#itu

[saelrum]

The fact that Itu looks shorter than everyone else in this game is sending me

[niolo-tamtey]

Light Painting

Commissioned piece from the talented @kubarijo

They worked so fast! And took my idea and made it even better!!

Definitely recommend them for commissions and will be requesting more from them!

There will be a one-shot fic of Nìolo and Itu inspired by this amazing piece!

[imobbsessedsstuff]

Blood & Bond

Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.6

Summary: Etuwa has become (Name)’s teacher. But when it comes to hunting, (Name) must learn through another. Let’s just say the first day didn’t go so well.

(A/N: to those who wanted to be tagged I will tag you in the next chapter)

“I see you.”

Etuwa said the words slowly. As if speaking to a child. (Name) let out a nervous breath.

“Ole natie kameie…?” (Name) cringed at her words. Knowing she said the words wrong.

“It is ok, maybe I’m speaking too fast.” Etuwa was teaching you the Na’vi language. You know many languages, Spanish, Arabic, Chinese, French- and even Māori. But for some reason, you struggle speaking Na’vi. The dialect was…. Well alien to you.

Completely different from languages on earth. Maybe that’s why you were struggling so hard.(or maybe you need to stop staring at Etuwa and actually listen to her.)

“Let us try an easier way.” Etuwa held her hands up to her ears.

“Ears”

(Name) was hesitant before doing the same, her hands reaching her ears.

“Ears.”

Etuwa smiled.

“Yes! Yes! Good. Now—”

Many of the people in Hometree were not happy about the Dreamwalker that resides in Hometree now.

You get wired looks, anytime the kids try to follow you they get pulled back from their parents. Whispers go around, you assume it’s about you, obviously.

You didn’t want to be here yourself. Now that you’re alive and healthy (minus the pain in your side. Still having that deep cut right there.)

You just want to see your daughter again. Hug her and smother her with kisses.

“Your mind is elsewhere.” Etuwa’s voice broke you out of your train of thought.

“Sorry… when exactly can I go to the resistance? It’s been a few days now…” you had hopeful eyes that made Etuwa frown a little in pity.

“When you are ready. When you are able to see.”

Your brow raised.

“See what?”

Etuwa smiled a little. You were so clueless it was cute sometimes.

“When the time comes you will know. Now, let us get back to where we left off.”

“Ah! Come child. Koranu has finished the clothing for you.” Sa’nop eagerly ushered you into the cocoon like hut. You looked up to see Koranu who stepped back from a display of clothing and looked back at you.

You noted how her tail swayed higher, and ears slicked back. You might be slow with the Na’vi language. But body language is the same no matter what species.

Koranu did not like you. Which is no surprise, she only seems to be playing nice for her father.

“Ma Koranu, she is the most talented weaver in hometree! Our best!”

Koranu was a little surprised by her father’s words, suddenly feeling shy.

“Father…”

She spoke in an embarrassed tone.

The moment between the two made you smile. A parents pride for their child is something you know very well.

Cora is a smart and creative girl. And so gentle. Nothing like you.

“Thank you.”

You manage to say the words, but not without sounding like a baby speaking its first words. Sa’nop smiled and placed a hand on your shoulder. Urging you to put the Na’vi clothes on.

You were hesitant.

Sa’nop left to fetch ingredients for dinner. While Koranu helped (Name) get into the Na’vi clothes.

You struggled a little to put the clothes on. You know when you were a kid and didn’t know which hole to put your arm or head through?

Yeah, that sort of struggle.

Koranu had to hold back an eye roll as you accidentally put your head through the arm hole.

“You are hopeless. Like a baby.”

Koranu lets out a heavy sigh. She walked to you and began to help you fit the top on. Not without noticing the scars on the back of the dreamwalker. They looked new. Large ones at that.

Koranu stared at the scars a little longer. The clothes you had on showed the scars clearly.

By the look of the way you kept moving your shoulders to make the feathers move to the back to at least cover a little bit on your back.

Koranu’s ears slick back,

“Was this the sky people’s doing?”

Your head tilted to the side. Not looking directly towards the young Na’vi woman.

You slowly nod. Mumbling the word ‘punishment’ even though Koranu wouldn’t understand.

Koranu sighed. These scars will have more whispers going around the clan if she lets you walk out the cocoon like this.

Koranu grabbed a shawl from a rack on the far right next to her grandfather’s old bow. She wrapped it over the dreamwalker, taking a step back. Looking up and down.

It didn’t look back. But Koranu might need to make another top for the dreamwalker. The style of the top doesn’t fit with the shawl.

“…thank you.”

You spoke in broken Na’vi. Causing Koranu to sigh. By the great mother she hopes you don’t keep speaking like a baby.

“Hunting, is important. For you to hunt. You must learn how to use our bows. Come.” Etuwa hurried you to follow her on a path.

Your eyes wondered around your surroundings. Pandora truly was beautiful. The green was everywhere. You’re used to being surrounded by green. Green screens and green uniforms. Green wall.

But this green?

It was beautiful. Not bland, or empty. It was just, beautiful.

You soon realized you were falling behind Etuwa and quickly caught up to the Tsahik.

