Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.
Summary: He found her on the side of the road. She found him inside her dreams. With the lines of his hand she knows their destinies have finally crossed paths.
A map says to me carefully,
follow me closely,
doubt me not...
I am the earth in the palm of your hand
— Beryl Markham
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SPIRAL DANCE - EPOV
Queen Anne's lace below her knees as the dogwoods bloomed from exploding white fireworks to mounds of green leaves. Underneath the tulip tree's pregnant branches with a buzzing soundtrack of yellow, black-striped worker bees, she waited. Her magickal name lingered upon my tongue as the clouds in the sky formed and wisped into a swirl of perfection . My pagan bride awaits her kiss. My pagan bride is who I seek to find. Our Beltane, our May Day, our wedding, my love. Forever enraptured you captured your one.
Standing beneath the shedding tree in her white, silk dress, smooth as a morning lake, Alice's brown eyes sparkled like brown sea glass. Her priestess wiped the oils upon her head speaking the words that would bind us together in spirit and skin. My atheist heart was becoming more and more like hers. Believing in the fairy tales and the fires that burned and released the wonders within. I would have married her in a courthouse, near a sandcastle, or even in my mother's backyard and yet my eclectic bride chose a meadow where I have seen her dance naked in joy of Ostara, where I have seen her chant her wishes and dreams. The very place where I bent my knee in the wet dirt and grass and asked if I could hold her forever. My pagan bride; my everything.
Between spring and summer, the pollen from the fertile flowers danced through the air lightly coating the bottom of her dress with its golden paint. Barefoot we both stood in front of the woman who would unite us. An unlikely pair of boy meets witch. A hopeful romance of Goddess and the beast. A baffling riddle of sinner and saint. Our love for each other grew like the rising of the sun and the brightness of the moon. Amazingly perfect, enchanting, and spellbound. Who would have guessed that a back road could have led me to find the missing piece of my puzzle? The key to my heat. The yin to her yang.
Deep in the heart of old churches and self-owned pharmacies. Past the cracked sidewalks and the construction on the overpass. Tucked away on a corner street buried from all the political signs of who will run for mayor there sits an off road that will wind itself up to an abandoned property full of weeping willows and a murky lake. Past the lake and into the eroded cotton field there sits a plot of land that has been kept a secret for most of my life. That is where I met her. That is where I staked my claim. From the moment I saw her to the time that I held my breath, I knew what was about to happen. She was to be mine.
She was to exist. Alice, my love, I could never have guessed.
Making my way up Route 9 where the pavement ended and the gravel began, I started to doubt Emmett's directions. My car was in dire need of a new alternator and Emmett swore that Liam was the best shade-tree mechanic this side of the Tennessee River. I had no reason to doubt him, but when your cell phone stops working and there isn't a cable line in sight, one has to wonder how much longer it will take to get to where you're trying to go.
The road twisted and turned through the mountain where the pines grew as tall as the skyscrapers I had only heard about. The skeletal maples, oaks, and acorns waved me on as a Western wind cut through this chilly December day.
Hoping that a deer wouldn't dart across, I kept my eyes peeled to both sides of a lined-wire fence that had probably seen better days. I wasn't expecting to find the end of the rainbow so quickly. I didn't even know there was a chance of mist. But there she sat on the side of the road with the back end of her rusted out VW Beetle smoking like an addict. Pulling up next to what once looked as though it was pale blue the driver (or who I assumed had to be connected somehow to the vehicle) didn't move a muscle. She didn't even flinch. She was dressed in a purple coat that draped her like a waterfall, but it was hard to tell with her sitting on the ground. A light pink hat hid the color of her hair that I was expecting to be lighter than it really was and when she opened her eyes at last, two brown stones shined back like sparkling wet geodes.
The girl looked up and smiled. "Well, I was starting to get worried." She held her hand out as though she wanted me to take hold and help her to her feet. "I thought you'd be here sooner." She said in a playful voice as I took hold of small hand and pulled. "Bet you didn't expect to find me way out here, all alone, did ya?" I was starting to get more and more confused as she spoke as if she knew me.
