#amonlok

He needed a break.

He sat back in his chair and stretched; lifting his arm overhead, arching his back, and letting his head fall back. His long fingers folded together as he turned his palms upward to pull the kinks out of arms and relieve his aching back.  His eyes slipped closed and he groaned in pleasure.

As he slowly settled back into his seat, he smiled and sighed.  His head felt clear again.

But as soon as he opened his eyes, he found himself staring at Tarrlok.  The councilman hadn’t moved an inch in all the time they’d been sitting alone in the room.  The politician slouched in his chair, his empty, soulless eyes were focused on a point somewhat above and to the left of the lieutenant.  His long, straight hair and fallen down to hang around his long, angular face and his fancy clothes were rumpled and unkempt.  He looked worn down and tired, but it was possibly a trick of the light.  The long, deep shadows in the room settled along the countless lines of the face, exaggerating and warping features.

Even the handsomest man could appear haggard and hideous in this light.

Now that Zhen was looking at the councilman, he found that he couldn’t tear his eyes away and the cruel thoughts that tormented him roared to the forefront of his mind.  His jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed into hateful slits.  Jealousy, contemptible and poisonous, gnawed at his insides.

He drew in a deep, unsteady breath and pushed himself to his feet.  He began to gather up the remaining files on the table, moving slowly and methodically as he struggled to keep his mind on the task before him…

But his tired brain would not let him forget what he’d seen.

He could not deny what he had witnessed, could he?  Amon and Tarrlok had shared a moment during the meeting and, in watching their interactions, Zhen could only come to one conclusion: they had a history.  A history that was old and complex and bitter. And the Lieutenant was certain that whatever feelings had existed between the two men were still there, just beneath the surface.

He wanted to pretend that it wasn’t true, but how could it be anything but?  He’d never seen anyone toy with Amon before.  He hadn’t believed it was possible.  Tarrlok, however, had seemed to know exactly how to provoke the Equalist Leader.  And all throughout the meeting the two men had shared looks…

Zhen had seen warmth and concern in his superior’s eyes when he’d looked at the vile councilman. There had been real warmth and concern in his expression.  At times the lieutenant had believed that his commander was simply searching for the right words to say to ease Tarrlok’s suffering.

Ease Tarrlok’s suffering!?

Against his better judgement, Zhen cast a glance at Tarrlok.  He nearly jumped when he saw that the ex-blood bender’s eyes were on him.

Zhen met the councilman’s cold, empty eyes with a stony, angry leer.  Tarrlok simply raised a brow and tilted his head slightly as if to ask, ‘yes, and?’

The lieutenant turned away sharply and continued gathering papers from the table.  His lips pulled into a thin, hard line and he frowned.

Why did Amon care about this wretched excuse for a human being!?  Why had the Equalist Leader seemed so contrite after he’d finally snapped at Tarrlok—after the councilman had baited him no less?

Zhen’s fingers gently caressed the paper in front of him.  He froze as his mind replayed the entire conflict.

… when that terrible confrontation had occurred…

…the way they’d looked at each other…

It was as though there was a terrible open wound, festering between them…

But why had Amon seemed so eager to heal the injury and Tarrlok so quick to seemingly reject every overture?—as if the very thought of trying to right the wrong was abhorrent to him!? As if the councilman had been the injured party!?

And how dare Tarrlok refuse Amon’s efforts to make amends?  It was astounding to think the Equalist Leader would ever even ask a blood bender—even a former one—for forgiveness!

And what was the councilman’s problem?  Was the grievance, the trespass, so completely vile and despicable that no amount of kindness or undeserved compassion could possibly earn the politician’s forgiveness!?  Whatever had happened, the politician probably deserved it!

Nevertheless, the lieutenant ground his teeth.  How dare that man reject Amon’s good will!?

The Equalist leader did not give his trust, his kindness… his forgiveness lightly.  Watching his commander’s attempts at reconciliation so viciously and coldly trod upon stung!  Especially when such benevolence was offered to someone so vile and undeserving!

…especially when it was not given half so easily to Amon’s most loyal followers…

Zhen flipped a file closed with far more force than necessary and slammed it down on top of the stack he was assembling.  He immediately reached for the next one, unaware of how violent his movements had become.

There was a soft “ahem,” from the man across from him.

Zhen looked up sharply. His eyes met the curious gaze of the councilman, now seated comfortably across from him.

The two men stared each other down.

This man, this vile, ex-bender, had provoked such powerful and extraordinary reactions from the Equalist Leader.  He’d known just what to say and how to say it…  He’d made Amon into his puppet with just a few words…

Zhen bristled in umbrage at the memory of the interaction.  His eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched, and his nostrils flared as he fumed.

What right did a filthy blood bender have to know the great, just, and formidable Amon so well?

What had occurred between the two men in the past that led Amon to treat Tarrlok with so much care and… affection?

What led the arrogant councilman to harbor such cold and completely underserved resentment for the man under the mask?

Zhen picked up a few more files, but his movements slowed as he silently considered the man who was seated across from him.

How could two men who were so different, whose lives were so divergent, share such an intimate knowledge of each other?

And then the most abhorrent question popped into Zhen’s head…

Could Amon and Tarrlok have been lovers?

The very thought of the possibility made Zhen’s flesh crawl and his head spin, but he couldn’t stop himself from wondering if… once… long ago… Amon had loved this vile, proud, and ruthless bender…

The lieutenant couldn’t believe he was pondering such blasphemous, traitorous things!  It was unthinkable!  Amon and Tarrlok!?  Lovers? It was ridiculous!

And yet it seemed to explain so much!

But an even worse thought followed on the tail of the first…

What if Amon still loved Tarrlok?

For a brief moment, Zhen thought that the room was spinning around him.  He clutched at the table for support as he contemplated the terrible, horrible possibility. 

But as Zhen thought back, he couldn’t help but feel like everything added up…

The familiar way that Amon and Tarrlok spoke to each other…  The way that the Equalist Leader had defaulted to the councilman’s opinions and expertise…  The fact that the masked man trusted the vile politician and took him at his word—as if Tarrlok weren’t a lying, scheming, evil bully of a bender!

But the councilman’s behavior had to be considered as well, and Tarrlok had been completely compliant… even helpful throughout this fiasco.   Whatever Amon asked, the councilman did without question or struggle. Yes, he was surly about it, but he didn’t complain or resist at all.  There hadn’t been a single escape attempt or rebellion since he’d left his cell…

… Except when Sato had called the politician a corrupt and evil man… But even then, Tarrlok had made no move to physically attack his captors…  Instead he’d simply said horrible things about them…

Right up until he pushed Amon too far…

But none of it made any sense to the lieutenant.  The councilman had said nothing that, on the surface, seemed particularly inflammatory, but the way Amon had reacted to the politician’s words… It was like Tarrlok had spoken in some sort of code.

With just a few words the ex-blood bender transformed Amon into a stranger, a terrifying figure that Zhen did not recognize and would never have recognized as his esteemed commander.

But Tarrlok had known the man that Amon had become.  There was something in the way he cowered and in the way he smiled as soon as Amon’s expression turned to horror—like he’d just seen an old friend after a long absence… He’d known that the Equalist Leader had that horrible persona in him.  He’d known how to draw it out…

He knew Amon so well…

… and Amon knew Tarrlok.

They had to have been lovers.

Nothing else explained the intimacy that existed between the two men.

The thought made Zhen’s blood boil.  A muscle in his face, just beneath his right eye, twitched as his mind began wonder how close the two men had been.  Just how far had this relationship progressed?

Had they embraced?   Shared a few passionate kisses…?

Oh, it had to have gone much further than that.  This was Amon after all!

The lieutenant’s face flushed and bile rose in his throat.

They had to have been intimate.  They’d probably shared a bed… probably regularly…  They’d probably lived under the same roof for months!

Tarrlok probably knew every intimate detail about Amon’s personal life and preferences…

Zhen’s grip on the files in his hand tightened as his mind conjured images of the intimacies the two men had very likely shared.  Tender moments, affectionate touches, soft smiles, laughter… all the things that the lieutenant had longed to share with his commander for years.

He’d always felt that to some degree Amon had shared that desire for a deeper relationship between them. The thought of the Equalist Leader sharing those quiet, private moments with another… with Councilman Tarrlok!...

