#blurred fate

'He is not your son' General Ardmores words rang in his ears, adding to the burning sensation in his chest. Quaritch leaned heavily on his ikran with a pained croak, defeated, interlinking his kuru before sluggishly dragging himself up the saddle.

His Ikran felt the rattling of his breath, his weak state and his mind that was too delirious to even properly tell her where to go. After a few seconds of trying to sit on her back properly, he managed to get up into the sky, but it was jolty and he was barely holding onto the saddle to steady himself.

He coughed up more water, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, the salty taste mixing with the one of his blood. With every cough, the ache behind his ribs grew stronger.

He looked around himself, trying to locate where he was and which direction he needed to go. Right now, he was over what seemed like a forest. Not that he would know, everything was blurry and out of focus. He shook his head in frustration. He had to get back to Hell's Gate, that much was clear. Well, the clearest thing his head could muster at the moment.

Though, through everything and nothing that was swirling around in his head, Quaritch didn't notice how high he was flying, the air getting thinner and thinner the further he went, his lungs feeling like they were getting surpressed by his tactical vest.

He gasped for air, his ears pinned to his head in panic. He tried to pull at his vest, as if it would help him if he removed it, but his arms felt heavy like lead.

"Sweet girl, we gotta- we.." he wheezed, his head suddenly as dense as a dumbell.

The last thing he heard before his vision went frizzy and he passed out was his Ikran shrieking, almost as if trying to keep him awake, but it was no use.

He went slack on the back of his ikran, his arms falling to his sides, getting caught on his braid and ripping it away, causing the tsaheylu to break off. The sudden yank on his ikrans kuru made her scream and thrash around in the sky, completely loosing her balance and sense of orientation.

The poor thing panicked as her wings weren't able to grasp onto a strong gust of wind to steady herself again. The ground underneath both of them came closer by the second, a sea of lush green tree canopies hopefully feathering their fall...

★

You stalked quietly through the forest, your eyes trained on every flower you came across. Varang had asked you to collect some plants since the clans medicine was starting to run out and she only trusted you with indentifying the right flowers and mushrooms.

So far, you hadn't been too lucky, though.

Your woven pouch wasn't even half full, just a few koaktutral stems you had managed to find, but not even enough for a spoon full of the antibiotic salve.

You knelt to pry another root from the ground, not much, but at least something.

You growled annoyed. How long had you been out here again? You had been gathering plants since the first light and you almost didn't find anything yet! Varang would probably put your head on a spike if you came back empty handed.

Most plants you came across so far had been either poisonous or completely rotten to the point you couldn't even safe the leaves for paint pigments.

Out of boredom, you cut through a few ferns in your way and let your fingers wander over some grass that had grown too tall. You took a deep breath, the air still smelling faintly of soot from the catastrophy that had happened years ago, but life crept back anyway, greenery stubbornly pushing through the ash.

You were glad that this part of the forest, which was still mankwan territory, started to grow back. But that also meant useful flowers were sparse and hard to find. You still remembered how it had been like, when everything was a lushious shade of green, smelling of fresh dew and sweet fruits. When your parents would take you on a walk through the forest, your father teaching you how to tell the plants apart that you could use to calm an upset tummy.

All that before you had to watch them get eaten alive by the scorching lava washing through your village, pulling everything and everyone into the flames.

You sighed softly, shaking your head to get the gruesome pictures out if your head. After another thirty minutes, you grew tired of searching further. You halted and looked down at your bag, scoffing at its meager contents.

You were just about to turn around when you spotted something purple out of the corner of your eyes. You turned around and couldn't believe it- three large dapophet plants just blooming behind the bark of a fallen tree. Their top leaves were long and thick and looked perfectly untouched, one of the biggest dapophet leaves you had ever seen! This was your lucky day!

With a skip in your step, you went over to collect the goods. Carefully, you cut away a few of the leaves on the top of the plant without opening them, so the juice inside wouldn’t go to waste. You sat on the mossy floor of the forest, happily humming to yourself. Then you took your bottle made out of a hollowed out direhorse bone that was secured on the satch around your hips, cut open the leaves and watched the sap drip slowly into your bottle.

Once your bottle was full, you packed the empty leaves into you woven bag. When dried, they were perfect for keeping firepits burning for a long time. You wrapped the other leaves you had harvested from the three plants into a soft cloth so they wouldn’t accidentally burst in your bag while transporting.

After you were done packing everything away carefully, you straightened back up and investigated the area around the flowers in hopes you'd find something else to put in your satch.

And to your surpise and awe, you actually found one single scorpion thistle hidden away between some bushes and branches near the dapophets.

You squealed like a little girl as you crouched down next to the rare flower, admiring its beautiful vibrant colours and touching its petals softly. This was your mothers favourite flower and in this moment, you wished she were here to collect it with you.

You were about to cut the stem for its sap when your heart nearly jumped out of your chest, your tail straightening in terror.

Something crashed through the canopy like thunder not too far away from you. Whatever it was, it shrieked, sounding like an ikran. That wasn't possible. An ikran? Here? They were never found in the forest, especially not alone. Unless...

You winced, your ears pinning to your head as you paced left to right, agitated. You knew better than to go and look after whatever it was that just fell from the sky, or who. And for a moment you contemplaited wether to just turn around and leave, so you wouldn’t get into trouble, especially because the only thing you had to defend yourself was a simple stone knife, but...

This was stupid.

So stupid.

Curiousity got the better of you and you slowly crouched in the moss, careful not to make any sound as you stalked towards the scene you heard the ikran shriek from, your knife always by your side.

As you were nestled between tall planes of grass, you saw a distressed ikran cooing to and nudging something on the ground.

You stood up taller to see what it was. Something blue laid on the forest floor, unmoving. Na'vi, you thought quickly, one of the omatikaya if his vibrant deep blue skin was anything to go by. This was the last bit of forest that was still part of mankwan territory, so what was he doing here?

After a few moments, he remained deathly still. Shit, what were you supposed to do? You could still flee, ignore what you saw and just never tell anyone. But...he already seemed kinda dead, it wouldn’t hurt to just take a look, right? Maybe see if he carried anything useful with him, he wouldn’t need it anyway if he in fact didn't survive the fall.

Slowly, as to not startle the ikran, you walked closer, crouching lowly. When you neared, the ikran gave a scream and puffed out her chest. You held up your empty hands, showing the animal that you weren't here to hurt her or her rider.

After you made sure the ikran wasn't about to behead you, you dropped to your knees next to the man, expecting a loincloth, locks adorned with feathers and beaded necklaces, but instead you were met with camouflage pants, a tactical vest and a weapon belt. And as if that wasn't already bad, he had five fingers.

A sky demon, maybe even one of those dreamwalkers you had heard about.

And he was in fact still alive, just passed out, you noticed his chest rise and fall. You gasped, looking him over for any signs that he might wake up. You were sure he'd kill you instantly and you had nothing to defend yourself besides your puny little knife.

You quickly went to scavange his weapons, heart pounding in your chest, but as you were about to fish his gun out of the holster around his hips, you touched something wet.

Your brows furrowed and then it suddenly stung in your nose- the fresh scent of blood. Pealing back his tank, there was a gaping wound in his side, probably caused by his fall, not counting the numerous cuts on his arms and face and his bruised eye.

Blood seeped into the dirt in a spreading, sickening pool. "Txan!" you exclaimed. This was bad. What were you supposed to do? Finish the job? Rob an injured person?

You couldn't just leave, could you? You could and you definitely should while you still had a chance. But if you left him like this, he'd die here, nothing to argue about that.

Why would you even care, it would be better that way! One less of these demons taking and destroying your planet.

But somehow, when you looked at his rested face, his ears twitching softly, your heart seemed to force you to stay. Something pulled you in. You couldn't move a muscle and time was running out. You looked around you, as if anyone was there to help you decide, before you hissed at yourself in frustration "What am I doing?" you asked yourself as your hands seemed to move on their own. You tried to remove his vest in one piece, but you had to cut it open in the end, as well as his tank since the garments got in the way.

The wound was ugly, you couldn't stitch it, but you hopefully could stop the bleeding. You took the wrapped up dapophet leaves out of your pouch, unwrapped them before carelessly snapping them in half to let the cloth soak up their sap.

In this moment, it felt like the cloth took forever to be saturated in the juice. The second you deemed it enough, you went to tightly bind it around his waist, though you quickly realised this didn't apply enough pressure, so you rummaged in your bag while your hands were shaking with nerves and the cries of his distressed ikran did only so little to keep you calm.

You found another bag thag you had packed in case you'd find so many roots and flowers you needed a second pouch to carry it all. You ripped the fabric apart with your bare hands and wrapped it around the gash, pulling it as tight as you could with all your might.

Why were you doing all this? Why did it feel like the worst case scenario if he didn't make it? You didn’t know, something just seemed to tell you he was important.

You examined his body for more severe injuries, luckily you didn't find any. His bones didn't seem to be broken, only his ribs were probably cracked, a deep purple bruise forming under his chest and you found small bleeding cuts that littered his arms. You treated the biggest cuts you saw with the dapophet sap, disinfecting the area and speading up the healing process.

Then you carefully straddled his waist, not putting much of your weight on it, and inspected his face. His eye was swollen shut, the other had a cut underneath. You reached back to your bottle of sap, rubbing the sticky juice between your fingertips before applying it to his face as well.

Quaritchs eyes began to open, just a sliver, his vision frizzy at the edges, cloudy and blurry. He could make out a figure above him, blue, and feel something cold on his skin. He desperately tried to see clearer, to understand what you were muttering under your breath, but it was like your voice was echoing from underwater, so far away and quiet. He felt your weight on him, almost comforting, if it wasn’t for the burning sensation that spread from his side over his abdomen.

He strained his ears to hear you, his hand trying to claw at his waist as if he could remove what was causing him pain, but his arm dropped limp shortly after.

You caught the slight movement of his fingers and heard him groan in pain and stopped touching him with a gasp, retreating a bit further down his body, afraid he'd snap up in a second. You searched his eyes, a piercing yellow colour, his eyebrows furrowed while he tried desperately to get a grip on himself and see who was helping him. But he was too delirious, fading in and out of conciousness, the bloodloss and pain making it hard for him to grasp onto his sanity.

You stared at his face, the way his dark blue stripes curved over his cheekbones, the deep snarl in his nose and how his ears were fluttering. It was impossible to look away, you couldn't describe the feeling in your chest as you watched him with curiousity and...pity.

Only when he managed to turn his head and look directly up at you did you jump off him. You quickly gathered your belongings and packed your bag to leave no trace of your existence. The last thing he saw was how your blurry figure slipped back into the trees in a hurry, looking back at him just a second as if to assure yourself he would make it on his own. Then you were gone- and darkness consumed him again like he was hit in the head by a baseball bat.

This was a mistake.

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

The cut on your kuru beneath your braid had begun to scar, though your hair was thick enough to cover it up.

You were hunched over a flat slab of stone you had probed up on some dead tree bark just beside your hut. You were squatting to be easily able to reach all of the bowls you had carved, your fingers swirling in the paint before you pressed them to the canvas, the rough texture holding onto the pigment.

