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“He’s kinda your type,” Rotxo says to Ao’nung, nodding towards the eldest Sully brother.
“Dude, what?” Ao’nung replies, scandalised. “What do you mean ‘my type?’”
“You know, tall, lean– well he’s leaner than most but could also kick your ass if he wanted to.”
Ao’nung’s expression looks even more scandalised than when the conversation began. “That is not my type–”
“That is your type. Remember Lefnele? The girl you drooled over for a while, she was like the Metkayina version of him.”
Ao’nung is quiet, considering for only a second before shaking his head and steeling his expression. “I do not like him.”
“That’s not what I said, I’m just saying he’s your type.”
“He is not my type and I do not like. Him.”
Rotxo shrugs, “whatever you say, man.”
Tsireya calls for them before the conversation can continue, and they just leave it at that.
——————
Rotxo had known Ao’nung since the two could barely touch the bottom of the shallow waters. He remembers vividly the first time he had met the other, small body standing tall and proud like the chief’s son he was born to be. Had introduced himself with a confidence no kid their age had quite reached yet. While Rotxo had quietly introduced himself back, at some point that very day they had declared themselves the best of friends.
It’s one of his fondest memories.
Ao’nung is the brother he never had. He knows the other like he knows the back of his own hand.
Which is why it came to a shock to Rotxo when he had heard Ao’nung had left Lo’ak outside the reef.
In the years he’s known the other, Ao’nung had always treated others in their village with a subtle kindness, and was able to gain respect from the young hunters their age. Though, in recent times he’s had his unseemly moments, he’s never done something like this before.
He approaches Ao’nung when the announcement of the search party was sent out, patting his back and trying to get a good look at the other’s face. “You good?”
Ao’nung breathes heavily through his nose, dismissing his question with a slight shake of head slightly and shrugging his shoulder off him.
Neteyam storms towards them, with Kiri trailing behind and before Rotxo could get another question out, he pushes harshly against Ao’nung’s shoulder to face him properly. “Why did you do that?” Neteyam interrogates, jaw set and posture rigid. “Do you find it that funny? Leaving him for dead?”
“It was not my idea–” Ao’nung tries to refute but Neteyam is stepping into his space, interrupting him.
“Doesn’t matter. You were there, you let it happen, you contributed.” His expression stays scarily stoic but his eyes hold the fury of a protective older brother. “Lo’ak is doing everything he can to get accepted, to gain respect which he shouldn’t have to do in the first place because he is Na’vi. Like me.” He points towards Ao’nung and pushes a finger to the other’s chest, making Ao’nung take a step back. “Like you, like my sister.” He gestures to Kiri who is standing beside Rotxo, arms crossing over herself and haze hard-set on the pair in front of them, “and everyone else in this village. Extra finger or not.”
“Did you know?” Kiri asks softly beside him, her large eyes swimming with worry.
“No, no. I didn’t know,” he says to her. “Ao’nung has never done anything like this so I– I don’t know why…” In the corner of his eye he sees Ao’nung storm off elsewhere. He gives a quick apology to Kiri and a sympathetic gaze to Neteyam before running to catch up to his best friend.
Ao’nung walks quickly along the canopy pathways, heading to the beach.
“Ao’nung! Hey,” he says, catching up to his large steps. “What was that?”
“I don’t know,” he mutters, focusing purely on the ground before him.
“C’mon Ao’.” He grabs his best friend's arms, stopping him in his step. “I know you’re impulsive sometimes–”
“I don’t know! Alright?! I don’t– I was just pissed off and the opportunity was there to play a bit of a prank. To warn that freak not to mess with me.” He waves his hands around frustratedly, avoiding locking eyes with Rotxo. “I don’t actually want him to die,” he says a little quieter. Ao’nung’s ears flick dowards, large body slumped over on himself as if he wanted to curl into a ball. “I just– I didn’t want to lose their respect,” Ao’nung admits, finally, his voice barely above a whisper.
Rotxo gazes at him with sympathy, his grip on the other’s upper arm loosening and coming to pat at his shoulder once and giving it a firm squeeze. “They do respect you. But not because you put everyone down, but because you are a helpful around the village, you show the children the basics of our ways and you are a good hunter, one of the best in our age group.” He leans down a little to catch Ao’nung’s gaze, that vehemently refuses to leave the ground, “you do not need to fear losing the respect of others in the village over a little fight with the Omatikayas. The people of the village had always and will always trust you, respect you, no matter the mistakes you make or the fights you lose because you have proven to them before.” He sees Ao’nung’s head lift a little, his ears no longer flattened. He lets go of the other’s shoulder and takes a step back, an easy smile rising on his lips. “And we are still young, there’s still much for us to learn.”
