Sibling protection
Autumn had come and nearly changed into winter. Soon the first night frost would come, meaning that thicker clothes were in need of being made.
"Miriwë? How are the sewing lessons going?" asked one parent as she passed by outside the large weaving hut. Right now Miriwë was holding lessons for the children in the tribe who were old enough to sew without messing up too badly.
"No need to worry, everything's going well over here," he smiled in response, nodding to the Elflings to hold up the pieces they had been training their sewing on. Since he had suggested they take inspiration from the nature around the camp, many showed images of a tree or even an attempted portrait that looked fairly uneven.
"All right, I was just wondering."
Miriwë understood her inquisitiveness, as some of the Elflings could be more difficult in training than their peers. It was mostly because of their personalities and not neglectful parents, which was not accepted at all in their tribe. If a couple found out that they were unable to care for a child properly for some reason, they were expected to ask relatives for help. Separating a child from the birth parents was not acceptable, unless it was for either the child's or the parents' best. The tribe lived or died by the proper raising of children.
"What do you youngsters say about a small break and taking a quick wash in the river? Summer heat can be pretty troublesome, don't you agree?"
Several joyful cheers greeted him as answer. Telling some of the parents where they would be going, Miriwë led the Elflings out from the camp towards the river.
~X~X~X~X~X~X
The river water was blessedly cold in the summer heat. Keeping an eye on the Elflings, Miriwë gently scolded some of the boys for almost holding down each others under the water while he helped a younger girl to wash her thick hair.
"No fighting, I would rather not have to explain to your parents why you nearly drowned during my watch."
Thankfully, the boys obeyed his order and apologized to each others.
"Lord Miriwë, is it true that you are so beautiful that females from other tribes actually have tried to kidnap you as a possible mate?"
"Yes, sadly that is true. It is why Beril rarely allows me to leave the tribe without anyone coming along. She means well, and while I can fight and defend myself very good now as a adult, I can still be taken by surprise if someone manages to outsmart me," he confessed while he checked on his handiwork, making sure the braid was set in its place. A loud yell of pain from the shore was heard, from a small boy who had been unlucky enough to step straight on a ground-dwelling wasp. Ordering the other children up from the water, Miriwë went up on the shore to check on the crying boy. Thankfully, the wasp had not strung him too deeply in the sole of his foot, but he would need to be checked over by the tribe shamans in case of a possible infection.
"Come, we will dress and go back to camp so this youngster can get check…"
Miriwë stopped talking at the sound of hooves coming closer. Given that the tribe had made some obstacles in order to prevent the horses from being attacked and to protect their flax plants from hooves, he realized that it must be a stray horse not belonging to their herd.
"Get out of the way, stray horses can be…!"
Suddenly Miriwë felt someone lay an arm around his waist, pulling him up on the horse as the rider rode past the group of children.
"Miriwë!"
"Let go of Miriwë!"
The Elflings was nowhere as fast as they would have needed to run after the horse, but they could alarm the adults about the kidnapping and that they did.
"LAAAAAADY BEEEERIL! Miriwë's kidnapped!"
Miriwë was no stranger to kidnapping attempts by unknown She-elves who acted out of blind lust after him as a possible mate. It had happened several times before, and he even knew of a case where the female actually had been banished from her tribe as a result of trying to force him into becoming her mate. The rider was that She-elf.
"Did you not learn your lesson last time," he protested, "with my sister nearly killing you and being banished from your tribe!? I will not become your mate!"
Pulling out a small flint dagger he had hidden on his thigh so that it were concealed by his knee-long tunic, Miriwë stabbed her arm so she was forced to let go of him in the unexpected pain. He was no stranger to falling off a horse in high speed since trying out his first horse a long time ago, so he simply rolled along the ground to lessen the impact.
"Do not play with me! As the brother of a tribe leader, you are the highest-ranking male of that tribe unless she takes a mate herself! I want a handsome father to my children, not some common man!"
Again Miriwë mentally cursed that females were mostly drawn to him for his exotic appearance rather than for any other features, and tried to avoid getting dragged back up on the nervous horse from the ground by her, since the horse seemed to be rather unused to have a rider on its back. Granted, a single flint dagger was not much of a weapon but at least he proved to be a quick thinker in that he scurried up into a tall apple tree to escape her.
"Get back down here!"
