Red Magick

[ArcticAvenue]

(Closed for slipped halo)

They slowly stepped out of the bedroom, and closed the door as quietly as they could. “Right then, off you go, if you leave now you can room at Ryebridge, and you will be in Hexington by tomorrow with ya.”

“Me,” Wade whined as they moved from the door. “Why do I need to go?”

She scoffed, “you would ask a lady to travel alone to the north country, and leave her ailing father behind? For a man of nineteen, you sure do whine like a boy. Besides, if they leave instructions, best be you to hear it as you will be his keeper.”

Again, Wade protested, “Me?”

“Aye,” she responded.

“Where will you be off to?”

“No where’s right off, but you who will be the one living with him, would you not? So, best ya know what to do to take care of him when I return to the city, don’t ya think? Now you are a grown man, Wade, I will not have ya protest like you did when you were a wee one.”

Wade reached to his thick chestnut hair, sliding his fingers through it frustratedly. Looking down to the smaller woman he breathed exasperatedly, “Aye, mum. I wouldn’t have ya go up there by yourself. But you hear what he spouts out about. Potions and things to keep him alive? He’s lost the plot, mum. Next thing he will be asking me to catch him some elves with them wings on them.”

She sighed heavily. “He’s your grandfather. You wouldn’t be talking like this about him in front of him, would ya? I raised you better than that.”

He raised his palms flatley towards her, “I just be saying that there something more wrong with him than a slight cold if he be asking for such things. He is too old to start falling for the devil’s trickery.”

His mother may have been shorter and smaller than Wade, but as she grabbed him by the collar and drug him outside the farmhouse, the young man on the precipice of his own independence felt like he was getting yanked right back into the days of his impetuous youth. “I will NOT be having you speak of the devil in your Grandfather’s house,” she chastised. She pushed him upright at the stoop and pointed out to the emerald fields around them. He was tall enough to nearly fill a bed head to toe. He was strong from the time he spend on the farms and running about for his school. Yet this shorter, thinner, and feminine version of himself still drew the fear of God right out of him. “Look here boy. Is this not the farm you asked to inherit? Isn’t this the place you came screaming to me asking to live here forever? Ya begged and ya begged to become a farmer, did ya not?”

Wade started confused. It had been, indeed, she was right about that. Since a boy when he was sent to the farm for his summers, he loved this place and his grandparents to show him the ways of raising cattle and growing barley. It still made him want to ask, “But, what does that have to do with …”

She interrupted, “Because if ye can’t handle your grandfather’s dying wish, then ye can’t handle your grandfather’s farm. That’s what it has to do with it. It took me a great deal of convincing to your father to agree to keeping this place. He’d rather sell it. He’d sell it the day ya grandfather died, if it weren’t for you crying and pleading. So, now you are old enough to be running this farm yourself, you better start running it before your father calls ya home and makes ya take a desk at his office.”

So there it was. Wade realized his grasp of this farm was tenuous, but never has his mother thrown it back at him so defiantly. “Aye mum,” he replied. “But if he has me chasing after pixies, you have yourself to blame.”

She smiled, her brown eyes lightened brightening some. She reached for his face and pulled him down to a motherly kiss on the nose. “Aye, Wade. And ye would have yourself to blame if you get up there and ya fall in love with a crippled wart nosed witch.”

------------


Wade yawned, sucking in the full breath of the damp autumn air into his chest and giving a small cough to exhale. It a fairly warm afternoon, but that only meant a storm was brewing. The inn in Rysbridge was dreadful, finding it more comfortable to lie draped over a wooden stool than the excuse for a bed. By the time Wade rose awake enough to continue his journey, the sun had burnt off most the morning dew. It helped little that he had to do the whole of the travel on foot. Grandfather only had the one rideable horse, and Wade’s mother demand that it stay at the farm in case she needed to fetch a doctor -- which seeing the adventure she sent him on was horribly ironic.

Arriving at Hexington, Wade thought his return home can begin shortly. Just collect the drink from the women then turn tail to the farm. With dry weather and the lord’s blessing he may be able to find the strength to walk on through the night and be to farm before finding rest. But such luck could not come this day. When he stopped ask a farmer for the home of sisters Lorelai and Marigold (as his grandfather described), he said he heard of no such people. A boy seemed to know the names, but only ran off down a side street without an answer. Wade asked the baker near the centre, and was rudely ignored. A peacekeeper said that Wade best return to where he came from. The tavern just threw him out.

Exacerbated, Wade was ready to just stop by the apothecary and buy some wheatgrass tea to take to the old man so he could fool him into thinking the duty was done. That’s when the boy showed up around a corner, staring at Wade and suggesting with a finger he come closer. With a whisper, he pointed to the west of town, across a bridge, and into a thick woods.

