Chapter Text
The gentle embrace of all senses wrapped Ao’nung as he let his heart and body be suspended in the cave of the ancestors. The sea gives and the sea takes, and he’d found himself spending more and more time here after so much had been taken from him. He rarely found himself here on his own, usually with Tsireya or Pril, and if they were not connecting with the ancestors, then they were watching their little sister in their marui in order to leave Tonowari come here alone.
Still, they found the time and place. Neytiri had asked, if not begged, Lo’ak and Tsireya to bring Pril to her, for she held a special place in her heart for their little sister. As taciturn as the wife of Toruk Makto might’ve seen, ever since the death of Ronal she’d been very decisive in her words: Your mother was a powerful woman. I will help you protect Pril. You’re always welcome in this family.
And, as selfish as it can be, Ao’nung could not help but be frustrated at it. Was it necessary? Did they need to be torn to shreds, both families, all families, for him to make it out of his haze of confusion? Couldn’t he simply have snapped out of his stubbornness before the Demon Ship, before everything? Would it have turned out differently if, instead of fists and kicks, their bodies had touched differently?
After all, he only had vague touches to remember.
Which is why, six months after the loss of his mother and best friend, he finally comes to try and seek for the answers to questions that got suspended in time, far too painful for anyone to dare ask.
He signed a greeting to the Txampaysye he’d bonded with to spend the last half an hour underwater to let it go. He’s grown accostumed to the feeling of suspension, of lightness that engulfs everything, the slow beat of his heart and the ever-present trust of connecting to the Great Mother and knowing she’ll keep him alive. With the exhale of his last long breathe, Ao’nung reached for his own kuru and established the bond, vertigo in his mind as he visualized what he needed to find in Eywa.
Sight engulfed in light, lungs filled with air, a sharp sting on his skin were the first hints of where he’d find himself at next. Once he opened his eyes, Ao’Nung’s knees trembled slightly at the sight of height. As far as he could see, sky, clouds, trees and mountains suspended in the air. Dizziness came second, him being severely unaccustomed to being so immensely over the surface. The powerful rocks rising next to the one he was standing on were painted with a deep green and other colorful strokes, reminiscing of the forest Tuk would never stop talking about.
And in that immense infinitude of sky, the roar of the beast Neteyam first rode when they all landed in Awa’tlu called his gaze up between the clouds. Selfishness tugged at his insides once more at the sheer delight that filled his chest, suddenly pleased at being probably the first Metkayina to witness it. There, in a graceful turn for such a fearsome animal, a graceful turn allowed him to see the dark blue skin and stripes he had tried too hard to memorize -and then pretend he didn’t-. His face flared up in heat, chest threatening to burst open.
“Yee!” Neteyam cried out, joy laced with his voice as he started an abrupt descend, with arms open, feeling the strength of the wind. Without a care in the world. Finally free, finally away from all the duties, concerns and responsibilities he so inherently carried. It brought a smile to Ao’nung’s face, so big it hurt. “Little brother, returning so soon? What-” as he landed on his ikran, his voice stopped mid-sentence. There was Ao’nung, offering a dumb smile and a shrug of his shoulders. The beast spread its wings in slight discomfort, tsaheylu still bonding him to his rider, who whispered gently at the animal so it’d sit down and rest.
Then, silence. Neteyam’s face was a wonderful thing, struck by confusion and surprise. He was just as beautiful as Ao’nung could remember.
“Tsika’u,” He murmured, before he ceremoniously greeted him with a touch to his forehead. “I see you.”
“Drop the formalities, Neteyam.”
Six months mourning his death in the utmost silence and that was the only thing he could think of. His heart flared up.
The best came afterwards, when it earned a soft laugh from Neteyam.
“I did not expect to see you. Not here, at least.”
“I was not going to have you come back to the water just to be a pathetic diver.”
Another laugh. Music to his ears. The hidden confesion of Ao’nung asking Eywa to go to Neteyam instead of having him come. I’d go where you are.
Silence sat between them for a couple seconds before Neteyam straightened his position, shoulders rolled back and head held high, in that manner that Tsyeyk Sulli seemed to favour so much.
“I heard, about your mother and about Rotxo. I am sorry for your loss.”
This time, no ironies or backhanded commentaries came to his mind. He simply nodded, and Neteyam lowered his gaze.
“Your mother helped mine give birth, during her last moments. They brought Pril to this world, and she’s growing strong and healthy.”
“Yeah?” Neteyam seemed to beam again. “Such wonderful news. Tsireya has mentioned that you look after Pril a lot.”
“Tsireya has come to see you?”
“With Lo’ak, yes. They came to let me know they’re together. As if I didn’t have two eyes of my own to notice.”
It was Ao’nung’s turn to laugh now, softly too, nodding along.
“How’s the war treating you, Ao’nung? Other than…” Neteyam asked, and trailed off, resorting to caressing his ikran’s neck gently to have the opportunity of averting his gaze.
“I fight, and I kill many. But so many of us die too. It’s… different.” He murmured, looking around to try to find anything remotely comforting. This is what Neteyam must’ve felt, first time landing in Awa’tlu. The complete strangeness of it while fleeting from danger. “I don’t feel as reckless as I used to. I’ve been proven wrong enough times. Now I only hope for my sister’s happiness, and for my father’s health, so Pril will always have them.”
Silence sat between them, except for the roaring of the wind.
“But what about you?” Neteyam insisted, golden eyes filled with concern.
“It doesn’t matter very much, does it.”
“Of course it does.”
“Except it doesn’t. You know how it is.”
