summary: neteyam sully was the next olo'eyktan and for years had been focused on his training and his responsibilities only. he had never accounted for you to become one of them. when you got your avatar body and ended up in the forest alone, being brought to the village and offered to be taught the ways of the people wasn't what you expected. let alone it being neteyam, future olo'eyktan becoming your teacher.
pairings: neteyam x avatar!reader (aged up)
word count: 97,582 (completed: 02/01/23)
warnings/notes: enemies to lovers trope, slow burn, angst, swearing, mention of child abandonment, mention of sky people, mention of death, lo'ak x avatar!reader (if you squint), asshole!neteyam/protective!neteyam, smut in later chapters
masterlist | requests are currently open for now
please keep in mind that all characters in my stories are always 18+, and although I can't monitor who reads my work, if you are not 18+ I advise that you do not engage in my page or stories.
I. snga’itseng — just the beginning
II. the ways of the na'vi
III. the outsider
IV. iknimaya
V. na’viyä hapxì — one of the people
VI. as the world caves in
VII. one of us
VIII. the deepest sighs, the frankest shadows
one of us spotify playlist - any songs you might think fit for the series? lmk so I can add them.
summary: your lessons with the eldest sully son begin. except he isn't impressed by your previous knowledge or your determination to learn their ways. he wasn't impressed with you at all, in fact, and it was shown in his short temper and sharp glares. as time goes on you have to learn to handle your emotions when it comes to him, to ensure that you won't get kicked out of the village, but it's not always as easy as it seems.
pairings: neteyam x avatar!reader
word count: 7.8k
warnings/notes: cursing, neteyam being an asshole, enemies to lovers, lo'ak x avatar!reader (slightly), tuk being adorable, lots of lessons like the first movie
series masterlist | one of us: part two | requests are currently open for now
Dr. Augustine once said, “The closest way to the afterlife was through the Na’vi.”
Eywa was never based on science or tests profited by doctors in lab coats. When the sky people inhabited this land, the idea of the great mother was foreign — almost like a folk tale. To them there was no concrete evidence to her existence, no facts to prove she was the way of life and caretaker of the afterlife. Just as the Na’vi believed it was hard to teach the sky people when their glasses were already full, to them there was only scientific fact. Grace Augustine, however, went beyond the facts. She dedicated her whole life, aside from studying the biology of the planet to trying to connect with the Na’vi people and to Eywa.
In countless video logs, she talked about her doubts, her scientific brain questioning this phenomenon as much as the next scientist, but then as time went on the facts no longer mattered. Eywa became real in her final moments at least that’s what Jake had told you once as a child. Eywa was real and her connection to every neuron within the ground, the water, and the plants of Pandora were seen in the everyday life of the Omatikaya. They felt her, communicated with her, and based their life and decisions around her. She was the purpose and meaning behind it all, and Grace stated clearly that if you wanted to walk among them, you must fully understand that. You must become one of them.
The next morning you woke before the sun even had with a hand shaking you awake, your name the only thing they could say. You ignored them and just rolled over to face the wall of your room, but seconds after that your body met the cold morning air of the room as your blankets were ripped from your body. You shivered and glared over your shoulder to find Norm standing there, your blankets still in his hands. He shrugged rather innocently as you continued to stare daggers at him. “The wake-up call is early in the village. Better get a move on.”
You ate some breakfast and changed your clothes and by sunrise, you were in the link pod. Just like the day before, you closed your eyes and when you opened them, you were back in the hut. The sun peeked its way past the slit in the tent, greeting your face with warmth. Your hand reached up tracing your features of your ears, your nose, and your lips. As they did, a huge smile formed across your face because it had worked for the second time. You sat up and as you did, you were met by the opening of the tent being ripped to the side similarly as Norm had woken you up that morning in the camp. Kiri waltzed in already dressed and ready for the day. She grinned down at you and the radiance that seemed to glow across your dark blue face.
“Up and at ‘em. You have a long day ahead of you,” she said, some extra clothes in her hands, some that looked so thin and dainty as if they wouldn’t cover anything, “Also I brought you some clothes. You’ll fit right in.”
“Thank you, Kiri,” you replied sweetly as you stood glancing down at the ripped, dried blood shirt that still occupied your frame.
Her brows rasied for a moment though, a mischievous smile appearing as she glanced out of the hut, “Also, there is someone here who is dying to see you.”
She let out a high-pitched whistle and in an instant the other side of the tent was pulled to the side, a smaller blue frame bounding in. Tuk appeared and her gaze met yours, she became completely still. Her eyes widened in awe and stared up taking in every part of you. Even though you weren’t yourself in so many ways, it was as if she would know without even being told that it was you. The same aura about you remained.
“Hi, Tuk.”
As your smooth voice filled her ears, it broke her from her temporary spell. She ran forward, both of her arms tightly wrapping around her waist. It was the first hug from the child that didn’t feel completely overwhelming. You were able to hug her back just as tightly, her whole body finally fitting within yours. “It’s really you.”
Her words shocked you slightly but as you shared a look with Kiri she could only smile at the interaction before her. Heart feeling warm, you grabbed Tuk under both of her arms and hauled her up onto your hips and your ears were met with the melodic sound of her laughter. After a moment, you found her own hand moving upwards to trace your face starting at your jaw to your nose. “You look just as I always thought you would”
“Yeah?”
The child nodded incessantly as her small hands moved through your long black hair, straight as a pin that fell to your lower back. It was like a lightbulb had popped up making her entire face light up. “Will you let me braid it?”
“Of course.”
Then she looked over to her older sister who was still standing in front of the doorway. “Kiri, can you help me?”
She rolled her eyes teasingly but her smile gave away her true feelings to her younger sister who she found it hard saying no to on a given basis. “Sure, Tuk.”
You changed quickly and spent the next thirty minutes not only adjusting the small beaded top across your chest but hissing at the way the two sisters tightly pulled at your hair. Tuk was just finishing the last of the two pieces of hair that framed your face when a clear loud whistle ripped through all of your ears.
You glanced over at Kiri and she sighed under her breath realizing how quickly the time had gotten away from you all, “It’s getting late in the morning and we all know that can only be one person. You should get going.”
You agreed and stood thanking both of them before you stepped out from the hut, the morning light hitting you straight in the face. As your eyes adjusted, you found two Na’vi young men standing outside almost shoulder to shoulder mumbling to one another with light rain dancing across their skin. The storm had subsided to a mere drizzle and you felt it on your face and shoulders the second you walked out. Kiri and Tuk followed you out of the hut and the small girl slapped her hand over her mouth to stifle her laugh at you picking at the back of your clothed bottoms. The sound caught both of her older brothers’ attention and as they peered up toward you, they became awfully quiet. Both of their eyes were focused on you.
For the first time ever, you appeared just as every other woman in the village did with smooth blue skin, white glistening freckles, and a tall lean body similar to theirs, dressed in beaded tops and small bottoms. However for some reason, neither of them could admit it yet, but they both knew all too well that you would stick out — not just because you were a dream walker but because there was something about you that radiated a beauty that differed from every other woman in the village.
Neteyam found himself noticing how differently your hair fell, it was still long and straight but littered with braids. The two front pieces were braided framing your face and drawing more attention to your high cheekbones and soft smile. There were more in the back too, falling softly against your back. He also noticed that Tuk and Kiri had left some of your natural hair alone, appearing just as soft as it had last night. He cursed himself for having acknowledged it and for how much time it had taken up.
“Woah, look at you,” Lo’ak’s voice shifted all eyes to him, including his older brother’s. Neteyam had blinked before turning to look at Lo’ak who was staring at you in a certain way that was far different than he had before and it was evident to anyone. “Fine as always. Maybe even more so.”
Kiri groaned out of annoyance and the older Sully boy glanced up over at you to find your mouth parted in almost shock, a small hue appearing on your cheeks. Before anyone could say anything else, Neteyam drilled his elbow straight into his younger brother’s side as he was far too flirty with everyone. Lo’ak bent over, a loud hiss of pain emitting from his throat. With a frown on your face, you approached slowly out of comfort, hands outstretched as if you were going to touch him.
“I said 'early', you’re late,” Neteyam’s voice was harsh, so harsh he almost didn’t recognize himself, “I wanted to start earlier. The sooner we start, the sooner we can be done.”
Your attention completely shifted off of Lo’ak but instead to his older brother that was sending a glare over in your direction. You found yourself folding under his gaze and suddenly your arms were wrapped around your torso and your lips that were etched out into a frown deepened.
“Tsap’alute si (I’m sorry).”
He shook his head and exhaled as if he was annoyed with you. Annoyed for you even speaking Na’vi as if you were proving a point that you weren’t just some dumb dream walker. To him though, it didn’t matter how much you knew, there was no way you saw and lived the way they did, and that meant he would still have to spend weeks, possibly months teaching you. “Let’s just go. Your pronunciation needs work, by the way.”
Kiri and Lo’ak’s mouths dropped out of shock as their brother never spoke to anyone that way. Sure he was stern with them when they got in trouble, but that tone was usually saved for lectures and reminding them to not be stupid. This, this was so unlike him, to be rude just for the sake of being rude. Short-tempered was never like Neteyam at all. He was patient, understanding even but he wasn’t displaying any of those promising traits at that moment. You glanced over almost in disbelief at Lo’ak but as you looked back at Neteyam, he was still staring at you expectantly, his eyebrows raised and lips formed in a tight line. You bit your tongue to withhold from offending the future Olo’eyktan and shrugged.
Extending your hand out towards the village, to signal for him to lead the way he seemed to prefer that better than your unnecessary comments because he nodded approvingly and began to walk into the direction of the forest. You looked one more time at his siblings and your friends behind you, somehow feeling the nerves starting to appear in your stomach again. Lo’ak sent you a wink for reassurance and you watched as Kiri playfully shoved him for it.
You followed after Neteyam feeling like a lost child as the village almost parted for him, people stepping aside to clear his path. He emitted power, loyalty, and the future of this clan. He commanded respect seen in even the eldest eyes even though he hadn’t fully proved himself to them. They bowed at him and wished him a good morning. The best hunters of the village decked out in the most extravagant shoulder pieces and jewelry acknowledged the young warrior with a nod of their heads while the children danced around him hoping to get a smile out of him — a smile out of their role model and future leader.
