Chapter Text
Aonung surfaces right where his sister is resting on a large reef sticking out of the ocean. When he grabs the edge, he pulls himself up next to Tsireya. “Sister?” he asks when he notices she’s sobbing.
She looks up at him, tears dripping down her cheeks. “He’s gone, Aonung,” she whispers.
That’s when he notices another body laying with her. Neteyam, the boy who had no problem punching him to stand up for his brother and sister, lays out along the reef with a hole in his chest and blood leaking steadily into the water. His sister’s legs and arms are also covered in blood like she’d tried to stop the flow but it’d become too much for her. Slowly, Aonung moves closer to the boy, one hand going to his cheek and the other resting on his chest. “Neteyam, you cannot go, your family needs you,” he whispers. He doesn’t know why he’s suddenly so upset, all he knows is that this isn’t right.
This isn’t what Eywa has planned for any of them. It can’t be.
Behind him, Tsireya cries harder and he hears Rotxo climb from the water to comfort her. “Lo’ak asked me to stay with him,” she says. “His sisters are on the ship with that man. They’re awful. Oh Aonung, it was awful.”
Rage burns in his gut. This isn’t right. None of this should be happening. Unable to help himself, he leans down and presses his forehead against the Neteyam’s still—
Neteyam’s chest is not still. It is a very small movement, one that if he were not so close he wouldn’t notice. Aonung presses his fingers to the boy’s neck, his pulse beats weakly beneath his fingers but it’s there. “H-he’s alive!”
“Wh-what?” Tsireya says.
He sits up and very carefully moves so he can pull Neteyam into his lap so his back is to Aonung’s chest. If he can slow the bleeding, it will give them more time. “Tsireya, go below and get a txampaysye and the healing herbs mother used when you stabbed me with your spear. Roxto, find my parents, and be fast!”
The two quickly do as he says, neither arguing as the very dangerous feeling of hope blooms in all of them. Aonung prays to Eywa his mother arrive soon, Neteyam’s heartbeat is so weak there can’t be much time. “Hold on, just hold on,” he whispers.
An image of the forest Na’vi comes to his mind. Aonung remembers a week after they first arrived spotting Neteyam on the docks late one night. He’d been there staring up at the sky with a look so full of longing that it made Metkayinan’s heart pound. He didn’t understand what the feeling meant, or why every time after he felt that same heart-pounding feeling and flushness in his cheeks. He’d covered it up by being, well, a bully. That was why he’d begun tormenting the younger Sully kids. That feeling never went away though, it was only accompanied by shame when he saw the anger from Neteyam.
“You have to hold on,” Aonung says, “I know it hurts. I know going to Eywa is easier, but please just stay here. Your family needs you.”
Splashing water washes up on the reef. “Here!” Tsireya passes him a bundle of herbs. Some of them glow and other do not. “There weren’t any txampaysye anywhere close and I didn’t want to take too long.” She uses a rock from the bottom of the sea and grounds up the herbs, turning some into a finer almost paste-like material as she mutters prayers and chants their mother taught her.
He only nods as he watches her work. Aunong can’t help but think that she will make an amazing tsahìk. They’d once joked that should Aunong never mate, she would help him lead the clan. While many tsahik and Olo’eyktan do mate, it is not unheard of for them to just be close friends or even siblings.
Once she finishes, he very carefully begins packing at the hole in Neteyam’s back, his sister following his lead and doing the same to his chest. The herbs aren’t much, they’ll prevent infection and slow the bleeding, but it may not be enough to save their friend. Neteyam needs something to help ground him, that’s why he wanted the txampaysye, not only will it help Neteyam breathe, but the connection just might be enough for his consciousness to remain with his body.
A connection.
Aonung grabs the end of his kuru then Neteyam’s. Doing what he’s about to do is one of the most intimate connections a Na’vi can make. It is usually reserved for life mates, but the action just might be enough to tether the other to life. Tsireya watches him with wide eyes, tears still spilling down her cheeks. For just a second he considers not doing it, not making tsaheylu but the alternative is much worse.
He didn’t like these people when they joined their clan. Outsiders with demon blood, he’d been afraid of what would happen with them joining their clan. That fear had not been misplaced, but he does not regret them coming here. He does not regret Neteyam joining them.
Aonung knows that if he doesn’t do this, he will regret the decision for the rest of his life. So, with a deep breath, he presses their braids together and lets the connection form.
