Courtship
Shenshen sat on the edge of the dais, watching the celebrations from her customary spot just on the left of Ahdri. After over a century of courting each other as sometimes-lovemates, Jarrah and Ekuar had at last pledged themselves as lifemates, and both Wolfriders and Sun Folk celebrated their Joining Day.
The mousy farmer was transformed into a radiant beauty in a deep indigo gown of moth-fabric, her silver hair so often hidden under a cap now flowing loose down her back. Ekuar wore an elegant robe tailored much like the Sun-Toucher’s, his own trademark cap discarded for the evening to reveal his bald pate. Near the happy couple sat Swift and Rayek, beaming with pride at the new union. Shenshen chuckled. She had been at the Great Holt around the time Rayek realized his mother and foster-father were becoming more than friends, and his outrage had known no limits. For the strangest reason he had formed the idea that his mother had abandoned all desires of intimacy following his own birth. But now the chief hunter of the Wolfriders was all smiles – still a rather disconcerting sight to Sun Folk used to his brooding countenance.
She gazed at the elves seated around the dancing mats, and she realized for the first time that night how many couples there were. The visiting Wolfriders from the Great Holt were all paired off: Swift and Rayek; Sunstream and Quicksilver; Teru and Newstar; Dart and Kimo; Eyes High and Shale. And her friends from Sorrow’s End seemed to fall into neat couples as well, she noticed: Ahnshen and Vurdah; Wing and Behtia; Ahdri and Windkin; Maleen and Ruffel.
And then there was Leetah, her beautiful, vain sister, cuddled up to Scouter and Shushen.
Not too long before Leetah had danced in the center of the dancing mats, kicking her skirts high, twirling her veil overhead. And Shenshen had played the side-watcher cheerfully, clapping her hands. As always, Leetah outshone her sister.
Even as Newstar and Eyes High had smiled and clapped their hands in turn with the drums, Swift and Rayek had chuckled to each other and rolled their eyes at Leetah’s theatrics. Rayek caught Shenshen’s gaze and winked. And Shenshen had laughed. But she remembered all too well how Rayek had once been spellbound by Leetah.
Shenshen had returned to Sorrow’s End after many years in the New Land, homesick for her old friends and her family. But she now she had to resign herself to once again hiding in Leetah’s shadow.
When will it my turn, Leetah? Shenshen asked silently. What will make me shine brighter than you... even just once? When will I see my own light? When will I find my other half?
She had confessed her longing for a lifemate to Leetah only days before, and Leetah had laughed. “Why look for binding chains, dear sister? Let me tell you, now that the sting of losing Rayek to the Wolfrider has faded, I am quite grateful to be free of his constant demands.”
“But you and Scouter... and Shushen?”
“They are not mine. I do not own them, nor would I want to. My dear sister, you’ve been living too long with Wolfriders... they who share everything and nothing at once. Don’t be in too much of a rush to be devoured by love. Take pleasure for its own sake, and treasure it.”
Oh, Leetah, you could never understand, Shenshen thought now. You were terrified of Rayek’s possessive love, and when Swift freed you of it, you ran. You’re still running.
But she wanted something more. She was nearly six hundred years old now, closing in on the age Leetah had been when Swift upset her careful balancing act with Rayek. Easy, simple joinings with Rosh or Dahn in Sorrow’s End or Pike, Skot and Vaya in the New Land were pleasurable, to be certain. But as she saw more and more of her old friends lifemate, either through choice or the bonds of Recognition, she wondered what more she was missing.
But as long as she was trapped in her sister’s shadow, she was certain no one would take any real interest in her. She was sharing Shenshen, comfortable Shenshen, carefree Shenshen. No one thought of her as more than a obliging bedmate.
When? Shenshen thought miserably. When will I shine with my own light?
Shenshen was working on a beautiful needlework portrait of the setting sun at Sorrow’s End when she heard the jackwolves sound the alert – their yipping howls so slightly off-key from the clear melodies of the wolfpack at the Great Holt. Her ears were well attuned to the subtleties of howls. There was an intruder spotted on the perimeter of the village.
She nested her needle in the edge of her needlework and got up from her seat. Could it be humans, like the ones who had arrived years before, shortly before the Jackwolf Riders were founded? It could surely not be the Palace, for the jackwolves did not fear its arrival. Besides, the Palace always landed on the flat ground just beyond her hut. No, the alert came from the northern limits of the village.
She knew she had no place joining the Riders at the perimeter. But she could not resist. She thirsted for a little adventure after the tedium that had fallen over Sorrow’s End since Jarrah and Ekuar’s joining, three months past. She retrieved her little dagger from her hut and strapped it to her belt, then jogged to the outskirts of the village where the Jackwolf Riders were gathering. It was hard hike up the rock wall, then down to the plateau where the warriors waited.