“What are those called?” You pointed at a creature that looked similar to a monkey in your eyes.

“Syaksyuk.”

The Syaksyuk looked at you before letting out a small noise and swung off one branch to another.

The two walked the path, the Dreamealker continued to point and ask questions.

Etuwa enjoyed your eagerness to know the name of everything you would see.

“(Name), when we reach the camp. I won’t be the one to teach you how to hunt.”

Your neck nearly snapped the way you turned your head to her.

“What do you mean?” You spoke nervously.

“If you are to learn how to hunt. You will learn from one of our best hunters. Come.”

One week later.

Itu was brave and farce. And was harsh on his students. Even more harsher on you.

“You are too slow!”

“Fix your stance”

“Skxawng! You cannot let it suffer. Quick and merciful death is the only way.”

Now his strictness is nothing compared to the training you had back on earth. But damn was it frustrating.

You laid in a hammock. Koranu and Sa’nop long asleep. Your hammock closer to the entrance further from the other two Na’vi that slept close to each other.

You however laid awake. Staring out to the dark thundering clouds.

You gripped your father’s dog tags. Your brows furrowed in worry.

Cora hated thunder.

“Mommy!” A little girl around the age of five ran screaming into a dim lit room. Crying as she tried to climb up onto her mother’s bed.

The older one sat up and began to lift the five year old up into her arms.

“Aw, my sweet baby girl. Why you crying?” You brushed away Cora’s hair from her face.

Cora shrieked at the sound of loud thunder. Hiding her face into the crook of your neck. You gently shushed her while wrapping your arms around her small body.

The little girls body was shaking like crazy. You didn’t know what to do to calm her down. You cradled Cora while trying to think.

Than an idea popped up in your mind. Your dad used to sing to you to calm you down. He wasn’t the best singer, but his voice always seemed to calm you down.

You just sang whatever song popped in your head. A song your coworker would sing to his own kids. He sang it so much at work you remember the damn words yourself.

It’s worth the try.

“… Bonne nuit cher trésor. Ferme tes yeux et dors.”

Your voice soothed the little girl in your arms.

“Laisse ta tête, s’envoler, Au creux de ton oreiller…” you felt the little girl slowly go limp in your arms. Her breathing, slow.

You smiled to yourself. Taking a mental note to thank Delgado the next time you see him.

“Cora? Mi Dulce, you okay? You look a little pale.” Malcom watched Cora flinch at the loud noise of thunder.

“I’m fine…. Just tired.” Cora began to fidget with her mother’s dog tags that hung around her neck.

“How about you go rest, hm? You’ve been looking over the map for hours now.” Malcom set his hand on the young teens shoulder.

“No. We need to find mom. I’ll ask So’lek to check those Na’vi camps? Maybe the other Na’vi has seen-”

Malcom cut Cora off with a look.

“Is it the thunder? That why you can’t sleep.”

Cora let out a heavy sigh, avoiding eye contact with the older man. Cora felt a little ashamed that she still needed her mom to sing her to sleep on stormy days like this one.

Hell Cora can’t sleep well in general without her mom being near. She’s thirteen for gods sakes. Shes a big girl now…

Malcom could see Cora trying not to shake to much. He looked around and spot one of the ex-RDA soldier(Travon) tuning a guitar.

“Come.” Malcom left no room for Cora to argue as he dragged the young one into the living area and made her sit. He rushed over to Travon and after a little talking he came back with the Guitar.

Cora watched Malcom clear his throat before randomly playing.

“Bonne nuit cher trésor. Ferme tes yeux et dors!”

Cora almost jumped at his abrupt singing. She stared at the older man as if he has gone crazy.

“Laisse ta tête, s’envoler, Au creux de ton oreiller!” He was loud, and people were starting to stare. Cora couldn’t take this embarrassment anymore.

“Okay okay! Stop, please I’m begging.” Cora’s face had already scrunched into cringe.

“Que? I was about to get to the good part.” Malcom seemed to actually believe he was doing any good for your ears.

“Umm… maybe leave the singing to mom, uncle Malcom.” Cora’s words caused Malcom to gasp dramatically.

“You know I’m the one who taught your mother this song. I’m the real OG.” Malcom lightly tapped his chest with his fist. A look of pride clear on his face.

Cora rolled her eyes.

“Never say ‘real OG’ again.” If she suffers through any more of her uncle’s cringe actions she will die of embarrassment.

Itu had fun making the Dreamwalker run around blindly as he screamed demands.

The dreamwalker is very stupid in Itu’s eyes. He watched her trip over her own tail and somehow got tangled in tree vines.

But he will admit, she has good aim.

*Smack!*

Itu slapped (Name)’s elbow to straighten her stance. “Hand, over here.”

Itu adjusted her hand on the string to the bow to the opposite side she had it before.

Etuwa has a big soft spot for you. Itu does not know why. Is it your stupidity that charms her? If so, he worries for his friend if she truly finds that charming.

“Weak shot. Again!”

You held in a frustrated sigh and just did as told.

Two Na’vi girls watched from hunters camp.

“Koranu, is that not the dreamwalker your father took in?”

