Rating: Mature
Languages: English, Na'vi
Genre: Hurt/Comfort
2nd Genre: Romance
Character A: Harry J. Potter
Character B: Tsu'tey
Summary: When they went to sleep, they hoped of a better future. But with Gaia insane and Magic as dead as his friends, Harry has no reason to stay. Escape and exist was all he had in mind when he stowed away on a ship to Pandora. Not another war. Slash.
WARNING: Slash, Character Death, AU, OCs, Dark Themes.
Last time:
"Z-zeus," he croaked, latching onto the Wyvern's neck. His friend didn't even need him to say it, didn't need words, they never did, never had. He hissed threateningly at the Blue Skin before twisting and launching himself into the skies, powerful wings baring him and his Human back to their nest, back to their home. He flew faster than he had ever flown before in his life.
His Human was breaking, breaking, breaking. The cracks had been growing and healing and fracturing again and again and again, he had shattered now. So many pieces, like crushed glass, shattered mirrors, sharp and beautiful with memories and emotions that cut oh-so very deeply.
Harry's heart bled as everything finally came crashing down.
And now:
It faded.
Like breathing.
Like a pulse he felt it draw in and out, he felt it cold and warm, like a thing alive and it took him with it.
It didn't hurt here.
But it couldn't last.
Everything came tumbling down, like a house of cards blown in the wind, like an ant hill kicked open by a spiteful child and now his thoughts and fears and memories came spilling out in a panic like so many writhing squirming ants, all panicking, trying to find their places again, trying to squirrel away what was precious with no idea of where or how.
Logic, by its definition, had nothing to do with emotion.
When his emotions choked him, logic saved him, kept him going, kept him functioning. Kept him fighting and surviving even as everything around him turned to blood and ash. As friends and family and precious people fell and died and cried out in pain and loss. When they looked to him for safety, for salvation. He forced himself to function when his emotions churned and thrashed like a hurricane within him, he turned to logic, to cold hard facts and rational to keep his people alive, keep them functioning. He was their rock and their safe haven.
But that was in the Wars. In the Purges.
That was when he had someone to turn to, someone depending on him, a reason to fight, a goal to reach.
Something to live for.
And now... Now it had finally hit home that he had no one to return to, no one depending on him, no one and no reason to fight, no goal to reach and... overwhelmingly, inescapably hammering into his consciousness, nothing to live for.
It choked him.
It burned and it froze him.
It flayed him.
And he let it.
Zeus crooned, coiling protectively around his Mate and nest. Nest which held his precious children and his Broken Rider. The two legger had not moved, nor spoken, since he slipped from Zeus's back and against Hera's side. The female pulling him firmly against her warm bulk, protected, like the clutch beneath her folded wings because, even though they did not fly together, the human was precious to her as well.
It had been days.
Were it not for the steady rise and fall of his chest and the screaming thrashing nightmares that haunted his sleep the pair would have thought him dead. They tried to comfort him as best they could, crooning and singing to him as they did their own children, gentle touches, Hera snapped and nuzzled at his hair soothingly as often as she could but still he did not stir. Not even the promise of food, right there in front of him squirming and bleating in pain and fear could rouse him – and they did not twig the sudden intensity of his nightmares with the sound and smell of the dying creature. They were smart but not like that.
So they waited. They waited as the broken pieces of their human tried to put themselves back together as the sky above growled with anger and the winds picked up, causing the two Ikran to curl together tightly, hooking into the earth and flattening their wings over one another and their nest as the sky went dark, the sun blotted out. Lightning flashed in Harry's eyes.
And a storm raged over Pandora.
As much as he sorely wished to dismiss the Not Sky Person's words, Tsu'tey found himself unable to just brush them off as the desperate ramblings of a lesser creature. The memories of that explosive confrontation wouldn't let him, they played out in his mind's eye continuously and consumed his waking thoughts. He was unable to forget or push aside those eyes, those green-green eyes burning with a thousand things left unspoken, a lifetime of fear and pain and horror and hatred. How the Not Sky Person hated.
