Song 1 - Us - Regina Spektor

Asami was aware of her mistake moments before waking fully. She vaguely recalled a promise she'd broken with the best of intentions. Eye's closed, her brain switched on; cylinder by cylinder, pistons spurring gently as she made the connection to what exactly had gone wrong. It didn't marry with just how right she felt, reclined on a couch with her girlfriend between her legs. The weight of her sleeping head perfectly balanced over her sternum.

As she pondered her woven fingers shifted in Korra's hair; tracing the tendons at the nape of her neck, spongey under her delicate touch. She found it difficult to weigh the potential consequences when the act was so exquisite. For all Korra's sharp and renitent edges, it warmed the cockles of her recently defrosted heart that only Asami knew of the soft secret places.

Half her mind was recalling the dream she'd been having. It was cold, she remembered, and despite the evening she'd had she was quite fond of the feeling. Being cold meant Korra would come to warm her soon; in this scenario doubly so. Balanced on blades over thin ice, she'd dreamt of Korra leading her through the motions, skimming the surface, ignoring the cracks as they formed; gliding. They had a wobbly start but soon they were skating smoothly, hand in hand. Something prompted the Korra she dreamed to show-boat, rounding on her, leading her backwards without breaking her stride. Grin wide and unyielding.

All this she could recall; yet her brain couldn't conjure what was amiss.

In the meantime she tucked icy toes under Korra's calf and dutifully, while still unconscious, Korra manoeuvred her legs to squeeze them warm. Her upper body readjusted around her, huffing a slow, long, relaxed breath as her arms, no doubt numb beneath Asami's spine, flexed and shifted. Asami could only smile at that, and surmise the best course of action was simply to fall back to sleep.

Until a waft of fragrant steam passed over her face.

Their tea had gone cold and forgotten, hours ago, there was no doubt.

Asami's brain calculated the scenario with all the computing power she could muster. It punched out a simple answer with an almighty kerplunk.

We are no longer alone.

She flinched and shifted. Kicking up incrementally, her socks skimming helplessly on the fabric of the couch failing to find purchase. She yanked her eyes open, heavy lidded and sleep dusted. Nerves swathing over her in an uncomfortable hot flash, caught by the woman watching them from the armchair opposite. The only saving grace of the moment was that Korra didn't seem to notice; content to burrow and twist into her body for warmth and comfort, blissfully unaware. The one thought Asami could manage to string together was how her girlfriend needed that bliss.

Senna gazed at her daughter in Asami's arms, visage oddly calm as she cradled her tea between both hands.

"Senna, G'Morning," Asami tried her best at a greeting, alas her lips were faring no better than her eyes. In the awkward silence that followed, she saw the bedsheet that had been draped over fairy lights now neatly folded on the arm of Senna's chair. The lights themselves however were still up, still shining. The cassette player sat idle on the coffee table between them. Having spat the tape aloft at the end of the mix for all the world to see its spine; Asami written in heart parenthesis. If Asami could she would have kicked herself. However exposed they now were nothing was more telling than that tape. Korra's secrets were hers now, and she wanted to keep them well.

"Good morning," Senna smiled at her, an expression that did not reach her eyes. Instead a melancholy stared out at her that Asami had seen far too often. She tugged on her teabag, lifting and dipping it without any real force. It served as nothing more than something to do with her hands.

"I'm sorry we didn't mean to-"

"It's alright, don't get up,"

Korra didn't seem to stir even as voices, however soft, began to disturb the air.

Asami sensed that now was a time when ordinarily Senna would have reached across and smoothed Korra's hair over her ear as she had in the past, yet something stopped her. Perhaps Asami's hands were in the way, but with the loaded silence, it seemed more to do with what Senna was building up to say.

"Korra was born prematurely, in other words…she was born fighting." She began, bizarrely, and Asami had to steel her pounding heart to listen. "Her first day on this earth her little hands were curled into fists just clinging on to what she wanted and - I don't believe she ever stopped. Her strength always demanded challenge. There were so many in those early years - yet every time, she balled up those fists and got to work."

