Summer, ASC 171

It's a beautiful day - the sky is vast and blank, the sort of blue that hurts your eyes, and there isn't a breath of wind - and Tarrlok is under arrest.

Behind Tarrlok is the Avatar, just a few paces back. Behind the Avatar is the temple where Tarrlok been living for the past few months. Ahead is a dirt path and a shabby wooden gate, carved with animals and hunting figures beneath a crescent moon. Tarrlok did offer to repaint the gate just the other day, but... Well, now he has more pressing concerns.

Beyond the gate is a road where Beifong waits, presumably with a vehicle to take Tarrlok back to the city.

It's such nice weather, though.

"Good journey here?" Tarrlok asks Korra.

He's been aware of her eyes on the back of his neck the whole time, and he swears that he can feel her blink. "Huh? I guess," she says.

Tarrlok nods, and takes the time to study the carvings on the gate as they pass through it. He probably won't be seeing it again for quite a while.

-

The fact that Tarrlok is under arrest doesn't bother him so much. You break the law, you get arrested. That's the way the world is meant to work.

What bothers him is this:

Why is the Avatar arresting him by herself? How is Korra sure that he no longer poses a threat? Perhaps he should just ask, though it seems a bit gauche.

"Is it really just you and Beifong here?" he says.

"Yeah. Why?"

Tarrlok looks down at his feet. The road is very close now. The path is coming to an end. He wants to count the stones beneath his boots.

"What if I'd tried to fight you?" he asks.

"That'd be pretty stupid," Korra says.

"What if I'd managed to get my bending back after leaving Republic City?"

He imagines that Korra narrows her eyes. "Attacking me would still be pretty stupid."

"Well, people do stupid things all the time, I'm afraid."

There's a small pause. "I think you've done enough dumb stuff already," Korra says.

Tarrlok smiles to himself, and looks up.

-

The road is just a larger dirt track that cuts through rolling green fields. The only sound is the chirp of the crickets in the grass; it's the sort of noise that could get inside your head and drive you mad, if you let it.

Beifong is waiting by a Satomobile, arms crossed, leaning against one of the front wheels. She looks a little bored, although her demeanour is still watchful. It's funny, Tarrlok wants to tell her, you'd expect the arrest of a bloodbender to be a bit more exiting than this. Beifong opens the Satomobile's passenger door and gestures inside.

Tarrlok almost says 'thank you', but Beifong has never had much of a sense of humor. He ducks into the vehicle. She slams the door hard enough to make the frame shake.

Korra takes the back seat. Tarrlok resists watching her in the rear-view mirror, quite sure that she's already watching him.

–

Beifong drives through unfamiliar countryside. Every so often, they pass through a town – they all look the same after a while - and Tarrlok watches the buildings rush by. He doesn't think of anything in particular. The Satomobile becomes its own little world, airless and warm.

No one speaks, though there's the occasional creak of seat springs as Korra fidgets.

Tarrlok's curiosity eventually gets the better of him, and he turns around and to look back at the girl. She has what looks like a piece of clay in her hands.

She pokes and prods the clay into different shapes. It would appear that she's making a tiny sculpture of a frog. A frog that looks as if it's been kicked in the face a few times, but a frog nonetheless.

Korra must know he's staring, but doesn't glance up. "What?"

"How much further is it?" Tarrlok says.

"Not much. Why, you need a break or something?"

"I'm fine. Just..."

"Worried?"

"Tired."

"We're going to stop overnight at a house near Fort Pixiu," Korra says.

Wait. Where's Fort Pixiu? Has Tarrlok heard of it before? "Oh. Now you tell me. I thought we were heading straight back to the City."

Korra now looks up and stares back at him. "Uh. Yeah. But the City is still another day's journey away."

They both peer at each other.

"You know where you are, right?" Korra asks.

"Well, I... Actually, no."

"How did you end up this far west?"

"I suppose I just followed Noatak. Amon. You know. Him."

Korra squints at him. "You never once looked at a map?"

