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"Shades of Azure: An Amorra Fanfic"

The sun was setting, sinking beyond the water.
The last golden rays of light danced over the bay, flickering through shades of all colors as Korra stared out at the statue of the former Avatar, arms hugging herself.
It had been exactly one day since Amon had left her helpless out there, crumpled and knocked out cold at the feet of Avatar Aang’s statue.
Korra shivered, not from the cold breeze that was whispering through Republic City, but from the hot coal of shame that still burned, fresh and hot, buried deep in her chest where it ached fiercely.
Helplessness.
Fear.
Anger.
Hurt.
Shame.
These were not things that Korra was used to feeling individually, let alone all at the same time, grabbing and clawing at her heart until she couldn’t just sit and meditate with Tenzin. She had needed to get out of the Temple, and do something.
And here she was, standing on the bridge, looking out at the memorial island.
She had walked the streets of Republic City most of the day by herself. She knew that Tenzin would have been furious had he known she was out there on her own, but she couldn’t even stand Naga seeing her like she was, and if she hadn’t wanted Naga to see her in her current state, then her Pro-bending team were definitely excluded from her outing as well. Mako looked down on her enough, and Bolin looked up to her much too high.
She couldn’t do this to them.
She couldn’t let them see that she wasn’t the Avatar that they thought she was. She couldn’t let them see that their Avatar was terrified of this man, no, this monster who was taking away people’s bending forever.
This monster who was saving her for last.
Cupping a small tongue of flame in her hands, Korra knew that she would rather die than be cut off from her bending. Her bending was a part of herself, a piece of her soul. What would happen if her bending was taken away? Would the cycle of the Avatar cease to exist?
Before she could clamp her lips shut a sob escaped her, and she clapped her hands over mouth.
And before she could think any further about the whole ordeal, she threw herself down into the ocean below.
For a split, wry second she wondered if anyone had been watching her. How horrified they must be now, how crushed at the sight of the Avatar throwing herself off of the tallest bridge in Republic City.
Her favorite element welcomed her with cold but comforting arms, cradling her as she sank below the water’s surface, unharmed.
She released the breath she had been holding, and watched as a rush of bubbles escaped her mouth, rising quickly to the surface.
She kicked her legs gently, floating, until her lungs and chest started to ache from the lack of air.
Then she rose with powerful strokes of her legs and arms, rising sleek, like a tigerseal, to the surface.
Korra’s breath came out in puffs of cold mist, and she shook from the freezing water that dragged silkily over her body as she swam swiftly towards the island, torches illuminating the marble statue.
She could have used her bending to propel her lightning fast through the water, but she didn’t.
Instead she found herself absorbed in her powerful arms, pulling herself through the water at a steady pace. She had always been a strong swimmer, even before her arms had grown lean with muscle after years and years of training. Her legs were even stronger, and she could run for miles without tiring.
Her teeth were chattering when she finally pulled herself up onto the island’s dock, her limbs trembling almost violently from the cold.
She was stiff as walked shakily down the dock, stretching to try and get rid of the taunt feeling the cold had brought to her limbs.
The wind grabbed at her hair and sodden clothes, and after a few moments of having her wet pony tails lashed against her face she let it down, sleek brown locks tumbling messily down her shoulders and back as she tugged the ties and metal clamps out of her hair.
She collapsed at the feet of the giant statue after climbing up onto the platform it rested on, her knees buckling as she sought shelter from the wind. Her clothes hung freezing and wet, clinging to her body.
For a second she thought about bending the water from them, but didn’t.
Instead she sat cross legged between the statue’s feet, eyes closed.
Korra breathed deeply, slowly, her hands falling into their proper positions, one atop each knee.
It was silent out on the memorial island, far away from the bustle of Republic City. She found that she liked the silence and breathed it in like air, letting it lull her into the peaceful, weightless feeling that Tenzin had been drilling her mercilessly to achieve.
It was ironic that she was able to do it on her own on a whim.
Her muscles relaxed, her eyes closing slowly, sleepily. A quiet hum buzzed through her body and mind, tugging her down, beneath a sort of veil.
She felt so at peace that a tear slipped down her cheek, hanging on her chin for a moment before falling onto one of her legs. She could no longer feel the cold, but instead felt comfortably warm.
Power bloomed far away, and Korra could hear it, a sort of musical call that tugged at her entire being.
She opened her eyes, and no longer saw the sweeping waves of the bay, or the lights that lit the statue.
Korra sat in a grove crowded with beautiful trees hanging with white blooming flowers that smelt soft and sweet, fluttering in a light, whispering breeze. Tall grass was soft and cushy beneath her, and a full moon hung suspended in a beautifully starry sky.