Lay’taw questioned the weaver who glanced down to see you get smacked in the head by Itu. She held in a small laugh.

“Yes. (Name) is what she is called.”

Koranu and Lay’taw watched Itu and (Name). Lay’taw can’t help but find the scene amusing.

“I have heard she is a great fighter. Why is she being trained by Itu? Should it not be Kitangi? Or even Ongwi at least?”

Lay’taw has a point. Kitangi is master bow. It should be her to teach someone like the dreamwalker. But of course she would refuse.

Ongwi, who usually agrees and complies with Etuwa’s ideas and decision making’s. Wouldn’t want to upset his mate Kitangi if he had taken the young dreamwalker as his student.

So Itu, is the only choice Etuwa had.

“You know elders won’t easily accept an outsider.” Koranu mumbled her words with a soft sigh.

Lay’taw chuckled.

“Yet your father did it without hesitation- than again. She did save his life.”

Lay’taw’s words made Koranu pause.

Is that why Sa’nop seemed to favor (Name) so much? Sa’nop started to stay at hometree for much longer just to feed the dreamwalker. Koranu even overheard her father speaking with Nefika on how he was going to teach (Name) how to cook.

He never did that for Koranu….

Should Koranu chose to become a hunter instead of a weaver? Would her father pay more attention to her if she did so?

An ugly feeling started rose in Koranu’s chest. One she had never felt before. It was not hate. But she hated feeling whatever it was.

(Name) glanced up to the hunters camp and spotted Koranu. (Name) smiled and waved. But Koranu just turned away and walked off.

(Name)’s smile dropped a little at that.

*Smack!*

Itu smacked (Name)’s head.

“Focuse!”

One day. You were on a hunt with Itu. This hunt was different though. You two were going going after an Angstìk. Aka, a Hammerhead.

Itu was having you lead the way. Your tracking has gotten better. But your steps are still too loud. But your steps are not what he must watch over for. How you kill the Angstìk and how you give your thanks is what will determine if you are ready for the ikran rookery.

“You are breathing too loud Skxawng.” Itu whispered. Practically in your ear at this point. You turn your head to the Na’vi.

“Maybe if you back up you wouldn’t hear my breathing.”

“You are dramatic. I am not that close.” Itu doesn’t think he is close. But he is pretty damn close.

“Personal space might not be your thing. But it’s mine, back it up.” You were close to pushing him.

Itu rolled his eyes

“You don’t complain when Etuwa is close to you. So close your arms touch-“

You use your hand to push him away by his face.

“Shut it.”

Itu was able to hold in his laugh. But not his smug smirk. It might just be you, but Itu has gone from rude and strict to annoying and playful in the three weeks you have been here.

You finally picked up the language, but still seem to make some mistakes with pronunciation and forget certain words.

The two young adults slowly creep from a small hill. There, a Hammerhead and its young were drinking from a a large pond.

Itu followed you as you tried to find the right angle to get a clean strong shot.

He watched you stand up, using your training bow, stringing it back perfectly.

You exhale as quiet as you could. Focusing on the weak spot. Right before you were going to shoot.

Your ear twitched. The familiar sound of machinery close by caused your stance to falter. A look of realization slowly creeping into your expression.

Itu frowns, seeing you stop. Before he could say anything he caught onto the sound as well. A scowl appears onto his face.

“Sky people.” Itu hissed the words like poison.

You reached to your side. Ready to grab your gun. But than realizing you don’t have your guns anymore. You frown.

“We should go- Itu?” (Name) watched the Na’vi rush to the direction the noise was coming from.

“Itu!” (Name) whispered/yelled. Following after Itu in slight panic. Itu effortlessly climbed a large tree that looked down on a small clearing. You grunted as you climbed up to a smaller tree nearby.

You were greeted with the sight of RDA setting up what looks like a fueling station. Five Amp suits. A few soldiers and looks like a pilot ready to go.

“Itu, we need to go.” You watched Itu grip his bow. His tail swaying aggressively.

“Itu… don’t be a fool. Too many of them, we can’t take them all.”

If they were all just exo suits yeah maybe you two could take them. But they’re not. You’re seeing a couple of elite AMP suits. Not going to be easy with bows and arrows.

You weren’t going to stick around, you want to get back to the nearest camp now.

You decided to leave. Hoping Itu would not try and take them on his own and follow you back to camp.

Itu, watched in anger and frustration as the sky people cut down trees to make a larger clearing. He looked back to the dreamwalker who was going down a vine.

He soon decided it was best to go back to camp. And maybe he can come back with Vifilu or Etuwa to take these sky people down.

At the end of the day the hunt was unsuccessful, due to the disturbance of the sky people. Itu decided that your next hunt won’t be an animal. It will be the sky people.

You are one of the sky people after all. So you will be useful in taking them out.

