So'lek was carrying supplies back toward the sanctuary.
Nothing unusual.
Just another peaceful afternoon.
His thoughts were already occupied with his mate. Which, admittedly, was becoming a recurring problem. As soon as he left her proximity his thoughts always drifted back to her even when he was helping her around the sanctuary.
He was halfway past her when—Smack.
The warrior spun around so fast he nearly dropped what he was carrying.
"Yawne!" The word escaped him in a shocked gasp. Absolute disbelief written across his face.
(Y/n) stood there. Trying and failing. To look innocent.
The snicker escaping her ruined any chance of that.
So'lek simply stared.
His mate.
His sweet.
Shy.
Easily flustered mate.
Had just smacked his backside.
On purpose.
The woman immediately bit her lip. Trying not to laugh.
The warrior could actually feel himself becoming flustered. His heart rate picked up as he felt a heat rush to his cheeks, he looked away before she could notice.
He had not been prepared for this.
At all. Not even slightly.
The look in her eyes confirmed it. She knew exactly what she'd done.
"So'lek?" she asked sweetly. Far too sweetly.
The warrior steadied his heat, narrowed his eyes and turned to face her.
"You did that deliberately." But there was a smirk pulling upwards from his lips.
The snickering intensified.
That was all the confirmation he needed.
Before she could escape, his arm shot out. Catching her around the waist.
The woman squeaked. Immediately realizing she may have miscalculated.
"Oh no."
The warrior pulled her against him.
Still looking mildly scandalized.
Because honestly—He was.
His mate was usually the one becoming flustered.
Not him.
This felt deeply unfair.
The woman was still laughing.
Which wasn't helping.
"You thought that was funny?"
The grin on her face was answer enough. The mischievous woman.
"Very funny."
"I see."
The warrior nodded slowly. Thoughtfully. As though considering something.
Then leaned down and kissed her.
Stealing every bit of laughter from her immediately.
When he pulled back, she was smiling. Entirely pleased with herself.
So'lek shook his head. Hopeless. Absolutely hopeless. "What has gotten into you?"
The woman shrugged. A terrible attempt at innocence.
"Two can play this game," he warned.
Before she could retreat, he caught her in another kiss.
The kind that immediately stole her next remark.
His arm shifted lower trailing down her waist, trailing down her skin until he found the smooth curve of her backside and pinched.
It earned a surprised squeak from her.
He grinned into the kiss.
Victory.
For approximately three seconds.
Then her arm moved, snaking around and grabbing his tightly.
And suddenly it was So'lek's turn to freeze. His heart rate immediately picked up.
The woman looked up at him. That look in her eyes was dangerous.
Too dangerous. For someone usually so shy.
"Yes," she said, a smirk tugging at her lips.
"They can."
The warrior stared at her. His mate. His sweet, shy, endlessly flustered mate.
Who apparently woke up this morning and chose chaos.
The realization left him completely caught off guard.
"Yawne." The warning came out far weaker than he intended.
Because she was laughing. At him.
And Eywa help him, seeing her this happy made it impossible to stay annoyed.
The woman rested her forehead against his chest.
Still grinning.
Still victorious.
Meanwhile So'lek was trying very hard to remember what he'd originally been doing before she had completely derailed his afternoon.
Unfortunately all he could think about was the fact that his mate had become entirely too bold.
A development he both appreciated and feared in equal measure.
So'lek kissed her again.
Mostly because his brain had stopped functioning properly.
The warrior had faced RDA gunships.
Amp suits.
Just about every dangerous thing someone could think of.
Things that should have terrified him.
None of them had prepared him for this.
For her.
For this version of her.
His normally shy mate was looking up at him with a mischievous smile. Entirely aware of the effect she was having.
And by Eywa, it was dangerous.
When the kiss ended, he rested his forehead briefly against hers.
Trying to regain some semblance of composure.
And failing
Spectacularly.
Because she was still standing there looking pleased with herself.
And to make things even worse for him her grip tightened. His breath hitched and she let out a burst of laughter.
His heart was pounding.
His thoughts a complete mess.
And the worst part?
She wasn't even trying very hard.
She was simply being playful. Flirtatious.
So'lek laughed softly. Shaking his head.
"You are incredible."
The woman immediately smiled.
The warrior narrowed his eyes.
Because she knew. She absolutely knew what she had done to him.
And that was a dangerous amount of power for one woman to possess.
Especially this woman.
The one he'd never expected to be bold enough to start a flirtation like this.
Years ago?
Impossible.
Even months ago?
Unthinkable.
Now?
Now she was standing in front of him looking entirely too proud of herself.
And he found that he loved it.
The warrior sighed dramatically.
The kind of sigh that suggested he was suffering greatly. "I was supposed to be the intimidating one."
The woman burst out laughing.
And somehow that only made him smile more.
Yes this woman was dangerous, perhaps even more dangerous than the entire rda because what she did to him was nearly heart stopping
And he wouldn't have it any other way... even if his knees felt like they were going to give out underneath him from shock.
So'lek x fem!avatar driver reader inspired by Tsumuke written by @lvlypinkesworld
Part 15 > Part 15.5 > Part 16
With Great Love Comes Great Fear Part 2.
When (Y/n) opened her eyes in the sanctuary, she was immediately greeted by the smell of tea and laughter.
The kind that only came from people completely comfortable with where they were.
She blinked.
Then followed the sound.
A fire had been built near the center of the sanctuary.
Around it sat the Sarentu. Ri'nela. Teylan. Nor. And Tamtey.
Tea cups rested in their hands.
Ulrr was sprawled across Teylan's lap upside down demanding attention.
One of the viperwolf pups had stolen Nor's cup and was attempting to investigate its contents.
The other two were wrestling nearby.
"I see you've all made yourselves at home."
Four heads turned immediately.
(Y/n) couldn't help smiling.
She crossed the clearing and settled down beside them, dropping into the space between Ri'nela and Teylan.
The fire crackled softly.
Ri'nela reached over and squeezed her arm. "We were worried."
(Y/n)'s smile softened. "I'm alright."
"Alma hit you."
The blunt statement made Teylan frown.
Nor's expression darkened.
Tamtey looked confused. "Wait." He looked between them. "Alma did what?"
Right. Tamtey had been hunting RDA patrols when everything happened.
The silence that followed felt dangerous.
The Sarentu warrior slowly looked toward (Y/n). "Alma struck you?"
(Y/n) immediately knew she was in trouble. Not because of Alma. Because everyone suddenly looked offended on her behalf.
"It was handled."
Tamtey looked unconvinced.
"How handled?"
(Y/n) opened her mouth. “So’lek—" Then immediately shut it.
Because at that exact moment—Two massive blue arms appeared around her waist.
Pulling her backwards. Effortlessly. A familiar chest against her back.
A familiar warmth. A familiar presence.
The devil himself.
(Y/n) laughed. Unable to help it. "Speak of the devil and he shall appear."
So'lek settled behind her. As though appearing from the shadows and collecting her was perfectly normal behavior. Which, unfortunately, it was becoming.
Tamtey immediately handed him a cup of tea.
"Thank you." The warrior accepted it. Then immediately settled one arm around (Y/n)'s waist.
Tamtey pointed at him. "What happened? I don’t think you’d let Alma just strike (y/n) and let her get away with it."
The entire group looked toward him.
So'lek took a slow sip of tea.
Then answered.
"I didn’t."
"I informed Alma that touching her again would be a mistake."
Tamtey raised an eyebrow. "You informed her?"
(Y/n) immediately hid a smile behind her tea.
Because they all knew that So'lek had been one bad decision away from throwing Alma through a wall.
Tamtey shook his head. Then looked at (Y/n). "You know."
"Oh no."
He pointed at So'lek. "He likes you." Everyone knew that, Tamtey just enjoyed teasing (y/n).
The entire group burst out laughing. Including Nor.
(Y/n) buried her face in her hands.
So'lek looked completely unbothered, the warrior simply sipped his tea. One arm still around her. As though being hopelessly obvious wasn't something he cared about in the slightest.
And judging by the amused looks around the fire— Nobody was buying the act for even a second.
(Y/n) turned her head to catch him staring at her, she leaned back against So'lek's chest.
The warrior's arm remained around her waist while she drank her tea. His presence had become so familiar that she barely thought about it anymore. Which was probably dangerous.
Because every now and then she would remember she was currently sitting in the lap of a ten-foot-tall warrior and immediately become embarrassed all over again.
Ri'nela took another sip of tea. Eyes lighting up.
"You quite enjoy my blends, don't you Ri'nela?" (y/n) asked, trying to change the subject.
The Sarentu nodded immediately. "Yes."
"I wish to try all of them."
(Y/n) laughed softly. "There are a lot."
"Good."
"I have been making them for fifteen years."
"Excellent."
Tamtey took a drink from his own cup. Then remembered something. "What kind of tea did you give Itu?"
"A spicy one."
"A spicy tea?"
"Yes."
"Will that help?"
(Y/n) nodded. "Spicy foods and drinks have been known to help with grief."
"Not because they remove it." She turned her cup slowly in her hands. "But because they force your mind to focus on something else for a little while."
Tamtey nodded thoughtfully.
"Once the heat dies down though..." A faint smile appeared. "That blend is incredibly calming."
"I am suddenly worried for Itu."
Ri'nela giggled.
"He will survive."
"Probably."
That earned another round of laughter.
Then Tamtey remembered something else. "Oh."
(Y/n)'s eyes widened.
Tamtey pointed at her. "Did you finish making the—"
She shot him a look.
A very specific look.
The kind that said Do not finish that sentence.
Or else.
Tamtey immediately closed his mouth.
Ri'nela looked between them suspiciously.
Nor raised an eyebrow.
Teylan looked curious.
Unfortunately—So'lek noticed.
The warrior looked down at her. "What were you making?"
The question was innocent. The answer was not.
(Y/n) instantly became interested in her tea. Very interested.
"I did not know you paid a visit to the Aranahe yesterday." So’lek inquired.
Traitorous heart. Why was it suddenly beating faster?
"Oh." She cleared her throat. "You know."
Nobody knew.
"Just checking on Etuwa's stitches."
True.
"Having tea with Nefika."
Also true. Technically.
The warrior looked unconvinced. "You should have called me."
(Y/n) groaned internally.
"So you would not have walked the entire way on your own."
"I am perfectly capable."
So'lek sighed. "You are."
"But."
(Y/n) closed her eyes.
The others were trying not to laugh. Failing. Badly.
"So'lek."
"It was a long walk."
"I have legs."
"I am aware."
"I use them frequently."
"I am aware."
"They work."
The warrior nodded. "They do."
She pointed triumphantly.
"See?"
The giant warrior remained completely serious. "I still would have flown you."
The entire group burst out laughing.
(Y/n) buried her face in her hands.
Again. This was becoming a recurring problem.
Beside her, So'lek looked entirely unbothered.
In fact, there was the faintest hint of amusement in his eyes.
The terrible man.
"You are impossible."
The accusation came from behind her hands.
The warrior's smile softened.
And judging by the way his arm tightened slightly around her waist—He was quite content remaining impossible.
So'lek smirked.
The expression immediately put everyone on alert. Particularly the Sarentu.
Because the warrior rarely looked that pleased with himself.
Then he leaned down. And kissed her cheek.
Slowly.
The sound that escaped (Y/n) was somewhere between a squeak and a gasp.
The entire tea circle erupted into laughter.
"SO'LEK." She scolded.
The warrior looked entirely unapologetic.
In fact—He looked amused.
Then, as though embarrassing her once wasn't enough, he rested his forehead briefly against the side of hers.
His cheek brushing against her own.
The gesture strangely affectionate.
The sort of thing that suggested he'd been wanting to do it for a while.
(Y/n) was quite certain her soul was attempting to leave her body.
The warrior's voice rumbled softly beside her ear. "Impossible, you say?"
The amusement in his tone only made it worse.
"Yes." Her answer came from behind both hands now. Because if she looked at him she would absolutely die.
The warrior chuckled. The sound vibrating through his chest. "And yet you continue to spend time with me."
The tea circle had become utterly useless. Nobody was helping. Not one person.
Ri'nela was smiling into her cup.
Tamtey looked moments away from falling over laughing.
Teylan had given up pretending not to listen.
Even Nor looked amused.
Traitors.
Every single one of them.
(Y/n) peeked through her fingers.
Just enough to turn and glare at the warrior.
The attempt failed immediately.
Because So'lek looked entirely too pleased. His golden eyes softened the moment they met hers. And suddenly the teasing disappeared.
Leaving behind something warmer.
Affection. Pure and uncomplicated.
The kind that made her chest flutter every time he looked at her like that.
"There you are."
"What?"
"The woman beneath all the blushing."
"I hate you."
The words carried absolutely no conviction.
So'lek's smile widened. "No." His arm tightened slightly around her waist. "You do not."
The certainty made her blush harder.
Which only confirmed his point.
The terrible man knew it too.
Tamtey groaned dramatically. "Please."
"Either kiss properly or stop looking at each other like that."
(Y/n) immediately buried her face in her hands again.
While So'lek laughed outright. A deep genuine laugh that rolled through the sanctuary.
"I think that is our cue to leave." Ri'nela stood, still smiling into her tea.
The Sarentu had clearly decided they had witnessed enough embarrassing affection for one morning.
Tamtey immediately rose as well. "A wise decision."
Teylan nodded. "Extremely wise."
Nor looked relieved.
"Wait." The single word froze them all.
(Y/n) sat upright. Immediately catching everyone's attention. "I could actually use your help."
Nor's shoulders slumped.
(Y/n) stood.
The moment she left his lap, So'lek remained perfectly composed.
Not a single expression crossed his face.
Not one.
Except for the very brief look of disappointment that lasted approximately half a second before vanishing.
Nobody commented. Because they enjoyed being alive.
"These three monsters need to learn tracking and hunting."
Immediately all three pups perked up. As though they somehow knew they were being discussed.
One barked. Another tripped over a root. The third attempted to bite Teylan's tail.
"And?" Nor asked suspiciously.
(Y/n) smiled. The kind of smile that usually preceded chaos. "I am going to need a hand."
Nor immediately began backing away. "No."
She ignored him.
Turning instead toward So'lek. "Could you get me another small hexepede please?"
The warrior nodded. "I can."
Then she looked toward Tamtey. "Could you actually go get my thing from Nefika?"
The Tamtey raised an eyebrow with a smirk. "The thing you definitely are not making for a certain warrior?"
(Y/n) gave him a look.
Tamtey grinned. "I can."
So’lek rose smoothly to his feet. Before leaving, he leaned down. And kissed her cheek.
Again.
The terrible man.
"I will see you later, yawne."
The blush returned instantly. Like it had never left. "You too."
Nor made a gagging noise. "You two are sickening."
Ri'nela smacked his arm.
Hard.
"Ow!"
"Be nice."
"They make me want to throw myself off a cliff."
"Nor." He immediately shut up.
(Y/n) pretended she wasn't blushing.
Then she turned. Slowly. Toward Nor.
The smile returned. The dangerous smile. The one that always preceded terrible ideas.
Nor immediately pointed. "No."
"I did not even say anything."
"I know that smile."
The others stepped away. Experience had taught them caution.
(Y/n) crossed toward the cool storage area beside one of the shelters. Returning moments later with a large chunk of meat.
Nor stared. "Why do you have that?"
(Y/n) ignored him. Instead producing a rope.
"Oh no."
The smile widened. "Oh yes."
Nor immediately attempted to leave.
Ri’nela caught him.
"Wait."
"No."
"You are helping."
"No."
"Yes."
Before he could escape (y/n) then looped the rope around his waist. Then tied the meat securely behind him.
The pups lost their minds. Three sets of eyes immediately locked onto the prize. Tails wagging furiously. Little growls emerging. Predatory instincts awakening.
Unfortunately for Nor.
They were awakening in his direction.
"I didn't agree to this."
"Too late."
The pups crouched. Ready. Watching. Waiting.
"Oh Eywa." Nor looked toward Ri'nela. "Help."
"No."
"Teylan?" The younger Sarentu immediately took several steps backward.
Traitors. Every single one.
(Y/n) pointed dramatically toward the forest. Then dropped the rope. "Run."
Nor took off at full speed.
The pups exploded after him.
Three tiny furry missiles. Yipping. Barking. Howling.
The chase tore through the sanctuary. Nor vaulted over a log.
One pup followed. The second crashed directly into it. The third got distracted by a leaf.
(Y/n) laughed so hard she nearly doubled over.
The sanctuary echoed with the sounds of pursuit.
"THIS IS NOT HOW TRACKING WORKS!"
"KEEP RUNNING!"
"YOU ARE ENJOYING THIS TOO MUCH!"
"PROBABLY!"
The pups barked excitedly.Convinced they were participating in the greatest hunt in history.
"Come on."
(Y/n) was still laughing as she started after the chaos disappearing through the trees.
Ri'nela smiled and followed.
Teylan shaking his head as he trailed after them.
"I cannot believe that worked."
"It worked perfectly."
"It was barely a plan."
"It was an excellent plan."
The younger Sarentu looked unconvinced.
Ahead of them they could hear Nor shouting.
The pups barking.
Branches rustling.
And occasionally something that sounded suspiciously like Nor tripping over something.
The group eventually caught up just in time to see Nor attempt to outmaneuver them.
He doubled back. Cut through a cluster of roots. Leapt over a fallen log. Then darted between two trees.
The pups immediately lost the trail. For approximately three seconds.
Then one found the scent again.
A triumphant bark echoed through the forest.
The pups surged forward. Tails wagging furiously.
Their excitement clearly outweighing their skill.
“Make it harder for them Nor!” she called out.
Nor groaned. "You are encouraging them!"
"That is the point. Keep moving."
He rolled his eyes. But he did. Taking a less obvious path. Trying to lose them.
Trying to force them to think.
Which, admittedly, they were beginning to do. One pup followed the scent. Another began looking for disturbed plants.
The third was still mostly guessing.
But at least it was an educated guess now.
"Don't make it easy on them, Nor."
The hunter glanced over his shoulder. "I hate that you are all enjoying this."
(Y/n) grinned. "Try and encourage them to outthink you."
"They are pups."
"They are clever pups."
Nor sighed
Then immediately regretted it. Because at that exact moment one of the pups launched itself at the dangling meat.
The others followed. All three at once. The combined assault proved effective.
Nor's feet left the ground.
Then he hit the forest floor.
The meat vanished beneath a pile of triumphant viperwolf puppies.
The forest went silent.
Then—The pups abandoned the meat entirely. And began enthusiastically licking Nor's face.
The hunter stared at the sky.
Defeated.
"No dignity."
The pups disagreed. The licking intensified.
Ri'nela burst out laughing.
Teylan nearly doubled over.
Even (Y/n) was laughing hard enough that she had to hold onto a tree.
Eventually the pups remembered the meat existed.
The trio immediately abandoned Nor. Returning to their prize.
Nor remained sprawled on the ground. Questioning his life choices.
"That was fun to watch." Teylan wiped tears from his eyes.
Ri'nela crossed over and offered Nor a hand.
He accepted it with exaggerated suffering. "You are all terrible people."
"Thank you."
"That was not a compliment."
(Y/n) looked entirely too pleased with herself.
Nor brushed leaves from his clothes. "Was that really necessary, (Y/n)?"
The woman looked toward the pups. One was dragging the meat away. Another was trying to steal it. The third was attempting to mediate.
Poorly.
Then she looked back at Nor.
"Yes."
Nor stared.
Ri'nela and Teylan laughed.
The pups barked happily.
And somehow, seeing the satisfied look on (Y/n)'s face as she watched her little predators learn to hunt, Nor suspected she would absolutely do it again if given the opportunity.
Which was deeply concerning for everyone involved.
"Good."
(Y/n) smiled proudly as she watched the pups tear into their reward.
The peaceful moment lasted all of ten seconds.
A shadow passed overhead.
Everyone instinctively looked up.
At first nobody understood what they were seeing.
A massive shape descended from the clouds.
Wings spread wide. A flash of blue and silver.
A powerful gust of wind blasted through the clearing. Leaves exploded into the air.
The pups scattered.
Ulrr screamed and launched himself into a tree.
And before anyone could react—A pair of enormous talons closed around (Y/n).
The woman vanished from the ground.
Her scream echoed across the forest.
The Stormglider beat its wings. Once. Twice. Then shot upward.
Taking (Y/n) with it.
"(Y/N)!" Ri'nela's scream echoed through the trees.
Nor's eyes widened. "What the—"
Teylan looked horrified. "A STORMGLIDER HAS HER!"
The creature was already high above them. Far too high. Far too fast.
The giant predator climbed effortlessly into the sky.
(Y/n)'s scream continued.
Another beat of its wings. The Stormglider climbed higher.
Nor stared upward in disbelief. "It is taking her!"
Ri'nela looked moments away from having a heart attack. "We have to help her!"
"How?!"
The Stormglider was already becoming smaller against the clouds.
The three Sarentu immediately started running after it anyway.
Above them— (Y/n) was clutching one of the Stormglider's talons.
Absolutely miserable.
The creature chirped happily. Recognizing her. Pleased to see her.
(Y/n) knew exactly who it was.
The giant menace.
The same Stormglider she'd raised since it was a baby.
Unfortunately.
Knowing the Stormglider wasn't going to eat her did absolutely nothing for her fear of heights.
She squeezed her eyes shut. "THIS IS NOT FUNNY!"
The Stormglider made a pleased sound.
Clearly disagreeing.
Below.
Ri'nela was still running.
Nor beside her.
Teylan not far behind.
All three convinced they had just watched one of their closest friends get carried away to become lunch.
"DO SOMETHING!"
"I AM TRYING!"
"TRY HARDER!"
Above them.
(Y/n) considered every decision that had led her to this moment.
Every single one.
And regretted all of them.
So'lek was halfway through tracking the small hexepede.
The animal had left a trail through the undergrowth.
Easy enough to follow.
He had almost caught sight of it when his com crackled.
"Ri'nela?"
The young Sarentu sounded breathless. Panicked. Terrified.
Immediately his stomach dropped.
Because Ri'nela did not panic. Not like this.
"So'lek!"
The fear in her voice sent ice through his veins.
"What happened?"
There was a moment of static.
"A Stormglider just took (Y/n) and is flying northeast!"
Everything stopped. For one horrible heartbeat he simply stood there.
The words refusing to make sense.
Then fear hit him.
His blood ran cold.
A Stormglider. The largest aerial predator on this side of Pandora.
And it had taken her.
The warrior abandoned the hunt immediately.
His heart hammered painfully against his ribs.
He called for hus ikran
A moment later the ikran burst from the trees. Landing hard.
So'lek was already moving. Already mounting. Already airborne before Iley had fully stabilized.
The ikran sensed his fear. His urgency. And responded instantly.
Wings beating hard. Climbing rapidly.
Ri'nela's voice returned.
"Tamtey should be right behind you."
So'lek barely heard her. His eyes were already scanning the horizon. Searching. Looking for any sign. Any clue. Anything.
The com crackled again.
A different voice.
Alex.
"So'lek."
"What." The single word came out like a growl.
"We've been monitoring Stormglider activity. Near the floating mountains."
So'lek's grip tightened.
"Where?"
"Near Toruk Point."
The answer felt like a knife.
Because it made sense. A nesting area. A hunting territory.
The sort of place a Stormglider would take prey.
His chest tightened painfully.
"That's where we think it's taking her."
The words nearly stopped his heart.
The warrior pushed Iley faster. The ikran screeched. Wings beating furiously. Clouds rushed past.
The floating mountains appeared in the distance.
The thought of being torn to pieces threatened to overwhelm him.
He crushed it immediately.
No.
Panic later.
Find her first.
A familiar cry echoed nearby. Moments later another ikran appeared. Tamtey.
He quickly matching pace beside him.
The Sarentu's face was grim.
Gone was the usual teasing. Gone was the laughter.
This was family.
And family was in danger.
"You heard?" So'lek asked.
Tamtey nodded. "Ri'nela called."
"We'll find her."
The certainty helped. Only a little.
The warrior's eyes never stopped searching.
Scanning every cloud. Every mountain. Every shadow.
Looking for one small figure.
The woman he loved.
And for perhaps the first time in years—So'lek was afraid. Truly afraid.
Because he could fight soldiers. He could fight AMP suits. He could fight the RDA.
But right now?
He was racing against the sky itself.
Praying to Eywa that they were not already too late.
In the distance they spotted it.
The Stormglider descended.
Its enormous wings cut through the air before folding against its body as it landed atop one of the floating mountains.
"There!" Tamtey pointed.
So'lek's heart nearly stopped.
Because from this angle—It looked like the creature had something blue hanging from its jaws.
Something small. Something limp.
For one terrible moment his mind supplied the worst possible explanation.
His blood turned to ice.
Iley surged forward.
The warrior's entire focus narrowing onto that distant shape. Every horrible thought imaginable flashed through his mind. The fear was so intense it physically hurt.
Beside him, Tamtey had gone silent.He looked just as horrified.
The two ikran circled.
Coming around the mountain. Trying to get a better angle.
Tto see.
Then—So'lek blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Certain he had imagined it.
Because what he was seeing made absolutely no sense.
The Stormglider wasn't eating her. It wasn't tearing her apart. It wasn't even hurting her.
The enormous predator was—Nuzzling her.
Its massive head rubbed against her shoulder. Purring. Actually purring.
And (Y/n)...
(Y/n) was holding its face.
Both arms wrapped around its snout. Completely unharmed. Completely unconcerned.
The warrior stared.
Tamtey stared.
Neither spoke. Neither seemed capable of speech.
They landed carefully a short distance away.
Approaching slowly.
The Stormglider immediately noticed them. Its head snapped up.
A warning hiss echoed across the mountain. The sound was powerful enough to shake loose stones.
Tamtey froze.
"Enough." (Y/n)'s voice scolded. Gentle. Patient.
The same voice she used on frightened animals.
Immediately the Stormglider relaxed. The predator leaned back into her hand.
Nudging her affectionately. Like an oversized child seeking attention.
So'lek stood there. Still trying to recover from nearly dying of fear. Still trying to process what he was looking at. Still trying to lower the panic racing through his veins.
"(Y/n)?"
The woman looked up. "Oh." She smiled sheepishly.
The sight alone made his knees weak.
Because she was alive. Not injured.
The warrior closed his eyes briefly.
Thank Eywa.
When he opened them again, the Stormglider was pressing its face against her shoulder.
Demanding attention.
"This is Caesar."
The introduction somehow made the situation even more absurd.
Tamtey looked between the giant predator and the woman petting it. "This creature has a name?"
"Of course he has a name."
The Stormglider chirped proudly.
(Y/n) scratched beneath its jaw. "I hand reared him after the RDA destroyed his nest a few years ago."
The explanation came so casually. As though hand-raising one of Pandora's most terrifying aerial predators was completely normal. "He was very small."
Tamtey looked at the creature. The creature looked back. "That?"
"Yes."
"Small?"
"Very."
The Stormglider nudged her again. Demanding more attention.
(Y/n) laughed. "Stormgliders are very familial creatures."
She rubbed the side of its face. "He missed his mama."
The giant predator immediately leaned harder into her. Almost knocking her over. "And apparently decided to give her the scare of her life."
"Yes." So'lek's answer came flatly. Dangerously flat. The warrior was still recovering. Still processing the fact he'd spent the last twenty minutes imagining her being eaten.
(Y/n) winced slightly. "Sorry."
The Stormglider made a happy sound. Completely unrepentant.
"Who's my silly big baby?"
The predator chirped. Pleased.
"You are."
Another affectionate nudge.
Tamtey looked awestruck. "I cannot believe this."
He slowly approached. Carefully.
The Stormglider immediately hissed.
Tamtey retreated. "I believe it now."
Meanwhile So'lek stood motionless. Still coming down from the fear. The adrenaline. The absolute terror.
(Y/n) finally noticed. The way his shoulders were rigid. The way his hands were clenched. The way his eyes had not left her since landing.
The warrior looked exhausted.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
Because for a little while there—He had believed he was losing her. And that realization struck her straight in the heart.
Slowly she stepped away from Caesar.
Crossing the distance between them.
The warrior didn't move. Didn't speak. Then she wrapped her arms around him. "I'm sorry."
For a moment So'lek simply held her. Holding on perhaps a little tighter than usual. Relieved. Overwhelmed. Grateful.
Behind them, Caesar made an offended noise.
Clearly unhappy his mother was paying attention to someone else.
Tamtey laughed.
The Stormglider hissed at him.
And somewhere between the terror, the relief, and the absurdity of the situation, So'lek finally let out a long breath.
The kind that came after surviving a nightmare.
Because his yawne was safe. And that was all that mattered.
She stepped back from him and turned back towards Caesar, “I’m sorry you big baby,” and she threw her arms around him again and the storm glider seemed to relish in her touch.
So'lek stood quietly for a moment. Watching.
The Stormglider was resting its enormous head in (Y/n)’s arms.
Its eyes half closed.
The giant predator looked almost tame.
Almost.
Only because she was beside it.
Because the moment anyone else moved too quickly, Caesar's eyes opened immediately. Watching. Evaluating. Protective.
So'lek found himself smiling faintly.
Because somehow— Somehow this woman had done it again.
Another creature.
One that should have feared her. Or ignored her. Or flown away.
Yet here it was looking at her with the same affection Ulrr did.
The same affection the pups did. The same affection every creature she cared for seemed to develop.
The warrior's gaze softened.
She was gentle with all of them. Patient. Kind.
And somehow they always seemed to know it.
Even the fiercest among them adored her.
"Come."
(Y/n) looked over at him.Motioning him closer.
The warrior obeyed.Still slightly suspicious of the enormous predator.
"Caesar." The Stormglider's head immediately lifted. Attention focused entirely on her. "This is So'lek."
The predator blinked. Watching him.
"He's very important to me."
Something warm settled in So'lek's chest.
"So be nice."
Tamtey immediately smothered a laugh.
The warrior ignored him. Mostly.
Caesar tilted his head.
Then to So'lek's surprise, the Stormglider shuffled forward.
The enormous head lowering.
The giant predator nudged him. Gently. Almost curiously.
So'lek blinked.
The Stormglider blinked back.
(Y/n) smiled. "He likes scratches."
The warrior raised an eyebrow. "You are serious."
"Very."
Cautiously. Slowly. So'lek reached out. His hand settling against the side of Caesar's jaw.
The Stormglider immediately leaned into it.
A deep rumbling sound echoed through his chest. Content. Happy.
The giant predator practically melted.
The sight made (Y/n) laugh. "There you go."
The warrior found himself scratching beneath the jaw. The exact spot she indicated. The rumbling immediately intensified.
So'lek looked mildly offended. "He likes me."
"You’re very likable."
The warrior gave her a look.
(Y/n) immediately pretended innocence.
Behind them Tamtey called out. "I want to pet him."
He sounded like an excited child.
(Y/n) laughed. "Come on over, Tamtey."
The Sarentu approached cautiously. Very cautiously.
The Stormglider watched. Evaluated.
Then apparently decided Tamtey was acceptable.
The hunter reached out.
Touched the stormgliders neck.
Immediately grinned. "By Eywa." Another scratch.
The Stormglider chirped.
Tamtey looked delighted. "He is soft."
"He is not soft."
"He is."
The Stormglider practically purred. "He is soft."
(Y/n) laughed again. The sound carrying across the floating mountain. Bright. Happy.
The kind of laugh So'lek loved hearing.
The warrior found himself watching her once more. The way she smiled. The way she spoke to Caesar.
The way she looked completely at ease sitting beside one of Pandora's most fearsome predators.
The way the predator trusted her without question.
It should not have surprised him anymore. Yet somehow it still did. Every time.
The warrior shook his head softly. A smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. "You really are extraordinary."
(Y/n) immediately flushed.
The woman still hadn't learned how to accept compliments.
"Oh no it’s not all that."
"Yes."
"I hand-fed him bugs and fish."
"You raised a Stormglider."
"He was very small."
Tamtey laughed. "That does not make it less impressive."
Meanwhile So'lek simply watched. The warmth in his chest growing. Because she truly believed any of this was ordinary.
The sanctuary. The animals. The Stormglider. The lives she'd saved. The people she'd helped.
The love she gave so freely.
To her, it was simply her normal, a part of who she was.
To So'lek—It was one more reason he loved her.
And as Caesar nudged her shoulder demanding attention again, the warrior found himself smiling.
Because even Eywa's fiercest creatures seemed determined to prove his point.
(Y/n) smiled up at Caesar. "How is Athena?"
Tamtey blinked. "Athena?"
"His mate."
"The Stormglider has a mate?"
Tamtey looked at Caesar.
Then at (Y/n).
Then back at Caesar.
The giant predator chirped proudly. As if pleased somebody had finally acknowledged this fact.
A distant call suddenly echoed across the floating mountains. Deep. Powerful. Beautiful.
Everyone looked toward the sound.
On a nearby floating island stood another Stormglider. Slightly smaller than Caesar. Elegant. Graceful.
Behind her rested a nest woven between the rocky outcroppings.
And inside— Movement. Small shapes. Tiny wings. Tiny heads.
Stormglider hatchlings.
Tamtey's jaw dropped. "No."
(Y/n)'s eyes lit up immediately. "Oh my goodness."
Caesar made an excited sound. The equivalent of a child bouncing on their toes.
She looked at him. Then toward the nest. Then back at him.
Realization dawned. "Is this what you brought me up here for?"
The Stormglider chirped loudly. His tail flicking. Pleased with himself.
"So I can see your pretty missus and babies?"
Another happy sound. Almost smug.
Tamtey looked astonished. "He kidnapped you."
"He did. To introduce you to his family."
(Y/n) laughed. The sound bright and warm. She reached up and cupped Caesar's face.
The giant predator immediately leaned into her touch. "You did all this just to show me?"
A proud chirp. "Oh Caesar."
Her voice softened. Filled with affection. "I am so proud of you."
The Stormglider practically glowed beneath the praise. Then immediately ruined the moment by gently nipping at her shoulder.
(Y/n) laughed again. "I know what that means."
She reached into one of her pockets. Producing a strip of dried meat.
Caesar's eyes immediately locked onto it.
The giant predator suddenly looking very interested. "Nothing like a treat, huh?"
The meat vanished in one bite.
Tamtey snorted.
The Stormglider made another pleased sound.
Then nudged her again. Hoping for another treat.
Greedy creature.
(Y/n) shook her head. "No."
Another nudge.
"No."
A larger nudge.
The equivalent of being hit by a small vehicle.
So'lek silently caught her before she toppled over.
Caesar looked entirely unrepentant. The giant menace.
(Y/n) smiled.
Then wrapped both arms around the front of his neck.
Hugging him.
The Stormglider immediately stilled. Accepting it. Enjoying it.
The sight left Tamtey in complete awe.
"You should go back to your family."
Caesar's gaze shifted toward the nest. Then back to her. Reluctant. Almost.
"You do not need to worry." She rubbed the side of his face.
The Stormglider's attention remained fixed on the two males. "They are my family."
The words made So'lek's chest tighten. Warmth spreading through him.
(Y/n) smiled. "I'm not lonely as I once was."
The Stormglider made a quieter sound. Almost thoughtful. Almost relieved. As though that had been what he needed to hear.
The confirmation.
That she was safe. That she had people who cared for her now.
The same way she had cared for him.
"Go home to yours." She kissed the side of his jaw. "You know where to find me."
For a long moment Caesar remained where he was.
Looking at her.
Memorizing.
Then finally— The Stormglider threw back his head and roared. The sound rolled across the floating mountains. Powerful.
A farewell.
Then his wings spread. Massive. Magnificent.
The gust nearly knocked Tamtey over.
With a powerful leap Caesar launched himself into the air. Wings catching the wind. The giant predator soaring toward the neighboring island. Toward Athena. Toward the nest. Toward his family.
The female Stormglider called out. A greeting. Caesar answered immediately. The pair touched heads. The hatchlings bouncing excitedly around them.
(Y/n) watched with a soft smile.
Beside her, So'lek found himself watching her instead. The woman who had raised a Stormglider. The woman who had taught it kindness.
The woman who somehow left pieces of her heart everywhere she went.
And judging by the way Caesar kept glancing back at her even after reaching the nest— The Stormglider still carried a piece of it too.
The moment Caesar disappeared across the gap toward his mate and hatchlings, So'lek stepped forward.
Then pulled her into his arms.
(Y/n) immediately wrapped her arms around him in return.Resting her forehead against his chest.
The warrior lowered his head, breathing in slowly. Trying to finally calm the fear that had gripped him ever since Ri'nela's call. "When Ri'nela said you had been taken..."
His voice was quieter than usual.
"It scared the life out of me."
The admission made her heart ache. (Y/n)'s arms tightened around him. "Sorry."
She looked up at him. "I couldn't respond."
The memory immediately made her grimace. "His claws grabbed me at an awkward angle."
She demonstrated with one hand. "There was no way I could reach my com."
So'lek sighed. Not angry. Just relieved.
Relieved she was standing here explaining it. Relieved she wasn't hurt.
Nearby, Tamtey awkwardly cleared his throat. "I am going to head back."
Neither of them looked away from each other.
He rolled his eyes. Hopeless. Both of them.
"I'll drop off whatever Nefika sent at the sanctuary."
"Thank you, Tamtey."
"Try not to get kidnapped by anything else."
"I'll do my best."
The Sarentu laughed. Then mounted his ikran and departed.
Within moments he was gone.
Neither of them had truly noticed. Too occupied with one another.
(Y/n) rested her cheek against So'lek's chest again. "I'm okay."
The warrior's hand settled against the back of her head. "I know."
"I promise I'm okay."
"Just..." She looked over the edge of the floating mountain. Immediately regretted it. The ground was so far away it might as well have been another world.
Her stomach flipped violently.
She turned straight back into So'lek. "Just a little shaken up about how high we are right now."
His shoulders shook with laughter.
"Do not laugh."
"You befriend a Stormglider."
"Yes."
"You are unafraid of one of Pandora's greatest predators."
"Correct."
"But heights terrify you."
"They absolutely do."
The warrior chuckled again.
(Y/n) narrowed her eyes. "Do not let go of me."
"I was not planning to."
The warmth that spread through her chest made her smile.
After a few moments So'lek glanced toward the distant nest.
Watching Caesar settle beside Athena and their hatchlings.
A thoughtful expression crossed his face. "Are all your former wards like that?"
(Y/n) laughed softly. "The grown-up babies are."
The warrior looked amused. "The grown-up babies?"
"Yes."
She nodded seriously. "They occasionally come back and visit."
"Or in Caesar's case." She pointed toward the nest. "Kidnap me."
The warrior sighed. A very long suffering sigh. "You will have to warn me of such occasions, yawne."
"I did not know he was planning it."
"You scared me."
(Y/n) reached up and kissed him. Softly.Tenderly.
The warrior immediately melted.
Every remaining tension leaving his shoulders.
"I apologize."
Another kiss.
"I did not mean to."
His forehead rested against hers.
"I know."
The warrior lingered there for a moment. Then finally pulled back. "Come."
(Y/n) immediately became suspicious. "What?"
"Let us get you home."
The color drained from her face instantly.
So'lek watched the transformation happen in real time.
Her eyes widened. Her posture stiffened. Every ounce of confidence evaporated.
"No."
"Yawne."
"No."
"We cannot stay on this mountain forever."
"We can try."
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
Unfortunately for her, he was already reaching for his ikran.
(Y/n) stared at Iley.
Iley stared back.
Completely innocent.
"So'lek."
"Yes?"
"Carry me because my brain just realised that there is 1000’s of feet under me and I can’t move.”
The warrior laughed. The sound echoing across the floating mountains.
"You are serious."
"I am very serious."
He scooped her up "Unfortunately, yawne."
His eyes gleamed with amusement. "The only way down from here..."
(Y/n) already knew where this was going.
And hated it.
"...is to fly."
The horrified expression on her face nearly sent him into another fit of laughter.
the early sun filtered through the window, warming up her skin and stiring her awake.
she felt the warmth grazing her face, letting out a tired groan and turning away from the rays of light.
it felt too early, too early to be awake right now.
her body relaxes back into the bed, her subconscious ready to slip back into sleep once more.
“…firefly?” she heard mychael’s voice whisper, hand gently reaching up to rub her arm underneath the blanket.
she didn’t respond, hoping that he’d take the hint and let her sleep a little longer before she becomes fully awake.
she had been spending a lot more time in mychael’s cabin, going over ever weekend to relax with him and get away from the stress of the week following up to them.
he had been more than happy to have her over more, the time spent together was filled with knitting, cooking, cuddling, and walking through the woods.
mychael learned a lot about his firefly from their time shared, what foods she liked, stories of her childhood, what her favorite flowers were.
and that she was not a morning person.
she can sleep like a log through the morning. maybe due to her horrible sleeping habits, but she can sleep until two in the afternoon.
he was the opposite, waking up bright and early to cook breakfast, tend to his chickens, knit whatever came to mind.
he’d let her sleep for an extra hour when she came over, but he didn’t let her sleep any longer than that.
so, he found a good way to arise her from her slumber.
a smile etched its way on mychael’s lips when she didn’t stir, leaning closer to her ear and whispering again.
“fireflyyyy….its time to wake up.” he brushed some hair from her face, catching her lips twitch as a barley audible hum escaped her.
curse him and his soft voice. it always made her heart flutter and her brain run a million miles an hour.
she felt herself become more and more awake and aware, but she still didn’t open her eyes,
mychael lets out a soft laugh, nuzzling his nose into her hair, “come on, firefly, I made you breakfast.” he mumbled against her head, pressing a soft kiss against it.
she almost smiled, but she held it down, pressing her lips into a thin line.
mychael didn’t miss that, knowing she was hearing everything he was saying.
he pressed another kiss on her cheek, right below her nose, “if you don’t eat it, it’ll get cold,” he pressed on, another kiss on her nose, “and I don’t want you to go hungry.”
she purses her lips, the edges of her lips quirking and her eyelids shutting tighter.
another laugh escaped him, shaking his head, “firefly, I know you’re awake.” he chided, reaching up to cup her cheek with one hand, “come on, open your eyes for me, please?”
….it’s hard to ignore him.
that’s why his method of waking her up always works.
she opened one eye, peaking up and catching the gaze of his beautiful golden eyes.
the sunlight traced over his features, making him appear more otherworldly, more breathtaking.
more beautiful.
she opens her other eye, leaning against the warmth of his palm and letting the smile grow on her lips, “good morning, mychael.”
mychael sighed lovingly, staring into her with that lovesick expression he had developed with her. he can practically feel his tail wagging behind him.
he leans closer, pressing his forehead against hers and closing his eyes, basking the in warmth from her skin, “morning, firefly.” he whispered, pressing the final kiss on her lips.
pairings aged-up neteyam x omatikaya!dancer reader
notes slow burn, drunken confession, mutual pining, yearner neteyam as per usual <3, reader is lo’ak’s best friend, groveling (lowkey), smut (p in v), oral (f receiving)
synopsis neteyam had carried a quiet attraction to you ever since lo’ak and kiri brought you home when you were children. growing up, neteyam was many things, but he was never malicious nor was he a liar... so you couldn't begin to understand what possessed him when, in a druken haze, he started blurting out things you would never have dared to dream of— not even in your wildest dreams.
word count 16.5k
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The scraping hiss of stone against the obsidian blade of his arrow was the only sound that can be heard from Neteyam’s corner of their family kelku. He sat cross-legged on a woven mat, his posture unnaturally straight for a twelve-year-old. Before him lay his other arrows, their fletching already perfectly aligned, so he was focused entirely on the tips, although he does this almost every single day.
His bow and arrows are his constant company now that he was preparing for his iknimaya, years younger than most who dared, but that was mainly because even at a young age, he was already a prodigy. He was a sharp shooter, and the council spoke of it in quiet, proud murmurs, how the Olo’eyktan’s eldest son could pierce a moving yerik’s heart from fifty paces out.
Now, with aspirations of being a warrior, he had stopped playing games in the mud a long time ago. He had understood early that being the firstborn of Toruk Makto came with duties and responsibilities that he needed to carry, but he’d also decided a long time ago to wear it like armor.
Eventually, the peace of the hut was shattered.
With a chorus of breathless giggles and stomping feet, Lo’ak and Kiri came bursting through the kelku, colliding with the space, bringing the chaotic, wild energy of the rainforest inside with them. Behind them tumbled Spider, his smaller human frame practically skidding across the smooth wood before he unceremoniously dumped himself onto a pile of sleeping mats, making himself comfortable as if he owned the place.
Neteyam’s head were immediately up the moment they bounded into the hut, a habit natural to an older brother with siblings who always get into trouble. He drew the whetstone down the edge of the obsidian one last time before he fully gave the bunch his attention, but as he did, his gaze caught on something, or someone, standing just at the entryway, framed by the morning light filtering through the giant branches of Hometree.
You looked hesitant, just hovering at the entrace, looking entirely awkward as you swift your weight from one foot to the other, your hands nervously tucked behind your back. Yet, to a twelve-year-old boy who had spent the last two years looking only at targets and hunting trails, you were unexpectedly, captivatingly breathtaking.
Neteyam’s hand froze on his arrow.
He had never seen you around. He reasoned, with a sudden and strange analytical focus, that you must live in the higher branches, among the families that don’t have a single warrior in them, and thus needed the protection of height. You were from the quiet parts of the clan. And because Neteyam had traded his childhood games for training drills, your paths had simply never crossed.
Until now.
Spider, sprawling out on the mats, raised a hand lazily toward the entrance. “Come inside, Y/N! It’s just Neteyam,” he said in passing, his voice cracking slightly with age. But Spider didn't care to elaborate, or to even properly introduce the two of you, because he was already turning his head toward Kiri, who was aggressively digging through a woven basket. “Did you check behind the sleeping furs?”
Neteyam’s mind repeated the syllables of your name. The name felt light, it sounded like bells... And it suits your face well. His eyes locked onto you, tracing the way a few stray leaves were bounded into your slightly messy, tangled hair. You had clearly been running through the brush, wild and unbothered by the state of your hair.
An unfamiliar prickle of annoyance flared deep in Neteyam’s chest. He didn't like how his chest felt. He didn't like how his eyes refused to move away from you, glued to the soft curve of your jaw and the nervous way your eyes are looking anywhere but him. He was a warrior in training; he was supposed to be hyper-aware of his surroundings, yet right now, the entire world had shrunk to the perimeter of the doorway where you stood. He felt a sudden, fierce need to know what was going on, to regain control of his own senses, but he couldn't even bring himself to look at his siblings to demand answers.
“What’s going on?” Neteyam asked aloud. His voice was transitioning, cracking slightly but holding the firm, steady cadence he practiced to sound like his father.