Everything was tinted in a shade of beautiful sapphire, sparkling trails streaking through the air at seemingly random times.
Korra’s heart raced in joy as a pure white butterfly fluttered over and landed on her arm, sweeping its lacy wings through the air in elegant strokes.
She was afraid to move, afraid to get up in case she lost her concentration or somehow disturbed her meditation. It was the only time she had ever managed to enter the Spirit World and she wanted to spend as much time as she could in that beautiful place.
She breathed deeply and carefully, holding her sitting position as relaxed as she could as she gazed around the grove, keeping still.
There was a small pool with a lovely waterfall cascading into it, perfectly bloomed panda lilies waving In the breeze at the foot of the water. The sound of the water trickling into the pool was almost therapeutic, and, had she not been so amazed, Korra might have fallen asleep after a few moments of the peaceful sound.
The flowery trees rustled in the breeze, and Korra spied a figure coming towards her, a tall, lean figure that weaved slowly and leisurely through the distance, coming closer and closer to her. Korra’s heart raced, and she trembled, trying to will herself still and calm.
But as the figure came closer, draped with the orange and red robes of the Air Bending Monks, Korra couldn’t hold back the gasp that crawled up her throat.
The calling grew stronger, and Korra could hear a sort of singing in the air, silvery blue shots of color streaking through the sky.
The figure swathed in those ever so familiar robes came even closer, and Korra couldn’t help but jump to her feet and run, run through that beautiful grove and towards that familiar figure, the figure that had ghosted through countless dreams, never talking, never even fully visible, but still there.
She threw herself at him, sobbing, crying in absolute joy.
Avatar Aang.
He was just as the portraits portrayed him in his middle aged youth instead of his later years: tall, handsome, with a neatly trimmed beard, almost exactly like Tenzin. His shoulders were broad, his arms corded with muscle. His eyes had a peaceful cast to them, but his mouth was pulled into a sad, mournful smile.
Korra felt a jolt of shock run through her, almost like electricity.
Why wasn’t he glad to see her?
“Korra.”
His voice was lulling, almost like music.
He grasped her firmly by the shoulders and looked deep into her eyes.
“Korra, you are in danger. You must go back!”
Her eyes widened, and she felt sorrow turn sour in the pit of her stomach.
“Go back, Korra.” He said gently, pushing loose hair out of her eyes. “We’ll meet soon again. I promise.”
Her bottom lip trembled, and she wanted to argue, but didn’t.
She didn’t want to leave this beautiful place, this place where the shame and fear couldn’t touch her, this place where her spirit guides dwelt and the secrets of the world lay.
Korra closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and pushed up with all her being, as if she were kicking towards the surface of the bay again, shoving through the water and ice of her homeland.
The cold came rushing back, stabbing icily into her skin as if a hundred icicles had somehow become attached to her arms and legs. A light sheen of frost crackled in her hair when she turned her head, eyes still tightly shut.
She breathed in, inhaling the scent of burning and temple incense, trying to shake the weightlessness that had somehow lingered in her body even after she returned from the Spirit World. The singing, calling sound echoed faintly in her mind, and she took another breath, tensing her stiff muscles.
She opened her eyes slowly, shoulders rising with another breath-
And found herself staring into blue eyes staring out at her from the slits of a mask, shadowed by the lights around the statue.
“I was beginning to wonder when you would notice my presence, Avatar.”
She was frozen, frozen as the ice that had clung to her chilled, water soaked clothes and skin, and the breath she had taken became caught in her throat.
“Korra, you are in danger.”
So that was what Aang had meant, that was why he had begged her to leave the Spirit World.
Because Amon sat before her, mirroring her meditation stance, staring at her with his almost empty eyes through the slits of that terrible mask.
She was suddenly brought back to a nightmare she’d had once.
In the dream some noise had woken her up, and Chi Blockers crashed through the paper screens, blocking her bending so fast she had no time to try and fight back safe for a few blasts of flame.
And then He came, placed his palm on her forehead, and she screamed, because she’d rather die, kill herself than lose her bending.
She’d woken up after that, because Naga had somehow made her way into her room and smothered her with Polarbeardog slobber until she was laughing, cuddling, and happy.
But this wasn’t a dream.
And Korra wasn’t going to wake up to Polarbeardog kisses.
“I often find myself here when I crave silence.” Amon continued, his eyes never straying from hers as he spoke. “Imagine my surprise when I arrive, and find you in my place instead.”
As if she had been under a trance, and then were able to break it, Korra took another breath, and found her voice again.
“That’s kind of ironic.” She said, hating herself for the breathless whisper that was her voice. “Meditating at the feet of your enemy.”
