Dear Korra,
I can't say that I expected you to respond to my invitation with a letter, but I am not complaining. It is really nice to hear from you.
I understand why you can't come to my fair, so I don't want you to worry about that. As for the other thing, I suppose that you are right, it is a little strange that despite all we've been through we don't actually know each other all that well. But, I don't think that's anything we can't change, so I hope you write back. I am curious to hear about what you have been up to lately.
Happy late birthday, Korra. I missed celebrating it with you, so I guess you could say we're even now.
Take care,
Asami
Korra didn't know why she had gotten so nervous about how Asami was going to respond to her letter. When she first got the invitation to the fair Asami was hosting, she was touched that her friends even remembered her. She didn't know why they wouldn't, but it had been so long since she talked to them that some nights she genuinely wondered if they had moved on from her.
Of course, in typically Asami fashion, she took Korra's words with as much grace and kindness as was anticipated. Asami's ability to remain steadfast in herself in the face of everything was really admirable to Korra, and she figured that is why she wanted to talk with her more in the first place. She just seemed like a good friend to have with everything that was going on.
"Why are you not going to go?"
Katara's question was simple, but it still stopped Korra in her tracks. They had spent months in physical therapy, working on increasing Korra's mobility for the sole purpose of her being able to get out more and feel like her old self again. Yet, an opportunity to go do something different was staring her in the face and she was shying away from it.
"I just don't think I'm ready," Korra answered after a long moment. "Besides, Raiko hasn't lifted my ban yet."
"That would put a damper on things." Katara wet her hands in a pool of lukewarm water before walking over to Korra and cupping the sides of her face gently. Watching a cool glow spread from her hands, Katara said, "But, as much as I think you should get out of this recreation center, I am glad that you are not leaving the South."
"Why?"
"Because I think you still have much to learn about recovery."
Korra sighed forcefully. Weeks ago, she had stopped holding back her anger at everything, deciding that it would be better to let all her emotions flow instead of keeping them bottled up. Still, she always felt a little bad whenever Katara would frown at her outbursts.
"I've already accepted that this will take time and won't happen overnight. And that I need to look inward and believe that I have everything I need to get better. What more could there possibly be?"
"A lot," Katara chuckled as she moved her hands to Korra's throat and forehead. "Every road to recovery is different, but what I believe you need to learn is not acceptance, but action. What good is knowing what you have to do if you don't actually follow through with it?"
"Fine. I'll start working on that during our next session."
"No, it has to come from you Korra, not from you wanting my approval. Didn't Tenzin's airbending lessons teach you anything?"
Korra wrinkled her nose awkwardly. "They taught me how to be bored," she half-joked. Katara didn't exactly laugh, but Korra felt that the small smile that rose onto her face was satisfying enough. "But I guess you're right. I should maybe focus on other things besides being able to do this." She raised her right arm straight up and though it went up rather quickly, it fell back down almost as fast. Her endurance wasn't quite what it used to be.
"That is still quite impressive."
"Tell that to the baby that outwalked me last week."
Katara shook her head. "I told you to pay little Eko no mind."
"How could I when he was taunting me!" Korra leaned backward with a grin as Katara moved back to her pool of water. Though she rarely ever felt in a joking mood, it was nice to mess around with people again. For a long time, it was like everyone was allergic to having fun around her, but it really helped take her mind off of things even for a little bit.
"Well, that aside, let's end with something I want you to work on during your trip with your parents."
"Ugh, I have homework?"
"You could say that." Pressing a now cool touch over the places where her hands had been, Katara explained, "You mentioned having trouble knowing where to start with looking inward, so I've given a bit more attention to your throat and crown chakra. I am hoping that, with some initiative from you, they will help you with some self-reflection."
Having to spend who knows how long in the tundra with her parents already seemed like a not-fun idea, but now Katara was making her think? That was just too much.
"I'm going to have to tell you all about what I learned when I get back, aren't I?"
