Not a Soldier Yet |Ao'nung x Neteyam|

35. An Old Enemy

"I recognize you," a voice sneered, yanking on his hair. "You look just like her."

Neteyam glared up at him, heart hammering in his chest fiercely. He felt no fear, only blinding rage. The other male was speaking in English; Neteyam understood his every word and knew he was the one who wanted to kill his father.

"You must be an adult by now, huh," he grunted, voicing his thoughts mainly to himself. "At least I don't have to kill a kid."

Neteyam hissed, trashing against his hold, but Quaritch did not let him go, instead, he continued speaking. "Where is your father?"

"Seems like daddy dearest forgot to teach you his language," Quaritch sneered when he got no reply, only a glare from Neteyam. "Or perhaps you know exactly what I'm saying. Which one is it, na'vi boy?"

Quaritch's gaze fell lower, brows furrowing as he noticed something on Neteyam he did not seem to understand at first. He leaned down to inspect the area near the young na'vi shoulder before reeling back in apparent disgust. Neteyam hissed at him, but Quaritch only laughed as if handling a misbehaving child.
"No wonder you look just like her," he said. "You behave like her too. Mrs Sully cloned herself. She forgot to give you her fangs though, didn't she. You're not so menacing without them, you know."

The stranger leaned close to his face as another grabbed his que and a third bound his hands and ankles. He was forced to his knees. "Where is your father, boy? I will be nice once, but not again."

Neteyam bit his tongue, clenching his jaw. Not a voice left his throat as he was dragged to the railing, his knees burning as the rough surface of the battle ship skinned them. A soldier, a woman, tied him to railing with a strange rope he did not recognize. Neteyam glared at the na'vi, avatars perhaps, that stood around him, talking in hushed voices, seemingly discussing something regarding him. Neteyam swallowed, frustrated.

"Where in the Eywa is your brother, Lo'ak?" Jake yelled in distress, grabbing his youngest son by the arms.

Lo'ak flinched, averting his gaze. "I don't know, sir."

Kiri held onto Tuk tightly, watching the scene unfold with growing worry. Nobody has seen Neteyam for hours. Both his ilu and his tsurak were utterly distressed, but nobody understood the creatures. Rotxo and Ao'nung were looking for him in the forest while Tsireya and her mother swam out, hoping to find him somewhere in the waters.
Neytiri, placed a hand on Kiri's shoulder, her jaw slack with anger. Kiri pursed her lips and shivered as she tried to comfort a crying Tuk, rubbing her head gently.

"Ma Jake," Neytiri began, voice cold as ice. "We must ride out too."
"I'm coming too-" Kiri gasped, eyes wide with panic.

Jake's eyes softened and he let Lo'ak go, unaware of the tears threatening to fall from his youngest son's eyes. Lo'ak turned away from the others, slipping away silently. Nobody seemed to notice.

"Baby girl, I need you to look after Tuk," Jake said as he kneeled in front of his youngest child, pulling close.

"Is Neteyam okay?" Tuk sobbed against his shoulder.
Jake put on a brave face, trying to calm her down even if deep down he could tell something was horribly wrong. "I'm sure he just got lost somewhere."
Even he did not believe his own words, so how could he expect Tuk to? Jake stood and nodded to Kiri, who wrapped her arms around herself, and slipped out the door, Neytiri close on his heal, suggesting they fly separately.

Neteyam shivered as the fake na'vi around him eyed him with disgust.
"He looks like a girl, boss."

Quaritch chuckled cruelly. "He's got hickeys like a girl as well, don't you see them, Lyle?"

"Shit, you're right," the other laughed, voice laced with venom. "I can't imagine he makes Jake proud. He was so easy to capture."

"Sully's proud of anything that is big, blue and misses a finger." Quaritch fiddled with his gun, likely reloading it before looking around, seeing nothing but water. He gave instructions to turn the ship, assuming they were going in the wrong direction.

"Any idea where he could be hiding, Colonel?" The female questioned, blowing her bubble gum.

Neteyam stared down at his tied hands, feeling his heart sink at their words, beginning to doubt everything he ever achieved. Slowly, the na'vi boy lifted his gaze and watching the scenes in front of him unfold.
Nobody was paying attention to him in that moment.

"Sully?" Quaritch's voice rang out. "He has to be nearby if one of his runts is here." He glanced Neteyam's way, gaze lingering on his face - his expression was unreadable.

"We're lucky it's not the smaller one," someone grumbled. "This guy's pretty tame, isn't he?"

Neteyam exhaled slowly, trying to calm his racing heart and think of a way out. He understood that they were talking about his brother, but he pretended not to understand when they asked for him name. Neteyam knew how similar his name sounded to his mother's, and despite everyone already knowing who his parents were, he felt more at peace if he did not reveal anything to them. He adjusted his weight, watching as his blood stained the steel under him.

"You would think Sully would have taught his kids to fight," the female snorted. "This is getting boring."

Quaritch shrugged. He put his gun down and drew a small knife. "Then let's play, shall we?"

His men cheered and watched him approach Neteyam, who braced himself even though he had nowhere to run. Quaritch grabbed the back of his neck and forced him to look in his eyes, smirking. Neteyam held his gaze, willing his face to relax, as if unbothered by the throbbing pain in his neck. He refused to back down, it did not matter if there is no way for him to fight.

He was his mother's son.

A boot slammed onto his lower back, forcing him to sit down. A distant memory of his night with Ao'nung shot up his spine alongside the pain. The feeling filled him with a new kind of shame and disgust.