Ao’nung’s quiet, as his mind considers what Rotxo had told him, forehead a little furrowed and lips a little pursed. Rotxo calls it Ao’nung’s thinking face and Ao’nung had always slapped him lightly in protest about it. Then, the corner of Ao’nung’s lips tick up a little. “Thanks.”
“Anytime, brother.”
Lo’ak was found not long after, lingering a little off to the edge of the reef. Though Rotxo doesn’t hear the conversation between his best friend and the younger Sully brother, he can tell they’ve, at the very least, made peace.
——————
They’re wading through shallow waters with the intent of gathering some ilu for some free swimming with the kind creatures. Lo’ak and Tsireya are quietly talking ahead of them, the young girl giggling at something Lo’ak had said, looking at her with nothing but a smile full of affection. Neteyam is behind him, he’s pretty sure, falling behind as he always does. Like he’s watching the entire group from behind. Rotxo had noticed he does that a lot, perhaps it was his instinct, a habit having sprouted from his position as the older brother. Rotxo peeks behind him from time to time just to make sure Neteyam is following, (he is, he always is, even if his eyes seem to be wandering elsewhere, looking for something else, he will never be too far behind his siblings).
Rotxo is walking beside Kiri and Tuk, the youngest Sully excitedly splashing around in the water as they walk while Kiri reprimands her to be careful and watch where she’s going. Rotxo cannot help the small grin as he watches the two sisters.
A particular soft spot has grown on him for the two girls. After weeks of training he’s come to notice how utterly endearing they are, Tuk in all her young innocence and child-like wonder packed in such a small, energetic body. And Kiri who is constantly fascinated by the world around her, oftentimes Rotxo would catch her a little farther off from the group, admiring the smallest of details within their beautiful reefs and when he joins her, she would ask him about the creatures, the plants, their way of life, genuine curiosity beaming through her large eyes.
“Kiri,” he hears a familiar deep voice behind him.
The three of them turn to find Ao’nung with Neteyam next to him and he looks quizzically at his best friend first who doesn’t return the stare. Then he looks at Neteyam, who glances back at him just as he mouths to him, “when did he get here?”
Neteyam only gives him a light shrug before turning back to Ao’nung, who’s gaze is intensely locked with Kiri’s.
“What?” Kiri asks, crossing her arms, defensive.
There’s a slight pause as Ao’nung breathes in deeply, as if he was working up the courage to say something. “I’m sorry,” he says, bowing his head in respect.
Kiri’s eyes widen, taken aback by the sudden apology. Neteyam leans forward looking like he’s trying to get a look at Ao’nung’s expression. And Rotxo’s chest blooms with pride for his best friend, the gesture is simple, sincerity goes a long way in their tribe. Ao’nung though strong, with the facade of a ferocious young warrior, is at his roots sincere. Seeping through the cracks of his pride.
“It was wrong of me to make fun of you and your brother,” he continues with a small gesture to Lo’ak, who had stopped in his tracks with Tsireya in tow. “I will do what I can to attain your forgiveness but until then I–”
“You are forgiven,” Kiri interrupts.
Ao’nung whips his head up, surprised.
Kiri takes a step towards him and places a hand on his shoulder, “may the Great Mother ease your burdens and may we come to a truce.” Kiri pushes his shoulder back lightly as she takes a step back too. Cryptically wise, always seeming as if she holds the secrets of the world in her words.
Ao’nung nods, slowly.
Kiri throws a smile and turns back around to keep walking. He sees Lo’ak and Tsireya do the same while Neteyam stays rooted to Ao’nung side, no longer wearing a face of indifference and Ao’nung only looks back at the older Sully with a mirroring expression.
Rotxo doesn’t think he’s seen such an expression on his best friend’s face before.
——————
Something shifts, after that.
During lessons Ao’nung stays close to Neteyam’s side. Always gravitating towards the eldest Sully brother and Neteyam lets him. Rotxo sees them, just in the corner of his eye, crowded together closely, shoulder to shoulder. When they sit in a group for breathing practice, Ao’nung’s eyes would always drift their way towards Neteyam. Watching the older Sully brother closely with the same look he gives when he is teaching the younger kids how to hunt, when he watches his younger sister successfully does a particularly hard braid and excitedly shows him and when he is admiring the people he can’t help but adore. It’s an expression that’s akin to fondness, in Ao’nung’s own subtle way. Rotxo had known the other long enough to discern that certain look from all his other looks (which admittedly are only, really smug and stressed).
