Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Neteyam smelt the salt of the ocean far before he ever reached it. He had smelt it once before, and despite it’s foreign scent, he found it exciting and comforting in an odd way.

Now, riding his Ikran with the tension permeating the air around his family, the smell only dug a pit into his gut and set his nerves on edge.

The sun shone too bright and the air a little too warm. A small patch of dry, open sand sat beside the Metkayina village. It would serve as the perfect landing strip.

A horn blared, presumably announcing the arrival of Neteyam and his family.

Neteyam zeroed in on the sand patch, and Tsyale screeched her agreement as she spread and flapped her wings to slow her descent from the air. 

A large crowd gathered as Neteyam and his family landed their Ikran. Several of the Metkayina stared at the flying creatures. Parents held their children back.

Neteyam dismounted from Tsyale, patting her neck as he disconnected their Kuru. 

The heat from the sand warmed Neteyam’s wind cold feet. The scents of each person made him dizzy and nauseous, but he remained firm and steady on his feet from several years of practice.

Several younger members of the clan approached the newcomers. One caught Neteyam’s attention. An Alpha. Tall, far taller than Neteyam and Lo’ak, with curls braided up and piled on top of his head in a tight bun. A single necklace was all he wore, and bare of the tattoos the decorated the skin of the other Metkayina.

He eyed Neteyam and Lo’ak, stalking them like prey. Neteyam greeted him and the shorter boy behind him. Lo’ak followed suit.

The boy circled them, then laughed.

“Is that supposed to be a tail?” He said.

Neteyam’s tail flicked in response, drawing more laughter from the boy. Neteyam huffed his dissatisfaction.

A pretty girl emerged from the water, and Neteyam didn’t miss the way Lo’ak looked at her, or the way the boy behind them suddenly had something better to do than pay attention to the outsiders.

The crowd parted, and from it emerged the tallest Na’vi Neteyam has ever seen. His curls were half tied up in a top knot with the remaining free hair falling just below his shoulders. His cape was a bright orange and red, and Neteyam was certain he recognized Ikran wings incorporated into it. A necklace of large teeth took over all the open space around the man’s neck, and a clearly armored chest piece wrapped around the left side of his chest. Tattoos covered the man’s face, neck, chest and arms, putting him above all others of the clan surrounding Neteyam and his family.

Jake gestured with his hand, giving a very sincere “I see you” before approaching who was clearly the Olo’eyktan, Tonowari. The man reciprocated.

Neteyam had heard of Tonowari’s calm yet strong presence, and his strong earthy scent almost made Neteyam vomit from its intensity. Instead, he swallowed down the bile that crawled up his esophagus.

A woman slipped through the crowd as well with a large shell on her forehead, a skirt with woven shells hanging low on her hips, her neck piece with yet more shells and small stones, and tattoos on her face, neck and chest separating her as the Tsahik, a woman named Ronal.

“I see you, Ronal, Tsahik of the Metkayina.”

His father gestured again, and his mother followed suit. Neteyam nudged Lo’ak, and they copied their parents.

The Tsahik watched them all with narrowed eyes and pursed lips, her dissatisfaction evident in even the most minute of her facial expressions.

“Why do you come to us, Jakesuully?” Tonowari asked, watching carefully as Jake picked up Tuk.

“We seek uturu,” his father said, worry knit into his scrunched brow. His mother placed a hand between his father’s shoulders in silent comfort.

The crowd gasped, and both leaders shared a glance with each other. Ronal stepped forward.

“Uturu?” She spat, eyes narrowed further directly at Jake.

“Yes — sanctuary for my family.” His father held Tuk just a little tighter.

“We are Reef people. You are forest people. Your skills will mean nothing here.” Tonowari’s voice betrayed his calm, exasperation evident the more words came out.

“We will learn your ways!” his father cried. They were all desperate for the chance to protect the others of their clan. This was how his father thought it best would happen.

Ronal circled the Sully family, examining them like a prized Omega being bought off. His father had told him the horrors on Earth that Omega’s went through just existing, and the mere idea of it sent gooseflesh prickling across his skin and a shiver down his spine.

Tonowari’s voice cut through Neteyam’s nerves like a blade.

“Your tails are weak. You will be slow in the water.”

The boy who had initially remarked about their “small” tails stood beside the Chief, smirk growing as he realized the leaders of his tribe thought the Sully’s to be just as useless as he had.

Neteyam straightened further, just as desperate in his own way to help in his family’s acceptance.

Ronal snarled, grabbing Kiri’s tail and wrapping the appendage around her wrist, then flicking it away. Her contempt was written all over her face. She detested outsiders. She detested the Sully’s on a near fundamental level, if her face was anything to go by.

“These children are not even true Na’vi!” Ronal punctuated the bite in her words by holding up Kiri’s hand and grabbing Lo’ak’s. The entire village gasped.

Jake held up his hands, showing the entire crowd. Neteyam grimaced as several people cowered away. 

“I was born of the Sky People, but now I am Na’vi. We will adapt.”

Neytiri’s glare said it all — the Tsahik had one chance to back away from her children before it became a problem.

She stepped out from behind her husband, leveling Ronal with her gaze. 

“My Husband was Toruk Makto. He led the clans to victory against the Sky People.” Pride oozed from each word. Neytiri loved her husband, and took great satisfaction in the actions he took to honor Eywa.

“This you call victory? Hiding among strangers?” The Tsahik glanced between Neteyam’s parents, doubt in her eyes despite a near neutral expression. “It seems Eywa has turned her back on you, Chosen One.”

His mother snarled at the Tsahik, teeth bared. The Tsahik did not back down, returning the hiss with one of her own.

The chief and his father shared a look, and Jake stepped in, quick to apologize and diffuse the situation.

“Do not apologize for me!” Neytiri snapped.

Ronal nodded, taking the attempt at diplomacy as a chance to stare back at her own mate.

Tonowari gave Ronal a warning look. He locked eyes with Jake — alpha to alpha. His People’s eyes upon him, he examined the crowd. It would be dangerous ground whichever way he decided.

The paired leaders shared a look, communicating full ideas in just one glance. It reminded Neteyam of his own parents. They had a way of talking in front of everyone with just their eyes that was uncanny in its clarity. It was the way only those mated for life before Eywa seemed to be able to communicate with one another.

“Toruk Makto is a great war leader. All Na’vi people know his story,” Tonowari paused. “But we Metkayina are not at war. Death follows you wherever you go, Jakesuully. I can not let you bring your war here.”

“I’m done with war. I just want my family safe.”

Jake squeezed the young girl in his arms, placing a hand on the back of her head and cradling her head in the crook of his neck.

Tonowari scanned the crowd once again, then closed his eyes and nodded his head before slowly opening them. Assent. Tonowari had accepted Uturu.

“Toruk Makto and his family will stay with us. Treat them as Brothers and Sisters. They do not know our ways, so they will be like babies taking their first breath. Teach them our ways so they do not suffer the shame of being useless.”

The crowd murmured their agreement with their Chief.

“Thank you,” Jake said, unable to hide his gratitude.

“My son Ao’nung and daughter Tsireya a will show the children what to do.”

The boy stepped forward.

“Father, why—“

Tonowari cut his son off.

“It is decided.”

The Chief quickly took his mate from the crowd, and Tsireya, an omega if her floral, sugar sweet scent was anything to go by, grabbed both Neteyam’s and Lo’ak’s hands in hers.

“Come! I will show you our villiage!” She giggled out the words, as if it would have brought her no greater joy than to show around the Newcomers.

Ao’nung, while clearly displeased at the prospect of being in charge of these new people, begrudgingly took up residence beside Neteyam. Neteyam almost called him out for his earlier actions, before he noticed that with his own brother beside him, the alphas had him boxed in against the crowd. An odd display of instinct that was comforting in its familiarity.

Everyone stared as his family followed Tsireya. Several of the villagers held their chins firmly down as they locked eyes with Neteyam. Surprisingly, a few lifted their chin in submission. The hierarchy of caste already affirming itself with little work on Neteyam’s part.

“Seems you will be greatly respected, Forest Boy.”

Neteyam blinked at Ao’nung. The alpha laughed.

“Don’t let it get to your head,” he said.

Neteyam rolled his eyes and focused his attention back on the proper guide through the village. The woven flooring made it difficult to walk with any level of stability, but Neteyam did his best. Tuk’s joy and energy were infectious, and Neteyam laughed as she jumped and bounced around the walkways.

Tsireya led the family to a marui of their own.

It was a small structure seemingly woven of the same material of the walkways. It was rather plain, except for a blue reflective material that was the slightest bit transparent, allowing the the sunlight that traveled through to be tinged blue and reflect on the floor and walls like ocean waves lapping at a sandy shore. 

“Once you are settled, me and Ao’nung will be waiting on the beach to begin teaching you our ways,” Tsireya said, bowing and leaving them to settle into their new home.

Everyone dropped their things, and Jake sat himself front and center for the whole family.

“Alright, gather round. Family meeting,” the man said.

Every sat in a circle, and Neteyam, even in the comfort of what was now his home, sat with his back straight and his attention firmly planted on his father. Jake cleared his throat before he spoke.

“I want you kids on best behavior. I mean it. You learn fast, pull your weight and don’t cause trouble. Got it?”

Their father eyed Lo’ak, who rolled his eyes as he spoke.

“Yes, sir.”

Neteyam patted him on the back with a grin. Lo’ak pulled away, smacking his hand away with bared fangs and snarling. Tuk interrupted them, sniffling and with tears in her eye.

”I want to go home.” The young girl cried, fat tears streaming down her face as she rubbed hers eyes to get the infernal things away.

Jake’s face softened, and he gathered the girl up in his arms, nuzzling the side of her head as he rubbed her back.

”Tuk-tuk -- this is our home now.” The words came out soft, and Jake kept nuzzling Tuk. It was small, but the effort worked and Tuk settled just the smallest amount.

The family had their eyes on Jake. He looked around the room, meeting every single pair of eyes. His father opened and closed his mouth rapidly. He wanted to speak, but he couldn’t.

“What does your father always say?” Neytiri said, her voice cutting though the silence.

Every kid rolled their eyes and answered in unison.

“Sullys stick together.”

”That’s right. Sullys stick together,” Jake said with a laugh.

Tuk giggled and nuzzled their father before getting out of his lap and running to Kiri.

Their father brushed his cheek with each of them and their mother before leaving the Marui. Neytiri smiled, and shooed the children to their new duties.

Chapter Text

Neteyam squared his shoulders and navigated the bouncy woven walkways, ignoring the eyes on him and leading his siblings towards the beach. They never made it to the beach, finding a dock. Tsireya, Ao’nung, and the other boy with short curls from earlier were already in the water.

“Come! Join us!” Tsireya smiled, waving them in before all three dived deeper.

Lo’ak and Neteyam shared a glance. Both grinned, and propelled themselves from the dock into the water. Neteyam opened his eyes, and nearly lost the air he tried to hold in.

Schools of tiny fish swam through the crystal clear waters, silver and yellow painting the water around him. Plants swayed with the current, and anemones sat at the bottom of the sandy ocean floor. Plenty of other large creatures swam around, and one with a long neck circled him and nuzzled into the side of his neck. Neteyam reached out, but the creature trilled before disappearing into waters.

Movement caught his eye, and he narrowed in on it. Tsireya signaled to him and Lo’ak, waving them deeper into the water. They exchanged a glance, attempting to follow their underwater guides, but Neteyam’s lungs burned and his throat convulsed. He floundered for the surface, breaching and gasping for air. He registered Lo’ak, and someone else, likely Tuk, surfacing as well.

Neteyam’s brow furrowed, and he took a large gulp of air before diving back down. He swam, making it about halfway towards the group of Reef kids before having to resurface all over again.

Tsireya came up right in front Neteyam and Lo’ak. She was clearly used to swimming far more than teh Sully kids.

“Are you guys alright?” she asked, concerned.

“You guys are too fast!” Tuk cried, wading in the water and barely keeping her head above it.

“You are not good divers. Maybe good at swinging through trees but...” Ao’nung got out between laughs.

Tsireya and Neteyam shot him a look. Ao'nung put his hands up in mock defeat, a smirk still plastered on his face.

“We told you to follow. Why didn’t you come?” Tsireya tilted her head.

“We do not speak this finger talk,” Neteyam stated flatly. He punctuated his words with random hand gestures, emphasizing the lack of knowledge when it came to their signs.

Tsireya’s eyes went wide, then her face softened.

“We will teach you. Come,” she said, making her way back to the dock. She climbed out of the water gracefully, Ao’nung and the other Metkayina boy following. The Sully kids followed, struggling to remove themselves from the water.

Neteyam hopped from one foot to the other, attempting to drip dry faster until Ao’nung and Tsireya gave him a strange look.

Tsireya waved the Sully kids over, and she led the group to a small rocky out cropping, just off the beach behind the village.

