ALEX 𝜗𝜚

the tawkami had always been known for their deep knowledge of the forest's flora, their healing practices, their careful stewardship of pandora's botanical wonders. growing up among them, you'd learned to read the forest in ways that went beyond simple survival—you understood the language of plants, the way certain flowers bloomed before rain, how to extract medicine from bark and root. it was a gift your clan took seriously, a sacred trust passed down through generations.

spider had always been fascinated by this side of you. he'd watch you work with plants, mixing salves or identifying specimens, with an intensity that made you self-conscious. "you're like a forest witch," he'd say, grinning. "in the best way."

"the tawkami would say i'm barely an apprentice," you'd reply, but you couldn't help smiling back.

spider tried to pretend he didn't notice the growing tension. tried to keep things light, keep exploring, keep laughing. but you saw the way his jaw would tighten when the adults talked in hushed voices, the way his eyes would track the sky like he was waiting for something to fall from it.

your tawkami mother—the woman who'd sung you to sleep with clan songs and taught you to speak to the forest—pulled you aside one evening. her weathered hands cupped your face, and her eyes held a sadness you didn't want to understand.

"the sky people's return will test us all," she said softly in the tawkami dialect. "but you, my daughter, will face harder choices than most. you walk between two worlds. remember: home is not where you were born. home is where your heart knows peace."

you didn't fully understand then. but you would.

"they wouldn't come back for me," spider said one night, the two of you sitting on a high branch overlooking the forest. the bioluminescence was just beginning to wake up below you, tiny stars blinking to life in the darkness. "i'm nobody. just... just a kid they left behind."

"you're not nobody," you said fiercely, and when he looked at you, surprised by your tone, you didn't look away. "not to me. not to any of us. not to the tawkami who let you visit our settlements, who taught you which plants were safe to touch.”

"that was mostly because of you," he said quietly. "maybe. but they saw who you really were. that matters." something flickered across his face—gratitude, maybe, or something deeper. he reached over and took your hand, lacing his fingers through yours like it was the most natural thing in the world. your breath caught, but you didn't pull away. neither of you said anything else. you just sat there, hands intertwined, watching the forest breathe beneath you.

that became your thing after that. holding hands. it started casual—him pulling you up a steep climb, you steadying him when he nearly slipped on wet rocks—but it evolved into something deliberate. intentional. his hand finding yours when you walked, your fingers tangled together when you sat close, the gentle squeeze he'd give when he caught you worrying.

kiri noticed first, naturally. she had this way of seeing things others missed, connected to eywa and the world in ways that made her almost otherworldly. she cornered you one afternoon while you were gathering medicinal herbs for your tawkami teachers, her golden eyes knowing and amused.

"so," she said, plucking a piece of fruit and examining it like it was the most interesting thing in the world. "you and spider." your cheeks burned. "what about us?"

"you know what." she smiled, soft and genuine. "it's okay. it's... it's good, actually. you're good for each other. the tawkami teach that some souls are bound by the forest itself, right? maybe that's you two."

"we're just friends," you said, but even you didn't believe it anymore. kiri laughed, gentle and knowing. "if that's what you want to call it." she touched your shoulder, her hand warm. "but for what it's worth? i think eywa brought you two together for a reason. you're both human, both trying to find where you fit. maybe you fit with each other."

her words stayed with you for days, circling in your mind every time spider smiled at you, every time his hand found yours, every time you caught him staring like you were something precious.

lo'ak was less subtle about it. he started making exaggerated kissing noises whenever you and spider sat too close, which earned him a punch in the arm from neteyam and a lecture about respect. tuk just thought it was romantic, in that innocent way kids do, and started weaving flower crowns for both of you—using techniques you'd taught her from the tawkami—insisting you wear them together.

neteyam, mature as always, just gave spider a look one day—the kind of look that said if you hurt her, we'll have problems—but then clapped him on the shoulder in what you assumed was big-brother approval.

even some of your tawkami clan siblings began to tease you. during a gathering, one of them nudged you and whispered, "your human boy looks at you like you're the rarest flower in the forest." you'd blushed so hard you had to excuse yourself.

and through it all, you and spider kept dancing around it. kept not talking about what you were, what you were becoming. because maybe naming it would make it too real, too fragile. maybe it was safer to just exist in this in-between space where you could be everything to each other without the weight of words.

but the world didn't care about your careful balance.

the sky people came back.

not all at once, not with the violence of the first war, but slowly, methodically, like a sickness creeping through the forest. their ships carved scars across pandora's sky, their machines churned through the earth, their presence hung heavy like smoke.

the tawkami were among the first to notice the changes. plants dying in patterns that made no sense. water sources becoming tainted. the careful balance of the ecosystem disrupting in ways that terrified those who understood it best. you spent long hours with your clan's elders, documenting the damage, trying to find ways to heal what could be healed and mourn what couldn't.

and spider... spider got quieter. more distant. you'd catch him staring at the sky with an expression you couldn't read, something complicated and painful. when you asked him about it, he'd just shake his head and change the subject.

until the day you found him sitting alone by the river, knees pulled to his chest, mask slightly fogged from his breathing. he didn't notice you at first, too lost in whatever thoughts were eating at him.

"spider," you said softly, and he jerked, quickly wiping at his face. were those tears? "hey," he said, voice rough. "didn't hear you coming. thought you were with your clan today."

"i was. finished early." you sat down next to him, close enough that your shoulders touched. the river burbled beside you, carrying healing plants downstream—plants that might not survive much longer if things continued this way. "what's wrong?"

“nothing. i'm fine."

"you're a terrible liar."

he laughed, but it was hollow. for a long moment, he didn't speak. then, quietly: "do you ever wonder if we're on the wrong side?"

you turned to look at him, startled. "what?" "i mean... they're human. we're human. and we're here with the na'vi, ready to fight against our own species if it comes to that." his hands were shaking slightly. "what does that make us? traitors?"

"it makes us people who know what's right," you said firmly, thinking of the dying plants, the poisoned water, the grief in your tawkami mother's eyes. "this is our home, spider. these are our people. that's what matters."

“but what if—"

"no." you grabbed his hand, forcing him to look at you. "listen to me. you are not them. you are not your father, you're not the rda, you're not whatever they represent. you're you. you're the boy who taught me to climb, who makes me laugh, who spent hours learning tawkami plant names just because it mattered to me. you belong here just as much as anyone. don't let them make you doubt that." his eyes were wet, his expression crumbling. "i just... i don't want to lose this. lose you. lose everything we have."

"you won't," you promised, even though you couldn't possibly know that. "we stick together, remember? always. that's what my mother taught me—home is where your heart knows peace. you're my peace, spider. you always have been."

"always," he whispered, and then he pulled you into a hug, desperate and tight, his face buried in your shoulder. you held him just as tightly, feeling the way his breath hitched, the way he trembled slightly.

when he finally pulled back, his eyes met yours, and there was something raw and open in his gaze. "i don't know what i'd do without you," he said, echoing words from years ago. but this time they felt heavier, more urgent.

"good thing you'll never have to find out," you said, trying to smile.

he didn't smile back. instead, he lifted a hand to your cheek, thumb brushing across your skin with a gentleness that made your heart stutter. his fingers traced the tawkami clan markings you'd painted on that morning—traditional patterns in plant-based dye. "can i—"

you didn't let him finish. you closed the distance between you, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that was soft and tentative and absolutely perfect. he made a small sound of surprise, then kissed you back, his hand sliding into your hair, his other arm wrapping around your waist.

it was clumsy and sweet and tasted like the fruit you'd shared earlier, and when you finally broke apart, both breathless, spider was grinning—that crooked, boyish grin you'd fallen in love with somewhere between age seven and now. "so," he said, slightly dazed. "we're really doing this?"

"yeah," you said, matching his smile. "we're really doing this." "good," he said, and kissed you again, softer this time, sweeter. like he was memorizing the feel of it.

the world was uncertain. the future was unclear. your tawkami clan faced impossible challenges, the forest itself was under siege, and everything you knew hung in the balance. but right now, with spider's arms around you and the forest singing around you both, you'd never been more sure of anything in your life.

you'd face whatever came next together.

the sun was bright overhead, almost too bright, and you had to squint as you made your way down to the water. your feet felt clumsy on the woven pathways, and you nearly stumbled twice before you even reached the beach. maybe you should've stayed in bed. but you shook it off, convincing yourself it was just the heat, just the early morning grogginess that hadn't worn off yet.

tsireya was already waiting by the shore, her usual warm smile in place as she waved you over. "there you are! i was starting to think you'd forgotten," she teased, though her eyes scanned your face with a hint of concern. "are you feeling alright? you look a little pale."

