Let me first say thank you for all the kind reception part one received. It was … a surprise, and a welcome one.
Also, a massive thank you to @sunnie-angel for beta reading. If you haven’t read their work… Do yourself a favor and check out their masterlist!
This Chapter takes place over a few days in two mini stories., and I would appreciate being told if at any point this causes confusion. Currently how I’ve done it is as tilted segments. Content warning: this chapter has themes of sexual harassment in the workplace up to the point of groping (from an OC), and corruption. Proceed with caution. Be safe.
The morning after. You are going to murder your partner, Grayson. Perhaps with a gun. Maybe your own two hands. Or maybe you just need coffee.
It's probably the coffee thing. Coffee, then you’ll decide if you're going to kill him and how. As you sit at your table, surrounded by notes you’d made at 4am, the urge to throttle Grayson slowly subsides. You hadn’t slept a wink. You’d had a weird night. But if you were going to do this, help him find this killer… you’d need a plan for if it all goes to hell. A diversion. A plan so that if you’re made, maybe the killer will think you’re on the wrong track. A dummy investigation. But simultaneously one that you won’t overthink, so that you can devote your time and brainpower to the truth. Luckily for you, you have the perfect person to pretend to accuse. After all, your partner, Grayson, is an incredibly weird guy. 8:55 am finds you walking into the station sipping your third coffee of the morning, only to find Grayson sat at his desk. Shirt pressed, tie perfect, hair shampoo commercial glamourous yet slightly messy. The urge to murder your partner returns, just a little. How dare he be so… normal? So unaffected? How dare this man fight crime by night, and be smiling at you as he is now, chipper and bright and perfect, before 9am? The nerve. Maybe you could hit him with a patrol car and claim it was an accident. “Morning detective… Long night?”
Oh.. This fucker. Your partner, Grayson, is the most annoying man alive. You hate how badly you have to fight the urge to grin at the sheer audacity.
She looks exhausted, the poor thing. Dick remembered the feeling, but at some point he’d adapted to running on less sleep than was by any means reasonable. He hoped she wouldn’t need to. That this would be over in a few weeks and she’d be back to getting a full eight hours. “Morning Detective… Long night?” She glares at him like he’s caused personal offence. He raises an eyebrow at her to prompt a response. Inside though, he panics. Had he done something wrong? Could she suspect? No. no of course not. But whatever she said next would surely be important. It was a test of sorts. What would she say she’d spent the night doing? Would she betray his alter ego? Could she sell the lie if she didn’t? “Just had a night in, had a little too much to drink,” she shrugs, opening her bag and removing a notebook. Casual, calm, partially true and nearly impossible to disprove short of a blood test or breathalyser, and even then there was deniability. Dick nods, and looks back down to his computer to hide the grin that splits his face in half. He knows he can’t dwell on it, knows he can’t act on it, but it’s completely unfair that she was that smooth. That helpful. She’d agreed to help him - as Nightwing - instantly. Her words about how Blud owed him a debt had played in his mind on loop for the rest of his patrol. He knew what it felt like to fly. To flip through the air at dizzying heights, gravity a mere afterthought. It was cruel, frankly, that he’d found someone who made him feel even better than that, only for her to be someone he couldn’t be with out of principle and professionalism. It wasn’t that he objected to her as a partner - short of his family, she was possibly the best he’d ever met. Frankly, if she was transferred to Gotham, the bat signal would be turned on far less frequently. And he didn’t object to rules about dating fellow officers, especially one’s partner. Objectively it made sense. But it didn’t change the fact that her smile was the best part of his day. That on the rare times she laughed he could swear he heard an angel just straight up quit its position in the heavenly chorus out of pure envy. That when she’d said she’d help he’d wanted nothing more than to grab her face and kiss her till she was breathless. But he can’t. Or at least Dick Grayson can’t. A new voice breaks him from his spiralling thoughts. “Detective Grayson.” The man standing behind his partner's desk has a hand on the back of her seat, preventing her from swivelling around.
“We haven’t met yet, I’m Sergeant James McElroy. Seems you spent most of my first day back stuck on a stakeout.” “Pleasure.” he responds, with all the charm he’s learnt to use at galas and parties, forcing down the venom incurred by the way his partner had seemed to lose a gallon of blood at the sound of his voice, and the way she had seemed not to breath since the name was spoken.
He's not touching you. Of course not. He knows better than to do anything so blatant. It's how he’d gotten away with it for so long last time. He doesn’t touch you, or say the things he was so clearly thinking. He would masterfully walk the line between making you feel unsafe, alone, and naked, while never crossing over into anything actionable. Till one day he had. It had been in a crowded lift where he’d used the crush as an excuse to grab and to feel, whispering something vile in your ear.
He’d figured he’d gotten away with it when you tried to tell your captain and he’d asked if you had a witness. You’d thought he’d gotten away with it too. Till a uniformed officer, Janet Rodwell, had stepped up to have your back. You should have known, really. For the second time in 24 hours you feel like a fool. But while the first time it had been accompanied with a dizzying realisation of love, this time the realisation is dark and chilling to your core. You’d thought you’d won, that it was over. But he’s back and he’s not touching you, but you feel the ghost of his hands all over. You can’t win. He’d been sent away and you thought you were safe again, but he’s back and he’s a sergeant now. Because Bludhaven, as it is, rewards men like him. You can’t bring yourself to look over your shoulder at him, so you look straight ahead, across your desk and to your partner’s adjoining one.
