Olivia Pope did not fidget. The black cocktail dress, a Valentino that whispered power with every seam, was her armor. The flute of champagne in her left hand was a prop, not a drink. She’d taken one sip in ninety minutes, just enough to leave a faint gloss on the crystal. The gala hummed around her—senators, tech moguls, journalists pretending not to be on the clock—but her attention was a laser. Somewhere near the bar, Senator Calloway was about to say the wrong thing to the wrong reporter, and she was already calculating the damage. Three steps ahead. Always.
Then the air shifted.
It wasn’t a sound so much as a ripple of attention. Heads turned by increments toward the entrance. Olivia tracked it without moving her neck. A man had arrived late—unforgivably late, by D.C. standards—and the room was rearranging itself around him. He wore Tom Ford like a casual afterthought, the jacket unbuttoned, no tie. His beard was trimmed with the kind of precision that suggested he’d done it himself three minutes before walking in, and the arc reactor visible beneath his shirt wasn’t a fashion statement. It glowed. A soft, cerulean pulse.
Tony Stark.
Of course. The keynote speaker. Olivia had skimmed the guest list, noted his name, filed him under “manageable chaos.” She’d been wrong about that second part, she realized now. The chaos wasn’t manageable. It was gravitational.
She watched him work the room without moving. He shook hands without letting go, leaned in too close, said things that made old white men laugh nervously. Every woman in a twenty-foot radius adjusted her posture. Even the ones who pretended not to.
“You’re staring.”
The voice came from her left. Abby, her right hand, appeared with a fresh glass of champagne Olivia didn’t need.
“I’m assessing,” Olivia said, voice flat.
“Same thing, with you.” Abby’s smile was a flicker. “He’s heading this way.”
Olivia didn’t react. Her pulse did something stupid, a hard thump against her ribs that she refused to acknowledge. She turned, just enough, and found Tony Stark ten feet away, his eyes already on her.
Not scanning the room. Not looking past her to find someone more important. On her.
“Ms. Pope.” He said her name like it was a private joke they’d been sharing for years. “You’re harder to get a meeting with than a head of state. I checked.”
“You didn’t try hard enough.” She let the corner of her mouth lift. Not a smile. A warning shot. “My office has a phone.”
“Phones are boring.” Stark closed the distance. The scent of him—sandalwood, something sharper underneath, ozone maybe, from whatever that thing in his chest actually did—touched her before his hand did. He extended it. Not for a handshake. Palm up, an invitation. “Dance with me.”
Abby made a sound like a stifled cough and evaporated into the crowd.
Olivia didn’t take his hand. “I’m working.”
“You’re breathing. That’s the only prerequisite.” His eyes flicked down to her left hand, the one still holding the champagne. “You’ve been nursing that glass for an hour. You’re not a drinker. You’re a watcher. So watch me while we dance.”
The logic was absurd. It was also disarming. Olivia set the glass on a passing tray and gave him nothing. “The last time someone told me to watch them, I was cleaning up a congressman’s sexting scandal within forty-eight hours.”
“Sounds like a slow Tuesday for you.” Stark’s hand remained extended. “I don’t sext. I have too much respect for the medium.”
A laugh. She almost let it escape. The muscle under her jaw tightened. “You’re trying to charm me.”
“Is it working?”
“No.”
“Liar.” He said it without malice, without the smug certainty she expected. Just a simple, warm observation, the way someone might comment on the weather. “Your left eyebrow does this thing. A micro-expression. When you’re deflecting, it twitches. Did it just now.”
Her eyebrow, traitor that it was, remained perfectly still. But something lower—a flutter in the pit of her stomach, unwelcome and undeniable—responded.
The band started a new song. Something slow. A saxophone curling through the ballroom like smoke.
Stark finally lowered his hand. But he didn’t step back. If anything, he stepped closer, reducing the distance between them to something less than professional. The glow from the arc reactor threw faint blue shadows across the lapel of his jacket. “Okay. No dancing. Talk to me instead.”
“About what?”
“About why you look at this room like it’s a chessboard and you’re the only one who can see six moves ahead.” His voice dropped, just for her. “About why you’re bored.”
Olivia’s spine straightened. She didn’t look away. “I’m not bored.”
“You’re so bored you could scream. But you won’t. Because screaming would be messy, and you don’t do messy.” His gaze traveled her face, not lecherous, but cataloging. Like she was a blueprint he was memorizing for a reason she couldn’t guess. “I know the type. I am the type. Except I scream. Usually at people who work for me. But I’m working on it.”
A beat of silence passed between them. The kind that had texture.
“You think you know me after two minutes,” she murmured.
“Three and a half. I’m counting.” Stark tilted his head. “I know you’re the woman who fixed the Calloway situation last spring before it became a headline. I know you haven’t taken a vacation in four years. I know you wear heels that cost more than most people’s rent because they make a sound. A specific sound. It tells people you’re coming before they see you. Power in the warning.”
Her jaw loosened by a fraction. She hadn’t blinked. “You researched me.”
“I didn’t have to. You’re the most interesting person in this room, and I have a radar for interesting things. It’s calibrated.” He touched his chest, right where the reactor sat. “Literally. It beeps. You’re setting it off.”
Olivia’s fingers curled at her sides. She imagined stepping back, creating distance, retrieving her armor. But her feet stayed planted. “What do you want, Mr. Stark?”
“Tony.”
“What do you want, Tony?”
There it was. The flash of something real behind the performance. His eyes, dark and impossibly focused, held hers. “I want to see what happens when you stop being bored for five minutes. With me.”
Around them, the gala continued its oblivious rotation. Waiters wove through with canapés. Somewhere, Senator Calloway was probably still talking, still digging a hole. But that emergency had faded to white noise.
“I have a job to do,” she said. The words came out with less conviction than she intended.