You weren't sure what you were going to paint today. Maybe some patterns, maybe another flower or animal. Whatever it was you were gonna paint, it needed more blue in it.

You reached into a pouch on your waist secured to a belt. It contained dry syekalin petals, the once vibrant blue colour dulled because of the lack of hydration. You hummed softly to yourself as you added them to a mortar, grounding them up in a fine powder with a pestle.

Your movements were rhythmic, almost reaching a sort of flow state, the animal fat you poured binding beautiful with the pigment and creating a smooth paint you could work with.

You couldn't help but zone out when you created artworks like this. It helped calm your mind when nothing else could, keep your hands busy and make the thoughts that you couldn't make sense of tangible. You could look at them in person, reflect on them easier. It was also a good stress management method, you could paint what troubled you and smash the stone slab afterwards, get the anger and frustration out of your system.

A few people of your clan passed by every now and then, children and their mothers, soldiers, but you paid them no mind as your head sunk into the peaceful mindset of art making.

You ran out of blue half way. Blue, blue, blue. More of that rich, deep, beautiful blue colour that drew you in, the one that seemed to be at the back of your mind constantly.

A curve here, some stripes there, a few freckled dots of white, a smear of black over the stone.

You took a short break to mix more pigments. Your eyes left your painting as you crushed more rocks, petals and clay into a paste and by the time you turned back, you nearly dropped your bowl.

The blue shape, which umistakeably resembled Quaritch, stared back at you. You were creeped out, though you had actively created it with your own hands. Your heart beat up to your throat, nervousness or something else, you couldn't tell.

It just came so natural to you and it scared you so bad you looked around to see if someone was spying on you.

You couldn't spot anyone, but that didn't mean Varang wouldn’t find out and scalp you. Well, technically she didn’t say you couldn't paint him, but you didn't want to take any risks.

You lifted the stone slab up high with both hands. Your gaze landed on his face one more time before you lifted it over your head with a snarl, growling as you brought it back down to destroy it before you were caught.

But before your painting could hit the ground and shatter, you stopped.

Your chest heaved as your trembling hands held the slab, your fingers gripping it so hard you thought the stone would crack. What were you doing? You couldn't bring yourself to break it and throw it away, you just couldn’t. You didn't know why, you didn't know what kept you from destroying it when you should.

It was embarrassing how he invaded your mind like this without reason, that he felt so deeply rooted in your soul that the thought of him wouldn't leave you alone.

His face was haunting, so beautifully haunting, that weird tone in his voice you could only describe as a drawl that sent shivers down your spine even if you merely thought about it. You wondered if all of the sky people spoke like that or if it was just him.

Your fingers trailed over his face that you painted, the chalky pigment flaking off a little under the brush of your fingertips. You would probably never get this close to him to do that, and you weren't even sure you wanted to.

You didn't know what to make of Quaritch, how you were supposed to assess him or estimate where he stood with the humans and your clan.

He was unlike anything you had ever known, and it terrified you as much as it was thrilling- as if taunting a flame before inevitablely getting burned.

You dipped your hand into some purple pigment, pressing it flat over his chest to leave a print, something you often did to sign your works. And despite the fact you should probably get rid of this, you stood up to carry it inside your hut.

You hid it on a shelf, turned it around so the blank side showed. You stepped back, your heart pulling in your chest. You sighed deeply, your ears dropping. The past few days had been tough for you, bringing up memories you thought you had long buried. When Vagang wasn't like...this. Evil, sadistic, manipulative and gruesome. When you two would play together, chasing atokirina seeds from the great mother Eywa around the trees.

Ah, Eywa. You hadn't heard that name in a while, not in an admiring way at least. You understood Varangs frustration with Eywa, she had left you all alone when you needed her most and your own faith and spirit was crushed.

But when you saved Quaritch that day, it felt like you had a reason to, as if something at the back of your mind whispered to you. Maybe it had been the great mother then, maybe she was starting to return to the sparse forest that was left for the mangkwan.

Though you still felt uneasy, as if you were at fault. Just how different would everything be if you didn’t save his life, or would nothing have changed at all?

"Great mother, show me where I am supposed to go" you whispered despite yourself.

The timing of the booming sound of something flying over your village was almost comical. The loud noise made you get out of your yurt, looking up at the sky and watching three large metal birds flying overhead.

Curious, you made your way to Varangs yurt where nearly the whole clan had gathered. The wind these sky people machines made while they landed nearly blew the beads out of your hair, watching how Quaritch and a few other soldiers slid down a few ropes.

The noise had brought Varang out of her hut as well, she seemed surprised at the many boxes Quaritch had delivered.

Her wrists flicked towards them, her own fighters instantly ripping off the sleek lids to reveal big stacks of gun, pistols, bombs and flamethrowers.

"Told ya I'd be back with more, Cupcake" Quaritchs voice boomed over the helicopters, a smug grin on his face as he approached, carrying a flamethrower that was quickly snatched by Varang. She turned the weapon in her hands in awe before pointing it into the crowd.

You scattered to the side to safety, your heart clenching painfully in your chest as Quaritch practically snuggled up behind Varang, holding her steady with his hands, these big, warm hands with the extra digit that facinated you so much- letting her fall against his broad chest as the force of the flamethrower nearly swept her off her feet.

Varangs laughed echoed, almost as innocent as a little girl, whole-heartedly and excited. She hadn't laughed like this since you were children.

It would have almost made you smile if it weren't for this weird feeling settling low in your stomach. If you didn’t know it any better, you would think you were jealous. You weren't. Not at all.

She held the weapon over her head, yipping proudly, showing off her newest possession to the clan, who quickly mirrored her celebrating sounds.

"Bring me the dead trees" Varang shouted to her soldiers "I will make a great fire, for a great alliance!" she howled, the crowd errupting with cheers. Wood was quickly gathered in a big circle and with a manic giggle, Varang fired her gun, the flames hissing as the tree barks cackled under the heat.

The fire burned high and relentless over the roofs of the huts. Varang jumped through the flames, the celebration now official. Carcasess and drugs were brought to feed on, drums echoing through the wasteland.

Music was made, weapons were thrown through the fire and catched by the person behind it, only to throw it back as if using the flames to bless it.

Quaritch watched Varang dance, her body moving fluidly in sync with the curved blades she played like instruments, like a ritual in nature. He grinned slightly as he observed her body, but as she dipped low to bring a clan member to their knees with her drug powder, he was able to look behind her.

There you stood, a few feet away from everyone, as if you weren't sure if you were allowed to join.

He was about to call out to you, his flower girl, but you were already gone, the only thing he saw being the flick of your tail before you vanished behind a yurt.

He didn't even think much about it before he decided to follow you. You had behaved this weirdly ever since the chaotic dinner a week ago. Varang had only spoken highly of you to him. You did a lot for the community, so it seemed, loyal, but you didn't move with the confidence of someone that was this important.

The voices of the celebration became quiter and duller the further Quaritch followed you through the maze that was the Mangwkan village. For a moment, he thought he had lost track of you, only to see your ashy blue back disappear in your own home, the beaded curtain wrapping around your form.

"Knock knock, everybody's decent?" the sudden voice behind you made you jump. You only had a moment of silence before Quaritch stood in your entrance, his head lowered and eyes covered by his hands. He peaked between his fingers to see if you were more naked than you already were, but you just stood there with a horrified expression.

He was about to uncover his face fully when you shoved him backwards "You should not be here!" you hissed, trying to get him out of your hut. What if she saw?

He gripped your waving hands tightly, turning you easily to push you back inside. You growled in frustration at how effortlessly he handled you, how strong this engineered body was.

"You shouldn’t be here either. Why'd you leave the party?" he asked you, almost interiogating, and you suddenly felt so bare beneath his firm gaze.

You sized him up, puffing a breath through your nose before you turned around, starting to clean up your cluttered workspace so you didn't have to look at him anymore. It was bad enough that he was here in the first place and that you were talking to him "I don't feel like celebrating violence"

Quaritch huffed "Ain't that what your little clan is all about? Thought you all were this badshit crazy-" you whipped around to face him before he could finish his sentence "i am not like that" you replied, your ears pinned to your head.

"I paint" you showed him the stone slabs that littered your home "I sew, I make tattoos, I gather food, I cut hair. I do everything to earn a place in this clan, but I do not kill"

Quaritch seemed to actually listen to you, to process what you had said without turning it down instantly, though his eyes were a lot more interested in you than your arts and crafts.

You sighed deeply, your shoulders slumbing as your fingers trailed over a woven piece of fabric you yet had to finish. "Though it's not like my work is something to appreciate. Varang rather sends her fighters to raid villages for armor or the skulls of other Na'vi she can hang above her bed" the mention of innocent people being scalped to present their head as a throphy, it made you physically recoil.

Something pulled at the depths of Quaritchs heart, seeing you like this. He had a ton of blood staining his hands, more than enough to cover for your pacifistic lifestyle. He wasn't someone who could back you up, as he hadn't thought about the innocent lives he took in the past either. But that was something that came with the job. You had to get numb to all the death and blood you would see, the gruesome images would bore into your head and torture you otherwise.

He opted for a different approach, his hand on his hip while he watched you pace "Then why stay?" he asked you then.

Your ears stood up and you stopped. Ever so softly, you turned your head to look at him. "Why stay?" Quaritch just nodded, urging you to go on. You opened your mouth as if to answer, but closed it soon after. You stepped closer to him, despite everything in your body screaming not to be in his space like this.

You looked up at him, his scent filling your nostrils. Damn, it almost made you forget what you were about to say. "It's home. This clan is my home. I love my clan, I love my people" you answered him truthfully, the glint of the silver squares hanging around his neck distracting you.

"I love Varang. She is...sister." you tried to explain "I do not betray or leave behind my sister" Varang was not your sister, but you had been close like you were. Years ago, and you missed that version of her more than anything.

He nodded in acknowledgment, a fond little smile stretching across his lips "You're very loyal" he stated, his finger twirling around one of your braids that had fallen in front of your eyes, these big eyes staring up at him as if he was something worth looking at, looking so familiar as if he had seen them gaze at him just like this before "And I admire loyalty"

He brushed the beads behind your ear, and it took everything in you not to lose yourself in his eyes, his voice and touch.

Your hand came up to catch his wrist, soft enough to give him the option of pulling away, but he didn't.

Your thumb inched over his pulse upward to his palm, softly pressing, his fingers falling apart instantly. You couldn't bring yourself to look him in the eyes now, despite feeling his gaze burning into you.

Quaritchs mouth opened, but he closed it before any sound came out, fearing he'd scare you away and destroy this moment.

You lifted your other hand to cradle his, turning it slowly, like you were holding something fragile, even as you felt the strenght in every finger you touched between your pointer and thumb, trailing from the knuckle up to his fingertip. You counted each finger with every pass.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

And then that one extra digit, five. You pulled at it gently, as if to check if he could actually feel and use that finger that seemed to serve no purpose to you.

You pulled harder, his finger bending sideways and he flinched in slight pain, but didn't pull away "I can feel that, sweetheart" he grimaced, and instead of muttering an apology, you whispered "Facinating. What does it do?"

He looked at you with a stupid smug grin, a chuckle bubbling up in his chest while you kept investigating his hand "What it does? Uh, not much. Guess you can pinky swear with it" he said dismissively, forgetting just how new and exciting all these terms were that he used.

