Work Text:
The news shouldn’t be met with a particularly large reaction, but Neytiri drops lower to the ground regardless, hissing ferociously. “Gone?” she asks, “Three days, gone. During the first rain!”
Jake waves his arms appeasingly, leaving them up just in case. “I’ll be right back! We can enjoy the rain as soon as I’ll be healed, promise.”
“Gah!” she snaps, “You can be healed here. You will not leave me to meet the first rains alone .”
“I… really can’t,” he says regretfully. “I need surgery to get the chip out, it’s deep in there. And this is the only time soon enough.”
She stalks closer, smacking his chest. “All three days, sur-gee-ree?” she asks, worried despite her anger. Then she adds: “Not a moment for your bonded?”
“It doesn’t take that long, but I can’t use the avatar until the nerves are healed.”
She raises her eyebrows at him, calling him stupid silently. “Then I will come to you, and we will greet the rains together.”
He’s beginning to guess the first rains might be something of a big deal. “I’m really sorry, truly,” he says, hands soothing down her shoulders, “But I won’t be able to be this me until everything is healed.”
She comes further into his arms, eyes peering up to search his face thoughtfully. “But your sky-walker you,” she asks, “That you will not need to heal?”
He blinks. “Well, no. But that me can’t exactly come out here instead.”
“Legs,” she nods, understanding. “No matter, I am strong.” She leans up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips, apparently decided. “I will come see you, and we will greet the rain as bonded.”
Jake frowns, “Neytiri, I can’t greet the rain with you- I can’t walk. I can’t climb or swim or do anything you would need me to do.”
She shakes her head, “I do not need you to do any of these. I see you, Jake, that is enough. Whatever body your soul speaks through.” She holds her palm over his chest, right over the center where his heart beats. “Your soul is here, this body does not need to be.”
He draws back. “Outside of this body I’m just a human. Trust me, you will not like what you’ll see.”
“I already see, ” she hisses, offended. “I will see you small or big, but I will see you tomorrow.”
Lacking a way to explain to her just how inadequate he is as a human for someone like her, he switches to arguing logistics. Whatever issue he comes up with, she talks him into solving, often watching him with the nostalgic expression of “just how stupid are you” of their early relationship. Clearly, this really is important to her.
Finally, he sighs. “You’ll be disappointed,” he warns in defeat.
“You are my mate,” she says proudly, “I will have you in all the forms your soul calls home.”
Despite his complaints, the logistics aren’t that complex. After leaving the avatar with Grace and her gaggle of scientists, he catches a ride to one of the currently empty research stations, one close enough for Neytiri to travel to within the day.
Then he waits for her, human and unable to walk and with the mask he needs to wear fogging with every breath he takes, protecting him from the same air he is used to panting.
He doesn’t hear her in the trees, not with his human-deaf ears, but he can’t miss her when she lands in front of him, crouched warily.
“Jake?” she asks, uncertain.
“Neytiri.”
Something in his voice must prove his identity, her ears go from flattened against her skull to perked up. She braves the distance quickly, and Jake is hit by the realization of just how large she is.
She kneels down in front of him, and he swallows. She towers over him even when knelt. Her forearms are bigger than his arms .
Not about to start being shy now, her fingers ghost over his face, lightly tapping on the mask, then hover over his legs.
He waves a hand at the wheelchair. “Disappointed?” he asks with a tight smile.
She doesn’t reply, catching his hand in her own. Despite the size difference, she puts them together and smiles, eyes tracing the five fingers. Her hand makes its way over his forearm, shoulder, to his chest.
“I see you,” she says seriously, meeting his eyes through the glass.
A couple of minutes later, her ear twitches to the side.
“There is little time,” she observes. “We must go.”
She moves to pick him up but he halts her, “Whoa, go where? I thought we’ll stay here.”
Neytiri clicks her tongue. “Too low, we are far from the skies.”
“I cannot climb, Neytiri, I can’t go.”
