neteyam te suli tsyeyk’itan x fem!omaticaya!reader
tags: fluff/romance, angst if u squint
a/n: based on this ask!! thank u from this request anon, and thank u for your patience. Thai took way longer than it should have lol!! I’ve been a bit demotivated as of late 😔😔 oh well, I’m back to it now!! Liked and reblogs always appreciated, thank you for reading. Love you xx
You sped off into the woodland, your heart and feet thudding in tandem, eyes burning.
You were sick of it. Sick of the rumours that pulled your stomach into your throat the second anyone mentioned them. You were sick of the way that every day, someone else would come to you with new information that proved your chances with Neteyam were steadily falling away from you, like soil slipping through the cracks between your fingers.
You knew your chances were slim anyway. What, Toruk Makto's son, heir to the Olo'eyktan, having any interest in you? How ridiculous to even hope that was true. You were well aware it was unlikely you would end up as his mate, impossible, even. You did not regularly speak to him, only when he had been around whilst you and Kiri were hanging out. You weren't part of the same hunting party, and he was always far too busy to talk to or spend time with due to his countless duties and responsibilities within the clan. You were sure he didn't even know your last name.
That didn't stop it from hurting, though. When you'd first overheard whispers from the girls in your hunting party that Neteyam had found himself a mate, your arrow sank as you were jolted out of concentration, flying and missing the Yerik by a landslide.
Since then, as the rumours developed, spreading like a bad strain of the hunter's cough throughout the youth of the clan, it seemed the frivolous speculation had become something of fact, and the small pit of envy in your stomach had grown into unadulterated longing. Now you could no longer stand a conversation on the subject. And so, when your friends had begun giggling over the suggestion that Neteyam's mate was one of the most sought-after girls in the clan, you took refuge in the thick growth along the floors of the forest, where no one could see your shaking shoulders, or question your pitiful cries.
You stopped running abruptly, placing your hands on your weakening knees as you panted heavily, choking back a sob. The tears pricking in your eyes began to blur your vision, threatening to spill over as your resolve crumbled, buckling your knees, sending you sinking to the floor.
Why did it have to be this way? Why couldn't you be the one he looked at? Why did you have to be so unremarkable, so plain and boring? Why did Eywa seem to create you like you were an afterthought, like you were worth less to her than the other girls? It was all so unfair. Your whole life, you'd been in the background of all of your friends' achievements or their courtships, never having seen any of the sort yourself. It made you anxious. Anxious the Great Mother had forgotten you were there, anxious you had done something to offend her. Anxious you were simply not grateful enough, and you had brought this unexciting life upon yourself.
If you weren't hopeless before, you certainly were now.
You cried into the dirt, covering your mouth to muffle your sobs. It was all you could do.
Kiri brought her hand to a stop as she brushed the thick grass, opening her eyes as her trance was interrupted by the sound of an animal snuffling nearby. She sits up on her elbows, surveying the area around her to find the source of the sound, to no avail. As far as she could see was the dense greenery of the grasslands, the occasional bug crawling or flying across her vision. She stands up, moving in the direction of the noise to check, hoping the animal isn't in any kind of distress.
Kiri only has to take a few steps before she finds where the sound has been coming from, and it’s not from an animal. It's you, curled in on yourself, your thick mass of dark hair trembling as you sob dolefully into your hand. A look of concern crosses her face, and she steps forward tentatively.
She says your name quietly, as if trying not to startle you. "Are you alright? What's the matter?"
Your stomach tightens when you hear a familiar voice call for you, your upset being replaced with surprise and a horrid wave of embarrassment all at once. You whip up into a kneeling position, wiping away the streams of tears along your face hastily. "What? Yes, I'm... fine," you reply, your voice shrill as you try to conceal the thickness in it from crying. You attempt to look nonchalant, and fail.
Kiri's brow furrows. "Really? I mean, it sounded a lot like you were... crying,"
You sigh shakily to diffuse the growing ache in your chest. "Did it? Well... I wasn't,"
Kiri's suspicious look turns into one of disbelief. She raises a brow. "Wow. Then you really need to see the Tsahik, there must be something up with your voice,"
You simply sigh in response, looking away from her.
Before Kiri can decide if she should leave you alone or not, your facade crumbles and so does your expression, and the tears force their way up once again. You cover your face with your hands and slump, resting your elbows on your knees, as another pathetic sob racks through your frame. Kiri leaps down from the tree root she was perched on, and brings an arm around you.
"Hey, you can tell me what's wrong,"
You continue to sob. "It's stupid," you say through your hands, shaking your head.
"It can't be stupid if it's making you cry," Kiri replies gently.
