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I got art! The lovely and amazing Amorramatic over on Tumblr drew a picture of the coat scene in chapter seven, the link to which I will be posting on my profile. Seriously, I still can't get over it, it's perfect and lovely and jdghdfkghdfkgjhdkjghdkjghdkj fghdkjgd

Okay, so I might have gotten a little motivation to get this chapter done early because of art. And I might have decided to post it tonight instead of tomorrow because of all the really, really nice messages I've been getting on my Tumblr and deviantArt. Sue me, I love my readers!

All in all, this isn't my favorite chapter, per se, but it was necessary. And it's still interesting. It was just weird for me to write.

Also, SoA.

And OMG WHAT THE EFF. I've apparently gotten like a whole fucking thousand more hits since two days ago?! Are you guys insane?! JFC ;U; THANK YOU!

"You're the— what?" Noatak faltered and went silent, staring at Korra like she'd suddenly sprouted an extra limb. "Are you sure you're feeling okay, Korra?"

Korra made a face, a little put off by his attitude, but she knew that this wasn't going to be a simple revelation by any means. And, if she had to choose a reaction, she supposed incredulity was much better than a murderous rampage.

"I can prove it," she replied automatically, barely waiting for her words to sink in before she was stomping one bare foot into the ice, sliding it in a quarter-turn—a move much more reminiscent of earthbending, but then again, bending ice required more force than bending water. A depression fell into the floor, revealing what looked like a small pool. She noted the recognition on Noatak's face, releasing her grip on his wrist to turn her whole body toward the pool. Extending her arms, palms up with elbows bent, she sank into a waterbending stance, melting the ice she had forced downward and filling the pool with water. Feet shoulder-width apart, upright and with palms parallel to her chest, Korra exhaled, using subtle firebending to heat the water so it steamed.

Korra turned, and, seeing that Noatak's expression was still dubious, she sighed and moved toward him; a slow, graceful twirl on tiptoes ruffled both her hair and his. She tugged at the hem of her—his—coat, pulling it down further. She flushed a little, realizing that she had probably exposed more of her legs and torso than she would have liked when she bent in such revealing clothing. Then, she fidgeted under his gaze, filled with unreadable expression. "There's no earth on the icecaps, but I suppose that's three out of four."

"I should have realized," he said, half-turning away from her. Korra couldn't deny that the gesture stung a little bit.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," she replied quietly. "It was on a need-to-know basis and..." It was a flimsy excuse. If it was really on a need-to-know basis, he should have been one of the first. "I was scared," Korra said instead.

"Of me?"

"Yes," she admitted. When he started to turn away further, though, she reached for him again; this time, her hand folded around his. "It isn't your fault, Noatak. It wasn't anything you did."

"There must have been—"

"There wasn't," Korra said firmly. "The reason I was out in the cold for so long was because I was talking to Avatar Aang. He made me realize that I was being really unfair to you." With a firm tug and a slight squeeze that made her heart leap, Korra turned him toward her. Noatak simply looked at her for a very long time, longer than Korra was comfortable with, but she held his gaze with all the strength and reassurance she could muster.

"When you healed me, you heated the water with firebending. And when Kya broke up that fight between yourself and the village boys, she mentioned something about a title. I was too blind to see what was before me... but that doesn't answer my questions."

"Then ask them," Korra said. "If I can answer, I will."

"Truthfully?" Noatak asked, his gaze searching.

"Yes."

There were no words exchanged, but the atmosphere changed—Noatak's tense shoulders relaxed, his expression less severe, more open. Whatever it was that he was looking for in her face, he seemed to have found it, because he squeezed her hand gently in return. He must have been starved for human contact, Korra realized; the healers offering healing hands only, that dealt as much pain as they relieved, and with no friends to visit, she was his only companion.

Maybe the reason he and Naga got on so well was because they had so much in common—both with the potential to be dangerous, both abandoned by fate or circumstance, and both more or less rescued by a certain young Avatar.

"Thank you," Noatak replied. "And I will be taking you up on that, but for now, I really should find Chief Kya. She'll need to make sure you're okay." Korra released his hand in acquiescence.