It hurt.

It hurt so badly.

Amon had probably fallen prey to Tarrlok’s striking, Northern looks and wicked charms.  He’d probably doted on the blood bender and adored the other man… But Zhen couldn’t imagine Tarrlok reciprocating Amon’s feelings. How could a man as vain and hateful as the ambitious blood bender possibly love the scarred visage of the Equalist Leader?

Or could it be that Tarrlok was the reason that Amon hid his face behind a mask and resisted every overture of a real and lasting connection?

Zhen stared down at the files in his hand and forced himself to stop squeezing them so hard.  He took a few deep breaths and tried to reign in his imagination.

The lieutenant began to carefully adjust the files and papers to make sure they were all facing the same direction as he reassured himself that there was no way that Amon could ever wrong a blood bender!  Perhaps he’d briefly loved Tarrlok, perhaps he still felt a lingering connection to the evil man, but Amon couldn’t possibly have wronged the politician.

No, Tarrlok was a manipulative abuser.  Whatever had happened between the two men… the councilman had to be the one who was in the wrong.  Or if Amon had wronged the councilman, it was probably something pathetic and mundane. The politician was notoriously petty after all…

And really, it was completely unthinkable that someone as noble and good could love a man as terrible as the ex-blood bender.

Perhaps Tarrlok had once saved Amon’s life and asked Amon to fulfill his obligations with a deep and personal favor?  Perhaps, due to extenuating circumstances, Amon had failed to live up to his side of the bargain?  A man with Amon’s sense of honor would feel deeply responsible if such a debt existed and went unpaid.

Maybe they’d been friends once and Amon had accidently caused harm to someone in Tarrlok’s family?

Really, his exhaustion was getting ahead of him.  All those little moments during the meeting were probably nothing.  Just his over-active imagination!  It was much more likely that it was an unfulfilled debt or a matter of honor.

Amon was just trying to restore his honor, protect his followers.

But now that he thought about it…

Zhen could recall times when the Equalists had pushed Amon to make an example of Tarrlok.  The Equalist Leader had resisted his subordinates’ pleading. He’d insisted that there were other, better targets.  When the Equalists had demanded that the northern councilman be forcibly removed from power and laid low, the masked commander had turned their attention to other proud and ruthless benders.  There were countless other instances when the Equalists had spoken out against the politician and his vicious tactics, and yet Amon had dismissed every attempt to prioritize the removal of the vile councilor and his bending.  Instead, the Equalist Leader had targeted other men and women in Tarrok’s place…

Zhen froze.  His eyes widened sharply.  He stared at the files in his hand in shock.

… he’d been protecting him.

By the spirits, Amon had been protecting that vile and ruthless man all this time!

What had happened between them to cause Amon to pursue such outrageous and blind efforts to protect that vile monster?

Zhen’s eyes slid closed as he thought back to the exchange he’d witnessed earlier.  Tarrlok had gone after each of them in turn, exposing how much he knew and twisting the truth to suite his ends.  What he’d said about Sato had been shocking, horrible, and clearly malicious slander.

The councilman had turned on Zhen once he was done with Sato.  The lieutenant had been surprised when Tarrlok had chewed him out for not having ambition.  Of all the wicked things that the Equalist had expected to have thrown in his face, his loyalty to the revolution was not one of them.

In the end, Zhen had chalked Tarrlok’s view of his choices up to a natural difference between the them. After all, the councilman was evil and selfish.  How could he possibly understand the nobility and good inherent in the Revolution?  Did he really expect the lieutenant to be ashamed of his choice in supporting the greater good?

But then Tarrlok had turned on Amon and his demeanor had changed drastically.

The councilman had been cruel when he’d addressed the industrialist and the lieutenant, but his expression had been akin to that of a wounded animal striking out at its attackers. Zhen found himself viewing Tarrlok’s words as a last, desperate assault against his enemies.  But when he’d gone after Amon, he’d looked less like a wounded dog and more like a rabid one.

The lieutenant still couldn’t quite make sense of the councilman’s words.  The politician had asked Amon when he would be ‘satisfied’—as though Amon were insatiable.  But the Equalist Leader was hardly a demanding man.  Zhen had been with his commander long enough to know that he was reasonable and asked for very little for himself.  His greatest demands were reserved for society at large, and they were simple enough.

All Amon wanted was a world where everyone could live without fear of violence, oppression, and persecution.  An equal, fair world, where there were no benders to terrorize the non-bending populace.

How could it be wrong to make such demands, when they were in the hearts and minds of so many people? Was it evil of him to seek to spread this great and noble dream to other nations?  Was it so wrong to mandate that all places in the world become safe for all people?

Tarrlok had rattled on, calling Amon the ‘rightful King of Republic City,’ but that was ridiculous. Republic City had never had a King. Unless the Equalist Leader was secretly related to an ancient, noble lineage in the Earth Kingdom there was no reason for the politician to call him a ‘king.’

Zhen paused in the midst of his paper shuffling.

And yet Tarrlok knew so much about them all…

Was it possible that Amon was… a prince?

He considered it for a moment, and then rejected the idea as he continued to shuffle the files into a new order.

Seeing Amon’s reaction to Tarrlok’s terror had given Zhen pause, and he couldn’t help but hesitate as he recalled the expression on his commander’s face.  For a moment the normally powerful, unflappable, and formidable man had been shaken.  He’d looked vulnerable and afraid, like a child who’d just been caught doing something wrong…

A chill ran down the lieutenant’s spine.  He cast another cautious glance across the table at the man who remained in his seat, still cast in shadows.  Whatever Tarrlok knew, whatever secret he kept… Amon feared its revelation.

For the life of him, Zhen could not understand why.  What could his commander possibly need to hide from his followers?  What secret could be so dark and dire?

His eyes narrowed sharply as a new question occurred to him.

Why spare the secret keeper?

He studied the councilman pensively.  His brow furrowed and pinched his lips into a thin line.

Why would Tarrlok willingly agree to keep Amon’s secret?  After all that, the politician said that he would not share the information. But why?  The councilman seemed to have so much power over the masked commander. Why would the politician bury this truth when they both seemed to know that it could destroy the Equalist Leader by the hands of his followers?

Did he hope to use this great and terrible secret as leverage?

If so, he was a fool. No matter what sentiment lingered between them, Zhen was certain that Amon would not protect Tarrlok forever. After all, no man willingly protected his blackmailer.  He couldn’t imagine anyone’s passions running so deep as to cause a lasting affection between two enemies…  Amon’s marriage to the Avatar was going to be quite an interesting farce for that very reason…

The Avatar.

Zhen’s eyes widened and he sucked in a breath..

The day that she’d been publically humiliated she’d made a grand stand of announcing that she knew the truth about Amon.  The lieutenant had dismissed her words outright, but now he wasn’t so sure.

He blinked rapidly as he struggled to remember exactly what she’d said, but the words weren’t coming. He frowned.  She’d mentioned a secret, though…

A secret…

The air left him and a terrible chill settled into his bones.

The Avatar knew.

Tarrlok and the Avatar had been sharing a cellblock.  Had he…?

He’d told her Amon’s secret.

He’d shared the Equalist Leader’s dark past.

The councilman had given the Avatar the same advantage that he enjoyed.  That was two ex-benders with the power to use their knowledge against the Equalist! And he was taking both of them with him on this mad journey to escape from the forces of the Water Tribe!  Was he insane?!

Or did he expect Tarrlok to… comply and help him control the Avatar?

But that made no sense! How could Amon believe that Tarrlok would change sides so easily?  Why would the councilman comply with the Equalist Agenda?  They’d never given him reason to favor them and the politician had clearly hated Equalists!  Why, he’d been ready to lock away even the lowliest chi-blocker for life and there were rumors that he was looking to abolish many of Avatar Aang’s laws against capital punishment for non-blood bending prisoners!

But then why had Tarrlok been so compliant today if he hated Equalists so much?

He hadn’t fought or resisted at all.  The councilman had meekly followed Amon throughout the day and obeyed every request without the slightest opposition.  There’d been no need to restrain him or subdue him, he’d acted like a well-trained dog…

Tarrlok had said he knew Amon by a single touch.

The lieutenant clenched his teeth and swallowed back the bile that rose in his throat as he recalled the councilman’s comment about how well he knew the Equalist Leader.  His mouth twisted into a frown of intense bitterness and disgust—as though he’d just swallowed something truly vile.

