Upon the Metkayina Clan giving his family sanctuary, and now living under Awa'atlu, Neteyam didn't foresee himself to be holding secrets.
As the eldest brother, all he wanted was to protect and follow his father, Jake Sully's (Toruk Makto) footstep...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
—THE REEFS, AWA'ATLU—
Ever since the Sullys had been admitted sanctuary by the Metkayina Clan at the reefs of Awa'atlu—every day had been nothing but disarray (and nagging from their parents). It was depleting.
Neteyam missed the forest. His real home. All of them did, but indulging in the feeling of homesickness was nothing but rendering them useless at the moment. They were to adapt as his father had told them.
It was arduous. Anywhere they went, skeptical glares shot themselves at the Sullys. Half breeds. Blooded demons—They would ridicule.
Neteyam understood. Over time he'd just listen and pay no mind. There wasn't shame. Awat'atlu was intimidated, war practically at hand. After all, they were risking their people by giving them refuge.
And that meant keeping an eye out for his siblings. Specially Lo'ak. He was like a free wilding spirit, wandering without a guide. No leash. No one to stop him (despite Neteyam's frequent attempts). Lo'ak was the attractor of threat and naivety.
Bonding with the Olo'eyktan's son, Ao'nung proved to be difficult for his siblings—his sister, Tsireya being the only friendly one. Surprisingly, Neteyam liked Ao'nung's wily self. He was fun to be around.
They occasionally shared back-and-forths; insults and sneering remarks. Neteyam would laugh, face crinkling to that of his mother's. It'd been known to all that Neteyam was a carbon copy of Neytiri.
However, Neteyam would also find himself feeling irate and betrayed, scorning at the thought of his friendship with Ao'nung ever being genuine. He was aware of his privilege. No brows, four fingers—he was perceived as a true Na'vi.
He clenched his teeth, yellow eyes blazing with hatred as he walked with haste, dragging Ao'nung by the braid, and playing blind to the slight wincing of the taller Na'vi.
"Tell him what you told me," Neteyam snarled, brusquely shoving Ao'nung forth to his father. Ao'nung lightly stumbled, yet tried to keep his composure. He looked back, locking his blue eyes with Neteyam's distant ones.
Neteyam hissed, eyes turning menacing. He restrained himself from pouncing at the taller Na'vi and jabbing an arrow through his heart. Ao'nung downcasted his eyes and flattened his ears, discomfit to meet face with the Toruk Makto, who was bewildered.
Neteyam had always been levelheaded. Never denying anyone a second chance.
But that day at the beach, when Ao'nung and his friends were harassing his sister, Kiri, he should've taken the clue. Moreover when they were willing to break a punch or two when he and Lo'ak stepped in. He should've known then.
Yet here he was standing, in the dark of his Marui, terrified and furious. His heart was racing and his breath was quivering. What if Lo'ak was dead?
He'd never forgive himself.
He realized then that Ao'nung only ever tolerated him. Only kept him in because he was the most ordinary out of his siblings.
"It was only a prank..."
Neteyam glared blades at the boy's back, who was now kneeling in apology with his father, Tonowari at his side.
He rolled his eyes, and silently exited the pod, the discussion falling distant. He looked at the evening sky, his freckles glowing. Please, be alive baby bro, he thought.
It was no secret that Lo'ak was missing. The chief had called upon every Matikayan, urging them to bring the boy back. Neteyam thought about joining and helping the search but knew it would only add trouble and cause more harm.
It wasn't until forty minutes later when Lo'ak stormed in through the pod, his footsteps heavy and rushed with some Metikayina men trailing behind him.
"It's not his fault!" Lo'ak panted, eyes steady on the chief, flickering with a glimmer of persuasion. "I forced myself to come." He added, patting his chest as seeming sincere.
Neteyam clenched his jaw with a scowl. He gazed at his brother, pondering the reason behind his lie. His brother was always transparent, never one to take the blame if it wasn't his. And the elder felt this wasn't his doing. Lo'ak was occasionally foolish, but never gullible unless he trusted.
Neteyam smiled with scorn and rolled his eyes. He left elsewhere, away from the commotion to clear his mind. He felt frustration, blame, and betrayal, all swirling in the pit of his abdomen. He exhaled, looking at the bare sand beneath his feet with guilt.
I should've been more attentive to Lo'ak, He grunted, palming his forehead. Nonetheless, he braced himself for his father's forthcoming scolding.
______________________________________
Ao'nung never apologized. He hung around the Sullys as if nothing had happened. His demeanor had changed though. While he was still snide, Neteyam could see he meant no additional harm (at the moment).
Lo'ak seemed to have forgotten (and forgiven) as he tried making peace with the fish boy, who was surprisingly cooperative.
Occasionally, Neteyam would converse with the boy but it wasn't the same as before. They didn't laugh. He hadn't forgotten nor forgiven him, and Ao'nung very well knew that.
Yet, Ao'nung stood his ground. It wasn't until a day later that he apologized to Neteyam personally. "I shouldn't have done that," He had told him earnestly, ears sunken and blue eyes examining Neteyam's golden ones, anticipating.
"Just don't do it again," Neteyam had said, his scowl breaking into a toothy grin, and just then, Ao'nung realized how similar he looked to Neytiri; big eyes crinkled illuminating with life, and cheeks up high, seeming soft and chubby. It was endearing almost.
"Good?" Ao'nung cooed, cocking his head with the perpetual smirk of his at play.
"Good," Neteyam nodded, fist bumping the other's chest lightly, a habit of his since day one.
Neteyam remembers day one clear as day. He remembers the keen glare Ao'nung had given him; his judging stare piercing through his wide golden eyes. Time felt slow at the moment.
Neteyam had been alarmed upon greeting—his hands gradually falling at his sides, ears perked up and his breathing stilled. His eyes grew wider. He was swallowed: swirling upon the taller Na'vi's never seen before blue eyes.
The guy was taller, more muscular, more chiseled—his skin a turquoise shade, a glamorous beauty under the rays of sun and droplets of water. That was Neteyam's first impression.
"Up for a swim?" Ao'nung proposed to the dazzling sea a few meters ahead.
"And get beat?"
"I didn't say anything, tree boy," Ao'nung held his palms up in surrender, smiling.
To his realization, Neteyam was like a bundle of flames; scorching and threatening to the eye, yet beneficial, and warming of care in a way.