[teylanstoolbox]

To Yearn or To Not Yearn

sfw | minors can interact! translations : leiokoaktu - respected elder. yawntu(s) - beloved one(s) includes my head canon of teylan with a cleft lip! (peep the pfp) inspired off of vividhelene (our wonderful tsahik) from tiktok! tag list : n/a just ask pairing(s) : implied okul x tamtey, implied so'lek x tamtey, and implied itu x tamtey word count : 2,510 Summary : So'lek yearns from afar, despite the loss of everyone in home tree. He can't bring himself to tear his eyes from Tamtey, even if Teylan and Itu are insisting on annoying him today. Taking place after From The Ashes.

Voices rumbled over the twine of ancient branches and roots, carrying to the outer exterior of the Aranahe's living space; beautiful leaves adorning the burn marked bark of the tree, proof of a war it'd long since suffered at the hand of sky people. Proof of Eywa's loyalty to her planet, to reclaim something so torn apart and make it new.

It was harder to care for everyone, the bustling inside of Home Tree was eerily more silent than  it had been before. With the loss of the most lively amongst them still fresh. Young warriors were marred in scars that seniors looked on at with disappointment, someone with such youth should not have experienced something so traumatic. To lose their home despite its reclaiming.

So there was work to be done, and at the forefront of it all was as expected; Tamtey. One of the younger Sarentu, but not the youngest. No, Teylan still held that title despite his curiosity of the Zeswa's ways; his need to stay with them growing all the more agitating on the already broken clan's wounds. They had lost their own people, and upon finding out all he'd wanted to do was run away to another clan.

Tamtey wouldn't blame him, she'd do that too if she could. But she couldn't, so she was stuck here working with the aforementioned boy who'd finally peered in for a visit; Nor and Ri'nela grilling him about staying gone for too long, though the words fell on a newly scarred ear belonging to the leader of the few. Yellow eyes drifting their way back to Rasi who just seemed to hover over the young ones, much like a sa'nu who'd only regained her coup would, but to call it suffocating was an understatement. Of course she loved Rasi, they may as well have been kin due to the way the elder spoke of her mother! But Tamtey had always done things on her own, had always been a fierce and independent force others had grown to look onto; now that she was recovering and still heavily injured, the bandage wrapped over a bloodied patch of skin all to prove of it (a remembrance left by Wukula before her rescue), everyone had been over her repeatedly.

First it started slow, a gentle press of Nefika's hands taking the heavy thing she'd attempted to lift from her aching arm; muttering something about how helpful her yawntu was. Then it shifted into Ri'nela refusing to let her join in on pulling away debris, situating her amongst the remaining weavers that was... Much more solemn without Koranu's blurting speech.

However, all of this was lost to the eye of a certain male. The former Dog Tag Warrior of the Trr'ong, So'lek. He held new wounds of his own, bruises that were fading out still marked around his hips and bicep; a Sarentu paint mark, now refreshed, bumping off of his cheek to accompany the entire new get up he had been gifted for the previous week's ceremony. Everything about him carried a new air, the grief that had laid thick now barren with love for his new family. Despite the turn and twist of everything going on at the moment, the days of grieving everyone had resorted to taking; to remember the ones who now lay with Eywa though not completely, they hadn't recovered enough of the bodies to complete the proper mourning rituals yet.

It was a terrible sight, one that brought up memories from within; those that had plagued his nights endlessly in youth he could barely recall from this moment. So he worked, he worked to reinstate the walls of Hometree, to reclaim the burned ground charred with ash so that Eywa's new life could push through.

Despite this and his endless work, So'lek was forced to sit down more often to ease away the pain of older joints that had gathered pressure within them; unfortunately this left him surrounded by young hunters who now questioned over everything, annoyance fleeting but there in the older of the few. "Tell us-" "No tell me!" "I was asking as well-" The melting of voices combined within flicking ears as each and every young male alike tried to question the elder for his knowledge of wars, for his past within the people's clans that were not from this etch of the frontier. Most of the boys before him having never even heard of there being a whole nother part of Pandora that held Na'vi! Their interest was.. Refreshing to say the least. Young hands able to guide their clan back to the state it had once been in, the one So'lek knew it in. But his gaze wandered still, away from the now tussling hunters onto a more agile body. One he adored all too well from afar, but never up close; not until recently that was.

The high curve of a tail on a dimpled back, the insistent press of muscled limbs hardened from moon cycles of forceful training and another grant from the forest's dangerous exterior. So'lek's lips gave a twitch that neared on a smile, never completely there but noticeable to anyone who paid too much attention to someone; Yellowing ember eyes traced up the working frame of Tamtey, of the Sarentu he had come to know and adore, who held his heart in every term but physical. The mere thought of her not being able to grasp it brought physical pain to him, one that lingered deep within the muscle of his myocardium; as if it was tearing his physical heart to pieces that would pump in bloody love for the woman who was ever so oblivious to the affections the warrior held for her.

Raven hair shifting at his side was the first thing that drew the older male's eyes from their target, and despite having the entirety of Tamtey memorized from his year of yearning stares; it was still a pain to drag away from the movement of her form, only to find.. Teylan. Sitting next to him. How pleasant.

So'lek immediately moved to stand the moment Teylan's mouth parted, the new hairstyle was almost enough to drag a laugh from his lips. Scarred cheek twitching at the will of keeping it in, to remain stone faced as the younger male who looked up to him began to speak.  "You know, So'lek... If you did not spend so much time yearning from a distance, you would have probably gotten Tamtey's attention by now! I am surprised she does not feel you staring at her."

