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Virago: Chapter 3

Neteyam x fem na’vi!omaticaya!reader

Characters:

Ka’lik- (like you would pronounce “Malik”) Y/n’s father, deceased, a warrior and hunter of the

omaticaya clan. A teacher to young warriors undergoing iknimaya.

Zensira-deceased, Y/n’s mother, spider's adoptive mother, a strong hunter and the best singer in the omaticaya clan, and a teacher to young hunters.

Kailo-(Y/n’s ikran. Your ikran is a male)

Popiti-(tuk’s best friend according to the visual dictionary)

(Also idk how many of you know this but Jake’s ikran’s name is canonically ‘Bob’.)

(WARNINGS!

Sharing a sleeping hammock with the opposite gender (non-romantically)-

Neytiri hating on spider/ mentions of insecurities, heartbreak, war,/ fluff/ angst/ mentions of hunting, killing animals, mentions of therapy, military, ptsd, romance, pining, use of military terms/codewords/ fluff ending!

Let me know if I missed anything.

Chapter desc:

Kiri convinced y/n to unload some of her lingering feelings for Neteyam. Y/n reveals that the incident all those years ago that took her parents scarred her deeper than she could have ever anticipated. Is this a battle the mighty archer can’t win? Neteyam has a confrontation with a pathetically simpering Kyuna.

Authors note:

Here we go! Chapter 3!! It feels insane to be posting the actual third chapter of this. But holy moly, building up romance is much harder than I thought. This chapter is a long one so grab your favorite snack, find a comfy spot and buckle up.

I have a small request for my lovely virago readers, please comment on your favorite line, moment, quote, or dynamic from this chapter. This is so I can know what kind of stuff you guys incline towards so I can throw more of it in as the story continues.

IMPORTANT:

hi guys. So I’ve decided to change spiders age from 20 to 19 for plot purposes. Jake and Neytiri are the same age. Tuk is still 7. Kiri is 19, neteyam is 19, Lo’ak and Y/n are 18.

This chapter is split into 3 parts due to tumblers dumbass word limit. This is part 1.

V I R A G O

Chapter 3;

Cupid Wears A Blindfold.

Y/n’s pov-

Word count: 28k (split)

Lo’ak snores. He snores a lot.

This was no epiphany to you, of course. Lo’ak had always been a snorer, much like Jake.

Ever since the sully’s welcomed you into their home when moving to high camp, sleeping arrangements were always abit of a puzzle.

Tuk often slept in all sorts of weird positions. Often rustling and twitching in her sleep. Some nights she nestles her way in between Jake and Neytiri, the poor couple waking up to an elbow jabbing into their skin.

Kiri was your second best option. She didn’t toss or turn, she didn’t kick or jab or roll. Your only deterrent? Kiri mumbled. Oftentimes talking in her sleep to some soft sung spirit she felt within her own solace, her own safety, her own world.

This never found itself to be a disturbance for you. You didn’t mind the mumbling. Kiri however, claimed ‘she loved you too much to keep you up at night’, and wouldn’t hear a word of it when you tried to convince her that it didn’t bother you.

But it wasn't completely in favor of your sleep schedule. Kiri liked her privacy. And you knew that. Better than most, actually. But that’s what was special about your bond with Kiri. You didn’t need words to understand her. And she loved you for it.

I don’t think I need to explain why sharing a hammock with Jake and Neytiri seemed out of the question.

And though most nights it seemed tempting, sleeping with Neteyam was a no-go.

And here you laid. Staring at the ceiling of the Sully family’s tented Marui home, while everyone slept, you damned yourself restless.

Lo’ak kept snoring in your ear, his breath hitting your neck.

His arm lazily thrown above both your heads, his leg sprawled across your shins. You huffed, attempting to turn the opposite way. The uneven weight caused the tent to dip unanticipatedly, causing you to gasp. Your hand reaches towards the wall to steady the motion, and to prevent you and lo’ak from falling.

You squeezed your eyes shut, taking a breath before shifting yourself evenly again, and Lo’ak continued to snore, his tail now poking your hip.

Your ears perked up at the sound of a soft rustling, and a gentle yawn.

“Y/n?”

You turn your head, seeing a sleepy Kiri blink at you slowly, her bright golden eyes adjusting to the light.

“What’re you doing up?”

She rested on her elbows, elevating herself a bit to see you more clearly.

You sighed, glancing back at Lo’ak.

“Oh. You know. Just doing a little late night praying. Praying that eywa will take me before his snoring does.”

Your blank tone made Kiri giggle, stifling her laughs with her palm.

“Oh trust me. I've shared a tent with him longer than you have.”

Silence draws between you both as your quiet chuckles slowly start to simmer away under the dark tent top.

Kiri sits up slightly, gesturing with one hand for you to come closer.

You shake your head, hesitantly treading her offer. You knew how kiri liked her distance.

“I don’t want to be a bother.”

“You? A bother? Y/n, you’re probably the person in this entire tent that bothers me the least.”

You crack a smile, huffing out a small sigh of defeat.

You slip out of your hammock, slithering your way over small objects that became obstacles on the floor with stealthy yet lethargic motions. of the family’s home before successfully snuggling under the blanket of kiri’s larger hammock. Now comfortable without the cramped positioning.

She chuckled, rubbing your back.

“Comfy?”

You nod, smiling at her.

“You're a lifesaver, Kiri. My hero.”

She ruffles your braids, winking.

“Nah. If anything, you are my hero.”

Kiri and you have always been close, ever since you were children. Your mother and Neytiri were practically attached at the hip, and since you, spider, and lo’ak were always a package deal, you and kiri had grown up playing together.

Kiri was softer spoken as a child, and you were loud and energetic. Your mother always said you were an ocean, and kiri was a lake. You, a soul syncing with the vigorous symphonies of azur-string reprised tidelines and honey-hidden siren songs. The ocean forgives, but it never forgets. Its strength is unmeasured. It waits for nothing.

Kiri was a lake. Lush green ripened grass sits along yellowed-tinted sun hazed stems of oddly-shaped wildflowers and imperfect patterns imprinted on petals. She was calm in the still moving water. You were the strength of the sea.

You always felt protective over Kiri.

A part of you couldn't help it. The day you and Kiri grew closer was the same day Jake had to meet with the Olo’eyktan of the Tawkami clan. The day the Chief’s children were teasing Kiri about her fingers. You and Kiri were about 8 at the time, and she really only saw you play around the village or carrying spider on your back as you trailed behind your mother and her daily chores. Or when your mom walked Lo’ak back to his family’s hut the morning after a sleepover with you and spider.

The day the Tawkami Chief’s children that accompanied him were picking and poking at Kiri’s fingers.

