Promises Under Fire
CHAPTER SEVEN
masterlist read on ao3 summary: In the aftermath of the fight between you and Jake, you find comfort in the newfound companionship with your neices and nephews, all while navigating this strange relationship with Quaritch.
cw: canon-typical violence | injury | angst | more tags to come
JAKE SULLY
What the fuck is wrong with him?! Seriously, what the actual fuck-
He stands there speechless as you flee out of the tent, your eyes lined with tears, your face twisted into a look of hurt and betrayal. Idiot.
A tense silence hangs inside of the marui as Jake gets his breathing under control. His jaw was aching from how hard he was clenching it, and his pulse was throbbing in his head. Maybe he'll have an aneurysm and be free from this shit storm.
"Jakesully, I know this causes great turmoil inside of you, but we do not have the luxury of time. We must act fast." Tonowari finally shatters the silence, moving to stand beside Jake.
"I've been fighting so hard to hold them off... I didn't want it to come down to, you know, like before. What happened at the Hallelujah Mountains, it was a greater sorrow than the destruction of Hometree. So many Na'vi were killed, and yes, it was for the greater good, for our home; but they died because of me. I was the one who went to their families and pulled them away, and I was the one who had to go back, to tell them that their loved ones didn't make it. I spent weeks pulling bodies out of the woods; I was the one who identified every single one of them so they could have a proper burial. Because I was Olo'eyktan, it was my duty. But I'm not anymore; I sacrificed my title for the sake of my family and my people, in hopes that the RDA would give up, leave us alone. It seemed like all they wanted was me, and I thought if I disappeared, they'd back off. They got their side, we have our side, you know?"
Tonowari's ears twitch, and he sets his lips in a firm line. Leaders don't give up; they don't back down. They fight until their dying breath. Jake was a coward; he knows that the others frown at the thought of forfeiting the title, but he was doing what he thought was best.
And it didn't do shit.
"But the humans have betrayed what boundaries we have set. And they will continue to do so, until they are stopped. You know this, so why do you fight it?"
Because I'm fucking terrified of watching my family die. Because my sons will try to be out there with me, and I can't protect them all at once. That's what he wants to say, but instead, he says, "If I'm going to rally the clans again, then I'll need every fighter we've got. And I'll need more time. I can't just rush out like last time. This needs to be planned."
"You will have your warriors. And as far as time, I will do what I can to pacify the other clans, for now. The presence of the demonship has them on edge."
"No, I mean, the Outsiders, the ones that we saved, I want to train them to fight with us."
Finally, Tonowari was losing control over himself, and he huffs out an angry hiss of air. "Train them as warriors, in our ways? No. They are outsiders, and to give them the knowledge that has been passed down for generations by my people would be an insult to our culture. I will not allow this."
"Then we might as well give up now! Look, we've got their leader, well, her right-hand-man. Quaritch knows everything about that base, about their weaponry, their numbers, their tactics, everything. But he's not gonna help us just 'cause we ask, or even demand. Where I come from, we have a phrase; you gotta give a little to get a little. You know what that means? Compromise."
"Compromise? With the very men who took our children, held them under their weapons, and killed our Tulkun? Compromise?"
"Yes," Jake huffs, just as put out by the idea. He didn't want to do it, but it was a necessary evil. All of a sudden, he was feeling like his old self, back in Hell's Gate, living a double life. How did he get back where he started? "We show them that they're one of us, earn their trust, and then they'll help."
"Can you guarantee this? How do we know that it would not be a trick to meet their own goals? Make us blind to their plans so they can sneak away and betray us to the humans, hmm? This plan could fail or succeed both ways."
He had a good point. Jake still isn't sure that he can fully trust Quaritch. He wouldn't put it past him to pretend to be one of the people, only to turn everyone in at the last second. Quaritch always has his own agenda.
But then again, if the two of you are- he shudders at the thought- mated, then you would be able to see his deepest intentions. You would know if he was planning a coup... unless you were in on it too. But no, there was no way that you would betray the Na;vi to the RDA. You'd rather die.
Jake's gaze wanders to the opening of the tent where you had stormed out. You were right, of course. Right that they should stand up and fight, right to be angry, right to want justice. You may not have been around for the war before, but you were around to see the aftermath. Around to see how the humans have changed this world already, enough to know how much worse it will get if they are allowed to continue.
"It's our best chance of winning this thing, Tonowari. But I will only proceed with your blessing."
Tonowari stares hard, mulling it over, even though he isn't really left with much choice. Then, he holds out an open palm, and Jake grasps him at the elbow, above his widened forearm. Tonowari grips his arm tightly, pulling him closer. "I will allow this, but you will train them with our weapons, in our ways. I do not want to see any of those demon weapons in their hands that you took from the demon ship, understand?"
"Yes, Olo'eyktan."
Tonowari grunts, releasing his hand, dismissing him with a wave. Jake knew that this was the end of the conversation, and it was now his turn to leave. Now, all he had to do was tell Neytiri.
She'll be so fucking happy.
MILES QUARITCH
At first, he absolutely hated being babysat.
It was demeaning and humiliating to have a boy bossing him around, telling him when he could eat, sleep, and shit even.
But as the days progressed, he got more... acclimated? Used to it? Neteyam wasn't so bad, after the initial shock of it all wore off.
There was no denying this boy was Jake's kid. He saw it not only in his features, but in his attitude. He was exactly how he remembered Jake when he first landed on Pandora, fresh off the boat, unsullied by the wiles of the native women. Of course, that was old Quaritch's thinking.
