Moon Drops

Within Each Soul is a Will to Strive for Acceptance

Korra was bored. It had been a little over a week since she had married the councilman, and she had to admit that she was starting to feel a little homesick. She hadn't really left Tarrlok's estate since she first arrived, except to feed Naga. Maybe she could speak with Tarrlok about it. Korra laughed aloud like that was some sort of joke. She couldn't talk about something like that with Tarrlok—it was Tarrlok for crying out loud. Still, he was her husband, and Korra knew that the key to any good relationship was to be open and honest.

She stood outside the sliding mahogany doors of the study for a moment. Maybe this was a bad idea. She cast that thought aside. Even if it was a bad idea, she still had to do this. Korra threw open the sliding doors and strutted into the quiet study where Tarrlok was busy attending a mountain of overdue paperwork for the council. He didn't spare her a single glance, not even when she was right in front of his desk.

"You and I need to talk."

Those eerie words, that same demanding tone—he remembered all too clearly the events that had occurred in his council office a year ago. That fight was forever embedded in his mind, and as much regret as he felt from it, he knew he would never be free from that scene. It had been the one time he could remember being truly afraid, but he refused to fear his temperamental Avatar wife; Tarrlok would not make the same mistakes twice.

"After I finish this."

Korra's brow furrowed. That response was unacceptable. Tarrlok was the one who said he wanted to marry her, whether it was because she was the Avatar or whatever, all Korra knew was he ought to know better than to keep her waiting—she wasn't especially talented with the art of patience. Korra blasted a whirlwind at the neat stacks of paper on her husband's desk, sending parchment flying all over the room. The expression of surprise and shock on his face made her want to laugh, but she refrained from doing so in order to make her point.

The Avatar crossed her arms over her robust bosom. "Now."

Still recovering from the tornado that just hit his favorite room in the mansion, Tarrlok attempted to maintain a careful level of decorum. He tried to think of what could be so important that Korra wanted to talk about it right this instant—even going so far as to airbend his work away from him! That smug smirk crept over his face as he set down his quill. "You certainly have a way of getting a man's attention, Dearest."

The sound of that word rolling off his tongue, the emphasis on it and the knowledge that he was referring to her: the very thought was enough to make her ill. The only time Korra could remember Tarrlok being sincere was when Amon had captured him and taken his bending. He was humbled more-so now by his ruined appearance, but Tarrlok had still managed to return to his old shenanigans. She watched him lean back in his comfy chair. "Well?" His words were careful and precise, "what is it we need to talk about?"

"I'm tired of being locked away as your little housewife. I'm the Avatar! I should be out there helping people! And I need more than just the servants to talk to," her hands flailed wildly around her as she expressed her frustrations to him, "and you've not been anywhere! It's unfair that you want to keep me trapped here like a prisoner while you do whatever scheming nonsense you're up to!"

Korra never ceased to amused him—and for as scary as her fury could be, he was actually rather fond of her temper. Tarrlok listened intently as she continued to verbally abuse him for his lackluster performance on various issues, including—but not limited to: his knack for ignoring the values of punctuality, the amount of delicate mirrors and exquisite portraits of himself hung all over the walls of "their" mansion, and how uninvolved he was when it came to his responsibilities over the household servants. "I mean, Nagi is the only one doing anything around here, but we're paying dozens of servants? For what? I thought you were supposed to be Mr. Efficiency! Why should we—"