Korra vs Kuvira: The End of an Age (Part 3) (Patreon)

(Okay, I promised Korra today, so here's a good stopping point, but there's more on the way. I'm going to continue working tonight and post the finale, which should be just another 1500 words, tomorrow or Sunday. Enjoy, I think ya'll will really like this one!)

In less than an hour, the Earth Empire Army was rolling down Zaofu’s main street like a parade. The soldiers marched in time, upright and proud, their green and silver uniforms still vibrant and relatively clean. The clopping of their boots mixed with the grinding gears of the tanks, their glossy metal gleaming in the sun. It was more a public display than a true military action; none of them had seen combat that day.

Lining the streets, fearful spectators to the parade, were the citizens of Zaofu. It was far from the entire population, many hiding in their homes, but a goodly number gathered with bowed heads. Their city had fallen, leaving them humiliated and filled with trepidation about their future.

All eyes were on the lead tank as it ground its way towards the distant city capital.

The Earth Empress herself stood on the lead tank, hands behind her back, casting her eyes around at what citizens had gathered to watch. Her hair was once again immaculate, her uniform fresh and clean, the small scrapes and bruises she’d collected from her duel barely visible. She didn’t expect these people to accept her immediately, so she was happy to play the stern conqueror, making it clear she would brook no defiance.

However, she was only part of the reason the citizens stared. The other part was hastily strapped to the front of the tank’s hull.

Korra decorated the shining hull like a deer-cat on the front of a hunter’s jeep. The metal bands Kuvira had attached to her wrists and ankles had been melded into the tank itself, stretching her spread eagled, the curve of the tank’s hull arching her breasts outwards. More than a dozen lines of flexible metal, favored by metal benders, squeezed across her chest, stomach, legs and hips, either ends fixed to ringlets on the sides of the tank, supporting her and keeping her tightly secured. Even if she’d been at full strength, she wouldn’t have been able to move. And she was far from full strength.

The citizens stared at her in disbelief and disappointment as she passed them. Her left eye was puffy, her face and bare arms scraped and bruised, her clothing frayed and stained with the dirt of the battlefield. From a distance, she could be mistaken for unconscious or dead, her eyes open to slits, breathing shallow as her head jostled back and forward with the rumbling motion of the tank. She stood out as a dirty, tattered wreck amongst the polish of the triumphant army.

Korra stared aimlessly, watching buildings pass her by, blinking slowly. She had thought it impossible that she could feel this empty and tired. When she saw the people of Zaofu staring at her, sadly shaking their heads, she felt twinges of humiliation and shame, but the feelings drifted away, like she couldn’t hold onto them. She’d been burnt out in spirit, left in a nebulous haze, but behind it all despair hung over her like a smothering, gray cloud.

It was a surreal journey for the young Avatar. She was witness to her own defeat, knowing she’d been soundly beaten, the sounds of the army and the stares of the citizens of Zaofu reminding her she was on display. Spread wide on the front of the tank, wires squeezing into her athletic body, her eyes passed over one frustrated, disappointed face after another, and it fall felt like some sort of fever dream. Things couldn’t possibly be this dramatically hopeless.

The main street led directly to the square, where the city’s government building resided, a glittering, metal tower that looked almost like it belonged in a fairy tale. It stood tall from a base of classical pillars, draped in green banners adorned with the city’s seal, flights of steps leading up to its doors. Like the rest of the city, it was an architectural marvel, seamless and perfect, adorned with neatly kept shrubs and greenery that softened the metal’s austerity.

When the tank carrying Kuvira (and displaying Korra) rolled into the square, a delegation of city officials was already waiting by the center fountain, heads lowered and faces hard, bracing for something extremely unpleasant. The fountain was a scale model of the city itself and on any normal day, jets of clear water would rise up amongst the miniature towers in gentle arcs, babbling merrily. Now the jets had been turned off and the fountain was still. This was not a moment to celebrate.

