"Good…it is," he uttered.
"Very good," she replied.
And, then they danced breast to breast as he reached around to bring her buttocks in close to him. Oh, how she gloried in the feel of the strength of him—of his desire—there imprinted upon her stomach.
Oddly, she thought that if she were to expire here right now, she would be fulfilled, simply because of the purely sexual quality of their dance of love. But, she also knew it had only begun.
Taking ahold of her, he again repositioned her so she was lying back against his blanket. He fumbled once again with her clothing, but she helped him to remove her skirt, as well as the boots and stockings she wore. And, then she lay there before him, and as the light from a rising moon filtered in through the branches of the willows, she saw him remove his own clothing until, at last, they were both naked, he still kneeling at her side.
Looking up at him, she was somewhat amazed at the sight of his naked body and the strength of his response to her. Would he fit? She could only pray it would be so.
He whispered, "You…beautiful. I…not lay down on you…might hurt you."
"But, do thou not have to?" she asked softly.
"Saa, do not have to," he answered.
Somewhat mystified, she watched as he positioned himself into a pose upon his knees before her. Then he spread her legs around him, bringing them up and onto his shoulders, he meanwhile remaining kneeling before her. And then, raising her hips a little, the two of them became united in the ballet of love.
She, having been recently married, even though for only a short while, was ready for him. And, they danced and they danced the ageless ritual of love, and, so deeply and enraptured was she with him, she found herself gazing steadily and sincerely into his eyes as their bodies moved in unison to the music of their own making. Neither she nor he looked away from the other. It was as though by looks alone they were committing themselves to this union.
She had never loved another being more than he, and she became aware of their lovemaking having a quality much like an entreaty to the Creator, inviting Him into the family they might be creating by this simple act.
This thought was so beautiful, she cried. Not openly, of course. It was simply that this moment was like an instant placed out of the time stream of the natural order of life.
As she spiraled upward toward the apex of lovemaking, she felt as one with him, knowing his thoughts and his heart as well as she knew her own. And, he was beautiful. Truly beautiful. She loved him; she had loved him since the moment she'd first met him.
But, this—this was a dream come true, and as the crescendo of their dance reached its peak, she gave him all of the spiritual essence within her. And, in doing so, she felt him reach the same high precipice, and as they both fell from its peak, she gloried in the feel of him gifting his seed to her.
In the aftermath, he collapsed upon her and she placed her arms around him, pulling him in even closer to her. After a moment, she whispered, "I love thee. I think I have always loved thee."
"And, I love you…too," he whispered into her ear. "You belong…to me…now. I think, perhaps, you have…belonged to me….always. I promise…I…be good to you…as long as…I live."
"I know thou will. Has it not always been so? And, me own self will be as good to thee, too. Thou hast spoken God's own truth. I belong to thee," she whispered. "Truly."
****
He rested then, with his arms wrapped firmly around her. And, as the night wore on, he made love to her again…then again…and once more. And, as the light of another day fell upon the land, he held her tightly to him, she being still embraced within his arms.
First Rider was awake long before Otahki, and as he gazed down upon the blonde locks of his woman's hair, he knew as a fact that he had been blind all those winters ago. It was true: she belonged to him and had always belonged to him.
Back then, he had recognized their spirituality, their closeness. But, he had been imperceptive about the truth of his commitment to her.
Perhaps it was for the best, because for as long as he could remember, he had loved Tsistsaki and his sense of ethics would never have allowed another to enter into his heart. As an Indian male might do, he might have eventually taken other wives, it was true, as was his right and his duty to his tribe and his people,but in his own mind, nothing could have ever taken the place of Tsistsaki.
But, Otahki was not taking the place of Tsistsaki in his heart. Indeed not. There was a truth about his relationship with Otahki that he had not recognized all those winters ago: they belonged with and to one another. In this matter, Otahki had been wiser than he.
Perhaps, four winters ago he should have given more consideration to their closeness. After all, she had known and had sung the Big-Person's healing song along with him.
He still thought it to be strange that she should know the music of the song as well as he. Yet, he had not pursued the uniqueness of it beyond this.
He inhaled on a deep breath, remembering the past was not for regrets nor for what-might-have-beens. She was here with him now. From this moment forward, they would be together, and together they would lead a good life—one which would help his people, a people he hoped she would come to see as her own, too. With her at his side, all things were possible.
Truly, all those years ago, he had been blind.