“Everyone, sit in a circle.” Tsireya said, and everyone else followed.

Neteyam rolled his eyes when he realized he was between Aonung and Lo’ak once again. Stupid Alpha’s and their stupid instincts.

“How do you connect to Eywa?” Kiri asked as she lazily sat.

”We make the bond underwater, at the Cove of the Ancestors. I will take you when you are ready. But first — you must learn to breathe.”

Tsireya’s tone left no room for argument.

“Constrict your throat, so your breath sounds like the surf. Breathe in slowly -- let your mind go clear -- breathe out slowly.”

Tsireya demonstrated, and her brother and friend replicated her as examples.

Neteyam did as she instructed, finding it relatively easy to duplicate their examples. Lo’ak tried, and Tsireya watched. She interrupted him with a single look. His eyes never left her face.

“Clearer with each breath. You must slow down your heartbeat. Breathe from down here.” Tsireya placed her hand on Lo’ak’s abdomen, right over his diaphragm. The boy jumped just the slightest bit.

“Breathe in -- and breathe out,” she instructed. Lo’ak took a breath, shaky at best. Neteyam held in a snort. His brother was just a little too obvious.

“Your heartbeat is fast, Lo’ak. Try to focus,” Tsireya chastised. Her tone was gentle, almost teasing. Seems she’s just as obvious.

“Sorry, sorry,” Lo’ak said, clearing his throat and staring out at the distance in front of him.

Neteyam snorted, glancing around to see if anyone else noticed how obvious the pair was, and found Ao’nung rolling his eyes and shaking his head. Tsireya continued on as if nothing had happened at all.

“The sea is around you and in you. The sea is your home, before your birth and after your death. The sea takes, and the sea gives. Water connects all things — Life to death, and darkness to light.”

Ao’nung groaned, and Tsireya shot him a withering look.

“This is the core of the Metkayina way.”

Lo’ak nodded along as if it made the most sense out of anything he had ever heard. Neteyam stared at his hands, knowing the frown he felt on his face wasn’t visible. He had spent too long perfecting his facial expressions for him to make a mistake like openly showing his emotions.

He knew what was expected of him. It was the same thing that had been expected of him since he was young — be the perfect son. Follow the rules, always watch out for his siblings, always make sure you get things right as fast as possible, if not get it perfect the first time.

This stint in Awa’atlu was the same as things had always been. He needed to be the dutiful son, keep Lo’ak out of trouble, and protect his sisters. He would not only do it. He would do it perfectly.

“This is great and all, but I have some duties to attend to,” Ao’nung said, shattering the calm silence of Tsireya’s breathing lesson.

“Scavenging pearls again?” Tsireya asked. Ao’nung frowned before giving a small nod.

Neteyam perked up.

He had always thought the were pretty, though he had only ever seen the pearls left behind by some of the Humans from the first war before his birth.

“Could I join you?” Neteyam blurted.

Ao’nung blinked. And suddenly, Neteyam’s face was hot and he no longer really wanted to join in the search for pearls.

Ao’nung stared for a moment, then let out a soft sigh.

“You slow me down Forest boy and I won’t hesitate to let you drown,” Ao’nung said as he stood, offering Neteyam a hand.

Netayam hesitated, before taking Ao’nung’s hand and standing.

An Alpha offering their hand was normal, even expected as a sign of respect to an Omega, but for Neteyam, he was being raised as the next Olo’ekytan of the Omatikaya, and as such, he was revered and treated as a pariah. He did things for himself because he had to prove himself as a warrior and was taught by everyone that his unique status as an Omega meant he was holy and blessed in a way many others weren’t.

Neteyam let go of Ao’nung’s hand as soon as he could, pulling away as if burnt. Ao’nung paid it no mind. He simply began his trek. Neteyam follwed, keeping pace through rocks and underbrush with ease. It almost felt like home.

They reached a small cove with fish swimming around, all in varying colors.

“The clams are usually deeper in the water, so when we come to look for pearls, we come here,” Ao’nung said, stepping into the water and crouching. Neteyam copied him.

Ao’nung reached into the sand, gentle and calm, easily pulling a handful of small clams from the water. Neteyam did the same, finding that the clams weren't buried deep, but just dusted in sand, the thin layer of sediment enough to hide them perfectly when combined with the natural coloring of their shells.

“There is no way to get the pearls without killing them, so we will save the meat and eat it at dinner,” Ao’nung continued.

He handed Neteyam a leather pouch, and he pulled his knife from its sheath.

“In order to get them, we have to first crack the top shell away.” Ao’nung demonstrated, dropping the removed shell in to the leather pouch.

Ao’nung used the very tip of his knife, cutting the flesh away from second shell with deft precision and dropping the second shell into the pouch.

“Then, we squeeze the pearls out,” Ao’nung said.

He used his forefinger and thumb, squeezing them together around the clam meat and running them down the length of it several times, extracting multiple pearls of varying colors.

Neteyam stared in awe at the little pearls. How did there get to be so many colors from one clam? Did the pearls come out a different color depending on what they ate?

He plucked a dark pearl from the pouch. It was nearly black, but in the rays from the Sun, Neteyam could see the pearl was much closer to the dark green of the trees from his forest home.

It made him homesick to the point of nausea. He dropped the pearl back in the bag.

Ao’nung had gotten up at some point, because there was now a woven basket that he had placed the clam meat into.

They made it through a few more clams before Neteyam broke the silence.

“Is there a reason you are gathering pearls?” Neteyam tilted his head, watching Ao’nung’s face for the slightest change.

Ao’nung kept his face neutral, continuing to remove shells and hand Neteyam clams to extract pearls, though his fingers faltered for a split second. He cleared his throat.

“I am making a piece of jewelry for my coming of age,” he replied, his voice low and level.

“Never heard of jewelry making being a trial,” Neteyam said, a smirk on his lips. The Omatikaya were known for their weaving and and textiles, but even then, their trials never included making jewelry.

“It’s not really a trial, but more of an example of our perseverance,” Ao’nung paused, truly looking at Neteyam for first time since he had arrived that morning. That one look sent Neteyam reeling.

“We make a piece of betrothal jewelry for our future mate, whoever they may be. It supposedly shows our devotion to Ewya and the path she has set for us. Ewya will provide, and so we make this betrothal jewelry trusting that we will give it to the right mate in the future, whenever they may come.” Ao’nung said the words with such reverence, such devotion and certainty, Neteyam could not argue it.

How could he? It was what his father would call being a hopeless romantic, but he was one and he knew it deep down he would always be.

So he smiled, small but sincere and gentle, and spoke from his own hopes for Ewya to truly provide who was meant for him.

“I hope that Ewya sees fit to bring them to you soon.”

Ao’nung blinked, immediately turning back to his work, but all tension seemed to melt from his previously tense posture.

They spent their time in comfortable silence, shucking clams and removing the pearls from each one. It was beginning to get dark once Ao’nung stood.

“We should head back,” he said.

Neteyam nodded as he stood, startled by the sudden noise. He held the now heavy bag of pearls and shells, and Ao’nung held the basket of meat. They walked back, reaching the village as dinner was being made and cooked based on the smell wafting in the air.

“Thank you,” Neteyam said, his voice oddly small in his attempt to show gratitude fro allowing him to tag along. 

Ao’nung raised his brow, and Neteyam hurriedly handed back the pouch of pearls and shells.

“I’ll join a little more actively next time. I’ll need some local supplies to make more jewelry from myself,” Neteyam said.

Ao’nung grinned, wide and warm and so full of joy.

“I’d like that. You can show me how a forest boy makes jewelry.”

Neteyam smiled and took the basket of clam meat, turning on his heel and heading toward the main Marui where everyone was gathered for the evening meal. He handed the basket to one of several cooks and hurried towards his family, who were sat beside Tonowari and Ronal.

Tonowari and his father were laughing and trading back and forth hunting stories while their mates remained as cold and detached as they had been earlier in the day. The women were aware that they would not be friends, but they could at least remain amicable in the face of their mates.

Neteyam sat behind his family, opting to steal bites from Kiri’s fingers as she passed food back.

He remained quiet and proper as the meal went on. Ao’nung never showed up, but Tsireya confirmed to Lo’ak that Ao’nung often would not be there until his project was complete. She explained to Lo’ak what Ao’nung had explained to him, and Neteyam snorted and shook his head as he saw the wheels turn in Lo’ak’s simple head. Skxawng.

The meal finished, and everyone headed back to their Marui’s. Neteyam trailed behind his family, holding his hands together around their prize. Protective.

Everyone went to their bed rolls, and was asleep near instantly, having been throughly exhausted from the events of the day. Neteyam sat up, finally opening his hands to stare at the thing he had been holding since he left Ao’nung alone with his bag of pearls; a small, pink and white shell from the clams they had shucked all afternoon.

Neteyam snuck from his families marui to a lit torch further into the village. He sat beside it, letting his feet dangle into the ocean water. He pulled his songcord from around where it was firmly tied around his bicep, careful to untie the loose strands at the end of his incomplete songcord. He carefully took the shell and wove the strands around it, securing it firmly in place before tying it off again and rewrapping the cord around his bicep.

Neteyam tip toed into the marui, and he stored the songcord away amongst his things before closing his eyes and drifting off into some much needed sleep.

Chapter Text

The Sully kids were up bright and early, prepared for the day ahead.

Breakfast was small and fast. The kids practiced diving. Kiri got it right away, which was an unsurprising development as it seemed the world just adapted to her and her alone.

Lo’ak and Neteyam were neck and neck in who had it down better, and with Kiri watching over Tuk, all bets were off.

“Bro, where’d you go with Fishlips to find those pearls?” Lo’ak sputtered, struggling to keep above water.

“Why?” Neteyam asked with a knowing smirk. “You planning to make a betrothal necklace for your little girlfriend, bro?” Neteyam laughed as Lo’ak splashed him with water.

“Betchu your boyfriend thought about you all night long while he made yours!” Lo’ak laughed as Neteyam’s face grew hot.

“Shut your mouth Skxawng at least I’m not asking my brother for romance tips!”

“Ha! Didn’t deny it! Who’s the Skxawng Now!” Lo’ak punctuated his words with a splash.

Neteyam shook his head with a smile. He waded in the water as Lo’ak swam closer again.

“Ao’nung took me to a cove they go to specifically for pearls, but he also said they are deeper in the water too.”

Lo’ak and Neteyam gave each other a look and grinned. They clamped their hands together, firmly squeezing each other's hands.

“You are sooo on, Bro!”

A race. Who could get the most before the Metkayina kids came to join them for another lesson. A test of endurance and speed all at once. Lo’ak didn’t use his head to think about the fact that Neteyam already knew exactly what he was looking for, while Lo’ak had no clue, but Neteyam was betting on Lo’ak not asking what the clams looked like for him to gain an edge and win.

They both took a few deep breaths like Tsireya taught them before diving under the water. Neteyam zeroed in on the sandy ocean floor, kicking himself forward towards it.

A few clams sat at the bottom of the water, so Neteyam grabbed an armful and pushed off from the bottom back to the surface.

Once safely ashore, he took out his knife and started shucking his rather enormous pile of clams, extracting the pearls and rinsing the clams before choosing to eat them raw. He expected to hate it, but the texture was nice and the flavor was fantastic, so he padded out his rather light breakfast with the raw delicacy.

Neteyam watched as Lo’ak surfaced multiple times, never quite looking over towards the shore to see what the clams even looked like or to notice Neteyam had managed to get any to begin with before going back under and searching again.

Neteyam laughed, nuzzling the top of Tuk’s head as she snuck into his lap and stole a freshly washed clam for herself. They finished the whole pile of clams with the shells and pearls in a pile before Kiri surfaced to sit with them.

Ao’nung was standing behind Neteyam laughing when Lo’ak finally noticed Neteyam’s pile.

“Well, seems this Forest Boy is a professional pearl scavenger now,” Ao’nung said, placing his hand on top of Neteyam’s head and ruffling his hair. Neteyam batted away the hand, but never finding any true need to get away. Any kindness was better than the cold detachment and rude jabs of the prior day.

Lo’ak made it back ashore red faced and breathless.

“Hey, Skxawng, maybe you should ask what they look like before you go diving for them,” Neteyam teased, earning the middle finger from Lo’ak before the boy collapsed onto the sand. Neteyam ruffled his hair as Lo’ak took deep breaths.

Ao’nung sat beside Neteyam, keeping the pile of pearls and shells between them. Neteyam glanced around.

“Where’s Tsireya?” Neteyam tilted his head.

“Still getting ready,” Ao’nung said, rinsing the pearls and shells before dropping them into a leather pouch. Neteyam helped, happy to have helped Ao’nung with his clearly grueling and time consuming project. Then, Ao’nung cinched the pouch closed and held it out to Neteyam.

Neteyam stared at the bag, dumbfounded.

