Chapter Text
The first thing she noticed about Republic City was the smell. Making her way inland from the docks (and ignoring the stares of locals surprised to see her approach the pier on a raft of ice and rise on a column of water to step onto the shore), the heavy odor of machine oil and smoke hit her with almost physical force. Machines were not unknown in the North, but her people made an effort to preserve many of their traditional ways in order to maintain harmony with the spirit world, and the polar air did not retain and carry scents as effectively as the warmer breezes in these lands. It seemed that everywhere Eska looked, there were motorized vehicles and electrical conveniences of all sorts, even more so than among the Southern Water Tribe. For a moment, the tumult of lights and sounds was enough to distract her – but a single image rose above the clamor to refocus her on her objective.
There, pasted to a wall over a series of other similar notices, was a large poster enjoining the onlooker to attend a showing of the latest mover in the adventures of a character called "Nuktuk: Hero of the South." Between the two lines of text on the poster was a photograph of Bolin.
Without taking her eyes off the placard, Eska shot out one hand to seize a passerby – likely a dockworker, judging by his garments and body odor – by the shirt front. "Where are those performances filmed?" she demanded.
The longshoreman seemed about to protest, but the icy glare she turned to him quelled his indignation. "Varrick's studio isn't far from the docks. He bought out a block of warehouses about two streets down and turned them into mover sets." The man pointed vaguely down the road on which they stood, and then attempted to struggle out of her grip. Eska let him go, having obtained all she required from him, and started down the street. She had a husband to retrieve.
Though the walk to the studio was not long, the heat of the city was already beginning to feel unpleasant. Eska had spent little time outside of Water Tribe lands, save for the journey by ship on the way to the Glacier Spirits Festival in the South, and was unaccustomed to warmer climates. She paused briefly to remove her thick robe, finding the heat much more tolerable in the tunic and trousers she wore beneath it. Carrying the robe over one arm, she approached a building bearing a sign that read, "Studio A, Nuktuk: Hero of the South" and pushed open the door.
The set within was alive with activity. People rushed every which way, carrying sheaves of paper, reels of film, and esoteric-looking props; they dodged Eska as she strode across the open space, heeding nothing and no one other than the figure standing atop a mound of artificial snow, clad in a ridiculously inaccurate approximation of Water Tribe garb. "Husband."
Bolin started violently, which caused him to lose his footing on the slippery surface and sent him skidding down the mound on the seat of his pants to land at her feet. "Eska! What – how did – um – how lovely to see you, my darling rabbit-dove!" He scrambled to his feet again, casting his eyes about with apparent nervousness. "What, uh, brings you to Republic City?"
Activity around them had ceased. This drew the attention of Varrick, who was seated on a collapsible chair, reviewing a stack of papers and making modifications as he went. His head shot up and he quickly took in the situation. "Wait, no, this is great!" he exclaimed. "Nuktuk charms the only daughter of the evil Unalaq, and she falls in love with him and helps him escape her father's clutches! We can use this!" Eska ignored the man, but Bolin shot his best attempt at a stifling glare at Varrick; it seemed largely ineffective.
"The Avatar thought she could take you away from me." Eska replied simply. "She was mistaken."
"No, that isn't – that's not what happened." Bolin took a breath, steeling himself. "Korra didn't 'take' me anywhere. I left."
This was not the response that Eska had anticipated. The eyes of so many onlookers began to feel intrusive. "We should continue this discussion in a more private location."
Bolin's discomfort appeared to increase. "Uh, sure. We could go to my dressing room – it's right over there." He indicated the direction with one hand.
An image arose in Eska's mind of Varrick crouched at the dressing room door with his ear pressed to a drinking glass held against the surface, straining to hear their conversation. "Your lodgings would be preferred."
"...Yeah, we can do that," Bolin agreed hesitantly. "Varrick, I have to, um..."
"Go ahead, no problem!" Varrick flapped a hand at him in dismissal. "I have some changes to make to the script. They should be ready when you get back."
Bolin's shoulders slumped. "Great. See you later, then." Eska took his arm and led him away from the set and toward the door through which she had entered. "I hope," he added under his breath as they stepped out onto the street.
