The Time of Barley Harvest
Pairing: Ruth/Naomi
Part: 1/1
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: none
Summary: Ruth's devotion to Naomi, after both have suffered the loss of their husbands, brings them to a new intimacy. *f/f slash*!
Notes: none
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Ruth 1
8 And Naomi said unto her two daughters in law, Go, return each to her mother's house: the LORD deal kindly with you, as ye have dealt with the dead, and with me.
9 The LORD grant you that ye may find rest, each of you in the house of her husband. Then she kissed them; and they lifted up their voice, and wept.
10 And they said unto her, Surely we will return with thee unto thy people.
11 And Naomi said, Turn again, my daughters: why will ye go with me? are there yet any more sons in my womb, that they may be your husbands?
12 Turn again, my daughters, go your way; for I am too old to have an husband. If I should say, I have hope, if I should have an husband also to night, and should also bear sons;
13 Would ye tarry for them till they were grown? would ye stay for them from having husbands? nay, my daughters; for it grieveth me much for your sakes that the hand of the LORD is gone out against me.
14 And they lifted up their voice, and wept again: and Orpah kissed her mother in law; but Ruth clave unto her.
15 And she said, Behold, thy sister in law is gone back unto her people, and unto her gods: return thou after thy sister in law.
16 And Ruth said, Intreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee: for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God:
17 Where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried: the LORD do so to me, and more also, if ought but death part thee and me.
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After Orpah had taken up her possessions and left Naomi’s house, not without many tears and embraces, Naomi turned to Ruth. The Moabite woman gazed back at her, eyes filled with entreaty. Naomi thought, as she had countless times before, that her son Chilion had wed a remarkably puzzling woman. Ruth had come to Naomi’s household as her son’s bride, worked alongside Naomi and Orpah each day, eaten and slept under the same roof for ten years—and still, Naomi had been utterly surprised by the younger woman’s plea, her desire to stay with Naomi rather than return to her own family. Not for the first time, she wondered what Ruth’s home must have been like, that she would willingly abandon it for so long, and resist returning to it so strenuously. Bearing this in mind, she tempered her voice with kindness before asking, "Why do you wish to remain with me, truly? My sons are gone—what keeps you here?" Ruth bit her lip and looked down. "Was I nothing more to you than your son’s wife, then?" she asked softly.
Seeing the disappointment in every line of Ruth’s frame, her drooping shoulders and lowered face, Naomi found herself overcome by a surprising tenderness for the young woman. All her life, she had been schooled to believe that bonds between women were, at best, transitory. Upon marrying, a woman went to her husbands’ house, breaking all ties with her own family. Daughters would wed, themselves, and be lost to their mother. When her two sons had chosen to wed Moabite women, she had welcomed them as best as she could, but could not forget that her connection to them was tenuous. In the first days of her widowhood, having companionship and help in doing household tasks had helped immeasurably with the loneliness—but she had tried to hold herself back from caring for the two too much, feeling sure that they would do the same. Now, of course, Ruth was in the same position she had been in, so long ago; Naomi had been sure that she would wish to return to her family, as Naomi herself had longed to return to her own mother when her husband had died. But strangely, Ruth seemed to have tenaciously developed a fondness for Naomi, ignoring Naomi’s efforts to keep her at a distance. More than anything else, this touched Naomi to the heart.
Unsure how to express this, Naomi reached over and touched Ruth’s shoulder. "If you wish, you may make your home with me. My household will be yours. I only thought you would rather go home…but we’ll speak no more of it," she said kindly. Ruth put her own hand over Naomi’s and looked at the older woman. Her expressive eyes were full of—relief? Happiness? It was hard to tell, but Naomi thought she could see some form of happiness there. The two women fell silent for a long, contented moment. At last, Naomi brought her thoughts back to all that she had to do. "We’d better start to prepare—before long, we must be on our way to Bethlehem," she told Ruth. Ruth nodded, looking more as she usually did, but Naomi fancied that she had been pleased at the use of "we". Naomi tried it out again, in her thoughts. We. There was something sweet about it.
