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Kiri was an observer, she always had been, so as soon as the family had landed on the island of Awa’atlu, she was fixated on the people. She wasn’t happy to be there, she’d made that very clear, but she found the new Na’vi people incredibly fascinating to look at. They obviously found the Sully family fascinating to look at too.
The crowd parted for a tall Metkayina boy, trailed by a shorter one, roughly Kiri’s own height. The shorter one made brief eye contact with Kiri, but when she followed the taller one’s gaze, she found it fixated on Neteyam. She watched her older brother greet the other, but the tall one did not return his greeting, which clearly rubbed Neteyam the wrong way.
A lot was happening when the Olo’eyktan and Tsahik arrived, and tense words were exchanged between the families. But Kiri kept glancing back at the first boy, who she guessed to be the son of Tonowari and Ronal. He had done a quick once-over of the rest of the family, but his stare returned to Neteyam’s and he wasn’t breaking that stare nor was he hiding it.
Kiri raised an eyebrow. Her theory of him being the Olo’eyktan and Tsahik’s son was proven true when Tonowari announced that his son, who’s name was Aonung, and daughter Tsireya would be teaching the Sully children the Metkayina way.
It was the first time Aonung tore his gaze away from Neteyam in five minutes. “Father, why-” he tried to protest, but Tonowari cut him off. “It is decided.” Aonung huffed, but Kiri watched his eyes find Neteyam again. She didn’t miss the way his irritation softened.
How interesting. Lo’ak was clearly attracted to their daughter, Tsireya. But their son was intrigued by Neteyam. Kiri would definitely be keeping an eye on her brothers here.
Rotxo knew Aonung very well. How could he not? They had known one another since they were born, practically brothers by blood. So of course, Rotxo noticed immediately how infatuated Aonung was by the newcomer, Neteyam. Tsireya was obvious about her interest in the other brother, Lo’ak, but no one seemed to suspect Aonung.
No one but Rotxo. Yet.
Rotxo was sort of side-lined during ilu training. Kiri had gone off on her own, to his dismay, and Tuk was too young. Tsireya had claimed Lo’ak as her student, and Aonung had subtly staked claim on teaching Neteyam. Tsireya was simply too fascinated by Lo’ak to have noticed.
Tuk splashed and played in the water around Rotxo, and yes, he was watching her, but he was also watching his best friend.
Aonung stood in front of Neteyam’s ilu, keeping it still while Neteyam adjusted himself on its back. Rotxo couldn’t hear the words being exchanged between them, but it was Aonung’s expressions and body language that Rotxo was focused on. He watched as Aonung brazenly reached forward and gripped Neteyam’s thigh, adjusting the position of his leg.
Rotxo’s eyes snapped to Neteyam for a reaction. Neteyam seemed surprised that Aonung would be so bold, but not necessarily upset. In fact, Neteyam’s wide eyes lingered on Aonung’s hand until he pulled it away, before looking at Aonung directly. Aonung stared back, and the two shared a look that made Rotxo feel like he was intruding on something.
He turned back to Tuk.
It was towards the end of their lessons with the Sully children a few weeks later that Kiri sat next to him as he was watching Aonung teach Neteyam what shells were useful for Metkayina crafting. They were all on the beach, Tsireya teaching Lo’ak and Tuk something a little ways to Rotxo’s right, while Aonung and Neteyam were far enough down the beach that Rotxo could only pick up bits and pieces of their conversation.
He turned to Kiri when she sat, ignoring his heart stuttering. Kiri offered him a smile before turning her gaze onto Neteyam and Aonung. “Aonung, he is your best friend?” Rotxo nodded, tearing his eyes from Kiri before he creeped her out. “Yes, he is like my brother.”
“That is very nice. Do you have other siblings?” Rotxo straightened his back, excited to have Kiri’s attention like this. “Yes, I have a little sister.” Kiri smiled. “No wonder you are so good with Tuk.”
Comfortable silence fell between them as Rotxo reveled in the compliment. Before he could consider how to reply, Kiri spoke again. “Tell me, Rotxo, as Aonung’s best friend, does his behavior towards my eldest brother strike you as odd?”
