Shell-Shocked
(Neteyam x Reader)
Previous Chapter <- Epilogue
If you prefer to read on Ao3, you can find the fic here!
Summary: Find us in the future.
Word Count: 3,649
Metkayina Reader uses they/them pronouns.
Initially, you had hoped that when the pink inevitably faded from your life, it wouldn’t hit you as hard because you had chosen to discard it before it could do so.
In hindsight, the plan had been a stupid one, because you hadn’t really known Neteyam Sully. You had assumed your advances would never be reciprocated and had instead withdrawn to protect yourself. Which just showed that although you'd taken the time to know him as an individual - and had found that he was fun and quick with retorts - it didn’t really prove that you knew him.
You wouldn’t have gotten a chance to really. Not before the shells. Not before everything happened.
But now, you had unwillingly begun to learn his tells and preferences whilst helping him recover.
In truth, you hadn’t realised you were doing it. Not until you’d realised you could decipher his displeasure from a simple twitch of his nose, particularly when it came time to take his medicine. And although he pulled on his politest and most convincing smile, you could still tell.
And again, when you could tell he was excited, simply by the aborted flick of his right ear because he was focusing too hard on suppressing the tug of a smile at his lips to realise he was doing it.
And again, when you could tell he was trying to suppress his wince as you changed his bandages, because of the way his tail would slap against the floor once, before he subtly pressed a hand down over it to keep it from jumping.
You now knew - unwillingly - how he preferred his ilu saddle to be stored after being firmly told off when you’d done so incorrectly the first time. You now knew the name of his ikran (you’d had to feed her), as well as the exact year he’d crafted his first bow, and that it had been wood scavenged from his clan’s first HomeTree. You now knew that he preferred to sleep closest to the hut opening when sharing a hammock, and that Tuk often went to him instead of his parents when she had a nightmare.
You now knew how easy it was to get him to smile. You knew when to hug him and when to back off because he was brooding. You knew that he preferred iridescent sea snails to the blue ones because he found them ‘sweeter’. You knew that he missed home, but had found a home beside the sea. You knew that he was brave, and reckless - although he hid it better than Lo’ak.
You also knew the face he pulled when he was trying not to cry. An expression similar to your own, as the pair of you packed up his hammock in preparation for the move.
In the end, despite their best efforts, the Sully children had been fruitless in changing their parents’ minds. And as Jake had warned, they made good on their promise to leave as soon as Neteyam was strong enough.
Which led you to now, dutifully helping Neteyam pack his few belongings away in a sturdy pack, hours away from losing him for good. Which meant you were merely a few hours away from discovering just how badly it would hurt to have the pink shells disappearing too.
Beyond the empty hut, the air was thick with condensation and humidity as a storm rolled in from the sea. Overhead, thick, darkly bruised clouds shrouded the skies, forcing the villagers to light the torches before noon - not that they remained lit for long with the unforgiving winds.
At dawn, the Sullys’ ikran had already landed on the beach with Jake to greet them. Throughout the day, the mounts had been tacked up and loaded with bags. Only Neteyam and Kiri still had things strewn around the hut. The former, because he’d been too weak to do it on his own, and the latter, in silent rebellion against her parents. It had taken Neytiri threatening to leave it all behind and only take Kiri, for the girl to finally begin packing.
It took great effort to keep your body language loose and pleasant as you worked alongside Neteyam, listening to Kiri muttering to herself in the corner. When you weren’t actively thinking of them, your ears kept drooping down, forcing you to focus on both your hands and microexpressions.
Across from you, gingerly rolling up his hammock, Neteyam wasn’t looking as well put together. His expression was resigned, his eyes foggy with unshed moisture he couldn’t hope to blink away, unless he wanted it to roll down his cheeks. His bandages were off, the scar tissue beneath still angry and raw, looking much better than it had before.
<”It won’t be forever.”> Neteyam finally said, abruptly startling you out of your head. You inhaled shakily and sat back on your hunches as you looked up at him, your eyes greedily absorbing every detail of him whilst you still could. He looked gorgeous, his freckles glowing softly in the dim light, a couple braids pulled over one shoulder. <”I’ll come back.”> He promised, trying for a smile. His courting necklace bobbed as he tightly swallowed.