That hatred moved him more than any other emotion. No creature could hate like that, not without just reason, not even the Sky People with their senseless destruction and greed and insanity could hate like that. And no being so beloved by Eywa would hate an undeserving soul.
Which led him to Grace.
His thoughts unable to settle, his stomach churning like a thousand Eltungawng, he went to the only person who knew Sky People better than the Forest. The Dreamwalker looked surprised to see him appear so suddenly in her school, he had not been too keen on her lessons when he was younger but attended them as it would be his advantage to speak English when he became Olo'eyktan. But now, it served a different, but just as important a purpose.
"I See You, Tsu'tey," the Dreamwalker greeted politely, and smiled happily to see him. She was always like that, always happy to see them and teach them, she was fascinated by them and their world, her face and eyes would light up whenever she found or met someone or something new, for a moment, Tsu'tey felt a little guilty that he would end up crushing that smile from her face. She had always been somewhat hesitant to speak on the subject of the Not Sky People, her face would pinch and twist in discomfort, shame and nervousness, as if she knew what she had to say would not please others. But he needed to know.
"What happened to the Not Sky People on your planet?" he demanded, foregoing the traditional pleasantries.
He knew to expect something unpleasant, he knew that the smile would fall from her face, but he had not been expecting the flash of emotions that broke across her face before she could control herself and hide them away. Fear, horror, shame, a hundred other things he could not identify and then her eyes shuttered and her face just became weary. Too weary for a young woman barely old enough to Mate.
Whatever he had been expecting, that alone told him it was far worse than he had been imagining.
Grace could have sworn her blood ran cold when Tsu'tey asked that question.
Her stomach twisted itself into iron knots that felt as though they were trying to tear free of her body, she felt sick and shaky and all at once her fingers felt cold and she became light headed. As though suffering a dizzy spell. The Purges, oh gods above, he was asking about the Purges. This part of their history could destroy what relations they had with the indigenous people, the Omaticaya would banish all Dreamwalkers and Humans from the jungles in a heartbeat and no longer simply defend themselves but actively attack and look to battle with them.
She floundered in panic.
Everything in her head was telling her to lie, to tell Tsu'tey that the Magic Users deserved their deaths. That the Sky People – the Muggles – were defending themselves from a threat that sought to destroy them and their world. It would prevent the Na'vi from declaring war on humanity, prevent the loss of so many hundreds of lives should Quaritch decide to re-enact the Purges. But...
But...
Her heart wouldn't let her. It would let her ignore the millions of innocent children, babies, slaughtered for a difference in their genetics that they had no control over. It would let her besmirch the lives of a species and civilisation destroyed for no reason other than human fear and paranoia, a species that they raped and destroyed and stole everything that was good from and claimed it as their own. Half of their medical advancements came from knowledge stolen from these people, the deaths and dissections of creatures so pure and magical that the ones who did the killings could no longer stomach their cursed existence and took their own lives out of pure guilt.
She couldn't even lie to herself and say that humanity weren't monsters.
It was moments like these, when a single person stood at a crossroads, unknowingly carrying the fates of millions upon their shoulders, a simple truth, the knowledge of one's self, can make all the difference between a few lives and a million.
Grace sighed, feeling every year as old as her human self as she sat down on her desk, "Sit down Tsu'tey," she told him quietly, sounding so very old and tired that the Warrior did as he was told without his customary sneer, feeling guilt bite at his toes as he did so.
"It was over a hundred years ago when the Sky People discovered them. The Wizards..."
Neytiri chewed her lower lip anxiously, she was tired and heartsick of all the death and violence that consumed her dreams with fire and screaming. So very very tired, and so very frightened. She couldn't cope with it any longer, it was driving her insane.
She couldn't eat, the sight of meat, raw or cooked, turned her stomach. She couldn't look at a knife or a bow without wanting to take it in hand and run to the Sky People's settlement and kill those monsters, slaughter and destroy them until the soil ran red with blood and the fear in Hari's green eyes was gone and replaced with joy.
But she was not a hunter. She was not a warrior. She had not yet even become Pa'li Makto.