“Yes, but it’s not the same.”
“Oh, because I could never be as perfect as you were.”
“Because you’re not dead, Ao’nung Tsika’u”, Neteyam snapped, brows furrowed as he looked down. “You have to make the most of your time.”
“What for, even? Everything I could need seems to be out of reach and here with Eywa. What’s the difference!”
“Stop that!” Neteyam hissed, reaching to put a finger on Ao’nung’s chest. “Don’t, don’t say that. Don’t question the will of Eywa, you’re alive for a good reason and I won’t have you come here to say otherwise.”
“Well, what are you going to do, kick me out?” Ao’nung slapped his hand away. “You don’t get to decide that!”
“Are you seriously disturbing the dead in the Spirit World? You’re unbelievable, skxawng!”
“Stop being so obtuse, I’m trying to say something!”
The ikran screeched, uncomfortable with the agitated state of his rider.
“Ta, shh, shh. Well, now speak your mind,” Neteyam scolded him, and as illogical as it may seem, the stern tone made it dangerously temting to toy with the Omaticaya’s nerves once more.
Six months later, several losses, and seeing Neteyam for the first time since that fatal day made Ao’nung realize he could never be ready. So he inhaled, like he would if he were on the sea instead of up here in the sky, and reached behind his neck to untie the necklace of a Skimwing tooth and offer it to Neteyam.
“Here. For you.”
“For… me?”
Ao’nung straightened up, imitating Neteyam’s mannerism, and it paid off considering he looked taller and more formal.
“I wish to court you.”
“…What?”
“I realized it too late. I gave it time, to see if it left my mind, but it doesn’t. I want you with me. Let me court you.”
“I’m dead! You can’t court me! Good Eywa, why do you keep forgetting-“
“I’m not forgetting, I’m very aware! I’m aware that you are dead, that my best friend is dead, that my mother is dead! I’m aware, your parents have suffered your absence and Lo’ak has too, and I will continue to unless you give me an answer. Can I court you?!” He shouted. Once more, both fell silent. He exhaled in frustration. “I should’ve not yelled. I just-I know you’re gone. I know. I know I can’t change that, but I can’t change what I want either.”
“But… Awa’tlu is full of many fine women… and men. If that’s…”
“Only one forest boy,” He shrugged, and his luck seemed to play in his favor once more, because Neteyam smiled briefly at it.
“I don’t think that’s allowed, Ao’nung. With me as a partner you’d never get to live your life next to someone. We wouldn’t raise kids, we wouldn’t…”
“Just please answer me this. Will you let me court you?”
“You need to ask your Tsahík, your new-“
“I asked my mother. I asked my deceased mother, mind you, to give me her thoughts as Tsahik.”
“And what did she say?”
“What does it matter!”
“So she said no!”
“For the love of Eywa, Neteyam, just answer the question!” Ao’nung growled, reaching to tug and pull at his own hair in frustration. It fell off of the bun he usually tied it back into, and the effect was visible, as air got caught in the chest of Neteyam, now heaving softly.
“I won’t say yes just so you spend the rest of your life waiting for it to end.” The Omaticaya insisted, always so correct. It made something melt in Ao’nung’s stomach.
“But you want to say yes.”
“N-Not what I said.”
“Sort of what you said,” he grinned and reached for Neteyam’s wrist, tugging at him to come closer. “Here, wear this,” this time he whispered, reaching to place the necklace against Neteyam’s chest and tie it carefully behind his nape. Once he had finished, he softly guided his fingertips across the piece, to have it land in the center of a chest devoid of the wound he had seen at his funeral. “Just think of it. And think of me. I am thinking of you, all the time.”
This time, he sealed the offer with the gentle press of his lips against Neteyam’s cheek. The feeling was similar to the first shock of the wind and altitude, filling his lungs immediately, spreading across the tingling sensation of his skin. “You never… You didn’t…” The boy tried to argue, and it made Ao’nung’s smile widen.
“I was trying to, but I think the part where I teased your brother might’ve sent mixed signals. And since you’re such a good older brother…” Another kiss, landing a bit higher, on his cheek bone. “You didn’t pay attention to me, which was what I was aiming for.”
“You were being insufferable,” Neteyam spoke softly, and a timid hand came to land on Ao’nung’s chest.
“I am insufferable. And I will be insufferable about this for a moment, alright? Just… take some time to think about it.”
“I literally have all the time in the world.”
“Good, so do I.” Ao’nung took his hands to frame Neteyam’s face, looking at him from this short distance he had never been granted before. During training or hanging out late at night, they’d sneak glances and touches of fingertips, but he never got to see the perfection of his features this close.
“No, you don’t,” Neteyam insisted, but he was finding it hard to fight the smile coming to his lips.
“Yes, I do. Consider it, I’ll come back around some other time.”
“Do you promise you’ll consult your Tsahík?”
“Who, my youngest sister who’s currently in love with your half-blood brother? Very impartial, for sure.”
“Stop it,” Neteyam laughed, and oh, it was divine again. “I mean it, Ao’nung.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Good, now go,” Neteyam murmured, and left a quick and unexpected peck on Aonung’s cheek.
That was all he could ask for.
It’s mutual. It was, since their first lingering stares and touching thighs riding an ilu. Since the first bonfires where he watched Neteyam dance with Tuk, and since the devastation filled him when he held Tsireya at his funeral, seeing him join the ancestor.
Ao’nung walked back to the spot where he first showed up and bowed lightly before he closed his eyes and asked Eywa to return.
Soon enough, his eyes opened and he was underwater, where he belonged.