Kissed By The Rain Ch. 14

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

It had been over three months since the burial ceremony for Calm In Her Spirit, and still raw with emotion, Wanahca found it difficult to find joy in anything that she did. Sewing, however, was still very much therapeutic, and one of the few activities which brought her pleasure and a sense of peace.

Currently keeping busy at sewing beads onto a large piece of deer hide, Wanahca was careful and methodical in the way that she did it, wanting every little detail just right. The picture she was making with beads, was of two mounted warriors carrying coup sticks.

The work it took to create the scene was quite detailed, but loving to work on projects that needed preciseness and total concentration, Wanahca found herself completely content and in the moment. Sadness was still there of course, and tears sometimes welled in her eyes at the most random moments, but putting her fingers to work at sewing definitely helped.

There was no shame in grieving among the Lakota people, and it was believed to be healthy to heal from these wounds for up to a year. Grieving honors the lost relationship, she was told by people in the tribe, and so Wanahca just allowed herself to feel pain, without trying to avoid the tenderness of it.

Although now certain that stress had caused her baby’s death, she still couldn’t help feeling as if her body had somehow betrayed her. She also felt as if she’d failed as a woman, as the only task she’d needed to complete, was to carry the child full-term, then naturally deliver a live, healthy baby. Yet her body had completely failed this task, and for this she felt deep-seated shame.

Child bearing was highly valued in Lakota culture, and knowing she’d come so close just to deliver a dead child, had truly crushed her heart. It had crushed Dancing Wolf’s as well, and although he still showed plenty of love and let her know that he valued her, she couldn’t help feeling that she’d let him down. Another baby will come – everyone told her, but it did not help to ease the pain which was still very much felt in her heart.

She deep in her thoughts, she didn’t notice that Good Blanket Woman, who sat beside her watching her work, was closely eyeing the way that she applied each bead.

“Your hands move in a good way,” the elder said. “He will be proud to have this as a gift.”

“Who?” Wanahca asked, but the only response was a crooked smile from her grandmother-in-law.

“If this is made for my husband, then I am happy,” she said. “But if not, what other man will be given this piece of deer hide?”

“It is not just a piece of deer hide,” Good Blanket Woman proclaimed, and pointed out a spot that Wanahca needed to tighten up.

Thoroughly curious as to what on earth this project could be, Wanahca gave her grandmother-in-law a curious look, but the elder woman only lightly smiled.

Not speaking another word, Good Blanket Woman joined Wanahca in stitching on beads. The scene they created together stretched across the hide beautifully, and in perfect harmony, the two women continued to stitch.

* * * *

Intently at work on a creation of his own, Dancing Wolf held a chunk of buffalo bone in his hand. Having been soaked in water for hours to soften it up, it now served as a paintbrush. Eyeing the various colors which served as pigments for his art, he settled on blue, which had been created from the blossoms of a plant. Dipping his bone into the tint which was vibrantly cerulean, he then continued the picture on the animal hide.

Deep in concentration his brows came together, eyes zeroing in on the shapes which were created from his paint stick. As always happened whenever he was painting, Dancing Wolf lost all track of time. It didn’t take long before two hours had elapsed, and as the buffalo hide became filled with even more pictures which told a detailed story, he took a moment to check it all out.

On the left part of the hide, he’d created a scene which showed him discovering a female in the woods, who was clearly meant to be Wanahca. The scene stretched to show their courtship, then continued to the moment of their marriage ceremony.

Even the love they shared in intimate moments was also shown, two forms coming together in a passionate way. Out of respect for his wife, he had not shown her womanly areas, but it was clear to see from the picture, that they were engaged in an act of passion.

The pigment he’d used for her body had come from the earth, a deep rich brown that closely matched her skin. His own pigment was represented by a red-tinged clay, which he had procured from crushing up rocks. The picture as a whole showed they were deeply devoted as man and wife, but as the scene stretched out to the present moment, it now showed that there was a sadness.

This melancholic scene had been told with an image of Wanahca holding Calm In Her Spirit, while crying tears that fell onto the baby. Huge hands reaching from the sky represented the Creator, and it was then shown that their daughter canlı bahis was taken up and off from this earth.

