part two: till death do us apart part two
summary: the sully’s moves away from the forest to awa’atlu, but what happens when neteyam, the eldest falls in love at first sight?
pairing: neteyam x fem!reader
a/n: part two is coming next week, sorry for leaving you on a cliffhanger!
when neteyam first saw you, he forgot how to breathe.
it happened on the shore of awa’atlu, with the sun hanging high over the water and the whole metkayina clan watching as his family stood there like strangers being measured.
everything already felt wrong.
the ocean was too wide, too open, too loud in its own quiet way. there were no trees reaching above him, no thick roots beneath his feet, no familiar sounds of the forest wrapping around him like home. the air tasted like salt and something unfamiliar, and every wave that rolled toward the shore reminded him that he did not belong here.
he stood beside his father and mother, shoulders straight, trying to look like he belonged anyway
looking like the oldest son who always knew what to do
inside, though, everything felt off balance.
they had left home behind.
they had left safety behind.
and no matter how much he told himself this was temporary, some part of him knew life had already changed too much to ever return to what it was before.
you stood a little behind ronal, carrying a woven basket at your side, listening to tsireya speak. the light caught on the shells woven through your braids, and for a moment it looked like the sea itself had decided to keep pieces of the shore in your hair
you were smiling, not for him, just smiling.
small and soft and easy, like it belonged there.
you looked like you had always belonged there.
like the water knew your name.
and when you looked up and your eyes met his, neteyam felt something in his chest stop completely
he knew that immediately.
you were a stranger standing in a place he had only just arrived in
and still, in that one second, it felt like the world shifted.
lo’ak noticed, because of course he did.
lo’ak had a gift for sensing exactly when neteyam’s life was becoming difficult.
he leaned closer, keeping his voice low enough that only neteyam could hear.
“you look like you just saw eywa herself”
“you are in love already”
lo’ak grinned like the terrible younger brother he was and leaned back, looking far too pleased with himself.
it did not help that a second later, you smiled at him.
small enough that maybe no one else would notice.
and suddenly the whole ocean felt like a personal attack.
his father spoke to tonowari, his mother stood sharp and silent beside him.
ao’nung looked like he had already decided lo’ak was going to become his least favorite person alive
and you stayed quiet, watching.
every so often, your eyes found his again.
just enough to make him forget every useful thought he had ever had.
that night, lying awake in a woven shelter that did not feel like his, neteyam stared at the ceiling and replayed the whole thing
the way sunlight looked against your skin.
the way you had looked at him like he was not some strange forest boy standing awkwardly on your shore
for all he knew, you thought he looked ridiculous.
which, to be fair, he probably did.
for all he knew, you were probably already promised to some metkayina warrior who could breathe underwater forever and ride an ilu like it was part of him.
someone who did not look like he was fighting for his life every time a wave touched him.
and still, there you were.
lo’ak’s voice came from nearby.
neteyam turned his head and found his brother stretched out like he had not a single problem in the world.
“you are thinking about ocean girl”
“i am not calling her that”
“thank you. very helpful”
for once, lo’ak’s voice softened a little.
“she was looking at you too”
neteyam stared back at the ceiling.
“hopeless” lo’ak muttered.
the next morning was worse, because now you were real.
not just some perfect memory his brain had spent all night making worse
standing by the shore with tsireya and tuk, helping tuk hold some tiny shell creature she had absolutely no business touching
tuk was talking loudly with the full confidence of someone who believed the world existed for her entertainment
tsireya looked patient in the way older sisters had to be
and neteyam, carrying training gear and trying not to look directly at you, walked straight into a wooden post.
spider laughed so loudly people turned around
lo’ak had to actually sit down in the sand because he was laughing too hard
even kiri looked disappointed.
“i do not need this from any of you”
“you definitely do” spider said.
lo’ak pointed at you like a traitor.
kiri followed his hand, spotted you, and made the worst possible face.
“you have terrible timing”
training itself was humiliating enough without your existence making it worse
everything about the water felt unnatural
the metkayina moved like they had been born from the sea itself, every motion smooth and certain.
neteyam had spent his whole life in the forest.
things that stayed where they were supposed to stay.
the ocean did not care about any of that, it moved when it wanted, and it expected you to move with it.
especially when you were nearby.
especially when ao’nung looked like he was one bad mood away from throwing lo’ak into the reef
“you are too stiff,” tsireya told kiri kindly.
“your breathing is wrong,” ao’nung told lo’ak with the energy of someone offended by his existence.
and then your voice came from beside him.
you sat there with your hands in your lap, looking at him like this was the most obvious thing in the world.
his brain immediately stopped working
“in the water, you think too much”
you smiled even more at that.
you stepped forward and gently took the training spear from his hand.
like the water welcomed you
every step was smooth, every motion calm, like the sea itself had decided you belonged and would make room for you.
soft and warm and absolutely ruining his life.
behind him, lo’ak made a sound that was definitely laughter and definitely a threat.
neteyam considered murder.
you looked far too amused
“come” you said, handing the spear back.
your fingers brushed his.
after that, things only got worse.
because now you talked to him
showing him where the calmer currents were near the reef
asking if forest people really slept that high in the trees because that sounded like a challenge from gravity itself
except nothing felt normal when you looked at him like that
like you wanted to know him
by sunset, neteyam had reached the deeply unfortunate conclusion that he liked hearing his name in your voice far too much
that evening, while helping repair fishing nets, he made the mistake of sitting beside kiri
which meant there was no peace.
