She was stuck, and she was terrified.
It was not because of the pain on her leg; Na'vi warriors knew how to ignore pain. It was not because she could easily be killed while trapped under the slain palulukan. No, it was not her own danger that had Neytiri struggling frantically to pull her leg free, it was Jake.
She watched in helpless desperation as the heated combat between her mate and the tawtute in the metal abomination continued. Jake had succeeded in forcing the man to expose himself from within the unnatural monster, but now the fight had centered on the long container that was so out of place in this forest glen. It had already been damaged by the massive arms of the machine and alarms could be heard screaming from within. Jake was trying to force the man away from the shiny structure while clinging to the back of his mount. He seemed on the verge of victory as he stabbed his knife at the man's head, but in that moment Neytiri saw his grip slacken, a dazed expression forming in his eyes. Something was wrong.
Focus, Jake!
Her thrashing was having an effect; her trapped leg was emerging from beneath the massive beast, but it was coming in inches. The sound of Jake landing heavily on the forest floor alerted her to the lack of time, however, and she could only watch as he seemed to pass out briefly before awakening to the vicious grip of the machine yanking him skyward by his queue. Jake screamed in agony, and Neytiri matched him with a final shout of exertion as she strained against the weight, slipping out from its grip at last.
Her heart pumped faster than she could have ever imagined. She flew over the ground, gathering her fallen bow and rising to face her enemy in one fluid movement. The man was bringing Jake's own knife to bear on her mate's neck, a cruel grin belying his pleasure over his defeated foe. She felt every muscle in her body tense as she drew back on her weapon, pausing only long enough to calm her breath for one desperate shot. Fly true, do not be late! she pleaded silently as she loosed the shaft. An eternity seemed to pass as the golden-fletched arrow crawled toward the human's chest; Neytiri was sure he could step aside at any moment, but he did not see his death coming. Through his mask his eyes glittered briefly with victory, but as the knife pressed against Jake's exposed throat, Neytiri's prayer found its mark. Aimed perfectly, coming within a breath of Jake's suspended body, the arrow buried half its length within her foe's chest. The look of pleasure changed to pain, the man's hands unclenched involuntarily and Jake fell back to ground.
Neytiri had not sated her fury yet. She sprang closer, putting a second arrow to her bow while the man clawed at the first. His vision locked onto her as she aimed her shot and fired, putting the bolt straight through his gut. She moved to cover her fallen mate's body, watching with grim satisfaction as the dying tawtute's face locked into a grimace of pain and anger before man and suit collapsed among the ferns.
With her enemy slain, Neytiri turned her attention to the limp but living body beneath her. A quick check told her that he had not sustained any significant injury, but his eyes were closed and his breathing was shallow, just as when he returned to his human self at night. This was little comfort, however, for it seemed she could feel his presence through their bond; he was near, and he was dying.
A faint clatter from within the metal box brought her scrambling to her feet. She ran to the nearest portal on the side of the container, her hands smacking the clear, hard substance the human's called a window. There was a small, frail-looking man lying on the floor of the box, but she could not see his face. Nonetheless, her heart told her all she needed to know: It is my Jake. She shifted to the next opening in the wall, one that had been shattered in the fight, and within a heartbeat she had sprung inside, finding herself confined by the cold, artificial devices with which the tawtutes surrounded themselves. It stank of oil, smoke, and lifelessness, but above it all she could smell him, and she quickly moved to the prone figure at the end of the cabin.
"Jake," Neytiri begged, reaching to bring him closer. Even though it seemed impossible that this small, weak creature was the man she loved, she knew that in this body resided the mind of Toruk Makto. His chest was still, and his face was as pale as the ash from Kelutrel. As she brought his half-lidded eyes into view, her sight confirmed what her soul already knew; this was her mate. She shook him, willing him to awaken from this nightmare. "My Jake!"
He cannot breathe our air, she realized. She searched for something to aid him, and her eyes fell upon the mask dangling a few feet from his body. She had seen humans wear these, so she tore it from its alcove and frantically pushed it over his face, cursing herself for not remembering sooner.
Nothing happened.
Jake! Breathe!
