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Another Tulkun was under attack, you’d heard the adults yelling, calling their mounts and gathering weapons. Mum and Dad were preparing for war, so obviously, they would be needing your skills.
“You’re too young for this.” Dad told you, taking the hunting spear from your small hands and waving off your demands to help with an exasperated sigh and an eye roll.
“You’re too small.” Mum parroted, patting your head on her way out of the hut, as she followed Dad towards where the rest of the hunters were gathering. Their skimwings made the water beneath the walkway throth with their sheer numbers.
“You’re too weak.” Was Dad’s parting argument, his patience thinning after he’d realised you had clambered onto the back of his skimwing when he’d been preoccupied. He’d swiftly turned back to the village, scooping you up and putting you back on the walkway with an expression that made you want to obey.
I’m too reckless, you realised, but only because there was no one around to tell you. It was only your ilu between your knees as the pair of you sped through the water towards the demon ship.
You weren’t allowed to go into battle because Dad said you had to become an adult first. But technically, you weren’t part of the battle, so you weren’t doing anything wrong. And you’d only put on a little bit of war paint, a smudge of white down the line of your nose so if by chance you were spotted, your clan would recognise you.
Hunched small against the neck of your ilu, you slipped unnoticed onto the large Sky Person ship. The deck was awash with chaos, Sky People a head smaller than you, were running around the decks, unhooking smaller boats from their perches and shouting to one another. Their demonic creations wearing the people’s skin patrolled the outer walkways, guns loaded.
The boat was taking on water, you heard them yell. That the hull had been punctured and a fire was spreading above deck.
Panic was thick in the air. It reminded you of when Lo’ak had gone missing for the night, the village dissolving into chaos, adults making silly mistakes. It had been easy to sneak away that night to fish in the shallows. Hopefully, you could do the same here.
Exploring the ship was thrilling in and of itself, there were plenty of small places to hide when Sky People in heavy gear thundered past. You had always been the best hider. Even growing as bold as to trip a few of them on their way past, darting down dark hallways when the Sky People swore and fired their weapons randomly.
By chance, one of them didn’t scoop up their weapon like the others tended to before dusting themselves off and moving on. There was a large crack in the face of his mask from where he’d hit his head on the way down, his eyes wide and panicked as he scrambled to his feet and bolted down the corridor.
Curiously, you slipped out of the hollow you’d been crouched in, long fingers finding the handle of the gun in the dark. Your glowing freckles lit up the sleek metal, reminding you of the weapon Mr Sully had been carrying when you’d passed him on the walkways an hour earlier. He’s held it by the butt and beneath the barrel. You mirrored what you’d observed, eyes furrowing as you realised the weapon was the perfect size for you.
Then you stilled, a familiar voice making your ears prick up.
Neteyam?
You spun in the direction of the yell, tail flicking in agitation as gun shots went off. Dad said you weren’t supposed to get into fights, but Neteyam had been kind to you. Your face hardened as you rose to your feet, gun clenched tightly in clumsy hands. Then you took off at a sprint, feet slapping loudly against the hard metal flooring, a world away from the soft sands of the village shores.
The Sullys had been kind to you.
Kiri and Tuk had invited you to explore the reef with them when they found you alone. Tuk challenged you to ilu races which you made sure to let her win - sometimes. Lo’ak had never been short of games and challenges to pass the time, goading you into climbing trees and the sides of the huts despite your heavier limbs and thick fingers too small for the tight holds. Whilst Neteyam acted like your older brother, despite already having three younger siblings to look after and protect. He came to your aid when the other kids grew too rough. Had carried you home that one time you’d tried to climb the palm trees like you saw Lo’ak do so effortlessly, only to slip and crack your ankle across a rock concealed beneath the sand.
You held those memories close now as you took the stairs two at a time, following the panic yells of who you recognised to be Lo’ak as well. The gunshots were growing closer.
You rounded a corner to find yourself on a platform overlooking the lower deck. The moonpool lay beneath you, three figures crouched two feet away, hiding from the gunfire behind a wall. You recognised Neteyam and Lo’ak but your eyes caught on the small Sky Person shielded between them.
Following the bullets, you noticed two not-quite-na’vi firing on the trio. Their aim was deadly accurate, body posture tight and practised. They looked like warriors.
Your hands shook on the Sky Person weapon, tail flicking in outrage as they fired on your friends. Someone could get seriously hurt. This wasn’t funny.
