This is the final chapter of Blessings Home. Thank you, everyone, for all your support and encouragement as I wrote this.
Title: Blessings Home Ch. 5
Series: Another Life
Enoch woke in a tangle of arms and legs. Lying between the two large men, he gave a sigh of contentment. He felt cocooned in warmth and love. Feeling eyes on him, Enoch shift his gaze and met Wryn's eyes.
"Mine," Wryn whispered. Then he leaned over and gave Enoch a gentle kiss.
Suddenly, Enoch found himself pulled backwards against the hard chest of Chandir. Sharp teeth nipped at his neck.
"No, mine," Chandir growled.
Wryn inched closer so that Enoch was pinned between the two men. Growling back, he said, "No, mine!"
"Mine!" Chandir argued.
"Mine, I said!" Laughter and possessiveness fought in Wryn's tone.
"But I said, no mine!" Chandir mock growled back.
Enoch giggled at the playfulness of his two dominants. How full his life had become since he was alone on Earth. Here on Gliese, he had more than he ever could have thought possible. Smiling up at the two men, Enoch whispered, "Yours."
The gleam in Chandir's eyes matched the one in Wryn's. A look of pride and possession. The two doms looked at each other and then turned to Enoch. "Ours." They declared simultaneously. Both doms tenderly kissed him at his pronouncement before they rolled out of bed. As they were dressing, Wryn touched a small bruise on Enoch's arm. "Are you sore?"
"A little," Enoch said before looking at Wryn and admitting, "But in a good way."
Wryn's smile seared Enoch's heart as the other man agreed, "Me too."
Watching Wryn pull up his pants, Enoch saw small finger sized bruises on Wryn's hips. The night before had been a combination of tender caresses and marking of possession; of friendship and passion. He felt closer to the two large men than to anyone else in all of his life. The visions he'd experienced had kept him isolated.
Walking into the main area of their cottage, Enoch wasn't sure if it was the cold of the morning, or the remembrance of isolation that made him shiver.
"It'll take just a moment for me to stoke the fire, then we'll have a hot breakfast before we start the day," Wryn commented.
Enoch got down the wooden bowls while Wryn prepared their morning meal. The feeling of home wrapped around him. Soon the men were ready to settle down and break their fast. Reaching out for a chair, Enoch felt strong arms wrap around his middle.
"I enjoyed feeding you last night," Chandir growled softly. "I'd like to continue this morning."
Enoch blushed at Chandir's request. While being fed the night before was combined with discipline, Enoch couldn't deny his own feelings that had rushed through his body as Chandir had fed him. Nodding his consent, he was pulled down onto the big dominants lap.
He didn't know if it was the morning sun sneaking in the window or if he'd learned how to lean on the dominant, but Enoch didn't feel as awkward as he had last night. The warm lap was in sharp contrast to the chill in the air. He felt content as Wryn and Chandir talked of what the day would bring.
"The cold is coming fast," Chandir said as he lifted a spoon full of oatmeal to Enoch's mouth. "I will finish the firewood for the elders, but I will come to meet you when it is time. I will help you to remember to come home on time."
"He will not be late this day," Wryn replied. "I've decided to accompany him for the day."
Enoch swallowed the hot cereal and took a deep breath. He knew what he had to do. No, what he wanted to do. Turning on Chandir's lap to face both men, Enoch said, "I would like that. To have you with me all day." He paused not because he was afraid, but so that his words would carry the weight he'd been carrying himself. "Especially when I have my vision."
The silence screamed throughout the room. When the full understanding showed on the two dominants faces, Enoch continued, "Every morning as I go to the Library, I have a vision. When I leave each day, I have another. I think....I think they are trying to tell me something. Maybe you can help me decipher the message."
Wryn reached out and laid a hand on Chandir's arm. "Wait for it."
