Another Chance |Ao'nung x Neteyam|

Chapter 30: Last Shadow

Lo'ak dodges tree after tree, cursing under his breath; he's lucky nobody followed him, but he did see Quaritch at the last second. He cannot lose focus.

Right now, Neteyam is the only one who matters – as much as this thought pains him.
Lo'ak easily locates the hideout in the darkness of the forest, dismounting and picking his brother up and rushing inside, carefully climbing over the slippery rocks inside the cave. It is deep and takes a while to meet the end where he sees light and mortified pale eyes.

He feels Neteyam's blood smearing his arms and stomach, dripping down his thighs.

Naìtvì is the first to notice them; recognition shines in his eyes and he immediately bursts into the middle of the crowd. Most of them have yet to notice Lo'ak's arrival.

"Tsireya," he pants, hand on his stomach. "It's Neteyam."

The young Tsahik freezes, hands stilling her movements. She had just been massaging a healing palm onto a child's cut palm.

"Neteyam?!" She squeaks, immediately standing and grabbing the herbs she's brought with. She lets Naìtvì guide her. "What happened?"

"I don't know," the young male hurries to say, nudging aside the crowd. Murmurs break out across the damp, limited space of the cave.

"Tsireya!" Lo'ak calls out, voice coated in relief. He marches to her, Neteyam still in his arms. "Tsireya, he gave birth on the ship—"

"Where is the baby?!" Tsireya cries out – the murmurs intensify around them.

Lo'ak flinches at her terrified voice. "With your mother. The baby is with your mother. But she had no medicine and Neteyam is bleeding."

"Come," Tsireya gasps, reaching for Lo'ak's arm.

Tsireya helps Lo'ak set down Neteyam on a healing mat.
Naìtvì urges the crowds away, baring his fangs at anyone curious enough to try and take a peek at the unconscious omega.

"What happened?" Tsireya asks as she carefully unties Kitsme's torn top from around Neteyam's waist. She works at a steady pace, carefully nudging his legs apart and leaning down to inspect the damage.

She sucks in a sharp breath, stirring worry in Lo'ak's core. "They really did not have any medicine at all."

"What do you mean?" Lo'ak purses his lips, shuffling closer.

"Metcayina have a salve to prevent tearing during childbirth—"

"Tearing?!"

Tsireya chides him gently. "It is natural, most na'vi who have a child risk tearing. But over the years since the first songs, remedies were developed."

Lo'ak calms down, but his lips remain downturned. "Okay. Is it bad."

"Unfortunately," Tsireya whispers, admitting Lo'ak's fear.

Naìtvì cringes behind them, back turned away respectfully, but ears obviously turned in their direction.

Tsireya massages along Neteyam's softened stomach, frowning. She reaches into her basket and coats her hands in a clear liquid. "The placenta is still inside."

Lo'ak avoids looking as she removes it skilfully, firm, and certain; she presses one hand down on Neteyam's stomach, while the other works on pulling it out carefully. "He is lucky to be unconscious. Removing the placenta by hand is painful."

"Will he be okay?" Lo'ak dares to ask, voice a mere whisper lost to the murmurs along the people.

Tsireya smiles at him, nodding. "He is strong. His body is tired, but nothing happened to him that he isn't meant to handle."