You struggled to make your smile reassuring. You both knew there was a chance he wouldn’t, although neither of you acknowledged it. <Only when it’s safe.”> You said firmly, leaving no room for argument, and ensuring to use ‘when’ rather than ‘if’. <”I don’t want you travelling back here if you’re just going to get shot again.”>
He winced around a sad smile. <”Okay.”>
<”Promise?”>
Neteyam shook his head, but he was smiling the way he usually does when he thought you’re being overly cautious. <”Promise.”>
Something in your chest loosened. <”Okay. I’ll be waiting.”>
His tail dropped from its tense coil at your quiet promise. <”You will?”>
<”Of course I will.”>
And you would. Even if he never came back. Even if he returned to the forest and ignored the shells to find a mate amongst his old People. Even if he returned but had changed his mind. You would wait, because you were fairly certain Neteyam was it for you. That Eywa had promised correctly when she’d sent that first, significant shell during that very first swimming lesson.
Neteyam was across the pod and dragging you into his arms before you could even register he’d moved. Over his shoulder, you briefly registered Kiri slipping out of the pod with her arms weighed down with bags, but you discarded the observation as quickly as it came. Neteyam had tucked his head down beneath your chin and was holding onto you tightly. Remembering you had arms, you wrapped them around him and held on, your cheek squished into his braids as you blinked back tears.
There were no more words of comfort to offer, so all you could do was stare blankly at the wall whilst Neteyam shook in your arms. Absently, you carded a hand through his braids, feeling his tense body loosen under your repetitive touch.
By the time Jake appeared in the doorway, uttering sadly that it was time to go, Neteyam had gone almost completely boneless in your hold.
From there, it only took minutes to take everything down to the beach between the three of you. The other kids were already readying their ikran, ears lowered and expressions grim as Neytiri tried to urge them along with soft words.
A few members of the clan watched the sad procession, but mostly, the people were continuing on with their chores. Tonowari stood silently at the head of the sandbank, a stark contrast to the day the Sullys had first arrived.
All too soon, there was nothing left to do, and Neteyam had tied down the last of his belongings. Not too far from where you stood, you could already hear Tsireya sniffling, whilst Lo’ak quietly calmed her, his voice struggling to come out as reassuring.
With a sigh, Neteyam turned to you, his expression as blank as your own. You stared right back as his wet eyes met yours. His golden eyes briefly flickered across your face, committing the sight of you to memory as his lower lip quivered. You smiled tightly, raising a hand in silent question.
His composure threatened to break as he hugged you again. Wrapping you up so tightly that even his tail joined in. You clung back just as fiercely, hating that now that you finally had this, it was being taken away from you. Hating that you wasted those early months being childish instead of communicating. Hating the humans for having the audacity to set foot on Pandora, before being grateful they did or you would’ve never met him in the first place. Hating that there just wasn’t enough time for everything you wanted to say and do.
<”Kids.”> Jake prompted, which was enough for Neteyam’s hold to loosen on you. Gently, he set you back down, before pulling back. Reluctantly, you let him go, unsure whether the wetness on your cheeks were tears or the rain that had begun to fall.
<”I’ll see you.”>
<”Yeah.”> He offered half-heartedly, <”I’ll see you.”>
Within hours of the ikran disappearing over the horizon, the pink shells disappeared from your life.
>_<
In those first few days after they had left, you’d foolishly tricked yourself into believing they would return in no time. That if you kept yourself busy, Neteyam would come strutting back into your life like he never left. That he would appear out of nowhere, and declare how much he missed you, before sweeping you up into another hug.
But of course, that didn’t happen. And couldn’t happen until the Sky People had retreated. No news came from the forest clans after the Sky People moved away from the seas, focusing their hunt inland. But no news was good news, you tried to convince yourself and instead buried yourself in clan life.
Years passed.
You passed your iknimaya and made a name for yourself amongst the hunters, earning your first tattoos. Closely followed by Aonung and Tsireya when they were ready. You grew into an adult, weathered by time but strong and reliable. A formidable foe should the Sky People return their attention to the sea clans.
In the meantime, Tonowari retired from his position as Olo’eyktan, allowing Aonung to step up despite not having found his own fated yet. Whilst Ronal remained Tsahik in the meantime.
Tsireya became a well respected healer, under her mother’s watch, but never quite lost that longing look in her eye. A look you knew was evident in your own gaze if you stayed still for too long.
You filled your time between patrols with teaching the younger kids how to swim and connect to their ilus. It was long tedious hours and hard work, but it kept you occupied. Not to mention, the children were more unpredictable than the open, empty oceans you ventured into during your patrols.
