Author's Note: Sorry about the wait! Enjoy!
Once they get close to Hometree, Tsyeyk wiggles from his dad's arms and races down the worn dirt path to the entrance as fast as his little legs can carry him. He stops just beyond the threshold, eyes scanning the open area and the clansmen going about their day. He looks between the sentries standing on either side of the main entrance, barely remembering to respectfully return their greeting before moving inside, eyes scanning.
"Mommy!" He calls as loud as he dares, his mind still reeling about what he had seen. "Mommy!"
That draws the eyes of most of the clan, parents wondering if it was their child calling for them, or they hear the strain and worry in his voice. One of his mother's aids appear, nudging aside her mate with a look before heading over to the little boy. Tsyeyk likes her, she makes lots of sweets for him and his sisters to share. She kneels down next to Tsyeyk, taking his little hand in hers.
"What is wrong, little one?"
"Tu'tey!" Tsyeyk gasps, gripping her hand as tightly as his own little one could. "Mommy, Tu'tey hurts! Need mommy!"
She frowns, worried. "He's hurt?" Her eyes raise over the top of his head, scanning.
"Daddy with Tu'tey. Daddy," he gasps, trying to find the words. He pushes long braids ticking his cheeks back out of his face. "Daddy and Tu'tey's daddy. Mommy! Need mommy!"
The healer nods, helping tuck the stray braids behind Tsyeyk's ear. "Your mother is praying, little one. I will send her to her hut, have your daddy bring him there."
"But mommy!" Tsyeyk says, squeezing her hand. "Tu'tey owie! Hurt!" He's bouncing up and down, not understanding how she didn't grasp the urgency in this. Tsu'tey was hurt! He needed Tsyeyk's mommy now!
She smiles softly, caressing his cheek, her eyes flickering over the top of his head, nodding at something before looking back at him. "I will get your mommy, sweet boy. Bring him to her hut, okay?"
Tsyeyk nods, pulling away to run back to daddy, who was a lot closer now in the time it took for Tsyeyk to get his mom's aide to help, pushing through the legs of the adults that were eyeing the returning hunting party, noting Tsu'tey curled up in his dad's arms and the somber looks on the hunters' faces. Dad turns to them, saying something too low for Tsyeyk to hear as he rushes back up.
"Daddy," Tsyeyk says breathlessly, reaching up to grab his finger, wrapping a little hand around it. "Mommy, daddy! And with Tu'tey!"
"I will address the clan shortly," his daddy says to the hunters, looking at each of them in turn. Despite how hard Tsyeyk pulls him, his dad is immovable. "Not a word until then."
The hunters all bob their heads in agreement, quickly dispersing. Finally, Tsyeyk's dad relents and allows Tsyeyk to drag him toward the Tsahik's hut. Tsu'tey's dad follows, gently nuzzling a whimpering Tsu'tey as he does.
One of the hunters who hadn't yet dispersed, placing a comforting hand on Ateyo's arm, matching step with him so he doesn't have to slow down. "I will let Artsut know what has happened to Tsu'tey, brother. And let her know where to find you."
Ateyo dips his head, pressing a kiss to Tsu'tey's ear before saying, "Thank you, brother."
Tsyeyk is gasping for breath, his heart pounding in his chest by the time they make it to the Tsahik's hut. He's jumping up and down in the doorway, eyes blown wide as he looks between both the dads and his best friend. They seem like they are moving in slow motion and Tsyeyk just doesn't understand why. His dad scoops him up into his arms, nuzzling him and hushing him softly.
"My son, you are racing about wildly. Catch your breath. I know you worry for Tsu'tey, but he is okay."
Ateyo lowers the boy in question onto one of the mats set out for patients that come to visit Tsyeyk's mother and sits down by him as the boy softly cries, rubbing roughly at his face to try and get rid of the steady tracks of tears down his cheeks. Tsyeyk whines, bending backwards so far that his dad had to grip him tighter to keep from dropping him. A hand moving to support the back of Tsyeyk's neck as he reaches out to Tsu'tey.
