Different Tribes

"So, we are going to the great camp where other clans are gathered?" Miriwë asked Beril as they left their camp, followed by some of their best warriors as bodyguards. They had left the tribe in the hands of her second-in-command, an elder Elf who they could trust to protect the tribe while they were gone.

"Yes, we should be able to do a good barter with the fabrics coloured by your dye, little brother. Because I think they have never seen blue fabric outside getting blueberries on their clothes and we all know how difficult those strains can be to wash off!"

They all laughed in agreement, especially Miriwë who could recall the scoldings he had gotten in his adolescent years for trying to use blueberries to his first dye and being seen as wasting food.

"And it is nice to meet other people once in awhile as well. There is also a bigger chance to possibly meet our own future mates if we look away from the tribe at times."

That neither Beril or Miriwë had found a mate yet to share their huts with and begetting Elflings with was something which had worried the tribe elders for a time. It was seen as a bad omen if the tribe leader remained without a mate for long, and being the only living relative of the current leader, Miriwë would also need to find a mate in order to keep their bloodline alive.

"Yes, let's try and see if something may happened while we are at the bigger camp. With some luck, our future mates are there as well, or it could just be that they are not born yet?"

Beril nodded at that suggestion, before taking the lead as they rode on.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~

It was a big camp indeed, the biggest one Miriwë had seen yet in his life. Mentally courting the present huts which could be seen, he guessed that it was at least two-hundred huts and tents down on the steppe.

"I see why you was unsure to bring me along on the earlier trips, sister…" he finally managed to say. Beril only nodded in response, she had actually feared to bring her brother along just because of that he was very good-looking and would naturally attract females to himself like bees to a flower. Their shared bronze skin colour along with his silver hair and eyes tended to make people catch sign of him, and she feared that his good locks may give him serious trouble with unwanted attention. Especially now when he was a fully grown adult Elf and old enough for marriage…

"Come on, let's set up our tents at the edge of the camp. And Miriwë, please try and cover your head with your hood, your silver hair may draw attention before we even have arrived."

"Yes, Beril."

Seeing that it was a feeling of rain in the air, everyone else took the chance to cover their heads before riding down.

Ingwë and his wife Isilmiel had been busy with finding long sticks that could become arrows to use as weapons against orcs, Isilmiel having their sleeping infant son Inwion in a sling on her back, when they both saw an unusual sight: ten unknown horses with Elves riding on their back. Now, semi-domesticated animals like sheep, goats and dogs was slowly becoming more common around the larger camps, but horses? Not here at least.

"I do not think we have seen those Elves before, honey," Isilmiel said as she pushed back a hair curl from her face. Ingwë turned around to see what she meant.

"No, we would have remembered if someone had managed to tame horses in a such manner," he agreed just before Ingwion woke up and wailed softly to get the attention of his mother since he was hungry. Giving him an apologetic look, Isilmiel sat down with crossed legs in order to nurse Ingwion while Ingwë took over the sticks she had gathered.

"Our son is more important than this task, focus on him for now."

"Speaking about children… your sister needs to find herself a husband of her own, I am tired of her nagging over almost everything when we visits your family hut…"

Ingwë could not blame his wife for that complaint, he had often similar thoughts about his younger sister Vanië and could be pretty open about them thanks to her being a rather prideful woman who was currently still unmarried and living with their parents in the family hut.

"I already pity the Elf who eventually marries her, I just hope that she will not cause trouble for our family in the future. I know what she wants to either marry a chieftain or at least having her future children marry one, so she aims rather high in her hope for marriage…" Ingwë said with a strange feeling of dread, hoping that his own family would not be dragged into that kind of possible trouble. A loud burp told him that Ingwion was finished with his meal.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~

Thankfully, it had only been a light passing rain, so they had not gotten much wet. By now, the three tents had been set up with a fireplace about to be started and Miriwë setting up a frame loom outside the tent which he and Beril shared. Once he had warped some yarn around the two shorter ends, he started to weave with a new tread from plant fibers by using a shuttle made of wood.

