Chapter Text
The next morning, Nyxarä woke up in high spirits and with renewed energy. The thick lethargy of the previous day had dissolved. Turning her head, she saw Nash still plunged in a deep sleep on her side of the marui. Her sister's breathing was heavy and rhythmic, a sign that the exhaustion of a week carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders was finally taking its toll.
Nyx was surprised to have slept through the entire afternoon and night without interruption, but the rest had been worth it. She attributed her miraculous recovery to the stew Nash’ira had prepared for her; the vegetables and her clan's ancestral recipe seemed to have worked well, restoring her balance and the strength in her legs. She stood up cautiously, checking that the dizziness had completely vanished. Taking advantage of the fact that the sun was just beginning to tint the horizon and that Nash would probably sleep for a couple more hours —Nyx knew that, after stress, her sister could sleep like a hibernating animal— she left the marui.
She had a clear goal: to find Neteyam. She was certain the Sully family would already be up; Neteyam had mentioned to her once that the Omaticaya, accustomed to life in the jungle, usually began their days much earlier than the sea people. When she reached the Sullys' marui, her suspicions were confirmed. The soft murmur of voices and the movement of shadows against the fabric indicated that the family was preparing for the day. Nyx did not enter immediately; she stayed at the entrance, just peeking her head in with a mix of shyness and expectation.
The first to see her was Neytiri. Neteyam’s mother approached her with a graceful speed, and before Nyx could utter a word, she took her hands in hers. Her palms were warm and strong.
—My child —Neytiri said, watching her with a tenderness Nyx hadn't expected—. I am sorry that my family and I overwhelmed you yesterday when you woke up. We were selfish not to let you breathe.
Nyxarä opened her mouth to protest, to say that no apology was necessary, but Neytiri interrupted her with a gentle squeeze of her hands.
—We wanted to thank you in person for everything you have done for this family. What you did... there are no words sufficient in our tongue to honor it.
At that moment, Jake Sully approached his wife, standing by her side. His presence was imposing, but his gaze was soft.
—We are in your debt, Nyx —Toruk Makto declared with a firm voice—. And we are very happy to see you up and well. You brought our son back when we had already given him up for lost, and that is something this family will never forget.
Neytiri nodded, and a lone tear rolled down her cheek as she continued:
—Consider yourself part of this family, my daughter. Both you and your sister are welcome in our home today and always. I know what it is to lose a home, the emptiness of leaving the land that saw you born. If there is anything, anything at all, that I can do for you, you only have to say it.
Nyxarä felt a knot in her throat. She had never expected such a level of warmth. The way Neytiri looked at her reminded her poignantly of the immense love of her own mother, a sense of protection she thought was lost forever.
—No, really, it’s not necessary —Nyx stammered, feeling her own eyes cloud over—. I didn't do it to gain your favor, or to get anything in return. I just... I had the chance to help and I couldn't stand idly by. You don't have to...
Jake interrupted her again, this time with a small smile.
—You were going to die, Nyxarä. Don't think your sister didn't tell us the gravity of the ritual. It’s a miracle you’re here breathing. Give yourself some credit, kid.
—I feel you still don’t realize the importance of what you did —Neytiri added, wiping away the tear—. The meaning it has for us is infinite.
Jake cleared his throat, breaking the solemnity of the moment a bit to make way for what Nyx was actually looking for.
—Neteyam is inside —he said, gesturing with his thumb toward the interior—. He’s still resting, but you can go in to say hello. I imagine you came for him, right?
Neytiri smiled knowingly, an expression that made her look much younger and less tired.
—Go in, daughter. Our home is your home. Children! —Neytiri called toward the interior, addressing Lo’ak, Kiri, Tuk and, after a brief pause and a somewhat resigned look, Spider—. Come, let's go out for a moment. There are things to do at the dock.
The kids came out one after another. They seemed to understand the situation perfectly, as they raised no objections. As they passed by Nyx, each gave her a look of respect; Lo’ak even gave her a small friendly nudge on the shoulder before following his father.
Nyx felt overwhelmed. She didn't see herself as a heroine; in her mind, she was just someone who had done what was necessary to not let a light as bright as Neteyam’s go out. When she was finally left alone in front of the entrance, she took a deep breath and entered.
The interior of the marui was cool. There, on his mat, Neteyam was still sleeping. Nyx froze for a moment, watching him. An involuntary, almost silly smile drew across her face. He looked so sweet like that, stripped of the "perfect son" and "responsible warrior" armor he always carried. His face was relaxed, and he finally looked healthy. It was nothing like the traumatic image on that rock, where blood covered his chest and his eyes were glassy. She approached quietly and sat by his side. She couldn't help it; she reached out a hand and brushed the tip of her fingers against the boy's cheek.
Neteyam, who had always been a light sleeper, opened his eyes instantly at the contact. His pupils dilated as he focused on her.
—Nyx... —he whispered, his voice raspy from sleep, but loaded with genuine surprise.