And where were you? Right there beside her. Threatening to feed the children to your mother’s ikran and telling them that your human brother would come and give them his demon blood “diseases” if they didn’t leave her alone.

They stopped picking on her, and she stuck by you from then on. Cause no one knew how to better handle bitchy 9 year olds than you did.

Kiri yawns, gently rolling on her side.

“Get some sleep, Y/n.”

You mumbled an ‘mhm’ before letting your eyes drift shut.

Its been about 15 minutes and sleep still evades you. The comforting vibrations of kiri’s warmth doesn’t seem to lull you like you assumed it would.

“Are you awake?”

Kiri whispered, and it startled you a bit. You assumed she was asleep.

You turned to face her and nodded. Her yellow eyes glowing evergreen tints in the darkness.

“Yes. But don’t let me keep you from sleeping, Kiri.”

She shrugs.

“I can’t sleep either.”

You both stay quiet for a moment, letting the silence settle.

“So, Makeyo spoke with you today?”

The same uneasy feeling returns once again, you blink at Kiri.

You shook your head, your voice quiet as if not to disturb the air around you two.

“We were just talking.”

“About?”

Her whisper courses against the flicker of change in the wind.

You stay quiet once again. Not because its awkward, or uncomfortable.

Sometimes, you felt like there was a shackle chained to your wrist.

The memory of your parents still haunts you.

It shaded you in its prison of night, torturing you to watch the sunlight, but never touch it.

You didn’t love anyone.

And yet, whenever someone offered you their hand, it felt like a trap.

A mockery of betrayal climbs your conscience. It's a hue of warm yellow, drenched in crimson and an agonizing black.

Jake told you that back on earth, he fought with other humans in a war that seemed like it would never end.

Sometimes people come out of bloody experiences constantly trying to wash their body because the smell of blood never leaves their nose.

Jake said it haunts you. Like a ghost. Some of the men he met would wake up screaming in the middle of the night. They wouldn’t laugh as much. Smile as much. What once was a comfort was now a cold, daunting piece of lost memories.

It's everywhere. And it hurts. What hurts most is that you can't protect yourself from it. Your arrows cannot pierce it. your hands cannot fight it away.

It’s real in some uncanny sense of a nauseating nostalgia. The type of memory that makes you thin your eyes because it's too bright.

An invisible devotion, it holds you above its disposal.

It keeps you away from falling in love. From holding someone's hand. From laughing at another’s jokes.

Sometimes you hate what you are. What you’re made out of. Because your soul constantly fights to build yourself out of ripped pieces of the past.

Because all you ever hear is whispers about where that happy little girl went. The girl who chased sun-dripped river banks with the symphony of children’s laughter.

This pain follows you.

When you wake from your nightmare’s it’ll sit in the corner. Watching you.

When someone flirts with you, touches your shoulder, brushes a strand of hair out of your face, it’ll be there.

What was the use of falling in love? As a child, you fantasized about having a love like your parents. So pure, so deep, so unexplainably perfect.

Only for them to die because of something you couldn't protect them from.

It’s not that you feared death. You feared the instantaneousness of it.

The unforeseen figment of a shape only for it to reveal itself to be a scythe.

They didn’t know it would happen, and neither did you.

And you weren’t fucking there. And now they are gone.

Never getting to watch you or spider grow to be full adults.

Leaving their children without so much as a goodbye.

Your only true goal was to die honorably on the battlefield. If you couldn’t find peace, maybe your ghost could.

Love was a weakness.

And when you fall in love, the shell of that pain will disguise itself under their soul.

You shrugged, your eyes averting away from Kiri. There's disconnected fatigue in your tone.

“He was nice.”

“Just nice?”

Kiri raises her eyebrow, scooting a bit closer to you.

You sighed, unsure of how to carry on this conversation. So you’re grateful when she does it for you.

“He’s a good guy. I've seen him help you teach the younger kids. They love him, always trying to climb on his back and asking him to carry them around.”

You nod.

“He’s a good teacher..”

you trail off, fidgeting with one of

Your bracelets. The one tuk made you, the one with mismatched bead sizes and colors. Juvenile plotted patterns in the small vibrant hues.

Kiri snickers.

“He might have to get in line with all your other eager suitors.”

you roll your eyes, poking her with your tail.

It wasn't unusual that Kiri teased you about getting attention.

Lo’ak’s friends sometimes whisper, quietly laughing and shoving each other as you walk by. It becomes hard not to notice as it becomes a frequent pattern.

Sometimes the guys in the hunting party Neteyam was often in, gently tapped each other on the shoulder, more subtly gesturing as you walked around camp or left for a ride, or even just helped with daily chores.

Their attempts usually deem themself futureless when Spider and Lo’ak glare at them, shoo them away the same way you would a pestering flock of birds.

Its a normality. Though spider was only a year older than you, he policed your love life just the same as any older sibling would. He didn't care that you were taller, stronger, bigger than him.

You scoffed.

“They’ll have to get through dumb and dumber first.”

Kiri huffed, annoyed with the two idiots in question.

“Don’t trust their judgment. They share one singular brain cell and it malfunctions half the time.”

The both of you laugh, trying to keep quiet. You bury your face in Kiris shoulder as the hammock shakes with your giggles.

You both sigh after a moment, still smiling.

“I can’t blame them. You’re perfect.”

She whispered.

There's a withering sense of somber behind her voice. It lacked bitterness, but it simmered on a ember, an ephemeral flicker of blue. The sounds of sloshed ash-blue sunsets and burnt-orange auras.

“I am not.”

You mumbled.

Kiri looked up at the top of the tented-hut. The small sparks of comforting vibrations from your bodies nuzzled under the woven blanket that allows only the softest of shivers to seize past the fabric.

“You remind me of my mother. The stories of her in her youth. The perfect woman. Strong, admired, sought out by many, envied by most..”

She trailed off.

If only kiri knew you didn’t feel like that at all.

“You’re my idea of perfection, Kiri.”

She scoffs and rolls her eyes.

Kiri was pretty. You had to remind her of that sometimes. The way her golden eyes shined under a sheet of jaded-glowing evergreen, that of a hued green in a canvassed jungle canopy. Her uneven, choppy, imperfectly, perfectly shaped bangs that fell over her forehead, gentle wisps of dark feathered thick strands.

Kiri’s hair was slightly lighter than most na’vi women. You loved that about her, the almost dark auburn shades of brown that hollowed in chalked streaks of a honeyed glow, proving herself her biological mother’s daughter.

But the one thing you adored most about Kiri?

Her love for Eywa.

You could only envy it.

