White Knight
5.

Before she falls, the Avatar catches her.

The ice beneath their feet travels on for miles. Seracs, coated in white, rule the skies; puffy clouds touching the tips. Everywhere she turns, there's snow; pure, and beautiful. The sun has descended below the peaks, casting a shadow across the landscape. A silent, gentle breeze runs through her hair; a cold bite, enough to make her shudder.

A smile reaches her lips. Korra is laughing at her lack of balance, and witnessing her like this, at home––it's special. Perhaps a gift the Avatar rarely enjoys nowadays. Everybody misses home. Be it a place, a thing or a person.

Due to it being a temperature she's accustomed to, Korra doesn't notice the chill. Her blue, heavy overcoat is enough to defend her from the cold. However, being born in the Fire Nation, Asami doesn't cope as well as her partner does.

With ease, Korra glides across the ice. She takes Asami's hand, encouraging her to follow, turning to watch in case she slips again. There's this adoring look in her eye. She gazes at Asami so warmly, Asami feels close to blushing. Pressing her heels into the ice, Korra stops, holding Asami around the waist. She's still grinning, still amused that this bright, skilled engineer has such awful balance.

'Don't get cocky.'

Korra snickers. 'I wasn't expecting much from you, anyway.'

Asami punches her arm playfully, which only results in Korra laughing again. It's such a wonderful sound, echoing around them. Asami leans into her, resting her head on her shoulder. 'You're awful,' she murmurs. Korra tightens her embrace.

'That the best you got?'

Asami twitches a smile, but doesn't answer. She idly plays with the fur around Korra's lowered hood, pressing into her just a little more to absorb her heat. But, eventually, the temperature no longer becomes an issue. Korra is warm. And she's soft, lovely to touch and rest against. In her arms, Asami studies the landscape, the high mountains; frozen water.

'I used to create fountains from the lakes.'

Frowning, Asami raises her head to look at her. 'What do you mean?'

'Let me show you.'

Asami widens her in horror when she realises Korra is about to Waterbend. 'No, wait––!' However, when the ice cracks, neither of them fall into the water. Korra manages to break the ice from behind, and it's a clean, definite slice. Without allowing the water to rest, Korra releases Asami and her hands seem to telekinetically lift the liquid.

It is fascinating, watching her bend; how the water becomes a part of her, so easy to manipulate in her gentle grip. Asami watches the water rise, before shooting into an elegant fountain. Water bursts from the crack, and Asami gasps when small drops fall around her. The fountain continues to burst with cold water, a deep, gorgeous blue.

'How do you do that?' She whispers, more to herself.

Korra hears her, though. She smiles crookedly, motions her left hand forwards. This causes water from the fountain to travel towards her, and she manipulates it to swirl around Asami, a little like a dance. Curious, Asami reaches out, and the water rushes past her fingers; waves splashed across her palm. She laughs quietly in disbelief. Many times she has witnessed the multiple kinds of bending, but like this, and so personally––it honestly takes her breath away.

Suddenly, the water departs, returning to the fountain Korra has allowed to leave be. 'But that was nothing,' she says. 'Could do that when I was a kid.'

'Show off.'

'Wh––No! I'm no show off.'

Asami rolls her eyes. 'Yes, you are.' She catches Korra by surprise, and kisses her. 'Regardless, it was––beautiful.' She watches the fountain, the water pit-pattering across the ice. Returns to look at Korra. 'You really are,' she confesses.

Beautiful. Utterly beautiful. Korra's bashful side gets the better of her, and she stumbles on her words. 'So are, uh––so are you. I've always thought that.'

It had always been there. How they'd notice each other.

Perhaps not romantically at first. But they noticed, and over time, it became more than simply noticing. Because when Korra performed all the elements an Avatar can manipulate, she was breathtaking. Entering the mental state only an Avatar can access had been such a beautiful, if not frightening event to witness. How the natural order of the world had taken ahold of her, made her a weapon, unbeatable––beautiful.

For Asami, while she is lovely to look at, it was about her kindness. Loyalty, if not stubbornness to remain by the Avatar's side. Even when Mako made a mess of things, or her father's words had started to make sense to her, she stayed with Korra. Witnessing the gruesome death of her parents, this amazing soul remained sane. Able to stand and move onwards.

They both fought. They both lost. They both recovered.

They healed each other.