“You have a phone in that deceptively simple clutch. You can do your job from anywhere. I know. I invented half the technology in it.”
She almost smiled. God help her, she almost smiled. “You’re insufferable.”
“Accurate.” He stepped back, finally, and the loss of proximity hit her like a door opening in a pressurized cabin. “I’m staying at the Hay-Adams. Suite four-twelve. If you’re done being bored, come find me.”
He turned before she could refuse. Before she could do anything but watch the line of his shoulders as he walked away, the casual confidence in his stride.
Abby materialized at her elbow. “So. That happened.”
Olivia didn’t answer. Her mind was a cascade of calculations: the risks, the optics, the sheer impossibility of a woman like her crossing a line like that. Tony Stark wasn’t a distraction. He was a detonation.
But her fingers, still curled at her sides, were tingling. The spot on her palm where he might have touched her felt electric, as if the charge from his chest had jumped the gap.
“Calloway?” Abby prompted.
“Handle it.”
“And you?”
Olivia finally lifted her gaze from the path Stark had cut through the crowd. The exit doors were still swinging slightly. The Hay-Adams was four blocks away.
She thought about rules. The ones she’d built her life around. The ones that kept her safe, kept her sharp, kept her untouchable. She thought about the sound of his voice saying liar. The way he’d looked at her not as a strategist or a fixer or a weapon, but as a woman holding her breath underwater and refusing to admit she was drowning.
She thought about what it might feel like to exhale.
Abby was still waiting.
Olivia reached for her clutch, checked her phone—no new crises—and began walking toward the doors.
“Olivia,” Abby called, a note of warning in her voice. “What do I tell the senator?”
Without breaking stride, Olivia said, “Tell him I’ve found something more interesting.”
Description: You might have volunteered to train Jake to spite the man that betrayed you, but weeks of time with the dreamwalker transform your obligation into much more. Your ex's hate for humans makes him a nuisance and Jake eventually takes matters into his own hands.
Word Count: 7.7k
Pairing: jake sully x na’vi!fem!reader
Content Warning: angst, inner turmoil, post-breakup spiral, interpersonal conflict, non-explicit fighting, belittling and manipulation, reader's ex needs a warning just for existing, mentions of reader’s dead father (let me know if there is anything else!)
Author's Note: this took me ages to complete !! will i ever be able to write something short ever again? it was supposed to be a quick final submission to @junebugonjupiter's Jake Sully Event that ended over a week ago… oops ! i hope you all enjoy this labor of love !
prompts: 21. Your ex and Jake don't like each other and kind of 23. Everyone assumes you and Jake are dating even though you’re not (yet)
thank you, June, for your constant support and understanding and for making me a better writer !! i had doubts about this fic but you always encouraged me 🥹 you are the best twosin ever !
Na'vi to English Translations:
Uniltìranyu: dreamwalker
Tutan txe'lanluke: heartless man
Nantang: viperwolves
Velek: Surrender, give up
Kehe: no
Fwäkì ke fwefwi: Mantis doesn’t whistle
Yayotsyìp: little bird
Kä: go
Kelku: home/house
Wiya: expression of warning or frustration
Iknimaya: Stairway to Heaven, a rite of passage in which Na'vi hunters capture and bond with an ikran
Uniltaron: The Dream Hunt, a rite of passage in which Na'vi seek their spirit animal
The bioluminescence of the forest whipped by you in streaks of light as the drum of pa’li hooves beating against the ground filled the air. The steady sound resonated through your bones with each gallop and the cool of the night rushed over your skin like water. The smell of early spring filled your senses as the strength and sureness of the creature beneath you overtook your own testy emotions.
Stroking the neck of your Pa’li, you urged him to quickly follow the group of hunters that had set out at Neytiri’s scout report. Night had fallen, but she had run back to alert her father and the other warriors that a uniltìranyu (dreamwalker) was in the forest and that Eywa had stopped her from taking action against him. A murmur had passed through the crowds of people gathering for the evening meal as Neytiri’s betrothed spoke loudly of his wish to leave the demon in the forest to die.
However, at the behest of the Tsahik, he was forced to lead the charge of hunters to capture the human. He rode out just ahead of Tsu’tey, whom you respected greatly. Lek’ann by contrast, was an insulting sight you wished never to be subjected to ever again. You usually did your best to avoid him, but your eyes lingered on the back of his head as you followed. You scoffed at the sight of the colored beads you had given him adorning his braided hair. The nerve of the tutan txe'lanluke (heartless man).
The beads and the many other gifts you had exchanged with him had been a constant reminder of your foolishness. In your despair, you had fled into the forest one night and burned them all, watching as months of promises turned to ash. Though it was you who had broken the courtship, the sting of his betrayal was still fresh. You had been so naive. Only Eywa knew why such a thing could pass and only Eywa could bring you through. You knew that she would, and so you shook off the wave of self-pity lest you fall behind, hoping your unease would not affect your sturdy direhorse.
Jakesully was not hard to miss. You saw him for the first time that night, waving a fiery branch at the many nantang that slunk in the shadows. With the press of your heel and your internal command, you rode directly toward a viperwolf as it crouched in preparation to pounce, ready to strike the human from behind.
Your mount’s imposing body cut through the predator’s path and it shirked away. Jake whipped around and his eyes searched frantically in the dark until they landed on you just as the hunters surrounded him. “Oh shit,” he said, slowly holding up his five-fingered hands and the remaining nantang fled the scene.
“Velek (surrender), uniltìranyu!” Lek’ann spoke and threatened Jake in his puffed up way that you once found handsome. A pointless display of dominance over a man who did not understand a single word spoken. His voice became noise as your eyes fixed on the victim, who began laughing in disbelief. His clothes were ripped and hair untamed but his eyes were sharp and attentive. There were no traces of fear in them.
