Chapter Text
Neteyam desperately holds onto his ikran’s reigns. He feels foolish for wanting to cry. This was for the best; he tries to reason with himself. But was it really? Does that matter now? It still stung to think about, so he doesn’t, instead focusing on the flight and the things his ikran is feeling. He’s sixteen and considered an adult, he shouldn’t be crying.
He lands on the beaches of Awa’atlu later. Neteyam had been here only twice before. He was with Jake, some training thing for when he became the Olo’eyktan. For when he would have become the Olo’eyktan, Neteyam reminds himself, not anymore. He held no future now, no clan even.
Stepping off his ikran, the warm sand feels the same as before. It was probably past midday now by the light still left in the sky. A crowd quickly forms around Neteyam, probably from the sound of the conch he heard earlier. The same had happened when he first visited.
Through the crowd the Olo’eyktan and Tsahìk step towards him. Despite it having been four years, they look the same. That could not be said about Neteyam though his resemblance to Neytiri is uncanny and he can tell they recognize him on that fact.
“Eldest son of Toruk Makto,” the Tsahìk speaks, her voice still the same. By the mention of Jake's name, there’s murmurs around the crowd. “What are you doing here?” she asks pointedly at him. It’s unspoken but she’s asking why he’s here alone. Neteyam had never come alone. Even with his parents, he had only come twice before.
Neteyam signs the traditional greeting before he begins explaining. “I seek uturu,” he tells as he had rehearsed on the flight. He tries to show the desperation in his voice. Regardless of all the lessons his parents gave him to never show weakness, that’s all he feels right now. The Tsahìk’s and Olo’eyktan’s eyes widen
“Why do you need uturu from us? Would it not be better to stay with your family?” the Olo’eyktan questions him. That would be true if Neteyam were running from the humans, but he wasn’t running from them.
“I can’t go back,” Neteyam stresses. “I’ve been outcasted from my clan.” That still hurt to say even it is true. There’s the murmurs in the crowd again, how could he, Toruk Makto’s son, be outcasted. He thought the same thing too when it happened.
“Your body is not fit for the ocean,” the Tsahìk tells him but he can tell there’s sympathy in her eyes. “Your arms are thin, and your tail is skinny,” the Tsahìk names off. She could go on longer but mercifully stops at those.
“Please, I have nowhere else to go. I will learn your ways,” Neteyam promises and pleads. The next place he could think of going was at least a day’s trip away and, even then, he had worse chances with them. “I just want somewhere to stay, please.”
The Tsahìk’s gaze softens as she looks at him. Her face almost stoic besides her eyes. She turns to the Olo’eyktan for his final judgement.
“You may stay but so that you do not suffer the shame of being useless, my son and daughter will help you learn the way of water.” The Olo’eyktan points to a boy about his height and a girl that’s just under Neteyam’s height. The boy’s name comes to Neteyam’s mind almost immediately. Ao’nung. They had met on Neteyam’s last visit and, surprisingly, became friends, fast.
Ao’nung looks different now. They used to be same height, Ao’nung definitely has half a head over him now. Tattoos also decorate his arms; they travel up to his face where they cover half of it. If Neteyam remembers right, it means Ao’nung has completed his rite of passage. Which doesn’t surprise Neteyam much, it’s been four years. He wishes they could have seen each other under better circumstances.
“Thank you,” Neteyam says gratefully to both the Olo’eyktan and Tsahìk.
The Olo’eyktan’s mouth lifts slightly before looking at his children. He quickly whispers something to them and then walks away. The girl, Tsireya, Neteyam finally remembers her name, and Ao’nung come towards him.
“We will help you with your stuff to your marui,” Tsireya tells him with a smile. Neteyam had never actually met her before though Ao’nung had told him some things, years ago. She should be around Lo’ak’s age.
Neteyam quickly grabs his one bag from his ikran’s back. He slings it over his shoulder before taking off his ikran’s saddle, allowing her to travel into the forest of Awa’atlu. “I’ll see you soon,” he tells her before she leaves. He wouldn’t need her here, at least not while he adjusted to this new life. Ao’nung carries the saddle for him.
“Is that all?” Tsireya asks with surprise.
“This was all I could take before I had to leave,” Neteyam explains. It was barely anything. A few of his handmade necklaces, some tewngs, his bow, and dried meat he managed to grab before leaving. Besides those and the things he’s wearing, he has nothing from before.
“Oh, I see,” Tsireya says with pity in her voice. Neteyam isn’t fond of it. He hates feeling like he’s useless, but he is. He has no skills that matter in Awa’atlu.
Neteyam follows Tsireya across the bouncy paths that connect the maruis, those would take some time to get used to. Ao’nung walks beside him. Neteyam doesn’t mind it.
“Neteyam?” Ao’nung suddenly says. Neteyam turns to him confused. “Sorry, I remember your last visit,” he tells. It’s weird how mature Ao’nung’s acting, nothing like his twelve-year-old self.
“I remember you as well, Ao’nung,” Neteyam says with the best smile he can muster. He does want to smile but at the same time he wants to sit down and rest. Maybe let the tears fall from his eyes.
Once they arrive at Neteyam’s new marui, it’s empty besides a place to cook in the middle. It’s quiet and he can’t help the feeling of loneliness that creeps within him. If Tuk were here now, she would already be planning on how to decorate before choosing her sleeping corner and then somehow convincing Neteyam to sleep beside her.
