|Lost in Translation
Author: chromeknickers PM
Translation is the other side of the tapestry; it's hidden for good reason. But to find yourself lost in that tapestry might not be such a bad thing. - A collection of LoK drabble arcs and one-shots, mainly featuring Makorra.Rated: Fiction T - English - Adventure/Romance - Korra & Mako - Chapters: 23 - Words: 28,257 - Reviews: 319 - Favs: 165 - Follows: 144 - Updated: 02-12-13 - Published: 08-21-11 - Status: Complete - id: 7311030
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A/N #1: These are a collection of drabbles and one-shots (some are long) that I have written but never posted until now. They are all going to be based on The Legend of Korra, and the first four are considered part of my Fools Rush In!verse. Some of the other drabbles/one-shots might turn out to be canon-ish, but most will likely be lost in translation.
A/N #2: This is just a reminder that most of these stories (chapters 1-10) were written more than eight months before the show officially aired, before I even knew the Krew's personalities or that Mako and Bolin were Pro-benders (and that Korra would join in on the fun). So everything written here was pure speculation at the time, especially characterisation. Still, I hope you enjoy it. ^_^
This entire collection is dedicated to my bras at #Makorra on DA, especially senbo-sama, Haefaciel, and suiseiusagi.
No Way Out
There is no other way out. They're trapped. Mako has to take the shot or else everything the Avatar's fought for is gone. Her dreams, her ambitions—all ruined with the fell stroke of a madman's blade. And all that Korra can think of is this—not this—it can't end this way; it can't end at the hands of a merciless tyrant—
She strains against her bonds and the blade pressed to her throat digs in deeper, a thin rivulet of blood escapes and trails down her neck. Amon's grip on her tightens and he holds her close. Head tilted at an uncomfortable angle, Korra's blue eyes seek golden-yellow. She searches Mako's face, watching it contort in anger and pain—or maybe it's fear. He and Bolin have come all this way, fighting through an army just to get to her, and Mako seems almost paralysed, lightning crackling in his palms.
"Dammit, Mako!" she cries, struggling against Amon. "Take the shot!"
It's either kill Amon or wait until the rest of his men show up and take them all down. Bolin's picking off the stragglers, howling back at them to get the fuck out because he can't hold the "bad guys" off much longer. There's blood on his clothes, and Korra wonders if it's his. Mako, on the other hand, is completely covered in blood—the thick red liquid is smeared across his cheeks like tribal war paint. There's so much of it; it's never bothered her before, but—oh gods—it's never been Mako's blood. He's taken so many knives for her—
One of the Equalists tears open Bolin's arm with a shuriken and he roars: "Mako!"
"Do it!" Korra screams, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Do it now, now, now—"
Korra bolts awake, her shirt soaked through at the back with sweat. How long has she been out? Minutes, hours, days, weeks? Where is she? Are Mako and Bolin okay? Is Amon dead?
Two strong hands are suddenly on her shoulders, pressing her down. She struggles, but then the earth rises up to meet her and swallows her, sucking her body back down to the ground. Green eyes meet blue.
He's smiling down at her with Pabu on his shoulder. He places the ferret on the ground and it sniffs at Korra's face, nudging her cheek with a gentle headbutt.
"What happened?" she croaks, reaching out to pat Pabu on the head.
"You were knocked unconscious," Bolin answers glibly, pulling the covers up to her chin. "You've been out for two days now. You were burning up pretty bad so I brought you outside for some fresh air. Your fever's broken, but you need to take it easy."
Korra ignores his advice and sits up, bringing a hand to her head. It feels light, like someone pumped air into her ear. She's dizzy and nauseated. Suddenly, she remembers what happened: Amon had held her captive and Mako was about to report his lightning when her whole world went dark.
"Amon, where is he?"
She glances around furtively and sees that they are at camp somewhere outside the city limits near the mountains. The stars are twinkling brightly above her and the cool air tickles her skin. Relaxing momentarily, she lets herself slump back into Bolin, who is trying to steady her from behind.
"He escaped after Mako tried to hit him with lightning."
"Tried?" Korra frowns. "He missed?"
Bolin lets out a frustrated sigh. "Korra, Amon was holding you as a shield in front of him. Mako couldn't take the shot without hitting you too. In fact, that's why you're hurt." She turns to look up at him. "You absorbed some of the electricity."
"Yeah, well, I'm fine now," she says, bringing her fingers to her temple.
He snorts. "Sure you are."
Korra gives him an evil glare and then her eyes suddenly widen in shock and remembrance.
"Mako! Where's Mako? Is he okay?"
"He's resting." Bolin points to a tent several feet away. "I had to carry the both of you back here." A mirthless grin angles across his lips. "He's—he's lost a lot of blood."
Korra sweeps her eyes across the camp until they settle on Mako's tent. She struggles to get to her feet but her legs just won't allow it. They give out and she falls back down on her ass.
"How's he doing?"
"Okay." Bolin shrugs and rises, fetching her a waterskin. "I found a Waterbender in the city—an old friend of Mako's. She's in there with him right now."
Korra furrows her brow and stares long and hard at the tent. "Oh."
"She looked in on you, too," he adds, offering her a bowl of rice. "She said you'll be fine in a few days, especially since your fever broke."
Korra nods and clears her throat, taking the bowl of rice from Bolin. Her eyes are still trained on Mako's tent, looking for signs of movement.
Bolin is silent, so silent that Korra turns her attention away from the tent to look up at him, nudging him gently.
"I'm not sure," he admits, his voice thick with emotion. "Asami says he'll make it, but he might not be able to bend for a while."
Korra looks down at her plate and is no longer hungry. She shakes her head, quelling the feelings that rise in her chest. There's no use in trying to understand them—not now.
"I still don't understand why it took him so long to take the shot," she whispers, her voice less strong than she had hoped.
"Seriously?" Bolin asks with that familiar lightness to his tone, as he grabs his own bowl of rice and begins to eat. "Honestly, Korra, sometimes I think you're even more clueless than he is."