Before she could say "hello," Neteyam reacted with an urgency that left her breathless. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her toward him with a strength surprising for someone still recovering. Nyx ended up practically lying on top of him, trapped in a desperate hug.
—Teyam, be careful! Your wound! —she exclaimed, nervous, trying to support her weight on her elbows so as not to hurt him.
—I'm fine —he affirmed, hiding his face in the crook of the girl's neck and squeezing her tighter—. I'm fine thanks to you.
Nyx felt a warm dampness on her shoulder. Neteyam was crying silently. She pulled back a little to look him in the face, keeping their faces just centimeters apart.
—Does something hurt? Did I hurt you by falling on top of you? —she asked, her heart racing.
Neteyam shook his head, his eyes fixed on hers.
—How could you do it, Nyx? —he asked, and his tone shifted from sweetness to a contained desperation.
—What are you talking about?
—Narä, they told me everything —he explained, using a pleading tone—. They told me you were going to die. Were you really going to leave it all behind—your life, your future—just to save me? How could you think of doing something so reckless? Don't get me wrong, I like being alive and I am eternally grateful, but it wasn't necessary for you to sacrifice yourself like that. Your sister needs you.
Nyx cursed Nash’ira internally for being such a bigmouth and telling everyone the details of the Anahari ritual. But then, the word he had used resonated in her head.
—Wait... What did you call me?
Neteyam turned a deep shade of purple instantly, realizing his slip.
—It's... it's just a nickname. I’m sorry if it bothered you, I won’t say it again...
—It’s okay —she interrupted him with a soft smile—. "Narä." I like how it sounds coming from you.
The atmosphere changed suddenly. Both became aware of how close they were, of how their bodies fit together. As if they had been burned, they pulled apart a bit, pushing themselves up until they were sitting facing each other, though their knees were still touching.
—Neteyam, listen —Nyx said, regaining her seriousness—. When I saw you on that rock, lifeless... it wasn't a hard choice. I’m sure you would have done the same for me if the roles had been reversed.
—That’s beside the point —he replied, shaking his head—. You have no idea the sadness I would feel if I had to live in a world where you are no longer here. I would be dead inside, Nyx, and no ritual would have saved me from that void. What would have happened if you didn't wake up? I feel like this life I have now is borrowed, that every breath I take is stolen from your own lungs.
—Don't be stubborn —she responded, starting to get annoyed by his headstrongness—. You have a family that loves you, siblings who need you, a home to return to, responsibilities... You have to fall in love, form your own family, see your people grow. You have so much ahead of you... In contrast, I... I only have Nash. And even if it hurts her and she won't admit it, she is strong; she would have gotten over it with time. I have no clan, no home. Our lives aren't worth the same, Neteyam.
Neteyam felt a sting of pain in his chest, and it wasn't the bullet wound.
—Don't you ever say that again —he stated with an authority that silenced her—. Your sister doesn't deserve that pain and you don't deserve to belittle yourself like that. Our lives are worth exactly the same. You are wonderful, Narä. You are an incredible warrior and a healer with a pure soul. Everyone here appreciates you... I love you. Oel Ngati Kameie, Nyx.
He leaned in and pressed his forehead against hers, closing his eyes.
—Please, promise me you won’t ever do something like that again. Not for me, not for anyone. Your life matters. You matter to me more than you think.
Nyx felt her defenses crumble before the sincerity of his words. She choked back a sob and clung to his chest, hugging him as if he were her only anchor.
—Fine —she whispered against his shoulder—, but you have to be more careful then. I don't want to have to use any more rituals on you.
Her hand went up to Neteyam’s chest, brushing delicately against the scar that was still finishing closing. He chuckled, a vibrant and warm sound, and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her back toward him. When they separated by just a few centimeters, the silence became dense, charged with an electricity that Nyx could feel almost physically. They could feel each other's breath hitting their lips.
—Narä... —Neteyam murmured, lowering his gaze toward her mouth—. There is something I have wanted to tell you for a long time. Something I should have said before the ship.
Nyx looked at him expectantly. The tension was almost unbearable, but beautiful.
—I... —Neteyam’s voice faltered, betrayed by nerves.
Nyx smiled with infinite tenderness. She shook her head to herself and decided they had waited long enough. She leaned across the remaining space separating them and joined her lips with his in a tender and soft kiss. Neteyam froze for half a second, just enough time for his brain to process that it wasn't a dream. He returned the kiss with a contained urgency, moving one hand to Nyx’s cheek to caress it, preventing her from pulling away, while the other sank into her waist, pulling her with such momentum that she ended up sitting in his lap.
The kiss changed. It stopped being a timid brush to become something intense and deep, a language without words where both poured out all the fear of loss and the relief of survival. It was a kiss that tasted of the longing they had been suppressing since they met on the beach. Nyx tangled her fingers in the braids at the nape of Neteyam’s neck, while he sighed against her lips, melting into an encounter that seemed to reclaim every second that fate had almost snatched away. In that marui, surrounded by the silence of the morning, the outside world ceased to exist; there were only the two of them.