It's not Dick Grayson’s eyes you meet though. They aren’t cheerful, carefree and beautiful. Well, they are beautiful. But they are angry, intelligent, and fierce. You meet Nightwings gaze, and you feel the claws around your lungs relax, even if they do not recede.
His partner did not rattle easily. Did not panic unnecessarily.
Pinned down by the Penguin’s smugglers, he’d thought their goose had been cooked unless he could work at his true capacity, so he had shot out the lights and gotten to work. He’d taken out nine, but been unable to find the tenth, until he’d heard the struggle.
She’d taken him down blind, without drawing her gun. When he’d asked her why she hadn’t, she’d told him she’d lost sight of him in the chaos, and was unwilling to risk it. He wished he hadn’t shot the light out so he could have seen it.
Still, he had been oblivious. It had hit him like a batarang to the face last night, in that moment where she agreed without hesitation to help him find a serial killer. He’d known she was beautiful, and brilliant. That he had a crush.
He’d realised last night he was in far, far deeper trouble than that. So, if she was frightened and upset by the presence of this man, then Dick would take his looming over her as a serious threat. He trusted her gut. “You haven’t introduced yourself to my partner, Detective—-” He’s cut off with a dismissive wave that boils his blood. “Oh we’ve met. In fact, she was my partner first. Until the misunderstanding.” There are many ways to snap someone out of a panic. He’s seen sheer rage do it many times. As it does now. “There was no misunderstanding,” she says, her voice firm, her teeth gritted. “Well. I want you to know-” he moves from directly behind her, to her side, leaning down over her, invading her space. Dick wanted to hit him. “I understand that what I did could have been seen as invasive, and you may have felt that I overstepped. I have completed a course, as demanded by HR, and will attempt not to cause you to feel that I have been inappropriate again.”
She takes a deep breath. He can practically hear her count in his head. He stands, moving around the desk to stand beside her, not quite a barrier but a comforting presence, or at least he hoped. “Well. Whatever occurred, we have work to be getting on with, if you don’t mind.” It takes a great deal of the restraint his training has given not to add the words ‘you bastard’, or something far more creative. “But of course. Detective. Detective.”
Your hands shake as you sit back down in your seat. Your partner, Grayson, returns to his own, his gaze - Richard’s gaze, never leaving your face, crumpled in concern. “I don’t want to overstep… but are you alright? What … did he do?” “I…” you want to tell him, in part. Or maybe you don’t, and you want him to know without having to go through the ordeal of rehashing it all. Maybe by consulting whatever ‘oracle’ he used as nightwing. But you can’t right now. So you don’t. “I… need some air.” Your partner just gives you a comforting smile, a nod, and lets you leave without question. Wingding in the window
It's five days later, on his patrol, when he notices it. The wingding left in her window. He stops on the roof of the building adjacent to her. As far as city roofs go, this one’s relatively nice. Someone’s placed some potted plants around, in an eclectic attempt at a rooftop garden. Some of these pots contain small pebbles as cover for the soil from the wind. Grinning to himself, he takes a handful.
Was this a good idea? No.
Was it deceptive? Well, no more than anything else he did as Nightwing… well, maybe a little more.
But it hurt, holding her at arm's length, when a part of his soul he tried to ignore yearned to be as close as she would allow. He knows it’s not good. He knows it’s a violation of the utter trust she seems to hold in Nightwing. Really, it would only make things even more messy for his chances as Dick. But he wants to make her smile. Blush, even. He knows she finds him attractive, and in both contexts, but he wants more than that. Over the last week he’s realised just how much he wants to have with her, and it terrifies him.
If it was simple lust he could deal with it. But it wasn’t, and so here he was, about to attempt the cheesiest move known to hallmark films, just to see if it would make her laugh at him again.
He’d managed to be professional while surrounded by highly capable, badass women in skintight clothes for most of his life. He’d had crushes before and gotten over them. He wanted everything with her. And that was not something he knew how to handle, given the mess of their situation. Dick shakes his head, snapping himself out of his doom spiral. He had a detective to meet, and a serial killer to find.
Bap. Bap. Bap. You look up from your book. You’d been getting ready for sleep, wearing your cosy pyjamas, curled up in bed with a book and a hot chocolate. You go still, listening. Bap. Bap. A pause. Then, the rap of knuckles on glass. “I ran out of rocks”
You know that voice. “With you in a moment.” You pull on a dressing gown, and take a moment to curse the fact that your slippers are rabbits before pulling the curtains aside. Nightwing is crouched on your windowsill. You lift it, stepping back as he enters through the window with all the grace of a cat. You know that you shouldn’t be embarrassed to be in your pyjamas, it's late, you had no means of knowing when he’d arrive. But he looked divine in that suit. An adonis. And you're in your old bathrobe and bunny slippers. Truely, you must have done terrible things in a past life. “Nice footwear.” Nightwing says with a smirk. Curse him. Curse his cheekbones and the way his lips look so damn inviting. “You picked up what, five rocks?” you sass right back. Nightwing makes a noise you suspect was supposed to be a scoff, but is more of a squeak. “Do you see a lot of pocket space on this?”
