A/N: This was originally supposed to be a oneshot, but then suddenly I was at 8K and nowhere near finished, so I was like, "Yeah, that's not happening." So I split it into two parts.
Warning: there are mentions of depression, suicidal tendencies, and miscarriage. Nothing explicit, though.
Basically, welcome to proof that I am also Baavira trash. Enjoy!
On the Edge of Damnation
Part I
There was a muted roar emitting from behind the door.
Kuvira knew what it was. She could see the enraged faces now— none of them in specific detail, but the eyes were all the same: accusatory, menacing. She would feel every one of those stares, as was probably the intention. So long as her life was not in danger, the RCPD had no qualms about allowing the citizens of Republic City to see the former 'Great Uniter' in all of her prison-garb glory. Suyin's sister had no expression on her face as she took Kuvira by the arm, wrenching open the door.
Sunlight. Kuvira had forgotten what that felt like. It might have been pleasant if she were allowed outside at some point in the last two years, but at that moment it just felt like a slap in the face.
Chief Beifong, at least, didn't seem to appreciate the circus surrounding Kuvira's move from the prison to the courthouse. "Walk," she muttered behind her, her grip becoming more forceful. "Don't turn your head. Keep staring straight ahead. Don't say anything."
Kuvira did as she was told. She didn't look around. She didn't respond to any of the shouts thrown in her direction. Out of the corner of her eye she saw something sailing towards them, but before she could respond the chief swung one of her cables at it, knocking it out of the air. Though the crowd strained against the police barriers that were put up, they made it to the unmarked car without further incident.
"Hard part's over," Lin grunted, climbing in after Kuvira.
Kuvira almost snorted. That was a lie, if ever she'd heard one.
The crowd thinned as they took a less-public route to the courthouse, skirting around Korra's Crater and the spirit portal that it held. There were still-crumbling buildings hidden under the piles of spirit vines. There wasn't a spirit to be seen, which didn't surprise Kuvira. A tiny little wood spirit had once wandered into her cell, let out an unearthly shriek, and vanished. She fiddled with the platinum cuffs slightly, grateful for small victories (they hadn't cuffed her ankles together).
Chief Beifong said nothing during the trip, but her body spoke for her: she was tight as a bowstring, ready to snap at any sign of trouble. Kuvira had the impression that the Republic City chief of police would rather someone did attack the car, if only so that she didn't have to constantly be waiting for something to happen.
"This isn't going to be easy," Korra had said, during her last visit. "I don't think you expected it to be. But none of the legal counselors in the region really want to represent you, and I get the feeling that Raiko's pulled some strings in order to have that right revoked."
Kuvira wouldn't have accepted a legal counselor, at any rate. She didn't need 'defending'. She didn't want it. She'd told Korra as much, but for some reason that only made the Avatar look worried.
They were just passing by the train station when the car juddered to a stop.
It was Lin's nonexistent reaction that caught Kuvira's attention. The woman didn't say a word, instead continuing to stare out the window with a hawk-like expression, as though nothing had changed. Kuvira shifted in her seat, craning her neck around so that she could see outside, too. There was nothing out of the ordinary— just a few citizens going about their day, entering and exiting the train station—
They weren't moving.
Kuvira gaped. Then she twisted around and shuffled closer to the chief of police. Lin wasn't moving, either. She wasn't even breathing.
A metallic scream made Kuvira jump, and she turned her head in time to see the door of the car ripped clean off. Something with a huge black and white head stuck its face in the car, sniffed at her once, and then roared with enough force to make her lean back. It then backed up several steps and fixed her with an unending stare.
Kuvira frowned. "You want me to get out?"
It was a spirit— that much was obvious. But it didn't make sense. There was no point in a rescue mission, because the spirits probably hated her as much as the humans did, if not more so. Maybe it was taking her somewhere quieter, where she could face execution instead of them waiting for the humans to sentence her. That seemed more likely.
Seeing as how time was still at a standstill, there was no point in waiting. She could die later, or she could die now.
Deciding to give the great creature the benefit of the doubt, Kuvira climbed out of the car as best as her handcuffs would allow. The thing leaned closer and sniffed her again, growled, and then turned and stalked towards the train station. It ignored the other people frozen in place, turning to look back at her when it reached the entrance. Kuvira followed in silence, aware of how strange this would look to an outsider: the Great Uniter (no longer) in prison garb, following a large spirit into a train station.
She wondered if Korra was able to move, wherever she was. She wondered if the Avatar even knew what was happening.
It was the silence, apart from the spirit's movement, that unnerved her more than anything else.
