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nerevar-quote-and-star · 9 months ago

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Yet another wild crackship between my LDB and some Skyrim dumbo, but this time it's General Tullius, and it actually gets madder from there

Look, a lot of this surprised me too. It sure surprised @elder-dragon-reposes and yet it makes sense and that's the strange beauty of it

ao3 | masterlist

He could be forgiven for not seeing her at Helgen. Between Ulfric's capture and the following dragon attack, Tullius had his hands full with escaped prisoners and a town in ruins. Not to mention Elenwen's attempts to take over his execution. One half-elf caught in the crossfire was below his attention at the time. When she came into Castle Dour, a cold wind in her wake as she spoke about fire and death, he had no choice but to pay attention to her. Especially when she brought up things like "peace" and "ceasefire." This Last Dragonborn was out of her mind.

Yet somehow, she led him into an agreement to meet with the Stormcloaks at High Hrothgar.

Tullius isn't quite sure he likes that. She's as double-edged as any Thalmor diplomat with her words. As noble as her intentions appear on the surface, he's not sure he can trust her.

At High Hrothgar, the Last Dragonborn, Leara, leads both sides into an agreement where no one gets what they want, but no one is worse off, and she plans to trap a dragon in a castle.

She . . . plans to trap a dragon in a castle.

Tullius knows he was sent to Skyrim to tame the rebellion, but no one ever prepared him for how maddening the people of Skyrim were. No one is as maddening as the Nords' hero. Tullius cannot understand her. He's not sure he wants to, all things considered.

The Legate is amused by his consternation. He knows this even without her saying anything. But Tullius is worried. This Leara has the power to sway Skyrim in whatever way she chooses, and if she joins the Stormcloaks, then he has a feeling that the Empire might lose more than Skyrim before all is over.

He keeps an ear out for the Dragonborn's movements. His spy network throughout Skyrim is extensive: If she breathes in Windhelm's direction, if she says anything about the Civil War, then he'll need to be ready. This woman has slain dragons. He doesn't want to see what she'll do to a legion of mortal men. Tullius needs to be ready.

Tullius is not ready when Leara walks into Castle Dour again, armorless and prim as she waltzs into his war room. Legate Rikke greets her, but Tullius pretends to give half an ear. He looks like he's going through reports, but he's trying to keep an eye on the anomaly in the room.

Legate Rikke and the Dragonborn talk quietly together. And then the Dragonborn leaves and Tullius finally puts down his paperwork. Legate Rikke is frowning.

"What did she want?"

The Legate's attention snaps to him.

"She wanted to know about our support from Cyrodiil, sir." "Support?" "She mentioned your inability to negotiate a peace settlement, General."

Tullius recalled that. He'd told the Dragonborn he couldn't do more than accept Ulfric's surrender. But why did the Dragonborn want to know about the Imperials' ability to negotiate with the rebels? Didn't she already get her peace treaty and trap her dragon?

Tullius cannot wrap his head around her. Everything his spies have reported paints her as kindness. Even the coldest Nords seem to thaw around her. But Tullius can't base his understanding of such a power player like the Dragonborn on reports and a handful of interactions. He'd have to speak with her himself.

The Winking Skeever is busy when he steps in. A few heads turn, but otherwise, no one pays Tullius any particular attention. The Dragonborn isn't difficult to find, either: She's at a corner table with her nose buried in a dusty book.

Tullius makes his way over to her.

The Dragonborn is surprised to see him but still invites Tullius to sit at her table.

"I assume this is about my discussion with your legate earlier."

She's perceptive. But Tullius already knew that.

"Do you always discuss politics in a bar?"

At his question, the Dragonborn offers a little half-smile, her eyes dancing with amusement.

"Do you?"

No. Honestly, Tullius couldn't recall the last tie he even visited a bar or tavern other than while traveling. Perhaps he was working too late, but between the Civil War, Elenwen, the dragons, and (maybe) the Dragonborn, he couldn't afford to slack off. Why else would Tullius chase the Dragonborn down to the local inn?

"Have you read much about Skyrim?"

Her question surprises him.

"War commentaries mostly. Military history."

The nod of her precise head is measured as if she expected that response. Marking her page, she closes her book and shows him the cover. It's some thick tome he's never heard of, but the knotwork dragon design around the edges breathes of old Nordic craftsmanship.

"As Dragonborn . . . [she pauses for a long moment] . . . As Dragonborn, I am highly invested in the preservation of the Empire and Skyrim."

She chews her lip.

Tullius almost asks if she's about to join the Legion. He can't deny that he'd hoped that would be her ultimate decision, but sitting here across from the Dragonborn as she was now, deliberating over words and tapping her book's cover, Tullius knew she wasn't about to swear fealty to the Emperor.

When she continues, she speaks slowly.

"General Tullius, would you be willing to help me? I need to reach out to people in the Imperial City about a peace summit, and I don't know where to begin."

A peace summit?

"I take it Ulfric didn't put you up to this?"

Her frown is surprising.

"No, he didn't. I asked him."

The Dragonborn asked Ulfric if she could talk to the Empire about a peace summit?

Before he could ask what in Oblivion that was supposed to mean, the server brought a tea service to the table. Just as quickly, he was gone.