As prepared as they were, several on the city delegation flinched when they saw the display made of the Avatar. They glanced at each other, swallowing, before regaining their composure. It was one thing to watch the Avatar defeated from afar, to know she was done for, and another to see her stretched out before their eyes like threadbare a hood ornament.

The tank came to a stop just in front of the delegation and Earth Empire troops fanned out from behind it, securing the area. A polished green car squeaked to a stop beside the tank and the Great Uniter’s advisors stepped out, all grins as they admired the beauty of the conquered city. Other tanks rolled in after, filling the square behind their leaders, silent reminders of the army’s might.

Kuvira remained upright at the moment of triumph, expression stony and coldly staring at the central government tower. This was the city where she’d grown up, where she’d honed her skills, and been educated. It had been years now since she’d seen its shining towers and they seemed slightly different now that the city was under her control. They seemed smaller somehow, less impressive. Ignoring the city leaders, she allowed herself several seconds to merely reflect upon the buildings that were now a part of her empire.

By the time she finished her reverie, the square was silent, everyone in their places and waiting for the show to begin. The Earth Empire generals, bureaucrats and soldiers knew to stay quiet, while Zaofu’s delegation was in no hurry to start the humiliating ordeal. Additionally, they suspected it might be a bad idea to interrupt the warrior queen of the massive army that had just conquered their city.

Kuvira nodded to herself, then jumped her feet out into a wide, metal bending stance. Still not addressing the city leaders, she snapped into several dance-like forms and Korra’s bonds came to life. The metal rings on her wrists and ankles broke free of the tank hull then reclosed around her limbs. The wires binding and supporting her body sprang free of the tank but still hugged tight, remaining snug as her wrist bonds pulled her up into the air.

Korra groaned as she was lifted off the tank, her head flopping down to rest on her chest.

The metal wires looped around the weakened Avatar as she was lowered to the ground. By the time her feet touched the ground she was an incomplete metal mummy, squeezing her legs together, pressing down her breasts, several bands even finding their way between her teeth to gag her. She was lowered to her knees, bound like meat from the butcher shop, before her arms were brought down and locked behind her back.

As the Avatar was settled kneeling before them, Zaofu’s leaders winced, but found it difficult to look away.

Korra started to melt to the ground, but the wires kept her right where their wielder wanted her. She grunted as a sharp motion of Kuvira’s hand made her back straighten, pressing her breasts outward. Her head was yanked upright and she stared through the city leaders with forlorn, weary blue eyes, silver wires pulled between her teeth like a bit. She blinked languidly, only partially conscious, nothing but a puppet on Kuvira’s strings.

Once the Avatar was presented as she wished, Kuvira hopped down from the tank and strode forward. Without a word, she stopped behind the defeated, displayed Avatar and clasped her hands behind her back. Her gaze cool, jaw set, she stared expectantly at the city delegates.

The message was all too clear to the leaders of Zaofu. They looked at each other, then the eldest, a man with a long white beard, stepped forward, where he bent his knee.

“All hail…” he knelt down and bowed, “Empress Kuvira.”

The others quickly followed suit. All knelt before the Great Uniter.

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Over the next week, a news reel made its way around the Earth Empire.

“Avatar Korra found guilty of all charges!” the nasal commentator exclaimed.

Korra, in heavy chains and surrounded by metal benders, knelt before a tribunal. In elevated seats, they stared sternly down on the bound young woman while one of them read out the verdict. The sound wasn’t recorded, but the look of smug satisfaction on the speaking judge’s face was enough to make the content clear.

Korra stared at the floor, wearing an expression of pain and weary resignation.

“After unlawfully attacking elements of the 3rd army outside the reclaimed city of New Zaofu,” the commentator continued, “The Avatar was soundly beaten by Empress Kuvira and taken prisoner shortly afterwards. The courts only needed a few hours of deliberation to find her guilty of sedition, attempted regicide, disruption of the Empire, and numerous other crimes!”

