Chapter Text
The familiar splash of Lo'ak hitting the water causes a lurch in Neytiri's belly. She feels a pinch more hollow now that he isn't in the marui. Though she understands his need for his spirit brother, she still hates the carelessness with which he goes. Barely having eaten, not much more than a goodbye and a waterskin tied to his loincloth for a long day ahead.
Jake and their son still aren't speaking. She wishes that would change.
Tuk runs around as she grabs toys from around their home, talking with her mouth still full with her last bite of food about all the great games she will play today. She has made friends in Awa'alu. For this, Neytiri is grateful. But as her littlest daughter goes, her worry intensifies, and she feels oddly abandoned. Still, she musters up a quick be safe and goodbye to her child with a gentle smile. She might have her issues with letting go, but she won't allow that side of her to make Tuktirey unhappy or unable to see her friends.
When they still lived in the forest, Tuktirey loved to stay with her mother sometimes. She'd tell Popiti no when the girl would come ask her to play. Too in need of her mother's attention to leave their home. And they'd do something fun together. That all stopped in Awa'atlu. The worst part was that Neytiri wasn't sure if it was simply Tuk growing up, or simply Neytiri being so closed off from everything, that no one wanted to be around her. Not even her littlest daughter.
She repeats a mantra in her head that all will be well, and as Kiri grabs Spider's arm and drags him out of their home, her mantra strengthens into a prayer.
She prays for the peace of her eldest, safe waters for Lo'ak. A fun day for Tuk with no scrapes or bruises, a less fond heart towards the boy for her eldest daughter. She continues her swaying and her prayer as Jake's hand lands on her shoulder. She does not open her eyes as he whispers for her to see Ronal today, a careful touch to the bandages that support her arm as a reminder. She wants to sob. She is so tired.
His steps fade away- and once she is finally done reaching out to the Great Mother, her eyes open, rooted to the spot where that boy had last been, before her daughter ushered him out. Spider. He is permanent now. Breathing their air. Accepted in this clan with their tattoos and their love alike. He had a community here. He was accepted here. By everyone but her. She would keep him an alien. It was her path.
She stands up, not allowing her face to show the grimace it wants to make when her arm has less support. She steps out of the marui, her bow in hand. She will go into the jungle to train. To try and find a way to shoot again.
But there he is again. Thankfully, not with her daughter now. Ronal is teaching Spider to make nets. With her pregnancy so far along, she's been taking on more jobs that require less movement. They sit on the marui path not too far away, Ronal's feet dangling in the water. Spider's feet not reaching the surface. The net is mostly thrown on her lap with only a corner on Spiders. Spider twirls and seaweed stands together, while Ronal braids them into the correct netting shape. They speak with hushed tones, too quiet for Neytiri to hear, but clearly about a topic they are fond of, since both of them support small smiles as their conversation ensues.
They look comfortable. Sated. Neytiri hates it.
She feels a twinge in her chest. One that infuriates her enough to huff and rush off, not wanting to witness their companionship any longer. And yet behind a thicker pole, she stills. A murmur in the air reaches her ears, and they twitch into position to listen better. She feels the need to know what they are speaking of. Wants information on what puts a smile on the boy's face. What intrigues Ronal so.
"And is it is a fisher you long to be? Tonowari says you are skilled enough."
Spider ponders: "Do you want an honest answer or a practical one?"
Ronal smiles wider: "It is your future here we are speaking of. Honesty from her heart is what I ask for."
Kiri had been asked if she wanted to continue learning to heal. Lo'ak had been asked if he wished to join warrior training. And now they were asking Spider about his future here? Neytiri's head thuds against the pole.
"I don't like it."
"Fishing?"
"Killing-" Neytiri's head snaps to look past the pole at the boy. "Even if it's fish. Killing for food feels unnatural to me. I know the way we do it is fast, and they feel no pain. That it's a part of the cycle to Eywa. But I feel like they don't even have a chance to escape me. They're too small to fight back, and it makes me feel like I have no right to kill them."
For a second, one of the nightmares Neytiri has had in the past flashes in front of her eyes. His small throat in a singular hand of hers, pushing him to the ground so he can't breathe. Dragging him by the hair into the woods, never to be seen again. How he wails and how it does nothing. Helpless and weak. Not a match for her.
With a blink, she's back in reality and charging into the jungle. She's heard enough about his gentleness. That admirable quality of weakness that she can no longer afford.
At supper, she finds out he wants to weave baskets.
The next day, she refuses to look their way as she passes by.
Her arm hurts. It feels like it pains her more and more each day. It's the bow training, and she knows it. Still, she can't give it up.
Spider had been the first in the marui the night before. And she finds he's placed her herbs closer to the home fire, as well as her cooking utensils. She doesn't have to make any extreme movements to reach them now.
She ignores this gesture.
The next day, the boy spends with Kiri and Lo'ak, not seeing Ronal once.
Neytiri knows this because she decided to stay in the marui all day, not feeling drawn to the jungle.
Her heart settles a bit. From the front of their home, she can see Tuk running around with her friends. And Lo'ak and Kiri's heads bob up from the water every once in a while as they try to teach the boy to hold his breath for longer.
At night, their family dinner is far less charged. The air is more comfortable. It's... odd, but it lifts a sensation from Neytiri's chest.