You peel your hands from your face and they land in your lap defeatedly. You turn your head to look at Kiri through wet lashes, your expression depressed and shameful. Your eyes don't quite meet hers.
"Is it true that Neteyam's found a mate?" you ask timidly, face growing hot with indignity.
That's what's got you so upset? Her brother having a mate?
Part of her wants to laugh. Her stupid brother is that big of a deal to you that he's got you crying in the forest? It was almost silly to her. And where had you heard he'd found a mate? To Kiri, any girl who had interest in her brother must have some kind of mental illness, because it would take some serious chemical imbalance in the brain to make him appear desirable.
"What? Who- where'd you get that idea?" she questions, bewildered.
Your eyes widen, a flicker of hope passing through them, but it dies within the same second, as you crush it before it can grow. "Everyone's been saying he has,"
Kiri scoffs. "Who in their right mind would court Neteyam?"
From behind the trees, Neteyam freezes, arrow still poised in his bow, when he hears his name. He lowers them ever so slightly straining as he cranes his neck around the side of the tree in an attempt to listen in on the conversation.
Through the leaves, he can barely make out two figures on the grass, clearly discussing something. He narrows his eyes, focussing on them. His heart takes an unexpected leap into his throat when he realises one of the figures is you. With your shiny hair mussed and pulled away from your face, he can see your serene yet pained expression, tugging at your delicate features. You relay something to his sister, wiping at your wet cheeks and eyes, letting out another sob. His chest tightens a little, in both admiration and empathy. As beautiful as you are when you cry, he hates to see you do it. If he had his way, you'd never have any cause to cry again.
You give Kiri a sidelong glance. "Me?" you say, as if reiterating an obvious fact.
Kiri shakes her head, looking at you almost concerned. "Each to their own, I guess,"
"Kiri, don't," you implore. "I have not been able to stop thinking about your brother for weeks now, and this has been eating away at me. I know I stand no chance anyway, but it still hurts,"
"I mean, I understand why you'd be upset, but... Neteyam is... super lame. You're not exactly punching above your station with him,"
"Oh sure," you lament. "Neteyam, heir to the Olo'eyktan and eldest son of Toruk Makto, is in my league," you huff sarcastically, burying your face in your palms again.
Kiri sighs, turning to crouch directly in front of you, placing her hands on your shoulders.
"Look, I have absolutely no idea what you see in my brother at all, and, no offence, but I think you've got to be a little stupid to like him. But, what I think is even stupider, is that you assume you've got no chance with him. You are far prettier and more eligible than you think,"
You sigh heavily, not quite believing her, but still somewhat comforted.
She looks at you pointedly, giving you a little shake. "I'm serious,"
You roll your eyes. "I'd never have the courage to tell him,"
"When does anyone ever get anything, thinking that way?" she questions.
You furrow your brow defiantly, pouting as you fail to counter her point. You shrug.
Neteyam whips his head back around, eyes blown wide with shock.
There you sat, only a hundred metres away, confessing your love for him, to his sister. His heart pounded rapidly in his chest, his face grew hot, and his arms began to tremble slightly. All of those nights he'd laid awake, hoping and to Eywa that you would someday look his way, had finally manifested.
He swallows, trying to force the growing lump in his throat down. He could hardly believe what he'd heard.
Abandoning his hunt entirely, Neteyam withdrew his arrow from his bow and re-sheathed it, before hastily making his way down towards his family's mauri.
As nightfall came and went, you laid awake on your sleeping furs, tossing and turning as the seed of hope that Kiri had planted in your mind stubbornly took root. You still told yourself it was stupid to assume you stood a chance, despite what Kiri had told you. However, your gut twisted with anticipation all night. You tried your very best to ignore it, fearful of indulging in a delusion that had a high likelihood of being tragically crushed.
You sat up as soon as the sun began to lighten the sky, bored of feigning sleep to yourself. The conflicting emotions sat low in your belly, like a sickness swirling before it came up hours later. You decided the best thing you could do was distract yourself, and perhaps they'd process themselves on their own, and not force their way up your throat and out of your mouth, leaving you knelt on the forest floor again.
The day passed you by like an uninterested Prolemuris; as if you were not even there. You went about your duties amongst the clan, fulfilling your responsibilities as usual, reporting them back to your father, and it felt like you weren't present for any of it. You paid little attention to your surroundings at all, tangled in a mess of your own thoughts, as if ruminating would make you feel any better. It did not. If anything, you felt worse than you did before you spoke to Kiri, any semblance of hope being fought off by an equally growing fear, forcing you back into a bubble of insecurity that had grown even bigger than it was before.
By evening, your head was pulsing, a deep ache penetrating your skull and making it hard work to do anything other than sit with your head down in the mauris. But sitting with your head down meant not doing anything. And not doing anything meant thinking. And thinking wasn't doing anything for you right now.