"Why would I? I had no intention of going anywhere."

Korra stares for a moment, then shrugs as if to say 'fair enough'. She asks, "What have you been doing for the last four months?"

"Not very much."

"Huh," says Korra.

"Pardon my asking, but why are you making a frog?" Tarrlok asks, just to steer the conversation away from himself.

Korra holds up the tiny sculpture. "If you get the trick right, you can make it hop. Want to see?"

"Not particularly," Tarrlok says. How old is she meant to be?

"Suit yourself," Korra mutters.

Beifong just keeps her eyes on the road.

–

The roads get rougher until, around sunset, they head down a path that cuts through a forest, eventually reaching a small clearing. A siheyuan is huddled in the center of it. The building isn't too different from the temple Tarrlok recently left.

This must be the place near Fort Pixiu. Tarrlok racks his brain trying to recall some information about the area, but draws a blank. Fort Pixiu might just be one of those grubby little garrisons that the United Forces keep out in the middle of nowhere for training purposes. Or it might be something else. Tarrlok could wonder about it, but it's probably for the best if he doesn't indulge his paranoia.

Beifong parks the Satomobile by the siheyuan's gate, then points Tarrlok towards the main house. Her silence isn't particularly reassuring.

He continues onwards, with Beifong and Korra at his back, and does his best to ignore the familiar headache that's currently trying to burrow its way through his right eyebrow.

The siheyuan is clean and well-maintained, tastefully modest. The interior courtyard contains a patch of grass and two peach trees. The trees both look like the ideal of what a peach tree should be: their trunks slope artfully, and their branches have an elegant, sculpted quality. They're like oversized bonsai.

Tarrlok pauses before main house's open doorway. Korra nearly walks into his back. She mutters something that he doesn't quite catch.

Tarrlok can't see anything inside the house except a well-lit foyer with yellow walls. He steps into it. It turns out that, just to the side of the doorway, the foyer contains a few chairs, a wall hanging of a mountainside, and a a rickety little table. Sitting by the table is Grand Lotus Katara.

Ah. Wonderful.

The old woman is perched on a stool with her cane on her lap. She raises her eyebrows a little when Tarrlok comes into view.

Tarrlok has encountered Katara a few times before, albeit briefly. The last time they met was almost a year ago, at the grand opening of a hospital; there was a lot of smiling and bowing involved. Now, he hesitates in the doorway, unsure if he's still capable of being polite.

Katara. Of all people.

"Oh, there you are," Katara says. "Does anyone want tea?"

Before Tarrlok can say something stupid, Beifong answers for the three of them. "We're good."

Katara graciously smiles at them all. "Please sit down."

Tarrlok automatically does so. He picks a chair opposite Katara and does his best to sit bolt upright. Then he waits for an explanation as to why he's here. Lin remains standing, looming over his right shoulder.

Katara looks right at him. "You're sure you don't want tea? Is there anything else you'd like? Are you hungry?"

"I'm fine," Tarrlok replies, forcing himself to add, "Thank you."

"You're sure? I made some muqpauraq."

"Quite sure. Thank you."

"Well, you've had a long journey. Would you like a chance to rest? "

"No. Thank you," Tarrlok says, already starting to sound strained. Korra, meanwhile, sidles off to lean against a wall and pick at her fingernails. She could've warned him about the Grand Lotus, but no.

Katara keeps smiling, and keeps her attention on him. "Very well. So, I take it that you're sufficiently sound of mind to explain why you attacked the Avatar, tried to kidnap her - and she's a teenage girl, I might add, although I'm quite sure that didn't escape your notice - and then violently assaulted a group of people that included the entire Republic City Council and two senior police officers?"

A straightforward appeal to his guilt. Not a bad opening, all things considered.

Tarrlok's headache kicks up a notch. He becomes very aware of Lin's presence beside him.

Katara still watches him with glacial patience, leaving many things unsaid.

"I don't know how to answer you," Tarrlok says.

"Try."

"Anything I say will sound like an excuse."

