A/N: These 'parts' will vary in size because I feel as though 'chapter' sets an expectation for length. So the length will vary, based on the happenings in the plot, dialogue, etc. This is more like a prologue, so it's inherently , this is my first attempt at capturing Tarrlok's character, and he might be horribly OOC so bear with me :)

A wonderful thanks to my friend alchemistextraordinaire for beta'ing this for me. Lord knows I need it.

The Element of Change / Part I

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"Ling, fetch me some sort of alcoholic drink. Anything but vodka."

Tarrlok's elbows were propped diligently on his desk, but his face slumped into his palms as he worked his fingers against his temples. What a headache being a politican was! His head swam with curses as he glowered down at the frustratingly complicated papers that lay before him.

"Right away, Councilman Tarrlok," his squeaky assistant replied with a bob, scurrying away like a mouse. Tarrlok's lip curled - the sound of Ling's voice only made his head throb harder, the pain pulsating down the nerves in his neck.

A few minutes passed and Ling returned with a bottle of whiskey; Tarrlok couldn't help but smile as he screwed off the top and pulled a glass from his drawer.

Noticing his assistant still stood there before him, Tarrlok narrowed his eyes.

"You may leave," he murmured dismissively as he threw back the shot glass, the sting of the liquid making his brain feel a little more numb by the second.

Ling didn't move; he shifted uncomfortably as he tucked his hands behind his back. "If you don't mind me saying, Councilman Tarrlok —"

"I actually do mind," Tarrlok snapped, leaning back in his chair as he crossed his ankles.

Swallowing, Ling went on. "You seem very stressed. Stress doesn't look very well on a man such as yourself."

"I am not stressed," Tarrlok insisted as he poured more whiskey. "I am merely exhausted from these long hours. I am sure all the other members of the council are as well." He raised an eyebrow.

"The other members aren't working on your project," Ling pointed out. "They aren't working as long of hours as you are."

Tarrlok grimaced as he stared back down at his desk. Sprawled across them was a plan to build a city-sponsored school system. He had been pulling all-nighters for the past four weeks, cascading across the city to meet with investors and landowners. There were only so many sources of income for the city; he had been keeping his plans low-key, anyhow. The other council members were quite peculiar when it came to socialistic programs. Tarrlok knew, however, that once his plans were solidified and fortified - no detail left unillustrated - that the council would have no choice but to embrace his plan for the school system.

Especially since he was planning to announce it to the media before the council.

Meeting with private investors was crucial to his operation. It took suave and a great sales pitch to convince multimillionaires to invest in a school.

Tarrlok's primary target, so to say, was Hiroshi Sato - he was by far the wealthiest man in the city with a few attributes which would make him a good candidate as an investor. One being that he had a child himself - a daughter, who was quite grown, but his child nonetheless- and two being that he started from humble beginnings. Much like Tarrlok.

Tarrlok suppressed a smug smile, looking up at Ling. "I am handling my stress just fine." He shifted in his seat, feeling a crack in his neck and an immediate pain swelling in his spine as he whelped. He brought a hand to the area, trying to rub out the pain but it only increased, causing him to whelp.

"Councilman!" Ling exclaimed, squeaking like a child as he hurried to the desk. "What might I do for you?"

Tarrlok grit his teeth. "Find me someone to take care of my neck."

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After his Monday morning meeting with the council, Tarrlok decided to take the rest of the day off. The past few days had been wretchedly painful; the soreness in his neck never faded. If anything, it got worse - especially when he tried to waterbend. Apparently his assistant scheduled an appointment with some sort of healer - he was too agitated to ask for details - who would be coming by his house within the hour.

His driver whisked him away from City Hall, so that he might be present for this appointment. He cleared his books, even rescheduled the high-profile appointment he managed to snatch with Hiroshi Sato. Tarrlok provided an eloquent excuse: he was experiencing severe spinal pain and had an appointment with a healer. He surprised himself by telling the truth; often he forgot that he was in the business of spinning lies into half-truths. He didn't necessarily enjoy deceiving people. Tarrlok rationalized it was for a higher purpose.

Tarrlok glanced out the passenger window, eyebrows furrowing as he saw a girl standing on the sidewalk leading up to his house. Her head was tipped in the air, as if she were examining his elaborate house; many called it ostentatious but Tarrlok called it art. He designed it himself - architecture had been a hobby of his, next to political science - paying close attention to each and every detail.

Tarrlok pushed open his door as soon as the car came to a stop in the half-circle driveway. He shuffled towards the woman; why hadn't she noticed his fast approach behind her?

"Who are you and what are you doing on my property?"

The girl - no, she was definitely a young woman - turned around with a pleasant smile. She completely ignored his antagonism, holding out her hand in a very business-like manner.

"I'm Korra, and I'm your masseuse."

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