Firstly, I AM SORRY FOR INTRODUCING LIKE 10 NEW CHARACTERS IN THIS CHAPTER. I hereby give you permission not to memorize all of them. All will most likely be seen again someday, but probably not much (I'm not completely sure how many more chapters are going to be about Avari at this point). Anyway, this chapter is more meant to introduce you all to the Avari as a whole (not just the Hwenti tribe, who we'll spend most of our time with) and I didn't know how to do that without throwing a bunch of new elves at you. Hopefully it's not too confusing. (If it is, PM me and I'll give you a huge, long explanation which will confuse you even more.)

Good luck.

"So remember, Silvan," Fox began, "the Windan and Penni are usually nice."

"The Kindi and especially the Kinn-lai are stern, but reasonable," added Moon.

"And the Cuind are just plain wacko," Winter said.

"But don't judge elves by their tribe," Star put in, with a meaningful look at the others.

Raven nudged Storm. "You can completely judge them by their tribe. We do it all the time."

"Especially the Cuind," said Dawn.

"Right," said Storm, looking around at his friends. They were farther east than he'd ever been—in Penni territory, apparently, if one was inclined to see the areas where each tribe could usually be found as "territory"—and it was time for one of the irregular gatherings of all the Avari. Right now they were on a hill overlooking massive lake (or inland sea, as Storm saw it), slowly making their way down toward what looked like a blown-up version of an Avari camp on the grassy area by the lakeshore. Storm could see elves with all sorts of heights, hair colors, and dye-markings running around (often literally) below, and even a few darker-skinned half-humans. He'd thought some were fighting at first, but was pretty sure now that they were only playing. "Anything else I need to know?"

"Just don't do anything dumb and you'll be fine," said Dawn. "Now hurry up, I want to talk to everyone." Without further comment, she took off running down the slope to join the Hwenti elves already in the camp, and the others followed her at varying speeds, Fox and Moon coming last as they jogged slowly so Moon could guide her husband around obstacles.

Well, almost last. Flint, of all elves, stayed back with Storm, watching the other elves race down the hill. "Wow, I thought at least Winter or Fox and Moon would offer to introduce you to everyone."

"Are you volunteering?"

The half-human raised an eyebrow. "I could, or I could leave you to your own devices. You probably wouldn't die."

"Why am I afraid you're not exaggerating on the 'probably'?"

"Because the Cuind really are crazy. Now c'mon before I change my mind."

They moved down the hill slowly; Flint, it seemed, wasn't in a hurry to join the chaos below.

Storm cleared his throat. "Be honest with me. How likely am I to get stabbed by someone?"

"Oh, not very. Anyone who messes with a Hwenti has to deal with Nana, so—oh, look at that." Flint pointed to a nearby stand of trees just as three horses burst from it, two with elves perched on their backs, though Storm couldn't see any tack. "Kinn-lai."

Storm, though, wasn't focused on the elves so much as the horses. They were thin, sleek, sharp-boned beasts, one red-bay, one dark brown, one golden-dun, and all three shining like metal in the sunlight. They flew toward Storm and Flint at incredible speed, but their long legs flashed in pairs—trotting, not galloping. Winter had told Storm about these creatures. "Sarril," he murmured.

"Beautiful, aren't they?" Flint surprised Storm by agreeing. Then again, the half-human had a fascination with wild predators—he liked to make friends with the local wolf packs, which explained his alarming number of wolf-bite scars—and these horses, though theoretically vegetarian, moved more like hunters than prey. Kind of like most of the elves around here, come to think of it.

"Hello, Flint," shouted the elf on the red horse. "Who's your friend?"

Flint smirked. "A stray we picked up. Storm, this is Smoke, the Kinn-lai leader."

The two elves—no, the female was part human, with vaguely rust-colored skin—let their horses wheel around Storm and Flint once before sliding to a stop; the riderless brown horse halted a few strides away and snorted, shaking its thin head.

Smoke nodded to Storm. "Well met, newcomer. And this is Dove, our healer and my wife."

Storm filed away the knowledge that the female half-human, judging from what he knew about Avari healers, was probably the more dangerous of the two. "It's nice to meet you." He was reasonably fluent in the Avari tongue by now, which was good since not all Avari spoke other languages.

"Is it? You're welcome. Where are you from?"

"Greenwood, but my mother was Hwenti."

Smoke cocked his head to the side, dark eyes studying Storm. "That'd be... Rose?" He looked to Flint, who nodded silently. "Interesting, interesting. Welcome to the tribes, Storm."

"Thanks." Storm's eyes kept going to the brown horse, which was watching him back, not moving except for the occasional twitch of an ear or its tail. "Would it be rude if I asked about your horses?"

