The Lie Of Providence - Chapter 5 - Paths

The Lie of Providence - Chapter 5 - Paths

word count: 2698

Pairing: Recom Miles Quaritch x Female! Sully! Na'vi Reader Tags/Warnings: family bonding

“blue text” is spoken Na'vi. ‘Italics’ are thoughts.

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When you and father return to the village, you find Mo’at already awake and preparing for her duties of the day.

“Mo’at, I must speak with you urgently.” Jake addresses her almost immediately.

“Good morning to you too ma Jake, ma [Y/N].” She chides him playfully, unawares of how serious he is. You greet her softly.

“Good morning Grandmother…” Her focus is immediately on you. She studies your face; that downcast gaze, the faint streaks left by tears.

“Come.” She commands and you two follow her into an unoccupied healer tent. She gestures you two to sit and she secures the entrance closed.

“Speak of your troubles.”

Once again you go through the motions of your nightmare. Again your tongue is held steadfast against mentions of the Human. You do not cry this time, far too drained now. When you are finished speaking you exhale deeply. Grandmother is quiet as she sits in front of you, studying you. Your father nervously shifts his gaze from you to her and back. He opens his mouth to speak but she swiftly lifts a hand to silence him, gaze never faltering from you.

Without a word she rises from her spot and swiftly leaves the tent. You look to your father confused, but he merely shrugs; equally baffled. Quickly she returns though, bringing with her a bowls, tools, and a satchel no doubt filled with various powders and plants.

She works without uttering a single word. She alights the small fire pit in the center of the tent space. You welcome the gentle heat as it washes away the morning chill. Your father moves to sit closer to you, putting a comforting arm around your shoulder as the two of you watch Mo’at work.

You watch with keen interest as she grinds dried plants into fine powders, quietly chanting as she does. She pulls the bone from her necklace and holds out her free hand expectantly to you. You understand immediately and offer a hand. She pricks a finger, putting a drop of your blood into her concoction. She grabs a handful of the powder and throws it upon the fire.

The flames roar to life suddenly, a dazzling dance of reds and purples awash the tent. You look at your arms and marvel as the colours are reflected perfectly in your pale tones. You wonder if other colours would dance so wonderfully on your skin too. Mo’at’s prayers are louder now as she gestures this way and that, a dance known only to her as Tsahik. Suddenly the fire burns dark red, bolder than fire should be, and immediately dies without warning. Mo’at gasps and inhales deeply.

She sits back on her haunches, hands folded in her lap.

“The Great Mother has spoken. She speaks of fire and brimstone. Of great shadows darkening the sky. The seas painted red with spilt blood. Of villages burning, our people dying. Of betrayal, vengeance, wrath…”

She looks up from the dead flames to meet your eyes.

“She speaks of you. A warning. Many paths lay before you. She did not reveal them to me. Only that you must choose the right one.”

You gulp. All of that sounded more ominous than helpful. In fact, the right path? What does that even mean? How are you supposed to know? What if you choose wrong? What then? Will you be the reason people die and villages burn?? Your suddenly filled with anxiety, such thoughts becoming too taxing for a 12-year-old girl.

“Hey Mo’at that’s enough! You’re scaring her!” Your father yells when he notices your laboured breath. There words become heated but you do not hear. Static fills your ears as you stare at your open palms.

You’re suddenly filled with a desire to see the Human. That cold gruff man. He’s been a constant in your life for many years now. Oh, you left him on that cliff. You hope he finds his way back to the waking world or where ever he comes from.

And before any of you realise it, you unwillingly fall into the embrace of darkness.

---

Miles Quaritch considers himself a sensible sort. Tough on his men, tougher on his opponents. Values loyalty above all else. Does not question authority, and does himself expect not to be questioned. That first day on Pandora, she made one thing very clear; this is not your home, and you do not make the rules here.

He wears his scars proudly, a reminder of what’s out there. Not just the animals and plants, but those savages too. Anything with a pulse is trying to kill you. Anything without a pulse can kill you too. But they have a job to do. Orders are orders and one way or another, they are going to get to that damn deposit of unobtainium.

