Your husband took his wife and, now, you’re going to pay the price.

Simple as that.

You hadn’t loved your husband, much in life, let alone in death. Your father practically sold you off tYour husband took his wife and, now, you’re going to pay the price.

Simple as that.

You hadn’t loved your husband, much in life, let alone in death. Your father practically sold you off to him, washed his hands of you after you rebelled one too many times for his liking. Plus, it was advantageous for high ranking official of the RDA to shack his pretty daughter up with one of his best fighters. Good for morale. Not so good for you.

Your husband, Leo, was a brute. Talked rough, acted rough. Spat when he spoke, broke dishes if you over salted the potatoes. The fact that he was devoted to the destruction of a race of giant blue aliens wasn’t too much of a surprise to you. What did come as a surprise, however, was being kidnapped by one of said aliens and being kept in a cave by him.

“He killed my Neytiri,” the creature said, in a row, oddly American accent, and you trembled at the sound of his voice. His yellow eyes were low as they bound your legs and hands. You cried many tears that day. “My kids.”

You shook, uncontrollably in his grasp. Your teenage confidence was surely snuffed out by every time Leo raised his voice, his hands to you. Maybe, once, you might’ve fought back. But the new you was quieter, softer, wounded by the weight of your own unworthiness. You wouldn’t had the gall to fight off another woman, let alone something of your captor’s size and strength. A Na’avi, you remembered, was the correct term.

You whimpered, like a dying animal, and it only tightened his grip on you. You wondered if he would eat you. Make it slow, make you suffer, or put you out of your misery. There was such rage in his eyes. The distinct kind, born of heartbreak only a woman could fill a man with.

“You didn’t have any kids with him,” the creature continued on, conversationally. You didn’t dare interrupt. “So I can’t do anything to them. But I have you, don’t I?”

He stopped, stared, paused and looked so deeply into you—you felt you would faint from the intensity of it. And then your vision began to blur from all the tears and you didn’t have to look at him so hard anymore.

“A wife for a wife.” He concluded, having finished restraining you and you begged with all the grief in the world—not that it mattered to him.

And so, you’re married again.

Your husband’s name is Jake. You don’t know much about him, only that he was born human but became Na’avi, somehow, along the way. He had a wife, kids, a family—until your prick husband took them all out. He likes things done quickly and if you dawdle to much, he’s happy to put you in time out, like a child. His sweet tooth is reserved for the strange purple fruits of Pandora, though you prefer the yellow ones. He has a habit of tilting his head and it gives you feeling that he was a cocky, brazen thing growing up—like you used to be. He has another habit of touching over his legs, his knees, absently…like he can’t quite believe they’re real.

All little things you’ve noticed about him. He’s not particularly loving. You don’t expect for him to be. After all, you’re just a stand in for the woman he loves. The mother of his children. He spends most of his time ignoring you, bullying you or screwing you. It’s a fairly even split. You try to keep your head down for most of it, except for the screwing, because he makes it downright impossible then.

“You’re doing better,” he comments lightly, over campfire, though nothing in his gaze is complimentary. “You’re learning.”

Your face heats up, a little, at his words. His eyes eat you. His voice stirs something in your chest that you don’t understand. Anger. Indignation. Shame. Desire.

“Thank you, Jake.” You murmur, just as obediently as you did with Leo.

He stares at you, for a moment, like he recognises your fear—but says nothing. He doesn’t care enough to console you. You’re not Neytiri.

“I want,” you lie and he knows it. “To make you happy.”