Chapter Text
***MEETING***
When the Sullys first arrived, Aonung spent a long time 'sizing' some of them up.
Perhaps sizing 'one' of them up would be a more fitting word.
The oldest son of the Sullys did not say a word when Toruk Makto and the oloeyktan of metkayina were talking, with the former man asking for uturu. At the request, Ronal had done what Aonung had been doing ever since the newcomers landed: sized the Sullys up.
She commented on their thin arms and their small tails. She clashed with Toruk Makto's wife, the metkayina woman against the idea of letting someone infamous for 'attracting wars' live on their shores.
All the while, Aonung's eyes remained solely on one of them.
The oldest son of the Sullys.
Aonung wasn't sure if it was entirely intentional by the boy, but he was… expressive.
Not a word was spoken by the boy, yet Aonung could see every unspoken thought that the other boy thought of.
The disdain in the boy's golden eyes when Ronal grabbed the youngest of the Sully's tail. The disapproving furrow in his eyes when Ronal wordlessly grabbed the oldest daughter's arm. The sharp glare he sent Ronal's way when Ronal grabbed the only other son's hands to say that they 'have demon blood'.
Aonung watched the boy furrow his eyes, glare, clench his jaw when he's ticked by something said, flick his tail as a way to quietly 'rebel', and the metkayina couldn't help but suppress an amused snort at the sight.
It was even harder for the metkayina to not snicker in amusement when he noticed the oldest son straightening up and putting on a 'neutral' composure when Toruk Makto glanced his way.
Though all the urge to laugh and snicker disappeared when Aonung's father suddenly claimed Aonung and his sister, Tsireya, were to be the ones to guide the newcomers to adapt to the ways of the water.
Being amused by someone new and their demeanour was one thing. Having to guide someone new on the way of living was a whole and entirely other thing.
Unfortunately, Tonowari did not even bat an eye when Aonung tried to tell the oloeyktan that he had some 'concerns' about being the ones to guide the Sullys. The oloeykatan had raised his hand as a silent order for his son to be quiet, and that was it.
Being the 'obedient' son he was, Aonung went along with his father's request. (He was not obedient. At least not in the way his little sister was; but he respected his father. So he complied.)
It was… interesting. Being a guide to the forest people, that was.
It got boring a couple of times. Sometimes. A lot of the time.
Neteyam was the saving grace, most of the time.
There were a few things that could be called a 'saving grace' when it came to guiding the Sullys.
One: Picking on Loak and Kiri. (Kiri was less fun, considering how her reactions were often dismissive. It was fun to see Loak riled up, however.
Not in the same way it was to see Neteyam riled up, but still fun, nonetheless. With the former, it was a lot like watching an angry baby ilu, harmless yet fiery, but with the latter, it was…
It was a lot like watching something...
Aonung couldn't put it into words. It was simply that watching a riled up Neteyam would always manage to capture the metkayina's attention and keep him entertained.)
Two: Riling Neteyam up.
Three: Humoring Tuk when the omatikayan girl would ask him about the 'latest trends' of shells and trinkets.
Four: Watching Neteyam.
When Aonung had not enough energy to pick on Kiri or Loak, when Aonung wasn't feeling up for a confrontation to rile Neteyam up, when Tuk was not around to pester him with 'trivial' things, the metkayina boy gladly resorted to the fourth 'saving grace'.
The thing about Neteyam, was that he just couldn't seem to sit still. If he was not 'babysitting' - which was the only thing that he was usually busy with most of the time - he would be busying himself with whatever was asked of him by his mother and father. If that was not an option, then he would find things to busy himself with.
Like tends to his ikran. Or collect trinkets, shells, stones, and those alike for Tuk. Or practice; be it riding an ilu, or holding his breath. On rare occasions, he would go to the village, and talk to the metkayinas.
Not necessarily talk. Most of the metkayinas were all too weary of the Sullys to properly talk and befriend them. Sometimes, they would misspoke, both intentionally and unintentionally, and it was in these moments when Aonung would get to appreciate the fourth 'saving grace'.
Whenever anyone misspoke and said something inconsiderate and presumptuous, the corners of Neteyam's eyes would twitch very subtly.
