Ennah
Sentisse, 66 years after the Rise
I'm not entirely sure why I'm sitting here. It’s so close to the vineyard entrance, and still I’ve chosen this spot to wallow over my life. Maybe it’s because the glass heap is the closest thing to Amador that I have on the premises, sad as that is. Maybe it’s a weird hope to find the shard I dropped when Uncle Aniol barged into the shack and started shouting. Or perhaps I’m just fleeing the shouts that I know would have cracked the air if I’d stayed inside the house, no matter if Aunt Carme was sleeping. If I’d stayed there for one minute longer, he definitely would have found a toe nail of mine out of line — or in the air — and he would have blown up.
I think the no screaming near Aunt Carme reason is the only viable one. The shard is hardly something to think about. No, I didn’t know the symbols on my ankle bracelets had anything to do with my ‘real’ home, but since I’m no longer planning on returning to that former future home, it doesn’t matter, does it?
And Amador never shows up two days in a row. He’s too busy working for his father. Expecting him to turn up here is foolish at best.
So I must be here to find solace. Peace. As far as that’s possible when your Aunt is on the verge of…
A sting of pain pierces my heart as the horridness of the situation sinks in.
Uncle Aniol reluctantly told me that the Healer has indeed been by. The man provided a few doses of medicine. Not a cure, but something to subdue the symptoms so…
I take a shuddering breath.
So Aunt Carme’s last days would be spent with as little pain and physical difficulty as possible, and her path to death would be kind.
I can’t believe the Healers have something to take away the pain, the coughing and the other discomforts, but still cannot stop death.
It’s so strange. I thought it would be easier to know if someone was slipping away. I thought it would be better if you were able to say goodbye, if you could prepare for that fateful moment. Granny’s death was so sudden, such a shock, and I felt so awful for not being able to tell her how much I loved her one last time. With Aunt Carme, I was able to say the words, and I will still have an opportunity later judging by the five vials on her nightstand, and still, it hurts like the highest skies
I can’t think this way. She must make a miraculous recovery. I’m counting on Uncle Aniol having to go and collect more vials of medicine. I have to…
I have to remain calm, even though I wish I could fly away from all this. Why can’t I simply travel back in time to when all was well? When I had only recently met Amador and felt even more giddy with excitement than I do now. When Granny was still around, when Aunt Carme was healthy and energetic, and Uncle Aniol… Well, he wasn’t the epitome of pleasantness before, but it was better than it is now. Much better.
Bitter tears cloud my vision as I’m once again reminded of how my life is almost unrecognizable now. I miss Granny so much. She would have hugged me and told me everything was going to be alright, that I was safe, that nobody could harm me. But she isn't here, and no heart in a jar will ever make up for that fact.
I touch the crystal on my ankle bracelet again and I feel like such a fraud all of the sudden. Granny gave up everything she knew, everyone she loved, to keep me safe at a vineyard who knows how many miles from her home, and here I am, reducing her sacrifice to shams. How can I? Is it a good thing that I wasn’t able to tell Aunt Carme I’m staying yet? Should I hold off on telling Uncle Aniol about my plans? And Amador… Fear clenches my heart at the thought of telling him about my abilities. What if he leaves me as soon as he finds out I can fly?
Something suddenly covers my eyes, blocking all the light. Terror rushes through me like a storm as something warm, a bit sweaty, and very much alive pulls me backward. Oh no. The Mage! I was too close to the road, they spotted me, I…
I almost try to fly away, but then I recognize the scent, the touch. My body’s response.
“Amador!” The relief makes my limbs turn heavy, and I feel like a ragdoll against his strong chest.
“Ennah, my love.” He releases his hands from my eyes, only to wrap his arms around me from behind, both tight and supportive. He kisses my ear. “I see that you're missing my company dearly.”
I smile as the last tendrils of fear slowly subside as happiness takes over. “Do you now?”