"Do I know you?" I asked as I tried to recall her face, her scent, her eyes, her ... she just kept staring at me with those deep, brown eyes. Her hand was still in mine creating a sensation so intense it was like touching the sides of a wood burning stove. It spread though my palm and out of nervousness I had to let go.
Shaking her hand as though she had just held on to something far too long and was trying to get the feeling back, she smiled and spoke words that was more like singing than speaking. "Not yet, but I was sure sooner or later I would be bound to meet someone who would be willing to drive me into town so I could call a wrecker out here to come get my car."
Reaching into my inner coat pocket as though it was instinct I fingered my phone but left it hidden remembering that getting service out here was about as likely as seeing snow on Christmas day.
"I'm actually headed over to a mechanic's myself if you want to tag along. I'm sure he would have a phone you can use that will work and can get you on your way in no time."
"Aren't I the lucky one?" Alice smiled then threw her name at me for the first time. In a rush of emotion my cheeks grew hot as though this was the first time I had ever spoken to a girl and threw mine back to her in a stuttered cough.
Alice wasn't your ordinary run of the mill kind of girl. Beneath the purple coat that was unbuttoned, unzipped, and halfway off her shoulders she wore a brightly colored skirt that hung down to her ankles. The blouse above looked like something out of the day and age of Robin Hood. And on her feet there wasn't a stitch of leather, rubber, plastic, or linen covering them. She was as barefoot as a newborn but she walked across the gravel as though it was sand.
We drove ten more miles through the hills in comfortable silence. Alice rolled down her window and let the chill of the air mingle with the blast of heated breath. Liam's place was a rundown little single wide and the garage that Emmett was so keen on boasting about was nothing more than a homemade carport with an aluminum-siding roof. Parking the car beside a row of cars that had sat there for so long weeds were growing out of the hoods, I started to wonder if this was the end of my journey with Alice; It seemed as though the journey had just begun.
Approaching us with a dirty rag, Liam pulled at his greasy fingers that would never get clean without the aid of kerosene. Tossing the rag over his shoulder Liam extended a hand in my direction. Clasping his hand, his calloused palm left their mark on mine.
Arrangements were made to pick up Alice's blue bug with a buddy that traded business with him. The alternator on my vehicle was changed within an hour and when the time came I was as thankful as a newly-hatched turkey the day after Thanksgiving that she had asked for a ride into town, not wanting to phone a friend.
Guided through the trees by Alice's voice, I steered the car down the mountain. She had been here before. She knew the way like the back of her hand. She knew I would follow if she just told me where to go. Before I was able to put two and two together I was being instructed to pull over on the side of the road not but a mile or two from where I had found her. Before I was able to turn off the ignition the passenger door was quietly clicking shut. I didn't know if I should stay or follow. She led... I followed.
Meeting Alice's small steps and looking out over an uncommon patch of flat land I watched in amazement as my little companion threw off her purple coat and spun her body in circles. Around and around with her skirt lifting up swirling like the insides of a kaleidoscope, her feet crunched into the grass that had already lived its life for the season.
"What are you doing?" I asked as I felt her energy race though me once more but this time without the touch of her skin.
In mid-spin her face glowed like that of a wick in an oil lantern and said in between hearty laughs, "Welcoming Yule, silly."
My game plan was simple: find out where Alice lives, get her phone number, then possibly ask if she'd like to go to the movies in the next county over after the Christmas holidays. That's not exactly what Alice had in mind. She led me to a building on the far east side of town. It was a place I had driven by a couple of times. Hidden behind a black rod-iron gate and a heap load of bushes stood a plantation house that had a rather odd wooden sign hanging over the porch. In hand-painted gold letters on a red background it read Luna's Brew. I always assumed this was my town's attempt at a Starbucks. I found out quickly that looks can be deceiving.
