Although you may have already figured this out, I do not own Avatar: The Legend of Korra or Avatar: The Last Airbender. I just love them. Enjoy!


All this wind is going to make my hair a mess, Asami thinks, then; I wish I had brought my driving glasses as a sharp gust of wintry air smacks her in the face, making her eyes water. She tells herself that that is the only reason for the tears that threaten to spill down her cheeks, that it has nothing to do with the scene playing out on the other side of Oogi's saddle.

A scene which she is desperately trying to ignore.

She casts around for something else to distract her, since complaining about the wind only reminds her of her intense desire to cry, and if she thinks about crying she'll have to think about why she should be crying, and that is completely counterproductive, no matter how much she wants to—

Air bison saddles are surprisingly comfortable, she notes, seizing upon the observation as she shifts against the cushioned wood. That's good; hopefully it will make Korra—

No. Asami stops herself mid-thought. Thinking about the Avatar is not a good idea right now. She instead examines her gloves, a fine pair made of imported sealskin that her father had given her for her sixteenth birthday. The leather covers her hands like a second skin, tight and fitted, so unlike the thick, clunky gloves that her father had developed for the Equalists.

Dammit! Asami has the sudden urge to tear at her hair in frustration. Not even her own wardrobe is a safe distraction! Thinking about her father and his Equalist weapons forces her to remember the night she discovered Hiroshi's secret factory, and that memory comes hand in hand with the image of Korra looking back at her regretfully before descending into the hidden tunnel underneath her father's workshop, Mako following after Korra and leaving her behind, Mako with Korra slung over his back as he confronts her father, Mako helping Korra into the back of their Satomobile, Mako grinning at Korra as Asami speeds down the streets of Republic City wearing her father's electrocuting glove, Mako and Korra, Mako and Korra…

She can't help herself; she looks over at the Avatar, unconscious and slumped against the side of the saddle as Asami's boyfriend stokes her hair and curls his arm around her shoulders to hold her against his side, his ochre-colored eyes fixed upon her face and filled with equal parts relief, worry, and tenderness.

And now it's all Asami can do not to cry, with tears again filling her eyes and the skin over her cheekbones stretching painfully as she fights against the sob building behind her lips. There's really nothing she can do to distract herself from the reality staring at her from across the saddle; Bolin and Pabu have stayed behind in the alley in order to take Naga home, and Tenzin and Lin are in front of her and speaking in hushed tones as the airbender steers the bison back to the island, glancing frequently over their shoulders at the battered Water Tribe girl with worried expressions.

Asami is worried about her, too. Although they only met a few weeks ago, Korra is her friend, and Asami had been just as panicked as the rest of the group when she learned that she had been kidnapped by the Equalists. Panicked and guilt-ridden, too, knowing that her family was probably directly responsible for their success in capturing the Avatar.

But then Mako had snapped at her in the tunnels, and the anger, worry, and fear in his eyes had made her breath catch. And then when she had questioned Bolin and he let slip that they had kissed, that Mako and Korra had kissed during the tournament, when he was already dating her, Asami started to realize that no, maybe everybody wasn't as concerned as she was, that maybe Mako was more worried than everyone else, and she didn't know what to do about that, so she shoved the thought into the back of her head and concentrated on finding Korra, which wasn't hard to do when they realized that the Equalists had never had her and that Tarrlok had tricked them.

So they went to City Hall and met with the new Chief of Police—for whom Asami harbored a strong dislike after her arrest—and Tenzin accused his fellow Councilman of abducting the Avatar. Asami's gut had twisted when Tarrlok started to deny the charges laid against him; even though she couldn't prove it, she knew, she knew he was lying. And then the terrified office aid revealed Tarrlok's secret, but Asami didn't even know what bloodbending was until she was suddenly moving in ways her mind had not told her body to move, and it felt like her veins were trying to constrict and explode at the same time before everything went black and she passed out.

When she came to she felt Mako's warm hands on her face and shoulder, and for a moment she felt completely relaxed, knowing that he was there and that she was safe with him. But then she remembered what had happened, what Tarrlok had done to them, and she was seized with a deep fear for Korra, because Korra is beautiful, and who knows what that bloodbender could have done to her with such power over her body?