"Tu'tey, daddy! Tsyeyk want Tu'tey!" The near six-year-old whines. "Tu'tey need Tsyeyk."
"I know that you want to go to him," his dad says softly, nuzzling Tsyeyk's neck, "but give him a moment to settle down. What happened has scared him."
Tsyeyk's arched back bends upright once more as he places his hands onto his dad's face. "Tsyeyk to Tu'tey, daddy."
"Patience, tiyawn," his dad murmurs, nuzzling his cheek. "Wait for your mother, son. Give her a chance to look at him before we crowd him."
"Daddy," Tsyeyk says, placing his hands on both of his father's cheeks, turning to look at him with thin furrowed brows. He pulls his dad's face closer so that they were staring into each other's eyes.
"Yes, my son?" He says softly, staring into Tsyeyk's big golden eyes with his own.
"Tu'tey," he whines. "Tsyeyk and Tu'tey!" He pats his dad's cheeks and twists around to look at his best friend, who was nodding, sniffling at whatever his own father was softly whispering into his ear as he pets down his braids and kisses his temple. "Tu'tey need Tsyeyk."
"Patience," his father says softly, kissing Tsyeyk's cheek. "You must learn patience."
Tsyeyk pouts, furrowing his brows more which makes his dad smile slightly, nuzzling the crease between his son's eyes, much to the boy's annoyance. And despite the tension on his father's face, there is a softness to his expression. A comforting way about how he hold Tsyeyk to him, like Tsyeyk is soothing him as much as he is soothing his son. Tsyeyk's shoulders droop a bit and he wraps his arms around his dad's neck and leans forward to hug him tightly.
"Tu'tey needs Tsyeyk," Tsyeyk says softly, skin pimpling a bit at the loving caress down his back and the light nuzzling at the side of his head.
"I know, tiyawn," his dad says softly. He says that, but Tsyeyk doesn't feel like he does. If he did, then Tsyeyk would be allowed to go to Tsu'tey.
Tsyeyk's mom showed up not too long after that and immediately got to work. It starts with a remedy that will help to ease the ache. And it might make him sleepy, she had warned. She doesn't ask any questions about why this happened. She just switches on her soft, caring voice that she uses for children - even her own - as she tries to get a full grasp of what all hurts on Tsu'tey. One of her aids is there to help her with whatever she needs.
Tsu'tey's mom shows up not long after, rushing to her mate's side and lowering down by Tsu'tey's head. She coos and nuzzles him, whispering soft, sweet things to him as she gently pets down his braids and runs the back of her knuckles down the side of his face lovingly. Tsyeyk's dad sways back and forth comfortingly as Tsyeyk rests his head on his shoulder, top of his head pressed into his dad's neck as he stares at Tsu'tey.
"Mommy," Tsyeyk says softly. "Tu'tey needs Tsyeyk, mommy."
His dad rubs his back as his mom glances over her shoulder at him, smiling softly. She scoots up to Tsu'tey's head, helping him sit up and drink the remedy that she made for him. "Oh? And what would you do for him, sweet boy?"
"Better," Tsyeyk says, running a small pointer finger along his dad's collarbone. "Tu'tey need Tsyeyk, mommy."
She huffs, amused before looking down at Tsu'tey. "Do you feel up to him or do you want me to send him for nap time?"
"No, mommy," Tsyeyk whines, nearly throwing himself out of his dad's arms. Had his dad not been holding him so securely, he would have ended up on the floor of his mother's hut. "No sleep. No, no. Tu'tey, mommy. Tsyeyk and Tu'tey."
His mother smiles, looking back down at Tsu'tey, who was staring at Tsyeyk with his ears pressed flat against his skull and his big, watery eyes searching his face before nodding. He holds his hand out, a look of pain and vulnerability crossing his little face. See? Tsyeyk was right. Tsu'tey did need him as much as he said that he did. Tsyeyk is lowered to the ground, and he hurries over to take his mom's place by Tsu'tey's side, immediately lying down next to him and pulling him until he's flush with Tsyeyk.
