Chapter Text
The day Neteyam bonded with his ikran was also the day he knew that you were meant to be his.
He remembered how his heart had twisted with fear when he had landed in front of you after completing his first flight, certain his new spirit brother was going to attack you for being human— but to his surprise, the beast had immediately started to nuzzle his beak against your cheek. You had giggled, your face full of shock but your eyes lit up beautifully with happiness, and began peppering the ikran’s face with kisses. How he had wished to be his spirit brother in that moment… he wanted to know if your lips were as soft as they looked. The fact that his bonded had so swiftly accepted you, and seemed to revel in your affections, baffled all but him. Most ikran cared little for any but their rider, after all. But he knew it was a sign from Eywa herself that she accepted his feelings for you.
He couldn’t say when it was that he started loving you. He thought perhaps he always had, from the moment he was born. He believed that Eywa made you for him— or more accurately, that she made him for you. You didn't know it, but his heart was in your tiny, human hands.
Despite what many would think, it was not that he forgot you were human— how could he, when you were so adorably small, so worryingly delicate, and so beautifully, oddly colored? It’s that he simply didn't care. Being human didn't make you bad, just different— and he loved your differences, totally and irrevocably.
He knew he had a duty to his people, one he would have been honored to carry— had it not been for you. The olo'eyktan could not have a human mate. Even his father had had to give up his humanity to be with his mother, and he did not want that for you, even if it had been possible. He did not want you to have to change who you were just to be with him. He loved you for you.
But a Tsahik needed to be able to connect with the world and the spirits within it, and you simply did not have the biology to do so. The braid you wore was longer than his, but it was just hair. And so, he was torn between duty and love… and he did not know what he would choose.
No, that wasn’t quite true. He knew, deep down, that if you had felt even slightly the same way about him as he did about you, he would give it all up. But you didn’t. How could you, when there was another, perfectly age appropriate human who could understand you and connect to you in ways he never could? Who could give you children? No— you would never love him. Not while Spider was around.
He resented the older boy for it, even though he knew it was unfair. But it had driven a wedge between them all the same, and Neteyam could hardly stand to be around him anymore. Especially when the three of you were all together. Seeing how the two of you fit in a way you and Neteyam never would, from your uniquely colored eyes to your short stature to your lack of a tail… it hurt. And sometimes, he almost wished that he was human, if only so he had a chance with you.
But then Spider had been taken, and his parents had decided that they were to abandon the Omaticaya, abandon their people , and run away— leaving you behind.
“Come with us,” he begged you, taking your small hands in his much larger ones. He held them gently, like the most delicate flower, hyperaware as always that he could break them in a second. It often scared him, just how fragile your human body was. How easily he could hurt you without even trying. It was his biggest fear that one day, he’d touch you, and you’d shatter into a thousand little pieces like spun glass.
“Teyam…” you whispered, bringing him out of his thoughts. Despite the situation, he couldn’t help but admire how his name sounded, coming from your lips. Like it belonged to you. Because it did. He belonged to you, even if you didn't know it.
“Please, I cannot bear to leave you here alone,” he continued. He took a risk, and pressed his palm to your cheek, cradling your face as he stared into your eyes. He liked to spend time with you here, in the strange metal structures that the humans lived in, because it meant your beautiful features weren’t obscured by your breathing mask. “You know as well as I that the new olo'eyktan will ban you from the village the second we are gone.”
He watched as the light in your eyes dimmed, and he cursed himself for causing it— but it was the truth. You and Spider had barely been tolerated by the rest of the clan, growing up. It was only his father’s status as leader that allowed the two of you to come and go as you pleased. Even his mother would have forbidden your presence, if it was up to her. He was eternally grateful it hadn’t been.
“I cannot come with you, Neteyam,” you repeated, voice pained. “Not even if I wanted to. Have you forgotten that I am human? Out there, with the sea clans, there is no air that I can breathe.”
“I could never forget that,” he said adamantly, missing the way your face dropped as his words. “Have you forgotten your blessing?”
Just as he could never forget that you were human, he could never forget that night, either. The two of you had stood beneath the tree of souls, bare feet sinking into the soft moss that grew between the roots as Eywa held you in her heart. With shaking hands, you had gently grasped his braid, and connected him to Pandora herself. He had removed your mask, and cradled your face in his hands, much like he did now, before leaning down to press his lips to yours and sharing the breath of life. Even though it was not a true kiss, only part of a ritual, he still treasured the moment. Your lips were as soft as he’d always imagined…
Your gaze shuttered, and you pulled away from him.
“It was not real,” you said. “I know you were just indulging me… Eywa would never bless a human.”
“But what if she did?” he asked, insistent. “You refused to test it!”
“Because I did not wish to be disappointed!” You yelled back, eyes brimming with hurt. “I did not wish for confirmation of that which I already know. That I am not welcome on Pandora, and I never will be.”
“You are welcome here,” he said as he stooped down further so he could place your hand, still held in his own, over his heart. “I see you.”
He watched as the hurt in your eyes transformed into shock, and then something else, something he could not name but made his heart start to pound beneath your fingertips— but in a second, it was gone, a look of defeat crossing your face once more as you shook your head.
“The sea clans will not feel the same,” you whispered. “They will refuse your family refuge if I am with you.”
Offended on your behalf, he straightened to his full height without realizing, and hissed angrily.
“I will make them see you,” he vowed as he stared down at you, his hand still cupping your cheek. Your face felt suddenly warm beneath his palm, and you looked even smaller than normal, your eyes darker.