The station was darkened when Kuvira entered it. The spirit almost vanished whenever it passed under one of the shadows, but its hulking form was easy enough for her to follow. It was preferable to Lin's tense guardianship, though she appreciated Suyin's sister's blunt personality and no-nonsense attitude. The spirit didn't seem capable of speech, though Kuvira was tempted to ask if it would be easier if the spirit just ate her now.
The spirit was able to walk through the frozen humans with little trouble, but Kuvira had to duck around groups and small children. She eventually became aware of other eyes on her, these ones little better than those of the mob that had confronted her outside of the prison.
Eventually she decided to say, "I'm pretty sure that the humans are going to give me an adequate punishment for my crimes. I'm not sure what this is about."
The spirit didn't roar at her, but the look it sent her was enough to make her reconsider speaking again.
Eventually they reached a platform deserted of human beings, and the spirit stopped beside a bench, sitting and looking a bit like an angry guard dog. Kuvira sat as well, doing her best to ignore the way it stuck its head near her and sniffed her, as though it was making sure she didn't run away. Not that there was a lot she could do against a giant spirit, considering her chi had been blocked before she left the jail. She let her hands sit limply on her lap and closed her eyes, trying to meditate (a suggestion Korra had made during one of her earlier visits), but concentration was nigh impossible.
She was nervous.
She didn't have the right to be. Kuvira liked to think she had been accepting of her punishments thus far; it was more the lack of people left in her life that hurt, as opposed to the confinement. Korra's visits were few and far between, and though the Avatar understood her, it did not mean she liked or cared for her.
You did try to kill her, Kuvira reminded herself. People aren't supposed to like you if you do that.
Kuvira had no one to blame but herself for her predicament. She knew that. It was one of the things that made her such a cooperative convict.
What were they waiting for? In spite of being able to sense glares directed at her, Kuvira could see no other spirits in the train station. The spirit beside her seemed to share her impatience, because it began to pace around the bench she was sitting on. Kuvira eventually realized that she ought to be freaking out more about this, but then the whole day had begun with a surreal air. This didn't seem like much of a stretch.
Finally, noises in the distance alerted both her and the spirit, and it stood up and sniffed in the direction they'd come from. After a while, Kuvira was able to make out a voice rambling on loudly.
"… stupid, idiotic decisions. You know how many we had writhing in agony because of you? Because of you and her and your 'miracles of science'? Well I didn't count, but it was a lot!"
Kuvira stood up, but a loud snarl from the spirit that had guided her had her sitting again.
A tall, willowy spirit with flowers growing out of its head led the way, ranting angrily (and making Kuvira grateful that she'd gotten the one that didn't speak her language). She didn't even look at it twice, however— she only had eyes for the person it was leading towards them.
It was hard not to flinch, when their eyes met, but she held his gaze until something in his made her look away. He wasn't handcuffed, but it was clear that he didn't want to be there. He was also dressed in a suit— the kind of thing that a high-class citizen of Republic City might wear, rather than the Zaofu garb he should've been wearing. Baatar looked her up and down, but his tight expression (like Lin's) did not change. She knew what she looked like: a green jumpsuit and hair that she'd been allowed to messily braid before leaving. Her muscles were even harder than they had been during her surrender, all of the fat siphoned off by a scant diet and hours of working out because there was nothing better to do.
In haunted looks and shadows under their eyes, they matched.
"Hello Baatar," she said after a moment.
"Kuvira."
"Enough chit-chat!" Baatar's guide spat. "You both know why you're here. You've got things to answer for, Mr. Engineer, and you—" he jabbed a finger at Kuvira— "don't even get me started on you, Great Uniter. We don't get involved in human wars, but you made us get involved, and you're going to—"
The larger spirit growled.
"What? But I wanna—"
"What you want doesn't matter."
The third voice was a good deal calmer than the willow spirit. Kuvira looked up to see a spirit with a round, white face glide down from seemingly nowhere. Its eyes were wide, like blue chips of ice, and its mouth seemed fixed in a straight line, but it was clearly the one who had spoken. Whatever body it might have had was encompassed by a white cloak, which fluttered as it moved down to join them.
Fitting, in her current situation.
The spirit was even more difficult to keep eye contact with that Baatar, but this time Kuvira did not look away. It moved uncomfortably close to her face, but she kept her own expression impassive, unsure of what it wanted. It turned and did the same to Baatar, who couldn't seem to keep himself from flinching back.
"You may go," it finally said. The words were not directed at either her or Baatar, for the other two spirits bowed deeply and faded into the darkness. The third spirit seemed to grow in height as it regarded the two of them. Kuvira stood up, confident this time that she wouldn't be roared at.
