Chapter Text
The celebration that arose when night fell was…astonishing, to say the least.
Not long after being granted uturu, the discussion was held between Jake and the Olo'eyktan for a brief moment, dictating that lessons would start after three nights. To allow the Sully family to settle into their new home and meet a few people across Awa'atlu. The Tsahìk, however, was not thrilled and it was clear she wanted lessons to begin now, for the people of the forests to prove their worth. But it was clear that her mate, whose arm was slung around Jake's shoulder, parading him around, was excited to have the Toruk Makto in his home. One by one, each member of the Sully family followed a member of the chieftain's family, Neytiri following the Tsahik, Neteyam and Tuk following Tsireya, with Kiri stepping into a causal pace with a boy named Rotxo, likely another son of the chief's.
Leaving Ao'nung to help Lo'ak carry his things to their new marui.
The older teen stepped up to Lo'ak, extending a hand to help with the pouches and baskets that were being lifted off of ikran.
"So, you are the newcomer that I am supposed to teach." His voice was clipped, Ao'nung's tone obviously trying to make his presence seem stronger than it really was. Lo'ak could tell he was newly-presented, with the strong scent of sea salt, citrus, and a hint of sweet fruit filling the air between them. Apparently, he had taken after his father, presenting as a—
"You are tìtxur." The Omatikayan boy spoke plainly, saddling Ao'nung with the heaviest of the baskets while he carried a few baskets in his own arms. The Metkayina boy was taken aback at how blunt yet detached Lo'ak seemed, momentarily frozen before jogging to match his pace.
"Yes. Is that an issue for you, forest boy?"
There it was. Lo'ak finally knew why there was a weird feeling in his stomach. He was anticipating some kind of teasing, someone to make fun of who he was, where he came from. And for a malleable alphan teenager, next in line to lead his clan? The arrogance was almost as strong as the pubescent scent that kept coming in waves off of Ao'nung. It was sickening, nauseous, even, so Lo'ak decided to pay him no mind, not even answering his question. Especially because his mind realized that he did somewhat care about what these people thought of him. About what Ao'nung thought of him.
And his fever seemed to be stubborn. Lo'ak decided to speak to his mother about it once he reached their new home.
Stepping across woven walkways, dodging ilu whose heads stuck out of opening between the mauve tapestries, and watching for Na'vi who dove into the water without warning, the two teens eventually made it to the now-occupied marui that belonged to the Sully family. Their home for the indefinite future. How wonderful.
Lo'ak stepped inside, Ao'nung following close behind, setting things down on the last vacant snovini available for the taking. Giving his parents a look, Neytiri simply sighed in response, while Jake kept looking around the place, a smile plastered on his face. His mother held her father's bow in her arms, holding onto it like a lifeline, like the last piece of her home that she could rest in her hands. But Jake was more than ecstatic for a change of pace, something so close to the sea apparently. Tsireya was off in a corner, helping Neteyam, Kiri, and Tuk unpack, which prompted Ao'nung to place a hand on Lo'ak's shoulder, a silent question of if he wanted help.
That single, simple touch made the Omatikayan teen overheat hotter than he felt even standing on the beach. And that odd, sticky feeling made its way right back in the pit of his stomach. Like a flock of ikran that just wouldn't go away. Kneeling down, Lo'ak tried to distract himself, unpacking his knife, his cloak, and some of his other belongings, while he let Ao'nung handle blankets and clothing. With two pairs of hands, the work was done quickly and neatly, leaving an empty space that Ao'nung just had to fill.
"About your hands, forest boy…why do you have…?"
"Four fingers? Of all the things you could ask me, you ask about the one thing that is barely noticeable?"
It was clear that Ao'nung struck a nerve. But he was simply curious, and slightly…thrown off. Na'vi don't ever have four fingers, it was not how Eywa made them. But Lo'ak had four fingers. And so did Toruk Makto. The forest people let a demon-blood become their savior, their hero—
Before he could think any further, his mouth moved for him, not bothering to understand what he was about to say.
"Did I stutter? I asked a simple question. Why do you have four fingers? It is not that hard to answer." Ao'nung wasn't sure why his defenses went up. Why he suddenly became rude. It was a genuine question. And he needed to know before he could act on his impulses.
Earlier on the beach, he felt something. Probably something he could brush off as another part of the maturation process, all these new scents having an effect on him like they never had before, but seeing Lo'ak, looking so helpless, so lost, in the sunlight that showed off the mesmerizing pattern of his stripes, of his syuratan, so needy, it awakened something deep. Something instinctive, something that even Ao'nung didn't know what to do with.
