Long Lost Leaves - part II

[Aikanáro]

A Princess? Tabrîl blinked, not having the slightest idea what might have given Barufiniel that impression. She was nothing of the sort. Royalty was an invention of the Elves of the West. They did not understand the role of an in'kasha, and they named Khaisel Queen of the Kindi, which was the closest they could come to the truth. But as for Tabrîl herself...

All of a sudden Barufiniel's meaning became clear to her, and Tabrîl blushed at the utter inappropriateness of it.

'No,' she told her, looking a little alarmed. 'No, that is not it at all. I am only m'had'i. I am not important. I am the daughter of my in'kasha as we all are her sons and daughters. She is the Mother of the Kindi.' Tabrîl was embarrassed by such a conversation, such a mistake on Barufiniel's part. The in'kasha was the keeper of the Mysteries, she was sacred, and that Tabrîl might be her daughter in the way the other elf meant? It was unthinkable.

[Varnafindë]

Another similarity to the M'nak people, Barufiniel thought. They, too, often called their King 'Father'. Of course, with the large number of children the M'nak king had, large parts of the people might really be blood relations to the King to some degree - in fact, this was often the cause of struggle for power between families in the M'nak society. Again, though, they were mortals ...

"I understand," Barufiniel said. "I have seen other societies - far away - with a similar custom. Your in'kasha is the Mother of all her people, then, not only of the children she's given birth to."

She sighed.

"But then I understand even less why Radagast would put enchantments on you."

[Aikanáro]

'It was not Radagast that did it,' Tabrîl muttered, 'and you do not understand.' She stood then, swiftly, and slipped the knife she held back through the loop on her belt.

'If you understood,' she continued, giving Barufiniel a harsh look, 'you would not insult my in'kasha as you do.' The words were ones of ignorance and not of malice, she thought, but insults still they were, and she could not allow them. To suggest outright that Khaisel might have borne children, of her own body? Tabrîl hardly knew how to answer something so inappropriate. Once she might ignore it, but not twice.

'My in'kasha,' she said slowly, 'keeps to tradition. She is counted among the wise, and she keeps the Mysteries and that which is Holy. She takes no shirikabi. She bears no children. To suggest anything else is is to insult her gravely and that I must not tolerate. Is it clear to you?'

[Varnafindë]

Now I've really gone and done it, Barufiniel thought. We were gradually getting on fairly well, if my impression was correct - and now I've insulted her gravely.

She stood as well, slowly, trying to understand what had happened.

Tabril's Queen kept the Mysteries and bore no children? The M'nak people also had a wise-woman, the head of the healers, who kept the Secret Knowledge (these Mysteries would be some kind of Secret Knowledge, too, and Tabril had said a little while ago that it was not for her to understand them), and who never married or bore children.

With the Kindi people, then, this position (or something very similar) and the position of being the Queen of the people was held by the same person. Their in'kasha was much more than what a Noldo Queen would be.

And then for Tabril to hear such suggestions about her - they would be accusations of indecency, in fact. No wonder she was upset.

Barufiniel was genuinely sorry that she had hurt the other Elf. And she knew that she would need all her experience of diplomacy - not least with the M'nak people - to heal this hurt.

"Please forgive me - it is clear to me now," she answered. "I spoke in ignorance, and you are right that I didn't understand, mostly because I didn't know the proper meaning of the word in'kasha. Nor do I know the word shirikabi, for that matter - husband, perhaps? But I take back any improper suggestion that my words have implied, and apologize for having spoken them. No such suggestion was intended, nor any insult."

[Aikanáro]

Tabrîl's eyes narrowed and she stared at Barufiniel for a long moment. This, she had not expected, and she did not know whether or not to trust it. It seemed to her like the precursor to some worse insult, a way to mock Tabrîl and her people. It would not be the first time that other elves had done such.

Yet Barufiniel had been nothing if not courteous until only a few moments ago, and the look of apology she wore appeared to be genuine.

'You did not know,' Tabrîl replied at last, 'and so I forgive it. Now that you do know, you will not say such things again.' She spoke briskly, yet there was a note of something approaching hope in her last words. It was beginning to dawn on her that this elf was different from the others, that perhaps she might speak to her as she could not to any other here.

