To Be Chosen By A God

Chapter 5

                Inside the bathing chamber, her soap and a few of the body oils she tended to use were already there along with a few towels.  She took a shower, dried off, got dressed, and headed back to the bedroom to wait on Micah as he had asked her to.  When he came out, he was only wearing a towel, so she quickly averted her eyes from him.  He quickly got dressed and came to sit next to her on the bed.

                “Sorry, I’m not used to there being anyone in here when I come out of the shower.”  She gave him a quick smile, a lifting of the corner of her mouth as she nodded her understanding.  “Now, tell me about your nightmares.”

                She colored, not expecting him to care about a few nightmares.  “I…I was back home but the place was deserted.  It looked like no one had been there in years.  They were just gone.  I went to look for them and found myself in the forest that surrounds the village.  I could hear them, but I could never find them.  Sometimes they were just talking, sometimes screaming in pain, and sometimes laughing.  The entire time there was the feeling of demons all along the edges of sight.  The rest of my dreams were similar, but that was the last one and the one I can remember clearest.”

                “It sounds like a dream meaning that you miss them and feel you’ll never see them again.”  She nodded.  “I can’t bring them here for reasons you won’t care much about just now, but just know that I can’t.”  She nodded again.  “But I can do something else.  Come with me.”  He stood up and held out a hand for her to take.  She did so and he led her up to his attic workspace.  He stood over the table and found her village nestled in the middle of a large forest and surrounded on two sides with mountains and on another side with a crossable river.  He made that area appear larger on the table and then he found her house.  He concentrated and the air in front of them changed so it was like they were looking into the house.  He only focused on the main room so as not to catch anyone indecent.

                Chelsea gasped as Sophia came into view as she exited her room carrying laundry and dumping the load on the table before heading into her brother’s room and then her parent’s room carrying out similar loads of laundry.  The cauldron was over the fire and steaming as she took a bucket and drew out some of the water to take outside to the laundry tub.  Tears were again streaming down Chelsea’s face as she watched her sister go about her chores.  He held the images for as long as she needed.

                It was several hours later when she finally looked up at him with tears in her eyes.  “Thank you.  I….  I thought….”

                “No need to worry.  You know you can communicate with them after a fashion.  You can write them letters or send them items.  Some of the workers here who still have families on the earth will sometimes send them excess fruits or vegetables, or cloth.  I can send these items to the local temple and the priest delivers them.”

                “But my parents can’t read.”

                “But Darius can and could read them any letters you send or give them any items you make them or want them to have.  And then we could watch while they are read it if you like; hear their responses.”

                “Really?”  He nodded.  “I…I don’t know how to thank you.”  She looked away and down, hugging herself.

                “I accept hugs.”  He said lightly.  She barreled into him, hugging him tightly.  He wrapped his arms around her, relishing the feel of her body pressed to his.  As much as he wanted to hug, kiss, and hold her, their physical contact had been very brief as she didn’t seem to know how to be around him and was generally skittish to his touch.  This was the first time she had initiated a touch, though it was something he had verbally initiated.  She began shaking in his arms and when he looked down, saw that she had begun crying again.

                He rubbed her back as they hugged, letting her get everything out.  “I would not have kept you from your family, but to be honest, this usually doesn’t come up for a while and is something I eventually get asked about after they see some of my workers bringing in baskets filled with items and then leave without them.  And of course you would still be mad at me and ask Margaret about it and get to see that side of me.  You have thrown everything that normally happens on it’s head.  I will say this way is a bit quicker and its allowed me to get to hold and touch you sooner than normal which I like, but everything seems to be different this time around.  Quicker but it has caused you unnecessary injury.”

                “Why is it so different?”

                “I have never chosen a companion who was so devoted to me before.  Also you have a stubborn and independent streak I have not encountered before either.  For the most part, you are very self-sufficient.  There was very little in what I was asking you to do that you hadn’t done before, so asking for help was not something you would have done.  You must have felt like asking for help meant you were failing.”  She nodded her agreement with that last statement.  “I’m glad we’ve gotten you past that thought.”

                She had calmed down and pulled away from his embrace.  “I need to go make breakfast.”

                “Lunch, actually.  We’ve been up here for a while now.  I’ll come help you.  Everything looks quiet in my lands today.”  He led her down to the kitchen where they encountered Margaret who was waiting for Chelsea.

