Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Evenings in the rainforest of Eywa’eveng were peaceful and so very alive . The soft sounds of sleeping creatures and the running of water from the rivers that decorated the forest floor were all that could be heard. Atokirina could be seen floating around the trees, their glow only adding to the already beautiful blues and purples of the bioluminescent terrain. It indeed was peaceful , as it should be. There were no fires, no sounds of shots cutting through the air, no screams of wounded creatures or Na’vi. Only the sounds of pure nature–

“Arghh! Ahhhh– gghh!” 

Okay, maybe not. Suddenly, the darkness wasn’t so peaceful as the screams carried through the rainforest night. The two screams were followed by several more. They were screams of pain, and judging by the sound, it came from a struggling Na’vi. The yells originated from the new Omaticaya encampment, in the Tsahik’s tent, from Tsahik’s daughter no less. Mo’at was coaching her daughter through childbirth while her mate was… acting as a squishy toy. 

“Come on, my daughter, he is almost here, now push!” Mo’at comforted her daughter.

“Nghhh– ah,” the sound at the end was breathless, but that was it. A cry bounced off the marui walls, drowning out Neytiri’s labored breaths. Neytiri’s mate let out a breathy laugh and kissed her sweaty forehead, looking at Mo’at’s slightly extended arms holding his baby. 

“You did it, baby. Look at that! It’s our son,” he exclaimed, “That's our son.” Jake finished softly. But when he finally met Neytiri’s eyes, he only saw them contorted in pain, “Neytiri? Baby, baby, hey– what’s wrong?” Neytiri did not respond. The other two could only hear the baby’s resounding cries and Neytiri’s grunts.

“Jake-Suli,” Mo’at called, putting his attention back on her. Mo’at was indeed holding the tiny being in her hands. He looked fine– he came out head first and everything –but his feet were propped up on Neytiri? Jake noticed his son’s kuru next, more so because he couldn’t really see it. Instead of being handled with care, the appendage was still not fully out. What? What was going on, “This is not over,” the elder woman stated with such authority that Jake knew this was serious. But what exactly did Mo’at mean it was over? The kuru was a pretty small part of the body. Couldn’t his mate just give one slight push, and then this whole ordeal would be over? Or couldn’t Mo’at even take it out carefully? “Come, my child, just push once more!” Mo’at used the arm that wasn’t supporting the baby to gently push her daughter’s lower stomach, “Yes, I was right.”, the Tsahik said under her breath, “Alright, ma’ite, listen to my words, there is another child, and you must push .”

Oh, they were having twins. 

Oh 

They were having twins. 

Twins were not common among Na’vi, according to Mo’at and other scientists who had studied them. Jake had asked the lot while Neytiri was pregnant to see if it was possible, considering that Jake himself was a twin. Right about now, Jake remembers that having twins is hereditary. Which means you have to carry the gene, and Jake definitely did. Okay, the blame was his, then. 

“Come on baby, just a little more–”

“Nnngh– ahhhh!” Neytiri continued to yell out in pain. 

“Okay, okay, I hear you, but come on, darling! You got this, okay? I-I believe in y–”

“Ma’Jake! Agh!” she interrupted. 

“Alright, I get it. Okay, uh, oh! Strong heart, baby, remember? Strong heart,” Jake breathed out, still having Neytiri squeeze his hand endlessly. 

“Strong– ah –heart,” the warrior sounded like all the wind had been knocked out of her. 

“Yeah, that’s right, baby, strong heart.”

“S-s-strong heart,” she took one heavy breath in, “Nnngh!” and let out a sequence of painful, difficult ones as she shook her head. 

No , Jake, though, this wasn’t his mate. Alright, his mate was a fighter through and through. Throughout the entire time he has known her, she has never given up, even if the whole world seems against her. He would not see her give up now, not when she had so much reason to try, “No, no, no – come on baby, just a bit more –for me. Please remember! Strong heart,” Jake almost felt his voice cracking at the end. 

“Strong h-h-hear– ahhhh!” she shouted with a final push.

What was once a single baby’s cry that rang throughout the marui walls suddenly diminished, and the three Na’vi were met with silence. Neytiri’s breathing was all anyone could hear, which couldn’t be right. Right? There were supposed to be two babies, but there was no crying. No, no, no,

“Mo’at, what’s happen–” Jake turned to Mo’at sharply before stopping mid-panic. She held two babies in her arms but looked very concerned. It came to Jake quickly, and he suddenly remembered his knowledge of childbirth. Back in his middle school days, the teachers decided to traumatize students by making them watch ‘The Miracle of Life.’ From what he remembers, it was to prevent underage sex. But that wasn’t what Jake was recalling right now. No, he remembered a wailing newborn announcing to the world that it was there and its lungs were working correctly. That it was alive . Babies were supposed to cry when they were born, but his babies weren’t crying. His babies were still. Two newborns were in the room, and yet, zero were crying. No crying meant no breathing .

“No,” Jake gently but quickly pried his wife’s hand from his. Taking a step to Mo’at, he saw his children. They were so still, and their eyes were closed.

“My babies, where are they?” Neytiri deliriously asked, but Jake couldn’t bring himself to respond. 

That’s when he noticed the babies’ kurus. They were disconnected. Jake only caught on that there was a second child because the first one’s kuru was stuck inside his wife. What the leader of the Omaticaya was about to do was a long shot for sure, but it was worth a try, “Toruk– Jake, I am so sorry,” Mo’at began solemnly, dropping the formal name. Jake ignored her words as he gently handled the two small kurus and connected them. He formed tsaheylu between the twins, “Toruk Makto, what are you–”

“Wait,” Jake interrupted the tsahik, “Just wait,” the shocked woman listened and backed down. 

“What is going on,” said Neytiri, still very much out of it.

“H-hold on baby,” Jake stuttered. God, he hopes this worked. I mean– tsaheylu between two Na’vi was the most sacred bond anyone on Pandora could make. It was reserved for babies with their parents and then with a lifelong mate. For two siblings to be connected in this way was unheard of. Well, at the very least, Jake did not hear of it. All he hoped for was that he was not violating something so precious. For a moment, there was nothing— only silence. 

Come on. Please work, Jake thought nervously. 

Silence.

Oh god, no, Jake felt tears building up at the corners of his eyes.

“Jake, I am so sorry,” Mo’at said softly, trying her best to use Jake’s name. 

“No…” Jake stared at the still babies, “No, no, no,” and leaned his forehead on the two newborns in Mo’at’s arms, still holding their kurus where they connected. The father felt the tears fall as he moved to be with his wife. But that’s when he heard the ear-piercing cries of two newborn babies . Jake swears there was no sound more beautiful than his children announcing to the world that they were alive . He turned back to the babies.

“You have done it again, Toruk Makto,” Mo’at said through wet laughter. 

“Nah, I just connected the little guys. The rest was all Neytiri,” Jake said, scooping the twins from their grandmother’s arms, “Look baby, our babies.” Jake sniffled, overcome with emotions. Neytiri threw her head back in breathy laughter. Propping the woman up comfortably, Jake handed her the infants. She held them close, all smiles and heavy breathing. Once put in their mother's arms, the twins magically stopped crying, “What do you think?” Jake whispered. 

“I think these two are the greatest things I have ever done.” Neytiri managed to say with a smile. 

“Strong heart?”

“Strong hearts ,” she agreed, referring to the four of them. The new mother nuzzled her face against her mate’s neck and smiled. Jake responded with laughter, his eyes closed. There can’t be anything better than this, Jake thought while rubbing the back of his mate’s head. His other hand was busy helping Neytiri support the two newborns. It felt like two had sat there for hours, basking in each other's warmth. The domestic silence was interrupted, 

“When you two are finished, I need to wash the children off,” Mo’at said thickly, still overcoming her emotions. Jake side and begrudgingly opened his eyes to look at his new life. 

“Oop, babe , she’s right,” Jake patted Neytiri’s head, a small smile gracing his features, “look, the kids look nasty.” Jake laughed at the two wrinkly blue creatures covered in a slimy substance. He grimaced slightly; Bald queues are rather disturbing.  

Neytiri’s eyes opened very slowly, “Ma’Jake, do not be mean. Our children are beautiful.”

“Yeah, no, baby, I think those hormones are messing you up. They’re sticky.”

“Hmmm, alright. Hand them to mother.”

“Yes, thank you, ma’ite,” Mo’at placed a hand atop her daughter’s head and pressed their foreheads together, “I am so proud of you,” she whispered. She then gently removed the babies and took them to the side to wash them in a small basin. 

“So,” Mo’at began gently pouring water on one of the baby’s heads. The other was safely lying in a basket, “what are you two going to name the children?” 

That was an excellent question. The leaders of the Omaticaya looked at each other dumbly. What were they going to name the kids? See, Neytiri’s pregnancy had been eventful, to say the least. During the very beginning, the battle between the RDA and the Na’vi had taken place. Most of it was spent with the Omaticaya rebuilding, Jake learning to be a good Olo’eyktan, and then the Na’vi and remaining humans learning to trust and coexist. And there was still so much more. So, sue them. They didn’t think of a single baby name, let alone two. 

“Okay, hmph… names,” Jake huffs, looking at a wiped-out Neytiri. Seeing her condition, the marine quickly jumped and grabbed a cold rag in a bowl beside him. “Let me help you out there, baby.” Jake laid the rag on Neytiri’s sweaty forehead, and she leaned into the touch. 

“Thank you, my love,” the new mother said.

“You’re welcome, baby. So, names, uh– hey Mo’at,”

“Hm?” the tsahik responded without looking up from the children. 

“One is a girl, right?”

“Yes, Toruk Makto,” she replied flatly, still not looking at him.

“Okay, uh, let’s see. Girl names, I got this. Imma just make something up, and you tell me what you think, okay.”

Neytiri laughed slightly, “Okay, Ma’Jake.”

“Alright, let’s see. Let’s take it by sounds. Uh, oh! Eh!”

“Eh?” she said, both repeating the sound and in confusion. 

“Yeah! Yeah, eh… uh… ah–”

“Ma’Jake–” she interrupted, still confused.  

“No, no, wait. I’m not done. Okay, so– Eh-ah-mah…” Jake’s eyes squinted in what seemed to be intense concentration. Neytiri rolled her eyes, “…ee?” He dragged out the last sound, unsure, “Yeah! Eh-ah-mah-ee. Say it all together,” Jake claps to accentuate his genius, “Ä’amai! Isn’t that cute? Bam– name number one!”

“Ä’amai,” Neytiri thought, “I do not hate it. It is lovely, Ä’amai, our daughter. 

“Cool, one child named. You wanna name the second babe ?” Jake said as if they were puppies.

“Hmmm, Neteyam?” 

“Quick answer, obviously you’ve thought about this.”

“Not really, I just like it Ma’Jake. Besides, Ä’amai is unique and cute. She will always carry a piece of her father with her.” 

“Alright, baby, but yeah. I like Neteyam, Neteyam is great. This is great. Our babies, Neteyam and Ä’amai. Ä’amai and Neteyam. How… perfect.” Jake put his forehead against his mate’s and smiled. The two sat there for a while, breathing in each other’s breath, feeling each other’s heartbeat. In the back of their minds, they heard the soft pats of Mo’at’s footsteps getting closer, 

“I hate to interrupt, but I hold your new lives in my arms, and they are waiting.” 

Still not removing himself from his mate’s, Jake said, “Our new life, huh?” he breathed out. Jake’s eyes slowly peeled open, and he saw the golden irises of his wife smiling right at him. The sight brought a smile to his face. 

“Yes, your new lives. Both of which come complete with two eyes, two ears, two thumbs, one tail, one kuru, and three tiny little fingers and toes.” Mo’at completed softly, most likely still cooing at the babies. Jake and Neytiri listened closely with matching smiles imprinted on their faces. But it wasn’t until the last part that they truly locked into Mo’at’s words. 

Three tiny fingers and toes. 

Three fingers, three toes. 

While Jake was sure Mo’at didn’t mean to make it seem like anything else was a direct flaw– it almost felt that way in the back of his mind. Realistically, Jake knew that was not what the Tsahik meant; she likely had said it to most new parents when handing them their children. Jake was snapped out of his trance-like state when Neytiri slowly pulled away to face her mother. 

“Well, no matter the number of fingers, toes, eyes, or ears, they are our children, and we love them all the same,” she said, slightly glancing at Jake. Jake turned to face the older woman and his babies, embarrassed that his insecurity shone through. The silence that followed was awkward.

“Right,” Jake broke the silence, “well, let’s see ‘em.” He grabbed Neytiri’s hand and kissed it, “To our new lives.”

“To your new lives,” Mo’at bent down and carefully handed her daughter her children, “Support the necks… yes, there you go,” she said softly. Jake hurried to be directly beside his mate and put his arm around her. And so the Olo’eyktan looked at his new children. He really looked at them. 

What he saw turned his world upside down. 

Jake saw his two tiny babies with peaceful sleeping faces with matching stripes to boot. God, two babies. Was he ready? Was this how his parents felt when he and Tommy were born? I mean– these were two itty-bitty lifeforms that had no idea how to do anything at all. They didn’t know how to live. They would rely on him to feed, hold, clothe, comfort, and protect them. Jake felt his thoughts racing a mile a minute. All he could think about were all the mistakes he could make about having zero idea what he was doing. But then they opened their eyes, and his mind just stopped. Any doubt that plagued Jake’s mind suddenly evaporated, and four large golden eyes stared at him. All his fears left him at this moment. Jake would protect them. Jake would hold them. Jake would shield them from a cruel world for as long as possible. Jake would never let anything harm his kids, no matter what. When the four suns stared at him, he saw the goddamn future. He saw his babies growing up, learning to shoot a bow, taming ikrans, adorning them in beads, braiding their hair, and singing them songs. Jake saw his children smiling, and he’d do anything to keep it that way.

“Ma’Jake,” Neytiri’s soft voice appeared in his thoughts, “Are you alright?” dream-Neytiri seemed concerned, “Ma’Jake!” she said a tad bit louder. Oh. This was real. 

“Yeah, baby?” When the father returned to the real world, he felt a new wetness on his cheek. He was crying, “Oh- oh, yeah, I’m alright baby,” he brought his free hand to wipe at his face, embarrassed by his tears, “just look at them, with their giant Neytiri eyes and matching little stripes. It's a charm that brings people to tears, for sure. They obviously got that from me.” Jake said quickly, trying to mask his sudden emotion. His response was met with a slight chuckle from Neytiri, “I mean, look at those things. I mean…” he stopped mid-sentence, looking at the twins’ large blinking eyes, “...how could you look at these eyes and not feel like you’re looking at the whole world?” Jake studied his children, already looking for the slight differences they were bound to have. As of now, there weren’t many. Maybe his daughter’s eyes were slightly larger, but other than that– they were copy and paste. 

“Yes, large eyes, they will make good hunters,” hearing their mother’s voice, the twins turned their little heads. Neytiri gasped playfully, “ Hello Ä’amai, hello Neteyam! Aren’t you two the loveliest babies in all of Eywa’eveng? Yes, you are!” Hearing Neytiri's baby talk made Jake laugh, “What? Does the mighty Toruk Makto not approve of my voice?” Had Neytiri not been holding the babies, she would have pushed him. 

“Alright, now,” Mo’at stepped in, “the next step would be the connection with the parents. But with these special circumstances, I believe it best to wait.”

Jake thought back to the absolute fear he felt when he thought his children were gone, how that sudden stillness sent a chill through his heart and soul. His breath hitched as he remembered, “No, no, I don’t think we should do that. We need to wait.” Mo’at nodded, her lips pursed together. Neytiri was looking between the two, confused. 

“Very well, then the first communion with Eywa will also have to wait.” The Tsahik knew this was out of the ordinary, but she also saw the stillness of her grandchildren. And. It scared her. 

“Why would we wait?” Asked a very confused Neytiri. She had no idea why the sudden break in tradition was being discussed, “Is it not important for the children to bond with us? Is it not critical for them to bond with the Great Mother?” About now, the other two remember Neytiri was pretty out of it during the ordeal. So Jake took the time to explain the sensitive topic to her, and Neytiri understood. 

“I see,” Neytiri cleared her throat, “well, for the children’s safety, we must put off other connections until they are strong enough to survive independently.” Her voice was thick with emotion. How could she almost lose her children and not be aware? Jake put an arm around her and gently kissed her forehead,

“Alright, baby,” he sat there for a second, his hand rubbing her shoulder and his nose in her hair, Deep breath in… and out. Jake repeated the mantra in his mind. The fear of what was basically losing two people he didn’t know yet brought him to a state of panic he didn’t even know he had. Little stinkers , he thought, worrying your father like that . Jake looked down at the culprits, only to see, well…

Was it possible for babies to look unimpressed? Jake didn’t think so until he looked down and saw exactly that. 

“What?” the twins blinked simultaneously, “You guys didn’t like me giving Mama a kiss?” They blinked twice, “Wow, only a few minutes old and already with the attitude. Well, too bad you have to share. Mama’s love goes three ways now.” He said. To make a show of it, Jake put both his arms around Neytiri’s head and showered it with kisses. 

Neytiri laughed, “Ma’Jake, wait–”

“Nah,” he stopped for a second, “gotta show these two who came first.” He continued, and Neytiri’s laughter filled the room until two matching cries shocked them out of it. Was something wrong? Their heads snapped to the babies that somehow cried in perfect harmony. When Neytiri became their full view again, the crying stopped,

“Oh my,” Neytiri giggled and looked at her mate. 

“Brats,”

Neytiri gasped playfully, “Ma’Jake, do not call them such names.”

“They’re disrespecting me, their father.”

“Leave them be,” they ended, looking straight at each other and breaking out into laughter. Out of the corner of Jake’s eye, he saw matching smiles on the twins’ faces, 

“Now there’s a smile or two,” he practically melted, “Alright, you two are forgiven. “

Mo’at stood off to the side, watching the young couple, and smiled. She could remember the day her daughters were born like it was yesterday. Yet, a hint of grief washed over her as she remembered the day she lost her eldest with the same clarity as the day she was born. Mo’at hoped her youngest never had to experience such a thing. The Tsahik stood up, “Alright, I will leave you four be. You stay here for the night. Please call if you need me,”

“Okay, thank you, Mo’at. Rest easy. You deserve it.” Jake said.

“Thank you, Jake ,” she replied, using his given name. 

“Yes, mother, thank you.” Neytiri added, “Nga yawne lu oer sa’nok,” she said warmly, “Oel ngati kameie, sa’nok.”

Mo’at teared up hearing her daughter’s words, remembering the day she first held her in her arms, “Oel ngati kameie ‘itetsyìp, nga yawne lu oer.” The two mothers shared a last glance before the elder walked out. 

“We should get some sleep, too,” Jake said, Neytiri nodded.

“I’d like to wash up a bit first,” she told her mate. Jake got the message and took the children to a small wicker basket/cot. They had only made one, but considering the current situation, that was a good thing. Besides, Neteyam and Ä’amai were pretty small. They’d fit. As he placed the two previously smiling babies down, they let sleep overtake them. Jake smiled at their little fingers intertwining before a frown formed. 

“Hey, babe ?” He called Neytiri by a human pet name. 

“Yes, yawne?” She replied while gently wiping herself clean. 

Jake hesitated before continuing to think Neytiri likely wouldn’t be a fan of his following words, “Do you think we can take the twins to the human part of camp tomorrow?” Jake slowly turned to see his wife staring at him with curious eyes. Curious but not mad yet. Okay, good. 

“What for?” Slight annoyance leaked in her tone. 

“It’s nothing bad. I just wanna show everyone the kids… and…” Jake trailed off. The sound of a wet rag being moved stopped, and Neytiri narrowed her eyes slightly, 

“...And?”

“...and I was hoping they could look them over to make sure nothing’s wrong with them,” she didn’t look convinced, “look baby, in the moment when the twins were,” his breath hitched, “when they were dead– gone , I was scared shitless. I acted on pure hopes and wishes. It’s a miracle what I did even worked. And I just–” Jake’s uncharacteristic rambling was interrupted. 

“Alright,” Jake looked up, “we will take them to ease your– our minds. And Ma’Jake?” She looked directly at him and crawled over to the best of her ability, “It was by no miracle the twins live, it was Eywa’s will, and she conducted it through you.” she smiled at him, “Oel ngati kameie Ma’Jake.” a flash of pain crossed over Neytiri’s face. Jake immediately noticed and picked his wife up. He walked back over to the rag and bowl and helped her clean up. Neytiri hummed in content. When that was finished, he grabbed two blankets off the wall and placed one on the ground next to the basket. There were no hammocks in this room, but the ground was soft. The father then went to pick his wife up and set her on the blanket next to the babies,

“What a mate I have, carrying me around.” Neytiri fawned over her mate. 

“Yeah, well you deserve it.” Jake went to sit next to her, propping himself on his elbow, “Neytiri,” 

“Hm,” she replied, her eyes closed.

“Neytiri,” another hum. So Jake did something to get her attention. He formed tsaheylu, and a rush of emotions filled Neytiri and him. 

She breathed in, “Yes, dear?” she looked up at him with those big golden eyes matching his babies, “Oel ngati kameie, yawne.” Neytiri’s eyes sparkled at his use of the Na’vi term of endearment. With a smile, he lay down next to his wife, and they just… looked at each other, breathing in tandem, feeling each other’s heartbeat. 

“Our new lives begin tomorrow, Ma’Jake. Are you nervous?”

“Terrified, you?”

“I am the same?”

“You’ll be a great mother, baby.”

“And you, an amazing father.” they smiled at each other. 

“Ä’amai and Neteyam.” Jake said.

“Neteyam and Ä’amai.” Neytiri repeated. 

“New lives?” The Olo’eyktan asked.

“New lives.” The warrior replied.

“Strong heart?” The father asked.

“Strong hearts .” the mother replied firmly. 

“How exciting."

Chapter Text

The morning came far too soon for the parents’ liking, but don’t get them wrong, their love for their babies was still there. They just didn’t love waking up about an hour after equally exhausting and worrisome labor to shrieking twins. After Jake realized they were only hungry, he helped Neytiri sit up and feed both of them. There was no way that was comfortable. All Jake could do was sit there and watch. Na’vi didn’t have baby formula, so Neytiri was solely responsible for things like feedings. 

So, when the sun decided to grace Jake’s eyes with its presence, he knew it was only a matter of time before the twins got hungry again. He rolled over to see his wife still fast asleep. Jake smiled and decided to leave her be. Jake unraveled himself from his blanket as quietly as possible and walked over to the little basket holding his kids. His kids, wow. About seven years ago, Jake had been on Earth, paralyzed and drinking his sorrows away. Now he was on goddamn Pandora in a tent with the love of his life and his kids . Life is crazy. Who knew?

The careful walk over the basket was short, the only challenge being not waking up his ever-vigilant wife. Jake peered over the basket to get a look at his sleeping babies– 

“Woah–” Jake said quickly, stumbling back slightly before covering his mouth. Is the ex-marine proud of the response he had– no, but what he saw was somewhat unsettling. The twins' abnormally large eyes were just staring at him. Jake supposed the eyes were probably normal for Na’vi’s standards, but still, they were literally just staring. And they were quiet. Not even dried tear tracks marked their identical faces. When Jake returned to look over the basket, the twins noticed their dad and smiled. The smiles were all it took for Jake to forgive them for scaring him. Jake kneeled in front of the basket,

“Heyyy, babies,” Jake could feel the smile automatically stretch his face, “good morning. How did you two sleep? Hey, do me a favor, and don’t cry for a little longer. Mommy’s sleeping.” He made a shushing motion. 

Although, with that in mind, why weren’t they crying? It seemed like they had been awake for a while, so why didn’t they cry? Didn’t newborns usually cry for food, diaper changes, or even cuddles when they woke up? Yet another question to ask the scientists today. Hopefully, they knew enough about human babies to somewhat transfer the knowledge. But that was a later problem. For now, 

“Alright, babies, let’s go to that corner over there,” he picked up the basket carefully, “spend some time with dear old dad.” Jake sat in a corner where he could still see his mate sleeping peacefully. The man ran his fingers alongside the basket and remembered making it with Neytiri. Jake was still relatively new at weaving and wasn’t very good at it, but he wanted his children to know that he would always reach new lengths to care for them. Jake felt the details he had tried his hardest to add on the sides, Neytiri helping him connect the wicker. Still, Jake couldn’t help but laugh at seeing his babies in a basket.

“It looks like I’m about to send y’all down the Nile singing,” Jake squinted his eyes, “How’s that song go again… Hush now, my baby … jeez, can’t remember the dang words. Uh– River, oh river, flow – yeah, I can’t remember. That’s alright, we can watch that one day. If mom lets us.” Jake laughed remorsefully, “Tommy loved that movie. He was your uncle,” he clarified for the twins. Jake thought that Tommy would be proud of who he became. He’d be excited to meet the twins, then make fun of him for having a wife so ridiculously out of his league. 

The twins looked curiously at their hands while Jake was caught in his memories. Then at the other’s hands, then back to their own. If they had eyebrows, Jake was sure they’d be quirked.

“You two shocked to see your own hands?” The twins simultaneously opened and closed the right hand,” Ha, are you gonna do that all the time?” They did it again, but with the left, “Guess so. I wonder if Tommy and I did this kind of stuff.”

“Perhaps we could call your mother and father to find out,” a tired voice said from across the room, “good morning dear,” she added.

Jake lifted his head to his mate, stretching her tired limbs, “Good morning, babe , and no, we can’t. My parents and I haven’t been on speaking terms since I joined the Marines. I don’t even know how they’re doing right now.” An awkward pause followed, “And that’s all I’m gonna say about that ,” he ended, looking back down at the basket. 

“Oh, Ma’Jake,” Neytiri rustled from her blanket to lean on her mate’s shoulder. She took his hand, “I’m sure they loved you no matter what. Perhaps they were just worried and did not know what to say. But, enough of these thoughts. Only think about these beautiful children Ewya has blessed us with and how much we love them . And how they will never feel unloved by us.” She ended with a kiss on his cheek. 

“You’re right, baby. Besides, how could anyone not love this,” he gestured towards the babies, and the mother and father both laughed at the sight that met them. The babies have switched from their hands to their feet. They had their feet in the air, scrunching their little toes and staring at each other, almost as if saying, ‘Are you seeing this?’ .

The new parents watched the infants, laughing every time the twins discovered a new body part. After the initial shock of seeing they had feet– they found their toes, noses, and ears. They looked to the other with every new part they found in themselves. Seeing two babies touch each other’s noses with wide eyes was humorous. Jake and Neytiri watched them with smiles that reached their eyes, and then the twins discovered their kurus and put their little hands on their own–

“No!” the parents yelped together, quickly reaching for one sibling’s hand. They were not going to have a repeat of last night,

“That was close,” Jake released a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. Jake was 95% certain that he was holding Neteyam’s hand. Either way, that took at least two years off Jake’s lifespan. 

“I agree. How did they even manage that? They are lying on their backs? This would be much easier if we could wrap them up like normal,” she paused to think, “What do humans call it, swaddling ?” The word was foreign to Neytiri’s tongue, but she remembered it when Jake showed her his baby pictures. 

“Yeah, that’s right, and I guess you’re right . We can’t swaddle them without disconnecting them,” 

“We can not let that happen, so we must always carry them as if they were one.”

“Seems like, but that’s alright, we’ll take turns,” as the two were talking, Jake felt Neteyam play around with his fingers. Occasionally, the baby would hold onto a finger to examine it further. Looking over, he saw Ä’amai doing the same to his wife’s fingers. It wasn’t until Neteyam got to his father’s little finger that he stopped. Neteyam gripped the finger with all his strength, taking both his little hands to the pinky. 

“Whatcha got there, buddy ?” Neteyam ignored his father, continuing to examine the extra appendage. 

Neytiri let out a confused chuckle, “ Buddy?” She sounded out every syllable. 

“Yeah, it’s a nickname. It could mean lots of things, to be honest. It could mean a friend or little guy. Usually, people use it towards someone or something small and cute.”

“What an odd little name,” Neytiri laughed. 

“Yeah, humans are weird.” Jake paused, “He’s so concentrated,” the former human laughed, and Neteyam continued his thorough examination. “Or maybe he’s just confused– Hey!” Jake was interrupted by his son dragging his pinky to show his sister. Her eyes widened at something new to focus on, and she abandoned her mother’s hand and moved to her father’s. Neteyam removed one of his hands from the little finger to make room for Ä’amai’s hand to hold on as well, “Damn, you’re strong,” he said under his breath. Then the twins tried to pull his pinky in opposite directions, “Hey, be careful with that!” 

“Ma’Jake, they are only curious,” 

“Yeah, curious is gonna get my finger ripped off.” 

“If you say so, darling,” Neytiri reached into the little pocket on the side of the basket and pulled out two rattles. They’d be made from plastic, metal, or even ceramic on Earth. Here on Pandora, though, Jake and Neytiri had carved them out of wood and filled them with a few beads made of clay. 

“It’s a good thing we made two of these,” she smiled and shook the two rattles before the twins. Hearing the new sound, they loosened their grip on their father and turned their little heads. All it took was one more shake, and the twins were captivated, making grabby hands towards the toys, “yes, there you go,” she said softly, “Ma’Jake, when did the children wake up? They will be hungry soon, no?” 

“That’s a funny story. They scared the shit out of me when I went to get them. They were already awake and staring right at me.” Jake recalled the previous event. 

“That’s odd,” Neytiri thought, “Why did they not cry?”

“Yeah, I was wondering that too. I figured we could ask the humans about it when we go. We do know that they cry when they’re hungry, and they feed off you . So,” he took a breath, “you hungry baby?”

“I suppose I should eat. Do we have anything here?” she asked. 

Jake vaguely remembered Mo’at returning about five minutes after she had left to bring a small basket of food. Neytiri had already fallen asleep by that point. Jake thought about it, trying to remember what the Tsahik had said she’d brought them. 

“Well, there’s delta tree root–”

“Delta tree? What’s that?” Neytiri said with a knowing smile. 

Jake scrunched his eyebrows, “Uh, shoot, ap- apxangrr?”

“Correct,” she congratulated him.

“Fantastic, alright, so we have apxangrr root flour. We could make some flatbread with that in the hearth. Then we could pair it with~” he dragged out the sound, crawling over to the basket holding the food, “pa’liwll nectar! How’s that sound?” 

“Delightful,”

“Perfect! Then, I’ll get started on the bread. You just sit back and relax.” Jake reached into the basket. 