Then, at some point, Neteyam and Ao’nung are seen regularly around the village together. Rotxo watches in the two in passing as they play together with Tuk in the shallow waters, as they weave baskets, descale and gut fishes, or even as they stand with water lapping at their thighs Ao’nung’s spear being passed between the two as they take turns throwing it, catching fish.
That surprised Rotxo the most.
Ao’nung’s spear is one of his most prized possessions. The head of the spear carved with the bone of an akula the Ole’eytkan had slayed, the very same one who’s row of teeth is now worn proudly against the chief’s neck. He had given it to Ao’nung, acknowledging his prowess and potential. Rotxo remembers watching, off to the side, as his best friend was gifted the glorious spear and Ao’nung had not let anyone, other than himself, touch it or use it. Not even Rotxo.
So the sight of Neteyam, holding Ao’nung’s spear– using Ao’nung’s spear with a practised form he must’ve also learnt from Ao’nung is a bit startling.
He tries to ask his best friend about it during the community dinner. Rotxo sits himself next to Ao’nung, the other already eating his way through his piece of fish and asks about the spear.
Ao’nung shrugs, half-heartedly. “I was just teaching him the proper way to hunt in the water.”
“Yeah, I know. But you have never let anyone and I mean anyone at all touch your spear since your dad had given it to you.”
“Were you expecting me to just steal someone else’s spear?”
“No but we have some spares in storage,” Rotxo says, slowly gauging the other’s reactions. “Remember the ones we used when we were kids? Or the ones you give to the kids?”
Ao’nung’s face shifts subtly before fixing itself back to his usual resting face. “I forgot.”
“Right.”
However, Rotxo doesn’t miss the slight pink shading his best friend’s cheek.
——————
Neteyam approaches him one sunny day. As he was walking along the canopy walkways towards the Tsahik’s marui, to pick up some medication for his grandmother, the older Sully brother had called his name from a little ways away.
“Oh! Hey, Neteyam,” he greets as the other stops in front of him.
“Hey, Rotxo. I have um– a question.”
“I haven’t seen Ao’nung,” he says quickly, anticipating the same question he’s constantly been asked by one of the two.
Neteyam looks physically taken aback, “that was not what I was going to ask,” he says slowly. “I know he went out with the hunters.”
“Right,” Rotxo says a little awkwardly. “Of course you knew that.” He waves his hand to play it off, before asking what the other was about to ask.
“It’s about your…” he trails off, his gaze flits around as if checking for someone before leaning in closer to Rotxo. “Your courting rituals,” he mutters.
Rotxo involuntary gasps, the prospect of the older Sully brother wanting to court someone piques his interest greatly. “You? Courting? I’m surprised you could even find someone to take an interest in with all the time you spend with Ao’nung.”
Neteyam glows with embarrassment as his gaze refuses to meet Rotxo’s, his shoulders curling a little on himself and slowly, Rotxo pieces together what had been blatantly obvious since that day.
“You’re courting Ao’nung?!”
“Shhhh!” Neteyam quickly covers his mouth with his hands, looking around frantically to make sure no one had heard him and once deeming the coast clear he slowly takes his hands away. “...Yes,” he admits quietly.
Rotxo huffs a laugh, grinning widely. “Wow, who would’ve thought.” He pats Neteyam’s shoulder with a resounding slap. “Happy for you, man.”
“Thanks,” Neteyam mutters, sheepishly. “So, you have courting rituals, yes? Since– well, we don’t have them in the forests but Lo’ak had mentioned something about making an armband or a necklace? I don’t really know the details since I don’t listen that much when he’s raving about Tsireya.”
“Yes! Right, yes. We have courting rituals. Usually, you should try and find a pearl, the shinier the better and create an armband or a necklace with it. Then, you are to create gifts for the parents and ask for their blessing and then you and your partner, after receiving those blessings, will face the Tsahik who will also give her blessing before you are to go and mate. Those last two steps will kind of be combined for you two though.”
Neteyam listens intently to his explanation and Rotxo can see as Neteyam flits through his options. The other biting his lower lip in thought before lightly nodding, his braids bouncing with the motion.
“Thanks, man,” Neteyam says. “Oh, and um… Could you not tell anyone about this? Like no one else at all, please?”
“This is why you asked me instead of Tsireya?”
“Yes.”
Rotxo laughs, “I got you, not a word.”
——————
A couple of days later, Ao’nung burst through the curtains of his marui. Heavy steps pacing on the woven floor, his large finned hand clutched around something being held close to his chest.
Rotxo watches his best friend for a second before deciding to speak. “Everything alright?”
Ao’nung’s pacing stops abruptly. Then, he quickly sits in front of Rotxo, eyes hardset on him.
“I’m in love with Neteyam.”
Rotxo’s mouth is slightly agape, moreso at hearing his best friend’s admittance than at the actual confession. “No way…” he says carefully.