Tsu'tey twists onto his side so that they are facing one another while the Tsahik still has access to his wounded ankle and Tsyeyk finally gets a good look at him. Cuts and scrapes litter his body from the fall. There is darkening markings along his arms and legs and a big one on his shoulder that he's not resting on from when he was tossed around in his fall. There is a particularly deep cut just below his right collarbone that is bleeding a lot more than the others that he can see.
Tsu'tey sniffles, blinking tiredly before reaching out to lightly touch Tsyeyk's shoulder, a slight tremble to his little hand. "Are you okay?"
"No owies," Tsyeyk says, eyes scanning Tsu'tey's body. "Tu'tey owies."
"They don't hurt," Tsu'tey says quietly. Then says, softer, "At least, not as bad as my ankle."
Tsyeyk blinks, he's never hurt his ankle like that before. It's darkening and swelling even while cradled gently in his mom's hands. She turns it slightly and Tsu'tey whines, ears pressing back in pain. Artsut hisses something, her fingers lightly dragging across Tsu'tey's scalp. Tsyeyk's mom spares her a half glance but doesn't respond.
"I'm glad that... you didn't fall..." Tsu'tey says softly, eyes drooping a bit.
Tsyeyk tilts his head but doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know how to say that neither should have fallen. That what happened was scary and shouldn't have happened to them. But he doesn't know how to say that.
Tsu'tey closes his eyes, the medicine that Tsyeyk's mom gave him is finally working. Tsyeyk's mother starts tending to Tsu'tey's leg, examining the swollen ankle while Tsyeyk brings a finger to one of Tsu'tey's cuts on his cheek, putting the pad of his finger over it and closing his eyes for a moment, pushing the light in his chest - the light his Mother put there - into the wound before pulling his finger back to see the skin sealed closed.
Her gift for when he needs it. A light meant to protect. Meant to help. Meant to heal. He only ever used it on himself with Mother to help him before mom came for him. Then he didn't get owies that mom couldn't just wrap up for him or pain that she couldn't kiss away. But Tsu'tey needed Tsyeyk to help him. And Tsyeyk is happy that he was still able to do it, happy that it felt like second nature still. As easy as breathing.
A flush of warmth washes over his skin.
Tsyeyk smiles, feeling a small pull to his shoulders, but it's barely noticeable so he's sure that it's okay. He moves to another mark and does the same thing, and then again. Going from one tiny cut to the next, feeling the strain get harder and harder to bear. His eyes droop closed for a moment, before he jolts slightly, opening his eyes again and gives himself a little shake, looking around to see which ones that he would rather do next while he still has the strength, but it's draining from him quickly. His body is getting tired, his eyelids heavier, and the warmth over his skin is growing in strength.
Not much more, She whispers. Too much.
Tsyeyk considers, looking at the cut just below Tsu'tey's collarbone again, blinking tiredly. Okay, one more. Then he'll rest. He sees Artsut reaches out to place a hand onto Mo'at's forearm as she stares at Tsyeyk, her eyes wide. Tsyeyk closes his eyes, focusing on the light inside of it and pulls another peace out of it and pushes it into the wound on Tsu'tey's chest through his own palm, needing more than all the other little cuts, but when he opens his half-glazed eyes to look at the skin under his hand, it's smooth once more. The cut is gone.
Tsyeyk wipes away a bit of the drying blood, some of it smearing, some of it flacking off to make sure that it's completely closed, and it is.
Tsu'tey doesn't even shift, his breathing still deep and even, lashes sticking together and damp. But Tsyeyk doesn't mind. He's just happy to have cleared some away. But now his body is burning with the exertion and he's unable to keep his eyes open any longer. He scoots closer, wrapping his arm around Tsu'tey's shoulder and presses their foreheads together, closing his eyes and letting the exhaustion claim him.
But right before the drop off, it almost sounds like his mom calling out softly to him, her hand pressing lightly to his ribs, but he doesn't know if she said anything else as sleep claims him.
