There must be other hobbies...

[mortemscintilla]

WHO: Korra and Hei
WHAT: Post-Book 4. Two crazy kids take a break.

[ A quickie vacation -- that's how Hei floated it to Korra. Don't ask him where the money came from. Don't ask him to justify it. Just say you’ll come.  ]

[ They'd (half-jokingly, half-wistfully) planned a similar trip years ago, when still tangled in the mess with the Spirit Portals. It had never fallen through. War, its immediacy and aftermath, meant work, after all. The idea of a holiday was a distant fantasy in the overwhelming rumble of their busy lives. Lives full of conflicts and separations, trials and errors, from which frivolous indulgences were silently excluded. ]

[ Still, Hei had thought about it sometimes, in varying moods of sentimentality and cynicism. Time spent with Korra -- so close, so uninterrupted -- could've been either hellish or heavenly. He could imagine either a long dreamlike trip, driving with her tucked against his side, his arm around her, absorbing her pretty prattle in his ear. Or an interminable torment of sulky silences and shrieking fights, with flat tires, bad directions, shitty motels and worse meals to compound their misery. ]

[ In truth, it falls something in between. It's like they're two sugar-charged teenagers on a roadtrip, instead of adults who suffer from night-terrors and creeping stress triggers. Brimming with antsy energy, bickering over radio stations, greedily slurping noodles from the same bowl, but on the cusp of a perpetual uncertainty, as if they're not sure how long this grace-period will last. ]

[ They make it past the Hu Xin provinces before their rented Satomobile goes kaput. The vehicle, built for lowland city driving, struggles in the thinner air of the mountains, excess fuel backing up into the carburetor. No matter. They hitch a tow-ride until they find an auto-shop. Barely have to drop a penny, after the grizzled mechanic realizes it's The Avatar's satomobile. Fan belts, oil top-ups, lube-jobs -- shucks, they are on the house. ]

[ They come down to the Earth Kingdom in an evening train, stealing kisses between the snores of a grouchy old coot with whom they have to share the compartment. Share a hot bath and a slow, breathless fuck in an inn far from the best, but whose discomforts pale beside Hei's precarious contentment at being here with Korra. In the morning sunshine, they sail for the Mo Ce Sea, a crossing placid as a paddle round a pond -- until he's hit with a horrible sea-sickness. Slumped in their dim little cabin. it is hard to distinguish land from water. The floor seems to dip and roll beneath his feet. The slats of sunlight from the portholes make his head ache. Waiting to reach land, Hei curls up under the sheets of their bed, massaging his temples with both hands, gritting his teeth as he tries to master his heaving stomach -- while not-so-stoically ignoring the twinkle of amusement in Korra's eyes. ]

[ By the time they disembark at the Fire Nation's capital city, the nausea has receded, though his face rivals the color of the wan gray sky. It's almost dusk; he's logy and slow-headed from the long crossing. But the city, like every city, wakes him up. The lit-up buildings, in their towering brilliance, remind him of Bangkok, as does the stop-and-start traffic, the crowds on foot surging in and out of every dazzling golden entrance. Nothing like Republic City -- a place he's only just begun to pronounce with Home-flavored syllables -- but amazing in its own right. ]

[ As amazing as it was the first time he'd visited -- except now, Korra is at his side, bright-eyed and fizzling with energy like a can of soda all stirred-up. ]

[ Twining his fingers with hers, he squeezes lightly, ]

What should we do first?

Comments

[mortemscintilla]

[ The train rattles along at its leisurely pace, settling into stations along the way, waiting for passengers to board and depart, easing forward again with its musical tinkling of chin-chin. Korra's hand is a soft warm curl in his. It seems so small and delicate, the individual bones pressing out like webs, that it's easy to forget the power she wields at those fingertips. ]

[ Easy to forget a lot of things -- but never completely. ]

[ Following her gaze to the little girl, who is now occupied with singing to herself and kicking her tiny red-shoed feet, it's not difficult to guess the train of her thoughts. It's strange; in the wake of the miscarriage, Hei remembers someone -- Su Yin, maybe Tenzin -- had warned him he might become more aware of parents with infants. It's true that he'd felt, in public places, like they were fucking everywhere: walking babies in strollers, holding them in their arms, gazing at their small, red-mottled, half-monkey faces with such crippling devotion. But it hadn't stirred any sense of ruefulness in him. ]