And as soon as you were up and moving on your own, his attitude improved significantly, and all of a sudden, things were looking up. He was happy to help build canoes, erect new marui's, and even fish. Although he was only allowed to use a net, he still enjoyed it. It was simple, easy. Monotonous. One could almost forget they were in the middle of a war, living like this.
He could see why Jake fled here.
But between the hard labor and long days, all of it was made bearable by catching even just a glimpse of you.
Every now and then, he'd catch your scent on the breeze, and he'd stop and inhale as deeply as he could, wishing he could have you in his arms again, like that night in the canopy. Before everything went to absolute shit. He'd stand and savor your scent, and he'd close his eyes and picture your body against his, your warmth, your softness; all the parts of you that you've been hiding since he basically ripped your heart out and betrayed you.
Again.
He's not sure how much you remember of the days from before- as in, the Human Days- but he remembers them painfully clear.
Specifically, he remembers that day in Hell's Gate when he tried to convince you to spy for him, when he asked for you to betray basically all of your friends and allies, just so he could get the higher ground on squashing the natives for pushing back on the developments of the mines.
He'll never forget that look on your face. The hurt. The betrayal. It was the same exact face you'd given him on the ship when he gave the green light to hunt for the Tulkun. When he locked you away for causing a scene. When he kidnapped the kids.
Damn, he fucked up a lot. And yet, somehow, you've forgiven him.
You let him kiss you, hold you, comfort you. Even when he was barely holding himself together, when the only thing that got him out of bed was the chance that he'd get to make things right again, he still spared the energy to make sure you were okay because half of everything that's happened to you was directly his fault. Well, maybe more than half.
But still, you were forgiving him, and slowly- painfully slowly- he was rebuilding what the two of you had. Because he was slowly realising that he really is nothing without you; you're his only redeemable quality.
Although he could sense that that might be about to go out the window as Jake comes storming up, glaring at the ground as he speaks, dismissing Neteyam for a few minutes. A full day has passed since you and Jake had your little spat, and you know for a fact you haven't spoken a word to him. You didn't even sleep in Jake's tent; you came crawling in with the other Recoms in their marui. You didn't sleep in his bed, of course. You just curled up by the door. So he knew you were serious about being angry at Jake.
"I got a proposal. Tonowari has informed me that he's tired of feeding and sheltering you guys, and that you now have a choice: join the clan or be outcast." Well, at least he didn't pussyfoot around when he had a point to make; that much Quaritch could appreciate.
"'Join the clan'...?" Lyle is the first one to speak up, rubbing his face against the crook of his elbow to wipe away the beads of sweat that were gathering on his forehead. He and the others were currently in the process of descaling the fish that were to be cooked for dinner tonight, and Quaritch glances up at him, smooth scaling stone in hand. He tosses it in the air, as if contemplating this news, but he already knew his decision, because he knew what your decision would be.
"As in, you complete iknimaya, become one of us, train as a warrior. Because if you don't, then we've got no use for you, and you'll need to leave."
The others look towards him, waiting to hear what his decision would be. Even though he's got no title now, they still treat him as their Colonel, a loyalty that even death couldn't shake. He clears his throat and then asks what choice you had made.
"She's not gonna become a warrior. We'll find something else for her to do, but I'm not fixing to send her out into a fight." Jake finally looks Quaritch in the eye, his jaw twitching in anger. "She's a civilian."
"Does she know that yet?"
"She will, eventually." Oh, you're not gonna like that. Not in the slightest. Quaritch can already hear your furious tirade when you discover that Jake is planning on keeping you sidelined. You were already chomping at the bit to make a stand, to Do Your Part. No way in hell are you going to let Jake tell you otherwise. Maybe it will be fun to watch this play out. How long does Jake think he can keep you under his thumb?
A sly smile spreads across Quaritch's lips as he jerks his head in a nod. "Alright then. We'll do it. When do we start?"
"Now."
Jake spins on his heel, stomping in the direction of Tonowari's marui, where most meetings are held with the Olo'eyktan. Through the doorway, he spots several warriors already standing inside, one of them being Tonowari's son. Quaritch has seen this kid around the village. Every time they meet eyes, the boy always makes a taunting face, hissing and flicking his tongue, like an insult. And now he's gotta take orders from this punk?
Great.
"Outcasts, please show your respect to these warriors, as they will be teaching you our ways," Tonowari states as they push through into the tent, and Jake elbows him in the side, showing him how to bow his head. Quaritch knows the motion, and he touches his fingers to his forehead in the gesture of respect, saying, I see you.
The son grins, scoffing under his breath as he rolls his eyes, earning a chuckle from his gang. "This will be fun," he says with a laugh.
Old Quaritch is probably rolling in his grave. Here he is, at the hands of a bunch of fucking kids.
Oo-rah.
YOU
The rest of that week, you avoid Jake like the plague.
Maybe it was childish, but he'd hurt your feelings, and you wanted him to feel the sting.
Especially after Lo'ak came running to tell you that Jake was deliberately keeping you out of training with the others because he feels you aren't ready, and that Quaritch and the other Recoms are actively learning the ways of the Metkayina.
The very thought makes you want to claw his eyes out.
The two of you had fought in the past; it wasn't anything new. One minute, he could be comforting you, and in the next, he could be calling you stupid. It had always been that way, and a small part of you was glad to see that death and fifteen years hadn't changed that about him. But it also made you realize all the more that he saw you as a child. Not his sister, one year younger than him, but a child. Maybe even his own.
