The Time We Were Together

“Still alone, Räeya?”

The old lady scoffed, not moving her gaze from the plants she was carefully crushing. “Stop calling me that and go back”.

The na'vi shrugged, a smile on his lips as he looked at her. It felt like forever ago that they were all together in the worst of harmonies. To him it was the worst, at least; but he knew that for her, it had been the happiest years of her life. He tried for a long time to make her accept him, but her heart had been taken far away from what felt like a lifetime ago. Still, even now, age did not dare touch her features in a way that wasn't for the better; she used to be called Eywa's gift, rumoured to be the most beautiful of all the clans –or at least of the clans they knew–, but this was now far behind her. She was unbonded, refusing any na'vi that ever tried their luck. All except one, that was told to be a murderer, a coward; and so, what else could she be now other than a cursed witch? She defended him too much for too long – even now, she couldn't bear to hear ill-spoken words about him, even when no one saw or heard of him for decades and decades. Yet, even now, she had a place in his heart. Was it just because she was his childhood love? He still wanted to grab her heart, even if he'd probably do that just to crush it after.

“Aren't you curious where he is, what he's doing?” She froze, a tremble in her gestures as she resumed her action.

“Iweniur. Go away.”

There was a clear warning in her voice yet he couldn't stop now that she seemed so affected. He broke into a grin, tilting his head to try to catch a glimpse of her expression. Was she crying? Would she cry? He succeeded, once, in seeing her cry. But it was long ago, and he couldn't stop trying since then, some cruel obsession pushing him to do it.

“Maybe he has a mate, by now. Some kids running around...”

She was up on her feet in an instant, a knife poking his chest as she bared her teeth, rage and heartbreak evident in her eyes. It was satisfying. He liked seeing her suffer, she who once had the world at her feet. “Say one more word, I dare you.”

He knew she was capable of killing him. She wasn't close to her clan nor was she close to his, and she didn't fear death. What did she have to lose, anyways? A few clothes, some more decades of agony? The only reason she had yet to kill him was because somewhere, she had the hope that his brother would come back. She wanted to see him again, and so she lazily continued to live, every breath being a bit more difficult from the last, the old memories she cherished seeming a bit more like a dream she made up with every passing second. And even if she had no hope left, she wouldn't kill him; as horrible as he was, his features had some trace of him. They were so different yet when he smiled arrogantly she would see the mirage of his gentle smile, when he laughed or screamed or, annoyingly, breathed, she would see a bit of the one she had loved so much she could have forsaken Eywa. The one she would have burned the world with, for. The one she would have followed until the stars if he asked her, or to the deepest parts of the sea. For every time Iweniur was cruel, she would remember how kind he was. How great of an Olo'eyktan he would have been, humble yet fierce despite how young he was– how young they all were.

“I didn't mean to upset you, Räeya.”

A lie said with a smile. He ignored the blade cutting his skin and got closer, forcing her to take a step back. His fingers went to her cheek in a soft touch that made her sick, and she pushed on his shoulder so firmly that he stumbled backwards. He showed her his hands, calling a truce, but she wanted nothing more than to jump on him. She would one day slice his throat, she had promised it to the night a million times. But now wasn't the time, as always, and some light cuts on his chest would suffice.

—

“Räeya, my love,”

His voice was gentle as he tucked a thin braid behind her ear– she shivered when he came close, turned intently in his direction as if he was telling her the secret of the world.

And, really, he was.

His eyes were vibrant, freckles shining in the last bit of sunlight of the day. She couldn't look away from him, her hand placed where his heart was; it was a reflex, a habit, she couldn't believe he was real and feeling him under her palm was the most beautiful thing.

“I have something for you.”

He smiled at her and she mirrored it, a light tug at her lips as she watched him finally take his hand from behind his back. He held a gorgeous flower she recognized instantly, her breath catching in her throat.

“Säpom te Eywa?”

