a/n: Thank you for all the love and support! If you would like to make any suggestions for any additional fics, I am open to them! And if you would like to be tagged in future parts of this one, let me know!
Summary: Quaritch and Y/N do some training!
wc: 1k
Quaritch is going stir-crazy, and luckily, he's finally healthy again. Feeling more like himself, yet the muscles in his body grew weak from months of rest.
Y/N watches him in the mornings and he works out. At first, it was because she feared he was hurting himself, but now she knows that's not the case. "Why do you do this every day?"
Quaritch looks at the ground, "Because one day I won't have a choice..."
“Choice?” She doesn't understand. Why wouldn’t he have a choice whether to fight? If Y/N had anything, it was her will.
"You don't get to pick when the fight comes.”
She ponders his statement a bit. She never knew fighting. She never even learned to hunt with her people before she had been cast out. She never saw the need. Her words escaped her before she even thought them through, "Will you teach me?"
Quaritch laughs, "You?"
"Yes?” She's almost offended by his question.
"Kid, you don't even like holdin' my knife." He smirks and walks toward her.
She meets his gaze with confidence, "I still wish to learn."
"...Why?" He looks at her confusion filling his eyes, wondering what the catch is.
"You entered my world," She gestures at the forest around them. "You learned my plants," She points to the garden to their right. "My animals," now looking past Quaritch to Kawng sleeping behind him. "My language… my life,” she looks down. "I wish to learn yours."
Quaritch looks at her, really looks. Seeing her soul this time. Nobody had ever wanted to enter his world. He was floored. Silence hung in the air as thick as the fog.
… meer hours later …
He tried to show her stance by modeling his own. It felt unnatural to her.
Breathing slowly and deliberately. That she picked up easily, it was already second nature.
Next was learning the safety of the gun. Aiming. Shooting? She hated it. Every gunshot makes her flinch. After several attempts, she hands the gun back in defeat. "I do not like this."
He smirks, "Told ya."
She holds up a finger, "It is loud."
"Yep."
Now a 2nd, "It smells."
"Yep."
3rd, "It hurts my ears."
"Yep."
She raises her hands in confusion, "...Humans choose this?"
"Pretty much," he smiles at her.
She shakes her head, letting her hands fall to her sides, "You are strange."
"Been hearin' that a lot." He scoffs and gathers a set of knives he carved a few days prior.
He tosses her one, and she catches it awkwardly; it almost slips from her grasp altogether.
"No," she says as she examines the blade, pricking her finger at the tip.
"What?" He questions as she flips the blade, almost cutting her own fingers. "You're holdin' it backward," he reaches out for the blade halfheartedly.
She turned so he couldn't grab the blade from her, "I knew that."
"No, you didn't."
"I absolutely did."
He closes the distance between them. She could feel the warmth of his skin before he gently wrapped his hand around hers. "No,” she protested.
"Watch,” he said, not moving his hand in the slightest. His thumb adjusts her grip. His fingers move hers slightly, "There."
Only the sound of their breathing passed between them. Quaritch clears his throat and steps away. "Throw," he commands, pointing to the already made target on the farthest tree.
She throws the knife, pinching the blade rather than holding the hilt. Against his advice, of course, yet it feels right. *Thunk*
She hits the bullseye on the first try. "...Hell."
"What?" She looks at him, concerned that she did something wrong.
He claps slowly, "You've got good aim."
"I do?" Smiling proudly, she grabs another knife, "Again?"
"Again."
The problem is… She can't throw hard. The knife barely sticks into the tree, certainly not enough to seriously wound an enemy.
Quaritch walks over to the knife and pulls it out while examining the tree. He looks back at her, "You ever lifted anything heavier than mushrooms?"
She crosses her arms, "I carried you."
"...Fair," he laughs as he shakes his head. Placing both hands on his hips, he looks at Y/N, “Drop and give me 20.”
“Drop…” She gives him a strange, confused look. “20 what?”
“Push-ups,” he says it as if she should know what this means. She says nothing; he receives only a blank stare. He huffs and begins to show her what he means, performing 10 with no problem, even in his condition. She recognizes the maneuver as a part of his morning routine.
She knows she can do this. He made it look easy enough; 20 would be no problem. As she gets into position, she realizes it may not be as easy as she thought. One! She grunts. Two! Her arms begin to shake. Three! She collapses dramatically.