“You need your own pearl pouch if you plan to make anything, Forest Boy, so take this one.” Ao’nung shook the pouch, bright blue and silver, almost reminding Neteyam of the small fish he saw swimming in the reef the day before. Neteyam took it, tying it to the string of his loincloth.

“Thanks again, Reef Boy,” Neteyam teased, fixing Tuk’s hair as Lo’ak finally caught his breath and moved between Kiri and Neteyam, brushing shoulders with his brother.

Neteyam snorted to himself.

He loved that his brother cared enough to be protective in any way, but he doubted the oaf needed to worry about it. Ao’nung was not interested. How could he be? They barely knew each other, after all.

Tsireya came jogging down the beach, readjusting her hair and huffing.

“I’m so sorry I’m late! Are we ready to start our lesson for today?”

Everyone nodded in agreement and jumped into the water, ready to see what the day brought.

They swam out a slight bit farther from the main sandy shore, but somehow, they could all comfrotably stand in the shallow waters.

Neteyam watched as Ao’nung stood in front of the group.

“Today, you will be learning to ride Ilu.” He spoke with calm authority, as if he had done this several times over.

Tuk was practically jumping with excitement.

“If you want to live here, you have to ride,” Ao’nung said.

He made a high pitched whistle, and several of the long necked creatures from the day before came swimming around, circling the Sully kids with yips and trills.

One swam up to Neteyam, and he reached his hand out, recognizing it as the one that ran from him yesterday. Today, it seemed content to nuzzle into his open palm, closing it’s eyes.

Everyone paired off, with Kiri seeming to disappear with Tuk on her own adventure of the water and Ilu riding, leaving the oldest four to practice on their own.

Tsireya clicked, and an Ilu swam to her immediately, eager and awaiting a rider. Lo’ak climbed onto it, movement awkward from all eyes being on him.

“Make the bond. Gently.” Tsireya held the reins for Lo’ak as she instructed him.

Lo’ak pulled his braid forward, connecting the kuru and forming the bond. His Ilu startled, jolting forward the slightest bit.

Ao’nung snickered. Neteyam watched as Lo’ak went through every thought in his head in a second, then grabbed hold of the Ilu’s reins and went forward.

He was under the water, then he was surfacing, sputtering out water and gasping for air. Tsireya went to intervene as Ao’nung laughed.

Neteyam bumped his shoulder into Ao’nung’s, and suddenly the boy wasn’t laughing anymore. Neteyam grinned as Ao’nung stared at him with wide eyes.

“Well, c’mon, Reef Boy, show me how to do it right. I don’t like to fail, and I can actually listen to instructions unlike that Skxawng,” Neteyam teased.

Ao’nung shook his head, a smile hovering on his lips as he clicked, calling over Neteyam’s new Ilu friend. Neteyam lovingly rubbed the top of it’s head, then mounted it with ease.

“Like Tsireya said, make the bond, but be gentle. Ilu are sensitive,” Aonung instructed.

Neteyam connected the kuru, stroking the neck of his Ilu. She trilled, nuzzling up into his hand, and he smiled.

“Good girl,” he whispered.

“Now, loosen up your posture. Be fluid and get low and close, or the water will take you off the second she picks up speed.”

Neteyam nodded at Ao’nung’s words, relaxing and taking a few deep breaths to sync himself with his Ilu. He urged her forward, taking a few breaths, and did as he was told, hugging close to her as she dove under the water. She flew through the water, and Neteyam held steadfast to her reins, easily staying on his mount and cutting through the water.

Ao’nung appeared beside him, bumping into his side with his own Ilu and grinning.

Chase? Ao’nung mouthed, and Neteyam had to force himself to keep his laugh in.

An all too common game amongst Alpha’s and Omega’s, but not one Neteyam was familiar with underwater. It may be more common among courting pairs, but who said two getting to know each other couldn’t play as an attempt to bond? And Neteyam always liked a challenge.

Neteyam clicked, mimicking the sounds Ao’nung had made to call the Ilu, and his mount sped up, moving faster than before and weaving through the coral structures covering the empty space of the reef.

The water rushed past him, the sound setting his nerves on fire and adrenaline coursing through him, heightening his already keen senses.

Neteyam and his Ilu functioned as one, zipping through the waters and past other Metkayina villagers. Neteyam reached the water behind the mangrove trees. He glanced around, searching for the cove where Ao’nung took him for pearls.

He and his Ilu surfaced, finally finding it with ease and booking it for the cove. Instead, Ao’nung tackled him from the back of the Ilu into the water.

They surface, and Neteyam spits water into Ao’nung’s face. The Alpha only laughs with a faint attempt to block the spray of water from hitting his face.

“Looks like I win, Forest Boy,” Ao’nung snickered.

Neteyam rolled his eyes.

“Try that on an Ikran and you’d be dead, Reef Boy,” Neteyam said, watching as Ao’nung circled him like prey.

Even the water, Alpha instinct won over, and Ao’nung circled Neteyam to mark his successful “catch” of a potential mate. Neteyam resisted the urge to tilt his head back and bare his throat in submission. He wouldn’t submit. Not yet.

“Even in the sky, I would still win,” Ao’nung said. His eyes remained planted on the Omega, making him squirm even in the water.

Ao’nung was right in front of him when he finally gained the ability to speak.

“I’ll hold you to it, Reef Boy. An Ikran chase where winner gets whatever they want from the loser,” he whispered, staring up at Metkayina.

“Deal, Neteyam,” Ao’nung whispered back, the slightest edge to his words. A delightful shiver spread from Neteyam’s spine to his toes.

Ao’nung gestured for Neteyam to climb back onto his Ilu, and with some help from Ao’nung, he managed it. Ao’nung climbed back onto his mount, and they rode back to the shallows where everyone else was waiting for them.

“Everyone did great today! Let’s call the day there, and just go have fun and help get everything else ready for dinner tonight!” Tsireya said, joy coloring her every word.

The group seemed content with that, and the girls all left to head into the village.

“Any particular plans, Forest Boy?”

Ao’nung stood beside Neteyam as he spoke, and Neteyam found the gesture endearing. It was a paltry offer of escape if he truly wished to be rid of the silly Reef Boy. Instead, he smiled and turned toward Ao’nung.

“No, not really. Why?” Neteyam stared up, his eyes lidded and voice nearly a purr. What is wrong with me!? What am I even doing?

A growl and hiss from beside Neteyam tipped him off that Lo’ak was not a fan of what was happening.

Lo’ak pulled Neteyam back by the arm, glaring at Ao’nung with his tail flicking and teeth bared.

“Yeah, right, Fishlips. Think again, because my brother isn’t interested in your Skxawng ass,” Lo’ak spat.

He pulled Neteyam with him, and Neteyam glanced back at Ao’nung.

Ao’nung just snorted, mouthing Meet me at the Cove. Neteyam grinned, and followed Lo’ak without struggle or protest.

Chapter Text

Most of the day was spent in relative calm and tedium, completing chores and helping their mother organize their Marui.

Once he had free time, Neteyam sat right by the water outside their door, opening the leather pouch given to him that morning and pulling a few shells and light colored pearls from it.

Kiri plopped beside him, and Neteyam smiled.

“Hey Sis,” he greeted, brushing shoulders with her.

“Hi Big Brother,” she said. She leaned into the physical contact.

Neteyam grabbed one of his carving tools, and slowly ground away a small hole at the broken hinge point of the shells. When he was satisfied at the size of the holes on the shells, he moved his attention to the pearls. He examined them, and then went to digging away in the center of the pearl. Neteyam found that the pearls were much softer than he would have initially thought, so the job went quick.

Neteyam went back into the Marui and dug around in his bag, pulling a set of armbands in dark purple fabric from it and taking back his seat next to Kiri.

He sewed the shells onto the base of the armbands. Once secure, he ran the long bead strands through his fingers, and reaching the unfinished ends. He fed the strings through the holes in the pearls, tying a couple of knots to secure them in place.

He placed the armbands into Kiri’s waiting hands and moved to create more beads out of the pearls.

“These are so beautiful, Teyam.” Neteyam smiled at the nickname, familiar and comforting.

She knew he would never thank her for her compliment. They both did. Not because he didn’t appreciate the compliment, but more because he felt he was unworthy of it. His work was not particularly spectacular. The materials were what made it gorgeous, not his own skills.

The contents of his leather pouch clinked together, and once every pearl and shell had a hole in it, Kiri handed back the armbands.

“Thank you, Sister.” She may have thought her help would go unnoticed, but Neteyam always noticed the little things she did to help. Even within the day, she had watched Tuk, helped Tsireya teach Tuk to ride the Ilu, helped their mother prep their lunch, and cleaned up the Marui while Tuk napped. As small as helping Neteyam add holes to his shells and pearls may have seemed, he knew these acts of service were her way of showing her love and appreciation.

She brushed her cheek against his, and the reaffirmation of their bond eased the tension he didn’t realize existed in his body.

“Anytime, brother.” Kiri smiled and stood, holding out a hand and helping Neteyam to his feet.

He put his project away, safely tucking them into his bag to limit any damage that could be done.

A horn blew, and Kiri led Neteyam to the main Marui. Today, they sat amongst the other teens. Lo’ak and Tsireya had joined them, but Neteyam kept his eyes front and center, all attention directed at Tonowari, Ronal, and Ao’nung. Ao’nung was actually there for dinner, an event that did not go unnoticed.

“He must have finished his necklace,” Tsireya whispered.

Necklace?

Now Neteyam was even more intrigued. What kind of necklace would someone like Ao’nung make for their mate?

Tonowari stood, and the room went silent.

“My people. My son brought us the honor of presenting as an Alpha two years ago.” The Chief paused.

Tonowari waved his son over, and Ao’nung stood and joined him. Ao’nung stood with his head held high. The Chief placed a hand on his son’s shoulder.

“Today marks the day that Ao’nung has finished his Gift of Betrothal and can now select a mate,” Tonowari said. His voice boomed with pride, and the room erupted into noise. Tsireya clapped, a grin spread across her face.

“In about a weeks time we will hold a celebration for our many Omegas to show their dance skills in a traditional fertility dance ceremony.”

Neteyam perked up. Dance?

Everyone went back to their meals, and now Neteyam had a renewed motivation to finish the decorations on his new dancing outfit.

All the teens laughed and ate and teased each other, and Neteyam kept glancing at Ao’nung.

Was he interested? They barely knew each other. But… interest did not mean he had to devote his whole life to the other boy.

Ao’nung stood, speaking to his father and heading towards the exit. He glanced at Neteyam, and he smirked as he exited the room.

The thought was clear.

Follow me.

Neteyam stood without a second thought.

“Where are you going, Brother?”

Kiri’s voice called everyone else to attention, and now he had to think of a lie for all the teens instead of just his siblings when he got back home.

“I have decided to get some more materials. With the dance ceremony coming up I don’t want my outfit too plain yeah?” Neteyam said, but despite putting his true thoughts into words, it still sounded like an excuse, and a poor one at that.

“You will be dancing!? I am so excited to see it!” Tsireya clapped, and several others in the group murmured their agreement.

Kiri nodded.

“Well, Alright. Just be safe.”

Neteyam gave a smile, and took measured, slow steps to leave the Marui. As soon as he was out of sight, Neteyam walked faster.

He made it to the Cove in hardly anytime at all, and Ao’nung was sitting in the sand with a large pile of clams and a basket.

Neteyam plopped down beside the Metkayina boy, who smiled at him.

“Found a way to sneak off I see,” Ao’nung teased. He shucked a clam as he spoke.

“Yeah, and now everyone knows I’ll be dancing at the ceremony because Kiri could not just let me leave,” Neteyam said, no true bitterness at his sister’s inquiry.

“So, the Forest Boy thinks he dance now, eh?” Ao’nung laughed, bumping his shoulder into Neteyam’s.

“Definitely better than you can, Reef Boy,”Neteyam said.

Ao’nung put his hand over his chest.

“I am hurt by your correct assumption.”

Neteyam shook his head as he shucked a clam, careful to not crack the shells away too roughly.

“So, since I have a deal to make good on, how does one get an Ikran?” Ao’nung asked, his hands always busy.

Neteyam blinked before he spoke.

“You climb from the bottom of the floating mountains to the top where they nest. You will then choose one, and they will choose you. Once that happens, you take your bolas to tie their mouth shut, wrestle the ikran, and make tsaheylu. Once tsaheylu is made, you take first flight, and then they are bonded to you for life. You will be the only hunter they will allow to ride them.”

Neteyam remembered his siblings going two different ways with theirs. Kiri, the odd ball she was, was able to bond with hers by simply asking to be friends. Lo’ak struggled so much, he never bonded with the first ikran he chose.

Neteyam, ever the perfectionist, managed it the first time with little struggle. Somehow, that fact bothered him more than anything. He had never failed at anything he tried, not in any sort of meaningful way.

A crease formed in the middle of Ao’nung’s brow.

