Another Chance |Ao'nung x Neteyam|

Chapter 29: For Her

"What's wrong with him?" Ao'nung grits out, turning to his mother, only to find her looking pale and mortified. "Mother?"

Ronal does not remove her eyes from the scene, a hand resting over her pounding heart. "He's in labour."

Ao'nung can hear himself growling, but it feels like he's an outsider in his own body.

"They're just watching him," Rotxo whispers in disbelief beside him. He turns to face Kaey, who's gritting his teeth, knuckles white from how hard he grips the reigns of his tsurak.

Tonowari glances at Lo'ak, who's flying around above them restlessly. "What are we to do?"

Lo'ak shakes his head, blinking hurriedly, eyes burning at the mere thought of the agony his brother is going through.

"He cannot move into a safe position to deliver the child," Ronal admits. She doesn't seem aware that she's talking at all, unblinking eyes glued to the ship. "He's not even undressed."

Ao'nung bites his tongue; he doesn't want Neteyam to be undressed around the sky people and their demonic na'vi copies. He wants them away from Neteyam and he wants them away now.

"We could attack in secret," Kaey suggests. "The Omaticaya warrior is behind the boulders."

Lo'ak sighs, crestfallen. "No. Not, they wouldn't know what to do unless we give ourselves away to tell them."

"What about the thing around your neck?" Tonowari asks, motioning to his own throat.

"I cannot reach Teneytano. His must be compromised."

Kitsme stares on in shock, mouth hanging open as not a single soul moves to help Neteyam. "Great Mother, what is this?! Why do you do this?!"

Quaritch seems startled by her outburst; he pulls his lips back in a sneer, motioning for the soldiers gathered around him. He lifts his arm and easily creates the most hostile environment.

Neteyam cannot react; his mind shuts down to protect himself. He's tied up on the ship.

He's tied up on the ship.

He's tied up.

The war lunges into action – the bullets begin flying, ikran and tsurak shrieking as they are forced into a battle they would never fight if unbound.

Kitsme begins struggling against her bindings again.
"You!" She roars, uncaring if she ruins the soft skin of her wrists. "Let him go! How can you be so rotten?!"

Quaritch points his gun at her. "Shut it."

Kitsme reels back, brows furrowed in obvious fury. "How dare you speak our language and still do such unforgivable things? Have you no soul?!"

"Shut the hell up!" Quaritch roars, barely avoiding the limp form of a human being thrown his way, pierced by an arrow. But it isn't her arrow, so he ignores it.

Neteyam's pained whimper silences Kitsme's shouts. "Please."

"Let him go!" Kitsme demands, cries falling on deaf ears – until they're heard.

Quaritch looks at war with himself; he curses loudly and stomps over, cutting Neteyam free before disappearing somewhere inside the body of the ship, not looking back even once.

"Neteyam!" Kitsme calls out to him, but he doesn't move for a while, not until fresh blood rushes down his thigh.

Neteyam blinks himself awake from his days and scrambles over to Kitsme, searching for anything sharp enough to free her with.

"Bro!" Lo'ak shrieks, jumping off his ikran mid-flight. He makes a high noise in the back of his throat. Neteyam copies him weakly. "Here—"

Lo'ak tears into the ropes binding Kitsme with his knife. He hands it to her, glancing his brother's way before his eyes widen and he gets to his feet, gun pointed right behind the two na'vi.