“What is it?” she asked Grayling.
“There!” he pointed.
She squinted in the light of the waning afternoon. Was it a mirage? No – there was a figure crossing the rocky squatneedle fields, back straight and head held high, a broad sunhat shading his face.
“A human?”
“Too short,” Grayling said. “And the smell is wrong. It smells... almost elfin.”
**Your sense of smell isn't too reliable these days,** Wing teased.
“It is an elf,” Windkin said. “Look at his limbs.”
“But not quite an elfin scent,” Scouter growled. “We must be on guard.”
A voice drifted over the rocks. “Halllooo!” And the figure raised his arm high in a friendly wave. “Would you be Sorrow’s End, then?”
Grayling and Scouter reined in the nervous jackwolves as the newcomer joined them on the plateau. He stood a hair taller than Grayling, which put him a good half a head taller than Shenshen. And he was nearly as broad of shoulder as he was tall, the well-defined muscles of his chest straining against the snug fit of the long apron-like open-sided tunic he wore. His face was broad as well, with sharply defined cheekbones, a large blunt nose, and a strong chin. Fluffy whiskers on his cheekbones suggested face-fur and wolf-blood, yet he was clearly no Wolfrider. His hair under his sunhat was a disordered mop, white as Skywise’s. His eyes were small for an elf’s, a pale sky blue. Over his shoulder he carried a leather sack, which he would not let the Riders touch, no matter how diplomatically Windkin and Grayling offered to relieve him of the burden.
“Who are you?” Scouter asked.
“I’d ask you the same,” the elf countered with an amiable smile. “So, shall we do the introductions now, or shall you take me to the Mother of Memory first?”
Scouter’s hand clenched the hilt of his short-sword. “Who are you?” he demanded again. “How do you know our Mother of Memory?”
“My name is Brightmetal,” the traveller said calmly. “Now do you want me to tell you my entire story now, and then repeat it again, or should we go see the Mother of Memory and exchange proper introductions?” His gaze drifted to Shenshen and he smiled softly. Shenshen stared back in wonder.
Brightmetal... she knew that name. It was what the Wolfriders and trolls called that shiny silver metal, stronger than the poor iron of the desert mountains. But it seemed to her that she had once heard of an elf by that name. She couldn’t remember now. Memory was always somewhat fleeting to her.
Scouter warily guarded the newcomer as they climbed down the hill to the village. Now others were gathering, and they all gasped at the sight of the traveller. Not since the Wolfriders’ first appearance in Sorrow’s End had any elf simply walked into the village.
Leetah, Sun-Toucher and Ahdri were waiting for them at Savah’s house, having been summoned by the cries of jackwolves and the flurry of sendings from the Riders. Leetah’s eyes drifted over the newcomer’s impressive frame, and she veiled her eyes in lashes as she murmured, “Shade and sweet water to you,traveller.” Shenshen was not surprised.
They entered Savah’s hut, just as the Mother of Memory was rising from the steps that led to her private chambers. Brightmetal’s mouth hung slightly agape at the sight of the graceful elf, and the heavy sack slipped from his shoulder. “Welcome, child,” Savah smiled.
Brightmetal strode forward purposefully, and Scouter almost moved to block him, fearing an attack. Instead he gave Savah a deep bow.
“Hail, Mother of Memory,” he said.
Savah’s eyes lit up. “You know of me, traveller?”
“Only by the praise of others.”
“Then I am at a disadvantage, young wanderer, for I know not your face, nor your tribe.”
He gave her another bow, more modest. “I am Brightmetal, come from Blue Mountain. I bring–”
“Blue Mountain?” Scouter hissed. Even Grayling tensed at the mention of that haunted place. Shenshen, Leetah and Ahdri, who knew only a scattering of tales, looked about the room for guidance.
“Yes,” Brightmetal replied matter-of-factly. “I bring you greetings from my father, the Lord of Blue Mountain.”
“Your father? Who is your father?” Scouter demanded.
“Why, Two-Edge, the Master Smith. And my mother is Lady Aroree, Mistress of Blue Mountain.” He turned back to Savah. “My mother wished me to offer you a gift, from one Mistress to another, for though she had never met you, she has heard of your kindness and wisdom from many friends.” He set the sack on the ground and carefully opened it. He took out a little parcel wrapped in cloth, and unwrapped it to reveal a statue of a giant bird.
“One of our great hawks,” he exclaimed, proffering the gift. Savah smiled graciously and accepted it.