Tsyeyk woke up feeling warm. He can hear the soft voices of his parents talking around him. Soft and low, but he would recognize them anywhere. He stretches, arms above his head and feet pointed down, pops running along his arms, shoulders, arched back and hips, and his legs. For good measure he rolls his ankles to get those to crack too. His fingers brush against something that kisses lightly at them while a long thin hand settles on his chest and stomach, rubbing soothingly.
He groans, body hurting from his day out. He turns onto his side, into a warmth that he immediately knows is his father base on the smell, so that his tail which had been trapped underneath him can move around and regain feeling. His father's strong arm wraps around him as he snuggles closer, groaning a bit as he stretches out again. He feels the furry tip of his tail brush lightly against his mom's side, smiling to himself when she lightly wraps her hand around it. His tail curls a bit and his mom let out a little laugh, giving it a little, playful tug before letting it go.
Tsyeyk feels his father's hand running up and down his side and back as he snuggles closer to his chest and curls his spine a bit to get comfortable again, tucking thin arms between him and his dad. He feels his mom's hand run along his scalp, pulling lightly on his braids and running blunt nails over his cheeks, forehead and neck. The motion is lulling him back to sleep, coupled with the darkness of their home and the warmth of his parents around him and the soft pets on his back, side and face is almost too much to ignore.
"You are special, tiyawn," his mom whispers. "The Great Mother made you as a gift to the People. And we are fortunate to have you here, as our son."
Tsyeyks twists onto his back a bit, rubbing at his eyes and squinting into the darkness around them. He looks between his parents, looking at their glowing markings and the light of their eyes.
Tsyeyk blinks at her, grabbing onto his dad's hand as it settles on his chest, wrapping little hands around his dad's larger fingers. He hugs his dad's hand to him while glancing over at his mom, rasping out sleepily, "Mommy? Tu'tey owie?"
She runs her fingers along his forehead, tracing the glowing markings on his forehead that his mother called, "the crown". The pattern is regal and distinctive enough to set his markings aside from most other's. Tsyeyk's mom is the only other person in the clan with a forehead pattern of glowing freckles that are distinctly regal and crown-like. Tsyeyk heard from other members of the clan that it's believed to be a part of a royal bloodline within the Na'vi. Something that was bred out or lost over time. Only select few throughout their history have such a beautiful trait. It makes them more sought after. Like their connection to Eywa is stronger.
His mom wasn't convinced of the validity of any of that. She just scoffed and said it was a unique trait that just happens to appear with some people. There is no regal bloodline, or greater meaning behind it.
His father's thumb rubs at the intricate glowing markings on his chest, yet another marking of prominent marking, this one a lot clearer. Like a swirling pattern leading to the center of his chest. "The eye of Eywa," his mom called it. It was made up of two separate sets of glowing markings. One that just naturally lights up making what could be considered a simple pattern much like everyone else's, but when he's too close to founts of Mother's power, or he pulls it from himself, the second set lights up, making the eye appear on his chest. She didn't put a lot of stock in the crown, but that one she did. That one meant something to her. To her, it was a sign of Tsyeyk's connection to Eywa. Tangible physical proof literally written into his skin.
"Tsu'tey is okay, little love," mom says softly. "I just had to stabilize his ankle, brew some medicine for him for later and let him go back home to rest with his parents. You can go and see him in the morning. How... do you feel?"
Tsyeyk rubs at his eyes. "Sleepy, mommy."
She smiles lightly. "You did something incredible special, sweet boy," she says softly, running her hand over his braids. "Do you realize that?"
Tsyeyk yawns, shrugging his shoulders. He twists toward his mom, so his dad's hand slides onto his ribs. Tsyeyk reaches out and gently runs a little finger down his mom's nose. She smiles at him, kissing his little hand. He smiles back at her, unsure of what he means. He shakes his head at her question.