Since he felt your place was with the children, you followed Lo'ak, Kiri, Tuk, and Tsireya around as if you were one of them.
Tsireya taught you how to swim. Not that you didn't already know how, but she taught you the breathing techniques of the Metkayina, and how to control yourself so you wouldn't panic under the water- now that was harder to learn than holding your breath.
Although your body was that of a Na'vi, your brain was still hardwired as a human, and it was hard to fight past the urge to struggle to the surface to breathe after the first minute. On average, a human without any training can hold their breath from one minute to maybe three. Expert divers have been recorded to go so long as eight minutes. But since the Na'vi are designed to handle higher levels of CO2 in their bloodstream from their native atmosphere, they can also metabolize it better and hold their breath for longer. Their greater lung capacity helps, which in turn makes it so that a Na'vi's natural ability to hold their breath can range from ten to fifteen minutes, untrained. Tsireya, on the other hand, seems to be able to breathe under the water. She still manages to swim circles around the kids, even though they've been doing this longer than you have, and you embarrassingly still struggle to stay down for ten minutes.
Lo'ak has been teaching you knife techniques while you build strength in your arms, but said that when he feels you're ready, he'll teach you the bow and arrow. Even though the Metkayina use spearguns over bows and arrows, you want to learn the ways of the Omatikaya, because they were the People Jake's family belonged to.
Kiri was all too happy to share with you her knowledge of the local flora and their healing capabilities. Although she was also learning from Tsireya about the herbs of the Metkayina, she was eager to pass the knowledge along.
Neteyam was busy herding the Recoms during their training with the Metkayina warriors, although even he would come by every now and then to drop in his two-cents when Lo'ak was showing you some moves. Of course, he hadn't finished his iknimaya yet, since they were abruptly moved from home; he was just as eager to learn as you were. And somehow Jake never noticed where his sons ran off to during the day when they weren't doing their assigned chores, and he never questioned the strange bruises on your arms when you'd go crawling onto your floor mat for bed.
Even though you still aren't on speaking terms, you can't exactly blame him. He's got a lot on his plate.
With the threat of Bukowski's return looming over the heads of the Metkayina, and the frequent return of the demon ship, Jake and Tonowari have been going back and forth about what to do. Like right now, they're back in Tonowari's tent, nearing an almost nuclear argument about the next steps that should be taken.
Tonowari's argument is always, "This is a problem that the Great Toruk could fix. If you would reclaim your mount, we could meet these aliens head-on, and destroy them. Make them never return." He wanted to attack the demonships again, not so much their city fortress.
"No! We did that already! Fifteen years ago, we defeated them, and yet they just came right back!" Jake always hisses, pinning his ears and pursing his lips as he paces the room. "I'm not ridin' Toruk again. You don't... It's not just win the battle and be done, when Toruk is involved. The beast craves blood, and when he's fighting, he wants to consume everything and everyone. There can only be one, in his mind. No room for anything else." Meaning, Toruk wants them all gone. Not just back to Earth, but gone.
They would go back and forth like this for a while, before they both got too riled up and frustrated and gave up. Not that you were allowed to be present for such meetings, but the kids tend to drag you into their eavesdropping, and since it kind of involves the safety of an entire people, you don't want to be in the dark about it.
You agree with Tonowari.
Hell, you agree with Toruk.
They should all be killed. They don't even deserve the honor of returning. If it were up to you, you'd be all too happy to see them burn. There's not a single good one among them.
"Again!" Lo'ak barks, ordering you to repeat the sequence of moves he'd taught you earlier. The blade feels heavy and foreign in your hand, made of a polished stone blade instead of the lightweight metal that was standard for RDA. You pant softly, wiping the beads of sweat off your forehead as you resume your stance.
With the blade in hand, you slash up, then downswing to the right, then across to the left, and then up to the right once more, lunging forward as you do. Lo'ak said that you need to work with your feet, which you've never been known for being very swift, but claims that these motions will help you learn to find your balance when you're in constant motion. And muscle memory with a knife will come in handy if you're ever in a fight. Which you fully plan on doing, Jake be damned.
You and Lo'ak were as far from the village as the small island would allow, seeking privacy and cover. Lo'ak knew that his father would put a stop to this if he ever saw him training you how to fight, and you didn't want anyone seeing just how bad at it you are. You'd had a few weeks to train with Quaritch back in Bridgehead, but he never actually showed you how to use a weapon; it was only ever hand-to-hand. And even still, you were more distracted by the feel of his body on top of yours to really learn much of anything.
Despite Lo'ak being the same height as you, and several years younger, he had no problem flinging you over his back and to the ground. He showed no mercy, surgery and all, and a part of you feels like training you was a way to get out some of his frustrations with Jake.
He barks at you to do the motions again, but with your non-dominant hand, and you obey, switching the knife over and repeating the moves. You do this over and over again, until your muscles burn.
"That's enough of that for now. We should probably get back, before someone notices," Lo'ak huffs, holding out his hand. You place the knife in his open palm, and as he grips the hilt, he holds his closed fist out for you to bump.
"I think we should swim back. The water sounds like heaven right now, and also, I am filthy." Again, Lo'ak put you on the ground multiple times, and you definitely looked as if you'd been rolling in the dirt. That would raise some questions that you didn't plan on answering, and he nods his agreement.
