𝐋𝐎'𝐀𝐊 𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓

003

An Imperfect Son by disaster_sapphic7 on ao3

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Lo'ak had never exactly been the favorite child. He wasn't coddled like his baby sisters, or admired like his fallen brother, Neteyam—he was just the younger incompetent son that was more trouble than he was worth.

It probably would've stayed that way forever had Neteyam survived the horrid battle, but he'd felt his brother's ice-cold skin with his own bare hands. There was no mistaking that his soul was now forever with Eywa.

So now, he was expected to take up the mantle of "eldest son." One problem though: He wasn't exactly performing to the same standard his brother used to.

"Dammit, Lo'ak, why can't you just listen?" Jake scolded, fetching the astrayed arrow.

"Sorry sir," Lo'ak dutifully replied, feeling shame creep back up on him. The sting of disappointing his father never got easier to tolerate, no matter how often it happened. 

He could hear his father sigh before saying, "..I'll let you try again, but shoot straight ahead this time, not at an angle."

Lo'ak tried to hold the bow up and aim at the target, but his head wasn't in the game. He'd never really properly grieved the loss of his brother, numbness taking over any melancholic feeling. Combine that with the scolding he'd just received, and all he wanted to do was hide away somewhere to properly process everything he was feeling.

Jake must've taken notice of how his arms wavered, because he then said "I didn't mean to upset you Lo'ak." And it just made the tears he was barely holding back even more desperate to fall. It was stupid for him to cry over some strict wording, he knew that, but the illogical urge to do so persisted regardless.

"You didn't, sir," Lo'ak responded, but it seemed talking almost made it worse. Resolutely swallowing back his unshed tears, he drew the arrow back and let it fly. It was slightly off mark, though better than before.

He stared numbly at the imbedded arrow and Jake shook his head.

"You aren't focused," Jake said, "We can come back to this tomorrow instead." His tone wasn't exactly hostile, but the neutrality was almost worse. No—not neutrality. Disappointment, like always.

Lo'ak felt like such a waste of time. After Jake walked away, he was really unsure of what to do except writhe in his own emotional tidal waves. It was all too much, too overwhelming, and he had tk ground himself somehow.

And, well, the first thing he thought of was pain. Physical pain that would probably hurt him less than the emotional kind but still trick his brain into dividing up the attention. He couldn't very well just pick a fight with someone though—this had to be a controlled act, done by his own hands.

He unsheathed his dagger and thought for a moment on how he was reasonably going to hide this. His bare skin was practically on display at all times, after all.

But then his brain countered that nobody was probably going to pay enough attention to him to find out anyways, so he raised his arm and methodically slid the dagger across the inside of his upper arm, where it would be naturally hidden anyways. He hissed as the pain registered, cause fuck that hurt like an absolute bitch, but it did successfully distract him—he couldn't stop staring at the wound.