"Do we have to go?" Kiri complained, sitting on her mat.
"Yes," Jake said firmly. "The clan has been very generous to invite us to share their evening meal. And we are more than happy to go." He said that last part like a command, eyeing both Kiri and Lo'ak, making them understand it was not open to negotiation.
Just like the Omaticaya, the Metkayina clan ate a shared meal during the evening, surrounding each other in the village center. The familiarity made his heart ache for his home in the forest.
Tuk had squealed happily at the invite, bouncing around their Mauri while their mother followed, trying to settle her enough to fix her braids.
"It is a great honor to be accepted at a new clans' nìyll kaym," Netiri said, finally managing to straighten her youngest daughter's braids. That was true, Neteyam could not remember a time an outsider was ever allowed at the Omaticaya fire. Perhaps his father had been the last when he first became Na'vi.
He pondered the thought while re-attaching his armband. The green of the ikran feather stood out vibrantly against his dark blue skin. Next, he fastened his waist wrap firmly around his midsection. It was a gift given to him after his Iknimaya. The beads represented his place among the Irkran riders, symbolizing his status as a true warrior. His knife, ever-present, hung safely at his hip. He relished the amber blade. His mother had carved it herself. And he often found himself playing with the leather strings that bound the handle when he was nervous.
When he looked up, Neytiri was smiling at him fondly. "I am proud of you, my son," she said, pushing a beaded braid behind his ear. "You look wonderful."
Neteyam couldn't help but puff out his chest a little. "Thank you, mother," he said. Lo'ak snorted from behind him, but Neteyam ignored it, waiting for the rest of the family to finish getting ready.
While most of the Sullys had adapted their clothing to that of the reef style, woven kelps adorning their traditional loincloths and chest coverings, his mother stood out from the rest. She still looked every piece of the Omatikayan warrior she was. The bone and leaf collar that framed her chest shone wickedly in the marui firelight. The former chief's daughter did not need her bow to appear deadly. His father cringed slightly at her choice of attire, choosing himself to stick with a simple leather loincloth, ridged with scales from the nearby cove.
"Are we going to go, or…" Kiri grumbled from the entryway.
"Yes," his father said, clapping his hands together. "Remember what I said about behavior, kids," he reminded.
"Yes father," Neteyam said firmly, while Kiri and Lo'ak only grumbled their agreements.
As they approached the main fire, Neteyam could hear the low beating of drums and the chatter of voices ahead of him. Before him, dozens of hunters, weavers, and families gathered around. Younger kids yipped and giggled happily off to the side as they chased each other by the fire. Tuk looked hopefully after them but Neytiri took her hand and shook her head slightly.
"Sullys!" A great booming voice called from across the fire. The whole tribe quieted and turned to them immediately. Neteyam straightened his back and tried to look as presentable as he could. He reminded himself that he was a warrior and represented his whole family when he carried himself as one.
"Please, please come sit with us," Tonowari continued. "My people, we have welcomed the Sullys as brothers and sisters. Let them eat with us as such."
A quiet murmuring fell around the tribe as they worked their way over to the chief's family. All eyes were on them as they passed.
"Well?" Tonowari asked, gesturing back to the drums. The heavy beating picked up again and soon the chatter returned, although every now and then tribe members would shoot their gazes back to the newcomers.
"Thank you guys for inviting us," his father said to the chief. Tonowari nodded respectfully. Jake nudged his wife subtly.
"Yes," his mother said finally. "We are honored that you would have us at your clan's nìyll kaym".
"It is a great honor indeed," Ronal said firmly, still frowning at their presence. He saw his mother stiffen in annoyance but she said nothing more.
"Sit! Enjoy!" Tonowari said good-naturedly.
The food remained mostly the same as it had the nights before. The flat shell plate contained a variety of fish. Next to it, were a few paysyul leaves that contained a yellow-like fruit. Neteyam bit into it hesitantly and found it tasted similar to the kllpxiwll they picked at home.
"Do you like the food?" Tsireya asked, smiling at his family. "Our hunters go inland to gather from the mangroves."
"It is wonderful," his father said politely to the chief's daughter. Tuk jumped in excitedly but Neteyam's attention was drawn across the firepit to a piercing blue gaze.
The flames reflected in Aonung's coral eyes, casting shadows down his face. It made him look near feral. His gaze traveled over Neteyam's body, focusing on his waist with dilated pupils. As the older boy took in Neteyam's dark blue skin, he couldn't help but shiver under the intensity of his stare. For a moment he genuinely thought Aonung might attack him, yet he couldn't quite identify anger in his eyes. It seemed like something else, something darker.
As he was reflected in the Metkayina boy's stare, Neteyam couldn't help but look back.
Just like in their lessons, the boy wore a woven armband, full of fragmented shells. It spanned firmly across the length of his bicep, which Neteyam could not help but note was larger than an Omaticaya's. Not only that but his broad chest and shoulders seemed like they were carved specifically to cut through the water with firm strokes. The sharp tooth necklace only emphasized that.
Neteyam had noticed the piece of jewelry when he first arrived but now he knew of its significance. While his father, the chief, wore a chest piece made of the fearsome akula's teeth, his son wore a singular skimwing tooth. It was the mark of a future leader.
