She changes first, before brushing and tying her curls back from her face, her long white nightgown floating around her ankles as she hurries towards the bed. They were more comfortable than they looked she found out as she settles the blankets around her. Ken was checking over the door he just came through and extinguishing the lamps before he made his way over to the bedroom,
He stops in a doorway, watching her in the candlelight. Her white nightgown, sheer and lace, one that had been packed away since Toronto, she blushes, deep as a rose looking away from his gaze.
"Rilla-My-Rilla," he breathes out a whisper.
Can he see the tremble beneath her skin? It felt like she was radiating it across the room.
He comes over to the futon, in front of her, caressing the side of her heart-shaped face. Lingering enough that she nuzzles into it.
"Kenneth, please," She whispers her plea as her white little hands pull at the ties of his jacket boldly untying them.
"You're trembling again" he whispers back, leaning back from her. Was afraid he was frightening her?
"Only because of the chill," she tries to tell him a white lie. Telling him she was nervous would do no good at this point. It would do no good to try and explain that she wasn't afraid of him, not really but the abstract details that she had been given had been weighing on her mind making her anxiety over the whole ordeal worse than their initial wedding night.
He kisses her soundly, letting her bold little hands explore the inside the jacket a wide belt was wrapped low on his waist. Underneath his robe, she knows by now there are scars from the war, everything from shrapnel scars, to a surface wound on his side. She can feel them before she even sees them, and that night in Toronto. War wasn't kind, and she could only imagine what her brothers might have gone through or received from it. He pulls up closer to him, her legs falling on either side of his thighs, the cotton of her nightgown bunched and billowed around them. Her breath hitches, loud enough to an audible gasp. He holds her steady, with one hand gripping lightly the curve of her hip so dangerously close to the swell of her rear.
She bravely pushes the outer jacket of his costume, hands trembling more with each passing second.
"You are cold," he mutters to himself as if he is a simpleton. "Lay back and get under the covers he instructs her. In a way, it sounds childish, as if he is scolding her like a parent, but at moment she is away from him. He reaches for the knot of his built before stopping.
"I will be naked once this is off," he warns her. As if he is giving her another chance to change her mind.
"That's okay," her voice is meek, meeker than she intended as he frowns for a moment. Instead, she raised her hands to the ribbons that keep her nightgown closed in the front, pulling them until they are loose and the creamy light flesh and shadows of her breasts were in view. In certain lights, you could see the rosy hue of her nipples through to lace that made up the top.
"Lord above," Ken mutters to himself as he shrugs off his navy blue geometric patterned robe.
His body is all angles and shadows, a trail of dark hair from his chest that tapers downwards. She bashfully looks away as he climbs into bed next to her, she wasn't naive. She raised a little boy, after all, the male reproductive organ was not a mystery to her, or she thought it wasn't until this moment when she realized that clearly, they changed at some point in their life.
She looks at him shyly, she could also feel the heat radiating off of him as he leaned over her.
Another kiss, another nibble of her lip until she allowed him to kiss her in a way she didn't know about well into their engagement. She's always timid at first, but gradually bolder as he coaxes her school girl ways out of her mind.
His hands warm on her waist, it's like Charlottetown or Toronto all over again, but this time she isn't yawning or shaking uncontrollably. She's trembling but it's not like before, she whines lightly as he breaks the kiss, but decides she enjoys the peppering kisses that go down her neck and collar bone. He takes his time, slowly moving over the inches of her body, pushing the nightgown here and there when needed but still allowing her that security that kept her covered.
She wants more but doesn't know exactly what more is. Not until she feels him trail his hand up her thigh, under her nightgown. To the place that had always been private, yet she doesn't stop him, despite the blush to burns brightly on her face. She didn't want to know how and where he learned these things, but she was delirious from his attention.
She felt wanton moaning as she did—so when she did she tried to muffle her sounds by smothering her turned head into the pillow.
"Don't hide it," he whispered huskily in her ear. When did he settle between her legs, with her nightgown bunched up around her hips? She felt naked and on fire, and then he kissed her, moving himself and her in the process. His body resting against her, stiff and at attention and possibly larger than before. Could it grow? She never got to those books on childrearing about young boys turning into young men, just the parts about young boys needing guidance about proper moral etiquette whatever that meant.
It was more uncomfortable than she expected, though her mother warned her of such things of course. It shouldn't hurt, but it could be uncomfortable those first few times. It was bearable pressure that seemed more and more intense the further he pressed forward. She bit into her lip, trying to transfer the burn from the unaccustomed invasion. Part of her brain told her to relax and maybe the sensation would lessen.