"Tell her to bring my clothes," Korra muttered, looking away. Their faces flushed, equally embarrassed, but Noatak nodded. Turning, he was gone, leaving Korra alone in the room with Naga. Korra's thoughts churned as she absently set the floor to rights, burying the pool under ice once more.

Shivering, Korra turned her face into the fur-lined collar of the coat, inhaling deeply before she could stop herself.

"Oh, Naga," she groaned. "I'm in trouble."

Naga huffed softly and wagged her tail.

Kya entered with Korra's clothing in hand, lowering the curtain over the doorway so Korra could change in relative privacy. With her back turned to the Chief, Korra didn't notice that she was on the receiving end of a strange look due to her current state of dress. It didn't really matter—Korra knew that Kya had noticed, whether or not she saw the reaction.

"I'm surprised you let him stay, considering that I wasn't conscious. I thought that went against the Northern ways of, I dunno, chastity and purity or whatever." Korra hopped to pull up her pants and shrugged on her shirt.

Kya scoffed. "Well, I left Naga in here to guard you."

Korra looked over her shoulder and made a face. "Puh-lease. You left Naga because you didn't want to watch her."

"Oh, pish-posh," Kya replied, waving her off with a smile. "Don't fasten your shirt yet, let me check your back and chest."

Korra obediently hopped up on the ice table, letting her shirt hang from her shoulders and exposing most of her back. She winced slightly as the cold water made its way into her body (faster than what Korra would have done, but she knew Kya was busy and needed to be done quickly), but made no complaint. After a few minutes, she spoke up. "Aang told me to try to befriend Noatak."

Kya made a sound of acknowledgement. "And will you?"

"I think so," Korra answered. "He's... really, he's not bad. He's been pretty nice sometimes, actually... and if he does turn out to be the other Noatak, it might not be a bad thing to..."

"Keep your friends close and enemies closer?" Kya inquired.

Korra winced at the description, but the Chief wasn't all wrong. "I just..."

"Don't get so close that you cannot bear the consequences, Korra," the older woman warned, drawing Korra's surprised gaze as she looked over her shoulder. "A patient he might be, but this man is still a man. There are lines of propriety that shouldn't be crossed for a young woman, even if you're the Avatar. I know that my mother made an exception to the rule for you because of your status... but if you end up in any sort of predicament, Korra, the law will stand. Whether or not your duty to an arranged marriage was waived in favor of your training... if something happens, honor and tradition dictates that you will be married."

Korra pulled away from Kya, offended at the insinuation. "What exactly do you think I'm planning on doing, Kya? I'm not—not whoring myself out as part of some messed up strategy!"

"Then you must mind the boundaries, Korra!" Kya replied, hands on her hips and gaze steely. The Chief's expression reminded Korra strongly of Lin. "Your state of dress this morning was completely inappropriate. I accept partial responsibility for that, but..." She sighed. "Korra, I have no daughter, but I think of you as my own. Without anyone else to look out for you, here... I just want to keep you safe. I worry about what might happen if you get too close to Noatak."

"I'm not going to—" Korra blushed furiously, embarrassed and awkward. Flustered, she started to fasten her shirt, fingers fumbling. "I did have a boyfriend, Kya, and I'm not completely unfamiliar to—but I've never—I respect my culture, my heritage! I'm not a fool."

"But you are young," the woman stressed. "Young enough to make mistakes, even though you are an adult. Were you any other woman, you would likely have bore children already. Your will is strong, Korra, but the closer you get to this man, the more you will question your own morals. It's just the way of things. You were never meant to get to know him, only identify him. This situation is rapidly becoming more than we could expect."

"You—" Korra pulled at her hair in frustration, snatching up the fastening for her hair and trying it quickly. "What I do is my business! I won't do anything stupid, Kya. Besides, it's not like any of this matters—you don't know anything about our feelings; there aren't any."

"And you underestimate my words. I am advising you strongly, as both Chief and as someone who cares about you, be very careful. You won't know that you're in trouble until you're in too deep. You already care about him."

"I—!" Korra turned away, unable to meet the Chief's knowing look. "It doesn't matter."