“Fair.” you say, leading him out of your bedroom and into your living room. He sits on your couch, one leg spread wide, the other’s ankle resting on its thigh, as you open a drawer on your coffee table and produce your masterpiece. Nearly five metres of red string. Names, photos, dates, all studded with pins so pressed so tightly in they haven’t a prayer of accidental removal. You prop it up on the coffee table.
Maybe your friends were right. Maybe you did need to touch grass. A line of thought for later. You look at Nightwing, who’s no longer relaxed and laying back on your sofa like he owned the place.
Its years of maintaining a poker face in interrogations and more recently, dealing with his shenanigans that prevents you from grinning.
He's as pale as you’ve ever managed to see him, and leaning forward now, elbow on knee and chin in hand. “Well, this is… impressive.” He sounded like he’d inhaled helium. “Shall we start with Sergeant McElroy?” you offer, smiling your best ‘there’s nothing wrong’ smile, enjoying making him squirm. “You seem to have … a significant amount of evidence against Detective Richard Grerson?” You fight the urge to roll your eyes as you take a ruler, poking your picture of him between the eyes. You hadn’t planned to do him first, you’d hoped to discuss evidence that would actually lead somewhere.
This was still going to be fun though. You take a deep breath, and pause for a suitable level of dramatic effect, and begin your game.
“Detective Richard Grayson. He’s my partner. He’s an excellent detective, and a good man. You might have heard of the charity he founded.” Nightwing makes a noncommittal humming noise. “But is it all too good to be true?” you ask, moving to your first notecard. “Exhibit one. He asked about the file. On its own, innocuous. But then, exhibits two through four. He’s prone to frequent disappearances on cases. He often knows a little too much about the criminal underside of Blud. Things that I have triple checked are not in any police database.”
You run a hand through your hair. “He’s a highly trained combatant. I once saw him take down nine men armed with guns, in the dark. They don’t teach that at the police academy.” “No? No.” Nightwing says, clearing his throat. “I mean yes. That is… suspicious.” “Incredibly. Which brings me to exhibit five. Now I’m no behavioural analyst or shrink. But I know my basics. Childhood trauma and instability can have… lingering impacts. I… don’t feel the need to dredge up his past, but I did look into it… and it’s grim. He was then taken in by Bruce Wayne. His relationship to his father, whatever it is, is something he’s even tighter lipped about then… everything else honestly. It’s not on the board because it’s circumstantial at best… but he has this skill of being able to hold long conversations and yet you come away not having learnt anything deeper about him.”
He was pretty sure he’d been nodding for a good thirty seconds at this point.
It would be funny if it didn’t hurt so much.
The worst part was that it was all well reasoned. Practical. He had done everything she accused him of. She had just drawn a far more down to earth conclusion, that he was a corrupt cop, rather than Nightwing.
It made sense. Too much sense. How could he shut this down without seeming invested in his own innocence?
That isn’t what causes his lungs to burn though. No. The root of that was that even if he’d forced himself to maintain a professional - if friendly - distance from her, he would have hoped that she trusted him.
But in this moment, looking at the evidence, looking at her holding that ruler to his photo’s face like a judge's gavel ready to condemn… he knows. He knows that she will never look at Dick the way she does as Nightwing, happy to see him, believing in his mission, ready to help as soon as he’d asked. Even if he clears himself of this crime, she would surely suspect him of others.
He’d known it, at least on one level, ever since he’d first met her. He knows it now all the deeper, and he wants to scream. Dick Grayson will never get to tell her how truly wonderful she is.
How highly he regards her.
How she is one of the reasons he keeps fighting for Bludhaven.
Dick Grayson will never get to tell her that he loves her.
But… perhaps Nightwing could have something. Because if she was his north star, then the way he’d felt when she agreed to help him had been like being engulfed by a supernova.
If she was water, then seeing her cosy and ready for bed and smiling as she let him in through the window had been an oasis in the Sahara.
If music was the food of love, her attempts not to laugh and stifled giggles over his peeps popcorn had been a symphony orchestra.
But he’d never have her as himself. Not at all. Nightwing though? She at least found him attractive. Aligned with his ideology. No, he’d never feel that warmth of 10,000 stars directed at the real him.
No, he’d never be able to be quenched by her life saving presence.
No, he’d never feel her laughter shaking his bones as if in a musical crescendo.
But even the dimmest and most distant star gave off some light.
Even the last drop in an empty water skin was better than nothing.
Even the memory of a melody could be sweet. True, he would only ever have scraps of her affection. True, he could flirt, and perhaps go even further… but he’d never truly be with her.
But who was a starving man to deny scraps of sustenance? He’d take what he could have and try to ignore the lingering hunger.
“Perhaps we should discuss… another suspect?” he prompts, realising how long he’s been silent. How long she had been too, watching him with a strange, concerned look.
She nods, and moves on to their Captain.
Dick is almost relieved when some ten minutes later Oracle calls in a robbery downtown. “Well - sorry Sherlock.” He takes a picture of her board for further study. “I’ll be around next week to continue this discussion, and look over this in my own time till then. Duty calls.” “Be safe,” She says softly, as he’s halfway through the window He looks over his shoulder. “As you wish.”
Taglist: @jasontoddproblems
@sunnie-angel
@stormz369
@love-theangel-blog
@torchbearerkyle
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@soradragon Banner credit is to @strangergraphics
If you would request to be added to my taglist, please reblog the fic. Honestly please just reblog it anyway? I worked hard on this. Nothing more demotivating than a fic getting only likes. If you want part three, reblog part two.