When you finally make it back to the village, Tuk comes running to find you. "Hurry, Dad is meeting with Tonowari again, and this time, they've got the Colonel with them!" She huffs breathlessly, grabbing your hand, despite the water that was dripping down your skin. She yanks on your arm, tugging you along until you are trotting beside her. It doesn't even hurt your scar to do so anymore.
She drops into a crouch as she nears the edges of the tent, and you follow suit, with Lo'ak on your tail. You creep up to the seam along the back of the Marui, peeking through until you can find the three of them gathered together.
You are immediately hit with a wave of jealousy as Quaritch stands there, talking with the others like he belongs. And Jake is listening.
Of course.
He'll take a Marine seriously, but he'd never dare to listen to his sister.
"No matter what, it wouldn't be wise to let this go ignored. We need to spread the word about what the RDA are planning." The rumble of Quaritch's voice floats to your ears.
Tonowari nods his agreement. "It is time the clans come together."
"Let's just start with the Omatikaya," Jake huffs, crossing his arms over his chest, setting his brows into a firm frown. His tail swishes angrily around his legs. "I can catch Tarsem up on what's been happening out here, and he can tell me if he's noticed anything new about Bridghead."
"I'm sure Ardmore has gotten more aggressive about her colonization initiative. It's the whole reason they're here. Something will be going on, we just need to find out what."
"Is their city of stone not enough?"
"No. Nothing is ever enough for her. She won't stop till she has it all. The humans won't stop until they have it all," Quaritch growls, and Jake scoffs.
"What happened after Hell's Gate... it'll be nothing compared to this war we're fixing to start."
"Jakesully," Tonowari steps forward, clasping his hand around Jake's shoulder, "it is they who started this fight. Perhaps at once point, there was a chance for peace. But not now."
"So, how do we get there?" Quaritch's ears twich, and his nostrils flare, and your heart stutters in your chest as his eyes flick in your direction, locking in on you instantly. How the hell did he know you're here?
"Norm's transmission said it was urgent, and I told him to only ever reach out if it were an emergency. If what you're saying is true, and what they're bringing in is a precurser to a full blown invasion... then we have to act now." Jake's veins were throbbing along his neck and temple, a telltale sign that he was at his Shit Storm Limit.
This led to more arguments, back and forth, each one ping-ponging off the other of what to do.
Miles was trying to convince Jake that they should at least return to High Camp to properly warn the Omatikaya about Bridgehead, and update them on the Bukowski situation and whatever this transmission was about. In turn, Jake would get mad, because the whole reason they left High Camp was to get away from Quaritch. And he sounds a little too eager to get there. Of course, Quaritch swears that isn't the case anymore, he couldn't care less about where it's at, so long as it's still safe and hidden from the humans.
The only problem with leaving is that Ronal refuses to let you and the other Recoms be left behind, and since both Lyle's and Z's ikran were killed in the Battle at Three Brother's Rock, and you don't have one at all, there weren't enough mounts to carry the entire group.
Neytiri refused to leave the kids, and Jake said he'd never let you out of his sight again, and you said you won't be going anywhere without Miles- so here you all are, days later, watching as your last solution comes flying in.
Big, beautiful, breathtaking creatures drift over the ocean, and the Metkayina flood to the shore, waving and cheering as the creatures drop down massive ropes with anchors tied to them, weighing the beasts down until they were sure they wouldn't be going anywhere. A long time ago, you had read an article about the medusoids; after all, anyone who doesn't see a ginormous flying jellyfish and not stop to figure what the hell that's all about would have to be insane.
From what you can recall, the massive membranous sack is filled with helium gas, allowing it to float, although the only control it has over itself is the big sail-like fins at its sides, allowing it to turn and steer. But it cannot propel, it just drifts, floating over oceans mostly, using its long tentacles to immobilize and catch prey at the surface of the waters, before dragging them to its mouth.
But these Na'vi, the Tlalim, as you've learned, have harnessed these creatures and turned them into a sort of primitive blimp, with a different kind of creature at the bow, tied in place by harnesses and ropes, and ridden by a Na'vi who is connected by their kurus to navigate. Below the Medusoid is a massive saddle, the equivalent of a caravan from the old days, filled to the brim with goods from all over the moon, with Na'vi jumping along the rails, waiting to hit the sand.
It's ingenious.
You didn't realize you were gawking until Lyle comes strutting to your side, shielding his eyes against the harsh sunlight as he whistles lowly. "You know, I thought this place couldn't hold any more surprises, but damn, have I been proven wrong!"
"If you think you'll ever not be surprised, you're more stupid than I took you for. Take all your expectations and experience, and throw it out the window. Nothing can prepare you for what you will see out here," you laugh, punching his shoulder lightly.
You watch as who you assume to be the leader steps down a gangplank, and he and Tonowari grasp for arms, greeting each other warmly. His voice is raspy and warm, and his lips pull back into a wide smile. "It is good to see you again, old friend."
"I hope your travels have been well and fruitful," Tonowari laughs in response, and they drop hands.
"Not as well as I'd like," the man sighs, placing his hands on his hips. His head is mostly shaved, aside from an elaborate braid that twists around his head. The rest of his kuru, instead of dangling down the length of his back, is wound around his neck and hidden behind a high, stiff collar. He wears a shawl, which sits half-open, exposing the rest of his woven clothes, which look to be from various different origins. "The Mangkwan have been growing more aggressive."
Mangkwan? Who are they?
"Peylak, these are my comrades," Tonowari gestures to Jake and Neytiri, who were standing stoicly behind him. "And I think we have answers to both of our problems."