She scoffs, and this time he doesn’t stop her when she gathers him carefully into her arms. “I am a capable climber. And you are small, will not slow me down.”
He holds on for dear life when she proves it.
Up on a tree branch, exposed to the skies, she sits down with him leaning between her legs.
He cannot get used to how small he is against her; this position is normally the exact opposite, with her lounging in his lap as if he was her personal throne, testing him on weave reading or any of the many other skills she still feels the need to teach him.
Her chest expands as she takes a deep breath, focusing her attention to the skies. A droplet splatters against the glass of the mask, and soon more follow.
She smiles at the first raindrops and, shutting her eyes, she tilts her face into the rain.
He traces the path of a water bead sliding in between her lips.
In Na’vi, she speaks quietly but with simple confidence, as if stating an immutable fact of the world. “The skies know the soul and being of Neytiri is bonded to the being and soul of Jake, the rains witness us as one in life. ”
She turns her smile to Jake, but it is replaced by alarm when he reaches for his mask. She stops him, ears large and pointed forward, eyes nervous.
“It’s fine,” he assures her, “Just for a little bit. The rain should see me too, shouldn’t it?”
Nodding, she hovers worriedly as he takes a deep breath and takes it off, tilting his face to the rain as well.
The water is cold, but it feels the same as always. He doesn’t know why this rain is considered the first; he has met it plenty of times before.
He doesn't close his eyes, so he can see clearly as she leans down to place a large kiss to his cheekbone. Continuing forward, her cheek nuzzles against his before she draws back to press their foreheads together.
“I thank Eywa for tying our fates together, ” she mumbles.
The time spent holding his breath burns in his lungs, but Jake would never breathe again if he could keep her looking at him like this, soft and loving.
His features aren’t unknown to her even like this and she reads his expression easily, snorting. She pushes his mask back up clumsily, and he pants into it, but gathers enough oxygen to add: “The rain sees Jake connected to Neytiri until it dries out, ” the Na’vi strange against these lips.
She tangles their fingers together, other hand pushing his sleeve back to wonder at his arm hair. She pushes a nail into his skin and he hisses in pain, startling her.
Ears pulling back, she hisses playfully back, as if teaching him how, and looks at the red mark she left behind.
“This body is fragile,” he complains, “You have to be careful. Gentle.”
She hums, unconcerned. “I am a better fighter than you,” she replies, “I always have to be gentle when we spar.”
Jake frowns. “Always?”
She rolls her eyes, tone familiarly exasperated. “Save your ego, you are good,” she assures. Then with a smug, fanged smile she adds: “I am better.”
“We’ll see about that tomorrow.”
She sneaks a finger further under his sleeve, then switches her attention to his chest, pushing his jacket open. This kind of exploratory touching is familiar in concept, many nights she has entertained herself the same way, but he never has quite so many clothes, and her hands are never so large, spanning his entire ribcage when she feels his heart. It is in a slightly different place for a human, so he shifts her aim slightly, fingers curling around her wrist and not meeting.
Over Neytiri’s shoulder he can briefly see her tail move, only for its slow, interested sway in the air. It convinces him that she truly is curious about him, even in this way, as if her wide eyed expression wasn't enough, pupils large and dilated.
Her hand strays lower, palm pressing into his stomach, and then starts to dip even farther before he interrupts her. “Is there anything else we need to do for the rain?”
She plays with the hem of his shirt, pulling it up his to peer at the fabric closely. “Rain will find us everywhere in the forest, it does not need from us.”
Jake clears his throat. Splayed in his lover's lap and being undressed with focus and intent, he can’t help the warmth that rises to his skin, a contrast to the chill from the rain. Neytiri notices, and she leaves the shirt pushed up around his neck to trace a finger down his reddened chest.
“Enjoying yourself?” he raises his eyebrows.
She grins at him, eyes glinting mischievously. “I will enjoy you.”