#junebugsjakesullyevent

Author's Note: this took me ages to complete !! will i ever be able to write something short ever again? it was supposed to be a quick final submission to @junebugonjupiter's Jake Sully Event that ended over a week ago… oops ! i hope you all enjoy this labor of love !

prompts: 21. Your ex and Jake don't like each other and kind of 23. Everyone assumes you and Jake are dating even though you’re not (yet)

thank you, June, for your constant support and understanding and for making me a better writer !! i had doubts about this fic but you always encouraged me 🥹 you are the best twosin ever !

Na'vi to English Translations: Uniltìranyu: dreamwalker Tutan txe'lanluke: heartless man Nantang: viperwolves Velek: Surrender, give up Kehe: no Fwäkì ke fwefwi: Mantis doesn’t whistle Yayotsyìp: little bird Kä: go Kelku: home/house Wiya: expression of warning or frustration Iknimaya: Stairway to Heaven, a rite of passage in which Na'vi hunters capture and bond with an ikran Uniltaron: The Dream Hunt, a rite of passage in which Na'vi seek their spirit animal

The bioluminescence of the forest whipped by you in streaks of light as the drum of pa’li hooves beating against the ground filled the air. The steady sound resonated through your bones with each gallop and the cool of the night rushed over your skin like water. The smell of early spring filled your senses as the strength and sureness of the creature beneath you overtook your own testy emotions. 

Stroking the neck of your Pa’li, you urged him to quickly follow the group of hunters that had set out at Neytiri’s scout report. Night had fallen, but she had run back to alert her father and the other warriors that a uniltìranyu (dreamwalker) was in the forest and that Eywa had stopped her from taking action against him. A murmur had passed through the crowds of people gathering for the evening meal as Neytiri’s betrothed spoke loudly of his wish to leave the demon in the forest to die. 

However, at the behest of the Tsahik, he was forced to lead the charge of hunters to capture the human. He rode out just ahead of Tsu’tey, whom you respected greatly. Lek’ann by contrast, was an insulting sight you wished never to be subjected to ever again. You usually did your best to avoid him, but your eyes lingered on the back of his head as you followed. You scoffed at the sight of the colored beads you had given him adorning his braided hair. The nerve of the tutan txe'lanluke (heartless man).   

The beads and the many other gifts you had exchanged with him had been a constant reminder of your foolishness. In your despair, you had fled into the forest one night and burned them all, watching as months of promises turned to ash. Though it was you who had broken the courtship, the sting of his betrayal was still fresh. You had been so naive. Only Eywa knew why such a thing could pass and only Eywa could bring you through. You knew that she would, and so you shook off the wave of self-pity lest you fall behind, hoping your unease would not affect your sturdy direhorse.

Jakesully was not hard to miss. You saw him for the first time that night, waving a fiery branch at the many nantang that slunk in the shadows. With the press of your heel and your internal command, you rode directly toward a viperwolf as it crouched in preparation to pounce, ready to strike the human from behind. 

Your mount’s imposing body cut through the predator’s path and it shirked away. Jake whipped around and his eyes searched frantically in the dark until they landed on you just as the hunters surrounded him. “Oh shit,” he said, slowly holding up his five-fingered hands and the remaining nantang fled the scene.  

“Velek (surrender), uniltìranyu!” Lek’ann spoke and threatened Jake in his puffed up way that you once found handsome. A pointless display of dominance over a man who did not understand a single word spoken. His voice became noise as your eyes fixed on the victim, who began laughing in disbelief. His clothes were ripped and hair untamed but his eyes were sharp and attentive. There were no traces of fear in them. 

“Damnit,” Jake muttered to himself as Tsu’tey bound his hands and pushed him along. You rode beside him as others raced ahead. “Shit. Grace, you’re never gonna believe this.”

Jake was walked into Hometree like a beast led to slaughter. Eytukan awaited his arrival, standing fiercely on the dais at the foot of the spiral and Mo’at came down with bold steps just behind him. You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of compassion for Jake as he stood as a spectacle among the people. 

After her inspection of him, Mo'at’s voice rang out, saying, “Who among the warriors would teach him the Na’vi way?”

The crowd bristled. With no response, Mo’at posed the question again. You looked around and saw a range of hesitance and opposition in the faces of your brothers and sisters. It was the almost purple hue of Lek’ann’s face as it contorted in rage that spurred you to volunteer. 

“I will,” you said, stepping forward and raising your bow, heart loud in your ears. You fixed your eyes on Mo’at, whose gaze flicked between you and Jake as she considered the pairing.

“It has been decided,” the Tsahik nodded and turned to Jake. “Learn well, Jakesully, then we will see if your insanity can be cured.” 

“Kehe!” Lek’ann shouted, the muscles around his neck pulling tautly. “Tsahik! You should not trust her with a dreamwalker.” 

Your heart sank as he looked at you with incredulity and disgust. You feared he would approach you, but he quickly trailed after Mo’at and Eytukan, speaking with them urgently. Your grip on the arc of your bow loosened. You hated the feeling that weighed in your chest, it twisted your heart and made it hard. The opposite of love was not hate, and you prayed to Eywa that one day you would feel nothing for Lek’ann. That you would find respite, and be free, oh, great Mother, please. 

“Hey, uh, thank you,” Jake’s voice came suddenly from your side, almost making you jump. You looked up quickly to see that his head was tilted as he regarded you. He smiled and lifted a hand toward you in a strange gesture. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Jake.” 

“Y/n,” you nodded, eyeing his palm. When nothing happened, Jake clasped his hands together rather awkwardly. In the meantime you had begun to inspect his tattered clothes again and you made up your mind. “Please, follow me.”

You offered him a polite smile before you started up the spiral, leading Jake to the next level of Hometree. Just below, Lek’ann pleaded loudly with Mo’at. His grating voice traveling upwards after you: 

“Tsahik, if I may speak, we must deal with the demon swiftly. He is a danger to us all. You must cast him out. He is a mockery to the Na’vi way…” 

“What’s that guy’s problem?” Jake muttered, his shoulder bumping into yours as he leaned down.

“Do not mind him. Much of his words hold no real substance,” you advised, shaking your head and moving so your shoulders could not touch again. “Fwäkì ke fwefwi (Mantis doesn’t whistle).” 

“Mind translating that?” Jake asked, eyes round. 

Lek’ann’s voice grew smaller as you walked, but you still heard, “You know what they are capable of. Think of your daughter… Have we not suffered enough? Y/n is weak in spirit, extremely impressionable, she cannot…”

Speaking loudly to overpower Lek’ann in your own ears, you explained as the hollow in your chest deepened, “Do not expect someone to do something that is not in their inherent nature.” 

Jake nodded, but he looked displeased. “He just said your name,” he noted, “I might not know what he’s saying but I sure can make out an insult.”

“He is insulting us both. Do not worry about me,” you requested, trying to focus on the man in front of you and not the one below. “Worry about you.” 

Seeing Jake’s mouth open you quickly continued before he could protest, “Come, you must change out of your human clothes, Jakesully.” 

He held concern in his eyes, you did not know why. His mouth twisted down before a thought passed and the corners lifted up again. “You can just call me Jake.” 

“You have much to learn, Jake,” you attempted, mimicking his foreign inflection. “We must prove Lek’ann wrong.” 

“Oorah.” Whatever that sound had meant, Jake looked determined.  

The rest of the night passed in a blur, especially as you considered the reality of your decision. Eywa had placed the fate of this skyperson, the enemy, in your hands. The events of the day and the words spoken about you replayed in your mind as Jake settled in the hammock beside yours. You hoped he could not hear you cry. 

—

Spring had warmed Pandora and arrays of new growth were scattered across the forest in bursts of color. The distraction Jake’s training provided and the changing of the seasons were good for your soul. He learned quickly when he was not distracted, but even then, you could not be mad. The look of wonder on his face always made you smile. 

Today, like the many days before, Jake stood before you. His hair was braided away from his face in a way that suited his sharp, square features. You thought he looked quite Na’vi, though the hair on his furrowed brow gave him away. 

You pressed a hand against Jake’s abdomen, hoping to remind him to engage the muscles there as he drew his bow. Instead, he stiffened and his breath stuttered along with the movement. 

“Try again,” you encouraged softly, tapping against his core. “Use your breath. Speed will come, focus on the motion.” 

“Got it,” Jake said, a little breathlessly. Stepping back, you watched as he lifted his arms and pulled back on the bowstring. It pleased you to see your father’s bow in use again so many years after his passing. You were admiring it fondly when your ears perked toward sounds of movement behind you. 

You pretended not to notice, but you knew it was Lek’ann who prowled like a territorial animal. You had inadvertently invited his attention and invoked his wrath by taking on Jake as your pupil. He had been keeping an eye on you both, always hovering just nearby, like he had nothing better to do. Unless he decided to be intrusive, he was easy to ignore by keeping your gaze fixed on Jake. You did just that and prayed he would not disturb you today, but knew it was too late when Jake’s arms dropped and his ears pressed back. Jake drew himself up to his full height and you followed his gaze over your shoulder.  

“Give up, dreamwalker,” Lek’ann spit in his usual unpleasant manner, though his English words were choppy. He stalked closer as you turned fully, crossing your arms. “It is no use. Even small beasts of the forest will show no mercy to an unskilled warrior such as you. Return to your people.” 

“So you do speak English,” Jake observed flatly.  

Lek’ann glared at him and switched to Na’vi to address you. “There is no point, y/n. What are you doing this for? He does not belong here, you know it is true. You are smarter than this.”

Your brow rose in disbelief. “Do not–”

“Tsu’tey, Peyral, and many others agree with me,” he interrupted, gesturing to his chest with his hands.  

“And Neytiri? What does your betrothed think?” you bit back, your words dripping with venom. 

His jaw tightened and he looked away just briefly. “It does not matter what she thinks.” 

“Yes, it does,” you objected, lifting a hand to the sky. “Eywa gave her a sign, revealing her favor. It is your efforts to change her will that are in vain. Tsahik was very clear.”  

“Then Eywa must be mistaken.” 

You gasped, “Lek’ann!” 

Lek’ann stepped closer and his hand came to rest on your upper arm. His touch was warm and familiar and your resolve began to crumble. His voice softened, “Yayotsyìp, please—“

The sound of that name from his lips made you recoil. You remembered all the ways he had spoken it before. Often with laughter, with reverence, with sincerity and with what you were so sure was love. Your flesh might rot where his hand rested, but it was the term of endearment that made your blood boil. 

Jake’s hiss came from beside you as he stepped forward with his teeth bared. It was a frightful sound that snapped you out of your preoccupation as Lek’ann flinched backward, his hand withdrawing with him. Lek’ann’s eyes were full of surprise and indignation, but he quickly retaliated with a hiss of his own.

The men glared at each other, hackles raised, as you tried to gather yourself, blinking hard. The emotion that knotted your stomach rose in your chest and threatened to choke you. 

“Leave us, Lek’ann,” you demanded, more strongly than you felt.

“But–“

“Go!” you shrieked, throwing your body forward.

Lek’ann did not budge and Jake repeated your command in Na’vi, “Kä!” 

A sour mix of disbelief and defeat painted Lek’ann’s face as he regarded you both for a moment before retreating. Jake’s shoulders were tense until Lek’ann disappeared into the trees. 

“Yeah, that’s right,” Jake muttered, swinging back around to you. 

You deflated as all the strength in your body vanished, swaying on your feet. Your limbs were as heavy as boulders and you did not know whether to scream, or cry, or even laugh. 

“What would happen if I punched him?” Jake asked, squeezing his hand into a fist.   

You took a deep breath. “Big trouble.”

“Who does he think he is?” Jake scoffed, glancing in the direction of Lek’ann’s departure. 

“He is next in line to be clan leader,” you explained numbly, moving to pick up the bow Jake had set down. 

Jake eyed you thoughtfully, “There’s somethin’ else.” 

“I do not know what you speak of,” you tried to dismiss.   

He leveled a knowing look at you. “I wasn’t born yesterday. Yah-yow-tsip? What does that mean?” 

You winced and sighed, looking to the sky where the trees swayed in the breeze. “Little bird,” it pained you to confess. “You are right. He was once very dear to me.”

“What happened?” he asked, carefully moving closer to you.

You avoided his intent gaze and you traced the ridges and lines of the bow’s carved wood with your finger. Growing up you had stared at it where it hung in your family’s kelku, often wishing for your father’s strength, protection and wisdom in times of need. Would Lek’ann have respected your father enough to respect you? Could you have been spared heartbreak and humiliation? You would never know and nothing good came from imagining otherwise. 

“He pursued me,” you began, smiling wryly. “Courted me for many rotations. I was certain we would…” You paused, the word too intimate to say, and swallowed before you continued, “All the while, he had been promised to another woman.” 

Jake inhaled sharply through his nose and when you looked up, you could tell he was working very hard to control his expression. His jaw moved, clenching tightly to hide a grimace. 

“He knew this while I did not. We could not continue once I discovered the truth…That is what happened,” you concluded, trying to sound unaffected. You had never recounted the story aloud, not even to your closest friend, and your ears burned in shame. 

“That’s what happened,” Jake repeated quietly to himself in disbelief, hands closing and opening repeatedly. “What a piece of work.” 

He looked away and took a breath before nodding back toward you. “We’ve got a lot of words in English to describe a guy like that,” he shook his head, scowling, but he spoke softly when he added, “Thanks for tellin’ me.”

You nodded, pursing your lips. “It is maybe good that you know. Lek’ann does not give up so easily. He will be back.”

“Still a no on the punching? I’d be happy to,” Jake offered, and you couldn’t tell if he was joking. You didn’t think he was. 

“Still no, despite your honorable intentions.” You straightened, took another deep breath and held the bow out to him. “Shall we resume?”

“Are you up for it?” Jake countered as he took the weapon. He held your gaze until you shook your head and deflated again. 

“No, I am sorry,” you sighed. 

“I think a walk’ll do us some good,” Jake suggested. 

You nodded. A walk sounded nice, but you really wanted to ride. Or fly. It was a beautiful day to fly. It would help clear your head, and you would not be neglecting Jake’s training if you took him with you.

“This way, Jake,” you declared, gesturing with the tilt of your head. “There is someone I want you to meet.” 

You began your trek back to Hometree, reinvigorated by the thought of your ikran and introducing her to your pupil. Jake kept in step with you even though you knew his stride was greater than yours. His presence was comforting, the sound of each of his steps reminding you that you weren’t alone. You were glad Jake was with you to face Lek’ann, even if he was the reason for the unwanted attention. It felt good to have someone stand up for you, to be strong when you couldn’t. 

You took in the sight of his side profile for a moment before saying, “It was very good, by the way. Very natural.” 

“What was?” Jake turned to you with his head cocked to the side. 

You looked up at him and hissed playfully. 

His brow lifted with a laugh. “Did you see the way he jumped?” 

“Yes.” You smiled. “I did.”

—

The breeze was a welcome relief from the humidity that clung to your skin, it would rain soon but not quite yet. From so high up, the view of your beloved forest extended endlessly in each direction. You could almost make out the Ayram alusìng (floating mountains) which had made that particular tree your favorite spot when you found it all those years ago. 

There were still trees that towered over the one you were perched on and you smiled, admiring Hometree from afar and thanking Eywa for such a beautiful and strong dwelling. Finally peering down, you watched as Jake attempted to climb up the tree after you and laughed as he struggled, expressing his frustrations in grunts of effort and his new favorite word “wiya”. Your father’s bow was slung across his chest as he used his arms to pull himself up each branch. 

“He is slow,” a voice came from beside you. “He makes many missteps.” 

Your head snapped up toward the sound. “Lek’ann,” you sighed deeply, finding him leaning in the shadows against the trunk of the tree. The sight of Lek’ann’s face and the sound of his voice was an assault to your senses, now more irritating than heartbreaking. You should have known he would find you here. You had brought him in the early, rose-colored days of your courtship when you were excited to share parts of your life with him. The unwanted memory of how he had held you in his arms, just where he stood now, accentuated the emotional distance that lingered in the physical space that stretched between you. 

You knew he had waited until the rare moment you were alone to strike and you were growing tired of his persistence. Lek’ann was a ghost of your past you couldn’t seem to shake, who continued to torment you.  

“This has lasted long enough,Yayotsyìp,” Lek’ann said, speaking gently like he used to, but his tricks would not fool you anymore. “Putting the clan at risk to enact your revenge on me is rash and irresponsible.” He stopped in front of you and lifted his hand, brushing the back of his fingers against your cheek. “You have proven your point to me. End this foolish venture.” 

You tore your head away from his touch. “I am not seeking revenge,” you insisted, off-put by his feigned tenderness. “This is no longer about what transpired between us.” 

You would never be the girl that fell for his manipulation again. The bitterness and resentment you carried for Lek’ann had begun eating you alive. But Eywa provided, unexpectedly and in her own timing. It was easy to forget all your troubles when you were with Jake. Your obligation to him melted into delight in his company. He forced you to be present and see the forest through his eyes, pulling you up out of the dark valley of your past. You felt your shell of shame and sorrow melting away as you ran with Jake through the forest, laughed over his discovery of Na’vi delicacies, and guided his hands that held knife and bow. 