"See, you're already learning."
---------------
The night was surprisingly much warmer than the day had been, and Korra almost felt as if she could go without the thick winter coat gnawing at her arms. Almost. She had the distinct feeling that she would regret that choice the minute she made it.
Given that she had only just started making progress with her ability to move her limbs more than a few inches, Korra was going to be confined to the sled her mom had made her for the foreseeable future during their journey. Why her dad had decided to take her to do something she couldn't really physically do, she didn't know, but part of her kind of liked it. It was as if no one was walking on eggshells around how different she was anymore.
Watching her dad intently as he stoked the small fire he managed to make in the face of the biting winds, Korra couldn't help but furrow her brows. "What?" she asked. Her dad flinched, almost as if he didn't realize that he was staring, but Korra knew him better than that. There was something on his mind.
"You just have the same pout on your face Lemaya did this morning."
Korra felt a short jolt rush through her as her finger unconsciously moved to run across the braided thread tied around her wrist. "I'm sure hers was because of you, too," she joked. Tonraq chuckled and threw the small twig in his hand into the fire.
"What did I do?"
"You're making your daughter go ice fishing," Senna interrupted with a sly grin, a handful of frozen-over wood in hand. "You know how much she hates it."
"But she used to love it as a kid!"
"And now she's eighteen, it's been more than enough time for her opinions to change."
Her mom caught her eye and they shared a knowing look as her dad huffed indignantly. "See, this is why I said to let Korra plan this trip," he muttered to himself.
"Actually, you wanted to let your aides do it for you."
Korra smiled in amusement. "You were gonna have them compete for your favor in the selection process, weren't you?" Tonraq threw his hands up in defense as his wife and daughter both looked at him with almost identical raised brows.
"Of course not, that would be a crazy thing to do."
"And yet I bet if I asked my girlfriend, that is exactly what she would say."
Her dad playfully waved her off and reached for the slap of raw fish that they had caught that day, setting it over the roaring fire. "She would never."
"Probably because he avoids giving her any special favor when she already has so much." Korra stifled a laugh as her dad shot his wife a sharp look.
"No one told my daughter to go and date my front-running successor candidate."
"What, so it's all my fault?" Korra mused, tilting her head challengingly.
"Your words, not mine," he teased back. If Korra was able to call on her bending, she would have totally bent a flurry of snow her dad's way. Instead, she had to go back to the basics and dig her hand into the snow, limply tossing a snowball right onto his face.
Well, almost onto his face. It missed by a lot, but he got the gist. "Oh, it's on."
Her mom ducked out of the way as Korra and Tonraq traded snow blows. Korra's were more sparse than his given the fact that her arms kept buckling under the weight of themselves every time she raised them too far, but for once she didn't really care that she wasn't as good as she once was. Her dad still played with her like he used to, and it made Korra feel normal for once.
"Okay, I give up," Korra breathed tiredly, as she held up her hands before having to let them fall to her lap.
"Now that is a first," her mom chuckled, returning to the fireside now that the fighting had ceased.
"Yeah, well, a good fighter knows when to lose." Tonraq and Senna shrugged at each other, making Korra laugh. "It's just something I read in this airbending scroll Ikki sent me."
"I thought your airbending lessons were over?" her dad asked.
"I am, but she said it made her think of me."
Senna cooed, "Aw, that's so sweet of her. I hope they're all doing well."
"They are, Tenzin's got a lot on his plate with the airbenders, but he's doing great things." Unexpectedly, the thought welled a dark pit in her stomach. She tried to avoid thinking about things outside of her bubble because they always made her feel guilty for staying away. There wasn't much she could do for anyone at the moment, but still, the longer she was away the worse she felt for not being there.
She was the Avatar, after all.
---------------
One of the hottest summer days the South had seen in years enveloped Korra in a sweltering heat, but she paid it no mind as she buried her little head deeper into her knees. Hanue from three houses down had told her to get lost again, saying she couldn't play with them anymore since she always cheated.
