【 CHAPTER FIFTEEN 】

THE lights within the link pod swayed over the cot in which Grace lied in, forcing shadows to shift to and frow as the Samson carried them to the safety of the flux vortex where the they would be untraceable. In the two link units, Norm and Jake currently remained in sessions. Norm was somewhere above them on top of the pod, monitoring the flight, while Jake was who knows where working to fulfill the plan he'd come up with but hadn't shared.

Ruth administered another round of morphine into Grace's arm from where she sat at the side of the cot, discarding the syringe before turning back to the weak woman.

"Everything's gonna be alright," Ruth promised her as she pulled the blankets wrapped around Grace over her more securely. Blood loss tended to cause the victim to become especially susceptible to hypothermia, so Ruth remained diligent in keeping her warm.

Grace smirked weakly as if her current condition wasn't much to be bothered about. "Is my avatar safe?" she asked. Ruth couldn't help but chuckle her concerns despite the life slowly leeching away from her currently. She was so pale. Ruth tried her best to ignore it. They would get to the clan soon. everything would be fine. At least that's what she told herself.

"Yeah, Norm linked in and moved you into the cockpit of the Samson before we took off. Don't worry."

Grace nodded, pleased enough. The two sat in the sound of Samson's loud humming outside of the pod as it carried them. Ruth looked toward the window, where the very beginnings of the morning were starting to show in the oncoming sunrise.

Ruth shuffled through what medical supplies they had available when Grace cleared her throat, drawing her attention.

"Since I'm likely going to die, I wanted to tell you how proud I am of you," Grace murmured weakly. When Ruth frowned as if to retort the small truth, she went on. "You face adversity like it's a head cold. And somehow always come out fighting no matter how hard the world wants to beat you down."

Ruth chuckled, adjusting herself on the crate she'd been sitting on. "One's ability to deal with adversity is pretty important when living on this moon," she replied. She tilted her head. "Life on earth wasn't much better. I've only ever done what I had to do."

Grace smirked. "And does facing adversity on Pandora include falling for Tsu'tey?"

Ruth rolled her eyes. "As you just said, you're 'likely going to die'. Why are you worried about that right now?"

"I wouldn't say I'm worried about it," Grace replied with a weak laugh. "The more that I've thought about it, it makes sense. It most definitely blindsided me, considering your constitution to run off anyone that pursued you in Hell's Gate."

"I mean, you're right. But how does it make sense?" Ruth asked. She was genuinely curious. As well did she wish to carry on their conversation, to at least keep her mentor lucid and conscious after the blood loss.

Grace tugged her lips to the side as if drawing upon a mental list. "This was something you wanted. To be within the clan again. The opportunity to be taught opened a door for you. Made you more receptive to the world, I think." She coughed, the movement visibly painful for her as she winced. "Someone showed you the gentleness and acceptance for everything you were. He doesn't want to change you. Make you into something you aren't."

Like Quaritch wanted to do. Make her his wife, arm candy to be carried at the arm at Hell's Gate. If she had ever entertained the idea of being with him, he would have dampened out her fire. Turned her into a shell of herself. The Colonel didn't want a fiery wife. He wanted something pleasing to the eye he could control.

"I guess that's true," Ruth said, sighing. "Tsu'tey believed in me when I couldn't believe in myself. He introduced me to everything the clan had to offer as if I weren't human. He took me as I was and asked nothing more."

Grace smirked, seemingly pleased to hear that realization had finally set in for Ruth.

"I didn't think falling for someone could happen so quickly. I thought that kind of thing took longer. More months, maybe even years." Ruth shrugged. "Y'know, like the stuff you see in movies."

Yet Ruth had fallen for him in the mere three months he taught her. As she began to meld into the person she didn't know she could become. No longer was she a woman of words she was never truly able to back up; she could follow through with her threats.

"I only ever warned you of the complications it would pose to protect you," Grace murmured. "I didn't want you falling too hard for someone that was promised to another. To impede on what had already been decided within the clan. But considering Jake chose to blatantly ignore those..." They both chuckled a little. "Tsu'tey is no longer bound to Neytiri. And he is the Olo'eyktan now. I suppose there is nothing else stopping you."

Ruth felt a little more hope sinking in upon the realization. But then was reminded of everything that had just occurred. The tree. Their tumultuous escape. The fact Grace lied in front of her, dying.

"He ignored me when Jake and I had been bound," Ruth pointed out, recalling the way he'd forced himself to follow the orders of Eytukan despite the conflict that had been swimming in his gaze for her.

"I understand," Grace murmured. "But if he loves you as I have seen he does, I think that this all can be mended. Especially if Jake's plan works. Whatever it is." She drew in a deep breath as if to gather more strength to remain conscious. Alive. Ruth reached forward to look under the blanket, her heart skipping at the sight of how much blood had managed to seep into the pressure wrap. "I don't think he will shun you. You didn't have a part in what Jake was wrapped up in. He told the clan that himself."

Ruth lowered the blanket over Grace once more, shrugging. "I suppose we will see once I wake up. If they did in fact bring my body with them. If not, we've got an entirely different issue to deal with."