In your newfound reality, you saw a glimpse of what life could be without the pain of Lek’ann’s betrayal like a yoke upon your neck. Experiencing such a change made you realize how much power he had over you, power that he did not deserve. You knew there was only one way to rid him of it forever. Releasing Lek’ann from your unforgiveness would be to release yourself from his hold, even if he still lingered like a bad taste in your mouth. 

A wave of courage filled you now, even as his eyes narrowed and he took another step toward you. “I know you volunteered to spite me,” he accused. 

“You are right,” you admitted, ignoring the cocky glint in his eye. His accusation was somewhat true, at least in the moment you answered Mo’at’s call many weeks ago. Yet, you were beginning to see Eywa’s hand upon it all. “I did it because you think I am weak and have wronged me greatly, but Eywa has given me the strength to forgive you. I wish for all bitterness, malice, anger and slander to be put away from us.”

Lek’ann’s expression soured and he scoffed, pointing a finger at you. “You have wronged me, y/n,” he bit out. “Remember, you chose to break our courtship. You endanger our people with your naivete. You have caused enough trouble, it is clear you need me to fix your mistakes.” 

“You know that is not true,” you defended, incredulity threatening to shatter your calm. “I do not need you. There is nothing to fix!”

Lek’ann opened his mouth to speak but he quickly clenched his jaw shut and his brow lowered. He regarded you as if he had never seen you and his speechlessness made you pause. 

“Please, Lek’ann,” you said, reigning in your exasperation. “If you ever felt anything real for me, let us walk freely of each other, in peace. Do not seek me out. Do not interfere in my life any longer.”

His shock morphed into anger and he inhaled sharply, but you did not cower. 

“And leave Jake alone. Your prejudice only gives him reason to turn against us.”

“Do you hear yourself, Yayotsyìp?” 

“Stop that. I am no longer your yayotsyìp,” you ordered before your courage could run out and he sputtered. Waves of his fury seemed to roll off of him, boiling up from under his skin. “I will not argue with you anymore.” You offered a tight lipped smile that made his eye twitch before saying, “Goodbye.” 

He called after you as you hopped down to the branch below and swung to the next. Lek’ann would surely bother you again, but your burst of courage gave you confidence. Lek’ann may pose a threat to Jake’s training, but he was no real threat to you, not anymore. Your smile grew wider as you lowered to the next branch, feeling like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Just at that moment, Jake’s hands reached up and grasped the wood. 

Crouching, you leaned over to meet his face with a grin. 

“Woah,” he breathed in surprise, eyes wide. “Hi.” 

“Hi,” you replied, taking in the way his hair stuck to his wrinkled forehead. “I have changed my mind, we will climb another tree.”

“What?” Jake huffed, eyes widening and breathing hard. He let his arms drop. “We’re going back down?” 

“Yes,” you said as you looped your arms under the branch and flipped down, landing just beside him. You laughed as he deflated, shoulders slumping.  

He caught his breath and bent over, his hands on his knees. “What’s got you smiling like that?” 

“It is a beautiful day,” you answered, reaching out and tugging gently on one of his braids. His lips stretched into a smile and you regarded him fondly for a time before he straightened up. “Let us not waste it.” 

You began your descent, jumping down to the next branch and looked back to see Jake do the same. Though his footing was unsteady, he copied your movements perfectly.  

“Wait,” Jake said before you could continue and you paused. He looked up the tree before tilting his head to the side. “Thought I heard you talking to someone up there. Everything okay?” 

You nodded. Everything was okay, and for the first time in a very long time, you believed it. 

—

“Y/n!” Jake practically shouted from across the room, waving and making his way through clusters of people settled around the communal area. The room buzzed with chatter and the body of Hometree diffused the sun as it poured in, beams of light illuminating the space in a dreamlike haze. The sunlight reflected off the droplets of water that still clung to the ends of his hair. 

Ignoring the teasing smile on your friend Serunga'’s lips, you put down the leather in your hands and stood from your spot among the other weavers to wave back. Your hair was damp too, and flowed unstyled over your shoulders. A wash in the river had been much needed after Jake fell into mud earlier in the day. You might have avoided a similar fate if you had outrun him, but he was too quick and his arms crushed you into his mud-covered chest as you screeched in protest. 

As you wondered what had taken Jake so long to return, two children ran into his path and he paused. Looking down, his mouth moved in response to something they had said. The little ones then held out their hands, displaying their digits, and Jake did the same. You heard their squeals of wonder as their tails swished in excitement. Jake laughed as they compared their fingers with his. 

He regarded them so fondly as they darted off that a warmth spread in your chest. He shook his head and resumed his walk toward you, grinning when he found you were watching. At one point in time you might have looked away, but the feeling in your chest swelled under his gaze and a smile formed on your lips in return.

“Ma’Jake,” you greeted when he stopped in front of you, one hand hidden behind his back.

“I have something for you,” he said, skipping formalities in his excitement he took your hand between his and placed something in it. 

Jake pulled away to reveal a river stone as big as your palm, made round and smooth with its constant movement. The sedimentary layers that striped the stone glittered and the colors almost danced in the sunlight. You wondered, as you rubbed the surface beneath your fingers, if all the tumbling tribulations you faced would make you polished one day too. You looked up at the man who had carried the river stone back to Hometree to give to you. He was pleased, you could tell by his smile. 

You would have to find a special spot to place the stone among your belongings. The rack that held your things was becoming crowded with everything Jake had been giving you. Mostly small things, like strings of flowers or the vibrant feather he found while training the day before. However, sometimes his gifts surprised you. He had carved some beads for you out of a beautiful, rich wood and though they weren’t uniform in shape, you treasured them. You knew they must have taken him much patience to complete. The bracelet you had made with them hung around your wrist even when you slept. 

Yet, nothing was more surprising than hearing from the women you weaved with that Jake sometimes consulted their wisdom. Their knowing smiles as they giggled among themselves made your cheeks burn, though some did express their disapproval of the matter. You had firmly dismissed it all, but you could feel their watchful eyes on you now as you spoke with Jake and received another gift. 

“What is this called in Na’vi?” you asked, holding up your stone. “It is a difficult word for Skypeople.”

Jake scowled, his beautiful smile gone in an instant. “Does everything have to be a lesson?”

“Yes, because I am your teacher,” you squinted teasingly at him, but he was unamused. “Will you not try?” The look he gave you was so dry you gave in with a laugh. “Tskxe.”

“Do you like the… ts-kay?” Jake asked, butchering the word in a way you’ve never heard before. 

The eager look on his face returned as he waited for your reply and you smiled widely. “Your priorities are out of order.”

“But do you?”

“Yes,” you finally answered, running your finger over its surface once more. “It is beautiful. Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome,” he replied, nodding and looking very satisfied. “What are you working on?” he asked, gesturing down at the ground where you had been sitting. 

“None of your business,” you answered quickly, trying to push your basket behind you with your foot. You had forgotten all about what you had been working on before his arrival, and you tried to hide your panic.    

You felt in your spirit that he was almost ready, that he would undertake the iknimaya and Uniltaron soon. Eywa had been so faithful and you wanted to make something to mark the achievement. Jake had no family nor a beloved one here to do so and he deserved something that was truly his that he could wear proudly. Leather strips and small stones you had chosen for an armband and matching necklace sat there for Jake to see if he looked. If he saw now, the surprise would be ruined.

Jake’s eyes flicked to the ground again before focusing on your face. “That makes me think it is my business.”

“It is not,” you denied, feigning a calmness you didn’t feel. “There is nothing for you to see.”   

Jake smirked down at you, stepping closer. Your heart beat wildly like the wings of an ikran, but you refused to be moved and stood your ground. With another step, he came so close that his chest almost grazed yours. You tilted your chin up to see his face.  

“You say you're my teacher, but is that all you are?” His voice was low and his eyes dropped, half-lidded to meet yours.

“No,” you answered with the little strength you could muster and his brow lifted. You swallowed. “We are also friends.” 

“Friends…” He said almost like he was tasting the word. He nodded before concluding, “I can work with that.” 

You felt dazed as you carried your basket up to your hammock, toiling over when the nearness of Jake started feeling so different. After agreeing with him to meet for the evening meal, you gathered your things and parted ways, heart still pounding. 

Though your prayers were being answered with more and more Na'vi warming up to him the longer he lived among you, Jake seemed only to have eyes for you. You thought at first that he was simply a good student, hardworking and strong, spending most of each day with you to learn. He rarely left your side. The silly way he spoke, the way he made you laugh, and his thoughtful actions made you forget that he was free to go where he pleased. 

You couldn’t deny that he filled your empty cup and saw you in ways nobody ever had. The thought of what it might mean made your heart twist with nerves and swell with a bone-deep longing. You could never forget how his hands grasped your waist as he sat behind you on your ikran, the weightless feeling having almost nothing to do with flying. You shook your head to clear it, but stopped short with a startled “oh!” as someone came into your path. 

Looking up filled you with displeasure.  

“I must speak with you.” Lek’ann grabbed your wrist before you could react. Moving quickly, his other hand pressed against your back as he ushered you to a quiet corner of the room. “What is going on between you and Jakesully?” He asked severely, eyes piercing. “Do you not feel shame, Yayotsyìp?” 

“Do not call me that,” you hissed, trying to shake his hand from your arm, but his grip tightened. 

“Go to the Olo’eyktan at once and ask for Jake to be removed from your responsibility,” he demanded.

“Enough, Lek’ann,” you said firmly. “You spew nonsense. Leave me alone.” 

You attempted to push past him but he held you in place. “You must!”  

“I will do no such thing,” you stated, twisting free from his grip. “Eywa has put him into my care. Open your eyes, Le’kann. Jake is not the demon you make him out to be.” 

He exhaled impatiently. “My eyes are open, they see the truth. They see that there is more than care in your eyes as you gaze upon the intruder,” he accused and your eyes widened. “Tell me! What are your feelings?”

“My feelings are of no concern to you,” you said, regretting having ever looked upon the unsavory man before you with care. 

“Can you not see how he corrupts you? I knew this would happen,” he fumed, the beads on his braids mocking you as they swung with his intensity. “For your own good, cut this tie.”

“For my own good?” You scoffed. “Why is it that you suddenly care about me, Lek’ann?”

“It is not sudden, Yayotsyìp,” Lek’ann insisted, reaching a hand up to cup your cheek. “Do as I say.” 

“You are a thorn in my side,” you spat, pushing his hand away and his nostrils flared. He gripped your basket as you tried again to leave. Looking down into it lit his eyes with burning fury. 

“What is this? Is this for him?” He asked, ripping the basket from your hold and pulling out the half-finished armband. He almost laughed in deranged disbelief. “You are shameless! End this courtship at once!” 

“Courtship?” You sputtered, stunned as you grasped for the armband. “Lek’ann, give it back!”

“A Skyperson and Na’vi pairing is an abomination,” Lek’ann snarled, holding your things out of reach. “You have brought disgrace upon yourself. Eywa will surely turn her back on you, if she hasn’t already.”  

“Do not use Eywa for your personal gain!” Your voice shook and raised to a shout. “We are not courting, but I would easily choose a Skyperson like Jake over a despicable Na’vi like you!” 

He threw the basket to the ground and you gasped as its contents scattered. “Foolish, wanton woman! Are you so desperate for love that you would accept the affections of their kind?” 

“You are cruel and heartless!” You screamed, tears pricking your eyes as his words reopened wounds of heartbreak you thought long since healed. “How you deceived Olo’eyktan and Tsahik, I do not know!”   

Lek’ann seethed, watching as you stooped down to pick up the materials, desperately chasing the stones as they rolled in different directions. His leg swung back and you anticipated its trajectory, but even before you could snatch the basket to your chest, he faltered. 

You looked up to see Jake as he pushed through the crowd of onlookers that had gathered, drawn by the shouting. His eyes scanned the scene before locking on you. His expression darkened and Lek’ann drew back as Jake advanced with powerful steps. Though you were relieved to see him, your stomach dropped, sobbing as your hands shook, hastily hiding the rest of the basket’s contents inside of it.     

“Hey, you okay?” Jake asked urgently, crouching beside you. His brow furrowed with concern as tears poured down your cheeks. “You hurt?”

“I am not hurt…I will be okay,” you assured weakly, curling over your basket and squeezing it to your shuddering chest. 

“What happened?”

“He thinks we are courting and does not approve,” you explained softly. “Jake, it is best if we leave.”

Jake glanced up at Lek’ann and hesitated, before laying a hand on your shoulder. He shook his head, saying, “No. He’s done enough damage. You go, I’ll catch up." 

“Jake, please,” you begged, heart sinking lower. You grasped his hand as he straightened up, turning toward Lek’ann who lowered into a fighting stance, hissing unbecomingly. “Do not add fire to fire. He is not worth the trouble.” 

“But you are,” he said, looking at you from over his shoulder and squeezing your fingers. “Go.” The softness of his voice was underscored with a sternness you had never heard from Jake. You knew from the set of his shoulders that any effort to convince him otherwise would be in vain. “Someone’s gotta put him in his place.”

“Jake-,” you attempted and panic filled your hollow chest like a swarm of hellfire wasps as his hand slipped from yours. 

“I got this,” he reassured with a nod, turning fully to engage Lek’ann. “Hear me, Lek’ann,” he began and the hand that had held yours gestured back to you. “Leave this woman alone.” 

“Who are you to speak for her? Your kind holds no authority here,” Lek’ann spat, ears pressing back. “Demons who prey on the weak.” 

They spoke but you barely heard as arrows of dread pierced into you upon realizing that Lek’ann still held Jake’s armband. He crushed it within his fist and it felt like he crushed your heart in its place.

“I defend what’s mine,” Jake stated, taking a step forward. 

“And I, mine,” Lek’ann growled and you gasped as he tossed Jake’s armband on the floor beneath him. He drew his knife from its sheath that rested on the small of his back. “Y/n has turned her back against her people. You are the cause.”

Jake scoffed, “You really want to do this?”

“You Skypeople bring only pain and devastation,” Lek’ann accused.

Blood pounded into your ears as your eyes trailed after the armband by Lek’ann’s feet. You searched frantically for it as your view was interrupted by Jake and Lek’ann’s movements. It rolled under Lek’ann’s sidestep and a rush of violent desperation moved your legs forward to save it. 

But a hand slid onto your shoulder and another gripped your arm to stop you. Looking back you saw Serunga' who turned you away from the fight.

“What are you doing?” she asked in a loud whisper, eyes frantic. 

“You had your chance,” Jake’s voice came from behind you.

“The armband,” you cried, trying to shake out of her grasp.

“Leave it!” Serunga' urged and she pulled you with all her strength. Your feet stumbled as she pushed through the crowd of people. The room began to spin around you in a mess of limbs, shocked faces, Jake, Lek’ann, Serunga' and all of their voices combined into one cacophonous song.  

“I'm gonna show her how a real man treats his woman. She'll forget all about your sorry ass. Don't speak to her again," Jake said with finality but his words were overshadowed by Lek’ann’s shrill battle cry. You turned at the sound just as he lunged toward Jake. 

“Kehe! Jake!” you yelled over your shoulder as Serunga' ushered you up the spiral, watching as yells filled the air and other hunters attempted to intervene. 

“Come. Jakesully will be okay,” Serunga' assured, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and squeezing. “Trust that you have taught him well.” 

She led you to the next landing and sat you on the floor, plopping herself beside you. You knew her words were true, but your heart still raced with worry. Serunga' regarded you with her kind eyes and shifted to sit behind you, taking your hair into her hands. You shook with fresh tears as she began braiding. 

“Ma’ Y/n?” Serunga' gently inquired after a moment, brushing through a section of your hair with her fingers. She waited until you hummed in response to continue. “Did you hear what Jakesully said to Lek’ann just as we left?”

You shook your head in answer. “He had said many things. They both did.”  

Lek’ann’s words stung you deeply but the grief you felt over the loss of the armband you had been working so tirelessly on was immense, even if irrational. You wiped your eyes and began picking through the basket that sat in your lap with a frown, finding the river stone nestled among the other materials. You cradled it and smoothed a hand over it, praying that its giver was not hurt. 

“But there was one very important thing.” You heard the excitement in Serunga'’s voice and your brow furrowed. You twisted toward her and saw she was smiling coyly. 

“What was it?” you asked, unsure that there was anything to be excited about. 

“He called you his woman!” 

Your tired heart picked up in your chest and your eyes widened.

“You are surprised?” Serunga' giggled. “ We were all so certain you were already courting, even when you denied it. It was bound to happen, y/n. Though you may not speak of love with Jakesully, both of your actions overflow with it. He will surely ask you soon and you will no doubt say yes. Of this I am certain. Some will disapprove, of course, but I think he is quite handsome for a dreamwalker. I know you think this too.” 

Heat rushed to your face as she chattered away and resumed her work on your hair. His woman, Jake’s woman. Had he truly said that? How long had Jake felt this way? How long had you returned his feelings before confronting them today? Deep down you had known and you saw the signs that there was something more, something new and beautiful, and unlike anything you’d known. But were you ready for another courtship? Would it last? Would Jake really stay here for the rest of his life to be with you? Your mind reeled with questions and possibilities, your heart aching with the same longing from earlier for the future you might have with Jake. 