As he spoke, he forcibly turned his head toward the alcove where Kiri and Lo’ak were currently tossing mats around. But even as his head turned, his eyes lagged behind, stubbornly remaining on you for a second longer.
And because he spoke, you finally looked in his direction.
Your gaze widened slightly, startled by the intense, unblinking focus of the boy in front of you. To you, it felt like an interrogation. Because he had been looking directly at you when the words left his mouth, you felt the sudden heat of his attention, even as he hastily looked away toward his siblings.
“We're going to the river!” Lo’ak announced loudly, emerging from a pile of tapestries with a triumphant grin. In his hand, he brandished a pair of old, scratched human goggles. “We decided to swim, and I told Y/N she has to try the goggles. It makes things way clearer underwater. You can see the fish before they bite your toes.”
“And we found them! Let's go, let's go, she hasn't seen the deep pools yet!” Kiri cheered, already darting past you out into the branches.
Lo’ak didn't wait either. He grabbed Spider by the arm, dragging the boy up, and the three of them rushed back out of the kelku in a whirlwind of laughter. You gave Neteyam one last, lingering, bewildered look before turning on your heel to sprint after them.
Neteyam didn't think. He dropped the whetstone. The arrow clattered against the floor as he stood up, drawn to the edge of the platform by a magnetic pull he couldn't comprehend.
He stepped out onto the wide branch of the kelku, his hand gripping the guide rope tightly as his eyes tracked the group. You are all moving fast, navigating the massive, winding branches of the Hometree with the ease of children who spent their days laughing.
But Neteyam’s eyes only tracked one person.
He watched as you suddenly accelerated, a wild, unbridled smile breaking across your face. With a burst of chaotic energy that rivaled Lo'ak's, you threw your weight forward, bodyslamming into Lo’ak’s shoulder just enough to knock him off balance. He let out a dramatic yell as you used the momentum to leap, catching a dangling vine and swinging yourself over a gap in the branches, sticking the landing perfectly and leaving Lo'ak eating your dust.
“See that dust? Eat it!” your voice chimed and Neteyam tilted his head.
Look at that, he thought. You were so shy earlier, and now, your laughter is echoing back up through the trees, bright and untamed.
Standing high above, his brows furrowed deeply. A strange, tight sensation bloomed in his chest, hot and demanding. He looked down at his calloused hands, hands that were being trained to hold a heavy bow, to kill, to lead.
For the first time in two years, as he watched you disappear into the green expanse of the jungle, Neteyam didn't want to be a warrior. Suddenly, desperately, he just wanted to play. The feeling felt foreign, yet it pulled at him too hard that he ended up turning back inside to rush through the final inspection of his arrows with uncharacteristic speed. He shoved them into his quiver, dropped his whetstone, and practically bounded down the massive, spiraling branches of Hometree. For the first time in years, he wasn't running toward the training ground or a hunting lesson. He was running toward the sound of laughter.
He almost made it.
“Neteyam.”
The melodious voice of his mother followed him as he ran and Neteyam skidded to a halt on a wide moss-covered branch, his tail twitching in sudden disappointment, knowing the fun would have to wait. Neytiri stepped out from a shaded walkway, her eyes assessing his hurried stance.
“Get Lo’ak and Kiri. Mo’at requires them for the midday ritual. Do not let Lo'ak wander off,” Neytiri ordered, her hand gently patting Neteyam’s head.
His shoulders slowly sank, the warrior's mask locking back over his features. “Yes, Mother.”
By the time he tracked them down to the shallow banks of the river, the fun was in full swing. The water was crystalline, kicking up sparkling droplets as Lo’ak, Kiri, and Spider splashed each other. You were right in the center of it, Jake’s old, scratched human goggles pushed up onto your forehead, your face lit up with a brilliant, breathless grin that made him sigh.
Neteyam stepped out onto a low-hanging root over the water, his hands on his waist. He hated the role he had to play. He hated being the one who always brought the shadow of responsibility over their sunlit days.
“Guys,” he called out, his voice carrying the firm weight of an elder brother. “Mother said we have to go back. Tsahik is waiting for the ritual.”
A collective groan echoed from the water. Lo’ak threw his arms up, splashing the surface in frustration. “Are you serious, Neteyam? We just got here!” Kiri rolled her eyes, muttering something about how he was always ruining things.
Usually, Neteyam wouldn't give a damn about their complaints. Duty was duty. But then his eyes shifted to you.
Your brilliant smile vanished. Your lips pulled down into a small, disappointed pout, and a soft, genuine aww slipped from your mouth. In an instant, Neteyam felt about two feet tall. A hot wave of embarrassment and fierce regret rushed down his neck that he actually found his shoulders hunching slightly under your gaze, desperately wishing he hadn't been the one to snuff out that wild spark in your eyes.
“Look,” Neteyam cleared his throat, offering an uncharacteristic concession. “I can give you half an hour more. I'll tell Mother I had trouble finding you.”
Lo’ak stopped his splashing, glaring up at him with a deep frown. “You're being weirdly lenient today, bro, but it's annoying to play when you know you have an ultimatum ticking down. Let's just go.”
The walk back to Hometree was a somber affair. Lo’ak and Kiri marched ahead, still dripping wet and grumbling under their breath. Because they were unified in their annoyance, Kiri suddenly draped a comforting arm around your shoulders, and Lo’ak did the same from your other side, pulling you into their tight-knit circle of rebellion.
Spider walked right alongside them, jumping to wrap an arm on Lo’ak’s shoulder. “Wow, thanks guys! Leave the alien out, it's fine!”
Neteyam walked a few paces behind the group, watching all of you tightly grouped together. Talk about it... he thought bitterly to himself, his ears pressing flat against his hair. Spider felt left out for mere seconds, while he was literally outside the circle. He was the guard, the soldier walking behind the captives, totally isolated from the warmth of the friendship you shared with his siblings.
And then, for some reason, you looked back.
It was just a quick glance over your shoulder like you were checking on him. Your wide eyes locked onto his solemn face, as if you suddenly remembered there was a quiet, looming presence trailing behind the group. The moment your eyes met his, you flustered and immediately snapped your head back around, staring straight ahead. But that tiny, fleeting acknowledgment broke the ice in Neteyam’s chest. A small, genuine smile tugged at the corner of his lips. You knew he was there.
He didn’t know then, but he will eventually understood that this day would make him understand what his father meant about love at first sight.
Years bled into one another. Over time, you became a permanent fixture in the Sully kelku, as natural and expected as Spider. You were the sister Kiri never knew she needed, and Lo’ak’s closest confidante. And while Neteyam was off becoming a prodigy of the hunt, he always knew when you were around. He’s somehow always home when you’re hanging out with his siblings, despite the grueling demands of being an aspiring warrior.
You had grown into your own path, too. No one in your family was a fearsome warrior or a great weaver, but you had found your purpose in the rhythm of the clan's ceremonies, aspiring to be one of the dancers.
Today would be your first ever ceremony, but you don’t feel as excited as you thought you would have been in this situation. Today was the unilatron, the Dream Hunt for several aspiring young warriors, including Neteyam. The central communal area was a beautiful mess of energy, pulsing with drums and the chatter of nervous families. Dancers were weaving through the crowds, hands stained with ceremonial dyes.
You were adjusting the woven band of your iridescent arm wings when a tall shadow fell over you. You turned, expecting Lo’ak to steal your prop feathers, but instead, you froze at the sight of Neteyam. He had grown staggeringly tall over the past few years, his shoulders broad and corded with lean muscle, his skin bearing the faint, proud scars of his trainings.
He already looked like an accomplished warrior, a man, in your clan’s sgandards. And looking up at him, you suddenly felt like that awkward ten-year-old kid in the doorway again.
You had grown closer over the years, sure. You talked when you were both stranded in the kelku by heavy rains, or when Kiri forced everyone to sit together. But you still couldn't shake the deep shyness that hits you whenever he looked at you. Half the girls in the higher branches spent their days begging you to introduce them to him, but how could you tell them that you barely knew how to look him in the eye yourself?
In his large, calloused hands, he held a small wooden bowl filled with thick white paint.
“Sorry to bother,” Neteyam mumbled, his voice deep, vibrating in a way that made your skin prickle. He shifted his weight, looking uncharacteristically flustered. “I just need—”
You blinked, snapping out of your daze, and accepted the bowl from him with a quick smile. “Sure,” you agreed easily.
You tried to ignore the fact that his golden eyes were suddenly darting anywhere but at your face. He was usually so poised, so perfectly calm, but right now, his ears were twitching nervously.
“You... you’re part of the performances?” he asked, his voice stammering slightly as your fingers dipped into the smooth paint.
As you stepped closer, closing the gap between you, you reached up and let your fingertips glide across his collarbone, leaving a bright white streak behind. Neteyam’s breath hitched. He tried so hard not to stammer, trying to keep his chest from heaving, but the sensation of your soft fingers tracing patterns across his warm skin felt like raw electricity.
“Yes, I’m included this time,” you boasted, trying to distract yourself from the closeness. You chuckled, shaking your head. “I would have debuted in the festival last great moon, but I got injured.” You added, and then you paused, realizing how ridiculous that sounded. “Sorry. That sounded like one of Lo’ak’s excuses.”
You laughed, but as you kept your eyes trained on his chest, mapping out the ritual lines, you didn't notice how his smile suddenly faded.
Neteyam’s jaw tightened slightly. It was always like this. Whenever you two spoke, whenever you were alone, the ghosts of Kiri and Lo’ak were dragged into the space between you. He didn't know why, but lately, hearing his brother's name fly so easily from your lips was starting to get on his nerves. He wanted you to look at him. Just him.
“Now... your face,” you said casually, wiping your hands on a leaf before dipping two fingers back into the bowl.
Neteyam didn't say a word. He simply lowered his head, bending his knees slightly so you wouldn't have to strain to reach him.
The shift in proximity was sudden and overwhelming. Now, you were almost face-to-face. You could feel the soft whisper of his breath against your skin, and you could smell the mint herbs that always clung to him. A sudden rush of heat flooded your cheeks that your fingers trembled slightly as you began to paint the intricate, swirling lines across his cheekbones.
You were doing fine, holding your breath, until your fingers glided gently down the curve of his nose, brushing close to his lips. At the exact second your fingers glided on his lips, your eyes snapped up to his and your eyes locked.
The intensity in his gaze made your heart leap straight into your throat. The drums around the clearing seemed to fade into a distant, muffled thumping, completely drowned out by the roar of blood in your ears.
“G-Good luck,” you stammered, quickly smirking to cover up the sudden crack in your voice. “Try not to die.”
Neteyam huffed a soft laugh, his eyes never leaving yours. “Wow, thanks. For you, I’ll think about that.”
“Seriously...” you murmured, your playful facade slipping away as you narrowed your eyes at him in genuine concern.
The unilatron was terrifying. It was a deadly rite of passage, even for grown men, involving venom, vivid hallucinations, and spiritual trials that some never woke up from. Neteyam was the youngest among all the aspirants this year, even with the council delaying his schedule too many times because he was too young for the venom, he was still so young right now.
Seeing the real, raw worry in your eyes, Neteyam’s expression softened. The tension in his shoulders melted away. “Serious. I’ll come out alive,” he mumbled softly.
He reached out, his large, warm hand gently gripping your forearm. He gave it a slow, reassuring squeeze, his thumb brushing against your skin. It was a gesture meant to comfort, but it felt so heavy, so deeply intimate and private amidst the busy crowd, that your cheeks burned all over again. You ended up just nodding, praying he couldn't hear the frantic drumming of your heart.
₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚
“Bro, I saw that!” Spider smacked your hand away when you made a cheating move when you he wasn’t looking.
You bursted into a booming laughter, putting your piece back on its original place. “If you’d just pay full attention instead of looking at Kiri...”
Kiri groaned. “What?!” she bayed. “That’s it! I’m quitting, I’m getting us some food!”
You watched her stand up, her tail swaying calmly despite her outburst. Spider followed closely behind her, as per usual. The years that had rolled by had treated you all kindly, shedding the remnants of awkward lankiness in favor of firm, lean frames.
You sat cross-legged on a woven mat, meticulously arranging the wooden carved tokens on the board. Your hangouts are not as frequent now as it was before, with Kiri being occupied with the heavy responsibilities of her training as a Tsakarem and Spider glued to her side.
Beside you, Lo’ak sighed for the nth time since he sat down to play. He was uncharacteristically silent, staring at the game board with a heavy, distant frown. Your brows furrowed, your elbow pushing Lo’ak’s propped arm off his knee, causing him to lose hold of his face.
“What’s wrong with you?” you asked, your head angling a little and saw him rolling his eyes.
“Nothing,” he muttered, his tail flicking defensively as he knocked over a wooden token with his finger.
“Said by the Olo’eyktan of Nofun clan,” you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. “You haven’t made a single smart-ass comment in twenty minutes. It’s creepy.”
Lo’ak let out a long, defeated sigh, his broad shoulders slouching. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his golden eyes filled with a raw, brewing frustration. “I overheard some of the hunters near the lower pens today,” he murmured, his voice tight. “They were talking... Comparing my tracking drills to Neteyam’s. Saying I’m still struggling to master maneuvers that Neteyam could do asleep when he was ten.”
You sighed, feeling a surge of deep sympathy for him. You knew exactly how heavy that comparison weighed on him. Lo’ak was sixteen, and the fact that he hadn't earned his cummerbund yet was a constant source of gossip among the council and the older warriors. It meant Lo’ak, even at his more matured age, had no match to a younger Neteyam who passed his iknimaya and unilatron with flying colors.
What made it so much worse, and so much harder for Lo’ak to process, was that Neteyam wasn't an arrogant bloke who rubbed his success in his brother's face. In fact, Neteyam was maddeningly kind. He routinely covered for Lo’ak’s mishaps, taking the blame or smoothing things over before Jake could even find out. Neteyam was a shield for his brother, too understanding and graceful, which only made Lo’ak feel smaller. He couldn’t even hate his brother for being perfect.
“Well... for what it's worth, I think they are all losing their minds for expecting you to be just like him,” you said firmly, picking up a fallen game piece. “Or even half of him. I mean, let’s be real, that man trains like he knows the demons are going to drop from the sky tomorrow. No one can measure up to him, and they know that.”
You pursed your lips when you saw Lo’ak look as if you had rubbed salt to the wound.
“I mean... if you want to at least be half of him, you should probably start training more,” you nudged his foot with yours, offering a soft, teasing smile. “At the moment, you have more fun than the literal toddlers in this clan. That’s something Neteyam had to entirely give up at an early age to get to where he is now. That’s exactly why he’s... well, no fun and ever so serious!” you whispered the last part conspiratorially, casting a playful glance toward the empty entrance.
A genuine crack of laughter broke through Lo’ak’s somber expression. He shook his head, the tension leaving his jaw. “Yeah. I suppose I need to train better.”
You shrugged, a fond smile breaking across your face. “Yeah. So you can finally go through your unilatron without your mother worrying whether you’ll survive the venom or just die.”
“Hey, I’d survive,” Lo’ak protested, rolling his eyes even though a bit of his usual bravado had returned. Then, his smile softened into something deeply grateful. He looked at you, leaning back on his hands. “I guess it's alright, too, that I’m not as good as him. At least there’s something I have that he doesn’t.”
“Which is a sense of fun,” you chuckled.
“No, you, skxawng,” he clarified. “Think about it. Ninety-nine percent of the young girls in this clan have a massive, pathetic crush on him. He is their perfect, mighty, can-do-no-wrong handsome prince. Every time he walks past the weaving circles, they practically trip over their own looms. And you belong in the glorious one percent who don’t give a damn about him. Thankfully.”
Your fingers, which had been manipulating a carved wooden token on the board, faltered. You quickly looked away with a nervous laugh, staring intently at the game as a sudden, traitorous image flashed in your mind. Neteyam, his intense golden eyes locking onto yours. You didn’t even know when that memory happened.
As Lo’ak’s partner-in-crime, you’ve always found Neteyam’s eyes on you. You knew that it was because he needed to make sure that you two are behaving the way you should so he wouldn’t have any trouble to cover up for... But he had only grown more devastatingly handsome as years passed by, possessing a quiet, mysterious depth that made your heart do backflips whenever he chanced to look your way.
“Right...” you laughed nervously, your voice tight as you forced a casual shrug. “But I think your brother wouldn't want to have me anyhow, so that’s not a very good consolation prize for you. You should still train. Seriously.”
Before Lo’ak could question your sudden blush, the woven curtain rustled. Kiri and Spider are back, carrying a wooden platter laden with dried fruit and sweet roots. Just in time, the main entrance of the kelku darkened and your eyes snapped upward. Your heart practically leaped straight into your throat when you saw Neteyam step inside.
He unslung his heavy bow, placing it meticulously in the weapon rack. He was breathtaking. He had the sharp, striking features of his mother and the towering, commanding presence of his father. He was already a man grown, a skilled warrior, yet he carried an air of quiet mystery that made him entirely captivating. And the absolute worst part? His golden eyes were already fixed directly on you the moment he crossed the threshold.
You felt the 99% of the clan's girls entirely in that single, breathless second. You get them. You sighed. So sorry, Lo’ak...
You bit your lip, smoothly tearing your eyes away as you felt your cheeks burn. He let a soft huff of breath through his nose when you looked away, feeling disappointed that you had to break the contact. You knew none of it, but the space in his chest had long since ceased to belong to the hunt because his quiet attraction had only deepened into something consuming, something permanent, as the years bled by.
He had never spoken of it, bound by his duties and his own fierce restraint, but his heart had stubbornly molded itself to the exact shape of you. To him, the girls in the weaving circles or the training grounds didn't exist. There was only the girl who would body-slam his brother for the the piece of pie... The girl whose laugh sounded like the wild wind.
“Neteyam!” Kiri greeted, setting the food down. “You’re just in time. Come sit, join the game. Lo’ak is actually losing for once.”
Neteyam’s gaze lingered on your face, tracking the faint, lingering flush on your cheeks before he nodded. “I will,” he said, his deep voice sending a familiar prickle of electricity down your spine. He gestured vaguely toward the back of the hut. “Just wait a moment. I need to wash the trail dust off.”
“Bro, it’s just us! Who cares if you’re dusty. Your fan club isn’t here!” Spider’s bellow followed after him.
“Neteyam doesn’t care about the girls who like him,” Lo’ak pointed out.
Spider blew air out of his pursed lips, sending it vibrating. “Right. So, why is he always washing up for whatever whenever we’re here. Trust me, he’ll come back smelling so good—”
“Stop it, you two!” Kiri said and your eyes snapped up to look at her, seeing her purse her lip just as she was looking away from you.
Neteyam did come back, smelling like a mix of strong mint and faint floral. Spider widened his eyes at Lo’ak when Neteyam plopped down beside you, the haired tip of his tail curling dangerously close to your thighs, tickling you a little. Your breath hitched a little and Neteyam, too aware of you, immediately pulled his tail away.
“Sorry,” he mumbled and you nodded without looking at him.
Spider widened his eyes at Lo’ak again, but everything happened too fast at once that it all flew over his head. Meanwhile, you were staring down at the board, your mind a complete blur, completely unaware that the boy beside was currently taking a deep breath of his own, his heart hammering against his ribs just from being near you.
One moon bled into the next, and before any of you could truly grasp how fast the seasons were turning, more than a year had swept through Hometree.
Time really had a way of bringing change and a proof of it was currently taking place at the center of the communal grounds. Lo’ak had finally, fortunately, survived his unilatron. He was a warrior of the clan now, a man recognized under the eyes of Eywa, and the entire clan was pulsing with a fierce celebration.
Wrapped in shimmering, iridescent feathers mimicking the majestic span of a beautiful ikran, you were right in the heart of the performance, spending the evening leaping, spinning, and losing yourself to the booming rhythm of the drums. But the moment the ceremonial fires settled into embers, you broke away from the dancers to join the familiar circle of your friends.
You slid onto a woven mat beside Kiri and Spider, but the scene unfolding before you immediately made your brows furrow.
Because it was Lo’ak’s day, Neteyam, in a rare, uncharacteristic display of brotherly indulgence, had actually agreed to a competition. A match to see who could drink more of the heavy, fermented brew and hold their alcohol better.
By the time you sat down, the damage was already done. Neteyam looked incredibly flushed, his skin carrying a dark, warm violet tint beneath his lingering paint. His jaw was clenched, his broad shoulders tense as he forced himself to down another small wooden shot-glass, looking like a man marching into a battle he was drastically losing. Lo’ak, on the other hand, just grinned, looking completely at ease. You knew for a fact that Lo’ak could handle his alcohol remarkably well from his secret late-night escapades with the lower-branch boys, while Neteyam was someone who practically never drank for fun.
When Lo'ak reached for the pitcher to pour another round, you finally had enough. You slammed your hand over the wooden cup in front of Neteyam, effectively intervening.
“That's enough,” you said firmly, your voice cutting through the chaos.
The moment you intervened, Neteyam nodded completely, not even speaking to argue. But as he tried to shift his weight away from the drink, his heavy torso swayed violently, his balance entirely lost. He could barely keep himself upright. With a startled breath, you quickly slid closer, letting him lean heavily against your side, your shoulder and arm propping up his massive, muscular frame.
You snapped your head up, glaring across the mat. “What would your mother say if she saw Neteyam like this, Lo'ak?” you scolded sharply.
Lo’ak lazily waved a hand, his grin splitting wide. “It's not always Neteyam gets in trouble, so don't worry, he won't be scolded. We're all celebrating anyway!" He leaned across the table, pointing a proud finger at his older brother. "Besides, I just learned that there's something I’m better than Neteyam at!”
“Yeah, and it's in drinking, which is literally the most annoying vice anyone could ever have,” you hissed back at him, tightening your grip around Neteyam’s arm as he let out a soft, heavy groan against your temple.
“Oh, come on, bro,” Lo’ak snorted, rolling his eyes. “I know your dad’s a drunk, but a competition like this won’t make us drunks.”
The atmosphere instantly cooled. Spider’s jaw dropped, and he aggressively smacked Lo’ak’s arm. “Lo’ak,” Spider warned, his voice low and sharp. “Skxawng.”
“That’s enough, Lo’ak. Don’t be stupid,” Kiri followed, her eyes narrowing into a dangerous, protective glare.
Lo’ak’s cocky grin vanished as the weight of his own words hit him. He looked at your tensed shoulders, his eyes softening with immediate regret. “Sorry,” he murmured, his voice suddenly small. “Seriously, Y/N. I didn't mean it like that.”
You rolled your eyes, taking a breath as you kept your focus on the heavy warrior leaning against you. “I wasn't offended. It’s true anyway,” you said quietly. “I’m bringing Neteyam back to your hut.”
Kiri nodded immediately, her expression shifting to one of deep sympathy. “I’ll go with you.”
Getting Neteyam out of the celebration grounds was a feat in itself. Surprisingly, he could still walk, though it was an incredibly zigzaggy, clumsy endeavor. You and Kiri each held one of his large arms, steering him through the winding, illuminated paths of Hometree.
Along the way, the alcohol seemed to unlock a completely hidden side of Neteyam. He began to yap about the most ridiculous things, slurring out complaints about a stubborn direhorse that wouldn't cooperate during his hunt, and how the younger hunters didn't coil their ropes correctly. It was so entirely petty and unlike his perfect persona that you couldn't help but burst into a soft laughter.
As your laughter echoed through the quiet walkway, Neteyam’s slurred rambling tripped to a sudden halt. He stopped walking, forcing you and Kiri to stop with him. With heavily drooped eyes, he pointed a shaking, clumsy finger toward the distance, where the nearby bioluminescent river could be seen like a ribbon of liquid starlight.
“That... that looks so beautiful,” he slurred in a thick, gibberish tone, his head lolling to the side, his glassy eyes zeroing in on you. "It’s... it’s just like you."
Your heart gave a violent, sudden thud. You quickly looked away, your cheeks instantly bursting into a furious heat. He is completely wasted, you reasoned frantically, refusing to let yourself believe he actually meant you.
But as you kept walking, a sharp, bitter prick of annoyance bloomed in your chest. You thought about the sheer possibility of him having that smooth side in him. Did he say unprompted, poetic lines like that to the pretty huntresses in the training grounds when no one was looking? The sudden, burning wave of jealousy was so intense that you felt a wild urge to just push him right off the branch.
When you finally reached their family kelku, the hut was entirely dark and empty, the rest of the family still down at the feast. Kiri quietly led the way to the back, pulling open the woven curtain of Neteyam’s sleeping alcove. The space immediately enveloped you, smelling richly of the distinct, comforting scent of him.
Together, you and Kiri guided him down onto his soft sleeping mat where he plopped down heavily, entirely deadweight, a stupid, lazy laugh bubbling out of his chest as he hit the furs.
Kiri quietly moved across the alcove, lighting a hanging firepot to cast a warm, flickering amber glow over the room. She returned with a small wooden bowl of water and a soft, woven cloth, handing it to you. “Help me wipe his war paint off before it stains the bedding.”
You nodded, kneeling beside Neteyam. As you dipped the cloth into the water and wrung it out, Neteyam blinked heavily, his eyes struggling to focus against the firelight. Slowly, his gaze zeroed in on your form. For a while, he was just blinking.
And then you saw his pupils dilate significantly the moment he realized it was you. Before you could even press the damp cloth to his skin, his large, calloused hand shot out, his fingers wrapping firmly around your wrist.
“Hi...” he slurred, a slow, incredibly lazy smile spreading across his lips.
You blinked a few times, your breath catching in your throat as you found yourself completely distracted by how breathtakingly handsome he looked in the dim light. “Uh... hello?” you hesitated, your voice a breathless whisper.
Neteyam’s golden eyes widened just a fraction, a spark of pure awe cutting through his drunken haze. “And she speaks...” his smile stretched into a genuine, radiant grin. He let go of your wrist, his hand traveling upward, his thick fingers clumsily reaching out to touch the iridescent feathers woven into your hair. “Damn, it’s so real.”
You looked up at Kiri in confusion, and her head tilted to the side as she hid a stifled a smile.
“Well... I am real,” you muttered back to him, turning your attention back to his face.
“Yeah, right. Could have fooled me,” Neteyam murmured, rolling his eyes away, muttering about some ‘then why isn’t she talking about Lo’ak, Lo’ak, Lo’ak now?’
Your head tilted. “What?“ you mumbled and you saw him roll his eyes again, moving his face away in a sulking act. “Neteyam...” you called softly, bringing the cool, damp cloth to his cheek.
His face snapped right back to you, his gaze back on your face, anchoring himself to your touch. “A year ago...” he mumbled, his deep voice carrying a sudden, raw gravity that didn't sound drunken at all. He reached up, his finger gently curling around a stray strand of your dark hair, twirling it softly. “You said... you said that you don't think I'd want to have you anyhow...”
Your hand froze against his cheek, your lungs completely locked as your widened eyes stare at him. He heard that...
“And you couldn't have been more wrong,” Neteyam murmured, his voice dropping into a soulful, intense register as his golden eyes burned into yours. “Because I want you...” He closed his eyes for a moment, squeezing it like he was wishing for something. “Fuck, I want to have you. Will you let me have you? I promise... I promise I will take care of you. So good...”
He let out a soft, breathless huff, his lazy smile returning as his strong, heavy arm suddenly snaked around your waist. With a gentle but unyielding tug, he pulled you closer to, his eyes drooping heavily under the weight of the alcohol.
“I’ve never wanted anything in my life... as much as I wanted you, Y/N...” he mumbled against your hair.
You stared at him, your eyes wide with absolute shock, your entire body trembling as his uttered your name. Behind him, Kiri looked completely flabbergasted, her jaw slightly slack as she witnessed her stoic, fiercely guarded older brother completely unraveling his soul.
Neteyam closed his eyes for a few minutes, his breathing heavy as you forced your trembling hands to finish wiping the paint from his face. But just when you thought he had passed out, his eyelids peeled open again, staring up at you through the dim firelight.
“You are so beautiful...” he murmured with that same stupid smile. He let out a contented sigh, his grip on your waist loosening just a fraction as sleep finally claimed him. “I’ll pray to the Great Mother...” he slurred. “I mean... I prayed. So she might just give... To me... If I begged her right...”
A few moments later, his arm went entirely limp, and his deep, even breathing filled the quiet alcove.
You sat frozen on the mat, the damp cloth clutched tightly in your fist. You didn't know what to think. Your heart was pounding so violently against your ribs that your chest physically ached, and your face was burning with a fierce, suffocating flush. You wanted to cry. You desperately wanted to believe he was just talking out of his mind because of the brew... but his eyes had been so sincere. So deeply truthful. It felt as though he had been holding that heavy, consuming confession inside of his chest for far too many years, and the seal had finally broken.
Slowly, you turned your head to look at his sister.
Kiri was staring at her sleeping brother, and then her wide, stunned eyes slowly shifted to you.
“What...” she whispered. “What just happened?”
“He is out of his mind,” you choked out, your voice trembling as you frantically pulled your hand back, though your cheeks were still burning a furious, violent crimson. “He’s completely wasted. He probably thinks I’m a tree sprite or a... an I don’t know. He’s just bullshitting because of the brew.”
Kiri narrowed her eyes, completely unconvinced. She crossed her arms, her head tilting with that sharp, analytical look she inherited from their mother. “Girl, he literally said your name. He didn't say oh, pretty tree sprite. He said your name.”
“Probably because I am sitting right in front of him!” you argued, your voice rising in a panicked hiss before you quickly clamped a hand over your own mouth, glancing down at Neteyam’s rising and falling chest. “He opened his eyes, saw my face, and his brain just grabbed the nearest name it recognized. You know how he is. He’s always tracking us to make sure we don't break our necks. My name is probably permanently etched into his subconscious as a hazard.”
Kiri stared at you for a long, quiet moment. The hanging firepot cast dancing shadows across her face. She wasn't fooled for a second, but seeing the genuine, absolute panic radiating from your posture, she sighed and let her shoulders drop. “Fine. If that is what you need to tell yourself to sleep tonight.”
You didn't stay long after that. You hurriedly finished wiping the last traces of the blue and yellow paint from his jaw, refusing to look at his lips again, and practically fled the Sully kelku.
The walk back to your own family’s hut was a blur. The jungle was alive with its usual nocturnal symphony, but all you could hear was the deep, soulful register of Neteyam’s voice echoing in your ears: “Because I want you... Fuck, I want to have you.”
In the dark safety of your family’s hut, staring up at the thatched ceiling, your mind spun in vicious circles. You tried so hard to dismiss it, but as you lay there, you started to remember things. The way his eyes always seemed to find yours across a crowded pavilion. The way he would suddenly appear to help you carry heavy bundles of river reeds, only to leave without a word once the task was done.
The way he listens to you and does all your requests faster than a leaf could land when it falls, or whenever he relents to whatever trouble Lo’ak is planning to do once you start pouting about it. The way he had held your arm so tightly during his unilatron preparation. You groaned. How could you have been so blind?
You understood. Or, at least, you thought you did. Your heart ached with a terrifying, sweet realization. You liked Neteyam. Of course you did. He was the golden heir of the Omatikaya. Strong, fiercely loyal, and devastatingly handsome. But what did he mean by all of it? What were you supposed to do with a confession whispered in the dark by a boy drowned in alcohol?
The answer, it turned out, was to run.
In the days that followed, you became an expert at avoiding him. It wasn't entirely difficult; he had duties with the scouts, and you had your dance practices. But Neteyam was a master tracker, and you should have known you couldn't hide forever.
He cornered you on a quiet walkway leading down to the lower branches. He started smooth, his expression perfectly calm, though his ears were pulled back slightly in an uncharacteristic show of nerves He called your name and stepped into your path. You froze, your basket of herbs you volunteered to gather held tightly against your chest as you prepared to speak with him, properly this time.
“Kiri told me... well, she told me how wasted I was the night of the festival. She said I was completely out of it and that I should have controlled myself better,” he rubbed the back of his neck, his golden eyes looking genuinely apologetic. “I wanted to ask you... did I say or do anything to make you uncomfortable? If I did, I am truly sorry. I really can't remember anything after the eleventh cup, and Kiri keeps cryptically telling me I have a loose mouth when I drink. I didn’t mean anything I said.”
You blinked, standing there as you felt your heart drop. Oh. You nodded, feeling as if he had forcefully shoved a giant boulder down your throat. Perhaps, you were right that he was simply just drunk. Like how your father promise things when he’s drunk and then forget it by the morrow. Your head tilted for a moment, surprised with how a very little thing got you aligning Neteyam with your good-for-nothing father.
“Uh,” you managed, forcing a tight, hollow smile onto your face though your chest felt like it just got fractured. You swallowed past the massive lump in your throat. “No, it’s all cool. You didn't say anything important or bad, Neteyam. You were just yapping about a stubborn direhorse... Don't worry about it.”
“Are you sure?” he pressed, stepping a fraction closer, his eyes searching your face.
You stepped back instinctively, making him stop. “Completely. I have to go, Kiri is waiting,” you lied smoothly, quickly darting past him before he could speak again.
That night, in the quiet darkness of your sleeping alcove, you actually cried in frustration. You felt so incredibly stupid for overthinking his words, for letting yourself daydream about what would happen if you talked sober. About the future. But then he was just drunk. It was just that stupid brew talking. It was so unimportant that he didn’t even remember it.
You groaned and sat up on your mat, forcefully rubbing your face and promising yourself that you won’t trust whatever comes out of his mouth about anything regarding what he wants.
More years passed, bleeding into a steady, familiar rhythm. And by familiar, that includes Neteyam who stayed exactly the same. His intense gaze that you once thought meant something still followed you everywhere. He watched you like you had personally hung the stars in sky, as if you were the absolute center of his universe.
Whenever you needed something done, he was there. Whenever you needed anything at all, you already have it. Whenever a stray leaf caught your hair, his hands were already reaching out. But you dared not read into it anymore. You had learned your lesson. In fact, you grew defensive, occasionally ignoring his quiet presence or sharply dismissing his help. “I can carry it myself, Neteyam,” you would say, and he would simply nod, his eyes darkening with a quiet, patient glint before he stepped back.
Now that you were fully of age, the older women of the clan was beginning to look at the youth with matchmaking eyes. Specifically, they were looking at you and Lo’ak.
One afternoon, a group of elders stood near the communal hearth, watching as you sit on a woven mat, aggressively swatting Lo’ak’s hand away as he repeatedly tried to pull a loose thread from the blanket you were weaving. You two were laughing, bickering like the chaotic children you had always been. Neytiri sat nearby, calmly rocking Tuk in her arms.
Neteyam was standing a few paces behind his mother, cleaning his bow, when one of the elder women gestured toward you and Lo'ak.
“Look at them,” one of the women murmured to Neytiri, a fond smile on her face. “Usually, friendships between girls and boys gradually fade with adulthood but those two have only grown even closer.”
They chuckled and another woman spoke, “A man and a woman cannot truly stay as just friends forever. Eventually, they will see each other for what they truly are. See, this will make a beautiful love story. The two troublemakers finally settling down together.”
Behind them, Neteyam’s entire body went rigid.
A sudden mental image of you and his brother ending up together and building a family flashed in his mind. Little kids with Lo’ak’s eyes wearing little loinclothes that you made yourself. He closed his eyes as a fierce, blinding fury erupted in his chest, so hot it nearly choked him. His grip tightened on his bow until his knuckles turned a lighter shade of blue. He hated hearing it. He absolutely loathed the images that popped in his mind unbidden.
He had spent years patiently growing into the man he believed you deserved. He didn’t want to impulsively decide on things that would ruin things for you, he didn’t want a fleeting, immature romance that could break, he was thinking about the future where he could already provide for you, protect you, and offer you everything before he spoke for you under the Great Mother.
He had a whole timeline mapped out in his head. He wanted it to be endgame.
But he had taken Lo’ak’s presence for granted, knowing you two were strictly platonic, but hearing the elders start to babble this nonsense made his blood boil. If you or Lo'ak heard this gossip, it might give you two silly ideas or coerce you into romance that was not real.
Neteyam stepped forward, his towering frame casting a shadow over the elders. “Respectfully, elders,” he began, his tone smooth but carrying an edge that made the old women blink in surprise. “The two of them have a bond of siblings. Pushing such expectations onto them will only ruin a good friendship. It is wiser to let them both find their own paths without the pressure of the imagination. Let them be.”
Neytiri glanced up at her eldest son, a knowing, quietly amused spark lingering in her eyes, though she remained silent. She adjusted Tuk in her arms, her sharp eyes sliding from the bickering pair in the clearing directly to her eldest son. She had always known. It was not her wild, reckless second-born who held a silent devotion for you, but her disciplined, fiercely guarded firstborn.
Neteyam ignored his mother’s perceptive stare, turning his gaze back to the clearing, watching you finally launch a small fruit at Lo’ak’s forehead. His jaw relaxed, his heart swelling with that same, consuming vow he had kept for years. He would wait, and when the time was right, he would make sure everyone knew exactly whose heart you belonged to.
Then came the festival of the New Moons.
The communal grounds were a brilliant, swirling chaos of heat, smoke, and pounding drums. The air was thick with the scent of roasted meat and sweet herbs. You were in the center of the performance circle, your body moving with a fluid, mesmerizing grace, letting yourself sway like a piece of cloth caught in a wild wind. The iridescent feathers of your costume caught the firelight, casting shimmering fractures of light across the crowd.
As you spun, dipping low to the rhythm of the drums, your eyes instinctively swept over the crowd, and caught on a shadow.
Neteyam was standing beside a thick column, a wooden cup held loosely in his large hand. His head was slightly bowed, but he wasn’t looking at the floor. His eyes were peering up at you through the fringe of his lashes, and the sheer, raw intensity of his stare nearly made your heart jump straight into your throat.
The tension in the air between you instantly became palpable, thick and suffocatingly hot. He wasn't even blinking, his eyes tracking your every move, tracing the curve of your waist as you bent, the sweep of your arms, the flash of your bare skin under the firelight. There was a profound, unbridled awe in his expression, but beneath it burned something much darker, a hungry, possessive edge that made your skin prickle with raw heat. For a breathless second, the rest of the clan vanished. The roaring drums became nothing more than the frantic beat of your own pulse.
You nearly missed your next step, your breath hitching as you forced yourself to spin away, breaking the heavy spell of his gaze.
Once the performance finally concluded, the tension dissipated back into the chaotic energy of the crowd. You made your rounds through the clearing, socializing with your friends from the higher branches, laughing at their endless conversations about the warriors, and grabbing small bites of food. By the time the night began to wind down, you made your way toward the back alcoves to get a refreshing drink of sweet water, but you came face-to-face with Neteyam.
He was leaning heavily against a carved wooden pillar, his chest bare, his skin flushed with a warm violet under the remnants of his festival paint. You could tell by the slight glaze in his eyes and the relaxed slump of his usually rigid shoulders that he was drunk.
Of course, you thought bitterly, a familiar wall of defense slamming up inside your chest. You ought to just ignore him. You didn't want a repeat of years ago. You didn't want to swallow another boulder.
You gripped your wooden cup tightly, ducking your head to smoothly walk right past him. But before you could clear his shadow, his large, warm hand shot out, his fingers wrapping firmly around your elbow.
He murmured your name, his deep voice thick and slightly slurred, but carrying a desperate, heavy weight. “Wait. Please.”
You froze, your back tense. “Neteyam, you're drunk. Go sleep it off.”
“Can we talk?” he pressed, his thumb brushing against the skin of your arm in a slow, pleading motion. “Just for a moment. Away from the noise.”
You closed your eyes, a heavy sigh escaping your lips. You shouldn't. You knew you shouldn't. But the raw vulnerability in his tone pulled at you, dangerous and magnetic. “Fine,” you muttered, pulling your elbow from his grasp.
You led him out of the chaos of the communal space, stepping onto a thick, quiet branch that overlooked the bioluminescence of the forest down below. The cool night air hit your face, but it did nothing to cool the burning frustration in your veins.
Neteyam followed you, stopping a few paces away, the moonlight catching the sharp angles of his face, making him look devastatingly handsome that you had to look away. He took a slow breath, his posture suddenly shifting, shedding the clumsy weight of the alcohol as he looked down at you.
When he spoke, his voice went incredibly smooth, completely devoid of his usual restraint.
“I have wanted to tell you this for so long,” he began, stepping closer, his eyes locking onto yours with a terrifying intensity. “But... I didn’t want to go through it prematurely... I wanted to make sure that I am a man worthy of you... Because it has always been you, the Great Mother knows. Since the day you stood in our doorway with leaves in your hair, it had been you, and if you’ll... If you’ll have me, I want to... court you.”
You stared up at him, but the romantic rush you might have felt years ago didn't come. Instead, a cold, bitter wave of disbelief washed over you. You rolled your eyes, letting out a sharp, sarcastic huff of a laugh as you stepped back, shaking your head.
“You are unbelievable,” you spat, your voice dripping with sudden, defensive anger. “You really think you can just stand there and say whatever you like to me, don't you?”
Neteyam blinked, looking genuinely caught off guard. “I am serious—”
“No, you're not!” you cut him off, your fingers curling into tight fists at your sides. “You can tell me whatever pretty, cruel lies you want to say right now, Neteyam, because it doesn't matter. You’ll just forget it all by morning anyway.”
A lump rose in your throat, hot and painful, but you forced the words out, determined to finally empty the heavy chest of secrets you had carried alone for years. If he was going to forget, then you could finally be honest.
“You want to know something funny?” you scoffed, a bitter tear threatening to spill over. “I liked you, Neteyam. I liked you so much. And I almost stupidly fell for your cruel jape the last time you got drunk and told me the same cruel things. I spent days overthinking it, thinking about all the things I want to say to you, only for you to look me in the eye and tell me you didn't remember a single thing and that it didn’t mean anything.”
Neteyam’s jaw slackened, his eyes widening in horrified shock as the slurred fog in his brain desperately tried to process what you were saying. “What... what do you mean?”
“It doesn't matter,” you said fiercely, taking a deep breath to hold your tears back. You looked at his beautiful, flushed face one last time, knowing that by tomorrow, his temporary memory loss brought by the alcohol would wipe his slate completely clean again. He wouldn't remember your confession.
“Good night, Neteyam,” you said quietly.
Without waiting for his response, you turned on your heel and walked away. Neteyam stood frozen on the thick branch, the cool night breeze rustling the leaves around him, but he couldn't feel it. The heavy warmth of the fermented brew vanished from his veins in a single, terrifying heartbeat, replaced by a cold, hollow dread that settled deep in his chest.
He stared at the empty space where you had just been standing.
The echo of your voice, cracked and furious, rang in his ears like the strike of a drum.
“I liked you, Neteyam. I liked you so much. And I almost stupidly fell for your cruel jape the last time you got drunk and told me the same cruel things... Only for you to look me in the eye and tell me you didn't remember a single thing and that it didn’t mean anything.”
His hand slowly dropped to his side. His fingers curled into a tight, trembling fist. He didn't know what to do. For the first time in his life, he was entirely paralyzed by a past action he couldn't even recall. The last time he had allowed himself to get horribly drunk was years ago, on the night of Lo’ak’s unilatron. He remembered waking up the next morning with a pounding skull, only for Kiri to look at him with a disappointed, cryptic glare and warn him that he had a loose mouth when he drank.
He had been terrified. He had seen how you avoided him in the days that followed, how your shoulders tensed whenever he walked by. He had genuinely believed he must have said something horrible, something reckless or possibly creepy that had scared you away. So, when he finally cornered you on that walkway, his only instinct had been damage control. He had desperately wanted to smooth things over, to ensure you didn't think he was a threat, blindly blurting out that he “didn’t mean anything he said.”
A choked, bitter sound escaped Neteyam’s throat. He pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes, dragging them down his face in pure, unadulterated frustration. He wanted to beat himself up. He wanted to find a solid stone wall and bump his head onto it repeatedly.
He hadn't scared you. He had broken you. He had coaxed a confession out of your heart, left you to mourn it alone for days, and then unceremoniously forced you to swallow a boulder by telling you his words were meaningless. And because your father was a man who drowned his life in a cup and spun empty promises by the campfire, you had aligned Neteyam right alongside him.
Neteyam turned and marched back into the clearing, his steps purposeful, hunting down his sister. He found Kiri at the back of a giant root, quietly sipping on a bowl of sweetened brew. She didn't even look when his heavy footsteps thudded against the floor, though her ears twitched.
“Kiri,” Neteyam called out, his voice raw, completely stripping away his usual stoic composure. “At the night of the unilatron festival... Years ago. What did I really say to Y/N?”
Kiri paused, “When you got really drunk?”
Neteyam closed his eyes for a moment before nodding, “Yes, when I got really drunk.”
She slowly turned her head, her sharp eyes taking in his flushed face, his panicked stance, and the sheer desperation radiating from his posture. “I think you already know,” she said quietly.
“Yes, she just told me,” Neteyam blurted out, the words tumbling out of him in a nonstop, uncharacteristic babble. He stepped closer, his hands gesturing wildly. “She just... Kiri, I didn't know what I said. She told me that I basically confessed to her that night. And if I said I loved her, if I said I wanted her to be mine, that was true, believe me. Every word of it was true, but I was so drunk, I didn't remember. And because you were so cryptic to me, because you told me I had a loose mouth, I thought I said something bad. I thought I insulted her and it will ruin whatever we had, so I told her that whatever I said, I really didn’t mean it.”
Kiri stared at her older brother, her jaw slightly slack. She had never seen Neteyam, the golden, perfect son, so completely unravel like this.
“Oh,” Kiri managed to say after his breathless rant. She blinked. “Is it my fault?”
“No!” Neteyam snapped softly, his tone hard but small, his ears pinning back in remorse. “No, it is not your fault. It is my fault. It is entirely my fault. But I need to know exactly what I said, Kiri. Tell me. I need to know so I can affirm it, tell her none of it was a lie, so I can make it up to her.”
Kiri let out a long, heavy sigh, putting her hand holding the bowl down. She looked at him with a mixture of pity and exasperation before she began to recount the night. She told him, in a dramatic recounting, how he had pulled you down by your waist, how he had twirled your hair, and how he had slurred out that he would beg the Great Mother to give you to him if he only prayed right.
As Kiri spoke, Neteyam let out a low groan, burying his face in his large hands. His shoulders shook with a silent, frustrated curse. He was so corny! But at least, he had been sincere. All of it were true, even though he cannot remember them at all.
“Fuck it, Kiri,” he muttered into his palms, his voice muffled. “I am a loose mouth when I’m drunk. I... damn. This is all going so wrong.” He dropped his hands, staring blankly at the wall, his chest heaving. “I wasn't planning for it to unfold this way. I was thinking... I was thinking that there should be a timeline to things, you know? That when I finally told her about what my heart really wanted, we would be grown. I wanted to be better. So I could provide for her. I wanted to have my own status, to make sure things would go perfectly from there, and that—”
“Neteyam,” Kiri called out calmly, cutting through his spiral.
