THE SHE-WOLF AND THE RAVEN
Chapter 15: Potlatch
It was wily Raven who originated the potlatch ritual feast. He invited all the animal chiefs to the beach in the Time of Beginnings, and when the tide pulled back, he pointed to the beachlife that was exposed and said, "Here's your feast!"
Thus, all who wish to be chief and make their names good must potlatch. To gather wealth and then give it away is to make one's name great.
But things have now changed from the old days. The wealth the old people used for potlatching is vanishing and the bounty of the shores are dwindling. Now the chief of the Quileute sits on the driftwood and calls out to Raven from the tideline.
"Go home, Raven! There's getting to be no wealth on the beach anymore. You will have to get a job in order to become a noble chief," he said. "If you wish to potlatch, your wealth will not come from the tide or the beach, but from a job."
Ooooo
When Leah was told they were going to a "feast," she wasn't quite sure what to expect.
"What kind of feast?" she asked when a woman with a head of white curls came to them with her arms full of shining bundles of clothes. She knelt before them when Leah opened the door and asked to come in to help them dress. Leah stared at the woman in bewilderment and wished, not for the first time that day, that Fenris had returned to them to help explain what exactly was going on.
He hadn't, of course. After some plainly dressed villagers came for her and the pups, they were settled in a small house near the fringes of the little town. The house bumped up against the forest and it was nestled away in a quiet corner where they were hidden from prying eyes, much to the relief of all. They all experienced their fill of curious stares and whispers for one day.
"Why did Dad tell us not to phase into wolf form here?" Sarah asked. "If these are his people, shouldn't they be able to phase as well?"
"Did he? I am not quite sure," Leah answered with a slight shrug. "However, I would tell you the same thing even back at LaPush. Not everyone we are related to know about the wolves and even fewer are able to phase themselves. My people think of it as a secret society that only a few are initiated into. So, at our family events, I wouldn't talk about wolf stuff or think of phasing unless I knew for certain only initiated eyes were on me. It's important to keep it secret so we are safe and can do our jobs keeping other people safe."
"So how many of Dad's family members can phase?" Sarah asked. She lay her head down on a pillow on the floor with her feet on the couch. Isaac sat nearby with all three small pups asleep on his lap and pressed up against his sides. All were weary, but the eldest pair's curiosity outranked their desire for rest.
"I don't know," Leah answered honestly. "All I know is you have an uncle and you will meet him later and your uncle is kinda in charge of this little town and so everyone looks up to him a lot…and by extension, they look up to your father as well."
Sarah's dark eyes considered this for a few moments in silence. "They looked at us funny," she finally said. "After you and dad left."
"What do you mean?"
Sarah shrugged and started curling the edge of her hair around one finger. "I dunno. When we walked with you both, everyone watched Dad. When you both left, they watched us, but in a different way. They are different than the Quileute."
"Yeah, they are," Leah answered. She rubbed her fingers against her temples, wishing Fenris would return soon so she could bombard him with questions of her own. It was a vain wish. Fenris did not come for them at all. Instead, they were met at the door by the white-curled woman who introduced herself as "Arta, handmaiden to the Queen of Asgard."
"The King has declared this evening be set aside for feasting and great merriment," she said as she began to arrange colorful dresses in a row across the back of the couch. "The Prince of Asgard has returned to us! I have been requested to tend to your family to ensure you are prepared for this time of great celebration!"
Leah gaped slightly as the woman held dress after dress up for her assessment and followed this with a box filled with jewelry, the likes of which she had never before seen. Even the three youngest were sent bejeweled collars and another handmaiden arrived to help bathe and groom each pup. She shouldn't have been surprised (but she still was) when a man came with another bundle of clothes and announced he would tend to the "young master Isaac."
When their attendants finished decorating her, Leah felt as gaudy as a Christmas tree and her reflection in the mirror showed the face of a stranger back to her. She grimaced slightly as the tight waist of the dress constricted her breathing and she caught the pointed look between handmaidens when she told them she carried no "ceremonial dagger" on her person.
