A/N: This chapter and the epilogue after it make up the final update for this story. Thank you so much for reading. Your kind words and support mean the world to me. I mean it. Thank you. Also, apologies again for rough spots and typos in this last bit!

Previous chapter: Noatak and Korra say farewell, and then Korra and Tenzin discuss the possibility of Tarrlok returning to the North. Plus, a first phone call. Oh, and a quick reminder that several chapters back, Kwan revealed his true name as Lee to the man he met at the bar named Jae.


Chapter XLVIII

Loose Ends

2 Years Later

"Maybe we should just spatter your skin with the brush," says Akna. "Give you freckles."

"Freckles, brought out by our strong polar winter sun?" Noatak shies away from the dye-soaked brush in her hand.

"Raska's youngest has freckles," she says.

"Fair point. Counterpoint: replicating a specific freckle pattern is going to be tricky if I ever meet her friends again in the future."

"Counter-counterpoint: hair dye, glasses and a beard is not going to be enough to hide your identity." Akna whirls to face Tarrlok, who is hiding behind a newspaper on the couch. "Talk some sense into your brother."

"I agree with Akna," says Tarrlok without looking up.

"You're not even listening." Noatak throws his hands in the air. "Fine. Give me freckles, but be quick. I have a ship to catch."

"Close your eyes." She flicks the brush at him, and he feels dye spatter across his face. "Oh, dammit. That didn't work at all."

He sighs as dye drips down the tip of his nose. Marching to the bathroom sink, he washes the dye away with soap, thankfully getting it all off his skin before it stains. He lifts his head to examine himself in the mirror and scratches at his beard. The black hair dye really did cover all the grey; he'll be able to pass for mid-thirties just fine. He pulls on a stiff black suit jacket. The final touch is a bowler hat to cover his distinctive hairline. Stepping back into the living room, he does a slow spin, holding out his arms. "Transformation complete: every bit of style and good taste has been sapped from my appearance."

Tarrlok looks up and wrinkles his nose. "I'm ashamed to be related to you."

"I figured you decided that a good nine years ago."

"At least when you were Amon, you knew how to groom yourself." He stands. "I'll walk you to the docks."

"That's not necessary." Noatak wraps a scarf around his neck. He doesn't bother to bring his coat; Republic City is having an unseasonably warm winter, and it would just take up valuable luggage space.

"I insist. It's snowing. You'll need a waterbender - that fabric looks so cheap that it will probably dissolve if any water touches it." Tarrlok kisses Akna's cheek. "I'll be back soon."

"I'll get some soup started." She hugs Noatak. "Don't get arrested."

"I won't. Thanks for your help." In spite of his complaining, he really is grateful that she put so much effort into his disguise. The dye was her idea, and it's going to help immensely.

The two brothers set off, suitcases in tow, Tarrlok bending the snowflakes out of their way. Once they're a half-block away from the house, Tarrlok glances at him.

"I know why you're going to the City. Aside from visiting, I mean."

Noatak's lips flatten, and he doesn't respond.

"Don't be angry. I wasn't eavesdropping or anything like that - I accidentally overheard part of a phone call I shouldn't have when I was walking past your room." His brother's face pinches. "Surgery?"

Here we go again. "Just a procedure. I'll be out of the hospital within a day."

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" asks his brother. "Is Korra?"

"Yes, I'm okay with it, and why should Korra get a say?" The words come out more tersely than he intended, and he bites his lip. He's been trying to talk about this procedure for weeks now, and the closer they have gotten to the date, the more unwilling she has been to discuss it.

"What if she wants kids?" asks Tarrlok.

"Then she can adopt. This is not up for discussion." Resentment settles on Noatak's shoulders, weighing him down. Discovering this new procedure had him delighted, at first: a simple way to become permanently sterile without any major side effects. Only the most advanced doctors in the world were performing it, all of them in Republic City. He thought the difficult part would be getting into and out of the city safely, not convincing the people around him that it was a good idea to go through with it.

For a minute, the only sound is their boots crunching in the snow.

"It's safe?" says Tarrlok. "The surgery."

"Procedure. It's safe, and I'm going through with it, and that's the end of it." He eyes his brother. "We both know the bloodline has to end here, and it's not fair for Korra to bear that responsibility on her shoulders."

They're silent as they approach the docks, then Tarrlok pulls him in for a hug so tight that Noatak accidentally drops his suitcases.

"Don't let anyone recognize you," says Tarrlok. "Especially the police."

"I'll be fine. I'd like to see the police try to lay a hand on me." Bravado is easier than acknowledging his nervousness. He pulls away and cups his brother's cheek in a fond farewell. No matter how old they get, Tarrlok will always be his little brother, and he can no longer bear to leave him behind without acknowledging that bond. "Be good while I'm gone, kid."

Tarrlok knocks his hand away. "I'm forty-six years old, you ass."

Noatak grins. Hoisting his luggage onto his back, he turns to board the ship.

Soon, he'll be in Republic City, but he has one important stop to make first.

.*.*.*.

The basement door flies open, and Qing bursts through it, an overnight bag slung over her shoulder. She closes the door and locks it behind her. "I'm off." She spins to look at Lee and Jae, who are washing dishes in the kitchen. "Why's it so quiet? Where are the girls?"

"Out in the yard. It sounded like they were going to put together a going away banner for you, so take a look on your way out." Lee moves in to give her a soft peck on the cheek. "Safe travels, Qing."

"I'll be back soon enough. Don't burn the place down." She turns to Jae. "You too, Jae. This month's rent is on the counter."

"Thanks! Have a good trip. Take in a hot spring or two on my behalf."