“You must thank your mother for me, child, for I too have heard praise of Aroree, once a Chosen Eight of that Loveless One, now mistress of her own soul.”
“You’re Two-Edge’s son?” Scouter challenged.
Brightmetal looked over his shoulder. “Didn’t I say that?”
“You’re a troll?”
“A troll?” Leetah exclaimed in horror.
“One-quarter troll,” Brightmetal replied. “Is there a problem?”
“No problem,” Windkin gave Scouter an elbow in the ribs. “It’s just that a few of us have had poor dealings with your grandmother.”
“And your father,” Scouter added. “I haven’t forgotten who ensnared the Wolfriders in the Palace War!”
Brightmetal blinked once, deliberately.
“You are welcome here, Brightmetal,” Savah interjected gently. “Allow me to introduce you to my fellow hosts.” She gestured to Grayling. “Grayling, Chief of the Jackwolf Riders, and brother to Swift, Chieftess of the–”
“Wolfriders,” Brightmetal finished for her. “I didn’t know Swift had a brother. Or maybe I did but forgot about it.”
Savah smiled. “And this is Scouter, one of Grayling’s brave Riders, a Wolfrider born and raised. And Windkin, son of your kin Tyldak.” Brightmetal’s eyes lit up at the mention of the Glider, and he gave Windkin a modest bow of the head.
“Ahdri, the Daughter of Memory,” Savah continued, “and the rockshaper of our village. The Sun-Toucher, my dear friend and my voice to the Sun Folk when I am immersed in the memories of the past or the visions of the present. And his daughters: Leetah the Healer, and Shenshen.”
Brightmetal gave the sisters respectful bows of the head. It seemed his gaze held Shenshen’s for a moment. Shenshen felt her cheeks grow heated. She did not know why; it was hardly the first time a handsome elf had gazed lingeringly at her. Yet there was an intensity in his eyes that gave her pause, and caused her heart to beat in a faster tempo.
Savah spoke, breaking the spell that had seemed to seize Shenshen. “Leetah, Shenshen will you see to a fitting reception tonight? It is short notice, I know, but it is a rare occasion we have to celebrate.”
“Of course, Mother of Memory,” Leetah said.
“Of course,” Shenshen echoed. She hesitated, her eyes fixed on Brightmetal, but Leetah’s urgent tug on her hand snapped back her to the present.
For a spur of the moment affair, the celebration was a fine one. The lighted lanterns were strung over the dancing mats, while the musicians played sweet tunes and the children of Sorrow’s End passed fresh fruit around to everyone. Brightmetal had politely declined a seat by Savah’s, and instead sat off to the side, the better to watch the festivities without active participation.
Shenshen realized he was sitting almost exactly where Swift and the Wolfriders had sat years ago when they first arrived, and she chuckled. Some things never changed.
And then she realized that as before, she sat alone with no companion save the occasional sot who wanted to pass out in her lap after indulging in squatneedle cider.
Three maidens were dancing in the center of the ring, all fluttering veils and golden jewelry. And then Leetah joined them, arrayed in folds of pink moth fabric that seemed ready to fall from her shoulders and hips at any moment. Shenshen drained another cup of cider, feeling increasingly bitter. Leetah slowly danced in front of Brightmetal, then skipped over towards the seated Jackwolf Riders as the tempo increased, and the moth fabric veils fell lower about her breasts and her hips. She spun and kicked, and it seemed only the motions of her arms and legs kept the artfully draped veils from scattering to the ground.
Shenshen got up to refill her cup. She did not bother to look if Brightmetal was watching Leetah. She took it for granted that he was.
The music ended, and Leetah gracefully exited the circle, carefully redraping her gown about her shoulders. Shenshen sat back down and gulped down her cider, feeling quite muzzy-headed and very annoyed with her sister. Leetah was the most beautiful maiden in Sorrow’s End. Everyone knew it. Even Brightmetal knew it by now. Why did Leetah have to keep reminding them all? Why couldn’t she go and hide and give another a chance to shine?
She looked up. Brightmetal was looking at her.
Shenshen smiled nervously. Brightmetal smiled back.
“Hello, sister,” Leetah announced as she sat herself down next to Shenshen, and Shenshen’s smile faltered. Of course Brightmetal hadn’t been looking at her. Who longed for the moons when the sun was in ascendence?
“He’s watching you,” Shenshen said.
“Who?”
“You know who. Brightmetal.”
Leetah smiled. “Ah, Brightmetal. He is a strange one, isn’t he?”