As response, Miriwë proved a somewhat childish thinking in bombing her with some still unripe apples from top of the apple tree. Why not use what he had at hand, rather than wasting time in hope that help would come quickly?
"I choose my own mate when I want to, and that is not you! Get that into your thick skull for once and stop trying to force me into a mating I do not want unless you want Beril to put you to death when she learns of this!"
Miriwë was serious in his threat, it would not be the first time Beril had needed to kill someone to stop a kidnapping attempt on him and he was not fully sure if he could manage to kill someone in cold blood. He could not be as calm like her in such moments, the two siblings shared a agreement over that.
"Hands off my brother!"
Beril honestly looked ready to kill where she came riding with her best fellow riders behind her own horse, she had that aura whatever she found orcs to kill or when her brother was in serious danger out of his own control. Sure, his silver hair up in the tree top told her that Miriwë had managed to partly escape and at least gotten out of reach for the other female, but that did not mean that she would escape punishment. This was the second time she had tried to kidnap Miriwë in order to force him into becoming her mate against his will, and for that she would pay with her life. Few would accept someone who had been banished from the home tribe for a serious crime.
"Miriwë, get back home to the camp, I need to teach this fool a lesson."
Since his sister now was between the apple tree and the other She-elf, he could climb down and get up behind one of the other riders to ride home to the camp. It was unnecessarily that Miriwë would have to see a brutal execution when Beril was in this mood.
~X~X~X~X~X~X
At the same time, Ingwë had been forced with deal with another complaint about that the Vanyar needed a bigger space in the camp for the growing families. As a result, they had moved a bit further away from the Noldor and Teleri camps in the hope of not getting too close for discomfort.
"I do hope that Finiel and Elwë find their future mates soon. They have never refused to speak to each other longer than seven wake-periods at the highest. I think that quarrel hit them harder than planned, so for them to not have spoken together in over six times ten wake-periods… granted, Elwë likely needed to do that journey he is still out on in order to get rid of some stream resulting from that quarrel, but I am not liking how it currently looks for my two friends..."
It worried him a lot. Had their friendship reached a such low bottom that it would be impossible to be actual friends again out of wounded pride?
"Ingwë!"
The sudden voice behind him caused Ingwë to nearly drop the small bowl with soft-boiled pieces of pear he was trying to feed Ingwion with the help of a large scallop shell as spoon, much to the joy to his young son who now tried grab the spilled food in his tiny fists in order to eat with his hands instead. Even with a small fur blanket on the ground to prevent the food from getting dirty, Ingwë knew that his son would end up messy no matter what he did now.
"Not the best timing to arrive, Vanië. I would have liked you to wait until that Ingwion had finished his meal, now he will not eat the last pieces," Ingwë said while calmly avoiding to be hit with a half-mashed pear piece his son threw at him. Despite his new duties as chief of the Vanyarin Clan, he still tried to spend time with his family as he did not want them to feel that he was neglecting them. Vanië snorted in dismissal over what her older brother had said, not really bothering to listen to him. Being at least one-hundred winters younger than him, she had never truly gotten a real sibling-relationship with Ingwë because he had already been a adult and moved out from the family hut when he had joined Isilmiel in a mating ceremony just two seasons before the reveal that his mother was pregnant with her second child.
"It is almost another winter season coming, and no mate in sight this time!"
Oh great, another one of her rants about not finding a mate yet and refusing to listen to his suggestions in that she may need to change her behaviour for a better chance. Ingwë mentally tried to block out the voice of his sister as Ingwion now needed to get his hands and face cleaned from the mashed food. He was still only learning to talk and walk with support, but clearly intending to try to do things himself.
"Aya, aya!" Ingwion grinned, shrieking in joy as Ingwë used a wet linen cloth piece to wash off his face and hands.
~X~X~X~X~X~X
By now, Miriwë had been brought back to the tribe camp and given an herbal drink from the shamans which would help him calm down his nerves from this event.
"It is attempted forced matings like this… having to always be on my guard, which only shows even more that I need to find a mate soon… if I had the markings of having a mate, maybe I finally would not have to worry about this to happen…" he confessed in a slightly shaking voice, revealing the shock over the attempted kidnapping. Miriwë did not know the exact numbers it had happened, but it was enough many to leave deep emotional scars along with a long-lasting trauma.
