Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
༉ summary. during the midst of your wedding celebration, you seek silence outside on a hidden balcony. not expecting your now husband, valarr targaryen, to come find you.
༉ word count. 5.7k
༉ contains. arranged marriage, inner worry/doubt, kissing, fluff, pining, inaccurate stark family line, idk
༉ authors note. this is just one small, fun, and different thing i wanted to write and i have a variety of different interest. the beginning part is a bit weak before valarr shows up, bear with me. not proof read.
. . ⋆ ˖᯽ ݁
This wedding is meant to be a joyous affair.
And it is, for the most part. There's music and laughter coming from every corner of the hall. You guess that it's more rowdy than anything else these southerners have seen. Your father, Beron, had traveled with a ton of northmen to this wedding.
He was proud of you and wanted people to see it.
You've been playing with the bandage around your hand, protecting the cut you made earlier during your vows.
As Valarr takes a sip of his wine you can see the bandage around his palm as well. It's an old House Targaryen wedding ritual, the blood from your hands joining together symbolizing two fleshes becoming one. How Valarr can drink wine confuses you, the cut you two also made on your lips still stings as you sit on the high table.
You spoke to more people than you could count, more than you could name. That was what it meant to be the prince's wife, the future Queen.
You shook hands, drank many sips of wine that people toasted for you. You did all that was required of you now.
Except you refused to dance with them.
You saved that pleasantry for only your family. Your father, mother, and brother, all dance with you. Once all together. The thing about the North was when you danced, it was free. There were no poised choreographed dances. Just jumping, swinging, and twirling, something that let all the turmoil of the world fade away.
Valarr however, was now a part of your family. Technically your new family that would possibly eventually grow.
So you dance with him
It's slower than with your family, a given as you looked at how all the people from the South danced.
Your bandaged hands hold one another, though you can still feel the heat from the small skin to skin contact.
Valarr keeps looking down at his feet, nervous to hold more than five seconds of eye contact with you.
"Are you enjoying yourself?" You ask, quite enough so only Valarr can hear.
"I am now," he responds.
You smile shyly at his response, "I'm glad."
The dance with Valarr is nice. He holds you closer than anyone else would, it brings a flutter to your stomach. He dances like he is from the South. It's a poised choreographed dance, one that would bore you and turn you away if it were anyone but Valarr.
Eventually Valarr gets swept away by a Lord's small daughter into a dance and you walk back to your seat. You had taken it upon yourself throughout the wedding to move from your seat at the high table with the Targaryen's to the table the Stark's are seated at.
Valarr had looked at you when you did, a small nod was exchanged between the two of you. Understanding that being around your family was important to you.
Eventually now since they were all going to travel back North without you in three days.
Your five paces away from your seat when a woman blocks your path.
She's dressed in green with a tower symbol on her chest. House Hightower.
"Lady Targaryen." A rush shivers down your spine as she refers to you as Targaryen and not Stark.
"How has the wedding been?" She asks louder and happier than anyone would. She's trying to be extra nice, trying to win over your grace since you're now a Targaryen, as she pointed out.
That's what was wrong with the South, they're fake. Yes, people in the North were respectful and kind to your father and brother, but it was out of respect, not duty.
"It's been well. Thank you," you respond, trying to keep it short, wanting to return to your family.
"Yes I would imagine, being with a man like Valarr." Something bitter enters your body as she says that, unaware as to why.
"You know as they say, the Gods flip a coin when a Targaryen is born. It seems they favored Valarr when in the womb. Giving him plain features. Who knows, he's still young, time for him to grow mad." You look at the cup of wine in her hand and understand suddenly as to why she's saying all this openly to you.
The wine has made her bold. What she's speaking about is borderline treason, plain featured, she said. As if Valarr wasn't an angle to look upon.
Though something in her tangent struck you. The Targaryens are an odd bunch. Just in this generation, you have Targaryens who if spoken to would make you cry, someone on purpose.
Would Valarr end up like that?
He is your husband, and has authority as to what you do, what he does.
You know Valarr is a kind man who would never. But you can't stop the deep pit in your stomach from forming, worry that brings her drunken words to life.
And all of the sudden, the music that's playing gets louder. The Lords and Ladies chatter grows rowdier. Your wedding dress shrinks into your skin and cuts off your breathing.
All of the sudden you need to be outside. Away from the noise, away from the stares, away from everything.
You look at the main entrance, the doors could fit twenty people standing in a straight line. It takes you five seconds before you realize you couldn't walk out through them.
It takes you five more seconds for you to see the smaller door guarded by white cloaks.
Before you can second guess your decision, you walk towards the significantly smaller door. The guards don't oppose and you assume it's because of the dragon symbol you now wear.
You had come to know the halls of the Red Keep, but they'd never been as empty as now.
There's a few maids and cooks walking around. They look at you funny and you realize the very obvious wedding dress you're wearing.
If there's anything you've learned, the gossip that flows around the Red Keep is started from the maids. You already hear them saying the Targaryen bride was walking around the halls during her wedding breathlessly.
You spot the balcony doors and for the second time today you walk through the doors before you can second guess yourself.
The air immediately causes your breathing to steady.
As you walk to the edge of the balcony you can feel the wind. It almost feels like snow blowing in your face back in the North. The railing under your hand almost feels like ice as you try and fight back the sting in your eyes. Not letting the tears fall.
You don't want to cry, mainly because you know you have no logical reason to cry. Your marriage with Valarr will be fine, he's too kind for his own good.
"It's ok, you're ok," you repeat out loud to yourself.
You start breathing loudly and your hair starts sticking to your neck. Your hands move to the back of your head to gather it and put it up.
“My lady.”
You jump. Your hair falls.
You turn and see your now husband, Valarr Targaryen. He stands just at the entrance, hands at his side, afraid to move any closer.
You take a step forward, just one, unsure if he’d be upset at you for leaving the celebration.
“Your grace.” You bow.
“I could not find you,” he says.
He could not find you and you smile at the thought. Most men wouldn’t bother looking for their wife, too busy drinking their cups or indulging in the women around.
But the way Valarr says it, with genuine concern. You almost let yourself believe that he was concerned for your well being. But he was a prince, and this was his your guys’ wedding. Your disappearance would set a bad precedent for him, Valarr Targaryen the heir’s heir who could not keep track of his wife.
“My apologies your grace, I simply found myself needing some... air,” you say. Truly you wanted space and quiet, you wanted to be away from all the wandering eyes that sat upon you.
“Do not apologize, I understand. All the staring can be a lot.”
The smile you give to his responses doesn't quite meet your eyes. Yes, of course the man who grew up as a prince would understand what it's like to have thousands of people staring at you.
Valarr, seems to understand your unease, if he had come to find you to bring you back to the party he goes against it, fully stepping onto the balcony, not before shutting the doors behind him.
“I hope I am not imposing on your silence?” He questioned, moving to sit on the couch. His expression was soft, almost as if he was analyzing you, the entire situation.
For months you had gotten to know Valarr. You learned Valarr was a shy, honest man, he didn't have the arrogance that most princes had.
Everything about him was real.
“No your grace,” you repsond.
“Valarr,” he replies. "I wonder how many more times I must remind you?” He jests. "We are married now and I'd prefer it much more.”
When you were both betrothed, Valarr had asked you to call him by his first name. You remember he'd said "it would make things less awkward" before he paused before saying "and possibly have us grow more fond of one another." You remember because when you turn and look at him the brightest shade of pink took over his face.
It had brought the warmest sense of relief because you had come to the assumption that this marriage would be nothing more than a duty. A few nods, a couple public outings with one another, and eventually an heir plus a spare.
You sigh, “Yes I suppose we are now.”
“You need not say it with such disgust.”
“No!” You shoot. “Valarr I didn't—”
You're certain the cold from the metal bars you're gripping is helping ease your blood pressure right now. In all honesty, if you were to marry a prince you're happy it's Valarr. The idea of being bound to a drunken or mad man made you yourself want to adventure over the wall and never come back.
“I simply jest,” he interrupts.
"You could come sit y'know?" Valarr suggests nodding towards the empty space next to him. "If it pleases you, of course," he adds, something he always did, put your needs and wants first.
As you move closer to him you can see his features more clearly. Yes, you usually tell him he looks great, and he always did, but you said it on instinct before looking at him, not truly meaning it.
But as you look at him now, the small orange hue hitting his face from the torch lighting up the balcony, and his hair slightly blowing from the wind, it made his white streak more prominent than ever. He, in your opinion, had never looked better.
His light freckles, ones you won't be able to notice unless you're as close as you are right now. Or the dimple that he only has on the left side of his face. More importantly, his purple eyes with a sliver of brown in one. It seems his Valyrian and Dornish sides were competing with one another while he was in the womb. His eyes, not the color, but the look are what made you less worried about this union when you'd first met. The warmth and kindness he carried in them disintegrated your worries into oblivion.
"You look beautiful today." He looks at you with a genuine smile on his face, and the kindest look in his eyes. "Everyday but... in red,” he says, softly.
You laugh a bit. Valarr just confessed that he liked seeing you in his house colors. He liked that people knew you were his now, officially.
"As do you,” you reply. "Truly,” you add, aware of the fact that it didn't sound as genuine as his compliment.
Nonetheless, Valarr blushes.
"You seem to be the kindest person in the South Valarr," you say instead. Aware the compliments about his looks sound like they hold no value when exiting your mouth. You only hope he understands that you do reciprocate his fondness.
"You seem to be the only person I can trust here," you add trying to drive home the fact that he means a lot more to you than you put on.
Valarr's cheeks pink at the compliment.
"As are you," he replies. "Truly," he adds.
His laugh joins yours after that. It’s a poor attempt to poke fun at you.
Your laugh dies down as you realize how close you are to Valarr. Both your knees are touching each other. If you moved your hands an inch, they'd be right on top of Valarr's lap.
Valarr's laugh also dies down, suddenly aware of how close you two had gotten to one another. He looks down at your lips and fixates on them. Your breath hitches, looking at his eyes that are staring at your lip with nothing but hunger.
It reminds you of the first time you guys met.
It was at the red keep. You'd been there to celebrate Aerion Targaryen's name day. The arrogant prince had declared he wanted everyone, in his words: of importance, to show up.
You decided to leave the festivities and sit underneath the godswood tree on a bench, making a daisy chain. A rare almost impossible thing to do back in the North.
"I liked your dancing."
The interruption causes you to jump.
The man was standing with his hand at his front, rubbing his thumb over his pointer finger, clearly nervous. His eyebrows are shot up straight, clearly confused as to why he said that out loud.
The beaded dragon over his heart causes you to still.
As you look at him more clearly you're wondering how you didn't notice he was the prince at first.
Back in the great hall you saw him sitting next to the Hand of the King. He held himself as any price would, attentive, poised, and collected. When he spoke to, who you assumed was his brother, his white streak showed. The famous bit of hair that was talked through the seven kingdoms, the Targaryen features hold on through King Daeron's line by a strand.
You see now why the Blackfyre rebellion is in uproar. The Starks are loyal, but southern wars are not the top priority back at Winterfell. But a great push for the Blackfyre rebellion was over the fact that the heirs for the iron throne were no longer Targaryen. Both represent their Dornish features more. Though, from what little you've seen of the young prince in front of you, he seemed like he wouldn't make a half-bad king.
"Your grace." You bow now noticing you spent too long staring at his hair.
"You need not bow my lady," he says.
"Apologies, I just..." You trail off, not sure what to say.
"I understand," he cuts the silence off. "May I?" He questions pointing to the open spot next to you.
You don't understand why the realms prince has decided to move his attention onto you. You only hope that whatever this is, doesn't extend outside of this garden. A prince's attention is feeble, short-lived, you don't want to find yourself being a prince's plaything that he throws away when inconvenient.
You respond anyway, because he is a prince, "Yes your grace you—.”
"Valarr, you can call me Valarr," he cuts you off again.
"I do not believe that appropriate," you reply, unsure of why this small interaction had given you, what you assume is the privilege, of referring to the prince by his first name.
"We are alone." He looks around the garden, to validate what he says. "I believe."
"I suppose we are," you reply.
"I uh... I saw you dancing. Earlier. In the great hall," he says, sitting down closer to you than necessary, still fidgeting with his hands.
"I apologize, I hadn't noticed you," you say in all honesty, uncertain of why you'd felt so confident in being honest with a prince.
"No I take no offense, you looked like you were having fun..." He wanders off, staring into the sky. "With your betrothed and everything," he adds, with a slight hint of embarrassment.
"Brandon? My brother?" You say, with what only you can describe is the most disgusting look you've ever had on your face.
He's the only person you danced with today. You couldn't stand all the other lords from the South and there, for lack of a better word, stupid sons. You suppose Valarr's Targaryen mindset had led him to believe you were a sister-wife, but even then, the only people used to that custom were the Targaryens throughout history.
"Oh..." he replies. "I hadn't... I just... I'm sorry."
You laugh at the response. The look in his eyes, a sheer hint of humility and the hue of rose on his face. He shakes his head back and forth while laughing, clearly happy that he made you laugh. Here was the first time you noticed the small freckles on his face. They almost make him feel more... human, less like that dragon persona all the Targaryens carry.
"May I ask why you're here my prince?" You question.
He pouts his lips, unsure. "As I said, I liked your dancing. I thought you should know."
"Right," you respond, now looking down at the forgotten daisy chain in your hand.
Silence overtakes the bench you and Valarr are sitting on. Valarr, for reasons you don't know, came up to you yet he doesn't know what to say.
"What do you think of the south?" He asks, breaking the silence.
"I think the men here could benefit from a visit to the wall," you reply, way too abruptly.
That surprises you almost as much as him saying he liked your dancing. To be so brutally honest with a prince who you just met. Well, you don't know what's gotten over you.
"Apologies... my prince," you say, still not comfortable with addressing him by his first name."
"No, I prefer it. Honesty. It's easy to tell you're from the North." He laughs at his last sentence.
You didn't inherit many Stark traits. You were shy, didn't much prefer fighting but you knew how to hold your own. The best traits you had gained was loyalty and honesty. Though sometimes the latter got you in trouble. You're only grateful that Valarr hadn't found your honesty offensive.
He actually seemed to enjoy your company, and honesty. Not some lord who was just pleasing you and your interests for show. No. He was honest, real.
Eventually Valarr's hand moves towards yours, still holding the daisy chain. His finger touches yours lightly. It brings a shiver over your whole body.
"May I ask what it is you're making?" He looks at the daisy chain in your hand. You're sure there are tons of girls who live in the red keep, how Valarr has gone without seeing one you don't quite understand.
"It is a daisy chain," you say, bringing it up closer to his face as if that would make him suddenly understand.
"Would you like one?" You ask shyly.
"Of course." His response is a little too fast and exciting than it should be, though you don't mention it.
You debate with yourself on whether to make him a bracelet or necklace. But as you move your fingernails over the stem of the flower, you know exactly what you should make.
You both sit in silence as you make the chain. But you can feel Valarr staring at you. It takes everything in you to not look back at him. From your peripheral you see his eyes dart back and forth between your face and your hands over and over almost as if he was unsure which was more interesting.
"Perhaps not the most beautiful thing a prince like yourself has owned," you say once finished.
"In years to come you'll get a better one, but for now you can enjoy this," you say, placing the flower crown on top of his head.
Valarr looks up as you place the crown on this head, following your hands. His face has become the same shade of pink from when he randomly decided to proclaim he liked your dancing.
"I much prefer this one," he replies now, finally looking at you.
"Yes, I suppose this doesn't come with all the real problems a king may face in his lifetime."
"Yeah..." He waits, "Exactly." Though his tone doesn't sound as sure as his words.
He keeps eye contact with you as he says it. Though for one fleeting second, he looks down at your lips. So fast, if you weren't looking so deeply in his eyes you wouldn't have noticed the slip.
Though you decide at that moment to disregard it as nothing of importance.
You and Valarr engage in simple conversation after that. You do your best to keep it simple and polite so if a bystander were to overhear they couldn't spin this into something it's not. Though by the ways of the Red Keep, the whispers could convince people that a beetle was really a butterfly in disguise.
You learned mostly about Valarr's horse.
A black mare with the tiniest strand of white hair on her mane. Perfect for him. Though he sincerely doubted that, the first half-year with her she'd refuse to let Valarr mount him. If he did manage it, it was no more than five minutes until she shook him off of her.
He named her Meraxes.
Named after an ancient Valyrian God that you knew nothing about. Though you thought it was sweet that Valarr still held on to that part of his history.
His best memories of riding her was when he went out of the castle with Matarys. Most times they fled from the guards riding behind them, leaving them in a pile of worry.
You'd mentioned that she should meet your horse.
He seemed extremely pleased at the idea.
After a while Valarr had mentioned heading back to the hall. Valarr, ever the gentlemen had offered you his hand to escort you back. Though you advised against it, you knew it wasn't the best idea to enter the hall filled with dozens of lords and highborns with the prince.
After he left you sat underneath the godswoods tree for ten more minutes. One, to not let anyone get any ideas. But two, to understand what had just happened. Prince Valarr came up to you, for seemingly no good reason. And you had enjoyed it, the conversation with him felt good. Real.
He was the most honest person you had met in the South.
As you walk back into the hall, you see Valarr seated at the high table. His father Baelor to his right and brother Matarys to his left. But more importantly you see the daisy chain crown still sitting on top of his head.
"Y/N?" Valarr's hand is now on your shoulder, bringing you back to the present.
The physical contact makes your whole body warm.
"Hmm?" You say.
"I asked..." Whatever it was he was going to remind you of before you got lost in your mind, he goes against it. "Are you alright?"
"Yes I was just..." You pause, debating to share your honesty.
You remember though that the relationship you had with Valarr was built on honesty. It was what made you trust him since the first day you met. It was what gave you hope for this marriage. That if love did emerge, at least he would be honest with you, and you him.
So you tell him the truth.
"I was thinking back on the first day we met. Underneath the godswoods."
"I remember it," he replies.
Your bluntness had already gotten you this far, so you test it a little further.
"Why did you approach me that day? Do not say it was because of my dancing," you ask.
"But it was," he replies simply. "When you were dancing with your brother, your smile was the biggest I've ever seen. You looked happy."
He sighs and continues, "Most dancing that takes place through the Red Keep is a chore more than anything else. To make it seem like everyone is having a great time," he says with a heavy sigh, unhappy with the reality.
"Politics and judgment tend to wear off on people's spirit. The only person I'd ever seen that happy while dancing is Matarys. But you, you danced like no one was watching, like the people in the South were dirt found on the bottom of your shoe." They are, you thought.
"I thought it attractive," he says.
"I thought you attractive." The way he says you, like it was saying something as simple as the sky is blue, made your heart flutter.
Valarr had never told you this. You knew he was looking at you while you were dancing, that he admitted himself the first time he spoke to you. But to retell it to you now, to admit that he was analyzing you, you felt scared and admired simultaneously.
"I wanted to see what could make a person so happy," he admits. "That's why I approached you."
"You should've told me."
If Valarr had told you this, it would've made you way more happy and relaxed throughout this betrothal.
"I didn't want to frighten you."
"You'd never frighten me."
Yes you were frightened. Frightened of moving away from the North, away from your family. Frightened of the court and it slowly pulling you into its andal traditions. Frightened of one day becoming Queen of the seven kingdoms. Frightened of bearing children, children who will become King. Frightened of being in a loveless marriage.
But never frightened of Valarr.
Valarr has been the kindest and welcoming man since this proposal. How Valarr stood from you not more than five feet away these past months with not an ounce of doubt in his face. Maybe it's because he's a prince and knows this is his duty but the way he handles it with such composure, it's mostly unreal.
The warmest and kindest smile takes over Valarr's face. Which surprises you because he says, "I have not been fully honest with you."
He has got a mistress is your first thought. That's how he's been so happy with this arrangement. He knows he doesn't have to fully commit to you, he has an outlet to get away from you.
"My father, the king too, they were not the ones who requested this betrothal."
Oh.
What?
The shock and confusion of your face is what makes him explain himself further.
"I did."
"You...?" Your question fades, still not sure what he's hinting at.
"After the godswoods when I came back into the hall. As my father described it, my face looked as if a child had smeared pink pigment all around it."
Valarr laughs at the memory before he continues, "Mataryas, he... he laughed and pointed at the flowers on my head. He tried to take it from me and I removed his hand more harshly than I should have."
The image of Valarr harming his brother over something you crafted. A simple thing that you've made, something that any girl in the Red Keep knows how to make. It warms your heart, you'd barely known Valarr and yet he kept the flower crown.
"I placed the flower crown on the table beside my bed that day," he continued.
"The next day father had asked me about it but I didn't... I didn't tell him."
He didn't want to make a spectacle of you, of your guys' conversation for the court to know.
"Coincidentally, that day was when the small council decided it was time I got a wife." Valarr shys as he continues with the story, "All the ladies, they were kind but I..." He laughs at himself yet still going on.
"Don't laugh at me," he tells you.
"I kept ending those days in bed staring at the flowers, thinking back on that day in the godswood with you."
"And well..."
Valarr reaches into his pocket, what he pulls out takes your breath away. It's a flower crown, the flower crown from the godswood tree.
It's shriveled up, no longer chained in a circle together, it's balled up. Almost like Valarr had held it in his fist since that day. Most of the petals have turned almost brown, if you'd have shown it to anyone else, they wouldn't understand what it had originally been.
But you do.
You understand that Valarr has held on to a piece of you this whole time, the first thing you'd given at the garden.
"I went to my father and told him if I were to be betrothed to anyone it'd be to you."
Valarr's eyes are filled with nothing but honesty. A small hint of apprehension, like you reject him and his affection.
It's overwhelming how close you are to one another. Like the space between you two was an insult that needed to be exiled from the seven kingdoms.
So you exile it, you lean forward and kiss Valarr. Your arms wrap around him, pulling him as close as you could maneuver, the only barrier being your wedding clothes. Kissing him like your life depended on it, hoping it told Valarr everything words couldn't.
You've kissed Valarr before, once back North. Valarr, his father Baelor, and his brother Matarys, had all made a trip to the North 3 months after your first meeting with Valarr underneath the godswood tree.
You had not become a small fun play-thing to Valarr. From what you were told his father had requested a betrothal between you and the young prince to your father; Beron.
Requested was a nice way to put it because really when one is presented with a betrothal from the royal family, you don't decline it.
But for the three months before he arrived, you both had sent letters back and forth to one another. You'd learned many things about Valarr, and he you. He loved daisies, his brother was his best friend, he preferred discussing politics as opposed to fighting over them, though he never turned down a tourney, and he preferred the winter over summer.
You sent him one too many letters after that complaining he had never seen a true winter and no such room to speak on it.
And when he finally arrived to the North, though not during winter, he didn't seem to like it as much as he claimed.
You'd taken him to the hot springs, thinking it would help him with the cold.
It was there sitting on a rock that you had kissed Valarr. You both sat shoulder to shoulder, knees touching and his face had been more pink than ever. You remember laughing with him, seeing the same look in his eyes that he always has when he sees you, and leaning in.