“Why fight your mount? How do you know if it chooses you?”

Neteyam met Ao’nungs stare. Curiosity.

“They will try to kill you,” Neteyam said.

Ao’nung’s eyes blew wide, then he rested his chin in his hand.

“It’s not as easy as your Ilu, Reef Boy. Even our Palè are more difficult than the Ilu.” Neteyam laughed as he spoke.

Of course Ao’nung thought it would be easy. Why wouldn’t he? He only knew Awa’atlu and the ocean.

“Looks like I have a lot to learn to make good on that promise then,” Ao’nung said. “You will teach me, right Forest Boy?”

Ao’nung glanced at Neteyam from the side, a smirk on his lips.

“Of course. I’d never miss watching you struggle, Skxawng.”

Neteyam snorted, but while he portrayed himself as calm, even amused, something struck him about it all.

Ao’nung would learn something new from and for Neteyam.

But why?

They sat in silence, a comfortable quiet, until Neteyam began to nod off. They had long forgotten the task they had come to do, and Ao’nung took the clam from Neteyam.

“I think it is time for bed, Forest boy,” he said, gentle and calm like the water in the cove.

Neteyam did not argue, sheathing his knife and allowing Ao’nung to lift him from the ground to his feet.

Neteyam swayed, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Ao’nung said nothing, simply placing a hand on Neteyam’s waist and leading him from the cove to his family Marui.

Neteyam’s did not jump from the contact, instead leaning into it. Trusting it.

Not a word was spoken, but nothing had to be said.

Let me take care of you.

And Neteyam did. He let himself be guided to his own bed roll, and only when he was comfortable did Ao’nung sneak away.

Neteyam watched after him, and soon was asleep, hoping to wake at first light.

Chapter Text

Neteyam was up before his mother, an oddity in their family as she seemed to always be awake before her children.

Neteyam got up, collecting his beading and leaving the Marui to sit on the dock. He finished the beading on his armband when his mother sat behind him, undoing his braids and restarting them after combing through the silky strands.

Neteyam sat still and sewed shells along the bottom edge of his armbands. His mother peeked over his shoulder, and Neteyam heard the smile in her voice.

“They are beautiful, Ma Teyam. Your grandfather would be proud of how far you have come.”

A pain shot through Neteyam’s chest.

That was a sore subject in the Sully family. His father was indirectly responsible for the death of his grandfather. Despite his mother having forgiven Jake long ago, it ate his father alive. The guilt was enough to incapacitate his father some days.

“Thank you, Mother.”

Neteyam’s hands flew, and by the time he was finished, so was his mother.

He ran his hands along the fresh braids, noticing the extra beads his mother had added.

The pair went back into their Marui, and Tuk whined for their mother. She obliged the young child, and Neteyam dug through his things and traded his smaller, understated necklace for a larger, more elaborate one. The red and black beads contrasted with his skin just right, and so he secured it in place.

Whether he was to be thought of in the same breath as the other Omegas in the village or not, he had to play the part of the dutiful and attractive Omega all the same. His own thoughts on it didn’t matter. It was another social expectation of him, and he would conform as the perfect son. He knew his place well. That would not change among a different clan.

Everyone got ready for their day, and once all his siblings were awake and ready, he led them to the beach with his head held high.

Several other Omegas within his age group now wore extravagant dresses of woven materials, giving each one the appearance of ocean waves in the sun. Neteyam wished he had known more about the cultural expectations of Metkayina Omegas, but alas, he was stuck being the only Omatikaya in the village.

Eyes followed him far more than he cared to acknowledge, and once he and his siblings reached the beach, he sat with Tuk as Lo’ak went diving, no doubt in search of the clams filled with precious pearls.

Kiri sat with him and Tuk, and together the older two braided her hair again. Just as the pair completed their final braids, Tuk ran into the water and clicked for an Ilu pony, desperate to put as much space between her and her siblings as possible.

Neteyam watched after the youngest Sully, and Kiri’s voice interrupted the quiet of waves crashing against the shore.

“Where were you last night?”

Neteyam winced. His disappearance had not gone unnoticed.

“What do you mean? I went to collect pearls and shells.”

Kiri looked at him, her brow furrowed.

“Do not lie, Neteyam. You came back late, and smelling like an Alpha, so where did you go?”

Neteyam threw his hands up, and Kiri crossed her arms over her chest.

“I’m not lying, I’m just…. Not giving you the full story,” Neteyam confessed.

“Who were you with?” Kiri pressed, tapping her finger against her arm.

“Ao’nung,” He said.

A shiver ran down Neteyam’s spine just saying the name.

Kiri’s face softened, and she blinked at him, her body visibly relaxing.

“Ao’nung?” Kiri’s voice peaked, and he hated the smile he heard in her voice.

“Yes, now can we stop talking about it?” Neteyam bristled, hating how confused he felt over it all.

Neteyam shouldn’t have felt confused, but he did. He barely knew this boy, but he wanted to be around him as much as he could.

Kiri hummed and nodded.

“Alright, Brother. Just let me know if I need to start covering for you more,” Kiri said, and she turned back to the village the Metkayina kids all arrived.

“Good morning!” Tsireya called, waving out to the open water.

Tuk and Lo’ak were back on shore within minutes.

Ao’nung stared at Neteyam, and Neteyam tried not to squirm.

“That a new necklace?,” Ao’nung asked.

Neteyam nodded, unable to trust his voice.

Ao’nung hummed, paying it no more attention vocally, but the boy’s expression paired with him continuing to stare at Neteyam’s neck made it abundantly clear he liked it.

Lo’ak looked between the two, and growled at Ao’nung.

“Not one of yours that you can just look at however you want, bastard. Keep your eyes to yourself, or I’ll make you,” Lo’ak spat, shoving Ao’nung by the shoulder.

Neteyam rolled his eyes. Ridiculous.

“Lo’ak don’t worry about it. He’s just being nice, Lil Bro,” Neteyam scolded, brushing sand off himself as he stood.

“Anyway, what are we doing today?” Neteyam asked. He needed to distract everyone from the way Ao’nung was staring before Lo’ak decided to make good on his promise and use his fists to solve it.

Tsireya clapped.

“I’m so glad you ask. Today, we will be teaching you some hand signs we use in the water,” she said.

“Come, we will go to the same rock we taught you all to breathe!”

Tsireya led the way, and Lo’ak stood right behind her, dutiful in his watch over her.

Neteyam rolled his eyes, and took up the rear, with Ao’nung right behind him.

Alpha instinct demanded a level of protectiveness, and Ao’nung seemed hard-wired to it. His hand hovered behind Neteyam, as if pushing at the air would guide the Omega where the Alpha wanted him to go.

They sat in their circle from the first day, and Tsireya talked of the importance of hand signs and learning them quickly.

“I encourage you to use them in place of or in accompaniment of actual speech to get them down as quickly as possible.”

She demonstrated a few, and everyone else copied.

The lesson was quick, painless, and monotonous beyond belief.

Tsireya smiled and spoke.

“Good job everyone.”

Ao’nung rolled his eyes.

“I am bored of just lessons. Tell us more about yourselves,” the alpha cut in.

His eyes were planted on Neteyam.

“Like what, Fishlips? What else could you want to know about us?” Lo’ak snapped.

Kiri giggled, and all eyes went to her.

“Well, Ao’nung just finished his betrothal gift. Do we want to compare courting?”

Ao’nung blinked, and Lo’ak lit up. Neteyam’s glared at his sister, knowing exactly why she mentioned that as a topic of conversation, but all she did was shrug. 

“Yeah! Sis has the right idea!” Lo’ak said. His enthusiasm now ramped up, everyone nodded, mumbling agreement.

“What do you guys do for courting then? You will get to see it for us,” Ao’nung said.

“Well, it’s not exactly… traditional for us. Our father isn’t born Na’vi, so he has some rather human ideas he brought to our mother,” Neteyam blurted.

“Like what?” Tsireya asked, head tilted.

“Like kissing,” Lo’ak blurted, and everyone laughed.

“But, everyone knows kissing,” Tsireya giggled.

It was true. Kissing wasn’t a foreign concept to the Na’vi, but the frequency of human pairs kissing was foreign.

“Our father kisses our mother just because. Kissing is its own thing and isn’t isolated to just mating,” Neteyam explained, and earned several gasps and wide-eyed stares.

“How very odd,” Rotxo said, scratching his head.

Ao’nung stared at Neteyam, eyes dropping to his lips for several seconds before shooting back to his eyes.

Neteyam’s face grew hot, and his stomach leapt to his throat.

Don’t look at me like that.

Lo’ak didn’t pay attention, but Kiri rolled her eyes.

“Lots of things are different, I suppose, but we won’t know how different until we see it with Ao’nung,” Kiri stated flatly.

Tsireya's eyes darted to Lo’ak, and Neteyam held in a snort. Obvious.

“I am excited to see Neteyam’s dance for the fertility ceremony,” Tsireya said, and now everyone was looking at Neteyam again.

Ao’nung’s eyes darted to Neteyam, yet he said nothing.

“I am not sure how it will be received. I’m sure our dances differ vastly from yours,” Neteyam said, worrying his necklace.

“I’m sure it will be great!” Tsireya’s certainty and encouragement only helped a little.

The conversation steered away from personal relations, and everyone compared foods and animals until the dinner conch rang out.

The group walked back to the village as they had walked to the rock, and Neteyam tried to ignore the hand hovering at his hip.

He had noticed him, and now he couldn’t stop. Ao’nung smelt nice, his body was much larger and heavily muscled in comparison to Neteyam’s, and it all drove Neteyam mad.

How was he supposed to focus on anything important?

They entered the main Marui, and Neteyam wanted to slap himself for hating the way Ao’nung pulled away from him as they entered.

Everyone sat with their respective families, and the night went without a single thing out of place.

And Neteyam wanted to scream.

Chapter Text

Once dinner was done, everyone went to their Marui’s and settled in for the night.

Neteyam laid on his bedroll, staring at the ceiling as every member of his family fell into restful sleep.

Restless, he tossed and turned until he just couldn’t take it anymore.

Even just a few days in one area of the large village had Neteyam pulling at his hair. He needed the open forest air around him, soil between his toes, and his bow in hand.

Things would make sense in the forest.

So, with his family asleep, Neteyam snuck from his bedding across the Marui, removing his bow from the bow stand with as little noise as possible, then used his stealth to leave the Marui and make a clean break for the forest behind the village.

Sand morphed into dirt, and while the trees were still mangroves, the animal noises grew more familiar with each careful step.

Neteyam got low to the ground, sneaking through the shrubbery with the practice and skill only a seasoned hunter could possess.

A twig snapped behind him, and his ears swiveled to track it better.

He nocked an arrow. Did Thanator live this close to the water?

Neteyam spun, and his eyes blew wide as his arrow was directly in Ao’nung’s face. The boy stood with his hands up and eyes locked onto the arrow tip pointed at him.

“Skxawang, the fuck are you doing out here, Ao’nung?” Neteyam said, standing and lowering his bow. “I could have killed you!”

Ao’nung tilted his head, then laughed.

“I just watched you sneak away from the village with a weapon, and you think I’m not going to follow you?” Ao’nung asked, incredulous.

Neteyam pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. He should have accounted for others if he truly wished to be alone in the woods. Ao’nung stepped forward and lifted the bow up with just the tip of his finger.

“Now, what are we doing out in the middle of the woods with a bow in the middle of the night?”

Neteyam stared up at the Alpha, weighing his options before giving in to his own instinct to give an answer.

“I was feeling rather… cooped up. I was going to go crazy spending one more day just in that village and the water when there is so much more.”

Ao’nung laughed.

“And you needed a bow for that?”

Neteyam noted the way Ao’nung slowly circled him and snorted. Even following him to the woods was a chase for the Alpha, and his instincts were far stronger and ingrained than Ao’nung was even aware of.

Neteyam stood in the middle of Ao’nung’s scent circle, eyes following the Alpha’s movement as he spoke.

“I am a hunter, Ao’nung. I am used to being a slight bit more useful than I have been the past few days,” Neteyam stated.

Ao’nung approached with a nod, then placed a hand on the small of Neteyam’s back and pushed. Neteyam blinked up at Ao’nung.

“Let’s go then. Show me how a forest boy hunts,” Ao’nung said.

“I cannot simply show you,” Neteyam scoffed. “You have to see the forest exactly the way you see the ocean,” Neteyam shot back, despite the fact that he moved forward.

“Then show me how to see,” Ao’nung said. Neteyam snorted.

“I cannot show you how to see, Reef Boy.”

Despite his feeble protests, Neteyam crouched, signaling for Ao’nung to copy him. They took two steps before Neteyam reached back and smacked the Metkayina on the leg.

“Hey! What was that for?” Ao’nung rubbed his leg.

