Gossip under the fig tree

Three days had passed since Ravenna's visit to the Grandelder, and once again, the morning found her beneath the old fig tree, weaving mats and baskets with the other village women. Their laughter floated through the air, mingling with the scent of dew and the chatter of daily gossip.

"Malia, you look unusually cheerful today," a round-faced woman named Nita remarked, eyeing her with curiosity. "Your cheeks are all flushed!"

Malia paused, letting the half-finished mat slip from her hands as she touched her face.

"Is it that obvious?" she asked, a deeper blush blooming across her skin.

The women exchanged knowing glances, their instincts for gossip sharpening. Nita's eyes sparkled—she was the first to notice Malia's unusual glow, and that alone fueled her excitement.

"Come on, tell us! That blush isn't there for nothing. Is it your husband?" Nita leaned in with a teasing smile.

"Stop it, Nita! This is just… how I always look," Malia mumbled, turning her face away, her shy act only stirring more laughter from the group.

"We're all women here—nothing to be shy about!" Nita teased, giving Malia's arm a playful tug that made her yelp.

"Ow! Nita, stop pulling me!" Malia whined, but Nita didn't let up.

"Alright, alright! I'll tell you!" Malia finally gave in, her face lighting up as the other women leaned in, abandoning their weaving to listen.

She cleared her throat, and the bashful look she wore moments ago faded—replaced by a sly grin. It became clear that Malia had been dying to share her little secret all along, just waiting for someone to pry it out of her. And Nita had played right into her hands.

"It was my husband," Malia said at last.

"I knew it!" Nita exclaimed, clenching her fist like she'd won a prize. Her eyes lit up even more, eager for the juicy details.

Malia beamed. "We did that thing last night!" she added, barely able to contain her excitement.

"That's it?" one of the women—Nizhoni—asked, unimpressed.

"No, Nizhoni, that's not it!" Malia snapped, shooting her an annoyed glare.

Nita burst into laughter. "Don't mind her, Malia. You should've known—Nizhoni needs more than just 'we did the thing' to get invested."

"Oh, shut it, Nita!" Nizhoni retorted, scowling. "You're the one pretending it's all for me when you're dying for every detail yourself!"

Nita just shrugged, completely unfazed.

Malia was about to continue her tale when Ravenna, who had quietly been listening to the lively chatter, suddenly spoke up.

"Um… excuse me, but what exactly is… the thing?"

Silence fell instantly. Every woman turned to look at her, mouths slightly agape, as if she'd asked the most shocking question in the world.

Kaya blinked and tilted her head. "Wait… Ravenna, how old are you?"

Caught off guard, Ravenna stammered, "I—I'm twenty-five."

A collective gasp rose from the group.

"You're a full-grown woman!" Kaya whispered, leaning in. "And you don't know what the thing means?"

"Don't tease her, Kaya," Winona said gently. "Maybe it's different where she's from."

"Yes, yes. True," Wenona chimed in, nodding in agreement.

Trying to steer the conversation, Nita snorted slightly as her gaze turned to Kaya. "By the way, how's your husband doing?"

Kaya raised an eyebrow, sensing the mischief from Nita's tone. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Nita smirked. "Oh, come on. Everyone knows what a beast you are when it comes to that… and your twin Haya is even worse!"

Wenona blinked innocently and asked, "Nita, how do you know this?"

"Because," Nita said dramatically, "we all used to serve in the Grandelder's harem. Haya once drained him so dry, he couldn't lift a finger. We, the others at that time, felt useless and invisible!"

She sighed at the memory, while the women burst into laughter, clutching their bellies.

"And then your husband married both of you," Nita added with a grin. "Honestly, I wonder if the poor man's still alive."

Kaya jabbed a finger at her. "Don't come for us, Nita! If he's overwhelmed, that's on him—he was the one bold enough to woo us both!"

"My husband's not the same as my sister's," Wenona said softly. "Even though we're twins."

Her voice carried a childlike innocence that made the women smile.

