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~Warnings: mentions of death and near-death experience, survivorâs guilt, emotional trauma, possessive/protective Neteyam, canon divergence (Neteyam lives), mutual pining, slow burn
~Description: ~Neteyam Sully was supposed to die.
He knows it. The clan knows it. Eywa knows it.
Instead, he lives â and something inside him doesnât.
You miss him.
You noticed it right away. He was distant.
Aloof.
Depressed.
It wasnât sudden. Not enough for anyone else to question. But you felt it immediately, like a shift in the air before a storm.
He would swerve out of the way as you walked towards him, striking up a conversation with whoever was closest and wasnât you. His voice would lift just slightly, like he was trying too hard to sound normal. Like he was performing distance.
You crave him.
You had come to lean on his presence. It had slipped into your life so naturally you hadnât realized it was happening until it was gone.
You want him near you. You want his smell, his touch, his affections. You want him wrapped around you, steady and grounding and always there.
But heâs gone.
Not truly gone. Not dead. Not lost.
Just not yours anymore.
________________________________
It was agony to do the right thing.
He thought he was doing the right thing.
He repeats it to himself the same way he repeats everything else, quiet, constant, like a rule he cannot break.
He still kept those pestering, demeaning men away from you. He still picked up tasks so you wouldnât have to. Still watched from the edges. Still made sure nothing touched you that shouldnât.
But he stopped touching you.
Stopped standing beside you.
Stopped letting himself exist in your space.
And in doing so, he freed up your time.
In freeing up your time, he opened the door for the Metkayina to court you.
Your father started sending men your way. Many warriors attempting to impress you with pretty words, strong tails, and big muscles. They spoke loudly. Confidently. They filled space in a way Neteyam never had to.
He watched from a distance.
Assessed them.
Measured them in silence.
None of them did all he did for you.
None of them noticed the small things. None of them anticipated your needs before you spoke. None of them watched you like you were something to protect, not something to win.
They are inadequate.
It settles in him, sharp and certain.
Itâs been a month.
A month without your smell. Your touch.
A month without you.
You had grown cold towards him.
Thatâs what he had wanted.
Thatâs what he told himself.
You started entertaining these men. At first, politely. Then more easily. To the point that they started to come back. To the point that they expected to.
He would constantly have to watch you with the same couple of men.
Watch as they fawned over you.
Watch as they fought for your affections.
Watch as they leaned too close. Spoke too softly. Laughed too easily at things that werenât funny.
He watched the gifts he wove for you, the ones you had worn daily without fail, slowly get replaced by jewelry and weavings from new men.
One piece at a time.
Like he was being peeled away from you.
He felt so alone.
It sits heavy in his chest, deeper than the wound ever did. Quieter, but worse.
Not at the edges. Not in the distance. Not watching. Not near.
Gone in a way that felt wrong.
You decided to give these men a chance.
Maybe one could live up to him.
Maybe one could feel like him.
Maybe that was the problem.
It didnât work.
Every touch feels wrong.
Every glance feels empty.
Every gift that isnât from him feels like something you have to pretend to appreciate.
You try. You really do.
But it never settles.
It never feels right.
Your light starts to fade.
You notice it slowly. In the way you laugh less. In the way things feel heavier. In the way your patience wears thin by the end of the day.
You once found happiness in everything. Brought a little light to everyone. It came easily. Naturally.
The only person that gave you light back is now gone.
And no one else knows how.
You sit, dejected, in your marui.
The woven walls feel smaller than they used to. The air feels still. You spend less time outside recently. It was hard to be happy all the time. To do othersâ work for them. To pretend you are important as the youngest daughter of Tonowari.
To pretend you donât feel the absence of something you never even named.
He comes to you then.
Your father.
âIt is time,â he says.
His voice is not unkind. Not forceful. Just firm in the way leaders are when something has already been decided.
Heâs invited other clans. Heâs invited his own warriors.
They will come.
They will stand before you.
They will be judged by you.
You had completed iknimaya ages ago. Proved yourself. Earned your place.
It was time.
You would choose a mate.
And you would get the next bead on your songcord.
One that was long overdue.
Your fingers curl slightly in your lap.
"Ok"
___________________________________
They come in waves.
Metkayina in all shades of blue.
From clans nearby and far off.
Some you recognize, some you pretend you do.
The marui are fuller than youâve ever seen them. Voices overlap, laughter rises and falls, the ocean air feels thick with expectation.
You put in more effort.
Your father asked you to dance, to hunt, to fish, to swim.
To show these men youâre strong, even as a later born child.
You do it.
You do all of it.
On stage you swirl, spin, drape, flow. Move like the ocean around you. Your body bends and follows the rhythm youâve known your whole life. You feel the sand crunch beneath your feet, grounding you, keeping you steady.
The beads on your weaving clink as you sway.