They had to have been intimate in the past!  How else could the councilman have recognized the Equalist Leader by a single touch! To think that the noble and honorable Amon had been seduced by that vile, despicable monster… it was too horrible!

Poor Amon!  Scarred by a fire bender, trifled with by a blood bender—probably tortured by the cruel man!  No wonder the Equalist Leader was filled with so much rage!  To have been abused and betrayed so viciously!  It was unimaginable!

If only Zhen had known sooner, he might have been less aggressive in his overtures.  Was it any wonder that his commander rejected his advances after having suffered at the hands of the evil councilman?  There could be no blame laid upon the Amon.  He was a victim of Tarrlok’s evil passions!

But if they were intimate… if they had been that close…

Then of course Tarrlok would know Amon’s darkest secrets… … and of course, Amon would know Tarrlok’s darkest secrets!

It all made sense now!

The councilman’s docile behavior, his impotent threats of revealing Amon’s secrets!  Tarrlok still had a dark secret he hoped to bury, but the Equalist Leader knew his secret!  He would behave as long as the scarred man kept his peace!

The lieutenant snuck another glance at the ex-bender across the table as he turned the stack of files and papers in his hand once more.  He’d been a blood bender until Amon had purified him.  It was hard to imagine that Tarrlok had secrets darker than his horrible abilities, but there had to be something that the Equalist Leader held over him.  Something that he could use to force the politician’s compliance.

… but compliance wasn’t guaranteed on the road…

And it was clear to Zhen that Amon still had feelings for Tarrlok.  The lieutenant couldn’t help but worry about what would happen when the councilman realized that there was no one to hide from.  Would he kill his scarred ex-lover and make off with the Avatar himself?

Amon clearly didn’t think Tarrlok would hurt him, but men had been blinded by love before.

“You’ve been shuffling those files for the past twenty minutes.”

Zhen jumped at the sound of the councilman’s smooth tenor.  He looked up to see a pair of icy blue eyes staring at him curiously through the flickering darkness.  The mustached lieutenant glanced down at the large stack of files in his hands.  “I suppose I am finished here.” He said coolly. He set the files down on the table and rested a protective hand on them.

A heavy silence settled between them.  The lieutenant felt tense as he stared at the handsome water tribe politician seated across from him.  After all, Tarrlok was very likely Amon’s ex-lover.  If things had been different, Zhen might have been Amon’s new lover…

He felt like a character in one of the trashy novellas he wrote in his spare time.  Zhen was the good wife.  Tarrlok was the specter of ‘the other woman’—an intimidating and seductive figure who was everything the good woman could never be; the living embodiment of the hero’s darker lusts.

If things were different, if Zhen were Amon’s lover, then this would play out as a triumphant moment.  Tarrlok would goad and taunt him, but the lieutenant would remind the proverbial ‘other woman’ of his triumph.  But the unfortunate reality was that they’d both lost.

There was no happy ending…

Though perhaps Tarrlok would seduce the emotionally vulnerable Amon on the road and they would become lovers again… making the Avatar twice as vulnerable and alone.

Was that what Amon hoped for?

For a moment Zhen thought his heart would break.

Did Amon really hope that Tarrlok would come back to him?  After all this time?  Was he still in love with him?  Had all those subtle comments and kind words—those brief moments of passing flirtation when Zhen had felt truly certain that Amon saw him as more than a mere loyal follower—had that been nothing but a passing fancy to the Equalist Leader?

The councilman broke the silence again, “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry, but…?” Those cold blue eyes continued to peer at him with great curiosity.

Even in the flickering darkness, Zhen could see that Tarrlok watched him with one brow raised.  But the lieutenant had no kind feelings for the blood bender.  “Spit it out!” he snapped.

“What exactly is your relationship with Amon?” The politician asked.  His voice was soft and he sounded concerned.

Zhen tensed, his jaw muscles clenched and he glared viciously at Tarrlok.

That wasn’t a question! That was an admission!  There was no other reason he’d ask that question, unless they’d been lovers!  He was assessing the presumed ‘new blood!’  He was sizing up his rival!

Zhen’s mouth snarled and he bared his teeth in anger.  “None of your business.”

Tarrlok’s face pulled into something between a grimace of disgust and a smug sneer. “That close, huh? Didn’t think he’d go for that, considering his interests back then.” The politician snorted in a way that wasn’t entirely dismissive and looked away.  “I guess that shows what I know.”

Zhen bridled at the insult. Did Tarrlok think that Amon’s unspoken preference for a non-bender, such as himself, was in bad taste?  But then what else could he expect of a blood bending tyrant!?  The councilman grimaced in disgust at the very thought of love between two non-bending men!  It was astounding that the haughty politician had ever deigned to lower himself to be with the scarred man!

The lieutenant was so busy being outraged that it took him a moment to notice that Tarrlok was making choking sounds.  But as soon as he heard those soft noises, he realized that what he’d taken for a grimace of disgust was the closest thing to a smile that the northern politician could manage.  The councilman let out a dry, unpleasant chuckle—it might have been a soft, broken cough—as he leaned forward.  His noble, handsome features slid into the dim, rapidly blinking light, even as his pale blue eyes fell into shadow.  Nevertheless, Zhen could feel the councilman watching him.

“That’s rather unsafe,” Tarrlok said.  “Don’t you know that men like him just use people up and toss them aside like they’re nothing?”

Zhen tensed, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to leave the room or strike out at the man across from him. In the end he kept his temper in check by reminding himself that Amon trusted him to watch Tarrlok.

“What would you know about it?” The lieutenant did his best to sound unaffected, but he couldn’t quite keep the strain out of his voice.

Tarrlok was quiet for a moment.  The shadows around him seemed to deepen and some tension or energy drained from his flesh, because it looked like he was sinking into himself.  Then he said, “I know him.”

Zhen turned away sharply, his eyes searched the darkness behind him, but it offered no easy distraction. He walked to one of the Future Industries lanterns and toyed with the dials, adjusting it so that the light stopped flickering.  As he worked, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly, collecting himself.   Then he spoke, “You keep saying that, but really, you have no evidence.”  He swallowed and cast a glance over his shoulder at the politician across the table, “There is no reason for me be to believe you know anything about Amon at all…”

“I suppose I can’t convince you.  You clearly don’t trust me, but the truth is that I know him.” Tarrlok gave him a smirk, “And I know him far better than you. I mean, really, what has he shared with you?  His ideals? His tales of a terrible past?  His bed…?”

Zhen flinched and turned sharply away.

“Oh.  Good enough to keep around, but not good enough for that.” Tarrlok chuckled.  “You’re lucky.  He must actually respect you enough not to use you.” 

“What is that supposed to mean!?” Zhen snapped.

“You really don’t know him at all, do you?  For all his lofty ideals he’s quite a despicable man,” Tarrlok said coldly. The lights flickered out of time causing the shadows to move strangely across his face, making him appear more like a grim specter than a human.  “The kind of man who chews people up and spits them out when he’s finished with them.”

Zhen bridled, enraged by the councilman’s cruel words about his esteemed leader.  “That’s a lie!”

One of the lanterns went out, shrouding the upper half of Tarrlok’s face in shadow.  But Zhen could clearly see the politician’s smirk and the glint of his blue eyes as he said, “And how would you know?  You know Amon, but you don’t know the man behind the mask, do you?  He likes that, doesn’t he?  When people are just far enough away that he doesn’t seem entirely human?  When people admire him?”

Zhen’s head swam with rage. He swore that the room was tilting onto its side.  He gasped, struggling to draw air into his lungs, which seemed to have seized up. “You…” he panted, “You disgusting, despicable, vile, evil…!”

The politician watched him struggle with a quiet smile.  “Does it really bother you that much?  The thought that you’re wrong about him?”  The lights flickered again, lanterns coming back on as others switched off, so that Tarrlok’s eyes became visible as he looked down his nose at the lieutenant, “Or are you so consumed by jealousy and pent-up lust that you can’t see how he’s using you?”

Zhen had been born in Republic City.  His parents had kept a flat near the docks in the middle of Red Monsoon territory. Whenever the triad felt pressed or troubled, they buckled down on the non-benders in the area.  Every few months, members of the triad would cycle through and extort payment from the families living in their region of the city.

