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.
Previously:
They were all arguing about something and suddenly the bastard was pulling out a knife and gesturing angrily to Harry, who then saw far more of the blue woman than he ever wanted to see.
Sylwanin snarled at Tsu'tey, crouching over the Not Sky Person her mother and her little sister had been seeing in dreams sent from the Great Mother, her tail lashed from side to side as she bared her teeth in a warning to her little brother-to-be. Harry had a hand clapped over his eyes as his cheeks burned bright red.
N'deh then did something that shocked everyone, he started to laugh.
And Now:
Tsu'tey sneered at the Demon trailing behind N'deh, he had no purpose being here, he did not understand why Sylwanin would not just let him end the Demon's cursed existence. He was small and weak and pink. It would be a mercy.
Harry mean while, was trying to prevent himself from doing something very childish that would either embarrass him or start another fight by turning around and kicking that glowering sour brat in the shins. He would have gone for the balls but since they were currently at his head height he wasn't sure if he was actually flexible enough to get his foot that high. He didn't want to look stupid by even attempting it.
At least he was keeping up with the three insanely tall people, his shorter legs having to move three times faster to keep up with their graceful loping strides that devoured the distance between the Human settlement and this 'Hometree' place they were taking him to. He got the distinct impression that he didn't have a choice in going with them. It probably had something to do with the short sword – or rather the long knife – in that foul tempered brat's hand and how he jabbed it in Harry's direction with a menacing growl whenever it looked like the Wizard was going to bolt.
Sylwanin was having mixed feelings about this, he was obviously different from other Sky People she had encountered, he had been running away from them for one. Add to that, his reactions were non-violent, non-hostile to her and N'deh, Tsu'tey was the only one who received any visible kind of hostility – though if what N'deh told her of their first meeting, her soon to be brother deserved it.
The Sky Person had stripped out of that thing Grace called a 'Shirt' and tied it around his waist. She could see the patterns of The People coiling up his pink skin, marks of battle, some long faded others fresh and clear, he moved with ease and kept up with them easily, his head and eyes, those bright green eyes that haunted her mother and sister, moving and watching and judging all that he saw. She wondered what he thought of them, their behaviour and their appearance. For surely they must look as strange to him as he did to them, and yet he was... he felt young, almost as young as her sister, yet if what she recalled of Sky People he was most likely her age, possibly even somewhat older. Tsu'tey had clearly not left a good impression, and the Warrior was just as hostile to the Not Sky Person though not though any personal wronging, simply for being what he is. N'deh actually seemed fond of him, as much as N'deh could be fond of someone, he was rather withdrawn from the rest of the Tribe, he held his own council but was reliable and well respected. She had heard that once he had intended to Mate with a woman of the People only for Eywa to reject their union – the woman had not spoken to him since and for so long he continued to love her regardless. Sylwanin sincerely hoped that Grace would be able to salve the hurts that Xios had inadvertently caused his heart.
She shook herself of her thoughts, she should not think such things while escorting a prisoner to the Tsahik, he could have escaped while her mind wandered.
A quick glance back revealed him looking mutinous and unhappy as he kept pace with them, glancing longingly at the forest as though desiring escape, undoubtedly he was. But not for the reason she believed, Harry was concerned for Zeus and Hera, especially for their clutch. Zeus would probably be in a right state, Harry had been missing for a while and if Zeus was too busy looking for him instead of providing for his mate, Hera may have to leave her eggs to look for food, either allowing them to cool, or leaving them open for some predator to come and consume them. Either way, he wanted this over with already so he could go back and make sure his Wyverns were alright.
It was a shame he had never learned the Animagus Transformation, it would have been useful to just change form and slip off while the giants were busy freaking out and wondering what the hell just happened. Though knowing his luck his Animagus form wouldn't be able to breathe the atmosphere, or be too physically weak to fly or climb or run faster than his human self. Ain't life a bitch?
Darkness had begun to creep up over the horizon and the plant-life around him was already glowing dimly with bioluminescence. Unbeknownst to Harry the white markings that patterned his skin were glowing as well, very slightly but it was enough for N'deh to notice and the Hunter stared briefly. Those markings were the Blessing of Eywa, they showed her favour to The People.
He glanced over to Tsu'tey who was looking exceptionally sour as he glared at the Sky Person's back.