"Say it anyway," Katara replies.

"I can't give a rational explanation because I'm not - wasn't - a rational person." Rational people do not sabotage their career by starting fights with teenagers. Of course, he's not very keen on using the insanity defense - if he has to choose between prison and the loony bin, he'd prefer the former, because prison means a nice fixed sentence and the prospect of being perceived as 'evil' rather than 'incompetent' - but it's not up to him anymore, is it?

Katara studies him as if he's something she's just scraped off her shoe. "Do you consider yourself to be a danger to others?"

Even after all that's happened, Tarrlok still wants to say, no, absolutely not, that's absurd, I'm the elected representative of the Northern Water Tribe, what do you take me for? But instead, he replies, "The record doesn't look too good, does it?"

"What happened to your hand?" Katara asks, without looking away from his face.

Tarrlok doesn't over-think his reply. "Incident involving a shock glove and a fuel tank."

Beifong shifts her weight from one foot to the other, nothing more. Korra stares quite shamelessly, as if Tarrlok is a very interesting traffic accident.

"And how did this incident occur?" Katara says.

Does he really have to talk about this right now? He'd rather discuss the attempted kidnapping. Besides, he's not sure if he's capable of giving the whole story anyway.

"Noatak thought he could make a run for it and start over. I disagreed," he answers. He doesn't care if he sounds glib. There are worse things to be than glib.

"I need more information than that," Katara says.

"I'd give you the sordid details if I could remember them." Tarrlok manages to hold Katara's gaze, although it's not him that's doing it, just his body, while his real self sits at the back of his mind and waits for all of this to pass. "I don't remember much after leaving Air Temple Island."

That's a half-truth, and Katara gives no indication of accepting it. "And how did you end up at a temple a hundred miles west of the city?"

"Noatak left me there. I didn't have a lot of say in the matter."

Katara lets out a little sigh of exasperation. "You're not helping your case by being evasive."

"I wasn't aware that I had a case. It's a minimum sentence of eight years just for bloodbending, correct? And that's without taking other charges into account."

"Describe what happened after Korra left you in the cell on Air Temple Island," Katara says, as if she hasn't heard him.

No, Tarrlok wants to say, I can't be bothered. The foyer is too small and cramped with four people in it, and the smell of the peach trees in blossom is nauseatingly sickly. Still, he has to tell the truth, because anything else would feel like another defeat.

He replies, "I'll tell you what I can. There were several boats moored at the dock on the north side of the island. I assume the Equalists had left them there. Anyway, we – well, Noatak – took one of those. I don't know how long we travelled for, and I can't remember what we said to each other, if anything. At some point, while his back was turned, I must've taken a shock glove and ignited the boat's fuel tank." There. That wasn't so difficult after all. He even managed to say all of that without crying or throwing up! Well done, Tarrlok, you're not a complete waste of skin!

"You intended to kill him?" Katara asks.

"What do you think?"

Katara repeats herself, slowly: "You intended to kill him?"

Tarrlok just shrugs. Strangely, he has to suppress a smile. "You haven't caught him yet, have you? People can't be very happy about that."

Behind him, Korra shifts her weight from one foot to the other, crossing her arms.

"How far out to sea were you when it happened?" Katara asks.

Ah. Now. See. If Tarrlok hadn't been raised to have such good manners, this would be the point where he'd tell Katara to fuck off.

"I don't know. Far enough that I couldn't see land," he says. "Look, what do you want from me?"

"I think you might be able to provide some insight into things. However, I need complete honesty from you. You're already on thin ice as it is."

"Insight into what kind of things?" Tarrlok asks. He casts a sidelong glance at Beifong; she's watching him carefully.

Katara ignores his question again. "So, how did you survive?"

"I'm not sure. The next thing I can remember is walking by a river." Another half-truth. He remembers more, but most of it is irrelevant and (especially) unhelpful: the smell of burned skin and spilled fuel, the onshore breeze, Noatak's voice as he tried to apologize. "Then we ended up at some village, and walked from there to a place called... Well, I can't remember the name, but we stayed there overnight, and then we kept walking west. We were some way past the temple when Noatak decided that he'd rather be alone, and he left me there."