Enoch adverted his eyes at the tightening of Chandir's mouth. He could hear the large dominant grind his teeth. Giving himself a mental shake, he turned back to face the men. He'd known that he was wrong to keep the visions from them. He'd face them as he confessed. "I'd decided last night as I was going to sleep that I would tell you of the visions today. I realized that they are to be shared with you. That I'm to be shared with you."
"Yes," Wryn agreed. "We are to share ourselves with each other. That includes the good with the bad. You are learning this valuable lesson."
"And you are learning what happens when you do deny us," Chandir growled.
Enoch wasn't surprised to find himself flipped over Chandir's lap. The only sound in the room were the sharp swats and Enoch's slight gasps. The pain of the spanking was cathartic. As the heat built up in his bottom, the fear and grief he'd carried dissipated.
When he found himself flipped back over, a few tears had slid down his cheeks. Tears of release that Chandir gently wiped away. Winding his arms around the big man's neck, Enoch laid his head on his shoulder.
"This is now behind us," Chandir whispered softly in his ear. "We move forward now."
Enoch felt Wryn's strong reassuring hand on his back.
"Come, let's finish our meal," Wryn said as he rubbed Enoch's back. "Then we'll go to the Library. If a vision occurs, we'll get through it. All visions have a purpose, we can find what it is together."
Sitting straight, Enoch nodded and sent a watery smile to the two men he loved. Together was a word they talked of often. Together was how Enoch planned to spend the rest of his life.
The three finished breakfast unhurriedly. Enoch’s backside throbbed as he sat on Chandir’s lap, but the slight pain was comforting to him as the dominant continued to feed him. The men worked together to clean their bowls and utensils. As they went out the door, Chandir commented, "I've a few more chords of wood to chop. I'll have our noon meal ready when you return."
“We’ll be home in time to eat,” Wryn replied to Chandir. Enoch took the words for what they were: a warning that would be obeyed.
Chandir walked with Enoch and Wryn as far as where the trail started. Laying his hands on Enoch's shoulder, he said, "You are stronger than you know. You have the strength of three surrounding you.”
Walking down the path with Wryn, Enoch did feel the strength of three around him. Just like a braided rope, they were stronger entwined. A sense of calm filled Enoch that he hadn’t felt since the first day he’d started working with Misham.
Heading down the trail, the trees were shedding their leaves creating a carpet along the path for the men to walk on. Misham joined the two men just as the front doors of the library came into view. Before they stepped into the clearing, a fierce, cold wind shook the trees. A cascade of red leaves fell toward the ground. Swirling around the men, the leaves blurred into a heavy scarlet mist.
The red mist snaked its way around Enoch. Pulling him into a vision. As the scene unfolded before him, the serpent of fear tried to wrap around Enoch’s heart, but Wryn’s arms were a safe harbor. Lying on the hard ground, Enoch watched as a church was vandalized. He was held captive in the vision as dark human shaped shadows used spray paint to spread hate.
Vile words and symbols appeared on the walls as sacred statues were destroyed. He heard the distressed cry of Misham, but couldn’t break free of the vision. Misham’s cry mixed with those of the parishioners. The cries of sorrow rose like a wave washing over all who were witnesses. Before the wave could break over the three men, the vision was swept away.
As the three men lay on the trail, Enoch couldn’t help but remember Chandir’s words. The strength of three. He, Misham, and Wryn were a braided chord of rope. Stronger than the fear and hate the vision had shown him. He looked first toward Wryn and saw power in the dominant’s face. Turning to Misham, Enoch noted resilience in the pale face of his friend.
“It is done,” Enoch assured the men.
Standing up, Misham reached a hand down. “This one was not as bad as the ones before.”
Taking the hand, Enoch stood. He jumped as a sharp swat landed on his backside.
“You will learn to share!” Wryn said vehemently.
Turning and wrapping his arms around Wryn’s neck, Enoch said, “I’ve learned, agape, I’ve learned. Nothing else will be kept from you.”
“Nothing,” Wryn commanded. Then he turned to Misham. “You felt all their pain?”