“Damnit,” Jake muttered to himself as Tsu’tey bound his hands and pushed him along. You rode beside him as others raced ahead. “Shit. Grace, you’re never gonna believe this.”
Jake was walked into Hometree like a beast led to slaughter. Eytukan awaited his arrival, standing fiercely on the dais at the foot of the spiral and Mo’at came down with bold steps just behind him. You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of compassion for Jake as he stood as a spectacle among the people.
After her inspection of him, Mo'at’s voice rang out, saying, “Who among the warriors would teach him the Na’vi way?”
The crowd bristled. With no response, Mo’at posed the question again. You looked around and saw a range of hesitance and opposition in the faces of your brothers and sisters. It was the almost purple hue of Lek’ann’s face as it contorted in rage that spurred you to volunteer.
“I will,” you said, stepping forward and raising your bow, heart loud in your ears. You fixed your eyes on Mo’at, whose gaze flicked between you and Jake as she considered the pairing.
“It has been decided,” the Tsahik nodded and turned to Jake. “Learn well, Jakesully, then we will see if your insanity can be cured.”
“Kehe!” Lek’ann shouted, the muscles around his neck pulling tautly. “Tsahik! You should not trust her with a dreamwalker.”
Your heart sank as he looked at you with incredulity and disgust. You feared he would approach you, but he quickly trailed after Mo’at and Eytukan, speaking with them urgently. Your grip on the arc of your bow loosened. You hated the feeling that weighed in your chest, it twisted your heart and made it hard. The opposite of love was not hate, and you prayed to Eywa that one day you would feel nothing for Lek’ann. That you would find respite, and be free, oh, great Mother, please.
“Hey, uh, thank you,” Jake’s voice came suddenly from your side, almost making you jump. You looked up quickly to see that his head was tilted as he regarded you. He smiled and lifted a hand toward you in a strange gesture. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Jake.”
“Y/n,” you nodded, eyeing his palm. When nothing happened, Jake clasped his hands together rather awkwardly. In the meantime you had begun to inspect his tattered clothes again and you made up your mind. “Please, follow me.”
You offered him a polite smile before you started up the spiral, leading Jake to the next level of Hometree. Just below, Lek’ann pleaded loudly with Mo’at. His grating voice traveling upwards after you:
“Tsahik, if I may speak, we must deal with the demon swiftly. He is a danger to us all. You must cast him out. He is a mockery to the Na’vi way…”
“What’s that guy’s problem?” Jake muttered, his shoulder bumping into yours as he leaned down.
“Do not mind him. Much of his words hold no real substance,” you advised, shaking your head and moving so your shoulders could not touch again. “Fwäkì ke fwefwi (Mantis doesn’t whistle).”
“Mind translating that?” Jake asked, eyes round.
Lek’ann’s voice grew smaller as you walked, but you still heard, “You know what they are capable of. Think of your daughter… Have we not suffered enough? Y/n is weak in spirit, extremely impressionable, she cannot…”
Speaking loudly to overpower Lek’ann in your own ears, you explained as the hollow in your chest deepened, “Do not expect someone to do something that is not in their inherent nature.”
Jake nodded, but he looked displeased. “He just said your name,” he noted, “I might not know what he’s saying but I sure can make out an insult.”
“He is insulting us both. Do not worry about me,” you requested, trying to focus on the man in front of you and not the one below. “Worry about you.”
Seeing Jake’s mouth open you quickly continued before he could protest, “Come, you must change out of your human clothes, Jakesully.”
He held concern in his eyes, you did not know why. His mouth twisted down before a thought passed and the corners lifted up again. “You can just call me Jake.”
“You have much to learn, Jake,” you attempted, mimicking his foreign inflection. “We must prove Lek’ann wrong.”
“Oorah.” Whatever that sound had meant, Jake looked determined.
The rest of the night passed in a blur, especially as you considered the reality of your decision. Eywa had placed the fate of this skyperson, the enemy, in your hands. The events of the day and the words spoken about you replayed in your mind as Jake settled in the hammock beside yours. You hoped he could not hear you cry.
—
Spring had warmed Pandora and arrays of new growth were scattered across the forest in bursts of color. The distraction Jake’s training provided and the changing of the seasons were good for your soul. He learned quickly when he was not distracted, but even then, you could not be mad. The look of wonder on his face always made you smile.
Today, like the many days before, Jake stood before you. His hair was braided away from his face in a way that suited his sharp, square features. You thought he looked quite Na’vi, though the hair on his furrowed brow gave him away.
You pressed a hand against Jake’s abdomen, hoping to remind him to engage the muscles there as he drew his bow. Instead, he stiffened and his breath stuttered along with the movement.
“Try again,” you encouraged softly, tapping against his core. “Use your breath. Speed will come, focus on the motion.”
“Got it,” Jake said, a little breathlessly. Stepping back, you watched as he lifted his arms and pulled back on the bowstring. It pleased you to see your father’s bow in use again so many years after his passing. You were admiring it fondly when your ears perked toward sounds of movement behind you.
You pretended not to notice, but you knew it was Lek’ann who prowled like a territorial animal. You had inadvertently invited his attention and invoked his wrath by taking on Jake as your pupil. He had been keeping an eye on you both, always hovering just nearby, like he had nothing better to do. Unless he decided to be intrusive, he was easy to ignore by keeping your gaze fixed on Jake. You did just that and prayed he would not disturb you today, but knew it was too late when Jake’s arms dropped and his ears pressed back. Jake drew himself up to his full height and you followed his gaze over your shoulder.
“Give up, dreamwalker,” Lek’ann spit in his usual unpleasant manner, though his English words were choppy. He stalked closer as you turned fully, crossing your arms. “It is no use. Even small beasts of the forest will show no mercy to an unskilled warrior such as you. Return to your people.”
