@ te’fi te naknat at’saya’ite.
pairing — f!adopted!oc x sully!family
summary — vague backstory on Te’fi for anyone who is interested (and so I don’t forget details), takes place during The Battle of the Hallelujah Mountains and the following year
contains — angst, violence, death, child neglect/abuse
word count — aprox 3.0–4.0k. (excuse any typos)
I remember the day my mother was banished from the Omatikaya. It was just a year after my older sister passed away during the battle of Ayram Alusìng when Hometree had fallen. I don’t remember the battle itself, only being three years of age at the time, but I can recall my earliest memory. My dear beloved mother, covered in flaky ash and boiling burns as tears relentlessly ran down her wounded contorted face, clutching a bundle of scorched lifeless limbs to her chest.
Fortunately, I had come out of it without more than only a bruise, the story of the events having been told to me when I was at an older age. Supposedly, all three of us had been forced out of our home with gas, me in my mother’s arms; my sister Satnim lagging behind and ending up lost. Realising her daughter’s disappearance, I’d simply been shoved in the arms of the first person she’d recognised - the Tsahik - and even as our home had gone up in flames, my mother walked through the fire to save her daughter.
She was not quick enough.
Mother was lost and presumed dead for hours, and I had been orphaned. But as I look back on my first memory, I remember how I had clutched to Tsahik during those hours, refusing to be taken or moved, my infant brain terrified at the length of time I’d gone without my mother’s touch, smell or sweet voice. I remember The People’s sudden and growing gasps and shouts at the far edge of the Tree of Voices, their attention moving from each other to that unforgettable sight of a seemingly stumbling corpse moving through the crowd— cradling her dead and burned child.
Crying with her eyes wild and wide, voice rasping and cracking as it strained against the coat of smoke still coating the inside of her throat, she had dropped to her knees in front of Mo’at as she demanded an explanation from Eywa. She shook Satnim’s limp and unrecognisable body, wailing furiously and begging the woman to help her.
My mother could not understand that she was not the only one who had suffered a great loss. Many of The People were no longer parents, or now had no one to label as such, and the Tsahik could only watch on as she had with all the others who had demanded the same explanation. Other women who had experienced the same loss tried to comfort and console her through her loss, when Mo’at could not find the words, many kneeling beside her and quietening her cries.
What I cannot seem to remember, is a time after that where mother had taken me back and cradled me like I was something precious. Her last and only living daughter. She hardly ever looked at me again afterwards and when she did, it was with distain. But the way Mo’at had held me in that moment, with a tightness and care I’d never feel from my own blood again, I would never forget that.
A year later, she finally snapped. And that I can remember as clear as day, no matter how much I wish I did not.
“Eat, child. Or you will starve.” The words should hold care and concern, but they do not as they are sharp and loveless, as if making sure my belly is full is some boring chore.
The People surround a fire and eat, as we do every night, something my mother also treats like a chore. Ever since that day, she has not been the same, not that I remember much of what she was like before; only that I once associated her with love and affection. Not anymore. I can only see her as a woman who brings me much pain and sadness. I know most of the clan feel that way too. Only their’s has been slowly changing, turning into hatred and anger.
“I am not hungry,” I whisper, staring down at my bowl. For as long as I can remember I have felt sad, unwanted and more of a burden on my mother rather than a blessing. These feelings never have worked up much of an appetite for me, instead making the thought of food a sickening thing. Maybe it is because when I do eat, she scowls and turns her lip up at me like watching me keep myself alive is offensive and repulsive to her.
Not that it matters much, she looks at me that way no matter what I do.
She grumbles low in her throat, her hand slamming down on the back of my neck, pushing my body down low until my face is inches away from my bowl on the floor. I whimper, her fingers digging into the sides of my throat either such force I truly believe in this moment that the claws of a Palulukan would be gentler.
“Eat now, or you will not eat at all,” she growls through her grinding teeth, voice rumbling in her throat.
A woman behind us speaks hushed as to not cause anymore unnecessary attention, noticing the nearby wandering eyes and perked ears. “At’saya— gentle, she is only a child, please.”
My Mother turns her head slow over her shoulder, eyes narrowed and voice edged with warning. “Is she your child, Katni?”
