Cadence Chapter Six: Hindrance

Korra was going through the beginning steps of her meditation when she felt a dull, familiar ache begin to radiate from her abdomen.

The Avatar froze.

'Shit!'

She was starting her period.

Korra wasted no time; she mentally flicked through the catalogue of healing techniques in her memory, locating the one all healers were taught, the one that could halt menstruation. Katara had taught her this particular technique, feeling it would be essential on political missions when a period, and all it entailed, would be inconvenient. Korra felt this more than qualified. Sure, the actual bleeding could probably be dealt with, the mental image of Mako's face when she asked him for the necessary supplies was almost enough to tempt her into going through with it, but she didn't want even a hint of cramps to interfere with her escape.

Of course, an escape plan was yet to come to her, but she wanted to be ready when it did.

She performed the healing technique; glad it required only a minimum amount of energy and therefore knew it wouldn't leave her with any ill-effects.

Of course, it might be a bit suspicious that she wasn't having her period, because in all honesty, she wouldn't put it past to Amon to have someone monitoring what went into and out of Mako's room, but she suspected the masked man would be more pleased than suspicious. After all, he wanted her pregnant, didn't he?

Korra was unable to hold in a slight grimace. The idea that Amon was waiting for her to become pregnant by Mako was disturbing on so many levels she barely knew where to begin.

In the meantime, she'd keep spitting out the Lieutenant's mixture. She knew that, since she wasn't having sex, it probably wouldn't hurt her to drink the fertility potion, but she didn't trust anything that the Lieutenant made. Drinking something he had brewed felt akin to shoving her hand down a tiger's mouth and then slapping it on the nose.

There were bad ideas, and then there were bad ideas. Willingly swallowing a potion that the Lieutenant had prepared felt like the latter.

"It's me!" came the sudden bark from the other side of the door, and Korra went to open it, rolling her eyes at Mako's brusqueness.

"Did anyone try to get in?" was the first thing out of his mouth when he entered.

"What, no 'hi, how was your day'?" Korra huffed. "Honestly, Mako! You're so focused on your own goals that I don't feel I'm getting what I need out of this relationship."

Her serious, affronted face lasted until the end of sentence, and then Korra dissolved into giggles.

Mako somehow managed to look long-suffering, exasperated and deeply unimpressed all at once.

'Quite a feat for someone whose face seems to be locked on the 'default' setting,' Korra mused, before speaking again. "Oh, come on, Mako, lighten up and have pity on the poor shut-in; I need to get my amusement somewhere!"

"Did anyone try to get in?" he repeated.

"The Lieutenant...I think," Korra admitted. "A while after you left, the doorknob jiggled a bit, like someone tried to open it. I asked who was there, but there was nothing, so I put my eye against the keyhole and saw him walking away. And he said something, it was kinda hard to catch, but it sounded like 'interesting'."

Mako processed the implications of her statement in moments. It appeared his decision to have Korra lock the door had been a good one. Offhandedly, Mako couldn't think of any reason for the Lieutenant to seek him out, which meant that his visit would have had something to do with Korra. Mako could think of many reasons that the Lieutenant could have for intruding on the medic, none of them palatable.

But on the other hand he had just demonstrated to both Amon and the Lieutenant that he was willing to put effort into keeping Korra away from them. If they were in the least suspicious then the Lieutenant would be back.

"You have to stop trying to escape," he ordered. If the Lieutenant would now be keeping a close eye on them, Mako didn't want to think about what he would do to Korra if he caught her trying to escape.

"What?!" Korra yelled. "Why in the flameo should I do that?"

"Just do as I say!" Mako shouted, his eyes narrowing dangerously as he sought to intimidate her into obedience.

"I don't think so," Korra said, her voice lowering in volume but losing none of its ferocity and determination. "I'm not like the simpering, pandering idiots you're used to nowadays; it takes more than that to get me to listen to you! I'd like a reason!"

Mako gritted his teeth. He couldn't admit the real reason; that sounded too much like he cared what happened to her. And if she thought he was at all concerned about her well-being, only because she was in no shape to see to it herself, he couldn't quite picture what would happen, only that it might involve tears and starry eyes. Something stirred inside him, telling him that if it didn't end that way, that it would be more unsettling that if it did.

