Disclaimer: The Legend of Korra, all characters and settings, and anything else you would recognize as pertaining to this cartoon does not belong to me. I do not intend to make any money off the writing of this fan fiction; it is merely for entertainment purposes.
Title: The Caress of Water.
Summary: The Avatar battles both the powerful Equalist activists and her own feelings for their mysterious leader—a tale of unbreakable family ties, tolerance, and self-exploration.
Pairings: Amon/Korra, unrequited Tarrlok/Korra, slight Mako/Asami, slight Mako/Korra, slight unrequited Bolin/Korra.
This chapter was totally revamped for your enjoyment on June 27, 2019.
Chapter XXI: Death of the Avatar
As Lin listened to the sound of Amon's receding footsteps upstairs, she considered the severity of her situation. Locked joints and fatigued muscles; a persistent headache and an uncomfortably full bladder; and phantom injuries from Tarrlok's bloodbending—every inch of her body was protesting in some way. She was in no condition for direct combat.
Outnumbered, she added, raking her eyes over the Equalists stiffly standing in front of her. There were nine of them, including the Lieutenant. Her blade, subconsciously reacting to her racing mind, curled between her fingers like an antsy snake leech. Nothing to bend except for this tiny piece of metal. What can I do here?
She had splintered a sizable hole in the back of her cage, but she didn't reveal it yet—not when her every move was being watched. Amon was due to return at any moment to take her bending, and, without it, she knew she had absolutely no chance of rescuing Korra and escaping.
The Avatar's lost bending was a crippling blow, but Lin couldn't let herself grieve. It would have to come later when they were safe, when Korra could be properly consoled. For now, she had to be resourceful and play to her strengths.
How could she quietly take out all of these Equalists without fighting them? Her attention was drawn as several chi-blockers shifted, displacing the groaning wooden planks. Each of them, including the Lieutenant, held a humming electrified glove. Up the staircase, the door was left partially open. She cataloged each and every detail and considered how she could use them.
After a couple moments of thought, her eyes returned to one of the electrified gloves. She almost smacked herself for not realizing it sooner.
In the palm of her hand, she quickly fashioned the blade into a new shape. The metal was stretched so thin that it wouldn't hold up against a powerful kick, but any extra seconds could make all the difference. Out of the Equalists' view, she released the metal, directing it around the back of her cage and behind Korra's empty one with subtle twitches of her fingers that could pass for a nervous tic.
With her guidance, it slithered across the floor and up the stairs, keeping to the shadows. The farther away it went, the fainter her control of it, but she poured her concentration into attaching it to the other side of the door, out of sight. She didn't know if anyone was standing guard behind it, but it couldn't be helped.
The next few moves were critical, with almost no room for error. Her bending was nowhere near its full strength, but time spent recuperating after Tarrlok's last attack had given her some power back.
Lin could do this. She had to.
Korra swiped a hand across her face to dry her tears and mop up her runny nose. It was pitch-black in the back of the Satotruck, and the silence was broken only by Tarrlok's slow breathing beside her. She thought of Lin sitting in her cage—and Amon taking her bending.
She might need my help, she thought, and all I can do is lie here uselessly.
Raising her leg, Korra reared it back and struck the door as hard as she could. She wasn't going to be thrown away and forgotten. Even without her bending, she could still provide a distraction.
"Amon!" she yelled, kicking at the door until her foot was battered. Each blow rained down with more desperation and anger than the last. Her voice shrilly echoed back at her. "I'm not done with you!"
Either he was no longer nearby, or her taunts had no effect. She couldn't be sure. Then inspiration struck, and she knew exactly how to get his attention.
"I'm vulnerable now—just how you like me, Amon! What, not in the mood to take advantage of me again?!"
A few kicks later, she heard the sound of the latch being undone. The doors were flung open, bringing a frigid wind.
Amon snatched her ankles with both hands when she attempted to kick him. He dragged her closer and leaned down, close enough that she could feel his warm breath. "Hold your tongue."
"No. What am I to you? Your plaything?"
"Avatar…"
"Don't want your Equalists to know how depraved you really are, Amon? How you led on a teenager—" She was cut off when he clapped a hand over her mouth.
His voice was low, only for her. "You have the most troublesome mouth. Always lying and spreading rumors."