“you are smiling at the net”
“please let me suffer quietly”
kiri smiled without looking up.
“there is nothing to know.”
“you should talk to her!”
“no. you panic politely in her direction. that is different”
“that feels unnecessarily accurate”
because she was right, of course she was right
you made this place feel less sharp
more like maybe, eventually, breathing again
you made him laugh when he felt like the opposite
you made the ocean feel less impossible
and wanting was dangerous
because wanting meant hope
still, the next few days passed and somehow he kept ending up near you
or maybe you kept ending up near him?
he tried not to think too hard about that.
you were there during ilu training, laughing when he almost slipped trying to climb on properly, there when tuk proudly announced she had adopted at least three sea creatures and neteyam was apparently responsible now, there when kiri dragged everyone to watch the glowing reef at night.
like it had happened slowly instead of all at once.
one day he found himself sitting down by the water, feet halfway into the water
the sun was lower now, turning the water gold.
about how strange it was to miss something so much it felt like part of your body had been left behind.
you sat beside him without asking
which somehow made it easier.
for a while, neither of you spoke.
your eyes stayed on the horizon.
something in his chest eased
because kindness was one thing
understanding was another.
you were quiet for a moment before speaking again.
“when i was younger, i thought the reef was the whole world. i could not imagine anything beyond it”
“then travelers came from other clans. forest people, mountain people, air people, they all carried home differently”
“i think loving your home means carrying it with you. even when you have to leave”
because somehow, without trying, you had reached straight into the center of it.
“do you always say things like that?”
“only when i want to sound wise”
“is it working?” u added after a few seconds
and for a second, everything felt still
then tuk’s voice exploded from somewhere behind you.
the moment shattered instantly
tuk came running toward you both carrying something small, alive and slimy
neteyam stood immediately.
tuk proudly held up a tiny wet creature that looked personally offended by life
“both of you are impossible” neteyam said with a sigh
from farther away, lo’ak shouted:
“do not name it after me.”
your laughter followed him all the way back
that night, neteyam realized something terrible
not enough to erase everything.
and you were part of that
which was exactly why he kept trying not to say anything.
because this, whatever this was, felt fragile.
and neteyam had spent too much of his life learning how quickly fragile things broke.
but eywa, you made it difficult.
one day the festival comes
music drifted through the village, warm and bright. children ran between fires and the people, food was everywhere, people laughed, and for the first time since arriving, the heaviness lifted.
even lo’ak had temporarily stopped being a disaster
which meant the universe was clearly preparing something.
he was helping carry supplies when kiri appeared beside him with the expression of someone about to ruin his life.
“you should ask her to walk with you!”
before he could escape, kiri physically turned him by the shoulders
standing near the water, moonlight caught in your braids
beautiful in the kind of way that made words feel useless.
kiri smiled like a villain.
“i would rather fight a thanator”
neteyam stumbled forward with all the grace of a dying fish.
he had one chance to sound normal.
you looked like you were trying not to laugh.
the silence that followed was not awkward
the ocean moved slowly behind you. the music carried softly from the village.
you looked out at the water.
the question caught him off guard.
“awa’atlu” you shrugged slightly.
“you smile more now than when you arrived. but sometimes you still look like you are waiting to leave”
honesty felt easier with you
“i think i was afraid that liking it would feel like betraying home”
you were quiet for a moment.
“you can miss one place and still love another”
because suddenly the space between you felt smaller
because suddenly he was very aware of how close your hand was to his
“something or should i say someone here make that difficult” he mumbled
“make what difficult?” you said
he turned his face towards yours
the place where he could still step back
where he could laugh and pretend and keep things safe
instead, neteyam looked at you standing there in the moonlight and decided maybe drowning was fine.
“not liking this place too much”
the kind where the whole world seemed to stop breathing with him.
excellent. i will now walk into the sea and never return.
small at first, then real.
warm enough to ruin him completely.
“that,” you said softly “took much longer than i expected”
“i was starting to think forest boys were all hopeless”
his brain stopped functioning.
“yes” you said with a slight laugh
“since you walked into that post”
“that is the worst possible answer.”
“i thought it was charming”
“it was deeply humiliating”
quiet and helpless and a little disbelieving
because somehow, impossibly, this was happening.
the ocean did not feel so impossible anymore
“are you going to keep staring at me, or are you finally going to do something about it”
he smiled before he could stop himself.
“that should concern you”
giving you time to pull away.
your fingers slipped into his like they had always belonged there
he should have kissed you.
the moment was there, bright and obvious.
but before he could move, before he could say anything else, a shout came from farther down the beach.
all at once, the warmth cracked.
the music from the festival faltered.
and neteyam saw his father moving fast toward the shore, his expression sharper than it had been all night.
lo’ak was right behind him.
and whatever had just happened, whatever news had arrived, it was enough to make the whole village feel suddenly still.
you did not let go, your hand just tightened in his even more.
and in that one terrible second, he knew.
whatever came next was going to change everything.
