idk I just reblog random shit sometimes

that’s right, she cursed herself, remembering the idiotic promise she made to her brothers last night. what had [y/n] been thinking! she didn’t want to confess her sins, and never mind confessing them to her parents. she stifled a groan as she twisted and turned in her nivi, finally able to climb out and place her feet on the mesh floor of the marui.

the truth was, neteyam and lo’ak caught her in a very… vulnerable time. and she wasn’t really thinking for her future—moreso, she was willing to say anything to get her brothers to leave her alone. of course, the “anything” happened to be an idiotic promise to tell her parents everything: that she’d been sneaking out, and worse, that she’d been sneaking out to see aonung. oh, and when did she commit to making this confession? oh, that’s right. by the end of today.

dread settled in [y/n]’s chest as she slowly walked out of her family’s marui. sunlight hit her face, and she fought every urge to retreat back into the shade so her head could catch up with her feet. but, when she turned to look over her shoulder, her stomach dropped at the sight of her parents.

they were awake—she hadn’t even noticed them, although she was probably too wrapped up in her own worries—and seated around their fire pit. the flame was small, just enough to cook their breakfast without overheating their entire marui, a mistake that jake had made years back before [y/n] could even remember (although neytiri told the story enough that [y/n] would never forget it).

“rewon lefpom, maite,” neytiri greeted [y/n] with a soft smile. her mother was very rarely joyous these days—it was hard to be, considering she was miles away from her home, her family, her people—so, for neytiri to be smiling this early in the morning, even if it was small, was a wonderful sign. a positive indicator that life would be okay.

except for the fact that [y/n] would steal all that happiness when she finally told her parents of her terrible, reckless behavior—did her brothers do idiotic stuff? all the time. but [y/n]... she was supposed to be the good one. the one they didn’t have to worry about, the one who kept her twin out of danger, who listened to kiri, who helped neteyam, who entertained tuk.

the dread was getting heavier with each second that passed.

“hi,” [y/n] finally replied, forcing a smile onto her face, as artificial as it felt. she could feel her parents’ eyes on her—jake’s were scrutinizing, trying to read every bit of her body language, and most likely, trying to figure out if she was okay. if she was safe. neytiri, however, looked at her with concern. where her mate felt the need to protect his children and keep them alive, neytiri’s maternal instinct prompted her to make sure they weren’t just alive, but that they were alive and well.

“are you alright, maite?” her mother asked, eyes full of worry, and guilt flooded [y/n]’s chest. 

no, [y/n] thought to herself. i am like five seconds away from hurling myself into the sea. but, instead, she broadened her smile and shrugged. “i’m fine. just tired, i guess.” then, as she walked closer to the fire pit, she peered over the merki to find roasting fish. “and i guess a bit hungry.” although, that was a complete lie. she hated fish.

“really?” lo’ak’s voice came out of absolutely nowhere, and [y/n] turned to find her twin seated a few feet away, his hands busy as he fiddled with some random reeds, braiding and unbraiding them habitually. but, despite his apparent boredom, [y/n] knew her twin, and she knew the expression he wore was anything but innocent.

“yes,” she restated, anger lacing her tone as she shot a look at him. “yes, really, lo’ak.” sometimes, she wondered if she was sent as his twin to keep him out of trouble, or if he was sent here with the mission to make her life a living hell.

but, lo’ak just shrugged at her response. “huh,” he breathed, looking back at his hands, although his eyebrows remained high on his forehead. “thought you hated fish.”

[y/n] bit her tongue before she said something that she couldn’t take back, and instead took a deep breath. “yeah, well,” she hummed, sitting down beside her mother, who placed the strong smelling breakfast in her hands. she felt every urge to wrinkle her nose, to gag, to give it back and walk away, but she stayed strong. “it’s growing on me, i guess.”

later that day, [y/n] found herself stuck, once again, with her ever-hovering mother. the two of them were alone in their marui, weaving baskets like two well-oiled machines. they’d been in desperate need of storage, especially now that they were, well, fully moving into this place, it seemed. so, when neytiri had asked for help a few days prior, [y/n] of course volunteered.

now, she wished she hadn’t been such a kind and gracious daughter.

luckily, neytiri hadn’t wished to talk. the two, instead, sat in comfortable silence, almost hypnotized by their own fingers moving at impressive paces to finish these damn baskets. well, maybe a more correct statement would be, neytiri sat in comfortable silence. [y/n], however, was still drowning in guilt mixed with dread.

every few minutes, [y/n] feels the words on her tongue, and she’s so tempted to just… say it. to confess it, to tell her mother everything, but every time she looks up, every time she looks at her mother’s focused face, she lets her cowardice win.

she looks back down and keeps weaving.

this goes on for hours—endless and awful—and, by the end of it, [y/n] is suffocating. partially because she’s choking on her own words, her own truth, and also partly because the thought of getting in any trouble whatsoever causes her skin to heat up, her neck start to itch, her body to nearly shut down.

part of her wondered if it was just better to admit it so everything could end. the anxiety, the fear, the nerves. but, then again, that anxiety, that fear, those nerves… they were there for a reason.

[y/n] had been fully stuck in her own head, spiralling endlessly into what-ifs and worst-case-scenarios, that she hadn’t even noticed neteyam enter. he was watching her from afar, eyes furrowed in a sort of concern that mirror their mother’s, as she continued this endless cycle. weaving, stopping, looking up at neytiri, blushing a deep indigo, and looking down at her hands to continue weaving.

finally, her older brother had enough. “[y/n]?” he finally caught her attention (which, by the way, almost made her jump out of her skin considering she hadn’t even realized he was there).

“neteyam,” she breathed, a hand on her chest as she kept herself grounded. “do you need something?”

he gave her a look, and she, of course, instantly knew. “can we talk?”

she didn’t even bother fighting it. it wasn’t worth it, and by the way neteyam was looking at her, he would not leave her alone until she confided in him. sometimes, his generosity and kindness was a blessing, but other times… well, it was exhausting to be on the other end of his empathy if you really had no interest in talking about your feelings.

regardless of how much she didn’t want to talk to neteyam, though, [y/n] still found herself following him outside, until they were a few feet away—enough for neytiri to not be able to overhear.

“so,” he finally started, drawing out the ‘o,’ “you said you would tell them today.” it wasn’t a question, it was a very definitive, very irrefutable statement.

[y/n] still found herself questioning it, though. “did i really?” she gasped, pressing a mock hand to her chest. “i could’ve sworn i said next year, neteyam, silly me!”

“[y/n].” the look he gave her was pointed, and she found herself groaning, head dropped back so that she looked straight up into the sky.

“‘teyam,” she whined, looking at him with tired eyes that were begging for sympathy. “you know it’s easier said than done.”

neteyam only smiled at that, though, a hand pressing down on his sister’s shoulders. “yes, i know. even though lo’ak keeps saying you’re just a wuss.”

[y/n] couldn’t help but scoff at that remark, her arms now crossed across her chest. “me a wuss? why does he have to be such a prick all the time?” shaking her head, she suddenly realized, “you know what! you can tell him that he’s a wuss because he still hasn’t asked tsireya out. at least i am getting some action.”

at that, neteyam’s head rolled backwards as he let out a string of laughter. “you can tell him that yourself.”

then, she rose a brow. “uh, no. i already have enough confessions to make.”

dinner time came quicker than [y/n] hoped, but she knew it was probably for the best, because dinner time meant she could finally get this stupid shit over with and just tell her parents and hope she didn’t die as a result of it.

the food itself was… not great—another meal of fish—but, [y/n] had no appetite anyway. the entire meal, she picked at her plate, pulling the poor creature apart due to the anxiety that was ultimately disguised as boredom.

however, her disenchantment was quite noticeable to all those around her. lo’ak and neteyam watched her warily—they knew everything, so it was only slightly concerning. but, everyone else… well, it was weird to see [y/n], of all people, so bummed out. especially since she’d just been starting to seem to happy here.

finally, it was neytiri who asked. “[y/n],” she called for her middle daughter’s attention, and as the girl looked up, she could feel a pit open in her stomach. “are you alright? you haven’t been yourself all day.”

every part of [y/n] screamed at her to say yup, totally fine! and move on, but one look at neteyam and lo’ak, and she knew it was time to rip off the bandage. she paused for a moment, looking once at her mother, then her father, and then let out a long breath. “i’m fine,” she started, because she really didn’t want her parents to panic, “but… can i talk to you two? alone?”

the request was met almost immediately. instantly, jake and neytiri walked with their daughter outside (none of them really liked fish anyway, so they weren’t missing out much on dinner), their faces etched with concern the entire time. neytiri’s eyes were soft, concerned, and jake’s brows were furrowed down.

she’d seen those faces so many times, but they almost never in response to her. her stomach twirled.

“what is it, [y/n]?” jake asked, sitting down beside his daughter on the dock. “you know, you can tell us anything.”

she sighed, an ironic smile playing at her lips. “that’s what all parents say, isn’t it?” but, at neytiri’s unimpressed face at such a lame attempt of a joke, [y/n] shook her head. no more beating around the bush.

then, she took one, full, deep breath, before it all came spilling out. at once. “okay so a month ago or something aonung and i became friends and then we started becoming more than friends and like i know he’s been stupid before and he’s been rude to kiri and cruel to lo’ak but y’know their friendships are okay now and he apologized to kiri and he really isn’t a bad person. he’s really nice! and i just… i think i really like him, and i also started sneaking out to see him because that’s the only time i thought we could just be him and me without any stress until neteyam and lo’ak basically stalked us last night and forced me into confessing to you guys, so if you’re mad at me you should actually be mad at them because they made me do this.”

the silence after her confession was unbearable.

[y/n] squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself for it—the disappointment, the anger, the lecture that would last for hours. her heart was hammering so hard she was sure they could hear it.

then—

her dad laughed.

not a loud laugh. not even really a laugh at all. more like a breath that turned into a sound, dragged out of him from sheer relief. he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, rubbing a hand over his face. “that’s it?” he said quietly.

[y/n]’s eyes snapped open. “what?”

neytiri blinked, her ears flicking back in disbelief before she let out a shaky breath of her own. her hand pressed briefly to her chest, as if grounding herself. “ma eywa,” she murmured. “i thought you were sad. or sick. or that something terrible had happened to you.”

the words hit [y/n] harder than any scolding could have.

“you’ve been pale all day,” neytiri continued softly. “quiet. afraid. my heart has been heavy since morning.”

guilt flooded her all over again. “i didn’t mean to scare you,” she said quickly. “i just—i didn’t know how to say it.”

jake straightened, finally looking at her fully. his expression wasn’t angry. it wasn’t disappointed. it was tired, but warm. understanding in that way that made her throat tighten. “baby girl,” he said, “we were worried you were in danger. sneaking out is bad, yeah—but this?” he gestured vaguely between them. “this is… growing up.”

neytiri nodded. “you have been strong for so long,” she said, reaching out to brush her thumb over [y/n]’s knuckles. “you carry much without speaking of it. it is not wrong to want someone. to find comfort.”

[y/n] swallowed. “even if it’s aonung?”

neytiri’s mouth twitched despite herself. “your father was far worse.”

“hey,” jake protested immediately.

neytiri shot him a look. “you were reckless. loud. stubborn.” and when he grumbled an unintelligible response, she rolled her eyes. “in fact, you still are.”

that finally cracked it. a laugh bubbled out of [y/n] before she could stop it—short, breathless, a little hysterical. she brought a hand up to her face, scrubbing at her eyes.

“okay,” jake said gently, sobering. “here’s the deal. no more sneaking out. that part stops.”

[y/n] nodded instantly. “yeah. yeah, okay. that makes sense, i guess.”

“we want to know where you are,” neytiri added. “that you are safe.”

“i get it,” [y/n] said, softer now. “i really do.”

neytiri pulled her into a hug before she could think too hard about it, arms wrapping around her shoulders, firm and warm and grounding. [y/n] melted into it without hesitation. a second later, jake joined in too—awkward, broad, squeezing a little too tight.

for the first time all day, the knot in [y/n]’s chest loosened.

later, curled up in her nivi, she stared at the ceiling long after the marui had gone quiet. no more sneaking out, she told herself. i promised.

the thought lasted maybe five minutes.

because all she could think about was aonung. about how close she’d come to ruining everything out of fear. about how she didn’t want to end the day without seeing him.

“just this once,” she whispered into the dark, and quietly, she slipped out of her nivi and into the open air of awa’atlu. her feet carried her towards the water like muscle memory, getting just a bit faster with each step.

then, she saw him.

standing near the shore, arms crossed, staring out at the ocean like he was debating whether to give up and head back. his shoulders visibly relaxed when he spotted her. “you’re okay,” he said, relief plain in his voice, and the soft smile that settled on his lips was enough to make her realize that, even if she was breaking a rule, it was worth it.

“yeah,” she breathed. “i am.”

they sat together in the sand, close but not touching. she told him everything—about her parents, the confession, the rule. he listened without interrupting, jaw tight, eyes soft.

“you actually told them,” he said when she finished, a little stunned.

“yeah,” she shrugged. “almost threw up, but… yeah.”

he huffed a quiet laugh. “you’re braver than you give yourself credit for. i mean, i feel like you told so many stories of the forest where you ran away, where you were scared, but… well, i think what you did was pretty courageous.” when [y/n] gave him an unimpressed look, he held up his hands in mock defense. “i mean it! i know i offered to tell my parents last night, but… i still don’t know if i could.”

she laughed softly. “well, you’re mom’s terrifying, so i get it.”

“so is your mom.”

“yeah, you’re right.”

they sat in silence for a moment. then aonung turned to her, suddenly serious. “i don’t want to be the reason you get in trouble.”

“you’re not,” she said immediately. “this was my choice.”

their faces were close now. closer than they’d ever been. the ocean hummed around them, steady and endless. [y/n] watched, in anxious silence, as aonung gaze dropped to her mouth for half a second—long enough to make her stomach flip.

they leaned toward each other without any explicit decision. just… instinct.

it was slow. unsure. their noses brushed first, awkward and soft, and she almost laughed before his hand came up, resting at her wrist like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to touch more than that.

he paused just before their lips touched, a silent question hanging in the air. is this okay? he seemed to ask. she answered wordlessly, closing the gap between them.

the kiss wasn’t perfect. it wasn’t smooth. their timing was a little off, teeth bumping lightly before they figured it out. but when they did, it felt… real. warm. grounding. 

he pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against hers, breathing out a quiet, almost disbelieving laugh. “okay,” he whispered. “yeah.”

she smiled, eyes still closed. “yeah.”

and when they finally let go, it felt like something had settled into place—nothing loud or dramatic. just right.

back in the sully’s marui, neytiri and jake laid wide awake. “she went out,” jake whispered to his mate, shifting just slightly so she nuzzle into the crook of his neck.

he could feel neytiri smile against him skin, breath warm as she spoke softly, “yes.”

neither of them moved to stop it. for the first time since leaving the forest, peace settled between them—small, fragile, but real. at least one of their children was finding her place in this new world. 

Various other clan women are also completing the same tasks, idle chatter falling around you. Many are pleased with the result of this hunt, some gloat over the kills their mates or children have made, a few congratulate you on the kills you made today as well. 

The corners of your lips tilt upwards, a pleased grin settling on your cheeks. As the Olo’eyktan and Tsahik’s oldest child duty settled heavy on your shoulders. A good hunt today meant that the clan would be happy for at least a week, which meant that your parents would be happy for the week, so you could also be happy for the week. 

“I heard you killed the largest her’ang today,” Posma whispered next to you. Your ear flicks, as the words take form in your head.

She was correct to hear that you had killed the biggest her’ang, but you did not say that to anyone. You would never boast about such a thing. 

“Who said that?” Your hand pauses in its motion as you turn your head, refusing to slice without eyes on your target.

Posma giggles at you, she is one of your oldest friends, the two of you being together since you could only toddle along the furs. “It does not matter. You should be proud.”

“Being proud is not becoming.” 

“It’s not unbecoming!”

You huff, “There is a fine line between being proud and being pompous. Most toe the line, I do not desire to do such a thing.”

You turn your head back towards your work. Shearing the last few pieces of fat from the pelt you sheath your knife. Due to its curved shape you must tie it before you can move onto your next task.

As you’re scooping your curved fingers into a jar filled with salt Posma continues, “You would not. It would not deter anyone if you were to take some satisfaction in your accomplishments.”

“Focus on your duties Posma.” You flick your tail in her direction, trying to shoo her away, “We can participate in such discussions later.”

Your fingers splay the salt in a decently thick coating across the pelt. It must be enough to thoroughly dry the pelt, but it cannot be too much where the pelt cannot breathe. A final glance across the entire pelt leaves you with the conclusion that you can leave it for the night and check upon it again tomorrow.

You turn to leave, wanting to know how the rest of the preparations of the kills are going. But you make sure to call out to Posma one more time before you leave, “You will sit next to me tonight?” 

Her cheery reply follows less than a second later, “Always!” 

Hometree and most of the clan's establishments resided underground, deeply embedded into the ground. It was much warmer there than temperatures outside, but furs and pelts were still required if you desired to be a comfortable temperature while walking around. 

You move towards the outer areas of the village, wanting to see if every kill has been brought in yet. However on your way there a shot of your name makes you still in your path.

It is Huamtey who calls you. One of the clan warriors, one that you were out hunting with just earlier today. “You must come, I cannot find the Olo’eyktan.”

“My father is missing?”

“You misunderstand, I believe he is tied up with other duties and I cannot find him.” Huamtey grimaces a little, nervous of your reaction to his miscommunication, “The sentries said they are hearing foreign wails, I was hoping the Olo’eyktan would lead the search.”

“But I am the next best thing?”

“You are mighty. We would be honored if you guided us.”

A smile graces your lips as you nod. Whatever beast resided outside the village gates, you and this search party would slay it. Whatever it was would not harm your people. 

As you emerge from the gates, you raise your hand in greeting to the sentries. Then you lay your eyes upon the group. It is small, only eight of them, but it would do. You had killed big predators with less people.

A deep call resonates in your throat, but your lips stay sealed. You repeat the call a few times, urging your mount to approach. In the distance you can see shifting between the trees, your legs carry you forward to meet it halfway. As you approach your herwanpalu a rough, loud rumbling emerges from deep in his chest. 

He is happy to see you so soon. Your hand reaches out to scratch along his forehead eventually falling behind one of his ears. You saddle him, tightening the straps before turning back towards the group. “Let us go, it will be dark soon.”

It is hard to miss the yowls of the unknown creatures. They are sharp, and loud – one might assume that they were calling out, searching for something. But that would be a naive thought, there were only predators and prey in this taiga, and this thing would become prey whether it wanted to or not. 

The calls lead the nine of you to the tundra. No trees reside here making it risky hunting grounds. But if the beast wanted to fight here, who were you to deny it? 

You first scan the ground, searching for some large disfigured creature to be staring back at you. You find none, instead you see five shadows seemingly circling around. When you look up you see bright and deeply shaded creatures. 

Ones that you’ve never seen before. They’re colors you’re familiar with, seeing them in the summer months, but they definitely do not belong here in winter. You start making motions with your hands, dividing and directing the group so you could circle them.

The members are to find a good angle, one that they can get a presumed clean kill shot from. On your mark they will take it, if you’re lucky all five will go down at once. An immaculate feat, one you would shortly be discussing over fresh meat at the cookfire.

The white of the pelts blends nicely with the herwanpalu furs, and their furs blend almost seamlessly with the snow. The flying creatures shouldn’t be able to see any danger until it is too late. 

You raise your bow, aiming for the chest cavity of the beast. You can hear a hunting call come from your right, another from your left – it was time to strike. When your arrow sailed, theirs would fly too.

But then you falter. There is something atop the creature. Could it be mangkwan? No. They never ventured to these parts, it being far too cold for their hot nature. 

“Hold!” You hiss, just loud enough for the group to hear. “Hold position, do not reveal yourselves. I will make contact.”

You dismount your herwanpalu, slinging your bow back over your shoulder and flipping your hood down. You shout, “If you wish to live, land your beast and surrender!” 

The call triggers a response. At first the beasts begin banking tightly left and right, granting their riders better visibility to the land below. And then they descend and land.

You allow them to clamber off of their mounts, to come to stand before you before questioning, “Who are you?” 

“We seek uturu.”

“Who are you to seek uturu?”

“I am Jake Sully, my mate Neytiri, and our children. You’re from the Herwìslär clan right?” His hands are upturned trying to seem like he is not a threat. You step to the side, eyeing his family. They looked to be cold, slightly huddled together, their animal hide cloaks doing nothing to shield them from the freezing tundra temperatures. 

You’re skeptical. They may be trying to cause chaos, to destroy the clan from the inside out. The doubt flows entirely through your body, your tail lashing, ears pressed tightly to your skull. It triggers Neytiri to speak.

“My husband was Toruk Makto. He brought the clans together against the sky people.”

Toruk Makto? This man was Toruk Makto? That was not a name to be taken lightly, the stories of a great flying beast, the scariest thing in the sky; and the very few Na’vi who were able to tame it were named Toruk Makto.