"Wonder if it should be alright to show people from the other clans how to weave? Of course, it would likely be wisest to ask permission from their own leaders first, so I do not cause any misunderstanding…" Miriwë thought for himself as he looked around, not surprised at all over the curious looks which was sent towards his frame loom. Seeing a couple of ladies standing a bit away, he sent them a flirtatious smile over his shoulder and chuckled to himself when they hurried away with flushed faces. Just because he had not found a mate to share his life with yet, did not mean that he must avoid tempering others. Though a yarn ball gently tossed at his head revealed that Beril had seen it as well.

"Try to keep it low for now, little brother." she said in a gentle voice as she started to make a fire.

"Pardon my absent-thinking, sister."

There was no rules in their tribe about which sibling that was allowed to marry a mate first, but it was frowned upon if a younger sibling were mocking elder mate-less siblings by parading his or her own mate around in front of everyone.

"I better keep an eye on you, so no one tries to steal you while we are here…" Beril sighed in a slightly worried voice, which Miriwë could not really blame his older sister for. A such event had actually been dangerously close to happen while he was still a adolescent, with an unknown She-elf trying to kidnap him as a future mate and only Beril's quick reaction on his screams for help had avoided an unhappy life for him.

When they were roasting some skinned rabbits over the fire as a meal, a unknown Elf came over to them. What surprised the siblings, however, was that his hair was a strong reddish-brown hair with more towards the red shape, a hair colour they had never seen before.

"Well met, newcomers. I saw you arrive earlier and thought that you maybe would be interested in a barter?"

Given that he had a small bag likely filled with goods, Beril and Miriwë shared a look in agreement before Miriwë brought out some of his finished cloaks and tunics he had sewn over the past months. Going from the wide eyes of the new Elf, he had never seen anything coloured in a different colour than natural green, brown or beige.

"Wow… how… I have never seen…" he spoke in stunned wonder as he stroke a hand over a red tunic made from wool coloured with the rose madder plant.

"Nature have a lot of secrets which can be found if we just tries something new," Miriwë grinned in pride while holding up a blue cloak. The red haired Elf opened his bag and revealed that he had several circular bangles made of copper in different sizes, something really unusual from the normal ones of leather normally used. Some of them were even bended into a braided shape.

"How about one of the blue cloaks for ten of those? I have a wife-to-be and I was hoping of finding something special to be used as her mating cloak at the coming summer feast."

Mating cloak was the term used for the cloak a groom would place on his chosen bride's shoulders before making a vow of keeping her as his chosen mate for life, and those mating rituals was favoured to be done in summer when it was warmer weather and more food was available for the feasts.

"Where are my manners! I am named Mahtan," he suddenly said after slapping his own forehead at realizing that he had not given his name. Miriwë smiled as he held out his own hand.

"Miriwë."

Even if they were of different tribes and only just had met, Beril could guess that her brother and Mahtan possible could become very good friends in time. Personally, she was just happy for if it would happen, it was always useful to have allies from other tribes and Miriwë could need new friends outside their own tribe where he knew everyone. Besides, Mahtan seemed like a decent young Elf, which was a good bonus in terms of friendship. It was nothing strange if a married Elf was friends with a unwed one, they could exchange information about how it was to have a mate that might otherwise be difficult to talk about if both did not have a mate yet, along with there was some things which could only be shared with people of the same gender.

"Ten bangles for that blue cloak, deal?"

"Deal."

They shook hands as proof of the agreement, before Mahtan laid the wrapped cloak inside a more common one made of plaited grass to hide it until the mating ceremony as a surprise for his chosen lady.

"See you during the feast sometime over the coming days! Would be fun to see one of you going though the mating ceremony as well," he called while weaving with his arm, before leaving. The siblings shared a sad smile.

