They had encountered each other, but never really met. So today, Maite got up and put on her plainest white cotton tunic and breeches, decorated only with a little shell design around the neckline in a pale ivory, cinched at the waist with a cord. She felt sick from the anticipation, but could hardly hope it was the sort of sickness that heralded a pregnancy. That would be too much to wish for. Ekain had visited her only infrequently, and as much as she wished for it, it would be a long, hard road to acceptance--even if she did have his heir; for in that case, Miren would probably resent her anyway.

She cleaned her teeth in the river with a twig and looked at her reflection for a long time, even though she knew it was vain. Then she plaited her hair into two short braids, one on either side. With her high-necked tunic and her plaited hair, she looked almost like a man, or a little girl, her breasts practically hidden under the cloth. She smiled, her jainko buzzing happily and a little uneasily inside of her.

That was good. She would make a good impression on Miren this way.

She made her way back to the longhouse and wandered through the center of it, trying to recall where Miren's hearth was. It wasn't easy to find amidst this maze, but at last she was there; it was marked with Miren's jainko, the spirit of the Dog. She almost snorted. Dog spirit was very unlucky--maybe that was why Miren couldn't have children. She pushed her head through the curtain of beads and called out politely,

"Miren, this is Maite. I though you might want to go out and pick some early peaches with me, or set a few rabbit snares."

It had been a long and restless night for Miren, laying alone and awake, unable to sleep. Her zakur spirit had been unwilling to settle down and she was feeling the effects of it that morning. She was in the midst of dressing and preparing herself for the day when she head Maite's voice from outside her beaded curtain She suppressed a sigh and quickly pulled her tan coloured dress over her head before answering Maite's call.

She had not had much opportunity to speak to Maite since her integration into the group. Ekain had spoken little of her but had spent his time making her feel comfortable, a task she could understand the hardship of. When Miren had married Ekain it had been a relatively smooth transition, but she had heard that Maite was a widow, which could make it a more difficult situation for her to accept.

Spreading the bead curtain, she exited and smiled at Maite, seeing her in an outfit that was more conservative than Maite seemed to be known for. "Of course I would enjoy an outing with you" she said kindly, although inwardly all she wanted was to sleep.

Mentally, she ran through a list of provisions for the camp. "Perhaps peach picking would be best this morning." she suggested, not only due to the fact that they could always use more fruit, but also that she would not be focused enough to properly set snares.

She grabbed two baskets that had been sitting outside her hearth, and offered one to Maite. She wanted to be friendly and get to know her fellow emazte, but was unsure of how to go about it. Maite was a bee, and although they were industrious creatures they also had stings. "Tell me Maite, how have you been settling in?" she asked, deciding to settle on a slightly personal but unintrusive question to start off their conversation.

Maite smiled at what seemed like genuine kindness from this woman. So she couldn't be like a jealous zakur, snapping at her because she had intruded on her territory! No--it seemed she was the jealous one. Smoothing her face into a pleasant expression despite this troubling thought, she took one of the baskets and held it against her waist, slinging its cotton strap over her head so that the basket would remain hanging at her side.

"Oh, I think I've been settling in... fine," she said, ducking her head a little and backing up to permit Miren out after her. As they walked through the longhouse, she glanced about at the bewildering profusion of hearths. "There are only so many more people than I'm used to... and of course, I've never been a third wife before. And I am used to living with more space. In my tribe we stay in tents, near the horses." She missed her horses, too. Of course they weren't really hers. Even the one she had ridden here on had been taken away: he was the property of her father.

Still. There was nothing she could do about it, so she would try to leave her worries behind her. And she would see Ekainz very soon, if he was brought to the Midsummer Gathering. As they made their way outside, she had to squint against the sudden bright light. The sun seemed to rise so early, and she had been up late again, worrying, so they were off to a later start than usual.

"I think I saw some peach trees that way," she said, pointing north-west. "But you know the region better. It was on a hillside?" She made a vague motion, trying to get the topic of conversation off her and back to peaches.

