Shwoomp

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

His breaths come in deep shudders, chest rising and falling as he gasps for air. Wukula had really gotten him this time. So’lek’s ribs ached, and all he could do was stare up at the dark sky above him. Raindrops fall from the curling depths of the clouds, splattering lightly against his face and arms. But So’lek doesn’t feel it. All he feels is pain–and misery. 

Is Tamtey alright? He had left her so quickly, eager to get rid of the threat to his new family. Now he feels a twinge of regret. What if leaving her had damned her? Is she awake? Breathing? She had been heavily injured, covered in open wounds and dried blood that made So’lek hold back gags. It had been obvious she had been through a lot while captured, but So’lek had tried to clear his mind of it. He had carried her, Tamtey’s limp body light in his hands and her head lolling against his shoulder. Now he hopes that the others have found her, taken her somewhere safe. To heal her and help her. He expects nothing for himself in this moment, darkness seeping into his vision. In this moment, he feels only sorrow, aching to see Tamtey again before he closes his eyes. But he is losing the battle–eyes are growing heavier, and the world spins above him. Darkness seeps in, starting from the corner of his vision until it finally crowds to cover his pupils. For a second, he knows only darkness, submerged in a world of black. He fights for just a moment longer, desperate. But he fails, and the last thing he thinks about before he succumbs to the abyss is the luminosity of Tamtey’s eyes. 

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

The first thing he sees is the flickering of lantern fire splashing against grey sheets of smooth rock. His eyes barely open, eyelids flitting to cover his yellow eyes as they meet harsh light for the first time. So’lek takes in a quick breath, urging his eyes to open fully. He squints, forcing his pupils to focus on his surroundings. He comes back to himself slowly, taking in the current state of his long body. He feels the ache in his chest, the burning of lacerations in the process of healing strewn across his arms and legs. His back is sore where it is propped up against upholstered cushions stuffed full of zakru hair, but even with the softness beneath him, he is positive that he is covered in a smattering of bruises from the way even the slightest shift of the fabric on skin makes him grit his teeth. He takes one more sweep of the room from where he lies on the ground, finding nothing but the familiar walls of his solitude. He is dazed, comforted to know he is home–he snuggles in deeper into the cushion despite his pain, tongue brushing over his fangs beneath his lips. He allows himself to rest, eyes closing–then the reality of his situation settles in. 

His eyes fly up, heart beginning to pound as he struggles to sit up. The bandages across his skin pull at the scabbing wounds as his muscles strain, but he does not stop. He manages to sit upright, breaths coming in shallow and rapid. He groans, clenching his abdomen, but still tries to push off the ground. 

Where is Tamtey? 

For a moment, he is delirious, pawing at the hard ground beneath him for any sense of support. He fails miserably. He throws out cusses, swearing into the air around him and growling in frustration–he is seconds away from screaming out when bodies begin to surround him, voices intelligible as they urgently encourage him to lie back down. So’lek refuses, jerking back when hands push against his shoulders–he hisses loudly, teeth bared and eyes focusing on the people in front of him. The soft eyes of the Aranahe tsahik find his, naked brows burrowed in concern. To her left is Rasi, wrinkled hands pulling the younger woman when she sees So’lek’s distress. 

“So’lek, please calm down,” scolds Etuwa, desperate to make the older man listen. So’lek’s eyes flicker between the two women, tail slashing in wide arcs behind him. Slowly, he complies, allowing himself to slow his heart and breathing–but he does not lie back down. 

“What happened? Where is Tamtey?” His voice is strained, words breaking between small gasps for air. Definitely broken ribs. He doesn’t dwell on it. Rasi and Etuwa just watch him, still trying to persuade him to lie down. It only angers him more. 

“Stop! Where is Tamtey?” He has never raised his voice at them before; he rarely does at anyone. Even he can hear the anguish in his expression. It is so desperate that he is certain the women hear it; there is nothing to hide it. The love. He doesn’t even attempt to tame it. Let the whole moon know. 

“So’lek, you need to calm yourself. We will tell you everything, but you must rest,’ says Rasi, her wisened voice soothing. So’lek rolls his eyes, impatient. He does not want to rest, he wants–no, needs to know if Tamtey is okay, “I am calm. Please speak.” Etuwa sighs, throwing her hands out in exasperation, “You are still so difficult even after all of these years!” So’lek doesn’t respond, looking up at her, disgruntled and aching. Etuwa drops to her knees in front of him on the floor, Rasi following slower. They share one glance, Rasi nodding for Etuwa to continue. 