He stopped, looking at her with wide, inquiring eyes.
“I think I know exactly where things went wrong,” she said, her voice dropping into that grounded, old-soul tone she often carried. “It’s when you allowed your micromanaging self to take over your heart. There isn’t a timeline for love, brother. And what you want, or how you think things should perfectly line up, isn't the only thing that's important here.”
Neteyam felt the words hit him like a physical blow. The absolute certainty he had carried for years. His meticulous plan to be your “endgame” suddenly felt incredibly selfish, incredibly foolish. He had fumbled. He had fumbled big time, and he had absolutely no map for the uncharted territory he had stranded himself in.
He thought about you. He thought about how you had admitted, with tears in your eyes, that you had liked him too. You had been looking forward to discussing your feelings with him. You had been ready to step into his arms, and he had blindly, stupidly ruined it before you could even speak.
“Bother,” Kiri called stepping forward to place a comforting hand on his rigid shoulder. “Just as a sisterly advice. The next time you try to speak with her, don't drink. Her father is a drunk, Neteyam. Her first experience with you being stupid was you being drowned in brew. I think you need to start from there.”
Neteyam's breath hitched. Her father. The comparison made a sickening wave of guilt roll through his stomach. He was doing everything wrong. He had strived his entire life to be the perfect son and the perfect warrior, but to the one person who mattered most, he had been nothing but a source of unpredictable, forgotten promises.
Neteyam did not sleep that night. He spent the remaining hours of the darkness washing his face with freezing river water, scrubbing the festival paint from his skin until it burned, and shedding every single ounce of his carefully constructed restraint.
The timeline was dead. It had done nothing but ruin everything, so if he were in a situation he didn’t know how to navigate, the only thing he could do is to fight. If he had to tear down the high canopy of Hometree to prove himself to you, he would do it sober, completely awake, and with a ferocity that would leave no room for doubt.
He had served you quietly before, but he will make sure everybody will not mistake his actions for anything but devotion for an intended mate now. He started the very next day, and you woke up that morning to find massive stacks of perfectly cut firewood that could provide warm for your family for the succeeding moons neatly piled outside your family’s hut, bound with a flawless hunter's knot.
“Who could have possibly left this here?” Your mother asked, her hand clutching at your arm.
You gritted your teeth as your eyes narrowed. “I don’t know...” But you do know. You have a hunch, at least.
“Should we get it inside... Or should we leave it there? In case someone mistakenly put it there?” She angled her head to look at you, but both of your attentions were snagged by your father walking on the branch leading to the hut.
Drunk. And walking remarkably straight enough to keep himself alive.
“Wondering where they came from, eh? I saw the Olo’eyktan’s eldest boy put them there. I’d say it was a tough task, getting all those piles of heavy wood up here,” he slurred before his eyes snapped to you. “That boy owed you?”
You closed your eyes to hide you eyes rolling, but before you could speak, he spoke again.
“Or is that boy courting you?”
“Vatu, what nonsense?! Neteyam is the Olo’eyktan’s heir. He will be paired with a strong and fierce huntress one day soon, or with a chief’s daughter from a different clan. Are you sure you didn’t mistake Lo’ak in your drunken haze?” your mother clarified, stepping outside.
You bit the insides of your lower lip, feeling a slight pinch in your chest at the words your mother uttered about Neteyam’s possible pair. She didn’t say anything wrong, and you knew that her words are completely true, but the fact still felt suffocating.
“No, I can tell those two apart. The taller one was definitely the one who brought these here... I’d ask him next time he does this, so I can be sure.” he walked past your mother and you, walking into the hut to sleep.
“There will be no next time,” you mumbled. You’ll put an end to this. Now.
But when you went to the communal clearing to gather breakfast to bring up to the high branches for your mother, you found a wooden tray with bowls of porridge, a leaf of honeyed hexapede, and the sweetest, rarest deep-forest berries still glistening with morning dew already resting on your usual place during communal meals.
“I can help bring it up, if you’d like,” a deep baritone sounded behind you, almost making you jump.
You knew exactly who it was.
You spunned around with sharp eyes. “What are these for?” you asked, your voice cold.
“Breakfast?”
Your lips pulled back to bare your fangs quietly and he looked at you as if you were a baby nantang showing its fangs for the first time. “I mean, why is this here? And were you the one who left firewood by our hut? Why are you doing this?”
He smiled, “One question at a time, beautiful. I’ll answer that all later, but I think we should really get that tray up before the food gets cold.”
Your eyes narrowed when he leaned forward to gather the tray, and you swat his hand. “I’ll do it. And get all the firewood back!” you groaned and lifted the tray up.
“I can’t,” he said and your head snapped at him.
“What do you mean you can’t?” you frowned.
He stretched his muscled arms with a little drama. “Because my arms are sore from getting them up there. I can’t get them all down anymore,” he pouted.
You hissed, “Stop doing all of these. I don’t need your charity.”
Neteyam didn't flinch at your hiss, neither did he give you that patient, sorrowful nod he used to give. Instead, he smoothly stepped directly into your personal space to take the tray from you. The sheer size of him cast a shadow over you, but his eyes were terrifyingly clear, burning with a fierce intensity.
“It is not charity,” he said, his deep voice smooth. “But you need to get used to it.”
Your breath caught in your throat. You stepped back, your heart hammering against your ribs as you watched him walk with your tray of food. You followed him immediately at the winding ramps leading to the higher branches though, determined to get your tray back.
“I can do that on my own. Give me that,” you pressed as you blocked him on the ramp, reaching for the tray but he kept it away.
“It’s heavy even for me, Y/N. There’s no way I’ll let you take this,” he said, his eyes serious on you. “Let me, okay?”
You blinked, feeling the urge to push him away because you suddenly realized how close his face was, but you know it was you who needed to move because you're blocking the path. He was quick to move, reaching the higher branches in no time, telling you that his excuse about his arms were a lie.
“Daughter?“
Your mother stood completely frozen by the entryway, behind her, the flap was shoved aside, and your father emerged, squinting against the bright morning light.
He rubbed his eyes, letting out a rough, gravelly grunt as he looked at Neteyam, and the tray he was holding. “I told you,” Vatu muttered knowingly. “It was Neteyam I saw.”
Katrey quickly snapped her head toward her husband, her eyes flashing with a warning glare, but Vatu ignored her. He stepped closer, leaning his heavy frame against the doorpost as his glassy eyes zeroed in on the warrior standing in front of their hut.
“Boy, are you courting my daughter?” Vatu asked bluntly, his voice carrying the rough edge of a man who didn't care for formalities.
“Vatu, be quiet!” your mother hissed, her face flushing with immediate embarrassment. She quickly stepped between them, offering Neteyam a deeply apologetic, polite nod. “Please ignore him, Neteyam. Thank you for the breakfast. I apologize for my husband's boldness to ask you things he knows nothing about. He is still out of his mind from the brew he drank.”
“It is nothing, Katrey,” Neteyam replied smoothly.
He didn't step back, nor did he look embarrassed by your father’s blunt interrogation. Instead, he straightened his broad shoulders, his towering frame carrying an unshakeable dignity as his golden eyes shifted from your mother directly to your father.
“And I do intend to win your daughter’s heart,” Neteyam said, his deep baritone ringing clear and steady in the morning air. He dipped his head in a respectful, formal gesture. “This is me asking for your permission, Vatu, Katrey.”
Your mother’s jaw went completely slack. Her eyes snapped up to you in a sudden panic, her breath catching in her throat. Neteyam politely extended his hands, smoothly transferring the weight of the heavy tray into your father’s grip. The sharp, piercing look your mother gave you told you everything. She wanted a full explanation.
Realizing the situation was spiraling entirely out of your control, you quickly grabbed Neteyam by his elbow, firmly pulling him away from the entrance of your hut and leading him down the walkway.
“Thank you, Neteyam...” your mother called out weakly behind you, her voice full of stunned disbelief as she retreated inside.
The moment your parents were safely out of view behind the woven fkap, you rounded on him, your hand dropping from his arm as you hissed fiercely, “What are you saying?!”
“Which part?” Neteyam asked, a boyish, devastatingly handsome smile flashing across his lips. His ears gave a playful, teasing flick. “I said quite a lot.”
You widened your eyes at him, your hands balling into fists at your sides. “You know exactly what I am talking about!”
Neteyam bit his lower lip, his playful demeanor instantly softening. His golden eyes began to roam across your face, slow and deliberate, as if he were completely feasting on your features. Beneath his skin, a bright violet flush crept up his neck and into his cheeks, so intense that he had to look away toward the canopy for a brief second to catch his breath.
When he looked back down at you, the boyish charm was gone, replaced by a raw sincerity.
“Well, I meant what I told your mother,” he said softly, his voice dropping into a low, intimate tone. “I am going to win your heart. You told me you liked me once... but now, you don’t, because I was stupid. I know I ruined it. But I will work very hard to turn it all back around. If you’ll allow me...” He paused, his gaze turning deeply pleading as he took a half-step closer. “But please, allow me.”
You let out a long, heavy sigh, the defensive anger in your chest suddenly feeling exhausting. You looked away from him, staring down at your feet so you wouldn't have to see his face fall. “I don’t know, Neteyam... it’s really not a good idea.”
A sharp, sudden edge cut through his tone. “Why? Because of Lo’ak?”
“No!” you whisper-shouted, your head snapping back up to glare at him. “I do not care for Lo’ak that way, and you know it! It’s only that... you are you, and I am me. You are destined for great things, Neteyam. The clan expects it. The right woman—”
“—is you,” Neteyam interrupted fiercely, his voice rising with a sudden, hot flash of anger that made your breath hitch. He stepped directly into your path, his shadow completely enveloping you as his jaw clenched. “Never speak that way about yourself. You are you, and you are the only woman I have always held close in my heart. If the clan knew how long I have burned for you, they would think it a no-brainer that I should chase after you now until you tire of running away from me.”
He caught himself, realizing his intensity was surprising you. He took a slow breath, his expression softening into something deeply tender as he reached out, his hand hovering just inches from your cheek, desperately wanting to touch you but restraining himself.
“You are what I want, Y/N. You are what I have always wanted,” he said, each word perfectly clear, perfectly sober. “And I am saying this to you now, sober and clear of mind, and I will never forget it again, even if Eywa strikes me down.”
Your lips pressed together into a tight line, your heart pounding so violently against your ribs that it physically ached. You let out a slow, trembling breath, your eyes drifting toward the vast, emerald forest stretching out beyond Hometree.
“Yeah... maybe don’t be that dramatic,” you mumbled quietly, your voice losing all of its biting ice.
Neteyam bit his lip again, his eyes tracking the subtle softenings of your expression. A quiet spark of triumph flared in his chest. It wasn't a no. You weren't yelling, and you weren't as angry as you had been. He was a skilled hunter, he knew exactly when to press an advantage, and he knew exactly when to slip away before his quarry recovered their senses and put up another wall.
“I have to join the morning patrol,” he said softly, backing away a single step while keeping his eyes locked onto yours. “I will see you later.”
Before you could gather your thoughts to give him a proper rebuttal, he turned on his heel and moved down the winding ramp, disappearing into the lower branches with a fluid, effortless grace.
You stood alone on the walkway for a long moment, your face burning with a fierce heat. Finally, you forced your legs to move and walked back to your family's hut. The moment your hand touched the woven entrance, the flap flew open, and your mother pulled you inside, her face tight with intense curiosity.
“What is going on between you two?” Katrey demanded immediately, “What did he mean by that?”
From the back of the hut, your father let out a loud yawn, stretching his arms as he walked back toward the hearth. “Didn’t you hear her, Katrey? The boy said he’s burned for your daughter for so long—”
“Couldn’t you have said that more properly?!” your mother snapped, throwing her hands up in utter exasperation.
“What, that's exactly what he said!” Vatu defended himself, completely unfazed as he collapsed back onto his sleeping mat.
You groaned loudly, burying your burning face in your hands as the chaotic bickering of your parents echoed around the small hut. Neteyam had completely broken down your defenses in less than ten minutes, and based on the look in his eyes, he was only just getting started.
In the next days, everywhere you went, Neteyam was there.
If you were planning to go down to the riverbanks to gather fibers for your costumes, you would turn to find a basket already filled with the finest, smoothest iridescent fibers from the deep forest. If a sudden midday downpour caught you near the low-hanging nurseries, a thick, dry woven cloak would materialize over you, smelling faintly of sweet mint and rain, before the first drop of water could touch your skin.
The clan, naturally, did not miss a single beat. The Omatikaya thrived on the shared breath of the community, and the sight of Toruk Makto’s eldest son carrying out manual chores for a single family’s hut became the premier spectacle of the high branches. The firewood had just been the beginning, he had also took it upon himself to check the structural sinews of your family's shelter after a heavy wind, climbing the high bark with his knife between his teeth, completely oblivious to the lingering stares of the elders below.
“He is stubborn,” your mother noted one evening as she watched Neteyam from the small triangle of the tent's opening. He was sitting cross-legged on the common walkway outside, thoroughly cleaning your family’s blades with fine sand and oil. “He has the Neytiri’s blood in that way. When they choose a direction, they do not turn around.”
“We will see,” you mumbled, twisting a fiber thread between your fingers.
“We will,” Katrey turned, her eyes searching your face with a softness you hadn't expected. “You know... Your father is many things, daughter. He is loud, he is foolish when the brew takes his mind, and he leaves the gathering to the women. But Neteyam... He looks at your mother's hearth before he seeks your hand. A man who honors the nest before he claims the mate is not playing a drunkard's game.”
The words pinched your chest, sweet and agonizingly sharp. You didn't answer her. You knew that Neteyam is far from your father. Too far your father wouldn't even make the cut for contention, and you felt a little shamed at how you came to a point where you’d aligned him with the likes of your father.
You were sitting by the lower root-pools one day, letting your bare feet dangle in the cool, glowing water while you sorted dried feathers by color when a sudden, heavy thud shook the branch behind you. You haven’t even turned around to see who it was when you heard Lo’ak’s flat voice calling your name. It was completely stripped of its usual teasing lilt.
You tilted your head back, looking up at him. His ears were pulled back slightly, his eyes wide and stormy as he stared down at you with his hands locked firmly on his hips.
“What's wrong with you?” you asked, setting down a blue fiber. “Did your ikran kick you?”
“Why am I hearing from the lower-branch boys that my brother asked your parents for permission to court you?” Lo’ak blurted out, stepping closer, his long tail thrashing behind him in a sharp, agitated arc. “Why am I hearing from the elders at the hearth that you and Neteyam are an ‘intended pair’ under the eye of Eywa? Since when do you and my brother even talk like that?"
You blinked. “Lo’ak... Well, your brother has asked my parents for permission to court me... And he is courting me—”
“And I never heard of this from the two of you? How long had this been going on?” he barked, though he quickly lowered his voice when a group of passing children looked over.
You sighed. “I didn’t tell you because we haven't really talked that way yet, but—”
“No? Oh, what, did he just come up to you one day and was like, ‘hey, I wanna court you—” he was in the middle of his suave reenactment when you groaned.
“No, no! Not like that,” you said. “I don’t know how to explain this to you, Lo, but years ago—”
“Years ago?! Oh, Great Mother! Am I the only one left in the dark about this—”
“Will you listen without cutting me off?!” you snapped, glaring at him and he rolled his eyes, letting himself fall to sit on the nearest root. You sighed, “Well. As I said... Neteyam is courting me. But I haven’t answered it yet.” you said, your eyes falling on the fibers in your hand.
“But you will answer it?” he asked.
Your eyes snapped up to him before you slowly nodded, “Yes,” you answered quickly. “Lo’ak, I will not lie to you. I have longed felt for your brother... I love him...”
He starded at you, his expression softening. “You’re my best friend, Y/NA. We tell each other everything. If you liked him even then, and if you knew he was looking at you differently, why didn't you tell me? Why did I have to find out from the others?”
The hurt in his voice made a heavy wave of guilt settle in your stomach. You reached out, placing a hand on his forearm. “Lo'ak, I swear to you, I was planning to tell you once I have answered Neteyam... You see, a few years ago... something happened, and I thought he was just playing with me. I wanted to test his sincerity...”
Lo’ak stared at the floor as he processed your words. “Perhaps I was just blind... Because, looking back to it all now... I think there had been signs,” he let out a rough huff, shaking his head. “I should have known the first time Neteyam acted all lenient because you were around.”
You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks warmed with that familiar, traitorous violet flush as you remembered. “So... It's cool?” you asked.
“That my best friend and my older brother are going to do yucky stuff to each other? Not really—”
You threw a small pebble his way. “Shut up!” you groaned.
He laughed but then fell silent a few seconds later. “Listen to me,” he said, his tone suddenly turning incredibly serious. “He’s my brother, and I love him, but he’s also a hard-ass. He takes everything too seriously, and he thinks he knows what's best for everyone. If he makes you cry, Y/N... if he does something stupid and uses that Olo’eyktan-in-training excuse to justify it... I don't care if he's the eldest. I'll take his longbow and drop it in the bog.”
A soft, emotional smile curved your lips. “Thank you, Lo'ak.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, standing up and brushing the bark-dust from his legs. “I’m going to go find him now. He owes me a match for keeping this a secret. I’m gonna hit him in the ribs.”
Lo’ak did indeed find Neteyam, but the match didn't go quite as planned. According to Spider, who watched from the high branches, Neteyam had simply taken every single one of Lo'ak's aggressive strikes with a calm, unyielding defense, eventually disarming his younger brother with a swift sweep of his leg.
When Lo'ak lay groaning on the dirt, Neteyam had merely extended a hand, pulling him up before saying quietly, “I did not tell you because I had not earned her yet. I am still working on it.”
And working on it, he really was. You should have known, that to be on the receiving end of his relentless pursuit and focus, meant to have your resistance slowly worn down with every attempt. Even as a child, his focus to get what he wanted, which was the mastery of a warrior, was never weakened by any outside forces like the lure of playground fun.
And now, what he wanted was you and it’s not in him to relent. If anything, as the days lengthened, his devotion only grew more intricate, more deeply woven into the fabric of your daily life.
During the third moon of his courtship, you were assigned to lead the young girls of the clan in the ceremonial dance of the first blossom. It was a complex performance, requiring you to leap on high, narrow branches while keeping your balance on slick, moss-covered bark. You had been practicing for hours, your thighs aching and your fingers raw from holding the coarse training ropes.
When the sun finally dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in deep bruises of violet and orange, you sat alone on the edge of the high platform, rubbing your aching calves with a sigh.
A soft, familiar whistle cut through the quiet air.
You turned and saw Neteyam dropping down from a higher vine, landing with feline grace, no longer wearing his scout gear or his longbow. In his large hand, he carried a small wooden bowl filled with a thick, pale ointment that smelled strongly of crushed mint and wild ginger, the poultice the old healers used to soothe pulled muscles.
“Long day?” he murmured as he sat next to you, his large, calloused hand reached out with an almost terrifying gentleness.
“I told you, Neteyam,” you said, your voice tired, lacking the fierce venom it had carried months ago. “You don’t need to do this.”
His fingers wrapped around your ankle, lifting your foot to rest against his thigh. “Nonsense. I love doing this,” he smirked. “I’ll be doing this for the rest of my life, you know.”
You kicked his hand gently. “You are awfully confident.”
“A man can’t be hopeful now?” He dipped his thick fingers into the cool ointment and began to rub it into your calf.
Your breath caught in your throat as he worked with a meticulous, quiet concentration, his large thumbs tracing the tight knots in your muscles, applying just enough pressure to make you let out a soft, shuddering sigh of relief.
You leaned back on your hands, watching him through the fringe of your lashes. The dimming light caught the high, sharp angles of his cheekbones, the long line of his throat, and the muscular planes of his shoulders. He looked every bit the future leader he was born to be, yet here he was, holding your feet and treating your tired muscles as if they were the most sacred duties of his leadership.
“Neteyam,” you whispered, the quietness of the forest wrapping around you both. “Aren’t you tired?”
Neteyam didn't stop his hands. His thumbs made a slow, soothing circle around your calf before he spoke, “The scout didn’t take that much strength, nor was training the young. I bet you exceeded more energy in your practices—”
“In this courtship, Neteyam,“ you cut him off and his hand on your ankle stopped for a moment.
“Tired of what? I’m having the time of my life,” he said softly. He shifted his grip, his large hand sliding up to rest gently against the side of your knee, his thumb brushing the sensitive skin there. He looked up, his eyes burning with a devastating, quiet ferocity. “I would spend ten more years split-logging the forest if it meant I will have you, but I am not rushing you. I have all the time the Great Mother will give me.”
You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat feeling less like a boulder now and more like a warm, melting knot of wax. You pulled your leg back gently, and this time, he let you go, his hands returning to his lap as he watched you with that same, consuming patience.
In the succeeding moons, all the defenses you had built out of hurt and embarrassment had been worn down to dust by his continuous, unyielding presence. You found yourself looking for him during the communal meals. When he’s out with his scout party, you found yourself standing in the entryway of Hometree, your eyes fixed on the clearing, until the familiar, large silhouette of his direhorse finally broke through thicket.
Today, it was similar, but you were now standing on the high walkways of the roost, looking at the horizon to wait for the large wings of his ikran to fly over the fog when you heard the horn blew, a sharp sound that made your chest seize. Within minutes, the news tore through the high branches: Neteyam’s aerial patrol had run directly into an ambush. They had broken off to aid a Tlalim airship that was being swarmed by savage Mangkwan raiders.
The roost became a blur of movements. Jake, Neytiri, and a group of warriors mounted their ikran, the massive beasts screeching as they dived into the open air. Lo’ak was buckling his chest strap when he caught sight of you running onto the ledge, your hands trembling.
“Hey!” Lo’ak grabbed your shoulders, his eyes wide but steady. “He radioed. He’s fine, don’t you worry. They just needed reinforcement, but Neteyam got it, like always.” He rolled his eyes before mounting his beast, disappearing into the sky with the others.
His words should assure you, but it couldn't stop the suffocating weight that settled over you. For hours, everything was too quiet. You stayed at the high roost, your fingers digging into the rough bark, eyes watching the skies for any movement. Every minute felt like a moon. You thought of his unyielding presence, his quiet smiles, and how foolish you had been to let a single second go to waste.
Finally, the distant, rhythmic thumping of leather wings broke the silence.
The war party returned and as soon as his ikran touched down, you were moving. Neteyam unclipped himself, his body tense, his face and broad shoulders smeared with thick black soot and the dried blood of the raiders. He looked lethal, exhausted but still terrifying.
But the moment his eyes found yours, the hardened warrior vanished. His large steps ate the distance between you and you welcomed him halfway, throwing your arms around his shoulders. Neteyam let out a low, ragged growl, his strong arms instantly wrapping around your waist and pulling your body flush against his chest, lifting you slightly off the ground.
“I was so scared...” you mumbled against his neck, the scent of smoke and rain filling your lungs.
He reared his head back just enough to look at you, but because your arms were locked around his shoulders, your faces were scant inches apart. His eyes were burning with a fierce, possessive intensity while yours dropped to his lips, and the moment you angled your head, Neteyam closed the distance.
His lips came crashing down on yours as if that was the only thing that had kept him alive through the battle. It was instantly deep and devastatingly thorough, as opposed to a tentative and careful kiss you had imagined he would give you once you allowed him to kiss you. You supposed you should have known...
He consumed you, his hands pressing into your back, holding you so close you could feel the frantic, roaring beat of his heart against your own. You kissed until your knees felt hollow and the air left your lungs.
“Oh, come on!” Lo’ak’s loud, groaning voice broke the spell from a few paces away.
You pulled away from Neteyam’s lips and he groaned, his forehead falling against your temple as he murmured curses for his brother. You saw Lo’ak was wiping dirt off his own arm, rolling his eyes dramatically.
“Get a room, you two! This is basically an incestuous view to me!” he barked.
A few nearby hunters chuckled, and your face immediately burned hot. Neteyam moved his face to hide yours, leaving one possessive arm wrapped firmly around your waist. He glared at his younger brother, though a breathless, boyish smile tugged at his lips.
“Go clean yourself, Lo'ak,” Neteyam called back, his voice thick and deep.
Turning back to you, his expression softened back into that soul-stirring tenderness. He gently took your hand, his thumb rubbing the back of your knuckles. “Come,” he murmured, his eyes locked on yours. “Help me wash this off.”
You raised a brow, grabbing his hand to hold it before pulling him away from the bustling roost, heading down the winding ramps and out of the Hometree.
“I was thinking of the root-pools,” he said as he fall into step behind you, but you chuckled and stepped past him.
His large steps ate away at the distance you created, his fingers touching the tip of your tail. You yelped, swatting his hand away as you broke into a sharp laughter and began running away. He chased after you until you reached the bioluminescent river. You threw yourself into the cool water unceremoniously, wading into the deep.
When you broke the surface minutes later, you saw Neteyam a few paces away, having already washed away the ash of the battle, his eyes immediately finding you. You waved your fingers, biting your lips before a shy smile cut through your lips. His head tilted, wading into the water but you backed away, luring him.
“Stop moving away from me,” he said, his deep voice making you breathless.
“Can’t catch me?” you teased, wading further away, relishing the way his eyes darkened at your challenge.
“Let’s see...” he trailed, wading in the water and looking so dangerous you knew he meant to catch you.
You turned and dove into the waters to escape him, but you haven’t made it far when a massive, silhouette loomed over you, and a moment later, a pair of large, fiercely strong arms wrapped securely around your waist, hoisting you to the surface and pulling you back against his broad, solid chest.
“You must never turn your back on your pursuer, beautiful,” he whispered against your ear, his deep baritone vibrating directly through your skin as you gasped for air. His lips immediately began pressing hot, burning kisses along the curve of your shoulder and up the sensitive side of your jaw.
You felt utterly breathless as you laughed, “Maybe I just slowed down so you could catch me,” you said, letting your head fall against his shoulder.
Your knees weakened under the water when you felt his kisses on your neck. He easily maneuvered your body around to face him, his eyes dark with a sudden, heavy hunger.
“How magnanimous of you,” he mumbled before his lips crashed down on yours again, deep and possessive, his tongue sweeping into your mouth with a wild, commanding rhythm.
He waded through the water while your kiss deepened, and before you could even register the shallows, he hooked his hands under your thighs and hoisted you straight up onto the soft, mossy bank.
You yelped at the sudden rush of air, your hands immediately flying to grip both of his thick, muscled forearms for balance. Neteyam didn't give you a second to breathe. He followed you up onto the bank, crowding over your body as his lips crashed down on yours again. The grass pressed against your back as you lied back, your arms naturally wrapping around his neck to pull him down closer, matching his desperate, urgent rhythm.
His large hand cupped the back of your head, his long fingers winding tightly through your damp hair, anchoring you to the earth. You smiled against his lips, whimpering softly as you kissed him harder, more urgent and more desperate.
“Your lips are so soft...” he whispered, pulling back a little, his chest heaving as he stared down at you.
“So then keep kissing me...” you breathed, your fingers tugging at his braids.
“There’s something else I want to do...” he whispered, his voice dropping into a raw, gravelly register that sent a shiver straight down your spine.
You pulled away slightly, your eyes searching his face. “What is it?”
Neteyam swallowed hard, his jaw clenching as he looked down at your body. “I don't know. Maybe it's too early for that...” he murmured.
“It’s probably not as fast as what I'm thinking then,” you said, raising a brow with a teasing, breathless smirk.
“What are you thinking?” he asked, his ears twitching as he looked down at you, momentarily distracted and thoroughly caught off guard by the implication.
“What are you thinking?” you countered, pulling his head down to press a firm, lingering kiss against his lips.
He shook his head, a dark, heavy flush creeping up his neck. “You will be disgusted. Well... I am disgusting. It is disgusting...” he muttered, his deep voice thick with a raw, primal lust that he was desperately trying to fight.
“Try me,” you mumbled, your voice dropping into a quiet challenge. “I want to know. What is it?” You squeezed his shoulders, anchoring him above you.
Neteyam bit his lower lip, his breath hitching as his gaze drifted downward, settling between your thighs. “I want to... I want to touch myself... and come... here,” he whispered hoarsely. As the words left his mouth, his large thumb slid down, pressing firmly through the damp fabric of your loincloth, finding the highly sensitive, swollen center of your heat.
Your breathing hitched in a violent wave of excitement, your eyes lighting up as a hot jolt of electricity shot straight to your core. “Let’s do it,” you whispered without a shred of hesitation. “And by the way... what I wanted was for you to... to put it inside me.” You spoke the last words so quickly, your face burning, that it almost got lost in the rush of the river.
Neteyam froze, choking on his own breath. “To what?”
You bit your lip, your hand shooting down between your bodies to palm him right through his loincloth. A sharp breath hissed out of your own mouth when you felt the immense size of him, entirely rigid and hard against your palm. “I want you to put your... I mean this... inside me.”
His golden eyes darkened into something utterly primal. “I’m trying to be so good, my love,” he groaned, his voice a strained, desperate rasp as his tongue darted out to wet his dry lips. “I want to do things the right way. I want to honor your family...”
“I don’t care. We will be mated soon under Eywa anyway, and we will be doing this for the rest of our lives,” you said, pulling his face down to kiss him fiercely, staring straight into his soul. “You get me?”
He let out a low, breathless chuckle, a deep snort escaping him as his forehead defeatedly hit the crook of your neck. “Yes... yes, I do.”
You angled your face to bite gently at his neck, your hand already moving to his tail to unfasten the intricate ties of his loincloth. “Take it out,” you whispered.
Neteyam didn't need to be told twice. With a low growl, he stripped away his loincloth and quickly reached down to shed yours away. He shifted his weight, kneeling between your thighs, his towering frame casting a massive, protective shadow over you. You were too busy looking at his hard length that you were uncaring of him firmly pressing your thighs apart, exposing your bare, glistening heat to the cool night air.
You saw his large frame stoop down, his head aiming for your center and your thighs instinctively threatened to shut close, but his hands were holding it so strongly you couldn't even move when his lips pressed against your softness. He groaned against the folds as his mouth opened to kiss it as he kissed your lips.
“Neteyam...” you groaned, bucking your hips, but he only coupled his lips with his tongue to lap at your wetness.
A few swipes and the folds parted to give him more of what he desires. You grabbed a handful of his braids when he suckled on your sensitive nub before his tongue licked another swipe from bottom to top, doing all of it instinctively as his own hand gripped his girth to stop himself from spilling prematurely.
He was trying so hard to hold out, but you taste so fucking good he can’t even think properly anymore. He gave himself a few pumps as he sucked and licked at your softness, occasionally nipping at your velvety folds, letting himself indulge in the sounds of pleasure you were making.
Your thighs were already trembling when he surfaced, kissing your thighs as he did. You were gasping for breath when he towered between your legs again, gripping his length, thick, heavy, and already crowned with drops of his own desire. He began to stroke himself right above you.
You watched, completely transfixed, your chest heaving as he pumped his hand up and down the length of his shaft. And this sight of him, the golden boy, the perfect, disciplined heir of the clan, completely unraveled, his jaw clenched, his hand working frantically on himself as he looked down at your naked body, was the hottest thing you had ever witnessed.
“Oh, baby...” he gasped out, his pace quickening until his entire body began to tremble with the oncoming release.
He let out a loud, guttural groan, his free hand grabbing the back of your thigh to push your knee back almost to your chest, exposing your pussy to him even more. You watched with wide, heavy-lidded eyes as he came directly onto your bare pussy, the thick, white heat of his release splattering warm against your sensitive skin.
You watched the essence come out of him in spurts and how he guided the wide head of his cock to part your folds, nudging at your entrance so he could spill inside you, too.Your hips bucked slightly at the sheer sensation, a soft whine escaping your throat as the warmth coated you every where. Neteyam’s chest heaved violently as he rode out the final, trembling waves of his release, his hand shaking against your thigh.
For a few seconds, the only sound was the rushing river and his ragged breathing. His eyes were busy watching you, darker and more intense than before. The edge of his release had cleared the frantic desperation from his mind, leaving only a deep, calculated hunger.
“This is so much better than all of my fantasies...” he croaked, leaning down to kiss you.
His large hands gripped your hips, lifting your firmly and ploppling you on his thighs. He was still incredibly thick, already hardening again as he aligned the tip of his length against your wet, coated opening. His arm wrapped securely around you, while the other held your waist. With a slow, possessive push, he slid in, careful not to hurt you.
But you were too impatient. You held onto his large bicep and pulled yourself up a little before you decidedly impaled yourself completely on his length. A deep groan left his chest as your heat tightly enveloped him, mingling with your sharp moan.
“Fuck,” his hand on your waist sought to pull you away but you wrapped your arms around his shoulder and ground your hips against his.
He caressed your back instead, his lips pressing soft kisses on your jaw and neck, distracting you from the throbbing discomfort of the stretch. It took a while of just you moving your hips in small circles against him, getting yourself comfortable, before you actually moved differently. Neteyam let out a fractured, warning growl into the crook of your neck as you ground your hips against his, the raw heat of your center completely swallowing him whole. He tried to hold still, his large hands anchoring your waist with a bruising grip to keep you from moving further, but the tight, pulsing squeeze of your walls was driving him insane.
“Wait,” he gasped, his forehead dropping against your shoulder as he forced his breath to slow. “Let me... let you get used to it, baby.”
“I am used to it,” you whimpered, your fingers digging into the thick muscles of his back, urging him to move. The slight ache of the stretch was already melting away, replaced by an demanding, empty itch that only he could fill. “Please...”
That was his breaking point. The last of his rigid restraint snapped like a brittle vine, and with a low, possessive grunt, his hands shifted from your waist to the backs of your thighs, pulling your legs up before sending a devastating, relentless rhythm of his hips rolling into yours with a heavy force.
Every upward thrust of his hips was deep and unyielding, his hard length sliding against your sensitivity. A loud, shameless moan tore from your throat when you felt his rough thumb rub the sensitive nub he had suckled just minutes earlier. Neteyam caught the sound with his own mouth, leaning down to capture your lips in a messy, bruising kiss, his tongue mirroring the deep, frantic rhythm of his lower body.
“I love you so much, baby...” he murmured against your lips.
“I love you, Neteyam...” you moaned, deepening the kiss.
The pace then became animalistic, stripped of all the careful gentleness of his courtship. His chest heaved against yours, the smooth skin of his torso slick with sweat and river water as he drove himself into you over and over, burying his length completely into you until the wet sounds from where you were connected were in contention with the rush of the river.
“Neteyam... Neteyam!” you cried out, your vision fracturing into white streaks as the tension tightly coiled in your stomach suddenly snapped. Your walls clamped down around him in violent, rhythmic spasms, a heavy wave of pleasure crashing through your entire body.
The intense, crushing squeeze of your climax was the final trigger he couldn't fight. Neteyam let out a loud, guttural groan as his fingers dug into the soft grass beneath you. He thrusted deeply one last time, pinning your hips flat against the grass as his own release tore through him, spilling his hot, thick essence deep inside your core in heavy spurts.
He trembled violently above you, his muscles locking up before he slowly collapsed forward, burying his face in the damp hollow of your neck. His breath came in ragged, burning gasps, his chest heaving against yours as you both rode out the lingering waves of your high.
For a long time, neither of you moved. The only sounds were the gentle lapping of the river against the bank and the rhythmic hum of the forest life. Neteyam remained buried deeply inside you, his heavy frame relaxed but still fiercely protective, shielding your bare skin from the cooling evening air.
He shifted slightly, letting out a soft, contented purr as he nuzzled his nose against your jawline, trailing lazy, wet kisses up to your ear.
“We will mate tomorrow... Can’t risk you hitting your head and running for the hills once you grasp just how crazy I am about you,” he murmured, his voice incredibly deep and hoarse from all the groaning.
You let out a weak, breathless chuckle, your fingers idly tangling into the loose braids near his neck. “I don't think I have the strength to run even if I wanted to, Neteyam. You completely ruined my legs.”
He snorted, a boyish, rumbling laugh vibrating through his chest as he finally pulled back just enough to look down at your face. His eyes were soft now, completely clear and filled with a warmth that made your chest ache. He raised a hand, his large thumb gently wiping away a stray tear from the corner of your eye.
“You know,” he murmured, a thoughtful, lazy smile tugging at his lips, “I was actually planning to play with you all here years ago... When I came to tell Kiri and Lo’ak to go back for Mo’at’s rituals.”
You smiled a little, “When I used goggles for the first time in my life and you came to tell everyone the party’s over?”
He let out a deep laughter, “See? I knew I was bad news to everybody! I bet I made a really bad first impression on you...“
You pushed your lips forward. “You were really serious, even then... So I didn't know how to act.” You pulled his face down for a kiss. “But things change anyway...”
He a raised a brow, “Mine didn’t. I liked you the first time I saw you,” he mused, his eyes feasting on your features. “Even then, I knew I wouldn't see you simply as a friend. My siblings are stirring up trouble again and I couldn't take my eyes off you. It actually annoyed the hell out of me.” He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.
“Annoyed you?” you questioned, blinking in surprise.
“Yes,” he admitted, a faint purple flush creeping into his own cheeks. "I was supposed to be playing the big brother role, interrogating my siblings about what they are abouy to do, but all I could think about was how cute you looked. Your ears were twitching, and you're trying to look everywhere but inside the house... Suddenly, I understood why boys my age had crushes.”
A soft, emotional warmth bloomed in your chest. You bit your lip, looking up at his handsome face, realizing just how long he had carried that quiet awareness of you.
“Well...” you mumbled, shifting your hips slightly beneath his, enjoying the way his breath hitched at the small movement. “If it makes you feel any better, you were secretly my crush anyway.”
Neteyam’s ears gave a sharp, skeptical flick, and he narrowed his golden eyes at you, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. “Nice try, beautiful. But I call you out on that.”
“It's true!” you protested, swatting his shoulder.
“It definitely is,” he countered smoothly, leaning down until his nose brushed against yours. “I was incredibly aware of you, Y/N. If you had looked at me with even a fraction of a crush, I would have known. You were always so quiet and formal around me, acting like I was just the strict older brother who was going to report you to my father.”
“Because I was terrified of you!” you confessed, your voice rising in a defensive laugh. “You were always so perfect and disciplined, standing right next to the Olo'eyktan. And besides, I had absolutely no one to tell! All the girls in the high branches were constantly whispering about how strong and handsome you are, and my only friends were your siblings. What was I supposed to do? Go up to Lo'ak and say, ‘Hey, I think your older brother is so hot’? He would have teased me until the next eclipse!”
Neteyam quieted down, his smirk softening into a look of pure, unadulterated tenderness as he listened to you ramble. He leaned down, catching your lips in a slow, sweet kiss that cut off your frantic explanations.
“You really thought that?” he whispered against your lips.
“Of course I did,” you murmured, your eyes melting into his. “There was no one else better than you, Neteyam. There never has been. You were the only one I wanted to look at.”
A deep, rolling purr erupted from his chest at your confession, a sound of absolute, victorious satisfaction. He tightened his arms around you, pulling you as close as physically possible, burying his face back into your neck as the bioluminescent plants around the riverbank began to glow brighter in the deepening night.
Lying there on the soft moss, connected and warm, the painful memories of the past years finally felt like a distant, faded dream. There is, indeed, no perfect timeline, and as he held you in the quiet dark of the forest, he knew that the future he had spent years yearning for was finally, beautifully alive.
Great Mother, I finally have her, he thought solemnly.
So'lek x fem!avatar driver reader inspired by Tsumuke written by @lvlypinkesworld
Part 12 > Part 13 > Part 13.5
Hearts Cannot Lie
Louis De Luca surfaced from unconsciousness slowly. Pain arrived first. A deep ache radiating through his ribs and shoulder. Then came the strange sensation of warmth. Soft light. Voices somewhere nearby.
For one glorious, delirious moment he genuinely thought he'd died. The last thing he remembered was fire. Smoke. The Scorpion going down.
Then that giant blue alien dragging him from the wreckage.
So naturally his first thought upon opening his eyes was—Well... heaven is nicer than I expected.
An angel hovered above him. Golden light from the resistance medbay lamps framed her features. Soft eyes focused intently on a monitor. Hair falling forward slightly as she adjusted something beside his bed.
Louis stared.
The angel frowned at a scanner. Made a note. Checked his IV. Then glanced down. Their eyes met.
The angel blinked once. "Oh." That was disappointingly un-angelic. "You are awake." Her voice was quiet. Almost startlingly quiet. Not cold. Just reserved.
Louis opened his mouth. Nothing came out except a croak.
The angel immediately held a cup toward him. "Small sips."
He obeyed.
Because she sounded like she expected people to obey. Not demanding. Just matter of fact.
Louis drank. The water helped. A little.
Then she checked the bandages around his shoulder. Looked at a monitor. Made another note.
And before Louis could think of a single clever thing to say—
She nodded to herself. "Good."
Then she turned And left. Just... Left. Louis stared after her.
A few moments later another figure walked over. Another woman carrying a medical tablet. "Well." She looked relieved. "That is a good sign."
Louis blinked. "Who..." His voice still sounded awful.
The woman smiled slightly. "I'm Nalin. Doctor around here."
Louis nodded weakly. Then pointed vaguely toward the door. "The angel."
Nalin stared. "The what?"
"Who was that? The one who was just here."
Realization dawned. "Oh." Nalin snorted softly. "That was (Y/n)."
Nalin laughed. "Not officially. But she has a habit of collecting medical knowledge."
Louis frowned slightly. "She saved me?"
Nalin pulled over a chair. "You were in rough shape. The Scorpion crash nearly killed you."
Louis absorbed that quietly. Fragments of memory returning. The smoke. The impact. The panic. Then that enormous blue alien hauling him bodily from the wreckage. "Big blue guy?"
Nalin immediately knew who he meant. "Tamtey.”
"Yeah. He got you out."
Louis nodded slowly. Then glanced toward the closed door again. "And her?"
Nalin smiled faintly. "She helped stabilize you."
Louis expected some heroic story.
Instead Nalin shrugged. "Checked your injuries. Started treatment. Saved your life. Then immediately returned to whatever research she was working on."
That sounded oddly anticlimactic. "That's it?"
"Pretty much."
Louis stared. "She didn't even introduce herself."
"That sounds like (Y/n)."
Nalin leaned back in her chair. "She isn't great with new people. Or old people. Or people in general."
Louis laughed weakly despite the pain. Then his gaze drifted toward the entrance once more. The brief interaction replaying in his head. The quiet voice. The way she'd simply confirmed he wasn't dying and then vanished back to work. No grand speech. No dramatic introduction. No expectation of thanks. Just helping because someone needed help.
Then moving on.
Strange. For someone he'd only seen for perhaps thirty seconds—She seemed oddly memorable.
Meanwhile elsewhere in the resistance base, completely unaware she had become the subject of conversation, (Y/n) sat surrounded by notebooks and samples in her makeshift lab.
Perfectly content.
Because as far as she was concerned— The patient was stable. Which meant she could get back to work.
(Y/n) sat in the middle of what had gradually become her temporary workspace. Scraps of fabric. Needles. Tools. Several pieces of So'lek's gear spread across the table in front of her. Right next to her chemistry equipment. One of his metal vests sat partially disassembled while she repaired worn straps and reinforced sections that had started fraying from years of use. Beside it lay several rifle slings she'd quietly confiscated after deciding they were falling apart.
A rolling chair allowed her to glide between workstations without having to stand every few minutes.
Officially she was still taking it easy.
Unofficially she had simply found a different way to stay busy.
Conversations drifted through the resistance base around her. People moving. Equipment humming. The normal sounds of daily life.
Nearby Raj was being introduced to one of the newest arrivals to the resistance.
Louis. The recently defected rda grunt.
(Y/n) paid little attention. Not out of rudeness. But because was currently concentrating on stitching a particularly stubborn tear in one of So'lek's straps when footsteps stopped beside her workspace.
"And this is (Y/n)," Priya said.
Louis glanced over. She looked exactly as he'd remembered. Only this time she wasn't hovering over him while he was half dead. She was seated in a rolling chair surrounded by equipment, entirely focused on her work.
"You've already met her."
"She's one of the medics around here, well not just a medic she does lots of things."
(Y/n) glanced up briefly. Nodded once. Then immediately returned to sewing.
Priya sighed. "Oh, come on."
(Y/n) didn't look up.
"He's new. Please at least say hello."
The needle paused.
(Y/n) looked up. "Hello." Then she immediately returned to repairing the vest.
Louis stared at her curiously.
Priya pinched the bridge of her nose. "(y/n).”
“I said hello."
"That’s not even three whole words."
"I am exceeding expectations, you gave him the rundown of what I do, what else do you want me to say?"
Louis couldn't help it. A small laugh escaped him.
The comment earned him the briefest hint of amusement from (Y/n) before she returned to work.
Priya gestured toward the workspace. "This is actually unusual."
"It is?"
Priya nodded. "(Y/n) is usually somewhere in the forest tending to sick or injured animals. I genuinely cannot remember the last time she spent this much time inside base."
That earned Priya a flat look. (Y/n) didn't even stop sewing. Just glanced at her. Then went back to work.
Priya smiled innocently.
Then something changed.
Louis noticed it immediately.
Because the woman who had barely acknowledged their existence suddenly brightened.
The doors at the far end of the base opened and closed. Footsteps followed.
(Y/n)'s entire expression softened.
Louis glanced toward the corridor.
A few moments later So'lek rounded the corner. The large Na'vi warrior immediately spotted them. Or rather— He immediately spotted her.
"Ah." Priya grinned. "Perfect timing."
She motioned Louis forward.
"So'lek, come meet Louis."
The warrior's attention shifted away from (Y/n) long enough to acknowledge him.
"He's new." Priya gestured to So’lek— "This is So'lek. One of our Navi allies."
Louis offered a nod.
So'lek returned one. Brief. Polite.
Then immediately walked around them. Straight toward (Y/n).
Louis watched the entire interaction carefully. The warrior stopped beside her workspace. Looked over the gear spread across the table. Then looked down at her.
And something in his expression changed. Softened. Not much. Just enough to be difference to his normal stiff look. The sort of look people only gave someone they deeply cared about. "You are meant to be resting."
(Y/n) rolled her eyes immediately. "I am sitting down."
"You are working."
"I am repairing your equipment."
"You are still working."
"It does not count."
"It counts."
"It does not."
"It does."
Louis hid his reaction well. Years in the military had taught him that. But he saw it. The way her shoulders relaxed around him.
The way his attention remained fixed on her. The ease between them.
And immediately a single thought crossed his mind. Please don't tell me they're together.
Because if they weren't— They were certainly heading in that direction.
Priya noticed Louis watching. Then she grabbed his shoulder. "Come on."
Louis blinked. "What?"
"There's still people to meet."