The wind was a soft howl now, and Korra shivered from the cold. She would have given almost anything for a warm, Water Tribe parka now, all plush and covered in warm furs. She flexed her hands, and watched as shards of ice pattered down on the stone below her.
Amon chuckled, a deep, dark sound, and Korra had to tense herself to keep from flinching.
“But who are you to talk of irony?” He said almost casually, sitting perfectly still and relaxed. “Is this not the very spot where I bested you?”
Korra couldn’t stop the choked laugh that passed her lips.
“You cheated.”
His eyes were intense, and for a moment Korra thought that she saw his mask move ever so slightly, as if he were smiling widely beneath it.
“I won.”
Another gust of wind howled through the sky and Korra shuddered, fighting hard not to hug herself against the cold. Instead she kept herself still, shivering, hands atop her knees, as if she were planning to continue her meditation.
Amon leaned forward and this time Korra did flinch, willing herself backward despite her stiff, cold limbs, gathering her hands into fists.
The two watched each other, although Korra followed his movements warily, as he shrugged off his cloak in an elegant, almost seamless motion, and draped the garment across Korra’s shoulders.
The garment was still warm as it hit her cold skin, melting the frost that had settled there.
“I don’t need!-“
He watched her coolly, carefully, and then said:
“Your lips are blue.”
She glared at him, bringing a hand slowly to her mouth, only to prod her cold, nearly frozen lips with now warmed fingertips.
Lightning fast, his hand darted out and caught her wrist, his eyes unreadable behind the shadowed slits of his mask as he leaned forward slowly, his free hand curled on the side of his mask.
“What are you-“
The look in his eyes stopped her question dead in its tracks, and she watched, transfixed, as the masked man leaned closer still.
Shame still burned freshly in her heart, which was crashing hard against her ribs. She felt like a scared animal, terrified of the man who had her in his very firm grasp. Fear made cold sweat side slowly down her back, over each vertebrae, even with the warm cloak and the cold wind howling.
“Close your eyes.” He said, pulling her wrist down, away from her face. “And be quiet.”
She was shaking violently now, knowing he could feel her fear, see it.
Embers burned in her free hand, smouldering, just waiting to form flames.
The bay’s waves grew fierce, and the wind howled menacingly overheard.
She closed her eyes slowly, and heard the rustle of Amon’s robs as he drew even closer, heard a slight clink of porcelain.
But she couldn’t help the question that was burning inside her, almost suffocating every thought and breath in her body.
“Are you going to take my bending?”
Her whisper cracked mid question, cracked with a desperate plea that she couldn’t force herself to say.
There was one thing that Korra would never do, even when faced with death:
And it was to beg him.
Never would she beg anyone for her life, or her bending.
He chuckled lightly this time, and she felt his warm breath on her cold lips.
“No.” Amon replied, his voice a purring whisper. “I am just going to claim my prize.”
Trembling in his grasp, Korra parted her lips to ask what he meant by prize, and-
Fire consumed her as lips rough with scar tissue crashed onto hers, gloved hands fisting into her loose, long hair. She heard ice crystals cracking as her mind reeled, those hands grasping her so tightly that she forgot to breathe.
This is wrong!
This is wrong!
This is wrong and I should stop, and-
That thought was beating fiercely at her mind, at her heart, but she found herself giving in, kissing back, her own hands twining into loose, soft hair as she was pushed onto her back. The smell of temple incense and burning was strong now, and Korra realized it was his scent.
Her screaming mind managed to register that Amon’s headquarters was probably in a temple somewhere.
That, or he had someone to mourn frequently.
Liquid fire was coursing through her veins, pooling into her belly as he kissed her, their tongues dueling for dominance. Her nails were sharp in his scalp, and he moaned ever so slightly into her mouth, igniting a wildfire in Korra’s body.
When he finally ended the kiss she was gasping for air, her lips red and the roots of her hair stinging from his grip.
A second passed as she took a breath, hands still fisted tightly in his hair.
She heard his intake of breath, and before anything else could be said, thought, before their conciseness could say otherwise, she yanked him back down on her, and kissed him.
The kiss was fire, anger, power, a fight for dominance that was full of tongue and teeth and not even remotely as gentle as the first. Her hands left his hair and rubbed up his chest instead, fingers yanking at the buckles of his shirt, undoing them and pulling it roughly off of his body, her hands running over his muscular torso. Her fingers traced the lines of hard muscles and rough rivers of scar tissue, sharp nails biting into his back when he sank his teeth into her bottom lip.
She moaned this time, the sound reverberating into their mouths.
She ended the kiss this time, chest heaving as she fought for breath, and heard rustling.
Then scarred hands were yanking her shirt over her head, and she leaned up, eyelids fluttering slightly.
“Keep your eyes closed.”
