Author's Note: Hello my loves! Sorry about the wait! I like this chapter, I think it's cute! I hope you all enjoy!
Mo'at was willing to fight for Tsu'tey based solely on how he spoke to Eytukan. How he believed that this Tsyeyk was his mate, but he was still willing to honor his promises and fulfill his duty to the clan. That was enough for Mo'at, and honestly, as upset as Eytukan was about Tsu'tey not being honest about what was going on, it wasn't enough for him to not find sympathy in his heart for the situation.
One side glance at her mate's expression and Mo'at knew that Eytukan would honor Tsu'tey's decision. If Tsu'tey realizes what Eytukan has alreay accepted as their eventual reality, then Eytukan will accept it.
The matter of Sylwanin is still up in the air, but without knowing what exactly is going on with Tsu'tey and Tsyeyk, there isn't a whole lot that can be done at the moment. But Mo'at knows her gentle hearted daughter would only ever want the best for her longtime friend in Tsu'tey. And if Tsu'tey wanted Tsyeyk, then Mo'at knew that her daughter was going to be their biggest supporter.
Mo'at, as agreed, went out with Tsu'tey and a small team of hunters to look for Tsyeyk the following morning but they couldn't find him. Mo'at was willing to fight for Tsu'tey based solely on the sheer terror he went through trying to find him. Tsu'tey brought them to all the places the two teens explored the day before, trying to see if he was at any of them, but they couldn't find him.
Tsu'tey's steady descent into panic as the hours passed and they still couldn't find him was... hard to watch. After Tsu'tey expressed his worry because of how thin Tsyeyk was and how unobservant he is, his mind immediately latched on to every worst-case scenario as to why they couldn't find him. He sleeps in fields with nantang, for the Great Mother's sake! Any number of things could have happened to him out in the dangerous forest and not only was he lacking the skills necessary to survive, but he was also growing thin and weak from hunger.
None of the hunters that accompanied them dared to question Tsu'tey, who was so well respected in the clan, as he slowly descended into a fear fueled mania. They just quietly follow him back and forth through the forest. They kept searching until late into the night when they heard something massive running across the forest floor. Only thanator that aren't actively hunting are that loud. But even then, this beast sounded huge and Mo'at called it a night.
Tsu'tey didn't protest, just pressed his ears back and obeyed despite his ears then falling into a swivel, trying desperately to pick up some trace of Tsyeyk as his eyes continuously scanned the forest around them.
On the way back, after a very long, tense silence, he quietly asked of Mo'at, "What if one day is all I was allowed to have?"
Mo'at didn't know what to say to that, she just gave him a steadying look and ran a comforting hand down his arm. Tsu'tey looked miserable despite the comfort she offered him, eyes tracking any sort of movement from the forest all the way back to Hometree. Grasping desperately at any chance that he could glimpse Tsyeyk amongst the trees, down on the forest floor, anywhere!
One of the hunters, as they were coming up on Hometree, easily asked, "We set out bright and early tomorrow too?"
They all look at Tsu'tey, who casts a look at Mo'at. She meets his gaze with an expectant look, waiting for him to decide.
"Yes," he says, looking like the young man he's worked so hard to get people to forget that he is. The hunters agree and head to sleep for the night. Mo'at hangs back long enough for Tsu'tey to ask, "Do you think he's okay?" And suddenly, he's eight again, staring up at her in earnest, mature even when he was so young.
"Yes," Mo'at says firmly. "Have faith." Mo'at did. When Tsu'tey and her daughters left after Mo'at's insistence that she would be going with Tsu'tey to see Tsyeyk the day before, she went to pray to Eywa for insight, and all she could glean was... brilliance. A bright blinding light and... joy? Fulfillment?
Absolution.
Tsu'tey trudged away, head low, shoulders bowed. But despite his worry, he was waiting for Mo'at and the hunters the following morning, ready for an early start. No one protested, not even Mo'at. Not even when it appeared as though he didn't sleep a wink.