                “Is everything ok?  When I came in, it didn’t look like either of you had been down yet.”  She twisted her hands nervously.

                “Just a misunderstanding.  The reading lesson can be skipped for today.”  Margaret took the hint and left them.

                They cooked lunch together and she was amused when he would stir a thing with his power rather than use a cooking utensil.  They sat down together for lunch and when he left her, she was back to normal with her step a little lighter than it was before.  The evening meal required a little prep work now so she got that done and the rest could be done just before it went into the oven so the extra time she used to design the pattern for the clothing items she was making.  She was making a shirt for him and would do a maze embroidery around the collar and down the top of the arm and then from the armpit down to the bottom hem.  She also had enough cloth to make herself a skirt and had plenty left that she could send to her family to make a clothing item or two from.

                She used chalk to draw out the pattern and the measuring tape to ensure the items were going to be long and wide enough.  She was even able to cut out the items and pin the pieces together to see that they would fit together correctly.  There was a wooden dressing mannequin in the room so she was able to put the shirt on it to see how it would hang.  It looked correct, so she removed the shirt and readied the sewing needle.  She needed to go finish making dinner so would sew it together tomorrow.

                She did end up asking Margaret why Micah couldn’t just bring her family here.

                “Oh, that’s why you weren’t here this morning.”  Chelsea nodded.  “Well, there’s several reasons.  The older a person is, the harder it is to bring them here without killing them.  The stress of the move can cause strain on the heart.  It also requires a lot of energy for Micah to bring someone here.  After he brought you here, you probably don’t realize it, but he wasn’t back to full strength until your second full day here when you burned your hand with the lye.  While I’m not saying this would happen with your family, bringing them here to work on the lands has the possibility of making them feel more entitled over the others that live here because of who you are and your position here.  And lastly, bringing so many people from a single village not only robs them of being able to live their lives to the fullest there on the earth, but it can create an imbalance as things they did aren’t taken up by others.”

                “You mean the weaving and spinning we did in exchange for food or getting our roof rethatched?”

                Margaret nodded.  “Without your family there, who would do these things?  Or do them as well as your family?  Micah showed me a time during the choosing where an older man needed a new pair of pants and your family exchanged a few chores around the house that your dad or brother would have normally done for the spinning, weaving and sewing of a pair of pants.  I don’t think anyone else would have done that for him.”

                “It’s a yearly arrangement.  He brings us the wool for it and mends anything that has become broken over the year, like door hinges, fence posts, thatch and the like.”

                “But it’s because of small things like that why it would cause such imbalance to remove an entire family from a village.”  Chelsea took on a contemplative look as she thought about all that Margaret had said.  “Do you understand?”  Chelsea eventually nodded, understanding that it wasn’t that Micah didn’t want her family here, it was just that it was not only not easily done, but had the potential to be dangerous on more levels than she thought of.

                For dinner she had made a chicken pie with vegetables inside and a thickened chicken broth.  She had never had it before, but had found it in one of the recipe books.  She hoped it tasted as good as it smelled.

                That evening, after dinner, she continued to spin wool, but had found out from Margaret how to add silk and bamboo fibers to the wool to make a smoother feeling yarn and still be able to spin it in the same way she had been.  The color she was spinning was black.  She would never send such a color down to her family as people might think they were wealthy and try to rob them, but she had always liked the starkness of the color and thought about making Micah a pair of pants to go with the shirt or to make something for herself like a shawl.  There were a lot of pattern books for knitting and for something new to her that used a hook instead of a pair of needles.

                For the next few days she sewed and embroidered the clothing.  She used an ivy pattern for the embroidery at the bottom hem of the skirt she was making herself and embroidered that in the evenings when she was with Micah.  The shirt, she wanted to be a complete surprise and finished it a week and a half later at around the same time she finished the skirt.  She laid it down on the arm of his chair he sat in during the evenings and she knew he wouldn’t see it before dinner due to the way he appeared at the dinner table every evening.

                She was nervous during dinner, not knowing how he would feel about the shirt.  She knew it would fit, but didn’t know if he would like it.  He sensed that something was off, but their communication was much better now and she would likely talk to him when they went in to the other room.

                He led her into the room after dinner and saw the sky blue cloth on his chair.  The shirt was folded, so at first he didn’t realize what it was.

