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Tempered by Water - 01 Shipwreck

𝓟𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰: Recom!Miles Quaritch x Metkayina!Reader

𝖥𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖬𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗐𝗈𝗄𝖾 𝗎𝗉 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒, 𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝖽𝗂𝖿𝖿𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗂𝗍 𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌. 𝖧𝗈𝗐 𝗌𝗆𝗈𝗈𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇 𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗍, 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗅𝗎𝗌𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗌𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗇𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗌. 𝖠𝗇𝖽 𝗇𝗈𝗐, 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖼𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝗂𝗇 𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗆𝗒 𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗒 a𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖾𝗋𝖼𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖭𝖺’𝗏𝗂 - 𝖺𝗇 𝗈𝗅𝗈’𝖾𝗄𝗍𝖺𝗇’𝗌 𝖽𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗋.

𝖮𝗋

𝖶𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖰𝗎𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖲𝗉𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝖺𝗌𝗁 𝗎𝗉 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗋𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖪𝗑𝗈𝗋𝖺’𝗏𝖺 𝖼𝗅𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝖺𝗍 𝖳𝗁𝗋𝖾𝖾 𝖡𝗋𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖱𝗈𝖼𝗄𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗎𝗉 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖺 𝗍𝗌𝖺𝗁𝗂𝗄 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀.

𝘢/𝘯: 𝘩𝘪𝘪𝘪 𝘺'𝘢𝘭𝘭! 𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱 𝘰𝘧 𝘛𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘞𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳. 𝘔𝘺 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘐𝘯𝘬𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘈𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘢𝘳 𝘴𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘴 <3 𝘗𝘭𝘶𝘴, 𝘌𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘪𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 - 𝘯𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵. 𝘑𝘒 𝘈𝘕𝘠𝘞𝘈𝘠𝘚 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘢 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘔𝘊 - 𝘐𝘸𝘶. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧-𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘵, 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘔𝘊 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘣𝘰𝘹 - 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢𝘴 𝘔𝘊 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘬𝘶𝘳𝘶, 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘔𝘦𝘵𝘬𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘢, 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘪𝘵. 𝘐'𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘠/𝘕 - 𝘯𝘰 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘤𝘶𝘱 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘦𝘢.

𝘈𝘓𝘚𝘖 𝘉𝘐𝘎 𝘞𝘈𝘙𝘕𝘐𝘕𝘎: 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘪𝘴 18+. 𝘐 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘝𝘌𝘙𝘠 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘦. 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘬!

𝘱.𝘴 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘪𝘧 𝘰𝘧 𝘘𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘺 𝘑𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘦 𝘪𝘳𝘭

𝘌𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳!

tw: descriptions of blood; wounds; swearing

𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬-𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐚𝐝: 𝐓𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫

cross-posted on AO3: Tempered by Water

word count: 3.5k

✧𝖦𝗅𝗈𝗌𝗌𝖺𝗋𝗒✧

Aranahe — Weaver clan

Sarentu — Storytelling traveler clan

fkxile — Beaded top

kame’tire — Healer clan

kreytu’um — Jellyfish-like flying animal

kxan’epe — Extremely strong alcoholic drink from an overseas Na’vi tribe

kxaylkxa — Rhino-like creature (Bladehead)

olo’ekte — Olo’eyktan in training

rimo’a — Flying animal

skxawng — Idiot; fool

Syìl — Deer-like creature (Meerdeer)

tawtute — “Sky people”; sky demons

tewng — Loincloth

Tlalim — Nomadic clan traveling by flying gondolas

tsakarem — Tsahìk in training

Zeswa — Flatlands warrior clan

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙊𝙣𝙚: 𝙎𝙝𝙞𝙥𝙬𝙧𝙚𝙘𝙠

The only thing Spider could hear was the soft hiss of his exopack as he struggled to take in labored breaths. The ocean floor was dark, save for the occasional flash of light from the raging inferno above.

The bioluminescence so typical of Pandora was absent, his only hope of natural light extinguished. Limp flora smacked into the exopacks strapped to his life jacket. The plants no longer glowed mutely like starlight - just as dead as the ship's passengers. The sea life had long left, the occasional unlucky fish caught in the aftermath floating towards the surface, belly-first.

The screech of metal collapsing broke the silence.