He laughs. Belly laughs.
"Oh, don't you start." She points at him from the ground, "I have carried you."
He laughs again, "Barely."
"You were very heavy."
"You mention that every chance you get,” he rolls his eyes.
"Because it is true,” she gets up, wiping the dirt from her knees.
She decides to go back to throwing her knives. She begins missing her targets after a few throws. Quaritch walks up behind her slowly to adjust her stance. He places both hands on her shoulders and shifts them slightly. His hands linger for a moment as he breathes in the scent of her hair. He then places his hand on her back to urge her to fix her posture. As his hand leaves her body, she finally remembers to exhale.
She turns around to face him, forgetting the question she was about to ask. They're suddenly… Very close. She didn't intend it… But she wasn’t against it. His presence brought her a comfort she had never experienced before. Her parents died at an early age, she had never made any friends, and her people feared her. This man… This man did not fear her. Instead of dismissing her ways, he questioned them. He gave her a consideration she had otherwise never known… She felt a sense of connection and began to gaze upon his lips…
He looks back at hers.
Her chest rises and falls in the same rhythm as his. She looks into his big yellow eyes and…
Kawng sneezes.
Both jump apart immediately.
Miles clears his throat, "...Again."
"...Again." Y/N turns back and throws the knife at the target.
Neither meets the other's eyes for the rest of the training…
a/n: Sorry, I'm late for this chapter, and it's a bit smaller. I had some family issues come up, but hopefully I'll be back to normal soon.
Summary: The daily life of our favorite couple.
wc: 700
Weeks had passed since Quaritch's little… mishap. During that time, he began to get used to Y/N's patterns and routines. The way she would wake him up peacefully each morning. Now he was familiar with her beautiful songs. He didn't know the words, yet he still had preferences for them that he would never say. In fact, he pretends not to hear them or acknowledge the peace the sounds bring him. He won't even acknowledge how he's attuned to which melodies are sung depending on her mood.
He began to feel guilty. Guilty of sitting around. ‘Healing,’ as she would say. But he wanted to be of use. He had never felt unneeded, "I Ain't Useless," he finally stated as he watched her gather wood for the fire.
She smiled at him and nodded dismissively as she piled what she found.
He started to get up, "You got anything useful I can do?"
She pauses, looking at his staggering frame, glancing over all of his healing injuries, "No."
Quaritch stares, "No?"
"No."
"Lady, I wasn't askin' for a promotion."
After a long moment, she looks around and gestures to the water. Carrying water? He thought. That's it? At least she finally gave him a task. Easy. She had already filled the bucket, and now all he needed to do was get across her property and over to the garden.
The garden was beautiful, filled with every equivalent of fruit and vegetable he knew of in the area, and some he had never seen. The colors were astounding. There was one she introduced to him that had now become his favorite. It was orange with purple spikes and a gooey green inside. He could never remember its name. No matter how many times she told him.
He limps over to the bucket with full confidence that he can accomplish this task. He leans forward to grab the handle, pushing through the sharp pangs of warning coming from his ribs. As he lifts the bucket, his hope and pride falters. Y/N finds him sitting in the grass, glaring at the bucket.
She giggles with her hand above her mouth in a poor attempt to conceal it.
He points at her, "Don't."
Now, not trying to hide it anymore, she laughs wholeheartedly.
… a couple of days pass …
Y/N wanted Quaritch to move around and keep his mind busy. She knew he just wanted to contribute, and she didn't want to hold him back. She found it sweet. But she hadn't seen injuries that extensive since she was a part of the clan. So she began to teach him the names of plants as he followed her throughout the garden. He always got every name wrong. Which amused her a bit.
"That one?" He asks, pointing at his favorite fruit.
"Tawrey."
"Taw-rain." He hesitated.
"No." She spoke more slowly, "Taw-ray."
“Taw-ree”
“No”
"Hell with it," he throws up his hands in defeat.
She giggles a bit, and his ears flatten in disappointment, "You enjoyin' this?"