He made them for you.
Everything you wear, he made for you.
Your fingers brush against them mid-turn, a subconscious reminder. A tether.
Youâre calling out to him.
Begging him to see you.
He does not.
___________________________________________
Youâre there. He can't take his eyes off you.
Youâre up there dancing in garments he made you.
Youâre up there begging for him to save you.
The fanfare around him has been overwhelming.
The noise. The people. The constant talk.
Hearing these men here talk about you only makes him miss you more.
It sits wrong in his chest. Twists.
They speak like they know you.
Like they need you.
Like they deserve you.
He walks and fills his plate, barely looking at what he takes. His mind is elsewhere. Always elsewhere.
Heâs going to make any excuse to sit close and watch you dance.
He knows itâs unfair to be upset.
He started it.
He created this distance.
He told himself this is what was right.
But he canât help it.
He sits so close to you. Close enough that if you misstep, if your foot lands wrong, you could kick him.
He almost wants it.
Almost craves even a touch from you that causes him harm.
At least you would have touched him.
His eyes donât leave you.
Not once.
________________________________________________
It starts as murmurs.
Low voices behind him.
A group of men, gathered just far enough to think they arenât heard.
One of them laughs.
âYou see her? Tonowariâs daughter.â Another hums in agreement. âStrong alliance,â one says. âStrong blood.â Then another voice, sharper, more amused. âAnd a pretty one too. That is a bonus.â
Neteyamâs grip tightens around the edge of his plate.
They keep going.
âI wonder if sheâs got anything behind the smile,â one says, tone lazy. âNot that it matters." A chuckle. âDoesnât have to. Just needs to sit there and look pretty.â
More laughter. âWatching her pretty facial expressions as I fill her up over and over. Watching her stomach swell with my children. That's all I need her for.â Agreement ripples through them. Nods. Grins. Casual.
Like itâs nothing.
Like you are nothing.
Neteyam goes very still.
Something cold settles in him.
Not sharp.
Not explosive.
Just⊠final.
He sets his plate down slowly.
Stands.
No one notices at first.
He walks over, calm. Controlled. His expression unreadable.
He stops beside the one who spoke the most.
âCome with me,â he says quietly.
The man barely has time to react before Neteyamâs hand is on his arm, firm, unyielding.
They step away. Out of sight. Out of earshot.
The moment theyâre alone, it happens.
The punch is fast.
Clean.
It lands hard against the manâs face, snapping his head to the side.
He stumbles, curses, swings back.
They scuffle.
Sand shifts under their feet. Breath turns sharp. Hands grab, shove, strike.
Neteyam doesnât hold back.
Doesnât think.
He moves like he was trained to. Precise. Efficient.
It doesnât take long.
He gets him in a headlock, arm tight around his throat, forcing him still.
The man struggles, choking slightly.
Neteyam leans in, voice low, deadly calm.
âYou will not speak about her like that.â The man laughs weakly, trying to play it off. âSheâs meant to be chosen, is she not? That is the point of this.â Neteyam tightens his hold. âShe is not something you get to use.â
Silence.
Heavy.
The man stills.
Neteyamâs voice drops further.
âIf I hear you speak about her like that again, I will do more than this.â
It isnât a threat thrown out in anger.
Itâs a promise.
He lets him go.
The man stumbles forward, catching himself, breathing hard, shaken now.
Neteyam knows it would wound the man's pride to reveal that an Omitikaya brought him to the ground.
Neteyam doesnât look back at him.
He doesnât need to.
He stands there for a moment, chest rising and falling, something settled deep inside him.
Clear.
Certain.
He tried to step back.
Tried to let you choose.
Tried to do the right thing.
But thisâŠ
This is what happens when he isnât there.
When he isnât beside you.
When he isnât yours.
His jaw tightens.
No.
He wonât let this happen.
He wonât let them near you.
He wonât let them touch you.
He wonât let them think they can have you.
Not like this.
Not ever.
He makes the decision then.
He will fight for your hand.
And he will not lose.
___________________________________________
You go to bed drained.
You watched Neteyam watch you.
You watched him disappear into the crowd and not come back.
You thought he might stay. He made such a statement sitting so near you. You hoped this was a step forward.
You suppose it wasn't.
The night was long.
Men constantly pulling you to walk to them. Their hand resting on your lower back, almost respectful, but definetly daring.
You felt grimy.
As night fully fell and you tossed and turned you made a desision.
You trecked out into the night. Into the forests behind the ocean villiage. To a natural warm pool flowing in from ocean vents. It was clear and comforting.
Slowly you slip off your garments. they clink to the forest floor.
You slip into the water and dive under feeling your muscles relax.
You let yourself float your chest open to the air, your head resting buoyant on the water. The forest echoes around you. Song cherps and shrieks echo, and the sound of the beach waves nearby almost lulls you to sleep. It's the calmest moment you've had since Neteyam.