The rest of the clan push past, carrying baskets, nets, and crates of all sizes, overflowing with goods for trading and selling. Beads, blades, woven linens, cloths, food, tools; anything and everything you could think of, and all of them vastly different from each other, obviously, from all over the world.
The leaders walk away, disappearing with Jake and Neytiri back to the marui, and as tempted as you are to follow and listen in, you decide that you want to shop.
After all, you are a girl at heart.
You catch Lo'ak and Tsireya picking their way through the crowd, hand-in-hand, and you smile softly, watching them as she begins to pick through the goods before they even have a chance to set up.
"So, you think they'll let us go with them?" Lyle quirks his brow. You had almost forgotten he was standing beside you. He looks better now that his hair is starting to grow out, making him look more Na'vi than Recom. You shrug, gaping wordlessly.
"I don't know what we'll do if they say no."
You distract yourself with the traders, browsing through the goods and wares, asking what would be an appropriate trade. These people have no currency; they purchase things based on value and significance, not from anything monetary, and since you have pretty much nothing to your name, it was hard to haggle.
You wound up literally selling the clothes off your back in order to purchase a new top, this one more solid than your previous beaded top. The woman who sold it to you said it was from the Olangi clan, which explained the stitching across the piece. It was a solid square of fabric, with Pa'li sewn in one long line, as if the horses were marching together, nose to tail. The textile was made of multiple colors, mostly red and brown, and a solid braided string ran from corner to corner, which wrapped around the back of your neck. Wooden beads dangle like tassels from the bottom, weighing it down enough so it hangs off your body, jangling softly as you move.
You slide it on, pulling your kuru through the string, fluffing out your hair. The Na'vi don't have mirrors, so you do your best to look yourself over. You turn towards Lyle, who was still trailing behind. Z-Dog was busy talking to a few of the Tlalim women- she had them giggling over something- so you chose to ask Lyle for his opinion. "How does it look?"
"Uh," the tips of his ears turn a shade of pink, and he shifts on his feet. "Like... a top, I guess?"
You scoff, passing your old top over to the woman, and she thanks you warmly, although you don't miss the way her eyes seem to linger on your hands. Right.
Alien.
You make sure your necklace is still secure around your neck before you push away, moving on down the line, running your fingertips over pretty much anything you can get your hands on.
That is, until the air shifts around you, becoming almost electric as Quaritch glides in close. You can hear him dismiss Lyle. So that's why he was following you around. Like a guard dog.
"Sorry, I knew you would've objected to it if you knew why he was sticking around, but I needed to get a read on these people before I felt comfortable letting you wander alone."
"There's nothing to worry about. These are good people. Otherwise, Tonowari would not welcome them as he has."
He hums, disbelieving. Your skin tingles at his nearness, and you finally turn to face him, steering yourselves behind a wooden pillar between tents. The chaotic noise of the crowd drowns out your voices, so you have to lean in close to hear him properly.
"What was going on in Tonowari's tent? Jake won't tell me anything, and the kids don't know either. I hate being kept out of the loop."
"I knew you were eavesdropping," Quaritch chuckles, shaking his head. His fangs poke past his bottom lip as he grins. "I can smell you anywhere."
Your cheeks burn. "That's- that's beside the point, not what I was asking about. Focus. What transmission?"
Quaritch sighs, his gaze sweeping the area, before turning his attention back to you. "Apparently, your old buddy Norm Spellman has reached out to Jake over a secure line about concerning new shipments to Bridghead. Less weapons, more building supplies. He's calling Jake back to look over some of the things they salvaged from the wreckage of their last raid. He wouldn't say anything else, in case the line was bugged. And Tonowari says this would be the perfect opportunity to start going to the other clans to rally them and make a plan of attack."
"And why were you in there?"
At this, he shifts on his feet.
"Miles?"
His eyes snap back to yours, and his ears twitch. You hadn't called him by his first name since, well, his betrayal on the ship. Your delirious near-death ramblings don't count.
"Jake let it slip that he needs my knowledge of Bridghead to stage a proper assault. I made it clear that attacking them directly would be a major mistake. Tonowari doesn't understand why, and Jake says it is our best bet at getting the upper hand."
Bridgehead is huge. From what you can recall, it's somewhere near six miles wide, full of thousands upon thousands of angry mercenaries, just waiting for the excuse to pull the trigger. Since SciOps was shut down, SecOps is in full control of all of Pandora's on-world operations. And with Ardmore at the helm, you know she will ruthlessly stop at nothing to win. She doesn't care about ethics or bad press. Low quotas mean nothing to her. It's not like Hell's Gate. Not like when Parker Selfridge was in charge. At least he made a vague attempt to establish good relations with the Na'vi before he started tearing everything up.
But Ardmore made it clear to you that she is above all of that.
"Attacking Bridgehead would be like walking into a trap. There's no way to do it, right?"
"Not easily. Their only weak point is the ocean-facing gates. There is a marine killzone, but an aerial assault would be their only chance at maybe breaching the city. But I wouldn't push it. What threw me off was that he wasn't asking for details. He didn't ask about weapons or supplies, or maps or anything. He pretty much just asked for my opinion on Bridghead's security, and what I would do if I were planning a full-scale assault. It was... strange."
"Hmm," you hum, looking down. Your fingers play with the fabric of your new top thoughtfully. "That doesn't sound like Jake. He's not a conversationalist."
"My thoughts exactly. And then giving us the chance to become warriors with the clan, to be accepted, if we meet all of their challenges? Something is up."