The judge finished with a few words that were clearly a question.

Korra nodded slowly, though her eyes remained on the floor.

“That’s right, Avatar!” the commentator said, “Break the law and you pay the piper!”

The reel then cut to new footage of Korra in Zaofu’s city square, now filled with onlookers as she was flogged. Fit into wooden stocks that left her bent over, her skirts and trousers around her ankles, she was dealt sharp blows on her bare bottom by an Earth Empire soldier, wielding a wooden rod. Each blow made Korra jump and cry out silently, the welts on her exposed backside visible even through the grainy color contrast of the old news reel.

“A thorough, public paddling was the first order of the day!” the commentator cheerily explained, “The citizens of New Zaofu got a front row seat!”

Her face shining with sweat, Korra bucked and threw back her head over and over, her eyes wide with shock at the compounding sting of the continued blows. The reel didn’t capture the sound of her voice, but her mouth gaped with each blow, crying out without reservation or dignity. Tears streamed down her cheeks, while the crowd of onlookers jeered or just shook their heads in amusement.

When she’d finally received the prescribed number of strokes, she sagged with relief, allowing more soldiers to free her from the stocks and drag her away.

“Now that’s what I call Earth Empire justice!” the commentator said.

The reel cut again, this time to Korra once again clothed, but being led out of a building in heavy, platinum restraints. A guard holding either arm and with two more following behind, she marched with her head low, eyes downcast, not bothering to watch where they were taking her.

“The Earth Empire doesn’t need your interference, Avatar!” the commentator said, “You’ll have plenty of time to think about that in your prison cell!”

The guards marched Korra into the back of a prisoner truck. She meekly let them place her in her seat and bolt her shackles to the floor. Staring hopelessly at the floorboards, she didn’t look up as the rear door of the truck closed, locking her behind its bars.

The last footage in the reel showed the prisoner truck driving away, leaving a faint trail of dust behind it.

---------

Wrists crossed and chained over her head, Korra hung in her bonds, staring glumly at the floor. Her cell was well lit, but it was completely bare inside, no furniture, just wooden floors and walls painted a clinical tan. This was the room where she spent most of her day, occasionally being let out to clean and take care of herself, and there wasn’t much to do inside other than be miserable and wait for someone to come for her.

Footsteps passed by her cell door and Korra looked up, but they continued on without stopping. She stood up a bit to take some of the weight off her wrists and sighed, looking back down at the floor.

Unless someone came to rescue her, there was no way she was getting out of here. Whatever Kuvira had done to her in their battle had taken something out of her. When she’d tried to use her bending, it was weaker and much less precise, sometimes even hurting. The Avatar state was impossible to reach and she felt disconnected in a way she hadn’t before. Something inside her had been damaged and she didn’t know if it could be made whole again.

Not that it mattered at this point. She’d been locked up, but she still picked up enough of what was going on to understand Kuvira had won. Republic City, the last traditional Earth Kingdom region not under Kuvira’s control, had surrendered quickly when her army arrived. The other nations had acknowledged her rule over her conquered territories and set up trade and diplomatic relations with the new Earth Empire a few days afterwards. A new balance had been created, one determined by the Great Uniter. It was over.

Korra slowly shook her head, too weary to shed any tears. Since she’d been captured, she’d been publicly punished, poked and prodded by doctors, and handled by various interrogators and behavioral educators. Every article of water tribe culture had been stripped from her. She’d been redressed in the drab green trousers and tank top of an Earth Empire prisoner, her hair pulled out of its tails and falling down her back in a simple mess. She slept standing up, hanging from her chains, ate tasteless gruel, and the most privacy she ever had was when she was left alone in her cell to think. Part of her still couldn’t believe things had gone this wrong.

The bolt on her door clacked open.