He sits up a bit to look over his mom to see Neytiri and Sylwanin sleeping all cuddled together. Tsyeyk yawns again before lowering back down, knowing that his parents won't let him sleep next to his sisters. He's an escape artist, as mom calls him. A slave to his impulses, so to speak. He would wake up in the middle of the night, dazed and confused and wander around, sometimes forgetting that he's with the clan and now that it was dark he needed to get back to Mother before beasts found him. More than once he came to the realization far from Hometree and scared out of his mind.
His father, in a blind panic, would usually find him curled up in the dirt, crying softly into his hands to avoid beasts hearing as best he can. His father would scoop him up into his arms and hold him tightly to his chest and head back home, calling off the party of hunters that would accompany him. His father's heart is pounding in his chest as he cradles Tsyeyk close.
"Daddy," Tsyeyk would always say, wrapping little arms around his dad. "Scary, daddy."
"I know," his dad would say, his racing heart calming once more. "Me too."
So now he's got to sleep between people to make sure he doesn't escape at night. After he managed to escape Hometree five times in a daze without anyone knowing how he did it, that was enough for his parents. Now he sleeps tucked into a family pile so that he can't escape without people noticing.
"What you did with Tsu'tey," she says softly, drawing his eyes back to her. "Tsyeyk, did you know that you could do that?"
Tsyeyk frowns at her. "Tu'tey?"
She brings a single finger and places it on his skin. "When you healed him, little love, did you know that you could?"
Tsyeyk doesn't understand. He reaches down and touches the finger she put on his chest, poking it with his own. "Sleepy?"
Mom smiles faintly. "Made Tsu'tey owies go away?"
His little ears perk at that, glancing up at her as he shifts more onto his back. "Tu'tey owies?"
Mom nods. "You made the owies go away on Tsu'tey," she says quietly.
Tsyeyk smiles, tail swaying and curling as he kicks his legs in the air. "No more owies!" Mom and dad both softly hush him and his giggles. He shushes back at them before turning toward his mom completely and curling up a bit to yawn. Then, quieter, he whispers to her, "Mother made light."
Mom's eyes flash, even in the dense darkness around them. She was mama and mommy and sometimes, rarely, just mom. But there was another that was solely Mother to Tsyeyk. Even dad stiffens, his eyes widening at the mention of her. His breath catching slightly as if he didn't want to be too loud. He didn't want to drown out Tsyeyk's soft words.
"Mother made light," Mom repeats, scanning Tsyeyk's little face. "What do you mean?"
Tsyeyk pulls her hand to his chest and closes his eyes, smiling. There is nothing to fix, nothing to heal, but Tsyeyk can still feel it. And he knows that mom is strongly linked to Mother, and she could probably feel it too. She had never asked him before, so he never thought to show her. But she wanted to see now, and he was happy to show her. His second set of freckles light up as he summons the light inside of him, focusing on the love and warmth that radiates from it.
His mom gasps, the hand touching his chest shakes slightly. In the darkness, Tsyeyk can see a growing light behind his eyelids. Nothing too great, like the dull embers in a fire that's going out, but still seemingly drastic in the blanket of blackness that once surrounded them.
It's dim, soft, not anything like Mother's light. Her light is all encompassing, bigger than Tsyeyk's entire world. His light truly the size of a single ember compared to his mother's magnificence. Blinding, brilliant, bright. But his little ember is enough for mom, it seems. She holds him close, kissing his forehead and whispering soft words of love to him.
His light dims out and it drawls a sagging of his little shoulders as he curls up into her arms, fitting perfectly. He wraps his arms around her and closes his eyes. He yawns again, tucking under her chin as the secondary light of his body darkens once more and his body relaxes.
"You are a very special little boy," his mom whispers softly. "Sweet parultsyip..."
Tension bleeds from Tsyeyk as his mind drifts into the darkness and his dreams swallow him whole.
Tsyeyk woke with his dad that morning, usually a late sleeper, like his sisters, but he was a bundle of energy, bouncing giddily despite trying to be quiet as his dad went from fighting to get him to go back to sleep to accepting that he was going to have to take him with him. Once his dad was ready for the day, he helped Tsyeyk get ready. His mom is awake, he knows it, because he keeps catching her smile and her tail curl in amusement every time his dad has to hush him for being too loud or pull him close as he bounces away in his excitement.