There weren't any beatniks but there was a drum circle. The space was covered from head to toe with bookcases. Each one stuffed to the gills with a variety of reading material but when I approached the first case I was quite sure they were the kind of topics a modern day coffee house supplied. These books ranged from gemstones to deities to sabbats to herbs. There was even a section devoted soley to Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings.
The walls were covered in detailed murals of dragons and women with smooth faces adorning brightly colored crowns of flowers atop their heads. Little imps and fairies figurines hung from very small glass trees and in the far corner there stood a mighty statue of a man with antlers coming out of his head like a deer.
Alice shrugged off her coat while I took the room in. The people in the establishment were very cheerful and yet very odd. Some wore tattoos like they were freckles. Others had discs so large in their ears I probably could have seen my reflection. And others... the older ones in the bunch, all wore their laugh lines with pride, not trying to cover them up with unnecessary amounts of makeup like my mother would do. They almost seemed proud of what they had to show.
"Willow!" a voice rang out through the crowd and before I knew it I was watching an embrace between her and a rather tall, dark-skinned woman. Her name was Zafrina and when introductions were made instead of shaking my hand she stoked my palm and whispered in Alice's ear. Closing my hand and guiding it to my chest Zafrina's kissed the side of my cheek then vanished into the crowd that was making their way towards the hearth.
"What was that about?" I asked Alice but instead of an answer she took my hand and led me to a room full of old leather couches and a coffee table so thick an elephant probably could have stood on it and it never would have splintered.
A memory spilled from her lips the moment the backs of our thighs touched the cushion.
Alice had been victim to a near fatal car wreck that left her in critical condition for what seemed to her like eternity, but what in reality was only two days. She had visions of a hand reaching out to save her, pulling her out of the twisted metal carnage, shattered glass, and smoking blacktop. She had VISIONS of a head line meeting a heart intersected by life. Her words made no sense to me. It was almost as though she was speaking in tongues until she reached for my palm and flipped it up towards the heavens. Running her finger across my hand he spoke the words, "head, heart, life," as she traced each individual crease on my palm, two of which were nearly the same line.
"I've been waiting for you, Edward. I knew one day you'd find me."
At that moment, she tasted my lips and not to my surprise I tasted hers back. The mint tea leaves in her mouth gave new meaning to brisk. Reaching her hands up she pulled at the open edges of my jacket where the metal teeth of the open zipper ran. Bending down to oblige her, her lips curled into a grin. Backing away her eyelashes brushed her cheekbones then with a faint whisper she echoed, "What took you so long?"
"I guess you weren't ready to be found," I breathed looking down into those wet geodes. I was betting on everything I had that if I stared long enough into the depths of her eyes the future would be told. If I listened hard enough to our shallow breaths her thoughts would whisper what she wanted. If I stayed right where I was and never budged an inch within a few blinks of time I would be able to experience perfection. I didn't want to move a muscle.
As the sun faded into night I found myself looking through the lace curtains that covered a set of French doors overlooking a tiny courtyard. The mild winter we had was just cold enough to turn your nose pink and secretly I watched Alice dance for the second time that night. My foot tapped in time to the beat of the drum circle that had moved outdoors. I felt the energy move between us once more like a shadowed ghost.
As winter took its toll on the land around us the relationship between Alice and I bloomed like the first yellow daffodil marking the end of one season and the beginning of life.
The night before Imbolic, while the folks near the groundhog were sound asleep, we cleansed my house with a broom that Alice had brought over for such the occasion and we made dolls out of wheat that she hung on the front of my door. She called it a corn bride and on the very next morning out in the field she first danced in with her kaleidoscope dress I asked if she would be mine.
Our differences in background with religion, and lack thereof, was never a factor. Whenever I worried that we were too different she would gently take my hand and retrace over and over the lines that in her mind had brought us together. The way she spoke made me believe we were meant for one another before we had ever known the color of each other's eyes. She was my destiny and I was her expected. Together we were meant to be.
In March, as the geese started their great journey home, Alice invited her coven to what was now our home to paint the eggs for Ostara. Returning to the meadow her coven shedded their clothes and while I watched from the car they welcomed the mother into their hearts. The world outside was blooming with color while the world inside my barren soul was starting to sprout buds.