If these Na’vi were any bit honorable they would not throw the title around. You could indulge them at the very least, bring them in and if they misbehaved take them as prisoners. 

“Reveal yourselves!” Your voice booms out across the tundra. Jake Sully and his family flinch, surprised at the sudden burst of energy. Their heads whipping around at the sudden movement of the warriors around you.

Then you point, “You will follow me. And they,” Your hand changes direction towards the warriors, “Will follow you. Come.”

As you direct them back towards the village you can only imagine what your father will think. If he will believe that you made the right choice, or if he will be disappointed that you risked the safety of the clan. 

You motion the sentries to open the gate, allowing you entrance to the village. One of the warriors runs ahead to go retrieve your father. You continue to bring the Sullys forwards, deeper into the village.

“Where are we going?” 

It is Jake who speaks up. Apparently the only one with a voice in his family. You spare him a glance, seeing the apprehension clear on his face.

“To see the Olo’eyktan. He will decide your fate.”

That seems to settle him. Neytiri begins whispering something, keeping it low enough that even just a few feet away you cannot hear them chatter. It did not matter though, your father approached and their fates would soon be sealed.

Your father stands strong. If his furs did not differentiate him from the rest of the clan, then surely the necklace and beaded covering that rested on top of them would. The deep black tattoos in distinctive lines decorated his face more than others. 

But if none of that directed the Sully's to who this was, then his presence must have. It commanded attention more so than others, leaving you nowhere else to look.  

You take the last few steps to him as he opens his mouth to speak, “What is this?”

“They seek uturu. Apparently the father is Toruk Makto.” You meet his eyes briefly, before walking past him and turning to stand slightly behind him.

“Toruk Makto seeks uturu with us? The Herwìslär people?”

Jake nods “Yes. We will learn your ways, be helpful, right?” He turns, nodding to his family, encouraging them to agree with his statements.

“It will be tough, difficult to teach who has already been taught.”

“We can learn. We can adapt. We will adapt.”

“Then it is decided.” Your father steps forwards, reaching his arm out in the traditional Na’vi binding contract, “Toruk Makto and his family will receive uturu with us! Teach them our ways, and treat them as our own!”

As Jake wraps his hand around your fathers forearm, your father continues his brief speech, “You may learn with me, your mate with mine. My daughter will teach your children the ways. Nume nìwin.”

As they separate you rush to your fathers side. “Father. They are dark, they will easily attract attention when hunting.”

“Then you will give them extra pelts to cover.” He dismisses you easily, readily moving direct people to either help the Sullys to a kelku, or return to their prior duties. 

“But look at their tails! They will freeze off when the winter gets harsher.”

“Pelts, again daughter.”

“And their eyes! The brightness will make it difficult to see when they leave the village!”

“You are to teach them our ways.” He turns, locking you in place with a pointed stare, “Do not make me repeat myself, and do not give more excuses as to how useless they will be without seeing their capabilities.”

You tuck into yourself. Abashed at being reprimanded and dismissed out in public, you turn back to the Sullys, “Come I will bring you to your kelku, so you may drop off your things. Then we will go get pelts so you do not freeze to death.”

Looks like you would not be sitting with Posma at the cookfire.

“Not like that.” You tug Neteyams hands away from the pelt and fur he is stitching together. You begin unstitching the progress he has made.

Neteyam is watching your movements carefully, “What was I doing wrong?”

His voice is curious – a genuineness to it that makes you want to believe that he truly wants to make it better.

“Your stitch would allow air to slip between the pelt and the fur. It would not insulate properly.” You take the needle crafted of bone from his hand and begin to stitch slowly, “When you stitch like this it traps the heat, pushing it back onto your body instead of allowing it to escape.”

You hand the coat back to Neteyam first, then the needle. He nods at you before beginning to stitch the same way you showed him. When you are content with how he is working you spare a glance at the rest of the group.  

Posma and Tempat have joined you in your duties. They seem to be working well with the remaining Sully kids. Posma guiding Kiri and Tuk, while Tempat is stuck with Lo'ak.

Fur binding is one of the most essential skills that a Herwìslär member must know. It is something that you learn as a child. As if you were to get lost or stranded and cannot craft a proper coat you will freeze to death. 

You wish you were hunting today. Or drying pelts. Even foraging would be more preferable. You truly wish you were doing anything else besides teaching remedial skills to mostly grown Na'vi.

Before your mind can drift Neteyam calls you softly, when you turn your head he hands over the coat again. “Did I do it properly?”

You turn it over in your palms. Visually the stitches seem good, like they will hold. Then you begin tugging roughly around the seams. If the stitching was bad, they would burst from your onslaught. 

However, they don’t. You smile a little when you hand Neteyam his coat again, “It will hold. Good work.”

He smiles at that. Proud at being able to adapt like his father said, to make something of his own in a new clan, and maybe just a little bit at your smile. He has not seen you smile often since his family has arrived, and for him to be the cause of your baby blue cheeks raising to make space for the upturn of your lips makes satisfaction settle warm in his chest.

Lo’ak’s whine drags your attention away, “When are we gonna ride a mount?”

“Soon.”

“When is soon? We have been cooped up in here for days now.” 

“Lo’ak!” Neteyam smacks the back of his head, “Apologize.”

Before Lo’ak can open his mouth again, you laugh a little. You suppose they must be feeling like caged animals, not seeing the true sky for many nights as the pelts they received on the first night were not well fitted for taiga exploration. 

And you were just thinking about wanting to be anywhere but here. Itching to go outside and to have the fresh frozen air sting your lungs. 

“Come, we can attempt to ride with your new furs.”

Lo’ak is smiling, but then he realizes you did not promise a ride. “Attempt?”

“Yes. Herwanpalu do not allow just anyone to ride.” 

“So they are like ikran, one rider for one mount.”

Posma speaks then, “Not particularly! Some herwanpalu are more friendly, and they allow multiple riders. Others are possessive, even going to great lengths to prevent their riders from mounting another.”

Her light, happy tone helps settle the Sully children a little bit. If she mentioned it, that must mean that there are plenty of herwanpalu willing to allow them to ride. 

As your small group emerges out of the gate and into the taiga in front of you, you begin grunting. The sound comes from the back of your throat, with your lips closed. Posma and Tempat follow you, making their own sounds.

“Each herwanpalu comes at a specific call.” You turn to face the Sullys as you explain, “We teach them their calls as cubs, when they are most impressionable. Some will answer when any use their call, others may refuse as Posma said.”

Your mount approaches. He circles you while purring, before turning to sniff at the air where the Sullys stand. Now that he has come, you begin a new call, urging another friendlier mount to come.

“This is Wi’tsin.” You pet his head lovingly as Tuk approaches, “He and I have been together many years. He is one of the more possessive mounts that Posma had mentioned.”

While he may have been possessive, Wi’tsin would not hurt anyone you showed favor to. He allows the Sullys to pet him, to feel the difference of his furs. 

Tuk hasn’t taken her hands off him, she seems to be enamoured with the softness of him, “Can I ride him?” 

“You may join me if your siblings allow it.”

She whips around facing Neteyam with a dragged out pleaseeee. You can see the fondness in his eyes even though his expression remains contemplative. But then he nods, “I suppose she is more experienced and it would be a better ride.” 

He was right, it would be a better ride with you. No tumbling, or fighting for control. She would have a good time. So after you get everyone else settled, get them saddled up and positioned correctly on the mounts you tug Tuk up onto Wi’tsin.

“We will head to the lake, then return.” You motion your mount to move through the bond, “It is a simple ride, the perfect opportunity to learn the mounts.”

While the herwanpalu were not difficult mounts to ride, it was still new to the Sullys. They would need to learn the breathing patterns of the beasts. Need to learn how their paws felt pressing into the snow. How their ears were attuned to even the smallest critters, and their tails swished to allow them quick turns. 

The first bit of the trek, you direct them to walk. To zig and zag through the trees, to feel the curve of the herwanpalu’s spine. To understand how swiftly they can move. 

It goes about as well as you would assume. Lo’ak falls off on his first turn, telling the herwanpalu to move faster than you had told him to. He was unused to how to move his body in turn with the mounts, so when she dove to avoid a tree he flew off her back.

You show them that the mounts may also be used for climbing, demonstrating with Tuk and yourself upon a tree. It is then that Kiri falls off. On her recount she ‘misjudged how rough her mount would slam onto the tree’ and then the story shortly changed to being shocked at the feeling of the bark underneath the mount's claws course through her fingers. 

By the time you make it to the lake the only one to not make a fool of themselves and take a tumble in the fresh snowfall is Neteyam. He took every motion with stride, moved with the mount as if they were one. He curved his spine on the sharp turns, and pressed himself into the furs and saddle while climbing up the trees. 

“This is the grand lake. It thaws in the warmer months, allowing for free fishing and swimming.” As you monologue, you begin to walk out towards the center of the lake, “Most of it freezes during the winter, but we carve into the ice to allow for fishing. Would you like to try?”

“We know how to fish, zusawkrr olo’eyk

te.” Lo’ak laughs as if it is childish to assume they don’t know how to fish.

That they don’t know how to carve the ice. That they don’t know they must tie some twine to the end of their arrows. That they don’t know how important it is to angle properly, and strike as soon as they see their target.

So instead of helping them, you decide to let them figure it out themselves. Striding back over to Wi’tsin, you dig into a woven bag attached to his saddle. You place the serrated crystal knife into Lo’ak’s hand and gesture towards the ice at his feet, “Show me.”

It does not go well. 

Lo’ak doesn’t carve deep enough the first time, so Tempat takes the knife and shows him how to properly carve into the ice. 

You have to admit that he does take a good shot. His arrow is aimed well, sinking directly into his kill. But without any twine, there is no way to drag it back to the surface. 

Lo’ak has been teasing you since the Sullys arrived. Trying to poke the right buttons. Attempting to break your composure. You assume comedy is his comfort, so it does not offend you.

But it does little to soften you to the Sullys. Still not believing they could be useful, that they could fully acclimate to your people. 

Their ability to ride the herwanpalu does little to change your mind. If they wanted to survive here, they would have to learn this mount at the minimum. 

Nonetheless you are pleased with their progress towards becoming competent. 

Pleased that you are one step closer to not having to see them unless you desired.

It’s late, the cookfire nearly being diminished to embers.

A few weeks have passed since you taught him and his siblings how to ride their first Herwìslär mount. The rest of their lessons have been going smoothly since.

You had just allowed Neteyam and Lo’ak to join on their first group hunt. Tonight's dinner being partially the fruits of their labor. So when Neteyam approaches you, you decide to grant him a small smile. 

He tries to smile back, it looks more like a grimace however, with how his eyebrows are pinched and his eyes are lost in thought. “You know I was a warrior with the Omatikaya.”

You nod, well aware of his past.

“I wish to become a warrior here too.”

It was not an outlandish thing to ask. He wanted responsibility, to prove himself in the clan. But it was risky; the Herwìslär final rite of passage being taming their own flying mount. You assume it also has something to do with how his mother and fathers txawuks have recently matured. 

You must tame it while it is a juvenile, making the bond when it is still young. They are ridable from the time of taming, but it still takes a few months for them to reach full size.

It is of utmost importance to avoid the mother. Many Na’vi have passed from the trial; dying from the fall, succumbing to their injuries, or never returning after interacting with the mother.

“You are not ready. The txawuk are not forgiving.”

He shuffles into a seat next to you, “Ikran try to kill us as well. It is how we know we picked the proper mount, as they must also pick us.”

You run your tongue across your bottom teeth. Shaking your head lightly as you weigh your choices, as you debate Neteyam’s odds.

He speaks again when you don’t respond, “I am strong. You have seen me hunt, I am reliable. I can do this.”

“I cannot save you if something goes wrong.” You side eye him, “If you slip, if you are bitten, if you do not seal the bond, I cannot interfere.”

“I will not fail. My fingers will not lose their grip, and my reflexes will not slow.”

You click your tongue in annoyance. Neteyam was not giving this up, you would grant him his request if he completed a final test.

“You will hunt a her’ang tomorrow, without assistance.” You turn to face him, greyed out green eyes staring into his amber ones, “If you complete the test I will grant your request to complete your final rite and be welcomed into the arms of the people as one of us.”

Neteyam smiles then, it’s more boyish than you’ve seen him smile. A warmth blooms in your chest as you admire him, finally beginning to see him as one of the people. To allow yourself to view all possibilities of him.

“I will not fail.” Neteyam reiterates. Overjoyed that he’s so close to getting his wish granted. 

You send him off to sleep then, informing him that it would be a long and tiring hunt and he needed his energy. You follow shortly after retiring to your own kelku. 

In the morning you inform your father that you will be gone on a hunt. He reminds you that the winds shifted yesterday, that the skies in the distance looked to be gray with snowfall.

But you brush him off. You’ve hunted in storms before, been stuck out in the wilderness in even the harshest of winds and temperatures. And if Neteyam wanted to become a warrior in the eyes of your people, he would have to prove himself in all conditions.

So the two of you head out, dressed in the warmest furs, quivers full where they are attached to your herwanpalu’s, spare paint hanging from your tewng in case yours came off in the snowfall. The snow is light at the start of your hunt, coming down fast but not enough to obscure your vision.

You are only there to observe, to step in if everything goes terribly wrong. Neteyam leads, tracking the her’ang up a mountain. The tracking gets difficult then, old prints getting frosted over in new snowfall.

Maybe you underestimated the snow. It was falling heavier than you thought it would, and Neteyam was too stubborn to make camp earlier in the night when there was still light to aid you. 

So you call out to him, hoping it reaches his ears despite the howling winds, “Neteyam!”

He turns to face you, his hood resting heavy over his forehead. He waits for you to reach him, “What is it?”

“We must find shelter.” 

“But we are so close!” 

Neteyam was always the responsible one of his siblings. Always the one to pull back before things could escalate so it made no sense why he would be so set on staying out in these harsh conditions.

“I know you cannot feel your toes! And that your fingers feel as if they will fall off even when tucked into your furs!” You’re peering at him through snow-crusted lashes, “There is a cave, in that part of the mountainside! I have rested there before, come!”

You don’t allow him to protest, directing Wi’tsin towards the cave. The two of you needed to get out of the snow as soon as possible. Needed to start a fire, and regain circulation in your phalanges before you lost them. 

When you get to the deepest part of the cave Neteyam speaks up again. “I am sorry. I shouldn’t have forced us to go deeper.”

“Do not apologize.” You begin sparking stones together to start a fire, “Eagerness is nothing to be ashamed of.”

The two of you do not speak much. Neteyam thinking about how difficult it would be to find the her’ang in the morning, how if it continued moving in the storm he would never see it again. You debating how long it would be before you could return home. 

As the night goes on the snow does not relent. It filters into the cave, resting softly in the mouth waiting to dissolve in the morning.

The chill in the air sends shivers up your spine. Even though you have experienced many overnight hunts, on most of them you had properly insulated shelters. If you did not, you at least did not have the snow blowing at you. 

The furs and the fire do nothing to quell the nip in the air. Nothing to soothe the ache in your chest from inhaling the frozen air. You shift, unfurling from the ball you curled yourself into before peering at where Wi’tsin is. 

Maybe you could curl up with him, allowing his furs to warm you along with your own. But you cannot bring yourself to call to him, he is huddled closely with Neteyam’s herwanpalu. The two of them sharing body heat to fight off the cold.

You suppose it was a good idea. That it could be a useful tool, especially if Eywa's creation was also partaking. So you call softly to Neteyam.

If he was asleep you did not wish to wake him, but you knew his sharp ears would pick up on your voice if he was still awake. 

It takes a few moments, but he slowly shifts to face you. “What is it? Are you alright?” 

“Are you cold?”

He laughs at the stupidity of your question, the breaths he heave fog up in front of you, “Yes. I am cold.”

“Would you like to…” Oh Eywa this was embarrassing. “Would you like to share body heat?”

“What?” Neteyam's disbelieved tone comes softly across the fire, the crackling nearly covering it completely. 

“We can rest on your fur, or mine, and rest the other above us so that we can trap all the heat together.”

He nods, “All right.” 

You shuffle over quickly. Ushering him to take off his fur as you toss yours on the stone ground of the cave. As he shrugs it off his shoulders you smooth out your fur and plant yourself on the left side.

As Neteyam settles on the right side he tosses his pelt over you, tugging it over himself until it rests comfortably over both of you.

He notices your distance. It's clear that despite being the one to suggest being close, you're trying to stay away from him.

Believing it to be because of him, he reassures you, “You can come closer. I do not mind.” 

“No, it is fine. Just give it a few minutes. The heat will accumulate soon.”

Then your eyes are closing. Dismissing him as the slightest bit of heat settles around you. 

It takes Neteyam a bit longer to fall asleep. He's been infatuated since the moment he first saw you after landing his ikran in the snowy plain. 

The misty blue tone your skin had, and the slate blue stripes that seemed to wrap around your body in more wispy patterns than he had ever seen on someone from the Omatikaya. 

The pattern your bioluminescent freckles made upon your face, some of them even gleaming brightly underneath the black paint you had plastered across your eyes. 

The tattoo you had on your chin. One line leading seemingly from your mouth, down the middle of your lip and chin to where it ended somewhere between your jawline and neck. Two dotted lines frame the one solid line, following its path down your chin.

And now he's getting to see it all up close. To stare at you unabashed. So Eywa forgive him if he resists sleep for a while to admire.

Eventually his eyelids drift close from exhaustion. But the chill in the air does not stop just because the two of you are under the same fur.

Unconsciously, the two of you drift closer together; moving towards the warmth the other is emanating. You turn from facing him, your back now pressing into his front.

You wake slowly. Eyes blinking languidly as they try to scrunch to remove the crust that has settled on your inner eyes.

You don't recognize the warmth at your back at first. Assuming it is just from your heat getting trapped between the pelts. Then there's a soft exhale on your cheek.

Your body stills completely, eyes widening in shock, while you try to slow your own breathing so as to not startle whatever beast is looming over you. When you slide your eyes up towards the ceiling of the cave and spot nothing, a confused look graces your features.

Upon turning slightly, you're met with Neteyam's neck. It's then that you realize he has a grip around your waist. That your legs are tangled with his. And that his chest is pressed tightly to your back.

What had happened while you were asleep? How did you end up all the way in his personal space? Or did he inch his way into yours?

You shift to leave. Slowly untangling your legs, then you try to remove his grasp on your waist. In your shifting Neteyam stirs, grip tightening until you clear your throat lightly.

“Oh. I am sorry.” An indigo tint rises to his cheeks in embarrassment. 

“It is fine. We must have shifted towards each other's warmth.” You want to sit, want to sling your fur back on and shrink back into yourself. But Neteyam is still lying down, still waking from his rest.

“You did not mind?” A slight upturn graces his lips.

A blush graces your cheeks now, “It was out of necessity.”

“Would you have minded if it had not been out of necessity?”

You huff. Sitting up despite the cold, allowing your skin to prickle at the temperature. “Focus on becoming one of the people, then you may ask me such questions.”

Neteyam moves as you do, quickly donning his fur and moving off of yours so that you may dress as well.

He hunts well that day. Tracks fast. Moving as one with the cold.

The bite in his lungs urging him to move swiftly, but not brashly.

When the two of you come close to the her'ang, you still. Using your mounts to become one with the trees.

Neteyam takes atypical aim, piercing through the beast's skull instead of its heart. But you whoop and yip all the same once the kill is made. Proud that he has accomplished such a task on his own.

Proud that he will soon claim his txawuk.

Proud that he will be one of your people soon.

When you finally return to the village the rest of the clan's people react the same. You usher Neteyam to them as you haul his kill to be skinned and broken down into all its pieces. 

Your favorite member of the family is Tuk. Children are the most impressionable, and she takes well to your customs. 

She adores your carvings made of bone. Nestles into the furs you’ve gifted her. Asks to go on rides on Wi’tsin whenever you have free time. And if you cannot take her, she runs to one of the many friends she's made in your clan.

But you make a special exception for Neteyam in your heart after waking up with him in the cave. The past months spent with him have a new look to them, a brighter hue as you see all his redeeming qualities.

It was an old tradition to have one of your most honored furs be that of the first her'ang you killed by your lonesome. You had not passed the knowledge to Neteyam, deciding it would make for a good surprise. One last gift before he joined your people as a warrior.

So you personally skin the beast. Tie it to the drying posts. Paste salts upon it. Then you wait.

Four days pass before the furs are ready.

Your patience almost wore thin, almost believing that they would not be ready before he took on his final rite. But thank Eywa, they were ready. 

Your stride is soft as you approach the Sully tent, not wanting to wake anyone still sleeping inside. You can hear murmurs whispering from inside, but pay them no mind. Most of the village has not risen yet and it would be rude to speak in loud tones.

A familiar name passes through the conversation though. Your name is sounded out by Lo’ak’s voice – it is then that you decide to listen instead of making your presence known. 

“I’m just sayin bro. You’ve got her sweet on you after your hunt.”

Neteyam laughs a bit boyishly, “It is not like that.”

“Yeah but even Tuk couldn’t get her to let up on us. Always nagging about the clan ways, and how we wouldn’t fit.”

Oh Eywa forbid you were skeptical that Na’vi that came from a tropical climate would have a hard time adjusting. 