This was where the pictures stopped, as there was nothing left to tell at present moment. But Dancing Wolf knew there was more to come, and that he and Wanahca would have more chances to bring children into the world.

This thought put a warmth in his heart, but still hurting so badly for Calm In Her Spirit, found himself wishing to see the face of his tiny daughter just once more. With every day that passed, he found it more difficult to imagine her face. Soon he would remember her features no more, but her tiny spirit would always be with him, and that put a comfort deep in his heart.

Sitting back against a tree which supported his back, Dancing Wolf listed to the sounds all around him. Wind slipping through leaves created a rustling noise, carrying with it a slight scent of flowers. Squirrels could be heard scurrying along trees as they went to their nests, and somewhere off in the direction of camp, there came a neigh from one of the horses.

Gradually the sky took on shades of orange and pink, letting him know that sunset was close. His stomach alerted him as well, as smells from the women preparing dinner back at camp, let him know it was dinner time.

Carefully gathering the painted hide which was now dry to the touch, Dancing Wolf slung it carefully over his shoulders, then mounted his horse for the ride back to camp. Already eager to chow down on his wife’s cooking he went full gallop, yearning to return to Wanahca’s side.

* * * *

The tipi smelled delicious as he entered, filled with the scent of bison meat which had been stewed with corn and turnips. Spooning it out for them to enjoy, Wanahca was ready to feed her husband. The dinner mat was already rolled out, and cozily warm in a way that really welcomed him home, the tipi was neat and proudly kept up.

Heading straight for his wife, Dancing Wolf knelt down to hold her, wrapping his arms around her form as she ladled food from out of the pot. Smiling at his touch she gave him a kiss, then turned her gaze to the hide around his shoulders.

“Is this a new buffalo robe?” She asked him.

Excited to show her, he rose to his feet, then stretched out the hide across their bed. Coming closer to view it, Wanahca took a moment to study the pictures. Along with the colors he used, she noticed the artistry with which he had drawn it. Admiring the work of his hands she deeply gazed, then marveling at the time it must have taken to create the stories.

“It is beautiful work,” she told him. “I had no idea you made stories of us.”

“Of course.” Kneeling behind her as she gazed, Dancing Wolf took her hand in his and gently stroked it. “I have done it bit by bit, with each important moment we shared together.”

Attention now focusing on one particularly amorous scene, she lightly blushed, then softly smiled.

“You even made the moment that our bodies first loved.”

“Why would I not?” He asked. “It was a very precious moment of my life, the time when our souls came together as man and wife.”

Touched by the scenes he’d created she shifted her body, lips pressing on his with a hot softness he really liked. His body responded to her immediately, and within seconds she was pressed on her back, looking small and vulnerable beneath his big manly form. Slipping beneath the hem of her dress, his palm touched the feminine warmth of her thighs, then travelled up further as it sought out her heat.

But then her palm came up to his chest, pressing firm in a way that he knew meant to stop. Already excited he found this very difficult, and chest clenching in disappointment he slowly pulled back.

“You do not want my touches.” Simultaneously insulted and hurt, his face took on a wounded expression.

“I do,” she said. “I just feel that my body still needs to heal.”

“Is it pain you are feeling from the birth?” He asked. “Because my grandmother can make a good medicine for that.”

“It’s not physical pain, but emotional…”

“Understanding this he nodded, but yet still gave her a look of cautious hope.

“I want to be with you,” she softly told him. “But I am worried to carry a baby again.”

“But if we made another child, would it not be a wonderful thing?”

“Of course,” she replied. “But if it did not live, I couldn’t take the pain of losing another.”

Seeing that fear was at the root of all this, he now understood why she’d shied from his intimate touches for the past few weeks.

Maybe we can wait just a little while longer?” She suggested, eyes soft and almost seeming to plead that he would not be mad with her.

With a nod he smiled softly, then removed his body so they were fully apart. He did his best to calm his body and relax his hormones, but the desire he felt for her could still clearly be seen. Lifting herself from the cushions they’d been on, she returned to the food, kaçak iddaa while he took a moment to take off his moccasins.