Now that he was a good mile into these woods, Wade grew weary of what he got himself into. The well worn road was replaced by a rutty grass covered path that would surely become treatourous when the storm breaks. The trees themselves seemed to curl and twist, their high branches bending over the top of the road thick with foliage and vines. As he turned a small bend, Wade noticed sticks tied together with bits of string. In some branches, small ribbons were tied to bells that rang lightly in the wind. He could hear and feel the first drops of water coming from the approaching storm and his pace increased.

Here and there he began to see small crudely built huts, like the old tales of fairy houses. Some of the trees held wood carvings of faces and animals. At one such tree, a carving was oddly shaped and hard to recognize, but in a flash of lightning it lit with a face not too unlike his grandfather. Wade jumped. nearly tripping over the a loose branch behind him.

“The devil be here,” he mumbled angrily, brushing hypothetical dirt from his drawers. “Devil and schoolboy stories be here. You be braver than this Wade. Right, Braver.”

He shook his shoulder and headed onward. In no time, a looming wood house appeared in the on the lane. It seemed to only be the one floor, but it spread out with many rooms heading into a glen until he wasn’t sure when the house ended and the forest began. There were gardens of herbs and near dead flowers, vines across fences, and strange bushes and things. If there was any place that could be THE place it was this place.

A knock on the door, and Wade could hear movement, voices, and laughter. He pictured them being older, and these voices matched it. He pictured them hunched over with a twig acting as a cane. The rain started to come harder, thunder crashing around with the lighting to go with it. Leaning under the stoop, he moved close to the door to get as much out of the rain as he could. Oddly enough the voices and noises got further away. He put his ear to the door and just as he aimed to knock on it again, the door swung open and he fell onto the entry.

“Weeeeelllllll,” a shrill old voice spoke, “I was right, Marigold, there was a visitor.” She was old. Not old as in one that should respected and listened too, but old like you wondered what the known world was like back in time when she was not old.

Catching the name she gave for her other, he assumed the best … whatever that may be. “Are you, Lorelai, Miss?” Wade asked while still lying on his back.

“In the flesh, boy,” she said kindly enough. “Now, get up and tell me what business you have here.“

He dragged himself to his feet, “I come from Blackwood, my Grandfather Matthew Miller sent for me to find ya. He is ill and said you be ones that could help’em.”

She had a head of thick white hair, bushy eyebrows, and more wrinkles than face. She raised an eyebrow with the suspicion of one sure to meet a murderer. Her face jerked into a smile, “Marigold, Matthew Fisher, he was the one that had the nice goat’s milk cheese.”

“Barley,” a yell of an old woman came from deeper in the house.

“Ooooo, the Beer Miller, indeed. Come come, get away from the rainy door … what did you say your name was?”

He ducked his head some to get through a doorway to an old sitting room. It was filled with knobs and trinkets of the kind he knew not about, giving him an ungodly feel to the place. “I really must not stay, tis a long walk back to town and further to the farm.”

“Nonsense, you must stay for dinner. We make stew,” came a new voice that entered the room. They weren't quite twins but they definitely were near. Her hair seemed a little closer to a red of youth than her sister, but this one still seemed old. They moved quickly in and out of the room. It was a tandem of effort, one would leave with towels and blankets left about, the other would enter with cookies. “What did you say your name was Boy Miller?”

“Wade,” he replied standing in the corner with his back to the entrance. “Wade Fisher. And I really must stay.”

“Fisher? I thought you said you were Miller,” came the one named Lorelei, pouring a cup of tea. “Now come closer, come to the fire here so we can get a look at you.”

“I am a Fisher,” he said stumbling slightly over a book left there. “And if it would not take long to make what ever. My grandfather is quite ill, and probably not know what he would be given anyway.” . He found a chair near the fire, far enough from the cookies to not show a that he should be much trouble.

“We shall hear all about you then, Wade Fisher, and your what ails the beer Miller.” Lorelei pushed a cup of tea into his hand before giving a slightly whoop like she forgot something and head again out of the room.

“Then we shall have you stay, we shall offer you a bed,” came Marigold as she entered through another door. She picked up the teapot and headed behind Lorelei.

“Grand idea, sister.” Lorelei already was carrying blankets in her old arms.

“No, no,” Wade broke in. “I couldn’t impose. Besides, I MUST return promptly.”

“Don’t sit there,” Marigold chimed entering the room with a small bowl of stew. “You’d regret it soon enough, and the sofa is more comfortable.”

“Yes yes, don’t sit there,” Lorelei agreed as she left with what looked like a long green dress scooped from the floor.

“No I am suitable …” as he got the words out, water dribbled over his. He looked up to see the roof open to the sky, noticeable from a flash of lightning visible through it.

“See?” Marigold said. “The roof leaks here.”