"Why didn't you inform the authorities of his presence in the area?" says Katara.

What a good question.

"Because they're generally useless," Tarrlok answers, although that still sounds like a cop out.

Katara actually blinks at him, just once, very slowly. "So you chose to hide from the police, and let a wanted criminal walk free."

Tarrlok just stares at her. He almost expects himself to stand up, kick his chair back, and start shouting at her, all flying spittle and righteous indignation. Very dramatic, and completely ridiculous. But instead, he finds himself frozen in place.

"I tried to stop him," he says. It's so good how he almost makes it sound noble.

He wants Katara to say something that'll push him over the edge and give him an excuse to start screaming at her, but she just sits back and studies him.

"That's all I need to know for the time being," Katara says. "Thank you. Korra, can you escort Tarrlok to his quarters, please?"

And now she's dismissing him. How anticlimactic.

Korra takes a step forward, looking a little uncomfortable. As she should.

"So, uh," Korra says, and walks out to the courtyard again.

Tarrlok follows after her.

Beifong makes a 'hmph' noise while he's still in earshot.

-

Korra leads him to the west building, which contains a bedroom. There's a bed and chamber pot, a desk, a bookcase, and another wall hanging with some incomprehensible Air Nomad poetry on it.

Tarrlok takes a few steps inside, while Korra remains in the doorway, blocking it.

"If you'd told me the Grand Lotus would be here, I would've worn a clean shirt," Tarrlok tells her. He knows he's sulking, but he doesn't care.

"Sorry," Korra says, without sounding too apologetic. Was she ordered to keep quiet about Katara's involvement in order to catch him off-guard? If so, it worked.

Tarrlok wanders over to the wall scroll and studies the calligraphy. The poem is the usual nonsense about flowers and seasons, and the characters look a bit florid for Tarrlok's taste. "Why is Katara so interested in me, anyway?" he asks, although he can guess the answer.

"Bloodbenders are kinda her thing," Korra replies, then pauses as if she regrets phrasing it that way. "...I guess."

"I'm surprised she didn't tell you how to defend yourself against them," Tarrlok says, while still inspecting the wall hanging. "It's not as if the Avatar hasn't been attacked by a bloodbender before."

Korra pauses. Perhaps she's giving him a sideways look. As if she hasn't heard his comment, she asks, "Did you really try to kill Amon?"

The girl has clearly spent too much time around her Sifu.

Tarrlok keeps his back straight and his voice neutral. "Yes. You'd like to hear the gory details too, then?"

"People are going to ask questions. Standard, uh, procedure."

"I know," Tarrlok replies, then makes a weak attempt at explaining himself: "I'm just..." What? 'I'm already fed up, and things are only going to go downhill from here'? Yes, go on, Tarrlok, wallow in self-pity. You'd probably enjoy it. "It's not a topic I'm looking forward to discussing. Sorry."

He can't pretend to study the wall hanging forever, so he goes to sit down on the bed. Still in need of a convenient distraction, he examines the nails on his good hand. They are, quite frankly, disgusting.

Korra takes a slight step forward.

Tarrlok keeps inspecting his nails, and waits for her to speak.

Out the edge of his vision, he sees Korra tug at her arm band, then looks back at the doorway, then back to him again. Finally, and with what might be a great amount of effort, she says, "I'm really sorry I didn't stop him."

Tarrlok's first thought is to dismiss the apology. Withholding forgiveness is the only power he has left. But he's aware that he's acting like a petulant teenager, and it's a small wonder that Korra is willing to talk to him at all.

"What?" Korra asks peevishly, and Tarrlok realizes that he's now staring at her.

"It's nothing," he says. "I mean, it's alright. Thank you. None of this is your fault, though."

Korra resumes tugging at her arm band, and glances down at her boots. "So, uh, I'm going to go talk to Katara..."