She sees Ronal and Spider everywhere. The metkayina woman has taken it upon herself to teach Spider to basket weave.
In the jungle, she sees them learning about the types of different fibres on the island and what kind of baskets each of them makes. On the beach, Ronal teaches the boy to make a wet sand blend with mud to protect his fingers while weaving so that they don't unnecessarily roughen or ache. By their home, they sit in a slightly more secluded spot on the marui paths, close enough to hear their chatter into their marui but not clearly enough to understand.
It maddens her. The boy is ever-present. And well-liked. He has acceptance from the Tsahìk in a way that the rest of her family doesn't. Even though they are Na'vi. He is an outsider.
She wants to tell him to change teachers. Wants to demand that he learns to basket weave from an elder tribe member. Surely there was someone better suited than the Tsahìk?
All of this irks her.
He comes back to the marui so happy. Even if he hasn't spent any time with her children that day.
"Why must I tell you to rest again? Have I not ordered it enough?" Ronal asks with a venomous bite to her tongue while she tightens Neytiri's bandages again. The salve she uses burns underneath.
Neytiri can't bring herself to look at the woman. She doesn't want to see her face, doesn't want to hear her voice at all. Yet the woman practically haunts her as Neytiri watches the boy.
"The boy-" Ronal starts.
"What of the boy!" Neytiri hisses with her words, her jaw jutting out to show her teeth. How dare Ronal bring him up to her? Is her hatred for him not evident enough? Isn't it clear to the woman that there is no place on Eywa'eveng where Neytiri could go where the boy would be far enough away to disappear from her mind? /pandora/
Ronal pulls on the bandage, and Neytiri can't help but hiss with her pain. "He says you do not rest. That you go to the jungle with your bow each day."
"I do not hide this," Neytiri says back, refusing to act like a child being scolded.
Ronal swipes a sticky liquid onto the edge of the bandage and then presses it to Neytiri's shoulder to secure it in place. "I do not care about you enough to think of you throughout the day. Whether you hide it or not, it will make no difference in my not noticing it. But the boy noticed." Ronal begins to gather her supplies and put them away. She turns her back to Neytiri, and it is clear it is her time to leave. "He wants me to do something about it. I will not. But I will recommend that you work on your stubbornness. Before your injury becomes permanent."
Her eyes follow him with ease. She is so used to it now.
Lo'ak leaves, Tuk leaves, Kiri leaves with a grip on Spider's arm.
Jake goes next.
Neytiri exits after her prayers, seeing that Spider and Kiri have parted ways, and the boy sits once again by the Tsahík's side. Getting up periodically to get her something so that she can stay seated and resting.
He takes care of her in little ways. And Neytiri hates it.
They've spoken of her, and she knows that now. It makes her mouth taste strange. All bad things, she is sure of it. They must point out her flaws and shortcomings. Especially as a mother.
Aonung and Tsireya check up on their mother at least thrice a day. Neytiri's children do not.
Neytiri's tail flicks agitated. Spider adores this woman. Clearly. Why?
If he could, maybe he'd live in her marui by now. Neytiri slams a water skin she is holding into a pole. The leather catches on a nail and rips open. The water spills along the pole like little rivers. Her hand is wet. She hates it. This would have never happened in her forest.
"Boy, go fishing today," Neytiri speaks up as Kiri is ducking out of the marui with him.
"What?" Kiri questions before Spider can agree.
Neytiri doesn't bother to turn around and face them as she continues to clear up breakfast. "I said- the boy needs to go fishing."
"He has a-" Kiri starts to fight, but Spider stops her with a hand to her upper arm.
"For dinner," Neytiri specifies. It is to soothe her daughter, not to give a genuine explanation to her command. She'd never allow the boy to question her, but her daughter can have an explanation even when it's not been asked for. "I crave fish. And I can not fish." Her hand places momentarily on her bandage before she continues to clear up their bowls.
Spider nods and pushes Kiri along out of the marui: "Of course, Mrs. Sully. I'll be back with some before you start cooking."
She wants him to fail. She knows now he doesn't like to fish. Doesn't like to kill for a meal. But he kills for her anyway. Just because she said to. He doesn't even act like a moody teen by fishing for something she openly dislikes eating, like feathertail fish that has a bitter taste. He catches glider fins with a net. It's her favorite.
She watches him throw the net for over an hour, just to get enough fish to feed their family.
And after he brings the fish, he silently helps her gut them and throws the scraps to the ilu. Even strokes the fire while she cooks since she only has one hand free to use, and glider fins need to be continuously rotated on a spit above the fire so that it doesn't taste charred.
It's the first meal she genuinely enjoys since her injury. She feels stronger after eating.
It's maddening.
After the meal, the boy bolts after Kiri. Inconspicuously carrying the two leftover fish on a board by his hips. Neytiri leans on the side of the marui, trusting its shadow to shield her. The boy brings the fish for Ronal to eat. The woman takes them with a smile, tugging Spider with her into their marui where the home fire still blazes, her family surely still in the middle of a meal.
The Tsahík's kids stay longer after. They speak as a family- they have fun at dinner.
And now Spider has provided for their family as well.
With Neytiri's favorite fish!