#metkayina!reader

Being the eldest daughter of the olo’eyktan came with many demands, and a lot of training. With that belonging came new challenges, and a good deal of pressure.

It had been weeks since the Sully’s had last sought and received uturu from the Metkayina reef people. As your siblings grew friendships with the newcomers, you fell short—hardly able to spend time with them as your duties and training kept you away.

Trust that you understood your position all too well. You must be fierce, do not fret, show no weakness as you will one day become a strong, spiritual matriarch just like your mother.

Atleast, it’s what your father’s always told you.

Your role as Tsakarem often keeps you from making your own decisions, leaving the important things to your parents. But the moment you saw Neteyam, your mind expanded.

His honey gold eyes, his smooth, dark blue skin, and his lively braids—it all made your stomach whirl.

You’d sneak off at night to see him, it was easy when everyone, even the group thought you two just didn’t like each other. Your ambivalence only grew when you thought of the reactions your parents would give if they’d ever found out.

The night he began to secretly court you was full of complexity, but excitement. You’d never even thought of rebelling against your parents’ strict and robust morals.

You sit cross legged beside your mother in the large, main marui pod, rolling herbs into pastilles and studying new tree sap recipes for healing.

“How is it going, daughter?” She asks, moving to crouch over you and superintend your work.

“Mm” You hum softly, it is all you can manage to do when you are as focused as you are now. Your body shifts, giving her space so that she can observe closely without putting too much pressure on herself.

The distant sound of yipping causes your attention to shift to the flaps of the pod entry, observing through the slight gaps between them; your siblings and the Sully children, leaping from the council platform and into the sea—which you loved. so much.

“Daughter,” Your mother calls, her voice cutting through your thoughts. “Focus.” her hands crush the rest of the herbs that you had sort of abandoned.

“Mother, may I go to the water?”

“We are almost done here.”

“Tsireya and Ao’ get to do whatever they want.”

“No, they have been assigned to educate the Sully’s. They are working hard too, with just opposite tasks.”

Your arms cross and your head tilts, it has been weeks since they arrived. What more could they possibly be learning? “It has been weeks, they know what they’re doing.”

Your mother sighs, her hands stopping their movements. “Really? Tuktirey is still young. She needs more attention, more attention means more lessons.”

You grumble as she puts the herbs and bowls away to sit beside you, holding your hand and sitting up straight, her legs criss crossed—she teaches you to listen for signs, to understand the connection between the people and our deity. And to teach others what you have learned, so that you can pass your knowledge down to your sister and other young clan members.

Eclipse comes faster than you’d anticipated, but it does not bother you, it only means you’ll get to see Neteyam.

Your mother dismisses you after long hours of training, while skipping through the village, you spot Tsireya, Aonung, and the Sully kids, returning from the water.

“Sister!” She rushes forward, grabbing your arms and smiling. “Where have you been? You should have joined us, it was fun. Please, join us tomorrow.”

“Yes, I will. Go comb your hair, it will be knotted from all of the swimming you’ve done. Make sure to…”

Tsireya’s eyes roll playfully, her hands letting out of yours. “I know, I know.” She laughs and runs to the main pod, you watch her go for a minute before approaching the Ilu pens where Neteyam is storing away the reins and saddles. watching him silently through the woven saddle racks, you pick up the rest of them.

“I can feel your eyes.” He smirks teasingly, leaning down to look back at you.

“I know,” You shake your head, fighting back a giggle. “We have not spoken in days.” Your smile falters briskly, hands ceasing before moving again, slower this time.

His smirk is wiped away instantly, he hangs the saddles up and moves quickly to stand before you. “I’m sorry, it’s hard when everyone thinks we hate each other. I don’t want them to suspect anything either, it could cost you your position.”

A sigh you’d been holding back escapes from your lips, “Then let’s go together—tonight, secretly. At the three brothers like usual.” You plead, hands dropped to your sides.

“Okay, yes.” His fingers hook gently around the rough fabrics that make up the guipu skirt which your mother weaved for you. “Come here, please”

“I will see you later.”

His eyebrows pinch together subtly, he’s never had to ask you to come here twice.

He watches you set off towards your pod, hands clenched tightly around his head. Neteyam knows that you’re angry. Why wouldn’t you be? He hasn’t even come close to your usual spot in weeks. No explanation. No apology. Just silence.

He snarls to himself, walking slowly to his family’s pod. Everyone is there, hooking up the hammocks and preparing for bed.

“Where have you been? C’mon, grab your stuff and hook it up. Let’s go.” Jake ushers him as soon as he steps into their dwelling, shaking his head marginally as he helps Tuk with hers.

“Yes sir.” He sets his hammock up right beside Lo’aks, his fingers moving steadily around the intricate weavings.

In your marui, your hammock is already set and ready to be slept in even though you won’t be using it. As you pick out your outfit for you and Neteyam’s meet up, your father comes in unexpectedly.

“Where are you going at this time, daughter?” His arms cross as he stands at the entrance, leaning against the wall.

“Nowhere. I am just planning for tomorrow's council meeting.”

He nods, moving towards the hammock which he shares with his mate. The rest of your family shuffles in, your brother being annoying as usual, snatching you and your sisters belongings and tugging at your long, black hair.

“Aonung! Stop!” You snap, snatching your hair from his grasp. Tsireya slaps him lightly across the head, leaping away soon after to lay in her hammock, laughing aloud.

“Quiet!” Your father hollers, rubbing the tip of his nose with his fingers in exasperation.

You quickly lay in your own nivi, your outfit suspiciously fancy for sleep. Your parents decide to make no comment, turning over and resting in each other's arms.

You wait up for everyone to doze until they finally do. You stand as quietly as you can, tiptoeing out of the domicile and running to the Ilu pens as soon as your feet meet the sand.

Neteyam is already there, prepared with food, water, and mats. Prepared in ways you hadn’t expected.

You keep your mouth shut the whole way there, it wasn’t hard to miss his gaze—he kept his eyes on your back the entire time, you could almost feel them bleeding through you.

At the three brothers, he dismounts and helps you onto the rocks. Neteyam sets up the mats, splaying the food and drinks around it. “Come on baby.” He says carefully, reaching for your hand, the other tapping a spot beside him.

You eye him for a beat before sitting down where his hand was. “What is it?”

“I’m apologizing. For not meeting with you.”

He reaches out, rubbing small circles on your shoulders.

“I just wish you’d have told me why you weren’t meeting with me. Can you?”

“I just didn’t want to be too obvious, my father and brother were catching onto my disappearance,”

“Oh. Well we can’t let that happen…”

“I know. I just want you to be happy. I know you love your people, and I know you’re ready to take on your mothers role.”

“Yeah.” You mumble, staring into the sea, hands holding his shoulders. You always had to remind yourself of your position, to keep you from being reckless—but you never had to worry around Neteyam.

His hands trail down your body, pulling you in by the waist and kissing your cheek gently. “We’ll figure it out. Let’s just enjoy this…hm?”

“Okay,” You whisper as you try the fresh pasuk he’d brung. “Mm” you hum, offering it to him.

Neteyam didn’t even eat much, just the food you offered. All he could do was smile as he watched you enjoy them,

“Come here,” He says, his voice a low whisper. “Closer.” You look up from the fruit in your mouth before scooting closer, the juices dripping down your chin.

He wipes away the juice that had been squeezed from the fruit, peppering your face in soft kisses, chuckling charmingly and pulling you into his lap to finally kiss your lips.

The kiss was gentle at first, slow, like he was trying to hold onto this moment. Your eyes shuttered closed, hands exploring his hair and braid pattern desperately.

“We need…” You breathe, pulling away for a second—your forehead against his. “We should get back. Soon.”

“Soon.” He repeats, continuing to kiss you, deeply this time. One hand tangled in your hair, while the other held your thigh, steadying you on his lap.

“Neteyam,” you gasp, tugging at his hair.

He continues for what feels like eternity, leaving sloppy kisses down your neck before pulling away. “Okay, okay.”

“We must get back.” You murmur between pants, hands adjusting your ruffled top, then moving to his hair—wiping it from his face.

He reserves the rest of the food he’d brought, storing it in the basket and standing, helping you up as he moved towards the ilu that was still there.

With his hands in yours, he sends you onto the creature gently, sitting behind you right after, his chest flush against your back, broad shoulders enveloping your shadow.

You ride back to the village, sharing soft laughs and mindless jokes with one another, when you reach the lagoon, you both fall silent—scattering around quickly, but quietly, as if hunting a meer deer or a fast fish.

You kiss him, a soft, sweet goodnight gesture. “I will see you tomorrow.”

“I hope so.” He smiles, pressing one last lingering kiss against your hair.

You tiptoe back to your marui as quietly as you could, removing the beautiful weavings that you had slipped into earlier and wearing more comfortable, satin ones.

When you drop the thick, heavy outfit you’d been wearing before, a shell that held the whole top together fell especially hard.

Your eyes shoot up immediately, just hoping your family didn’t hear the loud thud. Aonung stirs and then his head jerks directly towards you.

“What are you doing up?” He whispers loudly, standing spindly.

“None of your business." You snap sharply, moving to pick up the clothes.

“Ah, ah.” Aonung crouches down faster and holds your outfit up.

“Give it to me! You will wake mother and father.” You grit through your teeth.

“This smells like the Sully boy,” he taunts, waving the ioi around as if it were a toy.

“Aonung! Those are special beads,” you snatch the apparel from him, clutching the shells and beads it is adorned in.

“Then why were you wearing them out? Hmm?”

“None of your business! Go back to sleep. Now!” You slap his hand away, snarling sharply, hanging your clothing on your personal belongings rack that your father crafted for you, a symbol of familial love.

Aonung watches you silently, his gaze softening just a fraction. “Fine, sorry.”

You turn back, watching him lie down before reposing with a soft blanket from your childhood.

The next day is laced with duty and gathering—hunters, including Neteyam, his father, Lo’ak, Rotxo, your brother, your father, and several other young hunters among the metkayina vanished to amass the village's food preservation.

You are crouched beside your friends, heating stews and proteins which were prepared some days prior—maintained nourishments that are too difficult to find and cook all in one day.

As you wrap up the reheating, you join your mother for a quick ritual, then you hear of the hunters returning.

The men rounded up baskets of beast meat, seeds, fish, rich drinking water, and herbs for spices.

Your fingers wrap gently around the sash which the young warrior, Amak had given you. “Thank you, Amak—for these gifts.” You smile, passing the sash down to the line of women.

You turn to walk back to your marui, and as you do, two large hands wrap around your waist and pull you to a secluded area behind your home.

You gasp sharply before realizing it is Neteyam. Your breathing soothed and your eyes softened. “You scared me,”

“I’m sorry yawne” He laughs, kissing your cheeks carefully.

“Careful, Teyam…” You whispered softly, “someone will see us.”

“I’m tired of keeping this a secret.” His voice was low, frustrated and serious.

“No,” you whisper—not harsh, not angry, calm, controlled. You pull back.

“No?” He stills.

“We are not telling anyone.”

His brows draw together. “Why?”

“Because the moment we do, it stops being ours.”

That makes him pause, you lower your voice, glancing toward the open stretch of sand beyond your marui. Your father is speaking with Jake sully, your mother is blessing the catch, Aonung is watching everything as always.

“If we tell them, it becomes alliances, it becomes responsibilities.”

“And what is it now?”

You step closer, fingers coiling tightly into the cummerband around his waist. “It is mine, it is yours. No future titles, no duties. Just us.”

“You are not afraid?” he presses gently.

“Of being caught?” A small smile curves your lips. “Always.”

He exhales a soft laugh.

“But I am more afraid of losing this before we have had it long enough. We will tell them one day. When it does not feel like surrender.”

“And until then?”

“Until then we are quiet.”

Footsteps crunch faintly in the sand nearby, you both freeze as a shadow moves along the side of the marui, Aonung's voice drifts closer.

You shove Neteyam lightly toward the other side where he can sneak away. “Go.”

He doesn’t argue but before he slips away, he steals a quick kiss—warm, dangerous. “You like the risk,” he murmurs against your mouth.

You shove him again, cheeks flushing. “Go.”

He disappears around the curve of the pod just as your brother rounds the corner.

His eyes narrow. “You look suspicious.”

