Prompt Post 2.0

[poetic_pixie_13]

With the season finale behind us I figure we'll have an explosion of prompts soon. So, new prompt post. Please post any new prompts in this post. But you can always find fic or fill more prompts in the original prompt post.

Rules!1) One prompt per post, please! If you have multiple prompts, no worries, just make separate posts for each. Please

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I can't resist sad!Tarrlok. Part 6/?

[anonymous]

Sorry about leaving this, something took over the past month. I think I'll be able to finish before the end of August (for the few hardy souls who've made it this far).

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Tarrlok called the front desk at City Hall early to let them know that he'd be working from home for the day. He'd made his way straight home last night, pausing only to remove his shoes, coat and shirt before stumbling into bed.

The expensive clothes still lay on the floor, gathering wrinkles as Tarrlok stared vaguely at them from his seat at the little desk in his room. He'd risen and dressed early after a restless night, but following that his energy had abandoned him. He didn't even particularly want to walk the few paces to his well-appointed home office down the hall.

The receptionist who'd taken his call had seemed a little nonplussed by the message. Even before everything, Tarrlok had been known around City Hall staff as a workaholic, one who tended to come to the office regardless of the time of day, the weather or even his state of health. A personal day was probably going to cause some speculation.

But newly acquired injuries would cause even more comment, which Tarrlok wasn't interested in dealing with just yet. Some objective politician sense told him he should report the attack anyway, considering the likely advantage it would give him-inspiring even more support for police action against Equalists, and probably earning his sympathetic headlines. Injured Councilman Fights Off Equalist Assassin.

Though the Lieutenant hadn't really wanted to kill him. The little madman had obviously just wanted to air some grievances, with a little casual violence added for emphasis. Tarrlok snorted to himself. Injured Councilman Fights Off Equalist Griper.

The sound of the doorbell below brought him out of his thoughts. A few moments later, his valet knocked softly on the door to his room. Tarrlok let the small, neatly-dressed man in, stepping back to let him place a small stack of folders on the table. “Your assistant said you'd requested these, sir,” the valet murmured politely, stopping only to remove the discarded clothing from the floor before exiting. The household staff had been doing their best to stay out of Tarrlok's way, instinctively sensing his desire to be left alone as much as possible.

He idly wondered if he should try to leave his room at some point just to give the maid a chance to clean and remake the bed. In fact, he'd been giving serious thought to dismissing the entire staff and moving to a smaller, less ostentatious place. The large house had been a celebratory gift to himself following his first successful year on the Council, and it was an embarrassing reminder of his once-extravagant approach to life in high society.

When he'd struck out on his own following Yakone's death, Tarrlok had studied, then worked in the growing field of law, first in the North Pole and then in Republic City. When the opportunity to run for a seat on the Council arose, it had seemed like a natural next step in a lifelong path to reach the very top while kicking Yakone's ambitions in the face. He remembered smiling for the cameras at his swearing in ceremony, privately wondering what his brother would think of him, the weak one now vowing to serve the city Yakone had expected them to conquer.

Shuffling aimlessly through the folders, Tarrlok wondered if Noatak had ever had similar thoughts. Had Amon ever looked out at the crowd at an Equalist rally and wished Tarrlok could be there? He was, perhaps, the only other person in the world who could have understood the true significance of the revolutionary leader's words and deeds. Tarrlok opened a folder at random and looked blankly at the top page. The words for a family tiff ran through his mind.

Had either of them ever really wanted to serve Republic City? He'd certainly convinced himself of that. Probably the same way Noatak had convinced himself that bending was the root of all evil. But when the opportunity arose, both men had been all too eager to seize power. And when things fell apart, they'd abandoned the city without a single look back.