Spider grunted as he hoisted the dead weight at his back, the shipwreck casting ominous shadows on his painted skin. His feet sunk into the soft sand, small shrapnel and rock digging holes into the rough flesh of his soles. He swore he could see shadows dart past him in the murky depths, his flashlight long forgotten.

But how could there be anyone there but him and Quaritch?

Everyone else was dead.

The only other survivors were stuck inside the ship.

His family.

And here he was, hauling the recom's heavy bulk, scrambling to reach a clearing in the carnage, a break to the surface.

Instead of saving them.

The Sully family was all he'd ever known, his biological parents long gone.

His mother, a woman whose name he'd never learned, had died at the battle of Hell's Gate.

And his deadbeat father?

Not so dead, after all.

The heavy drag of Quaritch's boots against the sand, sinking and resisting any movement, reminded him of that fact.

Maybe the deadbeat would live to his namesake soon enough, should Spider fail to find a way up. Free Spider from the torment of their connection to each other.

Finally, a clearing in the wreck, light from the moons breaking through the surface of the water, snuffed out that fleeting thought.

With one last heaving breath, Spider hauled Quaritch further up and wrapped his fingers around the older man's vest. His other hand found purchase on the string dangling from his life jacket, and with one hard tug, it inflated. Slowly, they ascended, leaving the shipwreck below.

But, as they broke the surface, with Quaritch dragging in a pained, wet breath, the sea churned around them. Pandora was known for its frequent rain and storms, and now it was living up to its reputation. The waves slammed against them, forcing them underwater.

Spider's eyes were once again gazing at the dead bodies below, floating, waiting to become part of Pandora.

"Shit."

He would make sure they didn't find the same fate.

With a strained tug, they surfaced once more, the smack of the icy droplets shocking against Spider's scalp. Even with his visor protecting his eyes from the rain, he could not see anything, rivulets of water dragging down the glass surface.

Quaritch had drifted in and out of consciousness, his body still the dead weight it was minutes before.

No matter how hard Spider tried to look, he could not find any solid surface to hold onto. So, he swam as hard as he could, hauling the older man's bulk behind him.

But the waves were brutal, slamming against them and forcing them down into the icy depths, dragging them back with every labored surface.

Soon, they'd find the shore, Spider thought. That was his last thought before the water crushed them, the back of his head slamming against the rough edge of a rock.

Iwu's fingers worked deftly, weaving a shiny pearl onto soft string, wrapping the tendrils tight around the bead. She pulled the string taut, winding it around her fingers and biting down on the material, tightening the knot. It was like a ritual for her - sitting inside her family's marui during storms, listening to the violent lull of the sea while weaving garments for the children. The freedom of solitude was a pleasure she could rarely afford.

Her clan, the Kxora'va, were currently sharing kxan'epe with the Tlalim in the communal marui. The wind traders' kreytu'um were safely asleep in an alcove deeper on the island, the rimo'a hidden beneath tarps to keep them protected from the storm.

It was quite the sight, and even though Iwu had seen the nomadic clan before, she was far too young back then to remember anything. Anything other than the colorful beads sold at the weavers' stalls, that is.

This time, they'd brought far less than before - an observation made not by Iwu due to her lack of memory, but rather by her parents.

The tsahik and olo'ektan had reminded her quite fondly of the way she'd stumbled about the gondola with her brother, touching and pinching every shiny thing her small hands could reach.

It was during this reflection that they came to the grim realization that even the wind traders were affected by the Sky People.

Their beads lacked the shine they once had, a result of the oil refineries churning dirty water that polluted all that it touched. The exotic fruit and meat - easily spoiled.

Only garments woven by the Aranahe were in abundance, the weaver clan upholding their yearly quota of colorful tewng and beaded fkxile.

Even still, the Tlalim brought tales of victory against the tawtute, the western front holding their own against the onslaught of human hordes.

Whispers of Na'vi using sky demon metal spread through the clan, and by the end of the day, they had reached even the children's ears. Iwu wanted to learn more, hear more about the Sky People's weapons - no matter how unbecoming it was for a tsakarem to even think about that.

However, she did not feel particularly inclined to join in the celebration, not yet.