They completed their journey to Bolin's residence in silence; Eska took note of the fact that Bolin did not attempt to initiate conversation, as he often had during their romantic excursions in the South. Instead, he seemed subdued, nervous. Eska felt a stirring of concern, and considered attempting to draw Bolin into small talk, an activity that she had noticed often put him at ease. Before she could determine how best to begin such an exchange, however, they had arrived at his domicile. She allowed him to precede her inside.
* * *
He felt a hand press against his lower back as Eska pushed him – more gently than he'd expected – into the room. "It is suitable," she replied, removing a dirty sock from the coat rack by the door with her thumb and forefinger in order to hang up her robe. Then she turned to face him, closing the door behind them and leaning lightly against it. "You missed our wedding."
This is it... Bolin took a deep breath. "Yeah... about that. Getting married wasn't exactly what I had in mind when I came to talk to you that day." His body was practically vibrating with tension, ready to leap for cover at the first sign of the inevitable explosion.
Eska studied him for a moment, leaving Bolin feeling uncomfortably like a sparrowkeet under the yellow-eyed regard of a predator. "You spoke of a distance between us then. There is an aspect of our relationship that dissatisfies you?"
He braced himself for another step onto the creaking ice, wondering if it was about to give way beneath his feet and plunge him into the strangling depths. "Um, you could say that."
"Is it that we have not yet shared one another's bodies?"
"What? No!" Bolin backed up a pace, waving his hands in front of him in negation. "That's not what I was thinking at all!"
"You do not find me desirable?" she asked.
However Bolin had imagined this conversation going, this was about as far from it as humanly possible. Unbidden, his eyes responded to the question by focusing on Eska's body, and he realized that he'd never seen this much of her before. Without the heavy robes obscuring her form, it was utterly impossible to mistake her for her brother. She was slender and fit – not as muscled as Korra, but still obviously a disciplined bender. She had shapely hips, and though the neck of her tunic was cut too high to reveal much, he could tell that she had generous – "That's definitely not the problem," he said, pulling his gaze back to her face with an effort.
"Then what aspect of our union displeases you?" It actually appeared to be a sincere question, which only made Bolin more uncertain of how to proceed.
Despite its disastrous results last time, he settled on the honest approach again; maybe he just hadn't seen it through far enough before. "You scare me, Eska. I'm afraid if I don't do everything you want, the way you want, you're going to feed me to your dolphin-piranhas, or turn me into an ice sculpture at your father's next state dinner." He edged uneasily away from the hot tub. "I don't... I don't want to feel like a hostage instead of a boyfriend."
Eska's expression didn't precisely change, so much as it seemed to turn brittle. She didn't respond right away; instead, she drifted away from the wall and toward the chair nearest the door. This time, she took no notice of the dirty laundry draped across it, simply taking the seat automatically with her hands resting in her lap. She lifted her face to meet his eyes. "You are the first male with whom I have chosen to form a romantic bond," she began, her voice distant. "Other than Desna and my father, most of the individuals I interact with regularly are servants. I have... little understanding of how romantic partners speak to one another. It appears that I have failed to identify the appropriate social customs. The error is mine." She lowered her gaze.
For several moments, Bolin couldn't do more than stare at her. "You mean, you weren't really going to do... all those things you threatened to do to me?" he finally managed.
She seemed almost surprised by the question; it brought her head back up, and she regarded him curiously. "I viewed conflicts between us as a contest of wills. I simply employed whatever tactical leverage I felt necessary in order to prevail. I have no desire to cause you lasting harm."
Though the qualification of "lasting harm" gave him a moment's pause, Bolin felt the tension across his shoulders begin to release. "That's good to know," he sighed.
"Does that sufficiently address your concerns?"
It didn't, but now at least Bolin felt like maybe he could talk to her about the rest without fearing for his life. He dragged over another chair and set it opposite hers, sitting down in front of her. "There's something else," he admitted, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He looked up at her. "Sometimes I feel like... like I'm not sure how much I really matter to you – as a person, not just as someone to carry your bags and pay for your dinner. I don't know how much you care about what I want, or need, or think."