It lasted no more than 10 seconds, possibly less.
And it wasn't your first kiss but you had been more nervous than ever. The feeling you had gotten around Valarr was different than any other. It was what made you bold enough to lean in and initiate the kiss.
You remember walking back to Winterfell a spread a pink across your face, matching Valarr. Occasionally giggling when you both make eye contact with one another.
The second time you two kissed was back at the wedding ceremony.
It was after cutting one another's lips and sipping on the wine. It was a simple kiss, proper yet sweet enough for everyone watching. Though they would never know how much the kiss stung.
But it was nothing like this.
No. This was completely different.
The kiss was firm, you were both more confident this time. There was no plague of honor hovering over the two of you stopping you from doing more. There was no crowd, staring at you two like dragons that had been hatched again after fifty-six years forcing the kiss to be formal.
The kiss wasn't rushed, it felt like longing and seduction in one. Months of bottled-up feelings from two people who were too shy to speak about how they felt about one another.
Your hands moved to his shoulders, gripping for support. Valarr groaned at the slight nip you made to his bottom lip. He pulled you in closer, one hand at your waist and the other in your hair, deepening the kiss. Almost afraid of this ending, scared this is his only chance so he soaks up all he can get in this moment.
When you pull back to get some air, your forehead rests against Valarr's. A sigh escapes your lips, and before you can speak, Valarr pulls you into another kiss.
This time it's more rushed. Your hands move to Valarr's neck also not wanting the moment to end. You'd guessed if you weren't outside, you'd sit on top of Valarr. Wanting to be as close as possible to him at this moment.
Finally, you pull away. Your hands are still on Valarr's neck, wanting to still feel him beneath you.
Valarr's face is one you want to commit to memory. He looks like a man who's been granted everything in life and then some.
The wind picks up at this moment. The torches flicker and move from the heavy wind and the silence between the two of you causes you to hear the music, stomping, and cheers from people celebrating back in the great hall.
The doors that separate the people celebrating the marriage between House Stark and House Targaryen and the two of you sitting outside.
Away from the politics, duties, and gossip that the Red Keep brings. From this small balcony outside you can just have a real normal conversation with Valarr. You can confess your fears and love to one another without fear.
You can look at one another with love without people being able to see and analyze the two of you.
And now all of the sudden, you aren't as afraid of being married to Valarr Targaryen.
༉ the complete knock — during the midst of your wedding celebration, you seek silence outside on a hidden balcony. not expecting your now husband, valarr targaryen, to come find you. 5.7k
headcanons:
CREGAN STARK
one shots:
AERION TARGARYEN
one shots:
༉ stop the world i wanna get off with you — …???
headcannons:
JACAERYS VELARYON
series:
one shots:
˖᯽ ݁ “other great houses might choose to bury their dead in the dark earth or sink them in the cold sea, but the targaryens were the blood of the dragon, and their ends were writ in flame.”
༉ summary. you and neteyam through the eyes of lo’ak during their first few months in the metkayina village.
༉ pairing. neteyam sully x metkayina fem!reader
༉ word count. 4.4k
༉ contains. filtering, kinda ooc neteyam (he's the first born son of the "chief" he'd so be a little self-centered), cringe
༉ authors note. this is ass but I need it done and out of my drafts now. I also love pre-tloasg taylor and folklore + evermore are my shit! i tried to make it feel like the song but, yk. tell me if this doesn't make sense please.
. . ⋆ ˖᯽ ݁
Lo'ak had felt reborn.
Something he didn't think would ever be possible. For him to be naturally good, no, great, at something, within his own right. The possibility to be better than his father, better than Neteyam was improbable.
He can tell based on Neteyam’s comfortability. Because of the difference in his demeanor. The unease in his snoring, the unbalance in the way he walks, and his spark. Neteyam used to be able to control any room he walked into. And now it seems as if he lost the ability to speak at all.
The forest was Neteyam's territory, his life. He was set to become Olo’eyktan and a good one too, there was no denying that. And all of that was taken from right under his nose. So in Neteyam's mind, there is no point in learning the ways of the water. At least not in the same way Lo'ak was. He would learn breath control but that was all.
He refused to learn as a way to get back at his parents for taking the only thing that mattered to him.
And since being with the Metkayina, it seemed as if Lo’ak and Neteyam’s positions have switched.
So much so that Lo’ak worried for Neteyam like an older brother. Like Neteyam used to do for him. So when Lo’ak hears Neteyam’s yell from across the rocks, his attention shoots up like a mother ikran during their child’s first flight.
Except Lo’ak can’t see.
The ocean, in all ways, is opposite to the forest. The main difference is there are no trees to block the sunlight out here. So when Lo’ak looks around for Neteyam all there is is the glaring sun, blocking his view.
But then he sees you.
You, standing on top of the rocks chucking a fish at Neteyam and laughing as if you weren't permitted to at home. Lo'ak had only been here for a few months. But he could tell that wasn't something just anybody could get out of you.
But when he sees Neteyam's smile, his eyes looking back at you with a glimmer of affection, he eases. He eases because Neteyam laughs back at you and it's one of the few times Lo’ak has seen Neteyam laugh since moving in with the Metkayina. And it reminds him of the first time he and Neteyam met you.
When Lo’ak first arrived at Awa’atlu the first thing he noticed was Tsireya (though he didn't know her name at the time). She was so pretty he wanted to stare at her till he was old and grey. Until his legs didn't work. Her beauty had stumped him so bad that all he could mumble out was the small hi.
The second thing he noticed was Neteyam. Or, the lack of Neteyam. Neteyam took any and every opportunity to poke fun at Lo'ak, it was his duty as an older brother. But he didn't. Instead he saw that Neteyam’s attention was solely focused on you. Lo'ak saw what he could only describe as two predators in a stand off to claim authority. He saw you both staring back at one another with the same look in your eyes.
Understandment.
You both understood one another as top predators in different ecosystems. He with the subtle arrogance to him, and you with the outspoken entitlement, You both understood you could only get that from one thing, inheritance. Being the first born children of the Olo'eyktan. The smirks you both exchanged with one another said everything at once. I see you. I know what you are. It's the most open you've both been with somebody in years. Lo'ak understood that the few seconds it took for you two to see one another, it could only mean one of two things: chaos or bliss.
What Lo'ak didn't understand was that two things can be true at the same time.
. . ⋆ ˖᯽ ݁
It had been three weeks since arriving at Awa’atlu and Lo'ak nor Neteyam had seen you since.
When Lo’ak, Kiri, Neteyam, and Tuk were learning the ways of the water. Their teachers were Tsireya, Aonung, and occasionally Rotxo. Lo'ak had asked why you weren't there as well since he learned that you too were also the Olo'eyktan and Tsahìk's kid. But Aonung had only replied with "none of your business." Terrible news for Aonung because Lo'ak was never one to listen to people nor stay out of others business.
"Tsireya?" He asked.
"Yes?" Tsireya replied.
"Where is your sister? I'd rather her teach us than him." He said head nodding over to Aonung.
Neteyam's attention focused towards them at the mention of her sister. Lo'ak looked back at him, a smirk on his face.
"So?" Neteyam questioned suddenly.
Neteyam made it very clear he did not like Awa’atlu, but he was still forced to attend the lessons nonetheless. But he didn't do much. He never talked and was currently sitting on the rocks playing with an oyster Tuk had brought him over an hour ago. Sitting in pure silence before his quip only moments ago. So at the sudden input Neteyam brought, it silenced Lo'ak.
"Hmm?" Tsireya said, also confused about his question.
"Your sister. Where is she?" He said, making his intentions clear. He was curious about the girl he saw when first arriving. The girl who looked at him understood who he was. Lo'ak then laughed, he knew of Neteyam's... infatuation with you, if he could call it that. You were the only thing that gave Neteyam that spark in his eyes like back home.
Aonung's annoying voice now chirped in, making Lo'ak's eyes roll. "Why does everyone suddenly care about Y/N?"
"Yea why all of a sudden?" Based on the look Neteyam gave Lo'ak he could tell he understood that Lo'ak had seen the looks between you and Neteyam.
"Y/N? She's with Ralu I thought." Rotxo said.
"Seriously?" Aonung said towards Rotxo.
"Her mate?” Neteyam asked, shoulders tense.
Aonung huffed at this. Lo'ak couldn't understand what was funny about his question. You were by no means ugly and around the right age.
"She'd rather roll over and die." Aonung said.
"Then mate?" Lo'ak bit, wanting to be a part of the conversation.
"To him? Yeah." Rotxo said.
Lo'ak saw Neteyam's shoulders fall from what could only be described as relief, a faint grin forming on his face. Causing Lo'ak to barely hear Aonung ask, "Why do you care anyway?"
"Hello," Aonung said, hands waving in front of Lo'ak's face. "Lo'ak?"
Lo'ak's eyes left Neteyam, hands surrendering. "No, no I don't care." He had gotten enough from this conversation anyway. He now knew whatever small looks were shared between you and Neteyam meant more than any normal person would consider. He'd wonder if Neteyam was in over his head, living in his own fantasy.
Everyone had gone back where they were before. Lo'ak with Tsireya still learning breath control. Tuk and Kiri with Aonung and Rotxo just exploring. And Neteyam on that damn rock, banging that oyster into the ground repeatedly. Lo'ak guessed if he had to go one more day listening to it he might go mad.
But it was then, as Neteyam beat the oyster over and over again to get it open, that Lo'ak saw you for the first time again since arriving. And it was also the first time he had heard your voice.
You sighed the second you arrived. "Let's go, get this over with." Your hands were now on Neteyam's back, pushing him up. Already annoyed at the idea of needing to be around him.
"What are you doing?" Neteyam asked quite aggressively.
"Calm down pretty boy. I've been called to rescue Tisreya and Aonung from the unbearable, annoying Neteyam who refuses to comply."
"Pretty?" Neteyam smirked at your slip of wording.
Lo'ak heard Neteyam for the first time again since being here. Not literally, but Neteyam's tone and his smirk when speaking to you, it was the exact same as if he were back at home. Back on top, back to being playful, and at ease. Yet it was short lived because you immediately pushed Neteyam off the rocks and into the water, erasing Lo'ak's view of Neteyam.
As Neteyam emerged from the water he yelled, "Skxáwng! What was that for?"
"What? You've never been rough-housed with?" The smirk on your face replicated Neteyam's only moments ago.
And the new glimmer in Neteyam's eyes, well it was something Lo'ak is still too young to have experienced.
"Lo'ak what do you say? You think Neteyam likes being rough?" Lo'ak for one, has no answer to your question. But two, sees that same look in both your eyes from when you first met. The honesty you both convey to one another in only a few sentences.
Lo'ak has always been quite the curious kid. It's what got him in trouble so much. Exploring the forest, investigating the leftover human ships, and participating way more than he should during the raids. He can't help himself. It's why now he turns to Tsireya asking to move closer to you and Neteyam.
"Get out." You say to Neteyam, nudging your head away from the water.
"Bossy." Neteyam hisses. Nonetheless he still pulls himself out of the water. "Why push me in if you just want me out?"
"Well you're listening now aren't you?"
"Yeah." He looks you up and down, Lo'ak guesses its to assist how serious you really are.
"Then listen to me now." You say, your tone shifting. Lo'ak can see the slight anger in your eyes. "You're mad, so am I. But I know what you are. I know your authority..." you pause and mimic Neteyam again, looking him up and down. "is gone. So is your ego that a couple girls stroked back home."
"More than a couple." Interrupts Neteyam.
You huff. "Nice one. But I'm being forced to help you. Eywa knows why. But you waste my time and I'll make you wish it was you who got swept away by the sky people like your little pink-skinned friend."
It was at this moment Lo'ak turned to Tsireya. He had told her about Spider, but he should've known she would tell you. They'd both spent lots of time with one another. Confiding in one another, and he'd come to learn you and her had been quite close. Her telling you didn't surprise him. But as he turned to look at her, the shy look on her face only made Lo'ak laugh.
When Lo'ak finally looked back at you two. He only managed to catch the last few words of your conversation.
"You understand me?" You asked.
"Yeah." Neteyam replied now only looking at your eyes, dropping his carefree attitude.
The double meaning of your question didn't go unnoticed by Lo'ak and he could tell Neteyam understood it as well.
. . ⋆ ˖᯽ ݁
It was two weeks later that Lo'ak saw you and Neteyam in the same place together. Tsireya had informed them about a small cove that most teens went to every other week or so. He and his siblings had still not been socially accepted into the clan, and he figured it'd still be a long time until they were. But Tsireya had promised them nothing bad would occur. And with her being the Olo'eyktan and Tsahìk's kid, he figured she had small power about what was said.
So walking into the cove with Neteyam and Kiri, Lo'ak had to believe and hold on to hope about what Tsireya said. Already he was feeling skittish because upon arrival he could only name a few people. Aonung, Rotxo, Tsireya, and you.
And as Lo'ak moved further into the cove towards you guys he could see all the weary faces looking at them. It was also then that he noticed the guy sitting particularly close to you and as he looked down, he saw an unknown guy's hand resting on your thigh, quite high.
He turned to look at Kiri, and her face was full of regret, she often didn't care what people thought of her. But she'd rather not be subjected to a room full of people who she could tell didn't like her. When he turned to Neteyam he saw that his expression was completely different to Kiri's. He too had seen the hand resting on your thigh. Rather than the curiosity Lo'ak had felt when he saw it, Neteyam looked, well Lo'ak couldn't describe it. At best, it was the same expression Neteyam had back home when the sky people managed to take over more land.
"Lo'ak!" Yelled Tsireya. "Kiri! Neteyam! Come!" She had waved toward the three of them, signaling to sit by her. And Lo'ak's eyes lit up hard and he had almost ran towards her. Because one thing he wasn't going to do was give up the chance to be near her. While Lo'ak's actions and facial expressions were by no means sly but he tried to be when talking to her.
"Sup." He said to her.
He winced the second he'd said it. He expected her to laugh, but it didn't come. Instead your laugh came. You had looked at him with such amusement he couldn't help but laugh at himself. He knew you knew about his affection towards Tsireya, it seemed everyone did.
"Are you just going to stand there or are you going to sit down?" You said now looking right at Neteyam. A slight smirk on your face. Lo'ak had never seen Neteyam so out of his element. His eyes were darting around the cove and fists clenched together. He looked like a small yerik being cornered into his inevitable death.
You had that same look in your eyes from when Lo'ak first saw you, You understood that Neteyam wasn't used to not being the center of attention.
"C'mon sit. Buddy." You eventually spoke up, freeing Neteyam from the somewhat trance and hunters of eyes surrounding him.
Buddy. A human word. One his dad had taught him and his family. Occasionally calling them that when they were on good terms. It was that term that had signaled to Lo'ak that you and Neteyam had spent more time with one another than he, or anyone, had known.
Lo'ak was going to make a remark about your choice of words, but his attention was overtaken by the guy whose hand was on your thigh.
He had moved his leg to the clearly open spot right next to him. Blocking Neteyam from sitting down. Clearly not agreeing with your open invite.
You, Neteyam, and Lo'ak all huffed at this move.
Except it was only you who spoke up. "You scared Ralu? He doesn't bite." You said standing up, placing yourself between Neteyam and who Lo'ak now knew as Ralu, the one from the rocks.
"Move." You commanded him. "Since your so scared."
"I'm not scared." Ralu replied, yet still moving. It seemed everyone folded over at your demands.
"Sup." You had quietly said to Neteyam while sitting down, closer to him than you should've. But not enough that anyone would notice unless they were paying attention and Lo'ak was paying attention. You had laughed now looking straight at Lo'ak. Your choice of words was clearly to poke fun at him.
"Who would be scared of these freaks?" Someone interrupted.
Lo'ak winced, he immediately knew who said this.
Aonung.
Aonung had played a good game. Saving face in front of the elders, playing the role of the welcoming friend around them. Then turning around and saying things like this behind the elders back. To Lo'ak's face though he gave him credit for that.
"Dude.”
“Aonung."
You and Tsireya both called out to your brother at the same time. If Lo'ak were less mad, he'd take note of the other human word you had just used. Instead he heard the small mumbles of people agreeing all around them.
"What are their small limbs going to do?" Someone laughed, Lo'ak didn't care to know who he was.
Neteyam had now stood up, heading straight towards the guy. He said nothing but Lo'ak knew from the few times Neteyam let himself actually get angry, that he was pissed.
If they were back at home, surrounded by the trees and Neteyam had his small Olo'eyktan duties back, Lo'ak would be the one standing up trying to start something with this dude. But they weren't home. And Neteyam had since given up on his rule following behavior. But the sea, the people, and this new attitude was fairly new to Neteyam. So he didn't quite know when and when not to pick a fight. But Neteyam's ego was bruised so he stood up regardless. And about 10 Metkayina followed him.
Lo'ak loved his brother. Truly, but if he did manage to get into this fight, he would lose, very badly. And Lo'ak didn't feel like getting beat up today.
"Tough guy, aren't you?" The guy spat out. Lo'ak still didn't care to know who he was.
It seems you understood the predicament Neteyam found himself in. Most of the people here were stronger than Neteyam, the forest required long and slim limbs to climb and move through the trees but the sea required bigger shoulders and thicker limbs to pull yourself through the water.
"That's enough." You interjected now, stepping between Neteyam and this guy.
That guy's focus was still on Neteyam. But he laughed as he said, "You need the little princess to come save you?" His eyes move towards you at the word princess and then back to Neteyam.
"Really 'Etnatxu?" You said. "Princess." You spat that out as if it were a bug caught in your mouth. "You can't think of anything more clever?"
"What I can't think of is why you're standing up for these demons. Is it the same reason you're with Ralu?" 'Etnatxu said, laughing in your face. Lo'ak had guessed what he was implying, with that guys, Ralu as he now knows, having his hands placed all over your body. But Lo'ak didn't think you'd be that close with someone you'd just met. Especially Neteyam, he hated everything and everyone here.
In the next moment from what Lo'ak could tell, someone had punched 'Etnatxu. Lo'ak had seen the smallest bit of teal hit the man's cheek, but he couldn't be certain. Because after that he saw Neteyam go down, straddled by a member of the Metkayina clan.
Lo'ak didn't want to get beat up. But Neteyam was his brother and he'd do anything for him. So in a split second he'd gotten up, Tsireya's arm wrapped around his now gone, as he ran towards Neteyam.
Luck was never on Lo'ak's side, not even now. Because as he is running someone has plowed into him, digging him into the ground and punching his face. Lo'ak couldn't see much but heard a plethora of things, mostly yelling. Aonung yelling at someone to try it again. He heard the faint sound of Neteyam's hiss, one that he could recognize from all the training the had beside one another. You, yelling absurd things he didn't know were possible from the chiefs daughter.
Eventually, after one to many blows to the face, Lo'ak ended up on top of the guy, pushing him into the ground instead. And he'd felt Tsireya's arm back around him, pulling him off of whomever he was punching.
Her sweet voice has interrupted Lo'ak's thoughts. "Lo'ak stop. Lets go." She said pulling him back towards the opening of the cave.
Lo'ak still however was looking at the fight happening, Neteyam nowhere to be found. People were just hitting one another for the fun of it, it seemed.
"''Course I had fun sweetheart." Lo'ak heard Neteyam's voice call out. That was what got him to turn away from the fight. His voice held a hint of fun and admiration in it. Like he had just witnessed a baby taking its first steps.
Lo'ak would never, not ever let Neteyam live what he just found out down. So he had pulled Tsireya in your guy's direction, a smile taking over his whole face.
"Buddy?" Lo'ak questioned towards you, eyebrow raised. Hinting at the slip of words he heard you say earlier today.
"Skxawng." You replied, now resorting back to the na'vi language. Pushing Neteyam away from the crowd and therefore Lo'ak. Not as fast as you had hoped because Lo'ak still heard Neteyam's laugh as he walked away, hand in yours.
. . ⋆ ˖᯽ ݁
One thing Neteyam did like about being with the Metkayina, was the food. Something Lo'ak couldn't understand. He'd much rather eat a yerik than whatever this fish was.
"Eat your food." His mom said, clearly understanding the look plastered on Lo'ak's face.
Lo'ak whined, ready to spit out about how he doesn't like this and shouldn't be forced to eat it.
"Eat it boy." His father now said, not in the mood for Lo'ak's games. He wasn't particularly happy with them knowing they got into a fight not even a couple months here.
Lo'ak huffed, giving up already. "Don't huff, you can't listen to anything else we say you might as listen when we say: eat your food."
"Ma'jake." His mom said, hand outreaching to calm him down.
His father always had this trait to drag things on when Lo'ak was already over it. He was already mid bite when his dad decided to speak again. One trait Lo'ak did inherit from his dad, was the inability to let things go, to protect himself, his image, against anyone.
So his dad couldn't really blame him when he said, "We didn't start it."
"Dude." Neteyam finally spoke up.
"What? We didn't!" Lo'ak argued, still sticking up for himself.
"Then who did?" Questioned his father.
Lo'ak stilled at his fathers question. Lo'ak still hadn't figured that out. He was sitting with Tsireya while Neteyam and you were blocked from his vision by people surrounding you seconds before the fight started.
"Aonung did." Neteyam said quietly.
Loa's head snapped at that, Neteyam would never talk about to his father but also he would never lie to him. So he couldn't understand why of all the lies he decided to go with, he went with that one. it seemed his father didn't believe it either because he heard his fathers laugh. "You expect me to believe the chief's son started it?" His dad said.
If Neteyam were back home, he'd leave it at that. He wouldn't fight back but Neteyam felt as if he had nothing to lose. So he replied, "He was defending his sister."
If Lo'ak was certain of one thing, luck was never on his side, but it was always on Neteyam's. Because his father only responded with a small, "Get out."
His father was talking to Neteyam but Lo'ak couldn't help but also leave at his command. Holding in his laughter until he stepped outside the tent.
"Bro, I didn't know you had it in you." Lo'ak laughed, teasing his brother.
"Shut up." Neteyam responded.
Still laughing, they walked along the sand, another thing Lo'ak prefered compared to the grass. The sand was warm and soft between the toes. Lo'ak lost track on how many times he had stepped on a rock or a particularly sharp twig.
"I can't believe you started that fight." Lo'ak said. "Dude you're becoming me, I'm proud." His hands wrapped around Neteyam's face like a dotting mother really selling this attitude.
"I didn't start the fight. Aonung did, like I said." Neteyam replied.
"What? There's... no he didn't!" Lo'ak yelled. "Why would he defend us? Forest boys." Lo'ak's last remark came out almost like a whisper. He'd be dead before he actually told anyone that being outcast here sometimes got to him.
"He didn't. He defined his sister- you'd do the same." Neteyam said, cutting off his own sentence.
Lo'ak had no response to that, because he would. He'd defend Kiri and Tuk over and over again, even if it killed him. So he decided to change the conversation.
"So..." He trailed off, trying to beat around the bush. "Y/N."