Neteyam wonders how she’s doing now. It’s only been a few days. She was crying when he left, refusing to let him go and trying to convince Jake to allow him to stay. But the choice had been made up and he couldn’t stay, no matter who pleaded.
“I hope this is alright, I imagine this is quite different to where you lived before,” Tsireya says, bringing Neteyam from his thoughts.
“Oh, this is fine,” Neteyam assures her. The marui itself is fine, he couldn’t care less about where he lived but he did worry for his siblings. The war is still raging and the fact that he’s been outcasted means he can’t help anymore, not even step foot in his old clan.
He wonders if Spider and Lo’ak are up to no good right now. They probably are, he tells himself. Would Jake be harder on them now that Neteyam wasn’t there to take the blame? He hopes not, even if that’s unlikely.
Neteyam drops his bag to ground and takes the saddle from Ao’nung from which it also ends up on the ground. “Thank you for your help,” he tells them both.
Tsireya smiles at him once again. “It’s no problem. I hope you settle in quickly.” Neteyam hopes so as well. She leaves the marui soon after, stating she had tsakarem duties to attend to.
Ao’nung stays behind for a little, lingering by the entrance. Neteyam watches him with confusion. “Is there anything else I need to attend to?” Neteyam asks as he steps towards Ao’nung.
Ao’nung shakes him head in response. “No, I just wanted to ask if it would be alright if I delivered you dinner tonight?” he asks.
The question catches Neteyam off guard. “Oh,” Neteyam blurts out. He doesn’t want to seem rude, but does he really seem that useless that he couldn’t hunt for himself? That thought truly cuts him deep, he really had no skills for the ocean.
“I’m sorry if I’m intruding, you’ve spent the day traveling and I figured… You know what? Forget it-”
“That would be appreciated,” Neteyam cuts him off. Ao’nung’s explanation relieves Neteyam a little. “I’m quite tired from my journey,” he admits. At least, Neteyam’s still on Ao’nung’s good side.
“No problem. I’ll come around nightfall.” Ao’nung turns away at this point.
“Ao’nung,” Neteyam calls out his name before he can start walking. The other turns his head to him. “It’s good seeing you again.”
“You too.”
Neteyam closes the curtains to the entrance of the marui just as Ao’nung leaves. The sun seeming too bright and the people too nosy. He could see every person that walked by sending him a look.
Taking in a deep breath of salty air, Neteyam leans against the wall before sliding down. He brings his knees close to his chest and wraps his arms around them. Then a tear falls from his eye and that spurs another and another. Before he knows it, he’s crying onto his knees.
He doesn’t make a sound. Neteyam can’t let anymore weakness show through.
Eventually, his tears soon dry. Neteyam remembers Jake’s words that crying was pointless and that action is better. That memory used to bring him courage, lift him when his spirits were down, now it’s only bitter to think about.
Neteyam lifts his head to look at the slightly darkened marui. The only light coming from the ceiling and small window. The place feels more like a house than a home. Dark and empty. His eyes drift towards his bag and the saddle tossed to the side.
All that he owns is now within this marui.
Neteyam does unpack. He finds a box in a corner of the marui that he uses to store his jewelry and clothing. At the bottom of the box, he puts him cumberband. It means nothing here anyways and would only slow him in the water. The sooner he could acclimate to this clan, the better.
He hangs his ikran’s saddle on the wall, not wanting it to stay on the ground even if he wouldn’t be using it much. Neteyam does the same for his bow and arrows though that’s more for easy access to them if he wants to hunt.
There’s just enough wood in the fire pit to start a new fire but Neteyam’s sure he would need to gather more in the morning.
Before long, there’s a knock that the entrance. Neteyam pulls open the curtain to reveal Ao’nung standing there with two plates in his hands.
“I hope you don’t mind if I eat with you.”
Neteyam doesn’t. It would be nice to think about something else for a change. For the past few hours, all he could think about was his siblings. He could use a distraction.
They sit to eat in silence. However, Neteyam doesn’t mind it, it’s nice to simply just be in another’s company after everything.
Neteyam looks over his plate. The plate has a slice of fish, some seaweed thing that’s slimy, and clams. He immediately smiles upon seeing the clams. “I remember eating these when I visited,” Neteyam comments.
“They don’t serve them often and I know you liked them before, so I grabbed some extra,” Ao’nung tells him.
Neteyam lets out a small laugh, the first time he’s laughed since he left. “You remembered.”
“It’s hard to forget you.”
They don’t speak much more than that. Neteyam likes it, he couldn’t imagine trying to keep up with an entire conversation. Ao’nung’s presence seems like enough. They could catch up another time.
Once they’re done, Neteyam walks Ao’nung to the entrance. Neteyam smiles as he hands Ao’nung the plate. Ao’nung takes it, his eyes lingering on Neteyam’s arms. Neteyam looks down to see the cuts and scrapes he had gotten when he left, he had almost forgotten about them, they seemed so insignificant compared to everything else.
He was in such a rush, he simply flew through the trees, not thinking. He got pretty scratched up by the branches. Most of the cuts had healed through the day, but definitely looked worse than they actually were and wouldn’t be very nice in the sea water.
Ao’nung swallows, looking away from Neteyam’s arms. “Dinner is always held when the sky begins to darken, and I’ll show you where tomorrow. I’ll come in the morning, early, to get you for your lessons. Have a good night.”
“You as well.”