The omatikayan's tail would flick once, his ears would twitch, and the painstaking effort he kept on trying to maintain 'friendliness' would falter barely noticeably, just as the smile he usually always had on his lips would.
The sight of the firstborn barely holding onto his threads was always such an amusing sight to Aonung's eyes.
The first to notice Neteyam's sudden 'interest' in the village was Tsireya, dedicated as she was to being the Sullys' guide. A few weeks ago, she had entered their family marui, exhausted and a tad restless as she told Aonung about how she found a couple of slightly older metkayinas 'picking on' Neteyam.
Apparently, Neteyam was just asking if they needed help, but the metkayinas all started saying how there was nothing the omatikayan could do - with his thin arms and weak tail - to help around the village.
Thankfully, Tsireya was right on time to interfere before the metkayinas could do anything 'stupid'.
For some reason, that night, seeing Tsireya so restless and tired, Aonung had volunteered himself to 'look after the Sullys' firstborn'. She had been elated enough to pull him into a tight hug, and while Aonung was delighted to know that he was able to make his sister so happy for once, he found himself wondering what possessed him to volunteer to do something 'selfless'.
Although, he couldn't find it in him to regret it once he realised how entertaining watching the omatikayan would be.
Whenever he had to intervene, Aonung always made it look like a coincidence. Coincidentally bumping into the metkayinas who were attempting to grab Neteyam's tail. Coincidentally telling the metkayinas that 'someone was asking for them' when they kept on trying to touch the beads in the omatikayan's hair or grab a hold of the omatikayan's thin arms.
Aonung couldn't blame them. They were simply curious about the newcomers.
Ever since he started 'watching over' the omatikayan, Aonung found himself a little too busy to join his friends on swims and hunts. He took his new task and promise to his sister very seriously. Tsireya is a gentle soul; he wouldn't dare to betray her trust.
At least that's what he told himself when he was asked why he kept on hovering over Neteyam from afar.
From Neteyam's visits to the village, Aonung had learned what the omatikayan looked like when he's annoyed and ticked. Perhaps that alone should have been enough. There was no merit to wasting his time quietly watching the other boy.
However, Aonung caught sight of the boy being scolded by Toruk Makto for failing to keep an eye out for his brother one day, and the metkayina had dropped everything to stare.
Stare at the omatikayan boy's drooped ears, at the way he slightly ducked his head from shame, at his tail that curled almost rigid and timidly by his leg, and at the hands clasped together and fidgeting with each other behind him.
Neteyam was a lot of things in front of others: dependable, responsible, polite, annoyed (to those who could see it), and well-mannered.
He was never ashamed. Not when others picked on him having 'demon blood', and especially not when swimming and riding an ilu didn't come as naturally to him as the metkayinas and even Loak. (Loak was the fastest of the Sullys to adapt to water. Whether it was the result of Tsireya's guidance, the boy's apparent fondness for the metkayina girl, or a secret third thing, Aonung wasn't sure.)
So the metkayina watched Neteyam walk away after he was scolded, and, by muscle memory alone, he tailed after the other boy.
He didn't have to. They were not at the village. He wasn't obligated to tail after the other boy.
And yet.
Neteyam walked until he was far enough from anyone else, stopping at the shore where the waves occasionally hit and wet the sand and his feet.
Aonung watched the omatikayan stare at his feet, his entire body oddly showing no signs of subconscious fidgeting and moving. His tail had been limp in his entire walk, just as his ears had been drooped.
The metkayina was not concerned. He was just curious. That's all.
Out of nowhere and without prompting, the omatikayan suddenly crouched right where he stood.
Aonung watched Neteyam hug his legs to his chest before burying his face in his knees. His tail curled around him, finally fidgeting a little as if he was irritated by something, and his ears pinned to his head.
It took a few moments for the metkayina to realise the boy was sulking.
Toruk Makto's firstborn. Sulking in broad daylight.
It was surely something he could use to rile up the other boy later. Maybe even used it against him.
However, all Aonung found himself feeling at the moment was the need to be closer.