"Well, I won't complain if my ears burn-"

Korra scowls a little. "I'll be back in a bit. You can leave this room but you can't go past the outer courtyard."

"I understand." Tarrlok could ask what might happen if he ventured out of bounds, but the question would give the impression that he actually wants to escape. "I won't be going anywhere."

"Okay. Fine. Later." Korra takes a deep breath, then steps out, closing the door behind her.

Silly girl, Tarrlok tells himself, though his heart isn't in it.

He busies himself with making a survey of the room.

The bookcase draws his attention, so he gets up to skim over it. Most of the books seem to relate to naval warfare in some way, though there are a few dusty scrolls on mathematics. Not very interesting.

He chooses a transcription of Northern military history, though the content of the book doesn't particularly matter. It's unlikely that he'll remember any of it anyway. The book is just a place where he can put his mind.

It's going to be a long night.

-

The next day, after he manages to drag himself out of bed, he ventures out into the courtyard and explores. He expects Beifong to be waiting for him somewhere, but she's nowhere in sight. He remains on guard.

He finds a kitchen in the southernmost building; it contains a water pump, so he washes his face to wake himself up. (Though he did manage to get some sleep. He's not sure what that says about him.) The water still feels very strange - it's lighter, less real, less tangible - but he goes through his usual mantra of ''I'll get used to it eventually'.

While he dries his face on his sleeve, he hears the tap-tap-tap of Katara's cane crossing the flagstones. She steps into the kitchen; she's just a blue shape at the edge of his vision.

As you can see, he wants to tell her, I didn't try to run away during the night. Bully for me.

Katara goes to a cupboard. From the sound of it, she's taking out some bowls. "I'm having mackerel pike for lunch, so-"

Tarrlok cuts her off. "Why do I have your special attention?"

There's another pause. Katara puts the bowls in a stack. "I'm sorry we never found your father," she says.

Now Tarrlok has heard two apologies in as many days. It's a little disconcerting, and probably manipulative on Katara's part. "What? Oh. That's not really an issue. He's been dead for over twenty years."

Katara turns to face him. Tarrlok gets the nasty feeling that she's studying him again, so he stands up and leans against the water pump, trying to look nonchalant, and adds, "And, of course, if you'd found him before he'd met my mother, I wouldn't even be alive to sulk about everything. I've always wondered, though: how much effort did you put into the search? Did you see him as a low priority because he'd lost his bending and therefore didn't pose so much of a threat?"

And now he's babbling. This is going well.

Katara leaves the bowls on a table and takes a seat on a nearby stool. "We put a lot of time and resources into finding him. However, mistakes were made. Did you ever read the case files?"

"I did." It was risky and stupid thing to do, but inevitable. "I've never put much stock in reports, though. They're only as honest as the person who wrote them."

"Well, then, there's no point quibbling over the details," Katara says. "No matter what was done, your father still escaped, and we failed to catch him."

"So you're now being nice to me out of guilt?" Tarrlok says, and realizes that he's smiling again. "Or... what? What do you want from me?"

Katara looks thoughtful. "Guilt is a factor. I owed you that apology. But my personal feelings are irrelevant. My main concern is finding your brother."

Tarrlok expected as much. "I'll help you if I can, but I have to say that I'd feel much more at ease if this conversation was taking place in a police station. What you're doing right now could be construed as an abuse of authority and, legally, I'm not obligated to tell you anything." He's aware that he sounds like a complete ass, but he's never been very comfortable with the White Lotus's habit of meddling in things.

"That's true." Katara regards him patiently. She seems much less prickly than yesterday. "Korra doesn't want you in prison, though, and I can see where she's coming from. She's the one who insisted that I talk to you. She's also refusing to press charges for the kidnapping incident."

"She... what?"

"Oh, she's partly motivated by political expedience," Katara adds. "She doesn't want it on record that you beat her in a fight and took her as hostage. She thinks it reflects badly on her. Not good for PR. Of course, you wouldn't believe the number of times Aang was captured or kidnapped - you could say that it's an occupational hazard - but the girl won't hear it."