But he couldn't be vulnerable. Not in front of the newcomer, and especially when he was probably going to be turn out like his alphan father. Their scents would clash, their bodies wouldn't want one another like they should. So, he retracted. Became brash, angry.
In the midst of his epiphany, Ao'nung realized he and Lo'ak were being held back by other members of the Sully family, hissing and reaching out for the other to attack without clear motives. Eventually, Jake was able to calm Ao'nung down long enough to get him to the entrance, where he, albeit disappointed, walked out of the Sully marui. Leaving Lo'ak to the mercy of his father.
Before he could get reprimanded, the Olo'eyktan, who Lo'ak realized dragged Ao'nung back towards the Sully marui for something important. The large, seemingly friendly Na'vi, stepped up to Jake, greeting everyone he could see and identify by name within the marui, before turning back to Jake, Ao'nung avoiding stepping inside for obvious reasons.
"Jakesully, you are Toruk Makto, and it would be wrong of myself and my people to not celebrate your presence among the Metkayina. Our finest warriors, dancers, and chefs are preparing a large feast for you and your family, to celebrate your arrival." The chief, whose name Lo'ak later learned to be Tonowari, was joyous as the news of the Rider of the Last Shadow choosing his clan to stay in spread across the oceans, while Jake was more or less…taken aback.
"Please, there is no need to do all of this—"
"But there is, Toruk Makto! You are a leader of many clans, a symbol of togetherness. You deserve this honor." Waving his decorated staff around for emphasis, the Olo'eyktan's shawl moved with his heavily-tattooed arms, each movement bringing a new pattern of waves in the bright orange threads.
With a sigh, Jake hesitantly nodded along to the plan as Tonowari spoke, Ao'nung leaving with the two of them, not even sparing Lo'ak a look as the three tìtxur left the entrance of the Sully marui.
Night fell quickly, with Jake returning just before sunset, urging his family to get ready for the celebration of their arrival, though the circumstances were anything but jovial. Neytiri was clearly irritated at the thought of having to put on a show for people who were just going to ogle at her family, judge her and her children like their Tsahìk did. But her mate seemed more and more excited at the thought of having the clan gathered like this, being able to properly introduce himself and his family to the clan that they would call home for however long they needed to.
All of the other Sully children seemed more or less ready to acclimatize to the new environment, to get used to how the reef people celebrate milestones. Lo'ak was indifferent, not truly caring about whether or not people would actually pay attention to him past his weird features, the parts of him that were human. He had hope once, but that was dashed as soon as Ao'nung opened his mouth to speak. At least there was something between now and the time Jake was going to lecture him about the whole hissing fit.
So, one thing to look forward to.
Everyone dressed as best they could, Neytiri wearing a new handmade top and tewng that were originally crafted for an upcoming Omatikayan festival, Tuk even deciding to match with her bracelets. Kiri and Neteyam weren't as pressed to keep up a front like their sa'nok, but they still looked decent. Jake just went how he was, deciding to add his war regalia since he was supposed to don the façade of Toruk Makto, and Lo'ak chose to wear a new necklace that Mo'at gifted him for his birthday. A set of intricately-carved wooden beads surrounded a large stone of amber, matching his eyes and catching the white-blue hue that settled across the ocean as Eclipse fell. It would be good enough.
The six Na'vi made their way to the center of Awa'atlu, where a large fire had been started in what seemed to be a ceremonial txeptseng, dancers and singers gathering, their bodies moving to the rhythm of large skin drums whose musicians played with true passion. The sound of the celebration itself engulfed all senses, the sights and sounds ringing in the heads of all six Omatikaya. Tuk immediately ran off with new friends she made earlier in the day, with Kiri branching off not long after to join Rotxo and a few of the other Metkayina teens near the cooking fire, watching the chefs put on a show. Jake and Neytiri, the latter nearly leaving marks with how hard she was grabbing her husband's arm, moved to gather by the fire with adults, leaving Lo'ak and Neteyam to wander towards the larger group of teens.
With no one except the chief's son himself front and center, entertaining at least four girls on each arm.
Repulsive.
Neteyam nearly had to drag his brother to join the group, the thick smell of young, newly presented tìreya engulfing every sense of the typically-disciplined eldest Sully. He quickly released Lo'ak's wrist from his hold, moving to join a few of the other teens that were in a cluster by the seashore, their demeanor clearly welcoming.
Before Lo'ak could even think about what he wanted to do, a piercing voice cut through the air. Just hours ago, he would've given everything to hear that voice. But now, it kept grating at the insides of his mind.
"Forest boy! Get over here and join us." Ao'nung's tone was cocky, adamant, leaving no room for discussion as the leader of the group that was gathered around him. Many of the other boys held smirks and laughs on their face. The Omatikayan teen moved hesitantly, the words of his father ringing in his head.