His words made your ears turn towards him "Pinky swear? What is that?" you smiled softly as you asked, your eyes filled with childlike wonder and curiousity.

He stared at you for a moment, scanning your face to see if you were serious. You were, waiting patiently for an answer.

He sighed, he never thought he would have to explain what a pinky swear was. Lyle would laugh at him if he saw him right now. "A pinky swear is a promise, one you vow to keep. You can't break it" he explained then, obvious to the way you pressed your palm against his, your fingers stretching to try and cover his, as if it were second nature.

Your fingers fit neatly against his first four, but then there was the fifth, resting where there was no match for it.

His hand felt strong, secure and warm, though you couldn't really feel anything besides the fast pounding of your heart against your ribcage.

"What happens when you break it?" you pushed further, your voice barely above a whisper. You were so caught up in his eyes that your body moved on it's own, stepping impossibly closer to him, his thick belt nearly brushing the skin over your belly button.

Quaritchs eyes were half lidded as he looked down at you, your face beautifully illuminated by the faint fire that burned low in your yurt. His fingers curled and before you knew it, they slipped between yours, interlaced and grounding you in the moment.

You let him guide your joined hands downwards to stay next to you both, his biceps flexing as he pulled you so close you fell against the hard planes of his chest "They cut your pinky off" he growled in a playful manner, genuinely grinning at the giggle he was able to get from you. "Maybe that’s why you don't have any"

His tone was teasing, his lips exposing more and more teeth the further you laughed "I wouldn’t have any fingers left if that was true" you shot back, matching his energy. It was easy to forget that your conversation was actually forbidden to you this way. It felt so natural, being with him like this, as if you'd known him for a while.

Your hand slipped from his to cover your mouth, chuckles leaving you like they hadn't for a long time. "Flower girl actually got some humor, who would have thought" he kept the banter going, even after you turned away to saunter over to your bed, your back turned to him.

You looked over your shoulder "There is a lot you don't know about me"

To him, you sounded almost sultry, the imagine you painted doing only so little to stop that feeling simmering in his abdomen. Your slanted eyes, your naked back and the way you stood in front of this inviting nest of furs he knew was drowning in your scent- curse it all, he was just a man at the end of the day.

He coughed and forced his eyes away from your curves, the shape of your ass, and onto the ground. He may have been a total asshole, but he still had manners. Sort of.

You caught he sudden shift, the air quickly turning awkward between you. You turned to face him again, your fingers nervously playing with the hem of your loincloth.

Quaritch scratched the back of his neck "Well...was nice talkin' to you, flower girl. If you need me, I'll be back at the party"

It didn't sit right with you to let him go this easily. This might be the only time, the only moment you would talk like this, be close to each other like this, undisturbed. You couldn't give it up just yet. "Wait" you called out to him when his head was already ducking under your entrance.

He stopped in his tracks, cropped ears listening. "Can I..." you started, licking your lips. "I want to make a print. Of your...hand"

He straightened back up "My hand?" he mirrored the question. You nodded. "Yes. I like to stamp things onto stone, things I find interesting" you confessed, gesturing to a few slabs of stones that showed imprints of flowers and plants. He could only imagine how carefully you plucked the flower from its stem, coating it in paint and gently pressing it against your canvas. And he wanted to feel that soft touch on him, too, again.

"You're findin' me interesting, sweetheart?" ugh, you wanted to wipe that smug grin off his face! And then find a reason to make him smirk at you like that again. You blew him a rasberry, earning you an amused chuckle.

"As long as I'm not the only one who gets his hands dirty" he looked at you, one hip popped out to support his weight while he watched you kneeling, gatherinc some paint pots. "Deal" you agreed. By the time you turned on your knees to face him, he was already kneeling beside you, laying a blank slab of stone in front of you.

Shit. That was the painting- the portrait of him. He didn’t look like he had noticed it, god you hoped he didn't.

You kept a straight face as you rehydrated the cracked and dry red clay in your bowl with some water and animal fat, your hands moving with precision, something Quaritch could appreciate. He was skilled with weapons and combat, you were skilled in arts and crafts, still an honorable work.

Your hand wrapped around his wrist again, some part of Quaritch was relaxing when you did it. You dipped his hand into the liquid colour, swallowing softly as you pressed his palm flat against the stone. Excess paint dripped down, but you made sure to fit every finger snug on your canvas.

You put pressure on every digit, keeping him in place. He observed you then, not paying anything any mind but your face, the little micro expressions you made, the way the beads in your hair would sometimes cover your eyes.

He huffed softly "One thing I gotta ask" he began, you nodded briefly, a sign for him to continue "The red paint, its the colour of your clan, isn't it?"

Your hands stopped for a moment, you huffed a breath through your nose, your ears pinning to your head. "Why aren't you wearin' it?" you kinda had a feeling he would ask, though you had dreaded it just as much.

You ripped his hand away from the stone forcefully, showing him his red palm "This" your voice was firm, the paint running down his wrist like a wound "is the colour of blood" you leaned in closer, your nose curling into a snarl "I do not shed blood. Not when I don't have to. I will not be covering myself in it as if I am proud of it"

That was your last word. He had clearly made you angry, had hit a nerve when he asked you this.

You were growling and hissing when he gripped your underarms "Hey, hey, shhh" he shushed you, trying to make you stop fussing and listen to him. You settled down with a grunt, your eyes trained firmly on the ground, your chest heaving softly.

He searched for your eyes, ducking his head to look into them, even though you weren't looking at him. "You know, where I am from..." his hand gently opened yours, the one that was bawled into a fist "Red means passion, strength, determindation, courage" he dipped your fingers into green paint, the exact opposite of his red print, and pressed it to the stone right over his handprint "And let me tell you, it takes guts to go out there into the woods all alone. Almost got myself killed the first day. Felt like a rookie"

That actually made you smile "Like a baby" you threw in and he nodded, his grin defeated "Yeah, like a baby" he confirmed, his warm hand slowly slipping from yours after he had pressed your palm firmly into the rock.

"You can still wear the red, doesn’t always have to be the same reason for everyone" Quaritch looked at you as if he wanted to say more, as if he wanted to do more, but held himself back. You already had crossed so many rules and boundaries, what really mattered anymore?

He rinsed his hands in a bowl of water before straightening back up. "Gotta get going, sweetheart. Varang's probably already lookin' for me" he said, heading to your door.

The mention of her name made something heavy settle into your chest. You felt like you were the only two people in the world when you were shielded and protected by your hut. If he had kept talking with that soothing low voice of his, teaching you the way humans saw colours, you would have forgotten anything else. Most importantly that you weren't even allowed to speak to him. That, whatever you wanted these touches to be, was not the way he touched Varang.

You didn't even want to think about it.

He waved goodbye, throwing you a wink before he vanished behind the beaded curtain, leaving you alone on the cold floor of your yurt with nothing but his handprint serving as a reminder of what you yearned for,

but could never have.

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

Ain't this what we wanted all along?🤭

Finally some Quaritch and Reader quality time, there is more to come, tho ill go to sleep rn, happy reading!

the taglist is getting kinda long guys ugh😭

@lott1exxx @melvin333 @barnes70stark @somaaaaaaaaaa @gemimamola27 @natie335 @wolfiemarley @always-1960 @quirkylaugher @kiyotofish @only4thefics @simpfor141 @goddess-of-spring @morgananyx @randomfan218-blog @caliicela @teabeen @moon-trash1507 @hiimava11 @vitaminnzz @agaypurpletoaster @amiets2 @thatgirljas13 @frey-williams @snorklingfae @saltedcoffeescotch

She towered over him further, the tips of her fingers brushing his chin to angle his gaze up to her.

"You are alive because of me, Quaritch" she announced, watching his pupils swallow the yellow of his eyes whole now.

You gasped softly, bringing a hand to your mouth, your ears dropping to the side of your head. You knew what she was trying to do, yet it shocked you more than it should have.

His ears fluttered, Varangs words hanging heavy between them and causing turmoil to rise in his chest. He frowned ever so slightly, squinting up at her "Huh?" he asked bluntly, the drug messing with his tounge.

She left her seat on his thighs to turn away, stalking over to what looked like a pile of bones to him. Her tail lashed behind her, the movement catching his eyes. His head darted back and forth with every flick, like a cat getting ready to pounce. But before he could, she came crawling back.

She held a sturdy bone, a pattern carved on the outside. "This..." she started, popping off the lid on the bottle and pouring the liquid contents into her palm.

Quaritch hissed as she smeared it onto his pec, right where she had cut him moments ago, the medicine stinging in the gash. "...is dapophet sap. It has healing properties, we use it to treat wounds" she explained, her hand lingering longer against his skin than necessary "I used it on you."

The realisation hit him suddenly, it all seemed to make sense now. Varang had helped him, she was the blurry figure that had saved his life. Of course, it had been so obvious! As much as his knowledge went, Varang was the tsahik of her clan. Maybe not fully in the traditional sense, but that fact made it clear why she knew her way around plants and flowers.

Thats what the doctor back at bridgehead told him. Whoever helped you really wanted you to make it and they knew what they were doing

"Why?" was the only thing he could muster up in his state, the question that had been the most prominent on his mind the past week, that one question that had him stay up late at night, every night, because he longed to know, why him?

She grinned softly, knowing he was fully hooked to her now, enslaved, even if he wouldn’t realise it until it was too late.

Her hand brushed the side of his face and your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach. "I was not sure. But something was...drawing me to you. You felt important" she mused, lulling him further into her trap.

Her touch and words made him smile softly up at her, eyes shining with dreamy devotion. Varang leaned down, her breath fanning over his face while she smelled him "And now I know why. You will help me get what I want"

She settled back down in front of him, sealing the direhorse bone bottle again. "And what do you want?" his voice was low, might have even been suggestive, and it made a shiver run over your spine. Your tail went rigid in surpise at your own body reacting to his voice like this, that deep and alluring tone...you shook your head.

You had heard enough, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move. "I want fear. Respect. I want all the other clans to bow down before the Mangkwan, before me" she snarled, grasping his queue tightly to yank his face closer to hers "And you will bring me all the guns and sky people magic I want, yes?" her tone didn't leave any room for arguments as she sized him up, her eyes roaming over his face. But she didn’t find anything despite his smitten expression.

He nodded, completely enthralled by her presence "Yes, whatever you want you'll get, cupcake" he whispered, staring at her face without blinking. He owed her his life, the least he could do was to make the missus happy, right?

He mirrored her grin then, the drug finally starting to seep out of his system. When he stood up with her, he swayed, trying to stay upright, his head spinning.

You ducked away and held your breath as Varang stepped into your direction. For a moment, you feared for your kuru, for your life, tightly grabbing the braid and pressing it to your chest. You could feel your heart frantically beating in your chest, a terrified breath threatening to escape you.

But Varang stopped before she reached you, her back turned to you. "Stay for dinner, sky man" she spoke, not as an invitation or question, but as a fact. Quaritch stepped closer to her, back into her space, her hand coming up to slip a slender finger beneath the speaker comm around his neck. "You can even bring your friend. The one that killed my best fighter" the band snapped back against his neck.