The look Neteyam gave him would regularly sent Lo'ak into a laughing fit, but he didn't. If he e wanted to know what was happening between the two of you he needed to be serious.
"She's... well you two seem close." Lo'ak said.
"We're not- its none of your business." Neteyam said quickly, almost punching himself in the gut for lying.
Lo'ak wanted to bite, to get under Neteyam's skin. If there was one thing Lo'ak could do was get Neteyam mad and if he was mad then he could understand how he actually felt about you.
So, Lo'ak decided to say, "She's pretty."
Almost immediately Neteyam responded, "So is Tsireya."
Lo'ak laughed turning to look at the sunset that painted a pink and orange hue over the clan. He got it then, Lo'ak did think Tsireya was pretty, but hearing it out of Neteyam mouth made him feel two things. A small rush of tingle fell over his belly, that fact that people could so clearly see how he viewed Tsireya made him warm. He didn't even want to know what color his face was now. But also, a small dangerous feeling of anger took over him. However irrational it make seem, he still didn't like that comment coming from Neteyam. But the fact that Neteyam understood how this would make Neteyam feel, means he felt the same thing.
"Ok but those practices between the two of you. What's that?" Lo'ak asked.
"Aonung sucks and I'm not spending all day watching you look at Tsireya with hearts in your eyes." Neteyam responded.
"You sure have all the answers. Don't you buddy?" Lo'ak said, still talking about your choice of words that day from the fight.
Neteyam's face cringed at that. "Let that go." He laughed.
"How'd she learn that? I've never seen you that somewhere that wasn't practice."
"That's also none of your business."
'So you are going out with her in secret!" Lo'ak yelled, happy to at least get some information out of this conversation.
"Going out." Neteyam whispered. Seemingly unsure with how Lo'ak decided to word it.
"Complicated?" Lo'ak asked.
"Not yet." Neteyam responded.
Lo'ak sighed at Neteyam’s short responses. He obviously didn't want to give too much away.
"I can’t believe it. A couple of months and you already have... a girl." Lo'ak laughed.
Instead of responding Neteyam just laughed and walked ahead. Done with the conversation.
Lo'ak laughed at his brother’s retreat. He knew, whatever he got himself stuck between with himself and you, he'd be fine. Luck was always on Neteyam's side.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
༉ summary. you and neteyam through the eyes of lo’ak during their first few months in the metkayina village.
༉ word count. 4.4k
༉ contains. filtering, kinda ooc neteyam (he's the first born son of the "chief" he'd so be a little self-centered), cringe
༉ authors note. this is ass but I need it done and out of my drafts now. I also love pre-tloasg taylor and folklore + evermore are my shit! i tried to make it feel like the song but, yk. tell me if this doesn't make sense please. ¡this story follows canon atwow but just very slowed down and spaced out!
. . ⋆ ˖᯽ ݁
Lo'ak had felt reborn.
Something he didn't think would ever be possible. For him to be naturally good, no, great, at something, within his own right. The possibility to be better than his father, better than Neteyam was improbable.
He can tell based on Neteyam’s comfortability. Because of the difference in his demeanor. The unease in his snoring, the unbalance in the way he walks, and his spark. Neteyam used to be able to control any room he walked into. And now it seems as if he lost the ability to speak at all.
The forest was Neteyam's territory, his life. He was set to become Olo’eyktan and a good one too, there was no denying that. And all of that was taken from right under his nose. So in Neteyam's mind, there is no point in learning the ways of the water. At least not in the same way Lo'ak was. He would learn breath control but that was all.
He refused to learn as a way to get back at his parents for taking the only thing that mattered to him.
And since being with the Metkayina, it seemed as if Lo’ak and Neteyam’s positions have switched.
So much so that Lo’ak worried for Neteyam like an older brother. Like Neteyam used to do for him. So when Lo’ak hears Neteyam’s yell from across the rocks, his attention shoots up like a mother ikran during their child’s first flight.
Except Lo’ak can’t see.
The ocean, in all ways, is opposite to the forest. The main difference is there are no trees to block the sunlight out here. So when Lo’ak looks around for Neteyam all there is is the glaring sun, blocking his view.
But then he sees you.
You, standing on top of the rocks chucking a fish at Neteyam and laughing as if you weren't permitted to at home. Lo'ak had only been here for a few months. But he could tell that wasn't something just anybody could get out of you.
But when he sees Neteyam's smile, his eyes looking back at you with a glimmer of affection, he eases. He eases because Neteyam laughs back at you and it's one of the few times Lo’ak has seen Neteyam laugh since moving in with the Metkayina. And it reminds him of the first time he and Neteyam met you.
When Lo’ak first arrived at Awa’atlu the first thing he noticed was Tsireya (though he didn't know her name at the time). She was so pretty he wanted to stare at her till he was old and grey. Until his legs didn't work. Her beauty had stumped him so bad that all he could mumble out was the small hi.
The second thing he noticed was Neteyam. Or, the lack of Neteyam. Neteyam took any and every opportunity to poke fun at Lo'ak, it was his duty as an older brother. But he didn't. Instead he saw that Neteyam’s attention was solely focused on you. Lo'ak saw what he could only describe as two predators in a stand off to claim authority. He saw you both staring back at one another with the same look in your eyes.
Understandment.
You both understood one another as top predators in different ecosystems. He with the subtle arrogance to him, and you with the outspoken entitlement, You both understood you could only get that from one thing, inheritance. Being the first born children of the Olo'eyktan. The smirks you both exchanged with one another said everything at once. I see you. I know what you are. It's the most open you've both been with somebody in years. Lo'ak understood that the few seconds it took for you two to see one another, it could only mean one of two things: chaos or bliss.
What Lo'ak didn't understand was that two things can be true at the same time.
. . ⋆ ˖᯽ ݁
It had been three weeks since arriving at Awa’atlu and Lo'ak nor Neteyam had seen you since.
When Lo’ak, Kiri, Neteyam, and Tuk were learning the ways of the water. Their teachers were Tsireya, Aonung, and occasionally Rotxo. Lo'ak had asked why you weren't there as well since he learned that you too were also the Olo'eyktan and Tsahìk's kid. But Aonung had only replied with "none of your business." Terrible news for Aonung because Lo'ak was never one to listen to people nor stay out of others business.
"Tsireya?" He asked.
"Yes?" Tsireya replied.
"Where is your sister? I'd rather her teach us than him." He said head nodding over to Aonung.
Neteyam's attention focused towards them at the mention of her sister. Lo'ak looked back at him, a smirk on his face.
"So?" Neteyam questioned suddenly.
Neteyam made it very clear he did not like Awa’atlu, but he was still forced to attend the lessons nonetheless. But he didn't do much. He never talked and was currently sitting on the rocks playing with an oyster Tuk had brought him over an hour ago. Sitting in pure silence before his quip only moments ago. So at the sudden input Neteyam brought, it silenced Lo'ak.
"Hmm?" Tsireya said, also confused about his question.
"Your sister. Where is she?" He said, making his intentions clear. He was curious about the girl he saw when first arriving. The girl who looked at him understood who he was. Lo'ak then laughed, he knew of Neteyam's... infatuation with you, if he could call it that. You were the only thing that gave Neteyam that spark in his eyes like back home.
Aonung's annoying voice now chirped in, making Lo'ak's eyes roll. "Why does everyone suddenly care about Y/N?"
"Yea why all of a sudden?" Based on the look Neteyam gave Lo'ak he could tell he understood that Lo'ak had seen the looks between you and Neteyam.
"Y/N? She's with Ralu I thought." Rotxo said.
"Seriously?" Aonung said towards Rotxo.
"Her mate?” Neteyam asked, shoulders tense.
Aonung huffed at this. Lo'ak couldn't understand what was funny about his question. You were by no means ugly and around the right age.
"She'd rather roll over and die." Aonung said.
"Then mate?" Lo'ak bit, wanting to be a part of the conversation.
"To him? Yeah." Rotxo said.
Lo'ak saw Neteyam's shoulders fall from what could only be described as relief, a faint grin forming on his face. Causing Lo'ak to barely hear Aonung ask, "Why do you care anyway?"
"Hello," Aonung said, hands waving in front of Lo'ak's face. "Lo'ak?"
Lo'ak's eyes left Neteyam, hands surrendering. "No, no I don't care." He had gotten enough from this conversation anyway. He now knew whatever small looks were shared between you and Neteyam meant more than any normal person would consider. He'd wonder if Neteyam was in over his head, living in his own fantasy.
Everyone had gone back where they were before. Lo'ak with Tsireya still learning breath control. Tuk and Kiri with Aonung and Rotxo just exploring. And Neteyam on that damn rock, banging that oyster into the ground repeatedly. Lo'ak guessed if he had to go one more day listening to it he might go mad.
But it was then, as Neteyam beat the oyster over and over again to get it open, that Lo'ak saw you for the first time again since arriving. And it was also the first time he had heard your voice.
You sighed the second you arrived. "Let's go, get this over with." Your hands were now on Neteyam's back, pushing him up. Already annoyed at the idea of needing to be around him.
"What are you doing?" Neteyam asked quite aggressively.
"Calm down pretty boy. I've been called to rescue Tisreya and Aonung from the unbearable, annoying Neteyam who refuses to comply."
"Pretty?" Neteyam smirked at your slip of wording.
Lo'ak heard Neteyam for the first time again since being here. Not literally, but Neteyam's tone and his smirk when speaking to you, it was the exact same as if he were back at home. Back on top, back to being playful, and at ease. Yet it was short lived because you immediately pushed Neteyam off the rocks and into the water, erasing Lo'ak's view of Neteyam.
As Neteyam emerged from the water he yelled, "Skxáwng! What was that for?"
"What? You've never been rough-housed with?" The smirk on your face replicated Neteyam's only moments ago.
And the new glimmer in Neteyam's eyes, well it was something Lo'ak is still too young to have experienced.
"Lo'ak what do you say? You think Neteyam likes being rough?" Lo'ak for one, has no answer to your question. But two, sees that same look in both your eyes from when you first met. The honesty you both convey to one another in only a few sentences.
Lo'ak has always been quite the curious kid. It's what got him in trouble so much. Exploring the forest, investigating the leftover human ships, and participating way more than he should during the raids. He can't help himself. It's why now he turns to Tsireya asking to move closer to you and Neteyam.
"Get out." You say to Neteyam, nudging your head away from the water.
"Bossy." Neteyam hisses. Nonetheless he still pulls himself out of the water. "Why push me in if you just want me out?"
"Well you're listening now aren't you?"
"Yeah." He looks you up and down, Lo'ak guesses its to assist how serious you really are.
"Then listen to me now." You say, your tone shifting. Lo'ak can see the slight anger in your eyes. "You're mad, so am I. But I know what you are. I know your authority..." you pause and mimic Neteyam again, looking him up and down. "is gone. So is your ego that a couple girls stroked back home."
"More than a couple." Interrupts Neteyam.
You huff. "Nice one. But I'm being forced to help you. Eywa knows why. But you waste my time and I'll make you wish it was you who got swept away by the sky people like your little pink-skinned friend."
It was at this moment Lo'ak turned to Tsireya. He had told her about Spider, but he should've known she would tell you. They'd both spent lots of time with one another. Confiding in one another, and he'd come to learn you and her had been quite close. Her telling you didn't surprise him. But as he turned to look at her, the shy look on her face only made Lo'ak laugh.
When Lo'ak finally looked back at you two. He only managed to catch the last few words of your conversation.
"You understand me?" You asked.
"Yeah." Neteyam replied now only looking at your eyes, dropping his carefree attitude.
The double meaning of your question didn't go unnoticed by Lo'ak and he could tell Neteyam understood it as well.
. . ⋆ ˖᯽ ݁
It was two weeks later that Lo'ak saw you and Neteyam in the same place together. Tsireya had informed them about a small cove that most teens went to every other week or so. He and his siblings had still not been socially accepted into the clan, and he figured it'd still be a long time until they were. But Tsireya had promised them nothing bad would occur. And with her being the Olo'eyktan and Tsahìk's kid, he figured she had small power about what was said.
So walking into the cove with Neteyam and Kiri, Lo'ak had to believe and hold on to hope about what Tsireya said. Already he was feeling skittish because upon arrival he could only name a few people. Aonung, Rotxo, Tsireya, and you.
And as Lo'ak moved further into the cove towards you guys he could see all the weary faces looking at them. It was also then that he noticed the guy sitting particularly close to you and as he looked down, he saw an unknown guy's hand resting on your thigh, quite high.
He turned to look at Kiri, and her face was full of regret, she often didn't care what people thought of her. But she'd rather not be subjected to a room full of people who she could tell didn't like her. When he turned to Neteyam he saw that his expression was completely different to Kiri's. He too had seen the hand resting on your thigh. Rather than the curiosity Lo'ak had felt when he saw it, Neteyam looked, well Lo'ak couldn't describe it. At best, it was the same expression Neteyam had back home when the sky people managed to take over more land.
"Lo'ak!" Yelled Tsireya. "Kiri! Neteyam! Come!" She had waved toward the three of them, signaling to sit by her. And Lo'ak's eyes lit up hard and he had almost ran towards her. Because one thing he wasn't going to do was give up the chance to be near her. While Lo'ak's actions and facial expressions were by no means sly but he tried to be when talking to her.
"Sup." He said to her.
He winced the second he'd said it. He expected her to laugh, but it didn't come. Instead your laugh came. You had looked at him with such amusement he couldn't help but laugh at himself. He knew you knew about his affection towards Tsireya, it seemed everyone did.
"Are you just going to stand there or are you going to sit down?" You said now looking right at Neteyam. A slight smirk on your face. Lo'ak had never seen Neteyam so out of his element. His eyes were darting around the cove and fists clenched together. He looked like a small yerik being cornered into his inevitable death.
You had that same look in your eyes from when Lo'ak first saw you, You understood that Neteyam wasn't used to not being the center of attention.
"C'mon sit. Buddy." You eventually spoke up, freeing Neteyam from the somewhat trance and hunters of eyes surrounding him.
Buddy. A human word. One his dad had taught him and his family. Occasionally calling them that when they were on good terms. It was that term that had signaled to Lo'ak that you and Neteyam had spent more time with one another than he, or anyone, had known.
Lo'ak was going to make a remark about your choice of words, but his attention was overtaken by the guy whose hand was on your thigh.
He had moved his leg to the clearly open spot right next to him. Blocking Neteyam from sitting down. Clearly not agreeing with your open invite.
You, Neteyam, and Lo'ak all huffed at this move.
Except it was only you who spoke up. "You scared Ralu? He doesn't bite." You said standing up, placing yourself between Neteyam and who Lo'ak now knew as Ralu, the one from the rocks.
"Move." You commanded him. "Since your so scared."
"I'm not scared." Ralu replied, yet still moving. It seemed everyone folded over at your demands.
"Sup." You had quietly said to Neteyam while sitting down, closer to him than you should've. But not enough that anyone would notice unless they were paying attention and Lo'ak was paying attention. You had laughed now looking straight at Lo'ak. Your choice of words was clearly to poke fun at him.
"Who would be scared of these freaks?" Someone interrupted.
Lo'ak winced, he immediately knew who said this.
Aonung.
Aonung had played a good game. Saving face in front of the elders, playing the role of the welcoming friend around them. Then turning around and saying things like this behind the elders back. To Lo'ak's face though he gave him credit for that.
"Dude.”
“Aonung."
You and Tsireya both called out to your brother at the same time. If Lo'ak were less mad, he'd take note of the other human word you had just used. Instead he heard the small mumbles of people agreeing all around them.
"What are their small limbs going to do?" Someone laughed, Lo'ak didn't care to know who he was.
Neteyam had now stood up, heading straight towards the guy. He said nothing but Lo'ak knew from the few times Neteyam let himself actually get angry, that he was pissed.
If they were back at home, surrounded by the trees and Neteyam had his small Olo'eyktan duties back, Lo'ak would be the one standing up trying to start something with this dude. But they weren't home. And Neteyam had since given up on his rule following behavior. But the sea, the people, and this new attitude was fairly new to Neteyam. So he didn't quite know when and when not to pick a fight. But Neteyam's ego was bruised so he stood up regardless. And about 10 Metkayina followed him.
Lo'ak loved his brother. Truly, but if he did manage to get into this fight, he would lose, very badly. And Lo'ak didn't feel like getting beat up today.
"Tough guy, aren't you?" The guy spat out. Lo'ak still didn't care to know who he was.
It seems you understood the predicament Neteyam found himself in. Most of the people here were stronger than Neteyam, the forest required long and slim limbs to climb and move through the trees but the sea required bigger shoulders and thicker limbs to pull yourself through the water.
"That's enough." You interjected now, stepping between Neteyam and this guy.
That guy's focus was still on Neteyam. But he laughed as he said, "You need the little princess to come save you?" His eyes move towards you at the word princess and then back to Neteyam.
"Really 'Etnatxu?" You said. "Princess." You spat that out as if it were a bug caught in your mouth. "You can't think of anything more clever?"
"What I can't think of is why you're standing up for these demons. Is it the same reason you're with Ralu?" 'Etnatxu said, laughing in your face. Lo'ak had guessed what he was implying, with that guys, Ralu as he now knows, having his hands placed all over your body. But Lo'ak didn't think you'd be that close with someone you'd just met. Especially Neteyam, he hated everything and everyone here.
In the next moment from what Lo'ak could tell, someone had punched 'Etnatxu. Lo'ak had seen the smallest bit of teal hit the man's cheek, but he couldn't be certain. Because after that he saw Neteyam go down, straddled by a member of the Metkayina clan.
Lo'ak didn't want to get beat up. But Neteyam was his brother and he'd do anything for him. So in a split second he'd gotten up, Tsireya's arm wrapped around his now gone, as he ran towards Neteyam.
Luck was never on Lo'ak's side, not even now. Because as he is running someone has plowed into him, digging him into the ground and punching his face. Lo'ak couldn't see much but heard a plethora of things, mostly yelling. Aonung yelling at someone to try it again. He heard the faint sound of Neteyam's hiss, one that he could recognize from all the training the had beside one another. You, yelling absurd things he didn't know were possible from the chiefs daughter.
Eventually, after one to many blows to the face, Lo'ak ended up on top of the guy, pushing him into the ground instead. And he'd felt Tsireya's arm back around him, pulling him off of whomever he was punching.
Her sweet voice has interrupted Lo'ak's thoughts. "Lo'ak stop. Lets go." She said pulling him back towards the opening of the cave.
Lo'ak still however was looking at the fight happening, Neteyam nowhere to be found. People were just hitting one another for the fun of it, it seemed.
"''Course I had fun sweetheart." Lo'ak heard Neteyam's voice call out. That was what got him to turn away from the fight. His voice held a hint of fun and admiration in it. Like he had just witnessed a baby taking its first steps.
Lo'ak would never, not ever let Neteyam live what he just found out down. So he had pulled Tsireya in your guy's direction, a smile taking over his whole face.
"Buddy?" Lo'ak questioned towards you, eyebrow raised. Hinting at the slip of words he heard you say earlier today.
"Skxawng." You replied, now resorting back to the na'vi language. Pushing Neteyam away from the crowd and therefore Lo'ak. Not as fast as you had hoped because Lo'ak still heard Neteyam's laugh as he walked away, hand in yours.
. . ⋆ ˖᯽ ݁
One thing Neteyam did like about being with the Metkayina, was the food. Something Lo'ak couldn't understand. He'd much rather eat a yerik than whatever this fish was.
"Eat your food." His mom said, clearly understanding the look plastered on Lo'ak's face.
Lo'ak whined, ready to spit out about how he doesn't like this and shouldn't be forced to eat it.
"Eat it boy." His father now said, not in the mood for Lo'ak's games. He wasn't particularly happy with them knowing they got into a fight not even a couple months here.
Lo'ak huffed, giving up already. "Don't huff, you can't listen to anything else we say you might as listen when we say: eat your food."
"Ma'jake." His mom said, hand outreaching to calm him down.
His father always had this trait to drag things on when Lo'ak was already over it. He was already mid bite when his dad decided to speak again. One trait Lo'ak did inherit from his dad, was the inability to let things go, to protect himself, his image, against anyone.
So his dad couldn't really blame him when he said, "We didn't start it."
"Dude." Neteyam finally spoke up.
"What? We didn't!" Lo'ak argued, still sticking up for himself.
"Then who did?" Questioned his father.
Lo'ak stilled at his fathers question. Lo'ak still hadn't figured that out. He was sitting with Tsireya while Neteyam and you were blocked from his vision by people surrounding you seconds before the fight started.
"Aonung did." Neteyam said quietly.
Loa's head snapped at that, Neteyam would never talk about to his father but also he would never lie to him. So he couldn't understand why of all the lies he decided to go with, he went with that one. it seemed his father didn't believe it either because he heard his fathers laugh. "You expect me to believe the chief's son started it?" His dad said.
If Neteyam were back home, he'd leave it at that. He wouldn't fight back but Neteyam felt as if he had nothing to lose. So he replied, "He was defending his sister."
If Lo'ak was certain of one thing, luck was never on his side, but it was always on Neteyam's. Because his father only responded with a small, "Get out."
His father was talking to Neteyam but Lo'ak couldn't help but also leave at his command. Holding in his laughter until he stepped outside the tent.
"Bro, I didn't know you had it in you." Lo'ak laughed, teasing his brother.
"Shut up." Neteyam responded.
Still laughing, they walked along the sand, another thing Lo'ak prefered compared to the grass. The sand was warm and soft between the toes. Lo'ak lost track on how many times he had stepped on a rock or a particularly sharp twig.
"I can't believe you started that fight." Lo'ak said. "Dude you're becoming me, I'm proud." His hands wrapped around Neteyam's face like a dotting mother really selling this attitude.
"I didn't start the fight. Aonung did, like I said." Neteyam replied.
"What? There's... no he didn't!" Lo'ak yelled. "Why would he defend us? Forest boys." Lo'ak's last remark came out almost like a whisper. He'd be dead before he actually told anyone that being outcast here sometimes got to him.
"He didn't. He defined his sister- you'd do the same." Neteyam said, cutting off his own sentence.
Lo'ak had no response to that, because he would. He'd defend Kiri and Tuk over and over again, even if it killed him. So he decided to change the conversation.
"So..." He trailed off, trying to beat around the bush. "Y/N."
The look Neteyam gave him would regularly sent Lo'ak into a laughing fit, but he didn't. If he e wanted to know what was happening between the two of you he needed to be serious.
"She's... well you two seem close." Lo'ak said.
"We're not- its none of your business." Neteyam said quickly, almost punching himself in the gut for lying.
Lo'ak wanted to bite, to get under Neteyam's skin. If there was one thing Lo'ak could do was get Neteyam mad and if he was mad then he could understand how he actually felt about you.
So, Lo'ak decided to say, "She's pretty."
Almost immediately Neteyam responded, "So is Tsireya."