Smoke shifted on his horse's back. "What about them?"

"They come from the southern deserts, don't they?"

"Yes, from Harad. Why?" Smoke's words were quick and a bit brusque, but Storm was pretty sure that was just how he talked. Or at least, Flint wasn't looking at him like he was being incredibly rude, and Dove was scratching her horse's ears, so there didn't seem to be any hurry.

"Just curious," said Storm. "Can I pet one, or do they bite?" Or maybe he should be more concerned about trampling.

The Kinn-lai exchanged smirks. "You can try," Smoke told him, raising both eyebrows.

Storm could read that expression, but he decided to give it a shot anyway. He took a step toward the brown horse—a mare—and held out his hand. "Hey there, girl. Come say hello?"

Most horses would have approached immediately upon being called by an elf; this one snorted and pawed the ground with one sharp hoof, her whole lean-muscled body tense and quivering.

"How rude. All right, let's see how badly this goes." Storm took another step toward the brown mare. The horse squealed and jumped back—literally hopped backward a full length of her body. "Whoa there, girl, I'm not gonna hurt you. But you know that, don't you? And you're gonna make this hard anyway."

The mare glared at him and laid her ears back against her head. When he took another step, she wheeled and raced back a few strides.

Storm considered the horse, then the Kinn-lai and Flint, who were laughing at him. "She's not gonna let me touch her, is she?"

"Nope," said Smoke.

"Can I do something stupid?"

"If you like."

Storm squared his shoulders and looked the mare right in the eye, then rushed at her. As expected, she bolted to the side too fast for him to touch her. Not as expected, she then twisted around with impossible agility and rammed into him, sending him flying.

Storm crashed back to earth and got a mouthful of grass and a few temporary bright blurs in his vision for his efforts, and no sooner did he groan and try to stand up, ready to laugh at himself, than the mare screamed and threw herself at him again. The two horses ridden by the Kinn-lai squealed and pawed the ground at Storm yelped and scrambled to the side. The mare grabbed his hood in her teeth and yanked him backward, but Storm struggled out of his cloak and leaped over the mare's back. She twisted around and was after him in an instant; Storm dove behind Flint for safety, and the red horse snapped at him as he passed.

"Aagh, you idiot!" Flint yelled, shoving Storm toward the other two horses and bolting the other way right before the mare's teeth found his face. Storm tried to duck between the two ridden horses, but the red stallion knocked the air out of him with a casual yet crippling blow of his front hoof. Storm tumbled backward and found himself looking up at the brown mare, who raised one hoof as if to give him a good stomping.

Smoke whistled sharply, and the mare flicked one ear in his direction, then reluctantly moved that way, stepping as lightly as a cat.

Flint walked back to Storm's prone form and prodded him with one foot. "Learn something?"

Storm tried to talk, but wheezed instead.

Smoke appeared over him, too, finally off his horse. "Want to 'pet' one of the stallions next?"

"I'm good," Storm managed, rolling over halfway and rubbing his side where he'd been kicked; he thought the horse might've cracked a rib or two. "Nice murder horses."

They both snickered, then looked up, or rather, looked down the hill at something Storm couldn't see. "Hello, Hawk," Smoke called.

"Good morning," replied a male voice that didn't quite have the typical Avari accent—maybe a trace of Raven's mother-tongue fluidity, and something else. "Didn't hurt him too bad, I hope."

Smoke looked down at Storm. "You good?"

"I'll live."

Smoke nodded, then went to get back on his horse. "Later, then." He and Dove nudged their horses, which stepped delicately over Storm before breaking into a trot. The brown mare sniffed Storm for a few nerve-wracking seconds, then followed.

"That looked exciting," said Hawk, "Flint, you're well, I hope?"

"Fine," Flint responded with a shrug.

Storm hauled himself into a sitting position with a groan—he was going to be hurting for a while—and then found himself staring.

Hawk rested his hand on Flint's shoulder for a moment, then turned and knelt next to Storm. "Well met, Rose's son. You look like your mother."

Storm realized he was staring and mentally kicked himself. "You knew her?"

"Of course. She was my niece."

Flint smirked at Storm's behavior. "What, never seen a full Vanya before?"

Storm could feel his face turning pink. "No, I haven't."

Hawk grinned amiably. "Don't worry, you're not the first to stare." It was hardly a surprising statement; though he wasn't particularly tall, even a little shorter than Storm, the Vanya's hair was the brightest, richest gold Storm had ever seen, and his eyes a vivid, electric blue. Even his skin had golden undertones instead of pink or tan. "I should introduce myself. I'm Hawk, the Kindi leader, and, yes, your mother's-mother's brother. Your great-uncle."