The forever glowing petals seemed to call for her as she carefully took it in her hands, touching hesitantly the fragile material. It was one of the flowers of a plant known to be in the middle of the highest cliffs, somewhere only the bravest or the stupidest young na'vi went. It had many medicinal properties but what truly separated it from the rest was how it was rumoured to be Eywa's kiss –which was what they had been named after. It was said that when the world was still young, two na'vis from different clans met during a hunt and as they met again and again, they fell in love. But the conflicts were numerous and war broke out between their clans, forcing them in an horrible fight. As they were searching for each other in the sea of corpses of their loved ones, the young boy found the girl taking her last breaths. Desperate, he took her to the cliffs and begged Eywa to save her, promising he would bring peace everywhere if she did. The Great-Mother took pity on them, two souls torn apart by the greed and hatred of their elders, and it was said She descended herself to kiss the forehead of the young girl. As She disappeared, flowers glowing like the Tree of Souls grew around the two lovers, forming an eternal mark of their love as what was injured became healthier than before, and it was said the boy did keep his promise, meeting with every clan to count his story and keeping peace for as long as they graced the ground, forever blessed by Eywa.

It was natural that young na'vis would try to get one of these flowers to give it to the one they wanted to bond with, but it was too dangerous and the ikran’s never wanted to get close to the cliffs where they grew, so few actually managed it. He was everything to her and she firmly believed he was the bravest and strongest of all men his age, but she still couldn't believe he gifted her one. It was stupid, she wanted to hit him, but instead she beamed at him, taking him closer as she kissed him softly.

“You like it?”

He was smiling against her lips and she would have usually hit his arm for being so cocky, but she could only melt when she hummed.

“I've never received anything as beautiful.”

—

But was she too happy? Maybe Eywa had been too good to her, she couldn't forever have skill, beauty and love, could she? She would have let go the second without another thought, she would even rather have lost the first, with a leg bitten off on a hunt or an eye pierced during a fight, but why would life let her choose? She lost what counted the most to her in the worst way possible. Or maybe it wasn't the worst, but as she cried for decades thinking of it, it had to at least be close to it.

—

They should be here already – she'd been waiting for two hours in the exact same spot, her eyes fixated on the sky. They always came back from just here because it was easier to arrive at the clan between these two rock columns; she could replay a hundred times the vision of it. When she wasn't part of expeditions, she was always here to greet him. She used to be scared of losing him when they were younger but she trusted him to always come back to her, no matter what; he was the best warrior of both their clans, after all –well, after her of course, she wouldn't go around saying she lost that title to him. Today especially, she wanted to show him something. They were soon to be Olo'eyktan and Tsahìk and the training took much of their time so, to escape it, they'd sneak out; it was mostly the evenings, and she found some place farther in the sea where a small isle was; they could stop here a bit, watching the sunset turn into the night sky. She also had so much to say; yet the excitement in her heart eventually died with the growing of something terrifying. The ones who had been waiting with her had long gone back to their usual tasks, some worried whispers reaching her ears.

They were not coming back. She simply knew it; it was a horrible feeling that was keeping her stuck in place, but it wouldn't anymore.

She was up in a second, a whistle leaving her lips as she jumped off the cliff where the clan was situated. Kxamtxon took her far, away from the familiar tents and away from the spot she had planned to go with him. Away from the surprise she had kept in a small box. She wasn't certain where to go, the riders having been sent on a spying operation. Maybe they had encountered the Sky People and followed them somewhere else? Maybe they had been found out, kept prisoners or maybe they were injured and had gone to the forests to hide. They were good fighters but weren't used to the forests. They were a lot less than she was, at least. The possibilities were endless but she couldn't search everywhere at once, so she'd go where they had been supposed to. And once she arrived closer to the Sky People's village –a swear under her breath at how horribly out of place the huge metal walls were at the limit between the forest and the plains–, Kxamtxon tensed, picking up something. She felt the agitation before seeing it.

“No. No!”

She descended so quickly she felt as if she fell, stumbling when she rushed to get down. Tsaheylu broke as she ran towards the first ikran, a red one with purple parts that she remembered seeing before. She almost uttered its name but couldn't bear to accept what it meant. Her fingers lightly grazed his face in soft caresses that he couldn't feel anymore before traveling to a bullet hole in his neck. Many others were on his body and she got up, finding na'vis and their companions alike in the same state. Two were missing limbs from what seemed to be an explosion but none had been breathing in hours, at least. A devastated guttural sound made her turn back to find Kxamtxon leaning over an ikran whose colors made her heart near stop. She was to her side in an instant, a horrible scream scraping her throat.

“Imonu, please. Please.”

Something was wrong with him. He was far from the others, as if he had been separated, but there were no signs of injuries. Only what probably was a mortal head injury, but this had to have happened when falling, given how he was placed, the side of his face right against a rock and the rest of his body twisted, as if he had tried to move to arrive safely. If he fell, where was his rider?