Mirroring Maite's motions, Miren slung the basket over so that it hung in the area of her hip. She couldn't help but noticing the more prominent protrusion of Maite's basket, but refrained from commenting or letting the burning feeling in her stomach make itself known. It was her duty as first wife to make everyone feel welcome, and focusing on differences between herself and Maite would do her no good.

She nodded in agreement with Maite's statement, remembering how frightening it had been for her entering the central camp. "I lived similarly before coming here." She chose not to mention her marriage to Ekain, not wanting to make the situation awkward. "It does take some getting used to, but I'm sure you will soon feel at home here."

She ran a hand through her hair and made a small noise, thinking about the season and the best places to collect. "Yes, we should go that way. The peaches should be ripened there by now." It was difficult at first learning the new surroundings, but now she knew the lands around the longhouses better than her own home.

Looking over at Maite, she couldn't help but feel a mix of sympathy and resentment. She was pretty, Miren decided, and pleasant to be around. She obviously had attributes Miren didn't, and the insecurity she felt at that thought was unpleasant. Having to compete with Nekane was a battle within itself, and she wasn't sure she had the extra energy to put towards Maite as well. Miren kept her silence and continued walking, refusing to let her foul mood ruin a perfectly good day.

"Oh, good." Maite smiled and set off walking that way, moving slowly in order to take in her surroundings and recall where she was going, though she let the more knowledgeable Miren lead the way. The surroundings were pretty... but everything was stripped more bare than they were at home, she thought sadly. With more people it was inevitable that they would fell more trees, and that their horses would eat more grass, but living in it felt dirty somehow. Not quite right.

They walked past fenced-in barley fields, then the open land where their horses grazed. She couldn't wait to ride one of her husband's horses. He had so many--but she didn't think she had each one that was his memorized yet, and lived in terror of accidentally using the horse of someone else's husband, which was not allowed, or a horse favored by Miren... or worse, Nekane. So she had stayed away.

"Oh! Later--" she said, glancing at Miren. "Later, might we go and find a horse I could ride? I'm so worried I'll pick one I'm not allowed on, but I love riding." She gave a little smile at the other woman. "Do you like to ride?"

Thus far she was staying carefully polite, trying to get along with the other woman. After all, they were both Ekain's wives. So she'd do much better forming a bond with her than not, and if Miren was her friend, she might make others.

They walked through the camp, Miren taking the time to wave to a few people as they made their way past the grazing fields. She hadn't thought of a horse for Maite, but she knew that it was one of the first things she asked when first arriving. She barely remembered any of the horses back home, but she knew the memory must have been far closer for Maite and she hoped to distract her. Riding was a common activity for her, although she seemed to have less and less time to enjoy it. “I love to ride.” she said wistfully, as horses always made her think of Ekain.

She pointed towards a small palomino, with a soft golden coat and solid white mane. She had immediately fallen in love with the horse when she first arrived and had been riding it ever since. “I usually ride her, but you are welcome to take your turn.” Truthfully she didn't really want Maite to ride her mare, but in the spirit of fairness and friendship she made the offer. Horses were a point of pride in Ekain's household, and she didn't want to disrupt the pattern her, Ekain, and Nekane had established.

She motioned vaguely to another two horse further out in the fields. “Those are Ekain and Nekane's preferred horses.” she said the statement somewhat flatly as she registered the irony of Nekane and Ekain's horses being together and separate from hers.

There were a few other horses that she though might be suitable for Maite, perhaps a little more spirited than one she herself would ride. “I am unsure what you look for in a horse, but there are a few you might like to ride later.” Miren always associated people's personalities with the horses they rode, and she would be interested to see what Maite ended up choosing.

They walked a little further past the open fields until they reached a cluster of peach trees. They bore a relatively large amount of ripe fruit and Miren immediately started to pick them, albeit going a little slower than she normally would have. She was trying to be friendly and polite, but the awkwardness she felt at spending time with another of Ekain's wives was hard to look past.

