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angelteyam · 1 year

Text

Water Girl (n.s.)

(gif not mine)

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x Metkayina!Reader

Word Count: 10,612

Summary: You were...“different”. You had always been different. Yet something shifts when the Sully family arrives, literally crash landing into your village. No one had ever noticed you, and yet, for whatever reason, the eldest Sully boy suddenly can’t seem to get you out of his mind.

Warnings: major character deaded, floof, angst, moar floof, some kissy and touchy (nothin weird)

A/N: this is….a beast. also do not judge me for briefly mentioning neteyam’s unalivement, I literally do not have it in me to actually write it out.

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“Hush, payíva. Listen to the ocean.”

Payíva. Drop of water.

The first of many names your mother gave you. Granted, she had many names of her own that you’d bestowed upon her too when you learned to speak: mama, sa’nu, mom, mommy. It seemed only natural for her to give you a few of your own, but a couple stuck out as your favorites.

Payíva, for when you were young, and inconsolable from having skipped a sleep, and refusing to nurse due to the pain of your budding canines piercing through gum.

Stubborn. As always.

Kxali was overtired too, and having failed every attempt she knew to mother you, and Ronal’s treatments falling on deaf ears, your mother wrapped you tightly against her bosom using one of your father’s shawls, and walked with you along the shoreline.

Eywa, you were your father’s child.

Elpawe was with Tonowari on a warrior’s hunt past the reef. The trip was supposed to last a week, but by day three, you had dissolved from your father’s absence. And though neither you nor your mother knew this, Elpawe felt the distance between you was as wide as the chasm of Eywa’s great ocean.

You were too young to understand that your father, Tonowari’s right hand, would always come back. He had to come back - not just for his mate, but for you. From the day you were born you had him wrapped around your tiny fingers, and as much as your mother’s presence could comfort you, his aura was your salve.

So Kxali did what she could as a final plea, and used a leather belt to secure a warm, deep blue shawl around her hips, before tying it around her shoulders and tucking you into the fabric. Even she could scent your father in the fabric’s weave, and as she tucked you in against her chest, your knees and arms against her as if still in the womb, your howling cries that had lasted for days on end slowed to a dull whimper.

This whimper continued still, as Kxali scaled a small boulder at the water’s edge to rest with you, her toes dipping into the waves that swirled and tangled around the rock as they made their way to the sandy beach nearby. She settled back against the rock, one hand beneath you for support, and the other came to rest against your head in soothing, graceful strokes.

Another dull whimper from your small, plump lips.

“Hush, payíva. Listen to the ocean.”

Kxali let herself breathe as if she was beneath the water. Belly full of air, and heart beating in a rhythm that matched the waves lapping against the shore. A large wave crashed against the rock beneath you, and you whimpered again.

“Hush, my droplet. The waves are talking to you. The water is with you, just like mama.”

Another wave lapped against the rock, and as if it had heard your mother, it rolled against the shore in a smooth, slow motion, whisking away and leaving a smattering of beautiful shells behind.

Hush, small one.

The ocean seemed to speak, and as another wave came passing by, a few droplets of salty water landed against your forehead and trickled down to rest on the perfectly round tip of your nose.

And just like that, the wrinkles in your forehead disappeared, the tension melted from your eyelids, and your lips parted. A barely audible sigh escaped you, and your mother smiled above you as you began to softly snore.

Your father’s child, indeed.

As you grew older, the names your mother used for you did too. Most of the time you and your father shared the same one.

Skxawng.

Although reserved for you when you were behaving particularly like him - meaning, particularly stubborn - for your father, this meant he had missed something important.

Sometimes he had missed your orbits for hunting trips. This you could understand, for when Tonowari called, your father answered. He had to answer. Your mother wasn’t always so understanding, but these happenings could be forgiven for duty.

Most of the time however, and as most Na’vi males do, your father would blow right past something even though it was staring him right between the eyes. He couldn’t see a tulkun even if it smacked him across the face with a fin some days.

A forgotten chore, or a broken spear. Or, as was usually the case, returning from a tussle with another group of males, laughing and bantering as though it had never happened, and completely covered in scrapes and bruises.

Kxali would patch him up, of course, but if there was one thing your little mind knew, it was that you did not like to see your father hurt. Even the smallest scrape on his cheek would send you into a fit, and you’d worm your way into your mother’s grasp, dipping your hands into the healing sap so you could help your sempu feel better.

Through eyes full of tears, you’d rub your tiny fingers on the offending mark on your father’s skin - not fully grasping that rubbing the sap in harder would not in fact make the injury disappear. Elpawe would smile down at you, even through gritted teeth, and once done, you’d pull away to assess your work.

“Ma sempu all better?” You’d squeak, and he’d smile.

“All better, little one.” He’d sigh, and he’d pull you in tightly to his chest, grinning at your mother behind you.

And every time, Kxali would lightly smack him on the head.

“You skxawng. You know how she gets.”

And as you grew older still, your mother and father took to calling you the same thing.

Paysmung. Water carrier.

You may have been Metkayina, but something about your natural abilities in the water and with the ocean’s many creatures had even Ronal scratching her head. Your mother barely had to teach you a basic breath hold before you were swimming off like a fish, running your hands along an ilu’s belly as you swam beneath her.

You were the one who gave Tsireya her first breathing lessons. You were the one who discovered which shells looked the prettiest in bracelets, and which looked the best against the pitch black of hair. You were the one who started testing your breathing ability by fetching shells from the ocean floor.

Nothing entirely marvelous, true enough, but when you emerged from the ocean with piles of massive shells in your arms that no one had seen before, the waves clinging to your ankles as if they didn’t want to say goodbye, and no ilu in sight for that matter, you had the entire clan stumped.

Gradually, though, as you approached your rite with no desire to take after your father’s path of warrior or your mother’s path as healer, and as you continued to spend your days beneath the ocean’s blanket of safety with no interest in a mate, the clan and all her people started to forget about you.

Not Mama and Papa, of course. But neither of them particularly wanted you to follow in their footsteps. You were different. Softer, and quieter as you had grown with age. Sometimes you could fade into the water as if you were made of the ocean itself. And when you emerged, leaving behind small tokens for your parents that now covered every surface of your marui from floor to ceiling, hung across nets and dangling from ropes that made them twinkle like stars, well…neither of your parents was intent on discouraging you.