"Would you care for a cup, General? I'm afraid all they have is lavender honey." "I . . . would like that--" "Leara."

She supplied. Her lips quirked.

So Tullius found himself ensconced at a table in The Winking Skeever and discussing different politicians and diplomats back in the Imperial City with the Dragonborn – Leara. He's halfway through his second cup when she admits that she's trying to find a peaceful resolution to the Civil War that could please everyone. He calls her a hopeful idiot, but she smiles.

"You can't please everyone." "Well, I don't think I can please the Dominion, but I can tie them in legal knots."

Leara wiggles her fingers at him, her rings glittering in the candlelight, and Tullius finds himself speechless.

If the Dragonborn – Leara – can tie the Thalmor up with a loophole, how imminent would their retaliation be? Tullius is at once intrigued and put off.

She was mad.

"Here, you'll want to write . . ."

But by the Divines, he was going to help her anyway, wasn't he? If Leara could talk Ulfric off his warpath, then maybe there was something to her hair-brained scheme.

Tullius sees Leara a few days later. She's been to the Blue Palace and the Bards College, she tells him when he meets her again at the 'Skeever. She's combing through maps and treaties, drafting letters, and making lists. Her mind is running at speeds Tullius can't comprehend, and yet she keeps looking to him for advice.

As Leara stirs a lump of sugar into her snowberry spice tea and peruses another list, Tullius wonders if she did this with Ulfric when she went to ask him to consider peace.

Her penmanship is as poised as the rest of her. He cannot see her against the harsh stony backdrop of Windhelm, amidst the snow and vitriol. She's too civilized for Skyrim. She's almost too civilized for Cyrodiil, but Tullius won't think of that.

He doesn't have a chance to give it much thought anyway when she's asking him about neutrality and the terms of the Concordat.

It's late when Tullius leaves her the second time. As he leaves, she's carrying a stack of papers upstairs. She has a hopeful lift in her step.

Tullius almost smiles.

Almost.

The next morning, Legate Rikke drops a new report on his desk. It's from Captain Aldis.

"What's this, Legate?" "There was a break-in, sir." "And we're concerned with this, because?"

Legate Rikke's jaw tightens, her eyes are wide. Whatever it is has unsettled her.

"It was at The Winking Skeever."

She sighs. Heavy. It's a familiar frustration.

"General, I believe that the Thalmor were exercising their Concordat-given rights."

A pit settles in Tullius's stomach.

"They took the Dragonborn, sir." "On what grounds?" "It doesn't say. sir. It doesn't even mention the Thalmor at all. But you know–"

Tullius doesn't hear the rest of the sentence because he realizes his mistake. He should never have discussed the possibility of an armistice with Leara in a public room. Who overheard her? Who saw Leara's notes and lists and books? Who ratted her out to the Thalmor?

Tullius's fist clenches, his knuckles pale. The one person with a Divine's chance in Oblivion to bring a favorable resolution to the Civil War and the Thalmor took her like every Talos worshipper the Empire was supposed to turn a blind eye too.

He paces around his office. Legate Rikke has left him alone, and now all Tullius can do is think and walk. Turn. Think and walk. Turn. The cycle repeats throughout his office. He only suspects that the Thalmor took Leara. Without concrete proof, he can't accuse them or he'll risk something far more uncomfortable than paperwork. But if he does nothing, then every hope for peace in Skyrim vanishes in the Dragonborn's wake.

Tullius stopped in the middle of his office, standing at a crossroads. Was it possible to ascertain that the Thalmoor abducted Leara and to request her freedom without bringing Elenwen down on his head? Probably not. But . . .

Tullius recalled the wide eyes, the fear swimming in the teary blue when Leara was faced with Elenwen at High Hrothgar. At the time, Tullius didn't think much of the Dragonborn's aversion to her. Most people hated the Thalmor Ambassador on a good day. But the terror that flickered in Leara's face before she grew cold and distant and manipulated the entire table to her own ends came back to him.

No, Tullius knew Elenwen personally had the Dragonborn. There was a history there he couldn't see, but it peeked at the edges of his vision in brilliant horror.

Elenwen had Leara, and she wouldn't let the half-elf go lightly.

If Leara could cheat an entire room of warring politicians and soldiers while ensuring a truce, then Tullius could sure as Hell try to manipulate Elenwen.

Sitting at his desk, the General ruled out any official Legion channels. Those would be tied back to him and ruin any chance Leara had of negotiating her armistice. Something under the table, then.

Mercenaries were messy. Robbing Elenwen would take a different hand. He grimaces and drafts a letter.

General . . .

The messenger hawk returns the next evening. Tullius doesn't want to think about why the hawk returned so quickly. He just hoped his charade would hold.

(Writing Galmar Stone-Fist of all people to encourage a Stormcloak raid on Northwatch Keep was something Tullius knew he could never live down if it got back to any of his superiors in Cyrodiil. He couldn't trust that General Stone-Fist would take an anonymous tip at face value, but as Leara soliloquised late that last night,)

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend."

It's four long days of giving only half his attention to his job before an Imperial scout reports that the Stormcloaks attacked the Thalmor fortress of Northwatch. When the Legion got there, nothing was left but smoldering ruins.

"They had a dragon, sir."