“She likes Tuk. They do many things together.”

“Sure, but she still hounded us. You, me and Kiri had to learn so much. And she didn’t even give us compassion for the simple fact that we were here because of uturu!”

A sigh resonates in the space. You can hear some shuffling before Neteyams voice sounds again.

“She just worries for the future, Lo’ak. A heavy title rests on her shoulders.”

“Yeah but she didn’t have to be such an ass about it.”

You were brash, sure. Drilled your customs into their skulls. Made them practice the same tasks a hundred times. 

But they were things you had done thousands of times, things any person their age was well familiar with. And if they wanted to be sure members in your clan, then they needed to be able to complete the tasks without needing assistance. 

“Listen, I’m just saying thanks for working her so that we could catch a break, I knew you’d come around.”

Working you? This whole time Neteyam was just feeding into you, trying to receive your affections so his siblings would not have to hear from you?

You supposed you were tough on them. But you did not threaten to skin them, did not shy away from their jokes or their teasing. If they wanted to take things slower, or differentiate the skills they practiced, why not just say something?

Despite yourself, when a sinking feeling invades your chest, you realize that you did come to like them. That you enjoyed their company, and could even see yourself spending time with them after they had been properly integrated into the clan.

Clearly your sentiments were not returned. 

Lo’ak and Kiri were far enough in their rites that you did not have to deal with them anymore. Tuk could join the other young children at this point. And Neteyam would be finishing his final rite shortly, freeing you of his presence. 

You did not need to make a scene. Did not need to confront them for their hurtful words, you were never meant to hear them anyway.

You were meant to play into the role. Get strung along by Neteyam for Eywa knows how long. And to be cast aside when he chose someone else.

Turning on your heel you head back towards the village center. Tempat and Posma are there, waiting eagerly for Neteyam’s send off. 

“I am feeling unwell, perhaps some bad fruit at the cookfire last night.” Hastily, you thrust the furs from Neteyam’s kill into Posma’s arms, “Can one of you guide him today?”

Posma replies, a concerned glint in her eyes at your unusual behavior, “Of course! Go rest, you will not want to miss the celebration later.” 

Hours later after Neteyam has left on his journey Posma pokes her head into your kelku. She spots you curled up on your bed of furs and pelts, submerged to the point that she only notices from the uneven lump.

“I had Tempat lead Neteyam.”

You only glance at her from your heap. Eyes blinking slowly as acknowledgement. 

She sheds the furs that adorn her shoulders, then lifts the ones that rest on top of you. Climbing in and cradling your head to her chest she speaks again, “What has happened?”

“It does not matter.”

The rumble of laughter in her chest is comforting. If you closed your eyes and focused enough maybe it could lull you back to sleep.

“I think it does.” Her hand begins stroking through your braids, slightly scratching on their way down then smoothing again on the next pass. “You were very proud, very excited, to give Neteyam his furs.”

“He received them did he not?”

“He did. But he does not know the love and attention that was put into them.”

You lift your head, eyes meeting Posmas, “You did not sell me out?”

“Of course not! You are my tsmuke, blood or not, and he is just a boy.”

Your eyes begin to tear at that. If he would treat you so cruelly in private, while being so kind to your face, then he is just a boy. At some point, your few tears turn into sobs. The crashing weight of everything finally collapsing onto you. 

Your endless duties meant that you did not have time to form bonds outside of your few friends. That you did not have time to seek a mate, to ask for Eywa’s blessing. And it had seemed as if one was handed to you on a silver platter. 

Neteyam was well fit to be Olo’eyktan, he had spent his entire life training for it with the Omatikaya. And you had learned both the Olo’eyktan and Tsahik responsibilities – well prepared to lead on your own, or with someone standing by your side. 

He had listened. Had encouraged you to speak about your childhood eagerly, wanting to hear how the lesson for the day tied into Herwìslär culture. 

He made it a point to come and find you even after you had dismissed his siblings. You had thought it had been to spend time with you, under the guise of studying. 

Thought that his interest in your clans weaving techniques could have possibly meant him looking into your clans courting techniques.

Eywa. You even thought that some part of him deciding to complete the most dangerous rite was so that he could pick a mate in your people. That he could ask your father to court you and eventually take you as his mate.

Now you know that it all was so Lo’ak and Kiri could frolic around the village without you to guide them. 

Without you breathing down their necks, trying to ensure that they were completely set before you sent them off on their own.

But as you had thought earlier, the Sully kids did not need you anymore. You’re sure of it when your mother returns home and informs you of Neteyam returning with a txawuk. 

Good for him. Great for you. You could finally return to the way your life had been, to only completing your trainings and duties and spending your free time however you pleased.

You do not attend the gathering that night to celebrate Neteyam’s accomplishment. Still feigning illness.

You ignore the disappointment at not celebrating his achievement with him. However, it does not matter, the wound is still fresh. 

It remains fresh for weeks. You go from just avoiding Neteyam to no longer speaking to Kiri, even leaving your sessions with your mother when she decides to join. You avoid Lo’ak at all costs, his shouts of zusawkrr olo’eykte! go unanswered. When Tuk asks you to take her out for rides, you instead redirect her towards her siblings, and if they are busy you remind her that Posma or Tempat would take her if she truly desired to go.

Your new pattern is not difficult. In fact, you quite like it. Like the fact that you have time to focus on yourself again. That you can refocus on learning how to best lead your people.

Neteyam had expected you to guide him when he completed his last rite. That even if you said you could not interfere, that you could not catch him when he fell, that you would at least be there with him. Your presence enough to give him some calmness in his death-defying moment.

But you are not there when he arrives. Posma is there, Tempat too. They greet him excitedly, bestowing him a gift in the form of the furs of his first solo her’ang kill. 

It's only when Tempat ushers him forward that he questions where you are. Why they were leaving without his kayru. 

A sad smile graces their features when they tell him you are sick. That you went home to recover before the celebration that would be held in his honor tonight.

It gave him some peace. Knowing that you weren’t missing the event because you wanted to, but because of an illness. The peace fades as worry ebbs in, what had gotten you sick? It must have been bad if you couldn't at least see him off.

No matter, he could ask you all about it when he returned. Inquire about your illness, then talk your ear off about how the rite went. Afterwards he'd beg you to compare it to yours.

Always eager to learn about you. To learn about your people. To meld to your ways.

He wondered what age you were when you completed the rite. Who went with you? How many younglings were there to choose from? What drew you to the one you picked?

So many questions that he never got answers to. You never showed at the celebration. Lo'ak thought you just must have been missing each other; perfectly coasting around the gathering at exact opposite points. Neteyam knew better though. 

He saw Posma come by, share her joy for him, then stop and grab two food wraps before venturing off again. Neteyam would try to deny it, to refuse that she was bringing the second wrap for you, but he knew better.

Had you been consumed with your duties today? That wouldn't make sense, he was one of your duties so you should have been with him. But it would be fine, he would see you tomorrow and all would be well.

But then tomorrow comes and you do not greet the Sully children in the morning. Do not find them at their kelku, do not surprise them from behind as they meander towards the village center. There is nothing that even hints at your presence.

Neteyam’s able to find Tempat. Calling out to him and rushing to his side. “Is she still sick?”

Tempat smiles brightly at him, “Oh, no. You have completed your last rite, and your siblings are far enough that they can join the others their age!”

“So that is it?” 

Tempat nods, speaking something about them being able to do whatever they pleased when their duties were completed.

But Neteyam wanted to see you. That was what would please him. Yet he cannot seem to grasp a moment of your time.

It has now been a full moon cycle since Neteyam has spoken to you.

Something gnaws at his chest uncomfortably. He went from spending every moment with you, to now being lucky if he can catch a glimpse of your furs through the crowd.

Every hunt he attends, you miss. Every call of your name is ignored. Every trip Posma and Tempat take him and his siblings on, you do not attend.

He tries to sit near you at the cookfires, engage in your circle of friends. Anytime he gets close you politely excuse yourself, planting yourself firmly between your parents. He considers approaching, it may work in his favor. 

Your father had ordered you to speak to him and his siblings before, maybe it would be the same now. But he thinks back on how angry it had made you, how at first you only spent time with them because you were bound by duty to. He wanted you to talk with him because you wanted to; not because you were forced.

So he keeps trying his luck in other forms. 

He joins the women as they dry pelts and furs – ignores how when you see him you retreat.

He spends much time carving. Honing in on his ability to carve into bone, to make intricate patterns in it. 

He hunts and goes for flights, spending as much time as he's allowed away from the village. Trying to will his tropical skin to fade, for it to become well resistant to the cold of your home. 

After two moon cycles of not speaking with you he confronts Posma. 

“I just do not understand what happened. Did she really only tolerate our presence?” 

Posma purses her lips, “It is not like that.”

“Then what is it like? Please enlighten me.” Neteyam exasperates, he is tired of this.

“She is busy with her duties.”

“Do not patronize me. I see her spend time with the hunters, weavers, and carvers.” Neteyam huffs, biting his lip before continuing, “If we, if I, have done something I would like to apologize.”

“It is not my place to share if there is something to apologize for.” Posma crosses her arms, “Whatever answers you're looking for, I do not have.”

Neteyam nods, gnawing at his lip again. Posma moves to leave, assuming the conversation is over, but then he calls out to her again.

“Can you take us to the Hollow of S? Kiri would like to connect with Eywa.”

“You do not know the way?”

Neteyam allows a sheepish smile to grace his face, “We have only been once, and I do not wish to get lost.”

So Posma nods, tells him to meet her at the gates after their duties are done. Neteyam rushes to where Kiri is weaving, pleading with her to keep up his lie.

She had not asked to visit the Hollow. Had not complained and nagged her brother as he had made it seem, but she would not mind going. Naturally though, as a younger sibling, she needed to press.

“Why do you need to go?”

Netryam rolled his eyes, “It does not matter. Just do not expose me, alright?”

“It is for your little crush, isn't it?” Kiri laughs when Neteyam’s eyes widen a fraction, “What? Did you overhear that she would be there?”

“No. No, I did not. I just…” He huffs, unwilling to share something so deep when he is so unsure. But Kiri was not Lo'ak, she would not rat out his secret, “I just want to see if Eywa wills it.” 

At that Kiri stills, a grin overtaking her face. It has been a long time coming that her brother admitted his infatuation, so supposed she could keep up the lie for him.

It was clear along the Sullys that Neteyam had been taken with you since they had arrived. They noticed his staring, seeking you out in gatherings or meetings.

Tried to not tease him as he practiced traditional clan necessities of carving and weaving in his spare time.

His father was pleased. Not only was he adapting, but he was truly making it his home. Finding his home, in a place where they were safe.

His mother did not approve at first. It was not against you, it had absolutely nothing to do with you. She had hoped that they would return to her people, the Omatikaya, when the time was right. If Neteyam settled and built a life here, it would mean that she lost her firstborn.

She eventually came to terms with it. Her son would have to find a mate someday, why not be happy that it is someone so skilled? Someone held in high prestige and who reminded her much of herself when Jake had originally come to her people.

Kiri and Tuk were excited. Another sister was someone else to make adorable chest coverings for, someone else to share secrets with, someone else who could braid your hair in intricate patterns with pretty beads. Even if they ended up being able to go back to the Omatikaya, it only meant they had a secondary home here, with new friends, mounts and lifestyles.

Lo'ak liked you. Despite your temperament towards him and his family, you had been kind. You had stuck up for him when one of the warriors a little older than him called him a ‘half-breed’. A firm slap of your palm against the boys cheek paired with a hiss to ‘not disrespect your Olo'eyktan or Toruk Makto again’. 

From then on everyone knew it wasn't to be mentioned that they were related to even the idea of the sky people. It meant a lot to Lo'ak; his five fingers being something that even some Omatikaya people judged him for. 

He didn't mind that Neteyam had a thing for you. Hell, if anything he was shocked his brother liked someone so cold and cut off. But he slowly came to realize that his brother saw himself in you. That he found someone he could relate to, someone he could speak to of his pressures and they would know exactly how he felt.

One night after a particularly rough lesson, one that Lo'ak did not do well on, their dad asks you how they are progressing. You tell him that maybe Lo'ak could use a little bit more practice at the skill, maybe put some more focus into it, but other than that everyone did well.

That night Jake had called a family meeting. He laid into Lo'ak, as he frequently does, telling him he needed to do better. To focus more, and to wise up, before he ruined the uturu they had sought.

Lo'ak had stormed off, chest aching at his father's disappointment. But then the feeling turned angry, angry that his father never understood the stress he was under. Angry that no one stood up for him. 

Eventually it snowballs into anger at you. If you had never said anything, then this whole night would have never happened. So when Neteyam comes to comfort him Lo'ak asks him to warm you up a bit.

To get you to understand their struggle, specifically his, a bit more. Neteyam says no, that you do understand the struggles, and that it was just a stressful day for everyone.

So Lo'ak pushes a bit more. States that Neteyam is a ‘chicken’ as his dad would say, a coward for Na'vi. That he's refusing to warm you up because he's afraid you won't accept his advances.

Lo'ak doesn't think anything bad could come if it. Neteyam would get what he wanted, the rest of the family would be content with his choice.

Another advantage would be that hopefully some of Neteyam’s worrying would pass onto you, and allow him to get into some actual trouble with this new clan. To allow him to deepen the friendships he's made.

He pushes his older brother's buttons to the point of aggravation. Telling him it's okay big bro, we both know you couldn't get her anyway. And Neteyam's need to prove himself surfaces. He had already been trying to attract your view, what was the harm in helping out his baby bro?

And it had gone well for a while. He was slowly inching his way closer to you; aiding you in your duties after his lessons, sitting with you at the cookfires, helping you haul the kills in, sometimes even just bringing you a steaming beverage as you went over your Tsahik training. 

He truly believed that he was carving his way into your heart. Then right before his final rite, you dumped him and his siblings as if they were hot coals. Refusing to look at them, to speak to them, Eywa you barely acknowledged that they existed. 

So when Neteyam finally approaches the Hollow of Spirits he makes quickly towards the glowing ice stalactites. They’re cold, slippery to the touch, but from the moment Neteyam puts his fingers on one he can feel Eywa pulsing through them.

His opposite hand flies back, reaching for his kuru. He expects a jolt when he connects, for the iciness to freeze over his blood, but instead all he feels is warmth.

The Great Mother knows what he is here for and she confirms his beliefs. That you are the one for him. That you would come to your mantles well when the time came. 

A grin forces its way onto his face, an insurmountable amount of joy overcoming him. It was settled. He would craft the courting gift he had been thinking of for weeks now. 

It is one infused with both of your peoples. And when you see it, you will agree to courting him. Eywa has willed it after all. 

A few more days pass – Neteyam wanted the gift to be perfect. He briefly worries that him not approaching you may make you drift towards another. But his remembrance of Eywa's plans calms him. 

It is a beautiful necklace. 

When you wear it, it will sit right between your collarbones. He has used Omatikayan weaving patterns, but weaved Herwìslär beads on both sides. In the center rests a bead that he once wore in his hair, one that he searched hours for, wanting something the same shade as the outer edges of a tsawksyul. Finally, resting just below the bead he has weaved in a carving of bone, one shaped to be a tsawksyul; his favorite flower in the entire forest, one he hoped to show you one day. 

He tracks you down, pleased to see you’re sitting with Posma fiddling with your bowstring. He knows that Posma saw something in his demeanor change at the Hollow of Spirits, that she may even aid him in getting you to not be stubborn and to listen to him. 

“We must speak.” 

You glance up at him, before sliding your eyes to your friend. He must be speaking to her as he hasn’t had the chance to talk to you in weeks. When you stay silent he calls out your name, followed by a soft please.

“Will it be brief? I have much to do.” 

Neteyam’s lips purse in a tight smile, “I hope it does not.”

“Then speak, so it may move quickly.”

“I have thought of you for many moons – well, to be honest, since my family has arrived for uturu.” Eywa, Neteyam hopes you look at him at least once while he spills his guts, “You are like no one I have ever met. So similar to myself that I did not know how to handle it at first. I see you.”

You raise your head glancing at him with scrutiny swimming in your eyes. He does not mind the way you look at him, simply joyed at being able to look into your eyes finally, to restudy your features. So he continues, more sure now, “I’ve been taken by you; every thought is consumed by you. Every moment I have spent away from you was spent searching for you.” 

Neteyam ruffles through the satchel that rests under his furs, producing an intricately woven necklace, “I wish to court you. To eventually make you ma muntxate.” He presents the gift to you. His hands tremble a bit as he awaits your answer, even if Eywa has willed it he still has nerves.

You huff, turning your face away, leaning back into the bowstring you were previously toying with. “No.”

Neteyam is shocked. He had known you were not on the best of terms, even if he did not know why. But he was sure that the previous moments would be enough for you to at least be willing to try with him. 

He can see Posma is shocked too. Though he is not sure if it is from his admission, or yours.

“No?”

“I do not want it. If you wish to find a muntxate, I am sure that Selra is interested.”

“Selra? The singer?”

“Yes.” You nod along, “She tries to be discreet, but anyone can spot the way she looks at you over the cookfire.”

“I do not want Selra. We have not even had a conversation.” Neteyam refuses to bring his hands back, to allow your rejection of his courting, “I only desire you.”

“Ei’wen is also a good choice.” 

“I do not want–”

“She is a hunter. Assuming that is one of the similarities you see between yourself and I.”

Posma's eyes have not stopped darting between the two of you. She obviously should not be here for this conversation, all it does is make her curious over what she has missed, at what lead to this point in your relationship.

“I do not want them. I want you.” He once again jostles the jewelry in his palm, “I have come here to ask you, only after consulting with Eywa. The Great Mother has told me we are destined, you must believe me.”

You scoff, “I do not have to believe any words that spill from your tongue. You have spoken lies before to achieve what you want, there is nothing stopping you from doing so again.”

Neteyam has no idea what you are talking about. He has never lied to you before, never done anything deceitful to you. But before he can confess this you are up, snatching your bow from where you had rested it, and beginning to storm away from him.

When he moves to follow, to chase you down and prove his point, Posma presses a hand into his chest, halting his movement. He does not allow this to deter him, instead shouting after you, “Ask Eywa yourself! At the Hollow of Spirits, as I had! She will tell you the same thing she has told me!”

Your pace quickened after the words spilled past his lips. He never gets a response but he knows you heard him. Knows that it will fester and nag at your brain until you go to check yourself, so he turns to Posma.

“May I ask a favor?”

The hand on his chest retracts until just a single finger rests above his heart, “You are on thin ice. You do not get to ask for a favor.”

“I just wish to know if she listens. If she travels to the Hollow.”

Posma does not grant him an answer. She simply pushes into his chest with her finger and heads in the direction you went. Neteyam is uncertain that she will tell him, uncertain that you would even head remotely in the direction of the Hollows anytime soon. But he still had faith that Eywa was correct, that she had not led him astray.

Another week passes languidly. He goes through the motions; hunting, foraging, spending time with his siblings and newfound friends. The only change from the past two months is that you now let your eyes linger on him.

It is not fond, an intense glare that almost leaves him shrinking in on himself. He is not afraid of you; has never been and will never be. So he takes it in stride, smiling when he meets your gaze, allowing his tail to swish a little with curiosity. 

He hopes one of these days that instead of staring, you would approach. Even if you do not, he will take any improvement in your acknowledgement of him. Would be pleased if you were to lash out at him, if it meant he got to hear your voice. 

A sort of limbo passes over him. He hopes you would not reject him. That you would accept his advances. If you did not it would be okay, he is unsure of how long it would take him to recover from such a loss, but he would figure it out. He just hopes that you drag out the time before telling him, that you allow him to live in the fantasy where you accept for a little while longer.

Neteyam is on his way to take Tuk for a ride on his herwanpalu when Posma stops him. “I did not tell you anything, do you understand?” 

Oh.

He nods, yes he understands. He’s been waiting for this moment. Tuk is ordered to find something else to do, to go find her friends or her other older siblings. After she is moving with purpose back towards the village he runs to call his herwanpalu.

He mimics the grunts and calls you taught him. It would be smart to adorn her in a saddle, to have some supplies if something went wrong, but Neteyam is moving to make it as quickly as possible. His fingers grip tight onto the fur in front of him, before commanding his mount to speed in your direction. He did not need to see the realization on your face. Did not need to be there as you disconnected your kuru from the stalactite. He simply needed to arrive before you left. 

He walks into the Hollow, breathless as if he had personally ran the entire way here. From the silence he half expects you to be gone. The hopeful half of him assumes that you are still connected, still speaking to Eywa and searching out answers.

So he crawls softly and thoughtfully through the cave, he doesn’t want to startle you out of your conversation if you are not yet done. He does not spot you and his face falls, assuming you left.

He moves to the mouth of the cave, disappointed that he missed what he considered to be the best opportunity to change your mind. Before he can step towards the more surface levels of the hollow a voice calls after him. 

“Why did you lie?” 

Ah. So you were here. 

He whips around, amber eyes scanning his surroundings. They hone in on your figure, lower legs dipping into the freezing water that some stalactites rest above.

“I would never lie to you. Can you be more specific?”