The second their minds touch, everything seems to come alive all at once. A flood of pain and emotion fills him so fast and so hard that it takes him a nice long moment to catch his breath. Even then, he has to take a while to sort through what feelings are his and which are Neteyam’s. The most notable is the fear and the coldness seeping into every edge of his mind.
Aonung tries not to let it consume him. Instead, he does his best to wade through everything and find Neteyam and not just his feelings. Somewhere deep in the coldness and fear, he finds the smallest speck of light. The light is dim, fading in and out as the cold tries to take it away. Aonung does the first thing he can think of and throws his arms around it.
Who….who is there…?
The voice is so small but it’s unmistakable Neteyam. It’s Aonung.
Aonung….I want to go home.
The pure need in those words nearly shocks Aonung to his core. He’s seen Neteyam be so strong, he’s seen him take care of his siblings with such ease and master their clan’s ways while barely blinking an eye, but now he seems so…small. He suddenly has the image of a small child curled up hiding from the dark. Just breathe, and I’ll get you home.
Neteyam’s consciousness flickers and pulses for a moment before seeming to huddle closer to Aonung. And the Metkayinan does the only thing he can think of, he holds on tighter, imagining himself lending breath and peace to the Omatikayan who so desperately needs it.
“Aonung!” He’s pulled halfway from the connection by his father grabbing his shoulders. “My son, are you alright?”
“I…” he has to blink a few times to focus on what’s happening now. Neteyam’s light, that dim little light, is still there in his mind, and keeps a strong hold on it. “I’m fine. Neteyam, he’s still alive. Where’s Mom?”
“I am here.” Ronal is leaning over Neteyam’s chest, carefully checking the packing Aonung and Tsireya did. She nods approvingly. “Your quick work may have saved his life. We must get him to the Cove.”
Tonowari calls his mount closer. “Come, Aonung, you will hold him while we ride.”
With his father’s help, they gather Neteyam on the tsurak, Aunong keeping a tight hold on the tree-dweller.
“I’m staying,” Tsireya says. “Someone has to tell them when they get back.”
Ronal grunts, she does not look very pleased by this. “Rotxo, you stay with her. If the Sky People come closer, you drag her away if you must.” The boy nods and moves out of the way of the tsurak before they take off. She gives her daughter and Roxto a hard look. “When they return, bring them to the Cove. Do not delay. If Neteyam is to survive, their presence will be needed.” She says nothing more as she takes off after her mate and son.
Aonung has half his focus on keeping his arms around Neteyam’s still form and the other half on the Omatikayan consciousness. The longer they’re linked, the calmer he can feel Neteyam becoming. The light doesn’t brighten, but the flickering is less and less as it seems to try and hold on. Aunong isn’t sure if it’s wishful thinking or not, but he swears he can feel Neteyam’s chest moving just the slightest bit. The relief and excitement he suddenly feels nearly makes him fall off his father’s mount but he holds on. Losing concentration right now isn’t an option.
Tonwari keeps a steady hand on his son as they ride toward the cove. The fighting continues around them and he hears shouts from their people.
Aonung tries not to feel guilty that he’s not fighting alongside his clan as he should be, but none of those they pass seem angry. In fact, those who catch sight of the unconscious Omatikayan understand. This is a boy under their protection. They must ensure his survival for their clan’s honor.
And many of their clan have come to care for the Sullys. Despite the teasing and the…bullying from the younger members, the Sullys have all been nothing but respectful in trying to learn their clan's ways. Embracing the traditions with open and humble hearts.
Aonung wishes he’d treated them better when they’d arrived.
His father’s tsurak breaks through to the Cove and they race for the tree. Tonowari helps him with Neteyam and they lay him in Eywa’s grasp. The seagrass pulses and dances around them until it seems to suction to the Na’vi laying motionless.
Disconnect the tsaheylu, Tonowari signs.
Aonung has never so violently wanted to reject something in his life. The very thought of letting go of Neteyam’s consciousness seems like a death sentence.
Soft hands rest on his shoulders. His mother. Aunong almost forgot she’d been right behind them. It is alright. You both must connect to Eywa now. You have made a bond with him. It will help guide him back with Eywa’s healing hands.
Then she backs away, beginning to ask Eywa’s aid in healing.
Slowly he reaches for where they’re connected. Neteyam, he whispers into the fledgling bond, I need you to hold on for just a little bit. We’re at the Cove of the Ancestors. I must leave you for just a second.