Elpawe held sway, too. Some sort of power in convincing Tonowari to let you be. You did not have the warrior’s spirit, or the spirit of a healer like your mother. And one thing your father was very certain of was that he did not want his little payíva to be forced into choosing a fate you would not readily choose on your own.

He even managed to convince Tonowari that you weren’t entirely useless. He did teach you how to fight, so you could defend yourself if you ever truly needed to. And your mother taught you to heal basic scrapes and mend small cuts, and to tend to the elderly and the sick. Where Ronal went, your mother followed, and you followed behind when you were needed. And when Tonowari watched you emerge from the water with a net full of fish you’d guided in as if you were their commander - well, that was a done deal.

And thus, you were left alone.

Left alone as your mother and father grew in their duties. Left alone with no siblings to keep you company, and with the village’s children skeptical of you from the beginning, you had no friends besides those who lived beneath the ocean. Left alone to bond with your own spirit sibling, your very own tulkun, who would take you swimming father and deeper into the blue water than you’d ever gone before.

Left alone with no mate, and no prospects who interested you, either.

Invisible.

That is, until the Sully family arrived.

You were on the outskirts of the village, hopping along a ring of rocks that stuck out from the ocean during low tide, when a group of five ikran flew overhead, circling a sandbar at the village’s edge. They landed in a flurry of sand, hands raised and unarmed.

And far too blue.

The clan emerged in droves from their marui, and rode in from the waves at every angle on ilu and skimwings in a rainbow of colors, gathering around the new arrivals like a school of fish. You watched Tonowari and your father approach from the water, dismounting their skimwings and moving towards the strangers. Your mother and Ronal came from the back of the village, winding their way through the crowd.

You sighed, having a feeling you’d probably be needed, and leapt into the ocean, allowing a swell to carry you towards the shore. You popped up next to Tsireya as she broke the water’s surface on her ilu, allowing yourself to catch your breath.

“What’s going on?” You wondered.

Tsireya shrugged and rolled into the water, strolling up through the shallows to meet Ao’nung and Roxto.

You watched as she and the smaller of the two sons met eyes, and as she tilted her head down to giggle.

Gross.

Of course Tsireya would immediately peak the newcomer’s interest. Why shouldn’t she? You may have been obtuse at the best of times, but you weren’t blind. Tsireya was one of the more beautiful girls in the village, and from the way the younger Sully looked at her, he wasn’t blind either.

You rolled your eyes and plopped down to your knees, wiggling them into the wet sand of the shallow water. The water reached your chest, allowing you to tilt your head and watch Jake Sully’s plea for uturu. As Tonowari looked to your father and mother standing behind him. As his eyes met Ronal’s, and they shared a knowing glance, communicating in a way only mates could without words, before granting Jake Sully’s request.

You could see your mother’s eyes scanning the crowd and the water below, before they found you with a knowing smile.

You smiled in return, and tilted your head in a silent gesture. You were going back out into the water. Your mother nodded, and signed to you.

Go. Be back before eclipse.

You nodded and pushed from the sand, legs extended as you floated onto your back, allowing your belly to fill with air before rolling over and diving below the surface, angling back to the spot from whence you came.

What you hadn’t noticed was the older Sully boy watching you the entire time.

After he’d shoved Lo’ak gently with his shoulder when the younger boy couldn’t peel his gaze from Tsireya’s, Neteyam’s eyes had scanned the crowd. Half to survey the surroundings and half out of an inherent protectiveness, while the rest of the clan had come to the shore, you had remained in the water, staring at his father with nothing more than blinking curiosity.

He could barely see you in between the throng of people. But something in the tilt of your head, in the doe-eyed innocence of your gaze, and the way the ocean clung to you like a second skin had him very, very curious.

When you pushed from the shore and floated on your back, rolling over and swimming away as if you were a fish instead of Na’vi, he had to chuckle.

You hadn’t even noticed him noticing you. After all, no one except your parents up to this point had out of anything other than animosity, or because you were “different”, and not in a good way. While some - Tonowari and Tsireya, like your father - were accepting of those different from them, much of the clan felt the opposite. And as a result, the clan preferred not to notice you.

But you noticed them.

You noticed everything. The glow of a new mother’s skin. A breaking fever. A warrior’s wound when it wouldn’t heal. Things you could appreciate in silence, small things more often than not. Secrets you could share with the water.

You preferred the ocean as your friend anyway.

But this - these new arrivals, this was a big thing. Several 9-foot tall things. And at first, Jake Sully, or rather Toruk Makto, commanded all of your attention. He mystified you. A walking legend. You knew his story, but seeing him in person was a whole different experience.

He may have been a legendary war hero, but he and his family knew nothing about the way of water. More than that, the oldest of his children looked to be about your age.

They were worth watching.

So when you watched their first diving lesson from afar, lounging on a large ocean rock, and when their first breathing lesson went less than spectacular, you too had to press the back of your hand to your lips to keep from laughing.

You may have been a skxawng, but these children reached a whole new level.

One of them - the girl, Kiri, seemed a lot like you.

She explored the same spots you did, ran her fingertips along the bellies of the rays just like you did, and plucked shells from the ocean floor as if she’d been doing it all her life.

So one afternoon, as you watched her scan the ocean floor, you unearthed an iridescent purple shell from the sand and swam over to her, pressing it to her palm with a smile. She smiled in return, and you nodded, swimming away.

From that moment on, Kiri was a kindred spirit.

You were never far apart, though you tended to drift away when a particularly colorful fish caught your eye. Call it a short attention span. But usually, you never swam too far, keeping her within your eye line.

You had enough shells as it was already. So if you found any more, you’d gather them for her, leaving her little piles on the beach as she sat in the shallows. Back and forth, almost like a game, if only so you could discover what her favorite color was. You were never gone more than a few minutes before you’d return to her side and lay in the sand together, letting the sun soak into your skin and warm the chill of the water.