You endeavoured to push through the pain, folding furs strewn around your sleeping quarters, helping your mother detangle the windchimes after the breeze had attacked them. But as you jumped to reach the storage shelf along the top of the mauris, it was like your brain had knocked against your skull. You came crashing to the floor, squeezing your eyes shut and digging the heels of your palms into them, trying to ease the harsh throbbing behind them.
"Ma'ite?" your mother called, concerned by the sudden thud from across the mauri.
"I'm okay!" you call back, rubbing your forehead.
Your mother pushes back the beads of the entrance to the mauri, peering over them and sighing when she sees you in a heap on the floor, the furs she had so meticulously brushed and folded strewn across the ground. She walks over to you, picking them up and huffing in annoyance.
"My child, what is the matter with you today? You have been moping around like you sense a storm coming,"
You groan in response, still massaging your forehead and temples.
"Are you ill?" she demands.
"Then what is it?" she questions further, bending down to your level, hand on her hip. "Hmm?"
Before you can muster an excuse, the deep timbre of your Father's voice, hailing your mother, can be heard from outside, causing both of you to look in its direction. Your mother clicks her tongue in aggravation, muttering to herself before patting your shoulder and making her way in the direction of your Father's voice. Once the beads fall, concealing her frame from your view, you slump down again, running your hands through your hair.
Settled in Neteyam's clammy palms and bound in fine cloth, sat the largest piece of Opal he was sure anyone had ever seen. He had found it one sunny afternoon when he was thirteen, not long after his Iknimaya, after flying to the highest of the Hallelujah Mountains. It shimmered there on the flat top of the grassy rock, like it had been left there just for him. He scooped it up like someone was about to take before he had the chance, clutching it to his chest and flying back home.He had kept hold of it for years, not sure of why he was so attached to it. Despite its presumed pointlessness, serving as nothing but a shiny lump in the corner of his sleeping quarters, Neteyam could not bring himself to discard it. It was only that previous night, that he'd felt its purpose had been discovered.
He had spent the day filing down the rough, jagged edges, shaping it into a perfect, translucent sphere, resembling the many pearls your Mother admired when the Tlalmim arrived with their trade from the Metkayina. Then, he selected an elegant blue cloth, as deep and dark as a clear night sky, your mother's favourite colour, and wrapped it, as a courting proposal. Neteyam understood the weight a formal proposal held, far more than that of a childish romantic fling, though both arguably felt just as deep and substantial. Hence why, as he cleared his throat upon your mother's approach, his stomach seemed to turn over inside of him, and he willed himself to keep his evening meal down.
Your mother's anger softens as she notices Neteyam beside her husband, understanding this interruption must be of some importance. She stands before the pair, furs still draped over her forearm. She brings her free hand to her forehead in greeting.
Neteyam returns the greeting, his voice steady despite his nerves. He takes a deep breath.
"I bring you this," He starts, presenting the mineraloid to your mother.
She raises a brow, taking it from him, fingering the cloth. "A gift?" she observes.
Neteyam swallows, taking a step back to address both of your parents. "I am presenting you with... this," he curses himself internally for being so overly-formal, like he was presenting an event at a festival. "...As a proposal for your daughter's courtship,"
He presses his lips into a thin line to stop himself from rambling. The look he gives your mother is hesitant, eyes blown wide with anxiety as he awaits her response.
Your mother's jaw hangs and her brow raises as she takes in his words. Her eyes flick to your father, who appears equally shocked, eyes widened. He gives her a look back, and they seem to communicate through their eyes, your mother nodding in the direction of the mauri, where you are still nursing your head, and your father creasing his brow in confusion as he struggles to recover from the blow delivered by Neteyam's proposal, before his eyes widen in understanding and he turns back to face Neteyam.
"Thank you, Ma Neteyam. Your gift and proposal are greatly appreciated. We will speak with our daughter and allow her to consider it," Your Father responds.
Neteyam bows his head. "Thank you, sir,"
Your Father nods once in reply.
Inside the mauri, you have stood up, re-folding the remaining furs you had dropped earlier, blinking repeatedly to combat the dull ache behind your eyes. Your attention is diverted by the sound of the entryway beads clacking, as your Father barrels inside.
The urgency in his voice has you raising your head in concern. "Ma Sempul?"
He follows your voice into the mauri, head turning in every direction to find you, before he lurches toward you in a rush, placing a hand on your shoulder. Your mother appears a few seconds later, throwing the fur down from over her arm. Their expressions are somewhat excited yet nervous, as if they anticipate something monumental. This confuses you.