"Why did you tell him about the rent money and not me?" asks Lee, feigning insult. "Think I'll lose it?"

"Clearly he's the brains and you're the muscle. See you next week." She winks and then hurries out the door, her heels clacking.

"I think she just insulted both of us," mutters Lee.

"So long as her rent pays our food bills, she can insult us as often as she likes." Jae grins as he pockets the cash.

They fall into a comfortable silence as they continue washing the dishes. Silence has become a precious commodity, and it seems to waste it on chores; it's been a long time since they connected as proper adults during daylight hours. Throwing the towel aside, Lee leans against the counter, his fingers crawling playfully toward his partner's hand. "Looks like we finally have a few minutes to ourselves."

"Looks like it." Jae grins. "Maybe we should take advantage of that."

"Maybe we should."

Jae's embrace pins him against the cupboards, and his mouth is just touching Lee's neck when they hear the back door slam. They guiltily burst apart from each other.

"Uncles!" greets Hui as she skids to a stop on the tile floor. Lee instinctively claps a hand over the corner of the counter so she doesn't bang her head; there was a mishap last week, and her bump hasn't quite healed yet.

The girl doesn't seem to notice the gesture. She beams at the men. "Auntie Midori liked our goodbye sign so much that she took it with her."

Jae smiles at Hui and says proudly, "That was very kind of you two, making a sign for her like that."

The younger sister, Hao, hasn't quite warmed up to them yet; she hides behind Hui, clinging to her dress, and peers out with wide grey eyes. Lee sighs to himself. It's been a couple months already. How long will it take for Hao to accept them as her caregivers? He crouches down to her level.

"Did you help your sister, Hao?"

The young girl nods shyly.

"She did the sparkles," says Hui.

"Well, since both of you worked so hard, what do you say we go to the park to relax?"

Jae gives him a confused glance. "Don't you work today?"

With a shrug, Lee says, "It's the low season; they won't mind. We'll stop in on the way and let them know I'm taking the day off." Work is just a wage; family is more important. He has seen for himself how quickly loved ones can be lost. He smiles at the sisters and rises to his feet, his knees creaking.

"Sounds good to me," says Jae. "Grab your jackets, girls! Let's stop for ice pops on the way. My treat."

The girls cheer, and the four of them venture toward the park.

After a stop for ice pops and a quick exchange with Lee's boss at the bar, the family heads to the park. They manage to find a quiet corner near the back, by the tree line. Hui and Hao sit on the grass and begin to make kites out of the supplies in Hui's backpack. Lee settles onto a bench, and Jae sits beside him. Their fingers interlock and their heads lilt until they're touching.

"Are we doing okay?" asks Jae softly, and Lee squeezes his hand.

"They're smiling. It's a start. How about you, love? Are you doing okay?"

"Yeah." The man snuggles closer, resting his head on Lee's shoulder. "I think I'm ready to go back to work."

"You sure? There's no rush." Money is a bit tight, but his partner's well-being is more important than money.

"Being out of work is driving me crazy," murmurs Jae. "I'm ruminating on the same thoughts, over and over. It'll be better if I'm distracted."

Lee turns to plant a soft kiss on the other's forehead. "Maybe start out part-time and see how you feel. Go slowly if you need to."

Footsteps sound on the cobblestone pathway behind them, and the bench shifts as someone sits on Jae's other side. It's a busy park, so sharing benches with strangers is common, but Lee is a bit annoyed that anyone would intrude on their quaint family gathering. He ignores the new arrival and watches the girls decorate their kites instead.

"They even look like the two of you," says a man's voice quietly, as if to himself.

Lee has never had the patience for idle chit-chat with strangers, but Jae, always gregarious, turns to greet the newcomer. "Yeah, we think so, too. My sister and I have similar tastes in men, I suppose." There's a pause. "Had."

"I'm sorry," says the man, his voice still quiet. "I didn't mean to-"

"No, it's okay. Thank you for your observation. Maybe it'll help the girls feel like they belong, you know? Like we're flesh and blood."

"Uncle Jae, Uncle Lee," calls Hui. "Look at my dragon!" She holds up a red kite with uneven edges and an orange smear by its mouth. There's no way it will ever fly, but Lee feels a surge of pride anyway. Ignorance of the laws of the world - physics, social codes, probability - always seems to give the girls a kind of freedom that he lost long ago. Their creativity isn't bound by any constraints yet. It's amost inspiring.

"That's beautiful, Hui," he replies.

Jae shifts, making the bench's wooden slats creak. "I haven't seen you around here before," he says to the stranger.

"Just passing through." The voice is stronger now, and the back of Lee's neck begins to prickle.

"Not many folks passing through here," says Jae.

"No, I imagine not. I was hoping to bump into an old friend while I was here." There's no mistaking that voice now.

Lee's teeth clench, and he stands, whirling to face the stranger.

Amon - no, Noatak - sits at the end of the bench, heavily disguised, but no disguise could ever fool his ex-lieutenant.

"How did you find me?" growls Lee.

Icy blue eyes lock onto him, and every muscle in his body tightens in response.

Sensing the danger in his partner's voice and stance, Jae rises to his feet. "Maybe I'll take the girls for a bit of a walk. It's windier on the bay side, so their kites will fly better there." His tone is conversational, but when he looks at Lee, his face reads, do you need help?

Lee gives his head an abrupt shake: I'll be fine. He circles around the bench to loom over Noatak, who looks up at him, face blank. You won't fool me with that blank look. I know you too well. The blanker the face, the stronger the emotions behind it.

"How did you find me?" he barks again.