“T-Teyam—” you stuttered, and it was only then that he noticed he’d stood up, and at the movement, your hand had slid down his body to rest on his thigh. His own hand still covered yours, leaving you unable to move it away. His eyes widened and he coughed, letting go of you as he stepped back, giving you space.
“I will make them see you,” he repeated, pushing past the awkward tension and resolutely ignoring the stirring in his groin. “If Eywa has blessed you as I think she has, then trust me to do the rest. Please… I cannot protect you from across the sea.”
“Your mother will not like it,” you said after a long moment, but he could hear in your voice that he had won, and he grinned.
“I do not care,” he answered, reaching out to take your hand again as he began to lead you outside, grabbing your breathing mask on the way. “Come! We must see if I am right, and you are blessed by Eywa like I suspect.”
He heard you sigh, and he knew that you must have thought his belief unwarranted. It was likely the only reason you’d agreed— you probably expected to collapse seconds after taking off your breathing mask, and he would be forced to see that you could not come with him. But he knew in his very soul that the ritual had worked. That Eywa had accepted you as one of her children, human or not.
When the two of you alighted on the forest floor, he turned to you, and without missing a beat, picked you up and sat you on a nearby boulder so your face was level with his. He bit back a chuckle at your surprised squeak— one would think you'd have come to expect it, considering how often it happened. He knew you didn't like to be reminded of your short stature, so whenever he spoke to you, he stooped down so you didn’t feel so small. But it wasn’t exactly comfortable, so when his back grew too sore, he’d find a way to raise you up to his height instead.
“Are you ready?” He asked, reaching out to cradle your face again— except this time, it was covered by your mask. You looked nervous, and he smiled at you reassuringly. “It will work… but if it does not, I will put your mask right back on. I would never let anything bad happen to you, I promise.”
You took a deep breath and nodded, and he could feel some of the tension leave your body. Carefully, he removed your mask, setting it down next to you. A moment passed, and nothing happened.
“You are holding your breath,” he pointed out, amused. You shot him a look, and he laughed. “Breathe, Hona. You must breathe. Trust in Eywa. Trust in me. ”
He didn’t even notice his use of the pet name, but your eyes widened as it looked like something stole the very air from your lungs, and then you began to panic as you fought to keep from breathing in. He placed a large hand on your back, rubbing it soothingly.
“Breathe,” he commanded gently, and you gasped in a lungful of sweet Pandoran air for the very first time.
He smiled as you took a breath, and then another, your eyes growing wide with wonder. The ritual the two of you did all those years ago worked. He had begged Eywa to bestow her blessing upon you, and she had. And now, there was nothing stopping you from leaving with him and his family.
“Neteyam,” you whispered, eyes filling with tears of joy. “Oh Eywa, Neteyam! I cannot believe it, it actually worked!”
“Of course it did,” he said, grinning so wide his cheeks hurt. “Eywa loves you.”
As do I, he added in his mind.
Overwhelmed with happiness, you pulled him close, wrapping your arms around his waist. He hugged you back, holding you gently, enjoying the feeling of your warm body against his. You covered much more skin than the Na’vi tended to— the humans you lived with had started insisting you dress more like them, a few years back. He had not understood it at first, especially when they did not require the same of Spider, and you had refused to answer when he asked, reacting oddly before running away. Desperate to know, he had swallowed his jealousy and gone to the human boy, who had of course eavesdropped on what Neteyam had slowly come to realize must have been a private conversation. Puberty, Spider had called it. Breasts, he’d said.
Neteyam had blushed purple as understanding dawned on him, and he couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eye for weeks. Instead, he’d found his gaze drawn stubbornly elsewhere, once it had been pointed out to him. He couldn’t help but notice how your chest was larger than any of the adult Na’vi, even though you weren’t even a year his senior. Later, when you were all a little older, he’d overheard some of the other boys talking about it— about you. They all knew what breasts were by then, and they were curious as to why yours were so big. As he listened to them plan to corner you and remove your coverings so they could try and find out, he’d frozen in shock, and then burned with anger as he attacked them, his one and only thought being that he had to protect you. His mother had been confused and disappointed, and his father furious at his unusually violent behavior— but when he’d taken his son aside and Neteyam had explained what he’d heard, Jake Sully had gone still, before standing and leaving the tent that was their home. When he’d returned, he’d told Neteyam, much to his mother’s consternation, that he had done the right thing, and he would not be punished for it. That night, he’d eavesdropped as his father had informed his wife of what had happened, and the next morning, she had kissed his forehead and told him she was proud of him. Lo’ak had not spoken to him for a week afterwards, convinced he was getting away with something that would’ve seen any of the other children grounded. He did not know the reason that Neteyam had attacked the boys, and he had not told him, either. Knowing his younger brother, he would have gone to beat the boys up all over again, only to get himself hurt in the process.
Neteyam could feel your breasts now, the soft swell of your chest pressed against his, even through your strange coverings— clothes, you called them. He liked how they felt. He didn’t find their size strange like the other boys did. Quite the opposite. He often found himself imagining what they looked like beneath your clothes, when he had a moment alone…
He cleared his throat and pulled away as he was brought back to the present, praying to Eywa that his face wasn’t purple.
“We are leaving at eclipse,” he said as he helped you down from the boulder. “Say your goodbyes, and pack your things. I will return for you in an hour. I must inform my family that you will be joining us.”
“Neteyam—” you started to protest, but he cut you off.
“One hour,” he repeated. With that, he was off, bounding through the forest in the direction of the village. He knew the conversation ahead was not going to be pleasant.