"This argument is pointless," he ground out.

"Why are you persisting in it, then? Agree with me and I'll shut up."

Mako resisted the urge to curse at her and settled for slamming the bathroom door, growling in anger.

Korra sighed, both amused and infuriated at Mako's sudden switch back to icy, expressionless and demanding. He ran hot and cold like faulty plumbing.

Of course, she wasn't about to listen to his irrational demand. She'd just attempt to escape behind his back.

Some part of her wondered why she was being so snarky with him. She'd given him lip when she was Koda, sure but now it was like she couldn't stop.

Korra shifted beneath the blankets, trying to turn over as silently as possible and somehow avoid jarring the sleeping body next to her. She stared at Mako, moonlight from the window highlighting his form in silver edges, and tried to judge the approximate angle she'd need to perform the nerve pinch to render him unconscious. After his order earlier that day, she'd decided it would be better to knock him out before she attempted to escape.

Korra had reasoned that she didn't need to disguise as any particular Equalist– she just needed to disguise herself as one of the many lackeys, cover her slave collar and walk out. She'd take a set of electrified kali sticks, and tell anyone she encountered that she was taking it to the blacksmith's or something.

But she'd have to make sure Mako wouldn't try to stop her.

Korra carefully eyed the spot on his neck she would aim for. She wasn't stupid; she understood she had only one shot at this. If something went wrong, Mako would undoubtedly wake up and she knew she didn't have a hope of taking him down while he was conscious and coherent.

The blow had to be fast, strong and accurate.

But even as she raised her hand, Korra wondered if this was really necessary. Surely she could just slip out. Did she have to knock him unconscious? Couldn't she escape without hurting him?

Korra gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes tightly shut, telling herself that such a line of thought was stupid. She needed to escape, and if Mako was going to prevent her from escaping, then she had to take him out.

Her hand descended then ground to a halt in mid-air as Mako's own hand rose to close around her wrist. She jerked her gaze to his face to find smoldering, impenetrable eyes gleaming back at her in the moonlight.

Apparently, Mako was awake.

Mako had remained completely still when he woke, sensing eyes upon him. When he heard Korra's breathing – deeper and less regular than that of a sleeping person – he had known who it was. But for several moments, she hadn't moved, and he wondered if she'd simply been unable to sleep.

But then she'd shifted, her once diminished presence had flared so subtly it was almost undetectable and that's when Mako had realised what she was going to do. She was going to try to escape. He'd withdrawn his unspoken assent to her attempts, so she'd simply decided to make those attempts without his knowledge.

For a moment, he'd debated with himself, wondering if he should simply let her go but then he'd felt another presence beginning to encroach upon his senses, one that was all-too familiar.

The Lieutenant.

If Korra tried to walk out the door now she'd run straight into Amon's loyal sidekick. If he caught Korra...

So as her hand descended towards him, Mako seized her wrist to stop her.

He could see her shock written in the widening of her turquoise eyes and her sudden, swift intake of breath. Then, apparently determined to go down fighting, her other hand dove for his neck, and Mako was forced to catch that one, too.

He didn't want to speak aloud in case the Lieutenant overheard him, something told Mako it would be difficult to explain and still maintain that Korra was simply a convenient way of scratching an itch, so he settled for flicking his head towards the door in the hope Korra would understand his silent message.

She didn't, mainly because she was too busy trying to twist her body in order to kick him in the head. Even though he'd already been given ample proof of her determination and strength, it still surprised Mako. It was strange to think that, in his absence, Korra seemed to have grown a spine of pure platinum.

He jerked hard on her arms, pulling her across him and flipping them over at the same time, so it was now he who was on top of her. She managed to bring her leg between them and kicked hard, catching him in the hip and nearly throwing him off her.

Some part of his mind had thought there was something wrong with this fight, and it wasn't until this moment that he realised what it was; Korra was completely silent. She wasn't swearing, snarling, screaming. She hadn't so much as cried out.

She probably didn't want to wake anyone and call attention to her escape attempt. Mako was glad for her caution. If the Lieutenant went as far as listening at the door, all he would hear would be the sound of rustling sheets and harsh breathing, giving exactly the impression he wanted the man to have.

