Cold Embers Part I

Korra sat blowing on her tea, gazing off into the rising sun and trying her hardest not to let her mind wander to unwelcome topics.

"May I join you?" Iroh knocked lightly against the door to the small dining hall. The air acolytes had already departed for their daily chores and duties, leaving Korra alone to enjoy her breakfast. Until now.

"Uh…yeah of course!" Korra was glad to see Iroh, happy to have someone to divert her thoughts from reality, someone to distract her. And even someone to confide in.

Since her encounter with Amon, Korra's every thought had been filled with hatred, a desire for revenge and a deep sadness that twisted her heart. Her only solace was that with Amon missing, she could begin to rebuild Republic City and repair was little was left of her life and power. Everyday she worked with Tenzin, meticulously practicing, perfecting her form, increasing her skill and pouring all her energy into mastering her single remaining element.

And her progress was miraculous, her mastery increasing ten-fold, but this did nothing to console Korra, to fill the deep chasms within her heart, left by the absence of her other bending. Each day Korra worked harder, but act day she felt her connection to the other elements, her power, and essentially her hope, fading.

"I talked with Captain BeiFong today. She says that the city is making rapid progress, better than she could have hoped for…but the Eastern district is still suffering and the damage done by the Equalists is proving detrimental. She suggested we visit the district. She thinks you can raise their spirits, perhaps assist in the repair…." Iroh's voice faded, as his concerned eyes turned to Korra, shining in the brightening dawn light streaming through the window.

Me? Raise hope? How am I supposed to boost moral, when I'm in worse shape than the whole City. Korra turned, meeting Iroh's gaze with her own morose eyes, willing herself not to show the tears lingering just beneath the surface.

"I…I don't know….maybe…" Korra muttered, not wanting to disappoint Iroh but also refusing to make promises she couldn't keep.

Iroh's face reflected his worry, but also his acceptance as he grabbed her hand, clutching it between his and whispering, "Ok Korra." He smiled, hugging her close, and Korra found a welcome comfort in the arms of the General. Her old friend had been by her side since his arrival, supporting her during the attack and after. He never pushed her for decisions or ridiculed her for her foolishness in confronting Amon. He simply stood by her, gave her a pillar to lean on, and aided her in putting on an air of strength and composure as she rebuilt Republic City, when underneath she was crumbling.

And now he still stood by her, her oldest friend and newest ally. And now, as she stared into his deep amber eyes, framed by strong eyebrows and handsome features, she realized how different and yet how similar this man was to her old childhood friend. And how grateful she was to have him.

As she sat with him now, she suddenly felt her face flood with heat, fly her stomach clench as he pulled her closer still, brushing his lips across the crown of her head, his warm breath rustling her hair.

Korra felt safe in Iroh's arms, safe to expose her heart, communicate her hurt, and to throw fear aside. She was happier with him than with anyone else…even Mako.

At the thought of him, Korra's mouth suddenly acquired an acrid taste and her heart cringed away from the topic. She thought back to the day of their visit to the Pole, the day Katara had failed to return her bending.

"I love you, Korra," he had whispered, his eyes shining with care and love, desperate to know that she returned the feelings. But Korra had seen past his words and into the true cause of his profession of love.

He's lying, Korra thought bitterly, turning away from Mako. He has never loved me! He has Asami, and I will never be able to compete with her. She needs him, and he knows it. But me, I don't need him. I'm strong enough on my own, I don't need to steal him from Asami, to take away his love of her to feed my own. I….I can be strong enough on my own. What he only wants me now because….because now I'm vulnerable, incapable of being strong on my own? Well…he is wrong!

The wind struck Korra's face, the snow flitting against her skin as she marched off into the snow, leaving Mako and the rest of her friends behind.

In the thick snow, the cold meandered up her body, traveling though her limbs and eventually numbing her entire being. She felt nothing but the ice, painful and exhilaratingly soothing against her skin. She lay on her back in the snow, feeling little streaks of ice trickle down her face. And for a long time Korra stayed like that, surrounded in a sea of brutal white, alone with her tears and her thoughts. And even when she arose from the snow to rejoin her companions and face the world once more, her heart still retained the numbness of the frigid snow.

