He wakes early the next morning, departing their home with an extra buoyancy to his gait. He leaves High Camp, mounted on Tsawke, on a most important search. He knows what gift he wants to make for her: a bracelet with his colors and the color of her favorite flower. It takes time but he finds the material that meets his criteria.
He works on the bracelet whenever his family is asleep, painting and polishing the beads. When done, he stares at the bracelet. It sparkles in the light of the bladder lantern. A satisfied smile lights his lips. He’s still unsure though. He needs another opinion.
He finds Kiri and Ha’ew and in one of the more isolated areas of the cave shows them the bracelet. He gives a small shout when Ha’ew hugs him tightly, lifting him from the ground. “It’s about time!”
Kiri continues to inspect the bracelet. Once he’s back on his feet he looks to her expectantly. She beams at him. “It’s beautiful Neteyam. She’s definitely going to love it.”
“If she accepts it,” he mutters.
Ha’ew sidles close to him, “When are you going to give it to her?”
“Tomorrow afternoon.”
His sister puts a hand on her hip, smiling brightly at him. “We’ll cover for you. Right Ha’ew?”
“Of course.”
His father throws a feast that night to boost the morale of the tribe.
He sits next to his mother, eyes on the spectacle before him with rapt attention. A group of Omatikaya act out one of the many hunt stories through dance, their sanhi glowing in cascading patterns. The drums beat harder and they clap with more fervor as the story reaches its climax. When it's done they bow to loud whoops.
A jaunty tune picks up its rhythm beckoning them to dance. He spots Aitwu rise, no doubt to ask Naawri to dance, but Ha’ew, Eywa bless him, beats him to it. She sighs but accepts and the two join the others. He watches his people gambol about on the floor, their faces shining with a joy he hasn’t seen in awhile.
He rises to dance when his little sister tugs at his hand. They dance about his sister's giggling like sweetness to his ears. He spots his mother and father in the middle of the circle happy to see them both genuinely smiling, their arms around each other. His heart swells at the sight.
Once the majority of the underage have gone to bed, the beat changes. He knows this tune and the steps. They dance clockwise and counterclockwise, changing partners every time the massive drum sounds out.
Then oh Eywa, Naawri is in front of him lithe body moving sinuously to the undulating beat. His heart starts racing and not just because of the music. He swallows, but moves with her albeit a smidge stiff because he's trying to keep his eyes upward and his hands to himself.
She moves closer and his skin tingles. “You okay?” Why is her voice so husky right now?
No, he’s not okay. He’s trying to douse the warmth tightening in his belly. He only gives a stiff nod not trusting his voice to sound anything other than hoarse.
The laugh she gives almost turns him to goo. She takes his hand in hers moving closer. The tingling elevates to hot prickles from his eartips down.“Then dance with me.” She starts moving along to the beat, svelte body swaying sensuously.
He takes in a shuddering breath, her scent wafting into his nostrils. Eywa she smells sooo good. He swallows and starts moving with her. She smiles at him but there’s an edge to it that intrigues him.
Whatever it is between them snaps tighter than his bowstring drawing him in like a pali to nectar. They move as one, synchronized in a way characistic to lovers. She grins up at him and he mirrors it.
YOU ARE READING
The Stars in Your Skin
FanfictionOel ngati kameie. Sometimes love stares us directly in the face, unseen. Sometimes we see it, but we can't have it. Sometimes we just need a little courage. A Neteyam love story.