The thought makes your blood boil. What the hell is Jake playing at? One minute, he's spewing hate about the Recoms, and in the next, he's getting all buddy-buddy with them?
"This is giving me a headache. I don't want to think about Jake anymore, or the war. I just want to enjoy this," you gesture towards the crowd, "for a bit. Pretend I'm just a regular Na'vi, doing regular Na'vi things. Like haggling over some very pretty polished stones."
You push against his chest enthusiastically, stomping towards the man who was holding out handfuls of stones, showing them off to every wandering eye. Your ears catch the sound of Quaritch's soft laugh as he follows after you, watching from a distance as you haggle with the handful of shells of the pouch attached to your waist.
Reluctantly, the wind traders agree to give you and the others safe passage, with the promise that those with ikran will act as guards. Apparently, the Mangkwan are an aggressive clan of raiders and are a general nuisance for the traders. You've never heard of them before, but it isn't unknown for there to be hostile clans. Yes, the Na'vi aren't nearly as aggressive as the humans, but they do still have clan disputes from time to time.
Quaritch is one of the riders who will stand guard, although Jake still doesn't trust Miles with any weapons.
When Miles tries to argue, Jake cuts him off with a hiss. "A warrior does not lose his title just because he loses his weapon; he becomes the weapon."
When Jake came back from serving overseas with the Marines, he was a changed man. Something in him broke when he came home, and he was never the same after that. But now, seeing him fifteen years older, father of four, and former Olo'eyktan, you can see that that was nothing compared to now. He was wisened, bitter, and cranky.
Old man.
The windtraders do not linger long. Peylak claims that they have many more villages to trade with, and by the end of the day, they've already got their things packed and are ready to set sail once more.
Jake urges the kids to gather their things quickly, and as you're rolling up your sleeping mat, you can hear the murmur of his voice as he argues with Neytiri. You know it's about you. It's always about you.
From what you've gathered so far, she's upset that Jake seems to care about your well-being more than that of his own children, because all he seems to talk and fret about is you. Thankfully, the children don't feel the same resentment. In fact, Lo'ak has told you multiple times that he's glad you're around, because now Jake isn't riding his ass about every little thing.
"It's like he would wait for me to mess up, just so he could yell at me, no matter how hard I tried to impress him," Lo'ak had told you once, between training sessions. "Ever since the humans returned, he changed. Like he's not my dad anymore. He's a, what's the human word?"
"Drill sergeant?"
"Yes. Asshole," Lo'ak also likes to curse. A lot. Especially in reference to his father.
But deep down, you know all he wants is Jake's approval.
Just like Jake did with your father, when he was a kid.
Jake used to fight so hard to make your dad proud, to pull him out of his drunken stupor by following in his footsteps, only better. He was the tough sibling, the strong one. The leader. He only joined the Marines because it was what your dad served in when he was young. You tried to convince Jake not to do it, because that's why your father was the way he was, but he insisted that he would be better.
Now look at him.
It's like watching your life on an uncanny loop.
Jake, trying to make Lo'ak and Neteyam tougher by being harsh, just like your dad did to him and Tommy. "I'll turn these boys into men, but you can't keep kissing their asses, LeeAnne!" Your dad would always scream at your mother after dishing out some punishment on the boys.
You'd heard Jake tell them something similar. "You gotta be tough. We can't afford a weak link right now. Or else our whole chain will crumble."
And then Neytiri would always swoop in to soothe the burn of his words when he would leave, all the while glaring at you.
"Mom says that Dad's moodiness got worse when you showed up," Kiri had told you.
And it seems like all they do is bicker.
That's why you try to disappear with the kids every chance you get.
The Metkaina gather at the shore once again, waving and cheering as the Tlalim file back into their gondolas, baskets overflowing with new things to trade and pass on. The children cling to the ropes as they lean over the railing, waving in return. Tuk's enthusiasm is infectious, and you try to hide your smile as she waves to the small group of friends gathered below. Lo'ak specifically moves down the length of the vessel until he spots Tsireya, and you bump him playfully as his ears turn pink, saying his goodbyes. Tsireya's eyes are sparkling, even from this distance, and she continues to wave until the vessels start to rise.
It is an incredible thing to watch. You bend over the rails to see ports open along the hull, and gallons of water pour out, allowing the medusoid to lighten and return to the sky. Peylak calls out the orders as the Na'vi work in perfect unison, almost like a dance. They scramble to untie the rigging, allowing the sail-fins to fan out and catch the wind current, and the Na'vi on the wingray's back yips, commanding the beast to fly forward. The thick ropes groan in protest as the wind causes the gondola to shift, and the air grows colder as it rises hundreds of feet above the open waters. From here, all you can see is turquoise ocean, until is disapears on the horizon. Alpha Centauri haunts the sky, not nearly as bright with the glare of the full sun, but distinguishable enough you can still make out her giant gas swirls.
The windray's wings make a strange flapping sound as it flutters to the side, steering the medusoid away from the islands, slow but steady. You inhale deeply, breathing in the salty breeze one last time, knowing that soon, you'll be back over the continents. You tilt your head back, allowing the sun to warm your skin as the air cools with your rising height.
"It's been a while since I've seen that smile," Miles says to your left, and you jump softly.
"Well, there's not been a lot to smile about."
He clears his throat and changes the subject.
"So, after all this time, I'm finally going to get to see High Camp?" Miles attempts a joke, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk, but it misses the mark.
You deadpan, flattening your ears with a glare. "Really?"