It was just a thought. One that crossed his mind almost as thoughtlessly as the rest of his other thoughts. Although, before he knew it, suddenly he was standing close to the omatikayan, and his shadow loomed over the crouched boy.
He realised this at the same time Neteyam lifted his face out of his knees.
Their gazes met.
Neteyam's entire body, which had been relaxed, grew rigid at the sight of the metkayina, and Aonung couldn't quite explain the rush he felt at the sight. Had he not been 'familiar' with the other boy, he would have entirely missed that split moment of apprehension written all over the omatikayan's body.
"What are you doing here all by yourself, forest boy?" Came the words from Aonung's mouth, easy and as if he had been planning to ask that when, in truth, he hadn't even planned to approach the other.
The only times he would usually voluntarily approach the omatikayan boy were when he needed to interfere back at the village, or when they had their lessons with Tsireya.
Neteyam looked away, settling his gaze on the water at his feet. (He shifted his glare at the water because he didn't want Aonung to notice he wanted to glare at the metkayina.
Too bad for him; Aonung could read him as he did the constellations in the sky for directions.)
"…I just needed some time to myself," the omatikayan eventually answered, pressing his cheek on his knees. His braids fell off his shoulders, and Aonung found himself unexplainably staring at the expanse of neck peeking from under the omatikayan's choker before he forcefully pulled his eyes away.
"Your siblings have been causing problems again?" Aonung inquired, more so taunted, since he knew that the omatikayan would be offended that the metkayina suggested that his siblings were anything but 'a delight to have around'.
However, instead of an immediate glare from Neteyam, Aonung was surprised by the honesty in the omatikayan's mildly-laced-with-exhaustion words.
"They don't cause problems," Neteyam sighed, as if defeated. "It's just… problems are just attracted to them. Like ilus to fish. They don't actively look for trouble."
Aonung had been so surprised by the other's honesty, that all he could do was stare in silence. Having mistaken the silence as permission to continue, Neteyam prattled on.
"It has been a month or two since we landed here, but you metkayinas still are so tight-lipped and weary of us. Loak keeps on accidentally getting into trouble, Kiri keeps on wandering off to places that are getting increasingly harder to find, and Tuk is feeling more and more lonely because other children look at her with caution.
There's also the fact that I'm making the least progress in adapting. It's hard to focus on improving when I'm always thinking about keeping my siblings 'out of trouble' - especially when my anatomy is not built for the water.
These 'time to myself' moments are getting more frequent for me, but they're losing their usual effect of keeping me grounded.
It's frustrating. It's humiliating that I just- that I lagged behind my siblings in adapting when I'm supposed to be an example."
…those were a lot of words.
Aonung sort of felt awkward. He wasn't sure whether the feeling in his chest was regret for approaching the omatikayan or sympathy.
He didn't get to decide when Neteyam's entire body went rigid again, as if mortified.
Neteyam cleared his throat, embarrassed, before hastily standing up, avoiding eye contact with the oloeyktan's son.
"Sorry. For randomly dumping all that on you," he rushed to apologise, his tail flicking around from nerves, and his ears drooped. "I just- you can pretend you didn't hear a word I said."
Before leaving, Neteyam's gaze met Aonung's.
It was an accidental eye contact on Neteyam's part, Aonung believed. The omatikayan was quick to avert his gaze, before he attempted to leave.
He didn't get to.
Not when Aonung stopped him by grabbing his wrist.
Neteyam's beads in his hair clacked against each other when he abruptly turned to look at the metkayina, caught off guard at having his exit stopped.
Even Aonung himself was caught off guard at his own actions.
Aonung wasn't sure what possessed him to reach out. It wasn't his responsibility to help the other boy deal with his problems. He was supposed to just 'watch from afar' and 'intervene when necessary'.
As an offer came from him unplanned, he thought to himself: it must be pity.
"I can give you extra lessons if you're so afraid of 'lagging behind'."
Reasonably, Neteyam looked weary.
His ears were perked up, though. In Aonung's direction.