“Wait, Ma’Jake,” he stopped mid-reach and turned to look at Neytiri, “I will prepare the dough. You can prepare the fire, dear,” she said with a sheepish smile.

“Alright,” he handed Neytiri the flour, water, and bowl, “you sure?”

“Yes, Ma’Jake, no offense, but you make the dough much too runny.” She took the ingredients with a laugh.

“Wow,” Jake said with feigned offense. The man shuffled over to his wife, making her laugh even more. 

“I’m sorry, Ma’Jake, but bread-making is not one of your many skills,” she covered her mouth with her hand.

“You wound me, babe ,” he put his hand over his heart, “hear that Ä’amai? Neteyam? Your mother hates me.”

“Your father,” she puts her hands on the babies’ chests gently, “is a skxawng! Yes, he is! Promise me you will not inherit his ways,” the twins smiled, “I will take that as a yes.” Neytiri’s baby talk concluded. 

“Well, your mother’s got me there, kiddos , don’t you two ever do what I do. Don’t charge into things headfirst all the time.” Jake took a deep breath, “Alright, I’ll go get that fire going now,” he kissed Neytiri on the side of her temple and shook the rattles to distract the babies again. 

From that point, the tent was filled with the sounds of what could only be described as domestic bliss. Jake was tending a soft crackling hearth, awaiting the dough Neytiri was making. The babies were still very much occupied with their rattles, thankfully not pulling on any more limbs. Neytiri kept a close eye just in case as she hummed a familiar melody. 

“You keep humming that song, baby, but you haven’t told me what it is,” Jake commented, poking the cooking fire. 

“It is only because I have yet to come up with any words. I did not know what I wanted to say, but I believe I may now.”

“Fantastic, but what is it for?”

“It is the beginning of their songcord and the middle of ours,” Neytiri gave a soft smile, “the lyrics will be extra special, just for them ,” she continued to hum the song, trying to think of lyrics as she rolled the dough into small balls and flattened them slightly.

Neytiri remembered when she first had the dish with her mate. When he saw the bread, he excitedly said, ‘They look just like pancakes!’ . When he realized it came out much louder than intended, he flushed a deep purple, and his ears went right down. At the time, Neytiri had laughed at his expense, and now, she decided to poke some fun at him, 

“The pancakes are ready to be cooked, Jake ,” she tried extra hard to emulate an American accent with the word and his name. Neytiri tried to stifle her laughter as she held the plate out to him. 

“Oh, ha ha ha,” he said sarcastically, shuffling over to grab the plate, “ ha .” He snatched the plate from her. Neytiri laughed at her mate’s newly purple face. 

A few minutes later, the bread was complete with the sweet nectar spread atop it. When the two took the first bite, they realized their hunger and devoured the simple dish. The meal was eaten in silence, the crackling of a dying hearth and two baby rattles being the only noteworthy noises. The sounds continued through cleaning up the tent and packing things so that they could visit the humans. Jake had opted to be the one to gently pick up the basket so that his wife could take it easy. 

Halfway out the door, Jake almost dropped the basket as two identical cries came out of nowhere. Jake winced, realizing what they had forgotten, “Neytiri,” he called out, further wincing against the loud noise. 

“The warrior gasped, “Curses, we forgot to feed them,” she hit her forehead with her palm. For all they know, the twins had been hungry since they woke up. They just had yet to say anything. 

And so the trip was slightly delayed as Neytiri sat to feed the twins, “Forgive your mother, darlings,” she told them as they happily ate, “I knew I should not have gone on that hunt while I was pregnant. I should have been here learning to be a good mother.” 

Jake would not stand for his mate insulting herself, “Hey, baby, you are a good mother. You’re acting like there's some handbook for parenthood. Every baby is different, and we know these little guys definitely are. We just need time to learn.” Neytiri smiled at him, but even her mate’s words were not enough to stop the waves of guilt. 

Once the twins began to loosen their grip on their mother and their eyes started to flutter close, Neytiri gently removed them and placed them in the basket. Before they even hit the basket, the newborns were fast asleep. 

The walk to Hell’s Gate was calm. A few Na’vi were already beginning the day’s chores. Those who saw them smiled and said their congratulations from a distance. Jake had to assume they were giving Neytiri her space and didn’t want to overwhelm her. Meanwhile, Neytiri assumed that the space they were being given was because of her mate, who was walking oddly while carrying the baby basket.

“I wonder if they are even awake,” Neytiri said, referring to the humans. 

“Ooh, uh, maybe a few of them. Most of them actually wake up pretty early.” Neytiri hummed in response. 

They finally came to the entrance, and Neytiri stopped, “Are you sure this is a good idea?” The hesitation was plain in her face.

“I know, baby, but they have the tools to look at their brains closely,” he said, sensing his mate’s discomfort. Jake kissed the top of her head, “If there is something wrong, it’ll be up there in their little heads.”

“Alright,” she still seemed unsure, but she stepped in regardless— anything for her children. 

Hell’s Gate had changed quite a bit in the months that the RDA was sent back to Earth. Nature had begun to run in course, moss and vines covering the buildings, walls, and gates. As long as the essential equipment wasn’t being overrun, the humans let nature do what it wanted. Suddenly, a small child wearing an oxygen mask that was too big for him ran past Neytiri’s legs, bumping them. A yell followed the child, 

“Miles! Get back here! The mask is too big for you!” The yells sounded like Norm’s voice, and sure enough, a human Norm ran past the couple. Max followed close behind,

“Miles, come on,” yelled Max.

“I got him,” Norm snatched up the young child and pressed the oxygen mask tightly to his face to prevent it from falling off. The man’s breathing was ragged. Just how long had he been chasing the kid?

“Hey Norm, how’s it going?” Jake tried his hardest to hide his laugh. 

“Yeah, uh,” he walked over to the couple, still breathing heavily, “did you know taking care of a kid is hard? This little guy just learned how to walk.”

“No, but I think we’re gonna learn,” Jake gestured to the basket. Norm’s eyes widened,

“No way, the baby was born? Congratulations, Neytiri,” he said, switching to Na’vi.

“Thank you, but it’s bab ies ,” she corrected proudly.

“Twins? Seriously? That’s great,” Max said.

“Thank you, Norm-Spellman and Max-Patel. May I ask who this child is and why he was outside?” 

“Oh, you don’t remember him? Eh, I’m not surprised y’all were busy this past year.” Norm started, “Anyways, I was adjusting this mask to fit him so he could start getting some sun. Then I turn around for a second, and he’s gone! ” Neytiri's lips quirked with the beginnings of a smile, “Yeah, little Miles is a rascal for sure.” The smile Neytiri had broke into a small laugh, but Jake couldn’t help but pause,

“Miles?” he asked.

Norm winced, “Yup, Miles Socorro,”

“ Socorro? As in Paz? ” Jake asked in disbelief. 

“That’s the one.” Norm clicked his tongue. 

Neytiri looked at the two, confused, “What is the significance of this name? He is quite cute for a human,”

Jake began slowly, “Isn’t he, honey, and well, Paz was a soldier. She died in the battle—”

“Oh, poor child, is his father doing alright?” 

Now it was Jake’s turn to wince, “That’s the thing, so Paz was having… relations with Quaritch… and they must’ve resulted in a baby.” 

Neytiri’s gaze immediately steeled, “I see.”

“Come on now, he’s not his father,” Norm said, holding up the baby, “just look at him.”

“Only time will tell,” and that was that.

There was an awkward pause,

“Hey, Max? Take Miles inside for me, please?” Norm asked.

Sensing the atmosphere, Max said a quick “Yes” and took Spider inside. Norm dusted himself off,

“So,” he looked up at them, “is there a reason you two came here? I thought you guys would’ve wanted to rest.”

“No, yeah, we need your help. Uh, how much knowledge do you think you can transfer about human babies to Na’vi babies?” He paused before continuing, “Specifically the brain,” he added quickly.

“Wow, um, I’m sure we could. Maybe two avatar drivers will have to transfer to hold them properly during the exam, but yeah, we could do a brain scan.” Norm got lost in thought for a second, “Oh, can I ask why?”

Neytiri slightly flinched, remembering how she was unaware that she had come so close to losing them. Jake noticed this and moved to tell the story. He showed Norm the connected kurus, and Jake stopped him when he opened his mouth to question the abnormality. Seeing his friend’s solemn face, he let him continue. Throughout the story, Norm’s face holds a mixture of emotions. Ranging from worry to curiosity. 

“I see,” Norm stared at the basket, “that is off. So, and I mean this in the most doctor-y way possible– the twins,” he licked his lips that became dry from the mask, “ died when they weren’t connected, came back to life, and now you’re afraid that if you ever disconnect them, they won’t survive?” Norm checked. 

“Yes, that is correct, Norm,” Neytiri said.

“Well, I think you made the right call keeping them like this. Since the queue– sorry –kuru is directly connected to the brain, the brain scan is likely the best thing we can do for them.” Norm scratched his head, “We don’t know much about Na’vi babies, but we’ll do our best and hopefully learn something. Uh, let me transfer to my avatar, and I’ll get the machine started. Feel free to wait in there or out here,” Norm took off in a light jog. 

Jake and Neytiri decided to wait outside, not wanting to expose their newborns to foreign air longer than was necessary. 

“Jake! Neytiri!” Norm yelled from the lab’s entrance, “We’re ready for you.”

Once inside the lab, Norm led them to the part of Med Bay that was explicitly created for avatars. 

“So Max will actually be helping instead since he would know the most about Na’vi babies,” at Neytiri’s confused face, Norm added, “he’s the head of the avatar program, which includes avatar development and that includes– babies.” Norm punctuated his statement with jazz hands that she didn’t fully understand. However, she did understand the spoken part. Neytiri nodded,

“I see, well, as long as my children are safe.”

“Don’t worry, Neytiri, Max is one of the best. If he wasn’t, well, he’d be on Earth right now.” Norm laughed.

“Damn right, I didn’t work myself half to death in university for nothing,” Max chimed in. Miles was still pulling on his leg. 

“University,” Neytiri tested out the word, “it is an advanced school for sky-people, correct?”

“Yeah, basically. So,” he clapped his hands together, “let’s get started–”

“Bahb!” Miles shouted, pointing at the basket, “Bahb!” 

“Bay-bee,” Max’s attention turned, and he sounded out the word to the standing baby, 

“B-b-baby,” Miles says excitedly. 

“That’s right, Miles! Two babies,” Norm got down to Miles’ level to congratulate him. Miles’ eyes sparkled at the praise, 

“Babies! Babies!” Miles continued his chant from his place on Max’s leg.

Max laughed, “Sorry I told him about the babies. He’s excited if you couldn’t tell.” He laughed sheepishly. Even Neytiri, who still wasn’t sold on the child, smiled softly at the display of innocence, “So you can go ahead and lay the kids down on that pillow/blanket there. Then Norm will hook them up to the machine,” he looked up from his screen at the couple, “sound good? There’s a little mask there with Pandoran air. If you’re worried, you can give them a little puff.” Max assured them.

Neytiri chose to lay the children down and told Jake to get the air mask. As relaxed as she seemed, the warrior was still skeptical. Carefully, Neytiri took the children out of the basket and placed them on the cushion. When Jake was administering the air, Miles let his voice out again, 

“Babies!” he pointed at the sleeping figures. Miles began to climb Max, and once he got to his shoulders, he shouted, “Babies,” again.

“Miles, shh, they’re sleeping,” Max told him, “Geez, this kid is like a spider, crawling on everything.” The man sighed, “Can he see them?”

Neytiri didn’t know what to say. In her view, the child was skittish, and she didn’t want him to hurt her children. Even if by accident. 

“I don't have a problem with it. Just make sure he doesn’t get all grabby.” Jake said, arm around Neytiri, “How do you feel, babe ?” 

With her mate’s terms, Neytiri nodded,

“Cool,” Max held Miles firmly, “alright Miles, you can see the babies, but don’t touch without asking their mommy,” he pointed to Neytiri, “or daddy, okay?” He pointed to Jake, and Miles made a noise of agreement. 

Max walked over and lowered the table slightly. The twins must’ve felt the motion of the table as their eyes slowly opened, but just like that morning, no tears were shed. Norm and Max noticed this and made shocked/confused faces but decided not to say anything. Miles shrieked with delight at the sight of the twins tiredly blinking at him.

The twins ' eyes furrowed once the sight of Miles and Max registered in their brains. The twins didn’t know what to make of the two sky people. What they did see, however, was Miles’ hand flapping up and down. They noticed the extra finger that was not unlike their father’s and smiled. Again, Miles let loose a shrieking laugh, holding his hand to them. Norm, who was recording the whole thing, looked at Neytiri. She understood the silent question and nodded curtly at the scientists. Max put Miles on the table, hands at the ready if need be. Miles crawled over to the twins and positioned himself where they could see him. Neteyam and Ä’amai reached out a curious hand to the human boy. Out of curiosity, Miles placed his palms on theirs before he clasped them. The twins held Miles’ hands back, and just like that– Na’vi or human –the three babies smiled.

“Would you look at that,” Jake breathed out. 

The adults watched the cute display for a while before Norm finally decided to perform the scan. Norm and Max looked at the finished scans intensely, desperately trying to spot an issue. They found nothing. The twins’ brains were working perfectly. The only thing that came out of it was Max telling the couple that they shouldn’t undo the connection between the babies.

“Until when?” Jake was frustrated. 

“I don’t know, there’s literally nothing wrong. Maybe in about a month or two, you can try again?” That was all Max said.

“That’s it?”

“I’m afraid so, I’m sorry. I wish I could do more.” Max scratched the back of his head.

“Well, how do we keep them from pulling at the kurus? You see how they wake up. There’s no noise. What if it happens then, and by the time we wake up, they’re too far gone?” Jake knew he was being very blunt in his stress, but he couldn’t help it. 

“You could ‘cone of shame them,’” Norm said, putting away the equipment. 

“My children are not shameful,” an offended Neytiri said at the same time Jake asked,

“A cone?”

“Sorry, Neytiri, I meant nothing by it. It’s an Earth thing. Uh, Jake, so it wouldn’t be a real cone. It’d be more like a wrap.” 

“Wrap?” Neytiri asked.

“Yeah, get a piece of fabric, wrap it where they connect, and lightly tie it. Then, for extra security, swaddle them individually.”

Jake and Neytiri stared at each other dumbly. Why didn’t they think of that? No matter, the idea was there, so they did it. 

“Thank you, Norm-Spellman ,” Neytiri smiled. 

“You’re welcome, Neytiri. Glad I could help– ah! Miles, oh my goodness!” Norm was interrupted as the almost-one-year-old started to climb him. 

Jake laughed at his friend, “Damn, he really is like a spider.”

“I know, we call him Spider-Man sometimes. When he’s older, we’re gonna show him comics,” he said, trying to balance the small child.

“Spider- Man? He is but a child. Calling him Spider- Boy would be better, no?” Neytiri suggested. 

“You know what a spider is?” asked Jake. 

“Yes, I learned with Dr. Augustine,” she said matter-of-factly. 

Norm snickered at Jake’s ignorance before turning back to Neytiri, “Spider-Man is an Earth story, and Spider-Boy sounds weird. Eh, maybe we’ll call him Spider.”

“Very cute,” Neytiri said while swaddling Ä’amai.

“Guess so, although I hope we won’t ever get to, and he’ll grow out of this climbing stuff.” Norm crouched down, balancing Miles, who was now sitting on his shoulders, “Come on, baby Miles, let’s go take a nap.” Miles did not look tired in the slightest. 

Jake finished Neteyam’s swaddle and laughed at the scientist, “Good luck with that one, buddy,” 

Neytiri laughed as well as she finished Ä’amai’s swaddle, “Yes, the child is very much awake,” a pause, “ buddy. ” She added quickly, trying her luck on the English term.

At Norm’s confused yet amused face, Jake responds, “We teach each other words.”

“Okay then,” he secured Miles in a safe hold, “I better get going then. Call us if you guys need anything at all. Bye bye. Say bye, Miles,” Miles waved his little hand goodbye, and the three people left the room.

With the babies swaddled and kurus wrapped, the new parents were ready to leave. When the twins felt the security of being swaddled, they looked stressed at first since they could no longer touch. Luckily, they realized they still had tsaheylu formed, and they calmed down and slept.

“Alright, back in the basket you go,” Jake transferred them back to the carrier, “Ready, baby?” He wrapped his arms around her waist. 

“Yes, let us go begin the day properly,” she smiled and leaned forward as Jake leaned down. They shared a kiss before they each grabbed a handle on the basket and walked back to the Omaticaya.

“Nga yawne lu oer,” Jake smiled warmly.

Neytiri laughed softly, “Nga yawne lu oer Ma’Jake.”

Chapter Text

“ Lie si oe Neteyamur

Nawma sa’nokur mifa oeyä ,”

Neytiri smiled at her two-week-old babies as she sang to them. She finally completed the song that would go in the middle of her and Jake’s songcords, but only the beginning of theirs. Her babies were so little,

“ Antanti ngal molunge

Mipa tìreyti, mipa ‘itanti,”

Neytiri could feel the comforting weight of her mate leaning over her shoulders. She remembers when he told her his family wasn’t too touchy, so he didn’t really “do” physical affection. Meanwhile, the Omaticaya were very physically affectionate. Neytiri smiled even more when she realized how far he had come. Although she couldn’t see his face, the mother knew Jake was listening intently. She had kept the lyrics a surprise until she was sure they were perfect,

“ Lawnol a mì te’lan

Lawnol a mì te’lan

Ngaru irayo seiyi ayoe

Tonìri tìreyä

Ngaru irayo seiyi ayoe

Srrìri tìreyä

Ma Eywa

Ma Eywa,”

She finished off the first half of the lullaby by nuzzling her son’s tiny nose. When she rose, Neteyam’s wide eyes were still glued to her. He looked at his sister, and they shared a smile. Neytiri’s own smile never left her face as she shifted her gaze to her little girl, 

“ Oe ‘efu Ä’amai, ”

Writing the twin’s verses was tough. She had to try her best not to repeat the same thing twice. Like always, though, the warrior eagerly rose to the challenge. Ä’amai was still looking at her brother, so Neytiri gave her soft belly a gentle scratch, 

“ Nawma sa’nokur tirea hu ngal,”

Ä’amai’s eyes now faced her mother’s face. Goodness, every day, it became more apparent that her eyes were more prominent than her brother’s. Since they looked so similar, that was one of the ways that they could tell them apart. A slight difference from the otherwise identical siblings, 

“ Antanti muve nrr txanatan

Mipa tìreyti, mipa ‘iteti

Lawnol a mi te’lan

Lawnol a mi te’lan

Ngaru irayo seiyi ayoe 

Tonìri tìreyä

Ngaru irayo seiyi ayoe

Srrìri tìreyä

Ma Ewya

Ma Ewya,”

The lullaby finished, and Neytiri nuzzled her daughter’s nose as well. The baby slowly blinked, but when her eyes opened, they were half-lidded. Neteyam’s were the same, and they yawned in unison. 

“Going to sleep already?” She shuddered at her mate’s low voice that came from behind her. 

“Yes, they are tired, plus they have just eaten. It makes them very sleepy.” 

From Jake’s point of view, he could see Neytiri’s face illuminated by the crackling hearth they had that was separate from the rest of the clan. God, she was beautiful, “The song probably helped too. I mean, if a beautiful lady with a beautiful voice sung me a lullaby with lyrics she made just for me , I think I’d be put to sleep too, or ,” Jake gently took Neytiri’s chin, “I’d just wanna kiss her,” he looked her in the eyes and did just that. When they pulled apart, they still held each other’s gaze, “Seriously, babe , I love it. What a great surprise, I can’t wait to add it.”

“Hnn, thank you yawne, but I am not just some ‘lady’. I am their mother.” Neytiri bopped him on the nose before she turned back to the now-sleeping babies, “Besides, they have a big day ahead of them tomorrow.” The golden-eyed woman referred to the welcoming ceremony meant to occur the following day. The event would officially announce Ä’amai and Neteyam as their children and introduce them to the clan. 

Jake had first learned about the ceremony when Grace and Norm were educating him on the Omaticaya. He had told the two of them that it resembled what the monkey had done to Simba at the beginning of the old film: ‘The Lion King.’ They had smacked him. That didn’t stop Jake from referring to it like that in his head, though. 

A few moments later, another clan member brought Jake and Neytiri food, snapping him out of his thoughts. Since they were still new parents, the clan members did their best to help. It felt a little weird at first, but Jake soon learned that nothing he said or did would persuade them not to help them as much. 

The parents woke up the following day, ready for the welcoming ceremony. Neytiri wore a top with woven straps adorned with beads and colorful leaves hanging down. She looked beautiful, as always. Jake wore the traditional garb of an Omaticaya Olo’eyktan. Neytiri told him he looked handsome, but like every other time he had worn the garments, he couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable. Sometimes, he felt like an imposter, like he didn’t deserve the title. No matter how much Neytiri and Mo’at reassured him.

During the actual ceremony, he and Neytiri stood in the middle of a circle of Omaticaya and humans alike. While Jake couldn’t see Neteyam’s and Ä’amai’s faces when he lifted them to the ring of light peeking from the treetops, Neytiri said they were looking at the sky in complete wonder. 

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

Soon enough, the weeks turned into one whole month. The very day the twins reached one month of life, Jake and Neytiri took them to Hell’s Gate and tried to disconnect them (they knew that if something happened, the fast-acting medical devices would be safest). At first, everyone in the room had been hopeful. The twins were breathing independently for about five minutes, but suddenly, their eyes went wide, and they just stopped. Their tails stopped flickering. Their chests stopped rising. Hell, their tanhì had started to flicker like a lamp that had lost energy! Even the steady beeping of the machine they were hooked up to turned erratic until they reconnected them. Slowly, but steadily, everything went back to normal.  

It was only when they reached three months that the twins could survive on their own,

Despite this, they still spend most of their time connected. It was probably comforting. However, they did fall asleep and were not connected for the first time, and that’s when they learned that the tsaheylu was what kept them from acting like normal babies. They essentially would calm each other down. The way they’d comfort one another would turn out to be helpful, actually, as also, in the third month, it was discovered that Grace’s avatar was pregnant . How? They don’t really know, but Jake and Neytiri volunteered to adopt the child. 

As soon as the twins could survive without tsaheylu, Neytiri practically jumped on the chance to get them to do their first communion with Eywa. So that also happened at three months. Jake held Ä’amai, and watching her eyes gain an extra twinkle when she felt the connection made his heart sore. Jake couldn’t help but smile at her, which earned Jake her first laugh . Wow. Neytiri had experienced the same thing with Neteyam. When they were born, the twins' life-filled cries had been the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard, but their laughs may have just raced their way to the top. 

Jake had given his children English pet names; it had been an accident, but the nicknames stayed when Neytiri smiled at them (when he explained their meanings). He had taken to calling Ä’amai ‘babydoll’ because, well, she looked like one. With her thick head of hair and large, ever-staring eyes. Even though Neteyam looked practically the same, he ended up dubbing his son ‘baby boy,’ a simple and sweet name. Anyway, the twins thrived, and Grace’s baby was developing great. Everything was settling into place just nicely. 

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

It was now the month of October. The sky people had such a whimsy way of keeping track of the days. Neytiri had to admit these ‘months’ did help keep track of her children’s steady growth. Anyways, she and her mate were preparing to introduce Ä’amai and Neteyam to regular foods. Currently, they are selecting some fruits that would be good starters for the babies. The very fruit that they decided to mash up was yovo. Yovo was soft, so it was easy to mash. The fruit was also sweet and had been one of Neytiri’s favorites since childhood. However, through the process of smashing the fruit, she began to feel sick to her stomach. The very sight of the mush made her feel a wave of nausea. Never mind that, though, Neytiri pushed through. Her kids needed to eat, 

“Alright, Ma’Jake, are they ready?” she turned around, fruit bowl in hand. 

“Yup, they’re a-sitting and a-waiting,” Neteyam and Ä’amai were cutely sat on the swing seats that hung from the tent’s beams, “You want me to feed them?”

“If you wish to,” she handed him the evil bowl of mashed fruit along with two small spoons. The sick feeling still lingered, and the sweet smell of the yovo made her stomach continuously turn. So, she was happy to hand over the bowl. 

“Alright, now, who’s first?” Jake held the spoon between the two skeptical babies, waiting to see who would go for it first, “Hey, what’s with the side eyes now? Come on, it’s good!” He took the other spoon and dramatically fed himself a spoonful, “ Mmm, so good,” the babies looked at each other and then back at their father. Soon, Ä’amai decided to lean toward the spoon, “That’s right, babydoll, try the yummy fruit!” Jake brought the utensil to her open mouth, and she took the sweet mash to her lips. She somehow got it all over her mouth. Some of it made it in though. When the taste hit her, Ä’amai let out a high-pitched squeal, “It’s good, huh? Come on, baby boy, you try now,” Neteyam took a spoonful and had the same reaction. From there, the twins happily ate the whole bowl.

Neytiri could see and hear her children enjoying the fruit and how happy they were, but she could not enjoy it. The nausea only increased as she saw how messily the two were eating. With every passing second, the mashed fruit resembled less and less like one of her favorite treats and more like– more like, 

“ Ma’Jake, ” she said quickly, covering her mouth. 

“Yeah babe, what’s up– oh my god, ” the English phrase slipped out as Jake saw his distressed mate. He took a quick look at the content and full babies, jumping into action. He took the empty bowl and held it before his mate’s face. Jake put a supportive hand on Neytiri’s back before she just let it all out. Literally. 

“Baby? Can you stand?” Neytiri groaned but nodded, “Alright, let’s see your mom then. I’ll grab the kids. I just need you to stand.” Jake grabbed the kids and placed them in the baby wraps across his chest before carefully helping Neytri stand.

So… Neytiri was pregnant. That’s what Mo’at said. 

Fuck. 

I mean, yay , there were happy, but… fuck. Their new daughter was set to be born in March next year, and if Jake did the math correctly… the new baby should be born in June that same year. The twins would be a year old, and Grace’s baby would be about three months. Okay, uh, at least the twins wouldn’t need Neytiri to feed them anymore (breastfeed, at least). That’s some stress taken off his mate, but still, she’d need a lot of rest. When he told Norm about the pregnancy, he laughed at him, but then he got really serious. Norm had asked him if they still wanted to adopt their soon-to-daughter,

“I mean, if you do, you’ll have four kids under two by June next year.” He had said. 

Jake responded with, “Yes, dude, who else would? You guys can’t raise a Na’vi baby in here and–”

“Well, what about the other clan members?” Norm interrupted. 

“Look, yeah, the Omaticaya loved Grace, but they see this as unnatural . Grace died that night. She died in the Eye of Ewya, in her human body . The transfer never happened. As far as we know, the avatar has no soul. They don’t know what to make of this, and frankly, we don’t either. The thing is, though, Neytiri and I already spoke about this, the repercussions, and what the clan could say, and we don’t care. We will not dishonor Grace. She was an amazing mentor and teacher, and– geez –she was like my mother . The baby will be our daughter. We’ll take care of her. Like Grace took care of me– of us .”

Silence followed, filled only by Jake’s heavy breathing. Norm stared blankly at him,

“Okay,” Norm breathed, “well, she’s doing fantastic. She's very healthy indeed. We’ll keep you guys updated.” 

“Thanks,” a curt response. 

“No problem, how’re the kids doing?”

“Heh, Neteyam and Ä’amai are doing great,” Jake got a dopey smile on his face, “they’ve been eating mashed fruits, vegetables, and, like, the Na’vi equivalent of oatmeal. They like most things, which is good. It’s actually funny when they don’t like something because they’ll still try to eat it even though it’s clear they don’t like it. They scrunch up their little faces like,” Jake tried to mimic his children. Norm chuckled at the attempt, “Yeah, I know. Uh, we’re thinking about starting them on small solids soon. Their teeth are starting to come in slowly. So we’re gonna start small and soft.”

“Nice, nice. Miles is still doing great. He’s one year old as of August and has yet to outgrow the climbing. If anything, it’s gotten worse. Spider might just be here to stay,” Norm groaned, remembering chasing the child up and down Hell’s Gate, “we got the mask to fit him, so we’ve also been taking him on walks.”

“Oh, that’s cool. Well, the kid is definitely a handful. I’m sure mine will be too, can’t expect them all to be calm like the twins. Which ,” Jake began to stand, “I should be getting back to them now. I’ll tell Neytiri that babygirl is doing great and, yeah , bye man,” he stretched out a hand to his friend.

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

The months that followed went by faster than Jake could keep up with. Neytiri and Grace were having healthy pregnancies with even healthier babies. It was December when the twins learned how to crawl! Now, they were up to all kinds of shenanigans. One of which may or may not have involved an embarrassing incident, which may or may not have involved his tail. And pain. Jake would never tell. Anyhow, the twins hit their milestones perfectly. The month before, they had learned to sit up on their own and ate their first solid! These things seemed so miniscule, but Jake was so proud of his babies.

Miles was still doing great, although he had yet to grow out of climbing every single thing he could. So it seemed that Spider was here to stay. When the twins began to crawl, they enjoyed playing with Spider. Although at first, the human child didn’t understand why the babies couldn’t walk, considering they were about his size (maybe even a little bigger even). Either way, Spider was happy to have a playmate.

The months kept on coming, and all of a sudden, it was March. The month their daughter was due. Neytiri and Jake wanted to brainstorm names in advance this time around and decided on Kiri. It was short, simple, and very cute. So, it was perfect for their unborn daughter. Neytiri’s pregnancy was progressing smoothly as well. Jake ensured his mate got plenty of food, water, and rest not only for her pregnancy but also to prepare for the arrival of two new babies. Although, for now, Ä’amai and Neteyam were their main focus. The couple wanted to make sure the twins got all the love they could before they were joined by two newborns who would need constant attention. 

Recently, the twins had taken to babbling the days away, always making cute little noises. Jake found this hilarious, especially since they had gained the ability to make such noises a few months ago but only now became enamored with it. Currently, they were crawling around the tent in circles, babbling about before they stopped on the side of the tent opposite their parents, 

“Sa, sa, sa, sa,” was all they said before they suddenly stopped. Still, Jake and Neytiri watched with delight. They stared at each other, continuing to make the noise with concentration plastered on their little faces, 

“Sa-ahhh,” they dragged out the sound, their voices gaining a higher pitch, “Nu!” 

Hearing the two sounds put together, the parents silenced their soft laughter. They didn’t want to get too excited, lest they scare the kids,

“Sa’nu!” Ä’amai squealed, confirming what the two leaders thought they heard. 