"Oh, no, I wouldn't want to take your horse." Maite ducked her head and waved away the suggestion. And she, too, read accurately the eloquence of Nekane and Ekain's horses standing in such proximity. It was clear who the favored wife was, but Miren was still the first wife, and it was clear that Ekain loved her too. Maite--well, there was nothing of love about that, nothing at all. It was expediency, and she even let herself think... what if it weren't the wives who were the problem? Maybe Ekain's seed could produce no heirs. It would mean long, miserable years of castigation for her, if that were the case. Almost, she wished--

"Yes, later," she agreed, cutting off this train of thought and following Miren to the peach grove. She tugged at a low branch, swinging herself up into the broad fork of the tree, which branched like two spread legs. Clambering hand-over-hand out to the edged of a branch, she tugged at one of the ripe fruits, tucking it into her basket. It wasn't quite ready, still a little green, but if she kept it in a warm, dry place, it would soon be ready to eat.

She took a seat at the edge of the thick branch, her legs swinging down on either side of it as though she were riding a horse. Maite had always done this as a child and would never tire of tree-climbing, even though she'd once fallen and broken an arm. That had raised her regard for shamans. She remembered how badly it had hurt, and how suddenly that had stopped. Surely a shaman would mend Miren's infertility, or Ekain's, and then... well, then there would be no need for her.

"Have you always lived here in the Central Camp?" She peered down at Miren, lying along the branch, her face pillowed on its smooth bark. "I come from near the ocean. We don't have many peach trees where my tribe stays."

Miren watched furtively as Maite climbed into one of the peach trees and began picking. She had never been fond of tree-climbing as a child, always too cautious to properly partake, but Maite seemed like a natural. She picked a few peaches from the lower branches, checked them carefully before placing them in her basket. Suppressing a yawn with her hand, she looked up to properly speak to Maite.

“I was born in further fields away, my father is a tribe leader near the borders.” She absentmindedly grabbed at another peach, thinking of her family. Her father and mother were getting older, and Amets was likely deep in his training to fulfill their father's post. She missed her parents and her brother, but the faces of da'Ekain had become more familiar.

“I was very young when I married, so I think of the Central Camp as home.”She remembered vividly how Ekain used to ride through his lands. Their fathers had been close, and they had ample opportunity to meet with each other. She wondered how Ekain had met Maite, for they had never spoken of it. She decided it would be rude to ask, but at the same time she was mildly curious about their relationship.

Miren wondered about Maite's home more than she did about her own. She had never traveled very far, and the ocean seemed like a strange and different place. “Tell me of your home. What is the ocean like?”

Maite shifted a little, feeling the treebark warm beneath her skin. The branch dug into her breasts and stomach a little uncomfortably, but she didn't want to move, only lay where, breathing in the scent of fresh leaves and ripening fruit. She watched Miren.

"Near the border? That must have been frightening." Miren would have been a child, of course, during the Wars. That had been fifteen years ago; Maite herself could remember only vague tales of retreat. Her tribe had always stayed near the ocean, past the border the interlopers had carved into da'Eguzki. But the horror stories she had heard since, of tribes flight from the invaders, felt carved indelibly into her memory. "Did your tribe have to move when the interlopers came? I'm sorry," she added hastily, apologetic. "If it brings anything up."

She looked down, then up again, and tried to change the subject, since Miren had asked. "My home is amazing," Maite said quietly, closing her eyes and imagining she could smell and taste the ocean. "We could go swimming when we liked, and the water is so buoyant, you can float with no effort. And sometimes the hunters would go out in their catamarans and catch huge fish, the kind with the horn on their head and tasty white flesh... but just living by the sea..." She paused to take a long breath, as though inhaling its scent. "It is like the sky, as vast as the sky... but it is also another world... I always wished my spirit would be the Sea, when I was a child," she admitted. "Anyway, what I miss most about home is my son, but--" That was tactless, mentioning that she had a child while Miren was barren. "--that's not important." She went back to tracing patterns on the bark with one finger, sure she had pressed he conversation into awkwardness once again.