White Knight
4.

Freedom.

That is the best way she can describe it. She sits across from her lover, hugging her knees, watching. In her own way, she has enjoyed observing Korra meditate. Although her work focusses entirely on the physical, the spirituality of the Avatar has always left her in awe.

It is as if her very soul has departed from this realm, and disappeared into another. Nothing can disturb her, and it is entirely her choice on whether she returns to her body or not. The philosophy behind it all perplexes Asami, but she understands what is happening. The soul and the body––while she might have considered them one and the same, they are, in fact, apart.

Seperated. Ready to disperse into another vessel once the original form has died. Korra has told her about Avatar Aang, the other Avatars before him––how they're all connected, all the same soul. The same self. A link, going back to hundreds and hundreds of years ago. Capable of communicating with each other, if in the correct state of mind.

Korra stirs, and opens her eyes––suddenly alive. Immediately she senses Asami's presence, and smiles at her. 'Hi.'

'Hi.' Asami looks at her fondly. 'Where did you go?'

'Nowhere far.'

Still seated in the lotus position, Korra offers her hand for Asami to take. Asami stands and walks over, intertwining their fingers, before leaning into her. Korra sighs, wrapping her arm around Asami's waist, resting her head on her chest. They stay like this for a while, holding each other.

As Asami delicately runs her fingers through Korra's hair, she realises this is what love must feel like. Tender in her palms, and constant––where this is nothing between them, but loyalty, faith––an intimate understanding of each other.

It's after the excitement, the frantic pulse; it's after the thrill of simply belonging to someone. This, what this is––it's mutual, whole and it doesn't demand anything. The sort of comfort which sends her to sleep; the security of knowing that when she wakes up, she won't find an empty space beside her––escaped in the night.

Korra has given her that. The only person who has given her that. Her mother is someone Asami barely knew, burnt to ashes before she was able to voice words. Her father, brainwashed in his ideologies, abandoning her over crazed politics. Any past relationships have either been for the sake of convenience, or a hopeless cause.

Love came from three strangers: two orphaned brothers; and a naïve, young girl.

Wisely, Mako advised Asami not to make a home out of Korra. He knows, firsthand, what it is like to love her; the complications which arise due to her own faults. And his too.

Making a home out of Korra wouldn't be a secure refuge; for either of them. The Avatar may create their own family, may find love, but the Avatar's heart is always pulled; always demanded by different elements in their life.

But Asami doesn't care.

The moment she walked into the spirit world with Korra, she knew exactly what would happen. She knew what falling in love with the Avatar meant, what that meant for her. Upon first meeting Korra, she might have hesitated. Might have reconsidered her options, and believed there would be no point in loving somebody who can't give her everything in return.

It isn't about that anymore. After losing the last of her family, after fighting a war; after waiting for hours and hours a day by the Avatar's bedside, praying for a recovery, it so isn't about the amount given.

They are inextricably happy together. They feel safe together.

And they trust each other.

It is something so crucial to any relationship, Asami just can't picture herself with anybody else. She has never endured loyalty like this. Because even if the Avatar has to be absent at certain points, that doesn't negative their commitment. Their desire, devotion; what makes them love.

'You've been thinking about him.'

This takes Asami by surprise, but perhaps Korra's assumption shouldn't come as a shock. The Avatar are very sensitive to emotion, especially that of somebody they are close to.

Asami sees no point in shrugging the matter off. She pulls away slightly to look down at her. Yes, she has thought about him. She has thought about her father, his death; how it seemed possible they might be able to rekindle what was lost. But he was gone before any opportunity like that arose. Her throat narrows, and she lifts her hand to wipe an escaping tear.

'I'll be okay.'

Korra isn't entirely convinced. She loosens her legs, and shuffles to the side, giving Asami room to sit. Asami does, and watches idly as Korra holds her wrist, her fingers gently tracing patterns across the back of her hand. It is oddly soothing; Asami rests her head on Korra's shoulder, and they're quiet for a brief time.

Until Asami breaks the silence: 'I'm relieved he didn't die like my mother had. At least it was quick.'

'What happened? To your mother.'

'A Firebender killed her. I was very small when I saw it happen. I don't really remember very much.'

Except for the stench of burnt flesh. The wails of her mother. Never her face, never her sweet touch; all which echoes in her mind is the sound of death. A rotting torment, fixed in the back of her mind.

'I'm sorry, Asami.'

'Don't be.' She raises her head, and smiles sadly. 'It's not your fault.' Asami drops her gaze. 'That was something my father couldn't grasp. The fact you're not all insane like that Firebender was. You've always used your abilities for good. I really liked that about you. It was one reason why I––why I had to turn against my own father. You were right. He was wrong.'

Korra wishes she had been closer to her back then, but perhaps it simply wasn't their time yet. Even so, she regrets not being more supportive. Not entirely appreciating the amount of loyalty Asami was giving her. Everybody around them was dying, and the person who suffered most was the girl beside her.

It's enough to break her heart. Watching her cry.

Be it about her mother, her father; be it about Korra nearly losing her own life as well.

Asami's hands are trembling when she wipes her moist cheeks. She doesn't look Korra in the eye; doesn't think she can bear to see her expression too. It would only hurt all the more. Her exhale comes out shaky, but she manages to find her voice. A little shattered, but strong:

'Don't die.'

Korra reaches for her. Kisses her cheek, her lips; her closed eyelids. The tears which scald her wonderful face. She holds her, pulls her towards her, and holds her. Asami presses her face into the crook of her neck, resting her palms against Korra's back. Holding each other, until it hurts a little less; until Asami can breathe again, stand and keep moving forward.

'I'm not going anywhere without you.'

Asami raises her gaze, smiles briefly––sad, but thankful––and lightly kisses her cheek. Brings her arms around the back of her neck, and cuddles her again. Korra responds, breathing her in; holding onto her until it's all going to be okay.

Until she knows, absolutely knows, that Korra has no intention to depart.

To abandon her. Just as Asami wouldn't.

'Come home with me––for a little while. Just a little while?'

For the South Pole, the white blanket covering the land; frozen waters, and icy ruins. Come home where it's safe, where family is; where they can be left alone for a moment longer.

Asami holds her hand.

With each other, they would happily go anywhere.