“So you do speak English,” Jake observed flatly.
Lek’ann glared at him and switched to Na’vi to address you. “There is no point, y/n. What are you doing this for? He does not belong here, you know it is true. You are smarter than this.”
Your brow rose in disbelief. “Do not–”
“Tsu’tey, Peyral, and many others agree with me,” he interrupted, gesturing to his chest with his hands.
“And Neytiri? What does your betrothed think?” you bit back, your words dripping with venom.
His jaw tightened and he looked away just briefly. “It does not matter what she thinks.”
“Yes, it does,” you objected, lifting a hand to the sky. “Eywa gave her a sign, revealing her favor. It is your efforts to change her will that are in vain. Tsahik was very clear.”
“Then Eywa must be mistaken.”
You gasped, “Lek’ann!”
Lek’ann stepped closer and his hand came to rest on your upper arm. His touch was warm and familiar and your resolve began to crumble. His voice softened, “Yayotsyìp, please—“
The sound of that name from his lips made you recoil. You remembered all the ways he had spoken it before. Often with laughter, with reverence, with sincerity and with what you were so sure was love. Your flesh might rot where his hand rested, but it was the term of endearment that made your blood boil.
Jake’s hiss came from beside you as he stepped forward with his teeth bared. It was a frightful sound that snapped you out of your preoccupation as Lek’ann flinched backward, his hand withdrawing with him. Lek’ann’s eyes were full of surprise and indignation, but he quickly retaliated with a hiss of his own.
The men glared at each other, hackles raised, as you tried to gather yourself, blinking hard. The emotion that knotted your stomach rose in your chest and threatened to choke you.
“Leave us, Lek’ann,” you demanded, more strongly than you felt.
“But–“
“Go!” you shrieked, throwing your body forward.
Lek’ann did not budge and Jake repeated your command in Na’vi, “Kä!”
A sour mix of disbelief and defeat painted Lek’ann’s face as he regarded you both for a moment before retreating. Jake’s shoulders were tense until Lek’ann disappeared into the trees.
“Yeah, that’s right,” Jake muttered, swinging back around to you.
You deflated as all the strength in your body vanished, swaying on your feet. Your limbs were as heavy as boulders and you did not know whether to scream, or cry, or even laugh.
“What would happen if I punched him?” Jake asked, squeezing his hand into a fist.
You took a deep breath. “Big trouble.”
“Who does he think he is?” Jake scoffed, glancing in the direction of Lek’ann’s departure.
“He is next in line to be clan leader,” you explained numbly, moving to pick up the bow Jake had set down.
Jake eyed you thoughtfully, “There’s somethin’ else.”
“I do not know what you speak of,” you tried to dismiss.
He leveled a knowing look at you. “I wasn’t born yesterday. Yah-yow-tsip? What does that mean?”
You winced and sighed, looking to the sky where the trees swayed in the breeze. “Little bird,” it pained you to confess. “You are right. He was once very dear to me.”
“What happened?” he asked, carefully moving closer to you.
You avoided his intent gaze and you traced the ridges and lines of the bow’s carved wood with your finger. Growing up you had stared at it where it hung in your family’s kelku, often wishing for your father’s strength, protection and wisdom in times of need. Would Lek’ann have respected your father enough to respect you? Could you have been spared heartbreak and humiliation? You would never know and nothing good came from imagining otherwise.
“He pursued me,” you began, smiling wryly. “Courted me for many rotations. I was certain we would…” You paused, the word too intimate to say, and swallowed before you continued, “All the while, he had been promised to another woman.”
Jake inhaled sharply through his nose and when you looked up, you could tell he was working very hard to control his expression. His jaw moved, clenching tightly to hide a grimace.
“He knew this while I did not. We could not continue once I discovered the truth…That is what happened,” you concluded, trying to sound unaffected. You had never recounted the story aloud, not even to your closest friend, and your ears burned in shame.
“That’s what happened,” Jake repeated quietly to himself in disbelief, hands closing and opening repeatedly. “What a piece of work.”
He looked away and took a breath before nodding back toward you. “We’ve got a lot of words in English to describe a guy like that,” he shook his head, scowling, but he spoke softly when he added, “Thanks for tellin’ me.”
You nodded, pursing your lips. “It is maybe good that you know. Lek’ann does not give up so easily. He will be back.”
“Still a no on the punching? I’d be happy to,” Jake offered, and you couldn’t tell if he was joking. You didn’t think he was.
“Still no, despite your honorable intentions.” You straightened, took another deep breath and held the bow out to him. “Shall we resume?”
“Are you up for it?” Jake countered as he took the weapon. He held your gaze until you shook your head and deflated again.
“No, I am sorry,” you sighed.
“I think a walk’ll do us some good,” Jake suggested.
You nodded. A walk sounded nice, but you really wanted to ride. Or fly. It was a beautiful day to fly. It would help clear your head, and you would not be neglecting Jake’s training if you took him with you.
“This way, Jake,” you declared, gesturing with the tilt of your head. “There is someone I want you to meet.”
You began your trek back to Hometree, reinvigorated by the thought of your ikran and introducing her to your pupil. Jake kept in step with you even though you knew his stride was greater than yours. His presence was comforting, the sound of each of his steps reminding you that you weren’t alone. You were glad Jake was with you to face Lek’ann, even if he was the reason for the unwanted attention. It felt good to have someone stand up for you, to be strong when you couldn’t.
You took in the sight of his side profile for a moment before saying, “It was very good, by the way. Very natural.”
“What was?” Jake turned to you with his head cocked to the side.
You looked up at him and hissed playfully.
His brow lifted with a laugh. “Did you see the way he jumped?”
“Yes.” You smiled. “I did.”