“Sa’nu!” Neteyam repeating the phrase just as excited. 

The two of them started crawling their merry way over to Neytiri, repeating the word over and over again. 

Neytiri watched them with a twinkle in her eyes and her teeth on full display. She let the children come to her, and Jake pulled out the tablet he kept in their home and propped it up before pressing record, 

“What was that, my little Paskalins?” she asked, cupping her ear playfully.

Neteyam and Ä’amai began to get upset they weren’t making it to their mother fast enough. The two plopped down next to each other, huffing. It was honestly adorable. Their close proximity caused their kurus to connect, which sort of just happened when they would get too close. This seemed like it was their lightbulb moment as their eyes went wide. Cue some very adorable baby grunts as the twins tried to stand. They had already done the action a few times, but it was what they did afterward that made Jake want to start cheering. 

One step, okay.

Two steps, fantastic.

Three steps, come on now.

A little wobble. Should he catch them?

Four steps. Woo!

And they were off!

“Sa’nu! Sa’nu!” they repeated in slurred baby voices while walking, yes, walking , to their mother. 

Neytiri was beaming, “Yes, yes, yawntutsyìps! Come to sa’nu!” The twins finally made their wobbly way to Neytiri’s open arms. She lifted them up to her chest, mindful of her belly. 

“Sa’nu!” Neteyam and Ä’amai rubbed their faces on Neytiri’s cheek. 

“What!” Jake said from the side, “Not fair, I want some of that,” the babies looked to their father with matching smiles on their faces, “ Come on, say Sempu. You can do it! Sss-ehh-mmm-poo,” Jake exaggerated each sound out for them, trying to get them to say the word. 

Ä’amai and Neteyam blinked at him before happily exclaiming, “Sa’nu,” once more. 

“Ugh,” Jake hit his forehead in mock disappointment, and he fell backward in a playful manner. Jake saw the twins looking at him sprawled on the floor before they turned back from their mother,

“Sa’nu!” Neytiri laughed at her mate’s misfortune and nuzzled their little noses.

Jake laughed it off and joined the three of them in a family hug. One arm wrapped around Neytiri and the twins, and the other holding Neytiri’s small baby bump,

“Now all we need is our other little girl,” Jake rubbed his forehead on the side of Neytiri’s head. 

“Yes, then we’d be complete,” Neytiri copied the motion. 

The night was perfect, in Jake’s opinion. The father set up the tent for sleep as Neytiri rocked the kids until their eyes slowly closed and their breathing evened out. 

That same night, an avatar would rush into the tent of the sleeping family. Kiri was born, and she was small, and she was healthy, and she was– oh so adorable . Their baby girl came into the world with little eyebrows paired with four fingers and four toes. Honestly, Jake didn’t expect such standard features to make him tear up, but they did. The same would happen a few months later when his son was born– their little Lo’ak. 

Now, if the twins were copied and pasted Neytiris and Kiri was literally Grace’s clone , then Lo’ak was a mini Jake. Was he ready to deal with a copy of himself? Probably not, but he’d manage for his baby. 

Having four kids wasn’t something Jake had ever pictured for himself, but now– Jake couldn’t think of anything that would be better. 

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

The twins were now seven. Oh, how fast Neytiri’s children were growing. She didn’t know how she would handle the coming years. The family now lived in the forest dwellings along with the rest of the Omaticaya Clan, now that it was deemed safe enough. All her children were also coming along nicely in their separate ways. Ä’amai and Neteyam learned things at a record-breaking pace. Neytiri would not be surprised if they were ready for ikrans soon. Her unique little Kiri loved and understood the creations of Eywa like no one she’d ever seen. It wasn’t odd to find the girl on the forest floor, taking everything in. Lastly, her baby Lo’ak, always trying to trail behind his eldest siblings. The boy often didn’t understand why he couldn’t do things like the twins, but the eldest two always tried to explain and make him feel better.

Recently, the twins had begun learning to hunt, and they were doing great. At the moment, Jake was teaching Neteyam to shoot a bow to catch fish. Neytiri was with her daughter, teaching her how to stalk properly. The skill would come in handy when sneaking around while hunting. She and Ä’amai were crouched down, their bodies almost touching the forest floor. They were behind the two boys, listening to their words. They had yet to notice them. Good. Ä’amai turned her head to her mother and flashed her a toothy smile. Neytiri returned the gesture but put a finger to her lips, reminding the young girl to be quiet. 

“There you go. Go get it!”

Ä’amai snapped back into her task, hearing her father’s voice get slightly louder. Neytiri would not tell her when to pounce. She would let her learn on her own,

“Hey, Neteyam, the mighty fisherman,” the father and son shared a sweet interaction that brought a smile to the mother’s face. Sounds of quiet celebration filled the small clearing around the creek.

Apparently, Ä’amai saw this as her chance to attack. Neytiri didn’t even notice, as she was too focused on the other two,

Hmm, good job, Neytiri thought to herself. 

“Ah!” Neteyam jumped and dropped his fish.

“Sweet Jesus!” Jake yelped simultaneously, the English escaping him, “Geez, Mai, give a guy a warning!”

Yup, that was definitely Neytiri’s daughter,

“Uh, uh,” the little girl shook her head, “Sa’nu said a good hunter should be quiet and vig– vigilant! So that they are not seen or heard. Why would I tell you when I’m coming,” she stated proudly from her place on her father’s leg. 

“You got me there, babydoll, but come on,” Jake picked up his daughter, “can’t you go easy on dear old dad?”

Ä’amai thought about it, “No,” she jumped from her father’s arms to meet her brother, “You did really good Teyam! You got the fish so fast!” 

Neteyam giggled and picked up the fish he dropped, “Thank you,” he dusted the fish carefully, “there! Now, we can have it for dinner!” The twins nodded at each other, “Your sneaking was really cool, ma’tsmuke! I did not even hear you!”

Ä’amai and Neteyam excitedly talked about their new skills, miming the actions to each other. The little blue girl took a step back,

“Okay, okay, you try Teyam!” She stomped her feet earnestly like she was dancing, “The pouncing part,” she specified. 

“Alright, Mai,” Neteyam geared up in a tackling position, and Ä’amai braced for impact. Hold on, wait—

“Hey, be careful, you two–” Jake was too late as Neteyam essentially tackled his sister and not a gentle pounce but a full-on American football tackle. Luckily, it was straight into the water. 

The parents waited for the twins to make noise before they stepped in. Soon enough, their infectious giggles erupted into the air. They splashed each other with water, laughing all the while. Jake and Neytiri laughed along, thankful that they weren’t hurt. 

“Do not worry, my children. You will learn many skills in the future. Some will be challenging, but I know you will both be mighty hunters,” Neytiri assured them. 

The two perked up, “Warriors too?” They asked in unison. 

Neither Neytiri nor Jake liked the thought of their babies fighting dangerous battles. However, they sensed the childlike wonder and innocence in their words. So the parents played along,

“Well, of course,” Neytiri responded, “but only if you wish to,” she quickly added. 

The matching Na’vi nodded furiously.

“Then,” Jake walked into the shallow water to pick up his kids, “I guess it’s settled, don’t you think?”

“Yes, I believe it is Ma’Jake,”

“What is?” Neteyam asked.  

“Should we tell them?” Jake gave his mate a coy smile, purposefully ignoring the question. 

Ä’amai and Neteyam gained matching pouts, “Tell us what?” The girl asked. 

“I think we should,” Neytiri sing-songed. 

“Hmm, alright. Well, Ä’amai, Neteyam,” he nodded at each of them, “if you guys want to, starting tomorrow, we can begin training–”

“For iknimaya?” They interrupted out of excitement. 

Jake laughed, “Yes, for iknimayas. Do the both of you accept this offer?” He asked with a mock formality. 

“Yes! Yes!”

“Then there we have it,” Neytiri pet the back of their heads, leaning her own onto her mate’s shoulder.

“Mmm hmm, our little Neteyam and Ä’amai, the mighty warriors.”

And mighty they would be.

Chapter Text

Years went by, time went on, and the Sullys were now a family of seven! Little Tuk surprised them seven years ago. Kiri was fourteen, Lo’ak was almost fourteen, and the twins had just turned fifteen. Over the years, Ä’amai and Neteyam had proven themselves true Omaticaya prodigies. At only thirteen years old, they became the youngest ever to complete the full iknimaya– dream hunt included –only a year after earning their ikrans.

This being the case, they were mature for their age, always trying to embody the spirits of future Olo’eyktans. Frequently, they’d be the ones watching out for their rowdy younger siblings. Especially Lo’ak, which brings them to their current predicament, 

“Ground team, go!”

Ä’amai, Neteyam, and Lo’ak were flying as spotters during the ambush. Lo’ak was only there because he claimed he was old enough (he was turning fourteen next week). Also, the twins may or may not have seen how much this meant to Lo’ak and vouched for him to avoid arguments. Lo’ak wore the facepaint of a trainee who had not completed his full iknimaya to show he was not yet a full-fledged warrior. Neteyam and Ä’amai had opted for their warrior-style chokers, visors, riding gear, and cummerbunds. Ä’amai was aware that women hardly wore the cummerbunds, but it didn’t mean they couldn’t. Most just preferred not to. Besides, the twins had always enjoyed matching a little. 

As the rest of the squad flew down, the three spotters stayed in the air. Neteyam and Ä’amai watched the skies and the battleground vigilantly. They’ve done this once before. They knew what to do.

“Guys,” Lo’ak grabbed their attention, “we have got to get down there.”

They shot exasperated faces at their brother and shook their heads,

“No way! Dad will skin us!” Neteyam scolded. 

“Exactly, we are spotters, Lo’ak . We stay in the air and spot things . That’s it!” Ä’amai added. 

“Come on. Don’t be wussies,” the boy disregarded his siblings and flew down.

“Lo’ak!” They shouted in frustration.

“Get back here, you– Argh!” Neteyam tried, but he was already gone.

“Unbelievable,” Ä’amai shook her head before nodding to her twin, “Come on, let’s go.”

Neteyam nodded, and they dived after their idiotic brother. Luckily, they all landed at roughly the same time. Unluckily, Lo’ak landed slightly before them and rushed off as soon as his ikran touched the ground, 

“Bro, let’s go. Come on!” Lo’ak rushed out, referring to the both of them.

“Lo’ak!” Neteyam yelled at the same time that his sister yelled,

“Get back here!”

“Okay, let’s go.” Lo’ak ignored them and ran off into the heat of battle. 

Neteyam tried his name again to no avail. They ran off as well, trailing close behind their younger brother. 

In the middle of the conflict, Tarsem handed out skyperson weapons to the warriors. When they had finally caught up to the young boy, they saw Tarsem giving Lo’ak a gun. 

Why would Tarsem give him that? I thought he was smarter, Ä’amai thought, ugh.

The young boy ululated, carelessly waving the deadly weapon in the air, which only added to her building annoyance. One quick look at her twin, she saw he felt the same. She put a hand on Lo’ak’s shoulder and gave him a warning glare. That he ignored. Neteyam swatted the gun, 

“You don’t even know how to use it,” he said.

Lo’ak loaded the gun, looking the older boy in the eye, “Dad taught me,” he said smugly. 

Of course, he did.

“He taught us too, but we are not acting like trigger-happy skxawngs. Now put it down, and let’s go ,” she said through gritted teeth. 

He rolled his eyes at her and told her the danger words, “Relax,”

Relax? Didn’t their father teach him any better? Ä’amai took a deep breath in, trying not to yell at her brother, 

“Enough, stop being stupid. You are going to get yourself killed!” In all fairness, she didn’t yell. She only slightly raised her voice. Slightly. 

“Alright, mom– ” Lo’ak didn’t get to finish his mocking words as their father’s voice cut through the chaos,

“Gunship’s inbound! Fall back!”

Shit. 

Ä’amai watched Lo’ak’s ear pin back as he took in the situation , “Guys, come on!” He yelled out. 

The explosion came fast and loud. The enormous boom and scattered battle cries made the three siblings hit the ground running. The twins attempted to stay on either side of Lo’ak, the male counterpart a little ways in front and the female counterpart trailing slightly behind. Just to be safe. Ä’amai’s ears went wild, trying to hear every sound around her. When the sharp whistle of an incoming missile became apparent that it was close, she jumped to push Lo’ak out of harm's way. Unknowingly, this action pushed her closer to ground zero.

The wind of the explosion is what hit her first. She braced herself for the incoming pain. The pain that came wasn’t what she expected. It was less. The rubble that flew up shielded her from the brunt of the explosion, but it also buried her. The pressure of the heavy metal and concrete mixed with mysterious chest pains left her unable to escape. 

For a moment, everything went black. When the world came back into view, all she saw were the cracks of light peaking through the rubble, and all she heard was a ringing in her ears.

“Mai?” Lo’ak’s voice painfully bounced around her head. She tried her best to respond, despite the pain,

“Lo’ak,” her voice was tight and muffled by the heavy objects that lay over her body. 

“Mai! Stay–” Before he got a chance to finish, Ä’amai made out her father’s voice calling for his children. The pain only got worse the longer she was under the rubble, the pressure being the contributing factor. Her ears picked up her father, asking where she and Neteyam were. With the breath she had, Ä’amai attempted to help,

“Here, sir!” 

Her father must have heard her as she felt the pressure lifted off her chest almost immediately. Her vision was blurry, but soon, the image of her father’s face came into focus. She felt the man turn her front and back, checking for deadly injuries. When he saw none, he began to ask questions her delirious mind only somewhat understood, 

“What are you doing here, huh?” He asked roughly. 

“I– I am sorry, sir,” she wheezed. Why did breathing hurt?

“ Argh– whatever, come on girl,” Ä’amai felt herself being hoisted onto his hip, mimicking the times he would pick her up when she was small, before he took off in a sprint, calling for Neteyam. 

It wasn’t long before Neteyam was slung over their father’s shoulders, his face meeting hers on the man’s right shoulder. Weakly, Ä’amai grabbed her brother’s kuru, hoping to strengthen them both. It worked, and the two gasped with enough energy to hold onto Toruk Makto’s ikran by themselves. 

The ride back to High Camp was swift and quiet. When they arrived, Neteyam shakily got off the animal and helped his sister, who landed on the ground with a wobble. Nonetheless, they walked shamefully over to their father, who was standing sternly by the rest of their family. As the two stood, awaiting a lecture, the sharp pains in  Ä’amai’s chest kept coming, 

“You’re supposed to be spotters. You spot bogeys, and you call ‘em in. From a distance! Any of that ring a bell?” He looked at them expectantly, growing more frustrated by the minute, “Get here!” Lo’ak, who straggled behind, moved forward, “I let you three geniuses fly a mission, and you disobey direct orders,” Kiri made her way over to the twins, inspecting them for injuries. This seemed to annoy their father as he instructed her to help with the wounded. Ignoring the fact that his own children were wounded. 

Kiri simply looked up at him, “My brother and sister are wounded,” she stated plainly, obviously trying to stand her ground.

“Kiri, it is okay,” Ä’amai tried to push the girl off of her. 

“It’s fine,” Neteyam said as well. 

“Tuk, go with her. Go,” Kiri rolled her eyes and left with the youngest Sully.

“Dad– sir, we take full responsibility,” Neteyam started. 

“Sir, the fault is ours. We should have,” the twins spoke over each other, but neither got to finish, 

“Yeah, you do, and it is ,” he told them harshly. Ä’amai felt her ears go down slightly, shame filling her, “‘Cause you’re the older siblings, alright? You two gotta act like it,” the older sibling card was something their dad used a lot, but it didn’t stop feeling like the worst insult in the world. Guilt always devoured Ä’amai and Neteyam whenever he used it.

“Ma’Jake,” their mother stepped in, putting an arm around her daughter, subtly feeling her chest for any injuries they might’ve missed. The right arm went to Neteyam’s head, “Your children are actually bleeding, and–” Ä’amai gasped in pain as her mother brushed over a particularly sensitive spot. The mother quickly grabbed her daughter by the shoulders to get a closer look, “Ma’Jake, stop this and take your daughter to see Tsahik. Now. ” 

“Ah!” Ä’amai’s knees buckled, and the sharp pains turned into stabbing ones. Literally, it felt like she had been stabbed. 

“Shit, come on, girl,” her father lowered himself and moved her top out of the way, “fuck that’s shrapnel. Why didn’t you say anything?” Is that what that was? She was awfully close to flying debris. Slowly, he assisted the girl in standing up.

“Sorry sir,” she grunted, “I can walk,” noticing her mother was about to step in again, “It’s fine, Mother, truly.” Ä’amai could tell that her mom didn’t want to let it go, but she held her tongue.

Her dad looked like he wanted to say something more, maybe comfort them even, “Both of you, go get patched up. Go on, dismissed,” but then again, he hadn’t comforted them since the sky people returned. Arm in arm, she and Neteyam limped away to see their grandmother.

Ä’amai tried not to show it, but walking was growing more difficult by the step. As a matter of fact, so was breathing. But of course, Neteyam saw right through her, 

“Do you want me to carry you?” He asked softly.

“No, it’s alright, you are injured as well. Besides, it’s this stupid sky people metal. I just need it out, like yesterday.”

Neteyam nodded, and the two took a couple of steps in silence before the boy cracked a small smile,

“What is it?” Ä’amai asked, a smile of her own forming.

“Grandmother will not let you out of her sight once she sees you.”

“Do not act like I am the only injured one, but whatever, why don’t we test that theory.”

The once identical siblings stood in front of the Tsahik’s tent. Out of the corner of her eye, Ä’amai saw Neteyam smile mischievously. Her eyes went wide as she realized what her twin was about to do,

“Neteyam, don’t you dare–”

“Grandmother! Ä’amai jumped into an explosion!” He called from the entrance of the tent. A sharp gasp came from the inside. That must’ve been Grandmother. Ä’amai rolled her eyes,

“Look what you have done,” Neteyam snickered, “...bitch,” the use of the English curse only made her brother laugh more.

In the middle of his laughing fit, Neteyam leaned forward, “Ow, ow, ow,” his wounds strained from laughing too hard. 

“That’s what you get skxawng,” she smirked. 

“Stop this immature bickering,” their grandmother said, all of a sudden standing before them, “now, let grandmother see,” Ä’amai puffed her chest the best she could as Grandmother moved her top out of the way, “oh dear, you will need stitching. Let us go, now.” Grandmother then proceeded to lift her as if she were a tired baby. At fifteen years of age, Ä’amai was being cradle carried. She felt her face rapidly heat up, 

“I can walk just fine, Grandmother!”

“Ha!” Neteyam jested. 

“Nonsense, young lady, you should have thought about this before jumping to an explosion, and you , young man, are not innocent either. I suggest you go sit.” She ended sternly.

“Yes, grandmother,” they said in defeat. The Tsahik walked into the tent, her granddaughter in her arms and her grandson beside her. The older woman placed Ä’amai in a sitting position on a soft blanket and handed her a cup with a mysterious liquid. Curious, she looked at its contents, grimacing once she realized what it was. 

“Yes, you know what that is, child, now drink.” Grandmother pointed at her before turning her attention to Neteyam, “Sit, boy,” her brother sat beside her with some difficulty. One last pointed look at the twins and Grandmother walked to Kiri, Spider, and Tuk. 

Were they always standing there? Just how hard did Ä’amai hit her head?

Her back now turned to the twins. The Tsahik and her younger sister were mixing medicines for the Neteyam and Ä’amai. The teenage girl looked down at the cup with disdain,

“ Ä’amai, drink it ,” she wasn’t even looking at her, “Neteyam, do not laugh. You are next,” the smile that had begun to form disappeared with their grandmother’s words. 

Slowly, Ä’amai brought the cup to her lips and took a sip. As soon as the liquid hit her tongue, she gagged. Ä’amai had to physically retrain herself from spitting it out. She knew the odd mixture was meant to help with pain and somewhat numb her– but it was foul !

“Tastes good, Mai?” Spider asked in a teasing tone. The human boy walked over to stand behind the twins. 

“Shut it, Spider,” she grimaced, taking another drink. 

“Come on, sis, just down it all at once,” Lo’ak said, entering the Tsahik’s tent, “how are you guys?” he asked, a hint of worry in his tone. 

“Fine. It’s not too bad.” Neteyam replied. 

“Yeah, we’re good. Sitting down helps a bit.” Ä’amai plugged her nose and forced the rest of the medicine down her throat, “Ugh, that’s nasty,” she commented before turning her head to Lo’ak, “How was dad?” The boy looked off to the side, and at this point, she knew what that meant. Her baby brother and father never truly seemed to look eye to eye. They would always fight, and the outcome never seemed to be in Lo’ak’s favor. 

“Off to the side now with you boys,” Grandmother shooed Spider and Lo’ak away and began to apply medicine to Neteyam’s back, “Ä’amai, we will need to wait for the medicine to kick in before we do anything, or else the treatment will hurt you. Understood?” She nodded, “Very well, let us get started, Neteyam.”  

Lo’ak now stood over by Neteyam, away from her. Alright, speaking with her baby brother would have to wait. 

With no one to speak to her, Ä’amai could only focus on her breathing. Which made it increasingly harder to act, 

When would that wretched medicine kick in? she wondered. The small pieces of metal began to feel like a thousand needles stabbing her all at once. Every time she took a breath in, the needles stabbed. Just a minute before, Ä’amai had been engrossed in the well-being of her brothers, and now all she could think about was herself…? Pathetic.

In the back of her mind, she heard Neteyam’s small “ows” as grandmother applied the healing paste. She heard Lo’ak and Spider making fun of him like skxawngs. Perhaps she would laugh, too, if her mind wasn’t elsewhere. Ä’amai barely registered Kiri speaking. Was she… correcting their grandmother? Something about using yalna bark? Trying to keep her thoughts off her pain, Ä’amai dug deep into her early teachings. When yalna bark was used on injuries, it was meant to sting less. Grandmother knew this. It was likely her way of punishing the twins.

Slowly, the pain began to fade, but a new problem arose. She felt her body heat up, and the room started to sway, 

“Mai– ah!” Neteyam’s voice cut through before he hissed in pain.

“Be careful, child– Kiri, take over!” Grandmother ordered. 

Ä’amai felt soft pressure on her shoulders, keeping her grounded,

“I got you, sis,” the world started to level itself. She blinked, “You good?” As her vision cleared, she saw Lo’ak looking back at her. 

“Mhm, just… got a little dizzy,” she formed a small smile. 

“Thank you, Lo’ak, I will take it from here.”

The young boy’s hands left her and were replaced by their grandmother’s. One hand on her shoulder and the other placed on her forehead, 

“Alright, my dear, I’m going to assist you with laying down and then begin taking out the metal.” Ä’amai nodded. Laying down would be nice . 

Due to the medicine, Ä’amai couldn’t feel her grandmother pulling shards out or stitching her up. She could see her siblings sitting around her. Tuk was holding her hand to her little face, 

“I’m here, Mai,” her soft voice said. Oh, how she hated worrying the little one. 

“Thank you, Tuk-Tuk,” her voice came out in steady breaths.

“Alright, the medicine is beginning to make her tired. Lo’ak, Spider, sit her up so I can bandage her for the night,” Grandmother was right. Ä’amai felt her eyes get heavier by the minute. She felt herself being handled into a sitting position and the feeling of soft bandages getting wrapped around her before she was back down. 

Ä’amai heard the soft shuffling before Lo’ak said, “See you later, Mai. We’re gonna go now,” the shuffling continued getting quieter until it was gone. 

“Teyam?” she called.

“I am here,” her twin said from beside her. 

“Yes, and here you will stay. Rest up, you two,” Neteyam lay on the soft blanket next to her, “Either me or your parents will bring dinner later.” As she was cleaning the tent, the older woman hesitated, grabbing Ä’amai’s tired attention, “I am aware you both have patrol with your parents tomorrow. I’m sorry to say Ä’amai may not go.”

“Then I will stay with her,” Neteyam began.

“No, Neteyam, you should go. I will be fine,” he opened his mouth to argue, “I am too tired for this. You will go.” Ä’amai finished with a tired smile in her twin’s direction. 

“If you’re sure–”

“Yes, I am,” she said firmly. They had been excited for patrol. Just because she had to miss out didn’t mean he had to. 

Neteyam smiled and carefully reached over her to take hold of her kuru and connect it to his own. To any other Na’vi, the action would’ve been odd, but the twins were always a little special. This was the way they had slept since the day they were born. 

“Sleep well, children,” Ä’amai felt the soft weight of a blanket fall over her and the quiet noise of her grandmother leaving the room. Neteyam scooted closer to his twin so her head lay on her shoulder. Them being the same height, he had to do an odd sideways, then upwards shuffle, but either way, it was sweet. 

Ä’amai hadn’t even noticed she’d fallen asleep until her mother woke her up. The gentle petting on the side of her face came from her mom’s slender fingers. Out of instinct, Ä’amai tried to sit up, but the pain and dizziness that erupted forced her back down. 

“Be careful now,” her mother’s voice said. 

Her head was still spinning from sitting up too fast, so she groaned in response.

“Mother?” Neteyam called from beside her. 

“Yes, son, I am here,” Mother replied, “Ä’amai, ma’yawne, are you awake?”

“Hnngh,” was all she could muster. 

“Damn,” her father (who apparently was also there) laughed, “what did your grandmother give you girl?”

Once again, slender yet rough hands that could only belong to her mother helped her sit up slowly. There was no dizziness this time– thankfully, 

“Mother must have made the medicine stronger for her,” her mother said while laughing, “Alright, Mai, are you with us now?”  

Ä’amai blinked, her vision clearing. The glow of the tent’s hearth illuminated her mother, brother, and father. A few more blinks, and she nodded in response,

“Very good. Your grandmother wanted us to bring you two something to eat.” Mother set the bowls down, then reached over and pecked their foreheads, “Come home when you are ready.”

With that, Mother and Father left the Tsahik’s tent. 

Ä’amai looked at the bowl before her, and with tired arms, she slowly reached forward and picked up the dish. With the first sip, Ä’amai’s body was filled with a familiar warmth. The broth was savory, slightly salty, and tasted vaguely earthy. Yes– their grandmother used to make the soup for the twins on their worst days. The days they were so sick, they could hardly move. They hadn’t been that sick in years, and back then, Grandmother would spoon feed now. Now, Ä’amai brought the bowl to her mouth with shaky hands. 

No matter, the memories were still there,

“Hmm,” she hummed in content. The more the girl ate, the more strength she felt– Grandmother wasn’t Tsahik for nothing. 

Ä’amai and Neteyam ate their meals in silence, but that was alright. It’s not like it was awkward. It was never with the twins; they could sit silently for hours. The action never got old. They were practically the same person. At least, that’s how they saw it, 

“Are you excited for patrol tomorrow, Teyam?”

He swallowed what was in his mouth before answering, “It will not be the same without you, Mai.”

Ä’amai turned with a blank expression plastered on her face, “That is not what I asked.”

Neteyam’s face flushed a light shade of lavender, and he rolled his eyes, “ Yes , I am excited,” he said, “how about you? Are you looking forward to the day that awaits?” Neteyam took her empty bowl from her hands and stacked it atop his own, leaving his twin to her confusion. If she had eyebrows, she’d sure one would be sticking up (she’d seen her father make the silly expression when he was questioning things).

“Excited for what, ma’tsmukan?”

The boy gave an uncharacteristic snort, “To look after our skxawng siblings, of course!”

“Bah!” Ä’amai pushed his shoulder, “That is a daily task!”

“Yes, but, no doubt, they will try to pull something without mother and father there to supervise. Remember that one time when they went on that hunting trip with the other clan leaders? We were in charge of the kids, and before we knew it– Lo’ak was hanging off a mountain?” Neteyam shook his head, laughing softly at the memory, “We can’t take our eyes off them for a second, and you know they will not listen, no matter what you say.” 

Ä’amai knew that, of course. It had been the song of their lives ever since she could remember. Their siblings saw them as sticks in the mud half the time, but they were only ever trying to keep them safe. Telling the younger kids what to do eventually got old, so the twins knew the only solution was to watch and step in when needed, 

“Agh, I know. I will just follow to make sure they do not get themselves too roughed up,” she groaned and let her face fall to her hands, “do not remind me.”

She heard Neteyam laugh at her and felt a familiar weight drape over her back. The twins stayed in the somewhat awkward position until the Neteyam decided to pull back,

“Let’s try to get home, yeah?” he asked.

Ä’amai let out a heavy yawn, “Alright,” another yawn escaped, “ Eywa , what did Grandmother give me?”

“I don’t know, ma’tsmuke, but,” he grabbed her from under her arms to help her up, “let’s go before you pass out again.” Ä’amai now stood, but they ended up in a pretty unusual position. For starters, they were both drowsy (one more so than the other), so they came to be leaning on one another,

“Hmph,” Ä’amai grunted, “can we walk like this?”

“Of course we can. Ready?”

“When am I not?” 

With steady minds, the twins took it one step at a time, trying not to fall over. Ä’amai was sure they resembled a newborn pa’li attempting to walk straight after birth. The eyes of the other clan members followed them, likely just ensuring they were alright. Either way, the twins were focused on their destination.

“So,” Ä’amai said through heavy pants, “did Grandmother say anything about these bandages?”

“Well,” Neteyam grunted, “she said they were ‘for the night,’ so maybe she will remove them tomorrow.”

“Hmm, alright.”

Eventually, Neteyam and Ä’amai made it to the family tent, where their parents and siblings (including Spider) sat around the hearth— nights in the rainforest usually had a slight chill, so the small fire was always lovely. 

Lo’ak snorted from across the fire, “Did you guys walk over here like that?” He asked, referring to their pa’li gait. Kiri smacked the back of his head for his insensitivity. 

“Yup,” they responded and stumbled to their respective hammock. 

“Tired again?” Mother asked. The twins nodded, “Well, at least it is night, and you will get a good rest. Sleep well, my children.”

“Sweet dreams, kiddos,” their father said, “Oh, and Neteyam, remember we’re going on patrol. Be ready, ‘kay?” 

“Yes sir,” Neteyam responded, helping Ä’amai into the hammock, where she instantly curled into her side. 

The injured warrior yawned, “Goodnight,” she said to the room, and a chorus of goodnights followed. She motioned for her brother to join her. 

Neteyam formed the usual bond with his sister and crawled in the hammock. They both lay curled on their sides as Ä’amai’s mind silenced itself. With that, the two drifted into a deep sleep.