After the death of your mother, your once undying devotion for the great mother started to rot. You felt like she had failed you. Taken away the most precious piece of your soul and damned her name for tearing you apart and leaving you to pick up the pieces.

You were angry those first few months, and you think differently now. But your breath still shallows at the thought.

Your smiles fade, and the air around you feels hollow for a moment.

“I wish i could see through your eyes, kiri.”

Kiri squeezed your hand, gently holding it to her chest.

“I know you’ve been hurt, Y/n. I know this pain is great..But the great mother has a plan for you. I believe it above all else.You are strong. Stronger than any spirit she has seen…You bring the wailing ash and fire of the demon ships to pity with just your arrowhead. We will heal together, y/n. I will teach you to find your faith again.”

You let your eyes flutter closed.

Your beautiful, sweet Kiri. This wasn’t romance. This was sisterly love in its purest form.

“..Do you ever think about him?”

The question stills you, you looked up at her and blink.

“Who?”

“My brother.”

The comforting warmth suddenly becomes a sweltering heave of heat. You swallow thickly, looking down.

“No.”

Kiri shakes her head.

“Please. Don’t lie to me, Y/n.”

There it is again, the hole in your heart.

“Yes. I think of him sometimes.”

Silence settles again.

“Is it wrong?”

You whisper.

Kiri shakes her head.

“No. its just that he doesn't deserve to live in your mind.”

Kiri loves her older brother. She truly does. But she was right beside you when he drifted away. Even ignoring him because she was angry with how he had treated you.

You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, cupping her hand in yours.

“I hate it.”

“Hate what?”

“How i feel like a piece of me is missing.”

Kiri’s eyes soften.

“Oh y/n…”

“No.”

Your voice breaks only slightly.

“No. because im better now.

I hated him. I hated his hands. I hated his voice. I hated his back. I hated his arms. I hated his neck. I hated his nose. I hated his ears. I hated when he promised to protect me, I hated when he left me crying in the rain. I hated that I waited for him. I hated that he promised all the stars in the sky were mine. I hated him.

I don’t hate him anymore. I hate the delusions of himself he put inside my head.

I hate how he weakened me.”

Kiri gently brushed some of your braids behind your shoulder

“Heartbreak doesn’t make you weak. If anything, it shows we had something inside of us so beautiful and rare it was worth mourning.”

You blinked back the fresh sting in your eyes. Taking a shaky breath.

“Oh my dear.”

Kiri whispered, hugging you close.

“Get some rest. You don’t need to think about anything right now, I promise.”

You nodded.

“Yeah. yeah okay.”

“You know what? In the morning let’s go bother norm for a bit. Would that make you feel better?”

You chuckled, hugging her back before you both settled in respective places in her hammock.

“It always does,”

Sleep soon found you, taking you in its arms and soothing the sweet darkness.

Across the tent, Neteyam laid awake, his hands clutching a blanket of his own, his body still tensed after what he had just heard.

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆

The next day.

You liked hunting with Jake.

It was high on your list of some of the chores you enjoyed contributing with your new found life in high camp living with the sullies.

Spending time with jake was a bonus. Jake and your family went way back. Your mother was one of the only navi that welcomed him upon his unexpected arrival. She was the one who lended him an older loincloth for him to wear that first night he was captured and the omaticaya took away his RDA uniform, and while he had his first ever meal with the clan at high camp.

Your mother also played a huge role in his journey to become a man of the omaticaya people.

Teaching him things like weaving, beading, and some of the language along with Neytiri.

Your mother was the one who constantly pestered neytiri about her growing feelings for the dreamwalker, helping her unbraid her hair for the nights he spent with jake, letting her cry, laugh, scream, like any good sister would.

Your mother and Neytiri mourned sylwanin together. And your mother grew closer with Mo’at and eytukan as mentors as well, despite neytiri and your mother not being sisters by blood, they loved each other just the same.

Jake and you had a good relationship. Jake often helped train the younger warriors, neteyam, you and lo’ak included.

You were always the fastest, the strongest out of the group, since you were 15.

Jake remembers when you were small. Carrying spider around and chasing lo’ak, bringing gifts to baby tuk, playing in the flower patches with neteyam and making him wear the bracelets and crowns you would braid out the stemmed petals.

Jake was there with you when your parents died, and he ws there when you moved into highcamp with the sully family.

He was there when you had nightmares and woke up in the middle of the night screaming,

You remember those nights, when the images of your mothers body would rip you from your sleep and you’d almost shake poor lo’ak out of the shared hammock with your sobbing and pleading.

You remember jake rushing to you, gently holding you by your shoulders, gently utting your head to his chest.

‘Sweetheart hey- hey i’m here. Mawey, Mawey..easy- easy…there we go. Deep breaths..’

The hoarse tiredness in his voice as oddly comforting.

You remember shaking your head, settling yur breathing as the tears began to flow.

“I-i’m sorry..it was just another bad dream.”

“Hey. never apologize for having a nightmare. You’re okay. You’re safe here. Okay? C’mon. Let's take a walk-that’ll calm you down.”

You trusted jake. You always have. Even today, in the present. So of course you liked hunting with him.

But most of all? You loved flying.

Your ikran was your spirit brother, sometimes even following your commands without tsaheylu.

The bond you had was strong, stronger than most ikran’s are capable of.

And the best part? He had a temper just like you did. The first time you almost met death was your iknimiya.

Your ikran threw you off the cliff, and then flew down to attack you further.

Jake and Neytiri had to hold Neteyam back from swooping into save you.

But you did it. You completed your rite and claimed Kailo as your own.

And you soared with him now, above the clouds, barely containing the smile etched on your face as the wind whips through your braids.

You loved heights. You loved how infinitely endless the sky seemed, burning with blasts of azure or an early morning blaze of fire-hued sunrises, or the cold warmth of the rain that refused to fall within the stars.

Revered by the scattered songs of synodic vespers and requiems of rainstorms. The sky cannot be caged. It cannot be concealed or hidden, it is your sanctuary, enraptured by effortless divinity and strength.

Your ikran let out a shrill and you pet its neck.

“Easy, Kailo..”

You hummed, looking over to jake, who sat atop his own companion, Bob. His dreads caught in the wind behind him as he waved for your attention.

“y/n!”

The wind carried his volume.

“I think we should take a break. In an hour or two the yerik herds will come to the river bank. Let’s law low in the woods.”

“Yes sir.”

You gently kicked Kailos' side, tilting the reins to descend after Jake into the forest, weaving around trees and foliage.

You laugh as a gust of wind trails you and Kailo, almost throwing Jake off his line of flight. Kailo was one of the fastest ikran your clan had ever seen. At least, that’s what the elders of the clan had told you.