The following month was full of light rain. With every chance she could get Alice would race me outdoors to bathe my skin in nature's cleansing. Once soaked to the bone with the green of the land practically glowing neon she would wrap her arms around my neck and whisper how she couldn't wait for our handfasting.
The night before our wedding vows we slept in separate locations. It was the only tradition I was willing to follow that my Baptist parents instilled in me. The first day of May marked not only the union of the Goddess and God but it also marked the day I officially made Alice mine. We jumped the broom, were blessed with wine, and on that day just for her I stood in the field after our guests had left. Stripping out of my clothes in the early twilight, I called the corners with my bride by my side, and chose my magickal name. The wind carried it in whispers out towards the Gulf of Mexico and forever after from that moment on I was held tight with brand new beginnings and my pagan wife.
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We dance for laughter, we dance for tears,
we dance for madness, we dance for fears,
we dance for hopes, we dance for screams,
we are the dancers, we create the dreams.
— Albert Einstein
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SPIRAL DANCE - APOV
I didn't see the black ice coming. I only saw his hand. A memory consumed me every day in an almost invisible veil. The lines on his palm were etched in my mind as they pulled me from the twisted metal that was once my car. His face was in the shadows. His voice was silent, even though I was sure he could speak. As he set me on the chilled winter's ground his energy stroked my skin:head, heart, life.
I don't remember much of what happened. The morning light was just starting to peak through the trees as I hastily raced to work. I had slept past the alarm and was supposed to relieve Victoria at the gas station ten minutes before I had left. The air was clean and new as I chipped the ice from the windshield; It erased any traces of yesterday.
I awoke in a hospital gown, hooked through tubes connected to machines. The inside of my head felt like Chernobyl while my outside was painted by a dark angry artist. My fist was formed into a punch I would never throw. Loosening my fingers I found a pyrite crystal sitting in the palm of my hand. How long had that been there? It had to have been there long enough to leave a temporary reminder of stiffness and indention.
The room was darkened with traces of artificial light spilling out from a cracked door. Where was I? The clock on the wall gave me no indication of time. I could hear its ticking like heartbeats but was unable to read its numbered face.
Kicking the white sheet off my body, my face twisted in pain. My legs were caged in metal, not from my car but purposely put there in order to keep my body from falling apart. Dark stitches ran down the length from my leg from kneecap to my ankle. Each stitch was like an ant marching: one right after the other. A sob broke loose out of my chest as a thump nearby sounded. My eyes scrunched tightly in disbelief as the pain shot to my brain, two dark arms encircled my frame as I shook the images of glass and steel cutting through my flesh. Zafrina stifled my cries with a gentle caress, but where was the man who rescued me? The man with the palm I could pick out of a crowd? I owed him my life.
"Willow," my priestess whispered beside my ear as I touched the the cold metal that was pierced into my skin. "You were in an accident, child. Do you remember anything?" I could only remember his lines.
A simian line is when the heart and the hand line of one's palm braid together. A heart line controls your emotions while your head line is in charge of logic. The hand in my dreams wasn't a pure simian because the head line curled down the slightest bit, but when the palm was bent one line creased across from the pinky to thumb.
In the hospital I was told that my body was recovering from a near fatality from my car rolling when the black ice on the road threw me into a ditch. While I healed, I became obsessed with reading a palm from a man I had only met in a vision. Zafrina was convinced that my hero was out there waiting for me. All he had to do was find me.
As my leg healed and my lacerations turned into scars, my life little by little returned to normal. Zafrina moved me into her house for two months after my release from the hospital where she spoiled me like a first-born child. On nights when the moon was full and the members of our coven joined us in ritual, I would see the hand that saved my life during meditations. Always in a shadow hidden in the dark, but he was out there. I could feel it so strongly that if it were any more intense I would glow in the blackness of night.
I waited two years. And as it was seen through tea leaves, tarot, and runes... he came.