"Maybe…” she smirks up at him. Their eyes meet for a moment before Quaritch turns away. Her bioluminescence gets brighter when she laughs, Miles noticed that a while ago. He actually began to notice everything. In a way he never had for another person before. He never took the time to care about the patterns of those closest to him. The way her eyes glow more when she's happy, the little smile she tries to hide, the fact she likes to talk to plants, the way she absentmindedly touches his arm when she's thinking… As he thinks about these things, he begins to smile to himself…
… a day later …
Y/N is grinding herbs, and Quaritch is carving wood. Neither of them had been talking, just existing. That's when Miles realizes how happy he is. Truly happy. In a way that almost scares him. He had never known peace; he never thought he would. He almost felt guilty for it. Not because he's healed, not because it's easy, not because he understands this life, but because when he wakes up now… he looks forward to the sound of her humming…
a/n: This is my favorite part so far! I will release part 4 Wednesday night.
Summary: Quaritch tries to escape...
wc: 2k
Warnings: Blood/Injury
Miles awoke before the forest did, or at least, before the hut began making its usual strange sounds. Not the sound of grinding stone or Y/N’s strange humming tunes, nor her soft footsteps moving from plant to plant. Not the green-eyed woman telling him to lie back down like he was one of her injured pets.
His good eye opened slowly. The room was dim, the fire burned low, and the air still carried that bitter mix of medicine and poison. For a long moment, he didn't move; he only listened.
After a long moment, he came to the conclusion that Y/N was gone. Miles exhaled sharply through his nose. “Well,” he spoke softly to himself, “ain’t that convenient...”
Carefully, he shifted his weight, testing the waters of his sore body. Pain sparked through his ribs and shoulder, but it wasn't the blinding agony from before. He could move. Not well, not fast, but enough, and enough was all he needed. He pushed himself upright, jaw clenched hard enough to ache. It was as if the hut tilted and his vision blurred. He sat there breathing through it for a few seconds, refusing to fall back like his body wanted. When the world finally steadied, his eye swept the room. With his one good eye, he scanned the room for exits, finding only one.
…Then he saw them… his weapons! Jackpot, he thought. They hadn't been hidden in the slightest. Just set aside near the far wall, cleaned of mud and blood, placed with irritating neatness beside pieces of damaged armor. His knife was there as well as his sidearm. She probably had no idea what half of them were, let alone how to use them.
Miles stared at the weapons, smiling, “Now that,” he murmured, “is a mistake.”
Getting to them was ugly and painful. By the time he crossed the room, sweat had dampened the back of his neck, and his side throbbed beneath the bandages. He ignored it. Pain wasn’t going to stop him, never had, never will. He strapped on what he could. The knife felt right in his hand, familiar and grounding. His pistol was heavier than he remembered, but it made him feel more like himself.
He glanced once toward the entrance. No sign of Y/N. No sign of Kawng. So there's no one to stop him.
Miles limped out of the hut and into the clearing as the morning light spilled through the trees. The forest that surrounded Y/N's home glowed in strange places; there were bright flowers tucked between roots and soft green fungi clinging to bark. Most concerningly, something chittered somewhere nearby. He didn't like it; the whole place felt watched.
He looked toward the widest path leading away from the clearing and started walking towards it as each step ripped and tore at his wounds. He was swollen and weak, although he would never admit it to himself. He pushed through the pain as a soldier would; he would survive, as a soldier would. A soldier did not lie helpless in a witch’s hut waiting for a glowing forest native to decide what came next.
In the distance, Y/N watched Quaritch without his knowledge. She was silent and still. Her satchel hung at her hip, and her neon-green eyes followed every uneven step Miles took through the undergrowth. She knew he would leave, of course she knew. She was a healer at her core and knew that those who are wounded did one of 2 things. They either tried to flee or hide. Miles did not seem like the hiding type.
Y/N waited until he disappeared past the first wall of trees before she followed him. She wasn't close enough for him to hear or see. He moved badly, too much weight put on one side of his body. Too much pride in each step he took. Every few minutes, he stopped, pretending to study the forest while really giving himself time to catch his breath.
Y/N almost smiled… Almost… Then he reached the slope, and her smile disappeared. “Miles,” she whispered, shaking her head, though he was too far to hear.
The ground ahead dipped sharply beneath a curtain of vines. The moss there looked solid from a distance, but Y/N knew better; however, Miles did not. Beneath it was slick stone and loose mud. He pushed through the vines, and his foot slipped. For one brief second, his body tried to correct itself, but then the ground vanished beneath him.
Miles went down… hard.
He slammed onto his side and slid down the slope in a violent rush of mud, leaves, and broken branches. His shoulder slammed into a root. His leg twisted beneath him, and something cracked loudly, echoing throughout the forest.