Then there were the many young women, potential future suitors for the Olo’eyktan in training. It was in the way they looked at him, watching him move, and stopped whatever they were doing to whisper about him as the two of you passed.
He didn’t acknowledge them, not even a look in their direction though one of them could be his future wife. In no more than a year, he could be done with his Olo’eyktan training and be betrothed to one of those lucky ladies and you, who knew where you would be. It was evident you didn’t quite belong there yet with your unfamiliar face and five-fingered hands. You knew it and so did all of those young women your age.
Because where they looked at Neteyam with complete awe and longing, it was as if they saw right through you. Like you didn’t even exist to them and those that chose to make eye contact, pursed their lips and looked you up and down less than kindly. It was almost comical in the way that they thought Neteyam would even consider you a choice to be a potential future mate — but in reality, as you were starting to learn it really wasn’t his choice though was it?
No, it came down to Eywa, and how the Tsahik interpreted it. It was whether or not Neytiri and Jake could accept the bond for their son. Whether it was his choice or not, you knew that all those girls had nothing to worry about. As some of their glares seemed to only narrow further, you broke their eye contact and instead found interest in the ground and the way your bare feet sunk into the soil.
As you entered the forest, Neteyam commanded your attention not by so many words but based on the way he was looking at you. You hadn’t been paying him any mind at first, too encapsulated by the flora flittered with raindrops, the same ones that pressed along your own skin leaving goosebumps in their wake. Your eyelashes felt heavy, lips cold, and fingers wrinkled but you ignored it all as you peered at the forest around you. At first, you didn't even know he was looking at you, thinking possibly he had just kept walking, leaving you behind. But as you turned on your heels you found him staring at your back, almost curiously but he adjusted his gaze immediately. He nodded for you to follow him.
For the next hour or two, you found yourself walking alongside him repeating the words and phrases he used to explain your surroundings. He identified so many things in the forest, gave you their Na’vi name, and almost expected perfect pronunciation back especially since Lo’ak and Kiri had mentioned you had been studying the language for years. But it wasn’t as if you were really studying the language as many did. You didn’t have access to hear the words out loud from video recordings or another person. All you had was textbooks and handwritten journals left behind in scraggly handwriting. Even though Norm was fluent in Na’vi you found yourself always talking yourself out of asking him for extra help. So, with all of that considered, of course, your pronunciation was off.
In fact, with every other word you spoke, he would have to repeat it after as he wasn’t satisfied with the way you said it the first time. You tried to remain patient, withhold any eye rolls or snappy comments, and simply do as he said. However, it was difficult, nearly impossible, as he constantly mumbled under his breath and sent you the worst looks that made you wish the ground would just swallow you whole. If he really didn’t want to do this why didn’t he just say no?
Sure, he was the next Olo’eyktan and was expected to do everything his father asked of him but Lo’ak didn’t do that and he was just fine — constantly getting into trouble and lectured for hours on end, but fine. If Neteyam disliked you that much and thought of you as a nuisance he could have said no. His mother would have been more than enthused to kick you to the curb and send you back into the forest.
After about two hours of walking around and dealing with enough of his scolding, you found yourself asking for a break, switching to something else to keep your energy up. For a moment, you thought he was going to argue, be angry that you were even making such a suggestion, but then a look appeared on his face. One you had never seen before — one that could be seen as pure determination. He turned around on the heels of his feet and stared into the forest, the forest covered in rain.
His golden eyes flickered back over to you, “Follow me and try to keep up will ya?”
Just like that, he broke out into a clear sprint off into the forest. For a moment you stared after him in complete shock but as his words registered and his form became fleeting, you took off. As fast as you could, you let your feet slap against the wet grass. You leaped over rocks and branches, eyes frantically focused on the blue speckle before you.
After about five minutes, you could no longer hear the ragged breathing of your voice or feel the burning within your chest. The bottoms of your feet were getting soar but you pushed that pain far away into the back of your mind. The village was miles behind you and somehow the only thing you could focus on was catching up to Neteyam. He ran straight, remaining in your clear view, and you had an inkling that when he began to slow down it was to let you catch up.
The closer you got though, he began to change his course; winding around trees, ducking under fallen limbs, not daring to slow down for anything. You kept up, being so close you felt as if you could reach out for him. Then without warning, you watched almost slowing to a halt as he jumped up grabbing onto a nearby tree branch, he hoisted himself into a large tree. He didn’t stop, evident in the way you could hear him climbing higher and higher into the towering tree.
You took a deep breath and bounded forward following his movements as exactly as you could. As soon as you had made it up to the first branch, you could see him about ten or so feet up higher than you. You smiled down at yourself and began to follow. Climbing from branch to branch you went higher and higher, following his every move. Before you knew it, you had to have been almost hundreds of feet above the ground as you were unable to look down and see the ground. Partially hidden by the numerous branches and overgrown leaves, you were unsure of how far down it really was.
Your breath felt short, adrenaline coursing through your veins. Neteyam slowed down for you again and this time stepped off onto one of the long thick limbs of the tree. As soon as you had reached it, he barely spared you a glance and continued forward. He began to run again and so did you. It brought on flashbacks from that first night in the forest trying to keep up with his siblings in the dark. Somehow though this was less settling than that even in the daylight.
You hurried after him, jumping over long branches to nearby trees. You kept up well for a while until he jumped up and grabbed onto a limb and swung himself across a small gap in the trees landing on the other side. Your breath was cut short in your throat and you felt your fear spike for a mere moment, evident in the way you came to a clear halt at the edge. Neteyam continued forward and within seconds you knew you had to make a decision: make the jump or fall behind. If you chose the latter you weren’t sure how you were going to make it back on your own.
So you backed up and ran forward, both your hands reaching up to grab onto the same branch. With your hands clasped around it, you swung your body forward but within a second of letting go, you knew you had let go too early. You decided against trusting your own body and instead relied on a physical guess. One foot hit the edge of the thick tree limb, the foliage pressed against the tip of your toe, but the other barely even brushed it.
You felt your whole body shift back much like it had the night in the forest, this time it felt ten times worse, and happening all too quickly. Just as you felt your other foot slip, two hands appeared and gripped tightly onto your wrists and pulled you forward. Enough so that you collided with his body and one of his hands moved down to your hip to steady you.
Your eyes were screwed shut, a scream almost releasing from your throat, having expected the fall when his hands had steadied you against him. Slowly, trying to ease your breathing, your eyes fluttered open to find Neteyam in front of you, so close, closer than you thought he would ever be. His eyes were gold with specs of yellow and green in them.
They were scanning over you to make sure you were okay. Soft white freckles were scattered across his forehead and his nose, some so faint you had to lean in closer to see them. His hands were tough against your skin and you found yourself glancing down at his hold on you for a moment. He pulled away instantly when he saw where you were looking. He growled slightly under his breath and you felt his frustration in the way he avoided your stare.
“I know, I’m sorry, I almost had it—”
“You stopped, that's what happened. You stopped and you thought about it. You can’t afford to think out here. You think, you die. Thinking affects judgment and the speed at which you move,” he explained, hands outstretched and lips curled in a scowl, “You have to be quick, trust yourself, and trust your body.”
His voice was thick, deep, and laced with both an accent and irritation. You took in every word, knowing that if you wanted to survive if you wanted to learn and be trusted to be a part of the Omatikaya, you had to rely on everything he said. So, you ignored the attitude and simply nodded knowing it was his way or die.
“Understand?” he asked again, wanting more than a visible cue.
“Yes.”
“Okay,” he inhaled and began to step back further away from you, “Come on.”
There was no more running after that and he only led you a few feet over to a spot among the tree branches that thickened out and left a pocket to peer out at a small patch of the forest. It was cloudy so there wasn’t much sunlight, but it was enough to provide light between the trees. He took a seat and you followed suit. Just like that as if his hands hadn’t been wrapped around your waist five minutes before, you returned to learning the language.
Netetyam pointed both of his fingers at his nose, his gaze locked onto you as you sat in front of him, legs crossed over one another, “Ontu.”
“Ontu,” you repeated.
His fingers then moved to his ears, “Mikyun.”
You paused for a second and his stare intensified. Cautiously you said,“Mikun.”
He hissed slightly, repeating the word slower, “Mik-yun.”
“Mikyun.”
He hummed satisfied enough as he then pointed at his eyes, the same golden eyes you had found yourself staring at mere minutes ago when he had you held tightly against him. “Nari.”
“Nadi.”
“Nar-ri,” he said again.
“Nadi,” you tried, but it only came out sounding the same.
Leaning forward, he sent a swift flick to the side of your ear less than softly. Your ear flickered and flinched at the contact. You withheld yourself from barring your teeth to him as his stare only widened expectantly as his other hand still pointed at his eyes. “Naaariii!”
The avatar program was starting up again, just as things were changing for you. After days spent with countless lessons, you arrived back at the camp through the link pod to find Norm and Max waiting. They proposed the idea or more so forced it. You would put in practice, the sole individual with data to analyze but it would work. All because of your irresponsibility that had led you right into the hands of the Omatkikaya, they wanted to start a study of their own and continue Grace’s work. She more than anyone was fascinated by the biology of the forest but more so she found greater interest in the Na’vi and understanding how they worked.
They managed to power up the video cameras and they insisted, rather made it a requirement, that every day after you returned back from your body and the village, you would sit down and talk about your experience no matter how tired or belligerent you were. It was so serious and they were so focused on whatever data that you acquired, that they locked you out of both of Grace’s and Jake’s video logs, so yours remained genuine.
You were exhausted and that first night you didn’t have much to even reflect on, except that you had almost fallen to your death and the whole day was spent getting lectured and flicked at. A few times you found yourself pausing, wondering if you should even include Neteyam’s name within any of them in case you happened to say something you shouldn’t. Say something after he seemed to push your buttons just right one day and that led to you talking shit about him over the log. Then what would happen if one of his siblings managed to get their hands on it or even him? Your fear was embarrassing because not only did you hold in your emotions well, but you had managed to hold your tongue for days. Then again who knows how long that could last.
The second day in the village, you found yourself bursting out of your tent barely having woken up in your human body thirty minutes before. Somehow you still felt refreshed, and determined, more so to prove to Neteyam that you were more than what he thought you were: a useless dream walker. More than that, you wanted to prove to him that his attitude and his need to dislike you wouldn’t break you down. He wasn’t going to push you back to where you came from. You were there to learn and that’s what you were going to do.