And while she was already ready to fight for them, she really knew she would when they finally found him, out in a field, the first place that Tsu'tey took them the day before. He was curled up as small as he could be, a pile of bloody vomit a few feet away, and even from this distance, Mo'at could see how thin he was. See the sharp curve of his side where the bone of his hip protruded too far.
They disappeared to Tsu'tey the moment he saw Tsyeyk. He just walked away from them and into the field. He laid out his bag and bow before reaching out to touch Tsyeyk, lift him into his arms - or Tsyeyk wrapped his arms around him and pulled himself close - they talked, cuddled a bit before Tsyeyk pulled Tsu'tey down onto his chest, soothing him to sleep.
Mo'at decided to give them some time. She remembers her mother telling her stories about mates destined by Eywa being forced apart. How they would wither. How they would break apart and descend into madness. Tsu'tey's unexpected rapid decay from the day before reminded Mo'at of those stories. She never knew what they meant, how her mother explained that normal Na'vi simply wouldn't be able to understand the soul crushing need to be with their mate. Not just love or desire binding them, but something that comes from the very fabric of their souls.
They need each other to live. Once they have found one another, they can never be forced apart. And if they are, they will die.
It is in that realization that Mo'at ascertained her belief that Tsu'tey may live the life of a Bond Breaker if forced to bond with another. No amount of will in the world would ever let him resist seeds sowed by Eywa. If they were meant to be, then they will find a way to be.
And seeing all the tension leave Tsu'tey's body as he sleeps in Tsyeyk's arms is enough for Mo'at. Truly bonded by Eywa or not, to find that person that makes all of your worries disappear like that? Let your brain just shut down at that? In such a short amount of time? Then perhaps even if not ordained by Eywa, it still might just be meant to be. Two souls meant for one another, even if not directly tied by Eywa.
"Let's give them time," Mo'at says, climbing up into one of the trees, the three hunters following her lead.
"I have never seen Tsu'tey so riled up before," one of the male hunters says quietly. "He was in a complete panic yesterday. Who is that young man?"
All eyes turn to Mo'at. She moves to rest her back against the trunk of the tree, glancing out at the sleeping pair, contemplatively.
"Tsu'tey believes that he is his mate," Mo'at says easily, figuring it wasn't wrong to admit. She knew her own mate would agree to the boy coming to stay with the Omatikaya when he hears about the state that he's in. Eytukan is a fair leader, Mo'at has never heard anyone dispute that, but he is also very kind. While his expression is strict and he appears firm, he only ever does what he thinks is right. And while she knows he was angry at Tsu'tey for looking for his mate without even speaking to Sylwanin at first, they both knew it wasn't malicious.
And Eytukan has always helped out where he could, even when he didn't have to. Even if it meant overextending himself. He may be stern in his delivery, but Mo'at never doubted her mate's kind heart. She always knew that she was the stricter of the two of them. Sylwanin and Neytiri had their father wrapped around their fingers. He was the one that rarely ever denied them whatever they wanted - within reason.
"Really?" The oldest male hunter says, forehead lined with interest. "I thought that he was promised to Sylwanin."
"He is," Mo'at admits. "But Eywa has intervened, it seems. We shall see. I wanted to see this Tsyeyk for myself. Apparently, he is unwell. And... unique."
"Unwell?" The female hunter echoes. "Is the chief going to allow someone with sickness into the clan?"
"Neither of us would ever without precaution," Mo'at dismisses. She waves her hand a bit. "He is... child-like. Ignorant to our ways."
The female hunter hums, resting her bow across her legs while the younger male hunter looks over at Tsyeyk and Tsu'tey.
"I couldn't see any clan markings," he says, looking back at Mo'at. "Did Tsu'tey say which clan he is from? Maybe the clan will be willing to form an alliance? Like the Tsezexii did when you and the Chief were betrothed."
"I do not know," she admits. "I do not think he is part of any clan from the forest."