I can’t stop watching it.
I am crying so hard rn to the fact Noritoshi cut his hair. Like he why did he had to cut his beautiful hair- 😭😭✋
BEFORE:
AFTER:
I accidentally clicked out of this in the middle of reading and I just found it again so I’m gonna be paranoid and repost it
𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬
- a new family has arrived on the metkayina lands, facing grief, responsibility and her connection with Eywa. Renaia catches the attention of the eldest sully boy, is she ready for it.
This story contains - slight heartache, swearing, mentions of death. Slow burn but not really if you look closely.
Word count - 4K words I think or more.
Part 2
I’m making a part two to this but this was just how they met and a little background on the reader, I’ve also given you guys a name because the story feels more complete when the character has a name, but feel free to let me know if this doesn’t sound like neteyam. Might’ve indulged a bit I guess.
Anyways do enjoy x
Being reclusive was a prominent trait of yours, preferring the serene sounds of the water clashing against the sand while boaring a heavy oddity towards being around others.
You were an outcast to a lot of the village, always wandering off alone. Never really speaking because you never felt the need to, solitude was something you found importance in. In order to grow with your surroundings, to gain a deeper connection with eywa and your ancestors. You always felt different from the rest.
As a young girl your first feeling of grief that drew you into your reclusive personality, happened when you were around the age of 8, the only friend who truly saw you. Was killed, during the marine biologist's hunt for the tulkun. Weapons of mass destruction and large explosives were amplified and being used against your spirit brothers and sisters.
Manisa, a beautiful girl with a heart as mighty as eywas wrath, she was an unstoppable force but despite these traits she was kind, loyal to the metkayina. Loving and most importantly, my sister by fate.
In desperation to help the tulkun, her 12 year old self snuck off during dawn. Riding past the reef and further out to sea. She was fearless and in an attempt to save her very own spirit sister, she was shot. Left for dead at the bottom of the sea where my father, the olo’eyktan of our village. Found her lifeless body, her soul returning to eywa where her spirit would know peace.
Your chest tightened and your heart cracked when you were watching her body being cradled as she returned back to the our ancestors, sinking further and further into the ocean floor.
That night you climbed the highest tree you could find in a desperate attempt to get away from the memory of manisa. although your limbs were growing weaker, used to the tides rather than the vines of the forest behind the village. you couldn’t bring yourself to feel anything but determination.
Resting idly on a branch that stuck out more than the rest, giving you a clear view of the village miles beneath you and more liberty to gaze at the other islands.
You took in account every star in the dark blue sky that night, every ring around the planets surrounding your own. Standing on your two feet, steadily balancing yourself with a huff.
Then you saw it, the shooting star. It held a kaleidoscopic of flashing colours, the vibrancy bringing a comfort into your life, you felt the warmth in your heart grow as if Eywa was speaking to you herself. It was a sign of hope, to preservere and in spite of manisa being welcomed by the ancestors. She was still there, in spirit and around you.
You’ve grown since then, now at a peak in your adolescence. You’ve found a love for the children of the tribe, aiding the new mothers of the metkayina village or supporting them by caring for their infants.
Although you were young, you were experienced. Having been taught by your mother, the tsahik of the metkayina people to heal and to nurture.
In spite of your sister tsireya being the eldest, she found her passion in the water. Not paying much attention to the teachings of mother, it was heavily disapproved by your mother and father. You were always in tsireyas shadow, what she could do you couldn’t do as good, she was a treasure to your father. She was perfect in the eyes of the village, compassionate, beautiful and the next tsahik by right.
“What is wrong, Rini. Speak to me” I released tenderly towards the young child before me, her innocent eyes staring off into the distance. Her head turned my way making the small beaded braids on her head sway.
She shuffled to my side, not uttering a single word. Her small hands attempting to wrap around me, without a reply to my question Rini proceeded to tuck herself under my shoulder, She often did that when she didn’t feel the strength to speak. So out of pure feeling. I lifted my hand, patting her head in the process.
“Whatever it is, sweet child-“ you tapped lightly against the placement of her heart “this is all that matters, strong like the tulkun but soft like the ilu. Unlike me, my heart is feeble like the sand, that’s why I need you to keep me up don’t I” in an attempt to cheer her up, rini smiled up at you, her fangs slowly developing to full sized teeth.
“Because you are weak” she mumbled under her breath, I caught a glimpse of the smile peeking through her facade.
Your hand reached for your own heart, feigning surprise.
“Weak? Me? How dare you” you tapped her head a little, lips jutted down into a pout.
Rini giggled but stayed adamant “yes very weak like a baby” she mimicked the cries of an infant, falling onto her back.
“Like you then? You are a baby” you joked, standing on your two feet with a pointed look.
Rini shoot up from the ground, stamping her feet onto the ground “I’m a big girl, bigger than you”
A smile fought against my cheeks as you tapped your chin with a curiosity dawning in your eyes “well, a big girl can catch other big girls. If you are, catching me would be very easy for you”
Rini gained a mischievous look, her six year old build towering as high as it could, puffing her chest with pride “easy” she promised.
Next thing you know You're jogging through the village, Rini struggling behind you as she shouts incoherent promises that she’d catch you.
