Chapter Text
Kuvira shivered in her drafty prison cell, chained to the hard stone floor like an animal. Winter had come to Republic City, but prisoners weren’t afforded the luxury of extra blankets.
***
“I’m cold!” Kuvira shouted from her room.
She pounded on the door until her small fists were bruised and sore. No one came, as usual. Eventually, she curled up on her stiff straw mattress. If she lay just right, inside the permanent impression of her body, she wouldn’t get poked by any stray pieces.
But there was nothing she could do about the lack of a blanket. She usually had one, but it had been taken away after she broke the vase full of flowers.
Kuvira hated flowers. They lied. They smelled good, but tasted terrible. They were pretty unless you tried to keep them. They would turn brown and ugly. The flowers in the vase were already dead, so why did it matter?
***
No one visited her in prison. The guards were silent when they brought her meals, so her only company was her own thoughts. Angry thoughts. Anger was better than fear. She was not afraid. She had learned long ago how to conquer fear with anger.
***
“Where are all my toys?!” Kuvira demanded.
“We gave them to the little girl you hurt at school,” her mom said.
“She’s a big bully! I hate her! She’s always picking on me and telling me what to do!”
“Violence is not the answer, Kuvira!” her dad thundered. “Now that you’re a bender, you need to learn that, one way or another!”
“But–”
“That’s enough. Now go to your room and be quiet until dinnertime.”
The fury had nowhere to go but into the ground. Kuvira stomped and the house shook, but she turned on her heel and ran to her room. The last thing she wanted was to go to bed hungry again.
Her mom’s voice followed her. “I just do not know what to do with that child…”
***
How long had it been? Kuvira was sure that at least a month had passed since her defeat. Maybe more. The guards ignored her when she asked. She’d heard no word of a trial. Maybe there wouldn’t be one. Maybe everyone meant to move on with their lives and forget she ever existed. It would be fitting.
But the niggling worry in the back of her mind—the one that came up every time she tried to count the days—reminded her they may not be able to ignore her forever. From that, she gleaned a tiny bit of hope, however double-edged it was.
One Month Later
The large metal door clanged open and Kuvira looked up, expecting her next meal. Spirits, she was so hungry. All the time. In Zaofu, and during her time as the Great Uniter, she had eaten well and often. She hadn’t expected to know hunger like this again, as she had when denied meals as a child.
The four guards were empty-handed, though. She frowned, confused. There were never four at once.
“What’s going on?” she asked. To her surprise, one of them actually answered.
“The tribunal is beginning today.”
Kuvira got to her feet and smoothed the rough clothes as much as she could. “So I’m not going to be left to rot in here forever, then?” she said as her chains were removed and replaced by others.
That garnered no response. Her jailers had proven impossible to provoke. Not for lack of trying.
They loaded her into the back of a van. Entirely platinum, she noticed with a wry twist to her mouth. Do they still fear me so much, then? She had no plans to try escaping. It would be futile, now that she’d lost the power painstakingly gained over three years. The Avatar had spared her life once, but Kuvira wasn’t sure she’d do it again. Or worse—she’d take her bending.
Death would be better than that.
Kuvira’s stomach was growling audibly by the time they arrived. She stepped out into the painfully bright sunlight glinting off fresh snowdrifts and let herself be herded into a building. Though she didn’t spare it much thought, some part of her noticed that they were in an unfamiliar part of the city. No damage.
“So you’re just going to starve me?” she finally asked when they put her in a small room, chained her to a table, and prepared to leave.
“You will be fed shortly,” the last remaining man said as he posted up at the door. “And we have never starved you. Your last meal was at 0600. It’s not yet noon.”
Kuvira sat down and rested her head on the table. Not just hungry. Exhausted, too. She had no trouble sleeping, but it did no good. Too much rest. She needed to move around. Get her blood pumping.
But here and now, all she could do was wait. Wait and think.
Su is obsessed with family. Blood family, at least. And I can definitely use that to my advantage. She and the others may hate me, but I’ll be tied to Baatar forever if I’m right about this situation. I think I am. Too many signs. I can’t deny it anymore.
But I can only benefit from it if I time it right. I’ll wait until after the sentencing before I say anything. In the meantime, I’ll plead my case at the trial. Lay out all the facts of my accomplishments. They won’t be able to ignore those, if the judges are even remotely logical. And if I can convince them that I’ve given up my ambitions, maybe they'll let me go my own way. Then I can get rid of this problem quietly. No one has to know. Because I just know Su would never let me get away with that if she knew.
The door opened not long after, bringing with it the smell of bland food. But food, all the same. It was long gone the next time the door opened ten minutes later.
“Good afternoon,” a middle-aged woman said. She was dressed smartly with her hair pulled back into a bun. She sat down across the table from Kuvira and opened her briefcase. “My name is Chen. President Moon has appointed me to be your legal representative.”