"You made no effort to hide yourself. This is the same town where we parted ways." Noatak watches Jae lead the girls away. "I see you've integrated yourself quite well here."

"Leave. We had our closure."

"You had your closure, Kwan, but I have not." A brow cocks. "No, not Kwan. Which is it, Jae or Lee?"

"To you? Neither. Why are you here?"

"Please sit," says Noatak. "I'd prefer to keep this conversation private, and you're making a scene."

Lee grits his teeth, but obeys. As much as he doesn't want to admit to being afraid, he's been on the receiving end of bloodbending too many times for his liking. The thought of this monster hurting him in front of Jae and the girls is terrifying.

Noatak must pick up on his fear, because he leans closer. "There's no need to be afraid. I'm here as a gesture of good will. I never repaid you for your initial investment into the Equalists."

"I don't need your money."

"Are you sure? It sounds like you've just inherited two young girls. That has to be an unexpected financial strain."

The tone almost sounds like sympathy, and Lee is so exhausted that his defenses drop. The two extra mouths don't eat much, but it does add up, and they're still paying off funeral expenses and legal fees. He stares at his family across the park. Jae is dragging the kites along the ground with a buffoonish running style, and the girls are rolling on the grass in fits of laughter. Jae drops the act for a moment and glances Lee's way with a worried expression, but Lee nods to let him know everything is okay. Watching the three of them at play is helping him stay calm.

"They were good people," he says aloud. "The girls' parents. Treated me like family right from the start. This wasn't how I wanted to raise kids of my own. Not at that price."

After a long moment passes, Noatak pulls out a wad of notes bundled with an elastic, then sets it on the bench between them.

Lee eyes it. His pride is telling him to ignore it, but there's a lot they could do with some extra money: investments, house upgrades, extra activities for the girls. He picks up the bundle and shoves it in his pocket. "There. You got your closure."

The other leans forward, his elbows on his knees, and warmth begins to seep into his voice: "It wasn't just the money, Kwan. I wanted to see how you were doing. I'm glad you were finally able to have a family of your own, even if through unfortunate circumstances. I wasted your time for far too long."

This is a completely different Noatak than the one Lee has in his memories, and he doesn't know how to reply. After a long pause, he says, "Paying me back and talking like that - you're tying off loose ends. You're either about to kill yourself for real, or settle down. Given the awful beard and the glasses, I'd guess it's the second one, and you're marrying someone whose friends might recognize you."

"Not quite marriage yet, but you have the right idea."

"So what, you came here looking for my blessing?"

"No. I would never ask that of you." The man hesitates and lifts his hat to run a hand through his dyed hair. "I had a lot of guilt about how things played out between us. I needed to make sure you were okay."

"Your partner was all right with you coming to find me?" asks Lee with a raised brow.

"She warned that I might dredge up unpleasant memories for us both, but my guilt won out in the end. Besides, when we last parted, I was still running. I'm done running. I face my mistakes now."

The honesty of the words makes Lee's face twist, and he mutters, "I miss you."

Noatak's gaze snaps to him. "Pardon?"

"You heard me. Not romantically; I love Jae more deeply than I've ever loved anyone before, and we're still in the early years yet - it will only get stronger from here. But I miss things about you. Our late-night talks and plans. Sneaking into town for a bit of debauchery. How well we read each other in combat, how the two of us together were unstoppable. Before things got crazy, we were good together." He gives a low sigh. "We weren't just lovers. We were colleagues. Best friends. For twenty years, we blended two lives into one. I miss your friendship."

"We did make a good team," says Noatak quietly.

"We did. And we've both grown since then. Amon would never have come to check up on me, or give me funds, or apologize; Amon would have run away without looking back. You aren't the same man you were. Neither am I." Lee thinks of the girls' parents. "Life is too short to hold grudges. I'm not saying we're friends. I'm not even saying I like you. But I'm fine, fine enough that I can miss you a bit even after everything that happened. You didn't scar me or ruin my life beyond repair. That's what you wanted to check, isn't it?"

Noatak seems taken aback; he sits upright. After a pause, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a business card, holding it out with two hands. "If you ever need accounting services."

Lee casts a wary eye at the card, but doesn't reach for it. "Saomik?" he reads.

"Chose it on a whim, and it stuck. Name like that doesn't draw much notice up north, and neither do I."

"Up north. So if you stopped here, you're heading south." Lee eyes him. "Down to Republic City to see the Avatar, I'm guessing?"

"I'm not the same man I was." Noatak sets the business card on a slat and stands. "Good luck with your new family, Kwan. Take care." He turns and walks away. This time, his footsteps are nearly silent. A ghost.

Lee doesn't bother to watch him leave; his gaze is fixed on the business card. He should probably tear it in half and throw it out, but it couldn't hurt to have access to an accountant if they ever need one.

Once he's certain Noatak is out of view, he opens his wallet and slots the card carefully inside. There's a silver clip inside the wallet with a reflective surface, and he's surprised to catch himself smiling.

He claps the wallet closed and, without looking back, hurries across the grass to join his family.

.*.*.*.

Noatak's heart is still thumping as he boards the ship. He does feel closure now, and he's genuinely glad Kwan is doing well.

There's an uncomfortable undercurrent to his emotions, however: humility. The older he gets, the more he realizes he grossly overestimated his power to ruin lives. Korra bounced back, Kwan bounced back, even Tarrlok bounced back. He imagines he'll find the same thing in Republic City itself: everything in order, as if the Revolution never happened. A tiny part of him is miffed that he is so much less powerful than he used to think - I never once had the ability to shape the world the way I thought - but he swallows it back. He knows this ugly, power-hungry aspect of his personality exists, but he refuses to let it engulf him the way it once did.

