Chapter Text
When you had subtly joined Jake’s cause a few months ago now, you had expected to find your peace after the war.
.
You were surprised, to say the least, when he told you late one night he’d be able to get you in with the Omaticaya People, into Hometree. You hadn’t expected to fall so in love with the Na’vi ways, and you hadn’t expected to feel more and more like an alien when you were in your human body – your actual body, you had to remind yourself. You were nervous with pleasant anticipation at the news
.
He told you of their hesitance to accept you, and it was due to the fact your body – avatar body – was that of a reef person. You wouldn’t be useful to them. He had convinced them otherwise. You would always be grateful for that.
You weren’t originally meant to have an Avatar at all, but when a Metkayina body washed up at the nearest beach, the RDA knew they couldn’t pass up the opportunity to learn and compare a Reef person to a Forest person. Then, they just needed someone to fuse the DNA with.
It hadn’t even been a question for you. You had been envious of the Avatar drivers since the day you arrived. Whenever they spoke of it, you were enraptured, enchanted by the idea. So of course, without hesitation, you said you’d do it. You had felt a pull, a longing in your heart ever since you first met your new body. She was you. (Just a bit more blue. And a few feet taller).
You proved yourself. Through your iknimaya, somehow, you proved yourself. The People tolerated you. Mo’at accepted you with open arms, despite the poor history with the Sky People. She was the one who told you your heart was pure and strong, like that of a true Na’vi. She told you your heart always knew you were meant to find your way here, to Pandora. She told you that you belonged.
Because of your efforts in the war, you were similarly transferred to stay in your Avatar body forever alongside Jake, in the warm embrace of the Tree of Souls. Life was good. You were there when they herded the Sky People back to their dying planet. You became a close, dear friend to Neytiri. You were there when she fell pregnant, and you were happy.
But your heart was feeling a pull that kept growing stronger, unsettling and heavy. Of course, you were overjoyed for Jake and Neytiri, but you felt… sidelined. There was no one for you here. You could feel it. You could see it, too, when you’d catch people watching with a disdain that suggested they expected you to flip and betray them any minute. Despite the acceptance of your presence, it didn’t mean you had friends. You were a ghost.
Sleep, Gather, Weave, Repeat.
The pull was growing stronger.
Sleep, Gather, Weave, Repeat.
You couldn’t tell what your heart truly wanted. You prayed to Eywa for answers.
Sleep, Gather, Weave, Repeat.
You were growing antsy. Mo’at noticed. Neytiri noticed. The People noticed.
In your body, you knew deep down you’d never find a proper place here, you’d never fit in. You already had demon blood. And you were making life harder for yourself by being here.
Your tail was thick, less than good for balance. Your hands, wider, making gripping stupidly harder. Even your colour, a seafoam blue compared to their inky night, was useless in blending with the shadows of the towering trees. You were a liability. Every step into the vast jungle you were meant to call home was a risk.
You couldn’t live in caution forever.
.
You were sat in your mauri. It was rather bare and empty, in an unfulfilling way, and it was slightly further from all the others, not by much, but a noticeable distance you suspected they preferred you kept. You were growing frustrated, tying and retying a knot you had learnt on your first day at Hometree. It came undone again.
“Gah!” You yelled, throwing your hands up in irritation. You tilted your head back, breathing deeply to calm your stormy mind. You shouldn’t be messing up something so simple, something you’d known since first arriving here. Your ears twitched back against your skull, alerting you to the soft steps of someone approaching, entering your mauri. You knew who it would be. Out of your peripherals, you watched as she sat next to you, crossing her legs, and taking the simple top from you that you were making yourself. She tied it off with practised ease. You huffed.
You two sat in silence for a minute before she spoke up.
“You are restless.” She stated. Neytiri was always more direct. Especially towards you. She knew you preferred the truth.
“Oh, what makes you think that?” You rolled your eyes, your words laced with sarcasm you knew she’d hate.
She whacked your knee lightly, “Do not pretend, skawng. I see it. Mother sees it. Eywa, even Jake sees it and you know how he is oblivious.”
That earnt a short breath of laughter from you.
She continued, “You are unhappy here.” It wasn’t a question, but she whispered it like she wished the answer was different.
You looked up at her, your green eyes meeting her amber ones. You directed your gaze away, unable to bear the solemn tenderness that graced her beautiful features. It was all the response she needed. She placed a gentle hand on your elbow, leaning closer.
“Then, you can leave. We would not hold it against you.” You knew she was referring to herself and Mo’at. The People, well, you suspected they’d actually be quite glad.
You hadn’t expected that. You regarded her once more, taking in the now noticeable swell of her abdomen, the way one of her hands was always rested protectively there, the sincerity in her eyes.
She noticed, of course, ever so observant.
“I want you to stay, and to celebrate all milestones with you by my side. But, you are fading. You are a shell of who you could be.”
“It is clear that what is best for you, it to follow your instincts. Find what Eywa has planned for you. Even if it means leaving.” She finished.
You let out a shaky breath, whispering, “I’m scared, Neytiri.” She grabbed both your hands in hers, comfortingly.
“What if I find I have no plan for me? What if I truly never belong anywhere?”
She shook her head ferociously, “No. Eywa wouldn’t have brought you here if she had no reason to. You will always belong. Pandora is your home.”