He was interested. Aonung would know. He couldn't count the number of times he caught Neteyam looking at things and people that caught his attention; ears perked up, a curious look on his face, and a ghost of a smile on his lips. (Those kinds of moments were few and far between. Aonung had gotten into the nasty habit of dropping everything just to properly look.
A dreadfully nasty habit. There were only so many made-up excuses he could give his friends on why he 'zoned out' before they would catch on.)
After another beat or two, Neteyam caved and asked, "And what do you get out of this?"
'Nothing valuable,' Aonung thought to himself.
Although, if these extra lessons were to work, perhaps Aonung would find it easier not to look and stare every time he crossed paths with the omatikayan. If these extra lessons were to be held, Aonung would have no reason to tiptoe around 'blatantly' watching the other, and, maybe, his 'instincts' to stare outside of his 'obligations' would tone down.
Perhaps these extra lessons would work in his favour, after all.
Rather than breaking down his thought process to the omatikayan, Aonung said with a dismissive smirk, "My father will appreciate my extra effort."
For some reason, Neteyam looked like he had seen the metkayina in a different light.
Then Aonung had the shock of his life when Neteyam smiled.
It was small, it was clearly suppressed and unintentional as the omatikayan attempted to disguise it with a cough.
But it was a smile.
Aonung's heart felt like it simultaneously stopped and launched itself out of his chest as if he was being chased by an akula at high speed.
"I guess seeking a father's validation is something universal," the omatikayan snickered, clearing his throat and so clearly trying to stop himself from grinning too hard.
He didn't have to grin for Aonung to note that the omatikayan was 'amused'. Not when the omatikayan's tail was more often than not always the giveaway to the boy's true feelings.
That was how a kind of camaraderie started between them.
The metkayina focused his attention on helping Neteyam, and, in doing so, he did get to further understand how the omatikayan 'worked'.
Aonung was always careful not to be caught blatantly 'staring'.
Most of the time, he started to notice these telltales that he didn't get to notice when he was watching from afar. Like how there were various ways the corner of Neteyam's lips would twitch subconsciously, whether he was feeling frustrated or pleased with himself. There's also a slight difference between the way his shoulders tensed because he's upset with himself for not exceeding his own expectations and the way his shoulders tensed when he's thinking about concerns that he didn't bother to say out loud.
Aonung had no clue why he was doing this. Why was he studying the omatikayan boy so diligently that it was borderline obsessive?
It felt almost fulfilling to be able to understand the other boy. It could be because it aggravated the metkayina how Neteyam always tried so hard to pretend. It could also be because there's a new kick he got out of purposely joking around and irritating the omatikayan when he knew what to look for.
Calling the omatikayan out for his terrible posture on an ilu when Aonung could read from the lines of the omatikayan's back alone that the boy was stressed because he couldn't comfortably sit on the ilu.
Accusing the omatikayan of being incapable of holding his breath longer because he was 'nervous around the oloeyktan's son', when Aonung knew that Neteyam was just beating himself up over the fact that he didn't know why it was so hard for him to hold his breath for long. (Neteyam had flushed a beautiful shade of purple at the accusation thrown.
Aonung never dared to accuse Neteyam of the same thing ever again, because he refused to believe his mind had decided that the word 'beautiful' was 'acceptable' in the same sentence as 'Neteyam'.)
He knew what to look for, and, hence, he knew just what to say to get what he wanted.
With the extra lessons, Aonung found himself only ever resorting to 'saving grace number four', as Neteyam alone was enough to keep him entertained for days on end. Their 'camaraderie' somewhat 'flourished' as they shared more lessons together, and Aonung found himself content.
That was until he was reminded of how fun riling someone up was, and that it had been far too long since he last riled anyone up properly.
During his lessons with Neteyam, at some point, Aonung had stopped riling the boy up, and instead preferred 'idle conversations' over seeing the omatikayan glaring at him.
When he realised this, he knew it had to be remedied.
In his first attempt to rile the other up to remind himself how fun that would be, it failed because he found the omatikayan at the village. He had been asked to pass a basket full of herbs to his mother, so he could say he 'coincidentally' bumped into Neteyam.
