Wow! Thank you so much for your guys' comments and reviews! I really, really appreciate them. I'm eating them up like candy over here. Thank you so much. This chapter was a fun one to write, I think it's my favorite one so far. I'd be super happy for any more feedback! Enjoy.
There is something deeply intimate about two beings sleeping together without physical intimacy. There is an unspoken trust, a shared need for warmth and security, that permeates the consciousness, deepens a connection, whether the two wish it to be deepened or not.
For the second time in four days, Korra awoke in Amon's arms. At first, it took her a few moments to remember where she was. She could hear his deep, steady breathing behind her, moving the hair on the back of her neck. Something fluttered in her stomach, foreign and strangely pleasant. Korra shifted in his embrace, turning so that she could face him.
One of his arms was curled beneath her head, cushioning her from the hard ground. The other was draped around her waist, a warm, almost comforting weight. She could see his eyes through the mask. They were closed, peaceful. His hood had slipped off during the night, and his hair hung in dark, shaggy locks around his face. With a hesitant hand, Korra lifted her fingers to his hair, smoothing them along the dark strands. She pushed them back from the cool ivory mask, her fingertips skimming along the leather strap that held the disguise in place. She paused. His breaths did not change. They remained even, unaware. Curiosity peaked inside her. Careful to make no sound, she let her hand travel around to the back of his head, finding the knot where the two leather straps joined. Her fingers flailed for a moment, searching for a give in the tie. Then, without warning, his hand shot up, the fingers tightening around her wrist. Korra let out a tiny yelp of surprise.
His gold eyes bored into her, wide and demanding. Korra swallowed. She lay there, frozen, for a stiff moment. She could feel her pulse drumming against his palm. She knew he could feel her fear, thundering in her veins. She tried to pull back, but he held her fast. For a moment, the two enemies stared at each other, still as statues. Then Korra found something in his golden gaze. Something… vulnerable.
She curled her fingers around his, squeezing them once. Her heart still thudded in her chest, but her confidence slowly returned. Her blue eyes beseeched his, searching for purchase.
"May I?" she whispered. His eyes held hers for a tense moment. Then, slow as melting ice, he released her wrist. Korra slid her hand back to the knot at the base of his skull, working at the leather straps. She felt them give, and she placed her other hand against the cool porcelain of his mask. She lifted her eyes to his once more. They were shut. Clenched.
With a slow, tender hand, Korra slid the mask off his face. A breath caught in her throat.
He was not deformed. Not burned. His face was smooth. The high, proud cheekbones were tanned from the sun, the complexion almost as dark as her mocha tone. He had a strong nose, and a firm jaw. Korra lifted her hand to trace his features, the pads of her fingers skating over his full lips, moving up to stop on the ridge of his cheekbone. She frowned. A thin, silver scar marred his even complexion, running from the outer edge of his jaw, up across the bridge of his nose to stop at his cheek. He reached up, catching her hand in his larger one, stilling her movements.
"Your scar," she whispered. "It's real."
He said nothing. Just opened his eyes, the deep amber depths staring into hers.
"It's not from a firebender," Korra murmured.
He slowly shook his head, not releasing her hand. For a long, still moment neither of them spoke. The only sound in the cave was the soft rhythm of their breathing. Korra closed her fingers around his, absentmindedly intertwining her fingers with his own.
"My father gave me this scar," he whispered. All menace in his voice was gone. It was deep, soft, and strangely rough. Korra tightened her fingers in his, and he held them, almost like a lifeline.
"I was thirteen. He'd taken my brother and me out for a bending lesson. He wanted to teach us something new. He made us wait until the full moon. Then he took us out, to the outskirts of our little Water Tribe village. This time… I knew it was different. My father had honed our skills so that we no longer needed to strength of the full moon to bloodbend."
Korra felt a gasp shudder through her when he said the word. But he continued, his voice growing rougher, as if recounting his story was a driving need. "I knew what he was going to do. I don't know how, but I knew. I remembered the words he'd said to me the night before. He'd told me that I was stronger than my brother, that all his dreams, his plans, rested on my shoulders now. I was his tool for revenge. It was all up to me. Somehow, I knew then that he'd taken my brother out of the picture."
Slowly, he unwrapped his thumb from her fingers and slid it down the soft skin of her wrist. A shiver ran through her, but she did not pull her hand away. He traced the vein where her pulse raced, his eyes shadowed with hidden thoughts.
"You are the first one to see this face in eighteen years," he whispered.
Korra tightened her fingers around his. "It's all right," she murmured, matching her voice to his. "I'm not known for spreading secrets."
Amon took a slow, steadying breath. His thumb trailed down her forearm, leaving a path of fire in its wake. "My father is the one who taught me to take people's bending," he whispered.
Korra stiffened. But she said nothing. She simply lay there, waiting for him to continue.
"My father had made us bloodbend each other before. But this time it was different. I had my brother in my grip, powerless, swallowing my conscience. And my father asked me to do the unthinkable. He told me to take my brother's bending." Amon closed his eyes, reliving the nightmare in his memory. "It was me or him, he said. I was the strong one. I had the power. I already knew how to do it. I had the gift, the talent. I was his tool." The shuddering breath came again. When Amon opened his eyes once more, they were burning with gold fire. "I refused."
"And he gave you the scar," Korra whispered.
Amon nodded. "It was an ice blade, too fast for me to see. It opened my face up before I could react. All I remember was my brother screaming, running to me. My father was laughing. Laughing." His voice faltered. This was a side to him Korra had never seen before. It wasn't weakness. It was a softer, vulnerable side to her enemy that left her with an odd feeling of tenderness in her chest. Korra lifted her hand, laying it flat against his cheek. He leaned into the touch, his eyes falling closed.