All that is behind him now. It's time to look forward.

Though, as anxious as he is to be reunited with Korra, looking forward isn't exactly a relief. He isn't certain what he'll see on her face when he arrives.

Reaching into his backpack, he pulls out a small box and opens it. Inside is a stone pendant he carved especially for her, a more permanent version of the glass one she wears now, both in terms of durability and meaning. His thumb traces the petals. It's probably his best piece - he's pleased with the smoothness of the linework and the intricacy of the details - but he hasn't found the right opportunity to present it to her during their last several visits. As much as he values their visits, their phone calls, and their letters, he's been having a hard time envisioning all those things transferring to a permanent relationship. The recent tension over his upcoming vasectomy is no help.

Wall after wall after wall. He closes the box and buries it in his bag. His hand brushes against her most recent letter, and he pulls it out and reads it again, even though he already knows it by heart. She speaks of love and anticipation, but either he's becoming paranoid, or there's false hope in her words.

You're paranoid, Tarrlok said when he brought up his fears a few days ago. She's crazy about you. Don't do your thing where you get scared and run away just because people are getting too close to you.

He takes in a deep breath; it shudders when he releases it. Emotional confrontation is his least favourite type of confrontation, and this trip is already full of it.

.*.*.*.

Korra paces along the dock as the ship approaches. She can feel Lian, Bolin and Mako following her with their eyes, hear them whispering between themselves.

"I'm sure we'll like him just fine, Korra," calls Lian. "You can calm down."

"Yeah, stop pacing. You're making Naga nervous," says Bolin.

Korra turns and sees Naga stretched out across a pile of rope, her face relaxed. "Oh, yeah, poor girl is shaking."

"Okay, so you're making me nervous." He stretches his arms over his head. "You're worrying about the wrong thing, anyway. What if he doesn't like us?"

"I'm not nervous about anyone liking anyone. You're all wonderful people." Both her parents got along with 'Saomik' just fine during a trip to the South over the summer, and Katara, even knowing his true identity, seemed fond of him, so she sees no reason why her friends won't be the same. The social aspects of this visit will be fine.

In truth, she's nervous about how things will go once she and Noatak are alone. The last few weeks have been filled with increasing tension, and there is sure to be at least one heavy conversation between them. She wipes sweaty palms on her skirt. What if he's angry with me for being unsupportive about his surgery? What if he won't even look me in the eye? What if I seem so unappealing now that he fell for Kwan again? Thoughts flood her mind beyond her control, each more ridiculous than the last.

Passengers begin to file down the stairs, and she doesn't realize she's holding her breath until she notices stars swimming before her eyes.

He steps onto the top of the stairs, and her heart skips. "Wait here!" she cries out to her friends, moving forward to greet him.

He doesn't see her until he's at the bottom of the stairs, and his face instantly lights up when he sees her running toward him. With no hesitation, he steps out of the flow of passengers, dropping his bags. Korra jumps at him and he catches her in a hug, his lips closing over hers. Her anxiety melts away and she opens her mouth for him.

"I missed you," she murmurs between kisses, and he gives a soft grunt of agreement and kisses her even harder.

Maybe all their tension will be easier to overcome than she thought.

She would love to make out with him until her jaw is sore, but there are too many people around for it to be polite. Besides, she's a recognizable face here, and she doesn't want to draw too much attention to her relationship. Pulling back, she examines him.

"Your hair is so dark!" Her fingers rake his temple. "Did you dye your beard, too?"

"And the skin beneath it, I'm sure. I hope I don't have to shave anytime soon, or I'll have a dyed shadow." His eyes search hers, and their smiles fade.

"Did you find Kwan?" she whispers.

He nods, then bends to pick up his luggage. "He's moved on, and he's happy. I found my closure."

She smiles, feeling a bit of stress leave her body. "Here, let me help you with that." Relieving a bag from his grip, she slips her free hand into its place.

"I had a hat, too," he says, looking around the wooden surface of the dock.

"Oh, here." She bends down to pick it up and places it on his head. "Sorry, I must have knocked it off while we were kissing."

"Don't apologize." He straightens the brim and leans in to peck her cheek. "I'm glad you greeted me with so much exuberance. I wasn't sure how our reunion was going to play out."

"Let's talk about that later. I'm just glad to see you." She gives him a shy smile, and he returns it.

Remembering herself, she says, "Ready to formally meet my friends?"

"Is Officer Mako among them?"

"Yeah." She tried to manufacture an excuse to leave him out of this meeting, but she couldn't think of any. The risk of recognition is great, but so is his disguise, so she's optimistic that they'll be fine.

Hand in hand, they walk toward Korra's friends, who are still waiting patiently at the end of the dock. Lian is bouncing in place, and Bolin looks excited. Mako is more reserved, his hands on his hips.

"Everyone," says Korra as they arrive, "this is Saomik."

Lian jumps forward and gives an enthusiastic bow. "I've been so excited to meet you, Saomik! Korra has told me all about you."

Noatak studies her, eyes sparkling, and that's when Korra remembers that the two knew each other long ago. It must be strange for him to see his colleagues' little girl all grown up, as if he's seeing a long-lost niece.

"You must be Lian. It's an honour to meet you." His voice is light, even higher pitched than his usual conversational tone, a part of his disguise. "And this must be Mako and Bolin."

"It's an honour to meet you, sir," says Bolin cheerfully.

Mako, however, folds his arms over his chest and glares at the man. "Hey."