That pulled a chuckle out of him "Sorry about that" he responded, though he didn't sound sorry at all.

Riku was dead? He had killed him? And Varang had still decided to make this deal with him? It worried you, fear creeping up in your chest as you realised just how little she actually cared, how easily replaceable you were.

You couldn't let her catch you. If she knew you had been listening, you didn't even have to try to appeal to her merciful side. You might as well just cut your own kuru at that point.

When you were sure both were focused on each other, talking about some pink-skin boy and the olo'eyktan of the omatikaya, you slipped between the woven matts and crawled under the beaded curtain at the entrace, trying to make as little noise as possible. Once you were outside, you quickly hurried away from the yurt, hoping no one saw you. Not that anyone really cared for you in the first place, but that also meant no one gave a damn about what would happen to you if they snitched your suspicious behavior to Varang.

You started to work on the leather hides again, the ones you had to abandon this morning, acting as if you hadn't heard anything you weren't supposef to, as if you had been sitting here for a while.

In reality, your heart was beating out of your chest. You were sweating, a lot. You hated keeping secrets from Varang, mostly because it wasn't long until she found out, and because what came after was never, in any sort of way, pleasent.

Your hands were shaking as you cut the leather and you hissed at yourself in frustration. Why couldn't you just act normal? Why were you so emotional in all the wrong ways? What was wrong with you? Even the kids in this god forsaken clan acted more aggressive than you did. You would get into a lot less trouble if you were just normal.

And what would happen with this Quaritch guy? Right now, it felt more like a mistake. Every moment that led up to this day. You should have let him rot in that forest, should have killed him with your own hands just to make sure. You knew he would bring your clan to the edge of extinction with his human weapons, fighting this human war.

You were aware how hostile Varang was. But you never anticipated she would actually want to enslave each and every village with the use of weapons, much less with sky people machinery, fighting a war that wasn't even hers.

Something that felt even worse than knowing this, was the way he looked at her. As if she was everything, a goddess. How his eyes grew soft when she told him she saved him- which wasn't even true! You did! You collected the sap, you decide to help him, made sure he was save, made sure he would heal, he should look at you with so much adoration and devotion!

What...what were you even thinking? You frowned deeply, swallowing thickly. You should not care how he looked at you or Varang or anyone.

You just wanted gratitude for your help once, yes. That was the reason. Nothing more, nothing less. At least you tried to tell yourself that. Truthfully, you had fantasized about him every day. Firstly because some part of you didn't want to forget his face, and secondly because the lonely nights got to you more than usual.

How was it your fault when you couldn't help but think about a possible romanticized reunion? When you thought about how his voice would sound saying your name, how he'd fall for you as if you were in a dream where everything was calculated and perfect, too good to be true. It was almost embarrassing.

You wondered if you had manifested something with your stupid, childish daydreaming.

You were so deep in thought that you almost stabbed the person that had suddenly appeared in front of you with your sharpened stone.

"Woah, buttercup. No need to get hostile" chuckled a voice. The man had human gear littering his body, like Quaritch, though his head was bald and he wore something across his face that concealed his eyes, your own reflection staring back at you.

You looked at the man dumbfounded. As you didn’t reply, he just bend down to look at your work, turning the leather between his fingers "That's some good work, gotta give it to ya. Made leather myself in a bootcamp once, but not this primitive" he grinned, as if he couldn't believe that you, a woman, was able to handle such a task.

You frowned and snatched the weird looking frame from his nose. He instantly yelled at you to give it back, lunging forward. Agitated, you sprang up from your kneeling position, your ears pinning against your head. Your face was pulled into a snarl and you hissed at the man, the sound aggressive and bordering on a growl, your tail lashing like a whip.

"Lyle, leave that lady alone. We wanna make a good impression, remember?"

That voice instantly made you lose your rigid stance, another shiver running down your back to the tip of your tail. Quaritch came up behind this guy named Lyle, who seemed to relax upon Quaritchs order as well, even though he seemed reluctant to.

You clutched the the material in both hands, straightening up as he approached. You could see his face much better now when the sun was highlighting it properly. His skin was rich blue, just like you remembered, his eyes a stunning shade of yellow and orange, just how they haunted you in your dreams, his bare upper body to die for.

He looked even better now than in your memory, and you wanted to scream upon admitting this to yourself. You wanted to slap yourself with the way your eyes roamed his broad shoulders and pecs, but you were able to snap out of it just in time.

He towered over you, just enough for you to have to lift your chin a bit to look him in the eyes. He grinned softly down at you "Excuse the corporal, forgot his manners for a second there" he said with a sigh, Lyle looking annoyed at you from behind Quaritchs shoulder.

Quaritchs gaze raked over you, how could he not? You looked a bit odd, if compared to the other members of your clan, surely unique. Your skin was covered in ash just like the rest, but your body paint lacked the signature red colour. Your skin was smooth all over, no raised tribal scars in sight. You had about as much hair on your head as Varang, though unlike her, your piercings and jewelry seemed to be only made out of animals bones. If he wouldn’t know any better, he would think you were some undercover spy from another village.

As he observed you, something like recognition flickered in his expression. It made your heart leap with hope, which was quickly crushed. "Hey...you're Varangs little garden fairy!" he announced with a grin, seemingly proud of his guess.

Disappointment settled deep. "Garden fairy?" you whispered the foreign term, not knowing exactly what he meant. He supported his stance by putting a hand on his hip, pointing a finger at you "Yeah, the flower girl. Going around and collecting plants" he crouched down to take a square piece of leather hide, inspecting it half heartedly "Seems like you're doing even more than that. Got ourselves a true handyman, i see"

Another one of these words you didn't understand the meaning off, but coming from him they sounded almost charming.

He straightened up with a groan, sounding older than he was, giving you another once over with an agape mouth, as if he just forgot what he was about to say. Then his eyes landed on Lyles glasses, which you were still holding on to.

Quaritch extended his hand out to you and you flinched slightly, looking back and forth between his palm and face. "I'm afraid the corporal needs his sunglasses back" he stated, waiting patiently for you to place them into his hold.

"Sunglasses" you muttered, the word feeling wrong on your tounge, and handed the plastic back over, watching him throw them over the Lyle.

Quaritch nodded at your adorable try to pronounce the word "Yeah, sunglasses" he mirrored, his hand disappearing into one of the many pockets on his pants to pull out another pair, similar to Lyle's. With a flick of his wirst the frame opened, and he placed them onto your head. You ducked away at first but soon later let him, your eyes never leaving his.

"For your eyes, protects them from the sun" he explained, giving the glasses a soft push, making them fall from your forehead down to your nose, your vision darkening.

By the time you got them off, the only thing you saw was him walking off with his friend or whoever he was, taking in the other work of soldiers and fighters. You were left standing there with the glasses he had more or less gifted you, thumb tracing the smooth surface and looking down into your reflection.

What did this all mean?

★

Dinner with the Mangwkan, if you could even call it that, was messy. Everyone sat around a big fire, but to Quaritch it looked like more or of a get-together where everyone was responsible for their own food.

Sometimes meat was shared between the soldiers, some ate theirs raw, others grilled it over the flame. Vegetables and fruits were sparse, only reserved for Varang.

Quaritch himself got a rather large portion, perks of being Varangs favourite knew plaything, even though the Tsahik was yet to attend the meal, and so were you.

You often arrived late to food gatherings, enjoying eating more when the majority of people had already had their fill and left the fireside. You already heard their growls and laughter in the distance, the light of the fire shining above the roofs of the huts.

You approached carefully, silently, trying not to draw too much attention to yourself.

Suddenly, someone yanked at your kuru, pulling you behind a yurt. You cried out from the pain stinging over your head, but were soon silenced by a hand covering your mouth.

Your braid was wrapped tightly around a blade, the sharp end pressing painfully through your hair and into the flesh of your kuru. Not enough to cut, though it wouldn’t take much.

Your ears were pinned to your head in panic, your nostrils flaring as you stared. Stared into her eyes.

Varangs gaze was piercing, her nose pulled into a snarl, growling your name "Did you seriously think I wouldn’t notice you eavesdropping? Do you think I am stupid?" she barked the question at you, but not letting you answer.

"This is my only chance at getting the respect I want, the respect I deserve" she kept going, her fingernails digging into your cheek "With his weapons, I will terrorize the other clans. And Eywa won't come to save them" she spat the name into your face, enjoying the fast beating of your heart.

Her head tilted then, her expression suddenly blank, unreadable, before she bared her teeth and jerked her hand, the blade cutting ever so slightly into the skin of your kuru.

A tear rolled down your cheek, but you didn't dare to make a sound. "And I'll be damned if let some pacifistic skxawng ruin my plan" she hissed. You flinched as she stepped closer, her breath fanning over your face, her tounge darting out to lick the salty remains of your distress, as if she could taste your pain in your tears. You shuddered at the contact.

"If you tell him the truth, if you dare to say as much as one word, your pretty little kuru will hang from my ceiling and you are going to be right next to it" she whispered into your ear, her voice oddly calm, but that never meant anything good with Varang.

"Did I make myself clear?" you nodded eagerly, humming in agreement against her hand. She released you with a forceful shove that sent you to your knees, and you instantly went to bundle your braid up in your arms.

Varang walked to stand beside you "Good. Though I think it would be best if you didn’t speak to him at all" she said while hauling you up to your feet by the arm and making you walk in front of her to the gathering as if nothing had happened, as if you both just accidentally arrived at dinner at the same time.

The clan cheered as Varang sat down in the circle, offering her a mat full of juicy grilled meat, vegetables and fruits, which she sank her teeth into soon after.

Quaritch had noticed you scavanging some scraps and left overs, shakily munching on small burnt pieces of meat. The sight made pity rise in his chest. You were the runt of the litter, so it seemed, despite being one of Varangs most trustworthy clan members.

You weren't far from him, so he decided to rip off a chunk of meat from his hexapede leg and offer it to you. He whistled to get your attention, your eyes trained on the ground before you.

The sound made your ears perk up and you looked to see Quaritch extending his hand out to you, the juices of the meat dripping over his fingers "For you, flower girl" he mouthed over the loud chatter of the others, but you averted your gaze as if looking at him had burned you.

He frowned as he watched you retreat, your crouching body disappearing behind a few soldiers and into the shadows without throwing him another look.

"Missy didn't like the glasses, huh" Lyle chuckled next to him, sucking his fingers clean.

Quaritch scanned the crowd for the smallest trace of you, but he never found your face again.

"Yeah, guess so..."

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

*Wipes sweat from brow* damn, that was a long one, and it's just 1am right now! A new record! You might notice that the chapter name and pics are different than the sneak peak. I just realised half way in that this didn't suit the tone of this chapter, but much more the mext one!

the taglist is getting kinda long guys ugh😭

You slipped over moss, ducked under low tree branches, jumped over stones, just trying to get away as quick as possible. Your thoughts were reeling and the realisation hit that you had just saved a complete stranger and a sky demon at that!

Varang would cut your kuru if she knew about this. Not even because the man you saved was one of the dreamwalkers, but because you helped. The Mangkwan didn't help. Everyone was responsible for their own life, especially outsiders. The fact that you wasted important medicine and potentional poison and drugs, if prepared right, just to save someone not even part of your clan was already bad. But you also didn't know how to keep the truth from Varang.

