Still experiencing a horrible bout of writer's block. :(
Enjoy! I'd love some feedback or just comments!
It was almost two years before the next time they met. This time, like the first, they were in the same place for a wedding. However, this time, the wedding was in the frozen south of Korra's village.
Just like before when he'd been to the Southern Water Tribe, Mako was freezing. He hid it much better last time—back then, he was trying to show off for Korra (not that it had mattered anyway)—but this time, there was no point. He was alone while Bolin and Korra strolled about town pulling together final details for the wedding and basking in the glow of their sickly sweet love, so there was no one to impress and damnit he was just going to sit there and whine as he shivered and shook. He certainly didn't need to impress himself. It didn't matter how large the fire that roared before him in the small house was and it didn't matter how many blankets he had pulled tightly against his frame. Even if he had ten more furs to wrap himself in, he was sure he'd still be a shivering, chattering mess on the floor of the village guest house.
Mako blew out a visible breath. The cold bit at his ears despite his scarf and fur-lined coat being pulled up so high he could barely see over them. He thought that maybe if he imagined being warm, he could trick himself into believing it.
"Good morning, Michi."
The tall man jumped where he sat, having not expected another person for the rest of the day. Much less this specific person—though he hadn't seen her in two years, Mako knew that aristocratic voice anywhere and no one else called him Michi.
Agni, no one but her.
"I wasn't expecting to see you here, your highness." He didn't turn to acknowledge her as he blew breath (not as warm as he hoped) onto his icy hands.
"Technically you still haven't seen me," Anzu corrected from her spot in the doorway. Pale light pooled around her and hit Mako's back, making his hair shine in the otherwise dim room. Her delicate eyebrow arched. "Are you holding a vigil?"
Mako rolled his eyes. "A séance, actually. I'm trying to reach the spirit of my real name. Which, by the way, is still Mako."
"I still like Michi better. There's not really anything you can do that will change my mind on that." He could almost hear the smile span across her face and he could remember it just as clearly. Anzu lent against the wall and cocked her head to the side, studying him as he sat motionlessly before the fire. "If you don't mind my asking, what are you doing?"
"Trying to keep warm."
"But you're a firebender."
"And you're a high ranking member of political society which makes it too potentially hazardous to my career for me to respond with what I'm really thinking. Now that we've covered our bases, how can I help you?"
"Whoa, calm down there, officer. I'm just making conversation. I was under the impression that firebenders created their own source of heat."
"I'm having trouble adjusting."
"Aw," a sugary-sweet tone permeated her voice, "don't worry baby. You'll get it; everyone's first time is hard. I'd have trouble adjusting to the cold too if I spent all my time cuddling with a fire."
"Ha ha," he muttered dryly.
Mako let out a heavy sigh. She confused the hell out of him and her teasing was more relentless than he remembered. To be fair though, his memory of her was a bit hazy—he remembered more clearly than he wanted to the low cut silk dress and the way her pale lips shaped words when she talked, the inappropriate-at-the-time swing of her small, round hips, and her aversion to using his name, though he knew she was fully aware that it was Mako, not Michi. He couldn't to this day explain why his stomach flipped at the thought in something that felt almost like affection. He'd nearly forgotten how sassy she was when they last spoke (his mind chose instead to push memories to the forefront that he felt nearly mortified to have at all, especially given that she was only a teenager at the time —he couldn't remember how old exactly, just that whatever the number had been made him spin a one-eighty and hightail it out of the room in terror).
But he hadn't forgotten about her constant use of innuendo—and its reappearance now was like a cold bucket of ice to the face.
The long silence was broken when the young girl cleared her throat. "So, you look cozy." Mako clenched his eyes shut in frustration. Why couldn't she just take a hint a leave? He was too confused when she was there being all…confusing and stuff. "Have you considered just sitting in the fire? It's horrible for the skin but it sure does make you hot."
"It's fucking cold, Princess. Can you let it go?" At last, Mako looked up and shivered immediately at the sight of the petite girl in a light tunic. "How are you not freezing?"
She stepped fully into the house and closed the door behind her, shutting the soft falling snow and breeze outside (exactly where Mako preferred it). Her cheeks were gently kissed with pink from the weather, but otherwise she didn't appear to be affected by the cold conditions in the least.