You didn’t even really need to speak. Kiri understood your facial expressions more than words, particularly in the way you’d roll your eyes, so you’d just sit in comfortable silence together, building small structures out of sand and decorating them with the shells you found. Sometimes, little Tuk would join you, staying strictly to the shallower waters or the beach, allowing you to bring her tokens of appreciation as well. Tuk wasn’t picky - she didn’t have a favorite color. She liked everything you brought her, big and small.

It was a strange sort of comfort, having friends who didn’t even really need you to speak. You could just exist, even in silence, and it wasn’t uncomfortable. While the ocean may have been your friend thus far, it was nice to have friends of your own species.

And the more time you spent with Kiri and little Tuk, the more Neteyam noticed you.

The more he noticed the ease with which you hopped from boulder to boulder before diving into the water. The more he noticed the little treasures you’d find for Kiri and Tuk displayed in his family’s mauri. He started to wonder where they were coming from, and how they’d found so many. And then he started to notice that wherever Kiri was, you were usually within diving range. He started to notice the piles of treasures you’d leave her and Tuk, either on the shore or on the edge of their marui. Now, they grew to necklaces and bracelets, woven from their favorite treasures you’d found. A new braid that seemed to pop against their dark hair, a vibrant, colorful shell at its end.

You were never far away from his sisters, and as he was never very far away from them either, Neteyam became the very first to take notice of you.

To be fair, no female had peaked his interest yet either. He was far too busy staying attached at the hip to his baby brother until now. With Tsireya taking Lo’ak under her wing, Neteyam had the free time he’d never had before to take in the ocean around him.

And where there was ocean, you were usually swimming within its waters.

This time was valuable to Neteyam, and usually short lived. Stolen moments like the movement of the waves, there one minute and gone the next. Of course, as the eldest sibling, he still had to keep a reasonable eye on his younger brother and sisters. But with Jake learning the Metkayina’s ways with Tonowari and your father, Lo’ak under regular supervision by someone other than himself, and Kiri and Tuk always within the reef’s circle when they weren’t with Neytiri, Neteyam had the chance to take a breath.

In the same way Tsireya had caught Lo’ak’s eyes, you had captured Neteyam’s attention.

He started to learn your ways more than the Metkayina ways he was meant to be studying. He learned the boulders you favored when they appeared during low tide, and those you favored during eclipse. He learned your favorite paths to swim, and which you hadn’t explored yet.

And boy, it made him laugh when he’d trail you to one of said favorite spots, only for you to dive into the water without even blinking, not realizing he’d been following you.

Selective hearing, maybe, or pure tunnel vision, you usually only noticed the things you were interested in, or the things that were directly in your eyesight. Neteyam was worth noticing, of course, you just hadn’t laid eyes on him yet up close, and you hadn’t yet realized the irony of the one person you were destined for being the one thing you had failed to notice.

Like two moons passing. Two arrows firing towards the same target. Now, Neteyam was just holding his breath, waiting for the two of you to collide.

If you would ever open your skxawng eyes and notice him, for Eywa’s sake.

It took you a solid week to finally realize he existed. And the only way he managed to accomplish this was waiting for you to take your spot on a boulder during a particularly sunny afternoon. He dove in from the shoreline, scanning the ocean floor for something he knew would peak your interest, and found a smooth, polished sea stone that glistened like crystal. If it wasn’t for you, he would’ve kept it.

He’d grabbed it from the sand, and rubbed it clean with a few swipes of his fingers. It was the size of his palm and oval shaped, with no imperfections. When he turned it in his hand, it seemed to sparkle, reflecting the colors of the ocean and the whiteness of the sand. When he passed it by his face, he could see the yellow of his eyes reflected on its surface. Special, and perfect, and new, it was strange the way the stone reminded him of you.

He was positive you hadn’t found something like this yet.

He pushed from the floor with his feet, aiming straight for the boulder he could see you sitting on, your feet dipped in the water beneath you. Slowly, he eased to the surface and emerged from the water.

Your eyes flicked to him, narrowing when you noticed who it was. A low hiss left your lips, but Neteyam just…smiled.

You cocked your head, eyes still narrowed, skeptical of the stranger as he swam towards you. As he approached, he raised his hands, one still closed around something.

“What is that?” You gestured. “In your hand.”

Neteyam eased up towards the boulder and grabbed your wrist, extending your palm towards him, and placed the smooth stone within your grasp.

“For you,” he breathed. Still smiling.

You stared at the stone in your hands, flipping it between your palms and holding it up towards the afternoon light, allowing it to glint in your eyes. Neteyam just grinned, watching your increasing awe in what he’d found.

When you finally met his gaze, and he was still beaming up at you with a toothy grin like you’d never seen before, you couldn’t help but blush and gaze back at the stone in your hands.

“Thank you,” you murmured.

Neteyam nodded, pushing off from the rock. He still wore that same bright smile.

As he floated back towards the shore where Kiri and Tuk were playing in the sand, he touched his forehead and released his palm towards you in a silent gesture.

I see you.

You could feel the heat spread across your cheeks. Turning your attention back towards the stone in your hands, you tried your hardest to keep your gaze from flicking back and forth towards Neteyam as he swam for his sisters on the shore.

Tried, and failed.

The way his deep blue skin seemed to ripple through the ocean water, instead of blending in like yours. The swing of his arms, and the dance of his braids as they floated behind him.

You could still feel the cool, smooth surface of the beautiful new treasure he’d brought you as it lay in your palms. And yet, your eyes stayed glued to him as he emerged from the water, stumbling a bit in the sand when he tried to shake the water from his braids. You chuckled, rolling your eyes.

Definitely a skxawng.

Later that evening, you placed Neteyam’s rock on a shelf in your marui, right in the middle of all of your favorite treasures. Tilting your head, you studied its presence among the rest of your collection, noting the way it reflected the colors of all the shells nearby, brightening their shades and making its own rainbow on the floor of the marui below you, taking the best pieces of each and turning it into something new and brighter. In all the time you’d picked pieces from the sandy ocean floor, you hadn’t found anything quite like this.

Neteyam had definitely gotten your attention.

The next day, you returned to the same boulder, sitting in silence as Kiri wandered the shore behind you. The rock was warm beneath you, and as you lay flat against its surface to bask in the sun, you heard a light splashing that was distinctly un-wave-like coming from your right.