Asami watched a smile tug at Senna's lips despite herself.

"Somewhere along the line we moved to the city and she met you,"

The clatter of teaspoon scraping against china was jarring then, for Korra's sake Asami tried her best not to flinch. She scritched at Korra's scalp absently and felt her arms tighten about her waist in response. She couldn't tell if she had awoken, but she couldn't bring herself to tear her gaze away from Senna.

Senna bounced her eyes and stilled her hands.

"When she had her accident it was the answer to all my fears. Her luck had run out and I was powerless in the face of it. When I walked into that room and her hands were flat on that bed and I started to grieve. Somehow… your friendship was a major part of getting her through, and I was so shocked to find that it wasn't about fighting at all. She was following you like it was the only thing she knew how to do."

Asami tried to stay present, but in the moment she heard the shrill sharp bells of her telephone, and the nurse on the other end telling her her friend had just woken up from a coma.

Asami came running through that ward door, finding Korra's face more bandaged and battered than she had ever seen after ten years of competitive fighting. Korra couldn't remember her own name, but the accident made no difference to the one person she wanted above all others.

"Competing the pair of you had that same wild intensity, but when tested you became tempered and enviable." Senna let something slip on that last word. Voice audibly shaken.

Asami recalled the reluctance in Senna's aura as she lingered on Korra's doorway for the final time. Her old apartment, a veritable shoebox stuffed with Korra's friends way back when. Mako and Bolin stressing over assembling a bed in an open plan living room. Korra limping from counter to counter making teas in an attempt to look useful and functioning; a facade in competence her mother saw right through at the time.

Even Asami had to admit how young they all were, shouldering a burden too big to really grasp between the three of them. Still, whatever fight Korra had left was aimed at digging in her heels and re-starting her life here. For the months since she'd been conscious it had been a point of contention for her parents, and Asami had mediated on behalf of Korra's best interest. Korra needed to heal, to grow, and she'd insisted she needed to do it alone. No one could deny her what she wanted after what happened. Asami herself respected her wishes to the point where she never questioned how absurd it was to stay in the city without her family.

"I won't let anything else happen to her." Asami had assured her under her breath, pressing the older woman's arm, "I promise,"

Senna had reached for her without looking away from her daughter, and in the moment clasped her hand that Asami caught. Squeezing back, deal struck.

"At every turn you bolstered her best qualities; calmed her, focussed her. I didn't understand it but I respected that you gave her peace with just your presence…When I heard you were engaged the first thought I had was what would my daughter be losing? Would the man you'd chosen replace that fierce connection in your lives?"

Why should she stay in a place she never really considered home? Why did Senna let her?

The answer whispered itself in the silence.

Korra stayed in Republic City for me.

Senna looked up at the twinkling lights, fighting the sting of tears. "Where we come from - two women - it's the last thing we think of even when they hold hands." Her eyes fell to Asami's now, with all the light and warmth she'd captured from above, "It should have been clear that it was you,"

It took too long for Asami to realise this was an apology, before Senna clasped her hand on Korra's hair.

"I see her now balling her fists, ready to fight the world," Senna stood up, stepping back, taking the cups from the coffee table and turning slightly, "I hope you realise how important that makes you."

"I do," Asami whispered helplessly, combing Korra's hair to rights over her ear.

Blue eyes flickered when a tear fell upon her cheek. Korra let out a soft wakeful sigh, shoulders twitching, telling Asami that for once she'd been relaxed enough to partake in genuine sleep.

Frowning and pouting, turning her face into Asami's stomach the world returned to her.

"What?" she breathed, faced turned up now, spying tears in streaks over Asami's cheeks. "What happened?"

"Your mom," Asami sniffled.

Korra reared back, discombobulated yet stirred enough to begin formulating a fallout plan.

"What did she say?"

"She knows,"

"So does everybody I don't-?"

