Neytiri's Firsts
The Na'vi absolutely have sex. It isn't taboo, it isn't hidden — it's simply part of life. But Neytiri, specifically? She was raised as the Tsahìk's daughter, and promised from a young age to Tsu'tey: her father's greatest warrior, the future of the clan. Her preparation for mating was sacred and structural — the act, the bond, the lifelong vow. Duty. Lineage. The continuation and protection of a people.
And Tsu'tey, for all his honor, was in love with Sylwanin. Whatever future had been laid out for him and Neytiri would have been correct. Respectful. Cold in the corners. Neither of them was ever going to kneel for the other and call it devotion.
So when Jake kisses his way down her stomach the first time — when his mouth finds her between her thighs — she is genuinely stunned. She had assumed she understood where this was leading. She did not. Her thoughts scatter the moment his tongue moves against her, and her whole body forgets how to be a body. She makes a sound she has never made in her life.
The first time he coaxes her up over his face, she does not know what to do with her hands. They hover above him. They grip nothing. He holds her hips and drags her down onto his mouth like he is starving for her, and she shakes apart above him with her thighs trembling around his head.
And then — because she is who she is, because she learns by doing — she bridges the gap. She slides her hands down his body, watches his face the entire time, and takes him into her mouth with the same focused devotion she gives to every sacred thing. She figures out what makes him groan. She figures out what makes his hand fly to the back of her head. She commits.
He chose her. She chose him. And every soft, filthy, reverent thing they do to each other is a quiet rebellion against the marriage she was raised for.
He does not stand a chance.
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