𝓼ky meets 𝓵and, 𝓷eytiri!sophia x 𝓪vatar!fr
࿇ avatar!au & na’vi!katseye ⓘ slow burn, slight nsfw, conflicted sophia, surprise guest appearance † ✞︎ ♱ ✟ pandora’s eye universe ⌖ catalogue > part 2 maybe?
𝓹andora was a paradise serving people who loved it like slaves to a master. if there was one thing you had picked up on the last few days, it was that not much could be said in the same breath as the great mother, eywa. from the very first moment you sunk your toes into the rich, generous soil, filled your lungs with air swirling with the crisp scent of wet leaves and bittersweet aroma of citrus fruits, a part of you knew you could never leave a haven beyond any imagination.
you knew, when you were nearly trampled by thanators, when arrows with a distinct fletching shot from all around to drive them away, that you could never return to a life on earth.
not when she emerged, silent and deadly, bow drawn in hand, from the trees to back you into a bark. she hissed, ears pinned against her head, nose scrunched and her eyes creasing into dark crescents. with each sharp insult, her fangs bore, flashing under the frugal sun peering through the dense leaves of the trees. you listened, taking her scoldings with your tail tucked between your legs, silently apologizing to her for disturbing the forest, for disrespecting eywa’s peace with your noise.
“you’re loud. you’re clumsy. you don’t see what the forest is teaching you.” she snarled, “every crunch sounding from your feet is a reminder of your disruption, but you’re not listening.”
“you… you just saved my life.” you gasped, rendered breathless by every splitting moment of what you had just witnessed.
her grace. her ability to move with the silence. miraculous.
she circled you, hair framing her face. you gulped, feeling her scorching gaze rake over you, noting every flaw, every difference struck evident between your bodies. her head osnapped upwards, scanning towards every little noise made surrounding you. “if you keep moving like that, something worse will hear you.” she warned sharply, tone cold.
“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to. this place, it’s… alive.” you said.
she stopped in front of you, eyes glaring you from your five-toed feet up. she sneered, nose twitching at the unfamiliar scent of chemicals and man-made aromas. she was disgusted with the plain shirt draped over your figure, so stripped of colour, of rich culture; she grimaced. “yes, and it listens.”
she held a knife up against your neck, your ears snapped back, grimacing at the tip piercing through skin. you hissed, before she pulled it away, leaving a tiny cut in its wake.
“you don’t take a life here without reason.” she tucked the blade away. “and you don’t shout in someone else’s home.”
you nodded, caressing your neck. blood coated your fingertip.
“then teach me,” you croaked, clearing your throat.
she faced away, head tilting just enough to glare out the corner of her eyes over her shoulder. she leaped, hoisting herself up a branch. a beat, then she smirked. “try to keep up, sky people.”
since then, you were inseparable from sophia.
you were grateful her mother, carla, the tsahik, had decided against your execution or another violent alternative. instead, you were placed under her daughter’s guidance, to learn the ways of the omatikaya in hometree, so they could understand the sky people more through your incompetence.
“what is this?” she hissed, grabbing at your arm roughly to hold your hands up towards the light filtered through the trees.
you flexed your fingers, feeling her examine them intently.
“this is my hand?” you asked, eyebrows furrowing as she tugged at your ring finger. it was then you noticed she only had four fingers, longer than yours, and her palms were smaller.
she stood close, just inches from you, you could practically feel her shallow breath against your chest. it tickled the parts left exposed by the woven top they had so graciously clothed you in. it differed from sophia’s by pattern, considering she was the tsakarem, and yours lacked the decorative beads and feathers tied to it. though, the loincloth carla generously lent you was nothing short of beautifully stitched piece of art.
you felt different thoughts flushing through her head, her eyes darting back and forth between your fingers like it was the single most intriguing thing she had seen. and maybe it was.
“more fingers mean bigger advantages.” she handed you a bow, one of the practice ones they gave to the village children training to be future warriors. it was idiot-proof, and you used to be a soldier, but you didn’t complain. “draw your bow.”
you do, holding the bow in an outstretched hand, tugging the string, along with the arrow’s fletching, back with two fingers.
she immediately nudged your elbow upward, so the string pressed into your cheek. your tail snapped in a quick reflexive response at her foot kicking your legs apart. your breath deepened, feeling her hands brush the small of your back to straighten your horrid posture. you prayed to eywa she couldn’t hear your heart thrash like moths against your ribs.
she does, but she doesn’t say anything. she wasn’t going easy.
archery wasn’t exactly the hardest thing you had to master, it was relatively easy, your hand-eye coordination wasn’t the worst with arms training under your belt.
it took a couple tries, many, many critiques from sophia. but you knew she was being ultra-critical, hostile even, because you were human at heart. sky people. demon. and though you had been assigned to learn the omatikaya way, some part of her refused to believe you could lay your human nature to rest.
but her perspective changed with that first hit of the trunk.
your drawing arm raised, stance straightened with your legs anchored into the ground shoulder-wide. you closed one eye, nose scrunching in focus with your lips pursed. “skxawng,” she called you, apparently it meant idiot, and she liked letting you know the faces you made amused her quite a bit.
but with a subtle huff through your nose, the arrow left your bow, and lodged into the bark with a chalk-drawn bullseye.
you grinned, tail wagging lightly at the result.
your eyes lit up in pure excitement, pupils widening for a split second against the vibrant amber. your fangs flashing proudly, as you lowered the weapon in your hands to stare back at her.
she was already watching the edge of your features from behind, when your head snapped back at her, her eyes widened in surprise, like she had been caught staring. but she thanked eywa you were too caught up in your own elation to notice. so, she glanced away, clearing her throat. you watched her brush past you, wordless, hands reaching up to yank the arrow from the tree. her fingertips ran over the crack you’ve now left in that target, central among the scattered others.
warmth swelled in her chest--but she refused to name it.
a week or two into your adjustment of living like native omatikaya, you were already steamrolling into your first accomplishment. but the last thing sophia was going to do was spoil you rotten in compliments. she saw tough love growing up as the olo’eyktan’s daughter, there was absolutely no way she would soften for the likes of a sky person.
“again.” she barked, handing you the arrow. you comply.
the smile on your face is wiped, reminding yourself it was one bullseye among many, uncountable failures.
wordlessly, you drew your bow again. it felt more natural now.
during your early days spent with the woman, sophia had a guarded persona you were sure stemmed from a very strict upbringing. she was dutiful, fulfilling her responsibilities of nurturing you as one of their own despite having her own unfiltered reservations of you. you could tell from the way she glared, from the way her eyes always raked over your synthetic skin like she could see through the rich royal blue made to match hers and see the human half her size within you.
she had no trouble snapping at or berating you when you got something wrong. it was perhaps one of the things that came to her more naturally, next to being a teacher.
“kìyevame.” she enunciated, teeth bearing in exaggeration.
“kìyevame.” you did your best to say it as she had, but the accent was hard to grasp. a quick smack to your temple made your tail flinch, your ears pinned back at the force, but you don’t say anything, watering down your reaction.