Lo'ak laughed turning to look at the sunset that painted a pink and orange hue over the clan. He got it then, Lo'ak did think Tsireya was pretty, but hearing it out of Neteyam mouth made him feel two things. A small rush of tingle fell over his belly, that fact that people could so clearly see how he viewed Tsireya made him warm. He didn't even want to know what color his face was now. But also, a small dangerous feeling of anger took over him. However irrational it make seem, he still didn't like that comment coming from Neteyam. But the fact that Neteyam understood how this would make Neteyam feel, means he felt the same thing.
"Ok but those practices between the two of you. What's that?" Lo'ak asked.
"Aonung sucks and I'm not spending all day watching you look at Tsireya with hearts in your eyes." Neteyam responded.
"You sure have all the answers. Don't you buddy?" Lo'ak said, still talking about your choice of words that day from the fight.
Neteyam's face cringed at that. "Let that go." He laughed.
"How'd she learn that? I've never seen you that somewhere that wasn't practice."
"That's also none of your business."
'So you are going out with her in secret!" Lo'ak yelled, happy to at least get some information out of this conversation.
"Going out." Neteyam whispered. Seemingly unsure with how Lo'ak decided to word it.
"Complicated?" Lo'ak asked.
"Not yet." Neteyam responded.
Lo'ak sighed at Neteyam’s short responses. He obviously didn't want to give too much away.
"I can’t believe it. A couple of months and you already have... a girl." Lo'ak laughed.
Instead of responding Neteyam just laughed and walked ahead. Done with the conversation.
Lo'ak laughed at his brother’s retreat. He knew, whatever he got himself stuck between with himself and you, he'd be fine. Luck was always on Neteyam's side.
𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 instead of heading to the reef clans, jake sully takes his family to search for the herwìslär clan, the snow people. despite her cold demeanor that rivals that of the weather outside, neteyam cannot help himself upon falling for the olo'eyktans daughter. only you seem to not want him, and he cannot understand why.
ᶜʷ cannon divergence, rude(?) reader, yearning, my baby lo’ak being an ass for a minute, sharing a bed(kinda), ‘i dont want ninat’ vibes, reader and neteyam are lowk jake and neytiri 2.0, misunderstandings, tshaeylu, suggestive content, angst?(happy ending), a child
ʷᶜ 12.6k
A fresh hunt meant there was much to do.
Every part of a kill was to be used. It could be detrimental to the people if even a single part was discarded. In the harsh conditions of the frozen taiga you called home, every part of a kill must be used.
You were stood over a square frame, currently tying a fresh pelt onto it. After tightening each side multiple times to ensure that the pelt was pulled to its max, you began shaving away at the various layers of fat.
Proper technique must be used when shaving the fat away. If you angle the knife improperly you may tear through the pelt, rendering it useless. Yet the motions are calming to you, it being something you’ve done for many years.
Various other clan women are also completing the same tasks, idle chatter falling around you. Many are pleased with the result of this hunt, some gloat over the kills their mates or children have made, a few congratulate you on the kills you made today as well.
The corners of your lips tilt upwards, a pleased grin settling on your cheeks. As the Olo’eyktan and Tsahik’s oldest child duty settled heavy on your shoulders. A good hunt today meant that the clan would be happy for at least a week, which meant that your parents would be happy for the week, so you could also be happy for the week.
“I heard you killed the largest her’ang today,” Posma whispered next to you. Your ear flicks, as the words take form in your head.
She was correct to hear that you had killed the biggest her’ang, but you did not say that to anyone. You would never boast about such a thing.
“Who said that?” Your hand pauses in its motion as you turn your head, refusing to slice without eyes on your target.
Posma giggles at you, she is one of your oldest friends, the two of you being together since you could only toddle along the furs. “It does not matter. You should be proud.”
“Being proud is not becoming.”
“It’s not unbecoming!”
You huff, “There is a fine line between being proud and being pompous. Most toe the line, I do not desire to do such a thing.”
You turn your head back towards your work. Shearing the last few pieces of fat from the pelt you sheath your knife. Due to its curved shape you must tie it before you can move onto your next task.
As you’re scooping your curved fingers into a jar filled with salt Posma continues, “You would not. It would not deter anyone if you were to take some satisfaction in your accomplishments.”
“Focus on your duties Posma.” You flick your tail in her direction, trying to shoo her away, “We can participate in such discussions later.”
Your fingers splay the salt in a decently thick coating across the pelt. It must be enough to thoroughly dry the pelt, but it cannot be too much where the pelt cannot breathe. A final glance across the entire pelt leaves you with the conclusion that you can leave it for the night and check upon it again tomorrow.
You turn to leave, wanting to know how the rest of the preparations of the kills are going. But you make sure to call out to Posma one more time before you leave, “You will sit next to me tonight?”
Her cheery reply follows less than a second later, “Always!”
Hometree and most of the clan's establishments resided underground, deeply embedded into the ground. It was much warmer there than temperatures outside, but furs and pelts were still required if you desired to be a comfortable temperature while walking around.
You move towards the outer areas of the village, wanting to see if every kill has been brought in yet. However on your way there a shot of your name makes you still in your path.
It is Huamtey who calls you. One of the clan warriors, one that you were out hunting with just earlier today. “You must come, I cannot find the Olo’eyktan.”
“My father is missing?”
“You misunderstand, I believe he is tied up with other duties and I cannot find him.” Huamtey grimaces a little, nervous of your reaction to his miscommunication, “The sentries said they are hearing foreign wails, I was hoping the Olo’eyktan would lead the search.”
“But I am the next best thing?”
“You are mighty. We would be honored if you guided us.”
A smile graces your lips as you nod. Whatever beast resided outside the village gates, you and this search party would slay it. Whatever it was would not harm your people.
As you emerge from the gates, you raise your hand in greeting to the sentries. Then you lay your eyes upon the group. It is small, only eight of them, but it would do. You had killed big predators with less people.
A deep call resonates in your throat, but your lips stay sealed. You repeat the call a few times, urging your mount to approach. In the distance you can see shifting between the trees, your legs carry you forward to meet it halfway. As you approach your herwanpalu a rough, loud rumbling emerges from deep in his chest.
He is happy to see you so soon. Your hand reaches out to scratch along his forehead eventually falling behind one of his ears. You saddle him, tightening the straps before turning back towards the group. “Let us go, it will be dark soon.”
It is hard to miss the yowls of the unknown creatures. They are sharp, and loud – one might assume that they were calling out, searching for something. But that would be a naive thought, there were only predators and prey in this taiga, and this thing would become prey whether it wanted to or not.
The calls lead the nine of you to the tundra. No trees reside here making it risky hunting grounds. But if the beast wanted to fight here, who were you to deny it?
You first scan the ground, searching for some large disfigured creature to be staring back at you. You find none, instead you see five shadows seemingly circling around. When you look up you see bright and deeply shaded creatures.
Ones that you’ve never seen before. They’re colors you’re familiar with, seeing them in the summer months, but they definitely do not belong here in winter. You start making motions with your hands, dividing and directing the group so you could circle them.
The members are to find a good angle, one that they can get a presumed clean kill shot from. On your mark they will take it, if you’re lucky all five will go down at once. An immaculate feat, one you would shortly be discussing over fresh meat at the cookfire.
The white of the pelts blends nicely with the herwanpalu furs, and their furs blend almost seamlessly with the snow. The flying creatures shouldn’t be able to see any danger until it is too late.
You raise your bow, aiming for the chest cavity of the beast. You can hear a hunting call come from your right, another from your left – it was time to strike. When your arrow sailed, theirs would fly too.
But then you falter. There is something atop the creature. Could it be mangkwan? No. They never ventured to these parts, it being far too cold for their hot nature.
“Hold!” You hiss, just loud enough for the group to hear. “Hold position, do not reveal yourselves. I will make contact.”
You dismount your herwanpalu, slinging your bow back over your shoulder and flipping your hood down. You shout, “If you wish to live, land your beast and surrender!”
The call triggers a response. At first the beasts begin banking tightly left and right, granting their riders better visibility to the land below. And then they descend and land.
You allow them to clamber off of their mounts, to come to stand before you before questioning, “Who are you?”
“We seek uturu.”
“Who are you to seek uturu?”
“I am Jake Sully, my mate Neytiri, and our children. You’re from the Herwìslär clan right?” His hands are upturned trying to seem like he is not a threat. You step to the side, eyeing his family. They looked to be cold, slightly huddled together, their animal hide cloaks doing nothing to shield them from the freezing tundra temperatures.
You’re skeptical. They may be trying to cause chaos, to destroy the clan from the inside out. The doubt flows entirely through your body, your tail lashing, ears pressed tightly to your skull. It triggers Neytiri to speak.
“My husband was Toruk Makto. He brought the clans together against the sky people.”
Toruk Makto? This man was Toruk Makto? That was not a name to be taken lightly, the stories of a great flying beast, the scariest thing in the sky; and the very few Na’vi who were able to tame it were named Toruk Makto.
If these Na’vi were any bit honorable they would not throw the title around. You could indulge them at the very least, bring them in and if they misbehaved take them as prisoners.
“Reveal yourselves!” Your voice booms out across the tundra. Jake Sully and his family flinch, surprised at the sudden burst of energy. Their heads whipping around at the sudden movement of the warriors around you.
Then you point, “You will follow me. And they,” Your hand changes direction towards the warriors, “Will follow you. Come.”
As you direct them back towards the village you can only imagine what your father will think. If he will believe that you made the right choice, or if he will be disappointed that you risked the safety of the clan.
You motion the sentries to open the gate, allowing you entrance to the village. One of the warriors runs ahead to go retrieve your father. You continue to bring the Sullys forwards, deeper into the village.
“Where are we going?”
It is Jake who speaks up. Apparently the only one with a voice in his family. You spare him a glance, seeing the apprehension clear on his face.
“To see the Olo’eyktan. He will decide your fate.”
That seems to settle him. Neytiri begins whispering something, keeping it low enough that even just a few feet away you cannot hear them chatter. It did not matter though, your father approached and their fates would soon be sealed.
Your father stands strong. If his furs did not differentiate him from the rest of the clan, then surely the necklace and beaded covering that rested on top of them would. The deep black tattoos in distinctive lines decorated his face more than others.
But if none of that directed the Sully's to who this was, then his presence must have. It commanded attention more so than others, leaving you nowhere else to look.
You take the last few steps to him as he opens his mouth to speak, “What is this?”
“They seek uturu. Apparently the father is Toruk Makto.” You meet his eyes briefly, before walking past him and turning to stand slightly behind him.
“Toruk Makto seeks uturu with us? The Herwìslär people?”
Jake nods “Yes. We will learn your ways, be helpful, right?” He turns, nodding to his family, encouraging them to agree with his statements.
“It will be tough, difficult to teach who has already been taught.”
“We can learn. We can adapt. We will adapt.”
“Then it is decided.” Your father steps forwards, reaching his arm out in the traditional Na’vi binding contract, “Toruk Makto and his family will receive uturu with us! Teach them our ways, and treat them as our own!”
As Jake wraps his hand around your fathers forearm, your father continues his brief speech, “You may learn with me, your mate with mine. My daughter will teach your children the ways. Nume nìwin.”
As they separate you rush to your fathers side. “Father. They are dark, they will easily attract attention when hunting.”
“Then you will give them extra pelts to cover.” He dismisses you easily, readily moving direct people to either help the Sullys to a kelku, or return to their prior duties.
“But look at their tails! They will freeze off when the winter gets harsher.”
“Pelts, again daughter.”
“And their eyes! The brightness will make it difficult to see when they leave the village!”
“You are to teach them our ways.” He turns, locking you in place with a pointed stare, “Do not make me repeat myself, and do not give more excuses as to how useless they will be without seeing their capabilities.”
You tuck into yourself. Abashed at being reprimanded and dismissed out in public, you turn back to the Sullys, “Come I will bring you to your kelku, so you may drop off your things. Then we will go get pelts so you do not freeze to death.”
Looks like you would not be sitting with Posma at the cookfire.
“Not like that.” You tug Neteyams hands away from the pelt and fur he is stitching together. You begin unstitching the progress he has made.
Neteyam is watching your movements carefully, “What was I doing wrong?”
His voice is curious – a genuineness to it that makes you want to believe that he truly wants to make it better.
“Your stitch would allow air to slip between the pelt and the fur. It would not insulate properly.” You take the needle crafted of bone from his hand and begin to stitch slowly, “When you stitch like this it traps the heat, pushing it back onto your body instead of allowing it to escape.”
You hand the coat back to Neteyam first, then the needle. He nods at you before beginning to stitch the same way you showed him. When you are content with how he is working you spare a glance at the rest of the group.
Posma and Tempat have joined you in your duties. They seem to be working well with the remaining Sully kids. Posma guiding Kiri and Tuk, while Tempat is stuck with Lo'ak.
Fur binding is one of the most essential skills that a Herwìslär member must know. It is something that you learn as a child. As if you were to get lost or stranded and cannot craft a proper coat you will freeze to death.
You wish you were hunting today. Or drying pelts. Even foraging would be more preferable. You truly wish you were doing anything else besides teaching remedial skills to mostly grown Na'vi.
Before your mind can drift Neteyam calls you softly, when you turn your head he hands over the coat again. “Did I do it properly?”
You turn it over in your palms. Visually the stitches seem good, like they will hold. Then you begin tugging roughly around the seams. If the stitching was bad, they would burst from your onslaught.
However, they don’t. You smile a little when you hand Neteyam his coat again, “It will hold. Good work.”
He smiles at that. Proud at being able to adapt like his father said, to make something of his own in a new clan, and maybe just a little bit at your smile. He has not seen you smile often since his family has arrived, and for him to be the cause of your baby blue cheeks raising to make space for the upturn of your lips makes satisfaction settle warm in his chest.
Lo’ak’s whine drags your attention away, “When are we gonna ride a mount?”
“Soon.”
“When is soon? We have been cooped up in here for days now.”
“Lo’ak!” Neteyam smacks the back of his head, “Apologize.”
Before Lo’ak can open his mouth again, you laugh a little. You suppose they must be feeling like caged animals, not seeing the true sky for many nights as the pelts they received on the first night were not well fitted for taiga exploration.
And you were just thinking about wanting to be anywhere but here. Itching to go outside and to have the fresh frozen air sting your lungs.
“Come, we can attempt to ride with your new furs.”
Lo’ak is smiling, but then he realizes you did not promise a ride. “Attempt?”
“Yes. Herwanpalu do not allow just anyone to ride.”
“So they are like ikran, one rider for one mount.”
Posma speaks then, “Not particularly! Some herwanpalu are more friendly, and they allow multiple riders. Others are possessive, even going to great lengths to prevent their riders from mounting another.”
Her light, happy tone helps settle the Sully children a little bit. If she mentioned it, that must mean that there are plenty of herwanpalu willing to allow them to ride.
As your small group emerges out of the gate and into the taiga in front of you, you begin grunting. The sound comes from the back of your throat, with your lips closed. Posma and Tempat follow you, making their own sounds.
“Each herwanpalu comes at a specific call.” You turn to face the Sullys as you explain, “We teach them their calls as cubs, when they are most impressionable. Some will answer when any use their call, others may refuse as Posma said.”
Your mount approaches. He circles you while purring, before turning to sniff at the air where the Sullys stand. Now that he has come, you begin a new call, urging another friendlier mount to come.
“This is Wi’tsin.” You pet his head lovingly as Tuk approaches, “He and I have been together many years. He is one of the more possessive mounts that Posma had mentioned.”
While he may have been possessive, Wi’tsin would not hurt anyone you showed favor to. He allows the Sullys to pet him, to feel the difference of his furs.
Tuk hasn’t taken her hands off him, she seems to be enamoured with the softness of him, “Can I ride him?”
“You may join me if your siblings allow it.”
She whips around facing Neteyam with a dragged out pleaseeee. You can see the fondness in his eyes even though his expression remains contemplative. But then he nods, “I suppose she is more experienced and it would be a better ride.”
He was right, it would be a better ride with you. No tumbling, or fighting for control. She would have a good time. So after you get everyone else settled, get them saddled up and positioned correctly on the mounts you tug Tuk up onto Wi’tsin.
“We will head to the lake, then return.” You motion your mount to move through the bond, “It is a simple ride, the perfect opportunity to learn the mounts.”
While the herwanpalu were not difficult mounts to ride, it was still new to the Sullys. They would need to learn the breathing patterns of the beasts. Need to learn how their paws felt pressing into the snow. How their ears were attuned to even the smallest critters, and their tails swished to allow them quick turns.
The first bit of the trek, you direct them to walk. To zig and zag through the trees, to feel the curve of the herwanpalu’s spine. To understand how swiftly they can move.
It goes about as well as you would assume. Lo’ak falls off on his first turn, telling the herwanpalu to move faster than you had told him to. He was unused to how to move his body in turn with the mounts, so when she dove to avoid a tree he flew off her back.
You show them that the mounts may also be used for climbing, demonstrating with Tuk and yourself upon a tree. It is then that Kiri falls off. On her recount she ‘misjudged how rough her mount would slam onto the tree’ and then the story shortly changed to being shocked at the feeling of the bark underneath the mount's claws course through her fingers.
By the time you make it to the lake the only one to not make a fool of themselves and take a tumble in the fresh snowfall is Neteyam. He took every motion with stride, moved with the mount as if they were one. He curved his spine on the sharp turns, and pressed himself into the furs and saddle while climbing up the trees.
“This is the grand lake. It thaws in the warmer months, allowing for free fishing and swimming.” As you monologue, you begin to walk out towards the center of the lake, “Most of it freezes during the winter, but we carve into the ice to allow for fishing. Would you like to try?”
“We know how to fish, zusawkrr olo’eyk
te.” Lo’ak laughs as if it is childish to assume they don’t know how to fish.
That they don’t know how to carve the ice. That they don’t know they must tie some twine to the end of their arrows. That they don’t know how important it is to angle properly, and strike as soon as they see their target.
So instead of helping them, you decide to let them figure it out themselves. Striding back over to Wi’tsin, you dig into a woven bag attached to his saddle. You place the serrated crystal knife into Lo’ak’s hand and gesture towards the ice at his feet, “Show me.”
It does not go well.
Lo’ak doesn’t carve deep enough the first time, so Tempat takes the knife and shows him how to properly carve into the ice.
You have to admit that he does take a good shot. His arrow is aimed well, sinking directly into his kill. But without any twine, there is no way to drag it back to the surface.
Lo’ak has been teasing you since the Sullys arrived. Trying to poke the right buttons. Attempting to break your composure. You assume comedy is his comfort, so it does not offend you.
But it does little to soften you to the Sullys. Still not believing they could be useful, that they could fully acclimate to your people.
Their ability to ride the herwanpalu does little to change your mind. If they wanted to survive here, they would have to learn this mount at the minimum.
Nonetheless you are pleased with their progress towards becoming competent.
Pleased that you are one step closer to not having to see them unless you desired.
It’s late, the cookfire nearly being diminished to embers.
A few weeks have passed since you taught him and his siblings how to ride their first Herwìslär mount. The rest of their lessons have been going smoothly since.
You had just allowed Neteyam and Lo’ak to join on their first group hunt. Tonight's dinner being partially the fruits of their labor. So when Neteyam approaches you, you decide to grant him a small smile.
He tries to smile back, it looks more like a grimace however, with how his eyebrows are pinched and his eyes are lost in thought. “You know I was a warrior with the Omatikaya.”
You nod, well aware of his past.
“I wish to become a warrior here too.”
It was not an outlandish thing to ask. He wanted responsibility, to prove himself in the clan. But it was risky; the Herwìslär final rite of passage being taming their own flying mount. You assume it also has something to do with how his mother and fathers txawuks have recently matured.
You must tame it while it is a juvenile, making the bond when it is still young. They are ridable from the time of taming, but it still takes a few months for them to reach full size.
It is of utmost importance to avoid the mother. Many Na’vi have passed from the trial; dying from the fall, succumbing to their injuries, or never returning after interacting with the mother.
“You are not ready. The txawuk are not forgiving.”
He shuffles into a seat next to you, “Ikran try to kill us as well. It is how we know we picked the proper mount, as they must also pick us.”
You run your tongue across your bottom teeth. Shaking your head lightly as you weigh your choices, as you debate Neteyam’s odds.
He speaks again when you don’t respond, “I am strong. You have seen me hunt, I am reliable. I can do this.”
“I cannot save you if something goes wrong.” You side eye him, “If you slip, if you are bitten, if you do not seal the bond, I cannot interfere.”
“I will not fail. My fingers will not lose their grip, and my reflexes will not slow.”
You click your tongue in annoyance. Neteyam was not giving this up, you would grant him his request if he completed a final test.
“You will hunt a her’ang tomorrow, without assistance.” You turn to face him, greyed out green eyes staring into his amber ones, “If you complete the test I will grant your request to complete your final rite and be welcomed into the arms of the people as one of us.”
Neteyam smiles then, it’s more boyish than you’ve seen him smile. A warmth blooms in your chest as you admire him, finally beginning to see him as one of the people. To allow yourself to view all possibilities of him.
“I will not fail.” Neteyam reiterates. Overjoyed that he’s so close to getting his wish granted.
You send him off to sleep then, informing him that it would be a long and tiring hunt and he needed his energy. You follow shortly after retiring to your own kelku.
In the morning you inform your father that you will be gone on a hunt. He reminds you that the winds shifted yesterday, that the skies in the distance looked to be gray with snowfall.
But you brush him off. You’ve hunted in storms before, been stuck out in the wilderness in even the harshest of winds and temperatures. And if Neteyam wanted to become a warrior in the eyes of your people, he would have to prove himself in all conditions.
So the two of you head out, dressed in the warmest furs, quivers full where they are attached to your herwanpalu’s, spare paint hanging from your tewng in case yours came off in the snowfall. The snow is light at the start of your hunt, coming down fast but not enough to obscure your vision.
You are only there to observe, to step in if everything goes terribly wrong. Neteyam leads, tracking the her’ang up a mountain. The tracking gets difficult then, old prints getting frosted over in new snowfall.
Maybe you underestimated the snow. It was falling heavier than you thought it would, and Neteyam was too stubborn to make camp earlier in the night when there was still light to aid you.
So you call out to him, hoping it reaches his ears despite the howling winds, “Neteyam!”
He turns to face you, his hood resting heavy over his forehead. He waits for you to reach him, “What is it?”
“We must find shelter.”
“But we are so close!”
Neteyam was always the responsible one of his siblings. Always the one to pull back before things could escalate so it made no sense why he would be so set on staying out in these harsh conditions.
“I know you cannot feel your toes! And that your fingers feel as if they will fall off even when tucked into your furs!” You’re peering at him through snow-crusted lashes, “There is a cave, in that part of the mountainside! I have rested there before, come!”
You don’t allow him to protest, directing Wi’tsin towards the cave. The two of you needed to get out of the snow as soon as possible. Needed to start a fire, and regain circulation in your phalanges before you lost them.
When you get to the deepest part of the cave Neteyam speaks up again. “I am sorry. I shouldn’t have forced us to go deeper.”
“Do not apologize.” You begin sparking stones together to start a fire, “Eagerness is nothing to be ashamed of.”