“Quiet, Skxawng. You will scare the animals away if you keep lumbering about and yelling like a Prolemuris,” Netyam said, voice hushed and clipped.

Ao’nung rolled his eyes, but dutifully followed instructions. They took a few more steps, and Neteyam was content with the lack of noise coming from behind him.

Neteyam watched the forest floor, looking for Hexapede tracks. His patience was rewarded with exactly what he was searching for. Neteyam put a hand up, and then pointed at the tracks. He moved on with little preamble. Ao’nung would figure it out, or he wouldn’t.

They followed the tracks for some time before losing them. Neteyam scanned the ground until a clicking caught his attention. He whipped his head toward Ao’nung, who was pointing at tracks on the ground.

Neteyam snuck past him, patting his shoulder on his way past in silent congratulation of his observation skills.

After a few more minutes of following tracks, a small herd of Hexapedes came into view, scrounging the forest floor for what little food they could find. Neteyam readied his bow, pulling back, ready to loose an arrow.

Yips sounded, and Neteyam glanced up at the surrounding trees. He did not wish to fight viper wolves for food, not when the hunt was a force of habit and unnecessary in the long run.

He waved for Ao’nung to follow him, finding the familiar trees of his jungle peppering the mangrove forest now that the pair ventured further into the forest.

Neteyam climbed the tree with ease, and Ao’nung, while clumsy in comparison, still made it up the tree far easier than Neteyam would have thought him capable of with his enormous frame.

Neteyam stood crouched on the branch, and a rather large pack of viper wolves swarmed the Hexapede herd. Both groups of animals scattered, and the yips grew quiet within seconds. Neteyam watched as Ao’nung opened his mouth, and the Omega clapped a hand over his mouth.

Blue eyes bore into him, lidded and soft in their attention. Neteyam met those eyes with his own for just a second before averting his gaze and removing his hand from Ao’nung’s mouth.

“We should be safe to head back now,” he whispered. He needed off this tree branch. He needed space between them. This was too much, and somehow, not enough all at once.

“Alright,” Ao’nung whispered back, dropping from the tree first. Neteyam took a steadying breath, then dropped from the tree beside the Alpha.

Neteyam did not bother remaining quiet, hoping to scare away most of the wildlife away by being loud in comparison to the rest of the forest.

Each step was tense, and Neteyam could feel Ao’nung’s eyes on him, watching even his smallest movements, and Neteyam’s head was full of contradictions.

Don’t look at me.

Neteyam glanced back at Ao’nung, making sure he was following. Ao’nung stared down at him, closer than necessary for a simple hunting lesson or for following a guide. His eyes roamed Neteyam’s soul the same way they had in the tree.

Look at me alone.

Neteyam turned and focused on his task of guiding them back home, following the trail he and Ao’nung had left when they had entered the mangrove forest to begin with.

Silence followed the pair as they took far longer than needed to traverse the beach back to the maruis of the village. Ao’nung’s hand hovered over Neteyam’s skin, ghosting the planes of his lower back and hip as they carefully stepped through the woven walkways of the village towards his family’s marui.

The dock came into view, and Neteyam turned back towards Ao’nung, meeting those bright blue eyes for the first time since they had left the forest.

“Thank you,” Neteyam whispered.

Ao’nung opened his mouth, and Neteyam pressed his fingertips to Ao’nung’s lips.

“Go to bed, Skxawng,” Neteyam said, keeping his voice low as a smile crept to his lips.

Ao’nung smiled against Neteyam’s fingers, and heat crawled from his fingers, up his arm and neck to his face, settling in his cheeks. Ao’nung pulled away.

“Goodnight, Neteyam,” Ao’nung whispered.

The Alpha back stepped, then turned and snuck his way back through the village, and Neteyam watched until he could no longer see the other boy.

Neteyam hesitated, then snuck his bow back onto the rack and himself back into his bed. he closed his eyes, and blue eyes and the smell of the forest lulled him to sleep.

Chapter Text

Neteyam awoke with a slight bit more energy and a lot of nerves.

The previous night came back to Neteyam almost as soon as he sat up.

His nerves never settled. They bubbled under the surface, itching to be released, and the memory of Ao’nung and him galavanting about the forest did not help.

The morning progressed as so many others — getting his siblings up with his mother, eating breakfast, and heading out the door to attend to his duties with his siblings.

Neteyam found himself face first with someone else’s chest. Lo’ak hissed, and Neteyam backed up before seeing Ao’nung staring down at him, stunned with his hand ready to catch Neteyam at the slightest bit of movement that hinted that the Omega might fall over.

“Good Morning,” Neteyam said, blinking up at the Alpha.

Ao’nung opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Lo’ak was already talking as he stepped forward to create a barrier between Neteyam and Ao’nung.

“No, not ‘Good Morning’! What the actual hell is he doing here this early?”

Lo’ak gestured toward the other Alpha wildly with his hands, and Neteyam rolled his eyes, paying his brother no mind and pushing the Alpha out his way to step closer to Ao’nung.

“What are you doing here?” Neteyam asked, head tilted.

Lo’ak scoffed, and Neteyam ignored him.

“My mother has requested I collect you. She wishes to speak with you, seeing as you are an Omega of age within our village,” Ao’nung said, eyes focused on Neteyam.

Neteyam’s skin crawled. The Tsahik wanted him?

“Alright,” He said, his voice portraying none of the nerves that existed.

He set his jaw, straightened his back, and followed Ao’nung with no protest as to where he was being led.

The pair stepped past the early morning crowd on the walkways, ignoring the sideways glances of everyone. Once they reached the Tsahik’s marui, Ao’nung held the beaded curtains open to allow Neteyam in.

Neteyam stepped in, and Ao’nung followed, hand hovering over Neteyam’s hip. Neteyam fought the urge to lean into that touch as the Tsahik turned her calculating gaze to him.

“Sit,” she commanded, and both boys did as told.

Neteyam’s heartbeat hammered in his ears. Had he done something wrong? What could he have done to displease the Tsahik after only a few days? 

“Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan of the Omatikaya, You are an Omega of age, yes?” Ronal’s voice was steady and cold. There was no room in the life of a Tsahik to be indirect.

“Yes, Tsahik,” Neteyam replied, calm despite his shaking hands. He clenched his hands into fists in his lap, sitting up straighter as she observed him.

She collected a handful of powder, blowing it Neteyam’s face. Neteyam inhaled, coughing a bit as the powder dissipated. The Tsahik crouched, grabbing Neteyam’s face and turning it in every way she deemed necessary. She stood and scoffed, tail flicking back and forth.

Ronal stared Neteyam down like teylu on a leaf. Small and insignificant. Neteyam gulped.

“Ao’nung will teach you of our ways when it comes to courting and mating rituals among the Metkayina. For his betrothal announcement, you will be given full standing as Metkayina. Now, leave,” She said flatly, shooing both boys away as she turned back to her herbs.

Neteyam bowed, forehead pressed to the floor.

“Thank you, Tsahik,” Neteyam said, his voice still steady.

He collected himself and stood as quick as he could, rushing from the Tsahik’s Marui with Ao’nung behind him. They did not stop until they hit sand.

Neteyam wanted to throw up all over the sand beneath his feet. No one, not even Quaritch, made Neteyam as nervous as the Tsahik of the Metkayina.

Ao’nung broke the silence with a chuckle.

“Well, that could have gone much worse,” he said.

“I have no clue how that could have gone any worse.”

Ao’nung snorted, and Neteyam shot him a glare.

“How are you not terrified of her?” Neteyam asked, glancing at the Alpha.

Ao’nung took a moment fidgeting with his necklace before he spoke.

“I am, but she is also my mother, so I know how she is.”

Neteyam had heard rumor of many viewing his mother as some war goddess, someone to be feared and respected, whether or not one viewed the stories of her victories to be true, so he supposed he could understand the logic.

Neteyam glanced at the Alpha in front of him, huffing.

“Well, Reef Boy, looks like we have our work cut out for us, so we should get started.”

Neteyam crossed his arms, cocking his hip and tilting his head at Ao’nung. Ao’nung stared back, shoulders sagged and body completely relaxed.

“I’ll explain, but I will not give away all rituals,” Ao’nung said with a smirk.

Unbelievable.

Neteyam let his tail flick and wag freely. What did Ao’nung take him for? Some hooligan who wanted to break the rules?

He went to open his mouth, to say as much and give the carefree Alpha a piece of his mind, and then the boy grabbed his hand with a laugh and dragged him through trees and rocky shorelines to a series of terraced tide pools filled with bright blue water and creatures of varying size, shape, and speeds.

Ao’nung let go of Neteyam’s hand to balance along the rock walls of the tide pools, barely using his arms to adjust his body’s center of gravity to keep himself on the thin rock ledge. Neteyam followed, succeeding in keeping up with Ao’nung, more or less.

“You know the most important aspects of our traditions, so I wouldn’t worry too much,” Ao’nung called back, and Neteyam scoffed.

“Yes, I’m so aware that the Tsahik thought it best to dictate the suitor of those traditions to educate me on them,” Neteyam blurted as he stared into a tide pool.

Ao’nung laughed.

“She doubts you, Forest Boy. She is not… charitable to outsiders being able to be observant.”

Netyam blinked, glancing at the back of Ao’nung’s head as the other continued to walk along the rock ledge of the tide pools.

Neteyam knew himself to be observant, but being observant enough to learn a whole different culture from his on the fly purely through that observation was a long shot.

So why did this small hint of confidence from Ao’nung give him butterflies and make the storm of anxiety swirling in his head slow?

Ao’nung and Neteyam walked the wall in comfortable silence. The warm water of the tide pools lapped at their feet.

A nagging thought in Neteyam’s brain had him speaking.

”Why do you refuse to elaborate on the rituals and customs, hm?”

Neteyam sounded far more smug than he had intended, but the way Ao’nung’s shoulders tensed kept his mouth moving.

”You afraid I’ll go woo some other Metkayina Alpha with what you teach me?” 

The Omega held both arms straight out to his sides, balancing on the balls of his feet on a particularly thin portion of the ledge. 

“You’ll learn soon enough, and the rituals don’t matter for you anyway do they?” Ao’nung’s voice was… apprehensive.  

Neteyam stared at the back of Ao’nung’s head. Did he care at all? 

No. Neteyam’s couldn’t care less about the rituals and the proper ways of doing anything. He was born from improper, from rebellious practices born from love, and Neteyam would hate being proper after having grown in a family so far from it. 

What level of conformity could he truly find as an outsider to the Metkayina if he had a mate from the ocean clan for himself? He would always be viewed as odd and different and not quite right.

”The only thing I care for is for Eywa to bless my mating as she did my parents. Other than that, how could I ask for anything more?” 

Ao’nung’s shoulders relaxed, and suddenly, he was walking the wall in silence again with Neteyam’s on his heels. 

Only when the conch blew signaling dinner did they begin to make their way back to the village maruis.

When they no longer needed to balance along the tide pool walls, Ao’nung held out his hand, and Neteyam hesitated before grabbing it and following the Alpha leisurely through rocks and under brush back to where the rest of the village was already laughing and eating.

They reached the sandy beach before Ao’nung disturbed their silent existence.

“Meet me in the forest again tonight.”

“What?” Neteyam’s voice sounded foreign to him in its surprise. He blinked at the back of Ao’nung’s head.

Ao’nung turned, keeping their hands clasped together as he spoke.

“I want to show you something. I need you to meet me in forest again, after everyone is asleep.”

Ao’nung stared at him, digging with his eyes the way he had the previous night in the forest, up in the tree with Neteyam’s hand over his mouth —

“Alright,” Neteyam said.

Did he ever have a choice when Ao’nung looked at him in a way that had him believing, even if just for a second, that he was wanted in a way so different from everyone else in his life? Like he was the only thing so important and precious in the Alpha’s life?

Ao’nung smiled, then slowly let Neteyam’s hand drop from his.

And when they walked into the main Marui for dinner, Neteyam ignored the other teens staring at him, instead staring at his hand that Ao’nung had held.

He swallowed down the part of him that wished he was still holding Ao’nung’s hand with his dinner.

Chapter Text

Dinner left Neteyam on edge.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and every time he turned, he found Ao’nung’s eyes lingering, almost as if to make sure Neteyam could confirm without a doubt whose gaze Neteyam could feel on him throughout the whole meal.

At the end of the meal, everyone funneled from the main marui to their individual ones, and Neteyam caught Ao’nung’s gaze once again.

The Alpha’s eyes spoke the words he had said just hours earlier during their unsupervised trip back from the tide pools.

Meet me in the forest again tonight.

Neteyam dutifully followed his family to their marui, and assisted his parents in getting Tuk to bed. His family laid on their bed rolls, and Neteyam waited until the fitful snoring of his family filled their marui.

He ditched his sleeping spot and slipped from the marui as quickly as could be managed without rousing any of his family.

