A comfort food for every occasion. Well, maybe not every occasion.
After the Equalists' attack on the pro-bending arena, Korra doesn't visit him for weeks.
He doesn't blame her. After all, he'd not only terrorized thousands of civilians and caused several million yuan worth of damage, but he'd destroyed a number of police blimps and (unintentionally) killed several officers in the process.
He can already see the argument playing out in his head.
"You didn't need to kill those people in the blimps!" she screams, tears streaming down her face. "They weren't trying to kill you! They were just trying to do their jobs and keep everyone inside the arena safe! What the hell were you thinking?"
"As usual, Avatar, your refusal to face the facts reflects an overall lack of intelligence," he snarls. "This is a war. War requires battles, and we have already had a battle or two, haven't we? And when battles occur, casualties happen – even when you aren't actively trying to kill your opponents." His eyes narrow. "And there will come a day when you or I or someone else stokes the flames of this conflict; the violence will erupt, and then you will understand what killing truly is."
"Is that really how you feel, Amon?" Korra's eyes spring to life as fire erupts in her hands. "Then I guess our relationship is over." She rushes at him, intending to subdue, maim, kill…he doesn't know.
His response, on the other hand, is clear.
He stretches out his hands and a horrified Korra is bloodbent into submission. "Yes, Avatar," he says coldly, advancing on her. "It is."
He lays his thumb on her forehead, ignoring her terrified expression and…
He shudders at the darkness of his own thoughts – an opportunity he would have relished mere months ago was now an unwelcome possibility.
His mood is not improved by the news that Hiroshi Sato has been exposed as an Equalist sympathizer. Then Chief Beifong resigns and Tarrlok begins to consolidate more and more power for himself.
He has long thought that if Lin Beifong were ever to vacate her role as police chief, the departure would create the necessary power vacuum for his brother to implement plans to crack-down on the non-bender population; Tarrlok's lust for power and control (a sensation he was all too familiar with) would likely cause him to push too hard and too fast, finally giving the Equalists a legitimate reason to remove him from power and flaunt his debending as a move for justice and equality.
Instead, his younger sibling continues to move in very subtle and piecemeal steps. Perhaps I no longer know him as well as I thought, he grumbles to himself.
As for Korra…well…
He prays that she doesn't come back to the den.
He returns from a raid on some remnants of the Red Monsoons to find the Avatar sitting at his desk. He instantly freezes, fearing that she'd broken the locks and rifled through all the drawers, hidden or otherwise.
"Don't worry, I haven't been snooping around. Those are the rules, right?" she snaps bitterly.
"Avatar…" he begins, but Korra holds up a hand to stop him.
"Look…I just needed some time to think about…what happened. All of it." She pauses. "Sorry about Hiroshi Sato."
"You're no sorrier about Hiroshi than I am about the arena attack," he states, crossing his arms.
"Yeah," she admits defiantly. "I'm not sorry." She rises from the desk and stands before him. "Look," she sighs, "we both knew that things would probably turn out like…this. Just like all the dark chocolate." She smiles sadly. "In truth, I should just curse you to your face, walk out of here, and prepare myself for our inevitable 'showdown of destiny…' which, given my current level of ability – as much as it pains me to admit it – you'll probably win."
He is stunned by the confession. Thankfully the mask obscurs the look of shock on his face.
"But the problem is…I can't walk away from this. I need…this. You get me. You get me in a way that few people ever have. I mean, Tenzin and Lin understand the whole 'responsibilities' and 'burdens of power' and 'living up to the legacy of their predecessors-'"
He wants to point out that so does he, but remains silent.
"-but you get me. Korra. The weird girl from the Southern Water Tribe who tells bad jokes and burps really loudly. The girl who likes walking in the snow without a jacket and loves dancing to jazz music. The girl who just wants to make a difference and have fun doing it. And ironically the only guy my age who really gets that girl, I have no interest in." She laughs bitterly. "Instead I go after his brother – who's dating my best friend, by the way-" (Wait, what did she just say?) "-because it's easier than owning up to the fact that I'm fucking my nemesis on a regular basis and enjoying it. Because it's easier than owning up to the fact that I enjoy being with you, in every sense of the word. And I know things are only going to get worse – not just between the Equalists and the city, but between you and me – and I still can't walk away."
She takes two steps backwards. "But I'm not ready to let you in again – in any sense of the word – just yet. We need to talk about this. But not right now. I'm already late as it is." She heads for the door.
"But how-" he stutters.
"We'll figure something out." And just like that, she's gone.
He's sitting in the booth and already he regrets ever coming up with this hare-brained scheme.
This is the single dumbest idea you've ever had, he thinks to himself.
Which one? says a nasty little voice in his head. The idea of meeting the Avatar in broad daylight? Or the idea of not wearing your makeup and having that little secret blown to bits?
