Thanks so much for all the reviews, guys. And the brilliant ideas! Particularly cheesecakebutternuts, your suggestions inspired a big part of this plot line. :) ¡Muchas gracias!

"Don't I destroy my enemies when I make friends with them?"

— Pres. Abraham Lincoln

Korra held tight to Amon's wrist, his arm slung over her shoulder as she supported him across the snowy courtyard. She kept trying to ignore the feel of his powerful muscles brushing against her shoulder blades, the musky, metallic scent of him. She tried holding her breath, but that did her little good. She cursed Katara over and over under her breath as she helped her greatest enemy take his morning walk. At least he wasn't leaning his full weight on her anymore. He could, for the most part, support himself as they turned about the courtyard.

They rarely spoke. After the strange spark they'd both felt through that simple touch, neither had plucked up the nerve to revive conversation. The already tenuous ground of their relationship had splintered even more. Korra wondered if Katara wasn't have some laughing fit somewhere at the sight of their discomfort.

Bolin skipped up to them, playing with a boulder the size of Korra's head, hovering over his open palms.

"Hey, Korra. Having fun babysitting?"

"Shut up, Bo," Korra growled.

He held up his hands, spinning the boulder around in a sort of pirouette. "Hey, no need to put your claws out. I was just wondering when Katara lets you off so we can get some practice time in."

"Not till after lunch."

The earthbender groaned. "Really? D'you think she thinks it's funny? I mean, sticking you with him, of all the rotten overblown egotistical megalomaniacs in this city—"

"I'm right here, you know," Amon grumbled, pulling away from Korra to stand on his own. He swayed a little, but otherwise seemed steady enough. "Avatar, if you wish, I will persuade Master Katara to relieve you of your duties so you may join your friends. I can manage without you for the remainder of the day."

Korra's brow flickered, startled by the unexpected leniency. She glanced back at Bolin, and her teammate only shrugged, jerking his head back toward the compound where the Ferrets trained. Then she looked back to Amon, uncertainty in her gaze.

"Unless of course you enjoy my company." That old smirk returned to his blue eyes.

Korra looked back at Bolin, nodded, and reached for Amon's elbow to support him. But he shrugged her away.

"I believe I've reached the ability to walk on my own, Avatar. You may follow me if you will, or you may return to the compound with your teammates. I care not either way. Good day to you, earthbender."

And with that, he turned and walked with halting steps back toward the healing wing. Korra watched him, took a hesitant step after him, and stopped. The furrow on her brow deepened. She watched the back of her enemy disappear into the healing wing. Then, slowly, she turned back to Bolin.

Her friend lifted on eyebrow, and then both his shoulders. "Well. Suppose he may not be quite the megalomaniac he was last week." But he was frowning too. With another shrug of his shoulders, he turned away, waving for her to follow. "C'mon. Mako's waiting for us."

Korra looped her arm through his, the frown not fading from her brow. They walked in silence for a few moments.

"Bolin, what do you think about all this?"

"'Bout what? Mr. Rage and Wage being alive?" He sighed, patting her hand where it lay fixed on his elbow. "I don't know, Kor. I mean, it's not like I'm going to forget how he tried to take my bending, how he almost put you and Mako down for the count, how he terrorized an entire city for months." He frowned. "I think it's weird that the White Lotus is keeping quiet about all this, though. I mean, doesn't Republic City have a right to know their public enemy number one is still alive and kicking? Well, not necessarily kicking, per se—"

"I've been wondering that too," Korra muttered. "They haven't even mentioned a trial. The man's almost completely better, and he should be in prison."

Bolin slowed his footsteps, his hand tightening around hers. "They… they haven't found…?"

Korra shook her head, a melancholy feeling descending over her. "They found him yesterday," she whispered. "Washed up at least a half-mile from where they found Amon with the rest of the boat wreckage."

Bolin sighed. Despite his position toward the two bloodbending brothers, he couldn't help but feel a wave of compassion. "Does Amon… Noatak… know?"

"I think Katara told him when they delivered the body for burial up in Republic City."

Bolin's frown deepened. "Wait, but… if they have a funeral for Tarrlok, what are they going to tell the people about Amon? They can't just say he got incinerated by the boat blast. Something would've washed up." He gave an involuntary shiver.

"I don't know what they're going to do," Korra admitted. She shook disturbing images out of her head and squeezed her best friend's arm. "But hey, you said Mako's all impatient, right? Let's go join him."

Brushing their gloomy feelings aside, they walked arm in arm up to the courtyard in hopes of some grueling pro-bending tussles to lift their spirits.

The blizzard swept in from out of nowhere. It covered the land in a fierce wave of white, thickening the air with freezing ice and blotting out the sun. Snow piled onto the White Lotus' concrete compound walls by the foot, blanketing everything and everyone who dared venture outside. The guards huddled up in their bunkers, hardly risking a minute's patrol out over the frigid ramparts before tucking tail and sprinting back inside. The wind howled at the windows, rattling the shutters in every bedroom and making any of the younger inhabitants of the compound run whimpering into their mothers' arms.

Korra wrapped her fingers around the steaming mug of tea, drawing her knees up to her chest. She blew on her fingers, a tiny spurt of flame dancing across the tips of her fingernails, glowing warm off her skin. She huddled up closer to the warmth, wishing she could wrap her whole body in flames. But that would be inconsiderable to the other occupant of the healing room, as she'd most likely set the wicker arm chair on fire.