Wade shook the water from his hair as best he could, now more frustrated than ever. “I really must be going, excuse my rudeness but if there is something you can give me what would heal him and I will be on my way.” He stood and tried to shake the water off his coat. “It is a long way to Blackwood, I must start shortly or will be along the unsafe roads at the darkest of times. You must let me know what is owed, I can barter on me grandfather’s behalf but …”

When he had not noticed it before will challenge his mind for years, but that now as in the past. Across the room, out the door he entered, thru the hallway, and past the arch of the door beyond was a room aglow with candles, torches and a fire pit. He will someday remember the pot that hung from the ceiling, or the act of stirring that the figure did to keep it going. Someday he may even remember the smells of what was afoot in that room wafting to where he stood.

In that moment, instead, he was consumed by the third woman of the house. She was not old, not at all. Not just that, she was very much naked. She had waist length red hair, balancing between that of fire and that of blood, but brilliant in color and more so in length. Her skin flicked against the firelight with suggestions of alabaster. Her flesh was tight against her firm body. He only saw her from behind, only for a long moment, but she appeared as perfect of a woman that he could even begin to imagine in the great of dreams.

Wade coughed, and turned away as soon as his senses returned. His head looked everywhere in the room but the doorway across the hall. Some kind of courtesy, some kind of modesty to give the girl. He spotted the hole that soaked him. “I could fix ye roof, Ladies. Be no trouble.”

The sisters stood stooped next to him, looking up to him confused. “In this weather?” asked one.

“You’d have to stay the night,” said the other.

Thinking of the girl, he caught himself turning to the room across the hallway. She was now sliding on a robe, but he caught one last glimpse of her nakedness before he animatedly turned back to the old women. “I guess if it be no trouble. I’d be thankful for the the stay to be friendly with you …” quickly running on, “.. or if for help on my grandfather that be. Least of what I’d owe ye.”

Wade stood, swallowing hard, hoping that the invitation was still good. He hoped these woodsy women were not going to confuse him with their mindless devilty. Hoping the stew would not kill him. But most of all, he hoped the girl wasn’t just visions caused by his tired mind.

 

[slippedhalo]

She'd been roused from her midday meditations by her great aunt Marigold's voice, "Rowena, purify the medium sized cauldron and begin preparations for a pain stilling tea brew! I've been scrying, a visitor this way comes soon and he'll be needing some...hurry, it's important you do it this time, Treasure, it requires your touch!"

"Yes, Auntie, right away!" She called back, removing her vestments and heading to the washbasin to cleanse herself with collected rainwater blessed by moonlight as she'd been taught to do before beginning a spell, potion, or magical ritual, reciting The Witch's Rede as she moved in careful rehearsed movements. She'd been taught her family and coven's ways well and would not disappoint when one day the torch of serving those mundane folk who required magic would be passed down to her. Already, she did most of the work herself now and the older women merely nodded in approval or instructed when a tip would help.

As Marigold had predicted a visitor was at their door within the hour. Rowena was caught up in mixing the potion with the tea leaves as the old women let him inside out of the rain. His voice sounded kind but proud. His accent, not local.

Still focused on the task at hand, she finished the last step, singing the necessary chant, before turning to redress in her soft purple robe and join the others with an apologetic smile. " Hello, my apologies for tardiness. I was working on your brew." She explained.

Grandmee smiled and spoke up, bringing Rowena closer to meet the visitor. "My granddaughter, Rowena. She's learning the craft from us, been a disciple at our ankles since she was but three, this one. A grand student, a fantastic young witch. Rowena, meet the grandson of the beer miller.Wade."

"Wade Miller?" asked Rowena shaking his hand, shocked, literally, as a spark jolted both of them.

The old women chortled, "Fisher." Corrected Marigold.

"Wade Fisher..." said Rowena, editing herself. Her grandmother gave a shrug ad if to convey it made no sense to her either.

Marigold chimed in. "He's to spend the night, and fix the roof. "

"Oh." Said Rowena. "Welcome. I'm so sorry about your kin. I'll do everything I can to ease his suffering." She vowed. His eyes looked down at her with wonder that made her blush. It was as a man trying to ascertain if he's awake or dreaming.

"Where are you from? Not these parts from your accent." She asked conversationally.

 

[ArcticAvenue]

There are days when Wade wished he was more of a hat wearer. Not that he prefers to wear hats, but there are days. Days like when the hot sun beats down on his brownish hair. Days when rain can’t stay out of his eyes. Then days like today, when he could have been the gentleman and hold a hat in front of him. Now, all Wade could do is shuffle behind a chair, and do his best to not appear he is hiding his growing problem. It was tough for him. He stood tall in this room compared to the women. The clothes he wore were from the year before and while he stopped growing up, a summer doing farm work left his brown trousers and grey wool shirt tight against his strong frame.

“Aye, nice to meet you, Miss Rowena,” he nodded with a smile. He is less in control of his eyes at this time than he preferred, but tried to do all he could to look her in the eye. “I … come up from Blackwood. Just be down the road from Ryesbridge and Huddlesford. Be less than a day’s journey from here, it is.”