Of course Kiri would be the one to notice! Rotxo fell for her a little harder.
“Yes!” He exclaimed with almost too much excitement, and Kiri turned to look at him. “Um, yes, sorry, I just have no one to talk to about this,” Rotxo chuckled sheepishly. Kiri smiled again, eyes soft, before her expression became serious. “I worry about his intentions.”
Rotxo nodded understandingly. “Of course, his behavior towards you and your other brother has been… uncouth at best. But he’s different with Neteyam. I see it in his eyes, in their interactions, and in how he speaks of Neteyam to me. I am almost inclined to believe that he likes Neteyam the way Lo’ak likes Tsireya.”
Kiri hummed thoughtfully. Rotxo waited for a comment, but instead she turned her full attention to him and changed the subject. Rotxo was too enraptured with Kiri to notice the way Aonung kept accidentally brushing hands with Neteyam.
Lo’ak wasn’t known for being the brightest, but he had better observational skills than most gave him credit for. He was raised in war, after all. So he noticed the way Aonung immediately backed down when Neteyam got involved in their dispute. It wasn’t out of fear either, from what he could tell, so Lo’ak couldn’t understand why Aonung would listen to Neteyam so willingly.
He should have let it go after Neteyam made Aonung back down, but he could hear Aonung and his little friends talking shit as he began walking away with his siblings, and his pride got the better of him.
The fight was a messy blur, until Neteyam jumped in and wrapped things up swiftly. He took two of Aonung’s friends down, one whom had been on top of Lo’ak, and as Lo’ak was on the ground, catching his breath, he witnessed something strange. The third friend had run off, leaving Neteyam and Aonung the only two standing.
Standing as in conscious, as Aonung was pulling himself up from the sand.
Lo’ak waited for Neteyam to swing on Aonung, but Neteyam didn’t. When Aonung was back on his feet, chest heaving, Lo’ak waited for him to maybe swing at Neteyam, but he didn’t. There was a look on both of their faces that Lo’ak couldn’t determine. They just stood there, staring at one another, with these looks on their faces.
Lo’ak didn’t have any more time to try and figure out what that meant before Jake and Tonowari were on the scene and he had bigger problems to worry about.
Jake was caught off guard when Neteyam came marching up to him and Kiri, holding Aonung by the kuru. His gut response was to immediately reprimand Neteyam for holding the son of the Olo’eyktan like that, but this was Neteyam. Neteyam was never brash, and always acted with a reason.
“Tell him what you told me!” Neteyam commanded Aonung, gesturing aggressively towards Jake. As Aonung spoke, Neteyam’s actions made much more sense, but it wasn’t until after Lo’ak was returned to the village safely that Jake started to realize what didn’t make sense.
First of all, why would Aonung confess his transgression to Neteyam? Especially one done so shamelessly. Second, even if Aonung was remorseful about his actions, everything Jake knew about the boy indicated he was one of the last Na’vi who would ever let himself be held and dragged around by his kuru. Especially as future Olo’eyktan with a reputation to uphold.
Lo’ak took the blame for the entire ordeal, and Jake wasn’t buying a word of it, but he let his youngest son do as he thought right. Jake’s eyes drifted to Neteyam, gauging his reaction. Neteyam was side-eyeing Aonung, clearly fuming as Lo’ak took blame. Aonung turned his head just slightly to meet Neteyam’s eyes, and a look overcame his face that Jake couldn’t figure out.
The crowd dispersed when Lo’ak and Aonung were guided back to their homes by their mothers. Jake nodded goodnight at Tonowari before turning to follow. They hadn’t been back in their marui long when Tonowari appeared at their doorway. Jake greeted him, and saw Aonung and Ronal behind him.
“Jake Sully,” Tonowari began. “I apologize for the intrusion. My son insists there is something he must say to us all. May we come in?” Jake glanced back at Neytiri, who nodded curtly, and they welcomed the other family in.
Jake didn’t miss the way Aonung and Neteyam’s eyes immediately found each other. Neteyam was obviously as surprised as the rest of the Sully family. “Speak, boy,” Tonowari said, nudging Aonung into the center of the room.