Of course, that did hinge on him being able to subdue Korra. It would have been effortless if he had been fighting an enemy, but Mako somehow couldn't bring himself to use his bending or any of the more painful techniques he'd been taught on her.

Besides, it shouldn't take long for him to wrestle her into stillness.

Korra bit back a savage curse as she arched her back, trying to knee Mako in the groin. Underhanded, yes, but desperate times called for desperate measures. And Korra was desperate. Without her Avatar strength, she was at the mercy of the laws of physics; the laws that said taller, heavier, and stronger won out.

'Damn testosterone!' she thought resentfully. 'An unfair advantage in these situations if ever there was one!'

Her arms had been pinned on either side of her head, pressed into the mattress, their tussle having sent the pillows tumbling to the floor. Mako knocked her attempt to attack his weakest point aside by raising his own leg and preventing her from connecting. In barely the space of a blink, he was straddling her hips, his legs hooking around her own to keep her from kicking him.

She thrashed, uselessly, she knew, but she needed to do something. Adrenaline lending her strength, she wriggled beneath him, trying to bite into one of his wrists and force him to release her hands. But Mako simply dropped his weight forward, resting fully atop her, the side of his face right against her own, her vision clouded by dark strands of hair.

Korra tried to move, but found she couldn't. She was pinned down, held practically immobile by Mako's weight. His legs were locked around her own, leaving her unable to kick him. His hips pressed hers into the mattress, so she couldn't get enough leverage or maneuverability to buck or twist. His chest was practically crushing her torso to the point where it was becoming an effort to breathe, and the presence of his head right beside hers left her blocked and unable to bite the arm she'd been targeting. In fact, the way his chin was digging into her shoulder meant that she couldn't even strain towards her other hand. And his grip on her wrists was so tight she couldn't so much as twist them.

Korra was left staring at the ceiling, panting harshly, every muscle in her body knotted as though sheer will could force her limbs to resist Mako's hold.

But when nothing happened, Korra relaxed beneath him, grudgingly accepting defeat. Mako was heavier than she was strong, at least with the collar around her neck, and in their current position, continued resistance would only serve to exhaust her.

But she couldn't help wriggling in his hold, her body unconsciously trying to relieve the pressure on it. Mako went rigid, but Korra paid him no heed, still shifting as she sought a position that she could breathe comfortably in.

It seemed that Mako had read her mind, because he suddenly lifted himself slightly off her, relieving the crushing weight that was hampering her breathing and putting some space between their bodies.

It wasn't a lot of space, though. Korra realised that Mako's face was now lined up with her own, so close she could feel his breath ghosting against her lips. Hesitantly, she let their eyes lock.

She could almost feel her body become charged. There was a strange light in Mako's eyes that she'd never seen before, and while she had given a non-verbal signal of surrender in their wrestling match he was showing no inclination to move away. His hands were still holding hers captive, his knees were still on either side of her hips, and while he'd relieved most of his weight, his body was still so close to hers she could feel the heat radiating off him like a physical pressure.

Korra tried to ignore the treacherous voice in her head that pointed out she just had to lean her head about a quarter of an inch forward and their lips would meet.

The sound of the door opening broke the tense moment like a glass vase shattering. Mako blinked, and Korra could feel the muscles in his hands jump against her wrist, as though he'd been startled out of something.

Korra cringed as the light from the hallway sliced into the room, and she turned her face away from the door automatically, clenching her eyes closed.

"Oh, forgive me, Mako, I didn't mean to interrupt," the Lieutenant's voice drifted to her ears.

Korra did her best not to wince, thinking of what their positions must look like. Mako had declined to lock the door during the night, apparently confident that no one would barge in while he was with her. It seemed he'd been mistaken.

"Get out!" Mako snarled.

Korra blinked.

There was a barely-detectable quiver in his voice, as though he were straining to hold something back.

The Lieutenant ignored his outburst. "Amon wants to see you."

"Get out!" If possible, Mako sounded even more menacing that time.

And the Lieutenant seemed to listen, because he retreated hastily, shutting the door and allowing darkness to envelope the room once again.

As soon as the door had closed, Mako practically leapt off her like her skin had caught fire. Korra was left alone on the bed, blinking rapidly as her eyes readjusted to the blackness, while the bathroom light came on and, for some odd reason, Mako seemed to be taking a shower.