“kìyevame.” she hissed, a tad more agitated than she was.
“kìyevame (good morning).” you repeated, eyes fixed on her lips, replaying the way they pursed when she said the word.
you sat opposing her, mirroring her cross-legged posture.
except, hers looked more fluid, like her body was made to contort the way it did. yours was a little clumsier, your foot stopping just before the bit of your thigh it was supposed to rest against. like a stiff doll being twisted the wrong ways.
she had a certain class to her aura, a grace you wished you possessed. her hair was always brushed straight, silky and reflective under the pandoran moon. her eyes may always be narrowed in irritant when looking at you, but you couldn’t miss how beautiful her double lids sat over those round, doe eyes. her lips were never chapped, always glossy with some home-ground balm. a dangerously tempting invitation.
perhaps it was the struggle that came with learning any new language, or rather, some other ulterior reasoning, but your gaze hadn’t left her lips since the two of you sat down.
the way they moved, pursed to pronounce certain na’vi words.
“kìye--vame.” she sounded out slowly, leaning forward. she didn’t seem to notice she was closing the gap between the two of you with each repetition of the word. “say it.”
“kìyevame.” you let your jaw loose, releasing the tension of your clenched teeth at the frustration of being unable to get over this silly little greeting. once the word leaves your lips, she visibly perks, leaning away. you were made aware of the air around you feeling lighter again, how your nose tickled with the forest instead of her. still, the pure satisfaction washing over her expression made your smile spread slowly, as does hers, before she could stop herself. “did i get it? kìyevame?”
she tilted her head to glance down at her lap, concealing her amusement. once she composed herself, her grin faded, but you see the hint of one ghost her lips as she avoided your eyes.
“you did. but not the second time.” she argued. “again.”
you knew she was poking fun at you, and though she was holding up that wall she desperately shielded any bit of herself behind, you were glad you got a genuine reaction for once.
you’ve made it your goal to see more of it; to see that smile of hers enough you could draw it freehand from memory.
you still hadn’t any idea what sophia thought of you.
you thought na’vi subtleties were harder to pick up than human ones, often misinterpreting their respectful silences as indifferent ones. she doesn’t let much of her slip through the stubborn armour she wore specifically around you.
day by day, lesson after lesson, the natives grew used to your company. granted, having the olo’eyktan’s daughter step first wherever you go filtered the judgemental glares and whispered na’vi insults. who were the common folk to disrespect the tsakarem’s guest? but, as you began greeting them in their mother tongue, sign respect to your elders with familiar hand signs, be apart of their everlasting customs, the sky people--demon--label started shedding, one difference after another.
a couple weeks deep into your time with sophia, you could tell you were gaining trust from the omatikaya.
the children adored you, whenever you accompanied the woman to the schools for a visit. sophia would teach them to sing, harmonious melodies you never realized were capable of being heard. it met your ears in a searing kiss, a smooth and gentle lover melting your fears, your stress, your anxieties from the inside out. you never interrupted, never applauded as her humming came to an end. you knew better by now.
you sat to the side, arms crossed and leaning against the wall of bark behind you, watching an entirely different version of this woman you’ve been leashed to. the way her hands caressed the children’s faces, fingers brushing through their hair tenderly, poking their funny bones to squeeze squeals and joyous laughter from their tiny bodies.
the usual tension strung between her eyebrows flushed away.
she carried a wide smile, teeth and fang on proud display between her lips. hard lines around her eyes faded, and her body curled into her legs to level with the children desperately pawing at her thighs in competition for her attention. a welcomed contrast to her warrior stance, one with her back straightened, her shoulders squared and head held high.
she was softer like this, real. not just a na’vi, but a soul.
you hadn’t even noticed you were smiling, like hers was infectious, how watching her in her element made a foreign sense swirl from your chest to the pit of your stomach.
you felt a tug at the band of your loincloth, you glanced down.
“you!” an omatikaya child, a girl, squeaked. she called your name like she needed the world to hear. she wore a determined pout, full cheeks puffed in authority. “are you sophia’s mate?”
you tilted your head at the question. “mate?”
“you’re always here when she is… your tail wags when you watch her with those big eyes.” she rambled, “tsahik carla tells me only mates are always together. like you two!”
you glanced back at your tail, forgetting how to stop it for a second before grabbing it lightly. still, you weren’t familiar with the ‘mate’ concept, you were sure grace had probably briefed you about this, but being blue and five feet taller than you were just days ago for the first time can be quite the distraction.
sophia chuckled, a nervous tinge in the sound.
she picked the girl up, gently prying her tiny vice grip away from your tsko. she cradled the girl, brushing her hair behind her ear. “eyla, we don’t bombard others with questions like that. we are good friends, and she enjoys the company of you little troublemakers.” she poked the girl in her stomach, and the most precious giggle comes from her. “don’t drive her away with questions, alright? now, go play.”
“but, sophia, you said our tails wag when we look at mates--!”
she carried the girl away from you, back to where the group of kids wrestled themselves to exhaustion.
you were left flushed with a few new questions to address.
1 ) what in great mother was a mate?
2 ) has your tail seriously been wagging like a hungry dog seeing a field of bones every time you’ve been staring?
3 ) why was sophia so quick to dismiss the topic?
the walk back to her family mauri was one of unbearable silence. you don’t bring up eyla’s curious outburst, or how quick sophia was to shut the questions down before you could muster your thoughts together to answer. she doesn’t break the tension either, walking with her jaw locked and her tail holding still, trailing behind her. she’s taken to walking beside you now instead of before. you remind yourself to keep your head straight, to not anger her with your questions.
you decided you were prepared to die to your curiosity when the silence nearly crushes you under its indiscriminate weight.
“eyla asked if i was your mate… what is that?”
her ears snapped back, her shoulders rising as she inhaled deeply through her twitching nose. she brushed her hair back, clearing her throat. “it’s nothing you should concern yourself with. she was just confused about the nature of our situation.”
oh… oh. eyla referred to that kind of nature.
“which is?” you pressed, treading lightly over the drawn line.
“i’m fulfilling my duty as tsakarem, to foster and nurture those who fall under my care.” she answered, like she was a politician dismissing a body reporter’s question. “by the tsahik’s order.”
you nodded, pursing your lips together. your hands wound together behind your back, and you looked away from her.
“is that it?” you commented, missing the way her ears flickered at your tone. “and here i thought of you as a friend.”
she doesn’t respond, but neither of you slow or pull away.
she dismissed herself when you reached her family’s mauri hut. her mother watched the ideal unfold, how your expression did poor job concealing the knowing look, or how her daughter, the fearless leader of tomorrow’s hometree avoided your persistent gaze like a beta. like prey escaping from predator.
your eyes followed her figure until the tarp draped behind her.
you didn’t know what to do, left alone with the tsahik for the first time since you were brought to have an audience with her the first day you arrived. when she spared your life.
your fingertips brushed your forehead, hand pulling down to sign in greeting. she nodded briefly, taking in your naive state. she gestured forward, offering the seat opposing her.
with practiced silence, your steps make no noise.
only the shuffling of your tsko against your thighs could be heard as you sat down carefully, your feet resting higher on your thighs than they did just a week or two ago.