"I am aware that your judgment by the other humans is at hand, Kuvira," it finally said. "And I am aware that your judgment by the other humans has already passed, Baatar Jr. Beifong. But the spirits have decreed that whatever punishment you have received or will received is not sufficient. We have agreed that you must face our justice in addition to whatever the humans have sentenced you with."
Kuvira said nothing. It certainly seemed fair.
Baatar almost looked relieved. The spirit noticed this, and looked at him sharply.
"Do not think this a boon, human, even if it does seem an escape from your mother's gilded cage," it warned him. Kuvira, too, glanced at Baatar. "There is a train arriving in five minutes. The choice is yours: board it, and face the trials beyond, or leave, and wander the world in this pocket of time until you wither and die. You may even go and find the people you know. You may face them, beg them to move or recognize you, but there will be no response. Boarding the train, however, may mean a worse fate."
That made things easy. Worse fate or not, Kuvira couldn't stand the silence.
The spirit looked at her once more with something she couldn't identify, before it vanished as well.
There was no sign of a train approaching, but Kuvira sat back down the bench, closing her eyes and taking a breath, like Korra had taught her. Detaching herself from everything around her, from the situation she was in.
Quietly, to her right: "You're going to board that train, aren't you?"
"I have no reason not to."
A slight movement told her that he had sat down on the bench too, as far away from her as he could possibly get. She ignored the slight ache in her gut at the thought of him so near, because he could not have been further away from her. Instead, she continued her breathing exercises until the tightness in her stomach loosened, and she regained her sense of resignation. She opened her eyes to see a light in the distance to the left, and Baatar sitting on her right. His fists were clenched in his lap.
"Why do you think they waited until now?" he asked.
Kuvira had already thought of that. "I suspected they wanted a day that would be meaningful. My first time seeing sunlight in two years. Also, I suspect it's your first time seeing me again. Dressed like that, you look the part of a credible witness that the prosecution can exploit."
He glared at her, but Kuvira couldn't bring herself to care. She'd lashed out, in spite of telling herself that her hurt didn't matter. She turned away from him before he could answer, and whatever he might have said was drowned out by the screech of the train's arrival.
It didn't look any different from the other trains frozen in the station, but there was no one aboard that Kuvira could see. She stood and moved to the doors. She was tempted to look back and wait for Baatar to board with her, but she knew that this had to be his decision. So she instead went to the back of the car and settled down in a seat there, looking out the window. Baatar had apparently been right behind her the entire time, and he sat across the aisle from her. He refused to look at her.
The train pulled out of the station, but when it emerged outside it was clear they weren't in Republic City any longer. There were rouge cliffs towering above them on either side; whatever natural light there was to be had, it didn't reach the bottom of the gorge they were traveling in. Kuvira suspected they were in the Spirit World, and she couldn't stop herself from looking over at Baatar to see his reaction. It wasn't jaw-dropping shock, but his eyes were a little too wide for someone who was indifferent.
Kuvira knew little of the Spirit World, aside from the field of flowers where Korra had managed to connect to her enough that she finally stopped moving down her destructive path. The place where the train was riding through gave her chills, even though it wasn't exactly dark. Maybe it was the fact that there were still no spirits to be found here, in spite of the fact that this was supposed to be their domain. Or maybe it was the way the two cliffs looked like jaws about to snap over them.
Kuvira looked over at her ex, wondering if he knew that they were equals here. Even when her chi blocking wore off, she would not be able to bend. That was another detail she recalled from her previous visit: she could no longer feel the earth beneath her feet in the same way she could in the real world.
Why hadn't the spirits just taken them through the portal? Why go to all the trouble of forcing them to board a train (that she strongly suspected would not have been present in the real world)?
It occurred to her that she had not, for one second, thought it was strange that spirits had trains. Hm.
Eventually the train slowed to a stop, and the doors slid open. Kuvira stood; this time she did wait for Baatar, though he ignored her and left the train first. They emerged onto a deserted, sandstone platform, at a place where both cliffs fell away to reveal what looked like the wide expanse of a desert. It wasn't sand, sand and more sand like the Si Wong Desert in the Earth Kingdom; instead, this desert consisted mostly of redstone, stretching endlessly in all directions except for behind them, where the cliffs towered over them.
The sun was setting ahead.
As soon as the doors closed again, the train sped back the way it had come. Kuvira tugged a little on her restraints; somehow she'd forgotten that she was even handcuffed during that train ride. She couldn't shake the feeling of unease that surrounded her, even though the desert appeared empty and without danger. Maybe it was the way it gaped before them, the dying sunlight making the stone look like it was stained with blood.
