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.

Wants & Needs

Ethan kicked the door of their resting place open and deposited a marginally-sentient Brit carefully on the plush fur rug. His demeanor could be described in one word: Irritated. Every little thing about the evening added another thorn in his side. After checking Brit’s pulse, Ethan punctured his own wrist and poured vitae into her mouth forcing her to drink before he sat back to muse how one evening could go so wrong and still end up fine.

When they woke, Ethan had taken Brit for a romantic walk along the beach. He felt it was time she observed more behaviors in others outside of their small circle. When they arrived to the beach, they first encountered a couple who were playfully sparring with swords. Ethan wrapped his arms around Brit and smiled while they both watched. When the male “captured” the female, Ethan was sure that Brit would see playful romance as the girl negotiated for her release. Rather than angel-kissed promises, the girl dropped to her knees and greedily unzipped the man’s pants using other oral skills. Seeing the questions start to form silently on her lips, he refocused her on other people nearby.

Among the others, Pieter told him of news in the city. Blueray and Picket were also there and handed an invitation for both Brit and Ethan to attend their wedding. Weddings would be an ideal setting for Brit to observe others, Ethan mused, if the wedding couple were not demonic in nature. As the happy couple rambled, images of mutual defilements on the ceremonial alter graced his thoughts. At the mention of the wedding activities, Ethan had troubled thoughts at merely considering what ingredients would actually be in the wedding cake. As Brit bounced over the idea of the wedding, Ethan tried to remember a demonic ceremony where people did not either end up naked or sacrificed. He would discuss with Pieter later.

Brit had to take her bicycle to the garage to get the brakes checked. Promising to follow her there, Ethan watched her peddle off as he wrapped up his conversation. When he arrived, members of the garage’s motorcycle gang were typically hanging out. However, rather than hearing loud music, seeing impromptu fighting, and smelling the thick scent of alcohol, he witnessed one crying for her family, another looking for a lost puppy, and a many others acting what was unconventional for people who live on a wild edge. He saw Brit wheeling out a vintage 1950’s Harley-Davidson. A light blue creampuff of a bike that looked as if it was never ridden but had simply been worshipped and gently polished daily with a diaper.

The atmosphere grew more chaotic as more of the gang’s behaviors seemed bizarrely altered as was his usually compliant wife. Brit made it clear that the motorcycle was hers and that she wanted it. It mattered not that she did not know anything about motorcycles. Concerned he sat on the back of the motorcycle until he realized that she was looking for peddles like one would find on a bicycle. Leaving her to flip levers and honk the horn, he slid off to watch the growing confusion. Joah appeared and questioned Brit’s purpose with the bike. He had no answers but tried to explain what he knew. Without warning, the motorcycle engine roared and lurched forward. Brit tumbled off the back as it zoomed ahead crashing into the bricks and caused sparks to fly while it scraped and screamed down the sidewalk on its side depositing paint and parts for a block.

Ethan and Joah ensured Brit was fine before assessing the damage of the prized antique and oddity of the crowd. Brit returned to the garage to find another motorcycle. After all, she had been told by one of gang that she was welcome to any that she liked. Joah followed Brit back into the garage after Brit casually discarded the second bike on the sidewalk and had returned to get one that better matched her outfit. Ethan observed the pattern of his wife who seemed to crave immediate gratification over any desire. He returned to Brit and tried to coax her off of the bike. While talking to her, he felt Joah’s arms slide over him prior to wrapping around his waist. Joah’s words reflected her actions. In addition to Brit’s demands and Joah’s exploration, Deb arrived to lament the demise of her precious Harley that continued to lay in pieces along the road.

Tempers were escalating and Ethan checked his guns before telling Joah that he and Brit would love to rest with her in the library. Joah giggled girlishly and let him drag her as he walked toward the north part of town while carrying Brit who seemed to want anything and everything that caught her eye. Once they reached the library, Brit demanded kisses while Joah flopped on a pillow waiting for the offered three-way “rest.” Ethan struggled to juggle both women and was thankful when Grr arrived. Joah’s interest immediately diverted by telling Grr that Ethan did not live up to what was offered. Grr was gentlemanly enough to compensate which seemed to placate Joah.

Ethan finally had opportunity to observe Brit without distraction. He knew it was only a matter of time before some would seek him to discuss the motorcycle carnage left behind. Brit returned his focus. Kisses were demanded and, when not given immediately, Ethan could feel Brit become agitated when there was not instantaneous compliance. To keep her calm, he gave her the kisses that she demanded and was sure she would be content. Once one demand was sated, another took its place. Minutes passed and Ethan found himself pushed back on to one of the cushions in front of the library fire with Brit practically melted against him. The kisses grew longer and deeper limited only by her need for breath.

Surreal, he thought. Joah and Grr were making out on the cushion next to them. Others had entered the library. None of it mattered to Brit as she pressed harder to feed her wants, which escalated her desires and, which each increased desire, a new demand was issued. More kisses. Deeper kisses. Ethan was unsure how her focus would change. He heard Brit say, “I…I want a feather. I want a feather now.” Lorne had come to the library as others had produced a feather and offered it to Ethan. Ethan did not take time to consider his bias of conjured items and nodded his thanks as he gave Brit the feather. She started to drag it over her skin before dragging it over Ethan’s neck. “I want bites,” she demanded.

Ethan heard her words while realizing people had been watching. Surreal. The word came to him again. Joah and Grr were still making out. Brit told him again, “I want bites.” Her tone clearly indicated that she thought they should have already been delivered. Pulling Brit away slightly, Ethan encouraged her to move to a darker corner. Rather than her usual compliance, she grew more insistent. Others questioned the move, and Ethan felt his mood darken. “This,” he thought, “had to be what it felt like to have a drunk date at the prom.” Unwilling to put on a show for the masses, he pulled Brit in and sank his fangs hard into her throat. She purred as her demand was met.

Ethan drank deeply, unwilling to wait for her next demand. Time, he thought. He needed time. He could feel her energy level ebb as he took more than he usually did and kept tabs on her heartbeat as she crumpled against him. Paler while he now looked more human. His fingers trailed over her face knowing that he would share of himself later and she would be better by morning. Nerissa entered with a handful of burning herbs and Joah immediately started to become more her old self. Brit lay like a sack of flour in Ethan’s arms resting. Picking her up, he took her home. Once there, he ensured she drank of him and pulled her so that her head rested on his thigh.

He was irritated. His fingers caressed her hair and he thought of how he would have reacted to such a night a year ago. The couple on the beach might have gotten them killed for behaving so sleazy. In his younger years, a demonic gathering of any kind would have surely had his company. He glowered at the memory of Deb swearing toward Brit with cause, and found himself growing angry at Deb’s actions even as he rationalized it easily. Then there was Joah all but rubbing against him. Many had died for less. His fingers caressed Brit’s skin. Then there was his beloved who had behaved with a child’s demands and a woman’s desires. In that memory, Ethan grinned and found that, as much as he wanted to be, he was not irritated anymore. With a chuckle, he wondered whether the years were mellowing him.

Feeling the sunrise near, Ethan wedged the door to make sure Brit could not leave before he checked her over; and then he pulled her close falling dormant and realized that he was more exhausted than he had felt in years.