You and Serunga' were still sitting on the floor tying leather pieces into bundles and counting stones when Jake appeared. Your hands froze and your breath caught in your throat, scanning him for injury. Color was high in his cheeks and sweat glistened on his brow, but otherwise he looked perfectly fine. Relief flooded through you and you pushed off the ground. 

Jake smiled triumphantly when he spotted you coming toward him and you almost ran the rest of the way. You threw your arms around him and he caught you with a huff, squeezing you close. One of his hands moved up your back to cradle your head.  

“Thank you, Great Mother,” you breathed, closing your eyes and finding peace in the sound of his heart beating. 

“You don’t have to worry about Lek’ann anymore,” he spoke into your hair. 

“Do not say his name,” you requested. “You ruin the moment.” 

Jake’s laugh rumbled in his chest and he squeezed you impossibly closer, lifting you so your toes only brushed the ground.    

“Thank you, Jake,” you added softly.  

“Anytime.” 

All the worry and fear that had wound up so tightly within you melted away in the warmth of his embrace. He had held you before, but never like this. He was sturdy and strong like a fortress, enveloping you in the feeling of home, one that you would return to again and again. You were filled with gratitude that the blood that rushed through his veins remained unspilled. Jake’s breath tickled your ear when a thought suddenly crossed your mind. 

“Did you punch him?” you murmured curiously against his skin. 

“Yup,” he replied, resting his cheek on the top of your head. 

“Jake….” You tried to sound disappointed though you were secretly very pleased. You lifted your head and pulled back just slightly to see his face. Jake’s smile was unapologetic, eyes crinkling at the corners. 

“I only got one swing in before things got out of hand with everyone trying to stop us,” he said, looking a little disappointed. “Someone got Eytukan and it wrapped up pretty quickly after that.” 

Your brow shot up at the mention of the Olo'eyktan. “Then what happened?” 

“We got a good talking to,” Jake explained, lifting a shoulder in a half shrug. “Nothing I can’t handle. Eytukan let me go after some of the people there backed me up. They saw the whole thing and heard what Lek’ann said to you. He’s in a load of trouble.” 

You nodded solemnly, wondering what would become of Lek’ann. Such defensive behavior would not merit exile, but you knew deception would not be tolerated. Eytukan would finally see who Lek’ann was and finally put an end to his machinations. 

“And I think this is yours,” Jake added, bringing up a hand to reveal his armband. 

You gasped and took it from him, checking over the integrity of the interlaced leather until you were sure it had endured the rough handling. Overjoyed, you found there was minimal damage, nothing you couldn’t mend.  

“Is it still none of my business?” he asked, watching you intently as his hands shifted to rest at the curve of your waist. 

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” you lamented, holding the accessory against your chest. 

“Then I never saw it,” Jake declared with a nod and you beamed up at him.  

He smiled back at you with so much affection in his gaze that you could have cried. You felt a sureness in your heart, as it exploded with gratitude and love, that Jake would always be there for you. To fight for you, to comfort you, to hold you, and not just as a pupil nor just a friend. All of your questions and doubts were allayed by the look in his golden eyes. He would stand beside you for all your days if you would have him. And you would.  

“Jake,” you said, a bit shyly, eyes dipping away before lifting up again. You shifted your hands from your chest to rest on his. “Now would be a good time to ask to court me.” 

“Ask? Baby, I thought I was this whole time.”

Part Two

You woke the next morning with sunlight streaming through the kelku entrance and Jake sitting beside you, looking like he hadn't slept at all.

"Hey," you said, your voice still rough. Your head throbbed dully, but the sharp pain from yesterday had faded. "You look terrible."

He managed a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Thanks. How are you feeling?"

"Better." You sat up slowly, testing your balance. Everything seemed to work properly. "Mo'at said I hit my head pretty hard. I don't really remember the collapse clearly."

Something flickered across his face—pain, maybe, or fear—but it was gone before you could identify it.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "You scared the hell out of me."

You reached out and squeezed his hand, the gesture automatic and friendly. "I'm okay, Jake. Really. Thanks for staying with me."

His fingers tightened around yours for just a moment, and you thought you saw something desperate in his eyes. But then he let go and stood, putting distance between you.

"I should let Mo'at know you're awake," he said, and left before you could respond.

You stared after him, confused by the abruptness. Jake had always been... well, Jake. Your friend. Intense and focused and sometimes awkward, but never cold. Never distant like that.

Maybe he was just worried. You'd nearly died, after all. That would shake anyone.

You pushed the thought aside and focused on getting to your feet. You had things to do, and lying around feeling sorry for yourself wasn't going to help anyone.

Jake made it outside before he had to stop and lean against a tree, breathing hard.

She'd touched him. Casual and friendly, the way she might touch anyone. The way she'd touch Tsu'tey or Neytiri or any other friend.

Not the way she'd touched him two days ago, when she'd pulled him close and kissed him and told him she was ready to stop hiding.

He'd known it would be like this. Mo'at had warned him. But knowing and experiencing were two very different things.

She didn't remember. She genuinely didn't remember. It wasn't just confusion or fog—the entire relationship had been erased from her mind. She looked at him and saw a friend. Nothing more.

"Jake?"

He looked up to find Neytiri watching him, concern clear on her face.

"Is she awake?" Neytiri asked. "Mo'at said she would recover, but—"

"She's awake," Jake said. "She's fine. Just... doesn't remember the collapse very clearly."

Neytiri's ears flicked forward. "That is normal with head injuries. The memories may return." She paused, studying him. "You look unwell. Did you sleep at all?"

"I'm fine."

"You are not fine." Neytiri stepped closer, her voice gentling. "You care for her. Anyone can see it. It is not shameful to be worried about a friend."

Friend. The word felt like a knife between his ribs.

"Yeah," he managed. "I just... I need to make sure she's okay."

Neytiri nodded, accepting this, and Jake escaped before she could ask any more questions.

He needed to talk to Mo'at. He needed to figure out what the hell he was supposed to do now.

You spent the morning trying to ease back into your routine, but everyone kept hovering. Neytiri brought you food. Tsu'tey checked your bow and arrows, making sure everything was in perfect condition. Even Norm stopped by the kelku to ask how you were feeling.

It was sweet, but also exhausting.

Jake was the worst of them. He was always there—close enough to help if you needed it, but never quite close enough to touch. He watched you with an intensity that made your skin prickle, like he was waiting for something.

"You're being weird," you told him finally, when you caught him staring at you for the third time in an hour.

He blinked, startled. "What?"

"You're hovering. And staring. It's weird." You softened the words with a smile. "I'm okay, Jake. I promise. You don't have to watch me like I'm going to collapse."

"I'm not—" He stopped, ran a hand through his hair. "Sorry. I just... I'm worried about you."

"I know. But I'm fine." You reached out and touched his arm, meaning to be reassuring. "You're a good friend. But you need to relax. I hit my head, I didn't lose my ability to walk."

Friend.

You said it so easily, so naturally. Like that was all he was. All he'd ever been. You had no idea what you were saying, no idea what those words cost him.

Jake felt something crack inside his chest.

"Yeah," he said, his voice rough. "Right. Friend."

He pulled away from your touch and walked off before you could see his face.

You watched him go, confused and a little hurt. You'd been trying to make him feel better, not worse. What was his problem?

Maybe the near-death experience had affected him more than you'd thought. You'd have to talk to him later, make sure he was okay. Maybe he needed to talk to someone about the trauma of almost losing a friend.

For now, though, you had other things to focus on. Mo'at wanted to check your head again, and you still needed to finish the arrows you'd been working on before the collapse.

Life went on, even after you almost died.

You just wished Jake would stop being so dramatic about it.

Jake found Mo'at in her kelku that evening, grinding herbs with practiced efficiency.

"Tsahìk," he said quietly. "I need to speak with you."

She looked up, her golden eyes sharp and knowing. "Come in, Jake Sully."

He ducked inside and sat across from her, trying to figure out how to start. How to explain something he'd worked so hard to keep hidden.

"It's about her," he said finally. "About... what she doesn't remember."

Mo'at's hands stilled. "Go on."

"She doesn't just not remember the collapse." Jake's voice was low, strained. "She doesn't remember us. What we... what we were to each other."

The silence stretched long enough that Jake had to look up. Mo'at was staring at him with an expression he couldn't quite read.

"Were to each other," she repeated slowly. "And what were you to each other, Jake Sully?"

"We were..." He swallowed hard. "We were courting. In secret. We were going to come to you the day of the collapse, to make it official. And then—"

"You were courting," Mo'at said, her voice dangerously quiet. "In secret."

Jake's stomach dropped. "Tsahìk—"

"How long?"

"A few weeks. Maybe a month. We wanted to be sure before we—"

"A month." Mo'at set down her grinding stone with deliberate care. "You have been courting one of my hunters for a month, and you did not think to inform me? To inform the clan?"

"We wanted to keep it private," Jake said, knowing how weak it sounded. "We weren't ready for everyone to know."

"The clan already knew," Mo'at said sharply. "Did you think you were subtle? Did you think no one noticed the way you looked at each other, the way you disappeared together, the way you touched? The only ones who did not know were you two, apparently, because you were too busy hiding to see that your secret was no secret at all."

Jake stared at her. "What?"

"Neytiri has been planning how to tease you both for weeks. Tsu'tey has a bet with Norm about when you would finally make it official. The entire clan has been waiting for you to stop being foolish and come to me properly." Mo'at's ears flattened. "And now you tell me that you were finally ready to do so, and she does not remember? That you hid this from me, kept me in the dark about a courtship that was already common knowledge, and now I cannot help her because I do not know what was lost?"

"I'm sorry," Jake said, the words inadequate. "I didn't... we didn't mean to—"

"You did not mean to fall in love in secret? You did not mean to keep something precious hidden away like you were ashamed of it?" Mo'at's voice gentled slightly, though her eyes remained hard. "Or you did not mean for her to forget?"

Jake's throat tightened. "All of it. I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

Mo'at sighed, some of the anger draining from her posture. "What is done is done. Tell me everything. What does she remember? What does she not?"

"She remembers me," Jake said, the words tasting like ash. "She remembers our friendship, our hunts together, our conversations. She's warm and kind and she treats me exactly like she always did—before. Before we..." He stopped, swallowed hard. "She has no idea we were together. None. It's not that she's confused or uncertain. The memories are just... gone. Completely. She looks at me and sees a friend. That's all."

"Or she does not remember seeing anything else," Mo'at corrected. "There is a difference."

"Is there?" Jake looked at her, desperate. "If she doesn't remember loving me, if those memories don't exist for her anymore—what's the difference?"

"The difference is that love does not disappear simply because the memory of it does," Mo'at said firmly. "The heart remembers what the mind forgets. Give her time."

"How much time? What if she never—"

"Then you will love her anyway," Mo'at said, not unkindly. "And you will let her choose, freely, whether to love you back. As you should have done from the beginning, instead of hiding like children."

Jake flinched. "I know. I know we should have—"

"You should have trusted your clan," Mo'at said. "You should have trusted me. You should have trusted that what you felt was worth claiming openly." She paused. "But you are young, and foolish, and you have already been punished enough. I will not add to it."

"Will you tell her?" Jake asked quietly. "About what we were?"

Mo'at considered this. "No. That is not my place. If you wish to tell her, you may. But I think..." She tilted her head, studying him. "I think it would be better to let her remember on her own. To let her come back to you, rather than trying to force her to be someone she does not remember being."

"And if she doesn't remember?"

"Then you will court her again," Mo'at said simply. "Properly, this time. Openly. And you will trust Eywa to guide you both where you need to be."

Jake nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

"I will watch her," Mo'at continued. "I will monitor her healing. And I will not speak of this to anyone—though I suspect the clan will figure it out soon enough, if they have not already." Her expression softened. "You love her. That is clear. But love is not just about holding on, Jake Sully. Sometimes it is about letting go. About trusting that what is meant to be will find its way back to you."

"I don't want to let go," Jake said, his voice breaking.

"I know," Mo'at said gently. "But you may have to. For now, at least. Until she is ready to hold on again."

The second day was worse.

You were feeling better, more like yourself, and you'd decided to go back to your normal routine. Which meant training, and hunting, and spending time with the clan.

Spending time with Jake.

He was trying, you could tell. Trying to act normal, to be the friend you knew him as. But there was something off about it, something strained. He smiled at the wrong times. Laughed too hard at jokes that weren't funny. Watched you when he thought you weren't looking, with an expression that made your chest ache for reasons you couldn't explain.

"Are you sure you're okay?" you asked him that afternoon, when you'd finished practice and were sitting together in the shade. "You've been acting strange since the collapse."

"I'm fine," he said automatically.

"Jake." You bumped your shoulder against his, playful. "Come on. Talk to me. We're friends, right? You can tell me if something's wrong."

Friends.

There it was again. That word that shouldn't hurt but did. She said it with such certainty, such ease. Because to her, that's all they were. All they'd ever been.

"It's nothing," Jake said. "I'm just... I'm glad you're okay. That's all."

You studied him, unconvinced. There was something in his eyes—something raw and painful that he was trying to hide.

"The collapse really scared you, didn't it?" you said softly. "I know it must have been awful, seeing me get hurt like that. But I'm okay now. You don't have to keep worrying."

"Yeah," he said, his voice rough. "It did."

You reached out and took his hand, squeezing gently. The gesture was meant to be comforting, friendly. "I'm okay, Jake. I'm right here. You don't have to worry."

His fingers tightened around yours, almost painfully. For a moment, you thought he might say something—something important, something that would explain the tension that had been building.

But then he let go and stood, putting distance between you again.

"I should go," he said. "I told Norm I'd help him with something."

"Oh. Okay." You tried not to feel hurt by the dismissal. "I'll see you later?"

"Yeah," he said, not looking at you. "Later."

He left, and you sat there alone, confused and a little annoyed.

What was his problem? You'd almost died, and somehow he was the one acting traumatized. You were fine. You were right here. Why couldn't he just accept that and move on?

You shook your head and stood. Maybe he just needed time to process. Some people dealt with near-death experiences differently than others.

You'd give him space. Let him work through whatever he was working through.

Everything would go back to normal soon enough.

Jake made it back to his kelku before he broke.

He sat on the floor, head in his hands, and tried to breathe through the pain.

She'd held his hand. Smiled at him. Called him her friend. Told him not to worry, like he was being ridiculous for caring so much.

She had no idea. No idea what she'd lost. No idea what they'd been to each other.

And he'd wanted to scream.

Wanted to grab her and shake her and make her remember. Make her see what they'd had, what they'd been to each other.

But he couldn't. Because Mo'at was right—he had to let her come back on her own. Had to trust that if it was meant to be, she'd remember.

Even if it killed him to wait.

Even if every casual touch, every friendly smile, every dismissal of his pain felt like a knife twisting in his chest.

"Jake?"

He looked up to find Neytiri standing in the entrance, concern clear on her face.

"I am sorry to intrude," she said. "But I am worried about you. You have not been yourself since the collapse."

"I'm fine," he said, the lie automatic.

"You are not fine." Neytiri came closer, crouching beside him. "You look like someone has died. Is it her? Is she worse than Mo'at said?"

"No, she's—she's fine. She's healing."

"Then what is wrong?"

Jake looked at her, at his friend, and felt the words rising in his throat. The truth he'd kept hidden for so long.

But he couldn't. Not yet. Not when you might still remember.

"I just..." He swallowed hard. "I almost lost her. And I realized how much she means to me. How much I—" He stopped, unable to finish.

Neytiri's expression softened. "You love her."

It wasn't a question.

"Yeah," Jake said quietly. "I do."

"Does she know?"

"She did," Jake said, the words barely audible. "But now... now she doesn't. She doesn't remember."

Neytiri frowned. "What do you mean?"

"The head injury. She doesn't remember... us. That we were together. She thinks we're just friends." He looked at Neytiri, desperate. "What do I do? How do I—"

"You wait," Neytiri said gently. "You give her time to heal. And you trust that what is meant to be will be."

"That's what Mo'at said."

"Then Mo'at is wise, as always." Neytiri squeezed his shoulder. "Be patient, Jake. Love is not something that can be forced or rushed. It will find its way."

Jake nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

He just hoped she was right.

The third day started like the others.

You woke early, feeling almost back to normal. Your head barely hurt anymore, and the fog that had been clouding your thoughts was finally starting to clear.

You went through your morning routine—checking your weapons, braiding your hair, preparing for the day's hunt. Everything felt familiar, comfortable.

Normal.

Except for Jake.

He was there, as always, hovering at the edges of your awareness. But today, something felt different. You kept catching glimpses of him out of the corner of your eye, and every time you did, something in your chest tightened.

Like you were forgetting something. Something important.

You tried to shake off the feeling and focus on the present. Mo'at wanted to see you one more time, to make sure you were fully healed. After that, you'd be cleared to return to full duties.

Everything would go back to normal.

Except it didn't feel normal. It felt like something was missing.

You made your way to Mo'at's kelku, still trying to figure out what was bothering you. The Tsahìk was working on something when you arrived, her hands moving with practiced efficiency.

"Come in," she said without looking up. "Sit."

You obeyed, settling across from her. She set aside her work and reached out, her fingers gentle as she examined your head.

"The wound is healing well," she said. "How do you feel?"

"Good. Better." You paused. "My head doesn't hurt anymore."

"And your memory? Has anything returned?"