Save Abasi, of course, but Abasi was of her people, and that made the situation entirely different. Not to mention the fact that she wore his t'rai at her belt. Tabrîl smiled at the thought of it, a small, private smile, before she turned her attention back to Barufiniel.

'And shirikabi is not alike to 'husband' else I should have used the Sindarin word. But it is not far different, and if you should choose to understand it that way, you would not be terribly far from the truth.' She shrugged, almost imperceptibly, and appeared to relax somewhat, although she made no move to rejoin the other elf. Instead, she walked away a few paces, and then back again, trying to discharge more of the agitated energy that had built up in her at Barufiniel's earlier words.

She did this several more times, pacing back and forth in silence, and then she glanced back over at Barufiniel. 'It was the mortal woman,' she said abruptly. 'Haldis. Not Radagast. She did it to me.' Tabrîl was clearly acutely uncomfortable with the subject - it was a Mystery, after all, and she ought not to discuss it. She did not intend to say more, but she felt Barufiniel ought to know that much, else she would only question Tabrîl on it again, given the opportunity.

[Varnafindë]

Barufiniel let out a long breath of relief when Tabril spoke, accepting her apology. She hadn't realised that she had been holding her breath while the other had been staring at her. Tabril kept silent again for a while, as if lost in her own thoughts, and she smiled briefly as if remembering something - and then she explained about the new word. Barufiniel didn't find the explanation totally satisfactory, but as it was probably a sensitive issue, she didn't expect Tabril to go into further detail even if asked. It was better then not to ask.

Tabril looked as if there was something more she considered saying, though - she paced back and forth, as if pondering how much to say. Perhaps she would explain about the enchantments? She had mentioned that Radagast hadn't put them on her - Barufiniel didn't know whether she dared ask her who had, or whether that would be poking too much into some Mysteries. When she was told, she was glad she hadn't asked. It was better for Tabril to tell her of her own accord, and then only as much as she could bear to say.

"So it came from the mortals," Barufiniel nodded. "Thank you for letting me know. I won't ask Radagast about it, then. If he sees some purpose in it, I don't suppose there's anything we can do but wait."

She thought that it made more sense that way - some of the mortals had some strange habits, and making enchantments could well belong to their ways. She was surprised that the wizard would even see a purpose of it - but he might see further than the Elves did, and while she would have poked Gandalf for an explanation, she didn't know Radagast well enough to do so.

[Aikanáro]

'That is so,' said Tabrîl, again impassive. 'We will wait. You must not bother the seth'enati Radagast with your questions. If there is more to it, it is not for us to know.'

In truth, she was a little irritated with Barufiniel's simplistic conclusion, offered as if it were something new to Tabrîl, an answer for her. She had realized that waiting was the only reasonable path left to her some months ago. Almost immediately after she had told Abasi that she still wished to live, in fact. Waiting, and trusting that those who spoke of purpose were correct and she would someday see her home and her people again, still gave her some small measure of hope.

Yet Barufiniel did not know this, and she meant well, and so Tabrîl kept those thoughts to herself. She stood by the other elf for a moment longer, and then gazed skyward, seeking out the position of the sun. It was later in the day than she would have expected, almost time for her to walk the boundaries, something she did several times each day. Their camp was separate from that of the Ultai, something Tabrîl was grateful for, but it did mean she put very little faith in the ability of the Ultai warriors to keep the group safe from harm.

'Barufiniel,' she addressed the other elf then, 'I must go to patrol the outer borders. These are unfamiliar lands. I would not have anyone - or anything - approach us without my knowledge.'

Guarding the small campsite was quite different from protecting the hidden dwellings of the Kindi, but Tabrîl seemed to take it every bit as seriously. In these lands, without the cover of dense forest, she could see over a great distance, and she was quite certain that if she was diligent, she would keep them from harm.

[Varnafindë]

"And I should go to get something to drink, after my singing," Barufiniel said. "I am grateful for your diligence, Tabril. It is good of you to be willing to serve the company, even when you are with us only by force."

While Tabril went off on her patrol, Barufiniel found Radagast and shared her concern about the string of her lyre.

"But if you think it is essential that I perform every day, that's what I'll do," she said, "I wouldn't want to jeopardize our facade as professional performers."

Radagast answered that he did indeed see it as essential - but she needn't perform for as long every day as she had done this afternoon.