“how are you fairing, tìng mikyun (visiting person)?”
you tilted your head, gaze never leaving her eyes out of respect. “well. i can converse with the children in na’vi, and my aim is getting better by the day, along with my stealth.”
she hummed, her hands working two curved weaving needles.
“i hear it, you no longer walk with the intent of waking every creature that inhabit this forest.” she said, in a tone you learnt was ‘teasing’ in the tsahik’s case. “tell me, ite (child), how do you find hometree, its people… how do you find pandora?”
there was no room for hestation in the speed of your reply.
“serene. there is nothing i adore more than being able to experience what it is like being omatikaya.” you smiled softly, hearing the weaving needles clink against each other here and again. “i am very grateful for hometree and its people. i am grateful for you, and for sophia.” your breath hitched. carla doesn’t look up, but her right ear raised in acknowledgment of the beat. “it would be great honour to serve the forest--eywa, to live among you, if that is the great mother’s will.”
her next words don’t come vocally; instead, she held out one of her needles, and you took them carefully.
she slid the bowl beside her across the floor, settling it in the comfortable distance between you. you glanced into it, seeing an array of beads, feathers, fibres, all gathered from the most beautiful sources, all nestled among each other.
she doesn’t need to ask, you began mirroring her technique.
the half she had made laid clearly as an accessory, a bracelet, perhaps, or if she continued weaving, a necklace.
your fingers felt too thick, too clumsy to be handling material as fine as those the tsahik gathered. but you manage, still, she out speeds you by a mile, and she smiled at the way your prominent brows furrowed in focus trying to thread the fibres.
“something has overcome you.” she said, when you leave the air untouched, your request for elaboration was quickly noted. “something has overcome you both. you and sophia.”
your lips parted in flabbergast, but pressed them together the split moment after. the tsahik really sees all, huh?
“just a… misunderstanding. at the school.” you stammered.
she hummed. “right, it is the day ma’itan (my daughter) teaches the children eywa’s song. she quite enjoys the periodic trek.” she watched you slowly find your footing on the weaving. “don’t be vague, ite. what was the misunderstanding that has washed over the both of you in such a solemn wave?”
you struggled to find the right words. this was her daughter you were talking about after all, you weren’t exactly comfortable discussing something so… intimate with her mother. especially not when you couldn’t afford to step over this line. the tsahik showed you mercy, but she had the hand to rescind that luxury anytime she wished.
“one of the children… she confused me for sophia’s… mate.”
carla doesn’t flinch, simply nodding slowly in understanding. she eyed your sinking head. “what gave her such an idea?”
you felt the back of your neck tingle with heat, a light shade of purple flushing your skin as you swallow your embarrassment.
“uhm… my tail, it was--it had a mind of its own. i’m still not fully sure of how to control physical expression.”
a chuckle escaped her at the implication, and the hilarious way you decided to word it. you were truly still a child, too young to be placed in an environment beyond your being. unlike her own daughter, you had the charm only a human could carry. it evoked the feeling a na’vi child would have seeing a baby ikran.
some parts of your cluelessness was adorable, she admitted.
“she said that it was a sign of affection, that the time sophia and i spent together was akin to that of mates, which i have little knowledge on.” your hands suddenly worked quicker, falling into a routine of weaving the charms together. “but sophia was quick to dismiss it, correcting her mistake.”
“eyla, i’m assuming?” your eyes narrowed, tail snapping in surprise at her guess. carla laughed aloud, shaking her head. “that one has more questions than there are answers in this world. she’s very, very curious at such an age, really.”
she reached over, correcting your grip on the needle. your excess fingers make it harder to manage, stubborn against the delicate wooden needle. the change gave you a better angle.
“do the sky people have the concept of lifelong partnership?”
the fluster in your cheeks began diminishing. you nodded. “we call it marriage, where two people celebrate their love in a grand ceremony in the presence of their friends and family. it marks the intertwining of everything they are and own.”
“i see.” carla murmured, “i suppose mating is in a similar vein. except there is no material celebration, no ceremony, just a ritual of acknowledgement before eywa through tsaheylu.”
you showed your understanding, biting your tongue before the question you failed to hold back bursted from you.
“has sophia found a mate?” you don’t register the weight, the intrusion of the question that left your lips. but your need to know trumped any fear of disrespect you should have.
her mother smirked, eyes scanning you, as if reading through your exterior right away. she doesn’t humiliate you though.
“not that i know of. ma’itan is ambitious, she focuses her time and energy on her duties as tsakarem as of now.”
“i see.” you said, a hollow reply as a victim of deep thought.
“but as daughter of the olo’eyktan, many suitors wait lunars of courting cycles for her hand. none of whom have intention pure from the desire to inherit my husband’s position.” carla chose a particular feather, one purple that faded into your favourite colour at the tip, painted in intricate patterns with black dye. she settled it in your palm, and you thread it into the necklace you had subconsciously chosen to make. “and my daughter’s reaching a ripe age to look for a mate. it is better for her to have somebody who sees her, not just for her status, or her responsibilities, but to shoulder her during times of need. to carry what she can’t alone.”
your fingers slowed. you wet your lips, tail falling flat.
the thought of sophia being courted, being swooned by some slick, incomparable half-shot revolted you. half the men you met in this clan made decent warriors, yes, but they rarely had endearing personalities. most had one thing in mind, to prove themselves, to be the best at some flashy contest of might. you couldn’t help but roll your eyes whenever the guys your age did the most to impress her when the two of you passed their training grounds, paying you less mind than they would a breeze blowing through their hair.
the women, oh eywa, the women might be beautiful, each more breathtaking than the next, but some let their goals be diminished to wooing the tsakarem. sophia didn’t enjoy things that came plated for her to eat, and she wasn’t one to fall victim to surface-level acts of persuasion. she saw beyond vanity, and she knew her worth. if she was going to harbour a mate, she needed them to level with her.
a strong woman can never be chained to a weak partner.
she never entertained them, never smiled, never let her gaze linger long enough to suggest anything other than normalcy.
you felt some form of satisfaction at the fact you were the only one blessed with her company. even if it was borrowed.
“what then?” you asked, slowly threading the fibres again. now seeing the bigger picture of why she was so quick to correct eyla’s assumptions. “what becomes of her place here? will she mother children? y’know… for heirs, and such?”
“oh, dear ite. that is a question only sophia can answer.”
you thought back on your walk from the school to this mauri. her silence indicated many things; perhaps she was taken aback by your interpretation of your relationship? she seemed almost… offended, like the thought was so unfathomably ridiculous she couldn’t gather words that could describe it.
you wanted sophia to like you--nay, needed. you can’t imagine upsetting her, continuing on as a burden, as a load of weight being added on to the boulders she already shouldered.
you were going to befriend her, on her grounds.