<”Almost Otok,”> you repeated for the fourth time that afternoon, the sun hot and unforgiving against your back as you readjusted the boy’s grasp on his ilu harness. <”But remember, you have to go with her, not against her.”>
Ever the good student, Otok nodded that he understood as he had the last time, so you stepped back and watched him urge the ilu on. And as before, the pair dove, only for Otok to lose his grip and for his mount to continue swimming away. You sighed quietly to yourself, already wading towards where the kid was kicking to the surface.
<”Very good.”> You encouraged, allowing him to grab onto your arm whilst he flicked his braids out of his face. <”You stayed on for much longer that time.”> He hadn’t, but you’d learnt that the younger kids responded to encouragement better than criticism.
Otok grinned up at you, all big fangs in his too small mouth. You smiled back. <”Go on, call her back.”> He let go of you to call for his ilu, before you moved onto the next kid.
That was when your eyes fell on it. Caught in the gentle current of a nearby swell.
A single, pink shell.
You felt your mouth unlatch at the sight of it. At how brightly pink it was. Where the ones in your childhood had been varying shades of pastel pink, this one was boldly, unapologetically pink.
You were lunging for it before you could properly think. Your fingers greedily snatching up from the waves before bringing it up to eye level. It was as gorgeous as all the others had been.
Overhead, twin ikran calls startled you and your students. Your head snapped skywards just in time to watch the two beasts pass overhead on their way to the village.
Your brow furrowed at the sight. How strange. Only the forest clans were brave enough to tame the ikran, and no forest na’vi came this far out to sea, not since…
Your heart was in your throat as you watched the ikran circle. One a deep blue, the other a familiar light teal. You could not recognise the riders aboard from this distance, but there was no mistaking Lo’ak’s joyous whoop as he mount circled before smoothly landing on the same sandbank the Sully’s had all those years ago.
Hope flared violently to life in your chest. Enough so that you almost abandoned your class without ending the lesson.
<”Class dismissed.”> You quickly barked, to the bewildered expressions of your students, whilst hastily shoving the shell into the pouch at your hip for safe keeping. <”I will see you all tomorrow.”>
The kids glanced at one another before the older ones shrugged and began guiding their ilus in the direction of the ikran. Curious, the younger ones followed their lead.
Your heart was pounding as you yipped for your tsurak who had been circling nearby, as he often did whilst you taught. He had barely slowed at your side before you were clambering on and urging him forward. With powerful beats of his tail, the great beast leapt from the waves, soaring over the heads of your students and continuing on. <”CHEATER!”> Some of them yelled at your back, to which you turned in the saddle and called them all a pack of sea slugs. Their laughter was quickly drowned out by the sounds of the gathering crowd.
Aonung was already greeting the visitors by the time your tsurak slowed in the water. Dressed in his Olo’eyktan attire, he clasped forearms with an older Lo’ak whilst Ronal waited off to the side.
The younger Sully son had finally grown into his long limbs. WIth waist length braids pulled back into a neat ponytail and a gorgeous blue cummerbund wrapped around his torso, marking his entrance into adulthood. After an exchange of biting greetings, the pair parted, and Lo’ak stepped aside to greet Ronal, whilst Aonung turned his attention to Neteyam.
You sat high in the saddle, obscured by the crowd as your fated stepped forth to greet the new Olo’eyktan. Even with his back to you, you knew he was smiling. He was all broad back muscles now, and tall, almost taller than Aonung who rivalled Tonowari in height since his last growth spurt. You saw the power in him as he firmly clasped forearms with Aonung, his resulting laugh ringing out across the bay, causing something raw and homesick to awaken in your chest.
You wanted to go to him. Your hand subconsciously fiddling with your worn courting gift still secured at your throat, but something held you back. Something like fear kept you crouched in the saddle upon your tsurak, hidden by the gathering crowd with the water lightly lapping at your toes.
Had you changed too much since he’d last seen you? Would he even recognise you? You’d grown into yourself, sure. You had several tattoos now, marks you were proud of. Marks that symbolised your victories, as well as your failures. Were they impressive enough? Would he be proud? Or would he recognise you and have to force himself to keep smiling?