"What now?" Baatar asked. "What trial are we supposed to face? Do we cross the desert?"
Kuvira suspected that attempting to go back the way they'd come would prove fruitless, and turning around proved her right: the ravine they had come through had vanished, leaving only a solid rock face. There was no sign of any spirits in any direction. Maybe they were cursed to wander this endless infinity for eternity, or until they starved to death. Did they even need sustenance in the Spirit World? Kuvira didn't know.
"Do we have another option?" she countered. Seeing no other way, she stepped down from the platform and onto the desert, gasping when she suddenly felt the sensation of stone and sand on her soles, between her toes. Her shoes had vanished.
The ground was still baked enough that she almost hissed in pain, but after several deep breaths, she managed to adjust to the sensation. It would cool overnight. She just needed to be patient.
Baatar cringed next to her as the same thing happened to him when he stepped off the platform. "Seems like something out of a myth," he observed dryly, looking down. "Punished by walking across the burning ground with no shoes."
The longer they walked, the more Kuvira found that she didn't actually mind the whole barefoot thing. It was… kind of freeing, in a way.
It took them what was maybe half an hour of traveling before she realized that the sun was never going to set. It had been moving across the sky while they were on the train, but now it seemed destined to hang on the horizon while they traversed the desert. Kuvira looked behind her once or twice to see the cliff receding, but there was no change in the landscape in front of them. Neither of them spoke; their decision to stay together had been subconscious. Kuvira wasn't sure why— Baatar could've gone off on his own. He had every reason to do so.
They walked, but they didn't tire. They probably could have slept if they chose to, but in spite of her better judgment a childish part of Kuvira rebelled at the thought of being that vulnerable.
Every so often, she dropped back a few paces and observed Baatar from behind. His shoulders were hunched, the way they had been before the two of them left Zaofu, and much of the muscle mass he'd gained during their three years as conquerors was missing. He'd kept the haircut, though, and Kuvira had a feeling that his moods were darker, and that he was even more withdrawn.
There were questions she wanted to ask him: did he get along with his siblings again? Had his parents forgiven him? Were they still calling him 'Junior'? How was Opal? Was she still traveling the world, helping those in need? Was Huan still attempting to begin a movement of modern art? What about Zaofu itself? Were the domes being reconstructed?
(Had he moved on? Found someone better?)
They did stop, eventually, if only because they saw no end to the desert. Kuvira sank down in a lotus position, already preparing to meditate in order to pass the time. Sensing a gaze on her, however, she opened her eyes and flicked her gaze to the side, where Baatar sat, watching her.
She straightened her shoulders, joining her hands together and twisting them in her lap.
"I'm sorry, Baatar."
He said nothing, continuing to look at her.
Kuvira had a feeling that this wasn't encouraging, but she tried anyway. "I… you were right, in Republic City. You were right. It wasn't worth it, and I am so sorry."
None of it was. It was only after it was all over that she saw the truth: she had nothing. Maybe it was her lot in life, to have nothing, but she had filled that void with what was mostly power. The small bit of love that she had was squandered when she once again chose power, and Baatar had paid the price.
He looked down at his hands. "It's a bit late for that now, don't you think?"
There was a frigidity in his voice that made her gut clench. It was really remarkable that he hadn't exploded at her yet. And here she was, caught between longing for him and resenting him. Well, maybe not resenting him, but being jealous of what he had. What right did she have, to resent him for those things? She brought that on herself. Her lack of a family was her own doing.
"I don't suppose you'd like to hear my reasons for it."
"Not particularly."
Kuvira nodded. She had to accept that. She turned her body away from the setting sun (and away from him) and placed her hands on her knees, this time refusing to let his gaze deter her from her attempts at meditation. It wasn't all that fruitful (she never did really get the hang of it, but Korra had told her that it took her ages to get it right, anyway). Still, she did manage about five minutes of clear-headedness before her concentration broke once again.
A shuffling sound alerted her to Baatar moving closer, and she formed a picture of him in her mind. It was a picture of him back in Zaofu, before all of this, when he had bashfully complimented her on her dance performances, blushing when she beamed at him in return. Then it morphed into a picture of him in those three years, when he was confident and collected and their relationship took another turn (neither of them chose to show it outwardly, but it was easy when they were alone). That had been when everyone spat at her and cursed her name, but he held her in the dark and whispered that he loved her.
Then it morphed into him now: a scar on his cheek, thin and drawn, and… tired. She could picture him studying her, still baffled two years later, trying to figure out what it was about her that made everything go wrong.