Below, Neteyam had wrestled a similar weapon off of Lo’ak, giving him and the Sky boy a shove towards the moonpool. He smiled tightly, flicking out the cartridge below the barrel of the weapon to check how many bullets he had before sliding it closed with a click, and handling it with practised ease.
Clumsily, you copied his movements, humming to yourself at the full cartridge before slamming it in and positioning your hands similar to Neteyam. You’d been unnoticed so far, a fact you relished in as you bent into a crouch, eyes hungry for information as you watched Neteyam poke the gun round the side of the steel wall and fire blindly on the enemy warriors with a firm press of his forefinger to the trigger.
Behind him, Lo’ak and the Sky boy made a break for the moonpool. The pair launched themselves up and over the yellow railing and threw themselves down into the safe embrace of the sea.
The enemy warriors had also retreated. Ducking behind large boxes and bullet punched helicopter husks, taking the time to reload.
You wanted to cheer, to jump up and down and unleash a joyous war cry as the last Sully jumped to safety.
But Neteyam did not run. He stood pressed against the steel wall, chest heaving and eyes shining. His hands shook on the gun as the cartridge ran out of bullets. The rhythmic bang of lead hitting metal abruptly ceased.
Sensing a lull in incoming fire, the enemy warriors sprang back up, their bullets hitting the steel wall with sprays of yellow and orange sparks. Neteyam flattened himself against the wall, gun useless at his side.
Trapped, you realised with a sinking stomach.
Your eyes flickered from the not-quite-na’vi, blissfully unaware of your presence, to the gun resting in your lap. It took moments for a plan to form. A stupid one.
To Eywa with what Dad said, you mentally cursed, knowing Mum would have your butt if she knew, as you straightened your posture, mirroring Neteyam as you swung the barrel of the gun up to rest on the lowest rail of the yellow fence and aimed downward. With more surety than you felt, your finger slamming down on the trigger. The gun roared to life, jumping in your hands as the first bullets exploded from the end, the pushback making you scramble to stay upright.
The enemy soldiers flinched at the unexpected shots. Guns whipping round as they scrambled to find the new shooter. You snarled as you struggled to aim, shattering helicopter windshields and raining bullets into walls and railings, toes digging into the floor hard enough to dent.
Neteyam looked up. Your eyes caught despite your sheltered position, your smile was all teeth as you yelled at him to run, that you had his back. He paled, not looking reassured by the exclamation like you’d hoped.
A bullet raced past your head, breaking your concentration. Instinctually, you darted to the side, ducking back into the sheltered darkness of the corridor you’d come from. The gunfire continued long after you’d hidden. The volume of the shots changing as either gunman paused to reload, but it never stopped entirely.
Your mind flashed to Neteyam, backed into a corner with freedom just a leap away. Once more your resolve hardened. You checked the cartridge, frowning at the two bullets left before slamming it shut. Better than nothing.
Squaring your shoulders, you crawled back towards the balcony, bullets shooting holes into the back wall. Sliding the gun along beside you, you dropped low onto your belly, ears flicking as you scraped the weapon along the textured walkway, swinging it round so you could aim.
Neteyam was gone.
You smiled, relieved. That was good. You contemplated leaving, but realised you wanted to use up all the bullets. It was fun to not be scolded for your poor skills for once.
It was like fishing, you told yourself as you hunched behind the weapon, one eye squeezed shut as you stared down the barrel. One of the enemy warriors had emerged completely from behind the box he’d been crouching behind, his gun still raised but his body vulnerable. You wanted to hit him first, make his shiny, bald head weep with red tears.
Tail flicking you readjusted your clammy grip on the gun before sliding your finger into position above the trigger. The not-quite-na’vi remained oblivious, yelling orders to the other one as his head continued to turn, constantly taking in his surroundings. Constantly aware, but not aware enough.
The gun recoiled heavily into your chest as you pulled the trigger, the resounding bang making your ears flatten. Far below, a deep, pained shout rang out, you hoped it hurt.
Hands grabbed your ankles, unceremoniously yanking you back down the hallway, to which you screamed. Twisting in place, you hauled the gun with you as you rolled onto your back in your attacker’s grip, then you froze.
Your finger hovered over the trigger as Neteyam scowled down at you, eyes burning in the dull light. Feeling scolded before he’d even spoken, your ears flattened to your skull as you lowered the gun. Out of impulse you sat upright to hide it behind you.
