Chapter Text
Now, for a young, teenage boy like Neteyam, flying away selfishly, far away from the one place you’ve ever known, leaving your home behind along with many of the friends you’ve made over the past, (well, not many in neteyams case) and transported into a whole different mindset that doesn’t allow you to take a mental breath, it’s not a good feeling. Especially if you’re thrown headfirst into the ocean… (literally), it can be a lot for a decently behaved na’vi boy like himself. He learnt a long time ago to suck it up and shove it inside of his aching heart, restrained emotion building up until it would eventually blow up in the worst possible way. A panic attack, or the dreaded breakdown.
No, he promised himself.
No matter how much feeling and emotion was stored up inside of him, Neteyam was determined to be thought of as a strong independent warrior like his father and mother, not some sob-story weakling that everyone for centuries would be talking about.
“Remember Neteyam Sully, you know, Jake sully’s kid? Oh yeah, well he didn’t turn out like his father at all, what a weak boy!”
Or simply, “Jake must be happy that he has another son, the first one was wasted space.”
That. That was the sentence that filled his head up every night in his sleep. It ate him alive until he was swallowed up in the great big mouth of failure, and child disappointment.
Not much made him violent. Well, at least to the point of his siblings being fought, hurt, or merely mocked. Still, this young boy was not reckless, or in other words, was extremely different from his brother Lo’ak.
Taking responsibility for Lo’ak’s stupid actions had become a hobby for Neteyam, although a hobby is something you enjoy doing, whereas he was sick of it. Taking the blame for every fight, every injustice caused, scratch, bruise, cut, all Neteyam’s fault. Every shout, every adventure, every mimic, all Neteyam’s fault. He loved Lo’ak with all of the fibre in his being but he was tired, tired as his limbs after a hunt, cooling off in his favourite tree. He often sat there thinking. Or if Lo’ak had been shouted at by both his parents, and he wanted to get away whilst their hot heads chilled over before completing yet another of the many tasks he had been assigned.
The salty breeze plastering the air made Neteyam’s eyes crack open with reluctance, whirling its way round his head, tangling its way through his neat, tight braids. Neteyam was sure that the gust had ruined them completely. It quivered slightly around his ears making him swat that area with his palm. A soft grunt passed his lips as he grumbled in silent annoyance.
“Teyam? Are you okay?” His little sister asked quietly, her high pitched voice resulting in Neteyam to smile. He grinned before replying shortly after.
“I’m alright, Tuk. Just wind.” He answered to the ikran in front of his own, holding his sister Tuk, and his mother, Neytiri on its back.
He could tell that all his siblings were tired out by the sound of their voices, and Tuk whining; “when are we there yet?” or “are we nearly there?”. Another reason he knew was that Lo’ak was actually quiet. And that only happens when he’s annoyed, thinking, or sleepy. Neteyam guessed it was the last option, since all Lo’ak ever did was talk, talk, and talk his family’s ears off. It grew annoying over the years.
His younger sister Kiri was also quiet, however that wasn’t unusual. She was always thinking. Unlike Neteyam himself she never actually spoke out her ideas out loud, but the cogs in her mind were ticking with every passing movement of life. Kiri wasn’t actually blood related to the sully family, but they all thought of her as such. Her mother was grace Augustine, but she died years ago, so Jake took her in and her story continued on its own.
“Mom…” Tuk whined, and although Neteyam had closed his eyes and allowed his ikran to guide the way of his family, they snapped open suddenly at the sound of his sisters voice, the possibility of it being in peril, but relaxed after hearing she was just hungry.
“Tuk, stop moaning!” Lo’ak groaned suddenly, all bunched up sideways on his own ikran, Teifa, and then when silent. Neteyam assumed he had fallen asleep.
They weren’t going home ever. Were they?
The last hour of the journey was a complete blur. They soared over the clear, calm blue ocean in sync, islands of pure and rich sand becoming bigger, and visible.
Neteyam’s ikran, Naja, mewed softly as its hind legs reached the sand first, impact shaking neteyam slightly as he steadied himself. Lo’ak landed second.
Then came his father, Kiri, and his mother, plus Tuk. Lo’ak sidled up to Neteyam once the sully family had climbed off their ikrans individually, and nudged him, nodding towards the massive crowds of Metkayina na’vi encircling them with unanswered questions like: “who are these creatures?” “Why are they here?” and most importantly, (or at least to the eldest sibling), “Why are they so blue?”
The cool air projected itself onto the darker na’vi’s skin, circling around their freckles that glinted in the warm sunlight. Neteyam was actually surprised at how much sunlight these people were actually privileged of obtaining. He patted Naja gently, and unlinked his own braid, and kiri, who was across from him did the same. He walked up to his father and Lo’ak was at his side, grumbling at how rude the stares from the Metkayina were.
Neteyam observed the few of them that were brave enough to come through the big crowds, and noticed their skin. Their skin was a lighter shade than his own, more like a turquoise. A pale one at that. Neteyam looked down at the arms of one of the two boys that had come to greet them, seeing that they were wider and an adaptation for swimming in dangerous seas. Unlike Neteyam, that boys hair was curly and shoved in a tight bun at the top of his head, wisps of other hair around his shoulder and going down his back. His linking braid, the only similarity of the two, fell down amidst where it should be and only then, did he realise he was looking a little too hard.