Aonung’s eyes lingered on Neteyam before he stood up straight, clearly nervous, but with a steady voice he began to confess. “It was not Lo’ak’s fault. He went beyond the reef with us willingly, but it was not his idea, and certainly not his fault that I chose to leave him there. I was angry, and acted like a petulant child. I did not think of the real harm my actions could have caused.”
He knelt before Jake and Neytiri and bowed his head. “I am deeply sorry.”
The marui was shocked into silence for a moment. Jake looked at Neytiri, but she was looking at Neteyam. Eventually she broke the silence, looking away from her son and back at Aonung. “You are forgiven, child, you take proper accountability. Let it never happen again, and apologize to Lo’ak personally.”
Aonung immediately stood and approached Lo’ak, apologizing.
Jake couldn’t lie, he was incredibly taken aback by his mate’s reaction. He’d been ready to have to hold her back, her forgiveness was never so easily earned, especially when it came to her children. “Uh, yeah, you’re… forgiven.” Jake looked at Tonowari, who looked equally as surprised. Ronal stood beside him, looking displeased but giving nothing else away.
“Thank you for your understanding and patience with our son, and accept our apologies as well,” Tonowari said. Neytiri nodded and Jake waved his hand. “Of course. Goodnight, Olo’eyktan, Tsahik.” “Goodnight, Sully.” Ronal clicked her tongue and Aonung followed his parents without a word.
Jake didn’t miss the way Neteyam’s eyes followed him out.
Tonowari brought it up to Jake at the clan’s weekly communal dinner on the beach. He had been curious of Aonung’s reasoning to admit to his blame when Lo’ak had been so willing to take it. Of course, all Aonung would tell him was, “It was the right thing to do.” Aonung was a good young man, but Tonowari didn’t buy his reasoning for a minute.
Something had swayed Aonung’s mind and heart for such a change in character to occur.
Tonowari made a point to have his family eat with the Sully family during these weekly dinners. He and Jake had become friends easily, and Tsireya was thrilled with the Sully siblings, but Ronal and Aonung had needed some pushing. Over the weeks it had begun to work, as Tonowari watched Neytiri and Ronal hold a terse but polite conversation away from the fire.
Then there was his son. His son… and Jake Sully’s son. It hadn’t gone unnoticed that Aonung gravitated to Neteyam during these dinners. But as Tonowari watched the two interact on the other side of the fire, he wondered exactly how close they had gotten. He didn’t usually pay them much attention, more concerned about Tsireya and Lo’ak.
Tonight though, his attention was on the two eldest.
Neteyam had trouble deboning his fish. He’d gotten much better at it since his first dinner, but he still pulled the occasional bone from his mouth with a grimace. Tonowari had counted three bones so far, and by the third Neteyam had set down his plate, giving up.
Aonung laughed and was obviously teasing Neteyam, but Tonowari was shocked when Aonung began deboning a fresh fish and putting the best chunks of meat on Neteyam’s discarded plate. Neteyam rolled his eyes but smiled, picking up his plate and beginning to eat again.
Tonowari narrowed his eyes, scooting over to sit next to Jake who had been sharpening his knife to his right. He didn’t take his eyes off their eldest sons. Aonung was looking at Neteyam with a certain softness that Tonowari rarely ever witnessed. A kind of softness Tonowari treated Ronal with.
“Jake Sully,” Tonowari kept his voice low. Jake looked up expectantly. “Our sons… they have become close, no?” Jake followed Tonowari’s gaze to Neteyam and Aonung. “Yeah… I noticed that too. They seemed pretty upset after that fight.”
Tonowari nodded. “Yes… I must admit I was unsure what could have swayed Aonung to admit to blame after it had already been settled by Lo’ak’s claim of it. Upon observation I feel as though your eldest boy may have played a hand in it.”
“How? There was no time between Lo’ak’s return and Aonung’s confession where Neteyam could have spoken to him.” “I do not think Neteyam told Aonung to do so. But I think Aonung did it for Neteyam.”