The two of you do not speak much. Neteyam thinking about how difficult it would be to find the her’ang in the morning, how if it continued moving in the storm he would never see it again. You debating how long it would be before you could return home.
As the night goes on the snow does not relent. It filters into the cave, resting softly in the mouth waiting to dissolve in the morning.
The chill in the air sends shivers up your spine. Even though you have experienced many overnight hunts, on most of them you had properly insulated shelters. If you did not, you at least did not have the snow blowing at you.
The furs and the fire do nothing to quell the nip in the air. Nothing to soothe the ache in your chest from inhaling the frozen air. You shift, unfurling from the ball you curled yourself into before peering at where Wi’tsin is.
Maybe you could curl up with him, allowing his furs to warm you along with your own. But you cannot bring yourself to call to him, he is huddled closely with Neteyam’s herwanpalu. The two of them sharing body heat to fight off the cold.
You suppose it was a good idea. That it could be a useful tool, especially if Eywa's creation was also partaking. So you call softly to Neteyam.
If he was asleep you did not wish to wake him, but you knew his sharp ears would pick up on your voice if he was still awake.
It takes a few moments, but he slowly shifts to face you. “What is it? Are you alright?”
“Are you cold?”
He laughs at the stupidity of your question, the breaths he heave fog up in front of you, “Yes. I am cold.”
“Would you like to…” Oh Eywa this was embarrassing. “Would you like to share body heat?”
“What?” Neteyam's disbelieved tone comes softly across the fire, the crackling nearly covering it completely.
“We can rest on your fur, or mine, and rest the other above us so that we can trap all the heat together.”
He nods, “All right.”
You shuffle over quickly. Ushering him to take off his fur as you toss yours on the stone ground of the cave. As he shrugs it off his shoulders you smooth out your fur and plant yourself on the left side.
As Neteyam settles on the right side he tosses his pelt over you, tugging it over himself until it rests comfortably over both of you.
He notices your distance. It's clear that despite being the one to suggest being close, you're trying to stay away from him.
Believing it to be because of him, he reassures you, “You can come closer. I do not mind.”
“No, it is fine. Just give it a few minutes. The heat will accumulate soon.”
Then your eyes are closing. Dismissing him as the slightest bit of heat settles around you.
It takes Neteyam a bit longer to fall asleep. He's been infatuated since the moment he first saw you after landing his ikran in the snowy plain.
The misty blue tone your skin had, and the slate blue stripes that seemed to wrap around your body in more wispy patterns than he had ever seen on someone from the Omatikaya.
The pattern your bioluminescent freckles made upon your face, some of them even gleaming brightly underneath the black paint you had plastered across your eyes.
The tattoo you had on your chin. One line leading seemingly from your mouth, down the middle of your lip and chin to where it ended somewhere between your jawline and neck. Two dotted lines frame the one solid line, following its path down your chin.
And now he's getting to see it all up close. To stare at you unabashed. So Eywa forgive him if he resists sleep for a while to admire.
Eventually his eyelids drift close from exhaustion. But the chill in the air does not stop just because the two of you are under the same fur.
Unconsciously, the two of you drift closer together; moving towards the warmth the other is emanating. You turn from facing him, your back now pressing into his front.
You wake slowly. Eyes blinking languidly as they try to scrunch to remove the crust that has settled on your inner eyes.
You don't recognize the warmth at your back at first. Assuming it is just from your heat getting trapped between the pelts. Then there's a soft exhale on your cheek.
Your body stills completely, eyes widening in shock, while you try to slow your own breathing so as to not startle whatever beast is looming over you. When you slide your eyes up towards the ceiling of the cave and spot nothing, a confused look graces your features.
Upon turning slightly, you're met with Neteyam's neck. It's then that you realize he has a grip around your waist. That your legs are tangled with his. And that his chest is pressed tightly to your back.
What had happened while you were asleep? How did you end up all the way in his personal space? Or did he inch his way into yours?
You shift to leave. Slowly untangling your legs, then you try to remove his grasp on your waist. In your shifting Neteyam stirs, grip tightening until you clear your throat lightly.
“Oh. I am sorry.” An indigo tint rises to his cheeks in embarrassment.
“It is fine. We must have shifted towards each other's warmth.” You want to sit, want to sling your fur back on and shrink back into yourself. But Neteyam is still lying down, still waking from his rest.
“You did not mind?” A slight upturn graces his lips.
A blush graces your cheeks now, “It was out of necessity.”
“Would you have minded if it had not been out of necessity?”
You huff. Sitting up despite the cold, allowing your skin to prickle at the temperature. “Focus on becoming one of the people, then you may ask me such questions.”
Neteyam moves as you do, quickly donning his fur and moving off of yours so that you may dress as well.
He hunts well that day. Tracks fast. Moving as one with the cold.
The bite in his lungs urging him to move swiftly, but not brashly.
When the two of you come close to the her'ang, you still. Using your mounts to become one with the trees.
Neteyam takes atypical aim, piercing through the beast's skull instead of its heart. But you whoop and yip all the same once the kill is made. Proud that he has accomplished such a task on his own.
Proud that he will soon claim his txawuk.
Proud that he will be one of your people soon.
When you finally return to the village the rest of the clan's people react the same. You usher Neteyam to them as you haul his kill to be skinned and broken down into all its pieces.
Your favorite member of the family is Tuk. Children are the most impressionable, and she takes well to your customs.
She adores your carvings made of bone. Nestles into the furs you’ve gifted her. Asks to go on rides on Wi’tsin whenever you have free time. And if you cannot take her, she runs to one of the many friends she's made in your clan.
But you make a special exception for Neteyam in your heart after waking up with him in the cave. The past months spent with him have a new look to them, a brighter hue as you see all his redeeming qualities.
It was an old tradition to have one of your most honored furs be that of the first her'ang you killed by your lonesome. You had not passed the knowledge to Neteyam, deciding it would make for a good surprise. One last gift before he joined your people as a warrior.
So you personally skin the beast. Tie it to the drying posts. Paste salts upon it. Then you wait.
Four days pass before the furs are ready.
Your patience almost wore thin, almost believing that they would not be ready before he took on his final rite. But thank Eywa, they were ready.
Your stride is soft as you approach the Sully tent, not wanting to wake anyone still sleeping inside. You can hear murmurs whispering from inside, but pay them no mind. Most of the village has not risen yet and it would be rude to speak in loud tones.
A familiar name passes through the conversation though. Your name is sounded out by Lo’ak’s voice – it is then that you decide to listen instead of making your presence known.
“I’m just sayin bro. You’ve got her sweet on you after your hunt.”
Neteyam laughs a bit boyishly, “It is not like that.”
“Yeah but even Tuk couldn’t get her to let up on us. Always nagging about the clan ways, and how we wouldn’t fit.”
Oh Eywa forbid you were skeptical that Na’vi that came from a tropical climate would have a hard time adjusting.
“She likes Tuk. They do many things together.”
“Sure, but she still hounded us. You, me and Kiri had to learn so much. And she didn’t even give us compassion for the simple fact that we were here because of uturu!”
A sigh resonates in the space. You can hear some shuffling before Neteyams voice sounds again.
“She just worries for the future, Lo’ak. A heavy title rests on her shoulders.”
“Yeah but she didn’t have to be such an ass about it.”
You were brash, sure. Drilled your customs into their skulls. Made them practice the same tasks a hundred times.
But they were things you had done thousands of times, things any person their age was well familiar with. And if they wanted to be sure members in your clan, then they needed to be able to complete the tasks without needing assistance.
“Listen, I’m just saying thanks for working her so that we could catch a break, I knew you’d come around.”
Working you? This whole time Neteyam was just feeding into you, trying to receive your affections so his siblings would not have to hear from you?
You supposed you were tough on them. But you did not threaten to skin them, did not shy away from their jokes or their teasing. If they wanted to take things slower, or differentiate the skills they practiced, why not just say something?
Despite yourself, when a sinking feeling invades your chest, you realize that you did come to like them. That you enjoyed their company, and could even see yourself spending time with them after they had been properly integrated into the clan.
Clearly your sentiments were not returned.
Lo’ak and Kiri were far enough in their rites that you did not have to deal with them anymore. Tuk could join the other young children at this point. And Neteyam would be finishing his final rite shortly, freeing you of his presence.
You did not need to make a scene. Did not need to confront them for their hurtful words, you were never meant to hear them anyway.
You were meant to play into the role. Get strung along by Neteyam for Eywa knows how long. And to be cast aside when he chose someone else.
Turning on your heel you head back towards the village center. Tempat and Posma are there, waiting eagerly for Neteyam’s send off.
“I am feeling unwell, perhaps some bad fruit at the cookfire last night.” Hastily, you thrust the furs from Neteyam’s kill into Posma’s arms, “Can one of you guide him today?”
Posma replies, a concerned glint in her eyes at your unusual behavior, “Of course! Go rest, you will not want to miss the celebration later.”
Hours later after Neteyam has left on his journey Posma pokes her head into your kelku. She spots you curled up on your bed of furs and pelts, submerged to the point that she only notices from the uneven lump.
“I had Tempat lead Neteyam.”
You only glance at her from your heap. Eyes blinking slowly as acknowledgement.
She sheds the furs that adorn her shoulders, then lifts the ones that rest on top of you. Climbing in and cradling your head to her chest she speaks again, “What has happened?”
“It does not matter.”
The rumble of laughter in her chest is comforting. If you closed your eyes and focused enough maybe it could lull you back to sleep.
“I think it does.” Her hand begins stroking through your braids, slightly scratching on their way down then smoothing again on the next pass. “You were very proud, very excited, to give Neteyam his furs.”
“He received them did he not?”
“He did. But he does not know the love and attention that was put into them.”
You lift your head, eyes meeting Posmas, “You did not sell me out?”
“Of course not! You are my tsmuke, blood or not, and he is just a boy.”
Your eyes begin to tear at that. If he would treat you so cruelly in private, while being so kind to your face, then he is just a boy. At some point, your few tears turn into sobs. The crashing weight of everything finally collapsing onto you.
Your endless duties meant that you did not have time to form bonds outside of your few friends. That you did not have time to seek a mate, to ask for Eywa’s blessing. And it had seemed as if one was handed to you on a silver platter.
Neteyam was well fit to be Olo’eyktan, he had spent his entire life training for it with the Omatikaya. And you had learned both the Olo’eyktan and Tsahik responsibilities – well prepared to lead on your own, or with someone standing by your side.
He had listened. Had encouraged you to speak about your childhood eagerly, wanting to hear how the lesson for the day tied into Herwìslär culture.
He made it a point to come and find you even after you had dismissed his siblings. You had thought it had been to spend time with you, under the guise of studying.
Thought that his interest in your clans weaving techniques could have possibly meant him looking into your clans courting techniques.
Eywa. You even thought that some part of him deciding to complete the most dangerous rite was so that he could pick a mate in your people. That he could ask your father to court you and eventually take you as his mate.
Now you know that it all was so Lo’ak and Kiri could frolic around the village without you to guide them.
Without you breathing down their necks, trying to ensure that they were completely set before you sent them off on their own.
But as you had thought earlier, the Sully kids did not need you anymore. You’re sure of it when your mother returns home and informs you of Neteyam returning with a txawuk.
Good for him. Great for you. You could finally return to the way your life had been, to only completing your trainings and duties and spending your free time however you pleased.
You do not attend the gathering that night to celebrate Neteyam’s accomplishment. Still feigning illness.
You ignore the disappointment at not celebrating his achievement with him. However, it does not matter, the wound is still fresh.
It remains fresh for weeks. You go from just avoiding Neteyam to no longer speaking to Kiri, even leaving your sessions with your mother when she decides to join. You avoid Lo’ak at all costs, his shouts of zusawkrr olo’eykte! go unanswered. When Tuk asks you to take her out for rides, you instead redirect her towards her siblings, and if they are busy you remind her that Posma or Tempat would take her if she truly desired to go.
Your new pattern is not difficult. In fact, you quite like it. Like the fact that you have time to focus on yourself again. That you can refocus on learning how to best lead your people.
Neteyam had expected you to guide him when he completed his last rite. That even if you said you could not interfere, that you could not catch him when he fell, that you would at least be there with him. Your presence enough to give him some calmness in his death-defying moment.
But you are not there when he arrives. Posma is there, Tempat too. They greet him excitedly, bestowing him a gift in the form of the furs of his first solo her’ang kill.
It's only when Tempat ushers him forward that he questions where you are. Why they were leaving without his kayru.
A sad smile graces their features when they tell him you are sick. That you went home to recover before the celebration that would be held in his honor tonight.
It gave him some peace. Knowing that you weren’t missing the event because you wanted to, but because of an illness. The peace fades as worry ebbs in, what had gotten you sick? It must have been bad if you couldn't at least see him off.
No matter, he could ask you all about it when he returned. Inquire about your illness, then talk your ear off about how the rite went. Afterwards he'd beg you to compare it to yours.
Always eager to learn about you. To learn about your people. To meld to your ways.
He wondered what age you were when you completed the rite. Who went with you? How many younglings were there to choose from? What drew you to the one you picked?
So many questions that he never got answers to. You never showed at the celebration. Lo'ak thought you just must have been missing each other; perfectly coasting around the gathering at exact opposite points. Neteyam knew better though.
He saw Posma come by, share her joy for him, then stop and grab two food wraps before venturing off again. Neteyam would try to deny it, to refuse that she was bringing the second wrap for you, but he knew better.
Had you been consumed with your duties today? That wouldn't make sense, he was one of your duties so you should have been with him. But it would be fine, he would see you tomorrow and all would be well.
But then tomorrow comes and you do not greet the Sully children in the morning. Do not find them at their kelku, do not surprise them from behind as they meander towards the village center. There is nothing that even hints at your presence.
Neteyam’s able to find Tempat. Calling out to him and rushing to his side. “Is she still sick?”
Tempat smiles brightly at him, “Oh, no. You have completed your last rite, and your siblings are far enough that they can join the others their age!”
“So that is it?”
Tempat nods, speaking something about them being able to do whatever they pleased when their duties were completed.
But Neteyam wanted to see you. That was what would please him. Yet he cannot seem to grasp a moment of your time.
It has now been a full moon cycle since Neteyam has spoken to you.
Something gnaws at his chest uncomfortably. He went from spending every moment with you, to now being lucky if he can catch a glimpse of your furs through the crowd.
Every hunt he attends, you miss. Every call of your name is ignored. Every trip Posma and Tempat take him and his siblings on, you do not attend.
He tries to sit near you at the cookfires, engage in your circle of friends. Anytime he gets close you politely excuse yourself, planting yourself firmly between your parents. He considers approaching, it may work in his favor.
Your father had ordered you to speak to him and his siblings before, maybe it would be the same now. But he thinks back on how angry it had made you, how at first you only spent time with them because you were bound by duty to. He wanted you to talk with him because you wanted to; not because you were forced.
So he keeps trying his luck in other forms.
He joins the women as they dry pelts and furs – ignores how when you see him you retreat.
He spends much time carving. Honing in on his ability to carve into bone, to make intricate patterns in it.
He hunts and goes for flights, spending as much time as he's allowed away from the village. Trying to will his tropical skin to fade, for it to become well resistant to the cold of your home.
After two moon cycles of not speaking with you he confronts Posma.
“I just do not understand what happened. Did she really only tolerate our presence?”
Posma purses her lips, “It is not like that.”
“Then what is it like? Please enlighten me.” Neteyam exasperates, he is tired of this.
“She is busy with her duties.”
“Do not patronize me. I see her spend time with the hunters, weavers, and carvers.” Neteyam huffs, biting his lip before continuing, “If we, if I, have done something I would like to apologize.”
“It is not my place to share if there is something to apologize for.” Posma crosses her arms, “Whatever answers you're looking for, I do not have.”
Neteyam nods, gnawing at his lip again. Posma moves to leave, assuming the conversation is over, but then he calls out to her again.
“Can you take us to the Hollow of S? Kiri would like to connect with Eywa.”
“You do not know the way?”
Neteyam allows a sheepish smile to grace his face, “We have only been once, and I do not wish to get lost.”
So Posma nods, tells him to meet her at the gates after their duties are done. Neteyam rushes to where Kiri is weaving, pleading with her to keep up his lie.
She had not asked to visit the Hollow. Had not complained and nagged her brother as he had made it seem, but she would not mind going. Naturally though, as a younger sibling, she needed to press.
“Why do you need to go?”
Netryam rolled his eyes, “It does not matter. Just do not expose me, alright?”
“It is for your little crush, isn't it?” Kiri laughs when Neteyam’s eyes widen a fraction, “What? Did you overhear that she would be there?”
“No. No, I did not. I just…” He huffs, unwilling to share something so deep when he is so unsure. But Kiri was not Lo'ak, she would not rat out his secret, “I just want to see if Eywa wills it.”
At that Kiri stills, a grin overtaking her face. It has been a long time coming that her brother admitted his infatuation, so supposed she could keep up the lie for him.
It was clear along the Sullys that Neteyam had been taken with you since they had arrived. They noticed his staring, seeking you out in gatherings or meetings.
Tried to not tease him as he practiced traditional clan necessities of carving and weaving in his spare time.
His father was pleased. Not only was he adapting, but he was truly making it his home. Finding his home, in a place where they were safe.
His mother did not approve at first. It was not against you, it had absolutely nothing to do with you. She had hoped that they would return to her people, the Omatikaya, when the time was right. If Neteyam settled and built a life here, it would mean that she lost her firstborn.
She eventually came to terms with it. Her son would have to find a mate someday, why not be happy that it is someone so skilled? Someone held in high prestige and who reminded her much of herself when Jake had originally come to her people.
Kiri and Tuk were excited. Another sister was someone else to make adorable chest coverings for, someone else to share secrets with, someone else who could braid your hair in intricate patterns with pretty beads. Even if they ended up being able to go back to the Omatikaya, it only meant they had a secondary home here, with new friends, mounts and lifestyles.
Lo'ak liked you. Despite your temperament towards him and his family, you had been kind. You had stuck up for him when one of the warriors a little older than him called him a ‘half-breed’. A firm slap of your palm against the boys cheek paired with a hiss to ‘not disrespect your Olo'eyktan or Toruk Makto again’.
From then on everyone knew it wasn't to be mentioned that they were related to even the idea of the sky people. It meant a lot to Lo'ak; his five fingers being something that even some Omatikaya people judged him for.
He didn't mind that Neteyam had a thing for you. Hell, if anything he was shocked his brother liked someone so cold and cut off. But he slowly came to realize that his brother saw himself in you. That he found someone he could relate to, someone he could speak to of his pressures and they would know exactly how he felt.
One night after a particularly rough lesson, one that Lo'ak did not do well on, their dad asks you how they are progressing. You tell him that maybe Lo'ak could use a little bit more practice at the skill, maybe put some more focus into it, but other than that everyone did well.
That night Jake had called a family meeting. He laid into Lo'ak, as he frequently does, telling him he needed to do better. To focus more, and to wise up, before he ruined the uturu they had sought.
Lo'ak had stormed off, chest aching at his father's disappointment. But then the feeling turned angry, angry that his father never understood the stress he was under. Angry that no one stood up for him.
Eventually it snowballs into anger at you. If you had never said anything, then this whole night would have never happened. So when Neteyam comes to comfort him Lo'ak asks him to warm you up a bit.
To get you to understand their struggle, specifically his, a bit more. Neteyam says no, that you do understand the struggles, and that it was just a stressful day for everyone.
So Lo'ak pushes a bit more. States that Neteyam is a ‘chicken’ as his dad would say, a coward for Na'vi. That he's refusing to warm you up because he's afraid you won't accept his advances.
Lo'ak doesn't think anything bad could come if it. Neteyam would get what he wanted, the rest of the family would be content with his choice.
Another advantage would be that hopefully some of Neteyam’s worrying would pass onto you, and allow him to get into some actual trouble with this new clan. To allow him to deepen the friendships he's made.
He pushes his older brother's buttons to the point of aggravation. Telling him it's okay big bro, we both know you couldn't get her anyway. And Neteyam's need to prove himself surfaces. He had already been trying to attract your view, what was the harm in helping out his baby bro?
And it had gone well for a while. He was slowly inching his way closer to you; aiding you in your duties after his lessons, sitting with you at the cookfires, helping you haul the kills in, sometimes even just bringing you a steaming beverage as you went over your Tsahik training.
He truly believed that he was carving his way into your heart. Then right before his final rite, you dumped him and his siblings as if they were hot coals. Refusing to look at them, to speak to them, Eywa you barely acknowledged that they existed.
So when Neteyam finally approaches the Hollow of Spirits he makes quickly towards the glowing ice stalactites. They’re cold, slippery to the touch, but from the moment Neteyam puts his fingers on one he can feel Eywa pulsing through them.
His opposite hand flies back, reaching for his kuru. He expects a jolt when he connects, for the iciness to freeze over his blood, but instead all he feels is warmth.
The Great Mother knows what he is here for and she confirms his beliefs. That you are the one for him. That you would come to your mantles well when the time came.
A grin forces its way onto his face, an insurmountable amount of joy overcoming him. It was settled. He would craft the courting gift he had been thinking of for weeks now.
It is one infused with both of your peoples. And when you see it, you will agree to courting him. Eywa has willed it after all.
A few more days pass – Neteyam wanted the gift to be perfect. He briefly worries that him not approaching you may make you drift towards another. But his remembrance of Eywa's plans calms him.
It is a beautiful necklace.
When you wear it, it will sit right between your collarbones. He has used Omatikayan weaving patterns, but weaved Herwìslär beads on both sides. In the center rests a bead that he once wore in his hair, one that he searched hours for, wanting something the same shade as the outer edges of a tsawksyul. Finally, resting just below the bead he has weaved in a carving of bone, one shaped to be a tsawksyul; his favorite flower in the entire forest, one he hoped to show you one day.
He tracks you down, pleased to see you’re sitting with Posma fiddling with your bowstring. He knows that Posma saw something in his demeanor change at the Hollow of Spirits, that she may even aid him in getting you to not be stubborn and to listen to him.
“We must speak.”
You glance up at him, before sliding your eyes to your friend. He must be speaking to her as he hasn’t had the chance to talk to you in weeks. When you stay silent he calls out your name, followed by a soft please.
“Will it be brief? I have much to do.”
Neteyam’s lips purse in a tight smile, “I hope it does not.”
“Then speak, so it may move quickly.”
“I have thought of you for many moons – well, to be honest, since my family has arrived for uturu.” Eywa, Neteyam hopes you look at him at least once while he spills his guts, “You are like no one I have ever met. So similar to myself that I did not know how to handle it at first. I see you.”
You raise your head glancing at him with scrutiny swimming in your eyes. He does not mind the way you look at him, simply joyed at being able to look into your eyes finally, to restudy your features. So he continues, more sure now, “I’ve been taken by you; every thought is consumed by you. Every moment I have spent away from you was spent searching for you.”