Tullius didn't want to know how they had a dragon, but he was optimistic that it meant Leara made it out of there alive.

With the Stormcloaks, but alive.

He sleeps through the night for the first time in over a week. When Tullius wakes up, he wonders how he could turn to the rebels to save the Dragonborn. Effective, yes, but it went against everything he was supposed to represent.

But she's alive.

She would be dead or worse off if he hadn't done it.

Tullius uses that thought to bolster himself through the coming weeks.

Then, a letter addressed to Tullius comes by way of Whiterun of all places. He recognizes the slender script curling his name across the paper. It's a short letter asking him to retrieve her belongings from her room at the 'Skeever. Two things stand out to him: The first is the thank you. Tullius cannot tell what Leara means by it because he knows that Stone-Fist didn't know who sent the tip about Northwatch. And yet there's a tearstain on the parchment, small and alone as if any others were quickly dashed away after the first one fell. The second is that all her books, papers, the things she worked on for her peace talk were all hidden in a panel behind the bookshelf in her boardroom.

Tullius didn't even think of Leara losing all her work. He was more concerned about getting her out. He was more worried about her than anything else.

Tullius buries his face in his hands.

This was a familiar feeling. It'd been years since the last time he felt like this.

Although, Tullius gave himself a wry smile, he doubted he'd have betrayed the Empire for the Countess of Anvil's cousin.

Tullius goes early the next morning to retrieve Leara's things, hidden or otherwise. A member of his spy network is tasked with getting the parcels to a Lydia in Whiterun. Then Tullius watches as every connection he has to the Dragonborn disappears out the doors of Castle Dour.

It's back to the everyday humdrum of war, then.

Until, some months later, a familiar half-elf comes into Solitude. Now, she's accompanied by a dark-haired Nord woman in heavy armor. Her stormy expression and hawkish eyes remind Tullius of Rikke at times. Leara introduces her as Lydia, her housecarl. Then Leara is handing him a folio of papers.

"I've been corresponding with some of the Elder Council. I'm planning a summit in Whiterun."

He takes the folio from her.

"What's this?" "My draft for a permanent peace treaty. I thought that since you helped me, you'd like to peruse it. Of course, I need to get it to Jarl Elisif when you're finished."

That Leara is offering to let him be a part of her peace treaty isn't lost on Tullius. He sets the folio on the table but leaves his hand on top, protecting it.

"I can come back for it tomorrow." "I'll get it back to you tonight."

Legate Rikke coughs, obviously. Tullius adds,

". . . we can discuss it over dinner, if you like?"

Leara's smile is full.

"I would like that."

They don't end up talking much about the draft. But Tullius gives Leara some of his favorite brandy after their dinner of roast lamb and stewed vegetables. Her giggle is light and airy, and her hand is cool like spring water when he takes it across the table.

Perhaps he drank more than he should have, but liquid courage was a reassuring friend.

At the end of the night, Leara, tipsy and yet all grace, presses a petal soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. She pulls away.

His hands slide up her arms, callused fingers catching on the soft linen of her sleeves. And he pulls her back and kisses her, full and properly on the mouth.

Leara tastes of tea and winter and something floral and frosted. There's more than magic in her mouth – there's music and mercy. If Tullius wasn't drunk before, he finds himself intoxicated on Leara.

She strokes his face, smiling, always smiling, and then backs away. Her eyes are bright and liquid and as deep as Lake Rumare. In the low glow of golden orange firelight, she is beautiful.

He loves her.

He doesn't say it, and soon she's gone, slipping through doors into the night. An angel passing from the room.

The next day, he finds that she left him her address. It had been a long time since Tullius even tried to write a love letter. They were never his strong suit, but Leara had a way of inspiring madness in him. He wrote her.

And Leara wrote him back.

Again and again and again.

Tullius doesn't expect for his presence to be needed when the summit is called in Whiterun. The Empire has its own group of delegates to negotiate the terms of Skyrim's division. But still, Elisif the Fair says that General Tullius has been asked to attend. The young queen seems as if she can't quite believe it, but she was often wide-eyed and overwhelmed as it was.

(Maybe Julia was right. He should listen to Elisif more. But pretty soon, it was likely Tullius would never see the Queen of Solitude again.)

Leara is there in Whiterun, laying out the terms of the Armistice with the light and delicacy he'd come to expect from her. How many others here knew she was anxious that things would crumble apart, that things would come to blows, and that the war would escalate for all her efforts to temper the fire?

Ulfric's face is a dark stormcloud, but somehow the Jarl of Windhelm appears to hold his tongue around the Dragonborn. He watches her, defers to her, and in return, Leara smiles at him.

Tullius is simply in an advisory position for the Imperial delegates to mine information on the state of the Civil War and the Imperial Legion. He never speaks to Ulfric, and seldom to Leara during the weeklong summit. But he sees the Jarl speak to her between sessions. Leara is quiet and nods. Her eyes are faraway and thoughtful.

Tullius remembers that when she first brought the idea of the summit to him, Leara mentioned that she convinced Ulfric to agree to it. For the first time, Tullius wonders how Leara went about winning Ulfric Stormcloak to her side.

His chest burns.

When the Armistice is signed and Skyrim divided in two–

"Divided, you can finally be united."

Leara said.

