when the silver and gold sky meet, they don't crash.
they unite.
So when the Golden Boy of Piltover and the Silver Princess from Arcadia came across each other, they can't help but replicate the sky.
♾️
jayce talis x fem!oc
s1 : 📝
s2 : 📌
started �...
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♫ white flag - bishop briggs ♫
⌘
[Scene begins right where it left off, except all counselors except Korra, Jayce, and Mel have left. The grand Council room sits in a heavy silence. Korra's pulse drums in her ears as her gaze stays locked on her mother-Selene-standing just inside the room. But her vision flickers, unwillingly glitching between two versions of the woman. One, regal and perfectly poised in the present. The other, a shadowed figure from her nightmares-the image of Selene mercilessly killing Korra's father. A sight she could never unsee.]
PERHAPS IT WAS THE VERY TEMPTING ITCH IN HER EAR, BUT KORRA FELT THERE WAS SOMETHING MORE INFURIATING AND WORRYING IN THE AREA. Kor kept her face neutral, a skill she'd perfected long ago. She watched her mother weave through the line of Arcadian soldiers like a serpent through grass, her presence regal, poised-but Korra knew better. She wasn't a queen. Not really. She was a threat in silk.
The mother and daughter met in the middle of the room. The first real eye contact they'd shared in fifteen years. Behind Korra, Mel and Jayce stood in silence, as if sensing something fragile and dangerous unfolding.
Selene stepped forward with slow grace, eyes narrowed slightly but lips curving with that same haunting smile Korra remembered from her childhood-the one that came before lies.
"Oh, my sweet little girl," she cooed, reaching out with perfect precision to tuck a loose strand of Korra's hair behind her ear.
Korra didn't move. Every nerve in her body screamed to pull away, to slap the hand aside, to scream. But she stood there, like a statue carved from grief and rage. Still. Focused.
"How you've grown. How beautiful you are."
Korra searched her mother's eyes, dissecting every flicker of emotion, every false softness. Looking for something real. Nostalgia. Love. Regret.
She found none of it. Just calculation. And disgust.
"Hi, Mom," she replied quietly, her throat dry. "How have you been?"
Selene's fingers danced at the hem of Korra's dress, like she was inspecting a product on display. Korra barely resisted the urge to smack her hand away.
"I'm good, baby girl. You look... so much like your father."
The mention of her father was a sucker punch. Korra didn't flinch, but her stomach turned to lead. He wasn't just a memory. He was a ghost standing between them.
"How come you didn't come to greet me at the port? You got my letter of arrival, did you not?"