He falters, and then reaches out to brush your elbow with his fingers. You pull away, turning your back to retreat into the vessel as the windtraders mill about. Just because you've forgiven him doesn't mean you've forgotten all the things he did to try to find High Camp, to find Jake, even though at the time, you had no idea that was the goal.
"Really, Colonel? Come on, use your brain. Don't joke about that," you hear, and you're pretty sure it was Z-dog, because she comes sneaking up behind you after you find a comfortable, out-of-the-way spot to sit. She drops down beside you as you pull a necklace from the bag Tsireya had gifted you to hold your few belongings.
She doesn't say anything as she pulls out her own bag, brandishing a small dagger from the sheath at her waist. She begins to weave waxy cord around the hilt, which was the final touch to the blade before it would be finished. She must have been making it in secret, because the Recoms aren't supposed to have any weapons.
Something tells you it was Lo'ak.
After a heavy moment of silence passes between the two of you, you break it, looking over at her with a sigh.
"What's your real name?"
"Beg pardon?"
"You know, your real name. I only know your last name, and everyone else just calls you Z-Dog, so what's your real name? I know Lyle, Miles...?"
Zdinarsik sighs heavily, and her hands fall still as she stares into the distance, gathering her words.
"My dad was a real asshole. Abusive. You know, every typical Marine's sob-story. Bad home life, daddy issues, yada yada," she rambles, resuming her work on the hilt. "Anyways, he always wanted a son. Said he needed a strong boy to carry his legacy. His name."
You listen patiently, carefully weaving and knotting the threads in your hands as you work on your bracelet. "Well, Mom got pregnant with me, and they couldn't afford any of the prenatal care, so she shows up at the hospital the day I'm coming out, and when the doc passes me over to my dad, he said 'this wasn't what he wanted'. Got real mad, threw a huge fit, almost got kicked out of the room. Fast forward to my mom asking me where she signs the papers for my name, and Doc says, 'Oh, your husband took care of that already'."
She levels you with a hard look.
"He claims it was an honest mistake, that he was drunk. Which he always was; that part wasn't a lie. But signed my name as Emilio. Mom wanted to name me Emilie, after her mother. Mom tried to have it fixed, but the doc had already sent the paperwork to the Social Security office, so there was nothing to be done about it. Mom always called me Em, or Emmie, but Dad insisted on Emilio."
She scoffs and shakes her head. "I did everything I could to try to make him proud, you know? Like I learned how to hunt, learned how to shoot, always settled my own fights. Got bullied for being butch, which there's no shame in that. The world had bigger problems for me than worrying about what kids thought. But nothing I did was ever good enough... and mom just let him do it. It was always excuse after excuse with her. She cared more about that asshole than she ever did me, because I didn't make him happy, so she couldn't love me. 'Cause that would make him unhappy."
You're caught off guard with her honesty, but it's like the floodgates have opened, and you can see that she's never talked about this out loud. She'd been holding it in all these years, and now she can't stop herself.
"Then she got pregnant again, and had a son. He died in the hospital; he was only a few days old. Something about his lungs not being fully developed. They kicked me out not long after, 'cause I was causing too much trouble. Dad said the stress was too much for my mom; that's what caused her body to not grow my brother right, or some made-up shit like that. Acting out was the only way I could get either one of them to even talk to me, but after that, I said I never wanted to hear from them again. So I lived on the streets for a while, fought like hell to stay in school, and as soon as I graduated, I joined the Marines. My whole life, I was always trying to prove myself to my father, so I thought, hell, I'm gonna prove to myself that I'm worth somethin'. So I scratched off my name, made sure that the name Emilio was nowhere to be found, and I took my mother's maiden name, so my father's 'legacy' would die with him."
"Then what happened?"
"He died. Liver shit out finally, and mom realized what she'd done, tried to get me to come back, but I was already boarding the flight for Pandora. Never looked back, since."
She goes quiet, but after a few breaths, she continues. "All those years, I thought I was doing something good, you know, fighting for a cause? Turns out, I was the asshole. Made me feel like my dad. The more I think about it, when I was human, I took joy in watching the Na'vi suffer. It made me feel strong. Then, after we caught those kids in the jungle, it didn't make me feel good. I felt like shit. Seein' how scared Tuk got... I recognized that look in her eyes, cause I saw it in the mirror when my dad would come storming into my room lookin' to let his anger out on me 'cause of something I didn't even do."
"Oppression feels different when you're on the other side of the fence, huh?"
"Psh," she laughs humorlessly, stuffing her blade back into the sheath, finished fiddling with it for now. "Anyways, so yeah. I'm Zdinarsik. Nothing more, nothing less. But I like that you call me Z. It sounds... kinder."
"Now isn't really the time to be kind though. We're still fighting for our lives out here," you give her a sideways glance, adding a bead to the threads that Kiri had helped you carve, as well as the small polished stones you had gotten from one of the traders.
"I know. I'm just glad to finally be doing something I can actually be proud of."
The silence returns, and after a while, you clear your throat and offer her a smile. "Thank you for telling me that, Z. I know it probably was hard."
"Kind of, but also... not. Like, I can look back on it, but it's like someone's put glasses over me, you know? Seeing it all different?"
"That's because they're technically not your memories. You're not that woman anymore."
"I'm starting to get that now," an easy chuckle escapes her lips. "I've always been told who I need to be. I'm struggling doing it myself, now."
"I guess that's where you and I are different. I've always been told who not to be."
