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A Drop in the Sea - Chapter 1: Pride

Aonung x F!OC

The Metkayina and the Ta'unui reef clans have long had a close relationship. Ever since Aonung was born, the clans have come together every two years for a fortnight-long celebration. Following the attack on the Ta'unui by Quaritch and his men, tensions have been high between the two clans. In hopes of righting past wrongs, Tonowari invites the Ta'unui back to Awa'altu for the first time in four years. With the celebration comes the reunion of friends old and new.

It has been four years since Aonung has seen Payiva, the second daughter of Ta'unui's Olo'eyktan. They have known each other all of their lives, but things are different now. Aonung is eighteen years old and learning how to be a good leader. How will Payiva react to seeing him after all this time? Will they be able to rekindle their friendship, even as his clan harbors the man responsible for the attack on her own people?

Being the Olo’eyktan’s son undoubtedly had its perks. Being the next Olo’eyktan meant that certain things could be … overlooked. Aonung was not too proud to admit that he used said privileges from time to time. 

Well, maybe Aonung was a little proud. He was definitely smug as he lounged on top of his ilu in the midday sun. It was almost too easy to convince the Omatikaya brothers that Ronal had personally requested their assistance in assembling new maruis on the edge of the village. 

The task, while not entirely difficult, was tedious, but Neteyam and Lo’ak feared no one more than they feared Ronal. With valid reason, Aonung thought to himself. His mother was intimidating on a good day, and she was still not entirely fond of the Sully family, even three years after their arrival in Awa’altu. 

The forest boys and their sisters have grown on Aonung, though he would never say that to their faces. Their friendship certainly did not stop him from taking the opportunity to pass off his chores and spend the day sunbathing on the water.

Aonung was not the most sociable of Na’vi and escaped to solitude whenever he could, which was not often. On rare occasions like today, Aonung usually took his ilu, Voxpor, to the far side of the island for a lazy swim. It was one of the only spots where he could almost guarantee that no one would find him. 

Aonung sighed, rolling back his shoulders to assuage the tightness of his muscles. Tonowari had woken his son before sunrise to take him on an early-morning fishing trip outside of the reef. Aonung had gone without complaint, happy to be of use to his father and eager to learn anything the Olo’eyktan had to offer. Not that Aonung would say anything otherwise - his father demanded too much obedience for that. 

Still, his body was sore from the bashing of the morning waves. While Aonung had gotten taller and filled out a bit over the past few years, Tonowari was still larger and better equipped to handle to rough water. Not to mention that Aonung had still not been permitted to ride a tsurak, much to his annoyance. Voxpor had to swim twice as hard to keep up with the Olo’eyktan. 

Checking the sun’s position in the sky, Aonung resigned himself to the fact that he would have to head back to the village soon. He could not stay out too long, or someone would catch on to his plan. As much as his mother might dislike Neteyam and Lo’ak at times, Ronal would have Aonung’s tail if she found out he had shirked his chores for sunbathing. 

Upon his return the village, Aonung was greeted by his sister. Tsireya stood on the dock, hands on her hips and lips pursed. Aonung groaned internally as he prepared himself for chastisement. Generally, Tsireya was the most tender-hearted of the family, much more soft-spoken than the rest of them. She had, however, inherited what Aonung termed the “mom voice” from Ronal. It meant Aonung rarely did anything without getting shit for it from his mother or sister. 

Tuk adored her older brothers. Tsireya liked to think that she was the oldest sibling. Aonung could only hope that Kawnu was young enough to always look up at him with the same awe that Tuk did Neteyam. The youngest child of Tonowar and Ronal was only three, but he had so far shown signs of sharing Tsieya’s calm disposition. The infant hardly ever cried, which Aonung had found concerning at first. 

Surely, babies should cry every so often. Right? 

It worried Aonung anytime he was entrusted to watch Kawnu. If the baby did not cry, how would Aonung know if he needed anything? His mother told him that all Kawnu needed was his older brother’s attention, and the rest would come naturally for Aonung. He did not believe her. Nothing about babies seemed natural to Aonung. 

Admittedly, after Ronal gave birth, Kawnu became Aonung’s favorite person in Awa’altu. Because the child never cried, and certainly never talked back, Aonung found it rather easy to spend time with him. 

Once upon a time, Rotxo had been Aonung’s closest friend. He still was, but when Aonung came into one of his “moods,”  Rotxo made it clear that he now had new, Omatikaya friends to spend time with. Plus, whenever they did hang out, Rotxo always found a way to bring up Kiri, whom he had a not-so-subtle crush on. 