[ The only time -- months after the disaster -- that he'd felt the actual wave of loss crest, was at a supermarket. There, as he'd silently grumbled to himself over the rising cost of fresh vegetables, he'd been ambushed in the middle of the shampoo aisle by a woman singing a familiar nursery-rhyme about radishes to her wispy-haired toddler. At least, it had sounded like the nursery rhyme from his homeworld, in the brief snatches he'd heard, before a flood of queasiness blindsided him. He'd wanted to storm out of the store, because he was suddenly sick with a bitter misery, to find somewhere quiet and dark where he could calm down. Instead he'd held onto the edge of the shelf in front of the Varri-Dye display, forcing his face back into a rigid mask of order, and hoping no one he knew would happen along. ]

[ He'd never wanted a damn baby. Still doesn't. But fighting Contractors was nothing to losing one. ]

[ Gently, he unbuttons his gaze from the little girl, who has gone quiet, watching him with her small round face so solemn in its frame of squiggly hair. He's reminded, uncomfortably, that unless he assumes 'Li's false air of bonhomie, children are wary of him. Maybe it's because they sense things adults have learned to suppress. ]

[ It's a relief when they finally roll to their stop. He hasn't even realized how tightly he's been gripping Korra's hand, fingers twined in a cramp of something like anxious need. Slowly, they exit the tram. Edged by a dark fringe of mountains, the hot spring resort holds the eye-bruising shade of a courtesan's jewelry box. Arterial red, braided with dizzying shades of gold, in typical Fire Nation style. Even from the entrance, the air holds the thick aroma of sulfur. ]

[ In a quiet but normal-sounding voice, he says, ]

I'm thinking a dip before dinner? It's bad to swim on a full stomach.

[anatural]

[He's always been too good at reading her thoughts; she can tell from the way he's clutching her hand. She squeezes it back but says nothing. He doesn't like to think back on the baby, she knows; it was both a bullet dodged and an opportunity lost for him too.

As for his suggestion, she shakes her head.]

Food first. I want to be able reeeeeeeally relax and take my time.

[mortemscintilla]

[ He tips a shoulder, a silent, Suit yourself, but with no reluctance. During the ride, a creeping hunger had begun gnawing at his belly. By now, it's a gurgling nuisance, signaling that he's past his bout of seasickness. Besides. He likes that wicked lilt of suggestion -- real or imagined -- in Korra's tone, as she mentions taking her time. ]

[ Keeping his fingers loosely laced with hers, he guides her up the blood-red double doors, which swing open, wafting a false breeze of recycled semi-tropical air into their faces. The place is as he remembers: ornate but somehow elegant, the staff solicitous as they take his bookings for a private pool. Most recognize Korra easily; the formal greetings they offer her, so similar to the Chinese Gong Shou, make Hei think, dimly, that everything, from the Balinese sembah, the Thai wai, the Indian namaste, the Japanese bow, the western handshake ... The original function of all these salutations was to show the other person you weren't armed and dangerous. Politeness determined by the eschewal of a weapon. Peace as the absence of war. ]

[ The buffet has upgraded since his last visit. Steamed crabs with scallion. Whole roast squab served with wafer-thin lemon slices and ceramic bowls of sauce for dipping. Sugary sticky rice stuffed into the holes of lotus root and braised to bring out a crisp sweetness. Pork belly in honey. Whole steamed fish. Soft-boiled eggs coated in caviar. ]

[ His stomach oinks, noisily, like the greedy pig it is. ]

[ Hold him back, Korra. There is every danger of him diving into the lavish buffet without ever resurfacing. ]

[anatural]

[She'll give it her best. Which right now means elbowing him none-too-gently.]

Don't eat everything. Other people paid to be here too.

[Of course, that's not stopping her from piling her plate high. She's really hungry.]

[mortemscintilla]

Their fault for being too slow.

[ Words to live by. At least where his stomach is concerned. ]

[ He loads his plate with a cornucopia of steaming protein and starchy titbits. The other diners appear to be mostly Fire Nation citizens: for all the interested glances he and Korra get, they are clearly the only tourists at the resort right now. The local reaction to this, as during his last visit, consists of toasts from other tables encouraging Hei and Korra to down their mulled wines in one swallow, and the prompt refilling of their glasses. Another reaction is to cheerfully force the hottest dishes at the buffet on them. Hei is at least somewhat familiar with this sport from back in his homeworld: watching unfortunate white foreigners take a mouthful of food, almost choke at the spiciness, guzzle copious quantities of whatever liquid is on their table, while the locals laughed their asses off. ]

[ Against his better judgement -- and his vows to stay away from the fiery stuff -- he piles chicken with chili and lemongrass, eye-wateringly hot, into his plate. Smiles innocently at the neighboring table as he scoops up a spoonful of the raw, sliced chilies from the condiment tray and adds them to his bowl. If he can survive those spicy scorpions back in Republic City, he can endure this. ]

[ To Korra, between placid bites and watery eyes, he murmurs, ]

I hope the firebender in you likes hot stuff.