The woman exhales shortly, brows furrowed as her eyes flick to the back of my small bent body. She does not answer, concluding it is not her place to speak up.
Mother’s breath, as hot as her fury, beats at my ear. “No,” she spits hushed and harsh, “because Eywa cursed me with you!”
Some of those nosy enough to eavesdrop, glare at the woman or simply swish their tails in disbelief, a couple having to catch their breath in their lungs to keep their nearly audible shock at bay. She is lucky that the musicians songs are able to help keep her display of neglect sheltered.
However my temper cannot stand that fact, body moving before I can stop myself, adrenaline coursing through my body and to my arms as they fly up to the side of her ribs and push her with every ounce of energy I had. Unfortunately, a young child does not hold much strength and all it accomplished was causing her to lose her balance for a short moment. I stumble to my feet and hiss pitifully at her, cracking into something short of a broken cry.
Over a year it took me to gain such courage to stand up to her. And by Eywa it did nothing other than make things worse.
She hardly moves a centimetre before I - terrified - scurry to stand behind Katni. Without hesitation, she immediately stands to her feet, moving an arm behind her back as her hand finds the side of my head. My mother is swift and threatening as she stands off with the woman, chest bumping with hers. With this, others have stood to their feet, wary of a fight breaking out.
“I warn you woman, move.” She leaves no room for argument, yet Katni’s hand does not waver on my scalp, a high hiss leaving her mouth. “You are cruel to this child, and you plan to be even crueler— I will not let you,” Katni announces, though she sounds unsure of herself. It is clear she is not used to standing up to others. I think she is brave.
Before Mother can even open her mouth a familiar voice erupts from the opposite side of the fire. “What is the meaning of this!”
Before I can think, I bolt from behind Katni, aching to be as close as possible to the woman I have always felt safe with. My mother reaches out to me with a grunt, but she is not quick enough, my small frame weaving through The People’s legs and around the bodies of those still sat. Moving around the fire, I spot her stood beside her family, and when I reach her I hug her legs so so tight, scared she might force me to let go.
She does not, instead resting her hand against the back of my head, sighing softly. “Tam tam, ‘evi,” she soothes, voice thick only with comfort and warmth. I do not realise how hard I am panting, how deathly scared I am by the look I had seen in my mother’s eyes.
“Te’fi—! You will come back here, you will obey me!”
I do not dare look behind me, only clinging harder to Mo’at’s shawl with the quiet slip of a whimper. “She will do no such thing, At’saya,” Tsahik says, tone outstandingly calm and level.
However the woman does not back down, if anything she sees a challenge before her. “That is my only child you keep from me, Tsahik,” she puts emphasis on each syllable of that last word, disgust dripping from her tongue. “Continue to do so, and I might just forget how important your life is to The People.”
A hiss comes from beside me as someone stands to their feet, quick to defend the woman I clutch onto. “You threaten ma sa’nu?” Her voice cuts through the air, sharp yet steady. The People follow, becoming restless as a few hoot and yip, taking such aggression against their Tsahik personally.
“I threaten the woman who keeps my daughter from me—!”
“Alright— enough!” The silence that falls over The People is instant, as Toruk Makto makes his stand. “Enough, okay?” His voice becomes hushed as he speaks to his mate, one of his hands hovering above her very rounded belly. “Baby, be careful please, just— watch out for the kids.”
The Tsahik’s daughter huffs, “I am, Jake.”
Through teary eyes I look up at the Tsakerem as the Olo’eyktan guides a little girl, much younger than me, next to her brother who both stand behind their mother. I look back up at the woman who catches my gaze for just a second, eyes softening and ear flicking back as she does.
“Ah, the big and mighty Toruk Makto, you will defend this child snatcher?” Mother taunts him, tone daring.
The Olo’eyktan lets out a humourless huff, “she doesn’t look very snatched to me. She came over here on her own accord. Tends to happen when kids are scared.”
She only becomes more agitated as her accusations are shot down. “Just— give me back my daughter!”
I turn my head and finally look back at my mother as she stands behind the fire, the flames obscuring half her body from my sight. “Sa’nok, please...” my little voice hardly carries across space, but it reaches her, her wide eyes meeting my teary ones.