Really, Aonung was surrounded by people he enjoyed, but only in measured increments. 

“Sister,” he said by way of greeting as he jumped onto the dock. Aonung proceeded to tie up Voxpor’s saddle, not needing to see Tsireya to know that she was glaring at him. 

“Aonung, did you tell Lo’ak and Neteyam that Mother asked them to build the new maruis?” Tsireya asked in that motherly way of hers. 

Aonung shrugged, walking backward toward the food storage. “I might have said something along those lines.” 

“Aonung,” Tsireya growled, storming after him. “They are your friends. You can not use them as your own personal workers.” 

Aonung rolled his eyes at his sister, though a tiny pinch of guilt strummed in his chest. Truthfully, Aonung did not know how exactly to have friends. Before the Sullys arrived, he had never really had friends aside from Rotxo or Tsireya - and Tsireya did not count. Neither did the group of wannabes that followed him around from time to time. They had been fun when Aonung was younger, like a built-in group of yesmen. After they did jack-shit while Aonung got his ass handed to him by Lo’ak and Neteyam, and then conveniently disappeared during Lo’ak tirst at Three Brother’s, they had lost their appeal in Aonung’s eyes. 

“Aonung.” 

Great Mother. 

“Fine,” he groaned. “I will say sorry to the forest boys in the morning. Happy?” 

Tsireya raised a brow. “Now, Aonung.” 

Realizing this was not something he could easily get out off, Aonung dragged his body in the opposite direction of the food he so desperately wanted, toward the Sully marui. 

Thankfully, it was just the brothers inside the marui. Just as Lo’ak and Neteyam feared Ronal, Aonung had no desire to be on Neytiri’s bad side, any more than he already was, anyway. 

“Look who decided to show his fish-kissing face,” Lo’ak drawled, looking up from his food. 

“Lo’ak,” Neteyam warned his younger brother, though there was not much heat behind it. 

Aonung waved Neteyam off, scratching the back of his neck. “No, I deserved that. I should not have told you to build those maruis.” 

Lo’ak narrowed his yellow eyes. “Is this you apologizing right now?” 

Aonung stiffened, feeling uncomfortable. “Yeah, I guess.” 

“Usually people say ‘I am sorry’ when they apologize,” Neteyam commented. 

Aonung was becoming annoyed. “Usually people do not believe obvious lies,” he snapped. 

“Aonung,” Tsireya said sternly from behind him. 

Looking to the sky, Aonung cursed under his breath. “I am sorry.” 

The brothers exchanged a glance, then promptly burst into laughter. Aonung scowled at them as they sat, bent over and holding their stomachs.

“Fuck off,” he muttered, pushing past Tsireya so he could finally get some fucking food.

“See you later, Fish Lips!” Lo’ak yelled.

This is why Aonung did not like spending time with other people.

A Drop in the Sea - Chapter 2: Enamor

Aonung x F!OC

The Metkayina and the Ta'unui reef clans have long had a close relationship. Ever since Aonung was born, the clans have come together every two years for a fortnight-long celebration. Following the attack on the Ta'unui by Quaritch and his men, tensions have been high between the two clans. In hopes of righting past wrongs, Tonowari invites the Ta'unui back to Awa'altu for the first time in four years. With the celebration comes the reunion of friends old and new.

It has been four years since Aonung has seen Payiva, the second daughter of Ta'unui's Olo'eyktan. They have known each other all of their lives, but things are different now. Aonung is eighteen years old and learning how to be a good leader. How will Payiva react to seeing him after all this time? Will they be able to rekindle their friendship, even as his clan harbors the man responsible for the attack on her own people?

CH1

The Metkayina was a peaceful clan, and Tonowari has done much to ensure they stay that way. Part of that was keeping good relations with neighboring clans, primarily, the Ta’unui - one of the only other clans in the Eastern Sea. 

Both Tonowari and Tsungetsa respected each other as Olo’eyktans. Both men came into power at a young age, and it was Tonowari’s idea to bring the clans together periodically to retain a close relationship. Tsungetsa agreed, so every two years, the Metkayina and Ta’unui came together in a fortnight-long celebration.   

The last occasion was cancelled, due to the events involving the Sky People. Seya’altu, the village of the Ta’unui, was attacked by the demon Quaritch and his soldiers in their search for Jake Sully. Tsungetsa, honoring his word to Tonowari out of duty and respect for not only the Metkayina Olo’eyktan, but Toruk Makto, did not tell the humans where Jake Sully was. However, Tsungetsa did not take lightly to his clan or his mate being threatened. Seya’altu had been partially destroyed in the attack, and they had not felt fondly toward the Metkayina ever since. 

