The Telari Elves were shipwrights, their craft shaped like swans and fish and painted white and silver and green. As the only ships in the Undying Lands, they were all that stood between Feanor's Noldor and Middle-earth.

The Telari refused to hand the ships over. Tension built. Someone shouted and an arrow flew. All around Asami a battle raged, the Telari outmatched and outnumbered yet fighting tooth and nail. White sand turned red.

She stood watching, unable to act. Disbelieving what was happening, Asami nearly dropped her sword before she saw her father lose his balance, a Telari man lifting a spear to finish him off.

It's a terrible thing, to kill. To feel flesh give way beneath a blade and see the light to go out in their eyes. It's a terrible thing for blood to water the earth. That first one was the most terrible of all. With it went Asami's innocence. With it went any pretense that she wasn't a part of this, that the Doom foretold by the Valar did not apply to her.

She never learned his name, nor the names of the three others that fell to her sword as she protected her father. Asami gave her innocence for him and in the end it had been for nothing.

Korra took Asami's hand between her own, then reached over and pulled her bodily into her arms. Like a dam in a storm, Asami broke. She gripped at Korra's cloak, sobbing loudly and unable to stop herself. Korra knew this kind of pain, this kind of crying. Only she'd had no one to cry on in those dark years of her injury. But she could give Asami what she'd never had.

Killing other people was much different from Orcs, and slaying a kindred elf must have been a thousand times worse. A human could love and laugh and by and large were good people. Orcs only cared for the slaughter. She rubbed her hand on Asami's back, rocking her as the sobbing gradually stopped.

"They forgave us, you know," Asami lifted her head, wiping at her eyes. "All of us, except maybe Feanor and his sons. Invited us to return, invited us to heal."

"But you haven't gone back because you haven't forgiven yourself." Korra pulled Asami's hand from her face so she could brush away the tears herself.

"Yes. Because I should have done something different. Sided with the Telari, convinced my father not to go at all. Let him go without me. He joined Feanor on the boats, before they were burned, leaving the rest of us stranded. He fell, in one of the battles of Beleriand. I never saw him alive again."

"None of that can be changed." Korra squeezed Asami's hand. "You can regret and regret and regret. You can think about it over and over and don't tell me you haven't. But you can't change that it happened. Accept it, change from it. My grandmother taught me something, after I was hurt. I was struggling, trying to understand what had happened to me. What I learned was that I could choose to find meaning in it. And I know it's different, what you did. But I also know you suffered on the ice, and you probably suffered elsewhere too. The other thing I learned is there's no shame in it."

"I don't know if I'll ever atone for what happened on that beach," Asami admitted. She could accept no shame on the ice, or in the face of Dragonfire. But her innocence had died on that beach and the shame would never go away. "In Middle-earth, I saw war. Fought in many against the Dark Lords. But unlike those wars, the Teleri were innocents."

"In all your thousands of years, how many people have you helped? How many children's faces have lit up with joy at one of your tinkers? How many people did we just help in that town." Korra brought Asami's knuckles to her lips. "Isn't that a good start?"

Asami looked over to her bedroll, and the necromancer's sword she'd taken. She turned Korra's words over in and over in her head, wondering how she could atone, and what meaning could be found in all that she'd experienced. Azruphel had been evil. If not irredeemable then so lost to her dark magic that coming back to the light had ceased to be an option. That sword was of Numenor, no more or less evil than the bedroll. In Asami's hands, it could protect. The right sword in Korra's hands could inspire.

"Asami?"

"I know what to do with the star-metal." This time, Asami was the one kissing Korra's hand. It wouldn't be Anduril or Glamdring, but perhaps she could forge a legend of their own.

"We need to find it first."

"We will." Asami got to her feet, then pulled Korra up with her. She felt immensely better, and laced her fingers in with Korra's. There were fresh tears on her cheeks but a smile on her lips. "I've never told anyone about that before. I've been holding onto it a long time."

"Anything else you need to let out?" Korra asked.

"Yes," Asami laughed, the kind of relieved and slightly hysterical laugh of someone who'd just found a release. "But let's save that for another night."

"I'm holding you to that." Korra stepped closer to Asami, sliding an arm around her. "I'll always listen."

"You can talk to me too, Korra."

"Good, I need to tell you about the time I wrestled a bear!"

"That's...not what I…" Asami widened her eyes. "You wrestled a bear."

Lifting her arms and flexing until her biceps bulged, Korra nodded. "And I won."

Staring, and sufficiently distracted from the earlier conversation, Asami sat down on her bedroll. "Tell me more..."

It was easy to forgive Asami transgressions from her past. She wasn't evil, and Korra knew well enough that if she ever returned to the Undying Lands she would face both those who'd forgive her and those who'd hold a grudge. Korra wasn't going to make that any harder for her.

She was also discovering how easy it was to distract Asami with just a little flexing. It was a little exhilarating and while she kept telling herself to tone it down while telling the story of the bear, she couldn't. Seeing Asami look at her that way was intoxicating. Korra needed to figure out what to do about it. Despite how often she'd shown off for others, Korra had never actually had a relationship much deeper than sharing warmth in the snow, and the feelings she was developing were terrifying to her.

Asami laughed when Korra got to the part where she got scolded by Farandren, and Korra contented herself with chasing the sadness from Asami's eyes.

The lands of Rhun gradually gave way to Khand's dry grasslands, and Mordor loomed to the west, it's mountains like jagged teeth. Korra spotted wild horses in the distance though they never came close.

They passed a village burned to cinders, the corpses of men and orcs littering the remains, and Korra kept her hand near her sword the rest of the day. Without Sauron to inspire fear and command the Orcs, uneasy allies had turned on each other. Farther south, with Mordor's teeth dulling in the distance, they found a fortress. Made of wood and stone, it straddled the road. The main gate was broken in two and Korra took point as she rode under the arch. Archers kept close eye on them.