So all she could do was cling to her older sister, her beloved Sylwanin, her wonderful, powerful, proud sister with her muscular arms and back and kind amber eyes that watched and listened without comment or reproach as her precious little sister poured her heart and soul out to her in hiccuping sobs. Told her about the horrors that plagued her sleep, about the Sky People's insanity and fury. Told her of horrors that made her mouth dry and her heart cold.
Ignited the fires of war in that cold fearful heart, swallowing all fear and leaving nothing but anger and justice.
And all the while, Eywa raged.
Tsu'tey was... numb. Yes, that was a good way to describe it as he left Grace and began his trek back to Hometree.
He was numb, unable to feel the dirt beneath his feet, the plants that brushed his skin nor hear the trilling calls of the Syaksyuk above. All he was aware of was the maelstrom of emotion, thoughts and memories that thundered through his head like a herd of panicked Talioang.
The Wizards had been hunted down and wiped out in under five years, along with every creature, location and object relating to them. Everything of value stolen from their corpses and claimed by the greedy Sky People, the Muggles. It turned Tsu'tey's stomach to hear of the Purges in such detail, at first he had been angry and furious and planning to attack Grace, but the discovery that she had family who had been Magic stilled him, especially when she described what the non-magic families were subjected to. It chilled him to the core as he recalled those blazing pain filled, hateful green eyes.
'There's no one left!'
How could he have been so cruel and thoughtless?
Shame made his skin crawl and his guts writhe, he felt sick, as though he were about to throw up but could not muster the strength. He dreaded to think how the Not Sky Person – how Hari – was thinking or feeling. The guilt was almost physically painful as he dashed back to Hometree, fully intending on hunting Hari down and apologising.
The Wizard had left his basket behind and, in a moment of numb consideration, Tsu'tey had brought it back to Hometree with him, most likely out of guilt. Now, he would return it and beg for forgiveness and even if he never received it, Tsu'tey would ensure that the Wizard would never have to suffer as he had on his Home, he would not let a Dreamwalker or a Sky Person anywhere near him. He had been through enough.
He was a Warrior, one more than worthy of Tsu'tey's respect, he may have been pink and tiny, but his heart was strong and proud. A heart that Tsu'tey may have broken beyond repair just when it was healing from the nightmare.
Fear of what such a tiny and broken being could meet within the forests had Tsu'tey practically sprinting through the Village, ignoring the curious and playful calls of his brothers and sisters, his fellow Warriors, as he loped to the upper branches. Almost as if sensing his Partner's desperation, Tsu'tey's Ikran was waiting for him, amber eyes bright with anticipation as the Na'vi warrior connected to him and swung onto his back, adjusting the basket slung across his back so nothing fell out before they took to the sky.
Somehow, somehow he needed to make this right. He just had to.
Harry was vaguely aware that he was being ridiculous and melodramatic.
He had known for over a year that he was the last Wizard, the last one of the Magi alive, he had known that and he had accepted that and carried on with life as best he could. He mourned of course, he lost count of how many tears he shed for those he had lost in the Purges and to Gaia's insanity in the aftermath of pain and silence. He just hadn't fallen to pieces, there was always something to do, food to find, Mind Rape to shake off, fights to win, shelter to be found, and then when he came to Pandora it was the same thing, but a whole different kettle of fish.
He didn't have the luxury of being a child any more. If, indeed, he ever had.
But regardless, he was being selfish and making both Zeus and Hera worry themselves to moulting, which was not fair on them. The storm had finally tapered out in the early hours of the morning and, now in the aftermath, Harry felt hallow, empty, clean. As if he had pushed all of his chaotic thoughts and emotions into his magic and used it to fuel the storm, not unlikely, he had done it on Earth during the Purges to help his people escape. This time he had just... he just needed an out, he needed to vent, to release it all without harming anyone or anything, so when he felt Eywa's anger, he joined her and gave her his power which she took gladly, understanding his need and using his gift.
He took a deep shuddering breath, shifting his weight, he felt different. Lighter and yet heavier.