“tie the end twice, ite. it secured the necklace, so it doesn’t break during moments of great conflict.” you do as told, tightening the end of it. beads scattered along the fibres, the prominent purple feather carla handed to you before standing out, dangling in the centre. “that way, it can be worn during flight, or… other shaking circumstances.”
you smiled, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “thank you, tsahik. for the necklace… and the pleasant chat.”
“as you embrace our way of life, we learn to embrace all of you, as you come.” she stood, you wait for her to finish before you propped yourself to your feet. “a tsahik’s duty is to see, and offer guidance.” she held a hand on your shoulder, her palm rough against the supple skin there. you exhaled deeply. “even when the need for it hasn’t dawned as a realization yet.”
the phrase gave you comfort, a sizeable ease for something you don’t really understand just yet. but the exchanged left you feeling steadier, of your mind, and your place in pandora.
the coming days blurred together in a whirlwind of lessons.
you were no longer hesitating when you draw your bow, your ears pinned back as your gaze sharpened. your legs parted just right every time in a practiced manner. your aim honed with your skills, all arrows lodged nowhere further than the second circle surrounding the mocking bullseye.
your steps lighten, sometimes even softer than sophia’s. you run through the forests, jump from one tree to another like you knew it, no longer being swallowed by the density of it. you use it to your advantage, hiding better, moving faster. hunting became less of a challenge, and more of a routine. you were nearly bettering the hunters who had trained their entire life. you told yourself it was the human in you, the discipline you used to experience as a child now strengthened, an advantage over your pure-blooded peers who saw it as a weakness.
mistakes can’t be demonic influence when none are made.
sophia noticed, it never took long for her to. the two of you hadn’t spoken about your walk, about what you had said that left her so speechless. the comfort you had worked so hard to foster now simmered back to short exchanges and transactional. no words from your lips carried no meaning. and so she responded, she replied, but never strayed from it.
she could barely register how much progress you’ve made in such a short time of living with na’vi. how the sophia three months ago would think you local. that perhaps you were just lacking a little in training. but the way you carried yourself became less humane, and more native with every move.
though you still crawled the way a marine would, swinging and jumping from trees made it obvious you had five fingers, but in a way, these subtle disparities drove your improvements.
suddenly it wasn’t just children you could commune with in na’vi. you charmed elders, they laughed at comments you make on their stories, scolded you like you were their flesh and blood when you told a teasing joke about their wisdom. it was still broken, a tad robotic, but much smoother than it was.
sophia didn’t know when it all changed, the tight feeling she felt in her head when she had to teach you. you had become less of a headache and more of a constant in her routine.
you were getting more attention from the locals, immersing yourself in their lives through tentative acts and conversation.
which meant men and women now saw you as an opportunity.
it first started at the market, when she brought you to the valleys of hometree some older woman usually manned stalls. they shared fruits they harvested, treats and delights they prepared with care for the masses to enjoy.
your names are called, attracting you to the stall automatically.
the two of you greeted a woman, mo’ari, with the familiar gesture, and she nodded her head in response.
“aren’t you two a sight for sore eyes around these parts of hometree?” she teased, and you both chuckled at the compliment. she waved you closer. “come. i’ve made some tsyksha bites since kiri nuts have come into season.”
you both stood outside her stall, as she pulled out a couple leaf-wrapped dumplings. she set two down before you, and you carefully untie the leaf, occasionally jerking your fingers away from the sheer heat of it being fresh out the fire.
you take a bite, fangs nipping into the food. it offered a crunchy texture, your nose scrunched, fangs bearing just to bite into it, expression akin to that of a cat eating kibble. when you manage to bite through the skin, a savoury, and slightly bitter flavour floods your tongue. you hummed, ears relaxing as your eyes fluttered shut. you grin, licking the sides of your mouth for any remnants of the oil roasted out of the snack.
“dear eywa, this is the most delicious thing i have ever tasted.”
sophia watched mo’ari’s face light up, beaming as she pinched your cheek. a soft smile plagued her lips, watching the woman coo at your enjoyment of her food. she watched, so intently that she had nearly forgotten about the snack in her hands.
“you and that silver tongue,” mo’ari whined, laughing at your charming smile. “better not spoil me rotten with your words before you get yourself in trouble, tìsyay fì’yu (cheeky one).”
“if you cook my last meal, i’m more than content with that.”
sophia subtly shook her head at your words. truly, human charisma had to be studied. your flattery rolled out quicker than one could think, and seeing the local omatikaya’s attitude go from threatened to endearing, made her feel… pride?
before mo’ari could respond, a figure emerges from the tarp seperating the stall from the mauri. a slender figure you had never seen before, or paid attention to, came into view. your gaze trailed from her peculiar tkos up to the way she wore her hair. it was then you realized she was staring, only at you.
“oh! have you two met my daughter, marquise?”
she stood beside her mother, taking the hand you offered. you introduce yourself, but she’s already smiling, still not sparing the tsakarem a glance. you cleared your throat at her odd behaviour, trying to distract from sophia’s obvious shock at the lack of respect for her. “nice to meet you.”
“you must be the warrior who fell from the sky i keep hearing about.” she said, “i’ve heard all about you and your time here.”
she grabbed your hand, you bit back a snap at the action.
you always felt vulnerable, like you were being stared at by every being possible when someone held your hand up, bearing the phenotype of your demon genes. you swallowed, ears back at the discomfort coursing through your body. but to be polite, you let her examine you, like a museum exhibit.
“fascinating.” she purred, she eyed your face, down to your necklaces, to your woven top. your gazes meet again. “of all the things i hear, none of them have mentioned your… beauty.”
you laughed, one pushed out your lungs. “thank you.”
true enough, your avatar resembled you in certain aspects. but the emphasis of certain features, your eyes, your lips, your beauty marks and bone structure, made you easy on the eyes.
you had just never heard someone be so forward about it. and neither had sophia. it took everything in her not to scoff at this girl’s attempt at flirtation. she hated the desperation reeking from marquise’s body language, or so she told herself.
“mother tells me you’re her favourite mouth to feed,” the woman said, earning a click of her tongue from mo’ari. “i don’t blame her, yours being such a pretty one.”
she dragged a thumb across your lips, you flinched slightly.
words were failing you, this was the first time you were being openly flirted with since becoming an avatar. you had caught a few wandering eyes here and there, but none had the heart to vocally romance the five-fingered guest of the omaticaya.
sophia’s previous lighthearted smile had soured into a stoic expression. a poker face practically leaking her annoyance.
there was nothing inherently wrong with flirting, not with her, not with you. but to do it in the presence of a tsakarem you don’t have the manners to greet was an entirely different story.
“marquise, is it?” sophia interjected through gritted teeth.
her hand left your face, only to smile at the shorter beside you. the smile is sharp, faulty in the corners that betrayed her feigned genuineness. you watched her, the practiced grin you see her flash superiors, mostly her mother when she’s given a new chore to complete. you knew it well, and you empathized with the poor girl for being on the wrong end of it.
