Dancing Among The Stars

Over the untamed forests of Verda, the full moon sailed across the starry sky.  Barefoot and wearing a simple tunic, Sergius stood on the balcony.  He raised his eyes to look on the moon, on the goddess Luna.  The night air hung thick with energy and magic.  Sergius felt his blood sing with the force of the celestial orchestra, a voice too loud to let him sleep.

Once his people would have gathered to celebrate the ultimate waxing of the moon.  But that was before, in less civilized times.  Now the Romans left paying homage to Luna to their priests and priestesses, secluded in their golden temples.  On a night like this, when his own body seemed to be acting in accord with powers beyond him, Sergius did not want to let some holy person intercede.  He wanted to worship Luna himself.

The balcony looked over a small field within the palisade.  From the field, Sergius heard a baying which held the passionate note of a woman's voice.  He glanced down once, and looked again.  A circle of lights appeared on the field, a ring of many tiny flames.  The cries came from a small figure within the ring.

His curiosity piqued, Sergius descended the stairs and walked out onto the field.  He felt the ground and grass under his bare feet, dewy moist and yielding.  The rich scent of rain-soaked earth clung to him.  In the moonlight, Sergius had a clear view.  Somehow, he did not find it surprising that Ariane stood in the center of a ring of candles.      

Treading in silence, Sergius moved forward.  Ariane stood naked under the stars, under the moon, the Great Mother, with her thin arms raised to the sky.  The moonlight shone on her pale, bare body, and her skin gained a luminescence.  For the first time, Sergius could see Ariane's tattoo, the great green dragon whose snapping head covered her shoulder.  The body and tail of the dragon curved down her spine.

Sergius shivered against his will.  The notion of Druid needles puncturing that precious flesh to brand her with the Dragon of Wisdom filled him with an indescribable dread.  He did not like to be reminded that he and Ariane came from two different worlds, and to his luck that did not happen often.  Yet right now, he could not pretend Ariane was a Romanized woman.  Tonight she was a Briton, a Druid in full form and untamed bliss.

Ariane spread her arms out and raised her voice to the sky.  "Great Mother!  Lady of the Night!  I am the dancer, and you are the dance.  Play for me the song without end, the song which is your essence."

She brought her hands together over her head.  The clap resounded in the silent night.  "Move me, Great Mother!  Come into me and fill me with your dance!"

Her cry filled the air, her exultation in the Great Mother and the snap from consciousness to trance.  Ariane began to sway, she began to move as if a quartet of musicians played for her.  She danced to the rhythms of nature and the Mother Moon.  Raised on the balls of her feet, she whirled, gyrating her hips, undulating to a music only she could hear.  Her hair trailed in her wake, streaming out from her and wrapping her body in its softness.  She cried out to the moon, her hands flung upwards.

Sergius worked out the knot in his throat.  For once, he choked not in ardor, but in awe.  Never before had he witnessed a priestess drawing down the moon, a holy woman become one with her goddess.  Part of him knew she should not be watching now.  No doubt Ariane thought herself alone with the Great Mother.  Sergius had no business watching and gaping, yet he could not move away.

Ariane's voice increased and diminished like the notes of a piper on his flute.  She danced in abandon, smiling and laughing.  Sergius noticed the taut muscles of her thighs, her arms, flexing and slacking in her graceful movements.

She slowed down to a gradual spin, descending from a height Sergius could not understand.  Stopping, she let her arms fall to her sides and held them out from her body.  In one swift motion, she turned on her heel.  Her large green eyes met his in the moonlight.  

"Sergius!  What are you doing here?"

"I could not sleep," he said, quick to explain his presence.  He wondered how long Ariane had been outside like this, and how she had managed to sing to the moon without calling attention to herself.  She had managed to achieve peace and isolation, the rarest commodities in Aleria.  He swept his questions aside.

Ariane folded her arms over her bare breasts and laughed.  She seemed unconcerned with her nudity in his company.  "Of course not.  The Mother Moon must run in your blood.  You shall never sleep when the moon calls you."

Sergius noticed that Ariane was not even out of breath.  For all her spinning, she did not seem dizzy.  Indeed, it must be some Druid trick.  "What were you doing?"