"I don't think so. I still don't really remember the collapse clearly." You frowned. "But I keep feeling like I'm forgetting something. Something important."

Mo'at's hands stilled. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know. It's just... a feeling. Like there's something I should remember, but I can't quite reach it." You looked at her. "Is that normal?"

"It can be," Mo'at said carefully. "The mind protects itself after trauma. Sometimes memories return slowly. Sometimes all at once."

"And sometimes not at all?"

"Sometimes," Mo'at agreed. "But I do not think that will be the case for you. Your injury was not severe enough for permanent damage. Give it time."

You nodded, trying to feel reassured.

Mo'at studied you for a long moment, then said, "Jake Sully has been worried about you."

Something in your chest tightened at his name. "I know. He's been... hovering. Acting weird."

"He cares for you."

"I know," you said again. "He's a good friend. But he's being ridiculous about this. I'm fine."

Mo'at made a sound that might have been amusement or exasperation. "Is that what you think he is? A friend?"

You blinked, confused by the question. "What else would he be?"

"That," Mo'at said, "is something you will have to figure out for yourself."

Before you could ask what she meant, she was already turning back to her work, clearly dismissing you.

You left the kelku more confused than when you'd entered.

What was that supposed to mean? Of course Jake was your friend. What else would he be?

You found Jake near the training grounds, working through a series of combat drills with an intensity that seemed excessive for a simple practice session.

"Hey," you called out.

He spun, startled, and nearly dropped his knife. "Hey. How did it go with Mo'at?"

"Fine. She says I'm healing well." You moved closer, watching him. "Are you okay? You seem tense."

"I'm fine," he said, the lie obvious.

"Jake." You reached out and caught his arm, making him look at you. "What's going on? You've been acting weird for days, and I—"

The moment your hand touched his skin, something shifted.

It was like a door opening in your mind. A rush of sensation, of memory, flooding back all at once.

Jake's hand in yours, fingers intertwined as you walked through the forest. Not as friends. As something more.

His smile, soft and private, meant only for you. The smile of someone in love.

The taste of his kiss, sweet and desperate and perfect.

His voice, low and rough: "I love you. I'm in love with you."

Your own voice, steady and sure: "I'm ready. Let's tell Mo'at. Let's make this real."

You gasped, stumbling back, your hand flying to your head as the memories crashed over you like a wave.

You and Jake. Together. Not as friends. As lovers. As partners.

You'd been courting him. You'd been in love with him.

You were in love with him.

How had you forgotten? How had you not known?

"Oh Eywa," you breathed, looking up at Jake with wide eyes. "Oh Great Mother, Jake, I—we were—"

His expression was carefully blank, but you could see the hope and fear warring in his eyes. "What? What is it?"

"I remember," you said, your voice breaking. "I remember everything. We were together. We were—Jake, we were in love."

For a moment, he just stared at you. Then: "Everything?"

"Everything." You moved closer, your hands shaking as you reached for him. "The river. The confession. The plan to go to Mo'at. I remember—Jake, I remember all of it. How did I forget? How did I not know?"

His breath caught. "You—"

"I remember the way you looked at me," you continued, the words tumbling out. "I remember every time you flinched when I called you my friend. Every time you pulled away when I touched you. Every time you looked like I was breaking your heart. Because I was. I was breaking your heart and I didn't even know why."

"You weren't—" His voice cracked. "You didn't remember. It wasn't your fault."

"I know. But I put you through that. I made you pretend we were nothing when we were—when we are—" You couldn't finish, couldn't find the words.

So you did the only thing that made sense.

You threw yourself at him, your arms wrapping around his neck, and kissed him like you were drowning and he was air.

Jake made a sound—relief and desperation and joy all mixed together—and pulled you closer, his hands shaking as they cupped your face.

"I'm sorry," you gasped against his mouth, tears streaming down your face. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to forget, I didn't mean to hurt you—"

"It's okay," he said, his own voice rough with emotion. "It's okay, baby, you're here now. You remember. That's all that matters."

"I love you," you said, the words fierce and certain. "I love you, Jake Sully. I never stopped, even when I didn't remember. I never stopped."

He kissed you again, deeper this time, pouring everything he'd been holding back into it. All the fear and pain and desperate love he'd been carrying for three days.

You kissed him back just as fiercely, trying to make up for every moment you'd forgotten, every casual touch that had hurt him, every time you'd called him your friend when he was so much more.

"I see you," you whispered against his lips. "I see you, Jake. I'm sorry it took me so long to remember."

"I see you," he said back, his forehead pressed to yours. "God, I see you. I never stopped seeing you."

You stood there, wrapped in each other, and let the world fall away.

"Well."

You both jumped, pulling apart to find Mo'at standing a few feet away, her expression unreadable.

"Tsahìk," Jake said, his voice rough. "I—we—"

"I can see what you are doing," Mo'at said dryly. "The entire clan can probably see what you are doing, given that you are in the middle of the training grounds."

You felt your face heat, but you didn't let go of Jake. Couldn't let go, not now that you had him back.

"I remember," you told Mo'at. "Everything. It all came back."

"I can see that as well." Mo'at moved closer, her golden eyes sharp as she studied you both. "And now that you remember, what do you intend to do?"

You looked at Jake, then back at Mo'at. "We want to court. Properly. Openly. The way we should have from the beginning."

"No more secrets," Jake added. "No more hiding."

Mo'at was quiet for a long moment. Then, slowly, she smiled.

"Finally," she said. "Some sense from you both."

She reached out and placed a hand on each of your heads, her touch gentle and warm.

"I bless this courtship," she said formally. "May Eywa guide you both, and may you walk this path with open hearts and clear eyes."

"Thank you, Tsahìk," you said, your voice thick with emotion.

"Yes, thank you," Jake added. "For everything. For keeping our secret, for helping—"

"For putting up with your foolishness," Mo'at interrupted, but her tone was fond. "Though I expect you to make up for it by not being foolish in the future."

"We'll try," you said, smiling.

"You will do more than try." Mo'at's expression turned thoughtful. "Now, let me see... the mating ceremony will need to be planned. We should do it during the next full moon, I think. That gives us two weeks to prepare. I will need to speak with the elders, and we will need to gather the ceremonial items, and—"

"Wait," Jake said, his eyes wide. "Mating ceremony? Already?"

"You have been courting for a month," Mo'at said, as if this were obvious. "You are clearly committed to each other. Why wait?"

"We just—we wanted to take things slow," you said, though you were smiling. "Make sure we do this right."

"You have already done everything wrong," Mo'at pointed out. "Perhaps it is time to do something right, yes?"

You looked at Jake, saw the hope and love and slight panic in his eyes, and laughed.

"Two weeks?" you said.

"Two weeks," he agreed, his smile growing. "If that's what you want."

"It is," you said, certain. "I want everything with you. No more waiting. No more hiding."

"No more hiding," he echoed, and kissed you again, soft and sweet and full of promise.

Mo'at made a satisfied sound and turned to leave, already muttering to herself about preparations and ceremonies and stubborn young people who didn't know how to court properly.

But you barely heard her. You were too busy holding Jake, being held by him, and marveling at the fact that you'd almost lost this.

Almost lost him.

But Eywa had been kind. Had given you back your memories, your love, your future.

And you weren't going to waste a single moment of it.

"I love you," you said again, because you could. Because you remembered. Because he was yours and you were his and the whole clan was about to know it.

"I love you too," Jake said, his smile bright enough to rival the sun. "Always have. Always will."

And somewhere in the distance, you could hear Mo'at's voice, already planning, already preparing.

Already making sure that this time, you did things right.

Your husband was one to keep his word to you, if he said it would be 5 days, then something must have come up. 

You flinched at the way the little toddler, Mampey, dug her elbow into the inside of your arm, jolting the day old bruise that had formed. She settled onto your lap as she listened to the story teller weave his tale. 

You often kept the children while parents were away on hunts or working. You did not keep a school like the late Dr. Augustine had run, but this was something you had started doing casually because you enjoyed hanging around kids. You usually spent 2-3 days a week keeping the kids, not agreeing to more or else you would have to sacrifice your own duties.

You had asked a story teller to come share with the children, knowing you would like some time to relax today, feeling on edge from both Jake’s absence, and the incident from yesterday. It was stupid really, not even worth repeating. 

A weaver, Kelhoa, had attempted to embrace you at last night's evening meal. You were not an overly affectionate person with touch, especially for someone you did not know all that well, but you had obliged him, hugging him awkwardly. He had offered condolences about Jake’s departure, saying how hard it must be for you and how you must be lonely without him. He assured you that Jake would be just fine, but his words dripped with deceit and you felt icky at his tone. 

But when he had stuck by your side, patting your shoulder and sitting close enough that you felt you had to move away, you said something. “I do not feel comfortable with you being so close to me, I would not like you to touch me anymore,” you had said gently but firmly, so as to not embarrass him or yourself.

But he had paid you no mind, just laughed and bumped your shoulder with his. 

“I said, I do no-” you gasped as he grabbed your arm harshly and pulled you closer, making your balance go askew and you fell nearly into his lap.

“Woah!” he said in feigned surprise, as he helped you back up into a crouched, seated position. His hands laid across your arm and side, making your skin crawl as you scrambled to get away from him. “Careful there.”

You stood up and he smirked up at you from where he was seated. You backed away from him, turning with tears forming in your eyes, as you went home at a brisk pace. You only stopped when you had gotten into your shared Kelku with Jake, closed the animal hide covering over the entry way and latched it tightly as you melted to the floor. You cradled your barely there bump as a comfort, reminding yourself that ultimately you and the baby were okay and that was what mattered.

It was a powerplay, you realized now. He was trying to show he had the upper hand regardless of what you said. It was a message that he could do what he wanted. You should have been more clear, maybe done things differently, but you were still shocked by his bold actions.

The story teller finished weaving his tale and the kids clapped as Toruk Makto led the Na’vi to victory and the mean skypeople went back home, a story still fresh on many people’s minds. It helped sooth the prickly worry in your chest. Whatever Jake was currently facing, he had faced worse and had come out the other side. He was Toruk Makto, Eywa would not turn her back on him. 

The tiny Na’vi squirmed in your arms, wanting to be let down to rejoin her brother, and you released her to toddle off. You numbly thanked the man for sharing and gathered the kids around the fire to distribute lunch. You did this distractedly, feeling shame from not handling last night better and feeling nervous about possibly having to see him again. You should have pulled your knife and drawn blood, yet you ran away like a child. You wanted Jake to come home, then you would feel all was in its place. 

“Karyu (teacher)!” a voice called, a child came tearing through the village, stopping under the hung canopy of cloth that you used to shelter the children. Your body went rigid, your face twisting in worry as he panted for breath.

“What is it?” you demanded.

“The Olo’eyktan! He is home,” the child exclaimed, pointing to the village center where you could see ikrans flying overhead and people gathered, looking up as the warriors prepared to land.

“Jake!” the kids squealed, liking the Olo’eyktan very much despite his humanness. He would stop by the school often to see his wife, always saying hello to the kids and teaching them new things like a high 4 and how to fist bump.

“Jake,” you sighed in relief, before scooping up Mampey in your arms and motioning the other children to follow you. You walked quickly to the grounded Ikran, handing the girl off to her brother when you spotted Jake.

You let out a mild sob as he spotted you. He beamed, disrupting tsuheylu as he dismounted. You ran to him, lips smiling wide as he rushed towards you. 

“Baby,” he murmured as his soft eyes gazed upon you after a week apart.

“Ma’ Jake,” you sighed, crashing into his arms as he pulled you to him, holding firmly, but not harshly, making sure to avoid your stomach, where you both knew what would soon be your first child was growing. You had not shared the news with anyone yet other than the Tsahìk, knowing that it was so soon in the pregnancy. Plus, you liked keeping the secret all to yourselves for now.

His hand came to the back of your head, guiding it to rest in the crook of his neck. He still smelled the exact same as when he left and it brought you comfort that he had not changed. Your cheek rested on the top of his chest, smiling into his skin as his other arm wrapped around you.

Your arms cradling his middle, holding tightly to him as if he would evaporate if you did not hold him here.

“I missed you so much,” he said against your hair.

“I missed you more. I was so worried, Jake,” you muttered, squeezing him tighter.

“I know, I’m sorry. They needed some help rebuilding after a storm blew through on our third night there. It felt wrong to just leave,” he explained and you nodded. 

“That is honorable, I cannot be angry at you for that,” you smiled, pulling away to see his face.

“Good, I was angry enough for the both of us. I wanted to come home,” he groaned, a laugh running through the end of his sentence.

You smiled at his urgency to come back to you. “You are here now. That is what matters,” you reminded him.

-

That night, you and Jake ate together at the evening meal surrounded by friends and Jake’s team of advisors and warriors. The group was loud, rowdy, but you knew each one of them and trusted them with your life. It felt right for them to be home.

You had tried avoiding Kelhoa like a sickness, but when you had gotten up to get more food while Jake was speaking to one of the warriors, you had not seen him coming.

“Home at last, the dream walker chief has returned,” Kelhoa said bitterly from behind you. You startled, turning slightly to see him directly over your shoulder and you stepped forward, nearly knocking over a bowl.

“Stay away from me,” you warned before deciding you would not entertain an argument or conversation with this man. He smirked strangely at you as discomfort took over your senses. You walked away quickly, food forgotten as you sat back down next to Jake much closer than before.

He paused his conversation, muttering an “excuse me”, before his hands came to find yours. “What’s wrong, you look scared, baby. Did something happen?” he asked, looking concerned. He brushed the hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear before cupping your cheek.

“I am fine,” you insisted, swallowing back your discomfort and embracing the safety of his presence. He was here to protect you now.

“Is it the baby?” he asked quietly and you shook your head. 

“No, it is fine,” you promised.

Jake glanced down to your stomach and his eyes snagged on your arm, causing him to do a double take. “What is this?” he demanded, bringing his hand to examine the faint purple bruises shaped like the size of three fingers on your arm. You winced as he gently prodded into the skin.

“Nothing,” you said, trying to pull away, but he held fast, leveling his gaze at you.

“Who did this to you?” he ground out, eyes blazing with barely bridled fury, his jaw clenched.

Your lips pursed and your breath left your lungs in one great exhale, “Last night, a weaver, Kelhoa… he got too close. He hugged me, touched my shoulder and arm. It is not a big deal,” you shrugged, but Jake shook his head.

“He touched you?” Jake repeated, eyebrows furrowing low on his forehead. 

Your eyes averted from his stare, looking down in shame. “I told him that I did not want him near me, but he knocked me off balance just so he could help me up again and have the opportunity to grab my arm, I think,” you admitted.

“Where is he?” Jake said calmly, too calmly.

You scanned the room, finding him against the edges of the area, talking with friends. “There, with the green cumberbund and the braids.” you said, nodding in his direction.

Jake did not say another word, just stood up, drawing the attention of half of those around him. He snaked through the crowd, pulling you behind him with a joined hand. When Kelhoa saw you coming, he visibly paled as the Olo’eyktan stalked towards him.

Jake let go of your hand when he passed Neytiri, basically dropping you off with her. Neytiri looked at you with wrinkles on her forehead, asking you a silent question.

“Kelhoa was too forward while Jake was away,” you explained, purple tinting your ears as Neytiri nodded.

“Then he must be addressed,” she agreed. “Why did you not tell me?” she asked.

You shrugged. “I did not think it was worth the trouble,” you muttered.

Jake moved like the wind, swift and sure, as he grabbed the creep and hiked him against a nearby tree. Jake’s arm held against Kelhoa’s collarbones prevented him from moving as he glared into his soul.

“You mess with my woman?” Jake demanded. Your face heated as you realized most of the people had gone silent as they watched the altercation.

“No Olo’eyktan!” Kelhoa sputtered, eyes blown wide with surprise. 

“That’s not what she says, and she had marks to prove it,” Jake pointed out, pressing his arm down harder. 

“It was just a joke!” Kelhoa exclaimed, looking at you. “Tell him! It was just a joke!” he pleaded.

You backed away a step, cradling your belly subconsciously. Neytiri clasped your shoulder protectively.

Jake slammed him into the tree again so hard that leaves shook and fell down, “Don’t address her, you talk to me.”

Kelhoa’s scared eyes flew back to Jake. “I did not mean any harm. Certainly not enough was done to move you to anger,” he said and Jake hissed, moving his arms just to bring his hands up to Kelhoa’s shoulders, and threw him to the ground. 

The people around you shrieked and gasped and Neytiri brought an arm around your shoulder to pull you closer to her side. Jake’s braids swung as he moved to stand above him with authority.

“If you mess with a pregnant woman while her mate is away, don’t be surprised when her husband comes looking for justice,” Jake ground out. 

Neytiri inhaled sharply at the word pregnant and looked to you for confirmation. You nodded, moving your hand across your barely showing stomach. To someone who did not know, it looked as if you had just had a big meal that day.

Kelhoa cowered in the dirt, “I did not know she was with child! I did not mean to insult you, Jake!”

Jake’s fists clenched, “You did worse than that, you insulted her. I don't care if you knew or not, you should treat every woman with respect, especially my wife.” 

“Jake,” you called softly, feeling embarrassed by all the attention being brought to the situation.

Jake’s shoulders lowered and he turned back to you, “You okay?” he asked. 