“oh, evening, tsakarem.” she spat, a vocalized eye roll.
“careful. she bruises easy, i don’t need to explain to the tsahik,” she hissed the word, “that you’ve hurt the clan’s newest warrior with your… shameless carelessness.”
“forgive me, tsakarem, that is the last thing i want.” she bit her lip, glancing back at you. her hand found your arm again, tail curling around your leg. you only smile, not saying a word. “just admiring the infamous half-blooded omatikaya.”
sophia grabbed her wrist, squeezing it tightly.
“you admire with your eyes, not your hands.”
marquise pulled her arm back, caressing her wrist. the two women glared at each other, nose twitching and their ears swung backwards. their tails stood high, you swore you’d seen two alley cats circle each other like this once.
“you must have places to be.” mo’ari stepped in, a hand tugging her daughter behind her. “why don’t the both of you take some tsyksha bites as a snack for your trainings?”
you reached across the counter to grab them, dipping your head in thanks. your hand palmed sophia’s nape, leaning forward to catch her attention. “your family must be waiting for us to start dinner. why don’t we go home, tsakarem?”
sophia remained glaring at the other woman, but obliged, brushing past you to strut away from the stall.
your hand fell from the back of her neck, cradling the snacks in your hands. you gave mo’ari and marquise one last nod. “thank you for the food. and it was nice to meet you, marquise.”
you jogged after the olo’eyktan’s daughter, halting beside her.
you could feel the regret of letting her irritation get the best of her through a deep sigh she let out. you let her have a moment to breathe, before you decided to lighten her mood.
“i’m sorry.” you said softly, tilting your head to look at her.
she scoffed, a tiny grinon her lips. “why are you apologizing?”
you shrugged, pursing your lips. “i wasn’t expecting her to be so… extroverted about her advances. i’m sorry i didn’t stop her, and for not correcting her very, very rudley ignoring you.”
this made her laugh. a short-lived sound, but you savoured it.
“i don’t mind the lack of respect as much as i do the shameless pining.” she confessed, inhaling deeply. “i suppose she didn’t really do anything wrong…” she murmured, as if reminding herself of the fact. she suddenly caught your gaze, and you swallow at how much… emotion was swirling in her eyes. you can’t pinpoint it exactly, what was from what in that amber haze, but it wasn’t the cold stare you were used to. the air shifted between you. “what did you think of her?”
your lips parted, a breathy question hung from your lips: what did you think of a woman you met for five minutes?
“she’s nice.” you said, “wastes no time, gets to the point.”
was that a good or bad thing? did you like women who were forward with their thoughts? their emotions?
“…but a little much. i prefer a more grounded presence.”
you watched her process your makeshift review of the woman, the irritation knitted in the lines of her face slowly fading.
“me too.” is all she said, before glancing over at the bioluminescence taking over the natural light of hometree.
you nudged her gently. “so… the clan’s newest warrior?”
she rolled her eyes, melodic voice sounding in your ears as a pitiful laugh. they flickered in response. “oh, shut up.”
the setting sun cloaked a tasteful orange and pink over the sky, and the specks along your coats began glimmering against the darkening atmosphere. you smiled, a knowing one, as you continued walking alongside her. a silent walk back to the mauri, but this one differed from the last. the silence was a sign of the comfort finding its place between you again, sophia letting herself take that first step to letting you in.
you hadn’t thought about the sky people--your people, since the day they left you to fend for yourself on an all new utopia. you couldn’t remember the last time you wondered about them, about whether or not their plans had changed since you were bestowed with the mission of harvesting all eywa had to offer in the form of pandora’s life.
you don’t remember how you overheard, how you found out, but once you did, the hunt was long forgotten.
you couldn’t believe your ears. grace, whose hands helped make this version of you, this body you’ve grown to love, that allowed you to eat, love, and be loved like the omatikaya. nothing on earth could evoke the feeling being on this planet did, and to hear the plans to destroy hometree, to destroy so many innocent lives that earned their right to live in and with the forest, for gluttonous profit was heartbreaking.
the very reason you were made, your purpose as an avatar, now stood facing you. and you had to make a decisions.
your feet carried you home, yes, home to the na’vi who had so graciously taken you in as one of their own. you don’t even register sophia checking you all over for injuries, worry etched in her expression after losing you from the party during the hunt. you begged for an audience with godfrey.
“no, you aren’t listening to me! they have guns, they have robots, they have things designed to kill you.” you yelled, a hand against your chest in desperation. “no ikran, no na’vi can go against their army of machinery with bows and arrows, they will take every life that stands in their way. you need to unite the clans, that’s the only way you aren’t outnumbered.”
“we our faith, and our own warriors. no battle is too big for a na’vi too small.” godfrey hissed, glaring down at you.
“with all due respect, sir, you are sending your warriors to die!”
“you will speak to me where you stand, tawtute (outsider).”
though the entire clan gathered around you, no sound was made as the label echoed. it cut your ears like a knife to your gut, your head snapped down at the sheer force of it.
“father.” sophia hissed, almost disgusted at the spat slur.
he held a hand up, not even bothering to glance her way, but it silenced her regardless. he descended from the hill he was perched on, standing to face down at you. carla glanced away, unable to watch her husband commit such cruelty.
“my wife, the tsahik, may have been merciful enough to not kill you with your tainted blood. but you do not come into my home and tell my people what is best for them.” he growled in your face. he pushed you backwards, you stumbled down the edge of the slope, into where the clans people stood. they backed away, like your distinction was an infectious virus they could be riddled with. you swallowed thickly, hands balling into fists, head hung low and your tail slumping against the floor. “leave. before i make an example of you to those friends of yours. of how the omatikaya deals with sky people.”
you exhaled, eyes fluttering shut. you thought hard, shooting him one last glare, before turning to make your way through the path the people frantically parted to make.
not out of respect, not out of pity; but out of fear of the sky.
you wandered out the safe bounds of hometree, feet dragging you further away from the warmth and bustle of your fellow omaticaya. oh. right. not your fellow omatikaya; they were the natives, you were the imposter with a human consciousness stuffed into an avatar meant to replicate their physical form.
the form you owed humans, your fellow humans, for taking. the form that now dropped the debt you were past due to pay.
a voice called your name. and it took you no longer than a split second before you turned around to see her sprinting at you.
you head snapped all around in caution, grabbing her by the shoulders once she was within reach. she panted against your chest as you backed her into a cave-like structure beneath a decaying trunk. you pinned her against it, nothing about your composure said gentle. she had never seen you so paranoid, so anxious, so scared of something. it made her skin crawl.
“what are you doing, you skxawng?” you hissed under your breath, glancing over your shoulder. “you could get fucking shot any given moment, you hear me?” you shook her, mindlessly thrusting her against the tree.
she grabbed your wrist, a tender gesture in contrast to the rough way you still had her pressed against the hard surface.
her face twisted, nose scrunched but came with no menacing undertone. her brows furrowed, but it didn’t reflect her usual sass. her lips quivered, bearing her fangs as a reflex, but not to intimidate; because she feared. she was scared of you. she stared at you like the others, like months of living with them was flushed away and they hadn’t forgotten you were human.
you sighed, clearly stressed, letting her go. you backed up.