Following Lin's suggestion, they climbed onto Oogi's back and searched the city, hunting for a trace of Tarrlok's tracks, for anything that they could use to find the missing Avatar. But as night fell, the mood in the air bison's saddle grew more and more despairing, although Mako refused to believe that they had lost their only lead on Korra's whereabouts. Watching him frantically scanning the streets below for a glimpse of pale blue, Asami was again reminded of the thought she had had in the tunnel, and something clenched in her chest before Naga's howl pierced the night air. At the sound, Mako called out, and Tenzin pulled Oogi into a sharp turn to follow the firebender's outstretched finger. They saw the huge polar bear dog slowly walking through a deserted alleyway and landed, everyone jumping out of the saddle and running to Naga's side. When Asami saw Korra sprawled over the animal's back, barely conscious and shivering in clothes stained with blood, her heart skipped a beat.

It skipped another at Mako's reaction.

"Give her some space!" he had shouted, shoving past Lin and Tenzin and pulling Korra into his arms, carrying her back to the air bison cradled against his chest.

Asami knows that Mako is a caregiver at heart. He has taken care of Bolin for most of his life, and Bolin has told her that his older brother has always been the one to go to work when they need money, that Mako is always the one to come up with a plan, always the one getting Bo out of trouble. Hell, she's experienced Mako's special brand of caring firsthand; he let her cry into his chest for hours without complaint after she found out about her father's doings, and he had rubbed her back and kissed her and told her that she was so strong and brave for standing up for them.

But the protectiveness of Mako's stance as he carried Korra away from Naga sticks in her mind. Asami tries to tell herself it's because Korra could have died, that it's because her situation was so much more serious than Asami's that Mako is treating her so gently, so—so lovingly, but when she looks back at them as they continue on their way to the island, she knows in her heart that Mako is acting this way because it's Korra, and that however much he may care for Asami—because he does care, she knows that much—it doesn't compare to what he feels for the Avatar. So the beautiful heiress looks away from them to the city below and orders herself not to cry until she is alone.


They land, and Mako again gathers Korra into his arms and carries her to the temple. Tenzin's children, who had been anxiously watching the sky for a glimpse of their father's bison, run out of the front doors to greet them, calling out questions.

"Did you find Korra?"

"Is she alright?"

"Did Amon take away her bending? Oh please, let him not have taken away her bending!"

"Where's Naga?"

"Why isn't Korra walking?"

"What happened, Daddy?"

"Children, go inside and find your mother," Tenzin orders, and Asami thinks that he has never sounded more authoritative or grave than he does right now. The little airbenders apparently think so too, because they take one look at their father and run back inside the temple without another word. Tenzin strides ahead of the group and pushes open the doors for Mako to carry Korra through, then continues down the hallway to a room Asami hasn't seen before, but which must be the healer's room for all of the salves and bandages lining the walls. Mako gently places Korra on the bed nearest the window, where the light of the full moon illuminates her face. She looks relaxed, although she grimaces slightly as Mako pulls his arms out from underneath her. An air acolyte appears in the doorway, and Tenzin quietly orders him to telephone for a healer. The man bows once and disappears down the hall. Tenzin turns to the chest in the corner of the room and pulls out a thick blanket made of what looks to be air bison fur. He places it carefully over the sleeping Avatar, making sure to cover her feet and arms. When he is satisfied that his charge is fully cocooned in the blanket, he straightens.

They all stare down at Korra. Her face is scratched and her hair is messy, some of it falling free from the ties that she always wears. But her breathing seems even, and for that Asami is thankful. Despite everything, she doesn't want Korra to suffer.

Lin's voice is the quietest she's ever heard it. "I'm going to wait for the healer," the metalbender murmurs.

Tenzin runs a hand down his face before nodding and turning toward the door. "I'll accompany you," he tells her. To Asami and Mako he says, "You two should get some rest."

"I'll stay with her for a while," Mako replies, and his tone is so definite that no one bothers to argue with him. That thing in Asami's chest tightens again. He hasn't looked away from Korra since he set her down.

