જ⁀➴ neteyam x fem!metkayina!readerˎˊ˗ chapter 1/?
synopsis: when the Sully family arrives at Awa’atlu, the reef people are wary of outsiders. Among them, a curious girl notices the legendary Toruk Makto and his son, Neteyam. Despite the tension between their worlds, a silent connection begins to form as fear, fascination, and unspoken understanding intertwine.
☕︎tags: strangers to something more, longing glances, feelings under the surface, finding excuses to stay longer, subtle flirting, hurt/comfort
☕︎a/n: hello!! i decided to make this one shot a chaptered fanfic. i realised it might take some time to write one shot based on 4k wc summary (its not even everything cri) so i decided to realease this:) please be kind to any errors, its my first fanfiction in english:3
٠࣪⭑credits: all beautiful dividers belong to @uzmacchiato
@whycantichangemyuser @sinistersnakey
On the first day of their arrival at Awa’atlu, they all felt uneasy. The way of water was not a well-known concept to the forest people. Adult warriors, children, and others scanned them with curiosity in their big, blue eyes.
They looked so different. Teal tails contrasted sharply. The reef people were fully adapted to the environment they inhabited, just as the Sully family was to the forest.
So when they walked by, mothers pulled their precious Metkayina-born children closer, afraid of the unknown danger. In spite of that, there was this one girl among the gathered Na’vi.
She looked curious.
Fascination ran through her at the thought alone.
Toruk Makto.
The name caught in her chest, stealing a shallow breath.
The tales were true. He really existed — the legend who used to be a tawtute. Now, he stood before their Olo’eyktan as a Na’vi, together with his family.
Uturu had been asked, in desperation, for sanctuary for their family — and not long after the spoken words, [Reader] slowly grasped their true meaning.
A bloodthirsty rider could bring great danger to their clan — a disaster.
The girl’s attention was also drawn to one boy, who had not gone unnoticed by the reef people’s Tsahìk. He did not have four fingers and had an odd fuzz above his eyes.
He wore a mysterious band around his slim torso, identical to his father’s. She had never seen anything like it, just as no forest person had.
The unknown boy sensed [Reader]’s curiosity. He searched for the eyes tracing him, feeling them pierce through his fatigued body.
Before he could see the person he was looking for, she disappeared into the shadows of the other reef clan members. She was a young warrior, just like the strange boy.
That night, Awa’atlu did not find rest easily. Whispers followed the forest people long after the bioluminescent lanterns dimmed.
Where fear had taken root, curiosity began to grow.
Daylight washed over the Metkayina village, but it could not erase the unease left by the darkness.
Surfacing for a quick breath inside a safe part of the reef, [Reader] squinted as the sun’s rays dazzled her light eyes.
Her speargun was wielded confidently, her hand glued to the weapon. Riding an ilu and a skimwing was an unmatched skill of hers, which she had proven during Iknimaya. That was how she earned one tattoo on her teal-coloured face.
As she aimed the weapon at the finest glider fish — the one that had completed its life cycle — her finger nearly pulled the trigger when she noticed a flat skate fish. She recognized it by the upper split fin being larger than the lower one.
Some air bubbles left [Reader]’s mouth, almost giving her position away.
“Come on…” Sudden energy boosted her confidence in taking this delicacy home.
“Well… maybe I fish as well as Dad?”
“Well, surely not.”
She repositioned.
It was a merciful kill, but not a clean one.
The hunt ended the moment she managed to obtain the fish — an exceptionally rare treat. She was thrilled at the thought of trying it after so many years.
She hauled herself onto the shore, muscles tired but proud. The prize of her hunt was now safely resting in her hands, waiting to be prepared for that evening’s meal. As her fingers skillfully wrapped the fish in broad, greenish leaves, she thought of how proud her father would be.
She was a fighter, not a born fisher.