“You know, I saw him once before. When he was a baby, Two-Edge and Aroree stayed at the Great Holt for about a month or two. I only caught a glimpse or two of him – Two-Edge and Aroree always kept him to themselves. Strange... I remembered his name, but I couldn’t place it until he introduced himself to Savah.”
“A troll-elf...” Leetah mused. “Like the Wolfriders with their wolf-essence.”
“You sounded quite shocked when you heard.”
“Well... Scouter always feeds me tales of the horrible trolls who nearly killed his father, and who killed Windkin’s grandfather, Treestump. A joining of elf and troll – barbarous. But diluted two generations and the troll blood lends him a certain... appeal, wouldn’t you say, sister?”
“Scouter wouldn’t like it.”
“Wouldn’t like what?”
“Where your thoughts are leading you.”
Leetah laughed lightly. “Oh, I’m not saying I desire joining with him. But if I did... well, Scouter does not own me, does he? I need not ask his permission to look afar when he and Shushen can’t seem to see beyond each other.”
Shenshen said nothing. Irked, Leetah got up and padded off to the outskirts of the celebration. Shenshen looked at Brightmetal. Once again he seemed to be looking at her, and Shenshen wondered if she had been mistaken before. But then Brightmetal’s gaze shifted to the retreating Leetah, and he got up from his place. Shenshen sighed miserably. Why had she expected otherwise?
Leetah heard the heavy footfalls of Brightmetal behind her and she was not surprised overmuch when he caught up with her. She had not imagined he would be so forward, but then perhaps trolls acted on instinct, even quarter-trolls.
“Healer. Leetah.”
“Yes?” she turned.
Brightmetal was wringing his hands. Great calloused hands, yet capable of cradling a delicate golden cup, Leetah thought with a slight frisson.
“I know I hardly know you... but I must ask you something. Something... better left for two who know each other better.”
“Do not be nervous,” Leetah said gently. “We are all friends in Sorrow’s End. What is it?”
“Your sister, Shenshen.”
Leetah’s face fell.
“She’s not spoken for, is she?”
Leetah blinked. “What?”
“Spoken for. Does she have a mate? Or is she free to be courted?”
Leetah stared at him in disbelief for a moment. Then she blew an exasperated breath out between tight lips. “Why must matings and joining always be a matter of bindings or freedoms? We are all free, Brightmetal, until we say otherwise! You want to court her, ask her yourself!”
“What sort of gifts would she like? How can I best please her?”
Leetah blinked again, baffled. “Just show up at her door, like as not!”
Brightmetal frowned as Leetah strode off. “Well... I thank you,” he called to her receding form.
Shenshen awoke the next morning to the jangling of her windchimes. She moaned as she rolled over in bed. The wind must be howling.
She sat up, her head aching. Too much cider, she decided. At least there were no other bodies in her bed. She always hated the mornings she awoke with lovemates she couldn’t remember inviting home.
She wrapped a sheet about her body and staggered towards the doorway, intent on taking down the chimes. Strange, the door-curtain was not rustling, though in such a wind it ought to be.
She pushed the heavy cloth aside and looked out. Brightmetal stood outside, one hand tucked behind his back, the other delicately tugging at the windchimes’ beaded cord.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Were you still sleeping? I... I didn’t know how to announce myself – I... is that what these are for?”
“No,” Shenshen sighed, reaching out and steadying the windchimes. “You could have just knocked on the doorframe.”
“I... I don’t know your customs.”
“That’s all right, no harm done,” Shenshen massaged her aching temples. “What is it, Brightmetal? What do you want?” Her tone was harsher than she had intended, but the sunlight was hurting her head.
Brightmetal brought his other hand out from behind his back. Shenshen stared dumbfounded at the lush bouquet of wildflowers he now held out.
“For you,” Brightmetal said. He cleared his throat. “I... um... I, Brightmetal, son of Two-Edge, Lord of Blue Mountain, am hereby declaring my desire and intention to court you.”
“Court me?” Shenshen blinked.
“Do you accept the offer of my suit?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Do I have your permission to court you?”
“You don’t need my permission.”
Brightmetal grinned. He proffered flowers again and Shenshen took them. She smiled at the sweet scent. “So... I... I’ve never been courted before. We... we seldom actively ‘court’ here in Sorrow’s End. Unless of course there are two suitors fighting over one maiden. We... we usually just... share.”
“Share? You can’t... share your mates.”
“Of course you can,” Shenshen said cheerfully. Inwardly though, she wondered why it always had to be that way.
“It’s... cheap,” he scowled now. “Mates should be valued at a higher coin.”
Shenshen was confused now. He said “mates” with such conviction, it suggested something more than a simple lovemating.