Neteyam is moving closer now, unintentionally blocking you in. You see it as intentional, that he wants to force a conversation that does not need to be had. He sees it as his body refusing to be away from you anymore, especially in such a sacred place. 

“I overheard you before your final rite. Lo’ak said that you had been ‘working’ me so that I would take it easier on you and your siblings during your lessons.”

He laughs a breath through his nose, “It was not like that.” 

You hiss in return. If he thinks you to be stupid, then you would leave. Before you can stand Neteyam grabs your hand, planting it underneath his against the floor. 

“Lo’ak is a skxawng, but he does know how to get under my skin.” His free hand lifts to direct your face towards his, “He said that I could not get you to become infatuated with me as I had with you, said that I was a fnawe’tu.”

Your eyes trace his furs, recognizing it as the same ones you crafted specially for him, “You are not a fnawe’tu.”

“I am not. And Lo’ak knew I would be eager to prove him wrong, he simply wanted to get under my skin one last time before I came into my own in this clan.”

You begin to think it over. Lo’ak had always been teasing, always the one to try and use comedy even in situations they did not belong in. He was not cruel, simply wanting to find his place.

“What were you doing outside our kelku?”

“I came to deliver the furs from your first solo kill, as a final good luck.”

He smiles widely at you, “These are from you?”

You nod in agreement, not able to trust your voice. 

The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes after that. Neteyam does not want to overwhelm you, and you have too much going on in your head to formulate a proper thought.

At some point you speak again, softly as to not disturb the peace the two of you have entered. “Do you still have the necklace?”

“Of course.” Neteyam begins digging into his furs, when he procures the necklace you stare at it longingly.

“I lied.” When his brow furrows in confusion you continue. “When I said I did not want it? I had lied, it is one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen a Na’vi create.”

“Then may I put it on the most beautiful Na’vi I have ever seen?”

Neteyam moves quickly when you agree. His fingers move deftly as he ties the necklace into place. Then he allows them to ghost down the weave, tracing over the beads before stopping to rest upon the centerpiece.

He nods in approval, eyes meeting yours when he glances up. A new emotion swims in them, one of hunger, of desire; something he has not seen you allow yourself to indulge in before. 

Oh Eywa, he had been waiting for this. If you wanted him, he would allow you to devour him whole. Send his spirit back to the ancestors and he would thank you. 

Instead he forces himself to hold his composure, allows his fingers to ghost back up your neck. Curves his palm so it rests on the back of your neck, thumb lightly caressing your jaw. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, subconsciously pursing them as you stare at his. 

So he takes the lead, lightly pressing his lips to yours. Neteyam soon finds that this is not enough, that after so many months of not being able to have you that it would take him forever to satiate the heat that began to pool in his stomach. 

You lick into his mouth and he realizes you must be just as hungry as he is. He does not fight you, allows you to have dominance, to take what you want with no resistance. It’s only when you pull back for breath that he revolts, hands moving to lift you to rest in his lap.

It gives him more places to put his hands, and makes it easier for you to take whatever you want. When you pull away again Neteyam chases, he knows that you’re not pulling away for air and he does not wish to halt.

“This is…” You’re huffing, needing to catch all the breaths that Neteyam stole from you, “We are moving fast.”

“We moved slow for many months.” When your brow creases in protest, he allows his thumbs to rub soothing circles into your waist where they’ve snuck under your fur, “But if you wish, we can continue to take it slow.”

You do not wish to take it slow. But you are still apprehensive with what he said about Lo’ak. If he was lying to you, and he really was playing you in the beginning you aren’t sure if you would be able to recover emotionally. 

Sensing your turmoil, Neteyam nuzzles his nose against yours, “What is it yawne?”

“I just worry that you are still playing me. That I am embarrassing myself with my actions.”

He smiles at you lovingly, “I am not. I have never been. But we can go ask Lo’ak if you would like to quell your worries.”

You do not respond, weighing your options. You could ask Lo’ak, could confront him and ask why he did not just speak to you directly. But if it was truly as Neteyam said it would only embarrass you. You’re shocked out of your stupor when pink, glowing tendrils emerge in front of your eyes.

“Or, because we both know you would not trust his words on a situation as serious as this anyway, I can prove it to you now.”

“We cannot take back tsaheylu, Neteyam. Be serious.”

He does not lower his kuru at your words, “I am being serious. What did Eywa show you?”

“That she has willed us to be together. It has been fated since we were children.”

He smiles, Eywa had shown him similar visions. “So why delay if it will happen eventually?”

Neteyam had a point. Your father may skin you, your mother would be disappointed that there were no pre-mating ceremonies completed. But if Eywa willed it to happen, and the two of you were ready, would it really be harmful?

Your hand reaches behind you to grasp your kuru, “You are sure?”

“I have never been more sure.”

So you press your kuru forward, allowing the tendrils to entangle themselves with his. 

Your pupils blow wide. The emotions bombard you like something you’ve never felt before, the feeling overwhelming all of your senses. 

The love, the nervousness, the way he pined for you for months. The way he admires his parents, and adores his siblings. How he misses the Omatikaya forest, but has made your forest one of his own too. 

Feel his desire to take you flying on his ikran, for you to claim your own ikran. To show you his forest, share all his knowledge of it with you. How he wants to feed you the delicacies of his people, to watch you in just simple loincloths instead of heavy furs.

Then the memories flow through you, ones that are not your own. A bright lush forest, roaring rivers, snowless floating mountains. Little hands holding a newborn baby. Hands being directed to aim properly at a fish.

When you finally come back to your senses you’re huffing a bit, body working to compensate for the immense things your brain is being flooded with. When you realize Neteyam has come to himself too, you lurch forward.

It’s messy at first, your teeth clashing with his, fangs accidentally catching his lips. But then you can feel everything from his perspective. The tug of the fang, the way he briefly thinks about how he would not mind you sinking them into him on purpose. 

Suddenly you’re overwhelmed all over again. You allow Neteyam to roll you onto your back, allow him to take control. He licks into your mouth again, eager to experience this while connected to you.

You know there will be repercussions when the two of you arrive home. That there will be questions. Important talks between your parents and yourselves. But as Neteyam begins to kiss down the side of your face, to your jaw, and eventually your jugular you cannot find any will to care about the repercussions. 

When he lifts the carved bone from where it rests just beneath your collarbones, and presses a kiss to the spot, you believe you could face public humiliation for this and not be upset. It must pass through the bond, as shortly after Neteyam laughs against your ribs. 

Whatever conspires from there is just for the two of you to know and everyone else to question.

At least it was.

Almost exactly twelve months after your night in the Hollow you welcome your first child, and everyone is more than aware of what you got up to.

Translations (had to make some of these up by mashing words together from the na’vi dictionary, so not everything is 100% correct): Her’ang - Snow beast Herwanpalu - Snow feline Herwìslär clan - Snow cave clan Uturu - refugee/sanctuary Nume nìwin - Learn quickly Kelku - home Tewng - Loincloth Zusawkrr olo’eykte - Future clan leader Txawuk - Giant flying mount Tsmuke - Sister Kayru - Teacher Ma muntxate - My mate Tsawksyul - Sun lily Skxawng - Moron/Idiot Fnawe’tu - Coward Yawne - Beloved

a/n: i adore this fic so please be nice to it.. i loosely wanted to mirror inuit culuture, so a bunch of inspiration for the way that the na'vi of the clan acted or things that they wore were based off of that. i also adore the snow, and the cold, and everything to do with winter so i naturally had to put two obsessions together. i put pictures that i based the creatures on below.

fun fact: i wrote about 3-4k of the words for this while actively shoveling snow for about 8 hours :p

Dividers by @cafekitsune and @cursed-carmine

Likes/Comments/Reblogs give me butterflies ʚїɞ

You sneak through the ceiling, watching soldiers and crew members walk around, you keep your eye out for Spider. You spot soldiers turning the corner, escorting Spider between them, you signal to Neteyam and Lo’ak. 

You wait till they were under you to drop down, knocking one of them to the ground and pulling off their oxygen mask, Neteyam and Lo’ak follow after you, fighting the recoms and other soldiers. Once Spider realizes what’s happening, he kicks at a soldier and pulls off their mask. 

You hear gunshots and grab Spider and Lo’ak, pulling them to a wall, hiding you from the bullets. Neteyam grabs the gun from Lo’ak and started shooting from around the corner. “Go go go!” he yelled. 

Without thinking, your grab his hand and pull him along as you run and jump over the railing. Adrenaline pumping through your veins, you can hear your heart pounding in your chest as you hear the bullets flying past you. You hit the water and you almost gasp from the shock, still holding onto Neteyam’s hand, you resurface.  

“Come, quickly get on!” You hear Tsireya call from her ilu, you look over to your brother, seeing how he’s struggling in the water, fear bubbling in your throat. 

“Bro, Sis, c’mon!” You hear Lo’ak yell. All you can do is freeze as Neteyam struggles to breathe. “Go! Leav me” he gasps out “I am shot” 

Your ears start to ring as you look down, blood seeping through the water. Without a second thought you grab him and start pulling him towards the ilu, Lo’ak taking over and holding Neteyam on his back. As you move forward in the water, your head is jumbled, thoughts running through your head a mile a minute. 

Slowley you look up, one thought clear as day in your mind. You search his back, just the tiniest bit of relief floods your chest when you see a clear back. As you approach the rock, Jake runs up, assesing the situation. 

“He’s been shot” Spider yells, Jake jumps into action as they all carry him to stable ground. You watch the same bit of relief wash over Jake as he looks at Neteyam’s back, seeing a lack of exit wound. Your reathing is uneasy, but you jump into action to put pressure on Neteyam’s wound, just where his shoulder meets his chest.  

“Call Norm now” Jake orders Lo’ak before turning his attention to his son. “Hey we’re gonna get you all patched up ok?” He tries to steady his voice. Neteyam’s eyes flutter, darting from person to person. You hear Neytiri’s Ikran land and she’s in front of Neteyam, cradling his face in her hands. 

You can’t tear your eyes away from him, it feels like the whole world freezes when you make eye contact with him. You didn’t realize your hands were shaking until Ao’nung placed his over yours, breathing in as you tried to keep the pressure steady. 

“I want to go home” Neteyam’s voice was quiet, desperate. “We’re going home, we’re going home” Jake comforted, his voice cracking. You felt your brothers breathing become faint under you, you watched as his eyes started to flutter close.  

“Dad I-” His words died on the tip of his tongue, the light in his eyes draining. You could still feel his heartbeat, it was weak, but you felt it. “Nononono” You gasped, grabbing your father's hands and shoving them to his chest. “Do- do the thing!” You screamed, tears welling in your eyes as Neytiri started to cry out. 

“DO THE THING” Your throat hurt from the screech that left you, you moved your hands out from under Ao’nung’s and pinched Neteyam’s nose, lifting his chin up and leaning down to breathe into his mouth. You learned this move years ago; you didn’t know if it would actually work but you needed to try. You felt Jake start the compressions on his chest and pulled back, cradling your brother's face in your hands. 

You heard Lo’ak speaking into his throat mic, explaining the situation to Norm. Tears started to spill from your eyes as you leaned in to deliver the rescue breaths. You pulled back and started to heave, tears flowing from your eyes, gasping for air. You stumbled back to get out of the way as Neytiri took your place and Lo’ak started applying the pressure. 

Ao’nung wrapped his arms around you, pulling your head to his chest, taking deep breaths. Slowley you started to regulate your breathing, you looked back at the sinking ship and your blood froze. ‘Tuk and Kiri have been captured’ You remember Tsireya saying. Without another word you stood up and stalked to the edge of the rock, calling for your ilu. 

You ignored the calls for your name and jumped into the water, swimming to the ship. Your brother was in good hands, your sisters were not. 

You snuck onto the ship, hiding in corners before crawling back into the ceiling, not wanting to provoke any more soldiers. Except for the one that shot Neteyam. 

You slipped through the hallways, looking out for soldiers and your sisters. You lost your balance as the ship shook, the sound of an explosion ringing through your ears, the only explanation that came to mind was dad... 

You turned a corner and spotted Kiri and Tuk, relief flooding your chest when you saw they were unharmed. Without thinking, you ran to them, taking out your knife to free them from their binds. “Y/n!” Tuk called out, you watched her eyes move from you to behind you, before you could register the panic in her voice you were being yanked back.  

A tall avatar held you by your wrist, holding you in the air so you could barely stand on your toes. You cried out when he tightened his grip, a hiss escaping his lips. “Another one of his runts huh?” He grunted, he glanced between you and your sisters before placing a hand over your mouth and pulling you away. 

Jake crept through the ship, following Spiders directions until he came across Kiri and Tuk, the weight on his chest leaving as he stepped closer to them. “Dad!” Tuk called out, he smiled and pulled his knife out to cut her restraints. 

“They have Y/n!” Kiri explained as Jake cut her restraints, he looked up to her, freezing as panic took over again. Before he could say anything, Quaritch rounded the corner, holding a knife to your throat. Jake moved Kiri and Tuk behind him, holding his hands up. 

Your breathing sputtered as Quaritch pressed the knife closer to your throat. “Dad! Just go, please-” your voice cracked as Quaritch jostled you, hissing at your outburst. Jake sucked in a breath, watching your face contort in fear and pain. 

“Let her go, she has nothing to do with this.” He states. Quaritch chuckles, he pulls out a restraint from his pocket and tosses it to Jake “Bind yourself to that railing.” He nods to where Kiri and Tuk were kept. 

“Dad don’t do it!” You yelled, you got yourself into this mess, you can’t lose your dad because of it. Quaritch hissed again, driving the tip of his dagger into your neck. You froze, holding in your breaths.  

Jake bent down to pick up the restraints when Spider jumped out from the side. “Don’t hurt her!” He yelled, Quaritch barely spared him a glance. “Please don’t hurt her she’s my sister!” you felt Quaritch scoff. 

“Sister? She's not even the same species.” He sneered. Spider shook his head “She was an orphaned human like me, just please don’t hurt her-” He was cut off when Neytiri grabbed him, pressing a knife to his throat, mirroring Quaritch’s stance. He jolted, sucking in a breath. 

“Let her go, or I cut.” She seethed. You stared at your mother, you could feel the rage radiating off her, she kept her eyes on Quaritch. The man holding you puffed out his chest. “You think I care about him? He's not my son, we’re not even the same species” He states. 

You make eye contact with Spider, he shakes his head before you look to your mother. “Mom don’t hurt him!” You cry. She gaze doesn’t leave the Avatar behind you, her gaze darkens and she slices Spider’s chest. He cries out, you feel Quaritch flinch. 

Neytiri stares at Quaritch, he shakes his head. “a son for a son” Neytiri’s voice drips with venom, sending a shiver down your spine. you reach your hand out “MOM!” as she yells and brings her knife up, ready to attack Spider, you try to scream but before you can, the man is throwing you out several feet ahead of him. 

You stumble, Kiri and Tuk are at your side, pulling you away from the man and behind mom. Neytiri stares at him before letting Spider go, shoving him to the side where you and Kiri pull him towards you. You place a hand on his chest where the cut is before you and Kiri pull him in for a hug. 

“I owe you a life” Quaritch growls to your mother as Jake starts to herd you all away and into the water. You grab Tuk’s hand, but she reaches out for Neytiri. “Mom...” her voice is soft; it breaks your heart. 

“You’re not gonna leave are you Sully?” Quaritch asks, pulling Jakes attention. “I will hunt you down, kill every last one of your family, I will not stop” You stare at the man, the hairs on your neck standing up at his declaration. You don’t have time to blink before Jake is lunging at the man, pushing him far away from your family. 

“C’mon” You hear Kiri call, Neytiri grabs your hand and starts to lead you away when Tuk slips as the water starts to rush in. Your hold on her hand tightens as she gets pulled down into an open hatch, the water rising and pulling her down with it. “TUK!” You yell, her screams filinf you with dread, your adrenaline taking over. 

You feel her start to slip, so you let go of Neytiri to grab her forearm, you lean back but the ship shakes, making you lose balance, sending you both barreling down into the flooding hatch. As you hit the water, you pull Tuk closer and she latches onto you, legs wrapped around your stomach and arms around your neck. You gasp, wrapping your arms around her, keeping you both above the water. 

You feel a pair of arms grasp your shoulders; you look to see Neytiri leading you forward. “Mom!” you cry, stumbling forward, desperate to find and exit. “parultsyìp, come” she states breathlessly. 

You stumble through the ship hallways, holding Tuk close as your mother searches for an exit. The ship starts to turn, you scream as you almost fall but Neytiri keeps a tight grasp on your arm. Your limbs grow heavy, your legs and arms are sore, tears start to threaten your eyes as you can only go deeper into the demon ship. 

Neytiri pulls at a door, but the rising water shuts it every time, “Mom pull harder!” Tuk cries. You set her down, making sure she can hold herself up before you step in to help your mother pull the door. Your arms scream at you as you pull as hard as you can, but can only gasp, a cry escaping you as it slams closed again.  

Neytiri frantically looks around as Tuk swims into your arms again, you follow her as she swims in the only direction she can, It's only a few feet before you meet a dead end, the water filling up the hallway you were previously in. 

You purse your lips, holding Tuk’s head to your chest as Neytiri wraps her arms around you. “Mom what are we gonna do?” Tuk wails. Neytiri just rests her hand on Tuk’s head and looks around, whispering quiet comforts to her. 

“Sa’nu...” you whsiper, tears welling in your eyes. Neytiri whips her head to you, it was a phrase you had long since retired. “I’m sorry... I’m so sorry Sa’nu” your voice cracks. You don’t know what exactly you’re apologizing for, for failing to pull Tuk up, for being disobedient, for everything. 

She places a hand on your head and places her forehead on yours “maite, ma yuey maite...” she murmured, a sob escaping your lips. “I am sorry for being so hard on you, I am sorry for my harsh words” She places a kiss on your cheek “you are my daughter Y/n, my beautiful strong daughter.” 

A few tears escape your eyes, she leans down and kisses Tuk’s forehead, running her hand across the young girl's head. The water level was rising rapidly, you tried to stay calm, but fear coursed through your veins. 

Is this how you die? You hadn’t apologized to dad yet, Neteyam could be alive, and you had no idea what’s happening with Kiri Spider and Lo’ak.... You held your breath to resist the tears, determined to keep calm for your little sister and mother.  

You take Tuk’s hand and place it on your chest, taking deep breaths. Without question she follows, syncing her breathing with yours. You stare at eachother, breathing together for several moments. You’re about to speak when you see a faint light beaming through the darkened hallway. 

Slowley it grows brighter until a swarm of glowing squids flooded the hallway, it’s light illuminating your mother and sister face. A smile spread across your face as Tuk called out for her sister, spotting her rounding the corner. You dunked underwater as Neytiri stretched her arms and pulled Kiri close. 

You hugged her, a swarm of emotions flooding your chest. She removed the Txampaysye from her back and handed it to your mother “Here mom, this will help you breathe underwater” she whispered, turning to you and Tuk “Now deep breathes you two” and with that you held Tuk and Kiri’s hand as you guided your through the ship, the glowing squids illuminating your way.  

Slowly you made your way through the ship and up, resurfacing with a deep gasp for air. You relish in the cool air nipping at your face until Kiri tugs as you, pulling you towards the Tulkun that was heading your direction. 

Exhausted, you collapsed on the fin your family clung to, your father's hand gripping tight on your shoulder as you held Tuk under your arm. He moved his hand to cup your cheek, gazing deep into your eyes, he repeated the same phrase he said to Lo’ak. “I see you” he croaked, sore from the brawl he had with Quaritch “My beautiful daughter”. 

- 

The sun is bright, creeping into your Marui, the light making your eyes flutter open. You groan and roll on your side, desperate for a few more minutes of rest. You hear a chuckle and the arms around you tighten, bringing you closer to them. “Restless this morning my muntxate?” His voice is gruff and mellow. 

You hum, wrapping your arms around his neck and cuddling closer “Ao’nung my yawntu, my feet are especially sore this morning” you groaned. You smile into his neck before pushing him away and turning onto your stomach, arms holding you up. 

A wave of nausea passes over you, you seldom throw up during these episodes but Ao’nung still grabs a bowl and places in under your hanging head. He reaches over, rubbing your back and whispering swwt mothings into your ear. After a moment you groan and fall into his touch, he moved you to lay on your back and slides his arms under you and lift you up. 

“It is ok my Y/n” He struts out of the Marui and across the walkways “Tsireya and Mother will have a remedy for you” He assures, walking his old Marui. You hiss as your eyes burn, trying to open them and adjust to the morning light.  

You weakly pushed at his chest “Please I do not need to be coddles, I am not a child, I am with child” you reasoned, he chuckled and tightened his hold on you. 

He arrives at his destination quickly, greeting his mother before setting you down in one of the hammocks.  “Sa’nok, her pain and nausea has increased this morning” he calmly explains, smiling at your frowning face. 

“It is because your son will not let me sleep in or adjust to a more comfortable position in the night” You exclaim, sitting up as the Tsahik makes her way to you. Ao’nung rolls his eyes and pinches your cheek lightly, Ronal frowns and swats his hand away. Tsireya makes quick work of the herbs she had splayed out in front of her, already prepared for your morning visit. 

