The Bear's Fake Bride

by Amy Star

  Then, finally, on a sunny afternoon, everything changed. She was washing her brothers near the stream when she saw her mother approaching. Her mother was a lovely woman. Even at her age, she still had the light of youth in her eyes. She made everything, even hard work, seem like a sort of game. When she approached, Kalia could see that something was weighing on her mother's heart.

  “Daughter,” her mother said as she took a seat at the side of the stream.

  “Yes, mother,” she said, worried at what her mother could possibly be so pensive about.

  “Come, I must speak to you,” her mother said, patting the ground beside her.

  “I'm just cleaning up the boys. I'll be there in a moment,” she said, suddenly hesitant to hear what her mother had come to tell her.

  “Leave them,” her mother said wearily. “We must speak now.”

  “Is everything alright, mother?” she asked as she sat by her mother, dangling her feet in the stream.

  “Yes, child,” her mother said with a forced smile on her face. She brushed a stray hair from Kalia’s cheek as she’d done when she was a small girl and knew in an instant that everything was about to change.

  “Then tell me what is happening. You're scaring me,” she begged, feeling the fear creeping up in her chest.

  “Though I still call you child, you are in earnest a young woman now,” her mother began, staring thoughtfully into Kalia’s eyes.

  “What are you saying?” she asked, though she knew in her heart her mother had come to tell her a mate had finally been chosen.

  “I'm saying that you are no longer a child. For months now you have been of mating age,” she continued, though her eyes drifted from her daughter’s face to the distant horizon.

  “Yes, Mother,” she said, fighting back tears. She knew that her mother was as emotional as she was, though she was doing a better job of hiding it.

  “Well, the elders have chosen your match,” her mother said without looking at her. She was glad for that, because she didn’t want her mother to see her crying like a child at the thought of leaving her family.

  “But it can't be. I can't leave you. You and the little children need me,” she said, unable to keep herself from crying.

  “No, we will get along just fine and you need to begin your own life. It is a good match for you. I have been assured you will be happy and well taken care of,” her mother promised. That seemed to be something that gave her mother comfort, so she tried to draw her own comfort from it.

  “I'm not ready to be any man's mate,” she confessed, looking at her little brothers as they played nearby. She could not imagine a life where she did not see them every day. They were nearly six years old, but to her, they would always be babies.

  “Yes, you are,” her mother said, pulling her close and hugging her tight. She stroked her hair and let her cry on her shoulder until the shock of the emotion passed. As Kalia wiped her tears, she did her best to pull herself together.

  She had been prepared her entire life for this moment and she could not allow herself to disappoint her mother or to betray her years of training because of her childish fears of leaving her mother’s side. Women in her culture had to be strong and she needed to make herself face her new reality with her head held high.

  “How will I know how to make a home of my own?” she asked her mother with all seriousness.

  If she was going to do this, she needed to be sure she did it well. Her mother had always impressed upon her the importance of holding oneself to the highest possible standard and she had no intention of doing anything less than that as she began her new life.

  Her mother smiled and nodded, brimming with pride. She knew then that she had done just what her mother had needed her to do, accept her future. “You have long been part of making everything here work so smoothly. You know everything you need to about having a home of your own. It is time now for your sister to take on your role here so that she can learn and prepare of her own mate.”

  “She won't like having such work to do,” Kalia laughed.

  Her sister was only three years younger than her, but she and her mother had always babied her. Even as a small child, she was a lovely girl. She was rambunctious and rebellious in every way, while Kalia was dedicated and steady. In the sadness after her father’s death, she and her mother often doted on her as a distraction from their mourning. As a result, they had never put much of the burden of their work upon her and she liked it that way. She preferred to run wild.

  “It is not a choice. It is her duty just as it was yours,” her mother said, with determination on her face. Kalia had never seen her mother look so stern where Mali was concerned. It was almost comical and Kalia looked forward to seeing how that would play out.

  She and her mother sat in silence for what felt like an eternity. They were both doing all that they could to savor the time that they had left together. They watched the boys play and listened to the water ripple past them. When Kalia did look at her mother, she found her gazing back at her with a mixture of pride and sadness in her eyes.

  “I'm frightened, Mother,” she finally said, needing her mother’s reassurance.

  “I know, but this is the natural way of things. It's how I met your own wonderful father and you know how happy we were together,” her mother said, now with a genuine smile on her face. She always got that look on her face when she spoke of her own mate. She was mated with Kalia’s father and fell immediately in love with him, as he had with her. They had spent every day of their lives together in complete and total happiness. They were truly partners and Kalia always nurtured the secret hope she would have a mating bond like the one that her parents were lucky enough to share. The elders had truly known what they were doing when they matched her parents and she had to have faith that they would do the same for her.

  “Yes, Mother,” she said with a nod.

