Chapter Text
Neteyam wakes to the sound of a rather harsh gust of wind tugging on the pod he shares with his brother Lo’ak.
He blinks the sleep out of his eyes and glances through the crack of the cloak that covers the entrance to their pod, catching a glimpse of the dawn outside. It’s an unfamiliar sight to him, at least here on the island. Learning the new culture here, their sign language, their customs, training in the water all day and getting the hang of riding an ilu had worn him out so much he’d always been sleeping in until his mother came to wake him up.
Lo’ak is still sleeping, body twisted in a weird position with loud snores escaping his parted lips. Even during his sleep his little brother had found a way to disturb him. It’s strange though, because Lo’ak never used to snore back in the forest. Maybe it’s the change in humidity, Neteyam isn’t sure, but he definitely had thoughts of suffocating his brother with a pillow more than once last night.
A clicking sound from outside makes his ears twitch, and it surprises him slightly, how he seems to know right away who it’s coming from.
He gets up slowly and gets himself ready to step outside, putting his necklaces back on that he took off because some of them are uncomfortable to sleep in, or he’d rather not snap them while he’s tossing around at night.
One new addition is a small, purple shell, that shines in all colors of the rainbow when the sun catches it just right. It was a gift from Tuk. Neteyam smiles when he thinks about how excited she was when she run up to him to give it to him the other day. She’d managed to dive for it all the way to the bottom of the ocean, and Tsireya had helped her make it into a necklace.
Tuk is sweet like that towards all her siblings, but her and Neteyam share a more special bond, with him being the oldest and her being the youngest. He knows Tuk sees somewhat of a second father figure in him. It’s all the more reason for him to be mindful of everything he does, the way he speaks in front of her, the way he treats other people when she’s around.
In her eyes, Neteyam can do no wrong, which is why she will copy anything he does and anything he says. Including curse words.
He used to call Lo’ak a little bitch when he was getting on his nerves and Tuk picked up on the word faster than he could explain to her that she shouldn’t be saying it. The earful he received from his dad still rings in his ears. Now, the words die in his throat when he knows his little sister is near.
Stepping out of the pod, he’s immediately greeted by the beautiful sight of the endless ocean, the waves slightly rougher this morning due to the wind. The sky is tinged with hues of red and pink with the sun rising in the horizon, blending into a soft blue where the night is clinging to the new day.
It’s still quiet on the island. Most of the clan members won’t be up until another hour or so, but he knows that at least someone is already awake.
He walks towards the shore, his steps more secure now where he used to stumble over the nets trying to balance himself during their first couple of days of arrival.
Neteyam spots a figure in the distance, standing in the shallow water with an ilu, and he approaches them slowly.
Aonung’s ears perk up as he hears Neteyam walking up behind him and he turns around in surprise, that same smirk spreading on his face that made Neteyam want to wipe it off with his fist in the beginning. Well, he did, eventually, after the other boy thought it was funny to bully his siblings, or you know, almost got Lo’ak killed.
The evidence of it is still there on Aonung’s face in the form of a fading bruise on his cheek and a healing cut on his lip. You’d think the boy would stop smirking so much, because the wounds must hurt when stretched, but he doesn’t seem to care.
“Forest boy,” Aonung says, his hand stroking the Ilu’s neck gently. “Up early, I see.”
Neteyam observes him for a moment, how careful he’s being with the animal, a very stark contrast to how Aonung acts most of the time. “What about you? You overslept every single training last week. Did you have a nightmare or something?”
“Yeah,” Aonung replies, patting the Ilu on the head one last time before he turns around to fully face Neteyam, grinning again. “About your ugly face.”
Neteyam scoffs. “You wish.” He steps closer and pushes Aonung aside, who stumbles over his feet and grunts. Neteyam pets the Ilu and quickly recognizes that it’s the one with a ragged shaped scar on her back. It seems that Aonung always calls for the same one, which is strange, because just like the direhorses back in the forest, you don’t really bond with one single Ilu here. He decides to ask Aonung about it. “Why do you always call for her? I’ve never seen you ride another Ilu.”
Aonung seems taken aback by the question, looking strangely caught as he meets Neteyam’s eyes. The look is quickly gone though as Aonung shrugs and crosses his arms over his chest. “I don’t call for her specifically. She’s just always the nearest one around.”
“Of course.”
Aonung scowls at him. “Shut up.”
Neteyam rolls his eyes. “Were you about to ride out?”
“Yeah, we set up some traps near the rocks last night. Wanted to check them out.”