Giving up the pretense of meditation, she opened her eyes and met his startled ones. He was close enough that she could reach out, and…
Kuvira didn't move.
"What do you want from me?" she asked.
It wasn't an accusatory question. It was her, offering him whatever it was he needed. She made herself as unguarded as possible. Whatever gave him peace, she was willing to give it to him. Even if it rid her of one of the only connections she had left in the world. Even though it hurt.
He flinched back from her. She waited for him to answer, but he didn't.
"We should keep moving," he said eventually. He stood up, and this time he offered her a hand up. She took it, and they continued on their way.
Eventually, something on the edge of the landscape did change. It was a lone outcropping of rock; it looked a bit like a tall man stooped over in the sunlight. Kuvira narrowed her eyes; there was someone standing atop it, staring out at them, waiting for them to approach. It was only as they got closer that she felt her heart jump into her throat as she recognized what it was.
Silver shoulder pauldrons. A crisp, green military uniform. Hands folded behind their back, looking out at them with a stony gaze.
The chill that Kuvira had felt when she first set eyes on the desert was nothing compared to what crept up her spine now, as the figure leapt silently but gracefully down the outcropping. As she walked towards them, she casually raised a hand, and three strips of metal leapt from her uniform, orbiting around her writhing fingers.
Kuvira's steps faltered; Baatar noticed.
"Kuvira?"
The… thing was still coming. It ignored Baatar completely, smirking when it saw Kuvira's fear. Kuvira took another step back, involuntarily forming a fighting stance even though she couldn't earthbend. The Great Uniter looked at her almost pityingly, and without warning the three strips of metal flew at her.
Kuvira twisted and ducked out of the way of the first and the second, but the third caught her right wrist. She couldn't stop herself from crying out as the other Kuvira hoisted her into the air. There was nothing on its face when it looked at her. It used another move she recognized, tearing more metal strips of her uniform and molding them into metal scythes, and bending them at her—
"Kuvira!"
Someone was crying out, and it didn't take long for Kuvira to realize it was herself. She gasped in air, staring at the outcropping from where she was on her knees. A bout of nausea hit her and she doubled over, retching.
"You didn't see it?" she gasped out at Baatar.
He looked utterly bemused. "See what?"
Kuvira opened her mouth again, then closed it. She tried to steady herself, unsure of why the sight had been so horrifying. She'd been struck by severe bouts of guilt and self-loathing in her cell over the past two years, but this was… not the same. Was that what she looked like, when she stood over her victims? Was that how Korra had seen her when she was preparing to kill her outside Zaofu?
Spirits, and the Avatar had forgiven her.
"It's nothing," she replied. She stood on shaky legs. Whatever that had been— a trick, a hallucination— it was gone now, and nothing could be done about it. They moved closer to the outcropping, finding that it was even larger than they'd first estimated as they got closer. It really did look like a man stooped over, as though carrying some great weight on its back.
Considering Kuvira's double had been atop it earlier, it was almost fitting.
"Does it mean something?" Baatar mused. "I still just see desert everywhere else."
"I don't know." Silently, Kuvira thanked the spirits that her voice was steady. She moved closer to the stone, walking around one of the legs before shrugging at Baatar. She wasn't sure what the purpose of this desert was— to drive them insane? If so it seemed to be working, considering the hallucination she'd had just now. Baatar joined her at the base of the outcropping.
"Someone didn't want their sculpture and dumped it out here, I suppose," he said dryly, resting one of his hands on it.
The moment his hand made contact with the stone, it was like everything stopped. Kuvira sucked in a breath as something like a wave spread out from all of them, changing the landscape entirely. Everywhere, desert gave way to large, skeletal black trees sitting in pools of murky water. There were noises here, and she thought she could see movement, but overall it was almost worse than the desert. She turned in place, seeing that (like the desert) it was the same in all directions.
Baatar gawked. "So we just had to touch it?"
It didn't seem like much of a punishment.
"That's where you're wrong."
Both of them whirled around, to where a shadowed figure stood on the massive roots of one of the trees. The being jumped down a moment later, landing in the murky water with a splash. Kuvira glanced up, noticing that the statue had turned to wood— it still looked like a man, but it was clearly now a tree, rather than a rock. She turned her attention back to the newcomer, surprised to see that it wasn't a spirit at all.
Even with the abundance of hair, he was recognizable.
"It figures that your prison turned out to not be much of a prison," she said.