  Her thoughts drifted to which of the eligible warriors might be waiting for her in the lodge when the ceremony commenced, but it was impossible to even wager a guess as to who it might be. She sighed and resigned herself to the knowledge that she had no control over what partner she might have, but she could control how she faced that future and she would do so with hard work and bravery.

  “And more importantly, he gave me all of my beautiful children,” her mother said, smiling at the boys as they splashed in the stream.

  “Will I be with child very soon?” she asked in shock.

  Though cubs were the main purpose of the mating ritual, the realization she would soon be a mother to children of her own had never really crossed her mind until that moment. She thought back to how her mother had glowed as her belly grew with each of the younger siblings that she had carried. No matter who her mate was, she knew with absolute certainty she would be a good mother and that children of her own would bring her untold joy.

  “If you are very lucky,” her mother said, patting her arm.

  “What if I am not pleasing to my mate? What if he does not want me?” she asked, because she needed to know. To be the best possible mate, she knew she needed to please her mate in every way.

  “You are sweet and kind, not to mention smart and a hard worker. You are the kind of mate they all dream of finding when they walk in to the sacred lodge. He would be a fool to be displeased with you,” her mother said, a little indignant at the possibility that a man would be anything but happy to have her daughter as their mate.

  “What if he is not a man I would want for my own?” she continued, knowing that this might be her last chance to ask such a question without being judged for it.

  “You must put your faith in the elders. They do not make their decisions lightly. They think of true compatibility. Open yourself to their choice of you and I am sure you will come to love him as I loved your father,” her mother said confidently.

  “Yes, Mother,” she said, unsure it was possible for anyone to be what her parents had been to each other.

  “Now, we have a lot of
work to do before the full moon, don't we?” her mother said, rising to her feet and helping Kalia up.

  “Yes, ma'am,” she said, thinking of the many things she needed to accomplish and to teach her sister before she left for her own home.

  ***

  “Go and fetch me the satin fabric from the cedar chest. We need to get to work on your ceremonial robe,” her mother said, always practical.

  The robe that the virgin girl wore in her mating ceremony was to be a labor of love, created by the girl and her mother as a symbolic last rite of passage. It was a garment meant to be something that represented the girl and her heritage to her mate, as well as something that gave her the confidence to go boldly to him in the sacred lodge.

  “Will we have time to finish it?”

  She realized there were only five days until the next full moon. There was barely enough time to do anything, let alone something detailed enough to show her full sewing talent to her mate and she wanted to be sure when he first saw her, he was pleased with her physically, as well as with the skills she would bring to their household.

  “Of course. With both of us to work on it, it will be done in no time,” her mother said, though she looked a little wary herself.

  “Yes, Mother,” she said as she headed towards their cabin.

  It was within sight of the creek and should have taken her only a minute to reach, but she walked slowly, savoring the way that her feet knew the path so well. She wondered if she would ever feel so at peace in the home she would share with her mate. When she reached the cabin, she headed for her mother’s room in the back and began to root through the cedar trunk for the fabric that her mother had instructed her to grab, when she heard a strange sound coming from the attic above her.

  She crept up to the attic, which she and her sister had always shared as a bedroom. There, she found her sister crying on her bed, her head buried in her pillow.

  “Why are you in here all alone crying?” she asked, sitting down on the bed beside her sister.

  “I heard what mother said to you,” she said, raising her tear stained face.

  “That's no reason to be so mournful, dear,” she said, wrapping her arms around her crying sister.

  “Yes it is. You will go off to your new life and I will never see you again,” she sobbed.

  “That isn't true. There isn't a place in the whole camp that is more than a 15 minute walk from here,” she said, though she had shared her sister’s fear.

  She needed to comfort her little sister. She was the person she loved best in the world and she could not allow her own nerves to make her sister sad. Her joyful sister needed to stay that way and she could not allow that to change, no matter what else did.

  “Everything will change and you know it,” Mali cried, her eyes swollen from crying.

  “It won't change anything between us. I won't let it,” she promised, putting her hands on both sides of her sister’s face to force her to look into her eyes as she spoke.

  “Marigold never sees her sister anymore. She told me she can't even remember what she looks like,” Mali said, blushing as soon as she spoke of it.

  “You know that's different,” she said sternly. Mali should have known better than to speak of Marigold’s sister. She and her mate had been the victims of each young person’s greatest fear in their tribe.

  “How is it different? She got married off and now she is gone,” she said stubbornly.

  “Her mating was challenged by one of the Shamanas. They carried her off. There is no coming back after that. They made her one of them after the challenger killed her mate,” she said bluntly.

  It was something that was rarely spoken of in their tribe after it happened. In times gone by, their rival tribe had been primarily male. To find mates, they came and stole women from them, which led to battles and skirmishes to retrieve them. Soon, the elders decided it was a futile and a waste of life. They met with the elders of the Shamanas tribe and struck a deal. If the Shamanas warriors wished to have one of their women, he would need only to challenge her mate for her. If he won, then the tribe would not seek retaliation for her loss. Her mate could concede her to the rival or fight to the death to keep her.