“The look of pure misery on your face made it more than clear,” he says in a low tone. “What's the matter?”
So much for the happiness. “My aunt isn't well. She’s…” I can’t say she’s dying. I just can’t. Saying it out loud makes it too definite, too real. If I am to retain even a sliver of hope, I need to speak that hope to life. “She’s hanging in there.”
He throws me a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry to hear she’s taken ill. Knowing your stories about her, she’ll be on the mend soon, right?”
“Right,” I say, knowing full well that he now thinks Aunt Carme’s illness is little more than a cold. But it feels good to have him think that. As if the danger just became less real because someone truly believes she’ll heal with ease. I melt into his embrace, grateful for his presence and the thoughts he’s keeping for me.
Should I tell him? My heart starts beating frantically.
His mouth is close to my ear, his whispers a gentle caress across my skin. “So… Are you here because you were somehow certain that I wanted to see you today? Or are you just hiding from all the chores your uncle wants you to do?”
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“Of course, I was hoping you'd show up.”
He releases his hold on me just enough for me to turn around and kiss me. His lips are warm and enticing; his scent washes over me and fills me with expectation.
“Weird thing,” he says softly. “I was here yesterday and did everything I had to: deliver bottles and collect the shards for the smelter. Make sweet love to you...” Another kiss. “And still, I felt I needed to be here again today.”
“And quite early too.” It’ll be a few hours before midday slumbers.
He nods, his brown eyes just catching the sunlight, making them gleam with gold. “I guess I felt you needed me.”
I sigh and let my head rest against his shoulder. Amador is here. He doesn't know anything about my secrets, he doesn't expect me to make or do anything to save the vineyard or the wine. He just likes me for who I am. The fact that he has indeed felt that I needed support — needed him — is enough to make me want to cry.
Not that I would do that, but it feels good to have him here. “Come now,” he says. “I don't want to see those beautiful green eyes filled with this much sorrow.”
I manage a smile. “As you said, you arrived at the perfect time.”
He tucks a black curl behind my ear, and I lift my head to kiss him. Again, a rush of warmth and relaxation tingles through my body. I wrap my arms around him, grateful for his arms protecting and supporting me. There's a relief in knowing where this will lead — we've been down the path to intimacy so many times that I shiver with anticipation. I can tell he senses it too; his hold on me becomes firmer, and his breathing heavier.
It seems like today I’m even more keen on fleeing into this energy, into not having to do or be anyone but myself. But not right beside the glass heap.
It’s as if Amador can hear my thoughts. “Shall we take it to our cellar?” he whispers. “Or is your uncle working there today?”
“There are orders that need to be processed,” I whisper back. I think Uncle Aniol is in the house, but I can’t be sure. The only habit I can rely on is where he spends midday slumbers. “Why have you come this early?”
“I told you, I felt you needed me,” Amador says. “And I couldn't sleep in since my father had an extraordinarily large order to deliver today, and he was frantic about delivering it and getting back home again well before the slumbers. Guess who had to help him load it on the carts.” Amador pulls a face that says he didn’t exactly enjoy to the work.
“Sounds like you made good time.”
“Yup. And, as it turns out, for a good reason.” He shoots me a look that awakens an entire colony of butterflies in my stomach. What did I do to deserve such a wonderful man?
“Well, I'm glad you came by and found me.”
Amador chuckles. “Way better than broken glass.”
He kisses me, and suddenly, I have a hard time remembering how to breathe.
“How is it possible that I want you so badly?” he whispers as he pulls me against his chest. “When it was only yesterday that we...”
“I feel the same,” I softly mumble into the hollow of his neck.
Oh, we really need to find a place to be alone. One of the storage units is empty. Maybe, if we take a blanket or something of the sort...
Keeping as close to Amador as I can, I look around for something soft and cozy to bring along. With Amador on top of me, the floor tends to push against me in ways my body isn't used to. I don't feel like adding bruises to the fresh collection I acquired yesterday.