The hunters look at each other, shocked, before glancing back over at Tsyeyk, curiously. Respectful enough of Tsu'tey not to say the immediate thoughts crossing their minds about a clanless male out in the forest alone and what could have possibly led to that. Especially if Mo'at is right and Tsu'tey thinks that this clanless male was meant to be his mate. A union blessed by Eywa.
But Mo'at's thoughts travel elsewhere as she smiles faintly, remembering her own political betrothal when she was young. How angry she was to leave her clan. How she fought tooth and nail with her own mother. She didn't want to leave her clan. She didn't want to learn a new way - possibly compromise her own beliefs to fit in with another clan. She didn't want to be stuck to a man she was going to despise for making her change.
And then she met him. Eytukan was perfect for her, and she knew after the first meeting, when he stared back at her as if she took his breath away, that they were meant to be.
Eytukan's Tsahik mother ruled the clan until Eytukan's iknimaya. His Olo'eytan father killed in a clan conflict when he was barely eight years old. Instead of forcing Eytukan into a position he wasn't ready for, his mother held the clan together for years until he went through his trial and proved he was ready. She gave him time to grow up and experience life. To be a kid. To learn and watch and gain experience while his mother was still the one to take the brunt of the ramifications of his decisions.
Her predecessor was a wonderful woman, much like Eytukan. Stern but kind. Mo'at came to see her as a second mother, who came to love and care for her. Who taught her how to be Tsahik. How to be Omatikaya. And how to be a mother when Sylwanin was born.
Mo'at remembers her union ceremony and the proud smile of a mother on her face as she recognized them as a pair in the eyes of Eywa, blessing their union and sending them away to be bonded.
But she will never forget the tears of joy sliding down her face as she gently cuddled a newborn Sylwanin, nuzzling her and kissing her little face before going to Mo'at, even before her own son, and pressing a sweet kiss on her forehead and thanking her for brining joy into the Omatikaya. For being everything that she could ever ask for in a daughter-in-law and a successor.
She finally stepped down as Tsahik as her health had been failing her for years and just barely managed to hold out long enough to meet Neytiri, holding her in her arms and whispering a lifetime's worth of love into her ears, as she had done the night Sylwanin was born.
She only lasted a few months after before rejoining Eywa and her ancestors. Mo'at still thinks about her a lot. She knows that her mate sees so much of his mother in Neytiri, their little spitfire.
But this wasn't the same. Tsyeyk was not a son promised to Tsu'tey through clan politics. He is a boy raised in the forest by who knows who, that doesn't even know the language. Even the clanless know the language as far as Mo'at has seen. And he appears like an avatar according to Tsu'tey. And in his words, "almost like an avatar," which Mo'at didn't think to address at the time. How could he be almost an avatar? Either he was, or he wasn't. And clearly, he was an avatar if he was fascinated by Tsu'tey's four fingers.
Mo'at isn't sure what to think about all of this, but Eywa wanted her to be here. Wanted this moment. Whatever she feels, this Tsyeyk must belong with them.
"Oh no! No!" The young hunter hisses, pulling Mo'at's eyes open from where she was resting them. She had a long night that she hasn't had to do in an even longer time.
She looks to the hunter to see all of them aiming their bows down toward the field, right at Tsyeyk and Tsu'tey. She stands up carefully from where she's perched to see nantang slowly making their way across the field, carefully, chests against the grass, hunting.
She opens her mouth and lets out a little yip to alert Tsu'tey but he doesn't move, still resting on Tsyeyk's chest. She hesitates for a second as the nantang don't react to the noise either, closing in. She yips again. Nothing.
The older male warrior moves into position, readying to fire when his entire body tenses up as one of Eywa's seeds drifts down from the branches above, hovering slightly over the tip of the arrow. The other two hunters hesitate, lessening the tension in their bows at the obvious sign by Eywa. The three hunters look to Mo'at, but her eyes are down at the nantang, as they transition from a hunting approach, chests and chins low to the ground, to simply walking until they are right next to the two sleeping teens. The pack of nantang gather around them for a moment before they lower down, curling up to sleep alongside the two teens.