You were surprised as you stepped out that the sun was shining and for a moment you slowed down to enjoy the way the warmth of the morning light reflected across your face. Just as you were about to take off again towards where Neteyam had told you to meet him the night before, the sound of your name was yelled out from just a few feet away.
Looking over your shoulder, you found Lo’ak jogging over to you, his hair pulled back of his face and a curious glint in his eyes. “Hey, what’s the rush?”
“I have to go Lo’ak,” you replied, beginning to walk into the direction of the field again, “I can’t be late.”
Reaching out, his hand took a hold of your wrist pulling you back, a smirk dancing across his face. You sighed. He was in another one of his flirty moods and you didn’t have the time or the energy for it. Especially, since all of these years you were convinced he only was like this to practice for when it actually would come in use one day. You bit your tongue to not let that notion slip as his thumb ran softly against the inside of your wrist.
“I feel like I never get to see you. You can’t spare a second?”
“It’s your brother, so what do you think?” The sarcasm was evident, it practically dripping as you dropped your respectful facade in front of the youngest Sully son.
He chuckled, face lighting up as he clicked his tongue over into the direction of where he knew Neteyam was waiting, “You’re right. Go.”
He released your hand, you winked up at him and smiled before taking off again into a jog. You moved around children and women of the village getting an early start on chores. The sun had barely reached the top of the sky when you found the field and Neteyam. He stood against a rock, arms crossed over his chest, chewing on his bottom lip in thought. His ears flickered at the sound of your heavy footsteps and when he looked up, he found you barreling toward him.
Your hands were stretched out towards him, “I’m here. I’m here.”
It had rained the day before and most of that first night you came to the village, something you hadn’t taken into account. Evident in the way as you went to slow down, your heels digging into the ground, you struggled to find traction in the mud. Instead, you slid across, colliding straight with Neteyam. His hands found your shoulders and for the second time in two days, he found himself steadying you. Something you were starting to strangely get used to. His expression of surprise narrowed as you looked up at him, shoulders raised innocently.
“Hi,” you said quietly.
He just pushed you back from him, releasing his touch from around your arms. You tried not to take note of how it left you slightly cold but focused on the annoyance laced across his face. “We should get started.”
“Okay, what are we doing today?”
He didn’t respond to your question and at first, you were going to ask again, but you stopped yourself as he placed his fingers within his mouth and let out a loud whistle. It was so loud you found yourself wincing slightly but looked onto the forest as the sound of something approaching caught your attention. You stepped back near Neteyam but he only chuckled as the creature appeared. It was strong, with hard-scaled skin, four eyes, and six legs. A direhorse or as the Na’vi people called them, a pal’i. Neteyam gripped the rope around the creature’s nose and guided it closer.
You approached them slowly, and he took in the way you scanned over the direhorse in slight amazement. Your hand reached out, brushing against its tough skin across its side. Its queues resembled ears as it flickered back behind its head. With your hand still pressed against her side, feeling the way she breathed, Neteyam nodded up, a silent command to get on.
You were hesitant at first but obliged. It took a couple of tries, the horse far taller than you thought it’d be, but as you jumped the third time, hands grasping at its hard exterior, you swung one leg over the side of it and signed with relief. Neteyam held onto the rope still peering up at you as you adjusted yourself rather uncomfortably. Then taking the direhorse’s queue he handed it over to you. You grabbed your own, the long braid feeling heavy in your hand.
“Tsaheylu?” you asked, glancing from your queue to the horse’s able to see the nerve fibers dancing out of either of them.
He nodded, “The bond.”
At his words you connected them and gasped, inhaling deeply as what felt like a spark traveled from the queue across your spine into your brain and then continued to spread throughout your entire body. Your pupils dilated confirming the bond. Neteyam held tightly to the pal’i’s rope as the horse rose on its hind legs out of surprise, a noise falling from its mouth. He calmed it back down as you worked on finding your breathing again but as you did it all felt different. With your hands pressed along the sides of the horse, you realized then that your breathing was in sync. That somehow and some way, you were able to feel everything the horse was. It was almost as if you could see through her eyes and control her own heartbeat.
“Feel her,” Neteyam finally spoke, his own hand pressed along the horse close to yours, “Feel her heartbeat. Her breath. Her legs. You can tell her what to do, inside of you.”
Staring down at him, you watched as he slowly let go of the rope, nodding towards the queues which you gripped firmly in your palms. “Now, tell her where to go.”
Taking in a deep breath, you nodded, letting her heartbeat guide you. “Walk forward. Slowly.”
The sound of your voice transferred to her ears and slowly she stepped forward beginning to move. Your breath hitched in your throat but then eased as she listened to what you said and began to walk. Neteyam followed you, slightly impressed by your deliberate command as your words were chosen carefully. You smiled then as you asked her to continue forward but speed up slightly. It was as if you felt like you were the one running yourself.
Neteyam found himself smiling slightly to himself, watching you experience the bond for the first time; the way it heightened your senses and brought everything new to light. If you loved this wait until you got to form a bond with an Ikran. There was nothing like flying, up there with no bounds, no limitations — just you and the sky. That was his favorite thing Tsaheylu had ever given him.
For the next few hours, you rode, you focused, and you practiced giving commands and telling her to stop. You had only slipped off a couple of times but always seemed to land perfectly on your feet. Trust your body, you kept reminding yourself of what Neteyam had told you the day before, and somehow even with this, it was working. It didn’t last for very long though.
As you gotten used to speeding up and advising the pal’i to turn in any direction you commanded, you had let your guard done. Your focus had wandered the longer you rode her. Just as you hit the two-hour mark, you were unaware of the eyes watching you from afar. Neytiri stood arms crossed over her chest with Jake appearing not far behind her. He stood next to her and nodded approvingly toward you.
However as Lo’ak returned back to the village, just on the edge of the forest, his eyes took in the way you moved almost effortlessly and the overconfidence that was clear across your face. Stepping out from behind some bushes, he placed two of his fingers into his mouth and let out a high-pitched whistle, louder than the one Neteyam had delivered earlier. It was so loud, it distracted you but only for a mere second. With your mind wandering away the pal’i got spooked by the sound and raised on its hind legs taking you by complete surprise. You felt your queue break loose and you fell backward, bouncing off the back of the horse straight to the ground, landing into a pile of mud.
Neteyam signed in disapproval before chasing after the horse, catching it within seconds. As he walked back, he found his younger brother standing over you, hands on his knees bellowing in laughter. You moved up onto your knees, able to feel the mud sticking across your entire front and some of your face. He rolled his eyes but stopped the action as he found his parents nearby watching the entire lesson unfold. Neytiri smiled in amusement catching her husband’s eyes as Lo’ak took your hands and helped you to your feet. You began to wipe at the mud on your arms but in dismay as that didn’t help in the slightest.
“Does she remind you of anyone?” Neytiri asked and Jake could only chuckle under his breath.
You spit towards the ground able to feel the mud within your mouth and upon your tongue. Lo’ak stood in front of you laughing unable to stop himself even as you glared up at him.
“Holy shit, now that was awesome,” he grinned, not intimidated in the least by you.
He reached forward, his hand brushing the braid in front of your eyes behind your ear, touch lingering far longer than it should. Neteyam approached, the rope of the direhorse wrapped up in his palm. His steps faltered slightly as he found the two of you. You try to wipe the mud from your face and Lo’ak’s hand lingering near your cheek. You slapped his hand away though in anger and the boy bursted out laughing again.
Neteyam continued walking and pointed his glare in the same direction you were, “Lo’ak, what the fuck are you doing?”
“Hey, brother,” the younger Sully boy grinned, crossing his arms across his chest as he bumped your shoulder with his teasingly.
You felt like shoving him right into that pile of mud and who would be laughing then. You were doing well, really well and then he went and embarrassed you not only in front of Neteyam but in front of their parents. You hissed over at him stepping away, losing his contact altogether.
“Just having a little fun.”
“Having a little fun?” Neteyam hissed, his hand reaching out as if he was going to push him over too. “What is wrong with you? Just once you can’t behave. Just once. You always have to be an A-class distraction and pain in the ass.”
“It’s not that big of a deal,” Lo’ak argued.
“Go, just go. Before you do anything else to piss me off.”
The two brothers stared at one another, neither of them backing down. You glanced between the two of them, hands raised in the air waiting to see which one would eventually give in first. It wouldn't be Neteyam, you knew that. Because even though his brother took him for granted and often blamed him for so much, Neteyam was the future Olo’eyktan and that meant so much even to Lo’ak.
Lo’ak groaned slightly and took a step back lifting his hands up as if he were surrendering. He sent one more glance in your direction, a sly smirk appearing on his lips as he turned fully around and wandered off. Neteyam’s intense glare then shifted to you.
You sighed, already knowing what it meant, “And what did I do?”
“You weren’t focused.”
“Focused? Are you kidding me,” you argued, “Lo’ak was the one to… the pal’i got spooked.”
He shook his head as if everything you were saying to him was complete and utter bullshit and you were starting to get tired of it. “You weren’t thinking.”
“So, what yesterday you tell me not to think, and today I am supposed to?” you snapped at him, still trying to rid yourself from the mud slapped across your body and your face. The feeling was suffocating almost nearly as much as his eyes and accusing tone were.
“It’s different.”
You huffed flailing your arms to get the mud off your hands and felt some satisfaction in the way it flew onto him and stuck to his chest. “Well, how about you make up your mind and tell me what you want me to do and I will do it.”
Somehow all those times he had looked at you, the glares accompanied by the lectures were nothing compared to how his entire body and face shifted at your outburst. He was the future Olo’eyktan and the only ones who talked to him like that were his parents. His parents that he usually gave reasons for them to talk to him that way. You, on the other hand, had no right to talk to him that way. You were a nobody. A mere inconvenience he was stuck with and teaching anyways. He committed to spending countless hours and days with you to teach you. It was like his entire face hardened, his stare becoming ice cold and you knew then if he didn’t hate you before he definitely did now.
Somehow you didn’t back down though, you held the same stare, mirroring his with all the effort you had. You didn’t have room to feel anxious or worried about the repercussions, you just couldn’t. Before any other words could be said though, you felt two hands gently take a hold of your arms and pull you back away from Neteyam. It was Kiri, she had witnessed the arguing from a few feet away and had heard most of it, your last sentence had urged her forward to stop her brother from saying anything more that he might regret.