Korra shook free and glared at him. "Funny. You seemed to like my mouth a few weeks ago."
"Just as you liked mine," he hissed, pinning her with his icy stare. "Take responsibility for your own actions, Avatar. I didn't force you to put your tongue in my mouth. I remember trying to keep things cordial until you goaded me into it. Or do you remember it differently?"
She bristled with a combination of embarrassment, indignation, and angry arousal. Various responses sprang to mind, but she couldn't voice them through trembling lips.
Had she been blaming him just because it was easy to play the victim? She repeatedly told herself that Amon seduced her, but, in truth, she had been fascinated from the start just by listening to the sound of his voice. He kissed her first, but she allowed it to happen. Then she kissed him—again and again, desperate to get a positive reaction.
Her pride kept her from admitting that he was right, but the moment was interrupted by distant shouting and the faint sounds of a scuffle.
Pulling her hand against her chest, Lin slammed the basement door shut with her makeshift latch and bolted it into the frame. The chi-blockers, startled by the noise, briefly took their eyes off her, and the Lieutenant headed up the stairs to investigate.
While they were distracted, Lin shot backward out of her cage and raised her hands. Squeezing her fingers together, she crushed their hands within the electrified gloves. Screams accompanied the crunch of bones breaking, and she pinned them in place by stabbing the lightweight metal shards into the floor.
The Equalists writhed and shrieked in agony, clawing at their gloves, but she focused entirely on the Lieutenant, who had just escaped her range. Before she could inflict the same on him, he scrambled to rip off the glove and fling it away. She quickly stripped it and fashioned a trio of blades, sliding them between her fingers and holding them ready.
The smell of blood hung crisp and heavy as the chi-blockers slowly lost consciousness.
"If you want to save them from bleeding to death, I suggest you surrender," Lin said, earning a scowl. She watched as his eyes shifted to the glint of her blades, where she felt her own blood trickling down the back of her hand in rivulets. She was holding them too tightly, but her wounds didn't register.
As the Lieutenant faced off with Beifong, he wondered what was keeping Amon. Detaining a couple of weakened benders—Avatar or not—shouldn't have been this tedious, and he bitterly acknowledged that the man was becoming increasingly sloppy and difficult to deal with.
But that was something he would have to worry about later.
He had knives in his boots, but throwing them would simply give her more ammunition against him. That only left his kali sticks, which were also metal. Confronting this metal-starved bender with any of his weapons seemed unwise. He didn't think he could get close enough to chi-block her. Hand-to-hand combat was his final option, but the small space was slippery and littered with bodies. He could taste blood on the air.
"Since you've mutilated their hands, their only hope of someday being able to use them again is to seek a healer," he said slowly, cautious enough not to spook or anger her. The words left a sour taste in his mouth; he loathed compromising with benders. "I surrender."
But not for long, he corrected darkly.
Beifong made a show of sizing him up like she didn't know whether to believe him. "Step aside and let me pass. Don't follow me."
The Lieutenant shrugged, knowing that she wouldn't last ten seconds against Amon. Keeping his eyes on her, he lifted his hands and took measured steps down the creaking staircase. He was careful to keep his distance.
Lin didn't know what would greet her when she left the basement. She unbolted the door, recycled the metal for another blade, and headed out. The living room was empty, so she quickly crossed it and peeked out the window at the Equalists who were loading unconscious bodies into parked Satotrucks.
Tarrlok's work, she thought, grudgingly appreciative that he had managed to take out so many of them.
There was no way to sneak past them, and she couldn't see Amon anywhere. She pondered her options. If she rushed to one of the vehicles, there was a chance that the keys weren't inside—and she didn't know where Korra was.
She had to fight. Steeling herself, she opened the door and stepped out into the frosty air. Her arrival caught the attention of the chi-blockers, who signaled to each other and began advancing.
Lin tried not to smirk when she noticed that they were holding electrified gloves. It was almost too easy.
The door behind her flew open with a bark of, "Remove your gloves now!"
To her disappointment, the Equalists did as they were told and immediately shed their gloves. She put her back to the forest as she angled herself to see the Lieutenant, who stepped off the porch.
"Chi-block her while I find Amon," he ordered, rushing away through the snow. When he passed by a Satotruck, a black-swathed blur pounced on him and pulled him into a tight headlock. One by one, similar figures appeared from nowhere and attacked the chi-blockers.