It just wasn't fair. It wasn't her fault that they were no good at waterbending.
Dragging her palms down her cheeks, Korra tried to hold back the rest of her tears by holding her face in a tight pout. But despite her best efforts, they spilled anyway, and she was left curled in a tiny ball in the only dry patch of ground in the entire Western Forest.
Or, that's what she and the other kids called it. No matter how many times her mom corrected her, saying it hadn't been a forest in years since its wood was cut down to build the ancient city that used to be there, Korra refused to think of it as anything but.
It seemed like a pretty big patch of trees to her, even if she was small enough for a few steps to be considered a long walk.
Her head snapped upward as a branch broke in the bushes scattered around her. Looking wildly from side to side, Korra tried to figure out where the sound had come from, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. That was, until she felt something soft press into the back of her head.
Turning around slowly, Korra's eyes widened as big as saucers as she came face to face with a glistening polar bear-dog, its shining fur peppered in brown freckle-like dots. Her first instinct was to scream. The polar bear-dog was unfazed by her, though, and simply sat back, watching Korra curiously.
Korra honestly didn't know what to do. She figured the polar bear-dog might run away after that but apparently not. "Hi?" she asked hesitantly, slowly inching away. The animal in front of her didn't seem to get the memo and moved with her, tongue wagging as if they weren't scaring the living spirits out of Korra.
Continuing to back up, Korra figured that maybe if she just left everything would be okay. That wasn't the case as the polar bear-dog continued to follow her through the trees as Korra tried desperately to remember the right way to get home.
Her eyes still stung with tears, and she felt like it was getting darker by the minute. The wild animal on her heels certainly wasn't helping, and though it wasn't as if the polar bear-dog could talk and tell her which way to go, Korra still rounded on it and snapped, "Why are you following me?"
The polar bear-dog recoiled, a soft whine rumbling out of them. Korra felt herself immediately soften, a sniffle rustling past her lips. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that, Spotty. I'm just having a really, really bad day." She gently patted the polar bear-dog's head and sighed. "But I bet you're having a bad day too."
---------------
Peering down into the carved hole next to her, Korra wondered how the fish below felt about the ferocious way her dad had jammed the saw into the ice. On the other side of her sled, her mom had dug out a wider hole in a more clean manner, and she saw a considerably bigger amount of fish swirling below.
She supposed that answered her question for her.
Her dad handed her one of the rods that his aide, Ta, had made as a demonstration for his trade proposal for the elders. Korra had heard Lemaya mention his name a couple of times, but she forgot he was a builder. And that her dad actually worked with people other than her girlfriend.
"He wants feedback on this doesn't he?" Korra asked as she tried to hook the string on as her dad instructed her to.
"Not just Ta," her mother huffed between juts of her fishing spear. "The fishers think it could be a help, that's why they went to him in the first place."
"I don't know how the elders are going to choose," Tonraq added, handing Korra a piece of bait as she triumphantly grinned at getting the rod in working order. "Each of them have such good proposals."
"What if the elders change their mind?"
It was an absentminded thought, but as Korra lowered the rod wire into the ice, she realized that it had stopped her parents in their tracks. "What do you mean?" Korra shrugged at her dad.
"I just mean, what if things change? Something may work now, but in a few years maybe that person is no longer needed and they want someone new." She hadn't meant for her words to come off as they did, but she could tell by the worry creeping onto her parents' faces that they felt she was talking more about herself than anyone else. And it wasn't exactly as if she could disagree.
Shaking her head, she focused on trying to make sure her bait actually caught something and not her parents' looks. "I assume in that case the elders would hold an emergency council meeting," Senna hummed, trying to recall the things she knew about her husband's job. "Though, I doubt that would ever happen because our elders are rarely wrong. It's why we look to those who came before us for wisdom."
Korra sneakily rolled her eyes. If only that was working better for her.