"i'm fine," you said quickly, forcing a smile. "just didn't sleep great last night."

she didn't look entirely convinced, but she nodded and gestured toward the water. "alright, well, let's make this quick then. we just need to collect some of the seaweed from the shallow beds. it shouldn't take too long."

you nodded and followed her into the water, the coolness of it a brief relief against your skin. but as you waded deeper, the wooziness that had been lingering in the back of your mind started to creep forward. your vision swam slightly, and you had to pause, gripping onto a nearby rock to steady yourself.

"hey, you sure you're okay?" tsireya's voice came from beside you, her hand reaching out to touch your arm.

"yeah, yeah, i'm good," you insisted, even though your voice sounded far away to your own ears. "just... give me a second."

she frowned but didn't push it, instead moving ahead to start gathering the seaweed. you took a deep breath and tried to focus, tried to ignore the way the world seemed to tilt slightly with every step you took. you could do this. it was just a little dizziness. nothing you couldn't handle.

but as the minutes passed, it only got worse.

by the time you made it back to the beach, your legs felt like they were made of water, barely holding you up. tsireya was talking about something, her voice a pleasant hum in the background, but you couldn't quite make out the words. everything sounded muffled, like you were underwater.

"...and then rotxo said the funniest thing, you should've seen ao'nung's face—" tsireya paused, turning to look at you. "wait, are you even listening?"

you blinked, trying to focus on her face, but it kept blurring in and out. "sorry, what?"

her expression shifted from amused to worried in an instant. "okay, seriously, you don't look good. maybe we should get you to—"

"i'm fine," you cut her off, though even you didn't believe it anymore. you took a step forward, intending to prove it, but your foot caught on something—or maybe it didn't, maybe your body just decided it was done—and you stumbled.

tsireya caught your arm, her grip firm but gentle. "that's it, we're getting you back to the village. you need to sit down."

you wanted to argue, but the words wouldn't come. instead, you just nodded, letting her guide you back toward the pathways. each step felt like a monumental effort, your body screaming at you to stop, to just sit down right there and not move. but you kept going, one foot in front of the other, because stopping felt like admitting defeat.

and that's when you saw him.

lo'ak was over by one of the larger marui pods, talking to neteyam and kiri. he looked relaxed, his usual easygoing grin on his face as he gestured animatedly about something. but then his eyes flicked over toward you, and his expression changed immediately.

you saw the exact moment he noticed something was wrong. his smile faded, his brow furrowing as he took a step forward, his gaze locked on you. you tried to give him a reassuring wave, tried to show him you were fine, but your arm felt too heavy to lift properly.

"yo, lo'ak, where are you going?" neteyam called after him, but lo'ak was already moving, his long strides eating up the distance between you in seconds.

"hey," he said as he reached you, his voice low and urgent. "what's going on? you look like you're about to—"

he didn't get to finish the sentence.

because that's when your legs finally gave out.

the world tilted sideways, the bright blue sky swapping places with the ground, and you felt yourself falling. but you didn't hit the sand. instead, there were hands—strong, steady hands—catching you, wrapping around your waist and pulling you back.

"whoa, whoa, i got you," lo'ak's voice was right by your ear, his tone a mix of panic and determination. you felt him shift, one arm sliding under your knees while the other supported your back, and then he was lowering you down gently, carefully, until you were sitting on the ground with your back against something solid.

"what happened?" neteyam's voice joined the fray, and you could hear the concern in it even through the fog clouding your mind. "is she okay?"

"i don't know, she just—she was fine and then she wasn't," tsireya said, her voice shaking slightly. "i tried to get her to rest, but she wouldn't listen."

"of course she wouldn't," lo'ak muttered, and you could hear the frustration in his voice, though it was directed more at the situation than at you. his hand was on your face now, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he tried to get you to focus on him. "hey, look at me. can you hear me?"

you tried to respond, tried to tell him you were fine, but your tongue felt too thick, your mouth too dry. all you managed was a weak nod.

"she's burning up," lo'ak said, his voice tight. "we need to get her out of the sun. neteyam, help me get her to the healer's pod."

"on it," neteyam replied, and you felt another set of hands, these ones on your arm, steadying you as lo'ak carefully lifted you again. you wanted to protest, wanted to tell them you could walk, but your body had other ideas. it was like all the energy had been sapped out of you, leaving you limp and useless.

"kiri, go find ronal," lo'ak instructed, his voice firm despite the worry evident in his eyes. "tell her we need her. now."

"got it," kiri said, and you heard her footsteps retreating quickly.

the next few minutes were a blur. you were vaguely aware of being carried, of the world moving around you in a dizzying swirl of colors and sounds. voices overlapped, some familiar, some not, all of them tinged with concern. you tried to focus, tried to ground yourself, but it was like trying to hold onto water—everything just slipped through your fingers.

and then you were being laid down on something soft, and the harsh brightness of the sun was replaced by the cool shade of a marui pod. you felt a damp cloth being pressed to your forehead, the coolness of it a shock against your overheated skin.

"she is dehydrated and exhausted," ronal's voice cut through the haze, calm and authoritative. "she needs rest and water. lots of water."

"will she be okay?" lo'ak's voice was quieter now, almost hesitant, and you could hear the raw concern in it.

"she will be fine," ronal assured him. "but she must rest. no more pushing herself like this."

there was a pause, and then you felt a hand slip into yours, fingers intertwining with your own. you didn't need to open your eyes to know it was lo'ak. his grip was warm, steady, grounding.

"you scared the hell out of me," he said softly, his voice so close you could feel his breath against your skin. "don't do that again."

you wanted to respond, wanted to tell him you were sorry, that you didn't mean to worry him. but the exhaustion was pulling you under, and all you could manage was a faint squeeze of his hand.

"just rest," he murmured, his thumb tracing gentle circles on the back of your hand. "i'll be right here when you wake up."

and with that promise, you let yourself slip into the darkness, trusting that he'd keep his word.

when you woke up, the first thing you noticed was how much better you felt. the fog that had been clouding your mind was gone, replaced by a clarity that made you realize just how out of it you'd been before. the second thing you noticed was the weight on your hand, and you looked down to see lo'ak slumped in a chair beside you, his head resting on his arms, his hand still holding yours even in sleep.

you couldn't help but smile at the sight, your heart doing a weird little flip in your chest. he looked so peaceful like this, his usually animated face relaxed, his breathing slow and even. you didn't want to wake him, but as if sensing your gaze, his eyes fluttered open, and he sat up quickly, blinking away the sleep.

"hey," he said, his voice rough with drowsiness. "you're awake. how are you feeling?"

"better," you said, and you meant it. "thanks to you."

he shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. "you don't have to thank me. i just... i'm glad you're okay."

there was a moment of silence, the kind that felt heavy with unspoken words, and then lo'ak sighed, running a hand through his braids. "you really need to start taking better care of yourself, you know. you can't just ignore when something's wrong."

"i know," you admitted, feeling a flush of embarrassment creep up your neck. "i just didn't want to let anyone down."

"you wouldn't have let anyone down by taking a break," he said gently, his eyes meeting yours. "we care about you. i care about you. and seeing you like that..." he trailed off, his jaw tightening. "just promise me you'll listen to your body next time."

"i promise," you said, squeezing his hand.

he smiled then, a real, genuine smile that made your heart do that weird flip again. "good. because i don't think my heart can take another scare like that."

"come on, slowpoke!" tsireya called out, her voice bright with laughter as she glanced back at you from where she sat on her ilu. you grinned, giving her a mock salute before urging your own ilu forward. the creature responded eagerly, and you felt the familiar rush of adrenaline as you dove beneath the surface. the reef was alive with color—different shades of colors stretched out in every direction, and schools of fish darted past like living rainbows.

lo'ak was beside you in an instant, his ilu matching pace with yours. he shot you that crooked smile that always made your heart do something stupid, and you rolled your eyes at him through your mask.

"trying to show off?" you asked, your voice slightly muffled by the breathing equipment.