"Not this summer for sure, it is not viewed in a good way if a couple tries to undergo a mating ceremony only days after meeting each other for the first time," Beril sighed at recalling stories she had heard about such couples and how their life as mates would turn out to not be that easy together once time passed.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~

Naturally, their presence could not remain unseen forever during the feast. More than once, Beril had to actually hold up her spear in a warning pose in order to have Miriwë be left alone from the unwed She-elves around the camp. Both siblings were good-looking, but especially Miriwë tended to draw attention because of his silver hair and similar-coloured eyes, being rather exotice-looking for those who had never seen a Elf of dark skin colour before.

"Sometimes I wishes that you were less handsome, for the sake of peace for us both," she once said during a meal of a meat stew they had made together. Miriwë nodded without a word, shuddering over how one practicar bold Noldor She-elf had even attempted to kiss him that very morning before he had managed to put his frame loom between their faces. Beril, in all her glory as a protective older sister, had angry chased the Noldor She-elf away under some rather serious threats in where to put her spear into.

"I think you have right in that, sister. But then, things are different in that it is different tribes and strangers… oh?"

Suddenly someone tripped over the small bushes nearby. It was a golden-haired male Elf, holding a now wailing infant in his arms who looked enough similar to him that they had to be father and child.

"Sorry, Ingwion, I was not checking the ground properly," Ingwë apologized nervously to his crying son while checking him over so the boy had not been harmed in the tripping. He gave Beril and Miriwë an apologetic smile over the shoulder while managing to calm down his son, who now had found a part of his father's golden hair to chew on.

"He seems like a good father, not yelling at the baby for starting to cry or trying to find his wife," Beril smiled while Ingwë hurried back home to his hut. Miriwë, who had gathered their wooden bowl together to wash them clean in the river, smiled as well because of the fond memories from his childhood he recalled. It still did hurt, the memory of how their parents had died, but they had to move on for the sake of their own futures.

Soon it was time for the mating ceremonies, where couples was joined together as chosen mates. Using a hood to hide his silver hair for the time so he was left alone from unwanted attention, Miriwë saw Mahtan giving the blue mating cloak to Celuwen, a fellow Noldor who had the rare hair colour of muted strawberry blonde, as a sign of her being his chosen one. Judging from the varied green grass and leaves which she had braided together in order to be able to wear it as a very unusual dress, she clearly had some skills in making clothes and Miriwë decided to let her become a new student in his weaving lessons. Both Mahtan and Celuwen wore flower crowns as a sign of being one of the couples to become mates.

"I wonder what kind of mating ceremony they will hold here?"

Mating ceremonies varied a lot between different tribes. For example, in the one led by Beril, a mating ceremony generally consisted of the couple dancing in the middle of a ring of fire before entering the husband's hut to consummate their new relationship as husband and wife.

"Look, Mahtan seems to be ready to do something."

Indeed he did, Mahtan proved his strength by actually taking hold of Celuwen around her waist with both of his broad hands and spun her around in the air as if she had been a flower while she laughed in joy.

"Come here, my sweet butterfly!" Mahtan laughed as he carried her in his arms towards their new shared hut.

A couple of hours after that mating ceremony, when Miriwë had returned to work on his weaving, did he see Mahtan and Celuwen come towards his and Beril's hut. Celuwen was still covered in the blue cloak, since she seemed to have taken a likening to it.

"Ah, here is the happy couple. How does it feel to be mates?" he greeted with a smile, stopping in the middle of switching a blue thread to a red one in the pattern of the weaving as he was doing at the moment.

"It feels good that it is finally over with the ceremony after waiting for the summer feast to come. And I am much grateful for the cloak Mahtan brought…" Celuwen admitted with a bit of shyness as she looked at Mahtan and then on the frame loom with all the honest interest from someone who realized a chance to increase their skills to make clothes in a different manner than before.

