Author's Note: Sorry about the wait!
Neteyam laughs, leaning into Lo'ak, who was clutching his side, leaning back into him. Their voices joining with the rest of the clan as they watch the play some one the young men and women have put together for then as entertainment while they are enjoying the evening supper. It's not a common occurrence, but sometimes the band will get together and play for them, or the kids will come up with a skit, or someone will sing, or in this case, a whole play will be put together for their amusement. It's a rare, welcomed occasion.
It's an old story told by song that they repurposed for the clan's amusement. Neteyam just marvels at their creativity, knowing he would never be able to just come up with this from a song and that it must have taken them weeks to put this all together in secret while still doing their duty to the clan. A true testament to their skills and hard work. And they got Ninat, the best singer in the clan to join, which is a real treat. And her son singing alongside her... it's beautiful.
"I love his voice," Neteyam rasps softly, leaning back on his hands as Tsireya, Rotxo and Ao'nung tentatively join them, crowding behind Neteyam and Lo'ak. He needs to give himself a second to digest. His appetite has finally returned full force, but his stomach has shrunk to the size of his eyes, so he doesn't want to push it.
"Who's?" Ao'nung asks, ears flicking a bit as someone shushes him for being too loud.
"Ebu," Neteyam says, nodding towards the boy about his age singing in sync with his mother. How they harmonize... so beautiful. "I could listen to him sing for hours."
"It's so good," Lo'ak agrees, leaning back on his hands too. He offers a smile to Tsireya from over his shoulder, who nods in agreement, her blue eyes wide in wonder. She saddles up close between and behind Lo'ak and Kiri, smiling at the former when his eyes meet her own.
Neteyam catches his dad, who smiles as Tonowari and Ronal sit beside them, lean in and whisper something to Kiri. She nods, smiling at Nanat as her voice just consumes the space around them. She leans in close to their dad, whispering back to him and he says something in agreement, running a hand over the back of her head in a loving caress. And by the way her eyes shine, Neteyam is willing to bet that whatever their dad said, it might have had something to do with Kiri's biological mother, Grace. She usually gets that look whenever she's mentioned.
As Ninat's voice trails off, the verse she and her son sang comes to life as the actors continue with the play.
Leaning back as he is, he feels Ao'nung press against him for a moment before pulling away to give him space once more. Before Neteyam can turn to ask if something was wrong, he catches sight of a few Sky People slipping through the crowd, moving to join a couple of Na'vi closer to the play. Neteyam's tail flicks in displeasure and he looks at Ao'nung, offering patient understanding despite the sadness hollowing his chest a bit.
The other boy doesn't seem to notice his gaze, too busy watching the Sky People, blue eyes dark and mistrustful.
It won't be easy. It might never be. They need time, no matter how Neteyam feels about it. Two months here isn't enough time for them and that's understandable. He had to leave his home too to come live here, sure, but he didn't watch it burn around him. He didn't watch his people die. At least, not there. Not in his home. It's not the same, so he doesn't have the right to an opinion.
He'll just... be here. Should they need him, of course.
Neteyam sings the hymn softly under his breath alongside Ninat and her son. He can hear others around him also singing along, quietly so that they can still hear and not disrupt those around them. Neteyam catches sight of his grandmother, watching from the sidelines with one of her aid's, slightly swaying and mouthing the hymn with obvious love in her eyes.
Neteyam knew it was one of her favorites.
"I like your voice," Ao'nung says after a few moments of listening. Neteyam smiled at him from over his shoulder.
"You're too kind, but I am a horrible singer." He laughs softly. He tips his head back to shake out his braids a bit, feeling the ever so slight pull at his stomach and back from his wound, but it is bothering him less and less with each passing day. It's closed up now, and hopefully in the days, or weeks, to come, his grandmother will let him finally be free of constant check-ups and medicine and upkeep with his leaves.
He'll be free!
He leans forward again to pick at his food. He grabs a piece of meat and then a piece of fruit, tossing both into his mouth, humming to himself. He enjoyed the dichotomy of the sweet fruit and the dried meat. Even if Lo'ak shot him a degusted look in the corner of his eye.
"Don't say that Neteyam," Tsireya says kindly.
Before he can comment, the singing stops, and they continue on with the play.
Neteyam listens to Lo'ak's soft voice as he tells the former Metkayina behind them about the story behind the song seeing as they missed part of it. He feels Ao'nung's eyes on him every once and a while, but the other teen avoids eye contact whenever Neteyam would lean back to look at him. So, Neteyam was content to just let him stare if he had nothing to say.