—
The breeze was a welcome relief from the humidity that clung to your skin, it would rain soon but not quite yet. From so high up, the view of your beloved forest extended endlessly in each direction. You could almost make out the Ayram alusìng (floating mountains) which had made that particular tree your favorite spot when you found it all those years ago.
There were still trees that towered over the one you were perched on and you smiled, admiring Hometree from afar and thanking Eywa for such a beautiful and strong dwelling. Finally peering down, you watched as Jake attempted to climb up the tree after you and laughed as he struggled, expressing his frustrations in grunts of effort and his new favorite word “wiya”. Your father’s bow was slung across his chest as he used his arms to pull himself up each branch.
“He is slow,” a voice came from beside you. “He makes many missteps.”
Your head snapped up toward the sound. “Lek’ann,” you sighed deeply, finding him leaning in the shadows against the trunk of the tree. The sight of Lek’ann’s face and the sound of his voice was an assault to your senses, now more irritating than heartbreaking. You should have known he would find you here. You had brought him in the early, rose-colored days of your courtship when you were excited to share parts of your life with him. The unwanted memory of how he had held you in his arms, just where he stood now, accentuated the emotional distance that lingered in the physical space that stretched between you.
You knew he had waited until the rare moment you were alone to strike and you were growing tired of his persistence. Lek’ann was a ghost of your past you couldn’t seem to shake, who continued to torment you.
“This has lasted long enough,Yayotsyìp,” Lek’ann said, speaking gently like he used to, but his tricks would not fool you anymore. “Putting the clan at risk to enact your revenge on me is rash and irresponsible.” He stopped in front of you and lifted his hand, brushing the back of his fingers against your cheek. “You have proven your point to me. End this foolish venture.”
You tore your head away from his touch. “I am not seeking revenge,” you insisted, off-put by his feigned tenderness. “This is no longer about what transpired between us.”
You would never be the girl that fell for his manipulation again. The bitterness and resentment you carried for Lek’ann had begun eating you alive. But Eywa provided, unexpectedly and in her own timing. It was easy to forget all your troubles when you were with Jake. Your obligation to him melted into delight in his company. He forced you to be present and see the forest through his eyes, pulling you up out of the dark valley of your past. You felt your shell of shame and sorrow melting away as you ran with Jake through the forest, laughed over his discovery of Na’vi delicacies, and guided his hands that held knife and bow.
In your newfound reality, you saw a glimpse of what life could be without the pain of Lek’ann’s betrayal like a yoke upon your neck. Experiencing such a change made you realize how much power he had over you, power that he did not deserve. You knew there was only one way to rid him of it forever. Releasing Lek’ann from your unforgiveness would be to release yourself from his hold, even if he still lingered like a bad taste in your mouth.
A wave of courage filled you now, even as his eyes narrowed and he took another step toward you. “I know you volunteered to spite me,” he accused.
“You are right,” you admitted, ignoring the cocky glint in his eye. His accusation was somewhat true, at least in the moment you answered Mo’at’s call many weeks ago. Yet, you were beginning to see Eywa’s hand upon it all. “I did it because you think I am weak and have wronged me greatly, but Eywa has given me the strength to forgive you. I wish for all bitterness, malice, anger and slander to be put away from us.”
Lek’ann’s expression soured and he scoffed, pointing a finger at you. “You have wronged me, y/n,” he bit out. “Remeber, you chose to break our courtship. You endanger our people with your naivete. You have caused enough trouble, it is clear you need me to fix your mistakes.”
“You know that is not true,” you defended, incredulity threatening to shatter your calm. “I do not need you. There is nothing to fix!”
Lek’ann opened his mouth to speak but he quickly clenched his jaw shut and his brow lowered. He regarded you as if he had never seen you and his speechlessness made you pause.
“Please, Lek’ann,” you said, reigning in your exasperation. “If you ever felt anything real for me, let us walk freely of each other, in peace. Do not seek me out. Do not interfere in my life any longer.
His shock morphed into anger and he inhaled sharply, but you did not cower.
“And leave Jake alone. Your prejudice only gives him reason to turn against us.”
“Do you hear yourself, Yayotsyìp?”
“Stop that. I am no longer your yayotsyìp,” you ordered before your courage could run out and he sputtered. Waves of his fury seemed to roll off of him, boiling up from under his skin. “I will not argue with you anymore.” You offered a tight lipped smile that made his eye twitch before saying, “Goodbye.”
He called after you as you hopped down to the branch below and swung to the next. Lek’ann would surely bother you again, but your burst of courage gave you confidence. Lek’ann may pose a threat to Jake’s training, but he was no real threat to you, not anymore. Your smile grew wider as you lowered to the next branch, feeling like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Just at that moment, Jake’s hands reached up and grasped the wood.
Crouching, you leaned over to meet his face with a grin.
“Woah,” he breathed in surprise, eyes wide. “Hi.”
“Hi,” you replied, taking in the way his hair stuck to his wrinkled forehead. “I have changed my mind, we will climb another tree.”
“What?” Jake huffed, eyes widening and breathing hard. He let his arms drop. “We’re going back down?”
“Yes,” you said as you looped your arms under the branch and flipped down, landing just beside him. You laughed as he deflated, shoulders slumping.
He caught his breath and bent over, his hands on his knees. “What’s got you smiling like that?”
“It is a beautiful day,” you answered, reaching out and tugging gently on one of his braids. His lips stretched into a smile and you regarded him fondly for a time before he straightened up. “Let us not waste it.”
You began your descent, jumping down to the next branch and looked back to see Jake do the same. Though his footing was unsteady, he copied your movements perfectly.
“Wait,” Jake said before you could continue and you paused. He looked up the tree before tilting his head to the side. “Thought I heard you talking to someone up there. Everything okay?”
