Ninth of twenty-five comment!fics for the Twelfth Round of the IJ Porn Battle and the second of three femmeslash comment!fics. One of two Avatar comment!fics.
A rather difficult 'pairing' to manage, as well . . . and explicit porn is a little difficult with a . . . being like Eywa, you know?
Grace knew when Jake carried her to the base of the Vitrautral that she would not be saved - she was far too injured for any human medicine to fix, at this point, and she doubted even Eywa could manage. She just wasn't strong enough to stay alive for as long as she would have to for anything to work. That was all right, though - she had seen, up close, the Vitrautral, and she had helped to save the Na'vi, and Jake - who she just knew needed to survive to drive the RDA off of Pandora forever.
She smiled up at Jake, trying to show him - to tell him - that she was all right with everything; that she wasn't afraid to die - if anything, she was merely disappointed to leave her work unfinished, to not know the conclusions, the answers, she had so sought.
Then he was laying her down, clad in her tangle of vines, and someone else - Norm, she thought - was laying her avatar beside her, its head inches from hers, and she was having even more trouble breathing. She looked up at the glowing branches, and suddenly she was untroubled, and the pain had disappeared.
She sighed, and her eyes fluttered shut, and then there was a burst of light. It could be compared to the sensation of a link-up, perhaps - if the light of a match could be compared to that of a bank of halogen lights the size of a Samson landing pad.
There was a warm voice welcoming her, and she knew that she was too weak to make that pass again - presumably she would have to have done so to return to her avatar for good.
It seemed as if it was only moments later that she heard Jake's voice again - he was speaking anxiously - she could feel even his own emotional turmoil - telling Eywa what he was afraid of, of the RDA's plans - asking Eywa for help, to look through Grace's own memories and see what they were capable of.
Grace added her own plea to his, just in case that might help - visions of what Pandora would look like if Quaritch had free rein over it, of how horrible it would be.
She felt that same warmth from before sweeping through her wordlessly and shivered - she didn't have a body, as such, any more, but she could still feel. She felt, distantly, when Jake stopped speaking; stopped his connection to them, but she didn't pay attention.
She had known that she could . . . speaking was somehow not the right term. She could . . . commune with Eywa - with every Na'vi that had ever lived, and then died, passing on to live with Eywa, in that eternal, timeless, formless . . . existence.
Many of her questions had been answered by those who had gone before - either their seemingly endless stores of knowledge or by their selves, the sense of their spirit - and a few had even been answered, in a sweet, almost motherly tone - always with that warmth suffusing it - by the voice, spirit, being that she knew must be Eywa herself.
This was the first time that she had felt Eywa - truly felt her, all through. She felt as though she would be shaking - not out of fear, or discomfort, but from the sheer intensity of it - if she still possessed a physical form.
Grace knew she was probably broadcasting her feelings - the ghost sensations - to anyone, any other spirits, nearby, but the shivery warmth and sheer pleasure induced by the touch subsumed everything else that made up Grace.
The way it - she - did so, though… It was so far from uncomfortable, or unsettling - it was amazing, indescribable.
Though there was still a tiny part of her, far back, under the layers of everything that was Grace, deep, deep down, that wanted - needed - to know . . . just what was this incredible sensation . . . how did it work?
Eywa laughed, warmly, and sent her waves of love, and warmth, and the amusement and fondness of a teacher delighted in her student.
The original prompt was 'Avatar, Eywa/Grace, curiosity'. Usually I avoid titling ficlets after the prompts that inspired them, but on this one? There just wasn't any other possible title.