Neteyam admires the stick in his hand that he took from Hometree. It's perfect. He can't wait to get back to First Base and begin carving it into a new bow. He sorely missed his old one, but it was destroyed protecting his siblings and he can't think of a better way to lose it. It felt strong and sturdy in his hands and he knew it was going to make an excellent bow before his mom had even whispered it into his ear, grinning with pride.
They are making their way back to field to call out their ikran, they've been out all day, climbing up trees and balancing on the roots and branches. They were all tired and running on fumes. They had been very close to Hometree, so while the Metkayina had rested, Neteyam went again to see if he could find a suitable piece of wood to make into a bow.
Neytiri came with him, talking to him as he searched, about how excited she was that his parents were talking about Lo'ak taking the final rite. The long night. They've been talking about how well he's been doing recently, and they are thinking about him finally being allowed to face the long night in a few months maybe, so long as he keeps up the good work.
Neteyam couldn't be prouder of his little brother. Neteyam had gone through the long night not long after he got his ikran, but his parents were worried that Lo'ak wasn't ready yet. Honestly, Neteyam thinks that he scared them. His vision from Eywa had been so scattered, so intense that he wasn't able to make it out for two days. He dreamed of an alternate life, like images flashing through his mind but none of it made any sense to him. Too fast, too intense. The only thing that he could remember, was water. So much of it, as far as the eye could see.
But nothing else stuck with him as strongly as the water, the sound of waves, even the smell so distinctly different than water in the forest. And as the years have gone by, the memories, however vague, have since continued to fade more and more with time.
Grandmother wasn't sure of what to think of it, aside from the fact that it would become clear in time, and a part of Neteyam had to wonder if it already did. Could the Metkayina coming be that vision? Had he perhaps seen something that had to do with them? They came from the ocean, which would explain all of the water he could remember seeing. Maybe he saw them all those years ago so that he would feel vindicated in helping them even after Talsheeze nearly killed his dad. He's not sure, but perhaps it was.
"What's that for?"
Neteyam blinks out of his thoughts to look at Ao'nung, who moved up next to him. Neteyam follows his gaze to the stick in his hand.
"Oh, I'm going to use it to make a new bow. I broke the last one during that fight with the thanatar," he reminds the other teen. He flinches, glancing over the teal boy's shoulder to see the look his dad and mom were giving him from a few paces back, both reminding him that they haven't forgotten about that either. He's scared to look around to see if his papa is around somewhere close by to hear.
"I remember..." Ao'nung says slowly, looking at the stick for a long moment before asking, "Are we going to learn how to use the bow?"
Neteyam nods. "Yes, thankfully we of the Omatikaya use bows and spears, which you thankfully already know, so you're already ahead of the lessons there. But we'll get you guys on training bows at some point."
Ao'nung nods too, eyes scanning the forest in front of them in silence for a few minutes before finally, he looks at Neteyam and says, softly, "Thank you."
Neteyam's ears perk at that. "For what?"
Ao'nung swallows, hesitating, before rolling his shoulders back and saying, "The attack by the Sky People... the... it... it was aimed at me."
Neteyam frowns, tilting his head at that. "What?"
"You moved me out of the way," Ao'nung says, throat working. "When they flung their metal, your hip hit my face, moved me out of the way of..." he swallows. "If you hadn't..."
Realization dawns on him and Neteyam has to wonder how true that was. He doesn't remember hitting Ao'nung with his hip, and even if he did, it certainly hadn't been on purpose - not that he's not grateful if that's true.
"You don't have to thank me," Neteyam says softly. "I moved on instinct." He wasn't going to say that it wasn't on purpose - at least not in those words - because that seemed almost cruel and not what Neteyam wants it to seem like.
Had this been what he's been trying to say this whole time? Wanting to thank Neteyam for this?
"You saved my life," Ao'nung says softly, his hands shaking a bit, so he clenches them into fists when Neteyam looks at them. Neteyam is quiet for a moment, just trying to absorb the weight that the other teen must feel. It was like that day, when that hunter saved his life at the cost of his own, except Neteyam didn't die. He's alive, and here. It's not the same.
"You don't have to thank me," Neteyam says, scanning the forest for any dangers, thankfully still seeing nothing.
"If you didn't move my head, I would be... I would be dead," he rasps, shoulders pulling in, eyes wide in fear.
Neteyam doesn't really remember. He was sick, exhausted, and it all happened so fast. He doesn't want to discount the other teen's feelings, and he's obviously been building up the courage to talk about it for weeks now. So, instead, he listens. He listens to everything that Ao'nung can bring himself to say, and even though Neteyam doesn't believe he deserved to be thanked. He's been needing to talk about this and Neteyam can understand that. He's been doing everything he can to honestly avoid talking about it as much as he can.
