Ocean Skies - Loreya

Lay All Your Love on Me

Ao'nung's ears perk up. He furrows his brows, anticipation settling in his core. Lo'ak is nearby somewhere, likely high up in the tree, whimpering quietly, breath hitching with agonised sobs.

The Metcayina, though he is usually annoyed by the youngest Sully boy, feels his heart soften. He knows he'll never be able to climb high enough on his own to see Lo'ak, so he chooses to call out to the younger male.

"Lo'ak?"

The sobs cut off.

Ao'nung purses his lips, staring up, trying to catch a glimpse of the young male among the large, colourful swirls of tropical leaves. The soft black tuffs of fur at the end of Lo'ak's tail peek out.

Just as Ao'nung anticipated, he's too high up for the ocean na'vi to reach on his own. "Lo'ak, I can see you."

"No—" comes the soft, helpless reply.

"You trying to tell me what I can see, baby Sully?" Ao'nung chuckles, shaking his head in amusement. "Come down, will you?"

"And if I don't?" Lo'ak asks, defiance seeping into his voice.

Ao'nung crosses his arms over his check, snorting. "I'll get your brother."

"Ugh," Lo'ak grunts, rubbing at his eyes roughly to rid them of the moisture before sniffling and swiftly climbing down, jaw aching from how hard he's clenching his teeth. "What do you want?"

"Why are you crying?" Ao'nung tilts his head.

Lo'ak steps back from him, offended. "I'm not."

Ao'nung only hums, reaching up quickly to poke the Omaticaya's cheek with a single fingertip before holding it up for Lo'ak to see. His skin shines from the tear he caught.

Lo'ak's ears flatten, tail twitching behind him in agitation. "I'm not—"

"Fine. Then, tell me why you're not-crying." Ao'nung flicks the droplet away and waits patiently for the younger to say something, noting the bruise on his cheek, tinting the deep blue skin purple.

His eyes trail down to the five-fingered feet, and he frowns, noting blood smeared along one. Lo'ak follows his gaze and swiftly digs his toes into the leaves on the forest-floor, hiding his feet.

"Did you fight someone?" Ao'nung tries again, keeping his voice void of the growing frustration at Lo'ak's silence.

"No."

Ao'nung sighs softly. "Did someone try to fight you?"

"No."

Ao'nung shuts his eyes, counting slowly in his head. He can hear Lo'ak shuffling around awkwardly, but the Omaticaya doesn't try to leave. "Fine, don't tell me. Will you tell my sister?"

Lo'ak's mouth falls open in surprise. "Your sister?"

Ao'nung shrugs, watching the other's face carefully. "Neteyam?"

"No."

"Good. Then you can tell me," Ao'nung replies, smirking. He takes a step closer to Lo'ak and lightly grasps his arm, tugging him along to a soft, mossy rock to sit down.

Lo'ak pulls his knees up, resting his cheek against them. Again, Lo'ak stays quiet.

"Tell me," Ao'nung begins, resting a hand on Lo'ak's upper back, patting him gently. "What trouble did you get into now?"

"I stepped on Tuk's toy," Lo'ak admits glumly, blinking quickly as the memories surface.

Ao'nung's hairless brows furrow, but otherwise he doesn't reach much. "And you're crying because of that?"

"I'm not crying—" Lo'ak protests weakly.

"Fine. Is that why you're not-crying?" Ao'nung insists, hand never leaving Lo'ak's back, choosing to rub lazy circles into the warm skin.

Lo'ak cracks a fragile smile that doesn't quite light up his eyes like Ao'nung had hoped it would. The young na'vi wraps his arms around himself and nods. "Yeah."

"Can it not be fixed?" Ao'nung hints, nose twitching from a small bug flying too close.

Lo'ak's smile falls and his breath hitches. "Dad said he would."

"Then what's the problem?" Ao'nung hums, trying his best to find the right words to keep coaxing information out of Lo'ak.

"He was upset at me for breaking it."

"But now he'll fix it," Ao'nung responds easily. "So, you can forget about it."

Lo'ak's face softens, a sad glint tinting his golden gaze a dull yellow. "I guess.2

Ao'nung doesn't feel like beating around the bruise. His hand comes to rest on Lo'ak's bruising cheek, thumb rubbing gently right under his eye. "Did he do this?"

The reaction is delayed; Lo'ak's eyes go blank before they widen and he gasps, pulling back so fast he nearly topples over the side of the rock if it wasn't for Ao'nung catching him by the arm and pulling him back upright.

"Just for breaking a toy?" Ao'nung whispers, head lolling to the side, trying to understand. The only few times Tonowari had hit him, Ao'nung genuinely did stupid things, like leaving Lo'ak alone with an akula or stealing his mother's rarest herbs and wasting them.

Lo'ak calms down easily when he notices to harsh judgement from Ao'nung. "I broke his plate as well a little bit ago. Really, it's my fault. I shouldn't annoy him."

Ao'nung doesn't miss the tremble in Lo'ak's voice as he fights off his tears again. Silently, the Metcayina wraps his arms around Lo'ak's slender form, tugging him close and right into his lap like he would often do for Tsireya when something upsets her.

Lo'ak tenses before relaxing in the Metcayina's arms, pressing his face into the crook of his neck. Ao'nung, despite the flush on his cheeks, coos to him softly, letting the younger male's tears wet his skin uncomfortably for the better part of the next hour or so.

Eventually, Lo'ak falls asleep, and the sky darkens, so Ao'nung gathers the curled-up figure into his arms and walks out of the forest slowly, carefully, watching Lo'ak's face, realising just how small and young he looks when he isn't putting on a brave face.

Lo'ak may be an adult, but he'll never quite be the size of a Metcayina male. It makes Ao'nung feel protective over the younger male; he doesn't know why. Maybe, it is because Lo'ak is dear to Neteyam and Neteyam means a lot to Ao'nung that he feels this way about Lo'ak.

Perhaps, it's because Tsireya walks like she's floating after every secret meeting, that she spends with Lo'ak, and she thinks Ao'nung doesn't know about.

Whatever it is, Ao'nung doesn't care. Lo'ak makes many people happy, sometimes him, too. It's his turn to comfort the young Omaticaya.

Ao'nung carries Lo'ak home, setting him down in his own bed, ignoring his mother's questioning gaze as she eyes the intruder.

'He is tired.' Ao'nung signs to her.

Ronal nods, going back to making fine powder out of some colourful, deep red shells.

Lo'ak curls up in Ao'nung's bed, tail grasped loosely in one hand.