While kxan'epe and stories were as tempting as a ride out with her spirit sister outside the reef, Iwu was far more tempted by the opportunity provided in the chaos.

The arrival of the wind traders signified great festivities, and that's just what she needed - enough distraction for her to slip away and spend time on her own.

Iwu slipped the final bead on the shiny string, her fingers working deftly and tying it into a thick knot. She gently laid down the fkxile, stepping back to admire her work.

While her parents would call this a distraction from her duties, she loved the peace it brought her to weave her emotions into something useful for her people. It was her one way of feeling in control since the Sky People's return - and she needed it desperately.

And besides, Ko'ara would love it - the child had always been fascinated with corals and pearls, especially the ones often found in Ta'unui waters.

Iwu allowed herself a brief moment of pride, before she bottled it up and stowed the garment into the small pocket woven into her tewng. One hand scooped up a basket full of fruit, the other gathered the marui's curtains, pulling them back just enough for her to slip out quickly.

Her time of solitude had ran out - she had to join the festivities and present herself as the ever dutiful daughter, the perfekt tsakarem. Perhaps indulge in some roasted Syìl, should she find the opportunity to do so.

Eclipse was barely visible in the sky, the twin moons and Polyphemus obscured by dark clouds. The ocean churned, angry waves slamming against golden sand. Breeze carrying the scent of rain whipped against Iwu's face, drenching her in water. She reveled in the feeling, her eyes closing in bliss at Eywa's angry caress.

Shifting the basket at her hip, she padded down the woven pathway.

The sounds of her people's laughs, mingled with the Tlalim's traditional drums, drifted on the salty air. It floated towards her ears, reminding her of peaceful times long gone.

Before the Sky People returned, clans had traveled freely. The Sarentu storytellers, the Zeswa warriors, the Kame’tire healers — their visits had once marked the seasons. Iwu remembered sitting cross-legged at her grandmother’s knee, allowed to be a child for one evening.

She'd listen, enamored, to stories of the first Toruk Makto, of the first Tulkun songs.

The thump of drums picked up pace, and an old tune sung by the former tsahik, her grandmother, spilled between her lips. It drowned in the storm's roar, the beat of the drums mingling with it, the lilting melody audible only deep in her bones.

It was moments like these, when Iwu was truly alone, where she could let her guard down and make mistakes.

And a mistake she made, her foot slipping on the wet ropes below.

Iwu yelped, the old tune swallowed by her surprise, and stuck her arms out to steady herself. The basket tumbled out of her hold, spilling its colorful contents into the murky ocean waters.

She repressed a groan, covered her face, and took a deep, steadying breath. Then, Iwu looked down, straining to see where the fruit had drifted off to. The rain dripping into her eyes made the task infinitely more difficult. She swiped a hand over her eyelids, trying to shield herself from the watery onslaught.

When Iwu finally had a clear view of the ocean below, she swallowed a scream, stumbling backwards intentionally this time. The wind roared alongside her thundering heart, her feet moving her far away from what was hidden under the woven pathway.

Below her, in the churning waters, was a Sky Person. His small, pink hand, curled around a bundle of straps. He was unmoving, save for the violent push and pull of the ocean.

Iwu watched his hair whip around him, her eyes tracing his tiny features - the blue markings marring his skin, his clearly Na'vi tewng, and the mop of blonde, braided hair. A weirdly colored fkxile, inflated like a kreytu'um, had been strapped to his chest. Her eyes snagged on the demon technology strapped to his face, the transparent bead encapsulating his face fogging up with his breaths.

He was alive.

Iwu had a choice to make - she could continue what she was doing, fruit be damned, and enjoy some kxan'epe with her family.

She could leave the tawtute to his fate.

It wasn't like the Sky People wouldn't do the same to her.

Perhaps they would do her the courtesy of shooting her with one of their metal beads, ending her suffering.

A small mercy.

The Sky People had taken everything her people had offered, and more. They'd pillaged Na'vi settlements, killed the People. Reduced their forests to mere ash, left their waters a poisonous trap, a watery grave for anyone foolish enough to swim in the filth.

They'd taken trophies.

Iwu's hand curled around her wrist, the absence of her songcord a painful reminder of a past she didn't want to remember.