“Maitan I have raised you better than this, you pushed her too far yesterday now she is in pain” Ronal scolds her son, placing a hand on your forehead and handing you a ground up herb on a leaf. Ao’nung huffs, sitting down and holding your hand in his. “Mother you quite literally fought the demon ship 6 months pregnant, apologies of I'm not familiar with... this” he defended, motioning to your state at his last word. 

Ronal glared at him “I had already gone through two other pregnancies and was not recovering from säspxin!” She berated. Tsireya and you locked eyes, giggling at the scene. 

Ao’nung’s words brought you back to that day, how scared you were, how you watched your brother get shot, how it was the day you felt like you were officially accepted into the Sully family. Everything seemed to change after that. 

You remember how Ao’nung held you as you watched Norm and Max practically perform surgery on Neteyam, how tightly he squeezed your hand when they cauterized the wound. How you stayed by his side, worried sick for days as he recovered.  

You and Ao’nung continued to see each other, now with your parents proudly supporting you. Ronal wasn’t thrilled but she saw your spirit during the battle, she listened closely to the stories Neytiri and Ao’nung recited about your bravery. She didn’t approve, but she no longer objected. 

It was a while until she warmed up to you, she now treated and spoke of you as if you were her own child. It took you many months of sticking by Ao’nung’s side and insisting on learning from the Tsahik to earn her blessing for him to officially court you, slowly she started inviting you to family dinners and occasions more often, keeping you close by her side in deep conversation. You still remember the proud smile she wore when you and Ao’nung announced you were mated before Eywa. 

“Y/n do not worry, your discomfort will subside once you enter the coming stages” Tsireya hums, putting you at ease. Ronal places her hand on your stomach, closing her eyes and humming, she moves her hand along in familiar patterns before pulling away. 

“Your baby is strong” She states, a small smile gracing her lips. You look to Ao’nung, grinning sheepishly. 

You and Ao’nung waited a few years after mating to have children, wanting to enjoy being together before starting a family. It wasn’t long after you mated that you and Ao’nung decided to leave the reef and explore Pandora. It was hard to leave your family, but you kept in contact with your communication devices. You called often, Tuk always begging to hear your voice.

The day you left, Ronal and Neytiri gifted you both a songcord of your presence in the family in clan, it told stories of your lives and how they wove together, leading into your place and establishment in the clan and family. It was a reminder of how the Metkayina are your home while you traveled. It was unfinished, meant to record your travels together until you came back. 

You and Ao’nung sang the song almost every night, adding beads and bits of the places you visited as you went. You traveled for three and a half years before coming back home just in time for you and Neteyam’s 22nd birthday.  

You told them of your travels, the people you met and the places you saw. It was unorthodox to say the least, many clans were hesitant to teach you their ways while you were there, knowing your stay was temporary. But by the time for you to continue on your way, many members would gift you with tools and beads to add to your songcord. 

Living on the go with Ao’nung freed something you had craved to feel your entire life, it was a type of freedom, adventure, that you wanted to experience with only him. He was new to the change but kept the promise he made to you all those years ago. As long as you were by his side, he was content with wherever he was. Your home was not a place, but wherever you were with him. 

You slept in his arms every night, you danced with him whenever you sang, you loved him every moment. There wasn’t a moment you decided you were done with your travels, you just tied up the songcord one night once you and Ao’nung were done singing the part Neytiri and Ronal made. There weren’t any words, you both felt it in your hearts, Eywa wanted your home to finally find itself back to the reef. 

- 

Neytiri ran her hand across your stomach, humming as Tuk played with your hair. Neteyam sat in front of you, carefully placing his hand on your stomach that had grown over the months. You look up to him, smiling as he seemed entranced by the life growing in your stomach. 

In the months following the fight with the demon ship you and Neteyam had been practically attached at the hip, his supposed ‘twin telepathy’ kicking into full gear. He’d miraculously show up every time you and Ao’nung were having a moment, wether you were in a Marui of on the mountain, he’d show up ready to pull Ao’nung by the ears and tease you about it for days. 

You always seemed to know when his bandages and ointment needed to be changed, or what he was craving. Mother would ask what you all wanted for dinner, you’d answer “____ for Neteyam” just as he aswered the same thing, a grin spreading across both your faces as Lo’ak would look at you both in horror. It honestly started to freak your family out, especially when it would randomly resurface every now and then years later. 

Like a few months ago when you woke up feeling nauseous. You blamed it on the sickness you had yet to recover from, but when Neteyam stopped by, he insisted that you visit the Tsahik, ready to drag you by your leg if it he had to. And low and behold, on top of your sickness, you were pregnant. 

“Sister” Neteyam’s words snapped you out of your thoughts “are you feeling ok?” He questions, eyebrows furrowing, his hand coming up to feel your forehead, this caught Neytiri’s attention. 

“Y/n are you unwell again?” she asks, a frown forming on her face. You shook your head “No no I am fine, I promise” You assured, knowing they would make a fuss if you did not pacify their concerns. They study you for a moment before assuming their previous positions. 

You smile, nothing has changed, they are just as smothering when you are perfectly healthy as they are when you’re sick or pregnant.  

- 

You lay back into Ao’nung’s embrace as he rubs your stomach while holding a conversation with your brother, Lo’ak, about the hunting duties for the coming weeks. Usually you’d listen in, noting specific things you knew they’d most likely forget, but today you tune them out as you watch your father carve a toy knife. 

You giggle as you watch him struggle with the handle of the wood, a frown etching deep into his face. You hadn’t realized how quiet you had been until the room went silent at your ‘sudden outburst’. Jake looks to you, a smile quickly replacing his frown before he spoke. “Any names picked out yet?” 

You smile fondly, hand going to your stomach. “I like the name Ayän for a boy” you drawl, looking back to Ao’nung as he rolls his eyes. “You are so sure of yourself” he states, poking at your cheek. 

You grin “I haven’t even finished what I was saying, what are you talking about?” you tease, hand coming to your chest to act offended. 

“Jakesully your daughter insists that we are having a boy” Ao’nung explains, exasperated “And she refuses to let my mother confirm her suspicions” he wraps his arms around you, hand under your stomach. 

You throw a hand in the air, waving at his face. “I do not need the Tsahik to confirm what I already know.” You state, you can feel his sigh as he rolls his eyes again. You place your hand over his and look back to him. “And what do you think our baby is?”  

You watch as he bites his lips and looks to Lo’ak, his head falls back with a groan of defeat before he answers. “I think it is a boy...” he says in a murmur, you smile and look to your father with a look of satisfaction. “But that does not mean I agree with your stubborn ego” Ao’nung adds. 

Lo’ak laughs, reaching over and fist bumping you. You freeze, feeling your baby kick at your stomach ever so lightly. You look to Jake, reaching out for him. Without hesitation, he leaves his spot to take your hand and be at your side. You take his hand and rest it on your stomach, he smiles but after a moment he snaps his head to your stomach. 

Every time you were able to feel the baby kick, Jake was either not around or didn’t feel it in time. Practically everyone had felt the baby, Neteyam and Kiri having felt the most kicks aside from you and Ao’nung. Even Tonowari had felt the kicks many times, always engulfing your entire stomach in his hands and giving you a kiss on your forehead. 

You smile at him as he leans in close, placing his ear against your stomach. Lo’ak grins, scrambling forward. “Are they kicking?!” he asked excited. Aside from Jake, Lo’ak had felt the least amount of kicks. He reached forward to feel the baby, but Jake smacks his hand away, “Hey this is my moment” he hisses. Lo’ak frowns, protesting Jake’s gatekeeping. 

Jake pushes him back by his forehead and turns back to your stomach. “Hey buddy, it’s me, Grandpa Jake” he whispers. You hold back a laugh at Jake’s words and Lo’ak’s pouts. You grunt as your baby kicks again, Jakes eye widening and looking to you with pure joy. 

You purse your lips as the baby kicks especially hard, you grab Ao’nung’s arm. “This is all your fault Yawntu” you hiss “This baby has your persistence!”  

“I believe it is your stubbornness our child has inherited” He chuckles, massaging your hand. Jake chuckles, placing a hand on Ao’nung’s shoulder.  

“Y/n never caused trouble but she was hard to keep track of, scurrying around and slipping away any chance she got” Jake tells, you roll your eyes. Lo’ak laughs “And she has not changed! Remember when she was angry at Kiri for giving away her favorite spot to sneak off to, so she left, and we finally found her in the storage hammock under out Marui after two days?!” Lo’ak cackles, throwing his head back. 

Ao’nung laughs under you, Jake grins, ruffling your hair “My beautiful daughter, giving me a heart attack must be your life purpose” he teases, placing a kiss on your forehead “But I would not change it for anything” he whispers, you roll your eyes but return his gesture, a smile creeping onto your lips. 

- 

You were right, you gave birth to a son only minutes after eclipse ended. Kiri, Tsireya, and Ronal all guided the birth, checking your state and watching over your son as he took his first breaths. You lay on the shore, submerged up to your chest in the water. The clan surrounded you, joined as one as you lay on Ao’nung’s chest and Tsireya hands you your baby. 

Neytiri and Neteyam, who you had been holding onto, let go of your hands to let you hold your son. You gasped as you looked down at him, tears pricking your eyes, a smile spreading across your face. Only what can be described as pure joy envlopes your heart. You admired your son, memorizing every part of him, how he has turquoise skin and deep blue stripes rippling across his body, his hands twitching as he whines. Wrapping his arms around you, Ao’nung rested his head on your shoulder and traced his sons stripes with his fingers.  

“Ayän” you whsiper, Ao’nung kisses your neck before pulling back and addressing the clan. “Ayän!” He bellows, and the clan follows, chanting your sons name. You look back to Ao’nung, love filling your chest.  

- 

Tuk adores your son, taking great pride in her nephew, fighting with Neytiri and Lo’ak over who gets to babysit him. The young girl found herself spending most of her time in your Marui, wether your son was there or not, she just wanted to be around you.  

Neteyam, Spider, or Kiri would come to fetch her but end up spending dinner with you. You’d gossip and tell stories just like you did when you were children. Ao’nung was not used to having such a busy Marui, your family coming in and out freely, but he saw how much you loved it and never complained.  

When you had your daughter Nayakäm, things only got busier, both your families fawning and doting over your daughter. While your son had ‘traded out’ you and your husband’s traits, your daughter had much more of a mix. Her skin was a dark turquoise, or a lighter blue, a mix. Her stripes were sharp like yours, but swirled the farther you went down her body. Ayän had a full paddle tail, Nayakäm had a paddle tail, but it wasn’t as thick as her brothers. 

Your son shared your 4 fingers, but your daughter only had an extra finger on her left hand, something only noticed by Spider weeks after her birth. It melted your heart every time you’d come home to see Ao’nung fiddling with your children’s hands, a smile spread across hs face. 

“I want our next one to look exactly like you” He once said as you dozed off to sleep. You thought for a moment before your eyes shot open. “Next one??” 

-

Ao'nung holds your hand, placing a flower between your fingers as you stare at him. It was a site you cherished, a site you saw everyday. he places a kiss on your lips, smiling as you giggle. All you can do is smile as he holds you in his arms, you take a deep breath, basking in his presence. You think about the life ahead of you, with him, with your family.

When your children are of age you may travel again, maybe that will wait because you choose to have more children. You hold his hand tight as he hums. It still amazes you how you swooned for this man, the same one who you fist fought in the first month of knowing him, the one you argues with relentlessly, the one who guided you with a trail of flowers through his journey of falling in love with you.

You pray that when you are with Eywa, you will be with him. No phrases of affection could describe the love you hold for him and your family.

But for now you will love and you will see.

The first time tsu'tey registered your scent, was when he happened to pass by jake's side. He was talking to one of those humans. But as soon as he walked by you, he stopped dead in his tracks. The scent he was smelling was something… amazing. He felt a shiver run down his spine, he couldn't understand where the smell was coming from. It wasn't until jake tapped him on the shoulder, and introduced them. Tsu'tey turns to look at you. You smiled warmly back at him, giving him the 'I see you' sign. Tsu'tey caught on a little too late, he was so immersed in the scent you were giving off that he barely listened to what Jake was saying. He couldn't believe that you were the carrier of that peculiar scent. From that day on, tsu'tey did everything he could to be by your side.

It got to the point that he didn't care about the comments they made, it was strange to see a man like tsu'tey behind a human. Always trying to help you, or try to talk to you even for a couple of seconds, he had to smell your scent at least once a day. He was becoming obsessed, and if his little obsession was not dying down. He began to notice how your scent became stronger when he was around you. It had to be that reason, because on one of the occasions he came to talk to you. You were talking to neytiri, and he could feel how your scent was the usual one. But as soon as neytiri left you alone, he could feel it getting more and more potent. He was going crazy and he knew it. It wasn't healthy, what he was creating for you. You were supposed to be a human, he wouldn't have to find you attractive or desirable…but here he is. If you asked him to kiss your feet he would do it, even if you asked him to kill someone and let him put his nose in your neck sweet spot for only 5 minutes or less, he would do it.

On the other hand, you were oblivious to this situation. You thought tsu'tey was very kind and gentlemanly. He was always helping you, and available to you. You liked the attention he gave you. Besides…tsu'tey was painfully handsome. You liked him from head to toe, you found him beautiful. And having him this close wasn't helping you much. But you enjoyed his company…there was just a nice friendship between the two of you.

That particular day, tsu'tey could smell your scent from far away, he could tell you were about 30 feet away from him. And he could recognize it was you, turning around to see you approaching him with a basket in your hands. “Hello!!!” you greet him, smiling at him. You were hurting his senses, because if it were up to him he would have already dragged you into his arms. You looked very pretty, in the traditional na'vi clothing. Tsu'tey scanned you up and down, laughing a little. “Do you like it? Neytiri gave me this outfit…she made it for me” you speak, taking a quick turn. “I'm surprised at how well it suits you “tsu'tey says, looking at you again. But now with more determination, the little clothing gave freedom to your scent to be released all over the place, he was getting nervous. “Yeah…she says I should wear more family stuff…you know, since jake is my brother and he is now…” you stop talking, when you notice that the man is barely paying attention to you. “Tsu'tey…are you okay?” you ask, waving your hand in his face. Snapping tsu'tey out of his stasis. He laughs nervously, settling more on his feet. “Yes, sorry. You were saying?” tsu'tey sees you laugh.

“I was going to ask you if you could help me pick some berries…the ones near the river. You know they're a little tall…and I need help” you speak, tsu'tey doesn't think for a second and goes to help you. Getting up from the ground, he starts walking towards the river. The walk from the village to the river was about 15 minutes. When you arrived you both decided that the best thing to do was to pick the berries that were on top of some branches, besides it was much more private for you. Your very presence in the clan could be a bit intimidating for some na'vi. And this was an area where they used to come frequently. Tsu'tey helped you up, placing his hands on your waist, to get you up easily. But not before bringing his face close to your back, sniffing you. Closing his eyes, enjoying your scent. It was a momentary thing, when you climb up the branch. “Are you coming?” you keep walking towards where the berries were. “Yes…I'm coming” tsu'tey swallows hard, trying to control himself.

Tsu'tey helps you for a while, picking the prettiest berries that were on the highest leaves. Sitting down to rest, and to watch you pick in the other corner. You turn and give him a smile. Tsu'tey smiles back. Aside from the fact that the man was obsessed with your essence, he liked the way you were. You were the opposite of your brother. You were calm and quiet. You didn't do risky things and avoided getting into trouble. Tsu'tey enjoyed your company, and he was sure you did too. He could feel it. “These berries are so sweet” you speak, approaching where tsu'tey was sitting. “Yes…and this is their best season” tsu'tey speaks, but is puzzled when you sit down in front of him. You sit in front of him, cross-legged. This new position makes your scent much stronger than at other times. Freezing in his seat, his eyes widen.

However, you keep talking as if nothing is wrong. You are placing the basket next to you, taking some berries to clean them. You can tell, you were the only one talking, tsu'tey might be silent, but he wasn't talking at all. You look up and you can see that he was different. He was looking at you seriously, his pupils were dilated, his posture was straight, his ears were up and so was his tail. You could notice that his breathing was agitated, and although his look seemed to be one of discomfort… you knew it was not. It was one more of lust, you could see how he was swallowing hard. “Tsu'tey?” you speak softly, getting her attention.

“What's wrong with you? Are you ok?” you ask, tsu'tey doesn't answer you, and keeps looking at you. Analyzing your whole body, your scent was ambushing him. It was too strong for him, too sweet. And now with your new outfit you were not helping him. “Why do you smell like that?” says tsu'tey in a serious tone. You grow more nervous, closing your legs out of instinct. The look on tsu'tey's face at this moment was intimidating, but not in the bad way. “I have a bad smell?” you begin to smell your hand, as you watch tsu'tey approach you. Placing his hands on the ground of the branch, leaning a little over you. To now be much closer to you. “Don't do it” tsu'tey places his hand on your knee, moving it to the side. Causing your legs to spread for him. You watch as he closes his eyes, and sighs deeply. Your heart wanted to pound out of your chest, he was getting so much closer to you. “You have a scent…delicious” tsu'tey moves over your body, getting closer to your neck. Pressing his nose to your neck, breathing deeply. Words didn't come out of your mouth, you were surprised tsu'tey didn't use to behave like this with you. Well with anyone…and now he was almost on top of you. Balancing on his hands, sniffing your neck.

Tsu'tey felt so out of control, it was like he couldn't control what he was doing. He was feeling anxious, he wanted to know where that scent that was driving him crazy was coming from. Slowly moving down as he sniffed your skin, down your chest until he reached your breasts. Breathing hard again, to continue, the only thing you could do was to stay still. -T-tsu” your voice is interrupted when you see that tsu'tey had already reached your lower belly, stopping for a moment. At this moment tsu'tey was crouched over you, very close to his goal. He gave you a quick glance, and if you had to be realistic his look was one of hunger. As if no one could stop him, though you didn't plan to. Tsu'tey wouldn't get that far, would he. It was then, when he decided to go a little lower. First you thought he was going to smell one of your thighs. But you were wrong, when he went down he parked his face completely in your clothed cunt.

...

...

Your eyes widen in surprise, as you feel him breathing much harder than before. In a quick movement you move your foot towards tsu'tey's face and kick him in the face. This makes him move away. “What the hell is wrong with you?” you yell at him, this is all taking you by surprise. You liked tsu'tey but no one has ever behaved like this before. “What's wrong? I'm just sniffing you” speaks tsu'tey caressing his face a little bit. “What for? And why are you sniffing me…there” you close your legs slowly, but you see how tsu'tey stops you. “Don't close your legs…this is where that rich smell is coming from” tsu'tey says, laughing playfully. “Oh my god, no no” you close your legs tightly. “You're talking about the smell of my parts?” you were more concerned now. “I'm talking about your whole scent, I've never smelled someone with this scent before. No na'vi woman has a scent like this…it's exciting” tsu'tey speaks a little excited. You had never seen him like this, he looked like someone else. He was still very close to you, now he had come completely over you. You were looking up, observing his whole body attitude.

“I have noticed that when I am close to you…or when I touch you” tsu'tey lowers his voice, raising his hand to now touch your thigh, caressing your exposed skin a little. “I can notice how the smell gets stronger…and I love that” tsu'tey lowers his face, moving closer to your face. You push him back, causing tsu'tey to sit back down. You were so embarrassed, tsu'tey was talking about the excitement you felt towards him, like it was nothing. You wanted to bury yourself alive, you were getting so nervous, you didn't know what to say or do to him. “Tsu'tey…but you must not approach him like that. You must ask” you looked down, tsu'tey was looking at you playfully. He is silent for a moment, seeing how you are a little nervous. Squeezing your legs together so nothing would come out. “So…could I smell you a little? “tsu'tey asks. You knew that the attitude tsutey was showing was something without mischief, something he wasn't doing on purpose. It was instinctive on his part.

“I don't know what to tell you…we barely know each other, and yes I really like you” you try to change what you just said but there was a lot going on right now. “I mean…we should wait, yeah?you know what I mean?” you try to make him understand you, it's not like you didn't want tsu'tey between your legs. But it was still too early for that. “Ok… but can I be closer to you?” asks tsu'tey again. You nod with your face, watching as he moves closer to now be literally glued next to you. His tail began to dig into your waist, and he kept looking at you.

In the beginning, his fixation is driven by aggravation and fury. After the destruction of Hometree, the People move as one to a spot just south of the Well of Souls and set up a temporary encampment there. When the humans that remain after the RDA have left his planet are invited by Jakesully to their new settlement to spend time with them in a show of tentative co-operation, Tsu’tey spends the whole time scowling in your direction. Jakesully had proven himself a good leader and has earned Tsu’tey’s respect, which is perhaps the only reason that he initially accepted the presence of these Sky People in their new home. Even with his reluctant acceptance, he meets the tiny demons with suspicion and hostility. You, especially.