Korra thought about going through with her plan of escape, but then dismissed it. The window wasn't an option, the guards would be sure to catch her, and since the Lieutenant was probably still stalking the hallways. She'd leave her escape attempt for another day.

So Korra put the pillows back on the bed, straightened the blankets, and climbed back in, determined to at least try to get some sleep. Unlikely, given what had just transpired, a huge shock adrenaline followed by a healthy dose of whatever that had been when Mako pinned her, but the Avatar was nothing if not optimistic.

Mako did not have a cold shower in an effort to cool the arousal that had gripped him when he was atop Korra. On the contrary; he turned the water on as hot as he could without melting the flesh from his bones, feeling every drop sting and burn his back in twisted penance.

He'd almost…

No, not almost. He would never have done it. He hadn't even thought about it, not really...

There had just been a cold, insidious hiss in the back of his mind, whispering in a disturbing replica of Amon's voice. Whispering that he could do it. That Korra stood no chance of fighting him with the collar on. That the general Equalist population assumed he'd been making sexual use of her for days, so no one would pay attention if cries issued from his room.

The soft, slimy voice had pointed out that he could rip those ugly clothes from her body, part those well-toned legs and see if the reality compared to the fantasy.

Whether Korra consented or not.

Mako allowed the heat of the water to raise welts on his back in a kind of self-flagellation for those whispers that had crawled from the darkest corners of his soul.

A part of his mind couldn't help but wonder why he had reacted so strongly to the situation. He'd been forced to pin some woman in that way before, but with Korra it had seemed sexual. Perhaps it had been the darkness that had blanketed them in a false sense of intimacy; perhaps it was the fact that they'd been struggling on his bed...

Mako refused to consider the possibility that perhaps the reason he had reacted so strongly was simply because it had been Korra writhing beneath him, panting for breath, every inch of her body pressed hard against his.

He'd lifted himself off her before she could become aware of his body's response, before she could become aware of the dark and twisted path his mind had taken.

The fire bender gave the hot water tap another twist.

Mako was aware that rape happened in Sound. It happened in Republic City, come to that but in Republic City, there were laws against it, punishments for those that perpetrated it; there were no such things in the Equalist faction. Many female slaves and some male, even some of the weaker followers of Amon, had endured it at some point in time.

And Mako couldn't help wondering why the prospect had never bothered him as much as it did now that Korra was among them. Was he really so blind that such abuse of basic human rights hadn't made an impression on him until he had a face to connect that abuse to? The rape of captives had been a distasteful fact in his mind, never really an injustice to be corrected until he had a hauntingly familiar face to connect to the act.

Many times since he'd staked his claim on Korra, Mako had found himself wondering why he'd done it. Wondering what had driven him to come to her aid, and to continue to try to shield her from Amon's dark intentions.

Why should he care? He would have killed her the last time they'd met...wouldn't he?

Mako wasn't so sure anymore. But when she'd been revealed and Amon had ordered his men to take her, Mako had known what her fate would be. And some part of him couldn't bear the idea of Korra suffering like that.

Now, he looked back at the slaves he'd seen who were beholden to one master, usually for sexual purposes, and wondered why he never thought it so abhorrent.

'I won't venture to speculate what being a part of the Equalist faction has turned you into Mako…'

Korra's words rang in his head, words he had dismissed before, but were beginning to hold an uncomfortable weight of truth.

He had told himself that the Equalist faction wouldn't change him, that he could take the power Amon offered without corrupting himself. But now, he could see that had been a foolish idea at best, outright moronic at worst.

And in that moment, some part of Mako knew he was done with the Equalists. Amon had nothing left to teach him, and the place was poisoning him.

It was easier to blame his environment than to think that he was so focused on his own goals and wants he had ignored everything else.

The next morning, neither the Lieutenant nor Amon mentioned anything about the midnight summons, which Mako took as proof that it had probably been an excuse concocted by the Lieutenant to check on him and Korra.

This interest in his sex life was fast moving from irritating to truly disturbing.

"We're moving again, Mako," the masked man informed him. "Tomorrow."

This didn't surprise Mako. Amon spent very little time in the actual Equalist faction. The fire bender suspected it was too open and exposed for his tastes; too many avenues of attack for a swift or clever assassin.

