Dancing in Toxia: A Movie by Ethan

Spring Rituals

“Ethan, do you wish to dance?” lisped Brit. Shaking his head, Ethan pulled his wife closer to him and watched the spring festival from the corner of the platform. He had been quiet since he had risen. Brit had been looking forward to the day since Ethan’s seamstress, Destany Laval, had brought the lacy pink gown to the city. Ethan’s fingers traced the lacy patterns idly as he held her. Noticing that the other revelers wore clothing that was much different, Brit asked, “Do you not like my dress?”

It was true that Ethan had not commissioned the dress and the crafty seamstress knew she would sell it the moment Brit saw the pink confection made of cloth. With a hint of a grin, Ethan said, “You are lovely.” His finger caressed Brit’s cheek and he touched her chin as he examined her fuchsia-painted lips. Kissing her forehead, he said, “Do not worry so, Brit. I am simply wrapped in thoughts.”

Nodding to him, Brit snuggled against him silently much like she had the previous night. Ethan had not wished to go out. His arms wrapped around her and they watched out of the window. She saw people coming and going. Nikita popped into the Shelter where she had been practically running it and discussed a few business matters with Ethan. Nikita left seemingly annoyed after Ethan praised her clothing choice, but neglected to stay focused on business. Whether Nikita was concerned about business matters, rumors at hand, or Ethan’s continued lack of assistance, it was hard to say.

Ethan murmured that he was not annoyed with Nikita as he shifted to pull her against him again. Brit pursed her lips realizing he was linked to her thoughts and she had not realized it. She thought of Destany again, and he immediately stated that Destany was a crafty girl but she too was not the object of Ethan’s concern. Peeking up at him, her head rested on his shoulder as she tried to see within his thoughts. Ethan grinned again briefly and whispered “Behave” which caused Brit to giggle.

Settling against him, she returned to watching the people at the festival. Her thoughts drifted again to the night before. After Nikita left, Ethan walked Brit to the diner. With it being the third Thursday of Lent, Annika served Brit a large bowl of artichoke stew, a twist on a recipe that had been quite popular in Constantinople during strict fasts through Lent. “No meats, meat products, fish, or oils are allowed during strict fasts, Brit.” Brit poked at the thick sliced carrots floating among the artichoke and green as she suggested baked French fries. Waving off the suggestion, Ethan said, “This is more nourishing.”

Leaving the diner, they had walked by the library and saw Denny and Picket within. Brit started up the steps but Ethan pulled her back saying that it looked like a serious conversation and that he wished to return to the Shelter. Rumors had been circulating the streets, and Ethan continued to pick up bits and pieces of conversation. People’s emotions were running high. Experience told him that it was not a night to linger outside when Brit was with him.

After returning to the Shelter, Ethan snuggled Brit against him watching the street from the upstairs window yet again. The streets were oddly empty, but Ethan watched. In the strange quiet, they watched as Omega passed looking lost in her own thoughts. Brit looked to Ethan questioning, and he gave her a comforting hug after kissing her forehead. Grr followed Omega just a few feet back. Grr looked concerned, but was obviously there to protect his lady.

Ethan did not breathe, of course, but he seemed to sigh softly and pulled Brit into their resting place even though the night still had hours left before dawn. Once inside, he lit candles and pulled Brit to settle back against him brushing his lips over her hair still lost in his quiet contemplation. When the sun set, they rested with Brit cuddled against him.

The following evening, Brit had managed to wriggle free of Ethan’s embrace and had gone to shower. He was awake when she returned and she started to immediately chatter about the spring festival. Spring Festivals. How many had Ethan seen? Over the years, he saw many rituals and traditions and, while he painted the cosmetics carefully on her face, he told her of some of the more pleasant traditions.

Ethan brushed Brit’s hair as he recanted the story of the golden bull that is said to wake in the springtime. He told her of several goddesses who were associated with springtime, and recanted some stories for each. Goddesses such as Ostara, who was escorted by a rabbit and Hertha who was associated with rebirth and healing. “There was even a Celtic tradition for St. Bridget,” said Ethan. He smiled seeing her look of surprise, “A person would knock three times loudly and say ‘Bridget, Bridget, Bridget! Come to my house…come to my house tonight. Open the door for Bridget and let Bridget come in.’ Then the door would open and a fruit tree would be brought inside. And for the evening, the fruit tree would be treated with reverence and, on the next morning which was called ‘Bridget’s Fire’, the family would plant the tree.”

Brit giggled, “You made that up!”

Ethan gasped feigning insult. “I most certainly did not.” He gave her hair a playful tug and said, “Just for your insolence, you can wear your hair down tonight!”

Still giggling, Brit lisped, “You like my hair down best anyway.” He grinned and stood pulling her to her feet to help her dress for the festival that she was excited to attend. His smile faded as quick as it had come and he became somber again.

