Chapter Text
The following days in the Metkayina clan turned into a slow and delicious rediscovery, as if Eywa herself had woven time so that every moment stretched and shone with intensity. My scientific routine intertwined with clan life: in the mornings I helped Tsireya and Rotxo collect marine resources—luminous shells, medicinal algae, corals that sang when touched—and in the afternoons I dove into deep reefs, noting bioluminescence patterns that seemed like coded messages from Eywa. The water was a new world for me: cold at first, then enveloping, like an infinite embrace. I learned to move my wide tail with grace, to make hand signals underwater, to hold my breath for entire minutes while floating among schools of fish that glowed like shooting stars.
Tsireya became a close friend, almost a sister. One morning, while practicing riding ilus in a calm lagoon, she looked at me curiously.
—At first you were stiff like a hometree branch —Tsireya said, laughing as her ilu circled mine—. Now you flow. Is it the science or something more?
I smiled, guiding my ilu to swim parallel to hers. —A bit of both. The sea is teaching me patience. And... seeing the Sullys again reminds me why I'm here.
She arched an eyebrow, playful. —Especially a certain warrior, right? Lo'ak doesn't stop talking about you when he thinks no one is listening.
I blushed beneath my blue skin. —We're just old friends.
Tsireya laughed harder. —Of course you're not "just" friends. His eyes follow you like a tulkun follows its spirit brother. Be careful, Elara; the ocean is deep, and so are feelings.
Aonung, of course, never missed a chance to tease. During a skimwing training session, where I was trying to stay upright on the swift creature, he approached surfing a perfect wave.
—Look at the forest scientist —he shouted over the roar of the water—. She looks like a drunk banshee!
I fell spectacularly, emerging spitting saltwater. —Very funny, Aonung! Come here and I'll show you how to really fall.
Lo'ak, watching from a nearby platform, jumped into the water and swam toward me quickly. He extended a hand to help me back onto the skimwing.
—Ignore him —he said, his voice low and protective—. He's just jealous because he can't collect samples without breaking them.
Aonung feigned indignation. —Hey! I'm delicate as a shell.
We all laughed, but I felt the warmth of Lo'ak's hand in mine a second longer than necessary before he let go. Those small moments accumulated: a lingering gaze during communal meals, an accidental brush of shoulders as we passed on the walkways, a smile that seemed reserved only for me.
The nights were for deep conversations. After dinner, when the clan sang around floating campfires and the stars reflected in the water like a second sky, Lo'ak and I would often slip away a little, walking along the beach or sitting on a net suspended over the waves. One of those nights, with the full moon silvering the sea, he took me to an underwater cave only he knew. We swam to a hidden air chamber, where bioluminescent crystals covered the walls like an inverted starry sky.
—This is incredible —I whispered, turning slowly to absorb the pulsing blue and green light around us.
Lo'ak sat on a flat rock, water dripping from his braided hair. —I found it months ago, when I needed to be alone. Now I wanted to share it with you.
We stayed silent for a while, only the sound of the sea filtering in from the entrance.
—How has it really been for you? —I finally asked—. Leaving the jungle, adapting to the water... it can't have been easy.
He sighed, looking at the crystals. —At first I hated it. I felt like I was losing a part of myself. The jungle was my home, my roots. Here everything is... fluid, changing. But then I understood that Eywa isn't only in the trees. She's in the waves, in the tulkuns, in every breath underwater. It's made me stronger, I think.
I looked at him, seeing the maturity in the line of his jaw, in the way his new tattoos told stories of Metkayina initiation. —You sound different, Lo'ak. More... centered.
He smiled sideways. —I've had time to grow. Eighteen years old now. I'm no longer the kid who sneaked into your lab to break things.
I laughed softly. —You were an adorable disaster.
His eyes met mine, intense. —And you always scolded me like an older sister. But I... never saw you exactly as a sister, Elara.
The air suddenly charged. I felt my pulse quicken. —Lo'ak...
He raised a hand, stopping me. —I'm not saying anything more tonight. I just wanted you to know. I've changed. And the way I look at you... has too.
I didn't respond, but the silence between us was eloquent. We swam back under the moonlight, and though we didn't speak of it again, something had changed irreversibly.
The following days brought more closeness. Lo'ak offered to be my personal guide on scientific expeditions: he took me to remote reefs, dove with me to collect difficult samples, held my vials while I noted data. His hands brushed mine more often—when passing a tool, helping me onto a platform, adjusting my diving gear. Each touch was brief, but it left a trace of warmth on my skin.
One afternoon, while exploring a lagoon full of luminous anemones, we surfaced laughing after a school of fish surrounded us like a whirlwind.
—You're good at this —Lo'ak said, wiping water from his eyes—. Better than I was when I arrived here.