You fold your arms calmly. “You look nosy,”

His gaze lingers, then drifts behind you—searching. Your heart pounds so loudly you’re certain he can hear it, but Neteyam is gone. Aonung huffs, “mother wants you.”

“Then why are you still here?” You brush past him to find your mother. You assist her in preparing the bowls, and when the time comes—the entire village is there, surrounding your father.

The topic of the meeting has your heart thumping against your ribs, a shiver of instinctive fear running down your spine. Sky people.

All your life, you hadn’t worried about war. Now it has come. It would come. Your father, Neteyam, warriors of the clan going so far, you’d stay up worried—worrying that they would not return.

As the meeting wraps up, your parents call you to your marui for a brief, important talk.

You step into the quiet of your marui, woven walls glowing faintly in the evening light. Your mothers expression is calm, the weight behind her eyes pin you to the spot. Your father sits opposite her, hands folded in his lap.

“You have grown, daughter.” Your mother begins softly, there is no warmth in her tone. “Strong, intelligent, and careful. But you are also old enough to understand your duties as Tsakarem.”

You nod slowly, stomach twirling, head running with millions of possibilities.

Your father leans forward, voice deliberate. “It is time we speak of your future, daughter. The clan’s unity must be preserved, and there are decisions you must accept.”

Your chest tightens as if you know what is coming, but the words still struck like a tidal wave.

“You are to be mated with Amak. The future of the clan lies with you.”

Your ears dropped, tail pausing its movements and tucking itself between your legs.

Your mother reaches out, her fingers brushing your cheek. “You will understand in time. Your heart will follow your duty, as all Tsakarem have before you.”

But you do not feel comfort. You feel a storm. Anger. Desire. Fear. A part of you wants to scream. Another part knows the clan’s eyes will always follow.

If you were to see Neteyam again you could not falter.

As the days passed, you noticed your mother and father speaking with Amak’s parents more often than ever before.

You are on the ilu, riding with Neteyam, hands placed on his waist as your head rests against his back.

He stops nearby a rock, taking your hands and helping you climb up. “Come here.”

“They are speaking to Amak’s family again,” you say quietly.

His bubbly expression vanishes completely.

“They will arrange it,” you continue. “Not now. But soon.”

His jaw flexes so tightly you can see the muscle shift. He steps closer—too close for propriety, not close enough for comfort.

“You will not accept it,” Neteyam mutters, fingers clenched around yours as if anchoring himself.

“I have no choice!” You cry, hands weakening.

“Hey…” He whispers, tugging your waist and lifting you onto a higher part of the rock. “It’s alright, we’ll find a way.”

You close your eyes, leaning into him, feeling the heat of his body, the steady rhythm of his breath against your own. The world around you—the clan, the looming duties, the weight of expectations seems to shrink to just this moment. Just the two of you.

“I can’t go against my parents,” you whisper, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “I am their Tsakarem. I have responsibilities, Teyam.”

“And so do I,” he counters softly, hands running through your curls. He tilts your chin so your eyes meet his. “We will find a way.” He repeats.

He steps between your legs, his hands rubbing soft circles against your hips. He pulls you in, lips trailing down your neck as you close your eyes, arms wrapped around his shoulders tightly, hands tugging at his braids. “Neteyam…” you whisper, voice trembling.

He continues, smiling softly, hands moving from your hips and unto your waist, sliding under the flaps of your beads to touch soft skin.

“Someone will catch us…” Your hands move to his chest.

“Shh.” He whispers, hands desperate, pulling you close again.“No one sees us here. It’s just us.”

You lean in once more, lips finding his, slow at first, teasing, tasting, savoring the risk. Your hands lower along his back as his fingers tighten around your waist, pulling you closer. Your hearts hammer in unison.

A soft sigh escapes you as he trails kisses along your jaw, your hands tangled in his hair now—for a moment, nothing exists outside of this.

A shadow rides over the water, both of you too deep in one another to care. Then a splash in the water catches your attention—you both part, freezing mid motion, hearts leaping to your throats.

Aonung stands there, eyes wide in shock and anger—his arms are crossed, jaw set tight. “Get off of her! Right now!” Aonung snaps, voice cracking.

Your brother rushes forward, pushing Neteyam back into the rock.

“Aonung!” You yelp, reaching for his arm.

He pushes you back as well, carefully before pinning Neteyam down, punches landing on his face.

“Stop now! Please!” You scream, pulling your brother away.

Neteyam only retaliates, turning over and fighting back. “Neteyam!” You snap, he freezes for a second, but your brother's continuous slaps bring him back to the moment.

You cover your mouth—unsure how to separate the two from one another, you can’t help but laugh.

You manage to pull Neteyam off of your brother at some point and he leans against the rock, panting softly.

“Did you choose this?! You bring him here for this?!” Your brother questions, not angry with you—but with Neteyam.

“We…we’re careful, Aonung”

He calms slightly with the knowledge that you did choose this. But his frustration remains as he remembers your title in the clan.

“Careful?! You’re Tsakarem! You have responsibilities! You are pure! And here you are sneaking off with this forest boy in the evening!”

“We know the risks and we love each other."

“Love?!” Aonung spits the word like it’s venom. “Love doesn’t matter! You’re promised—promises are not optional!”

“It has not been sealed! it is just a mere plan!”

“Father and mother will hear about this.”

“Do you think my life is a game to be arranged for convenience? Do you think I want this? Do you think I want to mate with someone chosen for me, for duty alone, while my heart beats for someone else?”

“You are blind! Naive! you are risking everything!” Aonung studies you, jaw tight, eyes flashing with anger and something softer—concern. Your expression is small, eyes big and glossy. After a long pause, he finally exhales sharply. “Fine,” he snaps, spinning on his heel. “I won’t tell. But… do not think I won’t be watching.”

He goes away on the ilu and you turn to Neteyam, his expression is soft as he glares down at you—arms still closed around your waist. “Are you okay?” He whispers.

“No,” You press your face against his chest. “I am so pressured. The constant reminder of duty crushes my ribs.”

He holds you against him with one hand on your head.

“Your nose is bleeding.” You observe, wiping some of it away with your thumb.

“Let’s get back.”

You nod, taking his hand and helping him onto the ilu, you stay seated behind him, your eyes fixed on his back and the bruises your brother left there. “I can assess these when we get back.”

“Leave them. They will heal themselves.”

“Are you angry with me?”

He doesn’t answer at first, guiding the ilu through the darkening water, the reef glowing faintly beneath you. His skin is warm under your delicate palms, muscles tight beneath your touch.

“No,” Neteyam says finally, his voice quiet. “Not at you.”

Your hand trails down to his cummerband, tightening around the fabric. “At my brother?”

“At all of it.” His voice is rougher now. “At the way they speak about you like you are something to be traded. Angry at the way I have to stand there and pretend that I do not—” His accent is thick as he speaks.

Your chin rests on his shoulder, back arched to reach his height. “Do not what?”

“Do not love you.”

The words sink into you slowly, heavy and anchoring. “I do not want you fighting my brother.”

“I do not want to fight him either.” He exhales sharply. “But I will not let anyone speak about you like that. Not even Aonung.”

“He thinks he is protecting me.”

“And he is,” Neteyam admits after a moment of silence. “In the only way he knows how.”

The village lights come into view, both of you straightening instinctively, distance slipping between your bodies even before reaching the shore.

He helps you down first, hands lingering at your waist for half a breath too long. “Meet me tomorrow?” He asks softly, leaning closer.

You hesitate, not because you don’t want to see him, but because you do. “Yes,” you whisper. “But not at the rocks. Aonung will be watching now.”

A faint smile brushes his bruised lips. “I thought you liked the risk.”

You nudge his chest gently. “Be serious.”

“I am,” his eyes soften. “I am serious about you.”

Your chest aches. “We have to be smarter,” you murmur. “If they seal the arrangement with Amak…”

His face hardens at the name “…then what?”

You have no answer. “I do not know,” you admit. “But I will not surrender quietly.”

Sleep does not come easy that night, you lie in your hammock, staring at the woven ceiling of your marui. Across the space, you can hear Aonung shifting.

“You are reckless.” He mutters into the darkness.

“—You would not understand.”

“I understand more than you think, I see the way father looks at you. Like you are already carrying the clan on your shoulders.”

Your throat tightens, no response.

“He will not bend,” Aonung continues. “If this mating strengthens alliances, he will not bend.”

“And mother?”

“She will say it is Eywa’s will.” Silence settles between you.

“Aonung,” you whisper.

He sighs, already knowing what you will ask. “I will not tell,” he says again. “But if this destroys you, I will drag that forest boy away myself.”

You smile at that, “it is not Neteyam’s fault. It will not destroy me.”

“You hope,” he corrects.

The sun had barely risen over the Metkayina reef, casting golden light that danced across gentle waves. You follow the group as they moved toward the hunting grounds, the air filled with the soft squawks of the tsurak and the faint whisper of the reef.

Rotxo, Aonung and Lo’ak were joking as usual, laughter echoing over the water, Tuk and Kiri darted across the shoreline, chasing each other and shrieking. Tsireya stood nearby, her gaze sweeping the water.

You and Neteyam stand silently apart, helping to untangle nets that had drifted from the hunters’ return. Your hands brush more often than necessary—yet both of you move with mechanical precision.

“Careful there,” Rotxo says without looking up, tossing a shell at the water. “Wouldn’t want to ruin the nets.”

You give a soft nod, avoiding Neteyam’s gaze. He grunted something that could have been an agreement—or a complaint, but said nothing.

Lo’ak leaned against a rock, watching. “They really don’t like each other, huh?” he mutters to Rotxo and your brother, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Yeah…you can feel the tension,” Rotxo laughs aloud.

Tsireya tilted her head slightly, lips pressed together as she watched you and Neteyam carefully. “I think it’s more than just dislike,”

Your eyebrows pinched together, they are speaking as if you were both not right there. Neteyam’s jaw tightened just the slightest, no one else noticed the faint smile he tried—and failed to suppress.

Aonung’s eyes never left you two, he knew the truth of what was happening with you both, and he noticed the quiet choreography of your hands, the glances no one else caught. The others only saw what they expected; hostility, irritation, and the unspoken tension between you and Neteyam.

His eyes followed you two as you finished untangling the net, his jaw was tight, he had seen enough the day before to know that the tension everyone else thought was hate—was something far more tender.

The next days are heavier, Amak appears more often, kind, respectful—strong. He brings you carved shells, rare corals, gifts that would make any Tsakarem beam, you accept them with practiced smiles.

But every time his fingers brush yours, every time his hands touch your skin—you feel nothing. That frightens you more than anything.

Neteyam grows quieter in public, careful. Every time your eyes meet across the sand, it feels like something stolen and sacred.

One evening, as the sun sinks low, casting golden streaks across the water, your father calls you to stand beside him before the clan. Your pulse stutters, communal beads hanging elegantly over your smooth skin.

“Soon,” he announces, voice carrying across the reef. “We will celebrate unity between families.”

Your stomach drops—now the whole clan knows that you are promised. You do not look at Neteyam, you cannot.

After the gathering disperses, he finds you anyway. Behind the ilu pens. “This is happening,”

“Yes.” You frown, hands fiddling around with your neck accessories.

“You still say we wait?”

Your composure crumbles. “What do you want me to do?” You whisper fiercely. “Run? Abandon my mother? My people? My duties?”

“I want you to choose me, baby.”

The words hang between you like a blade, you step back slightly, letting it fall. “I am trying to,” you say, voice trembling. “But choosing you means tearing something else apart.”

He steps forward, eyes blazing—not angry, just desperate. “then let it tear”

Your heart pounds so loudly you can barely hear the waves. “I cannot—i will not be the reason my clan fractures.”

“And I cannot be the reason you live a life you do not want.”

Silence falls over you both, wind moving through woven pods, the laughter of children near the shore, your life pulling in two directions.

“I need time,” you say finally.

He studies your face, searching for certainty. “You have some time,” he says quietly, “but not much.”

The following day is too bright, the reef reflects sunlight in sharp, blinding streaks as the clan gathers near the central platform. Warriors repair their weapons, other men and women among the clan weaving and cooking.

You move through it all with your chin lifted, spiritual beads gleaming against your skin like a reminder of who you are supposed to be.

Near the drying racks, two young hunters murmur to loudly. “I saw her,” one whispers. “At the ilu pens with the sully boy.”