You nodded. “I am okay, let us forget about this and return to celebrating your homecoming. I do not want any more violence,” you urged.

He shook his head, “not until he apologizes.”

Kelhoa’s eyes widened, “I am sorry!” he insisted, looking up to Jake.

Jake rolled his eyes, “Not to me, Skxawng. To her,” he spat.

Kelhoa scoffed, “I’m not-” he froze as Jake hissed, the smooth sound made every hair raise on your arms. 

“Apologize!” He commanded with all of the ferocity of his title as Toruk Makto demanded. Neytiri tightened her hold around you and you squeezed her hand.

Kelhoa shrank back, “I am sorry, y/n,” he managed to get out.

You nodded, “I forgive you.” The words tasted wrong on your tongue.

“It is her kindness that you owe a debt to,” Jake said, stepping back, momentarily satiated with the apology. “You will not so much as look at her again or I will take it as a challenge of combat, understood?”

Kelhoa pursed his lips but nodded. “Yes, Olo’eyktan,”

“Good, get outta my sight,” he ordered, stepping back fully as Kelhoa scrambled back and rejoined his friends. The small group looked at him warily as he pushed through them towards the exit.

Jake approached and nodded at Neytiri who passed you back to him.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes, but you did not have to cause such a scene? Now everyone knows what happened and that we are expecting,” you pouted, not really mad, but more put out by his dramatics.

“Yes, I did. He needed to be made an example so everyone knows,” Jake stated with no regret in his gaze. “No one messes with my girl, or I’ll mess right back.”

Jake Sully Taglist: @chaotickittenanchor @sleepilysworld @irinazatyk @up-l4te-4t-n1ght @yogirlminnie @superlegend216 @mrscadethankya @kodzuvk @saltedcoffeescotch @x-isha9 @earth2t @saibaxoxo @cherrysfruity @iconotfound @sillyfreakfanparty @dat-bit @coastalcowgirlie @loreyuv @leeaaahhhhhh23 @18lkpeters @sapphicdecay @fantasticxox @julietelysythe @pearly-pebble @itskekeelise @kklovescookies @omg-hellgirl

Part One

The whispers started during the communal meal three moons after the last great hunt.

You were sitting with the other hunters, cleaning your bow while Tsu'tey's son recounted an exaggerated tale of tracking a palulukan. The fire crackled, sending sparks into the darkening sky, and you were only half-listening—until you caught your name paired with another.

"...and I am telling you, they have already chosen each other. Did you see the way she looked at him during the—"

"Shh! She will hear you!"

But you had already heard. You glanced up sharply, catching the eyes of two younger Na'vi women who immediately became very interested in their food. Your ears flattened slightly in irritation.

They were talking about you and Jake.

Jake Sully. Toruk Makto. Olo'eyktan. The man who had led your people through war and into an uncertain peace. A good leader. A decent hunter, despite his strange human origins. Someone you worked well with.

And apparently, according to clan gossip, someone you were courting.

Which was absolutely ridiculous.

You returned to your bow with perhaps more force than necessary, running the cleaning cloth along the wood with sharp, precise movements. Yes, you and Jake worked together often. Yes, you seemed to end up paired on hunts more frequently than coincidence would suggest. But that was simply because you were both competent, and competent people naturally gravitated toward one another when survival was at stake.

It meant nothing.

"You look like you want to shoot something," Neytiri's amused voice came from beside you. She settled gracefully onto the log, her own bow across her lap. "Or someone."

"The clan has too much time for idle talk," you muttered.

Neytiri's smile was knowing. "Ah. You have heard the whispers, then."

"It is foolish. We are not—" You stopped, jaw tightening. "We work together. That is all."

"Mm." Neytiri's tone was infuriatingly neutral. "Of course. That is why you know he prefers his bow strung tighter than most. And why he knows you check your arrows three times before a hunt, never twice, never four times. Always three."

You shot her a look. "That is simply—we have hunted together many times. It would be strange if we did not notice such things."

"Strange," Neytiri agreed, but her eyes danced with mirth. "Yes. Very strange."

Before you could respond, a familiar presence settled on your other side. You didn't need to look to know it was Jake—you'd grown attuned to the particular way he moved, the slight heaviness in his step that came from years in a human body before this one.

"What's strange?" he asked, reaching for a piece of fruit from the communal basket.

"Nothing," you said quickly.

"The clan," Neytiri said at the same time, her smile widening.

Jake glanced between you, one eyebrow raised. In the firelight, his eyes were more gold than yellow, and there was a smudge of red clay on his jaw from the day's work reinforcing the outer defenses. You noticed it, then immediately annoyed yourself for noticing it.

"The clan?" he prompted.

You sighed. "They believe we are courting."

For a moment, Jake went very still. Then he laughed—a short, surprised bark of sound that made several nearby Na'vi glance over. "What? Us?"

"Yes, us," you said, somewhat offended by how incredulous he sounded. "Apparently we have been 'making eyes' at each other."

"Making eyes?" Jake's grin was crooked, amused. "That's—we're friends. We hunt together. That's it."

"Exactly," you said firmly. "That is what I said."

"People see what they want to see," Jake said, shaking his head. He bit into the fruit, juice running down his chin. He wiped it away absently. "Don't worry about it. It'll blow over."

Neytiri made a soft sound that might have been a laugh, but when you looked at her, she was studying her bow with sudden intense focus.

"It had better," you muttered. "I do not need the entire clan watching my every move, waiting for something that will never happen."

"Never is a long time," Neytiri said softly.

You ignored her.

It did not blow over.

If anything, the whispers grew louder. You began to notice the glances, the way conversations would pause when you walked by, the knowing smiles from the elders. It was infuriating.

The breaking point came during a gathering at the Tree of Souls, when Mo'at herself fixed you with her ancient, knowing gaze and said, "It is good that the Olo'eyktan has found someone worthy. The People need to see their leader happy."

You nearly choked on your own breath. "Tsahìk, I—we are not—"

"We're not together," Jake cut in, appearing at your elbow as if summoned. His hand landed on your shoulder, warm and steady, and you tried not to notice how natural the weight of it felt. "I don't know where everyone got that idea, but we're just friends."

Mo'at's expression didn't change, but something flickered in her eyes. Amusement, perhaps. Or knowing. "I see. My mistake."

"Not a mistake," you said quickly. "Just—a misunderstanding. We work together often. Hunt together. But that is all."

"Yeah," Jake agreed. His hand was still on your shoulder. "That's all."

Mo'at hummed, a sound that conveyed profound skepticism. "Of course. Forgive an old woman her foolish assumptions." She turned away, but not before you caught the smallest smile on her lips.

When she was gone, Jake's hand dropped from your shoulder. You immediately missed the warmth, then felt irritated at yourself for missing it.

"This is getting out of hand," you said.

"Tell me about it. Tsu'tey cornered me yesterday and gave me a whole speech about choosing a mate wisely and not rushing into anything." Jake ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up at odd angles. "Like I'm some kid who doesn't know what he's doing."

"Neytiri asked me if I had thought about where I would want to live after the bonding ceremony," you admitted.

Jake's eyes widened. "The bonding—we're not even—" He laughed again, but this time it sounded slightly strained. "Okay. We need to make it clear. Very clear. To everyone. That we are not courting."

"Agreed."

"We'll just... I don't know, be obvious about it. Make sure people see us with other people. Not always together."

"Yes. Good idea."

You both nodded firmly, a pact made.

Neither of you mentioned that the thought of deliberately avoiding each other felt wrong, somehow. Like denying something that had become comfortable and easy and right.

The plan to be less obvious about your friendship had the opposite effect.

When you deliberately sat with different groups during meals, people noticed. When Jake made a point of partnering with other hunters, people whispered about lovers' quarrels. When you both showed up to the same training session and carefully maintained distance, the knowing looks multiplied.

It was maddening.

"This is stupid," you hissed to Jake after a particularly awkward afternoon where you'd both reached for the same spear in the weapons cache and then jerked back as if burned. "We are being stupid."

"Yeah," Jake agreed. He looked as frustrated as you felt. "This is worse than just... being normal."

"We should just work together as we always have. Ignore the gossip."

"Right. Exactly. We're adults. We can handle some teasing."

"It means nothing."

"Nothing," Jake confirmed.

You both nodded, a new pact made.

But something had shifted. Now, every time you were near each other, you were hyperaware of it. Aware of the space between you, of where his hands were, of how his voice sounded when he said your name. The easy, unconscious comfort you'd shared had been replaced by something electric and uncertain.

You told yourself it was just because of the scrutiny. The clan's expectations had made things weird.

You told yourself it had nothing to do with the way your heart beat faster when you caught sight of him across the village, or the way his smile seemed to linger when he looked at you.

The hunt was supposed to be routine.

A small party tracking a herd of yerik that had been spotted near the old battlefield. You, Jake, and three other hunters moved through the forest with practiced silence, reading signs in the disturbed moss and broken branches.

You were in your element here. The forest was where you made sense—where instinct and skill mattered more than words or politics or confusing feelings you refused to examine.

Jake moved ahead, scouting, and you found yourself watching the line of his shoulders, the confident way he navigated the terrain. He'd come so far from the dream walker who could barely walk without falling. Now he moved like he'd been born to this body, this world.

He glanced back, catching your eye, and gestured: yerik, close, downwind.

You nodded, signaling the others. The party split, circling to drive the herd toward the clearing where you'd have clean shots.

Everything happened in heartbeats.

You moved into position, bow ready. The yerik emerged from the undergrowth, graceful and unaware. You drew back your arrow, breathing steady, waiting for the right moment—

The ground beneath you shifted.

Old human machinery, buried and forgotten, gave way under your weight. You fell, sliding down a sudden slope of loose earth and metal, your bow flying from your hands. You scrabbled for purchase, fingers digging into soil, but momentum carried you toward a jagged piece of debris, rusted metal reaching up like teeth—

Strong hands caught you.

Jake had lunged down the slope after you, moving with the kind of speed that came from pure instinct. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you against his chest as he twisted, taking the impact against his own shoulder as you both hit the ground.

For a moment, you couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Could only feel the solid warmth of him, the way his heart hammered against your back, the way his arms stayed locked around you even after you'd stopped moving.

"You okay?" His voice was rough, breathless in your ear.

You nodded, not trusting your voice.

"That was close." His arms tightened fractionally. "Too close."

You became aware of the other hunters calling down, asking if you were hurt. Became aware that you needed to move, to respond, to do something other than stay frozen in Jake's embrace.

But for just a moment longer, you let yourself feel safe.

When you finally pulled away and looked at him, his eyes were dark with something you couldn't name. His hand came up, almost unconsciously, and brushed dirt from your cheek. The touch lingered.

"We should—" you started.

"Yeah," he said quickly, dropping his hand. "Yeah. Let's get back up there."

He helped you climb back up the slope, his hand steady on your back, and you tried not to think about how right it felt. How much you wanted him to keep touching you.

How terrified that wanting made you.

After the hunt, things changed again.

Jake started showing up with food when you were working on your weapons. "You missed the evening meal," he'd say, as if it was nothing. As if he hadn't gone out of his way to bring it to you.

You found yourself seeking him out to share small observations—a joke one of the children had made, a beautiful sunrise, a new technique you'd thought of for fletching arrows. Things that didn't matter, except they did, because you wanted to share them with him.

You learned that he liked to work with his hands when he was thinking through a problem. That he sometimes still dreamed in English and woke confused. That he had a scar on his ribs from his first hunt, before he'd really understood how fast a viperwolf could move.

He learned that you hummed when you were concentrating. That you were afraid of failing your people, of not being good enough, strong enough, worthy enough. That you checked your arrows three times because your father had taught you, and it was a way of keeping him close even though he'd walked with Eywa for many years now.

The clan still whispered, but you'd stopped denying it quite so vehemently.

Because the truth was becoming harder to ignore.

"You are being an idiot," Neytiri informed you one afternoon.

You were helping her gather medicinal plants near the river, your hands working automatically while your mind wandered. It had been wandering a lot lately. Usually toward a certain Olo'eyktan with golden eyes and a crooked smile.

"I am gathering plants," you said. "There is nothing idiotic about that."

"You are in love with Jake and you are too stubborn to admit it."

Your hands stilled. "I am not—"

"Please." Neytiri fixed you with a look that reminded you she was the daughter of a Tsahìk, trained to see what others tried to hide. "You watch him like he is the only person in the village. He watches you the same way. Everyone sees it except you two."

"The clan has been saying that for months," you said weakly. "It does not make it true."

"No. What makes it true is the way you smile when he is near. The way he looks for you in every crowd. The way you move together like two parts of one whole." Neytiri's expression softened. "Why do you fight it?"

You were quiet for a long moment, staring at the plant in your hands. "Because if I admit it... if we admit it... then everyone was right. The gossips, the whispers, the knowing looks. They were all right, and we were wrong."

"And this matters more than your happiness?"

"It is not about happiness. It is about—" You struggled for words. "Pride. Stubbornness. I do not know. It feels like losing."

"Love is not a battle," Neytiri said gently. "And even if it were, refusing to fight is not the same as winning."

You had no answer for that.

That night, you couldn't sleep.

You kept thinking about what Neytiri had said. About the way Jake had looked at you during the hunt, the way his hands had felt catching you. About all the small moments that had been adding up, building into something you could no longer pretend didn't exist.

You see Jake Sully.

The realization should have been shocking, but it wasn't. It felt like finally admitting something you'd known for a long time, something that had been growing quietly in the spaces between words and glances and shared silences.

The question was: what were you going to do about it?

Jake was having the same realization, though he'd been fighting it longer.

He'd been in love before—with a woman from another world, another life. He knew what it felt like. The way your chest got tight when they smiled. The way you wanted to tell them every stupid little thing that happened in your day. The way their happiness became more important than your own.

He felt all of that with you.

And it terrified him.

Because you were Na'vi in a way he never quite would be. You belonged to this world completely, had never known another. You deserved someone who understood that, who didn't carry the weight of two worlds on their shoulders.

But Eywa help him, he wanted you anyway.

"You are thinking too loud," Neytiri said, appearing beside him where he sat on the edge of Hometree, looking out over the darkened forest. "I can hear it from inside."

Jake huffed a laugh. "Sorry."

"It is about her."

It wasn't a question. Jake didn't bother denying it. "Yeah."

"And you feel...?"

"Everything," Jake admitted quietly. "I feel everything. And I don't know what to do about it."

"You could tell her."

"And if she doesn't feel the same way? I'd lose her friendship. Lose what we have now."

"What you have now is two people dancing around the truth," Neytiri said. "It is painful to watch."

Jake glanced at her. "That obvious?"

"To everyone but you two, yes." She settled beside him, her tail curling around her feet. "Jake. You have led our people through war. You have bonded with Toruk. You have died and been reborn. Why does this frighten you more than any of that?"

"Because," Jake said slowly, "all of that was about being strong enough, brave enough, good enough. This is about... being worthy of something precious. And I'm not sure I am."

"Then let her decide that," Neytiri said simply. "Trust her to know her own heart."

The next day, there was a close call.

A hunting party encountered a thanator near the village—too close, too aggressive. The warning horns sounded, and everyone mobilized. You grabbed your bow and ran toward the commotion, heart pounding.

By the time you arrived, Jake was already there, standing between the beast and a group of children who'd been playing too far from the village center. He had his bow drawn, but the angle was wrong—if he shot and missed, the thanator would charge, and the children would be in its path.

You didn't think. You moved.

Your arrow flew true, striking the thanator's shoulder. Not a killing blow, but enough to make it turn toward you instead. Away from Jake. Away from the children.

"Run!" you shouted at them, and they scattered.

The thanator roared, furious, and charged.

You dove aside, rolling, reaching for another arrow. But Jake was already there, his arrow taking the beast in the throat. It fell, twitching, then went still.

Silence.

Then Jake was in front of you, hands on your shoulders, eyes wild. "What were you thinking? That thing could have killed you!"

"It would have killed those children," you shot back. "And you could not get a clear shot."

"So you made yourself bait?" His hands tightened. "Do you have any idea—if something happened to you—"

He stopped. Seemed to realize what he was saying. What he was revealing.

You stared at him, breathing hard, and saw your own feelings reflected in his eyes. The fear. The desperate relief. The love that neither of you had been willing to name.

"Jake," you whispered.

He let you go abruptly, stepping back. "I need—I have to check on the children. Make sure everyone's okay."

He left before you could respond, and you stood there in the aftermath, your heart racing for reasons that had nothing to do with the thanator.

He found you that evening at the river, where you'd gone to think.

You heard him approach but didn't turn around, just kept staring at the bioluminescent fish darting through the water like living stars.

"I'm sorry," Jake said quietly. "For earlier. For—"

"Do not apologize." You finally looked at him. "Not for caring. Not for that."

He moved closer, and in the soft glow of the forest, his face was open in a way you'd never seen before. Vulnerable.

"I can't do this anymore," he said. "I can't pretend. Can't keep acting like you're just a friend, just a hunting partner, just—" He stopped, jaw working. "You're not. You haven't been for a long time."

Your breath caught.

"I know the timing is terrible," Jake continued. "I know everyone's been saying it for months and we've been denying it and admitting it now means they were all right and we were being stubborn idiots. I know all of that. But I don't care anymore." He took another step closer. "I see you. Not just as Olo'eyktan to hunter. Not just as friends. I see you. And I—"

You closed the distance between you and kissed him.