When they were all wrapped up in yards of brightly colored fabrics, burnished armor, and row upon row of braided, coiled hair, then they were escorted to the what was called the "feasting hall." People dressed in similar styles of clothes, though not quite as richly or elaborately decorated, lined each street walking in a similar direction. The street lights overhead shone off their metal bracers, fine necklaces, swords, and embroidered garments. Isaac and Sarah were fascinated by the brightly colored mosaic of party-goers, but fidgeted in discomfort with their bracers and tight-fitted garments. The three pups stayed quietly at their sides, just as they were told. They gave Leah anxious glances and licked their lips as they experienced the greatest crowd of people so far in their young lives. Even from as far away as they were from the hall, the sound of musicians playing instruments unlike any Leah had ever heard drifted on the cold night breeze.
Leah would have called the setting "magical"…until they arrived.
Instead of a grand hall, they were ushered into the gymnasium of the local school. The bleachers and mats and hoops were all pushed to the sides of the room so the center of the room could be filled with mismatched plastic tables and chairs. Colored paper decorations hung from the ceiling and on the walls around the room. The room still smelled faintly of old sweat, though rows of fragrant candles did their best to subvert it and spread a spicy, citrusy fragrance into the gym of finely dressed people.
The focal point of all the tables and chairs was one long table in the front of the room, covered with a crimson velvet tablecloth and golden candelabra. The chairs behind it were carved wood, not plastic, and the table setting glistened with gold and crystal, unlike the masses of paper and plastic utensils she saw lining all the surrounding tables.
Men and women in plainer, more muted tones than the party attendees, bustled to and fro filling cups and platters and escorting guests to various tables. This continued until the hall felt full to bursting. Every chair was filled and through the open doors, Leah could see more tables set outside in the cobblestone street surrounding the school. Even these tables and chairs were filled to capacity.
In a rush, the chatter and noise of the hall extinguished and all eyes turned to the main set of doors as they opened.
"Lords and Ladies of Asgard, may I present the All-Father and All-Mother of the Realm Eternal, Rulers of the Nine Realms, the King Thor and Queen Sif," a herald announced from the podium set up behind the central table.
All in attendance knelt in solemn silence as the pair entered. Leah barely recognized the man as the same one she had met earlier in the day. His blonde hair was now combed and organized into braids beneath a glistening, winged helmet. A scarlet cape fluttered from his broad shoulders to his booted feet. His barrel chest was covered in dark silver and black armor. He carried his ax in one hand and a golden scepter in another, which he raised as he entered the center of the hall. At that, the crowd cheered and rose to their feet and the king's face broke into a brilliant smile.
At his side was the queen. In a midnight blue gown embroidered with what appeared to be some kind of opals and crystals, she radiated an ethereal beauty that drew the eyes of all in the room to her. She walked with all the grace of a queen as she escorted the king's more unsteady gait. It took a second glance before Leah knew her to be Fenris' companion of the afternoon.
"Is that them? Our aunt and uncle, I mean?" Sarah whispered to Leah.
"Yes."
"He doesn't look much like Dad," she remarked as she stared at them both.
"You don't look much like your brother, either," Leah answered and Isaac chuckled from the other side of her in response.
"Next, I present our guest of honor, the esteemed Prince Loki Odinson, Brother of the King and Prince of Asgard."
Fenris walked in a stately, confident manner through the center of the room. He was also dressed in full armor, horned helmet, and a jade cape which trailed along the well-worn floor. His emotionless face glanced around the room, but failed to respond to the sight of any face he came across with careful nonchalance. He joined the king and queen at the central table and sat beside his brother, overlooking the hall from their slight perch on the temporary dais.
"Why do they call him by a different name?" Sarah asked.
"He asked me to call him Fenris, but his family calls him Loki," Leah answered.
"Why isn't he smiling?" Isaac whispered.
"He's nervous."
It was one question she could easily figure out the answer to. His carefully hidden emotional state informed her that this feast was the last place on earth he wished to be at this particular moment and he was warring between filling a part and wishing he could disappear and seek solitude.
The day filled with so many reunions had not been easy on Fenris. She'd felt his various shades of turmoil wash over him throughout the day, despite all his attempts to squash his feelings beneath an impenetrable layer of indifference. His eyes scanned the room and when they fell upon Leah and the pups, he gave the faintest hint of a smile and a slight nod. She responded in kind, though Sarah, Isaac, and the three smallest pups at their feet broke into much broader, more unabashed smiles. He winked and his smile grew more genuine.