                “What’s this?”  He asked as he picked it up, unfolding it at he held it out from himself to see it properly.  “This is for me?”  He asked as he looked over at Chelsea.  She nodded shyly with a blush beginning to stain her cheeks.  “Let’s see how it fits then.”  He turned a little away from her as he removed his shirt.  She quickly looked away, granting him the privacy he didn’t seem to care about.  “It fits perfectly.”

                She looked over at him.  The shirt had just enough room at the chest and arms so that if he had to move around or lift something heavy, he could without feeling constricted and the hem at his waist was long enough to tuck into pants and not pull free with movement.

                “I like the embroidery.  I was wondering what you were going to use with such a small amount of silk.  I didn’t know you knew how to embroider.”  He had not been paying much attention to what she had been doing with the skirt she was making and had just assumed she was sewing or something.

                “Sure.  Sometimes we would add some light brown embroidery to the undyed clothing to make it seem a little nicer than it was.  My dad liked the maze pattern among a few others and I always like the ivy pattern.  My mom liked a rose pattern, but it’s intricate and would use more thread then the others so we would just do a single rose and leaves on the clothing item.  It would be a little bigger than it would be normally, but would take up much less thread.”

                “I know what I’m wearing tomorrow.”  He took the shirt off and replaced it with the one he had been wearing all day.  He folded it and set it back on the arm of the chair.  “Thank you.”  She blushed deeply at the praise.  He had many first attempts that fit poorly or had different length sleeves and had always accepted with good grace.  It was the mindset of the girl that was important.  She had typically stopped hating him when she would present him with a gift like this and it was usually when he would begin courting her.  He listened in on her mind, judging to see if she was ready to be courted.  It was so soon since she had arrived at the Haven, he wasn’t sure if she was truly ready or not.

                Did he really like it or is he just being kind?  He’s staring at me, did I miss something?  Wait…. He said thank you.  “You’re welcome.  I’m glad you like it.”  She finally squeaked out.  He smiled, confident now that she was ready to be courted.  She hadn’t made him the shirt out of fear, nor had she made it to praise him or as an act of worship.  She had made a man a shirt to share her talent and to show her appreciation for him.  They spent the rest of the evening with him reading and her spinning.

                The next day, when she went up to the attic with his lunch, as he looked over the tray, he said, “There’s something missing.”

                She looked down, confused.  She had remembered the ice water, his beer and frosted mug, the meal and even a honey cake.  “I don’t understand.  Everything is here.  What did I forget?”  She looked up at him.

                “This.”  In his hand was a small white wild flower that she had seen hundreds of times growing just outside her village.  He tucked it into her hair.  “Much better.”  She blushed at the attention as she left the attic.  She left the flower in her hair until it was time to get ready for bed.

                He did this for the next several days, always with a flower that she recognized either from the garden her family had or that grew just outside the village.  It was the fourth day of him doing this when she realized they were all flowers she had placed at the feet of the statue of him at her local temple.  On the fifth day, he did not place a flower in her hair.  She saw him make one of his gestures and there was a mischievous glint in his eyes as he thanked her for lunch.  When she went back down to the kitchen, on the dining table there was a glass vase filled with lavender, sweet pea, honeysuckle, and roses.  There was a small note on the table in front of the vase, so she picked it up and read it.

                “There is little in the world that compares to your beauty and grace.  These flowers are the only things I have found that come close.  I hope you enjoy them.    ~Micah”

                She was floored at his words.  No one had ever told her she was beautiful or graceful and this was the second time he had done so, though the first time was not so bluntly.  She clutched the note to her chest and smiled.  It was just like the kind of stories her mother used to tell her and her sisters before bed where the handsome prince courts the beautiful young maiden in secret.  She didn’t know he was a prince because he wanted a woman who would love him for himself and not his wealth and background.  The difference was that she knew who and what Micah was.  She didn’t understand why he was going through the trouble to woo her, he was a god after all and could have any woman he wanted.  Why he didn’t choose a woman from the Haven was beyond her.  He would have known them all since they either arrived or were born here.

                Oh…. If they were born here, they might have the same problem with being above the rest of the workers that Margaret mentioned.  And maybe they would treat people they disliked worse than the rest of the people, or raised friends to higher positions.

                She made dinner and when they ate together, he never mentioned the flowers sitting on the table or mentioned the note and neither did she.  They just would glance up at them every now and then, smile and go back to eating.  He didn’t make another move for several days when the flowers had begun wilting.  They had just finished dinner and Chelsea was clearing the plates.