Brit looked up at Ethan sighing softly, “I wish to dance….maybe….” He pressed a finger to her lips and swayed with her. It was not a proper dance, but at least they were moving. Some of those at the festival repeated some of the behaviors of times gone by. The dancers grew freer with their dancing as the night wore on and the alcohol continued to pour. It was after an hour of quiet swaying, Brit glimpsed a dark thought from her husband.

His eyes darted to hers knowing she glimpsed his mood. Clinching his jaw, he looked at the sky, the party-goers, and then to his wife. “Tonight,” he said in a low voice, “Tonight.” Ethan voice sounded strained as he pulled her more tightly, “Tonight the day equals the night and the pendulum swings. And, days will be longer at this point on until fall. And I will have less time to enjoy my wife.”

Brit felt his unhappiness. “Ethan…”

Ethan shook his head unhappily and said, “Perhaps, like other creatures, we should change with the seasons. Go to where the night is favored.” Brit did not respond not quite knowing what to say. Ethan continued to muse, “Perhaps…I will have to explore why others are able to stay awake longer here.” Ethan turned her toward him and said, “I do not plan to be robbed of time with you. Not for a second summer, Brit.” Kissing her deeply, he felt her arms go around his neck and return the kiss in kind. Without another word, they returned to their resting place.

Once there, he dragged his fingers as if they were rose petals across her bare skin before drinking from her in soft, lingering sips.

Red Dress Dreams

Brit woke feeling disoriented. After several minutes of navigating sheets, she emerged to the side and tumbled to the floor. Ethan continued to rest as if dormant as she acrobatically extracted herself from his embrace. Pulling the sheet from her head, she quickly brushed her hair back from her face and peered at him blinking. The night before was mostly a blur to her.

The shower, she remembered clearly. Washing with the fine soap purchased on their most recent trip was pleasurable. She could still smell its jasmine-vanilla scent on her hair. The cotton towel sucked water from her skin before she rubbed the lotion with a matching scent lavishly into her skin. It was in the shower, she thought about what she and Ethan might do that evening.

Whenever Ethan rose, he would greet her and ask what she wished to do. Rarely did she have a response; and so she remembered the night before that she had decided to tell him that she wished to go dancing. Finding the red dress that he had commissioned from a seamstress while in France, she put it on. The dress moved even when she was quite still with its airy fabric that responded to the slightest motion of air. Rummaging through her trunk, she selected a pretty cross to wear with it and her black jelly bracelets. She almost tumbled in to the large trunk seeking her black ballet slippers with the ribbon bows that matched the black ribbon around the waist of her dress.

After dressing, she combed her hair in its usual style and found her cosmetics. One after another, Brit examined the lip tints until she found one that matched the dress perfectly. Following with the eye shadow and mascaras that Ethan had shown her to use, she examined herself in the mirror. She looked just as she did the night they went to the odd club while on their vacation.

Sitting on the mat in front of the mirror, she buffed her fingernails and carefully worked some oil into them so they would gleam while she remembered the club in France. The club was one used by kindred. It was very different then the dinner at the museum. Brit struggled for the word to describe it. It was elegant, but there was something animalistic about it as well. People seemed to wear all kinds of different clothing. Everything from Diesel chic to Renaissance court attire could be seen. Ethan dressed more contemporary casual in all black and dressed Brit in this red dress. He seemed to feel the seamstress did not follow his directives, but he placed a wrap around her and she wore it anyway.

There was no humanity in the room, Ethan had later said. At the club, others approached him cautiously and spoke in quiet tones. Brit noticed that he greeted some warmly and others he simply acknowledged. To all, he introduced her as his wife Brit. She did not notice the odd glances that were exchanged with her husband. At the bar, blood flowed as did a limited amount of libation for the humans in the room. Ethan rose from a round settee and took her to another location without reason, and Brit noticed that several rowdier kindred left a girl on the other side that did not seem to breathe anymore.

After much conversation, Ethan took Brit to the dance floor under the large chandelier and moved her through a slow tango. It was hard to focus on the dance. In this area, she could see glimpses of carnal behaviors that she had never encountered before. Ethan did not chide her not to stare. He simply danced with her and kept her focus primarily on him.

At the end of the third dance, a young man in a black leather jacket approached. Placing his hand on Brit’s shoulder, the man said, “If you are not interested in this meal, let another have her.” Ethan’s reaction was swift and Brit saw but a blur until she noticed that the young man was on the floor with his arm missing. Ethan said, “I will speak to your elder about your rudeness.”