Korra's heart begins to pound. Is he just being an ass, or does he know something's up? Trying to keep calm, she turns to her partner and says, "If you're okay with it, Saomik, I thought we might all share some drinks and dinner in the hotel bar before you and I retire for the night."

"Hotel?" Noatak raises his brows at her. "I thought we were staying at Air Temple Island."

"We will soon, but I thought we should do something a little special tonight." Part of her reasoning is that their relationship needs special attention right now, but also, the hotel is right by the hospital, which will make the whole recovery phase easier for both of them.

"Fair enough. I'll contribute to the cost, of course." He smiles. "Shall we?"

As they begin to walk, Korra recounts the latest news from Republic City, taking extra care to explain locations as if Noatak is new to the city. Bolin interrupts to play host, pointing out interesting landmarks and architecture. They arrive at their hotel and stand in line at the check-in desk.

Mako clears his throat. "Korra, can I talk to you for a second?"

She winces, already guessing what's on his mind. "Can it wait?"

"Now."

"Okay, just a minute." She turns to Noatak. "I'll be right back."

Noatak must sense the anxiety in her voice, because he pulls her in and kisses her forehead. "Don't be long, honey." It's not like him to be so openly affectionate, and the only nickname he has ever called her is Avatar, so she wonders if he's hamming up his sweetness to assuage any suspicions.

Frowning, Mako leads her around a corner, out of earshot of hotel guests and staff. His brows are heavy, but his voice is quiet enough that only she will hear him: "I know he's Noatak."

Her heart catches in her throat. "Mako, what the hell?"

"You think a beard and some glasses are going to fool me? I saw him all the time when he was a prisoner: I know who he is. If I recognize him, then so will Beifong and any cops who ever spent time in that part of the prison."

"Noatak is dead," she growls, tears springing to her eyes, "and yes, Saomik happens to resemble him, but that's just coincidence."

"Do you think I'm stupid?" His voice begins to crescendo.

"Shh, Mako, please." She grabs his shoulders, looking earnestly into his eyes. "Please, Mako. He lives a very quiet life now; he's no threat to anyone. He has a lot of regrets about how everything played out, and he's completely self-aware of all his shortcomings."

"Korra-"

She won't let him speak; she has had this speech in mind since she knew Noatak was coming to visit. "I know you have your principles. I know you value honesty, and justice. But you also believe the justice system is there to help people reform, right? That all bad people can become good? I mean, look at you and Bolin - you started from a life of crime. Look at Tarrlok. We know criminals can reform. We know they can be forgiven." Her voice softens. "And look at me. Remember how I was a bloodbender, how I hurt you, how I was on a path that could have ultimately made me a threat to the entire world. You've kept quiet about me because you know I had good in me. Everyone has good they can tap into if they want to. Everyone. Even him. The system worked."

Mako is quiet for so long that Korra feels her panic rising.

When he finally speaks, he says, "He's treating you well?"

"So well. We're good for each other." She swallows back a rising lump in her throat. "I love him."

He sighs and rubs his forehead. "Okay, fine, I won't tell anyone-"

Korra jumps and wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him down for a tight hug. "Mako, thank you!"

"You didn't let me finish," he says, but he doesn't pull away. "The second I sense he's any kind of threat, I'm going straight to Beifong. And you'd better be careful. There are people here who will recognize him - not many, but a few."

"We'll be careful. Thanks, Mako. You're doing the right thing."

He sighs and breaks the hug, shaking his head. "I hope so."

.*.*.*.

To Noatak's surprise, he enjoys socializing with Korra's friends. Their youth and cosmopolitan attitudes make for some unexpected conversation topics: celebrities, pro-bending, city politics. Lian subtly turns the conversation to the status of non-benders, sharing all the advances the city has made in recent years, and he feels a surge of pride that one of his followers, at least, took his teachings to heart. Bolin is chatty, as well; he has interesting tales about film and athletics. Mako, however, only watches him. The yellow eyes, heavy brows and sharp nose remind him of a bird of prey.

When the time finally comes to retire upstairs with Korra, he says quietly to her, "Mako saw right through my disguise?"

She sighs. "Yeah."

"Is he a threat?"

"I swore him to secrecy. Convinced him you had changed." She shrugs. "I think it's okay. He still hasn't told anyone about my bloodbending, so he's trustworthy. And he has a few dirty secrets of his own I can hold against him if I need to. It'll be fine."

She won't look him in the eye, and he guesses it has nothing to do with Mako. He stops her outside the door of the hotel room and lifts her chin until she looks at him.

"Korra?"

"I just wish you would reconsider," she says softly, and he sees they're already moving into the difficult part of the evening.

His jaw hardens, and he turns to jam his key in the lock. "And I wish you would understand how important this is to me. There's no impact to you, other than lifting the burden of unwanted pregnancy off your shoulders. It's not going to affect my performance once the incision heals."

"I know, I know." She follows him into the room and shuts the door behind her.

"Then why are you so opposed?" When she looks away, he grabs her hand and leads her to the bed, sitting her down and kneeling in front of her. "Korra, stop being so evasive about this. I can't address your unhappiness until I understand the root of it."

She gives a sigh of defeat. "You're making this decision without all the facts."

"What do you mean?"

"Tarrlok didn't want me to tell you. And maybe I shouldn't, but I want to make sure that you have considered everything when you make a decision this permanent."

They've been hiding something from me? Trying to protect me? Isn't Tarrlok always insisting that it's wrong for me to hide information to protect him? His skin crawls as he waits.

She swallows hard, then finally makes eye contact. "Did you ever stop to wonder why Tarrlok's face and hand weren't destroyed by the explosion? He was in the centre of the blast, after all."