"maybe," he said, his grin widening. "is it working?"

before you could answer, kiri swept past both of you, her movements so fluid and natural that she seemed more at home in the water than on land. "you two are ridiculous," she called back, though there was affection in her tone.

the group of you continued exploring, weaving through towering formations of coral and chasing after curious sea creatures. rotxo pointed out a particularly stunning animal, and ao'nung—surprisingly—didn't make a single sarcastic comment about your swimming ability. you were starting to think he might actually be warming up to you.

neytiri had even smiled at you this morning before you left, a small but genuine expression that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you were becoming part of this strange, wonderful family.

you were so caught up in the beauty of it all that you didn't notice the subtle change at first. the way your breathing felt just a fraction harder. the way the mask seemed to fog up more than usual.

it wasn't until you felt a sharp ache in your chest that alarm bells started ringing in your head. you glanced down at your mask's display, and your blood ran cold. the oxygen levels were dropping. fast.

"oh no," you whispered, your voice tight with rising panic. you tried to stay calm, tried to remember your training. you reached for the emergency release, hoping to switch to the backup system, but when you pressed it, nothing happened. the mechanism was jammed.

your heart rate spiked, and you could feel your chest tightening further. you needed to surface. you needed to get back to the marui where your spare mask was waiting.

you tried to signal to the others, but they were too far ahead, too engrossed in their exploration. you urged your ilu upward, breaking the surface with a gasp. the mask was barely giving you anything now, each breath a struggle.

"lo'ak!" you tried to shout, but your voice came out weak, strained. you looked around desperately, trying to spot any of them, but the waves made it hard to see. your vision was starting to blur at the edges, black spots dancing in your peripheral vision.

then, suddenly, lo'ak's head broke the surface a few meters away. he was laughing at something kiri had said, but his expression changed the instant he saw you. "y/n?" his voice was sharp with concern, and he was at your side in seconds. "what's wrong?"

“mask," you managed to choke out, tapping the side of it frantically. "not... working..."

his eyes went wide, and for a split second, you saw genuine fear flash across his face. then he was moving, calling out to the others with an urgency that made your stomach drop even further.

"we need to get back! now!" he shouted, and you heard the splashing as the others surfaced, their confused questions cutting through the air.

"what happened?" tsireya asked, her voice tight with worry. "their mask is broken," lo'ak said quickly, already positioning his ilu. "the spare is back at the marui. we have to go!"

you tried to protest, tried to say you could make it on your own, but another wave of dizziness hit you and you stumbled, nearly slipping off your ilu. lo'ak caught you, his grip strong and steady.

"hold on to me," he said, his voice firm but laced with an emotion you couldn't quite name. "don't let go, okay?" you nodded weakly, wrapping your arms around him as best you could. the world was starting to tilt, sounds becoming muffled and distant.

the journey back was a blur. you were vaguely aware of the others surrounding you, of kiri's worried voice asking if you were okay, of ao'nung barking orders about the fastest route. but mostly, you were focused on breathing—or trying to. each inhale was like dragging air through a straw, and your lungs burned with the effort.

"stay with me," lo'ak kept saying, his voice cutting through the fog in your mind. "we're almost there. just stay with me." you wanted to answer him, wanted to tell him you were trying, but you couldn't seem to form the words. your grip on him was weakening, your fingers going numb.

"y/n!" his voice was sharper now, tinged with panic. "don't you dare pass out on me!" you felt the ilu lurch forward, moving faster than before. the shore was getting closer—you could see the familiar shapes of the marui pods, could hear distant voices calling out in alarm.

but everything was fading. the colors were washing out, the sounds becoming nothing more than a distant hum. your head lolled against lo'ak's shoulder, and you felt him tense.

"no, no, no," he was saying, over and over like a prayer. "come on, we're right here. just a little further." you felt the moment the ilu reached the shore, felt lo'ak lift you with a strength you didn't know he had. there were voices all around now—neytiri's sharp tone cutting through, demanding to know what happened; jake's commanding presence as he cleared a path.

"the spare mask!" lo'ak was shouting. "someone get the spare mask!" you were laid down on something soft—woven mats, maybe—and you tried to focus on the faces above you, but they were all swimming together. you could feel hands on you, hear the frantic scrambling as someone ran to get what you needed.

"breathe, y/n," neytiri's voice was surprisingly gentle, her hand on your shoulder. "help is coming. breathe." you tried. you really did. but your body wasn't cooperating anymore.

then, suddenly, the broken mask was being pulled away and replaced with a new one. fresh, clean oxygen flooded your lungs, and you gasped, coughing and sputtering as your body remembered how to breathe properly.

the world slowly came back into focus. the first thing you saw was lo'ak's face, streaked with water—or maybe tears, you couldn't tell—hovering inches from yours. his eyes were wide and terrified, his hands cupping your face.

"you're okay," he was saying, though it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than you. "you're okay. you're breathing." you managed a weak nod, your hand coming up to cover one of his. "i'm... okay," you whispered, your voice hoarse.

he let out a shaky breath, and then, to your surprise, he pulled you into a tight hug, his face buried in your shoulder. you could feel him trembling. "don't ever do that again," he said, his voice muffled against you. "i thought... i thought i was going to lose you."

you wrapped your arms around him, still weak but wanting to comfort him. "takes more than a broken mask to get rid of me," you tried to joke, but your voice cracked.

around you, the others were watching with a mixture of relief and residual worry. kiri had tears in her eyes, and even ao'nung looked shaken. tsireya was clutching rotxo's arm, her face pale.

neytiri knelt down beside you, her expression unreadable. for a moment, you thought she might be angry—maybe this would be the thing that finally convinced her you didn't belong here.

but then she reached out, her hand gentle as she brushed hair back from your forehead. "you scared us," she said softly. "you scared my son." you looked up at her, surprised by the concern in her eyes. "i'm sorry," you said. "i didn't mean to—"

"no apologies," she cut you off, her tone firm but not unkind. "just... be more careful. you are part of this family now. we cannot lose you." the words hit you harder than anything else that day. part of this family. you felt tears prick at your eyes, and you nodded, not trusting yourself to speak.

lo'ak pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands still on your shoulders. "from now on, you check your mask twice before we go anywhere," he said, trying for stern but failing miserably. "and you stay close to me. always."

"always," you agreed, managing a small smile. he smiled back, and for a moment, everything else faded away. it was just the two of you, breathing in sync, alive and together.

"come on," jake's voice broke through the moment. "let's get you inside. norm's going to want to check that mask and make sure you're really okay." norm had recently arrived to the clan due to wanting to check on you, but he was currently with other clan members. lo'ak helped you to your feet, keeping a protective arm around you as you walked. your legs were still shaky, but with him supporting you, you knew you'd make it. as you made your way to the marui, surrounded by people who cared about you—who had dropped everything to save you—you realized something. this world might not have been made for you, but somehow, you'd found your place in it anyway.

the hidden cove on the far side of the island was one of them. you'd found him here once when you were younger, maybe thirteen, and he'd been so annoyed that he'd splashed you until you left. but then the next day he'd shown up and asked if you wanted to go hunting, and that was that. a friendship born from being annoyed with each other and just being around each other and both of you being too stubborn to back down from anything.

he was sitting at the water's edge, his feet in the shallows, his ilu floating nearby with that patient worried look animals sometimes had. the glowing algae cast soft blue light across his skin, showing the tension in his shoulders, the way he was hunched over like he was trying to make himself smaller.

aonung had never tried to make himself smaller in his life.

"hey," you said softly, walking up slowly like you would with a hurt animal.

he didn't turn around. "go away."

"no."

"i'm not in the mood."

"i don't care."

that got a reaction. he turned his head just enough that you could see his face, the hard line of his jaw. "seriously. leave."

"make me." you sat down next to him, close enough that your shoulders almost touched, and put your feet in the water too. it was warm, always warm, but tonight it felt different somehow. heavier.

for a long moment he didn't say anything. his ilu made a small chirping sound and swam closer, pushing its head against your arm until you reached out to pet it. the skin was smooth and cool, kind of comforting.

"she's gone," aonung said finally, his voice rough and low. "my mom is gone."

"i know."

"she just... she had prill and then she was fighting and then she was just gone. like it was nothing. like her life didn't matter."

"it wasn't nothing," you said firmly. "and her life mattered. she died protecting all of us. protecting prill."