Ao’nung sighs harshly, his head dropping down and resting on his hand. “Was I that obvious?”
“Not– at all… dude.” Ao’nung throws a glare at him and Rotxo’s back relaxes into a slouch. “Alright, you were a little obvious.”
The other groans.
“But! Only to me! Cause I know you better than the back of my hand, your tells were kind of obvious. Actually even more obvious than normal.”
“More than when I was interested in Lefnele?”
“Much more.”
Ao’nung groans again, leaning back to fall onto the woven floor with a muted ‘thump’ with his arms and legs spread wide, filling the space. “I was going to give him this.” One of his arms rises up to show Rotxo the necklace, similar looking to the ones Neteyam already wears. The shape is Omatikayan but the colourful beads and patterns are distinct of the Metkayinan braiding technique and a pretty pearl, right in the middle where it would rest nicely into the dip between his collarbones.
“It’s nice,” Rotxo compliments. It is nice, something that would fit nicely with Neteyam’s other Omatikayan accessories but also still reminiscent of their Metkayinan entanglement. Rotxo is a bit surprised his oaf of a best friend could come up with such a design in the first place, never one to be too interested in weaving and accessory making. Last he checked most of his accessories came from his mother and sister (and perhaps they most likely had helped him a bit).
“I was about to give it to him,” Ao’nung reiterates. “I was walking on the shore, and I saw him and his siblings playing together by the shallow waters and I froze,” he declares, dejectedly letting his arm fall back down. “He looked so… Pretty and good… Too good. Then I thought, there’s no way he would accept, not after everything.” Ao’nung tilts his head enough to meet Rotxo’s curious eyes, “he’s too good for me.” He lets his head fall back down, his bun cushioning the fall.
Rotxo makes his way next to his best friend’s head. “Yeah, he is too good for you.”
Ao’nung glares at him and Rotxo cracks a smile.
“Just kidding, you don’t have to look at me like that.”
Ao’nung rolls his eyes with the start of a smile at the tips of his lips.
“You should give it to him! I think he’ll really like it.”
“But what if he doesn’t accept it? He decides I’m not worthy and rejects my courting.”
“And what if he does accept it?”
Ao’nung scoffs, “you shouldn’t sound so sure.”
“But it’s still a possibility! Why even make it in the first place if you’re not going to give it to him? Not like you’re going to give someone else that, right? That necklace screams Neteyam, part of this courting is to take the risk. To show them that they’re worth the risk, the hard work and Neteyam out of all people would appreciate that.”
Ao’nung huffs, staring at the ceiling. Rotxo can tell he’s listening because his ears twitch but it’s half-hearted at most. Rotxo stands up and takes one of Ao’nung’s arms into two of his hands, pulling the other up and attempting to convince him to get up.
Ao’nung lazily lets himself get pulled up and then pushed out of the marui and across the walkways, all the way to the shore and he spots Neteyam. Sitting by the sand with Kiri, watching as Lo’ak gets chased around by Tuk, still splashing in the shallow waters.
Ao’nung inhales sharply.
Rotxo pushes him forward, “go!” he commands. “You will tell him how you feel, and then tell him you want to court him–”
“It will not go well!” Ao’nung hisses back.
“It will go very well, trust me!”
The two Metkayinas make it to where Kiri and Neteyam sit, the two Sullys’ laughter coming to an end and meeting their gazes.
“Neteyam,” Ao’nung says stiffly. Neteyam only makes a face that tells Ao’nung to continue. “I… I would like to talk to you about something.” He gestures towards the treeline opposite the ocean, “follow me?”
Rotxo holds back a chuckle from watching his best friend be so nervous.
Neteyam stands up and the two eldest brothers leave the group. Ao’nung stiffly leads them into the trees, while Neteyam languidly follows him.
Rotxo flops to sit beside Kiri, who shares his expression of amusement.
“They look good together,” she says. “Even if Ao’nung is an asshole.”
Rotxo laughs, “Yeah. I think he’ll mellow out after spending more time with Neteyam.”
“I can see that happening.”
——————
That evening, just before the end of eclipse. Rotxo sees the shadowy figure of his best friend and Neteyam on a flat rock platform by the beach, leaning into one another with tails intertwined behind them.
“Rotxo!” He spins around to find Kiri jogging towards him. She takes one of his hands and starts dragging him away, “c’mon, the glowing fish are back again!” She says excitedly, no doubt expecting him to explain their species to her.
He grins, hearing the loud echo of his best friend’s laughter reverberating through the beach and his palm covered in the warmth of someone who had filled his chest with the rhythmic thrumming against his ribcage.