She put the back of her hand against Grace's forehead, feeling her temperature. She was burning up, yet felt so cold. Not a good sign.

"Had I had children in my younger days, I would've wanted them to turn out like you, Carson," Grace said softly. It tugged at Ruth's heartstrings. "In just the three years you've been here, I've seen you flourish into a remarkable woman."

Ruth smiled, silver lining her eyes. "If we're admitting deep dark secrets now, you have always been like the mother I never had."

Grace, despite being weak, seemed touched by the sentiment. "Ah shucks, you're making me feel all warm and gooey inside."

Ruth chuckled. "Let's get you into your avatar for good, and you can tell me how great I am for the rest of our days."

She reached a pinky out as if to force Grace to promise she'd survive the night. Weakly, the older woman managed to reach her hand out and her own with Ruth's.

"Is that a promise or a threat?" Grace smirked.

Ruth rolled her eyes, smiling. "I'm quite ruthless, y'know. I'd say take it as a threat."

RUTH'S yellow eyes fluttered open to late morning light, heavy as if she'd woken from a deep sleep. She drew in a raspy breath, her lungs feeling as if she inhaled too much smoke, as her eyes focused on the glowing pink tendrils above. They floated on a phantom wind, ethereal.

Quicker than she could gain her bearings, a presence was at her side. It was Neytiri, all manner of worry on her features as her tail thrashed behind her. "Ruth?" she said, her hand cupping her cheek as the avatar forced herself upright, her arms behind her. She'd been lying on a bed of moss.

"Neytiri," she murmured, her eyes beginning to look around. When she realized where they were, she looked back to the tree she'd woken up under. They were at the Tree of Souls. Her scientific tendencies perked, but there were more pressing matters to focus on.

Mo'at soon was at her side, checking her over like a mother hen. "Are you safe?" the elder woman asked, referring to her human body.

Ruth nodded. "I am safe. But Grace is not." At the mention of Grace, Mo'at and Neytiri wore expressions of worry. "She's gravely wounded, Neytiri. Grace is dying."

"Bring her here," Mo'at ordered, her eyes flashing with fear. "We will try to save her if Eywa wills it."

Ruth frowned, ears pinning back at the realization Grace may still very well die despite their efforts to save her, but her eyes caught sight of Tsu'tey as he made his way over.

Her heart fluttered. He waited for her where he stood, an invitation. Rising to her feet, Mo'at and Neytiri parted to allow her room to pass them. The two women left them to speak as they drew closer to one another.

He now wore an unfamiliar ornamented chest piece of reds and browns that was expertly woven, pieces of bone and horn situated in a display befit of the clan leader alone. He stood taller and more stoic, as if his new position changed him since the moment Eytukan perished. He was now Olo'eyktan, after all. He had much more weight to bear on his shoulders, responsibility to guide the clan toward rebuilding. His features were unreadable at first, but his extended hand told her enough.

They fell into an embrace, Ruth immediately feeling the urge to sob. So much had happened within the last forty-eight hours, so much devastation. She hadn't been sure he would have anything to do with her after the tree fell, that their cultivated relationship had gone up in flames along with the clan's former home. But here he was, holding her. Standing steadfast for her when she felt like her world was crumbling around her. They pulled apart, eyes meeting.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, tears threatening to spill onto her cheeks. Her throat ate as she fought back emotion. "For everything. I wished I had known. I would have done everything to stop it."

He shook his head, his gaze softening as he cupped her cheeks. Looked upon her with with what she believed might be forgiveness. "Do not apologize. You are here now, and you are safe." He pulled her into another embrace, his hand cupping the back of her head. "By the grace of Eywa, you have not been separated from me, ma Ruth."

Her heart fluttered at that. Ma Ruth. Such a particular and meaningful term. That was perhaps a conversation for later.

"Grace, she's dying," she told him, biting her lip as she pulled back once more. "I need to tell Norm to bring her. Can they land here?" She asked, referring to the Samson landing within the perimeter of the tree where the clan was milling about, grieving. It was the only option they had. Norm couldn't carry both Grace and her avatar and Jake was off fulfilling his plan.

Tsu'tey seemed to hesitate momentarily, before nodding. Ruth nodded in appreciation, before looking to the short cliffs that surrounded the hollow the Tree of Souls resided in. Ikran perched there, seemingly their new rookery until the clan eventually found a new place to call home.

"I will be back," she said despite not wanting to leave his side. He nodded, planting a gentle kiss on her forehead that felt electric against her skin.

"Be safe," he bid her, as if he didn't her to leave either.

Forcing herself to leave his side, she made her way through the sea of people and toward the cliffside. She prayed Denver was there, had escaped destruction.

Reaching the edge of the sea of people, she chirped, signaling for her mount is she was there. There were so many ikran that she would never be able to pick her mount from the beasts that clung to the cliffside. Thankfully, their bond helped her ikran know her voice, her scent. Her worry smoothed over once she caught sight of Denver peeling from the other ikran, flapping her way over.