Nita gave her a fond look. "We know, sweetheart." Then she turned to Winona with a playful glint in her eye. "Winona, remember when we were in the Grandelder's harem? You remember Haya, don't you?"

Winona's smile faltered, becoming bittersweet. "I remember all too well. I was furious with her for years. It wasn't until I married my husband that I finally let it go."

Wenona's eyes widened with realization. "Oh! That's right—my sister really was in the Grandelder's harem back then."

"See?" Nita said, turning smugly to Kaya.

Kaya rolled her eyes and looked away, clearly not in the mood to be dragged back into the gossip.

Winona turned to Ravenna then, her tone softening as she explained. "When we say 'that thing', we mean something… intimate, between a man and a woman." She made a simple gesture—one finger poking through a loop made with her other hand.

Ravenna gasped. If she hadn't figured it out by now, then surely her intelligence was really lacking. The way Winona had poke her finger into the circle of her hand said it all without words.

Winona raised her brows. "Ah, now she gets it." She gave a little shrug. "We women don't just come out and say sex—it's not interesting. So we call it the thing instead." She gave Ravenna a sly wink.

Ravenna nodded quickly, her face flushed with embarrassment. Clearly, this kind of talk was new to her.

Winona chuckled. "No need to be shy. Even my shy and innocent sister, Wenona doesn't blush when we talk about it—and look at her."

She pointed to her sister, who smiled sweetly but said nothing.

"But," Ravenna asked, hesitating, "why would anyone be with the Grandelder and then marry someone else afterward?"

Nizhoni answered before anyone else could. "It's our custom. The Grandelder has the right to any woman in the village, married or not. If he desires you, you go to him. It's an honor, not a choice. And our husbands aren't allowed to protest."

Ravenna gasped again. Even though she had grown up in the dark space, cut off from the rest of the world, she wasn't completely unaware of certain things.

Her confusion heightened.

"But… What if a married woman gets pregnant after being with her husband and then the grandelder? How would she tell who the father is?"

The women burst into laughter.

"You really are new here," Nizhoni said, shaking her head fondly. "You don't know, do you? The Grandelder can't father children. None of them can."

"What? Why not?" Ravenna asked, confused.

Nizhoni smiles, folding her hands in her lap. "When a man is chosen to become Grandelder, there's a rite. One of the requirements is that his seed must be made dormant—he loses the ability to get a woman pregnant. It's part of the tradition."

Ravenna stared for a while, stunned. "But… why go that far?"

"Simple," Nizhoni said. "Bloodline succession is not allowed. A Grandelder can't pass down his power to a child so in order to ensure that never happens, he's never allowed to have one. That way, no one can scheme to keep the title in their family."

"It ensures that each Grandelder is chosen fairly," Winona added. "No favorites. No heirs. Just the will of the tribe."

Ravenna sat in silence, absorbing it all. This is something she was hearing for the first time. She exhaled slowly. "Does everyone in the tribe know about this?"

"Of course," Nizhoni replied casually.

"And… the children?"

Nizhoni chuckled. "They're the exception. What would they understand at that age?"

"I see," Ravenna murmured, the weight of it all slowly settling in.

Nita leaned in with a teasing smile. "Don't worry. If you ever become a full member of the tribe, you might even be given the honor of sharing a night with the Grandelder."

Ravenna stiffened, the thought catching her off guard like a sudden wind. Her whole body tensed.

Winona laughed. "Relax! She doesn't mean the current Grandelder. That old man probably doesn't even remember what to do with a woman anymore. We're talking about the next one—he'll be younger."

Still, the idea didn't bring her any comfort. Her discomfort was so clear that the other women couldn't help but burst into laughter.

Kaya wiped her tongue across her lips, her eyes lost in fantasy. "Mmm, I wish a new Grandelder would come soon. Maybe I'd finally get a taste of something new. My man's been getting duller every year."

Nita scoffed, shooting Kaya a teasing glare. "And you claim you're not a beast? Look at you, already plotting the Grandelder's funeral just to scratch your itch! I swear, if the law ever gave you permission, you'd work your way through every man in the village without blinking."

Laughter bubbled around the group, and Nita wasn't finished.