She was more stunning now that she stood in the same room. The hair, the soft features, the clean skin. HIs face flushed deeply knowing that just moments before he saw her fully, though not directly. He turned his head away and looked at nothing around the room in particular. “Excuse the accent if it be difficult for you. I was schooled in the city, and the nuns were awfully quick to remind me of it. My pa comes from the Glasgow, see, and me mom from Blackwood. So it mixes up like a chunky bit of butter. Me grandfather used to ...”

He stopped and remembered what brought him to this place to begin with. “I did not tell you about my grandfather much. His illness I mean. He is in bed and we worry, so, but he only mentions Miss Lorelei and Miss Marigold.”

 

[slippedhalo]

Lorelai explained, "Rowena is not advertised as a witch to others. She's young yet. People don't trust her magic as they do ours even though these last couple of years it is she doing most of the healing and potions making. She's a strong witch. Better than us both, but we look the part people expect."

Rowena found it strange that this man wouldn't look at her while they talked. Rude, really. "Big city boy, then." She commented.

He moved to the table just as grandmee had finished setting it for supper, Auntie set the stewpot onto a potholder in the center and began ladling into bowls so Rowena joined everyone at the table. The strange man still looked all around but not at her face. "Is this all the rage now in the city? Not looking anyone in the eye when speaking to them?" Asked Rowena. "I like to know the sort of person I speak to. What color his eyes may be and such. Your grandfather, for example, the shade of grey in his tell of honesty, a hard worker, but a man who doesn't trust easily.Greys don't let people in easily but once they have, can be loyal to the end...I am sorry to know he's so close to it now, the end. But, he's a good man. Summerland will welcome his spirit and we'll ease his pain all we can before he's called there."

Grandmee looked into Wade's eyes. "His speak of doubt, self doubt and doubt of our magic. "

"Oh." Was again all Rowena could think to say. She started her stew.

Marigold chimed in, "I very nearly married that man back when I was Rowena's age. We loved each other as passionately as ignorant young can. But, I saw another was better for him than me. I introduced him to her."

 

[ArcticAvenue]

When he entered this home, Wade felt confident, in control, and steadfast in how he saw the world. It the time that it takes for a bird to take flight, all of those were shook to their foundation. Every word from these ladies was about devil’s work moreso than he could expect and would in unknown company. That was just the half of it.

He looked to Rowena, “My apologies, Miss. I meant not to bother for … That is … Where I come from looking one in the eye is appropriate but it would be impolite t-to stare at one too long as well. Especially one …” He held his tongue briefly as his words mixed within his mind. Looking at Rowena was fairly distracting in itself, “... that is … especially one enchanting ..

“Y-you nearly married my grandfather?” His subject change was as quick as the flashes of lightning outside trying to ignore suggestions of magic.

Marigold chimed in, "I very nearly married that man back when I was Rowena's age. We loved each other as passionately as ignorant young can. But, I saw another was better for him than me. I introduced him to her."

His attention turned down to his bowl, “Then while I am sorry to you. He has always been a good man to me and my grandmother. Surely, it was not in God’s plan but I have you to thank for life then; as I would not be here if it tweren’t for the marriage of my Grandfather and Grandmother’s, God rest her soul.”

This got some dismissive chuckling .

Wade feeling he just continues to offend these people he turned his attention to his stew. He was probably most embarrassed that he fumbles and strains so in front of Rowena. Her opinion of him now seems to be what was most important to him. “And how then did you know him? I was only aware they met in church, did you go to the same then?”

 

[slippedhalo]

"Oh, in the old days many a Christian youngster would sneak out for the Pagan festivals. He and I met during a Beltane festival. He joined in with some of the men, bare chested and free, to light the fires. We danced ourselves breathless, we did, then our eyes met and the mother moon had her way with us, kissing in the moonlight, well until dawn. After that, he visited more than the usual half dozen times per year. By the time we were feeding each other eggs during Oester's rites he'd asked if I would be willing to worship Christian god by day and remain faithful to the moon goddess at night, for then he'd love to both marry and hand fast with me. I told him I loved him so I'd learn more about this god of his to see if I could live that way...I took a catchetism class. Lorelai had tried to talk me out of it. Didn't you, sister?"

Lorelai chimed in between finishing her glass of wine and adding more to all other cups before her own, "Aye, I did. He's a wonderful man, true. But, I didn't like his shame of paganism. It felt all wrong, Marigold Morgain in a catchetism class..."

"In this class I met a lovely lady, Vivian Driscoll, your grandmother. We became friends. Naturally, I introduced my friend to my lover and, well, I am a mystic but even a mundane could tell there was a connection between them he and I would never have. I politely dropped the class. Lorelai is right, it wasn't for me. I told him as much as I cared for him I would always remain proud of being a witch and loyal to the goddess. The god is fine but the people who follow him baffle me in making no room for the mother beside the father...it's not sensible...and I told him to court Vivian. She was destined to be his. And, one day our paths would cross again in a different way. My body is not for child bearing and he must have sons and grandsons, particularly one grandson who would bring our two families together once more but in a more accepting generation."