Neteyam ruffles through the satchel that rests under his furs, producing an intricately woven necklace, “I wish to court you. To eventually make you ma muntxate.” He presents the gift to you. His hands tremble a bit as he awaits your answer, even if Eywa has willed it he still has nerves.
You huff, turning your face away, leaning back into the bowstring you were previously toying with. “No.”
Neteyam is shocked. He had known you were not on the best of terms, even if he did not know why. But he was sure that the previous moments would be enough for you to at least be willing to try with him.
He can see Posma is shocked too. Though he is not sure if it is from his admission, or yours.
“No?”
“I do not want it. If you wish to find a muntxate, I am sure that Selra is interested.”
“Selra? The singer?”
“Yes.” You nod along, “She tries to be discreet, but anyone can spot the way she looks at you over the cookfire.”
“I do not want Selra. We have not even had a conversation.” Neteyam refuses to bring his hands back, to allow your rejection of his courting, “I only desire you.”
“Ei’wen is also a good choice.”
“I do not want–”
“She is a hunter. Assuming that is one of the similarities you see between yourself and I.”
Posma's eyes have not stopped darting between the two of you. She obviously should not be here for this conversation, all it does is make her curious over what she has missed, at what lead to this point in your relationship.
“I do not want them. I want you.” He once again jostles the jewelry in his palm, “I have come here to ask you, only after consulting with Eywa. The Great Mother has told me we are destined, you must believe me.”
You scoff, “I do not have to believe any words that spill from your tongue. You have spoken lies before to achieve what you want, there is nothing stopping you from doing so again.”
Neteyam has no idea what you are talking about. He has never lied to you before, never done anything deceitful to you. But before he can confess this you are up, snatching your bow from where you had rested it, and beginning to storm away from him.
When he moves to follow, to chase you down and prove his point, Posma presses a hand into his chest, halting his movement. He does not allow this to deter him, instead shouting after you, “Ask Eywa yourself! At the Hollow of Spirits, as I had! She will tell you the same thing she has told me!”
Your pace quickened after the words spilled past his lips. He never gets a response but he knows you heard him. Knows that it will fester and nag at your brain until you go to check yourself, so he turns to Posma.
“May I ask a favor?”
The hand on his chest retracts until just a single finger rests above his heart, “You are on thin ice. You do not get to ask for a favor.”
“I just wish to know if she listens. If she travels to the Hollow.”
Posma does not grant him an answer. She simply pushes into his chest with her finger and heads in the direction you went. Neteyam is uncertain that she will tell him, uncertain that you would even head remotely in the direction of the Hollows anytime soon. But he still had faith that Eywa was correct, that she had not led him astray.
Another week passes languidly. He goes through the motions; hunting, foraging, spending time with his siblings and newfound friends. The only change from the past two months is that you now let your eyes linger on him.
It is not fond, an intense glare that almost leaves him shrinking in on himself. He is not afraid of you; has never been and will never be. So he takes it in stride, smiling when he meets your gaze, allowing his tail to swish a little with curiosity.
He hopes one of these days that instead of staring, you would approach. Even if you do not, he will take any improvement in your acknowledgement of him. Would be pleased if you were to lash out at him, if it meant he got to hear your voice.
A sort of limbo passes over him. He hopes you would not reject him. That you would accept his advances. If you did not it would be okay, he is unsure of how long it would take him to recover from such a loss, but he would figure it out. He just hopes that you drag out the time before telling him, that you allow him to live in the fantasy where you accept for a little while longer.
Neteyam is on his way to take Tuk for a ride on his herwanpalu when Posma stops him. “I did not tell you anything, do you understand?”
Oh.
He nods, yes he understands. He’s been waiting for this moment. Tuk is ordered to find something else to do, to go find her friends or her other older siblings. After she is moving with purpose back towards the village he runs to call his herwanpalu.
He mimics the grunts and calls you taught him. It would be smart to adorn her in a saddle, to have some supplies if something went wrong, but Neteyam is moving to make it as quickly as possible. His fingers grip tight onto the fur in front of him, before commanding his mount to speed in your direction. He did not need to see the realization on your face. Did not need to be there as you disconnected your kuru from the stalactite. He simply needed to arrive before you left.
He walks into the Hollow, breathless as if he had personally ran the entire way here. From the silence he half expects you to be gone. The hopeful half of him assumes that you are still connected, still speaking to Eywa and searching out answers.
So he crawls softly and thoughtfully through the cave, he doesn’t want to startle you out of your conversation if you are not yet done. He does not spot you and his face falls, assuming you left.
He moves to the mouth of the cave, disappointed that he missed what he considered to be the best opportunity to change your mind. Before he can step towards the more surface levels of the hollow a voice calls after him.
“Why did you lie?”
Ah. So you were here.
He whips around, amber eyes scanning his surroundings. They hone in on your figure, lower legs dipping into the freezing water that some stalactites rest above.
“I would never lie to you. Can you be more specific?”
Neteyam is moving closer now, unintentionally blocking you in. You see it as intentional, that he wants to force a conversation that does not need to be had. He sees it as his body refusing to be away from you anymore, especially in such a sacred place.
“I overheard you before your final rite. Lo’ak said that you had been ‘working’ me so that I would take it easier on you and your siblings during your lessons.”
He laughs a breath through his nose, “It was not like that.”
You hiss in return. If he thinks you to be stupid, then you would leave. Before you can stand Neteyam grabs your hand, planting it underneath his against the floor.
“Lo’ak is a skxawng, but he does know how to get under my skin.” His free hand lifts to direct your face towards his, “He said that I could not get you to become infatuated with me as I had with you, said that I was a fnawe’tu.”
Your eyes trace his furs, recognizing it as the same ones you crafted specially for him, “You are not a fnawe’tu.”
“I am not. And Lo’ak knew I would be eager to prove him wrong, he simply wanted to get under my skin one last time before I came into my own in this clan.”
You begin to think it over. Lo’ak had always been teasing, always the one to try and use comedy even in situations they did not belong in. He was not cruel, simply wanting to find his place.
“What were you doing outside our kelku?”
“I came to deliver the furs from your first solo kill, as a final good luck.”
He smiles widely at you, “These are from you?”
You nod in agreement, not able to trust your voice.
The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes after that. Neteyam does not want to overwhelm you, and you have too much going on in your head to formulate a proper thought.
At some point you speak again, softly as to not disturb the peace the two of you have entered. “Do you still have the necklace?”
“Of course.” Neteyam begins digging into his furs, when he procures the necklace you stare at it longingly.
“I lied.” When his brow furrows in confusion you continue. “When I said I did not want it? I had lied, it is one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen a Na’vi create.”
“Then may I put it on the most beautiful Na’vi I have ever seen?”
Neteyam moves quickly when you agree. His fingers move deftly as he ties the necklace into place. Then he allows them to ghost down the weave, tracing over the beads before stopping to rest upon the centerpiece.
He nods in approval, eyes meeting yours when he glances up. A new emotion swims in them, one of hunger, of desire; something he has not seen you allow yourself to indulge in before.
Oh Eywa, he had been waiting for this. If you wanted him, he would allow you to devour him whole. Send his spirit back to the ancestors and he would thank you.
Instead he forces himself to hold his composure, allows his fingers to ghost back up your neck. Curves his palm so it rests on the back of your neck, thumb lightly caressing your jaw. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, subconsciously pursing them as you stare at his.
So he takes the lead, lightly pressing his lips to yours. Neteyam soon finds that this is not enough, that after so many months of not being able to have you that it would take him forever to satiate the heat that began to pool in his stomach.
You lick into his mouth and he realizes you must be just as hungry as he is. He does not fight you, allows you to have dominance, to take what you want with no resistance. It’s only when you pull back for breath that he revolts, hands moving to lift you to rest in his lap.
It gives him more places to put his hands, and makes it easier for you to take whatever you want. When you pull away again Neteyam chases, he knows that you’re not pulling away for air and he does not wish to halt.
“This is…” You’re huffing, needing to catch all the breaths that Neteyam stole from you, “We are moving fast.”
“We moved slow for many months.” When your brow creases in protest, he allows his thumbs to rub soothing circles into your waist where they’ve snuck under your fur, “But if you wish, we can continue to take it slow.”
You do not wish to take it slow. But you are still apprehensive with what he said about Lo’ak. If he was lying to you, and he really was playing you in the beginning you aren’t sure if you would be able to recover emotionally.
Sensing your turmoil, Neteyam nuzzles his nose against yours, “What is it yawne?”
“I just worry that you are still playing me. That I am embarrassing myself with my actions.”
He smiles at you lovingly, “I am not. I have never been. But we can go ask Lo’ak if you would like to quell your worries.”
You do not respond, weighing your options. You could ask Lo’ak, could confront him and ask why he did not just speak to you directly. But if it was truly as Neteyam said it would only embarrass you. You’re shocked out of your stupor when pink, glowing tendrils emerge in front of your eyes.
“Or, because we both know you would not trust his words on a situation as serious as this anyway, I can prove it to you now.”
“We cannot take back tsaheylu, Neteyam. Be serious.”
He does not lower his kuru at your words, “I am being serious. What did Eywa show you?”
“That she has willed us to be together. It has been fated since we were children.”
He smiles, Eywa had shown him similar visions. “So why delay if it will happen eventually?”
Neteyam had a point. Your father may skin you, your mother would be disappointed that there were no pre-mating ceremonies completed. But if Eywa willed it to happen, and the two of you were ready, would it really be harmful?
Your hand reaches behind you to grasp your kuru, “You are sure?”
“I have never been more sure.”
So you press your kuru forward, allowing the tendrils to entangle themselves with his.
Your pupils blow wide. The emotions bombard you like something you’ve never felt before, the feeling overwhelming all of your senses.
The love, the nervousness, the way he pined for you for months. The way he admires his parents, and adores his siblings. How he misses the Omatikaya forest, but has made your forest one of his own too.
Feel his desire to take you flying on his ikran, for you to claim your own ikran. To show you his forest, share all his knowledge of it with you. How he wants to feed you the delicacies of his people, to watch you in just simple loincloths instead of heavy furs.
Then the memories flow through you, ones that are not your own. A bright lush forest, roaring rivers, snowless floating mountains. Little hands holding a newborn baby. Hands being directed to aim properly at a fish.
When you finally come back to your senses you’re huffing a bit, body working to compensate for the immense things your brain is being flooded with. When you realize Neteyam has come to himself too, you lurch forward.
It’s messy at first, your teeth clashing with his, fangs accidentally catching his lips. But then you can feel everything from his perspective. The tug of the fang, the way he briefly thinks about how he would not mind you sinking them into him on purpose.
Suddenly you’re overwhelmed all over again. You allow Neteyam to roll you onto your back, allow him to take control. He licks into your mouth again, eager to experience this while connected to you.
You know there will be repercussions when the two of you arrive home. That there will be questions. Important talks between your parents and yourselves. But as Neteyam begins to kiss down the side of your face, to your jaw, and eventually your jugular you cannot find any will to care about the repercussions.
When he lifts the carved bone from where it rests just beneath your collarbones, and presses a kiss to the spot, you believe you could face public humiliation for this and not be upset. It must pass through the bond, as shortly after Neteyam laughs against your ribs.
Whatever conspires from there is just for the two of you to know and everyone else to question.
At least it was.
Almost exactly twelve months after your night in the Hollow you welcome your first child, and everyone is more than aware of what you got up to.
Translations (had to make some of these up by mashing words together from the na’vi dictionary, so not everything is 100% correct): Her’ang - Snow beast Herwanpalu - Snow feline Herwìslär clan - Snow cave clan Uturu - refugee/sanctuary Nume nìwin - Learn quickly Kelku - home Tewng - Loincloth Zusawkrr olo’eykte - Future clan leader Txawuk - Giant flying mount Tsmuke - Sister Kayru - Teacher Ma muntxate - My mate Tsawksyul - Sun lily Skxawng - Moron/Idiot Fnawe’tu - Coward Yawne - Beloved
a/n: i adore this fic so please be nice to it.. i loosely wanted to mirror inuit culuture, so a bunch of inspiration for the way that the na'vi of the clan acted or things that they wore were based off of that. i also adore the snow, and the cold, and everything to do with winter so i naturally had to put two obsessions together. i put pictures that i based the creatures on below.
fun fact: i wrote about 3-4k of the words for this while actively shoveling snow for about 8 hours :p
༉ summary. neteyam and you are in the courting stage of your relationship. each time you both show how much you really mean to one another, you both can’t help but fall deeper in love.
༉ authors note. this is my first fic ever so bear with me. but sweet nothing is a love song to me and no one can change my mind about that. this is not proofread and i fear it’s 80% word vomit and i don’t even know if it’s coherent, but i fear the only way to get better is to just write so that’s what i’m doing.
. . ⋆ ˖᯽ ݁
“Neteyam!”
Neteyam’s ears move forward at the call, recognizing the voice immediately. Had it been almost two months ago Neteyam’s demeanor would be completely different. Now, however after countless days and nights spent together, the sight of you brought a smile to his face.
Neteyam remembers the moment he officially asked to court you as if it were yesterday. It started with his parents. Being the future Olo’eyktan wasn’t easy. Neteyam constantly put himself last, trying to prove to his father that he could be the perfect son. Following Lo’ak into every dangerous situation he put himself in, then reluctantly taking the blame for it. Helping Kiri with every single request she had. And Tuk, sweet little Tuk who only wanted to play with him, not quite yet understanding the pressure Neteyam was put under. Neteyam gave all he had to prove himself to his parents. But this was different, this was you. You who had made his heart beat 100 miles an hour. You, who made him forget all about his duties and to breathe. Neteyam knew he was going to end up with you, Eywa’s will or not.
Your parents were different. Neteyam lived up to customs, but he’d rather fight the RDA than needing to ask their permission to court you. His dread however didn’t wear off until he spoke to you. Neteyam couldn’t understand the shock on your face when he asked. Sure he was shy and most of his actions needed to be read in-between the lines, but you were all he thought about day and night. Yet all the stress and what-ifs he put himself through were worth it seeing the smile you bore upon him now.
“Yawntu,” That had brought a matching smile to your face. Neteyam knew until you were mated, his displays of actions needed to be big yet small. His small ways of doing so were calling you every pet name in the book, tiyawn, yawntu, sevin, and muntxatu. His affection in that way would always make you shy. “What are you doing here?”
“Kämì took the Tireyr out flying on her ikran. So, do you want to go out foraging for a bit? Find some fruits?”
Neteyam’s ears perked up at that, tail swinging back and forth, eyes dilated. A perfect opportunity for him to show you he could provide for you. Expressing his ability to give you anything you needed or wanted to prove he can be the best mate for you was a part of courting. His heart jumped at the thought and without missing a beat Neteyam vanishes underneath the flap of his tent and returns with a bow over his neck, arrows on his back, and an empty basket on his hip.
“Let us go then.” He says with the biggest smile on his face.
A quiet laugh escapes your lips from Neteyam’s obvious eagerness spilling out of him. Neteyam noticed the sweet twinkle in your eyes leave as you look at the weapons peaking from his back. “There’s no need for that, you know.” You say eyes staring right back at him. Neteyam knows you frequently walked the forest with no weapon (an idea he hated so much that he crafted you a little dagger that you carried to keep his heart at ease) yet somehow, thankfully, Eywa was always on your side and you always came back unscathed. But you carried the belief that bringing weapons was just asking for trouble.
“You must always be prepared.” He replies. “It’s what my father says.”
“Fine,” you huff, “at least let me take the basket.”
“No, I’ve got it.”
Neteyam knows the need to protect and provide flows both ways. So when he sees the look on your face trying to come up with a reason as to why you should hold the basket, he walks ahead of you not willing to hear your argument.
When Neteyam walked through high camp he always got a few stares. For many reasons but the obvious being his father was the Olo’eyktan and Neteyam was to be the next, follow in his footsteps. Now, however, when Neteyam was with you, stares had doubled. It makes sense, with you two being the next clan leaders and who the people will rely on in the future. Before Neteyam had gotten used to it, but there had been a lot more people looking so even he got a bit closed-off. But you, who is still getting used to all the new duties being mated with Neteyam, come with. You’re still not fully used to the idea. Neteyam had talked to you about it. He grew up with these responsibilities placed on him, he had accepted and gotten used to everything a long time ago. You had called it the outside noise. Preferring the silent, deeper moment between the two of you.
Slowly but surely you were adapting to the new role because Neteyam turns to you and sees that you’re staring at the ground like it’s got an important message to tell you. It’s a hard switch from your life before and Neteyam knows it will take time so he lets you speak first.
“They’re staring.” You whisper.
“They’re staring at you sevin,” He whispers back in your ear. “because of how beautiful you are.” Neteyam is sure of your beauty and can knock him out cold. He couldn’t describe it if he could, it’s outwardly, something that no one could touch, and if he died looking at you, he’d go out a happy man. So, he doesn’t doubt in saying everyone is looking at your beauty. Yes, Neteyam is yours and you are his but showing you off and letting the clan know he swooped the prettiest na’vi girl off her feet couldn’t hurt.
You however, can’t help but laugh at him For whatever reason he doesn’t know because he truly believes there is no one, nothing that could come close to you.
“Yeah right.” You laugh.
“I speak the truth,” he says “seriously.”
You laugh and give him a pointed stare meaning you don’t believe him and his obvious bias.
“You think I would choose a muntxatu not as beautiful as myself?” He jokes.
That sends you over the edge. Truly not believing his ridiculousness. “Oh Eywa!”
“You spend too much time with Lo’ak.” You mumble still laughing. “His ego is rubbing off onto you.” Neteyam laughs at your response.
“Maybe,” he says sliding his free hand over your shoulder, “but you still like me.”
He gets no response but the smile on your face and look in your eyes tells him everything he needs to know.
The walk towards the forest was quiet. The only sound made was the small thumping of his and your feet when you walked. And the occasional “careful” Neteyam slipped out while holding your torso when he thought you might lose your balance. Yes, quiet but not awkward. Neteyam could tell from the humming coming out of your mouth. It followed the same tune from your younger brother’s song cord.
Neteyam’s favorite moments spent with you were the ones where almost nothing was happening. Yet, the sweet small presence of you automatically made it a moment he could bask in and never forget.
“Ok hero,” you say, turning to him, “hand me the basket.”
Neteyam turns himself around perplexed at your idea. “Tìyawn I thought I had won that fight.”
“Yes but I thought you were a mighty warrior who needed to be on the lookout. Mighty warriors do not carry fruit baskets around.”
“Well this mighty warrior does.” Neteyam replies going along with your jokes.
“This mighty warrior does anything for their muntxate.” Neteyam flatly replies. He sees you still for a moment out of the corner of his eye. Your blue frame no longer moving freely now stiff and high as if alert. He means what he says. About you being his future wife and doing everything and anything you need from him. And he knows you know he means it, which is why it means so much, because of the anticipation of it finally being true.
Which is why he’s not surprised when you say, very quietly. “Not yet.” Because he too, can’t deny that the feeling of it being so close in reach yet so far, is aching. So he moves up to, trying to level and show you both feel the same.
“No… no, not quite yet tìyawn.” He places the basket on my ground to be able to place his arms around you. To further show you don’t need to be shy with your feelings. Especially when it’s about the disappointment you feel about not yet being mated. It’s a compliment to him.
“But soon,” he says, kissing your shoulder, “very soon.”
Neteyam felt your cold hands press against his head moving it upwards to get him face to face with you. Locking eyes so you know he’s paying attention. Which he always is when it comes to you, but he does it away knowing it comforts you, the extra attention and sign it gives.
You looked at him intensely, hands and eyes now moving down his neck and resting on his chest.
“Yes, I know.” You had stopped to think carefully at your next words. Neteyam had stopped too to let you think. Partially because he would do anything for you, like moving at whatever pace you needed in the moment. But also because the sight of your face when it was deep in thought was one that he wanted to look at forever.
Yet, the adorable face you were making seemed to do nothing because your thoughts were still not coming out the way you needed them to.
Your eyes locked with him again. “I just mean… I… I like… I like where we are, I don’t want… change.”
Neteyam, however, understood perfectly what you were trying to say. “I understand.” He says sincerely. When you two are officially mated before Eywa, everything that you two are, what you do, how you act, speak, will be watched and come with immense amounts of pressure.
He continues, “But it’s just me and you. We will be the same as we are now.”
“I suppose.” You say, still weary.
“I understand yawntu, I do. But we will have each other.”
“Yea.” You say with more feeling this time.
This time, Neteyam takes his warm hands to your face. A funny comparison you had made pointing out how opposites attract. He moved your face to look eye to eye, using the same technique that made you trust and believe more. To see if you really do understand. He places a kiss on your nose indicating he does.
“Let us go, before it gets too dark.” He says while reaching down for the fruit basket he set earlier only to find nothing.
Neteyam looks up at the sound of your feet hitting the grass and sees you already ahead of him with the fruit basket placed on your hip. He laughs at your stubbornness and the reality that this is what he has for the rest of his life. He runs towards you, fast, at the thought.
. . ⋆ ˖᯽ ݁
Today started off normally for you. Your parents leaving with the war party to go take down another demon ship. Kämì has taken Tireyr out to gather some beads for his hair. That left you alone, practicing making herbs and ointments that Mo'at had taught you. You knew being the future Tsahìk was the highest honor one could get. What you didn’t think was it also becoming the biggest stress induced as well. So, you picked up the habit of further practicing on your own. Quite liking the calmness and stability it created. What you didn't expect was to hear a voice call your name outside your tent. An oddly familiar voice at that.
“Neteyam?” You ask before lifting the flap of your tent.
“Hi.” He breathes out.
The smile on his face was so bright you almost didn't notice the yerik on top of his shoulders. Almost.
"What are you doing here?"
“My father said it would be best if I stayed behind and taught the younger children, since I am to lead them.” He walks inside as if this is routine for him. He grunts as he sets the yerik down. “So, I taught them hunting skills.” He says looking straight at the animal nodding, proud of himself.
You sigh “Neteyam, I don’t think that’s what your father meant by saying teach them.”
Neteyam always listens to his father. Mainly for wanting to live up to him but also to prove he is ready for his future position as Olo’eyktan. So you know to tread carefully on this subject. Especially because he was disobeying his father for you.
You were right in your suspicions because he responds with, “Let us not worry about that ma’yawne.”
Neteyam wraps his arms around like he always does, and you suddenly forget the problem like you always do. That was the beauty between the two of you, when together the only thing they seemed important to focus on, was the other.
“I taught them valuable lessons.” He says into your ear.
You tilt your head. “Lessons?”
“Yes.” Hey says, his face now between your shoulder and neck.
“How to stalk and hunt animals.” He says while kissing your collarbone.
“How to kill an animal.” He moves, kissing the base of your throat.
“How to pray to Eywa for the animal’s spirit.” He kisses your jawline now.
“How to prepare the animal,” he’s right at your lips, “skin it properly.” He teases and kisses just beside them.
He pulls back, his face now inches away from yours.
“And?” You say, not being able to deal with his teasing anymore.
He stills for a moment. “And… how to win over their future muntxa.”