Therefore, this year’s celebration was crucial to rebuilding that connection between the clans. All of Awa’altu was in a tizzy, preparing for their guests. As an offer of peace and empathy, Tonowari insisted that the Metkayina host the celebration this year.

Aonung felt as if Ronal was practically breathing down his neck. Lo’ak and Neteyam had done a shit job building the maruis for the Ta’unui, and Aonung was blamed for it. It took him two days to tear everything down and build it back up again by himself. Blisters covered his palms by the end of it. Aonung named each one after Lo’ak, Neteyam, Rotxo, and his sister. He took carnal pleasure in popping each one, imagining that the blister was the Na’vi after which it was named. 

The nerves hit Aonung the night before the Ta’unui were set to arrive in Awa’altu. It was not a common emotion for the Olo’eyktan in training, and Aonung wished he could say that it was due to the responsibility Tonowari had been pushing onto him for the past week. No, it was not the fear that he would fail or embarrass his family in front of Tsungetsa. Nor was it worry over the importance of this specific celebration. The nerves stemmed from the fact that tomorrow Ta’unui would be here with his mate, his children. 

Aonung was almost sick to his stomach over a girl, and it drove him out of his mind. 

It only became worse the following morning, making him distracted. Lost in the memory of the last time the Ta’unui were in Awa’altu, Aonung did not hear when his name was called. That was, not until a fish hit him square in the face. 

Aonung hissed, swiping at the offending fish and baring his teeth at his attacker. 

“Lo’ak,” Kiri admonished. “Do not waste the food.” 

That morning, Ronal ordered her eldest children and the Sullys to move all the prepared food to the largest of the cooking maruis. The Tsahik did not want to appear disorganized in front of her guest, or worse: lacking in food. 

They were currently organizing the baskets they have gathered throughout the village. Cooking maruis were primarily circular to allow optimal space for preparation and storage. Baskets upon baskets were stacked against the walls in order of when their contents would be needed. The salted fish that Lo’ak threw at Aonung was intended for tonight’s welcome feast. It now lay limply on the reed floor at Aonung’s feet. 

Lo’ak was too busy laughing to listen to his sister. “Bro,” he wheezed. “You should have seen your face!” 

Aonung stepped forward, ready to pound the leaner boy into the ground. Lo’ak dodged behind Tsireya, causing Aonung to scowl. Coward. 

“We said your name like ten times, bro,” Neteyam said as he hauled another basket of fish onto a stack. He turned back to Anoung with a questioning look, wiping his hands on the outside of his thighs. “Could you not hear us?” 

“Do not mind Aonung,” advised Rotxo. The short-haired Metkayina boy brought in the last of the food baskets, placing it in front of Kiri with a sweet smile. Aonung barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “He is just nervous about seeing the Olo’eyktan’s daughter.” 

Now Aonung had to restrain his scowl as he glared daggers at his friend. “That is a lie.” 

No, it was not. 

“The Tsakarem?” Neteyam questioned, looking intrigued. “Is she not already betrothed?” 

“And like ten years older than us,” Lo’ak piped. He gave Aonung an impressed look. “I didn’t know you were into older women, bro.” 

Aonung swung his head to Lo’ak, mouth agape. “I am not! Pxe’ali is only six years older than me, not ten.” 

Kiri tilted her head, shooting a questioning glance to Rotxo, who had made himself comfortable at her side. “Are you not already the heir of the Metkayina, Aonung? Do you plan to be Olo’eyktan of both clans?” 

Aonung groaned in frustration.

Rotxo shook his head. “No, he-”

“I can speak for myself, Rotxo!” Aonung snapped. He turned to the others. “I do not see Pxe’ali that way at all.”

Rotxo decided to chime in again. “There are two sisters. Aonung had been enamored with Payiva since we were children.” 

“Rotxo!” Aonung was going to strangle him. 

“What?” Rotxo shrugged, unperturbed. “It is true.” 

“Rotxo, do not tease Aonung,” Tsireya said. Rotxo’s ears bent back at the admonishment. 

“I am not ‘enamored’ with anyone,” Aonung stated. “Least of all Payiva te Tsyika Ley’ite.” 

Lo’ak bent forward to whisper in Tsireya’s ear, though everyone could hear him. “The use of her full name suggests otherwise.” 

Before Aonung could pounce on Lo’ak, Tsireya be damned, a horn sounded in the distance. Aonung’s heart rate picked up at the noise. 

Tuk came racing into the marui, her braids bouncing as she went. “They’re here! The Ta’unui have arrived!” 