He feels a spike of heat, deep inside his head: a dream he can't quite remember.

"You healed him," she says quietly. "His face was destroyed and his hand was nearly blown off, and you healed him. You drew together bone and muscle that had been nearly vapourized. That's stronger healing than mine, possibly even stronger than Katara's."

There's a flash of Tarrlok's face, blistered and twisted, a nearly-severed hand so burnt that he can barely recognize it, and he cringes, pushing the memory under. "I'm not a healer."

"You are. You healed Tarrlok, with no training. And by using your bloodbending to clear my chi pathways, you healed me, too, remember?" She reaches over to grip his jaw, looking intently into his eyes. "Your bloodline has the potential for great evil, it's true, but it also has potential for great good. Imagine where you would be today if Yakone had nurtured your healing abilities instead of fuelling your destructive side. Imagine how powerful you would be if you had embraced both waterbending and bloodbending as healing arts instead of destruction. Think of the powerful healers who could come from your bloodline."

He feels a deep, claustrophobic panic, like the one that gripped him when he was about to drown after their final showdown so long ago. He abruptly stands and begins to pace.

"It's your decision, in the end," she says quietly. "You have all the facts now, and only you can decide if the possible healing is worth the possible violence. I promise to respect whatever choice you make. I just felt you had the right to know exactly what abilities were in your blood."

He sinks to a seat beside her and closes his eyes, trying to stop his body from caving in under the weight of this information.

"Are you okay?" she asks quietly, but then she seems to think better of it: "I guess that was a dumb question."

"I'm just disoriented." He opens his eyes and takes a deep breath in through his nose, out through his mouth. Does the potential for good outweigh the potential for evil? How can I trust myself to make this decision, with all the times I've weighed the two in the past and made the wrong choice?

Defensive, he turns the attention back to her. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I want you to have all the information to-"

He cuts her off. "That's not the only reason, though, is it?"

She looks away. For a moment, she's so quiet that he doesn't think she's going to reply, but finally she says, "You're right. I'm selfish, Noatak. The reason I don't want you to go through with this is..." She hesitates. "I want to have your children one day."

The whirling in his head stops. Time freezes.

The Avatar wants my children.

His eyes flutter closed. Who would have better access to proper training than the Avatar's descendents? Who would have more balance, more respect for people of all walks of life? He sees children, their children, healing the sick and the dying. He sees people travelling from around the world the way they do with Katara, seeking cures that modern medicine can't give them.

Could even I, with such access to proper trainers, have become a great man? Could I have saved lives instead of destroying them?

His eyes open.

Beside him, Korra is holding her face in her hands.

"Korra?"

"I'm sorry." Her voice wavers; she doesn't lift her head. "I'm so selfish. I shouldn't have dumped all this on you the night before your surgery. I wasn't going to say anything."

His face falls. "It's okay, Korra. We swore to be honest with each other, always, even if our honest feelings were less than admirable. Thank you for your honesty." Even though his head is still spinning, he gathers her in his arms and pulls her in close. She nuzzles his neck.

"I wanted to say all this earlier," she says, "but it's so hard to have a serious conversation over the phone. It's hard to do anything over the phone."

"It is," he agrees, pressing his nose into the top of her head. He breathes in. They spend so much time missing each other that whenever they're together, the little things like the scent of her hair make his heart ache in anticipation. It's as if their visits only remind him of their upcoming separation.

"It's so much more difficult than I thought it would be," he says quietly. "I miss you even when we're together now."

"I know." She sniffles. "It keeps getting harder."

He tilts her chin and presses a kiss to a tear on her cheek. When he pulls away, she leans forward to follow him, stealing a kiss.

"Make love to me," she whispers into his lips. "I need to feel close to you."

He hesitates. Their discussion didn't come to any kind of conclusion, and he's not sure he can drop the line of thought so quickly.

Still, maybe relieving one kind of tension between them will help the other. He reaches out a hand and, when she takes it, leads her along the top of the bed. They stretch out together and begin to kiss. At first, it's slow and tender, but then his mind begins to wander. How do I feel about my bending now? How do I feel about having children with Korra? He mechanically helps her pull off her clothes, and she helps him do the same. Do I still want to go through with the procedure? Maybe I should postpone and give it some more thought - but I swore my legacy had to end here.

"Are you okay?" whispers Korra, and he blinks, coming back to himself. She's half-lying on top of him, her hand on his chest, and he realizes he hasn't been moving his mouth in reaction to her kisses.

He feels a twinge of guilt. Sitting up, he says gently, "Lie on your back."

Korra looks concerned. "Are you sure? If you're upset, we don't have to-"

"I'm okay." He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "Lie on your back."

It was his intention to occupy himself with an elaborate task so that he wouldn't have a chance to get lost in his thoughts - and he knows that Korra will enjoy this approach as well - but as he kneels between her legs, he is overcome by a wave of fondness. His hands softly stroke between her legs.

This has the power to bring our child into the world, if we choose, if we're lucky.

His caresses are so gentle that he doesn't expect her to respond, but she surprises him with a soft, pleased sigh. That little sigh is enough to spark his body alight, and his mind finally quietens. He presses his nose against her, mouth open, and breathes in.

Over the past two years, their reunions have always been frantic and hurried, their bodies racing to release all the tension they built during their absence, but this time, he touches her gently, as if handling glass, feeling its contours. It's just breath and fingertips coaxing moans from her, at first, until she arches into him and pleads for his mouth. Even then, he moves slowly, feeling her skin with his tongue, pausing to savour the taste. She writhes and moans and her hand finds his wrist, locking onto it with a grip tight enough to bruise. He only gives in to her pleas at the very end, increasing his speed, and she loses control; her thighs squeeze his head so tightly that he can barely hear her cries. He stays a few beats longer than necessary, until she twitches and touches the top of his head as a request that he stop.