“You have been unconscious for days. Only a few, but you are very hurt and dehydrated. You are stubborn even in your sleep; no water would move past your lips.” So’lek huffs, impatient, “I know that I am injured, you do not have to tell me. Just tell me about Tamtey.” Etuwa sends up a quick prayer to Eywa for her to find patience when dealing with this insufferable man, “We found both of you at the remnants of Hometree–well, the Sarentu found you. You were next to Wukula, and Teylan helped get you back. Ri’nela and Rasi found Tamtey just outside of the metal walls.” They were still avoiding telling him about Tamtey’s current state. Something must be terribly wrong, but he doesn’t voice his opinion, fervent to hear what else they have to say. Etuwa takes a deep breath, voice catching in her throat. The young tsahik looks to Rasi for help. 

Oh no.

“Tamtey is sleeping.” That is all the elder gives him. So’lek’s eyes narrow, “And what else?” Rasi sighs, a hand coming out to rest on So’lek’s bandaged arm.

“Are you sure you want to know this, So’lek?” The man flinches back, golden eyes searching Rasi’s own. She must see his misery, giving into his desires as she speaks again, “Tamtey was heavily injured. More than you. The explosion at Hometree surely did not help her wounds,” she pauses, licking her lips, “But that is not the worst of it. They did things to her–the RDA and…the Mangwkan. We cannot ask her since she has not woken up, but it is clear that they have tortured her.” So’lek doesn’t let Rasi get out another word, moving both of his hands behind him to push himself up onto his knees. The two women frantically try to push him back down, but he is having none of it. Even in his weakened state, he is stronger than the two of them. He growls at them lowly, “Let me see her!” His voice is rough, mangled. Rasi and Etuwa finally give in; So’lek knows he is a sorry sight. The two women lift him together, one arm under each of his shoulders. Lifting his arms to rest on theirs hurts terribly, but he doesn’t dare to make a noise, stumbling along. 

They help him up the small ledges to reach the area where his large map hangs on the wall. Just below it lies Tamtey, unconscious. At the sight of her, So’lek’s legs seem to give out, knees buckling to the ground at her side. Rasi and Etuwa let him fall. He sees no one else, not even noticing Ri’nela and Teylan on the other side of Tamtey. His breath is shaky as he inhales, hands hovering over the Sarentu’s supine form, never touching. He takes in Tamtey’s body, wrapped in more bandages and salve than his, the arm on the other side of him attached to a line leading into a bag of fluids. The humans had to intervene then. Her head has a healing gash on it,  a large scab, purple and swollen, where it rests above her right eye. His eyes trail lower to find layers of cloth wrapping around her chest, some spots dark with blood. He swallows as he searches her extremities. There, he sees multiple marks: burns, cuts, and bruises. They are like a new pattern on the light blue of her skin. Only her wrists are wrapped, likely injured from being in metal cuffs. The only thing they had left on her was her loincloth, torn at the edges and filled with holes from licks of fire. He can see everything, and he has never felt so scared. Slowly, So’lek lets one hand fall to the curve of Tamtey’s left cheek, rubbing his thumb over her Sarentu mark in absentminded circles. Feeling her. 

“Has she not awoken?” He sounds wrecked– so far gone for this woman, he cannot even begin to comprehend what he would do if he lost her. 

“No, ma So’lek,” states Ri’nela, voice barely above a whisper. She’s crouched on the other side of Tamtey, staring at him. He sees it from the corner of his eye, but he cannot look away from Tamtey.

“It is bad then?” 

There is silence at his words, and that alone is all the confirmation he needs, “I want to stay here. Next to her. I will rest, but it will be at her side.” He is firm. Final. He is not going to play petty games or argue back and forth, because Tamtey had to be in his line of sight at all times. In case she–when she wakes up. Ri’nela purses her lips, torn, “So’lek, I do not think that is a good–,” he cuts her off, “I do not care what you think. I am not moving.” It was barked. Snappish. He only takes a moment to feel guilty, just because Ri’nela is always so kind. But he can never control himself when it comes to Tamtey. Ri’nela does not even flinch, expecting him to lash out; she has seen the differences in treatment of Tamtey compared to the other Sarentu since the start. She cannot blame him for doing so. So, she nods, “Okay, So’lek. Okay.” Ri’nela stands, motioning for the others to follow her away from the two Na’vi on the ground, making the excuse of grabbing more supplies for So’lek’s reopened wounds. But really, she knows he needs a moment alone. 

Once they are out of sight, So’lek falls to the side from his spot on his knees, crumbling into a fetal position. From here, he can still see the gentle rise and fall of Tamtey’s wrapped chest. Seeing the evidence of her breathing allows him to finally fall into the chasm of sleep once more.