A roar tore from his throat. Y/N moved instinctually and quickly.
By the time Miles hit the bottom, he couldn't breathe, and pain swallowed everything. His ankle screamed first, sharp and white-hot, then his side, then his chest. Burn blisters across his shoulder, and ribs tore open against dirt and bark, leaving wet fire across his skin. He rolled onto his back, gasping, “God… damn it…”
He tried to sit up, but that was a bad idea… His vision flashed black, and he collapsed back into the mud. For several seconds, he panted, teeth bared, breathing like an animal, unable to move.
Then a low vibration came from the trees. Buzzing… Miles opened his eye, and the sound grew louder. He warily turned his head. A nearby tree had a hollow knot in its side, now cracked from where his shoulder had struck it on the way down. Thick sap seeped from the wound in the bark. From inside the hollow, small glowing bodies began to spill out. They weren't bees. Nothing from earth could ever measure to what was approaching him. “You gotta be kiddin’ me.” Miles stared helplessly. Not a feeling he was familiar with. Not a feeling he ever wanted to be familiar with.
The swarm rose in a pulsing cloud. They were bigger than bees, with translucent wings and needlelike tails that flashed blue at the tips. Dozens poured from the tree. Then hundreds.
He reached for his sidearm, and his hand shook recklessly. The first creature darted toward him. Miles was able to pull out the gun and quickfire. The shot cracked through the forest, and the swarm scattered for half a second. Not long enough for Quaritch to feel relief because when it came back, it came back angrier and fiercer. “Outstanding,” he growled.
He tried to drag himself backward. His broken ankle buckled uselessly, and pain tore through him so brutally that he nearly blacked out for a moment.
The swarm closed in, and when he felt that it had to be over… That’s when Y/N stepped between him and the cloud. Miles completely froze. She moved with maddening calm, pulling a small pouch from her satchel. The insects spiraled toward her, wings shrieking like vibrating glass.
“Down,” she shouted.
Miles blinked. “What?”
“DOWN!”
Miles ducked his head as low as it could go while covering it. Y/N threw the powder into the air, and it burst open in a pale green cloud, and the effect was immediate. The swarm jerked back as if struck by a strong gust of wind. Their glowing bodies scattered in every direction, fleeing the powder as it drifted through the air. Within seconds, the furious buzzing thinned, then faded into the trees.
Silence returned, and Miles stared at the empty air, then at Y/N. “What the hell was that?”
“Powder.”
His eye narrowed. “No kidding.”
She glanced down at him, “Helpful powder. I made it for situations as these.”
He let out a breath that was almost a laugh, then winced hard as pain stabbed through his ribs. Y/N crouched beside him calmly and unsurprised.
“You followed me,” he said.
“Yes.”
“You let me leave?”
“Yes.”
“You knew I’d leave?”
“Yes.”
Miles stared, thinking he shouldn’t be surprised that this woman was all-knowing. “You got any answers longer than one word?”
“Yes.” She laughed in her own head at her answer to this. She hadn't meant to be short in her words; she just had been lonely for a long while. Company was few and far between, often in the form of animals or insects. It had been refreshing to speak with Miles.
He closed his eye for a second. “Cute.”
She examined his ankle. The moment her fingers touched it, he hissed and jerked. “Broken,” she said.
“No, really?” he said with obvious attitude.
She ignored his tone and pressed cloth against his reopened gunshot wound. “You tore this again.”
He rolled his eyes, “Yeah, I was there.”
“The burns too,” she lectured.
“Appreciate the report.” Quaritch was growing annoyed.
“You knocked a hive tree,” she pointed to the neighboring tree.
“Not intentionally...”
Y/N raised an eyebrow, growing confident in her next sentence, “That makes it less stupid?”
He looked at her. She looked back, not knowing whether to mock him or be worried by his reaction.
For a moment, neither moved.
Then Miles gave a humorless little smile. “You always this sweet to your patients?”
“Only the difficult ones.” She shrugged and turned away shyly.
“Lucky me,” he smirked, propping himself up on his good arm.
“Yes,” she said softly. “Lucky you.” That finally seemed to shut him up. Only for a second, though. Y/N sat back on her heels, studying him with those unnatural green eyes. “You may leave whenever you want, Miles.”
He huffed. “Generous.”
“I mean it,” she nodded.
“Could’ve fooled me with the following me part.”
“I did not stop you.”