"And don't even get me started on that Haya. I'm convinced she'd do far worse."

Winona snorted, grinning. "Worse? What could be worse than that?"

"Oh, I don't know…" Nita said, grinning mischievously. "If Haya found out the men weren't satisfying her, who knows? She might start experimenting with our livestock next!"

"Shut it, Nita!" Kaya snapped, her cheeks flaring with heat.

The group erupted in laughter again.

Ravenna, still digesting the whirlwind of customs and innuendos, asked, "So… you're saying it's a good thing the law forbids sleeping with other men?"

"Absolutely," Nita replied seriously now. "Only your husband or the Grandelder has that right. Anyone else? That's considered fornication—and it's punished."

"Tch," Kaya muttered, folding her arms and looking away.

Then Nita's gaze shifted to Malia, who sat quietly, visibly annoyed.

"Oh!" Nita scratched the back of her head, realizing they had shifted their attention away from her. "Malia—we completely forgot! You were telling us something about your husband and… last night?"

Malia shot her a withering look. The enthusiasm she'd felt earlier had drained away. With a huff, she picked up her half-woven mat and began threading again in silence.

The others exchanged guilty glances.

Nizhoni tried to save the moment with a soft laugh. "We got carried away. Malia, please continue, we're all ears now."

But Malia didn't budge. She focused on her mat, lips pressed tight.

The women gave in to the silence, realizing her mood had soured. One by one, they picked up their own weaving baskets and resumed their work.

Then, just as the rhythm of weaving returned, a voice called out from a distance.

"R-Ravenna!"

Everyone looked up. A young man approached the fig tree with hesitant steps.

"Huh? Who's that?" Nizhoni asked, squinting.

"I don't recognize him," Winona whispered to Wenona.

Wenona shook her head.

But before anyone could figure it out, Ravenna's eyes lit up. "Baole!"

"Baole?" Kaya blinked. "Is that the guy with the gigantic beard? You know, the one so thick, it makes the bush down my crotch look like bare ground?"

The group turned toward her in unison with a mixture of horror and amusement.

"What? Am I lying?"

Nizhoni narrowed her eyes at the approaching man. "Wait… look at those big eyes and the extra Huli lines on his cheeks. That is Baole."

"Yes!" someone else chimed in. "It's really him!"

"But Ravenna," Nizhoni began, turning—only to find the girl was no longer beside them.

Ravenna had already rushed to meet him, as she stepped up to Baole, her lips curling into a bright, unexpected smile. She had imagined this moment countless times—convinced that seeing him again would stir her anger, that she'd unleash all the frustration she'd bottled up. But now, standing face-to-face with him, none of that surfaced. Instead, warmth filled her chest.

He had listened.

She saw it immediately—the wild beard she had mocked was gone, the thick "bushes" neatly cleared. Her fingers moved on their own, reaching up to his freshly shaven chin. With a gentle, playful rub, she said with mischief in her voice, "Well, little brother, don't you feel lighter now?"

The women under the fig tree collectively gasped, their eyes wide as they watched the bold display.

Ravenna, momentarily lost in the humor and intimacy of the moment, kept teasing. Her fingers lingered as she added, "I almost didn't recognize you without all that… wilderness."

Baole tensed under her touch. His face twitched, and his hand itched to brush hers away—but he couldn't. Not with her. She had a strange effect on him, since that time they had arrived at the tribe.

He remembered that even when they'd parted after the hall after their meeting with the elders and the grandelder. Her words had rung in his ears like a curse and a challenge, reminding him of his promise to have his beard cut. So, in a quiet act of rebellion—or maybe surrender—he had shaved it later in the evening of that day. But when he had gone and looked at his reflection in the stream, he felt stripped of something more than hair. His pride. His identity. His manhood, even. This brought him shame that he actually spent days hiding from the village, embarrassed, unsure of how to face his current reality.

And then, of course, the Grandelder had to send her a message—through him.

He had no choice but to obey. And now that he was looking at her, grinning up at him, proud of what she was seeing, he really did not know whether to laugh or cry.