While the boy had no tattoos, Neteyam knew it was only a matter of time until he completed his Iknimaya. He would then earn the markings of a Metkayina warrior. A selfish part of Neteyam wondered what the chief's son would look like, covered in the markings of a true reef warrior. He startled himself with the realization that Aonung was really attractive. Truly handsome. His jaw was strong and curved, with the signature Metkayina pale-blue markings, rippling down the extent of his chest - Before anything else could come of that thought, Neteyam rapidly pushed it away and ripped his gaze from Aonung.
He desperately tried to focus his eyes elsewhere. He could feel his heart beating heavily in his chest. Needing a distraction, he looked at the fire before him. Families from the village all sat happily, eating and talking about themselves. The glowing flames burned and crackled, sending sparks up into the night sky. The sky, which looked so much like the one he saw from home. And suddenly Neteyam was hit with a painful throb of homesickness.
Behind him, he heard Kiri happily asking about the medicinal plants, but her voice blurred into the background of chatter. A gut-wrenching ache filled his heart as he realized he might never see his home again. Never again sit amongst his people at their own fire. Or look up from the tree branches to see the sky above. His family was being hunted and he could never go home.
And suddenly he couldn't stand it anymore. His eyes burned and he had to go. Had to get out. Stumbling up, he let his plate fall to the ground with a crash. His family looked up in surprise but he didn't say anything. He couldn't. Instead, with jerky steps, he fled the fire with his heart pounding in his ears.
He crashed through the village until he felt sand beneath his feet. It was only then that he looked up. The fresh night air hit his skin and brought him back to the present. He placed his hand on his chest, letting his pulse calm before making his way over to the dock.
Away from the fire, Neteyam's breathing slowed. The night was reminiscent of the one he spent with Lo'ak outside their marui. The same silver fish flashed beneath his feet as he sat down on the cool wood. There had been times within the past week where he felt that perhaps this place could be their new home. That their family could find peace here. But there would never be another forest. And that thought shattered him deeper than he cared to admit.
His ears perked forward at the sound of the wood creaking behind him. Lo'ak. Eywa , he was not in the mood to hear his brother berate him for leaving. The footsteps came to a stop next to him.
"What?" he snapped, his voice near a snarl. All he wanted was some space to grieve the life he had left behind.
"Woah, relax forest boy."
Neteyam's head shot up and found it was Aonung standing beside him. His hands were held up in mock surrender, keeping a cocky look on his face. But beneath it there was a hesitation, if he didn't know better he might have even thought it was concern.
He didn't have the energy to fight right now. So he turned his head back to the open water and sighed. "What do you want Aonung?"
To his surprise, the other boy sat down next to him and paused for a moment. Neteyam felt his ears flick back in anticipation. "To check on you," Aonung said finally. "Why did you leave?"
Neteyam snorted dryly, ignoring the strange emotion that pooled in his chest. "Yeah right. What do you really want?"
"Maybe I want to know where the great Omaticaya warrior stalks off to in the middle of evening fire," Aonung joked, keeping his tone light. Neteyam did not answer, instead choosing to focus on the fish below him, darting back and forth. The light that came from them made them seem like little stars below the surface. The grief of his home was still fresh in his chest and this was the last person he wanted to talk to.
"Here," Aonung's voice said, a bit gruff. Neteyam looked over as the other boy reached to his hip. Out of a small leather pouch, he pulled a shining object and quickly deposited it into Neteyam's hands. It was a pearl. He looked up at the chief's son, baffled.
"It is from the gray clams," he said finally, no longer looking at Neteyam. "I dove for it earlier."
Neteyam studied the pearl in his hands. It was rather dull for a pearl, he thought to himself. The notion that Aonung spent time to find the least beautiful pearl to give to him was incredibly amusing.
"Thank you," he said, tucking the peace offering into his pocket.
"I should not have sent you down there on your first day," Aonung expressed. "It was wrong of me and I am sorry."
The apology caught him completely off guard. A part of him was waiting for the other to grab it back and say he was joking, but he did not. Instead, he simply sat there, watching the water next to Neteyam as the stars hung above them silently. The Omaticaya could not help but turn to the other and study his face. Those glowing freckles stood out against his teal skin and Neteyam found himself thinking just how beautiful he looked. The sudden urge to reach out and brush his fingers against the star-like patterns caught him by surprise. Neteyam had never felt like this before. Before he could do anything stupid, he shoved himself away and quickly stood up.
Aonung was quick to follow, clearing his throat awkwardly as he stood back. "I should go back," he said, gesturing to the village where the fire still shone brightly in the distance.
"Of course, yeah right," Neteyam stuttered, cursing the unusual tone of his voice. Before he could think any better, he stuck his arm out between the two of them and offered his hand. "Truce?"
Aonung glanced between them, briefly startled, but grabbed his arm nonetheless and held it firmly. "Yes, truce," he replied, before letting go and turning back to the village.
Neteyam watched him leave, skin still tingling from Aonung's grip. Before he could think any better, he pulled the pearl back out and held it in his hand. The object was still warm in his palm from the other's touch. His stomach stirred and he quickly tightened his grip around it and tucked it away again.
Pushing his thoughts away, he left the docks and went back to his family's marui, eager to fall into an unconscious sleep, where he could no longer miss his home or feel trapped by a certain pair of gleaming blue eyes.