"No Korra - She sees us," Asami braced her hands beneath her jaw, holding her steady as she swayed, using the momentum to tug her cheek to the path of her lips.

"I don't understand," Korra murmured, burying her face into her neck, "my arms are so numb,"

Asami let out a guffaw that was unbecoming of an heiress, yet Korra found it enchanting as she held on. Asami's mirth was infectious if a little confusing, and her embrace, while lopsided, was tight and reassuring. Swaying her gently from side to side.

Korra had an inkling of what she meant, yet the controlling stake of her personality hadn't the capacity for positive possibilities when it came to this.

"The lights," she lamented, "You promised we'd take them down before bed,"

"We haven't gone to bed yet," Asami chided gently, smoothing down the tangles at the base of Korra's head.

"There's still time," Korra responded, peeling away, guiding her to her feet fingers interlocking. Gliding backwards, braving a sly hopeful smile.

When Korra woke the second time her face was planted in her hoodie once again, that Asami had been wearing, loose and folded for her sloth-like tendencies could cling to. They'd migrated to Korra's bed to catch a few more hours of sleep. When Korra woke, she was surprised to find she was alone, even more so the scent of her favourite meal floating from downstairs.

She sat on her bed for a good five minutes, wondering if this was the part of dying wherein her life flashed before her eyes. Only the stillness persuaded her otherwise. That and Asami's blouse soaked and drying on the radiator at the foot of her bed. Korra blinked at it, one eye at a time, waking mind struggling the recall how such fine silk made its way in from the impossible cold.

A clang rang out from the kitchen below, as did Asami's subsequent culinary cursing.

"Shi-shoot," She censored herself, "bother," Senna was close.

Korra felt a surge of intangible pride knowing Asami was down there, braving her mother alone, doing her best to impress her. Although, cooking was an odd choice of card to play for someone who had taken twenty-five years to master pancakes. She took quiet tentative steps, it had been an age since she'd followed this path, expecting family making magic in the kitchen. It felt too good to be true to be she stood upon that threshold. Katara stirring a pot upon the stove with an appraising smirk, as Asami scrambled to replace the waterfall of pots she'd knocked loose from a cupboard.

"Honestly, Asami it's fine," Senna assured her before sensing a familiar gaze, catching Korra's over her shoulder as she worked. Korra studied her expression over her shoulder, trying to glean how she felt. "Look who's awake,"

Asami stood to her full height a little too fast, it had her on a teeter. She had her own clothes on now, comfy sweater and jeans, comfortable and casual with a hint of makeup. Korra wondered for perhaps a moment if she should miss seeing her mussed and clean faced, private just for her, but she knew then she could get her both ways and all those between.

"Korra, hey," she seemed just as relieved to see her, as Korra was herself. Scooping her already tied up hair behind her ears, blushing hotly. Seeing her so flustered would ordinarily be a bad sign, but she was smiling, however shy. Korra's heart and mind skipped as she crossed the room and clumsily kissed her cheek, accidentally-on-purpose pressing her lips to the corner of her mouth.

Korra stiffened. A cacophony of a thousand ingrained fears turning her veins to stone at the bold move. There was nothing wrong with it, intellectually she knew that, and there seemed to be no reaction from the others in the room. Her breath however froze, trapped in her chest.

"How'd you sleep?" Asami asked, hand warming her wrist through the flash freezing she'd undergone, her thumb painting arcs over the down raised there. A rush of doubt crossed her girlfriend's face, and Korra melted.

"Fine," Korra whispered, "but it got lonely after you left," languishing the spark that came with Asami's eyebrows raising at shameless flirting. "You found your clothes in all that snow?"

Asami cleared her throat, stepping back, thumb absently smearing the lipstick kiss still on her cheek.

"Your father found them in an ice block on the porch."

"Dad's home?"