For a heartbeat, he froze in surprise. Then his arms came around you, pulling you close, and he kissed you back like he'd been starving for it. Like you were air and he'd been drowning.

When you finally broke apart, both breathing hard, his forehead rested against yours.

"I see you too," you whispered. "I have for so long. I was just too proud to admit it."

Jake laughed, the sound shaky with relief and joy. "We're idiots."

"Yes," you agreed. "But we are idiots together."

He kissed you again, softer this time, reverent. His hand cupped your face, thumb brushing your cheekbone, and you leaned into the touch like a flower turning toward the sun.

"The clan is going to be insufferable about this," you murmured against his lips.

"Probably." Jake pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes warm. "But... can we keep this to ourselves? Just for a little while? Before everyone makes it into this big thing and Mo'at starts planning ceremonies and the whole clan gets involved?"

You understood immediately. This thing between you was new and precious and yours. You wanted time to explore it without an audience, without expectations.

"Yes," you said. "Our secret. For now."

"For now," Jake agreed. He smiled, that crooked smile that made your heart skip. "But eventually, I want everyone to know. Want them to see that you chose me. That I'm yours."

"Paskalin," you said softly, testing the word. Sweet berry. It fit him—this man who had been sharp and lost when he arrived, but had grown into something warm and vital and beloved.

His eyes darkened with pleasure. "Say it again."

"Paskalin," you repeated, and kissed him once more.

The next few weeks were the happiest of your life.

You and Jake stole moments whenever you could. Secret meetings in the forest, hidden alcoves in Hometree, quiet hours after the village had gone to sleep. You learned the taste of his mouth, the feel of his hands in your hair, the way he murmured your name like a prayer.

He called you "baby" in those private moments, the human word strange and sweet on his tongue. You'd asked him what it meant, and he'd tried to explain—a term of endearment, something precious and protected and loved.

"Like paskalin," you'd said, and he'd smiled.

"Yeah. Like that."

You learned each other in new ways. The curve of his smile when he was truly, deeply happy. The way he touched you—reverent and wondering, like he couldn't quite believe you were real. The sound of his laugh when you whispered something ridiculous in his ear during a clan meeting, making him struggle to keep his expression serious.

He learned that you liked to be kissed slowly, thoroughly, until you forgot everything but him. That you fit perfectly against his chest, your head tucked under his chin. That you made a soft, pleased sound when he ran his fingers down your spine.

It was intoxicating, this secret world you'd built together.

But it couldn't stay secret forever.

"We should tell Mo'at," you said one night, curled against Jake's side in a hidden spot you'd claimed as yours. "Ask for her blessing."

Jake's hand stilled where it had been tracing patterns on your shoulder. "You want to make it official."

"Do you not?" You pulled back to look at him, suddenly uncertain.

"No—I mean, yes. I do." He sat up, taking your hands in his. "I want everyone to know. Want to stand in front of the whole clan and tell them you're mine and I'm yours. I just..." He smiled, a little rueful. "I've been selfish. Wanting to keep you to myself."

"I have been selfish too," you admitted. "But I am ready. Ready for them to know."

"Okay." Jake squeezed your hands. "We'll go to Mo'at tomorrow. Ask her to announce it properly, the way it should be done."

"The Olo'eyktan choosing his mate," you said, testing the words. They felt right. They felt like destiny.

"My mate," Jake repeated softly, wonderingly. He pulled you close again, kissing your temple. "I like the sound of that, baby."

You smiled against his chest. "So do I, paskalin."

But tomorrow never came.

The old human base had been a thorn in the clan's side for months—a reminder of the Sky People, slowly being reclaimed by the forest but still dangerous. Jake had organized a group to clear it out completely, to salvage what could be used and destroy what couldn't.

You'd volunteered immediately. It was the kind of work you were good at—methodical, careful, important.

Jake had tried to argue, but you'd given him a look that said you wouldn't be left behind just because you were courting. He'd relented, but made you promise to be careful.

"Always am," you'd said, and kissed him quickly when no one was looking.

The base was a graveyard of metal and plastic, slowly being consumed by vines and moss. Your group worked systematically, checking for anything hazardous, marking what could be salvaged.

You were in one of the smaller structures, examining a cache of old equipment, when you heard the groan of metal.

You looked up just in time to see the ceiling collapsing.

Tried to move.

Wasn't fast enough.

Pain exploded through your skull as something struck you, and then there was nothing but darkness.

You woke to soft voices and the smell of healing herbs.

Your head throbbed, a deep ache that pulsed with your heartbeat. You tried to open your eyes, but the light was too bright, too much.

"Easy," a familiar voice said. Mo'at. "Do not move too quickly."

You managed to crack your eyes open. You were in the healing tent, lying on soft furs. Mo'at's face swam into focus above you, her expression concerned but calm.

"What..." Your voice came out rough. "What happened?"

"You were injured at the old Sky People base," Mo'at said. "A piece of the structure fell. You hit your head."

The memory came back in fragments. The groaning metal. The impact. The darkness.

"How long?" you asked.

"A day and a night. We were beginning to worry." Mo'at's hand was cool on your forehead. "How do you feel?"

"My head hurts." You tried to sit up, and the world spun. Mo'at steadied you with firm hands.

"You must rest. Head injuries are not to be taken lightly."

"I am fine," you insisted, though you weren't entirely sure that was true. Everything felt... foggy. Distant.

"You should tell her," another voice said, and you turned to see Jake standing in the entrance to the tent.

Your heart did a strange little skip at the sight of him. He looked terrible—exhausted, worried, his hair disheveled like he'd been running his hands through it. When had he gotten so handsome? When had you started noticing things like the exact shade of his eyes, the line of his jaw?

"Tell me what?" you asked.

Jake moved closer, and there was something in his expression you couldn't quite read. Something intense and searching.

"How do you feel?" he asked, echoing Mo'at's question. But there was weight behind it, like he was asking something else entirely.

"Confused," you admitted. "My head hurts. But I am alright."

"Do you remember what happened? At the base?"

You frowned, trying to pull the memories into focus. "I was... examining equipment. The ceiling collapsed. I could not move in time." You looked at him. "Did anyone else get hurt?"

"No. Just you." His voice was tight. "You scared the hell out of me, baby."

You blinked. "Baby?"

The word was strange. Foreign. You'd heard Jake use human words before, but this one felt... significant, somehow. Like it should mean something to you.

Jake's expression shifted, something flickering in his eyes. Fear, maybe. Or realization.

"It's a human term," he said carefully. "I've explained it before. It's... a term of endearment."

"Oh." That made sense, you supposed. Jake sometimes used human words. It was part of who he was. "That is kind of you."

Mo'at was watching you both with sharp eyes. "What is the last thing you remember clearly?" she asked. "Before the accident."

You thought about it. "The morning meal. You were there," you said to Jake. "And Neytiri. We were discussing the plan for clearing the base."

"And after that?"

"After that... we went to the base. I was working. And then the ceiling fell." You looked between them. "Why? Is something wrong?"

Jake and Mo'at exchanged a glance, some silent communication passing between them.

"No," Jake said finally. "Nothing's wrong. You just need to rest."

But something in his voice said that was a lie.

Mo'at gave you something bitter to drink for the pain, and soon the world started to blur at the edges. You were vaguely aware of Jake sitting beside you, his hand hovering near yours but not quite touching.

"Rest," he said softly. "I'll be here when you wake up."

You wanted to ask why he looked so sad, why his voice sounded so strained. But the medicine was pulling you under, and the questions slipped away like water through your fingers.

Jake sat beside your sleeping form long after Mo'at had left, his hands clenched into fists on his knees.

You didn't remember.

You'd looked at him like a friend. A colleague. Someone you worked with and trusted, but nothing more. When he'd called you "baby"—the name that had become his favorite thing to call you in private, the word that always made you smile and pull him close—you'd looked confused.

You didn't remember the confession by the river. Didn't remember the stolen kisses, the whispered promises, the plans you'd made. Didn't remember that just yesterday, you'd agreed to go to Mo'at together, to make your courtship official.

You didn't remember that you loved him.

And he had no idea what to do about it.

Mo'at had said the memory loss might be temporary. Head injuries were unpredictable. You might remember everything tomorrow, or next week, or never. There was no way to know.

Jake reached out, finally letting himself touch you. His fingers brushed your cheek, gentle, reverent.

"Come back to me," he whispered. "Please, baby. Come back."

But you slept on, peaceful and unaware, and Jake was left alone with the knowledge that he'd lost you without ever really having the chance to claim you.

The secret you'd kept so carefully had become a prison. No one knew you were his. No one knew what you'd meant to each other. If you never remembered, it would be like it had never happened at all.

Like the most important thing in his life had been nothing but a dream.

Jake dropped his head into his hands and tried to figure out how to fix something that might be irreparably broken.

How to hold on to someone who didn't remember being held.

How to love someone who'd forgotten they loved him back.

END OF PART ONE

Arms brushed against you. Someone gasped your name. Others shifted aside when they saw the state of you. Dirty, torn clothes, and bruises blooming dark beneath your stripes. All hidden beneath the remnants of war paint from the day you’d disappeared. You barely noticed. Your eyes were locked onto one thing and one thing only;

Jake.

He stood at the center, in full swing of his coronation into becoming the next Olo’eyktan. Ritualistic feathers streamed from his shoulders. Beads and bone caught the firelight. Paint marked his face in shapes you didn’t recognize. He looked taller somehow. Broader.

The moment his eyes landed on you, everything stopped.

The singing faltered. Hands dropped. Heads turned toward the disturbance as your crumpled body pushed through the last ring toward him. Jake broke formation instantly and ran to you.

You barely had time to register movement before his arms were around you, catching you when your knees almost gave out. He pulled you tight against his chest, one hand cradling the back of your head. Holding you like he was afraid you would disappear if he loosened his grip. Hugging you tight like he’d never let go, then quickly loosening up when he heard you wheeze.

He pulled back just enough to let you breathe, panic already flooding his face.

All this time and he thought you were dead. Or worse… still alive.

“Mawey,” He murmured, voice shaking as his fingers slid through your hair. “Easy. I got you.”

There wasn’t time.

Your hand pressed urgently against his chest plate, fingers trembling against the carved armour.

“They’re coming,” You gasped. “I got here as fast as I could. They know about the coronation. You need to evacuate. Now.”

His expression changed instantly. Leader replacing lover in a heartbeat. He looked up at the gathered clan.

“Arm yourselves and move.” He ordered.

“No!” You barked, grabbing his armor and pulling him back down toward you. “You have to get them out first. They know everything. Patrol routes. Tunnels. All of it.”

Understanding flashed across his face. Horror followed. Before he could respond, the hometree shuddered violently. The first missile struck.

A deafening crack split the air as wood and leaves rained down.

The crowd surrounding became a chorus of screams. Another explosion followed. Then another. The sound of aircraft thundered overhead, ikran cries piercing through the chaos. The roots wouldn’t hold out forever.

“Daddy!” Tuk screamed, slamming into Jake’s back. Lo’ak and the others appeared seconds later, faces pale and terrified.

“Take everyone and take cover,” Jake ordered Neteyam. The oldest nodding and took charge.

Tuk clung harder, sobbing, but Neteyam managed to pull her away. The children disappeared into the moving crowd.

Jake hauled you upright, one arm locked around your bicep when your legs faltered. When you stumbled again he shifted, dragging your arm over his shoulders and lifting you partly off the ground by the waist to support you.

He followed the evacuation in a downward spiral, shouting orders as you moved. The air grew cooler, damp with earth and roots overhead thick enough to muffle worst of the explosions.

The crowd thinned out into the narrow tunnel. Jake raised his free hand, signaling separation. Spread out. Move deeper. Hide. As the tunnels split off, so did the people.

“I thought they’d killed you,” he said between breaths.

Emotion slammed into you so hard it almost stole your voice.

“They tried,” you whispered.

The ground shook violently again and your foot slipped. Pain shot up your leg. You would have fallen if he hadn’t tightened his grip.

He pulled you down to sit against the cavern wall, waving the others ahead.

He reached for your leg, fingers pressing carefully along it. You flinched away. Dark bruises mottled your skin. Finger marks. Restraint burns.

His eyes went dark.

“Who did this to you?”

You shook your head quickly. “Later. I can move.”

He didn’t let you stand.

“Who?” he pressed. “Quaritch?”

Another tremor rattled the cavern. You grabbed his arm, panic rising.

“Not his style. There’s more. But I’ll tell you later.”

Later never came.

The moment you stepped out into the night, you were surrounded.

Gunshots took out more of those behind you. Others ran back into the tunnels. Some unlucky few were dragged out into the night with you.

Floodlights snapped on. Weapons raised. RDA soldiers closed in from every direction. Behind them, lay the Na’vi who had exited before you, bodies still, queues severed with brutal efficiency. Lessons from the Mangkwan.

At the sight, Jake roared, lunging against the AMPs restraining him.

A larger suit stepped forward. Metal upon metal. Built for war.

“Well,” the radio crackled, angling toward you. “There’s my favorite Na’vi. Told you I’d be seeing you again.”

Ice filled your veins.

“Come morning,” the voice continued casually, “every village you’ve ever known will be hit. Great intel, by the way.”

Jake went still. Eyes darting to you momentarily but going back to the enemy.

“The kids?” He demanded, voice breaking.

“Your offspring you mean? Safe, I presume. Kept caged with the other children. We have something else in mind for them.” The AMP stepped closer. “And by the time we’re done, they won’t even know who you are.”

The second Jake was roaring, “I’ll kill you!” He was being punched square in the face.

Then again. And again when Jake looked back up at him to snarl.

You struggle against your restraints and scream at them.

“Stop! Please, stop!”

The AMP turned toward you. A massive metal hand clamped around your throat and dragged you upright. Your feet barely touched the ground.

“Be grateful I’m not throwing you to the animals behind.” The voice said. “You might still have a use.”

You clawed at the metal fingers, vision swirling.

Jake snarled again and was backhanded across the face.

Both of you were dragged toward the aircraft.

As you were thrown inside and the ship lifted, you caught one last glimpse of the hometree. Blazing beneath you.

Flames licked along the bark. More aircrafts circled above like predators. Burning and blasting away everything you'd ever loved about that place.

“Why not?” You challenged, and you hated the way your voice trembled. Hated that he could hear it.

You resisted the urge to step back. It would be pointless. All you would do was hit the cold metal wall behind you and prove how easy it was to make you fold. He didn’t stop.

His tail flicked once, agitated, the tip snapping in the air. He kept walking like he planned to walk right through you, and you lasted exactly two seconds before you folded. Your heel slid back. Then again.

Your spine and tail met the wall with a soft thump.

He was so close now you could feel the heat of him. His breath rushed over you. Your heart raced; traitorous and confused. Fear and longing tangled together until you couldn’t parse the two.

Jake’s hand slammed against the wall beside your head.

The metallic thud shot through your bones and you froze.

“Because I know what you did,” He snapped.

That was all it took.

Your stomach dropped so fast it made your head spin. The air left your lungs and refused to come back. For a moment you couldn’t even speak, because the past you had tried so hard to bury was suddenly here. Between you. Breathing.

“Please,” You begged, the word breaking apart as it left you. “I can fix this. We can figure a way out and—”

“Are you listening to yourself?” Jake snarled. Teeth showing.

You went still. Completely still. Ears dipped down. Instinct told you not to move, not to push, not to give his anger anywhere else to land.

“There’s no fixing this,” He continued, voice rough. “There’s no we in this. There is no more us.”

The words hit harder than the wall had.

You licked your lips, trying to slow your breathing, but a small whimper escaped anyway. You couldn’t stop it.

“I didn’t know they’d do that.”

His expression twisted. Pain cutting through the anger. He pushed off the wall abruptly, like touching it burned him, and turned away from you. He walked to the other side of the cell, putting as much distance between you as the cramped space allowed.

It hurt more than if he’d shouted again.

“I swear!” You'd said, louder, desperation clawing up your throat. “I was thinking about us. About the clan. About everyone we care about. I thought… I thought if I gave them what they wanted, they’d leave you alone. I didn’t know they would use it to track the camps. I didn’t know people would—”

You choked.

Faces flashed behind your eyes. Smoke. Screams. The realization that your secret had become a weapon.

Your words died when he turned back. The anger was gone and that was somehow worse.

A broken man stood in front of you, shoulders heavy, eyes no longer sparkling under the harsh light. And you had no way to console him because you were the reason he looked like that.

“I would do anything for this family,” He croaked. “But I would never do that. I would never gamble lives like that.”

Guilt tore through you. Hot. Suffocating.

“What you did was unforgivable,” He said quietly. “There’s no coming back from that.”

Your knees gave out.

You slid down the wall until you were curled on the floor, legs pulled tight to your chest, arms wrapped around yourself like you could hold your insides together. The metal was cold through your skin. You barely felt it.

Nothing you said would fix this.

Nothing would bring back the lives lost because of a choice you made years ago, before you knew him. Before you knew what love really meant.

You loved him.

And you were starting to understand he might never love you back after this.

The cell went quiet after that.