"Dancing for the stars."  Ariane stretched out her arms above her head, lifting her breasts in the motion.  "The night of the Mother Moon is a holy night, Sergius.  I invite the Great Mother into me, that I might share her divinity for a time.  I understand some Roman priestesses do it as well, and I have heard the Vestals draw down the moon in their rites."

The breeze swept through her hair, stirring soft ringlets into her bright face.  Sergius trembled at her beauty.  "I would like to dance with you."

Ariane smiled like a clever cat.  "I thought dancing was beneath Roman dignity."

"But not my own dignity."  Sergius moved forward to take her hands.  "Indeed, I think to ignore the inviting dance of a beautiful woman is more undignified."

"I can teach you the dance, if you want."  One corner of her mouth rose in a grin.  "But unless you can shed the weight of your position and your Roman propriety, you will gain nothing from it."

"How can I do that?"

Ariane led him to a little cauldron, hanging over a fire.  Taking a ladle into her hands, she scooped out some of the liquid and poured it into an earthen cup.  She cradled the cup in her hands and turned to Sergius.  "If you would know Her, drink of this."

Sergius sniffed the cup she handed to him, inhaling the robust, spicy fragrance.  "What is it?"

"Eyebright, chamomile, peppermint, melissa and thyme, steeped and boiled in well water."  Ariane nodded to him, encouraging him to drink.  "It will help open you up to the Great Mother.  You will need extra help, because you are male."

"Thanks."  He gave the cup one last skeptical glance, and then shrugged.  What harm could it do him?  Putting the cup to his lips, he drank the hot liquid.  The brew tasted pleasant, both mellow and full of flavor.

Heat chased down his throat and spread through his body.  He began to feel somehow wide, more expansive, as if he could contain the universe within him.  Ariane stood watching him, waiting for some transformation.  Before he had finished the brew, he felt receptive and open and exhilarated.  "Is this Druid magic?"

Ariane giggled.  "No magic, Sergius, but simple herb lore."  

Life and vitality pounded through him and around him.  Sergius got caught up in a whirlwind of sensation as the white light of the Mother Moon filled him.  The light flowed downward from his head and surrounded his heart, continuing to flood into his hands and legs and feet.  Sergius reached above him to gather the gold and silver lanterns of the stars in his hands.  "She fills me, Lady," he whispered to Ariane.    

"Now for the dance."

"The dance," he echoed, letting her take his hands.

They stood facing each other in the circle of candles.  "Press your palms to mine," she said, holding out her arms.  "Be like my looking glass, and move how I move."

Sergius nodded, the touch of her palms against his playing with his senses.  Ariane guided his arms to circle his head, like the moon.  "Become Her, Sergius.  Hold Her in your arms."  

Ariane closed her eyes, tilting her head back, and Sergius did the same.  "Sense it.  Feel the moonlight entering you from every angle, penetrating every inch of skin.  Let Her essence into you.  Know Her warmth."

"I am knowing her."  The Goddess or Ariane?  Sergius did not know whether he felt the Great Mother or his own desires for Her Druid rising in him.  Either way, the experience transported him.  "It feels like my own body, this earthly self of mine, is simply falling away."

"She blesses you!"  Ariane raised her head, smiling.  "My Sergius, you have the makings of a Druid in you, after all."  He saw the spright dancing in her eyes.  "Come!  We will dance the spiral."

Ariane clasped his hands.  She spun with him, their joined hands the center of their spiral.  Such elation flew through Sergius that he laughed aloud into the night.  The steady beat of otherworldly drums throbbed in his ears, guiding his body.  Or was it his own heartbeat?  The measure was one in the same to him now.

An endless spiral, a limitless night.  Sergius kept his eyes focused on Ariane.  She made him so light-headed that he did not get the least bit dizzy from the dance.  Always there was the chance that one of their hands would slip and they would both go reeling into the brush around them.  With every revolution, her grip tightened and her smile widened, and Sergius grew confident that nothing could loosen their hold on each other.

They slowed down and came to a gradual halt.  He met her shining eyes, bright with achievement and joy.  How could he have ever thought this woman was a homely barbarian?  This night, she had become a goddess herself.  She radiated, she glowed, she drove out a warmth to comfort every bit of him.

"That is how it is done," she whispered.

Emilie J. Conroy

ejconroy778@gmail.com