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Sickness rarely rolls through the Na'vi population, but when it does it's hardly ever something a dapophet pod can't cure. This strange illness though, So'lek can't even begin to decipher.
"Ma Tamtey… I am not sure that I am best suited to take care of you through this sickness. It would be best for you to be seen by a tsahìk."
Tamtey sniffles where they lay on So'lek's reflection mat, curled up pathetically with their tail tucked between their thighs. They mumble incoherently in lieu of a reply. So'lek hates to see them like this and crouches down beside them, running a hand over a feverish cheek. "Please ma yawntu… I cannot cure what ails you. The dapophet stalk is run dry, and I would have to leave to get more… You know I cannot leave you like this. I will call for Etuwa… or perhaps Priya…"
"So'lek… I'm fine. It's just a cold…" Tamtey blinks blearily up at him, their usually clear round eyes muddled and crusty with sickness. They swipe at their nose, and So'lek frowns.
"A 'cold'." He scoffs. "You are Na'vi, not human. This could be serious." His tail flicks anxiously behind him, ears twitching back with irritation. He cards a hand through Tamtey's hair, humming as their purr turns crackly and brittle.
"Just… lay with me? Rutxe?" So'lek's heart churns in his chest at the pitiful plea, and he sighs, laying down beside them and pulling them onto his chest. Tamtey hums happily, nuzzling their face into the crook of his neck and curling their tail around his thigh. Their soft breaths soothe the warrior despite his worry. He settles in, letting his head fall to their crown, placing a kiss just above the base of their kuru. His arms wrap securely around their waist, feeling their warmth and holding on for dear life.
Distantly, as Tamtey drifts into sleep, he can't forget the fear of losing them too- especially not to something as preventable as illness.
–
So'lek gets no rest that eclipse, his sleep fretful and shallow. Tamtey continues to rise in temperature, sweating even in the cool night air. So'lek presses a palm to their forehead and frowns as their expression crinkles in distaste. They've rolled away from him too, running from his heat no doubt.
"Ma Tamtey? Tamtey!" So'lek rolls them over, shaking their shoulders in a desperate attempt to wake them, visions of flames and smoke and wicked cackles pulsing through his brain. He rubs the sting of ash away from his eyes and finds tears instead, grits his teeth, and picks Tamtey up. He calls for Ìley, climbing onto his back as he rushes out the mouth of his cliff-side home.
Finding the Aranahe hometree is easy as always, but the weight of Tamtey's body in his arms makes it difficult to focus on steering. The landing on the ikran roost is clumsy, and So'lek all but spills off Ìley's back. There's a crowd around them almost immediately, a chorus of questions and concern. So'lek waves them away. "Where is Etuwa? She is who I need to see." The crowd mumbles, uncertian, but a familiar voice quiets them with a simple command, parting them like water.
"So'lek. What is this?" The tsahìk's gaze lands on Tamtey and she rushes forward, cupping the unconscious Sarentu's face in her palms. A bead of sweat rolls down Tamtey's forehead, and they groan in their feverish sleep. "Ewya strengthen me. We need to treat them right away." So'lek reluctantly relents Tamtey to Etuwa's care, following after them into the healing circle like a lost viperwolf pup.
"What is wrong? They have been feverish for much time now. Not even dapophets have been helping." So'lek eyes Tamtey wearily as they're laid on a bed of soft linens and clover.
"No… They would not…" Etuwa doesn't say much as she works, pulling herbs off shelves and mixing them into a poultice. "Come. Help them drink. We must reduce their fever right away."
So'lek does as he's told, gingerly propping the Sarentu up on his bent knee and prying their jaw open. It does not take much effort which only causes the warrior more worry. "Etuwa… tell me… will they recover from this?"
Etuwa doesn't respond, only pours the strange mixture down Tamtey's throat, coaxing them into swallowing with a deft hand. Shortly after, the sweat on Tamtey's skin starts to cool and their eyes blink open.
"So'lek…"
"I am here, ma yawntu. I am here." So'lek presses his nose into their damp hair, breathing in the scent of herbs and illness, but no less relieved to hear them speak. "You are okay. I am here."
Weak hands grasp his forearms, tugging him closer. He cannot move much with them resting on his thigh, but still his arms envelope them into a gentle hug. Etuwa watches silently with an achy sort of happiness, before gently brushing So'lek away.
"Move ma 'eylan. Let me see them." Etuwa works diligently and quickly, pushing fluids and another poultice into Tamtey's mouth and nodding in satisfaction as they swallow- although with some difficulty. Then she smears another mixture along Tamtey's forehead and throat, and the Sarentu sighs with relief. So'lek looks to Etuwa quizzically.
"Soothing balm. It will help reduce the effects of the fever." She brushes a careful hand along Tamtey's hairline, carding her fingers through the messy braids. "You will recover. It is good you came to me when you did. Now rest, Sarentu. Recover your strength."
Tamtey weakly nods before relaxing back into So'lek's arms. Etuwa leaves, giving the pair privacy. Placing a kiss to Tamtey's forehead, So'lek rearranges them so that Tamtey is resting their head on his chest as he leans against the sturdy walls of hometree. So'lek busies himself with undoing and redoing Tamtey's braids while they hum their Sarentu song lightly to themself. The moment is quiet and serene, although So'lek can feel his mate's still labored breathing as they slowly recover thanks to Etuwa's herbs. Still, a slow recovery is still recovery. So'lek is grateful.
"I'm sorry I didn't listen to you, ma So'lek." Tamtey whispers after a beat of prolonged silence. So'lek can't find it in himself to comfort them on this. Not for this.
"I am sorry too. You must take better care of yourself. You are a strong, capable warrior, but sickness is not RDA. You are not immune, you cannot fight it alone." Tamtey sighs and So'lek holds them ever closer, burying his face in the crook of their neck. "Oel ngati kameie, ma Tamtey. Nga lu yawne oeru."
Tamtey smiles softly, leaning their head back on So'lek's shoulder to meet his gaze. Their face is less sickly pale but the purplish-red tones of rubbed-raw skin that sickness always brings is still present. The herbs plastered on their skin smell fresh and clean, and their smile is bright and genuine. So'lek's heart warms. "I love you too, ma So'lek. Oel ngati kameie."
"Your pronunciation is still rigid. We will work on it when you are feeling better." So'lek says with a stoic frown, but his blush betrays him.
Tamtey rears back an elbow into his stomach. "I can't believe you! Still so stern even when I'm sick! Rudee." They stick their tongue out at him, and So'lek can't help but meet them in a kiss. They push him back with a wheezy laugh, mostly towards his pout. "So'lek! I'm sick!"
"You are… medicated. It is fine." Tamtey rolls their eyes, but acquieses, nuzzling closer as So'lek tilts their chin up to meet his lips. They taste of mint and other herbs he cannot name, but underneath that they taste like Tamtey. Beautiful, magnetic, fierce Tamtey. His Sarentu; his mate. They will heal… and So'lek will not let them face it alone.