"Look at me Rilla-my-Rilla," Ken whispers and she does catch his stormy grey gaze with her hazel eyes. He leans down to kiss her. Kissing her until her body relaxes once more, and it catches her by surprise when she feels him move on top of her. She braces for another round of discomfort, and while that feeling, that pressure was still there. It was smoother and sent a wave of tingles through her body.
When it was all said and done, she is bewildered even more at the feeling of contentment that runs through her veins. Ken is barely moving,while breathing heavily beside her, as he ran half a mile or more for something.
She adjusts her nightgown, covering her chest as her modesty begins to take over as she tries to ignore the slick feeling that was down between her legs. It was Ken he gets up first, still naked as the day he was born. He brings her back a warm wet cloth, promptly turning to their trunk to give her a moment of privacy as he pulls on his pair of sleep pants.
She cleans herself up, folding the cloth delicately and placing it in the bowl he offers to take it back to the washstand for her.
Her mind is wheeling with all the unknown and things her mother and old ladies had joked about in corners.
Ken's arms engulf her as he returns to their bed.
"Do you think there'll be a baby?" Rilla says out loud her hand running over her stomach. Of course, she knew how babies were made, her father was a doctor. It was more a question of romantic nature, thinking about any children they could have in this marriage.
"You don't believe in doing things by half do you?" Ken chuckles with a yawn. Children indeed were to be the first thing on her mind after such an event for them and their marriage.
"Says the man who openly admits he fell in love with me while holding a child," Rilla pokes at him back.
"You were like Madonna that night," Ken agree kissing her neck. "Though to answer your question, there is potential in a child as there always is in such instances. How many would you like?"
"Only a few if it's possible?" Rilla says thinking about it. "Jim's was a good baby, but they are a lot of work. Mom had Susan of course to help her when Father was away at night, but we don't plan on having help?"
"We can get help if needed, we can also have as many you would like, though four might be nice?" Ken says with another yawn.
"Four sounds wonderful," Rilla says quietly. "I guess we won't know for another little while?"What did the book and her mother say about cycles and timing if they did want to try and put it off for a little while?
"Well, there is a saying that practice does make perfect?" Kens teasing her. "For another day, of course, I didn't hurt you too much did I?"
"No, no, you didn't hurt me," Rilla shook her head still blushing. "It was…it was nicer than what the whispers of older ladies say about it?" She hears him hum in thought and kiss the back of her neck, his breath evening out slowly.
"I'm glad, and I'm glad that you were comfortable," he says after a long pause.
They fall asleep wrapped up in each other, she feels him leave the bed in the early hours, kissing her forehead and covering her up to ward off the chill. She opens her eyes slightly, watching him through her flash. The strong muscles of his legs, and she blushes at the defined cheeks of his buttocks, reminding just her she touched them a few hours before as she tried to pull him closer as something came over her, that she needed to touch—feel him in ways she never thought she needed to before.
"Wake up sleepy head," she hears his voice, amused and when she opens her eyes he is grinning down at her. "Breakfast is ready for us a in few minutes in the dining room."
Rilla finds herself nodding. She waves him off, finding herself shy as she reaches for her robe. He leaves her with a kiss, and when she walks to the wash area, there is a pitcher of hot water. What shocks her is the white rag still in the basin, that has a small streak of pink on it.
'It may be uncomfortable, you may even bleed without realizing it,' She remembers her mother telling her. 'Ken's a good man though, he won't hurt you on purpose.'
Rilla blushes and grabs the soap and tosses the rag into the bucket. She washes her face and wipes over her body, navigating moving her nightgown around.
She finds the robe from yesterday and tries to mimic whatever the maid did with the belt, she manages to secure it and keep it closed, but it's not as pretty. She looks down at the bedding, suddenly worried that she ruined the white cotton of the sheets but thankfully found no evidence of her official wedding night.
She takes Ken's arm and they walk down to the small dining area. She eats delicately, even though she misses the breakfast that she was accustomed to having. Afterwards, he helps her stand once more, and they go out for the first time in the daytime.
She sees the resort in a new light, or maybe it was her case of nerves that had vanished. Now that she wasn't waiting, anticipating what her mother spoke about. Love with her husband, something profound that made her blush. Making love, she didn't quite understand those whispered words she caught here and there by the older married women at Sunday picnics or bridal showers that seemed to be every other weekend for the past year. Even her own.
She's still shy of course, when Ken brings her to the private spring he reserved for them. A quick explanation to wash before entering the pool and to pin up her hair.
He goes to the other side of the room, giving her privacy. She does what he says, disrobing and using the soap and the small shower to wash off. She wraps herself in a towel, finding Ken already disappeared into the open-air portion of the hot spring.