–there is a feast. Leara is in demand all night. Tullius watches from the sidelines, some Cyrodilic brandy in hand as he watches one person after another flit around her, bees buzzing around a blooming rose. After a while, Tullius gets up and retires to the quiet of the Dragonsreach porch.

He isn't out there long when the doors open again. From the dark stairwell where he sat, he saw Leara flit by, orbited by Ulfric.

Tullius's hand tightened on his glass.

"You must be relieved that's over." "I'm glad we could reach a resolution."

She deflected Ulfric's concern with a wave of her hand.

But Tullius knew the truth: She was terrified of the summit. She was terrified she'd fail.

"What will you do now?"

Leara's question broke through Tullius's thoughts.

Ulfric shifted.

"There's much to do. Skyrim hasn't been in a state like this since the Second Era. I'll need to work quickly to bring stability to the east before we can truly reap any of tonight's rewards." "You have a busy schedule, Jarl Ulfric! [her laugh is musical] Even when my work ends, you still have so much to do!" "Leara . . ."

There's a hesitation in Ulfric's voice that Tullius never would have imagined from the man who Shouted High King Torygg apart. Leara's responding,

"Yes, Ulfric?"

is careful.

"I was hoping that you would come to Windhelm with me. To help me." "Help you? As an advisor? Certainly, but–" "Not as an advisor. Not . . . as you're thinking. Leara, surely you must know what I feel for you." "Oh."

If Tullius didn't fear being caught, he'd have stormed from the porch. Or over to Ulfric and pushed him off. Or something. His blood was rushing in his ears.

Certainly, he and Leara hadn't truly defined what it was between them. This week was the first time he'd seen her since kissing her that night in Solitude, and in this week, they'd hardly been alone together long enough to discuss anything beyond the summit and the usual pleasantries.

But her letters were candid and funny and full of ideas. Her mind spilled across the page in curling and shifting lines.

Tullius knew then that while he had Leara's mind, there was every possibility that Ulfric had her heart. She was as divided as Skyrim was.

"Ulfric–" "While Skyrim was at war, I knew I couldn't give you the attention you deserved. But now that we can have some peace, I wish to ask you for your hand. Leara, you ignite a fire in my chest that burns my heart when you are near. Please do me the honor of agreeing to marry me."

There's silence. Long, drawn-out silence. Somewhere on the plains, a wolf howls. Its cry echoes the pain in Tullius's chest.

"Ulfric . . ."

Leara's voice is choked, emotional but she is forcing it down.

"Ulfric, you're very dear to me, but I can't marry you."

It was only Ulfric's loud,

"You can't? Why?"

That covered the sound of Tullius's brandy glass slipping to shatter on the stone stairs.

Leara hesitated.

"I can't give you my heart because it belongs to someone else. I can't take it back." "Who?"

Leara quieted.

"Please, Leara, if you won't marry me, then allow me the courtesy of knowing who I lost you to!" "I–"

Leara choked.

Tullius's heart sped up as his hands shook. He was as anxious as Ulfric to hear her answer.

"You won't like it." "Who is it? Galmar? I know he was the one to pull you from that Thalmor pit."

Divines. That would just be the cherry on top of this entire fiasco, wouldn't it?

"No, not . . . It's . . . General Tullius."

The silence that followed was more deafening than any that proceeded it. Even from the darkened stairwell, Tullius could since the thunder around Ulfric, rumbling silent and yet violent.

"You won't marry me because you're in love with Tullius?" "If that's how you want to put it, yes, that's it." "Leara – I, he . . ."

For once, all of Ulfric's fine speeches seemed to fail him.

"Please don't be upset."

Leara's voice is as soothing as the first spring rain, as far apart from Ulfric's hurricane as possible.

There was a rustle of skirts.

"You are a very important person to me, for more than you can possibly know, but I can't give you the love you want. It's not mine to give you." "But Tullius–" "Has been so vital to me during these last several months. We would not have this peace if not for him. I needed him." "I need you." "I know, but I've given you all I can. I can't give you any more."

Tullius peeks around the corner far enough to see Leara on her tiptoes. She whispers something in Ulfric's ear, then presses a fleeting kiss to his cheek. Tullius ducks back just in time to be hidden as Ulfric turns and leaves the porch. The doors shut behind him with a whisper of finality.

"You can come out now, General."

Tullius's knees are stiff as he gets up from the steps. Leara is waiting for him in the middle of the porch, her red hair a dark contrast against the white gold of her skin and the pale ivory of her gown. She's aetheric in the moon and aurora lights.

"I hope you finished your brandy before the glass fell."

His neck grows warm with embarrassment.

"Is that how you knew I was there?"

Leara's coy smile was her only answer. Yes, then. Well.

"Ulfric Stormcloak proposed to you." "Yes, he did." "And you turned him down." "Yes, I did. " "Why . . ."

Her hand was on the side of his face. She was perhaps a hairsbreadth taller than him, maybe an inch, but her hand felt so small against his face that Tullius couldn't help but reach up and clasp it with his own for fear that it slip away.

"I thought you were eavesdropping." "Well, I wouldn't say that–" "And, therefore, would know why I turned Ulfric down."

Tullius tries to swallow, but his throat is tight. Leara's hand is cool against his skin, and he takes comfort in that.

