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You and Neteyam used to be friends. The best of friends. Walking along the forest floor hand in hand and running towards the other for a hug every time you see each other. You were both inseparable, like twins stuck on each other's side. You weren't related in any way but you treated him as your brother; even playing with his siblings and caring for them as if they were your own.
How many years have passed since people have heard the laughter of children echoing throughout that part of the forest. Those who were curious enough to follow those laughter would have seen your smile, eyes shining with joy that never dimmed even when your small body was pushed hard on the muddy ground when Kiri and Lo'ak jumped on you. How they would see the oldest son of Toruk Makto running to your side, eyes filled with worry, hissing towards his siblings with a glare and ordering them to apologize to you.
You thought those days would stay the same even as you got older, and you thought it would since your relationship with them was ever growing, forming a bond that could never be broken.
You didn't know when it started; when your heart started to flutter whenever Neteyam’s fingers innocently touch you, when his eyes glowed even brighter whenever he sees you, and how he smiles at you in secret making you feel like you were the only person he sees even if he was surrounded by others.
But as you got older, your duties got more taxing and your time with him got shortened.
Your smaller build was a hindrance; something that your parents thought you'd grow out of but clearly didn't, and because of this it caused your father to be a lot harsher with your training—him, a lot more crueler with his actions and words. He told you that experience would teach you more. To survive, he said. He just wanted you to survive, and if you were seen as someone useful, the Toruk Makto might even give you the chance to help the people fight the war with the Sky people. Be just like him, he said.
“And if you did, that would be something your father would surely be proud of.” Your mother said.
Neteyam would fuss and worry when he saw you after training, you couldn't really hide your body from the new cuts and growing bruises that covered you. You would always tell him that you were fine, that you were a strong girl and could take a little bit of rough handling even when all you wanted to do was scream in agony when shooting pain engulfed your whole body with every move. Even when your shoulder looked a little out of place.
You consider the Sullys your family, a family you've always looked up to. Happy, open, and filled with unconditional love all around. That's why even when Lo’ak continued to tease you or when Kiri continued to hit you playfully; with her not knowing the pain she’s causing your arm, you didn't complain because you knew it was all in good fun. They didn't mean to hurt you. The Sullys are like your family and you didn't want them to worry. So that's why when you went to the Tsahìk that same night in secret when the pain was too much to bear, you almost begged her not to tell anyone when she saw right through your lie.
"You did not get those wounds alone, child. Especially not just from training." Mo'at said as she rearranged the medicine that was used to coat your wounds and wrap your body, with a sap, to numb the pain from your bruises and newly relocated shoulder.
Looking away from her gaze you couldn't help the moisture that gathered in your eyes. You could have told her, you could have told anyone about your pain, but you didn't.
The Tsahìk looked at you with narrowed eyes waiting for you to start talking but you kept your mouth shut. You moved your fingers around in nervousness, your ears ringing with the loud beating of your heart. You prayed to Eywa that Mo'at would drop the subject, to just leave it in the air and ask no more questions because if she didn't, you didn't think you could stop yourself from breaking down in front of the Tsahìk. An embarrassing scenario that might wake someone up and tell your family.
But it seems like Eywa has heard you, much to your relief and disappointment. With only a warning to be more careful, to come back again if need be, and a cream to put on the ghastly wounds on your petite body, you quickly walked away from the Tsahìk's place towards your own.
Your secret was nothing more but that the next day. But as days went by, you saw how more often Neytiri would call for you to help with small things such as gathering fruits or making nets, and on how Jake Sully, the Toruk Makto, would sometimes stay near where you trained with your father and sometimes even giving tips on how to aim and shoot an arrow on moving targets.
The pain lessened and your heart filled with warmth, more so when Neteyam would visit you even with his busy schedule with raids, training as warrior and as the next Olo'eyktan.
This happiness didn't last though, it always seemed to end so suddenly.
Under the night sky, and deep within the forest near the river you all used to spend your days playing at as children. The memories you had here were happy and you would have thought Neteyam dragged you here for old times sake, but by the way he fidget and never said a word as he dragged you away from the camp to here, you knew something was wrong.
Neteyam took your hand in his and you couldn't help but smile when you saw how small your hands are compared to his. It made you remember the times where you both would compare your hands to each others when you were little, his were always bigger compared to yours no matter how older you got and now here at the present, it looks like it’s still the same outcome with yours being smaller than his but now both were a lot more rougher than they used to be.
“I'm leaving the camp.”
…
"Why? Where are you going?” You said as calmly as you could, but deep down inside you grew nervous as he looked away from you, ears dropping flat on his head.
“I can't tell you, y/n. My dad—
He sighs.
I can't tell you because I don't even know.”
The silence grew around you both, your mind going a mile with thoughts and questions that you wanted to ask him.
“Wait, how come you don't know? You can just leave without a destination in mind! When did you even plan this? And you can’t just leave! What about Lo’ak? Kiri and Tuk will miss you, and your mother…”
Shaking his head, he looked you in your eyes. You weren't used to seeing him like this, with ears hanging low and eyes filled with fear. Something gripped your heart and it made your blood run cold.
Neteyam opened his mouth to speak, and for the first time in your life of you always wanting to hear his voice speak to you, you wished he hadn't.
“It won't be just me, paskalin . My whole family is leaving.”
And with you hearing those last words, you felt your heart fall to your stomach.
Shaking your head in denial, you firmly took his arms into your hands causing him to step a little closer to your body, clutching onto them like a lifeline.
“You're not serious, Neteyam. Your whole family can't just leave. If it's because of the war, Toruk Makto won't just leave his people. That’s just not him. Your mother would never agree to this! She loves the forest, she loves the clan—the people!
I don't want you to leave! ”
You hated crying but right now you didnt care. Tears fell from your eyes and unwanted sobs left your mouth as you begged Eywa to hear you again, this time to let this be nothing more but a cruel joke.
Neteyam erased the distance of your bodies and held onto you more tightly with a hug, and for a while you both just stood there and took comfort in each other's presence. You knew this moment he gave you to calm down had to end and you hated it when he let you go, already missing his warmth. But like you, it seems like he didn't want to lose the connection you both had physically with each other just yet since he took your face in his warm hands and put his forehead gently on to yours, still keeping you close.
You begged him with your eyes but all he did was look at you with sadness and regret. “I know, but it's already been decided. I don't want to leave either but I don't have a choice. My family is in danger and if we stay here; you, ma paskalin, and the people will be in danger!”
“You can't go through with this, ma Teyam. Please, I'm begging you, there has to be another way!”
That night you stayed in his arms, cried, and begged.
And begged. And begged. But in the end, it didn't make a difference.
The title of Olo'eyktan was given to Tarsem. Not soon after, the Sullys took flight. And just like that, your fate was sealed.
Alone in pain and in darkness with only with his promises made to you that night as your warmth. You begged Eywa to hear your prayers one more time. That someday you will all meet again, that you would see and hear their laughter— his laughter and his eyes shining with joy like before the start of this war that took your childhoods and dreams away.
Because if that future existed where Neteyam comes back alive safely in your arms, you would do your best to survive until then.