“This is no challenge” you teased making the younger girl huff, pushing her little legs as fast as they could go.
Just before you, Aonung, your brother had appeared alongside rotxo, running towards the beach in a hurry. You paused, watching them join a group of villagers piling by the entrance of the metkayina lands. Then you heard it, the putatara.
A warning call spreads throughout the village, halting both yours and the younger metkayina girl in your tracks. Rini looks at you with fear in her eyes. After all, she was a child. So you did what you usually do to comfort her, reaching for her hand and squeezing it ever so gently.
You were the tsahiks daughter and it was of great importance for you to be by your family in a moment like this.
As you drew closer, Rini closely stood behind you whilst strengthening her hold on your hand as a reminder she was still here. You managed to make out the figures standing ahead of you, you weren’t generously tall but you were lengthy enough to see the family that had just arrived.
Gently pushing through the crowd until you reached behind your mother and father, your mother was the first to notice your presence, choosing not to speak, just moving silently for you to stand near your siblings.
“Come here child” your mother called, whisking Rini away from you.
The tsahik shot you a look, a demanding one. To stand beside your brother and sister, you complied obidiently, except as you turned around to face the family. Head bowed in hopes to not garner too much attention. You felt a pair of eyes shift your way, almost burning holes into your skull.
“Where were you” you heard your brother aonung whisper in your ear, looking up at him you scowled “none of your business” Aonung squinted his eyes before he rolls them back.
“Don’t do that you’ll scare yourself seeing how small your brain is” you retorted, rotxo standing beside your brother sniffled a laugh.
“it looks like tsireyas not the only one who’s got those forest boys' attention '' Rotxo announced under his breath, moving the attention away from you, making both Aonung and I look at him with question.
You followed his gaze meeting a pair of chartreuse eyes staring right back at you, his little brother so it seems couldn’t take his eyes of tsireya.
But this one had his eyes on you, your own grew wider before you relaxed yourself again and drew back from noticing it. You were not going to falter in your path for a boy you’ve just met.
He seemed to be the eldest out of the pair, holding himself strongly beside his brother. He was wearing an ionar and it made sense with the ikran he had standing behind him and his family, he was an Ikrana maktoyü. You knew this as you’ve ventured far and wide on your own, often visiting different islands and people.
He was tall in height, braided hair falling against his back and the stance he had was one of protection. He was putting himself in front of what could possibly end up in a fight between clans, standing just a few inches ahead of his brother, he stood out from the rest. I knew from the look in his eyes he meant well, he also lifted the burden of responsibility placed on him at a young age. You knew because you had the same. He was moulded by knowledge and knew right from wrong by the looks of it.
“My children will teach yours the way of the metkayina people during your stay”
Oh shit.
Before you could step in to say something Aonung placed a hand infront of you, stopping you. You shoved his hand off of your chest, daring him to do it again, “mother will have your head if you embarrass her” he spoke slowly, this made me stop. One thing I hated was being the fuel to my mothers disappointment. Oftentimes I was and today I wasn’t feeling like starting the fire.
Neteyam watched as you struggled to accept the news, wanting to do anything but that. He felt a tug in his heart when he first laid eyes on you, seeing the way you brought the child with you, reassuring her with nothing but your eyes. The way you walked before your family with a mind of your own.
To say he was interested was an understatement.
“This here is Aonung, our oldest,” he pointed towards Aonung who was already glaring at the younger brother, neteyam seemed uneasy by it, his eyes slicing from me to Aonung with a fiery look.
“Tsireya, our daughter” your father pointed to tsireya, whom you were standing behind. Tsireya lifted her hand, waving gently with a bright smile. Your beautiful sister.
Then he moved the attention on to you “and this is Renaia”
You meet gazes with the eldest boy again, he examined you from head to toe. Engraving your entire self into his mind with a single glance, you knew this wasn’t going to be easy.
Lo’ak nudged his brother with a cheeky grin, gaining nothing but a slap at the back of the head by neteyam.
My father announced for the people and the family “Ronal and I will show you where you will stay while with us, Jake sully.”
And just like that, you walked towards your mother as the crowd dissipated. Latching on to Rini and lifting her away.
Ronal gave you a stern look “if any of these children are hurt, I expect you to take care of it. You know the ways better than your sister therefore you are responsible if any of these newcomers are injured”
Your mother isn’t always like this, she was a kind woman, compassionate and caring. Except being the tsahik came with its highs and lows, having a mother who was the tsahik was a different story. She loved you but she was very strict with her approach, in order for you to learn, she was hard on you. You had to remind yourself she was doing it out of love but oftentimes it was impossible.
Tsireya, Aonung and rotxo jumped into the water to start immediately with the new arrivals. Swimming in front of their Kelku (home) to wait for them to come out for their first lesson.
You, on the other hand, left the beach with rini. Returning her to her parents for the time being “did you see the little girl? Tell me you seen her. I wonder if she wants to be friends, do you think she wants to be friends with me??” Rini rambled continuously, finally taking a breath of pause. She gasped for air before rambling again.
Your ears flicked back and a smile dawned on your lips, stretching out your cheeks “I saw her alright, I just know she wants to be best friends with you.” I tapped my chin in thought again, something I often did with Rini.