Chapter Text

The following morning was rather hectic. It began with Grandmother in her face. It had startled the sleeping twins, but she only wanted to remove her granddaughter’s bandages. Apparently, they were only there as an extra layer of protection to make sure they didn’t rip while she slept. It worked; the stitches were intact, but they still could not be taken out. At least she was free to move, though. 

The rest of the morning was hectic because, well, that was just a usual morning for the family of seven. Mother, Father, and Neteyam were getting ready for patrol, and Ä’amai was assisting her brother with packing his ikran. She handed Neteyam his bow and visor and gave him a goodbye hug. It wasn’t like they’d be gone forever, just, the twins don’t really spend time apart. 

However, right before they all left, her father pulled Ä’amai aside,

“Alright, girl, listen to me now,” Father put an arm on her shoulder, “I want you to take it easy, but I also need you to–”

“Keep an eye on my siblings,” she finished for him. He had given her and Neteyam that spiel since they were children. She practically knew it by heart. 

“That’s right, girl, good job,” he ruffled Ä’amai’s braids and straightened out her necklace with care. 

‘Girl’ had been Ä’amai’s nickname for a while now. Kinda like Lo’ak and Neteyam were– ‘Boy.’ She used to be babydoll, baby, sweetie, sweet girl– you know –anything remotely affectionate. Now she was– ‘Girl’ . 

Kiri was still ‘babygirl’. 

Ä’amai wasn’t jealous. 

She wasn’t , seriously. How pathetic would it be if she got jealous of her little sister?

“Thank you, sir,” then again, a smaller version of Ä’amai would have never dreamed of calling her father ‘sir.’

Her father patted her head again, Ä’amai said goodbye to her mother, and the three were off. She and the remaining siblings watched them fly out the mouth of the cave, waving goodbye. 

“Mai! Mai!” Tuk said, pulling at her tail rather roughly. 

“Tuk, remember, pulling tails is very rude. It is not how you grab someone’s attention,” she said, crouching to her sister’s height.

“I’m sorry, can I ask you a question?” Tuk said, perking up rather quickly. 

Ä’amai laughed, “You just did.”

“Mai!” Tuk whined. 

“Alright, alright, go ahead,” she motioned to her sister to go on. 

“Can I go with Kiri and Spider to the lab? Please?” Tuk dragged out the noise to emphasize what she wanted. 

“Of course you can, baby,” she stood up, “just be careful and listen to the humans, okay?” 

“Okay! Thank you, big sister!” Tuk hugged her legs and ran off. 

Ah, bless her baby sister. Half the time, the little girl was the only reason the twins knew where the others were. 

Ä’amai watched her sister run off and then scanned the cave for Lo’ak. She had been meaning to speak with him. He wasn’t in the tent or with Grandmother, but Ä’amai knew where to look. 

Above the tents, in the cave walls, there were small openings leading to smaller caves. One in particular, Lo’ak, liked to hide away in. The one her little brother preferred had a ledge on the outside, was midsize, and lit up by bioluminescent moss. According to Lo’ak, the cave was his place to think– to be alone. The twins discovered their brother’s hiding place by accident, and Lo’ak made them vow to keep it a secret. So they did. Not even their father knew. 

When she finished scaling the walls, Ä’amai sat on the platform in front of the entrance and knocked on the rock,

“Lo’ak,” she sang her brother’s name. 

“What do you want,” came his echoed voice from inside. 

“Can I come in?”

“Go away, Ä’amai.” 

Ah, so that’s how it was going to be, 

“No, I think I’ll sit here, don’t wanna rip my stitches climbing down,” she played up the dramatics, “ Oh, the pain .”

“You’re such a liar,” he was right. Ä’amai felt fine. All the pain from the previous day was forgotten. She wasn’t worried about ripping her stitches either. She even wore a looser top to ensure they wouldn’t break apart. 

“Maybe I am, but can’t a sister just sit with her baby brother?”

Lo’ak didn’t respond at first, “Fine,” he said eventually. 

So, Ä’amai sat outside the small opening. She wanted to say something– comfort him –but she knew Lo’ak wouldn’t respond well. He would accuse her of babying him. So, instead, she brainstormed different ways to help him feel better. First things first, she had to get in there. 

A flame ignited in her, and suddenly, she knew exactly what to do. 

Ä’amai began to hum a tune that was familiar to her and Lo’ak. It was a human song from an old film they had seen long ago. Ä’amai had sung the song to her baby brother since they first saw the movie. Although it had been quite some time– she’d hoped it would still have the same effect. The song was their something special. As Ä’amai hummed the little tune, she heard a sigh from within the cave. She decided to turn the soft hums into lyrics, 

“... I will protect you from all around you 

I will be here, don’t you cry…”

Alright, it was time to try her luck, Ä’amai crawled in. Lo’ak had his back on the cave wall but didn’t look at her. 

“For one so small, you seem so strong 

This bond between us can’t be broken,”

She gently grabbed his face and smiled at him, 

“I will be here, don’t you cry,”

Lo’ak gave in and crumpled in her hold. Ä’amai took advantage and took the boy into her lap. She cradled his head on her shoulder, cupping it with one hand. 

“Cause you’ll be in my heart 

Yes, you’ll be in my heart,”

She ended the song on a lower note and just sat there, holding her baby brother. Lo’ak breathed into her shoulder, 

“I’m sorry,” his muffled voice said.

“Shh, you have nothing to be sorry for,” it wasn’t Lo’ak’s fault Ä’amai got blown up. She was the one who pushed herself closer to the explosion. She could have tackled Lo’ak and escaped the epicenter with him, but she didn’t. If she had, her accident wouldn’t have happened. So, no, it wasn’t Lo’ak’s fault. 

It had been so long since Ä’amai had held Lo’ak in this manner. She knew she missed it, but did he? Things had gotten so complicated since the sky people returned– no wait –since the twins completed their iknimayas. Ä’amai didn’t know what set him off, but things just… changed . 

However, that was in the past– at the moment, Ä’amai would cherish this moment of peace between her and her baby brother. She would revel in the silence and hold him close for as long as she could. 

“You want to tell me what’s going on?” Ä’amai broke the silence.

“Not really,” Lo’ak said into her shoulder. 

“Alright,” she knew she wouldn’t get a clear response, so she thought about her following words carefully, “then,” don’t mess this up, “do you want to tell me what I can do?”

The young boy hesitated before finally saying, 

“Trust me.”

Trust him? Ä’amai wasn’t really sure what that meant. She already trusted her brother. I mean, why wouldn’t she? However, the way Lo’ak said the phrase in such a small voice provided no other explanation– she knew this was important to him. The problem was, since she still didn’t understand the issue, she wasn’t quite sure how to resolve it. 

“Okay,” she said anyhow, “how about this? Today, you can be the squad leader.” 

Honestly, it was the first thing that popped in her head. In Ä’amai’s mind, Lo’ak was just tired of following orders. Maybe a run through the trees would clear his mind? Besides, the children often go through the forest in the mountains when they have the time. They all knew the dos and don’ts of the land. 

Her brother perked at her words and untangled himself from his sister’s hold. The boy now sat before her, no longer wallowing in self-pity but excited. His ears stood at attention, his eyes wide, 

“What do you mean?” Lo’ak’s right ear twitched out of anticipation. 

“Today, we can go exploring around the mountains, but ,” Ä’amai hesitated, rethinking what she had said, “you will lead us. You will tell us where to go, and I will not interfere. I will follow you, and I will trust that you will make the right— smart decisions.”

The look on Lo’ak’s face was enough to somewhat calm her anxiety. Even his little tail was swinging back and forth. How cute was that?

“Really?”

“Yes,” she nodded. 

Lo’ak immediately moved to crawl out of the small space before turning back to her,

“What are we waiting for then? Let’s go get the others!” Lo’ak grabbed his sister’s arm, who smiled at seeing him so happy. 

Quickly, the two scaled down the cave walls and ran to their siblings. They were in the lab like Tuk said they’d be. The little girl was talking a human female’s ear off. Ä’amai had likely met the woman before, but for the life of her, she couldn’t recall the lady’s name. Then, Spider and Kiri were with Grace. They sat beside the avatar’s tank, talking about who knows what. Lo’ak pushed his way to Kiri and Spider excitedly,

“Guys, come on, get up! Let’s go outside,” he urged them. 

Kiri rolled her eyes and did not move, “What’s with the sudden rush to leave? I thought you were busy sulking.”

Lo’ak blushed, “Tch, I wasn’t sulking. Now come on, let’s go!”

Spider got up, wanting to explore, and urged Kiri to stand. The messy-haired girl stretched her long limbs, 

“Hmm, and what does Ä’amai have to say about this?”

“It was her idea, and she said I could be in charge.”

Alright, Ä’amai was beginning to rethink some of her decisions, but she couldn’t go back on her word now. She would just have to keep a close eye. 

A very close one.

“Really?” Kiri skeptically said and tilted her head to Ä’amai.

“Well, it’s just the mountains. We will be fine,” Ä’amai said, not knowing if she was reassuring her sister or herself. 

“Ooh! You guys are going outside? I wanna come,” came little Tuk’s voice.

Lo’ak rolled his head back in annoyance, “No, Tuk, this is just for the older kids.”

“But I wanna come!” Tuk stamped her foot. 

“ No , you can’t keep up!”

“ Yes, I can!” 

“Tuk, you have to stay here. You’re just gonna be in the way,” Lo’ak stood his ground. 

Little did Lo’ak know Tuk had a secret weapon.

Yeah, Tuk threatened to tell Mother, so they brought her along. Now, Lo’ak, her, Kiri, Spider, and little Tuk were walking along the roots that held the mountains together. 

Crossing the land bridges between the floating pieces of rock was always fun. She and Neteyam would sit on them and watch the sun go down when they had the time. After a while, Ä’amai let her mind go blank. Lo’ak seemed to follow their usual paths and was doing very well. However, she made to stay in the back with her bow– you know –just in case. 

Alright, letting her mind go blank was a big mistake. When she finally took in her surroundings, Ä’amai knew where Lo’ak was taking them. Their father would kill them if he found out. 

Just breathe , she repeated the calming mantra in her mind. Ä’amai promised Lo’ak. 

They’d be fine. 

Right?

The forests on the surface of the mountains were just as beautiful as the ones on the mainland. Being in the terrain reminded Ä’amai of her childhood— a simpler time before the sky people returned.

As they ran along the bushes and trees, Tuk kept falling behind, and Lo’ak wasn’t silent about his annoyance either. 

“Bro, why’d you bring her anyway?” Spider asked. 

“She’s such a crybaby,” Lo’ak responded. Oh, please don’t start , “She’s all, ‘I’m telling. You’re not supposed to go to the battlefield. I’ll tell Mom if you don’t let me come’,” he said in a voice that mocked Tuk’s. 

The little girl paid him back by sticking out her tongue. 

“Hey, hey, let’s just keep going,” Ä’amai tried to urge them on without hearing a fight break out. Lo’ak rolled his eyes and motioned for the group to keep going. 

The group went on, but Ä’amai strayed behind still, mainly to ensure that Tuk did keep up,

“Come on, Tuk, we have to stay together. Go on now.”

“Okay, Mai,” she ran off to join her siblings. Ä’amai followed, and when she finally caught up to them all, a feeling of dread overcame her. 

Tangled in the vines, a long abandoned sky person ship lay frozen in time. Moss grew on the ship's sides as nature began to take over the foreign object. 

Oh, they really weren’t supposed to be there, but of course, they were. Lo’ak, Spider, and Tuk had climbed up there, playing with it. Not too bad– okay, she spoke too soon. Spider climbed inside. Of course, he did. Why wouldn’t he?

Wait, hold on; there were only three of them. Where did Kiri go?

Shit , the one time she tries to give her siblings some leeway, and this happens. Never again .

“Lo’ak!” Ä’amai called up, “Maybe we should head back now,” she called up to the trees. 

“Yeah, sure, we’ll do that,” Lo’ak brushed her off. Yeah, there was no way he heard what she said, and if she did hear her, he chose not to listen. 

Ä’amai let out a slight noise out of irritation. She even felt her tail twitching slightly. Now, na’vi hardly ever went gray until they were well into their years, but she and Neteyam would swear these kids would give them the silver streaks at only fifteen years.

The warrior went up the tree as Spider climbed down, she gave him a quick nod of thanks, 

“Lo’ak, come on, it’s almost eclipse,” the boy looked to the sky and realized she was right. 

“Fine,” he said curtly.

“Good, let’s go find Kiri.”

The three ended up finding Kiri sitting in a clearing with Spider,

“Oh, you found her,” Lo’ak said, “uh, come on, we’re going back.”

With quickness, the five children ran along the branches and did not stray from their path. Mother and Father would be home soon, and none of them felt like getting lectured. Still, though, Ä’amai kept a close watch on them. She noticed Lo’ak jump off the path with Spider following. Curious, they stopped to scan something on the ground— Ä’amai also jumped off. Her eyes widened at what she saw, 

“What is it?” Kiri asked.

“A footprint,” Ä’amai got close to the ground, “but it was made by boot. Recently too,” she observed, sliding her fingers along the deep print. 

“It’s way too big for a human, though,” Lo’ak added. 

Ä’amai nodded, scanning the area for other hints. When she saw none, she began stalking the area, staying close to the ground. The way Mother taught her. From behind, the others kept talking, attempting to solve the mystery. It wasn’t much of a mystery, though– it was obvious that an avatar left the print. It couldn’t have been any of theirs, though. The humans had left their avatars to rest today. 

The situation could only mean that the sky people now had avatars. 

This meant danger . 

They had to fall back now .

From her place on the ground, she saw Lo’ak walk past her, claiming he was tracking. It was time for big sister to step in, 

“Lo’ak, we need to go now. This is not good,” she said, using a stern voice to show her brother that she was serious. Now was not a time for games. She would not play with her siblings’ lives.

“We’ll go right now. Hold up,” Lo’ak kept walking past her, with the rest following behind. 

“ Shit, ” Ä’amai said under her breath. 

The trees, Ä’amai would watch from there. If anything were to happen, they would make a quick escape. According to her father, the sky people’s avatars lacked the ability to scale the the extensive flora with the same agility that the na’vi could. So, if worse came to worse, she’d just yank the kids up there with her. Her plan was risky, and it definitely wasn’t foolproof, but if her siblings weren’t going to listen– it was her best shot. 

Ä’amai followed them from above, with the stealth her mother instilled into her. She kept her bow ready, and if it came down to taking the life of a dream walker, she wouldn’t hesitate. The four kids paused in some tall grass. Ä’amai also paused, using the thick trunk to shield herself from view. She took a quick look, and her heart plummeted. 

They were by a shack, similar to the ones the humans would use when going into the forest for an extended time. The thing was, this wasn’t just any shack. No, this was the shack . The one where Mother killed Spider’s father (the man responsible for so much destruction). Her father had almost died there, and currently, avatars in full tactical gear roamed the grounds. They were in deep shit. 

Fuck.

Seeing this, Ä’amai was ready to yank the kids up one by one and order them to run, but when she moved, they weren’t there. Lo’ak was moving them forward. What was he trying to accomplish? Staying in the trees, Ä’amai stalked forward as well. She considered going down there but didn’t want to risk the avatars hearing them. Still, she couldn’t not do anything. She clicked her communicator on,

“Eagle Eye, fall back now . This is bigger than us,” she said in a stern whisper. 

“Hold up, I’m gonna call this in,” he said, waving her off for a third time that day. Her brother was getting on her nerves. She entrusts him to make smart decisions for a single day, and he chooses to do this . Ä’amai wanted to drag her brother back to High Camp by the tail. The comm cut off, and she watched the skxawng presumably call Father. 

Lo’ak was so dead, scratch that, Ä’amai was so dead. Maybe they both were, but she knew she would get the brunt of their father’s anger. 

Father asked her to rest, but he also asked her to keep an eye on her siblings. How could he expect her to do both? An impossible task, really. 

Assumingly, the call ended, and the kids promptly sped out of there. Hadn’t Ä’amai just said to leave? What did Lo’ak think their father was going to tell them? To fight? Skxawng .

No matter, Ä’amai continued to follow her siblings, her worry growing. As silently as they were trying to move, they were rustling the grass too much for her liking. It made her clutch her bow tighter, and her eyes never strayed from the kids. 

That was her mistake. Ä’amai wasn’t used to only having one set of eyes, especially under such dire circumstances. She and Neteyam moved as one, so they always had two sets of eyes acting like one. 

An avatar jumped out of the bushes that surrounded them and grabbed Tuk. 

It grabbed Tuk . 

Ä’amai bared her bow when Lo’ak and Spider did, but she couldn’t shoot yet. This was just one avatar. There were multiple that hadn’t shown themselves yet. Shooting now could make the situation worse, and she was right. Quickly, the others came out of the bushes, guns blazing, pointing right at the kids. 

Come on, Ä’amai, think, she thought. There had to be a way out of this. 

The soldiers order Spider and Lo’ak to drop their bows. Lo’ak listened and then got Spider to listen. Good, who knows what could’ve happened if they remained stubborn? Unfortunately, the avatars immediately moved to grab the kids by their kurus (Spider by his hair). 

Ä’amai moved her bow back and forth. She didn’t know who to aim at. More importantly, Ä’amai didn’t know what to do. That hadn’t happened since she was a kid, barely learning to hunt. No matter how often she played the situation out in her head, the outcome was never good. The avatars had ARs, and they didn’t even have their ikran. Even if she threw herself in the line of fire, the dream walkers weren’t dumb. They’d take her down and then get the others mid-run. 

Ä’amai couldn’t hear anything but her heart pounding as the soldiers examined Lo’ak and Kiri. The leader of the group pulled a knife on Lo’ak, and Ä’amai felt her heart drop. His attention turned to Kiri, then to Spider, and Ä’amai still couldn’t figure out an appropriate plan. She wished Neteyam was here with her. Even if they’d still feel clueless, he’d at least be there. The warrior stayed as calm as possible and aimed her bow at the man speaking to Spider. Spider appeared to be angry as the avatar called him by his given name, ‘Miles.’ No one called him that. 

Why would the avatar even know his name? That voice that came out of the avatar’s mouth awfully sounded familiar. Like Ä’amai had heard it before, maybe… but it couldn’t be. Their mother had exterminated the demon long ago.

The man walked over to Tuk after finishing his conversation with the human boy,

“You his too?” He asked plainly. The girl whimpered in response. 

Her little sister was scared, they were all scared, and here Ä’amai was– not even sure what to do. Come on , she was a warrior. How could she not know?

From behind her, Ä’amai heard the rustling of branches. She quickly turned to look, but when she did, it was too late. Another avatar lunged at her before she could even think, bringing her to the forest floor. He shoved her roughly to her stomach, pushing her face into the dirt and putting her hands behind her back. Ä’amai heard her siblings' sounds of protest as she was taken down, 

“I wouldn’t question it, Colonel. They’re all his,” the dream walker said. He grabbed Ä’amai’s tswin and jerked her up into a constrained sitting position, “Look at this one. Saw her lurking in the trees. Had her bow pointed right at ya’.”

Ä’amai saw the twisted man give an unsettling smirk as he approached her. He crouched just enough and caressed the side of Ä’amai’s face in a way that made her skin crawl. 

“Yup, looks just like her bitch of a mother.” Ä’amai frowned, a low noise coming from her throat. How dare he talk about her mother like that, “You’re theirs, alright,” his hand trailed down to the shoulder straps of her top, “You’d be quite the catch too if you weren’t a tree-hugging alien.” 

The man played with the beads on the strap, twisting them. The way the man stood above her, forcing Ä’amai to crane her neck to look at him, made her feel weak,

“Aye, Colonel, would you let your daughter walk around like this?” The avatar holding her said. He took his arm off her tswin and used it to shake her top. Ä’amai felt her face heat up in embarrassment. When she tried to turn her head to look the man in the eye, he grabbed her kuru’s base and forced her to face upwards again, “Nuh uh, eyes up, missy.”

“Stand down, soldier, we ain’t doing all that,” Ä’amai glared, her face still warm, “oh, calm down, princess, we’re not gonna hurt’cha. We’re not that evil, right soldiers?” 

“Yes, sir,” the chorus of avatars responded. 

The unknown leader pet her braids one last time before standing and activating his comm.

The feeling of embarrassment still lingered in Ä’amai. She knew what the men were insinuating. On more than one occasion, Ä’amai and Neteyam had walked into the lab when the humans were watching some rather unsavory film scenes. She had overheard the stories of what some of the scientists, specifically the women, had experienced back on Earth. She knew what sky people males were capable of.

On the comm, the avatar called in his support, giving the group the title ‘high-value prisoners.’ So that was the plan: use them to draw in Father. What a cowardly plan to kidnap someone’s children. Roughly, the recoms forced the kids and herself to walk back to the clearing by the old shack,

“Lyle, get me some audio on this,” the leader said. 

The one called Lyle moved to grab the tablet and began fidgeting with the device. As they were shoved to the ground once more, Spider was the only one who remained unrestrained (other than the handcuffs, of course). Ä’amai was the only one not to have the orange bands around her wrists. Instead, she had the avatar tightly holding her hands behind her back. Honestly, it was beginning to hurt. 

Lo’ak had called their father a while ago. He should be here soon. Ä’amai needed to find a way to break free and get to her bow. But how? She didn’t know, but she was going to try. For now, Ä’amai needed to stop pondering what she couldn’t do and instead focus on what she could do. What she could do was listen, so she listened to the forest in the way she had been taught so long ago. 

Yip .

There it was. Ä’amai turned her head only for the avatar to grab her chin and force her head forward again. 

“Hey princess, what are you hearing now?” He said. Ä’amai didn’t respond. Could he not hear it? Wow, these avatars were pathetic. 

Yip , she heard it a bit louder now. 

There was no mistaking the call— it was Mother. With the soldier holding her head, Ä’amai couldn’t see if her siblings heard the call, too. She just had to assume they did.

Kiri began to chant, much to the annoyance of the dream walker containing her. Ä’amai heard the man tell her to be quiet, but Kiri did not listen. Her younger sister continued the chants, and the avatar only grew more irritated, 

“Shut up,” were the last words the filthy dreamwalker would ever say. The sound of an arrow cutting through the ear graced Ä’amai’s ears. What followed was a sound she’d heard many times before— an arrow hitting its target. 

Then, all hell broke loose, gunshots fired into the air, hitting trees and rocks. Through the chaos, Ä’amai heard Mother shout,

“Lo’ak! Ä’amai!”

Well, it was or never.

The avatar holding her had made the mistake of slightly loosening his grip when the fight broke out. So, she used the only weapon at her disposal– Ä’amai bit him. It was a childish move, but it worked. The bite made him curse her out and loosen his grip further, which gave her an opening. Ä’amai used it to unravel her arms and elbow him in the stomach, causing him to double over. She used this to her advantage and quickly unsheathed her knife. The warrior jumped on the man, stabbing him near his collarbone, 

“You bitch–” Ä’amai didn’t let him finish as she brought the blunt side of her knife to the side of his head, promptly knocking him out. 

Everything was happening so fast, but Ä’amai knew how to keep up. Looking around, she saw Lo’ak take Tuk with him. Spider also escaped, holding Kiri by the arm until an avatar grabbed the young girl’s braid, pulling her back. 

“Kiri!” Ä’amai shouted, bracing to tackle the avatar, knife in hand. 

There was no need, though, as Mother’s arrow shot the dream walker dead. Spider took Kiri and bolted before anything else could happen. Good, the kids were out of harm’s way (for the most part. Alright, it's time to take care of herself. With the recoms distracted, Ä’amai needed to get her bow. From what she could remember, the weapon was hanging on the tree she had been taken down from. Ä’amai scaled the trees and found her bow precisely where she remembered. She notched an arrow from the holster attached to the bow itself. Thankfully, they hadn’t fallen out. 

Now, it was time to find Neteyam (if their parents had even brought him). In her search, however, she found her mother instead. The woman appeared to be talking, and as much as Ä’amai wanted to run up to her mother, she knew it wasn’t smart. She looked back and forth and saw what she feared— a recom pointing a gun at Mother. Just as she was going to let her arrow fly, though, another arrow beat her to it. She moved the bush beside her and found her twin.

“Neteyam,” she breathed out.

“Ä’amai,” he came up and lightly embraced her. Neteyam let out a relieved laugh as he let go. He pointed to the body, 

“Timber,” Neteyam said, trying to break the tension. 

Ä’amai laughed and touched their foreheads. However, from her peripheral vision, she saw something approaching. All she registered was tactical gear and a gun. A gun pointed right at— 

“Neteyam!” Ä’amai let her arrow cut through the air, and down went the dream walker, “Timber,” she repeated her brother’s lighthearted phrase. Before Neteyam could get a word in, though, Ä’amai heard a shout from behind her,

“Na’vi!” 

Neteyam notched his bow but never shot it as the two were tackled to the ground. It was their father, 

“Go, go, go!” Father shouted as bullets flew and the twins scrabbled to their feet. They made it behind a tree trunk, “You okay,” he asked, “you two okay?” 

“Yeah,” they said together. 

Father nodded, “Okay, with me. Ready? Ready?”

“Yes, sir!” They responded with earnest. 

Father jumped out from behind the tree and fired his gun immediately, creating a cover for them to run. So, with agility on par with their mother’s, they followed Father up and down the forest. Any doubt that Ä’amai previously had in her body disappeared as she ran to avoid bullets. Honestly, it was terrifying, but she couldn’t afford to think that way. Bullets were flying, but that didn’t matter. Ä’amai would keep her gaze forward— she’d keep running. 

“Hey,” their father barked as things got more stable, “I’m pretty sure I hear Lo’ak and Tuk behind here.” Father referred to the brush beside them, “We’re gonna jump out here, alright?” He motioned to their right, and the twins nodded. Their father jumped first, and they followed, meeting Lo’ak and Tuk in the clearing. 

They seemed a little shaken up, but otherwise, they were okay. Just to be safe, though, Father checked them over. Tuk kept mumbling little whimpers as their father comforted her. Ä’amai looked at Lo’ak with a silent question hidden in her gaze,

Are you okay?

Lo’ak made no indication that he understood the question. He merely held her gaze for a second and looked away. Ä’amai felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Neteyam’s. Looking towards him, she saw his gaze also lingered on their little brother. Neteyam realized she was facing him and met her eye. When he did, her twin pulled her into a tight hug. The twins held each other as if the other would disappear the moment they let go. In their embrace, they looked to the sky and watched the demon ship leave. 

“Okay, we’re clear,” Father announced. 

Immediately, Tuk ran to Mother and Kiri while the twins fell right into their father’s chest.

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” he said, gently putting his face on their heads, “we’re okay.”

The twins melted into their father’s embrace, letting themselves be held and welcoming the comfort he brought. Slowly, they were coming to terms with what had just happened— they nearly lost their lives— multiple times. When the man let them go, the twins slung an arm around each other just to ground themselves.

Kiri was crying for Spider. Ä’amai didn’t understand why until she looked around and didn’t see the boy. Her heart sank as she realized that the dream walkers must have taken him, and all their father could say was that it would be okay. 

Ä’amai could only hope he was right.

Chapter Text

There was no speaking on the ride back to High Camp. Ä’amai rode with Neteyam, draping herself on his back, wanting to stay close. She wasn’t the only one. Even though Neteyam was focused on riding, he still spared a hand to hold hers. When they returned, the twins watched the others go off to the family’s home, but the two straggled behind. After caring for Neteyam’s ikran, they moved to sit on the cave’s edge and observed the stars. 

For the next couple of minutes, Neteyam and Ä’amai sat there, leaning on one another,

“I should have stayed with you,” Neteyam whispered. 

“It wouldn’t have changed a thing; we still would have followed the kids, and we still would have been outnumbered,” Ä’amai reassured. 

Neteyam sighed annoyedly, “Sure, but at least I would’ve been there ,” he held her closer, “with you.” He bit his lip, “It’s just, I can’t—” Neteyam made a noise as if the air had been forcibly taken from him, “I can’t lose you, Mai.”

Ä’amai dug her face into her brother’s neck, “You never will, Teyam. Besides,” she took a deep breath and looked at his face. Her brother’s expression was worried, and small tears began to form in the corners of his eyes, “I can’t lose you either.” 

Ä’amai again faced the stars, trying to hold her tears at bay. She doesn’t know what she’d do if she ever lost him; he was her lifeline, and she was his. 

“And you will never lose me. I’ll always be by your side.” Neteyam breathed. 

“You better. If you ever die on me, I will drag you back from Ewya myself.” Ä’amai attempted to lighten the mood. 

Neteyam chuckled, “I know. I know because I’d do the same to you.”  

The twins enjoyed each other’s presence for a bit longer, staying close enough to hear the other breathe. They stayed like that until footsteps approached from behind. 

“Hey,” their father’s voice stood out in the silence, “what’re you two still doing here? It’s late. You’ve been through a lot. Go to bed.” 

“Sorry, sir, we’re just looking at the stars,” Neteyam said, not facing the man. 

“Aren’t they lovely tonight?” Ä’amai added, trying to avoid a lecture she was so sure was coming. 

“Yeah, I guess they’re pretty bright tonight. Stargazing, huh?” Maybe there was no lecture. Perhaps he was just concerned, “Out-fucking-standing,” or maybe not. 

Now, she recognized it. Wow, he hadn’t been this mad in a while. The tone her father was using was simply the calm before the storm. So, the lecture truly was inescapable. 

“Turn around,” he said through gritted teeth. Quickly, the twins obeyed, “Stand up. Go, on your feet.” 

As they scrambled to a standing position, Father got closer. Her father loomed over them, and he looked directly at his daughter. 

“What the hell were you thinking?” He asked, Ä’amai stayed silent, “No answer? Alright, maybe you didn’t hear me– I said, what the hell were you thinking?”

“I—” she began. 

“Never mind, I don’t even wanna hear it. I ask you to do two things, okay? Two! Take it easy and watch the kids. I didn’t think it’d be so goddamn hard.”

Ä’amai’s ears were pinned to the sides of her skull. Her father had lectured her many times, but this time felt different. The girl couldn’t help but feel frightened, and she was sure her face reflected that. That had never happened before. Ä’amai always managed to conceal her emotions during times like these, but it was different this time. Father was different this time. 

“ Jesus , I know the kids are tough. I understand that they’re stubborn as shit— especially Lo’ak, alright, I get it ,” he pinched the bridge of his nose, “but you gotta put your foot down. You know where you’re not supposed to be, okay? Drag him by his goddamn ears if you have to.”

“Yes sir,” was all Ä’amai could say. 