"He's been in his study all morning." There was something in the downturn of Asami's lips that told Korra he hadn't been to speak with them in the same way Senna had. The implication sat heavy in the air. Korra's sexuality had always loomed above her, insurmountable. A peak she'd never been able to see the top of, nor imagine what conquering it even looked like. Now she realised with Asami beside her; it didn't matter, because of the hand in hers; guiding each other over the rocky terrain.

"What's left to do here?" even with that in mind it was hard to keep the shake from her voice.

"Nothing," Asami huffed, "Stir stew and serve," she grinned, turning back into the kitchen where her teachers looked on appraisingly. "Sea prune stew your favourite,"

"You're forgetting a crucial part," Senna chided, sealing the bubbling brew under a lid. "Washing up," she began ushering Katara from the kitchen with promises of tea and introspection to the living room.

Korra sighed and resigned herself to scrubbing the nearest pan. When she was done with one, she set it aside, promptly picked up by Asami to dry. Asami caught the second, fingers overlapping.

"You cooked you shouldn't-"

"I want to," Asami side stepped closer, "I'm sorry if I crossed a line earlier, I just I was overwhelmed seeing you and looking so-"

"You didn't," Korra assured, "We're out in the open now, one of the benefits being we can be open."

"Still, I'm here to support you, not-"

"You're doing that already," Korra threw her eyes around the room to punctuate her point. "The stew, my mom, already? What - did you bribe her?"

"Your mom came to me with her own conclusions," Asami shook her head, "She'd obviously been thinking on them for a while,"

"And?"

"I think she's coming around,"

"How?" Korra's question fell out of her, a relieved disbelieving gasp.

"Maybe…She saw me holding you, and you holding on to me, maybe that was all it took,"

"What do we do about my dad? You think he saw us too?"

Asami chewed her lip, moved to her core that Korra was not only attempting this, but including her in the conversation. They were partners in this, and it was everything she'd always wanted. That and the flicker of hope burning in Korra's eyes. She was desperate to fan those flames.

"Do you think bribery would work on him? I'll do it,"

"Politicians don't accept bribes only donations." Korra chagrinned with a splash. "He's old school, honour code etcetera,"

"Ah so you're saying I should fight him for your hand,"

"You think you're ready to take on the North Bear after almost freezing to death?"

"If anything that should show how serious I am; that I would run into any storm to find you," Asami's flippant tirade became earnest at the end. "I had to know you were okay after everything in the papers,"

"What did happen in that cab?" Korra questioned softly, turning to watch her lips purse and cheeks flush.

"It was nothing really, the driver was just being an ass,"

"So you didn't even finish the trip? Without your case?"

Asami fell into silence.

"Tell me," Korra pressed, voice still gentle.

"He mentioned there was drama in the mayoral household, offhandedly… that the mayor had a fag daughter,"

The notion that Asami had been assaulted with this kind of hate hurt Korra's chest. She had a worry that enough hatred hurled her way would eventually wear her down to the point that loving Korra was no longer worth it.

"What did you say?"

"I might have torn into him," she had the grace to grimace a little, but in truth held no remorse for her tirade gifted to a stupid old man.

"Asami-"

"I said that I was marrying the Mayors Fag Daughter, that we'd have a big turkey-baster gay wedding at the Glacier Spirits Festival and amazing sex for the rest of our lives." Asami spoke so quickly it was difficult to follow, both apologetic and desperate to make the wounded expression on Korra's face go away, "I might have laid it on thick just to get a reaction and I think I broke him and I didn't want to stay in his lousy cab anyway so I walked, I mean how far could two miles be right?" The expression had faded into something more neutral. "Oh God, did I just make this a thousand times worse?"

"No," Korra's lips finally broke out into that perfect half-grin, "Glacier Spirits Festival huh? Should I make a note?" she teased.

"Korra," Asami squirmed and blushed.

Korra snickered, and let her head fall sideways, braced on Asami's shoulder.

"What are you so happy about?" Asami accused, catching her still smiling in the window's reflection, reaching to take the next plate from Korra's hand in the sink.