I smiled, floating beside him. —I have a good teacher.
He moved a little closer than necessary, his face inches from mine. —I like teaching you. I like... being with you.
I felt my breath catch. —Lo'ak, I...
But Tsireya appeared then, calling us to help with dinner, breaking the tension. Lo'ak cursed softly, and I laughed nervously.
The comedy remained, especially with Aonung. One morning, while practicing underwater hunting signals, Aonung approached me with a flirty smile.
—Elara, if you need a more... experienced diving partner, I'm available —he said in an exaggeratedly seductive voice, flicking his fins.
Lo'ak, swimming nearby, pushed him with playful force. —Stay away, puffed-up fish. She already has a guide.
Aonung laughed, raising his hands. —Jealous, Sully! I was just offering friendly help.
Tsireya, Rotxo, and I burst into laughter, but I saw the possessive spark in Lo'ak's eyes. Later, when we surfaced, he looked at me with a mix of embarrassment and determination.
—Don't pay attention to him —he murmured—. He's just provoking.
I smiled. —And if it works? Are you... jealous?
He blushed slightly, something rare in him. —Maybe. I don't like seeing you with him.
My heart flipped. —Lo'ak...
Kiri, of course, saw everything. One night, while weaving nets together under the campfire light, she took my arm and pulled me aside a little.
—I've been watching —she said with that mysterious smile of hers—. You and my brother... something's growing there.
I rolled my eyes, feigning indifference. —We're just friends reuniting.
—Of course not —Kiri replied, laughing softly—. I just wanted to see how you were... with him. Lo'ak has changed a lot, Elara. He's suffered, he's matured. And he never stopped talking about you these years. Every letter we sent to potential allies, he asked if anyone had heard of the scientist Voss.
I felt a lump in my throat. —Really?
She nodded. —He's carried you in his heart all this time. Don't treat him like the kid you remember. Give him a chance to show you who he is now.
Kiri's words echoed in me for days.
The tension reached its peak during an expedition to a remote island to collect a rare medicinal plant that only grew on wind-exposed cliffs. Lo'ak insisted on accompanying me, and we set out at dawn on skimwings, surfing waves that lifted us as if we were flying. The island was wild: dense vegetation, screeching seabirds, and the scent of salt permeating everything.
We found the plant on a dangerous ledge, where waves crashed against the rocks below. I insisted on descending with a rope to collect it.
—It's too risky —Lo'ak said, his voice tense—. The currents here are treacherous.
—I need this sample, Lo'ak —I replied, already tying the rope—. I can handle it.
He grabbed my arm, stopping me. —You always do this. Risk yourself without thinking. What if something happens to you?
I pulled away, frustrated. —And you always act like you're still the reckless kid I had to save! I've survived alone for three years, Lo'ak. I know what I'm doing.
His eyes burned with contained emotion. —That's exactly what kills me! That you still see me as a kid. I've fought, I've lost friends, I've protected my family in exile. I'm not that boy anymore, Elara! When are you going to see it?
The wind whipped our hair, the waves roaring below. We stared at each other, breaths ragged, the world reduced to just us two.
—I've grown —he continued, his voice lowering, husky—. I've learned to control my impulsiveness... most of the time. I've found my place here. And I've waited... I've waited for you to come back so I could show you I can be more than the mischievous friend you remembered.
I felt my defenses crumble. —Lo'ak, I...
I didn't finish. He stepped forward, closing the distance, and kissed me.
It was a kiss born of years of repressed longing: his lips firm yet soft against mine, one hand on my nape guiding me, the other on my waist pulling me toward his warm, strong body. I responded instinctively, my arms wrapping around his neck, deepening the kiss as the world faded—the wind, the waves, everything. It was tender and passionate at once, a silent acknowledgment of all that had changed and all that had always been there.
When we parted, panting, he rested his forehead against mine.
—I told you —he whispered, a bold smile curving his lips—. I'm not a kid anymore.
I laughed softly, still trembling. —I see you, Lo'ak.
We kissed again, slower this time, savoring the moment. We collected the plant afterward, working as a team, hands brushing intentionally, gazes loaded with promises.
Back in the village, Kiri found us emerging from the sea, our hands discreetly intertwined. She arched an eyebrow, smiling conspiratorially.
—Of course I wasn't worried about you two —she said, laughing—. I just wanted to see if you'd finally admit it. Eywa has brought you together again for a reason.
Lo'ak squeezed my hand, and I smiled, feeling that, for the first time in years, I was exactly where I was meant to be: between jungle and sea, science and spirit, and in the arms of someone who had patiently waited for me to truly see him.
Our story was only beginning, and though human threats loomed on the horizon, in that moment, under Eywa's benevolent gaze, everything seemed possible.