You nodded. Everything was okay, and for the first time in a very long time, you believed it.
—
“Y/n!” Jake practically shouted from across the room, waving and making his way through clusters of people settled around the communal area. The room buzzed with chatter and the body of Hometree diffused the sun as it poured in, beams of light illuminating the space in a dreamlike haze. The sunlight reflected off the droplets of water that still clung to the ends of his hair.
Ignoring the teasing smile on your friend Serunga'’s lips, you put down the leather in your hands and stood from your spot among the other weavers to wave back. Your hair was damp too, and flowed unstyled over your shoulders. A wash in the river had been much needed after Jake fell into mud earlier in the day. You might have avoided a similar fate if you had outrun him, but he was too quick and his arms crushed you into his mud-covered chest as you screeched in protest.
As you wondered what had taken Jake so long to return, two children ran into his path and he paused. Looking down, his mouth moved in response to something they had said. The little ones then held out their hands, displaying their digits, and Jake did the same. You heard their squeals of wonder as their tails swished in excitement. Jake laughed as they compared their fingers with his.
He regarded them so fondly as they darted off that a warmth spread in your chest. He shook his head and resumed his walk toward you, grinning when he found you were watching. At one point in time you might have looked away, but the feeling in your chest swelled under his gaze and a smile formed on your lips in return.
“Ma’Jake,” you greeted when he stopped in front of you, one hand hidden behind his back.
“I have something for you,” he said, skipping formalities in his excitement he took your hand between his and placed something in it.
Jake pulled away to reveal a river stone as big as your palm, made round and smooth with its constant movement. The sedimentary layers that striped the stone glittered and the colors almost danced in the sunlight. You wondered, as you rubbed the surface beneath your fingers, if all the tumbling tribulations you faced would make you polished one day too. You looked up at the man who had carried the river stone back to Hometree to give to you. He was pleased, you could tell by his smile.
You would have to find a special spot to place the stone among your belongings. The rack that held your things was becoming crowded with everything Jake had been giving you. Mostly small things, like strings of flowers or the vibrant feather he found while training the day before. However, sometimes his gifts surprised you. He had carved some beads for you out of a beautiful, rich wood and though they weren’t uniform in shape, you treasured them. You knew they must have taken him much patience to complete. The bracelet you had made with them hung around your wrist even when you slept.
Yet, nothing was more surprising than hearing from the women you weaved with that Jake sometimes consulted their wisdom. Their knowing smiles as they giggled among themselves made your cheeks burn, though some did express their disapproval of the matter. You had firmly dismissed it all, but you could feel their watchful eyes on you now as you spoke with Jake and received another gift.
“What is this called in Na’vi?” you asked, holding up your stone. “It is a difficult word for Skypeople.”
Jake scowled, his beautiful smile gone in an instant. “Does everything have to be a lesson?”
“Yes, because I am your teacher,” you squinted teasingly at him, but he was unamused. “Will you not try?” The look he gave you was so dry you gave in with a laugh. “Tskxe.”
“Do you like the… ts-kay?” Jake asked, butchering the word in a way you’ve never heard before.
The eager look on his face returned as he waited for your reply and you smiled widely. “Your priorities are out of order.”
“But do you?”
“Yes,” you finally answered, running your finger over its surface once more. “It is beautiful. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he replied, nodding and looking very satisfied. “What are you working on?” he asked, gesturing down at the ground where you had been sitting.
“None of your business,” you answered quickly, trying to push your basket behind you with your foot. You had forgotten all about what you had been working on before his arrival, and you tried to hide your panic.
You felt in your spirit that he was almost ready, that he would undertake the iknimaya and Uniltaron soon. Eywa had been so faithful and you wanted to make something to mark the achievement. Jake had no family nor a beloved one here to do so and he deserved something that was truly his that he could wear proudly. Leather strips and small stones you had chosen for an armband and matching necklace sat there for Jake to see if he looked. If he saw now, the surprise would be ruined.
Jake’s eyes flicked to the ground again before focusing on your face. “That makes me think it is my business.”
“It is not,” you denied, feigning a calmness you didn’t feel. “There is nothing for you to see.”
Jake smirked down at you, stepping closer. Your heart beat wildly like the wings of an ikran, but you refused to be moved and stood your ground. With another step, he came so close that his chest almost grazed yours. You tilted your chin up to see his face.
“You say you're my teacher, but is that all you are?” His voice was low and his eyes dropped, half-lidded to meet yours.
“No,” you answered with the little strength you could muster and his brow lifted. You swallowed. “We are also friends.”
“Friends…” He said almost like he was tasting the word. He nodded before concluding, “I can work with that.”
You felt dazed as you carried your basket up to your hammock, toiling over when the nearness of Jake started feeling so different. After agreeing with him to meet for the evening meal, you gathered your things and parted ways, heart still pounding.
Though your prayers were being answered with more and more Na'vi warming up to him the longer he lived among you, Jake seemed only to have eyes for you. You thought at first that he was simply a good student, hardworking and strong, spending most of each day with you to learn. He rarely left your side. The silly way he spoke, the way he made you laugh, and his thoughtful actions made you forget that he was free to go where he pleased.
You couldn’t deny that he filled your empty cup and saw you in ways nobody ever had. The thought of what it might mean made your heart twist with nerves and swell with a bone-deep longing. You could never forget how his hands grasped your waist as he sat behind you on your ikran, the weightless feeling having almost nothing to do with flying. You shook your head to clear it, but stopped short with a startled “oh!” as someone came into your path.
Looking up filled you with displeasure.
“I must speak with you.” Lek’ann grabbed your wrist before you could react. Moving quickly, his other hand pressed against your back as he ushered you to a quiet corner of the room. “What is going on between you and Jakesully?” He asked severely, eyes piercing. “Do you not feel shame, Yayotsyìp?”