Zaheer gave her a pitying look. "Your mind is your prison, Great Uniter," he said, disgust in his voice. Kuvira managed to stop herself from flinching at the way he addressed her, but he seemed to notice anyway. "You fail to see it. Either way, this isn't a reprieve from what you had before."
"Then what is it?" Baatar asked.
"This is just you going deeper. I can't say what might have happened if you continued to traverse the desert— had you been patient, you may have found some other way. You blind yourselves by believing your path to be the righteous one, so it's no surprise that you ended up here. I have to warn you, this is probably your final destination."
"However friendly you may be with the spirits," Kuvira said, "I'm surprised that they let you be privy to their plans for us."
Zaheer shrugged. "It's all any of the spirits have been able to speak of for days. It's hard not to hear about it."
Kuvira moved carefully (her cuffed hands meant her balance was off) down from the statue of the man hunched over, stepping into the pool to stand in front of Zaheer. The water was lukewarm, and made her shudder slightly, but she stood her ground, drawing herself to full height.
"My path was never righteous," she said. "And I'm not so foolish as to believe that this is the path to redemption. What's waiting for us here?"
Baatar slid into the knee-deep water next to her, but he said nothing.
Zaheer studied her. "I can see it now," he said after a moment. "How you managed to inspire enough people to unite the Earth Kingdom in three years. For one so young, you possess a remarkable amount of charisma and confidence. I can see the person I would have destroyed, had I been free to do so. I'm not fond of despots."
"And I'm not fond of anarchists who take action without regard for the consequences because of their own selfish wishes," Kuvira replied.
"Regardless of that," Baatar cut in, annoyance in his voice. "Would you answer the question, Zaheer?"
Zaheer looked away from them both. "A spirit. He… likes visitors."
"Just when I thought you couldn't get more ominous," Baatar muttered. Kuvira snorted, ignoring Baatar's surprised look. She opened her mouth to tell Zaheer that they would find a way of dealing with it, but the Red Lotus member had vanished. She'd forgotten that his corporeal form wasn't here— he could leave any time he wanted. She and Baatar, on the other hand, were stuck.
"What do you suppose he meant?" Baatar asked.
"Nothing good."
Kuvira waded through the water, making her way around the trees. It seemed that this was meant to be more walking. There was some kind of monkey-like spirit sitting on one of the roots, but it looked at her and Baatar before harrumphing and stalking away. She gathered that it was not the spirit that Zaheer had spoken of. A few times she saw movement out of the corner of her eye, coupled with a flash of green and silver, and for once she did not look.
Seeing that they had nothing better to do, she spoke to Baatar.
"Why follow me?" she asked him. "Based on your letter, I would have believed you were done with following me."
"I reasoned that we had a better chance of getting through this by sticking together."
She'd come to that conclusion as well, but neither of them were rational beings when it came to emotion. Working together— that dynamic had come back easily. Too easily. The unspoken tension was still there, however, and she could see the anger simmering below the surface. Kuvira was keeping her own resentment under wraps, burying it deep down where no one could find it. She knew it infuriated him— how calm she was. How accepting she was.
Her apology wasn't enough— not that she'd ever expected it to be.
"I regretted sending that letter the moment I placed it in the mailbox," he said. "A lot of it was true, but a lot of it was my anger speaking for me."
"You were right to let it."
"Was I?" Baatar started pacing, as much as the water would allow. "That's what I did, when I left Zaofu. I let my anger at my parents cloud any judgment I might've had. Soon it became anger at those who resisted us— how could they not see? Why couldn't they accept that what we were doing was for the betterment of everyone? It was that anger that blinded me to the horrors we caused."
Kuvira remembered a night in Ba Sing Se, their first time visiting after they had succeeded in stabilizing everything. She remembered when they came under attack from a group of bandits who were rebelling against the officers she'd left in charge of the city. She remembered seeing the face of a woman she had recognized, and remembered the cold rage that rose up within her. She remembered Baatar standing next to her, looking equally furious, while she snarled at her men to take them away.
This isn't about you, she reminded herself.
"I won't deny that the letter hurt," she said, "but I deserved every word. I don't take pride in anything I've done, Baatar. There are a lot of things I wish I could take back. What happened to you was…high, on that list."
"High." He laughed bitterly. "Not at the top, I suppose?"
"We both know there are things that mean more than either of us." Against her better judgment, Kuvira moved towards him and settled a hand on his back. "It was when we refused to accept that— that was when we started making so many mistakes."
He shrugged her off. "Are you sure you refused to accept that? You certainly put the empire above us."
"That wasn't what I meant. There are some lines that shouldn't be crossed, and I crossed them."