You were her most trusted gatherer, even a loyal friend if you were bold enough to consider yourself as such. You knew Varang ever since you were kids, witnessed how bitter she became after the tragic incident and how she denied that she poisoned her father and older sister when you two were teenagers to become the Tsahik of the clan.

You watched her kill everyone who wasn't useful, who didn't bow down before her. She became ruthless, evil, her morals twisting sickly with every day that passed.

She drugged her soldiers to not feel pain, manipulated flowers so they harmed instead of healed, used spiritual tattoos and connections to control and not to seek out eywa. She was your Tsahik, but not in the traditional sense.

You could have left the clan when you noticed her change, when you started to be repulsed by her actions. But you rather stayed than risk getting hunted down for life and be killed by her. You told her you wouldn’t support, but also wouldn’t stop her. You wouldn’t be in her way, you'd collect plants and materials for the clan, make art, mix body paints, tattoo and pierce the warriors, make yourself useful in some way, but you would not kill or torture other Na'vi. Not if you didn’t have to.

You still couldn't quite comprehent that she didn’t kill you that day. That she accepted your decision and let you do just that- be useful. Without shedding blood.

Right, useful. You stopped running, panting as you took a look into your bag. Now that you had used the leaves on the stranger, what was left of your harvest was more than disappointing. Nothing Varang would ever be satisfied with. You weren't necessarily scared of her and you would have liked to think there was some mutual respect between you. But still, Varang being in a bad mood was rather unpleasent and you really weren't in the mood to deal with that right now, not after this.

You looked around yourself with a sigh, putting a hand to your head in distress. You growled and paced through the bushes, angry with that man, angry with yourself, angry with absolutely everything.

You spent another hour harvesting roots, flowers, flint stones and even dug up some red clay near a riverside. Your hands were dirty and you were tired, sitting on the ground for a minute just to collect your thoughts and take a breather.

You looked up into the sky, the eclipse would happen soon, you should get going. Your limbs felt heavy and so did your chest.

You really, really didn't want to come home today, but Varang would already be suspicious if you arrived after dark. There was no way around it.

You stood up with a groan. Luckily you were just at the edge of the forest, only a few 100 metres until the trees grew sparse and thin and turned into coal and broken stems, the green scenery covered in stone, soot and sand, not one plant in sight.

You called out into the sky, the howl coming from deep in your chest. You waited patiently, your ears perking forward as you heard the flapping of strong wings and a shriek, your ikran landing in front of you. You smiled at her, saddled up and went into the air.

When you arrived at the ruins that were once your home tree, the sky was pitch black, but the fire illuminated your clans home.

Your ikran landed gracefully near Varangs yurt. You jumped off and patted her neck as a sign that she was free to fly to where ever she wanted and she took off with a scream, quickly disappearing into the night. You watched a few warriors ravish a pile of grilled meat, others were just sitting around the fire, drinking and chatting. In moments like these, your clan felt almost normal. Like it used to be.

You pushed the curtain of beads aside and stepped in, the hut being gently lit by a firepit inside. You didn't see Varang, but you knew she was there, like a heavy presence weighing on your chest.

Slowly, you settled down near the fire on the ground, dumping out your bag in front of you, sorting the different things you had collected in organized piles. You were about to roll out the clay into a thin sheet as a shadow danced over the heavily decorated walls. You didn't even have to look up to know who it was.

Varang emerged behind the flame, menicingly and careful, stepping closer to you. "You came back late" she noted, her tail lashing behind her. "Why is that?" she asked you then, her slim figure crouching around you, the braids in her hair clinking together with her fluid motions.

Without saying a word, she took a root you had brought, inspecting it while waiting for you to answer. "You know that resources are sparse, Varang" you explained to her, your voice oddly calm. "There is not much for me to find, even when being out there for so long. But I also didn't want to come back empty handed"

She hummed in acknowledgement of your words, but you couldn’t tell how much she believed you.

Technically, you weren't lying. It was hard to find the things she asked for, you just left out some... unimportant details.

You tried desperately to hide your shaking hands as you rolled the red clay into a thin sheet to dry it out near the fire, her presence circling you, but she seemed to be more interested in your harvest than yourself.

Varangs gaze fell on the empty dapophet leaves you had stacked in a pile. They had been cut clean through the middle. Well, most of them had. She noticed a few had jagged edges, as if you had mindlessly ripped them apart. She frowned softly, searching for the direhorse bone bottle on your gear.

Once she spotted it, she ripped it from your hips without asking, opened it and looked inside. The bottle was half full, the amount not matching up with the number of empty leaves you had brought with you.

"Where is the rest of the sap?" she asked you after a stretch of suffocating silence. You swallowed thickly, avoiding her gaze even after she invaded your personal space, something she often did when she was trying to intimidate. Your ears flickered downwards only for a moment before you stood up to reach for a granite mortar and pestle, she followed close behind you.

"I got caught on some thorns on the way back and decided to treat the cuts before they got infected" you lied through your teeth, turning back to kneel next to your harvest in hopes she would let go of it. To occupy your hands, you ground up a few purple roots in the bowl, straining the liquid into the fire before you. The flames hissed and shortly flickered in a faint pink-ish colour, a pleasent scent filling the air.

Varang took a deep breath, smelling your lie more than the fumes of the plants enveloping the air. And to your surpise, she didn’t push any further, allthough her gaze was lying heavy on the back of your head.

Your ears twitched as you heard her move behind you, the bones that made up parts of her jewelry dangling together with every step. You would have been content just procressing the plants and minerals you gathered to Varangs liking, as if you would ever be able to sleep now after what happened back at the forest, especially if you didn’t know if you just commited a huge mistake or if it didn’t mean anything at all.

You were so lost in thought that you didn't even realise you were staring blankly into the fireplace in front of you, not blinking, not looking away, your hands still in your lap. You stared into the fire as if it would give you answers if you just looked hard enough.

Varangs hand on your shoulder snapped you out of your haze and you jumped. "Sorry" you apologized quickly, bowing your head and getting back to dry the dapophet leaves near the clay sheet, but Varang grasped your wrist. She turned you to face her and for a split second you thought, this is it. You're fucked.

Her eyes are piercing into your very soul and you didn't dare move a muscle.

"You're tired. Go sleep. I don't need you here if you're not fully focused" she said firmly, releasing your wrist with a shove, while you released the nervous breath you had been holding. You nodded then, standing up and shedding the gear you always used for gathering and keeping it tucked under your arm.

You brushed the beaded curtain aside, contemplaiting if you should say something, anything, before you left, but you ultimately decided against it.

You made your way to your own little yurt, tucked further away from the main tents. You liked the privacy, the almost quiet nights. But sometimes you felt lonely, like an outsider, an outcast, like you didn't quite belong but also couldn't connect anywhere else.

Brushing aside the fabric curtains, you stepped into your hut, hanging away your gear and weapons, before falling face first into your nest of furs.

You tossed and turned on the soft blankets until you laid flat on your back, sighing deeply as the tension left your body now that it could rest. You stretched out on the bed until you heard your joins pop, your hands laying on your ribcage and playing with a few beads on your top while you stared at the ceiling.

Your limbs felt impossibly heavily, your eyelids desperately wanting to shut. But you couldn’t help the train of thought tunneling through your head now that you had nothing to do, nothing to take your mind off of things.

The memory of him flashed before your eyes before you could stop it. You growled in frustration. You tried to think of something else and not about his strange sky people attire, tried to push aside the deep, rich blue colour of his skin and you certainly didn't kept picturing the curve of his nose and mouth while they were pulled into a pained snarl.

He looked uncanny, but it had intrigued you to no end.

You turned on your side, huffing softly through your nose. You wondered if he had made it out alive, if he had woken up and flew home on his ikran. Where even was the home of a dreamwalker? You held your head in your hands, as if it would prevent him from invading your thoughts.

Maybe your efforts had been in vain, you came too late and now the forest claimed back his lifeless body. You cringed slightly at the possibility.

You liked to think that he made it, that lying to Varang wasn't unnecessary and maybe, just maybe, where ever he was now, he was looking up at the stars or stared at his ceiling, just like you.

And maybe, just maybe, he was thinking about weird woven clothes, ashy blue skin and a soot-painted nose hovering above him.

Just like you.

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

Damn anyone else so jealous of Varang in the movie😭 Miles why are you going around calling her cupcake, sugar and baby AND NOT ME!?? IN WHAT WORLD IS THIS FAIRRR💔 No srsly how am I supposed to cope, any tips?😔

Tiredly, you slipped out of bed, pushing yourself to function enough to get dressed properly. You headed out like you usually did, though for the past week others would have described your behavior as odd if they paid enough attention, which your clan rarely did.

You hopped over stray pieces of rubble, your jewelry clanking together with every step. You greeted a few kids and ducked just in time to not get hit by a spear they were playing with, continuing your way over to a hut near Varangs yurt. There you found a few large leather hides, which were draped over wooden sticks. You had scavanged the leather from two hexapedes the hunters brought in, scalping the animals before they were eaten.

You had started processing the leather a few days ago, your fingers sliding over the smooth texture, checking if the sheets had already dried up. You hummed, pleased to find out they were dry enough to now be crafted into clothing, armor, instruments and other items Varang could want.

The hide slid off the poles easily into your hands, and while you were cutting the material into smaller pieces with the sharp carved edge of a stone, a sense of dread overcame you.

Sure enough, a shadow soon loomed over you, menicingly. Your hands stilled. "What can I do for you, Riku?" you asked the so called strongest Mangwkan fighter, Varangs right hand. His expression was pulled into a snarl as he looked down at you, in every sense of the word. His stance was squared. He never let down his guard around anyone, not even you, even though you were the least likely person in this clan to start a fight. "The Tsahik is looking for you, Fnawe'tu" he spat, looking you over in mild disgust. You were used to it.

"Why?" you returned back to slicing through the animal skin and collecting it in a pile. The man above you huffed, his tail lashing in irritation "You ask Varang. Don't keep her waiting" and with that, he turned around and stomped away.

You sighed deeply as his presence finally left your space, partly because you were greatly annoyed with him, and because now you had to seek out Varang, even though you tried to avoid her eyes.

You left your work behind, brushed a braid that had fallen into your face behind your pierced ear and ducked under the beaded curtains that led to Varangs den. The heat from the fireplace washed over your face, though Varang didn't seem to be here.

You stalked further inside, the shadows flicking intimidatingly over the bones dangling from the ceiling. "Varang? You wished to see me?" you asked into the cluttered space, your tail curling around your leg absentmindedly.

She emerged behind woven tapestry stolen from another clan, her eyes glinting with excitement. She smiled at you. It was a little unsettling as she strutted over to you, but it made you smile back softly. "Come" she urged, grasping your hand and dragging you along. She squatted over a rolled out viperwolf hide filled with various paintings of plants and flowers. You had made this for her, always added more to the cloth when you found a new plant on one of your trips to the forest.

Her fingertips trailed over the rough bits of paint, tracing a path to one speciment in particular "You made this, yes" she said, more a statement than a question if you were honest, and tugged you down to her level by the wrist.