Misham nodded. “It is what the stars wish of me. Enoch sees and I feel. But it is over now. And Elden will help me heal tonight when I tell him of their emotions.”
Nodding, Wryn said, “As it should be.”
With that declaration, the three walked the final yards to the Library. Once inside, Wryn broke away and walked toward Albric. As the dominant talked to the older Historian, Enoch and Misham gathered the supplies. When Wryn came over to the cabinet and started to gather more, the two submissives looked at him questioningly.
“When the snows come and we are home bound, Chandir and I can help you improve your writing skills,” Wryn explained as he gathered extra parchment, ink, and quills.
Warmth spread through Enoch’s middle at the image Wryn’s words created. Imagining heat from the fire spreading over the room as snow fell outside. The three men sitting together writing their thoughts and visions. Safety. Contentment. Love. Enoch couldn’t speak, but nodded his pleasure at Wryn.
Settling down in the small recording room, Wryn turned to Enoch. “I know it is hard, agape, but have you been writing of your recent visions?” At the negative shake of Enoch’s head, Wryn suggested, “I think you should.”
Misham nodded. “I agree. I think they are wanting to be written.”
Worried for his friend, Enoch asked, “Will their pain hurt you?”
“Maybe,” the empath said. “But with you and Wryn here. And Elden waiting for me at home, it will be bearable.”
Enoch reached out and uncovered the crystal as Misham prepared to scribe. Kneading the MXene clay in his hand, Enoch started to speak. “The visions are of the ancient religions. Not just one, but of the different interpretations. Of the houses of the religions. The buildings offered peace and hope for those who worshiped there. But for those who did not understand or feared the beliefs, no peace could be shared.”
Enoch continued to describe the events the visions had delivered to him. He talked of destruction of buildings. Of imprisonment of believers. Of torture and pain. And as he talked, his hands were busy. He wasn’t aware of what he was doing until he felt a firm, yet gentle hand laid on his own.
“What do you craft?” Wryn asked quietly.
Enoch looked at the molded clay. A structure had evolved from his efforts. A structure that resembled the building he’d seen in his earlier vision. Before the horrible destruction had happened. In soft surprise, he replied, “A place of worship. A temple. The one I saw in my vision.”
“Oh,” Misham gasped with sudden understanding.
Enoch watched as his friend carefully lifted the small structure. Misham placed the sculpture over one of the glowing crystals. The blue light from the crystal shone through the windows of the clay building.
“They are at peace now,” Misham said as tears glistened in his eyes.
“Yes,” Enoch whispered. Though he wasn’t an empath like Misham, he felt the peace and contentment of those lost so long ago. Peace in Misham. And in himself. He now knew the purpose of the visions. He would make the houses of worship that had been destroyed. They would sit among the tombs that the Historians had written.
“They need to be remembered,” Enoch said.
“And they will be,” Wryn assured him.
“We’ll help you record them in script, as you craft their temples,” Misham said.
“They will hold a place of honor here.” Albric’s voice came from the doorway. “I do not mean to intrude, but you asked me to inform you when the noon meal was close.”
“Thank you, Albric,” Wryn said. “We’ll put away our supplies.”
Albric stepped closer. “I would like the temple to be shown. Would you place it on one of the shelves?”
Reverently, Enoch picked up the clay and carried it into the main room as Misham put away their supplies. “Where should it go?”
Albric hurried over and cleared a shelf. “Here. At eye’s level. So that when each Historian enters, the first thing they see is your sculpture.”
Enoch centered the crystal on the shelf and then carefully set the temple over it. Stepping back, he saw the glow was soft and inviting. The clay would continue to charge the crystal giving a welcome to all who saw it.
“They are home,” Enoch exclaimed.
Turning to clasp Wryn’s hand, Enoch gave a soft smile and they left the Library. Walking hand in hand toward home, the visions stayed quiet. But whispers of gratitude floated on the wind. The blessings of lost religions had found a home.