Zhen had been a rebellious boy and something of an upstart as a young man.  As a result, he became quite familiar with their various techniques for forcing compliance from those who lived under the authority of the local triad.  Now, the Red Monsoons kept several blood benders in their number, but none of them were anything like Tarrlok.  They could only bend during the full moon.  So, the gang had to come up with methods of torturing non-compliant non-benders when there was no full moon.

Zhen had tested them repeatedly and learned exactly how creative the thugs could be.  There was a particular form of torture that the lieutenant had become quite familiar with in his late teens that the triad reserved for ‘special thorns in their side.’  It involved letting droplets of water fall upon a single point in the middle of the victim’s forehead.  Over the course of long hours, even days, those droplets would continue to fall at a steady pace.

Claustrophobia set in after an hour from the restraints alone.  After three hours the pressure would begin to build.  The pain came gradually after that.  A slow, gradual creep that built into skull-splitting agony. Zhen had been left under the drip for eight hours once.  He’d been cold and wet and half-mad from the agony.  There were nights that he woke to the sound of the drip of water and he’d be unable to return to sleep.  He knew men who’d sat under the drip far longer than him, who’d gone mad from it.

Tarrlok’s presence at Amon’s side was like that torture.  Every overly curt exchange, every subtle insult—insults Amon permitted—every show of disrespect, every quiet glance exchanged between the two men, every breath they drew in the same room, every second that Amon treated the councilman like he belonged at his side was like the slow drip of water onto a single point on Zhen’s forehead.  The pain had built up so slowly that he’d barely noticed it, but now he could not deny the nearly blinding pressure in his skull.

The blood bender’s comments about knowing Amon, the slanderous comments, the digs about Zhen’s feelings… they were the metaphorical ‘final drop’ that sent him over the edge.

Zhen spun and slammed his hand down on the table, “How do you know him?!” he howled.  “How can you know him?!  What would a man like Amon want with a vile, despicable, cruel, evil blood bender like you?!” He leaned over the table, his hands clawing at the surface between them.  He watched Tarrlok shoot back in his seat, hands grabbing at his chair to keep himself upright as he recoiled from the lieutenant.  Zhen felt his bones had burrowed through the fleshy pads of his fingers and into the wood.  “You asked me what I am to him, well, I can tell you that I’m clearly nothing compared to you!  So, now it’s my turn to ask, what are you to him!?  Why would he trust a monster like you?!”  He bit of the words with the ferocity of a tiger bear and when he was done speaking his teeth were clenched so tightly that he didn’t think he’d be able to pry them open ever again.  His lips were pulled back in a furious snarl, his every breath shuddered with explosive rage, and he felt as though his brow was furrowed so deeply that his eyebrows had merged into one long, steep ‘v’ on his forehead.

Across the table, Tarrlok cowered in the dim shadows.  His eyes were wide with fear and every part of his body was as tense as a deer rabbit that’d found itself in the sights of a jackal cat.  The lieutenant could just see the councilman’s white-knuckled grip on the seat of his chair.

Zhen calmed and straightened, retreating to his side of the table.  He was troubled by the look of abject terror on the other man’s face.   Tarrlok was a blood bender.  There was no reason for him to be afraid of a non-bender.  After all, what had a non-bender ever done to him?  What could a non-bender do to him?

As soon as the lieutenant calmed and withdrew, Tarrlok began to uncoil.  He sat up straight and forward in his chair and carefully arranged himself so he looked more presentable.  It was, Zhen realized, a bid to make himself feel a little more like he was in control of the situation.

“I…” the blood bender began, but he paused, his eyes darted nervously, and he fidgeted in his chair. It seemed he was having difficulty collecting his thoughts or even guessing at where to begin.  Then he looked up at Zhen, incredulous, “Trust me? You think this is trust?” he asked.

Zhen growled and brought his fist down on the table.  “Why else would he keep you with him throughout this mess?!”

Tarrlok looked away sharply, he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.  “I believe…” he swallowed and drew into himself, “it’s because he promised…” his eyes widened again and he stopped speaking abruptly, as though he’d just realized what he’d been about to say.  He shook his head sharply.  “No. It’s been too long for that to hold any meaning.  I’m thirty-seven.  I’m not a child anymore.  He couldn’t possibly be thinking…” he muttered.

Zhen realized that the councilman was speaking more to himself than to his captor.  Nevertheless, the councilman’s comments were revealing. Amon had made a promise?

To whom?

To Tarrlok?

What had he promised?

Zhen leaned forward again, his body clenched with restrained rage.  “Promised what?!  What secrets are you keeping for him!?  Why does he trust you!?”

“This isn’t trust!” Tarrlok snarled as he glared at the lieutenant and leaned forward in his seat.  The shadows shifted around him, deepening the lines on his face and lending his already haggard appearance an aged, malevolent quality.

“What is it, then?!” Zhen was seconds from throwing the table at the blood bender and trying to crush him beneath the heavy wooden piece of furniture.  “Why else would he let you walk free?!”

Anger left the councilman again.  His eyes dropped to the floor, narrowing pensively and giving the man the appearance that he was struggling – struggling! Hah! – to find the reason behind Amon’s actions—as if he didn’t know!

“I’m…”  Tarrlok hesitated, “He made a promise to someone we both cared about…” he spoke slowly as if giving every word great consideration, “It was a long time ago and I guess he’s trying to keep it… in spite of everything…”

Zhen felt some of the tension drain out of him.  What Tarrlok said made sense.  It was just like Amon to try to keep some old promise he’d made long ago, even if everyone else involved had long forgotten about it.  Nevertheless, it was very strange that Amon might keep a promise regarding Tarrlok.

The lieutenant couldn’t stop himself from asking, “What, did he promise to protect you or something?” He’d never heard of something so ridiculous.

A non-bender protecting a bender?

Really?

Tarrlok, however, looked away.  The wild curtain of dark hair obscured his expression, but the mustached lieutenant could just make out a grimace of humiliation and shame on the other man’s face.

Once Zhen realized what the councilman’s expression gave away, he took an involuntary step back.

Amon had promised to protect Tarrlok.  But who had coerced such a promise from the Equalist Leader?  Why had Amon agreed to such a ridiculous thing?  How had any of this come to pass?

Most importantly:  Did this mean they hadn’t been lovers?

Aloud, he asked: “Who would ever ask anyone to look after you?  And why would Amon ever agree to such a thing?”

Zhen could just barely see Tarrlok’s face contorting into a mask of pain as the councilman said: “It doesn’t matter, she’s dead by now.”

A woman.

The tension drained from Zhen’s body.

Oh, thank the spirits.  This was about a woman.

What a relief!

It all made so much sense! In the early years of the Revolution Amon had intermittently taken lovers; young men and women who’d recently joined the equalists and shown their devotion to the cause.  He’d never remained with them for very long—never more than a week—and he never developed any attachment to them.  Zhen had always found his commander’s attitudes toward intimacy strangely out of character, since the Equalist Leader seemed like a man of deep feeling and attachment.

If Amon had lost someone he cared for—such as, say, a woman he might have otherwise married—then he might have trouble becoming intimate again.  Particularly if she’d met a terrible end and Amon feared suffering such a loss again.  And of course he’d want to honor any wish or promise they’d made together, even if it meant protecting a blood bender!

Zhen knew that Amon was a sentimental man, the sort who cared about principle and righteousness. It was something that the lieutenant admired about his commander, but it was the Equalist Leader’s greatest weakness. Amon was, after all, more honorable than most men.  For as long as Zhen had known the masked man, he’d never turned his back on a comrade and he’d always been fair and just to friend and enemy alike—he even gave benders a chance to fight back before he removed their bending!  That was more than anyone else would have ever done!

Of course Amon would keep a foolish, idiotic, promise to the woman he’d once loved!  That was just the sort of man he was!

Zhen was halfway thought imagining the woman and how she’d died, when Tarrlok’s voice cut through his imaginings— “You’ve completely misunderstood everything, haven’t you?”

The lieutenant glanced up to see the blood bender studying him with cool blue eyes.  The councilman had shifted slightly in his seat so that nearly half his face was visible in the dim light of the room.  He seemed to have regained some of his confidence, he was sitting up straight and leaning forward in his chair.

