To Be Chosen By A God

Chapter 3

                He made a pulling gesture above her left hand, drawing all of the lye from beneath her nails and all that was becoming embedded in her skin.  She continued to scream in pain, not seeing Micah kneeling next to her through her tears and when he held her hand in his, she screamed louder in pain.  Her hand was a mass of lesions and red blistered skin.  Healing was not something he was great at and it was dependent on intimacy; the greater the level of intimacy, the more he could heal.  The other half of it, was love.  He could not heal a person he didn’t care for and they needed to care for him in order for it work unhindered.  He hoped that she still had some care for him and he exerted what ability in healing he could.  He added some intimacy by kissing her fingertips, fingers, palm and the back of her hand.

                The screaming eased enough for him to offer her advice.  “Chelsea, the healing will make you tired as your energy gets depleted while you heal, so let yourself fall asleep.  It will be better for you.”  The screaming faded to sobbing and eventually she was knocked out by the overwhelming need to rest.  He caught her as she fell.  He looked over at the book that was opened next to her and saw that even the page she was opened to had the warning about the lye in large letters.  He grabbed the book and tucked it at the waistband of his pants and lifted Chelsea into his arms.  He turned and with a step transported himself to the bedroom.  He laid her down and sat next to her on the bed, continuing to hold her hand between his.  He kissed it all over again to help deepen the healing.  Her sleep was not sound, concerned about her, he entered her dreams.

                The surroundings were indistinct but looked vaguely like his home.  He was to the side of her and she was running as hard as she could, but wasn’t going anywhere.  Her face was panicked and she would glance over her shoulder every now and then.

                “I’m so behind now.  I’ll never catch up!” She cried to herself.  The next time she looked over her shoulder there was a being running after her, unhampered by whatever held her in place.  The being was a man, and as it came into view, Micah realized it was a terrifying version of himself.  This version was a little larger than himself with the face twisted in a sick and frightening grin.

                “You haven’t dusted, you haven’t made lunch, or filled the basin for the bathing chamber, or done the laundry!  You must be punished!”  He held a riding crop in one of his hands and smacked the palm of his other hand.  Micah was horrified that this is what she thought of him.  When the twisted version of him caught up to Chelsea, he grabbed her and lifted her by the hair, causing her to scream out.  He couldn’t watch the scene play out any further so forced the dream to dispel and move on to the next dream.

                The next dream sequence showed their bedroom.  The other version of Micah sat on the edge of the bed naked.  Chelsea stepped from the attached bathing chamber dressed in her nightgown, but it was shorter and thinner than the nightgown she had worn before.  The other Micah looked over at her with a lecherous grin on his face.

                “Get into bed, Chelsea.”  He said, but the intonation was different.  It was the intonation of one who wanted to do more than just sleep next to the girl.  As soon as she laid down, chains with manacles attached clamped upon her wrists and held her with her arms raised over her head.  She let out a fearful mewl and the other Micah stood up and gestured over her, causing her nightgown to rip from her body.  She cried out in fear.  “Now be a good bed warmer, girl.”  The other Micah was moving toward her and he couldn’t stand to watch anymore.  She didn’t hate him; she was terrified of him.  He destroyed the dream version of himself with a thought.  Chelsea looked over and saw him standing here and she tried to pull away from the chains binding her, to run away.

                Micah grabbed the blanket from the bed and covered her naked form and then removed the manacles, causing them to disappear from the dream.

                He sat down on the edge of the bed and held her in this dream so that she would not go on to another.  “Chelsea, I’m going to send you into dreamless sleep for the rest of the time you need to rest.  When you wake up, we clearly need to talk.”  He reached over, and poked her forehead.  The dream Chelsea’s eyes rolled back and she fell asleep on the bed.  In a few moments, everything faded away and Micah pulled out of her dreams.

                He sat on his side of the bed with his back against the headboard and transported the book he was reading last night to his hand.  He opened the book to the page marked with a bookmark and began reading.  When it was lunch time, he transported a hot bowl of the stew from last night that she was planning on using for lunch to himself.  By the time he was finished with lunch, she was beginning to stir.  He knew she would be hungry after the amount of healing he did so he transported another bowl of hot stew and a lap table for her to eat from.