Neteyam ran to the woods as fast he could, abandoning any chance to collect a more effective weapon, leaving him with his knife and his faith in Eywa’s protection.

Ao’nung was waiting for him. Why would he waste time to bring more stuff?

The roots and small plants of the forest floor lit up underneath his nimble feet, and Neteyam pushed himself faster as he caught a hint of Ao’nung’s earthy, sea salt scent.

His senses were on fire. Every sound amplified, every smell intensified tenfold, and Neteyam could feel the shift of the air as he passed from the oceanside woods to his jungle biome.

Ao’nung had ventured farther than the previous night. Neteyam balanced along the branches and roots of trees more familiar to him with ease.

Neteyam felt at home. It had only been days, yet it had felt like weeks, months, even years. He missed the jungle more than he could ever say to anyone, and it was a homesickness so deep and gnawing that if he thought too hard on it, he would wallow in it until there was nothing left of him.

A twig snapped, and then the air rushed past his ears as something slammed into him. Neteyam was pinned and panting before he ever looked up.

Ao’nung stared down at him, short of breath with his hands planted on either side of the Omega’s head, caging Neteyam in and pinning him to the forest floor and surrounding him in the scent of sea salt that had brought him this deep into the forest in the first place.

And Neteyam stared back.

Ao’nung’s hair hung loose, save for the braid protecting his neural queue. The curls framed the Alpha’s face, and Neteyam reached up and touched them before he could think better of it.

Ao’nung nuzzled into Neteyam’s hand, purring and burying his nose into the palm of Neteyam’s hand before taking a long, loud sniff.

Neteyam’s face heated, breath caught in his throat. Scenting another in such a way was intimate, and far more intimate than what their games of chase would ever suggest.

But, as quick as he was there, Ao’nung was gone and helping Neteyam to his feet.

“Follow me,” Ao’nung said, hand in hand with Neteyam, dragging the Omega through the forest.

Neteyam squeezed Ao’nung’s hand and followed, giggling as the Alpha tripped on twigs and branches and small roots that tangled around his toes.

“Looks like we don’t have to worry about viper wolves tonight,” Neteyam said, snorting as Ao’nung tripped over another branch.

Ao’nung glanced back, blowing air up in an effort to get the hair out of his eyes.

“How do you mean?”

Ao’nung’s crooked grin and him blowing his hair out of his face sent Neteyam into a fit of giggles.

“You are scaring away all the animals, Reef Boy,” Netayam said, reaching forward and brushing the loose hair away from Ao’nung’s face.

“Means I get you all to myself then,” Ao’nung replied.

Neteyam blinked. The thought that Ao’nung’s may want him alone had never crossed his mind before. It left him speechless.

He gripped Neteyam’s hand harder and dragged the Omega further into the forest, pushing aside vines and hanging leaves. After a few minutes of walking, Ao’nung led Neteyam into a clearing with a bioluminescent tree, its pink vines hanging down and brushing against the ground.

Neteyam rushed to the tree, gathering a few of the tendrils together and connecting to it. He closed his eyes, and the whispers of long dead Na’vi filtered into his ears.

“I found it right after I presented. I just…” Ao’nung paused.

Neteyam opened his eyes, staring at the Alpha. Ao’nung gathered a few of the vines together in his hands, staring at them as he ever so carefully rubbed them between his fingers.

“I didn’t think I’d find someone who would enjoy it as much as I did.”

Neteyam disconnected from the tree, approaching Ao’nung like a wounded animal. He cupped Ao’nung’s hand holding the tree’s vines in his as best he could. It was a small gesture, but it was all Neteyam could think to give as comfort in that moment.

Ao’nung turned his gaze towards Neteyam, gentle and digging into him in a way those eyes had no right to. Neteyam tore his gaze away, looking up towards the tree’s top.

“This tree… it feels like home in a way I cannot even begin to describe.” Neteyam squeezed Ao’nung’s hand with his as he spoke.

“Once everything is said and done, I will remember this for the rest of my life and once I return to Eywa,” Neteyam said, reconnecting to the tree.

Neteyam hesitated, than reached for Ao’nung’s braid, connecting him to the same portion of the vines Neteyam was attached to.

It was a risk. Such an act was profoundly intimate, with Neteyam having witnessed his grandmother doing it for others regularly, and his parents bonding each other to the Tree of Souls once in his whole life.

But Ao’nung smiled, wide and bright and so full of warmth it was infectious, washing away all the doubt Neteyam could ever feel.

Ao’nung’s fingers grazed his braids, and the air left Neteyam’s lungs. The Alpha’s willingness to touch him would never not be foreign to him.

“You should take your hair down,” Ao’nung said.

“I can’t do that,” Neteyam replied, immediate and sharp.

Ao’nung snorted, his smile never slipping.

“Why not? It’s just hair,” the Alpha retorted.

“We wear our braids to protect our hair, and more than that, we do not remove the braids in our clan unless we are to mate. It’s sacred and reserved for mating and fertility purposes.”

Neteyam’s words came out in a rush, and he closed his eyes, holding the vines of the tree like a lifeline.

He may not care of traditions entirely, but he also could not spat on the sacred rights of passage that existed either.

Ao’nung wrapped his hands around Neteyam’s one, and Neteyam opened his eyes to stare at Ao’nung’s face.

“If it is something important to you, I will not ask again. I did not realize it was such a special experience,” Ao’nung said, each word spoken slow and with precision, his tone and expression serious.

Neteyam hummed, nodding as he disconnected from the tree, taking a few steps back from Ao’nung.

Ao’nung disconnected, his movements slow and measured. He laughed.

“We must look rather improper with our hair basically loose all the time then.”

Neteyam laughed, shaking his head.

“No. It suits you,” Neteyam said.

Ao’nung’s smile came back full force, and Neteyam giggled.

Neteyam pointed at the ground in front of him.

“Come and sit. I will braid your hair,” Neteyam said.

Ao’nung lit up, clamoring to sit at Neteyam’s feet. Neteyam separated the hair, and began to braid the hair tightly to the Alpha’s scalp.

Ao’nung turned to mush in Neteyam's hands — completely relaxed and even purring as the Omega continued to braid his hair. Neteyam reached roughly the half way point of Ao’nung’s scalp before tying off each braid.

Neteyam’s was aware the Metkayina only braided their hair down to keep it out of their face in the water. Neteyam thought of braiding his hair to match the style, but something always stopped him time and time again.

Neteyam smoothed over the braids, satisfied with his work, and tied up the rest of Ao’nung’s hair in its usual bun with a leather tie. The tie had red and yellow beads that hid in the curly confines of the Alpha’s hair, but Neteyam knew they were there, and that was enough.

“Well, I guess this is my reward for catching you twice now,” Ao’nung’s said, running a hand over the braids.

“Oh? You think you need a reward for that?” Neteyam scoffed.

“No, but a reward is appreciated,” Ao’nung replied.

Neteyam stepped around Ao’nung, circling him like prey.

“What would you want for succeeding in catching me in a game of chase, hm?” Neteyam’s voice was thick as honey.

What would someone like Ao’nung an Alpha and the son of a Chief, want in a game like this?

Ao’nung’s eyes followed Neteyam as he stalked around Ao’nung.

“What are my limitations? Can I have anything I could want?”

Neteyam’s knees nearly buckled at the thought. If given no limits, what would Ao’nung ask him for?

What would Neteyam be willing to give?

“Whatever you want. Name it,” Neteyam said.

His hands shook the slightest bit as Ao’nung’s eyes blew wide.

“If you could, during the dance ceremony, I’d…” Ao’nung paused.

The Alpha closed his eyes, took a deep a steadying breath, and spoke.

“Wear your hair down during your dance, but only if you want to.”

Neteyam stared at Ao’nung. His blue eyes shone like the Tahni that dotted the Alpha’s skin.

Ao’nung took a step closer, and Neteyam froze, still as a tree.

Such a small request. It was even mindful in the way Ao’nung asked for it to be during a ceremony celebrating fertility and Neteyam’s own comfortability.

Neteyam grinned, taking a quick step back.

“You’ll have to catch me first!”

Neteyam laughed as he ran, jumping from tree root to tree root.

His feet propelled him faster than he thought possible, and Neteyam used the adrenaline in his veins to his advantage.

The Omega ran his hands along any vegetation within reach, and even took detours into the underbrush before redirecting course to get himself back on track.

The trees became mangroves, Neteyam could smell salt and water and felt the shift of the air once again before a twig snapped.

Thudding footsteps gained on him, and Neteyam pushed harder.

He was almost there, almost back to the village, if he could just —

A hand wrapped around his bicep, and he spun until he was face to face with Ao’nung.

Both were out of breath, gulping down air while chest to chest.

Neteyam gingerly placed a hand on Ao’nung’s chest, and Ao’nung held Neteyam to him like he was afraid the Omega would run if he let go for even a second.

Once they had caught their breath, Ao’nung laughed, pressing his forehead to Neteyam’s.

“Looks like I won again, Forest Boy.”

Ao’nung’s finally relented, letting go of Neteyam who could only gape up at the other boy.

Ao’nung laced his fingers with Neteyam’s, taking his hand and pulling him towards the village.

Their walk through the village to Neteyam’s marui was far too quick for Neteyam’s liking. He squeezed the Alpha’s hand, and Ao’nung squeezed back, leading him towards the Marui step by step.

They stood at the entrance, and Neteyam’s feet refused to move.

Then, Ao’nung tipped Neteyam’s head up by his chin using his thumb and forefinger, and Neteyam’s breath caught in throat as his heart hammered in his chest.

“I look forward to seeing your hair down,” Ao’nung whispered, and then he was gone, stepping out of Neteyam’s space and letting go of the Omega. The Alpha left Neteyam standing in the entryway to his families marui.

Ao’nung’s departure did nothing for Neteyam’s nerves and goosebumps, but he snuck back into the Marui onto his bed roll and stared at the ceiling until sleep took him.

Chapter Text

Neteyam sat on the shore of the beach, stringing together pearls from his pouch in an alternating pattern of pale pink and yellow.

Now that his boring morning routine was complete, the events of the prior night bounced around in Neteyam’s head.

There was no reason he should have not wanted to leave Ao’nung’s side, yet he almost followed the Alpha instead of going to his own bedroll.

Neteyam huffed as a pearl refused to go on the string.

He was just being a ridiculous and clingy Omega.

Neteyam’s continued his beading until shouting distracted him.

His ear swiveled first, tracking the noise through the underbrush directly to Neteyam’s left.

He abandoned his pearl string on his poncho, rising from the sand and rushing through the foliage hiding the source of the noise.

Once he emerged from the plant wall, he saw a group of boys surrounding Kiri and Lo’ak.

Ao’nung stood in front of Kiri, his ears back and eyes darting around as the other boys continued to poke and prod at the girl.

Lo’ak shoved a boy back, but all that did was cause an uproar of laughter.

“Leave us alone!” Kiri yelled, tail flicking.

Neteyam came out from behind Kiri and clamped his hand on Ao’nung’s arm, spinning him around to face Neteyam.

”You heard her. Leave them alone,” Neteyam said as he pushed his finger into Ao’nung’s chest.

”Back off. Now.” He could not have hid the bite in his words if he had tried. The hurt was evident. How dare Ao’nung treat his family this way?

Ao’nung put up his palms and stepped back, eyes never leaving Neteyam’s face.

”Smart choice. And from now on, I need you to respect my sister.” Neteyam said.

He locked eyes with every person there, only satisfied when they all backed up behind Ao’nung.

He turned to his siblings.

“Let’s go...”

He placed his hand between Kiri’s shoulder blades to push her forward. Lo’ak was on Neteyam’s heels.

Kiri and Neteyam took a few steps away before Lo’ak turned back to the group of boys.

“You think this hand’s funny? I mean c’mon, look at it.” Lo’ak wiggled his pinkie.

A few of the boys laughed, and Ao’nung pinned his ears back as he kept his facial expression neutral.

“Let me show you something cool it can do.”

Lo’ak stuck his hand up, and Neteyam’s stomach dropped. Ao’nung’s eyes darted to Neteyam, who shook his head.

He needed to move before Lo’ak did something stupid, but his feet were rooted in the sand like a tree.

“First you ball it up real tight like this, then —“

Lo’ak carefully balled up his fist, and Ao’nung and the others paid attention in awe. Lo’ak reeled back and launched his fist into Ao’nung’s face.

”It’s called a PUNCH, bitch!” Lo’ak said with a smirk.

Lo'ak followed with a hard cross and uppercut combo, sending Ao’nung tumbling into the sand. There was a moment of stunned quiet.

Here we go, Neteyam thought with a wince.

Ao’nung leapt up, and tackled Lo’ak to the ground. The other Reef kids jumped in, dog-piling Lo’ak in blur of motion. Knees, elbows, and feet flew.

Neteyam took a split second to ponder his options, and he jumped in despite Kiri’s protests.