She tilts her head slow and I truly cannot recognise her anymore. “Come here,” she demands, voice flat and void of any emotion.
My lip quivers and I realise I have run out of any courage I previously had as my fingers uncurl from the Tsahik’s shawl and I begin to pull my small frame away. She does not force me to stay put but her hand feels heavier than it did before against my head.
Before I can even take a step back, the Olo’eyktan’s mate soundlessly steps in front of me with a sharp exhale. “You hurt this girl At’saya, breaking the most sacred bond there is between mother and child—” she pauses, voice strained as if my mother’s actions physically pain her. “We have given you many many chances; The People try to be understanding of your grief, but you—“
“You… know nothing of my grief!” She screeches, tail swishing violently behind her, fingers curled towards her palms like claws, body twitching uncontrollably. “If I could go back— if I could trade that skxawng’s pitiful life for ma Satnim’s, I would do it in a heartbeat— it is her fault! Her fault she is gone! I— too focused making sure you were not dead— I should have just left you to become apart of the flames.”
The Olo’eyktan’s breath is sharp as he steps froward, as are his words. “Sounds more like it was your fault. And I think you know that.” Before she can even register his words, he raises his voice, “we are supposed to grieve together, live together and protect our young. You’ve done none of that, and I won’t stand for it anymore. You reject the way of The People and cause disruption throughout the clan.” His next words are thoughtful and final, and they leave a hole in my heart. “I hoped it wouldn’t have to come to this… but you are not seen here anymore, At’saya. Not as Omatikaya.”
For the first time in my life, I see real surprise in my Mother’s eyes, shortly followed by fear when it seems that The People completely turn on her, looking at her as nothing more than an intruder. “You cannot—“ breathless, she steps back with wide eyes and a trembling lip. “You banish me? The same way you banished Ateyo and Artsut? Do you take pride in banishing grieving parents, Toruk Makto—?”
Toruk Makto’s voice cracks only slightly through it’s booming, “you do not come back, you hear?”
I watch through a blur of tears as she is practically forced out, a select few of the most respected warriors crowding her, scaring her off with simply their intimidation and yips. She does not look at me as she is banished and that makes the pain of losing her hurt just a little less.
Finally looking up, I meet the eyes of Mo’at, whose warm gaze did not falter as she held me gently. “You will be alright now, ‘evi. Do not cry.”
The People begin to settle, gossiping amongst themselves in shock. “I never thought I’d have to do that again,” the Olo’eyktan murmers with a steady sigh, meeting his mate’s eyes. She tilts her head slightly before looking down to me, to which he follows. I turn my face into the Tsahik in response, shy under their gaze, causing her to hum comfortingly.
“Ma Jake…” I hear the mated pair beside me whispering.
A stern tone is etched in his words as he murmurs, “Neytiri—“
“We already have two, and we are about to have three,” he cuts her off, soft yet also firm. “She will go with the others, and be cared for by the elders, like every other kid who have lost their parents.”
“She has not lost like the others. Jake, she has suffered… she needs a true and stable home—“
The Olo’eyktan does not budge. “And we will find her one, I promise.”
Mo’at chuckles heartily, patting my head affectionately as she quips into their conversation. “Perhaps this discussion should be kept for another time. I do not believe the little one will budge for the time being.”
There is a quiet shuffle next to me and I peak over one of my fists against Mo’at’s hip. Neytiri crouches before me, offering the gentlest look of affection I don’t believe I have ever been offered before. I take in her face and blink slowly, unsure how to react to such a simple display of unfamiliar affection.
“Sweet child…” she almost sings at me, voice soft and smooth like the silkiest of petals. Giving me a kind smile she greets me sweetly, “oel ngati kameie.”
I swallow thickly, my breath steadying and shoulders drooping, struggling to tear my eyes away from her big beautiful ones. In awe, I whisper back, “oel ngati kameie,”
A/N: slightly rushed at the end, I tried to make it readable for those who might actually be interested but, I’m mostly treating this as a vague document for her backstory. It’s my first OC and relatively new so I might make drastic or just small changes in future!