“Okay, why don’t we go and just take a little break,” Kiri urged, finally making eye contact with Neteyam. Her interference seemed to only anger him more.
“What she’s a little afraid of some mud now? There are worse things out there,” he exasperated pointing at the forest and it took Kiri to drag you away from her older brother.
“Neteyam, just take a couple of hours to cool off, okay?” she said, both her hands still steering you in the opposite direction.
As she took you away in the forest, your blood was still boiling and your skin was hot to the touch. His words began to replay in your head. “I swear I could—”
“I’m going to cut you off right there,” Kiri interrupted, chuckling lightly as she led you further and further into the forest to get you cleaned up, and give you some space to talk, “It’s probably best not to threaten the future clan leader.”
“He is just so… ugh,” you yelled, your voice reverberating across the trees of the forest and Kiri had to contain herself from laughing.
Though she agreed her older brother was acting like a total asshole, the fact that you showed any ounce of anger was laughable to her because for all these years you had been the calmest and most collected person. Lo’ak could push your buttons all he wanted and most of the time you would ignore it, other times possibly deliver some sarcasm his way.
This though was a whole new side of you she had never witnessed and she wasn’t entirely sure how to deal with it. Neteyam brought out crazy eyes from you and the urge to scream and punch something. It was a side you hadn’t been entirely sure you even had in the first place.
“Yeah, he is being quite difficult isn’t he?”
“Difficult?” You laughed, the sarcasm in your voice interlaced with annoyance, “More like impossible.”
Eventually, you approached a nearby stream and you sat down on the edge, unable to keep your body still as Kiri undid the braids in your hair. There was more mud stuck within your hair than you had noticed before and as Kiri pointed it out, you felt yourself think back to the whole afternoon. Eventually, as you slumped down into the river and began to rub your skin, you felt Kiri looking over at you with an amused expression on her face.
“What?” you asked, “This isn’t funny, Kiri. Your brother hates me.”
She laughed and rolled her eyes, having never taken you as the dramatic type, “Hates you? Okay, I think you’re pushing it on that one. Neteyam could never hate anyone. Sure, he has that little warrior act down, but underneath all that he’s just a moody nineteen-year-old. I mean, of course, he can come off as bossy most of the time, but he is incapable of hating someone, especially when he’s only known them for a few days. He’s known you for two.”
“So, you think there’s a chance he could like me?” you asked, already knowing the answer but curious about her take on the whole situation.
“I never said that,” she smirked to which you sighed, sinking down further into the stream to let the cool water weigh you down. She waited a moment as you dipped your head back letting it wash over your face and your hair.
As you reappeared and began to wipe the water from your eyes, she offered you a look of reassurance, “Look, I will admit he’s been acting like a dick. But you have to realize he’s known you for all of five minutes. Then add in the responsibility of having to teach you about how we live on top of everything else he has going on, that would make anyone a little bit stressed.”
You hummed, letting the water lap up against your lips as you stared forward at the deep blue water in thought. Mostly about whether or not this was a good idea. Whether appearing in the village and uprooting people’s lives was something you should have considered before you agreed to let them take you here. Or maybe far before that when Norm and Max even offered to give you the avatar. You were naive to think that given this body people would be able to accept you quickly just because you looked as they did.
Kiri noticed the way you were lost in thought, staring forward with mud slipping down the side of your face. She said your name at least twice and it took her splashing water at you to even get you to acknowledge that she was talking. It was like she could read what you were thinking because, with a small tilt of her head, she smiled lightly as if to tell you there was nothing to worry about. “He just needs time, Y/N. While he was busy being trained by my father, we had a seven-year head start getting to know you. He’ll come around, I promise. It would be impossible for him not to like you.”
“Really?” you asked, softly.
“Are you kidding? He would be crazy not to,” she assured, before beginning to laugh again as something else occupied her mind, “Which reminds me, what the fuck has been going on with Lo’ak lately?”
Your brows furrowed, “What do you mean?”
“Have you seriously not noticed him lately? The extra annoyingness. The compliments. The sudden need to pop up everywhere you are,” she said, watching as slowly with every observation she pointed out, you began to realize exactly what she was hinting to.
“No.”
“Yes,” she laughed, “Hey, if Neteyam turns out to hate you, at least you’ll know Lo’ak will like you enough for the both of them.”
⤷Synopsis: In which Neteyam, tries to court Y/N, a girl so clueless where she always mistakes his flirting for being a good friend,leaving a frustrated warrior to wonder how to win a heart that can't take a hint.
⤷Warning: cringe ahead, sorry :(( Masterlist
── .✦ Neteyam often wondered if the Great Mother had simply forgotten to give Y/N the instinct part of her brain.
As the eldest son of Toruk Makto, Neteyam was trained to see everything. He noticed the slight shift in the wind before a storm, the hidden shimmer of a thanator eyes in the dark, and the way his father looked at his mother when he thought no one was watching. He was a creature of subtext and precision. Y/N, however, was a creature of pure, unfiltered sunshine—and she was driving him absolutely insane.
He watched her now from the edge of the clearing, his heart doing that annoying, frantic flip it only did for her.
Y/N was currently sitting in a patch of phosphorescence moss, her tongue poked out in concentration as she tried to teach a group of small forest children how to make whistles out of seed pods. She was a vision of chaotic grace, her braids were perpetually messy, often caught with stray leaves or glowing spores she hadn't bothered to brush off. To the rest of the clan, she was a sweetheart with her head in the floating mountains. To Neteyam, she was the only girl who mattered.
From Neteyam’s perspective, his life had become a series of failed romantic gestures that Y/N consistently mistook for community service or extreme friendship. He would spend hours practicing his smoldering warrior look in the reflection of a river, only for Y/N to walk up to him and ask if he had something stuck in his eye.
"You're squinting, Neteyam," she would say, leaning in so close he could see the gold flecks in her irises. "Is it a bug? Do you want me to blow on it?"
He didn't want her to blow on his eye, he wanted her to realize that he was looking at her with the intensity of a thousand eclipses. But Y/N was the kind of girl who would find a bouquet of rare, romantic flowers left at her sleeping mat and assume the wind had simply been very organized that morning.
She wasn't stupid—far from it. She could track a palulukan through a swamp and recite the history of their ancestors. But when it came to the language of the heart, she was effectively illiterate. She treated every Na'vi in the clan with the same bubbly, gentle kindness, which meant Neteyam’s special treatment didn't feel "special" to her. It just felt like Neteyam being Neteyam.
To her, Neteyam was the reliable, strong, slightly-too-serious boy she had grown up with. He was the one who pulled her out of thorn-bushes and shared his fruit. In her mind, they were a team—like two brothers, or a pair of very close cousins. The idea that he might want to Tsaheylu with her was a concept that sat somewhere outside her realm of possibility, right next to the idea of a mountain flying away.
Neteyam would watch her from across the fire, his tail twitching in agitation as she laughed at something Lo'ak said, or as she carefully mended a tear in a child's loincloth. He was a warrior of the Omatikaya, a warrior who could take down a bull with a single arrow, yet he couldn't figure out how to tell Y/N he loved her without her thanking him for his "excellent communication skills."
He knew that if he didn't do something drastic, he would spend the rest of his life being her "best friend," watching her accidentally marry someone else because she thought the wedding ceremony was just a really long, fancy dinner party.
Neteyam took a breath, puffing out his chest as he stepped into the bioluminescent clearing. He watched as a glowing woodsprite tried to land on Y/N’s messy braids, and she actually giggled, leaning her head back to give the little creature a better landing spot.
"Y/N," he called out, his voice deeper than usual.
She looked up, her golden eyes widening with that signature, heart-stopping brightness. "teyam! Come quick! I think I finally figured out the seed pod whistle, but it only works if you hold your breath and wish really hard."
He didn't sit in the moss with the children. Instead, he reached down and took her hand, pulling her gently but firmly to her feet. The kids whispered and giggled, sensing the tension, but Y/N just blinked at him, tilting her head.
"Oh! Is it time for training? I forgot we were supposed to practice our tree-skipping," she said, already looking for her bow.
"No training," Neteyam said, his thumb grazing the back of her hand. He leaned in close, his height towering over her, his shadow enveloping her small frame. "I want to show you something. In the High Grove. Alone."
Y/N’s eyes sparkled. "A secret? Is it a new hunting trail? Or did you find that weird purple fruit that makes your tongue go numb? I love those!"
Neteyam closed his eyes for a moment, silently asking Eywa for strength. "No, Y/N. It’s not a numb-tongue fruit. Just... follow me."
He led her away from the camp, his hand never letting go of hers. He led her to a secluded ledge that overlooked the valley, where the trees breathed in rhythm and the stars looked close enough to touch. He turned to her, reaching into his pouch to pull out a necklace he had spent weeks making. It was made of rare sea-glass and a single, polished tooth from a palulukan a trophy of immense courage.
"Y/N," he whispered, stepping into her personal space until their chests were almost touching. He lifted the necklace, the light reflecting in his serious, intense eyes. "I made this for you. Not for the children, not for the elders, and not for the clan. For you."
Y/N looked at the priceless trophy, then up at Neteyam’s burning gaze. Her bottom lip trembled slightly.
"Neteyam..." she breathed, her voice soft.
Finally, he thought. The moment of realization.
"This is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," she said, taking the necklace. Then, her face broke into a look of pure, agonizing pity. "You’ve been working so hard on your crafting skills because you’re worried you aren't a good enough warrior, aren't you? Oh, Neteyam, you don't have to prove anything to me! You’re already the best friend I have. You don't need to give me bribes to stay your friend!"
She threw her arms around his neck in a tight, friendly squeeze, patting his back like he was a sad ikran.
Neteyam stood there, frozen, the rare necklace dangling between them. He could feel her heartbeat against his, but all he could think was that he was officially the most frustrated man on Pandora.
♡
After the necklace disaster on the ledge, he decided to stop using objects and start using instincts. If she couldn't read his intentions in a gift, he would have to make her feel them in his presence.
The opportunity came the following morning.
Attempt One
They were trekking through a dense part of the Olangi forest, the giant ferns curling over them like emerald ribs. The ground was slick with morning dew. Neteyam noticed Y/N ahead of him, skipping over roots with her usual chaotic grace, her head tilted back to watch a swarm of wood-sprites.