"I've been coming here twice a year since I was born. You get used to it pretty quickly." As though to prove her point, she pulled the soft hide-skin gloves from her fingers and tossed them onto a chair by the entrance. "I like the south. The Northern Water Tribe is too cold this time of year."
"It's the middle of freaking winter."
"Actually, the middle of winter isn't for another two months. Winter's just starting."
Mako sunk into his bundled warmth. "Are you saying it's going to get colder?"
The princess smirked and her chuckle chilled him to the bone. "Much colder. But don't worry, Michi; you'll be on your way back home before the dark months start." Her eyes narrowed with a silent smile. The girl pulled at the bright green scarf that had been wrapped around her throat and in its absence exposed a long expanse of smooth, milky skin.
He felt too warm. Just barely, he resisted the urge to pull his own scarf off just to escape the sudden surge of heat radiating from himself.
"Agni, would you go put some clothes on? I'm turning into an icicle just looking at you." He wasn't quite sure if it was true or not at that moment, but he mentally prayed that the objection would serve his purpose. His highly uncharacteristic and half-hearted purpose.
Anzu blinked, her eyes feigning shock. "Well, this is a first. Usually guys are ordering me to take my clothes off, not put more on."
Mako balked and pulled the thick hood up over his ears (both to keep in the heat and cover the new flush of color that tinted his face). "Don't do that," he muttered almost too quietly to be heard. "You're like, twelve." He was kicking himself inside.
Anzu snorted behind him. "If anyone's acting like they're twelve, it would be you. You're hiding under your blankets from a big bad girl."
"Am not," he pouted, indignant. Catching himself, Mako straightened in his spot on the floor and schooled his expression to a flat, humourless look. "I'm cold."
"Well, you'd never tell just by looking at you." The firebender shot her a sharp glare as she sunk onto the furs next to him. Anzu just laughed—that sound, though the memory of it was dull with time, hadn't changed since the first night it began to haunt him two years before. He locked his gaze on the tall orange flames before them and focused on his breathing in an attempt to ignore her. He didn't understand why it was so hard to do—she was just a girl. A girl whose memory refused to leave him a moment of peace for some reason unbeknownst to him.
What was with her? She wasn't so great. (He refused to dwell, while she was in the room with him, on the fact that while he couldn't pinpoint the reason for his fixation with her, he also couldn't find a single trait about her that hindered it in the least.)
Anzu lent forward, running her hands through the warm fur beneath them. "I'm actually offended, you know." Mako didn't break his gaze from the fire, but an eyebrow quirked in curiousity, egging her to continue the thought. "I'm definitely not twelve years old," she finished with a roll of her golden eyes (eyes like molten honey, lighter and sharper than his own which burned the colour of a small flame starving for air on a crisp night).
He knew that. He would have had to be an idiot not to know that—and even if she thought him one, he wasn't that much of an imbecile.
Mako barely managed a shrug through the layers and layers of covering. "Still too young." Much too young, he wa sure, to be torturing him with words best kept for the bedroom and all this flaunting she was doing with her body as she tugged her tunic more tightly against her abdomen and hips while she lay splayed out on the rugs beside him. Too young, too young, too young.
"Because you're attracted to me?" She said it so matter-of-fact that Mako had looked away from the fire to the young firecracker beside him before he realized that he'd done so. He hoped that she'd read the red painted across his cheeks and nose to be residual heat from the fire instead of the shock and embarrassment (at what? Being caught? Being called out?) that it was.
His eyes narrowed. "That's a presumptuous thing to say. And to think it's my ego that Asami's been feeding you stories about."
The young woman tilted her head to the side. "So, tell me I'm wrong."
Her long black hair fell into her face, free from any restrains unlike the last time he'd seen her. He found himself afflicted with a burning and unsettling feeling in his stomach at the calculating, serious look in her eyes that had been so carefree and teasing during their last encounter. His hand itched to reach out and swipe it from her vision but he was afraid that if he touched it, it would be as soft as it looked and he'd never let go.
Mako subtly swallowed back the lump in his throat and turned away from her. The flame was really fascinating and within the last five minutes, he'd come up with excuse after excuse to regale her with if she asked what he found so intriguing about it instead of giving her his attention.
She flipped onto her stomach and propped her chin on her hand as she stared up at him. "You're not much of a talker, are you?"