“I’ll make you a deal” she perked up
“If you let me braid your hair, I’ll ask the little girl if she wants a new friend; by the name of Rini” Rini squealed, grabbing your forearm in her small hands. She loved when you braided her hair so this deal was nothing to her, she’d get the best of both worlds.
Before you could set the girl down by her kelku, you felt a heavy wave of anger wash over you “Renaia” your mothers voice echoed throughout the village, “you are meant to be helping your brother, what are you doing here with Rini”
You jutted your head in the direction of Rinis home, the small child latched onto your leg in an attempt to hug you, running off into the distance away from you two.
You stood strongly, knowing you weren’t here for any bad reason. “I was just making sure Rini got home safely, you know how clumsy she is mother.” Your heart was always a weakness, is what your brother often reminded you of. Your heart was too empathetic, too kind, too caring. It was too much.
Your mother sighed, placing a hand on your shoulder “one day, your disobedience will get you in trouble. I tell you one thing and you go do the opposite, the quicker you start becoming aware the faster you’ll learn.” She lectured, you knew she meant well but she never failed to make you feel dumb.
You had a good reason too.
After being lectured for nearly an hour in front of some of the villagers, you had arrived at the edge of the beach. Diving into the water to meet your brother and sister, “Follow us, it’ll be fun” you heard tsireya say, you slid under the water. Making sure there was no splash. You dove as deep as you could before popping out and scaring Rotxo.
“Shit” you heard a huff of surprise, the youngest brother held a hand to his chest. Eyes wide as they landed on your soaked figure “how long were you down there for?” He asked, perplexed.
“Longer than you know”
The eldest of them both came out of the water, gasping for air. You giggled a little, finding entertainment in it, “Lo’ak, my name is Lo’ak and this is my brother-“ he was shortly cut off by the eldest “neteyam” he said, his voice sending shivers down your spine.
“Sorry about my skxawng brother, he’s very curious about things” neteyam said, voice laced with his own curiosity as his gaze settled on you “and you aren’t curious about things?” You questioned, still having distance between them and yourself. You stayed silent, waiting on his answer.
Neteyam didn’t know how to reply, for the first time in his life he couldn’t come up with some intelligent, well thought out excuse instead, he spoke before thinking “I’ve never been more curious than now” he exposed, you couldn’t tell what he meant, his tone and his gaze signifying something completely different. You confirmed by the look Lo’ak shot him, that same cheeky grin he had before.
“Oh yeah? We all know what you're curious about?” Lo’ak teased, he was too busy fluttering around like a child to notice the glare coming from Aonung.
“That’s enough forest boy, do you want to learn or do you want to drown? Your choice” Aonung threatened the pair, aiming mostly towards lo’ak, two more began swimming towards us and I took notice of them being the younger sisters.
“Neteyam, Lo’ak” the young girl yelled, her screeching voice alerting all of us. Neteyam, out of instinct. Swam towards tuk, placing her on his back so it would be easier for her in the water. Neteyam, couldn’t help but look at you. There was something to it, you didn’t just hold your beauty on the outside, you held it on the inside as well. He needed to know more.
The loving and warm gaze you shot Tuk was comforting to him and he didn’t understand why.
“This is Tuk, the baby of our family” neteyam introduced, gazing up at Tuk with adoration in his eyes. “Hi Tuk,” you all greeted, Aonung grumbled it under his breath, showcasing his displeasure.
Tsireya then spoke up “the first thing about the water, that you must learn is that breathing plays an important part, every living being breathes. We’ve seen how long you guys can hold your breath so now we must teach you how to do it, properly.” She then took a decent breath of her own, waving for them to join her moving forward under the water. Rotxo latched onto kiri, pulling her down under the water.
Lo’ak shrugged his shoulder, showcasing a piece sign motion. Or you assumed it was a piece sign.
“Your very pretty” Tuk spoke up earning a hiss from neteyam, your cheeks were starting to hurt with the amount of times you smiled, you were only really like this with the children of the village. Having a soft spot for them.
But the more neteyam spectated the interaction between you and his youngest sister, he too couldn’t help but smile.
“Not prettier than you Tuk, you are the prettiest girl here” you complimented, tuks lips thinned, trying her best not to smile. You looked down upon Neteyam before speaking.
“Follow me, I’ll show you where we're going” you kept it simple and short.
Quickly diving under the water, you began swimming. Glancing behind you in search of the two omaticaya villagers, yet the further you swam. The slower they got, huffing under the water before remembering your mothers words.
“They are your responsibility”
Despite that, the moment you turned around was not because of her words ringing through your ears, it was purely out of concern. Tuk was immersed in the water, neteyam learning quickly but you knew it would take a while to get to the rocks if this was how they swam.
neteyam already had his eyes locked on you, almost like he knew you needed to say something. You pointed to the surface, signing ‘we’ll take some air and I’ll lead you the rest of the way” Neteyam only shot you a confused look, you kept pointing for him to swim up.
He grabbed tuk, swimming to the surface.
He gasped for air again, his braids falling elegantly infront of his face before they were pushed away “what’s wrong” he asked, voice laced with worry.
“It’ll take us too long to get there if we continue swimming like this, I’ll take Tuk on my back and you can hold-“ you gently grabbed his hand, the softness of his palms escalated the beat of your heart.
“Here” he was quick to latch on to your shoulder, stammering in his response, his grip was secure. He couldn’t seem to look at you for long before gazing at the sky again.