He cast one last glance back.
Priya practically dragged Louis away. Leaving the two of them behind. Still bickering. Still entirely focused on each other.
So'lek looked over the vest spread across the table, his fingers brushing over one of the freshly repaired straps. The stitching was neat. Careful. Strong. Much better than his own repairs usually were.
"Has Alma left you alone today?" he asked quietly.
(Y/n) glanced up from where she was trimming a loose thread. "Yes." The answer came easily enough. "I've just been here, being a busy."
Something in his chest eased slightly. Good. He had spent most of the morning wondering if Alma would seek her out again. Wondering if he'd return to find her retreating into herself once more. Instead, she'd spent the day surrounded by thread, tools. His gaze drifted over the equipment. "You did not need to mend these for me."
(Y/n) shrugged. "I know. But I wanted to help you out." Her fingers continued working while she spoke. "You're always busy." The next stitch. "Taking care of me." Another stitch. "Patrolling." A knot tied off. "Taking down RDA bases." Only then did she glance up at him. A small smile appearing. "It's the least I can do."
For a moment So'lek simply looked at her. Sweet. Kind. Always finding ways to help others. Even when she herself had barely recovered.
The smile that appeared on his face was soft enough that Louis, watching from across the room, nearly walked into a table.
Fortunately, Priya redirected him before he could embarrass himself.
Back at the workstation, (Y/n) brightened suddenly. "Oh. I do have good news."
So'lek's attention returned fully to her. "What is it?"
"Nalin says by the end of the week I should be able to link again."
The excitement in her voice was immediate. "Genuinely link. Not just a few minutes. I can go back to the sanctuary." Her smile widened. "Get back to work."
So'lek sighed. The last part was exactly what he'd expected. Yet he found himself smiling anyway because he knew what she truly meant. Back to the creatures she'd worried about endlessly from inside the base.
"You have been taking Ulrr out to forage?" She asked.
"Yes."
"And the pups?"
"The pups are learning scents. They are also learning how to tear open carcasses without assistance."
"They would have enjoyed that lesson."
"Yes, they did."
Her expression softened. Because she'd been worried. Worried about Ulrr. Worried about the pups. Worried about all the creatures she'd been forced to leave behind.
"I really cannot thank you enough." The sincerity in her voice made him look away briefly. As though embarrassed by the gratitude.
He'd merely done what needed doing.
The same way she always did.
Then he held out a hand. "Come."
(Y/n) blinked. "Where are we going?"
"Out of here."
She looked around the base. Then back at him. "What is wrong with here?"
"You have spent the entire day inside."
"I have a chair."
"You need sunlight."
She looked genuinely unconvinced. "I have lamps."
So'lek stared at her.
(Y/n) sighed. "Damn it."
A small victory. The warrior's mouth twitched. Then softened. "A walk in the sunlight."
She looked down at the half-finished repairs. Then at him. Then at the doorway. Followed him.
The smile that crossed his face afterward was worth every moment of stubborn resistance.
Louis was beginning to develop a problem. Specifically— Every person he asked seemed determined to confirm his worst suspicions. After watching So'lek all but abandon a conversation to immediately go check on (Y/n), Louis had decided further investigation was necessary.
Purely professional investigation. Absolutely nothing else.
His first victim was Jin. The man was repairing equipment when Louis approached. "So."
Jin glanced up.
"What's the deal with big blue and (Y/n)?"
Jin blinked. Then immediately laughed. "Big blue?"
"The giant Na'vi."
"Oh. So’lek" Jin shrugged. "I don't know."
That was not the answer Louis expected. "You don't?"
"No." Jin went back to tightening a bolt. "(Y/n) is pretty quiet. Mostly keeps to herself. But she talks to the Sarentu. And So'lek."
"Honestly, if you want answers, ask them."
Louis did not particularly want to ask So'lek. That sounded dangerous. So he moved on. His next target was Anqa. She was organizing supplies when he found her. "Question."
Anqa immediately looked wary. "That usually means trouble."
"What's going on between So'lek and (Y/n)?"
Anqa froze. Then smiled. A knowing smile.
Louis already disliked it.
"I try not to pry." That was not a denial. "But?" Anqa's smile widened. "But everyone can tell they're sweet on each other."
Louis maintained a perfectly neutral expression. Internally however— How? How had the sweet quiet angel who saved his life ended up attached to a giant blue warrior? The math wasn't mathing. At all. "Everyone?"
Anqa nodded. "Everyone."
Louis frowned. "They aren't together?"
Anqa laughed. "They certainly aren't acting like strangers."
Louis immediately thought about the way So'lek looked at her. The way she visibly brightened when he walked into a room. The way he'd practically hovered around her since arriving. His neutral expression became significantly more strained.
"Maybe they're just friends."
Anqa's smile somehow became even more knowing. "Oh I think they’re past that stage." That response filled Louis with dread.
A short time later he found himself sitting beside Raj. "Please tell me they're not together."
Raj looked up from his work. "Who?"
"So'lek and (Y/n)."
Raj immediately started laughing.
Louis felt betrayed. "That's not an answer."
Raj wiped his eyes. "No. They aren't together."
Relief. Sweet relief.
Then Raj continued. "Yet."
The relief died instantly.
Raj grinned. "They're hopeless."
Louis groaned. This was becoming a nightmare. “Thanks Raj.”
Louis leaned back against a wall and stared at the ceiling. There had to be somebody reasonable around here. Somebody who would tell him everyone was reading too much into things.
Unfortunately—The next person he decided to ask was Tamtey. Which was about to make everything significantly worse. Louis eventually found Tamtey near one of the landing platforms tending to his ikran's harness. He looked up as Louis approached. "Settling in alright?"
"Yeah." Louis leaned casually against one of the supports. At least casually enough that he hoped it looked natural.
There was a brief silence. Then he asked "So what's going on between So'lek and (Y/n)?"
Tamtey immediately stopped what he was doing.Slowly. Very slowly. He looked up. Then glanced around. Then back at Louis. The expression alone made Louis nervous. "You did not hear this from me because (y/n) may poison my tea from gossiping.”
Louis immediately leaned in.
Tamtey lowered his voice dramatically despite nobody being remotely nearby. "They have not made anything official."
Louis felt a small amount of relief.
Then Tamtey continued. "(Y/n) would probably die of embarrassment if anyone actually said it aloud."
The relief disappeared.
"But..." His grin widened. "Yeah. "They are basically joined at the hip."
Louis sighed. Of course. Of course that was the answer.
Tamtey chuckled. "You should have seen So'lek after her seizure."
Louis noticed the way the warrior's expression softened slightly.
"He was miserable."
"And her?" Tamtey laughed. "She pretends she is subtle but anyone with eyes can see her adorable smile."
The answer told Louis everything. Because everyone else had apparently reached the same conclusion. Neither of them had officially said anything.
But everyone knew. Everyone.
Tamtey studied him curiously. "Why the interest?"
Louis immediately straightened. "Oh. Uh."
A perfectly reasonable explanation needed to be found immediately.
"It's just..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "She's kind of the only person I haven't really talked to since arriving. I wanted to get to know her better.”
Which was technically true.
Tamtey nodded immediately. "Oh."
That explanation made complete sense to him. No suspicion whatsoever. "Yeah, she's like that."
Louis blinked. "Like what?"
"Quiet."
Tamtey shrugged. "If she doesn't know someone she usually keeps to herself. Trust me she all but told me to go away when we first met."
"So don’t sweat it."
"She'll talk to you eventually."
"Probably."
The confidence on that last word was not particularly reassuring.
Tamtey returned to adjusting the harness.
"Usually people just sort of..."He gestured vaguely. “...end up around her."
"What does that mean?"
"I don't know."
Tamtey grinned. "One day you don't know her."
"The next day you're drinking tea while she explains medicinal plants and somehow you've become friends."
Louis found himself smiling despite himself. That sounded oddly believable.
"Give it time." Tamtey tightened one final strap. "If she likes you she'll start talking."
"And if she doesn't?"
Tamtey thought about it. "Then you'll get a lot of 'hello' and three-word conversations."
Louis winced. That sounded familiar.
Tamtey laughed. " You're currently getting three-word conversations."
"That obvious?"
"Very."
Tamtey clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't worry. She just needs time to warm up to you, she’s really nice.”
He hoped Tamtey was right, maybe he needed to try getting her to talk about her interests, open up.
That would work… right?
(Y/n) hated admitting it. Absolutely hated it. Because So'lek had been right.
The walk had helped. The fresh air. The sunlight filtering through the canopy. The distant sounds of the forest.
The absence of walls.
It felt good. Really good.
Unfortunately she would never tell him that. Not if she wanted to preserve even a shred of dignity.
So she walked beside him through the forest, hands tucked into her pockets, enjoying herself considerably more than she intended.
Meanwhile So'lek was driving her insane. The warrior's eyes never stopped moving. Scanning. Checking. Watching.
Every sound. Every shadow. Every movement.
Nothing escaped his attention.
At one point he stopped entirely because a branch snapped somewhere in the distance.
(Y/n) nearly walked into him. "What?"
He listened. The forest fell silent.
Nothing happened.
Then they continued walking.
Three minutes later he did it again.
(Y/n) sighed dramatically."You know there is nothing out here that is going to jump me."
His eyes never left the treeline. "You cannot be sure of that."
"I can."
"No."
"Yes."
Finally he looked down at her. "No."
The answer came with enough conviction that she almost laughed. "Why are you like this?"
"You recently had a seizure."
"That was weeks ago."
"You were unconscious."
"I woke up."
"You almost died."
"I did not."
His stare suggested that was entirely beside the point.
(Y/n) groaned. "There are no thanator dens nearby."
He was silent
"No RDA patrol routes."
Still silent.
"No hostile clans."
Still silence.
She pointed around them. "The most dangerous thing out here is probably you."
That earned a look. A very unimpressed look.
"I am serious."
"So am I."
(Y/n) threw her hands into the air. "You can relax."
So'lek genuinely did not think he could. Not anymore. Because every time he looked at her in this body he was reminded how fragile it was. How small she was. How easily injured.
The realization never quite left him.
Not after the seizure. Not after reading what was in those old notebooks. Not after seeing her cry.
And perhaps worst of all— He knew exactly how vulnerable humans could be.
Because once upon a time he had killed many of her kind. Seen what bullets did. Seen how easily bones broke. Seen how quickly a human life could end.
He knew exactly how durable Na'vi were. And exactly how durable humans were not.
The comparison haunted him.
Because even something as simple as the air around them reminded him that she was constantly in danger.
The mask resting over her face. One piece of damaged equipment. One accident. One mistake.
And suddenly the very air became dangerous.
The thought alone made his stomach tighten.
Meanwhile (Y/n) remained blissfully unaware of the spiraling protectiveness happening beside her.
"I am safe." She nudged his arm lightly. "Because you're right here."
The simple certainty in her voice stopped him.
His gaze lowered toward her.
She smiled.
Completely unaware of what that did to him.
Because she said it so casually.Like it was obvious.Like of course she was safe with him nearby.
And suddenly So'lek found himself unable to argue.
So he settled for placing a large hand briefly against the top of her head. A gesture halfway between affection and exasperation. "You worry me."
(Y/n) immediately grinned. "Good."
"I am serious."
"I know."
The grin only widened.
And despite the constant urge to wrap her in enough protective gear to survive a direct missile strike—A reluctant smile appeared on his face.
Because she was happy.
Then So'lek's earpiece crackled. He immediately raised a hand to it.
Priya. The concern in her voice was immediate. "So'lek, we've had reports of an RDA patrol operating close to one of the northern field labs."
His expression hardened instantly. The relaxed warrior disappeared. Replaced by the soldier.
"We think they're scouting."
"We would appreciate it if you could investigate."
So'lek glanced toward (Y/n). Then toward the distant forest. "I am on my way."
The channel clicked off. Silence followed.
(Y/n) already knew what he was thinking. "No."
His eyes narrowed. "No?"
"You are not escorting me back."
The warrior folded his arms. "I can return you to base first."
"By the time you do that the patrol could be gone."
His jaw tightened. She was right. Unfortunately. "I will walk back with you."
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
She laughed. "Do you genuinely think I cannot walk through the forest without dying?"
"Yes."
(Y/n) stared at him. "That is incredibly rude."
"It is accurate."
"It is not."
"You are fragile."
She groaned. "I survived before you came along."
"Barely."
"I was doing fine."
"The seizure would suggest otherwise."
"That was unrelated."
"It still happened."
(Y/n) pointed toward the path leading back toward the resistance. "So'lek."
"What?"
"There are no thanators."
Silence.
"No RDA patrols."
Silence.
"No hostile wildlife."
Silence.
"No cliffs."
Still silence.
She threw her hands into the air. "What exactly do you think is going to happen?"
His expression remained entirely serious. "Something."
That somehow made her laugh harder. Eywa help her. He genuinely meant it.
Finally she stepped forward and placed a hand against his arm. The gesture immediately stole his attention. "I will be fine."
The smile she gave him was warm. "You have RDA to go terrorize."
His expression remained unconvinced.
"I can handle a short walk."
A long pause followed.
Then finally. Reluctantly—So'lek nodded. "I do not like this."
"I know."
"You will return directly to base."
"Yes."
"You will not wander off."
"I won't."
"You will call if anything happens."
"I will."
"You—"
(Y/n) laughed and gently pushed his arm. "Go."
The warrior looked like he wanted to argue some more.
Instead he stepped closer.
His hand briefly touched her shoulder. Lingering. Just for a moment.
Then he nodded. "You be careful."
She smiled. The irony almost killed her. "Me?"
"Yes."
"You're literally going to investigate armed soldiers."
"And you are walking through a forest."
"Exactly. Make sure you don't get shot."
The corner of his mouth twitched. "I will try."
"You better."
Then he turned. The dogtag warrior disappearing into the forest with the same haunting quietness that made him so dangerous.
(Y/n) watched him go until the trees swallowed him completely. Then she smiled to herself. Shook her head. And started the walk back toward the resistance.
Completely unaware that So'lek looked back three separate times before finally continuing toward the northern field lab.
(Y/n) stepped back into the resistance base feeling considerably lighter than she had that morning.
The walk had done her good. The sunlight. The absence of walls.
And admittedly—Spending time with So'lek.
She was already mentally sorting through what needed repairing next when a voice appeared beside her.
"Hey."
(Y/n) glanced up briefly.
Louis.
Then immediately looked away and continued walking.
Louis cleared his throat. Trying again. "We didn't really get a chance to talk much."
No answer. Not because she was trying to be rude. Quite the opposite.
Her mind was already cycling through a dozen possibilities.
What if she said something wrong? What if she offended him? What if he misunderstood something? What if he got angry?
What if—
Safer to say nothing.
So she simply continued toward her workstation.
Louis followed. "Priya said you work with animals."
That earned a small nod.
"What's that like?"
(Y/n) sat down in her chair and immediately began organizing the equipment she'd left behind. Needles. Thread. Straps. Tools.
"It's nice." Then silence again.
Louis tried another approach. "What are you fixing?"
She looked down. "So'lek's gear."
"Oh. "You're good with this stuff?"
A nod. "Mostly."
The conversation should have ended there.
Instead Louis continued. "What about all this?"
He gestured toward another table covered in vials and glassware. Chemistry equipment. Research notes. Dried plant samples.
(Y/n)'s shoulders tightened slightly. "Research."
"What kind?"
"Medical."
"What are you researching?"
Her skin was beginning to crawl. Not because he'd done anything terrible. Because he kept asking. Question after question. Standing close. Expecting answers.
And she didn't know him. Didn't know what kind of person he was. Didn't know if one wrong response would offend him. Didn't know if he was joking or serious or impatient or kind.
Years of experience had taught her something unfortunate. People were unpredictable.
Meanwhile Louis interpreted the silence as encouragement to keep trying.
"So did you learned medicine from Nalin?"
"Some."
"How long have you been on Pandora?"
"Years."
"Do you always—"
Thankfully Ri'nela appeared. The younger Sarentu took one look at the situation.
One look at (Y/n). And immediately understood.
Because while most people saw quietness—Ri'nela knew the difference between quiet and uncomfortable.
(Y/n)'s shoulders were tense. Her answers were getting shorter. And she was beginning to look desperately at her work like it might rescue her.
So Ri'nela stepped in without hesitation. "(Y/n)!"
The healer looked up immediately. Relief flashed across her face so quickly it almost hurt. "Yes?"
"I need help."
Ri'nela smiled brightly. "Right now."
(Y/n) stood so quickly her chair nearly rolled away. "Oh." Of course."
Louis blinked. "What?"
Ri'nela nodded seriously. "It is very important."
(Y/n) didn't even question it. She immediately began gathering her things.
Louis looked between them. "Oh. Okay."
Ri'nela smiled politely. "We'll see you later."
Then promptly grabbed (Y/n)'s arm and steered her away.
Only once they were safely around the corner did Ri'nela slow down.
"Thank you."
Ri'nela smiled. "He was making you uncomfortable."
(Y/n) looked down.
"A little."
"You could have told him."
"I know." But that was easier said than done.
Ri'nela squeezed her arm gently.
"Come, I was reading this tea recipe in your notebook and couldn’t read the scibble."
That finally earned a smile.
And together they disappeared deeper into the resistance base while Louis stood back at the workstation wondering what exactly had just happened.
But he didn’t want to give up, he’d get her talking to him on way or another.
The patrol had been nothing. A handful of RDA scouts. Nothing worth reporting beyond a routine sighting.
So'lek returned to the resistance base in a far better mood than he'd left it. Until he stepped into the kitchen.
Immediately his eyes found her.
(Y/n) sat at one of the tables with her dinner pushed slightly to one side while she scribbled notes in one of her ever-present notebooks. Half-eaten food. Notebook open. Pen moving.
Some things never changed.
Then he noticed Louis.
The human sat in the chair beside her. Far too close.
At least in So'lek's opinion.
The man was talking. Quite enthusiastically.
(Y/n) was not.
She nodded occasionally. Made small noises of acknowledgment. Then went right back to her notebook.
Louis kept trying. Question after question. Comment after comment. Trying to start a conversation. Trying to keep it going.
And the more So'lek watched— The less he liked it.
Not because Louis had actually done anything wrong.
Because of her. Over the past weeks he'd learned her tells. The little things most people missed. The way she became quieter when uncomfortable. How her shoulders subtly drew inward. How she'd angle herself away from someone without realizing it. How she'd suddenly become very interested in whatever task was in front of her.
And right now?
She was practically trying to climb into her notebook. Then she shuffled slightly. Moving her chair away.
Louis unconsciously moved closer to continue the conversation.
Something inside So'lek immediately disliked that. Strongly. The feeling settled somewhere deep in his chest.
He simply knew one thing. She wanted space.
And Louis wasn't seeing it.
So'lek walked straight toward the table.
The moment (Y/n) looked up and saw him her entire expression changed. The tension disappeared. Her shoulders relaxed.
The small smile that appeared looked suspiciously like relief.
Honestly she looked like she wanted to launch herself directly at him.
That alone told him everything he needed to know.
Without a word So'lek stopped beside her. Large enough that he cast a shadow over half the table.
Louis looked up. "Oh hey."
So'lek nodded once.
Then his attention shifted entirely to (Y/n). "Have you finished your meal?"
(Y/n) blinked. Then glanced down guiltily at the half-finished tray. "...Almost."
The warrior looked unconvinced. "You are working while eating again."
"It helps me think."
"It prevents you from eating."
"I am eating."
"You are writing."
Louis watched the exchange. And immediately noticed something. The conversation flowed. Naturally. Easily.
(Y/n) answered So'lek.
And she argued with him. Rolled her eyes. Made faces. All the things Louis had spent the day unsuccessfully trying to get from her.
"So what are you working on?" Louis tried.
Neither of them seemed to hear him.
"So'lek, I am perfectly capable of eating and writing."
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
Louis tried again. "Is that research?"
Nothing.
The conversation continued uninterrupted.
"So'lek."
"(Y/n)."
Louis frowned slightly. Then attempted once more. "I was actually asking her—"
The look So'lek gave him was brief. Very brief. A sideways glance. Nothing overtly hostile. Nothing aggressive.
Just a go away.
Louis immediately remembered two very important facts.
One, So'lek was nearly ten feet tall.
Two, So'lek looked capable of folding him into a decorative shape if motivated.
Louis wisely reconsidered his life choices. "...You know what."
Both turned slightly.
Louis stood. "I just remembered I promised Priya I'd help with something."
A complete lie. Nobody challenged it.
(Y/n) offered him a polite smile. Then immediately turned back toward So'lek.
Louis felt strangely disappointed by that. And oddly jealous.
Not because So'lek was bigger. Or stronger. Or terrifying. Because of how easy it was. How easy she just jumped into conversation with him.
He wanted that sweet angelic smile directed at him.
So'lek watched him leave. Only once Louis disappeared around the corner did his attention return fully to her.
She had already resumed writing.
He sighed. "You are still working."
"And you are still nagging."
The corner of his mouth twitched upward.
And for the first time since entering the room (Y/n) laughed.
The tension from Louis’ presence seemed to leave her shoulders entirely.
So'lek noticed. The warrior lowered himself into a crouch beside her chair, one arm resting against the edge of the table while she returned to picking at her dinner.
For a few moments he simply watched her eat. Making certain she actually did it.
"So."
(Y/n) immediately sighed. "What?"
"Is that man bothering you?"
The effect was immediate. She froze. Like a frightened hexepede that had just spotted movement in the undergrowth.
Her fork stopped halfway to her mouth. Her eyes widened slightly.
And suddenly she looked deeply uncomfortable.
So'lek's expression immediately darkened. Because that was answer enough.
"I..." (Y/n) looked down at her tray. Then at her notebook. Anywhere except him.
"I do not know what is wrong with me." The confession came quietly. "I know he has not actually done anything."
Her fingers tightened slightly around the fork. "But whenever he comes close..."
She struggled for the words. "My skin crawls." The admission clearly embarrassed her. As though she felt guilty for even thinking it.
"I should not be making assumptions about people." Her voice became smaller. "But I cannot help it."
So'lek listened silently. Giving her space to continue.
"He asks questions."
"Normal questions."
"And I know everyone thinks he is nice."
Her shoulders drew inward slightly. "But every time he starts talking to me I just..."
She exhaled. "...want to leave."
The warrior's gaze never left her. "Why?"
"I do not know."
But she did know she just didn’t know how to voice it to So’lek. How does someone say that in the past men with guns, soldiers, had never treated her kindly… far from it.
"I do not want him to get angry if I accidentally insult him." The words slipped out before she could stop them.
And suddenly So'lek understood enough. Because it was not Louis.
Not really. It was fear. Old fear. Old habits. Old scars.
The kind that lingered long after danger had passed, that lingered in the pages of that old notebook and in her mind.
His voice softened. "You think he is a danger?"
Immediately she shook her head. "No."
Then quieter— "I just don’t know."
Her eyes dropped to the table again. "And it makes me nervous."
For several moments So'lek said nothing. Simply thinking. Watching her.Seeing how genuinely distressed she looked over something most people would dismiss.
Then he reached over and gently took the notebook from her hands.
(Y/n) frowned. "What are you doing?"
"You are thinking too much."
"I am absolutely thinking the correct amount."
"You are not." He set the notebook aside. Far enough away she couldn't immediately grab it back.
Then his large hand settled gently over hers. "Listen to me."
Her eyes lifted toward his.
"If someone makes you uncomfortable, you do not owe them your time."
The statement genuinely seemed to surprise her.
"You do not have to answer every question."
"You do not have to speak to everyone."
"You do not have to stay where you do not wish to stay."
She stared at him. As though nobody had ever said that before.
Which honestly wouldn't have surprised him.
"But—"
"No."
His thumb brushed lightly across her knuckles. "If he is not dangerous, then good."
"If he is simply trying to be friendly, then also good."
His gaze remained steady. "But that does not mean you must entertain it."
Something in her expression softened. Just slightly. Because that was the part she'd been struggling with. The guilt. The feeling that she was somehow doing something wrong by wanting space.
So'lek continued quietly. "You are allowed to dislike things."
"You are allowed to walk away."
"You are allowed to say no."
(Y/n) looked down. Then gave the smallest nod.
But he could tell she didn't fully believe it yet.
So'lek squeezed her hand once. Then released it.
"If he bothers you again." The warrior's voice became calm. Dangerously calm. "You tell me."
Immediately her eyes widened. "So'lek."
"What?"
"You cannot threaten every person that annoys me."
"I can try."
That startled a laugh out of her. And suddenly the tension eased.
Exactly as he'd intended.
Good.
Much better than watching her sit there worrying herself sick over a conversation.
So'lek reached over.
Pushed her forgotten dinner slightly closer. "Now eat."
She groaned immediately. "There he is."
"There who is?"
"The nagging So’lek."
"It is because you keep forgetting."
(Y/n) smiled.
So’lek felt something in his chest flutter. Yes, he adored this woman. The realization no longer surprised him. Somewhere between cups of tea, arguments about rest, tending injured creatures, and watching her give every piece of herself to help others, the feeling had become as natural as breathing.
The sight settled something warm inside his chest.
Then his eyes drifted briefly toward the corridor Louis had disappeared down.
The warmth remained. But something else joined it. A faint tightening. A quiet awareness. Because he had not liked the look on her face when Louis was around. Had not liked how she shrank into herself. How she seemed constantly poised to escape.
And perhaps more importantly—He had not liked the look on Louis's face either.
Not because the man had done anything wrong.Not yet.
But So'lek knew people. Knew the way eyes lingered. The way attention followed. The way curiosity could become something more.
His gaze shifted back toward (Y/n).
She was happily explaining something to herself in her notes now, muttering, completely unaware of the thoughts running through his mind.
Oblivious. Sweet Eywa, she was oblivious.
The warrior found himself wondering if she even realized how people looked at her sometimes.
Probably not. She was far too busy worrying about offending someone to notice when she was the one capturing attention.
His jaw tightened slightly.
Louis might simply be trying to make a friend. That was entirely possible. But until So'lek knew for certain—He intended to pay closer attention.
Just in case.
The thought felt perfectly reasonable to him. Entirely logical. After all, she'd only recently admitted that Louis made her uncomfortable.
And if something bothered her—Then it mattered.Simple as that.
Across the table, (Y/n) looked up suddenly."Why are you staring at me?"
So'lek blinked.Apparently he'd been doing exactly that. "I am not."
"You absolutely are."
"I was thinking."
"That is even more concerning."
The warrior huffed softly. And just like that, the seriousness faded.
Because she was smiling again.
Still, as she returned to her notebook, So'lek's gaze drifted once more toward the corridor, he intended to keep a very close eye on this situation.
Pixel post dividers for everyone! It's not much, but feel free to use them if you'd like.
I don't know the ideal size for these, so let me know if they're too tall. I can make them a bit shorter next time.
can you pleaseeee do toxic Neteyam, like someone is flirting insane with reader and he watches from afar. Then grabs reader and is SUPERRR touchy to make sure the other sees. Later when they’re alone he tells us that we are only his and spits into readers mouth to show how possessive he is abt us 🙈🙈🙈🙈🙈🙈🙈
❀࿔: 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔ aged up! neteyam ✘ fem! metkayina! reader
♪ warnings: lower caps, smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), fingering, teasing neteyam, spitting, possesive neteyam, dry humping/grinding, tit sucking, slight nipple play
♪ wc: 4.2k
♪ author's note: ooouuuuu i had a blast writing this 😝😝😝 spitting is sexy asf idc what anybody say! tysm for ur request i hope you like it💗💗💗
the sound of rushing water and the gentle waves crashing against the shore fill the air as you sit on a rock, looking out into the vast ocean. the cool breeze blows through your hair, carrying the salty scent of the sea.
as you sit, lost in thought, a figure approaches from the distance. you recognize the figure as unay, one of the metkayina warriors.
you were aware that he liked you. you had tried countless times to get the point across that you weren’t interested in him, but he never seemed to take the hint.
you offer him a warm smile and his eyes light up, misinterpreting it as encouragement. he sits down next to you on the rock, his arm brushing against yours. “beautiful day, isn't it?” he says, trying to engage in conversation. “i was hoping to see you out here.”
you nodded, looking out into the ocean. “yeah, it is really nice.”
he leans in slightly closer, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. “you know, you always look so beautiful out here by the ocean. the way the sunlight catches your eyes... it's really something.” his flirty tone is evident as he tries to charm you.
you offered him another smile. “thank you. that’s really sweet.” you reply, trying to be nice despite not being comfortable with the flirting.
unay takes your response as an opening and scoots a bit closer, his thigh now pressing against yours. “i was thinking... maybe after dinner, we could go for a swim together? just the two of us, under the moonlight? the water is always so warm and peaceful at night.”
“ummm,” you start. “i think im busy. but if im not then im sure we could.”
he’s clearly not picking up on your hints that you're not interested. his hand moves to rest casually on the rock behind you, effectively trapping you slightly. “you’re always so busy lately. ever since those outsiders showed up...”
“well i’ve been busy with helping them to learn our ways. i promised tsireya that i would help her.” you replied.
while you did promise tsireya that, that wasnt the main reason why you were always with them. the truth is that you wanted to get closer to someone that had caught your attention. and it was pretty clear that you had caught his too.
you werent sure if unay was aware of the growing tension between you and neteyam, or if he was just deliberately choosing to ignore it and continue to chase after you.
unay’s expression turned slightly jealous, his hand tightening on the rock behind you. “those outsiders don't need our ways. they’re not one of us.” he leans in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “you should be spending time with someone from your own clan.”
what you didn’t know was that from a distance, partially hidden behind the trunk of a large tree, neteyam was watching the scene unfold.
his jaw tightens, his eyes narrowing as he sees unay leaning closer to you, effectively trapping you against the rock. he sees your polite smile and knows you're trying to be nice, but he hates seeing another man touching you.
he sees the way unay is invading your personal space, and how uncomfortable you look despite trying to be polite. his hands ball into fists at his sides as jealousy and anger boil inside him.
“that’s why im helping to teach them. you should be more welcoming towards them.” you tell him, your voice slightly firm.
unay rolls his eyes, clearly not interested in learning about the outsiders. “i don't need to learn their ways. i have everything i need right here.” his hand shifts slightly, now resting on the rock closer to you. “like you, for example.”
neteyams breath hitches as he watches unay’s hand move closer. his mind races with possessive thoughts, his instincts screaming at him to claim you right then and there. but he holds back, watching and waiting to see how you'll react.
you don’t reply, just offer him yet another smile like you always did.
unay takes your silence as encouragement, his hand slowly sliding down the rock until it's resting just behind your back. he leans in closer, his voice a low murmur. “you know, if you weren't so busy with those outsiders... i could show you a good time.”
neteyams eyes flash with anger and his hands clench so tightly that his nails dig into his palms. he can barely stand watching this any longer. the way unay is talking to you…
neteyam finally decided to walk up.
“oh, um…” you trail off, not sure how to respond.
“everything good here?” neteyams voice cuts through the air. unay looks up, surprised and slightly annoyed to see neteyam approaching. he slowly removes his hand from behind your back, sitting up straighter. “yeah, everything's fine. we were just talking.” he leans back slightly, giving neteyam a challenging look.
neteyam sits down beside you and wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. unays eyes narrow slightly, clearly picking up on the tense atmosphere and neteyams silent claim on you. he leans in closer, not backing down easily.
neteyam's voice is low and calm, but there's an undercurrent of possessiveness and warning in his tone. he looks at unay directly, his eyes unblinking. “i think that's enough talking for now. don’t you?” his other hand comes to rest on your knee.
unay’s jaw tightens, but he doesn't back down. instead, he leans in closer, his eyes flicking between you and neteyam. “or maybe we haven't talked enough.”
neteyams eyes narrow at his words. his hand on your hip squeezes tighter, his thumb pressing into your hipbone. his other hand moves higher on your leg, almost reaching your thigh. “i think we have.”
you let out a heavy sigh, clearly uncomfortable with the tension in the atmosphere.
your sigh breaks through the air, making both men realize how uncomfortable you are. unay finally backs down, seeing that he's not going to get anywhere with you while neteyam is being so clearly possessive.
neteyam's voice is calm and controlled, but there's no mistaking the message behind his words. he looks at unay with a hard stare, his hand still resting on your leg. “i think you should go.”
unay’s face twists into a scowl, clearly irritated by being dismissed. “we were just having a conversation.”
“a conversation that's over now.” neteyam replies, his voice firm. his hand moves slightly higher on your leg. “and i’m not asking you to leave. i’m telling you.” his eyes are hard and commanding. “go.”
unay’s shoulders slump as he realizes he's not getting anywhere. he stands up, giving you a longing look before turning his gaze to neteyam. “this is foolish.” he mutters. “she can speak for herself.”
neteyam's jaw tightens, his words striking a nerve. “can she? because she looked pretty uncomfortable to me.”
unay stares for a long moment, then finally turns and walks off with a frustrated shake of his head.
neteyam watches him leave before turning his full attention to you. his eyes search yours, looking for any sign of discomfort or annoyance at his behavior. “are you okay?”
“neteyam… you didnt have to-“
“yes, i did.” he says firmly, his voice low and serious. “i saw how uncomfortable he was making you, and i couldn't just stand by and do nothing.”
he suddenly stood up. “come with me.” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument. his eyes are intense, almost desperate.
“what? where?-”
neteyam simply starts walking away from the shore, not answering your question. he grips your hand tightly, pulling you along with him. he walks quickly, his legs eating up the distance as he leads you towards the dense forest that borders the beach.
he finally stops when you're deep enough in the forest that no one else can hear or see you. he turns to face you abruptly, his eyes burning with intensity. “we’re going to talk.” he says firmly. he hand leaves yours to rest on your waist.
“neteyam-“
neteyam cuts you off again, his voice softer this time but no less intense. “just listen to me, okay?” he steps closer to you, his frame looming over yours.
he takes a deep breath, his eyes flicking down to your lips before meeting yours again. “i don't want anyone else touching you. talking to you. looking at you.” his hand tightens on your waist. “especially not that warrior back there.”
“neteyam…” you breathed out.
“i know i was probably being a dick back there.” he admits, running his other hand through his hair. “but i couldn't stand how he was looking at you.” he paused. “like he wanted what's mine.”
your heart hammered in your chest at his words. his eyes dropped to your lips again, watching them part slightly as your breath hitched.
without thinking, he stepped even closer, his body almost pressing against yours. “and it's not just him. it’s any man who looks at you like that. like they want to take you from me.” his voice tightens.
neteyams hands move to grip your hips, his fingers digging in slightly as he pulls you flush against him. his face is inches from yours, his breath mingling with yours.
your eyes dart down to his lips, twitching with unspoken words and suppressed kisses.
he’s suddenly very aware of how easy it would be to bend your head back and kiss you right now. his voice drops even lower, almost hoarse. “say something” he commands softly. “anything.”
“they… they won’t take me from you, neteyam.” your voice was barely above a whisper. “i won’t let them.”
his breath catches, his eyes going soft and possessive all at once. a low groan rumbles in his chest. “good,” he murmurs against your lips, not quite kissing you but so close you can feel the heat of him. “because i’m not letting you go either.” his hand moves up to cradle the back of your head.
neteyam's lips hover over yours, brushing against them lightly. it’s a soft, teasing kiss, driving you crazy with need. his eyes watch your face closely, searching for any sign of discomfort. instead, he finds you leaning in, chasing his lips.
“please…” you whispered.
neteyam smirks against your lips, knowing exactly what he's doing to you. he pulls back just enough to keep his lips out of reach, teasing you with soft, feather-light kisses that barely touch. his hands tighten on your hips. “please what?”
“please...” you repeated softly. “kiss me…”
neteyam finally gives in, crushing his lips against yours in a desperate, passionate kiss. his hand in your hair tightens, pulling you closer as his tongue pushes past your lips. it’s possessive, claiming. everything you've wanted from him.
you wrapped your arms around him tightly, your tongue tangling with his.
he groans into your mouth, the sound vibrating against your lips. his other hand slides down to your lower back, pressing you impossibly closer until there's no space between you at all. he breaks the kiss just to breathe, his forehead resting against yours, both of you panting. you don’t waste another second before kissing him again.
he groans approvingly at your eagerness, kissing you back with even more intensity. his hands slide down to your ass, gripping and lifting you up against him. you wrap your legs around his waist instinctively, and he walks you backwards until your back hits a large tree. “mine,” he breathes against your lips between kisses. “all mine.”
you whine softly at his words and begin to grind yourself against him, making neteyam’s eyes roll back.
he presses you harder against the tree, his hips moving in rhythm with yours. he kisses you deeper, more aggressively, the sound of your moans driving him wild. “fuck…”
his hard length strains against the thin fabric of his loincloth, pressing insistently against your core. he grinds against you harder, letting you feel every inch of him. his kisses become more urgent, more desperate as he presses against you.
soft whimpers and moans escape your lips, making his mind turn hazy with lust. one hand slides down to grip your thigh tighter, pulling you even closer as he thrusts his erection against you. “you like that? like feeling me against you?”
you nod frantically. “yes… yes, i love it.”
his hand slides under your top, his palm finding your breast. he groans at the softness of it, squeezing gently before pinching your nipple between his fingers. he continues to grind against you, the friction almost too much to bear through the thin fabric of your loincloth.
his pupils dilate as he lifts your top up, baring your breasts to him. he immediately captures one in his mouth, sucking and biting gently while his other hand plays with the other nipple. his hips never stop moving against you, the friction driving both of you crazy.
you cry out, your fingers tangling in his hair, the feeling only spurring him on. he sucks harder on your breast, his teeth scraping gently against your sensitive peak. his hand slides down to grip your hip, pulling you even closer as he grinds his erection against your clit through your loincloth.
you could feel yourself getting close just from this, just from grinding against him, your climax building rapidly in your lower stomach. “neteyam….”
“mmm?” he hums against your breast, his hand moving between your legs to put pressure right on your clit over your loincloth. “you close?”
“yes… yes im so close… please-“
at your plea, he freezes, his body going perfectly still against yours. he sees the frustration and unfulfilled desire in your eyes and smirks mischievously. instead of continuing to move against you, he pulls back, breaking the delicious friction, making you whimper in protest.
before you could ask why he stopped— he dropped to his knees in one fluid motion, his hands gripping your hips. your loincloth is soaked through with your arousal, and the sight makes his cock twitch with need. he looks up at your frustrated, turned-on face.
his hands untie your loincloth slowly, letting it fall to the ground and revealing your pussy to him. he swallows hard, his self-control hanging by a thread. instead of immediately diving in like he wants to, he spreads your legs wider and blows cool air over your core.
“neteyam, please…” you breathed out.
he smirks up at you and leans in, nuzzling his nose against your clit, but not touching it with his lips or tongue. “please what?” he teases, his breath hot against you.
“you know what.”
“say it.” he demands, his voice rough with desire. he leans in closer, his lips hovering just inches away from where you need him most.
“i want you to eat me out.” you said, past the point of embarrassment.
a grin spreads across his face at your words. without warning, he dips his head forward and runs his tongue along your slit, tasting you. he pulls back immediately, leaving you wanting more. “like that?”
“more… please…”
he chuckles at your plea, spreading you wider with his thumbs. he presses a gentle kiss to your clit, sucking it lightly between his lips before letting it pop out. he repeats the action a few times, driving you wild with need. “more what?” his voice is muffled against your pussy.
you groaned in frustration. you didn’t reply, instead gripping his hair tightly and pushing him between your legs, keeping him there.
he groans against you at the sudden action. he stops teasing and dives in, his tongue swirling around your clit before sucking it hard into his mouth. his hands grip your thighs tightly as he eats you out with fierce hunger.
you threw your head back against the tree, your legs shaking against his shoulders.
feeling you tremble against him makes him eat you out even more aggressively. one of his hands leaves your thigh to slide two fingers inside of you, pumping them in time with his sucking.
you cried out as he hit that spot inside of you, your grip tightening on his hair “fuck…”
he curls his fingers inside you, hitting that spot repeatedly while his tongue flicks your clit rapidly. your taste is intoxicating, and the sound of your voice crying out in pleasure is driving him mad. he groans possessively, knowing he's the one making you fall apart like this.
you were already so close from that edge he had denied you. “dont stop…” you pleaded.
he doesn't stop, his fingers and tongue working in a relentless rhythm. he feels your walls start to flutter around his fingers, your breath hitching as you get closer to the edge.
he doubles down his efforts, sucking your clit harder and pressing down on that sensitive spot inside you with his fingers.
he groans against your pussy as you start to come, your juices flowing down his chin, a broken moan escaping you.
he keeps licking and sucking gently as you ride out your orgasm, not wanting to stop until every last shudder leaves your body.
when you finally go limp against the tree, he slowly pulls his fingers out and gives your clit one last kiss before sitting back on his heels.
he watches you with heated eyes as you crawl towards him, joining him on the ground, his face and chin glistening. he smirks at your disheveled state, loving how you look completely wrecked from his mouth.
you lean forward and kiss him deeply, tasting yourself on his tongue.
he kisses you back eagerly, his hands wrapping around to grip your ass possessively. he breaks the kiss to trail open-mouthed kisses down your neck, marking you with hickeys. “lay back,” he murmurs.
you lay down on the ground, the moss providing a cushion against your back. neteyam positions himself between your legs and kisses you deeply, his hard length straining painfully against the fabric of his loincloth.
you bring your hand down and palm him through his loincloth, rubbing and squeezing gently.
he hisses at your touch, his head falling back as you touch him through the thin fabric. he’s so hard it's painful, his length throbbing against your hand. he covers your hand with his own, pressing it harder against him. “fuck...”
he lifts his hips slightly to give you better access as you start to undo the knots of his loincloth. his cock springs free, slapping against his stomach. he watches you through heavy-lidded eyes as you wrap your hand around him, stroking gently.
“please..” you breathed out. “i need you…”
he smiles down at you, loving your desperate state. he leans down to kiss you roughly, biting your bottom lip as he positions himself at your entrance. he rubs his tip against your slit, spreading your wetness around but not entering you.
his tip catches your clit, making both of you moan softly. he repeats the action a few more times, circling it slowly with the head of his cock before rubbing it up and down your slit, never pushing inside. “what do you need?”
“i need you inside of me, please…”
he smirks and pushes the head of his cock inside you just an inch, then pulls back out immediately. he does it again, pushing in a bit deeper this time before withdrawing. “how bad do you want it?” he asks hoarsely.
you sighed in frustration, taking the initiative to grab his cock and sink yourself down on it.
he moans loudly as you suddenly sink down on him, taking him to the hilt in one smooth motion. his hands fly to your hips, gripping them tightly as he buries his face in your neck, biting down on your skin. “fuck...” he breathes out roughly, his cock pulsing inside you.
he stays still inside you, letting you adjust to his size. he fills you completely, stretching you wide around him. he kisses your neck softly, his hands rubbing your hips and thighs gently.
“move.” you command softly.
at your command, he begins to move his hips slowly, sliding his length in and out of you with deliberate slowness. he wants to draw this out, to make you feel every inch of him. he lifts your legs to wrap around his waist, opening you up wider for him. as he does, his cock grazes that spot inside you that makes you see stars. “like that?”
“yes… just like that…” you whined.
he finds that spot again, hitting it with each thrust. he watches your face intently, loving the way your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open in pleasure. he leans down to capture your lips in a deep kiss, swallowing your moans as he continues to hit that sweet spot inside you.
he pulls back suddenly. “open your mouth.” he commands.
you obey immediately, opening for him, tongue sticking out. he then pulls back and spits into your mouth. your eyes widen at the dirty gesture, but it turns you on even more. you swallow eagerly, your eyes never leaving his. he starts thrusting harder, the wet sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the air.
he kisses you messily after making you swallow his spit, his tongue pushing into your mouth aggressively. “mine. you’re fucking mine.” he growls against your lips, pounding into you harshly. “say it.” he demands roughly.
“im yours, neteyam.” you gasped out.
he grins at your submission, loving the way your voice hitches when you say his name. he leans down to bite your neck hard as he continues to thrust inside you, marking you possessively. “yes, yes you are…”
you raked your nails down his back, hard enough to draw blood.
he hisses in pleasure as you mark him back, his eyes flashing with desire. he loves that you’re claiming him just as he's claiming you. his abs contract with each powerful thrust, sweat beading on his chest. “touch yourself.” he orders gruffly.
you go down and find your clit, rubbing it with your finger in time with his thrusts.
he groans loudly as he watches you play with your clit, his pace becoming more erratic as he sees you pleasure yourself while he fucks you. he grabs your hand and shoves it away, replacing it with his own fingers. “let me do it,” he growls.
he starts rubbing your clit in fast, firm circles with his thumb, his cock still pounding inside you. the dual stimulation is overwhelming, and you can feel an intense orgasm building deep within you. he leans down to bite and suck on your nipples roughly while continuing to rub your clit.
“neteyam, fuck, im close.” you breathed out, your climax building rapidly.
he can feel you tightening around his cock, squeezing him deliciously. he speeds up his thrusts, hammering into you with abandon. his thumb presses harder against your clit, rubbing it relentlessly. “come for me.” he commands breathlessly. “let me feel it.” he bites down on your collarbone as he feels you clench around him.
his words push you over the edge and you come with a cry, your orgasm ripping through you.
your climax triggers his own, and he buries himself deep inside you with a loud moan as he comes, pumping you full of his release. he keeps rubbing your clit gently through your orgasm, drawing it out until you're oversensitive and twitching.
he stays inside you for a moment, his face buried in your neck as he catches his breath. his cock jerks inside you with each pulse, filling you even more. “look at me.” he says gruffly.
when your eyes meet his, he cups your face with one hand, his expression serious yet tender. he leans down and kisses you, more gentle now. “you belong to me,” he whispers against your lips. “you’re all mine.” he strokes your cheek softly, the possessiveness in his tone mixed with genuine affection. “say it again.”
“i’m yours, neteyam. im all yours.”
his eyes soften at your words, and he kisses you again. he pulls out of you slowly, watching as some of his release spills out.
you reach down and spread it inside you with your fingers, making him groan approvingly at the sight. he grabs your hand and brings it to his mouth, sucking your fingers clean of his cum.
he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close against his chest. he rests his cheek on top of your head, one hand stroking your hair gently as he catches his breath. “you’re everything to me.” he murmurs softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. he rolls you both onto your sides, keeping you pressed against him.
he holds you tightly and closes his eyes contentedly, savoring the feeling of you in his arms. his hand continues to gently brush your hair, occasionally planting soft kisses onto your head or shoulder.
“we should clean up now…” you suggest.
he shakes his head. “in a minute,” he murmurs, holding you tighter. “i want to stay like this for a bit longer.”
you smiled softly and listened to his heart beating steadily under your ear, feeling completely content and at peace.