Lo’ak was often jealous of spider because spider always got free rides on Kailo. You land before Jake, hopping off Kailo’s back and petting his neck.

“Mawey, tsmukan”

(calm, brother.)

Jake landed after you, the sound of ikran wings announcing his arrival. He climbed down right after you, patting the neck of his own Ikran, bob.

Jake spotted some Yovo fruit trees up ahead, cutting you both down a few as you both sat down on some rocks for snack break.

Jake leaned back, handing you a half of his own fruit as you muttered a small thank you.

His eyes wandered, as he glanced up at the trees, as if his gaze had become conscious of every shape and sound that surrounded him.

“I remember this place.”

Jake uttered in a soft hum in the air, his line of sight tracing around the figment of nostalgic fixation in the air.

You raised an eyebrow, munching on your fruit.

“Here? At this spot?”

Jake nods, nudging your shoulder with his knuckles. Pointing to the source of the sound of trickling water.

“The pond. Back when I was training for iknimaya. Way before your time.”

He smirked, as if it was something to brag about.

You rolled your eyes,

“Oh goody. Another one of grandpa's war stories.”

Jake chucked a Yovo fruit at your head but you caught it effortlessly, not even glancing.

“I’m not that old.” he huffs, clearly impressed at your heightened reflexes.

You chuckled, flipping your knife in your hand to withdraw it from its place in the sheath on your hip to cut open the fruit.

“Can’t move it like you used to, huh pops?”

“You know, I could have you banished.”

“Than who would save Lo’ak next time he wants to play tag with a thanator?”

Jake ruffled your braids in response to your surmise, clearly holding back a smile.

“Where would I be without ya, kid?”

You shrugged, handing him another half of the freshly cut fruit.

“Probably in one of those healing homes back on earth.”

“You mean nursing homes.”

“Same thing.”

Jake shook his head, letting out a sigh, knowing it was probably spider who taught you such a term.

He glanced around again, brushing in the scenery.

A silence commences between you both, the soft shrills and distant flap of wings within the deep jungle is the only sound that demands attention.

Jake speaks softly, breaking the silence with fragile, yet scrambled steps.

“She never fails to take my breath away.”

You look up at him, watching as he leaned back against the tree, letting his eyes flutter closed.

“Who?” you whisper.

“Pandora.”

He hums in response.

you often forgot Jake wasn’t from this planet. That his true home could only be seen as the sirius among scattered stars. What was it like? Seeing your home from below? The only thing worth touching is the implacable incarnation of your memories.

To hide what was left of yourself, a mere ghost that lingered in the wrinkled corners of your mind.

“What was it like..your home?”

You whispered.

Jake’s ears perk up, his eyes landing on you as he sat up slightly.

He stayed quiet for a moment. Staring up at the sky, his finger gently tracing one of the stripes on his leg as his gaze remained absent.

“It’s like living on a skeleton.”

When he finally speaks, it's quite literally the last thing you would have guessed he would say.

You raised your eyebrow.

“A skeleton..?”

He nodded.

“Earth is just a shell. Like the carcass of an animal. A corpse, almost.”

“I don’t understand.”

He nodded, scooting a bit closer to you, starting to speak again.

“Earth used to be beautiful. So many colors you couldn’t count them all.”

You nodded, trying to imagine the formless figment of a world in which you’ve never seen.

He closed his eyes, as if trying to remember.

“There was light, lots of it. The air, the sun, the stars…”

You blinked at him.

“What happened to it?”

Jake paused, something creeping behind the orbs of his irises. It's a sickening dark shade of a color he can’t remember, but its bitter aching bones are enough to weaken the courage of a once strong rhythmic heartbeat.

It’s a shadow of an echo. Gutted inside something hollow and carved out of shivering pulses running to a soured stillness.

“Humans will take until nothing is left. They will gawk at the lights of a stupid billboard instead of noticing the dying grass under their feet.”

What's a billboard?

You thought, but decided not to ask.

You stayed quiet, staring at the ground.

“That’s why they want this planet. Because they killed their old one.”

Jake nods, sighing almost regretfully.

“They think the na’vi is their greatest enemy, when really, the ones who have killed the most humans are…well, more humans.”

You can’t imagine it. Taking a life without regarding the soul you have soiled. Does the red on their hands not sting their eyes?

And that's when you realized it.

Death hummed shallowly in its own pulsating methods. But even the devil has an advocate.

You killed. You have killed many. And it doesn’t seem to register until that very moment. You never thought to count the number of raids you had accompanied your clan on, Jake appointed you as his main archer when you were only 15.

When rage and grief overshadowed the shallowness of sunlight all you wanted to do was avenge.

An untamed anger was born in you when your parents died. And you swore every arrow you ever shot was in their names.

Zensira.

Kai’lik.

Zensira.

Kai’lik.

How would they look at you now?

Their little girl. The little girl they loved. Their beautiful, beautiful precious girl who loved to hear her mother sing. Their little girl who loved to carry your big brother spider around, (because your big brother wasn’t so big compared to you.)

Who loved to visit the pond and play with lo’ak. Who liked to make bracelets with kiri and get thrown into the lake by your dad, tossing around your small body when you were 7 as you squealed through the freshwater air.

A killer.

“Y/n? Y/n. Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”

Jake placed a hand on your shoulder, but his touch felt cold.

Jake’s voice sounded like your head was under water. Blurred, distant sounds.

Your breath becomes shallow, but you weren’t hyperventilating. You were just…still.

What if you had failed them? What if they were watching you right now?

Knowing you had killed. Not hunted.

Hunting was for survival. To feed your family, your friends, your clan.

This was killing. This wasn’t a need. It was a want. A want for vengeance.

Were you even a na’vi at all? Killing without respect for life even if they were a human.

Your mother forgave. Your father forgot.

And what were you? A disgrace of everything they stood for.

Your voice came out like a whisper. Every thought and feeling swirling around in your head. Despite your silent panic, the air felt eerily calm, and almost mocking ambience.

“Did I disappoint them?”

Jake stilled for a moment, rubbing your back.

“Who?”

“All of them.”

“All of them?”

You swallowed thickly.

“Y/n..you know you can talk to me, right?”

You nodded, staying quiet for a moment as you stared down at your shaking hands.

“Am I a bad person?”

Jake’s eyes widen a bit for a moment, his hand slowly withdrawals from its place on your shoulder.

“Why would you think that?”

“Because sometimes I like the way pain feels.”

Something clicked for Jake at that moment.

Where you saw your hand bloodied by a manic anger and bones with regretful splintered scars, Jake saw a shadow. A shadow of a distressed consciousness that he once acquainted himself with.

Jake was no stranger to products of war. Even when those products were souls losing their vibrancy. The colors fading into hardened flesh.

