BLUE EYES: Chapter 13
A/N: Okay, I know I've just reset the word limit for each chapter to 1,700 words, but this one turned out to be even longer after edits and revisions. I think I'm just going to be a little liberal about length from this point on, for as long as each chapter is under 2,000 words. I don't think you'd mind. ;-)
Summary: An unexpected guest with an expected news disturbs an otherwise quiet night. Oliver deals with issues regarding his new wife.
They arrived before sunset, with just enough time for Oliver to gather food and get fresh water to drink from the spring. Felicity busied herself with unloading their supplies. By the time Oliver got back, he carried everything up to the treehouse one batch at a time, just as she had sorted them. Though she was certain she could help out, she wisely decided that carrying them while climbing a rope ladder wasn't such a good idea. She imagined herself falling headlong to the ground, resulting to her untimely demise; the idea that she had survived an attack by tribal warriors, death by burning and then by a venomous snake burning just to fall off a rope ladder by accident did not sit well with her.
At dusk, Oliver started a fire down below and called her to eat with him. He boiled some kamote and prepared the fresh herbs he had gathered to make something that Felicity thought resembled a kind of salad, using the fermented cane vinegar and some sugar. Felicity wasn't very fond of salads and vegetables since her childhood, but with the way that Oliver had prepared what he called pansit-pansitan, not only was she able to eat it, she also asked him to make it again in the coming days.
Just as they were ready to go up to the treehouse and retire for the night after a long day's journey, they were disagreeably greeted by an unexpected visitor.
"Asintado."
"Wandatu."
Felicity turned around upon hearing Oliver utter a name that she vaguely recalls from her unpleasant experience at the Kinanyao village gate.
"I come to see you at Father's request," Wandatu spoke in fluent Kinanyao. Wandatu shifted his gaze from his half-brother to the blonde woman that he had married by privileged claim. It was a good thing that the shadows cast by the faint glow from the embers of the fire were partially concealing the loathsome look in the fierce warrior's eyes; otherwise, it would have sent a cold chill down Felicity's spine.
"I see your new wife is adjusting well to life in the jungle," Wandatu sneered at the pair. "Are those your trousers she's wearing, brother? Why don't you let her try what our women wear? I think you will be more pleased," he scoffed at them.
Oliver did not let his mockery continue. He stepped in front of Felicity, partly shielding her from Wandatu's scornful stare. He spoke firmly in Kinanyao, "Hold your tongue, brother. Tell me Father's message, and then go. I will not have you mocking my wife."
Wandatu directed his ire at brother. "Protective, aren't you, Asintado? I'm sure when you get to know the woman more, you'll find that she is just as treacherous and vile as every other foreigner our tribe has ever known."
"Does that insult include me? White man's blood runs through my veins, but I am also your brother by right. We have saved each other's lives in battle more than once. Do not throw all that away because of hatred. My wife and I had nothing to do with the plague that took the lives of your wife and unborn child." Oliver reasoned with Wandatu despite his growing displeasure of his brother's presence.
"I did not come to argue, nor do I have to justify why my hatred for the white race burns," Wnadatu responded austerely. "Father wanted me to remind you that he expects you to be back at the village the day before the full moon. The fale that you and your bride will be living in is being prepared."
From the tone of his voice, Oliver could sense that his brother was every bit as disdainful at the thought of him bringing his wife to live with him in the village again.
Wandatu spoke further in derision, "I must say, I am relieved that your hut shall be far from mine. I don't think I can forebear a daily reminder of the mockery you have made of the memory of my beloved Mempe when you chose that woman's life over the family and tribe that raised you."
Raised me? How dare his half-brother accuse him of ingratitude? Oliver thought it rather odd and ridiculous that his brother's perspective of his life was so partial as to blind him from the fact that theirs was the same family and tribe that orphaned him fifteen years ago. Oliver did not hate the Kinanyao, especially his father the Chief. But the more he interacted with foreigners, and ever since he met Felicity, an affinity for his race of origin has begun to grow within him.