"Okay, come with me, son," his dad says, straightening the long necklaces that he placed on Tsyeyk and then taking his little hand. Tsyeyk bounces out with him, using his little hand wrapped around his dad's finger to keep from falling over.
His dad takes him with as he does his rounds. He checks in on the overnight watches, with the early morning hunters coming and going. Tsyeyk plays around his dad, running around him and the hunters, chasing around bugs and running between the legs of the gathered adults. There is a lot of head pats as he runs through their legs, occasionally slamming into someone's leg or tripping and hitting the ground with a hard "oof".
But before he can start to cry, his dad just leans down and picks him up, even as he bends like his spine is made of jelly and cradles him in his arms. He sniffles in his dad's arms but doesn't cry. He just stares up at his dad's face, who, after a brief glance and a light smile, looks back over at the hunters, stoic, hard expression returning to his face as he listens to them reporting back to him.
"...figure out where the demons came from," one of the hunters says, pulling Tsyeyk from his thoughts.
Tsyeyk blinks as his dad goes from cradling him light a baby to letting him sit upright in his arms. Tsyeyk wraps his arms around his dad's neck, resting his cheek on his shoulder. His dad isn't wearing his ceremonial Olo'eyktan cover, which is pretty rare, but he must have sensed that something like this might have happened. Which isn't too surprising seeing at Tsyeyk is still learning how to walk properly on two feet. He's getting so good at it, but Sylwanin calls him clumsy. His mom said he'll get better soon enough.
"They got into a strange looking ikran, it took off and they were gone, just like yesterday," another says, keeping his voice low.
"We don't know why they are here," the first one says. There is some shifting back and forth. "They come, poke at the flowers and the roots, then they just get back into their strange ikran and fly away."
"Where did these demons come from?" a female hunter asks, her voice shaken. Tsyeyk tenses at the strain in her voice, his little arms squeezing tightly around his dad's neck. His dad rubs at his back, soothingly.
"What do they want?" Another asks. "Are they here to hurt us?"
"I don't know," his dad admits. "We will simply have to continue to observe if they come back into our territory. There isn't a need for alarm yet. We will keep watch, we will stick together. Be vigilant. Watch the land and ensure the safety of our people."
There are some murmurs of understanding and agreement from the hunters around them. Although Tsyeyk's skin crawls along his back, which makes his dad rub at it again, trying to ease his worry. There is something about this that he can't wrap his little mind around. Well, there is a lot, actually. He doesn't know what a demon is, but it sounds really scary.
"What did the tsahik have to say about all of this?" the female hunter asks. "Has she yet convened with Eywa?"
"Mo'at went to convene with the Great Mother after seeing to Tsu'tey yesterday, but the Great Mother's message was... unclear, as far as I understand it," dad admits, carefully. "For now, we must be patient and see. We must locate where these strange beasts are coming from and figure out why they have come in the first place. Then we will decide what to do with them."
There are some grumbles, worry or disapproval, Tsyeyk doesn't know. He just pulls back a bit from his dad to look at his face, blinking at him in worry. He doesn't know what they are talking about, but he's scared - but it's not his fear, at least, not entirely. It's their fear. The fear of those around him. Emotions felt so strongly by people around him sometimes bleed into him - another part of the reason that his mom wanted to keep him away from the clan until he was better able to control himself.
"Scary, daddy," Tsyeyk says, ears pressing back as he looks into his dad's eyes. Like he spoke it into existence, the fear around them spikes, which makes Tsyeyk's skin crawl again which makes dad soothingly runs a hand up and down his spine again to sooth him.
"I know," dad says softly, turning away from the hunter both as an effective dismissal and to get Tsyeyk away from their heightened emotions, knowing what it does to him. He presses a gentle kiss onto the braids at his temple and then a little nuzzle when he turns his face towards him, seeking more comfort. "I know," he says again. "Me too."