You nodded at her, swallowing softly as you watched her circle the plant. "So you know what this is?" Varang asked you then. You nodded a second time "That's a scorpion thistle. Highly poisonous" your answer made her grin, her sharp canines glinting in the firelight, her tail excitedly lashing behind her.

She rolled the leather back up, facing you "I want it. Bring it to me" your eyes widened at her request. You shook your head, a nervous laugh escaping you as you watched her shoulders square up and her eyes narrow. She certainly didn't like your reaction.

"Varang, it’s already hard finding anything as it is! How am I supposed to-" but she didn’t let you finish, instead shoving the roll of hide into your chest "Bring it to me!" she insisted, her tone demanding and bordering on a hiss.

You shrunk under her gaze, your ears pinning against your head. "Okay, okay. I will" you responded meekly, taking the leather hide from her. Her intimidating shadow casting over you seemed to settle down after you agreed, her lips stretching smoothly in an upturned line.

Her hand reached out, softly twirling a stray strand of hair around her fingers, the clay beads cold and smooth against her skin. "Good." she mused. You didn't flinch as she dragged the braid behind your ear.

Her hands didn't stop there though, you couldn’t help but hold eye contact with her. "That's why you are my most trusted gatherer" Varang continued, bringing your kuru forward to let it fall over your shoulder, still in her grasp. That's what made your eyes snap downward, watching her stroke your braid, almost fondly, with both hands.

"Aren't you?" her words were almost a purr, causing your ears to stand up and your eyes to search hers. You nodded wordlessly. That earned you a smirk "Very well then, off you go" she left your kuru alone, urging you to your feet.

You straightened back up, brushing over your loincloth and turning towards the beaded curtain with a kind of uncertainty that was almost laughable, like you weren't quite sure how you were going to do this.

You were about to duck under the pearls to go outside when Varang called after you "I want you back before the eclipse this time" you almost audibly sighed at her words, stopping in your steps. "Yes, Tsahik" you answered over your shoulder, a hint of bitterness in the way you used her title, then disappearing into the bright light that was the morning hours, the sun shining relentlessly over the badlands.

You wanted to punch the nearest wall as you went back to your yurt to get your gear and weapons. You weren't quite sure how you would manage today. You hadn't been to the forest since that day only a week ago. You were hoping you could prolong the visit back as long as possible, but Varangs demand didn't leave you with much of a choice.

You could only pray, to no one in particular, that you would be lucky to find at least one scorpian thistle admist the sparse flowers in the forest and not run into another sky person again.

★

"Tsahik!" Riku called agitated, pacing back and forth in front of Varangs yurt, a group of hunters pushing a captured intruder forward with their spears.

Quaritch restrained himself from growling at another warrior about to poke him, his head snapping forward at last as he watched Varang exit her tent, strutting over to him in fluid, calculated steps. Her eyes roamed his body, his torso now bare of the tank and tactical vest he wore to their first...encounter.

He pointed a finger to the large bag on the ground, which got pounced on by Varangs fighters, practically being ripped apart until it's contents fell to the ground with a metallic clank.

Guns. A lot of them.

Her piercing eyes held his gaze, her body showing clear interest in his offerings. She was surpised the sky man came back after her clan had captured him, toruk makto and his offsprings to sacrifice them to the fire.

But she wasn’t about to complain if he brought her weapons, willingly, like a dog loyal to its owner. Always bringing back the stick that was thrown.

She waved her hand dismissively to her warriors. In an instant, the tight bounds and poking spears left Quaritchs space, feeling like he could finally breath again without being on the verge of being executed.

"What is your name, sky man?" she asked, circling him like he was her prey, sort of he was, and brushed her kuru over her shoulder in a manner that seemed innocently enough, though he knew better.

"Miles Quaritch. Colonel Miles Quaritch" he answered as if he was standing in front of a drill sergeant.

Varang hummed and expected a flinch as she approached him with her queue, instead she got her best fighter sniped in front of her clan.

That was...something.

He seemed prepared, not stupid, yet he made the most dumbest decision of all- following Varang into her quarters, shielded from the protection his little sniper friend provided. If Varang would kill Quaritch in her tent now, there was nothing Lyle could do about it. He couldn't interfere, could only hope Quaritch knew what he was doing.

He had everything under control. Well, as much control as someone drugged by some weird truth powder could have.

The world was pulsing and reeling with colours around him, the fire feeling hotter and looking brighter than it was, sweat beading on his temple as the bloodied skull totems seemed to whisper and close in on him. His dialated pupils switched between looking at Varang, at the fire and the bones littering the walls, which might as well just be his. Did he have all his bones still?

He looked down at himself, reassuring himself that his skeleton was still fully intact, Varangs story about the chaos that struck her village years ago flying over his head.

Fire from the mountain, yeah, burned stuff. Eywa didn't come. Now Eywa is a big no no. We don't like Eywa. Got it...

He was zoned out, the drug thrumming in his blood slowly turning him into a giggly mess, completely obvious to the danger of Varang wielding a blade. His dumb little chuckle made her smirk, but not as much as his blood smearing on her teeth, the copper taste enveloping her tounge.

She straightened up, looking down at him with lidded eyes and holding her palm out to his face, the all seeing eye inked into her skin pulsing strongly "Why are you here?" she asked him.

He blinked. For a fraction he didn't say anything, like his tounge seemed too loose to properly move. "I'm here because of you... I need you"

Hearing his words amused Varang greatly and she sat back down, stroking his braid with a soft smile. "But I do not need you" she replied, biting her lip softly as she inspected his bare upper body, though she was more interested in his heart bleeding in her plam than anything else. The only fate that awaited one who seeked out Varang willingly.

Her eyes found a few raised cuts on his arms, almost pinkish in colour. Just freshly healed up. They matched the stitched up gash on his side. Her eyes continued to narrow as she observed him and his body.

While she did this, it gave him a moment to take her in, too. When she was this close, he could feel her breath fanning over his face, the sounds of the beads in her hair a distinctive sound echoing through his head. Just when he unfocused his eyes did the memory seemingly come to life.

His stare burned a hole into her face, her black her, that ashy blue nose covered in soot...he only snapped out of it when Varangs fingers brushed the elastic of the speaker comm around his neck, the band straining against his adams apple as it bopped heavily.

"Varang?" you called out to your Tsahik. You stepped inside her yurt, the beaded curtain flowing over your tired body as you held up a bowl full of scorpion thistle sap you had tediously collected. You shoved aside the woven tapestry.

"I bring the sap you wanted-"

You stopped dead in your tracks.

This couldn't be. This wasn't real, the universe was playing a trick on you. You had inhaled top much scorpion thistle gasses and were hallucinating. Surely this was all a big joke.

But as you looked between Varang, her thighs draped over his, his legs. There you were. Face to face.

With him.

The skull bowl in your hand almost dropped to the floor if you hadn't placed it on the table next to you, your eyes never leaving them. Your ears were glued to your head, your tail pin straight as you fought the urge to- what? To scream? To throw up? What were you supposed to do?

Varang looked back at you and so did the sky man. The sky man you saved. He had survived, so it appeared. Part of you was relieved, the other highly agitated. Why was he here? Was he captured, tortured? By the looks of it, he seemed to be Varangs new plaything. Something twisted in your gut at the thought.

"Very good" she praised you, even throwing you a small grin, her teeth still stained with Quaritchs blood.

Her eyes narrowed at you, observing your nervous stance, your hand fisting the fabric if your loincloth. Her sharp eyes darting between you and Quaritch. It was maddening, the way you could see she was puzzling something together in her head.

That's when it clicked.

Quaritchs scars, the missing sap from a week ago. You hadn't hurt yourself. You weren't gone until the eclipse because you were gathering plants. You had used it on him. That's why his blood tasted faintly sweet, the dapophet sap supporting his body to heal.

You had helped him. And now he was here.

Her expression was unreadable as she beckoned you over "I want you to meet Quaritch" she purred, overpronouncing the 'r' in his name. You swallowed thickly, your legs not letting you cross the room to get to them. You didn't feel safe to.

Quaritch. The name felt as foreign in your mind as it did on your tounge. He hadn't said anything yet, only staring at you with wide eyes. For a moment you feared, hoped, he would recognize you. But realisation never appeared in his eyes.

Varang pulled at his braid forcefully as he lost himself in staring into your very soul, a yelp sounding before he giggled stupidly. She had drugged him, you knew. He looked at her again, completely enarmoured.

Varang turned back to you. "Leave us. We have a lot to discuss" she ordered firmly, her tail giving one final lash to underlinde her command.

You nodded, bowing before you took your leave.Well, that’s what you had planned, anyway. You were already brushing aside the beaded curtain to exit when you stopped, your ears straining to hear their conversation. You hid behind the flaps of fabric, your heart racing in your chest as the fear of being cought clawed at your spine. But you stayed put, not making a sound.

Varang traced the freshly healed cuts on his skin, pressing harshly into one on his shoulder to hear him hiss in pain. "What happened to your arms, Sky man?" she asked, her tone low and smooth. She could tell he already hung to her every word, there wasn't much she had to do to wrap him around her finger completely.

"I crashed into the forest on my banshee. Took quite the hit" he explained, his eyes never leaving hers. "I had a nasty wound on my waist" Quaritch gestured to the stitched scar that stretched from his side over his abdomen.

"Pretty sure I blacked out for a while. But someone was helpin' me. Don't know who. Had a calming voice though, pretty hair."

Your breath hitched as he said this, your heart leaping into your throat. You desperately wanted to peek through the curtain to look at him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to.

Varang smiled, sickly, his braid slipping through her palm "And what would you do if you knew who saved you?" she asked him and it made your blood run cold. "Well, I would thank her. Saved my life for sure, I owe her one. I'd give her anything she wants"

Her ears perked up, her head tilting in interest "Anything?" Quaritch nodded.

"Anything."

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

technically, the Mangwkan do not speak english bc they never had an encounter with humans before. I am aware, but i still wanted to include some Na'vi words. Riku calls you 'coward' btw because, well, like we established, you don't fight. Or try not to.

I normally don't do a taglist but a lot of people wanted to be tagged so I tried my best!

@lott1exxx @melvin333 @barnes70stark @somaaaaaaaaaa @gemimamola27 @natie335 @wolfiemarley @always-1960 @quirkylaugher @kiyotofish @only4thefics

He felt a gentle nudge against his temple, his ikran that hadn’t left his side for even a second. He was about to push himself upright when a sharp pain errupted in his side, stinging all the way over his torso. It felt like something was lodged in his hip, but as he looked down to see, he noticed two tightly bound fabrics around his waist, pressing tightly onto his skin.

Someone had helped him, someone had tried to treat his wounds. The moment flashed in his mind, he wasn't sure if he had imagined your presence, as one may do if he was close to dying. But this suggested otherwise.

He peeled them back just slightly and saw how blood soaked the first piece of cloth was, the other less so. He grimaced in disgust and pain.

Quaritch took a deep breath, pain shooting over his ribs and his hand came up to lay over his chest, hissing at the unpleasant sensation. While he tried to find a way to breath so it wouldn’t hurt, he looked around himself as best as his swollen eye let him. "Hello?" he called into the forest, thinking that maybe you were still nearby. After all, he had no idea how long he had been out for. Maybe you didn't get far.