The fathers had been staring for too long because Neteyam started to stare back at Jake, confused, and Aonung frowned at Tonowari, a what did I do? expression on his face. He and Jake laughed awkwardly and looked away, changing the topic to the next day’s hunt. But Tonowari was glad he hadn’t been the only one to notice.
Tsireya had suspected her brother of having feelings for Neteyam, but was too unsure to say anything. The arrival of the Tulkun, however, and the subsequent celebration, confirmed her suspicions, because as she excitedly told her spirit sister about Lo’ak, she noticed her brother nearby, and abruptly stopped what she was saying when she noticed he was introducing Neteyam to his spirit brother.
Her spirit sister glanced over to see what had stolen Tsireya’s attention. “Your brother met a boy as well, it would seem.” Tsireya’s eyes widened. “No,” she signed. “They must just be good friends now.” The water around them vibrated with her sister’s laughter. “I have not even met your boy, and yet, Aonung has already brought his to Anak. I would guess… more than friends.”
Tsireya would have gasped were she not underwater. All this time, she’d had a feeling, but she’d ignored it, feeling she had no evidence. Not to mention her preoccupation with Lo’ak. But to have someone else point it out so confidently had Tsireya rethinking everything.
During the celebrations that night, Tsireya tried to get her brother alone, but it was nearly impossible. So she waited until they’d returned to their marui to retire for the evening to bring it up.
“Aonung,” she began carefully. They were alone, their parents always the last to return as Olo’eyktan and Tsahik. “I saw you introduced Neteyam to Anak.” She watched her brother carefully, but his nonchalance gave away nothing. “Hm? Oh, yes.” “Did Anak like him?” Tsireya didn’t really know how to breach the big question.
Aonung prepared his sleeping mat, glancing at Tsireya with mild confusion. “Yes, they seemed to get on well.” “What does Anak think?” Aonung was clearly growing exasperated now. “What does Anak think about what, Tsireya?”
“Neteyam,” Tsireya answered, like it was obvious. Aonung fully stopped messing with his bed to turn and fix his younger sister with an unimpressed stare, his eyes narrowed. “Sister, what are you on about?”
Tsireya sighed. Clearly, she was quite bad at subtly coaxing information out of people. “Nothing, brother, do not mind me. I am glad you enjoyed the festivities with Neteyam.” Aonung looked suspicious, but accepted it and settled into bed. “Goodnight, Reya.” “Goodnight, Aonung.”
He could play dumb all he wanted, but Tsireya knew what she had seen.
Neytiri noticed immediately that Aonung was the one who pulled her son from the water, and Aonung was the one cradling Neteyam on the rock, and Aonung was somehow the most distraught of all the children. But she could hardly pay that any mind when her eldest son was bleeding out.
She screamed at Jake to do something, and Jake dropped to his knees and rolled Neteyam onto his side in Aonung’s hold, checking for an exit wound. He hissed when he saw the blood pouring out of Neteyam’s back. “Aonung, put pressure on the wound on his chest,” Jake commanded as he applied pressure to the exit wound.
Aonung let out a choked sort of sound, before adjusting Neteyam so his head was cushioned by Aonung’s thighs and pressing his large, finned hand against the hole in Neteyam’s chest. He applied pressure as Toruk Makto instructed, and Neteyam cried out, burying his face in Aonung’s lap.
Neytiri watched, for a moment of stillness, as Aonung took his free hand, which had been stroking Neteyam’s hair, and brought it to Neteyam’s face, gently tilting it upwards from his lap. Neteyam opened teary eyes to look up at Aonung and their gazes locked. Neytiri could tell immediately they were communicating through their gaze. Not unlike Tonowari and Ronal. Not unlike herself and Jake.
Aonung didn’t remove his free hand from the side of Neteyam’s face.
“We need to get him back to the village,” Jake interrupted Neytiri’s silent observation. “Quaritch still has Tuk and Kiri,” Lo’ak cut in, desperation clear in his voice. Neytiri felt that desperation to her core as her son bled out while her daughters were in the hands of a monster.