So the next day, her session was shorter. She chose songs from her own people today. Songs in Sindarin and in Quenya - songs about Elbereth Gilthoniel and the stars - songs about the Trees, from before the Coming of the Sun - songs about Tirion the Fair upon Tuna. The Ultai seemed to appreciate the unfamiliar music. She heard some whispers from the audience in between her songs, comments that she didn't understand, comments probably in the Ultaic language - but comments that were accompanied by fingers pointing at her. She guessed that they were pointing at her ears again.

Then, like the previous day, she offered to sing familiar tunes. Some of the songs were repeated, and some were new. Even some children got their mothers to suggest tunes, and Barufiniel noticed that one young girl tried to sing along with her in Westron, rather than using her own language like her mother did.

Back at the camp Barufiniel looked for Tabril, and found her sitting by herself again, busy with a knife. Baru realised that it was indeed a different one from the one she had been sharpening the previous day.

"May I sit with you again?" she asked. "I seem to have had enough of Ultai company for a while."

[Aikanáro]

Tabrîl glanced up at her and nodded. 'Sit,' she said, her attention still focused mainly on the knife she held. She had almost finished sharpening it, and did not intend to stop until her task was complete.

Her patrols the previous day had been uneventful, and she had taken the time to fully explore the surrounding land and familiarize herself with it. The knowledge would work to her advantage, she knew, if she were to encounter anything troublesome. It had been late when she returned to the campsite, leaving her only time enough to take her evening meal and rest.

Tabrîl had been somewhat puzzled by Barufiniel's parting compliments to her earlier that day. She did not think it virtuous, that she saw to their protection. It was simply what she did, a way to take refuge in the familiar when everything about her seemed so strange, and to occupy herself when the others were entertaining the Ultai, or preparing to do so.

That, she supposed, was what Barufiniel had been doing, despite her own advice that to go to the Ultai encampment every day was not quite necessary. The other elf had her own sense of duty, Tabrîl reckoned, and it was not for her to try to alter it.

It was not long before she had finished sharpening the knife, and then she looked more attentively to Barufiniel. 'It went well today?' she asked her. 'That lyre-string held?'

[Varnafindë]

"It went well," Barufiniel confirmed. "Radagast said that I ought to perform every day, so I did. But he also said that I needn't stay for as long as I did the first day, so my performance was shorter today. And the lyre-string held."

[Aikanáro]

'Then it is well,' Tabrîl replied, a hint of approval in her tone. If Radagast had told Barufiniel to go back to the mortals, it was only right that she did, and Tabrîl was pleased that the lyre was still intact and she would not have to take upon herself the task of repairing it, as she had promised.

Which led her to wonder, if it was not for the lyre, why had Barufiniel approached her?

'There is something you would ask my help with?' she asked quietly, her curiosity evident.

[Varnafindë]

"No, there isn't, I'm fine," Barufiniel smiled. "I just wanted some company. It would be interesting to hear more about your people, though - if you don't mind telling me, of course. Someone told me that you come from Greenwood somewhere - has your people lived there for long?"

[Aikanáro]

Why did she wish to know such things? Tabrîl eyed Barufiniel suspiciously. If her words were honest, there was no harm in the telling. Yet the Kindi had discovered long ago how deceptive first appearances might prove, and Tabrîl was wary of saying another word to one who might have ulterior motives for asking such prying questions.

The seth'enati trusted her, Tabrîl reminded herself. That, coupled with Tabrîl's own instincts that Barufiniel was gentle, and meant them no harm, reassured her somewhat. After all, she knew no secrets, no Mysteries that she might unwittingly reveal.

'We have lived in that forest for a time,' she said, 'and many other places before it. I was born in Kordâla, that lay far to the east of here, east even of Kuiviénen-that-was. I was a child still when it was scorched and turned to desert by the newborn Sun, and I was close to full-grown when we left it in search of a land less harsh to call our own. There have been many places we called home since that time, since we were led out from Kordâla.'

She paused, and looked up at Barufiniel again. 'The servants of Ba'ilkôro drove us from every one of them, with fire and with the breaking of the very earth itself. If there is one thing we of the Kindi have learnt, it is caution. Our home now is hidden, deep within that forest. It was only that this company drew close to it as I stood watch...all I intended was to see them off, to ensure they did not stumble upon it. We of the Kindi do not wish to involve ourselves with the concerns of this world, of this Age. They are not ours.'