Lin recognized their voices as they shouted to each other. Somehow, her officers were no longer prisoners—and they had come to find her. She hardly knew how to categorize how that made her feel, but she pushed it aside and dodged the fighting in search of Korra.
Something's happening.
Korra's heart began to race as her imagination went wild with the possibilities. Lin was escaping. A rescue party had arrived. Mako and Bolin had disguised themselves as Equalists. Whatever it was, she knew Amon was going to stop it immediately. She had to do something to help—but what?
"Amon!" the Lieutenant shouted. "This requires your attention now!"
Amon released her and shoved her back into the Satotruck. "I'll be back to deal with you."
Before he could slam the doors on her, Korra scrambled forward. Her knees buckled, unable to support her weight, and she fell bodily into his arms. They landed on the ground with teeth-rattling impact, and Amon gave a sharp exhale underneath her.
She used his momentary disorientation to slip his mask up just enough to kiss him.
You enjoy this too much, she berated herself, tilting her head into a better angle to pucker around his bottom lip and gently suck it.
It was a sloppy distraction, but it suited her needs. She felt Amon scowl as she slid her hands across his broad torso to his shoulders. Tracing his muscular biceps through his coat, she pictured the training dummy with its bright-red dots and mapped them with her fingers.
Amon shifted his right arm just as she struck. She missed his pressure point on that one, but she knew that her aim had been true on his left one by how it fell limp. Before she could celebrate her chi-blocking victory, he roughly shoved her away. The icy slush seeped through her thin clothing when she hit the ground, and she jerked away from it with a gasp.
He made for a satisfyingly disheveled image as he sat up on his right elbow: mask hanging lopsided on his face, clothing in disarray, and chest heaving. His left arm lay unmoving beside him.
Falling into dead weight, Korra slung her arms around his legs when he stood.
"Stop this!" he snarled.
A whizzing sound alerted them to an incoming projectile mere seconds before a knife hurled past Amon, who had narrowly dodged it.
Korra twisted around and was dismayed to spot Lin. "What are you doing?!"
"I'm not going to leave you—"
"—No, don't worry about me. Go. Go while you still have your bending!"
Lin continued to approach despite her protests.
"Chief, let's go!" a man called over the sound of a Satotruck engine roaring to life. At the same time, the Lieutenant yelled, "Get up, all of you! Don't let them escape!"
Frustrated that Lin wouldn't take her advice and escape, Korra released Amon and frantically scooted away from them toward the dark trees, where the highrise dropped down the mountain. She knew he would chase her.
Lin hesitated until Amon took a swipe at her. She flung herself into the open passenger door of the waiting Satotruck. "I'll find you, Korra. I promise!"
Amon hit the Satotruck behind him when a pair of knives pinned him. He tore at the wads of clothing to release himself and watched with narrowed eyes as Beifong made her getaway. In the resulting silence, eyes pierced him from every direction—from his chi-blockers awaiting instruction to his lieutenant accusing him with his stare.
For the first time in a long time, he wanted to yell. He wanted to drop to his knees, rip off his mask, and toss it into the forest. Taking deep, calming breaths, he gained on the fruitlessly retreating Avatar and bent over to snatch her up with his one good arm. He ignored her shrill voice as he tossed her back into the Satotruck with Tarrlok and slammed the doors.
I must control my anger, he told himself as his blood boiled, lest I ruin everything I've worked for.
How could this day go so spectacularly wrong?
Hollow resignation hit Korra like a pang as she clasped her hands together and bowed her head. There hadn't been much time to dwell over the loss of her bending with more pressing matters at hand, but, with Lin safe, the adrenaline from the battle had vanished, leaving her empty. As she replayed the moment in her mind, she recalled the sensation of having her chi paths cut off.
She then thought of Aang and wondered what she had done to deserve his cold silence. As her mind grappled for someone to blame, her faint spark of anger quickly dissolved into a profound sense of sadness. She had never felt so abandoned, so rejected.
Why did you let this happen to me?