“Shit,” Aonung muttered. They were earlier than expected. “We need to get to the beach.” Ronal would scalp Aonung if he and Tsireya were late to welcome the visiting clan.

They swiftly left the cooking marui, practically sprinting across the tightly-woven nets that connected the village together. Most of Awa’altu was already waiting on the sand. The Ta’unui party had already crossed the reef barrier. Aonung shoved past the others, shouldering his way to the front of the group. 

Soon enough, he was standing at the front of the gathering crowd, next to his father. Tonowari glanced at Aonung from the side, only giving his son a nod in greeting. On the other side of the Olo’eyktan was Ronal. The Tsahik held Kawnu on her hip, though she stared stoically ahead. Tsireya joined shortly after that, completing their pseudo-family portrait. 

Just as the Ta’unui began dismounting their ilu and tsurak, Tonowari bent toward Aonung, whispering in his ear. “Do not cause problems, Aonung.” 

Aonung simply nodded, keeping his eyes downcast. He could not keep his toes from burying in the sand, however. 

The Ta’unui Olo’eyktan and Tsahik stepped onto the beach, their eldest daughter positioned next to her mother. Aonung could not help but make comparisons between their family and his own. 

The Metkayina and the Ta’unui had much in common due to their close proximity to each other. They shared the same turquoise skin and bright blue eyes, as well as their broader frames that were so unlike the Na’vi of the forests or planes. Both sea clans rode ilu and tsurak, displayed intricate tattoos as signs of honor and prestige, and - most of all - they both made sacred connections with the tulkun. 

Tsungetsa was just as tall as Tonowari, though perhaps not quite as wide. Rather than being bare-chested, Tsungetsa wore a shawl around his shoulders. The Olo’eyktan kept his hair braided and pulled back, which was common for the hunters of his clan - something that Aonung had found odd as a child. 

Ley was every bit the Tsahik that Aonung remembered the woman to be, if not a bit colder than the last time he had seen her. The Tsahik’s coral necklace clinked with every step she took. Unlike her mate, who stared straight ahead, Ley’s eyes were searching the crowd. Aonung saw the change on her face the moment she found Neteyam and Tuk in the crowd. The swirling ink on Ley’s brow rippled so severely that not even the string of shells across her forehead could disguise her glower. 

Aonung was reminded that it had not been easy to convince the Ta’unui to come for their celebration. He wondered how much of that resistance came from Tsungetsa or his mate.

Like her mother, Pxe’ali te Tsyika Ley’ite was regal and held her head high. Her disposition was much warmer, and if she saw the few Omatikaya in the crowd, she did not balk at them. The Tsakarem wore a net-like shawl woven with shells that matched the ones in her hair. While the Ta’unui had a different braiding style than the Metkayina, her hair was similar to that of Tsireya.

Pxe’ali had always been kind throughout their childhood, and beautiful in a delicate way. She and Tsireya got along well, both girls having trained closely under their mothers. Aonung had never been sure how to interact around the Tsakarem. As young children, Pxe’ali rarely wanted to play Aonung and Rotxo’s favorite games. Then, by the time he was ten or twelve, Aonung believed himself to be too cool to spend his time with girls. 

The last time their clans came together, a year before the Sullys arrived, hormones raged through Aonung’s body and he could hardly look at Pxe’ali, let alone interact with her. Now Aonung looked at the young woman, six years to his senior, and he felt nothing. 

Any and all anticipation that Aonung felt was due to someone else entirely. Somewhere in between ignoring and running away from Pxe’ali, Aonung became entangled with her younger sister. 

If Pxe’ali was a nice, cool breeze on a summer’s day, then Payiva was a hurricane coming to ruin everyone's plans. 

Aonung never intended to become friends with Payiva, it just happened. He did not know when exactly, or which of the celebratory years Payiva had cemented herself into Aonung’s life, but he suspected that she had forced his hand. Even when Aonung declared that girls were frilly and not worth his time, Payiva had thrown him to the ground and shoved sand into his face, showing Aonung just how frilly she was. 

After that, Aonung decided that Payiva was not a girl, not a real one anyway. Such mentality made it easy to disregard any pretty features Payiva may have developed by the time they were fourteen, when Aonung did everything he could to avoid her older sister. Payiva and Rotxo had teased him endlessly for it, which only served to cement the certainty in Aonung’s head that he did not have any of those odd feelings for Payiva. 

That was four years ago, however. Aonung was eighteen now, as was Payiva. Much had changed since the last time they saw each other. Aonung had changed, and he assumed that Payiva had too. Their lives were about more than games now. Despite what Rotxo told the others, Aonung was much more nervous to see his old friend than he was to see a pretty girl.

