completelytwitterpated asked you: 2012-05-18 02:32
(OMG OLD WEST THEME ajshekas, I’m trying to think of something to write now HAHAHA!) In the meantime, how about you write some Makorra too, with an Egyptian theme ;D
(This is a cut down version, because I ended up writing about four pages in my notebook and was still no where done because I ended up with two different povs, three different styles, and possibley two different stories, so I’m getting the heavy Makorra part, and save the rest for a day when I’m ready to write an epic fic.)
Some notes first. The bending powers come from gods in this one, so the avatar is known as the Voice or the Voice of the Gods. (replace past avatar with gods, and you got the deal). Amon is considered a prophet of Aton, which was a real life scandalous monotheistic religion that occurred in Egypt. Tutankhamen’s father was the high priest/founder of said religion, and all marks of it were erased after his death. Here, Aton is sorta a god of Equality, and wants bending removed so that all mortals are equal, like rays of a sun. When I write the big epic, you’ll get a better understanding of it (as will I).
The showdown was set. Tomorrow, they would take Amon down, or at least that was the plan. The chariots were set up and ready to go, even as Korra wondered what good they would do. What good she would do.
She had been able to tap into the full potential of being the Voice, but even if she wanted to tonight, she couldn’t. The few times she was able to open her mind to the Gods, and hear them speak to her, it was pure chaos, pure cacophony. So instead she had settled for going through her other skills, the sickle sword, the spear. She had just finished a set of moves when she heard the noise behind her.
Mako. She hadn’t expected to see him now. She had already talked to him and his brother earlier, hugged them tightly. She had wished all of her friends good luck. Since then, she had been trying to entomb herself, mummify her own spirit so that the Gods could work through her. She had seen the damage she could cause if she went in as herself, she couldn’t afford to fail again. But Mako was ruining any idea of doing that.
"Mako, what are you doing here?"
He stopped, his arms crossing themselves over his bare chest. He wasn’t dressed up like earlier, when they made formal promises and said their goodbyes. He was dressed as any other man, a simple kilt, and bare sandals. She herself had put off the wig and long dress, wearing the simple linen shealth as she practiced, her own feet bared. She was wishing he was still in the formal wear, borrowed jewels at his neck and a perfume cone on his head. Then she could stay connected with the Gods, like she was supposed to be. But now, they were just Mako and Korra, and wouldn’t look any different then a peasant on the street. She was startled out of her thoughts by his sudden nearness, and looked up in amber eyes.
She had loved him since first laying sight on him, the overpowering love of Isis for Osirus, the kind that led one to find broken pieces of a body and put it together again. But he had never claimed the same with her, even the one time he admitted how he felt. Granted, that had not been a good moment for anything. It was something that shamed Korra a little bit to this day. Her job was to bring Order, not Chaos, and that day and the ones following had been nothing but Chaos.
"Korra, before you go, I wanted to say something." She continued to look up at him, doing her best to not realize how his eyes were soft towards for what felt like the first time. She couldn’t afford to be connected to the mortal realm, not when it could keep her from connecting with the Divine realm. But she didn’t move. "Couldn’t you had said it earlier, I can’t do anything now, I have to prepare to meet Amon, end the cult of Aton."
"Considering all you’re doing is just practicing your swords, you can listen to me!" His voice raised for a moment before he pinched the bridge of his nose, breathing in deep to calm himself. "Korra, I love you."
"What?" Now he was going to admit it, when she was possibly going to die the next day? Or be so consumed by the Gods that she became their mortal shell, her own self obliterated? Now he was going to say it? She swatted him on the chest, leading to a confused, then downfallen look. And for the first time that night, A God broke through the cacophony, giving her guidance. Isis, the mother of all it seems, and the only mother she knew, her own parents denied their responsibility.
Let him love you. 'I can't,' Korra thought, even as she gripped Mako's arm. He could see in her eyes, the color leeching out as the Divine welled up in her, creating the glow in her eyes. You can. All Korra could do was think of the previous moments, the chaos they created, the fights, how it held her tightly to the mortal realm. It was then she felt something like nothing before. She fell into darkness, and woke into darkness.
Isis stood before her, breasts exposed as the Mother, the Throne on her head. Her divinity wrapped around her like a cloak, but the eyes were human. Not for the first time, did Korra wonder where the Gods really came from. IF they had ever been human like her. She came and wrapped her arms around Korra, enveloping her into herself, wrapping the sense of divinity around them both, hiding them. Her voice was a human singular, not the ringing voice of a dozen focused on the same set of words.
"We are asking a sacrifice from you. I cannot guarantee how much we will take from you. Let him love you, let yourself enjoy your mortality." Her voice was sad, even as she tilted her forehead against Korra’s, sharing breath. "Your mortality is a gift, enjoy it." The cloak fell away then, taking the darkness from her.
"Korra, Korra!" She raised a hand to shush him even as she tried to rouse herself. They didn’t need guards coming in. Her body felt strange, as if her soul was still stretching to fit inside of it again. She looked up at Mako, moving her hand to cup his face. "Mako, I’m scared."
She wanted to spill it all out, tell him how frightened she was to lose him, lose herself. The words came out in a jumbled mess, and she stopped herself, only one phrase slipping past her lips. “I love you too.” The smile, always so small, created small glimmers in his eyes. Enjoy it.
The Voice of The Gods laid silent inside, as she pressed her lips against his, feeling the familiar heat. It wasn’t like last time, where they were both demanding, both ignoring who they were hurting. This was warm like desert sand, like home. That night was simply Korra and Mako.