Though the royal family was permitted to sit, none of the others in the room were given the same liberty. The herald continued to welcome in a long list of variously titled individuals who all came in with similar fanfare and bustle. It was only after the last name was announced that they were all told to sit and be merry and that the feast would soon begin.
Leah pulled her yards of skirt around her as she sat in the worn old plastic chair. She wondered how many high school graduations and dances those chairs had seen and it almost seemed a shame to place her beautiful violet dress on it. Three small green cushions were arranged on the floor beside their table, each with pairs of bowls beside them. It took her most serious glare to keep the little pups from swallowing the food within them at once and to sit still and quiet. Their table, set off to one side of the gym, was for their family alone and no other guests were seated with them.
The king stood and raised his scepter again. With a slight tap of the brilliant metal against the wood floor, the room fell silent. He raised his crystal glass to the center of the room and cleared his throat as all eyes turned to him.
"Asgard, tonight we have cause for celebration, feasts, and revels," he said in a deep, resonant voice, still slightly slurred. "One we thought was lost has returned to us. Let us take heart in what we have gained and not dwell on what is lost. A toast - may Asgard experience many more such restorations."
A solemn stillness filled the room for a moment afterwards before one voice in the back of the room broke through like a pebble on thin ice. The gangly man in bronze armor lifted a sword towards the center of the room, placed his other hand over his heart, and began to sing out a song in a rich baritone in a language Leah had never heard. Soon, plastic chairs scraped as others stood and joined him until the entire hall reverberated with the heavy notes of the song.
Upon its somber end, another man gave a loud cry, clapped his hands together, and burst into another song as boisterous and full of cheer as the former had been sad and full of lament. With a chorus of cheers, the room joined in. Feet around the room tapped in time to a shared beat they all knew to a song they all had sung before.
The night progressed in a similar form. Between course after course of foods - some recognizable and some like nothing she had ever tasted - the room erupted with toasts, songs, dances, ballads, and poetry. As Asgardians stood to tell the "tale of my great-grandfather" or sing "the song of my kin from the second age," Leah wondered just how many millennia old their offerings were. If Fenris was (as he claimed) over two thousand years old, how old must the grey-haired elders be? How long ago did their great-grandparents live to compose their songs?
She could feel it all over again - her sense of an echo of a past now buried as dead, but still lingering in the cobwebs of memory of the living. She was again staring in awe at the gaping crater of Mount St. Helens. The people around her all faced in the same direction, giving homage to both their former home and the eruption that uprooted them. These people, proud and ancient, gathered to imitate what had once been and would never be again. Their finery and layers of meticulous etiquette only made the simplicity of their current circumstances all the more jarring.
They did not belong here and they knew it, but they had nowhere else to be.
Despite their laughter and projections of enjoyment, it was that same attempt at levity that unraveled the façade. They all knew it was a sorrowful celebration, a hollow fullness, an echo of a song that would never be played again, the lingering shadow of a dance which steps had ceased but would forever set the precedent for all future dances. All gathered shared a memory of what once was and it tainted all the shared air they breathed.
It was late in the evening, long after the tables and chairs were removed to make space for lines of dancing feet that Fenris came to join them. He looked weary and she could tell he was tired of his own heavy pretenses. He gave them all a guarded bow as he greeted them, though his eyes sparkled as they fell upon his children. He kissed Leah and Sarah each on the hand before clasping Isaac's forearm.
"You look well," he said to them. "Asgardian finery suits you."
Sarah grimaced. "It's heavy and uncomfortable," she said. "I prefer no clothes."
Fenris broke into a genuine laugh and dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Do not let the others hear, but I agree would agree with you…as would your mother."
Leah groaned and gave him a half-hearted glare. She was stopped from answering by the interruption of a booming voice behind her.
"Loki! Who do we have here? More guests of yours?" Thor said with a broad grin. He staggered over, his steps more unsteady than they had been upon his entry to the hall. He took Leah's hand and kissed it. "Lady Leah of the Land of Clear Waters, it is a pleasure to see your pleasing face again. Who are these young ones accompanying you?"