Republic City knows Amon as a man whose face was scarred by firebending, he hisses back. What else was I supposed to do? Walk around with a fake burn and draw suspicion?
Lots of people have scars. You could get away with it.
Maybe before the arena bombing. Now there's not a chance in hell that running into a cop won't make him or her tail me out of paranoia. I don't need that.
Fair enough, the voice conceded. But that still begs the question: why even come out in the open at all? You could have gotten take-away, picked up a bunch of noodles and brought them back to the lair.
We need to have this discussion on neutral ground.
Really?
Okay, she needs to have this discussion on neutral ground. Having it out in my quarters…it gives me too much of a psychological advantage.
And this is a bad thing…why?
This talk isn't just about the oppression of nonbenders, it's about us.
So it's an us now, is it?
You want me to spell it out? It's not just about the sex. Our relationship is more…substantial. More complicated. Our…goals…are complicated.
And by "goals" you mean your burgeoning feelings of looooooove…
I don't love Korra.
And I think differently.
No you don't. You're in my head. I tell you what to think.
No, Noatak. I tell you what you don't want to hear.
His internal squabble ends once Korra walks into the restaurant. To her credit, she does not betray any sort of emotion after seeing his unscarred face, but merely slides into the seat next to him.
"We can talk more quietly this way," she says flatly.
"Agreed," he answers quietly.
She glances around. "The place isn't as full as I thought it'd be."
"Late afternoon's a good time for things like this – after the lunch rush but before the dinner crowd. I've always liked this back corner. We should have plenty of privacy."
"You've been here before?" says Korra, surprised.
"Narook's makes the best seaweed noodles in the city. It'd be a crime not to eat here at least once." He smiles. "And he always has the best rice wines."
Korra glances at his face. "Somehow, I'm more disappointed than surprised. About the scar, I mean. Or should I say lack thereof."
His smile fades. "You can't honestly expect me to claim I was attacked by a firebender and not have the marks to prove it," he growls.
"No, I guess not. Amon-" she begins, but stops when she notices a server approaching their booth. They both rattle off their orders: the large noodle bowl (duck for Korra, pork for Amon) and rice wine; dessert is ice cream for Korra, a sea prune tart for Amon.
As the girl leaves to pass on their selections to the chef, she gives Korra a knowing look. "I must say…that's a pretty hot date you have, Avatar," she says with a blush.
"Oh, he's not a date," answers Korra, patting Amon on the shoulder. "Relative. Uncle on my dad's side. Was passing through the city and wanted to grab a bite with his niece." Korra jabs her thumb at him. "Bit hard of hearing, this one. It's why I'm sitting next to him as opposed to…"
"Ah, say no more," says the serving girl, giving him a sympathetic look as she walks away.
Korra ignores his look of annoyance. "As I was saying," she says, quietly clearing her throat. "Amon…what are we doing?"
"I thought we were having a late lunch," he responds weakly.
"You know damn well what I mean."
"Fine. I have no idea what we're doing, Avatar," he confesses. "And though we seem to be flogging a dead eel-hound at this point, it's not going to get any easier for either of us. I won't stop the revolution just as you won't stop in your quest to 'bring balance' to Republic City." He looks at her intently. "The Equalist movement will continue to grow. The council will continue to push back. And then the boiling point will be reached, and the city will be engulfed in open warfare. I've been planning this for several years after I realized that politics would not be the solution." He lays his hand on her shoulder. "People will die, Avatar. Again, this is not my intention – I wish to equalize the bending populace, not slaughter it. But people will die. Maybe you. Maybe me," he admits.
"And what if I don't want people to die?" says Korra defiantly.
"The realities of war demand-"
"Then don't go to war!"
"We have no other options left!"
"Then I'll make you see that there are other options!" barks Korra, eyes ablaze. "Please," she begs, her voice softening, "give me some time. We can work out a solution…for the sake of everyone in this city, please."
He opens his mouth to say "no," to draw a line in the sand, but the words tumble from his lips before he can stop them. "Alright, Avatar. I will halt our current escalation." His eyes narrow. "But I will not stop cleansing the bending criminals of the city, and you will not make any moves to stop me. Additionally, you will end your involvement with Tarrlok's task force. I know the arena attack spurred you to rejoin, but I cannot have the two of you working in tandem. What he does on his own foolish notions is his business," (and I will deal with him eventually) "but any further participation from you and the deal is off. Make whatever excuses you find necessary. Is that acceptable, Avatar?"
Korra grits her teeth in frustration but nods her consent.
"Thank you. I realize I ask a lot."
"And what about-" she begins.
"After we eat," he says, interrupting. "Let's not ruin our appetites."