“No, you just waited until the forest kicked my ass.” Quaritch pointed at her accusingly.
Her mouth twitched, and Miles caught it immediately.
“Don’t you laugh.”
“I am not laughing.” She said before bursting into unstoppable giggling.
Quaritch nudged her playfully, “Real professional.”
“You fell very far,” she laughed as she said it.
“Not my finest tactical maneuver.”
She composed herself before agreeing, “No.”
He scowled, and she beamed; the glow of her freckles seemed to sharpen with it. Miles wanted to stare, but looked away instead.
Y/N’s voice softened, “You can leave. I will not cage you. I will not tie you down. I will not make you stay.”
He glanced back at her. “But…?” he asked.
“But you need me for now.”
The words sat between them; they were true, irritatingly true. Miles hated the truth when it didn't suit him. He looked toward the forest path, then down at his ruined ankle, his bleeding side, the mud coating his body, the weapon still useless in his hand. Then he looked at Y/N.
She waited for him to speak. No smugness or commands. And certainly no pity yet that somehow made it worse.
Finally, he muttered, “You gonna carry me?”
Y/N tilted her head, “I could drag you.”
His eye narrowed, “You wouldn’t.”
“I have before,” she said with pride.
“Yeah, and I was unconscious.”
“You may choose that again if you prefer.”
Despite himself, a rough laugh escaped him. Pain punished him for it immediately.
Y/N sighed and reached for him. “Come. Before you find another tree to offend.”
Miles let her pull his arm over her shoulders. He leaned into her more than he wanted to, and she bore the weight without complaint. For a moment, he was close enough to smell the herbs in her hair, the smoke in her clothes, and something sharp beneath it all, like crushed leaves after rain. It was nice, but he didnt give it much thought beyond that.
He glanced down at her, “You know,” he grunted, “for somebody who says I can leave whenever I want, you sure do spend a lotta time bringing me back.”
Y/N adjusted her grip around his waist, “For someone who wants to leave, you spend much time falling near my home.”
“Smart mouth.” Miles stared ahead, not meeting her gaze.
“Yes.”
They began the slow climb back up the steep slope. Ahead, Y/N’s hut waited in the roots. And for the first time since waking in the forest, Miles did not fight her when she led him home…
a/n: Thank you for all the love and support! It means a lot to me!
Summary: Quaritch awakens to unfamiliar smells, strange medicines, and the unsettling realization that the glowing woman who dragged him out of the forest is real. Though he is too weak to stand, his instincts tell him to escape. But between his injuries, his mysterious caretaker, and the massive thanator watching from outside the doorway, leaving proves easier said than done.
wc: 1.2k
Warnings: Blood/Injury
(There will be smut in future parts, but I will warn you first)
-----------------
The first thing Miles Quaritch noticed when he woke was the smell. It was blood, or smoke, or the smell of his own burnt flesh; it was herbs, and strong ones at that. Some of them he had recognized from his training. He knew that some were medicinal, but he was smart enough to recognize that others were downright dangerous.
He attempted to snap open his eyes, realizing that one was still severely swollen. The room was warm and inviting. He sighed with relief, realizing he was, in fact, still alive. Slowly, his memories of the nights prior returned. The battle, the pain, and most importantly, the woman who saved him. The woman with bright neon-green eyes and the predator lurking outside her dwelling. He groaned softly and tried to sit up, pain exploding through his side as he shifted his weight.
“Sit back down.”
The voice nearly made him jump, and his head snapped toward the sound.
She sat near a fire, back to him, grinding something inside a stone bowl. Her bioluminescent freckles flickered softly beneath the dim light. Her long hair blanketed her back, so wavy, and so long he couldn't see her tsaheylu. Her fingertips were stained black from crushed plants.
Those eyes… Hell… They really did glow… Quaritch stared for longer than he intended. She was taller than most women he'd encountered. Strong shoulders. Curvier than most Na'vi. She was so strange that he wondered if it was wrong to find her beautiful. No, it was wrong - definitely wrong.
“You hear me?” she asked without looking at him.
“Been hearing you,” he grunted.
“Then sit back.”
“I've been shot before, lil lady,” he scoffed and smirked at Y/N.
She glanced over her shoulder with a knowing glare of warning, “You have also nearly died before.”
“Didn't stop me,” he chided.
“No. It did not.” She smirked to herself before looking back at her mixture.