"You love me." "Yes, I do."

Her smile is radiant.

Tullius's hand slips from Leara's, but then his arms are around her waist, pulling her into him. She is slim and cool and everything a flower in winter might be. He buries his nose in her neck, amidst the frost and flowers.

"I love you."

She doesn't reply. She only tightens her arms around his torso. They stand there in the quiet of the night, away from the celebrations but togehter under the stars.

Later, when Tullius returns to Solitude for the last time, he packs his things for the return to the Imperial City. He takes his bags to the docks.

And there Leara is waiting for him, Lydia her housecarl in tow. She smiles at him, full and vivid.

"You're late. My trunks are already on board. Right, Lydia?"

Lydia rolls her eyes.

"All eleven of them, my Thane."

Tullius chuckles, quiet.

Leara's hand finds his, and he helps her up the gangplank of the Imperial Naval ship. It would be a long voyage, but Leara had never sailed before, so that would be their mode of transportation back to the Imperial City.

"What will we do when we get there?"

Leara's question is teasing and free of the burden of being Dragonborn and peacemaker. There were still the Thalmor to worry about, but after the ruin of Northwatch and the signing of the armistice, Tullius hoped they'd think thrice before going after Leara again.

"I'll buy you expensive teas and you'll drain my accounts on tea and books."

Her giggle rang out amidst the sounds of the ship preparing to leave the harbor.

"Oh yes, that must be why I've gone and married you."

Tullius pulled his wife to his side and slipped his arm around her waist.

"Must be."

It couldn't possibly be that she was the most maddening thing in the world and she drove him mad by proximity.

Madly in love.

What nonsense.

fin

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randomwritingguy · 2 years ago

Text

The Myth of Y/N (Korra x Reader) Part 36

Y/N ALONE - PART ONE

Y/N’S POV

Wind rushes past my face as Spectre flies high into the air and dark sky at a speed that surpasses the speed of his previous flights.

FUCK FUCK FUCK

Korra has been gone for six months?! What happened to her?! Is she okay?! Is she safe?! Where is she?!

A low grumble emits from the bison’s mouth, its own way of questioning its human partner in their bond.

Where are we going? That’s what Spectre is trying to ask. A simple question. A simple fucking question.

And my answer?

“I don’t know, Spectre.” I mutter. Then, I shout into the night. “I DON’T KNOW!”

How am I supposed to find Korra when I have no damn clue where she is?

I rushed off without any plan, without any resources, and without telling my friends where I am going at all. They all must be worried sick.

I don’t have any food and drink with me. None at all. That’s a great way to quickly starve and dehydrate.

Should I turn back?

I look behind me and I see Air Temple Island, shrinking second by second as we get further and further away.

The temptation nearly takes me over. Logically, this is ridiculous. This is completely irrational. All the odds are against me. Really, I should turn back and plan with the others.

But…Korra has been gone for six months. She’s all alone. What if she’s been captured this entire time? What if she’s in danger?

The image of Tonraq holding a nearly dead Korra in his arms flashes in my mind’s eye and its all I can see. And, just like that, my decision has been made. Frowning in a determined gaze, I turn back to the open sea in front of me and I tighten my hold on the rope used to guide my bison.

“Keep a steady course, Spectre. Korra’s out there, somewhere. She might be in danger, and we must find her. I will find her. I don’t know how, but I will.”

“I will find you, Korra!”

I open my eyes and spin around in. No-one is here.

I’ve just finished counting to thirty seconds. There’s no way Korra managed to find a good hiding spot already, right?

Hmph. Well, if she did, it won’t matter. I’m the best seeker in the Southern Water Tribe! I’ll find her quicker than Prince Zuko found Avatar Aang during the war! I’ll show her!

I rush out of the room and look down left and right corners of the house. It doesn’t have much, just boring brown walls with little additions of paintings of some boring stuff I have no idea what are about.

Hm. Which way did she go? Left or right?

A short giggle echoes down the corridor from the right!

Ah ha! Korra is so bad at this!

“I’ve got you now, Korra!” I shout out and begin rushing down the corridor. “You may be the Avatar but you can be so easily caught!”

When I reach to the end of the corridor, I see two doors. One leads to the outside and the other to a very dark room.

Uh oh.

Knowing Korra, she would probably enter that one. She knows I get a bit scared in the dark so she thinks I won’t go in there! Well, I’ll show her!

I take a super, super deep breath and I charge!

“I’ve got you, Korra!”

I barge through the room and…

Nothing.

Huh?!

The room’s dark but I can see just enough and…there’s nothing. Just a bunch of boxes! Maybe she’s in the boxes?

I walk up to one of them and open the lid.

“BOO!”

“AH!”

I jump back and fall to the ground on my butt in shock!

Then, Korra starts laughing! LAUGHING!

“Hahaha, I got you!” She lets out, voice high. “You were like “I got you now!” and I was like “Boo!” and you were like “Ahh!”

UGH!

“Kooorrraaaa” I whine, getting up and brushing the dust from my clothes. I put my hands on my hips and I pout. “That’s not how you play hide and seek! You hide, I come and find you!”

“But its so borrriiinnnngggg sitting here and waiting for you to find me!” Korra whines back. “You’re so bad at being seeker, you would take hours to find me!”

WHAT?!