Storm nodded sheepishly; he'd known from his tribemates that all three full Vanya to stay in Middle-Earth—of which Hawk was the only one still alive—had been siblings. "I guess you know who I am?"

"I do indeed," Hawk confirmed, standing up. "Winter and Dawn just told me. Now come on—you can walk, I hope?"

"One second." Storm climbed to his feet with a grunt, accepting Hawk's steadying hand even though he didn't need it. He still couldn't tell how bad the damage to his ribs was, but he was mostly certain he could fake wellness decently enough to escape Star's attention... though the other tribes had their healers too, like Smoke's wife Dove. That could be problematic if the others didn't ignore him like Dove had. "I guess I'm not allowed to have one of those horses?"

"Oh, no, the Kinn-lai would let you take one if you could ride it," Flint said cheerfully, handing Storm his (somewhat battered) cloak before following Hawk down the hill. "That's what they always tell us, anyway."

"No one's ever managed it, have they?"

Flint grinned, probably remembering watching previous attempts to wrangle horses. "Nope."

"Figures."

"So," Hawk said to Storm, "you like it here? You're staying?"

"Oh, yeah."

The Vanya nodded. "I'm glad you've made friends with Flint; I know you're older, but both of you are effectively new to the tribes."

"Hey!" Flint protested. "I'm two hundred!"

"Exactly," Storm teased. "You're basically an elfling. A... half-elfling."

Flint swung a fist at him.

"Now, now," Hawk interrupted, stepping between them. "Let's not fight."

Flint crossed his arms and turned away in a manner common among adolescents of all cultures, which Storm found hilarious. Hawk gave Storm a "See? See how much he needs a friend?" look.

Hawk moved on, entering the fringes of the camp, which had a few cloth or leather tents but mostly open space and campfires. "I'd like you to meet at least one of my children," he told Storm, "which shouldn't be too hard to arrange since there are six of them. They're half-Easterling like Flint."

"Which is why he thinks all the half-humans in the tribes are his children," Flint muttered.

"I suppose you're an expert on humans, then," remarked Storm, ignoring Flint. He smiled and waved to the elves they passed; he was getting the same curious looks he'd received when he first met the Hwenti, along with a few suspicious glares, mostly from the elves with dye-markings that traced all the lines on the left side of their faces, including their ears. It was a rather fearsome look.

"I'd say so," Hawk agreed. "But so are most of the Kindi. Oh, here we go. EAGLE! SPARROW!"

"All his children are named after birds, too," Flint whispered to Storm.

"And you're named after a rock," Storm reminded him.

Flint rolled his eyes, which was his favorite form of communication.

Two half-humans ran up to them, but these ones didn't look like Flint. Oh, they had the same black hair and dark brown eyes, even some of the same facial features, but Hawk's children had skin of a bright bronze shade, mixing Easterling brown with Vanya gold.

"Huh," said Storm. "Why can't I look like that?"

Flint appeared deeply offended, but the female half-human grinned, and her brother blushed.

"This is Eagle, my oldest," Hawk said proudly, indicating his daughter. "And this one is my third child and eldest son, Sparrow. He's one of our healers."

Sparrow waved. "Hey."

"So you're the one Dawn's so excited about," mused Eagle. "Hi Flint, how's life?"

Flint wrinkled his nose as Eagle put an arm around his shoulders and gave him a good, long side-hug.

"Nice meeting you, stray," Eagle said to Storm, "but the other half-breeds are gonna want to see this one. See ya." She dragged Flint away.

Sparrow lingered for a moment, shaking his head. "Poor kid. I think it's good for him, though."

Storm realized he was talking about Flint. "He kinda needs to be forcibly shown acceptance, doesn't he?"

"Sometimes." Sparrow offered a quick wave before following his sister; Storm could see a bunch of half-humans gathered in an open spot in that direction, including the few Hwenti ones.

Hawk smiled after them, then turned to Storm. "Want me to help you find Dawn, since my children stole your guide?"

"Actually, I was hoping you could introduce me to some of the other tribe leaders? Seems like a good way to get to know the tribes, and Dawn keeps talking about them."

Hawk stroked his chin. "Hmm. That should be doable. Let's see, you've met Smoke, and of course you know Dawn..." He started in a seemingly random direction, weaving between elves who were definitely not getting out of his way as the Eldar would for a king, and Storm hurried to keep up. "I think the Windan are this way somewhere... Aha!" They'd almost bumped into Fox and Moon, and a black-haired she-elf who looked like Fox. "You know two of these, I think."

"It's Hawk and Storm," Moon explained for Fox. "Storm, this is Fox's sister, Night."

"Hi," said Night. "These two were just telling me about you."