No blood, no corpse.

That was a start, but what if he had been crushed? As if sharing one mind, her ikran slowly rolled the body over, snarling as she did so. Räeya couldn't help wincing but she could breathe a little easier when they discovered nothing. She wanted to stop and mourn, kill every Sky People she could find –their base was close, it shouldn't be too hard– but she still had someone to find. Losing Imonu was like losing a family member but if she lost Ewayit, she'd never survive. She needed to find him quickly.

She couldn't find even bits of him on the battlefield but she eventually picked up a trace that led her away from the plains and to the forest. It was good and she didn't see blood so that meant he at least was healthy enough to apply heavy pressure on his potential injuries. He didn't seem to be dragging a limp leg either, but his walk was heavier than it normally is – this was enough to confirm that he wasn't in a good state, which she expected from the only survivor of such an unilateral massacre (she imagined some blood found there was of the Sky People but they were at least numerous enough to take back all the corpses with them). Her ikran wasn't going to help her and she wasn't going to ask her; they were both lost enough in grief to not put its heavy weight on the other. For now, they both had different objectives. Kxamtxon would watch over Imonu 's body, killing everyone that would try to approach it, and she would probably die if the Sky People found her to be an ally of their enemies.

Räeyayrkllew would search for as long as it would take to find her mate.

That was a promise she didn't keep.

She was in the forest for days that stretched into weeks, encountering three different clans that, while very wary of her, assured her they didn't see anyone new on their lands except for her. She didn't see any of her clan nor his and she promised to kill them all if they didn't even try to search for who was to be their future Olo'eyktan. She barely would rest, noticing she was going in a circle after the first few days; yet she couldn't stop. The traces led nowhere, losing themselves at the beginning of the woods before even letting her see which direction he took. With each passing second, he could be one step away from her and she didn't have any idea where to go. While he was the best fighter between them, she had always been the best stalker. She could find any lead and follow it forever yet she couldn't find him? It was like he simply disappeared. It was easy understanding what it meant, truly easy. Yet she refused to see it. Everytime the thought was coming back, she picked up the pace, trying harder to find anything that could turn this explanation into a pathetic thought she should be very ashamed of having. And she was ashamed.

Terrified.

But as she was going closer and closer to never finding him again, trying to follow traces that, if they once existed, had disappeared weeks ago, she couldn't bear lying to herself more.

He didn't want to be found.

It wasn't possible that, injured and lost, he went somewhere without leaving anything behind. He had moved like a shadow, and it was not to avoid the Sky People; they were horribly blind, even if he had walked trying to be obvious they wouldn't have noticed it. It was her, he hid from. And if it wasn't her, it was from other na'vis. Did he go to die alone somewhere, making sure she couldn't find him? Did her presence bother him so much as he didn't want to have her around in his last moments? She never felt as much pain as in that instant, screams and tears she had kept hidden in her closed heart for all her search suddenly being too much to bear; she only stopped when Kxamtxon found her, descending to nudge her up.

“Fnawe'tu.”

Coward.

“Kavuk.”

Betrayal.

“Tspangyu.”

Murderer.

She couldn't do anything but threaten those that spoke these words but, soon enough, the whispers of all accused him of it. He would have been their Olo'eyktan yet they had no respect; and, as his younger brother was pushing to be chief in his absence, she was growing more agitated. She should just kill them all, these traitors. They didn't even hide anymore to compliment the young man, saying things like he was born to be Olo'eyktan even in front of her. She almost cut the head of many men to the point that the whispers turned to her. Pathetic, abandoned, crazy. She didn't care about what they said of her except that she didn't want to bring shame to her mate when he would come back. But he left her alone with two clans that were against them so he would handle a bit of shame. The when never turned to if, she couldn't allow it. She never spoke of him but when she did it was in the present, as if he was coming back soon.

The months proved her wrong and when Iweniur became Olo'eyktan and officially asked –ordered– for her to be his Tsahìk, “It was promised” he had claimed, tension broke out.

“There are many women that are qualified – Meew'ui followed the Tsahìk training as well.”

The former Olo'eyktan wasn't in favor of her, not when she had been so obviously against it, but they all knew it was a lost conversation. He was the only one deciding it now, and he was pretty set on it; he had been trying to get close to her since the day she came back from searching his brother, insisting she was perfect to rule. Something about her personality and knowledge being what they needed –it made her sick hearing it so she never really listened.