His hide shirt went next, coming to lay right next to his shoes, then he went to the mat where they always ate dinner. Taking his place right across from her, he took her hands, and together they prayed, giving thanks to the Creator who had provided the food which would nourish their bodies.

They ate in silence, but he could tell she was deep in thought, and after dinner was over they still had not spoken. Not liking her quietness he thought to make conversation, but the truth of it was, he just didn’t know how. What words could he say, to make her feel better?

She was clearly still hurting in a way far beyond his own pain, so what could he speak in order to heal that wound? She still loved him deeply and he definitely knew this, but something had changed and he did not like it.

As they lay together in bed he still lovingly held her, but her body was a little bit stiff. To him it felt as if this was meant to ward him off, to give him the signal she wasn’t interested, so that he wouldn’t even try. The pain was still fresh so he certainly understood that she was wounded, but having hugs and kisses was important to maintain some sort of bond in the marital sense.

He did not want to be pushy about asking to enjoy her body, but was it not a wifely duty she was expected to give? Having been very patient throughout their entire courtship, waiting wasn’t a thing he would normally struggle with. But having been married for some time now, it was completely normal and expected to frequently bond in that way, so going back to a place of celibacy seemed very strange and extremely unnatural.

Wanahca had always enjoyed having him inside of her, so this disinterest in making love had him wondering how long it would last. He could wait another month, and probably even another after that, but what if she still did not want him even then? It was not like her to deny him of this pleasure, and although he understood she was still in mourning for their daughter, he had hoped she’d want comfort in that physical way.

As all of these thoughts came into his mind, he was immediately hit with a feeling of utter self-loathing, as his need for sex was a selfish thing. But was it entirely selfish?

Making love, after all, was designed to be the primary way to keep their bond unbreakable. Wanahca just needed him to love her and of course he did, but he needed her intimacy in a way she could not fully understand.

Now breathing softly in a way that told him she was asleep, Wanahca had finally loosened up and become soft in a way that he really liked. Watching her face, he noticed how peaceful she looked, yet as he held her against him, he also noticed she was quite thin. She had lost much weight since the baby died, and it did not seem she was gaining it back. He loved her regardless of course, but as her husband, he was definitely concerned.

Easing out a sigh, he smoothed a large palm over her hair, then gently kissed her before closing his eyes. Things would work out somehow, he just had to believe it, and as sleep finally came he drifted eagerly into it.

* * * *

The tipi flap was thrown back as Dancing Wolf entered the lodge, stepping inside in an authoritative way. Heading straight for his wife, he saw she was working a loom, creating a colorful geometric pattern that immediately caught his eye. As he reached her side she paused work, lifting her eyes to take in his tall stature.

“In four days we will travel to the place where our daughter is laying in rest,” Dancing Wolf announced. “So you can begin healing and properly move on.”

“Grieving is done for up to a full year,” Wanahca reminded him. “So why must I hurry to stop making the tears?”

“I do not wish to hurry you, my flower, but you have refused to visit the place where she is laying.”

“When she is buried five months from now, then I will go. But until then, I will not be ready.”

“Seeing where she is will be good for you,” he said. “It will give you peace and assist in your grieving.”

“You are hurrying me,” Wanahca proclaimed, gaze turning back to the loom so she could restart her weaving. “Have you not taught me, that feeling great sadness is bringing me closer to Wakan Tanka?”

“I did.” The Lakota warrior nodded. “But you making tears, does not include refusing to lay with me.”

Having halted her work once again, Wanahca shifted her body to look up at her husband, who towered above her as she knelt on the floor.

“You wish for us to lay together again, and this is why you want so badly to take me to our dead daughter?”

“I wish for you to grieve in a healthy way, as you have now rejected me for seven moons.”

“I will get better,” she assured him. “But you making me rush is not going to help.”

“Being sad is good, as it lets out the pain that is trapped in our hearts,” he gently kaçak bahis said. “But we must also honor Calm In Her Spirit, and drifting apart as man and wife will do nothing to respect her memory.”