Regretfully, he should have been concerned about both. 

Payiva walked a step behind her parents and sister, hidden so that Aonung did not see her initially. That was good, he thought to himself, because if Aonung had seen Payiva approaching, he might have found somewhere else to be. Only one word came to his mind at the sight of her. 

Stunning.

The girl had always resembled her father most, if not in her features, than how she presented herself. Payiva walked like a warrior, exuding grace, though perhaps not intimidation. She was shorter than Aonung remembered, but then again, he had grown taller. Like Tsungetsa, Payiva’s hair was completely braided, though she let the long braids fall freely, almost reaching the small of her back. 

The youngest daughter of the Ta’unui Olo’eyktan and Tsahik was not as intricately decorated as her family members. The only thing that graced Payiva’s upper body was a simple shell necklace. It was not unlike what Metkayina women wore every day, Tsireya included, but standing next to her parents and sister, the choice almost felt too bold.

Payiva’s eyes, one of the deepest sets of blue irises that Aonung had ever seen, examined the crowd. It was not the searching look Ley had done earlier, with a target in mind. Nor did Payiva have the same open curiosity that her sister did. She just appeared to be taking the Metkayina in, assessing the situation. 

When her gaze landed on Aonung, he instantly stood taller. His back straightened on its own accord, shoulders pinned back and chest slightly puffing. 

Her eyes moved straight passed him.

Aonung blinked. 

Payiva hardly glanced at him. As if he was not worth the time. 

Annoyance quickly took over Aonung’s confusion. Even if they had not known each other their entire lives, Aonung was the next Olo’eyktan. He was worth more than a simple glance, especially from some rebellious second daughter without an official title. 

“I see you, Tsungetsa te Tsyìka Lì'itan,” Tonowari boomed, bringing his hand up to his forehead and then away toward the other Olo’eyktan in greeting. Ronal and the siblings copied the gesture. “I see you, Ley te Tsyika Pe'ite.”

“I see you, Tonowari, my friend,” Tsungetsa replied, foregoing the more formal usage of family names. It was a silent message to Tonowari that their grievances were to be put behind them. “I see you, Ronal.” 

Aonung did not dare glance at his mother to see what she thought of the informal greeting. He doubted that Ronal would allow her reactions to show on her face anyway.

Tonowari reached out and grasped Tsungetsa’s forearm. “We welcome you back to Awa’altu, old friend. It has been far too long.” 

A smile spread across the other man’s face. He returned Tonowari’s grip, slapping his hand on the other man’s shoulder. “That it has. Your family has grown!” 

All heads turned to Kawnu, whose head was resting on Ronal’s shoulder. 

Tonowari grinned. “Kawnu, greet the Olo’eyktan and Tsahik.” 

Kawnu pressed himself closer to Ronal’s chest but brought his hand to his head in greeting nonetheless. 

Tsungetsa laughed. “A bit scary am I, boy?” 

Aonung tried not to tense. Kawnu was a quiet child, and unused to meeting new people, let alone someone who held the same rank as their father. He was only three. 

Ley stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on her mate’s shoulder. “Leave the child be, Tsungetsa. He is only small, and you are quite large.” She turned to Ronal with a sweet smile. “You have birthed a beautiful child, Ronal. Though that is no surprise to me.” 

Ronal did not easily smile, but still, she dipped her head in thanks at the other Tsahik’s praise. “I have glad you can now meet him.” 

“As am I,” Ley agreed. The Tsahik then proceeded to fawn over how beautiful Tsireya had gotten over the past few years. Aonung held back the roll of his eyes. Typical. 

“Maybe we should settle our people before interrogating poor Tsireya, yawne,” Tsungetsa suggested. 

“Of course,” Ley sighed, returning to her eldest daughter’s side. 

The sisters stood quietly the entire time, Payiva looking more bored than anything else. Aonung’s hackles continued to rise at her blatant lack of decorum. 

“Aonung and Tsireya will show you to your maruis. Then, of course, we eat!” Tonowari announced. 

Aonung groaned internally. His father was always offering him up as a tour guide. Nevertheless, he dutifully moved to follow Tsireya, who was already making conversation with Ley and Pxe’ali. 

Before he passed Ronal, Aonung’s mother grabbed his arm and yanked him down. She whispered into his ear, “Tell the Omatikaya to keep their distance from Ley. She will not take kindly to them.” 

Gulping, Aonung nodded. He could only imagine how well Lo’ak and Kiri would take that advice. Aonung could only hope that Lo’ak would not try to push any buttons this week. Eywa knew that it would come back to bite Aonung in the ass.