Lin's face is sympathetic when she looks at Asami. "Come on, girl, you should go to your room. Sleep is the best thing for you right now." Asami nods disconnectedly and follows the two older benders out of the room. She's pretty sure that sleep isn't on the docket for tonight, or at least not the kind that will do her any good, but she knows that tossing and turning in her bed is probably better than watching Mako hover over Korra.

She shuffles down the halls until she reaches her room, where she closes the door and slowly takes off her winter coat and gloves, letting them drop to the ground. Too tired and depressed to change into her nightclothes, she kicks off her boots and crawls into bed, curling up into a ball underneath her blankets.

Without warning, although she knew this would happen eventually, the sob that Asami has been holding back breaks free, and she starts crying big, messy tears. Her makeup runs down her face and streaks her pillow, which only makes her cry harder, and her heart feels like it's crumpling inside her chest. She presses her face into her pillow to muffle the keening sounds she's making and lets her sobs tear out of her throat. It seems like she lies there for hours before her tears begin to lessen.

The last thing she remembers is thinking how pretty the drops of salt water look in the light of the moon.


The roar of the sea drowns out the sounds of the night as Asami makes her way through the maze of boulders in which she finds herself. She's never seen this place before, but she thinks she likes it. It's wild and natural, completely opposite the man-made bustle of Republic City. She can tell that it's late at night, but her surroundings are surprisingly bright. She looks up at the full moon in awe; she never knew it gave out this much light.

Asami doesn't really know what she's doing here, but something is telling her to keep moving forward, so she continues along her path, weaving around the huge masses of rock in her way. Part of her realizes how odd all of this is and tells her that she should be very worried at finding herself in a strange place with no knowledge of how she got there, but for some reason she feels completely calm.

A flickering light up ahead catches Asami's attention and she makes her way toward it. The crashing sound of waves against rock grows louder with each step, along with a rhythmic rumbling that the young heiress can't place. Wind lifts her hair, but she doesn't feel the cold the breeze brings with it. The flickering light grows closer and closer, until Asami finds herself entering a sort of clearing roughly ringed by stones. At its center is the source of the light, which she realizes is the remains of a campfire. Asami has never actually seen a campfire before, but she's read enough adventure scrolls to recognize the image in front of her. Pulling her eyes away from the still-glowing embers, she notices that the fire is surrounded by several simple tents, one of which appears to be made out of rock. Intrigued by her surroundings, Asami simply stands there and observes the picture for a few moments before a sudden rustle of cloth attracts her attention.

Looking to her right, Asami is startled to see a boy of around sixteen or seventeen with messy black hair and pale skin seated several steps away from where she stands.

"Oh!" she cries. "I'm sorry, I didn't see you there. I hope I'm not intruding." She flashes a rueful smile at him, but the boy doesn't even move. Frowning, Asami clears her throat, but he still doesn't acknowledge her.

Maybe he can't hear me, she thinks, and so she walks up to him and tentatively touches his shoulder.

Only to discover that her sense of touch is not working as it should. It's strange; she feels her hand make contact with the boy's shoulder, but it's as if she only feels the contact because she knows she should. There's no defining texture to the fabric of his vest, no warmth underneath her palm. Confused, she quickly pulls her hand away. The boy still makes no indication that he knows she's there, so Asami takes a moment to study him.

He is seated on a slab of rock, hunched over in front of one of the tents. His hair falls raggedly into his face and over his ears, gleaming in the moonlight. The moonlight also illuminates the muscles in his forearms, which are exposed by the tunic he wears under his vest. His clothes are strange; the baggy trousers and curved boots, combined with the style of his tunic and vest, remind Asami of the clothing depicted in old paintings of the Hundred Year War. The colors, from what she can make out in the moonlight, are those traditionally favored by the Fire Nation, and the quality of the boy's garments appears to be very fine. Yet his clothes are worn, with fraying hems and what look like scorch marks marring the luxury of the fabric. It's clear that he has been living in these clothes for some time.

If he were to stand, the boy would be very tall; seated as he is, Asami only has to bend a little when she ducks down to get a better look at his profile. When she catches sight of his face, her eyes widen and her heart thuds in her chest.