Rowena gasped. She was reading between lines none of the other listeners seemed to be noticing. "His grandson was meant to meet our family and lear n our ways, Auntie?!"

"Yes, yes, child. I've known this bloke was on his way here for years, just not the reason why...so sad. I have loved both your grandparents dearly, boy. Please, let us help in any way we can. Rowena can be his nurse. Let her go back with you and help take care of him. She can stand the journey better than our old joints, and seeing me in his final days could be confusing or painful. Let her bring him comfort."

Rowena looked across the table at Wade, "It seems I'm destined to help you. Please let me fulfill this."

 

[ArcticAvenue]

Wade listened, feeling the blood begin to rise in him. He listened, he held his tongue, he tried to remain respectful, but there is so much a man can take.

“Now Hear Now,” he said slamming his fork to the table.

“It be one thing to humor a dying Grandfather with some soup he remembers as a lad. I be fine if she wants to come along with me as his nurse, the Lord knows I could use a hand around the farm. But the rest of it … it’s … it’s …”

He stopped, took a deep breath. They peered at him, and he wasn’t sure if they were truely offended now or were showing him pity or what have you. When his concern turned to Rowena, this kindly young lass who seemed so out of place. As ugly and old her family was, she was the blossom in the weeds. Maybe that is why he was here, for her.

“Excuse my hubris, ladies. It has been quite a long day. This place, what you tell me, it comes like drinking a whole barrel from the tap. I don’t doubt your story, nor you believe what you do. But I believe we all are in God’s plan, which I see maybe is why I am here now. But the Devil has a plan too, if you know what I mean.”

 

[slippedhalo]

They laughed. "Devil..." repeated Rowena, laughing hardest of the three. "It's one thing to have imaginary friends, all children go through such phases, stretching imaginations and such... Only you people have imaginary enemies...devil, heheheh, we don't believe in a devil, or in hell. We're in it. Every war, every ounce of suffering we bring upon ourselves, upon others, jealousy, malice...we do these things. If there's a devil he's as much in us all as the goddess and God are. We create our own hell on earth every day and every day we have the power to create paradise instead. Look inside yourself, miller boy with the Fisher's name. We speak the truth and you know it. I agree, you seem tired. I'll give you my bed. Rest up and I'll trust you to watch that temper of yours stays in check."

With that said, she rose from the table and moved to the back room where two large beds were. She pointed to the one near the window and said, "That's mine. Normally I sleep there and grandmee shares with auntie. You can chose who sleeps beside you...sleep, nothing untoward. We're witches not nymphs. If you didn't trust yourself or us I can try putting some extra straw on the floor and I'll sleep there... in case our witchiness is too repulsive for you to be close to."

 

[ArcticAvenue]

“Well, I wouldn’t think of suggesting you were anything but … umm, more I wouldn’t think nymphs. But putting you out of your own bed” he harrumphed coming down from his minor tantrum. “Not only would it be absolute ungentlemanly for me to put you out; but … If me mum found out that you were to sleep on the floor and I not, she surely would tan me hide like I was still a wee lad.”

“A Gentleman,” stated Marigold with a smile. “Like your Grandfather.”

“Then, it is decided,” Lorelei affirmed. “Share the bed with Rowena and we will all sleep comfortably.”

Wade began to interject. Before he could, he found himself watching Rowena move about the room doing … well … he didn’t comprehend much at that point. Just that he soon would be sharing a bed with her.

“Would it be too much trouble … if there is a well or … If the weather be less now, I could wash up a bit before bed? I would hate to offend with my own stink.”

 

[slippedhalo]

Rowena looked Wade up and down. "I should've considered that. I'll get the washing basin...It's special water, purified by nature...Do you need it warmed?" She asked, handing him clean towels.

As he washed himself she turned her back, removing her heavy robe and grabbing an airy linnen nightgown to put on. When she was dressed she turned, washed her face with the clean water then perched upon the bed facing the window as she sat and chanted a bedtime prayer to the moon goddess for protection and a night full of enlightening dreams. By the time she'd climbed beneath the quilt he was watching her with wonder. She was uncertain why he found her so odd. She was just doing what she always did before bedtime.

 

[ArcticAvenue]

Wade took just a minute or two to scrub down. His wool shirt fallen to the floor behind him as he cleaned. She was right here in this room, right by him as he was half dressed, and when she prepared for bed it was clear she must have changed dressing as well. She stopped to make a prayer that, if it weren’t to some pagan goddess, would be downright holy. He realized he was absentmindedly rubbing his chest with the wet towel and staring at her. When she looked back confused at him, he jumped a little shamefully.

“Sorry,” he said looking away and pulling his shirt back on. He kicked his boots off but thought to leave the trousers on to not offend her. “Me mind wandered a bit there. The way we get ready for bed be like an old married couple is all, and I known ya for just a short bit here, ya?”