The Avatar Program. What a fucking joke. Waste of time as far as he is concerned. Would be easier just to smoke out all the natives by force and blow the damn tree up. Minimal casualties of course, but such things are unavoidable. He suddenly wonders if you live in that big tree.

Urgh. He hates that he suddenly thought of you. Some native kid inhabiting a dream. He doesn’t like the lucid dreams. They feel far too real for his liking. He’d really like Jake to hurry the fuck up so he can be done with this planet and be on the next shuttle outta here. He can’t help his mind however, recalling the first time he had seen you. Jesus Christ you scared the shit outta him, looking like a damn ghost what with that pale skin and all. Turns out you were just a bratty kid who followed him everytime he dreamt these past few months.

He wonders then though, if his mind was playing tricks on him last time he dreamt of you. You looked, almost bigger? He’s not sure anymore. The low gravity of this planet must be fucking with his head and he can’t stand it. He sighs as he rubs a hand down his face. He’d love nothing more than to leave right now. Paz looks ready to pop anytime soon and he’d prefer if the boy was born on his real home planet, not this God forsaken moon. This was no place to raise a son.

Although he and Paz weren’t in a relationship per say, he knows he needs to do right by her and their son. So begrudgingly here he stays, following through with orders to the best of his ability, to ensure a future for his son, and to ensure he has a home to go back to once this is all over.

---

 Months pass and yet still you do not return to the shared dream. For this you are grateful as you have yet to experience another nightmare. You would be saddened to have not seen your human companion were this not the norm though; to go so long without another shared dream.

It might even take another year before he makes an appearance. But that is a worry for future you. Present day you has thought long and hard about Eywa’s less than straight forward answers. But as luck would have it, you have come up with a sort of plan.

As you recall, Eywa spoke of many paths to be laid before you, choosing the right one a crucial step toward the future. You wondered then, if perhaps this was hence tied to your future place in the clan; something not yet set in stone either.

Being the first born of Olo'eyktan, you had many choices in your future role to the clan, Leader of course being one of them. Alternatively, you could tutelage under Grandmother to become future Tsahik. This was once your mother’s destiny, but the war with the Sky People passed lead her instead down the path of the Warrior, to which she has since thrived. She is a remarkable huntress too, and you would be honoured to learn from her; another path you could choose.

There were also the Gatherers, experts in cultivating the land and foraging, making sure to take only what is needed to never upset the great balance. You could study craftmanship – becoming an expert in textiles, or one day having the privilege of using the Mother Loom. You could become a Clan Singer, studying under Ninat and learning the songs to bring joy around the cooking fires, or the prayers that are sung to honour the dead.

With so many ways you could fit into the clan, your genius idea was then to do it all.

Oh yes. You were going to study everything. Every last job afforded to you, you would give everything that you are and then some. Surely there could be no wrong path if you took EVERY path!

With this in mind you approach your parents and grandparent with the idea. Mo’at is apprehensive, becoming Tsakarem was a life long commitment. But as it would stand she doesn’t currently have anyone under her tutelage, so she relents. She places a condition though; were she to see a sign from Eywa regarding your future as Tsahik, she would end the training were it not to please the Great Mother. You agree wholeheartedly.

And so begins your training under dearest Grandmother.

And by the Great Mother is it exhausting. But equally as exhilarating. There is a thought in the back of your mind too, that if you can become one who interprets the Will of Eywa, there is the chance that your own future, and the dreams that may yet lie within, could become clearer to you. You could gain a better understanding of it all. Maybe.

Every morning then, you awaken before majority of the clan, and listen dutifully as Mo’at explains everything she does, and the reasons therein. She speaks of Eywa’s influence in the world around you, look for signs, the things others may not yet see. How she interprets these things. The rites that a Tsahik must perform for her people, the plants you use, the painting patterns, which paints to use and the colours and their meanings. There is even order in the burning powders for rituals and rites alike. It is a lot to take in. But you drink it up as though you are starved.