  She would be considered a Shamana if she was lost and would belong to the warrior who won her. It saved the lives of many a warrior, but the women of the tribe lived in fear they would be taken by the rival brutes.

  “What if that happens to you? You heard mama. You are the perfect mate. They could challenge your mate for you. Then I will never see you again,” she sobbed, throwing herself back down on the bed.

  “Now darling, you've lived with me your whole life, haven't you?” she said, trying to stay calm and not let her own fears show through.

  “That is a silly question,” Mali said, staring at her sister as if she were sure she had gone mad.

  “Well, can you think of anyone wanting to live with me so badly that they would risk killing or being killed to do it?” she asked with a laugh.

  “I suppose you are right,” Mali giggled.

  “Now go off and pick some of the yallan flowers from near the creek. We will need them to dye the thread to embroider my robe,” she said, shooing her sister from their room. The rare flower was something that she would need to complete her robe. Keeping Mali busy was likely the best way to keep her from her sadness and also to begin her training to assist their mother after Kalia’s mating. The smile on the girl’s face told her that she had thought correctly.

  “You want me to help?” Mali said in surprise. She jumped off the bed and looked as though she was very excited to be a part of it. Though it was usually a mother-daughter activity, Kalia wanted Mali to be a part of as much of the preparations as possible.

  “Yes, of course. I will always need my sister,” she said, hugging her sister close before sending her from the room.

  She needed a moment alone to process the thoughts tumbling around in her head. In all of her earlier fears, her mating being challenged had not even crossed her mind. Now, it struck cold in her heart to even think of it.

  Kalia sat on the bed and tried to wrap her mind around all of the changes that had occurred in just one afternoon. She needed to prepare herself for many more changes to come and she needed to be strong for her mother, her sister, and her brothers, and she needed to be the kind of mate that any warrior would be proud to call his own.

  *

  Kalia stood in the middle of the sacred lodge and tried to keep herself calm. To keep her mind occupied, she studied the details of the lodge’s interior. Though many of her friends had mated already, speaking of what happened within the lodge was strictly forbidden. She had been surprised by how luxurious the space was. There were candles, large and small, on every surface. They sputtered and glowed, making the interior of the lodge feel otherworldly. The most surprising thing to her was the fact that the ceiling of the lodge was open to the night sky. Above her, the moon glowed bright, bathing the entire room in its light. It made her feel almost as though she was standing outside in the night, despite the walls that surrounded her.

  When the oldest female elder led her to the lodge, she explained to her that she would have an hour in the space by herself to calm her nerves before her mate entered, and she was glad for it; the days leading up to that night had been absolute madness. She had done all that she could to prepare their home for her absence.

  In addition to that, she had to pack all of her belongings and sew her marriage wardrobe. All of the work had made it much easier for her to keep from facing the sadness at leaving her home and her family. Her mother made it very clear to her that her bags needed to be prepared before the elders came for her, so that they could be collected in the morning and moved to her new home.

  She still had trouble believing that she had spent her last night in her mother’s house. Her mother had not cried when she left, but she had been exerting all of her will to keep from it. Kalia had followed her lead as she said farewell. Mali wasn’
t able to keep her own tears in check but she had already begun to stitch new curtains for the room, now that it belonged to her alone, so Kalia worried less about her being alone. The boys, for their part, were too young to understand what was happening, but they hugged her close and let her hold them for quite a while without fussing.

  Now, she stood alone in this sacred place. Though it was beautiful, the power of it was a bit overwhelming to her. That must be why the elders gave the females time to calm themselves, she thought. In the center of the room there was a mattress on the floor, covered in luxurious fabrics and furs. There were pillows strewn around, making the room look like the tent of the sultans she had heard about in the fables her mother told her when she was young.

  There was a small mirror in the corner of the room that she used to study her face. She thought she was doing a fair job of hiding her nerves. Her mother and sister had spent over an hour twisting her long, thick brown hair into a braid. They had woven dozens of flowers into her dark locks. She looked, she thought, more like a woodland nymph than her real self. There were a variety of colors, making her look as though she was a part of the nature that surrounded them every day. Because so much of their existence was tied to their own connection to the wild, it made her feel a bit more confident than usual.

  They had just finished her ritual robe that morning. Because it was to be reflective of whom she was, she had a bit of trouble settling on a design. Finally, she realized that it should be reflective of her home and what she loved. That way, it would give her the confidence to go boldly forward while carrying her past and her home with her.

  She dyed the satin fabric the deep blue color of the stream that ran near their family cabin. She was even more grateful for her choice, now that she knew she would be bathed in moonlight. The color looked quite favorable in those conditions.

  She worked with her mother and sister to embroider the robe with the many flowers that lined the stream. It had been an ambitious goal, but in the end it had worked out quite well. She ran her fingers nervously over the embroidered flowers and tried to keep her confidence up.