“President Moon?” Does she mean Zhu Li?
“I suppose you’re not caught up on current events. Well, there was an election. President Moon was sworn in ten days ago. Her first order of business was to coordinate with King Wu and Suyin Beifong, as you’re a dual citizen of the Earth Kingdom and Zaofu. They agreed that the United Republic has the strongest grievance against you, and therefore will abide by the court’s ruling.”
“What about Baatar?”
“He was tried in Zaofu and sentenced to ten years house arrest.”
Kuvira gritted her teeth. She’d hoped to be given the same consideration if she surrendered and cooperated. A simple matter where the facts were laid out, a decision made. But no– It was to be a spectacle. A media circus. Giving up her empire and her ambitions wasn’t enough for the people she once considered family. They still loved Baatar, but they hated her.
“They just want to humiliate me,” she muttered, mostly to herself.
“The purpose of this tribunal is justice,” Chen said primly. She shuffled some papers. “Now. Let’s get to work. Tell me everything from the beginning, in your own words.”
***
“Are you sure about this, Kuvira?” Baatar asked.
“I’ve never been more sure about anything.” She put her hand on his cheek. The gesture had never failed her when it came to him. Eyes clouded with worry became deep green pools of devotion. “It will be wonderful. You’ll see. You trust me, don’t you?”
“I do. I do trust you. I know you can do anything you put your mind to. I know that it’s not in you to fail.” He gave her a soft kiss. “I’m just worried about Mom–”
Kuvira’s mouth twisted before she could stop it. “Don’t say it like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m your– sibling,” she said with disgust.
“I didn’t– This again? Spirits. I’m worried about my mother. What you– What we’ve got planned could destroy her.”
Kuvira rolled her eyes. “That’s a little overdramatic. She’s still got her city and all her wealth. She can hire new guards.”
“I meant emotionally.” Baatar pulled away and paced a few steps. “She’ll feel betrayed.”
“She betrayed her people—and us—when she refused to do anything. I’ve been out there, Baatar! I’ve seen the chaos. The families broken apart. Children wandering the streets. People starving because the entire economy collapsed and the strongest take everything for themselves. Someone has to stop this! And we have the power to do it! You know all of this, Baatar. We’ve been over it a hundred times. Why are you getting cold feet all of the sudden?”
“I’m not. I just wish doing the right thing didn’t feel so…wrong.”
“It doesn’t have to,” Kuvira said quietly, picking up his hand. “Let them go. We’ve got each other. Isn’t that enough?”
***
Kuvira spoke to Chen for a long time. It felt good to get it all out, to be able to explain herself without being interrupted by outraged protests. When she was finished, Chen sat back in her chair and studied Kuvira for a few seconds.
“Interesting,” she said. “I’m beginning to understand how you inspired the loyalty of so many. You’re remarkably good at spinning your own bullshit.”
Kuvira’s hands clenched on her legs. “Why are you even here? I don’t want to be represented by someone who’s already decided I’m guilty.”
Chen let out a short laugh and rubbed her temples. “My job isn’t to prove that you’re innocent. It’s to ensure that you’re treated fairly according to our laws. And, well, I have to admit– I’m shocked you didn’t realize that.”
“Oh, so I’m an idiot now.”
“Not at all. Just…blinded by arrogance.” She put her hand up before Kuvira could respond. “Look. Here’s the bottom line: You’re probably looking at life in prison, in my professional opinion. Your best bet is to plead guilty to all charges. Perhaps summon an ounce of remorse from wherever you can find it. Maybe you can get your sentence reduced to twenty or thirty years.”
Kuvira stood and put her palms on the table. “Actually, I think my best bet is to do this my way. I don’t want your ‘help’. I’ll represent myself.”
“That is very unwise.”
“I’ve made my decision.”
The courtroom, while nicely furnished, appeared to have been recently—and hastily—repurposed. Everything was mismatched. The wooden floor was covered in scuff marks. Behind the tall judge’s bench was a tapestry of balance scales, hanging slightly askew. Kuvira kept staring at it as if the force of her gaze could fix it.
In her peripheral vision, she had seen many familiar faces when she was brought to sit at a desk in the very front. She couldn’t see them now, but imagined their glares boring holes into her back.
None of that bothered her too much; it was what it was. But Korra was there, too. Kuvira shivered before she could stop herself. She wasn’t accustomed to being afraid of people—and she wasn’t afraid, precisely—but every time she thought of Korra, a blinding purple light flashed in her mind. So much power. Overwhelming power.
And what does she do with it? Almost nothing. Except save her enemy. She flails around like a ragdoll, impotent, either incapable or unwilling to make a real difference. And then just pulls the power of a thousand suns out of her back pocket.
It was utterly incomprehensible. Kuvira didn’t know what to do with someone so unpredictable and illogical.