                As she roused she noticed where she was and that her hand didn’t hurt anymore.  She sat up and then felt the movement next to her.  She started as she saw Micah.  She remembered what he had said in her dream after he had seen her naked and chained up to the very headboard he was leaning up against.  She was certain he was going to be angry with her for the dreams she was having, but she couldn’t help her dreams.  It was a relief when he had made it so she wouldn’t dream anymore.

                He got up from the bed and set the book he was reading down.  He went over to the lap table he had summoned to the low bench in front of the foot of the bed.  He picked it up and placed it over Chelsea’s legs.  “You should be very hungry after that healing.  Eat up.”  As she ate, he went back to the other side of the bed and went back to what he had been doing while waiting for her to wake up.  He was a very patient man and could wait the extra time for the answers he needed.

                When she finished, she looked like she was going to take the bowl and tray downstairs when he made a negligent gesture with his eyes still on his page and the bowl and tray disappeared.  “I told you we need to talk.”  He finished the page, set the bookmark and closed the book.  His steel colored eyes pierced hers and in them she could see the centuries that weighed down on him, the losses he had endured, and most of all, the care he had for her.  She was stunned and found she had a hard time looking away from his eyes.  She finally pulled free and turned her face away so that she would not be caught again.  He approved.  He knew that a mortal looking into a god’s eyes as she had was mesmerizing.  That she had pulled her own gaze away showed that she had a strong mind.

                “Why did you immerse your hand in the lye?  There was even a warning on the page you were opened to.”  He showed her the page with it’s warning.

                “I can’t read.”  She looked ashamed.  “Mother taught me my numbers and showed me what the different scoops measured.  They each have little symbols etched on them so I knew how many of that symbol to use and all of the ingredients are labeled, so I matched up those symbols too.  My mother taught me what she knew, but neither her or father could read either.”  She drew her legs up and hugged them.

                Micah nodded in understanding.  Many of the women he had taken for a wife had been illiterate.  None had done what Chelsea had though.  It proved that not only did she have a strong mind, but that she was also very self-reliant and street smart.  He visibly relaxed and relief showed on his face.

                “You thought I did it on purpose?”  She didn’t need his answer.  The visible relief that she had not known what she was doing spoke volumes to her.  “I never want to feel that again.  It was horrible and the pain didn’t decrease until you started healing me.  I didn’t think I could bear it the first time.”  She buried her face in her knees.

                “As it was, I was unable to heal you completely.  There are, of course, the scars on your fingers from when the skin opened up, but for whatever reason, there is an area on the tip of your first finger that I couldn’t get the feeling to come back to.”

                She lifted her head and looked at her hand, flexing it and moving the fingers around.  “You mean here?” she asked.  He nodded.  “Oh, that’s normal.  It’s been like that since I was seven I think.”

                “What happened?”

                “Nothing really happened.  It’s when my mother taught me how to spin.  I enjoyed it so much that by the end of the night, my finger would be numb from the wool passing over it as that’s the hand I hold the wool with.  In the beginning, if I didn’t spin so much for the next couple days, the feeling would come back, but there was always so much spinning that needed to be done that the fingertip never fully healed.  It’s been permanently numb since I was nearly eight.”

                “I don’t think I’ve ever heard any of my…”  He didn’t want to say ‘past wives’ in front of her, to remind her that he had loved before her.

                “Previous wives?”  She supplied.

                He nodded.  “Yes, I don’t remember any of them mentioning this ailment.”

                “I may have spun wool more than they did before coming here, but to me, it’s just something I don’t even think about anymore.”

                “Perhaps it will heal over time.”  She nodded in agreement.  It was always a possibility.

                “I want you to learn to read. You usually spend an hour or two doing laundry every day, so instead of laundry, you will begin taking lessons from Margaret.  Don’t worry about the laundry, it will get done.”  She nodded her acceptance.