Mangrove-like trees formed a great home for the Metkayina Na’vi. Each trunk was covered in woven material, creating pods called marui. Today’s atmosphere was uneasy; no one knew how to act around the newcomers.
While [Reader] prepared her unique prize in a cooking pot, she overheard others gossiping about the Sully family.
Some of the reef people made fun of their twiggy tails and slender arms.
“I heard they can barely dive…” some Na’vi chuckled. “How will they contribute? I do not like the idea of them being here! They will bring a storm upon us!”
Part of her knew where this fear came from; it was not entirely unreasonable. They did not belong here.
[Reader] could not bring herself to speak ill of those strangers. Her mother had not raised her that way.
The voices dimmed in the background as [Reader]’s father joined her. She rose, ready to greet him.
“My daughter, there is no reason to get up.” He touched her arm, and she missed her mother’s care. She missed her dearly in moments like these, when she did not know what to do.
“You must be tired.”
“You might be right, this one time.” She traced the necklace she had inherited from her mother. “What do you think… about them? What would Mother say?”
A vacant look crossed her father’s face.
“I think they will bring trouble. It would be best if you ignored their existence.”
He sat beside his only daughter.
His finger pressed lightly over her heart.
“Listen to what your heart tells you. Even if I were angry, I would trust your choices.”
“Thank you. I was genuinely conflicted,” she mumbled. “Hearing everyone gossip is tough. I feel like, no matter what I choose, it could be wrong.”
“Oh, my daughter… sometimes I forget you are not a child anymore.”
A sad, wistful giggle left her mouth. [Reader]’s eyes dropped to the fire.
“Dad, I caught a flat skate fish for tomorrow evening.” She pointed at the cooking pot. “I have no idea how I managed it, but the shot was not clean.”
Their afternoon and evening passed quickly. They spent them together, remembering [Reader]’s mother, whose presence could never be forgotten.
When the sky brightened again, [Reader] had nothing specific to do that day. She remembered the spear she had left unattended for too long and decided to sharpen it.
Not-too-young children wandered around the place she had chosen for herself — a spot meant to be quiet, near the shore.
They played with long wooden sticks, chasing each other, shouting and screaming, hissing whenever someone got hit.
“Tawtute! Skxawng!”
Some of the children laughed in the background, chanting to defeat the sky person.
[Reader] tensed. They were young; maturity did not come quickly. She could feel them bouncing from one leg to another as the woven floor began to stiffen.
At the same time, she focused on sharpening her spear with the Metkayina’s dark blade.
Sudden loud screams reached her ears. She jolted, her ears flattening.
One child almost got pushed into the water. That was it.
She looked down.
Red bloomed along the inside of her hand.
Shit.
A quiet hiss escaped her mouth, her teal thumb pressing harder against the fresh cut.
Every background noise faded, and she no longer heard the children’s laughter or shouts.
Silence rushed in too quickly.
A presence settled behind her, unfamiliar and heavy.
“You’re bleeding.”
The voice was unfamiliar — she could not place it, and then she knew.
[Reader] straightened at once, shoulders squaring. The obsidian blade was still in her hand.
No trouble.
“I said I don’t need your help.”
She did not look up at him yet. Other people were around.
She knew who he must be. The forest shaped features that did not quite fit the reef people.
“I didn’t say you did.”
A pause.
“I only said you’re bleeding.”
That made her glance up despite herself.
He stood a few steps away, careful not to cross some invisible line. Water still clung to his braids, droplets sliding down the bands across his chest. His gaze flicked briefly to her hand, then deliberately away.
Behind him, she noticed the future Tsahìk of the Metkayina with her family — all except her parents.
Not invasive. Observant.
Annoying.
“It’s nothing,” she muttered, lowering her hand. “Just a small scratch.”
Another pause. Longer this time.
“The kids shouldn’t play like that.”
Her jaw tightened.
“They’re children.”
“They’re scared.”
That did it.