A gavel banged, silencing the soft murmurs.
“The tribunal is now in session. Today, we will hear the testimony of Kuvira. Let the record show she has declined legal representation.
“Kuvira, you stand accused of the following crimes: Refusing to turn over emergency powers granted by Former President Raiko and King Wu. Commissioning and presiding over inhumane prison camps. Refusing aid to states who would not comply with your demands. Invading the independent city-state of Zaofu. Stealing vast amounts of valuable resources from Zaofu. Harvesting valuable natural resources from the Earth Kingdom without approval. Invading the United Republic, a sovereign nation. Illegally harvesting Spirit vines from protected lands. And finally, using a weapon of mass destruction, resulting in significant loss of life and millions of yuans in property and infrastructure damage. How do you plead?”
Kuvira let all of it wash over her. Everything being listed was simply the cost of war, which, in turn was the price of progress. She was far from the first with blood on her hands. History was full of bloodstained rulers.
She stood and cleared her throat in the tense silence.
“I apologize for the harm my campaign caused the Beifongs, and the civilians of the Earth Kingdom, Zaofu, and Republic City. I regret that I had to take things so far. But a simple list of crimes leaves out important and relevant information.”
“Please, enlighten us,” the chief magistrate said.
“After the fall of the Earth Queen, the kingdom fell into chaos and anarchy. No one was willing to step up and do anything about it. World leaders did nothing but argue, so I made it my mission to restore order. I asked nothing for this. Nothing but the freedom to help, which I was given only after I had already made significant progress.
“I brought stability back to millions of families. I dragged an ancient culture out of the dark ages and modernized it. Communication. Rail lines. A booming economy. Everything I did, even when my methods were harsh, was for the greater good of the kingdom as a whole.”
“How do you plead?” the chief magistrate asked again, her face a stoic mask.
Kuvira looked past her at the banner. Scales seemed to be a universal sign of justice, no matter the country. She weighed her achievements against the accusations and firmly believed the balance tipped in her favor.
“Not guilty.”
After a breath of silence, angry murmurs erupted behind her. She kept staring straight ahead and refused to let her convictions waver.
“Order!” the chief magistrate called, banging her gavel. “Order in the court!” She waited for the room to quiet. “We will now hear testimony from the claimants, which in this case are the leaders of Republic City, Zaofu, and the Earth Kingdom, who represent their citizens.”
Kuvira sat down and allowed her mind to wander. She didn’t need to listen. None of it was new information for her. Her eyes followed the wood grains of the table. Back and forth, each one unique but part of a tapestry. Nature’s art that most people didn’t ever bother to notice, much less appreciate. She acknowledged that she herself was one of those people. It was just a piece of furniture. A tool built for a specific purpose.
She felt rather the same way about the parasite she was quite sure was there, hidden away. Inconvenient, certainly, but perhaps a tool to be used. The way this trial was going, she accepted that she’d probably need to pull that ace out of her pocket. If they had let her speak last, she was sure her words could’ve moved the magistrates in the direction she wanted. But it was rigged against her. Her impassioned speech would be forgotten long before this was over.
Some time later—long enough that she’d stopped looking at the wood grain and had instead become consumed with anticipating her next meal—the tribunal went into recess. It would continue again tomorrow.
Still in chains, as she had been the whole time, Kuvira was led out, bound for her prison cell. Accusing eyes glared at her as she passed former allies in the hallway. They let her pass and, for a moment, Kuvira thought she would be able to continue unbothered.
“Not guilty?” Suyin said behind her. “The whole world knows what you did, Kuvira!” In a flurry of green robes, she appeared before Kuvira and her escorts, forcing them to stop. “What are you trying to prove?”
The disgusted anger on her face burned, and Kuvira looked away. Nobody understood. They were all so blinded by their hatred now. What was the point in trying to reason with them?
“Look me in the eye!” Suyin continued. “Look me in the eye and say it again. Tell me how not guilty you are.”
Kuvira gritted her teeth and made eye contact. “I don’t know what more you want from me. I already apologized. But it’s clear that none of you are ever going to forgive me. I guess I’m not that surprised. You and I both know I was never really part of the family.”
“That is NOT true!” Suyin seethed, eyes flashing. “I welcomed you into my home and raised you. You are the one who decided to distance yourself. And then you tried to kill all of us!”
“It was war, Su! I wasn’t given any other choice. And, as I just said, I have apologized.”
“Regret isn’t enough. Regret just means you wish things had gone differently. Of course you feel that way, because you lost. You want to know what I want from you? True remorse. Accountability. I want to see you take responsibility for the heinous things you did.” She took a sharp, shaky breath and looked away. Her eyes had looked glassy but it was hard to be sure now. “But I see now that you won’t. Goodbye, Kuvira.”