You infuriate him. Too small, terribly soft and squishy, unable to hold a bow or wield a spear or do anything useful. You came here with the rest of the Sky People, but you are not a warrior like Jakesully. Instead you spend all of your time reading books and studying the plants of his planet. But you don’t even study them in any useful way! You sketch them and take notes, and make frequent exclamations about how wonderful it all is, but you don’t do anything useful, at least as far as Tsu’tey can see.

It had taken him a terribly long time to realise what was happening. 

In the beginning, his eyes had cut towards you with animosity and mistrust – your interest in the plant life and the world around you had seemed so odd after the destruction the rest of your people had caused, and he watched you intently for any signs that you meant to cause harm to the People. But those signs never come.

You were polite, interested in his culture, and awed by nature and Eywa all around. You even learned the language of the People, though admittedly with a heavy accent. It’s… more endearing than it should be.

It takes a while for him to realise that he’s watching you far more than he watches the other little demons that study his people. It gets even worse when you decide to practise your clumsy language skills with the clan – somehow, it leads to you targeting him. Not even his fiercest scowls seem to discourage your attempts to converse with him, and soon he finds himself honestly looking forward to seeing you, to speaking with you.

It is an illness. Some sort of infection that has taken hold in him since his injury in the war against the Sky People. That can be the only reason that he is more preoccupied with you than with the very real mating prospects he has among the People.

He has come to terms with it. At first, he kept his shameful little fixation to himself, but he’s never been the most subtle of men. Others soon notice the direction of his stares, the amount of time he spends with you, the way his ears flick and his tail coils whenever he’s around you. 

Everyone, it seems, except you.

“Hello, little demon,” He murmurs as he approaches you one afternoon, his tail coiled low around his ankles.

You’re sitting close to the edge of the forest, beside one of the large anìheyu plants. All your silly little notebooks are surrounding you, and though your head is ducked as you sketch its likeness in your book, you look up when you hear his voice.

You laugh at his customary greeting, as unbothered by his gruff demeanour as ever. He is grateful that you are not offended; he has never been good at being soft, though he tries.

“Hey, big guy.” You call back, a wide smile beginning to spread across your face. “What are you up to?”

Tsu’tey’s fingers twitch. Your face may be alien, but your features are not so dissimilar from that of the Na’vi. He finds you… attractive, in your own way, though it pains him a little to admit it.

“I wished to join in on the hunt today,” He murmurs as he comes to a stop in front of you, “But Mo’at has forbidden it.”

He is still recovering from his wounds, and he has found himself with an enormous amount of free time to spend; courtesy of Mo’at, who has been borderline vicious in her vehemence that he rests from his duties to heal. It stings his pride, but he respects the Tsa’hik too much to question her orders.

Your eyes drop to his battle scars, and he finds himself flexing subconsciously under your gaze.

“That’s probably fair, right?” You ask, tilting your head. “You’re still healing-”

“I am still strong.” He interrupts, a little more forcefully than he had intended to. It’s important that you know that.

You just smile, little white teeth poking out as you bite at your lower lip. “I know that.”

That pleases him, and he rolls his shoulders back before sinking down into a crouch in front of you. Your eyes dart from his face to his torso to his legs and then back up again, and he feels his stung pride inflate under the weight of your shy gaze.

“I will not join the rest of the warriors on their hunt,” He murmurs, his gaze resting on your face as he tries to read every expression that flickers across it, “But I still wish to go on a hunt of my own. You.. are welcome to join me.”

You are difficult to read. You do not respond to his more coy flirtations; you never seem to notice when he communicates micro-expressions, his ears flicking back or the playful movements of his tail. And yet you perk up at his invitation, your eyes bright and interested as you carefully set your notes aside.

“Really?” You ask cautiously, your eyes flickering towards the longbow resting across his back.

When Tsu’tey just nods, you shove yourself to your feet with an eager little laugh. It feels like a weight is lifted off his shoulders at your acceptance of his offer – though he manages to keep his expression neutral, he can’t control the anticipatory little flick of his tail.

This is an opportunity he is eager to take advantage of; as he leads the way into the forest, he makes a point of keeping you in his sights at all times. You’re so small and useless, and it’s good to feel as though he can protect someone after his close brush with death.

Marching through the jungle is slow-going. You insist on stopping several times to peer at some of the plants that you’re curious about, and Tsu’tey just stands and waits each time. He wants to display his patience, though it’s admittedly never been one of his strongest virtues.

“Come, small one.” He says, his tail flicking impatiently even as he tries to accommodate your curiosity. Patience, he thinks to himself. 

“What is this?” You ask in your broken Na’vi, your accent heavy and clumsy.

Tsu’tey’s ears twitch. He likes the sound of your stupid accent more than he should.

“Utral utu mauti,” He murmurs, stepping closer to you before saying in his own accented English, “Type of fruit tree.”

You make a soft sound of understanding, before nodding. “I’ve read about these! They grow utumauti fruit, right?”

Tsu’tey hums confirmation, though he’s not looking at the plant. He’s too busy watching your face.

“Come,” He murmurs, “You will watch me hunt.”

The two of you continue on through the jungle. Tsu’tey tracks prints, and you watch him. He adds more flourishes to his tracking and stalking than are entirely necessary; he is hyper-conscious under your curious eyes. 

You are so much smaller than him, barely reaching his navel, so he keeps his pace slow and even to ensure you can keep up with him. 

When the two of you finally catch up to a wild yerik, luckily separated from the herd, Tsu’tey feels his heart beating eagerly in his chest. This is a chance to display his physical prowess. To prove that even injured, he is a fearsome warrior and hunter.

Your eyes are trained on him as he nocks an arrow and prepares to loose. Your gaze trails along his bicep and his chest, and he feels his pride flare all over again. When he looses the arrow, it finds its mark with ease.

He leaps from the cover of the trees and rushes to the fallen animal, snatching his knife from his waist and bending by the yerik’s head to murmur the customary words of thanks before ending the creature’s pain.

Cautiously, you step out after him and stare with wide eyes.

“Wow,” You murmur, stepping close to him. “It’s so big.”

The yerik is not so large or impressive as other prey, such as a talioang, yet your awe pleases Tsu’tey greatly. He can’t suppress the smug expression that grows across his face as he secures his prey with a rope to prepare to haul it back to the village. 

He pauses halfway through tying a knot around the yerik’s middle so that he can look up to you, a self-satisfied sort of lazy smirk curling around his mouth. “I told you I am still strong.”

A surprised laugh bursts out of your mouth, and you avert your eyes all of a sudden. You’re staring down at your feet, your fingers fidgeting together, but he can see that your mouth is smiling.

“Yes,” You say quietly, “Very strong.”

That night, Tsu’tey’s catch is prepared and roasted over the cook fire alongside the catch from the larger hunt. The village is alight with celebration – the People sing and dance, children running around screaming with laughter and younglings leaping about together. The light-natured atmosphere is infectious, and  Tsu’tey finds himself feeling more cautiously upbeat than he has in a while now.

“I should probably head back to the science outpost,” You mention at some point as the village fills with laughter and chat and the smell of succulent meat cooking. “I don’t want to intrude on-”

“Stay.” Tsu’tey interrupts without thinking.

You pause, obviously surprised. He’s been most outspoken about how the small demons should not be allowed to intrude upon the People’s customs or private rituals. No doubt you’re confused by his sudden change of heart – he can’t explain it himself.

But you agree, a tentative smile blooming across your face.

Tsu’tey is not oblivious to the glances that the two of you get as he settles next to you – you’ve chosen to sit a little bit away from the large fire around which the rest of the tribe gathers. No doubt you feel self-conscious of the fact that you don’t belong here, but Tsu’tey is feeling bold tonight. He is content as he settles next to you, despite the curious glances he receives from his People.

In his hands, he carries two portions of yerik meat from his kill wrapped in a leaf – it is a wholesome, healthy meal, and he hands a portion to you with a pleased flick of his tail.

You accept your portion politely, but he notices that you don’t immediately move to eat it. Instead, you spend a moment peering at it as though inspecting the meat carefully.

The longer you go without trying the food he has caught for you, the more antsy he becomes. He bites into his own dinner, casting frequent sideways glances your way as he chews. Was it not cooked to your taste? Did you not like the way it was wrapped in the leaf? Was it the meat itself that was the problem? Perhaps you didn’t even like yerik meat. Was this your way of turning him down?

“You do not like it?” He asks at last, unable to contain himself any longer.

You look up at that, apparently a little startled. “No! I mean, yes! I like it just fine!”

And yet, you haven’t touched it. 

Too late, Tsu’tey realises that you’re still wearing your strange face covering that you need to breathe. Ah, how foolish of him. You aren’t able to take it off to eat.

Embarrassed now, Tsu’tey feels his ears flatten back. It was an obvious oversight on his part, a stupid mistake. How could he not have anticipated this problem? Such a mistake makes him look inconsiderate.

“Ah. Your face covering-” He begins, but he doesn’t get the chance to finish.

“No big deal!” You blurt hastily, sitting up straighter. 

You’re so much smaller than him, dwarfed by his stature as you blink up at him. The size difference is going to Tsu’tey’s head – he can’t stop looking at the way your much smaller hands are wrapped around your food, at the way you’ve pressed a little closer to him.

He watches as you rip some of the meat out with your fingers, before taking a deep breath. You push the mask up for just a second, just long enough to push the food into your mouth before quickly reattaching the mask over your face again. Through the strange clear material protecting your face, Tsu’tey watches as you chew. The sight settles something inside of him, and some of the tension leaks out of his shoulders as he watches you eat his offering.

He’s not the only one watching you eat. The sight of him offering you food, and of you accepting it, has caught the attention of several members of the clan. The connotations are obvious, whether Tsu’tey chooses to think about them or not – if the sight of one of the clan’s foremost warriors participating in tentative courtship rituals with a Sky Person is shocking or disturbing in any way, they hide it well. It’s mainly surprised curiosity in the eyes of their observers.

“It’s good.” You murmur, sending him a quick smile. “The spices are different from anything I’m used to – it’s interesting.”

Tsu’tey’s tail lashes with gratification, satisfied with your acceptance of his advances. He should have known you would be interested in the spices used to cook the food, too. You’re such a curious little thing, always wanting to learn more. Your intelligence is commendable, and sets you apart from the rest of the tawtute.

You take another few bites of food, stuffing little handfuls under your mask quickly before replacing it back. Tsu’tey feels his chest puff the more you eat, his pride assuaged by the sight.

“You are hungry?” He asks, ducking his head a little closer to you. “You would like more?”

“No,” You murmur, but you give him a soft smile to soften your refusal. “Thank you. This is plenty.”

Tsu’tey settles back, his tail flicking in contentment. You may be a little demon that came from the sky, but having you sit huddled at his side eases the knot in his stomach that’s been present since his injury. He tries not to think too much about it.

A quick glance around shows that the eyes that had been watching them have shifted away, and he relaxes a little further. It’s mortifying enough to be offering such advances to a tawtute without the eyes of the clan watching.

You cough, and clear your throat. The sound draws his attention back to you, his eyes flickering carefully over your face. You appear a little flustered, and his brow draws down in a frown.

“What is wrong?” He asks carefully, narrowing his eyes as he watches you.

“Nothing.” You say hastily, but he sees the way you shift next to him. Your expression has changed a little, but he can’t quite interpret it. You lack the long ears and tail of the Na’vi, and so he finds it difficult to analyse your micro-expressions, but even still he can tell that something has changed.

“Tell me.” He demands, shifting to face you head on. “I will fix.”

You smile at him again, but this one seems more forced. It’s almost a grimace. Your hand moves to your stomach, and he follows the motion with a frown.

“It’s nothing, I just…” You wince. “It didn’t occur to me before, but.. I’m not sure how well humans can digest Pandoran meat.”

Tsu’tey’s frown only deepens. “I do not know this word. Digest. What does it mean?”

“It-” You begin, but you cut yourself off as an odd tremor moves across your face.

In a move that startles him into rearing back, you leap to your feet and make a run for the woods. It only takes a moment for Tsu’tey to recover from his surprise, and then he pushes himself up to his feet too. Ignoring the heads that have turned in his direction thanks to the commotion, he takes off after you.

It doesn’t take much effort to catch up to you, considering the difference in the size of your legs. You’ve only just managed to reach the treeline before falling to your knees, and by the time he catches up to you, you’ve torn your breathing mask off to allow you to retch into the vegetation.

Tsu’tey’s ears flick back, watching uneasily as you vomit. He has never been very good at providing comfort, but he reaches out to touch your shoulder all the same.

You retch again, then fumble to put your mask back on so you can breathe.

“Oh no, don’t look at me,” You practically wail, ducking your head down so he can’t see your face. “This is so humiliating.”

“What is wrong?” Tsu’tey asks insistently, lowering himself to crouch beside you as his tail twitches anxiously. “I will call for Mo’at-”

“Don’t you dare!” You gasp, reaching back blindly to grab at him even as you gag again. 

Tsu’tey bares his teeth in frustration, growing increasingly more restless. He hates feeling helpless, and he doesn’t understand what is happening with you. “You are sick.”

“No,” You gasp. The worst of the gagging seems to be over, and you push yourself back to sit clumsily on your behind. “No, it was just… I don’t think Pandoran food is compatible with human digestive systems.”

His tail flicks again as he watches you, growing uneasy. “What does this mean?”

“I can’t eat the same food as you.” You say, before ducking your head and groaning a little as another wave of nausea hits you.

Tsu’tey goes still, watching you close your eyes and wince. The food he had provided you with has made you ill. Humiliation settles low in his stomach. So this is why you were reluctant to try it – you were unsure if it was safe for you to eat.

His attempt to impress you has ended up making you sick. The only thing that saves him from total disgrace is the fact that you’re very visibly flustered and apologetic about it.

“I’m sorry,” You insist, clearly mortified as you raise your head to squint at him through streaming eyes. “Really, it was very nice-!”

 His ears twitch low and his tail wrapped tightly around his leg in contrition. “I did not know-”

“I know you didn’t,” You interrupt hastily. It’s clear that you feel thoroughly embarrassed about the situation – you can hardly meet his eyes. “Please, don’t worry about it.”

Your reassurance helps, but only slightly. He still feels entirely humiliated, and he watches with dismay as you finally push yourself to your feet.

“I think,” You begin without making eye contact, “That I should probably get back to the outpost.”

His stomach plummets, and his pride with it. This has gone so terribly wrong. He’s not even really sure what he was trying to do here – what was he even thinking? 

“Yes.” He says stiffly. “You should.”

Your expression shifts a little, and you nod. The air between you both has changed slightly; gone was the easy camaraderie that you have both worked so hard on for the past few months, to be replaced with an awkward tension.

“I’m sorry,” You say again, your voice low and embarrassed. “I.. the meat was very nice. Thank you. I’m sorry about… you know.”

That… is slightly more promising. 

Tsu’tey stands, then reaches down to offer his hand to help you. For a moment, you just stare at his outstretched hand as though you can’t figure out what he’s doing. He draws on his patience, and is rewarded for it when you reach out and take his hand, allowing him to guide you back to your feet. Your palm is warm and dry against his, your hand so small and soft that he gets momentarily distracted.

You smile at him again, and finally this one seems more genuine, though it’s a little abashed. Tsu’tey’s ears flick towards you cautiously, testingly, and you keep smiling.The knot in his stomach loosens a little.

You were born to a soldier on Pandora, a Seargant who seemed unbothered by her pregnancy during her term. The RDA wasn’t progressive, not at all, but they weren’t so cruel (at least to their own race) that they’d force a pregnant woman into work. Your mother simply made the decision to keep working, no matter how unsafe it was.

After she gave birth to you, she seemed… inattentive at best. She took maternity leave for the required period of time and got back into the action once she was cleared, leaving you essentially alone. It wasn’t long after her redeployment that she was killed in action along with the rest of her squad. An unfortunate accident in the dangerous wilds of Pandora

So, motherless and unclaimed by a father, you were orphaned. Too young for Cryo, they let you stay. Your mother's room became yours and yours alone. 

Of course, the RDA base was no place for a child. Ill-equipped and non-accommodative. The higher-ups reasoned that you’d best be left to the scientists and doctors. They’d know how to take care of a kid best, right?

Of course, no one really paid much attention to you. Giving the minimum attention necessary to keep you alive, lest they carry the guilt of neglecting an infant to death.

Grace wasn’t sure what to think of you when you were put in her care. She was a scientist, not a babysitter. Her focus was on the Na’vi, their way of life, and the organisms living on Pandora. She didn’t have time to look after a kid.

You were shucked off onto some lower-level scientists and assistants. She didn’t hear much from you other than your crying, which was always met with swift confinement to your room with your current caretaker. 

Eventually, though, you became autonomous. You were quick, slippery, and curious. The ones in charge of you didn’t pay much attention, which led to you sneaking around. Once, finding your way into Grace's lab.

She found you at her desk, standing on her chair in only an ill-fitting t-shirt and diapers, leaning over and staring at the projection of various pictures she had up. 

Grace wasn’t cruel; she may not have wanted to be responsible for you, but she held the same fondness for kids that most did.

Carefully, she picked you up, sitting you in her lap, and asked you what you were doing.

“Pic!” Is all you blurted out, head turned around, and staring at her with your wide and curious eyes. Grace chuckled, nodding as she hummed and affirmed your babbles.

You spent the rest of that day in her hold, watching as she scrolled through the pictures and videos she had in the database, explaining, in the most child-friendly way, the ones you were interested in. 

Being just over a year old, you weren’t still in her lap. Wriggling around, grabbing at her and objects, even standing up in her lap and jumping up and down, which she swiftly stopped. Despite all this, Grace was patient with you. Perhaps it was your curiosity for Pandora that softened her, the fact that you were interested in something she’d devoted her life to researching. 

A new brain to fill, maybe.

So, you made frequent trips to the lab after that. Slipped past your caretakers and crawling into Grace or Max’s laps, whoever was available, and babbling on and on. You weren’t the center of attention or a priority, but you became somewhat of a soft spot for Grace and her fellow scientists. Not as much of a burden, anymore.

It wasn’t long before you started picking up on the Na’vi phrases being used, especially once you discovered the parts of the lab dedicated more towards the avatars and culture of the Na’vi. Grace, ever the enabler of your interest in Pandora, started speaking to you in almost strictly Na’vi.

Being so young, you picked up on it incredibly quickly, nearly at the same speed as English, which you’d only really started learning a month or two prior.

It was cute to them, having a little human baby babbling in Na’vi and focusing so intently on the fauna and flora you saw in catalogs. Some even joked that your bedtime book should be the one Grace wrote. 

They called you the LabRat around the base. A term of endearment, of course. Many knew about you, the loose kid on base who scurried around and spent almost as much time in the lab as the scientists. You were cute. But really, that’s all you were to them, a cute kid. 

But to Grace? Somewhere along the way, she grew more fond of you than she’d expected. She ate with you at breakfast, watching you messily eat out of the corner of her eye as she held conversations with the other scientists. You stuck to her side, only ever really leaving it when you wanted to be with Max or go to sleep. Even then, she often had to carry you to your room multiple times throughout the day when you fell asleep in her lap.

You spent a lot of time with Max, too. Whenever Grace was in her Avatar, which was often, you found yourself with him. He was always a little softer with you, having been more fond and sympathetic with you earlier on. 

He treated you more like a kid than most others. He didn’t really try to feed your curiosity with Pandora, instead focusing on the fact that you were a deprived orphan child. He was the most suited to take care of you, probably. 

At some point, you found your way into the Avatar lab, watching through the windows. No one really saw it coming, but you escaped. With your little mask that was slightly too big for your face, you ran out the door, gunning right for Grace’s Avatar. 

They didn’t really think you’d recognize her, but you did, and you wanted to see her. Of course, you were a little intimidated by her drastic change in appearance and height, but at this point, you knew about the Na’vi and Avatars, so you didn’t have much of a problem.

Grace, in her Avatar form, was perhaps even more loving towards you. Maybe it was the youth of the body, or the fact that she had her own internal favoritism for it, but she seemed happier. Something you picked up on quickly. 

You loved being outside. No longer were you content being cooped up in the lab, you wanted to see the forest! Of course, they weren’t exactly ok with the idea, but your crying eventually convinced them.

Grace decided to take you to the school. She’d made excellent progress with the Omaticaya through the school, maybe it would be good to start introducing some direct human contact… through you. And she figured it could be good for your development, meeting beings that weren’t just inattentive scientists and soldiers.

With your mask on and sporting your cutest clothes, Grace took you to the school. The Na’vi kids were unsure about you at first, with their adverse feelings about Skypeople, but eventually they opened up. 

You were small, so incredibly small. Even the young children had no problems holding and cradling you. You were cute in your own, human, way.

They were intrigued by the fact that your Na’vi was as good as your English. Granted, neither were particularly good, seeing as you were a toddler, but it's the fact that they were at the same level that they admired.

Sylwanin was especially interested in you, often taking you in her arms, cooing and coddling you. 

“Sa’nok, she’s so small!” She’d exclaim to Grace, who’d laugh in response.

“Well, she’s human. You’re probably at least 2 feet taller than my human body, and I’m an adult.” She leaned over Sylwanin, smiling down at the scene. “She’s just a youngin’, not even 2 years old.”