"You don't really shut up, do you?"
"Not when I want something."
An odd idea. Where was she going with that? "What is it that you want?"
"A date."
Mako drew back. "Sorry?"
"Don't be sorry until after you've tanked the date." Almost too quickly for him to catch, she winked and there was that twinkle he'd come to remember—come to associate specifically with her memory. "I want you to take me out. Tomorrow's my birthday. My eighteenth birthday, actually, so you can take me out for dinner and buy me my first legal drink."
Legal. The loose and leaking dam he'd built up around his most off-limits thoughts for the last two years seemed to spill out in a rush. Mako shifted awkwardly, feeling distinctly a bit too lecherous for comfort. But if she was legal…
Dear Agni, that could change everything. But in this case, he wasn't so sure that change would be good.
No, in this case change was terrifying. Mako's eyes darted about uneasily, his tongue tangled in his throat.
Silence was not Anzu's strong point. "It's not wise to turn down a princess, you know?"
Mako snorted indignantly. "What would you do? Banish me from a nation I don't belong to?"
"That wouldn't benefit my cause at all. I'd come up with more creative means of punishment."
It was in the way her eyebrow quirked and how her teeth tugged ever-so-subtly at her bottom lip that verified her very obvious intent in Mako's mind, triggering his flight instinct. What the hell was she? She definitely wasn't like any girl he'd ever met before.
But then again, he'd never run away from a girl (he intentionally forgot that he had once, from her). And he didn't plan to start now.
"Are you sure about this?"
"It's just a date, Michi. I think I can trust you not to get me drunk and sell me into slavery."
"The name's Mako. And how can you be so sure? We hardly know each other. I could be a maniacal criminal tasked with taking down the Fire Nation from the inside for all you know."
"You mean other than the fact that you're a cop and slavery is illegal? This is what dates are for. It's not like I'm asking you to marry me, or that I'm going to let you in on all the inner workings of private government intel. All I want is for a handsome man to take me out on my birthday—and maybe the day before my birthday for a cup of tea to warm up his pretty little hands so that he doesn't lose them. Occasionally I might like for him to squeeze a word in edgewise if I run out of things to say. Which, trust me, doesn't often happen."
Mako silently stared at her, eyes scanning her delicate face as though he could read whatever she was thinking just below the surface. Every time. She baffled him every time they met and threw him for a curve he didn't know if he was prepared to take.
"Most people learn quickly that it's not a good idea to say no to me."
"Because you're the princess?"
"No. Because I'm me."
"I'm not afraid of you."
"Well," Anzu chuckled. She pushed herself to her feet and reached a hand down to him as he hadn't budged from his spot on the floor. "We need to fix that."
Neither spoke for a long moment as the wind picked up, beating against the walls of the house. Mako's precious fire before him flickered with the sudden chill, though they were well enough protected inside the shelter. He watched as the flames licked at the cold air, struggling for purchase to climb higher and keep going—he wondered if he would have dreams of being a flame, like he had when he was delirious from mountain fever three years back, and he wondered if this time he would dream that Anzu was the cold that threw him off his high horse and made him struggle and work for his place in her life. Not, of course, that he wanted to be in her life. That was too far.
When had he started thinking in such an existential way? He thought maybe it was only recently—specifically, since she'd walked through the door that seemed so far away now and back into his life as she had only done once before. Quietly as a shadow, but aggressive enough to shake the entire foundation and leave him lying on his back in awe—
"Look, Michi—"
No, that just wasn't right. She surely couldn't mean anything that influential to him. He'd only met her once before. Only once, said the mantra in his mind.
"Mako."
How did she make herself so important?
"—wants are fleeting. Now I want to go on a date with you, but by the time the wedding rolls around in four days, I may want nothing to do with you. Are you really going to pass up this once in a lifetime opportunity?"
Her hand loomed before his face and Mako couldn't resist.
He learned that her favourite tea was Keemun and she preferred it steaming.
-/-/-
The two weeks that Korra had been missing during the Northern War was the most terrifying time of his life to date. The last words he'd said to her had been when he'd dumped her cruelly for the sake of his job, and he just felt awful that it might be her last memory of him. During that time, he realized that he did love her (well, they'd been saying it to each other for months during their time as a couple, but it had always just been spurred on by the fact that teenaged couples had to say it. All the time). He realized that while he loved her, he didn't love her in the way that he wanted to love her or in the way that she wanted to love him.