My destiny was written in the lines.
Where I come from there are two places that you can live: in town or out of town. I lived in the latter. I lived out on route 9 past where the blacktop turned to gravel. I lived where the cable lines ceased to exist and the cell phone towers were about as nonexistent as alcohol on Sunday. The road twirled around acres of trees, a favored fishing hole, and my coven's sacred space. I was headed home before ritual on the day of the winter solstice when destiny decided it was time to become the expectant.
"Don't you die on me, Bonnie." I tried sweet talking the old girl. "You'll leave me stranded out on the road without a soul in sight." Bonnie wasn't in the mood to listen. Her temperature gauge was nearly halfway through the letter H and smoke was barreling out the back end like a chimney. Bonnie was being a hotheaded little brat and just to spite me she acted like a drama queen as she choked to a stall. I sat in the driver's seat clutching the steering wheel shooting daggers at my '72 VW Beetle.
Everything happens for a reason, right?
Calling for help was going to be a problem. I don't own a cell phone. I don't even own a tv set. When life gives you lemons... well you know how that saying goes.
I left my Scott Cunningham book in the car, wanting to clear my head in the crisp December air. The gravel shifted under my toes like loose change. The wind lightly smoothed my skirt with its breath. Nature was singing her song, asking for an audience. The least I could do was listen and open my mind to the consciousness as my heartbeat set the rhythm of the tune. His silhouette came to me in the darkness. Behind my closed eyes a faded shadow with antlers atop his head. The hunter nearby was looking for his bride. A song that would end in a tear. Glistening love streaked down my face. A damp promise laced without fear.
My body was as warm as August. When I opened my eyes to the world, I saw him. Adjusting my vision to the light of the day the bare trees masqueraded as a pair of antlers.
He was stunning. The warm air coming out of his mouth was as powerful as a mighty stallion. I couldn't help but smile. It seemed as though I had waited forever. I was starting to think he forgot.
"Well, I was getting worried," I said to the man who had no name. The energy around him was brilliant, full of yellow and orange. The colors shimmered around his body like tinfoil. He reached down his hand as I lifted mine towards the sky and when he took hold his simian line stood out like a row of hooks. He found me.
I couldn't believe my stars, "Bet you didn't expect to find me way out here, all alone did you?" I was as giddy as a teenager's first crush. He finally found me! His hair was the color of a tiger's eye while his irises beautifully resembled jade. I spoke as though we weren't strangers, My knight studied me through the eyes of an intellect. His movements were intentional, his voice was soft spoken. He reminded me of a mustang.
Our conversation about parked cars and spare parts led to me walking towards a car that didn't belong out on a dirt road. My eyes never left the jade in his and when the timing was right I gave him the name he'd be most comfortable with holding.
"I'm Alice," I felt he should of already knew. The blush in his face made me want to explore. He fidgeted with his flannel jacket's zipper. "Do you have a name or should I give you one from my dreams?" Letting the zipper fall out of his fingers and stifling a cough he broke out, "Edward."
Edward, a name that meant guardian; Alice, a Celtic name for a queen. Even our names were meant for one another. If magick wasn't playing a part in this, then the gods surely had me fooled.
We left Bonnie on the side of the road. I soon was losing track of time. The sun set early on the darkest day of the year as it peaked through the grey sky on our way to a mechanic who Edward thought would be my savior. I saw the excitement in his face when I declined the easy way out and asked for a ride into town from the man who found me first. He tried his best to mask his emotions, but his eyes gave him away when they shined like wet leaves. A ride home would have to be asked for later and if I was lucky maybe I wouldn't be the one asking.
Yule is the day we celebrate the rebirth of the God. As the darkness of the shortest day escapes into the year the Goddess will rest while the God gathers strength and power for the days ahead. I felt overcome with the Yuletide spirit as Edward drove us towards town. The mighty trees guided us like a covered bridge. Their limbs cradling us amongst the road's twists and turns. The pinning of the gravel into the car's metallic paint made the stress level in the car change color.