She looked to Jake to find him looking just as torn. Suddenly, Tsireya splashed out of the ocean and onto the rock, and Neytiri startled. She’d forgotten the girl was with them. Tsireya was clutching an abundance of what looked like glowing seaweed. “Go, go save them!” Tsireya told Jake. She turned to Neytiri. “Your daughters need you, my brother and I will get your son to safety and get him help.”
She didn’t wait for a reply, dropping to her knees and shouldering Jake back with urgency. Aonung immediately knew what she was doing, and began to help her wrap the seaweed around Neteyam’s chest and back. The siblings worked quickly and with such certainty that Neytiri allowed Jake to pull her away, and they rushed to Kiri and Tuk.
When the battle was over and Neytiri had accounted for all of her younger children, she led the family in the rush back to the village, desperate to learn her son’s fate. As soon as her feet hit the sandy beach she was sprinting straight to the Tsahik’s marui.
All formalities were forgotten as she barged through the entryway, and stopped dead in her tracks once inside. Neteyam was alive, at least, he must be, because Ronal was feverishly working on him. Aonung sat on the side of Neteyam his mother didn’t occupy, hugging his knees to his chest and covered in Neteyam’s blood.
Tsireya was obviously trying to comfort him, but he did not respond to her.
Neytiri couldn’t bring herself to wonder if Ronal would be successful in saving Neteyam, so instead she dropped to a crouch in front of Aonung, taking the young man’s face gently in her hands. His eyes widened in surprise, shining with tears. “You did good,” Neytiri told him. “You did very good for my son.”
Her words broke something in him, and his face scrunched up before he let out a choked sob that he had obviously tried to hold back. Neytiri pulled him into a hug and he clung to her, sobbing. Over his shoulder, she made eye contact with Ronal.
No words were spoken, but a silent understanding was had.
Ronal was initially relieved to see Tsireya running out of the water, but the panic and pain in her daughter’s eyes made the relief short-lived. The girl was so upset she stumbled over words and sobs, unable to get her story out. Ronal held her by the arms. “Daughter, mawey, what has happened, where is your brother!?”
She heard him before she saw him. “MOTHER!” Aonung screamed over the chaos. Ronal’s head snapped up to see him running out of the water, carrying a darker blue Na’vi. Surely, one of the Sully children, but Ronal wasn’t sure which yet. All she knew was that her son was covered in blood.
“MOTHER, HELP!” Aonung screamed again, and Ronal ran towards him, reaching him as his feet reached dry sand. He was carrying Neteyam, and the blood was his, from a wound on his chest covered by seaweed wrappings, clearly the work of Tsireya. He was unconscious and barely breathing.
“Help, help him, Mother, please, please, save him,” Aonung rambled, tears pouring down his face as he practically hyperventilated. “Come,” Ronal commanded. There was no time for comfort.
Upon reaching the marui and having Aonung lay Neteyam on a mat, Ronal would come to realize Neteyam’s injuries were far graver than she’d thought. But she was Tsahik, and she would not let such a young soul die so horrifically. Especially not one who seemed to mean so much to her son.
Aonung did not leave Neteyam’s side the entire time, not even when Neytiri arrived. He stared ahead blankly, occasionally staring at his hands, stained red with Neteyam’s blood. Tsireya tried to comfort him, but he did not react.
Ronal was grateful when Neytiri comforted him rather than making him move.
It was hours before Ronal stepped back from Neteyam. The entire Sully family was in the marui by that point, and they all looked at her expectantly. Even Aonung raised his head. “I have done all I can. The bleeding is stopped. He is breathing. But I cannot say when… or if, he will awake.”
No one replied, but Ronal hadn’t expected a response from the grieved family.
“Jake,” Neytiri finally spoke, her eyes never leaving Neteyam. “Take the children home. They must rest. I will stay.” Jake obviously didn’t want to leave, but he looked at his other children and knew it was for the best. He picked up Tuk, who had long since fallen asleep, and thanked Ronal before leading Kiri and Lo’ak out.
Tonowari had returned briefly before Ronal had finished, and taken Tsireya to the separated section of their family marui where they all slept, leaving Neytiri, Aonung, and Ronal with Neteyam.