"Do you want to see how I does, and learn?" Miriwë offered before taking up some scoured wool from a basket to show her how to use a spindle in order to spin the wool into a long thin thread. As Celuwen tried her understandably rather clumsy first attempts to spin a thread, Miriwë noticed something about Mahtan's hands:

They were covered in smaller blisters here and there on the hands, blisters of the kind which tended to result after holding something very hot or from a fire. From when he had made the bangles? Very possible, Miriwë recalled watching his father working with fire to make his clay bowls become harder so they could be used to carry water and food, their father had sometimes burnt his fingers, hands and even the forearms on the fire just as he would lift out the hardened clay bowls.

"Mahtan? Would you like to have some kind of protection for your hands when working? Those blisters look rather painful."

Beril tried to give several hand signals to Mahtan that he better keep his mouth shut, she knew that glimpse in her little brother's eyes as that he had gotten an idea and would most likely try it out this very moment.

"Oh, I would love that, but the problem is that no one have really figured out how to make such gloves. I was hoping for leather ones, it is strong and…"

Mahtan got a honest surprise when Miriwë suddenly almost slammed down his whole forearm on a piece of leather, using his own elbow and weight to make Mahtan spread out his fingers before drawing a rough stretch of the open hand and forearm by a piece of black coal and then releasing Mahtan.

"I tried to warn you, he can be like that when het gets set on something," explained Beril to the shocked couple as Miriwë used a stone knife to cut out the shape and then repeating it on several other pieces of leather which he then set together to sew the four pieces into two leather gloves. Since he was the most skilled one at sewing in his tribe, it did not take too long before the silver-haired Elf had a set of leather gloves finished.

"You clearly matches Mahtan in being fast on what you are doing with your hands…"

Miriwë smirked in pride at those words, he always enjoyed being praised for his skills and especially when it was something meant to help others.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~

When Mahtan invited Miriwë for a quick swim in the river before it was time to sleep, he followed along. Few people was up at this time, so there would be no worry about being seen by someone else.

"A possible change in chiefs?"

"Yes, the First Fathers Imine, Tata and Enel are starting to feel that it is time for the new generations to take over some of their duties as Heads over the Clans, we are now enough many that it should be safe to spit up in smaller groups if it should be needed," Mahtan explained as he swam further out in the deep water. Miriwë pushed his bangs out of his face to see better as he listened.

"And who are chosen for that task? As the new possible leaders, I mean?"

"Well here among the Noldor it is a She-elf named Finiel, I believe she is a daughter of one of lord Tata's first followers if I remember right. The Vanyar clan it is a friend of hers, a married Elf named Ingwë who already have his first child with his wife. And in the Teleri clan it is their shared friend Elwë, it is pretty hard to miss him because of that impossible height of his…"

For some reason those three names seemed to click somewhere in the back of Miriwë's mind though he did not recall where or when he may have heard those names.

"Though given how your sister have mentioned that you seems to be a target for a lot of unwanted attention from unmated She-elves, I would suggest that you stay away from Ingwë's younger sister Vanië. She is old enough to be mated and from what I have seen with my own eyes, having a desire to find a rather high-ranking husband. I am a bit unsure if the size of your tribe would be good enough for her ideals, but you being the brother of the leader…"

Miriwë shuddered in fear, understanding what Mahtan tried to warn him for. Back in the tribe, everyone knew that Beril would never allow a such personality in a female mate to him, because it would almost mean a high risk that her leadership over the whole tribe would be challenged eventually. A inner fighting in the leader family affected everyone, and if they could not work together it was a growing risk that they would be unable to defend themselves against Orc attacks just because they could not agree on the orders given.

"Seems like our group better leave this camp soon then, before she manages to spot me and tries anything which neither myself or Beril will like. My sister does not joke when it comes to using that spear of hers."

It was not without a reason that Beril was known as one of the best spear users in their tribe, and she would not hesitate to use the spear if she had a reason for it. The female Elf who had tried to kidnap him as a adolescence had learnt that lesson the hard way, paying with her life against the fury of Beril over nearly losing her brother.

"I do not doubt that. Any kid of hers will likely be trained personally by her in using and throwing the spear at enemies like herself. Hopefully it will just not end up with a dead spouse or offspring by mistake."