“I know you’re there,” you sighed.

A chuckle came from the same direction as the splashing, and you felt a presence ease up from the water and climb across the boulder to lay next to you.

“How’s it going, water girl?”

Water girl.

And thus, your most recent nickname. You had to chuckle a little; only a skxawng like Neteyam would come up with a name like “water girl”. But alas, it did have a certain ring to it, and of the many names you’d had over the years, something in the way he said it made your insides flutter in a strange way you’d never known before.

It wasn’t paysmung, that was for sure. But it would do.

“Never better, tree boy.”

Another chuckle.

“Tree boy?”

You finally turned your head and opened your eyes to find him as close as he could possibly get without actually touching. His wide, yellow eyes were mere inches from your own, beads of ocean water still clinging to the tips of his eyelashes, and glistening from his forehead.

You couldn’t find it in your heart to try and lie to yourself - he was kind of pretty.

You smiled. “Water girl, tree boy. It fits.”

Neteyam smiled, and up close his smile was even brighter. It was effervescent, glowing like the rock he’d brought you the day before, and you couldn’t help but grin in response.

“Fair enough,” he shrugged, closing his eyes and turning his face towards the sun overhead, letting the warmth of the midday dry his skin.

And just like that, a peaceful silence settled in the air.

It wasn’t uncomfortable by any means, but as you watched the rise and fall of his chest, and the glisten of his cheeks as the light hit their peak, you swore a school of fish was swimming through your stomach. One of his hands rested gently against his stomach, lifting and sinking as he took slow, deep breaths. If you didn’t know any better, you could have sworn he was asleep.

His eyes fluttered open, and you snapped your eyes shut, feigning that they’d been that way the entire time, and that you hadn’t been staring at him as if committing his features to memory. You heard him chuckle softly, and when your eyes opened, he too was scanning your features.

As you watched his eyes flick from the top of your head to the pinnacle of your chest, where your neck dipped and curved into a hollow at its base, you felt your pulse quicken and a small ball of tension seemed to roll through the air around you. The school of fish in your stomach turned into a full swarm, dancing and spinning and tickling your insides.

No one - quite literally no one - had ever made you feel this strange sort of tension just from existing.

But in the same way you found him kind of pretty, he too was entirely raptured by your beauty. In the way the darker skin around your shoulders and hairline turned soft and creamy towards the center of your face. In the fullness of your lips, and the way they parted softly as he gazed at you. In the way the color of your eyes matched the blue of the ocean like no one else he’d seen, as if you were part of the water itself.

He turned toward you, resting himself on an elbow, eyes still scanning for any hesitation from you. But you were frozen, still as the rock beneath you, as he brought a hand up to brush a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

He started to smile, and opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, there was a commotion from the shore. You both sat up, tilting your heads to watch as Ao’nung approached Kiri as she lay in the shallows, three other boys following him.

Neteyam’s stare instantly hardened.

“I’ll be back,” he growled. “Stay here.”

You tried to reach for him, but he dove into the water before you could grab his wrist, swimming for the shore just as Lo’ak approached the group from the other end of the beach.

You watched as he emerged from the water, as he shoved Ao’nung away from Lo’ak, and prodded him with a finger to the chest. Ao’nung raised his hands, and as Neteyam pulled Lo’ak and Kiri away, you allowed a brief release of breath.

And then Lo’ak punched Ao’nung in the face.

Three times.

You were already on your feet when Ao’nung hit the sand, but when Neteyam scratched his head and leapt into the fray, you dove into the water in an instant.

You had just reached the shore when Lo’ak was being pulled by his tail, grasping the nearest Na’vi by the ear. After all, when Lo’ak was grabbed, he tended to grab right back, and with tenfold force. Even you knew this.

Kiri was safe, and fine, on the edge of the fight and trying not to laugh. Neteyam had a clear edge over another boy, and had him pinned by the full force of his body weight. And while no one at noticed your arrival yet, when you walked right up to Ao’nung and grabbed him by the queue, jerking him away, everyone stopped moving as Ao’nung let out a particularly girlish squeal.

Ao’nung’s eyes widened when he realized who had grabbed him.

“That’s…enough,” you growled. “Honestly, behaving like a child.”

You released Ao’nung’s braid, tossing it from your hands. You could feel Neteyam’s eyes boring holes in the back of your skull, Lo’ak’s too. But the way Ao’nung was completely baffled by your intervention, when you had done nothing of the sort for years, had a strange sort of pride swelling in your chest.

You were not one for fighting. Eywa, you weren’t even one for words. Ao’nung only knew of you as the silent freak, who was not even fun to pick on because you simply didn’t respond.

Suddenly, you’d barged right in, and while Neteyam had managed to get them to back off, you had Ao’nung gaping like a fish.

“Three of you,” you continued. “Against one. Really upstanding behavior, Ao’nung.”

Ao’nung’s eyes narrowed, and the surprise wore off.

But still, you kept speaking, tilting your head and matching his squint.

“Shall I fetch your father?”

Ao’nung instantly closed the distance between you, puffing his chest and squaring his jaw with yours.

“That’s rich,” he leered, “coming from the biggest freak of them all. You’re even worse than Kiri.”

Before you even had a chance to respond, and before the telltale tears could well in your eyes, your gaze was interrupted as Neteyam quite literally forced his way between you. He shoved Ao’nung aside for the second time, with such force that Ao’nung stumbled into the water.

This time, however, Neteyam kept one arm wrapped securely around your waist, and his tail around your upper thigh.

You were pressed flush to him, as if you were a second skin, giving you a front row seat to the clench of Neteyam’s jaw.

“Stop. Leave her alone.”

Ao’nung studied his surroundings. The three others still hadn’t stood from the sand, where they lay with hands clutching their various injuries. Lo’ak stood between them and Kiri, and despite the slight sway of his stance, his fists were clenched and his brow was hardened in a gaze eerily similar to Neteyam’s own stare.

And what was worse - from over Neteyam’s broad shoulder, you could faintly make out the silhouettes of Jake, Ronal, and Tonowari approaching from the edge of the village.

They didn’t look happy.

Ao’nung turned to his friends, and gave a slight gesture.

“Let’s go.”