You start to think of your life that way. Before Neteyam. After Neteyam. It makes your soul sink. Your heart feels cold and empty without him.
You suppose your faather did this to help. He must've known, to some degree, your need for that male. That male who left you high and dry. You know he wanted to help fill that void, to bring back his happy cheery bright daughter. But every glance, every converstation had without him just made your worse.
You hear a crunch then and freeze sinking down so only your eyes poke over the water.
___________________________________________
He had been watching you.
He hadn't really meant to. He snuck out to listen to the calming noises from the forest. To clear his head. To get away from the noise of celebration and expectation and everyone looking at you like something to be won.
And he saw you.
Moonlight filtered through the trees in broken pieces, silver against the dark water. The air was damp and warm, filled with the sound of insects and the soft movement of waves against stone.
He watched as you shed your weavings.
Slowly. Casually. Unaware.
He watched the moon glint off your curves and drip down your body, accentuating every dip and curve. Water kissed your skin as you stepped deeper into the pool, your body glowing beneath the pale light. His skin flushed purple as he watched, knowing he should turn away.
He can't.
His chest rises slowly. His breath catches. Something heavy settles deep inside him.
He watches you float in circles. The water carries you gently, your hair spreading around you like ink, your eyes closed as though this is the only place you can finally breathe.
He had always craved you, but seeing this opened something inside him he had never thought of before.
He had been drawn to your energy, your warmth, the way you carried light even when the world tried to take it from you. But seeing you, floating there, exposed to the world, soft and trusting and completely unaware of him watching...
Something inside him snaps into place.
He wants you.
Body and mind.
Every piece of you.
You're his.
He'll show you.
He makes his decision then and steps out of the brush.
The leaves shift beneath his feet, quiet but enough for your ears to twitch toward him. Your eyes open slowly, immediately finding him standing there at the edge of the water.
He watches you relax and slip slightly lower in the water, enough that he can see your bare shoulders and nothing more.
He wants so much more.
Your eyes question him. He had been distant for so long but now he's sought you out in your most vulnerable time.
The moonlight catches his face now that he's closer. You can see the tension in his jaw, the exhaustion in his eyes. Something desperate sits beneath his skin.
He can see then your body isn't the only thing exposed.
Your energy is raw and fraying.
You're in pain.
He caused that.
Guilt twists inside him so sharply he almost stops moving altogether.
But he continues to walk forward, not bothering to shed his tweng. He wades in towards you, the water ripples and splashes as he descends. The water climbs slowly up his body, soaking the fabric clinging to his skin.
You think you would tense, would turn away.
You don't want to scare him off.
You want him to stay.
He's next to you now. You can feel the warmth from his body now radiating in your direction. Even surrounded by cool water, he feels warm. Solid.
Safe.
âI want to be yours,â he says, meeting your eyes with such intensity it almost steals the air from your lungs.
There is no hesitation in him now.
No distance.
No pretending.
You don't freeze, you don't tense.
Everything inside you releases.
The ache in your chest loosens all at once, sudden and overwhelming.
He reaches his arms out and you relax into him instantly, like your body had been waiting for this.
âI am already yours,â you say, echoing his sincerity.
Your voice cracks slightly at the end and his expression softens immediately.
He needs you close.
Closer than you are now.
He lifts your body, tugging you to him tighter. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist beneath the water as his arms secure themselves around you like he's afraid you'll disappear if he loosens his grip.
His head moves to rest in the crook of your neck.
He breathes you in deeply.
You smell clean, like a combination of ocean and forest, a combination of him and you. Saltwater and damp earth and something underneath that is entirely yours.
His eyes close.
For the first time in months, he feels calm.
Tears are running down your face as you hug. Warm against his skin. You finally feel him again. His touch all around you, overwhelming your senses.
You missed this.
Missed him.
Missed being held like he never wanted to let go.
You want him to claim you.
Fully.
You want everyone to know.
But he pulls away.
Not far. Never far.
He doesn't set you down, just moves his face from the crook of your neck to gently kiss your forehead. His lips linger there for a moment, soft and reverent.
âI will claim you properly. I will win clan favor and honor you,â he says, pulling back to meet your gaze.
The seriousness in his expression makes your chest tighten.
He means it.
Every word.
You groan slightly at the fact he's going to make you wait, but you understand he wants to do this right.
A quiet laugh leaves him then. Small. Breathless. The first real laugh you've heard from him in a long time.
His thumbs brush against your sides beneath the water absentmindedly, like he simply needs to feel that you're still there.
He stands there holding you a while longer.
The water moves gently around your bodies. The forest hums quietly around you. Somewhere above, the moon watches through the trees.
He's made his decision.
He will make everyone understand that you two deserve each other.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Qualityâ Free Actions
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