Eywa's seed bounces around a bit before floating back up into the tree branches. Mo'at and the hunters stare in shock as the nantang just fall asleep. The hunters slowly release the tension in their bows and stare down at the unusual scene before them. Mo'at recalls that Tsu'tey mentioned the nantang sleeping around Tsyeyk the first time he saw him, but she hadn't realized that he was legitimately sleeping with nantang around him.
"They... aren't hurting them," the young hunter says, shock evident in his voice.
"Why is that?" the female asks, looking back at the group. "They just... curled up around Tsu'tey and the other boy and are just... sleeping."
"It is certainly a sign from the Great Mother," the older male hunter says, resting his arm on his knee. "But what happens when the two wake up? Will the nantang attack them? Will they even wait that long?"
No one had an answer for that, but the three hunters look towards Mo'at for their best bet, even if she wasn't sure. Slowly, carefully, Mo'at says, "We wait. We should alert Tsu'tey so that he doesn't startle them into attacking either, but carefully. Keep trying to warn him without alerting the nantang. Be ready to help them if we need to," she says, turning narrow golden eyes toward the two teens sleeping amongst the nantang, in surprise, and awe.
It's been a few hours since Tysyek and Tsu'tey fell asleep and over an hour since the nantang joined them before one of their yips, as they have been trading off every couple of minutes trying to get his attention, but Tsu'tey is just exhausted enough that he isn't reacting to anything around him, finally catches their attention. Well, not their attention. Just one of them.
Until finally Tsyeyk shifts after a yip. Catching the motion, Mo'at leans up and yips again, catching the hunters' attention. They all pop up onto their hunches and watch as Tsyeyk comes to enough to get his bearings and wake up Tsu'tey, keeping him calm and preventing him from waking up the nantang and forcing them to fight one another. Tsyeyk picks up one of the younger nantang that was sleeping on Tsu'tey's bow and cradles it to his chest. Once Tsu'tey had all of his things, Tsyeyk placed the adolescent nantang down, took Tsu'tey's hand and easily lead him away from the beasts without waking them at all, to Mo'at and the hunters' surprise.
Mo'at yips again, once they get close to ensure that Tsu'tey was alright, to which he simply nodded, hand tightening around Tsyeyk's. Tsyeyk looks up at the trees, golden eyes passing right by them and lets out an innocent, "Ah" to which the hunters all glanced at each other in confusion, not sure how to respond to that. Mo'at, though, finally got a good look at Tsyeyk, even from an elevated angle.
And no wonder Tsu'tey was both concerned for Tsyeyk's health and confused on whether or not he's an avatar.
As they watch the tadpoles swim and then go to a pond to clean up, Mo'at takes in Tsyeyk's features. He has five fingers and toes, and eyebrows - the hair above his eyes - as Grace and the other Sky People did. But despite his clearly defined ribs and bone structure from malnutrition and all the knobs of his spine poking out as he hunched over, his shoulders aren't as broad as even that of normal Na'vi male, which is definitely different from the Dream Walkers. His hips, chest and waist are closer in size to one another, almost giving him a more... effeminate body shape.
He's obviously male, that much Mo'at can see, but he's part of the line of Na'vi males that were made during the time of Great Sorrow for the Na'vi of the far north, when wars and devastations killed many of the women of the clans, nearly wiping many clans out with their inability to reproduce. Some of the last surviving females gave birth to males that were capable of carrying babies to term, nursing them and caring for them until the population managed to stabilize itself once more.
They are rare in the forest, and practically nonexistent in places like the reef as far as Mo'at knew. But they were quite common amongst the peoples of the north, both of ash and ice, where most of their people nearly died off. Some of the males that lived there, ran in fear of their treatment and abuse by the clans and eventually intermingled with the forest Na'vi. Mo'at knew of one in her own tribe growing up, but he was an old man at the time, having only ever managed to bring one child into the world even after being with his mate for almost sixty years.