She glanced up at Amon, who lay curled on his side in the wide hospital bed, his back to her. She could see him shivering even from here, and for the second time that week she felt an uncharacteristic pang of sympathy. She turned her gaze away, focusing instead on the boring reading material Tenzin had provided her. As Katara had forced her to keep her patient company, her airbending teacher had jumped on the opportunity to fill Korra's empty space with mind-numbing, dreary scrolls, detailing the most ancient forms of airbending and techniques. She sighed, letting the flames at her fingertips dance over the surface of the scroll, far more interested to watch the play of light over the faded parchment than actually do any reading.

"You people rely far too much on your bending," observed a deep voice from the other side of the room.

Korra jumped, startled, and the fire extinguished. She'd thought he was asleep. Turning defensive, she glared at the prone man's back. "And you don't?"

"I use my abilities only when needed," he retorted. "I don't flaunt my power at every possible opportunity."

Korra snorted. "Yeah, like prancing around onstage taking everybody's bending wasn't flaunting anything."

Amon rolled around to face her, a scowl in his half-lidded eyes. "Admit it. You would be helpless without your bending. It makes up all of you are. You'd be nothing without it."

Korra felt something inside her falter at that cold blue gaze. She dropped her eyes. "Well…" she murmured. "It sure felt like I had nothing left when you took it from me. I thought I had no where left to go. I mean, look at this place." She gave a humorless laugh, waving a hand around at the compound. "I spent my whole life here with the White Lotus. They drilled into me that bending was my all, my everything, before I even learned to play with the other kids." She glared at him. "So, yes, I guess you could say that bending is my life."

For a moment, his stony face remained inscrutable, and then his gaze softened. "I know what it's like to have your childhood taken from you," he murmured.

Korra frowned. "Yeah, I suppose you would. Tarrlok told me about Yakone. What he did to the two of you." She hesitated. "I'm… sorry that happened to you. It shouldn't have been that way. Nobody should have to live in fear of bending like that. I wish the Avatar had been there to set things right."

Amon laughed, but the sound was harsh and brittle. "The Avatar would have done nothing to help me. Not only was Aang old and long past his prime, he had every reason to let us suffer for what my father had done."

"No one deserves to suffer for another person's mistakes."

"Tell that to your past life."

Korra bit her lip. "I'm sure, had Aang known about your circumstance, he would have had pity on you."

Amon sat up, a snarl curling his lip. "I don't want pity. Anyone's. Especially not the Avatar's. Don't think I don't see it in your eyes every time you step into this room. It would have been better you'd left me to die there on that beach. What more can I do with my life? I am ruined. My Revolution is gone, crumbled at the seams. The only family I had left lies under four feet of dirt in the capitol city. My body is broken, and my ambitions are shattered beyond redemption. But thanks to your pity, I'm dragged back from a final rest in the spirit world to this patched-up excuse of a life. And for what? To be hauled back to Republic City and executed for my crimes?" Korra was shocked to actually see a sheen of wetness in those blue eyes. He shut them, blocking her out, and she felt suddenly ashamed, like she was intruding upon some private moment. When he spoke again, his voice was ragged. "You should have let me die with my brother. Then at least the both of us would finally have our peace."

Korra felt her throat tighten. Without thinking about it, she got up, set the scroll aside, and went to place her hand over his. His eyes flew open, startled at the comforting touch, but he didn't pull away. His scarred muscles were stiff beneath hers.

"Amon," she whispered. "Noatak, whatever your name is. I'm sorry all this has happened to you." She took a deep breath, dropping her eyes. Her throat clenched up even more. "I've been a terrible Avatar. Here I should be having mercy, and all I could think about was making you suffer as much as I could for what you did. Trying to provoke you, burning your food… Spirits, I'm more immature than Meelo." She closed her eyes. "Look, I know we're not exactly friends. Heck, probably the furthest thing from it. But I know Aang would be disappointed in me if he saw the way I've been acting. I guess what I'm trying to say is… I'm sorry."

A warm weight settled over her hand, and her eyes snapped open in surprise. Amon had placed his large hand over her own, his blue eyes softer than they'd been a few moments before.

"I never would have imagined the Avatar asking for my forgiveness," he whispered. He lowered his gaze, his fingers tightening over her smaller ones. His voice became impossibly soft. "I should be the one asking yours. If anything, I deserved all you've done to me and more. I've been the one to make your life a living hell the last month and a half." He swallowed, his scarred throat working. "I suppose it would be too much to ask of anyone."

Korra stared into those shadowed blue eyes, and something inside her melted. Without another word, she shoved their joined hands aside and climbed up onto the bed beside him, resting her head alongside his on the pillow. His cerulean eyes widened in shock.

"Avatar," he said uneasily. "What are you doing?"

"Being nice for once," she replied, refusing to feel awkward about her impulsiveness. "It's colder than Naga's paws in here, and it wouldn't be very Avatar-ly of me to have you freeze to death. Not when I can help it."

He stared at her for a moment. Then his eyes dropped to where their hands rested atop the sheets, fingers still entwined. Korra looked down at them too. A flush warmed her cheeks.

"Well, I don't mind if you don't," she muttered.

He returned his gaze to hers, as if searching her face for something. Then, after a stiff moment, his tense body relaxed beside her. His fingers loosened around hers, but didn't let go.

"Thank you," he whispered. His deep voice carried a warmth in it she'd never heard before. Korra smiled, and nuzzled her face down into the pillow. She was already feeling sleepy. She supposed Katara wouldn't mind if she walked in to find them like this. After all, she'd been the one pressuring Korra to make friends with their dastardly patient. She supposed sharing her warmth in the middle of a raging blizzard was the first step toward friendship, right? At least a mutual acceptance of one another.

She let herself drift into oblivion, falling asleep to the oddly comforting rhythm of his breathing.