Teylan swung his feet where he sat, unintentionally driving a form of sour anger within the older man's chest that blossomed further as he closed his lips to stare into him; through him. It was unsettling almost how the young man perceived everything, paid attention to everyone down to the micro stable of personality.

"Yearn?" A scoff bubbled from the older male, brow muscles furrowing; the tattoo lining his forehead wrinkling in reply to the rustle of skin. "I do not yearn, brother."

It was simple, held forth, a reply trained from within his heart that he'd grown accustomed to situating in other's minds; Nefika with her ever so insistent press on angering him with Itu, to the younger that sat before him with a keen eye for observing everyone and everything that stood before him. Especially those he'd loved.

Only when things settled between them into silence, and So'lek's gaze returned to the female that lay feet across home tree did Teylan speak once more; his human accent ringing off of the hollow space of the emptied out home. "Yes you do.” He spoke matter of factly. “I see how you yearn! It is very clear, you do not try to hide it at all. You and Itu both yearn for Tamtey, if I was Itu I would have taken her out already because you are taking too long! At least Itu speaks about his feelings aloud to people and doesn't pretend they do not exist. Because they do!" The words that had slipped from his mouth only seemed to enrage the male above him, whose head swiveled at the rate of a fierce Storm Glider's talons scraping the back of any Na'vi that dared fly too close to its nest. A hiss baring on white fangs that seemed almost sharper than any other male he'd come into contact with.

Bubbling feelings finally poured from his chest, both boys oblivious to the fact Nefika sat above them listening; intentionally? Of course! By far this was her favorite gossip of the day, the most enjoyable time in her resting that the elder had come to love. Three men going back and forth with no clear path between them, what was not to adore?

"Yearning is for young hunters who do not know what lies before them, I do not yearn. I am a warrior, one finer than Itu-" His insistent ramble was cut short by that gratinating voice that just settled so wrong on his ears, the throb of pain behind his eyes beginning to grow into something of a stabbing headache that made even the strongest of warriors keen over and growl with hurt. "Brother you wound me with your words!" Itu's voice carried over the edge of the trail, his head tilted in bewildered amusement; any day to mess with So'lek in his books, was a day spent usefully wasted amongst chatter. Despite the low growl forming within the older's throat at each twist and turn of the youngers ganging up on him, his whole body turning to face Itu; bringing his muscled yet scarred form to appear much larger than the Aranahe's best hunter, a sneer gathering itself on his lips.

A finger pressed to his chest tilted him back a bit, mostly from the shock of the action being used against him; something so small at a show of dominance? Most warriors would have flared up and hissed in his face at that, but not Itu. With his wonderful laugh, and his infuriating hair, Itu in general was an annoyance and mystery to So'lek. How someone could act so casually charming about the female they yearned for was a bewilderment to the seasoned warrior. "Words cannot wound, brother. Only the way you carry them will injure your soul." So'lek spoke with a tone aged by wisdom, words carrying the weight of someone scorned by loss.

Though it didn't quite matter to the fawn brown haired male before him, an agitating grin spread over his lips; a glint of white fangs parting beneath all So'lek could catch as he spoke. "You misunderstand me, So'lek. To say I am not a warrior because I yearn is.." He paused, searching for the words lost on his tongue. "To say that our dear Tamtey does not deserve to be yearned for."

Bewilderment settled over the features of the previously feared legend, his ears pinned back to the crown of his head; black braids and straight hair falling over his head guard in a fret of useless sputtering. "I would never imply such a thing!" He'd spat, tail lashing with residual anger behind him; almost whipping within the ear, a rich sounding laugh from above barely registered to the man who was now nearly nose to nose with the annoyance of a hunter that plagued him with his words. "But you did, so perhaps I should go on what Teylan had said and ask out our beloved Tamtey. She would enjoy any courting gift I bring, don't you think so?"

The tension boiled between the two males, both of which had shifted away to gather an item of their choice; one that meant something to both of them, such as a wooden carving of Katir from Itu and a Tana'rìng stem woven head guard from So'lek. Something that rested within both of their hearts... But neither seemed to notice Teylan slipping away, noisily whistling with each breath from the gap of his lip not meeting his nose; most likely off to have another war of flowers with a na'vi that insisted on throwing them at another clan's tsahik, the previous night's battle had left the younger male covered in petals of leopard orchids.

Now turning, it was like a race to who could greet Tamtey first; who could entice her to go hunting with them so they could present their gift, shoving each other by the shoulder of a more well muscled frame, slipping beneath with a lithe one formed from years of training in the Kinglor's home woods. Both of them quarrelling towards the unsuspecting woman only to pause in their wrestling at the sound of her laugh, their chests warmed with blooming heat that bellowed their affections for her.

Two pairs of eyes met over the frame of a.. half painted.. darker na'vi.. Okul. Of the Kame'tire.