They left, leaving you still pressed to Neteyam, your hand now resting against his bicep. It was warm beneath your fingertips, and you could feel the ripple of his muscle beneath your touch as he let go of you, replacing the smooth skin of his back with a firm grip on your waist as his eyes turned to meet your own.

“Go,” he murmured, voice lowered as if no one could hear. “Go back to the rock. I’ll meet you soon. I have to talk to my dad.”

You nodded, looking past him as Jake stopped halfway to you, just as Ao’nung passed him with the three others. You had only seconds before he would reach you.

Your eyes returned to his, dipping below to where a cut had opened in his lower lip.

“Will you be alright?”

He nodded. “I’ll be fine. Go.”

Reluctantly, you slid from under his grasp, and turned back towards the water. You turned briefly to Kiri and Lo’ak, making sure they too were alright, before you jogged away and leapt into the water, swimming for the same boulder you’d just come from.

You stopped halfway to catch your breath, and turned your head to where Neteyam was following Jake back towards the village. Jake had a firm grip on Lo’ak’s upper arm, and was tugging him along the sand, wearing the same scowl he’d had moments prior.

Neteyam’s head was hung low, his fist pressed to his cut lip, braids only barely swinging as he trudged behind his father.

You sighed. As you turned back to finish the brief swim to your boulder, you sent a silent prayer. Hoping Jake would go easy on them - particularly on Neteyam, who had only stepped in to protect Lo’ak, and who would have succeeded had the odds been more evenly matched.

When you reached the boulder and climbed out of the water towards the surface, you stood for a moment, watching the now miniature figures of Jake, Lo’ak, and Neteyam disappear into the shadows of village. You sighed again, and having hoped you’d be able to see them from your small vantage point, you sank down onto the rock.

Feeling perfectly hopeless.

If anything, you wished you had done more. You wished you had followed Neteyam immediately, or even more that you had managed to grab him. That you had dove into the water together, and approached the group at the right moment.

You wished, more than anything, that you hadn’t waited.

It was starting to gnaw at you - that your life seemed like a bottomless pit of waiting. That you had no power other than to stand still at life’s rocky edge, helpess to do anything other than watch as moments passed you by. You were the silent one; the powerless one. The freak, as Ao’nung had put it. And even if you tried, you could quite literally do nothing to help as those around you seemed to suffer.

Now more than ever, this gnawing deep within started to feel more and more like a heavy weight. It hadn’t bothered you until Neteyam had entered the picture, but the vision of his split lip, and the bruises beneath his right eye, and the scrapes on his chest now made the tears you’d held back come bursting to the surface.

You had only known him in actuality for no more than a day, and yet the way he’d come bursting to your rescue had you not only confused, and perfectly and completely smitten, but utterly heartbroken that he’d even needed to do so.

And moreover, entirely positive that you weren’t worth saving.

Kiri was - there was no question about that. Lo’ak definitely was, especially when he was that outnumbered and still managed to do considerable damage to his assailants.

And then…there was Neteyam.

Neteyam, who had successfully stopped the fight with nothing more than his presence.

Neteyam, who when you arrived had Roxto pinned beneath him, who had Roxto powerless to fight back as he swung punch after punch. Who would have won for the second time if there had been one less to account for.

Neteyam who, in truth, did not need your help winning.

You had yourself fully convinced of this by the time you heard a light splashing coming from your left, and growing closer. You felt the lump in your throat swell as Neteyam eased his way onto the boulder, and that same lump grew larger when he grunted at the effort of bringing himself to your side.

That groan, that all-encapsulating sound of pain, had you nearly shattering as your eyes opened, and you sat up to meet him face to face.

When his eyes met yours, and you came in full view of the now purple bruise beneath his eye, and the cut in his lip that was seeping blood, and the scratches on his chest that extended the full length of his right pectoral muscle, you made a strange squelching sound, and plopped your head to his left shoulder.

If you could have only seen the way Neteyam’s eyes widened at your touch, and softened at the feeling of wetness on his skin when he realized you were crying, you would have only broken more completely.

Neteyam was not used to girls he liked crying on him, that much was certain. In fact, Neteyam didn’t have much time for girls period. So the fact that you seemed to be upset - over him - was entirely perplexing, confusing, and perfectly heartbreaking, all at the same time.

Sure, he’d wanted you to notice him. Sure, he’d wanted you to return his pathetic attempts at affection, that he hadn’t yet realized you didn’t find pathetic in the least. Sure, he’d wanted to bring the two of you closer, and he’d wanted nothing more than your worlds to finally collide.

But not like this.

Don’t get him wrong, he didn’t particularly enjoy standing up for Lo’ak day in and day out - but that was his job. Literally, as the oldest brother, it was in his internal code to defend his younger siblings. It was his job to get Lo’ak out of the trouble he somehow managed to always be getting into.

But this - this was new. This was different, and ugly, and soul-wrenching. He loathed the feeling that ate him up inside now, as he brought up a hand to rest against the back of your head.

He’d seen Jake do this for Neytiri many times. He’d seen Jake comfort Kiri this way, and he’d seen it work.

What he hadn’t picked up on was the mirroring of pain that Jake felt when he had to comfort those closest to him. Realistically, Jake just hadn’t shown this, especially when his kids were around. It would have been helpful to know how much the sound of you crying - over him - would absolutely obliterate him, but then again, Jake probably would have never discussed it, even if Neteyam asked. It would have been helpful to know that by comforting you, that by taking away your pain, he would only be absorbing it into his own skin.

So, Neteyam did what he knew how to.

With the one hand still resting on your head, he brought the other to the small of your back, pulling you in as closely as he could, stroking your skin in soothing, circular motions. Hushing you, whispering in your ear, and trying with all his might to get you to stop crying. To make you stop being sad if he could.

Because as he thought about it, he realized he hadn’t yet seen you smile.

Actually smile.

You’d grinned, of course, and bared your teeth at him in a hiss. You’d smiled with your lips closed, and he’d seen you let out small smiles, only when you were around Kiri or Tuk. And he definitely hadn’t seen you laugh yet.

The moment he realized this, he decided right then and there that if he had any say in the matter, you wouldn’t ever be sad like this again. That he would never, ever give you a reason to cry over him again.