<“What are you doing here?”> Neteyam hissed, and you flinched.
A retort was sharp on your tongue, tail thrashing with the building rage and betrayal as you levelled him with a look. How rude. After you’d done such a good job of helping him too.
<“You were supposed to be gone.”> You replied lamely and Neteyam snarled, more to himself than in an act of aggression.
<“Come on.”> He ordered sternly, grabbing your bicep before you could obey and hauling you to your feet. He was quick to take the gun off you, expression thunderous enough to keep you from protesting. You settled for glaring back, unhappy at being treated like a kid.
<“This way.”> His tone was sharp, clipped as he grabbed your wrist and began dragging you back the way you’d come, ears swivelling this way and that in an attempt to listen for enemies. You wrestled your arm free. He scowled and reached for you again, you darted away. <“This is not a game.”> He warned. You stuck your tongue out.
Yanking your knife from its sheath above your tail, you padded on ahead, posture tense as you kept low. Neteyam sighed heavily before falling into step beside you, gun raised as he seemed to hide behind it. His presence was comforting, despite you being mad at him.
Luckily for the Sky People, your descent back to the lower level was uneventful. Most of them had already evacuated, judging by the emptiness of the landing dock, the waves lapping at the deserted ramp with several blow up boats floating away towards the horizon. Freedom was so close. At this rate, you might even be able to make it home before your parents.
>_<
The Metkayina child was too small to be here. Barely two years older than Tuk, Neteyam just about had a heart attack when he looked up and found them firing on the enemy. There was a fire in their eyes, a childish glee on their face as they told him to go. The amateur way in which they handled the gun made his heart pound and stop interchangeably. One wrong step and they’d lose a limb.
Every muscle had frozen. One brother had gotten away, but there was still someone else to save. Someone who he couldn’t afford to let get hurt otherwise Dad would have his head and the village would be out to get him.
It took the soldiers firing back to finally get him to move. He’d seen a staircase to the upper levels on the way in with Lo’ak, he raced for them now, barely having enough mind to check for enemy fire in his haste.
When he slammed through the heavy metal door on the balcony, he stilled at the child lying on their stomach, his mind immediately jumping to the worst case scenario. This far away, he couldn’t see blood, but it hung thick in the air, intermingled with the stench of smoke and sea salt in a toxic odour. With the amount of bodies, it wasn’t a shock, but it made Neteyam want to cry.
Then to his relief, the kid had shifted closer to the opening overlooking the lower deck, feet kicking in glee as they aimed with the weapon. Neteyam recognised his style of shooting, saw it in the squaring of the kid’s shoulders and the placing of their hands along the body of the gun.
Before he knew it, there was a shot fired and someone screamed far below. A kid shouldn’t have to see what the power of a bullet could do, so he intervened. Darting forward to haul the child away from the opening and danger. He felt almost proud when they instinctively turned on him, gun cocked.
And then they smiled guilty. Neteyam’s eyes caught on the sloppy white war paint running jaggedly down their nose, and he was abruptly reminded that they hadn’t grown up like him. They didn’t have a military father who’d taught them to handle a gun around the time he was learning to master his first bow. Their grandmother hadn’t insisted they learn how to survive bullet wounds. Their mother hadn’t hammered into their skull every prayer to Eywa she knew in the hopes the Great Mother would reward you for your loyalty.
This was a child. Born on the reef, and barely learning how to use their dagger to gut fish.
<”What are you doing here?”> He asked, but it came out as a bark. As a command. Internally, he winced at how much like his Dad he sounded, even as his expression turned stony. The fear of someone so young and inexperienced in a place like this made his hands shake. Especially when he was their only line of defence against people who had trained their whole lives to kill na’vi.
The child tried to hide the gun from him, giving some lame excuse about assuming he’d already left. He almost laughed. As if he would leave them here for the blue Colonel to find and kill.
His fear made his remarks sharp as he hauled them to their feet, intent on finally getting off this cursed ship and back into the safe embrace of his family.
Fear made them similarly angry, it seemed, as they ripped themselves away from him, looking like Lo’ak as their chin lifted in defiance. Neteyam sighed, knowing that a wrong move would get them both killed or the child tearing off to do their own thing.
Somehow, he guided the pair back to the lower deck. They stuck close, dagger raised. It would do little in a gunfight, but Neteyam appreciated their spirit.