"Really? I'm honored—whoa." Upon looking more closely at the she-elf, Storm realized her eyes weren't just dark, they were pitch-black, with veins of silver-white like the facets of a gemstone. "Sorry, I keep staring at people—but your eyes are stunning."

"Don't flirt with my sister," Fox scolded, jabbing him in the ribs with impressive accuracy. "She's married."

Storm made a face at him, barely holding back his grimace as the pain in his side flared again. Luckily, it faded back to bruise-level quickly.

"Shush," Night told Fox. To Storm, she replied, "Thanks—we're descended from one of the original three pairs who weren't in the main groups, Enel and his wife, and that's where the color comes from. Fox used to have black eyes too, before..." Her eyebrows knit together as she regarded her brother's now milky-white eyes.

"Huh. Wow."

Hawk cleared his throat. "Not to be rude, but I've got to go see my half-humans, so... later, Storm. Night, Storm wants to meet all the tribe leaders, can you introduce him to yours?"

"Sure," said Night, but the Vanya was already gone.

"Night's the Windan healer," Fox told Storm. "She used to be Hwenti, until the Windans' previous healer got killed."

"They're a good tribe," Night commented placidly, leading them toward an area with more tents. "You'll like the leaders."

"There are three, right?"

"Right, and all were born Eldar. The leader we had before stepped down when she realized these three were such a great team."

"She? Most of the leaders are male, yeah?"

Night shrugged. "Yeah, and the healers are mostly female, but there are exceptions. Like Dawn, who's the bossiest creature within a thousand miles."

Storm filed that away for future reference.

"Hello there, who is this?"

Storm had a moment of disorientation upon hearing a Doriathian accent, even though the language was Avari. The speaker was a male elf coming toward them, apparently Sinda, though his features and caramel-colored hair suggested a bit of Silvan blood a couple generations back. He grinned widely.

"Our new tribemate," Fox replied with equal excitement. "His name's Storm."

"Hello, Storm, and welcome to the tribes! My name is Wanderer—or Mistari, if you prefer not to translate."

"He's one of our leaders," Night explained. "Where are the other two?"

Wanderer looked around, then whistled sharply. An answering whistle came from behind a tent, and an instant later two more elves raced up to them, one a Noldo, dark-haired and dark-eyed, and the other a smaller, silver-haired Sindarin she-elf. They stopped beside Wanderer, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with hands loosely intertwined.

"This is Storm," Wanderer announced to the two of them. "The Hwenti brought him. Say, where are you from originally?"

"Greenwood," said Storm. "But my mother was Avari."

Wanderer nodded enthusiastically. Storm deduced this one liked people quite a bit.

The Noldo bowed politely, and spoke with a strong accent that caught Storm off guard. "Well met, Storm. I am Alcaito, though many call me Flames—"

"Flame-eyed, you know, like the Eldar call elves who've seen Valinor," Wanderer interrupted.

"And I am Silivren," the she-elf finished, giving Storm a friendly smile. "No nicknames."

"You are from Greenwood, you said?" Wanderer confirmed before Storm could get a word in. "Would you happen to know how the Sindar there are doing? I used to know some of them, you see."

"Actually," said Storm, "my sister married the then-prince, so I know a bunch of them. A lot died in the War, including Oropher, but most of the others are doing well. ...Not Thranduil so much, though."

Wanderer frowned. "No? How come?"

Storm looked down at the ground, and felt Moon's hand squeeze his arm. He was grateful for the support, even though he could think of Sky now without it hurting too much. "He almost faded when my sister—the queen—was killed in Angmar."

"Recently?" Wanderer inferred.

Storm nodded. "That's why I came."

"I'm sorry."

Alcaito and Silivren had been whispering, and now the former cleared his throat. "Did you by any chance know a Sinda named Taensirion?"

"He spared my husband's life after the Fall of Doriath," Silivren explained, her arm twined around Alcaito's. There was something curious about the flowers at their feet.

Storm grinned wryly. "Did I know him? I courted his daughter for a bit."

Silivren laughed. "Really! He is well, then?"

"Oh, yeah. Four children now and a bunch of grandkids, and I think he's the most respected elf in Greenwood besides the king."

Alcaito and Silivren smiled at each other and nodded, and Storm was sure he saw a dandelion burst into bloom next to them, and then immediately swivel to face Silivren. He raised an eyebrow.

"Which leaders have you met so far?" Night asked Storm.

"Just Smoke, Hawk, and these—"

"And Dawn, of course," remarked Wanderer, interrupting again. "I think I saw the Penni leaders by the shoreline. Speaking of Dawn, are you sure you've settled on your tribe? We can always use more elves, you know."

"Don't even think about it," Moon warned him, pushing Storm toward the lakeshore and pulling Fox with her other hand. "This one's ours."