“I will prepare a sleeping mat for you,” Ronal told Neytiri. She nodded her thanks, finally taking a place at her son’s side. “Aonung,” Ronal gently tried her son. “You should go sleep.” “I stay,” he replied, voice hoarse from screaming and crying.
Ronal looked at Neytiri, who nodded her head in acceptance. “Fine. I will bring a mat for you too.”
Ronal would return at sunrise to find Neytiri still awake, watching her son’s chest fall and rise with breath. Aonung, however, had finally fallen asleep, his mat pushed up against Neteyam’s, and a hand resting on Neteyam’s stomach to feel the reaffirming warmth of life.
Ronal had known the second Aonung had brought Neteyam to her that her son was in love with Jake and Neytiri’s eldest. But the more time went on, the more obvious it became that their bond was far deeper than anticipated. Ronal had never seen Aonung so distraught, and he refused to leave Neteyam’s side.
It took six days and five restless nights for Neteyam to wake up, and Aonung was with him the entire time. On the sixth day, it was Ronal, Jake, and Aonung in the marui with Neteyam. Ronal had just finished making sure Neteyam was still stable, and Jake was in the corner, quiet and stoic as a grieving father.
Neytiri was tending to Tuk at their marui, and Tsireya and Rotxo had convinced Lo’ak and Kiri to go swimming to ease their hearts.
Aonung was in the same position he always was, next to Neteyam. He was sitting with his legs crossed, a hand resting carefully on Neteyam’s abdomen to feel his breath, a habit picked up from the first night that he had yet to stop. His eyes were closed, and Ronal watched him with worry.
Then movement from the body below him tore her eyes away. Neteyam’s hand twitched. Then, his tail. Then, Ronal watched in amazement as Neteyam lifted his hand, and placed it on top of the hand Aonung had resting on him.
Aonung’s eyes flew open and he startled. “Neteyam!” Jake jumped to his feet and rushed to Neteyam’s other side. Ronal joined him, kneeling beside him.
Neteyam groaned at Aonung’s exclamation of his name. Ronal could see his eyes moving rapidly behind his eyelids, but he had yet to open them. “Ao…nung?” Neteyam’s voice was raspy and coarse from lack of usage, and Aonung snapped his head towards Jake, pointing behind him. “Water, water!”
Ronal would have scolded him for commanding Jake Sully like that, but Jake obviously didn’t care in a moment like this, retrieving the cup of water in an instant.
Aonung took Neteyam’s hand in his and bent over him, using his other hand to stroke Neteyam’s cheek. “Yes, Teyam, I’m here, I’m right here, I never left you.” Neteyam’s eyelids fluttered before finally peeling open, and of course the first person his eyes found was Aonung.
Ronal watched as the brightest smile she had ever seen broke across her son’s face. “Neteyam,” he breathed. “Thirsty,” Neteyam croaked. Aonung moved fast, gently helping Neteyam up so he could slide behind him, using his own chest to prop Neteyam up so Jake could help him drink.
Ronal was happy that Neteyam was alright, happy that her son was alright, but now that everything had calmed, she couldn’t help but wonder how long Aonung had been keeping this relationship from her.
She would ask him about it later. This was a joyous moment.
It took about two weeks before Neteyam was back on his feet, and the Metkayina threw a celebration for the young warrior’s return to life. It was there that Aonung and Neteyam announced to their family, hand-in-hand, that they were mated.
“I’m not surprised,” Kiri scoffed. “I knew it!” Rotxo exclaimed. He and Kiri shared a grin. Lo’ak grumbled to himself, “I guess that makes sense.”
Jake and Tonowari laughed together, remembering their conversation only weeks earlier.
Neytiri and Ronal were the least surprised, sharing a look before Ronal demanded to know how long they had been mated without telling anyone.
Tuk’s boisterous laughter had everyone quieting down and turning to her. “It happened five months ago!” Tuk chortled, clearly amused by everyone’s reaction. “I thought you all knew! Wasn’t it obvious?” The youngest continued to have a good laugh at everyone’s expense, before Lo’ak jumped to his feet.
“TUK KNEW BEFORE I DID?”