"what kind of world did she bring prill into?" his voice cracked on his baby sister's name. "what kind of world where babies are born during battles and mothers die before they even get to hold their kids? the ash people, the sky people, all of it. quaritch jumping into the fire like some dramatic exit, not even letting us know if he's dead. what's the point?"

you didn't have an answer for that. you'd been asking yourself the same things since the battle ended, since you'd watched ronal fall and heard the wave of grief that went through the metkayina warriors.

"your mom was the strongest person i knew," you said instead. "remember when that storm hit two years ago and everyone was freaking out? she just stood there in the rain, totally calm, and told everyone exactly what to do. we didn't lose a single marui because of her."

aonung made a sound that might have been a laugh or might have been a sob. "she once threatened to feed me to an akula because i pranked tsireya."

"you put a dead fish in her sleeping mat. you deserved the akula threat."

"it was funny."

"it was gross."

this time it was definitely a laugh, small and broken but real. his ilu chirped again, happy, and did a little spin in the water.

"show off," aonung muttered, but there was affection in his voice.

you sat in silence for a while, watching the glowing stuff pulse and swirl around your feet. in the distance you could hear the sounds of the village starting to recover, voices calling to each other, the splash of hunters coming back with food. life going on because it had to.

"prill doesn't have a mother," aonung said quietly. "she's going to grow up without knowing her. without hearing her voice or learning her healing songs or any of it."

"she'll have you. and tsireya. and tonowari. and honestly half the clan because everyone loved your mom." you bumped your shoulder against his. "and she'll have me, because someone needs to make sure you don't teach her all your bad habits."

"my habits aren't bad."

"you literally tried to fight someone last month because they 'looked at you weird.'"

"they did look at me weird!"

"they were yawning, aonung.."

he turned to face you fully then, and you could see the redness around his eyes, the tear tracks. aonung, who prided himself on being strong and tough, who'd stepped up during the battle against the ash people and fought like crazy. he looked young suddenly, younger than he was, just a boy who'd lost his mother.

"i don't know how to do this," he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. "i don't know how to be okay with this."

"you don't have to be okay with it." you reached out and took his hand, threading your fingers through his. his hand was warm and rough from years of training and fighting, but it shook slightly in yours. "nobody expects you to be okay right now."

"my father needs me to be strong. the clan needs—"

"the clan needs you to grieve," you cut him off. "you can't be strong if you don't let yourself feel this. trust me, i learned that the hard way."

he looked at you with a question in his eyes, and you sighed.

"when my grandmother died, i tried to just keep going like nothing happened. thought that was what i was supposed to do, you know? keep swimming, keep hunting, keep pretending everything was fine. but it wasn't fine, and i wasn't fine, and eventually i just... broke. had a complete meltdown in the middle of reef training and freaked everyone out." you squeezed his hand. "your mom actually helped me through it. she sat with me for hours, let me cry, told me stories about my grandmother. she said grief was like the ocean - you couldn't fight it, you just had to learn to swim with it."

aonung's breath caught. "that sounds like something she'd say."

"she was wise. and kind. and scary when she needed to be." you smiled despite the tears in your own eyes. "remember when the sully kids first showed up and you were being a complete skxawng to them?"

"i was not—"

"you called lo'ak a freak and made fun of his hands."

"okay, that was bad," he admitted. "but in my defense, i was being protective of the clan."

"you were being a bully."

"same thing."

"not even close." you shook your head. "but your mom shut that down real quick. i've never seen you look so scared as when she called you out in front of everyone. even though she didn’t like them either."

"she had a way of making you feel about two inches tall when you disappointed her." he looked down at your joined hands. "but also like you were the most important person in the world when you made her proud."

"you made her proud," you said firmly. "in the battle, the way you fought, the way you protected tsireya and your father. she saw that. i know she did."

"how do you know?"

"because i saw her face right before... before." you had to swallow hard. "she was looking at you and tsireya, and she was smiling. even in the middle of all that chaos, she was proud of her kids."

aonung's face crumpled, and then he was crying, really crying, the kind of deep sobs that shook his whole body. you pulled him toward you and he came easily, burying his face against your shoulder while you held him. his ilu swam closer, making worried sounds, and you reached out with one hand to calm it while keeping the other wrapped around aonung.

"it's not fair," he gasped out between sobs. "none of this is fair. the ash people turning away from eywa because of some volcano, quaritch and his stupid revenge, the rda and their factory ships. why can't they just leave us alone? why does there always have to be another war?"

"i don't know," you said honestly, your own tears falling into his hair. "i wish i had an answer. i wish i could fix this."

"you can't fix this. nobody can."

"i know. but i can sit here with you. i can remind you that you're not alone." you pressed your cheek against the top of his head. "i can tell you that your mom loved you more than anything, and that love doesn't just disappear. it's still here. it's in you and tsireya and baby prill. it's in every person she healed, every tradition she kept alive, every story she told."

"that's very poetic," he mumbled against your shoulder. "did you prepare that speech?"

"shut up, i'm trying to be comforting."

"it's working." he pulled back a little, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. "sorry for getting your shoulder all wet."

"we're literally sitting in the ocean, i think i'll survive a few tears."

he laughed weakly, and eywa, you'd missed that sound. it felt like forever since anyone had laughed.

"have you seen prill yet?" you asked gently.

he shook his head. "i can't. every time i look at her, all i see is... i see my mom, and then i remember she's gone, and—"

"prill needs you," you said softly. "she needs her big brother. and i know it hurts, i know every time you look at her you're going to think about what you lost. but aonung, she's also everything your mom fought for. she's proof that life goes on, that love goes on. even after everything with varang and the ash people, even after quaritch and the rda, life found a way."

"you sound like jake sully."

"i've been spending too much time around the sullys. lo'ak's tulkun bonding stuff is rubbing off on me." you paused. "speaking of which, can you believe lo'ak got the tulkun to join the fight? that boy might be reckless but he's got heart."

"he's still annoying."

"you like him."

"i tolerate him."

"you literally saved his life during the battle."

"that was tactical. needed him alive to keep the tulkun fighting."

"sure it was." you smiled. "admit it, you've gotten soft. the forest boy grew on you."

"like a fungus," aonung grumbled, but there was no real heat in it. he'd actually become friends with lo'ak over the past months, bonding over being the older siblings who were expected to be perfect while their younger sisters got to be special.

well, in tsireya's case she was perfect. but still.

"kiri's powers were crazy though," you said, trying to keep the conversation going, to distract him from the grief. "did you see the way she made the tsyong fight during the battle? it was like eywa herself was fighting with us."

"it was weird," aonung said. "but it worked. that tsyong attack probably saved a ton of lives."

"and spider breathing without his mask now? that's going to change everything. if kiri can do that for others—"

"that's a big if. and knowing spider, he'll find some way to make it complicated." aonung shifted, pulling his feet out of the water. "but yeah, it was pretty incredible. the whole battle was... i've never seen anything like it."

"toruk makto rising again," you said softly. "my grandmother used to tell stories about the last time someone rode the last shadow. never thought i'd see it myself."

"jake sully is either the bravest person on pandora or the most insane."

"probably both."

aonung was quiet for a moment, staring out at the dark water. the moons were rising, throwing silver light across the waves, and somewhere in the distance you could hear some night creature calling.

"do you think she suffered?" he asked suddenly. "my mom. do you think it hurt?"

you wanted to lie, wanted to tell him it was instant and painless. but aonung deserved the truth, and he'd know if you were lying anyway.

"i don't know," you said carefully. "but i know she was fighting until the end. i know she was protecting prill and your father and all of us. whatever she felt, it was worth it to her. you were worth it to her."

he nodded slowly, working through that. his jaw clenched and unclenched, dealing with emotions you couldn't even begin to untangle.

"i should go see prill," he said finally. "you're right. she needs family."

"do you want me to come with you?"

he turned to look at you, really look at you, and something in his face made your heart skip. there was grief there, yeah, but also gratitude and something else, something softer that you weren't quite ready to name.

"yeah," he said quietly. "i'd like that."

you stood together, brushing sand off your legs. aonung's ilu swam up, ready to take him back to the village, but he ignored it for a moment and just looked at you.

"thank you," he said. "for finding me. for... for this."

"always," you said, meaning it with everything in you. "you don't have to go through this alone, aonung. none of us do."

he reached out and pulled you into a hug, sudden and fierce and desperate. you hugged him back just as tight, feeling his heart beating against your chest, his breath warm against your neck.