She motions for him to turn around as he sits in the water before she dropped the towel and allowed herself to step into the pool of milky sulphuric water. She makes sure she is covered appropriately before she allows him to turn around. He doesn't complain just grins at her and beckons for her to come near him.
She was thankful that the water is deep enough to cover her chest, but every so often with movement, the water would rush around her before running off like the tide, letting him small glimpses of the rose-hued peaks he paid close attention to last night.
The water warmed her body, taking the edge off of the dull ache that was present when she awoke. The steam swirled around them
Upon their return to their room, new robes are waiting for her, dark green with reds and golds. She pins her hair pinned into more of a style as she dips her finger into her pot of tinted lip balm and she smiled to herself. They walked through the compound of buildings and through the trails, she could see the appeal of this foreign place, beauty beyond measure it seemed. Over the days that passed, she finds herself taking photos and writing out postcards to her family to send off when they venture into the nearest city on the way back down.
While the evenings were spent in the baths or lounging around reading until one of them gave up on subtleties and made their thoughts known.
Three weeks in a secluded paradise, three weeks of hearing the word 'shinkon' with a knowing voice when she visits the lady's bath in the afternoon before she decides to ask Ken what it meant.
"Newlywed I believe?" He says brow furrowing. "Why do you ask?"
"The ladies, sometimes the maids say it around me with a giggle, or just in this tone that says 'I know what you are up to?'" Rilla explains to him.
"Ahh, they mean no harm then, they just think you are happy most likely," Ken tells her simply.
Rilla found herself rather sadden as she watched the place disappear from her view the morning they left. She blushed at the memories, wondering if she could ever tell another soul about her time in a Japanese Ryokan and onsen. Could she ever talk about it to her mother? Most likely not, given one night in the private bath on the edge of the pool they had made love out in the open air, hand over her mouth to muffle her sounds.
They travelled south once more, after a stop in a small city. For two days, picking up essentials and the post was mailed out, and a telegram that they were heading south to Kyoto by train to his family who would send it to hers in return.
The city was much more lively and fascinated her in a way she hadn't imagined. Or maybe her mind was free to enjoy her surrounding now that it was occupied. There were tea rooms in the afternoon, shaved ice with sweet syrups and condensed milk despite it being mid-October While more than once on an evening stroll she caught sight of a Maiko a young Geisha done up in her make-up and kimono. The onsen had been beautiful, romantic and everything one might think for a honeymoon, but the city was something new as well for her. She noticed more than men and children wore western style clothing, but women still wore traditional robes in their daily life.
One of her favourite outings was the silk shop where she picked out a silk robe that complimented her hair and skin. A light emerald green, with light pink and coral flowers, flowed down the back and over the shoulders and the long hanging sleeves. An ivory obi she had learned what the belts were called, with delicate colourful flowers scattered over it. The shopkeeper taught Ken how to tie it tightly and securely, and gladly took the money Ken counted out.
But what enchanted her the most out of all Kyoto was the Fushimi Inari Taisha Shrine, and with the camera that Ken had brought with him he takes photos of her in the thousand Torii gates, She wishes the photos could be a colour, so others could see the green of her kimono and the bright red-orange of the gates. In the end, she would have to paint them herself, to try and remember the vividness that might leave her memory one day.
Before their final day, there was a grand festival, Jidai Matsuri—'Festival of Ages' had enchanted Rilla at the sights and sounds. A parade, with what seemed like thousands of people in costumes being carried around or walking to the imperial palace from one of the local shrines.
She found herself rather sad to leave this island as they rode the train back into Yokohama, which was the main port. She had hoped for a better fare, but she learns that the boat is gruelling on the first trip she finds out quickly as the motion set her stomach into chaos. It also felt strange at first to hear English again after six weeks of hearing Japanese, but quickly felling rapport with the other married couples they occasionally dined with at dinner time.
She had hoped then once on solid ground she would feel better and while she fared better, she still felt the constant motion of movement that turned her stomach.
She was tired but glad to be in Toronto but still laughs and shrieks when he manages to surprise and carry her over the threshold of his bachelor apartment. They would look for houses together, over the coming months, for now, his apartment would do just fine.
"Kenneth?" Rilla says as she lays in their bed.
"Yes, dearest?" He hums, eyes still shut.
"I think we will need a house sooner rather than later down the road." He sits up in bed looking down at her in sheer puzzlement, but it dawns on him as she motions to her stomach in the smallest way with a tiny embarrassed smile and nod of her head.
"My lord above, you really don't do things by halves do you?" Ken says in amazement.
This is the end of this small story, until next time.