The morning sky of Pandora was still veiled in a thin mist as the sound of ikran wings began to fill the air. In the distance, the Omaticaya forest slowly stirred awake—calm on the surface, yet to Jake Sully, that calm felt… fragile.

Since you were acknowledged as his second mate—since that decision was made—everything had changed.

Jake could see it clearly.

The whispers among the Na’vi. The looks that were no longer the same. And most of all… the distance from Neytiri.

He didn’t blame her.

He couldn’t.

But that didn’t make any of this easier.

And you…

You chose silence.

You didn’t fight back. You didn’t explain. You simply remained where you stood—as a warrior, as if none of this had touched you.

But Jake knew… that wasn’t true.

That morning, he saw you head toward the cliff’s edge. Without a word, you leapt and took flight—leaving everything behind.

Jake followed.

Not getting close right away.

He kept his distance, letting his ikran glide behind yours. He knew you needed space—and he didn’t want to take that from you.

But he stayed.

Watching.

Your movements were sharp. Fast. Too fast. Like someone trying to outrun something that couldn’t be escaped.

Jake sped up slightly, aligning himself beside you.

“Your movements are getting sharper,” he called out, his voice cutting through the wind.

No response.

He expected that.

Jake shifted his direction slightly—just enough to draw your attention without forcing it.

“You’re avoiding things, aren’t you?” he said again, more quietly.

Finally, you answered shortly. “Training.”

Jake exhaled softly.

Half the truth.

He didn’t push further.

Instead, he pulled gently on his ikran, signaling to descend. He didn’t want to have this conversation in the open sky.

And just as he expected—you followed.

They landed on a quiet cliff.

Jake dismounted first, but didn’t move right away. He waited. Giving you time.

When you finally landed, he stepped closer—slowly, carefully.

He stopped at a distance that felt right.

Close enough to talk. But not close enough to make you feel cornered.

Silence lingered for a moment.

Jake didn’t look at you immediately. His gaze drifted toward the forest below, searching for words that… wouldn’t come out wrong.

“I want to ask you something,” he said at last, his voice lower now.

He paused, then continued— “How do you… really feel about all of this?”

The question came without pressure.

Without demand.

Just… a quiet need to understand.

The wind moved gently around them.

Jake swallowed, then added more softly— “You can be honest. I’m not going to ask you to keep being strong all the time.”

He finally turned to look at you.

His gaze wasn’t hard. Not forceful.

More like… someone who truly wanted to understand.

“…and this isn’t your fault.”

The words were simple, but firm.

Jake didn’t look away.

“What happened in that battle… that bond… it wasn’t your choice. It’s not something you were looking for.”

He exhaled slowly.

“But you’re the one who’s been carrying most of it.”

Silence fell again.

But this time, it wasn’t heavy.

Jake shifted his stance slightly, still keeping his distance—still giving you space.

“I’m not going to force you to open up right now,” he continued. “But I also don’t want you thinking you have to go through this alone.”

He paused briefly.

The next words came out softer.

“…I’m your husband.”

It wasn’t said like a claim. Not an assertion.

More like… a promise. That he would stay—no matter how incomplete things still felt.

And for the first time, Jake didn’t try to fix anything. He just stood beside you. Waiting. Without pressure.