Now you still. Not understanding what he means by that. But, before you can question him, he finally kisses you. He kisses you like that is all he’s meant to do in the world. And you kiss him back like it’s the only thing you’ve been made for. You’re so wrapped up in the moment you almost don’t hear the tiny giggles coming from outside the tent. Almost.
It’s your turn to pull back. “Neteyam…” You question.
That’s when the giggles become louder, and you realize what’s going on. He had brought the kids to you. Not fully ready to disobey his father’s orders.
The giggles are now coming from inside the tent aswell. You turn and see Neteyam, finding full humor in your embarrassment.
“Neteyam!” You say in disbelief that he would do something so bold.
“They’re kids yawntu they would not believe it if they did not see it.” He laughs.
And before you can yell at him, like the wise man he is, Neteyam kisses you one final time and leaves the tent as if he were never there. The only evidence left behind is the purple hue on your cheeks and the perfectly skinned yerik lying down in the middle of your tent.
. . ⋆ ˖᯽ ݁
Tuk was your favorite of Neteyam’s siblings. She viewed this world from a different lens. A child’s lens. Her curiosity and eagerness was something that reminded you of your siblings. So naturally, whenever Tuk asks something of you, your answer is always yes. Today it was to gather beads for her hair and necklaces she wanted to make. And Tuk was so full of life you just wouldn't say no to her.
"Tuk we must leave now before it becomes too late." You had gone through this battle before. Because she was so enthusiastic and playful walking outside of base and into the forest was a hassle, she seemingly made friends with anyone and everyone and just needed to talk to them. The last time this happened she had talked way past the eclipse and still wanted to go. You however, knew better because the Sully family were close. They stuck together. And bringing their youngest out at night knowing you weren't the best warrior was not something you wanted to do. The fact that they even trusted you alone with her was a compliment you didn't take lightly. So the day had ended in tears with Tuk going on about how you don't keep promises and a very early morning for you trying to make it up to the little girl.
Tuk seemed to forget about this when she didn't even look your way to say "Hold on Eyan is showing me his new bow."
"Tuktirey." She had gotten up at that. Not used to anyone saying her full name like that.
The walk there was quiet now. The only sound being made was your two's footprints and to Tuk's small giggles finding something incredibly funny. You had let her be in her own little mind the quieter she was the safer you two were. But eventually curiosity got the best of you.
"What are you laughing at little one?"
That seemed to make her giggle even more. "You."
You paused at that, but this was Tuk and you could be a little silly with her and still have meaningful conversations. "Me!"
It seemed Tuk was easy to please because your response made her laugh even more.
"Yes you!" For the first time she lets go of your hand since the two of you stepped in the forest.
"Neteyam talks about you a lot."
"Me?" You knew Neteyam was very proud of having someone like you with them. Though you often thought this proof of affection lies in actions rather than words.
"He says to be easy on you, when we go out." Tuk says and she moves to grab little rocks from the ground into your satchel around your waist. "That you stress easily."
She sighs before going on "How your ears pin back, you bite your lips sometimes too, that makes your canines stick out."
"He said your skin was soft and Loak threw something at him for it. But he said it was from teaching you to use the bow and arrow." Suddenly the bow on your neck and arrows on your back felt ten times heavier. Neteyam has been teaching you how to use it. It has been one of your favorite activities together.
Tuk pulls you out of your thoughts by standing right in front of you.
"I know a lot about you, you know?" You highly doubt Neteyam talked about you that much.
"Like what little one?"
She opens her palm full of different sized rock's. "They're your favorite color."
She was right. Looking at them closer you see they all have a blue hue to them. All different shades, but all blue, a passing comment you had made to Neteyam since before he officially asked you to be his mate.
She points to a spartan fruit hanging off a tree nearby "Those are your favorite." She moves away from you now, presumably to gather more beads and rocks. Then as she's knee deep in the ground reaching for the beads she starts laughing again. "When Neteyam got some for you, he got way too many for one person. So we all had to eat the rest for four days. Loak was so mad!" She says now laughing even harder at the memory. "He said not to say anything about it though, because you would feel bad." She then lays her final picks of beads into your satchel before grabbing your hand and declaring she was done and wanted to go back.
You, however were still thinking about the information Tuk had just told you. Sure it was tiny almost unimportant facts Neteyam had told his family about you. You knew Neteyam's family knew about you, you would consider his siblings friends. His father was the one who made the comment about how where one of you was the other wasn't far. But this was different, at least in your head it was.
To know this family recognized how important you were to Neteyam enough to remember the small facts he said about you, especially Tuk, who didn't care about much. To know Loak who was the first to complain and break rules kept his mouth shut about in honor of your feelings. It brought a feeling of acceptance from the Sully family.
So caught up in your thoughts you hadn't noticed you and Tuk had entered the camp until you caught a familiar scent.
Neteyam.
You look up and see him running up to you. He immediately embraced you in his arms. He releases and his gaze is on you checking for any markings indicating you got in trouble or hurt. "How was it?"
Tuk immediately perks up. "Amazing!" She hands reach for your satchel to show off your guys findings. "Look!" Her hands full of beads shove themselves into Neteyam's face. "And she's not treating me like I'm five like you and Lo'ak do. I like her a lot." Neteyam laughs immediately, hands ruffing up Tuk's hair.
"Me too Tuk, me too." He says eyes now fully paying attention to you, you feel it so deeply you think you might explode.
Tuk, not understanding the moment, pulls Neteyam's hand towards their family tent. Neteyam laughs and his attention is focused towards her. But you know he's still with you when his tail wraps around you and pulls you right next to him.
His tail around you goes to your brain and turns you into putty. The act was small, yes, but the message was much bigger. That he’s here with you, and that he’s not going anywhere. Especially since you’re walking in high camp with everyone around. Sure they ask for something, minding their own business but it’s that display Neteyam is so proud to show off in front of everyone on how you two are to be mated.
Neteyam had then tapped on your shoulder using one of your favorite nicknames, “Tiyawn. Tuk has something to ask you.”
You faced Neteyam giving him a confused look. Tuk, sweet as can be, was still a Sully filled with just as much mischievousness as the rest of them.
“Yes, little one?” You asked now looking down to Tuk.
“Sleep over with us again tonight. Please! Please! Please! We will have so much fun! We can start making the bracelets and talk all night! Please!”
Staying over at the Sully’s pretty much was the same every time. Jake spent all night giving Neteyam that look, Neytiri smiled to herself over you and Neteyam’s pairing when she thought no one was looking, Kiri stayed in her own thoughts, Tuk fought with Neteyam over who you liked more, Neteyam fought back with her just to see her get all mad, and Lo’ak gets so annoyed the whole night and lets everyone know.
“Are you sure your family can handle me another night Tuk?”
“Yes! Yes please! Neteyam never stops talking about you. Mom likes you, I like you! Please, you have to stay!” Her hands now wrapped around your forearms pushing back and forth emphasizing just how much she wanted you there.
“Tuk-Tuk be gentle.” Neteyam said now remove her hands from your arms.
“Stop it Neteyam! She’s not made of water!” She says, slapping her hands out of his grasp.
“Ok but no fighting Tuk. Got it?” You reasoned with her.
“He’s the one who started it.” She said not even looking at Neteyam as she pulled you into the tent.
Neteyam, being the best brother he is, grabbed Tuk and lifted her up blowing raspberries into her stomach.
“Stop it Neteyam! Stop it!” She yelled arms and legs kicking everywhere. Her eyes were trained right at you and a silent yet loud plea to go help her. The power Tuk had over you was something you couldn’t explain because you had walked over and put ur hands on Neteyam to tell him to stop. Yet before you could speak Neteyam froze from the touch. Tail up and ears back, his head moved towards you looking and smiling forgetting about everything else. Tuk took the opportunity to flee from his grasp and back onto the floor.
Your hands had merely grasped his biceps, yet it was almost electrical the effect it had on him. Tuk noticed too, because she came up to you mocking the same movements pulling you away from him. The sibling rivalry didn’t end there because as she led you further into the tent she turned and said “sap” with her tongue out. Neteyam, always up for a game, followed you two to where you sat, placing himself right behind you, chin on your shoulder happy as ever.
“Neteyam.” She dragged his name out to further show her annoyance. “Leave us alone! We don’t want you here!”
“You don’t want me here sevin?” He said looking at you. His eyes were so close and intense you didn’t hear the small “ew” Tuk gave to the nickname.
“No! She doesn’t!” Tuk answered for you.
“Tuk.” You said
“You don’t.” She dragged out again, now getting annoyed at the fact that you loved Neteyam just as much.
“You see that skxawng, she wants me here.” His tone so full of himself.
“Neteyam.” You repeated not wanting to set off Tuk.
“Why would she want you here? I’m her best friend. She loves me!”
“She doesn’t, I’m her mate.” That statement alone made your face flush.
Tuk, the sweet little girl turned to you as her head tilt, “You said you didn’t have a mate.”
“I don’t.” Because you didn’t, not yet at least.
It was almost as if you were already mated because Neteyam copied exactly what you thought. “Not yet.”
For how small Tuk was, she was oddly smart and could take a hint anytime. “Ew! You can’t mate with him.” You had laughed at her extremities.
“I’m serious! Why him?”
“Because I am a mighty warrior, strong, handsome.” Neteyam answered for you
“No.” Tuk said blankly.
“Stronger than you.” He said.
“For now.” Tuk said arms crossed now getting fed up.
“Yes but by the time your strong—”
“Ok.” You said loudly not wanting this argument to go on any longer. Because it can, and it has. Neteyam was pouting at you now because he loved this game.
“Tuk let’s make our bracelets while Neteyam sits here.” You said, now turning to look at Neteyam you added, “Quietly.”
“Ok…” Tuk said just wanting to be with you.
Neteyam didn’t answer. But the way he moved so you sat in between his legs, backs pressed up against one another with his arms around your stomach, told you he was content with the compromise.
. . ⋆ ˖᯽ ݁
Neteyam adored many things about you. One was your charm, and being friends with what he thinks is everyone in the clan. Neteyam’s pool of friends boiled down to his siblings and Spider, too busy dealing with his duties and helping his father. Now however, you had made it your personal mission to get Neteyam more involved with the clan on a personal level. He remembers you saying something like who’s going to trust a leader they can’t say hi to? Neteyam mulled over the idea. But he also thought, what better way to spend more time with you, and in the name of becoming a better leader.
At first, Neteyam felt so out of place and awkward that he never wanted to do it again. Everyone knew one another and details about each other’s personal lives, Neteyam felt he was too far behind the curve and wouldn’t catch up. He was used to being the best at things, riding, hunting, those things. This however was a new step. You had convinced Neteyam to keep coming, keep talking and soon he would be coming up to them without you there.
Now, sitting down with everyone, Mewia, Nìtul, Ukyo, and Vìtra, Neteyam felt at peace. Of course you were still there sitting right next to him, the idea of him being there without you felt out of place. Especially now more than ever because he didn’t want to be anywhere you weren’t.
Ukyo and Nìtul were a part of the upcoming party that trains with him. The three had come back from hunting on their own and decided to eat this night with the three of you. You had been friends with everyone since childhood but since learning to heal others under Mo’at, you had gotten closer to Mewia and Vìtra. Neteyam liked them, all of them. They had gotten his silent approval when questioning him about his intentions with you. You had nearly died at that, but Neteyam found it heartfelt, knowing your friends only want the best for you.
Now, sitting here around the fireplace, cooking a fairly large yerik of laughing at everyone’s stories for the day, Neteyam couldn’t be happier without you. Understanding him in a way where you know his duties are important, but his duties don’t subside his needs. You care for him to have a somewhat normal life.
Neteyam had leaned forward, starting to cut parts of the yerik to eat. Like second nature he handed it straight to you first, and fed it right to you. Almost like he had done this a million times over, because he had. Neteyam wanted to do anything for you that would make your life easier. He was so focused on what he was doing he didn’t notice the laughs everyone had made around him. He did notice however, you pull back and utter a small “Stop.”
Confused, he did nothing, pulled back an uttered an even smaller “What sevin?”
This time, more in tune with what’s going on around him, he heard the laughs his friends were making.
“What?” He said a little louder now staring at everyone’s amused faces.
“You are so whipped bro.” Ukyo said, trying, and failing, to hold in his laugh.
Bro. Something he had taught both Ukyo and Nìtul thanks to Lo’ak and Spider who seemed incapable of using any other word than that.
Neteyam however found no shame in people seeing his affections towards you. He thought, what is the whole point of courting you if not to show how great of a mate he would be? And what good mate would he be if he hid his affections.
“Leave him alone Ukyo.” You had said now turning to look at Neteyam. “He is doing nothing wrong.”
Hearing your confirmation that you liked Neteyam’s attention and affection, his ears perked up and tail started moving a little faster. He seemed to forget the teasing his friends were making as his full attention was on you and your eyes. Needed to see the conformation and comfort seep out of them.
That however, was ruined when Ukyo burst out another “bro” at the way Neteyam completely melted to your voice.
Neteyam knew this is what friends do, tease one another, make fun, but it’s all fun and games. And he was no stranger to teasing and jokes. Lo’ak was crowned the family’s “jester” by his father. And since courting you, Lo’ak couldn’t get enough of teasing his brother. Even Spider teased him. He had heard it all, whipped, simp, head over heels, down bad, and in love. The last was his favorite, because he was in love with you. He didn’t mind the teasing because your smile when he did tasks for you or whispered in your ear made up for it. But, since being used to it, Neteyam wasn’t not going to say something back.
“Someone’s just not over the fact Kämì rejected his offerings.”
Kämì was your older sister, and when getting to know your family Neteyam learned Kämì had rejected his dear friend Ukyo. He knew she felt terrible about it, because she hadn’t stopped asking you and him how he was afterwards. But he also knew Ukyo was over it by now. So it was more now just a kick to the ego and a joke a friend would never let go of.
“Bro.” Ukyo had said for the third time, shoulders now down, head back, and eyes shut with his hands over his face remembering the now, embarrassing moment.
Compared to the laughs everyone was making before, was nothing to the sound of them now. Neteyam’s boldness and playfulness was rarely, if ever shown but when it was, people couldn’t get enough. Especially you, even if you saw that side of him way more than anyone else. He only needed to make you laugh in order to know he succeeded. But to be here, with all these friends, thanks to you, he knew he was never going to let you go.
. . ⋆ ˖᯽ ݁
Netyeam’s life was very out of the ordinary; it was almost comical. First, he was the Olo’eyktan’s son and next in line. Second, his father used to be full demon then turned na’vi, making Neteyam half human. Third, he had a full human sibling, Spider. You didn’t actually view Spider as Neteyam’s sibling. But you had wanted to get to know Neteyam’s family more, and that meant getting to know Spider. He was an interesting thing you decided. Smaller than Kiri and Lo’ak but taller than Tuk, for not much longer. You noticed Neytiri’s dislike towards him, Kiri’s odd affection, and Jake’s, well you couldn’t quite read Jake just yet.
Despite all that and the obvious discomfort you felt around him at first from what your parents tell you about the sky people from fighting them day in and day out, you gave him a chance. That seemed good in theory but as you’ve learned he’s just as bad as Lo’ak. Teasing and calling you out for your affection towards Neteyam, and constantly feeding off each other and getting into more trouble, and always pushing your buttons.
Right now Spider is just about as useful as Tuk when it comes to protecting the clan. Humans can’t compete against your people, you’re more powerful in agility and strength, which is why they found a way to make bodies and transform into them. Spider, who’s still a boy, can’t even defeat a full age human on his own, so he stays with Kiri when Neteyam and Lo’ak leave with the war party on RDA raids. So as you, Kiri, and Spider sit and wait you realize why the Sully’s and Spider gravitated towards one another.
It was a deep understanding that you wouldn’t understand. Getting to know Neteyam on a deeper level you don’t think he quite understands it either. You and it seems like everyone else forgets, or at least doesn’t bring up Jake’s first life. Neteyam being a carbon copy of his mother also doesn’t get bright up much. But Lo’ak and Kiri, both having four fingers, and what they call eyebrows, connected with Spider. It was a bond you quite adored. Helping you see the nuance of the sky people and not lumping them all together as evil.
Spider and Kiri were both in their own little world talking about Eywa knows what. You say back lying then both enjoy one’s company. As you did you heard the faint yelling of the youngest Sully. As you turn you see her, faintly coming towards you three, presumably running by how fast she was getting into view.
A few seconds later Tuk had finally reached the tent and yelled out of breath, “Kiri, Spider, the war party’s coming back! Come on, come on.”
Tuk was now pulling on your arm relentlessly for you to get up. Eager to go and greet the party. “Come on, let’s go! Neteyam’s back.”
That had got your hear racing and feet moving. Both abnormally fast. Almost everyone you cared about was there. Your mother, father, older sister Kämì, and Neteyam. Your Neteyam. You almost preferred them to stay there, because if they came back hurt you’re not sure what you’d do.
Running with Tuk as her hands were still on your arms pulling, you spotted your mothers almost fully green ikran landing. She almost always leads the party while Jake stays back. He trusted your parents deeply, respecting them as warriors and now as parents as you and Neteyam court one another.
“Sa’nok!” You yelled. You had run towards her inadvertently pulling Tuk along since she was groping onto you and you were much stronger than she was.
“Oh thank you, Great Mother!” You said now checking your mother for injuries. It was a small quiet reminder of how quick time passed by. You now check your mother to she if she’s alright and not the other way around like she did when you were a kid heading into the forest alone.
Your mother had agreed because she had laughed before holding your face in her hands and saying “I am alright sweet daughter. It seems Tsahìk training is catching up to you. Looking for injuries already.” Your mother said pinching your cheeks like she did since you were a baby.
“Are you alr—”
“Jesus I let you two geniuses fly a mission and you disobey direct orders!” You were interrupted by the demon language, as your mom says. You turn and see Neteyam’s dad arguing with him and his brother. And you see it right away, the small cuts with blood seeping out of them, the bruise you can see forming. Whatever it was, however it happened, Neteyam got hurt. Your attention was immediately pulled onto him, hands slowly removing themselves from your mother.
You suddenly felt the warm hand pressed against your face, turning to head slightly to be face to face with your mother. “Go ‘ite. I’ll be fine.” Your mother said.
You had walked to the little girl you had left behind, slowly standing behind her not wanting to make your presence 100% known because Neteyam’s dad was acting more as Olo’eyktan than father at the moment. It seemed you weren’t the only one who noticed Neteyam’s scars, Kiri had walked up not minding her father’s tone and going straight to check up on her brother. She had done exactly what you would, moving him to see better, inspecting his scars. Tuk had also not feared her father’s tone, leaving you to go up to her brothers as well. You had stayed back, watching from afar moving from toes to heel back and forth to ignore the small awkwardness you felt not wanting to invade in the family moment.
You were still focused on Neteyam, seeing if his body language told you anything about how he felt. Hurt, uncomfortable, or as you hoped perfectly fine. It seemed the way he removed himself from Kiri’s hand, hiding whatever it was he felt. You had made eye contact with Kiri in that moment, she had given you a look of amusement from what you think, the obvious stress plastered on your face. It had instantly calmed you down though, because if Kiri was able to tease, it meant that Neteyam was fine.
Neteyam still hasn’t noticed you, not that it mattered he got distracted by you and blabbed about how “he was fine” and it’s “nothing serious.” From what you gathered observing the moment, it was Lo’ak’s fault and Neteyam was taking fault. You’d wish for many things in life like Lo’ak being more careful and thinking before he acted, Neteyam letting Lo’ak take responsibility for his actions, Jake being easier on his two sons, but you know it’s wishful thinking. Having gotten closer to Neteyam and therefore his family, their dynamic and the way things run is pretty set in stone. You wish Neteyam would stop putting on a brave face and get pop patched up, preferably by you, but patched up nontheless.
It seemed Eywa heard your prayers because Jake Sully was nodding Neteyam off to the healers tent. Along with Kiri, Tuk, Spider, and a sad Lo’ak. Leaving behind a very frustrated Olo’eyktan, a startled and worried young, and from the corner of your eyes, Neytiri whose expression you couldn’t read due to the fact you were still a little scared to speak to her one on one.
Neytiri was a fierce warrior. If you had been a warrior you would’ve hoped to be half as decent as her. Because of this she scared you. Yes she was sweet and yes Neteyam (and Tuk) have told you countless times how much she loves you, but you didn’t believe it. And you still couldn’t talk to without Neteyam (or Tuk) around. Eywa however, was not 100% on your side because you can see Neytiri inching forward you, making you face your slight fear head on.
“My son knows better.” She said now standing in front of you yet looking back to the tent where her children were.
You tried to ease whatever it was your heart was doing. “Neteyam is strong, he will be fine.”
She finally looksvtowards you. “I meant my youngest, Lo’ak.”
“Ah.” You said moving from the balls of your feet to your toes not sure what to say. You don’t disrespect Neytiri’s family ever. Let alone when she’s right in front of you.
“You can have an opinion my child, you will be— are a member of this family.” Her comment brought a blush to your face, heartwarming to know Neteyam’s family welcomed you. So much so it silenced you and you hadn’t even noticed until she spoke again.
“Why don’t you go? See if Neteyam is alright. From what I hear you are improving with your healing skills.”
“Hmm? Oh! Yes! Ok thank you!” You spilled flustered from the compliment, now realizing the word vomit you spit out. Walking faster away as if that would erase the moment entirely.
With conformation from Neytiri, you open the flap. The first person to notice you was Neteyam. Immediately standing up the moment he set eyes of you, aware this would not be the funnest of conversations. Since he stood up so abruptly everyone turned to see what it was that caught his attention. All the sudden eye contact made you nervous, debating if whether or not you should’ve walked in there. Well you hadn’t walk in you were still at the opening, not sure what to do next.
It was Mo’ak, Neteyam’s grandmother who you had gotten close with due to Tsahìk training, who spoke up first. “Up. Let’s go.”
When nobody moved she spoke again, this time with more authority aware of how everyone listened to what she said. “Let’s go, give them space.” Her hands now gestured to the Sully kids for them to leave.
You hadn’t really heard much of what came next, solely focused on Neteyam and the small cuts and bruises on his body. It was something along the lines of “bro” and “Tuk hurry up”
You felt quite bad forcing the Sully’s plus Spider to leave Neteyam, well Mo’at did but you still felt upset knowing they just wanted to see their brother get better.
You stood off to the side letting the family walk past you and out of the tent. But you still stayed by the flap, still not sure what your next move should be.
Neteyam, still standing, moved from the ball of his feet to his toes, a small tick you both did.
“I told you to be more careful Neteyam.” You said not sure what else to say.
“Please don’t be mad.” Neteyam said.
You knew your worry sometimes turned into anger. Having a sister who took over your parents and became a warrior, you often had a spat or two after seeing her come back home hurt. But you were never mad at the person, the situation, the demon people yes, Neteyam? Never.
“I’m not Neteyam, please sit down.” You replied, turning around to gather your supplies.
“Yes you are ma’yawnte. I can tell.”