"Neteyam Te Suli has proposed a courtship with you," your mother hisses frantically, holding up the Opal to show you. "He awaits your decision outside,"
Your breath seems to catch in your throat as you register what your mother has said, and your chest swells with sheer shock. Neteyam has asked to court you? Formally? Your thoughts run at a million miles per hour. What has led him to do this? Some kind of sick prank? What had Kiri told him? Your stomach squeezes as if someone had reached inside your mouth and tried to pull it upwards. Your jaw drops and your eyes fall to the floor, as if they search for an answer there.
You make a strained sound, like your words are stuck in your throat. Your parents look at you expectantly.
"May I... speak to him first?" is all you can muster.
"Your parents exchange looks, your mother nodding, and your father acknowledging. He turns back to face you, looking into your eyes.
"You may, Ma'ite. But please think very carefully about your decision. Do not make it simply to keep anyone but yourself satisfied,”
A small, comforted smile graces your lips as you look at your Father with a grateful fervor. He was always concerned with how you felt.
With your confidence renewed, you exited the mauri.
Neteyam stands down upon the pathway, his eyes downcast to where his feet nervously shift on a thick root. You let out a trembling breath, stepping forward to approach him. Your newfound courage seems to seep out of your pores, making your legs feel as if they have been weighted down with senses rock, like you are dragging yourself through thick sap. You resist every part of you that screams danger, willing yourself to calm.
Neteyam is alerted by your approaching footsteps, and his head jerks upwards, eyes meeting yours. They widen in surprise and his heart lurches, but he cannot help the small excited smile that forms on his face. Despite this, his shoulders remain rigid and tense, the small knot in his stomach still stuck fast.
The pair of you stand in silence for a few seconds, neither of you able to address the other. Your mind fumbles to find an appropriate statement, unable to bear the stiff awkwardness in the air.
“You have asked my parents for my hand in courtship,” you start, voice small yet surprisingly steady. You wring your hands behind your back.
Neteyam nods, eyes never leaving yours. “I have,”
You squeeze your hand into a fist, nails digging harsh groves into your palm as you urge yourself to form a response. “I was… I didn’t… I didn’t expect you to… take an interest in… me,”
The words come out slowly and quietly, like you were admitting something shameful. Your jaw tenses as you physically cringe at how pathetic you sound.
Neteyam softens ever so slightly, his nervousness seeming to ease as he hears the way you speak of yourself. The lack of confidence in your voice is not pitiful to him, but rather almost endearing. In his eyes, you should have been expecting this since your first meeting. You were everything he had ever wanted; never once had his eyes strayed to anyone else in the clan. Admiring you, loving you, was like gut instinct. Hearing how you thought so little of yourself wrenched on his heartstrings.
He stepped forward, just once, and reached out slowly, tentatively, for your arm. He encircles your forearm, bringing it forward from behind your back, his fingers tracing gently down until he meets your hand, clasping it firmly yet softly.
“You have always been in my interest,” he says, his voice thick with soft reverence. “I have always wanted you. For years, I have waited for this opportunity. And, yesterday… you presented it to me,”
Your hairless brows knit together in initial confusion. Yesterday?
Your mouth falls open as you come to the realisation.
You cover your mouth with your free hand, eyes squeezing shut in sheer mortification. “YOu were there?!” You exclaim.
Neteyam giggles. “I heard you talking,”
You gasp, face growing even hotter. You think back to the state you were in, crumpled up on the floor, face flushed and streaked with tears, sobbing ridiculously. You cover your face with your hand, smothering an embarrassed laugh.
You shake your head. “No, you didn’t. Please tell me you're joking,”
Neteyam’s smile grows. He shakes his head in response, laughing. “Nope,”
You let out a squeal in humiliation, feeling yourself grow hot all over. Neteyam squeezes your hand.
“I didn’t mind,” he implores, between laughs. “It’s what I wanted to hear,”
You huff, bringing your hand away from your face. You look at him through your lashes, your head dipped. A smile grows with mischief. “Eavesdropping is very rude, Ma Neteyam,”
He clicks his tongue. “I know,” he drawls jokingly.
HIs fingers spread out as he takes hold of your hand properly, intertwining his fingers with yours. He looks down at them.
“You are very pretty when you cry,”
A small huff of laughter escapes you as he says this. You place your free hand on top of your clasped hands.
“I accept your proposal,” you say, finally bringing your head up.
His pupils are blown wide, engulfing the bright yellow of his irises. His demeanour changes as his chest rises with excitement, straightening him up and instilling him with confidence. His smile softens.
“Thank you,” He breathes, the stiffness leaving his shoulders, the weight of his admiration for you finally falling away in sheer love, that envelopes the space around you both.
The Great Mother has heard you.
blue dividers accredited to @cafekitsune xx