"i don't know what i'd do without you," he said into your hair.

"lucky for you, you'll never have to find out."

when you finally pulled apart and got on your ilus to head back to the village, something had shifted between you. the grief was still there, raw and painful and too much, but it felt more bearable somehow. shared.

the village was settling in for the night when you got there, families gathering in their maruis, the wounded being helped, the dead being mourned. tonowari's marui glowed with soft light, and you could hear baby prill crying before you even got off your ilu.

aonung hesitated at the entrance, his hand on the woven doorway. you gave him an encouraging nod, and together you stepped inside.

tonowari was sitting on the floor, holding prill against his chest and swaying gently. he looked up when you came in, and the grief in his eyes was overwhelming. but when he saw aonung, something softened.

"my son," he said quietly.

"father." aonung's voice cracked. "i'm sorry. i'm sorry i ran off. i should have been here, i should have—"

"you are here now. that is what matters." tonowari held out one arm, and aonung went to him, kneeling next to his father and baby sister. "would you like to hold her?"

aonung looked terrified, but he nodded. tonowari carefully handed prill to aonung, showing him how to support her head, and for a moment the tiny baby stopped crying. she looked up at her brother with unfocused eyes, one tiny hand reaching up to grab at his face.

"she's so small," aonung breathed.

"you were this small once," tonowari said, a sad smile on his face. "your mother used to say you had the strongest grip she'd ever felt. said you'd be a great warrior one day."

"was she right?"

"see for yourself. you fought bravely. made her proud." tonowari's voice got thick. "made me proud."

tsireya came in then, her eyes red from crying but her face determined. she saw aonung holding prill and her expression crumpled with relief.

"you came back," she said.

"where else would i go?" aonung asked, looking up at his sister. "this is our family. we face this together."

tsireya came and sat next to him, leaning her head on his shoulder and reaching out to stroke prill's soft hair. you stayed near the entrance, feeling like you were intruding on a family moment, but tonowari gestured for you to come closer.

"you are always welcome here," he said warmly. "you brought my son home. that is no small thing."

"he would have come back on his own eventually," you said. "he just needed time."

"she is a demon," ronal had said, pointing at you with the kind of disdain usually reserved for week-old fish. "she does not belong here."

"she's a child," jake said firmly. "and she stays with us."

neytiri hadn't said anything. she'd just looked at you with those eyes that used to be warm and were now cold as ice. you didn't blame her. you caused them to be outcasted even more.

learning the way of water was hard. harder than it should've been, because you had to do everything with the mask on, which meant you couldn't dive as deep or stay under as long. tsireya was patient, though. she taught you and the sully kids how to hold your breath, how to swim properly, how to bond with the ilus.

and that's when you started noticing her and lo'ak.

they were always together. she was always smiling at him, touching his hand to correct his signing, laughing when he did something stupid (which was often). and lo'ak—lo'ak looked at her like she hung the moon.

you told yourself it was fine. it made sense. she was beautiful and kind and na'vi. you were human and awkward and still struggling to ride an ilu without falling off. of course he'd like her.

but it still hurt.

"you're doing that thing again," kiri said one day, floating next to you in the water. "the broody staring thing."

"i don't brood," you muttered.

"you literally haven't blinked in like two minutes. you're watching lo'ak and tsireya like you're planning a murder-suicide."

"i'm not—" you sighed, letting yourself sink a little lower in the water. "it doesn't matter. he likes her. she likes him. i'm just the weird human girl who can't even breathe the air."

kiri was quiet for a moment, treading water beside you. "you know lo'ak is an idiot, right? like, genuinely stupid when it comes to feelings."

"gee, thanks, that makes me feel so much better."

"i'm serious. he thinks you hate him."

you turned to stare at her. "what? why would he think that?"

"because you avoid him like he has a contagious disease? because you barely talk to him anymore?" kiri raised an eyebrow. "you used to hang out all the time back in the forest. now you act like being near him physically pains you."

"that's because it does," you admitted quietly. "not because i hate him. because i—" you stopped, feeling your face heat up behind the mask. "never mind."

kiri's expression softened. "oh. oh. you like him."

"can we please not talk about this?"

"we're absolutely talking about this." kiri grabbed your arm, pulling you toward the shore. "come on. we're fixing this."

"kiri, no—"

but kiri was surprisingly strong for someone who looked like she survived on vibes, and you were dragged to the beach where tuk was building something out of sand and shells.

"tuk," kiri said seriously. "we have a mission."

tuk looked up, eyes bright. "a secret mission?"

"the most secret. we need to get lo'ak and y/n to actually talk to each other like normal people."

"ooh!" tuk clapped her hands. "like how mom and dad fell in love!"

"exactly like that but with less war and death, hopefully."

"i'm right here," you said flatly. "and i can hear you. and this is a terrible idea."

"all the best ideas are terrible," kiri said cheerfully. "that's how you know they'll work."

honestly, you should've known the sully sisters would be chaos incarnate when they teamed up.

their "plan" involved tuk very loudly announcing at dinner that night that she needed help finding a special shell for her collection, and could lo'ak and y/n please go look for it together because everyone else was busy?

it was the least subtle thing you'd ever witnessed.

jake looked confused. neytiri looked suspicious. lo'ak looked like he'd just been told to swim with an akula. and you wanted to sink through the floor.

"uh," lo'ak said eloquently. "sure?"

which is how you ended up walking along the beach at sunset with lo'ak, both of you painfully aware that this was a setup and neither of you willing to acknowledge it.

"so," lo'ak said after five minutes of agonizing silence. "shells."

"yep. shells."

"tuk really likes shells."

"she really does."

more silence. you wanted to scream.

"look," lo'ak said finally, stopping to face you. "did i do something? to make you mad or whatever? because you've been avoiding me for weeks and i don't know what i did wrong."

you blinked at him. "you didn't do anything wrong."

"then why won't you talk to me anymore? we used to—i mean, back in the forest, we were friends. and now you look at me like you're trying to figure out how to escape whatever room i'm in."

guilt crashed over you in a wave. harder than the actual waves you’ve been hit by. "lo'ak, no. that's not—i'm not trying to avoid you because i'm mad at you."

"then why?"

you looked down at the sand, at the way the bioluminescent waves were starting to glow as the sun dipped below the horizon. "because it's easier than watching you with tsireya and pretending it doesn't bother me."

the silence that followed was so heavy you could've drowned in it.

"wait," lo'ak said slowly. "you're jealous? of tsireya?"

"i'm not—okay, yes. fine. i'm jealous." you forced yourself to look at him. "she's perfect, lo'ak. she's na'vi, she belongs here, she can actually breathe without a stupid mask. and she's nice and pretty and you look at her like—" your voice cracked. "like how i wish you'd look at me."

lo'ak stared at you like you'd just grown a second head. "are you insane?"

"excuse me?"

"y/n, i don't like tsireya. she's great, but she's like—she's like a teacher. or a nice older sister or something. i don't like her like that."

"but you're always together—"

"because she's teaching me! because i'm the idiot who can't swim or sign or do literally anything right!" he ran a hand through his braids, looking frustrated. "and you—you've been avoiding me, and i thought it was because you finally realized what everyone else knows. that i'm the screw-up. the disappointing son. the one who got his brother killed—"

"lo'ak, stop." you grabbed his arm without thinking. "neteyam's death wasn't your fault. and you're not a screw-up. you're brave and loyal and you care so much about everyone even when they don't deserve it. you're—" you took a shaky breath. "you're kind of amazing, actually. which is really inconvenient for me because i've been trying really hard not to like you."

his ears perked up. "trying not to like me?"

"i'm human, lo'ak. your mom already hates humans because of what happened to neteyam. and i'm not even—i can't breathe here without this thing—" you tapped your mask. "spider got his whole wish granted, he can breathe now because of kiri's magic plant stuff. but i'm still stuck like this. i don't belong with your family. i don't belong anywhere."

"that's bullshit," lo'ak said firmly. "my dad was human once. spider's human—well, was fully human. you're part of this family just as much as anyone else."

"your mom doesn't think so."

"my mom is dealing with a lot of grief and anger, and yeah, she's taking it out on the wrong people sometimes. but she'll come around. and even if she doesn't—" he stepped closer. "even if she doesn't, i don't care. i like you. i've liked you since we were kids and you punched that one kid for making fun of my hands."

you couldn't help but laugh. "he deserved it. your hands are perfect."