They began to slow into a jog as the shadow of Hometree darkened the forest around them, Harry's head craning up to stare at the massive tree. Hot damn, they sure do grow 'em big here... he was getting flashbacks to his lessons on Norse Mythology, the tree of Yggdrasil, and Odin's six legged horse. Green eyes lingered on the Na'vi mounts, the humans called them Dire Horse, the People Pa'li, sat upon their armoured backs were yet more blue people dressed similarly and with haircuts similar to the Brat behind him and the Old Man, he saw women amidst them dressed similarly to the Woman who was leading him on. They were all armed with bows larger than he was and all possessed unfriendly golden eyes focused on him, he fought not to stick his tongue out or bare his teeth, this was a different culture, poking his tongue out might be inviting someone to cut it out – or do something else with it that he wasn't keen on anyone but Luna doing. Even though she was dead.
The group began to slow to a walk and the Brat moved to grab Harry, catching movement from the corner of his eye, fists far too used to fighting for his life snapped back and a pointy elbow was driven into a location that no man ever wished to receive a pointy elbow.
To his credit, Tsu'tey only hissed in pain and hunched slightly as the Demon danced out of arms reach, watching him with narrowed beady little eyes. He took a deep breath and straightened painfully, jutting his chin out to prove he was unhurt from the painful blow, Sylwanin looked torn between hilarity and concern – N'deh had no problem with smirking at him and patting his shoulder as he passed.
"You should know better than to treat some that Eywa favours so like that. They are always full of surprises," the old Hunter told him, his voice almost mocking to Tsu'tey's ears. He folded them back and hissed at the old man and at the Sky Demon, before awkwardly stomping off as best he could while obviously trying to avoid causing himself pain.
Harry winced, looking up at the woman apologetically making her pause when she glanced down at him. He hoped that his expression conveyed his feelings properly, he didn't know if anyone but the old man could speak English, and even then his words were broken and heavily accented. Not that his seemed very different to them, he was using a long dead accent and words that probably hadn't been used in over a century.
Sylwanin floundered a little before she awkwardly patted him on the head and gestured for the little Sky Person to follow her. She didn't know why but when he looked at her like that something in her chest squeezed and she had nearly hugged him as she would her beloved Neytiri.
"This way," she told him slowly, knowing he did not speak Na'vi.
Harry trailed after the woman, looking around him in wonder, this place was built similarly to his home but it was so much bigger, obviously built for more than just one person and a pair of Wyverns.
Burning torches lit everything even as leather balloons filled with something glowed and offered their own pale blue-green light, casting eerie shadows on the wooden walls. Everything was so natural and well made, so different and alien that he found himself smiling in delighted wonder despite himself and his resolution to be as belligerent and uncooperative as possible. The smile fell from his lips as all the incredibly tall blue people clustered around him and the woman, murmuring, eyeing him with a mixed response of hatred, confusion, fear, curiosity and wariness.
One man reached out to touch him but Harry skipped out of reach before his fingers could brush him, he shot the man a wide eyed look of confusion and scampered a little closer to Sylwanin. He wasn't sure if he liked the look in that one's eyes.
All too soon they were stopping, right in the middle of the crowd and in front of a distinguished looking older man, older than N'deh by quite a way if Harry's eyes weren't deceiving him. He was clad in different fashion to everyone else, he must have been the leader, he wore more feathers and beads than the others and had an odd headdress. He felt like he was looking at a tribe of Native Americans from before the Colonisations.
He swallowed tightly and hoped that he wouldn't receive the same treatment as the invading White Man did, or what the White Men did to the Natives.
He'd had his fill of torture for a lifetime. And death. Especially his death. It got boring after a while.
Neytiri gasped as she saw the Not Sky Person from her dreams, her whole body froze where she was, at the top of the spiral, peering between the support roots like a Human child did through the banister of the stairs. She twitched and turned her head to watch her mother prowl past her and down into the Communal Ground, beaded shawl clicking delicately with her every movement.
Her father seemed to be studying the little Not Sky Person, green eyes watched her father warily and though for his size and comically pink skin, the way he turned his head to watch the Olo'eyktan and shifted his body made him suddenly seem very dangerous in her eyes. She did not question her instincts, the instincts Eywa gifted her with, they told her that this person could be a great friend, or a great threat. She hoped her father would See and treat him as friend.
She clasped her hands together over her stomach and prayed to the Great Mother that this eve would be a turn for the Better.
Harry swallowed nervously as the Hagrid sized people circled him, the distinguished looking man joined by a regal looking woman as they both studied him. He twitched and shifted out of reach when the woman reach for him, he didn't know if they would harm him or not and while he wasn't especially fond of these people, he didn't really want to hurt them – but he would defend himself.
That promise must have communicated itself to them because the woman stepped back and ceased to circle him, he could feel the Mother hum in the back of his head. She seemed smug so he could only assume her attack on the Muggles had gone in her favour, he felt her presence wrap around him soothingly and he knew these people wouldn't hurt him without provocation.
He relaxed and offered the regal looking woman a slightly shy smile from under his hair.