                “Would you like to go riding with me?”  He asked.

                “Riding?”

                “Yes, riding.  On horses.”

                “Horses….”  She looked a little nervous.

                “I would never have you ride a horse like Nightshade.  The mare you ride would be as docile as can be and I’ll be right there.”  He held a hand out to her and she took it nervously.  He led her out the back kitchen door and past a couple buildings she had never been to before.  She had never strayed far from the mansion.  It wasn’t that she was afraid to stray from the mansion, just that she had little reason to.

                Soon she could smell the scents of horses and soon after, she could hear multiple horses whinnying.  As they neared the barn, a man was walking out.

                “Oh!  Hello, Micah.  Can I do anything for you today?”

                “Samuel, it’s good to see you.  How is your wife and child?”

                “Tamera is well, thanks to you, and little Devon is getting so big now!  You should see him, Micah.  He’s already walking!”

                “You or Tamera should bring him by, I would love to sit for you.”  Micah smiled.

                “I’m sure Tamera would love to take you up on that offer.  She says keeping track of Devon is a full time job all on it’s own!  But you didn’t come to talk about Devon.  What can I help you with?”

                “Can you help me saddle a pair of horses?  I’d like to take Chelsea for a ride.”

                “Of course, of course!  Any in particular?”  He asked as he opened the barn door and started heading towards the tack room that held all the bits and saddles.  Micah took one of the larger saddles and Samuel took a slightly smaller saddle.  They carried them to the staging area he often used to saddle horses.

                “Any for me, but the most docile one for Chelsea.  She’s never ridden before and I’d like her first experience to be pleasant.”  Samuel chose a palomino mare named Buttercup for Chelsea and Micah chose a spirited black stallion with white splotches and white hair named Stardust.  They saddled the horses and Samuel left them alone.  He turned to Chelsea.  “You have a choice.  You can either wear pants or a divided skirt.  Which would you prefer?”

                “I’ve never worn pants.  I’m not sure I would be comfortable in them.  Maybe another time.”

                “As you wish.  He gestured at her and she found herself to be wearing a blouse and a long skirt.  It felt weird because it was like two skirts.  One skirt, the one underneath, was divided front and back and the one on top was divided on either side.  The split went all the way up to nearly her hips.  The clothing was lighter than wool and was like nothing she had ever worn before.  She felt the fabric and it was softer than normal wool.  It was dark blue with embroidery that followed the bottom hem and up the splits in a tiny knot design in a dark, almost mustard yellow.  The blouse was embroidered at the neck and sleeve cuffs.

                “It’s beautiful.  I’ve never felt something so soft.”

                “It’s cotton and I’m glad you like it.”  He walked her over to the left side of Buttercup.  “Ok, lift your left leg and put your foot in the stirrup.”  She went to put her foot in the stirrup and found she over-balanced.  She hopped and he quickly put his arm around her, steadying her.  “It’s ok.  I’ve got you.”  He adjusted her foot in the stirrup so it was placed properly.  He took her hands and placed one on the saddle horn and the other on the back of the saddle’s seat.  “Ok, you’re going to push off with your right foot, use your left to lift yourself up and guide yourself with your hands.  When you are high enough, you’ll swing your right leg over and settle into the saddle.  Don’t worry, I have you so you won’t fall.  Ready?”  She nodded and so he counted to three and he helped lift her and guide her onto the saddle.  Once she was seated, he handed her the reins and then quickly mounted Stardust.

                The way he moved in the saddle, it was like he and the horse were one.  “Ok, you’re going to use your heels and tap the sides of the horse to go forward.  To get her to stop, pull back gently on the reigns.  To turn right, pull gently on the reigns to the right and same for the left.  You won’t have to do much to let her know where you want her to go.  Are you ready?”  She nodded nervously.

                He tapped his heels to the sides of Stardust and the stallion walked forward out of the barn.  Chelsea copied him and Buttercup followed after.  Every step the horse made jolted her spine.  She held herself stiffly and Micah could see her discomfort as she exited the barn.

                “You need to loosen your posture.  Each speed of a horse has a different rhythm.  You have to find that rhythm and let your body rise and fall naturally with it or you will be stiff and in pain by the end of the ride.”  She breathed out heavily and nodded.  “And breathe normally.  Let the horse do the work.”  She did her best to loosen how she was sitting.  He turned his horse to the road and started at a trot.  It took longer for Chelsea to turn her horse to the road, but the horse seemed to understand that they were together and cantered for a few paces and fell into a trot next to the stallion.