A wicked smirk spread across the blood bender’s face and he leaned forward to rest his arm on the table. There was a cruel spark of amusement in his eyes.

Zhen’s blood ran cold.

Tarrlok arched a brow and let his head fall to one side as he studied Amon’s lieutenant.  Then he said, “Let me explain a few things before your head runs wild with torrid tales of romance.”  He grinned like a fox cat that had just discovered an unguarded nest of turtle duck eggs.  “Now, I can’t tell you everything.  That would land us both in hot water with your… beloved Amon.” The smile vanished from his face.  His mouth pulled into a sharp grimace as he hunched forward over the table and hissed, “Let me assure you that there is nothing romantic about my relationship with your master.”

Zhen’s head jerked back at Tarrlok’s tone.  He’d said the words, ‘your master’ like it was a grievous insult.  Like the councilman had just called him ‘dog.’

“I suppose I haven’t been clear.  I told you, I know Amon, but it’d be more correct to say that I knew the person he was a long time ago.” The councilman snickered, “Why does he trust me?” he asked, mocking Zhen’s demanding question.  “This isn’t trust.  This is how he really is.  He’s a man who keeps his friends close and his enemies closer.  He guards those who threaten his power and position fiercely. After all, it’s easier to keep your enemies in line when they’re in easy striking range.”  Tarrlok laughed again.   “Oh no, he doesn’t trust me at all; but he trusts you.  He trusts you enough to leave you alone with me.”

Zhen felt his cheeks color, even as his heart clenched with worry.  What Tarrlok said made sense.  But what he said… it wasn’t…

That wasn’t who Amon was…

He’d never keep someone close just to… to make sure they could be quickly disciplined!

That wasn’t who Amon was!

Tarrlok’s mouth twisted into a deep and bitter frown.  “Ah, nothing’s really changed has it?  What? Twenty?  Twenty-five years?” The councilman shrugged, “He’s never trusted me with anything.”  He shook his head, “I guess he still sees the same pathetic, worthless failure.” Tarrlok’s gaze tilted toward the floor, letting the dark curtain of his disheveled hair obscure his features. “Who can blame him?”

Failure?

What was Tarrlok talking about?

He was Councilman Tarrlok. He was the man who’d nearly ruled over all of Republic City.  He was the man that the Equalists had consistently named the greatest threat to their Revolution…

And he believed that Amon thought he was a failure?

Zhen’s eyes narrowed.  This had something to do with the woman, didn’t it?

But Tarrlok had said that it wasn’t a torrid romance… but what else could it be?  What other relationship could possibly cause such strife and turmoil?

And anyway, it wasn’t like Zhen could trust a single word out of Tarrlok’s mouth…

But, then… why not put it to the test?  “You know, you’re right.  I have a hard time believing anyone could ever trust you, let alone love you.”

Tarrlok looked up at him in shock and then his face split into a wide, manic grin.  He burst out laughing.  “Of course!  You’re right!” he chortled, “You’ve got me pegged, Lu Zhen!”  Tears began to leak out of the corners of the councilman’s eyes as he continued to chuckle manically, “I’m the loser!  It’s like they say, second child, second best! Even my own parents thought I was a waste of time!”

Zhen looked away, embarrassed by the gross display of emotion.  The man was weeping in front of him.  Ranting about family and his own status as…

Second child…?

Zhen’s eyes were drawn back to Tarrlok as his mind spun with this new information.

Could…?

“Spirits, after everything was said and done, after all that…” the councilman’s face contorted into an expression of agony, “even my own father couldn’t bring himself to look at me…  And I was all he had left!”

Had Amon been in love with Tarrlok’s older sister…?  But of course!  The sort of family that Tarrlok probably came from… what with him being a councilman and all… They wouldn’t have approved of a scarred farm boy like Amon…  Their love would have been forbidden.

Tarrlok would have followed his father’s lead and looked down on Amon.  He would have denied any romance between his noble sister and the good man…  Had he played a role in the loss of Amon’s beloved?

Zhen stared at Tarrlok quietly, brow furrowed in concentration, as he tried to figure him out.

“What did you think of Amon when you knew him?” Zhen asked.

“I loved him and I hated him,” Tarrlok replied tiredly.

Zhen’s eyes widened in horror, “You loved him!?” But Tarrlok had said-! Had he been lying?!  But the woman-!?

“We used to be very close,” Tarrlok continued, “There was a time when we were inseparable.  I looked up to him.”

Zhen’s eyes narrowed in anger.  “Inseparable? You looked up to him?!” He couldn’t believe it!  “Why would Amon have anything to do with a bender? How could he have tolerated a vile monster like you!?  Didn’t you say that you were raised in the North Pole?  What the hell was he doing in the North Pole twenty-five years ago?! He was born and raised in the United Republic!  His family was killed by Fire Benders!”

The councilman nearly leapt out of his seat as he slammed his hand onto the table, “That’s a lie!”

Zhen slid back, his hands rose defensively.  He watched the bender across from him warily.

Tarrlok met Zhen’s wary look with his cold, dead eyes.  “Yes. Amon lied to you.  He lies to everyone.  He lied to me.  He lied to his followers.  He lied to you.”

Zhen’s face morphed into a mask of fury as he slammed his fists down on the table.  “That’s a lie!”  he shouted.  “You don’t know anything!  Why would Amon want to have anything to do with a Blood Bender like you?!”

Tarrlok looked away, shamefaced.  “You can’t choose…” Tarrlok choked on his words.  “Spirits, I can’t even say it!  I hate thinking it!” He buried his face in his hands.  “This is a nightmare!  I wish he’d stayed dead!”

Zhen’s brow furrowed in confusion.  “Amon never died!”

Tarrlok looked at Zhen, his face a mask of pain and anger.  “We thought he’d died!” he shouted.  “It tore us apart!  He had the nerve to leave us behind and do… all this!  He left us to suffer!”

The lieutenant wasn’t sure what to make of Tarrlok’s words, so he stuck with what he knew, “Well he’s not dead!” he retorted.  It was all he could think to say.

The councilman let out a harsh bark of laughter, “Clearly!”

“I don’t know what history you think you have with Amon, but it’s meaningless now!” Zhen snarled. “You’re a filthy blood bender and he’s the leader of the Equalist Revolution!  You’re nothing to him!”

Tarrlok snorted and looked away.  “I wish that were the case.”  He grimaced in pain. “I wish he’d just killed me and been done with it.”

“Why?” Zhen demanded. “Are you ashamed of something you did? Did you betray him?  Blood bend him?”  The lieutenant’s blood was hot.  He was posed to strike at the barest hint of admission.  “Is facing his mercy the worst thing you can imagine for your crimes?”

Tarrlok looked at him, his eyes wide and empty, devoid of any emotion that Zhen could name.  The councilman looked haunted, like he’d seen or experienced something so horrible that nothing else could possibly compare…

It astounded the lieutenant how quickly that strange, disturbed expression morphed into a mask of rage.

“I blood bent him?  I betrayed him?!” Tarrlok squared off against Zhen. “You ignorant, lovesick, fool! You think I’m a monster, but you refuse to see that he is a thousand times worse than I am!”  The councilman’s hair fell around his face as he leaned forward heavily against the table.

Zhen recoiled, but he didn’t back down.  “You!?  Better than Amon!?  I’d like to see that!”

But Tarrlok didn’t seem to be listening, his head had dropped and he was shaking.  “He betrayed us, he left us behind…  After everything, he didn’t care at all!  We were nothing to him!  We were never anything to him!”

Zhen stepped back, his brow furrowed in concern, “What…?  Are you…?”

Tarrlok reached up and clutched his head, his palm pressing into the middle of his forehead.  “He abandoned us with our tormentor!”

The lieutenant felt a chill run down his spine as he looked at Tarrlok.  He recalled other ex-benders, prisoners, had become… violently unstable shortly after they’d lost their bending.  But he shook off his concerns.  He could take this ex-blood bender in a fight.

“Spit it out!  What are you talking about?!” he snapped.

“I’m talking about the real reason he hates bending!” Tarrlok snarled.

“A fire bender killed his family and burned off his face!” Zhen shouted.

“I don’t know how he became a… a…”  the councilman grimaced and faltered as he searched for words, “a scarred-up freak!”