Although knowing this was right, Wanahca did not reply, as she was upset and still feeling stubborn. Seeing that her lips were pressed together in an unyielding way, Dancing Wolf kneeled down to her level, then took her hand in his with great gentleness.

“She was created through our physical love, Wanahca, so why would we not treasure and protect that bond?”

Still no words in reply, but her eyes now lowered as she knew he was right.

“The fruit of a woman’s womb is what keeps our tribe alive,” he told her. “But how can we produce new fruit as a couple, if you will not allow my hands to touch you with love?”

“And if I do allow it, and still there is no fruit, then what does that tell you about my place as a woman?”

“There will be fruit,” he firmly stated. “Our first child dying, does not mean there won’t be another.”

Wanting badly to believe him, she felt a glimmer of hope flutter in her heart. The baby had died on the day the white men had come to take her back, so did it not make sense that they were the cause? Yet still there was worry within her, that their first baby perishing was a bad sign.

If another child didn’t come, then what would that say about the health of her womb, and how would his name continue on without a child to carry on the lineage? A grave expression came over her face then, and folding her hands in her lap, sat very still and serious as she stared deep in his eyes.

“We both know that women are honored in our tribe for being able to bear children, so I think you are shamed to have me as your wife.”

“This is not true,” he quickly replied. “Why would you speak such words, when I have always been proud to have you seen as belonging to me?”

“You are eager to lay with me not only for pleasure, but to prove to others that my womb is still good.”

“I wish to lay you with because it feels that something deep and special is missing,” he proclaimed. “And yes I would love to make another child, but not for showing others that we can.”

“And if we cannot?” Her eyes searched his.

“I do not wish to speak on if we cannot,” he quickly replied. “Our words should make life, not death, so I will not discuss it.”

Quickly rising to his feet, the Lakota warrior then turned to leave. But he only reached a few steps, before her voice spoke out again.

“If we cannot, then they say you will take another wife,” she boldly proclaimed while standing up. “As there has been talk among the women, that this is what warriors do, when their wives cannot.”

Turning to face her fully, he gave her an incredulous stare. “The words they say about me are not true. Where have you heard such things spoken?”

“During my last moon time, in the menstrual tipi. They also say that there has been talk, of my refusal to lay down with you.”

“You should not listen to them,” Dancing Wolf stated. “As they tell lies and bad stories, just to entertain themselves.”

“But is it not true, that we are not laying together?” She asked. “So how would they know, unless this was told?”

“I do not know,” Dancing Wolf said. “But I would stay away from these women, as they only wish to make trouble.”

“And is it not also true, that other warriors like you have taken a second wife, when the first could not give him any children?”

“It is,” he readily admitted.

“Then why would you not, if my womb will not work?”

“I told you to not speak death with your tongue,” Dancing Wolf told her. “Bad ones in the spirit world, are just waiting to make an agreement on what you say.”

“But why will you not answer the question?” Feverish with emotion, she gave a pained stare.

“I will not answer the question, because it never entered my mind,” he told her. “If I do not want something, then my mind will not dwell on it.”

“But others say, this is how it must happen.”

“Then maybe I will take a second wife,” he loudly retorted. “Since you are so certain that it is going to happen!”

Although knowing full well she had pushed him into it, Wanahca was shocked that he had actually said it. Her shoulders dropped and a nasty pain came into her stomach, but before another word could be said, Dancing Wolf turned and rushed out of the lodge.

Dropping like a stone, Wanaha fell to her knees, and as the tears came she just sat there, shoulders quaking as she let out the pain.

* * * *

Dancing Wolf’s moccasins kicked up dust as he made quick steps, hurrying for the spot he always went whenever he needed to think things over or make a decision. He was in such a rush that he didn’t even see Ten Beaver Woman, as she purposely stepped out before him.

As their bodies collided she dropped the basket, which sent turnips rolling everywhere along the ground.

“I’m so sorry, I did not see you.” Feeling terrible that he’d made her drop them, Dancing Wolf immediately picked up the turnips.

“It’s okay.” Kneeling down next to him, she joined him in gathering the vegetables. “It is my own fault, for being so clumsy.”

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32