"Anybody there?" he tried again, but as the the only response he got were the howls of a few viperwolves, he decided it was time to get out of there.

He sighed, holding up a hand "Sweet girl, mind helping me a bit here?" he rasped to his ikran. She lowered her head so he could grasp around her neck. Once his grip was secure, she lifted him up from his half-sitting position on the ground. He grinded his teeth together at the pain of being moved, even though she was as careful as a 290 lbs creature could be.

He climbed weakly into the saddle, hoisting himself up with trembling arms before interlinking his braid. He searched for a hole in the canopy and launched back into the ash gray sky.

Once his ikran was flying steadily, he brought his finger up to his speaker comm around his neck. "Wainfleet" he coughed, static. "Corporal Wainfleet, can you hear me?" he asked again, more firm and commanding.

The comm cackled before finally, a voice. "Boss? That you?" Lyle cut through the static, sounding relieved to hear his Colonels voice. Quaritchs swallowed thickly "Yeah, Im not far from Hells Gate. Are you there?"

Lyle nodded on the other side of the line before answering "Yes Sir" the sound cutting off shortly after. "Took a hit, probably need stitches" Miles informed the other recom, who hummed in response "I'll get the medics ready for when you arrive, Sir" Lyle promised before the connection cut off entirely and Quaritch let his hand fall to his side where blood started slowly seeping through the two layered fabric.

He felt the woven piece of cloth beneath his fingertips, tracing over the pattern and trying to recall that moment, the one where he thought he was dying and might have just seen an angel. But you were real, he believed, the fabric around his wound a clear sign of your existence.

He didn’t just imagine you, it wasn’t him hallucinating from the bloodloss. And he didn't know why it mattered so much. Something itched inside him, something that wanted to know who you were and why you saved him.

He quickly shook his head to get these thoughts out of his head. He shouldn’t care. Simple as that.

★

After he landed on Bridgehead with his ikran, he was met with Lyle who had patiently waited for him. He looked beat up as well, but not nearly as bad as Quaritch.

"You look like shit, boss" Lyle allowed himself to note with a slight smirk, helping Quaritch limp inside the building where human doctors swarmed around him instantly. The Corporal followed Quaritch into the medbay, his gaze falling onto the woven pieces of fabric that soaked up Quaritchs blood. "Fancy little bandage you got there, Colonel. How come?"

Quaritch hissed in pain as he sat down on the oversized examination table, letting one of the doctors peel back the makeshift bandages, revealing an ugly gash.

"I blacked out. Woke up and it was there" he explained without detail, his words clipped and voice slightly irritated, letting Lyle know not to ask any more questions.

Another doctor examined the cloth under a microscope and scanned it with a small tablet "Facinating" she whispered then. "This cloth, it has traces of dapophet sap in it! Its a plant used by the Na'vi to sooth burned skin but also speed up the healing of cuts and other injuries." the doctor explained to the Colonel, walking around him while another medical professional prepared to disinfect and stitch his wound.

She took the tablet and scanned a cut on his arm, the device giving a comfirming 'ding' soon after. "You even have it on the cuts on your arms. Whoever helped you really wanted you to make it and they knew what they were doing" she said, smiling a teasing smile.

Her words made Quaritch ponder. He was so deep in thought, staring a hole into the floor and not even flinching as the needle and thread passed through his raw skin over and over again.

He was sent to his room with a stitched wound, treated cuts, a salve for his bruised eye and the ever nagging feeling of wanting to know. Wanting to know something that shouldn’t matter as much as it did, even though he didn't know why.

Quaritch didn't sleep well that night. Or the nights that followed, especially not after what had happened just yesterday. He had finally managed to capture Jake Sully, but knowing that Spider was out there with low oxygen, he couldn't just ignore that and deport Sully back to Bridgehead like intended.

He hadn't anticipated that he'd find Spider breathing the air without a mask and meet the weapon-crazy Tsahik of the so called mangkwan clan, who also held his son captive. And he certainly didn't think he'd flee with his enemy, talk to him like they were close friends down in a pub on earth just ranting about every day life and then make a run for it before they noticed he was gone.

All that in such a short amount of time and still, it didn’t help much with forgetting you. He was still pleagued by the thought of you, of these blurred bits his memory provided him each time he closed his eyes.

Right now, he paced across the concrete floor of his quarters, jaw locked tightly in a scowl, while his fingers were twitching at his sides like he was fighting the urge to punch the nearest wall.

He tried to distract himself from this by finding Spider, terrorizing villages in search of his boy, but no one could give him an answer despite Lyle burning a few of their huts. He had to think, he knew what his last resort was.

Quaritch should have made a plan, map out how things should go, but instead- that voice. The one inside his head that sounded layered and far away.

Your voice was driving him insane.

Soft and urgent, a low tone of the partially foreign Na'vi language, like you had been arguing with yourself as you worked over him, allthough he didn't know what exactly you said.

Were you talking to him? To yourself? To anyone in particular or no one at all?

“Damn it” he muttered under his breath, rubbing a hand over his face in defeat. He wanted to know what you had been mumbling in that moment, as if he would be able to find you again by recognizing your voice.

“Get it together, Colonel" he grunted to himself, sitting on the edge of his bed and trying to piece it all together. He closed his eyes tightly, his ears pinned to the side of his head as he forced himself to replay that moment.

A silhouette bending over him, unmistakeably a Na'vi, your long fingers pressing against his stomach to stop the bleeding. He recalled your breath being close to his ear, your hands seeming to shake as you decided to save his life. Quaritch remembered the warmth of your fingers brushing his cheek to check if he was still alive.

He remembered wanting to hold onto that sensation so badly that his half unconscious body tried to reach for you.

And just when the memory began to get clearer, your face appearing more defined- you were gone. Like a dream slipping through his fingers shortly before he woke up. That was the most infuriating part. He was so, so close to knowing what you looked like, to stack up the chances of finding you.

And if he would find you, what then? What would he do? Say thank you? Yeah, being genuienly grateful, that's him. He had no idea what would happen, what he would do, to what this would lead. It was pointless, shouldn't have been important. And yet he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Couldn’t shake you despite not even being properly able to picture you.

Quaritch stood up abruptly and slammed a fist into the metal table next to his bed. The sound cracked through the room like gunfire and his fist left a slight indend on the surface.

He hated this, hated that he couldn't control this situation, that everything seemed to go wrong. And in that moment, he made a decision.

"You're pathetic” he growled to himself in the empty room, grabbing his gear. “I’ll find her by accident or I won’t find her at all. Doesn’t matter.”

But it did matter. Somehow.

It mattered so much it had been clawing at him for weeks non stop, to the point where he asked himself why he acted like a teenager with a crush.

Quaritch shoved the thought down. Finding Spider, that's what was important right now. He strapped himself into his vest before kicking open his door to march over to Lyles quarters.

There was only one last resort.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

"Yes, Sa'nok" you whined, jumping from one foot to the other in hopes your mother would finally let you dart off with your soul friend Varang, the daughter of the olo'eyktan.

Your mother smiled at your eagerness, packing you a small bag with fruits and a knife- just in case. She knelt in front of you to shrug the pouch over your head "Be back before the eclipse" she warned you sternly and you nodded quickly, about to bolt out the hut high between the trees, but your mother cought you by the arm.

"And...! Keep yourself safe. I love you, ma'ite" she said, her voice wavering. As if this was the last time she'd tell you this. You threw yourself around her neck and squeezed her tightly "I love you too, sa'nu" you muttered against her neck before she sent you on your way with a kiss to your forehead.

You eagerly climbed down the tree to meet Varang, who had been patiently waiting for you.

Together, you ducked under woven tapestry, your giggles echoing, slipping between a group of hunters who brought in a hexapede for the clan and jumping over tree logs until you reached the outskirts of your village.

You and Varang loved to explore the forest with all it's animals and plants, dreaming of the day you would ride your first direhorse and maybe even tame your own ikran!

The two of you played catch, you hunting Varang through the underbush until both of you were out of breath. After a short break, you started a game of hide and seek, hiding under small cliffs, inside hollowed tree trunks and under large palm leaves that engulfed your body completely. Varang wouldn't have found you if you hadn't giggled as she approached.

The day was warm, carefree and filled with laughter. It was one of those days you would remember for the rest of your life, though in that moment you weren't thinking about the future. You were just here, right now, with your best friend, challenging each other to see who could climb up a tree faster.

You were just chasing a few prolemuris swinging through the canopy above you, yipping cheerfully, when you heard a shout in front of you, followed by the deep growl of a viperwolf.

"What was that?" you whispered to Varang in fear, her ears pointed towards the sound.

"You wanna dance? Let's dance" you heard a male voice rasp, though you couldn't understand a word. Curious, Varang and you inched closer, your hand digging into her arm as a sense of dread overcame you. But Varang pulled you along rather confidentaly until you were squished between bushes, leaves and ferns, hidden from view.

There in front of you was a sky person, circled by an agitated viperwolf. He had probably stepped into her nest, and now she was protecting her young.

You gasped, Varang quickly slapping a hand over your mouth to silence you.

"Is that...a sky person?" you whispered to Varang, though she didn’t answer you. She only stared at him with a frown, her tail rigid. You had heard some stories about them from your parents, though you had never actually seen one. Sometimes you thought they were just fairytales the clan had made up to scare you from straying too far from the safety of the village.

As an 8 year old, you had stopped believing in these stories. Now it seemed like they always had been true.

But as you watched him fight for his life- he was so...small. Smaller than you and Varang, helpless against the aggressive snarl of the viperwolf as she lunged forward to scratch him. When she did, he landed a hit with his little knife- it barely even scraped her skin and he was swept off his feet. He rolled over the moss, his leg getting caught on thorns, ripping the weird cloth on his legs and the pink skin underneath.

Something in you snapped and you barely made it out of your hiding spot before Varang was pulling you by your bag,  slamming you backwards into the grass. "He needs help!" you shrieked quietly.

"You will get killed!" she hissed and you pushed her off, sitting up in time to see the man get slashed across the face by the viperwolfs claws and was forcefully thrown into a tree.

The wounds were deep and gnarly, stretching from the side of his head down to his cheek. You almost vomitted when you saw his skull through the cuts, his pained cries echoing in your ears.

"See, he is going to die anyway!" she bared her teeth, grasping your arm and tugging on you. You looked back as the animal pounced and he gurgled out a scream "But-" you protested, but Varang yanked you back, her face set in determination. "Come!" Reluctantly, you followed, the sounds of his struggles fading behind you while guilt twisted in your gut. You had left him to die, just like that.

Varang dragged you away from the scene. You had already walked too far, you shouldn’t have been here in the first place. "Skxawng, stupid, stupid!" she scolded you, the eclipse already near.

"He needed help!" you shot back, stomping through the moss behind her.

Varang whipped around "You are too weak to help!" she growled and your face fell in shock, you almost stumbled over your feet. "You will never be a warrior and you will never tame an ikran! It will kill you before you do, just like the viperwolf would have!"

Every word cut deep like a knife. You had never seen her so angry, talking so bitterly and harsh, to the point tears dwelled up in your eyes. You averted your gaze to blink them away, letting her hurtful words linger in silence while you made your way back to your village. All you wanted was to bury yourself in your mothers arms and cry until you fell asleep, hoping that by morning, everything would be like it had been.

