what is left worth saving

paring: makkora(at first); morphs into amorra(Or namorra or whatever you guys want to call it)

rating: T (for now – M will pop up in later chapters)

characters: korra, amon(noatok), water tribe folk, katara, tenzin, equalists

genre: tragedy, romance, forgiveness and of course SMUT! (later unfortunately; I have to make plot first)

summary: while taking a break from her duties as the Avatar, Korra returns home with Mako for a much needed vacation – that is until two water tribe children find a man half-dead out in the tundra. that man turns out to be Amon, the only problem? he doesn't remember who he is.

yay for amnesia fic! ya these things are done to death – seriously, and I honestly except quite a few of these to pop up soon, so I'm taking a crack at it for now. I honestly dreamed about this story last night which is good, because I woke up in REM which means I remember most of the story and have thus written out plot points. This is my response to the ending of LoK because DAMNIT! AMON LIVES!

just a quick note about Amon/Noatok in this story. I know a lot of the fandom is splitting them into two different people but I feel that they are the same. mind you what I'm about to write might differ, but this story is kind of Noatok becoming Amon again – er … I think. ANYWAY! my plan for this story is to have Amon rediscover himself and be just that – AMON. this authors note is getting lengthy… anyway enjoy – while I chill out on the S.S Amorra.

Chapter One: Time for Goodbyes

Just like the good old' days.

Time slows – Amon – Noatak, knows this is coming. He can feel his brother's heart beat – striking his own as his power carcasses over the thick veins in Tarrlok's chest. Noatak knows he could stop him, if he wanted to.

But he was tired. All his life, Noatak had blamed bending.

Bending was the reason for all of life's hardships; it created chaos and rivalry, pitting brother against brother and father against son. He truly believed his message; he believed that bending was an impurity that needed to be cleansed.

And he alone would be the one to pay the price for that dream. There was no happy ending for him, no sail away into the sunset – no family reunion.

His identity was bound to be exposed, and when it did – he only hoped that he would have been able to see his dreams come to fruition.

But that was not how things came to pass.

Instead he would simply watch as his only remaining kin, sacrifice them both to the Great Sea.

However, for the first time in what felt like years, Noatak relaxed. He inhaled deeply, taking in the sweet smell of the salty ocean that he had neglect for so long. His power was at its prime in this environment, he could feel every push and pull of the tides and currents; he could feel the fish moving through the water – and most of all he could feel the calming cold of the deepest parts of the ocean.

This is my grave, he thought, and my brother's.

Noatak felt the tears gather, he had been stone for so long – so compact and unfeeling; all this to keep up appearances. Even now this felt out of character for he had been Amon for so long - never Noatak.

But now, now he was Noatak. Son of Yakone, and brother to Tarrlok. He went through his memories, the ones before he became a water bender. Of the times when his father smiled – and when Tarrlok smiled. Of his mother and sea prunes, ice baths and snow ball fights.

He shed a single tear, shutting his eyes to the wind.

Noatak let out a deep breath, his entire body flooding with relief and he gave one last smile –

Before his world went white.

The pain was unbearable – his flesh ripping, burning. It was an interesting ending – he boasted lies about being maimed by fire benders and now the fire was his ending.

Noatak's body crashed into the front of the boat, breaking and bruising under the immense force that threw him forward. His tunic caught a blaze, crawling across his skin into every crease, and burning everything. Noatak wanted to scream, he wanted to cry out and agony and beg for this to end.

But this was his price and he would endure it.

As Noatak flew through the air ablaze he caught sight of his brothers limp body, floating inches from the fiery wreckage. Unlike Noatak, his brothers corpse was preserved to an extent; the hand that bore the Equalist glove was gone, nothing but a bloodied slump, but his clothes were charred, black around the edges and debris from the boat were embedded in his body; slicing apart the tender flesh.

But what shook Noatak to the very core – was his face.

His brother was at peace. No longer did he see the hatred, the anger, the betrayal etched across his face, just peace.

Slowly, his brother's body rolled with the cascading waves that dragged the dead body of Tarrlok down and into the depths.

That was when Noatak accepted his fate. He embraced the pain and the fire that burned his flesh. He accepted what his life had become and how it was to end; because in the end – he was able to give his brother something back.

When Noatak hit the water, the cold knocked the breath from his lungs. Out of fear and shock he inhaled, filling his lungs with sea water. Bubbles exploded from his lips, dancing to the surface where Noatak was able to watch the setting sun – one last time.

Although he panicked at the thought of drowning, he didn't fight it, not that he could with his body so badly burned.