"see, this is what i'm talking about. you get it. you get me." his expression softened. "and for the record? i think your mask is kind of cute. like a little cage for your head."

"oh my god, that's the worst compliment i've ever received."

"i'm bad at this!" he laughed, and the sound made your chest feel warm. "i'm trying to tell you that i don't care about the mask or the human thing or any of it. i just care about you."

you felt tears starting to well up, which was annoying because crying in a mask was uncomfortable and also you didn't want to be that person. "lo'ak..."

"we're both outcasts," he said quietly. "we're both the ones who don't quite fit. so maybe we fit together, you know?"

before you could overthink it, you reached up and pulled him down—he had to crouch quite a bit, because na'vi were ridiculously tall—and pressed your mask against his forehead in the closest approximation of a kiss you could manage.

"this is really awkward," you whispered.

"yeah," he agreed, but he was grinning so wide you could see all his teeth. "but we'll figure it out."

and then, because the universe had perfect timing, tuk's voice rang out across the beach: "i found them! they're kissing! kiri, your plan worked!"

you pulled back to see the entire sully family standing there. jake looked amused. kiri looked smug. tuk was literally jumping up and down. and neytiri—

neytiri's expression was complicated. not quite angry, but not happy either. she looked at you for a long moment, then at lo'ak, then back to you.

"if you hurt my son," she said carefully, "mask or no mask, i will feed you to a akula."

it wasn't acceptance. but it wasn't complete rejection either. it was something.

"yes ma'am," you managed.

jake cleared his throat. "well, this is... unexpected. but nice? yeah. nice." he looked at neytiri. "right?"

neytiri sighed deeply. "my son chooses a human. of course he does. he is exactly like his father."

"is that a yes?" lo'ak asked hopefully.

"it is a 'we will discuss this later and if she makes you happy then i will try.'" neytiri's expression softened just slightly. "your brother would loved this. he always said she had a strong heart."

and that—that broke something open in your chest. because neteyam had been kind to you, in the quiet way he was kind to everyone. and knowing that he'd thought that about you, even when you felt invisible—

you were definitely crying now.

"okay, this is getting too emotional," kiri announced. "can we go eat? i'm starving."

"you're always starving," lo'ak said, but he was still holding your hand.

"lunch only goes so far, baby brother."

as the family started heading back toward the village, lo'ak tugged you back for a moment.

"hey," he said softly. "we're gonna figure this out. all of it. the mask thing, the family thing, everything. together."

"together," you repeated, and for the first time since spider got taken, since you came to this reef, since everything went wrong—you actually believed things might be okay.

you were still an outcast. he was still the "disappointing" son. you still didn't quite fit anywhere.

but maybe that was the point. maybe you didn't need to fit. maybe you just needed each other.

(and if tsireya gave you a knowing smile the next day during lessons, and if rotxo made gagging noises whenever you and lo'ak held hands, and if aonung looked personally offended that his sister's student was dating a human—well. that was just part of the deal.)

later, after everything with the ash people and the war and ronal's death and all the trauma that would take years to unpack, spider finally came back. and the first thing he said when he saw you and lo'ak together was: "seriously? i get kidnapped and experimented on and you use that time to get a boyfriend?"

"i missed you too, brother," you said dryly.

"yeah, yeah. i missed you too." he pulled you into a hug, mask clinking against mask. "but we're gonna have a long talk about your taste in men."

"your best friend is literally a na'vi," lo'ak pointed out.

"exactly. i know what i'm talking about. you guys are all crazy."

and despite everything—despite the war and the loss and the grief and the uncertainty—you laughed. because you had your twin back, you had lo'ak, you had this weird chaotic family that didn't always know what to do with you but kept you anyway.

you still didn't quite belong. but maybe belonging was overrated anyway.

that was the first time. the first fight, the first hostage situation, whatever you want to call it when armed na'vi corner a bunch of kids trying to get home.

you were there when they surrounded them: kiri, tuk, spider, and lo'ak. they'd been spotted by some of your clan while trying to make their way back to the forest, and honestly, they hadn't stood a chance. spider had just figured out how to breathe without his mask—something about adapting, evolving, you weren't really paying attention to the details because you were too busy watching the way lo'ak kept positioning himself between his sisters and the ash people guarding them.

varang had them huddled them together, on their knees, with one person holding them. she was asking them questions about the human weapons, how they worked, how to use them against the sky people. quaritch was there too, showing her the mechanisms, the triggers, the reload systems. you stood guard near the entrance, watching, listening, trying not to think about how young tuk looked, how scared. jake sully was also brought in with quaritch, attacked first but ended up getting tied up as well.

you were supposed to be watching them. all of them. making sure nobody tried anything. but when lo'ak looked directly at you and said, "you don't have to do this, you know," something in your chest cracked a little.

"i'm just doing my job," you whispered back, quiet enough that the others wouldn't hear.

"your job is tying up kids?" he shot back, and yeah, okay, when he put it like that it sounded pretty bad.

you didn't respond. didn't know how to. but when kiri started calling on eywa, when the connection started knocking out some of your people like they'd been hit with sleep darts, you maybe didn't raise the alarm as fast as you could have. and when you saw them starting to slip their bonds, you passed them a knife, you maybe took a little longer than necessary to "notice."

they escaped to a pond, disappeared into the waterways that ran beneath the trees. you stayed behind, blending back in with your family, with the ash people, pretending you hadn't seen anything. pretending your hands weren't shaking.

you thought that would be the end of it. that you'd go back to your life, that everything would go back to normal. but then came the second fight.

the metkayina, the water clan, were supposed to be safe. far enough from the conflict, neutral ground. but the sky people didn't care about neutral ground. they came for the tulkun, for profit, for resources, for whatever humans always came for. and when the clans fought back—metkayina, omatikaya, tlalim, all of them together—it should have been enough.

but then the eclipse started, and the ash people arrived.

you came with your parents, with your clan, with quaritch leading the way. the plan was simple: provide backup, secure the area, help quaritch get what he wanted. you told yourself it was just another mission. just another fight.

but then quaritch captured neytiri and tuk.

it was dark by then, the kind of darkness that comes during eclipse when even the luminous sands seems dimmed. you were on one of the bigger ships, the main one, watching as quaritch held neytiri with a knife to her throat, tuk crying beside her. neytiri had a baby in a carrier on her chest—ronal's baby, you learned later, because of course neytiri sully would be protecting someone else's child even while her own life was threatened.

quaritch was talking through the throat comm to jake, his voice all cold and controlled. he wanted spider. trade the kid for his family. simple.

you stood with the other ash people, weapon ready, trying not to look at tuk's face. trying not to think about how this was somebody's little sister, somebody's daughter.

the water was chaos around you. the tulkun were fighting back, massive and furious. toruk makto—jake on his giant red ikran—threw something at the ship, some piece of sky people tech, and it exploded on impact. the blast knocked you sideways, sent half the ash people sprawling. your ears rang. smoke everywhere, mixing with sea spray, making it hard to see, hard to breathe.

spider walked up onto the deck. you could barely see him through the smoke, but you heard his voice: "let them go. i'll go with you. just let them go."

quaritch considered it. told the ash people to circle up, they were leaving. your people raised their weapons, aiming at spider as he walked forward. you raised yours too, because what else were you supposed to do? but your hands were shaking again and you couldn't stop thinking about that first cave, about lo'ak saying *you don't have to do this*.

then jake came out of nowhere, literally leaping onto one of the older ash people and taking down two others in the process. everything erupted. lo'ak was suddenly there, shooting bullets at three of your people who were near neytiri and tuk. you watched his face, the desperate concentration, the fear.

he didn't shoot you. you were right there, weapon raised, clearly a target. but he looked at you and something passed between you—recognition, maybe, or memory—and he turned to the others instead.

you made your choice in that split second. you bent down, moving to neytiri, hands already working at her bonds. "go," you hissed, barely audible over the fighting. "take your daughter and go."

neytiri stared at you for a heartbeat, clearly debating whether to stab you or trust you. then tuk said, "she helped us before, mama," and that decided it. the ropes came loose and they ran, tuk's hand in her mother's, the baby carrier bouncing against neytiri's chest.

varang saw them jump. of course she did. she went after them, furious, betrayed. you moved to stop her but kiri was already there, queue connecting to varang, to eywa, to whatever power ran through this place. the distraction was enough. neytiri and tuk disappeared into the chaos below.

you made sure they landed safely. dove off the ship yourself, ignoring the shouts behind you, and guided them to a safer platform. "go," you told neytiri again. "i'll hold them off."