“The Olo’eyktan’s daughter?” the other scoffs, “no, she is promised to Amak.”

“They were not standing like strangers.”

You freeze, back still turned. Across the platform, Amak pauses mid step, his shoulders stiff. His head tilts just slightly, listening. Your pulse pounds, trying to move away before he reaches you—but his hand closes around your wrist. Not brutal…yet.

“Walk with me,” he says. Not a request.

His eyes search yours as if they are hunting for truth. “You have been seen.”

Your breath remains steady. “Seen doing what?”

“With him.”

You do not pretend that you don't understand, just watching him seeth before you.

“With Neteyam.” He finishes, the name leaving his mouth like something bitter.

“We speak, sometimes…” you answer carefully.

“Do not insult me.” His grip tightens. “You are Tsakarem. You do not sneak to speak.”

You pull your wrist back slightly, “lower your voice.”

“Why?” His voice rises instead. “So you can continue to meet him in the shadows?”

conversations pause briskly, heads turn. Your tail flicks anxiously. “You forget yourself.”

“No! I remember exactly who you are. You are promised to me!”

“I am not yet mated.”

“But you will be!” His voice cracks across the sand now, drawing more attention. “And the clan already speaks of you wrapped around a forest boy!”

Your cheeks burn, not from shame, but in fury. “Do not speak of me as if I am your possession.”

His fingers dig into your arm now, hard. “You will not make me a fool before the clan.”

“Release me.”

“You will end whatever it is you have going with the forest boy.”

“I will not.”

Something shifts in his expression, hurt cuddling into pride. “You would throw away alliance for him?” he demands.

“I would choose my own future.”

The slap is not open handed, it is the shove that follows—sharp enough that you stumble backward against the wooden frame of the marui behind you, shoulder striking hard.

Gasps ripple through those close enough to see. Pain shoots up your arm.

“Do not touch her.” A sharp voice sounds from across the platform, Neteyam. He crosses the sand in seconds, anger radiating off him like heat. His golden eyes take in your posture, the mark already blooming on your arm.

“This is not your concern, forest boy.” Amak snaps.

“It became my concern when you put your hands on her.”

“I have every right—”

“You have none.” Neteyam calls out, that is all it took for Akam to lunge first, the crack of fist against jaw echoes across the reef. Neteyam stumbles back but recovers immediately, slamming into Amak’s ribs with equal force, enough to send them both crashing into the sand.

Shouts erupt as warriors rush forward—they hesitate. This is not a minor scuffle, it is territorial.

Amak swings hard, splitting Neteyam’s lip. He retaliates with a brutal strike to his cheek, knocking him sideways.

“Stop it!” You scream, rushing forward.

Someone catches your arm—aonung. His grip is firm but not cruel “Do not go between them.”

“They will kill each other!” You hiss.

Across the dais, Jake strides forward, towering, angry. Neytiri moves beside him, eyes worried, but she moves like an arrow.

Your father pushes through the formed circle of villagers, your sister watches among the crowd worriedly. “Enough!”

His roar silences the crowd. He sweeps the scene, eyes lingering on your bruised arm. “What is the meaning of this?”

Amak wrenches free just enough to point at Neteyam. “This forest boy dishonors the village!”

Your heart stops beating, the silence is loud.

“He sneaks with your daughter in darkness. The Tsakarem.” His voice rises deliberately, making sure everyone hears. At this point your mother is at the site of action. “They meet alone,” he continues, “they touch, they kiss, they hide.”

A collective murmur spreads through the crowd like wildfire, Jake’s grip on Neytiri tightens.

“Is this true?” Your mother asks, her eyes closed.

Your hands tremble. “We have not performed Tsaheylu,” you say clearly, hands hovering. “We are not mated, mother.”

Gasps fill the village. “But I would choose him,” you continue, “if I were permitted.”

Amak laughs, lacking any amusement. “She admits it before the whole clan.”

“You disappoint me, daughter.”

Jake looks between you and his son, understanding dawning with dread. Neteyam tries to step forward again. “It is my fault—”

“It is mine too,” you cut in, placing a hand on his arm.

Amak’s lip curls in disgust. “She would abandon alliance for a man who has not even bonded her.”

That stings because it’s true, you and Neteyam have not made Tsaheylu—you’re both ready, just marked with fear. There is no sacred bond to shield you, only choice and love.

Your mothers eyes draw to you, crossing the sand and gently cupping your jaw, tilting your face towards the light. Then she sees it, the swelling at your shoulder and the imprint of fingers forming at your wrists.

Her breathing changes, slow and controlled. “Who,” she asks softly, “placed this mark on my child?”

Amak straightens, still angry. “She defied-”

Tonowari takes him by the arm. “You put your hands on her?”

He struggles against your fathers firm grip. “She shamed…”

Tonowari shoves him forward harshly. “She is my daughter.” His words tear out of him.

Ronal rises to her full height now, eyes burning blue as she steps between you and the onlookers. One arm shields you instinctively as if you are still small enough to tuck behind her ribs.

“No male,” she says, voice ringing across the reef. “Will ever strike what came from my body and call it correction.”

Amak’s parents step forward nervously, but falter when your mother gives them that cold stare.

“She is promised,” Amak tries again.

“She is not yours!” Ronal snaps.

Tonowari releases him only to shove him back a tad. “If you cannot control your temper before the bond,” he says, chest heaving. “what would you do after?”

The question shifts everything. It is no longer about Neteyam, or secrecy, or embarrassment. It is about safety. Your safety. “Did he frighten you?” he asks quietly.

Ronal’s fingers brush your hair back, checking you like she did when you were a child who scraped your knee on coral.

“If he ever raises his hand to you again,” she says coldly, directed to Amak without looking away from you. “He will answer to me before Eywa”

“This discussion is finished. No union will be considered with a male who forgets he courts a daughter, not a trophy.” Your father announces.

When he looked at Neteyam. this time, it was different. Measured, evaluating a man who did not claim ownership over his daughter, did not speak for you, accepted accountability when needed, and did not hide once exposed.

The reef is quieter at dusk, never silent, but soft. You sit near the outer shallows, legs submerged to your calves, watching the current drag ribbons of light across the sand below.

You know they are coming before they speak, Aonung’s footsteps are heavier, Tsireya’s are not footsteps at all, she moves like tide foam.

Tsireya drops beside you first, bumping her shoulder into yours gently. “You look dramatic.” she announces.

You huff a soft laugh. “I am not.”

“You are,” Aonung mutters, lowering himself on your other side. “You stare like a dying ilu.”

“I do not!” You laugh.

Silence falls again, but it is not a tense silence, it is just shared. The water laps at your skin. After a moment, Tsireya rests her head against your arm. “Does he make you happy?”

“Yes.”

Aonung exhales through his nose. “That is inconvenient.”

You nudge him with your knee. “Do you hate him?”

“No,” your brother replies immediately.

You blink, then he continues, staring out at the reef instead of you. “I hate that you will leave.”

“I am not leaving,” you whisper.

“You will.” He insists quietly. “If you bond. If you lead, if alliances shift, daughters always leave.”

Tsireya tilts her head. “That is not true.”

“It is sometimes true, and I do not like it.”

“I do not want to leave you,” you say honestly. “Either of you.”

Tsireya’s hand slips into yours. “You will not leave us,” she says firmly. “Even if you go somewhere else, you are still our sister.”

“We will always sit beside you.” Your brother says.

“I love you,” you say suddenly. The three of you, born of the same reef, the same parents, the same expectations.

Aonung clears his throat. “You are emotional.”

Tsireya beams. “I love you too”

your brother hesitates, then quietly, “yes, fine. I love you too.”

The sun sinks lower, and when you finally stand to return to the village, your brother walks slightly ahead, Tsireya slightly behind.

Two weeks pass, not in secrecy, not in shadows, open. You no longer slip away at eclipse, you walk beside Neteyam in daylight.

At first, villagers watch like they expect something to break, but it doesn’t. You help your mother grind herbs, Neteyam helps mend nets with young warriors. You cross paths naturally. You speak without flinching. When his hand finds yours, it is brief—appropriate, but not hidden.

There are whispers. But there is no scandal, because nothing you do is dishonorable. You have not bonded, you have not defied your parents, you have no abandoned duty, and Neteyam has not overstepped once.

Your father watches Neteyam like a stalking akula, not judging—but again, evaluating. He superintends his training, his hunting, the way he guides other, younger hunters in need of help.

As day blend to one, stretching into another turning of the tide, your name is still spoken with reverence, Tsakarem, daughter of the olo’eyktan—but now it is also spoken with something else; curiosity.

And Neteyam’s name is no longer whispered like a secret pressed into woven walls.He trains under your father’s gaze without flinching. He listens. He does not posture. When corrected, he bows his head. When praised, he does not swell. The young warriors begin to follow him naturally—not because he demands it, but because he steadies them.

That night, you sit with your mother outside your marui. The tide is low, the stars scatter across the water like crushed shells.

“you embarrassed me,” she says calmly. You brace for anger, but her voice is not sharp. “You frightened me.” She corrects.

“I did not mean to, mother. You would have let me bond with Amak,”

Her jaw tightens slightly. “I would have let you fulfill what I believed protected the clan.”

“And now?”

Her gaze drifts towards where Neteyam sits with his siblings near the shoe, laughter drifting across the dark blue.

“Now I see protection is not always found in arrangement.”

It is the closest thing to a blessing you have ever heard from her lips.

Later, Neteyam meets you by the shallow reef—not hiding, not touching too closely, just standing beside you. The distance between you feels smaller now, not because you are reckless, but because you are seen.No stolen kisses tonight. Just fingers brushing briefly before parting. And somehow, that feels stronger.

Amak keeps his distance, your father speaks to him sometimes, not cruelly, but firmly. The lesson was not about love, it was about control.

And Neteyam? He earns his place without asking for it. One evening, after a long hunt where he guides younger warriors safely through rough currents, your father approaches you quietly.

“He does not seek to possess you,” he says.

“No, papa.”

“He does not weaken you.”

“Never.”

Tonowari studies the horizon.“Then if you bond one day,” he says slowly, “it will be because you chose strength and not because you surrendered to it.”

Your throat tightens.It is not dramatic. Not ceremonial. But it is permission.

You sit cross legged between Neteyam’s thighs as he braids a new bead into your hair, one carved from reef shell—simple and unadorned. He does so in front of the water. Not hidden, or displayed.

He leans forward, placing a soft kiss on your neck. “We do this when you are ready,” he murmurs, leaning against your shoulder there. “Not when they push, and not when we are afraid.”

“I’m not afraid.”

He smiles softly, placing more kisses up your neck and unto your face. “Neither am I”

The reef breathes around you—you are now a woman who chose, and that changes a lot.“But Neteyam…” you murmur, leaning back slightly.

“I know that we’ve managed everything so far…” you continued, fingers fidgeting with a loose strand of hair. “But you and Aonung need to fix things. You two do not get along.”

His hand stilled mid weave, you could feel the tension that drove to his shoulders. “I can feel it every time you two are around one another.”

“What are you saying?” he leaned forward, golden eyes sharp.

“I’m saying every time you’re around him, it’s like you’re ready to fight! You can’t stand him, and I’m stuck in the middle. Every. Time.”

You spun to face him, your hair slipping from his careful fingers.

“I don’t like it either!” He snapped. “You think I want this tension? You think I enjoy being hated by him for what…Loving you?!”

“Then act like it!” you snapped, twisting slightly so your face turned toward his shoulder. “Act like you can handle it! Because I can’t keep choosing between the two people I love!”

“Turn around baby, let me finish.” He muttered as you yelled in his face.

You exhaled sharply before turning back around and allowing him to finish braiding the beads into your long black hair.

“I’m trying,” his jaw clenched, fingers knotting the last strands with controlled force. “You have no idea how it feels to see him hate me for loving you.”

“And what?—do you think it’s easy for me?!” Your hands gripped his arms, the sand beneath you shifting as you pressed closer to him. “Do you think I like watching my brother fight with the man I love?”

The tension coiled between you, his waist warm against your neck. “I feel it,” he said brusquely. “Every moment. But I won't back down from you. You’re mine and I am yours in every way that matters.”

You exhaled shakily, leaning back into him, the sand sticking to your legs. “Just… don’t make it worse,” you breathed. “I didn’t mean to yell.”

