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CHAPTER SIXTEEN: SOLSTICE D’ETE
MARIE
Three large fires were already set up by the time I had returned, with two long tables set up where various women and children baked and kneaded honey cakes for all to feast on.
I walked through the hum of people, nodding my head in greeting as I went. Two men who I didn’t know the names of, hauled a large tankard of mead outside, only to fetch another once the first was settled atop the grass. Everything came together seamlessly, the work of generations who knew what to do - what was expected.
I didn’t miss the appreciative glances that seemed to settle in my direction, no doubt, the men wondering if I would participate in tonight’s festivities. It took a few more years after that childhood summer, but I discovered what the men and women of the village did in the forest soon enough, and tonight I would not be partaking in such activities. For to partake in those festivities would give the illusion that I was prepared to stay in the village indefinitely - was open to finding a good match within the village and leaving the life that I had spent so long carving out for myself, behind.
I sat with the various members of this community as they wrote down their hopes, dreams and aspirations for the season for summer, before they allowed their scribbles to be burnt up in the fire, casting their intentions to the elements. Girls sat in circles, braiding one another’s hair; other’s danced; some reenacted fables and beliefs of old - each one detailing a summer tale.
A small dark haired child ran waywardly through the field, weaving between the tents as she dragged a string of colorful ribbons fluttering behind her. Her feet were bare, her hair was wild and I couldn’t help but imagine that if I had a child, she would be equally wayward and wild.
The mead was plenty and the people were jovial as various members made their way towards me to either thank me for our hospitality, or beg my assistance with spellwork - some even asking for a simple blessing, as if my hands were divine somehow. I shuddered against that thought alone, but I did nothing to dissuade that notion, for one of the first lessons my grandmother had ever taught me was that sometimes the person’s belief in our Magick could be more powerful than Magick itself.
By the time night fell, I was exhausted, my bones stiff and weary from standing for so long, my cheeks ached from the forced pleasantries and my mind filled with a list of spells and potions the community had requested from me. I simply wanted to go home, even when I wasn’t certain where that was. But I knew that this didn’t feel like home - no matter how the River and woods called to me, this felt like a job, and I found that I didn’t like working unless it was on my terms.
Nicu seemed to keep a wide berth from me, his gaze finding mine throughout the day, but as tempting as it was - as he was, I didn’t find his offer the least bit appealing. I made my way towards the fire, prepared to ring the bell, allowing those both single and married to find their couplings in the woods, to offer their thanks to the Mother through physical acts of desire on the earth herself, but it was Marta who halted me in my tracks. She held the bell, motioning with her hands for me to join them - to partake. I shook my head, the movement heavy and awkward, but Marta motioned me once more, shooing me away as she rang the bell, causing the woman to lift their skirts as they bolted towards the wooded area. I held my breath, watching them - watching their joy and inhibition, wishing that on some level I belonged, but I would never be one of them - could never throw caution to the wind and spend the night in the forest with one of the village men, for I had done that once, and it had ended in disaster. And there, standing on the edge of the festivities, was the dark haired girl I had first seen clinging to Julian, tears welling up in her eyes as she refused to participate in the activities, remaining loyal only to Julian. The bitter taste of regret burnt the back of my throat, souring the joy and desire surrounding me. I wanted to go to her - wanted to console her - wanted to apologize - wanted to help her set a life up with him away from here, but in the end, I could do none of those things, for no matter what Julian had done to me, I was the cause of his banishment - I was the cause of her unhappiness.
I had been too focused on Julian’s girl that I did not notice Marta’s movements until she was right atop of me.
“Do not allow your pride to spoil your pleasure.” Her voice jolted me on the spot, causing me to blush beneath the evening sky.
“I don’t think finding pleasure in the forest with one of them is the best idea, wouldn’t you agree?” I snapped the words at her, hoping that my rosying cheeks weren’t visible, but the old woman had a quick eye.
“You assume that finding pleasure needs to be done with a partner girl, I thought all these years of you being alone would have made you adept at being a solo cellist.”
I stared at Marta, agape at her words. She could not be saying what I thought she was. She seemed to read the disbelief in my expression, tusking quickly before adding, “go and watch - we have all done it, and what better way to reacquaint yourself with your people.”
“These aren’t my people.” It was the only defense I had - the only words I could push past my lips.
“It was you who abandoned us, not the other way around.”
“You didn’t exactly come looking for me.” It was the argument I should have had with my grandmother.
“Why look for something that was always destined to return?”
She couldn’t be serious. Marta must have lost her ever loving mind in her ripe old age.
“Funny way of welcoming someone destined to return - banning them from the wailing.” I raised a brow at her in challenge, but the old woman only smiled.
“An ornament may still belong in a house, it doesn’t mean it automatically gets the spot atop the mantle simply because it belongs. Such places are earned.”
I snorted. The sound so wildly unladylike and unfitting to the setting, causing Marta to widen her grin, showing her missing tooth in the process.
“You just compared me to an ornament.” I couldn’t wait to tell Zoey, knowing that out of everyone, she would get a kick out of such a statement.
“If you think that simply because you wield Magick, you are nothing more than a bit of window dressing on this plane, you are sorely mistaken. We are all here as ornaments - our usefulness often depending on how shiny and new we look. You have the gift of being useful as well as pretty, if not a bit ill tempered.”
Marta rang the bell a second time, the sound causing the men to rush towards the woods, seeking out their partners - either for the night, or for life, I still wasn’t certain.
“You should go now so you can watch.” The old woman turned her back towards me, leaving her parting words and instruction, and I found myself moving towards the woods, curious to see - to watch. When Juliana and I became teenagers, we knew what occured in these woods on Summer Solstice, but neither of us were willing to try - not until we had experienced at least one night with one another - committed ourselves for life, away from the prying eyes of the village, for being the granddaughter of Jeanne des Montagnes came with an abundance of scrutiny, and what happened if I was bad at sex? What if I was a disappointment somehow? It was those doubts that had me waiting - demanding privacy from him, robbing myself from the experience of what happened in the woods. And, I hadn’t wanted to spy - hadn’t wanted to be caught or stumbled upon, suddenly vulnerable and expected to participate, and so I had avoided the ritual entirely.
My boots stepped lightly across the forest floor, the sounds of passionate moans ricocheting off the branches, the forest suddenly a chorus of lust and desire. And still, I wandered deeper. It was as if the forest herself was shielding me, hiding me from vie, and when I eventually stumbled across a couple, a red haired woman pressed against a tree with her legs wrapped around her lover’s waist, his bare ass moving in a rutting motion, I watched, taking note of her moans - of the way her head thrashed back and forth - his mouth biting into her neck as she cried out loudly.
I was hardly an innocent when it came to passion and sex - had taken both men and women, delighting in both equally, and yet, there was something deliciously senusal about watching them from the darkness - about seeing her face scrunch up tight as she tried to stave off her climax, until she finally couldn’t hold of any longer, her thighs shuddering around him as he yelled his own set of profantities.
The moment after they had both found their release I suddenly felt like an intruder, choosing to avert my gaze as he dropped her bare feet to the forest floor with a gentleness that made me ache and long for things that I had no true understanding of. I hurried through the forest once more sticking to the shadows, a voyeur amongst men, until I fell upon another couple, only this time I recognized him.