“Good. Now you,” Father switched his unruly gaze to Neteyam. Immediately, he shrank down and made an expression similar to the one she had been making moments ago, “I told you to stay by the ikran, yet you didn’t. You almost got shot, okay? You gotta listen, boy— you both do.” An exasperated sigh escaped the man before he continued, “You both wanna be warriors, and by all accounts, you are, but you gotta act like it. Be responsible, got it?” 

“Yes, sir,” they said in unison.

Their father nodded, “Alright, good.” Now that he had finished chewing them out the father looked anywhere but them, “Go to bed. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

There was more? Ä’amai thought to herself.

The twins nodded and trudged back to the tent, leaving their father by the mouth of the cave. When they entered the family home, they noticed their siblings sleeping soundly in their hammocks and their mother sitting on the floor. Mother greeted them with a warm smile and then stood to hug them. Tired, Ä’amai leaned into the embrace and let her chin fall on Mother’s shoulder.

“Your father means well, believe me.” She told them softly, “Get some rest, Ma’Mai, Ma’Teyam. You will feel better in the morning.”

As much as Ä’amai wished to remain in the warm hold of her mother, the woman let go. Begrudgingly, the twins headed to their shared sleeping space and drifted off. 

The next morning, the twins did something they hadn’t done since they were seven— they slept in. Usually, they woke a little after the sun rose. Either with or before their parents, to prep different items for the day. But something about this morning was different. The only one still left in the tent was Lo’ak (which was expected; the boy always woke up a little later). For some reason, Ä’amai felt exhausted, but she had to start her day regardless. Besides, she had no reason to feel this way. She had slept more than enough.  

“Good morning, Neteyam,” she yawned. 

Neteyam stretched his limbs in the limited space they shared, “G’morning Ä’amai.”

Reluctantly, the twins hopped out of the hammock. Ä’amai practically had to drag her limbs. They felt like they weighed more than usual. All she wanted to do was go back to sleep. 

“Should we wake him?” Ä’amai asked, a slight slur to her words as she nodded towards Lo’ak. He was sleeping peacefully in his hammock, one leg off the side and drool dribbling out his mouth. 

“Hmm,” Neteyam thought, “yes.”

They had virtually no reason to wake the peaceful boy, but Ä’amai really wanted to. Call it payback from the previous night. He should just listen to his big sister. 

“I’m gonna flip him.” Ä’amai proclaimed. 

“ Ä’amai, ” Neteyam tried to chastise, but the giggle that slipped through ruined it, “Okay, okay, do it.”

With Neteyam laughing silently, Ä’amai walked over to the sleeping beast, grabbed the bottom of the hammock, and flipped, immediately waking her brother. 

“Ah!” Lo’ak yelped. 

Ä’amai and Neteyam burst out in a fit of laughter, 

“Good morning, baby bro,” Neteyam said, fighting his laughter. 

“Sleep well?” Ä’amai asked, covering her mouth. 

“Agh! Rotten twins!” Lo’ak quickly pounced on his siblings, shocking them off their feet. The three kids fell to the ground, the twins still laughing. 

“So much energy for someone who was just sleeping.” Neteyam chuckled as Lo’ak attempted to wrestle them both. 

“I guess all that sleep has to go somewhere,” Ä’amai added.

“Finally awake, I see,” a voice came from the home's entrance. 

Ä’amai tilted her head back, “Kiri, my sister! Help us, we’re being attacked!” 

“No, thank you,” she put her hands up in surrender, “I will sing your funeral rites instead.” Kiri then turned to walk away, but big sister Ä’amai had a plan, “Have fun—” In the middle of waving them off, Ä’amai dragged her young sister by the ankle. The action made her fall flat on the ground, giving the older girl the advantage. 

She decided to leave the (currently) losing Lo’ak to Neteyam and focused her playful attack on Kiri. Honestly, it was less of a fight and more tickling her sister until she laughed so hard it hurt.

“Mai, stop!” Kiri squealed with laughter.

“Hmm,” Ä’amai paused, still keeping Kiri pinned to the ground with her legs, “no thanks.” She continued her playful advances as her sister simply exploded with laughter. Ä’amai couldn’t help but laugh with her. Seeing Kiri so joyful after all the tears she shed the previous night was nice. 

“Okay, okay!” Kiri continued to say breathlessly, “Mercy! Mercy!” At that, Ä’amai stopped, and Kiri’s laughter slowly died down. As the younger contained herself, she took one look at her attacker and promptly ‘bonked’ her sister on the head, “Skxawng.”

Ä’amai giggled, “Aw, but you love me.”

“Ugh, only sometimes.”

The older put her face in her hands in feigned, over-the-top sadness, “Ah! Cut my heart out, will you? You hurt me, Riri, you really do.” Ä’amai intentionally used the nickname for her sister, knowing she found it embarrassing. 

“I’ll hurt you more. Don’t. Call. Me. That,” Kiri accentuated the words with playful hits to her arms.

“Aw, but it’s so cute! Perfect for my baby— ow!” Ä’amai was smacked on the forehead for even daring to say the word baby when referring to Kiri, “Okay, that was hard,” she complained.

“You can handle it, mighty warrior . I am not a baby,” Kiri continued to hit her arms before deciding to tackle her sister and bring the two to the floor again. It took a moment for Ä’amai to register that she was hugging her, “Better?” Kiri said softly. 

“Much,” Ä’amai sighed as she lay on the floor with Kiri laid out on top of her.

“Ah! Neteyam, please!” Came the muffled cries of Lo’ak.

“Come on, baby bro, say it, and I’ll let you go.”

“Ugh, no! Ack!”

“Oh, come on, you started this,” Neteyam argued, but it wasn’t serious. You could almost hear the smile plastered on her twin’s face.

Ä’amai and Kiri listened to the conflict but paid no mind. 

“ What , I did not! Ä’amai did!” Lo’ak complained. 

“Don’t bring me into this,” she said from her place on the floor. 

“ Don’t bring you into this? You started it!” He shouted. 

“No, I don’t think I did.” Ä’amai closed her eyes, enjoying having Kiri close. 

“Yeah, skxawng, leave her alone.” Kiri nuzzled her head into Ä’amai’s chest. 

“You guys suck — ACK! Okay fine! Mercy, Neteyam, mercy!” He said finally. 

“Alright,” presumably, Neteyam let him go, “was that so hard?” 

“I hate you guys. I was sleeping.” Lo’ak grumbled. 

Kiri peeled herself off her sister and moved to sit in her lap instead, “You’re always sleeping, lazy skxawng.”

Lo’ak stuck his tongue out at Kiri, “You’re the one being cradled like a baby,” he shot back, referring to how Ä’amai’s arms wrapped around the girl. 

“You are just mad that she loves me,” Kiri sneered, “Neteyam too.”

Sensing the teasing opportunities, Neteyam walked over to sit beside his sisters and kissed Kiri’s head. Lo’ak just stuck his tongue out at the three of them in response. Very mature.

“Kiri dear, I told you to wake them up,” Ä’amai looked at the door and saw Mother standing there. She smiled, and her older daughter and Kiri returned the gesture. 

“They were already awake mom.”

“Hmm, alright. Well, I also told you to bring them to me, but no matter, you four are assigned to fix baskets today. Oh, and also make about three new ones for the next party that goes out to collect necessities. That is all. Tuk is staying with me today, so don’t worry about her. I love you, and I will see you later.”

“Love you too,” the four siblings responded to their mother leaving the tent. 

Neteyam and Ä’amai grinned at the task that awaited. Sure, they were hunters, but they also enjoyed weaving. It was a nice break from their usual tasks of wrangling wild animals (and not always the ones outside). Meanwhile, Lo’ak groaned when Mother left. He did not enjoy weaving as much as the twins did. Lo’ak found the task boring and would get frustrated easily, causing him to mix up the strands, which only annoyed him further. Then there was Kiri, who remained neutral. She didn’t hate weaving baskets, but it wasn’t her first choice. If she were going to weave something, Kiri would have preferred it to be jewelry or clothing. 

By the fifth basket, Ä’amai was over it. It wasn’t that it was difficult, no, that wasn’t it. It was the fact that if she heard one more bicker from Lo’ak and Kiri, she would throttle them. For real, this time. Ä’amai glanced up at Neteyam and rolled her eyes. Neteyam tilted his head, silent, saying ‘same.’

Around midday, they had repaired ten baskets and made five more. Two more than what was asked hopefully it was satisfactory. Lo’ak and Kiri chatted while the twins did a final inspection of their work. Everything looked good. Even Lo’ak’s baskets were improving. Straight stitches and everything! 

“Yeah, they look pretty good. Let’s go hang them up so they’re ready for people to grab.” Ä’amai said finally.

“Good, now that that’s done, we should find Mom and Dad. We can see if there’s anything else to do.” Neteyam declared. Ä’amai made a noise of agreement before they began their hunt for their parents. 

“Mai! Teyam!” A little voice said from behind.

The group turned, “Hello Tuk, how was your day?” asked Kiri.

“Really good!” Tuk nodded excitedly, “Mommy and Daddy were doing important adult stuff, so they let me paint rocks!” 

Ä’amai gasped the way someone gasps when a kid shows you a trick that wasn’t difficult but they were proud of, “Ah, that sounds so fun, Tuk-Tuk.” 

“It was!” The little girl beamed. 

“I’m glad. Hey Tuk,” Neteyam crouched to be at eye level with their little sister. 

“Yeah?”

“Where are Mom and Dad? We need to ask them something.”

“Oh, they went back to the tent and told me to come with you guys.”

“Alright, well, let’s ask them and go from there, yeah?” Neteyam looked to Ä’amai, and she nodded. 

“Ä’amai! Neteyam!” They heard from behind them. It was a human. If Ä’amai remembered correctly, he assisted with handling the avatars. Ryan? Who knows, but he was calling the twins over. 

“Uh, go ahead, ask Mom and Dad, and then we’ll meet back here, okay?” Ä’amai said.

The kids nodded, and they went their separate ways,

“What do you guys think they need?” Lo’ak’s voice came from behind. 

“I don’t know.” Ä’amai turned around, “Lo’ak, you were supposed to go with the others.” She rolled her eyes. 

“Yeah, but Tuk’s annoying.” The boy responded. 

“Well, you have that in common,” Neteyam said. 

“Ha, ha,” Lo’ak mocked laughter. 

Ä’amai playfully swatted the boy’s head as Neteyam pinched his ear.

“Relax , we’re only joking, little brother,” Neteyam reassured.

“Yeah, at least three sets of hands are better than two. Maybe we’ll get whatever they want done faster.” Ä’amai said.

‘Probably-Ryan’ had asked them to help move an avatar from one pod to another. The original pod needed adjustments, but they were still resting the bodies, so they were asked to help. Either way, it was easy and speedy. So they could return to the previous spot before too much time had passed. No one was there, which was odd, but maybe their parents held the others back. 

They found the two girls crouching in the back of the home. Kiri had her ear pressed to the tent walls. Tuk had her face peaking through the crevice near the bottom. The twins looked at each other, then to Lo’ak in confusion.

“What’s going on?” Neteyam whispered.

Kiri shushed him and motioned for them to follow their lead. They got close enough to hear the frantic voice of their mother. Never had they heard her like this. Their mother was always strong, with a voice to match. For her to sound so desperate was just wrong .

“This is our family. This is our home!” Mom said. 

“This is about our family ,” Dad responded.

What is Ewya were they discussing? Ä’amai thought to herself.

“This is about our little ones,” he continued before Mom cut him off.

“I cannot. You cannot ask this.” Ask what? Ä’amai’s mind was racing, her anxiety growing, “I cannot leave my people.”

Ä’amai and Neteyam jerked up as if they had been shocked with an electric rod. They looked at each other. The same questioning looks in their eyes, with the same silent question being asked. Leave?

“He’s hunting us. He’s targeting our family—” Father started.

“You cannot ask this!” Mother snapped, a slight hiss to her voice, “The children! Everything they’ve ever known. The forest, this is our home!” The kids all winced as their Mom’s voice began to crack like she was only one more word away from tears. If Ä’amai thought that hearing her mother sound desperate was wrong, hearing her like that was much worse . 

“He had our children. He had ‘em under his knife,” Father’s voice was barely audible, but they heard. The twins began to assemble the pieces, but they didn’t want it to be true. At all. 

“My father gave me this bow as he lay dying,” Mom tried to reason. Come on, Dad, listen to her , “and he said protect the people .” Mom’s voice just broke at the end of her sentence. All Ä’amai wanted to do was rush into the tent and crush her mother in a hug. Let her know that her eldest daughter was there for her. That Ä’amai could be strong for her, “You’re Toruk Makto!” Her voice cracked at the last-ditch attempt to reason with their dad. 

“This will protect the people,” Father surged on, “Quaritch had Spider,” Kiri flinched, “and that kid knows everything. He knows our whole operation, and he can lead them right in here.” the four siblings looked at each other, worry and confusion written on their faces, “If the People harbor us, they will die. Do you understand?”

Why was he speaking to their mother— his mate —this way? Ä’amai knew what their Father was insinuating, but she prayed to Ewya that she was wrong. 

“Look, I got nothing,” he sounded defeated, “I got no plan… but I can protect this family. That I can do.”

There was silence in the tent after the final statement. Eventually, she heard faint whispers that she couldn’t make out. Maybe if she tried, she could have, but the weight of the words spoken inside the tent was getting to her. Ä’amai couldn’t believe what she just heard. None of them could. 

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

Her suspicions were confirmed. Later that day, as the sun set, Mom and Dad sat the kids down and told them the plan.

Deep down, the plan made sense, which is the part that made her so mad .

They were leaving the forest. Their home. To the Reef of all places! They were going to hide among the reef people. Awa’atlu, to be exact. A place where they would have no skills helpful to people residing there. The family would leave in a week after Lo’ak’s fourteenth birthday. 

Instead of standing their ground and defending their home. Dad was running away.

The mighty Toruk Makto was packing up and running away. 

Ä’amai didn’t understand why she was so angry. I mean, she trusted her father’s judgment. Everything would be fine. It had to be.

After bearing the news to them, Neteyam and Ä’amai went off flying, not even bothering to eat dinner or check if the kids were okay. In the middle of the night sky, with her braids flowing behind her and the wind wrapping her face, she began to calm down. The guilt of not paying attention to the kids started seeping into her mind— but everything felt like too much. She had to step away. 

A loud squawk shocked Ä’amai out of her thoughts. Right, she was riding, and her lovely girl could feel her distress.

“Mawey, Tawng, mawey.” Ä’amai reassured, getting a grip on herself, “I’m sorry, girl.” As she petted Tawng’s neck, she said, “Teyam, why don’t we go to our spot?” 

“Sounds good, yeah?” Neteyam said, slightly disgruntled as his ikran squawked. He must’ve been thinking a little too much, too. 

The twin’s spot was a swaynivi (not unlike the one the family used to have when they lived down in the forest), that hung between a circle of trees. When they sat inside, they could see the sun or the stars. The bioluminescence of the forest was sparkling all around. Ä’amai realized she had a week to take it all in. She didn’t know if she’d ever see it again.

They hopped off their ikrans and told the creatures to behave while they went to sit. For some reason, Pawk and Tawng didn’t seem to get along. They won’t tell the twins why, but they’ll listen to them when they ask them to act right. For the most part, at least.

Ä’amai and Neteyam sat close, their tswins coming together by themselves. They didn’t know why that happened, but it’s happened for as long as they could remember. Once they had talked about it, their siblings asked why their tswins acted ‘weird’. They didn’t know what to say at first or even how to describe it.

It’s like we’re two halves, and our tswins know that. So, when we get close enough, it is like they are saying, “There you are!”. Then we connect, and they are happy because we are now whole.

That’s what the twin’s nine-year-old brains came up with, and, honestly, it seemed just about right.

“So,” Ä’amai broke the silence, “what do you think?” 

Neteyam sighed, looking at the sky, “I don’t know.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s just— I trust Dad, but this feels so, so…”

Now it was Ä’amai’s turn to sigh, “Yeah.”

Neither wanted to say it out loud, but they could hear the same word bouncing around in each other’s minds. Bouncing around, fighting to break free. 

Since when did Toruk Makto and the mighty Neytiri run away ? It was… cowardly.

“Do you think we’ll ever come back?” Neteyam asked quietly. 

“I hope so, perhaps once this monster goes away at last,” Ä’amai said.

The twins sat in silence, looking at the stars above them. Anytime she looked at the stars, Ä’amai would look for the same thing— the star that contained the galaxy Dad came from. The Milky Way and in that little galaxy lay a system of planets, and there was Earth. She had always wondered if Dad had left anything behind. If he missed anything. Friends? Family? Didn’t he have parents? It had to have been hard to leave them. Suddenly, the hammock bounced slightly. Ä’amai and Neteyam turned around to see their father. 

“Thought I might find you two here.” He said. 

Damn, she forgot they told their parents about this place. It was purely for emergencies, but at the moment, she regretted ever opening her mouth. 

“Can I sit?” The man said awkwardly. They nodded curtly.

In the back of her mind, Ä’amai remembered her father’s words from the previous night, “We’ll talk more tomorrow.” She winced inwardly, thinking of the lecture that would surely come. 

But Dad didn’t say anything. He simply walked in front of them and sat. He looked as strong as always, but something was off. The man before them was crouching in on himself, looking uncomfortable.

“So,” he finally began, “I know me and mom just dropped a bomb on you kids. Uh, I just wanted to ask how you guys were doing.” Dad seemed almost unsure of the words he was speaking. 

Wanting to keep the peace, Ä’amai said, “Fine.”

“Alright,” Neteyam said. 

Dad gave them a look like he didn’t believe them. He was right to think that. They weren’t alright, but they wouldn’t tell him that. They’d rather lie and give their parents two fewer children to worry about. 

Their father sighed, “Okay, just know I’m here for you, okay?”

“Of course, sir.” And, “Yes sir.” Came the replies of the twins.

The man in front of them didn’t look satisfied, and he sighed deeply as he moved closer to his eldest children. 

“Look, I shouldn’t have blown up last night. I just didn’t know how else to tell you. I made mistakes last night and so did you two, okay? We all made mistakes last night. And last night , it turned out okay. But there will be a time when it doesn’t, and I don’t want that. So I need you guys to listen, okay? I tell you guys things for a reason, not to be a bad guy. Understand?”

What a speech.

The twins wanted to get angry. They wanted to yell and cry at their father. They did listen, they did everything that was asked. Sure, they made mistakes, but they weren’t the parents. Ä’amai tried to get the kids to leave, but they didn’t listen— they never do! Neteyam may have disobeyed orders, but if he hadn’t, Mom could’ve died! 

“Honestly,” Dad said, his voice quieter, “I have no idea what it’s like to be you guys.” That warranted a double-take because what did that even mean? “As much as I understand how stubborn Lo’ak is or how aggravating the others can be. I don’t know what it’s like to be in your position. To be the responsible one. That was Tommy.”

Tommy was Dad’s twin. He didn’t talk about him much.

“And I was Lo’ak. Tommy was always trying to wrangle me, but of course, I would just end up dragging him into trouble.” That sounded familiar, “When my parents stopped talking to me, Tommy was right by my side. I’ve always seen him in you guys. Just know that I appreciate what  you guys do for your siblings, the clan, your mom, me, and everyone.”

Ä’amai and Neteyam stared blankly at their father. They didn’t really know what to say to that. 

“I just gotta ask one more thing from you two. Is that alright?” They nodded, “Next week is gonna be difficult. For all of us. I need you two to stay strong, keep out of trouble, and watch—”

“Watch Lo’ak,” they completed before they realized they had interrupted their father and blushed, “Sorry, sir.” They said sheepishly. 

Dad laughed, “It’s alright. I guess I do say it a lot, but you guys got it, right?” 

They let out tiny giggles as if they were little kids again, “Yes sir,” they smiled.

“Perfect,” he moved forward to pull the twins into a hug. Dad held them by the backs of their heads, their faces in his neck. There was no warmth like their father’s, so the twins enjoyed the embrace, taking in the rare moment, “Alright, I’m gonna head back. Don’t stay out too late.” 

Ä’amai and Neteyam nodded as their father mounted his ikran and took to the sky. They stared at the falling leaves Dad’s ikran had hit with its wings. Neteyam turned to look at her. His eyes held sadness, his mouth downturned. Ä’amai raised her eyes, worried.

“Nothing will ever be the same again,” Neteyam said quietly.

Ä’amai nodded. A look of matching emotion crossed her face before she managed a small, hopeful smile.

“We will.”

Neteyam smiled, “Yeah, we will.” 

Chapter Text

If Ä’amai had to pick a word to describe the week following the forest conversation, it would be empty . Soulless, nothing but moving through the motions. Whatever you wanted to call it— nothing felt real . The only thing Ä’amai could focus on was the forlorn looks they were all receiving from the clan. Everywhere they went, someone would look at them with eyes already mourning them. 

Even when it finally came time to say goodbye and even when Tarsem brought the blade to Dad’s chest, nothing felt real. Ä’amai may have been at the ceremony, standing in front of her clan physically, but her mind was elsewhere. Where it traveled to, she doesn’t know, but it felt like Ä’amai was watching through someone else’s eyes. During the ceremony, she couldn’t even see the tears the clan shed over their departure. For that, Ä’amai was grateful because she didn’t want to see the clan cry. Then it would all be real, and every emotion she had been bottling up would pour out. Ä’amai couldn’t do that. She had to be strong.

So, from walking to the ikran to saying goodbye one last time to finally mounting and flying off— Ä’amai felt nothing. It wasn’t real. She flew beside Neteyam, the mood somber. Not even Tawng and Pawk were bickering. She tried not to look back, she really did— but Ä’amai couldn’t bear not taking one last look at the place she called her home. So, as they were flying over the cliffside, Ä’amai turned her head back, her braids whipping across her face (it hurt, but that did not matter at the moment), and the tears began to gather. The fading view of her home was too much, but the tears never fell. The cliffside got smaller and smaller. Then, the trees faded into the landscape. Then, the forest was gone. They were gone. 

And it was real. 

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

The family flew for days, rain or shine. The only reason they would ever stop was to eat or rest themselves and their ikran. Well, almost the only reason. About a day ago, Ä’amai was flying with Tawng in silence (which had become the new norm nowadays) while Dad told stories from his childhood and teenage years. Usually, Ä’amai would listen to his stories with vigor. She actually very much enjoyed hearing about her father’s time as a human on Earth. Hearing about how much of a skxawng her father used to be was always so jarring yet entertaining. At the time, though, Ä’amai only listened with half her attention. The other half was focused on what their new lives would be like. Yet, with the little attention she was paying her father, she caught a particularly funny detail that made her burst out laughing. Neteyam laughed, too, of course. But Neteyam wasn’t the one with a dive-happy ikran. Pawk let out a sound akin to the instrument she was named after. It’s what the ikran did when she was happy. 

Yeah.

Ä’amai wished .

Instead, at the sound of Ä’amai’s first laugh in a few days, Tawng let out a series of happy chitters and flew higher. She realized what her lovely girl was going to do far too late. She was too distracted by how cute Tawng was when she was happy. Yes, Tawng dove down. Tawng dove straight into the cold ocean below, leaving them both thoroughly soaked, but only Ä’amai was shivering. Tawng was happy, of course. She thought she was funny. 

So, one of their breaks was spent with Ä’amai sitting by the fire and Lo’ak making fun of her. Kiri and Tuk were giggling at the elder as well. Even Neteyam let out a small chuckle as he pulled his shivering twin into a side hug by the crackling flames, but at the moment, Ä’amai didn’t mind being the butt of the joke. In fact, even she could not contain her smile. The Sullys were laughing, eating, and singing around the fire. The family’s scattered chatters were something she hadn’t heard since they left home. It was nice.

At least they were together. It’s like Dad always said, “ Sully’s stick together. ” 

Alright, the phrase, “ Sully’s stick together ,” was just about the only thing holding Ä’amai back from taking a purposeful dive into the ocean and just sinking. Not really, but still, it was a thought. They’d been flying for days, and even though she adored her little sister— if Tuk uttered the words “Are we there yet?” one more time —Ä’amai was gonna scream. 

Regardless, Dad was right. If the Sullys wanted to survive this, then they had to stick together.

No matter what.

It was two more days of flying over the vast, never-ending deep sea before they reached their final destination. The once dark blue water, with harsh waves that crashed relentlessly on rocks, soon transformed into crystal clear water with a color reminiscent of the sky. They flew over small pools of water stacked on each other, where Metkayina waded and stared. Ä’amai figured that these were the first of many stares they would receive. 

As the family glided near the beach, Ä’amai noticed the large roots that seemed to hold the maruis of the village, a sort of netting connected all of the homes. Some maruis overlooked the ocean. How… different . It was lovely, of course. Ä’amai couldn’t say the reef wasn’t absolutely stunning. Had the circumstances been different, Ä’amai would have marveled at its beauty, but now, all she could see was the place that was supposed to replace her childhood home.

A Metkayina spotter blew on an odd-looking shell to announce the arrival of strangers. Ä’amai wondered how the Metkayina felt when the mighty wings of ikran flapped so near their village. Had they ever even seen or been near an ikran before? The people below yipped and hollered at their arrival. Ä’amai remembered her father telling them to “play nice” sometime during their last week home. So, as they headed towards the beach, Ä’amai noticed a small girl with wild curls in the water. The older gave the small child a soft smile, and Tawng chirped at her. 

Which, in hindsight, wasn’t the best idea. 

On the bright side, Ä’amai got an answer to her previous question. The Metkayina had not been near ikran. Whether or not they had seen one was still up for debate. If the Reef Na’vi had ever actually been near ikran, they’d know it was happy chirping. Tawng was just saying hello, but since they didn’t understand, the girl’s mother pushed her back with her spear at the ready.

Ä’amai patted Tawng, who was slightly upset that the little girl seemed scared of her— tough crowd.

Tawng finally made contact with the ground, and after a quick affirming nod that she and Neteyam shared, Ä’amai hopped off. Her braids swayed from side to side as she walked with her arms positioned so that anyone could see she was not armed. The Sullys mean no harm.

On their final stop, before reaching Awa’atlu, Ä’amai deliberately dressed in a way that showed who she was. From her cummerbund, stacked choker, knife at the hipe, raspu on her legs, and sturdy top— Ä’amai dressed like a warrior. Any Na’vi from the Forest Clans would instantly know she was a warrior with a complete iknimaya. They’d know she was strong . Neteyam, Dad, and Mom did the same. However, looking at the warriors here, Ä’amai doubted the message was received. 

The more the family walked, the more Metkayina they had surrounding them. Soon, the Sullys stood in the center of a crowd of Reef People with stern yet curious gazes. Some were cautious, which was understandable. They were strangers, after all, who looked very different .

Speaking of which, that was another thing. See, Ä’amai didn’t expect the other Na’vi to look as different as they did. The majority of Omaticaya had thick, strong, straight hair that they pulled into many braids. Meanwhile, most Metkayina had curls that many wore loose. They had these large, protruding chests with broad shoulders and arms to match. The patterns on their skins looked like ripples of water and were faint compared to her dark stripes. Reef Na’vi seemed to favor tattoos, which most people seemed to have. Speaking of skin, the Metkayina were a very light blue, almost green… teal? The faces of the two Na’vi were quite similar, though. Although their eyes were light and farther apart, their ears were smaller, their noses slightly more hooked, their— okay, that’s enough. Ä’amai needed to stop focusing on their differences, or else she would drive herself up the wall.

Out of the crowd, two boys appeared. Ä’amai assumed the taller one was of slightly greater status, considering how the other Na’vi cleared a path for him. The boy had braids, but only on top. The rest of his hair was pulled into some sort of bun. On the other hand, his friend had a shock of curls spewing from his head. 

The tall boy’s eyes landed right on Ä’amai and would not leave. His gaze reminded her of a hunter aiming their bow at prey or a threat. Had this been the forest and twins were accompanying their parents on business, and the son of— let’s say —an Olo’eyktan stared her down like that, Ä’amai would have assumed he was challenging her. However, even then, a challenge of that manner would have to be formally proposed. So, perhaps he was just being cautious. Possibly, the boy thought Ä’amai looked strange. She certainly thought he looked rather… different. To put it nicely. 

But , like a good eldest child should, she shoved those thoughts aside. Instead, she, Neteyam, and Lo’ak did a proper Na’vi greeting to the glaring boy. Neither he nor his friend returned the gesture. 

How rude , Ä’amai thought. Even though the siblings were strangers, it was only polite to return the greeting. This was something taught to children back home. Were the Metkayina indeed so different, even in their basic mannerisms? She thought to herself, but Ä’amai suspected this wasn’t the case. 

Yes, she thought. From how he burst through the crowd and walked nearer to the Sullys than any other clan member. The way he held himself with an air of confidence and kept his friend behind him. The way the boy kept his gaze hardened on the eldest Sully children. This boy was more than likely Olo’eyktan’s son, that, or he was just a cocky bastard. 

Or he was both. 

That was always an option. 

The boys continued to circle them, and Ä’amai tried to pay them no mind, but, 

“Look. What is that?” One boy said from behind. Just breathe and stay calm, Ä’amai . It couldn’t be that hard. She had to deal with people being insufferable anywhere. Ä’amai kept her gaze fixated on the ground with her head down, “Is that supposed to be a tail?” 

Rude again . I mean, if this were Reef Na’vi appearing in her cave home, she would at least keep her comments to herself. Ä’amai turned her head back to see the boys laughing at her and Neteyam’s tails. The taller one noticed, looked up at her, and flashed her a cocky smirk. She blinked at him, wanting to roll her eyes, but instead, she pursed her lips in an unintentional pout. Her father would say that the expression made her look just like her mother. The expression only made the boy give her another cocky smirk. 

The smaller boy didn’t seem to notice her turned head and lightly hit his friend’s arm and pointed, 

“It’s too small. How are they supposed to swim?” The taunting continued. Just as Ä’amai began to look away, an objectively beautiful young girl (maybe Lo’ak’s age) hit the boy’s arm, 

“Do not,” she said sternly, “Roxto, Aonung!” Finally, some names to go along with these rude boy’s faces. Following her scolding, the mystery girl sighed. 

Ä’amai turned her head forward again and allowed herself a small, immature smile at the boys getting scolded. As it turned out, the pretty girl had turned her attention to the three siblings. Ä’amai was about to give her a polite greeting as a show of thanks when she heard,

“Hey,” from behind her. Lo’ak said this, and the girl responded by smiling, giggling, and looking down. 

