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"This storm will pass," Tsierya says, watching softly as he walks ahead of her.
He does not answer. He does not say anything. His frustration is evident in the tension of his shoulders, in how he looks away from her. But it has nothing to do with her. It had everything to do with the circumstances of Payakan and how he did not feel seen by the others, especially the adults, around him. Because she knew it was not directed at her when he carefully looked over his shoulder to her, ensuring that the fern was out of her way as she followed him.
A small action, yet a choice to see her when he was struggling with his own demons. It was more than enough to make her more determined. Determined to make him feel seen.
"Lo'ak, I saw something today," she continues, her voice as soothing as before. He stops walking ahead of her, patient enough to hear her out and accept her touch. "I saw a forest boy chosen by Tulkun. I am very proud of you."
"Payakan did not kill those boys," Lo'ak slowly tells her, glancing at her as she does not deny his explanation. His voice grows thicker as he realises that someone will finally listen to him. "I saw it all. The demon ship killed his mother right in front of him. He gathered the young bulls and reef boys together to attack the ship and they were all killed. But by the Sky People. Not by him. He's not a killer."
"No," Tsireya quietly objects to his answer. "By the Tulkun way he is. He bears those deaths."
"Does he have to pay for it the rest of his life?" Lo'ak shifts, his ears flattening. "He knows what he did is wrong. He would never do it again."
Tsierya's ears also flatten. She hesitates and sighs, considering how she could bring peace to this situation. End Lo'ak's suffering. She was certain that she was proud of him for forming Tsaheylu with a Tulkun. She had never heard of a forest Na'vi, let alone a Na'vi from the Omatikaya Clan bond with a Tulkun. Yet, he had formed a bond with Payakan. Infamous for dark reasons. Killer by the Tulkun ways. But she was also Lo'ak's friend and maybe one of the few people who were willing to hear him out. He was an individual with a strong heart. Ambitious. Reckless, maybe. But all with good intentions. So why would he lie about Payakan? Maybe there was another side to the story. If she told her father about it maybe he could realise that Lo'ak did not go to such lengths for no reason.
"We must tell my father," Tsireya takes his hand.
"No," Lo'ak protests, lightly clasping her wrist. "No, I'm in enough trouble with my dad already."
"Your father will understand," Tsireya frowns.
"He won't," Lo'ak insists and shakes his head. "He doesn't understand anything. The whole clan hates me. Demon blood. Alien. That's all they see."
He lets go of her, stepping away. He holds up his right hand, spreading out his five fingers. An extra that did not belong to a Na'vi. An extra that belonged to the demons who came from the sky. Something stark and offensive to the eye. But Tsierya's eyes shift and gaze down at his hand, considering his reasoning, considering the extra finger, before she grasps his alien hand with both of her own, moving across his skin, his knuckles and soon into a tight hold over his fifth finger.
"I see you," Tsireya confesses, gazing into his eyes.
Lo'ak gazes back into hers. His ears perk up. He feels something tighten in his chest. I see you. Tsireya sees him. Those were her own words. Words that left her mouth after being formed in the heart. I see into you. I understand you. I respect you. I love you. She set aside any preconceived ideas about him—his hands, his eyebrows, his troubled sky person nature—and saw him as he was in a spiritual sense, in the deepest form of respect she could offer. But she has ceased any speech that could come from him.
"You are brother of Tulkun," Tsireya continues, then gives him a small smile. "You are one of us now."
He continues to gaze down at her in silence. But as she asserts more acceptance, he also shares a small smile with her. But it was brief and his eyes were reluctant. Almost as if he believed her words were too good to be true. Tsireya's smile twitches back into a frown. Of course he believed that he words would be too good to be true. He had probably heard everything wrong with his features and behaviour for his entire life. It's hard to believe something when you have been told another for so long. But she would make him believe.
"Lo'ak," she steps closer, squeezing his hand.
His fingers hesitantly intertwine with her own, but when his gaze draws away from her and back to his fingers, he frowns down at his own features again. Tsireya watches the frustration strain his face and decides she won't let it continue anymore. Pulling him by the hand, she leans in and presses her mouth against his. She shuts her eyes, wondering if she was doing something so intimate the right way. Kissing was something they did, but not often and it was not nearly as sacred as Tsaheylu was. But then his hand tenses in hers, before quickly tightening over her fingers. He raises a free hand, barely grazing the side of her face. She thought she was doing something right—but then he pulls away from her, his hand slipping from hers entirely.
Lo'ak steps away, his yellow eyes wide under dark, furrowed brows. His right hand shakes and his chest begins to heave. What was he thinking? How could she want to kiss him? He came from the Sky People who terrorised the Na'vi and the Tulkun. He had alien features. Demon blood. How could she ignore the extra finger that intertwined with hers? And how could he be with a girl like her? Kind. Intelligent. Patient. The Tsakarem of the Metkayina. The chosen next Tsahik. He was half a demon who as not even accepted by his own clan.
"Tsireya, Tsakarem of the Metkayina, forgive me," Lo'ak says, calling her by her title and bowing his head. "You do not have to comfort me."
"Lo'ak," Tsireya quietly extends a hand, tilting her head in disappointment. "I am not comforting you by kissing you. I did it because I wanted to."
"Because you wanted to?" Lo'ak mutters.
"Because I wanted to," Tsierya repeats. "Now, please, take my hand."
Lo'ak stares between her and his hand, before he closes the distance between them, this time being the one to grasp her hand in his. He glances at how much smaller her hands are than his—and for the first time he he hates his extra finger a little less, as it's just another way for his hand to envelop hers. When he brings his other hand back to the side of her face for a second time, he does not just graze her skin, he presses it against the curve of her cheekbone and traces a fingertip agaisnt the swirling stripes of her skin and the bioluminescence that begins to peek through as the moon starts to rise. This time, looking down into her soft but expectant eyes, he kisses her. He brings his lips to hers, at first clumsy and slow, before his grasp tightens on the side of her face and their kiss feels firmer. Her eyes shut, nails digging ever so slightly into his skin. He watches as she settles against him, pressing their hands to his chest, wanting to know that she was okay, before his eyes also fall shut, realising why kissing was considered so personal. Again, he slowly breaks it, but keeps her close. He did not want to go any further out of respect.
"You are okay, Tsireya?" he quietly asks, searching her features for any discontent.
She shakes her head, slightly confused, before softening when she realises he's worried. "Yes, Lo'ak."
"Then, I owe you this," he exhales, trying to find the right words. "I have never felt so seen—and I see you."
"They will all see you soon," Tsierya's gaze parts from his eyes, as she brings his hand closer to her again. She bows her head and presses a firm kiss to his extra finger. "Just like I see you—every part of you."