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

A few more days pass. So’lek does not leave her side, to the others' chagrin. He flitters around her, unwary of his own injuries, to check her bandages, put salves on her healing bruises and burns, and force water down her throat. The feeling of trepidation has not left his throat since he last woke up. According to the others, Tamtey has been asleep for a week. She has barely roused; the only movement they have seen from her has been beneath her eyelids. She is still there, yet So’lek’s worries only deepen. He hates seeing her like this: weak, sick, and vulnerable. It reminds him of his shortcomings. His failure to protect her. He had let them take her away and allowed them to torture her for days—he had not been fast enough. These thoughts plague his mind as he gently rewraps one of Tamtey’s angular wrists, making sure not to tighten them too much. He did not want her to be in any more pain.

Outside, it is dark, eclipse having long passed, and the others have long since gone to sleep for the night. They had quickly stopped pestering him to leave Tamtey’s side once they saw his determination. 

He ties off the edge of the bandage, tucking in its little tail. He settles back, butt falling into the pit of his knees. 

He lets his chin fall to his chest, eyes blinking closed. Quietly, under his breath,  he mutters a long prayer to Eywa. 

Please, Great Mother, let Tamtey rise from this. She is a warrior. And a leader. She is true of heart and fights not just for her people, but all of The People. She is the most deserving of life and living. She has had so much taken from her. Please do not take her from me. I cannot lose anyone else. 

He finishes, choosing to reflect. He sits in silence, taking in all of the sounds of the night. The crickets of insects, the quiet grumbles of the ikran outside, the small puffs of Tamtey’s breath. 

In and out. In and out. 

It hitches.

His ears flick back, honing in on the pattern of her breathing. It has returned to normal, but then a slight whimper breaks the silence. His eyes fly open, and he rocks forward, hovering over Tamtey. Her face is screwed up, eyes clenching, and lips puckering into a grimace. She is waking up. So’lek’s hands find her cheeks, centering her head as he moves his face over hers. He wanted to see her eyes so badly.

Please.

He waits, holding his breath. Then, slowly, Tamtey’s eyes bat open, long eyelashes brushing against the hollowed bags of her eyes. He feels a lump begin to form in his throat. His eyes meet hers, the vibrant mixture of colors in her irises so wide and encompassing. Slowly, her gaze focuses, finding him. She breathes out a quivering, “So’lek?” He cannot speak; his throat has seemingly sealed shut. He is not even sure if he is awake. He just swallows, nodding at her. She still looks confused, eyebrows furrowing, and one of her arms reaching up, shaking from the effort as she tries to reach him. He meets her halfway, one of his hands leaving her face to grab her fingers, bringing them to rest on her chest. At his touch, she seems to break, “So’lek.” Then tears are welling in her eyes, and she is suddenly sobbing beneath him. He panics, eyes widening, hands back on her cheeks, “Tamtey? Tamtey, it is alright.” She just stares up at him, her eyes filling with more tears as they continue to fall down the azure skin of her face. He cups her neck, letting his thumbs find the curve of her rounded jaw. He swipes his thumbs across her skin where they lie, “Tam tam, ma Tamtey.” He keeps the calloused pads of her fingers where he can feel her heart beat in her throat. 

Tamtey sniffles, sobs beginning to quiet, “Help me up, please.” Her voice is croaky. So’lek jumps into action, finding a nearby cup of water and bringing it to her, tilting her head and neck up enough for her to swallow the liquid. He tries to make her drink more, but she weakly bats his hands away, urging him to help her. And of course, he obliges, moving her to sit up and letting her lean against his side for support. They sit together, Tamtey taking a second to catch her breath from the struggle of moving on her own after so long. His hands don’t leave her body, one arm wrapped around her waist, the other resting in his lap, ready for action.

“I thought I was dead.” Tamtey’s words are soft, barely loud enough to be heard. But, So’lek does. He clenches his jaw, feeling the familiar stretch of scarred skin on his left cheek, “Luckily, you are not.” That earns him a chuckle, followed by a coughing fit that wracks Tamtey’s weakened body. He holds her sturdily, rubbing her back and feeding her water. As he goes to bring the water cup away, Tamtey’s hand wraps around his thickly boned wrist. He looks over to her, meeting her gaze immediately. She takes the cup from him without breaking eye contact, placing it somewhere behind her. He just watches her, waiting. 

“And…I thought I would never see you again.” He does not know what he was expecting her to say, but it definitely was not that. And he definitely is not prepared for the way his eyes begin to burn, “Do not say such things. You knew I would come for you.” He refuses to let the tears fall, but Tamtey sees them forming and frowns, “I knew you would, but the days were starting to blend together, and then th-the fire. They drugged me, and I had no idea what was happening, and I was so tired, ma So’lek.” Her voice is ragged and filled with heartache, only worsening as she continues, “And for a moment I thought I heard your voice, but I could not yell out to you. My lips would not move, and-and my throat was too tight, and I could not tell you that I–,” her voice cracks. So’lek feels his fragile heart cracking alongside it. He coos at her with a click of his tongue, as he would to an ailing animal, “You do not need to say any more, ma Tamtey.” She just shakes her head back in response, rapid enough to send the beads in her hair tinkling as they clack against each other.