And when the sun approaches its zenith, you spend your time with Mother, she teaches you the ways of hunting. How to track the great beasts of Pandora, how to stealth through the forest but leave no trace behind. She begins teaching you to use a bow, and you and her are surprised to find you are remarkably proficient. She praises you greatly, and the two of you laugh over stories of how much she struggled to teach your father the very same weapon.

When the sun first kisses the horizon, you then spend time with Ninat, learning how to control your voice. Breathing exercise. How to hold notes and expanding your range. She tells you that you have a good voice, and will no doubt sing beautifully with time; if your own mother’s voice is anything to go by. With that in mind, you practice your singing in the evenings when Neytiri sings her personal songcord.

Your days are never the same though. Though each morning will always be spent with Tsahik, some afternoons you spend with father, he appoints himself to teach you the way of the Warrior. How to fight. And more importantly, how to wield a knife. Though he’s not ready to give you a proper blade yet, you are given a blunt wooden carving of one. Technique is of the most importance. The stances and body movements he teaches you, are Human techniques.

He appoints Tarsem, a young but extremely wise Warrior to teach you the native style of the clan. He hopes a broaden fighting style with multiple perspectives will keep you that much safer in the future.

Other evenings are spent with some of the Gatherers as they prepare food for the clan with the Hunters. You learn how to carve meat from bone, which parts of animals are for eating, the rest for healing or craftsmanship. There are some days where you join them out the forest, learning which plants are safe and which to avoid wholeheartedly. Which herbs mix well together, and which when combined make absolute and utter chaos.

The only downside to this sudden busy schedule, is you find yourself with far less time than before to spend with your siblings. It weighs heavy on your heart; especially when you have to refuse their offers to play when you have lessons.

You do the best you can to make time here and there. You are free though, well after the evening meal, when the sky is dark and full of stars. You sit with them and tell them stories of your day, the struggles of your training, the joys of doing things right. There is a big smile that spreads upon your face, ear to ear, as you regale them, almost nary stopping to breathe.

Then there are your days of Rest. One must allow oneself to replenish the energy that is borrowed from Eywa. These are the days you visit Hells Gate to spend time with Uncle Norm and Max catching up on your goings on. Spider is of course there too, eating up everything you see, wishing he too could be a part of your training.  By the Great Mother if you somehow become Clan Leader you will make sure he becomes an official member, and anyone who disagrees will answer to you.

---

2 Years pass. You are 15 now, almost a young adult. Your training still continues, though only to hone your skills. One development however, is that at some point you ceased your training as future Tsahik. Instead, Mo’at has appointed Kiri to be her new Tsakarem. And at 11 years old Kiri is more than excited. Any chance she can commune with the Great Mother she takes it. It means she get so communicate with her Birth Mother, Grace; a surprising thing to learn.

Your parents had waited until the older children, everyone except Tuk, were old enough to understand the story. How they found Grace’s avatar body pregnant without explanation, in its stasis pod. And how Kiri came into the world a little miracle, one they graciously took into their family to raise as their own. Now Kiri sometimes visits Hells Gate with Lo’ak in tow, the two of them growing closer to Spider as the years passed. But also it gives her a chance to see her other Mother, to watch videos of her talking about her love for Eywa and this world.

---

Hold your breath. Steady aim. Do not pull too tightly. Exhale on release. No sudden movements. Aim carefully and—the yerik just so happens to look up and immediately spots you, instantly scurrying off before you can let loose an arrow.

You cuss, growly in frustration of it all. This is not the first time something like this has happened. You are sure of it now. Being this pale against the backdrop of the forest’s deep greens and blues, you must stand out something fierce.

“Calm, [Y/N]. These things happen.” Your mother says and puts a comforting hand upon your shoulder.

“Sorry. I know. It’s just—incredibly frustrating.”

“What is, my sweet atokirina?”

You gesture vaguely up and down your whole body.

“This. This is. It makes me stand out. I can’t hunt like this Mama. They see me so fast…”

“Then we must try other techniques. From higher in the trees, or—”

“It’s not just the animals Mother…”

The words slip out before you even think. Damn. This wasn’t something you wanted to necessarily talk about. At least not yet. It was awkward. It was uncomfortable. And most of all, heart breaking. Neytiri scowls, not liking the implication behind those words.