But maybe it's true and Ao'nung almost died. Was almost shot in the face by that bullet. It hurt Neteyam, but it could have - probably would have - killed Ao'nung. That's scary and no doubt something that has been lingering with the other teen for a long time now.
So, Neteyam let him talk. Let his quiet voice follow him back to the field, and once they made it there and called for the ikran, Aphrodite showing up even though Neteyam still wasn't quite ready to ride her yet, Neteyam finally turned to the other teen, placed a hand on his shoulder and softly said, "I'm glad that it all worked out. I'm glad that we're both here."
Right or wrong, Ao'nung said nothing more about it for the rest of the day.
But suddenly, despite himself, Neteyam grew anxious.
Neteyam woke up, gasping for air, behind his eyelids the approaching ground, the screams of his companions in his ears, his ikran, the imaginary water spraying against his skin now turned to sweat. It's garbled, disjoined. He's descending too quickly towards the shot, and yet, a shot fires off in his ears and he feels it strike him. He sat up, side throbbing in pain in tandem with his heart as his eyes flicker around in the darkness of his family's hut. It takes him a moment to hear Lo'ak's soft snoring next to him and Tuk mumbling into Kiri's shoulder.
Overheated and overwhelmed, Neteyam detangles from his siblings and slips out of the family hut as quickly as possible, his limbs trembling as he goes. He places his hand over the leaves at his side, hissing as the ghostly pain is mirrored by real pain. He's healing, he knows. He still needs time, but the dream brought the memory of the original agony that the bullet had wrought right back to the forefront of his mind.
"You okay, Neteyam?"
Neteyam jumps, clutching his side, looking over his shoulder to see his dad standing at the entrance way to their hut, rubbing wearily at his face. His voice is rough with sleep and he's squinting in the dim light with one eye. It's early, maybe an hour or two before his parents would normally get up and start their day.
"I'm sorry, dad, I didn't mean to wake you."
"It's okay," Jake says, shaking his head as he steps out of the threshold and over to his eldest. "Bad dream?"
"Yes, sir, but I'm okay."
Jake rubs at the back of his head, letting out a little sigh. "Neteyam, when we aren't... when it's not about war or fighting on the battlefield... I... please don't call me, 'sir'."
Neteyam blinks in surprise, turning completely to face his dad, tilting his head. "Oh, I'm sorry. I... I guess I hadn't..."
Jake shakes his head. "No, Neteyam, it's not you. It's me. I've just been so wrapped up in this war that I forget to treat you boys like my sons, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I've let you down."
Neteyam bulks at that. "You haven't let me down," Neteyam insists. "You can't just be our dad in war, and you're more than that outside of war." He wraps his arms around himself, feeling uncomfortable and still uneasy. His side has thankfully just gone from a painful sharp pain down to a dull throb. "You are also our Olo'eyktan, you should be treated with respect. It's normal."
Jake sighs, rubbing at his forehead. He reaches out, taking Neteyam's hand and leading him over to some logs to sit down at just outside of their hut. Neteyam lowers tentatively, even though his side is mostly healed it is still extremely tender and still needed to be looked after by his grandmother, but he was getting better, which he was thankful for.
"Yes," Jake finally says after taking a moment to collect himself. "You should respect me as your father and Olo'eyktan, but I should also respect you. And I just..." he sighs. "I don't know how to say this. I just... I forget, sometimes. I forget that I'm not usually like this. I'm used to loss, and I handle it by locking down before it hurts me. When I was young, my parents died, one after another, and I didn't cry. I just figured out how to move on without it. And I lost friends in the war, on Earth. I hardened myself to it then too. Lost my legs and just... learned how to be okay with it. Then I lost my brother and coped by taking his place."
Neteyam is quiet, just listening. His dad doesn't talk much about his past. He knew that his dad preferred to leave that life behind him, always feeling like it haunted him, chased him around endlessly. Something about how his dad seems to associate his life now as something that he stole from his brother hurts Neteyam. Like somehow the happiness that he gets from this life with his mates, his children, isn't something that belongs to him.
Neteyam didn't want to think about how similar that was to himself. How he would much rather just forget about it than to be upset. He knew that he was shot and that it was horrible and everyone seems to be waiting for him to react, but he doesn't. He buries it, deep within. Just like his dad. He was like that the first time he saw someone die - that hunter, for him. It lay dormant in him for months before the nightmares started, before his brain suddenly seemed to remember that something horrible happened right in front of him.