His voice was rough, almost a panting, breathless sound, and she made sure he could see her squeeze her eyes shut tighter.
She fumbled with the wrappings around her breasts, searching for the small knot on one side that held them tightly wrapped and closed.
Korra felt something sharp and cold press lightly at her bare collarbone, and she whimpered slightly before she could stop herself, pushing upwards at his slightly elevated body.
Her thigh brushed his groin, and for the first time she realized exactly how hard he was even through the layers of his pants, and, how large.
She groaned as she felt the cold sharpness travel down, then rip through her bindings, tearing the linen to pieces. There was a singing of metal, like the clattering of a blade on stone, and rough hands ripped the bindings away from her chest.
Her nipples grew hard as soon as they were bared to the freezing air, and that little voice in the back of her head that told her NO THIS IS WRONG WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! Was instantly silenced when rough, scarred fingers pinched one nipple, forcing a whimper out of her before she could bite down on her lip and silence herself.
He kneaded her other breast, and Korra almost keened as he kissed the pinched nipple, then bit down lightly.
She heard his murmured laughter as he bestowed the same attentions to her neglected breast.
Korra supposed he thought this whole thing was hilarious; He, the leader of the equalists, taking the Avatar beneath the statue of her predecessor.
How very fitting.
How ironic it was.
How very utterly humiliating it was, more so because she wanted it, wanted more than anything at that moment for him to take her, finish her, before she could think organized thoughts and try to burn him alive for even daring to kiss her.
And, being the man that he was, Amon seemed to read her mind.
He kissed her again, and she greedily devoted his lips, her hands in his hair again as he removed the pelt from her waist. She kicked feet free of her boots so he could pull down her pants, her own hands working at his belt so that she could feel him hot and hard in her hand.
He was massive, and she felt fear for the hundredth time that night.
Korra knew it would hurt. Katara had taught her about a man and woman’s couplings when she was trained in her waterbending. After her first bleed they began the healing sessions, and Katara had explained all about how a man and a woman made children, and exactly how a Water Bending woman could stop the process of childbearing after the act.
Katara even told her how it was done, and, with crimson cheeks, Korra had proclaimed that she didn’t need to know, for she would save her virginity for her marriage bed.
Oh, how wrong she had been.
“Remember, Avatar.” He murmured silkily into her ear, as she dug her nails into his shoulders when he positioned himself just right, her legs yanked up where he wanted them. “Eyes closed.”
He kissed her, gently this time, almost a caress of his lips.
Then he was inside her with one rough, powerful thrust, and she sobbed into his mouth, nails ripping into his back. Blood trickled from the marks and he hissed in pleasure, pulling back, then slamming in again.
It was a hard, fast pace, and all Korra felt was pain for a few long moments, just the push and pull of the now slick, hard member inside of her tight entrance.
But then the wildfire that had been growing inside of her exploded into an inferno, clawing at her limbs, veins, at her eyes and at every single inch of her flesh as she screamed, the sound muffled by his lips.
She met him thrust for thrust then, fire-hot pleasure beating at her like a thousand fists, eating at her, clawing at her.
He groaned, pulled her legs up higher, and slammed deep inside of her one last time, so hard that white fire roared behind her eyes, pulling her down beneath its depths with caressing, clawing hands. Pleasure claimed her, drowning her, burning, her, suffocating her, shaking her as he came, hot and fast within her.
She was weightless, the word beneath her closed eyes bathed in shades of blue, blues of the sky, the sea, of her eyes, and of his eyes.
And then, as Amon lay on top of her, steadying his breathing with his arms corded with muscle wrapped tightly around her so that she couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, her vision tinted back to black.
The two laid there for eons, eternities, millenniums . She felt his scars on her skin, curled her fingers into his long mane, and just breathed.
No fear.
No anger.
No hurt.
No shame.
There was nothing but bliss, nothing but bliss and satisfaction with a touch of exhaustion.
She didn’t open her eyes when he finally released her, nor did she look when he gathered his clothes, and dressed. She heard the rustling of his shirt when he pulled it on, heard the chink of his mask when he picked it up.
She looked then, when he adjusted his belt, his cloak wrapped snugly around her naked body.
He glanced at her once when he walked away, to make it clear that the battle wasn’t over, that although this meant something, not nothing, that the war would go on.
That he had claimed his prize.
She managed to gather her own clothes, bend the proper fluids out of her body and swim back to the temple before collapsing on her floor instead of in her bed, where she belonged.
She dreamed that night instead of drowning in nightmares.
She dreamed, and slept.
All in shades of Azure.

Источник: Shades of Azure: An Amorra Fanfic by Serenity

@темы: arts, сериалы и фильмы, фанфики, которые мне понравились, Avatar (ATLA&TLOK), ОТП