They both stood bewildered as Tamtey was lead off by the other, gifts hanging loosely in the air alongside their own facial expressions; the descent of feet behind on the curve of the roots along with a chuckle barely drawing their shared attention from the fact they just lost their woman to a fucking healer. Nefika's presence only served to doom them more, perhaps they weren't courting her? They only wished to discuss, that's what So'lek would think.. Until that Eywa awful woman (by so'lek's words) opened her mouth. "Oh ma yawntus, if you were not so busy fighting amongst yourselves like two males in their breeding cycle. Perhaps you would have caught the affections he shared for your beloved, now step aside young ones." The laugh of a rich tune faded on their ears as Nefika glided by to greet the two with a careful press of an open palm to two shoulders, leading them away from the disappointed rivals at her tail.

Silence drew out between them, standing with their shoulders hunched low at the center of home tree's charred grounds; yellow optics shifting to meet once more. "I should not have insulted you so, brother.." So'lek spoke first, his words heavy with jealousy that mingled on apology.

"The ill was not yours, ma leiokoaktu, but my own. I should have more respect for those above my age.. Though it seems we now share a common enemy." Itu's sharpened gaze shifted back onto the movement of Okul who marched on chatting away with Tamtey, their tail showing the emotions their face did not register; waving within the air to brush against her own, though it thankfully did not return the gesture.

"Yes.." So'lek paused to chuckle, glancing away from the retreating three to gather his gaze back onto the man he'd spent so long arguing with. "It does appear so, ma 'eylan."

A/N : I had quite a lot of fun writing this! Originally wrote for the clan of vividhelene on tiktok, even including a small joke reference to something me and someone had done in a live the day prior! Teylan out!

[2wardens1blight]

Imprisoned for being too handsome?? Too silly?? Too whimsical???? Justice for my boy

[cherriecove]

Holding What Remains

Itu x Na'vi! Reader

Summary: You were supposed to fly together that night. Instead, you find him kneeling in the aftermath, Zomey gone and the bond severed. So you do the only thing you can. You stay.

Cherrie's Notes: This was one of the requests from one of you guys! "Z" my pookie, my beloved, hope you like this! The others will follow. AFOP Masterlist

The day began softly.

You woke to warmth—steady, familiar, grounding. Itu’s arm was draped over your waist, his breath slow against the back of your neck. The light filtering through the woven walls of your alcove painted everything in gentle gold. For a moment, you didn’t move. You just listened—to him, to the distant hum of Hometree waking, to the quiet rhythm of a life that felt safe.

“You are awake,” Itu murmured, voice still heavy with sleep.

“I have been,” you teased softly, turning slightly in his hold. “You were holding me captive.”

A quiet huff of amusement left him, his fingers brushing along your arm in a lazy, absent motion. “Ah. Then I will not apologize.”

You smiled, leaning into him before finally pulling away to begin the day.

It was easy—being with him. The soft laughter as you both dressed, the gentle bump of shoulders as you moved around each other, the shared meal where your knees brushed beneath you. You spoke in low voices about the day ahead—his plans to hunt, yours to remain with Nefika and continue weaving.

“And later?” you asked, tilting your head.

Itu’s eyes softened instantly. “We fly.”

A grin spread across your face. “The floating mountains?”

He nodded. “Zomey has been restless. She will like it.”

“And my bonded will race her,” you added playfully.

“They will lose.”

You laughed, nudging him. “We will see.”

It was simple. It was certain. You would meet again before the eclipse of the day and fly together as you always did.

—

Hometree settled into its rhythm as the morning passed.

You sat beside Nefika, fingers working through fibers with practiced ease. The motions were familiar, soothing—pull, twist, weave. Nefika spoke occasionally, correcting or guiding, though her tone carried quiet approval.

“You are distracted,” she noted at one point, not unkindly.

You exhaled softly. “Only thinking.”

“Of him.”

It wasn’t a question.

A small smile tugged at your lips. “We are to fly later.”

Nefika hummed. “Then your hands should focus now, so your mind may be free then.”

You nodded, trying to ground yourself in the task again.

But something felt… off.

It wasn’t anything you could name. Just a subtle unease beneath your ribs, like a thread pulled too tight. You shifted slightly, glancing toward the open spaces of Hometree, listening beyond the usual sounds.

Then—footsteps. Fast. Uneven. You turned just as one of the Sarentu approached—Tamtey. They weren't supposed to be here. Your hands stilled. They looked at you like they didn’t know how to speak.

“What is it?” you asked immediately, rising to your feet.

Tamtey swallowed. “Itu—” Your heart lurched.

“What about him?”

“There was an RDA patrol,” they said quickly, voice strained. “Near the hunting grounds. He—he was not alone—Zomey—” The world narrowed.

“No,” you breathed.

“They attacked,” Tamtey continued, the words rushing now. “We found him—but—” You didn’t wait for the rest. The weaving fell from your hands as you turned, already moving, already running.

“—Zomey is dead—” The words chased you, but you were gone.

The air rushed past you as you leapt, your bonded answering your call instantly. The connection snapped into place—fear, urgency, your racing pulse all spilling into them.

Go.

They launched without hesitation. The world blurred beneath you—trees, cliffs, rivers—none of it mattered. You pushed faster, harder, ignoring the strain, ignoring everything except the direction Tamtey had given. 