He can feel Neteyam’s hesitance and fear spiking. You’ll come back?
I promise. I will not leave you.
With not much more time and reassurance, Aunong reluctantly disconnects their kuru. Despite not having the tsaheylu any longer, Aunong can still feel Neteyam. It’s like the Omatikayan carved himself a little space inside the Metkayinan’s heart.
Blinking back the sudden tears he feels lays Neteyam’s braid against the tree. It takes a second longer than Aunong would like for the connection to take but when it does, the pretty sunspots that dot Neteyam’s body light up.
Aunong feels like he could cry as he watches. Even the tiniest signs of life bring great relief.
Tonowari, kneeling next to his son, gently removes the herbs and plants his children used to pack the wound. Dad, Aunong signs, I don’t know if I did the right thing.
What if he’d only put off the inevitable?
His father grabs his shoulders. You did what Eywa guided you to do. It was the right thing, even if it does not bear fruit. I am proud to call you my son, the future Olo’eyktan.
All he’s ever wanted was to hear those words from his parents. He knows they love him, and he knows they want him to do well, but he’s missed their praise the older he’s gotten. The older he’s gotten, the bigger the expectations have become. Becoming the next Olo’eyktan is a great honor Aunong will bear, but that does not mean it doesn’t terrify him. Tonowari presses their foreheads together for just a moment and Aunong allows himself to feel selfish and cling to the comfort it brings him.
After another second they both pull away. As Aunong prepares to connect with Eywa, Tonowari shakes his head and has him make the bond right where Neteyam is connected. He doesn’t question his father.
A whirlpool-like feeling envelopes him, yanking him deeper and deeper into Ewya’s grasp. Memories flood his mind, his own, his people’s, then ones he does not know. Those of a forest and clouds, soaring through the sky on the back of great creatures. Despite the jarring memories, he’s able to catch glimpses of a small Na’vi boy. Moments of him learning to fish, making his first bracelet, weaving his song cord, learning from his grandmother.
Memories that are so much like Aunong’s yet so different all at the same time.
It all comes to a halt and Aunong finds himself tumbling through a treeline at the top of a beautiful cliff. Along the edge of a cliff is a large tree and there, at the base of the tree, is Neteyam.
The Omatikayan is sitting with his knees pulled to his chest and a shaw, one Aunong has seen Neytiri wearing, wrapped around his shoulder. The Metkayinan's heart seems to leap into his throat and he rushes to the other, carefully kneeling in front of him. “Neteyam?”
He looks up, blinking back tears as he does. “I can feel her, Aunong. I can feel her everywhere.”
“I can feel her too,” Aunong says. He can’t help but lay his hands on Neteyam’s arms, needing to touch him in some way. “She is going to heal you.”
One of his tears drips down his cheeks. “It doesn’t hurt. If I say here. It doesn’t hurt.”
“I know you’re in a lot of pain, but my mother and Eywa can heal your wound. It will take time, and you will hurt for some time, but you will be ok.” Another tear slides down Neteyam’s cheek and he can’t resist reaching up and brushing it away. “I know I have hurt you, you and your family, but I want to help you.”
Neteyam looks out over the cliff. It’s a beautiful sight, the way the sky looks out over the mountains and the forest. He can understand why some would choose to live there. “I miss home,” Neteyam whispers. “I-I didn’t want to leave.” Once one tear has fallen, more follow until they’re just pouring down his pretty cheeks.
And suddenly Aunong feels even worse for how he treated the Sullys when they came here. They came for safety, for protection, and Aunong and his friends bullied and teased them mercilessly. Called them demons for their blood, something they can not control. They have done nothing to deserve any of it, just as they did not deserve to be driven from their home. “I’ll take you there when you’re healed.”
Neteyam looks back at him. “You will?”
He nods. “Whether it's to stay or to visit, I’ll get you back to see your home.” The floating mountain range is breathtaking, and right now it’s only a memory. He wonders what it would be like in real life. “I think I would like to visit. But I will need someone to show me the way of your people. I don’t think I’d like to learn from Lo’ak. Think you could teach me?”
He sniffles. “I-I think so.”
Aunong smiles and stands. “Let’s go back then. I’m sure your parents and siblings miss you.”
Neteyam looks up at him, teary eyes filled with pain and fear but also a little bit of hope. “You won’t leave me, right?”
“I swear, I’ll stay with you the entire time.”
Neteyam takes his hand.