He lifted the quilt and slid himself underneath it. His look to her was questioning, to make sure what he does is alright, to sleep in the same bed. He is still new to knowing her, but so quickly they were just inches apart.

 

[slippedhalo]

The old women were finishing things up in the other room. Grandmee paraded into the room stark naked, her loose, wrinkled flesh moving with her as she shuffled, singing to herself, reaching into a dresser beside the bed she shared with her sister and pulling out a nightgown to put on herself, saying her own prayers but in Latin, then the old tongue of the kelts. Rowena smiled her way and bade her sweet dreams.

She turned her attention back to Wade. He lie beside her in her bed, clearly uncomfortable and she thought of the words of auntie and put her hand over his heart. "Restful sleep, Wade. If we seem familiar it can only be a good sign. In this life we may have just met but I've known you in many other lives many times before. I don't mind sharing the bed with you. I doubt you'd be awful, crude, rude, or anything like that with my family here in the same room."

Marigold came in, her nightclothes already on. She wished everyone a good night and blew out the lamps, climbing into bed with her already snoring sister.

Rowena sighed softly in the darkness, turning to lie on her back so she could feel the moonlight upon her through the window. "Goodnight, Wade." She whispered before closing her eyes.

 

[ArcticAvenue]

“Restful Sleep, Miss Rowena,” he said in the darkness of the room. He was wary, but the night’s activities remained cluttered in his head.

To say he was uncomfortable with this place would be an understatement. All that he knows is what is good and holy. The idea that someone would think of any other goddess than The God is using words placed there by the devil. Then these women, all of them, seem so comfortable in using blasphemy that they are fully embracing their ideas, like some kind of disease. If he remains he remains susceptible to the same poison.

Yet he’s still here.

What they say changes all what he knows about his good kind hearted grandfather. That he could have allowed a witch to be near him, or convince him to marry one of her choosing? Or for that matter to suggest his grandfather danced with them bare chested. If that wasn’t horrifying enough, to suggests their families would re-unite. That is something he cannot, should not stand for.

Yet he’s still here.

Then there is the women themselves. They found themselves too easy to be forward and blunt. They show their bodies, even the most ugly older bodies, without worry or quirk. Sure, seeing Rowena was nothing to object about, but the practice was too direct, too unladylike.

Yet he’s still here.

While he lay in the bed under the quilt, the cool wet air of the night filled the room. He could feel it on his face, against his hands gripping the hem of the blanket, and in the air he breathes. Yet his body remained warm. It was her closeness that did so. Her body, so soft and supple like one that he could really see himself marrying someday. As he tried to close his eyes, as he tried to sleep, that vision of Rowena naked across the hallway filled him -- and the knowledge her form lay close by.

This maybe a long night.

 

[slippedhalo]

Rowena had dreamt strange, vivid dreams and yet awoke with fuzzy,vague nonsensical half-recollections of nothing at all. She was warm, quite relaxed, though, and found herself rested in Wade's arms, wrapped protectively around her in his slumber.

She wriggled around in his arms so she could see his face. It was so peaceful and handsome, the lines of it smooth and worry free while he softly snored against her shoulder. She yawned, watched the colors of sunrise on the ceiling and walls, then snuggled against his strong chest, enjoying this safe feeling of sleeping in someone's arms, all safe and warm...so, she drifted back off to sleep.

Always, every time she closed her eyes she risked the memory of the burning day...Thankfully, it felt like sleeping with Wade holding her, listening to his heartbeat, she almost could convince her unconscious mind it was her mother's heart beating beside her head and if her heart beat then the burning must never have happened...Sadly, she knew on some level that was not true. The tears Rowena cried in her sleep made Wade's neck and chest quite wet.

 

[ArcticAvenue]

Wade’s dreams were maddening. Witches, dancing naked around fires and pots chanting spells, but all too fuzzy to see anything but the fiery hair on the their heads. When they see him, they point to him and call his name. He looks down to see that he too is naked, and confused. Before he can react, a white form rushes by him and joins in the dance, It is his grandfather, and he says the same words, moves the same way, knows all that is that is to be so wicked.

He tries to scream for it to stop, but nothing comes out, nothing calms him. Until a warm presences ascends from the heavens, light and beautiful even if he couldn’t make out what it was. He reaches for it to pull it closer, and it begins to fade more into clearer shapes. It is a body, and it is hair, red hair. Soon the hair running down this angel’s back is the only thing that separates the two.

Daylight is coming in, and he can hear noises in another room as he begins to wake. He realizes now that in his arms is Rowena. He can’t tell if she is awake or asleep, but she is very much embedded in his embrace. He panics at first, wonders what he did to her in the night while she slept, but he realizes he remains in his trousers and she in her nightgown. More so, this feels really nice, like it is how things are supposed to be. Afraid to wake her and happy to stay this way, he waits and leaves her to lay in his arms.