"Edward," my voice was softer than midnight rain. "Pull over." It was more of a thought than a sound, but he heard every word that I said; I didn't wait. Before the motor slowed to a halt my bare feet were crunching in the yellowed grass of winter. Wild alfalfa grew in patches as the wind greeted me with a shout. The ground was flat, sturdy, and sacred. I've been here several times before. Today the land slept heavily waiting for the Goddess to awake and plant her kiss into the soil. Tonight I needed to tell Edward of our past.
The energy radiating off Edward was exhilarating. It made me feel alive.
I twirled; I spun; I laughed as my skirt lifted like a pinwheel. The beauty of the season overpowered me. I wanted to chant, laugh, and sing:
Horned One, Lover, SonLeaper in the cornDeep in the MotherDie and be reborn
"What are you doing?" Edward stood four spins away. More curious than panicked his mind wasn't as comfortable as his body.
Light-heartedly I gave him a deep chuckle. I couldn't have wiped the smile off my face if I had wanted to. The trees in the distance painted a picture inside my mind so crisp and so clear that I could have drawn it blindfolded.
~The farmer takes a wife~
I laughed. My voice came out as loud as church bells on a Sunday morning.
"I'm welcoming Yule, silly."
~I'm welcoming you~
Luna's Brew was overflowing with people. Everyone was excited for the lighting of the Yule log. The insides of the walls buzzed with anticipation. On the outside I took Edward's hand and guided him in. Too timid to ask questions, too one-sided to believe. I knew before the words were formed and spoken aloud. It didn't matter to me. There were times when I lost faith in everything around me. I had now found the hand who always pulled me from my dark days. I was patient enough to wait.
Through the door we were greeted with a heavy aroma of evergreen and spice. High above the hearth a magnificent wreath hung in the center. Candles of red, green, silver, and gold flickered in corners near friends getting reacquainted through laughter and cheer.
Back tables were set up with tonight's potluck. My fried apples sat at home on the counter.
Shedding my coat and hat, Zafrina greeted me with a name that Edward was unfamiliar with.
"Willow!" she called as she crossed the room and took me into her arms. She held me near her heart until both our bodies hummed like a radiator. I gave her a smile as bright as the moon.
"Zafrina, I'd like you to meet the man who saved me on the side of the road."
Zafrina stared deep into his eyes. "And does your champion have a name?"
Edward offered a handshake along with his name. My priestess took hold of his hand but flipped his palm over showing the line from my dream. She lazily stroked her fingertips over the crease then whispered, "You found him," so softly in my ear that it sounded like a warm breeze. Closing his hand, she returned it to his chest and lightly kissed his cheek.
~She knew you were real and not just a dream~
"What was that all about?" Edward asked as the lighting of the Yule log was about to take place.
I didn't speak a word. Taking the hand that marked him, I led him into the back room that was set aside for group meditations. Around the oak coffee table that Zafrina got many years back when she journeyed to Ireland, we settled ourselves into the heavy aroma of leather and release.
I started. I painted him a picture of a car crash. I wrote him a journal full of fears. I composed a sonnet of understanding. I quilted mystery, madness, and magick. I spoke the truth.
My fingers glided over his heart line, sweeping past his head and down his life. I whispered the three in time with his pulse.
"I've been waiting for you, Edward. I knew one day you'd find me."
I didn't wait for a response. I didn't ask for permission. I did what came natural.
Cinnamon coated lips met mine in an unrehearsed tangled kiss. His breath was a memory I had longed to taste. His teeth were like wet pearls. Two long years I had waited. It felt like forever. I already knew without him I would cease to exist.
Edward's musk filled my lungs. "What took you so long?" The rhythm of our labored breaths started a stanza of words I struggled to hear. Looming over me, he smiled. My heart skipped a beat and before I could close my eyes to soak in the energy our bodies had pulled from each other, he spoke. Looking directly into the bottoms of my eyes, the corners of his mouth curled. "I guess you weren't ready to be found."