From then on, you were a regular addition to Grace’s school and a personal favorite of Sylwanin and Neytiri. The two sisters absolutely adored you. Cooing over you and your babbles, sitting you in between them or on one of their laps during the lessons.

Often, they’d sit in the back with you, giggling at your tiny body and antics, brushing your hair, or watching as you fiddled with whatever toy or objects you could get your hands on. 

Between your time in the lab and out at the school, you were the first human to be culturally raised Na’vi. It was fascinating to Grace. 

Tsu’tey was cautious of you at first, unsure of how to handle how small and frail you were. But out of everything, you were also incredibly persistent and curious. Somehow, you found yourself worming your way into Tsu’tey’s arms, waddling up to him and demanding he pick you up through body language.

Sylwanin found this utterly adorable, how you’d stand there and “Hmf!” until he reached down and picked you up. He didn’t really know how to hold you, hands tucked under your armpits, torso and legs dangling in the air, but you crawled your way around him, finding yourself sitting on his shoulders. Well, shoulder, to be exact. You could comfortably sit on one, granted it was with one of his hands on your legs to keep your balance while you grabbed onto his braids.

“Tey-Tey” “Wanin” and “Tiri” you called them, not really able to pronounce their full names. They, of course, didn’t care, cooing at the babble of nicknames you gave them. 

In turn, they started to call you “Syulì'ang”, a butterfly-like insect that was known for its characteristic claws that latched it onto whatever it landed on. A fitting nickname, they all thought. 

Their sweet Syulì'ang. Tsu’tey was more or less simply amused by you once he was comfortable. He wasn't as doting as Sylwanin or Neytiri or some of the others; he liked you, but it was more or less than he was entertained by you. 

Of course, that changed the more you stuck around. By the time you’d learned to walk well enough to walk to the school yourself, with Grace accompanying you, of course, he was always waiting by the doorway. He’d give a simple nod to Grace when the pair of you came into view, and he tried to remain stoic as you ran forward, your small body knocking into his tall legs and calling out his name, but Grace, and just about anyone else who really knew him, could see through it. 

You spent your developmental years at the school, growing up so quickly that the Na’vi kids didn’t know what to do. When they first met you, you could barely walk, and all you could really do was babble and string together words, but years passed, and you began holding conversations and moving around fairly fluidly. 

Of course, you were still small and babyish, still just a toddler, but toddlers grew and changed fast. 

You were like their baby sister. Tsmuke, they called you. To them, you were really no different from another Na’vi kid. You spoke fluently, you were young and saw the world in a manner that seemed to reflect their own cultural point of view, perhaps from your exposure to it. 

Grace couldn’t really place when she started to love you. Maybe it was when you first called her “Sa’nok”, copying the kids at the schoolhouse. Maybe it was when that transformed into “Sa’nu”, or when it became “mama” when back in the lab. Maybe it was that day you first caught her attention, having snuck into the lab and into her heart.

She never corrected you when you called her those things, even when she got odd stares from the others around when you did. They just didn’t get it. They were too wrapped up in their own world. And yeah, so was she, but at some point, you became a part of her world. 

She didn’t really think of herself as your parent, but she didn’t mind if you thought of her as one. She wasn’t really the nicest; she was definitely more of a ‘tough love’ kind of parental figure, but that wasn’t really all that bad. 

Pandora wasn’t suited for you. You weren’t supposed to be there, and it wasn’t a good place for you by any means. You weren’t given proper attention or affection, and when you were, it wasn't consistent. Grace and Max, and the Na’vi kids weren’t role model family figures, but they tried, and they loved you, no matter how… odd it was. 

At some point, you’d met Mo’at and Eytukan. Likely, they’d heard of you from their daughters and Tsu’tey. It was hard to tell what they thought of you, after all, they had their own reservations about the humans, only allowing the school to function due to Sylwanin's request. 

But they liked you enough. You were a kid, a toddler, innocent in what was being done to their planet. You didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of any prejudice they held towards the humans. You spoke the language and learned beside their children. You seemed to love the forest as if it were your own home.

Formally, you met Mo’at when you fell down and scraped yourself while running out of the school, being chased by Sylwanin. You cried, of course, but Sylwanin, as calm as ever, simply scooped you up and told Grace she was taking you to her mother to get fixed up, running off before she could object.

You watched the Tsahik in awe as she worked on you, rubbing a salve on your wounds, her jewelry and beadings clinking together as she did so. You watch her in silence, Sylwanin giggling at your entranced demeanor. At the end, climbing back into Sylwanin’s arms, you turned and told Mo’at she was magnificent. A big word for your age. 

Mo’at had to admit, you were a charming little kid. 

Neytiri was especially charmed by you, often taking you from anyone else's arms to hold you in hers. It became a running joke that she’d adopt and steal you away if she could. She never denied it.

You could always be found fiddling with her hair or necklaces, pulling at them or putting them in your mouth. Neytiri, despite not liking your actions, was patient with you, simply giggling as she pulled it from your grasp and pointed your attention elsewhere.

Some people on base started to voice complaints about you being out too much. Being gifted jewelry and pieces by Sylwanin and Neytiri, and one piece from Tsu’tey, you began dressing in them every day. 

Of course, the complaints went nowhere, being no more than off-hand comments made by people who had no role or responsibility in your upbringing. As loved as you were, you were still overlooked more often than not, just an orphan kid who wandered in and out of the base. Outside of Grace, Max, and a few other scientists, no one really cared.

You had your routine. Getting up, spending time with Max before running out with Grace to the school. The school was your favorite place, you often told Neytiri and Tsu’tey in giddy whispers. You felt free and loved. It was your place.

When Sylwanin stopped showing up, you were sad. You missed her. Really, she was your favorite. 

You didn’t understand why you stopped going to the school, why Grace started arguing with a bunch of the soldiers more often, and why you were no longer allowed outside of the base. You cried a lot, saying you wanted your Tsmuke’s and Tsmukan. You wanted to go to the school, you wanted to see Neytiri and Sylwanin and Tsu’tey and the others. 

You cried when a scientist, tired of your whining, told you they probably didn’t want to see you.

Grace had a hard time comforting you. She didn’t know what to say, struggling with her own grief and guilt in the whole situation. All she could do was hold you and tell you that things were going to be okay. 

It was a while before you stopped crying so much. You still whined about wanting to go outside, but you learned to stop when asked. You spent your nights fiddling with the gifts from Neytiri and Sylwanin, the jewelry they crafted for you, the toy Mo’at gifted you once, and the Ikran Tsu’tey carved for you out of wood. They were your most treasured pieces. 

You worked on your own gifts for them, on and off, through the two years you spent without them. 

You were six by the time Jake came around. You became attached to him very quickly. 

He’d just made it to base and was getting filled in by Norm. His introduction to Grace wasn’t going well, bordered by her hostility towards him being there in place of his brother. Before he could say anything else, you bounded into the room. 

“Sa'nu! sa'nu! 'ur 'upe oe run!” Mama! Mama! Look what I found! You yelled, stopping at her feet and shoving an insect you were cradling in your palm into her face. 

She glanced at the bug and tilted her head, raising a brow at you. “ Y/n, nga kame nga're ke tung wrrpa, ‘itetsyip.” You know you’re not allowed outside, little one.

You pouted, stomping your foot. “Oe ke wrrkä! tsal pamähem ne oe.” I didn't go out! It came to me. You insisted. Grace merely rolled her eyes with a grin as she ruffled your hair. 

Jake looked at Norm, confused, who translated a lazy “she’s showing her a bug.” for him. 

As if you just noticed their presence, you awkwardly glanced at the two, shyly shuffling behind Grace. Jake glanced between you and Grace before leaning in. 

“What’s that you got there?” He asked, smiling as he watched your facial expression change. Before he knew it, you were launched into a whole explanation about the bug. It's name, both scientific and Na’vi, and all the fun little characteristics you noticed and pointed out to him. 

It was easy to tell who you’re favorite was going to be among the newest science recruits. You became quick friends with the ex-Marine, demanding his attention whenever he wasn’t busy. 

You were an interesting little thing. Energetic as all could be, running around like you owned the place, switching between languages so casually as if they were one. Jake paid more attention to you in a week than most of the people on base had in your entire life. 

He’d come by your room, peaking in as you played with your toys or read a book you definitely didn’t actually understand. As soon as you noticed his presence, you’d abandon whatever it was you were doing to run to him, hoisting yourself up into his lap.

“What's up, little bug?” He’d say, smiling down at you as you went on and on about whatever it is you wanted to talk about. Most of it went right over his head, but he listened nonetheless. He got the memo pretty early on that you were essentially left to your own devices, only helped with the bare minimum by people who didn’t want to be responsible for you

So, he started being more attentive towards you. Call it fatherly instincts, he calls it common empathy. You didn’t have any plans or expectations for him, you weren’t disappointed in his presence in place of his brothers, you simply looked up at him with those wide and love-filled eyes. That was all he needed to become hooked. His little bug, he liked to call you.

To Norm, Jake had adapted a fatherly role scarily quickly. Of course, Norm thought you were cute, but he wasn’t really sure what to do with you. It puzzled him how well Jake was with you, for only knowing you for a few days. How you crawled into his lab during one of the briefings, obviously tired but wanting to be involved. 

The briefing was casual, so Jake wrapped his arms around you and cradled you, rocking you in his arms as he hummed a lullaby he’d grown up with on Earth.

It was the first time someone had sung you a lullaby, at least since you were a crying infant everyone was desperate to soothe. You fell asleep in his arms immediately. Grace only gave a passing glance and a chuckle, stating he was now on bedtime duty. 

And that he was. You were a stubborn kid when it came to bedtime, fighting your own sleep and exhaustion because you wanted to be where the attention was. You didn’t want to miss out on any of Grace or Max’s briefings or discoveries, no matter how dull they were, or the fact that they didn’t really happen after hours. Nevertheless, you were difficult to put to sleep. 

He was quickly called the Y/n Whisperer after he calmed you down from a tantrum and had you knocked out in bed within 10 minutes of you being told to go to sleep, an affair that often took at least half an hour and some strong bargaining. 

Jake was still reeling from it all. For him, he was still dealing with the fact that his brother was dead and he’d taken his place on a scientific mission on Pandora, whisked away from his dystopic life on Earth and given a brand new chance. It was dizzying, and now he had a kid attached to his leg. 

Call it what it was: whiplash. He doesn’t really understand why you liked him so much, why he was able to connect with you so well. Maybe it was because he was the first person to spare you a second glance in your entire life, a second glance you didn’t have to work and beg for. 

If given the chance, Jake was sure you two would be absolutely inseparable.

It was during dinner that things shifted. You were there for Jake's recounting of the events that transpired after he got chansed off by a Thanator. Through it all, all you heard was that he’d met Neytiri. 

Neytiri. Your Neytiri.

You missed her. You missed her so bad, and Jake got to see her. It had been two years, and you thought for sure there was no way you’d be able to see her again. But Jake saw her! He even went to the village, so he likely saw Tsu’tey, Mo’at, and Sylwanin! 

Seeing them was possible. That was the conclusion you came to. 

Tsu’tey was the one to find you the next day. You had snuck out, exopack secured on for the first time in nearly two years, and you set off. Your memory was hazy, and you hardly remembered your way through the forest.

Scratch that, you didn’t remember it at all. You got lost almost immediately, your excitement to see your friends slowly replaced with uncertainty and fear. You wandered through the woods, climbing across logs and rivers, becoming more and more sure that you weren’t going the right way…

Of course, you didn’t know what to do. No one could really blame you for how you started crying out, yelling for Neytiri, Tsu’tey, Sylwanin, Grace, whoever you thought could find you. 

It wasn’t until you heard the growl that you regretted your decision to be so loud. Nantang. They surrounded you, stalking and getting ready to pounce. All you could do was scream.

Tsu’tey found you, following the distant yelling for familiar names and then the high-pitched screams. He shot the Nantang, scaring off the others as he rode in on his pa’li. He was ready to shoot you, the human who had trespassed onto their land, but he paused. Arrow resting between his fingers, and breath hitched.

It was you.

He was quick, dismounting his direhorse and scooping you up in his arms, doing his best to soothe you with soft words as you cried and writhed in his hold. Blood was everywhere. He was horrified.

He acted on pure impulse. Jake. Jake probably knew you. He was also human, and he was an avatar- so he probably knew Grace- he had to get you to Jake.

So he rode on his direhorse as fast as he could, holding you tightly in his arms as you bled and bled and cried. Oh, how you cried, clinging to him and whimpering, he felt so helpless. Exactly like how he’d felt that day Sylwanin died in his arms at the school house. He couldn’t have that happen again. Not with you. Not with the small girl he’d grown so fond of. 

It was a blur, finding Jake and Neytiri, the morphing look of terror on their faces as they took in the sight of the girl in his arms and his disjointed explanation. It was a blur, and he was on his knees, Neytiri holding onto him as they both shook, taking in the situation as Jake ran off into the woods with you in his arms, pushing himself as fast as he could go. 

Jake was scared. You were such a sweet girl, and in the days he’d known you, he was hooked. You were small, petulant, stubborn, smart; you were a good kid. You were funny and fun to be around, and he liked you. He saw why Grace had such a soft spot for you, who wouldn’t?

But now you’re in his arms, bleeding, and Grace is gonna be horrified. 

He got you to the base, bursting through the doors, demanding a doctor, yelling you needed help because you were hurt and bleeding. You were small, hurt, bleeding, and it felt like you were at death's door.

You were swept out of his arms, and all you could do was whimper, reaching back out to the strong arms you felt safe in. They hooked you up to machines, tended to your wounds. They assured Jake and a just-arriving-frazzled Grace that you were gonna be fine. 

But the base wasn’t a hospital. Yeah, it was a military base, and those often come with medical centers, but it wasn’t good, especially not for a child. With how advanced they were, they weren’t well equipped.

You suffered for days, writhing and screaming in pain, tears only stopping once you ran out of them. 

Despite Grace and Max’s pleas and Jake's insistence towards Quaritch, you were essentially… ignored.

You were loved. But you were still just a bastard orphaned child; the RDA simply didn’t want to deal with you, especially with your seemingly growing allegiance to the Na’vi.

Of course, they did what they could to help you, but it was minimal. 

You were going to die, Grace and Jake were sure of it.

So, desperate, he went to Mo’at. He pleaded for her to help you. She didn’t need much convincing.

The night before Grace planned to move the operation to the Hallelujah Mountains, they snuck you out, careful to remove all your hook-ups to the machines. 

They took you to the village, breaking so many rules, desperate to help you. 

You were frail, withering away in his hold. The best he could do was whisper comforts as he carried you. 

Mo’at worked quickly, shooing them out of her tent as she worked on you. Salves, mixes, incense. She worked for hours. You were just a little kid; you had so much before you. She pleaded to the Great Mother to help you, even if you were a human she could barely reach. 

You were getting better, but it wasn’t enough. Something was wrong, very wrong, and she didn’t know what it was or how to help.

She pulled away, examining you with a hitched breath. Just as she went to move to grab another tool, something caught her attention. 

An Atokirina.

It floated in the air, pulsing until it wilted down to meet your skin. 

Mo’at’s eyes widened. 

“We must take her to the Tree of Souls.” She declared as she stepped out of her tent, the group that had gathered in front of it standing and moving in confusion.

They wanted to question it. Jake wanted to ask what was wrong, how you were doing, and if you’d live. All the words were on the tip of his tongue, but Grace grabbed his hand. She kept her gaze forward, at the tent, but she’d communicated enough.

Tsu’tey was the one to take you into his arms, lips pursed, and eyes gazing down at you in worry. For a moment, Jake wanted to be the one to hold you, but you curled into Tsu’teys arms so comfortably- so familiar, a moment of comfort and assurance when you were in so much pain.

Neytiri followed close behind, hand resting on your forehead as they walked, her eyes focused on your face scrunched in agony, your pinched brows and wavering lips. How she wanted to soothe you, to hold you, and kiss away the creases of pain in your face. 

You’d grown so much since they’d last seen you. You were still so small, but so much more grown. They had missed you so much, their grief compelled by the loss of two sisters. They nearly begged Mo’at and Eytukan to call off the ban on humans on their land, if only to see you.

And now, you were back in their arms, but by the force of necessity and desperation. Out of the fear of death. 

The clan, having roused at the commotion, made their way to the Tree of Souls with the group. They didn’t question their Tsahik’s care of the human child, many of them having heard the accounts of you and your kindred nature from the many children who’d attended the school.

Arriving at the Tree, Neytiri and Tsu’tey kept Grace and Jake at a distance, allowing Mo’at to prepare as the clan gathered around. They pulled Jake and Grace down to the ground with them, connecting their Kuru to the roots sticking up. They started to hum, moving as a group. 

With everything in them, they begged Eywa to help you.

You were human, yes, but they loved you. You were their sister. You were Grace's daughter, by love if not biology. You were a sweet kid, and they wanted- needed you to stay. 

“Allow this child to heal, Great Mother, allow her to heal and walk among us. To live, to feel your embrace.” Mo’at’s words echoed, her chants and pleas thrumming through the crowd. 

Placed at the base of the spirit tree, you lay there, wrapped in luminescent tendrils. They wrapped around your small body, seemingly consuming you as they grew. The light of the tendrils pulsed with your every breath, echoing across the tree like a ripple in water. 

You… you felt free. The tendrils were warm, encasing you in what felt like a mother's embrace. Your vision was blurred, but you saw.  You saw so much, all you could do was smile. You saw Sylwanin, every time you’d seen her, every word, every movement. She wrapped around you. You saw the sea, you saw the forest and the land. It was breathtaking.

Mo’at faltered, her chants falling off the tip of her tongue as she glanced down at you. At this, the ones who’d brought you here opened their eyes.

They didn’t know what to do. 

You were there, alive. More alive than you’d ever been, but they could feel that you were slipping away. 

Neytiri crawled towards you, Grace scrambling up and finding herself at your side. She took your hand in hers as Neytiri caressed your hair.

They knew it was a desperate attempt, taking you here, unlikely to work, but it hurt. They weren’t ready to let go. The humans weren’t going to help you. What else were they to do? 

Tears slid down Grace’s face as she watched you, your eyes glazed over as a smile crept onto your lips. 

“Y/n- Syulì'ang please-” Neytiri whispered, her voice cracking. She leaned down, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Stay” she begged

“Syulì'ang,” Tsu’tey choked out, pleading, biting back his words, and tears with them. “Be strong, stay with us.”

You heard their words. You wanted to reach up, to comfort them. Grace was right in front of you, and all you wanted was to reach up and wipe the tears off her face. 

Grace cried. Silent, of course. Tears slipping down her cheeks like arrows of fire burning their way through the air. They hurt like it. She wondered if they’d scar, if there would be a trail of scarred flesh down her cheeks when she was done. 

You were her child, at least, the closest she had to one. You were the best thing she’d had in a long time. And now, you were slipping away. Like the school, like Sylwanin, like Neytiri and Tsu’tey and the children who’d called her Sa’nok. You called her Sa’nu.

The grief was endless. A fountain pouring from Neytiri as she wept, hands shaking as she tried to fight the urge to take you into her arms. She’d seen you grow up, your words develop from babbles to sentences, your mind expand. She wore the bracelet you’d made for her. It was ill-fitting and poorly crafted, but she weaved it into her armband, careful to preserve its shape and structure. She meant to always have you with her, even if she couldn't physically. 

You were more than a child she saw as a sister; you could have been her child. A ridiculous notion, but she felt so strongly about you. She wanted to take you in, hold you close, and carry you as she did her chores and duties. She wanted to hunt and bring it home for you to eat till you were full. Perhaps, to her, you were an odd mixture of a sister and child, but that just meant she loved you all the more.

Her sweet Syulì'ang. She’d named you after the insect, a beautiful creature that fluttered around and gripped onto surfaces when it meant to. She wished and wished and wished that you'd stay, that you’d grip onto the ground and stay there with her. She did not like humans, but you? You, she loved.

So it hurt, watching as your eyes closed, feeling your pulse slow, have you die right in front of her, right in her reach. 

Your eyes, heavy, rose up to the sky. “Sa’nu, Tsmuke, Tsmukan, Jake-” Your words were quiet, strained, and heavy. But you spoke anyway, a warmth passing through your body. “Eywa, she’s” It was hard to speak. “She’s like the waves-” your breath released from your lips, cutting off your words.

The tendrils around you pulsed before they dulled, the light dimming across the Tree of Souls.

Jake could only hold Neytiri as she cried, his own tears falling as he felt his entire demeanor freeze.

They left you by the tree, something Grace opposed. But Mo’at had insisted it was Eywa’s wish. Jake and Grace weren’t happy, nor were Tsu’tey and Neytiri; they wanted to give you a proper burial, but they complied with their Tsahik’s declaration.

It was mere days later that Neytiri visited again, only to be met with an empty landscape. You were nowhere in sight, only an abundance of tendrils in your place, pulsing with light as Eywa breathed below them.

Ronal, for weeks, dreamed of a face. A human one. She’d never seen the girl before, unfamiliar with the face and voice she kept meeting in her dreams. It bothered her, being met so forcefully with a demon's face, but behind it, she felt the Great Mother's words. 