And just like it was his duty to protect his siblings, Neteyam made a solemn vow to himself, the ocean, and Eywa - and frankly, anyone who was listening - to add you to that list.

He would never again stand for a skxawng like Ao’nung, or anyone else, making you feel like you were less than the perfect being you were. And he certainly wouldn’t allow anyone else to ever again make you feel like you were a freak. To Neteyam, you were as perfect as the stone he’d brought you the first time you met, and the moment you were done crying, he was going to make sure you knew it.

And if Ao’nung wasn’t already bruised into the ground from Lo’ak’s powerful right hook, then Neteyam was going to put him there, chief’s son or not.

Neteyam let loose the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in. For the first time since he’d climbed up to meet you on the rock, his focus shifted from where you sat silently, head still resting on his shoulder, tears slowed and breathing returning to an even keel, to the salty water stinging the cut on his lower lip.

You felt him shift, as he brought the hand that had been resting on your lower back up to his lip, and you felt him tense beneath you at the self-inflicted pressure. A low groan left him, and you finally had to tilt back from your spot against his shoulder to study his face. He was blinking from the pain, his tongue rubbing at the offending cut, smearing a trail of blood across his chin.

You brought your hand to his, pulling it away from his face to give you full view of where his once perfect lower lip bore a gash the size of your thumb. You winced, and brought your free hand to his cheek, stroking with your thumb the area that had bruised beneath his eye. And without thinking, you leaned in, gently pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth where there was no cut.

Perhaps you thought it would make him feel better. Perhaps you thought you could take away some of his pain. Perhaps you were hoping for some sort of redemption, after you had behaved quite unlike yourself for the past few hours. After you hand dissolved at the mere sight of him, and had sat there like a skxawng with your head in his shoulder, your salty tears soaking into his skin.

Still, you had no idea what came over you.

Now though, as you studied his face, and his still widened eyes from your half-kiss, and ran a gentle finger over the scratches on his chest, you felt your normal steely resolve return somewhere deep within you.

“You’re hurt,” you murmured.

Neteyam shrugged. “It’s fine.”

As he spoke, the blood was beginning to pool, even from such minimal effort. You shook your head and stood from the rock, pulling him up with you by the hand.

“Come. Let’s get you patched up.”

You dragged him down the line of boulders, chuckling softly when he nearly missed a jump, stumbling slightly from the rocky surface. As you reached the outskirts of the village, you both slowed from a jog to an easy walk, Neteyam only needing to extend his gait to come level with you, his arm brushing against yours as you made your way to your marui.

You had to swallow down the slight spark of excitement building in your throat at his touch, and forced your focus to narrow on the injured boy following you.

This was no easy feat, to be sure. But as you entered your marui, and gestured for Neteyam to sit on your mat, you felt that same steely resolve take over as you gathered your supplies.

When you turned back towards him, a pile of bowls and dressings in your hand, Neteyam yet again had his hand against the cut, and his tongue running against it’s edge.

“Stop that,” you barked, “You’re making it worse.”

Neteyam’s hand dropped to rest in his lap, and as you knelt before him, organizing your supplies at your side, you could feel him watching you. Studying you.

You chose for the moment to ignore his piercing gaze. Instead, you brought a hand to his ankle, gently pushing it aside where he had been sitting cross-legged, allowing you to scoot your way in between his legs. He allowed his arms to stretch out behind him, resting the majority of his weight on the heels of his hands.

When he had made himself mostly comfortable, you started with the scratch on his lip. If only just to get him to stop messing with it.

You cleaned it first, wiping away the smears of blood, and after you’d cleaned and sanitized it, you gently applied pressure with a clean cloth.

“Hold here,” you whispered, and Neteyam obeyed, bringing one hand to rest upon the cloth.

This gave you the chance to apply a smooth, buttery healing salve to the bruises beneath his eyes, and those smattering the skin around his neck and chest. Next, you applied the same salve gently to the scrapes on the skin of his chest, and wrapped a bandage from around his shoulder to cover them, and to allow the salve to seep into the cuts so they would heal. The muscles in his chest rippled beneath your touch, and a low hiss left his lips from the slight, momentary sting as you finished your work.

Finally, you gently pulled his hand away from his lip, removing the cloth with it.

The bleeding had stopped from the pressure, and the wound was now clotted. You took the same salve on the pad of your forefinger, and eased closer to Neteyam, your face mere inches from his own. Studying the wound, you brought a hand beneath his chin to steady him, and bending forward, you flicked your eyes up to meet his.

“This will sting again,” you muttered, waiting for him to gently nod.

When he closed his eyes, you went to work, applying the salve as quickly and gently as you could so the sting wouldn’t last.

You didn’t even notice that as you finished your work, removing the bandage from around his chest where the salve had soaked into his skin, Neteyam could not stop staring at you. You didn’t notice, that is, until you bent back, resting on your heels, and came face to face with him.

This time, Neteyam had closed the distance between you, his knees resting against yours, and has he brought one hand to tangle in your hair, his other hand swept a stray strand behind your ear for the second time that day.

And just like that, your breath was stolen from you in a small sigh that left your lips.

For a moment, everything seemed to pause.

For a moment, it was just you and him, eyes connected. His piercing gaze seemed to search yours, eyes flicking back and forth, scanning for any sign of hesitation from you. One of his hands rested on your cheek, and the other rested against the back of your neck, still tangled in your thick hair. He blinked once, twice, still studying you for any sign of pause, or resistance.

And other than the fact that you had stopped breathing almost entirely, there was none.

Your heart didn’t even have time to skip a full beat before Neteyam brought his lips to yours.

For a moment, all you could taste was the tangy bitterness of the salve against your lips. For a moment, it seemed as if your lips hadn’t actually met yet, the salve creating a slippery barrier between you where your lips couldn’t find traction.

And then Neteyam was pulling away, just for a moment, laughing breathlessly, grabbing the cloth from beside him and wiping away the salve from his lips and yours.

You laughed, really honestly laughed as he palmed the cloth against your lips, muffling the sound only slightly, and you squeezed your eyes shut as he brushed the cloth against your lips.

He was laughing too, and once the salve was gone, the both of you had to pause, catching your breath.