Her attention snapped to the rod in her hands as she felt something tug on the bait. Behind her, she could hear her mom catching yet another fish to bring back for their neighbors to enjoy. Meanwhile, she had to resign herself back to the sled because it was only a strong current hitting her line.
"This is way more boring than using a spear," she complained.
"Do you want to trade?" her mom asked kindly. Korra was about to say yes when she caught her dad's eye and his hand cutting rapidly over his throat. She almost forgot that he always got embarrassed by how awful he was at ice fishing compared to her mom.
"I do, but Dad says no."
Tonraq grinned sheepishly as Senna whipped her head to him, a bright and melodious laugh ringing from her lips. "Well, your father can keep the fishing rod and we can share the spear, how about that?" Korra more-than-happily handed her tool off to her dad and scooted over to the other side of the sled. Letting out a few hoarse breaths at the ache that began to itch through her arms, she watched her mom silently to make sure she remembered how to do it. Then, she gently took the spear from her and waited for a fish to swim right beneath it.
With a swift movement, she managed to pierce the skin of a grey-scaled fish. The corners of her lips slowly upturned as she managed to lift the spear out of the water, but her arm began to wobble, and she cursed under her breath as the spear clattered onto the white ice. It didn't really matter to Korra that her mom managed to catch the fish before it slipped back into the water. Or that both of her parents tried to tell her that it happens to everyone at least once whenever they go out to the ice.
She still had failed to do something as simple as spear a fish.
Korra was much quieter on the way back than she had been at the start of her trip, and she felt guilty that she was bringing down the mood. Her parents barely said a word either, and though the silence wasn't awkward, it just wasn't how things usually were with them.
Digging herself deeper into the fur of her coat, Korra let her mind wander off. A distraction she felt was better than just watching the tundra weather fall away behind her. She thought back to the memory that had begun to play in her dreams the night before and wondered why it was suddenly coming back to her mind. She knew Katara had opened her chakras or whatever, but she wasn't exactly pleased that specific memory had wormed its way to the surface of her mind.
---------------
Korra smiled softly to herself at the faint hum of her parents conversing behind her, their voices loud enough to carry past the thick shell of the house. Naga snored underneath her hands, using her fingers as blockers to lantern lights sitting on the porch next to them. A quiet creak caught Korra's ear as Lemaya sat down next to Naga. She wiggled a plate of cake in Korra's face and said, "Want some?"
Shaking her head politely, Korra flickered her eyes down to Naga just as she shook one of Korra's fingers aside, pretending as if she wasn't eyeing the cake herself. "Ah, I see." Lemaya lowered the plate to Naga's level and within a second it was gone. Naga happily licked her snout clean as Korra let out a strangled laugh. "Happy birthday to you, too, Naga."
"She almost thought you forgot," Korra hummed while Naga settled back down in her lap.
Lemaya gasped. "I would never." Fishing around in her pocket, she pulled out a hand-made collar, fastening it gently around Naga's neck in place of the ragged one she had torn off herself a couple days before. As Naga flopped her ears around, Lemaya smiled. "I think she likes it."
"It's alright." Lemaya flashed her girlfriend a look before kneeling closer to her, taking yet another thing out of her pocket. Korra watched her as she tied a bracelet around her wrist with the same shades of blue as Naga's collar. Her face warmed as the distinct braided pattern for family gleamed up at her, its outlines drawn in the colors they believed represented friendship and loyalty.
Pressing a kiss to the inside of Korra's wrist, Lemaya said, "Are you ready for that surprise?" It had only been a couple weeks since Jinora's ceremony, and Korra was glad Lemaya hadn't left her in suspense for too long. Not that she was really in the mood for anything adventurous, but it would be nice to get out for once.
"Depends. Is it going to be as when we hung out last week?"
"I think I've outdone myself this time," Lemaya mused.
Korra furrowed her brows. What was she planning? "Does Naga get to come?" she continued.