"Watch your step, Y/N," Neteyam warned, his voice low.
Naturally, she didn't. She tripped over a protruding vine, and in a flash, Neteyam was there. He didn't just catch her; he pulled her flush against his chest, his strong arms wrapping around her waist to steady her. He kept her there longer than necessary, his chin resting against the top of her messy head, his heart thudding a rhythmic confession against her back.
"I have you," he murmured, his voice vibrating deep in his chest, meant to be intimate and grounding.
Y/N leaned back into him, a soft sigh escaping her. Neteyam felt a surge of victory—until she spoke.
"Wow, teyam! Your reflexes are getting so fast," she chirped, patting his muscular forearms like he was a particularly talented pack-animal. "It’s so comforting knowing you’re practicing your 'save-the-clumsy-scout' drills on me. You’re going to be such a responsible leader. No one will ever stub a toe on your watch!"
She hopped out of his grip, giving him a bright, oblivious thumbs-up before skipping further into the brush. Neteyam stood alone, his arms still shaped like they were holding her, his jaw tight enough to snap a tooth.
Attempt two
The sun was beginning to dip, painting the sky in bruised purples and golds. Neteyam found Y/N sitting on a thick branch overlooking the river, her feet dangling over the edge. Her hair was, as usual, a catastrophe. She had somehow managed to get sticky tree sap and several glowing feathers tangled into her braids.
Neteyam climbed the tree with silent, predatory grace, sitting directly behind her. He didn't ask. He simply reached out and began to unbind her hair.His fingers moved slowly, his knuckles grazing the sensitive skin of her neck. To any other Na'vi girl, this was an incredibly intimate act—a silent request to be more than friends. He leaned in so close he could smell the sweet, wild nectar of her skin, his chest almost brushing her back.
"teyam?" she murmured, her head tilting back slightly.
He felt a spark of hope. "Yes, Y/N?" he whispered, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly vibration against her ear. He let his fingers linger on her pulse point, feeling the steady thrum of her life.
"You're so sweet," she sighed, closing her eyes. "My mother always says I’m too messy to find a mate, but you... you treat me like a sibling! It's so nice of you to help me stay presentable so I don't embarrass the Chief's family. You really are like the brother I never had."
Neteyam’s hand jerked, nearly snagging a knot. "I am not your brother, Y/N."
"I know! You're better," she chirped, turning around on the branch to face him. She was so close their noses almost touched, her golden eyes sparkling with pure, platonic affection. "You're like a professional groomer! If you ever get tired of being a warrior, you could definitely help the elders with their ceremonial headdresses."
Neteyam stared at her, his jaw ticking. He wanted to shake her. He wanted to kiss her until she forgot the word 'brother.' Instead, he just handed her the feathers he’d pulled from her hair and climbed down the tree without a word.
Attempt three
The clan was sharing a meal after a long day. Usually, Neteyam sat with his brothers, but tonight, he walked straight to Y/N. He didn't just sit next to her, he sat so close their thighs were pressed together from hip to knee.
When Y/N reached for a piece of roasted fruit, Neteyam’s hand shot out, catching her wrist mid-air. He didn't let go. He picked up a piece of the best meat—the hunter’s portion—and held it to her lips.
"teyam?" she blinked, her cheeks turning a light mauve. "I have hands, you know! I'm not a baby forest-bird."
"Eat," he commanded, his voice a low, possessive rumble that vibrated through her. He ignored the stares from the other young hunters. He wanted them to see him feeding her. He wanted them to know she was being provided for by him alone.
Y/N took the bite, giggling as juice dripped down her chin. "Oh! You’re practicing being a father-figure! That’s so sweet, teyam. You’re making sure the 'weakest' member of the group is fed first. You’re going to be such a charitable Chief!"
Neteyam’s jaw tightened so hard it ached. He didn't say a word, he just wiped the juice from her lip with his thumb, pressing a little too hard, staring at her mouth with a hunger that had nothing to do with food.
Attempt Four
The forest was heavy with the scent of blooming night-nectar. Neteyam had found a cluster of rare sweet-drop fruits—small, glowing berries that only grew in the highest canopy. They were a traditional gift for courting, known for being as sweet as a first kiss.
He found Y/N sitting on a low-hanging branch, swinging her legs and trying to whistle back at a distant banshee. Neteyam climbed up, sitting so close that their shoulders were pinned together. He didn't say a word as he pulled a single, shimmering berry from his pouch.
"Y/N," he murmured, his voice dropping into that low, velvet tone that usually made the other girls in the clan blush.
She turned, her golden eyes widening at the sight of the fruit. "Oh! Are those the rare ones? The ones that are hard to find?"
"They are," Neteyam said, his gaze fixed intently on her lips. He didn't hand her the berry. Instead, he held it between his fingers and moved it slowly toward her mouth. It was a bold, intimate gesture—an invitation. "Taste it."
He watched her, his breath catching as his fingers brushed against her bottom lip. He leaned in, his face so close he could see the tiny pulse in her neck jumping. He was certain—absolutely certain—that she could feel the heavy, romantic tension thick enough to cut with a knife.
Y/N took the bite, her eyes closing as she hummed in delight. "Mmm, it's amazing, teyam!"
She opened her eyes, and for a second, she stayed there, inches from his face. Neteyam felt his heart hammering against his ribs. He started to lean in that last inch, his eyes fluttering shut—
"You're such a dedicated provider!" she suddenly chirped, patting his cheek with a sticky hand. "You’re practicing your 'feeding the wounded' skills, aren't you? My dad said a great warrior needs to be able to nourish the weak during a long march. You’re going to be the most charitable leader ever! You even make sure I get the snacks first!"
Neteyam’s head dropped onto her shoulder with a thud of pure exhaustion. "I am not... trying to be... charitable," he muffled into her skin.
"Don't be modest!" she laughed, braiding a small vine into his hair as a 'thank you.' "You’re the most selfless friend in the whole forest. Now, come on! I think I saw a weird bug over there that looks like your dad’s bow!"
Neteyam stayed on the branch long after she hopped down. He stared at the remaining berries, wondering if he should just start wearing a sign that said 'I AM IN LOVE WITH YOU' in giant, glowing letters.
The silence of the forest offered no advice, only the mocking rustle of leaves.
Last Attempt
After the berries, he promised himself one final, undeniable gesture. No more games, no more symbols. He would use the ancient language of their people—the Tsaheylu of the eyes—to show her exactly what he felt before the words ever left his lips.
They had stopped by a high, secluded pool where the water fell in silver ribbons. As Y/N leaned down to drink, Neteyam stepped into her space, blocking the light. When she looked up, he didn't pull away. He dropped to one knee, bringing his face inches from hers, his golden eyes burning with a raw, terrifying honesty. He reached out, his thumb grazing the line of her jaw, holding her gaze with a silence so heavy it should have been impossible to ignore. He was baring his soul, waiting for the flicker of realization to finally cross her face.
Y/N blinked, her expression shifting from surprise to a gentle, heartbreaking concern. She reached up, not to hold his hand, but to pat his forehead. "teyam, you’re glowing so bright... are you getting a fever? You should really lie down."
The frustration had reached a boiling point, simmering just beneath Neteyam’s skin like the heat of a forest fire. He watched her skip away, her laughter echoing through the trees, and for the first time in his life, his warrior's discipline failed him.
♡
Final Snap
He spent the rest of the night in silence, his tail twitching in a sharp, rhythmic lash that warned even his siblings to stay away. He didn't want to be charitable. He didn't want to be selfless. He wanted to be the only thing she saw when she closed her eyes at night.
The moon rose high, casting long, distorted shadows across the forest floor. The air grew thick with the scent of damp moss and impending rain, but as the rest of the clan settled into their hammocks, Neteyam’s eyes remained wide. Every time he blinked, he felt the ghost of her sticky hand on his cheek and heard the echo of her calling him a provider.
He needed to end the games. He needed to strip away the wholesome lens she viewed him through and force her to see the hunter beneath the prince.
When he finally spotted her silhouette by the edge of the river, her messy braids glowing faintly in the dark, the last of his patience snapped. He wasn't going to bring a gift. He wasn't going to offer a snack. He was going to take what he had been trying to give her for months.
Neteyam marched through the shallow water, his footsteps heavy and purposeful. The bioluminescent ripples fled from him, but he didn't care about stealth anymore.
"Y/N," he said. It wasn't a question. It was a command.
She turned around, her eyes bright. "Neteyam! You're back! Did you find that bug? I was just thinking about how the water looks like—"
"Stop," he rasped, closing the distance between them in two strides. He grabbed her wrists, not painfully, but with a firm, grounding grip that forced her to look up at him. "No more bugs. No more whistles. No more 'training drills.'"
Y/N blinked, her head tilting in that familiar, innocent way. "Are you okay? You’re breathing like you just ran from a palulukan. Do you need some of that cooling moss? I can go get—"
"I don't need moss, Y/N! I need you to listen!" Neteyam’s voice cracked with months of suppressed longing. "You think that necklace was for a 'friend'? It was a trophy of my spirit—I was giving you my soul. When I groomed your hair, I wasn't being a brother; I was marking you. Every gift, every hunt... I wasn't being 'charitable.' I was trying to claim you.!.
Y/N stared at him, her lips parting. For a second, a flicker of understanding crossed her face, but then she gave a small, nervous laugh. "Oh! You’re... you’re doing a play! Like the ones the elders do about the old days? Wow, Neteyam, your acting is so realistic, you almost had me—"
"It is not a play!" Neteyam snapped. He was shaking now, his warrior's mask completely shattered. "I am in love with you! I have been in love with you since we were children! Every time I look at you, I am dying. Every time you call me a 'friend,' it’s like a knife to my heart. Do you really not see it? Or are you just trying to drive me mad?"
Y/N’s smile wavered. She looked at his hands trembling on her wrists, then at the raw, burning desperation in his golden eyes. "Neteyam... I... I thought we were just... I mean, you're the Prince. You're so perfect. Why would you want someone as distracted as me? You're just being... really nice, right?"
That was it. The final nice.
Neteyam let out a low, guttural growl of pure frustration. He didn't wait for her to finish. He pulled her forward, his hand sliding into her messy, spore-filled braids to tilt her head back, and he crashed his lips against hers.