“i’m… i’m sorry.” you murmured softly, “i’m sorry, forgive me.”
she caressed her shoulder, eyes not leaving your frame, a tiny action you knew was part of being aware when you stood in enemy territory. the last thing you wanted was to become that; her enemy. you mentally beat yourself for scaring her, for being one of them. you swore you would never upset her.
“you’re not safe out here, tsakarem.” you reached out to pat her arm, but she pulled back on instinct. you balled your hand up, biting the sting of karma. “you need to go home. now.”
“what do you plan on doing?” she questioned, voice lacking its usual protective authority. “to face them on your own?”
you don’t answer. a look you couldn’t name crossed her face.
“to… join them?” she said it like every word burnt her tongue.
“no, of course not!” you immediately snapped. you wet your lips, shaking your head. “the less you know the better. but, please, for the sake of everyone’s lives, you have to convince your father to unite all the omatikaya clans. to fight as one.”
“no, no, i can’t. he has decided.” she insisted. “things are being prepared, warriors are being briefed… it’s done.”
“sophia, please. as much as i want to kneel to the olo’eyktan’s feet, he does not understand how grave of a threat humans pose.” your voice shook from the sheer force you put into every word. “there’s nothing i can do in there now. i will do what i can to help on the other end, but…” the words don’t leave your throat, vocal bob wires cutting through your neck. just the thought of it all, of the destruction, the chaos, the mass deaths--especially hers. you felt a rage burrow in you like no other. “we need everyone. we need the full force of the clans if we even want a chance at making out of the war to come.”
she paused, before reaching for you. her fingers slipped through yours, and yours wrapped around her hand. you feel her squeeze your hand, the tender gesture a stark contrast from the usual brushes and pushed on training grounds.
“there is a way for you to gain immediate authority, to overthrow my father’s rule.” she stated, eyes wide and still. “but there’s a great chance you’ll die before you succeed.”
you had no time to spare to gush over the fact this was the first time the two of you had such casual, yet, intimate contact.
because if you don’t act fast, it will be the last.
“tell me, sophia.” you pleaded in her mother tongue, hands tightening around hers in desperation. “please. for our people.”
our people. sophia couldn’t have known months prior the anatomically inaccurate avatar of a human would say that--would be able to beg to save her, her species, her home, in full na’vi. her eyes darted down to your hand in hers, four fingers entangled with her three like they were a molded fit.
it was not the humans she saw in your hands. it was you.
she saw you--your stupidity, your clumsiness, your ambition; she saw your heart, one pure of mucky intentions. oh, your brave heart, every beat now devoted to protecting her people.
your people. she sees it all. and she couldn’t ask for more.
“there is a beast that rules the sky, one indiscriminate of who it hunts. a lover of chaos, of bloodshed--the toruk.” she said, you nodded for her to continue. “to ride toruk is to carry every clan’s fear, every death to come, and to lead not by strength, but by sacrifice in eywa’s name.” her gaze found yours, steady and grave. “if toruk ever chooses you, it will be because pandora needs you more than you need to be brave.”
she stepped closer, eyes now boring into yours.
“toruk makto is not a title you chase, not an achievement most na’vi can dream of as a child. it is a burden eywa places only when the people are breaking. when the sky itself must listen.”
you nodded. “to tame toruk… how will i know it chooses me?”
she let out a shaky breath, the ghost of her next words on her lips making her knees weak. “it will try to kill you.”
any other day, the idea of this would have been unfathomable. you would not have agreed to it in a million years. now you stood atop a cliff, saddled on the ikran you had been bonded to since you took flight. beside you sat sophia on hers, her hair tied back and war paint now smeared across her features in precise strokes. you needed to get this over with quick, the omatikaya were walking into their own graves.
you scanned the skies, eyes narrowed and ears pulled back. you, too, had done your hair in a way it wouldn’t fall into your face, a cumberband over your top and across your body. you clutched onto the centre satchel, feeling the weight of this decision finally wash over you. but you placed a bet on your adrenaline knocking some sense to you in a moment.
your name is called softly, and you turned your head. sophia had gotten off her ikran, now standing beside your, hands stroking its neck. you don’t need her to say it aloud, her eyes made her request clear enough; you hoisted yourself off.
she spared no time, fixing the strap across your torso. she made sure everything was secure, before her hands placed flat across your chest, where she could feel how oddly calm your heart was. you were prepared to come back with your name to be said in the same breath of na’vi myths some will only ever hear as a bedtime story, or not come back at all.
and you had come to terms with that risk. it was necessary.
even if it was eywa’s will for you to pass here, it would mean balance would eventually be stricken. and as much as you want to be here to keep the natives from suffering at the hands of human gluttony, you had faith in the great mother who had brought you hers. to them. to her.
“when you fly, listen to the forest. move when it moves, breathe when it breathes, and never rush its path for you.” you held her wrist softly, that’s when you felt she was shaking.
the almighty, fearless daughter of the olo’eyktan. shaking.
“i know, tsakarem. just like you’ve taught me.” you assured.
your peaked away the cover of the satchel, pulling out something in your palm she couldn’t quite see. you stepped around her, brushing her hair aside as she helped, despite being confused as to what you were doing.
“i’ve been meaning to give you this.” you clasp it, setting the end of it against her nape gently. your thumb brushed the skin there, resisting the urge to plant a kiss there to seal the gift. “but i couldn’t find the right time.” she turned to face you, head tilting down to look at the feather she held up in her palm. her eyes examined the necklace, whilst yours made quick work of committing this image of her to memory. in case it would be the last time you saw. you tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. she looked at you again. “consider it a thank you, for taking care of me and my skxawng ass.” you chuckled, “i know i’m not the easiest student, but i’m grateful for a teacher, a… friend, as patient as you.”
there were a thousand things she wanted to say, but none came out. her eyes welled with tears, the more you spoke, the more this felt like a goodbye. and though it pained the na’vi in her to admit, she wasn’t prepared to part ways just yet.
“please return to me. for our sake. we need you.” was what felt right to say. her hand cupped your cheek, and you leant into her touch, grabbing her wrist and caressing her gently with your thumb. “there are stories here that aren’t finished yet.”
she turned away before you could respond, and she threw herself over her ikran. you shared one last look, her hand over your necklace, before it dove off the cliff with a screech.
you let the remnants of her warmth linger, before you reached to touch your ikran. you threw yourself over him, before the tips of your kurus connected. he took flight with a jolt.
the toruk. a warm-toned asshole who ruled all those up high.
topped the food chain, hunted whatever and every space he entered bowed to him. he had nothing to fear, no worry about something clawing him from behind. he made sure he flew the highest; in turn, meant he had no need to look up.
your ikran flew up high, until you could sift your fingers through the clouds. you felt lightheaded, an unfamiliar pressure against your chest. sophia never took you above the mountains, much less above the layer of clouds.
then you spotted him, a magnificent apex predator of the sky.