In this Choose Your Own Adventure, Eywa’s voice guides your every step. Unfortunately, it becomes much harder to listen when Neteyam Sully is involved...
Neteyam x Fem!Reader
Choose Your Own Adventure
🔗 READ/PLAY HERE
🎮interactive fanfic "Prophetess of Eywa" by desertmaraj
📖 Episode 3 of ?
a/n: just a little something to get the blog going. not the first avatar fic i've written, just the first that i've actually completed. also first time writing on tumblr so sorry if the format isn't good.
Neteyam sighed for the umpteenth time. He dragged a hand over his face with a tired frustration of a man who has lived through the same ridiculousness over and over again.
Once again, someone had stolen his wife.
He had left you sitting in the center of your shared kelku briefly, only to return to empty space and still air.
Without a second thought he marched through the worn pathway that he had followed too often for his liking in a single week. Each step betrayed the frustration that sat heavy on his bones but came to a stop when he reached his destination.
There, on the floor of his family's kelku, sat you and Lo'ak dipping freshly carved beads into dye and laying them out to dry.
Neteyam's shadow fell over the workspace.
"Really?"
You looked up and gave him a wry smile. A half apology and a half 'what did you expect'.
Lo'ak didn't twitch, just simply kept his focus on the task in front of him. Neteyam's mouth tightened into a thin line; one that said he was trying very hard to hold himself back. His anger filled the room with a thickness that made your movements slow but Lo'ak simply ignored it, the calm air around him repelling the daggers that were shot his way. Your eyes darted back and forth as you sat in the middle of the familiar dance between temperaments that you have been a spectator to for many years.
The silence lasted seconds that felt like days and nights coming and going. Eventually Lo'ak turned his gaze, finally looking away from the bead between his fingers and onto his brother who was wound so tightly he looked like he would snap in half.
"You mind?" Lo'ak said "you're blocking our light"
You pursed your lips as Neteyam grit his teeth. You turned away in an attempt to hide the subtle shake of your shoulders. Neteyam noticed anyway. He turned his ire onto you.
"This is funny to you?" His eyes narrowed. You looked down with a poorly hidden smile. "All i ask is for one—one day with my mate by my side, completely. One day without her being taken from me. And here you are, laughing at my misery" he leveled you with a stern look
"Dramatic much.." Lo'ak muttered, now grinding roots for more dye.
Neteyam snapped his head towards him.
"You" he pointed like a teacher scolding a rowdy child "Go.Away. Go back to the reef and leave her alone"
"Neteyam" you tried, but he ignored you.
"You're so possessive bro" Lo'ak raised a judging brow "No wonder she keeps running away"
"She is not running away, skxawng. She is just too nice to say no"
"Whatever helps you sleep at night"
Neteyam opened his mouth to retort but you stepped in "Ma 'teyam, do not be so mad. Lo'ak just needed help for today. You will have me tomorrow"
He scoffed "You say that now but tomorrow, if it's not this idiot, then it's someone else snatching you up"
"That's not true"
"Yesterday it was Tuk wanting to play by the river"
"Tuk is a child"
"The day before it was Kiri making you help grind herbs in the healers tent"
"Everyone else was busy"
"The day before that, it was my mother forcing you to bead a new curtain"
"I offered"
"Y/n "
"Neteyam"
Neteyam closed his eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. He felt like he was on the cusp of combusting into flames. The heat that swelled in his chest was suffocating.
"What’s all this?"
Neteyam jumped slightly at the hand now resting on his shoulder.
"I'm helping Lo'ak dye beads to carry back for Tsireya" you answered, happy for the change in conversation.
Jake hummed, eyes raking over the carefully lined beads that air dried. He crouched down to inspect it closer. "Looks good"
"Great, dad can help you now. Come (Y/n)" Neteyam beckoned, already half turned for you to follow.
At the questioning look on Jake's face Lo'ak supplied "He's just pissy she wants to hang out with me and not him"
"You—!"
"Y/n!" Tuk came rushing in, bypassing Neteyam completely and hopping right to the space next to you
"Tuk tuk!" You cooed, squishing her cheek against yours
She giggled "Y/n, we have to go to the river! Now! Spider said he saw viperwolf pups nearby and I want to see them" she yanked at your arm, try to lift you from the ground.
"Hey!" Lo'ak's brows furrowed "She can't. She's helping me with something"
Tuk stuck her tongue out at him.
"Hey (Y/n)" Kiri waltzed in "Can you come with me to the mountains? Mo'at needs dapophet pods"
"No! Y/n's coming with me!" Tuk's ears flattened.
"What? No way, she's already busy. Go by yourself" Lo'ak grumbled
"Umm.." Jake mumbled sheepishly "I actually needed her help to string some bows.." they all turned to him ".. your mother's busy and (Y/n)'s good at it"
"You've got to be kidding me"
"You can't be serious right now"
"All of you suck"
Everyone devolved into chaos. Voices climbed and teeth were bared. You sat there stunned by the whole ordeal, not knowing who to comfort and who to scold. Truthfully you didn't mind helping them all but knowing them, everything was a competition to be won and a tie would make them moan and groan, so you just kept silent. You forgot about Neteyam's presence until he made himself known again.
"That's it, I've had enough!" With lighting speed, Neteyam lifted you up and tossed you over his shoulder like a woven sack. You gasped, instinctively wiggling to escape his hold but it was no use, his grip was too strong. The rest of the family protested as he left without a word.
You hung uselessly as he stalked back to your kelku.
"You are not leaving my side ever again" he huffed.
You sighed, accepting your fate.
Lo'ak was right, he is dramatic.
a/n: i've got tons of stuff in the works just fyi. it'll probaly just take forever for me to finish them and be actually satisfied enough to post.
not too proud of this, but i wrote it and thought might aswell post it.
Summary: Tamtey makes a reckless decision in order to prove herself to the clans elders, but So’lek has to save her. The tension could’ve been cut with a knife but it was cut by confessions instead.
Warnings: contains smut.
Authors Note:
hey guys! I’m posting a link to my Ao3 series here! Starting with Look At Me When You Lie. This is a massive series (100k+ words) that I poured my soul into. I hope you enjoy!
The first three works are relatively domestic with pretty tame Smut, but once you hit the story A Path Unfolding, it gets into heavy themes.
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“I was testing you.”
She gave a brittle, humorless breath of a laugh. “By letting them assume I wasn’t capable?”
The bandage tightened around her arm. He pulled it a fraction harder than necessary. She hissed through her teeth but did not flinch away.
“I was forcing you to act without seeking my approval,” he said.
“Well,” she shot back, her tail giving an agitated snap against the roots behind her, “you succeeded.”
Graphic depictions of violence, interrogation by Torture, primal kink, hurt/comfort, knotting, sexual overstimulation, idk what else I wrote so much omg
Summary: You were brought into the TAP program 6 years before Jake Sully waged war and ran the RDA off of the planet. You had thought the Sarentu kids you watched grow up were dead. 15 years later, a second chance to give them the freedom they deserve arises as well as secrets that were kept hidden.
Word count: 9.5K
Trope: Tolerates one another to understands each other to lovers ig
Warning: mentions and mild descriptions of chronic(?) pain, mentioned survivors guilt, poor choice in words, some swearing, more than likely medical inaccuracies (sorry mom), described death/killing
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Na’vi Dictionary:
‘Eylan - Friend
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A/N: yall, i severely underestimated how much a new environment would impact my ability to form cohesive thoughts. I’m hoping to be back in the groove of things here in the next week or two. Part 7 is prob going to be a bit heavy hitting so there’s that to look forward to.
❁ <- Previous ❁ Next -> ❁
❁ TSMUKE ❁
It feels like you’ve been sitting here for hours, “Nalin, this really isn’t necessary. I’m fine, see?” You wave your hand in front of her face. “Everything moves properly, no pain.”
Her head jerks back slightly at the sudden movement before giving you a small glare. “You nearly died in that explosion. It’s barely been two weeks since your transfer. And you haven’t let anyone hardly touch you since the first week. And now, I have to force you to sit down for more than five minutes to actually check in on your health that, need I remind you, you’re still obviously neglecting. And you only let me do bits and pieces of my actual work up. So yeah, no, you’re getting looked over whether you want me to or not.” She smacks the back of your hand down as she turns her attention back to her tests.
Her pen light blinds you momentarily as she checks pupillary response; good. Fingers snap loud and close to your ears, making you wince. Nalin hums slightly, jotting it down in the new records she’d made for you. Said that now that you didn’t go back and forth she’d have to log things a bit differently.
She makes you open your mouth, yawn, extend your tongue out while shining her pen light to the back of your throat. All normal movement and coloring. Her fingers ghost under your jaw then down your throat, noting no changes, no lumps, or sore spots. She then pauses, reaching behind her.
Cool metal rests on your skin, “Breathe in and out, slow and steady.” In through your nose. Out through your mouth. Front and back. Breath pulls in so deep it almost makes you cough before slowly pushing it back out. She has you do that four more times before she’s satisfied. Lung sounds; good. Clear, soft, even.
Your eyebrows knit together a bit when she turns around, bottom lip curling lightly in against your teeth. A dull ache had welcomed you when you’d woken up this morning. You’d done everything you could to ignore it, to make it go away. You subtly press your fingers just above your knee while Nalin writes down in her notes, quickly pulling away when she turns back to you.
Her fingers press the warmed end solidly against your chest, moving around a few inches every now and then. Left, right, small shifts lower and out, then your back. She forces you to be quiet, fingers pressed into the pulse point on your wrist at the same time. Nalin adjusts her hold a couple times, pressing the metal firmly around your sternum and back, eyebrows pinched as she listens.
Nalin finally pulls the stethoscope away, sitting back while wrapping it around the back of her neck. “Your heart’s a little fast, have you been dizzy lately? Any sudden weakness or feeling extra tired?”
You shake your head, catching Ri’nela in the corner of your eye trying to look like she wasn’t listening in. “No, nothing like that. Or anything else, like I told you.” There’s no hiding the exasperation in your voice, “Seriously Nalin, this is a waste of time. There’s so much to get done after the destruction Mercer caused in the Upper Plains. To prepare for. We still have to figure out what he’s planning next.”
Nalin throws her hands up in frustration, “You cannot keep pushing off your health. One day you’re going to make yourself collapse and then what? ‘Oh, sorry Nalin. Wow, I didn’t see this coming. I’ll listen to you next time, I promise.’” Her voice pitches in irked mockery, not hiding her worry.
You greet her frustration with a flat look, “Nalin, you’ve been checking me every day for almost a week now. If anything was going to happen, it would have already.”
She almost agrees with you, you can see the internal battle she’s having with herself. Then she shakes the thought free before it takes root, “No, this won’t take that long. And I’ve barely been able to check you anyway.”
A groan tumbles out as your slouch forward, “We’ve been at this forever.”
“It would’ve been done already if you would just sit still and let me do my work.” She holds out her hand, waiting. Reluctantly you sit back up, giving her your hand. She makes you curl your fingers, bend your wrist then elbow. Then, reaching as high up as you could, front then back. Repeating it on the other side. Moving both together. She moves briefly to press along your spine and shoulder blades before sitting back down.
Fingers push against your abdomen, then move on. Along your sides, from ribs down to your hips, turning to write down more. Nalin continued her prodding, working her way around your hip bones to your legs. Making you straighten one knee, rolling your ankle and flexing your foot. Then the other knee, rinse and repeat.
You did your best to hide the discomfort when you extended your left knee. Ignored the slight burning that flared when you rolled your ankle. Pushed down the pulsing that ricocheted from your knee down to your toes. Hoping that you’d be able to get through Nalin’s exam without her noticing.
Nalin notices something’s off, of course she does. “Yo u sure you’re feeling okay? You don’t look so hot.”
Teasing words quickly mask the pain, “Wow, way to tear a girl down, doc.”
She gives you a flat look, “That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Her face softens slightly, worry etched plainly on her face. “Seriously, you don’t have to hide it if something’s bothering you. You’ve had a lot of trauma happen to your body, your mind.” She sighs, thinking over those last words. “I can’t begin to imagine what all of that could possibly do to someone’s psyche.”
A small seed of dread plants itself into your brain, worried if she keeps prodding that you’ll tell her everything. So instead, you play it off. “Nalin, I am fine. I promise you, look.” You do some exaggerated stretching, proving your body is ‘fine’. That you are ‘fine’. “See? Couldn’t be better physically, even if I tried.”
Nalin just watches you, lips pursed. “And mentally?”
You look away shrugging, “I’ve been worse.” That was the most honest you’ve been all morning. “But I’m not in a bad spot. Not right now.” Even more truth.
You can tell you haven’t quite convinced her but she humors you and lets it go. Her hand pats gently on your throbbing knee, unaware of the sharp needle-like sensation that follows every light tap. “I can only help if you allow me to. If something changes, and I mean anything changes at all, you let me know. Okay?” She cracks a smile, trying to copy your normally light attitude towards things, “Besides, we can’t have your ‘new’ body failing just because you decided to neglect your health. Not after all that work to keep you here after all.”
Quick to latch onto the change in atmosphere, you give her a two finger salute. “Yes, ma’am.”
Nalin just shakes her head, turning and shooing you away. “Go away, I have work to do.”
Teeth clench hard when you stand up, glad that no one is currently watching you. “See ya later, doc.”
“And don’t call me that. That was Hajir’s title.”
You call back over your shoulder, “Hate to break it to you, Nalin. But you are the doc now. Better get used to it.”
Steady, painful steps guide you to the airlock. Every third step sends strong waves of sudden sparks shooting up and down from your knee, making your steps stutter. Just enough to notice if someone was paying attention.
Hot, sharp, burning. The sensations rotated, rolling out further with each step. Stronger with every movement, making your teeth grind, swallowing pained sounds. There’s a brief reprieve when the airlock closes behind you, blocking any potentially watching eyes from your small agony.
Allowing a few moments to acknowledge your pain, bending down and pushing your fingers into your knee again. Willing the pain to fizzle down into something manageable. Something no one would look twice at. The pressure does help to an extent, pain lessening around each finger tip painted light blue from the kneading force against the offending joint. Though, it doesn’t last long.
Hands quickly pull away and back snaps straight as the airlock hisses open, forcing you to put back on a brave face. Eyes scan the various faces in the outer cave before you force yourself forward again. Thankfully, most seemed to be fully engaged in whatever conversations they were already in, worries being passed around. Not even giving you and your slight limp the time of day. Perfect.
Your pace is slower than it normally is as you make your way to the back stairs, knuckles paling significantly when you finally grab the railing. You take no notice of observant eyes tucked into a corner. Not noticing how they watched you hobble slightly up each step. How you used the railing as a crutch to continue on and up out of sight.
A cramp was forming in your hand by the time you let go of the railing, choosing instead to drag your palm along the cave wall. It was cool to the touch, comforting against warmed skin. If it wasn’t for everyone inside you might’ve just sunk down right there against the wall. But there were people inside, a lot of people. People who would make this whole thing into a bigger deal then it needed to be.
So you pushed on, out the mouth of the cave, up the small hill to the small cliff side. Away from prying eyes and pushy questions. Hiding behind small saplings, just starting to grow tall enough to obscure you from view if you sat down.
Thirty minutes. You got thirty minutes of peace before snapping twigs disrupt fingers aching from persistently massaging your knee. Ears twist around already picking up on the familiar footsteps. A small teasing smile pulls at your lips, leaning back on your hands, giving your fingers a break. “Did you come to bother me?”
A short grunt sounds beside you as he lowers to join you, knee close enough to bump yours if he wanted. “Something is wrong.” Ah, so he saw. Of course he did. There was no use in ignoring him, you’d learned a while ago he would not drop things. Even when asked sometimes.
Your tail lashes in short bursts behind you unconsciously, brushing through tickling grass. “Promise you won’t tell anyone?”
So’lek doesn’t answer for a moment, eyes locked down on the slightly purple knee you’d just been kneading. “Yes.”
A small pause drapes over you, searching for the words and the courage to say them. Hands plant firmly next to you, lifting your legs and turning to face him, feet tucked under bent knees. The shift in movement clearly shocks him for a second, brow raising just a touch before he turns too. One leg still hanging over the edge, the other tucked up, foot under knee. A deep breath, “It’s my leg.”
His eyes flick down again, purple slightly more faded than a minute ago. “Does it hurt?”
“Sort of.”
So’lek is quiet as he processes your words, confused and trying to understand. “What do you mean?”
A small breath is sighed out, face scrunching slightly as you think of a way to explain everything. “Do you remember what I looked like after the bombing? The way I was hurt?”
“I try not to."
Lips purse fully unamused, “I’m trying to be serious right now.”
“As am I. It is not a fond memory to remember.”
Your eyes flick down a deep sigh leaving you. You hadn’t thought about it like that. Of course seeing allies hurt or killed wasn’t great to remember. “Sorry, I just.. When I was like that something was missing, right? A part of me.”
He doesn’t answer but you know he knows exactly what you’re referring to. Your missing leg. “I might not have been conscious during that, but that doesn’t mean my mind was unaware.” Fingers scratch through loose braids beneath your ear before sliding down to rest in your lap. “Humans call it phantom pain. Normally it happens when a limb is severed. The mind forgets the limb is gone and just remembers the pain it felt when the limb was removed.”
A small chuckle to lighten the mood doesn’t quite work, but it eases something inside you regardless. “It’s like my mind forgets that the body that lost that limb is dead.” Fingers move to your left knee, planting your foot to bring it up into view. “I feel pain here. Sometimes sharp and shooting like lightning, other times dull and hot, like my leg is on fire from the knee down.”
“Is there a cure?” His voice pulls your eyes away from the offending limp, head rocking lightly side to side.
“Yes and no. Sometimes just reminding the mind that it’s still there helps; looking, touching. Walking around barefoot has been helping with that some. But there’s things we can’t do. Medicines we can’t replicate the same, therapies. I mean, we could probably try to find local replacements but,” your palm wraps around your kneecap letting the heat seep in slowly. “I don’t want the others to know, not yet at least. There’s too much to do and with everything that’s happened in the last couple of weeks, we need all hands on deck.”
So’lek is quietly listening, soft and attentive. “You are telling me.”
You nod holding his gaze, “I trust you. You’ve done so much for me, so much that I didn’t deserve.” So’lek makes a move to interrupt you but stops when you raise your hand. “There was no reason for you to help me the way you did. The things you did, helped and guided me through. It was kind. A kindness that I will repay one day.”
“There is no need.”
Shoulders raise, head tilted to look over the trees. An almost teasing look sent from the corner of your eyes. “Maybe not, but I’m still going to.”
Your attention slowly drifts over the tree tops, watching birds flock in the distance. Kite manta float slowly through the branches, carefree. So’lek watches you, studies the smile dancing on your lips. The way your eyes soften when you find something pretty in the distance. Observing the small jump in your eyebrows and shoulders when something bursts between distant trunks, animals playing or hunting. Living. He doesn’t want to break your peace, but the need for something else was stronger. “Does it hurt now?”
A light hum pairs with your words. “A little,” you curl your fingers a bit to shake some stiffness free. “But I gotta give my fingers a break. Or they might lock up when I need to do something later.”
His hand extends, palm up. A silent offer. “Let me.”
You study him, head shaking at his sudden offer. “So’lek, I can’t-.”
Fingers brush lightly against your calf, eyes steady. “I am offering to help. Give your fingers a break, let me.” He waits, moving only when you nod lightly, fingers wrapping under your knee to pull you a bit closer. You do an awkward shimmy as he lays your leg flat over his lap, waiting for you to settle first.
You knew he would be gentle, his actions over the last few weeks had solidified that knowledge. That doesn’t stop the small reaction to how soft his touch was. Fingers gingerly pressed above and below your knee, moving in small circles. “Is this too hard?” His words snap your attention from his hands, a light flush crawling up your neck.
“No, it feel nice.” He nods, palms flattening some against your leg. Letting the heat from them settle down through muscle into the bone, easing more tension. It really did feel nice.
___
Nose crinkles slightly as you squint, eyes scanning the sky line and ignoring the bright sunlight beating down on the abandoned site. The rifle’s strap digs uncomfortably into your shoulder, metal warm against your hip. A constant reminder of what could happen and a welcome weight, if you were being truthful.
You can hear Priya muttering behind you. Can hear the others working as quickly as they could. If you were being honest, you’d been torn about coming out here. Between Priya’s earlier comments during the rush, ‘No one would blame you or think badly if you needed more time’. And Anqa’s not so subtle questioning, ‘You sure you’re good to go? Nalin gave the okay?’.
A small part of you knew they were right, knew that no one would look at you differently. That didn’t change the fact that you being here, out where anything could happen, was important. Not just for you, but for the others to see that you weren’t something the RDA had broken. That you were still in this fight with everyone else. Also didn’t change the fact you’d almost smacked the both of them upside the back of the head for their comments. There was no way you were going to let them risk their necks while you sat back.
And there was another matter playing a factor in all of this. Time. Of course it would’ve been great to have more time. More time to process everything that’s happened, more time to deal with personal issues. But time was a luxury. One that you, and anyone else, couldn’t settle into anymore. There had been enough time to wallow, enough time to process the immediate issues. And there would be time after. Time you could use however you needed.
But for right now you needed to step back into place and step up where everyone needed you to be. Step up where others had failed and were no longer trusted. That was more important now than ever as Mercer’s shadow continued to grow and cover this land.
A familiar cry fills the air, accompanied by heavy wings touching down and soft familiar steps. Your lips twitch, hand raising to block the beating light behind the welcomed shadow. “Took you long enough.”
A small scoff, “I was a little preoccupied, Keke.”
“That sounds like an excuse.”
Tamtey just shrugs, “It’s the truth. I’ve been pretty busy as of late.”
Your hand drops to poke at his stomach, feeling a small swat on your knuckles. “Right, yes, of course. Can’t demand too much of our local diplomat lest you fly away before I can say three words to you.”
You watch him straighten slightly at the title, pleased to be seen as such. To fill that role his people held for so long. Then his expression shifts to the gravity of the situation. “Priya called, said it was bad.”
All notes of teasing leave your face. Pri was right, this whole situation was bad, really bad. “It is. It’s really bad, Tamtey. She’s up on the platform there.” Tamtey goes to move then pauses, eyeing you a bit too closely. “Seriously, go on.”
What little hesitation that held him back vanished, “You’re feeling okay?”
You smile, hands gesturing up and down, “Never been better, Tam. Now go before Anqa’s distraction wears off.”
Tamtey’s hand reaches out, squeezing yours before going to see how he could help. You wait until he’s fully out of ear shot before sucking a hiss in between your teeth. While So’lek had helped immensely earlier, there was still a dull lingering pain that would flash when you moved too quickly.
Frustration fills you, from your toes up to your eyes. This had to stop. You had to get this under control before more people started to notice. It was bad enough you’d actually told So’lek earlier, while leaving others in the dark. And you were sure Nalin and Tamtey were getting close to seeing through your lies too.
You just had to hold on long enough to stop Mercer and Harding. Once they were gone, wiped fully from this world, then you could relax. Divulge the pains you’d kept hidden under noses and take the verbal lashing from your friends and family.
Yeah, once you had your family back.
___
You find him crouching in front of the memorial wall, same time he always did. Bitter regret and guilt sits low in your stomach as you watch him from the airlock. You knew he wouldn’t be upset with you, not for any of the things you’d decided you were guilty of. Though that didn’t stop the small quiet voice inside.
If you’d just been a little faster in recognizing something was wrong. If you hadn’t been so wrapped up in your own problems. If you hadn’t been so blind to the growing issue, had been able to help Priya warn people, then maybe the lives lost would’ve been halved. Maybe you wouldn’t have to watch friends mourn loved ones that could have been saved that night.
Quiet steps lead you over, crouching down next to him. “Hey, Jin.”
He doesn’t look over to you, eyes glued where they were each and every time. “Hey.” Nothing else is said for a while, both of you just looking. Remising the lives you’d known. The lives that were no longer there. Reliving pain. Learning to put it away. He breaks the silence first, “You know, I’m glad you’re okay. Sorry I haven’t said anything until now.”
“I’m sorry, Jin. If I hadn’t been so spaced out, if I’d paid just a little more attention.. things might’ve been different.”
“You can’t blame yourself, you know that.” He elbows you lightly to draw your eyes over, “Besides, Dani would’ve hated it if she knew you were blaming yourself.”
He was right. If there was anything Dani was known for it was stopping ‘the BS’ in its tracks. Those were the exact words she’d use. The thought makes you smile. It’s all too easy to picture. She’d stand in front of you, pointing and wagging her finger to prove her point. ‘There’s nothing you could’ve done to change the outcome. What’s the point in shouldering blame that was never yours to begin with?’
“She was really good at calling people out for shouldering too much, wasn’t she?”
Jin shakes his head, “Yeah, Dani was good at it. Really good. I once told her, in another life, she would’ve made a half decent therapist.”
The thought of Dani sitting in a chair all prim and proper while people pay her to help work through their problems amuses you way too much. So much that it makes you laugh. Hard. Like one hand to your stomach and the other resting on the cave wall to balance yourself kinda hard. “Dani? A therapist?”
“She laughed when I said it too. Said she wasn’t made to listen to people’s problems just call ‘em out.” A smile tugs at his lips, remembering the face she’d pulled when he’d said it. The absolute dumbfounded smile of someone who knows they’re talking to someone half stupid for even suggesting the idea. “Still, maybe with different life experiences. I could maybe see it.”
“Oh yea, she’d push some big ‘ole glasses up her nose and click her pen. Telling people exactly what they should say to family that screws them over.” You finally control a bit of your laughter, “She would’ve never taken anyone seriously enough to give good advice or actual guidance. She was way too much of a tough love kinda gal.”
That pulls a quiet laugh from Jin, the situation all too easy to picture. “Can you imagine her just chucking the notepad when someone ultimately pisses her off?”
Eyes lock onto Dani’s photo, staring back. You can almost see the downright displeasure in her eyes at the topic. “Absolutely.”
The laughter eases into something comfortable. Something that didn’t need to be broken unless chosen. And Jin almost chooses not to, almost decides the words were unnecessary. Unwanted by both. You watch from the corner of your eye him fighting with himself. Do I? Do I not? It’s written all over his face.
Then he decides. “Don’t take this the wrong way but,” he takes a deep breath to focus emotion better. “Teylan’s done something that can’t be forgiven.” Your eyes drag over to him when he turns his head to face you. “I don’t think I could ever forgive him for this.”
You don’t respond. How were you supposed to? How could you sit there and defend his actions? His decisions. So you don’t. You let Jin sit in the betrayal, knowing it wouldn’t matter even if you did defend your youngest brother.
Some things just can’t be forgiven.
___
You’re left alone for the second half of the day, busying yourself. Pulling one rifle from the rack, pulling it apart, cleaning it, putting it back together. Then repeating. Over and over again. The repetition was nice, something to focus on that wasn’t crippling pain or guilt.
Small footsteps come up behind you, choosing to stop a few feet away, standing quietly. Eyes stay trained on the barrel you were currently cleaning, fingers curled tighter then they should’ve been. Movements jerking some under scrutinizing eyes. “What do you want?”
“You don’t have to be happy to see me but it still hurts seeing you do this to yourself.” Alma’s voice was unwelcome and unwanted. Yet, that never seemed to stop her before.
“I don’t feel anything when I see you, Alma.” Cloth pulls free, cleaner than you’d thought it’d be. “All I’m doing is making sure our equipment works, how is that a bad thing?”
“Don’t play coy with me. You forget that I’ve known you for most of your life. I know when you’re hiding things.” She has the audacity to wag her finger at you like you’re a child.
You do what you can to ignore her, clicking the bolt back in place before setting the gun back on the rack. “Is that so?” Pulling another one off and stripping it to clean.
Her voice carried over the magazine that was stuck, watching you struggle to not break it before it clicks free. “You aren’t going to just hurt yourself when you finally collapse, you’ll hurt everyone who cares about you too.”
“Oh, are you including yourself in that?” Legs shifted slightly to the right, dragging her boots into your peripheral.
“I know that I’ve been cruel to you, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you kid.”
You peek one eye down the barrel, seeing some of the buildup resting inside. “Right, I forget that you naturally threaten those you care about. My bad, I’ll do better to remember that in the future.”
“That was jealousy.” Small fragments of frustration pops through before she reigns it in. “It’s something I am trying to work on.”
Fingers twist a new rag, pushing it down the barrel. “So you knew and still chose to take it out on me. Yeah, that makes it so much better, Alma.”
“Just,” she chews on her bottom lip, clearly searching for the right words. Careful for once. “Think about the others too. The kids have lost so much already, I don’t think losing their,” the next words are laced with barbs. “I don’t think losing their sister will bode well with everything that’s happened.”
“It’s war Alma,” eyes finally rise to meet hers. “People die all the time.” You watch her long enough to make sure she understands the underlying tone in your words. This time, you were threatening her. This time, you wouldn’t have her back in a fight.
Priya’s voice breaks the tension. “Hey, we got another fissure site. We’re heading out now, if you want to come.”
Eyes still burrowing into Alma’s, “I’ll meet you guys at the Samson.”
___
You don’t hear him come up behind you. Don’t even know he was there until a hand wraps firmly around your wrist, tugging you down the worn path just out of ear shot. Ignoring the looks people give each other behind your backs. Ignoring Anqa’s warnings that you have to leave soon and your own protests.
“So’lek, what’s wrong?” He pauses, watching a herd of Meer deer run off into the brush. “So’lek, I have to go soon.”
His grip softens, fingers shifting to almost rub along your skin. Your voice helps to calm the storm starting to brew inside before he remembers why he pulled you away. Alma’s words sitting present in his mind, ‘You know something is going on with her. If she goes out now, she’s going to get herself or others hurt, maybe killed. Talk to her, So’lek, she might listen to you.’ Lingerings of people noticing something was off, that something was wrong. Saying something to him knowing that you just brush off concerns with a painted on smile.
“So’lek?”
His eyes shift down to your knee, the secret you’d shared with him just days earlier. Entrusted to him. Fingers tighten again at the thought of something happening, something far away he would not be able to help with. “The pain. You are not controlling it.”
The words visually stun you, blinking at him. “I’m doing just fine.”
“No, you are not. There are whispers, people are noticing.”
“So’lek, where is this coming from?” Your hand twists up, fingers soft against his forearm. “I’m fine, you know this. I would’ve come to you if I wasn’t.”
His hand shifts further up, thumb brushing over sensitive skin. “It is showing to those who are paying attention.”
So’lek watches the cold realization creep down your spine, tail turning stiff. “Did.. did Alma put you up to this? Did she say something to you?”
Fingers tighten, “She has said something. She is not the only one.”
Your mind struggles to wrap around his words, make sense of the fact he was trusting Alma’s judgment over yours. “So you just take her word for it? Over mine?”
“It is showing to those who are paying attention. Those that care.” Pulling you closer, hand raising to your other arm. “If this pain is persistent, if it is a genuine issue, then you cannot go.”
You jerk back in his hold, eyebrows pinched tight. “Excuse you?”
“It is not something to be ashamed of, pain is natural, a part of life. But you have to know when to listen to your body. Not go diving head first into a fight.” Palms run up your arms to your shoulders, trying to ground you. The thoughts he knows are a swirling mess inside your head. “You should stay here, where your family is. Rest and stay safe.”
“No one is safe, So’lek. You know that.” Your eyes harden, color darkening with your mood. “Do you not trust me? Do you really think I don’t know my own body? What I can and cannot handle?”
“That is not it. A few weeks ago, this was not your body. This is not something you can handle. Not now, when you are still coming to terms with everything. Finally accepting who you are now. Having these pains.. I cannot allow you to throw all of that away just to fight.”
His words hang heavy, building on the wall forming between you.
“Oh, I see now. This isn’t about the fact that no one thinks I can handle myself.” Your finger jabs into his chest, ears pinned down against your head. “This is about you still hating the fact I’m a dreamwalker, even when this wasn’t my choice.” The crack in your voice breaks something inside So’lek. “You promised me, So’lek. You promised me you wouldn’t say anything and now you’re throwing that trust back in my face.”
“I did not break that promise. Tamtey has asked multiple times now if you are truly okay, as has Ri’nela. They are not as blind as you would believe them to be. But I did not tell them the truth. I did not tell anyone who has asked.”
“No, you just confirmed to them that something is wrong though. That’s close enough.”
Fingers tighten again, pulling you closer. Trying to make you see reason. To see his side on this. Instead, his next words do nothing but cement your resolve. “Please, do not go. Stay.”
“No, So’lek, that’s not your decision to make.”Arms raise to push him off of you, the warmth from your skin lingering on his palms. “I am the only person who can decide that. Not you. Not Tamtey or Ri’nela. Not Priya or Anqa.” Your finger digs into the cool metal of his chest plate, tip turning paler with each name. “And definitely not Alma. I decide what I can handle. Me.”
His face remains controlled, still set in his thoughts. Decision made. “You are still experiencing pain, this will only get you hurt.”
A frozen moment passes, then another. Your finger, that was still pressing into his chest lifts quickly, almost brushing against his nose. “Don’t you dare say anything to Tamtey or Ri’nela. And if I find out you told Alma,” he watches how your breath shakes and your eyes turn misty. “If I find out you told that,” watches you take a shaky breath in, face scrunching in anger. “That bitch anything, then I will not forgive you. Keep the promise you made to me. The one I shared because I placed my trust in you to not turn this back around on me. To not use it to keep me on the sidelines while everyone else is out risking their lives.”
A quick push of air leaves his nose, his hand raising to push yours out of his face. “I am not-.”
“Yes, yes you are.” Your voice lowers, eyes flicking to the others loading equipment into the Samson. Getting ready to leave. “Don’t you ever talk to me like that again. I am not something to own, So’lek. To control. Speak to me like that again, and I will never speak to you again.”
So’lek feels his heart still at your words, ears twisting back. “I do not-.” He pulls in a deep breath letting the accompanying sigh push him a step back. Lets his frustration rise to yours. “You were barely standing when you came back from the last fissure site. How much longer do you think you can hide this?” His tail stiffens behind him and fingers flex to reach out again. “What do you think will happen if the RDA attacks, rains down and pins you in place?”
“There’s no reports to think we’d have any contact with the RDA. No sightings of soldiers, amps, any RDA of any kind-.”
“There is always a possibility.” His voice cuts through yours, watching your tail start to thrash back and forth. A small sense of desperation fills the air and he steps forward again, crowding in close. Close enough for his breath to wash over your face. “I do not want to see you get hurt.” His voice lowers, “Or killed.”
He hopes the words he does not say reach you, ‘I would not survive it.’
You take a step back, shrugging and shaking your head. “Then don’t look. This decision isn’t yours to make, whether you agree or not.” This time, Priya’s voice calls over asking if you were still coming. “Gimme a sec, Pri.” He doesn’t move when you go to step around him. Doesn’t try to stop you anymore. “I’m going.”
“You are.” His expression hardens back into something controlled, something unreadable, when you look at him once more over your shoulder. Every word exchanged ricocheted between you, making the bond you’d had, the trust, feel miles away. He stayed rooted in place long after you boarded the Samson. Even longer after it raised off the ground and disappeared from view.
Thoughts plaguing him with every second that passes. He should’ve insisted more. Should’ve made you see what you were doing was going to get you hurt or killed. Another thought jumps forward. Maybe he should’ve made his feelings more clear. Surely that would’ve opened your eyes to his desperation to keep you safe. Alive.
His eyes drift down from where you’d disappeared behind clouds and the mountain's edge. No, even if he’d laid out exactly where his feelings were you still would’ve gone. Still would’ve insisted on taking your place among them. It brought a small smile to his face despite his feelings on the matter. It was so undeniably.. you.
You’d better come back in one piece. Back to your family. Back to him.
___
The wind was strong today, whipping loose hairs up against your eyes. Didn’t really matter what way you turned, they were going to be in your way regardless. Sitting on the small jutted ledge, left leg dangling just above Priya and a few others gathering samples. There wasn’t supposed to be RDA activity here yet. But with them, you never knew.
Your mind was occupied, thoughts drifting far away from the plains. From the friends you were meant to be watching over. Too wrapped up in the conversation, the argument, you’d had earlier. Consumed by the fact that So’lek seemed to have so little trust in your judgement. To place more value in Alma’s thoughts over your own. It left a deep pit sitting in your stomach.
If he had just talked to you about it, talked to you about concerns he clearly had. Had told you he was worried instead of demanding you sit off on the sides. Choosing to see you as this weak thing that couldn’t handle anything.
You’d thought he had more faith in you, in your abilities. Had thought after all this time, after fighting side by side, that he would’ve trusted you more. Had thought.. had thought he was starting to like you. He’d been so gentle with you, had been opening up and willing to spend his free time with you. Sit and talk with you. Even though you were in this body now, you’d thought he didn’t care about that.
Clearly you’d been wrong.
Low, chopped whirring cuts through the air dragging you to the present. Eyes watch the slow moving bird cutting through the sky. That’s not a good sign. “Hey, Pri?”
At first all you get is a noncommittal hum, much too distracted. It takes another prodding of her name to get her attention, “Yeah?”
You jerk your head up, pointing. “I think we got company.”
She follows your finger pointing at a wyvern flying by, too close for comfort. “I think we’re fine. They should be high enough to not see us.”
Your eyes stay locked on the aircraft, almost certain it looks like it’s slowing down. “I don’t think so, Pri.”
You’re quick to jump down, peaking out under the large rock to get a better look. Yeah, no, they were definitely slowing down. “Maybe, they’ve finished their route and are heading back?” Her radio crackles, “Tamtey? Oh, yeah things are going great. We should be heading back soon. Oh, that? Just a patrol that passed overhead, but they should be too far to see us-.” Immediately the aircraft turns around, mocking her and making her eat her words. “Yeah, no, they’re turning around.”
Words said earlier are heard again, echoing at the edges of your mind. ‘What do you think will happen if the RDA attack?’
“Quick everyone hide!” Priya rounds the others up, grabbing what equipment they could drag inside the small cave with them. The sound of rotors getting closer makes them move faster. Priya is the last to stand in the mouth of the cave turning to you. “You coming? They’re getting closer.”
What would happen? Guess now’s the time to find out. “No, go with the others. If it comes down to it and Tamtey takes too long, I’ll give you guys time to escape and rendezvous with Anqa.”
“What? We wouldn’t leave-.”
“Kinda don’t have a choice Pri.” Your hand pushes between her shoulder blades, “Go, it’ll be fine. I promise.”
Priya looks over her shoulder before ducking into the cave, “You can’t promise that.” She was right, but it wouldn’t be smart for everyone to hide together. The whirring was getting closer and closer. You had to move, now, or they’d spot you for sure and you were not about to lead them to the others.
Cool, damp walls press uncomfortably into your back as heavy steps are carried across the wind. Amps and soldiers, maybe ten total. Static crackling is loud in your ear, pulling attention away from the soldiers walking past. “Keke, can you hear me?”
You press further back into the mouth of the cave, as an amp passes by, gun swinging to and fro aimlessly. Two soldiers flanking it on either side, talking loudly without a care. “Hey, didn’t you say you saw a blue here?”
“I don’t know, everything blends in together when you’re that high up.”
“If there is one, I call dibs.”
“Not how that works man. It’s kill or be killed. First come, first serve kinda deal.”
More static accompanies a slightly frantic voice, “Keke, are you there? What’s happening?”
Fingers raise, voice low and controlled. “RDA’s here. There aren’t many, less than a dozen.”
“Are you safe? What about the others?”
“They’re hiding, RDA hasn’t found anyone yet.”
“Can they get away? Meet up with Anqa?”
“No, their exit is cut off.” Another soldier passes by oblivious to your hiding spot. “Are you close?”
“I’ll be there soon, wait for me.”
Eyes peak out around the rock walls, following the closest patrols. “The largest rock in the middle, I’ll meet you at the base facing the cliffs.”
You press back as another soldier passes by, “Are you sure?”
“Tamtey, I won’t let them find the others. If I have to engage, I will.”
A sharp sigh makes your comms pop slightly, “Fine. Stay low and stay safe.”
“You too, keep Temek quiet and fast.”
“She always is.”
Two minutes. You allow two minutes of watching the patrol routes they establish before you go to move. Waiting, watching two soldiers pass by each other, pausing for a few moments side by side. Chatting loudly before walking in the opposite direction.
Quiet feet creep forward, one after another. Keeping as low to the ground as you possibly can be, using your hands to help shift weight through tall grass. Freezing when a soldier passes by before moving again. Creeping slowly through the tall tickling grass lining the rocks. Slowly working your way towards the cliffs.
A rustle comes from behind forcing breath to still, one hand reaching back to rest on your gun. Something that people never seem to realize, smaller feet make a lot of noise if they weren’t careful. A lone soldier comes walking up from the cliff side, fiddling with his belt, yawning loudly.
His eyes lock on yours, shock resting for a moment before he goes to raise his gun. A small shout is cut off by your left hand wrapping underneath his mask-covered jaw. Your right hand raises without thinking, resting on the opposite temple. Right hand pushes while the left hand pulls hard and quick. Small hands fall down and silence wraps around you again. Hard swallowing pushes down the bile rising in your throat.
That was the first time. The first time you’d ever killed someone with your bare hands. The first time you’d felt the life leave someone. Felt heat dying, watched eyes lose focus. Caused something so violent without pointing a gun.
Footsteps break the all consuming thoughts. They were softer, larger. Then a hand touches your arm, eyes shifting between you and the soldier still in your hands. “Keke, are you okay? Where’s Priya and the others?”
You look at him for a second, dragging the soldier into the tall grass. Hiding the evidence from immediate view. “In the cave, the one under the largest rock. It won’t be long until the RDA starts poking around there.”
“Do you know how many there are?”
“Less than ten.” You gesture to the grass, “He’s the only I’ve come into contact with.”
“What do you think?”
Eyes flick over him, thinking. “I’ll draw their fire, cause a distraction.” Your hand pulls at the rifle’s strap, “This is all I have. It’s loud enough to make them think there’s only one threat.”
His fingers play with the drawstring digging into his chest, “While I sneak around, taking them out one by one.”
A playful smile greets his cheeky one, “Exactly.”
___
Cool, misty air sits lightly in your lungs as you draw in deep breaths, rolling your neck. You’d hated the thought of sitting inside, where heavy air made everyone restless while waiting for the clan leaders to arrive. It was better to take the few moments of peace you could before having to deal with.. Eyes flick open, watching mist curl through the trees and around the rock walls.
You weren’t ready to deal with Alma and her faux concern. And you certainly weren’t looking forward to being around So’lek right now. There’d been enough time since your ‘talk’ to calm down. Been more than enough time to reconcile if you’d wanted. But there also hadn’t been enough time to erase the words he’d chosen. To erase the feeling sitting low in your chest, squeezing your heart.
His words sat heavy on your mind, making you wonder if they were his or Alma’s. You didn’t want to believe that the moments shared over the last few weeks, the time shared, was misread. That you’d misread the underlying tone of it all.
A loud voice interrupts your thoughts, “Ah, ma ‘eylan, it is good to see you alive and moving again.” You know that voice. You look up, seeing the pair dismount their ikran.
“Nesim, Minang, it is good to see you both.” The smile was audible in your words.
Nesim stops in front of you while Minang sends you a small smile, working her way inside first. “I am sad that we only meet in times of war. When this is all over, come to the plains. We will make a Zeswa out of you yet.”
You shoot her a teasing smile, “Careful Nesim, or others will think you are soft on me.”
“She is soft on you.” Minang’s voice carries from just inside the cave's mouth, mocking her sister.
“A leader knows when to be soft and when to be strict.” Her eye flashes in a teasing manner. She was joking with you.
“Come, I am sure Tamtey would like to see you.” You both walk together into the cave, spouting short banters back and forth. It may be a time of war but every moment that wasn’t weighed down with it was welcome. You pay no attention to the eyes watching you from across the room.
Nesim does. “You have a second pair of eyes today.”
“There are many eyes that worry for me. This is my body now.”
She pauses at that. “You live as this?” You nod, not looking at her. The hiss of the air lock is nothing compared to the silence of her understanding your situation. “Good.” This draws your eyes back to her. “Eywa has seen something in you if she has gifted you this life until your last days. Better that, then dying before I can see more of those colors you have.”
A snort leaves you when you both continue inside. “Haven’t seen enough?”
“I have only half my vision ma ‘eylan. I will need to see more to believe it was you.”
Ri’nela’s voice calls the both of you out of your joking. “Everyone is here, come.”
The meeting was heavy, the gravity of the situation hanging clear as day over everyone around the holotable. Ri’nela’s voice carries that heaviness further, “Mercer’s next excavation will destroy much of this land.”
Nesim cuts in, agitation clear in her words. “Then what are we waiting for? We should thunder through their gates and drag the little man from his hiding place.”
Ri’nela’s head shakes, “Mercer’s base, it’s impenetrable.”
“Then our ikran will bring death from above.” The Aranahe’s Olo’eyktan was quick to vouch for his clan’s strength in air support.
So’lek argues back, “You see these turrets? We’d be cut from the sky.”
Minang joins in, “Are you saying not even a storm of Zeswa could strike a worthy blow?”
“My people know what it is to struggle alone. There is strength in unity. Aranahe, Zeswa, Kame’tire, and Sarentu.” Anufi’s voice was gentle, calling for a unified strike.
Tamtey’s voice cuts through the clan leader’s debating. “Tsmuke, what do you think?”
It was uncomfortable as their eyes settled on you. The way some eyes softened as they looked at you, understanding on a level that made your skin crawl if you thought too long on it. The way new ones settled apprehensively, uncertain about the dreamwalker they’d never met before. Only hearing through whispers on traveled tongues and from Tamtey briefly.
Their eyes settle on you, wanting your opinion. Looking to you now as a leader, for expertise. It was a role you’d been forced into. But one you couldn’t ignore. “Ri’nela and So’lek are right.” Fingers pull up clear images of Mercer’s drill, the sentry and anti-air turrets plainly shown. “While these are operational, no one is getting inside. We wouldn’t be able to attack Mercer’s base head on even if we tried. We have to find another way in or a way to take down these defenses so we can get inside.” Your fingers tap Priya’s shoulders, “Priya, you said you found a weakness in his system?”
Her shoulders snapped straight as she fiddled with the holotables’ system. “Mercer really stepped up his game. See these sensors? It’s a sonar defense system. Which sounds scary, and it is, but get this. It uses an unsecured connection. A weak link! Silly, right? I mean, if someone flies up there and scrambles their system, Alex can hack in from somewhere nearby. We can disable the drill!”
Tamtey nods, “I’ve seen those before, I’ll do it.”
“Then we will fly with you, support you.”
His head shakes, “Thank you, but with those sensors, the fewer the better.”
Ka’nat’s voice is heavy with the next question. “And if you fail?”