"I get to keep you,"

In the moments after the dish fell away, and their fingers became entangled secretly under the suds.

"You met with Iroh?" Korra pressed her thumb over Asami's gently, soothing the knuckles broaching the subject gentle and calm. Asami had to take a moment to feel just how safe that feeling was.

"He would only speak to me after they caught him."

"Are you okay?" not what happened? Not what were you thinking?

"I don't know," Asami laughed, "He was cruel and then he was calm and god I didn't realise how much I didn't know him…or myself." she had to stop herself from apologising for the thousandth time, they were beyond that, "I told him everything…I even corrected the papers he had…he'd read my mothers diary and pieced together our history. I threatened him. I served him divorce papers,"

"You threatened him?"

"He aimed a gun at you." Asami reminded. "and when I emerged I realised the real reason you came here, alone, to do the hardest thing-"

"I'm sorry I-,"

"Don't be, Korra I'm so proud of you," Asami cupped her cheek.

Korra's expression crumbled as she wrestled with overwhelming emotion. It was as though the coil binding her chest all these years had been cut away with those few words.

"I'm so glad you're here," she spoke the words cheek pressed into Asami's shoulder, arms braced secure about her ribs. Left hand dripping into cashmere, Asami's right smearing suds on the back of her t-shirt.

"You should go wash up, get dressed," Asami whispered after a time, "lunch will be ready soon,"

Korra peeled away, swiping at watery eyes feeling very much that she was wandering around an elaborate, exquisite dream half dreamt. She tried not to think about what it would take to wake her up.

Asami lingered before Tonraq's closed door. Her request was a simple one - come downstairs for lunch, but at that moment she pondered using it as a veil to enquire how he felt about his daughter. If what he had to say could wound her, if it would leave scars.

She couldn't help it, she felt responsible. If things were different they could have handled it years ago, if things were different, they'd only be discussing her sexuality, not the ethics of having an affair with your long time best friend.

She put her hand on the cool wood, before rapping softly three times.

"Come in,"

She pushed the door, braving a step into the Mayor's sanctuary.

"To what do I owe?" Tonraq enquired without looking up from his notes. Asami noted he omitted the pleasure.

"Lunch is almost ready, sea prune stew,"

Tonraq didn't comment right away. Turning a page, mulling.

"Korra's favourite,"

"And yours," Asami said.

"She's always had good taste," Tonraq's tone was unreadable as he closed his notebook with an air of finality and turned to face her.

Now was the time, Asami knew, but her eyes caught the arced pages of a book fluttering slightly, spine open on the radiator beneath the window.

"Mom's diary," she whispered.

"Should be dry now," Tonraq scooted on his chair to pluck it up, and scooted back to present it to her. "Your case fell apart and this was soaked, I didn't know it was Yasuko's,"

"Why would you?" Asami muttered, a little lost, holding the cover to her chest.

"What would she think of all of this?" it wasn't accusatory, or an insult, it simply caught her off guard.

"She loved Korra, she liked her for me," she could sense Tonraq watching her, but instead of giving back, she opened the book and started absently flipping through, "she knew what we were to each other even all those years ago…before I did,"

She didn't know what she was looking for until she found it, and wasted no time in turning the book so Tonraq could read.

"First paragraph." she directed.

…It can't be denied, Asami fawns over Korra like no other…I hope for the sake of her father I'm wrong, but I would say that this is my little girl's first crush.

"My marriage was a mistake, Tonraq, but the affair wasn't," Asami told him, chin and shoulders square. "You can't be mad at her for this. She's been so afraid of losing you both." she twisted her fingers anxiously, "She always has, and I can't be the reason-" her throat closed up now, her own fear rising to the fore. One way or the other, she'd lost her parents, a hurt she wished on no-one, not even her worst enemy.