Her anguished cry seemed to reach him through their bond, for suddenly he gasped for air, reaching to pull the mask tighter to his skin and opening the valve that allowed it to fill his lungs as they screamed for oxygen. The hiss of release, followed by the rasp of inhalation, signaled that it was working. Neytiri found that she could breathe again as well; the fear of losing her mate was leaving as color returned to his features.
But then she felt a change, something in the back of her mind that sent shivers through her body. Jake smiled up at her through the mask, but even as he did, his face seemed to shift, losing some of its familiarity. Neytiri recoiled slightly, unsure of what was happening. He continued to smile, but it was not the warm, innocent smile that had melted her heart in days past; it had become more like the grin of the man she had just slain outside. His eyes no longer pierced her; they now had the dull sheen of worn pebbles washed by the riverside. With a jolt of fear, she realized that she could no longer feel the bond they shared as life mates.
What is happening? Terrified, Neytiri realized that one of her hands was shifting from its support behind him. It moved steadily around his torso, rising up his chest, coming to stop at his exposed neck. Suddenly she was aware of its intention, as her large fingers easily wrapped around the child-sized throat. She tried to pull away, but her body seemed to be out of her control. Slowly her fingers tightened, cutting him off from the air she had so recently given him. Her other hand moved to her side, drawing the knife she had once used to protect the man she was now strangling.
"No! Jake…I can't…" she cried, frantically trying to bring her wayward arms back under her sway. Her knife hand rose to join the other, bringing the blade to his skin with the steady, inexorable approach of an executioner. The human looked up at her, still grinning, and even as she felt Jake's windpipe collapsing under her grip and her knife came to bear upon his throat, he spoke to her in Na'vi, words dripping with a contempt that wrenched her heart.
"You have betrayed your People, Neytiri. This being is not one of you, he is one of them. How can you join with him, how can you dishonor your ancestors, your position, your world?"
A vision of her father flashed before her, standing in front of the fallen Hometree with a shard of wood piercing his side. He shook his head in sadness, as if rejecting her choice before Eywa, before returning to the shadows of her memory.
Neytiri's eyes stung with tears, unable to tear away from the gruesome deed she was helpless to stop. "He is not one of them, he is Omatikaya. He is my Jake. I love him!" As she spoke, Jake's features shifted once more, becoming the familiar, blue-skinned form that she had left outside. Hope and pride rose within her chest as she dared him to argue with this proof. But when she returned her focus to his face, she found the same dull eyes of the human looking back at her, and the bond she so desperately needed, more than the air around her or the sun above, did not return. Her hands continued to move against her will, mocking her feeble attempt to alter their purpose.
His voice continued to stab her ears. "No, Neytiri, this body does not hide the truth. You cannot be one with him forever; his people will return, and they will make him your enemy."
"NO!" she screamed, giving every bit of her strength to make her fingers obey. The knife began to slide under his chin, a faint crimson ribbon following behind that grew wider like the blasphemous smile on Jake's lips. His mouth opened in a hollow laugh as his life flowed over her hands to the cold, alien floor…
"JAKE!"
Neytiri's scream pierced the cool, glowing Pandoran night, prompting several riti to disperse from a neighboring tree, casting their silhouettes against the bright disc of Polyphemus. She bolted upright from the broad branch she had been sleeping on, bringing her hands to her sight, expecting to find them red with death. Her cerulean skin was all that greeted her, slowly pulling her back to reality and calming her racing heart. She was sobbing, but that too began to ebb as her mind repeated its mantra over and over: He's not dead, he's here, it was a dream. The low hum of nightlife returned to fill the empty silence in the wake of her cry.
She felt the body next to her rise as well, and a warm, five-fingered hand pressed against her shoulder, conveying the concern she knew was etched in the owner's face. She turned, briefly burying her tears in Jake's chest, letting his gentle touch and steady heartbeat banish the lingering fear of what had happened.
"Neytiri," he spoke soothingly, brushing back her wayward hair. "I am here, nothing is wrong…" He willed her to remember where they were, that they had come here to find a night of peace in this tree, away from the interruptions and responsibilities of life with the Omatikaya
She pulled back, looking into his eyes, finding the familiar glow that had captured her almost eight years earlier. She had immersed herself so many times in his adoring stare; it was what made her fall "head over heels", as Jake would put it. Right now, thought, it was not enough. She needed to be closer to him, to feel his presence as strongly her own, to know that they were one spirit.