“There's no one else that would fit.” He didn't even spare a glance to his father, an arrogant smile on his lips like he already won. She held his gaze without emotions affecting her posture. Somehow, she felt calm, like this was just another day. He chose his moment well; as his coronation was just the night before, both clans were still reunited. Many eyes were on her, whispers about how she was lucky, about how she finally would be brought back to reality, about how they would go well together filling her ears.

She hated them all.

Maybe it was because she had been promised to Ewayit so early, but she realized after his disappearance that she truly had no one. Her parents tried to be supportive but her father didn't understand anything. He thought this was the best opportunity, she could read it on his face as he stared at her from the crowd, somewhere behind the new Olo'eyktan. Her mother – she was imperturbable, like always. She could still hear her whispers about needing to get over her previous mate; but even as she said it, she always mentioned no matter what that she needed to make a choice. And a choice she was going to make, even if there was none. It was her nature, after all.

He smiled at her, wide and welcoming, and she hated everything about it. It was a big difference from Ewayit asking her shyly if she wanted to be her mate, even when they had been promised just that over a decade before. She had felt so giddy she had to run immediately to her mother and scream about it for hours. With Iweniur or with any other man, it would never be like that. It would never even be close to it. The feelings they could bring in her with a smile or a word or a touch – even if they tried for a million years, they'd still not come close.

“Räeya—”

“Don't call me that.”

A breath.

He blinked, “Excuse me?”

“You shouldn't wish for us to be mates. If we were, I'd slit your throat on the first night.”

The all-mighty Olo'eyktan being refused; it was funny, truly. She probably was the only one to think that, though. Horrified voices, everyone tensing in unison. His face dropped and he frowned; even if only for this expression, everything that would follow was worth it. No one even thought she might refuse. Her mother seemed like she had, though, still as neutral as before. More than anyone, she must have known what was going on in her daughter's head. It was unbelieveable to refuse an Olo'eyktan. Unheard of, for all of them. She thought it was stupid, it probably happened more than once somewhere, but no one talked about it. As if being Tsahìk was that good. She wasn't certain she would have even liked it. By her love's side of course she would have, but he was somewhere else now, leaving with parts of her soul.

Honestly it was surprising even to herself, that she refused. She had spent all her life loving her promised partner but she had always felt very responsible for her people. She was certain she would have done anything for them and she still thought she would. She'd die in the most painful way possible over and over for them – yet standing next to someone else than him, especially someone that she despised that much, it was impossible. She'd really kill him, and even if her refusal and clear threat could mean the end of the friendly relationship between both clans, it was still better than if she murdered him.

“You're refusing me?” He didn't sound upset, just sincerely shocked.

She snorted, annoyance obvious in her traits.

“This was promised! You can't!”

A voice makes her turn her head towards someone of his clan. It's without surprise that she recognizes one of the first ones to turn their back on them. She's certain that if she ever went crazy and killed all those that wronged them, they'll be close to the top of her list.

“What was promised was Ewayit Te Aynälo Ìroem'itan and I.”

She wasn't sure how she could speak so calmly. He was usually the one to be calm, she's never been good at this. Easily angered, easily excited. There was no more of the second as long as he wasn't here but today, the first wasn't present either.

It was odd.

She felt free, as if all these months she had only waited for this moment. It was the end of everything she knew –the clear end, one she controlled, unlike what happened with Ewayit–, yet she wasn't worried or scared. She'd be better exiled than she ever was in either village since she came back from searching for him that day.

“He ran away, though.”

The fact that he had the courage to say it in her face, in this instant, made her blood boil. Her gaze found him again, whispers of agreement going through the villages.

“Did he? He still won more battles than you ever will. It's funny seeing you compare yourself to him.”

She hadn't been exiled. It was good, yet she only felt more disgusted. She walked around her clan like a ghost, no one daring to acknowledge her. She often stayed close to his village, waiting for hours to end with her ikran, comforting each other in complete silence and light touches.

He'd come back one day, and she'd be damned if she wasn't here to scream at him. The simple thought of seeing him alive and breathing again was enough to make the years pass in a blink. Every day seemed endless as she thought of him every second of every hour; yet she couldn't believe that he disappeared so long ago. Maybe one day she'd stumble upon bones that used to be his, but she pushed that image far in the back of her mind.

She'd rather he just had grown tired of her, even if that hurt more than anything.