Instead Noatak watched as the sky faded into blackness and the very ocean and life force of the water benders welcomed him back and dragged him into her depths.

Only when his heart stopped beating –

Did Noatak finally feel at peace.

South Pole – Three Months Later

"Aga! Slow down! You know the ice is thin around these part!"

"Well that's why I brought an experienced Water Bender with me! So you can keep the ice thick for me while I cross."

"Aga, I can barely managed to make a bubble without it exploding in five seconds – forming ice is something I haven't even tried yet!"

"Well you'll just have to take more classes with Sifu Katara and Sifu Korra!" the young girl announced dancing out of her companions way. The young water tribe boy chased after the girl, with his spear in hand trying to get her to avoid thin ice. It was the summer months, and the ice had melted back and the otter penguins were out in force chasing after the swarms of fish that danced across the shore.

The young girl, Aga, chased after a small otter penguin that was making its way towards the coast.

"Come on Sila! Help me catch an otter penguin!" Aga yelled back happily. Sila clenched his spear tightly grumbling under his breath as he used his water bending like another sense, trying to pick out the weakness in the ice so that he could both avoid it and warn Aga.

"I swear, you fall through the ice and I'm leaving you here to be food for the sea serpents!" he yelled at her.

She paused looking back at her companion, sticking her tongue out at him.

"Those are only in stories told by Sifu Katara!" she yelled before turning to chase after the otter penguin again. Aga only made in a few feet before something tripped her, causing her to tumble before coming to a stop flat on her back.

"Aga!" Sila yelled. He chased after her fallen form, coming to her side – careful to avoid the thin ice.

"Aga? Are you alright," he asked checking her over for bruises or injury. She simply gave him a painful pout, holding her knee tight to her chest.

"I'm fine, I just tripped over something." Both children looked up at the mound of snow that Aga had tripped over; her boot must have dusted off some of the snow because Sila was sure he could see something in the snow. He pushed Aga back a bit, warning her to stay back and seated before carefully advancing on the mound.

"Be careful Sila!" Aga urged. He simply waved back at her, spear held high to protect them if whatever she tripped over attacked. Although he was supposed to be practicing more with his water bending, Sila trusted his use of a spear more in protecting Aga right now.

The closer Sila got, the more he began to make out the mound of snow – as a human being.

Sila's eyes went wide as he stood before what looked to be a body. The skin was blue, and covered in burns, the hair on its head had grown back in patches, thick and uneven – the clothing was limited, showing off the cracked flesh and scars that marked the body. He guessed by the size that this was a man, but he was still face first in the snow, Sila couldn't tell if he was dead or alive.

Reaching down the young boy went to move the body, rolling it a bit to the side so that he could see his face.

Sila almost screamed – it was the thing of nightmares, distorted and burned he barely recognized it as human. But what terrified him even more was the fact that the body – inhaled.

Sila jumped back with a start, Aga behind him wide eyed and terrified.

"Did… Did he just – breath?" she asked. Sila pulled the thick mitt from his fingers to take his index and pointer finger and press it against the hallow of the bodies throat.

At first, Sila felt nothing – possibly just a fluke that the body inhaled. But then he felt it.

Thump.

Thump.

"Aga!" he yelled, turning to look back at the scared girl.

"Go get help! he's alive, barely – but still alive. Sifu Katara will know what to do!" Aga nodded and scrambled to her feet, rushing out towards the village calling for help.

Sila placed his spear down at his side and removed his coat, wrapping it as best as he could around the body, to at least give it some warmth.

"Don't worry Mister, I'll get you help."

All he remembers is pain.

Indescribable. Pain.

Just like the good old' days.

He opens his eyes to an unfamiliar world. It's spinning violently and he wants to vomit.

He tries to roll over but he is in so much pain that he can't move.

He doesn't know where he is and the uncertainty terrifies him. He can hear arguing; screaming in to his left but his vision is blocked by gauze. The yelling is getting louder and louder as it makes it way towards him.

The curtain flies back in a dramatic display and a woman steps forth.

His heart stops. She is the very image of a Goddess, perfect flesh moulded around defined muscle and an athletic figure. She has long locks of brown hair cascading around her shoulders and curl around to frame her face, with thick lips and bright blue eyes. He can't take his eyes off her, even as the sudden surprised look on her face contorts into rage. She's screaming at him, but he can't make out her words – it must be because of all the gauze.

There is one word he came make out; however, it's the one word she's been screaming at him since she came into the room.

Amon.

Who is Amon?