Not a Soldier Yet |Ao'nung x Neteyam|

1. Moon-shaped Scars

Neteyam was undeniably angry. He felt betrayed and lost. It felt like the world was against him, his father, his mother, his home.
Everything he ever knew was ripped away from him and it left a gaping wound in his heart.
He was certain nobody knew how fragile he was inside. He felt like he was suffocating; his throat tight, the back of his eyes burning. He knew to not release those feelings.

Still, he was jealous of Kiri, who was free to roll her eyes and complain as much as she wanted. Nobody was angry at her for feeling the way she felt; to Neteyam, she seemed free and loved. Lo'ak was younger than him; his bursts of anger were justified by his age.

Neteyam felt like a soldier, a machine - not allowed to feel, to cry. Weakness was a significant mistake; one he could not afford to make.

All Neteyam wanted was to be held in the arms of his father - not mother - and let it all out. He kept thinking about his pain while they were flying on the backs of their Ikrans, leaving home. He was last, falling behind on purpose to remain unseen as a few silent droplets fell from his eyes.

He was polite when they landed; he tried to greet the strangers, but all he received was mockery in return for his humbleness. When his tail was grabbed, stared at, and laughed about, his father did nothing.
When Lo'ak's hand was shown off, insulted, Jake could not keep silent, taking the blame, trying to prove them wrong.
The sky people could change - if they wanted to.

Nobody came to rescue Neteyam, when some of the older boys cornered him and tried to pick a fight. Neteyam did not engage; he knew his father would be disappointed, so he let the teal strangers push him around, poke him and pull his tail.
When one of the boys reached for his hand, Neteyam allowed a small smirk. His fingers were different than Lo'ak's or Kiri's, he inherited them from his mother, a true Omaticaya.
It made no difference to Neteyam, but it made all the difference to the Metcayina boys.

Anytime Neteyam overheard someone make fun of his siblings, he pretended to accidentally walk by, so the mockery fell on him. Lo'ak often fought back. Never with fists, never more than a push. Kiri fought back in her own way too. She was not afraid to use her words to defend herself.
But Neteyam. Neteyam let the Metcayina make fun of him freely if it meant staying out of trouble. The insults made him feel alive.

Neteyam was his father's perfect soldier.
He never disobeyed; not unless Lo'ak made him. He listened and did as told, no matter if it broke him inside a little more each time.

Their father had told them to be nice, to keep out of trouble.
One night, when he was walking around the beach aimlessly, Neteyam spotted a figure making their way over to him. Everyone was asleep, that is why Neteyam had left his marui. He longed to be alone; he missed the silence. He wasn't so lucky to avoid a disturbance.
Neteyam dropped the few little shiny shells he had collected, afraid that perhaps he'd done something wrong. Only then did he notice that the nearing figure was the chief's son, Ao'nung.

Neteyam tensed, worried. At first, he was worried that he'd somehow made enough noise to wake him, which he knew was unlikely to be the reason why Ao'nung was walking towards him. Neteyam lowered his head and prepared to raise his hand in greeting when Ao'nung reached over roughly and grabbed his thinner wrist.

Neteyam's lips parted in surprise, but he stayed silent. Ao'nung's grip was bruising. Neteyam did not pull away from the other boy. He was not weak. Submissive perhaps, humble, but not weak. He accepted the challenge, staring into the pale blue eyes of the Metcayina.

Ao'nung glared, yanking Neteyam closer.
"Why are out here?"

Neteyam was shorter than Ao'nung, but he still stared boldly. "I'm walking."

"This late?" Ao'nung sneered and jerked on Neteyam's arm again, tightening his grip.

Neteyam did not allowed himself to flinch; only his ears twitched slightly. Ao'nung noticed, a cruel smirk taking over his otherwise soft features. To Neteyam it was a shame how mean the other boy was. They could have been friends if only Ao'nung was a bit more accepting of their differences.

Neteyam hesitated, a moment of weakness Ao'nung immediately noticed.
"I could not sleep."

Ao'nung hissed. "Our marui's not as comfortable as your stupid little trees, freak?"

Neteyam didn't reply. He took a shaky breath and averted his gaze, knowing that if he kept staring boldly, he might fight back. Neteyam was not scared, but he was nervous. Nervous that he might lose control and do something to bring shame upon his family.
The Omaticaya let Ao'nung yank him around, putting up the slightest struggle only. He was frustrated at himself and at the world around him; he knew not to let it out on Ao'nung however. No matter how hard the Metcayina tried to hurt him, rile him up enough to react, Neteyam was patient. He was raised to be so.

"Do you think you can just come here and ruin our peace?" Ao'nung hissed out through gritted teeth. He still did not let of Neteyam's wrist.

The forest na'vi glanced up, searching Ao'nung's face, trying to figure out why he was tormenting him. He found no answers there, only anger and distrust.

"I would rather be at home-"

"So go home, forest boy. You do not belong here. Is that so hard to understand?"

Neteyam pulled his arm free with a harsh yank, surprising Ao'nung and almost making him topple over from the force.
It hurt. His wrist as well as his heart were bleeding. The paler blue skin on his wrist bled from Ao'nung's nails digging into it, his heart from the words thrown at him.

Ao'nung noticed the blood, an unreadable expression taking over his features. Perhaps it was worry. Neteyam was not sure, and he did not find it in himself to care. Ao'nung left a mark, a physical one obviously violent in nature. The Metcayina held back, he seemed tamed, blinking harshly. Neteyam was almost intrigued by the differences even between the way their eyes worked if it wasn't for the stinging of his wrist.
Neteyam realized then, that Ao'nung had not meant to leave a mark. Neteyam could tell his father about it, and Ao'nung would not be able to deny it was him that harmed their guest.
Even Tonowari could find out.

Ao'nung walked away without another word.

Neteyam pursed his lips, and once he was sure he was alone, he slowly walked into the water and sunk until his head was under the surface. Then, he screamed.
He pressed his lungs empty of air and screamed until his throat burned from the salty water. The water cleaned the little halfmoon scars on his wrist, soothing the burn until Neteyam forgot they were even there. The na'vi emerged from the water and took a deep, comforting breath. His eyes were red, but he blamed it on the water.

Then, he spotted a light near his family's marui, and panic filled him. Someone had noticed he was not home.
It was his father, he was looking for him, worried, but not quite worried enough to call his name and wake the families in the nearby maruis. Neteyam exited the water as fast as he could and hurried towards his father, raising his arm, and waving to alert Jake of his presence. He had not gone too far, he noticed. When Jake noticed him, he said nothing out loud, but in his eyes Neteyam noticed a strange, new kind of disappointment. Neteyam was glad that in the darkness of the night his father could not see the little moons carved into his skin, nor the redness of his eyes.

(Story contains extreme bullying and scenes of violence in future chapters)