Korra looked up, surprised she hadn’t heard the approaching footsteps, but she quickly lowered her head again. It was much too late for mealtime or for her daily walk, which meant they were coming to do some more experiments on her or something else unpleasant. She’d tried to fight them when they’d come for her before and the punishment she’d received had taught her the only way to handle this was to brace herself and try to get through it.

Not even wanting to see what they had planned for her, she closed her eyes, trying to find her center.

A single pair of footsteps strode slowly into the cell. Korra expected more would follow, at least several guards, but there were none. The cell door closed, with only her lone visitor inside.

The footsteps continued towards her at a slow pace, each bootfall allowed to hang in the air and ruminate before the next one clicked against the tile floor.

Korra kept her eyes closed, head hanging almost as if she was asleep. She was too weary and depressed to be curious as to who her visitor was. A small part of her wondered but she didn’t bother to see for herself, even though to find out she’d only have to open her eyes. There was no point in hoping the visit would be something pleasant.

The footsteps finally stopped in front of her. They were still and said nothing, but Korra could feel her visitor watching her. Whether checking to see if she was awake or not she didn’t know, but she hoped it would buy her a little longer free of whatever misery was planned for her.

Korra heard the rustle of a sleeve as they reached for her. However, instead of shaking her awake, a hand smoothed through her hair, combing it back from her forehead. It was a firm touch, but soothing and repetitive, petting her in slow, long strokes that smoothed her hair back, let it fall forward, then brushed it back once again.

At any moment, Korra expected them to say something, but they remained quiet, patiently stroking her. It wasn’t being done to wake her up or tease her, but because they enjoyed touching her, feeling her soft hair. Not just the touch itself, the fact that they could touch her as they wished.

She realized who it was.

“Oh, Korra…” Kuvira said, “It’s been a difficult few weeks for you, hasn’t it?”

Korra blinked her eyes open. She lifted her weary head to meet the Earth Empress’s gaze, not feeling very strong or defiant.

Kuvira’s eyes locked onto hers like a cat on a mouse. She was standing very close and she leaned yet closer, interested in Korra’s sad blue eyes, peering into the spirit behind them. Expressionless, she stared, as intent as she would be in inspecting her troops, her shrewd eyes missing nothing.

It was difficult to look back into that penetrating gaze. Korra felt naked, that dark stare feasting on her weakness and vulnerability, and she simply didn’t have the heart to try to cover it up. She let her eyes fall once more, looking to the floor.

Kuvira didn’t allow it; her fingers clenched in Korra’s hair and she gave a small tug. It wasn’t overly violent, only lifting her prisoner’s head a few inches, but it carried with it a firm command: look at me.

Korra obeyed. She lifted her heavy eyes back to the penetrating gaze, sad and hopeless.

At the small act of submission, a grin pulled at the corner of Kuvira’s mouth.

“Yes,” she purred, “A very difficult few weeks indeed.”

She let go of Korra’s hair to stroke the Avatar’s cheek, gently with the backs of her fingers.

Korra swallowed and didn’t move, having nothing to say. This was the woman who was five steps ahead of her at all times, who had beaten her, and defeated the Avatar state itself. There was no smart back talk and no gesture of defiance that would mean anything in the face of those events.

Kuvira’s grin grew.

“Oh, Korra…” she sighed, “Korra, Korra, Korra…”

She let her hand slip down Korra’s cheek to her neck, then slowly paced around to her side.

“Several of my advisors think I should execute you,” she said softly, continuing to pace around, “Activate the Avatar state and end you. Break the Avatar cycle forever.”

Korra lowered her head and swallowed again. She had expected as much. In fact, she was surprised she hadn’t been executed already.

Kuvira’s fingers slipped over the bound girl’s shoulders as she circled to the back.

“They have so little vision.”

Her hand slid down Korra’s back. As she paced around to the Avatar’s other side, it rested gently just at the curve of her spine.

“And that’s why they’re not the Great Uniter,” she purred.

She stopped facing Korra’s side, her grin shrewd and wicked. Her hand stroked the Avatar’s back in slow, small circles.