“Do not call me that,” you hissed, trying to shake his hand from your arm, but his grip tightened.
“Go to the Olo’eyktan at once and ask for Jake to be removed from your responsibility,” he demanded.
“Enough, Lek’ann,” you said firmly. “You spew nonsense. Leave me alone.”
You attempted to push past him but he held you in place. “You must!”
“I will do no such thing,” you stated, twisting free from his grip. “Eywa has put him into my care. Open your eyes, Le’kann. Jake is not the demon you make him out to be.”
He exhaled impatiently. “My eyes are open, they see the truth. They see that there is more than care in your eyes as you gaze upon the intruder,” he accused and your eyes widened. “Tell me! What are your feelings?”
“My feelings are of no concern to you,” you said, regretting having ever looked upon the unsavory man before you with care.
“Can you not see how he corrupts you? I knew this would happen,” he fumed, the beads on his braids mocking you as they swung with his intensity. “For your own good, cut this tie.”
“For my own good?” You scoffed. “Why is it that you suddenly care about me, Lek’ann?”
“It is not sudden, Yayotsyìp,” Lek’ann insisted, reaching a hand up to cup your cheek. “Do as I say.”
“You are a thorn in my side,” you spat, pushing his hand away and his nostrils flared. He gripped your basket as you tried again to leave. Looking down into it lit his eyes with burning fury.
“What is this? Is this for him?” He asked, ripping the basket from your hold and pulling out the half-finished armband. He almost laughed in deranged disbelief. “You are shameless! End this courtship at once!”
“Courtship?” You sputtered, stunned as you grasped for the armband. “Lek’ann, give it back!”
“A Skyperson and Na’vi pairing is an abomination,” Lek’ann snarled, holding your things out of reach. “You have brought disgrace upon yourself. Eywa will surely turn her back on you, if she hasn’t already.”
“Do not use Eywa for your personal gain!” Your voice shook and raised to a shout. “We are not courting, but I would easily choose a Skyperson like Jake over a despicable Na’vi like you!”
He threw the basket to the ground and you gasped as its contents scattered. “Foolish, wanton woman! Are you so desperate for love that you would accept the affections of their kind?”
“You are cruel and heartless!” You screamed, tears pricking your eyes as his words reopened wounds of heartbreak you thought long since healed. “How you deceived Olo’eyktan and Tsahik, I do not know!”
Lek’ann seethed, watching as you stooped down to pick up the materials, desperately chasing the stones as they rolled in different directions. His leg swung back and you anticipated its trajectory, but even before you could snatch the basket to your chest, he faltered.
You looked up to see Jake as he pushed through the crowd of onlookers that had gathered, drawn by the shouting. His eyes scanned the scene before locking on you. His expression darkened and Lek’ann drew back as Jake advanced with powerful steps. Though you were relieved to see him, your stomach dropped, sobbing as your hands shook, hastily hiding the rest of the basket’s contents inside of it.
“Hey, you okay?” Jake asked urgently, crouching beside you. His brow furrowed with concern as tears poured down your cheeks. “You hurt?”
“I am not hurt…I will be okay,” you assured weakly, curling over your basket and squeezing it to your shuddering chest.
“What happened?”
“He thinks we are courting and does not approve,” you explained softly. “Jake, it is best if we leave.”
Jake glanced up at Lek’ann and hesitated, before laying a hand on your shoulder. He shook his head, saying, “No. He’s done enough damage. You go, I’ll catch up."
“Jake, please,” you begged, heart sinking lower. You grasped his hand as he straightened up, turning toward Lek’ann who lowered into a fighting stance, hissing unbecomingly. “Do not add fire to fire. He is not worth the trouble.”
“But you are,” he said, looking at you from over his shoulder and squeezing your fingers. “Go.” The softness of his voice was underscored with a sternness you had never heard from Jake. You knew from the set of his shoulders that any effort to convince him otherwise would be in vain. “Someone’s gotta put him in his place.”
“Jake-,” you attempted and panic filled your hollow chest like a swarm of hellfire wasps as his hand slipped from yours.
“I got this,” he reassured with a nod, turning fully to engage Lek’ann. “Hear me, Lek’ann,” he began and the hand that had held yours gestured back to you. “Leave this woman alone.”
“Who are you to speak for her? Your kind holds no authority here,” Lek’ann spat, ears pressing back. “Demons who prey on the weak.”
They spoke but you barely heard as arrows of dread pierced into you upon realizing that Lek’ann still held Jake’s armband. He crushed it within his fist and it felt like he crushed your heart in its place.
“I defend what’s mine,” Jake stated, taking a step forward.
“And I, mine,” Lek’ann growled and you gasped as he tossed Jake’s armband on the floor beneath him. He drew his knife from its sheath that rested on the small of his back. “Y/n has turned her back against her people. You are the cause.”
Jake scoffed, “You really want to do this?”
“You Skypeople bring only pain and devastation,” Lek’ann accused.
Blood pounded into your ears as your eyes trailed after the armband by Lek’ann’s feet. You searched frantically for it as your view was interrupted by Jake and Lek’ann’s movements. It rolled under Lek’ann’s sidestep and a rush of violent desperation moved your legs forward to save it.
But a hand slid onto your shoulder and another gripped your arm to stop you. Looking back you saw Serunga' who turned you away from the fight.
“What are you doing?” she asked in a loud whisper, eyes frantic.
“You had your chance,” Jake’s voice came from behind you.
“The armband,” you cried, trying to shake out of her grasp.
“Leave it!” Serunga' urged and she pulled you with all her strength. Your feet stumbled as she pushed through the crowd of people. The room began to spin around you in a mess of limbs, shocked faces, Jake, Lek’ann, Serunga' and all of their voices combined into one cacophonous song.
