Breaking the Wheel

Chapter 5

When their cell had finally come to an inn after their escape, P'Li had led Zaheer upstairs by the hand, and Ghazan had given him a surreptitious thumbs up as they passed in the hallway.

She'd demanded that Zaheer not leave her sight as she bathed, so he had sat, with his back to the tub, and talked to her as she'd teased the knots and grime from her hair.

They had been shy at first, like teenagers. He'd been surprised to see his own hands shaking as he'd undone his jacket, after being so sure for so long. Would she still want him, grey hairs and all? He had seen same uncertainty in her eyes, but she was still beautiful to him. It wasn't that her physical form was irrelevant, but that it was P'Li. The lines around her eyes, the frostbite marks around her wrists from her cold prison- these were not imperfections but simply a part of her. He saw her, and she was beautiful.

Later, she had draped herself over him, her legs too long for the bed, her face pressed against his neck. He had put an arm around her, holding her hand, and she had mumbled that he was warm.

---

Zaheer came to in a sitting position, and the soreness in his throat was not entirely down to the noxious fumes he had breathed. There was a reason he rarely chose sleep instead of meditation, but this time his exhausted body had demanded it. He rubbed his face, his cheeks flecked with pinpoint blisters where flecks of the hot ash had touched his skin. His kidneys hurt too, with the dull ache of dehydration, but the only water was the bottle that the Avatar carried, and she would need it to heal herself.

When he had first inspected the tunnels, he had expected them to be the work of badgermoles, or White Lotus earthbenders, making a secret entrance to his prison complex. Instead, they were strange, their walls smooth and curved. A skilled lavabender had made them at some point in the past, melting the earth in their path and allowing it to solidify into glass, and studding the walls with crystal that cast a faint green light. Roku, perhaps, or Kyoshi. Certainly the previous Avatars had made enough enemies to warrant a few boltholes here and there.

The current Avatar lay a few feet from him, on her side on the floor of the tunnel, her breathing shallow and the burnt side of her face exposed to the air.

Had saving her been the right choice, or was he simply clinging to his own life? Either way, he had only so long to win her over before she handed him back to the White Lotus. He doubted that dragging him around behind her like an oversized balloon held much appeal for her.

He had hurt her, badly, and gaining her trust would be difficult, but Zaheer had long since learned not to discount things that others deemed impossible.

"What... where am I?" the Avatar murmured as she woke. "Zaheer!"

Korra's eyes flew open, and Zaheer threw himself to the ground, barely avoiding the ball of fire that hurtled towards him. The chain between them pulled tight, keeping him dangerously close.

"Control yourself," he grunted, rolling out of the way of an earth spike. The Avatar yanked the chain, dragging him towards her, and Zaheer lurched forwards, catching her fist with his palm mid earthbend. "Stop!"

She jerked her hand back as if it had stung her, shuddering as her eyes cleared. "Zaheer," she repeated, looking down at the chain that joined them.

The Avatar yurned away from him and touched her face gingerly, hissing with pain as her fingertips brushed the raised flesh of the burn.

Zaheer composed himself, brushing the rubble from his rags before he spoke.

"I got us out of there," he said. "I can feel the air currents that lead back to the surface, but I won't get far if I'm carrying you. Can you walk?"