They pass off as slimmer, trimmer male Na'vi. Wider hips, but slimmer chests. And while the older male in Mo'at's clan was actually about as tall as the females were, Tsyeyk is almost as tall as Tsu'tey. But they were both young. Mo'at could see that based on his body shape, even though she doesn't have a lot of experience with intersex male Na'vi, she can tell he's young. Probably around Tsu'tey's age, maybe even younger. Tsu'tey is going to be eighteen at the beginning of the new year, this boy as to be sixteen or seventeen, but she doubted any younger than that.
Mo'at's mother told her that it was extremely difficult for them to become pregnant in the first place. She's not sure if that's just because the ability has been breeding out over the generations and just cropping up at random in a select few males, or if it was because their bodies were altered in the womb by the Great Mother for only a short amount of time so that the People could heal. Mo'at never knew one way or the other if it were true, but seeing as the only one she knew of - as there is none in the Omatikaya - could only manage to carry a single child for his mate, she figures there has to be a grain of truth in it.
Respectfully, the hunters look away when Tsu'tey washes Tsyeyk's hair, murmuring amongst themselves about how it has to be true that Tsu'tey believed that Tsyeyk was his mate, the act both private and intimate. Something that is typically shared between mates, and parents and their offspring. It involves a lot of trust and care.
Mo'at watches the loving ministrations Tsu'tey does for Tsyeyk. Painstakingly, over and over again, he washes, cleans and detangles more of the mess of Tsyeyk's black hair. When Tsu'tey finishes, most of Tsyeyk's long, mid-back length black hair is finally detangled and laying smoothly down towards his waist until only the queue remains. It's a long, matted mess that once used to look like a braid, no doubt, but neglect makes it hard to tell.
No doubt that was something saved for later. Washing Tsyeyk's hair was intimate enough with Tsu'tey already knowing that people were watching them, but he had to try and help Tsyeyk which is why he did it, Mo'at knows. But this was different. A lot different and even more intimate. The level of trust in dealing with another's queue is immense and Tsu'tey doesn't even look like he's ready to try to emphasize the need to detangle that mess to someone who obviously doesn't understand yet. He's doing what he can while trying to be as respectful as possible.
And Mo'at couldn't be prouder of the young man that would one day fill the position her mate leaves behind.
Tsyeyk is extraordinarily child-like. From the way he has to carefully sound out words, listening to Tsu'tey repeat them multiple times, to gazing at the tadpoles in wonder and chasing around the fish as they brush up against his feet, to even how he admires the weed in his hand, smelling it like it was the most beautiful thing while declining Tsu'tey's many offers of gathering food for him.
Tsyeyk rests in Tsu'tey's arms, his cheek smushed against one of the arms he has around Omatikaya's neck. The hand of the arm he's not leaning on gently runs across the back of Tsu'tey's shoulders. Tsyeyk is mumbling something, gently running the pad of his finger along Tsu'tey's back and shoulders as Mo'at leans down closer to try and hear from her position almost directly above them as he pulls back a bit to speak to Tsu'tey, mostly just random sounds, until a single word peaks through. And that word, it's not English. It's not part of the Na'vi language at all. But the skin along her arms pimple up at it, and she can see that it does the same to Tsu'tey, but he doesn't appear to notice, or at all react to it, too enraptured staring at Tsyeyk's face.
She doesn't know the word. She's never heard it before now. And while most of what he's saying is gibberish, with hints of words from their language blended in without proper rhyme or reason, not forming a cohesive sentence, that word... somehow, she knew it meant something like 'happy'. She felt it brush across her skin the same way she would when feeling Eywa's will. As Tsahik, she was taught to always trust her instincts and every feeling that comes across her, as they are all signs from Eywa in one fashion or another, but it was her job to open her mind to them, interpret them for her people.
Her eyes flicker to the hunters around her, wondering if any of them heard it, but they were all looking around the forest, keeping an eye out for any dangers.