“A uniter,” she leaned closer, her voice almost a whisper, “A conqueror…  has to be able to see what things could be, the possibilities. She has to be able to see the world, and everything in it, how she wants, and then make them so. From cities, to armies, even to people themselves.”

Korra shifted nervously, her brow pinching in worry. She couldn’t put it to words, but part of her knew what Kuvira wanted from her. Not just to beat her, not to destroy her, but… more. Everything.

Kuvira took her cheek and guided her to lock gazes once again.

“And looking at you right now,” the empress’ grin was almost ear to ear, “I can see… lots of possibilities.”

Carefully, like she was trying not to startle her, she drew closer to Korra

“And I’m going to make you into what I want,” Kuvira whispered, “The only question is if you’re ready…”

Slowly and steadily, she drew closer, watching to see if her prey would move away or resist.

Korra did neither. The Kuvira that was looking at her now wasn’t calm and controlled, but grinning fiercely, her eyes wide and almost mad. Everything that had been hidden inside—her hunger for conquest and domination, her will to control—was glaring forth, no longer restrained. There was no limit to her ambition and facing it now, Korra knew there was nothing she could do to fight it. There was nowhere to escape and nothing she could do other than be devoured.

“That’s it, Korra,” the Great Uniter hissed, “Look at me… and know.”

Korra stared back, weary and beaten, like so many generals and warriors before her. She could only wait to be feasted upon.

Kuvira’s sharp eyes knew the instant the Avatar broke. She growled, showed her teeth, then suddenly lunged and captured her prey’s mouth with her own. She dug in deep, her tongue plunging, exploring.

Korra’s eyes widened at the aggressive movement, almost an attack more than a kiss. She whined faintly, a blush coming to her mocha cheeks, blinking in surprise, but for all that she didn’t resist. Any tension she had melted away in moments, her jaw going slack, letting her conqueror’s mouth claim it.

Her lips and mouth were soft, unresisting, which served to make Kuvira want more. The empress curled her fingers in Korra’s hair and took a firm grip, pulling back to control her prisoner’s head. Korra let out a faint grunt but didn’t pull away.

The ravenous villainess growled again, relishing the gesture of domination.

The only sounds in the cell were that of pressing lips, soft smecks of passionate kissing, the empress’ purrs and her captive’s occasional mewls or grunts. To anyone outside, it would sound like someone was being smothered, and in a way they were. The last sparks of Korra’s will, dignity, and self-respect were being snuffed out as she slowly relaxed and accepted her domination.

Soon, Korra’s whimpers faded altogether. No matter how her hair was tugged, her lip chewed at, her personal space invaded, she silently, meekly allowed it.

When that happened, Kuvira abruptly pulled back on Korra’s hair, breaking the kiss with a soft pop.

Korra made no sound as her head was pulled back. Her breasts heaved beneath her tank top, her mouth hanging, lips and cheeks flushed. The kiss had left her out of breath, but it had taken something out of her too. Her eyes were lidded, even more tired than before, her expression vacant and dizzy. It was like the last of her spirit and energy had been sucked right out.

Kuvira’s eyes narrowed with satisfaction. She ran her tongue over her lips.

“Mmmmm. Excellent.” she purred, “As ready as I’ve ever seen…”

Korra didn’t know exactly what that meant but didn’t bother asking. Still breathless, panting gently, she just closed her eyes as Kuvira began stroking her hair once more, petting her like a sleepy kitten.

“You’ll be fine,” the empress whispered to her, “There’s honor in acceptance. And I’ll guide you every step of the way on your new path. I promise, I’ll mold you into exactly what you should be…”

Korra bowed her head, letting Kuvira brush her hair back.

“Now, mmmm…” the general paused to kiss the top of her head, “Are you ready to go for a little walk?”

Korra let out a soft breath. She nodded slowly.

“Yes…” she mumbled.

The next word slipped out before she realized it, but it felt right.

“… Empress.”