“I’m an amazing seeker!” I argue, crossing my arms.

“Are not!”

“Are too!”

“Are not!”

“Are too!”

“Are not!”

“Are too-ughhh, you tricked me!”

That only makes Korra start laughing even harder, her head back in the air and arms holding her belly.

Ugh!

But then, I look at the box and a smile creeps onto my lips. I quickly rush around the box and push so Korra spills out of it like water!

“Hey!” Korra lets out.

I cross my arms and smirk. “That’s what you get for calling me a bad seeker!”

“Well, I’m the Avatar so, whatever!”

“Oh, here’s the “I’m the Avatar” card.”

“That’s it!”

She lunges at me and I fall to the ground on my back with her on top of me. We have a habit of play fighting and this is so different as we twist and turn, giggling as we do so.

“Admit you’re a bad seeker!”

“Never!”

Then, the door suddenly opens wide and orange light pours into the room. Three people stand by the door’s entrance. On the left I see Dad and the other two are White Lotus members. Uh oh.

“Y/N, your father is here to collect you.” The White Lotus Guard says. “Korra, you got to get back to preparing for your final waterbending test.”

Oh man. Playtimes over?

“Okay.” We both say sadly and we get up on the floor.

“Good luck on your waterbending test.” I tell her.

Korra just smirks and crosses her arms. “I don’t need luck. I’m a waterbending master.”

I chuckle a bit and smile. I like seeing Korra so confident of herself. It makes me feel nice.

“Of course, Sifu Korra.” I tell her jokingly. Then, I pull her into a hug. She hugs me back even tigther and even lifts me up in the air.

After a few moments of silence, she puts me back down and we reluctantly let go of each other.

“Bye, Korra.”

Korra smiles softly. “Bye, Y/N.”

I walk up to Dad and we start leaving the compound.

“Did you have a fun time with Korra?” He asks me with a warm smile.

I nod really quickly. “Yep! We played a bunch of games! We played hide and seek before you guys came but Korra just wanted to scare me. She said I was a bad seeker too!”

Dad just chuckles and ruffles my hair. “Well, I think you are an amazing seeker. You always managed to find mum and I when we play together.”

See? Dad thinks I’m a great seeker!

“I tried to tell her that!” I huff out, then pout again. “She won’t believe me.”

Dad just ruffles my hair again. “Well, I suppose you would have to find and catch her next time.”

I smile. “You’re on it! I will! I’ll show her!”

Next time, Korra. Next time I will find you!

Hours. I have been awake for hours to the point that dawn has just broken loose and I’ve had no clue or trace or any idea how to find Korra.

And I’m fucking exhausted. So is Spectre. Each hour his flight speed decreases little by little. Now, he’s flying at the air bison equivalent of a snail’s pace.

Dammit.

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I let out a frustrated groan. “Land, Spectre. We need the rest.”

Rumbling in satisfaction, he lands us to a small clearing on a mountain surrounded by an army of trees. Then, I fall on my back and let my furry friend’s soft hair bring me to a welcoming darkness and I let myself fall into its arms like an old friend.

Images flash through my mind. Images of an Earth Kingdom town filled with standard homes and standard citizens. Poverty and dirt fill the dark alleys like a disease waiting to be unleashed from the shadows.

Another flash and the scene has changed. This time, it’s a much bigger building, similar to that of a warehouse. People surround the entrance with intrigue and excitement.

Again, the scene changes. Now, its an arena, decorated with green, gold and silver with a symbol of a powerful fist crushing rock in the centre, with a claustrophobic cage trapping it. The image lingers and, this time, I hear voices surrounding me.

“You know, you look very familiar. Yeah, you ... you kind of look like that Avatar girl!”

“I get that a lot.”

“Whatever happened to her anyway?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

That voice…

“KORRA!”

I leap forward as my shout echoes across the mountains, so loud that it results in a scattering of birds. Spectre roars in panic at being abruptly awoken at the sound of my scream. Panting frantically with sweat flowing down my face like a waterfall, I bury my face into my hands.

That was Korra’s voice. That was definitely Korra’s voice. But those images…

When I fully joined the Air Nation and began my studies and training, I focused a lot on trying to gain more visions in hopes of finding any more clues on what the vision I experienced when Korra and I were held captive by Tarrlok was about. I barely remembered any of it. Future visions I had had the same fate, I barely remembered it.

Now, though? Now, I’m glad to know I was able to remember all of it.

It’s a clue. Korra was definitely in the Earth Kingdom and she was definitely fighting in what seemed to be an arena. But why? What for? Did Korra just…give up and start fresh?

No. No, don’t be stupid. Korra doesn’t give up. No, there’s got to be a good reason why she was there. Maybe she was forced to fight? But her conversation with that man didn’t appear like she was forced. So, what?

Releasing my face, I look back up and the black-orange sky is now gone, replaced by the blueish ocean high above symbolising that it is now midday. I have been asleep for a good amount of time. Now, I’m recharged.

Spectre grumbles in a questioning tone. Are you okay?

“I’m okay, Spectre.” I tell him, patting him. “I just had a vision. We now have a clue on where Korra is.”

From the vision, I saw that the town was right by the infamous woods and swamps. And, I have a feeling I will let the universe guide me to the right location. Just follow my gut.

