So...I come bearing a new set of one-shots, sort of in the vein of "Meet me on Pandora" but this will be a focus on Neytiri and Jake. I was inspired when I watched the movie again (after I bought it). Especially after Hometree was destroyed and I kept thinking....okay, seriously, if I were Neytiri, I would be questioning everything I know right now. So these one shots are going to deal with Neytiri's doubt and faith and how sometimes they play into each other. These one shots will be moments that weren't in the movie and if you don't know by now, I live for those...
Enjoy!
I own nothing at all, everything belongs to James Cameron.
"Morning without you is a dwindled dawn."~Emily Dickinson
"I know you are reading this poem listening for something, torn/between bitterness and hope/turning back once again to the task you cannot refuse."~ Adrienne Rich, "XIII (Dedications)"
"Eywa will provide," I grew up hearing. Trust in her, Sa'nok says. Follow her, Tsu'tey says. Remember her in all things, Sempul always said. She, who is All-Mother, gives and takes as she sees fit. She keeps the balance of life and death, and it is not our place to think we know better. Eywa will provide. Ewya will always provide.
But as I help my people in the tiniest ways; hauling water, bandaging the wounded, comforting the grieving, they implore me with their gazes: why did this happen? Why did Eywa allow it? But I cannot answer this, I don't think I ever will be, even if I live to be older than Sa'nok, it will never make any sense. Still I wonder it to myself as I try to dispense whatever comfort I have left. Many reach out for my hands and I grasp back. We need to know that we are not alone in this all-consuming sorrow.
Once this grief was common. War claimed many lives, death stalked us like a pack of Nantang. And Eywa wept for all the destruction we brought. But that was back in the times of great sorrow, before the Na'vi learned that we are all People. Before the time of the First Songs, before Toruk Makto.
The children hide behind their parents if they're able, drinking as much water as they can to clear the smoke from their lungs. Mothers check them over, as if to remind themselves that they're alive. Some parents mourn for a lost child, some children call for parents who will not return. I move among the families, broken or not, feeling some of their glares and their blame sliding down my skin: How did you let this happen? I find that it's the question I keep asking myself as I gaze back.
When there is nothing more I can do, I return to the base the Tree quietly, only to overhear Tsu'tey, who has taken my father's place, snarl to my Sa'nok. "…killed him when I had the chance!"
"The sky people would have come," Sa'nok retorts, wiping her hands with a rag as she watches the sun dip below the horizon. Tonight, the sky is brilliant with reds and golds, evidence of the ash in the air. "had Neytiri chosen Jakesully or not, Tsu'tey." She sighs a little sadly, a little tiredly. "He tried to stop them, he tried to help-"
"Help!?" Tsu'tey gestures out to our broken people. "He would never be one of the People! I told Neytiri-!"
"Enough!" Sa'nok orders when she turns around to see me standing there. "That is enough for tonight!" She adds as a dismissal and waves Tsu'tey off. Tsu'tey may be Olo'ektan but Sa'nok is still Tsahìk, her voice is still commanding, but scratched from the smoke. Her huge eyes still hard, demanding, but slightly obscured by swollen lids.
As he passes me, though, I see the mirrored blame in his eyes. The hurt pride that I chose someone else, the suffering of our people. Why did you do this? He asks me silently. Why did you have to choose him? Why did you not listen to Eywa?
I thought I was. But, perhaps, I am starting to realize, I did not.
"You've got a burn on your arm," Sa'nok notes when I reach her. She pulls me down to sit and pulls out a fresh rag and clean water.
"I didn't notice," I whisper as she presses the rag to the thumb-sized burn on my wrist. Now it hurts, I realize as she's patting at it. "Sa'nok…"
"Hmm?" She keeps her eyes on her work. Now she puts away the rag and wraps a clean bandage around my wrist. The leaves will help with the pain and quicken the healing.
I grip her wrist to make her look at me. "Sa'nok-"
She lifts her eyes finally and I see the evidence of the toll that the smoke and tears have taken on her. Her eyes, so very similar to mine, settle heavily on me.
There is a question I must ask but I am not sure that I can. "I…are you all right? With Sempul-"
She huffs out a breath. "He is with Eywa. And one day I will be with him again." She replies evenly, determined.
"But Sa'nok-"
She's in no mood to discuss it as she cuts me off. "How in Eywa's name did you not notice this?" I don't know if it's because of what I have done or because of what the sky people have done.
"I was busy," I reply quietly changing the subject. "What will we do now?"
Sa'nok finishes the task at hand and stands. "We will heal for now. Pray for a sign. But for now, I need to sleep." She holds her hand out to me. "Are you coming?"
"No," I pick at the edge of the bandage. "I'm going to sit up for a while. Think. Pray."
Sa'nok grabs my good hand. "Eywa will provide." She repeats, her voice trying for strength but rasps off at the last syllable. And she disappears into our claimed spot under the nearest rock ledge.
Now is it just Eywa and I. I curl up at the base of the tree, far from any one's sight, most of all Tsu'tey's, and attach my queue to the nearest glowing strand. But I'm unprepared for what comes next.
For a moment, all I hear are the cries of horror, prayers for the dead, for the dying and the scared. They whirl through me, making all the doubt grow large and the shadows long. Over and over, I see Hometree toppled to the ground, the roots reaching up for the sky. The flames lick the trunk and branches, turning it black and lifeless. I see the familiar faces of friends and family torn in dismay of what has occurred. Where are you Eywa? They cry with one voice. Why have you allowed our home destroyed? Where are you as this small child coughs so hard there is a film of blood coating his teeth? Where are you as this mother has cried herself hoarse looking for her child? Where are you as this warrior sits alone in the grass waiting for a mate who will never rise again? Where are you while the ash from our home rises and clouds the horizon?