Except that it was evident that Tabrîl herself was very much involved, however unwillingly. She shrugged. 'I do not suppose that anything I speak of is meaningful to you. You are young. I am not, and I have not been far beyond our home in the forest for a long time. There is much that I do not know.'

[Varnafindë]

"I know about some of these things," Barufiniel answered, "and not of others. My father was studying the history and lore of our people, and he told me about Kuiviénen where the first Elves awoke. He had met some of them, in fact - but I don't know whether any of them are still alive.
Our lore doesn't tell about the lands east of Kuiviénen, though - I have studied lore myself in Lord Elrond's library at Imladris, and I've never seen Kordâla being mentioned. We Noldor seem to have been mostly concerned with our own people, who followed the call of the Valar and left Middle-earth to live in Valinor - and then rebelled against the Valar and came back to Middle-earth."

She sighed. The history of the Noldor was not entirely a pretty one.

"After that we've had our own struggles," she said, "with Ba'ilkôro, as you name him; Melkor, or the Morgoth, the enemy. The Valar conquered him in the end - at great cost to the lands - but they couldn't get rid of all his servants, and some of those have been harassing us throughout the millennia. One of his most dangerous servants was conquered just a few years ago, which you may be aware of - but I don't trust that this means that all evil has vanished from the world. There may be wisdom in hiding your home and making sure no-one stumbles upon it. I'm not doing it myself, but I can see that others may see the need to do so."

Barufiniel was quiet for a little while, pondering Tabril's words.

"Have you always lived in the East?" she asked. "Or have you ever lived - or perhaps travelled - west of the Misty Mountains? You were barely grown-up when you started your wanderings - it must have been hard ... Wait - did you say that you were a child when you saw the newborn Sun? Why, you are older than my father then - you would be his senior by several centuries. He was only a child when Gondolin fell - I don't know whether you've heard of Gondolin ..."

She hesitated. There was reverence in her voice when she continued.

"I guess I could tell you about the history of my people, the Noldor," she said, "if you should wish to hear it. But much of it is about wars and struggles with the enemy's servants, and not very encouraging. It does rather belong to the 'concerns of this Age'."

[Aikanáro]

Tabrîl listened closely to Barufiniel's words. She seemed to know much of the Ages before her birth, and her mention of study made Tabrîl uneasy. Much of the lore of the Elves of the West, she was sure, was knowledge forbidden her, m'had'i that she was. Yet there was little she heard that she was not already aware of, save for the news that another servant of the Enemy had been conquered so recently. It did not surprise her, however, that word of this had not reached her people. They would not have been seeking it out.

'You are Noldorin, then,' she said when Barufiniel had finished speaking. 'I suppose some of what you call history would be no more than the events of my past. Gondolin was a Noldorin city, as I recall. Beyond that I know nothing of it. We Kindi - we Avari, as the Noldor so dismissively called us, were not welcomed by the elves that returned from the West.'

She sighed. 'They thought themselves so far above us, as if there had been no trials for us in those years that they were away. As if we suffered nothing. I do not forget who took Kordâla-by-starlight from us-'

Tabrîl stopped then, as if she had just begun to realize what her words implied. When she spoke again, it was more softly. 'You are different, Barufiniel. I do not fault one elf for the actions of another, even their own kin. I meant no insult. But I did dwell in what your people called Beleriand, before Ba'ilkôro consigned it to the depths of the sea, and I remember those times, the years of my youth. We fought against the Enemy even as your people did. But I would hear your tales. I would hear what you preserve of those times, if you would tell it, and if it is a tale of war and struggle alone, for that is a tale I might safely hear.'

[Varnafindë]

Barufiniel was surprised that Tabril wanted to hear about the struggles that were no concern of her people. But if she was willing to learn about other Elves, it was probably a good thing, and Baru liked to retell bits of lore. Perhaps Tabril saw herself primarily as a warrior, and that was why she was interested? It certainly was the role she had given herself in the company.

Why did she say that it was a tale she might safely hear? Was she afraid that there might be something that would be forbidden knowledge for her in this lore - something she would see as Secret Knowledge?

The Mysteries, of course. Whatever that term meant to Tabril. Anything to do with magic and enchantments - possibly anything that might seem to be supernatural. Perhaps details about the Valar would fit into that category. Baru decided that she would be cautious and stick to natural facts - she would still be able to tell the true tale.