Go Lo’ak, Ä’amai thought as she turned to her brother, who had a stupid smile. He definitely thought she was pretty. Lo’ak looked away when he saw the twins looking at him with knowing smiles. They smirked at each other. Oh , they were going to tease him later. 

Suddenly, the mood changed, and all eyes now faced the water, where three people splashed aggressively on… on… what were those? They sort of looked like water-ikran. They even flew. Well, sorta flew— more glided. They didn’t stay in the air for long, only enough to glide over the crowd. The Sullys were the only ones to duck. The rest only watched the strange creatures as they landed. When they did, the three Na’vi were on the other side of the sandy bridge. 

The frontman caught Ä’amai’s attention. When he touched down, he didn’t move a muscle. His posture was poised and commanding. His gaze never left the Sullys. The large man was decorated with tattoos that covered both his eyes, a cape of feathers and beads, a rather sizeable blue necklace, and much more. His hair resembled the tall boys, but he had long curls running down his back along with the braids and the bun. He walked so sure, so confident. This had to be Tonowari, the Olo’eyktan of Awa’atlu. Tonowari was a strong and stern chief with a gentle heart at his core. Tonowari had never seen war. In fact, none of these people had. Ä’amai couldn’t help but feel slightly jealous, but she quickly pushed the feelings down and greeted the man with her family. 

Then, the crowd began to make way for someone else, and when Ä’amai saw the woman who practically radiated authority. She knew who she was. This was Ronal, the Tsahik of the Metkayina. From Ä’amai’s studies of the Reef Clans, she had concluded that this Tsahik was a tough and stubborn woman. She was very involved in Olo'eyktan's decisions. In a way, Tsahik reminded Ä’amai of her mother. 

“I see you Ronal, Tsahik of the Metkayina.” Father said. Neteyam and Ä’amai made the gesture as well out of respect. 

“I see you, Ronal.” Mother said.

Ronal, Tsahik of the Metkayina, said nothing. She only stared at her parents like they were pests. 

“Why do you come to us, Jakesully?” Tonowari asked calmly.

Father motioned to the family, “We seek uturu.” There it was, the big question.

“Uturu?” The Tsahik questioned almost immediately.

“Yes, sanctuary for my family,” Dad explained to the quickly irritated woman. 

The Tsahik walked forward into the group while Tonowari spoke,

“We are Reef People. You are Forest People. Your skills will mean nothing here.” He starts plainly.  

Ronal walked between the family, scanning Tuk, Mother, Neteyam, and herself with relative ease. The woman’s eyes narrowed as she passed over Lo’ak and Kiri, but she said nothing. 

Tsahik Ronal then grabbed Mother’s tail. Oh, that was not good. Mother was already irritated, and Ä’amai couldn’t see her face from her angle, but she hoped it masked what she really felt. Ronal still said nothing and let Mom’s tail go. She continued to be silent while studying Mom and Tuk until she grabbed Tuk’s arm like it was a piece of rotting meat. 

“Their arms are thin.” Ronal finally spoke, “Their tails…” she practically yanked Kiri’s tail, who cried out in pain. Ä’amai kept a close eye, “...are weak . You will be slow in the water.”

Ronal looked down at Kiri again, examining her. Then, she reached out to grab her— Oh no ,

“These children,” Ronal held Kiri’s hands up for all to see, “are not even true Na’vi.” Kiri looked around for help. Ä’amai wanted to pull her sister away and hide her from this humiliation.

“Yes, we are!” Kiri argued as she pulled her hands out of the Tsahik’s grasp. Luckily, the older woman said nothing about Kiri’s retaliation and walked away. She strutted right towards Lo’ak. Ronal grabbed his hand and raised it to the sun, observing it,

“They have demon blood!” Tsahik declared. 

Ä’amai could do nothing but watch with slightly parted lips that wanted nothing but to defend her brother and sister. Her eyes held a fire that she could only attempt to mask. The rest of the clan gasped and growled at Ronal’s revelation. Lo’ak looked down, but his big sister’s gaze never left Tsahik. 

“Look,” she heard her dad say, “Look!” Ronal sharply turned her head but kept her grip on Lo’ak’s hand, “Look, I was born of the Sky People,” Dad showed his hand, “and now I am Na’vi. All right? You can adapt. We will adapt.” The last sentence addressed not only the leaders but the entire clan.

“My husband was Toruk Makto.” Mom said, suddenly entering the conversation. Although the title was impressive, Ä’amai wasn’t sure it would mean much in the Reef, “He led the clans to victory against the Sky People.” Mother was a prideful woman, and she made sure to look at Ronal and Tonowari directly in the eye. 

“This you call victory?” Ronal questioned, “Hiding among strangers?” Ä’amai and Neteyam watched as the woman voiced their inner thoughts on this matter right before their eyes, “It seems Eywa has turned her back on you, Chosen One.” The last bit was directed at her father. It took everything in Ä’amai not to show the anger that was brewing in her. How dare she say that the Great Mother has abandoned her family? 

On the other hand, Mother was done being silent in her anger. She hissed— borderline growled —at the Metakyina Tsahik. Ronal hissed back. Okay, maybe Ä’amai was right. The two women were very alike. Much more than the two seemed to realize, that is.

Ä’amai looked to her Father and then to Tonowari, waiting to see who would intervene first. Tonowari’s blue eyes darted between the two women, his ears twitching. Honestly, what was he waiting for? For a moment, it didn’t look like anyone would say anything. What, were they just gonna let the two hash it out? Honestly, Ä’amai couldn’t say she wasn’t curious about how that fight would play out. Her Mother’s prowess in battle was known across the Forest clans, but Ronal looked quite fierce herself. Perhaps Mother would trump her as she had the gift of experience. 

Alas, Ä’amai’s curiosity would not be solved as Dad put himself in front of Mother. Effectively blocking Ronal’s view of her,

“I apologize for my mate. She’s—” he began gently, attempting to calm the pair. 

“Do not apologize for me.” Mother said with a tight voice. 

“ She’s flown a long way, and she’s exhausted.” He reiterated, using a tone that even Mother would not fight.

Ronal sighed, deciding to back off as well, and walked toward her mate. He gave her one last look before deciding to say something finally. 

“Toruk Makto is a great war leader,” he grabbed Dad’s shoulder, unintentionally (or perhaps intentionally ) showing their height difference. If anything, Dad only came up to Tonowari’s eyes, “All Na’vi people know his story,” Father winced at the use of his title once again. It was as if he was uncomfortable being the mighty Toruk Makto, “but we Metkayina are not at war.” The Chief spoke slowly, addressing his clan, not the pleading Sullys.

Ä’amai wished the Chief would just spit it out already. Let his decision be known instead of weaving a rope he only intended to cut short. Dread overcame her, but she kept stoic and looked at the man. If he was only going to deny them, why couldn’t he just come out and say it—

“Dad,” a little voice spoke, one that belonged to the little Tuktirey— who had no idea what she just did. 

To Tuk, she was only searching for comfort in her Daddy’s arms, but she may have just twisted their fates for the better. 

Ever so slightly, Ronal’s stance staggered. Her hands floated underneath the small bump on her stomach before quickly returning to her sides. Tonowari took a long pause. He was not facing Dad, so he could not see Tuk seek security in Father’s arms. But he could hear Tuk’s voice, filled with the innocence only a child could have. 

Tonowari turned. He shrugged as if saying, ‘ Too bad’, 

“We cannot let you bring your war here,” Olo’eyktan said. 

However, Ä’amai noticed how he faltered as he looked at the scared child in her father’s arms. She heard the way his voice got quiet with guilt. 

“I’m done with war, okay?” Dad’s tone was desperate, “I just want to keep my family safe.” 

Olo’eyktan looked to Tsahik. She looked back, and Ä’amai was sure her eyebrows would be raised in disbelief (if she had them, that is).

“Uturu has been asked.” Mom said.

Tonowaru sighed, looking at Ronal once more. From the corner of her eye, Ä’amai watched the interaction that would decide if this was all for not. The couple communicated without words but seemed to understand each other perfectly. This went on until Ronal nodded. Ä’amai let out a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding as Tonowari stepped out to address the clan again.

Olo’eyktan took a sharp breath and spoke, “Toruk Makto and his family will stay with us. Treat them as our brothers and sisters.” Ä’amai kept her stiff stance, her sideways stare still focused on the chief. He wasn’t done just yet, “Now, they do not know the sea.” There it was , “So they will be like babies,” ouch , the man paused to look straight at the family, ensuring his words stuck, “taking their first breath. Teach them our ways.” He spoke slowly, the last part towards his clan. It was nearly a tone one would take with a child as you taught them to be respectful of others. 

Perhaps that’s exactly what he was doing, or perhaps Ä’amai was being pessimistic and judgemental. Maybe both. After all, she still wasn’t exactly thrilled about the situation. Olo’eyktan continued,

“So they do not suffer the shame of being useless .” While she knew the droning spiel was necessary for a chief’s formal announcement to the clan, the last part stung. Useless?  

Ä’amai couldn’t recall the last time she had been truly useless. Unable to help? 

Sure. 

But useless? Ä’amai was not — would not , be useless—

“Okay, what do we say?” Father’s voice shook her out of her thoughts.

“Thank you.” Tuk started. Dad and the twins quickly followed. Kiri, Lo’ak, and Mother provided silent gratitude. Considering they’d just been humiliated before the entire clan, it was a step forward. 

Thankfully, Olo’eyktan found this satisfactory and nodded. He motioned to the children on his right side. The kind, pretty girl and the rude boy from earlier,

“My son, Aonung,” so he was Olo’eyktan’s son, “our daughter, Tsireya,” at least he had one child with manners, “will show your children what to do.” Tsireya smiled, excitement written over the girl’s features. Aonung , on the other hand,

“Father, why do I—” protested immediately. 

“It is decided,” his Father shut him down before he could even complete his thought. Aonung was silenced with a firm finger in his face. 

“Come. I will show you our village.” Tsireya welcomed the family with a warm smile.

And that was that. The Sullys were granted uturu and had to start from scratch in a new village. 

Tsireya led them across the village. The netted pathways were unstable and off. Even Ä’amai, who’d been climbing rickety branches since she was young, needed a bit more concentration to not topple into the sea below. Tuk was having a grand time on the bouncy walkway, jumping up and down. She smiled at her sister, having fun, even if it was slightly inappropriate. However, Ä’amai also noticed the unsubtle glances and glares they received— the parents who pulled their small children away from the Sullys as if they were rabid animals. 

At the end of the path was their new home— a marui. Ä’amai was born in a tent near the original Hell’s Gate. Her earliest years were spent in a tent similar to the one she was born in. Her adolescence was spent in the Forest with an Omaticaya-style marui and swaynivi, and then the sky people returned, and the Omaticaya moved to High Camp. So, it was back to the tents. Of course, she did not mind, but it had been a while since the Sullys had a proper marui to call their home. But would it ever truly be her home? Only time would tell, she supposed. 

The Metkayina marui was similar to the Omaticaya ones for the most part. They were both woven structures with a hearth in the middle. Only this one rested over the ocean, while her original home rested in the trees. If Äamai focused, she was reminded of her tent back at High Camp, and if she focused a bit harder, she could remind herself of her forest home way back when.  

Dad tried to look on the bright side. He just kept saying how great it was over and over. Mom, on the other hand, was not. Immediately when she walked in, she dropped the mats she was carrying with no regard. The heavy cloths landed on the floor with a thud . Ä’amai winced at that. Tsireya was still standing at the entrance and didn’t want to make it seem like her family was ungrateful. Ä’amai moved her head around, looking at the intricate patterns that held them over the ocean. Eventually, she caught the Metkayina girl’s gaze. Her smile was tighter than it had been before. Though Ä’amai wasn’t thoroughly pleased with the situation, she could see that Tsireya was only a child. A child who was only doing her best to make foreigners feel welcome. 

“Thank you, Tsireya,” Ä’amai gave her a warm smile, returning the genuine smile to the young girl’s face. 

It worked. Tsireya’s bright smile returned, lighting up her already light features, “You are welcome! Shall I show you and your siblings the rest of the village?” 

Ä’amai felt a hand on her shoulder, “Yes, that would be wonderful. As long as it is no trouble.” Neteyam said. 

“Ah, it would be no trouble at all,” she clapped her hands together as her eyes squinted with glee. Ä’amai couldn’t help but smile back. The girl’s joy was infectious, “I will let you all settle in and return in a short while.”

“Thank you, Tsireya. We will see you in a bit, I suppose.” Ä’amai said. 

“Yes, yes! And, of course— uh —apologies, but what are your names?” Tsireya asked sheepishly.

“It is alright. There is nothing to be sorry for,” Neteyam said. Ä’amai nodded in agreement before introducing herself,

“I am Ä’amai.” 

“I am Neteyam.” 

They said one after the other.

“Then there’s Tuktirey— but everyone calls her Tuk —then Kiri and Lo’ak. Our parents Ja— Tsyeyk te Suli,” she switched to the Na’vi pronunciation of her Father’s name to make it easier for Tsireya, “and Neytiri te Tskaha Mo’at’ite.” Ä’amai pointed to her family members as they each offered a small greeting.

“Lovely, well, it was nice meeting you all!” Tsireya said as she walked off.

“She’s nice,” Neteyam said to the family. 

“Yeah,” Lo’ak said, his eyes lingering on the spot where Tsireya once stood.

“Snap out of it, Lo’ak,” Ä’amai laughed. 

The boy in question looked away, his face flushed with embarrassment, “Whatever,” he grumbled, “help me put this stuff away.”

Ä’amai and Neteyam snickered, but she walked over to the younger regardless. 

From there, the family completed their work in relative silence. Ä’amai did end up helping Lo’ak once she finished putting away the family’s clothing (an easy task). Soon enough, Tsireya reappeared a few moments after they finished, 

“Are you all ready?” She asked.

“Yes, you arrived right on time,” Ä’amai replied.

“Perfect!” Tsireya clapped her hands together, “Oh! I brought some help— come, brother, come, Roxto.”

She motioned for the two boys to come into view. Roxto and Aonung walked in slowly as if they had been forced to be there. Which they likely were. Ä’amai was sure Tsireya could be pretty fierce when she wanted to despite her small stature. When they arrived earlier that day, Ä’amai had dubbed Roxto and Aonung ‘ the rude boys.’ However, that was in the past. They had to start a new leaf now and make good impressions. And good impressions began with politeness and grace. Ä’amai and Neteyam walked forward to greet the two boys and introduce the rest. Thankfully, the Metkayina duo responded with greetings of their own this time. Roxto even smiled sweetly at them and apologized for his earlier words. 

Aonung did not.

Ä’amai chose to look past that. 

For now, at least, as long as he does not continue to bash her family. Besides, such behavior was unbecoming of a future Olo’eyktan. Ä’amai would know. 

Tsireya walked in front of the siblings while they walked around the village. She showed them the important parts of the village, including the Tsahik’s hut, where the canoes and paddleboards were, and the ilu’s favorite dock to swim around at. There was also the communal dinner area on the beach with a large fire pit in the middle.

“The clan gathers to eat here on special occasions. You will see it one day. Ah , the dancing, the music, the food— it is all great fun!” Tsireya fawned over the prospect of the clan coming together, but one thing struck Ä’amai as odd.

“The clan only eats together on special occasions?” Lo’ak voiced her question for her. 

Tsireya paused momentarily, unsure how to respond, “Yes, usually families eat in their own maruis. Is it— is it different in the forest?” 

“Uh, yeah,” Lo’ak said dumbly. 

“The Omaticaya, at least, eat nearly every meal together.” Ä’amai cut in.

“It was not like you were forced to, but it was just normal . Tradition. It was always nice to come together around the fire and share a meal. See everyone safe and sound. You know? Tell stories and laugh together.” Neteyam said. 

“Well, it sounds lovely,” Tsireya said.

“It was,” Kiri said quickly, sounding almost defensive.

Ä’amai and Neteyam smiled awkwardly at Tsireya, silently excusing their sister's tone. 

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

Soon enough, the clear blue of the sky melted away into various shades of oranges and red, and hints of indigo peeked through. The sun set perfectly between the two large rocks in the distance as it disappeared into the ocean. People around them were completing the final day’s chores, bringing food home. The Sully children were no different. Around sunset, the tour ended, and the kids went their separate ways. The Omaticaya kids were instructed on where to meet for the next morning's first lessons. When they finally arrived inside the marui, Dad gave them the standard talk about behaving and such (nothing she hadn’t heard before, but she listened intently). 

Mother had cooked with some food left over from their reserve. It was nice to have a taste of home. After the Sullys settled down with full bellies and tired eyes, and after some struggle to put up their hammocks (Metkayina apparently slept on floor mats), sleep overcame them. Tuk was the first to succumb to sleep, resting on Mom’s chest. Lo’ak came after and was sprawled over his hammock, mouth open and drooling. Mom and Dad went soon after. Ä’amai was glad. Her parents had stayed awake through many nights, watching the kids and letting them sleep peacefully. Now, the only one left was Kiri, who was sitting at the entrance, gazing at the stars. 

“Kiri,” Ä’amai said in a sing-song voice, “what are you still doing up tsmuketsyìp?”

The twins sat on either side of the girl.

“Yes, you should get some rest. We have a long day ahead.” Neteyam said, putting a hand on her shoulder.

Silence. Kiri did not say a word. 

“Are you okay?” Neteyam asked tentatively, “How are you feeling?”

Silence, again. 

“Riri, come one,” Ä’amai said softly. Kiri said nothing about the childish nickname, “You know,” she brought a hand to her sister’s free shoulder, “we are here for you, Kiri, for whatever you need. Even if what you need is just to talk.” 

“About anything,” Neteyam assured.

“The move.”

“What happened with Tsahik.”

“...Spider—”

Kiri shoved them off and stood up immediately,

“I’m fine .” She said sharply. Then she marched over to lie in her hammock.

Ä’amai sighed. For all she tried, she could not push Spider from her thoughts. The sky people took him, under her watch, nonetheless. It was one of her greatest failures, and she could not do anything about it. Ä’amai didn’t like thinking about him, but if Kiri— if Kiri needed it so she could feel at peace, she would.

Neteyam scooted closer to her, and their kurus connected all on their own. It felt like a breath of fresh air. Her mind was now clear, and the security of being together overcame her. Almost immediately, the twins plopped down on the marui floor, exhausted. 

“Long day.” Neteyam sighed.

“ Yeah .” Ä’amai breathed out. 

“Wonder what tomorrow will be like.” Neteyam thought out loud in a tight voice laced with exhaustion. 

Ä’amai clenched her eyes and gritted her teeth. She didn’t even want to think about how challenging the next day would be. She and Neteyam were full-fledged warriors with the Omaticaya, and here they were— starting at the beginning. At fifteen-years-old. 

“ Yeah.”

Chapter Text

The twins woke on the floor of the marui, where they had merely closed their eyes the previous night. The sun hadn’t even risen yet, and the stars still ruled the skies. Their eyelids were heavy with the exhaustion of the journey, and they were shivering with the cold wind that came from the entrance. They found their way to their hammocks, which still smelled slightly of their forest homes, but could not rest even then. The unfamiliar ocean breeze empowered the salty scent of the ocean and overpowered anything else. So, they opted to prepare for the day instead. 

Groggily, the twins made breakfast, prepared a fire, and laid out fresh sets of clothing. Dressed and ready for the upcoming day, the twins sat crossed-legged by the fire. The warmth lulled them to sleep once again, 

“Hey, mighty warriors, you guys awake?” Dad put a hand on her head, waking her up. She nodded, “Nice, thank you for getting things ready, but promise me you’ll get some rest tonight. Yeah?”

“Yes sir,” their words were slurred as the twins were still half asleep. Perhaps today would be so tiring they’d simply sleep through the night with no trouble. 

The rest of the family woke up soon after the sun made its way into the sky and began to compose themselves for the day. 

Finding the dock wasn’t hard. The chattering and splashing of the ilu drew them straight to it. Sitting on the edge were Tsireya, Aonung, and Roxto. Tsireya saw the Sully siblings and stood, 

“Oel ngati kamie Tsireya, Roxto, and Aonung.” Ä’amai and Neteyam greeted. 

“Oel ngati kamie, Ä’amai and Neteyam.” Tsireya smiled brightly. She elbowed the boys to do the same, but Aonung only rolled his eyes. Roxto made the motion once his friend wasn’t looking, “Forgive my brother. Shall we begin? Let’s start with a simple swim, yes?” Tsireya didn’t wait for a response, and the three Metkayina gracefully dove head-first into the water. 

“Come on!” Neteyam told Lo’ak, and they both jumped into the water feet-first. 

Ä’amai laughed, “Skawngs,” she jumped after her brothers. 

The water was surprisingly warm, and once Ä’amai’s vision adjusted, it was pretty nice. The reef was like a whole other world. She and her brothers marveled at its beauty as they tried to keep up with the Metkayina, but they were fast. The features that Ä’amai had originally thought strange were the same features that made them built for the water— her lithe forest figure was not. Soon, her lungs began to burn, and she needed air. When she and the boys broke from the water, they gasped, trying to suck in all the air they could before going back down. Ä’amai spotted Tsireya, who made some odd finger symbols at them before simply motioning for them to follow. It wasn’t long before the Omaticaya were back at the surface, gasping for once more. This time, their teachers joined them, 

“Are you alright?” Tsireya asked.

“You’re too fast! Wait for us!” Tuk complained.

“Just breathe. Breathe—” Tsireya tried to say. 

“You are not good divers,” Aonung cut in, “Maybe good at swinging through trees, but—” Tsireya slapped him before he got the chance to finish. 

Thank goodness, Ä’amai rolled her eyes.

“Come on, bro,” Lo’ak tried to reason.

“We don’t speak this finger talk, guys,” Netetyam said. 

“Yes,” Ä’amai said, “besides, we only have rivers in the forest, and we use those fish or bathe. Maybe even to cool off— but not to dive.”

“I will teach you,” Tsireya reassured.

“Where is Kiri?” Roxto asked.

Ä’amai’s brain stopped for a moment, and she looked around. Crap , where was Kiri?

Roxto immediately dove back down, and, to be honest, Ä’amai was surprised he knew who Kiri was . Roxto popped back up only moments later, his curls dripping with the water it had soaked up.

“Found her,” he said with a slight smirk, “look.” 

The group ducked their heads down, and Ä’amai understood why Roxto looked so amused. There was Kiri at the bottom of the reef with all the rocks and coral. She glided around the water effortlessly, looking at Eywa’s creations with the childlike wonder her baby sister had never lost. Leave it to her sister— the girl who had tamed an ikran by asking it to be her friend —to be a master diver simply because she was enthralled with the world around her.

“Well, at least one of you can dive,” Aonung said with a click of his tongue. 

“Kiri’s special,” Ä’amai said with a breathy laugh. 

“I wanna swim like that!” Tuk exclaimed.

“You will, little one, soon,” Tsireya told her.

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

Ä’amai looked at the happily chirping and clicking ilu with her brow furrowed. The ilu didn’t pick their riders. They were like pa’li and rode with anyone. 

Whew, okay, like pa’li. 

She could do this. 

“Of course, I get stuck with two students,” Aonung grumbled. Ä’ami bit her tongue before pointing out that Tsireya had taken on three, “Whatever,” he sighed, “Okay, so, ilu. Children ride ilu, so I’m sure you can, too. Ilu are playful but strong, so you must— wait, hold on.” Aonung’s signature annoying smirk made its way to his lips as he pushed the ilu’s tswin into Ä’amai’s hands. The boy waded over to his friends who stood nearby. 

Neteyam glanced at her and rolled his eyes, 

“ That is our instructor? Psh, we will learn nothing.” He whispered.

“I know, right?” She agreed. 

The two turned around to get a look at what the ocean boy just had to see.

It was Lo’ak riding ilu for the first time. The creature swam off at a speed that Ä’amai did not expect. Her baby brother was quickly thrown off with ridiculing laughter following. Lo’ak reappeared above the water, the ilu squawking in his face and everyone laughing at him. Ä’amai cringed. She doesn’t think her first ride will go much better than that.

“Are you okay, Lo’ak?” She asked, taking one of his hands. 

Lo’ak shrugged her off, “Yeah, I’m good.”

“You sure, bro?” Neteyam questioned further.

“ Yes, yes . I’m fine . Stop worrying already!” 

From the direction of the bozos (Aonung’s friends), another round of mocking laughter erupted. All three siblings looked up,

“Yo,” the one with long hair said, “you mated to your sister, or what?” The group burst out laughing. 

What ? Mated to your… the twins looked down, oh .

The twins blushed at the misunderstanding and quickly disconnected themselves. When did that even happen? Unless they were under stress, they hardly ever noticed when it happened. It was just so normal. For them, at least. 

“Ha! So even those two are freaks, just like the—”

“Stop this! It is immature and rude.” Tsireya stepped to their defense, “Although,” she got shy for a moment, fiddling with her fingers, “why did that happen?” 

Coming from Tsireya, the question was innocent. The twins could understand the curiosity. They knew it was strange.

“We’re twins,” they said simply. It was truly the only explanation. 

“From before we were born, we’ve been connected. It was a constant when we were babies.” Ä’amai explained.

“Yeah, and now it just happens. It’s normal for us.” Neteyam continued.

“Oh, I see. I’ve never met twins before. Is that why your stripes and tanhí are the same too?” 

“Exactly.” They nodded. 

Tsireya scanned them with curiosity as if trying to find the tiniest of differences in their identical stripes and freckles,

“May I ask one more question?” 

“Of course.” They were happy to respond to any— as long as they were respectful.

“When you arrived yesterday, I noticed you two were wearing extra clothes. Uh, there were bands around your waists, something on your heads, and uh— Ä’amai, you had stuff all over your legs, and Neteyam, you had something on your shins.” Tsireya rambled, “What was that for? Why so much?”

Tsireya referred to their cummberbunds, visors, and riding gear. The twins gained prideful smiles for a moment, 

“Ah, they represent a complete iknimaya,” Ä’amai answered.

Tsireya’s eyes went wide, “Complete? When?”

“A year ago, when we were fourteen,” Neteyam stated proudly. 

Lo’ak groaned, “Yeah, we get it. You guys were the youngest to fully complete the Rites of Passage.” 

“Well, you have to admit it is impressive!” Tsireya said, “I don’t think we’ve had anyone that young pass, and I’ve heard the final rite for Omaticaya can be especially difficult.”

The twins were used to this sort of reaction from people outside the clan when they told them about their accomplishments. Yes, Neteyam and Ä’amai had passed their iknimayas earlier than anyone else had before. When the time came to celebrate the people who had gotten through the trials, the twins had gotten recognized. They were brought to the center of the clan, and Mother bestowed wood from the original Hometree upon them. It was once tradition for newly christened adults of the clan to pluck material from the grand tree to make their adult bows from. After the fall of Hometree and the great battle, Mother had gone back, dug through layers of ash, and collected salvageable material specifically for this moment. By handing them that wood, Mom entrusted the twins to fight and protect their family and the clan. The twins proudly accepted the responsibility and spent weeks developing and practicing the perfect designs and techniques. When they finished, they presented the bows to their mother, whose eyes had glistened with tears.

Metkayina did not even use bows .

Now, they were in a place where those skills were utterly useless. 

But it was fine. 

They would learn and adapt. 

“Whatever, the forest clans and literally everyone else would sing their praises enough.” Lo’ak’s annoyed voice said. 

“Ha, you sound jealous, forest boy—” 

“A’te enough!” Tsireya said, irritated, “Aonung, tell your friends to go along now. We are teaching.” 

Aonung, who was currently staring right at her, looked to his friends and waved them off.

“Fine,” Aonung made his way over, “let’s get you two on an ilu and get this over with.” He sighed and looked around, “Where is that— oh —give it here,” he said, expectedly holding his hand out to Ä’amai. She handed the ilu’s tswin, “Okay, you first forest boy.”

Ä’amai fought the urge to roll her eyes. Not very creative with the nicknames, are they? 

Neteyam mounted the ilu and made the bond, his eyes going wide. 

“ Easy, ” Aonung said, “goodness, you ride those sky beasts and yet panic with ilu?” Aonung made an agitated noise, “Look, he is going to dive, so be prepared and take a breath. He will go fast, and you must be prepared. Ilu likes to play, so remember that he is not trying to throw you off but to see if you can keep up. Got it?” 

Aonung spoke fast, but regardless, Neteyam nodded in understanding,

“Yes,”

“Go,” without missing a beat, Aonung let go of the ilu. 

Neteyam, unfortunately, was not able to take a breath fast enough. When he opened his mouth to inhale, the ilu went under. It was surprising that he managed to stay on for more than a second when his lungs were surely filling with water. Eventually, it became too much, and he let go. 

“Gah!” Neteyam exclaimed, breaking free from the water. 

“You okay?” Ä’amai asked. Neteyam gave her an affirming hum.

Aonung, their teacher, said nothing and instead went to call the ilu back,

“Your turn— uh,” he forgot her name. Of course, he did. 

“Ä’amai,” she provided.

“Whatever, just get on.”

Ä’amai mounted the ilu, its smooth, wet skin feeling foreign to her.   

“ Ugh ,” Aonung groaned from beside her.

“What?” Ä’amai questioned, “If I am doing something wrong, please , teach me. So I may do it correctly.”

“You are sitting on the ilu wrong, that’s what.” 

She was? She was straddling the saddle the same way her brother was doing only moments ago. However, she decided to stay quiet. Aonung knew best here, after all.

“I see,” she said, “how is it done?” 

“Hips forward, back angled— but straight —and look straight ahead.”

Ä’amai didn’t see how that was any different from how she was already sitting. When she didn’t move, Aonung sighed yet again,

“Just let me do it,” he said, “I swear, I do not know how I am meant to teach you tree swingers anything. I mean, look at you two. You are too small. Your arms and legs are too small, and your tails are definitely too small. Your everything is too small compared to Metkayina. How are you even meant to swim at all?”

Ä’amai rolled her eyes at Aonung’s tantrum. Ewya, he was like a child. She’d like to see him climb trees. 

Mai moved to get off the ilu so Aonung could show her how to do it, but she was stopped by Aonung’s large hands grabbing her waist. Ä’amai froze, not prepared for him actually to touch her. 

“ Wow , your waist is very small,” he muttered, seemingly in shock and under his breath.

However, Ä’amai heard his words, and her face flushed with embarrassment, 

“What?”