The two women worked long and hard that day, and the next, and the next. There was so much to be done before the journey to Bethlehem could begin. All the best things had to be packed; the rest had to be sold. Arrangements for transport had to be made. The house had to be cleaned in preparation for the next family who would live there. Ruth and Naomi worked furiously and fell into bed exhausted every night. Finally, all was in readiness. The next day, they would set out for Bethlehem. All that was left in the house was bundled up except for the furniture that would stay in the house. Despite her exhaustion of body and spirit, though, Naomi found herself sleepless. She lay in her marriage-bed, gazing at the ceiling, and thought about the new life that awaited her in Bethlehem. The life that awaited the two of them, she corrected herself. Ruth’s unexpected devotion added something to that future. For so long, she had been alone, because there was no-one who was bound to her by more than blood or obligation. Now she had a companion who had chosen to be with her.
A quiet rapping on the doorframe interrupted Naomi’s thoughts. In a moment, Ruth came in, clad in an old cotton night-robe, dark hair in a plait down her back. "The house is so empty, I felt lonely," she confessed shyly. Naomi smiled at her. "Well, come in, then," she offered. Ruth sat on the very edge of the large bedstead, swinging her legs like a child, rather than the sober matron of almost thirty years that she was. Naomi turned back the coverlet. "Come in, there’s plenty of room," she said matter-of-factly. Ruth slipped in under the cover and curled up with the pillow. "Good-night," she whispered. Soon, her even breathing bespoke deep slumber. Naomi found the sound oddly soothing. It reminded her of the days before her husband’s death, a fond recollection. Before long, Naomi found herself falling into slumber as well.
It was hours later when Naomi awoke to find Ruth curled around her. She was absurdly amused at this. It was only natural, she supposed, that the habits of the marital bed should fade slowly. Besides, it was pleasant to have the younger woman so close. Ruth’s hair had a sweet odor, and she was warm, her skin soft…Naomi drifted off again without dislodging the younger woman’s firm embrace. When she awoke again, it was as to a nostalgic dream. Her husband Elimelech was in bed with her, his gentle caresses soothing and rousing her. Naomi sleepily reciprocated. Gradually, though, it occurred to her that this was no dream. She was awake; the pale light of earliest dawn dimly illuminated the bedchamber, and the person in her arms was not Elimelech but Ruth. Strangely, this, like Ruth’s sleeping embraces, seemed natural. How natural to caress soft female skin, to kiss full female lips, to press against Ruth for the sheer delight of it. Now Ruth was touching her hair, now stroking her hip, now skimming the plane of her hand across the inside of Naomi’s thigh. Somehow, Ruth was tentatively slipping cool fingers into her, kneeling between Naomi’s legs and dipping her tongue across the most sensitive nub. Hazily, Naomi wondered if Moabite women learned to do this sort of thing in childhood, or if Ruth was unusual among her people; that thought was swiftly swept away in the flood of sensation that enveloped her. Naomi relinquished control, let herself be carried along, until she tumbled down—as if from the crest of a wave—into utter delight.
Ruth shyly raised herself up, and Naomi opened her arms wide to receive her. When Ruth kissed her, Naomi tasted herself on the other woman’s lips. Her own desire sated now, she grew curious. A hand slipped between their bodies, at first, encountered only curls of wiry hair. Feeling deeper, Naomi encountered soft folds, warm and slick. A gasp from Ruth encouraged her, so she pressed in again, curious. Soon, Naomi had found a rhythm, guided by the sounds of pleasure Ruth was making. It was an unexpected delight to feel how much she could affect the younger woman, even with her unpracticed hands. Almost too soon, Ruth was shuddering, eyes squeezed shut, at the brink of ecstasy. Delighted, Naomi kissed her mouth, and Ruth kissed back frenetically. But her obvious exhaustion slowed her fervor before long, and she curled up against Naomi and fell asleep again.
Naomi watched Ruth as she slept. The other woman’s hair was disarrayed, dark wisps loose everywhere; her eyelashes cast shadows on her peaceful face. Naomi thought that Ruth was the most beautiful sight she ever had seen. Both of them had known loss, she thought; both had had husbands taken from them by death. But perhaps God had given them another kind of love, another chance of happiness. The words Ruth had spoken echoed in her mind: "whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God." "I will repay your devotion," she whispered. "My home shall be yours, as long as we both shall live. Where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried: the LORD do so to me, and more also, if ought but death part thee and me."
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Ruth 1
22 So Naomi returned, and Ruth the Moabitess, her daughter in law, with her, which returned out of the country of Moab:
and they came to Bethlehem in the beginning of barley harvest.