The Omega stuck his arm into the pile, shoving and separating the reef kids from his brother. An errant elbow whacked him on the chin.

Neteyam grabbed the owner of that elbow with a snarl and threw them over his head, pinning them to the ground with their arm twisted behind their back. One of the random boys from Ao’nung’s group.

Several others focused on Neteyam, coming at him from all directions as Lo’ak and Ao’nung flailed around on the ground together in a piss-poor attempt at establishing dominance between the two.

Neteyam shook his head and rolled as one boy dove at him, but another had managed to tackle him before he could evade again.

Neteyam gnashed his teeth, snarling and hissing as he thrashed underneath the person who was then joined by several others in holding Neteyam down.

Neteyam moved to put his foot in the chest of the main boy on top of him, but hands gripped his legs tighter at the slightest hint of movement.

Neteyam’s breath came in rapid bursts, never quite staying in his lungs long enough to supply his brain with enough air to logic a way out of this predicament.

Neteyam continued to thrash, desperately attempting to throw the reef kids off of him. He needed a way out, and he needed it now.

Then, the boy yelped as he was ripped off of Neteyam and out of his view.

Lo’ak hoisted Neteyam up from the ground as the other boys scattered from around the Omega.

Neteyam’s eyes snapped to Ao’nung.

The Alpha snarled at the entire group of reef kids, each of them tipping their heads back, faces contorted into matching grimaces.

Ao’nung’s tail flicked from side to side, and he did not say a word, his anger reducing him to growling.

Lo’ak snapped Neteyam’s attention away from the scene, dragging Neteyam by the arm toward the village, and Neteyam tore his arm away right as they were within sight of people.

“Why are you dragging me away from the fight you started?” Neteyam snapped, glaring at his brother.

The Alpha rolled his eyes.

“If I hadn’t been there, those assholes would still have you pinned in the sand!”

“If you had not been there the fight would have never started,” Neteyam shouted.

Neteyam’s blood ran cold as his eyes landed on the crowd in front of him, the crowd parting for his father. Neteyam ducked his head as his father stared them down. 

“You two, home. Now,” his father said, his words short and tone cold.

Lo’ak and Neteyam exchanged looks before marching through the village to their marui. Their father remained close behind.

“What was the one thing I asked? The one thing!?” Jake finally raised his voice as they reached the solitude of their home.

Lo’ak and Neteyam stood in front of Jake, bruised and bloody.

“Stay out of trouble,” Lo’ak said, staring down at his hands.

“It was my fault.”

Neteyam would rather lie than continue to watch his father berate Lo’ak. Unfortunately, their fatehr knew better about who truly started the fight.

“I don’t think so. You need to stop taking the heat for this knucklehead.”

Neteyam bit his lip, stepping back.

”He was picking on Kiri!” Lo’ak exclaimed.

Jake pursed his lips, rolling the new information around his head.

”Go apologize to Ao’nung.”

”What?!”

Neteyam sympathized. Lo’ak had to own up to something that, for all intent and purpose, was not his fault.

”He’s the chief’s son! I don’t care how you do it, go make peace.”

”But --”

Jake cut off his younger son.

”You heard me. Right now!”

Lo’ak stormed out. Jake’s eyes traveled over Neteyam’s bruises. Neteyam looked anywhere but at his father.

”How do the other guys look?”

Neteyam blinked, staring back at his father.

”Worse,” Neteyam said with a smirk.

Jake nodded.

”Good.”

His father’s approval made him puff out his chest.

He left the marui with a nod and went back to his spot on the beach beading.

Lo’ak sat beside him with a huff.

“I’m not apologizing,” Lo’ak said stubbornly.

Neteyam snorted.

“Of course you aren’t. You are an absolute Skxawng.”

“Fuck off, Neteyam,” Lo’ak snarled.

Neteyam growled and flung a handful of sand at the Alpha in frustration.

“Hey! The fuck was that for!?” Lo’ak said, indignant. He brushed the sand off his chest.

“Why did you pick a fight with Ao’nung, hm?”

And that was it.

The fight itself didn’t frustrate him; it was the fact that Lo’ak had chosen to fight with Ao’nung specifically that made his blood boil. But why?

“He thinks he’s hot shit because he’s an Alpha and the Chief’s son! Fish lips isn’t somehow allowed to do more or say certain things or look at you like he owns you because he is somehow the big dog around here!”

Neteyam saw red. How dare Lo’ak think he was allowed to make a decision for Neteyam?

“Do me a favor. Go do what dad said and apologize.”

Lo’ak opened his mouth, and Neteyam continued before his brother could get a single word in.

“Then, do me an extra favor and stay out of it! I don’t need you protecting me!”

Lo’ak rolled his eyes and stood, storming off in some unknown direction.

Neteyam huffed, holding the string of pearls in one hand while sitting in the hot sand.

How his parents ignored him but his brother felt the need to protect him here in Awa’talu left him baffled. His parents either trusted him or didn’t care, so why couldn’t Lo’ak be the same?

Neteyam went back to his task of stringing pearls, vaguely glancing out at the horizon after some time.

A small group left the reef on Ilu, Lo’ak and what seemed to be Ao’nung included in the group. The Omega paid it no mind, continuing to bead his string of pearls.

He would talk to them later. For the moment, he focused on his beading project.

Chapter Text

Neteyam sat on the dock outside his family marui. Kiri sat beside him, staring blankly out at the ocean as he sewed shells onto his dance outfit. The Beta stayed perfectly still, and Neteyam bumped shoulders with her to interrupt the eerie stillness of her posture. Still, she remained unsettlingly stiff and zoned out. 

“Kiri?”

Neteyam’s voice cut through the silence, and she blinked, turning her attention to the Omega.

“Hm?”

“Are you alright?”

He tilted his head, and she stared back out at the horizon.

“I’m fine.”

She pushed herself up from the dock and entered the marui.

She was never fine, no matter what she said. Neteyam knew better than to take her at her word when it came to her martyrdom.

Kiri had always been sensitive of her hybrid status, rightfully so. Neteyam was not delusional or naive enough to believe he somehow did not hold a level of exemption from the ire of other Na’vi due to his more traditional Na’vi features.

Kiri felt it all much more intense than anyone else around her. It was almost as if she had a direct link to everyone’s minds, as if she was able to feel their true unfiltered feelings as if she were them. Every small bit of rejection from their peers always hit her harder than it had any right to.

Maybe the rejection of his fellow Na’vi should have bothered him more.

He finished sewing the shells on the arm bands of his dance outfit. Neteyam gatehred his things and stood.

The Omega set foot in the marui, and his sister and father huddled together in the middle of the room. His father had his arms wrapped tightly around the girl, and her face was buried in her father’s neck.

Neteyam put his things away, electing to leave the marui in favor of just about anywhere else.

His sister deserved to have her feelings in private. One of them deserved to be honest with their feelings.

Neteyam made it back to the beach just in time to see the Reef kids had returned, and Neteyam’s stomach turned as he noticed Lo’ak was not among them.

Lo’ak always found a way to get into trouble. It was what he did, but somehow, Neteyam never expected Ao’nung to be that trouble.

Neteyam approached the group, teeth bared. Several of the group members backed away.

“Where is my brother?” he said, forcing the words through gritted teeth.

The full group stepped behind Ao’nung, who stared down at the Omega with wide eyes.

“Neteyam, we tried to look for him —”

“Where is he, Ao’nung!?” His voice carried, and several of the other members of the village rushed over to see what the commotion was about.

Ao’nung held his hands up, his ear folded back. The alpha shrunk down the slightest bit.

“Neteyam…”

Neteyam growled. His tail flicked wildly, and as Neteyam paced, the other reef kids abandoned their leader in favor of their own safety.

“Last time. Where. Is. My. Brother?”

Ao’nung swallowed.

“Outside the reef. We couldn’t find him, we tried —”

Neteyam snarled and wrapped his hand around the base of Ao’nung’s braid, pulling the Alpha down to his level and dragging him through the village. Ao’nung did not fight. The Alpha simply followed, wordlessly stumbling after the angry Omega hauling him by his braid.

Once to his family’s marui, Neteyam allowed Ao’nung to stand to his full height.

“Tell him what you told me!”

Neteyam shoved Ao’nung forward, hissing and flicking his tail.

Jake stared at the pair. His brows were knit together as he rose from the ground.

“Tell me what?”

His father’s voice was soft, calm and gentle in a way it had no business being, but only in the way a father could be. Neteyam tried to ignore the way his heart twinged at the action.

“We went outside the reef with Lo’ak. We could not find him,” Ao’nung said, rushing through the words.

Jake’s eyes blew wide for a split second. He rested a hand on Ao’nung’s shoulder, squeezing.

“W-we tried! I tried to find him, but I —“ Ao’nung cut himself off, biting his lip.

“It’s alright, son,” Jake said.

Neteyam winced at the word.

Jake patted Ao’nung’s shoulder, nodding and leaving the Marui with the rest of the family following.

Neteyam and Ao’nung's eyes met, and the Alpha opened his mouth.

“Save it,” Neteyam snapped, following his family.

“Neteyam, stop!” Ao’nung called after him.

Ao’nung was hot on his heels, but Neteyam kept his pace and his eyes forward.

“I tried to find your brother, Neteyam. I didn’t want to leave, but if I couldn’t find him, I thought maybe someone else could —“

“So, instead of staying where he could find you, you left him?” Neteyam said flatly.

Ao’nung went silent, and Neteyam did not wait for the Alpha before he continued after his family.

Neteyam’s parents were talking with Ao’nung’s on the dock, and the Tsahik and Chief narrowed their eyes at their son. The Alpha shrunk in on himself, making his way through the crowd to his parents with no preamble or protest.

Everyone stayed at the dock amd scanned the horizon. The sun sank in the sky, and several groups of hunters left the reef in search of Lo’ak as the sky grew darker.

“I see the boy! Over here!” a villager called.

Lo’ak swam to the shallows mounted on an Ilu, dismounting into the water as Jake reached him. Neteyam jumped in the water, joining his father. Their father embraced Lo’ak, arms wound tight around the boy.

A crowd of Metkayina had gathered, including Tonowari and Ronal. Lo’ak refused to meet anyone’s gaze, and instead stared at the water and end the the distant sky behind the village.

Neytiri joined, hugging her son tightly before pulling away and hissing in frustration.

“I pray for strength that I will not pluck the eyeballs out of my youngest son!”

She shook him by the arm for emphasis. Her tail flicked, splashing the water.

“No! My son knows better than to take him outside the reef. The blame is his,” Tonowari said, voice firm.

Tonowari dropped a heavy hand on the back of Ao’nung’s neck, forcing him to his knees. The boy hung his head as village members watched the scene. Shame creeped on to the vacant face of the Alpha as he stared blanky at the water below the dock.

“It’s not Ao’nung’s fault. This was my idea; Ao’nung tried to talk me out of it. Really,“ Lo’ak said.

Their parents looked between the Alphas as Ao’nung stood.

Neteyam saw the confusion written all over his face. His brother, despite being left where he could’ve died, still was willing to lie and save Ao’nung’s skin.

Why?

Neteyam narrowed his eyes at the back of his brother’s head.

The families separated after Jake and the Chief shared a look. Neteyam knew that look well enough. You deal with yours, I will deal with mine.

Lo’ak was quick to interject in anyway that would make the coming verbal lashing even the slightest bit gentler.

“You told me to make friends with those kids, that’s all I was — “

Lo’ak was cut off by their father. Neteyam flinched.

“I don’t want to hear it! You brought shame to this family.”

Lo’ak clenched his jaw, eyes pointed down at the water.

“Can I go now?”

Their father growled.

”Any more trouble and I’ll jerk a knot in your tail! You read me?”

“Yes, sir. Lima Charlie.”

Lo’ak turned and headed for the Marui. Kiri and Tuk followed.

“What happened to ‘keep an eye on your brother’?”

Neteyam jumped as his father turned on him.

“Sorry, sir,” Neteyam said.

He felt small. Smaller than he had in many years.

“When I give you an order, follow it. Am I understood?”

Jake hid none of the contempt for his son’s carelessness.

“Yes, Sir.”

Neteyam was quick to retreat. He needed out of this crowd, to see Lo’ak and check that he was alright—

A hand wrapped around his wrist stopped him. Neteyam turned, and Ao’nung held him in place by their loose connection.

“I am mad at you. Let go of me,” Neteyam said. Neteyam tugged his wrist for emphasis, and Ao’nung held him tighter.

“Neteyam, please, let me explain,” Ao’nung begged.

“There’s nothing to explain! Let go!” Neteyam cried.

Ao’nung winced, letting go and stepping back.

Neteyam rushed for his marui, dropping to his knees beside Lo’ak who sat on the floor surrounded by his mother and sisters as well.

“Are you alright? You aren’t hurt?” Neteyam asked, examining his brother.

Lo’ak growled, waving his brother away.