“Meet me at the three brothers’ rocks tonight.” There was no secrecy in Neteyam’s tone, no smirk or challenge, just certainty.

You do not sneak from your marui. “I am walking the reef before sunrise.” Ronal studies your face for a long moment, eyes sharp, searching. Whatever she sees there makes her nod once. Tonowari watches you pass, he does not call you back—it feels like a blessing.

The tide is low when you reach the Three brothers’ The rocks stand dark against a violet sky, the water curling around their bases in soft, patient breaths.

This is where you once ran breathless in the dark, where fruit juice stained your chin, where he first said he was tired of hiding, where Aonung dragged him off of you with fury in his eyes. Where you almost lost everything.

Neteyam steps down from the peak of the middle rock when he finally sees you, neither of you rush forward. “This place used to feel so dangerous,”

“It was.” You answer, smiling.

“It doesn’t anymore.” He steps closer until only a breath holds you two apart. The wind lifts the ends of his braids.

“This is where we chose each other," you smile again.

He nods once. “Where I decided no one else could take you as theirs.” He laughs.

Your hand rises to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his soul beneath your palm. “I am not being taken, I am choosing.”

His eyes search yours carefully. Choosing. “If we do this, there is no stepping back.”

“I’m not afraid anymore.” The words settle between you two like something hallowed. You step down together into the shallow water between the rocks. Cool, tiny waves brush your ankles, the reef glows faintly beneath you.

You sit facing one another, knees touching, hands resting against thighs, breath uneven but steadying. There is no rush. Your fingers lift slowly to your kuru, his hands echo yours, there is a final moment of stillness and your foreheads touch first.

Then, gently—the tendrils squirming, longing for connection. The kurus join, the connection is not violent or overwhelming. It is grounding.

Your breath catches as his presence floods into you, warmth, steadiness, a voracious protectiveness braided with patience he had to learn, for you.

Everything paused—even the world, to witness something beautiful. Neteyam inhales sharply when the bond settles fully, his hands tightening against your thighs.

The connection deepens—not louder, not brighter. Just wider. You feel the steadiness of his heartbeat sync with yours, the rhythm aligning until it’s difficult to tell which pulse belongs to whom.

Your eyes open at the same time, his are wide, pupils dilated, exploring you. Your lips part and he takes the opportunity to have them meet his. Slow and deliberate—testing the reality of this moment.

His hands find your face, brushing your jaw and smoothing back your hair. Your head tilts as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, teeth grazing the sensitive spots there.

He smiles softly against your nape, palms running down your body—feeling, discovering the places that make you sigh.

The kiss breaks for a second, eyes searching, hands touching. He reaches for your hand, squeezing gently. “I love you.”

Your smile brightens intensely, placing soft kisses along his knuckles. “I love you.”

He pulls you close, holding you on his lap. You lay silently there, tracing constellations, sharing small jokes, and for the first time—you do not feel compromised by duty, by arrangements. you are free. and you are mated for life.

three sleepless night later, you came to the marui almost in tears from pure exhaustion. you begged ronal for her help.

she quickly pull you inside her home. she presses her hand against her forehead. “you’re exhausted. poor thing. here sit.”

she leaves for a moment, leaving you to take in her home. you leaned your head back and closed your eyes.

you hear ronal return. with her husband tonowari.

“there is something we must ask you, we belive it will help with your inability to sleep.” ronal announces.

“what is it?”

and that’s how you found yourself in between them. tonowari’s big hands on your hips as he is mezmorized by his cock entering in and out of you. he stretched you so tight, but you felt so full.

ronal laid in front of you with her legs open, her weeping cunt begging for stimulation. “go ahead,” she had said. you didn’t hold back.

your lips lock around her clit and lick up and down her folds. moans filled the marui.

every thrust by tonowari only pushed your face further into ronal’s cunt. she hisses and grabs your hair.

“yes, tonowari keep doing that!” ronal moans throwing her head back. “ah, good girl. you tongue is so deep.”

you flutter around tonowari at ronal’s praise.

this was all you wanted now. to be in between them, letting them use you. your body was already feeling satiated, relaxed, despite the constant stimulation brought by the two of them.

they seemed to work in sync, using your mouth and your pussy. they took everything they wanted from you.

ronal ordered you to take her husbands cock, and you did your best.

“please tonowari, i’m trying-“ a moan leaving your mouth cuts you off.

“i know yawntutsyip (little one), you’re taking it so well. we’re going to tire you out. we’re gonna use you.”

you nod and bite your hand, holding back even more moans.

ronal gabs your jaw bringing her lips to your and kissing you. ronal can taste herself on your tongue and she moans.

she places sweaty strands of hair behind your ear, and watches you fuck her husband. she smiles down at you. “i can tell you’re getting tired, love. you’re doing so well.”

“irayo (thank you.)” you mewl out. tonowari started his hard thrusts again.

ronal quickly pulls your hair and forces you to look up at her, “you’re going to come on him yes?”

“yes tsahik, i want to. i-i will.” ronal took you in. dishelved hair, sweaty skin, watery eyes, and shaky arms. you were almost there. ronal hums in contentment.

she was confident she’ll get you to sleep in no time.

Your beauty was mesmerising. All you were glowing. Your skin, your hair, your eyes… everything captured her attention. «I want to be like them when I grow up» she was sure, even if she didn't even know you. Jake carried his daughter with secure —and tired— arms, and Tuk didn’t take her eyes off you. A smile was shared between the two of you, but the little girl felt disappointed when your eyes traveled to her dad. First it was a few seconds, then you looked down at the sand. Tuk saw a faint purple blush on your cheeks when you shortly gazed at Jake again.

When the olo'eyktan accepted the request for uturu, he also asked for his children to show the village to the newcomers. That's when you walk closer, your pace graceful, your steps light, and your eyes sparkling with something Tuktirey could recognize.

“You look like royalty because you are part of it!” Tuk said almost breaking her neck when she looked up to show you a smile with tiny fangs.

“Rohyaltee?” The foreign word came out unnaturally.

“Don't say english words if you can't explain at the moment, baby girl. We have to install fast.” Jake scolded softly as he carried some bags. It wasn't a big deal, but he didn't want to leave a bad impression among the metkayina, let alone an important member like you.

“I don't think it means something bad if a sweet girl like you says it.” Oh, Tuk definitely liked you. Everyone started walking behind you.

“It doesn't.” Jake answered and your cheeks turned purple again. “It’s the term humans have for the member of the family that rules among a group of people.”

“Tell her the basics, sempul. The way you taught me that I was a part of the royalty!” Tuktirey wanted to check if she was right. “How do humans describe them?”

“Well, they are graceful, kind, brave, work hard to protect the people they love, seek to do good, and they are very good-looking.”

When the purple tint expanded to your neck and ears, Tuk had her answer. «This is going to be fun» So her mission started right away.

“And they are good looking, right?” She asked innocently, looking at you.

“Tuk! You- I- That's not- Why-” Even Neteyam giggled when he heard his dad stumble with his own tongue. “I mean, of course you are!” Jake wasn't going to lie. You were attractive, but he didn't have time to think about that. Not then and not there. “Not that I wanted to say it- I mean, not that I didn't want to say it!” He almost tripped in the middle of the bouncy path. Jake couldn't be perceived as bold or disrespectful, but at the same time, what if you take offense because he tried to retract his words? His mind was off, his lips felt weird, he definitely needed some sleep.

“It's okay. Don't worry, Toruk Makto.”

“Please, don't-”

“This is for you. Your new home.” You interrupted when you arrived at the empty marui.

“Yeah, this will work. This looks great.” Jake walked around the space, trying to ease the awkwardness of the previous interaction. “Thank you for your help.”

“Of course! Please let your kids know that my siblings will be waiting for them at the shore after all of you rest. And I believe my sempul wants me to teach you our ways, so meet me at the healing marui when you are ready and well rested too.”

You disappeared after showing a smile to each member of the family.

“My sempul is part of the royalty too! He can be a good candidate for-”

“Okay! Let's unpack and rest for a while.” Jake interrupted, pushing Tuk far away from the entrance. Thankfully you were far away already.

Jake couldn't erase the embarrassment he went through in front of you. He said to himself it was because you were someone important in this new place, where he needed to hide. But deep down, the real reason was: Jake made a foul in front of a good-looking na'vi. As a dad, he wasn't able to make this obvious, so he prepared to take a nap. But Tuk knew what happened. She was sure when the same light burn color appeared on his cheeks when Jake laid down.

2. When an ilu was her accomplice

It took only a few hours for Tuk to adore you. And her love for you was reassured days later. When she felt a little left out in the teen group, the girl decided to stay close enough not to worry her siblings but still have space to search for shells in the sand. You saw her when you were taking care of the ilus. Of course, you didn't want any of them to feel lonely, especially since you had never been in their position, but imagined it could be difficult. So you invited her to meet the ilus.

“She is so pretty! I love her already!” Tuk said as she petted the animal.

“Soon you will learn to ride them!”

“Really? Back home I never had the opportunity to do something like this. Dad says I'm too young.”

“Well, then it's good news metkayina ride ilus as soon as possible.”

“Will you teach me?”

“My siblings are in charge of it. Actually, I need to teach your sempul, so then he can ride a bigger animal with my sempul.”

“Wow! That sounds fun. Will I do the same one day?”

“Of course you will! Maybe you could ride an akula.”

The girl showed an enormous smile, even if she didn't know what that meant. Then Jake walked towards you. Heavy footsteps made their way through the sand that resisted movement. And when the man stood in front of you, looking at his daughter, you questioned if he was just not used to the ground or if he was still tired. Jake's face had cuts, scars from battles you could just imagine, and unhealthy dark shadows under his eyes.

“Hey babygirl, you weren't with your siblings like you promised.”

“Sorry. That's my fault. I invited her to help me with the ilus.”

Jake looked at you. Somehow, you thought maybe he didn't notice you before because his eyes opened a little wider, and his ears perked up at your voice. You felt little under his gaze, afraid you would get the little girl in trouble.

“Oh, it's okay. I just don't like it when she is not with one of us.”

Your ears went down, as well as your eyes. Of course his daughter wouldn't get in trouble, but you. There wasn't severity in Jake's words, still, this time the purple blush appeared on your cheeks because of embarrassment. You didn't want him to see you as irresponsible or disrespectful.

“Daddy! Don't be mean, they were friendly. Neteyam, Lo'ak, and Kiri were doing their thing, and I felt left out.” Jake felt Tuk's voice punch him in the stomach. “They say you need to learn how to ride these! So you can't be mean with your karyu (teacher).” Tuk didn’t want her dad to mess up her plans.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude-”

“I understand, truly.” You tried to reassure him, although you still felt embarrassed. Jake noticed your awkwardness, and he cursed himself internally when Jake realized that all he did from the beginning was make you feel uncomfortable. It had been a few days since the family arrived, and even if Jake wanted to act like the adult he was, every time he saw you around the island, his mind reminded him of the first impression you had of him. “Why don't you show him how you feed your new friend, Tuk?” Changing the subject only made Jake feel bad. His daughter saw a peak of sadness in his golden eyes, so she needed to change that.

“Look, daddy!” Tuk gave the animal a fish, and it responded with a happy shriek.

Then, the ilu brought his head close to your stomach, silently asking you to feed him too. After you did that, the animal changed its target, this time rubbing his head on Jake's arms, who moved away slightly in surprise.

“It's okay, he won't bite you.”

“Okay, buddy. Let's do this.” Jake grabbed a fish and the animal began to open his mouth. Just as it was about to grab the food, he moved to the other side. “Hey, I thought you wanted this.”

“He's playing with you, daddy!”

“Well, he needs to eat…” The ilu started to swim in circles around Jake, which led him to spin in his place, trying to get the animal to eat. After a few seconds, Jake realized he probably looked silly, and it was conform when Tuk and you covered your mouths, trying not to giggle. “Fine! Don't come crying for food later.”

The last thing Jake heard was another squeal. Then, a force quite large for a medium-sized animal pushed him forward. It would have all ended with him losing a funny fight if your body hadn't been in front of Jake. He only managed to see your eyes wide open before his body pulled both of you under the water.