He had lost track on how many times he woke up screaming, crying. His papa would hold him close and rock him back and forth as he cried. Or his dad would rub at his braids or pet down his back. Or his mom would softly sing to him, peppering his face and his hair in kisses.
"Dad..." Neteyam says softly pulling from his memories, unnerved. He turns his knees so that they touch Jake's, reaching out to take his hand and holding it tightly between his own. "Dad..." he says again because there was just so much to unpack with what he said. So many things that he could touch upon, but he feels someone sit down on his other side. He glances over to see his papa sitting down with him.
With one hand on his knee and the other on his back, his papa kisses his braids as he turns back to his dad. He takes a moment, trying to find the words, before softly saying, "You are wonderful, dad. You know this, right? We are so lucky to have you. I am so thankful that you are my dad."
Jake lets out a huff, shaking his head. "Baby, I didn't say this to make you feel bad, or like you have to say anything to make me feel better. I just..." he sighs. "I just know that I could be better for you. You and your brother specifically. I know I'm very hard on you. On both of you, more than your sisters. More than even Spider. I just..." he rubs his forehead with the hand that isn't being held by Neteyam. "I worry about you kids, all of you. But you boys... Lo'ak is just like me, which spells trouble enough."
Neteyam smiles at that, squeezing his dad's hand. His smile fades a bit as he softly says, "But I am not... like you."
Jake stares at him, contemplating before scooting closer and saying, "You are like me. In different ways that Lo'ak is. But you are more like your papa. Which is a gift in itself."
"You aren't bad," Neteyam argues, voice raspy. Thankfully the shaking has stopped. "Why is it so wrong to be like you?"
Jake looks away, eyes searching the darkness of First Base, watching the moving shadows of the clan, those that are awake at this horrible hour. He looks back over at Neteyam and there is shame shining in his eyes. "I hurt you, Neteyam."
Neteyam blinks at that, confused. "No, you didn't."
Jake takes both of Neteyam's hands in his, sparing a quick look at Tsu'tey before turning back to Neteyam and continuing, "I hurt your feelings that day in the forest. I was so mad that I said something I didn't mean. I was so focused on disciplining you kids that I never realized that you were sick until Tuk said it. I neglected you and your health and I'm sorry, Neteyam. I'm sorry I hurt you and I'm sorry it took me so long to say it."
"You had every right to be upset," Neteyam says, creases forming between his eyes. "I knew going out there that I was going to get into trouble, and I know that I disappointed you for so many things. Letting Lo'ak, Spider and Tuk go while under my watch. Chasing after them without telling anyone. Forgetting my mic. I did so much to make you upset at me, you shouldn't be sorry for that. It was my fault."
"A lot of things went wrong," Jake amends, letting out a little sigh like this wasn't going the way that he wanted. "But the fact of it is that I should have made sure you kids were alright before even thinking about discipline."
"But we were," Neteyam says shortly. "We were all okay. No one was hurt. I just had a little cold. I didn't get shot until later." Neteyam regretted the words as soon as they left his lips.
He felt both his biological parents flinch at his words.
"I thought that I'd lost you," Jake says so softly that Neteyam almost didn't hear him. This vulnerable look crosses over his face and Tsu'tey presses close, kissing Neteyam's shoulder while the arm at his back wraps around him more securely, as if they still could lose him. "I thought," Jake swallows, squeezing his hands tightly. He looks away, as if ashamed. "I thought that you were going to... and the last thing I said to you was that I was disappointed in you, which couldn't be further from the truth, Neteyam. I am so proud of the young man that you're growing into."
"I know," Neteyam says softly, pulling one hand from Jake's vice grip to turn his chin back towards him, seeing the misting in his dad's eyes. "I know you didn't say it to hurt me. I'm not upset about it. I know you were right to be upset and that's why I was hurt. It was my fault."
"We all make mistakes," Jake says softly, blinking rapidly. "You just so rarely do that sometimes I forget. I'm sorry I'm so hard on you, Neteyam. I guess... in a way, I know that you can't always be treated like everyone else, like your siblings, so I overcompensate by giving you more responsibility than I should. Forcing it on you so that everyone can see you as I do."
"You don't want people to see that I'm weak," Neteyam offers.
Jake frowns, shaking his head as Tsu'tey squeezes Neteyam's leg and ribs. "You aren't weak, Neteyam. In fact, you are probably one of the strongest people I have ever met, and I am fortunate that you're my son."
"So, it is the same for both of us," Neteyam says softly. Jake hesitates, then he reaches up to cup Neteyam's face, drawing him close so that he can kiss his forehead.
A series of emotions flicker across his face before he lets him go. "Do you feel well enough to get a few more hours of sleep?"