This wasn't going how she'd hoped, she was no clearer on how Tonraq felt now than before. Asami twisted her fingers, anxiety riling, she was a CEO, a titan of industry. Although in front of her friend's father she felt as small as when she first met him, a twelve year old, "don't be mad at Korra," apparently she argued like one too. "Lunch is in five," Book to breast she turned on her heel and made her retreat downstairs.

Korra was setting the table when she saw her, hair still wet but dry enough not to drip. When Asami saw her smile she knew it was forced. Strained under the weight of a ticking clock. She knew from the shake in her hands setting silverware that she was scared. She knew how grateful she was she was here in the way she turned her cheek into her palm as Asami cradled her ear.

"Yasuko's diary?" Asami could only nod in response, placing it on a shelf of knick snacks nearby with nowhere else to put it. "She made it all this way," despite it all there was a smile in her honeyed voice.

Asami couldn't help but follow the sound and press her lips to Korra's temple while she could. Heavy footsteps had her retreating, she hated that Korra's face was marred by the sting of understanding. She was trying to be tactful, but she was balancing on a tight rope, and ambiguity surrounding Korra's parents had her guessing the direction she was facing.

Seated at the table she claimed her hand beneath the surface. This she could do, support her, and it was simple as holding on.

Tonraq claimed his chair opposite with a scrape, Senna beside him, Katara was already ladling stew into bowls from the head of the table.

It occurred to Korra that it might be a while before they all had an opportunity to be trapped like this, playing nice in their little snow globe, pretending nothing was wrong one last time before the next big shake. She could feel the tense static that had been her background music swelling in volume, bursting at the seams. She was sure with any of the resounding clinks and slurps the balloon would pop and create a sonic boom. It was a bomb she'd always dreaded, and it had never been closer. With every visit and phone call she carried its weight in her soul. She felt it now beneath her sternum, with every squeeze of Asami's fingers it felt lighter by a breath.

For now she could pretend a little while longer, give everyone a chance to digest a little more.

"Asami met Kya," Korra blurted spoon aloft, trying to cover the ticking with the sound of her own voice and just anyone else's.

"My Kya?"

"Mmhmm," Korra nodded, chewing down on a delicious prune, gifted with the tang of something new, something Asami had added, and her mother had let her.

"You know her?" Asami asked.

"She's my daughter," Katara said, "what were you doing on Ember Island?"

"Ah," Korra balked at her mistake. On second thought it wasn't the best segue.

"I was…I was on my honeymoon, with Iroh, before…" Asami's hand was now a vice interlocked with hers, instantly the air changed, tension imbuing them like a gas leak.

"Before you cheated on him," Tonraq finished.

Before Korra could defend her partner, Asami piped up.

"I told you the affair wasn't a mistake, it fixed the mistake,"

"Asami-"

"No you have questions, ask them, now is the time." Asami had thrown down her gauntlet. Tonraq gazed at her, neutral and studious, before parting his lips to pick it up.

"How long has this been going on?" Tonraq's voice was even, his eyes sharp and astute. Asami wavered, not because she didn't know the truth, but from an outside perspective the truth was difficult to believe.

"I've always loved her dad,"

"And you? A man one minute, Korra the next?"

"I didn't know how I felt, I didn't know that she…" Asami lost her place, she felt so foolish, she wanted to defend Korra, throwing her body in front of a bullet was so much easier than this. Until a thumb under the table brushed against her knuckle and suddenly she was centred.

"I'd always been the dutiful daughter; I followed the rules and the future handed down by my father, you know what kind of a man he was - and it killed me inside…getting married, seeing that old house, fixing it up, it opened me up to everything I'd been avoiding, my feelings for her, my past and it made me take a closer look at how Korra was acting around me. How she kept her secrets. How she treated me. How she held back even when we were fighting."

Asami found herself gazing into the empty space remembering, letting those recollections warm her and guide her through.

"How did you react when you found out how she felt about you?" Tonraq pressed, studying her.

Asami's searing jade eyes snapped to his. The pain she'd been swimming in draining just enough so she could soften at the memory.

"I kissed her."