                “I want to talk to you about the nightmares you were having.  Do you have them often?”  She nodded.  The last two nights had been horrible despite waking up so refreshed.  “You think that I would beat you if you didn’t dust or refill the water basin?”  She looked down, still hugging her knees to her chest.  “Chelsea, I…..”  He looked away, searching for the words.  He rubbed a hand down his face.  “A very long time ago, I decided that I needed companionship.  Having another god as a partner is not a thing that lasts very long as we would get jealous of our territories and possible encroachment.  For this reason, I decided to take a mortal wife.  She was a talented weaver, but that changed over time.  She began to think of herself as being better than other mortals.  She became snobbish and looked down on other mortals.  She didn’t even care when her parents died.  I sometimes wonder if she thought she either became or would become a goddess in my company.  At first, she stayed with me while I tended to my territories and listened to the needs of my priests and priestesses as well as my people.

                “She grew bored and rather than taking up a pursuit of her own, she began leaving the Haven without me knowing about it.  She would leave, do who knows what, and then come back before I realized she was gone.  This was dangerous for me for her to do this.  If another god or goddess saw her leave the Haven, they would have taken her and demanded the secret to the entrance of it.  They would have tortured her if need be to get this information.  You see, there are only three ways a god can die; suicide, loss of followers which leads to aging, so death by old age, or to be killed by another god.

                “One day she came to me to tell me she was pregnant and how excited I should be.  Gods and mortals can’t conceive children together.”  He put his hands over his eyes.  “I was different then.  I became very angry at her and terminated the child and kept her separate from me so that she wouldn’t keep the longevity she would normally have from being around me.  She would have had centuries, but I cut her life span down to decades.  I made sure she was fed, but that was the only contact we had after that until she died.

                “I was alone for a long time after that trying to find out where it went wrong.  What you probably don’t know about me is that my specialty is war, so I pride myself on planning and strategy.  I needed the companionship but I needed a better plan of action so that she wouldn’t become bored and seek her entertainment elsewhere.  I made this house after that and started to bring on mortals to work the land and I decided that my new wife would have responsibilities of her own.  She would make her own food.  I know that cooking can be an all-day thing, so I hoped it would keep her occupied.

                “It did and didn’t.  The fact that I didn’t eat or need to sleep made our differences more obvious to her and made her uncomfortable in my company, so she began cooking for me too and I discovered the joys of sweet foods.  I also started to sleep at night with her.  She too became bored with this life, but rather than betraying me, she came to me and asked to learn how to make pottery.  I made the appropriate tools for her and I found a potter for her to watch.  I made viewing crystals so she could watch a thing over and over again and she became very skilled.  It was then that I realized that when a woman comes here after being chosen, she would need things to do, to occupy her time, and to feel useful, but to also come to know me too.

                “When you first came here, you prostrated yourself before me, despite that never being a thing taught in my temples.  You are not the first to do that.  I found that making me meals and cleaning my dirty laundry, and spending time together in the evenings would help a potential bride to stop only seeing me as a god to worship, but also as a man to love.  I found hate to be the key.  If I could get a new bride to hate me first, she stopped just seeing me as a god and could begin to see me as a man.

                “You were never going to hate me.  You were only going to fear me and that tore at me.  When I saw how you saw me in your dreams, I couldn’t keep doing this.  I had to tell you what I usually don’t reveal for many years.  Margaret warned me you were going to be different from the rest and she was right.  If you haven’t already figured out from what I’ve already said, I will never r**e you.  I would never chain you to the bed.  If in the future, you find you like to be restrained during s*x, I might use a silk scarf and wrap it loosely around your wrists, but what you dreamt; that will never happen. When and if we do have s*x, it will be because you want to.  Besides, I’m not ready to have s*x with you even if you wanted to right now.  I don’t know you nearly well enough for that.”  He smiled.

                His presence was still overpowering to her and that combined with embarrassment over him seeing her naked in her dream and her shame that she was illiterate and it had come to this for them to talk overpowered her.  Tears began to stream down her cheeks and she began to cry as the stress of the situation began to leave her body.

                He understood what was happening.  She had held all of that stress inside.  She could have spoken with Margaret, but held everything in; held in the fear and had worked so hard to avoid a displeasure that would have never happened.  He reached over and lifted her onto his lap.  She shook with the surprise of it, but he just held her across his lap with her head tucked under his chin. 