"And even if you are strong, you would need a strong female mate to help you stop this kind of danger if you are unable to protect yourself for some reason. You have been injured at times too," one of his friends said, sitting down beside Miriwë before laying a hand on his shoulder as support. He nodded, recalling how he had ended up with a dislocated shoulder and a broken ankle once just because of a such attempted kidnapping. Beril had freaked out when she had seen his injuries, in fact the whole tribe had done that. Miriwë had never doubted that due to inventing sewing and weaving to create better clothes, he meant a lot to their tribe and it was at times like this that it was proven more than ever. They all accepted that he would need to find a mate eventually, but he was pretty sure that it would be a hard task for that She-elf to prove herself worthy in the eyes of the tribe.
"And knowing everyone, I doubt that they would accept anyone who may try to challenge Beril over the title as tribe leader…"
As the brother of the tribe leader, Miriwë was the highest-ranked male in the tribe until that Beril found a mate of her own.
~X~X~X~X~X~X
Once Beril had executed the other She-elf, the event becoming a lot more bloody and out-drawn than planned due to her anger born out of worry for her brother and the other female Elf having made resistance, she knew that she could not show up in the camp with blood all over herself and her clothes.
"I better wash off, or the mothers will scold me for scaring the Elflings."
Now, blood on the body was not an uncommon sight in the tribe, but there was some lines better not crossed, even if you were the tribe leader. It was one thing if it was happening while slaughtering the prey that they had killed during the hunt or injuries from accidents, but a whole different thing if it was done without thinking because of poor control over their feelings. Self-discipline was an important part of their culture, and for a good reason as well. Someone who acted without thinking ahead tended to get themselves killed with time. Beril knew four cases of such Elves from her tribe, all who had ended up killed thanks to their own actions in some way.
Finding a nice spot in the river below a large willow tree, Beril stripped out of her clothing and stepped down in the water. Rubbing the blood off her linen tunic, she hopped that Miriwë would not complain too much at seeing that one of the sleeves had been torn. He hated when clothes, so carefully made with his own hands, got ruined thanks to a careless movement or on purpose.
"We both can be pretty fussy over things when it is something we can not stand…"
Suddenly, she heard something behind her, a dry branch breaking under a much bigger weight. Using what she had, Beril sent her wet tunic flying into the bushes after throwing it around her head like she would had done with a sling.
"Ow!"
A voice, following after a hit, revealed itself to be male. Had one of the youngsters tried to peek on her again? There had been some silly bet about it earlier in the summer, quickly vanishing after that she had shown her displeasure over it. Grabbing her spear as she rushed out from the river along with a long bone hairpin normally used to set up her braided ponytail, Beril tossed the spear first. Whoever the male Elf was, he was forced to move out of the spear's way and thus was unprepared when she suddenly grabbed his wrist and threw him over her head. It was not an easy task, seeing that he was much taller than herself. Though she did use the hanging branches of the willow tree to move away from the spot where he landed in the river. In the same spinning movement, she used her cloak to cover herself up.
"That height and silver hair seems oddly familiar from the summer when we visited the other clans…" she thought just as he returned to the surface, looking ready to kill.
The sounds of the splashing sounds, following after their new leader's sudden yell in surprise from a small distance away, had surprised the small group of Elves he had been travelling with.
"Did he slip on a spot of mud?" one of them asked, stopping as he was about to lay down the small pile of branches he had gathered for the fire.
"More like hitting his head on a tree branch thanks to that height of his, it is several weeping willows around here."
Nods and words in agreement, Elwë's unusual height was already infamous, much to his own distaste due to the jokes that his height would maybe a hint to that he was unusually well-formed on other parts of the body as well.
"Though...what if he is injured? I better go and check on him," one of the warriors spoke as he rose to look where Elwë was. He was stopped by several hands grabbing hold of the cloak he was wearing.
"No, no! Lord Elwë would not want to be seen by someone right now if he fell into the river for some reason. He thinks it is embarrassing to be seen with wet clothes on."
It was a few raised eyebrows over that Elwë would fuss over something which happened every time it rained, but no one else commented on it.
Elwë learned pretty quickly in the hard way that despite his taller height, Beril was more used to fighting not only orcs and wild animals, but also her fellow Elves. It was not for nothing that she had earned the epithet of "Spear Lady" as a sign of deep respect for her fighting skills with a spear. As a result, he found himself knocked once more under the surface thanks to getting a non-fatal hit with the round end of her spear straight on his forehead.