The boy is absolutely gorgeous. What she can see of the right side of his face is flawless, with a soft cheekbone, strong jaw, straight nose, perfect eyebrow, dark lashes, and delicately curved lips. As she stares at him, a great, gravelly snorting sound comes from somewhere to the boy's left, and his eyes flutter open to reveal striking, gold irises.

The snorting sound comes again, and a look of irritation passes over the boy's face before he looks back over his shoulder at one of the tents. Asami's attention is drawn to the tent as well; something pulls her toward it, and she straightens and makes her way around the golden-eyed teenager's back to investigate.

When she first pushes open the tent flap (which doesn't feel the way it should, either), Asami starts backwards in embarrassment. But the two people sharing a bedroll inside the canvas shelter don't stir, and she realizes that they are as oblivious to her presence as was the boy outside.

The night must be a mild one, for the young man and woman sleeping in each other's arms use only a light blanket to cover themselves. Even so, it is pulled low enough that Asami can see the details of the clothes they wear. They're both around the same age as their companion sitting outside, perhaps a year or so younger, she guesses. The boy, clearly of Water Tribe descent, is skinny in a way that speaks partly of bulk waiting to catch up with a growth spurt, partly of malnourishment. His dark, chin-length hair is unbound and pieces fall into his face, which Asami admits is rather attractive. His sleeveless tunic is slate blue trimmed with white, and his forearms are wrapped in white cloth where they curl around the girl in his embrace. She has short, auburn hair, an unusual color that Asami has only seen once or twice in her lifetime. Her face is pretty and her figure slender underneath the shapeless red tunic she wears. Both of their appearances have the same travel-worn look that the boy outside has.

But what strikes Asami most about the pair is the air of peace that surrounds them as they sleep. Nestled together with their arms around each other, they look completely content, as though nothing can touch them. As she watches, the boy's mouth opens to let out another of the strange snorting sounds—which Asami realizes are actually the loudest snores she has ever heard—and the girl stirs, blearily opening one eye to gaze reproachfully at him before sighing and snuggling back into his arms, a small smile gracing her lips as she drifts off again.

"It touches your heart, doesn't it, to see the love between two people."

"Gah!" Asami cries out and whirls to see who has spoken, only to have her jaw drop in absolute astonishment.

Before her is the most beautiful woman she has ever seen. She is clothed in a stunning dress of silver and white, with wide, billowing sleeves that fall to her knees. Her long, white hair, where it is not bound by intricate silver ties and clasps, fans out around her to create a sort of halo about her head, an effect extenuated by the white, silken shawl that floats around her figure. She watches Asami with calm silver eyes touched with the faintest hint of blue, her face serene in its beauty. The cast of her features reminds Asami of the Water Tribes, and her skin, although lightened with an ethereal glow, seems more similar to the darker tones of the boy sleeping at her feet than the ivory ones of his companion. A moment before the woman opens her mouth to speak, Asami realizes who she is.

"Yue," she breathes in awe. The moon spirit smiles gently at her and nods once. Mind reeling, Asami lets slip the first thing to pop into her head.

"Where am I?" she asks.

Yue gives her another smile before answering, "Somewhere in the Fire Nation, about half-way between the Western Air Temple and Ember Island."

"Oh," Asami blinks, not really sure what to make of that information. As she glances around the tent in an attempt to gather her thoughts her gaze lands on the sleeping couple, and her curiosity brings another question to her lips.

"Who are they?"

Yue's expression turns wistful when she looks down upon the pair. "The girl is Suki, leader of the Kyoshi Warriors and friend of Avatar Aang."

Asami's eyes feel like they are about to pop out of her head. This is Suki? The Suki? The most famous woman to fight with fans since Avatar Kyoshi herself? Asami has always looked to this woman as a role model; a non-bender who managed to kick ass and save the world all through the strength of her own body. And now here she is lying at Asami's feet, looking for all the world like a normal teenage girl cuddling with her boyfriend. Her head is spinning so much that she almost misses what Yue says next.