Why didn't he? She was the freaking Avatar, for Agni's sake. Why couldn't he? She was perfect, wasn't she? If she wasn't perfect, then what was? She was funny and hotheaded, sweet when she wanted to be and fiery when you back-talked. She was beautiful even without make up(so was Asami, but the heiress made a point of never letting anyone that she didn't spend the night with see her without any on). So what if she didn't know how to filter what she said and could sometimes be really mean without reason and so what if she yelled at him and blamed him for everything that was out of his control even if he wasn't involved? So maybe she was impulsive and didn't think through some of the things she did and maybe she put herself first sometimes when the security of the world was at risk. But so what? She was the Avatar—that was like an automatic pass, wasn't it? She was pretty smart and she was adventurous and fun and holy hell, her curves were amazing—
But despite all that, he didn't love her. He definitely had wanted her and at some point he'd even envied her. But during the two weeks where Korra was, at first, just-really-pissed-at-him-for-dumping-her-so-she-j ust-needs-some-space then missing and then dead and then back-home-alive-and-well, Mako had an epiphany.
She was his friend. Possibly the only best friend he'd ever had besides Bolin. He adored her. But love? No.
Love was what he saw the second Korra landed right in front of city hall and clambered off the giant sky bison, frazzled and green with air sickness. He saw it in the way Bolin's eyes went wide and the colour in his brother's face melted away to ash. It was in the tears that welled and began to stream shamelessly down the sides of the younger boy's face and in the shrill scream of her name that he gave the second his stocky legs remembered how to work well enough to go barreling towards their friend. Love seeped out at every pore when his brother scooped her up, spinning her around in a bone crushing embrace that left them both out of air and gasping back tears. There was so much love in the way that Bolin held her face between his hands tenderly to see if she was alive-actually-alive-are-you-really-here-or-is-this-just-a-dream-because-I'm-tired-of- waking-up-from-them-and-you-not-being-here-Korra that Mako actually looked away, feeling almost embarrassed that he'd looked on as long as he had (even though he shouldn't have, because there was nothing about it that should have felt as intimate as it did).
He didn't smile at the display. On the inside, his chest was bursting too fully with relief and something else that he couldn't identify (later, he looked back on it and thought it might be pride or affection for his brother's show).
He realized that maybe, just maybe, he didn't love her because he knew that his brother's heart had belonged to her all along—and you don't cross your brother. You just don't.
Mako had only seen Bolin look so genuinely heart wrenchingly happy three times in the course of their life.
The first had been when Korra came back into their lives, absolutely alive and well and Bolin had sobbed in relief.
The second had been when Korra agreed to marry him the first time he'd asked (Bolin had been so terrified she was going to turn him down that he put it off for three months and squinted his eyes shut while he waited for her answer). Bolin had kissed her hard on the mouth in front of everyone and he sobbed happily in relief.
The third time was when Bolin stood, joined with her by the hands, in front of a large congregation of their friends and family. The snow fell softly all around them and though the cold was enough to make any man want to jump into a volcano, Bolin had just smiled through it as he and the young Avatar were announced officially man and wife. Bolin shouted out in joy and for every tear that did not fall, he peppered a kiss on his wife's face and lips and hair.
Mako loved them.
-/-/-
After their date, Mako didn't see Anzu until four days later at his brother's and the Avatar's wedding.
He wasn't avoiding her. Not intentionally, at least—maybe he was. He wasn't sure. All he knew was that he didn't want to make a fool of searching for her, especially given that she had a habit of popping into his life exactly when she wanted and not a second before.
Okay, so he had sought her out. Once. As soon as he'd realized that he couldn't find her if he wanted to. The morning before, he'd asked around in town to try to find where the princess was staying (it had earned him several distrusting looks, especially from said princess's older brother who had threatened him an inch from his life almost immediately). Mako was a gentleman. He was sometimes a player as well, but first and foremost, he was a gentleman and after he took a woman out, he always thanked them for the lovely date and left with them a single red rose (it was cliché and he appreciated that because it meant that if he was only pretending to enjoy the time, then they wouldn't remember it for anything more than the cliché that it was).
