Chapter Text
In his tribe, he was a young warrior. The son of Toruk Makto and accomplished hunter on his own.
He was well respected, an accomplished warrior all on his own, even though his slim physique and delicate bone structure set him apart from many others, not to speak from the fact that he was and would always be an Omega.
Logically, he knew that he hadn’t presented yet, but in his heart of hearts, he knew what he would be.
He loved helping his Grandmother mixing balms together, loved taking care of Tuk and helping around their settlement. He was made to be soft and caring, but father had asked him to be strong, to hold on until he found a mate that allowed him to be soft. To be himself.
So he fought on. He did his best to protect his Alpha brother, to hold him back, even as Lo’ak could easily overpower him. But Lo’ak never did. His little brother was so gentle with him, giving him hugs and comforting him when father forgot himself and scolded him harshly.
Neteyam was meant to be the strong one. He was meant to protect his brother, but even on occasions that he stood up for him and took matters into his hands, Neteyam drew strength from his brother's sheer Alpha presence. It wasn’t much, Lo’ak was too young and presented too early after all, but Neteyam saw his brother as his Alpha.
Father was a Beta and Mother had the usual Na’vi instincts, which were similar but not as strong as the Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamic of the humans. She read as a strong Alpha woman, her scent calming and fierce. Neteyam could always count on his mother for comfort.
It wasn’t unheard of for certain Na’vi to have stronger instincts, strong enough to manifest as the Dynamic the humans have identified. Neteyam wasn’t too different, but he knew about the mating hunts that can happen if avatar Omegas aren’t secluded on their first heat. He was aware that even Na’vi with a slightly stronger scent who fell into an aroused state could bring Alpha’s to hunt, their minds in a haze, rushing to be the first to mate with the owner of such an arousing scent that screamed to be claimed.
Only the Mating and Claiming mark would be able to stop this, the scent of the Omega mixing with an Alpha’s signaling the Omega as claimed.
Neteyam doubted he would ever be able to find someone. All the Alpha’s he knew were part of the tribe, friendly and amicable, but not what he would consider Mate material. Their scent didn’t call to him at all, some of them even made him wrinkle his nose from how overly strong they were.
He would never put those in his nest. Not that he had a noteworthy nest presently, not really.
Grandmother Mo’at helped him make a half decent nest that didn’t intrude too much in his family’s home, but it didn’t feel whole and now that they had to move away for their safety, Neteyam didn’t think he would be able to take many of his soft blankets with him.
Well, he could try, but it wouldn’t be fair to his Ikran…
Maybe he should speak with Grandmother. She would know what he needed to take with him. He’d never been wrong to turn towards her, and he didn’t plan to stop now.
Slim hands carefully folded the last few blankets, feeling their soft texture on his small hands before he set them into their bag.
Neteyam looked to the side, directly at his Grandmother. She had gently scolded him when he spoke about letting any of his blankets behind, telling him that he needed to nest regularly in a halfway decent nest for him to remain healthy. He had never gone without a customary scenting session since they found out he would present as such a delicate, fair sex.
Grandmother Mo’at had practically thrown herself at the books about Omegas that their Human ally’s had provided them, once it was revealed that Netayam’s sweet scent and general delicate build was a sign of him being an Omega. He had always been smaller than the other children, more easily brought to tears and prone to hide in his father's strong arms.
It was a higher level of primal instincts, something all Na’vi were by now aware of. Neteyam was pretty sure it was known even to the tribe they would seek Uturu from, so he and Lo’ak shouldn’t have too many problems. They had had their own fair share of Na’vi with higher Primal instincts, after all, and it would be the height of hypocrisy to discriminate against them for having those.
Kiri hadn’t shown any signs of being anything but a Beta and Tuk was too young for them to correctly guess, but Neteyam leaned strongly towards her being an Alpha. Tuk was a strong-headed girl, able to get her way in many situations where it shouldn’t be possible at all. She was even able to calm him a little in high-stress situations.
Lo’ak was in denial about it, but nobody asked Lo’ak for his opinion on that, so Neteyam would ignore it for now.
And still, he was afraid of what awaited him with the Metkayina tribe. Would he be able to make friends? Would he find a mate?
He felt his Grandmother’s hand lay heavily on his shoulder, squeezing softly to comfort him. He looked up with shiny eyes, knowing his Grandmother would see the tears in his eyes.
“Be strong, Neteyam. You will find a Mate, have hope for the future, little star.” Her hand left his shoulder and he heard her walk out of their tent.
Oh, if Neteyam could just have the same strength of mind as Grandmother Mo’at, he wouldn’t be here, on the verge of crying. This was all so sudden, and Neteyam didn’t know if he would be able to hold it together for much longer.
It was just so much.
He wasn’t made to be dominating. Neteyam was soft, a delicate little bunny in the midst of fierce warriors. He was never meant to be a frontline fighter, but father had wanted him to be trained, and Neteyam hadn’t been able to say no.
Even as he longed to learn more from Grandmother Mo’at, Neteyam trained in the way of the warriors to fulfill his father's wishes.
Mother knew he wanted to be Tsahik, that he wanted to heal and take care of their young instead of going out to hunt and fight. Heck, even father knew, but father refused to let him be a defenseless little Omega.
Strong heart. That's what father always told him. He had to hold on, he had to be an example.
Neteyam didn’t want to be an example anymore. He more than anyone else knew that his siblings got in so much trouble because they were trying to defend his honor from all the advances the older teens and young adult males made on him.
Father often scolded them now, telling them they had no time to do such things when they were at war with the Sky People, and the blame for not stopping it fell on Neteyam many times, but father also didn’t let them get hurt and always took care of the offending party after comforting Neteyam.
Father wasn’t perfect, not by a long shot, but he cared and that's what counted for Neteyam.
The flight was long and arduous.
Neteyam held on stronger to his Ikran, determinedly flying through the rain behind his parents. Tuk was flying with Mother for the next foreseeable future. Lo’ak and Kiri flew beside him, their eyes squinting just like his and rain pelting on them in unrelenting waves.
He was tired. It felt like they had been flying for an eternity, but he knew it had barely been a day since they left the Omatikaya. They rested a few times by now, but it seemed like they would do so again pretty soon, the rain was strong and none of them wanted to be sick.
Neteyam kept an eye out for an adequate resting place, squinting through the storm raging around them. He let out a relieved sigh when he spotted a small rock island able to comfortably hold their ikrans while also possessing enough trees to cover them from the storm, at least partly.
He gave a sharp cry, signaling his parents and siblings that he had found a resting place and went ahead to guide them. Once they had landed he gladly took Tuk from his Mother and cuddled with her, humming to calm her as his parents settled down, and his siblings did whatever they felt they needed to do.
It was not the end of their journey, but Neteyam was glad for the reprieve.