Your voice cuts through, “Then, be ready to move your people. We’ve really only got one shot with this.”
You stayed glued to the holotable as the others filed out. There was still so much to do, plans to make, backups to consider. The cloud over your head seemed to grow as you considered more scenarios, more situations and tactics that Mercer could use. Would use. He wasn’t going to take it lightly once this plan was in motion. You just hoped Alex would be able to work fast enough to get him offline before he made a move with that drill.
You’re so consumed in your thoughts, flicking between images, that you don’t hear quiet footsteps. Only noticing when fingers wrap around your wrist, tugging you away from the table some. “Tsmuke.” Tamtey’s voice is soft, ready for you to pull away.
“What is it, Tamtey?”
He sighs, fingers tightening. “What’s going on?”
You blink, caught off guard by his forwardness. “What do you mean-?”
“Cmon Keke, you can’t really expect that Ri’nela and I don’t see something is on your mind. You know us too well to see when we’re lying and we know you. So, out with it.” The annoyance in his words is palpable. Uncomfortable.
You watch him for a moment, torn. “Tamtey, really, it’s nothing bad.”
He grabs your other wrist, pulling you to fully face him. “Then tell us! We’re supposed to be your family, people that rely on one another.” You watch his brow pinch, ears and tail falling. “Are you, are you still mad about the transfer? Is that why you aren’t speaking to us? Avoiding us?”
“No, no, nothing like that.” Your hands are gentle, palms resting on his cheeks. Deciding to give him some truth, “I’m just worried. About your brothers, where they disappeared to, if they’re safe. Mercer and Harding. What they’re trying to do to this land.” Hands shift from cheeks to shoulders, pulling him in close. Hand resting on the back of his head, thumb brushing against his temple. “I’m worried what facing them head-on could bring, to all of us, but especially you and Ri’nela.” Tamtey relaxes some into the hug, arms wrapping tightly around your waist. Head dropping heavily on your shoulder. “I don’t want to lose anymore of this family.”
This time, you hear another set of soft footsteps, “You won’t, we won’t allow it.”
Ri’nela accepts the hand you extend, dragging her into the hug as well. “I love you both, so very much. It would kill me to have anything happen to you. That’s where my mind has been. I’m sorry my worry allowed you both to think I was mad at you, for any reason.”
Reassurances are muffled against your shoulders, sinking further into the embrace. It really wasn’t okay, your half truth, but you’d let it all slide for now. There was so much to focus on and you wouldn’t distract them more than necessary.
Pulling back to look at them, palms resting on opposite cheeks, eyes flicking between them. “When Alex is ready, you fly as hard and as fast as Temek can. And you stay safe, Tamtey, do you hear me? Ri’nela and I will be watching over you from here.”
“Yes, Keke.”
You smile, letting them sink a bit further into your hands before pulling away. “I’ll be right back, okay? Then we can have dinner together tonight, if you want?”
Ri’nela perks up immediately at that, “I learned a new recipe from one of the Kame’tire I’ve been wanting to try.”
“Perfect.” Watching her drag Tamtey behind her, shaking your head.
Feet carry you quickly upstairs, hoping you hadn’t taken too long and missed her. Tight shoulders relax some as you walk outside, seeing the small conversing huddle a bit further down the path. “Nesim.” She turns from the group, gaze softening slightly at seeing you.
“Ah, little warrior. Come to bid me a farewell?” She places a hand on her sister’s arm and nods to Anufi before making her way over to you.
A smile worms its way onto your face, “That and other things.” You look over her shoulder at the two Tsahìk’s still in conversation. “I didn’t mean to pull you away, I could have waited.”
Nesim waves off your comment, “They are talking about healing, herbs and wrappings. I am not a healer, their talk bores me.” The corner of her mouth lifts, “I am much better suited at hunting and fighting.”
“Of course, how could I forget.”
Your smile falters as you remember why you followed her out. “Nesim, I am so sorry about your people. Their loss was unnecessary, a cruelty.”
Nesim allows your words to settle between you, silently observing you. You can hear soft words carried on the wind from halfway down the trail. Then her hand raises, palm resting on your shoulder, squeezing. “We will kill many when the time comes, little warrior. The Zeswa will not let this go silently.”
Another moment of silence wraps around you both, her palm warm on your shoulder. You debate with yourself for a moment before deciding to lighten the mood some. “You know you can’t keep calling me ‘little’, Nesim. We’re the same height now.”
She snorts, “It does not matter what form you take, little warrior. You will always be smaller.” To prove her point, her hand raises to rest on your head. Then drags it through the air, tapping the side of her fingers in the middle of her forehead. “See? Little.”
Eyes are drawn to movement. Yours to Minang ending her conversation over Nesim’s shoulder. Nesim’s to a lurking shadow over yours.
You smile softly, poking a finger at Nesim. “I will have to concede for now, but don’t expect me to drop it. I am barely shorter than you.”
In your attempt to keep the atmosphere light, you completely miss the stiffness in Nesim’s expression. Smile just a bit too tight to not match her words, gaze focused still on shadows. “Barely is enough.” Her gaze softens when it meets yours, “I look forward to seeing you fight for the people again.”
She makes a point of touching your shoulder again, this time both hands resting slightly longer than necessary, before turning to join her sister. Thoughts race as you watch her walk away, flooding your ears with roars. A question that you’d meant to save for later demands to be asked. Now.
“Nesim,” You almost falter when she stops and looks back. “Can I ask a favor of you?”
❁ I do not give consent to feed my work into ai. I do not give consent to copy, repost (stealing my work), translate, or publish any of my works in any way. ❁
PS: if im missing anyone from the tag list pls let me know and i’ll fix it asap. pretty sure i got everyone but my brain’s been scrambled lately so who knows
Tag list : @missfortune0u0 @chershire23 @lovelyinthesunlitsky @simpingdeadcharacters @just-another-idk @intervitadatura @t04styy @valinat @iindigo-1111 @ux-l3ee @m4ngo15 @yaaraz @cicadamothgoblin @eeorrrr @21-princess
pairings aged-up neteyam x tayrangi!female warrior
notes reader is ikeyni’s daughter, mean neteyam (dw he will grovel for this <3) crybaby neteyam, angst, she fell first and he fell harder, smut (p in v), oral (f&m receiving)
synopsis neteyam has always been the only boy who stirred your heart. as a man, he is everything you’ve ever wanted... and now that circumstances have finally drawn you closer, it feels like the perfect chance to make him see you. but with the looming war, the firstborn son of toruk makto has no room for distractions, and he won’t hesitate to push aside anyone who threatens his focus.
word count 17.7k
₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚
You leaned against one of the massive pillars of the war pavilion, idly braiding a strand of fiber for your new knife sheath. Usually, your senses would be filled with the smell of salt and moss that clung to the cliffs of your home in the Eastern Sea, but here, in the rainforest, it was mostly choked out by the heavy stench of fuel and burning forest, and around you, the war council was deep in debate.
Your mother stood tall with the other chieftains, gesturing sharply at a large map laid on a long table. Beside her stood your brother, the future Olo’eyktan of your clan, listening intently.
And then, there was the real view.
Neteyam stood just behind his father, Jake Sully. He was taller than most of the men in your clan, broad-shouldered, and muscled, taking after his father, even though he had the fierce beauty of his mother. He was listening to the strategy with that maddeningly intense, perfectly disciplined look he always wore. Always the dutiful son, the perfect soldier.
You bit your lip, a slow smirk spreading across your face. He was so incredibly handsome it was ridiculous, especially when he looks like he carried the weight of the entire world on his shoulders. You’ve always wondered what it would feel like to be on the receiving end of that intensity... To be the subject of his focus and determination.
You shivered at the thought of it, and your brother caught your eyes across the table. He noticed where you were staring, rolled his eyes, and mouthed, “Stop it.”
“Their supply lines are vulnerable here, along the gorge,” Jake Sully was saying, moving a stone on the ridge on the map. “But they’ve got turrets scanning the skies. If we fly in blind, we’re target practice.”
“We need a distraction,” Neteyam muttered, his brow furrowed as he stared at the map. “Someone fast enough to draw the attention away from the ground strike team, but agile enough to avoid getting hit. But it’s high risk.”
“My people are born on the wind,” Ikeyni spoke up. She placed a hand flat on the table, her sharp eyes shifting from Jake to his eldest son. “If you need someone who can deliver what you need, you take my daughter.”
Neteyam’s head snapped up. His golden eyes immediately finding yours from where you leaned against the pillar, as if he knew where exactly you had been standing. A frown instantly marred his handsome face and he turned back to your mother, his posture stiffening.
“Olo’eykte, with respect, the RDA has upgraded those tracking systems,” Neteyam argued, his voice tight with that dutiful edge you loved to mess with. “They aren’t just shooting blindly anymore. It is high risk. A single mistake, and the ikran and its rider are—”
“Are you saying I can’t handle it?”
You purred the words as you finally pushed off the pillar, sauntering closer to the table, tossing your half-braided sheath fiber aside. Every eye in the room tracked your movement, but yours were locked on the Omatikaya’s golden boy. You stopped right beside him, close enough that you felt the heat radiating from him. You tilted your head up, letting a slow smirk pull at your lips as you looked at his clenched jaw.
“If I didn’t know any better,” you murmured, leaning in just a fraction closer, “I’d think you were trying to keep me out of the sky to keep me safe. I didn’t realize you care that much?”
A sudden bark of laughter broke out from an elder across the table and the others followed suit. Meanwhile, your brother shook his head at your sheer audacity. Jake Sully’s lips twitched upward, a faint, amused glint in his eyes as he looked between you two, clearly remembering what it was like to be young and stubborn. Even the older, stern warriors around the table began to chuckle, the suffocating tension of the war efforts breaking open to let a little light in. It was a comforting reminder to the elders that despite the demons coming back, the youth were still acting their age.
Neteyam, however, did not laugh.
He let out a long, slow breath through his nose, his shoulders dropping a fraction as he looked down at you. His ears twitched back in mild annoyance, but he didn't step away from you. He was tolerant, as he always was, enduring your teasing with the patience of a tree weathering a storm. He had always known that you are a lethal asset to the people’s war efforts... But unfortunately, you are also a source of a massive, distracting headache.
“I care about the success of the mission,” Neteyam said, his voice dropping into a low register meant only for you. His gaze was incredibly intense up close, close to the kind of focus that had made you shiver imagining just moments ago. “We are planning a raid that could cost lives. This isn’t the time for games.”
Partly slighted at his doubt, you frowned. “I am completely serious,” you said, dropping the just enough to show the deadly huntress beneath. You motioned at the map right where the turrets were marked. “These are coastal winds. I’ve navigated treacherous cliff gaps like it’s a playground snce I was a child. My ikran and I will rise to the challenge, you’ll see.”
“Alright, alright, break it up,” Jake intervened, though the grin was obvious in his voice as he tapped the map. “If Ikeyni says she’s the one for the job, then she’s the one. Neteyam, you’ll be leading the ground insertion. That means your timing with the distraction has to be perfect.”
Neteyam tore his eyes away from you, nodding sharply to his father. “Yes, sir.”
But as the council began to break into smaller groups to discuss once more among themselves, Neteyam didn't immediately walk away. He stayed right where he was, his towering frame casting a shadow over you. He looked down at you, the exasperation fading into something quieter, something serious and heavy.
“It really is dangerous out there,” he said softly, his golden eyes searching yours. “The winds in the gorge are unpredictable.”
You matched his seriousness for a rare, passing second, to let him see that you are capable underneath all the flirting. “I know, Neteyam. But I’m faster than them. Trust me.”
He nodded, his jaw hardening. “I do trust you. Just... don't make me regret it.”
With a final, lingering look that left your heart hammering against your ribs, he turned to follow his father. You watched him go, your smirk slowly returning as you realized that for at least a few minutes, you had been the absolute center of his universe.
The next day, you were up before the first light, immediately going to where your ikran was roosting, smiling when you saw her already prepared, like always. “Ready, girl?“ you murmured, stroking her sleek, brightly patterned neck.
She screeched in response, a sharp, eager sound and you chuckled, mounting her back and connecting your kuru to hers, the familiar, rushing warmth of the tsaheylu flooding your senses. Your head swiveled to the side when you sensed a presence, seeing Neteyam stopping several paces away, already geared with his warrior cummerbund, longbow, amd chest knife sheath.
Your head tilted, admiring how handsome he looked as you smiled brightly. “Hi! Good morning,” you grinned. “Came to send me with a good luck kiss?”
He remained serious though, his eyes scanning your form on your ikran. “Be careful out there.” he said in a clipped tone, not waiting for a response before he turned away.
You chuckled, shaking your head. So serious, you thought, smirking. So handsome, too, anyway, the other part of your mind retorted and you rolled your eyes. You clicked your tongue and pulled at your ikran’s reins, making her surge up into the sky. You flew higher than usual, hiding in the thick clouds to scan high above the gorge. The sky was still a deep, bruised purple when the signal came through the comms secured to your ear.
“Pathfinder,” Jake Sully’s voice crackled, steady and calm. “Ground teams, position. You are clear to engage. Eye in the sky, you're up.”
A heartbeat later, a lower, tighter voice filtered through. “Be careful up there. Hit your marks.”
Neteyam.
Your smirk returned, invisible to him but it laced your voice enough for him to imagine it. “I heard that twice already, Neteyam. Are you so worried?” your honeyed teasing voice dripping through the comms.
You heard his groan and it was followed by a chuckle that sounded so much like Jake’s but it was cut short. “Just focus on the mission,” Neteyam’s voice snapped back through the earpiece.
You chuckled. “Watch the skies, Sully. Try not to blink, or you’ll miss me.”
Without waiting for a response, you clicked your tongue. Your ikran folded her wings and dove straight off the cliffside into the gaping maw of the gorge. The wind shrieked past your ears, whipping your braids wildly. Below, the metallic structures of the RDA outpost clung to the valley floor like a parasite. Within seconds, the base's automated defense grid woke up. Loud whirs echoed through the canyon as three massive turrets pivoted, their motion-tracking lasers sweeping the dark sky until they locked onto you.
“Now!” you hissed, leaning flat against your ikran's back.
You maneuvered your ikran in the sky as heavy explosive rounds tore through the air. The blasts should have scared you, but it surprised even you that it didn’t. You pulled sharply on the reins, banking hard to the left. A volley of bullet shattered the rocky cliffside right where you had been a millisecond before, reducing it to a powdery debris. You laughed out loud, pushing your mount into a tight, dizzying barrel roll, diving directly between the narrow gaps of the cliffs.
The tracking systems couldn't keep up. The automated turrets jerked violently, scrambling to overcorrect their aim as you flew through the blind spots, From your view high above, you watched Neteyam and his ground strike team. While the turrets were completely distracted by your earlier display, they swarmed out of the dense forest like shadows. Leading the charge, Neteyam moved with terrifying precision, breaching the perimeter fencing, dropping two RDA guards before they could even raise their weapons. Behind him, Lo'ak and the other warriors systematically planted charges on the supply crates and fuel lines.
Even from up above, your eyes found him effortlessly, admiring his swift and unyielding movements, completely commanding. He was a force of nature.
“Charges are live! Pull back, pull back!” You heard Neteyam’s voice bark through the comms. He looked up into the sky, his golden eyes scanning the smoke until he caught the bright, unmistakable red of your ikran’s wings looping through the clouds. “Y/N, disengage! Get out of there!”
Swooping low one last time, you let out a victorious battle cry as a massive explosion ripped through the base behind you. You looked and saw an image of a huge ball of fire consuming the turrets and the supply lines. The explosion gave your ikran the motivation to increase her speed, launching you up and out of the fiery gotge into the safety of the skies. The raid was a flawless success.
By the time you got back to Hometree, the adrenaline was still humming under your skin. You hopped down from your ikran, patting her flank affectionately as the other warriors cheered and celebrated the clean victory. No casualties for the party and a massive blow to the sky people. A smudge of black engine soot marred your cheek, your eyes searching the crowd.
Neteyam was standing near his father, catching his breath, his skin glistening with sweat and ash. He looked exhausted, but the heavy tension that usually held his shoulders tight had momentarily melted away. As if sensing your gaze, his head turned. His golden eyes locked onto yours across the clearing. You stared at him, raising your brow and tilting your chind up with a proud, triumphant grin that said, I told you so.
Neteyam watched you for a long moment. Then, slowly, a genuine, breathless smile broke across his handsome face. It was a rare, stunning sight that made your heart do a violent flip against your ribs. He broke away from his father and walked straight toward you, stopping just a foot away.
“You showboated,” he murmured, his voice low but devoid of the seriousness that usually laced it.
“I just gave them a show,” you corrected smoothly, crossing your arms. “There is a difference. And I did it.”
“You did,” Neteyam conceded, his eyes dropping to the soot on your cheek before rising to meet your gaze with an intensity that made you almost forget how to breathe. “It was an incredible show. You were incredible up there.”
Your breath hitched. For all your constant flirting and loud teasing, having his quiet praise directed entirely at you caught you completely off guard that the witty comeback died on your tongue, your cheeks warming under his stare.
Neteyam noticed your sudden silence, and a small, amused smirk, one that looked a lot like your own, as if he had just copied it, pulled at the corner of his lips.
“What's wrong?” he asked softly, stepping just a fraction closer. “Quiet now? I didn't realize it was that easy to shut you up.”
You stared up at him, your mouth slightly open. The proximity was intoxicating, and for someone who usually spent his time dodging your advances, he was occupying a lot of your personal space now.
Your eyes flicked down to his smirk, then back up to his eyes. “I’m just savoring the moment. You’re more handsome up close,“ you smirked, regaining your composure a little. You leaned in, forcing him to maintain that dizzying eye contact. “And it’s not every day the great Neteyam admits I'm incredible. I might just let it get in my head.”
Neteyam’s smirk faltered for a fraction of a second. Coughing softly, he cleared his throat as he took a strategic step backward, breaking the contact but keeping his eyes locked onto yours. “Don't get used to it,” he muttered, though his tone was lacking any real bite. “Go get cleaned up. My father wants a full debrief within the hour.”
He turned on his heel and walked back toward Jake, though you didn't miss the way his tail swished behind him. You let out a quiet, triumphant laugh, wiping the soot from your cheek with the back of your hand. There was still an armor, but you had managed to crack it... That’s a small victory!
In the following days, the high of the victory had settled into the familiar routine of war. The leaders gathered once again in the pavilion. This time, however, the mood was lighter. The success of the gorge raid had given the rebellion more time to breathe. Your mother pointed at the eastern coast on the map, discussing the movement of RDA sea vessels who was last seen going farther east.
“They are retreating toward the deep water,” your brother noted, crossing his arms. “The destruction of the supply lines has damaged their operations in the coastal outposts.”
“We need to take control of the momentum,” Jake said, leaning over the table. “Neteyam, what’s the status of our perimeter watches?”
Neteyam stepped forward, completely back into his professional, disciplined element. “The forest guards are doubling their patrols. But we need to ensure our aerial scouts are maintaining a strict radius. We can't afford to get complacent just because we succeed in one mission.”
You smiled, resting your chin in your palm as you leaned over the map table, deliberately putting yourself right in his line of sight. “Oh, don't worry, Commander. Our scouts are alwasys in the air. We don't get tired easily.” You paused, letting your eyes slowly track down his body before bringing your gaze back to his face. “Though, if you're so worried about our stamina, you're welcome to come up with me next time. I can show you how we stay energized.”
A collective ripple of amused snickers passed through the council. Your brother hid his face in his hands, muttering something about losing his mind, while your mother let out a small, huffing chuckle. “Daughter...” she said pointedly.
Neytiri smiled, shaking her head at Ikeyni. You watched Neteyam close his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. He let out a long sigh, his shoulders dropping. He was so incredibly tolerant of you, enduring the teasing with the quiet patience of a palulukan letting a cub bat at its tail.
“Y/N,” Neteyam said slowly, opening his eyes to look at you with deadpan exasperation. “I have to train the youth at the archery grounds after this. I do not have time to be a part of your games.”
“A shame,” you purred, flashing him a brilliant, unbothered grin. “You don't know what you're missing.”
Hours later, you found yourself wandering down toward the village training grounds, hearing the familiar sound of snapping bowstrings and the light thud of arrows hitting bark targets. You stood there, crossing your arms as you watched the scene. Neteyam was in his element. He was surrounded by a dozen young, aspiring warriors, all holding smaller training bows. He was patient and focused, moving down the line to correct their posture.
“Keep your elbow high,” Neteyam instructed a young boy, gently adjusting the kid's arm. “Do not fight the bow string. Let it become an extension of your arm. Look at the center of the mark, breathe out, and release.”
The boy released the string, and the arrow thudded squarely into the inner ring of the target. The kids cheered, and Neteyam offered a rare, warm smile, patting the boy's shoulder.
“Very good. Again.”
“Nice,” you called out, stepping out from the shadows.
The group of young hunters immediately turned, their eyes widening when they saw you. In your clan, you were a legend among the youth, the daughter who flew like the wind and didn't care about the rules. A few of the older teenagers standing nearby immediately started whispering and nudging each other, grinning widely because everyone knew you loved to push Neteyam’s buttons.
Neteyam stiffened, his shoulders squaring as he turned to face you. He gripped his longbow, his ears twitching back. “I am teaching, Y/N. Go find something else to do.”
“I just want to see if I can help,” you said innocently, sauntering closer until you were standing right in front of him, entirely ignoring the giggles of the children behind him. You reached out, your fingers lightly tracing the curve of his heavy longbow. “You see, kids, the Omatikaya are used to shooting on the ground, on their feet. But if you want real precision while moving, you need a loose hip. Like this.”
You fluidly snatched a training bow from a nearby rack, notched an arrow in the blink of an eye, and without even pausing to aim, you spun on your heel and released. The young warriors erupted into gasps and cheers when they saw the arrow hit the center of the furthest target cleanly, totally thrilled by the display. You tossed the bow back onto the rack, turning around to look at Neteyam with a smug, raised eyebrow.
“See?” you murmured, stepping into his space, tilting your head up. “It’s about flexibility, too. Maybe I should give you a private lesson sometime. I can teach you how to loosen up what’s stiff.” you murmured, biting your lip.
Neteyam’s eyes narrowed, his aw practically tightening into stone. His face burned a furious, deep shade of violet, his golden eyes wide as he stared down at you. He knows, with a piercing awareness, how completely trapped he is between his duty and his sheer, chaotic attraction to you, and he shouldn’t like it. But he does, so Eywa help him. He took a deep breath, gripping his bow tightly to keep his hands from shaking.
“Class dismissed,” Neteyam barked out, his voice a strained, tight rumble. “Go practice your stealth skills. Now.”
The kids scrambled away, still laughing and whispering, leaving the two of you completely alone in the training grounds. Neteyam stepped even closer, his towering frame casting a shadow over you as he glared down, though the heat radiating from his skin told a completely different story.
“You are impossible,” he whispered fiercely.
You laughed, enjoying the sight of the crack getting bigger each day. You’ve never had this much progress in the past... Perhaps because you don’t really see each other for longer than a few days. Sometimes, your mother gets invited to festivals in the Omatikaya and she brings you and your brother with her, or it’s her who invites the Sullys to come for festivals in your clan.
You’ve always liked Neteyam better than his brother. Lo’ak is a good acquaintance, but it was Neteyam who you’ve always found more interesting. What with his intense focus and unyielding determination on everything he puts his mind to, but you could tell it was also born from his desire to live up to his parents’ legacy.
He is the firstborn, after all. The heir to the Omatikaya leadership. The return of the sky people was the reason why he’s grown even more serious and focused, determined to protect the people, Eywa’eveng, and his family, even more so. You respect that a great deal, but you also think he needs to loosen up a bit before he stresses himself into an early grave.
You wonder if he even has interest in women, or if he only cares about his bows and his arrows. But you don’t like to think of that. It makes you fiercely jealous to think of him directing that intense focus on a woman who’s not you... Or to think of him letting a woman see past the armor you’re working so hard to crack.
But you are too confident. You thought the crack in his armor was getting wider by the day, and you genuinely believed it was only a matter of time before he finally let his guard down.
You should have remembered that in war, the higher you fly, the harder you fall.
More council meetings ensued in the following days, and now, you found yourself back in the sky. The RDA had deployed a small convoy of armored vehicles, and Neteyam’s squad was tasked to do a quiet interception.
“Hold your position above the tree line,” you heard Neteyam’s voice through the comms, crisp and authoritative. “Do not engage until the ground team has disabled their communications. If they see you, they will lock down the area and call for reinforcements. Do you copy?”
You had copied. But as you circled in the grey mist, you saw one of the AMP suits pivoting its heavy cannon directly toward the dense foliage where Neteyam’s ground sweepers were crawling. Your heart leaped into your throat. You waited to hear from him, or for the communication to be cut, but you can’t wait when they could all be gunned down any second.
I am fast enough, you had thought, fueled by that same headstrong confidence that had always served you before. I can take out that suit before it fires.
So, you dove.
But you had underestimated the trees’ density in this sector. Your ikran’s wing clipped a massive branch, throwing off your trajectory by a fraction of a second, and it was all the automated sensors needed. The AMP suit spun, firing a volley of heavy-caliber rounds into the sky. A hot, tearing agony sliced across your thigh, a bullet graze, and the concussive blast sent your ikran screeching into a spiral.
Your sudden, messy descent completely blew the ground team's cover. The convoy opened fire on the forest blindly. Screams of pain echoed through the comms, cutting through your panic. By the time it all ended, the convoy was destroyed, but the cost to the war party was devastating. Blood soaked your leg wraps but you cared little for it, forcing your ikran into the air, flying back to the Hometree with your chest tightening in suffocating fear and shame.
When you landed in the clearing, the celebratory atmosphere of the past weeks was entirely dead. You scrambled off your mount, wincing as your injured leg buckled slightly, and rushed toward the center, catching sight of him immediately. Neteyam was lifting a huntress off the back of his ikran. Her arm was painted in deep, crimson blood from a horrific wound on her shoulder. It was Tarya.
“Get the medical bay ready! Move!” Neteyam roared, his voice cracking with a raw, terrifying desperation you had never heard from him before. He was covered in soot and someone else's blood, his face a mask of pure, unadulterated fury.
“Neteyam—” you breathed, stepping forward, your hands shaking. “Neteyam, I—I am so sorry. I saw the suit turning toward you, I thought I could—”
Neteyam snapped. He lowered Tarya into the frantic arms of the medical healers, then turned on you so fast his tail whipped the air. He closed the distance between you in two giant, looming strides, towering over you.
“You thought?” he asked, his voice drawing the shocked eyes of every warrior present. “I don’t think so! You are entirely, helplessly obstinate! You almost fell! You almost died, did you even think of that?!”
You flinched, stepping back, but he kept coming, his golden eyes blazing with a dangerous, lethal heat that made you feel incredibly small.
“And because you couldn't follow a single, simple order, these warriors are wounded!” He said in a hard voice, his jaw clenched so hard you could hear his teeth grinding. “Tarya might not survive the night! Do you understand that? Do you even care?”
“I do care!” you cried out, tears of shame finally burning your eyes. “I was trying to protect—”
“You didn’t listen! Like always!” he cut you off, his chest heaving as he glared down at you with complete contempt. “You treat this war like a game to win my attention! You are a massive, childish distraction, Y/N! Everyone knows it, and I am sick of it! Do you think people bleeding out in the mud is a joke? Do you think this war is just another festival for you to play around in?”
The words felt like physical daggers piercing straight into your chest, ripping away at your pride and your confidence. You stood frozen, completely exposed and deeply ashamed in front of the people present. Your mouth opened to apologize again.
“I'm sorry,” you choked out, your voice breaking.
“Save your apologies,” Neteyam said, his voice dropping into a cold, venomous hiss that hurt far worse than his shouting. “If you cannot take this seriously, you should just withdraw from the war efforts entirely. Frankly, your behavior is putting everyone's life on the line.”
He didn't wait for you to answer. He turned his back on you completely, jogging alongside the stretcher as they wheeled his warriors toward the human facilities.
You stood alone in the dirt. You couldn't even feel the throbbing wound on your thigh. The numbness of absolute embarrassment and guilt swallowed you whole. He was right. You had been stupid and childish. You had been playing a dangerous game with people's lives just to hear him say your name.
You didn't seek out the Tsahik. You didn't think you deserved her medicine. Weakly, you dragged yourself back onto your ikran and flew away from the Hometree, heading toward the borders of your own clan's territory. You spent the evening in isolation, using bitter, stinging ocean herbs to tend to your own thigh, weeping silently in the dark. You resolved that you would return to apologize to the wounded warriors, and thinking of doing that is already making you feel flayed.
You had been too confident in your abilities and now, you have put people’s lives on the line. You should be ashamed. He was right about you leaving the war efforts, too, perhaps that was for the better. Because of what happened, you don’t think you still have enough confidence to go out there and fight.
You went to your clan, simply to change clothes, but was welcomed by the heavy grief that befell the people. An honored elder had passed away from natural causes, and by custom, the clan had to gather for the burial rites. Your mother and brother returned from the war front to attend, their faces grim.
After the body was given back to Eywa, your brother found you sitting on a secluded cliffside, staring blankly out at the crashing waves of the Eastern Sea. He sat down beside you, sighing. “I heard of the northern ridge,” he said quietly.
You clutched your knees to your chest, refusing to look at him. “Is Tarya... is she alive?”
“She is. Jake’s human friends saved her. She will recover. The others are okay, too,” your brother assured you, placing a heavy hand on your shoulder. “The war party didn't lose its momentum, sister, if that’s what you’re worried about. But... the injuries could have been prevented. You know this.”
“I know,” you whispered, a tear slipping down your cheek. “I think I should leave, before I put everyone's lives on the line.” You looked up at your brother, your eyes hollow. “I’ll fly back tomorrow. Just to apologize to those who were wounded because of me. And then... I'm coming home.”
Later that evening, you stood inside your mother's yurt, packing away your combat gear. Ikeyni watched you from the entrance, her arms crossed, as you told her what you told your brother, your voice flat and devoid of its usual spark.
“It would be better anyway if I stay back here, Mother,” you said, tying off a leather pouch. “I can act on your behalf with the local hunters. I'm just a bother to the war council over there.”
Ikeyni stared at you, her sharp eyes assessing your rigid posture, your bandaged leg, and the complete lack of confidence in your eyes.
“Whose words are those?” your mother asked softly. “Are they yours?”
You paused, your hands trembling over your gear. You shook your head slowly. “Mother, he was right,” you said, a lump forming in your throat as Neteyam's furious face flashed in your mind. “I wasn't taking the war seriously. I think it would do the council better if I leave. We have plenty of competent riders to do my job. I don't belong there.”
Ikeyni let out a long, heavy sigh. She walked over, placing a firm, warm hand on the nape of your neck, tilting your forehead up to look into her eyes.
“If that is what you truly want, then so be it,” your mother murmured softly, leaning forward to kiss your temple. “But remember who you are, daughter. You are a child of the wind. Do not let one storm ground you forever.”
The journey back to the Omatikaya clan felt different this time. Usually, you would be racing your brother through the clouds, your laughter wild and loud, but today, you simply flew silently behind your mother. When you landed and entered the pavilion, the change in you was loud. Normally, there was always a sharp, teasing smirk ready for whoever caught your eye, but now, your face was barely moving, your eyes fixed on a permanent point in front of you.
The shame was suffocating and it felt like a huge boulder they tied around you. The council proceeded, discussing territory lines and defensive strategies for what felt like hours, while you stood rigid behind your mother, your eyes watching them move pieces on the map, unknowing of Neteyam’s eyes seeking you despite Ikeyni’s body blocking him from sight.
Taking a deep breath, you stepped forward into the light of the pavilion when the elders finally paused. Your voice was flat as you addressed the chieftains and the elders, completely stripped of its usual playful edge. “I want to apologize for the failure of my recent mission. I disobeyed orders, and I take full accountability for the consequences. I am even sorrier that it took me days to stand before you and say this; my clan was laying an elder to rest.“
You took a breath, your hands clasped tightly behind your back so no one could see them shaking.
“As you can see, I am unfit for this council. I lack the discipline required for operations of this scale. Moving forward, I am letting my mother decide on my replacement from the Tayrangi riders.”
A heavy silence descended upon the pavilion.
“Y/N,” Jake Sully spoke first, his deep voice carrying a wave of gentleness that surprised you. He leaned over the table, his eyes soft. “The war party didn't lose its momentum. We took out the convoy. You don't need to pin the blame solely on yourself. This is war. Mistakes happen and warriors are always meant to be wounded.”
Neytiri leaned forward next, her sharp, golden eyes searching your hollow face. “Do I understand what you mean, Ikeyni’ite? Are you leaving the council?”
“Yes,” you nodded, your voice firm.
Your mother stepped into the space beside you, her voice steady and protective, supplementing your words before anyone else could question you. “I have asked her to stay back with the Tayrangi. Ruk’e and I are heavily occupied with the war efforts here, and I need someone I trust to oversee the people.”
“Olo'eykte. Tsakarem.”
The voice cut through the pavilion, low and fractured, making your heart seize painfully in your chest. You didn't want him to speak. You didn't want to look at him.
Neteyam stepped forward from behind his father's shoulder. His posture wasn't stiff with the perfect discipline of a soldier anymore, it looked strained, his shoulders slightly hunched. “I wish to speak,” he said, his eyes locked on you, seeking yours, though you kept your gaze fixed somewhere near his collarbone. “I want to apologize to you, Y/N, before the council, for my reaction days ago. I was angry, and I spoke out of turn. You do not need to leave the council because of it.”
You felt a faint ripple of shock go through you, but it didn't revive your heart. Instead, a fresh wave of mortification washed over you. You felt even more ashamed that he felt obligated to apologize in front of the entire leadership just to close the issue gracefully and maintain alliance peace. To you, him telling you not to leave was just something he was saying for the record, a diplomatic necessity.
“You have nothing to apologize for, warrior, and I have nothing to forgive either,” you said, your voice entirely level, devoid of any anger or spite. It was just empty.
One of the Omatikaya elders turned to your mother. “Ikeyni, is this decision final? We would hate to lose such a skilled asset for the war efforts.”
“Yes,” you answered for her, your tone absolute. Nothing could have changed your mind. “If the council pleases, I excuse myself. I wish to apologize to the warriors who were wounded because of me.”
You were already looking at the door, not catching how Neteyam’s head reared back as if something had clawed at him. Without waiting for a formal dismissal, you turned and walked out of the pavilion, the sudden shift to freedom doing nothing to ease the tightness in your chest.
You walked straight toward the medical areas, knowing you would find the injured split between the Tsahik’s tent and the human facilities. You went to the Tsahik's tent first, stepping into the dim space. When you approached the wounded Omatikaya warriors, your throat tightened, but they easily brushed your apologies off with tired, warm smiles.
“It is no one's fault,” one of them murmured. “We know what we came there for. Being wounded is expected for a warrior.”
When you went to the human facilities, you found Tarya resting in a clean bed, her shoulder heavily bandaged. When you spoke your apologies to her, she reached out to pat your arm. “Do not carry this weight, sister. We are alive. That is what matters.”
The sheer kindness of their forgiveness almost made you cry. A bitter, agonizing thought crossed your mind, wishing Neteyam thinks the same.
But you immediately caught yourself, mentally slapping the thought away. Stop it. You need to stop thinking about what Neteyam thinks or what he doesn't. You knew it would take time. You had liked him for so long, possibly loved him, but that part of your life was over now.
You walked out to the clearing where your ikran was waiting, ready to leave this place behind for good. You were just reaching for her leather harness when heavy, frantic footsteps behind you, hearing your name being called.
You closed your eyes for a brief second before turning around. Neteyam was jogging toward you, breathing heavily. He had asked to leave the council to follow you the exact moment you walked out, but Jake hadn't allowed him to dismiss himself until the meeting officially concluded.
Now, as he stopped a few paces away, you actively turned off your imaginative mind. You completely shut down that part of yourself that used to over-analyze his every breath, forcing yourself not to read into the fact that he looked almost desperate, entirely at a loss for words.
Neteyam's eyes flickered down, and you saw his face almost crumple, a sharp grimace crossing his features at the sight of the cloth bandaging your thigh. You subtly shifted your weight, trying your best to hide the injury behind the wing of your ikran.
His eyes flickeredup to yours, swimming with a quiet, raw desperation you tried your hardest to ignore. “Y/N, please. I am so sorry for what I said in the clearing. I shouldn't have—”
“It’s alright, Neteyam,” you cut him off smoothly, your voice polite and empty. “You were right anyway. Truly, I should be ashamed of my behavior right from the start. I didn't take things as seriously as I should have, and that only proves how unfit I am for the council. So, you see, you were completely right about me leaving—”
“No,” he breathed, the word breaking from him like a gasp. His shoulders fell, and he took a sudden step forward, his hand reaching out.
Unconsciously, your posture tensed, and you took a sharp step backward, pressing yourself closer to the flank of your ikran as if to seek safety.
Neteyam froze. His extended hand trembled in the air before slowly dropping to his side. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, his voice strained with a deep pain that, once again, you forced yourself to ignore.
“I know,” you said quickly, forcing a small chuckle to ease the tension. “Sorry.” You cleared your throat, gesturing vaguely to the sky. “But just as I said, everything has become much clearer to me now. I want to leave before I put more people in danger. Perhaps, I should even thank you for opening my mind about that—”
“No, Y/N, listen to me,” he stepped closer again, his voice rising in an urgent, pleading rush. “I was just... I was so scared for the wounded. I was terrified. And I said things that I shouldn't have said, terrible things—”
“You said things that were true, Neteyam,” you interrupted softly, your face completely calm as you reached up to ruffle the crest of your ikran's head. “And as I said, I am completely cool about them. I accept them, and I understand. You have nothing to apologize for. In truth, it was just a superior delivering valid criticisms that I needed to learn from.”
“I was unnecessarily cruel,” Neteyam burst out, his jaw trembling as he stared at your polite, unbothered expression. “I was unfair of me to pin all the blame on you. Their tracking systems were upgraded, the terrain was bad—I couldn't tell you how much I have regretted my words every second since. Y/N, please... it is I who needs your forgiveness—”
You let out a sigh and Neteyam stopped abruptly, as if your sigh had put a physical gag on him. He watched you, terrified of whatever words were about to leave your mouth.
“Neteyam. It is over and done with,” you said, your voice shifting into a serious, cold finality that left no room for argument. “I have no hard feelings over it whatsoever. Everything you said that day was true. I didn’t listen, and it put people in danger. I was reckless. I was foolish. You were right, so stop insisting you were wrong, because I’ll start thinking this is just your guilt talking. Stand by your words, and let’s leave things be.”
You reached behind you, grabbing your kuru and connecting it swiftly to your ikran's, before fluidly mounting her back, settling into the saddle with a practiced, rigid grace.
Neteyam stood rooted to the dirt. He had stopped breathing. He stared up at you, his chest aching so violently he wished with everything in him that your ikran’s wings wouldn't work. He wished the wind would die. He wished he could reach out, grab the reins, and drag you back down. His heart throbbed with a suffocating mix of guilt, regret, and something far heavier that he couldn't even name.
He had hurt you. He had completely broken your spirit, and it was devastatingly obvious. Sitting on your ikran, you were unrecognizable. The brilliant, chaotic spark was entirely gone. Your playful confidence was buried deep beneath a layer of careful, polite nonchalance.
“Have a good life, Neteyam,” you murmured.
With a sharp click of your tongue, your ikran surged forward, her powerful wings launching you into the open sky.
Neteyam watched you fly away, your form growing smaller and smaller until you were nothing but a speck in the distance. A sharp, physical spasm ripped through his chest, and his golden eyes stung, blurring his vision. His fingers curled into tight, trembling fists, his teeth gritting together so hard he thought they would crack under the pressure.
He had wanted you to take the war seriously. He had wanted you to stop distracting him. But as he stood alone in the empty clearing, looking up at the empty sky, Neteyam realized he had never been more brokenly, horribly distracted in his entire life.
₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚
The war efforts did not stop just because Neteyam’s world had lost its friction. If anything, the pace of the rebellion quickened after the destruction of the northern convoy. The Omatikaya and their allies pushed the RDA further toward the coastal margins, reclaiming three separate valleys within a single turn of the moon.
Neteyam did his duty with the same cold precision his father had drilled into him since he was old enough to hold a knife. To the common warriors, he was still the golden heir... Unshakable, vigilant, a pillar of the clan along his parents and Mo’at.
But inside his own skin, he was experiencing a slow, suffocating death.
Every hour of every day, his mind raced backward, tracing the bridge he had violently brought down. He missed you with a ferocity that physically brought ache to his gut. It felt like a boulder was placed in his ribs, overcrowding his lungs. Some days, he could barely breathe.
And the worst part was the quiet.
Before his stupidity, every spot of the Hometree was a minefield of your laughter. He had spent months training himself to ignore the sound of that, even though it was the balm to his soul at the end of every exhausting day, the honeyed delivery of your voice, and the way you would lean your shoulder against his, close enough for him to feel the heat radiating from you. He had thought of you as a massive, beautiful distraction. He had braced himself against you like a tree hardening its bark against a persistent storm.
Now, it was just gone. And the silence you left behind was deafening.
Dozens of times during the mid-day meetings, Neteyam would find his head turning instinctively to the left, his eyes scanning the roots or the wooden pillars for a glimpse of your vibrant red paint. At the training grounds, his shoulder would tingle, expecting the sudden touch of your hand.
But there was none.
By the second week, the pressure in Neteyam’s chest grew so immense that he began to lose his grip on his characteristic discipline. He became desperate for any connection to you, any excuse to hear updates from you that he found Ikeyni’s intense focus on war tactics and Ruk’e’s silence very irritating.
Stop talking of war, he thought. Let’s talk about your sister.
So when Ruk’e announced he was flying back to the Tayrangi to retrieve a shipment of leather harnesses and specialized arrows for the coastal hunters, Neteyam didn't even hesitate.
“I will go with you,” he had said, stepping into the ikran roosts before Ruk’e could even clear his mount for takeoff.
Ruk’e had paused, his hand tightening on his reins as he looked at Neteyam. There was no mission along the coast. There was no tactical reason for the commander of the ground forces to waste half a day acting as a pack-beast for supply crates.
“The eastern passes are clear, Sully,” Ruk’e said, his voice carrying that protective, guarded edge that you both possessed. “I do not need an escort.”
“My father wants an updated report on the drafts near the bay,” Neteyam lied, his jaw clenching as he connected his queue to his ikran. His voice was tight, nearly fracturing under the weight of his hidden urgency. “We are moving the division soon. I also need to see the terrain.”
Ruk’e stared at him for a long, heavy moment, reading the dark circles beneath his eyes and the frantic, nervous twitch of his tail. With a slow sigh, Ruk’e nodded silently. The flight to the Eastern Sea was the longest hour of Neteyam’s life. His mind ran through a thousand different scenarios, each one more pathetic than the last. He thought of finding you by the cliff’s edge. He thought of going down on his knees, uncaring of who saw him. He would let you see past his walls. He would let you see that he was nothing but a stupid man who had torn out his own heart stupidly. He was stupid, stupid, stupid.
Your final words had been repeating in his skull like a death chant. Have a good life, Neteyam.
It had sounded like a permanent severance. A final closure. He remembered how, weeks ago, when the realization that you intended to live the rest of your days without ever seeing him again hit him, he nearly doubled over, a physical gasp tearing from his throat as if he had been struck in the gut. Now, as they finally crested the high cliffs of the Tayrangi territory, his hope was crushed into dust. Apparently, you were not around. And he thought he was imagining the smirk that passed Ruk’e’s face.
They were there for close to two hours, gathering everything and securing it on their ikrans. At one point, Neteyam had looked high above and saw the unmistakable, bright red-and-orange span of your ikran’s wings flying down. His heart leaped into his throat, a sudden, violent surge of blood hammering in his ears. He leaned forward, preparing, his mouth already forming your name.
But then, Neteyam watched in absolute horror as your ikran turn back toward the blind side of the cliffs, diving deep into the sea mists until you completely vanished from sight. He looked at his ikran, its recognizable bright blue-green scales... Even from leagues away, you had seen the beast. Even though you didn't really see him, you decided to turn away. Avoiding him. Flying away from him.
Neteyam spent the rest of the supply run standing on the landing platforms, his eyes fixed on the empty horizon, his hands gripping his longbow so tightly his knuckles turned a sickly, pale shade of blue. You never came back up. You stayed hidden in the shadows of the rocks until they had to leave and fly back home to the forest, feeling more like a ghost than a living man.
Many nights later, Neteyam sat on a log near the weapon racks, idly running a whetstone down the edge of his hunting knife when a shadow fell over him. Jake Sully stepped into the light, his large frame blocking out the stars. He watched his eldest son for a quiet minute, taking in the rigid, defensive curve of the his spine.
“You're off your mark, son,” Jake said, his deep voice slicing through the crickets. “During the perimeter check today, you missed three separate trails on the western border. That’s not like you.”
Neteyam didn't look up. He kept his head bowed, the whetstone scraping against the blade. “Just tired, sir. The patrols have been long.”
“It’s not the patrols,” Jake countered gently. He stepped closer, leaning his hip against the weapon rack, his expression softening. “I know what happened after the ridge raid, Neteyam.”
The whetstone stopped.
Neteyam’s hands tried to grip the knife tighter to hide the trembling of his fingers. For the first time in his life, he couldn't hold his mask in place. A small, ragged breath escaped his lips, and when he finally turned his face up to look at his father, Jake blinked sharply from the surprise of seeing Neteyam’s eyes bright with unshed tears.
“I hurt her, Dad,” Neteyam said weakly, his voice breaking. “I was... I was so unnecessarily cruel. I was too stupid, opening my mouth like that. Shouting at her... saying those terrible things.”
He let out a shaky breath, his face crumpling from the sheer, agonizing effort of trying not to cry, but the first tear slipped anyway.
“Have you seen her at the pavillion, Dad?” he asked. “That's not her. That is no longer her because I broke her. I took her spirit and I crushed it with my cruelty. And what’s worse, what is killing me every second, is that she thinks she deserved it. She thinks I was right.” He dropped the knife into the dirt, his hands coming up to cover his face. “I don't know how to turn it all back around. I want her to forgive me. I want her to know... I’d rip my own heart right out of my chest if it means I could take away the pain I gave her.”
Jake let out a long, heavy sigh. His own features crumpled in deep distress for the two of you. He reached down, placing a calloused hand on his son’s trembling shoulder, squeezing tightly. “Have you tried apologizing again? Truly talking to her?”
“No,” Neteyam choked out, pulling his hands away from his face, his eyes red-rimmed from his tears. “I think she doesn't want to see me ever again. I flew to the Tayrangi with Ruk'e last week... and the moment she saw my ikran, she retreated. She dove back into the cliffs... She didn't want to be near me, Dad.”