Socialize, make friends.
Open up, get to know the people of the village.
Stay out of trouble.
One of the boys offered Lo'ak a drink, a reddish-purple liquid in a hollowed out gourd, the smell of it flowery, warm, something that he'd seen Jake drink every so often.
Said teen, whose name Lo'ak couldn't care to learn, held up the swoasey ayll [lit. a large bowl meant to hold alcohol], clearly having indulged more than once himself. "Drink, tree-hugger. My father is a wine-maker, I managed to sneak some just for us tonight. It is not as potent as what the adults drink, but it will do."
A chorus of drunken laughter bubbled up in the group, immediately silencing as Ao'nung held up a hand and moved to stand, getting closer to Lo'ak, their chests nearly touching, the younger boy being able to almost hear Ao'nung's heartbeat if he listened in long enough.
"Come, sit. But you will not, lash out like you did earlier. Loosen up, and enjoy the night. Besides, this celebration is for you, pretty boy. You clearly take after your tawtute father anyway." The sudden command in Ao'nung's voice caught Lo'ak off guard, causing even his tail to still as the older boy rejoined the group, receiving praise from his followers as some began to whisper and jeer at Lo'ak as if he couldn't hear.
"You saw him obey? It is obvious what he will be when he presents."
"I cannot believe he and Toruk Makto look like the demons."
"Already listening to his tìtxur before even presenting, look at it."
"Pathetic."
Something snapped, breaking the rigidity that kept Lo'ak still, his hand dropping the cup as one fist curled and connected hard with the jaw of the boy who handed him the drink. In mere moments, he was able to recognize the drunken teen who dared to open his mouth, moving faster than any of the reef boys expected. Without thinking, Lo'ak simply moved, punching and fighting until he was sure the teen's jaw was broken and his eye was blackened. Surrounded, and outnumbered by seven boys, the Metkayina teens began a ruthless assault on the body of the Omatikayan teen, pulling his hair, legs, and tail, while others beat and kicked his body. Off by the shore, Neteyam immediately registered what was going on, scoffing loudly before landing right hooks on three of the boys. The two Sully boys quickly got to work through the group, leaving many of the reef teens battered and bruised. Neteyam managed to corner two that still stood, leaving Lo'ak to straddle the waist of Ao'nung as the two of them exchanged blows.
"You see…what these four fingers can do now?! Do you?" Not leaving any room for Ao'nung to speak, Lo'ak accentuated each word with another hit to the face, continuing until he couldn't any longer. Before he managed to reach that limit, however, four adults slowly made their way towards the two, one of them pulling him off of Ao'nung's bruised form. Realizing that he was being torn away from his goal, Lo'ak writhed and thrashed, trying to break free, no matter how much his sore spots and beaten form protested each movement.
"Lo'ak! Lo'ak, stop, boy!"
He recognized that voice.
It was Jake who held him back, it was Jake who tore him off of Ao'nung.
Coming to his senses, Lo'ak could see the Olo'eyktan and Tsahìk tending to their son, the latter quiet but clearly and rightfully angry that her oldest took such a hard beating. Neytiri quickly moved to speak to the Olo'eyktan, their conversation held in a series of hushed whispers, quiet for no one but them to hear. Setting Lo'ak down, Jake said nothing as he motioned with a quick nod of the head for his two sons to follow him, Neytiri putting a hand on Neteyam's shoulder as the four of them walked, seeing Tuk and Kiri already made it back to the marui, presumably getting ready to settle down for the night.
Lo'ak could practically smell the anger that came off of his father, Jake's head shaking ever so slightly, the walk from the beach to their home short but still incredibly humiliating. He knew that whatever was coming was harsh. But it didn't matter, not when pain coursed through every vein, every movement he made. He regrets getting into a fight, regrets escalating the situation as far as it went.
And yet, he felt satisfied, that could finally, shut Ao'nung up for once.
As Jake stepped inside, the scent of metal that seemed to linger in Lo'ak's every memory now, Neteyam followed suit, giving his brother one last look, trying to say that he will remediate whatever he could, to get their father off his back. Neytiri lingered for a moment, before turning to face Lo'ak.
"I do not condone this kind of fighting, my son. However," she started softly, resting a hand on his back, a proud smile beaming from Neytiri's face.
"I am proud that you stood up for your beliefs, for you way of life. You are strong, and no one can control you. Always remember that, ma 'itan." Departing with a kiss on his forehead, Neytiri left Lo'ak in his solitude, the wind picking up the beads threaded through his braids, their soft clicks helping him focus on disassociating before Jake was going to lecture him and hand out whatever punishment that came with the situation earlier.