"On the contrary; it matters very much." Kya's hands found their way to Korra's shoulders, maternal and reassuring, even though Korra felt unnerved by the gesture. "You're a beautiful girl, Korra, a beautiful young woman. You may think of yourself as a warrior first and a woman second, but this is the time in your life when you will learn to balance the two equally. Once you do, many men will bow to you; many already do. And even though your marriage may not be arranged, there will be those that offer their hands. You may even come to find that you want to choose one. You may not be of my blood, Korra, but you are of my kin, and the women of my family, of our family, are not the domestic damsels that many of the Tribes are. We choose our mates based on their ability to challenge us, and it isn't always easy to deal with, but it happens."

"But... your marriage was arranged, wasn't it?"

Kya chuckled. "Yes, Sinaaq and I were arranged. Chief Arnook, before me, never had another heir after Lady Yue's ascension. He favored my Uncle Sokka and if he'd had his way, would have made Sokka the Chief. Uncle Sokka had a responsibility to the Southern Tribe, though. When I was old enough, Sokka suggested that I become Chief of the Northern Tribes; he said that the North could use a woman to stir up their ways, and Chief Arnook did quite like me. He agreed, but also said that it would be best for the tribe if I were to marry a Northern Tribe man; easier for all to accept, he said. Sinaaq was one of the Tribe's most accomplished warriors, and our marriage was arranged because I chose him."

Korra was silent for a while, contemplating. "What made you choose him?"

Kya laughed again. "The day I arrived, he made it very clear that he would support me as Chief only if I could prove myself—the buffoon," she added fondly. "It wasn't a Duel of Honor, but we did spar in the plaza, hand-to-hand. I beat him quite thoroughly... and when I did, he asked me to teach him. Aunt Suki always found this particularly funny, and Sinaaq and Uncle Sokka got on famously."

Korra turned, heart clenching painfully—the fondness in Kya's voice combined with the phantom memories of people Korra had never met... it was particularly painful. The thought of Sokka brought on memories of awful jokes and half-baked plans, none of them hers, but all of them familiar.

And Korra couldn't deny that... maybe, just a little, she wanted that sort of companionship wrought with fond frustration and worthwhile challenge.

Kya gave Korra another knowing look.

"Is it obvious?" Korra asked with a sigh.

"No," the woman answered, reaching for Korra's other hairpieces and finishing the task. "And, truth be told, I don't entirely disapprove. I worry only because if he truly is Amon, you may be unable to carry out your duty."

"Aang said it didn't matter even if he was," Korra said very quietly. "That it would be worse for me to do anything rather than nothing at all, and that there was no use in stirring a pot already off the fire."

The Chief harrumphed, but didn't outright disagree.

"I don't love him you know," the Avatar added suddenly. "It's not like that."

"No, it isn't," Kya agreed. "Not yet." Korra flushed. "But you cannot build a relationship on dishonesty."

"I know. I've already told him... the truth about me. I'll tell him whatever else he needs to know."

Kya nodded sagely, then seemed to consider something. "When the time is right, you may benefit from talking to Elder Yuqin. She is... was the mother of Tarrlok and Noatak. She remembers little of herself now, but she remembers almost everything about her sons. They were her pride and joy. You may be able to learn something from her that could help in identifying our own Noatak."

"Speaking of identifying..." Korra started, turning back to her clothes and catching sight of Noatak's coat. She lifted it carefully, looking at the embroidered symbol. "This has the sigil of Healer Yugoda's clan. Why does Noatak—?"

"Elder Yuqin is Healer Yugoda's daughter," Chief Kya replied, sighing. "Her sons were the first males to be born to the line in nearly three generations—powerful waterbenders, naturally, and when you factor in their sire..." The Chief's expression was one of grudging respect. "I never met Noatak, but I met Tarrlok briefly before he left for Republic City, once very long ago. He was one of the most skilled young benders I have seen. He lacked in natural talent, but he was highly persistent. I respected that... But, anyway, when our Noatak was found, it was Elder Yuqin that first believed he was Noatak. She insisted that he have this."

Korra stared at the coat, gently running her thumb over the smooth, tightly-stitched sigil. "Does he know?"

"No," Kya replied. "Without a positive identification, I didn't wish to give him false hope. However, if no one can identify him anyway, our next best option is to do all we can to help him regain his memories. It's time to take steps in that direction."