She could take from them now, one small step towards revenge. A tawtute in Kxora'va would only bring pain. Wherever the Sky People tread, they left rot in their wake. The smell of charred Na'vi flesh wormed itself into her mind, reminding, warning her of lessons learned.

Or, she could save him. Be better than the tawtute and their demon ways. Follow the will of Eywa - the ways of the Tulkun. Heal this broken person, help him find his way among the people.

But the time for teaching the Sky People the Na'vi way was over. They'd taken all they could and more - after all, one could not fill a cup that is already full.

And so, Iwu whirled on her heels, trying not to slip, as she rushed towards the communal marui. She'd tell her parents, bring them to the tawtute so they could make a decision. Take the pressure of his fate off her shoulders.

Iwu ran, her feet gliding along the wet ropes woven beneath her, the marui looming on the small hill above. Soft light tempted her inside, a Tlalim's silhouette showing through the thin walls of the pod. They swayed to the beat of the drums, the deep bass of a Zeswa instrument guiding their clapping hands.

She was so close to entering, the smells of roasted herbs and kxaylkxa tickling her nose.

But...

Iwu stopped dead in her tracks.

The tawtute. He was a child - much like the human children she'd seen in her childhood. The pinkskin was young, and he was clearly wearing Na'vi clothes. She couldn't deny that the tewng he wore bore resemblance of the Omatikaya weave. Couldn't lie that the blue markings lining his skin didn't look drawn with love and care.

The communal marui's flaps stirred in the violent breeze, sounds of laughter and drunken singing slipping past their protection.

Iwu made her decision - she wouldn't let a child die. Not under her watch - tawtute or not.

As much as she hated them.

The run back to her family's marui took longer than expected, the steep incline of the woven pathway hindering her attempts at staying steady. The wind whipped against her face, rain pouring into her eyes and making seeing where she was stepping even more difficult.

Iwu slipped once more, but this time caught herself far earlier, continuing her mad dash to the possibly dead human child.

She reached the tawtute, who hadn't moved from his previous position - his mask had fully fogged up by now, his breaths coming out spotty.

Iwu grit her teeth and sank down into the ocean, the icy water lapping at her calves and leaving salty streaks in its wake. The boy's torso pressed against her skin, and she hissed at how cold he felt - almost as cold as the waves slamming against her shins.

Blue hands found small pink shoulders, tugging and pulling. The weird, brightly colored fkxile wound around his neck had caught on a root below, and she tore at the black bindings holding it together. It would not budge, and neither would the dead plant it was tangled into.

Iwu dug into her tewng's pocket, pulling out the tiny bone knife she used for weaving, and started cutting the straps. With one final flick of her wrist, the neon fkxile slid free, and the tawtute sank below the surface. The abandoned fruit bumped against his body, covering the tiny boy, as if willing to protect him from whatever fate awaited him.

Iwu pushed the colorful buds away, winding her arms around his torso and throwing him over her shoulder. The child slumped, unconscious, his hands barely reaching her lower back.

Her eyes snagged on the black straps he'd been holding seconds before, floating in the water, and then she reached out, picking them up. They were connected to the same clear bead, clearer than amber, rimmed with demon metal.

Iwu turned them around in her hand, clicking her tongue at the foul feel of the forbidden material beneath her skin. She contemplated throwing the face beads away, but the child had been holding onto them for dear life. So, she reluctantly hooked them onto her tewng, hoisting the tawtute further up her shoulder.

The crunch of wet sand hit her ears, her head swiveling to catch whoever saw her saving a sky demon. But, no matter how hard she looked, the rain kept pooling into her eyes, and the weight of the pinkskin, while not overwhelming, was starting to get to her. The intruder made no other sound, and Iwu came to the conclusion that she was merely hearing things.

The cold permeating the tawtute's skin seeped into hers, and with a resigned grunt, she climbed up on the woven path once more, hastily retreating back to her family's marui.

It didn't matter if anyone had caught her - what was done was done. She would face the consequences of her actions after eclipse, anyway. Possibly earlier - depending on when the olo'ektan and tsahik would return from the feast.