That comment caused them both to laugh, though Miriwë had a strong feeling of foreboding about the deeper meaning of that. A son or daughter of Beril, possibly getting involved in a accidental slaying of her or his own spouse and child…

Miriwë did not like that feeling, not at all, he wanted his future niece or nephew to have a happy life and not be haunted by a prophecy of doom.

"The start of a such doom better not be coming from sister's future mate! If so, I shall follow another tradition in our tribe and take responsibility for my niece or nephew at birth, taking over the role of fatherhood from the father if he proves himself unworthy of being the mate of the current leader but managed to make her pregnant before it was revealed!"

Had Mahtan still been in the river, he would have noticed how the water temperature around Miriwë had quickly grown hotter almost to the point of boiling, especially where he had his hands. Not that Miriwë himself seemed to care as he went back to the river bank so he could dry himself off.

At the same time, Finiel had been summoned to the hut of Tata and his wife Tatië.

"You asked for me to come, Leader?" she asked after the greeting bow to him, where he sat cross-legged on a large bear skin. Tata held his eyes closed for the moment, but opened them at the sound of her voice.

"Yes, Finel. I called you here to tell you… I will hand over my Leadership over the Noldor to you at the end of this summer festival. However, it will be a heavy burden on your own if you do not share it with someone. In other words, you need a mate, a consort to the new leader. If you have a consort by your side, you have a better chance to be taken seriously by those who already have gone through the mating ceremonies. A leader without a mate are not seen as fully understanding what kind of troubles two mates can undergo in their relationship and there is a high risk that you would be viewed as not really be fitting for the role without someone at your side."

Tata implied the fact that the Elves needed to stay together in order to survive against orcs and other dangers which could so easily happen to a alone Elf who did not stand with others. Scouting for dangers was one thing, but a very different one to actually be exiled for a unacceptable behavior or flat out crime which had put others in near death-danger.

"I understand, lord Tata. I shall start seeking for a suitable mate from now on," Finiel promised in a serious voice. She did not doubt the unspoken warnings Tata had given her in his speech, a leader without a mate risked to not leave any descendants if they never found a mate. And in the spirit world for the afterlife, having descendants was important as they would offer prayers for her soul after death.

"See you tomorrow, Finiel."

With those words, she was bidden to leave the hut. Once she was well out of hearing, Tatië looked at her husband before saying in a slightly worried voice:

"I do not doubt your choice in that Finiel will be a good leader for the Noldor in your stead, honey, but I have a strange feeling…"

Tata held up his hand to silence her, but not because he did not want to listen on her worries.

"Tatië, I understand that fear as well: her subconscious impatience, that she actually is not as patient as she may look like or pretends to be in front of everyone else. That, my dear wife, alongside her worrying habit of playing out favoritism even if she does not really mean it, is the main fatal flaws of Finiel as a personality. But I hope that with time and with increasing maturity over the years along with the help of a steadfast husband at her side, those flaws will not be allowed to grow stronger."

She nodded in agreement to his words with a small smile in relief, both hoping that Finiel would find a future mate soon. Perhaps she may need help in finding that Elf, and if so, they would help her in secret.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~

Author's note: in canon the wife and queen of Ingwë is sadly unnamed, so I am using the name Isilmiel which I gave her in another one of my stories here as well. It is a bit unclear how Indis is a close relative to Ingwë in canon, but according to the LOTR wiki she is his sister-daughter, so I have given him a younger sister here, named Vanië which means Beauty in Quenya, to show how different I imagine Ingwë and Indis to be in upbringing and personality, besides I think it is a bit of a cliché if someone is the younger sister of a King in stories, why not a niece for once? The wife of Mahtan is unnamed in canon, so I tried to give a hint to their future grandsons Sindarin names by naming her Celuwen, which means Stream Girl in Quenya. I headcanon that before meeting the Valar, the Elves believed in nature spirits and in a sort of afterlife set in a spirit world.