the legend of khione || korra

like father, like daughter

KHIONE 

Khione had never moved so fast in her life as she hurried to her father's office in the freezing cold. She hoped to the spirits she was wrong, and Korra had taken a nice stroll instead. Maybe, she'd taken Naga to the park. Then, she saw the destruction that had befallen Tarrlok's pretty office, and immediately cursed the spirits.

Splintered wood and stone lay everywhere, the decorative wall bearing the water tribe symbol completely turned on its side. Khione continued to walk, placing her hand against the human-sized hole in the wall.

Korra had definitely been here.

Khione commanded the water, feeling it tug at her fingertips as it obeyed, flowing and freezing into a ramp for her to slide down on. Her father stiffened from the centre of the courtroom. She surveyed the damage done; the huge crater where her father stood, the pew broken and thrown against the walls.

"She came here to talk about your friends' current...predicament. We were attacked by Equalists," Her father said, turning to meet her eyes.

Khione stared at him coldly.

"Don't lie to me, father. What did you do to Korra."

Tarrlok looked up at the moonless sky, closing his eyes, and Khione's blood ran cold.

"What is wrong with you?" Khione demanded, her entire body shaking.

He turned to her, his face remorseless.

"Korra proved to be too much of a problem. She knows the secret now. What do you suppose she will do when she connects the dots," He laughed dryly, clenching his fists.

For the very first time in a long while, fear flashed across Khione's face.

"Like father, like daughter."

"I hate you," Khione said coldly, and her father flinched.

"You made me just like you, a bloodbender," Khione was shaking, tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

"I made a mistake," Her father looked at her, his face more sincere than she'd seen in years. It was his attempt to console her. It didn't work. Khione felt dark, twisted fury seep in her.

"You made me a monster," She snarled, her words overflowing with venomous hate.

"Bring Korra back, right now," She insisted.

"I can't. I'm trying to protect us. To protect you, why can't you see that?" 

"Protect me?" Khione laughed, the sound jagged and devoid of any humanity.

"All you've ever done is hurt me."

Tarrlok's eyes widened, before he turned away.

"Know that I tried to reason with you. Know that I'm sorry."

Then, he curled his fingers, and Khione cried out, as that sickening control slithered over her body. They were like invisible tendrils, wrapping around her limbs, her body, her throat. She felt her own twisted power rise in her, the rush of power and the shameful temptation to use it. 

Pain rose like a crescendo in her body as he forced her to her knees. She was crying now, as memories overwhelmed her; her father's proud face, the full moon in the snow, a girl sprawled on the snow, convulsing in pain. And the worst feeling of all, that terrible helplessness that had plagued her all those years.

He closed his fists, remorse washed over his face. Khione collapsed, her head cracking against the stone ground.

"I'm sorry."