“What do you mean, [Y/N]?”

You sigh deeply. ‘Eywa give me strength’. And so you decide to tell your mother, about your first heartbreak.

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A/N: Once again I'd like to give thanks to everyone that has liked and or reblogged this story. It really means a lot and is great motivation to keep going! I know you all must be frothing for the promised quaritch x reader content and I thank you for your patience. I promise it is coming! I just really wanted to get some world building in there; really delve into you as the reader and where you come from. I am eager to hear your thoughts. Let me know how ya'll feel about pacing and whatever else have you!

Also once again I apologies for any grammatical errors.

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Tag List: @mynameisbaby9 @nissilou @d4rno @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @perseny

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The Lie of Providence - Chapter 3 - Red

word count: 2311

Pairing: Recom Miles Quaritch x Female! Sully! Na'vi Reader Tags/Warnings: Some might find the slight body horror imagery, though mild, in the final part disturbing. A/N: I'm starting a tag list if people are interested, please let me know :) It will be at the bottom of each chapter. Apologies for any grammatical mistakes - no beta we die like Tsu'tey QwQ

"blue text" is spoken Na'vi 'Italics' are thoughts.

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Night is fast approaching. Your gaze is turned upward; admiring the delicate strokes of purples and oranges painted upon the expanse. You gather your little brood of siblings and escort them back home without too much fussing on their end.

You wish you could invite Spider to come eat with you, but alas he is bound by the laws of his People and cannot be without his mask whilst outside. You all hug him goodbye and he runs off with a wave of his hand back to Hell’s Gate.

You arrive just in time for the evening meal; the clan gathering around the Tree of Souls to eat together. It doesn’t take you long to find your parents and grandmother with food already set out for all the children, you included.

You all greet each other warmly as you all gather around and near each other to eat. You go over hugging your father and grandmother. You give your mother a side hug as she’s holding little Tuk to her breast on the other side. She kisses your temple and gives you an affectionate stroke to your golden tresses as you sit beside her; Kiri and Lo’ak immediately make themselves comfortable next to you. Neteyam squeezes himself between father and grandmother.

The evening passes uneventfully, filled with idle conversation and gentle laughter woven through the breeze. When you all eventually return home, the family cuddles together to listen as mother and father retell the story of how they met.

Mother leans back with Tuk tucked into her left. Father presses himself into her right, his head affectionately nuzzled into her neck. You lay yourself into his right side and he wraps an arm around you tightly. Lo’ak and Kiri have laid themselves across your legs and lay upon father’s chest. Neteyam plops himself in the space between mother’s legs, his head resting on her stomach. Father puts his left arm around her waist to pull her just that little bit closer.  To you, there is no safer place to be than in the warm embrace of your family. Sleep takes you faster than you expected.

---

Your eyes slowly flutter open. You find yourself standing somewhere indiscernible in the forest. Eywa's song fills your ears as they flick to and fro. You hear her voice through the animal calls in the distance, through the breeze as it rustles the plants all around you. You feel content and safe and are certain the Great Mother is watching over you in this dream.

You start off in a random direction, not caring where you are going, but it feels right. Everything around you unfamiliar, but at the same time you’re filled with a sense that you’ve been here before. As you admire your surroundings, you come upon something unexpected.

It’s your Dream Human, cursing to himself as he pushes through foliage, uncaring of the way he disturbs the life around him.

“Fucking hate this God damn FOREST and this God damn HEAT and ESPECIALLY—” there is a pause in his tirade when your eyes meet.

 “YOU.”

The parallels of him finishing his sentence and the deceleration of your presence are not lost to you.

“Gettin’ real sick and tired of sick ya face kid. What the hell’dya want? Get the hell outta my dreams!”

Did you hear him right? His dreams? These were YOUR dreams.

“These are my dreams Human. It is you who invades.”  Your tail flicks with slight annoyance. He frowns slightly but shakes his head. “Whatever. I’m not here to argue with some savage kid. Gotta get the hell outta here so I can wake up and be done with this shit.” You give him a puzzled look. He talks as though he is stuck in this dream.