The pain from the morning returned twofold, growing larger than just a discomfort that could be ignored. Lo'ak felt sick to his stomach, nausea rolling in waves, with a tugging sensation that felt like he was about to be torn in half. Trying his best to maintain an indifferent demeanor, he steps up onto the woven walkway in from of the Sully marui, where Tuk immediately ran up to him, giving his big brother a hug, like she knew he needed someone who wasn't upset at him.
Lifting her into his arms, thought every muscle screamed in protest, Lo'ak sat down in front of his parents, Jake absolutely fuming, the metallic scent in the air mixing with Neytiri's scent, the warmth of her herbal presence staving off any kind of nausea that would be caused by Jake's irritability. Slowly, not hesitantly but careful, deliberately, Jake stood, the sharp gaze in his eyes making Lo'ak stand too, having to put Tuk down beside him as she hid behind him.
"Lo'ak. With me. Now." Even Tuk could tell that something was going to happen, as her little tail wrapped around Lo'ak's leg, as if she was trying to protect her brother. Neytiri gave her son one last look, Neteyam even shaking his head, avoiding Jake's eyes, as Lo'ak stepped out of her hold gently, and made his way outside onto the soft white sand that surrounded them.
When he got over there, Jake was already pacing, his tail lashing in the slight breeze that decided to pick up, the sound of wooden beads hitting one another being loud enough to help Lo'ak dissociate from the lecture.
"Why the hell were you fighting the chief's son, Lo'ak?" He knew then that there would be no room for argument, no room for him to even explain himself.
"He made fun of me! Earlier he made fun of my fingers, then just now he and his friends said that I was obedient, that I knew who controlled me! I never meant to actually…to actually hit him or anyone, I meant—"
"This is not about what you meant, boy! It is about what you did, and that is why I got mad, understand? All I asked of you and your siblings was to behave, and not even one night in you pull something like this!"
There was no point in saying anything. It wouldn't change the punishment was going to be, what Jake was going to say. All Lo'ak could focus on was the returning pain that began to grow with the warmth in his stomach, his body becoming more and more feverish, sweating even with the sea breeze and the cool night air. Jake kept going, oblivious to what was happening to his son for the next few moments.
"I know this is hard on all of us, Lo'ak. On me, on your mother, on you, your brother, and your sisters. But just…please behave for me, okay? That is all I want—"
His attempt at an apology was met with a soft thud against the sand, Lo'ak falling and falling hard. His breathing was ragged, barely there, his body limp, and when Jake rushed to his side, calling out for Neytiri, he feared the worst. Was the change from the forest to the reef too much on his son's body? Was it something in the air? Did they need to see the Tsahìk?
Did he do this to his son?
Was he too harsh?
"Ma Jake! What happened to my son? Jake, answer me!" Neytiri sprinted out of the marui at the sound of her name, followed by Kiri, Neteyam told to stay behind with Tuk. Taking in the sight of her son, limp and cradled in her mate's arms only alarmed her more, her body fighting against the sand to get to him. As she knelt beside them, she could practically feel the heat radiating, off of Lo'ak, and pieces were slowly starting to fall into place. Looking up at Jake, then back at her son, whose head lay in her hands, she immediately turned to Kiri, dread engulfing the woman's features.
"Kiri. I need you to go get the Tsahìk. Now."
The young ke'u stood as fast as she could, knowing that kind of urgency in her mother's voice. Wasting no time, Kiri asked her way around the village, until she managed to get to Tsireya, who left with brother after seeing what happened between his friend group and Lo'ak. Tired and out of breath from working against the sand, she took a moment to catch her breath before speaking to Tsireya. The Tsakarem was clearly concerned for the girl in front of her, holding onto Kiri's arms to steady her.
"What is wrong? Are you alright?"
"No, I—Eywa, I…I need you to fetch the Tsahìk! It is…it is my brother, he needs help."
Without wasting time, Tsireya immediately grabs Kiri by the arm and leads her to the healing tents, the large central one being where Ronal and her apprentices tended to her son, his cries and protests growing louder with each new salve applied to his wounds. One look from her daughter was all it took for the Tsahìk to know that help was needed, and she followed dutifully with a pouch of herbs, two apprentices shadowing her in case they were needed. While Kiri led the group of Metkayina Na'vi to her lifeless brother, she tried her hardest to maintain a strong façade, to not let the people behind her have reason to think down upon her family any more than they already had. She hoped it would work, that because of this they would not make them leave, not when her family already left so much behind.