"I think that can be arranged."
It had been the first time Korra had gone anywhere without her wheelchair, and she was honestly impressed by Lemaya's ingenuity with the saddle contraption she had come up with to keep her steady. Or, at least she had figured Lemaya came up with it.
"It was actually Ta's idea. I think he just made it so that he could get me out of the council hall and take a peek at my work, but I say it's not what you can do for men, but what they can do for you."
Korra snorted, feeling a rush flow across her face as Lemaya leaned closer to her back to pull on Naga's reigns. "You're—"
"I'd choose my next words carefully," she said, sliding gracefully off of Naga. "I am the one controlling whether or not you see this surprise?"
"Well, I don't know if there are any good things to say about someone who has either been lying about not being able to get off of Naga so I'd help her down or someone who has been hanging out with her without me."
Lemaya sucked in a breath, caught completely off guard by Korra's words. She began to stammer as Korra grinned, and she said, "That's not important right now."
"Oh really? And why is that?"
"Because look at the beautiful view."
Korra was about to retort, thinking that Lemaya was going to gesture to her own beautiful face, but when her arms lifted to the faint glowing lights beaming over the banks of snow, her words died on her lips. Light storms rarely happened, and if they ever did it was usually not close enough to the city for Korra to catch them. The last time she saw one was on the night she got Naga and there it was again, on the anniversary of that day.
"You remembered," was all Korra could get past her lips. Her eyes never left the sky, even as Lemaya fed Naga a treat to get her to lay down along the side of the tall bank they were on and then pulled herself back onto the saddle behind her.
"How could I forget?"
She could barely feel Lemaya's breath as it fanned her neck, and Korra wondered how different the moment would be if she could feel more than she did. She always imagined being able to see the light storm again, the way she would run to Naga and dash with her to the best vantage point in the South. But thinking of it now, all that welled in her mind was the bitterness of her not being able to do the one thing she dreamed most of.
"You know, Naga," Korra began quietly. She paused for a moment as she noticed Naga's ears perk up at the mention of her name, and a thickness lodged itself in her throat. "Your mother, Spotty, gave me the idea for your name because right before she died.." Korra licked her drying lips. "She brought me to you, and there you were, sleeping soundly in a rain puddle underneath the brightness of a light storm. I hadn't even known she was pregnant until I saw you even with all the times I visited her, but I think she wanted to leave me with something as blissful as ullaakuut sianaagaluk."
"Beautiful morning rain," Lemaya hummed behind her.
Korra's heart sank with a heaviness she hadn't known in a long while. "Exactly. You, Naga, are my beautiful morning rain. Even though I found you at nighttime. When I was supposed to be in bed." She didn't know if Naga understood exactly what she had said, but the low bark that escaped her snout and the sound of her tail brushing wildly through the snow told her that—at the very least—she was enjoying herself.
"Spotty?" Lemaya asked into the silence as Korra continued to watch the bright blues and greens of the fading light storm.
"I was like six," Korra protested. "Besides, as evidenced by this girl right here, I've definitely grown in the naming department."
"Funny how things change, isn't it?"
It was a harmless comment, but Korra had been thinking a lot lately about change, and she wasn't sure how she felt about it. To her, it felt like too many things were changing all around her, and she worried if she was going to be able to keep up.
"Yeah," she said after a while, a tired sigh almost rolling past her lips. "Funny."
---------------
"Did you have a nice trip?" Katara asked.
Korra let out a breathy grunt in response as she slowly inched forward, bracing her shaking hands against the railings next to her. She knew Katara was trying to keep her mind preoccupied so she didn't think too much about successfully making it to the end, but unlike the other times, she was not helping.
"I heard that Naga really enjoyed the fish you caught."
She faltered a little as her mind wandered to Naga, who she could barely look in the eye since she got back. For whatever reason she was having a hard time letting that dream go, and it was digging up too many emotions that she thought she had left behind her.