"why are you doing this?" she demanded, eyes fierce even in her gratitude.

"because it's right," you said, and weirdly, you meant it. "now go."

they went. you climbed back up onto, ready to face whatever came next. but everything was falling apart. jake and quaritch were fighting over spider, while the ship was also being pulled toward something—the flux devil, someone shouted, and you didn't know what that meant but it sounded bad. everyone was running for their ikrans, scrambling to escape.

you found your ikran, called for it, searching desperately for your parents in the chaos. smoke everywhere. people screaming. the ship groaning as it was dragged toward the center of whatever that swirling thing was.

you couldn't find them. you called and called, flew in circles, but there were too many ikrans in the air, too much confusion. eventually, you had to pull away. had to survive. had to hope they'd made it out too.

they hadn't.

you found out three days later, when the ash clan sent word that they were counting their losses. your parents had been on the lower decks when the ship went down. they hadn't made it to their ikrans in time.

you were alone. completely, utterly alone. the ash clan was scattered, most of them dead or fled back to the volcanic lands. you couldn't go back there. not after what you'd done, helping the sullys, betraying your own people. varang would have you executed if she ever saw you again.

so you did the only thing you could think of. you flew to the metkayina village, landed on the beach, and waited.

the sullys found you before anyone else did. jake approached carefully, weapon ready but not raised. "you're the one who helped neytiri and tuk."

"i am," you said. your voice sounded hollow to your own ears.

"and before that. in the forest. you helped us escape then too."

"i did."

he studied you for a long moment. "why?"

"my parents are dead," you said, instead of answering. "my clan is gone. i have nowhere else to go." you straightened your spine, met his eyes. "i'm asking for refuge."

neytiri stepped up beside him. she didn't look happy, but she didn't look murderous either. "you helped my children. twice. you put yourself at risk for them."

"i did what was right," you said quietly.

"what was right," neytiri repeated, something shifting in her expression. then: "you can stay. trial basis. one wrong move—"

"i know," you said. "thank you."

tuk pushed past her parents and hugged you before anyone could stop her. "thank you for saving us," she said into your stomach, and you felt something crack open in your chest. you hugged her back, careful, and tried not to cry.

lo'ak was watching from a few feet away. when you caught his eye, he smiled. just a little. just enough.

turns out, learning to live with the water clan when you grew up in a volcano is harder than it sounds. everything was wet. everything. you were used to heat and dryness and the solid reliability of stone. here, everything moved. the water, the beach, even the ground beneath the village seemed to shift with the tides.

and you were terrible at swimming. embarrassingly terrible. you could ride an ikran through a volcanic storm but put you in water deeper than your waist and you panicked. the metkayina kids thought it was hilarious. you tried not to take it personally.

lo'ak helped. he showed up one morning while you were struggling with a fishing net and said, "want some help?"

"i can figure it out," you said, even though you very clearly could not figure it out.

"okay," he said, and then just stood there watching you struggle for another minute before adding, "you know, it's easier if you don't tie yourself into the net."

"i'm not—" you looked down. you had definitely tied yourself into the net. "shut up."

he laughed and helped untangle you. his hands were careful, patient. "swimming lesson later?" he offered.

"i don't need—"

"you almost drowned yesterday trying to collect shells."

"that was one time!"

"one time is all it takes," he said, grinning, and you wanted to be annoyed but his smile made your stomach do weird flips.

the swimming lessons became a regular thing. then they became "let me show you where the good fish are" and "want to see the cove where the things glow at night" and somehow, somewhere along the way, they stopped being lessons and started being... something else.

you learned things about him. how he'd lost his older brother neteyam in the last big battle with the sky people, how it had changed him, made him more cautious in some ways and more reckless in others. how he blamed himself even though everyone told him it wasn't his fault. how he carried that grief around like a stone in his chest.

"i'm the family disappointment," he told you one night, sitting on a rock near the water. "always have been. neteyam was the perfect son, the perfect warrior. i'm just... the screw up who can't follow orders."

"you saved your family," you pointed out. "multiple times. that's not a screwup."

"yeah, well. i also put them in danger multiple times, so it kind of evens out."

"lo'ak—"

"it's fine," he said quickly. "i'm fine. i just... sometimes i wonder if things would be better if it had been me instead. if neteyam had lived and i'd...”

"don't," you said sharply. "don't finish that sentence."

he looked at you, surprised by your intensity.

"the world needs you in it," you said firmly. "your family needs you. tuk needs you." you paused, then added quietly, "i need you."

his eyes widened. "you... what?"

"i need you," you repeated, feeling your face heat up. "you’re the first person here who treated me like i wasn't just a former enemy. you're the first person who made me feel like maybe i could actually belong somewhere again. so yeah. i need you. the world needs you. stop talking like you're expendable because you're not."

lo'ak stared at you for a long moment. then he smiled, the real smile, the one that made his whole face light up. "okay," he said softly. "okay."

you learned things about yourself too. like how you didn't actually hate water once you got used to it. how the forest ways were different from the ash ways but not worse, just different. how the metkayina had their own kind of strength, their own kind of fire, it just looked like water instead of lava.

kiri taught you about eywa, about the connections between all living things. it was weird at first, coming from a clan that believed in strength and survival above all else. but there was something beautiful about it too. something that made sense in a way your old beliefs never quite had.

spider taught you human words, even though you kept forgetting them. "it's called a 'high five,'" he explained, holding up his hand.

"that's a terrible name," you said. "why is it called that?"

"because you have five fingers and you—look, just slap my hand."

you slapped his hand so hard he yelped. "ow! not that hard!"

"you said to slap it!"

"i meant gently!"

"then you should have said 'gentle five,'" you pointed out, and lo'ak, who was watching nearby, laughed so hard he nearly fell over.

tuk appointed herself your personal guide, dragging you around the village and showing you everything. "this is where we dry the fish," she'd say, "and this is where tsireya teaches the little kids to swim, and this is where i found a really cool shell, do you want to see my shell collection?"

you always said yes to the shell collection. tuk's enthusiasm was infectious, and besides, she was the reason neytiri had trusted you that first day. you owed her everything.

jake taught you the warrior ways of the omatikaya, which were different from both the ash people and the metkayina. "we adapt," he explained. "we learn from every clan we meet. forest, water, sky—doesn't matter. if it works, we use it."

"sounds complicated," you said, trying to copy his stance and failing.

"it is," he agreed. "but it keeps us alive." he adjusted your grip on the bow. "you've got good instincts. you just need to stop thinking like an ash person and start thinking like... well, like yourself."

"what if i don't know who that is anymore?"

jake smiled, and it was kind. "then i guess you get to figure it out. that's the fun part."

neytiri took longer to warm up to you. she'd watch you with tuk and her expression would be unreadable. but one day, she pulled you aside and said, "you put yourself between my daughters and danger. twice. that means something."

"i just did what was right," you said, which seemed to be your default answer for everything these days.

"that is more than most would do," neytiri said. "you chose my family over your own people. over your own parents." her eyes softened slightly. "i am sorry for your loss. i know what it is to lose family."

"thank you," you managed. your throat felt tight.

"you are sully now," neytiri continued. "if you want to be. we do not abandon our own."

you absolutely did not cry. you just got something in your eye. from the ocean. which was right there. very convenient for explaining the wetness on your face.

lo'ak found you later, sitting alone on the beach and definitely not crying some more. he sat down next to you without a word, close enough that your shoulders touched.

"your mom said i'm sully now," you said after a while.

"yeah," he said. "that's kind of a big deal. she doesn't say that to just anyone."

"i don't even know what it means to be sully. i don't know your customs, your traditions. i still can't swim properly. i can't connect to the spirit tree because i'm not—i'm not from here."

"hey," lo'ak said, turning to face you. "being sully isn't about where you're from. it's about who you choose to be. you chose us. you chose to help us even when it meant losing everything. that's what makes you family."

"lo'ak—"

"and for the record," he continued, "you're learning. you're trying. that's all anyone can ask." he paused, then added with a small smile, "plus, you're way better at swimming than you were a month ago. you only almost drowned once this week."

you shoved him, but you were smiling. "shut up."