                “See?  It’s not so hard.  Find the rhythm of the horse.  Good.  This is a trot.  The next one up is the canter and finally the gallop.  Each pace is smoother than the last.  We don’t want to start them at a canter or a gallop until their muscles have had a chance to warm up.  We don’t want them injured, so we’ll let them trot for a while and you can get used to being on a horse.”

                “Ok.”  She replied, almost biting her tongue.

                “Careful.  Talking and riding can be hazardous to your tongue if you aren’t used to it.”  He smiled.  They trotted for about a half mile before they tapped the horses again and they sped to a canter.  They passed several out buildings for the mansion and a full mile out, they came to the beginnings of the fields.  On their right was corn and to the left was carrot.  She could see it better with the corn, the way the field was divided up so that every few weeks a new crop was ready to harvest.  They passed several such fields all with different crops and after a few miles, came to a village.  It was much larger than the one she had lived in her whole life, and her’s was not considered a small village.  The size was closer to what she associated with a city. 

                In the city they slowed back down to a trot and sometimes a walk as people called out greetings to Micah or spoke with him briefly.  He introduced Chelsea and they greeted her politely.  He explained that they were just riding around and he was showing Chelsea some of the areas nearby.

                When they exited the town, they traveled around the roads separating the other fields from each other.  She saw the fields for several of the other vegetables she used and then several of the various orchards where apples, oranges, and berries were grown. 

                “There are three other villages where the people stay.  The villages form a square with the fields spread out around them and between them.  There are also various out buildings where certain products are made like the oils.  The village in that direction,” He pointed, “is where all the livestock are housed and cared for.  There are also many pastures and fields where they rotate where the animals graze.  Most of the corn crop goes there as well as the oats and vegetable scraps.”  He looked up towards the sun and judged that they had enough time to get back home before dusk.  “Come on and let’s get back.  We’ll let the horses gallop.  They’ll enjoy it and the ride will be smoother for you.”  They encouraged the horses to run full out and as they got within a few miles of the barn, they slowed them down to a canter and then a trot and finally a walk for the last mile.

                “Why are we walking?”  Chelsea finally asked.

                “The horses are going back into the barn.  After running for so long, they need a cool down.  Once we get to the barn and I remove the saddles, we’ll brush them down which is also something they will need so they will be back to normal tomorrow.”  Back at the barn, he showed her how to dismount and then to rub them down and brush them out.  He could tell she was sore and uncomfortable by the way she moved.

                “Are you ok?  You look like you might be sore.”  He asked her as they brushed the horses together.

                “Nothing that a night’s rest shouldn’t be able to cure.”  She replied.

                “You will tell me if you are still sore in the morning?”  She blushed furiously.  Every time he had healed her, he had placed his hand or hands on the areas that needed healing, but the place she was sore was a very private area and the thought of his hands there flamed her cheeks.

                “I’m sure it won’t be necessary.”  She finally squeaked out.

                Realization struck him as he took a peek at her thoughts, not understanding why she would be embarrassed.  “Touching the area affected, while it helps me to heal, it isn’t always necessary.  I would never touch you in a place you weren’t comfortable with me touching.  At least knowingly.  I haven’t, have I?”  He asked worriedly.

                When he healed her cramping, he did touch her in a place she might have not normally been comfortable with, but he was very careful on how and where he touched her and it didn’t feel wrong to her, so she shook her head and he sighed in relief.

                They were walking back towards the mansion when he said, “Now you have more riding experience than your older sister.”

                She stopped walking and looked at him with her mouth slightly open in surprise.  “H-h-how did you know about that?”  He had proven that he wasn’t omnificent, so didn’t understand how he would know such a thing.

                “You remember that prayer in a temple comes across to me louder or clearer than praying elsewhere?”  She nodded.  “Speaking to one of my priests or priestesses comes to me much like prayer.  If it’s done in a temple, its clearer.  You were explaining to Darius about your broken arm the evening my name was placed on your hand.  While I paid more attention to such conversations that day, yours was easier to concentrate on because everyone else had already been marked.  Darius had spoken to me about you before this.  In a few years, he was going to suggest you become one of my priestesses, so I already had my eye on you in a manner of speaking.”