 

[slippedhalo]

Rowena reawakens to overhear Auntie saying, "...aye, quite beautiful together like that, yes, but hopefully they can be better than just a pretty picture and get up to do something useful today. It's not like that child to sleep so late."

Her grandmee's voice in the other room was softer via distance, "It's the comfort of a soulmate's embrace. It takes you by surprise with the rightness of it, warm and safe...The first time you lie in the arms of your destined mate it's easy to lose track of time, Mari."

"Aye, yes...but I hope she's up soon. The goat needs milking and she gives creamier stuff for that girl's soft, clever hands."

Her sense of responsibility moved Rowena to sit up and stretch, "I think I must have overslept, Wade. You keep a bed more comfortable than any blanket or hot water bottle I've ever known." She joked, just a gentle tease, but the compliment was there. She enjoyed having him in her bed, whatever that said to the others about fate, it made her think she could face her fate more easily even if it did mean the possibility of a life shrouded in secrecy, surrounded by those who'd burn her alive if they ever found out her beliefs...

She rose from the bed and took clothes from the drawer, taking them to dress in the kitchen whilst preparing tea, coffee and bread. She hastened to gather seven hens eggs and was milking the goat when she heard Wade's voice in polite conversation with her grandmother and great aunt inside.

 

[ArcticAvenue]

“I mean,” Wade said, stirring a bit of tea, , “wouldn’t ya be chased from the town? That is the stories I hear all too often. Witches burned at the stake and such.”

“No, no,” Marigold tsked, “We don’t harm the townspeople, so why should they light any fires.”

“Annnnnd,” Lorelei piped in, “half of ‘em sneak out this way for the medicines the chemist don’t hand out. Would be if they wanted to burn their own doctor.”

“But, when I was in town, it seemed none were very warm to me coming out this way.”

“Posh,” one of them harrumphed.

“Well,” Wade shrugged. “If Rowena becomes my … I mean, comes with me to help with me grandfather .. Would there be needs to ….” He looked down at his tea, stirring it again. None of this was too comfortable to him anymore. All he wanted was some strange soup for his grandfather, and now there was way too much talk about bringing families together. Too much of it he is accepting too easily. “There will be those who aren’t as, well, welcoming as our family may be. I just worry about …” He sighed heavily, tried to look around as if seeing if Rowena was back, “I would worry about her, when … well .. if I can’t protect her.”

The older ladies just smiled at first, warmly and softly; like things were blooming just like they hoped.

Which of course worried Wade even more.

 

[slippedhalo]

Rowena entered with the milk jug full, still a bit warm as it was fresh. She'd overheard some of the talk but busied herself with making sure the table was set.

"Morning, all!" She greeted cheerfully. "Summer was anxious for her milking this morning. I think the milk will be wonderful." She said as everyone assembled at the table.

Lorelai was putting magical items for various use in place for the days' work before coming to the table. " Scryed in the tea leaves, Fern Marten will be stopping by tomorrow with the youngest of their babes. She needs that nipple salve. He's nursing too hard and the poor dear's got cracked, sore 'uns."

She sat with the others and they prepared their plates.

Rowena looked to Wade, handing him the basket of rolls and said, "I am touched by your concern for my safety in town with you, Wade. The truth is, although my nan and auntie don't like to think so we are living in more dangerous times than when they were young. Even then there had been some risk but...I've personally seen more of the bad side of humanity toward our kind than they have. My true belief, though, is that having survived before I'd survive again because I'm older and wiser now...but, I'll ease your mind by saying I will not openly acknowledge what I am to strangers while we're in town. I will keep my beliefs to safe havens and private properties. I won't risk the safety of you and your family. But, understand it will sometimes cause me hardship as I might be expected to feign Christianity...That could be hard for me...but as long as its practices don't conflict with my beliefs I will do what is required of me."

Marigold watched her niece with pride and sadness in her gaze. "...sounds like me back when...My dear, you're a stronger one than me. You'll do just fine."

 

[ArcticAvenue]

Wade listened to Rowena, chewing slowly on a roll. He watched beginning to see the strong woman her loved ones seemed to key on, and a little smile came to his face. He somehow became self conscious of the way he looked at her, so he turned away, looked down at the the milk and picked at the bread.

“Worry not much about the feigning Christianity, Miss,” he shrugged. “It’s mostly good folk doing good deeds, which your heart seems to be in such a place, if you ask me. The rest, the witchery and things, that be easy to hide if you keep your clothes on.”

He blinked a couple times on his words, “that is … not saying you would be trouncing around naked, or such horrible things as that. Not that you being naked is horrible, far from it if you ask me …. not saying I have such a judgement … or do … I mean, you nearly laid within my feel last night … I mean, I didn’t take a feel, no I did not … I am just saying that … no I don’t think such judgement … or ...or …”

His voice slowly trailed off as his face turned a crimson red. “Maybe I should just see to the roof now, so we can be our way soon.” He slinked his way to the door to begin the chore, already ready to list the names to call himself for being such a fool in front of her.