"The boy is Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe, master swordsman and one of Aang's oldest friends." Asami gapes at him; he looks too young to even enlist in an army, let alone fight off countless Fire Nation soldiers and play a key role in Fire Lord Ozai's defeat.

They both look so young! Of course, Asami knows from her history lessons that the Avatar was only twelve when he defeated the Fire Lord and that his friends weren't much older, but knowing it on paper and seeing it in front of her are two very different things. Shame suddenly courses through her when she thinks of how upset she was over Mako's interest in Korra; here are these children, younger than her, who have to fight a war almost all by themselves. And she thought she had it rough.

Asami wallows in guilt for a moment before it hits her. "Wait. If they're Suki and Sokka, then, then this must be close to the time of the Hundred Year War!" Panic grips her. "How in the spirits' name did I get here? How am I going to get home? Why am I—" she is cut off as Yue holds up a hand to stop her.

"Yes, this is the time of the War," she says. "Sozin's Comet will arrive in ten days' time." Shocked, Asami looks back at the sleeping war heroes, who give no indication that the possible end of the world is so close to arriving. "And don't worry," the moon spirit continues, "This is more of a dream than anything else. I'm showing you a moment from the past with the hope that you will learn from it." Something in Asami's expression must have shifted uncomfortably, because Yue's face softens. "I did not bring you here to upbraid you for your concern about your love life. Spirits know I had problems enough in that regard during my time," she laughs kindly. "I'm the last person who should judge you for feeling miserable. That's why I've brought you here; I want to help you."

Unfortunately, the spirit's gentle words, rather than calming Asami, have the opposite effect. Perhaps it's because of all of the stress of the day, perhaps it's because of the lingering sting of her father's betrayal, perhaps it's because of her small, niggling feeling of inferiority at being the only non-bender in their group, perhaps it's because of the fear that's swooped into her life with Amon's rise to power; whatever the reason, a tide of irrational anger surges through Asami and she snaps at the silvery woman.

"Well, that's just great. I'm glad I'm so pathetic that the spirits themselves feel the need to meddle with my love life. Since I'm obviously so incompetent, what do you suggest I do, oh wise moon spirit?" Her arms wave wildly through the air as she rants. "Tell me, please, because apparently I can't do anything right, and you have all the answers. Go on, tell me what to do!" Fists clenched, she glares at the spirit, chest heaving and green eyes narrowed in anger.

Yue only looks at her sympathetically before looking down at the sleeping warriors. "Sokka was my first love," she tells Asami, who is too flabbergasted by the sudden change of track to do more than blink in surprise. "We met when I was still human, the princess of the Northern Water Tribe. While Aang and Katara learned waterbending from the masters in the North Pole, Sokka and I grew close and eventually fell in love, even though I was already betrothed to another man." Here she smiles slightly. "And although he had already met Suki, I was his first love as well.

"But then the Fire Nation attacked, and the moon spirit was killed. I took her place, and Sokka was left to mourn for me. He continued on with Aang and his sister, bearing his responsibilities with strength, but I could see his grief as I shone upon him at night. He believed that he would never find someone to replace the emptiness in his heart where I had once resided.

"Until he was reunited with Suki, that is. Sokka could not have me, for I was destined to become the moon spirit, but with Suki he found happiness and peace. You can see it when you look at them, the love they share. It brought me hope that the world could repair itself during the darkest hours of the War."

Yue finishes speaking and looks expectantly at Asami, who ponders her story for a moment.

"Why are you telling me this?"

The moon spirit looks slightly disappointed. "Because, Asami, you and Sokka are very much alike. I wanted you to see that his story had a happy ending, as can yours."

Anger again flits its way through Asami's body. "With all due respect, Yue, my situation is nothing like Sokka's. You died and became a spirit; that's a little different from your boyfriend leaving you for someone else. So thanks for trying, but this doesn't really make me feel better." She gestures at the Water Tribe boy and his lover, now unable to look at them without a hard lump forming in her stomach.

"Not really."

Asami blinks in surprise.