“Speak plainly Human. You talk as if you are stuck in this dream.”

His eyes slightly widen at something unspoken, but he schools his expression back to a scowl so fast it was, almost, imperceivable. “Feels like I’ve been stuck in Hell’s cesspool for days now.”

You’re not sure on two of those words, but with the venom with which they are spoken, you are sure it was an insult to Eywa and her gifts.

“I will not stand here while you insult the Great Mother. This dream is over. I am leaving.” You close your eyes and try to will yourself to awaken, your face slowly scrunching as you concentrate.

He scoffs in amusement.

“You look constipated.”

You open your eyes and fix him with an annoyed growl, crossing your arms. It seems Eywa prefers that you stay for the time being, much to your dismay.

“Looks like you're stuck here too kid.”

An exasperated sigh leaves you.

There is a beat of silence as you to stare at each other, almost challenging one another.

Quaritch contemplates on that for a moment. He could threaten you, he is in fact quite over being here. And violence seems to be the only language you Hostiles seem to speak in common. Then again, you are, as far as he can tell, a child. You may not respond accordingly. And if run away crying then that's just another headache he doesn't want.

“Alright kid, got any bright ideas on how we get outta this place? Where the Hell even are we?”

"And why would I help you? As a matter of fact, why should I help you?"

"Well, you being stuck here too has presented an opportunity both timely and convenient."

"Go on..."

"You help me get the hell outta here, and I'll be outta your hair and outta this damn forest. An outcome your precious little Ayewah would agree with I am sure." You do your best to ignore the flagrant disrespect with which he speaks the Great Mother's name.

"Fine. But only to get you out of where you do not belong."

You contemplate for a moment on his original question. There could be many reasons. A shared dream is not something you have ever hear of, but if the Great Mother is involved? Who knows what is possible. There is also the chance that he is a soul bound to Eywa that has somehow unfortunately become entwined with yours. Heck he could even be a figment of your imagination, this all an elaborate dream spanning years. You are, after all, a descendant of what was once Human. You have not the faintest idea how being part Human, no matter how small, might affect your connection to Eywa.

“I don’t know what this place is. But even if it is just a dream, I think we can both agree we’d prefer it to be a pleasant one, wouldn’t you agree?”

“So what’d ya suggest?”

“We should leave, find somewhere safe to wait out until either of us wakes up.” He nods in agreement with your statement.

“Alright then. Lead the way Snowflake.” Your face scrunches at the unrecognised word.

“I do not understand.”

“Snowflake?”

“Yea cuz of, ya know,” he vaguely gestures to all of you.

“Don’t worry about it.”

You stare at each other for longer than necessary before you turn around and begin your trek. He follows, attempting to be mindful of his steps this time.

---

Time feels funny in a Dream. It feels like hours have passed, but in tandem so does it feel like mere minutes. A moment as fast as breathing takes a lifetime. And when you blink, the world around you changes. Scenery you have seen thousands of times, but new and unfamiliar at the same time. It is a confusing feeling. But you keep going. A gentle breeze has been following you, guiding you.

Eywa must be watching.  What could she possibly be planning? You know it is not your place to question the Great Mother, but a little clarity would be nice once in a while.

The trek continues in silence, save for the song Eywa sings through the forest itself. A small comfort. You are grateful that within a dream there is no need to drink or rest. The two of you could travel indefinitely.

When you next blink you have to stop yourself in your tracks almost immediately. You are high upon a mountain, and out in the distance, your ancestor’s great Hometree stands tall and proud.

“Shit-!” Quaritch cusses as he catches himself before he falls over the sheer cliff face. He peaks over the edge. The tree tops before are indistinguishable, even in a dream this would not be a fall he wants to take any time soon. But he notes that it might work in shocking him awake. File it away as a last-ditch effort plan.

“This is the place.” You state as you cannot tear your gaze away from Hometree. You hate that you and your siblings were robbed of the experience of living in such a great gift from Eywa. You loath the humans who had done this to you, to your people. You hate how this is now part of the story of your People. The Elders speak of it with such venom, you can almost taste it yourself when you listen.