 

[slippedhalo]

"...if you keep your clothes on...not that your being naked is horrible...you nearly laid within my feel..."

Rowena sat there, eyes wide with bemused shock, jaw agape at his gaffs as he tripped over his tongue over and over, seeming unable to right himself. He was lucky she wasn't a more sensitive, touchy type who was readily offended. The chortling of her grandmee and great aunt was a constant and grew louder with each inch further Wade shoved his own foot into his mouth. Soon it was contagious and she too was laughing.

By the time the three witches had recovered, breathless and teary-eyed, he was looking more sherpish and embarrassed than ever, and was leaving th e table to slink away and do work on the roof.

Rowena got up to follow him. She said nothing, just handed him the materials he needed and let him work in silence until she could see a softening in his expression and the redness leaving his face and ears. A minute after that, (she'd counted it off in her head) she said, "Wade, thank you."

 

[ArcticAvenue]

He grinned a little and got to work on the roof with her help. He calmed some, as good labor always does to him, so when she thanked him he nearly forgot the moment of embarrassment inside. Somewhat unsure why he needed thanks he assumed, “no need for thanks, Miss. The roof, it needed a fix, would be unkindly of me to ignore it after the offer of a warm bed.”

It wasn’t going to take him long, and with the materials in hand it was going quite quickly. “And it is me who should thank you. Since you let me share your bed and … well, I remember waking up and holding you in the morning but don’t remember why I would have done that to you, yet you did not make much fuss.”

 

[slippedhalo]

Rowena blushed when she recalled the comfort of Wade's arms, "It's fine, Wade. I quite liked it." She admitted. "I haven't had a guest before, I mean, family, yes but...this was nice different, but nice." Oh dear! She found herself blushing again.

Changing the subject, she asked, "What's your grandfather's place like? I've made him tea before but never been sent out to bring it. My family are protective of me. When my mother died they really closed ranks around me...I haven't left the forest in years, never on my own. They must like you to be sending me with you."

 

[ArcticAvenue]

Wade angled the wood tiles over culprit on the roof and set about hammering it into place. Trying to focus on the repairs was key at this point, just simply because he felt the rush of blood head to toe of a blush. She found it nice! Lying together like that she found nice! Then the thought of possibly more time with here … well …

Wade tried to focus on her question, tried to focus on anything than remembering her body against his.

“My grandfather’s place,” he started.

He put his hammer down, the fix complete, and he scooted to the edge of the roof with his feet hanging over the edge.

“Well, its a farm. Guess you could say it is not remarkably like any other farm you would see. Sheep, goats. Fields of barley coming up in the summer sun. We be a bit on the side of a valley, so from the farmhouse you can see sweeping lands of grain rippling like waves across the sea.” He stared off, picturing the land himself as he described it. “Up on the hills on either side of the valley is nice heavy trees, some dense some not. There be a few orchards there, the apples ripe for picking soon enough. The old Blackwood manor is back there too, stoney and moss covered from years of rotting back in the woods. But the farm … the farm is the best part. So much open land, so much clean air … nothing like the city.”

He smiled a little and looked towards her with a shrug. “See, I was raised in the city. Me mom only let me visit the farm in the summers. Grew to love it, and hope to take it over someday. I mean … I am sure this place has it’s charms but …” He smiled wider and shook his head. “Not like Blackwood.”

 

[slippedhalo]

"Farming is good. It keeps a person grounded and well in touch with nature. People who are good at growing and cultivating, that's an honorable sort of green magic when done with great purpose and intention." Said Rowena. "I'm good with plants, me, and have wondered at times what it must be to have rows and rows of something good growing, acres...It must be a satisfying feeling seeing the results, harvesting a crop."

"In France I have a relative with vines, grapes to make wine with. That was fun too. I spent one summer in my childhood with nan and auntie visiting witches on the continent. It was then we discovered a distant relation, and wine making, in Bourges, of all places...learned French, Italian and Spanish that year too. Thank goodness for so many years of Latin lessons or those others would have taken me forever to pick up. How many languages have you learned in your city schools, Wade?"

 

[ArcticAvenue]

Wade sat slightly stunned by her accounts of her travels. “Ummm … languaGES?” He scratched at his head, messing with his full blondish hair on his head. “I thought witches just learn some form of Latin they don’t write in the bible, like they do in those Catholic schools or so.”

He hopped down from the roof, easily coming to his feet next to her and picked up the tools readying them for storage once more. “No experience like that we’d get in the city, Pa wouldn’t barely spend a coin to go to the seaside let alone cross it.” He tried to sound impressed, best he could. Such an education changed things somewhat. She was no longer just a witch, one left about the woods to play naked with fire and demons. She was educated, far better than him, and what should have scared him just grew his interst in her more.

“I want to hear more of your travels, but we have some traveling ahead of us as well. You know when me grandfather’s drink will be ready? We’d have to leave soon, or we would need to spend the night on the road somewheres.”