“Can I come with you?”
Neteyam tilts his head, a smile tugging on his lips again. He does that a lot when he looks at someone, like he’s testing them. “What’s this, forest boy? You want to spend time with me willingly?”
Neteyam shrugs. “My father wants us to get along. I figured this could be a good way to prove to them that we actually do.”
“Do we?” Aonung asks. “Get along, I mean.”
“When you’re not busy trying to get my little brother killed, you mean?”
The smirk falls from Aonung’s face, and he averts his eyes. He looks ashamed. Neteyam knows the other boy regrets what he did, and he definitely paid the price, given all the punishments he received from his dad, but it seems that he’s still not quite made peace with himself over the whole ordeal. “I—” Aonung starts and his fingers twitch at his sides, curling into fists. “I will never put your family in that kind of danger again. You have my word,” He finally says as he meets Neteyam’s eyes with honesty and determination in his own.
It's the first time Neteyam’s seen Aonung look at him like this. It’s the same way Neteyam figures he looks at his father when he apologizes for messing up, or when he takes the fall for his siblings and takes the blame for their misbehavior. You will have to prove it to me, is what his dad says, which is often not what Neteyam wants to hear.
I know, son. It’s okay. Everyone makes mistakes. It’s in the past.
He sighs, shrugging. “Stop beating yourself up over it. I know you won’t do it again.”
Aonung’s eyes widen slightly. He looks so confused, and his eyes flicker over Neteyam’s face, and then the rest of his body, like they did when they first met. Back then, his blue eyes were filled with a lot more judgement and disgust. Neteyam’s doesn’t find any of that in them now, he finds something else, but he’s not sure what emotion it is.
They snap out of it when the Ilu jumps in the water next to them.
“Let’s go,” Aonung quickly says and pushes Neteyam away from the ilu. “Race you there.”
__
They get back when the sun is up and the members of the clan are out and about, going after their tasks for the day and mingling on the beach and around the shore.
Their trip to the rocks was quiet.
Aonung didn’t seem to be in the mood to speak too much, and Neteyam was kind of thankful for the peace and quiet.
He spotted a sparkling shell while they were checking out the traps and decided to give it to Aonung upon arriving back on the island.
Aonung takes the pink shell and twists it around in his fingers for a moment, before raising his head to give Neteyam a clueless look.
“What’s with this?”
Neteyam shrugs. “I found it earlier, it looks pretty.”
Aonung looks even more confused now. “Dude…”
“It's not for you, idiot,” Neteyam mutters. “I know your sister collects these things. Give it to her.”
“Tsireya?” Aonung scoffs. “What, are you interested in her or something?”
“Of course not.”
“Why not?” Aonung asks and as Neteyam meets his eyes, the boy looks offended.
He backtracks. “N-No. Don’t get me wrong. She’s great. She’s beautiful, and she’s kind, but you know. Lo’ak.”
Aonung sneers at that, fingers curling around the shell. “What does she even see in him? He’s an idiot. He’s only going to get her in trouble.”
“Lo’ak’s got a good heart. He’s still a kid but I know he’ll be a good man. He’d never harm your sister.”
Aonung shrugs. “Still, if she absolutely had to choose a forest boy, I’d rather it was you.” The boy’s eyes widen after the words leave his lips, like he can’t believe he just said that.
Neteyam grins. “Huh, why?”
“You’re… smart,” Aonung replies after a beat, not sounding too sure himself. Neteyam laughs and Aonung scowls again. “Don’t flatter yourself, forest boy. You’re still ugly and you swim like a baby.”
Neteyam laughs louder and Aonung hisses at him, tackling him out of nowhere. Neteyam loses his balance and trips, grabbing Aonung to take him down with him. They both grunt at the impact, Aonung’s elbow stabbing him in the chest painfully.
They wrestle around in the shallow water for a few seconds, Neteyam unable to stop laughing while Aonung tells him to stop.
It’s the most carefree Neteyam’s felt ever since they arrived on the island.
To be honest, it’s the most carefree he’s felt in a long time, even since back in the forest.
His hand grabs a hold of the tied up hair on the back of Aonung’s head, and he gives it a tug, making the other boy yell out in pain.“Stop, that hurts!” Aonung sits up, and Neteyam only briefly notes how he’s sitting on top of him now, but Aonung doesn’t seem too fazed. Maybe it’s normal here for boys to touch each other, it wasn’t really, back in his old clan. Not that Neteyam had too many friends.
Being the son of Toruk Makto made other kids wary of befriending him. His dad was kind, but he was powerful, and many were scared in his presence.