She stared at him for a moment before she too, smiled, revealing that yes, she was a staggeringly beautiful woman beneath the harsh lines of disapproval and age. Her fangs caught the firelight and despite the unintentionally ominous looking sight Harry allowed her outreaching hand to land on his hair without tensing.
Their hands were fascinating, long with only three fingers and an equally long thumb, they curved and seemed almost boneless if it weren't for the clear joints he could see beneath the skin. But still, they moved and curled seemingly without the care for joints. He allowed the woman to smooth her hand through his hair, fingers slightly scraping his scalp, he practically held his breath as it slid down to the back of his neck, making him shiver at the strangely sensitive skin she touched.
"You have been favoured by Eywa," she said in English, taking Harry by surprise.
Then what she said hit him, "The Mother? Is that what she's called?" he asked curiously.
Mo'at smiled, "Yes. She tells us much about you. Your people. Your Mother." Her eyes closed briefly in mourning for a Planet she had never known and Harry looked down at his feet, hands fisting angrily at the reminder of Gaia's fate, and a little betrayal at the Mother for revealing a past he wished to escape to complete strangers.
"What do you want from me?" Harry asked, because no one save for a few countable on one hand had touched him softly without wanting anything in return, without demanding something of him.
The Tsahik smoothed the pad of her thumb down the back of his neck, against his will he felt himself almost becoming boneless, were he a cat he probably would have started purring. As it was he panicked slightly and pulled free of her, his hands snapping back to hide the sensitive area of skin, feeling the very fine dusting of downy hair that grew there had gotten longer. Mo'at had to smile at his childish response, he was more like them than even he realised, she could see a few mothers in the crowd stifling their own confused smiles at his reaction – it was the same one all children on the cusp of adolescence had when their mother's tried to braid their Queue.
She crouched in front of him so they were at eye level, Harry allowed himself a brief moment of insufferable jealousy at how graceful these people were before she spoke with the same kind of slow consideration as someone who was tasting the words, "Just as the Sky People were to you, so you will be to The People." Harry felt the blood drain from his face, he wouldn't hurt them! He wouldn't! Mo'at gently pressed her hands to his chest, the two of them lost in their conversation paying no mind to the clustering Na'vi and their confusion, Neytiri was translating what was being said to her people, "Eywa has chosen you as a Child of her Favour. You are a Brother to The People and will be welcome in Hometree."
Harry was practically hyperventilating at this point, he didn't know how to feel. On the one hand he was deliriously happy, he had just been accepted regardless of his past, of his sins, of his appearance, so easily and with such kindness these people had offered him a home. But at what cost to them? If the Muggles discovered his presence, realised what he was...
Against his will his eyes slid away from the Tsahik's eyes and looked to the people around him, unknowingly appearing to them as a lost and frightened child, green eyes lingered on the children, on the elderly, on a little girl holding her older brother's hand, a kind of rag doll made out of dried grasses and fabric, coloured with blue, purple and yellow dye clutched in her little hands.
He couldn't sentence these people to death.
He looked to Mo'at and gently gripped the hands that pressed against his chest and gently pushed them away, back towards her. "I... I am happy, happier than you could ever know that you would offer me this." He swallowed and looked down at his feet, at the ground, unable to meet her golden eyes because he knew that if he did he would ignore everything his mind was telling him and join these people. He would join them because he was so tired of being alone, he had Zeus and he had Hera and he was content, but these were people, this was community, this was something he thought he could never have again and it broke his heart to turn away from it. He wouldn't have been able to stop the tears that began to sting and roll down his cheeks even if he had wanted to.
"But I cannot. You know of the Magi, you know of the Purges and of the Sky People's hate for my kind. I... I would blight your people if they discovered me." His eyes unwillingly tracked to a young woman, an infant curled at her breast, sucking its thumb and staring at him with all the wide eyed innocence and curiosity that a child could. He could not pull his eyes away from that which he would never ever experience, from the life that would be forever barred to him now that Luna was dead.
"I would not wish my People's fate onto yours."
Mo'at followed his gaze and closed her eyes in understanding. Neytiri couldn't even bring herself to translate what the Not Sky Person had just said, she could feel her heart breaking into a thousand pieces for him, for his pain and she cried with him.
Harry finally managed to tear his eyes away went he felt a soft pressure on his forehead, the blue woman in the red and yellow beads having just pressed a kiss to his forehead before unfolding to her full height. He looked up at her and for a moment she could feel her heart break for him, he seemed so young and yet he stood as a Warrior, as an adult years before his time, she placed her hands on his cheeks, using her thumbs to catch and wipe away his tears.
"Little Brother," she told him, "You are welcome in the eyes of Eywa and her People."
Chapter Fin...
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