Kuvira turned around— she knew that the conversation was lost— but was surprised to hear him say, "We crossed them."
She started wading again, but he kept talking. She didn't say anything, allowing him to continue while he explained to her that this wasn't the way he'd been expecting things to go. He'd always had something prepared for the day when he would come face-to-face with her again, but it had all gone out the window when the spirit took him to the train station. He had thought their meeting would take place in the Republic City Jail visiting room, after her trial, when he was able to sit at the table across from her and look her in the eye and tell her that they were done. It was harder here, when they had to rely on one another.
Kuvira sighed, too quietly for Baatar to hear. He had been planning on leaving her, then. She had long ago resigned herself to having only Korra in her life, and yet…
He trailed off after a while, leaving a heavy silence between them.
"I'll get you out of the spirit world, Baatar," she told him. "After that, you can consider it a goodbye. You won't have to see me again."
"Is that what you want?"
Kuvira stopped. She couldn't look at him, because she couldn't tell him what he needed to hear. Her gut clenched in a way that it had not since Republic City— since she had made the decision to give him up, if it meant destroying the Avatar. Against her will, she felt her hands clench into fists at her sides. In her moment of panic, she forgot her meditation techniques. She heard water sloshing, which meant he was moving to stand next to her, which meant any moment now he would see—
"Well, well."
The voice was deep, and startling. Kuvira felt herself freeze up, though this time it was for a different reason. Three years of practice meant that she composed herself for this newcomer instantly— and it was that reaction, ultimately, that saved her.
The thing that slithered out from between two of the trees had to be a spirit. Even so, it was the most horrifying spirit she'd ever had the misfortune to lay eyes on (not that she saw many spirits). Even the spirit draped in white that had greeted them at the station didn't instill fear in her the way this one did, although she suspected that that spirit had been more dangerous. It looked like a giant centipede, with a man's face at the end, the mouth moving in time with the words, though the voice was deep and seemed to come from all around them.
"Such esteemed visitors," it purred.
"Whatever you do, Kuvira," Baatar said, his tone oddly monotone. "Do not show emotion." Kuvira glanced at him to see that his face was blank. If Baatar had been willing to shove down all of his emotions in front of this being, that meant that Kuvira should heed his advice.
"I see your friend is well-learned, Kuvira," the thing said. It coiled around the both of them, as though herding them together, and Kuvira wound up back-to-back with Baatar, feeling slightly ashamed at how comforting his warmth was. "Pity that the Avatar isn't with you. I'd have liked to see my old friend again."
Kuvira had a feeling that this was one spirit that Korra should never go near.
"Is there something you'd like?" she asked politely.
The thing moved very close to her. Kuvira recognized it as an intimidation tactic, but it took everything she had not to appear startled when its face abruptly changed. This time, it was the face of a child with black hair, grinning toothily at her.
"It's been so long since I've had visitors," it said. "Especially ones as interesting as yourselves. Kuvira, the Great Uniter, and the engineer that was able to discover how to use the spirit vines in the first place, Baatar Jr. Beifong. I daresay we could discuss you for hours."
"There isn't much to tell," said Baatar.
"No?" It scuttled away from her, no doubt about to attempt the same startling tactic on Baatar. Kuvira was tempted to take his hand for reassurance, but she knew that he might be caught off guard by that, and then she'd have doomed him. She settled for leaning back into him, briefly allowing her expression to soften while she had the respite. There was something about this spirit's presence that was draining to her.
"We could discuss the consequences," the spirit said. "We could discuss how the spirits were in agony because of your actions. We make a point not to get involved in human wars, but do you know how many were writhing in pain? There was a point where one too many spirits said, 'No more', and you were brought here. The only time I have ever interfered in the lives of humans was when I punished that fool, Kuruk, but with you two… oh, I was tempted."
"What do you want to hear?" This was the kind of conversation that Kuvira had had with multiple visitors in the past two years— with Korra herself, with Asami Sato, with Su. "That I was swept up by power, that eventually I became so fixated on what I was convinced was 'good' that I blinded myself to the bad. Or maybe that I knew what I was doing all along, and that my people were suffering, but that I didn't care because I kept telling myself that it would all work out for the best in the end?"
While spoke, the spirit moved around to stare at her again.
"It's been two years," Kuvira said. "I have already said everything I can say. Do you want me to say it again?"
She wondered if the spirit knew of the first year in prison, when she had stared at her wooden cutlery and contemplated plunging the knife into her abdomen. Or when she waited until night, when the guards would not hear, and vivid flashes of the horrors that might have been went through her mind— Opal dead, the airbenders (many of whom were children) dead, Republic City burnt to the ground while she sat on a throne of ashes. She thought of the time when she refused to eat for almost a week, until Korra came during her next visit and noticed her condition. That conversation was mostly a blur, but something Korra had said had motivated Kuvira to start living again.