"I think she did," Korra bit back as she slowly pushed her left hand forward. Katara didn't say anything more, and Korra hoped that was the last of it.
But just as she found her rhythm again, Katara said, "Good, now slow and—" A mixture between a frustrated groan and a yelp of pain flew out of Korra as her hands lost their grip and she slipped between the thin bars holding her up. Katara rushed over to help her, but she flinched away, her knuckles turning white as they bared into the soft mat that cushioned her fall.
"Why couldn't you just not say anything?" she snapped, her words drearily falling from her throat as her eyes welled up.
"As much as I hate to say it, everyone is not going to wait to do things on your terms, Korra."
"Well, maybe they should!" Her hair scattered over her shoulders as she raised her gaze to Katara, a burning line of fury coating every inch of her vision. "I know things take time, but I feel like I've already given up so much time trying to get better so that I can go support my friends as they move on with their lives, so I can have fun with my family for once, so I can go be the freaking Avatar! It's exhausting. Why can't I just forget about it all?"
Her stomach churned as if she had just hurled up everything that had been buried in the pits of her stomach. A flurry of sobs wracked through her chest as Katara knelt down and pulled her close, her soft shushing gracing Korra's ears. "Just let it out, Korra. You are not alone in feeling these things."
"It certainly feels like it," she stuttered thickly.
Katara pressed a comforting kiss to the top of Korra's head as she gently caressed her hand with her thumb. "I know this feeling is isolating, but you cannot let it swallow you whole."
Her words were certainly helpful, but Korra wasn't in the mood for that at the moment. It felt like everything that she had worked so hard for had collapsed right alongside her and she hated it. She hadn't fallen during their practiced walks in weeks, she hadn't had an outburst in months. She was finally finding a groove and then she was right back where she started, a blubbering mess who can't even figure out how to help herself.
"What did you do to me, Katara?" she wailed. She dipped her head further into Katara's side and heaved out a shuddered cry. "I can't, I just can't."
"I only made it easier for you to look inside yourself. What happened next was not because of me and I can't tell you how to fix it. Only you have that power."
"And what if I can't do it? What if there's no hope for me?"
Katara's gaze lowered, not that Korra could really see it. She managed to wipe her sleeve across her nose as Katara pulled away, holding Korra up with a steady hand. "You are the product of generations of hope, Korra. In my darkest moments, I think of those who have walked the paths I may yet reach, and I find strength in the lessons they have left me with. Stay strong, you have more fight left in you than you may think."
Korra didn't fully believe her, but it was hard to argue with Katara when she got all wise-master-like. So, Korra just sucked up the bile of her doubts and she said, "Thank you, Katara."
"Of course. Now, would you like to try the bars again?"
"No," Korra said listlessly as her gaze avoided the shadows of the bars falling over her. "I think I would like to try something else."
"Alright, what would you like to do?"
"I would like to try and contact my Avatar Spirits again."
Katara's face folded over in apprehension, but she didn't try to change Korra's mind. She could see that this was something that, in that moment, Korra needed to do. She helped Korra to her feet and they slowly walked to the healing pool, the water washing away all the tears that coated Korra's face.
She still felt the sting in her cheeks, though, even as she drowned out all the noise in her mind, grounding her thoughts in the flow of her body along the water's surface. The only other time she had done this with Katara, nothing had happened. She was feeling helpless with their lessons and the only alternative that had come to mind was all the mediation exercises Tenzin used to make her do.
Korra had tried them many times since Harmonic Convergence, hoping it would open some door to her spirits, but it hadn't. Katara said it wouldn't be that easy, that there was more to it than just calling on them. Korra figured that maybe she wasn't desperate enough then for it to work. She was certainly desperate now, though, and begged with everything in her for something, anything, to happen.
She just wanted to know herself again.
Her eyes snapped open as a tightness gripped her chest, like something was gripping at every inch of her heart. For a second, her vision went dark and she could see nothing but a growing purple sky clouding her right eye. Then, it disappeared as if it had never even been there at all, and Korra feared for a moment that she had been imagining things in her misery.