The three Windan leaders and Night laughed as Moon hurried Storm and Fox away. "It was worth a try," Storm heard Silivren say. "The plants like him a lot, and so do I, I think."

"He has fighting experience as well," Alcaito added. "A lot of it. But if Dawn likes him, I doubt we would have to worry about it."

Wanderer laughed. "Not everyone is a potential threat, Flames."

"I thought that was what I said?"

Storm was out of earshot then, and Moon wasn't yanking him as fast anymore. "Did I see the flowers reacting to Silivren?" he asked curiously. In Greenwood, only a select few elves tried to do anything with flowers and other plants—it wasn't an especially useful skill, except for landscaping, and the conversations were even less intellectually stimulating than with trees.

"Yeah, she has that effect. Look, Silvan, I hope you're not thinking about going with them."

He smirked. "Sheesh, Moon, I thought we were encouraged to travel with other tribes sometimes."

"Not you," she informed him. "Or not yet, anyway. Dawn said not to let you out of our sights."

"Metaphorically speaking," Fox noted.

Storm tilted his head. "Which... everyone did the moment we got here?"

"This was after she realized we left you with Flint," Fox explained, raising one finger to emphasize his point. "That's why we were looking for you—again, metaphorically." He winked.

That did explain how they'd found each other in a camp of almost seven hundred and fifty elves. "I can still meet the other leaders, though, right?"

"Sure," said Moon, looking around. Apparently not finding whoever she was looking for, she ran and jumped on a tall rock—they were close to the water now—and yelled at the top of her lungs. "CLOUD! BREEZE! COME MEET OUR NEW ELF!" She waited, tapping her foot. Most of the nearby elves jumped, but then went back to their conversations or games as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Storm figured this communication method shouldn't surprise him.

"Cloud and Breeze are brothers," Fox remarked conversationally. "They might not be as happy to meet you as the others; Hawk and the Windan trio are the friendly ones."

Storm shrugged. "They can't be worse than Smoke, seeing as he let me get trampled a few minutes ago."

"Ooh, you tried to ride a horse?"

"Pet, actually. A few minutes ago, you poked me right where I got kicked."

"Oh no, really?"

"Eh, consider it revenge for when I punched your bruised arm a few weeks back."

Moon had been yelling and whistling every few moments, but now she hopped down from the rock to meet two elves—both of mixed ancestry, with wavy hair of slightly different light blond shades. One of them had a furry brown weasel-like creature curled up in his hood—a beech marten. It was very cute, but if Avari horses were vicious, Storm was afraid of what an actual wild animal would be like.

"Storm," Moon announced, "these are Breeze and Cloud. You two, this is Storm, our new tribemate."

Both Penni leaders' faces communicated how unimpressed they were, though Breeze's mainly said, "You interrupted the important stuff I was doing for this?" while Cloud looked more passively bored. This gave Storm an intense desire to prove he was interesting.

"Hello," said Storm, stepping forward and smiling. "I'm Rose's son—I grew up in Greenwood and never knew I was Avari, but it turns out I fit in pretty well here. Sorry to bother you, but I wanted to get to know the tribe leaders."

The two Penni looked at him for a moment, then Cloud stifled a yawn. Breeze turned to Moon and asked, "Where'd you find this one?"

"Raven found him wandering around in the wilderness and brought him home."

"Ah." Breeze nodded wisely. "Bit overeager, isn't he?"

"I know, he was like this with us, too. He even did the same thing where he gasps and stands up straighter when he's offended."

Breeze stroked the marten on his shoulder. "Like an angry songbird fluffing its feathers."

Now Fox spoke up in Storm's defense. "C'mon now, he's a good tribe member. He learns fast and does his share of the work, and everyone likes him. Honestly, Moon."

She huffed. "I'm just teasing. You can take a joke, right, Storm?"

Storm sighed.

Cloud approached Storm. "Want some advice? You're trying too hard."

I'll try as hard as I want to, Storm thought rebelliously. "Am I?"

The Avari raised an eyebrow. "Introducing yourself to the leaders? Weaseling into Dawn's friend group? You think you're special, don't you, Eldar?"

So these two thought he wanted to gain favor with the leaders. Annoying, but an easy mistake to make; plenty of elves had tried to get close to Thranduil, Sky, and even Storm for that very reason in Greenwood. At least one—Alagon—had succeeded. "Oh yes," he replied dryly. "I'm absolutely superior to every one of you lowly Avari; that's why the Hwenti have taken me in, because they just love arrogant elves."

Cloud allowed a tiny smirk to show. "Fine. Just keep in mind that things work differently here, and you won't impress anyone by licking boots."

"Or licking anything, really," added Raven.