“You tackled me, stupid!”
“You were laughing at me.” Aonung reaches out, probably to pull at his ear, but Neteyam stops him and grabs his hand mid-air. Their eyes meet and they’re both breathing heavily from wrestling around. One thing Neteyam notices is how much smoother Aonung’s hands are compared to his own. His skin is rougher, has more scars from climbing around in the forest.
He doesn’t know if Aonung is thinking the same, but the boy looks at their joined hands and then back at Neteyam. His eyes flicker over Neteyam’s face, and he looks nervous for some reason. This in return, makes Neteyam feel nervous as well, and he shifts underneath the boy, suddenly too aware of the compromising position they’re in. Aonung’s lips part to speak and Neteyam’s ears perk up like they’re eager to hear what the boy is going to say next.
“Hey!” Someone shouts, and Aonung is up and gone before Neteyam can even react. He sits up and watches his dad approach with Aonung’s father. Both men tend to take walks together, talking about important matters that his dad won’t allow him to listen to because he’s still a child. “Neteyam! I can’t believe you are fighting again.”
Neteyam shakes his head, glancing at Aonung, who only briefly meets his eyes before lowering his head. “Sir—We weren’t. We weren’t fighting.” He stands up.
“Then what is this? Why are you here and not with your siblings?” His dad demands, and Neteyam feels his face burn. Being reprimanded by your parent is one thing, but having it happen in front of your friends is another level of humiliating. “Do I have to remind you of what happened with Lo’ak?”
“I’m sorry, sir,” Neteyam answers. “You’re right.”
“You’re their older brother, Neteyam. If you start slacking off, so will they. If you start acting out, so will they.”
“I know.”
“Don’t go wandering around without my permission anymore.”
“Yes, sir.”
Neteyam meets his dad’s eyes until the man gives a sigh and turns away from him. His shoulders sag and he feels his chest constrict.
It’s weird to put into words, the feeling of dejection, of having disappointed someone without really having done anything wrong. But he did do something wrong, and he needs to start understanding that.
“Sir—” Aonung suddenly speaks up. Neteyam looks up and finds Aonung’s eyes are already on him, before the boy clears his throat and looks at Neteyam’s dad. “It was my fault. I wanted to check out some traps and dragged Neteyam with me. It wasn’t his idea.”
Neteyam keeps staring at Aonung, taken aback bis his words. He didn’t think Aonung had the guts to speak up to his father, much less do it for Neteyam. It sounds stupid, but he can’t seem to take his eyes off the boy, not even to check his father’s reaction. It’s like he’s seeing Aonung differently all of a sudden. All it took were a few words from him. Or maybe it was just the words themselves.
Kiri occasionally tried to stand up for him when his dad was talking him down, his mother as well, but it’s the first time someone outside of his family is speaking up for him.
“Thank you for clarifying, Aonung, but Neteyam is old enough to make his own decisions. Don’t take the blame for him,” His father says.
Neteyam finally snaps his gaze away from Aonung, briefly noting how the boy’s gaze hardens at his dad’s words.
He’s not old enough to be part of the important discussions, or to be taken into consideration when making decisions, but he’s old enough when it comes to this. When he disappoints, he’s an adult. Maybe he should count it as a win.
He feels like absolute shit, though.
Aonung’s father tells him to get back to the pods and help his mother with something and then the two men leave.
Neteyam hears Aonung approach and for a moment, they both stand in silence. Neteyam looks up at Aonung and finds the boy looking slightly nervous, like he doesn’t know what to do or say.
“Hey, uhm,” He starts, clearing his throat. “My dad is always on my case about stuff like this. I get this talk at least three times a day, so, uhm. Don’t, you know. Take it to heart.”
Aonung looks so damn awkward as he stutters the words out, and Neteyam realizes that the boy is trying to cheer him up. It seems like he’s never done it before, or maybe he’s just reluctant to do it with Neteyam.
It eases some of the weight off his chest, because he knows Aonung’s not just saying it to make him feel better.
He’s seen Aonung being scolded by his dad more than once. He never really thought how they’re both in a similar position, both being the oldest sons, expected to follow in their dad’s footsteps.
Neteyam reaches out to put his hand on Aonung’s shoulder. It’s slightly broader than his own. It bothered him in the beginning, how Aonung looks stronger than he does, physically, but now he finds it… interesting. “Thank you.”
Aonung stares at him blankly, his throat working, before he nods his head and quickly turns away from him. “See you around, forest boy.”