But the shaken look in Katara's eyes spoke a thousand words and she knew that something had happened. Something that hadn't happened before.
"Anything?"
Korra took a long moment to think. Besides the cold feeling still squirming in her chest and the dots at the edges of her visions, nothing was jumping out at her as being related to her spirits. If anything, she felt just like she did when Lin and Suyin had worked to get the poison out of her system.
"Maybe it was stupid," Korra muttered to herself, ready to sit up and forget all about it. As she reached to hold on to the edge of the pool, a splitting ache pierced through her mind, flashing her an image of a twisted tree, its cavernous base calling out to her from the depths of her soul.
"Korra?" Katara asked hesitantly, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Is everything alright?"
"Yeah, I just—" Korra cut herself off. She didn't even know where to begin.
She blinked and suddenly she was back in that purple cosmos where she last saw her spirits. Looking up, she felt something coil inside of her at the fervent stare of a version of herself peering down at her from above. Her ears started to flood with a memory of that place, of a conversation she hadn't realized she had.
One where she realized that her inner self was no longer one with her Avatar spirit.
"When we're together again, you'll realize that complete balance will be restored. A new beginning will transpire."
Moving forward, Korra felt herself drawn to the projection, as if it could give her all the answers she sought. She knew it couldn't, though. For all the things she thought she knew after the convergence—that her Avatar Spirits were back inside her, waiting for her call—she was being shown that she was completely and utterly wrong.
"Don't forget about us. We still have more to teach you about this place once we are all whole again."
Even if she returned Raava and Vaatu to their balanced glory, she had yet to do the same for herself. And an imbalanced soul was poison to a healing mind.
---------------
Korra awoke with a start, her arm jutting out to the side as a chill lifted off of her spine. The last she remembered, she was still in the healing pool with Katara watching over her, so the quiet silence of a bedroom that wasn't hers consumed most of her thoughts until she was whacked in the side of the face by the soft billow of Lemaya's heavy curtains.
She relaxed back into the bed just as her arms were about to give out, and she sighed, slowly moving her hands to ploddingly rub her throbbing forehead. Shifting her head to her side, hoping to alleviate some of the pain, Korra frowned a little as Lemaya's bright blue eyes stared back at her. As her thumb circled aimlessly in the skin of Lemaya's side where her hand had flown to, Korra wondered why she hadn't said anything before.
"You know, this no-talking thing isn't my favorite."
It was a half-hearted attempt at a joke, but Korra could tell it didn't land. Not that she was focused on it much, she was a little preoccupied by the fact that she could finally feel Lemaya like she had been wanting to for months now.
"You can't talk, you didn't write or follow up about our date once I got back."
"You were busy," Korra murmured, her eyes shying away from Lemaya's intense gaze.
"And how would you know? Did you ask?"
Korra bit her lip to hide the smile eating away at her. "I have my ways."
"Well, can those Korra-ways find a balance between talking all the time and not at all?"
"They can certainly try." She had almost forgotten about the day she had, it was like being with Lemaya wiped everything clean and set her mind anew. "I was thinking about the last time I saw my Avatar Spirits."
"And?"
"I think I know how to reach them. Or, at least I hope I do, I've only been trying to for months."
Lemaya hummed and gently touched the tip of Korra's nose with her own. "Well, I believe in you. You've come very far and will go even further."
"Are you practicing your future chief pep talks on me?" Korra didn't mean to tease her, but remembering her conversation with Raava and Vaatu had put her in a good mood, one that she didn't even think another setback in her progress could sour.
"I was actually just trying to be supportive," she said wistfully. "But if you'd prefer something else...I'm all ears."
Korra leaned into the fall of Lemaya's goading laugh, their lips brushing ever so slightly as Korra said, "I can think of a few things I'd prefer."
---------------