Irked by Wandatu's insults and accusation, Oliver replied, "Tell our father, the noble Chief Muidatu, that I have received his message. Tell him that we will be in the village before full moon. Now go, before my anger burns against you and I forget that we are brothers."
Wandatu walked away, departing without so much as a customary farewell.
"Who was that?" Felicity asked Oliver. Something about his conversation with the Kinanyao warrior had obviously affected him.
"Wandatu, my brother," Oliver replied solemnly.
"Brother?" Felicity was puzzled.
"Wandatu is son of Chief Muidatu by blood."
"Oh."
"What did he want? And why did he seem so angry?" she asked curiously.
Her question reminded him about his father's message. The house in the village. He realized he had not yet told Felicity about it, and he heaved a sigh.
"It's not good, is it?" Felicity meant to ask, but her words came out as an anxious statement.
Oliver's mind recalled the last thing his father had told him after he and the priestess had hastily performed the wedding ceremony three days ago. Felicity had been too preoccupied with figuring out what had just happened to notice the brief exchange between him and his father.
"My son," Chief Muidatu had said, "it would please me, as your father and as Chief, if you would come back and live among us in the village now that you have been reinstated as a warrior and the chief's favored son. The elders of our clan will expect it, and so will the leaders of the other clans. Your presence in the village strengthens your claim to the right to become Chief one day." Chief Muidatu had paused and smiled, and then added, "Settling in a more permanent dwelling is better for when your wife starts to bear your offspring. A treehouse in the jungle is no place to raise children, and I can foresee that the gods will favor you with many."
Oliver suddenly felt conflicted. It wasn't just about leaving the solitude of the treehouse that had been his home for more than three years and coming to live with the Kinanyao once again. His mind focused on one and only one thing at the moment – children. Everyone in the clan – not just his father – will expect at least one son, an heir that will bear the right of the firstborn and carry on Chief Muidatu's family line and right to rule.
Thoughts of having children swirled in his mind as he stood frozen on the spot. How on earth was he supposed to have children when he and Felicity have not even had intimate relations with each other? He certainly thought more honorably of her than to pressure her into having one, just for the sake of proving his virility and producing an offspring. While some of the men of the tribe were known to do so, there was no question in his mind: he was not going to do that to her. He resolved that he was patiently going to wait for his wife to be ready, to be willing.
But for how long was he going to wait? As is the custom among the Kinanyao, a man's bride had but two harvests to conceive, and then the husband was bound by tradition and allowed by tribal law to find himself a second wife with whom to produce offspring. The husband is obliged to continue to support the barren wife, and he most certainly can continue having sexual relations with her, but she loses the exclusive right to be chosen as the favored wife, whose son eventually becomes the rightful heir of her husband.
What if Felicity didn't conceive by second harvest simply because he hadn't been able to win her heart? What if she never became ready and willing to give him of herself, body and soul? Oliver felt his chest constrict and his heart wrench inside him at the thought. Perhaps he had been wrong to choose her spontaneously to be his wife just to save her life from the flames. But no. The thought of her dying had become excruciatingly painful and vehemently disagreeable to him now as he reconsidered. He had only spent three days with this amazing woman, but it felt to him like they had a deeply spiritual connection, a bond that held the key to unlock the secrets of the past and their life's purpose.
"Wandatu brings news," Oliver finally spoke in answer to Felicity's query. "My father, Noble Chief Muidatu, has a house ready. For us. In the village."
Felicity was confused. A house in the village felt more like good news than bad. It seemed safer than having to live in the jungle. But why had Oliver's half-brother been so angry over such news? And why did Oliver seem to be troubled by it?
"Live in the village? What about the treehouse?" she asked in puzzlement.
He hesitated before giving an answer. "We leave the treehouse before full moon. It will not hold when the rains come. It's not safe. For us. For you."