Jake rubbed the back of his neck, exhaling through his teeth. “Have you tried hiding your ikran from view?”
Neteyam shot his father a miserable, exhausted look. “Dad,” he said, his you're-not-helping tone incredibly obvious. “I don't want to force her. If she wants to be away from me, I... I have to respect that. Even if it kills me.”
“Well,“ Jake said slowly, shifting his weight as he stared out into the dark canopy. “Perhaps you should just give her time... The perfect time to talk to her would probably be when she’s mated and having children with her husband—”
“Dad,” Neteyam’s voice rose and deepened, his head snapping up in sheer horror. The tears on his cheeks dried instantly as his heart did a terrifying, sickening dive into his stomach.
“What?” Jake asked, completely straight-faced, though there was a tiny, knowing glint in his eye. “You're taking too much time, son. Men could swoop in anytime, you know? Especially now. She’s back home, heartbroken, and trying to move on from a stupid boy who is too terrified to admit that he belongs to her. That’s exactly when other men take their chances.”
Neteyam closed his eyes, his breathing turning shallow and fast. For the first time in his twenty-two years of life, he felt a wild, primitive urge to beat his own father up.
It wasn't funny, but he knew that his father wasn’t joking either, and as he sat there, his mind began to spin into a dark spiral of jealousy and terror. He had always known that you liked him, that you had liked him since you were children, but because he had been so focused on his duty, he had never allowed himself to measure the depth of it. He had taken your presence for granted. He had assumed you would always be there, annoying him, teasing him, waiting for him to finally turn around.
But you were a chieftain's daughter. You were a legendary huntress, beautiful, fierce, and wild. He knew exactly how many Tayrangi young men watched you with fierce attraction when you flew. The only reason they had stayed away before was because you were down here, making a public nuisance of yourself over the Omatikaya heir.
Now, you were back home. Heartbroken and vulnerable.
Neteyam’s fingers curled into tight fists against his knees, his jaw clenching so hard his teeth groaned under the pressure. The thought of another warrior touching your hand, the thought of another man making you laugh, or seeing that brilliant, wicked smirk return to your face, made his blood run thick.
“She is the daughter of the Olo’eykte,” Neteyam muttered, his voice dropping into a low register. “She would not just choose anyone.”
“No, she wouldn't,” Jake agreed softly. “But she will choose eventually, Neteyam. And right now, you're letting her believe she is better off without you.”
Jake turned away, leaving Neteyam to sit with the desperate fire that had lit inside him. He had broken your spirit, yes. But he would be damned if he let another man be the one to fix it.
With this new fire in him, Neteyam returned to the Tayrangi three more times over the following weeks, armed with a bag of increasingly flimsy excuses. The first time, he claimed his father needed a precise audit of the coastal clan's surplus ikran armor. The second time, he practically forced himself onto a tracking detail meant to map the migration patterns of the sturmbeast herds near the Tayrangi territories. By the third time, he was carrying a bundle of forest herbs from Mo’at that Tayrangi healers hadn't even asked for.
Yet, three times, you managed to dodge him completely.
It was maddening. It felt as though someone was deliberately feeding you a schedule of his arrivals and departures. Every time his blue-green ikran broke through the coastal fog, you were already gone, out on a hunt, or patrolling the northern borders. He even began to suspect your brother, Ruk’e, was secretly warning you through some hidden signal, but he knew for a fact that the man had no way of communicating with you.
You were simply anticipating him. You were treating him like an incoming storm, closing your doors and retreating into a safe place before the first drop of rain could touch you.
By the fourth visit, Neteyam had reached his absolute limit. He didn't bring an escort, and he didn't use the main landing platforms. He left his ikran tethered half a league away, hidden in a dense thicket, and trekked up the rocky coastal paths on foot, his chest heaving, his heart hammering against his ribs. He was taking his father’s advice now, though he really hated the thought of surprising you.
He caught you by pure accident near the lower tide pools, where the cliffs formed a secluded cove. You were alone, repairing a frayed net, your long legs tucked beneath you on the smooth stone.When his shadow fell over you, you snapped your head up. For a second, your eyes widened in genuine, startled surprise. But the shock vanished, replaced instantly by that smooth mask of careful, polite nonchalance that made Neteyam’s stomach twist into a painful knot.
“Neteyam,” you said, your voice casual, but your fingers tightened so hard around the wooden netting needle. You made no move to stand, looking up at him as if he were nothing more than a passing trader. “What brings you here? Do you need help with anything, or were you sent here?”
You spoke the words with an easy, detached courtesy, even though your entire posture screamed that you wanted to be anywhere else but in front of him.
Neteyam closed the distance between you, his strides long and desperate. He didn't care about his dignity anymore. He didn't care that he was the commander of the ground forces or the son of Toruk Makto. He stopped just two paces away from you, his breath hitching as his eyes immediately swept down to your thigh. The bandage was gone, replaced by a white scar where the bullet had grazed you.
The sight of it made his throat tighten with a fresh wave of suffocating guilt.
“I wasn't sent, Y/N,” he said, his voice dropping into a low, fractured register. He took a half-step forward, his hands twitching at his sides, wanting so desperately to reach out but forcing himself to stay back. “I came because of you. I came because I want to talk to you. I... I cannot sleep, I cannot breathe, and I—”
You let out a sharp, sudden breath, dropping the netting needle into your lap. The polite facade finally cracked, and you stood up, your tail whipping the air behind you in a sudden flash of genuine irritation.
“Aren’t we over this, Neteyam?” you snapped, your eyes narrowing as you glared up at him. “We discussed this already. I thought we agreed to get past it.”
“Y/N, please—”
“No, listen to me,“ you cut him off, your voice rising, hard and sharp. “If this is about your guilt, you can lay it down. I told you before, I have nothing to forgive. I accepted your words because they were true. But if you are going to keep coming here with more pathetic apologies and diplomatic reassurances, you are actually going to make me angry.” You stepped closer. “I told you to stand by your words. If you cannot back your own words, Neteyam, I would be deeply disappointed. You are going to lead your clan one day, and an Olo'eyktan’s words must be solid as stone. If you are this fickle with your own tongue, how can anyone trust you?“
“That is the problem!” He said pointedly, his voice cracking with a raw, agonizing emotion as he grabbed your hand, his fingers locking around your wrist before you could pull away, his grip desperate but fiercely tender. “I regret my words, I regret them every single second of every day—”
You tried to wrench your wrist free, but he held fast, his eyes blazing down into yours with a terrifying, weeping intensity.
“I know I cannot take them back,” he breathed, his chest heaving as he stared into your eyes. “I know I cannot magically wipe away the pain I inflicted on you, and I know I cannot just hand you back the confidence that I shattered, but I will work on my hands and knees to bring you back to who you used to be. I will do whatever it takes, Y/N. I swear it to the Great Mother.”
You stopped pulling against his grip, your frame going completely rigid. A bitter huff escaped you, “I don't like who I used to be,” you whispered, and his head moved as if you’d slapped him. “And you said it yourself that day, you don't like it either. You said you were sick of it. You said I was a massive, childish distraction—”
“I was a fool!” he cried, his voice breaking completely. “I was terrified for the warriors, but most of all, I was terrified for you. When you fell from the sky... I thought I lost you. I let my fear turn into venom, and I threw it at the one person who didn't deserve it.”
You stared at him, your jaw tight, your breathing ragged. For a second, just a fraction of a second, Neteyam thought he saw a flicker of the old warmth that used to belong entirely to him. But then, your expression hardened again.
“It doesn't matter why you said it, Neteyam,” you said, your voice flat. “The fact remains that your assessment was correct. I was reckless, and I put lives at risk. Your cruelty was just the mirror I needed to see myself clearly. Now, let go of me. I have nets to mend."
Neteyam’s fingers slowly uncurled, his arm dropping to his side as if it had been cut. You didn't give him another glance, you simply sat back down on the rock, picked up your wooden needle, and began weaving the fibers with steady, unbothered precision.
That day was completely unproductive for him. He spent the remaining hours sitting on a boulder a few paces away, watching you work in absolute silence. You didn't speak to him again. You didn't look at him. You treated him like a piece of rock, completely ignoring his presence until the sun began to dip and he was forced to hike back to his ikran, his heart heavier than when he had arrived.
Neteyam did not give up. In fact, his failure only made him more relentless.
He began flying between the Omatikaya and the Tayrangi almost every single day, uncaring of the brutal, grueling transit on top of his patrols, trainings, and war meetings. He would wake up before the first light of dawn, complete his mandatory border patrols, and then immediately push his ikran through the treacherous mountain drafts just to spend an hour or two on the cliffs.
He became a desperate fixture in your clan. He didn't care how it looked to your people. He didn't care that they watched with raised eyebrows and murmurs of amusement as the proud Omatikaya heir practically degraded himself for a glimpse of their chieftain's daughter. He didn’t know how to fully show you how sorry he is, and how sorry he will be for the rest of his life, so he started with the absolute surrender of his pride.
If you were out in the lower fields gathering ocean kelp for the healers, Neteyam would appear beside you to help without a word. He would haul the heavy, water-logged crates onto his shoulders, carrying them up the steep cliff paths so you wouldn't have to. You would tell him to leave, your voice sharp with annoyance, but he would simply set his jaw, and go back down for another load.
When you were assigned to clean and grease the riding saddles, he would sit on the floor opposite you, taking the rough scraping stones out of your hands. He would spend hours working the stiff leather until his fingers blistered, quiet despite the clear annoyance and suffocating silence you serve him. Some days, you wouldn't even show yourself, your people telling him you went to patrol or hunted, leaving him sitting alone on the rocky ledges for hours.
But he always came back the next day.
One evening, after a particularly brutal afternoon where you had completely ignored his existence while he helped the elders fix something, he caught you as you walked back toward your family's yurt. The sky was a bruised purple, and the bioluminescence was casting a soft light across your face.
He called out your name, his voice light despite the clear exhaustion on his face. He looked terrible, his shoulders were bruised from hauling timber, but there was still the sharp, military crispness of his posture despite the air of a man who was running on nothing but sheer desperation.
You stopped, but you didn't turn around to face him. “Go home, Neteyam. Take the war seriously instead of spending so much of your time here. Your father needs you.”
“My father has other warriors,” Neteyam said, stepping closer. “I will not stop. I will come here every day. I will carry every basket, I will mend every net, I will bleed on these rocks until I’ve proven myself to you.”
You finally turned your head, looking over your shoulder at him. Your face was half-hidden in the shadows, but your eyes were fixed on him.
“You are wasting your time,” you said, though your voice devoid of its usual malice, carrying only a profound, weary sadness. “The girl who would have been happy with all of these is gone, Neteyam. Even I couldn’t bring her back. You cannot bring back something that no longer exists.”
His breath hitched, the words hitting him harder than any physical blow from his father’s training sessions. His ears pinned flat against his head, but he took a deep breath, lowering himself on his knees in front of you. You silently gasped, watching the proud, golden boy of the Omatikaya, who had been raised to hold his head high, lowering himself in the dirt of the Tayrangi cliffs.
“Then who is she now?“ he asked quietly. “Would you let me meet her?” he pleaded, looking up at you soulfully, his chest heaving. “If she is a stranger, then let me earn her. Let me learn the way she breathes, the way she speaks, what makes her laugh now. I do not care if it takes the rest of my life. I will build a bridge over whatever ocean you put between us.”
You looked down at him, your eyes tracing his bruised shoulders, the raw, blistered skin on his fingers, and the deep shadows under his eyes. He looked so tired, what with his duties back home and the tasks he’s killing himself to do here, only to be ignored by you.
“You are a fool, Neteyam,” you murmured softly.
“I am,” he agreed instantly, his eyes tired but fiercely intense. “I am a fool who took you for granted and hurt you, who took too long to realize that my world has no tilt on its axis if you don’t belong in it.”
You swallowed the lump in your throat. For many moons, you had kept your heart behind an impenetrable wall of ice, convincing yourself that what had happened broken something inside you that could never be mended. But looking at him now, no armor to break nor wall to climb, and entirely surrendered at your feet, a terrifyingly familiar warmth threatened to crack the frost.
You stepped around him, your tail flicking with a wave of mixed emotions. “The elders need the nets mended by first light tomorrow,” you said, not looking back as you pulled open the flap of your yurt. “If you are going to bleed on our rocks, you might as well make yourself useful.”
You left him outside and he watched the flap shut close with a twinkle in his eyes that hadn’t been there in moons. He let out a long breath, staying on his knees for a moment longer. A fierce, protective spark reignited in his chest. That wasn’t exactly forgiveness, but you had indirectly told him not to leave and tend to the nets, a complete opposite of how you’d pushed him away every single day in the past moons.
He’s not confident yet, but it was a crack in your armor.
Standing up, he wiped the dust from his knees, his eyes watching the flap with tangible longing, before deciding to walk down toward the docks where the torn nets lay waiting.
Days turned into weeks, and Neteyam’s presence in the cliffs before the first light ever crested the horizon has become a constant view. You were drinking your morning tea on a higher ledge when you saw him trekking up the hill, his ikran stubbornly left in a hidden thicket half a league away even though you’d stop avoiding him or fleeing away at the sight of his ikran. You’d seen where he hids his ikran and knew that he had to trek the rocky, miles-long paths on foot before he could even reach your home.
“You should have just brought your mount here instead of trekking that much distance,” you casually said.
He stared at you, as if surprised that you’d suggest that. “Maybe... Maybe tomorrow,” he replied.
Your eyes narrowed at how he was uncharacteristically wearing his warrior cummerbund. It was a gear he wears during missions, but one he rarely wore for casual labor. On top of that, he also looked too pale for your liking, his skin lacking its usual vibrance and his lips almost as white as sea foam.
“Did you come straight here from a mission?“ you probed and he immediately shook his head.
“Just patrol,” he answered, his voice a little gravelly.
Your eyes narrowed, refusing to press for more answers but you watched him almost the entire time, silently going straight to work, lifting heavy timber, hauling supply crates, and helping grease the stiff riding saddles of your clan’s riders. It was past mid-day when he finished, just in time for him to get back for the council meeting, if their schedule is still the same as you remembered.
You caught him just as he was walking down the mountain path. “Neteyam,” you called out.
He turned around immediately and you saw the slight sway that followed that sudden movement, which he tried to mask by shifting his weight.
“You should eat before you go,” you said, keeping your voice even. “I haven’t eaten yet, too... Only if you’d like,” you added.
A look of pure surprise crossed over his pale face. For a second, he just stared at you, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. The exhaustion weighing him down seemed to lift, replaced by a twinkle in his eyes that made you almost smile. Thank Eywa, you were able to stop yourself!
“I... I would like that,” he murmured, his voice soft.
He walked back with you into the communal yurt, aware of your people’s eyes tracking your movements. After all, this was the first time you actually invited him in for anything, knowing how their imaginative minds have long came up with stories of their own to explain the presence of the Toruk Makto’s heir in the Tayrangi.
He sat across from you and you noted how slow he seemed to be moving, having known how efficient he usually is, so you handed him a bowl of steaming soup and a plate of honeyed roasted fish that you’ve already cut into bite-sized pieces. His eyes were heavy on you that your skin seemed to tingle at your every move, too conscious of yourself knowing that he’s watching you.
Your eyes snapped to his, your brow rising. “Eat. The food will go cold,“ you said.
He nodded, redirecting his attention on his food. Despite the pain on his side, a sense of profound peace seemed to settle over him. He was sitting across from you, eating your food, sharing your space. He was so glad he perservered to go today. Whatever agony pokes at him under his tight cummerbund was a cheap price to pay for this single moment with you.
When the bowl was completely empty, he placed it down with meticulous care, waiting for you to finish without speaking, but halfway your meal, your eyes snapped up to his.
“You can go, if you wished,” you said casually.
“Believe me, I do not wish to be anywhere but here,” he replied. “I knew I would have to wait, you were always a slow-eater.”
Your lips pushed forward. He knows that. You tilted your head to brush it off. “I’ve grown faster since I became a huntress,” you retorted.
“Hm. I wish I can see it,” he said, his voice laced with humor.
You stuffed the rest of your food into your mouth, chewing non-stop as your cheeks filled with food bubbling like a syaksyuk eating utumauti. A snort escaped him as he watches you, one that turned into a genuine laugh, though it was cut short, his ears twitching and his jaw tightening as he suppressed a grimace.
“Why?” you asked, your voice muffled by the food in your mouth. He looked like he was pained.
He shook his head, leaning forward with his elbows on the low table. He handed you a bowl of water. “Slow down, syaksyuk, or you’ll choke...”
He chuckled when you rolled your eyes before ccepting the water he offered, continuously chewing. Once you were finished, you finally spoke, “You should get moving,” you said softly, reaching over to stack his empty bowl onto your plate. “If you are late for the council meeting, they might think that Toruk Makto’s heir lacks discipline. We don’t want that.”
Neteyam let out a quiet sigh, the humor fading into a weary but profoundly content expression. He slowly pushed himself up from the ground, a sharp, involuntary gasp escaping his teeth before his hand flew to his ribs, but he quickly converted the movement into a stretch. He looked down at you with a lingering fondness.
“Thank you for the meal,” he said softly. “I must head to the council now. I will... I will be back tomorrow. With my ikran, if you meant what you said.”
You went to stand, following him out of the communal space to walk him only until the ledge. “Take care...” you whispered in the wind as you watched him go. Your eyes narrowed, noting how unusually heavy his steps were. He really looked remarkably weak.
You figured you'd ask him tomorrow, but your suspicion was answered much sooner than you expected. In the dead of night, Ruk’e quietly entered your yurt, his expression unusually grave.
“Pack your weapons,” he said, his voice low. “The war council needs you back urgently. The RDA is pushing the western flank, and they need every competent ikran rider back in the air.” He paused for a moment before adding, “Mother agrees it is time.”
He left out the part where Jake Sully himself spoke with him. What you didn't know was that back at the Omatikaya hometree, Neteyam had fallen ill through the night. Yesterday, during a swift ambush on an RDA scout unit, a stray shrapnel had torn into his midriff. It was just a minor injury that required only bed rest, but Neteyam had completely ignored the Tsahik's orders. He had wrapped it tightly, hidden it beneath his cummerbund, and flown straight to the Tayrangi to help haul your clan's imports.
When he returned to the forest, he could barely stand. His wound was bleeding beneath his cummerbund, and his body hot with fever.
Now, he lay on a mat in the Tsahik’s tent, practically delirious. Neytiri sat near him, her tail whipping in a furious frenzy as she scolded him. “You went to the Tayrangi? What did you even do there that you’d managed to have your flesh torn open?! Have you lost your mind, Neteyam?!”
Through the haze of his fever, Neteyam weakly opened his eyes. “Mother... it’s fine. I am fine. Just... do not tell her. She wants me to bring... My ikran tomorrow...” his mouth formed into a lazy smile.
“What?!” Neytiri cried out, her voice breaking in panic. “Neteyam, you could barely open your eyes, and you're flying back there again to do only the Great Mother knows what?!“
“Mother, it’s okay,” he muttered, brushing her hands away.
Jake stepped into the tent, his large hand resting on his wife's shoulder to calm her, though he himself was worried. “You can't do this to yourself, boy. You're going to kill yourself before the RDA even gets a chance to.”
Neteyam let out a long, ragged sigh, his eyes closed. “Have you ever had someone be your entire world, Dad?” he whispered, his voice laced with contentment. “We ate together earlier... And it felt like my entire world was narrowed down on that table... With her sitting across from me. I don't think... I don't think I can miss a single day not seeing her. If I stop showing up... She will think I gave up.”
Neytiri’s fury slowly melted away, her face falling as she watched her son finally drift into a deep, feverish sleep. She turned to Jake and his eyes snapped to her, sharing a look of understanding.
The next morning, you walked with mother and brother to the war pavilion. You had flown back with Ruk’e at dawn, your mind focused on the reports Ruk’e has told you, but some parts of you were thinking about how Neteyam would react seeing you back in the council. Now, he wouldn't have to exhaust himself flying from the forest to the Eastern Coast.
The council welcomed you, asking you about things back home and slowly easing the current climate regarding the sky people into the conversation. You assured them your brother has told you and that you know what you came here for. You turned to the pavilion’s entrance when you heard an entourage enter, freezing at the sight you saw.
Neteyam entered first, his midriff wrapped with a medical woven fabric, and there was an unmistakable fresh smear of blood already blooming through the center of the cloth. He looked very pale. His head casually snapped to your direction, and the absolute shock on his face mirrored your own. Written on his forehead was a huge why are you here?
He instinctively took a half-step backward, his tail twitching as if he wanted to flee the pavilion entirely rather than let you see him like this. But Jake was standing directly behind him. His father placed a firm, unyielding hand on his shoulder, gently prompting him forward into the room. Neteyam swallowed hard, forced his chin up, and continued walking as if everyone in the pavilion didn’t witness his panic at the sight of you.
Well, it’s not like these people are oblivious to his daily trips to the Tayrangi. They had known, it’s only that they didn’t know exactly what for though they had a hunch. And now, he practically confirmed it. He was persistently going there for you.
Meanwhile, the pieces in your mind instantly fell into place. His paleness yesterday, the cummerbund, the obvious weariness... He had been bleeding out while lifting things that normally needed the strength of two men.
“Thank you all for gathering so quickly,” Jake began, clearing his throat as he addressed the elders. “I spoke with Ikeyni and Ruk’e yesterday. We have expanded our flight perimeters, and we drastically need our most skilled ikran riders back in the vanguard. Y/N has agreed to step back into her role.”
As the chieftains murmured their approval, the briefing began. You forced your mind to focus, stepping up to the map table to report on the coastal movements. “The Tayrangi borders are currently stable,” you said, your voice serious and level. “We ran three separate scouts and extended it along the northern reef daily. So far, it's untouched.”
You reached across the wide table for a wooden marker to illustrate the scout lines, but your fingers missed it by a few inched. Before you could lean forward again, a hand moved into your field of vision.
Neteyam picked up the marker for you.
As he extended his arm, a subtle flinch crossed his features. His jaw clenched so hard the muscles in his neck strained, the simple effort of reaching across the table obviously hurt him. But when his golden eyes turned to meet yours, the pain vanished behind a cool mask of a hardened warrior. He stared at you with an intense, unblinking focus that made your face feel incredibly hot.
The silence stretched for a beat too long. Jake cleared his throat loudly, and from the corner of the pavilion, Lo'ak let out a highly audible, mocking snicker.
You quickly tore your gaze away, your cheeks burning. “Thanks...” you muttered, looking at the map through your lashes.
“You're welcome,” Neteyam drawled, his voice low and smooth despite the sweat glistening on his brow.
You bit your lip, your cheeks still burning as you forced your voice to level to continue your report. The moment the council was dismissed, Neteyam stayed back, lingering by his father's side to converse with the elders. He was very obviously trying to avoid leaving the pavilion at the same time as you.
But you weren't going to let him escape. You walked out with your arms crossed and waited right outside the entrance, your eyes already narrowed into slits. When Neteyam finally emerged, he stopped dead in his tracks. Seeing you standing there like a warden, he took a breath and adjusted his posture, walking toward you with every ounce of military bravado he could muster, desperately trying to hide the slight limp in his stride. The red stain on his white bandage had grown wider.
“What is that?” you demanded without so much as a greeting, gesturing sharply to his torso.
Neteyam stopped two paces away, his expression carefully neutral as he looked away toward the trees. “Just a minor injury from the recent mission. It is nothing.”
“You got shot?” you pressed, stepping closer, your voice rising in genuine disbelief.
“It's a shrapnel,” he corrected quickly as if that made it all better.
“Great! An iron slug tore through your side, and you still came to the coast yesterday? You still did the heavy lifting? You still hiked miles on foot to your ikran?!”
“It was just small,” he lied smoothly, though his breathing was shallow.
“Then why is it actively bleeding?!“ your voice rose slightly.
“It just got strained yesterday, but it’s nothing serious—”
“Are you insane?!” you huffed, your anger finally boiling over. “My father died from a small wound and left my mother a widow, Neteyam! You are not thinking! You have a responsibility to this war, to your family, to your people! How can you preach to me about discipline and taking things seriously when you are out there compromising your own body for something so small?!”
Neteyam listened to your tirade, his ears pinning back slightly against his head. But he didn't flinch away from your fury, instead, he watched you with that stupidly twinkling eyes. He took a step closer, the hardened soldier completely melting away to reveal the raw, aching man underneath.
“What are you calling small? Your forgiveness? Your attention? The chance I was asking for from you? It’s not small to me, Y/N. It is everything to me... And right now, it is all that is holding me together,” he said softly, his golden eyes locking onto yours with a terrifying intensity.
“Must you really put yourself at risk like that?” you cried, throwing your hands up in exasperation.
He groaned, closing his eyes momenyarily, when you could no longer hold your tears back. You are so scared right now, so worried for him, it’s not even funny.
“Just let me, alright? I said I will do everything to earn the right to at least be near you again, and this is me standing by my words. Like what you told me to do,“ he said, his voice cracking under the weight of his conviction. He stepped into your space, ignoring the sharp twinge in his side. “I told you, I will do whatever it takes. I did not want to miss a single day of trying to show you that I will show up. Even if I am bleeding, even if you do not look at me, I will be there.”
You stared at him, your breath catching in your throat. The sheer, stubborn idiocy of his devotion was infuriating, but beneath the anger, that stubborn wall of ice around your heart suffered another massive, catastrophic crack.
“Well, you don't have to do all that anymore,” you said, looking down at his bleeding bandage, your tone softening into something weary. “I am back on the council now. I will be here in the forest. You don't need to fly to the coast for me.”
“It does not change anything,” Neteyam countered instantly. He reached out, his hand hovering near your arm, close enough for you to feel the heat of his fever, though he refrained from touching you. “Just because you are back in the pavilion does not mean I am done. I will still work for your forgiveness, Y/N. I will still do everything in my power until you can look at me and trust me the way you used to. I am not stopping.”
You looked up at him, your mouth slightly open, completely at a loss for words. You mouth opened again to retort, but before you could even speak, a sudden, frantic rustling erupted from the pavilion entrance. Lo’ak came scrambling out, his limbs flailing wildly as he tried to prevent himself from falling into the dirt.
You and Neteyam quickly turned to him, only to get surprised to see not just Lo’ak, but an entire audience: Jake, Neytiri, Ikeyni, and Ruk’e. They were all standing completely still, their expressions a mix of profound interest and varying degrees of amusement. But because Lo’ak had tripped and completely blown their cover, the privacy shattered instantly.
Ikeyni was the first to recover, clearing her throat with a loud, entirely performative cough. “Ah... Ruk'e, we must go and inspect the riders at the vanguard. Immediately.“
Neytiri smoothed down her braids, her sharp eyes twinkling as she looked anywhere but at her eldest son. “Ah, and I must find Tuk. We have... things to gather. Many things.“
Jake offered a highly unconvincing nod, clapping a hand on a thoroughly embarrassed Lo’ak’s shoulder. “Right. And I have an urgent meeting with the elders about... perimeter lines.”
“I am hungry,” Ruk’e announced flatly to the sky, ignoring the fact that he had consumed a massive breakfast less than an hour ago.
Lo’ak let out a low whistle, backing away alongside the adults. Within three seconds, the entire crowd had vanished, leaving you two alone.
You turned back to Neteyam, your ears pinning flat against your head as you glared at him, trying desperately to mask the raging blush creeping up your neck. “You need to go see the Tsahik. Right now. You are bleeding through your bandage.”
Neteyam nodded, but he didn't move. He stayed standing there, towering over you, watching your fiery exasperation with a soft, maddening look of pure adoration. You groaned, a sound of defeat tearing from your throat.
Reaching out, you firmly grabbed his wrist and began dragging him yourself toward the Tsahik’s tent. “Move, you stubborn man,” you muttered. You figured you wanted to see exactly how small this wound actually was.
When you pulled him into the warmth of the Tsahik’s tent, Mo’at didn't look even remotely surprised to see you practically hauling the clan's golden heir by his arm.
“Ah, and he returns,” Mo’at remarked dryly, setting down a bowl of poultice. “Did I not tell you last night, Neteyam, when you came home violently ill and shaking with fever, that your flesh would tear? Look at this!”
With practiced, firm hands, she unclipped the medical wrap. When the bloody fabric fell away, your breath hitched, and you winced sharply.
The wound was not small. It was an angry tear about as long as your pinky finger, stretching deep into the muscle of his side, the edges raw and weeping fresh blood from where he had strained it.
“You are a liar,” you hissed, the fear in your chest turning into a surge of anger. You reached out and forcefully pinched his shoulder. “You said it was small!”
Neteyam’s hand instantly shot up, his fingers gently trapping yours against his shoulder. His twinkling eyes locked onto yours, completely unbothered by the pinch, and he flashed a rare smile that showed his pearly whites. It was so genuine, so disarming, that the hot anger in your chest simmered down into a helpless flutter.
“There is nothing to worry about, Y/N,” he murmured softly. “I’ve had worse before.”
You merely hissed at him in response, pulling your hand back.
Mo’at wiped the blood away and applied a fresh layer of soothing poultice, wrapping the midriff with tight, clean linen. Once finished, she stood up, turning her sharp gaze directly onto you. “Y/N, I am entrusting this hard-headed man to you. He does not listen to me, to his mother, or to his father. He needs strict bed rest. That wound will never close if he keeps moving and straining himself.”
You nodded with absolute solemnity, crossing your arms. “You can trust me, Tsahik. I will personally castrate this man if he even thinks about lifting a finger.”
Mo’at let out a rare, breathy chuckle, shaking her head as she gathered her bowls and exited the tent, leaving the two of you alone.
You turned to him. “Sleep,” you hissed.
“Alright, alright,” he mumbled, a soft chuckle escaping him as he sank into the furs with a weary sigh, his eyes half-closed as he looked up at you through his lashes. “No need for castration... that would make you miss your babies...”
The last words were a barely audible, sleepy whisper, but the tent was so quiet that they rang like a bell in your ears. “What?!” you snapped, your entire face exploding in a violent heat.
Neteyam just smiled lazily, turning his head onto the fur pillow. “Sleeping now...”
True to your word, you made sure he took his rest. For the next week, you refused to let him leave the Tsahik’s tent unless necessary, sitting by his side, forcing him to eat, and threatening him with your dagger whenever he tried to sit up too fast.
But once his fever broke and the wound finally closed into a healthy, silver seam, he went back to waiting at your feet, and he became entirely shameless. He would bring you the sweetest fruits before morning drills, sharpen your arrow tips and hunting dagger, and sit quietly beside you during meals, completely content just to exist in the same space. He was still the same as before. There was no pushing or demanding, only working to seamlessly wove himself into your daily routines.
If you are to be asked when exactly did the remaining ice around your heart melted, you’d say it had turned into a puddle long ago. But now, as the Hometree came alive with the people singing and dancing to celebrate a turn of successful hunts, your chest was singing with a familiar hum. One you never thought you’d feel again. You stood near the outer roots, watching the dancers, when a familiar warmth bloomed at your side.
Neteyam stood beside you, wearing his formal warrior gear. He didn’t speak, but his hand hung loosely between you, his fingers inches from yours. You bit your lip, looking at his profile through your lashes, noting his sharp jawline and his beautiful patterns. It was the same image of the boy you swore to make fall in love with you. You wondered what thirteen-year-old you would have thought if she knew that this man literally bled into the dirt just to prove he wouldn't give up on you.
You let out a soft, long sigh. Slowly, deliberately, you moved your hand to intertwine your fingers with his.
Neteyam froze. His head snapping down to look at your joined hands, and when he lifted his eyes to yours, they were bright, watering. “Y/N...” he breathed, his voice trembling.
“What?” you whispered, a soft, familiar smirk finally returning to your lips. “Some would say this is the perfect time for a kiss... Unless you’re scared,” you mumbled.
He blinked, his forehead creasing for a moment before a ragged, breathless laugh escaped him. It was you who moved and tiptoed to press a soft kiss on his lips, and you felt his arm wrap around you, pulling you closer, kissing you better. You smiled against his lips.
“I forgive you, Neteyam...” you pulled away only to murmur, and he chased your lips.
“I love you...“ he murmured, pressing his forehead against yours. The sheer, unadulterated happiness radiating from him was intoxicating, and you cannot help but grin.
But the beautiful moment was violently ripped away when a deafening horn blew, shattering the festival music and the celebration.
“Fire! Fire! Fire!” The people announced.
High above, in the eastern branches of the Hometree’s canopy, a terrifying orange glow erupted. Your breath seized at your chest, a cry of panic escaping you as the people frantically ran to and fro in all directions. Neteyam moved, signaling to the nearby hunters.
“All hunters! Gather water from the river! Move!” he roared, crisp and authoritative.
The communal clearing exploded into calculated chaos. You and Neteyam sprinted toward the lower roots, organizing lines of warriors to haul water containers up the massive vines, while flyers are gathering water from the river to splash it to extinguish the fire. At first, everyone thought it was an accident, but as the smoke cleared, a familiar deep thrumming vibrated through the air.
From the clouds, the shapes of sever RDA gunships dropped into view firing blindly into the canopy.
“To the air!” Jake’s booming voice echoed.
You and Neteyam sprinted to the high roosts, connecting to your ikrans in a synchronized flash of movement and flying into the open sky where the warriors on their ikrans were already fighting fiercely. You dove through the smoke to shoot pilots and sent arrows to the exposed underbellies of gunships you happen to get close to. Within an hour, the invading gunships were spiraling into the jungle in balls of fire.
You watched the fire it caused to the forest, your chest aching with fury and grief at the sight of it.
The war party was victorious, but the destruction it brought made all of you grim. The eastern branches of Hometree were charred black, but it didn’t burn the entirety, and fortunately, no one was dead or gravely injured.
The council convened immediately beneath the glowing roots, the air thick with tension.
“It is no longer safe to keep the children and the elders here. Hometree is too big a target,“ Jake said, his face shadowed by the firelight as he leaned over the map.
“We must relocate... for the meantime,” Neytiri agreed, her voice tight with grief.
“The Hallelujah Mountains. It’s filled of magnetic interference, their metal birds wouldn’t like it very much up there,” Neteyam spoke up, placing a stone on a specific grid of the map.
Jake nodded decisively. “We’ll send scouts, then we’ll evacuate those who cannot fight immediately. The warriors will stay on the ground to secure the perimeter and prepare our counter-strike.”
The plan was drawn swiftly. Jake didn’t want to wait longer. As soon as the clan is evacuated, the party will strike back. As you ordered some Tayrangi men to help with the evacuation, Neteyam caught your arm near the edge of the pavilion, his grup firm and his eyes holding a fierce, protective spark in them.
“After... After the battle is over...” he began, his eyes blinking too many times per second as he stammered for the right words to say.
“Hm?“ you prompted.
“Would you like...“ he trailed. “To have me as your mate?” he added, his words stumbling over one another, and even in the dark, you could see how his cheeks were tinted purple.
You blinked, your heart jumping at your throat, causing it to close as your eyes stung with hot tears. “How could I ever say no to that?” you said in a hoarse voice, your hand holding his firmly.
He pulled you close. “Yes?” he asked breathlessly and you nodded. His breath audibly caught in his throat, leaning forward to kiss you and pulling you even closer to deepen his kiss.
Neteyam broke the kiss reluctantly, his forehead resting against yours for one final, desperate second as the chaos of evacuation whirled around you two. He held your face in his hands, pressing another deep kiss. “Great Mother. I love you so much...”
You chuckled, gripping his forearm. “Glad you’ve finally caught up,“ you mumbled, giving him a peck.
“I have always been here, I was just stupid,” he chuckled, his eyes caressing your face.
The tender moment shattered, though, when a loud cough echoed from the shadows. Neteyam stiffened, and you pulled back just enough to see your brother stepping into the dim light. He had his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes narrowed at Neteyam that practically shouted an order to let you go this exact second.
Neteyam cleared his throat, his hands slowly lowering, though he kept his fingers loosely holding your hip for just a heartbeat longer before fully stepping back. You bit your lip, stopping yourself from smiling as you took Neteyam’s hand to hold it. Ruk’e looked at you with a look that would normally be accompanied with a snort.
“Mother is looking for you. Right now. She says the Tayrangi scouts need their final instructions for the eastern ridge, and you're the only one who knows the layout of the lower caves.”
You pushed your lips forward. “I'm on my way,” you said, turning to Neteyam and tiptoeing to kiss him again. You bit his lower lip before pulling away, patting his chest. “Later.“
You turned away, your tail moving behind you, its hairy tip brushing his lower abdomen. You heard his gasp and you grinned as you walked away. You brought this small pocket of joy as your ikran perched on a cliff along with the others, waiting for the signal to fight. Neteyam was several ikrans away from you, although Toruk’s big head was almost hiding him from sight. He caught your gaze, giving you a fierce, sharp nod.
The signal came not from a horn, but from the unnatural tremor of distant explosions. War cries from your people and from the warriors from various clans erupted as hundreds of ikran took to the sky.
You plunged off the ledge, diving straight into the smoke. Your ikran, holding a large boulder in its hind legs, flew over a gunship’s rotors and threw the boulder with a force that tilted the gunship before it exploded into a ball of orange flame. You banked hard, narrowly dodging a volley of gunfire directed at you.
You pulled your ikran’s reins up, pulling the string of your bow before releasing an arrow through the glass of the gunship pursuing you. You watched the vehicle spin wildly, clipping another gunship before exploding into the nearest floating mountain. A sharp war cry tore from your throat, raising your bow before flying higher.
Below, you found Neteyam, riding with the reckless bravery of Toruk Makto himself, but with the terrifying precision of Neytiri. He guided his ikran into a dive, sending arrow grenades directly onto the rotors of a Dragon Assault ship, flying upstream before the large aircraft blasted, his war cry echoing over the din of combat.
For what seemed like hours, the sky bled. Whenever you feared you couldn't find Neteyam in the swirling ikrans flying in the air, he’d appear by your side, moving perfectly synchronized with you. Every time a threat closed in on your blind spot, Neteyam’s arrow finds them. Every time gunships threatened to box him in, your own lethal accuracy puts an end to it.
By the time the sun began to dip below the horizon, the final RDA gunship was on a slow descent in flames. This should be a victorious moment, but the sight of the burning jungle below you filled you with a grief that seized your breath. The adrenaline of the battle took hours to fade, but after securing the perimeter of the clan’s hideout, and convening with the council to speak of the next steps the party should take to completely batter the RDA, you felt Neteyam’s hand catch your forearm again.
You turned to him, your excitement bubbling in your chest despite your exhaustion. You followed him as he navigated some steep edges and climbed a few vines, wondering where exactly you two are going, but when he pulled you up on what seemed like a hidden hollow, the sight of a secluded, bioluminescent pool surprised you. The water glowed with a soft, blue light, casting shifting, watery patterns across the jagged walls.
Your mouth curled into a huge smile, turning to him. “This is beautiful...”
“Found it when I was sixteen aimlessly flying around here. I thought then that maybe this could be a place for dates with my mate,” he said, smiling at you, his face devoid of tension.
“Dates?” you echoed.
“It’s... a human thing. My parents often go on dates. Just the two of them, spending time with each other...” he explained.
You smiled, “I like that.”
His hand traveled up your forearm to hold your elbow, pulling you closer. “Good. Because I’ve always thought of bringing you in this place,” he mumbled.
You looked up at him, the soft blue light from the pool catching the warmth in his eyes. “Even back then?”
“Yes,” he murmured, his voice dropping into a reverent tone that made your chest tighten pleasantly. He reached down and gently slid his fingers between yours, leading you to the edge of the water. It was you who pulled him to sink into its chilly waters. “Even when I was trying to convince myself that I had to have laser focus on my duty, to be the most competent warrior I could be for my people, you were always the exception... You were always the tilt in my world.“
He held your jaw in his hand, leaning forward to press a soft kiss on your lips. His arms wrapped around your waist, his forehead pressed against yours.
“I know you forgave me. I know you said I didn't have to keep doing... all of that. But I need to say it, ” he paused, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. “I am so sorry. I will always be sorry... For the words I threw at you, for the pain I caused, for making you feel like you had to change who you were. I will spend the rest of my life making sure you never feel that way again.”
You moved your head slightly, you nose brushing his. The raw, unshielded vulnerability in his golden eyes was breathtaking. The proud, stubborn commander of the Omatikaya was completely laid bare before you, entirely surrendered. You have only ever dreamed of that.
“Neteyam,” You said softly, cupping his jaw with both hands. He stared at you, his eyes bright and swimming with an overwhelming wave of emotion. “The girl who used to be reckless might be gone, but the woman standing in front of you loves you more than she ever did,” you whispered, a soft, tearful smile breaking across your face. “I see you, Neteyam. I see everything you've done to make up for what you did. You don't have to carry the guilt anymore. Lay it down.”
A breathless sigh escaped his lips, and he closed his eyes, leaning heavily into the palm of your hand as if a massive weight had finally been lifted from his shoulders. When he opened them again, the absolute devotion burning within them made your heart skip a beat. “I love you,” he breathed, his words an unbreakable vow. “Baby, I love you so much.”
He leaned forward, capturing your lips in a kiss that was entirely different from the stolen moments before the battle. This was slow, deep, yet desperate. You groaned softly, your fingers tangling into his braids, he pulled you even closer until there was no space left between you. His hands moved down to your hips, gently stepping you back until you hit the velvety edge of the pool.
He pulled away to look down at your face, his large form towering over you so much now that you’re nearly lying down on the flat edge. Slowly, deliberately, he brought his kuru forward, the glowing tendrils at the tip unfurling, searching for anything to connect with. “Are you sure you want me as your husband?”
You raised a brow, “Is that a warning?”
He pressed a hard kiss on your lips. “It’s only that there is no turning back... You are mine. Forever.” he whispered conspiratorially.
You took your kuru behind you, “I’ve never been one to turn back in fear...” You met him halfway, bringing your kuru forward until the tendrils entwined in a sudden, breathtaking flash of pure energy that caused borh of you to jerk involuntarily. You watched his pupils dilate, the black almost swallowing the gold.
His world felt as though it expanded, then narrowed down to just you, while you could feel the steady, powerful thrum of his heartbeat as if it were beating in your own chest. You felt the raw, overwhelming depth of his love for you, the fear he felt he drove you away from him, the desperation that ate at him when you no longer cared for him, the hope that bloomed in him when you were so worried about his small wound, and the pure, weeping joy that had consumed him when you finally held his hand at the festival.
You let out a ragged, trembling breath, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck and pulled him down into a deep, bruising kiss. Neteyam groaned softly against your lips, his arms instantly locking around your waist. He pulled you flush against his chest, lifting you slightly off the stone as if he couldn't get you close enough. The kiss shifted from soft and tender, to the desperate hardness of a man who wanted to devour you.
His hands were everywhere on your body, unclasping your beaded top and untying your loincloth behind your tail. You chuckled in his ears when his hand on your tail tickled you, and he angled his head to press a hard kiss on your jaw, shedding your loincloth off of you. He hauled you up to the ledge before following you to hover over you, his chest heaving as he looked down at you, naked under him. The cool blue light of the secluded pool danced across his broad shoulders, making you shiver with awareness about how large of a man he actually is. He looked down at you with a hunger born from years of restraining himself.
His large hands slid down from your waist, his thumbs tracing your curves down to you thighs before firmly pressing your thighs apart. You let out a soft gasp as the cool air hit your skin, but the chill was instantly replaced by the intense heat of his body as he settled between your knees. He looked up at you, his eyes dark and searching, demanding you witness exactly how completely he belonged to you.
Slowly, he lowered himself, his calloused hands guiding your knees wider, draping your legs over his broad shoulders. Your breath caught in your throat as his breath fanned across the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. He pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the smooth skin of your knee, then another higher up, tracking a slow, agonizing path inward until you were trembling beneath him.
“Neteyam,” you called, panicking as you pushed him back by his shoulder.
His eyes snapped up to you, his eyes dark and dangerous, as if waiting for you to tell him no, but the heat in his eyes flustered you with a heat on your cheeks. He kissed your inner thigh again, and when his lips finally found the center of your heat, a sharp gasp escaped you, your hand squeezing his shoulder.
He pressed a gentle hand on your chest, travelling a bit sideways to cup your breast. “Lay back,“ he mumbled and you did, propping yourself up on your elbows.
His lips found you again and he groaned against your flesh, his hands wrapping securely around the back of your thighs to hold you steady as he parted you with his fingers. His tongue was warm, broad, and too deliberate, drawing upward, tasting you fully. The connection through your entwined kurus sent a jolt of unadulterated pleasure down his spine, and in turn, you could feel his own arousal spiking through the bond, heavy and demanding.
You arched your hips off the ground, your fingers digging into the thick roots beside your head. “Neteyam...” you whimpered, your head rolling back.
He grew even relentless, his pace quickening, his tongue swirling and pressing harder against your sensitive nub. Your hips bucked when his finger slid inside you, feeling uncomfortable with the slight stretch as his mouth sucked at your heat. The sensation was too noverwhelming, and the bond is only amplifying everything. You could feel his deep satisfaction at your undoing, his pride swelling as your body began to tighten around his fingers, and with a firm stroke of his tongue, you felt a powerful tremor in your body, a loud sob tearing from your throat as your thighs clamped around his head.
Neteyam held you through the tremors, swallowing your heat, his purr vibrating heavily against you until your breathing began to slow. As he dragged himself back up to hover over you, his face flushed and his lips glistening, you caught your breath. “That was insane...” you huffed.
His eyes lightened a bit, the darkness yielding to his curiosity. “Really?“
“You know how good it felt for me,” you smiled, tugging at your entwined kurus. A sudden, wicked spark flared in your chest, traveling straight through the bond to hit him. “I want to do it to you, too,” you whispered, your voice husky, your eyes locking onto his.
Neteyam blinked, a sudden wave of heat washing through his expression as his pupils dilated further. “You don’t need—”
“No,” you cut him off, your hands sliding down his muscled abdomen, until it lowered where you felt him. He breathe sharply when you felt him through his loincloth, your hand gripping the massive hardness. “I want it in my mouth, too...”
He closed his eyes for a moment before giving in with a low, defeated groan, shedding his loincloth off before rolling onto his back on the moss. You chuckled, the sound so womanly to him he felt a currently of electricity running exclusively on the margins of his body, causing his ears to pin back against his ears as he watched you rose on your knees, parting your thighs to straddle him.
His hand moved to touch you between your thighs and you jolted with a loud moan, nearly falling over if you didn’t catch yourself by propping a hand on his chest. His fingers caressed your velvety folds, gathering your fresh wetness.
“I need to concentrate, ‘Teyam...” you groaned and he chuckled. You saw him bring his fingers into his mouth.