                “It’s ok.  Release that stress and we can start anew.”  He rubbed her arm slowly and languidly, letting her cry out her stress and embarrassment and her shame.  As her shaking and tears abated, he seemed to pull a handkerchief from the air.  He lifted her face so he could begin drying her eyes.  As he wiped her tears, he couldn’t help but kiss her forehead.  When he was finished wiping her tears, he again appeared to pull something from the air, but this time it was a cup of water.  “Here, drink up.  You have lost a lot of water and I wouldn’t want you to become dehydrated.”  He helped her to raise the cup to drink from it.  When it was empty, he made the cup disappear.  He tucked her head back to his chest as he tightened his arms around her and lifted her.  She clutched at him with the sudden movement but he made soothing sounds to her.

                He carried her to the bathing chamber and sat on the edge of the large stone and tile tub.  She watched as he gestured over it and it filled with steaming water.  He tested the heat and found it to be good.

                “You’ve had a very trying and stress-filled day so far and it’s only a little after lunch.  What I want you to do is take a long hot bath.  Take the time to scrub yourself with the pumice and cleanse your skin and hair and use the oils on your skin and hair as well.  I would suggest you use the lavender.  It has a calming and soothing effect on the mind.  Don’t come out until you are truly ready to start over.”  He set her on the edge of the bath and then gestured to an alcove and a change of clothing and towels appeared there.  The clothing was well made and not any she had brought with her, but were of a style she would have worn back home only in purple.  While she was still in shock, he kissed her temple and left the chamber, closing the door behind him.

                While she was doing as he asked of her, Micah transported himself down to the kitchen where he knew Margaret was.  Margaret was working on dinner, knowing that Micah would not expect Chelsea to get back to work that day.

                “Is everything ok?  I rushed in when I heard her screams, but you were already working on her.  Why did she put her hand in the lye?”

                “She doesn’t know how to read.  She was just matching symbols so didn’t know those symbols meant lye or that it was dangerous to her skin.  I told her that instead of laundry she is to take reading lessons from you.  I told her everything.  More or less at least.  There is still much she needs to know in time.  She is currently taking a bath.  When she comes down, make sure she doesn’t over extend herself.  The healing will have taken more out of her than she’ll realize.  The soap making will be a useful and low energy thing for her to do.”

                “Of course, Micah.”  He turned and transported himself back to the bedroom and waited for Chelsea to exit the bathing chamber.

                After a long soak and scrub, she felt cleaner than she had in a long time.  She toweled herself dry and got as much of the moisture from her hair as possible before donning the clothing Micah had left for her.  The undergarments were of linen.  They were light weight and delicate and far more luxurious than any she had ever owned.  The dress, while simple, had been dyed a dark purple.  Even people who could afford purple, rarely dyed their items so darkly as the expense would have been enormous.  The socks were an undyed wool but were extremely soft.  He had even left her new shoes.  They were a simple ankle high light weight boot and the leather had been dyed a sensible brown.  The leather was soft and supple and felt as if they had been tailored specifically to her feet so there would be no need to break them in.  When she came out, she had her hair wrapped up and held in place with a hand so that she didn’t drip all over the beautiful clothes Micah had left for her.  She started when she saw him, not expecting him to have waited for her.  He was sitting on the low backless bench at the foot of the bed.  He stood and walked towards her.

                “Come, turn around and let me have your hair.”  She turned around, still coming to terms with everything.  She felt his hands in her hair so she let go.  He ran his fingers through her hair and after a few moments, her hair was dry.  “I haven’t dried it all the way.  I didn’t want to cause your hair to dry out completely.  But now you don’t have to worry about your clothing getting wet.”

                “Thank you.  For the clothing too.”

                He smiled.  “You’re welcome.  That color looks good on you.  For the rest of the day I want you to take it easy.  That healing took more out of you than you realize and you will tire quickly.  Margaret is downstairs working on dinner and I’ve asked her to show you how to make soap the safe way.  I must get back to work.  I’ll see you tonight.”  She nodded and watched him leave the room.  He didn’t look back at her.

                Chelsea exited the room and headed down to the kitchen to find Margaret.

                “Hello Chelsea!”  Margaret beamed.  “How are you feeling?”

                “Like I’ve been spun around so much that I’m going to be sick.”  She replied.