That reason was not exactly a lie.
Oliver had built and rebuilt his treehouse in the jungle year after year. He was a skilled builder, using only the best materials available in the immediate environment – wood, bamboo, dried grass and leaves, and ropes made from natural fibers like abaca. His uncle, the Chief's younger brother, had taught him well, and when he had met Big John Diggle, he had learned a few new building techniques using a saw, a hammer, and some nails. But when the rainy season came each year, tropical typhoons would demolish his temporary shelter, and he had to take refuge in a nearby cave for months until the season of storms and monsoon rains passed.
In a few weeks' time, the rains would come. That was reason enough for him and his wife to dwell in the village where there would be ample food supply, as well as the support of a community when they begin to raise a family.
Oliver withheld from Felicity the other side of the matter, but he would tell her in time, when a better opportunity presented itself. He only hoped that by then, she would have changed her mind about being his wife. In the meantime, he was determined to woo her in the ways he knew. He would bide time to find the English words to explain to her the two things he had realized in such a short span of time.
First, he believed Felicity held the master key that unlocked his broken heart, the secrets of his identity, and the hope of fulfilling his destiny.
Second, Felicity had come to mean more to him than just a woman to have children with, although he wanted her that way, too. He would do anything to protect his wife from harm, be it a physical threat or something caused by the unreasonable norms of society.
Oliver only hoped that when the time came, she'd understand and accept both. He longed for the time when she would feel about him the same way he now felt about her. Only, he wished it would happen soon, because every sundown, he found that he loved her more than he did the day before.
A/N: Thoughts about the story arcs and plot line so far? I hope you don't mind the culture and history lessons. :-)
Author's Notes:
1. Fale is the term for the single-room house of the Ifugao, an indigenous tribe found in the mountains of Northern Luzon, the Philippines. At first glance, the architectural design seems to resemble the traditional nipa hut or bahay kubo that is iconic of Filipino rural culture in the lowlands. However, the fale is different. The sturdy structure crafted using timber from amugawan trees is built on four posts, which are buried about 50cm below the ground and hedged in with stones. The wooden sides of the house slant outward and rise up to the waist, this forms the lower half of the wall. The upper half of the wall is formed by the inner side of the roof. The main "house cage" has no windows. The architecture creates a dark chamber, which suggests a womb. The pyramid-shaped roof that rests on the house cage is covered with thick layers of thatch made of dried grass, which insulates the house from the heat of the sun and from the torrential rains. The Ifugao fale were traditionally situated in perfect harmony with the contours of rice terraces that the people carved out of mountainsides.
2. Definition of other terms:
kamote = sweet potato
pansit-pansitan = a kind of herb with shallow roots, succulent stems, and tiny heart-shaped leaves; it is edible when raw or cooked; it also has medicinal value (English: pepper elder)
anahaw = a kind of round-leafed fountain palm commonly found in Southeast Asia
cogon = a species of grass used for thatching roofs of traditional houses in Southeast Asia
3. Chief Muidatu's advice to Oliver - that raising a family would be better if they lived in the village than in an isolated treehouse in the jungle - and Oliver's position that this arrangement would ensure ample food supply and the support of the community when raising children, are inspired by an African proverb: "It takes a village to raise a child."
4. In the past, it was common practice among indigenous tribes of Northern Luzon to take another wife if the first wife seems barren. (If you are interested in learning more about this tribal custom, you may want to read the famous short story "Wedding Dance" by Filipino writer Amador Daguio. In that story, the husband and wife love each other so much, but they end up succumbing to culture and tribal law. It's heartbreaking. That is the story that inspired this particular arc that I am taking Olicity on in this fic.) Personally, I find this practice quite unfair. When a married couple can't get pregnant, it doesn't have to be the fault of the wife. Why assume that she is the one who has the biological problem? Isn't it possible that it is the husband that is impotent? Just thoughts...