“Nothing,” Aonung responded quickly. Ignoring what he said, the Metkayina boy shifted her forward, then back, and then slightly forward again. What exactly he was fixing, Ä’amai didn’t know. A few moments later, Aonung stopped moving her, but the hands that nearly met all the way around her waist lingered. She looked at Neteyam, who looked at her back, equally confused,

“Is this alright now?” Ä’amai asked.

“Oh, uh, yes. Your positioning is fine now.” Aonung said, “Go on,” he patted the ilu’s back and let go of the tswin. 

Ä’amai took a breath and let the ilu take her underwater. The speed was not something she had properly prepared for, but she could have gotten used to it. It was the burning in her eyes and lungs that made her let go and resurface.

“Alright, again. I will get another ilu.” 

The twins, now with one ilu each, attempted again and again. 

They failed again and again . 

It was the most frustrating thing she’d ever experienced. It became even more frustrating when she would catch a glance at her younger siblings to see they had already done it and were now swimming around with Tsireya.

The sun was high in the sky when the twins finally got it. They held their breaths, held on tightly, relaxed , and let the ilu take them. The ilu must have noticed Ä’amai’s change in demeanor because it stopped moving at its break-neck speed. The little guy slowed down and let her guide him. Ä’amai marveled at the reef around her. She didn’t know if it was the ilu’s effect, but she felt like seeing the reef for the first time again— through an entirely different lens.

Bubbles escaped her suddenly as she felt a bump on her back. She turned around to see Neteyam’s playful smile. She returned the gesture, and they grinned with a mixture of pride and relief. They circled each other, using their newfound control of the ilus. Ä’amai was having so much fun she almost forgot she needed air. She ended up being reminded when she choked on bubbles, and then Neteyam laughed at her (he choked on bubbles, too). They floated back up, the ilu seemingly confused as to why they were going up so soon.

“Took you guys long enough,” Aonung, of course, had to dampen the mood with his exasperated voice, “but there, you can ride. Now you need to learn how to stay under for longer than two seconds.” 

“It seemed easier with ilu,” Ä’amai commented, “being underwater, I mean.” 

“Of course it was. They were helping you,” he answered, “After they realized you were not total chumps, they helped you. Like I said, they like to play— and not always gently.”

“Well, thank you for taking the time to teach us properly. We are very grateful.” Neteyam said, sitting on his ilu. He looked around for a minute, “Mai, I haven’t seen Lo’ak or the others in a while.” 

“Last I saw, they were swimming with Tsireya on ilu. Tuk looked like she was having fun.” Ä’amai said, also realizing she hadn’t seen or heard them.

“Yeah, same here. Where could they have gone?”

“I’m not sure. Should we go—” 

“ Wow ,” Aonung interrupted them, “it’s like you guys are their parents or something.” They turned sharply towards him, “Look, I am sure they are fine, but if it makes you guys feel better, they are likely with my sister.” Ä’amai and Neteyam shared a glance, “ Fine , but can’t only one of you go? Then the other can move on— better yet —that one can just stay with your brother and Tsireya. It looked like your sisters were doing just fine. Then, I will only have one student. Everybody wins.”

The twins ended up responding with jumbled nonsense at the same time, 

“Well, I— uh — we ,” they scrambled, trying to come up with a good argument to prevent from splitting up.

“Sounds like a yes to me. Good,” he said, “you.” Aonung, pointing at Neteyam, said, “Go find your brother and stay with him. My sister will teach you to breathe.”

Neteyam nodded hesitantly, “Alright then,” he turned towards Ä’amai, “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

Ä’amai watched Neteyam walk away with reluctance in every step he took, with a strange feeling building up inside her. 

Before they left home, the twins had talked and talked for hours every night. In every conversation, they talked about change, but it always ended with them swearing that they, themselves, would not change. Yet, here they were— training separately. They had never done that before. What else was going to change? Next thing she knew—

“Hey,” Aonung stopped her from spiraling, “forest girl. Focus, will you? You act like he’s attached to you. Well,” he snorted, “I guess he was —”

“Alright, I get it.” Ä’amai cut him off before straightening out, “Sorry, that was rude. Can we just move on?”

There was an awkward pause between the two,

“Right, uh, breathing. Show me how you breathe.” Aonung instructed. 

Confused, Ä’amai took a deep breath through her nose and out her mouth. Aonung shook his head and pinched his nose bridge in response,

“ No , show me how you take a breath before diving.”

Ä’amai nodded and opened her mouth wide to take a deep breath,

“ Wrong, ” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“The way you breathe. It is wrong.” Aonung said, explaining nothing.

“Care to explain?” 

“When you took a breath, your chest inflated. That is wrong. When you breathe through here,” Aonung tapped his chest, “you run out of air faster. Your heart also tightens itself and ends up beating faster. Instead, breathe through here ,” he rubbed his stomach in small circles, “not only do you take in more air, but your muscles relax, and your heart slows. This makes it easier to stay under.” 

For some reason, Aonung’s voice was uncharacteristically soft when he finished the small speech. Ä’amai sat there briefly, floating with the ilu, while Aonung swam out and sat in the sand. The part where your bottom would get slightly submerged when the waves gently rolled in. He motioned for her to sit next to him. Still, Ä’amai didn’t know what to think of this sudden change in attitude, but it was not like she could argue with him. So, she listened and went to sit, feeling the water brush up against her periodically. She closed her eyes and listened to the calm sounds of the now-secluded area they found themselves in. 

“You got it,” Aonung said, his voice soft. If he hadn’t spoken to her in that way only moments before, Ä’amai would not have even known that it was him. She opened her eyes, embarrassed that she had been caught in a daze. Aonung was now leaning back on his palms, looking right at her, “Try it again.”

The thing was, Ä’amai had no idea what she did, but she tried to recreate it regardless. Parting her lips slightly, she sucked in some air. 

“No, no, no— you’re breathing through your chest again.”

Ä’amai huffed,

“Hey, don’t get annoyed. It is not my fault. Just– here, look.” Aonung reached over and placed one hand on her heart and the other on her stomach, “Now breathe. Remember what you felt sitting in the water. The waves rolling onto you, the soft breeze in your face, and relax . You are too tense, forest girl. Slow down your heart.”

Ä’amai closed her eyes and took a couple of breaths before taking one continuous one and holding it. She opened her eyes, quickly widening them. Aonung was looking her directly in the eye, his position making it so he had to look up at her through hooded eyes,

“See, easy, right?” Aonung said, pulling away. 

She let the breath go and nodded while smiling slightly. She was getting it!

“Here, breathe with me.” Aonung took her hands and put one on his heart and the other on his stomach. Recreating how they’d just been but in reverse. Then, he put his hands back on her. They sat, criss-crossed and facing each other. 

Ä’amai doesn’t know how long she sat there with her eyes closed, breathing in time with the boy she had called annoying and rude only hours ago. She didn’t come back to reality until she noticed something rather unusual. Her face twitched in confusion,

“Aonung, I thought you said breathing like this was supposed to slow the heart down?”

“It is.”

“Then, why is yours going so fast?” Aonung’s heart was beating rapidly under her hands, and it only seemed to worsen when she pointed it out. 

“It is not,” he defended.

“Aonung,” she deadpanned, eyes still closed, “I can feel it.” Ä’amai finally opened her eyes, “Are you feeling alright? The heart isn’t something that should be taken lightly. Should I take you to see your mother?” 

The boy stood abruptly, “No, that is not necessary. You know, I just remembered my father wanted to see me at this time. Why do you not go find your siblings?”

“But I thought your father ordered you to—”

“He told me this morning.”

“Oh, alright,” she said, “then you should go.”

“Yup,” he began to walk off before swiveling around, “before sunset, come back here.”

“For what?” 

“To finish the lesson.”

“You just said I got it, though?” 

“Yeah, but we have to put it to use on the ilu.” 

“But if I’m going to your sister, could I not just work on that with her?” 

Aonung wasn’t listening, though. He was already walking away. He waved his arm out, “Before sunset!” And that was that.

Seriously, what was up with that guy? First, he was rude and dismissive, then he was gentle and kind, and now he’s dismissive and vague.

Call it paranoia, but, Ä'amai was sure something was up with that guy. 

Chapter Text

When Ä’amai finally found her siblings, they were in the marui eating some sort of dried meat. Tsireya and Roxto were there as well. 

“Mai!” Tuk exclaimed, jumping into her arms, “You’re back!”

“Ah, Tuk-Tuk, did you have fun today?”

“Yeah, tons! Tsireya is a really good teacher!” 

The girl mentioned laughed, “Well, you have been an amazing student, Tuk! You have all been wonderful! Come, Mai, have something to eat.” 

Ä’amai sat between Neteyam and Kiri. Tuk escaped her grasp and went to Kiri’s lap instead. Tsireya handed Mai a piece of the dried meat. Ä’amai observed it. It was slightly rubbery,

“It is fish jerky. Roxto made it a few days ago.” Tsireya sat beside Lo’ak, “So, tell me, how was your day with my brother?”

The twins glanced at each other, both having spent most of their day with the Olo’eyktan’s son. Neteyam began,

“He is a good teacher. We took a little longer to get the hang of things, but that is not his fault. It is on us.” He explained.

“Oh, good. I am glad it went well. I know that sometimes my brother can come across as rude, but really, he is only that way around his idiotic friends. Only Ewya knows why. Other than that, he is quite sweet.” Tsireya told them before turning her attention to Ä’amai specifically, “Did my brother say anything to you before he sent you off?”

Ä’amai swallowed the salty jerky, “He only said to meet him again before sunset. To work on mixing breathing techniques and riding ilu.”

“Hm, well, we can work on that right now. So do not worry about falling behind. Though, I would still go meet him. My brother tends to get annoyed very easily when he does not get his way.” Tsireya giggled when Roxto nodded quickly in agreement. 

When the rest of the group dissolved into separate conversations, Ä’amai and Neteyam secluded themselves from them. They sat outside, on the edge of the bridge outside the marui. Their feet were dangling, and from their point of view, the twins could see Mother going through her own trials.

Ronal had taken to teaching their mother. Ä’amai couldn’t imagine that was going well. At the sight of their frustrated mother constantly being thrown off the ilu, the twins winced, 

“Poor Mom,” Neteyam said.

“We should go flying with her,” Ä’amai suggested, “It would clear her mind.”

“Yeah, she’d like that.”

The kids watched their mother fail time and time again until the two women sat on the rock and conversed. When they finished, Mom made several high-pitched noises that called her ikran to her. The ikran flapped its way onto the rock next to Mom, and Ronal handed her a spear. She flew up high, and after a series of maneuvers, Mom dove into the water, the ikran following her. Mom emerged from the water and hopped on the ikran again, victorious with the fish on the spear. Even Ronal appeared pleased. 

“That was so cool,” Ä’amai said in awe.

“I know, right? Hey,” Neteyam turned to her, “I bet you could do that with Tawng. You know how she loves to dive, especially in the water.”

“Psh, please, if I actually tell Tawng to dive in the water, she’ll go down before I can even breathe. She’d go down with such speed and excitement that I would not even get a chance to prepare.” Ä’amai laughed. 

“Do not sell yourself short, ma’tsmuke. All you’ll need is a bit of practice.” 

“Okay, I will admit it sounds fun,” she thought about it before she resigned to hold her head in her hands, “but I need to master ilu first.” Ä’amai sighed.

“Yes, yes, you do.”

She turned to look at her twin quickly, “What happened to the encouragement?” Neteyam only responded by fighting his laughter, “Last I checked, we were in the same boat when it came to all this.” 

Playfully, Ä’amai used her body to push her twin. Neteyam faked an offended gasp,

“Oh, so it’s like that?” He shoved her back a bit harder.

The twins continued the immature shoving match until,

“Wah!” Ä’amai was accidentally launched into the water. Above, Neteyam laughed and pointed like a child. Obviously, Ä’amai did the mature thing; she grabbed his ankle and pulled him down. 

Ä’amai cherished these moments where the twins could let down their hair and relax. Times when no one was looking at them to be strong. 

Soon enough, the high sun dipped down, and the tides rode up the beach. The kids had all had a wonderful day. Kiri got to meet new creatures (yes, meet — she befriended them, of course), Tuk saw baby Ilu, and Lo’ak got to spend the whole day with a pretty girl who laughed at all his jokes. Even Neteyam and Ä’amai found joy in learning to spearfish. Of course, they also practiced diving and ilu riding some more. Hopefully, Mai’s skills were satisfactory enough for Aonung. 

The Sully kids, plus Tsireya and Roxto, were sitting in the high tide, laughing like old friends. Roxto was in the middle of telling the tale of how an ilu had apparently tried to eat him when he was ten.

Tsireya rolled her eyes, “Roxto, the ilu did not try to eat you.”

“It had my arm in its mouth!” 

“He was only trying to save you from going beyond the reef.” 

Roxto scoffed and crossed his arm, “you were barely old enough to swim on your own. How would you know?”

Before Tsireya could retort, Aonung’s voice made itself known,

“Hey, Mai! You are late!”

Lo’ak glared in Aonung’s direction while Kiri looked at her older sister through raised eyebrows,

“ Mai? ” Kiri whispered. Ä’amai shrugged with a confused look. She hadn’t told Aonung about her little nickname. Kiri responded with a teasing eyebrow wag,

“Stop.” Ä’amai whisper-yelled and pinched her arm.

“Hey, what was that for?” Kiri said, still whispering.

Ä’amai merely glared at her sister, who snickered, before turning to Aonung,

“Oh, I apologize. I must have lost track of the hours.”

“Whatever, let’s just go.”

Ä’amai said goodbye to everyone and then walked off, trailing behind Aonung. He led her back to the sandy clearing they were sitting at earlier and called over two ilu, giving her a handle. 

Okay. She could not lie. 

The silence was awkward. Ä’amai took the handle,

“So, how did the talk with your father go?” Ä’amai asked slowly.

“Hm?” Aonung said before shaking his head and waving off, “Ah, it was nothing. Do not worry about it.” He hopped on the ilu, “Come on, let’s go.”

Confused, Ä’amai said, “Go where?”

“You practiced riding with my sister, yes?” Ä’amai nodded, “Well then, let’s go.” Aonung wasn’t offering any form of explanation, “Relax, forest girl. Not every lesson needs to be straightforward. Sometimes you just need to… go with the flow . Be like the ocean,” he threw his head back in laughter, “it’s the way of the water, Ma’Mai!” Aonung dove into the water.

Ä’amai was momentarily stunned. Just who was he calling, ‘Ma’Mai’? Whatever. 

Still, one question lingered in the back of her mind. 

What the hell was the way of water?

She would ask him later. For now, Ä’amai had to keep up. So, using her newfound riding skills, Ä’amai connected to the ilu and went under. Surprisingly, Aonung was down there waiting for her, or he just got distracted looking at the coral. Ä’amai swam down and tapped him. Once he saw her, Aonung motioned for her to follow. 

Aonung and Ä’amai swam around the reef, not really doing much of anything. He matched her speed and she couldn’t help but smile at this. Ä’amai knew that he was capable of going much faster. When Ä’amai needed to take a breath, he followed. 

Was this truly the same boy she had met yesterday? The same boy she had interacted with this morning?” 

“I want to show you something,” Aonung said on a breath break, “but we need to ditch the ilu.”

Ä’amai nodded. They both dismounted their rides and sent them off, leaving the two of them to tread the water. For Aonung, it was likely as easy as breathing, while Ä’amai had to physically remind her legs to keep moving. Sinking would be embarrassing. 

“Below us,” Aonung began, “are shells hidden under the sand. I want you to try to dive and get one. It is not too deep, so I believe that you can do it.”

“Alright, I will do my best.” Taking a deep breath, Ä’amai dove down. Aonung was right; it was not too deep, but it was her longest consecutive dove without an ilu. By the time her fingertips touched the sand, her lungs were already burning. Ä’amai ignored it, though she was determined to complete her given task. 

Fighting against suffocation, she grabbed a small pink shell fragment and swam up as quickly as she could. Ä’amai broke through the water with a gasp, “I got it!” 

“It is so small,” the Metkayina boy commented. Ä’amai turned sharply and glared at him.

(Unknown to her, Ä’amai was not glaring at all. In fact, her brow furrowed, but her eyes widened, and her mouth formed a frown. It was adorable.)

Aonung flinched.

Good.

“I mean, it is fine. It is… cute.” Ä’amai sighed. It was better than nothing, “Let’s go back to the beach.”

The two swam back, sitting on the sand. Ä’amai examined the fragment in her hand. It was pink and had the tiniest white speckles. It was pretty small. 

“What are you going to do with it?” Aonung asked her. 

“I’m thinking about a bracelet for Tuk. Something small. I just need string.” Aonung looked like he wanted to ask her something, “It’s her favorite color.” The boy in front of her still looked lost, “ Tuk’s favorite. Tuk. My baby sister—”

“I know who Tuk is,” he snapped.

“Then why do you look so confused, fishbrain ?” See, Ä’amai could do the nicknames too— and honestly —she was sick of the personality switches, “I am going to make a bracelet . That is for my sister .” She explained it to him like he was five.

“For goodness sake, would you just tell me what in Ewya’s name is a bracelet?”

Ä’amai blinked. 

Then, she looked at her wrists.

Then she looked at Aonung’s. 

Then, she couldn’t help it.

Ä’amai burst out laughing while Aonung flushed and sputtered. 

Of course. 

Of course, he did not know what a bracelet was! Reef Na’vi’s wrists were much too broad to support that sort of jewelry. 

“ Hey, forest girl! Quit that!”

Ä’amai did her best to control the laughter. Suppressing her fit into the smallest giggles she could manage, Ä’amai held up her wrist, which had a wrap-around twine bracelet.

“This,” she contained herself at last, “is a bracelet.”

Aonung tried to look at his own hands subtly and then at hers. He made a small noise and changed the subject, 

“ Anyways , I wanted to begin to teach you sign language. The way that Metkayina communicate in the water.” He said quickly.

Ä’amai looked to the sky. The sun was setting lower. Eclipse was drawing near. Regardless, Aonung had yet to release her from the lesson, and Ä’amai was nothing if not a good student. For a while, Aonung taught her the basics. She now knew how to sign the words “Hello,” “Goodbye,” “Come on,” and more. 

“Alright, I will leave you with one exercise. This is something we learn as children. It is one of, if not the very first, lesson we learn. We live by this mantra. It is our way of life. It is the way of water. Watch, and most importantly, listen closely.”

“I am ready.”

Aonung began,

“The way of water has no beginning and no end.”

The boy moved and spoke slowly, allowing Ä’amai to repeat his words and copy his hands,

“The sea is your home.

Before your birth.

And after your death.

Our hearts beat in the womb of the world.

Our breath burns in the shallows of the deep.

The sea gives, and the sea takes.

Water connects all things—

Life to death, darkness to light.”

It was beautiful. The saying and the motions that accompanied it. It was truly like art, like a song only spoken. Even though Ä’amai was sure she had messed up a few motions, Aonung said nothing. When Ä’amai looked up from her hands, she saw Aonung staring right at her (something she had noticed the boy did often), but this time his gaze staggered when she met it. 

“The way of water,” she breathed out.

“You got it, forest girl,” Aonung said softly.

Ä’amai smiled and fiddled with her fingers, “Is there anything else—”

“Mai! Mai, are you here?” Neteyam’s frantic voice interrupted her. He saw her and sighed in relief, “Oh, thank goodness, you are still here. Are you not hungry, sister? It is late.”

“Oh, yes, but Aonung has yet to release me.”

Neteyam seems to understand, but Aonung coughs and gets up.

“You are done for the day. Practice signing, and, uh, you did well.” 

And just like that, Aonung walked away, not even sparing her a glance. 

Ä’amai rolled her eyes and stood. The twins made their way back to the marui.

“Do you think Tuk would like a new bracelet?” The girl said, holding up her shell. 

“Oh, wait, that is perfect. Look what I have.” Neteyam presented white shell fragments from his pouch, “We can make her one together.”

“Ha, yes. Great minds think alike, Ma’Teyam.”

“Could not have said it better myself, Ma’Mai.”

The twins walked a few more steps in comfortable silence until Neteyam spoke again,

“So,” he began, “I take it the lesson went well.”

There was something off about his tone. When Ä’amai turned to look at him only to see a sly smile on her twin's face as he fought off giggles. She slapped her twin, 

“Neteyam, stop!” 

“What? I said nothing. I only asked if the lesson went well.” But his hands betrayed his words. Neteyam, her twin, her partner in life, her confidant, was making little kissy motions with his hands. Ä’amai felt her face heat up.

“It was nothing like that! Besides , he is immature and rude, remember?” 

“Someone is blushing,” he teased.

Ä’amai huffed and stuck out her leg to trip him (she still helped him up).

The rest of the walk was silent. Neteyam’s snickers being the only sound.

…

It was not like that!

Was it…?

No ! 

Well, to be honest, Ä’amai didn’t really know how to traverse feelings like that. Her mind was always too preoccupied to linger on such things. The only person she had ever felt… attraction towards was a young Omaticaya hunter. His name was Rai’ani, and she’d been in the same hunting party with him a few times. He was incredibly talented and also unmated, but he was also too old for her. So, those feelings are nothing more than a childish crush. 

But other than that, she does not think anyone has ever caught her eye. Especially not the cocky reef boy. I mean, just yesterday, she thought he was the oddest-looking thing she’d ever seen.

She still did. 

She did not find Aonung attractive in the slightest. No way.

Ä’amai sighed internally. She could not wait to go back to the marui, eat, and sleep the night away.

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

It had been about a month and a half since the Sullys arrived in Awa’atlu. Ä’amai didn’t particularly enjoy her time in the ocean, but she also didn’t hate it. In fact, she was improving at everything Aonung had been willing to teach her. Though, in the back of her mind, she tried not to get too attached. Ä’amai still held onto the small hope that they would return home one day. Don’t get her wrong, the people in Awa’atlu were great— she had not had any problems yet —but she longed for her home. But there was nothing she could do about that other than wait.

The days eventually fell into a routine and melted together. Neteyam and Ä’amai would wake up, get ready, make food, get the kids ready, and then head off to lessons. They would go to Aonung, and then he would send Neteyam away to Tsireya, leaving Ä’amai to train alone. It was odd to train without Neteyam, and sometimes, it felt like she was just wandering around aimlessly only to reach out to someone who wasn’t there. At least Aonung was tolerable and kind when he trained her. It made it somewhat bearable. 

Today, though, was a free day. Mainly, it was a break for their teachers, who had been dealing with their cluelessness for weeks. Luckily, a break for them meant a break for the Sully kids, too! 

Having free time for the first time in a month, the twins decided to finally make Tuk her little present. They waded to a mini island that was more like a floating bush with some sand to make the bracelet. Tsireya had shown the twins a simple Metkayina jewelry style typically used for a child’s choker. So, for about an hour, the twins were trying to recreate that. It was not too different from the Omaticaya way, but it was different enough. There was also the fact that the materials were slightly different, which made it a bit more complicated. 

Speaking of Tuk, the twins were going to bring her along on this little journey, only for her to jump out of Ä’amai’s arms and declare she was going to hang out with Mom. Well, okay then. The twins had also asked Lo’ak if he had wanted to come. He also declined. So the twins asked where he was going instead, to which he replied,

“I’m not a baby. Stop hovering.” 

Be like that, then.

Kiri was already gone by the time the twins left. Actually, they could see her from their place on the tiny island. The girl was partially submerged on her stomach in the shallow water.

“What do you think she is doing?” Ä’amai asked, accepting a white shell from Neteyam.

“Making friends with the little worms, probably.”

She laughed, “That sounds like Kiri.”

“Ah ha! Here, the last shell.”

“Wonderful,” she took the final fragment and looped it on, “Teyam, hold out your finger.” 

Neteyam did as she asked, and Ä’amai used it to tie the final knot of Tuk’s bracelet,

“Aaaaand— tada! All done!” Ä’amai clapped.

“Perfect, Tuk is gonna love it, I think.” 

Amid the twins’ peaceful laughter, they hear, 

“Hey!” 

Coming from the mainland.

They knew that voice anywhere. It was Lo’ak. The twins’ heads snapped to attention, and what they saw made them march towards the beach. 

Kiri and Lo’ak were surrounded by the idiotic Aonung and his equally idiotic friends. They were tugging Lo’ak’s arms and tail, laughing all the while.

Oh, hell no.

Neteyam beat her to it, though, and grabbed Aonung by his shoulders, roughly flipping him around. When he tried to step towards the younger ones, Ä’amai shoved him back. Hard. For a brief moment, he appeared shocked before turning his attention to Neteyam’s voice,

“You heard what she said,” he jabbed his finger against Aonung, daring him to say another word, “Leave them alone.”

Every now and then, Aonung’s eyes would flicker over to her. What did he expect her to do? No one disrespected her family. Ä’amai only glared at the taller boy. Then, one of his friends decided to open his mouth,

“Ah, big brother comes…” he trailed off when Aonung put a hand in front of his face.

“Back off. Now.” Neteyam warned, his voice steady. Aonung’s eyes wandered to her again,

“You heard him. Take yourself and your friends and step off .” Ä’amai swatted his arm for extra effect.

Aonung backed away.

“Hm.” Ä’amai nodded her head, letting Neteyam continue talking.

“Smart choice,” Neteyam said, “and from now on, we need you to respect our sister.” 

Aonung’s friend snarled at them but was again shut down by a hand. It seemed like these so-called friends were nothing more than glorified lackeys.

“Let’s go,” Neteyam said, turning Kiri around. 

Lo’ak stayed put, and so Ä’amai forcibly moved him,

“Let it go. Come one.” Ä’amai whispered and walked off.

“Bye-bye,” one of the boys tauntingly said. Ä’amai shut her eyes, knowing those boys were only trying to get a rise out of them. 

“They’re all freaks,” she heard Aonung say quietly. Ä’amai doesn’t know why the sentence coming from Aonung was more hurtful than it was annoying. Kiri winced at the words, and Ä’amai’s mouth formed a closed snarl. The boy was just as bigoted as the day the Sulls arrived. 

It was then that Ä’amai realized she could no longer hear Lo’ak trailing behind her. 

Oh no .

The siblings turned,

“Lo’ak,” the twins warned. 

“I got this, guys.” Lo’ak assured.

‘No. No, you really don’t,’ she thought, ‘please stop.’

Ä’amai watched her brother as she called himself a freak and an alien with a tight expression. No matter how many times she assured him that he was perfect or that he belonged, Lo’ak never believed her. Time and time again, she had tried, but nothing seemed to—

Oh my goodness

Lo’ak just punched Aonung. 

In the face.

Three times.

Aonung was on the floor because Lo’ak punched him .

“It’s called a punch, bitch!” The twins stood in shock, “Don’t ever touch my sister again.” Lo’ak received hisses and snarls in return. 

Aonung tackled Lo’ak and used his bigger size to keep him down. But Lo’ak did not go down easy (he also had the advantage of knowing how to fight), and her baby brother advanced on the larger boy. Punch after punch, Lo’ak kept Aonung down. Realizing their leader was losing, the other boys joined in. They pulled his tail and slapped him with theirs.

Ugh , and they were doing so well with not causing trouble.

Oh well. 

Dad’s gonna be so pissed , was her last thought before she and Neteyam sprung into the fight. 

Neteyam took the two on the left, and Ä’amai took the two on the right. One was on the ground, and the other was standing. She grabbed hold of their tswins and shoved them down. The move was dirty but effective. When they moved to stand, she only kicked them down again. One scrambled to get away, but before she could, a boy turned her around and hit her in the mouth. She could taste blood. 

Dick , she thought as she head-butted him and kneed his stomach. He brought her down with him, though. She supposed his larger size wasn’t completely useless. 

She could hear one of the boys Lo’ak was fighting cry out about his ear from the side. Even though she was preoccupied with the heavy Metkayina boy (honestly, he wasn’t putting up much of a fight), Ä’amai couldn’t help but laugh.

Ewya , this fight was so stupid. Unlucky for the Sully kids, though, it was ended by Toruk Makto himself.

“What the hell are you guys doing?” Ä’amai froze at her father’s angry shout. However, by freezing, the Metkayina boy got a lucky shot to the side of her face.

“All of you, stop that!” The kids pulled apart, even the Metkayina shrinking into themselves, “You three, get here! Now.” Lo’ak, Neteyam, and Ä’amai scrambled to their father’s side. Father turned them around to face Aonung (whose injured face had her fighting off a snort) and forced their heads to bow, “I apologize for their actions today. Please, go get patched up. This won’t happen again.”

The boys scattered. Not even they dared to argue with Toruk Makto. Dad let go of their heads and pulled Kiri into a side hug,

“You okay, baby girl?” Dad’s voice was suddenly gentle. Kiri grumbled a response, “Alright, good, go find your mother, yeah?” He kissed Kiri’s head and sent her off. 

Ä’amai ignored the jealous pang in her heart.

Dad turned to the three with fire in his eyes, 

“Start moving. Go,” Dad’s voice was dangerously calm. The kids moved fast.

Once they entered the marui, Dad didn’t waste a second,

“What was the one thing I asked? The one thing!”

Looking anywhere but at him, the three murmured, “Stay out of trouble.” 

“It’s our fault.”

“We should’ve stopped it.”

The twins spoke over each other and tried to take the blame. Dad stopped them,

“I don’t think so. You two gotta stop takin’ the heat for this knucklehead.” 

“Look, Dad.” Lo’ak interrupted, “Aonung was picking on Kiri. He called her a freak.” 

Their father sighed, and his mouth twitched as if he were holding something back. Ä’amai knew that under normal circumstances, he would have said something. He had done it before, but that was back home when he could afford to speak out. 

“Go apologize to Aonung,” Dad said firmly.

“What?” 

Oh, please, just do it, she thought. She knew Aonung didn’t deserve it, but he was Olo’eyktan’s son, so they kind of had to. 

“He is the chief’s son. Do you understand? I don’t care how you do it. Just go make peace. Just go.” Dad dismissed Lo’ak, who begrudgingly left. The twins also moved to leave, “Hey,” they turned, “so what’d the other guys look like?”

The twins looked at each other. Was this a trap? Ä’amai shrugged,

“Worse,” Neteyam mumbled.

“That’s good,” Dad nodded in approval, “Wasn’t too sure from my angle.”

The twin’s grinned,

“A lot worse.”

Dad smirked before returning to a serious expression, “Get outta here,” but even he could not hide how his voice got lighter. Still, the twins did not want to push it, so they left.

Initially, Ä’amai and Neteyam were searching for the boys so they could apologize, but Tsireya found them instead.