Some metkayinas were messing with Neteyam's hair beads, mocking grins on their lips, while the omatikayan swatted their hands away, for once not dense enough to not notice that he was being made fun of.
Aonung thought he would just wait for the omatikayan to leave the metkayinas, but then one of the reef people reached out and grabbed Neteyam's wrist, and Aonung noticed the suppressed wince from the omatikayan.
Before he knew it, Aonung was suddenly there.
He grabbed the metkayina's wrist and gripped it tight enough that the metkayina frantically pulled his hand away, before he snapped, "Can't you see he's trying to leave?"
Aonung didn't know what was on his face.
Whatever it was, it was enough to send the metkayinas running with their tails tucked between their legs after profusely apologising.
Aonung realised the moment he saw the astonished look on the other metkayinas' faces that he 'messed up' somehow.
Why was he so 'mad'?
Those metkayinas weren't the first to rudely grab and shove Neteyam. They surely wouldn't be the last.
Usually, Aonung would step in only when Neteyam seemed to be forced to raise his own hands.
So what in Eywa was that?
It didn't help that, when Neteyam looked at him, the omatikayan looked 'calculating' .
Like he wanted to make sense of what's going on inside the metkayina's head.
Neteyam also looked touched, as if Aonung had just defended him. (He totally did, didn't he?)
In a panic, he left without a word.
His first attempt ended with him having a somewhat-crisis that he adamantly chose to ignore.
If he couldn't rile up Neteyam, then he'd rile up Kiri and Loak.
His second attempt went smoother. Way better than it had with Neteyam.
It went smoothly enough that Neteyam came and was the one who tried to break off the 'fight'. Shoving Aonung and pressing a finger to the said metkayina's chest to tell him to back off.
The rush he had with having the other so close, fierce eyes burning and glaring at him, was worlds different than the rush he felt picking on Kiri and Loak.
It scared him a little. (It scared him how good it felt to be 'seen' by the omatikayan.)
Neteyam's tail was rigid, and his entire attention was on Aonung and him alone.
It even felt a little dizzying.
The fight Neteyam had momentarily managed to break off, unfortunately, proceeded anyway when Loak threw the first punch. Aonung sported bruises and cuts of his own on his face. The cut on Neteyam's lips kept catching Aonung's attention, but that was not important.
Wanting to feel that rush again, Aonung wondered what else he could do to get the omatikayan to be so fierce. Camraderie be damned.
Eywa must have heard his prayer, for Loak came to him apologising, and an idea immediately formed in his head.
That was how he came up with the bright idea of leaving Loak stranded.
He returned to Awa'atlu immediately after tricking the younger Na'vi, looking for Neteyam and eager to 'break the news'.
When he did break the news, he was right: Neteyam had gotten so angry, he grabbed Aonung by the base of the metkayina's kuru, and dragged him to the Sullys' marui in front of everyone who happened to be wandering around in the village.
Neteyam had gotten so angry, that even when everything died down, even when Aonung had apologised and, perhaps, felt a little guilty that Loak could have been eaten by an akula, the omatikayan avoided him.
Their extra lessons stopped instantly, and Aonung?
Aonung went back to watching from afar.
It surely was 'karma'. Whatever the word was that Kiri had used when she commented off-handedly on why the metkayina no longer had private lessons with her oldest brother.
It didn't matter. Aonung could live just fine without those personal lessons. It was Neteyam who was missing out.
(At least that's what Aonung repeatedly told himself anyway.)
Aonung's life reverted to how it was before he and Neteyam had those extra lessons: lazying around, picking on Kiri and Loak (but they no longer took him seriously, since, surprisingly, they saw him as a friend after the whole incident), crouching with Tuk to find shells by the shores, attempting to rile Neteyam up (ignored), and watching Neteyam from afar.
It was fine. Nothing to write about.
Aonung still kept his observations of the omatikayan to himself. He still only watched Neteyam from afar when the omatikayan went into the village to help around, and intervened only when he absolutely needed to.
The metkayinas and their curiosity knew no bounds, Aonung found.
Still. It gets to a point.
It got to a point when Aonung found himself stepping in and, perhaps, in the process, had a few epiphanies of his own.
***TBC***