Korra frowned, but nodded. It was a lot to process, but... if they were going to help him regain his memories... perhaps it might be a good idea to try to rule out what weren't his memories?

"Do you have a way of sending post?" Korra asked.

Kya blinked. "I have a messenger hawk, if that will suffice, but it will take time, depending on where you are sending to. Any great distance should be sent by ship."

Korra nodded. "Good, I'll do that, then."

The Chief raised a brow. "What exactly do you have in mind?"

In the final few minutes before Korra went to rejoin Noatak, her heart regularly was skipping beats in a way she knew couldn't be healthy. Whatever had happened between them this morning had changed things, and now she couldn't push the thoughts of maybe away.

What would it be like, she wondered, to truly become friends with the man? What would it be like to spend time with him simply for the sake of spending time; companionship for companionship's sake? Would the strange tension between them dissipate now that their shared animosity had faded, or would it grow stronger as they grew more used to the other's presence?

Korra had so many questions, the answers to which only time could reveal. As the Avatar, she should know the patience to wait, but Korra was not a patient woman, or one to idly waste time while waiting for fate.

What was it that she wanted from Noatak?

Friendship, yes—now that she had gotten used to the idea, she felt like a fool for not extending her hand to him before. It was her own prejudice on that matter that caused the rift between them from the very beginning. She had wanted so badly to see him as Amon so she would have someone on which to pin her blame, her hurt; the feelings that she couldn't deal with when faced with the idea that Amon was dead.

It was selfish, but Korra had wanted Amon to face justice—no, she wanted him to suffer. She wanted him to live every day of his life knowing that he had been defeated and that he was getting his just desserts for the things he had done to Republic City, Korra, and her friends. To think that he had just died without having to come to terms with his own actions, to not have to live with the stress and worry and fear the way Korra had—it didn't sit right with her. The idea that the creature of her nightmares was really just a man in the end, a mortal man who was killed by his own victim, his own brother... no, it hadn't sit right with Korra at all. She was so ready to believe that Amon was still alive that she never even questioned the possibility that Noatak might not be Noatak.

But now, Korra had to wonder—so what? What if he was? If this was the body of the man who had hurt her, but held none of his memories or motivations, was he even the same man? Was he not paying for his sins by being so painfully, gruesomely scarred in both mind and body, scars that would likely not fade for as long as he lived?

Was Korra really so cruel to hold her grudge and make him suffer, whether or not he was really the perceived monster under her bed?

Aang was right. Korra couldn't afford to hold onto such cruel intentions when she was supposed to be the one to save this man. She couldn't save anyone when she thought like that; not even herself.

She had no way of knowing if this man was Amon, was once Amon, or was never Amon at all.

Did it matter?

But if he was once Amon, he had the potential to someday remember, and it was her responsibility to help him do so.

Did she care?

Not yet, Kya had said, when Korra had insisted that she didn't love Noatak. Not yet, she said, like it was inevitable. That one day, Korra would love him, and that it was only a matter of time.

But there were so many things wrong with that—he was so much older than she was (but Korra was the Avatar, the very definition of an old soul) and he was obviously damaged (but so was she, with literally thousands of years worth of emotional baggage) and he had such a different way of looking at the world (but maybe that would help her to feel empathy toward those who felt differently than she did) and—

But, in a weird way, Noatak made her kind of... happy. And in a world, in a life where Korra was destined to see and feel so much sadness and pain in the name of helping others, was it so wrong for her to try to hold on to someone that made her smile?

Did that make her selfish? Or did it simply make her human?

Paused in the hallway just outside his door, Korra closed her eyes, trying to put these thoughts behind her, at least for a while. She knew that, if she went in now with this much of a troubled mind, Noatak would somehow know and try to coax the reason out of her. No matter what, Korra wasn't ready for that yet.

Okay, so there was some tension between them. It was nothing she couldn't deal with and work through. She would be fine.

Korra rounded the doorway and stepped inside, stance confident and head held high—unaffected. And it worked so well, too; at least until Noatak saw her enter and smiled like she was the best thing he'd seen all morning.

Fine.

Right.