Jake grabbed your waist and pulled you to the surface almost immediately. You coughed a little, since the shock had barely given you time to catch your breath before you hit the water. Jake brushed aside the heavy strands of hair that were covering your face. When your eyes met, you both saw different things.

Jake was mesmerized by your eyes, as deep as the ocean he now had to call home, and your features looked beautiful up close, even more so than all those times when he refused to accept that he was looking for you among the villagers, just to find out if you —the na'vi who was kind with his family from the beginning— were nearby. And you? You couldn't believe you had him so close, with a worried expression, wrinkling the two pieces of hair above his eyes —that feature caught your attention from the beginning, because you noticed that it was very expressive—. All you wanted was to touch his nose, his hair, and his hands with an extra finger.

“You see it too, right?” Tuk whispered to the ilu while you two were still in a trance. “Good job.” She giggled.

“I'm sorry. That won't happen again, it was him. Uh… I'll better get going with your father.”

Tuk rolled her eyes.

3. When the girls wanted to do a make over

You never expected to be in that situation after so many years. When your siblings were younger, you let Tsireya play with your hair, make loose braids with dirt, or even let her make you some childish accessories. But Tuk? She was a menace. Fortunately, Kiri was there too to guide her. The older girl noticed your insecurity as soon as Tuk said she was going to add some ‘tawtute sparkle’ to this makeover.

“Is this how you felt when I did this to you?” Your sister asked, giggling, covering her mouth.

“Not really, this is… different.”

“Okay, we are done with their hair. What now?”

“Choose some clothes and I'll do their makeup!” Tuk jumped in excitement.

“Maayk-oop?” Tsireya and you were confused.

“Yes! They are human products, but I'll use fruit! That's for painting your face with different colors and accentuating your features. Glitter is usually used, and we don't have that, but I think I can make it look good.”

“Is it like paint for battle?”

“Something like that… mmm, but not at all.”

“Tuk, I don't think they would-”

“Please! I promise I will make you prettier. You can show my brother.” Tuk said to Tsireya, then she looked at you. “And you can show a mighty warrior that's interested in you!”

“I appreciate the help, but there's no one right now.”

“Then you should do it for you. Try something new.” Kiri whispered, because she knew she wasn't the best to give that advice, but Kirk liked you as soon as she discovered that she felt comfortable spending time with you.

“Okay, okay. Let's try.”

Tuk began pouring the juice from some fruits into bowls, and also separating the gelatinous pulp, which would be used for things you didn't understand. She took bunches of scentless herbs and tied them together to form instruments. She seemed like a real expert. And she proved it when she began painting your faces. It was definitely not like traditional face paint for special occasions, as the paint was spread across their eyelids, cheeks, and lips with the herbs, the fruit itself or Tuk's little finger.

“Oh, Eywa! You look amazing.”

“You did a good job.” Kiri smiled. “Here's your clothes.”

Tsireya's outfit was pink and blue, while yours was purple and green. Maybe because you had no mirror you couldn't exactly see how everything turned out, but when you looked at Tsireya, you understood it perfectly matched your makeup.

“Come on! You have to see your faces! But you can't get in the ocean.”

When you saw your reflection in the water, you didn't recognize the unnatural color palette on your face. However, the weird sensation that filled your stomach wasn't bad at all. You felt pretty.

“Girls, I need you to come and help your brothers to-”

You turned around when you recognized the voice that you started to love, not directly because it wasn't like you two talked a lot. Jake saw your features accentuated with the makeup that he didn't expect to see in Pandora. Had he dared to take his eyes off you and look at Tsireya, Jake would have noticed that your makeup was more subtle than your sister's, but that didn't matter. Jake tilted his head, confused by a familiar tickling in his chest. Jake couldn't speak, for all he could think was: «They look different. Either way, they are so… ethereal.» But he immediately backtracked and was finally able to look the other way.

“Do you like my work, daddy?”

“Girls, I need you to go to the marui, okay? I'll be there in a minute.”

Jake didn't even say goodbye. Of course, you weren't aware of this internal battle, so when he looked at you, paying special attention with big golden eyes, and didn't answer the question, you felt ridiculous.

“Wait! Where are you going?”

Tsireya asked worriedly as you ran to the area of tall trees to hide. You didn't want to upset little Tuk, so you removed your makeup in a small stream and stayed there until nightfall.

4. When Tuk “fell asleep” on the bonfire

When this happened, you were hurt, really hurt. Your heart felt heavy since the day you felt exposed before Jake Sully, the great warrior. It was obvious that he didn't like you. Maybe you were separating Tuk from her siblings when you weren't supposed to, yeah, maybe that. Because being ugly for him was embarrassing, but that couldn't be the reason why Jake decided to skip the ilu lesson, just to jump directly with the tsurak. Jake knew you would be his teacher, so it couldn't be anything but personal, not when your father told you not to worry about giving Toruk Makto lessons the morning after the makeup thing happened.

Jake knew he messed up. Tuk let him know since a week ago she entered the marui, with arms crossed, saying he was a ‘big meanie’ with you. Then Jake just made it worse when he talked to Tonowari about skipping a step of the training. To be honest, that decision had nothing to do with you. Jake was simply confident he could tame the wild animal that the metkayina warriors tamed. Jake needed to protect his family and couldn't afford to waste any time. However, Jake felt a certain relief when he didn't have to worry about saying or doing something foolish in front of you, even if it meant not seeing you at all. That feeling only consumed him when he noticed you no longer gave him a smile whenever your eyes accidentally met across the village. Now you tried to ignore him as much as possible, even avoiding his children when Jake was around.

“Dad, you need to fix this.” Tuk said, bringing the last piece of food to her mouth.

“Me? What are you talking about?”

“You know. My friend is sad because of you. I told you, big meanie. Now you have to apologize.”

“She's right, dad. Tsireya and Ao'nung said they have been really quiet lately.” Lo'ak talked with his mouth full.

“The dessert is next to them, how about we go get some? That way you can sit down, talk and apologize.”

Tuk grabbed Jake's hand before he could answer. They approached you, and although you smiled politely, your attention was focused on the little girl. You knew Tuk wanted dessert, so as soon as she saw the large plate everyone was grabbing food from, you handed it to her.

“Thank you! Oh, this spot is warmer than the other one, right, sempul? We should sit here.”

The silence between you and Jake was awkward, even painful for Tuk. Around you, the clan members chatted amongst themselves in lively conversations; some murmured, but all interacted with each other. Tuk, on the other hand, sat between you, waiting for her father to say something.

“Mmm, I'm satisfied. The food was delicious.”

“Do you wanna go to sleep, baby girl?”

“Nop. I wanna sleep by the fire for a while. It reminds me of home.”

Tuk climbed onto his lap, until Jake took her in his arms and, sitting down, rocked her like when she was a baby. Memories flooded his mind and subtly reflected on his face as he watched his sweet little girl sleep and his children talk quietly on the other side of the bonfire. You watched him discreetly, wondering how he felt since the day he arrived. Then, after a few minutes, when you were about to stand up, Jake said your name.

“I don't know how to say this.” Jake felt stupid. He was an adult, for Eywa's sake! “But Tuk made me realise I've been rude to you. It was never my intention to make you feel uncomfortable.” The girl struggled to keep her ears from perking up when she heard her name. “I'm really sorry. I just don't know how to act around new people, and my kids have loved you since the day we arrived here. I guess I wanted to make a good impression, but didn't know how to.”

“Why did you tell my father that you weren't going to train with me anymore?”

“That wasn't personal. Ilus are too easy, so I was sure I could manage a real aquatic beast.” Tuk felt his father's chest rise and fall as he let out a short laugh and wanted to open her eyes to see your reaction to the cocky confession.

“Of course. The great Toruk Makto can tame all the beasts in Pandora.”

For the first time in a while, Jake didn't dislike someone calling him that. A half-smile appeared when he noticed you avoiding his gaze and playing with one of your bracelets.

“But even I need to improve my breathing. My kids say you are a great teacher, so I won't miss the opportunity to train with you.”

“I'm not that good. Besides, I've only trained with them a couple of times.”

“That makes you even better.” Tuk almost let out an excited giggle, but she stifled it by letting out a sleepy groan before settling gently into her father's arms.

“Then we need to improve your breathing technique.”

That time, it wasn't exactly a failure, but Tuk wanted his father to kiss you already!

5. When Tuk spied on both of you

“Remember daddy, listen to karyu. Don't be grumpy.”

“I'm not grumpy, baby girl.” All of his kids looked away when he tried to gain their approval.

“You can be when you’re trying something new. But they are very patient, don't worry.”

“Auch.” Jake stood up and took the essentials before opening the curtain to let the sunlight in. “I must get going. Boys, take care of Tuk, Kiri is going to help Tsireya today.”

“Remember to smile at them! They like to see that you are enjoying the lessons!” Tuk yelled from inside the marui.

“Really?” Neteyam asked.

“Of course.” She smirked.

Tuk slipped away from his brothers' sight so she could watch Jake and you on the rocks where everyone took lessons before. It was the third day the little girl had done it, so Tuk already knew which trees she could hide behind to avoid being seen and to hear a little. Anyone who discovered her would reprimand her, but she would defend herself by saying it was to make sure her plan was on the right track.

Both of you were sitting on a rock, unaware of the little spy who was doing everything in her tiny hands to see a cute interaction. With the sun bathing your blue skin, Jake tried everything so as not to lose focus. It was silly, because Jake felt like a teenager, nervously looking away. But at the end of the day, he was the one who asked for help.

“Now breathe from here.” Jake felt your hand on his abdomen. You were showing him how to use the correct technique, but he couldn't help blushing. Even for a moment, Jake wanted to giggle. Your skin against his burned; it tickled him too. “Your heartbeat is fast.”

“Sorry.”

“Don't apologize. What's wrong?”

“I just have a lot in my mind right now.”

“Is it the clan duties? I can ask my dad to give you less chores. Maybe that would help.”

“No!” Jake instinctively reached for your hand, the one that was still touching him. “Sorry. I just…” Jake took a deep breath, without letting you go. “What would the clan think if the so mighty warrior asked for less chores?” Jake spoke with a bitter tone. Shame peeked through his words. “I have done enough coming here to hide my family, putting all of you in danger.”

The tiredness on his eyes and the scars on his face reminded you of the first time you met him. You couldn't imagine the guilt and pressure Jake carried on his back. Of course in every legend, there’s a side of the story that only the true warriors understand. That's why you decided to come closer, squeezing his five blue fingers and positioning your other hand on his chest, right where the heart was. Jake only looked at you, confused and expecting to know the reason why you were touching him like that —like you were touching something great and unique—.

“Did you ask for war?”

“No.” Jake flinched. His eyes betrayed him, and they revealed to you a painful reflection of years fighting the sky people.

“Then all you have done is protect your family.” Your braids slid in front of your forehead; Jake felt a familiar twist in his stomach. “No one can judge if any of you need time to rest and heal. Every warrior deserves to breathe and reconnect with the great mother. You have a strong heart, Jake.” He smiled, remembering the past.

“Thank you.” Jake whispered your name softly, and your cheeks showed a purple soft tint. “But I still want to feel like I do something for the people here.” «For you» Jake wanted to say; he didn't know why. “It’s the least I can do.”

Your smile made him want to squeeze you around his arms and never let you go. Then you realized how touchy you were being. Physical contact was not unusual among the na'vi, but you didn't want Jake to realise how much you liked his company, so you backed up and hid your hands under your thighs, hiding, at the same time, the fact that you wanted to keep being close to him.

“Well, then you must accept my help with the chores.”

“Only when you are not busy, I don't wanna get you in trouble.”

“Fine.”

“Deal.”

Your eyes sparkled. Jake leaned because he wanted to appreciate how the sun changed the color of the, slightly.

Tuk squeaked, covering her mouth. Then she covered her eyes, peeking from between the fingers.

Jake put the rebel braids behind your ear, caressing your face in the process.

Tuk bit her hand, moving her legs with excitement.

Both of your faces were starting to get close again. None of you backing up for a second.

So close.

Then, Tsireya called your name.

Jake jumped a little on his place, scratching the back of his neck. You looked away before meeting your little sister, who was running in the sand.

“Sa'nok needs you. Is… everything… okay?” Tsireya sensed some tension.

“Uh? Ah- ye-yeah. We were finishing our lesson. I'll see you later, Jake.”