Zhen recoiled in umbrage. He opened his mouth to berate the man in front of him, but Tarrlok kept talking.

“…but let me assure you,” Tarrlok gave the lieutenant a feral look, “a fire bender didn’t kill his family!”

“What are you talking about?!” Zhen snarled in fury.  “He has no reason to lie!”

But Tarrlok wasn’t cowed.  He leaned in until they were nose to nose as he growled: “Oh, he has every reason to lie!  He’s so ashamed of himself I’m sure!—Of his real history!”

The lieutenant jerked backward, uncomfortable with the proximity. “Right!  Like you know anything!”

“I know more than you, you pathetic, infatuated moron!” the councilman sneered.

The lieutenant glared at Tarrlok with barely restrained rage.  “How dare you-!?”

“How dare I?!” Tarrlok mocked, cutting him off. “He trusts you to watch me, but why don’t you find out what’ll happen if you cause me any harm!?”  He challenged with a cruel grin.

“You think he’ll defend you?!” Zhen sneered. His hands itched for his electrified kali sticks.

“I know he will!!” Tarrlok shouted, his voice cracking and breaking.  “…I know he will…”

It was Zhen’s turn to scoff.  “Why would he care about a filthy blood bender or his family!?”

“Why would he care about…” Tarrlok chuckled… “A filthy blood bender or his family?!”  The councilman doubled over and his body heaved as he laughed long and loud.

The lieutenant’s eyes narrowed sharply.  “What do you know?”

It took a moment for the politician to catch his breath and calm down.  But once he’d stifled his snickering enough he said, “We grew up together.”

Zhen rolled his eyes and shook his head in disbelief.

The councilman, calm and almost melancholy once more, turned away as he wrapped his arms around himself. “He watched me and looked after me…” he murmured as he slowly dropped back into his chair, “We used to play together in the snow…”

“That’s a load of ox horse shit!” Zhen knew that if there was any kind of bender that could make someone hate bending, it was blood bending.  For years the Red Monsoons had relied on blood bending to rule the streets. He’d watched hundreds die at the hands of vile blood benders.  He’d been at their mercy… “If there’s one kind of bender that is more reviled than any other, it’s blood benders!” the lieutenant snarled.

The politician looked up at Zhen.  His empty eyes, once again growing hard and cold.  But the lieutenant didn’t care, he wasn’t about to let a blood bender lead him by the nose.

He tapped his chest angrily as he snarled, “I remember what the Red Monsoons did to people on the streets! I was one of their favorite targets! A man like Amon would never have anything to do with-!”

The councilman gave Zhen a sympathetic smile. “It feels awful, doesn’t it?”

“What?” The lieutenant snapped.

“Being blood bent.”

Zhen’s eyes widened, he reared back in fury.  “Don’t mock me!”

“I’m not.” Tarrlok grimaced and looked down at the floor.  “I was thirteen years old when my father took my brother and I out into the snow and tried to make us blood bend each other.”

Zhen felt all the blood leave his face.

“…what?”

“He didn’t even hesitate.” Tarrlok didn’t seem to hear him.  His eyes were vacant—like he’d been pulled back in time to the moment he’d been… tortured by his brother… “He just… did what he was told. Not a second of hesitation.”

Zhen felt the air leave his lungs.  He could not move.  He could not breath.  He couldn’t hear or think.

Tarrlok’s head dropped back, his arms dropped to his side and his back arched, his body bent into a backbend as if in supplication.  The councilman’s eyes widened as if in fear and pain.  His mouth fell open and Zhen swore he could see muscles twitching just beneath the politician’s skin as every part of him tensed—resisting the posture, even as he bent himself into it.

Every hair on the lieutenant’s body was on end as he stared at the politician.  The man was reliving torture visited upon him by his own brother…

The posture was like the one that Amon forced benders into before he took their bending…

Zhen stepped back.  His hand covered his mouth.  He turned away.

That thought… that Amon might have… based his technique on the torture visited upon a… a childhood friend… How many times had he seen the technique performed?  How many times had he seen it practiced…

Of all things, why would he choose that?!

Zhen shook his head and forced himself to look at Tarrlok.  “… your father… he was…?”

Tarrlok choked and gasped. He seemed to be struggling to move his limbs freely and easily.  But slowly he began to pull and twist himself out of the imagined blood bending grip.  His body bent forward sharply. 

The councilman looked up at the lieutenant through a curtain of heavy, dark hair.  “Bending… blood bending without the full moon takes years of grueling, rigorous training.  It’s a hell I wouldn’t wish on anyone.”

Tarrlok’s father… he’d… forced his children to…?

Zhen felt sick.

“I swore that I’d never…” Tarrlok’s voice cracked as he trailed off.  He reached up and covered his eyes with his hand.

Zhen looked away.  He knew the councilman was… breaking down. He wished he didn’t have to be in the same room as a man who was coming apart at his seams.

But Tarrlok had brought it on himself.

Zhen remembered his own treatment at the hands of this vile man.  The councilman had gripped him and made him lie on the floor, prostrate before him.  It had been painful and humiliating.

He had no reason to feel sorry for this man.

The politician spoke up again.  “She was going to kill me.  I see now that I deserved it, because she was right… Amon and I are the same.” He swallowed sharply and loudly.  “I wish she’d have put me out of my misery.”

The lieutenant found his brow knitting in pity for the pathetic creature that sat before him.  “You hate yourself don’t you?”

“Wouldn’t you?” Tarrlok asked.

Of course he’d hate himself!

If he were a blood bender, he’d hate himself more than anything in the entire world!  He’d hate being a terrible and vile monster who terrorized the helpless and made people miserable!

…But if he were a blood bender, he’d be powerful… Powerful enough to put the world right if he wanted to… And no one would be able to stop him…

NO!  That wasn’t who he was!

He shook his head sharply and looked away.

He’d never considered it before… If he were a blood bender?  What would he do with that power?

It was an uncomfortable question.

He glanced at Tarrlok who sat, wrecked and ruined, in the chair across from him.

The councilman had sworn to never blood bend again.  And if what he’d said was true, he’d kept his promise right up until his confrontation with the Avatar…

Would the lieutenant have resisted using such power for so long?

Zhen wasn’t quite sure he’d have the strength for that…

His disquiet deepened. He needed to fill the room with sound again.  He didn’t want to be alone with these questions, these terrible thoughts…

“Your father made you blood bend your brother?” He asked.

Tarrlok made a soft hiccoughing sound and then said, “I refused.  I was a weakling and a coward.  I refused.”

The lieutenant frowned at the man across from him.  “You refused… and you were the weakling…?” No wonder he was such a horrible person! He’d been raised to believe that choosing not to be cruel and evil was weak!

“My brother was only three years older than me.  I’m thirty-seven.  He’s forty now.” The councilman said. He looked up at Zhen, accusation in his eyes. “Do you really think that benders are just born slinging fire and tossing boulders? That we just magically know how to control our powers?  Do you think I was always like this?  Is it impossible to imagine that there might have been a time before…?  Before our father decided that we were weapons not children…?” The councilman seemed to lose focus again, as if he were being pulled back to that time before he was a blood bender.  “He watched me, looked after me…”

The lieutenant felt sick with anger and… something akin to guilt.  “But you still went along with it!” He shouted.  “You still let him shape you!”

At the same time, he couldn’t help but wonder…

If Amon and Tarrlok had known each other as children…

What would it have been like to watch a friend turn into a monster?  A child you looked after and played with?  What would it have been like to lose that person to a man who was so cruel as to torture his own children…?

A best friend…?

Someone like a brother…?

He couldn’t imagine it.

Once again, he was left with a terrible sense of discomfort.  He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to feel about what he’d learned.  Nothing fit with his own understanding and experiences…

He tried to fill the silence again, “So your father was a master blood bender who tortured you?” 

Tarrlok didn’t even look at him.  “I was seven. He was my father.  He’d been kind and good.  I thought he loved me as his son before it all started.  I only wanted to make him proud of me.”  He spoke in a dispassionate monotone, as if he were numb to the information.

Were all blood benders like this? Frightened children eager to please a parent?

Zhen couldn’t believe that.

Tarrlok twitched, his eyes began to dart.  His fingers jerked and moved unsteadily.  He reached up to push his hair out of his face.  “But I could never compare…” He rocked back and forth, and his fingers began to pull at his hair.  “Not at all…” He murmured, more to himself than to Zhen. “I was the weakling.  The spare.  The worthless, unskilled…!”