And all this time, you've been preaching at the Recoms about how they're not the same person as they were when they were human, and it leaves you to wonder... how have you changed?
That evening, as the sun sets and night consumes the world, the Tlalim build fires in special chambers in the gondolas, allowing warmth and soft orange light to flood the chambers. All around, the People sing and dance, playing instruments you don't recognize. Each one hails from a different clan, and it's interesting to see the way the Tlalim perfectly blend elements from each Clan, combining them into one Clan, all their own.
Kiri and Tuk were dancing around one of the fires, and a great gust of wind blows against you as Miles, Lo'ak, and Neteyam land their ikran on the open deck, before ducking into the chamber. The brothers join their sisters, taking up a plate of food that's offered to them, while you carry your own to Miles.
You offer him a truce in the shape of food and a smile.
"I'm sorry."
"Me too."
"Think we'll ever get over it?"
"What I did... it's not really something you just get past, don'tcha think?"
He's right. And every time you think you can finally let it all go, something comes up to remind you that, no, it's not okay. He'll be paying for those mistakes for the rest of his life. The Na'vi will make sure of that.
You shake your head to pull yourself from your thoughts, reaching into the small pouch at your waist so you could pass him the gift you had made him. "I made this for you. Thought you needed some more decorations to make you look more like the Na'vi. Before they tossed your knife, I cut the paracord off of it and used the threads to make the detail, and the beads are made from driftwood and seashells."
You join him on the floor, crossing your legs and curling your tail around yourself as you pass him the bracelet. It's a thick bangle, with one braided cord on top and one on bottom, and long thin wooden beads in between, dispersed by polished bits of seashell and stone in an alternating pattern. The pure white threads from the paracord glint in the light, twisting and curving around the thin leather strips you'd woven them with. Kiri showed you how to do it, and the first thing that came to mind as you started it was him, to repay him for the necklace.
"You just had to one-up me, didn't you?" He attempts another joke, and you scoff. "So, what's it mean?"
"What?"
"Neteyam said jewelry usually tells a story. So, what's the story for this one?"
"Oh, I... didn't think about that. I just- made it." You look down at your hands, and then your own necklace. "Wait, then what does this one mean?"
"The big shell in the center is you. The shells to the right is your family: Jake, Neytiri, and one for each of the kids. And then the shells to the left is us; me, which is why I'm bigger, then Z-dog, then Lyle. So you can keep us all close to your heart."
You feel like an idiot. What you thought was his blindness to good design was actually a choice, because each piece was symbolic. Stupid.
"Wow, okay then. Give it back, I can fix it, give it a story," you reach for the bracelet, but he snatches it away, holding it just out of reach. You claw at his wrist, but he pushes you back. You can't help but laugh.
"No, it's mine now. You can't take it back," he glares, although his grin gives it away. His tail swishes mischievously around on the floor; the bristly hairs at the end tickle your legs.
"That's what I thought. Enjoy it."
He stares down at it wordlessly, running the pad of his thumb over the cords, studying it. Finally, he looks up at you, his expression... soft. Vulnerable. "Thank you. I never thought you'd- well, I didn't let myself hope that we would- I... don't know what to say." You find it sweet when he struggles to put his words together.
"Neither do I," you huff, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. Your braids were in need of tending, getting loosened and frayed by the strong winds in the medusoid.
Instead, the two of you sit in companionable silence after you help him tie it onto his arm. You run your fingers over the beads, and then smile, looking away to laugh and clap along as the song switches to one that tells a story, and the dancers illustrate the tale with their bodies.
When it was over, Kiri leaps to her feet, jumping over to where you were sitting to snatch you by your wrist, dragging you up with her, forcing you to dance beside her as the music swells.
You don't resist, twirling and leaping alongside her, waving your arms and banging a tambourine on your hip as one of the Tlalim dancers passes it to you, losing yourself to the moment. Miles' eyes never leave you.
The next morning, you wake up next to Miles, his arm draped lazily over your waist as the two of you cuddle in a hammock at the lowest deck of the gondolas, just above the water reservoirs. You sit up carefully, but he's already awake, watching you.
"Mornin'," his voice cracks, still thick from sleep, but he manages to offer you a grin.
"Morning. You good?" You question over your shoulder as you rise to your feet and stretch, and he does the same, yawning loudly.
"You know, I've slept on pretty much every kind of surface you can imagine, and that damn hammock is by far the worst."
You gape, slapping his arm playfully. "Are you kidding me? Worse than the cave?"
"Oh yeah. Most definitely." You can't tell if he's teasing you or being serious, so you ignore him, shaking your head incredulously.
As you move to the higher decks in search of breakfast, Jake hunts you down, his eyes zeroing in on Miles. Your ears twitch as you glance between them as the air changes.
"What's going on?"
"I caught a scent on the wind. We tried changing course, but it didn't do much good. Pretty sure we got trouble coming." But Jake isn't talking to you.
He's talking to Miles. Miles the warrior, Miles the fighter. The one who could actually be of use in a fight.
Unlike you.
Finally, Jake looks your way, giving your arm a quick squeeze and a peck to your forehead, as if forgetting that you had been ignoring him for the past week. "Go find the kids, stick with them."
"Is it to keep them safe, or the other way around? I don't need a pack of babysitters, you know!" You call after him, and he offers you a glare before yipping for his mount, which clings to the side of the saddle as he climbs on.
But not before you watch him pass a rifle to Miles.
Shit.
If he's willing to break his own rule and give Miles a gun, you know something bad is coming.