Tuk wrapped her slender arms around your neck, diving once more into the open water.
You’ve always loved the sea, holding it dear to your heart. The water to you was like speaking to eywa, it was a connection. An entirely different aspect of the world around you and above you, when you swam you felt grounded, controlling your breathing was another form of connection to your people. It was the first thing many of you learnt as children, if you had control over your breathing, you could always find peace.
You swam further into the ocean, you were quick. Neteyam noted, very swift. It was almost as if you had been born from the water, you did it without effort, weaving through the floating seaweed and masses of rocks like that of a dolphin.
He couldn’t help but admire your skill.
Arriving at the rocks granted you space from the eldest brother, that entire time consisted of you holding back from slapping his hand away out of fear of what could be, you didn’t want to feed into your own delusions.
Your brother was right, your heart was weak.
“Just sit on those rocks over there” you muttered under your breath, wanting to escape the area. far from the visitors, “are you not staying?” neteyam asked, eyeing you with hope glimmering in his eyes. Or so you’d wished.
Tsireya perched in her spot, “she is staying,” she said, more so an order than a question.
Aonung shook his head, earning another laugh from rotxo who shot you a look of stupidity, reflecting his stupid self. You’ve known rotxo since you were children, he was always there. Always around, it was to the point you had even asked if aonung and rotxo were mates.
Rotxo fed into it, Aonung not so much.
“Renaia would rather swim with the fish and talk to the rocks” Rotxo joked, I lifted my hand out of the water and pointed it at him “Talking to you is like talking to a rock, only difference is the rocks smarter” Rotxo shot you a glare but that didn’t stop the others from laughing.
You lifted yourself from the water, flicking your hair back off of your shoulder. You had two thick braids circling your head, while the rest of your curls were left to silk down your back. A few loose strands hung from the crown of your head.
Neteyam was in awe, his mouth hanging as he tried to compose himself. Tuk giggled watching her elder brother panic under your presence, everyone noticed except you.
“Breathing is a life form, breathing gives you life and takes away that very same essence. You breathe from here,-“ she huffed in a breath, holding her chest with one arm “and here” moving the other to her stomach.
“In order to be one with the people you must learn how to control your breathing, it’s one of the most important parts of being metkayina. If you have control over your breathing, you have control over your life.” Rotxo finished.
All of them copied Rotxo and Tsireyas movements, Lo’ak whom was sitting by tsireya struggled to adjust to new knowledge. This made you curious as to how neteyam was adjusting, you could tell he was a quick learner but being the eldest he’d still carry past teachings with him, very dearly.
The rest were all too busy helping the others, glancing towards neteyam who sat cross legged on the rocks. Eyes closed, his eyebrow bone knotted together in frustration, you could immediately tell he didn’t know what he was doing.
You reached out to him, not uttering a single word as you placed your hand on his chest. His eyes shot open, wide and big in shock. His breathing rapidly escalated at the touch of your hand, you go to remove it but stop when his hand grasps your wrist.
“No it’s okay, I’m sorry for scaring you” Neteyam held a gentle look on his features, guiding your hand back to his chest “there’s only one way I’m gonna learn, go ahead” he consented, acknowledging you.
You pushed the emotion rising within you to the far back of your mind, you trained yourself how to not show emotion at a young age. This was a walk in the park.
Your smile faded, eyes rested, there was no sign of emotion in your face but the eyes speak for the soul and Neteyam was no fool.
“Breath in from here” you held his chest, tapping it with your middle finger, reaching your other hand over and placing it on his stomach “then you breathe out from here”
You breathed out from your own stomach, showing him how to do it. He mimicked you, not once breaking your gaze. His stare was strong, powerful. He was very relentless but you could see he didn’t mean evil.
I felt pulled to him, feeling no need to break the tension, I found myself wanting to drown in it. In his warm forest eyes, his gentle smile. But you barely knew the boy and you’d be damned if you’d gotten caught showing attraction for someone you’d just met a few hours ago.
After multiple attempts, you finally broke his gaze. Coughing slightly from the lack of air you took, although you were used to holding your breath, this somehow felt different.
“Good” you hummed, removing your skin from his. Then turning around to watch as Lo’ak fell prey to his feelings, he seemed to be the rebellious one. The way he held himself was awfully similar to the free spirited tulkun.
“Your heart rate is fast.” Tsireya teased, Lo’ak quickly glanced her way before lowering his gaze again “yeah sorry”
It seems like these boys apologise a lot.
After hours of teaching them how to breathe it was time to return, you had disappeared before the group could notice. It was a nightly ritual for you to go sit on that same branch and fall in love with the stars all over again.
You could see them from where you hid, choosing the spot just before the large bush of leaves to keep yourself hidden. Not even your own family knew of this place, thinking that you’d been out swimming every night since Manisa's death.
You had healed from that, as you looked upon the islands. Watching the water cascade with the tides, when they pulled back you’d imagine the hurt you’ve endured being pulled with it. Washing away your fears, your pung (hurt).
It was always beautiful sitting on top of the tree, weaving through the vines and gaining your balance rather easily now, you’ve endured so much but spoke so little of it. It was your responsibility to help, it was your job to uphold the honour of the olo’eyktan, everyday was a chore for you when all you wanted to do was be free spirited, one with eywa.