Tarrlok mulls over this information. He doesn't find it reassuring. The prospect of prison always had a nice finality.

Katara continues, "However, there's still the fact that you bloodbent people while resisting arrest. Korra has... made efforts to discourage people from pressing charges, but she doesn't get the final say in the matter. You're quite a point of contention."

"I, ah..." Tarrlok falters. "I always intended to plead guilty anyway."

"Then why didn't you go straight to the police after Noatak left you?" Katara asks, and Tarrlok wants to wince.

"I intended to. Eventually. I just wanted a bit of a reprieve. Put it down to cowardice." Not a good answer.

Katara just nods, and sits back slightly. "So, are you willing to answer some of my questions about Noatak, or would you prefer to only deal with Chief Beifong?"

Well, silly as it sounds, Tarrlok still finds Katara relatively more tolerable. He might not trust the White Lotus, but it's not like he has much to lose.

Still, he can't resist asking, "Korra said that Beifong was in charge of the investigation. Does the Chief mind that you've effectively commandeered one of her key witnesses?"

Katara smiles. Don't be a cheeky little shit, her eyes tell him. "We're all working together for the common good, Tarrlok."

"Very well," Tarrlok says. "I'll answer your questions. But first you'll have to tell me what you'll do with Noatak when you find him."

"If he's taken alive, he'll go to trial like anyone else."

"Korra will take his bending, won't she?"

"If that's the most practical option, yes."

"I think he'd rather choose death over imprisonment, to be honest."

Katara raises her eyebrows. "Did he tell you this?"

"In so many words."

"What did you two discuss while you were together?"

"I remember telling him that he was being an idiot, or something along those lines. Unsurprisingly, he had no interest in giving himself up to the police." Tarrlok studies a crack in the flagstones by his left foot. "I'm not sure what I expected. He has nothing to gain by surrendering."

"You surrendered."

"I had less to lose. Fewer illusions," Tarrlok says. "Anyway, he made it quite clear that he'd rather die than return to Republic City."

Katara sneaks a quick glance at Tarrlok's bad hand. "When did he tell you that he'd rather die?"

"Some time after we reached the coast."

"Oh." Katara now frowns. "Let's go back a step. What did you two discuss before you tried to destroy the boat?"

Tarrlok has to pause and think about that. "Very little."

Katara takes a deep breath, and asks, "So what made you decide to kill him?"

She has to ask. He'd ask the same, if he was in her position. Even so, Tarrlok still considers ending the conversation and leaving the room.

Tarrlok opens his mouth to speak and lets the words sort themselves out:

"Alright. After I realized who he was, there was a short period where I thought, 'This is it. You've got him back. Everything else is mess, but at least he's alive.' His mannerisms are different, but he's aged well - he looks very similar to how I remember him, you know? Same eyes. He asked me to follow him, and I did. Anyway, while we were heading towards the docks, I stopped and looked back at the city, at the smoke from the buildings - and Noatak just kept walking. He didn't look back. Not once. And it would've been very easy for me to do the same: keep walking, forget everyone else, move on. I understood that I was capable of doing that. I understood that I was capable of lots of things, and so was he. And, I don't know, I suppose that was it."

Then he pauses, and adds, "However, it turns out that it's very difficult to kill a waterbender while they're surrounded by, well, water. Who would have guessed?"

Katara sighs and gives him a 'what are we going to do with you?' sort of look. "And it was after you reached land that he told you he'd rather die than surrender to the police?"

"Yes. I suppose." Now she's making him doubt his own memories. Tarrlok wants to hate her for it, but his confusion is his own fault.

"What did you say to him?" Katara asks.

Might as well be honest. "I told him that if he surrendered without a fight, he could use his knowledge as a bargaining chip. I know it was a weak argument, but it was the best I could come up with. And locking him up and throwing away the key would be a waste, wouldn't it?"

Katara hesitates for just a second too long. "What did he say to that?"