Storm ducked, Moon screamed, and even Cloud and Breeze jumped; only Fox didn't react to the tall elf's sudden appearance. It was nice, Storm decided, to finally be surrounded by elves as jumpy as he was.

"I hear you've been meeting all the leaders," Raven continued conversationally, as if he hadn't just scared four elves half to death. "Feeling out the social network already?"

"He really is Shade's grandson," Moon remarked.

"I wasn't..." Storm decided it probably wasn't worth it to correct them. "Right. Well. Nice to meet you, Cloud and Breeze, and thanks for the accusations of boot-licking. May I meet the Cuind leader now?"

Breeze and Cloud raised eyebrows at each other. "He's brave," the former observed.

"Yeah," said Fox. "Hey Raven, why don't you take him? Twist likes you."

Raven smirked. "As much as he likes any Hwenti. Sure." He walked over to Breeze and scratched the Penni's furry friend behind the ears, appearing unconcerned when it tried to nip him.

Storm was a bit afraid to ask, but he did anyway. "Is Twist his real—I mean, the name his parents gave him?"

Fox shook his head. "The Cuind all started calling him that right before he became their leader. We're all afraid to ask why."

That wasn't worrying at all.

"C'mon, Silvan," Raven said, nudging him. "Let's go find Twist before everyone comes in to sing."

Raven led Storm through the camp at a brisk run, dodging elves walking, sitting on the ground, wrestling, and running like them, though he did pause to give plenty of space to a speckled gray sarril which was following one of the Kinn-lai through the camp. There were a few of the fierce horses among the elves—clearing all the non-Kinn-lai out of their way wherever they went—though most of them must have been outside the camp; Storm also spotted numerous other animals, mostly predators such as wolves, foxes, birds of prey, and weasels. According to the dye-marks, many of the elves the animals stayed near were Penni.

Speaking of which... "I thought the Penni were supposed to be nice," Storm complained to Raven.

The ancient elf slowed a bit to regard him. "Eh, they mostly are. Breeze and Cloud are just exceptions—same with Hawk and the Kindi. If we switched Hawk with those two, things might make more sense."

"Dawn doesn't quite match our reputation, either," Storm mused. "We're supposed to be the lighthearted, friendly ones, yeah?"

"Yeah." Raven sped up again, then grinned widely. "Don't worry, Twist is a perfect example of his tribe."

"Hooray."

There were no tents at all in this area, and even cooking fires were few and far between—in fact, this area hardly counted as a camp at all except for the piles of packs here and there, and the elves talking in hushed groups. The Cuind showed as much physical variation as the rest of the Avari, but they were all wary-eyed and nervous, standing and backing a few paces away as Storm and Raven passed. Their clothing was darker and unevenly patterned compared to the normal durable, practical green-brown-gray Avari clothing with only the cloaks camouflaged, and some had gloves with spikes resembling cats' claws. There were no half-humans among them, and only a few elves from other tribes mixed in.

Raven clicked his tongue. "Don't worry, all the friendly ones are down mingling with the other tribes."

Storm wasn't sure how that was supposed to stop him from worrying, particularly given how the few Cuind he'd seen down there had still displayed an automatic dislike of him.

Raven strode toward a few of the Cuind, causing all the others to bunch together and glare at the intruders threateningly. One of them hissed at Storm, who halted in surprise... and then hissed back, which made the Cuind jump back in alarm. Storm wasn't sure why he'd done it except that it seemed like the proper response.

One of the Cuind stepped forward to meet them—a wiry, dark-haired elf whose stance looked slightly off-balance, though Storm couldn't figure out why. He went straight up to Raven, even though he had to look almost straight up to meet the much taller Noldo's eyes; Storm was reminded of a tiny stoat about to go for a rabbit's neck. When he spoke, his words were fast and sharp, and Storm almost couldn't decipher them. "What do you want, Raven?"

Raven nodded in Storm's direction.

Twist's eyes—Storm assumed this elf was Twist, though there was nothing in his clothing or unnerving dye-marking to distinguish him—snapped to Storm, narrowing to slits. Storm reflexively flinched backward, but then steeled himself and stared back. He was done being knocked off balance by his new greatly-extended family.

Twist didn't move, even to blink.

Neither did Storm.

Twist tilted his head a fraction of a degree, like a bird of prey considering its next meal.

Storm allowed the ghost of a cocky smile to flit across his face, making it clear he wasn't intimidated in the slightest.

Seconds passed. Raven waited patiently, while the other Cuind began to fidget nervously and whisper among themselves, which to Storm's ears sounded like soft hisses and clicks.

Twist finally blinked—slowly, as if to show the movement was entirely deliberate—and continued staring.

Storm's eyelids didn't even twitch.