It wasn't a gentle kiss. It was a firm, possessive, "I-have-waited-too-long" kiss. It was the kiss of a hunter who had finally caught his prize.
Y/N froze, her breath hitching in her throat. The world around them—the glowing trees, the rushing water, the distant banshee cries—all of it vanished. There was only the heat of Neteyam’s mouth and the solid weight of his body against hers.
When he finally pulled back, just an inch, his forehead stayed pressed against hers. He was panting, his eyes dark and blown wide.
"Do you think I'm being 'nice' now?" he whispered against her lips.
Y/N’s hands, which had been hanging at her sides, slowly traveled up his chest, her fingers curling into his skin. She looked up at him, her face a deep, glowing violet, her eyes finally—finally—clear.
"Oh," she breathed, her voice a tiny, shaky hum. "That... that wasn't very 'brotherly' at all."
"Good," Neteyam muttered, before leaning down to claim her all over again.
♡
The next morning, the entire Olangi clan knew. They didn't need an announcement; they just had to look at Neteyam.
The stoic, serious warrior had been replaced by a shadow. Wherever Y/N went, Neteyam was exactly two inches behind her. He didn't just walk with her, he hovered, his tail constantly entwined with hers, his hand resting firmly on the small of her back as if telling the world, "This one is taken".
Y/N, for her part, was still her usual bubbly self—only now, she was a very well-kissed version of it.
"Neteyam, look!" she chirped, stopping by a cluster of puff-plants. "If you squeeze them, they make a funny popping sound. Do you want to try?"
In the past, Neteyam would have sighed and told her they had to keep moving. Now, he simply leaned down, tucked a stray leaf behind her ear, and hummed against her temple. "If you want to pop the plants, my love, we will pop the plants."
He reached out and squeezed a puff-plant, his eyes never leaving her face.
The clan watched in amusement. Lo'ak leaned against a tree, snickering as he watched his tough older brother carry Y/N’s basket, her gathering pouch, and even a particularly round rock she had decided was too pretty to leave behind.
"Hey, brother!" Lo'ak called out. "You're looking awfully... helpful today! Is that some more 'community service' you're doing?"
Neteyam didn't even look at his brother. He simply pulled Y/N closer to his side, his arm tightening around her waist in a silent, possessive grip. "She’s not a project, Lo'ak. She’s my mate."
Y/N beamed, standing on her tiptoes to press a quick, messy kiss to Neteyam’s jaw. "He’s still very helpful, though," she whispered loudly to Lo'ak. "He’s even better at kissing than he is at hunting!"
Neteyam’s ears turned a deep shade of indigo, but for the first time in months, he didn't feel frustrated. He just let out a low, satisfied purr and began to help her collect more pretty rocks.
He finally had her instinct, her heart, and her attention. And if he had to spend the rest of his life being helpful to the girl who owned his soul, he decided he wouldn't have it any other way.
⤷Synopsis: In which Neteyam, tries to court Y/N, a girl so clueless where she always mistakes his flirting for being a good friend,leaving a frustrated warrior to wonder how to win a heart that can't take a hint.
⤷Warning: cringe ahead, sorry :(( Masterlist
── .✦ Neteyam often wondered if the Great Mother had simply forgotten to give Y/N the instinct part of her brain.
As the eldest son of Toruk Makto, Neteyam was trained to see everything. He noticed the slight shift in the wind before a storm, the hidden shimmer of a thanator eyes in the dark, and the way his father looked at his mother when he thought no one was watching. He was a creature of subtext and precision. Y/N, however, was a creature of pure, unfiltered sunshine—and she was driving him absolutely insane.
He watched her now from the edge of the clearing, his heart doing that annoying, frantic flip it only did for her.
Y/N was currently sitting in a patch of phosphorescence moss, her tongue poked out in concentration as she tried to teach a group of small forest children how to make whistles out of seed pods. She was a vision of chaotic grace, her braids were perpetually messy, often caught with stray leaves or glowing spores she hadn't bothered to brush off. To the rest of the clan, she was a sweetheart with her head in the floating mountains. To Neteyam, she was the only girl who mattered.
From Neteyam’s perspective, his life had become a series of failed romantic gestures that Y/N consistently mistook for community service or extreme friendship. He would spend hours practicing his smoldering warrior look in the reflection of a river, only for Y/N to walk up to him and ask if he had something stuck in his eye.
"You're squinting, Neteyam," she would say, leaning in so close he could see the gold flecks in her irises. "Is it a bug? Do you want me to blow on it?"
He didn't want her to blow on his eye, he wanted her to realize that he was looking at her with the intensity of a thousand eclipses. But Y/N was the kind of girl who would find a bouquet of rare, romantic flowers left at her sleeping mat and assume the wind had simply been very organized that morning.
She wasn't stupid—far from it. She could track a palulukan through a swamp and recite the history of their ancestors. But when it came to the language of the heart, she was effectively illiterate. She treated every Na'vi in the clan with the same bubbly, gentle kindness, which meant Neteyam’s special treatment didn't feel "special" to her. It just felt like Neteyam being Neteyam.
To her, Neteyam was the reliable, strong, slightly-too-serious boy she had grown up with. He was the one who pulled her out of thorn-bushes and shared his fruit. In her mind, they were a team—like two brothers, or a pair of very close cousins. The idea that he might want to Tsaheylu with her was a concept that sat somewhere outside her realm of possibility, right next to the idea of a mountain flying away.
Neteyam would watch her from across the fire, his tail twitching in agitation as she laughed at something Lo'ak said, or as she carefully mended a tear in a child's loincloth. He was a warrior of the Omatikaya, a warrior who could take down a bull with a single arrow, yet he couldn't figure out how to tell Y/N he loved her without her thanking him for his "excellent communication skills."
He knew that if he didn't do something drastic, he would spend the rest of his life being her "best friend," watching her accidentally marry someone else because she thought the wedding ceremony was just a really long, fancy dinner party.
Neteyam took a breath, puffing out his chest as he stepped into the bioluminescent clearing. He watched as a glowing woodsprite tried to land on Y/N’s messy braids, and she actually giggled, leaning her head back to give the little creature a better landing spot.
"Y/N," he called out, his voice deeper than usual.
She looked up, her golden eyes widening with that signature, heart-stopping brightness. "teyam! Come quick! I think I finally figured out the seed pod whistle, but it only works if you hold your breath and wish really hard."
He didn't sit in the moss with the children. Instead, he reached down and took her hand, pulling her gently but firmly to her feet. The kids whispered and giggled, sensing the tension, but Y/N just blinked at him, tilting her head.
"Oh! Is it time for training? I forgot we were supposed to practice our tree-skipping," she said, already looking for her bow.
"No training," Neteyam said, his thumb grazing the back of her hand. He leaned in close, his height towering over her, his shadow enveloping her small frame. "I want to show you something. In the High Grove. Alone."
Y/N’s eyes sparkled. "A secret? Is it a new hunting trail? Or did you find that weird purple fruit that makes your tongue go numb? I love those!"
Neteyam closed his eyes for a moment, silently asking Eywa for strength. "No, Y/N. It’s not a numb-tongue fruit. Just... follow me."
He led her away from the camp, his hand never letting go of hers. He led her to a secluded ledge that overlooked the valley, where the trees breathed in rhythm and the stars looked close enough to touch. He turned to her, reaching into his pouch to pull out a necklace he had spent weeks making. It was made of rare sea-glass and a single, polished tooth from a palulukan a trophy of immense courage.
"Y/N," he whispered, stepping into her personal space until their chests were almost touching. He lifted the necklace, the light reflecting in his serious, intense eyes. "I made this for you. Not for the children, not for the elders, and not for the clan. For you."
Y/N looked at the priceless trophy, then up at Neteyam’s burning gaze. Her bottom lip trembled slightly.
"Neteyam..." she breathed, her voice soft.
Finally, he thought. The moment of realization.
"This is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," she said, taking the necklace. Then, her face broke into a look of pure, agonizing pity. "You’ve been working so hard on your crafting skills because you’re worried you aren't a good enough warrior, aren't you? Oh, Neteyam, you don't have to prove anything to me! You’re already the best friend I have. You don't need to give me bribes to stay your friend!"
She threw her arms around his neck in a tight, friendly squeeze, patting his back like he was a sad ikran.
Neteyam stood there, frozen, the rare necklace dangling between them. He could feel her heartbeat against his, but all he could think was that he was officially the most frustrated man on Pandora.
♡
After the necklace disaster on the ledge, he decided to stop using objects and start using instincts. If she couldn't read his intentions in a gift, he would have to make her feel them in his presence.
The opportunity came the following morning.
Attempt One
They were trekking through a dense part of the Olangi forest, the giant ferns curling over them like emerald ribs. The ground was slick with morning dew. Neteyam noticed Y/N ahead of him, skipping over roots with her usual chaotic grace, her head tilted back to watch a swarm of wood-sprites.
"Watch your step, Y/N," Neteyam warned, his voice low.
Naturally, she didn't. She tripped over a protruding vine, and in a flash, Neteyam was there. He didn't just catch her; he pulled her flush against his chest, his strong arms wrapping around her waist to steady her. He kept her there longer than necessary, his chin resting against the top of her messy head, his heart thudding a rhythmic confession against her back.
"I have you," he murmured, his voice vibrating deep in his chest, meant to be intimate and grounding.
Y/N leaned back into him, a soft sigh escaping her. Neteyam felt a surge of victory—until she spoke.
"Wow, teyam! Your reflexes are getting so fast," she chirped, patting his muscular forearms like he was a particularly talented pack-animal. "It’s so comforting knowing you’re practicing your 'save-the-clumsy-scout' drills on me. You’re going to be such a responsible leader. No one will ever stub a toe on your watch!"
She hopped out of his grip, giving him a bright, oblivious thumbs-up before skipping further into the brush. Neteyam stood alone, his arms still shaped like they were holding her, his jaw tight enough to snap a tooth.
Attempt two
The sun was beginning to dip, painting the sky in bruised purples and golds. Neteyam found Y/N sitting on a thick branch overlooking the river, her feet dangling over the edge. Her hair was, as usual, a catastrophe. She had somehow managed to get sticky tree sap and several glowing feathers tangled into her braids.