The only things lying around are the padded cloths used for wrapping bottles, made from the fluffy plumes of a weed called sapphyn, or 'hare's menace' as people have nicknamed it. As if hares are ticklish.
Amador follows my gaze and grins. “I think you know where to go.”
“I do. The leftmost storage unit isn’t in use right now.”
“Can't wait,” he says.
“Don't follow me too swiftly,” I warn.
I can almost feel him rolling his eyes. “I don't know if I can stand the wait.”
“Wasn't it you who once told me that the longing makes the love all the sweeter, when I was moaning about how long I'd waited for you to show up?”
He now moans. “Yes. I knew you'd use it against me one day.”
I smile and take some cloths. “Can you take these with you?”
“Sure.” He squints at our supply. “Do you need more? We've employed another dozen of farmers to grow sapphyn for us.”
“I think we're good.” I look at him as the full meaning of what he just said dawns on me. “Another dozen?”
“Yes, things are looking up. Wrapping the bottles individually is the new standard.” He smiles. “Dad never thought of doing anything for protection, but the clients love it when they feel we've treated their precious orders with respect, and we do receive fewer complaints. It's going well. I think I ought to thank you for that.”
“Yes, you really ought to,” I had wanted to say, for it is true that it was my idea to protect the glass — in particular from my weirdness when I carry them — but he kisses me before I make it past 'really.'
The butterflies are now swirling around inside me, all of them reaching straight for the area between my legs, giving wings to my desire. I want Amador so badly it almost hurts. It’s a strange agony: I’m missing his touch like I’d miss the air underwater, and at the same time my skin becomes so sensitive that the tiniest brush of fabric against it hurts. The sweetest kind of hurt, but torture nonetheless.
His tongue plays with mine, his hands are all over my back and bottom, pulling me closer to his muscular, lean body.
“We have to go...” I whisper when he lets go of my lips only to kiss my earlobe and gently bite it.
“I know,” he sighs. “Just give me some more to bridge the time between now and the moment I’ll be laying you down on the floor of that storage unit. I want you, Ennah. I need you.”
I let out a high-pitched moan and press my breasts against him. His thumbs brush against the tender sides, and he kisses my neck. “I can understand why your uncle doesn't want anyone to know about you. I should thank him for keeping you here. All mine...”
“All yours...” I breathe.
Amador's hands slide down my back and further down, along my skirt until he finds my skin. He makes a hard return going up, and I hold my breath as his fingers find my already wet core.
“All mine,” he groans.
I want him to never let me go again, for his fingers to bury themselves deep into me and for him love me until I see stars, but that isn't possible here. Amador seems to think otherwise. He slips his hands underneath my skirt once more, and immediately, he finds my slick flesh. I sigh as one of his fingers disappears inside me, pushing myself on top of his hand with enough force to take him in entirely.
“Ennah...” he grunts, and a second finger follows the first. I can't help but grind my hips, trying to give him even more access, to encourage him to please not stop.
“You make me so hot,” he whispers, and I kiss him, long and deeply. His fingers are now steadily gliding in and out of me, the pace teasingly slow, making me squirm. I rub his hard cock over the coarse fabric of his shorts, making him moan in a low tone that resonates throughout my whole body. This is bliss — or as close as I can get to that at this very moment at this very place.
I want more. “We have to go,” I whisper.
“Yes.” It’s more like a grunt escaping his lips than anything else. Amador quickly gets up. My body is cold where he touched me before, but I know it won't be that long before I can enjoy all of him again, and that thought helps me as I watch Amador disappear in the direction of the empty storage unit and get swallowed by the darkness behind the door. No Uncle Aniol in sight.
No Mage.
A fluttering in my stomach.
Good.
I take a deep breath, steady myself on my feet, and figure there's no point in waiting any longer. Mindful as I am about touching the ground with every step, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to.
Amador is waiting.