And Tabril wasn't completely uninformed about what Baru was about to tell. She had dwelt in Beleriand, she knew about Gondolin, she knew that the Noldor - whom she knew to be an arrogant people - had been to the West and had returned. So Baru could expand on what she already knew.

"The struggle goes all the way back to the King's own family," she said. "And it's rather complicated, so feel free to ask if anything isn't clear.
Finwë was the King of the Noldor - he led them to the West when they answered the call of the Valar. His wife was called Miriel, and she bore him a son who was called Fëanor. Miriel gave to Fëanor much of her own strength. The child-bearing made her very weary - so weary that she felt she had no more strength left to live. So when Fëanor was still only a couple of years old, his mother chose to lie down and die."

I hope Tabril won't see that as too close to Mysteries, Barufiniel thought. She may see Finwë as acting wrongly, of course - but I cannot explain about Miriel refusing to come back to life. That would be too close to something supernatural for her.

"King Finwë," she continued, "saw others around him - Ingwë, who had led the Vanyar, and Olwë, who had led the Teleri, and those of his own people - getting several children, even three or four - and he was sad to only have one child. Now the Noldor aren't really supposed to marry more than once, but Finwë asked the Valar for permission to remarry after all, and after twelve years they allowed him to do so. A woman called Indis, the niece or perhaps the sister of Ingwë, had loved Finwë with what she thought was a hopeless love. Now they met, and Finwë loved her, and they got married. Indis bore Finwë two sons, Fingolfin and Finarfin. Finarfin was my great-great-grandfather."

Barufiniel noticed that she was beginning to use some of the same tone that the books of lore did - but it suited her subject, so she just went on.

"But Fëanor did not approve of his father's new marriage, and he had no great love for Indis or her sons. He got married and left his father's house at about the same time as Indis moved in, and his own eldest son, Maedhros, was born shortly after the birth of Fingolfin. There was jealousy and struggle between Fëanor and Fingolfin, while Finarfin was of a more gentle disposition."

[Aikanáro]

This was not the sort of story Tabrîl had been expecting, a tale of familial strife rather than of war. It only proved the wisdom of her own people, where those who would be leaders did not bear children. Nevertheless, the tale interested her, and she nodded slightly in recognition as she heard how Finwë had longed for more children. It was only to be expected. MÃ*riel's weakness she did not understand. She knew of women that had suffered such weariness, long after they should have recovered from childbirth - but never so severely that they would wish to die, and never with a firstborn child. She could not see an explanation for it, save for the notion that MÃ*riel had been weaker than most to begin with.

Fëanor, too, puzzled her. Jealousy between close half-siblings was one thing, but he had been full-grown and with a partner of his own by the time Indis had her children. It was not as if Fingolfin would have been a rival to him in any meaningful sense. Unless...

'Did Finwë favor the children of Indis over MÃ*riel's son?' she asked Barufiniel. 'She lived, and he loved her, it might have been only that.' And three sons, she thought, was not a large family by any means. Tabrîl herself had been one of five, and there might well have been more, if her father had lived longer. Perhaps the Noldor had many such as MÃ*riel, she thought, without the strength to bear many children.

In any case, she was intrigued now by the story, and looked to Barufiniel to tell her more.

[Varnafindë]

"No, the writers of the lore do not give that impression," Barufiniel answered. "Perhaps rather on the contrary. There was one issue, though, where Fëanor felt that Indis was favored over Miriel.
Miriel had been called the Embroideress, because of her great skill. This in the Quenya of her time was 'Therinde'.
For some reason the Noldor began to change the 'th' sound to 's', so people would refer to Miriel as 'Serinde', but she insisted that her kin should keep the original pronunciation.
Fëanor spoke as his mother had done, both because he was a great linguistic loremaster and saw that the change would cause confusion to their language, and also as a sign of loyalty to her.
After Miriel had left Finwë and died, Finwë changed to 'Serinde' because that's what his people now mostly used. Indis also said 'Serinde', in loyalty to her husband and to her new people. Fëanor saw this as a sign of rejection of his mother and of himself, and took great offense at it. Later, when the strife between the half-brothers spread to the whole people, it really became a sign of rejection of Fëanor."

This must seem terribly confusing, Barufiniel thought. Does it show the pride of Fëanor? Then it may make some sense ...