“Ah! Neteyam, Ä’amai, are you two okay?” Tsireay frantically looked the twins over.

“Yes, Tsireya, we are fine. How are your brother and his friends?” Neteyam asked.

Tsireya rolled her eyes, which looked odd on her kind face, “They are fine. I apologize for this. Come, I will take you to my mother.” She grabbed their hands and dragged them to Tsahik. She wasn’t someone they particularly wanted to see after beating her son.

“No, no, it is okay. It’s only bruises. Besides, Lo’ak threw the first punch. So, really, it is on us.” Ä’amai rambled.

“Your hands and face are also bleeding. Also, Lo’ak told me what my brother and those boys were saying and doing. They should know better, and you two were only protecting your brother. It was the honorable thing to do.” Tsireya continued to drag them.

Ä’amai bit her tongue, not telling Tsireya that she’d wanted to deck those boys since their first day.

“Mother! I am going to help the Suli twins with their wounds.” Tsireya announced.

“Daughter, not so loud. I am right here.” Ronal said gently to her child. 

Since they’d arrived, Ronal’s pregnancy had progressed. However, that did not make her any less intimidating when she looked down on them.

“Oel ngati kamie, Tsahik Ronal.” The twins greeted.

“Hm,” was all she said.

“We apologize for any trouble we may have caused,” Ä’amai said. 

“Do you need anything from us? We would be happy to do any task.” Neteyam followed.

Tsahik looked them up and down, “I am in need of paywll pods from high in the jungle trees. You two will assist me in getting them, yes?”

“Of course, Tsahik.” The twins agreed even tho they knew paywll to grow near water in a short form. It likely just grew different here.

“Hm,” the woman said again, “and how is your weaving?” 

“Adequate.”

“Make a small basket for the trip. Tsireya will show you how Metkayina do it.” With that, Ronal left.

Ä’amai is almost entirely certain that Tsireya just wanted people to practice healing techniques. That would make sense. She was Tsakarem, but she was also very obviously new to it. It was alright, though. She was pretty young. However, the amaturely wrapped hands with too much salve made weaving slightly tricky for the twins. 

“Then you take the long blue string and connect the bottom like this,” Tsireya instructed.

“Hello, my daughter.” A new voice said from the marui’s entrance. It was Olo’eyktan, and trailing behind him, was his son.

“Oel ngati kameie, Olo’eyktan Tonowari.” The twins greeted, “Oel ngati kameie, Aonung, son of Olo’eyktan.” That one came out through tighter voices.

“Ah, yes, Ä’amai and Neteyam. Just the two I was searching for.” Ä’amai swears her heart dropped to her stomach. She had a feeling they had gotten out of this much too easily.

“Oh, yes, we wanted to apologize for our actions. It was immature of us to go into a fight over petty words.” She scrambled to apologize.

“Yes, we can assure you it will not happen again, sir,” Neteyam said for good measure.

“Thank you; that is most noble of you both. However,” the twins sat up impossibly straighter, “that is not why I am here.”

They exchanged glances,

“Did you need something from us, sir?”

“No, no,” he waved the question off, “it has come to my attention that my son and his companions have not been the most welcoming. As a future Olo’eyktan, my son should know better. And you two were once in that same position, meaning, you understand.” Tonowari said, his voice steady and calm.

“Yes, sir, of course we do.” The twins replied. 

It was true an Olo’eyktan had to meet with all types of Na’vi, and hostility was only ever met with more hostility.

“Alright, that is what I thought. You two sound like children who follow the things they are taught. Aonung, do you have something to say?” Tonowari pushed his son’s head up so he could look at the twins. Once again, the look-alikes used all their willpower not to snort at Aonung’s battered face. 

Aonung sighed. It appeared as if apologizing physically pained him,

“Ä’amai and Neteyam, I deeply apologize for calling your siblings rude names. They deserve to be respected as Na’vi as they are Na’vi. I ask your forgiveness.”

Well.

That did not sound rehearsed at all.

“We accept your apology,” Ä’amai said.

“Yes, and we wish to extend one to you as well.” Neteyam followed. 

“We would also like to apologize on behalf of our brother. He should not have hit you.”

“We can assure you that his actions do not reflect on our family.”

During this apology, Aonung looked anywhere but the twins. Specifically, when they mentioned Lo’ak, Ä’amai could not understand why. Perhaps he was embarrassed to have been beaten so badly by an outsider of the clan. 

“Uhm, it is fine. Lo’ak has already apologized. I and the others have accepted. All is well.” Aonung choked out. 

Tonowari hummed approvingly,

“Wonderful. Daughter, why don’t you tend to your brother as you have so skillfully tended to the twins.” Tonowari said.

Tsireya sighed, “Well since he apologized for being a skxawng, I suppose I could. Come, brother.”

Aonung winced, likely knowing how his sister handled injuries. The twins glanced at the Olo’eyktan, who coughed to hide a smile. 

Ah , so he knew as well. This was punishment for Aonung, not Tsireya. 

The twins allowed themselves small smiles at Aonung’s inconvenience. 

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

Ronal was very obviously trying to run the twins thin in the jungle. The Tsahik had them trailing up and down trees non-stop. They collected leaves, pods, pulled roots from the ground, and more. 

But honestly. 

The twins were ecstatic.  

It felt like a weight was lifted off their chest, and their steps had a slight bounce.

So, the twins happily followed a slightly annoyed Ronal, holding the supplies they collected. 

They took the plants to the tsahik’s tent and organized them the way the woman liked. They said their goodbyes and moved to leave, but Ronal caught them. Well, she caught Ä’amai,

“You, girl, come,” Ä’amai faced Ronal, “here. My son asked me to give you this. He said you would understand its meaning.”

Ronal dismissed them, and Ä’amai observed the item she handed her

“What is it?” Neteyam asked. 

“It is… a shell.” Ä’amai said slowly, “From where he took me diving. Does he want me to meet him there again?” 

“Someone has a not-so-secret admirer,” Neteyam said, touching her shell. Ä’amai swatted him, “What? How else can you explain this? Also, he is always staring at you. Have you not noticed?” 

“Of course I have. It is so annoying. Either way, I can not go. We have to go check on Lo’ak and the others.”

“No, ma’tsmuke, you should go. I will go with Kiri and Tuk, and then we can look for Lo’ak together. It will be fine. Go see what that skxawng wants.” Neteyam laughed at her unwilling face and clapped her back, “Just go. How bad can it be?” Neteyam walked off. 

“Yes, laugh at my misery, traitor!” Ä’amai groaned. It’s alright. She was the mighty Ä’amai. First-born daughter of Toruk Makto. The once-future Olo’eykte of the Omaticaya. She could go on. 

Ä’amai could handle a touchy Metkayina boy with a staring problem. Besides, if it came down to it— it wasn’t like he was much of a fighter. Aonung was nothing. 

Nothing.  

Chapter Text

Ä’amai arrived at the sandy clearing as the sun was beginning to set.

…

There was no one there.

Why was there no one there?

Was she being pranked? Aonung better not be duping her.

Ä’amai’s thoughts raced with subtle ways she’d get Aonung back until she saw a familiar head pop out of the water.

“Mai!” Aonung said.

She made a face, “That is not my name—” she tried to say, but Aonung went back under.

“Hello, Mai. I did not think you would come.” An oddly giddy Aonung said.

Ä’amai took a deep breath and plastered a smile on her face. “Did you need something?”

“No, uh, I was hoping we could talk.” He said awkwardly.

Okay, she didn’t have time for these antics.

“Why are you acting this way?” She said, trying to sound as civil as possible.

“What way?” Aonung shook his head, “Whatever, look, have a seat.” He gestured towards the sand. Ä’amai sighed and sat, “I simply wanted to apologize to you personally.” 

“The people you should be giving personal apologies to are Kiri and Lo’ak, not me.” 

“I already have. I just wanted to reiterate how sorry I am. I should not have called you and your family freaks. It was wrong.” Aonung told her.

“I have already said it is fine. Just make sure it never happens again.”

“It will not,” Ä’amai nodded at this and moved to get up, but Aonung stopped her, “but enough of that. Uh, here you go.” Aonung handed her a white shell, “For Tuk’s bracelet.” The boy pronounced every syllable in the word. 

Ä’amai smiled softly, “Neteyam and I already made it.” 

“Oh, well, then perhaps you can put it on that top of yours with the beads. You wore it the day you arrived.” Aonung suggested. 

She thought about it, “You know, that is not a bad idea. Only, perhaps I can make a whole new one instead. I will ask Neteyam to assist me with it.”

“You make your own clothing?”

“Yes, of course. All Omaticaya do. Do you not?” Ä’amai questioned.

“Well, I make accessories, but Tsireya and my mom make my clothes.”

“Oh, how sweet. Yeah, no, Neteyam and I make our own clothing.” 

“You and Neteyam?” Aonung snorted. 

“Yes,” she said, ignoring the teasing tone, “he actually made me these beads.” Ä’amai 

showed off the orange and blue beads in her hair.

“Sounds like you two do everything together,” Aonung said sarcastically. 

Ä’amai looked at him with a blank expression. “We do,” she said seriously.

“Oh,” Aonung’s eyes widened, “well, there is nothing wrong with that.”

Aonung continued to ramble on about nonsense, but Ä’amai let her mind wander. She took to writing letters in the sand. When would this boy stop talking?

“Hey, Mai,” Aonung said.

“Hm?” She said, not looking away from her writing. 

“ Mai, ” he repeated. She snapped her head up. “What are you doing?”

She looked at him through the sides of her eyes, “Writing ‘ìnglìsì letters. Humans take these letters, put them together, and that is how they communicate with one another.” Ä’amai explained, “Well, it is how humans who speak ‘ìnglìsì send messages. ‘Rrta has hundreds of languages.”

“What would they need so many for?”

“Who knows? It is just how humans are.” A thought popped into her head, “Do you want to see something?” 

“Uh, sure,” Aonung said dumbly.

Slowly, Ä’amai wrote her name into the sand. 

“There, it is my name. Eh – Ah – Mah – Ee .” She pointed to the letters as she sounded out her name.

Aonung appeared vaguely interested. “What about mine?” He asked.

Ä’amai thought about it a moment, 

“Let us see. Well, we should sound it out first.” If Aonung didn’t look confused before, he did now, “First we have, Ah . That would be the letter A . Then there is, Oh , which would be an O .” She drew the letters into the sand as Aonung watched her closely, “ Noo , is the next sound, but I think two Os would look weird, so we are going to put an N, and a U . Yeah,” she looked at the word she was spelling, “that works. Then we can end it with these two letters, and we are done!” After Ä’amai was done, she showed off the word to the bewildered boy’s face, “Here is your name: Aonung.”

“And there is yours,” Aonung pointed, “ Ä’amai. ”

“Yes, there is my name.” Ä’amai laughed.

Aonung covered the first four letters of her name and snickered, “ Mai .”

The girl took his hand and uncovered her name, “ Ä’amai .” She said firmly.

“If you say so.” Aonung said, “Hey, I noticed our names begin with the same symbol.”

“Yes, I suppose they do.”

“Then why do they make different sounds? Our names do not begin with the same sound.” 

“Well, inglìsì is a little complicated, but I think it has something to do with looks. My name looks better like that. As for the sound, these two dots over the letter cause it to make a different sound than yours. I believe it is called an umlaut .” At Aonung’s bewildered face, Ä’amai laughed, “ìnglìsì is weird.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Aonung muttered.

Ä’amai gave him one last laugh and then looked out to the horizon. The sun was over halfway set, and Netayam and she had yet to look for Lo’ak. Hopefully, the boy was just in the marui with Mother. 

“Aonung, this has been fun, but I must find Neteyam. We agreed we’d search for Lo’ak before it got dark, and it is nearly eclipse.” 

“Search for Lo’ak? Whatever for?”

“Yes, we have not seen him since Dad told him to apologize to you and your friends.” Ä’amai stood, and Aonung followed. Then, she realized. “Did you see where he went?” She asked hopefully.

“I mean, are you sure you have to go now?”Aonung said, dodging her question, “I am sure he will be back soon. Actually, I was sure he’d be back by now—” he cut himself off and looked anywhere but at her. Ä’amai, on the other hand, had never been more attentive. 

“Aonung,” she said calmly, “where is my brother?” She attempted to make her voice calm and sweet, hoping this was a simple misunderstanding. 

“How should I know?” Aonung said far too quickly, “You know what— why do we not go look for him together? We will get Neteyam as well. Come,” he spoke fast and grabbed her hand to drag her along. Ä’amai stood her ground.

“Aonung, where is my brother?” Ä’amai dropped the sweetness.

“I do not know. I suppose she could be— ack!” Aonung cried in pain as Ä’amai grabbed his tswin’s base and pulled him down.

Ä’amai now spoke directly in his ear, her voice deathly calm.

“I will ask one more time,” she got closer to his face, “ Where is my brother? ”

“ Alright , I will tell you, just— ah —let me go.” 

Ä’amai let him go and roughly shoved him back, “What did you do?” 

Aonung looked hesitant to tell her, “My friends and I may or may not have taken Lo’ak outside the reef to Three Brothers’ Rock… and left him. But in our defense, it was a joke, and we thought he’d be back by now.” 

Ä’amai only saw red at that moment. Any bridge that may have been mended in their short time together was set on fire and burned instantly. 

“Let me get this straight,” her tone not wavering even for a moment, “you took my baby brother , who has only tried his hardest to fit in and stay in line, to the middle of the ocean and then left him ? You left him vulnerable to all the dangers of the oceans, dangers that he does not even know yet. Then, you decided to simply wait it out ? Wait for him to somehow return on his own? Did it ever occur to you that he would not know how to return?” 

Ä’amai yanked his tswin again,

“Well?” She said, the anger becoming apparent in her voice. 

“Ah, no.”

Ä’amai wanted nothing more than to pummel this boy into the ground, but it would solve nothing. 

“Tch, you better pray we find Lo’ak.” Ä’amai marched off the sandy clearing, dragging Aonung along with her. 

Luckily for Aonung, the raging Omaticaya girl found her twin quickly. Neteyam was strolling calmly to the clearing she was at only moments ago. 

“Hey, Mai! It is getting dark. Are you ready— what are you doing?” Neteyam quickly changed subjects at the sight of his sister dragging Aonung behind her like her latest kill.

Ä’mai practically threw Aonung in front of her and shoved him towards Neteyam, not being considerate in the slightest. 

“Tell him what you did!” She spat. 

Aonung reached to touch his tswin’s base, wincing when he did, and glared at Ä’amai. She was having none of it, though, and shoved him again, forcing him to look at Neteyam.

“Do not be scared now. Tell him!” Ä’amai practically growled.

Aonung sighed and opened his skxawng mouth to speak, “My friends and I left him outside the reef— but before you do anything, ra—ah!” 

Neteyam didn’t let him finish and grabbed him. He was much nicer about moving him than she was, though. Neteyam kept the taller in front, pushing him forward while maintaining a firm grip on his tswin. 

“Where are we going?” Aonung said in a strained voice. 

Along the way, the three were on the receiving end of various stares and disapproving looks. Ä’amai could understand, here they were, the outsider twins of mixed blood, hurting Olo’eyktan’s son where all could see. But in truth, she didn’t care. 

“Neteyam! Ä’amai!” Sweet Tsireya said, appearing beside them, “What is going on?” She asked, her voice frantic. 

“Lo’ak is lost outside the reef and is Aonung’s fault. He has been missing all day and has yet to return.” Ä’amai said coldly. 

Tsireya’s mouth opened and closed as she stared at her older brother in disbelief. Blinded by her anger, Ä’amai couldn’t read whether or not Tsireya believed them. Stuttering, Tsireya spoke in a voice barely above a whisper,

“I–I will go get my father…” she trailed off and quickly fled to find Tonowari presumably. 

The twins pushed Aonung throughout what seemed like the eyes of the entire clan before finally arriving at the balcony where Dad and Kiri were. It appeared as if they had interrupted something between the two, but Dad stood at the rare sight of the furious twins. 

“Tell him what you told us?” Neteyam said.

Before speaking, Aonung slapped Neteyam’s hands away and gave her one last pathetic look. Then, the jerk spilled his guts. While he spoke, Ä’amai kept her gaze trained on her father, worry seeping into her expression. 

Ä’amai couldn’t help it— she was scared. Her brother had been missing since the afternoon. Lo’ak was in the middle of the ocean, alone . He could be lost, the Skypeople could have him— he could be dead ! Honestly, Ä’amai felt like crying out of pure frustration, but she couldn’t. They had to find Lo’ak, and to do that, she needed to be strong. He couldn’t be gone. 

He couldn’t be. 

It was already well into the night, and Ä’amai once again felt close to tears. Lo’ak was still nowhere to be found. She and Neteyam had even taken to searching the sky! And still, nothing came up. There was no sight of Lo’ak.

“Lo’ak!” The twins yelled. 

Tonowari had the entire clan searching for her baby brother. The whole clan was searching for him, yet they still had not found him. It was not enough! Lo’ak was sitll missing.

Below, the twins saw their Dad calling them down. Confused, they went. 

“Dad, have you had any luck?” Neteyam asked before even dismounting Pawk. 

“No.” Dad looked stressed beyond his years. He shifted his weight and pinched his nose bridge, letting out an exasperated sigh, “Look, just go with your mom.” 

“But Dad, we can help—” Ä’amai tried.

“You heard me. Go with your mom. You two have done more than enough, now go.” Dad pushed between the twins, shoving them aside. 

The twins stood there momentarily, startled by their father’s blatant disrespect towards them. Regardless, they could not just stand here and do nothing. Comforting their sisters and mother would have to suffice. They found the three of them beside Mother’s ikran.

“Mai,” Tuk breathed out and ran into her big sister’s arms. 

Ä’amai sighed softly, letting some stress leak into it, “Ah, Tuk-Tuk.” She hugged her little sister close, allowing the girl to feel her heartbeat. 

“Did you find Lo’ak?” The little girl whispered into her neck. Ä’amai paused, trying to find the words.

“No, not yet.” She whispered eventually. 

Tuk’s head popped up, and she looked at the twins with wet eyes, her large ears turning downward.

“Will Dad find him?” Tuk’s voice wavered.

Neteyam caressed the side of her face, “Oh, Tuk, of course he will.” But Ä’amai could hear the uncertainty in his words. Neteyam did not know whether or not to believe his own words, but they had to. They had to believe it. 

“It will be alright.” Ä’amai patted the little girl’s head and held her close. She looked at her other sister, whose eyes were downcast and arms crossed. Kiri swatted away their Mother’s attempt to comfort her. Ä’amai used a spare arm to touch Kiri’s arm and lower herself to look her in the eye, “You okay, Riri?” 

Kiri rolled her eyes at the nickname her sister refused to stop using, “M’fine.” Kiri mumbled and took Tuk from her arms. 

Ä’amai sighed, but let Tuk go. Neteyam put an arm around his twin and pulled her in. They leaned into each other’s touch. 

“Mother, how are you?” Neteyam asked, “Did you have any luck?” Though he knew the answer, they still looked up at their mother for comfort. 

Mom pursed her lips and breathed through her nose, “No. No, I am afraid not, my children.” Mom rubbed their shoulders, attempting to give them the comfort her eldest two sought. 

“Kiri!” A breathless Roxto shouted from behind, “Kiri! Oh, thank goodness, your family is here as well.” Roxto sputtered, “They found Lo’ak. He found his way back! Come, follow me.” 

Roxto raced off before any of them could say a word. The family pushed through various Metkayina as they ran to Lo’ak. Dad was already looking Lo’ak over on a docking net when they got there. Mom immediately went down after she saw her son. She spoke words to him, but Ä’amai could not focus.

How could she? Her baby brother, whom she was beginning to think dead, was standing right there. Alive . Which is what mattered most.

Tonowari’s commanding voice cut through her thoughts,

“No,” he said, “my son knows better than to take him outside the reed.” Tonowari pushed his son down in a forced-kneel, “The blame is his.” Ä’amai nodded, keeping her hardened gaze on the bruised boy.

“No,” Lo’ak parroted, “this is not Aonung’s fault.”

Immediately, Ä’amai snapped her head towards Lo’ak as he continued incriminating himself.

“This was my idea. Aonung tried to talk me out of it. Really.” 

She stared at her brother with disbelief. Aonung had done nothing but torment him, and yet here Lo’ak was, saving him. 

Lo’ak knew it was not his fault. Ä’amai knew it was not her baby brother’s fault. Aonung definitely knew it was not Lo’ak’s fault, and by the look on his face, he knew it, too. Surely Aonung would convince. Through all his faults, Ä’amai had come to know that Aonung was better than that. 

Ä’amai waited.

…

Nothing.

“Come on,” Dad said. 

Aonung still said nothing. Apparently, he wasn’t better than that. Ä’amai watched as Tonowari and Ronal shared one of their silent conversations. They were deciding what to believe. Would they willingly believe that their son— their heir —so carelessly risked the life of a newcomer? For a while, the two said nothing. 

People said nothing as they began to disperse, her family being part of them. Despite this, Ä’amai’s gaze lingered on the boy, whose gaze lingered back. She overheard the words exchanged between the parents and the son.

“Is this true?” Tonowari asked. 

Tell them the truth , she pleaded in her mind. She did not know why, but she desperately wanted Aonung to see this boy in a good light. 

“Aonung, what were you thinking?” Ronal asked harshly. 

He wasn’t, obviously.

Ä’amai faced Aonung once more as he looked at her with the same desperation she had internally felt. She ripped her eyes off him, catching up with her family. Apparently, there was no reason for hope or trust regarding Aonung.

Ä’amai could not explain it, but she felt betrayed . How could she have ever believed this boy was sweet, kind, and considerate? Even for a moment. How could she have been so easily fooled that he had changed? Why did she ever let her guard down around him? She was caught in his ocean of sweet words, kind looks— all lies . 

The questions in her head raced as fast as her heart. The endless pulsing of her heart seemed to come to a complete stop when she caught up to her family. The words her father said,

“You brought shame to this family,” Dad said.

Ä’amai could only stare at her father in disbelief. Why would he ever say such a thing? But she thought about it, and then it became apparent. Of course, he felt that. He did not know the truth. He didn’t realize that Lo’ak took the blame. Dad sent Lo’ak off, and Mom turned her focus to the twins, underlying anger in her eyes. 

“Where were you two?” Mom said harshly. 

Before the twins could properly form words to the sudden shift to them, Dad hopped on,

“Yeah,” he said, disappointment dripping from a single word, “What happened to ‘keep an eye on your brother’?”

And suddenly it was their fault. It always was. 

“Sorry, sir.” Their voices were hardly above whispers as they lowered their heads to their father.

“Yeah, you are. Your brother should’ve never left your sight. Now, I’m gonna ask one more time: where were you two?” The twins did not offer a response; nothing they could say would make their father happy. Especially not Ä’amai, “Go.” With the look their father offered them, the twins didn’t waste time.

Where were they?

They were getting fawned over by Tsireya for worthless injuries. 

They were getting apologized to by the Olo’eyktan—the Olo’eyktan who would likely never trust the Sullys again. 

They were skipping around the jungle with Ronal, having the time of their lives. 

And Ä’amai?

She was sitting on the beach with the very boy who left Lo’ak out to die . Ä’amai was laughing with him and believing for a moment that he could change. 

Ä’amai was wrong. 

Instead of doing any of those things, the twins should have sought out Lo’ak the second they apologized to Tonowari. They should have taken their ikrans and flown all around when they could not find him, but they didn’t. They weren’t there, and it could have cost Lo’ak’s life. They weren’t there.

The twins trudged back to the marui, and it was like trudging through the thickest of mud. Every step they took felt heavy and forced as the night’s events replayed in their minds. 

“Mai,” Neteyam whispered to her, “he’s following us.” 

Ä’amai glanced at her twin only to be taken aback by the brewing anger on his features. The same look crossed her identical features as she looked where he did. Aonung sped towards them, appearing determined to reach them. She quickly turned, holding Neteyam by the arm, “Let’s go.” 

“I think he wants to talk to you,” Neteyam said coldly, sneering at the idea.

“Mai!” Aonung called.

“Well, I do not want to speak with him.” 

“I don’t think he will leave us alone if you do not entertain his foolishness.”

“Will you come with me?” 

“I can’t look at him without stabbing him right now.” 

“Oh, and I can?” 

“Yes, of course,” Neteyam bumped her, “I have your knife.” He skillfully took her weapon from its holster on her hip. 

Ä’amai sighed, “I don’t want to talk to him.” 

Neteyam twirled her knife, “Alright then, let’s just go back—”

“If I had not been distracted by a couple of kind words, then—”

Seems like tonight was a night for interruptions.

“No, Mai, you cannot blame yourself. There is no one to blame but that bottom feeder.”

“The same goes for you, Teyam.” But Neteyam didn’t look at her.

“I know,” he whispered. 

“Mai, please!” Aonung’s aggravating voice said, sounding much closer than before, “Hey, Mai, come on. Can we talk?” Aonung pleaded. 

She didn’t turn around. “I already spoke to you.”

“Mai, please.” He sounded pathetic .

Ä’amai’s head whipped around. “You know what? Fine,” she spun her body to face the boy, “I’ll talk to you. Neteyam, you go on ahead. I will see you back at the marui.”

“Sounds good to me.” Neteyam looked between the two, “I’m taking this with me.” He dangled the knife and then moved to hug her close, “Give him hell.” She nodded as Neteyam walked off, leaving Aonung to her mercy.

“Mai, thank you. Thank you so much.” Aonung said, moving to hold her hands after Neteyam was out of earshot. 

Ä’amai was having none of it.

“ Do not ,” she slapped his hands down, “Don’t you dare !” Her voice was a venomous whisper.

“Just hear me out, Mai—” Aonung tried.

“That is not my name. Do not call me that.” Ä’amai sneered.

“Seriously? Fine, Ä’amai , hear me out. Please.”

She stared him up and down, “Speak.” Ä’amai would love to hear Aonung’s excuse for potentially killing her brother. 

“Your brother humiliated me in front of everyone. I had to show them I would not be pushed around so easily. It was never meant to be this serious, alright? It was meant to be a joke. Something to scare him so that he would never think to do it again.” Aonung spilled.

“A joke?” Ä’amai clicked her tongue, letting a puff of air that resembled a cold laugh, “ A joke ?”

“Yes,” he said, exasperated, as if this whole thing was a bother. Nothing but an inconvenience, “a joke.” Aonung confirmed. 

“No,” she said, “ a joke is putting a bug in someone’s nivi or hiding their bow in a tree. A joke can be many things, but leaving someone out to die — that is not a joke!” Aonung flinched, she pressed on, “And that is exactly what you did! You took my baby brother out to Ewya knows where and left him. By doing that, you nearly killed him .” Ä’amai’s voice betrayed her and broke, but she continued, “And over what? A fight? A fight that you brought on with cruel words!” 

Ä’amai breathed fast and heavy. She struggled to keep her tears at bay.

“Please, Ä’amai, I know I messed up. Just please, give me another chance.” Aonung pleaded. 

“A chance for what? To be friends?” Ä’amai asked, voice full of disbelief. She didn’t let him respond, “Do you know what you have done?” 

“Yes, I believe you have done a wonderful job of pointing out my mistakes.” 

“Well then, allow me to address another. Not only do you almost murder my baby brother, but then you let him take the fall for something you did. Do you know how hard Lo’ak has worked to keep our father happy? How hard he works to gain his approval? To make him proud? No, obviously you do not.” 

Aonung was visibly annoyed at Ä’amai, but she couldn't care less. 

“Well, he obviously does not care all that much, considering he punched the Olo’eyktan’s son!” Aonung spat. 

Ä’amai wished they were secluded from the clan so she could properly scream at him. 

“You called our sister a freak. You said they were not real Na’vi and then called our entire family freaks. Including myself and my parents. What would you do if someone bashed Tsireya in that way? If someone insulted your father, mother, or unborn sibling? Even then, that is not even half of it. Since we arrived, you have not let the insults rest! Yes, my brother should not have hit you, but you can only push a person so far! Do you not understand that? It is honestly miraculous that you act this way considering your situation.” Ä’amai breathed.

“And what,” Aonung said, irritated, “what is my situation? Enlighten me, forest girl.” 

“You are Olo’eyktan’s son. You are the next Olo’eyktan, yet you act like this to people who are different from you. I hope you have the biggest apology lined up for my brother. He saved your ass tonight and just about shot himself in the process. Even though—” she took several breaths, the tears that burned her eyes threatened to fall, “even though he was the one who nearly died tonight due to your pride.”

“Whatever, at least I am not the child of a false Olo’eyktan. Who could not even protect his own people. Who ran instead of fought . Like a coward.” Aonung’s words spat poison into the thick air.

Ä’amai stared in disbelief, “You know what? I am done. I can not believe I ever thought you were capable of change. That I ever thought I saw a kind person underneath all of this.”

There was a silence between the two. Then a look of shock replaced Aonung’s foul expression, as if he had just realized what he said. 

“Ä’amai, please, I—” Aonung tried. 

“Goodnight, Aonung.” Ä’amai interrupted and turned around to walk away. 

“Mai! Please do not act this way—” Aonung grabbed her arm, but Ä’amai yanked herself away and hissed at him.

She looked him in the eye, an angry frown on her face. Aonung appeared… hurt. Too bad.

“Good. Night.”

And Ä’amai walked away, leaving Aonung alone on the beach. She noticed some teenagers poking their heads through thier maruis at her. Oh great , people heard. 

Sitting on the lower balcony of the marui was Neteyam, his feet above the water and his head down. There was no light in the marui; the rest of the family was asleep. Neteyam waited for her. 

Without wasting a breath, Ä’amai rushed towards Neteyam and embraced him in a back hug. She held him like he was the only thing keeping her from falling into despair. 

“Mai,” Neteyam breathed out, holding her arms, “how did it go?” He said eventually.

“Good, I told him off.”

“I’m glad.”

The twins sat in silence. Ä’ami moved to sit next to her twin.

“How could we let this happen?” Neteyam said after a moment. He turned his head slightly, revealing shiny eyes to her. Seeing this, Ä’amai could no longer hold her emotions back. Silent tears streaked down her face. 

“We almost lost him,” she said.

Neteyam pulled her into a tight hold, their kurus finding each other. At this, Neteyam began to cry as well. 

The stress of the night had finally caught up to them, and the dam broke. The silent cries diminished into minor sniffles of tired twins.

“Tired, Teyam?” Ä’amai asked with a thick voice.

“Yeah,” he nodded into her shoulder, “yeah, let’s go.”