                They walked a few paces as Chelsea began thinking about those five months of the choosing.  Her mind went to that night she had been accosted and the ice that had been waiting for her.  “A boy from my village, Robert, accosted me.  I was certain he was going to r**e me but my mind got clear and I punched him as hard as I could in the face after kneeing him in the crotch.  When I got to the temple, Darius had ice there and said that you had sent it to him.”  He nodded, remembering the incident.  “Was that you?  I had never punched anyone in my life before then.”

                “It was.  If I walked the earth, I could only affect where I was.  I could affect more, but it would only be locally.  From the Haven, my affect is less, but I’m not so limited on where I can affect.  You called out to me which alerted me to your situation.  You were panicked, so I needed to calm you before I could help you.  I helped you search through your memories to find something that would help you.  When he was bent double due to that kneeing you gave him, I took control of your right hand.  I can only do such a thing in fairly rare circumstances and it was the only time I have ever been able to do it with someone who is not a priest or priestess of mine.  Your devotion to me is what allowed me through.  I wanted to kill the boy for what he had already done to you, but I don’t think you would have been the same afterward, thinking that you had killed him.  I was aware that punching was a new experience for you and knew that it would hurt.  I’m very sorry for hurting you like that.  When I saw that you were continuing to the temple, I did what I could to ensure you would be ok.”

                “It was a little tender the next day, but no swelling or bruising.  Did you know what happened to him after that?” 

                He nodded.  “Darius told me that he was going to the magistrate after he walked you home.  I was still very angry and refrained from ordering his death.”

                She could see that the conversation was angering him all over again.  His presence which she had been getting used to flared and it was almost suffocating.  She did the only thing she could think of.  She rubbed down on his forearm and placed her hand in his so that they walked holding hands.  The feeling of suffocation immediately lifted and he squeezed her hand reassuringly.

                “I’m sorry.”  He said softly.  “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”  She didn’t say anything, just gave his hand a squeeze of reassurance.  They were walking a cobble stone path with flower beds and benches along the sides.  They were still about fifty yards from the mansion when he slowed to a stop.  She looked up at him in the fading light and realized they had been out too long; evening prayers would be flowing in. 

                She looked around and spied a nearby bench.  “Come on Micah.  Just a few feet and you can take a seat on the bench.”  She led him over to the bench and he sat down.   He was able to mumble out a thanks, but his attention was elsewhere.  She chose not to sit next to him as she was still a little sore from the ride.  As the sun fully set, the temperature dropped enough that she was rubbing her arms to keep warm.

                “You’re cold.”  He said as he stood up.

                “I’ll be fine once we start moving.”

                He took her hands in his and rubbed them for a little while and then cupped them in his hands and blew warm air into the space.  “Is the rest of you this cold?”

                “A little.  I’ll warm up in no time.”  They continued walking back to the house and he led her to the room they typically spent the evenings in.  He had felt her shiver a few times so knew she was colder than she was letting on.  There was no wood laid in the hearth, but he didn’t need it.  He would be resting soon so expending the pure energy to create flames from nothing wouldn’t be too strenuous.  He grabbed an ottoman and set it in front of the hearth.  “But there’s no fire laid, Micah.”  She went to lay the fire, but he stopped her.

                “That won’t be needed.”  He raised a hand and concentrated.  A large fire blossomed in the hearth radiating heat.  She sat down on the ottoman and held her hands out to the log-less fire.  It didn’t take long for her to warm up.  When she had to move back from the flames due to the heat, he released the fire.  There was no sign that there had been a fire there except for the heat radiating from the stones of the hearth.  She looked up at him and could see he was tired, but he was smiling too.

                “Why are you smiling at me?”  She asked with a smile of her own on her face.

                “You held my hand and knew just what to do when the prayers started coming in.  You could have come sat next to me.  My own body heat would have kept you warm.”

                “Sitting on a hard bench didn’t sound like a good idea after such a long horse ride.”

                “Still sore?  At least you aren’t walking bow-legged anymore.”

                “A little.”

                He grinned mischievously, “Want me to heal it?”  She laughed and smacked his arm as she began walking up to the bedroom.  They were beginning to become comfortable around each other and this made him very happy.  In the bedroom, when she came out of the bathing chamber clothed for bed, he was already in bed waiting for her.  It was a pleasant change.