Jake had seen war turn people into hollow shells. Unheard prayer scattered and dissipated under a blood-stained sky.

Jake finally spoke, but his words, slow and somber, treaded a steeper meaning.

“You aren’t a bad person, Y/n. You’ve been hurt. Hurt by people even eywa cannot forgive.”

You shook your head, the threat canvassed along perpetual doubts.

“I don’t know why I’m like this.”

You admitted.

Jake places his hand back on your shoulder again.

“Sometimes people like us, soldiers, we start to like the pain because we think it’s the only thing we'll ever deserve. But we don’t like it at all. Not really.”

You can almost see it. The stars are falling again. The tapestry thread being pulled mercilessly. The colors are falling. The sun is turning cold.

You had to catch them. You had to chase the colors or else they would abandon you again.

Your reflection seems distorted. Liquid glass in the taunting shape of a little girl.

A little girl who knew no bloodshed. No war. No pain. No anger.

You would never be that little girl again. And its all your fault. You wanted to kill someone after your parents died. You wanted to kill every single human that worked for the RDA or even set foot on their base.

It’s sick.

It’s wrong.

It’s vile.

But its you. This wreckage of scars and bruises, tattered tapestries and broken bird songs, its all you.

That all too familiar sting hit the back of your throat, you could feel your gaze numbing.

“I’m beyond fixing.”

You whispered.

“No one is beyond fixing.”

He promised.

“Can you take some deep breaths with me? Just a few, Y/n.”

You followed his instructions, and the red started to simmer away. The air felt forgiving once again, and your throat started to feel normal once again.

You spoke again finally, after a few moments of silence.

“Maybe I should have my na’vi card revoked.”

You chuckled dryly.

Jake patted your back. “You and me both, kiddo.”

“What you feel is normal.”

He added.

“That anger. That vengeance.”

You glanced up at him. “Na’vi are supposed to solve conflict peacefully first. War is just a last resort.”

Jake scoffed.

“I think we’ve reached the last resort awhile ago, Sweetheart.”

You went to speak, but were quickly cut off.

“y/n you are not some kind of psychopath. You don’t kill for no reason. You kill to protect. You fight because something dear to you is threatened, that's what makes a warrior true to their heart, their clan.”

His words eased your anxiety a bit. But the shadow behind the sun still creeped disguised under the warmth of forgiveness.

“I’m not a bad person. I don’t know why I want them to feel pain.”

You whispered.

Sometimes you wondered if pretending to be made out of stone means you’d still break like glass.

War was the type of calm that tranquilized. Drugged you into delusions of comfort.

Somewhere inside you was that little girl. She hates you. She hates you with all her heart.

Somewhere inside you is that 15 year old that’s waiting for neteyam in the rain you swear is just falling stars. She hates you. She hates you with all her heart.

Somewhere inside you is your mothers daughter. Wondering who did this to you.

You didn’t like violence But you were prone to it.

You didn’t like war. But you're afraid of the day it no longer has a use for you.

War ruined you. Because war made you angry. And anger tortured you.

You weren’t deserving of sunlight, maybe that's why you familiarize yourself with the bleakness of dusk.

Maybe that’s why you loved Neteyam.

Maybe that’s why you hated yourself.

Maybe that’s why you’ve trained yourself with blood stains and tear tracks.

Your mother was forgiving. She adopted a human child after watching her family die, and hometree fall.

She devoted herself to eywa, a woman true to the kindness of her heart and the flame of forgiveness.

She had seen fire and escaped it.

You had seen fire and burned with it.

The shackles on your wrist. The burning in your throat.

You were a child forced into a warrior.

And maybe it was time to heal, but why didn’t it allow you?

This shadow oppressed you. And maybe this prolonged insanity was a good sanctuary to be understood, not severed. Your bones were made of seared iron, the fissure of a once porcelain excellence.

War had ruined you. And ruined things didn’t deserve to be loved.

Jake pulled you close to him, wrapping an arm around you, you leaned your head on his shoulder.

“You’re one of the fucking strongest people i know. You know that?”

He whispered, and the simplicity of his touch settled an almost agonizing comfort.

“Can you fix me?”

You whisper.

Jake shook his head.

“Y/n. You are not something to be fixed. You need to be healed. And I know you can do it. And we’ll be right beside you the whole damn time.”

You let yourself close your eyes.

“You're a soldier, kid. Just like me. A fighter. It’s all we think we know, all we think we’ll ever deserve. We swear to live and die on that battlefield.”

You nod.

“Sometimes it feels like the battlefield is the closest to home.”

Jake speaks once more,

“Until you find someone who feels a little closer.”

By the way he smiled softly, you knew he was talking about Neytiri.

You leaned further into his shoulder, and he patted your back.

“You know, back on earth, we have a special way of dealing with cases like these. Soidlers who need trauma relief.”

You blinked at him, immediately intrigued.

“You do? How?”

“Therapy.”

You tried the strange human word out on your tongue.

“Ther…ah…pey-

There-a-pay-”

“Therapy.”

Jake corrected gently.

“What’s that?” You asked, as Jake stood up, putting his knife back in his sheath.

“Its where you go to someone who can help you talk things out. Iv’e seen a few back in my days. Military psychologists are what we call em’.”

You raised your eyebrow.

From spending time with max, norm, and spider, you knew that humans had a different way of dealing with their feelings than na’vi did. But this new information peaked your interest.

“How can i find one?”

Jake paused.

That’s a damn good question.

He thought to himself.

He hummed for a moment, petting bobs neck and you put your bow back in its place on your saddle.

“How about this, every few days, you and I can meet.”

Jake proposed.

You raised your eyebrows.

“Where?”

He shrugged. “Anywhere you want. We can go to one of the mountains, or the stream, or the caves, whatever. It can be private. And we can talk like you would to a therapist.”

You considered it for a moment, but after all, maybe this would fix you.

You shook on it and agreed.

“Deal.”

Jake ruffled your braids and smiled.

“Attagirl. Lets get moving. Those yerik are probably at the lake by now. I’ll race you.”

You mounted Kailo, rolling your eyes.

“I don’t abuse the elderly.”

“Oh fuck off i’m not that old.”

You faked a wince as jake mounted Bob.

“Oo, careful grandpa. You shouldn't be moving too much like that.”

Jake flipped you off.

“Kiss the darkest side of my blue as-”

Before he could finish, You and Kailo took to the skies.

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆

Back at high camp..

Neteyam’s pov:

Lo’ak groaned as he laid in his hammock.

Today felt like small pieces had been torn out of it. The absence of my father, my mother, Kiri and Y/n all contributed to this unease.