The noodles are just as delicious as he remembers. Pork is not, strictly speaking, traditional water tribe fare (as he well knows), but importing fresh seal meat from the poles is expensive, and most people in Republic City wouldn't care for it anyways. Still…
*SLURP*
He looks over at Korra and glares. "Manners, please," he says with annoyance.
"Silence. I'm trying to enjoy the noodles," whispers Korra before inhaling another mouthful.
"Were you brought up or dragged up?" he barks indignantly.
"I have a polar-bear dog for a pet," she responds blithely between bites. "Only way I could tame something as wild as that is if I was even wilder." She lifts the bowl to her lips and makes a point of slurping down the remaining broth as audibly as possible. The noise is so loud that it draws the eyes of the few customers currently in the restaurant.
As Korra puts the bowl down, her "bite me" expression is so comical that his anger melts away and he bursts out laughing. She starts punching him in the shoulder, but soon enough the Avatar is laughing as well.
After their desserts are brought out and both parties quietly dig into them, Korra decides it's time to revisit the question. "So…what about us?" she pries between bites of ice cream.
"About us…well…" He hesitates. "There are…advantages to keeping our current relationship as is. Open channels of communication between the sides, for one. And it gives us something tangible on which to focus our attentions, not just the esoteric notions that drive both our ideologies."
"I figured you'd be a big fan of the esoteric."
"You can't see the esoteric. You can't hold it in your arms, dry its tears, hear its cries for help. That requires a human element. My cause may be justice and equality, Avatar, but I didn't start this revolution for justice or equality's sake. I did it because I knew people affected by bending oppression. And their stories affected me." He smiles. "Tell me this Avatar: if I hadn't kidnapped that earthbender friend of yours, would you have gotten involved in this conflict as soon as you did?"
"Of course – I have a responsibility as the Avatar-"
"-which is why you headed straight for the probending arena, of course. An Avatar's responsibility," he sneers.
"I would have fought you eventually!"
"Only after I'd made my moves on the city. If you'd truly been interested in stopping the Equalists you would have been after me the second you stepped foot in the city. You'd have signed on with Tarrlok's task force the moment he asked you, despite the fact that he's an asshole of the highest order." He leans in. "I heard about all the excuses – 'I have probending, I have airbending training.' You didn't want to admit the truth, Avatar – until Tarrlok made it personal at the dinner party, you just didn't care. Until little Bolin was snatched away, you just didn't care. And until I was standing over the bodies of my neighbor's three dead children, I was just a man trying to live my life in peace and I just didn't care about the crimes of the bending elite."
He feels an odd sense of satisfaction and guilt at the crestfallen expression on Korra's face. "I'm sorry, Avatar," he adds quickly. "I did not mean for this discussion to get so philosophical. And so completely off topic."
"I'll say," is her only response. Clearly his words had left a mark.
"Look," he says, taking a sip of his wine, "all of the political bullshit aside, you want this…whatever this is…and so do I." He surprises them both by laying a hand atop of hers. "So we don't stop. We keep going until our affair runs to its bitter, teary end." The right side of his mouth crooks upwards. "And when the day comes to finally equalize you, I will do it with no regard to the time we spent together."
"Bit pretentious, don't you think?" she says, her eyes gleaming.
"You said it yourself…"
"Then I guess I'll have to train harder, then," she responds, slyly. "That way I can kick your ass into the ground without thinking about how much I want to ride you instead."
"Or be ridden?"
"I thought you'd have realized this by now: I like being on top. I guess I'll have to remind you…"
His face lights up.
"…but not tonight. I need to think about what we've said today. And I'm still mad at you."
His face falls again.
She suddenly sticks a finger into his prune tart and before he can stop her she's used the filling to draw a smile on his cheek. "Now I feel a bit better," she grins.
And funnily enough, so do I.
He pays for the entire meal. Korra tries to contribute, but he refuses to let her and things get violent. "Nonsense! You're my niece! Let me treat you!" he says as the stunned server watches him struggle to keep Korra's yuan-filled hands away. Once the bill is paid, the pair walk out of the restaurant and get lost in the early evening crowds.
"I should head back to the island," says Korra suddenly. "You probably have Eq- um, work to do or something."
"I do."
"Well then…" She turns to leave, then hesitates. "I know this is going to sound completely stupid and crazy but…I don't know…you don't…you don't have any feelings for me, do you?"
"…don't be foolish. This is just politics and stress release for me."
"Good, because despite what I said about 'letting you in' and all that, this is just stress release for me. Fuck feelings and fuck politics," she responds with a smile. "Well, don't bother to write. I'll drop by when I'm ready."
But as Amon watches her walk away, he thinks about something that both excites and frightens him.
It was the look in her eyes.
She was lying to me.
Which was just fine, because he'd been lying too.
Author's note: Remember, reviews and other feedback are always welcome!