The lieutenant frowned at the councilman’s behavior.  He seemed unhinged… or like he was becoming unhinged.  He tried to draw the man back into the conversation, “Your brother was that skilled?” he asked. “You didn’t need the full moon and he was better than you?” He found it hard to believe.

Tarrlok chuckled.  “He didn’t even have to move his hands.  He just needed to be able to see his opponent…”

Zhen didn’t think he could be more horrified.

“What does Amon have to do with any of this?” He demanded.

The councilman glanced at Zhen and smiled. The lieutenant realized that it was meant to be a nasty smile, but it came off as nervous and incredibly uncomfortable. “I was his first foray into protecting another person.  Practice.”

Oh spirits…

Tarrlok turned his eyes away and studied the floor to his right.  “He failed.  Fucked it up badly.”

No…

Amon wouldn’t have dared to pit himself against a group of blood benders who were strong enough to… to… And with a single look?

The councilman chuckled lightly.  “In the end he ran away.”

“…no.”  Zhen said.

“Do you know why?” Tarrlok asked.

Zhen shook his head.  “…shut up…”

Tarrlok grinned, this time he did manage to be nasty. “Because you can’t protect someone who’s able to stand up for themselves.”

Zhen looked up in confusion.  Those were the horrible words he’d been expecting...

“Oh?”  Tarrlok tilted his head to one side.  “Maybe I wasn’t clear.  You and all your little Equalists are only important to Amon as long as you’re vulnerable and helpless.  That’s how he is.” The councilman’s smile widened, “He likes people who are helpless, who are vulnerable, who can’t protect themselves.  He likes to feel like a savior and a hero, but that only works if you’re in peril!”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Zhen snarled.

The politician snickered.  “I’m talking about what he does.  He goes out and finds someone helpless and he ‘protects’ them.  He ‘saves’ them from their tormentor...” Tarrlok chuckled, “Maybe ‘protect’ is too strong a word...

“He puts himself between the victim and the tormentor.  He antagonizes the tormentor so that life becomes completely unbearable for the victim.  And he’ll.. galvanize both sides until the victim finally puts up a fight.  And then, right when you really need him, right when you desperately need his support and protection... he will leave you.”

Zhen’s eyes widened in shock.  “That’s not true!” he shouted.

... but it was happening right now, wasn’t it...?  Amon was leaving them all...

No!  He couldn’t beleive it!  He wouldn’t be led by this evil man!

The councilman shrugged and said, “I lived through hell from the age of seven.  Even though he was in a position to put an end to our suffering, he never once raised his hand.  In the did what he couldn’t do.  I put my foot down and resisted.”  Tarrlok glanced away, his expression pained, “And that was when he left... he didn’t kill him or stop him or provide any other help.  As soon as I did what he’d never...!”  He jerked, his eyes shutting tightly and his face contorted as if in pain.

The ex-blood bender began speaking again, in a calm, low, level voice.  “He never once fought back.  He was like a wall, in some ways... He took the punishment, but he never really did anything to stop what was happening.  He made a martyr of himself at my expense.  He had so much power!  But he never once tried to fight him!”  The politician looked straight into Zhen’s eyes as he said, “I had to do that.  And when he couldn’t play hero anymore, he left me to rot.”

Zhen shook his head in disbelief, “You’re a bender!” he snapped. “If you’d had some guts-!”

Tarrlok shook his head.  “He was stronger than me.  But in the end he fled like a coward while I endured.”

“You make it sound like you’re the victim!” Zhen shouted.  “How could a blood bender be a victim?  You have all the power in the world!”

“I was the one who had to fight back.  He ran.” It was like the shadows of the room were swallowing him up, body and soul.  “I took the abuse and the beatings and he, sainted and precious, played at defending me.”

Tarrlok looked up at him with baleful eyes.  “You’re blind to think that men like him are capable of any goodness.  They put themselves up as defenders, but they’re all bullies and cowards underneath it all,” the councilman sneered.

Zhen took a step back. He’d had seen men and women with hatred in their eyes—all Equalists were angry, you didn’t join the revolution if you weren’t full of righteous rage.  Some were furious at their families, who rejected them for being non-benders.  Some hated the powerful benders who oppressed them and took their work opportunities, but all Equalists were united by their fury.

Once that fury was properly shaped and directed, the powerful wrath of non-benders spiraled outward to strike at the bending establishment and inward to root out weakness…

Those were Amon’s words.

The anger in Tarrok’s eyes—no, radiating throughout his entire body was so intense he could feel it. The rage was like an aura.  It was just like in those ancient stories where men faced each other in battle and described their opponent’s killing intent.   The lieutenant would have sworn that he’d never seen anything like it…

… but it was so familiar.

Zhen stumbled for a moment, but recovered himself, “You don’t know Amon!” he snarled.  “He’s the most noble and humane person I’ve ever met!”

Tarrlok snorted.  “Is he?  A man who thinks so little of terrorizing a teenage girl?”  he asked.  “A man who would think nothing of destroying a people and their way of life?”

“What?” the lieutenant snapped.

“Don’t tell me you think for a minute that he was going to spare the Air Nation,” the politician retorted.

Zhen shook his head in disbelief.  Of course they needed to be removed, “They’re benders!”

A lantern went out.  Tarrlok’s face and form were thrown into shadow. His voice, however, cut through the darkness.  “They’re pacifists whose entire culture was nearly annihilated!” He snarled.  “And you Equalists wanted to finish the job that Ozai started.  Can you justify it?” He demanded. “Can you justify harming children?”

Zhen felt a twinge of fear.  He wasn’t afraid of the ex-blood bender, but of what the man was saying.  His voice was too strong.

“They won’t be harmed!” Zhen reasoned.  “Their bending will be removed!  It won’t make that much of a difference!”

“Then you will complete Ozai’s work.”

Zhen flinched and winced. He shook his head sharply.  “This is for the best!” He shouted. “There will be some sacrifices, but it’s for the best!”

“Do you really think so?” The councilman jeered. “Do you really think you know him?”

“Of course I do!” Zhen snapped, but he didn’t sound as strong as before.  His voice was growing weak as his head began to fill with doubt and questions… There were so many little things in Amon’s backstory that didn’t quite add up…

“You don’t know anything.”  The councilman hissed.  “You know a personality.  A character he’s playing!  I knew him before he became Amon!  I knew him when he was just a boy with a chip on his shoulder and talent to spare!”

Zhen stepped further from the table, his hands came up to cover his ears as he turned away from the politician.  “I trust him!”  He shouted.

“You want to know something…?” the ex-blood bender asked in a soft, taunting voice.

Zhen didn’t want to know any more.  He wanted the damn bastard to shut up and quit… disrupting everything.

“The night I took the Avatar prisoner, we fought.  You heard about that, right?” The councilman asked.

Zhen nodded.  He wished he hadn’t.

“She came after me.  I was trying to keep my head, in spite of what she said, but she provoked me when she accused me of being exactly like your leader.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Zhen snapped as he turned on the politician once more.  “You two have nothing in common!  The Avatar is a fool for comparing you two!”

Tarrlok chuckled softly.  “You’d think that, wouldn’t you?  I was so angry at being compared to him I attacked her.  We fought.  She nearly killed me and I gave in and blood bent her….  After all these years…  I never used it.  I swore I wouldn’t.  I swore I’d be better than both of them.  I swore that I’d never once…  But coward…. Monster that I am, I did it.”

Zhen could see the councilman’s blue eyes glinting in the darkness.  The Equalist couldn’t look away from those pale, glinting orbs.

“How do I describe my horror at discovering that her words were accurate?  We share so much your master and I.  Our lives intersect in so many ways…”

Zhen shook his head sharply.  “Name one!”  He shouted.  “Name a single way that you’re like Amon!”

“We would have torn this city apart to achieve our ends.”

“That’s not true!”  the lieutenant howled,  “You were tearing this city apart! Amon was trying to help us! Benders hurt us!  Terrorized us in our homes and on the streets!  You enabled them!”  Zhen snarled.  “We’re oppressed!  We’re making a stand!”

“But did you need a war?”

“What?  No!”  The lieutenant’s head hurt.

“You started a Revolution.  You began fighting in the streets.”