"Fëanor was not only a great loremaster," she continued, "he was also the greatest craftsman the Noldor have ever seen. In those days, Valinor didn't only have the stars to give them light, but Yavanna had made the two Trees, one silver and one golden, which gave light. And you are right, the Noldor tended unfortunately to regard themselves superior to people who had never seen the Trees.
Fëanor managed to capture some of the light from the Trees and put it inside three great jewels - the Silmarils. In the beginning he would wear these jewels so others could delight in their beauty, but later he became jealous and begrudged others the sight of them, and would keep them locked away in his own house in Tirion and only show them to his sons. He got seven sons, eventually, more than any other Noldo had, but no daughters.
Fëanor feared that Fingolfin would try to supplant him, and Fingolfin feared that his half-brother would turn his father against him to disown him. Melkor was spreading lies to support both these suppositions. Finarfin was keeping out of the struggle."

How much detail should I provide about the struggle? Barufiniel asked herself. Not too much yet - Tabril will probably be more interested in details when we get to the battles of Beleriand.

"Finally there was a quarrel, and Fëanor threatened Fingolfin with a sword," she said. "Finwë didn't do anything about it, but the Valar sentenced Fëanor to twelve years of banishment. Fëanor moved to Formenos with his sons, but his wife refused to come with them - they were estranged already. Finwë, however, declared that he considered himself as banished as well. He gave the kingship to Fingolfin for the duration of the banishment, left Indis behind in Tirion, and went to Formenos with his eldest son."

[Aikanáro]

'The laws of Valinor sound harsh indeed,' said Tabrîl, 'if Fëanor could be banished for a mere threat.' The more she heard of the story of the Noldor, the more it confused her. She had heard of the Silmarils - although being aware of a thing and understanding it were very different. Trees that gave light, whatever the Noldor might say of them, were beyond her comprehension, and she felt that she should not ask about them.

'And I mean no insult,' she continued, 'but even I, who am only m'had'i and not learned in such things know that any language must change over time. The language my people speak has changed, the words we use now are not identical to those we used in Kordâla long ago - and distance will make it worse. I understand M'haidati Abasi's speech, and he mine, but our words are not the same - and Fëanor was troubled by such a small change? It seemed to him so personal?' She shook her head. 'I cannot say that I understand it.'

She did understand, however, Fëanor's fear that Fingolfin would take his birthright from him. Inheritance was a difficult matter among the Eldar, and Tabrîl was glad that her own people had no such concept. She considered this for a moment, and then said, 'I do not think Finwë would have given the kingship to Fingolfin if he did not know that Fingolfin would be a good king. It is so?'

[Curufin]

Abasi had been listening to the conversation for some time as he sat apart from them, sharpening his t'rai. He wondered briefly if Tabril knew that he had been listening, then banished the thought from his mind. It was not time for such sentimentality, in the middle of a war.

Sighing, he joined them, sitting beside Tabril and giving the other a suspicious yet not aggressive look. Tabril would not have spent the time with her that she had were she dangerous, yet she was not of their kind, and therefore never fully to be trusted.

He blinked at the story of Feanor and Fingolfin, a stern frown on his face.

"One should not be banished for challenge, Noldo. And your Fingolfin was a coward to refuse it. In that moment he was stripped of his honor."

He agreed with Tabril about the seeming unimportance of the linguistic shift that seemed to have caused so much strife. When he spoke to her, it was in their own language.

"Perhaps, Tabril, it was not the change in language, but a personal slight against him? They are other, and I do not assume to understand, but if he saw it in some way an insult to his honor, then challenge would have been the only recourse."

Changing back into a language they could all understand, he looked at Barufiniel.

"Perhaps it is better understood in your songs?" he spoke. "Our kind pass knowledge through song, the stories of our people. The songs convey more than mere words, and are easier remembered through the ages. Perhaps you could share, as music seems to be a talent of yours?"

He then turned back to Tabril, his fingers idly touching the hilt of his - her - t'rai, then reached out to touch hers - his - briefly. There was no smile, no look in his eyes to betray to the uwindi elf any sort of feeling, although it was there in the set of his eyes for one of his kind to see. He was asking, as was proper, if he had pleased her as a potential shirikabi in the first stage of their courtship. It was up to her to approve or disapprove of him, returning his t'rai to him if she disapproved, and keeping it if she did not. If she kept it, it would be time to move to the next step.