The muscles in Twist's shoulder contracted nearly imperceptibly, a split second before his hand shot up to catch the underside of Storm's arm. What he didn't know was that Storm had always been skilled at predicting his enemy's next move, and it was he who found a hand under his arm to knock him off balance. He jerked backward—Storm let him go immediately, fearing the dagger the Cuind's other hand reached for—as his tribemates pressed closer with feral hisses and growls.

Twist caught his balance, and the other Cuind quieted down. The leader eyed Storm for a few moments, then grudgingly said, "I respect you."

"Likewise," Storm replied. It seemed more appropriate than "thanks".

Twist nodded slowly, then moved away to the side, never quite turning his back on Storm. The others gave Storm disbelieving looks, then followed.

"Huh," said Raven.

"That was interesting," Storm agreed.

The Noldo nodded silently, watching Storm as if with a new respect. Then he looked away suddenly, down the hill at a large group of elves gathering by the lakeshore—most of the cookfires were down to embers now. "It's about to get dark. Time to go down."

"Lead on."

. . . . . .

"Have fun?"

Storm grinned and knelt next to Dawn in the cool grass, squeezing between Raven, Flint, and Star—elves were packed tightly down here. "Yeah. Not sure about the impression I made on all the tribe leaders, though."

Dawn nodded to Fox and Moon, who were sitting nearby with Night and a few Windan and Penni elves. "I hear even Cloud and Breeze found you interesting."

"'Arrogant' might be a better word," Storm corrected sheepishly. "Cloud gave me a lecture."

"Moon said it wasn't too bad, and she knows them well. They're her mother's cousins."

"Right—her parents are Penni, right?"

"Yeah, but she was born Hwenti, since only we, the Kindi, and the Cuind were around then."

Storm filed that away for future reference. "Y'know, I'm so tempted to make fun of elves' names around here," he remarked.

Behind them, Flint snorted and threw a fistful of clover at Storm. "We could say the same of you, Stormy."

"It's Stormyfire, Flint, get it right," Raven corrected imperiously, though he'd appeared completely focused on the gradually-appearing stars a moment ago. "Or, depending on how you translate it, Burning Lightning. Zappy Combustion. Thundercloud of Flame."

Storm rolled his eyes and ignored him. "That's another thing. All the fire names. Stormfire, Flames, Smoke..."

The other three all went quiet suddenly, then looked in separate directions. Storm was mystified until it hit him. Ember. Dawn's mother's name.

Oops, thought Storm. Should I apologize...? But it was probably better to let it go; they wouldn't be mad.

It was too late, anyway. Dawn stood abruptly and walked down to the water's edge, joining Wanderer and Smoke (and Dove, who'd followed her husband down, though she left when she saw Dawn approaching). As soon as Dawn moved, Hawk and the Penni leaders stood and did the same, and after a moment, so did Alcaito and Silivren—Storm hadn't noticed before, but those two were among the elves socializing with Fox and Moon. Finally Twist joined them as well, fidgeting restlessly, and when all the leaders stood facing the loose three-quarters-circle of assembled elves, the tribes quieted.

Storm leaned back to consult his two friends. "Is Dawn in charge here, sort of? The others seemed to be waiting for her."

"Well done," said Raven. "'Sort of', yeah. The Hwenti have always been the informal leaders of the tribes. Want to guess why?"

"My grandfather again, huh?"

Raven winked.

But Dawn wasn't the first leader to speak; that was Wanderer, who was bouncing on his heels. "So! Here we all are again!"

A few sarcastic elves yelled back that this was indeed the case.

"I do not think there is much to talk about," Alcaito remarked, as much to the other leaders as to their audience. "The orcs have retreated even further into their holes, and the North is quiet."

Dawn turned to Smoke and Hawk and asked, "How are the Southlands and the East?"

Hawk sighed. "The Easterlings have a new tyrant again, and have gone back to their old ways. Looks like the dark lord's absence won't change much."

"We could try something..." Dawn began doubtfully.

Hawk shook his head regretfully. "Killing their leaders never worked before. Their whole way of thinking would have to change, and I don't think we could do that."

Whispers spread through the group, and sparked a few brief arguments. Most of the elves shook their heads, and the leaders observed this and bowed their heads. Flint sighed quietly.

Storm hadn't ever heard anyone give much thought to the Easterlings before, aside from wondering how their society could be so corrupted. How was it that these isolated elf tribes cared more about those tormented people than other humans did?

"That's that, then," Dawn said, though her tone was stiffer than before—frustrated. Of course she would want to help her husband's people. "Smoke?"

"Many orcs linger in Mordor, but we're trying to clear them out. We hope to make the land livable again someday," Smoke summarized in his quick, clipped way.