~I never want to let you go~
The sun set in the west. The warmth of our circle rose over head. Through our casted haze I watched Edward peaking though the curtains. Our energy pulsated as the drummers set the speed. I could hear what he was thinking. I could see everything he saw. I knew the future before us: dogwoods, magnolias, and tulips. I saw myself wrapped inside of his arms.
In my twenty-five years of existence I have never felt so strongly about someone. The touch of his hands, the taste of his skin, the look in his eyes when our legs were entwined all gave me an inner peace that I had never achieved without him. My godless man was learning my ways as my heart memorized his palm's every line.
His protective square over his life line told me he was destined to guard and protect. His smooth fingers told me his trust. The deep life line didn't hide his happiness. Unable to read for another ten years, I made up stories of what his destiny line might say.
Felix made Edward's broom out of ash, birch, and willow. It was blessed in his backyard on a tree stump I used as an alter. Sweeping the negative energy away for Imbolic, the anxieties of Edward's discomfort started to fade.
With a guided hand our corn bride was fashioned and hung on Edward's front door. She was there to remind us that soon the dark months would end once the Goddess awoke from her sleep.
I awoke during the breaking of dawn with Edward's soft lips on my neck, his whispers still dancing in my dreams.
"Get dressed," he hushed as my warm skin protested as his body broke away.
Leaning over the bed with his hand on the back of my neck he brushed his nose into my hair. "Come on, my little witch. I want to see you dance."
We could still see our breaths as the pale light washed over our bodies. I welcomed the awakening of the Goddess with my arms out and palms up. I welcomed the God in his splendid youth with my arms crossed at my chest. As the energy built I spun. It didn't matter that my circle would break. It never crossed my mind that this could be fate.
Around and around I twirled till Edward coaxed me to a stop. His lean body was pressed against mine. His warm breath mixed in with his kisses. Wrapped inside his arms I felt his protection. In a heartbeat, a bird's chirp, a light breeze - he went down on one knee and offered me bliss.
Edward's home became ours as my coven became his new family. The weekend before Ostara with my pagan brothers and sisters arranged on the deck, we dyed eggs from red wine, cranberries, chamomile, and anything else we could find in the cabinets. These were our cherished symbols of fertility for the welcoming color of flowers and trees.
I danced naked on Ostara. I bathed the sun into my skin. The greening grass beneath my feet was becoming more plush with the rise and fall of the moon. The whippets of air ruffled my hair and off in the distance, hidden behind the trees, sitting in the car he waited.. loving me for me.
As the garden spider devoted herself to the weaving of her web, April showers of the land brought the world to life. The pitter patter drenched my skin until we came clean.
Edward's hair turned black as waterfalls slid down his face, our wet shirts clung like ivy to a tree. Just three more days and counting. With my slick arms around his warm neck, "I can't wait till our handfasting." I whispered more into his ear. I told him secrets about myself I swore I'd never share. Edward's simian crease stroked my face. His thumbs brushed away my tears.
Time stood still when Beltane was upon us. The cardinals sang their songs. The softness of the grass cushioned my feet. White stands for purity. Black stands for the great divine. Anointed in oils for our binding. Promises made until the end of time.
"Are you ready?' Edward held my hand in his.
"Always" I spoke the truth.
In one hop we jumped the broom, sweeping away our separate lives. On the other side, our hands combined, standing in front of the world as man and wife.
As the sun hung low in the cherry blossom sky our guests departed one by one. Soon, Mother Moon will wash our skin with her light. I felt as guarded as passion, as cherished as a gentle touch, as sacred as my unborn children; my cup was overflowing with stardust.
With my husband by my side I felt full of life. I watched the Sun God head for his bed and listened as the crickets awoke in song. Beside me Edward's suit fell little by little, piece by piece, ever so slowly to the ground.
"Come," he held out his hand. My palm slid into place along his marked skin. I was guided to the spot where we wed. The energy radiating off Edward was blazing bright as a flame.
"Willow," his voice was as tender as a newborn's cry. "I want to spend my next life and every one that follows with you by my side."