[ Because this is going to turn into a pissing contest, and he's damned if he's going to let a bunch of snooty Fire Nation jerks win. ]

[anatural]

[It's like he's channeling her from four years ago. It's as surprising as it is funny.]

What makes you think I'm participating in this madness? [She's Water Tribe; they don't do these crazy spices. She'll stick with the foods she recognizes as on the mild end, thanks.

But hey, she's totally cheering you on in this little quest of yours. You can tell because she's helping him pile spicy food on his plate.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ It seems less like help than assisted suicide. But Hei has dined on some pretty unusual fare on his travels. Always with relish. A few extra spices shouldn't faze a boy who was once raised on Chongqnig cuisine. (He hopes). ]

[ Chewing ostentatiously, his expression -- despite the flushed cheeks and moistened eyes -- does not alter. But he makes a brief tch-ing sound of perfunctory disapproval when Korra doesn't join in. ]

At least try the soup. [ He nudges the bowl -- blood-red with gold trim -- toward her. ] Good for stamina.

[ Not spicy, either. Just loaded with the usual Fire Nation nutrients. Spring water. Mountain vegetables. Turtle blood. Caterpillar fungus. ]

[anatural]

That better be a promise. [Well-played innuendo, Hei. Well played. She takes the bowl and takes a big spoonful.]

Mmm. What kind of fish is this? It's good.

[mortemscintilla]

[ It was thrown in there more for smokescreen than anything else. ]

Not fish. Bug fungus.

[ He slurps his own with gusto, his spoon barely clinking on the edge of the bowl. (Don't freak out, Korra. Those Fire Nation boys and girls must be feisty and smoking-hot for a reason. If it's good enough for them, it's good enough for you.) ]

[anatural]

[She chokes.]

Bug fungus?

[What on earth is bug fungus?!]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei pinches in the start of a smile. Relax, Korra. It's not the gross stuff that grows on Varrick's feet. ]

It's a fungus that eats the bodies of caterpillars, high up in the mountains. It leaves behind this dried brown husk that tastes like fish. It's supposed to cure cancer. Help people with fertility issues.

[anatural]

[You are not doing a particularly good job of selling this fungus stuff. The look Korra gives the soup is not only dubious, but outright suspicious.]

I'm pretty sure fertility is not something I need to worry about.

[Of course, how would she know if she's infertile now? They use condoms and she takes herbs to prevent pregnancy. The lack of pregnancy scare since the miscarriage could be a hint that the poison damaged her reproductive system, or it could just mean that what they're doing is working. Either way, since the ultimate goal is not to get pregnant, it's not a problem.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ The long-term damage the poison wrought on her system is something he'd prefer not to consider. Nothing in life is certain. But she's healthy and happy here and now. That's enough for him. It seems enough for Korra, too. ]

[ Of course, as time passes, it might not be. She's caught up right now with getting her mojo back, coasting on a wave of self-pride and fulfillment a mile high. It's gratifying to witness. But sooner or later, as her life grows less volatile, as she settles into herself ... what if she wants another baby? He doesn't want any more truck with bringing up brats. Especially after she'd nearly died the first time. But ... There was something miraculous, wasn't there, about that period? About knowing there was a ball of churning cells inside her, busy and vibrating with life, forming into something entirely theirs? ]

[ He keeps the confused furor of thoughts off his face. Stirs the soup, then lifts a neat spoonful out of the bowl, cupping his hand beneath to catch the drip. He extends it to Korra. ]

It's also a tonic. To rebuild your strength after a bad injury or illness.

[anatural]

[She's feeling pretty strong, Hei. She's still not entirely sold.]

Tell you what. Beat me in arm wrestling and I'll eat that bug fungus.

[mortemscintilla]

[ To his credit, Hei blinks only a moment, spoon arrested in the air, before he shoots her a look, then a languid, private half-smile. Way too private for a crowded banquet hall, but that is a Contractor for you. ]

Suppose I let you win on purpose?