“Will you come inside? I... here, let me go change into something.”
Brightmetal followed Shenshen inside. He sat down in a chair while Shenshen slipped behind a curtain to dress. Her hair was limp from a long night of revelry, but she fluffed it as best she could. Brightmetal was still uncertainly waiting in the chair when she returned.
“So... what now?” she asked lamely. “I mean... how does one court another?”
Brightmetal stood. He cleared his throat. “I present you with gifts to show my love for you, and demonstrate my ability to care for you and your family. And we get to know each other better. And when – if – I prove myself worthy you, you will accept the fullness of my suit...” he blushed a little. “And we will be wed.”
“Wed?”
“Bound as mates.”
Shenshen’s eyes widened. “You mean lifemated?”
“Of course.”
Shenshen almost stumbled on the carpet. “We... we just met yesterday and you want to be lifemates?”
“Well, not today, of course.”
“Can... can we not be... lovemates first?”
His brow darkened. “As false as fool’s gold, pleasure traded for poor coin? I honour you too much to ever suggest such a thing!”
She stared at him helplessly, as it slowly dawned on her that he was serious. “Must...” she bit her lip. “Must pleasure be traded for coin? Can we not simply... trade pleasure for pleasure’s sake?”
He scoffed. “Joining without commitment has no more meaning than a night spent at the bottom of a mead mug. The pursuit of drunkards and paupers. I – I am the son of the Lord of Blue Mountain. I can offer you the riches of the Gliders and the trolls.”
Shenshen paced now. This was no elaborate game he was playing: he truly wanted her to be his lifemate. “I... I... but...” she spun her hands wildly in the air. “Why me? You just met me yesterday! Lifemating... is... for life!” she stammered needlessly. “How can you just... see me and decide you want me for life? We’re not Recognized!”
“Recognition!” he laughed. “Makes a muddle of everything, my father says.”
“How old are you?”Shenshen asked.
Brightmetal drew himself tall. “Nine-eights and some.”
“You’re just a child!”
Brightmetal flinched. “I can provide for a family, I assure you.”
“I don’t mean that. I mean you’ve only begun to live your life. You have so much to discover. Why... why would you want to lifemate to... to one of the first maidens you meet?”
She was harsher than she had meant to be. Yet Brightmetal only smiled. “Why would I want to keep looking when I’ve already found the maiden for me?”
An eight-of-days passed since Brightmetal’s arrival in Sorrow’s End. Then another eight-of-days. Nothing Shenshen said could dissuade him from his goal. He arrived faithfully at her door every morning, each day with another gift. Sometimes it was a simple bouquet of wildflowers. Other times he came bearing an intricately sculpted piece of sandstone, or a puzzle made of gold wires.
He came sometimes asking for her permission to escort her on walks. At first he insisted on a chaperone – a family member to protect Shenshen’s honour. Shenshen laughed, thinking of unwilling Leetah or giggling Toorah walking three paces behind them. Shenshen convinced him at length that none was needed.
“Among trolls, a maiden must always be accompanied by a guardian, so that the suitor does not take advantage of her.”
“No one takes advantage of me, Brightmetal. I need no guardian.”
At length he seemed content. “Well.. you’ve had mates before. That would make you an unmated mistress... one who had left her mate and set up her own household. You’re right. You don’t need a guardian.”
“Why do you look at everything through troll’s eyes?” she asked him one day as they went on their customary walk. “You’re three-quarters elf.”
“In matters of the heart, trolls are superior,” he said, satisfaction in his voice. “My father taught me that.”
“It sounds so complicated, so many rules and customs. Don’t you long for the simplicity of the elfin way?”
“What, rutting with anyone like animals in the forest? That might work for beasts, but we are civilized creatures.”
She supposed she ought to take offense at that, yet she only laughed lightly. He ought to spend time with Coppersky; the two would find they had much in common. “And... how did you learn all these... customs of the trolls? I thought it was just you and your parents in Blue Mountain?”
“Oh, there are lots of old tunnels leading north. Father uses them to spy on the mountain trolls. I used to go with him to learn about my troll heritage.”
As the days passed, Shenshen slowly learned about her new suitor. In many ways he was a child, completely innocent of the world outside Blue Mountain. He had a child’s view of life – everything clear cut, painted either one colour or another. And yet there was such a clever turn to his phrases, and such sophistication in his work. When he wasn’t actively courting her, he was at Hansha’s forge, teaching the metalworker and his assistants how to create intricate working parts. One day he surprised her with a little figurine carved of wood that seemed to dance over a wooden base when wound with a metal key. He took great delight in opening up the base of the statue and showing her how the many wheels made the figure dance.