Edward had never used my ritual name before now. It danced off his tongue and twirled in my ears. The naked planes of his body showed signs of strength and youth. The depths of his eyes sparkled like a jade victory. His unkempt hair stuck out like that of an unruly animal that could never be tamed. There was something new, almost primal, about the man that I met on this side of the broom.
Facing north, away from the setting sun, I shivered. Edward pressed his warm lips against my neck and softly murmured a sound of content.
"Willow," he whispered again my ritual name.
Edward started constructing a circle. Calling the elements as we walked hand in hand deosil, building the warm energy up around us. I was speechless. The man who was marked only for me was wanting to walk with the Goddess and God.
As the moon broke the horizon, Edward chose his magickal name.
Eochaid
It suited him well. The ancient Gaelic name for horse. A strong yet sensitive beast. A totem of strength and protection. A spirit guide of intuition who calls to be free.
On Beltane we celebrate the God planting his seed in the fertile womb of the Goddess as the grey winter world explodes with new life. I am honored to call myself daughter. I am proud to call myself wife.
~Namaste~
A/N: I would like to give special thanks to my beta Arden8283. She was a huge help with everything! I don't think Spiral Dance would have been as put together if it had not been for her holding my hand, catching ferrets, and helping me out with words that wouldn't come out right.
I would like to give a shout-out to my Pre-reader, sjAimee. Thank you so much for your time, thoughts, and looking at your daughter's homework! Loves you for it!
To the both of you: Thank you for all your hard work, time, effort, guidance, patience, and support. It meant so much to me.
Also, I'd like to let you all in on a little secret. My son and I both have a Simian Crease on our left hand. This is where my inspiration started.
My Sources and Meaning:
When the Heart Line and Head Line are fused together, only one major line is present, and it extends all the way across the hand from edge to edge. This is called a "Simian Line", or "Simian Crease". Medical references call it the "proximal transverse palmar crease" or "single palmar crease".
Not a pure simian line but rather a strong head line that has captured the heart line. This person will operate with nearly all head energy and will have very little emotional power for making decisions and taking actions. Logic, with little emotion, will strongly rule every activity. - Edward's line
Cinnamon - Spirituality, healing, and protection (Kitchen Witch's Guide to Divination - Patricia Telesco) - Edward's taste
Deosil - means clockwise
Horned One Chant - I have no idea who wrote that. It's like trying to figure out who wrote Mary had a Little Lamb w w w(DOT)thedcw(DOT)org/Ariel/Craft%20Music/9225601D-52D8-4265-A56E-E710E0E44752(DOT)html - audio of Horned One Chant
Courage, Confidence- Musk, Spice - Edward's scent
Willow tree meanings includes magic, healing, inner vision and dreams. - Alice's magickal name
The father-god Teutates often appears in art as a bearded horse, and one of the names of Im Dagda, "Eochaid," means horse or horse-father. - Edward's magickal name
Throughout the ages, humans have successfully integrated with horses and interacted in a harmonious manner. Anyone who has spent time around horses knows that individual horses are unique in personality. Horses are dependable, trustworthy, thrive with mutual respect, and bring a special brand of joy and beauty to anyone who befriends them. - Horses
Orange-Yellow: Creative, intelligent, detail oriented, perfectionist, scientific. - Edward's aura
Pyrite helps to treat bones and stimulates cell formation. Pyrite consolidates energy, creating a foundation for intention and grounding - Crystals
Most destiny lines cannot be completely read until the age of 35 - Palm Reading for Beginners - Richard Webster
All books that I researched out of include:
Palm Reading for Beginners - Richard Webster
Kitchen Witch's Guide to Divination - Patricia Telesco
The Magical Household - Seth Cunningham and David Harrington
Wicca - A Guide for the Solitary Practicioner – Seth Cunningham
Living Wicca - A Further Guide for the Solitary Practioner - Seth Cunningham
Wheel of the Year – Living the Magical Life – Pauline Campanelli