Korra takes her hand, and guides her away from the ice. They reach the snow, and their boots dip into the powdery blanket; buried. Asami holds onto her, eyes wide in awe at the seracs which dominate the land. The sky has darkened. A heavy blue, stars littered across; the moon, just about to arrive, bright and wild. It grows cold quickly, and Asami shivers; white puffs escaping her parted lips.

The walk home is less than a mile. Korra has been offered shelter, close to where her parents sleep, but there is no threat this evening. The few inhibitions will rest peacefully, and it's such a delayed luxury for both of them. A light remains on in one of the huts, but, aside from that, it's pitch black in minutes. Asami follows Korra into their small shelter, wraps her arms around herself once entering the door; desperate to bring warmth back to her chilly body.

The Avatar takes sympathy. She leads Asami further in, closer to the unused fireplace. Korra kneels before it, quickly ignites a fire with a swift motion of her hand. Immediately the flames crackle, eating away at the wood greedily. The shelter is given some light, and Asami kneels beside her, welcoming the heat. She sighs, content. She has stopped shivering. The cold no longer has an effect on her, and the shelter turns cosy. Safe.

'I love it here,' Asami whispers.

Korra raises a brow, surprised. Flattered. 'Really?'

'Really. As you can imagine, my father wasn't fond of the Water Tribe––' she lowers her hands. Takes off her gloves. '––but, I'd always been curious. How you lived in such conditions. I'm very sensitive to the cold, but I do love it here. It isn't––' She stops. Bites down on her lower lip.

It isn't frightening here.

There are no maddened men, ready to burn people to ashes.

Nobody screaming in agony.

Korra softens her expression. She can't begin to imagine what Asami has been through. Not for one second does she take it for granted that her parents have survived so long. And Asami has nobody left. Her heart cracks, and she feels helpless. For this wonderful woman, she would give anything. Revive her father if she could. If it would make her happy.

While Asami gazes into the fire, holds herself against the chill, Korra reaches out. Tucks a few strands of hair behind Asami's ear, allowing her fingertips to brush her cheek. Asami inhales, closing her eyes. Scarlet spreads across her cheeks: warmth. And Korra imagines Asami's younger self. Small, like she was, lost somewhere. Watching her own mother die.

It was only a matter of time until her father would follow.

(Trapped in this fear of being alone. What Korra knows all too well.)

'We could stay here. Grow old.'

Asami smiles, daring herself to hope. 'Could we?'

Korra swallows, and even she knows she's talking rubbish. Asami has a huge business to run, and Korra has her own commitments. In this life, and in the next. 'Yeah. Why not?'

It is nothing but mere fantasy. Running away to the north, where their only company is snow, and the moon, and family. Where they could throw aside everything, their entire past, and just live together. Kneel by the fire, hold each other, every night. Grow old, as Korra promised. Grow old, and die together. Happy. Just happy, and that's all they need to be.

Happy.

Asami is struck by Korra's naïvety. How very human she can be if she allows it. Struck by how fiercely the Avatar cares, so willing to push aside the world, just for that one person.

One.

Her.

'I love you.'

Korra exhales. Relieved. Knowing. Completely vulnerable.

Asami looks at her. Blue, vibrant eyes. Small, childish smile. Faint, old scars written across her sweet face. This wonder. This beautiful, amazing, troubled soul whom she'd die for. The confession stays; Asami's words echo in Korra's mind, and she's lost in a daze. Lost in her. Lost in everything she is, and nothing––no emotion, no person, nothing––has ever amounted to what she is. What she means.

(Everything.)

There was a time when this woman did not exist in her life. A time when she just wasn't. Too far away for Korra to reach, to know, to understand. And that terrifies Korra beyond words; knowing there was a time in her life when Asami did not exist.

Pale skin, dark eyes, alive.

Korra kisses her forehead, hesitates; kissing her temple, her nose, her chin, and then she kisses her lips. Pulls back briefly, looks at her; shudders at the sensation of Asami's fingers through her hair. She bumps her nose into hers accidentally, bringing her in for another kiss. Another kiss. Stopping between, as if asking for permission each time.

When they break apart, reluctant, Asami exhales. Sweet across her cheek.

'You're really warm.'

Korra twitches a smile, thumb passing Asami's lower lip. 'Come closer, then.'

They find each other. Hands pressed to their clothes, removing them slowly; lips pressed to naked skin, searching; discovering everything they can about the other. Korra's palms are soft, delicate and hesitant as she peels away Asami's overcoat. She grins against her lips, amused by the amount of layers her lover wears, but it's wonderful. So absolutely perfect.