It was a perfect carving of her, complete with topknots.
“Why me?” she asked him one evening as they sat watching the sunset. “Out of all the maidens in the village, why me? I’m not the prettiest. I’m not the smartest. I’m... ordinary.”
“No one’s ever showed you your true value,” he murmured.
“We don’t think of it like that,” she said glumly.
“Of course you do. You’ve been taught to value yourself at a lower coin than others. Taught by everyone who overlooks you for others... for your sister. You’ve lived your life in her shadow. And you try to pretend you’re happy. But deep down, you know you’re worth more.”
Shenshen caught her breath. How could someone who seemed so willfully blind to the ways of elves be so perceptive where it mattered?
“I... I am happy. I’m the midwife of Sorrow’s End. I’m loved and respected here. If not, I would simply go back to the Great Holt. I lived there for many years, you know. I’m very happy here, with my family.”
“You’re lonely. You’re in a crowd of elves, and you’re alone.”
She bristled. “I have many friends. Anyway, you haven’t answered my question!”
He touched her cheek shyly. “You’re... artless.”
She stiffened again. “Is that supposed to cheer me?”
“Yes. Oh, Shen, yes, of course. All the other elves... oh, your sister and Maleen and Ruffel and Dalla – they all clothe themselves in pretense. They know their value well, and they peg it high over their heads! All masks and pretense! Like the coarsest troll mistress – working her way through mate after mate, setting her price higher each time.” He snorted. “But you... you don’t make yourself into something you’re not. You don’t play games. You’re just... you. And your beauty shines though all the more because of that.”
He inclined his face to one side, and kissed her softly. Shenshen sighed softly and leaned into his chest, hungry for more. But he always withdrew before the embrace grew too heated. It was not proper for those unmated, he insisted.
She was convinced his modesty was just another means of frustrating her.
What she would not give to forget about “honour” and “propriety” and finally lose herself in his strong arms...
“You’re not really thinking of being his lifemate, are you?” Leetah asked. “You hardly know him. And I must say, I don’t care for these troll ways he’s always championing. Sounds like he’s trying to buy you with his gold and trickets.”
“He says it’s to prove he can provide for me.”
“You’re not a child! You lived in the wilds with the Wolfriders for years. Tell him can provide for yourself without his help!”
“It’s not like that, Leetah.”
“What will happen when he thinks he’s bought and paid for your affections? What then? What if you decide enough is enough, but he’s decided you owe him payment in kind? I tell you, it smells of Rayek. He too felt he had a right to own me.”
“Why do you fear lifemating, sister?” Shenshen asked. “Why are you terrified of being possessed.”
“Possessed! I am no one’s possession!” she snapped hotly. “And you’re a fool if you think that... halfling thinks of you as anything but that!”
“What... what if we decide to become lifemates... and then, some time later, we decide we’ve made a mistake?” Shenshen asked.
“Why would we ever think that?”
“I don’t know, Brightmetal! Maybe... maybe – well... I mean, you talk about troll maidens – mistresses I should say – who leave their mates. But lifemating is... at least among elves, it means forever. That’s why we take our time deciding on a mate.”
“Unless Recognition’s involved.”
“Well... that’s different.”
“Why?”
“Because... well, because it is. It's more than just a call to reproduce. It's... a binding of souls and minds. It's... well, it's something you can't understand until it happens to you. At least, that's what my mother says.”
“I don’t like it. I hope I never Recognize. You should always be free to choose.”
“But don’t all choices end once you are lifemates?” Momentarily she thought of Leetah’s words and wondered if her sister was not right to fear such commitment. “Lifemates... belong to each other, don’t they? And... with trolls... you say that a maiden’s love is as true as the gold you give her. Once she accepts that gold... can she still say no later... or is she... as much a possession as any of that gold?”
Brightmetal blinked at her. Then he threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, Shenshen, you’ve got it all backwards. A maiden isn’t a piece of property to be bought. She is a treasure that must be cared for. If ever her mate does not fulfill his vows to provide for her, she can leave him for another who promises to treat her better. Or she can take all the courtship gifts he has given her and set up her own household as her own mistress.”
Shenshen brightened. But Leetah’s warnings still rang in her ears, and she asked. “And... what if her mate decides he has bought her love and tries to stop her from leaving?”
Again he laughed. “Well, then she’d have her brothers and father settle him.”
Fleetingly, the image of gentle Sun-Toucher trying to “settle” Brightmetal ran through Shenshen’s mind.
“You see,” he continued. “A truly well-born troll must always make sure his mate is satisfied.”