He says it again in his jabbering to Tsu'tey, and Mo'at notices motion behind the young man sitting on the lap of the Omatikaya hunter, as the wave of feeling washes over her skin. When Tsyeyk said the word, all the fish in the pond swirled where they swam in perfect unison. Mo'at jerks a bit at the motion, surprised. The older male hunter catches her movement, eyes sharpening as he glances around searching for what shocked her.
"Where is the danger, Tsahik?"
"Listen to Tsyeyk," she says, and the other two hunters look to her as well, curiously, "and watch the fish."
The hunters exchange looks before turning their attention down at Tsu'tey who's nodding at the nonsense that Tsyeyk was sprouting back at him, big grin spreading across the clanless boy's lips as he grows more excited. His fingers drum against Tsu'tey's shoulders as he leans back and forth on his lap, tail slapping hard against the rock behind him, pretty white teeth flashing in Tsu'tey's face as he enunciates sounds in an attempt to say something not cohesive.
Tsu'tey's hands grip onto Tsyeyk's hips to steady his rocking back and forth, having way too much energy. Tsyeyk doesn't seem to mind as he blabbers on, nothing really striking out at Mo'at that she began to wonder if she had imagined it as the hunters shifted restless next to her, not sure what they were looking for. Tsyeyk pulls the crumbled weed still clutched between his fingers and places it on Tsu'tey's ear, making his golden eyes flare with joy as he starts to bounce in happiness.
His hands shake with his pent-up energy in between the two teens as he stares at the weed. "Ah! Tu'tey! It's pretty! It's pretty!" He gushes, reaching out to poke at the weed, shaking with excitement. Then he opens his mouth and yammers on more excited nonsense into Tsu'tey's gently smiling face until another word sneaks in and the tingling sensation washes over Mo'at's body. Her skin prickles and the fish, in unison, spin around in the water behind him.
This word was different from the one before, but still gave her the impression that it meant something like 'pretty'. The first word flushed his skin with something familiar. A feeling of happiness, and this one forced her mind to remember the wreath of flowers her mother always used to wear before Mo'at left to join the Omatikaya. Mo'at always thought that it was beautiful. It was made from flowers that grew around her childhood home, flowers she hasn't seen since she left.
The hunters all look between each other, bewildered as their own skin prickles and they look to Mo'at with wide eyes.
"Wait, what was that?" the female hunter asks. "I feel... weird."
"And the fish," the young male says, scratching at the shaved side of his head. "I... what happened? Why did they do that?"
"I don't know," Mo'at admits. "But it was Tsyeyk. He did something." All three hunters share a look, unsure, as Mo'at stands up, moving to get down from the branch. It was time that she spoke with this Tsyeyk herself. The hunters follow after but with a wave of her hand, they hang back a bit to give her space.
Tsyeyk spots her from over Tsu'tey's shoulder. His bright, joyful face morphs into one of anger and fear upon realizing that Mo'at was in fact standing a few feet behind Tsu'tey and not a figment of his imagination. His perked ears flatten, and his lips pull back into a hiss as he wraps his arms around Tsu'tey's head as if to protect him. He leaps up onto his hunches, cradling Tsu'tey's face into his chest, tail lashing behind him in anger.
Tsu'tey twists around as much as he can with the death grip that Tsyeyk has on him in surprise, his hand wrapped around his bow, ready to defend both of them when he spots Mo'at and immediately releases his bow and immediately sets to soothing Tsyeyk.
"Do not be afraid, Tseyek," Tsu'tey says softly, gently running his hands up the other teen's tense side, trying to calm him down. "They are with me; they are part of my clan. Fellow hunters. My Tsahik."
The clanless boy seems to be unable to hear Tsu'tey, hissing and looking between the four unfamiliar people in mistrust.
Mo'at feels the hunters behind her tense, as they raise their bows and turn to face the forest. It takes a moment for Mo'at to realize that the forest of them went deathly silent.