She couldn’t make sense of it; it drove her wild how she prayed and prayed, and all she was met with were new visions of the girl. With a newborn baby, she felt stretched thin. She confided in Tonowari about her dreams. He did what he could to comfort her, putting in effort to relieve her of as much stress as he could. 

Ronal prayed, seeking answers and clarity. What did the Great Mother want?

One night, she dreamed of the spirit tree, along with the girl. She dreamt of whispers, of a new face, of a young Metkayina child she held in her arms. 

She woke up in a cold sweat, right as dawn rose in the sky. 

She made her way through the village, mounting her tsurak, and traveled to the cove of the ancestors. She felt a weight in her chest as she arrived. She dove under, swimming through the featherlike branches as she made her way to the center of the tree. 

She reached forward, placing her palms on the branches wrapped tightly in on itself. Slowly, she unwrapped it, pulling it away from the other ‘leaves’ wrapped around. Once she got to the center, she pulled back.

An infant lay in the middle, wrapped in the leaves. Slowly, she pulled it out, taking it into her arms, she swam up. Breaching the surface, she looked down, watching as the baby breathed in the air. 

The first breath.

Ronal gazed down at the baby, brows pinched together as she took her in. Confusion was the least she could describe it as. 

A moment passed. Ronal mounted her tsurak, and she returned home.

Whispers surrounded her as she walked through the village, eyes following her and landing on the unknown infant in her embrace. In the mere minutes she’d had the baby, she felt an overwhelming sense of maternal instinct towards it. She reasoned she felt that way about most babies, but this was stronger.

She approached her Marui, Tonowari, meeting her at the entrance. He gazed down at her, then the baby, confusion panting his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out, stuck in the flurry of words he was trying to put together.

“The Great Mother brought her to me,” Ronal spoke, calm and melodic. “To us.” Tonowari gazed up at her. 

Words exchanged between them in complete silence. 

He nodded, stepping aside, allowing Ronal to enter the Marui. 

The two took to their daughter quickly, entranced by the baby given to them by Eywa. They were lost, confused by her appearance, but they didn’t question it. They simply placed her in the cradle with their other baby, Ao’nung, watching as they turned and curled to hold each other.

“You dreamt of her.” Tonowari’s voice broke the silence.

Ronal, attention on the baby's unwavering, nodded. “Last night, yes.”

He looked to his wife, tentative as he examined her facial expression. “And the others?” He questioned. 

There was a moment of silence, Ronal’s hand coming to rest on the edge of the cradle. 

“I do not care. She is my daughter. She is ours now.”

Tonowari stared at his wife before nodding, reaching down to cup his daughter's face in his hand. “And what is our daughter's name?” He spoke, already transfixed by the infant lying in the cradle he crafted by hand. 

Ronal tilted her head, watching the girl. After a moment, she gazed to Tonowar, their eyes meeting as a soft smile graced her lips.

“Syuli”

After your death, Jake’s loyalty to the RDA wavered. Grace had accepted her fate as a trapped scientist long ago, but Jake refused. He bonded with Neytiri and Tsu’tey quicker, earning the faith of the clan before he finished his Iknimaya. 

He saw it in black and white. The humans left you alone and to die, the Na’vi loved you as their own and wept at your death. His decision was clear-cut.

Still, his fast actions weren’t enough to prevent the events that led to Neytiri’s belief of his betrayal. Or the destruction of the home tree. Or the death of those he fought by.

By the end of the war, your death was followed by many others. Black stains on Jake’s heart. He mourned you, grieved for you. The devastation of the war was hard enough, but you? You weren’t even a casualty; you were a victim of the most unfortunate of circumstances. He replayed it in his head over and over again, each time wondering what he could have done to save you, to prevent your death. 

It drove him to the worst of his depths. A side of himself he hadn’t even seen when his brother died. 

The only thing keeping him afloat was Neytiri and the child that lay in her womb.

“She is with Grace now, my Jake, with the Great Mother.” Neytiri would say, burying her grief. Twice, she's lost you now. When Sylwanin died and her parents shut down their connections with the humans, she wept for not only her sister but for you. Would she never see you again? At least back then, she found comfort in the fact that you were safe and in Grace’s care. 

Perhaps you still were, in her arms, just as you are in the Great Mothers. But you’re not in hers. That’s what hurt. How you’d never grow up, forever stuck as the small child she knew and loved. 

Time passed, and she had Neteyam. Her sweet baby boy. She felt the cracks in her heart start to be stitched back together, only further healed when they took in Kiri. 

She saw it in Jake, too, how he took to his fatherly role immediately, perhaps better prepared after his time with you. Slowly but surely, they came to be okay again. 

Still, you burned in their hearts. As she wove her songcord, she pulled one of the beads from the bracelet you made her, as carefully as she could, and wove it in. 

A‘eveng, Y/n, ohe oamum 

Wamintxu fi oe, a syawn

a’atanur oe mameyam 

meyam ohe ngenga, tsalsungay pehrr lom

A child, Y/n, i knew

showed to me, a blessing

a light I held in my arms

I hold you, even when gone

It was hard to speak about you to the kids. They didn’t want to introduce the idea of someone dying at such a young age. They also still grieved you, struggling to accept your death. It wasn’t fair. You should be with them, growing up alongside their children. You would have been such a good big sister.

This hit Jake especially hard, knowing how you’d been excited to have another kid on base; Spider. You raved to him about how you were going to bring him to the lab all the time, what toys you’d give him, and how you wanted to teach him Na’vi and have him as a little brother. At least, the closest you could have to one.

So it was hard watching Spider do all that, grow up and learn Na’vi, come into his family and be seen by his kids as a fellow sibling, knowing it was everything you wanted. 

But years passed, and their family grew, and it grew strong. Their children knew of you in passing, in hushed breaths like how they spoke of Sylwanin and the others they’d loved that left them through such harsh tragedies. 

Neytiri and Jake didn’t want the children to wonder what it would have been like to have you in the family. It was already too painful for them to wonder themselves.

Their children grew, their personalities developed, and they came into their own. It was hard not to see you in each of them. Tuk’s curiosity, Lo’ak’s mischief, the softness in Kiri’s eyes, and how Neteyam was so thoughtful with his words. For all its hurt, it also gave them comfort. They’d continue to see you, even when you weren’t with them. 

Their grief became something mellow, something they could plant love and strength into.

But then the RDA came back. Like an old scar tearing apart, refusing to heal. Their lives turned upside down, and their healing came to a harsh halt, slowly stepping backwards against the blood and gunfire they stood in.

That eclipse, when the kids were in the hands of the recoms, Jake felt barbed wire wrapping around his throat. 

He heard their whines, their yelps of pain, and he almost lost them. He refused to risk it. Not again.

“He had our children. Had them under his knife.” He was scared, begging Neytiri to leave, to find a better place for them. He hadn’t been able to find one for you. He wouldn’t let that happen again. “Look, I got nothing… I've got no plan. But I can protect this family. That I can do.”

Neytiri heard the unsaid, seeing what he saw when he spoke. 

“But I do know one thing, wherever we go, this family is our fortress.” It was unintentional, his hands placed delicately on her shoulders, one slipping down, grazing the armband she’d woven with your bracelet in it.

They had to protect their children. 

The Travel to the Metkayina was difficult, tiring, laborious, and met with storms that raged against them. But they pushed through. They’ve pushed through worse; they’d do this for their family.

They landed on the beach, drawing the attention of the clan, who gathered around them in confusion and awe. They were nervous, holding themselves close together as they were gawked at and picked on by oncoming clan members.

Jake felt a sense of relief when Tonowari, an honorable man and the clan's Olo’eyktan, arrived at the scene, greeting them warmly and with a smile. He felt confident, with Tonowari on their side, he believed he could get past the wall Ronal would inevitably put up.

As the crowd parted, he prepared himself, but he felt all the breath be taken out of his lungs.

Ronal stalked closer, her imposing demeanor, but that wasn’t what shocked him. Behind her, following at her heels, was a young girl. Teal skin with swirling stripes.

She resembled you. 

He couldn’t place it; the girl was Metkayina, in every way. But something about her face, the way her expression was set in it, how she carried herself. The air around her, the look in her eyes. All of it set off bells in his chest, ringing and clanging against the grief that settled there. The grief for you. 

She stood behind Ronal, tilting her head exactly the way you did when you were curious about something. 

Neytiri had seen it hundreds of times, holding you in her lap at the schoolhouse. She let out a breath. Jake glanced at her, millions of words passing between them.

She saw it too.

Jake took a moment to collect himself, pulling back from the shock he’d experienced but couldn’t explain. He went on with his prepared speech. He was seeking Uturu; sanctuary, safety for his family. 

His veins were buzzing. He didn’t want to be turned away, to force his children to retreat in defeat, praying they’d find another clan willing to listen and take them in. He felt helpless.

Ronal, skeptical, circled the family. She pulled at their tails, remarking how inefficient they’d be in the water, in their way of life. 

She approached Kiri, taking her hands in hers. A scowl crossed her face. Four fingers. Kiri held her breath, self-conscious of her extra finger, a tell-tale sign of their human descent. Demon descent.

Ronal gazed down, tilting her head.

She looked up to her daughter, the one who’d arrived with her. She watched her for a moment, the dreams she saw all those years ago flooding her mind. Something she’d never speak aloud.

She dropped Kiri’s hands, walking past the children and Jake Sully. “You are ill fit to live here.”

“We can adapt. We can learn.” He pleaded, desperate to convince them to let his family stay. Desperate to appease the leaders of the clan. 

“I’m done with war.” He spoke to Tonowari, quiet and between them. “I just want to keep my family safe.”

Ronal watched him, not convinced by his words. Behind her, her daughter stepped forward, placing her hand on her mother's shoulder.

“Sa’nu.” The words escaped her lips, and Jake breathed in. He saw you, sitting in Grace’s lap in the lab, running up to her excitedly, lying at the spirit tree, dying. 

Ronal looked at her daughter, words exchanged between their gazes, she turned to her mate, being met with the same sentiment. A moment passed, and she nodded. 

“Jake Sully and his family will stay with us.” Tonowari announced, explaining to the clan their duty to teach them their ways of life. 

Jake sighed in relief, bringing forth a ‘thank you’ from his family. 

“Our children, Syuli, Ao’nung, and Tsireya, will show your children what to do.”

Ao’nung stepped forth, displeased by his father's decision, but silenced.

“Come, we will show you our village!” Tsireya stepped forward, hand in hand with her sister. 

You looked to the family that had arrived at your village. You took in their faces. 

They felt familiar to you. You couldn’t place it.

Tsireya tugged you along through the village, humming as you made your way across the woven walkways. Neytiri and Jake, though focused on taking in their new home, couldn’t help but watch you. The bounce in your step all too familiar.

It was eerie, and they didn’t understand their attribution of you to the little girl they’d known all those years ago. 

You became a constant in their life, always around their kids, peeking into their Marui to offer fruits you’d picked with your mother. You were a sweetheart, thoughtful, and kind to their children. 

Your mother stayed skeptical of her allowance of the foreigners into their clan, fueled by your growing night problems. 

It had been years since she last caught you sleepwalking. It was a problem when you were a child, roaming around the village in the midst of the night. Many concerned clan members came to her with stories of how you found yourself at the edge of the walkways, staring up into the open sky with a withered look on your face.

You sleep-talked, she discovered after staying up to follow you one night. You spoke garbled sentences, strung together words that didn’t make sense. You spoke in a mix of Na’vi and English.

How you even knew the language? She couldn’t understand. 

She prayed nightly, seeking for guidance on how to help her sweet baby girl. Again, she was only met with visions of that human child.

It all came to a head one night when Tsireya woke her up, lip jutting out as she whispered that you’d fallen during your walks. Ronal soothed her daughter, telling her to go back to sleep before leaving to find you. 

You were on your knees, hands clasped together as you spoke in broken prayers, eyes glazed over. You were somewhere she didn’t know.

She was tired of it, worried to death, and lost. So, she did the only thing she could think of. She pulled you into the water carefully, holding you as she rode to the Cove of the Ancestors. You came out of your trance, slowly but surely, but still drowsy and out of it. 

She was able to coax you to enough consciousness to get you to dive under, connecting with the spirit tree. 

She doesn’t know what you saw when you did. All she knows is that you hadn’t sleep-walked, or talked since. She knew you were special. A child she would never truly understand, but she loved and cherished you with everything she had. 

She saw the way the animals around you seemed to move in sync with you, how the luminescence at night pulsed with your breath. She didn’t ask for answers. She loved you and she trusted the Great Mother. 

But here you were again, standing at the entrance of their Marui, eyes glazed over, staring off into the stars. Ever since they’d let the Sullys stay, you’d been walking and talking in your sleep again. 

It wasn’t as intense, thankfully, but it was enough to rouse her or her children from sleep every so often.

They worried for you. They took turns staying up, watching you, easing you back to sleep, careful not to startle you from your trance. During the day, they acted as if nothing was different. They knew you were different, but they loved you nonetheless. You were their daughter, their sister. 

Ao’nung picked on you, teasing you and going out of his way to bother you. It was his way of showing his love, he joked. He had his moments. Picking you up in his arms and carrying you across the village to your mother for treatment when you hurt yourself on a spear, ignoring your complaints that it was your hand that was injured, not your legs, you could still walk! He ignored you, carefully setting you down in their Marui, lurking by the door until you were bandaged up and ready to leave.

Tsireya was easier. You got along with your younger sister without any problems, aside from the occasional spat that never went anywhere. You two were two peas in a pod. Inseparable. Hands clasped together, arms wrapped around each other. You were always together. It’s how you thrived. 

Ronal and Tonowari, they never gave a second thought to the fact that you weren’t theirs, because you were. From the moment they’d set you down in that cradle, you’d become theirs. Their love for you was strong and unwavering. They called your name out with affection, they weaved you jewelry and clothes with love, they never let you doubt you were loved. They held you as you slept, as you dreamt.

And you dreamt. You dreamt every night. Of faces, of voices, of people you didn’t know, but knew. 

By the time you woke up, your dreams were in blurry fragments, unable to be pieced together or made sense of. 

Your family didn’t voice their worries to you. They saw how you flourished when interacting with their new clan members. 

You were patient with them, guiding them through your way of life like it was the easiest thing to do. You blended in with them, conversing with the children so easily, it was as if you’d been doing it your entire life. 

You and your siblings, Rotxo, and the Sully kids became somewhat of a friend group. Always together, at least in fragments. You felt as if your family had expanded.

The Sully kids adored you, especially Kiri. It was something about the way the two of you seemed to understand nature that connected you. And perhaps, your mysterious origins. 

You confided in Kiri, and Kiri alone, about your peculiar birth. The whole clan knew, they’d witnessed it firsthand, but the story hadn’t made its way to the Sullys. Perhaps it was because it was accepted, no one thought twice about it, you were Ronal and Tonowari's daughter. No one thought to mention that, by biological means, you weren’t.

You told her how you didn’t know your biological parents. No one did. Abandoned at the Spirit tree, you were taken in by Ronal and Tonowari, raised alongside Tsireya, and essentially as Ao’nung’s twin. 

She told you about her mother, a scientist who was beloved by their clan, who died during the first war against the humans. She was born from her Avatar.

Grace.

You spoke her name before Kiri told you.

An odd look passed her face. It wasn't until it dripped from your chin that you realised a tear had slipped down your cheek.

“I-i’m sorry, I'm just-” You strung together words, embarrassed and confused by your unconscious outburst. “It’s hard to speak about my birth.” You blamed it on that. Kiri accepted your words, wrapping her arms around you in an embrace that felt warmer than anything else you’d experienced.

You grew a lot closer to the Sully kids. It was their parents who were odd to be around.

Jake and Neytiri didn’t know what to think of you. You were Ronal and Tonowari’s daughter, Na’vi, born and raised in the reef. Yet when they looked at you, heard your voice, all they could see was that little girl they’d loved. 

They were going crazy. That was the only explanation. Driven mad by the destruction of their home and subsequent forced abandonment of it. 

They wanted to talk to you. They ached to. But it ached just as much to do so. It wasn’t fair to you, their projections of grief onto you. 

You were kind, you spoke for them when they first arrived, and you went out of your way to welcome them. You taught their children and defended them, taking them in as if they were your blood. 

But every time they saw you, they were swarmed by a whirlpool of grief and relief. 

“She speaks like her.” Neytiri would whisper one night, when all the children were off in the village attending a celebration, Jake lying next to her.

“Yeah.” He’d say, eyes locked on Neytiri’s face, watching as she wandered through her mind. Watching as a tear slipped down her cheek. 

For weeks, they watched you, watching every movement and quirk you exhibited. How you spoke, how you moved through the walkways, your sense of humor. The way you scrunched your nose in a certain way when faced with food you didn’t like. It all pointed back.

Back to her.

That girl.

She haunted them. 

A ghost following them around. One they thought they’d put to rest over a decade ago. 

They had moved on. They grieved her, yes, but they had learned to live without her. Just as they did with every person they lost. 

But she was back. 

They thought it was in their heads at first, but the more they saw, the more they became sure. 

Her body had disappeared, Neytiri recounted to him, a whisper under her breath as they watched you talk to Neteyam and Tsireya from afar. They’d left her at the tree like Mo’at demanded, abiding by Eywa's wishes. Her body was gone far too quickly to have been natural decomposition, and no creature would dare feast on a body wrapped in Eywa’s arms like she was.

They didn’t question it, too wrapped up in their grief to try and breach the topic. They simply accepted it. Eywa wanted her. She was with Grace, they believed. 

But she wasn’t.

She was in the reef, living amongst the people, living. 

They saw you, and they saw her. One in the same.

They’d grieved you, and now you stood right in front of them, out of their reach.

It tore them apart. They must have been going insane because you were not that girl they knew, you were not the girl they loved and doted on. But you were.

You couldn’t be. 

But they watched and they watched and they saw. They saw her. 

“It’s not her.” Jake’s voice was steel. Laced with a hardened grief. 

“I know what I saw, you know what you see.” Neytiri defended, unsure of how to explain it. 

He shook his head, pacing back and forth in the Marui, sliding a hand down his face. 

“She’s a Metkayina! She’s Ronal and Tonowai’s daughter! That's it.” He spoke so certainly, as if he were trying to convince himself.

The two breathed heavily, working through their mind and hearts to get their words. Logic wasn’t making sense, but they tried to cling to it, both of them in different ways. 

“Ronal didn’t give birth to her, nor did Tonowair father her.” Neytiris' words were heavy, like steel and stone. “A gift from Eywa, Ronal calls her.”

Their eyes met. 

At this point, they were haunted less by you and more by the fact that you were back. It wasn’t easy mourning someone, learning to accept their death after having grown to love them so fiercely, to learn how to live without them. All of that, only for them to appear again. 

All those walls they’d built, all the strength they’d planted in their grief, it was crumbling, the base of it all blowing away like sand in the wind. 

It almost hurt more than the grief itself. 

They simmered in it for weeks, speaking through glances and hushed whispers. 

It was quiet that day. Jake was making his rounds through the village when he heard it. The humming. Not just the humming but the tune.

Slowly, he rounded the corner, peaking around the Marui, eyes landing on you sitting on the edge of the walkway, legs dangling from an opening. You sat there, beading an arm piece as you hummed.

You hummed the lullaby Jake had used to sing that girl to sleep. The lullaby from Earth.

He felt his chest crack open. He wanted to say something, to reach out and speak to you-

“Sempu!” You called out, spotting Tonowari walk up from another direction. Wordlessly, you held up your work for him, a smile spreading across your face as he approached and knelt down.

“Ah, this is great work, my little ‘itetsyip.” He leaned in, hand reaching up to pull it closer to examine it. He grinned, nodding towards you. “You are an exceptional crafter.”

Jake watched the scene, brows furrowing, a weight resting in his chest. 

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, bah! You and Mother praise me far too much.” 

Tonowair simply chuckled, his hand moving to cradle your cheek as you grinned at him. 

“No, we simply see how great you are.”

Jake started to notice more after that. He watched not just you, but your life. How you wandered freely through the village, greeting your clan members eagerly, your cheerfulness returned. You were surrounded by kids your age, all watching you with a mix of adoration and respect. You bonded with your siblings, giggling over inside jokes and banter. 

Your parents were doting. They didn’t spoil you; they made sure you were responsible and self-aware, but they loved you, and they showed it. The more he watched, the more Neytiri did too; perhaps she’d been watching the full scene the whole time.

You weren’t alone.

You smiled so widely, and you never had to beg, you never had to work for attention or affection. You were accepted wholeheartedly. 

You had everything you wanted here, Neytiri and Jake realized. You had everything they wanted to give you, and you didn’t have any barriers. You weren’t human or parentless. You moved about freely. You weren’t raised to expect to come second, third, or fourth place. 

Neytiri and Jake had wanted to give you that life. But they couldn’t. They never could.

The Great Mother didn’t fulfill their desires to be the one to love you; she gave you what you needed. She gave you the opportunity to live. 

It was bittersweet. You had the life you wanted. You were loved. 

Just not by them. 

And that was ok. 

They’d lived their lives, they’d found happiness, a family, and they were good.