The man screamed back sarcastically that the elders of his kind did not worry about the actions of their chylders, and so Ethan would be speaking to them all. Ethan leaned toward him and the man pressed back against the floor. Ethan said clearly, “I’ve spoken to you enough. If I see you again, I will kill you.” Nodding to a lady across the room, Ethan continued, “And I will inform the prince of this city that is an unfortunate possibility before I leave.” Friends of the man crowded around him and helped him leave the club. The crowd simply paused to watch. Some seemed amused, a few seemed confused and one looked clearly annoyed, but all went back to their business and play once the drama was over.

Ethan did speak to the lady who was called the Prince, and then they returned to their resting place. While there, a handful of people came to see Ethan. One remained talking amicably with Brit. Brit noticed that she drank and ate, and so Brit surmised that the one left behind was like her. Human. Ethan returned hours later with the group. All seemed in good spirits. After exchanging a few envelopes, the others left and Brit retired to the resting spot with her husband for the day. At sunset, they left to return home. In thinking of the incident, Brit found the memory clear, but dreamlike.

Her thoughts returned to the night before. Brit had looked up seeing a motion behind her as she prepared to go out. Turning, she saw Ethan who seemed surprised she was wearing the red dress. She rose and greeted him with warm kisses. Without waiting to be asked, she said, “I wish to go out to dance. I wore the dress you had made for me.”

His eyes traveled the neckline of the dress. Placing his hand on his chin, he said, “The weather is too cold for your dress, Brit. I wish you to wear it but we shall stay in. I do wish to dance. We shall dance here…in our home.”

Brit tilted her head in confusion. They had seen few of their friends since returning. “But,” she countered, “I wish to go…out…and I wish to wear the dress that…you…got for me.” Again, he told her that it was too cold and he would hear no more of it. Grabbing her cloak, she placed it around her shoulders. “There! Now I shall not be cold until we get where we are going.”

In a flash, her cloak was gone and was hurled over the boxes. Brit was pressed against them and Ethan sank his fangs deep into her throat gulping the blood. In surprise, she pressed back and he grabbed her closer to him embracing her more securely. She could hear the blood rush from her body as he drank deeply again and again. Her fingers and toes started to chill and she felt dizzy. Crumpling against him, he held her firmly and closely. Though not drinking of her once she crumpled, he continued to bite her hard until he felt her totally limp against him. Ethan then moved her arms to drape over his shoulders and her head against his chest, and he danced with her slowly.

Tonight, Brit sat with the sheets barely clear of her and stared at Ethan who was still resting. She felt bewildered by the unclear memories. Crawling to the mirror, she looked at her throat and found nothing unusual. She looked at her naked body and saw no marks. Touching her lips, she remembered the dancing and wondered if it was all just a dream. She remembered that she had also heard voices near while she dangled in his arms, and that Ethan had responded to them. Try as she might, she could not remember who it was or what was said. Dream-like. Perhaps it was all just a dream.

If it were not a dream, only he actually danced. In her memory, she remembered swaying like a rag doll in his arms. Did she really remember him carrying her back to their resting place? Or that he poured mass quantities of blood into her mouth as he pressed his body to hers? The memory seemed disjointed, but clear: He was telling her to drink more each time she turned away. Was it a dream? Looking about the room, Brit did not see her red dress or her shoes. She still wore her jelly bracelets and the cross necklace. Laid over the chest, Brit saw her cloak and the first dress he ever purchased for her. She looked a bit for her red dress, but it was not found.

Confused, Brit looked back to Ethan hoping he woke soon. She had so many questions. Brushing her hair back, her fingers caught in a knot and she pulled the hair forward. Upon examination, she saw that dried blood had matted a bit of her hair along the side of her face.

An Awakening

Ethan woke with a jolt and immediately felt that something was wrong. Moving faster than humanly possible, he reached for Brit and felt only empty space beside him. His eyes widened and he staggered to his feet. Ethan felt ill. His body felt as if it were made of lead, his mind felt foggy, and he could not sense Brit near. Starting to panic, he crashed against the huge wooden door of his resting place in the Chateau de Jeanne, which was located on a river in the south of France.

Ethan fumbled with the knob before yanking it open. “Brit?” he bellowed as he entered the next room before sliding to a stop. The room was filled with bright light. Ethan clutched the molding of the door as his mind struggled to identify sunlight. It was bright and, though not streaming into the window, the reflective light from the very clear day flooded the room.

It was a struggle to stay upright and sentient. Ethan felt his eyes starting to close and his body falling. “Brit?” he shouted again. He could hear footsteps running toward him and he saw the most faithful servant to the house enter, which helped alleviate some apprehension.

The servant, Thomas, had been a good and faithful ghoul who had run the estate for over 300 years and was kept by the same organization that Ethan belonged. He was faithful to all within it. “Ethan,” Thomas exclaimed as he ran into the room and grabbed Ethan before he fell. “Mon dieu, but it is hours before you should rise!”