After a few seconds that seemed suspended in time, both pulled apart slowly. The air in the marui felt denser. Their breaths were agitated, ragged, and the sound of their breathing mixing was the only thing breaking the sepulchral silence of the morning. Neteyam did not look away from her. His golden eyes shone with a new intensity, a mixture of relief and an adoration he no longer tried to hide. With a tender gesture, he reached his hand toward the young woman's face, brushing away a strand of white hair that had come loose during the kiss.
—You are perfect —he whispered, his voice still a bit raspy—. You are absolutely perfect, Narä.
Nyxarä let out a nervous giggle, looking down as she felt the heat in her cheeks intensify. The blush was so deep she could feel the throb of her own pulse in her temples. She couldn't believe that had actually happened; after so many days of uncertainty and pain, the contact of Neteyam’s lips felt like a dream she feared waking up from.
—Don't say those things —she murmured, playing with her own fingers on Neteyam’s lap.
—But it’s the truth —he replied, his smile widening until showing his teeth—. Because I only see the woman who gave me back my life in more ways than one.
The atmosphere became a bit heavier, but this time from shyness. Nyx realized she was still sitting on his legs and, with a somewhat clumsy movement, she slid to one side to sit in front of him on the mat. Both avoided each other's gaze for a second, suddenly feeling like two children who had been caught in some mischief. Neteyam cleared his throat, scratching the back of his neck with his healthy hand.
—Listen —he began, regaining some composure, though his ears were still lowered from embarrassment—. I know things have been... chaotic. Too fast. But what I said before, about loving you... I meant it. I’ve never felt this way about anyone, Nyx.
He took a breath, trying to find the right words to follow the traditions of his people, even being so far from home.
—I want to do things right. I don't want this to be just something that happened because we almost died. I want... —he stopped, looking at his hands before looking back at her with determination—. I want to ask your permission to court you officially. I want my parents and yours, well... —he hesitated, cursing himself for the misplaced comment, remembering Narä’s parents were dead— uh... and Nash’ira... to know that my intentions with you are true.
Nyxarä listened to him in silence, her heart turning over in her chest. She was moved by the seriousness with which he treated the matter, the chivalry that had always characterized him even in the most vulnerable moments. However, she couldn't help a spark of mischief shining in her eyes. She let out a soft laugh, one that made Neteyam furrow his brow, confused.
—What are you laughing at? —he asked, half offended, half amused.
—At you, ma’Teyam —she responded through laughter, pointing at his chest—. You ask me for permission to court me right now, when you can barely move without your heart giving out. Look at you, you’re pale and you can barely hold the weight of your own arm.
Neteyam opened his mouth to protest, but Nyx put a finger over his lips, silencing him.
—First you have to get well —she continued, softening her tone—. You can't go around bringing me gifts or hunting for me if you faint halfway there. An Anahari courtship is no small thing, and I doubt my sister will make it easy for you if she sees you this weak. So, my mighty warrior, my answer is that you must wait. Recover, become the Neteyam who can beat me in an Ilu race again, and then... then I will accept your courtship.
Neteyam stayed looking at her for a moment, processing her words, and finally let out a laugh that ended in a small wince of pain as he felt the tug on his wound. He moved his hand to his chest, laughing at his own situation.
—You’re right —he admitted, surrendering—. I suppose it’s not very impressive that my first act of courtship is asking you to help me sit up. I’ll get well, Narä. I promise you. For you.
They spent a while longer like that, in silence, enjoying the peace surrounding them and the new and intimate complicity that had been forged between them. However, the sun was beginning to rise in the sky and Nyx felt a pang of concern.
—I must go —she said, letting go of his hand with reluctance—. I promised Ronal I would stay still in my marui and Nash will surely wake up soon. If the Tsahik finds out I escaped right after her warning, she’ll forbid me from leaving until I’m an old woman. And believe me, you don't want to see Ronal angry with me again.
Neteyam sighed, with an expression of discouragement that made him look much younger. His shoulders slumped slightly as he watched her prepare to stand up.
—So soon? I feel like we’ve barely talked for five minutes.
—You’ve talked enough to ask for a courtship and steal a kiss from me, powerful warrior —she teased, standing up carefully—. Rest. If you behave, maybe tomorrow I’ll be the one who comes to bring you something to eat.
Nyx walked toward the entrance, but before she could cross the reed curtain, she felt a firm tug on her arm. Neteyam, making an effort that pulled a wince of pain from him, but also one of determination, pulled her back toward him. He took her by the waist and, before she could protest his recklessness, he sealed her with one last kiss. It was a brief kiss, but possessive and loaded with a silent promise. When they broke apart, Neteyam gave her a lopsided smile, that smile of self-assurance that both irritated and pleased her at the same time.
—Now you can go —he murmured with a triumphant air.
Nyx shook her head, feigning annoyance as she adjusted her hair, though her heart beat with a force that reminded her that, indeed, she was more alive than ever. She left the marui with light steps, feeling that the path back to her home was much shorter than she remembered.