Coming across Kiri and Tuk tied up to a railing beside a smaller moonpool made his blood freeze as he realised he had more kids to save. Where were the adults? Dad hadn’t been far behind him when he’d boarded the demon ship to free everyone from the outer railing.
The kid tucked in close beside him, eyes narrowed as the pair hid behind an overturned submarine. Quaritch and his team were nowhere to be seen. Nor could Neteyam pick up on the heavy footfalls of their booted feet. He sent a swift prayer to Eywa as he steeled his nerves. The water would provide a swift exit, and the ropes an annoying complication. Not to mention, the open space would make it easy for-
Neteyam lurched as the warmth at his side evaporated, his ears pinned as he turned with a snarl, expecting the child to have been snatched up by an avatar whilst he’d been distracted. He blinked at the empty space behind him. No avatar. And no child.
Then he panicked.
Turning back to his sisters, his heart just about gave out as he saw Y/n charging towards them, their footsteps echoing in the large, empty space, knife held comically above their head like a trophy. Consequences be damned, Neteyam tore himself out of his hiding space and pursued them in a sprint, heart hammering as he waited for gunfire at a moment’s notice.
Nothing came. There was no outraged yell from Quaritch. Nor did a shower of bullets tear through his shoulder and side.
Y/n was already sawing clumsily at Tuk’s binds when Neteyam caught up, the gun swinging from its strap at his waist.
<“Took your time.”> Kiri commented, pointedly looking at her bound wrists.
Neteyam sighed, pulling his knife from its sheath to begin hacking. <“Sorry, we were a little busy trying not to get shot.”>
Y/n let out a victorious cry as Tuk’s bindings came free, the small girl quick to hug the older kid’s waist in her overwhelming thanks. Patting her shoulder, Y/n glanced at Neteyam and Kiri whose bindings were almost done, before helping Tuk through the barrier so she stood above the lapping waves.
Kiri’s bindings snapped with a final jerk of Neteyam’s blade. Both kids were quick to duck under the barrier, the telltale sound of voices and footsteps making their actions swift.
Kiri stooped to scoop up Tuk, holding the girl close to her chest before throwing herself into the moonpool and the sea below. Neteyam followed suit, snatching up Y/n who held onto him obediently and launching the pair of them down and away.
Lo’ak and Spider were waiting for them. The first offered loud complaints about them taking too long whilst Kiri shushed him with stern curses. Spider grinned at the familiar banter, offering a hand to Kiri to help her up onto the back of the ilu.
Neteyam relaxed for the first time in hours, the kid in his arms easily wiggling out of his lax grip. He let Y/n go. Here beneath the hull of the sinking ship, there were no enemies. Just the lapping waves and his family struggling to fit onto one ilu.
He laughed as Spider was unceremoniously pushed off by Lo’ak so he could pull Tuk up in his place. The human came up yelling, his mask fogging up in his outrage as he attempted to tread water and shove Lo’ak back. Lo’ak didn’t even pretend that Spider was strong enough to move him, his place at the head of the ilu cemented for the long ride back.
The water to Neteyam’s right swelled and broke as a second ilu joined the group, Y/n bonded to the beast. It was a younger steed, still strong enough to take the smaller kids whilst the rest of them clung to Lo’ak’s mount.
<“Are you still mad?”>
Neteyam stilled at the soft spoken question, pausing in his organisation of the seating arrangement. He turned to the stone-faced child, seeing himself in their lowered gaze and hunched shoulders, lips pulling into a neutral line to save face but not anger him.
<“That’s just his face. Don’t take it personally.”> Lo’ak jumped in before Neteyam could find his words. The older boy growled, splashing his younger brother with a wave of water for his troubles.
At least the kid was smiling again, the tension broken by the light banter. <“I’m not mad.”> Neteyam assured them, to which they nodded but looked unconvinced. <“I was just scared. Really scared.”>
<”But you don’t get scared.”>
It was such an innocent statement it made Neteyam’s heart swell.
<“Not easily.”> He admitted, the others had gone back to sorting themselves out. Lo’ak and Kiri made room for him on their mount, whilst Spider and Tuk swam over to climb onto the back of Y/n’s ilu. <”But I was scared when I realised you were still on the ship.”>
<“I was fine.”> They jumped in, a mischievous grin making his shoulders loosen. <“I was shooting just like you.”>
<”I noticed.”> He agreed easily. <”You even hit one of them.”>
Behind him, Lo’ak let fly an exaggerated sigh, making Tuk burst into giggles. <“Just great, now we’re gonna have to reteach them so they can actually shoot straight.”>
<”My aim is fine.”>
<“You bend your spine too far to the left. You look like you’re trying to snap your back in half.”>
Lo’ak finished with a dramatic wave of his hand. <“Anyway, don’t worry Y/n. I’ll teach you the proper way to shoot.”>
<”Okay!”> The kid exclaimed enthusiastically.