Ethan staggered another step toward the window. “My wife. Where is my wife?” His voice was hurried – nearly panicked, and he was unable to tear his eyes away from the window or the blue skies beyond it. “Where is my wife?” he demanded again as he moved. Ethan picked up the slightest feeling of Brit. She was beyond the window, he sensed, but why did he wake?

Thomas kept a sturdy hand on Ethan less Ethan fall to the ground knowing the nature and habits of vampires well. “Ethan, please,” he tried to reason. Looking at the window again, Thomas grasped the situation and spoke quickly, “Your wife. Brit is enjoying sunshine in the garden.” Ethan took another staggered step toward the window. Thomas said matter-of-factly, “Ethan. I have cared for this house and its garden for many years. I assure you that your sweet lady is safe. Now please. Return to your rest less you embarrass both of us by landing on the floor until sunset.”

Ethan turned to Thomas, who seemed to sound as if he was in a cave. The words registered and he asked the ghoul, “Are you sure?” Seeing Thomas give a reassuring nod, Ethan relaxed. The blue sky beyond beckoned to him. Ethan stared with wide eyes and took yet another step to the window. By the shadows, Ethan could tell that the sun was behind the house and was in no danger of beaming into the window. Another step to the window allowed Ethan to see Brit playing in the sunshine. She wore the dress he had given her the night before and looking at each plant and running her hand over the wet moss.

After feeling another wave of relief, Ethan stared at her. The struggle to stay awake was difficult, but he wanted to see. It had been centuries since he had seen the day so bright. It was sunshine. Pure sunshine and it covered Brit in a way he had never seen. Raising his fingers to the glass, he watched her with a hint of jealousy, and closed his eyes to try to link into her mind. He was so disoriented, but he wished to feel the sun on her skin. In fact, he craved the sensation. Something he had not even thought about in centuries. The jealous feeling grew.

Brit felt him enter her mind. She had grown to sensing when he linked with her. Turning left and right, she suddenly looked straight to him at the window. She blinked hard and glanced to where the sun was. Seeing him in no harm, she watched curiously and took a step toward him. His fingers stretched on the glass and hers flexed in a similar way.

The warmth, Ethan felt warmth of her body insulated by the fabric and the warmth of the sunlight on her exposed skin. Brit stretched out her arms and Ethan felt the difference in temperature as her hand moved to the shade. His lips parted as he absorbed the sensation, and his body trembled as she raised her face to the sun to allow him to sense the sunlight and feel it through the mental link on his skin. Ethan’s second hand touched the window. It was a cold glass barrier. Brit looked sad feeling the glass on her fingers, and knowing that he could not join her at this time to enjoy the abnormally warm spring day.

Brit walked toward him with another step. Picking a yellow crocus, she brushed it across her lip and he could feel the spring crispness of the flower. It was not so fragrant, but the color was vibrant. He had not paid much attention to a flower’s texture. Tilting his head, he noticed that she did likewise and she ran the petals over her neck. Ethan took a deep breath and watched wanting to feel her skin prickle from the flower petal’s caress before he drank from her. The sun held guard though. The sun warmed her. The sunshine caressed her and forced Ethan to wait for nightfall.

"Ethan, come to your resting place,” encouraged Thomas softly while watching Ethan's fingers clench. Ethan turned toward Thomas with a menacing growl. “We all want what we do not have,” Thomas offered gently in his clipped old French accent, but moved away quickly when Ethan then snarled - this time bearing fangs.

Brit looked up at the window troubled. She could feel Ethan’s thoughts. The turmoil that he was feeling within unsettled her. She felt longing and desire. She felt anger and resentment. Was it for the window that kept him back or the sunshine that he could not see? She was unsure. Moving again toward the window, she saw him turn back toward her. The anger she felt melted away into a deep sadness mingled with a feeling that she could only describe as exhaustion. She stopped when she saw him shake his head, and she could feel he just wanted to watch her. The sad longing intensified. Picking up the flower again, she looked up and he was gone.

Thomas ensured that Ethan returned to his resting place before alerting the other staff to check every crook and cranny for anything that might have caused him to wake. Brit ran inside of the chateau and, once in their resting place, she undressed to snuggle against him.

When the sun set, he grabbed Brit while she still slept. Caressing her where the flower touched, Ethan inhaled deeply to smell the sunshine on her skin. Brit wrapped her arms around him and Ethan drank of her heavily until she felt as unsteady as he did earlier.

Brit could not understand his odd feelings, and Ethan could see her confusion. It did not surprise him. How could she understand jealousy when she had not experienced it? And how could he explain to her that he was jealous of the sun’s ability to touch her when he could not and of the barrier it had been between them? Thomas greeted both of them as if it was the first time he had seen either that day.