You could feel her presence in everything, you could hear her voice in the trees as they swayed. Eywa was always there, around you, above you and infront of you.
With your eyes closed, ears perked. You began listening to her, her heartbeat was mighty. Breathing in and out to the rhythm of the beat, it was a gift being so close to her, to the all mighty power of eywa. Your chest felt full, like her solace had been placed into your heart.
You’d rather be anything but who you were, Eywa has taught you that it’s not you who is deceitful it’s the people who convince you so.
The crunch of branches alerted you, you sat up quickly. Searching around for the intruder. You had a knife strapped to your thigh. It came in use during hunting, but this time it wasn’t going to be used for such a thing, before you could register the voice being used. You shot around, grabbing the intruder by their chest, pushing them into the tree swiftly with a knife against their throat.
“I didn’t mean to scare you” Neteyam choked, your breathing harsh against his as you dropped the knife onto the forest floor. Watching it drop further and further, “what are you doing up here?” You asked, more annoyed than shocked.
“My father told me and my idiot little brother that we can go exploring, I wanted to feel more at home so I came here” he truthfully spoke, “you could have died if I didn’t realise it was you”
Neteyams brow lifted in question “I don’t doubt your skill but I’m sure I would have been fine” he laughed. Of course, he was the son of olo’eyktan too, by the looks of it he’d already been trained in the ways.
You granted him no reply, sitting back down on the branch, remaining what you came here to do. The boy had no clue as to what that was, so he sat next to you, thigh touching yours. His shade creates a dark contrasting blue against your emerald skin. He was much taller than you, broader too. His shoulder rested by your head as you looked up at him for a slight second, then returned to your sullen features.
“Why do you come here, all alone?” Neteyam pointed out, so curious as to why you're always alone. Somehow this piqued his interest, your solitudious personality didn’t go unnoticed. He noted your disinterest in partaking in the activities with them but only when tuk was around did you finally enjoy being there.
You grumbled in response “because”
Neteyam shifted his gaze from your touching skin, to your blue eyes. He noticed how they had gold specs in them and a freckle, if he looked close enough it seemed as though the freckle was a second pupil.
The answer didn’t suffice “because?” He dragged on.
“I have my own reasons like you have yours, why do you put them before yourself? I see the way you step in when it comes to Lo’ak, the way tuk is like your child. Kiri is the same age as you, is she not? Yet you treat her too as if she’s a baby.” You rambled, feeling called out. You enjoyed your privacy, for once. You’d thought about sharing it with someone else, but for now you had to make it clear you were not easy and never will be.
Neteyam scoffed lightly, nodding his head as if you’d just analysed his entire life and been correct “it’s my responsibility”
You nodded in understanding, nudging him a bit to continue. Neteyam glanced your way, searching for safety in your eyes, he didn’t understand why he’d find it so important to do so but something in his heart told him too, and he always listened to his heart.
“Being the first born always means you sacrifice everything about yourself for them. They mess up? It’s on me for not teaching them to do better, they fall and hurt themselves. I should have been there to protect them, in some way they are my children but I’d never admit that to them. That’s just the burden of being born first, that’s how I’ve been raised”
You couldn’t help but feel sympathetic, he was wise beyond his years. Being the first born meant so many things and one of them that held importance was responsibility, although in that sense Aonung would fail miserably.
After a few moments of silence, Neteyam mirrored your actions of enjoying the eclipse.
“You're a good brother” you released, your voice weak.
The forest boy snapped his head in your direction, you continued “Aonung would rather die than have to bare the burden of me or tsireya, he comes off protective but at the end of the day it’s me protecting him from his own stupidity.” You reached for his shoulder, anywhere else was off limits to you. Reassuringly patting it.
“That's an admirable trait, you’d make a great olo’eyktan one day.”
Neteyam couldn’t help but to take in the moment, staring into your eyes with a glimpse of confusion flickering in them as he searched around for the answer in yours. You couldn’t bear meeting his gaze, before he could open his mouth and utter the words he wanted to.
A voice from below called out to you both “Neteyam, mothers looking for you” Tuks high pitched voice called from below, how she found you two was a mystery. She noticed your presence, getting giddy already. You had nearly forgotten to ask her the question you’d promised rini.
“I guess being the oldest has its perks, you get your own watch team” humour was never really your forte and even you didn’t find the joke in that but Neteyam sniffled a laugh.
“Yeah, one step and tuk is threatening me that if I don’t take her she’ll tell everyone everything about me” this made you laugh, children were stubborn but tuk had a new level of stubbornness. Almost like she’d go to war for an adventure.
Before we could start climbing down, Neteyam grabbed a hold of my wrist again. A pleading look on his features “do you think I could come back with you tomorrow, same place, same time” he asked politely so as to not alarm me, his hold was soft and gentle. Like he was almost afraid he’d break my wrist if he held it with security.
I looked down towards tuk who held her thumbs up in a yes motion “your free to do whatever you want, Neteyam”
He couldn’t help but feel the pull dominate one side of his lips into a grin “so that’s a yes?”
“Yes, it is”
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I tried proofreading but i'm lowkey blind so sorry for the little fuck ups guys.
Me when life series winners
“Makin’ My Way” performed live by Sam Riegel, Ashley Johnson, and the Laura Bailey during tlovm watch party
Hehehe