"That better teach you to not try and sneak up on someone as they washed." Beril said with her back against the river, as Elwë glared at her but did not dare to get up more than his head above the surface. Two forced landings into the river was enough.
"As if I even wanted to look on any bathing Elf right now…" Elwë muttered for himself below the surface so she did not hear, yet carefully tried to move alongside the water flow in order to get away from her. Thankfully, Beril was too busy in getting up on the back of her horse to notice, though her wet tunic had twisted very tightly around her upper body so her female form was slightly accentuated.
~X~X~X~X~X~X
Naturally, Beril was in a less than pleasant mood at returning back home to the camp, though everyone thought it was over nearly getting her younger brother kidnapped in that manner.
"Where is Miriwë?" she asked, taking a offered water skin and drinking some of the water inside before giving it back. She was pointed towards the weaving hut, meaning that he likely tried to deal with the attempted kidnapping in his own way; by either weaving or sewing to focus his mind on something which pleased him.
"I will be with him, he will need it," she said while taking a warmer cloak made of wolf fur.
Indeed Miriwë was inside the hut, but the way his hands created a mess out of the wool instead of actually spinning it into a fine thread as he normally would do told her about his current state of mind. He would most likely not be in the best of moods for the next coming awake-periods. This attempted kidnapping had been dangerously close separate them from each other forever; Miriwë would rather try to kill himself at the earliest opportunity than living with a female who had taken him as a mate against his will.
"Little brother?"
He did not answer, but moved slightly aside to give Beril room to sit down beside him. Before doing so, she placed the wolf cloak over his shoulders and around his body.
"Your hands are trembling," she observed. "You need to become warm in order to calm down."
Beril nodded to one of his young students to tie up the two animal skins in the doorway, which used to be rolled down as a closing of the doorway of the hut, so it could be more light inside. Even if the starlight did not reach in so deep, the light from the many campfires did.
"Do not shut yourself in away from others, Miriwë. How would we know what is wrong, if we can not see you and possibly help?" she smiled, to which he returned a small, sad smile. At least, he seemed less upset for the moment and that was good enough for now. As different as they were in personality, the two siblings could court on each other trying to help out when the other needed it. And with what had happened today, Miriwë needed Beril as emotional support.
"Who wants salmon? We got a nice, huge catch today, so let's feast!" one of the tribe fishermen suddenly called out aloud, as he and his fellow fishermen returned with what they had managed to catch in the deeper parts of the river.
"What do you say, Miriwë?" Beril asked. "Some salmon for dinner tonight?"
Later after a pleasant dinner, the two sibling took a short ride on their horses to get rid of some stress from the events of this wake-period. Both were fine riders, capable of riding bareback without any fear of falling off. Their horses were used to them since being foals several summers back, making it easier to handle them.
"A good ride always cleanses the mind of unpleasant things before it is time for sleeping."
"Indeed."
In fact, Miriwë had a more happy glow in his grey eyes now. It was in moments like this that they seemed to shine extra bright, responding to his various emotions. No one else in the tribe had that light in their eyes, even if all Elves were born with some of the distant starlight in their eyes unlike any of the animals. The shamans believed it to be a sign of that he may have an important fate in the future, though they had yet to catch any hints of what kind of fate it was. They had also hinted to that Beril could possibly become linked to the fate of an leader for one of the bigger Elven Clans, but if it was as a future mate or thought friendship, was harder to say.
"No matter what happens in the future, we will remain brother and sister all our lives. A family can be torn apart for so many different reasons, but that is a fate I do not wish to happen to us two, not after the way we lost our parents. Let's promise that no matter what kind of mates we will end up having, we will not allow them to separate us."
To show how serious he was, Miriwë offered Beril his open hand from where he was riding. She responded with taking it without a word, silently agreeing with him over this.
~X~X~X~X~X~X
Author's note: It is unfortunate that sexual harassment actually happens to men as well, not just women. Double standards about men and women in such situations can be a double-egged sword, affecting their behaviour and view on the event in question. The scene with Elwë and Beril was inspired by the ending 15 minutes in the 44th episode of the Chinese series Princess Agents.