<“Lo’ak.”> Kiri jumped in, <“we don’t need more trigger-happy chaos children running around. You are enough.”>
<”Do you want to swim home, Kiri, because at this rate you will be?”> She shrugged, before offering her hand to Neteyam to pull him up behind her. He went easily, climbing onto the ilu’s back with practised ease.
Lo’ak spared the second ilu, and its passengers, a last check before guiding his mount into a smooth glide out of the shadow of the demon ship. Y/n followed close behind, Tuk holding tight to their waist and Spider holding onto her as he leaned back to gaze at the sinking ship in all its entirety.
On the horizon, an ikran circled above a rocky outcrop that breached the waves not too far ahead. Standing upon the rocks was a na’vi, tall and proud with a gun strapped to his back. Neteyam smiled as he recognised the tense postures of his parents. His mother’s ikran banking hard to land on the rocks behind Dad.
The ilu were slow moving in the water thanks to the extra weight, but made good time in reaching the rocks before the eclipse had fully set in. The kids slid off the ilu with shouts of joy, riding the waves to see who could get to their parents first. Y/n and Spider held back, watching the heartwarming scene from the safety of the water, as the Sully kids scrambled up onto the rocks and engaged in a tight group hug.
Jake and Neytiri were quick to greet them, gathering up their kids and holding them tightly to their chests. There were tears, alongside happy praises to Eywa for her guidance.
Although privately, Neteyam thought his parents should really be thanking the chaotic, gun wielding kid that had stepped in to help them, despite everything.
With that thought in mind, Neteyam pulled away from the hug, Dad watching his movements as he gestured to the two still on the ilu, assuming they’d want to join in on the hug.
Spider came more easily, wearily checking Mum’s reaction as he swam inland to the open arms of the kids and a relieved sigh from Dad.
Y/n waved from their ilu, gaze uncertain. They appeared twitchy now that the adrenaline had worn off, eyes flickering from the Sully’s to the open waves and the burning Sky Person technology littering the sea.
<“What’s wrong kid?”> Dad asked, pulling away from the family and carefully climbing down the rock face. He slipped into the water with a newfound familiarity, greeting the child’s ilu with a calming hand to its neck as his ears pricked. Y/n replied in a hushed whisper, tail curling tight to their leg. Dad nodded along, expression very serious despite the quirk of his lips.
Then he was gathering the kid up in his arms and bringing them back to shore. <“Y/n has asked we don’t tell their parents what they’ve been up to.”> He informed the family as Y/n sank out of sight into his chest, tail flicking in discontent at being exposed. Dad soothed them with a pat on the back and a grin before mouthing, ‘what happened?’
<”Neteyam taught them to shoot.”> Lo’ak jumped in, and Mother turned on Neteyam, ears pricked up high as her eyes shot wide, her expression appalled.
Neteyam scrambled to defend himself, <”I didn’t know they were watching me!”>
Mother was not convinced. <“You know the younger ones look up to you. Of course they were going to mirror.”>
<”Don’t be mad at him.”> Y/n jumped in, coming to Neteyam’s defence like none of his siblings have before. <”I just wanted to make the bad men scared. They were trying to hurt him.”>
Dad’s expression grew grim as he squeezed the child closer to him, trying to convey the torrent of warring emotions in his expression through touch alone. Mum’s hand had gone to her mouth, clutching at her jaw as her eyes misted. Unspoken horrors played behind her eyes.
<”We’re not mad.”> Dad tried to reassure the kid as Mum moved closer to Neteyam, dragging him closer to her with a firmness that told him she would hear no complaining. Neteyam went easily, soothed by the warm embrace of his Mother.
<”You’re just scared.”> Y/n concluded, and Lo’ak laughed.
<”It’s kind of terrifying how quickly you pick things up.”>
The remaining Sully kids laughed, the adrenaline dying now that they were finally reunited. The horrors of the ship left behind as it sank lower and lower in the water. Quaritch out of sight and the immediate threat he posed vanished with the last rays of the sun behind the moon.