To Be Chosen By A God

Chapter 6

                That night he dreamt.  He often didn’t dream as he didn’t need sleep and this was more of a time he relaxed more than actually sleeping. 

                He was in bed with Chelsea and he was on top of her as they grunted and groaned in pleasure.  She was kissing him as he was pushing into her and the pleasure was building for both of them.  It wasn’t long before he felt an explosion of pleasure as she began squeezing him with her own pleasure, and he slowed his thrusting.

                “I love you, Micah.”  She whispered to him as the dream faded.

                He had had several such dreams since she had arrived at the Haven.  He often fantasized about her as he watched her spin or sew.  He woke up to the rare mess in his pants.  He cleaned the mess with a thought.  He relaxed in the bed, enjoying the quiet time of the early morning hours when no one in his lands were awake.  The rare times in a day where his power was not being drained through active use were restful and replenishing to him.  Prayers could be draining when there were so many at the same time.  The evening was more draining than the morning, but it could be because he would have been using his power all day and was closer to being drained by evening.  Sugary foods helped.  They gave a great explosive energy that helped him to be able to do more in a day.  All food helped; proteins and carbs gave him long term energy, but the sugar gave him quick bursts of energy that had the power of a full meal but were small and portable.  Just like a human, food could also replenish energy that he had used.

                Making the fire last night had really drained him.  He wondered if he should request that she make pancakes for breakfast this morning.  He loved how she made him feel last night.  He saw the wonder in her eyes as she truly viewed the Haven for the first time.  She had taken well to the riding.  He probably shouldn’t have made her first ride so long, but he had enjoyed being with her and talking with her and seeing her in a situation she wasn’t familiar with and how well she had done with it.  He had let them stay out too long.  He had hoped that he would have been able to just make it to the bedroom even if he had to drain himself to get there, but she had known just what to do.  She made it so he didn’t have to expend the energy to listen to his followers while being able to walk and climb stairs.  When he saw that she had become cold doing so, he didn’t hesitate in expending his energy to heat her back up.  He was still a little tired and could use the burst of energy pancakes would bring him.  He decided; he would go against his usual way of doing things of taking whatever the potential bride would make him without complaint and make the request.

                He closed his eyes and continued to rest, letting the events of the last several days to replay in his mind.  Unlike other mornings, he was fully aware as the first prayers of the morning began.  He got up and he saw that she was also waking up.

                “Chelsea, I know I don’t usually make requests, but do you think you could make pancakes for breakfast?”

                “Of course.”

                He had a few minutes before the prayers started pouring in so asked, “Was rest enough to heal you from yesterday?”

                She got up and moved around, testing herself.  “Back to normal.”  She smiled.

                “I’m glad.  I’ll see you in a little while.”  He turned to the bathing chamber and she waited for him to close the door before changing out of her nightgown and then heading down to the kitchen.

                She checked the pantry and found that everything she would need was there.  She made the syrup and then worked on the orange juice.  The batter for the pancakes and the making of the pancakes would come last.  Margaret had shown her how to add blueberries to the pancakes so she made half of them with blueberries and half without.  She didn’t know which he would prefer. 

                As she cooked, she wondered at his breakfast request.  He had never requested she make anything before.  She wondered if it was because of last night and how tired he had looked after making the fire for her.  He still looked a little tired, actually, so decided that she would make his lunch and dinner meals a little more sugary than normal.  She had found some recipes in the many cookbooks that might work.

                He was down before she finished so he brought the juice and syrup to the table and set their places, knowing that she would just bring the plate with the stack of pancakes to the table and they would choose the amount of pancakes they wanted from there.

                “Thank you.  I don’t normally make requests but…”

                “You’re tired and could use the extra energy.”  She finished for him.  He looked over at her, surprised she had picked up on it.  “I’ve been around you enough to understand you a bit better.  Being able to listen to every prayer uses up energy, doesn’t it.  You could just let them all make noise in your head, and that probably wouldn’t use so much, but you really listen to them all.  And then you made fire and rather than letting it use the logs to maintain it, you used yourself to maintain it.  Food helps to give you back some energy or to use as an energy reservoir, but it’s sugar that gives you more power per bite, isn’t it?”

                He nodded.  He knew she was intelligent, but that she had understood without him having to explain, proved how smart she really was.  Had he chosen someone else, she would have probably become his priestess and as soon as she was taught to read, likely by Darius, she would have been an intellectual force to be reckoned with.  She may have even made philosophical strides that would have far exceeded what was expected of a daughter of a logger.

                “I still don’t understand why you did it.  You keep the house pretty warm and after I got into bed I would have been warm in no time.”

                “I did it because I can.  You should know by now that there is little I wouldn’t do for you even without you asking me.  What good is being a god if I can’t expend some energy keeping you warm?”

                It turned out that he enjoyed both kinds of pancakes and she made sure he ate more of the stack than she did.  By the end of the meal, he was looking more like himself.

                “Micah.  Today is the last reading and writing lesson from Margaret.  She’s going to help me write a letter to my family and I’ve put together a basket to send with it.  Do you think you’ll have enough extra energy to send it down today or should I wait for tomorrow?”  She asked worriedly.