He's so hard that he aches, but he moves up her body to kiss her neck, giving her time to recover. Her hand lazily combs his hair, and when he pulls back to look at her, she gives him a drowsy smile.

"Now you lie on your back," she whispers.

His groin twinges at the suggestion, and he eagerly obeys. She trades positions with him, still a bit clumsy, settling between his legs. She surprises him by jumping right into her work, hands and mouth working in unison, and he wants to watch her, but his eyes are screwing shut. Then he's vaguely aware that he's thrashing and crying out, but it feels too good for him to care. He's just beginning to doubt his ability to hang on, when she pulls away.

"I want to ride you," she says, and the words are so beautiful that he can barely manage a nod.

She helps him put on protection, then climbs on top of him, facing away. This isn't the position he expected, but the view is so tantalizing that he grips flesh and his neck arches, and he can't find the words to warn her.

Hold on, just a little longer, he tells himself, because he never wants this to end. Hold on, hold on...

"Come on," she pants, and her permission overwhelms his restraint. He yells and feels it through his entire body, to the tips of his limbs, lifting off the mattress and collapsing in shudders.

When he finally opens his eyes, his world is still bathed in white fog. His jaw is frozen open, and sweat drips from his hairline.

Korra detaches herself and rotates to face him, lying stomach-down on top of him. Her arms fold over his chest as she studies him, a smirk on her lips.

He closes his eyes and smiles. "Don't look so smug," he says, still panting.

"Good thing we aren't at the Temple - you yelled pretty loudly there," she says, tapping his nose.

"Stop it." Sweat is still trickling down his cheek, and he wipes it and looks at his fingertips. The liquid is black.

"Shit," he mutters.

"Don't worry, it's still covering the grey. Just a little dye run-off."

"I'll ruin the pillows."

She shrugs. "We'll pay the damages. We've done worse to hotel rooms before."

"I suppose we have." He reaches out to touch her lips, still too drained to control a proper caress. "I think... I think we needed that."

"I think we did." She hesitates, then says quietly, "We should get some sleep. You have a big day tomorrow."

His mind suddenly sharpens. She's assuming I'm getting the vasectomy.

Am I?

"Are you sure you want to sleep now?" he asks. "After tomorrow, I won't be able to have sex until our next visit." If I go through with it.

"It's okay. I'm pretty tired, and you must be exhausted from your travels."

She's correct; he's already fighting to keep his eyes open. "Maybe we'll wake up in the night and do this again."

"I suppose we'll see." Tapping the tip of his nose again, she says, "Don't worry; whatever sex we don't have this visit, we'll have double next time."

"I won't argue with that."

They share a slow kiss, and then crawl under the covers. He spoons behind her; her fingers interlock with his, and she kisses his knuckles, then reaches over to turn out the lamp.

As his eyes close, he reaches the stage between wake and sleep, where thoughts take colourful form beneath closed eyelids in a waking dream. He sees an infant in Korra's arms, and as his imagination paints the colours and shapes of the scene, he feels heat in his heart, hotter than any love he has ever known.

"I love you." He doesn't know if he imagines the words or says them, but they make the infant smile, and his body glows.

.*.*.*.

When Korra awakens to the alarm the next morning, she's alone in bed. She finds Noatak in the kitchenette, a bag of takeout noodles on the table, and she's instantly reminded of the early days of their relationship. He's wearing nothing but pyjama bottoms, and his hair is damp and slicked back from his face. Her eyes trail down his torso, taking him in, and she falls against the doorframe, watching him set out bowls.

"Morning," she says.

He looks up, then smiles. "Morning." She loves that smile, almost as white as the bath towel. It's strange to think that it was once a rare sight; it comes so easily now.

Especially this morning. As she studies him, she recognizes his emotion: relief. This is what the procedure means to him: relief. It's the end of years of anxiety, she tells herself, trying to honestly examine how it makes her feel. Her emotions surprise her. She's sad, of course; a part of her is still wishing she could have his biological children. Mostly, however, she feels happy for him: truly, genuinely happy. This is the day he finds true freedom from his past.

"Ready for your big day?" she asks as she sits down.

"Are you?" he asks, sliding into the other chair, and she hears concern in his voice.

"I am." She looks him in the eye as she speaks, showing her honest support. "I'll drop you off, and I'll be there when you wake up. I was thinking of booking the room again tonight so you can recover close to the hospital."

He gives a thankful one-sided smile, then serves the noodles.

"Thank you for getting breakfast," she says. "Brings back memories."

"Indeed." He cocks a brow at her. "Memories almost three years old."

Three years.

She looks down at her noodles. Three years, and even though they've grown together, the status of their relationship hasn't changed one bit: they're still facing an uncertain future, visiting in secret. Her smile fades, and she quickly stuffs her mouth full of noodles to disguise her mood change.

As they eat, her mind is racing. They've been struggling to keep this relationship together for so long. She doesn't care anymore if they can have kids together or not: she just needs the two of them to be together. She needs this domestic partnership, silently eating noodles in the kitchen, in their pyjamas. This comfort, this shared space is what she misses when they're apart, even more than the sex.

She's been toying with an idea for awhile now, but it has only recently begun to solidify. With all the difficulties they've been having lately, she was afraid of suggesting more change, but now she realizes just how much their current situation is hurting them.

"It's too hard," she blurts out loud.