“Let’s get going, boy. Yip yip.”

TIME SKIP

After a few hours of exploring the kingdom, I find it. The town looks just like what it did in my visions. Average rundown buildings with alleys littered with rubbish. We ride past it for a few minutes, trying to find that one building that housed the cage fight. It takes a while but eventually a find it.

“We’re here, Spectre.” I tell him. “Good job. You stay up here. I’ll call you when I’m done.”

After a grumble of acknowledgement, I flip off the air bison and with my airbending I propel myself like a fireball towards the building. Then, just before I hit the ground, I flip forward and spin around, slowing my speed until, finally, I land gracefully on the ground. As I do so, I see a number of citizens around me gazing at me with awe, jaws dropped in amazement.

I ignore their looks. Instead, I march towards my destination and head inside the building. After a few quick steps, I am greeted by a familiar site: An arena surrounded by a silver-grey cage, filled with colours of forest-green and golden-yellow with a powerful symbol of a intimidating fist destroying a piece of earth with its power.

This is the place all right. This is where Korra was. But now the questions are just resurfacing. Why was she here? Was she forced to fight? Or did she come here on her own accord?

“Oh, uh, you’re an Air Nomad!”

I turn to the left at the sound of the familiar voice. He’s a skinny man wearing a dark green jacket of some sorts with a shirt of a lighter shade of the same colour underneath as well as a grey, unkempt and baggy trousers. As for his face, he has a short and narrow spiky black hair with a thin black moustache and dark brown eyes. His sharp eyebrows are raised in surprise at seeing an Air Nomad of all people in such a violent setting.

That voice. I know that voice. It’s the one from the vision. This is the man who talked to Korra.

I approach the figure with a glare. “Are you in charge of this establishment?”

The sound of my steel voice causes him to back away a bit. Then, realising that he’s making a fool of myself, leans forward and stands straighter in an attempt to appear confident. “I am. What’s this about?”

“I am here to discuss about one of your fighters.” I tell him. “Specifically, one from a recent fight.”

Clearly my answer isn’t what he was expecting as he frowns slightly in confusion. “Uh, sure. But you do realise how many fighters come here, right? I don’t keep a log or anything.”

Dammit. Just when I thought I couldn’t run in any more problems Still, any bit of information will be useful.

“I am aware.” I lie so I don’t betray my intimidating image. “However, the one I am looking for will be easy for you to remember. Did you hire a fighter that looked like Avatar Korra?”

“Uh, yeah.” He says, confusion growing. “I did. She came in, asked to enter, got her butt kicked, I paid her, and she went on her way.”

So, she did come here on her own accord. But why? Surely, it couldn’t have been for money.

“Did you see where she went?”

The frown on the man’s face increases. “What’s this about?”

“Did you see where she went?” I repeat, adding further steel to my voice. I don’t have time to answer this guy’s question.

“No, I didn’t!” The man sputters, leaning back slightly in anxiousness. “I don’t track my clients!”

I look away from the man and mutter a curse under my breath. Dammit!

I guess that means I have to ask around if anyone’s seen Korra which might take a while. Terrific.

“What did she look like?”

“Blue eyes, short hair, wearing green.” He lists off. “She wasn’t Avatar Korra, right? She fought terribly!”

I shoot a glare back at the man and he silences himself immediately.

“Thank you for your cooperation.” I tell him professionally. “You will not reveal the details of this conversation to anyone. Is that understood?”

He nods. “Yep! You got it! Understood!”

I nod in return and, just like that, I walk back into the outside world.

Korra might still be in this town. Somewhere. She’s also trimmed her hair. Huh, Korra with short hair. Never thought that would happen.

I glance at my dark skinned hands that surround the bold and blue arrow tattoos that symbolise my mastery of airbending. I changed too…in more ways than one.

Staring into my eyes I see only oblivion, a sad darkness emanating over them. But that darkness is overwhelmed by the brightness that covers my skin.

Glancing upwards at my reflection from the dark ocean to the large, tattooed arrow on my forehead that stretches all way down my back. Moving my arms upward, I examine the same arrows on my hands.

It’s official. I am an airbending master. The first master of the Harmonic Convergence airbenders. The first master of the new airbenders.

The official ceremony of my ascension has been over for hours now. Everyone has either gone back to Republic City or gone to sleep on Air Temple Island. It was great. It was really great.

And yet…

Two years. It’s been two years since I’ve spoken to Korra and my parents. None of them were here to see me in my proudest moment of being an Air Nomad.

As much as I enjoyed and was honoured by it all, their absence amplified the emptiness in my heart. I really, really wish they were there.

Tears land directly on the arrows and my hands tremble.

Dammit.

“Y/N?”

Jinora!

Wiping the tears away, I turn to the source of the voice. Standing a few meters before me is Jinora in her pyjamas. Her hair is blowing elegantly in the wind and her eyes wash with concern.

“Jinora.” I greet in a neutral tone, hoping to not betray my sadness. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

She shakes her head and she walks a few steps forward until she reaches my side, both of us standing at the very edge of the port of the island, pointing in the direction of the mystical and glowing golden lights of Republic City.

I turn back to gaze at the city alongside her, my cape breezing in the wind. The wind also brings a new chilly feeling to my now shaven head and I rub it a bit.