“easy, boy.” you whispered, bent down against your ikran. your hand clutched the reigns, the other unbinding your kurus.
he lowered, until he hovered just over the creature. chrome and colour scattered along his back, wings spreading the size of two ikrans combined. you smirked, fangs piercing the air, as you swallowed any nerves threatening to blow.
you placed a hand over your cheek, where sophia had last.
with a gruff exhale through your nose, you pounced, feeling the air push against you. the moment you land, a spine-chilling screech echoed across the valleys of pandora’s mountains. your hands desperately clutched onto the back of toruk, as he spun carelessly, trying to shake you from his back.
you reached for his kuru, but he tilted sideways, flying straight for the side of a cliff. you gasped, bracing yourself, before letting one hand go, hanging off the side of it. its back is dragged into the jagged rock instead of you, and it let out another shriek of pain. he flew in circles, flinging you around.
you were sure you should’ve plummeted to death by now, or worse, torn apart limb from limb by this beast.
you climbed back on, feeling your muscles ache from carrying your body’s weight against every natural force imaginable. you avoided the thrashes his tail made against his own back, but you reached for his flailing kuru, and a tsaheylu was formed. an overwhelming sense of heat rushed through your body. like fire shot up your spine and into your mind. you grimaced, eyes strewn shut in pain for a brief moment, roaring into the sky.
until the pain seized, and you were suddenly feeling an irresistible urge to kill. to kill the humans, to avenge the clans you had helped them exterminate.
you laughed aloud, feeling him stop resisting. you still felt his hesitance, his reservations about the sixth rider to ever tame the blood hungry beast in him. but amidst the courageous act of you sneaking up on him, of you desperately hanging onto him, he felt your fear. a fear you weaponized, instead of letting it become a weakness. and toruk respected that.
“how about that first dance, huh?” you yelled, laughing away the adrenaline. “you are one hard pain in the ass, y’know that?”
he flew downwards, nearly snapping your neck in half against the top of a tree. you screamed, clutching onto him as he flew back into place. you nodded, directing him towards hometree.
“okay, message received.” you sighed, panting.
hysteria suddenly broke out among preparations for war against the sky people. carla and godfrey strategize with the beys warriors in their clan, discussing tactics in their hut since the sun began setting. sophia stood, listening, a hand clutching the necklace you had given her. it had been a good few hours since she left the cliff, leaving things unsaid between you. and her thoughts were beginning to consume her:
should she have been honest with her words? should she have said what she wished to instead of what she had?
no. that would’ve been selfish. you couldn’t afford the distraction, anything that could take away from your foci on staying alive in attempts to become toruk makto.
she was starting to regret it, bringing the idea up. only five toruk maktos existed in centuries of na’vi history, and all of them had been men. but in a hurry, she just wanted to help, to make sure you wouldn’t join the sky people, to make sure you would remain omatikaya, even if it meant you went out as one.
now, you could be dead. you could be half eaten in toruk’s stomach. and she wouldn’t have time to mourn.
the fear of unknown gnawed at her, bit by bit, she crumbled.
until one of the warriors, a young man who had earned his warrior torso band not long ago bursted into the mauri. godfrey was prepared to shout, to scold him for not respecting the rights of war in the hut. but his words escaped him in a ramble sophia assumed was half shock, half excitement.
“she has returned!” he yelled, hands waving in a disordered manner to convey his flabbergast. “the toruk makto!”
everybody left the mauri without godfrey’s dismissal.
when you pulled into hometree, toruk’s wings sent gust after gust into the clustered clan’s people. they had once again gathered as an audience for you, but this time, their looks of fear, of disgust had turned into ones of awe, of utter horror that they were now standing in the presence of a new legacy.
toruk landed, letting out a single, powerful shriek.
you hopped off, severing your kurus. your eyes don’t leave the chief’s family at the other end of the sea of na’vis.
they bow at your feet, hands reaching out for a brush, a glimpse of the first female toruk makto striding through them. you had never seen such a unanimous tribute; guess this title might be just as great a deal as sophia said it was.
as you approached, you felt her gaze on you, wide, and a smile statically flickering on her lips. she couldn’t believe her eyes.
the avatar, the one forced into her care was now standing before her; not as a human, but as the highest form of na’vi one could possible be--toruk makto.
you tilted your head, that tiny antic she hated so much because she could never look away when you did it. you don’t say anything, letting your eyes fill the gap between the two of you, before you turned to her parents. carla had a look of disbelief, but one projecting some sense of pride. godfrey, on the other hand, was beyond shaken to his core.
still, you approached him with respect, standing just beneath him. above the same hill he banished you on. you turned slightly sideways, addressing not only him, but all your people.
“i was born of the sky people, and i was trained to fight for them, but my eyes were opened here, under this sky, among your people.” you announced, “i was a warrior who dreamed she could bring peace, yet everywhere i walked, there was only loss.” you rested a hand against your chest, ears pinning back in submission. not to godfrey, to the omatikaya. you stood upright, a determined glint in your eye, like the toruk’s love for war burned inside you, “i choose to stand where my heart learned to belong. i am toruk makto, and i will fight with you, not above you, until eywa decides my last breath.”
silence engulfed the clan, awaiting the chief’s next words.
he stepped forward, towering over you once again. but this time, he reached for the knife tucked into his torso strap. he raised a hand, before knocking into your chest, the tip of the blade leaving a tiny cut in your chest. your lip twitched, but you don’t flinch. he nodded, stepping down beside you to speak levelled with you. he held his blade out for you to take.
“toruk makto.” he announced, like he couldn’t believe it still. it was the way of na’vi, even he could not betray tradition, be ignorant in the face of courage. “i will ride with you.”
sophia smiled, as does her mother. the clan let out war cries.
you took his knife, tucking it into the holster built into the strap sophia had given you. it was then you finally had a moment to speak to her, to feel her grab you by your arms and pull you close. she brushed the tiny cuts along your eyebrow, from the countless attempts toruk had made to murder you.
“you are insane, y’know that?” she said, shaking her head.
her eyes brimmed with tears, but none fell. you cupped both her cheeks, the first time you had initiated contact, but you needed to feel her. to know she was real, that she was here,
“thank you, tsakarem.” you whispered, “for… everything.”
the tsahik called your name, and you turned. she glanced at your wounds, nodding towards their mauri.
“you must heal before battle. no warrior should walk into war giving their enemies an advantage.” she held a hand over your shoulder. “come, i will soothe your injuries.”
“no, i’m fine, there are more important things to attend to.”
“my husband will tend to them for the time being.” she insisted. “let me at least lather some balm on those cuts.”
sophia stopped her mother. “i’ve got it, mother.”
the tsahik glanced between you, dismissing you with a slow nod. you hear sophia whisper a ‘come on’ before leading you away by your hand. you looked back at her mother, but she only shook her head with a knowing smile.
you weren’t sure how far you were walking, but you couldn’t hear the bustle of war preparations anymore.