“We were striking back!” Zhen retorted.

“You could have put pressure on the council to bring on a non-bending representative, just like Amon could have reached out to be benders who are just as downtrodden and oppressed as non-benders and brought them into his revolution—making it a more effective and powerful movement.”

Zhen growled angrily.  “Why would any benders feel oppressed?!  They have all the power!”

“Triads don’t distinguish between benders and non-benders, but Amon does.  And Amon doesn’t care what happens to benders whose families are murdered by benders or non-benders.”

“Non-benders don’t murder benders!” The lieutenant shouted.

“Of course they don’t.  And your Equalists don’t overpower benders and terrorize them for fun when you’re not keeping them in line…. Your Equalists didn’t come up to the Avatar’s cell, looking for an excuse to get inside and have a bit of fun with an ex-bender girl that their leader had so recently humiliated.”

Zhen shook his head quickly; his hands came up to clutch his head.  “It’s different!”  He howled.

“Is it?”

“She deserved it!” He cried... he couldn’t believe he’d just said that…

“Are you sure?”

Zhen’s hands came down hard on the table, he gripped it, ready to assault the man in the dark, across from him.  “She needed to learn her place!”

Oh spirits, what was he saying? He didn’t really believe…?

“Just like non-benders had to learn their place?  Of course. Like looking in a mirror isn’t it? Same tactics.  Same view.  Different side of the tracks.”

The door hinges creaked.

Zhen gasped.  The lantern that had gone out flickered back to life and Tarrlok reappeared.

Both men stared at the door as it began to swing open…

Was it Amon?

Had Amon returned?

Or was it a chi-blocker?

The lieutenant snatched his head-gear from where it lay dangling off the edge of the table and pulled it on.  If it was a chi-blocker he needed to look ‘put together.’  They needed to believe their leaders were in control.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tarrlok smirk snidely at him.  The councilman seemed to know exactly what was going through his head.

A small, slightly built Equalist peered into the room cautiously.  “Uh… Mr. Esteemed Lieutenant, Sir?” she said in a soft, high voice.

It wasn’t Amon.  Zhen couldn’t hide his disappointment and anger at being interrupted by one of his subordinates.  He wanted to see Amon right now.  He needed to reassure himself that Tarrlok was lying aobut his commander.

Zhen glared at her sharply.  “What is it?” He growled.

The small Equalist stepped cautiously into the room. “Oh, good.  It’s the right room…  Ahem! Mr. Esteemed Lieutenant, Sir?  Amon would like a word with you.”

Zhen stiffened and turned sharply to, “I was ordered not to leave the councilman’s side!  Do you really want this man wandering around our base?! Exploiting our secrets!?”

The small Equalist nearly jumped out of her skin.  She stumbled backwards and immediately began bowing deeply, repeatedly, and profusely. “S-s-s-s-sorry Your Most Esteemed Excellence Right-Hand-Super-Manliness!  I-I’m just following orders!  Uh…! Amon-uh-!  Amon said that... um Mr. Councilor is to stay where he is...”

The small equalist cast a quick, nervous glance at Tarrlok.  “Umm... Mr. Councilor wouldn’t want to... to leave this room, because he, um, he knows what was good for him?” she offered.

Oh winged spirit of sky and sun give him patience, Zhen knew who it was!  Amon had sent one of the most inexperienced, flighty members of the organization to fetch him.  Yun was a sweet girl, she really was, but she lacked confidence.  And as much as he liked the girl—in a fatherly sort of way—he had been the one who’d put her on probation for delivering a certain, vital missive into the hands of a drunk Hiroshi Sato.

He pinched his brow and grimaced as he wondered what she was doing back in the base.  She was supposed to stay at home until she was contacted for review!  She was not supposed-!

They’d sent all the Equalists of Water Tribe descent home last night.  They were short-handed.  Of course she’d been called in…

He sucked in a deep breath and corrected her.  “You mean, he won’t leave this room if he knows what’s good for him, don’t you, Yun?”

He could almost hear the air woosh as the young Equalist nodded quickly. “Oh!  Also, I um…”

“Go on…” the lieutenant said through clenched teeth.

“I have a key to the room?  Amon wanted me to deliver it to you?”

He looked up and let out a heavy sigh.  She bent at a near perfect right angle with both her hands extended straight out in front of her, palms up, offering him the key like he was some kind of great lord or king…

… and she was shaking with so much nervous, frightened energy, that he thought she might collapse.

The anger and frustration drained out of him.

This movement wasn’t all about Amon, it was about people like Yun.  Small, nervous, frightened people who were so used to being abused that they’d come to expect it for even the smallest mistake.  It was about people like him, who just wanted the feeling of being trapped and helpless to end…

Whatever history Tarrlok shared with Amon, it didn’t matter.  His feelings for Amon, though important to him, meant very little in the grand scheme of things.  He needed to remind himself of that.  The Equalist Revolution was bigger than four men.

He smiled, shook his head at his own selfishness, and took the key from Yun.  She flinched when his fingers brushed her gloved hand, but aside from that she didn’t move.  Not even after he’d taken the key from her.

He frowned and sighed, “Yun,” he said.

She straightened to attention, saluting him like a good little soldier.  “Yes, Sir, Esteemed Lieutenant, Sir!”

“It’s just lieutenant, Yun.”  He studied the key and glanced at Tarrlok.

The councilman was eyeing Yun like she was the most outlandish and annoying thing he’d ever seen.

Typical bender elitist scum…

He turned his attention back to the young Equalist.  “I’m going to need some help carrying these files.  There’s quite a few of them…”

She sucked in a breath and he could see how she just… swelled at the idea of being helpful. “I’d be honored, sir!”

Zhen snorted and shook his head.  If it’d been anyone else saying that, he would’ve simply assumed they were kissing-ass. But he knew the new recruits and Yun was nothing if not completely sincere.

Yun turned, took a step toward the table and froze.

It took the lieutenant a moment to figure out what was going on.  It shouldn’t have.  Yun was staring straight at Tarrlok and he could clearly see the whites of the young Equalist’s eyes through her green goggles.

Tarrlok, meanwhile, was wearing an amused smile.  “Oh, what’s wrong?” he asked smoothly. “Are you afraid of the big bad blood bender?”

“Don’t worry.  You have nothing to fear from him now,” Zhen told Yun.  He smirked, “Amon purified him.  But…” the lieutenant gave Tarrlok a nasty, smug grin, “Ex-Councilman Tarrlok.  You’re standing between my young associate and those very important files. Move.”

Tarrlok glared at him.  “Of course.”

The councilman rose to his feet with a grace he hadn’t displayed since his capture.  As he stepped away from the table, he reached up and pushed his hair out of his face.

For Zhen, it was as though a curtain had been pulled back.  Tarrlok’s skin was darker than Amon’s, his face was longer, the nose was certainly not the same at all… but there was a terrible likeness in the form of the mouth, the shape of the eyes, the arch of the brow and forehead.  Even the color of those pale eyes… if not for the fact that Zhen knew it was Tarrlok before him, he would have sworn those eyes belonged to Amon.

How could Amon have the same eyes as this man?

Zhen’s mind spun.  He turned away, suddenly unable to bear looking at the man who shared Amon’s beautiful pale eyes.

Amon had said that he and Tarrlok could build a convincing history together.  He’d asked them to report that he’d taken his brother and the Avatar… 

His brother…

no…

A shared past…

No.

‘I know what you are…’

It couldn’t be…

‘I wasn’t my teacher’s favorite…’

NO!

There was no way this could possibly be true.  Amon’s family had been killed by a fire bender.  The fire bender had taken Amon’s face.  Amon’s whole family was dead.

But what if that wasn’t true?  What if he had a brother?  A brother who lived…?

The Avatar’s words rang in his head: ‘I know who you are, your brother told me.’

Oh, spirits, no…

“Mr. Esteemed Lieutenant, Sir?” Zhen looked up and saw Yun standing before him, holding a large stack of files in her arms.  “We shouldn’t keep, Our Most Exceptional Leader, Amon, waiting.”

[] [] []

A/N: I have hated scenes before, but I have not hated any as much as I hated this one.  It has gone through no less than 8 rewrites.  Half of those rewrites were in the past two weeks. Beta saved this scene.  Yun saved my f’n soul.

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