Even after she returned to the City, her meetings with Mako were cold and formal. She felt the hurt, the residual pain and sorrow every time she saw his solemn face, his beautiful eyes. The first few weeks she made a small effort to avoid him, seeing him while she was touring the City and aiding in the early repairs. At first he tried to pursue her, to assist her with repairs, but Korra's severe attitude towards him revealed what she could not bring herself to say. As the days drew on, Mako began to see less and less of Korra as she evaded him more heartily and eventually he returned the efforts.

And now…the two hardly saw each other at all. He crossed Korra's mind occasionally, but she pushed all thoughts of him away, fearing the confusion and pain that accompanied them.

She focused on rebuilding the City, supporting the people of the City, practicing her air bending…and now Iroh. He had been her secret source of strength in her darkest moments. When her life felt worthless, Iroh had been there to remind her of who she was and what she was destined to do. Despite the turn of events, she had a duty and a fate. She was the Avatar and somehow, someway she must find a way to be what she was born to be. She refused to give up on the people who needed her.

Korra pulled back from Iroh, managing a smile and pulling him to his feet. "Come on," she laughed for the first time in what felt like ions. "Let's go boost some moral!" She grabbed Iroh's hand and sped gustily toward the doors, and then down to the docks, headed for the core of Republic City. Iroh smiled, happily towed in her stead, glad to see a hint of the old Korra shining beneath her current surface, tainted with scars from her recent past.

But Iroh wasn't afraid of what the future had in stow for the Young Avatar. Iroh knew Korra, knew she had the strength and will to conquer the obstacles in her path. She was the Avatar and nobody could take her spirit from her.

In a small,l dank corner of the reestablished City, a dark haired man sat on a barstool, unbathed and wreaking of hard liquor. His tattered clothes hung limply on his crumpled form as he hovered over the bar, gesturing for another round. As the bar tender pushed another drink his way, watching him warily as his shaking hands lifted it to his mouth, the doors to the tavern burst open, an explosion of light igniting the putrid little room.

Bolin skipped over to his brother, shaking him with urgency.

"Mako! Hey bro, get up! Makey makey MA-KOOOOO!" Bolin's words were met with a grunt and a shove as his brother spun on the barstool to face him. His eyes were red, scarlet veins high-lighted against his white pupils, eyes puffy and discolored.

"Wow," Bolin's eyes widened as he took as step closer to his brother, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Are you…uhhhh…ok, Mako?"

Mako narrow his eyes, shaking his head grimly and shrugging off Bolin's grip.

"I'm fine. What do you want Bolin?"

Bolin's eyes were shadowed with concern but he continued on energetically, "I just heard that Korra is going into the City today. She's gonna be doing some work, you know with the recovery movement. I thought you might want to go…." Mako's eyebrows raised ever so slightly, his eyes glistening as he listened.

"She and General Iroh are going to be addressing the citizens and helping Beifong with repairs!"

At the sound of his voice, Mako's eyes narrowed to slits, his face darkening into a twist mask as he turned his face back to the bar.

"General Iroh, eh?" Mako's voice was a whisper, his heart burning with rage and jealousy at the thought of Korra with that man.

Bolin persisted, "So what do ya say? Wanna go?"

"No!" Mako spat, venom dripping from his voice. "She doesn't want me anywhere near her and her precious General. And for her, I'm more than happy to oblige."

"Mako, that isn't true, she…"

"Leave Bolin. Leave me alone. I'm done talking." He slammed his glass on the table and demanded another.

Bolin started to speak again, but then Mako's angry eyes turned to him and Bolin glimpsed the pain in Mako's face, and thought better of it. He had only seen Mako so hurt once before in his life….right after their parents' death.

As Bolin crept out of the bar, shutting the doors and stealing all light from the room, Mako sat, drink in hand, letting his thoughts take him to cruel, unhappy places. And as his consciousness faded, Mako's eyes began to tear, the memory of Korra burning like a cold ember in the depths of his mind. But try as he might, no amount of alcohol, rage, or distance could erase her from his heart