“I'm gonna show her how a real man treats his woman. She'll forget all about your sorry ass. Don't speak to her again," Jake said with finality but his words were overshadowed by Lek’ann’s shrill battle cry. You turned at the sound just as he lunged toward Jake.
“Kehe! Jake!” you yelled over your shoulder as Serunga' ushered you up the spiral, watching as yells filled the air and other hunters attempted to intervene.
“Come. Jakesully will be okay,” Serunga' assured, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and squeezing. “Trust that you have taught him well.”
She led you to the next landing and sat you on the floor, plopping herself beside you. You knew her words were true, but your heart still raced with worry. Serunga' regarded you with her kind eyes and shifted to sit behind you, taking your hair into her hands. You shook with fresh tears as she began braiding.
“Ma’ Y/n?” Serunga' gently inquired after a moment, brushing through a section of your hair with her fingers. She waited until you hummed in response to continue. “Did you hear what Jakesully said to Lek’ann just as we left?”
You shook your head in answer. “He had said many things. They both did.”
Lek’ann’s words stung you deeply but the grief you felt over the loss of the armband you had been working so tirelessly on was immense, even if irrational. You wiped your eyes and began picking through the basket that sat in your lap with a frown, finding the river stone nestled among the other materials. You cradled it and smoothed a hand over it, praying that its giver was not hurt.
“But there was one very important thing.” You heard the excitement in Serunga'’s voice and your brow furrowed. You twisted toward her and saw she was smiling coyly.
“What was it?” you asked, unsure that there was anything to be excited about.
“He called you his woman!”
Your tired heart picked up in your chest and your eyes widened.
“You are surprised?” Serunga' giggled. “ We were all so certain you were already courting, even when you denied it. It was bound to happen, y/n. Though you may not speak of love with Jakesully, both of your actions overflow with it. He will surely ask you soon and you will no doubt say yes. Of this I am certain. Some will disapprove, of course, but I think he is quite handsome for a dreamwalker. I know you think this too.”
Heat rushed to your face as she chattered away and resumed her work on your hair. His woman, Jake’s woman. Had he truly said that? How long had Jake felt this way? How long had you returned his feelings before confronting them today? Deep down you had known and you saw the signs that there was something more, something new and beautiful, and unlike anything you’d known. But were you ready for another courtship? Would it last? Would Jake really stay here for the rest of his life to be with you? Your mind reeled with questions and possibilities, your heart aching with the same longing from earlier for the future you might have with Jake.
You and Serunga' were still sitting on the floor tying leather pieces into bundles and counting stones when Jake appeared. Your hands froze and your breath caught in your throat, scanning him for injury. Color was high in his cheeks and sweat glistened on his brow, but otherwise he looked perfectly fine. Relief flooded through you and you pushed off the ground.
Jake smiled triumphantly when he spotted you coming toward him and you almost ran the rest of the way. You threw your arms around him and he caught you with a huff, squeezing you close. One of his hands moved up your back to cradle your head.
“Thank you, Great Mother,” you breathed, closing your eyes and finding peace in the sound of his heart beating.
“You don’t have to worry about Lek’ann anymore,” he spoke into your hair.
“Do not say his name,” you requested. “You ruin the moment.”
Jake’s laugh rumbled in his chest and he squeezed you impossibly closer, lifting you so your toes only brushed the ground.
“Thank you, Jake,” you added softly.
“Anytime.”
All the worry and fear that had wound up so tightly within you melted away in the warmth of his embrace. He had held you before, but never like this. He was sturdy and strong like a fortress, enveloping you in the feeling of home, one that you would return to again and again. You were filled with gratitude that the blood that rushed through his veins remained unspilled. Jake’s breath tickled your ear when a thought suddenly crossed your mind.
“Did you punch him?” you murmured curiously against his skin.
“Yup,” he replied, resting his cheek on the top of your head.
“Jake….” You tried to sound disappointed though you were secretly very pleased. You lifted your head and pulled back just slightly to see his face. Jake’s smile was unapologetic, eyes crinkling at the corners.
“I only got one swing in before things got out of hand with everyone trying to stop us,” he said, looking a little disappointed. “Someone got Eytukan and it wrapped up pretty quickly after that.”
Your brow shot up at the mention of the Olo'eyktan. “Then what happened?”
“We got a good talking to,” Jake explained, lifting a shoulder in a half shrug. “Nothing I can’t handle. Eytukan let me go after some of the people there backed me up. They saw the whole thing and heard what Lek’ann said to you. He’s in a load of trouble.”
You nodded solemnly, wondering what would become of Lek’ann. Such defensive behavior would not merit exile, but you knew deception would not be tolerated. Eytukan would finally see who Lek’ann was and finally put an end to his machinations.
“And I think this is yours,” Jake added, bringing up a hand to reveal his armband.
You gasped and took it from him, checking over the integrity of the interlaced leather until you were sure it had endured the rough handling. Overjoyed, you found there was minimal damage, nothing you couldn’t mend.
“Is it still none of my business?” he asked, watching you intently as his hands shifted to rest at the curve of your waist.
“It was supposed to be a surprise,” you lamented, holding the accessory against your chest.
“Then I never saw it,” Jake declared with a nod and you beamed up at him.
He smiled back at you with so much affection in his gaze that you could have cried. You felt a sureness in your heart, as it exploded with gratitude and love, that Jake would always be there for you. To fight for you, to comfort you, to hold you, and not just as a pupil nor just a friend. All of your questions and doubts were allayed by the look in his golden eyes. He would stand beside you for all your days if you would have him. And you would.
“Jake,” you said, a bit shyly, eyes dipping away before lifting up again. You shifted your hands from your chest to rest on his. “Now would be a good time to ask to court me.”