Jake sat on one of the cots, head in his hands. His braid hung forward over his shoulder. You stayed where you were, as far away as possible, even though every part of you ached to crawl into his lap and hold him. To let him hold you.

You wouldn’t survive it if he pushed you away.

Lights out came for you both eventually. The overhead glow dimmed to a dull blue. You waited until his breathing evened out, until his shoulders stopped moving so much, before you forced your stiff legs to uncurl.

Every step toward your own cot felt like too much effort. You buried your face in the pillow, trying to stifle the sob that escaped. Your chest hurt. Your throat hurt. Everything hurt.

Then you felt him.

Arms around you were warm and solid. Familiar.

“I’m sorry, baby,” He murmured against your neck. “I’m so sorry I put that on you. I’m sorry I didn’t protect you.”

Relief flooded you so fast you almost gasped. You leaned into him, clutching his arm, afraid he might disappear.

The lights flickered back on. Bright and unforgiving. You opened your eyes and found yourself alone in your cot.

Turning over you saw Jake in his own bed. His back to you, unmoving. You sat up slowly and rubbed over your face. Your fingers came away damp. Old war paint stained your hand. The colors lost to time.

His ear twitched. Just once. Otherwise he didn’t move.

You didn’t know what was going to happen next. If there was even the smallest chance to fix this, you were going to have to do it.

Something impossible. Something crazy and reckless.

Author’s Note: this is the longest thing i've written and edited so far !! it's probably not as scandalous or exciting as a forbidden romance kinda story where they have to sneak around but i really really hope you all love it ! thank you to my twosin and spirit sister @junebugonjupiter for, once again, being the beta reader and for offering such great feedback and encouragement !

Na’vi to English Translations:

Atokirina': seeds of the great tree Pa’li: direhorse

“You better get back in time to get something done!” Trudy’s voice came loudly over the comms system. Air whipped violently around the Samson as its rotors slowed and the aircraft lowered to the ground. “I can lie, but the dusty schoolhouse can’t.” 

Jake grabbed your hand before you could bring it to your neck to answer, hastily pulling you out of the cargo hold. You stumbled, misjudging how far the ground was, and he pushed you ahead of him with a supportive palm. You caught him mid-eyeroll as you turned to wave to Trudy, who watched from the cockpit with her brow raised. You blew her a kiss before Jake took your hand again and led you past the schoolhouse, further into the forest. 

“Assholes,” her voice crackled in your ear, a smile in her voice. You laughed but Jake hastily shoved through the large, beautiful leaves of low hanging branches, the schoolhouse fading from view and from your mind. “You’ve got two hours. Don’t have too much fun.” 

Preferring to be in the sky, Trudy rarely stuck around after transporting you and Jake to the abandoned building. Though she usually stayed within comms’ reach in case you needed a quick escape, there was hardly any danger greater than a stingbat in the rafters. Plus, there wasn’t much Jake couldn’t handle on the ground. He was vigilant, despite the casual way he carried himself and his cheeky wisecracks that seemed to indicate otherwise. He was diligent when it mattered most, and very good at what he did. His silence, though, was uncharacteristic.

“Everything okay?” you inquired when he finally slowed down enough for you to walk beside him.

He tilted his chin down toward you, golden eyes sharp and full of annoyance. “Why did you tell her?”

“Jake, she saw us,” you explained, again. 

His brow pinched together as he helped you over a large, moss covered root. “You really couldn’t come up with anything?”

“And said what? That you were giving me CPR? Against a tree?” You asked and Jake grimaced before he sighed. 

Although you and Jake were careful to use the forest canopy for cover, there was a lot Trudy could apparently see from her high vantage point. So when she cornered you and asked, all she needed to see was the flush of your cheeks and the panic in your eyes to confirm her guess.

His grip on your hand tightened slightly. “Baby, what happened to keeping a tight lid on this? We’re jumping through a lot of hoops and lying to a lot of people. Now Trudy’s gonna have to do the same.” 

“Withholding the truth,” you corrected, a little too defensively and it was your turn to sigh. “I know, but I trust her, Jake.” 

You stated this as much for yourself as for him. Though you had known her for years, Jake’s concerns weren’t entirely unfounded. Trudy was known to push limits. Just that morning, she had not-so-innocently asked about your plans for the day at breakfast with a knowing smirk on her face. 

Despite her never ending teasing, it was better having her on your side. There was nobody more loyal than Trudy and it had been difficult keeping the secret from a close friend to both you and Jake. 

“I made her swear she wouldn’t tell a single soul,” you reassured, squeezing his bicep. “Don’t worry. Plus, isn’t it kind of nice that someone else knows?”  

He nodded, though the slight frown on his lips indicated discontent. You were still amazed by how well his human expressions translated so accurately on his Avatar. You had seen that exact look many times on his actual face. You planted a palliative kiss to his cheek, catching a corner of his downturned lips, before adding, “Better her than Grace, right?”

“Yeah,” Jake resigned, without much feeling. 

Leaning against his arm, your footsteps fell into sync as the sounds of the forest filled the silence between you. You already felt so revived with the fresh air filling your lungs and the sun warming your face. The vastness of the forest made you feel small and insignificant and free. Out here, you were away from the prying eyes of Hell’s Gate. 

It was almost impossible to find a private moment with Jake and the ones you were limited to were small and brief. He would wink across the breakfast table and smile a little too openly. Brush his hand along your thigh as he rolled by you in the hallways. Ask you to help him with his video camera just to be close to you. Linger on the edges of the Avatar compound grounds. But it was all too risky. Word spread quickly in Hell’s Gate and Grace could not know. 

Grace, who trusted you to fix up the schoolhouse in case relations with the Omatikaya improved with Norm’s efforts. Grace who assigned Jake to security to keep him out of their way. 

You would hear Jake’s boots crunch on the ground just beyond the schoolhouse doors and windows as you tidied up the space. Each engrossed in the job you were given, you were practically still strangers at that point.  

It was only after you had screamed one day, dropping slate boards with a loud clatter, that Jake came running in, gun at the ready. His sharp eyes found you ducked under a table as stingbats, purple-blue with yellow markings and four eyes that made you uneasy, darted around, screeching. Jake had dealt with the stingbats by waving his arms, yelling and hitting things to scare them away. If you hadn’t been so spooked, you would have laughed. 

After he had driven them out, Jake returned to help you from your hiding place. He crouched before you, unshaken, with genuine concern in his eyes. The strength of his hand calmed your nerves as he said, “The coast is clear.” 

Jake had made sure you were okay before he looked around quietly, peering at the rafters guardedly as you resumed your task. “What happened here?” He asked, running his fingers along the bullet holes littered in the walls. The only remaining proof that a violent tragedy had struck the unassuming building. 

Jake frowned deeply as you recounted the conflict between the RDA and the Omatikaya youth that led to death and mistrust. The Omatikaya learned all they had needed to about the wretched “sky people” and wanted nothing more to do with them. Loss echoed in the classroom where children’s laughter once rang. He stared a long time at the gun in his hands before putting it down, offering to help repair the walls and the hole in the ceiling.     

What started as collaboration bloomed into so much more. Together, new planks of wood were nailed into place as you talked and laughed at Jake’s attempts to show off. He had even climbed onto the roof, almost falling multiple times, as you watched in horror, yelling up at him to be careful. Somehow in the midst of it all, Jake had secured his place in your heart like he secured shingles to the roof. With care, intention, and devotion. 

Soon each visit to the schoolhouse held the promise of his touch and adventure. In the past few weeks, you had spent less and less time at the school and more time with Jake, exploring the forest. Now, the sound of the river met your ears and stirred excitement within you. It meant you were close to your destination. This time you tugged on Jake’s arm, picking up your pace. Glancing back at him you called, “Race you there!” 

A devilish smile broke across his face at the challenge and he pulled your tail before tearing past you. “Hey!” you yelped, but he just laughed heartily, looking over his shoulder occasionally with a twinkle in his eye. 

Jake unceremoniously dumped his things on the bank of the river, shedding his clothes as he climbed up the ledge and toward the waterfall. You followed behind, discarding your gear alongside his and scrambled up after him. You knew you could never beat him, but you always tried, and you were always rewarded.  

Once you heaved yourself up the final ridge Jake grabbed your wrist and pulled you into him, commencing a barrage of kisses over any exposed skin he could reach. “We don't have much time!” you got in as his lips chased yours.    

“Trudy can wait,” Jake mumbled, wrapping his arms tightly around you as he moved you both toward the edge. He didn’t give you a second to process the danger of the situation before his lips met yours, kissing you deeply and tenderly. Any thoughts that weren’t of him fled your mind, just as the breath left your lungs. Your eyes fluttered shut and you dug your fingers into his shoulders, returning the gesture.  

He broke away after a long moment only to languidly press his lips along your jaw. You tried to get loose as his feet shuffled closer to the edge, but he didn’t budge. You glanced down at the water below as his lips found your neck. You panicked, hands pressing against his chest frantically, “Don’t you dare push me!”  

He sighed and his head lolled. “Worth a try,” he chuckled into your skin before spinning around so that he took your precarious spot near the drop-off. Your heart raced, but it had more to do with the man holding you than the sheer drop just a few steps away. His smile was boyish and wild when he finally withdrew and you felt your lips curving up to match.   

Jake shook off his boots and tore off his socks, which he threw at you, laughing as you swatted them down. “Watch this,” he said, turning and hurling himself down into the river without hesitation. You cheered at the impressive splash that followed his cannonball. 

He remerged, shaking the water from his face and hair, grinning like a fool. “Come on, baby!” Jake called from below, waving you down. “You can do it!”

He whooped as you ran and pushed off the ledge with your bare feet. You felt weightless as the air rushed past you, catching in the fabric of your clothes and in your hair like you were flying. But the feeling came to an abrupt end as you plunged into the cold water. You kicked to the surface, gasping and blinking and looking around for Jake. 

Arms encircled you from behind and you squealed as he attempted to dunk you back under. You yelped and scrambled to wrap your arms around his neck, chests touching and legs kicking to keep afloat. “I think my splash was bigger than yours,” you said, breathlessly. 

He laughed, pressing his forehead against yours. “In your dreams.”

The afternoon passed quickly, filled with more laughing and splashing, racing and jumping, floating lazily on your backs and basking in the sun. You treaded to catch your breath after Jake nearly drowned you again, when something wispy drew your attention as it floated just above the surface of the water. You gasped as a woodsprite hovered right before your eyes.  

“Jake, don’t move,” you said slowly, trying not to blink or breathe. He froze at your command and looked over at you with his brow raised. “Look,” you exclaimed quietly, “It's an atokirina', a seed from the Tree of Souls! I never thought I would ever see one with my own eyes!”

“Is it alive?” He asked, following the woodsprite’s subtle movements with his eyes as it danced between you.  

“I think so. The Na’vi say they are pure and sacred spirits. They often act as signs from their god Eywa, a sign of favor…” you explained, taking in the details of the delicate and revered seed. 

“Huh,” Jake mused and you briefly glanced at him, seeing the thoughtful tilt of his head. The strands of hair that usually hung over his forehead lay messily against it. He smiled softly at you when his eyes found yours.

Just as you looked back, the sprite whipped away and you lost sight of it as the water around you began to stir, rushing by with increasing strength. There was a loud rumbling over the ridge of the falls that filled the air. Jake’s playful expression sharpened into focus as his ears perked toward the sound. He grabbed your arm and attempted to pull you toward the bank.

The last thing you saw was Jake’s wide eyes and his lips forming your name, before water crashed down on you, ripping your arm from his grasp. Submerging you fully, you were swept away by the violent onslaught. All you could see was murkiness swirling around you as your limbs tangled in the tide. You made out lily pads as they hung suspended in the water, drowning alongside you.

Water filled your mouth and stung your nose as you gasped for air at the surface, fighting against the strong current. Frantically, you glanced around for Jake, your heart and the rushing stream roaring loudly in your ears. Where could he be?

“Y/n!” His voice came from a distance away and you whipped around, trying to find its source. 

“Jake!” you yelled, struggling to keep your head above the swell of the river. 

“Y/n!” 

Your limbs began to ache and you called out to him weakly as the current began to slow, but there was no response. None came when you tried again, and again. It was hard to breathe as fear gripped your heart. Everything blurred together and you gasped for air, repressing the hysteria that threatened to bubble over. 

You didn’t recognize the forest around you. You were alone. Jake was alone. Jake. He couldn’t be far, could he? You’ve never been in the forest alone. Not without Jake. You had to find Jake. Was he hurt? Was he lying face down in the water with no one to rescue him?

From within your haze of dismay, you somehow spotted a branch within arm’s reach. You swam over to it with the last of your strength with a shudder. A sharp stinging pain sliced through the sole of your foot as you struggled to find purchase on the rocks below. Hissing, you grasped the branch and pulled yourself out of the water. You crawled with heavy limbs onto the grassy bank, collapsing onto your stomach. Despite the fear that had been coursing through your veins, your body sagged, sinking into the ground as the tension melted into a bone-deep weariness. Your eyes fell shut and darkness overtook you with an unsettling feeling of weightlessness. 

Oh, Jake, where are you?  

An unknown amount of time passed, minutes, maybe hours, before you heard him. Jake’s heavy steps grew near before his hand touched your shoulder. 

“Y/n. Baby.” He sounded afraid. 

You opened your eyes slowly and found his, searching and overflowing with relief. The drops of water that clung to his lashes might have been tears. You fought the urge to cry as Jake gathered you in his arms, holding you until the heartbeat in his chest steadied beneath your ear. 

“You okay?” He breathed out into your hair, hands smoothing down your body to check that all of you was still intact. 

“I-I think so,” your voice trembled and hitched as you laid a hand on his cheek. “Are you?” 

“I am now.” Jake pulled you impossibly closer. His warmth seeped into your skin and you melted into his strong embrace. Strong and safe, and very much alive. After a moment, you convinced yourself you weren’t dreaming, and blinked away the heaviness that threatened to keep your eyes closed. 

You wanted nothing more than to go back to the compound now that you were reunited. But as you reached up to call Trudy, thinking how convenient it was that she knew about you and Jake, you found your neck bare. You lurched up and checked again with both hands. “Oh no.” 

“I don't have mine either. Tried calling you.” Jake shook his head, and your heart sank. You could picture where they both laid in the grass somewhere far away. 

“Here’s the plan. We’ll go back, get our things and let Trudy know we’re heading back,” Jake continued calmly while panic began to rise in your chest. His hands moved to cradle your face, before asking, “You good to go?”

You nodded, leaning into his touch. “We’re going to be so late, Jake.”

“Then let’s get a move on,” he said, a small, encouraging smile on his face.

He helped you up with a hand under your elbow but the pressure on your foot made your knee buckle as pain shot up your leg. You hissed as Jake caught you and you brought the gash on the sole of your foot into view. 

“Aye,” Jake breathed with a wince, moving to support you better. “Here.” 

“I have a first aid kit in my pack,” you said, and he nodded.  

With your arm slung across his shoulders, you attempted to limp beside him. But after a few slow steps Jake stopped and moved in front of you, saying, “Hop on.” 

“Are you sure?” you hesitated. 

“We’re never gonna get anywhere with your foot like that.” He lowered himself slightly so you could climb onto his back. His hands held you under your knees and you clung onto him. Your chest pressed against his back, the wet shirt that clung to your skin acting as the only barrier between your bodies. You moved his kuru so it rested over your shoulder, the heavy braid hanging just beside yours. The touch of his skin made you shiver and you wondered if Jake could feel your heart racing. 

“You’re okay. I’ve got you.”  He squeezed your thigh before setting off. 

Jake expertly tracked his way up stream, taking care not to jostle you as he navigated through the forest. The river was calm as it flowed beside you with no trace of the massive and turbulent wave that had taken you captive in its current. You were thinking to ask one of the hydrologists how such a crazy occurrence could possibly be normal when Jake came to an abrupt stop.

“Crap,” he muttered under his breath, squatting to set you down. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

You were back at the waterfall but there was nothing where you had discarded your clothes, packs, comms, and his gun. Just the sparkling grass and a perfect picture of an untouched landscape. 

“The water must’ve washed it all away,” you said, exasperated and leaning against the tree as Jake searched around the river's edge. He quickly retraced your path up toward the waterfall, hopeful to find his shoes but shook his head when he reemerged. 

“It’s all probably somewhere downstream,” Jake said with a scowl, jaw tight.

“What do we do?” You asked, chewing at your lip.

He sighed and shook his head as he moved closer, reaching up to smooth your lip from between your teeth with his thumb. His words were as soft as his touch, “It would be a waste of time to go looking. And we’re burnin’ daylight.”

“So we should just head back…” you followed his train of thought. 

“As fast as we can,” he nodded, looking at the sun’s position in the sky. “I can’t protect you out here, not in the dark.”

“But are you going to be okay?” You asked, realizing that the dampness of his skin was perspiration and no longer river water. “It’s a long way back and it can’t be easy to carry me.” 

“A piece of cake, you’re as light as a feather.” His smile was so charming it almost masked the worry in his eyes. 

He turned and held out his arms for you to climb back on. When he straightened you nestled your cheek against the side of his head, tucking your chin against his neck. His broad shoulders shifted under your arms as he began almost effortlessly back to the schoolhouse. Your legs swung slightly with his movement and you mused thankfully, “Who needs a pa’li when I have you.” 