"I did not have to sacrifice my life to replace Tui," the spirit explains. "It was a choice I made. I consciously chose to leave Sokka; believe me, he begged me not to. But I did, knowing that as I took my place among the stars I was joining myself to La, the ocean spirit. So, effectively I left Sokka for another man…well, spirit. The point is, your situations aren't that different at all."

Shame floods through Asami again, and she hangs her head to cover her blush. She let her anger get the better of her, and now she feels like an ungrateful fool for arguing with this gentle woman.

Yue places a hand to the young woman's chin and lifts her head. Her hand at once feels like flesh and cool moonlight made corporeal. She gives Asami a tender smile and tilts her head toward the entrance flap before turning and gliding out of the tent, her garments and hair continuing to billow around her. The heiress steals one more glance at the sleeping couple, then follows the moon spirit outside.

Yue is waiting for her. "Your story can have a happy ending if you let it, Asami. Love has a way of working itself out." She sighs, and it suddenly strikes Asami that this is a spirit standing in front of her, a being with power beyond her comprehension and knowledge of the secrets of the world. For a moment, she can see Yue as she really is, and the sight fills her with awe.

"You can see that here, too," she says, and Asami's attention snaps back to what the moon spirit is telling her. "In a different world, Zuko and Katara would be soul mates. As it is, they are bound by a friendship deeper than most." She gestures at the slab of rock near the edge of the campsite, and Asami realizes with a start that the boy she had been ogling earlier is actually Fire Lord Zuko in teenage form. Damn, she can't help thinking in appreciation, remembering how attractive she had found him.

"The universe shifted to accommodate for Aang's presence, making him Katara's lover and Lady Mai Zuko's, but their bond remains; neither can be happy without the other's love and friendship. It's why he's trying so hard to regain her trust." Yue smiles affectionately at the future Fire Lord's silhouette, and Asami contemplates what she has been told. Mako's betrayal—she still can't think of it in any other terms—still smarts, but as she goes over the spirit's words in her head, she realizes that it's lost its edge.

Love has a way of working itself out. The words circle through her mind, and Asami is surprised to feel a small burst of hope bloom in her heart.

Love has a way of working itself out. Asami looks up at Yue, who is gazing at her serenely. With a small smile, she bows to the spirit.

"Thank you, Yue."

The moon's embodiment positively beams at her, breathtakingly beautiful as she rises into the air. The landscape around them begins to glow with moonlight until it is so bright that Asami closes her eyes, Yue's light surrounding her with silvery brilliance.


When she wakes, it takes a moment to open her eyes, since her lashes are glued together by her mascara. When she finally manages to force her lids apart, she stretches and sits up, taking in the sight of her room.

Sunlight streams in through the window, illuminating her coat and gloves where they lay in a heap on the floor near her boots. Her pillow is smeared with makeup and the clothes she wore to bed are wrinkled beyond belief. Asami doesn't even want to know what her face looks like. Resignedly she gets up and goes about making herself presentable for the day.

When she walks into Tenzin's dining room, Asami is relieved to see Korra chatting with her airbending master. The healer has done his work, and the Avatar looks good as new. But Asami's relief is tainted with annoyance when she sees that Mako is standing next to the turquoise-eyed girl, just a little too close to be entirely innocent. The heiress inwardly sighs. She knows that a confrontation between her and her boyfriend is inevitable—she isn't a girl who will take this kind of thing lying down, after all—and she isn't looking forward to actually being rejected. But as she looks at Korra, she is reminded of the dark-skinned boy from her dream, and she allows herself to believe that maybe, maybe, everything will be alright.


A/N: I really hope that Asami wasn't too teary for you. I started writing this right after episode nine aired, so I didn't really know what was going to happen with Asami's realization that Mako has feelings for Korra. She's a strong female character, but come on; she thinks her boyfriend doesn't care for her anymore! I think that would make anyone upset. That said, I really hate whiny, weepy characters, so I hope that's not how she came across. No tearbenders here!

Sorry if I got any the details of the scene from The Last Airbender wrong. I figured that ten days was a respectable amount of time until the comet for that point in the story line (which is right before Zuko and Katara go to find her mother's killer, in case you didn't recognize it). And Zuko is my favorite, so I had to give him some love. He's just so yummy!

Please review!