Where are you, Eywa? I join them and wish She could turn back time. Where were you when my father died? Where are you now that my mother is so alone? Where were you when I made such a mistake in choosing him? Where were you? Where are you?
"I've already chosen," he told me only last night, his voice teetering between un-ease and longing, his hands already reaching for me. Still he held back. "But this woman must also choose me." He told me a half grin touching his lips.
I remembered the Atokirina touching down on my palms as we stood there in the glow of the trees. "She already has," I told him without any hesitation. For those few hours, I felt his eyes on me without worry or discomfort, I'd gloried in the delight I'd brought him, the way his hands, though with too many fingers, ran up my spine, my arms, my neck. I'd thought the Atokirina was a sign. I thought it, and Eywa, had bound us together in a way that would never torn apart.
Now, it seems nothing more than a silly dream, one broken by a swift sunrise and a grueling day.
Where are you Eywa? I pray. Where are you when I need you most? But Eywa is quiet tonight. She only receives the cries of her people and does not answer us except for the knowledge that She is listening.
Seeing that is nothing more that I can do, I detach my queue. When I come back to myself entirely, I realize that nearly all the people have gone to sleep and so I find my way to my mother's side. As I get closer, I see that under the blanket, her shoulders are shaking. I grab an extra blanket and as I lay it over her, Sa'nok turns. And in the moonlight, the tears glisten brightly on her cheeks.
The pain of what I have done comes back to me tenfold. I brought the Uniltiranyu here, thinking that perhaps Eywa had chosen him for something, I trained him, I believed in him…I chose him…. Even when I knew I shouldn't. I have brought these tears to my Sa'nok's eyes.
My brave, strong Sa'nok… Wordlessly, I wrap my arms around her. "Why has this happened?" she whispers brokenly to me. "Why Neytiri?"
"Sa'nok…" I reply, trying to wipe her tears away. "I'm sorry. I should have known…" Sa'nok shakes her head into the crook of my neck. " I should have-I didn't think…" But I can't speak anymore as the words get stuck in my throat. I hold Sa'nok as tight as I can to infuse what little strength I have left into her. We cry ourselves to sleep as silently as we can.
When I wake, it's slowly, letting each strand of sunlight brush across my face, neck and shoulders. I should be up and doing what I can. But I have so little strength to do so. I lay a while longer, cataloguing each burn, each tired muscle. My bruised heart bids me to rise but I quiet that voice for the time being.
I lay there in the dawn as the sun warms my skin, thinking of how this time yesterday I was happily sleep in his arms. I could feel his breath against my neck, the way his hand lay protectively over my waist. As I roll over and bury my face in the blanket roll beneath my head briefly and I realize that its how I want be waking up right now. Despite everything that has happened; all the doubt and blame, my damaged heart still says that we were right.
Perhaps, because of the dream I vaguely remember. In it, I was flying, as I do in many of my dreams. But not Se'ze…no… In this dream, I coasted the skies on a massive Toruk. We plowed through the sky easily; the Toruk's massive wings moving up and down, creating air currents of its own. It opened its beak and let out a huge roar, echoing. Perhaps it is a sign. Perhaps today, Eywa will give.
When I finally find the strength to rise, I realize that I'm alone. Sa'nok's already up, moving among the People, all traces of last night gone. Once again she is strong and invincible Tsahìk, she must be.
As the morning continues, we realize that several have died in the night and we spend the rest of the day burying and in prayer. The mourning seems to have no end in sight. We eat mechanically, without tasting or knowledge that we have done so. Many are still wounded and afraid. So, as twilight settles in again, we gather around the tree and offer our prayers to Eywa in song. The song grows in volume as more and more join in, the voice of the people cannot be silenced or forgotten as we offer our fears and wishes to Eywa. We only sing half the song when there is a sudden roar of wind, the screams of the people as a huge orange and black creature falls into the valley.
No Eywa, no….I snarl. Please! No more death….
And then a figure dwarfed by the Toruk's massive size slides from its back. I know instantly who it is.
"It is your Jake…" Sa'nok confirms. "Oh Ewya…it is your Jake…Toruk Makto…"
But I barely hear her as I look only at my Jake. I move past Tsu'tey, past Sa'nok, past the other singers and step down and closer to him. Everything has fallen to the wayside, except for his eyes.
My heart, still burned from the fires and the loss of our People, rejoices at his appearance and the way his eyes never leave mine. He doesn't notice how the people back away in reverence, touching his arms, shoulders and muttering: "Toruk Makto," over and over under their breaths. He only stops when he's an arm length from me. He does not try to touch me, perhaps, because of how I shoved him away before, because of how I hurt him too.
"I see you," I offer.
"I see you," he gives back as I reach forward and place my hand on his upper arm. So familiar and yet…he mirrors me, slowly but with growing confidence, he cups my face in his huge hands.
He doesn't ask why, but I say anyhow: "I was afraid for my people, Jake…but not anymore."
Eywa will provide.
well? Love it? Hate it? Wish i had never returned to write? that last one is a joke :) But tell me what you think. Feeback is alway always always appreciated The next one is going to be really interesting.