Please. Your thoughts weren’t even words anymore—just raw, desperate feeling. Please let him be alive. Please let him be—

You felt it before you saw it.

A disturbance. A silence where there shouldn’t be.

Smoke lingered faintly in the air.

And then—you saw him.

Itu was kneeling. Still. Too still.

Your bonded landed before you fully registered it, your body moving before thought could catch up. You stumbled forward, breath catching as the scene came into focus.

Zomey lay crumpled nearby. Her form—still, unmoving—wrong in a way that made your chest seize.

“No…” Your voice broke. Itu didn’t respond. You rushed to him, dropping to your knees at his side. “Itu—”

His hands were still resting against Zomey, trembling faintly. His head was bowed, braids falling forward, shoulders rigid like stone.

“Itu,” you tried again, softer this time. Slowly—too slowly—he looked up. And your heart shattered. There was something hollow in his eyes. Not empty—worse than that. Filled with something too heavy to hold.

“They came from the sky,” he said, voice rough, distant. “I did not hear them soon enough.”

Your hand reached for him, gripping his arm. “You are alive.”

“She protected me.” The words hit like a blade. “I should have—”

“No.” Your voice was firm, shaking but unyielding. “Do not say that.”

His gaze flickered to you, then back to Zomey. “I felt her fear,” he whispered. “And then… nothing.” 

You swallowed hard, your own vision blurring as you looked at her. At the stillness. At the bond that had been severed so violently. Gently, you moved closer, pressing yourself against him, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. For a moment, he didn’t react.

Then—he broke.

His head dropped against you, breath hitching as his body finally gave in to the grief he had been holding back. You held him tighter, one hand coming up to cradle the back of his head, fingers threading through his braids.

“I am here, ma yawntu” you murmured, over and over. “I am here.” The wind whispered through the trees, carrying the scent of smoke away. You stayed like that for a long time—kneeling beside loss, holding what remained.

Together.

The world did not move.

It felt as though Eywa herself had stilled everything around you—no wind, no distant calls, no rustling leaves—only the sound of Itu’s uneven breathing against you and the faint, fading warmth of a bond that had been torn away.

You did not rush him. Grief had its own rhythm. You would not break it.

Your hand continued its slow, grounding motion along his back, the other still cradling his head where it rested against your shoulder. His fingers remained curled against Zomey’s side, as if letting go would make this final in a way he could not yet face.

“She was afraid,” he said hoarsely after a long silence. You closed your eyes briefly.

“I felt it,” he continued, voice cracking. “Through tsaheylu. It was so sudden… confusion… pain…” His breath hitched sharply. “And I could not reach her.”

Your grip tightened slightly. “You were there.”

“It was not enough.”

“Itu—”

“I am her rider,” he snapped suddenly, pulling back just enough to look at you. The anguish in his eyes burned. “I am meant to protect her. She trusted me, and I—”

“You loved her,” you said firmly, cutting through the spiral before it could drag him under. “She knew that.” His jaw clenched, but he didn’t look away. “You think she chose to protect you because you failed her?” you continued, softer now but no less steady. “No. She chose because you are hers. Because your lives were one.” His expression faltered. Slowly, your hand moved from his hair to his cheek, grounding him, forcing him to stay with you. “She did not die alone,” you whispered. “She died with you. With your bond. With your love.”

The words seemed to crack something open in him—something quieter, deeper than the sharp edge of guilt. His shoulders sagged slightly, breath shuddering as he looked back at Zomey. For a while, neither of you spoke. Then, carefully, you shifted. “We should not leave her here.”

Itu’s eyes flickered. “No…”

“She deserves to return to Eywa properly,” you continued. “Not like this. Not after what they did.” At that, something steadied in him. A purpose.

He nodded once, slowly, “Yes.”

It took time.

You stayed beside him as he worked, never leaving his side. Together, you prepared Zomey with the care she deserved—removing what should not remain, arranging her with reverence, hands gentle despite the weight of what you were doing. Every movement was heavy with meaning. Every touch, a farewell. When it was done, you both sat back, the light beginning to shift toward evening.

“We will take her to the roots,” Itu said quietly. “To a place she can be heard.”

You nodded. “I will fly with you.”

His gaze softened slightly at that. “You do not have to—”

“I know,” you said. “I want to.”

A pause.

Then, finally—he leaned forward, resting his forehead briefly against yours. A quiet, wordless thank you.

The flight back was slower.

Different.

Zomey’s absence was a silence that echoed between you both. Where there should have been another presence in the sky, there was only open air. Your bonded felt it too—you sensed their unease, their confusion—but they stayed steady beneath you, strong and sure. When you reached the sacred place, the world felt… listening. The roots of the great trees curled deep into the earth, glowing faintly with life. The air was thick with something ancient, something knowing.

Together, you carried her.

Together, you laid her to rest. Itu hesitated before making the final connection—his hand hovering, trembling slightly.

“I do not know if she will hear me,” he admitted quietly.

You stepped closer, placing your hand over his, “Eywa will.”

That was enough.