“No Neteyam, I’m not. Sit.” You were now fed up with his persistence on your feelings. Your hands had now placed themselves on his shoulders. Turning his body at an angle so you could get a better view at the injuries on his back. They were not severe, just small cuts and a small bruise you could see forming. 
“No Neteyam. I’m not. Turn around. Please.” Your hands now occupying your basket full of ointments and bandages. You weren’t mad at him. Not really. From what you gathered from the talk with his dad, he was nearly helping his brother, something Neteyam would do over and over again no matter what. He loved his family so much he’d do anything to help them. And Lo’ak, Lo’ak who wanted to prove his place in this clan. You understood Lo’ak a bit. Neteyam’s duties often bleed into your conversations with him. Something you appreciated getting to know him and how he really feels.
Before you and Neteyam were you and Neteyam, you thought that he carried his duties easily, at least that’s what it looked like. But he didn’t, he tired and tired, and did very well, but it didn’t come without its challenges. So Lo’ak, probably the Sully you were least close with, you understood Lo’ak. Wanting to prove himself, and you’d be all for it if it didn’t come at the expense of your… Neteyam.
“Ma’yawnte I was just—”
“Helping Lo’ak, yes I know Neteyam. Turn.” Your hands now held Neteyams shoulders, bracing them so you could get a better look at his cuts. They were small, if necessary they could heal on their own. But it didn’t matter how small they were, because next text it gets worse and worse until something you didn’t even want to think about happens.
“Tiyawn you know I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“Yes Neteyam I know you didn’t plan to get almost blown up.”
“Come on—”
You had interrupted him with a hiss. Not wanting to hear of all things, him being mad at you for worrying about him.
“I understand Neteyam. I told you I understand.” You said now tired of repeating yourself. You had now moved down to his lower back. The cuts being more than you had previously thought. The ointment had made him squeal a bit, you were thankful for that, wanting to plant the idea that if it had been worse, the treatment and your attitude would be as well.
“But you’re mad tiyawn I know you are.” His back and now moved a bit to the side. You looked up to see him looking back at you, truly not wanting you to be mad at him.
“Not at you.” Your tone suddenly was suddenly small, not wanting Neteyam to get the impression that you would ever be mad at him because you weren’t. You weren’t mad at him, you weren’t even mad at Lo’ak. You were mad at the idea that something bad could’ve happened to Neteyam. That Neteyam, your sweet Neteyam who was destined for greatness, could’ve been taken from you. It made you mad, stressed, and filled with anxiety. The look you two were giving one another was so intense it could be cut with a knife. The only noise was your faint breathing and the small pebbles from your bracelet that Neteyam made for you 6 eclipses ago clinking together.
“Do you ever miss it sometimes?” Neteyam asked.
“What… miss what?” You asked now moving to his front to dab more ointment to his cuts.
“The forest.”
You were immediately confused, hands reaching up to Neteyam’s head to make sure everything was alright.
You were now moving his head back and forth to see suddenly if an injury were to appear. “Are you ok Neteyam? We live in the forest ma’paskalin.”
Neteyam’s head had now rubbed up into your hand a small purr escaping his mouth. Your affections were obvious, but barely did you express it through words, let alone pet names.
“I just mean… I mean the clan, Lo’ak, my dad, especially my dad they just… they just don’t understand.” Neteyam had now placed his hands on top of yours, still encompassing his face.
“What do you mean Neteyam?”
“Nevermind.” Neteyam try’s to get you to forget, kissing your nose.
“No, Neteyam tell me.” You said looking him in his eyes.
“It’s not important yawntu. Just thoughts.”
“Tell me your thoughts Neteyam. I always want to know what you think.” You had moved your hands to his heart, to show you really wanted to know him and all he was thinking.
“I can’t do it. I can’t have all these people all the time telling me what I should do, how to do it, what more I should do. I can’t do more anyways.”
The insecurity that had fallen from Neteyam’s lips almost made you sob. The boy who spent time and time again proving why he was great. Overworking himself, volunteering when he doesn’t have to, and still being the best brother and soon-to-be mate. You saw what he was, and you hated that he thought it wasn’t enough. “Oh Neteyam. You’re doing enough. More than that.”
“It is Lo’ak. Stupid Lo’ak, who doesn’t know when to stop. Doesn’t understand what his actions mean.”
You had moved, rubbing your thumb over his cheeks. “He’s just a boy Neteyam.”
“So? I knew more than him at that age.”
“Yes but—”
He kept going, not letting you get a word in. “And why are you defending him?”
“I’m not Neteyam. Listen—”
“And it’s as if him being stupid wasn’t enough. Everything he does is always my fault. It’s always Neteyam where were you, Neteyam your the older brother, Neteyam—”
You had smashed your lips against his. Interrupting him not wanting to hear what would be an endless loop of complaining, eventually silence, and repeat over and over again because despite everything, Lo’ak is his brother. And Neteyam loved him.
Neteyam melted into the kiss, forgetting all about Lo’ak, his father, and the clan that couldn’t mind their business. Your lips had moved with ease with Neteyam’s, not being the first kiss you shared, a moment you deeply wanted to forget yet cherish. You started laughing into the kiss, amusement from the fact you could melt Neteyam just like that. You had to break it, because knowing Neteyam he’d happily run out of oxygen if it meant kissing you for another moment. Yet, you still stayed close together, foreheads resting against one another.
“I miss the forest. With you. Alone. Away from everyone.” He said whispered, listing each one after the other.
“Then we shall go to the forest, alone, everyday.”
A small silence took over while you two started into each other’s eye before Neteyam spoke. “I like you yawntu.”
You laughed. “I should hope so.”
“I like that you except nothing of me. Makes me feel seen.”
“What a mind you have Neteyam. I expect you to be you.” You had finally pulled back, sitting on your feet, hands reaching out to rest over Neteyam’s heart. “But you are greatness Neteyam, strong, kind, mighty, and mine. You will be greatness because you are you.”
You hadn’t stopped there. Truly if you wanted you could go for days about what makes Neteyam so great. “You will be, and do such great things, no matter what they say.”
A small smile crept up to Neteyam’s face, his hands had grabbed yours and brought them up to his lips, giving them a small peck.
He had started kissing up your arms, through your shoulder blade, up your neck, and right to your lips.
“What would I do without you my muntxatu?”
You had chuckled at that replying, “Die, maybe.”
“Yes, proabably I think so too.” Neteyam said giving you another kiss.
. . ⋆ ˖᯽ ݁
Neteyam remembers the day he claimed his ikran, Seze. Conveniently, you were there as well, also claiming your own ikran. He remembers the fear you, him, and the two other kids that day faced. But most importantly he remembers it being the day he had the courage to speak to you. Neteyam did speak to you, but only in passing a quick hello, how are you, and goodbye. But that day, you were the only one who didn’t claim an ikran.
He remembers the other two warriors comforting you, reassuring you that you would get it next time. Neteyam was so caught up in thinking what to say to you. You’ll get it next time. But what would that do? You’d offer nothing but a variation of a small yea or thanks and he’d be back to square one. He couldn’t ask how do you feel because he knows. The Iknimaya was how you proved your readiness and place into the clan. It was important to pass, he had been so nervous to not succeed that he can’t imagine how you were feeling. Still, he couldn’t figure out what to say that when he turned to face you, the other two had taken you back.
At the time Neteyam and you weren’t friends. Neteyam wasn’t really friends with anyone. More focused on his training to help for the future. But he knew to ask the kids his age. He knew they were all friends with one another. He couldn’t ignore the pain in his chest knowing they all got to be kids while he was constantly looked up to as if he were already an adult. He also couldn’t ignore you, you who always smiled at him with that soft look on your eyes as if you knew what he was going through. After he had claimed his ikran though, his family had rushed him, as proud as ever. And when he told his mother he had decided to name her Seze, after his mother’s first ikran, there was no way he was getting out of his family’s sight. So he had made the decision to go talk to you tomorrow.
The next day Neteyam was a bundle of nerves. He wasn’t quite sure why he felt so nervous. Maybe it was because he wasn’t the best when it came to making friends, or small talk.
The next day Neteyam was a bundle of nerves. He wasn’t quite sure why he felt so nervous. Maybe it was because he wasn’t the best when it came to making friends, or small talk. Or maybe it was because whenever you looked at him, his stomach felt all weird. No, it was definitely the first one he thought.
Neteyam had found you by the river banks. Bow in hand, presumably trying to catch some fish. He remembers the sweat on his palms and the fast beating of his chest. But he also remembers how his father told him to always be brave, so he was being brave.
“Hi.” He said.
He realized maybe that wasn’t the best option because you were so focused on the fish Neteyam’s surprise visit had startled you so much, you had spun and turned your arrow towards him.
“Eywa Sully, don’t sneak up on people like that!” You said still startled.
That name made Neteyam still. Sure that was his last name, but coming from your mouth it was nothing but a reminder how you two were basically strangers. It freaked out Neteyam so much he froze. His shoulders were tensed, ears high in alert, arms still, legs planted to the ground. He had lost all the courage he had moments ago.
“Sully? You good?”
“Your form is off.”
“What?”
“Your form. You need to lift your arm up more and tense your stomach. Look.” Neteyam as if in auto pilot walked up behind you and moved you to get your form right.
“That one right there.” He said pointing to a fish in the river. “Shoot it.”
Neteyam didn’t know what made you listen to him but you did. You had let your arrow go and shot the fish.
“Wow… uh ok. Thanks?” You had said.
Neteyam who was still painfully aware of his hand on your arm and lower back did nothing but nod and step back. Staring hard at the ground to hide his purple cheeks from you.
“So, is that what you came here for? To correct my form?” You asked, still confused about the true intentions of his visit.
At your confrontation Neteyam forgot why he had shown up. To help you fish? To try and figure out why he felt so odd and helpless around you? He wasn’t sure.
“Neteyam…?”
That had pulled him out of thought. His name coming out of your lips. Not Sully, not his full title, just his name. Neteyam. It brought a warm feeling to his stomach. Felt like a song that brought warm memories to his ears. Felt like he could listen to that for the rest of his life. Neteyam. Neteyam. Neteyam. It meant you knew who he was, that your attention was on him in the moment.
“Hello? Neteyam?” Your hand now in his face trying to get him to focus.
“Hmm?”
“Are you ok?” Neteyam heard the confusion and a quiet underlying tone in your voice that he wasn’t quite sure what it was yet.
“Yes.” He says, now painfully aware of how weird he was acting. It’s not like him to go out of his way, his schedule to meet new people, he is very predictable. He too would be confused on why he’s here if he were you.
“Is that all you needed then mighty warrior?” There it was. That tone. You were annoyed with him. Guessing from the new nickname you gave him, Neteyam thought it might be about the fact that it looks like he came over here to show off. Helping you when help isn’t needed, wanted, or expected. He’s guessing now that you’re not having the best of days because usually from afar you appear very kind to your friends and new people. Maybe you just didn’t like Neteyam but he didn’t want to think of that possibility. Coming out here, alone at your age also wasn’t the smartest decision. Neteyam had to sneak from his dad to avoid the questions he would be receiving from heading into the forest alone. He can’t imagine your parents not having the same reaction at him
Neteyam fidgets, knowing he has to speak to you so you don’t think of him as a know-it-all. “I wanted to speak about last week. I wanted to say—”
“Stop.” You cut him off.
Neteyam visibly paused. Both physically and mentally like his brain had shut off. Out of all the things he imagined you say, and it was a lot because he got almost no sleep deep in thought, this wasn’t one.
He laughed it off. Trying to not show his embarrassment and deep shyness. “What?” He said weakly.
“I just… I’m sorry. I don’t wish to speak about it. I failed. I tried and that’s admirable. I’ll get it next time. Neteyam there’s nothing you’ll say to me that I haven’t heard already.”
Neteyam weirdly understood you at hat moment. It was as if he had know you his whole life and how your brain worked. People were probably constantly coming up to you and reminding you of the failure. While you were just trying to get over it. That’s when Neteyam remembered something. It was a lesson his grandmother had told him after a bad spar between him and another warrior in training. Neteyam had ended up bruised and cut from a tree when he was struck down, ultimately causing him to lose the fight. His grandmother had said “do not fixate on the failure part, embrace the room for growth, learn from it.” So Neteyam decided to take a different approach. Hoping it would work because he was now thinking on his feet.
“Ok.” In the time he was thinking you had sat right along the river. Toes in the water. Neteyam’s feet seemed to have a mind of their own because they walked up right next to you and sat down. “When are you training?”
You had turned to face him, a look of confusion washed all over you. Either from his close proximity to you or his question. Neteyam decided it was the question.
“Training?”
“To pass this time.” He replied softly, trying not to sound too arrogant.
“No. I think… I think it’ll be a while until I try again.” You said sadly.
Neteyam couldn’t understand what made you jump to that conclusion. Especially since it hadn’t even been a full day since the Iknimaya.
He treaded slowly, not wanting you to close yourself off. “Why?”
“It was just a lot. My parents say to try again in a week. My sister got it on the first try, and I think they don’t believe in me.”
“I believe in you.” Neteyam responded so flatly and so quickly as if it were second nature. Your tone was so hopeless he needed you to believe him, and it wasn’t like he was lying. He saw your determination and skill that day, he saw something that day. But he wasn’t quite sure what that something was. For now anyways.
You scoffed at him. “You don’t even know me, Sully.”
“No…” He whispered.
“Let me help you.” He said, trying to ignore the face that you were strangers and why that made him feel so weird.
“What?”
“We can train together, agility, reflexes, quick-thinking, you know. To help.”
You laughed. “I don’t think that will help me.”
“Yes it will.” Neteyam replied adamantly, not wanting you to give up on yourself so quickly.
“How do you think I got so good?” You scoffed at him at that, moving your head back and forth not believing him.
“That was a joke.” Neteyam said quietly now.
“I figured. Neteyam the mighty warrior doesn’t actually seem so bold.”
“I can be bold.”
You laughed at him again. Something you seemed to be doing a lot since he arrived.
“Let me show you.” He said
“That you can be bold?” You questioned.
“No, no. That we can train for your Iknimaya.”
You let out an unnecessary loud breath and got up. Neteyam watched as you grabbed your bow and basket walking away from home base and deeper into the forest. You had made it about 20 feet before turning around, catching Neteyam’s eyes as he stared at you. “So are we doing it or not?”
“What…” Neteyam said taken off guard.
“The training? Come on Sully, you claim to be this awesome teacher yet can’t even remember what you said two seconds ago.”
“No, no, let’s go.” Neteyam said imitating you and picking up his own bow. “And it’s Neteyam. Call me Neteyam.”
Ever since that interaction you and Neteyam had gotten closer. You had spent almost each day after that training out in the forest learning ways to help think on your feet. Neteyam learned more about you since, your personality, your family. He had even opened up to you about being the Olo’eyktan’s son. Eventually you passed your Iknimaya and had went straight to Neteyam to thank him. Ever since you had become great friends and spent a great amount of time together. Neteyam found his heart growing in size ever since being with you.
Now, as Neteyam courted you, saddling his and your Ikran to go out and fly together, he had to thank Eywa for the outcome of your Iknimaya the first time around. Because if not, he wouldn’t have had the courage to speak to you, and he wouldn’t have found the person he wished to spend the rest of his life mated with.
Neteyam felt your presence behind him, his senses almost heightened when it came to you. His eyes, according to Kiri, dilated when they looked towards you, his tail and ears alert as ever. His sense seemed to prove him right when he heard you whisper in his ear, “Ready?” Your hands placed onto his hips causing a purple hue to take over his face.
“Hi sevin.” He said face as close as ever to yours, noses touching.
“Hi.” You said shyly.
When Neteyam went out flying on ikrans with you, date night as he called it, he had gotten more bold with you. Something that rarely happened. But he thought it best to show this side of him.
“Hi tìyawn.” He said again, teasing your shyness towards him.
“Let’s go tìyawn, before we get stuck with Tuk.” He said, mounting his ikran, nodding for you to do the same.
You had given him a look of disapproval but slight understanding. Tuk was quite smitten with you and loved being around you. She claimed you weren’t “mean” to her like her siblings. Which was true to an extent, Neteyam made it a point to tell you that you needed to be more stern with her. Or she’ll walk all over you and nudge her way into your time with him. Which he highly disproved of. Watching you mount your ikran Neteyam motioned for you to head first.
Flying was something Neteyam loved doing. It helped him focus, rid his brain of any and all thoughts and feelings the breeze beneath his wings. Literally and figuratively because of the bond with Seze. He had almost never felt more alive than with flying. It brought many others closer to him. His parents, who taught him how to claim in ikra, and later helped him fly learning the winds and face the mountains. His brother, Lo’ak who he had never felt more connected to than in the air. His sister, Tuk who still couldn’t claim her own ikran and would fight to go with Neteyam and later ended up with Kiri. And you, whose ikran failure is the single thing that brought you two closer together. It was an alone time together, a way away from everyone.
As he rode in the wind, he saw you, who also loved your ikran, Katir, your bond was strong because it took an extra amount of attempts to claim her.
The wind in your hands and determination in your face was a sight that Neteyam could look at forever. Seeing you as happy and relaxed as ever.
Neteyam made a calling sound, one that mimicked that of an animal. It is something his mother does that he had come accustomed to. He had made the decision to make his own and it had taken around two weeks for you to fully identify it, still accustomed to your own mother’s call. It had worked though because when he looked back to see if you were following him to the small cleaning on rocks covered with foliage.
“I’m still faster ma’yawne.” He said to you dismounting his ikran heading towards you. He opens his hand towards you to help. “It seems all that time spent with Ukyo isn’t helping.” He moved to pet Katir to hide his small jealousy.
“Stop it Neteyam.” You said lightly with no real bite to it.
“I didn’t say anything yawntu.” He put his hands up as if surrendering. “Just facts.”
“Facts that Ukyo has been my friend since forever. Not my fault your only female friend is Tuk.”
“Nuh-uh.” He replied wiggling his fingers in your face then settled them on your waist. “You forget Kiri.”
“Oh yea.” You said mocking his hands, before placing them on his face “Let’s not forget Mo’at.”
“Ok yes I get it yawnte.” He said hands matching yours holding your hands that were holding your face.
Neteyam moved and kissed your nose. Hands still holding your but moving them away from his face. Leading you away from your ikran and into the forest. He needed to know you were near. For one, being in the forest with predators and now the sky people keeping you close meant keeping you safe. But also, when you were near it kept him calm happy, even if you both were safe back at camp sleeping. It seemed all of you, your body, your proximity, was what kept him safe.
You and Neteyam had spent all day walking in the forest. Playing, running, laughing, hiding, hunting. Everything you did, even the small unimportant things together, was perfect. Even in silence, laying together as you are now, was perfect.
Your head was resting on Neteyam’s chest, just how he liked it. Neteyam could spend every waking minute with you like this. The way your hands on his body made him hot, the way your gaze made him feel shy, and the way your voice made him feel calm. Everything you did made him feel whole, something he would now forever have by his side always making him feel loved. He had no other way to show it for now other than this,
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
༉ bsf!Neteyam who met you because your mothers were friends
༉ bsf!Neteyam who became your best friend when he accidentally threw a fish at your head
༉ bsf!Neteyam who secretly has feelings for you but won’t admit it in fear of loosing you
༉ bsf!Neteyam who realized his friendship with you was different when you hung out with Lo’ak, Kiri, and Spider instead of him
“Why would you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Hang out with them.”
“They’re my friend’s Neteyam.”
“No, I’m your friend. They’re just your friends siblings.”
༉ bsf!Neteyam who goes out of his way to get you anything you need
༉ bsf!Neteyam who stayed out way past eclipse because he was so focused on gathering bits to make you a necklace he lost track of time
“Shit.” He said looking up, only now noticing the dark sky.
He ran towards the camp hand clutching his satchel full of bits for you, not letting this be all be for nothing.
When he finally got home he saw his dad about to mount his ikran, in the hopes to find him.
“Neteyam! Where were you? Are you kidding me boy do you know how late it is?”
“I know. I’m sorry sir.”
It seemed Eywa was not on Neteyam’s side because at that moment his satchel decided to rip, spilling all his hard work onto the ground.
His dad, still mad, just said “Get inside boy.”
༉ bsf!Neteyam who tried to learn the sky people language from Lo’ak and then his dad because you said it intrigued you
“No bro.” Lo’ak replied to his question not even giving him a second glance.
“You want to learn what?” His dad said perplexed by his request.
༉ bsf!Neteyam who becomes your personal basket carrier when you want to go foraging
༉ bsf!Neteyam who becomes so obviously jealous when you talk to other guys
“Who was that?”
“Eyn?” You replied confused by his tone.
“What did he want.”
“Nothing, he just gave me some spartan fruits. Why does it matter?”
“Don’t talk to him. I’ll get you the fruits, or whatever you need. Ok?”
༉ bsf!Neteyam who crafted you your first bow
༉ bsf!Neteyam who asks Tuk to go talk to you to learn about your favorite things
༉ bsf!Neteyam whose already won over your parent’s approval
༉ bsf!Neteyam who has tried to confess to you three different times but backed out each time
The first was when he was 15, he had seen you not far ahead holding a basket full of fruits. He had intended to talk to you alone, to confess, yet when you’d seen him you said “Neteyam I need a friend’s advice…” You and him were friends so he wasn’t sure why now the word has made his heart heart so much. So much so it freaked him out of asking you because if his heart had hurt this much from one word, he couldn’t imagine if you didn’t reciprocate his feelings.
The second time was when he was 16, he had just come back from an RDA raid where he was supposed to be just a spotter. He had ended up hurt and getting patched by his grandmother when you walked in. He wanted to do it now more than ever knowing the sky people were getting more dangerous. His grandmother left the tent, leaving you two alone with your hands all over him looking at the damage. Yet before he could say what he needed to, Lo’ak walked in apologizing for getting him into this mess.
The third time was last week. You and Neteyam frequently go on ikran rides alone during the day. An idea he got from his father called, date night. You were resting on top of him when Neteyam finally plucked up the courage to speak.
“Yawntu.” He whispered still scared out of his mind.
He was met with silence the only sound being the quiet breathes coming out of your mouth. You were asleep.
༉ bsf!Neteyam who doesn’t know you feel the exact same way
༉ folkmore - everything about you and neteyam. the oldest sully boy from the omatikaya clan who now lives amongst your people, the metkayina. 4.4k
one shots:
༉ sweet nothing — neteyam and you are in the courting stage of your relationship. each time you both show how much you really mean to one another, you both can’t help but fall deeper in love. 11.4k
headcanons:
༉ bsf!neteyam
LO’AK TE SULI TSYEYK’ITAN
one shots:
˖᯽ ݁ “the way of water has no beginning and no end. the sea is around you and in you. the sea is your home, before your birth and after your death. the sea gives and the sea takes. water connects all things: life to death, darkness to light.”
prguitarman
germansingergirl
yousharknotpass
gummygunk
areudirty
romaincrisis
pixelskylines
dailybridgerton
stormborns