Her trance was broken as Ronal rushed in front of her, moving quickly to get to Lo'ak, who still hadn't regained consciousness in the long stretch of time it took for her to traverse the village. Tsireya stayed by her side, letting the older girl have a shoulder to lean on as the Tsahìk inspected Lo'ak, speaking to Jake and Neytiri, trying to form a course of action. She was still bothered that this thin Omatikaya boy managed to nearly behead her son with just his hands, but she needed to provide healing when it was needed most. Not emotion.
As soon as Ronal approached the three Omatikaya Na'vi, her mind knew almost immediately what was happening. But she did not want to alarm the newcomers her husband wanted to allow into their waters, nor did she know if the forest boy's body was simply unused to the heat. As she checked his body, she took in the oddly high temperature of his skin, the uneven pattern of his breath, and a familiar hardness of the area just beneath his stomach alongside the many bruises he had. Nothing was broken, thanks be to Eywa. Her face was stoic, unreadable, but within, her mind was panicking, thinking about the implications of what was happening. About how this should not be happening in her village, far from this child's home.
"Your son needs to be moved to a marui on the south side of the village."
No questions were asked. But there were hundreds that hung in the air as Jake lifted Lo'ak into his arms and followed the Tsahìk, her apprentices clearing a path through Awa'atlu as Neytiri followed behind, Kiri and Tsireya staying back for their own good, before Kiri broke down even further.
The Olo'eyktan met his mate and the three Sullys that followed behind her, understanding the urgency of the matter. Exchanging a glance, the two clan leaders formed a plan within a split second, Neytiri watching for a moment as the Olo'eyktan moved to presumably discuss the matter with the village elders. Inside the marui, clean and devoid of any scent, it was instantly filled with Neytiri and Jake's scents exuding fear and worry into every corner it touched. Obviously affecting the Tsahìk, the alphan woman quickly nodded toward the partially open entrance, needing the couple to let their scents out near fresh air if she was to work quickly. Her ritual of healing was meticulous, brewing teas that were meant to be cooled before ingestion, to help the body settle and its temperature to lower. After she and her apprentices were stable, Ronal stood, moving to speak with Neytiri and Jake outside of the potential earshot of Lo'ak, who was slowly regaining consciousness.
As soon as she stepped outside behind the worried couple, Jake immediately bombarded her was questions, the thick smell of metal rolling off him in waves, almost making Ronal want to give him a suppressant so her headache would go away. Neytiri was not far behind, continuously looking through the entrance to check on his progress.
"Is he okay? What happened? Was it the heat, or was it the flight in? Did he happen to eat something from anyone here? I know he got beat up pretty bad, but—"
"Jakesully, if you were to let yourself breathe, I could answer your questions."
Before she could speak, however, Neytiri immediately chimed in, her worry shining through in the now-rich earth scent that she kept emanating, a coping mechanism that was meant to soothe her or her children when something went awry.
"Is my son alright, Tsahìk? That is all we wish to know."
Ronal let out a sigh, not knowing how to best deliver the news.
"Your son, he is going through the process. It is time, he seems to be reaching his fourteenth cycle. The heat of my clan's village climate must have spurred it on or made his initial condition worse. His bruises have nothing to do with this."
The silence that followed her revelation seemed to be deafening. Jake was somewhat confused, hoping that the prognosis covered by the woman's vague wording was at least decent, Neytiri holding a death grip onto Jake's bicep as she processed the news. Ronal was most likely right, that the heat of Awa'atlu most likely forced Lo'ak into a fever. Brought his condition to the forefront of their family's worries.
His first cycle was upon them.
And it was detrimental.
"What…is there anything we can do? What brought this on so suddenly?" Jake was the one to break the tension, his mind struggling to wrap around the fact that his youngest son, his youngest for eight years, was undergoing his presentation. He also partially blamed himself, bringing this on Lo'ak with the sudden change of environment, the heat even getting to the older man at times. But his mind immediately fell back to the reprimand he was in the middle of giving Lo'ak when his son collapsed, guilt seeping into his core at the thought of being the cause of his suffering.
"There is nothing we can do but let him go through the pain. He will need his sa'sem by his side, and I will check on him in intervals, with fresh tea to help soothe the fever. When his body begins to undergo the sälatem, call me immediately. I have some medicine that can be spread over a cut to be absorbed by the blood. It will dampen the pain of the splitting, but not the contracting of the muscles, old and new."
The Tsahìk sighed, knowing the gravity of the situation, of how heavy it mattered so some families, how this very moment could seal the fate of one Na'vi for the rest of their life.
"Only then, you will be able to find out your son's tireafya'o [lit. 'spirit path' in Na'vi]."