“What’s that?” he asked, sidestepping through a narrow gap between trees.

You thrummed your fingers against his chest as you said, “A horse.” 

He laughed, “Anything for you, baby.” 

—

The evening sun filtered through the leaves and everything glowed golden even as the threat of eclipse closed in. Jake mindlessly smacked the flora as he went, admiring the world he was still so new to in his own way. His tail bumped into yours a couple times, but he was quiet, focused on trekking through the forest safely. His ears twitched at every sound and you felt that his muscles beneath your body were tense. 

The sharp pain in your foot had dulled to a throb and your mind drifted to what would be waiting for you at the schoolhouse. You were sure to get an earful, if not from Trudy, from Grace back at Hell’s Gate. The issue was how you would explain your injury and the loss of all your gear to everyone else at the compound. Since Trudy was now in on your secret, you and Jake could likely sneak back into the longhouse with her help. But how much would Jake be okay with Trudy knowing? His reaction from earlier nagged at you.

“Doin’ okay back there? Your foot hurting?” Jake broke the silence and turned his head towards yours, peaking at you out of the corner of his eye. You shook your head even though it did, other pressing matters taking precedence.

“I’m sorry Trudy found out,” you said quietly and you felt his sigh. “She likes to tease us, but she never means any harm. She’s always been like that. She’ll never tell.” 

He nodded. “I know.”

“Does it really bother you that she knows?” 

A subtle frown tugged at his lips as he considered. “No,” he answered after a long pause. “It doesn’t.”

“Then why were you so…?”

“Our little covert operation was your idea,” Jake reminded, with a little edge in his voice. 

“I know, but–”

“But Grace hates me,” he recited, like it was a well-known fact, words overlapping yours. You winced. 

“She doesn’t hate you, she’s just frustrated. It's not your fault,” you hurried out, guiltily. “But if she knew we were together, slacking off like this…”

“You’re worried about that?” he asked, incredulous. 

“You’re not?” your brow furrowed. 

“But it’s okay that Trudy knows.” 

“I mean, it’s not ideal.” 

“Not ideal.” His laugh was mirthless and his fingers drummed on the underside of your leg. He added more softly, “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me and you want to keep it a secret.” 

The urge to cry overtook you for the second time that day. “Put me down, Jake,” you requested gently, but he kept walking. You tried again, more firmly, “Please put me down.” 

“Not on that foot,” he answered flatly. 

“I’m serious,” you said, retracting your arms from around his neck. 

“So am I.”

“Jake.” 

He stood still and his arms slackened, allowing you to slide down. Keeping a hand on his arm you steadied yourself on one foot, moving to see his face. You were surprised that he didn't avoid you, his eyes landing on yours with an openness that revealed a deep hurt masked by a reluctant acceptance. 

“I thought you were okay with this,” you frowned, heart aching at the resigned expression on his handsome face. 

“Sure, it was fun at first, sneaking around,” he started and sighed, “But, y/n, we’re blue and in the middle of nowhere. You call this a date? I can't even take you out, I can't treat you right. You deserve more than that… We both deserve more than that.” 

“Why…Why didn’t you say anything?” You asked slowly. 

“Because I know why. You told me why, and it makes sense. ‘Everything is everyone’s business at Hell’s Gate.’ It’s hard to keep secrets.” Emotion rose in his voice and he swallowed it down. “But it makes me wonder... Why do we care? Why are we trying so hard? What are we so afraid of?” 

He let the questions hang in the air, his brow lifted and his arms stretched wide. “Let them know. Let them talk.” 

A pit formed in your stomach as he spoke. You didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t sound selfish. Deep down, you knew it had all been selfish. It hadn’t been fair to ask this of him, but you were afraid. 

Your aunt’s presence loomed large over your life. Her approval had meant everything to you since arriving on Pandora at such a young age. She was the closest thing you had to a mother here, so far from earth. Not only was she incredibly protective, she also had the power to separate you and Jake if she really wanted to. But would you lose Jake anyway if you let that fear control you? Had it already blinded you? 

He shook his head at your lack of reply, looking defeated. “It doesn’t matter. We gotta get you back.” He gestured to your foot, which was the farthest thing from your mind. Not when you and your stupid fears were the reason Jake was standing in front of you, convincing himself that how he felt didn’t matter. 

The ache in your heart deepened as you looked down to see Jake’s bare feet were scraped and bleeding. He hadn’t uttered a single complaint about it, his treasured second chance damaged for your sake. You crumpled, sinking to your knees and you attempted to wipe the dirt from his feet, even as tears blurred your vision. 

“It does matter, I’m so sorry,” you sputtered wetly, all the pent up emotion from the day suddenly pouring out of you. You curled into yourself as you sobbed and let your head fall, forehead almost pressing into the ground beneath you. 

“Woah, woah, woah,” he exclaimed, crouching down and gently slid a hand under your jaw, guiding your head back up. He cocked his head to the side and tucked a rogue strand of hair behind your ear as he tried to meet your eyes. “I’m the sad one here, aren’t I? Shouldn’t I be the one crying?” 

“You’re hurt,” you wept, eyes downcast. 

“Baby, I’m fine, just a couple of scratches,” Jake reassured. “I’ve been through worse.” 

You sighed and ignored his attempts at humor. “You’re hurting and I didn’t even know,” you lamented softly. You looked up as tears ran down your cheeks and pooled in the hollow of your throat. “Jake, I’m so sorry.” 

“Don’t cry. It’s okay.” He wiped your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs, leaving his hands in their new spot on either side of your face. 

“No, it isn’t, you deserve better” you pouted, wrapping your fingers around his wrists. “I’ve been afraid my whole life,” you took a breath, “but not like today… We could have died, Jake…and it makes me feel like I’ve been scared over nothing this whole time.” 

“I wouldn’t say nothing, your aunt is pretty scary,” he offered.

“Not as scary as being alone in the river, not knowing up from down, or where you were,” you said sincerely, whispering the next part, “I was so afraid. I’ve never been that afraid.”  

“Me too,” Jake admitted, his voice soft and his eyes glassy. “The thought of losing you…” 

Your heart simultaneously swelled and twinged at his confession. New tears pricked your eyes as you pushed his arms out of the way to wrap your own around him, knocking him off balance and onto his backside. You sniffled, “I’m sorry that I made you feel like I was ashamed. I’m not.” 

He let out a shaky breath as he brought his arms up to hold you, squeezing tightly. You whispered just below his ear, “Someone has taught me a lot about what it means to be brave. And I think it’s time that I was brave for him.”

—

Jake was mid-run and mid-laugh when he broke through to the clearing, you still perched on his back, but what you saw stopped him cold. 

Grace’s Avatar sat on the steps of the school, her long arms folded on top of her knees. Trudy leaned against the railing and the concern etched on her face transformed into a mixture of relieved guilt when she spotted you approaching.  

Trudy’s sigh of relief alerted Grace to your arrival. And as she stood with fire in her eyes, Trudy mouthed from behind her, “I tried.” 

Jake’s steps were slow and his grip on your legs tightened. You didn’t think you would have to be so brave so soon and you resisted your instinct to hide behind him. 

“…Hi, Aunt Grace,” you winced. 

Your aunt was silent the whole way back to Hell’s Gate, and your nerves made you shake. Jake's hand was a steadying force where it rested on your leg, even if the sight of it made Grace’s nostrils flare. Now you stood beside Jake in the SciMod among the link units, victims to Grace’s tirade.

“This is unacceptable,” her angry voice pierced through the air. Pointing her cigarette at you and Jake, she interrogated, “Is it really so difficult to do your damn job?” 

“I got her back safe, didn’t I?” Jake confidently countered and your jaw dropped at his gall. You knew not to answer, not while she was so riled up, not when her question was so obviously rhetorical. 

Grace scoffed, her searing gaze full of disbelief. “Safe? You call walking through the forest unarmed and in nothing but your underwear, safe? Now you listen here, marine…”

You glanced down at Jake as Grace’s chastising remarks continued and found he was already looking at you. He looked unaffected by her words. There was even laughter in his eyes and the way his lips pressed together. You knew her words held truth, but you couldn’t help but giggle at the absurdity of it all. Bitting into your cheek to stop it from escaping, your head snapped forward at the sound of your name.

“…And you, young lady,” Grace continued, genuine worry tinging her voice. “Do you understand how dangerous and stupid…”

This went on for a long time and as each minute passed, you felt more and more like the children Grace accused you of being. Especially as you shared looks and stifled laughs until she lost steam, exasperatedly storming out of the room with a migraine. 

Jake’s laugh rang out in the air, breaking the tension filled silence Grace left in her wake. You met his crinkled eyes as he turned his chair toward you, and you found yourself devolving into a laughter that made you bend over in pain. 

“That wasn’t so bad,” he said when you finally caught your breaths. You were surprised to find that you agreed. There would surely be consequences, your Aunt would see to that, but you would face them together. Just as you had that day. 

Jake pulled you into his lap and the smile on his face made it all worth it. No more hiding and no more fear.

Wainfleet’s eyes eventually land on me, eyes widening in recognition. His mouth transforms into a sickening smile. 

“Mrs. Sully, nice party trick. But your little forest friends won’t save you or your paramour.” His tone is antagonistic and demeaning. I just want to rip that smug look off of his face. 

Hissing in response “I’m going to be the last thing you see before I scalp your ugly bald head!”

He snarls, but before he can lift his gun to aim, the arrow that lies waiting in my bow releases. Striking the glass panel of the AMP suit, cracking the glass. The precious oxygen starts to escape from his suit. In a moment of panic, he rushes to put on his mask. His panicked movement causes the glass screen to eject, leaving him vulnerable. Unfortunately, his gun fires, spraying bullets everywhere. I manage to dodge most of them, twisting and turning my lithe body. In spite of this, two bullets graze along my left thigh and right bicep. 

A sharp sting erupts from where I was hit, warm blood trails down my legs and arms. Adrenaline courses through my veins as I make a mad dash out of the gun's range. I draw back my bow again, breathing in very strong and aiming true. The arrow makes a loud THUNK as it sinks into Wainfleets chest. His breath staggers as the AMP suit falls to its metal knees in a loud clang.

I approach his amp suit carefully. His hands are grasping the arrow, trying to pull it out. The burning pain of my injuries start to increase, but I don’t let myself falter. This must be done. His eyes, full of fear, gaze up into mine, full of fury. I unsheathe the dagger carefully from its home on my chest. 

I lean my head close, my mouth next to his ear. “Goodnight, Wainfleet”, I spit out. The dagger slices across his throat, rivulets of thick blood pours down his neck. He gargles for a moment then stops. His eyes go cloudy, and his jaw slackens. I jump out of the way when the AMP suit collapses into a heap on the grass. A loud breath escapes me as the pain starts to become unbearable, the adrenaline now wearing off. 

Fuck! Fuck! FUCK! 

Jake is going to reem my ass if he finds out I’ve been hurt. He only let me leave the Tree of Souls because I promised I'd be away from the action. Doing recon from afar. Fuck, he’s going to be so mad. I lied and got hurt. I can’t let him know. 

Anger flares in my chest at the thought. I don’t know why he can’t trust me! I am strong and capable. He looks at me like I’m fragile, that I’ll just break if anything touches me! I'm sick of it. I am strong in this form. A skilled warrior, I have been taught by Tsu’tey. The Olo'eyktan! 

“Whirlwind, Whirlwind do you read?” Jake's voice cuts through from my ear piece, causing my ear to twitch.

Shit, speak of the devil. I press my fingers to the comms on my neck. “Yes Jake, I’m here” I say breathlessly, trying not to moan from the stinging emanating from my wounds. I turn the comms off momentarily to hiss in pain. I even out my breathing, “I’m here” I say, voice strong.

“What’s going on?” He replies roughly, concern lacing his voice. 

“The forest animals are fighting back, Eywa has heard you my Jake. Most of the RDA ground teams are down” I reply, my voice giving nothing away. 

“Okay, fall back. Go to the Tree of Souls. I have to deal with Quaritch's plane” He responds, none the wiser. 

“I can help, I’m on m–” 

“No, fall back. That’s an order” he barks as he cuts me off. 

“But–” 

“Don’t make me repeat myself!” he yells as he cuts me off, again.

I hiss in anger, “Copy that, Whirlwind over and out” my voice is laced in venom as I reply.

“Baby, don’t be like that please” He begs, voice coarse. I don’t respond, far too angry to deal with him right now. He doesn’t try again. Probably annoyed or in the middle of a battle. 

My attention is drawn to the present when the pain becomes too much to ignore. I look down, blood coats my left leg and right arm. Shit, I need to stop the bleeding before I become too weak. 

I look around at my surroundings. I find a Yalna tree nearby, I remember Mo’at mentioning the bark stops bleeding. Shuffling my way slowly over to the tree, I use my dagger to cut at the bark. Taking only what I need. I use a long thin leaf to keep the bark on my wounds, wrapping it around my thigh and arm. Hoping it will stem the bleeding soon. 

I call for my Ikran, Tempest, a series of yips and clicks escape my mouth. She descends from the forest canopy and lands next to me. Roaring and growling as she does. “Tam tam Tempest, mawey” I whisper lovingly. “Take me to the sky” I made tsaheylu and hopped onto the saddle. 

We lift off, together as one. Our hearts are beating strongly. We both soar through the sky, heading back to the Tree of Souls.

---------------

After the battle was won, the remaining Omatikaya gathered at the Tree of Souls. Songs and dances of victory surround me as I weave my way through the crowd. As well as the wails of families who had lost their own. It’s hard to feel vindicated, not when so much death surrounds us all. 

I find bits of coloured fabric, wrapping one around my waist, like a sarong, to cover the wound on my thigh. Doing the same around my shoulder to conceal the injury there. I do my best not to limp, but every time I take a step – it feels like liquid fire emanating from my thigh. 

I find Jake amongst the crowd, Neytiri next to him. I walk as nonchalantly as I can towards them. His eyes are searching the crowd, looking for something. As soon as they land on me a smile graces his face. He’s so handsome when he smiles. A small blush rosies my cheeks at the thought.  

He rushes over to me, wrapping me in his strong arms and squeezing tightly. I can’t help the whine of pain that leaves my throat. Shit. He unwraps his arms around me, his hands resting on my shoulders. Eyes scanning me up and down, looking for anything amiss. 

“What was that? Are you hurt?” He voices in concern.

“N-no I’m not, you just squeezed me too tight.” I started to sweat, I was never good at lying. Jake always manages to see through me. His eyes squint as he looks at me unconvinced. His ears pinned back and tail lashing. 

“Why are you wearing this?” his hands fists the fabric around my shoulders. 

“Hey! Let go, I was cold” I bark back. In fact, the weather was so warm, it was impossible to feel cold. The sheer amount of dancing bodies made sure of that. He carefully takes off the fabric around my shoulder. I don’t bother stopping him, unable to maintain the charade. 

My ears flatten against my head as I look down, too afraid to meet his eyes. “Baby, how did this happen? You were supposed to stay away from the action” His eyes are filled with worry, but his tone is hinted with annoyance. 

I sigh, shoulders raising and deflating at the action. There is no point in lying anymore. 

“I didn’t do recon, I can’t just sit back and watch. You should know this! I am more useful involved in the fight than out of it!” My voice started to raise, earning attention from the surrounding people. Including Neytiri. She starts to head over to where Jake and I are.

“I am a strong warrior, I have passed my Iknimaya and Uniltaron. I killed many RDA soldiers, including Wainfleet.” My hands are shaking at this point. Unsure if it's from rage or blood loss. Neytiri places a hand on my shoulder. “Mawey, breathe”. I follow her instructions and take a deep breath in, and exhale out slowly. Jake's brows are furrowed, unsure if he should be angry, sad or proud. 

“Jake, she is right. She has a strong heart and an even stronger will. You must trust her” 

I look at him expectantly, waiting for him to say something. His eyes are darting between Neytiri and I, unsure how to proceed. He sighs deeply. 

“I’m just…” He starts, finding it hard to express how he feels. Jake has always struggled with this. Opening up is rare.

“I am so scared of losing you… You mean the world to me. If something were to happen and I wasn't there–” He stops, voice cracking towards the end. He looks down, ears flattening against his head, and his tail wraps itself around his calf. As if trying to soothe himself.

“My Jake, I don’t die that easily. You have to believe in me, as I believe in you.” I lift his head up by his chin and look into his eyes. I show him a small smile. “Oel ngati kameie Jake” I whisper softly. I place my forehead against his, wanting to comfort him, and myself. 

He breathes out slowly, our breaths intertwining. “Oel ngati kameie, I love you sweetheart”. He leans in and places his lips gently on mine. I smile into the kiss and place my good arm on his shoulder. 

Neytiri steps back, allowing us the space to reconcile. A smile on her face, happy that her students have reunited.   

I lean back, and look into his golden eyes. “Now, take me to Mo’at.” 

“Yes Ma’am” he says, winking in response. 

I roll my eyes, “C’mon big boy, lets go.”

@uzmacchiato

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it... As I said, this is my first ever fan fiction that I have written, and also published online. I want to thank @junebugonjupiter again for all their help. As well as @pinkpeonyabyss for responding to my ask with helpful tips for writing.

Lots of love,

darkblue