Here's another, following on from part one with first crushes!

Storybook Love

Sometime between her tenth and eleventh year, Korra falls in love with her best friend.

The realisation comes gradually in the months following his last departure, beginning when she catches herself being drawn to a section of the library that has never before held her interest.

Romance.

Korra finds herself standing before the shelf, newfound curiosity warring against stubborn tomboyishness, peering at the countless books and scrolls. Only when her legs begin to cramp does she make her decision, grabbing one at random and tearing back to her room before anyone–especially Master Katara–can see her.

That night she loses herself in a world within the words that sings to her heart and when the morning comes, Korra drags herself to training, exhausted yet enthused. She excitedly takes another text after her evening meal, curling up for the night in the soft warmth of her bed to delve into yet another world.

With every night that passes and every tale explored, she builds the painting of her own idealistic sweetheart, piece by piece from the traits of countless make-believe heroes.

It isn't until she sees him again, feels the frantic pounding of her heart and the rushing blood in her veins–the dancing visions in her mind–that she realises how much common ground rests between her friend and her picture-perfect beloved.

This man who smiles warmly and drops to a knee, beckoning her over, is so different and yet, at the same time undeniably him.

The molten amber eyes and the raven hair are almost the same but set into a face that has been cast in sudden new light. Where before there was only shapeless pale skin, she now notices the subtle ridges of his cheekbones, the angular sharpness of his jaw and the way he has become more man than boy.

Korra hurls herself at him, arms latching to his chest as they tumble back amidst cheerful mirth. She masks the fluttering of her heart–the pounding of her blood–behind a silly grin.

"Hey, Fire Boy!"

Iroh beams at her, golden eyes filled with an affectionate warmth that sends sparks racing beneath her skin.

"Hey, Korra."

When the hero of a story leaves behind his beloved to face danger for the greater good, Korra is filled with a frantic thrill and excitement, the wonderment that accompanies the questions–Will he return? Will he succeed?

When she finds herself in the shoes of those countless girls–princesses and peasants, young and old–only a sickening fear, a terrible dread, comes to her. The realization hits her when she wakes up early one morning to find Iroh, shirtless, in the midst of a complex firebending kata. At first, Korra is just transfixed by the way his form glistens in the morning sun, face flushing as he moves, flowing from stance to stance with the tightly reined intensity of a master. But then something captures her gaze, a large patch of discolouration set against the pale skin of his back, and terror tears the warmth from her.

A scar.

Korra is young–not yet eleven–but not stupid. She knows that he is a soldier. She knows that he has been in the fighting. And now she knows that he has been hurt out there, badly.

Her heart lodges in her throat as untold visions of her worst nightmares flash through her mind. She chokes on the fear and bolts away as the tears gather, the thought of losing him too painful to even contemplate.

When Iroh finds her curled in her room, crying hysterically, she can only latch onto him as he folds her into his embrace, murmuring gentle nothings into her hair. Safe in the warm cradle of his arms, Korra feels her heart settling, her mind calming, and slowly lets the exhaustion of her fright claim her.

Hours later, she wakes to the sound of his soft snores, groggily looking up and blinking for a moment before jolting in surprise. Master Katara smiles down at their entangled forms and Korra blushes furiously, a million inadequate excuses on the tip of her tongue when Iroh shifts suddenly and she falls off the bed with a shriek.

Soon the room is filled with happy laughter–hers, brightly effervescent...his, deep and rumbling–banishing the fears that darkened her thoughts.

Eighteen year-old Iroh is no stranger to the attentions of the fairer sex, showered with meaningless affections in his youth as the noble families sought the favour of the throne.

It didn't take him long to recognize Korra's newfound attraction–to see the glint of shy longing in those eyes–and it didn't take much longer to discover the reason for her distress.

His finds his thoughts drifting to another girl–with golden eyes and raven hair–forced to choose between a life with him, haunted by the constant fear of his death in a battle halfway around the world or one without him at all. He thinks of the heated rages, the slow shattering of their love and resolves to save at least one person from that fate.

He won't let Korra give her fragile heart to him, only for it to be torn apart in his absence.

Standing there at the gate, they make their goodbyes. Tears well in her eyes as she furiously hugs his waist, speaking the words she should rather than the words she wants.

"You'll write to me, won't you?"

I love you.

She won't speak her feelings here–now–and he won't nurture them–not like this–for Korra is young–inexperienced in the frailty of the heart and the cruelty of the world–and this is just puppy love. A storybook tale of innocent, perfect adoration that cannot survive the harshness of reality. He wants to shield her from that pain for as long as he can.

"Of course."

I'm sorry.

He hesitates on the tradition but forgoes caution, bending down as he always does before he leaves to press a soft, chaste kiss to her forehead. Deep red flushes across her tanned cheeks as she looks back up at him. He hardens his heart, sends her a smirk and turns away.

"Till next time."

Maybe one day.

When the gates close, Korra scrambles atop the ice wall, heart churning with too many feelings, watching as her best friend–her first love–drifts further and further away. Just before he passes beyond her sight, the figure turns and waves furiously. Across the barren snows of the tundra, she hears the faint echoes of a shout.

Farewell.

Then Iroh is gone, and a piece of her heart goes with him.

This turned out a little differently than I expected, even a bit angsty, but I felt it was a pretty important point in their relationship, so there it is! Basically, there are three points in time here, the first spans from the period before Iroh's last visit to the moment of his arrival, the second portrays a moment during that visit when Korra is confronted by the reality of loving a man who's job takes him to death's door on a regular basis and the third is their farewell. Iroh believes that Korra is simply nursing her first crush on the only boy she's really ever known and refuses to let it progress only for her to get hurt by his absence. In my headcanon I can imagine an escalation in conflicts as tensions between benders and non-benders in Republic City grow, so Iroh ships out and spends the next few years rotating in and out of active conflict.

Hopefully, you still enjoyed it and thank you to everyone for the kind reviews!

To the 'Guest' that asked me about characterization: For me personally, there is no science behind it, just trying to put myself into their shoes (their contexts, backstories, styles etc. which may involve research/watching episodes again). I drew from Toph's character in creating the more boisterous 6 year-old Korra while 13 year-old Iroh came from what we see of Zuko's attitude during his own youth (plus the conceivable effects that growing up in Zuko's family). Reading parts and phrases out loud also helps me visualise/audio..lise? the writing, to see if I can imagine those characters saying those lines. Other than that...practice practice practice right? The more you do it the more familiar/comfortable you become with it :)

P.S. hope that actually helped in some way otherwise I suck at giving advice xD thanks again for reading!