"Nothing. Just that he wanted to keep a low profile and live a quiet life."

"Did he give any indication as to where he was going?"

"Not really. He did say that he was heading back north, but then he seemed to change his mind about it. He didn't appear to have much in the way of contingency plans. I suppose he was in shock."

"Any injuries?"

"Some burns across his back. He, ah, he didn't look very healthy before he left me, so..." Tarrlok's mind wanders. He'd meant to kill Noatak cleanly. He thinks of all the botched kills he used to make during hunting trips, and how the animals would twitch and squeal before Noatak would snap their necks for him. "I don't suppose you could tell me how close you are to catching him, could you?"

Katara frowns a little at the question, but replies, "Well, it's a little tricky. A reliable witness reported a sighting of him in the Fei Cui Province, and then he disappeared. The Republic City police and the United Forces are currently working in conjunction with the local authorities to track him down, but... Things aren't progressing as quickly as I'd like."

Tarrlok is somewhat familiar with the Fei Cui Province. Most of the Triads imported various illegal substances from there.

"What are the odds that Noatak is dead?" he asks, without really feeling anything. Noatak did make a lot of enemies.

"I can't say," Katara answers, and sounds genuinely apologetic.

"If he's alive, then I have no idea where he is. I don't know how much help I can be."

"Could you write down a report on what happened after you were caught by the Equalists?" Katara asks. "You know how these investigations go: sometimes we appreciate all the information we can get, regardless of whether it seems relevant or not."

You're desperate, then, Tarrlok thinks. He makes an effort to keep a neutral expression. Mulling over everything and writing it down on paper might be even less pleasant than actually talking about it. "If you want. Sure."

He evidently doesn't do a very good job of hiding his thoughts, because Katara gives him a long look, and says, "I realize that none of this is easy for you. In many ways, I'm making things worse, aren't I?"

"You don't owe me anything," Tarrlok says.

Katara leans back a bit and screws up her nose as if she doesn't agree with that. "I owe you basic human courtesy."

That's nice, but Tarrlok isn't quite willing to accept her whole 'benevolent matriarch' act just yet. "Even though I attacked the Avatar and bloodbent your son?"

"Even though you attacked the Avatar, bloodbent my son and Lin and several others, had innocent people arrested, used a terrorist threat as an opportunity to launch a vanity project, bribed and blackmailed a number of influential figures into becoming your personal Yes Men, and spent your entire term pushing policies I strongly disagreed with."

"I take it you voted for the other guy," Tarrlok mutters.

"Regardless, I'm in no great hurry to see you put behind bars," Katara says. "People never seem to improve much while in prison."

"You don't think I'm dangerous?"

"Not to me."

Tarrlok wasn't aware that he had any pride left, but he still bristles a little at her comment. Katara might look like someone's wrinkly little grandmother - she's so small that he could probably pick her up and throw her (if he was feeling suicidal enough to try) - but she seems like the sort of person who wields power easily. There's an effortlessness to her authority, and he imagines that she was born with this aptitude.

A while ago, he might've liked to flatter himself by believing that he and Katara had common ground.

Yet despite his envy, he still finds himself unable to dislike the woman.

"So now you're stuck with keeping an eye on me to make sure I don't do anything stupid," he replies.

"I'm afraid so." Katara gets up from her stool. "You can make up for it by fetching some pickled radishes from the top shelf over there. I'll need you to open the jar."

Ha. Fine. Tarrlok rubs some sleep out his eyes, then stands. The jar of radishes is in easy reach; he opens the jat by tucking it in the crook of his elbow. Behind him, Katara potters around, taking more things from cupboards. Perhaps it's the acoustics of the bare walls, but everything she does seems a little too loud.

"Do you need a hand with carrying things?" he asks. (Wait. 'Need a hand?' Did he really just say that? That's not funny.)

"If you don't mind," Katara replies.

Tarrlok goes to find a tray, and gets that unpleasant urge to laugh again. When you've discussed attempted fratricide before breakfast, who knows where your day will go from there?