Eska's hands, which had been resting quietly in the lap of her tunic, suddenly clenched – Bolin readied himself to dive behind the nearest piece of furniture, but the tsunami he was expecting didn't strike. He looked carefully into Eska's face and saw her eyes unfocused and blinking quickly, as if to clear them. She swallowed once, and then spoke. "When our courtship first began, you were a mere amusement; a pleasant-looking barbarian who I hoped would prove an adequate diversion from the dreariness of our visit to the South. But you did not remain so." Now her gaze was fixed on her hands, but Bolin wasn't sure she saw them. "I observed several ways in which your behavior diverged from that of other males. You sought my protection without hesitation, and accepted my aid without shame. You were courteous and obedient, and though easily excitable, your enthusiasm was refreshing. You effusively expressed affection toward your friends and companions."
She fell silent then, leaving Bolin wondering if he was expected to reply – which would have been awkward, as he had no idea how to respond to this description of himself through Eska's eyes. He was just barely spared the embarrassment of whatever stumbling comment he had been about to muster when she spoke again. "When you were taken from me, I experienced distress... grief." She raised her eyes to meet his once more, and Bolin saw that they were brimming. "Pain." She looked away again, abruptly, as though she was uncomfortable with her own admission. "You had become precious to me. I had not previously realized how much so... nor would I have known how to respond if I had. These emotions are a matter of great uncertainty, as I possess little reference to model my actions regarding them."
That was a question, Bolin realized. Eska had no idea how to be in a relationship. She wanted to give him the emotional connection he asked for, but didn't know how – and she wanted him to show her. He had only a vague sense of how much it must have cost her to express even that much vulnerability to him, but the fact that she had done it made him feel surprisingly warm inside. The thought entered his mind, much to his own astonishment, that maybe they could work things out after all. It was at least worth a try. "That was a good start, actually," he told her. "It helps, knowing how you feel. I get that you're not comfortable being all that expressive, so maybe just... try to take an interest in the stuff I care about? Or consider how I feel about things, sometimes?"
Eska pondered this for a moment. "Will you inform me when you are unhappy with a request or activity, so that I may consider your feelings?"
It was a legitimate question, and deserved an honest answer. "I... don't know," Bolin confessed. "I'm still kind of uncomfortable with, you know, contradicting you or not going along with what you want. It's probably going to take some time before I stop being afraid you're going to freeze my head and hang it on your wall."
"That is inadequate," Eska replied, frowning. The expression made Bolin uneasy. "If you don't notify me that your needs are unfulfilled, I will fail to respond appropriately. This is what we will do," she informed him after a moment's consideration. "I will assign you a phrase that is unrelated to the subject and unlikely to come up in normal discussion – 'saber-toothed moose-lion' – and you will say it when my words or actions have caused you distress. We will then immediately cease the current activity and I will inquire about your emotional state and how I may better meet your needs. Is that satisfactory?"
The suggestion caught Bolin by surprise, and he took a moment to work through it in his head. It was a weird idea, but the weirdness might actually help get around his anxiety about arguing with Eska. The fact that she had come up with the plan herself definitely helped. "I think so," he agreed. "We'll try it."
"Good." Bolin had gotten plenty of practice reading Eska's facial expressions since that fateful day at the Spirit Festival, but he had rarely seen the look she wore now as she turned her face toward him. The tiny smile only barely curved the line of her lips, but it touched her eyes, softening them.
Then she was on her feet again. "Give me a tour of the city."
The sudden change of topic left Bolin struggling to catch up. "What?"
Eska's voice gentled slightly again. "This city is your home. It is important to you. I wish to learn more about it – to see the places you value most."
Bolin smiled. She's trying. "Yeah, that's a great idea! Let me just get changed out of this costume." He flushed at the belated realization that he'd been having a Serious Relationship Talk while wearing his Nuktuk outfit.
"I will remain here. Dress quickly," she instructed.
He headed for his bedroom, happy for the first time in as long as he could remember to do exactly as Eska wished.