                “I’ll have more than enough energy today.  I’m glad you’re finally writing to them.  What else are you sending them?”  He asked curiously.

                “The rest of the sky blue cloth I made when I first got here.  It should let them make an item or two depending on how it’s used.  I’m also sending them some sky blue thread to sew the clothing with.  I’ve made them some berry jam, candles, soap, and some apples.  Is it too much?”

                “Not at all.  You should send them a jar of honey too.  The beekeeper ends up jarring more than we can use even with those delicious honey cakes of yours.  We often send it down to the clergy to sell at the village markets.  I just ask that they use the money made from it to help the people in need in their villages.”

                Chelsea thought for a few moments.  “Do you think if in the future I made bolts of cloth they could be sent down to the villages that need it?”

                “You mean for the people who can’t afford cloth?”  She nodded.  “Of course.  That would be a nice thing to do.  What brought this up?”

                “Back home, to either make a little extra money or to trade for essential items, we would spin or weave or make clothing for people.  I was just thinking that it would be harder for mother and Sophia to do enough to meet those needs.  There were a couple people that we frequently traded with, but Sophia doesn’t spin as fast as I can and mother can spin as fast as I can but she doesn’t keep the yarn as even.  Abigail will be busy trying to do everything for her and her husband that she won’t be able to help.”

                “You can send them anything within reason.  I wouldn’t suggest sending items that they would not normally be able to buy or trade before you came here.  You wouldn’t want to make them targets of anyone who might become jealous of them.”

                She nodded.  “I wouldn’t send them black, purple, or white cloth.  Hardly anyone can afford it in the village and the last thing I would want to do is make people think they were thieves.  Probably not oranges either considering how expensive they are.”

                “I think you can get away with oranges so long as they are circumspect about it.  You can also send them a leather hide if you like.”

                She shook her head.  “Mother doesn’t know how to make items from leather.  Belts, bracers and shoes were always something we either bought or traded for.”

                “Well, if you should ever get the inclination to learn how to work leather, there is a man that lives in the village we passed through that would be more than happy to teach you.”

                “I might take you up on that.  But not today.”

                “Ok.  I’ll see you around noon.”  He smiled as he left for his work room. 

                She cleaned up and started the dough so that it would have time to rise.  Margaret helped her to write the letter to her parents along with a shorter one to Darius to let him know that he would have to read it to them.  She added the jar of honey to the basket.  She would wait on the oranges for the next basket she sent.  Once the letters were finished, she worked on lunch.  She made more honey cakes, some dinner rolls, cookies and two loaves of bread; one that was normal bread and another that had cinnamon, a little more sugar than was normally put in bread and a frosting for the top.  Margaret called it cinnamon bread.

                Margaret had also shown her how to make stuffed and flat noodles and Chelsea was itching to try them out tonight.  She had the dough for that made, but would have to wait until closer to dinner to make it.  Micah’s lunch tray was ready and she was able to set it on top of the basket she was having him send down to her family to carry it up to his attic work space.

                Once upstairs, she had to call out to him like usual to open the door for her.  She set the basket near his work table and continued to the side board to set the tray down and replenish his water.

                “Is this the basket?”  She smiled as she nodded.  “I see the honey.  No oranges?”

                “Not this time.  Next basket I’ll add some.”

                “Sounds good.”  He hefted the basket and located her village.  He closed his eyes for a few moments as he communicated with Darius that Chelsea was sending a basket to her family and that there was also a letter for him to read.  When he opened his eyes, the village seemed to grow larger on the table as he focused in on it.  Soon, the village temple took up all the space on the table.  The air shimmered as he lifted the basket over the table and as he lowered it, it disappeared.  She could see that it reappeared in the temple from the view he had of the temple.  “There.  Darius will pray to me when your parents arrive and we can watch their expressions as he reads them the letter.”  He smiled.

                “That was amazing.  How often do you do that?”

                “Usually a couple times a week, but sometimes more often.  It depends on what there is an abundance of that can be sent down to the earth or sometimes the villages will have needs that I can help them meet.”

                As they spoke, the view of his lands went back to normal and a person appeared above them.  “Micah, we need to speak.”  The person was male and was older appearing than Micah.  Micah had a slightly ageless look to him where he appeared anywhere from 20 to 35.  This man looked to be in his 40s or 50s.  He was still handsome, but his older appearing age confused Chelsea.

                “Luther, how can I help you?”  Micah replied calmly.  Chelsea tuned out the conversation as they spoke of territories and encroachment as she tidied up the side board and took the empty pitcher down with her.  She crossed in the background behind Micah as she headed to the door.  One moment she felt fine, but the next she felt horrible.  Waves of chills and heat coursed through her body as her limbs grew weak.  The pitcher slipped from her grasp and shattered on the floor.

                As Micah whipped his head around at the noise, he saw Chelsea stumbling, with a hand to her head as though dizzy.  “I…I…I don’t feel so good….”  She got out just before collapsing.