"make me," he said, grinning back.

so you kissed him.

it wasn't planned. you just leaned in and pressed your lips to his, and he made this surprised noise and then kissed you back, gentle and careful like he was afraid you'd disappear if he held on too tight.

when you pulled back, he was staring at you with wide eyes. "i—what—we just—”

"yes," you confirmed.

"can we do that again?" he asked hopefully.

you laughed and kissed him again, and this time it was easier, sweeter. his hand came up to cup your face and you felt warm all over, the kind of warmth that had nothing to do with volcanic fire and everything to do with the boy in front of you.

"i see you," lo'ak whispered when you finally broke apart. "i see you, and i—i think i've been seeing you since that first day you arrived. i know this is fast, and maybe it's too soon, but i need you to know that i—"

"i see you too," you interrupted, because if you didn't say it now you might lose your nerve. "i see you, lo'ak. i see how brave you are, how kind, how you love your family so much it scares you. i see how you blame yourself for things that aren't your fault, and how you're trying so hard to be better, to be enough. and you are enough. you've always been enough."

his eyes were bright with unshed tears. "you really mean that?"

"yeah," you said. "i really do."

he pulled you into a hug, tight and fierce, and you held him back just as hard. you could feel his heartbeat against your chest, quick and strong. you matched your breathing to his and thought about how strange it was, that you'd started in fire and ash and somehow ended up here, in his arms, in the water, in a family that wasn't yours by blood but was yours by choice.

tuk found you two like that and immediately started making exaggerated kissing noises. "lo'ak and y/n sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i—"

"tuk, i will throw you in the ocean," lo'ak threatened, but he was laughing.

"you can't throw me, i'm baby," tuk said smugly.

"you're ten!"

"baby!" tuk insisted, and then ran off giggling before lo'ak could make good on his threat.

kiri appeared a moment later, smirking. "so. you two finally figured it out."

"figured what out?" you asked innocently.

"please. lo'ak's been following you around like a lost puppy for weeks. it was painful to watch."

"i have not!" lo'ak protested.

"you literally tripped over a rock yesterday because you were too busy staring at her."

"that rock came out of nowhere!"

"it was a very large, stationary rock, lo'ak."

you dissolved into laughter, leaning against lo'ak's shoulder. he grumbled but wrapped an arm around you, and you felt something settle in your chest. peace, maybe. or belonging. or home.

the next few months were spent learning. really learning, not just surviving. you learned the water clan's way of breathing, of moving through the ocean like you were part of it. you learned the forest clan's way of seeing, of connecting to eywa and feeling the life that pulsed through everything. you learned the omatikaya songs, the metkayina dances, the stories that both clans passed down through generations.

you taught them things too. showed them how ash people could use volcanic glass to make sharper weapons. how to read the air currents the way you'd learned in the volcanic lands. how to survive in heat that would kill most na'vi.

"why would we need to survive in that kind of heat?" tsireya asked once, genuinely curious.

"you probably won't," you admitted. "but it's good to know anyway. you never know where you'll end up."

you never expected to end up here, after all. but here you were.

lo'ak took you to the spirit tree one night, the one that grew in the cove of the ancestors. "i want to show you something," he said, and led you down into the water.

you were nervous. you'd heard about this place, about the connection you could make with eywa, but you'd never tried it yourself. what if it didn't work? what if eywa rejected you because you were ash clan, because of what you'd done?

"hey," lo'ak said, noticing your hesitation. "it's okay. eywa doesn't judge. she just... is. she sees all of us. she'll see you too."

"what if i'm not worthy?"

"you are," he said firmly. "trust me."

you took a deep breath and dove down with him, following him to the glowing tree. its tendrils waved gently in the current, beautiful and otherworldly. lo'ak took your hand and guided your queue to one of the tendrils.

the connection hit you like a wave. suddenly you could feel everything—the water, the life in it, the planet's heartbeat thrumming through your veins. you saw flashes of memory, but not your own. your parents, smiling. the ash clan before the war, before everything went wrong. children playing in the volcanic fields, safe and happy.

and you saw lo'ak, through eywa's eyes. saw how he saw you: brave and strong and trying so hard. saw how much he cared, how much he worried, how much he loved—

you gasped and broke the connection, floating back. lo'ak was right there, steadying you. "you okay?"

"i saw—" you started, then stopped. "i saw everything."

"yeah," he said softly. "that's eywa. she shows you what you need to see."

"i saw how you see me," you said. "lo'ak, i—"

"i meant everything i said before," he interrupted. "and everything i didn't say. all of it. i—i love you. i know it's fast and i know we're young but i can't help it. i love you."

your heart felt too big for your chest. "i love you too," you said, and watched his face transform with joy.

he kissed you there in the water, surrounded by the glow of the spirit tree, and you thought that this was what coming home felt like. not a place, not a clan, but a person. this person.

when you surfaced, tuk was waiting on the shore with kiri and spider. "did you kiss again?" tuk demanded. "kiri said you were probably kissing."

"tuk!" kiri hissed.

"what? you did say that!"

lo'ak groaned and you laughed, and everything felt right. felt perfect. felt like exactly where you were supposed to be.

you still had hard days. days where you missed your parents so much it physically hurt. days where you felt like an outsider, like you were pretending to be something you weren't. days where the old guilt crept in, reminding you of the people you'd hurt, the side you'd fought on.

but you also had good days. days where tuk dragged you to see her newest shell discovery. days where kiri taught you a new song. days where spider taught you increasingly ridiculous human phrases that you'd use at inappropriate times that made lo'ak laugh. days where neytiri complimented your weaving or jake praised your aim.

and you had lo'ak, always lo'ak, patient and kind and occasionally infuriating when he got that reckless look in his eyes that meant he was about to do something stupid.

"we should go explore that cave system," he said one morning.

"the one that's supposed to be incredibly dangerous and that your parents explicitly forbade us from going near?" you asked.

"that's the one!"

"absolutely not."

"aw, come on—"

"lo'ak, i love you, but i'm not dying in a cave because you got curious."

"you love me?" he said, immediately distracted, grinning like an idiot.

"i literally told you that yesterday."

"yeah, but it's nice to hear it again."

you rolled your eyes but smiled. "i love you, you reckless disaster."

"i love you too," he said happily, and the cave system was forgotten. for now.

one year after you joined the sullys, jake called the family together. "we're going back to the forest," he announced. "the sky people have pulled back. it's time to go home."

home. the word felt complicated. the forest wasn't your home. the volcanic lands weren't your home anymore either. home was wherever the sullys were, wherever lo'ak was.

"you're coming with us, right?" tuk asked immediately, looking at you with worried eyes.

"if you'll have me," you said.

"of course we will," jake said. "you're family. family sticks together."

so you went to the forest. learned the ways of the omatikaya properly this time, not just the warrior training but everything. how to climb the trees, how to ride the pa'li, how to hunt with the clan, how to sing the songs at night.

you bonded with your own ikran, a fierce thing with dark scales that reminded you of volcanic glass. lo'ak named it "smokey" and you threatened to push him off a cliff. (you didn't, obviously. you loved him too much. but the threat stood.)

the forest was different from the water, which was different from the volcanic lands. but different wasn't bad. it was just... different. new. another thing to learn, another way to grow.

and you had lo'ak beside you the whole time, pointing out plants and telling terrible jokes and holding your hand when the memories got too heavy.

"you know," you told him one evening, sitting together in the trees, watching the sun set through the canopy, "when i was ash clan, i thought fire was the most beautiful thing in the world."

"and now?" he asked, tail curling around yours in that way that still made your heart skip.

"now i know i was wrong," you said, looking at him—at the way the fading light caught in his eyes, at the soft smile on his face, at the life you were building together. "this is."

he laughed, that bright, genuine laugh that you loved so much, and pulled you closer. "you're such a sap."

"you love it."

"yeah," he admitted, pressing a kiss to your temple. "i really do."

and sitting there in the trees, surrounded by green and growing things, with lo'ak's arms around you and his family—your family—nearby, you thought about how far you'd come. from fire and ash and destruction to this: peace and love and home.

it was a pretty good ending, all things considered.

or maybe, you thought as lo'ak kissed you again and tuk's voice rang out from below ("they're kissing again!"), it was just the beginning.