His eyes lock onto her, his face neutral. There's no emotion in his voice.

"This," she says. "It's too hard. Being so far apart all the time. I can't be happy like this, not long-term, and I know you can't, either. That's the real problem here, not vasectomies or children or meeting friends."

His chopsticks are frozen halfway to his mouth, and a slight quiver in them is the only indication that he's upset. Feeling guilty, she reaches over and covers her hand with his.

"I should have phrased that better," she says. "I didn't mean to scare you. I have an idea about our future, how we can make things easier. But it should probably wait until after your procedure."

"I have some time." His voice is still emotionless.

She takes a deep breath. "Okay, so this is still in the planning stages, but I think it might work. I'm the Avatar for the entire world, but I've only ever lived at the South Pole and in Republic City. I want to spend a few years in each of the lands I never lived in before, to learn more about the cultures and the people of each of the lands." She squeezes his hand. "I want to start with the North."

He blinks. "The North?"

"I don't have to live in your village right away," she says in a rush. "Maybe somewhere nearby, so we can spend weekends together at first and see where it goes. Or I could get an apartment in your village. And maybe if things worked out, you could accompany me on the rest of my world trip, if you wanted. We'd be far enough away from people who would recognize you that we could even be open about our relationship - well, Korra and Saomik - to the public. I'd make sure to keep the media quiet as much as possible. Hell, I'll bribe them for privacy if I have to." His face still isn't showing any expression, and she starts to panic. I'm pushing too much too soon; he's going to pull away. "There's no pressure, of course - I'm getting ahead of myself. We'll start slowly and we could see where it goes. I'm not assuming anything."

He's quiet for a moment, then he sits upright, still studying her.

"Say something," she murmurs.

"I have no ties to any location," he says. "My only loyalties are to you and to Tarrlok, and he and Akna take good care of each other, so I suspect he would be comfortable with me travelling, so long as we visited often." His voice is calm, but his hand is trembling beneath hers - or maybe her hand is trembling atop his. "You already have a key to my home, Korra, and I was serious when I said you were welcome to come and go as you please. I would be honoured to host you during your stay in my village, if you like."

Her heart thuds. "Are you asking me to move in with you?"

"Yes."

Tears well in her eyes, and she launches herself at him so hard that she almost knocks his chair backwards; her arms tighten around him. "We can live together. We can have this, every morning." She sniffles, trying not to cry. "Yes, I'll move in with you."

His smile is cautious. "Are the Council and the president going to allow you to leave?"

"They can go fuck themselves if not," she says passionately. "I'm the Avatar!" She pulls back to smile at him. His eyes are red and glassy, but placid. Leaning forward, she kisses his nose.

"I'll start making the arrangements today, while you're in the hospital," she says, eager to get started.

He clears his throat. "I'm going to ask them to delay the procedure."

"What?"

"For six months. Now that I have all the facts, I'd like to take more time to think this through." He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "You planted some ideas in my mind last night, and I want to give them adequate consideration."

She stares at him. He must mean having kids together. What else could he mean? Her jaw quivers.

"In fact..." Noatak stands and holds out a hand. "Come with me."

"What?"

"It's urgent." He has an odd expression on his face, as if he's struggling to contain something, something that, so far as she knows, has never been a problem for him before.

Confused, she grabs his hand, and follows him to the window.

"What are you-" she says.

He throws open the window, revealing the fire escape, and steps onto it.

"Noatak," she says, but he's already climbing up the ladder. She hurries to keep up. "We're still in our pyjamas!"

They climb onto the roof, and the view of the city around them is so familiar that she feels herself smile, remembering the days when her feelings for him were unsettling and new. The memories are so strong that she can almost smell cigar smoke.

The wind is strong today. Noatak's hair, without its usual gel, dances around his face, giving his gaze extra intensity.

"I woke up this morning and made dinner plans," he says to her.

She wipes strands of her ponytail out of her mouth, and they whip right back into her mouth again. "What are you talking about?" she asks, battling the wind.

"I spoke last night of how difficult the distance was, but I came to an epiphany about my feelings for you." He moves up to her and grabs her hands. "I don't care how hard we have to fight to be together, Korra: I need you. We've made it work against all odds, and we'll keep finding ways to make it work." He smiles. "And by planning your trip around the world, you just proved me right without even realizing it."

Though she's still confused, she has a suspicion about where this is going. Her pulse begins to race.

"I'm not accustomed to playing it by ear, Korra," he continues. "I'm a man of strategy. I take calculated risks. You are the first person - the first anything - in a very long time to make me want to leave everything up to chance if it meant we could be together. That was my epiphany, and right after I had it, I phoned to reserve the rooftop at a restaurant where we once dined under the stars, where the city was ours. I meant to say all this to you there."

He sinks to both knees. "But I'm not a patient man, Korra, not when it comes to you. This is me getting carried away. This is me allowing my heart to lead my head. There is no calculation here, only chance."

Her world is tilting, she's going to fall backwards, her mind is soaring.

"Korra," he says, his voice strong and clear even over the wind, "will you marry me?"

"Yes," she blurts, and she drops to her knees to look him in the eye. "Yes."

He pulls a box out of his pocket and opens it. The pendant is almost the same size as the glass one she wears now, the stone so intricately carved that the leaves of the flowers have veins. Her jaw quivers.

"You're so talented," she rasps.

He lifts the pendant and fastens it around her neck, and it settles atop the glass one with a soft clink. "A more permanent promise." He cups her cheek. "You are worth all the risks I have taken, Korra, and every one I will ever take."

If she tries to speak, she'll start to sob, so instead she grips his chin and pulls him in for a kiss.