“S-Sure! I'm gonna keep practicing. And, uh.. thank you for everything.”

“Of course.” You smiled again.

Tuk kneeled on the sand with frustration and slid her hands from the back of her head to the sides of her chin —almost digging the nails into her skin, messing up her hair in the process—. Tuk wanted to yell, but she ended up opening her mouth to let out muted screams. The girl rolled on the sand, throwing a silent tantrum that Jake didn't notice because he was too far, focused on his own thoughts: «Why do I feel like this?»

6. When Tuk asked Neteyam for help

“You have been doing what?” Neteyam scolded her when his little sister revealed why she needed help.. Tuk didn't like it when he was mad at her, especially when his arms were crossed and he was looking down at her.

“Dad has been alone since mom, and if there's someone who can make him happy it's them. Trust me, I have seen everything!”

“You mean ‘spy’ them?”

“I was just collecting evidence to confirm their feelings.”

“And?”

“Dad gets so nervous that he acts like a fool in front of them every, single, time. And karyu looks at sempul like he could fight a whole clan for them. They like each other! Please, Teyam! You have to believe me!”

Tuk wanted to be the director of this play, but she realized she needed help to succeed before it was too late. Neteyam was her best option for all she knew.

“Okay, okay. I will help you just this time. But if dad doesn't have feelings, then it's over. You will stop spying, hearing adult conversations and everything.”

“Pinky promise.” Tuk showed her fangs when she smiled.

“So, what's the plan?”

Tuk wanted Jake to give you something special, a gift. Maybe that would help both of you to confess what you're feeling. But she needed a motive. Fortunately, Jake passed the shell test very fast. The night he achieved another win, Jake arrived at the communal bonfire with you. And after Tuk told Neteyam all the little details she had noticed, he started to analyze too: his dad had a bright smile, bigger than all those lonely days where all he did was take care of the olo'eyktan’s chores. You were giggling, walking next to him.

“Kids, I finally made it.” Jake showed them the bright purple shell. The kids cheer proudly, hugging their dad.

“Was it hard, daddy?

“Not really, I had the greatest teacher.” Jake looked at you, silently thanking you again, like when he went to the surface after a long breath, showing you the smile piece on his hand.

“The credit isn't completely mine.” You sat down with your family a few seconds ago. The Sullys started to eat too, while their dad told them everything. A new story added to the menu of tales.

“You should give them a present as an official offer of friendship.” Neteyam started.

“Present? Mmm, I don't know. Na'vis have many meanings for presents, I don't want to make them uncomfortable.” Jake said while he took a piece of fruit.

“But daddy, Teyam is right. I gave them a lot of presents already! I know they love simple stuff!”

“Are you trying to say I can't do anything else than ‘simple’?” Jake messed with her hair.

“Well, you can make weapons.” Lo'ak said, trying to hype him up… unsuccessfully.

“Hey, I can make more than just weapons. I'll give them something nice.”

A few days later, Jake was at the very edge of frustration. He spent the whole afternoon thinking about what the perfect gift would be for you. But that wasn't Jake's fortress, so Neteyam found him in the marui, with tools and materials to work on the floor, and the shell in front of him, being appreciated in silence as Jake was about to give up.

“Dad, can I ask you a question?”

“Uh, sure.”

“Why are you trying to make it perfect so bad?”

“I guess I wanna prove myself to all of you. Don't tell your siblings.”

“I won't.” Both of them laugh. “Just that?”

“Well, I guess I wanna make something pretty for the heir of the metkayina throne. They have been kind and lovely with us, so they deserve something pretty.”

And that's when Neteyam knew Tuk was right. His dad wasn't the best with words, but Jake was really expressive. The oldest of the Sully kids saw the light on Jake's golden gaze when he talked about you.

“Then you should make the moment special.”

“What do you mean?”

“If you are so worried about what they might think, then make the moments unforgettable.”

“What's your suggestion?”

“I think I know who you should ask that…”

After a few minutes, a high-pitched voice filled the space with emotion. “And you have to give them flowers! We can prepare a cute spot in the small forest they have here, maybe with pillows, blankets, and sparkles! But they don't have glitter here.”

“Tuk, we don't have pillows and blankets here either.” Neteyam smiled. “I guess we can still look for a pretty spot.”

“And why flowers? I already have a present for them.” Jake spoke from the corner.

“Daddy! Don't be silly! The more gifts, the better!”

“Bad news. I don't even know what the main present is going to be.”

“Mmm.” Tuk scratched her chin. “They wear a lot of necklaces! It can be easy if you attach the shell to one of those ocean plants.”

Jake didn't want it easy. He waited two days to start with the crafting as he observed what kind of accessories you wore. Jake noticed you loved a certain rock and specific colors, so he decided to search inside aquatic caves for more stones. Also he crafted and painted wooden beads to add to the necklace. The only problem was that he needed to work really late, because sometimes you decided that you needed him right when he was in the middle of creating the best accessory for you.

“Jake?” The warrior hid everything under a blanket, dropping a few tools next to him. “What are you doing?” You asked, smiling, sliding into the Sullys’ house. Tuk saw you walking there from afar. She ran as fast as possible, trying to not lose any detail of the possible interaction that made her heart jump.

“I'm working on something for Kiri.” Tuk giggled when she heard Jake's excuse from outside.

“That's really sweet! Can I help you with something?”

“No!” Your smile dropped immediately. “I mean…” Jake chuckled, surprisingly. He never acted like that. “I want to do this myself. You know how I am, I want to prove myself.”

“Oh, well, I’m sure Kiri will like it anyway.”

“Why?”

“Because she loves you, and everything you do for your kids is from your heart.”

Those words got stuck with him when Jake finally had to give it to you. Somehow, it reassured him. Maybe you would like the present even if it was the worst work in all Pandora. Jake didn't know, but that last sentence was true. You would receive even the most insignificant rock that that man dug from the dirt. During the lessons, the communal dinner, or even across the shore when he was about to tame a tsurak again and you were fishing, you always searched his gaze. It's not necessary to say that the smile he reserved just for you made your head spin. That's why you would go with him anywhere too. You were just trying not to be obvious when you asked:

“I don't understand Jake. Where are we going?” Jake guided you, taking your hand. Neteyam and Tuk slid among the trees carefully.

“Tuk, we should give them space.” Neteyam whispered.

“Come on, Teyam. I know you want to know if he had the courage to confess too.”

“Ugh, okay. But just this time or dad will kill both of us.”

Jake stopped suddenly, seeing the tree with purple flowers that Tuk mentioned when Jake said he would get lost and never found the cave his kids prepared for this moment. Now, the pressure was getting real. His stomach sank a little, and sweat pooled on his hand. Apparently, Jake's heart didn't understand that he was just going to give you a present; he wasn't going to ride Toruk again. «I feel like a kid. What is this?”»

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes. Let's go inside the cave.” You followed him. After a few steps there was the place he was talking about.

“This cave? I have never been here. We need to be sure there aren't any animals. Also, this cave is not underwater and I don't have anything else but my knife.”

“Hey, don't forget you have the former forest olo'eyktan protecting you.”

Tuk giggled softly, covering her mouth because she was excited her dad was finally flirting. On the other hand, Neteyam furrowed his eyebrows, but one second later, he just hid his face, smiling, surprised by the way Jake was acting.

“Well, in that case…” You smiled.

Jake moved a curtain made by green leaves and pink flowers. Inside, there were bioluminescent plants and a pod emanating blue and white sparkles, next a basket full of fruit, and ulu'tah inib'sey mulsi (bowls) full of other variations of desserts. The beauty of Eywa surrounded them with grace, and Jake almost laughed when he saw a woven rug and some spongy thing that resembled human blankets and pillows —of course they were made with other materials.

“Wow, Teyam. That's awesome. Truly romantic.”

“What? I didn't-”

“We did.” Kiri said, hiding next to her siblings, Lo'ak came right behind them. “We figured out what Tuk was doing and catched Neteyam sneaking here to prepare everything.”

“I sincerely thought he was sneaking with someone.” Lo'ak whispered.

“Skxawng.”

“Shhh, I can't hear them.” The little girl complained.

“Jake, this is beautiful.” Your voice filled his chest with warmth. He was sure that the kids deserved

“And it's not the best part. Come, sit with me.” The tilt of his head, just a small gesture, made your heartbeat increase.

Both of you sat down on the rug. You were sure this was a human thing, but at the same time, it felt like what na'vi knew as a date. The least you needed was being delusional. However, you hope all the signs Jake apparently showed you all this time were what you thought they were.

Jake looked nervous next to you, fingering with the small bag attached on his hip. You tried to help, taking his hand and rubbing the extra finger that made him unique. Your action caused a reaction, Jake felt breathless when he realized how close you were. He could see the shades of colors in your eyes; the pattern of freckles that started on your forehead, crossed your cheekbones, and ended at your chin; the shape of your nose and the contour of your lips. You were perfect. Jake knew. His heart knew.

“If I think about it, I should have done this sooner, but this is the best occasion to give you something special. Because you have helped my whole family, you have been kind, but the most important thing is that you accepted us since day one. Even after I messed up with my mouth.” Both of you chuckled. “So, here it is. The present I made with my bare hands and motivation from little Tuk.” The girl smiled, still hiding, when her dad recognized her work.

The Sully kids huddled together among the leaves, feeling their skin prickle against them, just to get a glimpse of what Jake was showing you. They catched your reaction, but it was clearer for Jake, who was looking at you with expectation.

Your eyes widened, and your mouth opened slightly, then a smile adorned your face. What was hanging from Jake's hand was a thread made of marine plants that also held the most beautiful stones Jake could find, along with beads reminiscent of forest culture, all accompanying the protagonist of the gift: the purple shell you had thrown into the water the day he passed the final breathing test. The gift was so precious that your hands were shaking when you took it.

“Jake- I don't know what to say.”

“Just tell me if you like it.”

“Of course I do!”

Jake helped to put it on, and it laid beautifully on your collarbone, but his favorite part was that your whole face reflected how much you loved his work. You actually liked what he did. How couldn't you when it was a perfect symbol of pure affection? As the oldest child of the olo'eyktan and tsahìk you received presents before, but if they were sincere, you never felt a deep connection with the ones that gave them to you. This was not the case. You felt different… connected.

“This is not just a sign of friendship. I want to be so much more than just friends because you made me feel things I haven't felt in a while. Also, I think you are the most beautiful person inside and outside, and I wish you could give me the honor of doing many things with you in the future.”

“Jake, I see you.”

His pupils dilated when your words struck directly at his chest. Eywa, Jake wanted to answer you, say the same, but his emotions were kind of stuck in his throat. He was overwhelmed with his and your confession. That's why he embraced you when he felt the tears sliding down his cheeks. “I see you too.”

Jake mustered all his courage to gently cup your face in his hands and lean in slowly, just in case you decided you didn't want to. Your noses brushed against each other's before Jake pressed his lips to yours. When he finally felt the sweetness of the kiss, you both realized how much you needed this. One kiss wasn't enough to show what you felt, but now you had plenty of time to show it without fear of what the other might think.

With no exaggeration, Tuk was about to explode from happiness. She was going to scream, but Lo'ak covered her mouth. Everyone had to move quickly when the girl couldn't stop moving and started kicking her legs in the air in celebration.

“And we are out.” Neteyam whispered.

Inside, both of you acted like you didn't notice the kids outside and decided to enjoy the food while discussing what you were going to do with your relationship. Everything felt so special and romantic. You didn't want that to end, especially not now that Jake wanted to court you and have a future with you.

Taglist (to be added comment here):

“Kaltxì, Zalor,” she would reply, voice warm with an overabundance of joy. These days, [Y/N] felt like she couldn’t stop smiling, and while a part of it, she knew, was because Quaritch was officially dead as of four months ago, and the RDA was weaker than ever, [Y/N] knew the truth deep inside. 

“[Y/N]!” That was why. The moment she heard his voice, a comfortable warmth filled her chest, her stomach did a backflip, and she found it impossible to not turn around and look at him. He was a fair distance away, but she couldn’t help but let out a laugh at the speed he was moving, his dark blue skin standing out against the pale sand of Awa’atlu. “[Y/N]!” he hollered again, and finally [Y/N] waved at him.