Neteyam climbed the tree with silent, predatory grace, sitting directly behind her. He didn't ask. He simply reached out and began to unbind her hair.His fingers moved slowly, his knuckles grazing the sensitive skin of her neck. To any other Na'vi girl, this was an incredibly intimate act—a silent request to be more than friends. He leaned in so close he could smell the sweet, wild nectar of her skin, his chest almost brushing her back.
"teyam?" she murmured, her head tilting back slightly.
He felt a spark of hope. "Yes, Y/N?" he whispered, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly vibration against her ear. He let his fingers linger on her pulse point, feeling the steady thrum of her life.
"You're so sweet," she sighed, closing her eyes. "My mother always says I’m too messy to find a mate, but you... you treat me like a sibling! It's so nice of you to help me stay presentable so I don't embarrass the Chief's family. You really are like the brother I never had."
Neteyam’s hand jerked, nearly snagging a knot. "I am not your brother, Y/N."
"I know! You're better," she chirped, turning around on the branch to face him. She was so close their noses almost touched, her golden eyes sparkling with pure, platonic affection. "You're like a professional groomer! If you ever get tired of being a warrior, you could definitely help the elders with their ceremonial headdresses."
Neteyam stared at her, his jaw ticking. He wanted to shake her. He wanted to kiss her until she forgot the word 'brother.' Instead, he just handed her the feathers he’d pulled from her hair and climbed down the tree without a word.
Attempt three
The clan was sharing a meal after a long day. Usually, Neteyam sat with his brothers, but tonight, he walked straight to Y/N. He didn't just sit next to her, he sat so close their thighs were pressed together from hip to knee.
When Y/N reached for a piece of roasted fruit, Neteyam’s hand shot out, catching her wrist mid-air. He didn't let go. He picked up a piece of the best meat—the hunter’s portion—and held it to her lips.
"teyam?" she blinked, her cheeks turning a light mauve. "I have hands, you know! I'm not a baby forest-bird."
"Eat," he commanded, his voice a low, possessive rumble that vibrated through her. He ignored the stares from the other young hunters. He wanted them to see him feeding her. He wanted them to know she was being provided for by him alone.
Y/N took the bite, giggling as juice dripped down her chin. "Oh! You’re practicing being a father-figure! That’s so sweet, teyam. You’re making sure the 'weakest' member of the group is fed first. You’re going to be such a charitable Chief!"
Neteyam’s jaw tightened so hard it ached. He didn't say a word, he just wiped the juice from her lip with his thumb, pressing a little too hard, staring at her mouth with a hunger that had nothing to do with food.
Attempt Four
The forest was heavy with the scent of blooming night-nectar. Neteyam had found a cluster of rare sweet-drop fruits—small, glowing berries that only grew in the highest canopy. They were a traditional gift for courting, known for being as sweet as a first kiss.
He found Y/N sitting on a low-hanging branch, swinging her legs and trying to whistle back at a distant banshee. Neteyam climbed up, sitting so close that their shoulders were pinned together. He didn't say a word as he pulled a single, shimmering berry from his pouch.
"Y/N," he murmured, his voice dropping into that low, velvet tone that usually made the other girls in the clan blush.
She turned, her golden eyes widening at the sight of the fruit. "Oh! Are those the rare ones? The ones that are hard to find?"
"They are," Neteyam said, his gaze fixed intently on her lips. He didn't hand her the berry. Instead, he held it between his fingers and moved it slowly toward her mouth. It was a bold, intimate gesture—an invitation. "Taste it."
He watched her, his breath catching as his fingers brushed against her bottom lip. He leaned in, his face so close he could see the tiny pulse in her neck jumping. He was certain—absolutely certain—that she could feel the heavy, romantic tension thick enough to cut with a knife.
Y/N took the bite, her eyes closing as she hummed in delight. "Mmm, it's amazing, teyam!"
She opened her eyes, and for a second, she stayed there, inches from his face. Neteyam felt his heart hammering against his ribs. He started to lean in that last inch, his eyes fluttering shut—
"You're such a dedicated provider!" she suddenly chirped, patting his cheek with a sticky hand. "You’re practicing your 'feeding the wounded' skills, aren't you? My dad said a great warrior needs to be able to nourish the weak during a long march. You’re going to be the most charitable leader ever! You even make sure I get the snacks first!"
Neteyam’s head dropped onto her shoulder with a thud of pure exhaustion. "I am not... trying to be... charitable," he muffled into her skin.
"Don't be modest!" she laughed, braiding a small vine into his hair as a 'thank you.' "You’re the most selfless friend in the whole forest. Now, come on! I think I saw a weird bug over there that looks like your dad’s bow!"
Neteyam stayed on the branch long after she hopped down. He stared at the remaining berries, wondering if he should just start wearing a sign that said 'I AM IN LOVE WITH YOU' in giant, glowing letters.
The silence of the forest offered no advice, only the mocking rustle of leaves.
Last Attempt
After the berries, he promised himself one final, undeniable gesture. No more games, no more symbols. He would use the ancient language of their people—the Tsaheylu of the eyes—to show her exactly what he felt before the words ever left his lips.
They had stopped by a high, secluded pool where the water fell in silver ribbons. As Y/N leaned down to drink, Neteyam stepped into her space, blocking the light. When she looked up, he didn't pull away. He dropped to one knee, bringing his face inches from hers, his golden eyes burning with a raw, terrifying honesty. He reached out, his thumb grazing the line of her jaw, holding her gaze with a silence so heavy it should have been impossible to ignore. He was baring his soul, waiting for the flicker of realization to finally cross her face.
Y/N blinked, her expression shifting from surprise to a gentle, heartbreaking concern. She reached up, not to hold his hand, but to pat his forehead. "teyam, you’re glowing so bright... are you getting a fever? You should really lie down."
The frustration had reached a boiling point, simmering just beneath Neteyam’s skin like the heat of a forest fire. He watched her skip away, her laughter echoing through the trees, and for the first time in his life, his warrior's discipline failed him.
♡
Final Snap
He spent the rest of the night in silence, his tail twitching in a sharp, rhythmic lash that warned even his siblings to stay away. He didn't want to be charitable. He didn't want to be selfless. He wanted to be the only thing she saw when she closed her eyes at night.
The moon rose high, casting long, distorted shadows across the forest floor. The air grew thick with the scent of damp moss and impending rain, but as the rest of the clan settled into their hammocks, Neteyam’s eyes remained wide. Every time he blinked, he felt the ghost of her sticky hand on his cheek and heard the echo of her calling him a provider.
He needed to end the games. He needed to strip away the wholesome lens she viewed him through and force her to see the hunter beneath the prince.
When he finally spotted her silhouette by the edge of the river, her messy braids glowing faintly in the dark, the last of his patience snapped. He wasn't going to bring a gift. He wasn't going to offer a snack. He was going to take what he had been trying to give her for months.
Neteyam marched through the shallow water, his footsteps heavy and purposeful. The bioluminescent ripples fled from him, but he didn't care about stealth anymore.
"Y/N," he said. It wasn't a question. It was a command.
She turned around, her eyes bright. "Neteyam! You're back! Did you find that bug? I was just thinking about how the water looks like—"
"Stop," he rasped, closing the distance between them in two strides. He grabbed her wrists, not painfully, but with a firm, grounding grip that forced her to look up at him. "No more bugs. No more whistles. No more 'training drills.'"
Y/N blinked, her head tilting in that familiar, innocent way. "Are you okay? You’re breathing like you just ran from a palulukan. Do you need some of that cooling moss? I can go get—"
"I don't need moss, Y/N! I need you to listen!" Neteyam’s voice cracked with months of suppressed longing. "You think that necklace was for a 'friend'? It was a trophy of my spirit—I was giving you my soul. When I groomed your hair, I wasn't being a brother; I was marking you. Every gift, every hunt... I wasn't being 'charitable.' I was trying to claim you.!.
Y/N stared at him, her lips parting. For a second, a flicker of understanding crossed her face, but then she gave a small, nervous laugh. "Oh! You’re... you’re doing a play! Like the ones the elders do about the old days? Wow, Neteyam, your acting is so realistic, you almost had me—"
"It is not a play!" Neteyam snapped. He was shaking now, his warrior's mask completely shattered. "I am in love with you! I have been in love with you since we were children! Every time I look at you, I am dying. Every time you call me a 'friend,' it’s like a knife to my heart. Do you really not see it? Or are you just trying to drive me mad?"
Y/N’s smile wavered. She looked at his hands trembling on her wrists, then at the raw, burning desperation in his golden eyes. "Neteyam... I... I thought we were just... I mean, you're the Prince. You're so perfect. Why would you want someone as distracted as me? You're just being... really nice, right?"
That was it. The final nice.
Neteyam let out a low, guttural growl of pure frustration. He didn't wait for her to finish. He pulled her forward, his hand sliding into her messy, spore-filled braids to tilt her head back, and he crashed his lips against hers.
It wasn't a gentle kiss. It was a firm, possessive, "I-have-waited-too-long" kiss. It was the kiss of a hunter who had finally caught his prize.
Y/N froze, her breath hitching in her throat. The world around them—the glowing trees, the rushing water, the distant banshee cries—all of it vanished. There was only the heat of Neteyam’s mouth and the solid weight of his body against hers.
When he finally pulled back, just an inch, his forehead stayed pressed against hers. He was panting, his eyes dark and blown wide.
"Do you think I'm being 'nice' now?" he whispered against her lips.
Y/N’s hands, which had been hanging at her sides, slowly traveled up his chest, her fingers curling into his skin. She looked up at him, her face a deep, glowing violet, her eyes finally—finally—clear.
"Oh," she breathed, her voice a tiny, shaky hum. "That... that wasn't very 'brotherly' at all."
"Good," Neteyam muttered, before leaning down to claim her all over again.
♡
The next morning, the entire Olangi clan knew. They didn't need an announcement; they just had to look at Neteyam.
The stoic, serious warrior had been replaced by a shadow. Wherever Y/N went, Neteyam was exactly two inches behind her. He didn't just walk with her, he hovered, his tail constantly entwined with hers, his hand resting firmly on the small of her back as if telling the world, "This one is taken".
Y/N, for her part, was still her usual bubbly self—only now, she was a very well-kissed version of it.
"Neteyam, look!" she chirped, stopping by a cluster of puff-plants. "If you squeeze them, they make a funny popping sound. Do you want to try?"
