Let us not forget Nyala, my Cro-Magnon wife. She was a young thing but very forthright and willful. Though tiny of stature, she was no female to be trifled with. Endlessly generous and doting if she was pleased with you, vicious if you dared to vex her, she joined Brulde and I not long after we took Eyya as a wife.
Our culture had no marriage rituals, per se. Our ceremony with Eyya, apart from the orgy, was mostly Fat Hand tradition. In our tribe, one person would say, "I want to be your mate," and the other would answer, "Okay," and you were married. By custom, we men did the wooing, but the decision was ultimately the female's concerning permanent living arrangements. A marriage was really only official after the woman had moved into the man's tent and took over the household. We had a saying, "She's cleaning his tent now," and that was how we said a woman had joined with a male or a group family. Our males very rarely forced themselves upon the females. You had to sleep sometime... and our women were known to have a vindictive streak.
And access to weapons.
Nyala, in particular, was infamous for her stubbornness. She was also notoriously impulsive.
One snowy night in the middle of the winter season, she threw aside the flap of our tent and declared that Brulde and I would henceforth be her husbands.
Nyala was an attractive young woman with long wavy blonde hair, like Brulde's, and smooth unscarred skin that was milk white in complexion and smattered with freckles, and though she was slim almost to the point of being boyish, we excitedly welcomed her into our burgeoning family. I don't think either of us even paused to contemplate the matter. Brulde and I had both, on occasion, courted her, and Eyya was lonely for female company, a helpmate in her burdens.
"I want to come live with you, Gon and Brulde. Will you take me as a wife?" she asked.
Before the snowflakes that swirled into the tent around her ankles had even had a chance to melt, we were hers.
I think the four of us mated for a week straight after she barged into our tent and married us. I won't say that that's all we did (we did take breaks to eat and sleep) but both of our wives were with child by next full moon.
Nyala's abrupt arrival was not without ulterior motives on her part. We found out later that she was being pursued by one of the other men in the village, a fat old hog named Lorthe, and we also found at that he had been a little more insistent than was proper, so we did not feel ashamed that she was a bit too young to leave her family and take us as husbands. Her parents were happy they no longer needed to protect her from Lorthe's lecherous advances – he was known to press himself onto young, unwilling girls-- and Lorthe was leery of her two virile new husbands, who would think nothing of sticking a spear in his belly for upsetting their wife. Shortly after she took up residence in our wetus, Lorthe moved on to greener pastures and-- sadly-- younger and less willful girls.
It was not long before Nyala was bossing all three of us around, and though she wasn't too thrilled to share her husbands with a strange Neanderthal female, she eventually warmed to Eyya.
In time they grew very close, Nyala and Eyya. Many an evening found Nyala lying across Eyya's lap so that the gentle Neanderthal woman could groom her hair or stroke away her cares. After a while, Brulde and I began to debate whether Nyala and Eyya made love when we were away, so we would sneak up on the wetus when we returned from hunting, hoping to catch them in the act. We would peek through the seams of the tent like horny little boys, but we never caught them doing anything else but housekeeping. It was a disappointment, but it pleased me that they were so close. It has always pleased me when those I love are happy, whether I am the source of that happiness or not.
But we were not neglected. On the contrary! Nyala and Eyya doted on Brulde and me shamelessly. They cooked our food when we were hungry, kept us healthy with the fruits and berries and vegetables they gathered for our meals. They tended to our injuries and illnesses and gave freely of their bodies when we were desirous.
All through those first winter months, we did our best to expand our fledgling family. Without the security of laws and technology, an extended family was a great advantage. It eased the struggle to eke out an existence in those primitive days. And in the fall our family grew by two. Eyya and Nyala delivered within days of one another. The following spring, another two children came along. And then two more. The women reared our children with a united front. Brulde and I fished and hunted and helped to care for and protect our progeny when we managed to straggle home, but Nyala and Eyya shouldered the bulk of the work of making and maintaining a family, as women have always done.
At night, we tied the flap of the tent and gathered around the fire, feeding and entertaining ourselves and our wives and children. Eyya often sang the children to sleep in her soft, high-pitched voice. Sometimes Brulde would make up stories. Nyala and I had the most nimble fingers, so we repaired our clothes and weapons as Eyya and Brulde entertained. When we retired, we all cuddled together in our furs and made love.
Does it sound wonderful, as it does to me as I look back with nostalgia on my last living days? Or are you shocked and revolted by our strange way of life?
I only feel love and longing for my mortal family-- gone now for so many lonesome and night-filled millennia.
Nyala, Eyya, Brulde... oh, how terribly I miss you.