This was written for a prompt over at the ficbending community on LJ.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything!

Enlightened

Tarrlok groaned. He hadn't felt this awful in years. The last thing he remembered was Amon placing a finger on his forehead and then everything went dark.

His head shot up. He looked around frantically for any water, or a person for that matter. In his panic, he failed to notice that he was in a cell. Everything in the room was wood paneling. There was a hatch in the middle of the floor. The few windows in the room only offered him a view of the night sky with stars.

The hatch opened and he went into a standing position. As soon as the person came into view, he extended his hands and proceeded to bloodbend.

Nothing happened. He didn't feel the body tense or anything.

"No." he muttered. "NO!" His hands gripped the bars.

The figure coming out of the hatch turned and Tarrlok tensed when he saw that it was Amon.

"You've been causing quite a bit of trouble for me." The masked man said as he stood in front of his cell with his hands clasped behind his back.

"Where am I?" Tarrlok demanded.

"In the tower on Air Temple Island."

"Then Tenzin…"

"He and his entire family have been captured."

"What do you plan to do with me?"

"You'll be kept here. It's secure and secluded."

Tarrlok gritted his teeth. Even if he still had his bloodbending, Amon was immune to it. How was that possible? Bloodbending was supposed to be unstoppable. Despite the fact that the question of how he resisted it was on the tip of the former councilman's tongue, he knew that it would be a question that wouldn't be answered. He could live with that for the time being.

"How did you find the Avatar?"

"Surely your time being on the council has already enlightened you to that."

"I see. Of course you would have a high grade information network." How could he have been so surprised? "And the Avatar?"

"She escaped, but that is of little consequence." He turned his back to him. "But rest assured. The Avatar will meet the same fate as all benders." With that, he exited down the hatch.

Tarrlok growled in frustration. His life had turned into a downward spiral so quickly. He sat down and leaned against the wall. Sighing, he closed his eyes.

###

He didn't want to do this. It made him sick, but he was forced to do it. As he raised his hands, he barely managed to avoid throwing up from hearing the wolves emit cries of pain.

He woke up gasping. For a moment, he forgot where he was. Reality soon came back.

Amon. No more bending.

He tilted his head back and rubbed his temples. The scent of food filled his nostrils. Lowering his hands, he saw a steaming plate of meat. Next to it was a bowl of fresh water. Water he couldn't bend. He hesitantly reached for the food and held it in his hands. There would be no point for the Equalists to poison him.

With no one present, he didn't feel the need to have decorum while he ate. The last time he had eaten was before the other Council members, Lin, and Korra's friends confronted him; before his life crumbled.

After finishing the food, the picked up the bowl of water and gazed into it. He looked exactly like Amon's other victims: tired, broken, burnt out.

The water felt cool as he splashed it on his face. He then drank the rest.

This was humiliating. The once would be savior of Republic City was reduced to a shell. No, perhaps that was too strong a word for it. He still had some fight left in him. Amon had to have a weakness, even if he could resist bloodbending.

Tarrlok smiled. He didn't need bloodbending to manipulate people. However, he knew that it wouldn't be an easy task. He wasn't dealing with mindless politicians or an Avatar with self-esteem issues. No, he was dealing with a man that was near God-like.

He spent the day running possible scenarios through this mind. It was certainly better than counting the number of planks in the room out of boredom.

Still with plans in his head, the former councilman drifted off to sleep.

###

The sensation of his body contorting was agonizing. His bones were making loud cracking noises. His blood felt like needles in his veins.

Please make it stop.

He woke with a strangled cry. His body twitched. He had to get out of here. It was making him remember things he desperately wanted to forget.

There was a plate of food and bowl of water waiting for him. As he ate, he couldn't help but feel that a prisoner shouldn't be getting this kind of treatment. The food was too good and the water too clean. This also brought up another point: Why would Amon place him in a cell alone? Although the cell could probably fit one or two more people, what would be the point?