“But... but how can love thrive in a mating where the threat of one leaving always hangs overhead?”
“How can love thrive under Recognition, when some fever in your blood forces you to stay together? No, love thrives when two mates stay wed because they choose to.”
Shenshen chuckled under her breath. He and Leetah would truly be well matched in some respects. She sighed a little sadly. “How... practical. Strange, love never struck me as practical.”
“It’s not all practical,” he murmured, and kissed her suddenly.
He walked her back to her hut as he did every evening. “Won’t you come in?” Shenshen asked. “It must be so... lonely in the wolf caves.”
“I like the rock,” he shrugged.
“I’d be glad for your company,” she held his hand lingeringly.
He flashed her a grin. “‘No maiden shall ye spoil ere ye first be her lawful chattel.’”
“And where does that come from?”
“The Codes of King Frostbane.” He stepped back from the threshold of her hut. “So until you accept my suit...”
“You’re doing this to drive me mad!”
He grinned. “Goodnight, maiden.” He dropped a kiss to the palm of her hand and turned away, leaving Shenshen flushed with frustrated desire, her heart pounding against her breastbone.
“It’s no secret what you see in him,” Ruffel grinned, and gave Shenshen a nudge in her ribs.
“It’s more than that,” Shenshen smiled softly. “He’s not the first well put-together elf I’ve seen. Granted... he’s... um... built much more solidly than most elves I’ve seen...” she giggled, and Ruffel laughed with her.
“But it’s more than that,” she repeated. “It’s... I’ve always been... very confident with my lovemates. Very... comfortable. Ver-ry satisfied.”
“Of course,” Ruffel dismissed. “What is lovemating without pleasure?”
“And with Brightmetal... it’s different. He makes me... uncomfortable. Off-guard. But it’s...” she shivered. “It’s a good kind of discomfort. Flutters in my stomach. I’ve... never really felt that before.”
“I’ve heard this song before.” Ruffel poked her shoulder. “Vurdah sang the same tune for moons after she Recognized Ahnshen.You’re smitten, aren’t you?”
“He’s...” Shenshen unconsciously licked her lips, “fascinating.”
“Mmm, I’m sure.”
“I’m not saying I’m just going to be his little troll-mate,” she said defensively. “Because I’m not.” But then a slow smile overtook her face. “Still... it’s a pleasant thought.”
“I’ve never seen Shenshen so happy,” Toorah remarked as she bit a stray thread off her needlework.
“He’s talking about returning to Blue Mountain,” Leetah grumbled as she looked out the window of her parent’s hut. Brightmetal and Shenshen were walking along the rocks outside the jackwolf caves. “I only hope Shenshen won’t let him turn her head.”
“She might well go with him,” Toorah said.
“Across the Burning Waste – through the old troll caverns that almost claimed the Wolfriders’ lives all those years ago. No. It was one thing for her to go off to the New Land with the entire tribe. But it’s another to wander about the world with only a troll halfling as her companion.”
“Don’t fear for your sister, Leetah,” Sun-Toucher came in out of the sun. “She will choose wisely.”
“It’s not safe out there,” Leetah murmured under her breath.
“Life with the Wolfriders has given Shenshen a taste of the bittersweet nectar of risk,” Sun-Toucher touched her shoulder. “With Brightmetal... I think she may well drain the cup.”
Shenshen balanced along the old stone wall that bordered the outermost farm plot. “How long do you imagine it’ll take to get to Blue Mountain?”
“It took me three months, but I took the long way through the forests. I think I could cut nearly a month off the trip back by taken the southern route,” Brightmetal replied. “The harder part is getting across the desert. After that, the troll tunnels left behind by old King Greymung will get me through the mountains and into the heart of the woods.”
“Doesn’t sound very safe.”
“No less safe than any of the work we do at Blue Mountain – opening up all the old chambers underneath the mountain base. But... it would be good to have an adopted Wolfrider along... help me with woodslore.”
“Oh, I know nothing about the forests here – I’m sure they’re very different from those in the New Land.”
“Shenshen...”
“Must I give you an answer now?”
“I thought... you’d like to see my home. And I could show you what... what kind of a life I could offer you.”
Shenshen held her arms out to balance. “I... I don’t know,” she said, her voice betrayed her inner turmoil. No, she would love to go to Blue Mountain with him, to call him her lifemate, to play at being a troll mistress. But she remembered well how he had praised her for never playing at games of love like the other maidens at Sorrow’s End. No, she could not deceive him, promise him her heart while planning to escape later.
“What if we make a mistake, calling ourselves lifemates too soon?” she asked again. “You never gave me a straight answer before.”