[ It's not his usual way. But neither is it a juvenile relapse into testing who's stronger. With his enemies, it was not about counterpunching, because that meant they were still making you fight their kind of fight. The way to win was to change the game entirely. ]

[anatural]

Then I guess you'd have to eat the soup yourself. You were the one sick on the boat, remember. I think you need it more than I do.

[mortemscintilla]

[ Fine, okay, you know what. If you keep bringing up his shame, you get no soup at all. Ever. ]

More for me.

[ (Maybe he can shanghai her into trying some of that snake-wine on the menu. It's supposed to be an aphrodisiac.) ]

[anatural]

[RUUUUUUUUUUUDE she wanted to play!] You're no fun. [She makes a face, kicks his shin, and piles her plate with actual fish. From the sea. Not regurgitated bugs.

The waiter comes by, asking if they'd like anything to drink.]

Water, please. And maybe some milk for this guy? [She be trolling.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Jesus, Korra. There is more to life than fish. Live on the edge a little. ]

No milk. [ He places a hand over his glass, while directing a small, sidelong scowl Korra's way. It lacks its usual edge, though: underneath his sullen surface, there's a small bright spark of something almost playful. ] We'll have a bottle of shéjiu.

[anatural]

[Hey, she's tried plenty of other foods! There's nothing wrong with eating fish! As the waiter nods and leaves, Korra leans over and lowers her voice.]

Do you mean to get me drunk so you can have your wicked way with me? [Because you don't have to get her drunk to do that.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ A smile tugs at one side of Hei's mouth. But he keeps a perfectly straight face, ignoring the lovely heat wafting off her as she leans in close, her scent like crushed grass and highland seaside air, carrying as if on a breeze. ]

Maybe it's so I have a chance to actually win at arm-wrestling.

[ His voice is matter of fact, but somehow conveys in even its most bland and ordinary tone a touch of innuendo. He breaks his gaze only when the waiter arrives, bearing a lacquered tray with a glossy red bottle -- one of those ridiculously enormous ones, bigger than a magnum -- and two golden cups. When the tray is set before him and Korra, Hei can see the dead cobras floating around in the bottle. ]

[ Dryly, without looking at Korra, ]

At least it's not bug-fungus?

[anatural]

[Korra just stares at the bottle. Snakes? Really?]

I am not surprised that that is a drink. You would have to be drunk to think drinking fermented snake juice is a good idea.

[mortemscintilla]

It's not poisonous. Believe it or not.

[ The waiter lifts the large aquarium-like bottle, pouring into the small silver cups. The liquid is a radiant green and yellow cocktail resembling the shades of lime and mango jell-o. It glows almost eerily, the overhead lights reflecting on its surface like a shimmering ring of sparks. ]

[ Quaffing the blood of an irradiated god, Hei thinks wryly. He takes one cup, nudging the other toward Korra. Clinks the rims gently together, before sniffing at the liquid in his cup, letting his eyes slip half-shut, and downing it in one smooth gulp. ]

[anatural]

[Just because it's not poisonous doesn't make it a good idea. She watches him down the shot and hesitantly picks up her cup. The smell is strong — unpleasant — reminds her of being out in the desert after the Earth Queen tried to imprison her. But she's feeling game for a challenge.

So she gulps it the way he does. And nearly spits it out.]

BLECH — [She looks around frantically and sees the next table has a glass of juice.] Excuse me I'm sorry I'll pay you back — [She grabs the cup and downs it. Not juice, unfortunately... but as a wine, it tastes better than the snake piss he put in her cup.]

That was disgusting. [And. Uh. Now she's going to sit down, because that's going to hit her soon.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei watches the unfolding disaster mutely, with an undecided mix of amusement and disbelief. Spending time with Korra sometimes is like being around a cartoon -- that comical volatility that triggers his disdain but just as often disarms it into a strange contentment. ]

[ A baffling affliction, love. It's already tamed him enough to accept a semblance of liabilities in his life -- allies, a visible homefront, interactions with individuals who bear no practical use beyond being Korra's family, a stable if not shady career. But Korra's recent illness feels like it's turned him downright mush-brained, at least between the tough love and prolonged separations. Good thing his capacity for intense emotion is, by nature, tightly-trammeled -- or else they'd probably be swapping Hallmarks and stuffed teddies by this point. ]

[ (Still, it's hard to deny that without Korra, he'd have gone round the bend fast -- back in the City, and out here.) ]

[ Dryly, ]

It's an acquired taste.

[ Yes, do sit down. And don't pass out on him. ]