Nothing would ever be like it used to as you approached your clan, and instead of lively chatter and laughter- all you heard were blood curdling screams.

"Varang!" shouted the tsahik as she spotted you two.

Everything...everything was burning.

Flaming rocks pierced the canopy and rained down your village, destroying huts, tents, setting animals and people on fire. You watched kids screeching in pain as the fire engulfed them whole, desperate soldiers trying to pull out their friends from ashy ruins.

The trees surrounding you groaned under the heat before they fell, the large trunks crushing clan members.

You and Varang stood frozen in horror. You couldn't move, even as your names were called. "-you have to go, run, Varang-" but the tsahiks words were cut off by a huge, defeaning explosion-

"No!" you shrieked, shooting up on your bed from your little afternoon nap and rolling off, hitting the ground with a painful thud, craddling your head in your arms to shield yourself.

You were shaking, your pulse racing in your chest so quickly you thought you were gonna die.

Desperately trying to calm yourself, you grasped your songcord around your neck, rocking back and forth and whispering to yourself "It was just a dream, just a dream, only a dream" you whispered, allthough you had the urge to call out for your mommy, your daddy, though the pleas for their comfort would forever be left unanswered.

Just when you thought your heartrate returned back to normal, heavy gunshots outside drove you up the wall again.

Your shaking legs carried you outside, where you watched soldiers of your clan and Quaritchs team shoot targets with automatic guns, the bullets splintering the wood and clinking to the ground.

Quaritch was walking between them, barking orders, critiquing the stance of warriors, though he looked fondly at Varang who was shooting with a mad grin on her face, and it took everything in her to not just shoot anywhere but to focus solely on the target.

You stood there with your ears turned down and your tail rigid, frowning at every gunshot. You might have found Quaritch attractive while he strutted around like this in his strange but form fitting sky people attire, voice full of authority and pride, maybe even wished to be in Varangs place as he stood behind her to correct her hold on the gun- but this newfound kind of voilence he taught your clan wouldn't let you.

When an empty bullet rolled against your feet you hissed audibly, making Quaritch turn his head to the sound. When he saw you, his ears perked up. "There she is! Little flower came out to bloom" he smirked, leaving Varang to handle her weapon alone, to which she watched you like a predator.

"Wanna try it out?" he joked, holding up a pistol into your direction just to enjoy the way you snarled. What he missed was your voice- your mouth remained shut even when he teased you. Little did he know that Varangs looming presence caused your silence, as if you weren't allowed to talk unless she gave permission. "Speak when you are spoken to" she hissed behind Quaritchs shoulder, making your stomach twist into knots.

"You will have to bury me before I touch this" you replied, glaring at the weapon in his hand, standing your ground even as he came closer. You didn't know if he viewed you as helpless- or even incompetent. You weren't, and in your agitated state, the urge to prove it to him rose up in your chest. He looked down at you then, his eyes half lidded.

Oh, he looked so handsome with that smirk.

"Come on, you know I'm only messing with'ya " he grinned, packing away the gun into a holster around his slender hips, holding up his hands to show you he was unarmed.

You were about to answer him with a pissy remark, when suddenly-

BOOOOM!!

A warrior of your clan had tested out a rocket launcher, destroying nearby dead trees and huts.

You shrieked at the loud noise and fell to your knees, the explosion and flames reflecting in your large eyes.

"Find your mother, you will be safe with her. Daddy is going to come looking for you" your father promised you in a panic, shoving you away from the burning trees and you sobbed, tears blurring your vision. Your foot got caught on a root and you fell, twisting your ankle. You cried out in pain as you laid there, chaos breaking out around you. Your father screamed your name and the next thing you knew, you were hauled up and thrown aside, before a burning tree hut came crashing down, severing off your fathers arm and killing him instantly, blood splattering onto your face.*

You screamed, the memory playing in front of your eyes like no time had passed since that moment. The noises around you seemed far away, as if underwater, voices weaving into the one of your mother, your father, the shouts of agony from your people.

Quaritch knelt next to you, his hand firm on your shoulder and arm, slightly pulling you against him. "Hey, hey, you're okay, it's alright" he assured you, his thumb soothingly rubbing over your skin, trying to comfort with hands that had brought nothing but suffering.

But you were stiff as a rock, your eyes burning as you stared into nothingness, that day you lost everything replaying in your head like a broken record.

Your heart was hammering against your ribcage, your lungs feeling like they were about to collaps. You couldn't breath with Quaritch holding you. He was warm, too warm, too hot, burning you.

With a guttural roar, one you could compare to a thanator, you sunk your nails into his arm and ripped yourself away from him, scrambling up to your feet. Quaritch cursed loudly, holding his arm that had blood gushing all over and dripping to the ground. Varang sprang in front of him with a hiss, as if to make sure you wouldn't strike again.

When Quaritch looked your way, all he saw was a mindless beast, a savage, your pupils shrunk to only a small dot, teeth bared in defense.

You felt something warm on your fingertips and slowly looked down at yourself. Your nails were stained....red.

Blood. His blood. You watched it trickle down his forearm, fist clenched from the sting. Quaritchs eyes were glued to you, though he didn't seem upset or angry at what you had done, didn't even seem to care about the three claw marks that mimicked the one his human self had on his face, not that you were able to place his expression in your current state.

When you met his eyes then, yours had turned soft again, your lip trembling softly as if you wanted to say something- anything.

Quaritch brushed past Varang, holding his hands up softly as he carefully approached you as if you were an abused animal. Maybe he would have gotten close enough to calm you if it weren't for some idiots munching on a grenade, pulling out the pin and almost making Lyle piss his pants trying to throw it as far away as possible before it would blow up.

The explosion made you flinch away from Quaritch just as he was about to reach you and you took off running in panic, sprinting away like a startled direhorse that had lost it's sense of direction. You just had to get out of here. Now.

"Wait, sugar!" he called after you, snarling to himself. He turned to see the two young mangwkan warriors that Lyle had confiscated the rest of the grenades from. "Motherfucker, I swear to god-" he growled at the men yipped in fear, ducking their heads low in shame. They looked pathetic, stupid, and Quaritch wasn't in the mood to scold them like little kids.

He groaned, sighing deeply. He took out some gauze from one of the many pockets on his vest, ripping off a piece with his teeth.

"Mawey, Let me treat it-" Varang started, grasping his arm, but he ripped it out if her grip rather harshly "No, I gotta go after her" he muttered, wrapping himself up quickly, the bandage soaking with blood.

Varangs mouth dropped open in slight shock. She wasn't losing him to you...was she? You two had barely spoken, why did he feel the need to follow you, you, out of all people? She frowned and held him back by his biceps, softly squeezing to make him turn to look at her.

When he did, she changed her scowl to a seductive smile. "Leave her be, Quaritch" she purred, her middle and pointer finger walking up his strong arm to his shoulder "She is weak, she always has been." she mused, pressing herself against him, her tail stroking his leg.

"She is blinded by fear. We do not need her to fight this war" Varang almost growled, placing her palm over Quaritchs chest "To win, we need strong hearts. Like yours"

She grinned in satisfaction as Quaritch seemed to give in to her flattery, her alluring voice and her almost naked body moving against his turning his head to mush.

He sighed, turning his head into the direction you vanished in before looking back down to Varang with a small grin, which was only half real "Guess you're right, cupcake" he muttered, his ears fluttering as she brushed her finger over his jaw, the sensation let shivers run down his back like the day she saved him.

Still, something gnawed at the back of his mind. This wasn't right.

★

The rain was pounding harshly against your skin, but at least it had washed away the blood on your hands.

It was hard to see through the pouring rain, and the tears that blurred your vision while you sobbed, hugging yourself close to your ikrans neck. At least you were able to trust her to fly safely, even when night fell over you and you couldn't see a thing.

You didn't now where you were going, how far away from home you were, how long it had been since the tears streamed down your carried no emotional weight anymore, and seemed to fall just because.

You felt cold, but calmer than you had before. Empty and...lost. What had you done?

Quaritch himself wasn't too calm. He hadn't seen you the whole day, the bandage around his arm served as the only reminder you two had interacted today. He was looking forward to talking to you more ever since the quiet moment you shared in your yurt, not that he would ever admit that to anyone- or himself.

He could only imagine you sulking in your bed right this moment while he, Lyle and the rest of the clan feasted near the fire.

Lyle sucked his fingers clean "Ready to go, boss?" he mumbled, standing up from the fireside. It was already pitch black, it was time they headed back to bidgehead.

Quaritch grunted in agreement, but he didn't look like he was about to get up. "I just..." he started, then he filled his empty stone plate with some scraps of meat which had been left and yes, even some fruits. No one dared to say anything, as the clan almost viewed him as their olo'eyktan with how close he was to Varang, who treated him with equal respect, which was rare for her.

Lyle tilted his head as Quaritch said his good-byes, but walked in the opposite directions of their helicopters where their ikrans were waiting.

He followed him to your yurt, where he shook his head with a sigh as Quaritch went inside.

"Hey, sugar. I brought you some food. It ain't much, but I even smuggled out some fruits for ya-" his words died on his tongue as he looked up from crouching in the doorway and was met with a cold, dark hut that basked in an eery quietness.

Quaritchs brows furrowed and he looked around for any sign of you, but your bed was empty and the fire had not been lit since yesterday. You weren't here. You hadn't returned to the safety of your yurt this afternoon. You were gone.

He threw the plate onto a little makeshift table which, really, was just a boulder with a flat top, before darting to your bed and grasping a piece of fur you used as your pillow.

"Can we go now, sir?" Lyle asked annoyed as Quaritch returned, though he didn't pay attention to what the corporal had said.

Quaritch put his pointer finger and thumb between his lips and let out a sharp whistling tune, to which his ikran shrieked and landed next to him just moments later.

He interlinked his braid, holding up the cloth to her nostrils.She smelled it, her eyes dilating and her head shot up south with a shrill roar, flapping her wings eagerly. "Good girl" Quaritch praised her before he saddled up.

Lyle watched him with a confused expression "Boss- where are you going? Admore is already-" but Quaritch quickly soared into the sky, leaving Lyle to huff in frustration, while the Colonel had only one thing on his mind.

Finding You. Alive.

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

Im SO sorry for updating this fic so late! I am really trying my best here but damn my health really doesn't want me to keep going lmao😭

Anyway, here is the tagslist. I really hope you guys still want to read this

@lott1exxx @melvin333 @barnes70stark @somaaaaaaaaaa @gemimamola27 @natie335 @wolfiemarley @always-1960 @quirkylaugher @kiyotofish @only4thefics @simpfor141 @goddess-of-spring @morgananyx @randomfan218-blog @caliicela @teabeen @moon-trash1507 @hiimava11 @vitaminnzz @agaypurpletoaster @amiets2 @thatgirljas13 @frey-williams @snorklingfae @saltedcoffeescotch @chaotickittenanchor @tsukiko26 @elizadj08 @cwberus @taylor-munson @r4vished @paledemonstorm @elifhearty @saibaxoxo @that-jay @stargirl432 @always-1960 @vampiremiguewecstacy @caliicela @qrts-only