Quaritch walked toward the Na'vi woman, his boot catching on a rock. He stumbled, the stitch in his side flaring into an inferno of pain, and he had to stop himself otherwise he would scream.

The alien whirled, her eyes skimming over him, unable to see due to the heavy rain, and then climbed onto the woven ropes. Spider swung from her shoulder, unconscious and limp, his exopacks hooked on her loincloth.

The recom lifted a shaking hand to his bruised and bloody ribs, clutching hard at the frayed flesh below. With gritted teeth, he continued his pursuit of the woman that had taken his son.

The harsh rain ran down his face, mixing with the blood seeping from his cuts, but he didn't have the luxury of caring. Quaritch blinked through the intrusion, his eyes never straying from the blue form running along the woven ropes.

His feet dragged in the sand, one ankle hanging limp in its socket, twisted at an odd angle. His breaths came out in short whistles of pain, concealed behind his teeth. A punctured lung, perhaps.

A few broken ribs, most certainly.

Quaritch could feel blood seep in between his fingers, running down his wrist and mingling with the salty water running down his forearm. Still, he did not allow himself to make a noise, the storm his roaring savior as it swallowed the steady drag of his feet.

The chase was agonizing, every step a reminder of his injuries, and Quaritch could feel himself grow weaker with every movement. But, the Na'vi was also slow, the ropes beneath her feet slippery.

Both of them were at a disadvantage, but he knew his limits.

And how to overcome them.

He pushed through, forcing his battered body to move faster, farther.

He was close, so close. Close enough to see her tail swish in agitation, the adornments wrapped around it swaying with the movement.

His boot caught on another rock, however, and this time he fell, his knees hitting the sand hard enough to dig into his flesh through the fabric of his cargo pants. He yowled, shoving his fist in his mouth before he revealed his location more than he already had.

The woman's head whipped around once again, the beads in her hair clinking violently with the movement, and Quaritch forced himself to go utterly still.

He hoped to whichever God could hear him that the shadows would be dark enough for him to stay hidden. She stayed there, her eyes snagging on him and squinting. For a few charged moments, neither of them moved, and then she clambered inside a weird, colored tent.

Closing herself in with his son.

Adrenaline pulsed through his veins, fear of losing Spider pumping in sharp bursts.

Quaritch gulped in a breath and rose swiftly, uncaring of the burning pain stabbing his side and ankle. His hand moved from the mangled flesh on his ribs, grabbing the woven pathway, his other following suit. Hoisting himself up, the recom ducked as much as his screaming ankle would allow him, his hand gripping the hilt of his gun.

He had no way of knowing whether it still worked or not - the water could've done irreparable damage to it and he would be none the wiser.

But neither would the Na'vi.

The fear of human metal struck deep in the aliens, and in his experience, the few seconds of primal terror were all he needed to incapacitate an obstacle. It would take him way less now, considering the situation Spider had unconsciously found himself in.

So, with one last hissing breath, Quaritch violently swung open the curtains. The Na'vi woman froze, her hands hovering over Spider's unconscious form, sprawled atop a woven mat.

The recom whipped out his gun, training it directly at her, and, his voice hoarse, commanded:

"Move away from the kid."

However, the alien did not react fast enough, and the thought of pressing the trigger and getting it over with passed through Quaritch's head.

Odds of it being jammed be damned.

But he wouldn't find out whether the gun was jammed or not, because darkness descended upon him, sapping him of all the fight he had.

His body shuddered violently, his ankle finally giving out. The adrenaline had left his system - Na'vi bodies worked differently, he realized, the voice in his head sardonic.

The weapon clattered to the ground, the sound reaching his ears and sounding soft, muted.

That was all the Na'vi woman needed.

She grabbed a wooden instrument and charged towards him, her face contorted in fury. Quaritch's hand shot out, grasping weakly to protect himself from the inevitable hit.

But to no avail.

The weapon struck true - the sheer force of the blow whipped his head to the side, the thump of his skull against the woven floor the last thing he heard before darkness consumed him.

a/n: I can't believe I had the balls to post this! I hope you guys enjoyed it, feel free to share your thoughts!! 🩵🩵🩵

Credits: Divider by @/saradika

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