“Why would it be a mistake?”
“It’s all well and good to be besotted in courtship! But as soon as we try to live together, set up a household like you say. Maybe I won’t be able to stand you! Maybe you won’t be able to stand me!”
Brightmetal glanced up at her skeptically.
“I snore!” Shenshen insisted. “Pike said I snore like a bull in rut!”
He shrugged. “I don’t mind.”
“What if I miss life in Sorrow’s End?”
“We’ll come visit.”
“What if I don’t get along with Two-Edge?”
“Why wouldn’t you?”
“What if you grow tired of me?”
Brightmetal stopped in his stride. He looked up at her earnestly. “That will not happen.”
“How do you know? How can you be so cursed sure?”
“Because I love you.”
Shenshen’s eyes widened. He had often spoken of love, true – love beyond the simple day-to-day love of tribemates and lovemates – but he had never actually said those words to her.
“You wouldn’t believe it of me before – do you believe me now?”
Shenshen slowly nodded.
“And do you love me, Shenshen?”
“I... I... care for you, I long for you... I...” tears stung her eyes and she cursed herself for her weakness. “I’d cry the day you leave – what – what is love – a lifemate’s love, I mean? When does the affection of lovemates – or hopeful lovemates – become more? Is... is it family-love? Is it good-friend love? Is it a more painful lovemate-love? What... what will I feel that will tell me to tell you ‘yes?’ Oh, Brightmetal, I don’t want to hurt you – I don’t want to give you a promise I can’t keep. But... oh... I want you.”
Brightmetal held out his arms to her. She hopped down from the wall and he caught her up in his arms as if she weighed no more than a feather.
“Come with me to Blue Mountain,” he begged.
“I will,” she murmured, suddenly beyond worry.
He walked her back to her hut. Once again she tried to lead him inside. Once again he hesitated at the threshold.
“We are not yet wed,” he insisted.
“Must we always go by troll customs?” she held onto his hand coyly. “If we are to be mates... you must honour the elfin ways too.”
Brightmetal flushed deeply, and he averted his eyes modestly. “I... Shen... I haven’t...”
She smiled. “I know.”
She took another step back inside her hut. Brightmetal lingered still in the doorway.
“Please?” she gazed up at him tenderly. “A cold wind’s blowing tonight.”
Brightmetal smiled hesitantly. Shenshen leaned into him and kissed him softly on the lips. She felt Brightmetal tense briefly, still uncertain. Then his arms came up around her and his mouth pressed fast against hers.
The Sun Folk had saddled a zwoot with enough provisions to take Brightmetal and Shenshen safely across the desert. Leetah wept as she embraced her sister farewell. “Oh, dear sister. I thought you had come home for good. This goes against the very purpose of the village!”
“I’ll be fine, Leetah,” Shenshen said. “This is hardly the first time I’ve ventured into the unknown.”
“You’re a fool,” Leetah said brusquely, as she wiped her tears. “But...” her demeanor melted again, “oh, I’ll miss you, sweet sister. If that troll ever mistreats you – ever! – I swear I’ll turn my healing magic into daggers–”
“I’ll be fine,” Shenshen repeated. She hugged Leetah again. “But I’ll let him know you said so,” she teased.
“You do that!”
Shenshen turned to say farewell to her parents, then gathered her bag of supplies and joined Brightmetal at the zwoot. The sun was just dropping below the western mountains as Brightmetal offered Shenshen a boost up into the saddle. A final wave to the villagers, and they set out across the desert.
“I’m going to miss this place,” she sighed as Sorrow’s End receded into the twilight behind them.
“We’ll be back,” Brightmetal assured her.
“There’s enough room for you up here too, you know.”
“No, I – I wouldn’t want to torture the poor thing. It’s carrying enough already.”
“Well, then, you have to let me walk later on so you can rest.”
“Not on your life! What decent troll would let his mate walk when a beast can carry her?”
“I’m not your lifemate yet, you know,” she added, lest he assume too much from their new sleeping arrangements.
“Oh yes, you are. You just don’t know it yet.”
She screwed up her face at his chipper tone. For a moment she was tempted to throw one of their breadfruits at him.
Then she wondered if he was right.
She smiled softly at the thought.
Elfquest copyright 2014 Warp Graphics, Inc. Elfquest, its logos, characters, situations, all related indicia, and their distinctive likenesses are trademarks of Warp Graphics, Inc. All rights reserved. Some dialogue taken from Elfquest comics. All such dialogue copyright 2014 Warp Graphics, Inc. All rights reserved. Alternaverse characters and insanity copyright 2014 Jane Senese and Erin Roberts