Page 96 of D'Vaire or Nothing
“We don’t wish to speak the name of our former tribe,” Seltivare’s mother replied. “They aren’t a Council tribe, and we don’t know how things have changed, but we felt as if we had no choice but to leave. It wasn’t a simple choice. We left behind people we loved, but they believed in the old ways. Our tribe, like many, is ancient. It is or was led by a man who has ruled for thousands of years since his father died in some long-ago-forgotten war. Around him are advisors who are older than him or near his age. I believe strongly in tradition. It is part of my identity as an elf. But they are things we must adapt to if we are to survive. This was not understood by these elves.”
Seltivare’s father nodded. The woes of their former tribe weren’t news to Seltivare. His parents had been open from the start of his life about their origins, and he was happy they were explaining everything to Ashby and the other D’Vaires present. Especially Ashby. Seltivare wanted his mate to know everything about his family history, and to be a part of every aspect of his future.
“At first, the issues were small,” Vateltir said. “They’d kept to themselves but made the occasional trip to meet up with other tribes annually. For them, it was about trade. Not every elf was there for the same purpose, and it is understandable that they wanted to find their mates. But the ancients and ourchieftain were suddenly growing upset if those connections were made. They refused to allow newcomers in, and elves tearfully left our tribe without following the rules of rank. Normally, whether an elf stays or goes depends on their standing within the tribe. If your mate has a better rank, you follow them. Otherwise, they join your tribe. Not among our former people.”
“No, and families were angered. Imagine building your rank to keep your children close, only to find them lost to you if they met even the lowliest among another tribe,” Zolilara remarked. “For most elves, the main purpose of building favor with your chieftain is based on family. Something I can understand as a parent.”
“But you immediately assumed Selti was going to D’Vaire once you found he was Ashby’s mate, and in the next breath, asked if I could go too,” Mavizare interrupted.
“Ashby is titled, Mavi,” Zolilara explained. “It is within elven tradition that Selti would go with him, and as I explained to Ashby, I didn’t want my twins separated. Now, may I finish my tale?”
Mavizare tucked his chin in, and Seltivare nearly laughed at the way his brother tried to disappear into the sofa cushions. “Yes, Momma.”
“Children are a wondrous gift. Vateltir and I yearned for them for centuries, but no one warned me how much more difficult it would be to raise twins,” Zolilara complained.
Dra’Kaedan’s mother, Lichpriestess Saura D’Vaire, nodded as she scooped a thick chunk of blond curls off her shoulder and tossed it behind her. “Zoli, you and I need to share stories. The things my twins did. It’s a wonder they didn’t burn down our castle.”
“Not funny, Mom. The Cwylld elvesdidburn down the castle,” Dra’Kaedan retorted.
“My eldest is the Grand Warlock. Ruler of the Coven of Warlocks. He was also born many centuries ago. But he’s still an annoying brat. Now, Zoli, go ahead with your story,” Saura stated firmly as she eyeballed Dra’Kaedan, who nearly shrank into the couch like Mavizare.
Seltivare’s mother grinned and nodded. “Yes, so families grew sad about losing loved ones, and with that grief came rage. I wish I could say my family was on the right side of the quarrel, but my parents were ancients. So were Vateltir’s. At eighteen, we discovered we were mates, and it united two powerful families.”
“Our matebond ceremony took twelve hours,” Vateltir remarked dryly. “It was obnoxious. So much sitting around and forcing an entire tribe to pander to two scared children who’d met the previous day. I envisioned a life with Zoli already, but I couldn’t even talk to her. We feasted on countless trays of food the tribe could ill afford to splurge on. Watched dancers. Admired the works of artists and tradespeople. Spoke to everyone in the tribe. It was most absurd.”
“He also wanted kisses, and those were impossible with our parents sitting between us,” Zolilara commented with a laugh. “Anyway, Vateltir and I could finally be a couple, and we found our minds very much alike. Fate has paired us well. But I can’t say that Fate chose an outstanding leader as our chieftain. Now that his advisors were full of themselves, at the next gathering, an elf met her mate. She’d traveled on behalf of her family, but they had stayed at home. They did not allow her to return to say her farewells.”
“After that, anyone who met a mate outside our tribe was considered an abomination. Vile things were said about them and how unlucky they were considered by Fate,” Vateltir added. “But they couldn’t stop trading. Our land was worked to death and was no longer producing much. Elves were starving. Ourparents and the chieftain decided it was Fate’s will. The goddess decided who lived or died.”
“Can you imagine allowing little elves to perish because you are too lazy to learn new techniques or to rearrange the huts so new land can be used for crops?” Zolilara asked, fury darkening her gaze. “I had enough, and I told that chieftain exactly what I thought of his abhorrent rules. Then Vateltir and I marched out of there with our heads held high to start a new life on our own.”
“We had no choice, we would’ve been kicked out,” Vateltir said, sharing a wry grin with Seltivare’s mother. “But we were already packed. We wanted something different for ourselves and couldn’t watch a tribe suffer with us as an example of Fate’s perfection. Yes, Fate combined two souls perfect for each other in us, but she does that for many couples. That doesn’t mean they are less than us or that the combination of two tribes or pairing an elf with a druid-jaguar is anything but wonderful.”
“Hybrids are incredible,” Mavizare remarked. “Look at Elf. A hybrid of dragon and elf. Have you ever seen a person more beautiful?”
“Yes,” Seltivare said, boldly taking Ashby’s hand. “My mate is more handsome, and he’s a remarkable hybrid too.”
“Thank you, I was about to say the same about your beauty,” Ashby replied. To Seltivare’s delight, Ashby turned toward him with a smile, and Seltivare grabbed the opportunity to give him a quick kiss, which earned him a wink.
“Zoli, how did you and Vateltir survive?” Saura asked between bites of her strawberry.
“From the kindness of strangers,” Zolilara replied. “We went on a grand journey and met many elves. They were willing to give us some food, trade some things, or offer us some advice on our future. But not one of them suggested we join their tribe.We did not look like them. It wasn’t until the Tristis chieftain allowed us to take his name that we were settled again.”
“Not at ideal situation if Zoli and I are being honest,” Vateltir added. “The Tristis tribe has issues, and I hate to speak ill of Fate’s chosen, but neither chieftain that we’ve had ruling us has been concerned with the bettering of his people above himself. One of the reasons we are so happy that our sons are settled is because we thought it might be best for us to consider finding a new tribe.”
“You didn’t tell us that,” Seltivare exclaimed. “We would’ve been supportive of switching tribes.”
“Except now we’re D’Vaires,” Mavizare said. “And we kept Tristis because of the stupid names they gave us.”
Ashby laughed. “I didn’t even think about it until you said it. Seltivare D’Vaire. Mavizare D’Vaire.”
“It’s obnoxious,” Seltivare groused.
Dra’Kaedan snorted and bit his lip, apparently to hold in his chuckles, when his mother smacked his leg.
“His Majesty calls himself of the tribe D’Vaire,” Ashby pointed out. “What’s wrong with becoming D’Vaires too? I’m sure Mavi and Selti would love to have their parents stay with them.”
“I’m leaving off thezarepart of my name from now on,” Mavizare muttered.
