Chapter Text
When Lo’ak was twelve years old, it was time for his Iknimaya. Jake knew the boy was ready and extremely eager for this rite of passage, but he couldn’t help the terror he felt. He remembered a similar panicked feeling during his own Iknimaya; he couldn’t wrap his head around the idea of children doing the same. Though, he came to learn that fear was only a fraction of the fear he felt when it was Netayam’s time. Being a father had unlocked parts of Jake that he never knew existed, confronting the idea that there was a possibility of his child dying produced an all-encompassing horror within him. Neteyam’s Iknimaya had turned out well, as had Kiri’s, though the way she bonded with her ikran was completely unique. Soon after came Lo’ak’s turn. The little boy, with gaps still in his bright smile, could barely sit still as his mother painted him with the ceremonial paint. He was going to fly today, something he’d been dreaming of since his earliest memories. He was going to be just like his mom, his dad, his brother, and his sister; he was going to become a taronyu.
When he arrived at the Hallelujah Mountains, Lo’ak’s heart was racing so fast he was afraid it would burst out of his chest. He was wearing the same stripe of yellow paint across his forehead, walking in the same steps that all the Omatikaya had before him. His grandmother had assured him that Ewya would be with him, and he believed her. Lo’ak crossed behind the waterfall towards the ikran habitat and began to rely on the years' worth of training he had for what he knew was coming. At first, everything was going well; he could almost hear the prideful cheers of his ancestors as he navigated this encounter with an ikran. Then, the ikran bit Lo’ak’s right leg, and Jake’s heart stopped when he heard his son cry out in pain. He tried to rush forward towards Lo'ak, but Neytiri held him back with a strong hand on his chest.
“This is the way, ma Jake,” she told him, “He must overcome the danger.”
“He’s hurt, baby,” Jake insisted, still trying to move past her. This was the Omatikaya way, but right now, he was only concerned with Lo’ak’s safety. Since he was the olo'eyktan, he could call it off, couldn’t he? It was like Neytiri could hear Jake’s thoughts: she just shot her mate a firm look, a look that every husband could understand as ‘don’t you dare.’ Jake returned the look, silently asking his mate what other choice he had. Before the couple could argue any further, both of their heads snapped towards the edge of the cliff as they heard Lo’ak scream again. Oh, holy shit, their son had just fallen off the side of the cliff. Without another word, Jake and Neytiri sprang into action, both of them calling their ikrans and flying toward Lo’ak.
When Lo’ak finally woke up after being bandaged up by Mo’at and Kiri, his golden eyes locked with his father’s.
“I have to try again,” was the first thing he said, an edge of determination in his tone.
“You will, son,” Jake assured him, “but you have to heal first.” He gently dragged his thumb across Lo’ak’s cheek and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. Lo’ak tried to act disgusted over the display of affection, as boys his age were wont to do, but they both knew it meant a lot to him. Jake was struck with just how similar his son was to him. He could hear Neytiri’s voice in the back of his head: “Strong heart.” Lo’ak has the same heart, the same strength, and the same overwhelming, all-encompassing love for those he cares about. As proud as it made Jake, it scared him all the same. That kind of loyalty and compassion could easily be used against him. Jake promised himself he would do everything in his power to not let that happen.
“You have a strong heart, baby boy,” he whispered to his son, “You’re so much like your mother… and like me.” He watched Lo’ak’s ears flick forward, watched as his eyes fill with contentment.
Jake would picture that face a lot in the years to come. He wished he had the strength to comfort his son like he did back then. Even now, sitting in the shelter of the Tsahìk’s marui with Lo’ak’s right leg bandaged up much like it was all those years ago.