                “That was a deep healing he did.  I don’t know if he thought he would be able to do as well as he did.  I only see a few scars on your hand.  Any stiffness or lack of movement?”  Chelsea shook her head.  “That’s good.  You’re very lucky.”  Margaret walked over to where the soap making materials were and pulled out a pair of gloves that would cover the wearer to just past the wrist.  “A long time ago, Micah designed and made these gloves.  Or I should say, he designed this type of glove.  It’s special in that lye is unable to stick to it, so that even if you were to immerse the glove into lye, and then remove it, you could touch it with your bare hand and have no ill effects.”  Margaret pulled out the book that Chelsea had been using.  “Micah said you were open to this page which is for laundry soap.  I take it you were just doing one batch.  We’ll do a double batch of each soap kind, ok?”

                “Ok.”  She replied as a blush crept across her cheeks.  She was embarrassed that she was going to take reading lessons.  She felt like it was something she was supposed to already know how to do.

                “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Chelsea.  Everyone starts out not knowing how to read.”  She set the pot full of soap materials on the stove and set the heat and began working on the next soap.

                “It’s just that…  I just don’t understand why he would have chosen someone like me.  He’s probably had such sophisticated wives that probably knew how to dance, or could make lace, or make delicacies I couldn’t even dream of, or I don’t even know.”  She put her face in her hands.

                “You don’t think that I could teach you any of that?  Or that Micah wouldn’t love to teach you how to dance?”  She chuckled.  “People aren’t just born sophisticated, they’re taught!  Besides, who said anything about Micah liking a sophisticated woman?  He wants you to be able to read so that you will be safe.  Also, he enjoys reading and wants you to have the opportunity to enjoy it too.”  While she made the various types of soap, Margaret explained what she was doing and why.  When it came time for the bath soaps, she pulled out a chest of undiluted oils in all different kinds of scents.  She also brought out two small empty bottles.

                “I don’t typically scent the soaps used for laundry or dish cleaning, but for the kind you use on your body or hair, it’s nice to scent it.  One of these batches will be for you and one for Micah.  I want you to experiment with the oils.  You can mix oils or use a single scent.  I would suggest that to begin, you only combine no more than three scents.”  She separated out a few of the oils.  “These are very potent and in large amounts can cause irritation to the skin.  If you use any of these, use no more than two drops.  They are very potent scents and will still come through other scents, so don’t worry about using so little of them.  Should you get any on your skin of any of the oils, wash your hands.  It’s ok to wait until you’re done to wash them, but you cannot touch your face at all.  If you were to scratch an itch near your nose or eyes, the oil would make your skin feel like it’s burning.  It wouldn’t cause any permanent damage unless you tried washing your eyes with the oil, but it would hurt.”  Chelsea nodded her understanding.  “How were the bath oil levels?  Any that need to be replenished?”

                “The lavender was getting low.”  She replied.

                “Ok.  We can make that too.  Those don’t take long at all to make.  I think you’ll be amazed at how simple they are.”  Margaret smiled.

                Chelsea began to select oils, sniff them and then after finding a few she liked, putting the bottles close together and sniffing them that way to get an idea of how the scents would combine.  The scent she created for Micah was musky and earthy and the one she created for herself was a combination of floral and citrus.  After creating the scents, she washed her hands.  She didn’t think she had gotten any oil on her hands, but her nose was itching and she didn’t want to risk it.

                The soap batches were ready to add scent.  Margaret checked the scents created and was amazed at how complicated the scent for Micah was and how simple and perfect the scent for Chelsea was.  “You’re a real natural at this, Chelsea!”

                Chelsea blushed at the compliment.  “Thank you.”  She watched as Margaret added the scents and then added a little bit of a liquid dye.

                “The dye is enough to color the soap but it won’t color your skin.”  She explained.  After stirring everything in, she poured the contents of each pot into large rectangular molds.  “Once they cool and set, we’ll remove the soap and cut it into manageable blocks.  But for now, we’ll put them in the cooler so they set faster.”  Chelsea helped move some food items around to make room for the molds and helped Margaret get them all into the cooler.  “And that is how you make soap.”  Margaret smiled.  “I’ll be right back with that bath oil bottle.”  A few minutes later, Margaret was back with the bottle.  She then showed Chelsea how to make more of the bath oil which, as she said, was very easy.  “We’ll just leave this bottle here and it can go up with you later.”

                By the time Chelsea helped Margaret to put everything away and wipe down the counters, dinner was ready.  Chelsea helped Margaret to plate everything and set the table for three.