A quiet sob escaped her as she laid down and curled up into a ball. The stone floor was cold and dusty beneath her cheek, and the dank wall gave off a moldy odor inches away from her nose. She hadn't even realized that she had company in this prison cell until the first meal arrived. The Equalists had given her double portions—or so it seemed. A sleeve brushed her as an arm reached past to accept the second plate.
It was Tarrlok. He muttered an apology and slunk back to his corner, opposite hers.
Korra had no idea how much time had passed since they were imprisoned. Minutes, hours, days—how could she have known how many, exactly, in such darkness? A single lantern hanging outside their cell yielded an orb of pale yellow, but it provided little comfort against the dark thoughts that endlessly circled her subconscious. The state of Republic City in her absence frightened her—but was it really her concern now?
"Looks like you got what you wanted, Korra."
Vaguely numb, Korra lifted her face from her knees and turned to look at her cellmate. His voice was hoarse, but, after so long of hearing nothing but her own quiet breathing, she welcomed it. She tore her dry lips apart to echo, "What… I wanted?"
Tarrlok, curled up in his corner, was a shadow of his former self. His normally immaculate hair hung in front of his face, and the flesh below his eyes was darkened from a lack of sleep. "You told me you'd rather be taken captive by Amon. Does this exceed your expectations?"
Indignation flared to life in her chest. She swiped her tongue over her lips to wet them and croaked, "Are you really… seriously trying to start a fight right now?"
"No, I just couldn't stand seeing you so unhappy. I'd rather you be angry with me than miserable—a little more like yourself."
Korra was dumbfounded by his response. It was strangely selfless and flattering, and it didn't seem like something that he would say on a whim. She continued to stare at him, determined to figure him out. "Do you… really like me that much?"
He laid his cheek on his knee and gave her a half-lidded, sidelong look. "'Like' is an understatement for what I feel for you. As I summarized before, there are many qualities about you that I admire."
She shook her head in amazement at his conviction. There was no guessing with Tarrlok, was there? "Well… I…"
"Please spare me the awkwardness and leave it there," he murmured, closing his eyes. "I know my feelings are unrequited, and I have no intention of pursuing you against your will. You asked me a question, so I answered it."
Korra nodded even though he couldn't see it. She sidled closer, suddenly desiring conversation. "You know, it's been way too quiet in here. I guess I've been busy thinking about everything that's happened, but…"
Tarrlok's eyes opened, and he arched an eyebrow at her. "You want to talk to me."
"I'm not sure how long we'll be trapped in here, and… Well, Lin could tell you—I hate silence."
He pursed his lips and brushed his fingers over the pink scar on his hand. He had lost the bandage at some point. "I didn't try to talk to you sooner because I didn't know how you'd react after…"
"After I became a burden to the legacy of the Avatars because of you and Amon?" she finished flatly.
Tarrlok's mouth opened. "A burden—what are you saying?"
"I'm blocking the next Avatar." Korra held out a hand in demonstration, and, after a few seconds, nothing happened. A tense silence stretched on before she explained, "I'm a nonbender."
"So, what—you have to die because you can't bend?" He shot upright, staring at her with widened eyes.
"It appears so."
"Think about what you're saying, Korra. Ending your life and throwing away everything you've worked for just because you think someone else needs to take your place. Each Avatar has his or her own life to live to the fullest, and you aren't an exception."
"But I have responsibilities that I can't take care of anymore… And I never really connected with past Avatars, so I don't even know if I've been making the right choices."
"Korra."
She bit down on her lip at the edge in his tone. He reached out and gently snagged her arm before she could escape his range. He was trembling.
"Tarrlok—"
"—Even when you think things couldn't get worse, suicide is never the way to solve it." His eyes reflected honest emotion that she couldn't decipher. "You're so overcome with your own grief that you don't realize you're leaving behind at least another lifetime of anguish and heartbreak."
Korra opened her mouth to speak, but he released her and settled back against the wall.
"But then why should it matter how other people feel when you can disappear into the spirit realm?" Tarrlok mused, sounding somewhat far away. "When responsibility and stress just… melt away into nothingness?"
"Tarrlok—what…" She quickly realized that they were treading on painful memories, but she didn't know how to respond without coming off as insensitive or ignorant. "I mean…"
"I don't want to talk about it right now. Anyway, I respect you too much to see you give up."
For the next few hours, Korra thought about Tarrlok and wondered if she had severely misjudged him.