But your people have known peace since. The humans you know in Hells Gate are all wonderful. They treat you nicely, joke with you and tell you stories so fantastical you scarcely believe them. A world so far away hidden among the stars. So far that Eywa herself cannot reach. You like those stories and wonder if you’ll dream of such a place one day; Eywa willing.

“This is the place for what?” Quaritch asks you, pulling you from your quiet contemplation. You turn to face him and place a hand upon your chest.

“I feel it here. This is the place Eywa wants us to be. It is here we wait.” He huffs in annoyance at your explanation.

“Wait for what?”

You shake your head.

“I’m not sure. To wake up I hope.”

He nods in agreement and plops himself down on the ground, resting his back on the flat side of rock, arms and legs crossed. ‘Might as well get comfortable’, you think.

You turn to look at him as inconspicuously as you can. His gaze remains unchanging, focused forward toward the Hometree. You wonder what is on his mind, but do not have the confidence to ask. You study the side profile of his face, framed by the morning sky. You take note of the large scars that mar his face. You’ve seen it before, but never have either of you spoken before today. You wonder if this is something he would answer.

You sit down a little bit away on a different rock and close your eyes. For the first time in a long time, you enjoy the sun as it blankets you in a warm embrace. The feeling of comfort is so astounding you’re not sure where the sunlight ends and your skin begins. But you enjoy it nonetheless, knowing you could not afford such comforts in the waking world; you burn far too easily. The thought of your skin becoming sunburnt drifts your thoughts back to the human and how his skin looks.

You open your mouth to ask but stop. There is a sudden pull in your belly. An uncomfortable tugging. You hastily stand up; it feels as though you have been hooked through the back and are being pulled backward.

“The hell’s wrong with you?” The human asks, he is side eyeing you but still faces towards the tree.

“I—I must go. I will be back shortly.” You’re not sure you even believe your own words, but the pulling is becoming near unbearable. As you turn around to walk away from the cliff edge, your foot does not meet solid ground as you expect; it meets nothing.

---

You’re free falling.

You scream until your throat feels raw.

You franticly look around for something to grab. There is nothing. The world all around you is black. You cannot even see your hands when you lift them to your face.

You try to scream again, to beg and plead Eywa for help. You can’t see anything. You are afraid. But no sound comes out. You put your hands to your face, and instead of your own lips you are met with skin. You have no mouth. You frantically start clawing at the space, trying to tear it open, nails cutting small red lines in your frantic onslaught.

The panic worsens. The fear rips through you like glass shards in your blood. Tears flow freely from your face, that you can at least feel. You’re turning this way and that when you in front of you, one giant eye opens up in the void.

Red sclera and iris, black pupil. It’s as if the whole world comes to a stop. You don’t even notice that you are no longer free falling. You’re on the ground, legs bent up in front of you, your arms wrapped around your knees as you stare up into the Eye. You squeeze yourself so tight your nails are making half moon cuts into the skin.

Movement to your left. Another eye opens in the dark to gaze down on you. Then two more. Then four. Then eight. Sixteen. They multiply faster than you can count. The entire would-be sky of void is ingulfed in a sea of red. Different shapes and sizes. All equally threatening. Comforting? Every emotion you could muster bombards your very being.

The eyes, thousands upon thousands of them, start to bleed as they stare down at you.

And with that final terrifying visage, you wake up.

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Tag List: @mynameisbaby9 @nissilou @d4rno

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Let me tell you, everytime I saw Miles Quaritch on the big screen I had to bite my knuckle and cross my legs tight, because the theatre was super full of people and if I giggled at seeing my angry kitty blue man I would’ve died from embarrassment. I was sincerely just captivated by him and tried to focus on his plot instead of only his voice and body 😭🫣 THATS MY SHAME CONFESSION EVERYONE!!

Lmao yay~

Maybe a part two to the what would i tell my family when she meets recom quaricth???

Ohhh yes let's see what I can whip up!

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