It fascinating how easily little pieces of things leave something so unstructured when certain routines in your life undergoes a sudden cessation. Only fragments of familiarity keep me company today.

Oh, yeah. That and Lo’ak’s bitching.

I’m never one to complain. Not really. But Lo’ak…He was my personal acception.

I’ve been stuck with him since this morning. My father took Y/n out to hunt early before I awoke, and my mother and Kiri have gone to assist my grandmother in the Tsahik tent. Lo’ak lost his flight privileges after that little stunt he pulled during the raid, and I don’t feel like going anywhere alone. I offered to join my father last night on his hunt this morning, but my father insisted he and Y/n go hunting alone.

I offered to help my grandmother, but Kiri beat me to it. My mother asked me to stay home and start preparing for tonights meal. So here i was hunched over chopping up root vegetables while I was stuck in this void we called home. I felt detached today. Like the world just floated around me while I remained rooted like a weathering tree.

My accidental overhearing over my sister and Y/n talking last night is still fresh on my mind.

“Dude..I think you’re done with that one.”

Lo’ak’s voice finally reaches my ears.

I lift my head, and he points down to where i had clearly been so distracted, i had diced the poor vegetable into tiny pieces, too small to be cooked over a fire. They would shrivel away in the smoke.

I threw them to the side, trying to refocus.

“What is up with you today?” Lo’ak interrogates instead of asking. I keep my eyes down, shrugging.

“Nothing. Why?”

He shrugs, mocking my movements, leaning back in his hammock, leaving his leg to dangle, his toes brushing the ground.

“Dunno. You just seem kinda…off?”

I sigh, scraping the new batch of chopped vegetables off the carved board i was cutting them on and into the wooden bowl with my knife.

“Just a bit tired. I didn’t get much sleep last night”

Technically, that wasn’t a lie. Which seems in my favor, if you remember from earlier, I’m a shit liar.

Memory was a funny thing. It claws at your mind until you grant it consciousness, and then it romances itself with such scandalous notions. Unforgiving us for ever dreaming of forgetting.

It wants to awake something in us that we can only pray stays dead.

I knew I shouldn't have been listening to Y/n’s words. I knew I should have been asleep.

But know that it’s found me, it captures me.

I want to exist in her mind not only as a figment, because there’s one particular part that is beating the shit out of me.

‘I don’t hate him anymore. I hate the delusions of himself he put inside my head.’

I used to think she only hated me. Hated me for my ignorance, my hesitance, my fear.

I hated it too.

But no. She hated me because she thought i lied to her, gave her something so precious, so inexplicably binding only to shatter it infront of her eyes.

My love for her was never a lie. It was never a joke, or a ruse, or a figment in this phantom of longing that looms over me.

I couldn’t allow this to go on any longer. That I knew for sure.

Unfortunately, getting to Y/n was a wall i couldn’t seem to climb.

When she wasn’t out hunting or strategizing air strikes with my father, she was with spider, and Spider didn’t let me go within 5 feet of Y/n.

I had to admire him for it, despite him becoming a vicissitude in the middle of my current mission, I had to give him some slack as a fellow oldest sibling.

If anyone had hurt kiri, or tuk (when she came of age to engage in such ‘romantic affairs’) , if anyone hurt them the way I hurt y/n, I’d probably have to put my mother’s years of archery lessons to use. Granted, My father would probably skin the poor bastard and wear him as a coat before I even got a chance.

I can’t blame him for protecting Y/n.

I try to think further as i continue chopping, my tail flicking behind me.

I decide Kiri is my best option. I’ll find her when she returns from Tsahik’s tent. Eywa please, just give me one chance. I swear i’ll-

“Where’s Tuk?”

Lo’ak suddenly pipes up, he probably got bored with his own laziness.

I glance up at him as i scarped off my knife.

“Kyuna picked her up this morning to take her to play with popiti for the day.”

Lo’ak raised an eyebrow.

“Kyuna?”

I nodded, not looking up.

“Your new mate?”

I don’t like the way he said ‘new mate’. As if i had one in the first place.

I shake my head, slightly annoyed.

“She’s not my mate. I’m not interested in kyuna.”

“Tuk said-”

“Tuk doesnt know what shes talking about.”

Lo’ak shrugs, leaning back to sit up a bit, looking at me with skeptical eyes.

“What’s really going on with you?”

“I don’t know what you speak of.”

He scoffs. “I’m not stupid, Neteyam. You’re acting off. You have all morning, all day, and even now. Whats the deal?”

I place my knife down, glaring at my brother.

“I don’t owe you an explanation. Okay?”

The tent falls silent, and I continue on with my chores, I hear Lo’ak mutter a small apology under his breath. I cave.

“No, I’m just tired..I shouldn’t have snapped like that.”

Lo’ak nods, fidgeting with his songchord.

“If you don’t want kyuna…You aren’t thinking about Y/n. right?”

Lo’ak was more than displeased when I started courting y/n. And he didn’t try to hide it either.

Lo’ak loves y/n. Not romantically. But he loves her.

It’s the kind of closeness that isn’t sex or intimately deep.

Lo’ak always felt like the distant star in our family. The one who strays from the perfect rotation of each patterned path.

His hands were stained with hunger. Imperfect painted sun blood stained skies.

Lo’ak’s trust in us was ghostly and transluscent. He didn’t always feel like he fit the shape carved for him.

Lo’ak’s imperfect edges, sharpened and rough, scarred and edged to a point.

He found his place between Spider and Y/n. His bestest friends. Two people he would die for.

Found his own sky.

Dark blue and purple hues and the warmth of pale moonlight, he found his place.

When Lo’ak found something that accepted him, he protected it with his life.

And I can’t blame him. Being in love your brother's best friend is awkward.

Lo’ak was afraid of me stealing that away from him.

Of me invading his circle.

The reality of a sacrifice is an odd, unevenly constructed abstraction.

People don’t think I was born from my mother, rather I was carved from stone and polished to a pristine hue of gold.

My parents expected me to build myself wings and fly further than anyone had ever tried.

When the line wasn’t perfectly straight, it was erased and made a new slate. Blank. Perfect. Spotless.

And sometimes, I’m not neteyam to my parents.

I’m my mother, just a younger version.

I am my father, worn thin from a war and plagued by my past promises.

I’m just a shell of something that was no more. Something to refill with their own pieces of the past.

My skin and soul is only stitched out of parts of them. But only the unscathed parts.

Anything that dared to be less than that was indescent. Unworthy of the light.

My mother’s anger, my fathers guilt, was a far too discolored shade to be seen in the sky.

My existence was like a kaleidoscope of muted colors. A prism turned prison.