But she had been impossible to find. The only straight answer he'd gotten as to her whereabouts had been from Korra, who told him almost rudely, "What is wrong with you? You two have been staying in the same house and you haven't even pulled your head out of your own ass long enough to say hello?"
How the hell was he supposed to know that the village guest house belonged to the Fire Lady? He wasn't omnipotent. And he definitely was sure that he hadn't seen Anzu coming or going from there even once since she'd stormed in on him. "Unless she's some kind of spirit cat, she's definitely not staying there," he told Korra in reply. Korra had simply rolled her eyes and sent him off.
During the wedding reception, he finally found her. She was standing around sipping at ice wine with her brother, Asami, and some Earth Kingdom soldier who was a friend of Iroh's that he'd been introduced to but couldn't remember the name of. The young man was tan and his smile was as blinding as his lines were cheesy as he laid down joke after joke trying to impress the impossible princess.
Mako was not focusing on them longer than it took to muster up the courage to walk over and join them. No-sir-ee.
He stood between Asami and the annoying-and-short general and directly across from the two royal siblings when he greeted them. Small talk was exchanged—remarks about the wedding, the delightful ambiance, and dear-mother-of-Agni-this-weather. It was all pleasant and boring until Mako finally mentioned the date between himself and Anzu days before.
"I was hoping to catch you before my ship left to thank you for the lovely evening, your highness."
Anzu smiled. "My pleasure entirely. I'm just glad I was able to get you to leave that dismal house before you unknowingly roasted yourself alive."
"Were it any other company, I might have chosen the alternative," Mako responded.
That was when Iroh's face warped into a sharp, seething glare. Mako knew that Anzu noticed by the way her smile turned up even more at the corner. Asami placed a gentle mittened hand on her husband's arm but looked between the two men nervously.
Anzu drew in a gasp. "Oh, how rude of me! I've been talking all your ears off and I didn't even introduce you." The princess tugged on the Earth Kingdom soldier's arm with all the energy of a rabbaroo. Gesturing to the taller newcomer, she said, "Li, this is Michi. Michi, this is my friend Li."
"Nice to meet you, Michi." The man stuck out his chubby hand and Mako shook it maybe a bit more forcefully than he really needed to.
Li. What a boring name. There were what, a million Li's? What made this one so special?
"Actually, my name's Mako." He threw a sidelong, exasperated glance at Anzu. In return, she just quirked an eyebrow and her eyes spoke volumes, as if challenging him to convince her otherwise.
Li frowned, but Mako—with all his detective skills and wits—could tell that the short man took at least a sliver of joy from the correction. "Oh, how sad; you took her on a date and yet she can't even remember your name."
He nearly snorted. "No, she remembers it."
Li looked to the princess in confusion and she stood perfectly still, confident in her decision. She grinned from ear to ear as though hers was the most exciting and impressive news that could ever be told. "I like Michi better." Asami coughed into her hand.
Li blinked his light brown eyes. "Does it bother you that she refuses to use your name?"
Yes, Mako thought, yes it does. It really, really, really, really does.
The police officer shrugged in impressively feigned indifference. "There's no arguing with what she wants."
She seemed to smile softly at him for a moment—he almost thought she had a look of affection about her. "Truer words have never been spoken," she drawled, as though swept up in a memory. "I always get what I want." A spark lit in her eyes, like he'd seen so many times before in the eyes of many other women. He swore that the air between them crackled with energy—
Until she turned away from him entirely. "The problem is, though, that sometimes it is so easy to become so overwhelmed with want that you end up with things you don't need." She slipped her slender hand onto Li's bent arm and began to lead him away. Without even a second glance in Mako's direction. "Which is why I'm starting a charity house—I'm so blessed, you see, with the life I was born into. Instead of taking more that I don't need, I want to help those that aren't blessed with such things..."
Mako looked after her blankly and raised his glass to his lips.
Iroh chuckled and slapped a hand against the taller man's back. "Don't take it personally, Mako. It's a family trait." Asami stretched up and kissed her husband on the cheek. Mako looked at the Fire Lord and raised an eyebrow—Iroh's hand had clamped onto his shoulder with unnecessary force.
"But I'm serious about what I said. Watch yourself."
Mako found himself standing alone in an icy room full of people and he promised to himself then that he would, indeed, do just that.
What the hell was she?
She was dangerous.
-/-/-