Locals had turned the fortress into a town, the area just beyond the gate an open air market like the one on the Sea. Hundreds of eyes turned to them as Korra dismounted. The atmosphere was different here. The people more suspicious, their oppression more recent, their hatred of the West stronger. And Korra knew that while some of that hatred was spurred by ancient lies, some of it was probably justified. She could see people from as far away as the Harad, and others who looked as though they were from much farther east.

"We're just passing through," Korra explained, glancing up at Asami. They both kept their hands visible. "We just need an inn, or a place to sleep. We'll pay."

Some of the people shared glances, others shrugged and returned to their tasks. An old woman approached them, leaning on a rickety staff. She had piercing amber eyes and wrinkled skin several shades darker than Korra's. Her hair was grey and black, with white speckled throughout. "I got a room for you if you want. All you'd have to do is help my grandson out in the stables, if that's not too dirty for fancy folk like yourselves."

Asami pulled her hood back and smiled. "That's fair, I don't mind working in the stables at all."

"Huh." The elder looked Asami up and down, but didn't look impressed. "It's this way."

Without any further pleasantries, the woman turned to lead them to the stables. "My name is Manara. You're a long way from your homes."

"I'm Korra, and this is Asami." Korra followed her, guiding Naga by the reins. "We're exploring lands unfamiliar to us, and hoping to open up trade and talks between East and West."

"Asami?" Manara stopped, turning to eye her. "Odd name, for a Western Elf."

"I traveled once, a very long time ago," Asami replied. "These lands have changed since then."

Manara nodded. "The stalls at the end are free for your horses. Once you've helped Riyad with the stables you can come in for dinner. There's a room upstairs for you. He'll show you."

Before Korra could lead Naga to the stall, Manara took her arm. "If you want to discuss politics, you'll have to talk to my brother. He's the Trademaster of our town." She leaned in, as if passing along a secret, and winked, "But out here, whoever owns the stables owns the town."

"A colder welcome here," Asami noted, as she stripped her horse of tack and wiped her down. "But I think they'll open up."

"We should spend more than a few days here," Korra agreed. "We need to find out where that star landed anyway, and I want them to warm up to us."

"That's harder than you think." A lean young man stepped out from a stall. He had long black hair pulled back into a ponytail, and his large eyes greatly resembled Manara's. His face was round and clean shaven, and he wore a loose fitting blue robe. "The people here don't like strangers, especially with all the upheaval. Orcs and warlords are running rampant. We've set up in this fortress to allow us some kind of protection."

"Well, it's worth a try." Korra offered her hand, thinking the stranger couldn't be much older than twenty. "I'm Korra."

"I'm Riyad." He shook Korra's hand. "Let me show you to your room. What grandmother lacks in manners she makes up for in her cooking."

"Thank you," Asami said. She picked up their saddle bags and followed Riyad and Korra inside. Their room was small, with two beds. Asami actually felt disappointed by that.

"Riyad!" Manara poked her head in. "Oh, good, you're not dallying about in a dress today. Can you show them what to do in the stables, then clean up and help me with dinner? We've got a lot of mouths to feed tonight."

She disappeared, leaving Riyad with burning cheeks. "Lets… lets get back to the stables." He was out the door before Korra could respond.

Korra glanced at Asami. "What was that about?"

"I don't know."

They found Riyad moving feed around for the horses, every motion angry and harsh. Korra silently joined him while Asami went to clean out one of the stalls.

"Go ahead," Riyad said. "Mock me. It's what everyone else does."

"I'm not going to mock you," Korra replied. "I once knew someone in a little village far to the West who everyone saw as this big, strapping man named Pol. But she saw herself as a woman named Nanrin and was happier that way." It wasn't the easiest thing, she thought. Some people were very close-minded and that was true no matter where you went.

"The world takes all types," Asami added, peeking over the stall. "The same is true of my kind. The Fëa, the soul, doesn't always match the body it's housed in."

Riyad stopped and leaned on a pitchfork. "After my mother died, my grandmother took me in. She's never really…accepted who I am. She can be so cruel at times. She's never raised her fist, but sometimes it feels like a blow nonetheless." Riyad stared at these two strangers, who looked at her not with laughter or disgust, but with kindness. It seemed like a small thing, but it was the bravest thing Riyad ever asked. "Can… can you call me Tahirah? Just not in front of other people in town."

"Of course," Asami said. She looked towards Tahirah's house, where Manara was, and frowned.

"Tahirah,." Korra resumed working with the feed, shoveling some for Naga. "What was it like here? Before the fall of Sauron."

Hearing her name like that made Tahirah smile so broadly it hurt. "It was dark, but we found small joys. Song and dance, playing music. My family was mostly left alone as long as we supplied the armies with horses. But so many others went off to fight."

Korra's grip tightened on the feedbag. "I feel as though so many of us were just pawns in events beyond our control."

"You must have fought some of us." Tahirah said. Her smile had dimmed somewhat due to the tone of the conversation, but was still present. For the first time in her life she felt like she could be herself. "They used to say that Elves ate the hearts of their enemies to gain their strength and some of the soldiers traded stories about Gondorians being intimate with dead."

Torn between disbelief and offence, Asami cried out. "We do not eat human hearts!! Nor the hearts of any sentient being!"

Tahirah threw her head back and laughed. She wiped at her eye. "Oh, the rumors were terrible and inspired fear, but that one I made up."

Korra started laughing too. "That's just wrong. Maybe not as wrong as the necrophilia, but still."

Planting her face into both hands, Asami tried not to laugh too. "Clever."