He rolled his eyes, thinking how fitting it was he'd end up in the care of yet another smart mouth.
Quaritch tried to sit up again, which was a bad idea. His vision blurred, and pain ripped through his chest hard enough to make him suck in a sharp breath.
She sighed, getting tired of trying to convince this man that he needed to rest. She wasn't annoyed, just used to animals and people trusting her by this point, or at least surrendering. “You are determined to die,” she was starting to become confused.
“Still deciding,” he retorted.
She tilted her head. She genuinely didn't understand why someone would say such a thing.
“Strange man,” she muttered.
“Been called worse.” Quaritch took a moment to mentally note his situation and surroundings:
-Bones hung from cords overhead.
-Roots dried near the walls.
-Plants he'd never seen.
-Jars.
-Venoms.
-Poisons.
-No weapons.
-One exit.
-No radio.
-No comms.
-Unknown female.
-Large predator.
-No backup.
… Perfect. He'd survived the battle only to wake up in a witch's hut.
He became alert and faced the entrance when he heard scratching coming from outside. The sound was heavy and large, causing his body to tense instinctively. “What in the sam hell is that!?”
Y/N didn't even glance up before answering, “Kawng.”
“Kawng?” Quaritch questioned between scratches, “What the hell is Kawng?”
“My friend.”
“That ain't an answer.”
“It is enough.”
He stared, dumbfounded, “Lady, if you've got some six-legged nightmare scratching outside, I'd appreciate knowing.”
She blinked slowly, then calmly raised her voice. “Kawng. Stop.” Her voice was firm yet gentle. Silence followed immediately, and Quaritch froze.
“Did… that thing just listen to you?”
“Yes.” She stated it as a matter of fact.
He shook his head in disbelief. “That's not normal.” He began to wonder if this was all just a dream, and his thoughts started to wander.
She tilted her head, “You say that often.”
“And I mean it every damn time.”
Outside, something huffed softly. Quaritch didn't dare look, not yet. Y/N rose from the fire and approached. As she got closer, Quaritch’s body betrayed him, tensing, knowing he couldn't fight her even if he tried. Not in this condition. Y/N noticed and put her hands palm up to show she wasn't a threat. He hated that she noticed, and she always seemed to notice…
“Easy,” she said quietly.
“Don't tell me easy.”
“You growl more than Kawng.”
He blinked twice, “Did you just compare me to that thing?”
“Yes,” she confirmed while widening her eyes as if the comparison was an obvious one.
“Not sure how I feel about that.”
“You are both stubborn.”
Despite himself, a quiet snort escaped him, not quite a full laugh, but it was close enough. She sat beside him and began changing his bandages. Her hands were steady and gentle in a way that unnerved him. Nobody had ever touched him like that.
Not since… No… He shoved the thought away.
“Those eyes of yours,” he said suddenly.
She paused, “What of them?”
“They ain't normal.”
Her expression changed, and she closed her eyes for a long moment before answering, “They changed.” The answer pained her as much as it confused the man beside her.
“How?”
“Curiosity.”
“Hell of an answer.”
“Mm.”
“That's it?”
“Yes.” His questioning was bringing up saddening memories of her past life. Past mistakes.
“Curiosity made your eyes glow?”
With a heavy sigh, she repeated herself, “Yes.”
“Lady, that's concerning.”
She looked at him almost in disbelief when she realized this was coming from a man with an extra finger. She held his hand so it was visible to both of them. Caressing it and dragging her finger down the side, “I guess we both are not as you say, normal”
His mouth went agape; he hadn't thought of how he looked from her perspective. But that was fair. “Guess we are a bit strange”
She nodded, and an unfamiliar silence fell between the two of them. It wasn't awkward or uncomfortable. Just unfamiliar, they looked at each other, really looked, never meeting each other's gaze. They peered over each other's bodies, each marking, scar, and every tattered breath.
Eventually, she finished wrapping his side, “You need sleep.”
He rolled his eyes. “Bossy,” he teased.
“You keep ignoring me.” More annoyed now with his lack of listening than actually picking up on the intention of his retorts. “Perhaps this is why you are injured.”
He laughed this time, a real laugh. But the pain quickly reminded him that maybe she had a point. He winced.