“You do not understand, So’lek! I have so much left unsaid, and I thought you would never know it!” He reaches out a large hand to her face, cupping one cheek to bring her more into the present. One of his long fangs snags on his lip as he contemplates his next action, his tail thumping on the ground behind him. Tamtey doesn’t move or say another word, undoubtedly waiting for him to go on. As he stares into the glossy depths of her eyes, so full of anguish and regret, he feels the dam break, “I do understand. I understand more than you know. When you were taken, all I could think of was how I let it happen. How to get you back. After days had passed, I began to doubt myself, and I began to think–”, his last word is gagged out, jaw and throat muscles clenching, but he forces himself to continue, “I thought about how there was so much I had not told you, or showed you, or learned from you. I thought for just a moment–what if I do not find her? What if I am too late and she is gone by the time I get there? Hurting or dead? You, Tamtey! Dead! And I never would have told you how I felt–how I feel. Because I am a coward.” His words were all rushed, growing in volume until his last statement, which he practically roared out. 

He does not realize he is crying until Tamtey lifts one of her bandaged, shaking hands and wipes away a small accumulation of tears from beneath his eye, “You are not a coward, So’lek.” The tears in his eyes begin to burn anew with anger, “I am! I am older! I should be the wise and brave one. Not the one who hides!” He is sure the others can hear his yelling now, but they do not come rushing from their spots, opting to give him and Tamtey this moment for themselves. 

“You do not always need to be the wise and brave one, So’lek! You are still a person, and you still deserve the right to feel. You are not a coward for that.” 

Tamtey’s words are gentle. Soothing. He stares at her chapped lips, barely nodding as he responds, “You may be right about that. But I am still a coward for never telling you that I care for you.” At his words, Tamtey freezes in front of him, the thumb stroking his cheek sliding to a stop. For a breath, they just look at each other, yellow eyes locked on her moss-colored ones. Then, Tamtey leans into him, her nose only millimeters from his own, “Oel ngati kameie, ma So’lek.” 

So’lek sucks in a breath, heart stuttering beneath his healing ribs, but he does not waste a second, “Oel ngati kameie, ma Tamtey.” Then his hands are at her neck, thumbs brushing the base of her softened jaw as he pulls her into him the rest of the way. Their lips meet, both sets dry from dehydration as they slide against one another. But, So’lek does not mind, because to him it is still perfect. He savors it, the first time he tastes her, because she is just like how he imagined: sweet and something so undeniably Tamtey. In a wink, it is over, the two of them pulling back to rest their foreheads against one another, bare of gear or paint. Just skin on skin. They sit together, breathing each other in. So’lek relishes the moment, painting it into his memory. Eyes still closed, his plush lips part, “There is much to talk about, ma Tamtey. But you need rest.” He cannot see it, but still feels the warm breath that comes from the huff of annoyance Tamtey lets out, “You are such a sourpuss.” 

So’lek leans away from her, brow furrowing in confusion, “A what?” Tamtey just giggles at him, not giving him an answer. Instead, she pulls on his arm, hugging it to her body, “Let’s sleep then!” He cannot help the involuntary blush that rushes to his cheeks at the close contact. Even with this tension snapped between them, she still makes him so nervous. He has never met a woman like Tamtey before, and she was his. He slaps himself internally. Not his. Not yet. Maybe? 

He shakes his head to rid himself of the confusing thoughts swirling in the confines of his skull. 

Instead, he obliges, letting Tamtey’s playful personality win out against his grouchy one once again as he dramatically falls to the ground, pulling her down with him–gentle enough not to hurt her, of course–and she collapses onto him with an oof. 

They just lie there, arms encompassing each other in a tight embrace, Tamtey’s cheek resting on his naked chest. His eyes close, allowing himself to relax for the first time in over a week, when Tamtey’s snorting snicker breaks the peace. So’lek’s eyes peel open, neck tilting to look down at the woman resting on his pec. She is looking up at him, cheek squished against his muscle. Cute. 

He sighs, “What is it, Tamtey?”

She just snorts again, voice taunting him as she proclaims, “You like me!” So’lek groans, eyes rolling far into his head out of exasperation. 

“Go to sleep, Tamtey.” He cannot keep the fondness from his voice, one side of his mouth flickering into a smile. She just giggles again, smacking a wet kiss to his unclothed front, “Mwah! I can’t wait to tell everyone that you have a crush on me!” The shake of his chest is uncontrollable, Tamtey’s head flopping up and down on top of it from the strength of his laugh, “Tamtey!” She just cackles from her spot, chin digging into his skin. 

When they finally pull themselves together, So’lek presses a kiss to the crown of her head, “Goodnight, ma yawne.” She whispers it back, eyes falling closed.