"Do you think you can?" an elf called down, and Storm recognized Winter's voice. "I've been there, and the land's too rocky to feed horses. Besides, there aren't any plants."

"I didn't say it would happen soon," Smoke replied.

"Ash makes good fertilizer," Silivren volunteered hopefully. "You never know."

"Worth a try," another she-elf declared from one end of the group.

A male elf near her snorted. "We've got better things to do."

Various heated discussions broke out, likely among Kinn-lai, though it was too dark to tell for sure. Smoke let this go on for a bit, then yelled, "SHUSH!"

They shushed... mostly.

"It's not completely decided yet," Smoke admitted with a they're-Avari-what-do-you-expect shrug.

"Well," said Dawn, with an air of bringing everyone back on topic, "We've had a few roving orc bands in our area, but nothing we couldn't handle. We do have something exciting to share, though. Now, if someone could push him down here..."

Raven gave Storm a good shove, and several other elves (not all of them Hwenti) repeated the favor, sending Storm half-running, half-rolling down the slope. He easily regained his footing at the bottom and was immediately grabbed by Dawn as if to prevent an escape, not that he'd planned one.

"Say hi, Storm," Dawn prompted.

Storm chuckled and waved to the gathered Avari. "Hello, I'm Storm—or Coryn, untranslated," he added, taking a tip from the Windan leaders' introductions.

The Avari whispered among themselves again, the ones who'd already heard his story undoubtably sharing it with the ones who hadn't. One—a Cuind, Storm thought—yelled, "Another Eldar? Don't we have enough?"

Hisses came from all the Cuind, who were mostly gathered in one area. Twist didn't stop them; in fact, he seemed to be waiting for Storm to defend himself.

"I guess I did the same thing once," Storm mused. "Look, everyone, I know I'm an outsider, and you can think whatever you want of me for that. I've been in your situation. I know how much change a few newcomers can bring, and I can't promise I won't change things sooner or later. But I do know I'm not a threat to your way of life—look around, there're almost eight hundred of you, and one of me—and who knows, maybe I can look at things with fresh eyes. Either way, I'm not Eldar anymore, I'm Hwenti, as much as Wanderer and Alcaito and Silivren here are Windan. And since I'm Hwenti, I'm not going anywhere, because I have a responsibility to my tribe now. Hiss all you want—I'm staying."

"I dare you to try something," Dawn threatened the Cuind, who'd quieted but were still glaring. Twist's expression was unreadable.

"Besides," Raven said loudly, "you wouldn't banish Shade's grandson... would you?"

There were multiple loud gasps from the elves who hadn't already heard this particular tidbit, and the whispering redoubled.

"I'm still getting used to my ancestry being exciting," Storm remarked to no one in particular.

"Eh, it's not that important," Hawk disagreed.

"Don't get a big head," warned Cloud.

Storm decided not to remark on the obvious lie of Hawk's statement, instead focusing on the many, many elves who were staring at them. Many of the Hwenti were whispering to the elves next to them—apparently good things, since the other Avari nodded thoughtfully and regarded Storm more favorably afterward. "Welcome!" one elf finally called down, and others echoed her sentiment, one after the other, swelling into a roar before quieting again.

"Consider yourself accepted," Dawn told Storm proudly. "Now—does anyone have anything else?"

They didn't.

"Then let's go sit down."

Grinning from the lingering effects of his welcoming, Storm followed Dawn back to their spot, where they pushed Raven and Flint out of the way and settled down again. It was fully dark now, and the stars were out.

Across the ring, an elf began to hum. Soon others began to join in, and words became audible. The very air seemed to swell as more and more singers joined in, some singing harmonies that wove under the first tune like water among roots.

Storm hadn't yet met an Avari that couldn't sing. It came of being taught melodies before they could talk, he supposed. Some were only mediocre; others, like Raven, made Storm think of the music of the Valar which created the world they lived in.

The Avari didn't sing of ancient heroes or past triumphs like the Eldar did. Instead, their songs spoke of the seasons and weather, of joy and grief, friendship and adventure, dreams and sorrows, birth and death. Some songs brought tears to the eyes or made a heart want to burst for joy, and others were too goofy to be taken seriously. Sometimes an elf would sing alone for a few lines, or two would battle over a solo, and one time Raven and Dawn sang a duet that made Storm cry, which the others teased him mercilessly about. He didn't tell them it was a song his mother had used to sing to him.

Eventually elves started to fall asleep—including Flint, who ended up with his head in his mother's lap—or wander off, but a few kept singing late into the night, including Raven. Storm finally curled up in the grass, cloak pillowed under his head, and drifted off to the sound of a lullaby.

See my short story "Unlikely Allies" for Alcaito and Silivren's backstory.