Jake smiled as she brought her queue forward, silently pleading that he do the same. He knew better than to question her; Tsaheylu was not something to be taken lightly, but Neytiri was not easily frightened and she almost never cried, so whatever vision had come to her in her sleep must have been terrifying. He reached back, bringing his braid to meet her own, still fascinated after all these years by the conflicting rush of emotion and tranquility that came with the intimate connection as their nerve endings meshed into one. Immediately he found the source of her fear; she showed him her dream, conveying the emptiness she felt when their bond failed, making him cringe as his own voice spoke the painful words of doubt. Tell me it will never be so, Jake. Show me that I have not made the wrong choice.
He sent her his reassurance, covering the pain in her heart with a blanket of confidence and trust. He began to show her his own memories of their time together, images which he had shared many times before as they basked in the intimacy of Tsaheylu. The first time he saw her, leaping to defend him from the attacking nantang. The first time they shared the open sky together on their ikrans. The first time they kissed, surrounded by the Utral Aymokriyä, and became muntxa. The first time he had opened his eyes as a complete Na'vi. Watching her move silently, admiring her grace and beauty on the many hunts they had undertaken. Racing through the trees, laughing in a heartfelt competition to best one another. Laying together for the first time in their new Kelutrel. The night she told him that they would be having a son.
The last memory brought with it a flood of emotion: pride, pleasure, worry, anticipation, but above all, joy. Joy in the life they had brought into the world, joy in seeing every day the physical manifestation of their love for each other. In his mind, Jake marveled at the tiny hands as they reached to grasp his finger the first time he had held him. He shivered in the realization of how precious this life was as he stroked the child's warm cheek. He knew nothing but content as he looked into the large, golden eyes of his son, love racing through his being as it did in the gaze of the woman who gave him those eyes. Neytiri had been slowly relaxing as Jake recounted his complete happiness in their life together, but as he sent the image of their son through his eyes she felt every doubt that had threatened to choke her heart fall away like leaves before the wind.
"Oel mengati kameie," she said, showing her toothy smile, letting him know that she was whole again.
He returned the smile, bathing in the waves of comfort that echoed between them. They lay back down, bodies eager to return to the peace of sleep.
"Oel ngati kameie, my Neytiri, and nothing in the world will ever change that."
Far from their world, half a light-year away, a ship sped through the darkness of interstellar space. The markings on its bow described it as the ISV Berlyne, property of the United States government. Her long, fragile hull was the same as all of her sister ships, connecting the forward engines with the sail-like mirror at the aft end, bridged by the cargo holds and cryo stations in between. Deep within her belly, two hundred seemingly lifeless bodies were being monitored by the ship's computer as they awaited their arrival, as of yet unaware of the signal they had received from the human colony on Pandora four years ago as they flew towards their destination. To the computer, the names Jake Sully, Grace Augustine, RDA, and Omatikaya meant nothing, merely data to be accessed by the proper authorities when the time came. The machine continued to ensure the stability of the stasis of its charges, its only acknowledgment of the change in situation being a single blinking light on a long-unused display.
A/N: I wrote this prologue when I was considering an idea for a long sequel-type story to Avatar. I enjoyed writing it and I liked how it turned out, so I decided to publish it. However, I make no promises as to the continuation of the story, as I have not decided on where I want to go with it. This is not a plea for positive reviews, it is simply fact. As I said with my last story, writing is not my forte; it takes me ages to work out kinks and produce something I find presentable (I wrote the first draft of this prologue two weeks ago), and with two jobs time is scarce. Hopefully I will work out something entertaining to both myself and prospective readers, but don't get your hopes up for the near future.
In the mean time, please review. Criticisms are welcome!
I am not including translations for the Na'vi words, because I think a little bit of research is good for the soul.
It was pointed out to me that I had not explained the dialogue system. Normal words in quotations are English, words in italics and quotations are Na'vi, words in italics with no quotations are thoughts.
Disclaimer: All characters (and most of the plot) belong to James Cameron and 20th Century Fox.