A joyous screech startled you into looking back to the sandbar. Tsireya had broken through the crowd, her cheeks glistening with tears as she raced across the sand towards Lo’ak, who’s ears wiggled in excitement. His arms swept wide as Tsireya threw herself at him. The young man barely managed to stay on his feet as his arms grasped her thighs and her arms locked around his neck. They laughed together as they swayed, Tsireya only pulling back enough to pepper his brow with relieved kisses.
<”Come on!”> One of your students complained, suddenly appearing at your side with an impatient tug on your tail, startling your attention away from the pair.
The rest of the class were close to catching up, whilst the older ones tried and failed to drag you towards the sandbar. The quiet ones went no closer than where your tsurak drifted, but you could tell from their curious glances that they were just waiting for your go ahead to show that the visitors were safe to approach.
Inhaling a calming breath, you patted your tsurak and dismounted. The kids were quick to fall into step as you waded towards the sandbar. Someone grabbed onto the end of your tail as a younger Tsireya had whilst wandering the village, whilst another grabbed for your fingers, causing you to smile as they squeezed lightly. Your class remained close to your side until you set foot on dry sand, which prompted them to disburse in search of their parents and family members, leaving you to watch Neteyam from the safety of the crowd.
It hurts to see him after so many years. To have him standing so close but so out of reach.
The bullet scar adorning his chest had faded with time. Blending in better with the rest of his complexion, but you knew where to look for it. A blatant reminder of the warnings you had failed to correctly interpret.
A hand unexpectedly grabbed your forearm, dragging you out of your mind. Your gaze snapped down, finding Tsireya grinning back at you. Your eyes narrow as her grin turned into a mischievous smirk. Over her shoulder, you could see Lo’ak shaking his head, whereas Neteyam had his back to you, his head on a swivel as he scanned the crowd.
<”Don’t-”>
She yanked you from the depths of the crowd before the threat could fall from your tongue. The People parted for you easily. Those you had grown up with, and remembered what had happened, gave you reassuring pats on the shoulders. Whereas a few shoved at you, yelling inaudibly about courage.
You tripped and staggered your way to the front. Eyes wide in bewilderment as Tireya kept a firm grip on you. Her smirk turned into bright laughter as her grip alone kept you moving. Kept you from turning tail in shame and diving back into the sea.
Then she let go, and retreated back to Lo’ak who welcomed her back with soft eyes and open arms.
Leaving you to stand alone in the middle of the sandbar, feeling stupidly exposed and small. Left to gawk at Neteyam like some lovesick fool.
There was no false bravado to hide behind this time. No resting bitch face that could suppress the look of awe on your open features. No lesson to teach, in which to distract yourself or turn the attention off of you.
There was just Neteyam.
Gorgeous, kind Neteyam, who’s eyes had blown wide at the sight of you and your sudden appearance. Whose tail had pricked in interest. His ears fanned wide, and his hands half raised as if unsure whether he was allowed to reach for you.
He still wore the necklace, you abruptly realised. It jumped and wiggled against his throat as he swallowed dryly. More worn and badly woven than you remembered, but undoubtedly there. Still there where he had put it all those years ago.
Rolling his eyes, Lo’ak shoved at his brother’s shoulder.
Neteyam visibly collected himself and took a step forward. Then another.
His surprise melted away and it was as if the tension shattered. You caught a glimpse of that bright smile aimed your way and feeling finally returned to your legs.
Your tail was wagging, ears pricking comically as you took off at a dead sprint along the sandbar. The People cheered, your friends throwing in their own two cents as you kicked up sand.
Neteyam laughed at your eagerness. Arms sweeping wide as you closed in. He started speaking, probably some cheesy line about not seeing you in years, but it was too late to slow down. In a painful clash of jewellery and bones, you knocked him straight off his feet.
He landed hard on his back, the wind getting punched out of him as his head hit the sand. You landed gracelessly on his chest, arms slamming into the sand on either side of his head. Neteyam stared up at you in awe, whilst your cheeks heated.
<”Told you I’d come back.”> He murmured, his hand rising to cup your cheeks, before he promptly dragged you down and onto him. Without warning, he was peppering kisses all over your face, against each of your glowing freckles, up the slope of your nose and then back down your temple. You wiggled and squirmed, everything else melting away as you basked in his attention, in the weight of him under you.
You knew your ears were wiggling uncontrollably under his attention, that your tail was wagging and you were probably purring loudly enough for everyone to hear, but you couldn’t find it in you to give a shit. He was back. He had come back. Just like he promised.
~ Fin ~
Previous Chapter <- Epilogue
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