"But, of course, we have concerns about traveling with Avatar Korra," the masked man continued smoothly. "I would have suggested that you leave her here, however the Lieutenant informs me you have recently become most possessive of your little toy."

Mako took that to mean they'd assumed the locked door during the day simply meant he didn't want Korra interfered with. And that was true, though not for the reasons they seemed to suspect.

"So we just need her to travel with one of the slave trains; manacled, of course."

Mako shrugged. The small slave trains that transported the exclusives from base to base were always well-guarded, but he wasn't really concerned by that. The vast majority of Equalists would be too worried about offending him to risk hassling Korra, and as for the others...well, if Korra had managed to incapacitate nearly a dozen elites while collared, Mako suspected she could more than deal with the run-of-the-mill types even while shackled.

"Hn."

He left the room at that, dismissing Amon from his mind. He had never really respected Amon, but now that his mind was made up to leave, and leave soon, there was an extra edge of disinterest to his usual disrespect.

He found Korra staring out the window, an almost dreamy expression on her face.

"Did you know that guard down there has shouted out seven obscene suggestions and made a total of twelve provocative gestures at me in the last hour I've been at the window?" she mentioned, obviously staring at the man in question. "I think Amon should be really concerned about the IQ scores of this guy."

"Then why are you staring at him like that?" Mako muttered.

"Because I'm in the middle of a very graphic dismemberment fantasy."

"Dismemberment?"

"Yeah. I've gone through evisceration, asphyxiation, exsanguination by various methods, crushing, falling, beheading…hey, let's see if you can think up a mode of death I haven't covered yet."

"This is an infantile game, you realise that?"

"You're only saying that because you can't think of anything."

Korra grinned at him, having decided to pretend that whatever had gone on with him last night hadn't happened. That was how she'd worked around most of Mako's weird behaviour up until now, and she saw no reason to change what worked.

"We're moving again," he said, effectively cutting off their rather one-sided conversation about methods of murder. "And you have to move with the other slaves, in manacles."

Korra smirked. She had a good idea who had ordered that and why. "My little display made him that nervous, huh?"

Mako said nothing, because the only truthful statement that could have come out of his mouth was an agreement.

"And by the way," she went on. "There's one thing I've always wondered about manacles; do they come in sizes, or are they adjustable in the same way handcuffs are?"

Korra found out that it was a little of both. Apparently, the shackles that the Equalists used came in different sizes, but there was some adjustability in them, mainly because they were closed by a lock that could be slotted into one of three holes.

The Equalist tending to her yanked on her manacles after he'd closed them, ensuring they were secure.

Korra glanced down at the chains weighing down on her arms and legs, and didn't know whether to be flattered or irritated. They really thought she was going to be this much trouble?

One of the guards barked at the slaves to get moving, and Korra stepped forward, the chains restricting her to an awkward, shuffling step. She knew she was lagging behind the other slaves, and half-expected a blow for it but none of the guards made a move to strike her. She wondered at it for a moment, but when she tried to look at it from her captor's point of view, she understood.

Having Mako stake his claim on her in front of what must have been half the garrison and for him to keep her confined to his room had probably told the entirety of the Equalist faction that she was his. The Equalists around her probably envisioned her as having a sign hanging around her neck that read: 'Property of Mako, touch on pain of death by breath of fire'.

It was rather annoying and demeaning to be thought of as property, but if it kept the guards off her back, Korra could accept it.

"Is it just me, or does Amon have a thing for underground bases?" Korra mused, looking around at the room she had been led to, automatically healing the welts the manacles had rubbed on her skin.

This room was Mako's smallest so far, though still pretty large for a room that had been built underground, and as per usual, was equipped with only the bare necessities.

"Mmm."

"That doesn't count as a reply, Mako," she hissed, staring morosely at the bare stonewalls. "Now I don't even have a window to look out of; what am I supposed to do all day?"

Mako rolled his eyes. At least now they were in the underground base, he could kill Amon without worrying about interference. In the village, their battle would have drawn a lot of attention, but if he caught the masked man in his room, underground and isolated, then Mako was certain they wouldn't be interrupted.

But in the meantime he had training to do.

One last session and then he would strike.