“Hello, Neteyam,” she greeted, watching in amusement as he tripped on a sand dune, nearly sprawling out on all-fours, although he caught himself before any embarrassment could consume him. Still, at the sound of [Y/N]’s laughter, the boy looked up sheepishly, blushing just slightly.

Four months ago, when Quaritch was finally killed and the RDA was nearly defeated, Neteyam had nearly died. Every time she looked at that idiotic Sully-boy, she couldn’t help but let her eyes trail down to his shoulder where a nasty scar was left behind. A bullet, a sickening piece of the Sky-People’s artillery, had him seconds away from death, bleeding out in a cove, breathing the breaths they all thought would be his last.

[Y/N] had always been a quiet girl. She kept to herself, followed directions like good warriors do, didn’t make dangerous strides. But, that night, when she saw that boy, merely a good friend at the time, nearing death, it was as if she acted on instinct alone. She took him, before Toruk Mahkto or his mate had a chance to disagree, with Tsireya. The two girls, best friends since birth, practically flew across that ocean, [Y/N] holding Neteyam’s limp body steady aboard the ilu.

Tsireya, being the Tsakarem, knew what she was doing as soon as they reached her mother’s supplies. She worked in silence, [Y/N] helping whenever she was directed, and it felt like the world was about to cave in on itself. His shallowing breaths, the thickening puddle of blood, the dark sky outside full of nothing but fire.

Silently, [Y/N] prayed. With watchful, anxious eyes, she prayed to Eywa that Neteyam would be alright. That he would live, because if he didn’t… her stomach plummeted at the thought, and she pushed it away until it only lingered in the periphery of her mind.

An hour had passed, although it felt triple that for Tsireya and [Y/N], before the first warriors began to return. Many were injured, but none were seconds away from death in the same way Neteyam was. “[Y/N],” Tsireya had breathed out, shaky and unsure. “I need you to find my mother.”

When her friend had looked up at her after that, eyes glazed with fear, and worst of all, panic, [Y/N] knew she had to hurry. Tsireya was doing everything she could, but there eventually came a limit to her skills. For now, she could keep the Sully boy alive, but Ronal was the only one who could truly heal him.

“Where is Ronal?” she begged a warrior outside, a lovely boy named Rorín who was just around [Y/N]’s age. “Have you seen her?” When he only shrugged, helpless and injured, dread began to settle in [Y/N]’s chest.

She asked everyone gathered on the docks, ran to the incoming warriors to see if they had, at the very least, spotted her, but it was no use. Just when the tears pooled on her bottom lid, just when she felt that all hope was lost, she finally spotted them on the horizon. Two aqua blobs aboard their swimwings, weapons in hand.

“Tonowari!” She began waving her hands above her head, acting like a lunatic as she signalled to the couple. “Ronal!” Please, she begged, chest tightening, please notice me. And to her luck, she watched as Tonowari slowly pointed to her, redirecting his mate’s attention.

Relief flooded her body as they began moving in her direction, speed increasing tenfold the moment they realized [Y/N], practically an extra child with how close she was to Aonung and Tsireya, needed their help.

By the time they reached the docks, the Tsahik and Olo’eyktan of Awa’atlu were dismounting as soon as they could, feet carrying them to her panicked frame at a frantic speed. “[Y/N],” Tonowari reached out to grab her, checking her up and down for injuries, “what is the matter?”

“I am fine,” she admitted, voice raspy from the tears she’d shed over the past hour and a half. “I am fine, Tsireya is fine. But,” she turned to look at Ronal, desperation in her gaze, “we need your help.”

[Y/N] explained the situation to her on the way to her marui. Explained how the injury occurred, where on the body it was located, the speed in which they treated him, and lastly, explained that, while Tsireya was doing everything she could, they needed Ronal.

As they burst through the curtains, Ronal stifled a gasp at her daughter. Neteyam’s blood coated her arms, her supplies were scattered everywhere, and the boy was barely holding on from where he laid on her table. “Move,” Ronal ordered, and although the tone was demanding, her eyes told another story.

Tsireya backed away, bringing her hands to her face—to which [Y/N] quickly stepped in before they could even linger by her mouth, “We must go wash up,” she whispered gently—and small, quiet sobs wracked her body.

Ronal started working almost immediately, grabbing herbs and pastes and threads and needles, but, for a moment, she paused and looked back at the girls. Her girls. When she turned back to Neteyam’s body, she stated bluntly, “Leave me.” Then, a breath later, “I am proud of you both.”

[Y/N] could still feel the anxiety of that night. The way she and Tsireya shook as they washed the blood off their hands, their tears hot and silent. [Y/N], in desperation, clawed at his skin, trying to remove any sign that Neteyam was ever injured, but it was no use.

Aonung and Rotxo had found them first, their faces creased with concern as they crouched down, meeting their eyes as they asked, “[Y/N], Tsireya, what happened?” And, even as Tsireya relayed the story, voice faint, their faces never changed, their hands never left the girls’ shoulders. They kept them grounded, no matter how much they, too, wanted to cry.

That night, none of them had slept. Just around the bend, the Sully family was getting frantic as well. If [Y/N] listened closely, she could hear Neytiri’s sobs, Kiri’s soft prayers, Tuk’s comforting words. Jake and Lo’ak, as she could’ve guessed, remained silent. Stoic.

“He blames himself,” Tsireya whispered to [Y/N], the two watching the stars blink through the sky. “He blames himself for what happened to Neteyam. Because he made them go back, get their… human friend.”

“Have you spoken with him?” she asked her friend, her head dropping onto Tsireya’s shoulder as she dared, for just a moment, to close her eyes and tempt herself with rest.

She could feel Tsireya shake her head, her thick spirals of hair tickling [Y/N]’s back. “No,” she admitted before resting her chin atop [Y/N]’s head. “But, I know him.” Her eyes drifted to look at Rotxo and Aonung, just a few feet away, curled up and asleep. If it was any other circumstance, [Y/N] is sure she would laugh.

Hours passed, and [Y/N] and Tsireya seemed to take turns fading in and out of sleep. They were exhausted—physically, from having to fight Avatars and escape death on numerous counts, as well as mentally—but they were scared. Scared that, if they fell asleep, they would wake up and Neteyam would be gone.

But, the sun was finally cresting the next morning when the news finally came. [Y/N] would never forget how that felt—the light slowly creeping across her skin, breaking the chill of Awa’atlu’s cold nights. Waves lapped at the dock, soft, gentle, as if the ocean hadn’t any idea of the horrors that had taken place upon her open waters the night before.

[Y/N] dared to lift her head, rubbing exhaustion out of her eyes as she cast a look towards Ronal’s marui. Where Neteyam was lying, trying to beat death. No, she corrected herself, where he is beating death.

And then, the entrance flap opened, and Ronal stepped out.

At the sight, [Y/N] immediately popped up, stirring Tsireya. Instinctively, she grabbed her friend’s hand, and the girl shook her head, her face squished with confusion. “[Y/N]?” she rasped, sitting up slowly. “What is happening?”

All [Y/N] could think to do was grab Tsireya’s head, turning it so she finally looked at mother, waiting expectantly. While Ronal was busy watching the Sullys, silently willing them to come towards her, the Tsahik managed to cast a glance at her daughter and her friend. Then, for just a split second, as Neytiri and Jake were rushing to meet her, Ronal let herself smile. It was small, barely even there if you didn’t look for it, but [Y/N] and Tsireya saw it. And then, she nodded, and both girls knew exactly what she meant, no words necessary.

Neteyam was alive.

Ever since that fateful night, when [Y/N] had, well, helped save his life, there were three big discoveries. First off, Neteyam, and really the entire Sully family, had realized there was much more to [Y/N] than they had assumed. Neytiri had expressed that clearly, thanking the girl for her instincts, for her bravery. “You saved my son,” the Omatikayan woman exhaled, tears welling in her eyes as she squeezed [Y/N]’s hands. “Thank you.”

The second discovery was that there was much more to Tsireya, as well. Not only did Neytiri and Jake express their gratitude towards her, but her own mother finally—finally—expressed her pride. “You did the right thing, daughter. I knew you were intelligent, but I am more proud than ever to know you will be Tsahik in the future.”

The third discovery was, well, a whole lot of love. While Tsireya and Lo’ak already had preexisting interest in each other, this battle, although detrimental, only increased their feelings towards each other. Neteyam and [Y/N] however, were full of new beginnings.

New beginnings that, inevitably, led to a whole lot of secrecy just a month later.

Although, secrecy was beginning to feel like one big, fat lie. 

As Neteyam got closer, his deep blue skin now darkened by the constant barrage of sunlight, [Y/N] felt herself pull back to reality. Out of her memories, out of the terrors that have managed to haunt her, night by night, and instead, into the joy of the present. Into the joy of Neteyam.

“Are you busy?” the Omatikayan boy asked, although his words were slightly drowned out by his heavy breaths, suddenly exhausted from his trip across the sand dune. He stood next to her now, hands on his hips as he looked down with a small boyish grin.

[Y/N] laughed, waving a lazy hand in the air. “Technically, yes,” she admitted. “But, I can make time for you. If you need it,” she teased, eyes dancing with delight as the boy lowered himself to the sand and sat down right next to her. In front of her, a coil of rope—mangrove roots and tough sea plants, morphed together—sat at her feet. She was in the middle of weaving a fishing net, a tedious and arduous task.

“Did you draw the short straw today?” Neteyam asked knowingly. She’d complained about these chores very often to him, and clearly, it was reaching the point where it was a bit too much.

She sighed, leaning back so she rested her weight on her locked arms behind her, and shrugged. “I got to hunt yesterday, so now Aonung’s forcing me to stay here. Sucks that he gets to be all bossy all the time,” she complained with a groan.

“He is the future Olo’eyktan,” Neteyam offered with a laugh. “You’ll be hearing a lot more from him in the coming years.”

She rolled her eyes, although she couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled from her throat. “Yeah, don’t remind me.”

Ever since Neteyam began to recover, their relationship began to bloom. It was quiet at first, respectful, sweet. He didn’t domineer, he just… waited. Offered to help her when she needed it, spent more time around her, watched her in admiration. Soon, they began to see each other regularly, and before they knew it, they found any excuse they could to be together.

Eventually, the two would often sneak out, far after Eclipse, to find each other. [Y/N] brought him into a secret underground cove, one that she had kept to herself since her childhood, but now that she was grown, she finally decided it was time to share it. He was the first one she showed.

Neteyam and [Y/N], admittedly, shared a lot of firsts with each other.

One night, as they laid in that cove, backs pressed against the sand while the tide brushed against their toes, [Y/N] finally dared to ask. “Neteyam,” she caught his attention, voice gentle while she rolled, just slightly, to look at him.

Neteyam could feel her eyes on the side of his face and, habitually, he turned to meet her gaze. “Hm?” he hummed, a content smile resting on his lips. She watched as his gaze drifted—it trekked through her features, her eyes he so often complimented, her lips he could not get enough of, down to the waist he adored, her thighs—

“Eyes up here!” [Y/N] grabbed his chin with her hands, tilting it up so his eyes met hers once again. Laughter shook through his body, echoing across the small cave, and she felt her heart thump a bit faster at the sound. “I am trying to ask you a question here.”

“Alright,” he sighed dramatically, but the smile on his face betrayed him. “What do you want to know, ma’yawne?”

“Stop being such a flirt,” she teased, now fully turning on her side so she could get a full look at him. Her Neteyam. Finally, she took a breath and asked, “Was it me saving your life that convinced you to like me?”

Neteyam answered almost immediately. “No,” he said, with a shake of his head, shocking [Y/N] into pure confusion. “Oh, no. That was… no, [Y/N]. I have liked you since the very first moment I saw you.”

That was not what she’d been expecting.

“When we first arrived in Awa’atlu, you were… you were stunning, [Y/N], and everything in me told me to talk to you. But, I was a coward, and I knew you didn’t really like me, so it was never worth a try.” He shook his head, looking back up at the ceiling of the cave as if reliving his memories. “Then, I almost died. And you saved me. And I realized that, maybe—just maybe—you liked me too.”

An ugly guffaw echoed from [Y/N]’s mouth before she could stop it. Almost immediately, at hearing the sound, she clasped a hand on her lips, face heating up in embarrassment. “That was so much louder than I meant,” she whispered, and this time, both of them erupted into laughter.