He closed his eyes, making the connection. The moment it happened, his breath caught sharply. You felt it too—not directly, but through him. A shift. A presence. Something vast and gentle and sorrowful all at once.

His shoulders shook. “She is there,” he whispered, voice breaking. “I can feel… echoes… memories…” Tears slipped freely down his face now, but there was something else beneath them. Not just grief.

Connection.

You stayed with him the entire time, your presence steady, unwavering. When he finally pulled away, he didn’t collapse this time. He leaned into you. And you held him.

Night had begun to fall by the time you left. The stars emerged slowly above, quiet and distant. Itu walked beside you in silence for a while before speaking.

“I do not know how to do this again,” he admitted. “To bond… to fly… without her.”

“You do not have to know now,” you replied gently. He glanced at you. “You only have to take the next step.”

A pause.

Then, quietly: “With you?”

You reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. “With me. We will honour her last flight together when the grief is not as sharp.” For the first time since you had found him, his grip tightened in return. And though the loss remained—sharp, aching, undeniable—you felt it then:

He was still here. And you would not let him face it alone.

The night wrapped around you both like a quiet witness.

By the time you returned to Hometree, the world had dimmed into soft blues and deep shadows. The usual warmth of home felt… different. Muted. As if it, too, understood what had been lost. Word had already spread.

You felt it in the way voices hushed as you passed, in the glances—soft, sorrowful, respectful. No one stopped you. No one spoke. They didn’t need to. Grief was understood here.

Your hand never left Itu’s.

Your alcove felt smaller somehow. Or perhaps it was the absence that made it feel that way.

You paused at the entrance, turning slightly toward him. “You should rest.”

Itu didn’t answer at first. His gaze drifted across the space—lingering on the woven blankets, the small things you had both left behind that morning, untouched. Unchanged. Like the day had not shattered in between.

“I left this morning,” he said quietly. “And she was alive.” Your chest tightened. “I thought about the hunt,” he continued. “About returning to you. About flying later.” His jaw clenched faintly. “I did not think it would be the last time I would feel her.”

You stepped closer, “You did not know,” you said gently.

“I should have,” he whispered.

You didn’t argue this time. Instead, you reached up, resting your forehead against his—just like he had done before. “You came back,” you murmured. “You are here. With me.”

A long pause.

Then, slowly, his hands came up—hesitant at first, like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to hold onto anything anymore. But when they settled at your waist, they tightened. Not desperate. But grounding.

“I do not feel her,” he admitted, voice barely above a breath. “It is… quiet.”

You swallowed, heart aching at the emptiness behind those words. “I know,” you said softly. “I have heard others speak of it. When a bond is broken…” You hesitated, choosing your words carefully. “It leaves an echo. A silence where something once was.”

His grip tightened slightly, “It hurts.”

“I know.”

You guided him down to sit, pulling him gently with you. The two of you settled together, the familiar closeness returning in a quieter, more fragile way. For a while, you simply stayed like that. Then, after a long silence, Itu spoke again. “I do not think I can fly,” he said. The words were steady. Certain. Not a question. Your chest ached—but you nodded.

“Then you will not.” His eyes flickered to yours, searching—almost bracing, as if expecting disappointment. But there was none. “You will when you are ready,” you added. “Or you will not. Either way… you are still you.” Something in his expression softened—just a little.

“You make it sound simple.”

“It is not,” you said honestly. “But you do not have to decide everything tonight.”

A faint exhale left him—almost a broken laugh, “You always say that.”

“And you never listen.” That earned the smallest ghost of a smile. It didn’t last long. But it was there.

Later, when the night deepened and exhaustion finally began to settle into his bones, you lay back together—just as you had that morning. But everything had changed. Itu hesitated before pulling you close again, as if unsure whether he could reach for comfort after what had happened. You didn’t give him time to doubt. You shifted into him, tucking yourself against his chest, your arm draping across him as you had done countless times before.

“I am here,” you murmured again, softer now. “Ma yawntu.” His arms wrapped around you more firmly this time. Not loose. Not uncertain. Holding. As if he needed to remind himself you were real.

“I was afraid,” he admitted into your hair.

Your heart skipped. “Of what?”

“That I would not come back.” A pause. “Or that I would… and there would be nothing left of me to give you.”

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your hand coming up to his cheek again. “You are still here,” you said, steady and sure. “All of you. Even the parts that hurt.”

His gaze searched yours, “And if they are broken?”

“Then I will sit with you while they mend.”

Silence. Then—he leaned into your touch.

Sleep did not come easily. Not for him. You felt it in the way he stirred, in the tension that would creep back into his body, in the quiet moments where his breath would hitch as memory returned unbidden. Each time, you held him. Each time, you grounded him back into the present—into you. At some point, in the deepest part of the night, his grip loosened just slightly. His breathing evened out, not peaceful—but resting. You stayed awake a little longer, listening.

To him.

To Hometree.

To the distant, ever-present hum of Eywa. And silently, you made a promise. To Zomey. To him. You would help him find the sky again.

Even if it took time.

Even if it hurt.

He would not face the silence alone.

[twowhalesinatrenchcoat]

itu and iley hanging out around so'lek's camp