Of course your first real kiss would be tainted by a skxawng with a cut on his lip, that you had just spent time trying to heal.

When both of you had caught your breath, Neteyam’s eyes met yours, and he smiled at you. You already thought his smile was blinding, but now, you swore you could see the stars reflected in his wide grin. You couldn’t help but smile in return, a breathy chuckle leaving your lips.

“You skxawng,” you breathed. “I just fixed that cut.”

Again, Neteyam closed the distance between you, hands gripping beneath your thighs to draw you into his lap, where you wrapped your legs around his waist and draped your arms over his shoulders. As you rested there, safe and warm within his grasp, your gaze meeting his, Neteyam let loose a deep, weighted sigh. And again, his hand came up to rest against your cheek, his thumb gently stroking against your lower lip.

He shrugged, grinning still.

“I don’t care.”

And for the second time that evening, with bated breath, Neteyam closed the short distance between you and brought his lips to yours.

This time, you had the upper hand. This time, he angled his head to parallel with your own, allowing the kiss to instantly deepen. This time, his hands gripped and massaged at the skin of your thighs, coaxing a sigh from your lips that met with his own heavy breathing in a tangle of knotted air.

This time, instead of the bitter salve, all you could taste, all you could feel was him.

He tasted sweet, and minty, with a salty edge that reminded you of the ocean. And while his lower lip had been marred by a deep cut - which you would be thanking Ao’nung for later - the rest of his lips were plump and soft and perfect against your own. Like molten lead, or a pair of pearls fused together with time, his lips against yours matched like two pieces of the same cloth.

And slowly, a knot began to grow within you, deep within your core, that had you positively certain you couldn’t get enough of him.

Neteyam couldn’t get enough of you either. When your small, soft hands scratched against his chest, he let out a low moan that he was positive he’d never made before, and he grabbed at you with a force like he was going to sink you into his skin and never let you go, like he couldn’t exist without you.

And maybe, in truth, he could, but as you pushed from his lap and grabbed him by the neck, pushing him against the mat beneath you in a furious tangle of teeth, lips, and limbs, Neteyam was absolutely certain that while he could live without you, he definitely didn’t want to.

It was there, on the floor of your marui, that you stayed with him until eclipse had long passed. Until your lips had become bone dry, and his cut had come open again. Until all the breath had sucked from your lungs, in a way you’d never felt before in all your years mastering breathing where there was no air.

It was there that Jake and your father found you both, dead asleep, tangled up together and splayed out on your mat. A blanket covered you, and one arm was wound around Neteyam’s chest, your legs wound between his.

Jake hadn’t seen Neteyam sleep this peacefully in years - not since Lo’ak had started walking.

His eyes met your father’s, and they shared a knowing grin, before backing out of the marui to meet with Neytiri and Kxali on the edge of the village. Neither of them had the heart to interrupt the two sleeping teenagers, and both of them seemed to have a deep understanding that while the two of you had grown up apart, now, you had found each other. Now, you had found a small slice of peace, and though they didn’t particularly enjoy the thought of the mischief you two would get up to together, it paled in comparison to the thought of forcing you two apart.

Neither Jake nor Elpawe were going to let that happen.

Of course, Lo’ak took the mickey out of Neteyam when he returned to his family’s marui the next morning. The Mighty Warrior had spent all night, tangled up with a girl? In Lo’ak’s eyes, Neteyam deserved some teasing.

Neteyam took it well as always, shoving Lo’ak gently by the chest, playfully grinning as Lo’ak shoved him right back, sending Neteyam stumbling over the marui’s edge and right into you.

You caught him by his arms, steadying him.

Seeing Lo’ak behind him grinning like the devil, and surrounded by his family, you tilted your head and gestured towards Neytiri and Jake.

“I see you,” you spoke, bringing your finger from your forehead towards Neteyam’s parents.

They nodded, returning the favor, and you did not particularly like the knowing grin on Jake’s face, or the steam that seemed to be coming from Neytiri’s ears at the sight of her oldest son with a stranger from another clan. But when Jake placed a hand on Neytiri’s knee, she softened, and smiled up at Neteyam.

“Go,” she said, “And be back before eclipse this time, please.”

Neteyam nodded, not speaking, his face turning a brilliant shade of red. Chuckles arose from his siblings, and you could hear the entire family dissolve into laughter as Neteyam tugged you by the hand towards the beach.

When you reached the shoreline, plopping down into the sand, Neteyam sitting next to you, you finally let loose the laughter you’d been holding in.

Your head tilted back, you let out a loud, barking laugh, shaking your head, and looked to Neteyam.

“I’m sorry,” you breathed, in between a fit of giggles. “I’m so sorry.”

The way he was looking at you, brows quirked, studying you again, made you remember that first day on the rock, when you had studied him the same way as if you were committing his features to memory. You didn’t realize of course, that Neteyam actually was committing your bright smile and the sound of your laugh to memory, somewhere deep in his mind where he would never forget it.

And then he smiled, and laughed with you, and tackled you into the sand, sending you both into another fit of howling laughter.

When he pulled back, only for a moment, he smiled down at you, and waited for you to smile in return, before connecting his lips with yours. This kiss was new, and different - passionate, tender, and slow, his lips seemed to dance with yours. Not only that, but he brought one leg between your own, the other pressed firmly into the sand beneath you, and his entire upper body seemed fused with yours in a perfect molding of skin against skin, like roots digging beneath the earth.

Again, you found peace within each other’s touch. The world around you disappeared until it was just you and Neteyam. Even the sand beneath you faded away, and all you could feel was his chest pressed to yours, and his hands gripping at your waist and your thighs and anywhere he could easily reach. You were certain he was going to leave bruises behind where his fingers dug into your skin, but if you were positive of one thing, it was that you didn’t mind.

If you could have one wish, if Eywa could grant you one thing, it was that you could stay here forever with him on the warm sand, tangled up in his arms, his braids tickling against your cheeks, his smile mirroring yours when he pulled away, breathless and sighing.

When he did pull away to breathe, you didn’t let him stay apart from you for very long.

In the same way he’d grasped at you like you were a lifeline, you wound your arms around his shoulders and pulled him back into you, reconnecting your lips in a flurry of motion, and wound your legs around his hips, giving him access to the soft skin of your thighs.