“[Y/N]?” Neteyam’s voice brought her out of her head and back to the present. The present where she was still seated on the beach weaving stupid fishing nets because Aonung decided to be an asshole that morning. “[Y/N], are you okay?”

As she snapped back into it, [Y/N] turned to look at Neteyam, whose face was a mixture of amusement and slight concern. “Sorry,” she breathed, a sheepish grin shifting the corners of her mouth upwards. “Stuck in my head.”

He chuckled, shrugging. “It is alright, [Y/N],” he offered, his eyes lingering on her mouth for a second too long. She knew he wanted to kiss her—she wanted to kiss him too—but everything they’d done over the past three months—every kiss, every sensual touch, every deep conversation—had been in secret.

There were many reasons for their secret, but it was primarily because of their parents. In the case of Neteyam, he had a very… expectant mother and father. They’d been pushing him to find a mate right before they’d left High Camp—believing that he would still be the future Olo’eyktan at the time—and now, a part of him was scared they still expected him to create a life back at home. Especially knowing that Quaritch was gone, and the RDA would disappear within the next ten years anyway.

As for [Y/N], her parents were still pushing her to find a mate. To find a strong, stable life with some Metkayina warrior and create strong, stable babies. Just like her mother had done before her, and her grandmother before that. She wasn’t nearly as pressured as Neteyam was—she had no problem fighting her parents, in truth—but it still scared her to think about.

She knew she really wouldn’t have that conversation with them anytime soon, anyway. Well, not until she was truly ready to mate.

But, even though they intended their relationship to remain under wraps regarding their parents, there was only so much they could do when it came to their siblings and friends. While Neteyam and [Y/N], during that first month, believe they were more stealthy and secretive than ever, it turned out, they were anything but.

Tsireya was the first one who noticed. She watched how [Y/N]’s shoulders straightened when she saw Neteyam, how her breathing shallowed, her grin became softer. Easier. And then Neteyam was more joyous than ever. Despite having almost died a month earlier, he would not stop smiling. And his gaze… his gaze was so gentle when he looked at that girl. So kind, so sweet.

Tsireya had, idiotically, asked Lo’ak his opinion on this matter. “You don’t think they’re… seeing each other, do you?” While Lo’ak had no helpful information, he did have a very large mouth that accidentally told Aonung, who told Rotxo, who told Kiri, who confronted Neteyam about it right in front of Tuk. (Not to mention, the amount of bribery it took for Tuk to not tell on them.)

Luckily, their friends didn’t care—they were more annoyed than anything. Annoyed that Neteyam and [Y/N] had kept it a secret from them and for so long. In fact, it was shockingly Aonung who had said, “You know, I literally knew this was gonna happen. Didn’t I, Rotxo?”

Rotxo could only shrug. “Yeah, he bet on it like three weeks ago.” Then, the boy blinked. “Shit, I owe you, don’t I?”

Aonung slapped his friend on the shoulder cheerily. “Two months of chores, if I remember correctly.”

But, even if their friends knew, both Neteyam and [Y/N] knew that their parents would not have as gentle of a reaction. So, even if [Y/N] felt every urge to grab the back of his neck and kiss him right then and there, on that beach, in front of the stupid fishing nets, she couldn’t.

Instead, she smiled softly, looking down at her tired fingers, and whispered, “Will I see you tonight?”

You wore your title with honor, keeping yourself busy around the clan; teaching children how to make songcords, helping warriors gather their gear, handling the ilus, preparing healing tonics and herbs. The list could go on.

What time did you have for menial things? You wanted to show your people the meaning of being a leader.

No matter how many times you caught Tonowari staring, you wanted nothing to do with him. You made that much clear.

That is, you thought you did.

Once, after a hunting expedition, he approached you, brushing past other na'vi until he was right in front of you. With a sheepish expression, he held out a gorgeous scallop shell. “For you,” he smiled.

The shell dwarfed in his big hand, and a small part of you was rather flattered by the gift. It was beautiful, a sandstone red with some hints of yellow. It would make for a breathtaking headpiece.

Yet, you became aware of the clan members around you, watching the interaction with anticipation.

What would they think of their next tsahik if she could be easily swooned? By a shell no less?

You scowled, “put it back where it belongs,” you snapped, promptly turning away.

Pushing past a few na'vi, you stormed towards your marui pod, crossing over the woven bridges.

You wondered if you had been too harsh, that maybe you would’ve set a better example if you rejected his offer calmer.

But all Tonowari could think about was how your hair bobbed with the rhythm of your steps.

——

Today had begun like any other day, with you overseeing your typical responsibilities. The ocean was particularly calm, with bright sunshine sparkling against the turquoise surface.

Waves lapped at the golden shore in a slow, rhythmic fashion. The ilus clicked contentedly. Everything was good.

Inside your marui pod, you carefully sliced strips of seaweed with your crystal blade. Wooden bowls were strewn around your bench, each holding another healing herb.

You were peacefully engaged with what you were doing, especially on such a nice day like today.

Until you heard footsteps creaking the woven ropes in front of your pod.

“Tsakarem,” the voice was deep and resonant, and irritatingly recognizable. You didn’t even have to turn around to know it was him.

Instantly, your mind snapped out of its focused state. Taking a deep breath in, you replied evenly: “I am busy.”

“Please.”

Something in the tone of his voice made you reconsider. Turning around, you observed Tonowari and his puppy-eyed expression.

Standing in the entryway, with his massive frame, he lifted his forearm—marked with a bleeding cut.

Your eyes widened, “Tonowari,” you clicked your tongue, concern lacing your tone. You got up from your spot and ushered him inside, motioning with your arms, “you should have lead with that,” you reprimanded.

He followed you inside, giving an apologetic smile.

You turned around and began preparing a remedy back at your bench. "Sit," you ordered.

Obediently, he did so.

Scooping up a few bowls and placing them on a tray, you approached Tonowari and took his hand.

Carefully, yet moving with practiced ease, you tended to his injury; wrapping his arm with the freshly cut seaweed, coated with a special plant-made gel to help close the wound.

The pod fell quiet. Neither of you tried to start a conversation. Between you absorbed in your task, and Tonowari being a good patient, the silence was surprisingly peaceful.

“There. And don’t be so reckless next time,” you huffed, your voice cutting through the tranquil atmosphere.

Smiling softly, as if not perturbed by your bluntness, he gave one, single promising nod, “of course.”

You returned the nod, watching him leave.

He made his way towards the entry, but lingered at the entrance. “Tsakarem?”

“What is it?” You asked, placing the items back on the tray.

“Will you ride ilus with me later?”

There was a brief pause. For those few moments, only the distant shouts of other Metkayina could be heard, carried by the soft breeze that made its way into the pod. It circled between you two, but it made your answer no less sharp.

“No.”

His ears briefly flattened at the rejection. Pressing his lips together, he stoically nodded and left.

Just as his frame was out of view, your mother entered the pod next. "Daughter, what is the meaning of this behavior?"

Startled, you turned and gave her a confused look. “What do you mean?”

“With Tonowari.”

"I helped him with an injury, mother," you sighed. “I fulfilled my duties.”

She scoffed, "Tonowari is a proud warrior of our clan. Part of being tsahik is learning about your people.” Her hands rested on her hips, and a stern expression marked her face. “There was no need to dismiss him so quickly.”

“But—”

She raised her hand, implying no room for arguments. “Go. I will finish preparing these herbs.”

——

Later in the evening, as the sky faded into a dark gradient of pinks and purples, you dipped into the water. It wasn’t warm, but not freezing either. Your ilu clicked as it circled playfully around you.

Connecting your kuru with your ilu’s, you gripped the saddle handle and went forth towards one of the docks.

The water flowed around you like a thicker wind. By this point in the evening, the bioluminescence of the reef began shining; lights of pinks, blues and greens reflected against your eyes.

Slowly, you surfaced.

Tonowari held a crystal blade and sharpened the end of his harpoon. His frown was deeper set than usual. You could only guess why…

“Tonowari,” was all that managed to come out of your mouth.

He looked up and immediately paused what he was doing, his knife midway along the harpoon head.

Your ilu chirped in greeting as you halted it. You continued, “I don’t suppose… you’d still like to ride ilus?” You asked.

“But I thought you weren’t interested.”

“I changed my mind.” You shrugged, giving a small smile.

The corners of his mouth twitched, and his eyes softened. He placed the harpoon on the dock and slid the blade back into it's sheath. Letting out a whistle for his own ilu, he dived into the water, resurfacing shortly on it's back. "Lead the way," he grinned.

——

By the time the two of you were done racing through the reefs, the sky had darkened completely to a deep navy. The two of you were sat on the dock from before, looking up at the magnificent sight of Jupiter illuminated in the night sky.

Droplets of water beaded down your skin, and a few stands of hair stuck to your forehead.

Beside you, Tonowari turned to you, his voice soft, "did you have fun?"

You kept your eyes on Jupiter. Truthfully, you enjoyed your time with Tonowari more than you'd like to admit. But you couldn't be cruel and so no... again. Breaking your eyes away from the looming planet, you turned to him. "I did."

"Good, I'm glad."

A small pang of guilt gnawed away at you. As if sensing your troubles, Tonowari looked at you.

"I'm sorry," you began.

"For what?"

You bit the inside of your cheek, hating how bitter the words tasted. "For how I treated you before. I had been so focused on my duties as the future tsahik that I didn't want the clan to think I was being careless. So I never accepted your advances, but I never considered how it might've hurt you."

"There is no need to be sorry," he assured softly. You regarded him cautiously, thrown off-guard by his understanding. You expected him to think you were pathetic. He picked up on your confusion and elaborated, gesturing with his hand, "it is one of the things I like about you. Your drive and diligence... it is inspiring."

Somehow, his words sparked something within you. "It is?"

"Very much." He nodded.

You smiled, flattered, and averted your eyes. All of a sudden, there was this newfound sense of security in your goals. You weren't a disappointment to your clan, but the very leader you hoped you would be. "Thank you, Tonowari."

Carefully, he placed his hand on top of yours. The gesture was unexpected, but after your heart settled, you finally welcomed the advance. You intertwined your fingers with his.

Smiling at each other, you both looked out into the horizon, enjoying the peaceful night together. As the waves gently caressed the sand with slow, rhythmic sloshing, and the rest of the clan were in their hammocks, you took in a breath of seaside air.

hes the kinda boyfriend to defend you no matter what, like with his fucking life

hes got that warrior older son mentality, he will not hesitate to punch a mf for you

loves just slinging an arm around your shoulders just cause

also really likes messing with your hair, whether it be braiding it or putting it into twists or locs or just running his fingers through it, he just likes touching your hair

if you dont rlly have a parental figure, trust he will do your hair for you

if youre ever in the forest (non metkayina / au where he lives) he helps you bond with an ikran :D

(if metkayina / never see forest together) you help him bond with an ilu for the first time, and later a skimwing

if youre shorter than him in any sense, he likes carrying you around on his back / shoulders

also if youre human, he does call you 'little one' like how he calls spider little bro because youre short 😭

if youre as tall as him / taller than him, hed probably lowkey melt

hed do the nervous swaying on his feet and look at you how jake looked at neytiri when they were young

like his tail will swing all nervous and he'll try to hide it but he cant

hes a fluster bug deep down just like his dad 😭😭😭

he just loves teaching you things

random stuff he learned from his parents, random facts about the flora and fauna of the forest, lore about eywa and stories he grew up hearing

he really likes making you things too

random decorated knives and holsters, even a bow if you want one

he teaches you on the spot how to use a gun

funsies

also need to add this man would never yell at you

he may get frustrated or upset but he'd never yell (also no i dont believe he ever yelled at lo'ak, he was either warning him or trying to talk him out of a bad decision, at the end of the day theyre brothers and shit happens pls dont come for my head)

hes that one meme thats like "my partner and I dont argue, they tell me to stfu and I do" 💀

he loves just making memories with you

he wants to show you the world

the edges of the planet are yours to explore and he wants to make sure you can see it all

even in memories through the spirit tree (if you can access them) he has this strong desire to just take you places and show you things and its so 💔💔💔

you never tell him how he dies in your memories w him because he'll forget the next time you see him anyways

and you wanna enjoy what time you have with him

"y/n/n, look! ikran racing over there, on your 12, see?!"

dude the way his eyes glimmer with wonder get the fuck away from me