Neteyam nods slowly. "I do..."
"Okay," Jake says, standing up. "Come on, back to bed, let's go."
"Come, but only as far as you dare to travel," Neteyam says, looking between the gathered former Metkayina. His siblings, uncle, parents and fellow clan members all gather around, shifting slightly, waiting.
Ronal is not with them now, as she is on loan to Mo'at, as three Tsahik come together to discuss the future of the clan. Events they want to incorporate as well as what's coming up, and how the Metkayina being there alters the dynamic of the clan, even if only a little bit. Ronal had expressed interest in continuing her duties, and keeping Tsireya as her Tsakarem for when the time comes.
Neteyam had no problem with that, and thankfully neither did his parents and grandmother. There was never too much spirituality to be had within the clan, and the people felt better having access to Tsahik of many different expertise and strength, seeking both medical assistance and spiritual guidance. Ronal had spent a lot of time learning all of the new ways to help tend wounds and see to sickness that presented themselves in the clan.
She seemed at ease going back to the position that she once held, even if it is now for the benefit of a different clan. And as she progressed further into her pregnancy, Neteyam felt better about her remaining at First Base until the baby was there, then she could continue with her training out in the forest. It's not like it is in the water, and while Ronal doesn't appear as though she's going to be slowing down any time soon, she's just pouring her energy into something else for the time being.
"Where are we going?" Zestira asks, eyeing the massive root spiraling up behind the eldest Sully child, disappearing into the trees behind them.
"Don't be afraid," Neteyam says, smiling softly. "It is not about the destination, but the journey. For three and a half months now, you have all been learning climbing and balance. This is your first test. Go only as far as you can. Then, when tomorrow comes, go a step further. And a step further than that." His words, while hoping to be soothing, seem to only make them more apprehensive. Neteyam scratches at his hairline, contemplating what to say. He gestures to the massive root behind him. "As we have been learning, the trees are a system all interconnected to one another. Like a web or the roots of a tree. But all of it is linked, turning the forest into one.
"There are roots that interconnect all across the forest for quicker travel," he continues. "Roots like this one can go far taking you to an entirely new part of the land, so you have to learn which ones will more safely assist you in getting to which destination. The forest floor is always going to be more dangerous, as more beasts travel there, but never forget the dangers that lie all around you, even from this height."
Their eyes travel along the root as it steadily ascends upward and disappears between the trees. He can sense their anxiety. They are getting climbing and balance down well enough that Neteyam is confident in letting them try to push themselves harder and further. He recognizes that he's been extremely easy on his many students, but he also knows that they have a significantly different set of hurdles to overcome that no one in the forest would have to. So, he believes that his actions are appropriate. Even while his parents tease him for being a gentle teacher, they don't criticize him. They tell him that he must follow his instincts.
"When I was young," Neteyam says slowly, drawing their eyes back to him, "I walked this very same root with my papa."
Tsu'tey smiles in remembrance, his hands resting on Spider's shoulders. "You were seven at the time."
Neteyam nods slowly. "He told me that there was something beautiful waiting on the other side. I just needed to get there. And I needed to do it on my own. Sure, he held my hand, a luxury that unfortunately won't be shared," he says, grinning playfully at the murmurs of amusement around him, "but I walked it all on my own. As far as I could, each day. Then, when I would get too scared or my legs too tired, we would go back and start again. Every day until I finally made it to the end."
"What's on the other side?" Rotxo asks.
Neteyam brings a finger to his lips. "It's a secret. You will have to make it there to see."
"Did you have to do it?" Tsireya asks Lo'ak, tilting her head a bit.
Lo'ak nods. "Papa took all of us out here. Lots of parents use it teach their kids stamina and facing your fears." Lo'ak bulks, catching himself too late.
"Yeah! Papa took me out there a little while ago!" Tuk exclaims, swinging between Arvok and Tarsem's hands.
Kiri rolls her eyes at Lo'ak from Neytiri's side as Tsuy'asha shifts nervously, asking, "Facing our fears? What fears?"
"You'll see," Neteyam says easily. "Just trust in yourself, and when you can go no further, we'll go back and start again." He places his hands on his chest. "The destination will be a wonderful experience, but the journey is going to be well worth it for its many lessons. Really, this will show me what more you need to learn. Where you are struggling and what needs more refining. So, take to heart that I don't anticipate anyone making it to the end today."
Bobbing heads meet the end of his little speech, so Neteyam turns and makes his way up the root, listening to the significantly quieter footsteps of the former Metkayina following behind him, interspersed with Omatikaya to watch over them. And they ascend up and up and up, until the root levels out and they make their way deeper into the forest.