“Not used to it, right?” Jinora asks with amusement.

I chuckle, grateful at the attempt to lighten the somewhat sombre mood. “Yeah. I never thought I would go bald. I have to say, I’m really not liking the look. Can’t wait to get my beautiful hair back.”

The younger airbender laughs. “That’s exactly how I felt when my hair was shaven.“ she says as she touches a strand of hair and placing it away from her face. “I was relieved when I finally grew out my hair again.”

I hum in acknowledgement. “That was two years ago. It’s crazy how fast time has passed. Sometimes it feels like my life is riding on the fastest satmobile in the world.”

“I get what you’re feeling.” Jinora says. “With my new role as a master, I’ve gotten a lot of new responsibilities which means I’ve been too busy to notice the passage of time.”

“Well, now I am a master, we can share the responsibilities and your busy time could be halved. I’m sure Kai would really like that.”

Even in the night sky, I can see the red tinge on Jinora’s cheeks. “Shut up.”

“No, really.” I assure her. “He would. I know you would too.”

“I will.” She agrees, a smile forming on her lips. “There are times where we’ve been so busy that we barely spend time together. Not to mention the times where Kai or I have to go somewhere. But we’re doing good.”

I smile. “You love him, don’t you?”

Her blush deepens and shyly looks away. “I…I think I do. I know, its silly because of how young I am but…”

“Hey, your grandparents were around your age when they got together.” I assure her. “If you love him, you love him. Doesn’t matter how old you are.”

She glances back up at me and her smile widens. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. And, in my opinion, I think he loves you too.”

And just like that, she blushes again.

I chuckle and I turn back to gaze back at the city. We stand there in a comfortable silence for a minute or two, the gentle wind acting as a soothing cool rather than a frozen current.

“You were thinking about Korra and your parents, weren’t you?” Jinora eventually asks with caution, careful not to disrupt the calmness of the situation.

I sigh heavily. “Am I that easy to read?”

“I’m a good guesser and you’re deflecting.”

I snort. Smart.

“Yeah. I was.” I answer her. “Its been two years since I spoken to any of them and they were not on the best terms. Not seeing them at my ceremony was…very difficult to handle.”

I turn back to her and give her a reassuring smile. “But I did have a good time. Really, I did. All of you there made me feel very proud of myself. I know all airbenders are our family but, really, I can only really say that to a select few. Team Avatar is my family but nowadays its just Mako, Asami, and I, and whenever Mako goes Prince Wu follows and you know how I feel about that. But, to be honest, since I stopped talking to my mum and dad, Tenzin and Pema have been second parents to me. And I care about Ikki, Meelo, and Rohan, I really do, but Jinora…you’re like a little sister to me. So, thank you. For everything.”

Immediately, two strong arms wrap around my waist and Jinora pulls herself to me in a tight hug, head pressed to my chest. I bent down slightly and hug her back, feeling a comfortable warmth swarming me.

“You’re the older sibling I never had.” Jinora says, her speech muffled but the family love obvious. “Thank you.”

My smile widens and all the bitterness I felt mere moments ago has now been vanquished, replaced by my love for my new family.

When we finally release from each other, much colder air blows against us and Jinora shivers. Best we don’t stay out here any longer.

“We should probably get some shut eye. We have a lot of stuff to do tomorrow.”

Jinora nods in agreement. “Yeah.”

Then, a smug smile forms on her lips and, all of a sudden, she dashes toward the island in a run. “Race you to the entrance!”

“Hey, that’s cheating!” I exclaim with a grin as I dash after her.

Times have changed. I have changed. But I know I will always have a family.

I have been exploring this town, asking strangers, exploring every dark alley I can find and I have found NOTHING!

Where in the spirits has Korra ran off too?!

DAMMIT!

I reach to the end of the town where nothing but forests lie ahead. Those trees stretch out forever, its practically a maze in there.

But, then, a thought comes to my mind.

Could…Could Korra be there?

I take a few steps towards the forest until I reach the very edge to the entrance of the labyrinth of green and wood.

I don’t see why Korra would go there but…maybe its worth a shot? I mean, I haven’t found anything in the town. It won’t hurt to quickly look around some of the forest, right? Maybe some clues might be there.

I take a step forward and place my hand on the trunk of one of the trees-

-AND A BLINDING LIGHT CONSUMES ME!

WHAT’S GOING ON?! WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!

But the light fades and, in my mind’s eye, I see only one image…

A small, singular island. An Island I recognise all too well from the books I’ve read.

And, like that, the image is gone and I return to the here and now. My hand is still on the trunk of the tree.

That…That’s the first time a vision has happened when I’m not meditating or sleeping. This…This is new.

But, that doesn’t matter. No. This has got to be a clue where Korra went off to. It’s got to be! Why else would I have been given that vision? I don’t know why she’s there, but I’m about to find out.

I take one last glance at the silent woods and I turn and rush off to get to Spectre. When I finally meet up with him, I hop onto him and grab the rope to steer him to another direction.

The air bison lets out a questioning grumble. Where are we going?

I frown in determination.

“We’re going to Kyoshi Island.”

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And that's it!

I hope you all enjoyed it!

Feedback is appreciated!

See you all in the next chapter! :D

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