                “Not that one, Chelsea.  That’s for tomorrow morning.  I’ll be by in the morning to teach you how to make pancakes.  They’re one of Micah’s favorites.”  She grinned.  Chelsea brought back the container of what she would later learn was syrup and Margaret set it out of sight and used the crystal to put it in stasis.  When they turned around, Micah was already standing at the table.  “I hate when he sneaks up like that!”  Margaret complained.

                “You would prefer I wear bells?”

                “I might.”  She shook her finger at him playfully.  They way these two were with each other surprised Chelsea.  They acted like siblings or uncle and niece instead of god and vassal.  Chelsea moved to the seat at Micah’s right while Margaret sat at his left.

                Chelsea was surprised at how hungry she was and spoke little during dinner. 

                “How have you been, Margaret?  I hear one of the men at Haven have caught your eye.”  He smiled, making his eyes twinkle with an air of mischievousness.

                “His name is Dustin.”  She replied.

                “The same Dustin who used to put frogs in your bed, who, I might add, you once asked me how I would feel about maiming?”

                “We were just kids then, Micah.”  She looked over at him and he had a calculating look on his face.  “Don’t you dare.”

                “What?”

                “You’re going to take him aside and ‘talk’ to him, aren’t you?”

                “Why would I ever do that?”  The mischievous twinkle in his eyes was more evident now.

                “Because I know you well enough to know it’s just something you would do.  You realize he’s apologized for the frogs and I’ve accepted, right?”  The look on Micah’s face didn’t change.  She smacked his arm.  “Just don’t, Micah.  I’ll be really mad at you.”

                The look in his eyes faded as genuine care filled them.  “Ok.  But he makes you cry once in anything other than extreme happiness and I’ll rethink maiming him.”  He squeezed her hand.

                “Deal.”

                “Thank you for dinner.  It’s very good as always.”

                “Any time, Micah.”

                The exchange confused Chelsea.  He was her god, wasn’t he?  And she smacked him and he didn’t even care.  The way she spoke to him was a combination of best friend, uncle, parent, and sibling.  Micah knew she was confused.  She had never seen him interact with any of the inhabitants of the Haven or anyone else for that matter.  Compared to how cold he had acted with her in the beginning to this easy, friendly banter must be throwing her for a loop.

                “Are you ok, Chelsea?  You’ve been very quiet.”  He asked her.

                “I’m ok.”  She avoided looking directly at either of them as she tried to sort out everything that had happened since she got there only two days ago.  She was emotionally drained with all the highs and lows.  When she had been told she was chosen by Darius, she had been elated.  She would be able to worship her god in the flesh.  Loving him as a husband would come later, she was sure, after she continued to show him her devotion to him.

                When she arrived, she had not accounted for his presence.  It was intense and made her want to show him how much she respected him so had prostrated herself in front of him.  This had only seemed to upset him though.  His words to her after that were a blast of ice water to her soul.  That she was to cook, clean, and serve him in bed as his, as he called it, bed warmer, was not how she had thought being his wife would be.  It certainly didn’t even emulate the relationship her parents had with each other.  She had even expected there to be an immediate wedding, but he had just left her to her own devices after showing her around.  On top of it, he hadn’t even showed her around except to the kitchen and the bedroom, the two places she assumed he felt were her only uses.

                She had truly expected to be r***d that night, but he hadn’t touched her once.  When she had left the bedroom to cry, she was certain he had come to either beat her or r**e her, but he had only put her to sleep and taken her back to the bed and she was even more sure now than she was the next morning that he had cleaned her face before getting in next to her to sleep.

                The next morning, she resolved to show him her devotion and worship him in what she did for him; in making him food and keeping the house.  She would please him in this way and hopefully he wouldn’t decide to r**e her at night.  He again didn’t touch her that night, so she resolved to do the same every day.  Work hard so that she could please him and pray that he wouldn’t finally decide he wanted her body too.  Seeing him naked the two times she had walked into the bedroom in her nightgown had been terrifying and she still didn’t understand why he did it.  She puzzled over this as Margaret and Micah said their goodbyes and Chelsea cleared the table.