"I swore to him I'd never bloodbend again. But I've broken that promise. Again and again. Every time I take another's bending… I become exactly the monster he envisioned when he begot me. No matter how many miles I put between us, how many years pass, I can't get away from him. He's always there, haunting my steps. A ghost I can't shake. He's inside me even now. I've become the one thing I've been fighting against my whole life."
"That's why you fight against benders? Because of who your father was?"
"It's not only him. Bending is a cancer. It spreads through civilization like a wildfire, hurting everyone in its path. Every war through all of history, was it ever started by a nonbender? Wasn't it always benders, fighting, warring, harming nonbenders in their quest for power?"
"You can't blame human nature on benders. People have darkness inside them. It's always been that way. Bending is just a tool. Like a sword, a weapon."
"What danger is a murderer without a sword in his hand?"
"Amon, you can't cleanse the world." Korra leaned closer, feeling his pulse pick up through their contact at her wrist. "No one human being—not even the Avatar—was ever designed to take on a burden that enormous."
His hand tightened around her wrist, and he pulled her closer, so that their noses were almost touching. Korra gasped, but couldn't bring herself to pull away. It was the closest she'd ever been to him before. She could feel his breath, warm and stirring, over her face. She breathed in his scent, and her head went light. It was cool, masculine; a mix of metal, musk and something she couldn't place. Heat stirred in her chest.
" Isn't that what you're trying to do, Korra?" A burst of sensations exploded within her at the sound of her name on his lips. It was the first time he'd ever used it. His voice was deeper than normal, and had a strange huskiness to it. "Saving the world, one bender, one nonbender, one enemy, at a time?"
"I don't know," she whispered. "I'm just trying to do the right thing."
"So am I," he whispered.
Then, before she could react, he pulled her impossibly closer. Her eyes fell closed as his lips found hers. They were soft, and surprisingly gentle. Korra shoved her mind into the background and returned the kiss, hesitant and slow. At her reciprocation, he kissed her back with more passion than she could've imagined possible. His lips forced hers open, and his tongue slid over the ridges of her teeth. Korra gasped, a sudden fire igniting within her. She wound her fingers into his hair, pulling his head down and tipping her head back to deepen the kiss. She felt his arms trail down her waist, curling around the small of her back, pressing her into him. Her heart threatened to pound its way out of her chest. Finally, after the heat had taken over nearly her whole body, she broke the kiss.
His golden eyes were as wide as hers. She could hear—and feel—his breath, ragged and harsh. His racing pulse matched hers. For a stiff moment, neither one spoke. They just looked at each other, each loving and hating what they found in the other's eyes. Finally, Korra broke the silence, her voice a rasp that startled even her.
"What are we doing?" she whispered.
She felt his arms coil around her waist, pressing her close. Her arm, trapped between them, moved to twist her fingers into his tunic. Her heart beat like a trapped butterfly-sparrow.
"I don't know," he whispered, his voice low and breathy… hungry.
She didn't resist when he took her mouth a second time. He hand fisted in his tunic, digging beneath the half-buttoned collar to his chest. She spread her palm flat against his collarbone, traveling downward and across his chest. A low rumble sounded in his throat, and he suddenly gripped her waist and rolled her over, pinning her beneath him. Korra let her hands wind around his neck, feeling the strength there, the power in his coiled muscles. She slid her fingers through his hair. His tongue met hers, harsh and demanding, sliding along the roof of her mouth. His breath was hot inside her. She felt something deep within her reacting to the passion of his kiss, trembling and hot. Finally, it was he who broke it. When he pulled back, they were both shaking.
He crouched over her, his fists clenched on either side of her head, staring down into her eyes. Korra's heart pounded. What on earth had they just done? She'd just kissed her greatest enemy, the man who'd promised to be her doom. Her lips still tingled, every heartbeat sending a fire coursing through her.
Amon rolled off of her, and instantly her body missed his warm weight. He settled onto the ground beside her, close enough for her to feel his heat, but far enough away to remain chaste. She could hear his breaths, ragged and harsh in the silence.
"I'm sorry," he rasped. "I don't know what came over me. I shouldn't have done that."
"I should be saying sorry," Korra whispered. "I kissed you back."
For a long, tense moment, the two of them lay there, staring up at the ice-capped stalactites on the ceiling. Then he sat up, moving to the fire. He didn't bother to pick up his mask from where it lay on the ground, face down on his hood.
"I'm going hunting," he said, his voice clipped and cool, nothing like the husky baritone he'd used with her earlier. "If you feel the need to argue, I'm more than willing to block your chi and render you unconscious. I'm not in the mood to go traipsing after you in the snow again."
Korra swallowed. "I won't be going anywhere. No need to worry."
He grunted in response. Stooping to collect the small hunting knife from the fold of robes on the ground, he turned and left the cave. Korra listened to the crunch of his boots in the snow, fading away. When she was sure he was gone, she curled onto her side, hissing at herself. What had she been thinking? She was a fool. Her impulsiveness would be the death of her one day. Yes, he'd kissed her first, but she'd poured into him a passion she'd never given anyone before, not even Mako. She shivered at the memory of his lips on hers, the feel of his powerful arms closed around her. She shook the thoughts aside. She wouldn't let him be her undoing. Not this way. Not in any way.
A low groan formed on her lips when she realized he'd already begun to take her apart, piece by piece. As much as she tried to summon the hate and fear she'd always felt toward him, all she could muster now was a sense of deep empathy. He hadn't been playing her. The pain, the vulnerability in his golden eyes had been glaringly real. There was no way that had been a farce. The fierce, unbridled passion in the way that he'd kissed her. Korra shivered again, a painful realization dawning on her.
Yes, Amon was going to be her doom. But most certainly not in the way either of them had intended.