“where are we?” the trees stretched taller, and the orange sunset faded into the dense leaves. the bioluminescence grew brighter with each acre you crossed. your fingers grazed the neural tendrils hanging from the spirit tree, you lips parted at the tickle they left on your fingertips. “this is… beautiful.”
“‘this’ is where eywa sees and talks to you.” sophia explained.
you grinned, spinning on your heel. you sighed, feeling the new responsibilities you’d taken on with the toruk makto title ease from your shoulders. “this is healing me in ways, for sure.”
“this is where i pray to eywa, where you see loved ones who aren’t here anymore.” she said, holding her kuru up. you mirrored her movement, letting the ends reach for the neural tendrils. “and this is where i will seek eywa’s guidance, her protection, before we step foot into the war.”
your eyes fluttered shut when you felt eywa’s force through the tsaheylu. you saw flashes of those you’ve lost on earth.
“please, great mother. i was sent here to learn your ways, but i also brought danger with me. i’m asking you to look into my memories and see the truth” you whispered, “i don’t know how to save them. please, if you hear me, protect this world, and the people when the sky people come. we need your hand.”
when you broke away, you felt baptized by eywa’s grace.
sophia stared, and that’s when you take a good look at her. her tail swayed, the new neckpiece you gifted her brought out her collarbone. you noticed she was wearing a new set of clothing; an intricate web of woven fibres some of the young women probably made. it was the first thing you noticed, how well it clung to her smooth skin, how her straight raven hair fell over her shoulder more loosely than it usually did. she had gotten herself cleaned up, painted in remnants of war and duty, you thanked eywa for blessing you with this woman.
“what have you come for, tsakarem?”
you stepped closer, eyes darting down to her glossy lips. your hand found her cheek, brushing pieces of hair from it.
“you said there were stories left unfinished. what are they?”
she smiled downwards, glancing up at you through her eyelashes. you weren’t sure where she was going with this, considering you noticed she had gotten her hair done for combat, changed, but lacking her gear. you had never seen her look so prepared for something, and it excited you.
your tail swung, despite your cool, collected composure.
“toruk makto is a tempting target hung over your back.” she said, turning around. a school of atokirina floated past, and she housed one between her hands. you don’t look away. “now you’ve become the most powerful woman in all na’vi clan, after the war… you’re bound to find a mate.”
you smirked softly. “it is one of the few things i hope to do.”
“we have many fine suitors.” she suggested, picking the twigs and weeds from the atokirina’s head. “marquise may be forward, but she is beautiful. she is homely. she inherits her mother’s rich cooking habits, you would never go hungry.”
you tilted your head, hoping to catch a glimpse of her expression. if she was nervous, or if had been plotting for this.
she felt your breath kiss her nape, and you inhaled the aromatic reminder of the tsahik’s herbal practices clinging to her hair. she kept the smile from breaking too wide, pressing her lips together before noises could escape her.
your voice dropped low, “but i don’t want marquise.”
she grinned to herself, collecting her satisfaction at hearing that. as the atokirina bobbed away from sophia’s grasp, her eyes fell upon yours, catching your amber eyes already staring intently. she glanced away, the flush to her cheeks fading into the low ambience of the vitraya ramunong (tree of souls). the place was truly magical, breathtaking beyond imagination, and yet, you couldn’t look away from the woman before you.
when she turned, your eyes trailed from her hooded ones, down the curve of her nose, to her parted, full lips. they glimmered under the dim glow of the tendrils above you.
compared to her, you were still. the soldier in you bleeding through the glittered blue stripes across your skin. you cocked your head aside, just how she liked, and worked your best gaze. you were really squeezing the last of what you could from that “human charm”, as carla called it.
“i have already chosen.” you murmured, holding her hand beside your bodies. the other dragged up her arm, fingertips tracing the flickering specks spelling out the night’s call. “but the woman i’ve chosen must choose me too.”
she couldn’t resist, her lips spreading as her gaze averted.
“ole ngati kameie (i see you).” you confessed softly, the phrase rolling off your tongue like it was made to say it. like you meant it. “i see you for who you are, ma’soph. and i love every bit of you with everything this heart is willing to give.”
your hand gloved hers over your chest, and she felt how fast your pulse raced. the toruk makto braving any weather to tame the most ruthless beast and putting her life on the felt.
and here you were now, heart racing to the rhythm of her every breath taken around you. like she was what you prayed for.
she cradled your cheek. you turned to kiss her palm, letting out a breathy hum into it. you don’t move your head back, staring up at her. her cheeks flushed a deeper shade, and her smile widened until her eyes curled into muted crescents.
“she has.” she reached back for her kuru, tugging it over her shoulder. you do the same. and just as the flailing ends of them touch, her free hand rested against the cut her father had made into your chest. “she already had.”
words couldn’t describe the euphoric fix mating with her, the woman who had made pandora home, before eywa.
you could try, but no word existing would do it justice.
you don’t remember who darted forward first, but just as swindling as the mating had been, the kiss was somehow better. her lips were just as plush, just as soft as they looked. but sophia kissed like a politician, selfish, and with a drive you could only assumed had been harbouring for longer than she had made it known. but you don’t mind. you let yourself get lost in her musk, in the feverish way she pushed herself into you. offering everything you’ve been praying to eywa for.
perhaps the great mother had been listening after all.
“i see you, ma’tsamsiyu (my warrior).” her pupils blown wide, she muttered with a lust-crazed glaze over her eyes.
your hands palmed her hips, feeling hers now let your hair loose. you tilted your head, beaming at her like no other living being could. your thumb pushed her head up just the slightest, peppering kissed from the corner of her lips, down her jaw, then to her neck. you craned your own just to latch your lips onto the cool skin there, fangs grazing her neck. just enough to make sure she remember you, but not enough to draw blood.
“wait, ma’tsamsiyu--!” she gasped, hands on your shoulders as you wrapped your arms around her torso.
you impatiently tugged at the band of her tkso, but a hand stopped yours before you could keep going.
you snapped back like it burnt you. “did i hurt you?”
she shook her head. “we are about to be at war. as much as i would love to be selfish just this once…” her finger traced the cut on your chest yet again. you don’t flinch at the sting, but you do hiss lightly, ears pining back on instinct. “my father must be waiting for your guidance. the people, they must be waiting for the toruk makto to lead them to victory.”
you sucked in a breath, biting your tongue. there’s nothing you wanted more than to just spend all the time you want in here with sophia. but she was right. this was your newfound duty.
“you’re right. there are much to do.” you held her hand, squeezing it in a different undertone now. “more to come.”
she nodded, returning the gesture. “more to come.”
࿇ 𝓪𝓷: if any of you bitches try and tell me ts wasn’t the best thing i’ve ever done written, i will come to your house and knife you because holy fuck this actually came out of me like jesus in bethlehem i swear on everything. lo’ak!megan or v’arang!lara better watch their back, they’re next…
p.s. ts was not proofread i was too excited so if there are any typos please forgive me!! happy reading. xx
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