And if you were feeling particularly bold, you’d grasp him with your legs and tackle him into the sand, pinning him beneath you in a wild spray of hair and limbs and breathless laughter.

There you’d stay for as long as you could, hands against his chest and lips fused together like iron, his own palms exploring places they hadn’t before, running up and down your back, and your thighs, and the roundness of your bum, squeezing and grasping at any soft parts of your skin that he could reach.

You’d let him, sighing breathlessly against his lips. And sometimes, you’d pull him into a sitting position, grabbing at the nape of his neck. The more you started to explore each other, the more you discovered things you liked about his supple skin, and the more marks he left on your own, in the soft spots where your neck met your shoulder. You too left a few marks of your own, in little scratches on his back, or in the equally buttery soft skin of his neck and shoulders. The more marks you left behind, the more beautiful noises you coaxed from his lips, and the more you enjoyed peppering his skin with brands claiming him as yours.

Days, and weeks, and months passed like this, in a beautiful blur of young love.

Neither of you planned for Neteyam to leave you behind.

And what was worse, you hadn’t even been there when it happened. You were there for his funeral, off somewhere in the water as Jake and Neytiri laid him to rest with your ancestors. As Lo’ak and Payakan swam by, brother with brother. When Jake and Neytiri went to the Spirit Tree, you followed them, tucking yourself deep into the branches where they couldn’t see you, and connecting your queue to one of the glowing palms.

When Jake found you on the beach a few days later, crying into your hands, he had plopped down in the sand next to you in a manner eerily similar to Neteyam.

When he’d wrapped an arm around you, bringing you into his chest, he told you - and only you - what he’d seen in the visions the Spirit Tree gave him the night of Neteyam’s funeral.

Somewhere in the middle of his story, your tears had slowed. Somewhere during his tale, you’d looked up from your hands, wiping away your tears, and leaned into his strong embrace.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know,” Jake uttered in reply, squeezing you a bit tighter. “I’m sorry too. He loved you, you know.”

You nodded, sniffling.

“I know. I loved him, too.”

Later that evening, as your mother came and kissed you goodnight, wiping away a few stray tears from your eyes, she lay next to you and sang you to sleep with the same song she’d sung during your early years.

You’d cried in her arms for several minutes, and she’d whispered in your ear just as Neteyam had. It had only made you cry more, how little things were reminding you of him, chipping away at the gaping hole he’d left behind.

As you finally drifted off, your mother still stroking your hair, she’d whispered to you in the silence, just as she’d done when you were a baby.

“Hush, paysmung. Listen to the ocean,” she murmured softly. “He is in the water now. He is with you.”

- -

You padded along the beach, one hand held above your brow to shield you from the sun, toes digging into the sand as you hopped along, jumping over shells the waves were leaving behind. The trees blew in the wind, and the waves were on your left, crashing against the sand and pulling back into the ocean.

Your hair blew in the breeze behind you, cooling you from the warmth of the sun, and you turned, smiling, to watch as Neteyam came jogging up to meet you.

Oh, Neteyam.

He was even more stunning in your dreams, if it were even possible, and his effervescent smile still had the power to make you smile in return.

He came running up to you, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you into his chest, lifting you off your feet and spinning you in circles. Making you smile, and laugh, your head ducking into his shoulder as your long hair tangled with his braids.

When he set you back on your feet, the both of you slightly dizzy, you smiled up at him, your arms still wound around his neck. His arms were still tightly around your waist, strong and muscular, pressing you flush against him.

One of his hands released a braid from where it had stayed tangled in your long, wavy hair, but while one of his arms stayed wrapped around you, his free hand came to rest softly against your cheek.

“How’s it going, water girl?” He breathed, smiling.

Suddenly, a great sadness overcame you, and even in your dreams you felt a lump rise up in your throat, constricting you.

“My Neteyam,” you croaked. “Why did you have to leave?”

“Ah, water girl,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”

He closed his eyes, and brought his forehead to yours, your breathing tangling together as a few stray tears escaped down your cheeks. When your eyes finally opened, tears were spilling down his cheeks too, and you brought your thumbs to swipe them away.

You were allowed to cry - Neteyam was not.

“It’s okay,” you gasped. “I’ll be okay.”

Neteyam smiled sadly at you, brushing your hair from your face. The both of you could tell you didn’t quite believe your own words.

“I know. I know you’ll be okay, water girl.”

He brought his lips to yours, pressing them together in slow, tender circles. A breeze blew through, sending your hair blowing wildly behind you, the beads of Neteyam’s braids clicking against each other in the wind. And still, you did not break apart for as long as you could bear, only separating from him when the both of you could no longer breathe.

Once again, he brought his forehead to yours.

“I can’t stay,” he murmured. “You have to wake up soon.”

Your chest started feeling as if it was going to cave in, and a panic rose up within you like a great wave.

“No,” you choked out. “I don’t want to, I don’t want you to go.”

“I know.”

Neteyam ran his thumb across your cheeks, swiping away another wave of tears from your skin.

“I know, my love.”

A great wave crashed from behind him, splashing up against your calves, tangling you in the water.

“It’s time,” Neteyam sighed.

“No,” you protested. “No.”

You grabbed onto him as tightly as you could, digging your face into his shoulder and pulling him into you.

“Please don’t leave me,” you cried between sobs, “Please. I don’t want you to leave.”

“I know. But it’s time. The ocean is calling,” Neteyam said as he separated from you, holding both of your hands in his.

Another great wave crashed onto the shore, rising up around you and pulling Neteyam from your grasp.

“Neteyam, no!”

Neteyam looked out at the ocean, and turned back to you, a bright smile once again adorning his beautiful features. He reached for you, your fingers barely touching his, the ocean rising and pulling the two of you apart.

“Don’t worry, my love. I’m with you.”

As he swam off into the water, you watched him until he was a small speck on the horizon. It was only then that he turned, and waved at you in a silent goodbye.

As you waved back, the ocean swelled around you, wrapping you in a tight embrace that smelled distinctly like him.

Don’t worry, water girl. I’m never very far.

- -

ow this horted

thank you for reading

xoxo, carrie