Tonraq laced his fingers together, elbows balanced on the arms of his chair and leaned back. Stoic.

"That was about a month ago," Korra spoke, loud enough to be heard, quiet enough so she didn't provoke him.

"You think you're stable after a month?"

"We are," Korra squeezed Asami's fingers under the table, their new rings digging into the fleshy parts between digits, "We didn't want you to find out this way. We're barely starting, but this is real,"

"What if she leaves you out in the cold?"

"If she's out alone in the cold, it wouldn't be because I left her there," Asami surmised, unable to reel herself in after his jab. "She should be able to be herself without me, and feel loved and safe but it's this place," Korra looked back at her, in awe of her as Asami swiped tears from her cheek with her wrist, words tumbling easily from her scarlet lips. "All this time she's been out there alone, holding her breath, waiting for someone to accept her - and we missed it."

In those last words, she let loose all the guilt and anger she'd held, at herself just as much as Korra's parents.

"How could you keep this from us?" he asked, tone just as solemn.

"How could I not?" Asami could tell she was struggling to speak now, and did her best to return the gesture she had given her moments ago. Thumb tracing every dip between her knuckles, pressing gently on the spongey tendons between the bones, "The same reason Kya doesn't live here. The same reason who I'm with is town gossip, and front page news. The same reason mom called, and couldn't bring herself to listen to what I had to say."

There was an almost silent sound that came from Senna then, her voice tight an utter aimed into the table cloth, and then again as she rose her chin to look her daughter in the eye.

"I'm sorry…it's just unexpected. All these years you've kept yourself at a distance we would never guess," she gestured to the pair of them, "Until it's all over the papers, and your father and I…we were ambushed,"

"I think I know a little something about ambushes," Korra whispered to no-one in particular.

"You're happy with this path you've chosen?" Tonraq asked, "With all this difficulty and chaos?"

As the room held its breath she took a chance, and manoeuvred their entangled hands on top of the table.

"With respect, Tonraq, the only ones making this difficult for Korra is you,"

"With respect, Asami, what do you know of our culture? Our tribe?"

"That you lead it," Asami pressed. Korra's breath left her in a rush.

"I'm happy dad," Korra took her queue from the wild reckless bravery her girlfriend had just wielded, as sharp as any blade. "Even without her, I'm better off living something true. I see that now. It kept me from here, keeping the secret. It kept me from her. Now that it's out, I want to be clear - I'm a part of this family, this tribe, and nothing can change that. Not even you."

Her father let out a long slow breath through his nose. Bowing forward, elbows prone on the table now, eyes dropping to their entangled fingers on the same surface. His brow furled, and he smoothed his furrows with this thumb and forefinger as his mind raced.

"I've never seen you smile like that." he spoke the words and they were music, his lungs like bellows letting out something he wasn't quite aware he'd locked away. He looked up at his daughter now. "In the paper," he shrugged, "when she held you,"

Korra didn't know whether to be relieved or mortified, instead she stayed mum, hoping helplessly for more while her pounding heart lifted into her throat. She watched his smoothing thumb trace the bridge of his own nose, and Korra had an inkling of just what he'd seen.

"I thought my little girl had lost her dimples," he let out a laugh that shocked himself, bearing down on tears physically by pushing his fingertips over eyes twisted shut. "You've put me in a difficult position." He heaved a breath, "You know where we come from, you know our traditions," he shook his head, eyes averted now, "and how our people are reticent to change beyond them,"

"I'm going to have to disagree," he watched at her now, curious, though Korra had directed her statement to the elder at the head of the table. "Change is tradition dad, it's how they all start,"

Katara's smirk grew as she spoke, and when Korra was finished she was positively beaming.

"Every story started in adversity and ended in a new tradition being born. It's important to understand the value of the changing world. Our story isn't over yet."

"And what a story it is," Katara chimed, her silvery voice resonating through the air with calm and clear finality.

Song 2 - The Queer Gospel - Erin McKeown