That was when she started working out in her cell, or meditating— anything to clear her head of those thoughts, but at night she still had endless nightmares. There was nothing to be done about the little sleep she got, and it was one of the afflictions that she never was able to get over. The only way Kuvira could sleep these days was by working out until she passed out from exhaustion; it only got her about two or three hours a night, but she made do.
Kuvira wondered if the spirit knew what she lost, that first year. The day she'd woken up with a start to find blood on her cot.
Its smile twisted, became uglier than before. "Should I take your fiance's face?" it asked. "It's not pretty, but it might do."
Baatar tensed up behind her.
"Go right ahead," she said. "I won't miss it."
The thing stopped moving altogether, its gaze fixed on hers. Kuvira didn't flinch, didn't buckle, didn't so much as think of looking away from it, even for a moment. She slid back into her old façade easily— almost too easily. It wasn't Kuvira who looked back at the spirit threatening the one person she didn't think she could stand to lose.
It was the Great Uniter.
The thing laughed then— deep and reverberating. Not at all comforting.
"Perhaps you ought to have been a waterbender," it said, "considering how cold that was."
"What if I made you a deal," Kuvira said. "You take my face, and in exchange he gets to leave this place unharmed. Maybe I think too much of myself, but I'd think the face of the Great Uniter would be quite an addition to your collection."
"Ah, you do amuse me, human," it said. "But as a matter of fact, since your actions did not affect me personally (and goodness knows the other spirits are not altogether fond of me), I'm willing to be merciful. You have, in my mind, already paid your dues."
So he did know, then.
"I don't suppose you'll be willing to tell us the way out, then?" Baatar asked.
"Nice try, human." It slowly uncoiled itself from around the two of them, but even then Kuvira did not relax. "No, you will just have to walk and walk, until you find what you're looking for. And if either one of you so much as smiles, I will know, and I will find you."
Kuvira took that to mean that they still couldn't show emotion. She would have to ask Baatar to explain that, when they were safe.
The spirit slithered away from them into the darkness of the forest. She watched its great body go, keeping her face expressionless. She was thankful that its attempts at unnerving them were fruitless.
Kuvira couldn't remember which way they had been going when the spirit first intercepted them, so she chose a direction and started wading through the stagnant water again. Baatar did so as well. She knew that there were things he wanted to say, but like her he dared not speak, lest his emotion show through his voice.
Unlike the desert (which had seemed endless), it wasn't long before the forest began to lighten, and the trees started to look younger. She still didn't know if they were safe (the feeling of unease had yet to depart), when movement caught the corner of her eye. Expecting to see the spirit return, Kuvira made the mistake of looking.
Her doppelganger was back.
This time it didn't approach her, merely watching her with a face just as expressionless as her own. Kuvira made herself look away from it, knowing that it wasn't really there, and that this was not the time or the place for her to break down again— it would only attract the spirit's attention. Unable to stop herself from looking back at it again, she was startled (not outwardly) to see that it had vanished.
It became very apparent when they escaped the spirit's domain, because they found themselves in an open, grassy field. It was like some weight left Kuvira then, allowing her to straighten her shoulders. Baatar's soft exhale of relief echoed her own.
"Thank you," he said.
"For?"
"Whether what you said was true or not, I think you may have saved my life back there."
"I said I would get you out," she replied. "I intend to follow through on that. And… for what it's worth, it wasn't true. You mean a great deal to me."
They stood in silence after that, staring out over the rolling hills, which were dotted with white flowers here and there. Kuvira didn't think she'd ever seen a green so vibrant. The only thing that was off was that the sky was a vivid violet, as opposed to the blue that she was used to, and there was no sign of the sun anywhere. It was better than the desert, though, and the disgusting swamp behind them.
"That was Koh," Baatar explained. "I've read stories about him in the past. Supposedly, if you show emotion in his presence, he steals your face. I never really believed it, but I didn't want to risk it being true. Anyway… does any of this seem off to you?"
"I'll admit that none of it has really seemed like a punishment so far," Kuvira said. "Yes, facing Koh was difficult, in its own way, but for the most part nothing truly bad has happened."
"Hm." Baatar looked at her. "What did Koh mean when he said that you've already paid your dues?"
Kuvira didn't answer. She didn't think she could.
"Let's keep moving," she said. "We might as well find out what else the spirits have in store for us."