“Sorry... You just taste so good,” he licked his lips, reaching to kiss you, but you moved your head to kiss his jaw instead.
You pressed soft kisses on his skin, contrasting his hard and heavy kisses. His hands hovered at your waist, his head falling back, letting you slide down his body. He watched you through heavy eyelids, his hands clenching into fists at his sides as you positioned yourself between his muscled thighs. You bit your lip at the sight of his length fully erect, thick, and leaking a bead of thick pre-cum at its tip.
You leaned down, your braids brushing against his thighs as you wrapped your lips around the smooth, hot head of his shaft. Neteyam’s breath hitched violently. He threw his head back against the moss, his jaw clenching so hard the cords in his neck strained as you took him into your mouth, your hands fisting and moving by instinct. Your tongue swirled around the ridge, your hand wrapping around the base to stroke him as your mouth moved.
He moaned, his hips bucking as the bond flared with a white hot intensity. Through the connection, you felt the sheer, agonizing pleasure ripping through him, the tight, desperate control he was trying to maintain as the wet warmth of your mouth drove him insane.
“Oh, baby, please, I can't—“ he gasped out, his hips lifting involuntarily off the ground as your mouth sucked him harder. He reached down, his large hands tangling into your braids.
You thought he was going to push you away, but he only held your head there with more pressure for a few more desperate seconds that his largeness almost choked you, but then he gently pulled you up, his breathing completely shattered. You groaned, frowning that he had to pull his cock out of your mouth.
He looked you in the eyes, serious and with finality. “No more. I want to come inside you.”
He hauled you up by your waist, flipping you beneath him in one fluid motion. He was completely done with waiting. His large hand pinned both your wrists above your head, his other hand holding your waist in place as he aligned his hard length against your softness, his mouth coming down to capture yours.
With a slow, heavy thrust, Neteyam began burying himself inside you, until he’d sank in entirely. You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders , letting out a breathless cry, feeling your walls stretching to accommodate him. The sheer, overwhelming sensation of the fit sent an exquisite pleasure for the both of you through the bond, and it felt as though your souls were melting into one another, leaving no distinction between where you and him stand.
Neteyam paused for a second, his eyes closing as he absorbed the tight, wet heat of your walls squeezing him. A ragged groan tore from his chest before he began to move in a pace that was immediately hard, deep, and desperate, as if he was pouring into you all the pent-up energy he had left from the battle.
He drove into you with a fiercely possessive rhythm, his hips pounding against yours with a strength that had you crying out his name. Every time he pulled back, he returned deeper, marking you, claiming every inch of your body as his own. His arm wrapped under your body, while the other hand hiked your knee up to your chest, making sure you receive each of his forceful thrust.
The bond left no walls or armors to crack, both of you feeling only the pure, intoxicating love, devotion, and absolute surrender you have for each other. The tension in your lower abdomen coiled tighter and tighter until it was unbearable. Neteyam’s pace became frantic, his jaw locked, his eyes fixed on yours with a terrifying intensity as he felt your walls begin to tighten around him.
“Oh, baby,” he choked out, his grip on your thigh tightening.
You screamed his name as your body convulsed around him, the pleasure shattering your vision into a thousand white sparks. Your grip on him triggered his own release, and a deep, guttural roar escaped him as he thrust brutally deep into you one last time and held himself there, his body stiffening as he spilled himself completely inside you.
“Fuck, I’m seeing stars...” he groaned, collapsing against your chest, his head buried in the crook of your neck, his own chest rising and falling in ragged, exhausted gasps. You broke into a weakened laugh, your hold on him loosening up a little as you pressed soft kisses on his temple.
The weeks that followed were a blur of war council meetings, suffocating maps, and aerial patrols around the High Camp. The ongoing struggle against the RDA had left very little time for you and Neteyam to enjoy your first days together, but it’s when you’re high above the sky that everything seemed to be yours.
You banked hard to the left, your ikran letting out a shrill cry as the wind rushed past your ears. Behind you, Neteyam dipped beneath a floating vine, a wild, unburdened laugh tearing from his throat. For a few glorious hours, the shadow of the RDA did not touch you. There were no battles, no strategies, and no bloodshed. There was only the dizzying feeling of flying, the wind, and the intoxicating freedom of racing the Neteyam through the floating mountains and its hanging vines.
He pulled up right beside you, his ikran's wingtip nearly brushing yours. When he turned his head, his golden eyes were bright, his smile throwing all his typical military crispness to the wind. You flashed him a sharp, challenging smirk, diving straight through a cascading waterfall.
“Keep up!” you taunged, leaving him to chase your laughter through the mist.
By nightfall, the adrenaline gave way to the familiar craving for quiet. You returned to the hidden hollow, slipping into the bioluminescent pool. The chilly waters swirled around your waist as Neteyam hugged you sideways, his chin finding your shoulder, bending his large frame to fit himself at your side.
Every night felt different, but tonight was calmer, filled with your soft mumurs and his low, rumbling chatters as you talked for hours about nothing at all, your fingers tracing the faint, silvery marks of his scars, before the talking faded into the slow and heavy rhythm of your lovemaking.
You are a impatient woman, but you couldn’t deny your love for his deliberate, agonizing slowness sometimes, his hands anchoring your waist as he worshipped you. Every thrust was deep and strong, his lips pressed to your throat, whispering your name like a prayer until the sensations from the bond left you both breathless, tangled together in a sweating, blissful heap.
The sky was just beginning to shift from darkness to the bruised purple of pre-dawn light when you woke up, your body singing with delicious soreness and you snuggled closer to his warmth. You kissed the soft skin of his shoulder, you hand caressing his muscled chest down to his abdomen. You smiled when he stirred, pressing soft kisses on his shoulder and neck, until you reach his jaw.
“Wake up, handsome...“ you mumbled. “It’s your turn today.”
He groaned softly, pulling you closer to him. “I hate leaving you.”
You chuckled. “So dramatic, my handsome man. I will be close behind,” you said, patting his abdomen. “Quick, quick. Before they wake up.”
He grunted, hauling you on top of him effortlessly. His eyes, though sleepy, watched you darkly as his hands moved to knead your breasts. You gasped softly, your hand clutching at his bicep as you peered down at him.
“I’m still sore from last night,” you said with a little drama, pouting at him.
He bit his lip, cooing at you. “I’ll help...” his hands moved down to your waist, ready to roll you over to your back but you were quick to sit up.
“No thanks. I know it’s not really help,” you smirked, grabbing your top. “Get up, warrior. You don’t want to get caught, do you?”
Neteyam groaned, a soft smile on his face before getting up, his hand clamping on your ankle to pull you toward him. You smiled when he bent his head a little to level with you. “Kiss,“ he mumbled and you gave him your lips.
You two kissed and kissed, but when you felt him nudging you to lie on your back, your eyes snapped open, pulling away from the kiss with narrowed eyes. “Neteyam...”
He smiled, his head falling dramatically. You rushed him, watching how the sun is almost peeking through the bruised sky, and Neteyam moved as quickly as he could, stealthily slipping back into the camp, walking with a light, quiet stride, a faint smile still on his lips as he neared his family’s tent.
“Out late?”
Neteyam froze, his ears pinning flat against his head. His father stepped out from the shadow, his arms crossed. From just inside the tent flap, Neytiri stepped forward, her sharp eyes narrowed at her eldest son in a way that made Neteyam’s posture instantly snap into military rigidity.
Jake sighed. “Neteyam... I've been meaning to talk to you, boy. I know you’re sort of courting Y/N. The whole clan knows it, everyone knows it, but you cannot just spend nights after nights with her to only Eywa knows where. You are both unmated. It's a small camp, people talk, and it’s not going to be a good look for her reputation.”
Neytiri stepped fully into the dim light, her tail twitching. “Just last night, when you had to sleep here, you looked like you were being sent to war instead of just holding Tuk because she’s asked to snuggle with you,” she pointed out. “You best ask for her hand from Ikeyni, son. Formally. You can’t dishonor her with this fooling around that you young people tend to engage in these days.“
Neteyam opened his mouth to speak and explain, but the look on his father’s face had him turning his head to follow Jake’s line of vision. He then saw you stepping into the clearing, completely unaware of the tribunal happening right in front of the Sully tent. You had planned to quickly slip into the yurt you shared with your mother to change your clothes and fix your hair, but you had taken the wrong turn.
You stopped dead in your tracks.
To say you looked thoroughly ravaged was an understatement. Your hair was a wild, tangled halo of loose braids, your lips were visibly swollen, and your chest was heaving from the hurried walk. You looked exactly like a woman who had spent the last hours being thoroughly fucked. Jake blinked, looking from you to his son.
Neytiri tilted her head, her gaze shifting slowly from your wild hair down to Neteyam’s deeply flushed face. She looked at her son pointedly, her eyes narrowing to dangerous slits. “Neteyam...”
Neteyam looked at you, then at his parents, his chest rising as he took a deep, steadying breath. The boyish embarrassment vanished, replaced by the fierce, unyielding pride of a man who knew exactly where he stood.
He walked over to you, completely ignoring his father’s stunned expression, and firmly wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him.
“I will personally apologize to the Olo’eykte, Mother. Because there is no need to ask for her hand,” Neteyam said, squeezing your waist a bit as he looked at his parents. “We are already mated.”
Your heart jumped into your throat, your cheeks burning.
Jake stared at his son, utterly speechless for three long seconds, before a slow, defeated smirk began to tug at the corner of his mouth. “Well... damn. Congratulations, I guess,” he said. “But you need to talk to Ikeyni about this. Immediately.”
“What is the matter at hand?” Your mother’s voice coming from your clan’s side of the camp.
You startled, pursing your lips. Neytiri watched you, the stern face for her son breaking into a soft smile as she shook her head in comical disbelief for your and Neteyam’s stubbornness.
“We have a ceremony to prepare, Ikeyni,“ Neytiri turned to your mother with a triumphant smile. “The two seemed to have finally met halfway.”
• summary: Neteyam realizing he’s in love with you after you get injured during training and he completely loses his composure for the first time in front of everyone.
The humidity of the Omatikaya rainforest clings to your skin. High above, the canopy filters the sunlight into jagged shards of gold and emerald, casting dancing shadows across the already full training grounds. Neteyam stands with his spine in a rigid line, his bow gripped in a hand that never trembles. He is the golden son, the blueprint of a warrior, the one who never miss a mark and never lets a slip of emotion breach his composure.
Beside him, you move with a fluidity that always make his chest tighten. You aren't as disciplined as he is, but you possess a raw, instinctive grace that mirrors the jungle itself. You catch him staring and flash a grin, your golden eyes shimmering with mischief.
"Still trying to figure out how I keep landing hits on you, Neteyam?"
Neteyam shifts his gaze forward, though the ghost of a smile tugs at his lips. "You rely on luck and chaos. It works until it doesn't."
"Chaos is just a strategy you haven't mastered yet," you counter, stepping closer. The scent of crushed ferns and rain follows you. "Admit it. You're bored of being perfect. You want to see what happens when you let go."
"I am not bored," he replies, with steady voice. "I am focused."
"Focused on what? The way my body moves when I'm about to strike?"
Neteyam finally looks at you, his expression neutral despite the drumming of his heart. "Your tail is a giveaway. You're telegraphing every move."
You laugh, a bright, melodic sound that echoes through the trees. "Then stop watching my tail and start seeing me."
The training session intensifies. Around you, other young warriors spar, the air filling with the rhythmic thud of wooden staffs and the sharp cries of exertion. Kiri watches from the sidelines, her head tilted, a somewhat intriguing expression painting her face.
"Again!" Jake barked.
You move. Neteyam blocks your strike, the wooden staffs clashing with a sharp crack. He steps back, circling you, his mind calculating your trajectory. He likes this—the dance of combat, the way your breaths synchronized in the heat. But more than the fight, he likes the way you challenge the walls he have built around himself.
"You're thinking too much," you whisper, your voice a low vibration. "Stop being a soldier for one second. Just be you."
"I am me," Neteyam grunts, sweeping your leg.
You tumble, rolling across the mossy earth and springing back up in one seamless motion. You are breathless, a stray lock of hair clinging to your damp forehead.
"Is that all the mighty warrior has?" you tease, though your chest heaves.
"I'm just warming up."
"Prove it."
You charge again, but this time, the environment betrays you. As you pivot for a high strike, your foot catches on a slick, protruding root, hidden beneath a layer of decaying leaves. The balance you usually maintain vanishes in a heartbeat. Your momentum carries you forward, not in a controlled strike, but in a desperate, uncontrolled fall.
Neteyam reaches out, his hand closing on air.
The sound that follows is sickening. A sharp, wet thud. You don't scream but a stifled gasp still escapes you. You simply collapse, your arm twisted at an unnatural angle as you slamed into a jagged outcrop of rock. A deep gash opened along your forearm, the crimson blood stark and jarring against your striking blue skin. You are losing a lot of blood.
For a second, the world went silent. The other warriors stopped. Jake froze.
Neteyam feels something inside him snap. The discipline, the composure, the carefully maintained mask of the perfect son, it all shattered like glass.
"Y/N!"
He doesn't walk; he launches himself toward you, his knees hitting the dirt with a force that bruise. He doesn't care. He doesn't see the crowd gathering. He doesn't see his father, Jake, approaching with a look of concern. All he sees is the blood and the way your eyes are clouded with shock.
"Don't move. Don't you dare move," Neteyam chokes out. His voice, usually a pillar of strength, was now a frayed wire.
You try to shift, a small moan escapes your lips. "I'm... I'm okay. It's just a—"
"Shut up! Just stay still!" he snaps, his voice cracking.
The crowd gasps. Neteyam has never raised his voice in anger, and he has certainly never lost his temper during a training exercise. He is trembling, so hard, that the shakes are evident on his entire frame.
He rips a strip of cloth from his own waist, his movements frantic, almost clumsy, and presses the fabric against your wound, his fingers slick with your blood.
"Neteyam, go get the healers and let them handle it," Jake says, reaching out to touch his son's shoulder.
Neteyam flinches away from his father's touch, his eyes wide and wild. "Get back! Just go get the healers! Now!"
Jake recoils, stunned. He has seen his son face down multiple predators and the terrors of war, but he has never seen him look this terrified. This isn't the fear of a soldier; it is the raw panic of a man watching his entire world bleed out on the forest floor.
"I've got you," Neteyam whispers, his forehead dropping to touch yours. He is sobbing now, the sounds jagged and guttural. "I've got you, Y/N. Please. Please be okay. Please."
You look up at him, your breath coming in shallow hitches. You have always seen Neteyam as the untouchable prince, the boy who carries the weight of the world without a grimace. Seeing him broken, seeing the tears streaming down his face and the desperation in his eyes, sends a different kind of shock through you.
"Neteyam," you whisper, your voice also trembling. "You're... you're crying."
"I can't lose you," he gasps, pressing the bandage harder against your arm. "I can't. I didn't tell you. I didn't tell you yet."
"Tell me what?"
He doesn't answer. He can't. He just clings to you, his large hand cradling the back of your head, shielding you from the eyes of the village. He is shaking so hard that you could feel it through your own skin.
Kiri arrives with the healers shortly after, gently pushing Neteyam aside to treat the wound. For the first time in his life, Neteyam doesn't argue. He doesn't lead. He simply stands by, his chest heaving, his hands stained red, watching every movement of the healers with an intensity that bordered on obsession. He loks like a man who had just survived a shipwreck, clinging to the only piece of driftwood left in the ocean.
Hours later, the sun has dipped below the horizon, leaving the forest bathing in a ghostly, bioluminescent glow. The plants pulse with soft purples and neon blues, mirroring the heartbeat of the world. You lie on a woven mat in the healing hut, your arm bound in clean linens and treated with pungent herbs.
The curtain flutters and Neteyam steps inside. He looks exhausted. The rigidity is gone, replaced by a heavy, lingering sadness. He doesn't say anything at first; he just sits beside you, his eyes scanning your face as if checking to ensure you haven't vanished.
"You scared everyone, you know," he says softly.
You smile weakly. "I think you scared them more. I've never seen you yell at your dad."
Neteyam looks away, a flush of embarrassment creeping up his neck. "I lost my head."
"You didn't just lose your head, Neteyam. You fell apart. Don't ask me how but it was actually kinda attractive."
He lets out a short, breathless laugh, finally meeting your eyes. The humor fades quickly, replaced by a solemnity that made the air between you feel thick.
"I thought you were gone," he whispers. "I know it was just a fall, just a cut, but for a second... the world went dark. I realized that if you weren't in it, there was no point in being perfect. There was no point in any of it."
You reach out with your good hand, your fingers brushing against his cheek. "Why didn't you tell me before?"
"Because I don't know how to do it," he admitts, leaning into your touch. "My life is a list of expectations. Be a leader. Be a warrior. Be the example. I don't know how to love you."
"Maybe just stop following the plan," you suggest.
Neteyam closes his eyes, a single tear escaping. "I don't want to be a blueprint for my dad anymore. I just want to be yours. After today I'm never leaving your side."
You pull him closer, guiding his head down to your shoulder. He collapses against you, the weight of his hidden emotions finally finding a place to land. He breathes in the scent of the healing herbs and your skin, his grip tightening possessively.
"You're an idiot," you murmur, kissing the top of his head.
"I know," he whispers back.
"A very dramatic idiot."
"Probably."
He pulls back just enough to look at you, his golden eyes searching yours. The vulnerability is still there, raw and exposed. He doesn't hide it this time. He doesn't mask the longing or the fear. He leans in, his movements slow and tentative, giving you every chance to pull away.
When your lips finally meet, it isn't the polished, perfect kiss of a prince. It is desperate and messy, tasting of longing. Neteyam groans into your mouth, a sound of pure relief, as if he was finally breathing after being underwater for years. His tongue sweeps against yours, claiming you with a hunger that spoke of months of suppressed desire.
You wrap your arm around his neck, pulling him flush against you. The friction of your bodies, the heat radiating between you, ignited a spark that have been simmering since you were children. Neteyam’s hand slids down your back, his fingers digging into your skin, grounding himself in the reality of your presence.
"I love you," he murmurs against your lips, his voice a rough, honest rasp. "I love you so much it terrifies me."
"Good," you whisper, pulling him back for another kiss. "It terrifies me too."
Neteyam smiles, a real, genuine smile that reaches his eyes. For the first time, he doesn't isn't putting on a performance to please anyone. The golden son has finally cracked, and in the wreckage of his perfection, he has found something far more valuable.
He stays by your side throughout the night, your fingers intertwined, watching the bioluminescent forest pulse in rhythm with your shared breath. The pressure of the clan, the weight of the war, and the expectations of his bloodline still exist, but they feel distant now, small and insignificant, compared to the girl in his arms.
As the first light of dawn filters through the canopy, Neteyam kisses your forehead, his expression one of absolute peace.
"Next time we spar," he whispers, "I'm not letting you get hurt anymore. I promise."
"Oh? And how do you plan to do that?"
"I don't know," he smiles, leaning in to kiss her again. "but i won't break my promise."
this is a reader x neteyam sully (tho reader has a name), I hope you enjoy it! this wasn't supposed to have two parts but it is so extended, nearly 16k+ words but please let me know if you want a part two... anyway, english is not my first language, sorry if anything is wrong or misunderstood.
the omatikaya children were difficult to separate from the forest itself.
they grew between roots thick as rivers, beneath curtains of moss and glowing spores, with dirt beneath their nails and leaves tangled into their braids. every child of the clan carried energy in different forms—some quieter than others, some wild enough to make the adults sigh whenever they vanished into the trees again.
ne’geza belonged to the second kind.
daughter of two respected hunters of the clan, she had been known since infancy by nearly everyone in high camp. her father, tsmukan, had fought beside jake sully during the battles against the sky people, a fearless scout known for crossing territory alone and returning with impossible information. her mother, sa’eyla, was one of the clan’s finest trackers, calm-eyed and sharp-tongued, the kind of woman even older warriors listened to carefully.
their daughter inherited both tempers.
“slow down!” ne’geza hissed, turning sharply enough that her braids whipped over her shoulder.
behind her came the loud snap of feet against wet roots.
“make me.”
a hand yanked her queue braid harshly from behind.
“ao!” she barked, spinning around immediately.
kxan—all elbows, fangs, and smug expressions—only grinned wider at her outrage. his ears tilted sideways mischievously while his tail flicked against the back of his calves in amusement.
they had known each other since before memory. before proper words. before hunting lessons and clan duties. their mothers joked eywa herself must have tied them together at birth purely to cause problems for everyone else.
he shoved her shoulder while walking past.
she shoved him harder.
he laughed.
“you walk too slow.”
“you speak too much.”
“you glare too much.”
“i should push you into the river.”
“you already tried last week.”
their arguing echoed beneath the trees while sunlight filtered through moving leaves overhead, broken into pieces of gold against their blue skin.
the river nearby sang softly against stone.
ne’geza’s irritation slowly faded the closer they got.
because the river was beautiful today.
clear water slipped over smooth black rocks covered in glowing green algae, the current carrying floating seeds and tiny lights downstream. fish darted beneath the surface in silver flashes. the stones beneath the water looked polished by eywa herself.
her ears lifted slightly.
without thinking, she crouched near the riverbank.
“…look at these,” she murmured.
kxan groaned dramatically behind her.
“they are rocks.”
“they shine.”
“still rocks.”
she ignored him completely, reaching toward the water. cool river current brushed over her fingers as she picked up a smooth stone streaked with pale blue minerals.
behind her, kxan crouched too close.
“ne’geza,” he whispered irritatingly.
she ignored him.
a tug suddenly pulled at the end of one of her braids.
her ears twitched sharply.
“kxaaan.”
another tug.
harder this time.
her tail lashed.
“stop.”
he snorted behind her.
then came a third pull.
that did it.
with a frustrated sound, ne’geza spun immediately and grabbed for the offending braids without looking.
her fingers closed tightly around several beaded strands.
not kxan’s.
different texture.
thicker.
longer.
her entire body froze.
because the boy she had grabbed was not grinning.
not laughing.
not kxan.
definitely not kxan.
a younger boy stared at her with wide golden eyes, utterly caught off guard, several braids trapped tightly in her fist.
silence.
pure, horrible silence.
even the river suddenly sounded too loud.
the boy blinked once.
his ears lowered slightly from surprise more than anger, tail going still behind him.
ne’geza’s own expression drained instantly.
she released him so fast it almost looked painful.
behind her, kxan made a strangled noise.
then leaned toward her shoulder carefully.
“…that,” he whispered with immense delight and horror all at once, “is toruk makto’s son.”
ne’geza nearly stopped breathing.
her ears flattened so quickly against her head they almost disappeared into her braids.
oh no.
oh eywa no.
the child in front of her rubbed the spot near his braids slowly, still looking more startled than upset. he was taller than her by a little despite being young, lean already in the way forest hunters often became. there was something unmistakable in his face too—the shape of his eyes resembling neytiri, while the calmer expression mirrored jake sully strangely.
neteyam.
she knew immediately.
everyone knew the olo’eyktan’s eldest son.
“i—” ne’geza swallowed hard. “i am sorry.”
neteyam blinked again.
her tail curled anxiously around her ankle.
“i thought— i thought you were him—”
she pointed furiously toward kxan without taking her eyes off neteyam.
kxan immediately lifted both hands.
“not my fault.”
“you pulled my hair first!”
“because your face looked funny looking at rocks!”
neteyam’s ears twitched upward slightly.
a laugh.
small.
barely there.
but there.
ne’geza stared at him in disbelief.
his expression softened almost immediately after, polite in a way many omatikaya children were not.
“it is alright,” he said quietly.
his voice surprised her.
gentle.
steady.
not offended.
if anything, he looked like he was trying not to smile at the situation.
“you grabbed hard, though,” he added after a moment, rubbing his scalp again.
kxan burst into loud laughter.
ne’geza whipped around.
“i will kill you.”
“you almost killed him first!”
“kxan!”
neteyam laughed properly this time.
soft, breathy, surprised out of him more than intentional.
and somehow that made ne’geza even more embarrassed.
her ears flattened impossibly lower while she glared holes through the ground itself.
neteyam noticed.
his tail swayed once behind him.
“…i have had worse happen during training,” he admitted carefully, trying—very obviously—to make her feel less ashamed.
which somehow only made her more ashamed.
because he was being nice.
and she had nearly scalped toruk makto’s son beside a river over shiny rocks.
and with that, years passed.
quietly.
suddenly.
one moment they were children wrestling in the dirt beside roots larger than their bodies, and the next they were taller, leaner, voices softer around certain people.
ne’geza never truly escaped that day by the river.
because from the moment she accidentally grabbed neteyam’s braids and watched him laugh instead of grow angry—
something inside her remained there.
small at first.
then unbearable.
she followed him everywhere after that.
not in secret.
never subtle.
everyone knew.
if neteyam trained with the older boys, ne’geza appeared nearby carrying extra arrows before he could ask. if he returned from scouting, she was somehow there already waiting with water or questions or excitement bright enough to rival the bioluminescence around them.
if he spoke, she listened like eywa herself had opened her mouth.
and neteyam…
neteyam never pushed her away.
that was the worst part.
or perhaps the best.
kxan thought it was pathetic either way.
“you are stupid,” he informed her one afternoon while helping clean fish beside the river.
ne’geza flicked water into his face without looking away from the beads she was threading carefully together.
“and you are an idiot.”
“he barely notices.”
her fingers paused slightly.
kxan saw it immediately.
his ears tilted back a little softer despite his mocking tone.
“ne’geza,” he muttered. “he is olo’eyktan’s son. he is busy all the time.”
“i know.”
“then stop staring at him like a dying hexapede every time he smiles at you.”
she shoved him hard enough that he nearly slipped into the water.
he barked laughter instantly.
“see? that face! exactly that face!”
but the truth was… neteyam did notice.
he noticed when she waited for him after lessons.
noticed when she began learning healing techniques from older women despite originally preferring hunting paths like her parents.
noticed how hard she tried around his family.
especially around neytiri.
ne’geza admired her almost painfully.
she memorized the older woman’s movements during tsaheylu ceremonies, the precision of her prayers, the way she prepared herbs, the softness in her voice whenever speaking of eywa.
she wanted to become worthy of standing beside neteyam one day.
not merely as a hunter.
but as something sacred.
something needed.
sometimes, late at night, she imagined herself beside him in the future.
neteyam as olo’eyktan, strong and calm beneath ceremonial paint while she stood beside him as tsahìk, guiding prayers beneath the glowing tree of voices.
young dreams.
innocent ones.
yet they rooted deeply inside her chest.
neteyam never laughed at her.
that mattered more than anything.
once, after she spent nearly an hour helping kiri prepare medicines despite slicing her own finger twice from distraction, neteyam quietly handed her a clean cloth.
“you do not have to force yourself so hard.”
ne’geza looked up immediately.
“i am not forcing.”
he tilted his head slightly.
she was terrible at lying.
“…maybe a little.”
his mouth curved faintly.
“mother already likes you.”
her ears nearly shot upward.
“she does?”
“yes.”
“really?”
“really.”
“did she say that?”
“not in those words.”
“neteyam.”
he laughed softly when she shoved his shoulder.
small moments like that ruined her completely.
because neteyam was gentle by nature.
steady.
responsible.
he carried expectations heavier than most people understood, yet somehow still made space for others carefully, intentionally. especially his siblings.
especially her.
lo’ak, unfortunately, found the entire thing hilarious.
“there she is,” he would announce dramatically whenever ne’geza approached. “brother, your shadow has returned.”
“lo’ak,” neteyam sighed every single time.
“what? i speak truth.”
“i am right here,” ne’geza hissed.
“yes. exactly my point.”
kiri only smirked quietly nearby while tuk asked loudly if they were going to mate one day.
ne’geza nearly died.
neteyam choked on air.
lo’ak screamed laughing.
but the humans took longer.
much longer.
her father’s distrust had been carved into her carefully since childhood.
sky people destroy.
sky people lie.
sky people take.
even after peace settled more comfortably between clans and the scientists living among them, ne’geza kept her distance instinctively.
the laboratory smelled wrong.
too clean.
too artificial.
the lights buzzed strangely overhead.
every instinct in her body told her to leave.
yet the sully children moved through the space easily now. casually. kiri especially adored learning there, and neteyam often helped transport supplies or messages between camps.
eventually...
after enough invitations,
ne’geza began following too.
cautiously.
always cautious.
norm was patient with her.
so was max.
they never touched without permission. never raised voices. never mocked her discomfort when she stood stiffly near equipment with her ears pinned warily backward.
slowly, painfully slowly, she learned.
human words.
human expressions.
human games.
she still distrusted them.
perhaps always would.
but she trusted the sullys.
and that trust stretched further than fear.
“okay,” norm announced excitedly one evening. “this one is interesting.”
the younger sullys immediately crowded around him.
lo’ak nearly knocked over a chair trying to lean closer.
“what now?”
“a visual reconstruction program,” norm explained proudly. “hypothetical human appearances based on skeletal structures, facial proportions, genetic assumptions—”
“boring already,” lo’ak groaned.
“it means,” kiri interrupted patiently, “seeing what we might look like as humans.”
that got attention immediately.
lo’ak’s ears lifted.
tuk gasped.
even neteyam looked curious.
ne’geza looked horrified.
“why would i want to see that?”
“because it is funny,” lo’ak answered instantly.
“because it is fascinating,” kiri corrected.
norm grinned toward ne’geza.
“come on. just once.”
she almost refused.
almost.
but then neteyam glanced toward her.
not pushing.
never pushing.
just quietly hopeful.
and eywa help her, ne’geza had never denied him anything in her life.
“…fine.”
lo’ak looked triumphant.
“she only agreed because neteyam looked at her.”
“i will throw you into the ocean.”
“see? love.”
“lo’ak.”
neteyam’s warning tone barely hid amusement.
the scans took time.
norm moved around excitedly explaining things half nobody understood while glowing screens reflected across the room.
eventually, a projection flickered alive first.
neteyam.
the room quieted slightly.
human neteyam stared back at them from blue holographic light—darker skin, thick dark curls pulled loosely back, broad shoulders already forming despite youth. his eyes remained unmistakably his somehow. calm. warm. observant.
softer without the sharper na’vi angles.
yet still neteyam.
ne’geza forgot humans were supposed to unsettle her.
because something in her chest softened painfully instead.
oh.
´oh, he is beautiful.´
she did not say it aloud.
could not.
but her stare lingered too long.
curious.
captivated.
neteyam noticed immediately.
of course he did.
his ears twitched slightly while glancing toward her.
“strange,” he murmured.
“you look old,” lo’ak declared.
“you look exactly the same amount of ugly,” kiri replied.
norm laughed somewhere behind them.
“honestly, based on our observations? omatikaya features would probably translate across a spectrum between darker-skinned human ethnicities. african, indigenous, mixed variations maybe. but it is all theoretical.”
ne’geza barely heard him.
she was still staring at neteyam’s projection quietly.
different.
yet not.
then norm brightened suddenly.
“alright. next.”
before ne’geza could prepare herself—
her projection appeared.
neteyam saw it first.
his expression changed immediately.
not dramatically.
that was never neteyam.
but his posture stilled.
eyes widening just slightly.
ne’geza turned nervously.
and froze.
a human girl stared back at her.
brown skin.
dark eyes.
long braided curls falling over human shoulders.
still recognizable somehow. still carrying her expressions, her mouth, her gaze.
just… different.
human.
the room went strangely quiet for half a second.
then lo’ak snorted.
“you still look angry.”
everyone laughed.
even ne’geza a little.
but when she glanced back toward neteyam—
he was still looking at the projection.
very softly.
very quietly.
like he was trying to understand something.
and for once in her life,
ne’geza became shy first.
when they were younger, ne’geza’s devotion had not been subtle at all.
children rarely knew how to hide the things they loved.
and neteyam—
neteyam had always been loved carefully by many people within the clan.
respected.
admired.
protected.
but not like this.
not with the blind little fierceness ne’geza carried in her tiny body.
because while older omatikaya had slowly learned to accept the sully children fully, not every child inherited that maturity immediately.
and children repeated what they heard.
sometimes without understanding cruelty.
sometimes understanding it perfectly.
it happened most often when adults were far enough not to hear.
“half-blood.”
“demon blood.”
“sky person child.”
the words were usually muttered more toward lo’ak, sometimes kiri despite her not even being jake’s daughter by blood, but there had been moments—quieter, uglier moments—directed toward neteyam too.
because his hands were slightly different.
because his eyes looked more human sometimes.
because some children were cruel simply because they could be.
neteyam never reacted strongly.
even young, he carried himself with that same restrained patience. jaw tight. ears lowered slightly. pretending the words slid off him harmlessly.
they never did.
ne’geza noticed every single time.
once, when they could not have been older than eight or nine cycles, she heard older boys laughing near the training grounds while neteyam collected arrows quietly by himself.
“maybe he cannot shoot properly because one eye belongs to a sky person.”
the others snickered.
neteyam’s shoulders stiffened only slightly.
only slightly.
but ne’geza saw it.
and eywa help anyone after that.
she launched herself at the speaker before thinking at all.
a tiny blue blur of rage.
the boy yelped as she slammed into him hard enough to send both tumbling into the dirt.
screaming followed immediately.
hers.
mostly hers.
“say it again!” she snarled, ears flattened violently against her head. “say it again!”
the older boy tried shoving her off in complete disbelief.
“she is crazy!”
“i will bite you!”
“ne’geza!” kxan shouted somewhere nearby, already laughing hysterically while absolutely not helping.
the other children backed away immediately.
because ne’geza genuinely looked willing to kill somebody over this.
tiny fangs bared.
tail lashing furiously.
hands tangled into the other child’s braid while she hissed insults so aggressively even nearby adults turned toward the noise.
neteyam grabbed her eventually.
barely.
“ne’geza,” he said breathlessly, trying to pull her backward while she still attempted clawing at the other boy. “stop.”
“he insulted you!”
“you are making it worse!”
“i do not care!”
she meant it too.
completely.
utterly.
her chest heaved violently while she glared over neteyam’s arm like some furious little forest creature.
the other child scrambled away immediately once freed.
neteyam looked exhausted already.
“you cannot attack everyone.”
“watch me.”
his ears twitched upward despite himself.
because even angry, even terrifying,
she had done it for him.
again.
later, after both received scolding from adults, ne’geza sat beside him high in the trees with swollen pride still burning hot in her chest.
“you should have let me finish.”
neteyam sighed dramatically beside her.
“you nearly broke his nose.”
“good.”
“ne’geza.”
“he was wrong.”
quiet settled between them.
wind moved gently through the leaves overhead.
finally, neteyam spoke quieter.
“…thank you.”
that was all.
simple.
honest.
but ne’geza’s entire expression softened immediately.
because that was enough.
always enough.
from then onward, it became almost expected.
if someone mocked kiri for being strange, ne’geza snapped back immediately.
if lo’ak got into fights, she joined without hesitation.
but when it came to neteyam—
it was different.
more personal.
more instinctive.
she watched him constantly when they were children.
made sure nobody excluded him during games.
sat beside him during meals without fail.
brought him things she thought he might like—polished stones, colorful feathers, carved wooden charms she made badly herself.
once she even cried because another little girl announced loudly she wanted to become neteyam’s future mate.
kxan laughed so hard he fell from a branch.
neteyam, horrified and confused, spent nearly twenty minutes trying to understand why ne’geza suddenly refused to speak to him.
it only became less obvious as they aged because she learned restraint slowly.
learned embarrassment.
learned longing.
but when they were small—
everyone knew.
especially neteyam.
by fourteen and fifteen cycles, things had changed quietly between them all.
not disappeared.
never that.
just… deepened.
their limbs had lengthened, voices softened into maturity, movements sharpened from childhood clumsiness into something more graceful. even their silences carried meaning now.
especially between ne’geza and neteyam.
because as children, devotion had been loud.
at fifteen,
it became sacred.
“you will return before eclipse meal,” sa’eyla called from behind her.
ne’geza barely slowed while tying her satchel over one shoulder.
“yes, mother.”
“that was not agreement. that was escape.”
her father snorted from nearby where he repaired arrow fletching.
“if she vanishes with the sully boy again, she will forget food exists entirely.”
“father.”
yet her ears warmed faintly.
both parents noticed immediately.
sa’eyla’s mouth twitched upward.
“take this.”
a small woven pouch was tossed toward her.
ne’geza caught it carefully, blinking down at the contents inside—dried fruits sweetened lightly with nectar.
her favorites.
“you made these?”
“you forget to eat when distracted,” her mother answered simply.
which meant yes.
ne’geza softened instantly.
she crossed back briefly, pressing her forehead gently against sa’eyla’s shoulder before doing the same to her father.
“i will return before eclipse.”
“alive preferably,” tsmukan added dryly.
“no promises.”
training beneath the tsahìk had become the center of ne’geza’s life by then.
not because anyone forced her.
because she wanted it with all her heart.
the older she grew, the more seriously she devoted herself to the path. she learned chants until her throat ached, memorized herbs by scent alone, practiced spiritual connections beneath glowing trees until dawn touched the forest canopy gold.
mo’at herself had begun noticing her progress.
and neytiri…
neytiri had begun treating her differently too.
less like one of the children endlessly following her son around.
more carefully.
more knowingly.
one evening, after a long hunt and longer training beneath humid forest heat, ne’geza sat stiffly inside the sully family marui while tuk braided flowers nearby.
jake had apparently brought some kind of human skin cream months ago from the scientists.
neytiri remained suspicious of it.
but curious enough to keep it.
“hold still,” neytiri muttered.
ne’geza obeyed immediately.
though cautiously.
very cautiously.
“what is it?”
“for dry skin.”
“…from humans?”
“yes.”
that answer alone made ne’geza’s ears flatten uncertainly.
lo’ak burst into laughter from somewhere behind them.
“look at her face!”
“quiet,” neytiri warned absentmindedly.
cool cream brushed against ne’geza’s cheek carefully.
she flinched.
all the sully children laughed this time.
even kiri.
“it feels strange,” ne’geza complained quietly, eyes squeezing shut while neytiri spread more across her forehead. "why is it moist."
“because your skin is damaged from sun exposure,” neytiri replied.
another dab against her nose.
ne’geza’s ears lowered further in surrender.
tuk giggled loudly.
“you look like a grumpy baby.”
“i will throw you.”
“mother!”
neytiri ignored all of them calmly while smoothing the cream beneath ne’geza’s eyes with surprising gentleness.
neteyam entered midway through it all.
and stopped immediately.
his gaze landed on ne’geza sitting there utterly defeated beneath his mother’s hands, eyes closed obediently while white cream dotted her face.
his mouth twitched upward instantly.
ne’geza opened one eye.
saw him smiling.
and nearly died.
“do not look at me.”
“you look fine.”
“you are lying.”
“a little.”
his smile widened just enough to ruin her entire evening.
and kxan remained unbearable, in the other hand.
that never changed.
he still stole things from her satchel.
still yanked lightly on the end of her braid while passing.
still shoved her shoulder during arguments purely to irritate her.
except now—
they were older.
and older meant awareness settled strangely into the spaces between people.
sometimes ne’geza would catch him staring at her too long before he looked away first.
sometimes his teasing became quieter whenever neteyam stood nearby.
sometimes his laughter faded into something unreadable while watching her gaze follow the olo’eyktan’s eldest son without realizing it herself.
he never said anything.
not truly.
only once.
they sat together high above the forest after patrol, shoulders brushing against bark while bioluminescent insects drifted below them.
ne’geza spoke endlessly about tsahìk teachings while restringing beads absentmindedly.
kxan watched her quietly for a long moment.
“…you really love him.”
she blinked.
as if the statement confused her.
“of course i do.”
so simple.
so immediate.
it hurt him a little.
he laughed afterward anyway.
“idiot.”
she kicked his leg.
he deserved worse.
but neteyam and ne’geza never confessed anything.
there had been no grand moment.
no promises whispered beneath eywa.
yet everyone around them could feel it growing heavier with age.
neteyam sought her instinctively now.
during clan meetings, his eyes searched crowds for her first.
during hunts, he checked whether she returned safely before resting himself.
when she trained late beneath the tsahìk, he waited nearby under the excuse of escorting her home through the forest at night.
their hands brushed more often now.
lingering accidentally.
or perhaps not accidentally at all.
sometimes she caught him staring too.
softly.
thoughtfully.
like he was trying to solve something impossible.
and neteyam—
neteyam never denied her place beside him.
not once.
during one ceremonial gathering, an older woman teased lightly about future mates while glancing knowingly between them.
ne’geza stopped breathing.
neteyam only smiled faintly and lowered his gaze without correcting her.
that alone kept ne’geza awake for half the night afterward.
because in omatikaya culture—
not denying something meant everything.
there had even begun quiet preparation discussions regarding the future.
nothing official.
nothing announced.
but everyone understood someday neteyam would become olo’eyktan after jake sully.
and somewhere within those same whispers, ne’geza’s name appeared too now.
the promising tsahìk apprentice.
the devoted daughter of honored warriors.
the girl forever at neteyam’s side.
it felt inevitable.
like roots intertwining beneath soil long before anyone noticed the trees above had already grown together.
and perhaps that was why the coming disaster hurt so badly.
because right before everything shattered,
they had finally begun looking like a future.
but an attack came with fire again.
just like it always did.
the sky split apart beneath roaring engines, smoke poisoning the clean air of the forest while screams echoed between trees that had stood for generations. the people of the sky returned louder, crueler, hungrier than before.
and with them came fear.
real fear.
not the distant stories ne’geza remembered from childhood.
something alive now.
something breathing down the neck of the clan.
the omatikaya changed after that.
war returned to every conversation.
hunters sharpened blades later into the night. scouts vanished for days. children were called closer to home. even laughter around communal meals became quieter.
and neteyam—
neteyam carried stress differently than others.
he became calmer.
which somehow made it worse.
because ne’geza knew him well enough now to notice the exhaustion beneath it.
she found him one evening near the edge of high camp, standing alone high above the forest while distant smoke stained the horizon dark.
his posture remained straight.
responsible.
always responsible.
but his ears lowered slightly when she approached.
“you should rest,” she murmured softly.
“so should you.”
she moved beside him anyway.
close enough that their shoulders nearly touched.
not quite.
never quite.
“mother says the clan is frightened,” she admitted quietly.
“they are.”
“are you?”
neteyam looked outward for a long moment before answering.
“…yes.”
honest.
always honest with her.
that frightened her more than the flames ever could.
the decision shattered everything afterward.
she learned of it accidentally.
voices inside the sully family marui carried louder than intended one night, tense enough that even the forest itself felt uneasy around them.
leave.
the word echoed painfully inside her skull.
leave the clan.
leave the forest.
leave to protect everyone else.
ne’geza stood frozen outside the woven entrance listening to overlapping voices—lo’ak protesting loudly, tuk crying softly somewhere, kiri speaking too quietly to understand.
then jake sully’s voice.
firm.
final.
“we cannot risk the people.”
silence afterward.
horrible silence.
ne’geza stumbled backward before anyone noticed her there.
her breathing turned uneven immediately.
no.
they could not leave.
neteyam could not leave.
her entire body shook by the time she reached home.
sa’eyla rose instantly at the sight of her daughter’s expression.
“what happened?”
“they are leaving.”
her voice cracked apart embarrassingly.
“the sullys are leaving.”
both parents went still.
tsmukan’s face darkened immediately with understanding.
of course he already suspected.
warriors always knew before others did.
“ne’geza—”
“I am going with them.”
the words came too quickly.
desperate.
immediate.
her mother stared at her.
“no.”
“please.”
“absolutely not.”
“mother—”
“you are omatikaya.”
“so are they!”
“they are leaving because they are targets!”
“then they should not go alone!”
her voice broke completely this time.
ears flattening hard against her braids while tears burned painfully behind her eyes.
tsmukan stood slowly.
“enough.”
the single word cut through her immediately.
rare.
dangerous.
her father almost never raised his voice.
“you will calm yourself.”
“father—”
“you think love makes you foolish enough to abandon your clan during war?”
silence.
horrible silence.
because nobody had ever said it aloud before.
love.
ne’geza froze completely.
her father’s expression softened only slightly afterward.
not unkind.
just firm.
“you are fifteen,” he said more quietly. “and hurting. but your place is here.”
tears slipped down her face instantly.
humiliating.
uncontrollable.
“what if they die?”
sa’eyla crossed the space immediately then, taking her daughter’s face carefully between both hands.
their foreheads pressed together gently.
“do not borrow grief before eywa places it in your hands.”
ne’geza cried harder anyway.
the ceremony appointing the new olo’eyktan felt unbearable.
formal.
sacred.
wrong.
tarsem stepped forward beneath solemn chants while leadership passed away from jake before the clan. nobody protested openly.
everyone understood why it had to happen.
that did not make it hurt less.
the entire time, ne’geza could barely breathe properly.
because neteyam stood there among his family already looking halfway gone.
she memorized everything desperately.
the paint across his skin.
the beads in his braids.
the quiet exhaustion hidden behind composure.
she hated herself for memorizing him like someone already mourning.
afterward, chaos moved quickly.
preparations.
goodbyes.
supplies being gathered.
people pretending not to stare.
ne’geza spent most of it numb until she finally found herself standing before the sully family while eclipse painted the forest dark blue.
tuk hugged her first.
crying immediately.
kiri held her tightly afterward too, quieter but no less emotional.
even lo’ak looked miserable beneath forced sarcasm.
“try not to become more annoying while we are gone.”
she shoved him weakly.
then came neteyam.
and suddenly everything inside her chest became unbearable again.
he stood close.
too close.
but not close enough.
his eyes searched her face carefully.
“…you heard.”
she nodded once.
could not trust her voice.
neteyam looked like he wanted to say more.
instead, he reached forward slowly and adjusted one of the beads hanging loose near her braid—fingers brushing her skin so lightly it nearly undid her completely.
“we will come back,” he promised softly.
ne’geza swallowed painfully.
“you do not know that.”
“i do.”
“neteyam—”
her voice cracked again.
his ears lowered immediately at the sound.
behind them, neytiri watched silently with an expression too knowing for comfort.
finally, jake stepped forward too.
“you can visit,” he said gently. “when things settle. if your parents allow it.”
kiri nodded quickly.
“or send messages.”
“send food,” lo’ak added instantly.
“send literally anything except your attitude,” kiri shot back.
the tiny argument softened the tension just enough for ne’geza to breathe again.
slightly.
only slightly.
because the idea of still reaching them somehow—
still existing within their lives—
felt like someone placing trembling hands around the pieces of her heart before they shattered entirely.
she nodded shakily.
“i will.”
then finally—
finally—
she looked directly at neteyam again.
there were a thousand things trapped inside her throat—
none of them escaped.
because neteyam already looked at her like he understood anyway.
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