Zeus knickered excitedly as his rider slowly heaved himself to his hands and knees, shivering in the brisk morning wind following the aftermath of the violent storm. All at once he felt oddly different and frowned, had he changed again? He busied himself with examining himself while Zeus and Hera nudged and snuffled at him, making sure he was alright, he was trying to distract himself, force himself not to think about the truth and he knew it would probably do him more harm than good but... if he didn't stop being such a melodramatic child then he was going to die on this planet. And while the idea of death sounded quite nice – he was dimly aware of Eywa's concerned alarm at his thoughts – this wasn't Earth, he wouldn't rejoin his people, the Magi, he wouldn't find Hermione or Ron or Luna or Neville or Ginny waiting for him. He would be alone. He wondered if Eywa could even accept him into her when he died.
Ah, the white spots were brighter and he was taller, not by much but definitely noticeable now that he looked at his feet and saw his trouser legs had hiked up a good few inches. No wonder he was sore.
He sighed, patting Zeus on the nose and just collapsing back in the nest, he was listless and restless, but he couldn't bring himself to move or do anything. Was this depression? When you just couldn't bring yourself to do something, when it felt like the whole universe was just having a massive laugh at you? Harry sighed again, he was doing that a lot lately, he just felt so... old.
Old and tired and... he curled up amidst the eggs, feeling his whole body shuddering as his eyes burned.
He couldn't, he just couldn't cope with this. Not anymore it... it wasn't...
He didn't break, he just... crumbled. And sobbed himself into exhausted sleep.
Whether by the Great Mother's design, some bizarre quirk of Ikran intelligence or the curious, distinctly alien, concept of Luck that Grace sometimes spoke of, retrieving the Not Sky Person, the Wizard, Hari, had been much easier than Tsu'tey had been anticipating. Finding him had been the difficult part.
He had first gone to the Floating Mountains, where he had followed Hari the first time. He understood now, why he had chosen a Mountain that overlooked the Well of Souls. He too would wish to watch over and protect the only tangible representation of the Mother he knew, especially if the Sky People had truly – he shook himself, there was no longer any question of 'if', they did, they had and the only survivor was now here on Pandora hoping and praying for a second chance.
He eyed the two Ikran warily as they drew back from their nest, allowing him to approach their precious brood and the tiny pink form curled up between them. He did not like to admit fault, especially with himself, he was not supposed to make mistakes or be anything less than the best of the People as Olo'eyktan, but he had done wrong here and he knew it, regardless of how the wrong was made in ignorance it was now his duty, his responsibility, to make it right.
Even if the best he could accomplish was giving him up to Mo'at's care. His pride, his honour, was no longer a factor, no longer a concern, he could not heal the breaking he caused, so he must swallow his pride. He had forfeited both honour and pride with his actions and words – his concern now was for Hari, his brother, who was more important than both.
Nothing would dissuade him from this he decided as he gathered up the tiny form from between the clutch of eggs, he was cool to the touch and fragile, his ribs bending beneath his hands as he tried not to wake him. It only made guilt stab even harder into his gut, he was barely the size of a child and even more delicate, it shamed him to know he had been cruel. But on the other hand, he could not help but be a little unsettled by how he had not even noticed this when he met the Wizard, he held such force and presence that his size and shape had been nothing more than a passing observation soon forgotten.
Tsu'tey shook such thoughts away as he swiftly retreated from the Ikran nest, the white female watching him go with bright green eyes as she settled herself over the clutch of eggs and the brown coloured male hissed warningly at him. No doubt promising retribution should his rider come to any harm, Ikran were like that, he had noticed, when you rode one you became one of them and they protected you as one of them. Either way, he nodded and the creature snorted, satisfied, before lunging over the side of the cliff with a shriek, no doubt looking for food.
Adjusting his hold on the cold bundle in his arm, Tsu'tey quickly climbed upon his Ikran and took to the skies, the sooner he brought Hari to Mo'at the sooner he could begin to make reparations.
Syaksyuk – Prolemuris. The four armed monkies. http://james-camerons-avatar.wikia.com/wiki/Prolemuris
Talioang – Sturmbeest. http://james-camerons-avatar.wikia.com/wiki/Sturmbeest
Bitch-Fish - Dinicthoid. http://james-camerons-avatar.wikia.com/wiki/Dinicthoid
Chapter Fin...
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