                Micah led her to the sitting room, lowered the temperature in the room and set the logs in the fireplace on fire.  He sat her down on the chair next to his.  “Do you want me to bring down your spinning?”  She shook her head.  “Would you like me to read to you?  I have many collections of short stories.”  She shook her head again.  “Then maybe talking to me would help you.  You seem to have a lot on your mind.”

                She looked up at him, again catching his eyes and again seeing what she had seen in them before; the countless centuries he had lived, the love and loss he had endured, but most of all, the love and care for her she could see there.  A god, her god, loved her as a woman, not as a vassal, not as a servant, but for her.  She tore her eyes from his and he was again, impressed that she had such willpower.  It spoke well of her.

                “I’m just trying to wrap my mind around everything I thought I knew and everything I’ve learned of you so far.”  He nodded in understanding.  It was normal that the two would be so different.  “I just don’t understand so much.”

                “Like what?”  He asked gently.

                “What you even see in me.  I’m not pretty, I’m not educated, and I come from a poor family.”

                “I think you are a poor judge of beauty if you think for a moment that you aren’t.  If you are referring to your rough hands and strong body, you should know that these are things I’m partial to as a god of war.  They show that you are strong and unafraid of hard work.  Your face and form are very appealing and would be to any man.  Your education is superficial because what you would gain at the finest university pales in comparison to an education you could have here if you chose to.  And lastly, wealth is meaningless to me.  I could drape you in the finest jewels and silks and precious metals, but for what if they make you uncomfortable?  There is no aristocratic society to impress here, so why not wear what is simple and comfortable?  Besides, for the most part, people who grow up in wealth don’t appreciate it.  A simple handmade braided leather bracelet would mean more to me than something made with gold and gems you purchased in a market if you had made the leather bracelet with your own hands.  But a person who grew up in wealth would expect the gold bracelet and scoff at the handmade item.  Do you understand?”  Chelsea nodded but didn’t appear completely convinced.  It was ok, he would have all the time in the world to show her he meant what he said.  “Is there more you wish to ask me?”

                “I….when I would come out of the bathing chamber dressed for bed, the last two nights you have been naked.”  She colored at the memory.  “It was as if you wanted me to see you, or to make me afraid you would decide I was to begin my duties as your bed warmer.  Why did you do it if it wasn’t your intention to r**e me?  Were you being cruel?”  He could see the tears in her eyes.

                “People typically pray to me either in the morning when they first wake up or in the evening right before they go to bed or sometimes both.  Prayers that are done in one of my temples are a little louder than prayer anywhere else, but I do hear them all.  Being able to respond to wants and desires is not always possible, but I do hear them.

                “In the morning, they are what typically wake me up so I go and take a shower so that when I become distracted by the volume, I am not being rude to anyone I may be in the presence of by ignoring them.  In the evening, I suggest we go to bed just as they begin.  As I’m undressing, it’s very easy to become distracted by the prayers and I will often sit on the edge of the bed until they ebb in volume and I’m not so distracted.  When you would come into the bedroom, your fear would cut through the prayers long enough for me to put on a pair of sleeping pants which I normally don’t wear to bed, so it’s not always something I’m going to remember to do until I see you.  I was not trying to be intentionally cruel or to make you afraid of me.”  He watched her as her body seemed to relax with relief.

                “But why do you have me share your bed?  There are a number of rooms that I could easily use.”

                “Have you noticed how refreshed you feel in the morning without any of the normal aches and pains you would normally experience?”

                “I just thought it was the bed.”

                “You know that I can heal with physical contact and intimacy.”  She nodded her head.  He had explained that earlier.  “By being near me during the evenings and at night, it allows just enough healing to have you wake refreshed and pain free.”

                “But I wasn’t around you so much that first day and I woke up refreshed.”

                “I was near you, you just couldn’t see me.  I was in the next room, sitting down and leaning against the same wall you were.  Besides, had you hated me instead of feared me, it would have been another reason for you to hate me that I kept such a tight leash on you at night.”  Her astonishment showed on her face and after a few minutes where she asked no more questions, he asked, “Now, are you sure you don’t want your spinning or for me to read to you?”

                “I’m sure.  I’m still tired from the healing and the emotional highs and lows of the last couple days.”  She curled up on the chair and stared into the fire, eventually falling asleep.