He thought about Amon's words 'secure' and 'secluded'. Obviously it was true about Air Temple Island, but it was also true about Tarrlok himself. Amon had chosen this place specifically for him. Spirits, he should have figured that out sooner! His mind and spirit had been so sluggish from Amon's touch.

His eyes widened.

It was similar to what he felt in his dream. The sensation of being bloodbent.

He must be losing his mind. Was Amon secretly a bender? It would explain why he was able to resist bloodbending. And his grip…

It was fortunate that Tarrlok was already on the floor because he would have collapsed.

"It can't be! It's not true!" he said aloud. There were multiple emotions coursing through him: anger, betrayal, resentment, happiness, hope. His body was shaking. These memories didn't start until after Amon had Equalized him. No, bloodbent him.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to lash out at someone.

He knew who Amon was.

###

Warmth surrounded him. Someone was holding him close. A loving presence.

It was worse than a nightmare.

Tarrlok was exhausted. Rolling over, he was surprised to see that there wasn't a plate and bowl waiting for him. Pink light filtered through the windows. Dawn was just beginning.

The hatch opened. He feigned sleep. Through his hair he saw the figure place the hatch gently down. It stood up and paused. The mask of Amon regarded the cell. Tarrlok sat up.

"Have you been giving me food and water?" He put on a mocking smile. "Seems odd for the leader of a revolution to personally see to the care of a prisoner.

Amon handed him the plate and bowl through the cell bars. He was close enough that Tarrlok could see his eyes inside the mask. Even though the lighting wasn't the best, he could make out that his eyes were a light shade of blue.

The masked man turned away. "Were you there to see me have nightmares, brother?" Tarrlok said to his retreating back.

He stopped walking. "An amusing ploy, Councilman."

"After all of these years, your grip still feels the same. Tell me, How long did it take you to learn how to take away bending with bloodbending?"

Amon turned around and walked up to the cell. "Being a Councilman truly suited you." His voice sounded lighter.

"Am I safe to assume the 'fire bender gave me a scar' story is a lie?"

"As if I'd be careless as to allow myself to get burned."

"So the mask is to cover up the fact that you're using psychic bloodbending. How ironic."

"I can say the same thing about you claiming to hate bloodbending, yet using it on me." There was a hint of disapproval in his voice.

"Trust me, I still despise it."

"And now you never have to worry about it again."

"I'd rather deal with that feeling than not have bending at all."

Faster than Tarrlok could comprehend, Amon unlocked the door. He went over to him and picked him up, holding him by his shoulders. "Can you really say that after what he did?" Amon's voice was deep, primal.

"I was planning on getting out of our father's shadow."

"Then why can't you see what I'm trying to do? Bending is the source of all evil in the world!"

"And what will happen when you're the only bender left?" Tarrlok asked calmly. "Are you going to become a martyr for your cause?" He could see the other man's eyes narrow in anger, but his body language stayed relaxed. "That sounds like part of the Avatar's duty."

"She's one of the worst offenders. Even the Avatar isn't above the corruption that bending brings. Should a person like that be an example to everyone? I'm doing the world a service."

"So you say."

"You should have come with me, Tarrlok." His voice was soft.

"I'm starting to think that it wouldn't have mattered either way." the former councilman sighed.

Amon slid his hands down Tarrlok's back and pulled him close. He then wrapped his arms around him.

"You're wrong, brother."

Tarrlok's arms remained at his sides. "Noatak." He felt the other man stiffen. So he was still there. Barely. When they were younger, getting embraced by his brother was one of his only comforts in the world. Now it sickened him. He had hoped that his brother running away had actually achieved something. They were both broken shells that had tried to piece themselves back together and failed miserably.

He didn't feel Amon slowly pull away from him. Didn't register the cell door closing and locking. It was only when he left that Tarrlok woke from his stupor.

He sank to the floor and for the first time after so many years, he cried.

I hope the angst wasn't too much. Thanks for reading. If you're up to it, I'd love some feedback about the characterization.