She finally turned fully toward him, ears angling back. “And you would know?”
His lips pressed together, something unreadable crossing his face.
“Yes.”
The answer was quiet. Certain.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The reef breathed around them — waves, distant voices, the soft creak of woven platforms.
Then, softer, almost reluctant:
“I’m Neteyam.”
The name settled between them.
[Reader] hesitated. Giving her name felt like giving ground.
“…I know.”
That earned the faintest flick of his ears.
Neteyam was unsure how he felt.
Each time he passed by, moving carefully and observing his surroundings, there were always a few pairs of eyes watching him.
He felt like an intruder — the greatest shadow of his father, Toruk Makto.
This time, he locked glances with a girl, so confidently, as this had never happened before in Awa’atlu.
Tsireya did not count.
Neteyam believed she had taken his family under her wings.
The fierceness radiating from the stranger’s eyes was something he could almost feel, her hair braided at the crown of her head, the rest falling loosely in curls.
After a long moment of silence, she tried to disappear soundlessly.
No words were spoken.
“What a strange one,” he thought.
Neteyam trailed her with his gaze until she left. Quiet steps approached behind him, his ears following the sound.
“I didn’t want to interrupt,” a girl said. “It was [Reader].”
“Tsireya?”
One of her hands brushed his shoulder, her intentions unclear.
“As you know by now, your family is a controversial topic around here.”
The future Tsahìk moved ahead, stopping in front of him.
“I’m sure she meant well. I’ll talk to her.”
After that, she smiled, giving him no chance to respond, and suggested joining the others — curious bystanders, Neteyam’s younger siblings.
As they sat on the stony beach, the sound of water crashing against the rocks, they began learning the Metkayina way — something they had never expected.
How to breathe underwater.
The teal girl inhaled deeply, placing her palm on her chest.
“And breathe out…”
The oldest brother closed his eyes.
A million feelings rushed through Neteyam’s mind as he tried to slow his heartbeat.
Somehow, it felt like a trap.
Focusing on his vitals sent his thoughts spiraling through his latest fears.
The nightmare was something he did not want to experience near others. When he opened his eyes, he noticed Kiri watching him with concern.
Thankfully, his uneasiness hid itself well.
“You must slow down your heartbeat, Lo’ak. It’s still racing.”
Neteyam suddenly grinned, amused at the sight of his younger brother flustered.
Rotxo joined them, immediately understanding the situation.
“What a skxawng,” he thought.
From that moment on, Neteyam realized his brother’s feelings toward the chief’s daughter.
In the evening, bioluminescent lanterns illuminated all the paths of the communal area. The sea cast glimmers through the holes in the woven platforms.
All Na’vi gathered in large circles around the Olo’eyktan and Tsahìk.
For some, it was a magical night.
Neteyam sat beside his parents, his right hand the greatest shadow of Toruk Makto.
The Metkayina chief, Tonowari, chatted animatedly with Jake, while their wives sat in silence, uninterested in conversation.
It was loud — people talked and shouted, danced in circles, even drank something Neteyam had never tasted in the Omatikaya village.
The evening meal was alive.
With boredom, he listened to what his father said to the Olo’eyktan, dullness painted across his face.
“What is she doing?”
Whispers reached his ears.
“Where is she going?”
Neteyam looked up, spotting the same teal girl from earlier.
“[Reader]?” he muttered.
Now blatantly staring, he watched her stop, hesitation crossing her face — then she pushed through.
She lifted her eyes, searching for someone. When she found him, their gazes locked.
Again.
“Neteyam?”
She murmured.
[Reader]’s confidence returned as she approached him.
“It’s for you — because of earlier, forest boy.”
For a moment, the noise of the celebration faded, leaving only the quiet pull of something neither of them yet understood.
All eyes turned toward them.
Tonowari chuckled, while Jake fixed Neteyam with a death stare.
Getting into trouble was something his eldest son had promised not to do.