She began watering her plants and tending to them as she picked ingredients from their respective vines and leaves. Minutes had passed, maybe hours, as he watched her work. She hummed to herself, a song that he did not know. She spoke softly to the herbs as she caressed them. She was a strange woman, maybe the weirdest woman he had ever met, “You gotta name?”
She looked up and smiled, “Y/N.”
“Miles,” he returned his own with a nod.
She looked him over, assessing his wounds before smiling once more at him and returning to her work, “You may sleep, Miles.”
He didn't know why hearing his own name spoken softly like that felt… Different. But before he could think about it, exhaustion pulled him under.
a/n: This is a new Tumblr account of mine. I used to post a lot about 10 years ago, but I can't access my old account. Plus, I like to think my writing has gotten a lot better. Bear with me while I attempt to get my bearings on this platform. I love writing, and if you would like to be added to one of my lists, please feel free to ask!
Summary: This will be a multi-part series on Recom Miles Quaritch after the events of Fire and Ash. There will be spoilers. Quaritch is injured and finds his way back to a nearby place where the Omaticaya people used to live. A Na'Vi woman who has been outcast before the events of the 1st Avatar Movie, finds him. She is unaware of who he is and what his intentions are. All she knows is that he needs help... whether he wants it or not, is a different story.
wc: 1.5k
Warnings: Blood/Injury, Canon-Typical Behavior.
(There will probably be smut in future parts, but I will warn you first)
------------------------
Y/N was focused, looking for poisons, venoms, herbs, and food.
The forest was in a state of unease. The air felt still, too quiet, too peaceful.
Even from here... far from the great homes of the Omatikaya, far from the familiar rhythms of clan and song… something was wrong. The leaves did not settle the way they should. The night insects hesitated between their normal rhythmic beats, as if unsure whether it was safe to speak.
Y/N paused, crouched beneath the roots of a towering tree, her satchel heavy against her hip. The smell of smoke filled her lungs as she stood there.
Not the natural smoke of a nearby camp, but thick, bitter smoke that clung to the back of the throat. It carried an unfamiliar note of metal - human metal. Something that did not belong to the forest at all.
Her neon-green eyes narrowed as she looked toward the distant horizon between the trunks.
Had a battle passed through here? Was this area under attack?
Y/N was no seasoned warrior, but she knew how to keep herself out of trouble and away from not only the clan but the humans as well.
She knew at this moment that she should have turned back… That would have been the sensible choice. The choice her clan would have approved of before they decided she no longer belonged to them. Instead, she adjusted the strap of her satchel and continued forward.
The forest floor was changing as she pressed forward. Broken branches, flattened ferns, burn marks on bark where something hot and fast had passed too close… Whatever had happened, it had not been gentle… and it had not been small.
Then she heard it… Breathing. Not an animal. Not wind. Ragged breaths of pain sent in waves to her ears. Y/N stopped immediately, crouching low. Her hand slid instinctively toward the small blade at her thigh, though she dared not draw it. Not yet.
Another sound followed, something dragging across dirt. She moved slowly through the undergrowth, stepping around roots and fallen vines until the source came into view. At first, she thought it was a Na’vi warrior from a distant clan. Then she saw the armor - human armor. It had strange metal pieces, scorched and cracked. The unfamiliar harness was still strapped across his chest. Weapons were scattered uselessly in the dirt beside him.
He was huge. Even for a Na’vi. Stronger-looking. Heavier. Wrong. Alien. With an additional finger than those of her people. Well, of the people she once knew… Blue skin marked with stripes, but not quite like hers. Not quite like anyone she knew.
His tail twitched weakly against the ground as if it no longer obeyed him, and one of his eyes had swollen shut. The other opened when she stepped closer. Yellow eyes, at least that was familiar. Yet they were sharp and wary.
For a moment, neither of them moved, and the forest held its breath around them.
His gaze flicked to her hands, then her face, then the blade at her hip. A calculation happening behind his eyes… fast, practiced, and instinctive, like a predator assessing threat. She didn't flinch or react in any way, just observed. Observed the strange being in front of her. It wasn't like she was unfamiliar with the look he had given her. Her clan had all looked at her like that. The look had been strange coming from someone this close to death, though.
His voice came out rough, broken, like it hurt to form his own words, “Leave.” Y/N could tell that was not a request. It was an order from a man who had given many orders before.
Y/N tilted her head slightly, not backing down, “You are injured.”