I think I’ve forgotten how to slouch. How to sit with an unwelcome posture. How to fidget and how to fantasize.

My entire life is full of sacrifices.

Sacrificing y/n for my future.

Sacrificing my brothers best friend. My future mate.

But I’ll be damned if I loose her again.

So, I lie for the second time.

“No. I wasn’t thinking about y/n, idiot.”

Lo’ak nods,

Leaning back, closing his eyes. I mentally high five eywa because he doesn’t interrogate me further.

“You know, instead of taking a nap, you could be helping me.”

I huff, and fight the urge to roll my eyes, and he sighs dramatically.

“Neteyam, I’m too pretty for slave labor.”

I throw a vegetable at his head and he hisses in pain.

“Fuck you. That’s sibling abuse.”

He whines.

“I’m about to abuse my responsibilities with this knife if you don’t get up off your lazy ass and do something useful with your existence.”

I point my knife at him and he groans, standing up and leaving the hammock.

“Easy there, big bro. Spider will be here soon.”

I raise my brow, an uneasy feeling settling in my chest.

“Spider? Here?”

He nods.

“Yeah. We have chores to do too, ya know.”

I shake my head, slicing the new vegetable horizontally, watching the colored juices trickle down the roots and stain the cutting board.

“No. Not here. You know how mother feels about spider.”

Spider was my mother’s foil. An old term our father taught us.

My mother owed Zensira her life. And she swore to her a long time ago, that if anything happened to her or ka’lik, she would step up to be a mother to y/n, the same went for my father.

But Zensira didn’t have one child. She had two. Spider was not biologically her child, but he was treated like her son all the same. Living in Y/n’s family’s tent, being cared for, the same way any mother would nurture a child.

My mother made promises for y/n. But she never made any for spider.

I don’t think she ever will.

To her, she was a demon. And alien. The type of animal with no hope of survival, but refuses to die. Remains unyielding even under the unwelcoming atmosphere of pandora.

He was an actor. A pathetic excuse of a performance. A pale child painted blue.

My mother loves y/n the same way she loves tuk and Kiri. Would go the same lengths for her as she would for any of her children, and the same thing applies to my father.

Spider was allowed everywhere in high camp except our family’s hut.

My grandmothers hut was an exception, because it was a communal place in our clan.

But my mother refused to have any sky demon’s presence scathe the memories of her home. Her only safe place. Where she raised her children and started her new life.

That’s probably why Lo’ak spent so much time at Y/n’s hut when he was little. It was one of the only places he could be comfortably with both Y/n and Spider at the same time.

“You know how mom feels about spider in the hut.”

Lo’ak’s expression is blanked with disinhibited concern and a genuine lack of guilt.

“Mom isn’t here. She’ll be gone all day. Plus, we’re making y/n some new arrows. She’s on that group hunt tonight.”

I crossed my arms.

“And who allowed you to mess with her supplies?”

Lo’ak scoffed. Placing his hands on his hips with a cocky grin.

“The mighty archer herself. I’ve been appointed by Y/n and tasked with a very important job. Who am I to decline her?”

“Just make sure he isn’t here for long. She can smell him if he’s been in here. You know mom’s senses.”

Lo’ak waves me off, standing to his feet, grabbing the small baskets of purple and red feathers y/n used for the fletching of her arrows, and starts to tie them to the shaft of the arrow.

Spider joined him not long after, the two if them sat in the middle of the tent, crafting arrows and talking.

Spider glanced at me after finishing another arrow.

“So where is everyone today?”

“Father took Y/n hunting. My mother and Kiri are assisting grandmother- and Tuk is with popiti.”

Spider raised an eyebrow at me, his mask fogging up momentarily with each breath.

“Who? Popiti?”

Lo’ak rolled his eyes.

“Kyuna’s little sister.”

Spider nodded in realization, then his expression soured.

Lo’ak snorted. “Neteyam’s new mate.”

“For the 5th time, she’s not my mate.”

Spider chuckles along with him and I swear i’m losing neurons from just breathing the same air as Lo’ak and Spider.

Or really, just Lo’ak.

I stood to my feet as i heard footsteps outside. Tuk must’ve finished up her activities with Popiti for the day.

Usually, It was An’kora. Popiti’s mother, who walked Tuk home in the afternoons.

But when I opened the flap. I’m faced with a face that isn’t my little sister, her braids slightly disheveled from a day of wild fantasies and games of tag.

A na’vi girl, with mid length braids and a beaded top smiles at me so sweetly it’s sickening.

You know those kinds of people that you've known since your childhood, and you always knew in one way or another, they would grow up to be assholes?

Yeah. That's Kyuna.

Kyuna was the girl that never let Spider or Kiri, Or Lo’ak play any of her games because of their ‘sky people germs'.

Kyuna was the girl that told everyone not to sit next to Y/n in the communal lessons we attend as children, telling everyone that she lived with a human boy who gave her diseases.

She does this thing where she laughs into her hand, and leans on the person closest to her, expecting them to allow her access nto their personal space as if the world had her name written on it.

She bows slightly, her movements unnecessarily exaggerated as she raises her two fingers to her forehead and dips them down.

“Oel ngati kameie, Neteyam.”

I return the gesture, nodding at her.

“Kyuna. It’s good to see you.”

No it’s not.

She bats her eyes at me, and my annoyance only simmers away when a familiar smaller na’vi body slams herself into my leg, pressing her head into my hip.

I chuckle softly, ruffling Tuk’s braids.

“Hey Tuk-Tuk. Did you have a fun time?”

I pat her shoulder as she opens her mouth to speak, her big eyes sparkling before she’s cut off by a shriek-like voice.

“Oh she had tons of fun! Her and Popiti just ran around for hours playing their silly little games.”

When you're an older sibling, you start to catch onto things. You start to memorize your younger siblings' habits, mannerisms, movements, even the slightest twitch of their tail.

Tuk was a creature of habit. And I could tell by the way she gently tugged on my loincloth, and the way she tucked herself behind my arm, she was uncomfortable.

I reach my hand out, and she takes it within a split second, gently borrowing herself in the space behind me.

I lean down a bit, keeping my hand in it’s place on her shoulder.

“Are you hungry? Why don’t you go on inside, yes? Spider and Lo’ak are already sitting. I’m sure Lo’ak would love to make you some seed-leaf wraps.”

Her tail flicks at the mention of her favorite snack, and she finally cracks a smile, before jogging inside.

“She’s adorable. Isn’t she??”

Kyuna sighs in an almost dreamily manner, I stand up straight again to face her.

“My mother was informed An’kora was taking Tuk home today. Did something come up?”

She waves me off, ridding my concern from the air.

“Mother got tied up on foraging duty. I figured I'd watch the girls and walk Tuk home.”

