Another Chance |Ao'nung x Neteyam|

Chapter 33: Our Souls as One

Neteyam doesn't see Kitsme for a few days; she's been healing in her humble little marui, Teneytano glued to her side. The thought makes Neteyam smirk; or, he would be smirking about it, but he's managed to birth the fussiest child and so he doesn't actually have time to wonder about his friends' love life.

Or Lo'ak's, who's been very obviously following after Tsireya like he's floating on a cloud.

Ao'nung doesn't notice.

On top the newborn being fussy, Neteyam's healing is slow. He's in pain most of the day, especially when he spends longer periods of time standing. Not to mention going to the bathroom... Which he avoids until he feels like he might explode and in hindsight, that also is not a good solution, because then his stomach hurts.

Sitting hurts but walking even more so.

His hips are sore, and his nipples are raw from the newborn who was born with her fangs already poking out a little bit. Neteyam knows her hair gave him heartburn.

There is a funeral for the fallen, which Neteyam does not attend, opting to stay away from too many people with the excuse of having to take care of his daughter – it isn't a lie anyway. She's much too loud and cries a lot from the smallest noises, so taking her to a funeral with most of the village except the severely wounded would be a terrible idea.

Neytiri refuses to go home, following Neteyam around like a baby tulkun its mother, guiding him and helping him where and when she can. She redoes Neteyam's healing bindings across his torso and applies his deep-orange medicinal salve, assuring him that he's healing nicely when he refuses to look.

Jake does most of the cooking and cleaning, making space for Ao'nung to spend more time with the newborn.

Neteyam spends a lot of time in bed, lying on his side, knees pulled up, merely watching the little bundle sleep beside him on her back; she scrunches up when he picks her up, which in turn makes his nose scrunch in delight and it draws happy cooing from Ao'nung.

Neteyam sings.

Ao'nung always pretends he's not about to burst into tears, but Neteyam's voice is soft, deep, a little raspy, but so gorgeous. And the way he speaks to the baby makes Ao'nung lightheaded. He's never witnessed so much love between two beings in his entire life.

In the late afternoon, basking in golden rays of light sprinkled with a little floating sand and some specks of sparkles – pollen from those pretty glowing flowers that blossom atop the waters, Ao'nung returns home from fishing to find Neteyam propped up on pillows, humming softly, sleeping baby on his bare chest – chest to chest, hearts against one another's.

Her queue is naked, but Neteyam chose to add the most delicate little silk ribbon along the length for protection. Pink. Ao'nung had learnt pink symbolises the birth of a daughter on the star Toruk Makto came from.

"Morning, little sunshine," Neteyam whispers, thumb rubbing against a soft, chubby cheek as the little girl's flat tail begins swaying where it hangs by Neteyam's side lazily.

There's a high noise, very quiet before a tiny hand reaches up to grab a long braid adorned in white shells. She doesn't tug, doesn't pull, merely blinks large, pale eyes upon the shells.

It isn't even morning, but Neteyam often greets her like this after a nap.

Ao'nung is glad she sleeps a lot – when she's not fussing – because it means Neteyam can rest too.

"That's right," Neteyam smiles, eyes shining despite the bags under them. "They're shells."

They are in their own little bubble; Ao'nung doesn't disturb them, sitting outside to begin gutting his catch, ears focusing on Neteyam's voice.