“For the fourth time, I’m fine! Leave me be!”

Tuk snuggled into her brother’s lap. Lo’ak sighed, rubbing her back.

Their father came in. He plopped onto his shared sleeping spot with their mother, rolled so his back was towards everyone, and remained in silence. Neytiri shook her head, fussing with her younger son’s hair.

Lo’ak huffed, swatting away her hands.

She smiled, kissing his temple and whispering a goodnight to the boy. Tuk joined Lo’ak in his bed, clearly unwilling to let her brother out of her sight after the scary experience of him going missing, and everyone else made themselves comfortable in their sleep spots. As his family slipped into sleep, Neteyam stared at the wall of the marui until the sun barely tinged the sky in pinks and oranges.

Chapter Text

The Sully children and their Metkayina teachers sat on the flat rocks of the tide pools. The morning hadn’t been particularly eventful, and everyone else seemed more interested in Lo’ak’s feat of survival outside the reef.

“There was a Tulkun. When I was out there, he protected me,” Lo’ak said.

Everyone stared at the Alpha as if he had admitted to slaughtering a baby.

”I wish I had been there. The ocean blessed you with a gift, Brother.”

Kiri spoke with awe, and everyone was well aware she was nothing but sincere. The sentiment did not ease the concern of the Metkayina teens.

”He’s making this up! The tulkun have not returned yet, and anyway, no tulkun is ever alone,” Ao’nung said, doubt coloring every word he spoke.

”Well this one was!”

Lo’ak held fast to his assertion that there had been a Tulkun, despite the doubt of the majority of the group.

”I believe you, Lo’ak.” Tsireya said.

A small, reassuring smile played on her lips, and Neteyam held back laughter as Ao’nung rolled his eyes.

”He had a missing fin — just a stump. On his left side.”

Lo’ak illustrated his point by lifting his arm. The Reef kids eyes all went wide, and they met each others gazes.

”Payakan!” They spoke in unison.

The reef kids looked at each other, worry knit into every crevice of their features.

”Who’s Payakan?”

”A young bull who went rogue. He’s outcast — alone. And he has a missing fin,” Rotxo said, making a motion towards his own arm to emphasize the point.

”They say he is a killer.”

Tsireya’s voice oozed her anxiety. She was scared to even speak of Payakan, let alone associate with him.

”He killed Na’vi, and other tulkun — not here, far to the south,” Ao’nung cut in, matter of fact. The Alpha stared out at the surf and tore up a stick, absentminded.

“No, he’s no killer —”

“Lo’ak, you are lucky to be alive!” Tsireya said.

”I’m telling you guys, he saved my life! We’re friends!”

Neteyam stepped behind him, clapping Lo’ak on the shoulder. His brother jumped.

”My Baby Bro — the mighty warrior! Who faced the killer tulkun and lived to tell about it.”

Neteyam shook his brother by his shoulders, laughing.

“You guys aren’t listening!” Lo’ak snapped.

Lo’ak stood, hissing and growling in frustration.

He wanted to believe his brother. For all intents and purposes, he did, but it made more sense to not ponder too deeply on the idea of a lone Tulkun and what that meant.

Dutiful until the end, as always.

Neteyam sat beside his sister on the rock.

Lo’ak stormed off, and Kiri eyed his back as the Alpha disappeared, his shoulders squared like he could push the whole sea away if he tried. Neteyam followed her gaze.

“Let him cool off,” he said.

The Beta nodded, and her fingers slid through the water at her side. The surface trembled around her touch, the way it always did, as if the ocean recognized her, just as the forest had when they still lived there.

“Maybe Payakan did not do what he is accused of,” she said softly.

Tsireya’s mouth tightened into a thin line.

“Payakan is a killer,” she insisted. “Tulkun do not kill in any way. That is the Tulkun way.”

Neteyam glanced at Tsireya. He understood rules, and he walked the fine line of life that they restricted him to. Never did he hate the rules more than in that moment.

Ao’nung stared out the horizon, snapping the stick in his hands before throwing it into the water.

“Neteyam, we have duties to attend to. Come,” Ao’nung ordered, and Neteyam bristled.

Neteyam clicked his tongue, standing and following the Alpha. Ao’nung offered his hand, and Neteyam stepped off the rock without even a glance at the other boy.

Rocks dug into his feet along the path, and once they arrived at the main beach, Ao’nung quickly cut through the brush, ending at the cove.

The shallow water lapped at Neteyam’s feet as he stood on the shore line, warm water sliding over the tops of his feet and wrapping around his ankles.

Ao’nung kept space between them as he stared out the bright blue water of the cove.

Tiny orange fish flashed between the fingers of coral marking the boundary of the cove, and somewhere deeper in the water a school of much larger silver fish turned as one, the surface of their bodies catching the sun. It should have been calming.

It was not.

Ao’nung’s jaw was set, his shoulders tense, and his whole body poised like the Alpha was ready to flee at a moments notice.

“What was so important we had to leave? The less time we spend together the better at this point.”

Ao’nung’s expression twisted, as if Neteyam had shoved a finger into the bruise on his face.

“We have duties,” Ao’nung said again, as if repeating the words could make them true enough to stand on.

Ao’nung whistled and clicked. Ilu came into the cove, and Ao’nung connected to one and took off into the water.

Neteyam followed.

They reached the line where the tide pools and rock wall gave way to deeper water, crossing the line of reef into the ocean.

They stopped at a line of nets that had been set between two coral outcroppings, heavy with kelp and the dark shapes of trapped fish. Ao’nung disconnected from his mount, wading in without hesitation, hands already working the knots.

Neteyam joined him, fingers moving automatically. The work was familiar, and that soothed him — pull, twist, loosen, free. It reminded him of fishing in the deeper rivers of the forest with the other hunters.

Fish thrashed, and he murmured a soft apology under his breath as he slipped them into the waiting basket floating in the water. Ao’nung watched him.

“You are… gentle,” Ao’nung said, the word sounding strange coming from his mouth. The whole sentence seemed to have slipped from the Alpha’s lips unbidden, and he stared at Neteyam with wide eyes and tense shoulders.

Neteyam’s face grew warm. He kept his eyes on the net.

“It is customary to thank Ewya for her gifts, no?” he said.

“That is not what I meant.”

Neteyam’s hands slowed. He looked up.

Ao’nung’s gaze had dropped to Neteyam’s throat, where the thin cords of his necklace pressed into damp skin.

Neteyam felt suddenly, intensely aware of the salt drying on his shoulders, of how close Ao’nung stood in the water. They were close enough that their arms brushed with each movement. Close enough that Neteyam could smell him: sea salt, sun, and something sharper beneath it.

A dangerous, traitorous flutter stirred low in Neteyam’s belly.

Ao’nung cleared his throat, eyes snapping away.

“Let us finish clearing the net,” he ordered.

Neteyam obeyed.

But the air between them had changed, heavy as the water that pressed against their legs.

Every time Ao’nung’s fingers passed near his, Neteyam felt the warmth leech from the Alpha’s fingers. Every time Ao’nung exhaled, Neteyam imagined what it would be like if that breath was against his skin instead of the open ocean.

He hated himself for it.

He hated the way his body did not listen to duty.

Ao’nung had abandoned his brother, left him for dead.

So why was he leaning into the small, inconsequential touches that sent heat from the point of contact to his head and down to the very tips of his toes?

Neteyam hurriedly freed the fish, retied the loose knots, and remounted his Ilu with a basket of fish. The pair rode back to the village, dropping their spoils off with other members of the village.

They stood on the dock. Ao’nung opened his mouth, took a breath as if to speak, and Neteyam interjected before Ao’nung had a chance to speak.

“Are we finished now?”

Ao’nung sighed.

“Yes,” the Alpha said, hands loose at his sides as his shoulders sagged.

Neteyam abandoned the Alpha for anything else he could find to occupy the time.

He needed to clear his head.

Chapter Text

Neteyam rubbed the back of his neck.

He had entered the main Marui and joined his family for their meal, and from the start his skin prickled like someone was watching him.

Blue eyes met his, staring as if attempting to burn a hole into him, and throughout the meal, Neteyam tried to ignore it.

As the meal neared its end, those eyes still remained glued to the back of his head.

What did the Alpha want?

The meal finished, and the village filed out of the main marui towards their separate homes.

Caught in the crowd, Neteyam was cut off from his family, and surrounded on all sides. Fingers rested on his hip as a familiar scent coiled from behind the Omega.

“Meet me at the tree,” Ao’nung’s voice flitted into his ear from above his head, breath tickling the baby hairs on his scalp.

The Alpha was gone as quick as he had arrived.

When Neteyam arrived at the marui, he found his siblings already asleep, and his mother curled into his father’s arm like it was the only safe place in the world. He plopped onto his bed, ear zeroed in on his father’s breathing.

Once his breath leveled out, Neteyam was up and moving, making it to the forest in record time.

He passed the divide between the forest and the ocean, and only then did he slow his pace to a leisurely stroll.

When Neteyam reached the tree, his eyes fell on the long glowing ropes that dangled from the tree’s branches.

Ao’nung sat inside the embrace of the tree’s tendrils, directly at the trunk, leaned back against the tree itself for support.

Neteyam strolled over, taking care to keep his steps even and slow. He was not excited to see the Alpha, despite their newfound routine of meeting whenever the light was dim.

Ao’nung lit up, and his gaze softened as Neteyam emerged from the foliage. Ao’nung clamored to his feet.

“You came,” the Alpha blurted. Neteyam held back a snort.

“I did.”

“Does this mean you are ready to talk to me about what happened?”

“You mean you leaving my brother to die? No, and if that is what this is about, then I am going back,” Neteyam snapped.

“I need you to let me explain what actually happened alright? Because while I did leave him it was not malicious or because I wanted him dead.”

The words came out of Ao’nung’s mouth small and low, like a little kid in trouble for straying too far. Neteyam crossed his arms over his chest.

“You do not have to believe me when I say it was to make sure someone who had more experience and better knowledge of outside the reef could find him, but that is the truth.”

Neteyam wanted to trust him, but this was his little brother. He would never be able to erase the look of utter disappointment plastered on his father’s face.

Neteyam wrapped his arms around himself tighter.

Ao’nung sighed, reaching into his pouch tied to his loin cloth.

Ao’nung held out a pearl in the very center of his palm. Turquoise, iridescent and roughly half the size of the Tsahik’s forehead shell, it made Neteyam’s breath hitch.

“What is this?” Neteyam asked, voice small and eyes wide.

“It’s yours,” Ao’nung said, as if that was the most logic and only response in the whole world.

Neteyam pushed the Alpha’s hand away, wrapping his fingers around the absurdly sized jewel.

“You think a simple offering will be enough for me to forgive you?” Neteyam snapped, growling as he took a step closer.

Ao’nung stood firm.

“You left my brother in a place where he could have died, Ao’nung! That doesn’t just go away because of a gift!”

He was absolutely furious. Did Ao’nung mistake him for dumb and simple?

“You take me for idiot, Neteyam,” Ao’nung said.

“I do not expect this to change anything in this very moment.” Ao’nung shook his head as he spoke.

“But… if you can forgive me at some point, I want you to take this,” Ao’nung said.

The Alpha grabbed Neteyam’s hand and ever so gently placed the pearl in his palm. His hands retreated, and Neteyam was left to hold the jewel in awe.

Neteyam took a breath to steady himself, then spoke.

“What am I meant to do with it?”

Ao’nung laughed. The Alpha smiled fondly down at Neteyam.

“Make something with it. You went pearl scavenging, so I thought you would know this,” Ao’nung said.

Neteyam snorted, rolling the pearl between his fingers.

“I am most certainly not dumb, Ao’nung. I mean what specifically should I be making? After all, there is no way you gave me this and expected me to sew it into my dance clothes,” Neteyam said, eyeing the Alpha with a cocked brow and hip, his arms crossed over his chest.

Ao’nung took a step closer, and stole the breath from Neteyam’s lungs.

“Make it into a headdress, something you can wear on your forehead.”

Neteyam eyed the pearl in his hand. It already had a hole pierced through it. He did have a couple strings and some more pearls…

Neteyam dropped the pearl into his pouch and stepped carefully over the small roots of the tree towards the direction he had come from.

“Are you leaving already?” Ao’nung asked.

“Why do I need to stay? You gave me what you wanted.”

Neteyam stared at him, then took another step to depart from the forest. The Alpha grabbed his hand, then dropped it.

“At least let me walk back with you.”

He supposed that was fair. After all, the forest was much safer with the two of them together.

Neteyam ignored the small brushes of fingers and bumping of shoulders as they trekked through the forest back to the village. Neteyam paid no mind to the Alpha behind him, walking through the village back to his marui.

The Omega laid on his bedroll and pulled the the pearl from the pouch tied to his hip. HE stared at the jewel, rolling it in his fingers.

He would make a choice. He would have to, but tonight, he needed some rest.