I nod, slowly. “Ah. Well, thank you for taking her home.”

She smiles, tilting her head like a viperwolf begging for scraps.

“Oh. No need to thank me. She’s precious, that little Tuktirey.”

I never liked the way she talked about my sister. Her tone was almost mocking, as if she was describing a doll or some kind of inanimate object.

“Well. I should get going. I don’t trust lo’ak alone with the firepit and Tuk is probably hungry-”

“My father wanted me to invite you on his next hunt. Are you free midday tomorrow?”

I wasn’t surprised when she offered. It’s all she talked about the last 4 times I had saw her.

The one time I did agree, all the man would talk about was what kinds of flowers Kyuna liked, and how no one had courted her yet.

My eywa, I wonder why.

There’s an unsteady rhythm that inhabits itself in my chest. The kind that sets off warning signals in your brain.

I scratch the back of my head awkwardly, my knuckle brushing my tswin.

“It’s a kind offer, really. But I’m already expected to join the night hunt tonight. The one led by y/n and my father.”

She stared at me with some notion of unrequited enamour, and I almost feel bad for her.

“I’m sorry. Maybe another time?”

She nods, her tail swishing behind her.”

“Of course. I’d expect nothing less from the future olo’eyktan of our clan.”

The emphasis on my title seems almost slurred, and my body instinctively takes a step back the moment she takes a step forward.

“Yes, well, my training has only been increasing.”

“Such a strong warrior. A man of the people. I’m surprised you don’t have the women of our clan falling at your feet. Oh, wait You do!”

Why was she yelling? I’m literally two feet in front of her.

I shifted uncomfortably on my feet.

“I should get back inside, kyuna.”

“One more thing, Neteyam?”

I don’t turn my body fully towards her, but my eyes focus on her figure nonetheless.

“There’s been rumors.”

Something twists in my stomach the moment she says that. Like a static running blank. Or soundwaves straightening into lines.

“What?”

“People talk. And there’s been word that the future olo’eyktan of our people will never find his tsahik.”

I groan, dragging my palm down my face.

“Don’t bother me with such matters, Kyuna. All this talk of the future that is too far away to be treading towards. My father is too stubborn to give up his place that fast. He will remain olo’eyktan for a long time before I take his place.”

She shrugs, crossing her arms.

“All i’m saying is..”

She takes another step, her chest nearly touching mine.

“You are wanted for more than you think. The women of this clan practically swoon over the thought of being by your side, and you haven’t even blinked at them.”

I click my tongue, averting my eyes.

“My future mate is none of your business. Nor is it the clans. Not now, at least.”

She goes to speak; but before she can utter her next words, Lo’ak came stumbling out of the tent with a less than pleased expression on his face.

“Bro.”

He tugs on my arm, gagging exaggeratingly.

“Tuk threw up- it’s a mess in there. Whatever Kyuna fed her is NOT sitting well.”

I blink at my brother, but it quickly registers that something wasn’t right.

“Are you sure? She seemed fine when she came home-“

“Dude. I know barf when I see it.

She must have ate something bad at Popiti’s.”

Kyuna was stunned, crossing her arms in an offended manner.

“I beg your pardon? Tuk didn’t eat anything at my place today.”

Lo’ak scoffed.

“Uh huh. Sure. You’re probably just trying to poison my sister. Aren’t you? Our father will be hearing about this!”

My main concern at the moment is Tuk.

“Excuse me-“

I muttered to Kyuna as an excuse for a goodbye, shoving past Lo’ak to my family’s tent, expecting to see a poor Tuktirey doubled over, regurgitating what was either late breakfast or early lunch, when instead all that comes into view is Tuk sitting cross-legged next to spider, as he starts methodically picking out some of the different seeds from the assorted bowls we used to prepare our meals. As he sat making leaf wraps for a suspiciously fine looking Tuk.

I crouched down next to her, feeling her forehead and keeping a hand gently on her back.

“Are you okay, Tuk?”

She nodded, blinking up at me.

My eyes flicker up when Lo’ak enters the tent, whistling as if nothing just happened.

“Lo’ak, Tuk seems fine..”

I trail off.

He winks at me.

“Your welcome. Kyuna left us in peace.”

Pain in the ass or not, I have to admit, Lo’ak was smarter than we give him credit for.

when I finally finished peeling the vegetables, I left them in their basket and enjoyed a break with Tuk, Lo’ak, and Spider.

We all sat eating Spider’s very poor excuse of a seed-leaf wrap. But they worked, for some odd reason no one could place.

Spider didn’t eat, because of his mask, so i guess he settled for conversation.

“So, Tuk. How was your playdate?”

Tuk nods eagerly, talking through a mouth full of seed-wrap.

I reach for the extra cloth in my loincloth pocket, letting her wipe her mouth before speaking normally again.

“It was fun. But I don't think I like Kyuna anymore.”

Lo’ak scoffed, high fiving tuk.

“Put er’ there sis. Neither do I. She’s a bitch.”

“Lo’ak. Language.” I scold, smacking his head lightly.

He rolls his eyes.

“Fine. Shes a B-I-T-C-H. Better?” Spider laughs. Leaning back.

Lo’ak shoves him.

“Oh and what’s so funny? Mr, ‘i’m afraid of women’?”

Spider shakes his head, raising his pointer finger to poke lo’aks chest.

“Correction. I’m afraid of your mother and Y/n.”

“Everyones afraid of Y/n.”

I ignore Lo’ak and Spider’s bickering, turning my attention to Tuk.

“Was Kyuna bothering you?”

She shook her head, taking another bite. Speaking through a mouth full of food

“Nuh-uh. But she kept asking me if you were home, and if you had received any courting gifts yet, or if you wanted to go hunting with her.”

I bit my tongue tounge, smoothing down some of tuk’s stray braids.

“How about this, Next time, I’ll walk you home from Popiti’s.”

She nodded and took another bite of her food.

“I don’t think she should be your mate anymore”

Tuk shakes her head disapprovingly, crossing her arms over her chest.

Spider raises an eyebrow.

“Kyuna and you are a mated pair? Since when?”

Lo’ak snickers and I groan.

“For the last time, she is not my mate.”

Tuk blinks at me before speaking again.

“Can you mate with y/n instead? She’s nicer.”

I shove another leaf wrap into her hands.

“How about we play the quiet game for a bit?”

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆

Hello my lovely virago readers! So because tumblr didn’t like my original 28k words version of this chapter, iv’e split this into 3 parts. This is part 1 of chapter 3. Part 2 and 3 will be posted straight after.

Thank you for your patience!

Please don’t forget to comment your favorite quote, dynamic, or moment!

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