"Brother, allow me to present our children. Isaac and Sarah are the eldest. The young ones here are Tcâli, Kwoli and Báyak. Though you must forgive them as they look quite done in for the day," Fenris said as he motioned to where the three pups lay asleep on their cushions.
Thor gave the elder children a more appraising glance before his swung his head to his brother again. "Brother….Have I heard you right? These are your children?"
"Indeed."
"By blood?"
"No, Thor, by magic. Of course by blood."
Thor gave such a jubilant shout that all nearby paused to gawk at him before he threw his arms around his brother and then Isaac and Sarah. "A fine family, indeed, brother!" he gushed. "And you have puppies!"
"When they come of age they will shift forms, Thor," Fenris said in a slightly lower voice.
"You mean…they are as gifted as you in the arts of magic?"
"It would appear so."
Thor's laugh rumbled through his broad chest and he called out across the room to his wife. "Sif! Sif! You must come here! I'm an uncle! I'm an uncle!"
Fenris dropped his head into his hands and shook his head in embarrassment.
"Thor, the dwarves on Nidavellir's largest moon can hear you at that volume," he exhorted as the queen made her way towards them. She gave them a more subdued, dignified greeting as her dark eyes appraised them.
"We have little princelings and princesses now, Sif. What say you to that?" Thor said as he elbowed her against her armored side.
She shook her head and met Fenris' amused glance with one of her own. "It is grand, Thor. I am sure you will enjoy having some young ones around you again," she answered with a polite smile.
"Indeed. It helps the great oaf feel more at ease when he surrounds himself with those who are the age his actions most resemble," Fenris added.
Thor ignored his brother and instead took Leah by the elbow and motioned towards the colorful, swirling room of dancers forming rows and boxes in time to the music. She fought the instinct to step back as the overwhelming scent of alcohol still clung to him, though much improved from their first introduction.
"Has my brother taught you Asgardian dances yet, Lady Leah?" Thor asked her. She shook her head and Thor gave a reproachful glance over his shoulder to his brother. "How can you be so remiss an instructor when you have such a partner? I hope I do not embarrass you too much to congratulate you on finding such a lovely creature. She is truly a rare gem on Midgard."
"You will say that until she bests you on the battlefield, brother," Fenris answered wryly.
"Ah! And a warrior-maid at that? I will eagerly await my opportunity to be bested by your sword, good lady. It is no wonder my brother has built a home for himself on Midgard with one such as you to warm his bed," Thor said.
"You great oaf, stop embarrassing yourself and the lady and go do something kingly," Fenris said as he pushed his brother's shoulder.
"Lady Leah, would you honor me by accompanying me in this dance?" the King asked as he outstretched his hand. His one blue eye sparkled with such sincere warmth that Leah couldn't help but agree and take his hand.
Then Fenris followed suit and outstretched his hand for his daughter. "My dear Lady Sarah, allow me to escort you to the dance floor so you may test your skills at Asgardian feasting dances."
Sarah grinned broadly and took her father's hand. He led her to the floor and Leah could just make out his lips whispering instructions into her ear and her clumsy attempts to follow his much more graceful movements as they joined in the dance.
"Well, we've been left, Lord Isaac. What say you to joining me?" the queen asked and she laughed as Isaac's face flushed a brilliant scarlet. "Come, young one, no need to fear," Sif answered, softening slightly. "It is quite simple to learn and if you follow your father's example and smile just so, none present will notice if you stumble or miss a step."
Isaac managed to stammer an affirmative response, but he did not succeed in meeting her gaze when he made it.
oooooo
The moon rose high in the sky by the time the wolf pack walked to their little temporary home, each with a sleeping pup in their arms. Two men in full armor and swords accompanied them (at Fenris' command) after he kissed each on the forehead and bade them goodnight.
"You aren't coming?" Leah asked as she fought to not feel disappointment.
"I wish to make sure our king makes his way home undisturbed and then I will spend some time on my own," he answered.
She nodded. She understood. He genuinely longed for solitude and quiet to sort through his myriad of thoughts. She would not begrudge him that, even if she wished she could do more to help than simply grant him space.
"Be prepared to receive my brother in the morrow. I doubt even a herd of bilgesnipes would be able to keep him away now that he knows there are young ones about," Fenris said.