In the past, Neteyam would have sighed and told her they had to keep moving. Now, he simply leaned down, tucked a stray leaf behind her ear, and hummed against her temple. "If you want to pop the plants, my love, we will pop the plants."
He reached out and squeezed a puff-plant, his eyes never leaving her face.
The clan watched in amusement. Lo'ak leaned against a tree, snickering as he watched his tough older brother carry Y/N’s basket, her gathering pouch, and even a particularly round rock she had decided was too pretty to leave behind.
"Hey, brother!" Lo'ak called out. "You're looking awfully... helpful today! Is that some more 'community service' you're doing?"
Neteyam didn't even look at his brother. He simply pulled Y/N closer to his side, his arm tightening around her waist in a silent, possessive grip. "She’s not a project, Lo'ak. She’s my mate."
Y/N beamed, standing on her tiptoes to press a quick, messy kiss to Neteyam’s jaw. "He’s still very helpful, though," she whispered loudly to Lo'ak. "He’s even better at kissing than he is at hunting!"
Neteyam’s ears turned a deep shade of indigo, but for the first time in months, he didn't feel frustrated. He just let out a low, satisfied purr and began to help her collect more pretty rocks.
He finally had her instinct, her heart, and her attention. And if he had to spend the rest of his life being helpful to the girl who owned his soul, he decided he wouldn't have it any other way.
Pairing: Human!female!reader x Neteyam Sully (aged up)
Contains: fluff,hurt/comfort, friends to lovers.
Words: 1.9k
Side note: Hello cherries! 🍒Thank you for engaging with my last story! I honestly didn’t expect anyone to like it ,since i just started writing fanfiction. English is my second language ,so I’m trying to improve my grammar and expand my vocabulary.
જ⁀➴
The air in High Camp usually hummed with the electric vibrancy of the forest the songs of insects, the distant calls of sturmbeests, the laughter of the clan. But tonight, the air was heavy. It tasted of ash and fear.
You sat on the edge of a moss covered overhang, legs dangling over the abyss of the Hallelujah Mountains. Below, the bioluminescence of the forest pulsed like a heartbeat indifferent to the heartbreak happening above. Being the daughter of two xenobotanists meant you were used to observing, staying quiet and taking notes. But being the childhood friend of the Sully kids,growing up beside them,tangling your clumsy human limbs with their long, graceful blue ones meant you felt this loss as deeply as if it were your own family. Because they were.
"I knew I would find you here”
The voice was deep and familiar. You didn't turn around. You heard the heavy, but almost silent thud of his feet approaching, Neteyam.
He sat down beside you, Even sitting, he towered over you. he was a masterpiece of Na'vi genetics. Broad-shouldered, lithe, and bearing the weight of the eldest son upon his brow, he was beautiful.
"So...that's it?...Your dad... he's really doing it?" you asked, your voice sounding tiny through the comms of your exopack.
"He has to...to protect the clan,protect us "Neteyam said, his golden eyes fixed on the horizon. "We leave at first light”.
The silence that followed was suffocating. You turned to look at him. His braids were pulled back tight, his face painted with war paint. He looked exhausted. He looked like a real warrior. But when he turned to meet your gaze, the warrior melted away, leaving just the boy who used to carry you on his back when the mud got too deep, or the trees were to hight to crawl on.
Moment later he broke the silence,“I made you something "he muttered while he reached for the small woven pouch at his waist the one where he usually kept spare arrowheads or dried meat. His large fingers fumbled for a moment, before pulling out a small object.
"I made this”. he said, his voice getting shy."Last night. When I knew we were leaving”
He held it up, It was a choker, woven from incredibly fine, dark leather strips likely from a sturmbeest he had hunted. It was intricate, the pattern tight and flawless, displaying the patience he usually had while fishing or tracking. In the center hung a single, smooth stone. It piece of unpolished obsidian he had carved himself. Even in the dim light, you could see the etching on it: the curve of his Ikran's wing.
"Turn around”, he asked softly.
You obeyed, sitting up turning your back to him. You felt the ghost of his breath against your neck, then the light scratch of the leather as he brought it around your throat. His knuckles brushed against your skin, hot and rough. The choker was sized perfectly. He knew the size of your neck better than you did.
He fastened the clasp a small hook of bone with delicate precision."It is... to protect you”, he said, his hands lingering on your shoulders before he turned you back around to face him. He touched the stone that now rested in the hollow of your throat. "I sang over it. A prayer to Eywa. That she keeps you hidden from the Sky People”That she keeps you safe until I return."
Your hand flew up to clutch the stone. It still held the warmth of his palm. "Neteyam, it's beautiful."
He looked down at it, a sad smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "It looks right on you. Marks you as... mine.”
Panic fluttered in your chest. You couldn't let him leave with just a promise. You needed him to have something tangible, something that proved you existed, something that would remind him of the humanity he loved when he was surrounded by war.
"I have something too," you blurted out. You reached for the chain around your neck,hidden beneath your suit collar. Your fingers trembled as you undid the clasp. It was a simple silver chain holding a plain silver ring, You held it out to him. In the palm of your hand, the ring looked normal. When Neteyam reached out and took it, the ring looked like a toy.
"It's silver," you explained, your voice shaking. "It was my mother's, she got it from my grandmother and now it is the only thing I have that's... mine. Truly mine."
Neteyam inspected it with reverence, bringing it close to his golden eyes.He tried to slide it onto his pinky finger, but it wouldn't go past the first knuckle. He chuckled softly. "So small. Everything about you is so small."
"It won't even fit your hand," you said, tears finally spilling over.
"No," he agreed softly, He looked at you, his gaze intense. "So I will keep it closer."
He reached up to the thin braid that hung just behind his ear the one usually for courting gifts or deep spiritual tokens. With nimble fingers, he undid the leather tie at the bottom. He threaded your silver ring onto the end of the braid, sliding it up until it rested against the beads already there, the silver clinking softly against the wood and bone.
He re tied the leather, securing the ring in place. It glinted against his dark hair, a tiny star in the night sky of his appearance.
"There," he said, touching the ring. "Now, when I hear the wind, I will hear you. And when I move, you move with me." He grabbed your hand again, squeezing it so hard his knuckles turned white.
"Do not take off the necklace," he commanded, his voice fierce.
"Never," you swore, gripping the stone at your throat. "Do not lose the ring."
"I would sooner lose my hand," he vowed.
He turned his body fully toward you, his knees drawing up. With a fluidity that always made you jealous, he reached out and gently grasped your waist. His hands were massive, his fingers nearly spanning your entire torso.
"You are so small," he said, a familiar observation that tonight felt like a prayer. "I have always wondered how a spirit so large and beautiful fits into a person so tiny."
You chuckled softly "It's just biology, 'Teyam," you tried to joke, but your voice cracked.
He leaned down, bringing his face level with yours. The height difference was staggering. Even when you stood on your tiptoes, you barely reached his chest. He had always been fascinated by it by the softness of your skin compared to his, the way he had to curl his body around yours to shield you from the rain.
"I don't want to leave you," he confessed, the admission torn from his throat. "I am supposed to be the strong one, protect you, the thought of leaving you here... with them in the sky..."
"I'll be safe at the base," you reassured him, placing your small, soft hands on his forearms, Neteyam let out a shuddering breath and moved his hands from your waist to cup your face, his long fingers curling around your exopack mask. He leaned his forehead against the glass, his golden eyes searching yours.
This was the barrier that always existed between you the glass, the air, the biology. But the love had grown in the spaces between.
"I remember when we were children," he whispered, his voice vibrating through the glass against your forehead. "You fell from the Ikran rookery path. I caught you."
"You broke your wrist catching me," you recalled, tears pricking your eyes.
"It was worth it. holding you... you were so light. I promised myself then that I would always catch you." He pulled back slightly, his expression agonizingly open. "How can I catch you if I am across the ocean?"
"You carry me with you," you said, your hand coming up to press against his chest, right over his heart. You could feel the powerful, slow rhythm of it. "And you come back. You promise me, Neteyam. You survive, and you come back."
He covered your hand with his, engulfing it completely. "I swear it to you, ma yawne. Before Eywa, I swear it."
The use of the endearment made your breath hitch. He had never called you that before.
Overcome by the moment, Neteyam shifted. He stood up, towering like a tree, and then knelt on one knee before you so he could look up into your face. It was a gesture of submission, of devotion, from the future Olo'eyktan to a human girl.
"Let me see you," he asked.
You hesitated, then reached up and unlatched the seal of your mask. You held your breath. The air here was toxic, but you could survive a few seconds. You pulled the mask off.
Neteyam didn't waste a millisecond. He surged forward, pressing his nose against your neck, inhaling the scent of you soap and salt and human skin deep into his lungs. He nuzzled your cheek, his skin warm and smooth against yours. It was the Na'vi kiss, an exchange of spirit and breath.
You gasped for air, turning your head to press your lips softly against his cheek. He froze, then turned, capturing your lips in a kiss that was clumsy, desperate and hot.
He pulled away reluctantly, his hands framing your face, thumbs brushing over your cheekbones. He looked at you with a mixture of awe and devastation.
"Beautiful," he breathed, his pupils blown wide. "My tiny warrior."
You coughed, your lungs burning from the Pandora air. Immediately, Neteyam was all action. He grabbed your mask and sealed it back onto your face, checking the clasps with trembling hands.
"Breathe," he commanded gently. "Breathe,yawne”
You took deep gulps of the recycled air, clutching his wrists. "I love you, Neteyam."
He froze, his hands still on your mask. The bioluminescence of the forest seemed to dim in comparison to the light in his eyes.
"I see you," he said, the traditional words carrying the weight of a marriage vow. "I have seen you since we were children. I will see you until I return to Eywa."
A horn blew in the distance the signal. The Sullys were gathering. Time had run out.
Neteyam stood, pulling you up with him. He lifted you off the ground effortlessly, hugging you so tight your ribs creaked, burying his face in your neck against the glass off your mask one last time. For a moment, he held you there, his feet rooted to the earth, yours dangling in the air.
Then, he set you down."Wait for me," he commanded, his voice thick with emotion.
"Forever," you promised.
He stepped back, his hand lingering on yours until their fingertips barely touched, and then the connection broke. He turned and ran toward the calling horn, disappearing into the shadows of the forest without looking back, leaving you standing alone in the glow of the bioluminescence, small and human, but carrying the heart of a warrior with you.
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