“I said leave.” He shifted slightly, and his body betrayed him immediately. He inhaled sharply as his arms trembled from the pain. He attempted to reach for a weapon that wasn’t there anymore… He was weak, and although she could tell that he was someone who could have, in the past, easily fended for himself, he was not that man in this moment. He needed help. Y/N’s help.
Y/N stepped closer. Her movement made his muscles tense reactively, even through his exhaustion. Even through all the pain. “Do not,” he growled, “come any closer.”
She stopped at a careful distance, “If I leave, you die.”
There was a long pause. A pause of realization coming from the man... She was not threatening him; she was stating a fact.
His jaw tightened. His good eye flickered once toward the tree line, as if expecting someone else to appear. Whether that would be friend or foe, Y/N didn’t know, but to her it seemed that he had been there long enough to figure that no one would come in time. Just her. Just the forest. Just the slow drip of blood pooling into the soil.
“You don’t know me,” he said.
Y/N looked at him more closely now. The way his breathing was uneven. The way his body was already cooling from exhaustion rather than the heat of his burns. “You are hurt,” she repeated as if that was the only truth she needed.
After a long moment, his shoulders shifted. Not surrender exactly. But something close enough, “…fine,” he rasped.
Y/N approached slowly, crouching. The smell of crushed leaves and bitter herbs drifted out into the air as she pulled out her satchel. The man’s nostrils flared slightly at it, confusion breaking through pain.
“What is that?” he asked.
“Medicine.”
He let out a short, humorless breath. “Looks like poison.”
Y/N’s neon-green eyes lifted briefly to his face.
“It can be both.”
That made him go still as he watched her studying her face to see if she secretly meant to put him out of his misery. There was nothing he could do to stop it either way.
She worked without rushing, cleaning blood, assessing wounds, pressing leaves against torn skin, and binding what could be bound. Her fingers were steady in a way that suggested she had done this many times before.
Even when his eyelids grew heavy, he watched her tentatively. Even when his body wanted to shut down, he fought it to keep at least one eye firmly planted on what she had been doing.
She noticed, “You will sleep,” she urged.
“No.”
“You are already losing.”
A faint sound left him that might have been a laugh if it wasn’t so strained. “Yeah. Figured that one out, kid.” Despite himself, his eyes started to drift shut… And this time, he didn’t stop it.
…
When Y/N finally managed to get him upright, it took longer than she expected because he was heavier than most Na’vi she had carried in the past. Not just in body, but in presence. Like, even his spirit was fighting to stay independent. His body swayed in the opposite direction from her as she dragged him in a familiar direction. It took everything in her to catch him. “You are too large,” she muttered.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” he murmured back, eyes still half closed.
It was the first time his voice didn’t have the undertone of threat.
…
The walk back was slow and grueling. The forest changed as they moved deeper into HER territory. Plants that others avoided began to glow faintly between the trees. Fungi lit the ground in soft yellows and greens. The man glanced at his surroundings before closing his eyes once more… The sounds were fading out just as his consciousness.
As they approached the entrance of her home, she felt that he could walk the rest of the way. Her body was betraying her, and she didn't know if shed be able to carry him over the threshold. So she nudged him gently. When he opened his eyes, he saw a structure woven into the roots of an ancient tree, which was half hidden by vines and hanging herbs. Animal bones hung in careful arrangements nearby but they were not threatening.
“…you live here alone?”
“Yes.”
“That’s… not normal…”
Y/N guided him inside without answering.
…
He did not notice the thanator at first; most people didn't. It lay just beyond the threshold of the clearing, body still as stone, eyes open in the dark. Watching, waiting, protecting.
The man only noticed when he tried to turn his head toward the sound of movement outside. He froze, eyes widening, “What the hell is that?”
Y/N didn’t look up from where she had been preparing additional ointments for the man. “It is sleeping.”
“That thing is NOT sleeping.”
“It is breathing slowly...”
“That is a predator.”
Y/N finally glanced toward the door, “Yes.”
The man was silent for a moment as if carefully planning his next response, “…you have a predator outside your home.”
“Yes.”
“…why?”
She turned back to her mixing, “Because it chooses to stay.”
The man stared at her for a long moment, then, very quietly, he muttered, “You’re insane…”
“Perhaps.” Y/N’s neon-green eyes flickered in the dim light, and the fire crackled softly between them. For the first time since the battle that had broken him, Miles Quaritch was not sure whether he had been rescued… or simply placed somewhere worse…
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