"We will be happy to get to know him better," she answered.
"Most are," Fenris answered slightly wistfully before he gave her a half-smile and turned away.
Oooooo
"I can't do it. It makes me have nightmares about being trapped in a box," Sarah said. The three little ones, slightly roused by the walk home, only whined and stared longingly out the back door and into the forest. Isaac shrugged and took himself outside, followed closely by the little ones.
"Fine," Leah answered, too tired to push them on it. "Sleep outside if you like it better. I'll be in the main bedroom here."
With the plentiful forest behind them, she knew they would be safe and hidden. She helped them undress and sent their weary bodies off to sleep before she sank onto the rather uncomfortable bed in the little house. It took her longer than it should have to try to figure out how to remove her Asgardian clothes. Were that many laces and buckles really necessary? She couldn't even try to take out her hair. She pulled on her pajamas and let the darkness and quiet of the room cover her mind in the same way the woolen blanket covered her body.
Sleep never came. She knew it could partly be blamed on her own need to sift through all the last twenty-four hours had thrown her way, but she knew part of it was caused by Fenris. She felt his absence as keenly as she felt the deep internal drive to seek him out and tear him from his solitude. While any kind of physical separation from him rankled their bond and made a hollow ache within her chest grow and grow, it was her insight into his emotions which kept her awake now.
Throughout the day, she felt him experience the full gamut of his emotions - from grief to guilt to relief and then insecurity to amusement and pleasure. She thought she was used to the tumultuous tides of his vibrant, hidden inner world, but being "home" had cracked open vast underground caverns that he only ever let himself dwell on during his dreams.
It was not long after she lay down that he took her off guard again. She was not prepared for the avalanche of lust that cascaded over him like a bullet train. It was deeper than just lust and tainted with the deep-rooted lingering remnants of emotional attachment, desire, and a long vanquished hope for admiration. She knew that particularly potent recipe of heartbreak as intimately as if the emotions were hers and not his. She could barely breathe as she wondered what (and who) had so inspired him.
She could not hold his emotions against him. He had neither asked for her heart nor pledged his to her and for all intents and purposes, he was not hers. She was the parasite the plagued him, the trap that ensnared him, the burden he wished he could free himself from and that knowledge caused her own well of unbidden tears to bubble up from the hollow ache in her heart and into her pillow.
When dawn broke through the small window beside her bed, she gave up on sleep entirely and went on a walk through the quiet town. In the eastern sky, the rose and violet veils slowly lifted and were replaced by golden rays, swallowing up the remaining morning stars. She made her way to a rocky path along the bluffs overlooking the ocean. She sat to watch as the grey waves slowly turned turquoise and then deep sapphire as the sun rose higher and higher above the land.
The deep blue sky over the ocean was a sight rarely observed from the perennially cloud-covered First Beach. She watched the small ripples reflect the sun like shards of broken light. The fishermen's boats could just be seen in the horizon as they made their dawn run into the deeper ocean. From their boats, they threw their square fish traps over the side and into the waves below and it was those familiar actions which made her feel more at home than she had yet.
She understood the call of the ocean more than she understood court etiquette and royal lineages. Within the salted waves, she could feel the push and pull of invisible currents tugging around the shores and out into the fathomless depths. Even these alien people, so ancient and from a world so different from her own, were not immune to its currents. They had their own fish nets, both old and new, which could pull them under the waves. They were not so strong as to be impermeable to their own pasts or to escape unhindered by unresolved griefs.
She knew how tangled and complicated those fish nets could be.
She had once thought how grateful she was that her imprint was an uncomplicated, unencumbered wolf. She couldn't have been more wrong. She simply came upon him during a season when he wished to rid himself of the call of his ocean and pretend he did not have to deal with what he would find beneath the waves. It was his turn to pull up the old fish nets and decide if he would drink from these waters or if he would run from them and drown himself in his own desire to escape what he feared to find in the rip tides.
Oooo
Author's Notes:
Raven and Potlatch is my very loosely paraphrased and rewritten adaptation of the tale told by anthropologist Jay Powell (2003) from the Coastal Watershed Institute's 2004 article entitled "'When the Tide is Out' An Ethnographic Study of Nearshore Use on the Northern Olympic Peninsula."