Nothing has felt more freeing. Korra's armour is stripped away, dented and old. Pulled from her back; dropped carelessly to the floor. She gasps into their kiss while Asami's hand gently squeezes her breast; brings her arms around her waist, tightening her hold on her. Korra responds with equal enthusiasm, taking away her last layer, and sending kisses from her collarbone, between her breasts, down to her naval. Asami sighs in contentment, and they tumble to the floor.

Korra spreads her palms down Asami's stomach, her skin so soft, like velvet. The Avatar has witnessed so many wondrous things in her life, but nothing compares to this. To her. She leans down, kissing her neck, biting gently. Asami stiffens, letting out a moan. The noise alone drives Korra crazy, and she catches herself smirking. Asami is so phenomenal, pressed against her, touching her hips, her breasts; touching her in places which makes her breathless. Startled beyond reason.

It's the warmth of the fire, the heat of Korra's naked body. Asami has forgotten the chill entirely, utterly safe. She holds Korra's face between her hands, kissing her deeply; her palm passing the curve of her breast, what protects her heart. Their limbs tangle together, so no room is left between them. Korra clenches a fist at the sensation of Asami's fingers passing her warmth, and she can recall just how this woman makes her feel. How delirious she makes her with the slightest touch.

They catch each other in another kiss, and Asami pushes Korra onto her back. The wood feels hot on her flesh, but she pays no heed. Asami parts Korra's legs a little more, before kissing her in-between. Korra turns her head away, closing her eyes; facing the fire. Korra's breath comes out in a shudder when Asami's tongue enters her, and she's never felt anything like it before. Never felt so with another human being; as if they were one in themselves. Together. Inseparable.

It doesn't take her long to reach her climax, and she cries out, back arched, and tugging. Asami kisses her mouth, looks at her; strokes her cheek, her chest, and she's wonderful. If there were any breath left in Korra, it would have been taken from her. She takes her, kisses her hungrily, and smiles. Words are simply useless.

Nothing, absolutely nothing, could describe what she feels for this woman. How much she adores her, needs her, loves her. In this moment, the world revolves around her, and Korra has every intention to attend to that demand.

They switch positions. Cradle each other, kiss and caress.

Still new to this, Korra requires Asami to guide her a little. But the moment she finds her, touches her, they both gasp; both stop, look at each other. Asami lightly kisses Korra's lips once; a signal of her consent, her want, her need for Korra. Korra's eyes flutter shut, and she breathes, rocking into her. Asami moans, sighs, strokes her palms up Korra's waist.

They are engulfed in each other. Stranded, yet found. Holding each other close, so close their bodies might burn. Together, they rock, discovering a pace. Tied. Korra opens her eyes, watches as Asami knocks her head back. Clings onto her, reaches for where her hand strokes her clit. Takes her wrist, pushing her closer.

Korra's heart is so near to bursting, and she quickens a little; but she's tender. Soft. Patient with her, allowing her to enjoy this; have this.

Give her everything if she could.

Asami's moans increase, and she throbs against Korra's fingers, whispering for more. Her toes curl and her voice spikes and in their beautiful solace, Asami's hand finds Korra's and she comes apart, a wail breaking from her. Korra shudders, letting out a moan, the euphoria drawing her into a daze. She feels Asami's palm against her cheek, and then they're kissing again. Korra falls into her, straddling her hips, her breasts pressed against hers; hands still holding tight.

They allow a brief amount of time to catch their breath. To recover. Asami brushes Korra's hair out of her eyes, kisses her nose. Whispers: 'I love you. So much.'

Poetry to her ears.

Perfection. And it is. It is perfect. Korra brushes her cheek against Asami's, closes her eyes, and they cuddle. Meet in another kiss, their hands caressing the other; before Korra falls back against the floorboard again.

They have each other. Over and over. Rocking into the wood, hands held, and the flames to keep them warm.

Snow batters against the window. A sound Korra has slept to on many occasions, and even finds peaceful. Tucking the sheets over them, she holds Asami from behind, her chest pressed into her back. Asami stirs, reaching for her hand. The room is stuffy from their lovemaking, but they're snug; cuddled up together like pieces to a puzzle.

'I love you, too. I always have.'

Asami turns. Just to look at her, touch her face; kiss her. She's loved. Loved. Completely. And it's simple; it's wonderful, and the joy in her heart is almost overwhelming.

While the last of her blood might have dispersed this world, family still waits. Family still holds her hand, cuddles her beneath the sheets.

And the Avatar's bruised heart is in the palm of her hand.