Korra's POV

Patient. That's exactly what Mako was when it came to me. For the next couple of weeks I'd go to his place and I guess you can say, hang out there. He never questioned where I went or anything. He actually didn't really ask me much, except what part I was in the book. He'd tell me about his day and I'd listen, sometimes wanting to smile at the stories he told me.

One thing that I found very curious of him is how he never asked why I had all the bruises and cuts I did. Ever since I started coming here I had started to be a little more careful, avoiding hits that would leave visible damage, for the most part it worked but sometimes I'd show up with a cut on my face or arm and he'd simply bandage it, never asking how I got it. I sort of like that of him.

Mako's POV

I wanted to ask why she came with bruises and scratches, but I never did. I figured she'd do it on her own one of these days. We seldom talked, as in having a conversation together. I usually would ramble off about what I did that day and I could tell she gave me her undivided attention. Sometimes when she didn't understand some things she'd ask, but mostly she didn't talk. The stiffness that she had shown the first day was slowly starting to fade away and I could tell she made herself at home a little more every time she came.

But because she seldom talked she surprised me one day when she asked a question about the book she was reading.

"Why couldn't Arthur be a Knight?" she asked looking up from the book to look at me. She was in the couch and I was on a chair across from her.

"Because they thought he was a bastard child," I explained. "Back in those days if you didn't have a wealthy last name or were adopted you couldn't really do much."

She frowned.

"But he was the rightful King," she replied.

"I know, but they didn't know that until he pulled the sword from the stone."

Korra's POV

Even though Mako had explained to why everyone had been sort of mean to Arthur I still didn't understand. Why was it that people had to be cruel to those who were destined for greatness? Why did the good guy always have to suffer?

"Why are people mean? I asked absentmindedly.

Mako leaned forward from his chair.

"Not everyone is mean," he replied gently.

I nodded.

"You're the only person that I've met that hasn't been mean to me in this city."

He furrowed his brow at this. Damn it, I thought. I really hoped he didn't ask where I had come from. Partially because I didn't want to answer him, and partially because I honestly had no idea if there was a name for the place where I was born.

"Areli, can I ask you something?"

Crap. I nodded.

"Where do you get those bruises from?"

I sighed heavily. I couldn't tell him. Not yet, anyways. I shrugged. He nodded and didn't push the subject any further. Again, that's exactly what I liked about him.

Mako's POV

She wasn't ready to tell me, I knew it, but I had to try. It worried me that she came with so many bruises and scratches. I had never asked but I feared that one day she wouldn't come back at all, and I would have failed. I lay back on my chair and watched her stare intently at a photograph.

"They're my parent's," I stated.

Areli looked over at me and back at the photograph before standing up to take a closer look. She turned to look at me as if she was going to ask me something but then just returned her attention to the frame.

"You can ask," I said.

The girl turned to look at me and looked down.

"Can I ask what happened to them?" she said.

I sighed but nodded.

"They were murdered," I replied. "I was eight and my younger brother was six."

She nodded.

"Can I ask what happened to your parents?"

Areli's face grew slightly sad before she shrugged.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude."

"It's fine," she answered before looking outside the window. It was pouring. "I have to go," she added.

"Wait," I said standing up. "It's pouring out there, you'll get sick."

She shook her head.

"I never get sick," Areli replied before running out the door.

Korra's POV

Ever heard the expression 'knock on wood so it won't some true'? Yeah well make sure you actually do it. As soon as I got back to my cell I started to sneeze and that's when I regretted having run through the rain. The next day wasn't any better I woke up feeling horrible. My head pounded, my chest hurt and I just felt sore all over. I spent most of the day on the mattress, too weak and exhausted to move.

"Time to fight, Areli," Tarrlok said as he kicked me awake.

I growled at him.

"I'm not feeling good, can't you postpone the match?" I asked knowing the answer.

"This isn't a charity," he replied. "If you want to stay under my roof, you'll do as I say."

"Oh well, since I don't want to be here a second longer I'll just stay here."

He narrowed his eyes at me before giving me another kick.

"Don't push my patience," he warned before leaving the room.

I growled again before getting up, I touched my forehead and it felt warm. Great, a fever. Somehow I made it to the cage and I inwardly groaned when I saw my opponent. He was at least twice my size and muscular. Had I not been sick, I could have ended it rather quickly but now I didn't even know if I'd make it out of there alive.