The vermillion and wine patterned ikran landed dutifully in front of Ruth, emitting a chirp of what she assumed was relief to see her rider safe. The animal rubbed her head into Ruth affectionately, her golden eyes dilating at she looked at her.

They made tsaheylu, the ikran shivering at the connection. Through their connection, Denver showed her the memories of when the tree had fallen; when she desperately searched the carnage for Ruth before ultimately following after the other ikran of the clan. All while relaying the fear the animal had felt at not being able to find her. The bond between Mount and Rider was incredible.

"I worried for you as well," Ruth murmured, running a hand along her leathery head, the ikran seemingly purring at the touch. She felt some semblance of relief to see her mount had survived and was well. "But we've gotta go. We have to get Grace here."

Denver lowered herself, her wings open to reveal a path for Ruth to mount. She did, swinging on and into the saddle. As quickly as she was seated, they were in the air.

RUTH and Denver swooped into the hollow of the Tree of Souls with the Samson in tow, aiming for the clearing where the clan had made space. The aircraft landed, the clan throwing weary and fearful looks its way, but Trudy was ready to take off as soon as they were cleared. Around them, the clan readied themselves for the ceremony that was soon to take place. Ruth wasn't entirely sure how this would all work, but she left Denver to make her way to the aircraft to retrieve Grace nonetheless.

With Grace's human self cradled in her arms, barely a burden on her avatar's strength, Ruth carried her mentor toward the tree where Mo'at waited. Norm followed close behind, carrying her avatar. Trudy soon had the Samson making its way out of the enclave, the wind and noise no longer impeding on the serene place.

"Hey, Grace. Look at where we're at," Ruth murmured, looking down at her as she walked.

Grace weakly craned her neck, the reflection of the tree's glowing tendrils moving along the surface of her mask. Ruth could see the look of awe in her eyes, albeit she was dangerously weak now. Still, her brown eyes shown. Ruth didn't want to admit to herself that she didn't think Grace would survive. Not when they still had one last chance.

"I need to take some samples," Grace uttered with a genuine desire to study, which drew a smile on Ruth's lips as they neared the Tsahik and Olo'eyktan. She was dying but still expressed her appreciation for the moon.

Ruth and Tsu'tey shared a momentary look before she gently placed Grace's small body on the moss-covered roots, the ground glowing at the pressure of her touch. She'd looked to him as if he could give her the strength to get through the ceremony. For the uncertainty that clung to the air like a thick smoke.

As Grace's two bodies now lay at the base of the tree, head to head, Ruth stepped back to allow the Tsahik to get to work. Fibrous glowing tendrils had begun to reach out toward both of the bodies, connecting her to the seemingly conscious tree.

"Eywa may choose to save what is within this body," the elder woman gestured toward Grace's body as she now hovered of it. "Within this one." She looked down to Grace, cupping the side of her human head with her comparatively larger hand in an endearing manner. Her eyes met the avatars again. "But Ruth, she is very weak."

Ruth nodded solemnly, stepping further back to join Tsu'tey where he kneeled on his knees like the rest of the clan. His queue was connected to the roots below, contributing to the glowing heartbeat that pulsed toward the tree as if the clan was begging with its very life essence to save Grace. Norm took his place at Ruth's other side, offering a sad smile before pulling his own queue forward to connect.

Pulling her braid to her side, she allowed her own tendrils to connected to the roots, to the connection that she prayed would convince Eywa to save her. As Ruth's mind made the instantaneous connection, she drew in a sharp breath. She felt everything. Felt the minds of the entire clan that gathered, felt Tsu'tey's own connection at her side, felt Norm. Grace was there as well, two versions of her seeming to hover in uncertainty, in a strange limbo.

Mo'at assumed a chanting in Na'vi, which seemed to fall into a steady tempo with the pulsing of the tree, of the spiritual connections that were coaxing Grace closer to life. The clan followed in the chants, a chorus of voices settling over the enclave.

Ruth fell into the chant, murmuring the words, her eyes never leaving the spot where Grace lay. Tsu'tey's hand slid into hers, his palm and touch a welcoming comfort. They did not look to each other as they continued to hope, to prey. That Eywa chose to save her. That they had enough time.

Hope was a lost cause once the pulsing of the tree began to fade into nothing, the tendrils connecting to Ruth going dark. Mo'at, noticing, halted the chanting.

Ruth broke from her position at Tsu'tey's side, running to Grace. She dropped to her knees just as the human woman began to pull from the fibrous tendrils, her hand was pulled into Ruth's. Neytiri, Norm, and Tsu'tey joined Ruth around Grace, the Olo'eyktan's hand resting on her shoulder in comfort.

"I'm with her, Ruth," Grace breathed, as if she was between two worlds. Her brown eyes seemed to look into the tendrils above as if that's where she was going. "I'm with Eywa, she's real."

Ruth's ears pinned back, brow furrowing. "Grace, stay with me," she said urgently. Her tail lashed behind her. "Stay with me, Grace. Grace?"

The heartbeat of the tree faded entirely into nothing, only the light of the tendrils remaining. With it, numbness settled over Ruth as head lowered in defeat. She reached forward to pull away the mask from Grace's face, her head lolling to the side. She was gone.