A/N: I did some mythology research and watched the Narnia DVD again and bam! I'm on a roll with some fresh ideas that I stopped my life so I could just keep writing for days. I'm bordering on some really sensitive issues with this story but I tried to make it as tame as possible, so I hope nobody would find it offensive. If you still do, you're welcome to flame me for it. I accept criticism, both positive and negative.
To those who have encountered me for the first time, this story follows my Lessons in Diplomacy, Queen Susan's Marriage, etc. etc. universe. You don't have to read all four, but I do recommend you read at least "The Great Galman Escape" first to fully understand this story.
Disclaimer: I might be making C.S. Lewis turn in his grave with this. I mess up with his characters and his world in the most evil ways possible.
Bacchanalia
Chapter One
The Trouble with Susan
High King Peter hid his yawn with a cough and tried his best to listen to the proposal of the foreign ambassador from the Lone Islands regarding the lowering the tariff rates on the fruit imports. The talks had been going on for three days now and Peter was tired.
The trouble with times of peace is that you are forced to deal with the less exciting problems of governing a country. To Peter it meant entertaining visitors with balls and fancy dinners. It meant reading up on reports, sitting on discussion tables with foreigners for hours, listening to proposals and making decisions. It got so tedious sometimes that he almost wished somebody would attack Narnia so he could get some action in the battlefield where he was most comfortable.
Edmund and Susan were more cut out for these kinds of things. That was why Peter had them assigned primarily on external diplomatic affairs. Ever since two years ago, when Susan and Edmund had proved to be excellent negotiators, Peter had let them deal with much of the foreign concession agreements for him. But that didn't mean he need not do anything about it at all. He, as High King, was almost always at the meetings as well.
Originally, when they first stepped in as kings and queens of Narnia, they had divided the workload among themselves. Peter took over national security, which was the primary concern then. Edmund helped him with battle strategies as well as external talks among foreign dignitaries during councils of war. Susan was best in numbers and general management. Thus, she was assigned to run Cair Paravel's household as well as monitoring supplies for the entire kingdom, particularly the army. Lucy was always the closest to the people of Narnia. So naturally, she took on the job of seeing to their day to day concerns and other internal affairs.
But with no more threats of war, Peter had to ease out of his original duties and settle more on diplomatic relations with his other three siblings. In the last few years, he did get the hang of it, but there were times when it felt so trying. This last week had been one of them.
On Monday he had to deal with that annoying suitor of Susan from Terenbinthia that kept pestering him for her hand even after she said no so many times. Peter actually had to order him bodily out of Cair Paravel just to get rid of him.
Tuesday was the state dinner for the visiting King of Galma. Lycurgus dragged on and on with his boring conversation, it exhausted Peter like he had just gone from a fierce battle.
On Wednesday, he got stuck at an internal budget meeting that droned for hours and made his head swim with all the figures. It became so bad, he could hardly concentrate. Susan had to prod him several times to pay attention. When he finally moved to dismiss it at half past nine in the evening, Susan got mad at him for stopping it too early when they had more to discuss. They ended up having a 20-minute screaming match outside the throne room. She won the argument though, so on Thursday, he was forced to sit through another long session. He figured Susan made the figure presentations even longer just to get back at him. The result was that he wasn't able to do his regular armoury practice routine. It was the one activity he was looking forward to all week and he had lost his chance. When the meeting finally adjourned late at night, Peter started another fight with Susan and it ended with them glaring and slamming their bedchamber doors at each other.
Lucy was the angel that forced them to make up the next morning at breakfast. She reminded them that they had to cooperate as a team for the trade negotiation talks with the Lone Islands ambassadors. It was rather fortunate that she did. The talk with the visiting ambassadors proved to be tricky that Peter was glad Susan was back on his side, although he still harbored some ill feelings towards her.
The negotiations went on for the rest of the weekend. It was now late Sunday afternoon. The Ceresian Festival was starting early tomorrow and still the negotiations hadn't come to a close. Peter was about to move to suspend the negotiations but Edmund beat him to it. Susan made no argument. It was after all she, who had to preside on the activities beginning early tomorrow.
"You're invited to stay for the Ceresian Festival, of course," said Edmund to the ambassadors. He had the talks moved to resume after a week.
The ambassadors thanked them but said that they also had a pressing matter to discuss with King Lune in Archenland. They promised to return after a week. They took their leave and Susan and Lucy saw them to the door.
"The week's been hell," Edmund said. He, Peter and Mr. Tumnus were the only ones that remained around the table in the discussion room. "Thank Aslan the Ceresian's tomorrow, gives us a break at least."
Peter dropped his forehead on the table. Oh yes the seven-day Ceresian Festival. It was a nice long holiday. Unfortunately it was the one festival where Susan took the lead. He wasn't jealous, but Susan did tend to be over-enthusiastic about it.
"Knowing Susan, she'll be having us running up and about the whole of Narnia all week with the harvest," Peter complained. "And she'll insist I lead every single dance every afternoon. What I really need is a break from her."
"She's not that bad," said Edmund. "You're still at her for last Thursday?"
"Oh come on Ed, admit it. Half my stress this week came from her."
"She can't help it, you know and she does mean well. The Ceresian is part of her duties and she just wants us all to get into it."
"Well she tends to overdo it. I love the Ceresian, I do, but it gets pretty monotonous after six years and Susan insisting I go on to it with same enthusiasm as the last five is starting to get to me," Peter raised his head from the table and shook it. I just wish for once, even for one day, I could enjoy it without her. Do something a bit different. I want to have a little bit of adventure."
"If I may interrupt," said Mr. Tumnus. Edmund and Peter turned to him. "I think I may be able to help."
"What do you have in mind, Mr. Tumnus?" asked Edmund.
The faun gave them a conspiratorial smile. "I think it's about time you take part in a certain festival that occurs in Narnia during the summer harvest."
Edmund knocked softly on Peter's bedroom door. His brother gently opened it.
"Ready?" Edmund asked and Peter nodded. They crept through the hallway together and made their way towards the stables where Philip and Peter's unicorn, Aglaia were waiting for them.
"Tumnus left you those," said Philip as he pointed his snout towards a pair of faun skins hanging by a nail on a post.
Edmund nodded. When Mr. Tumnus told him and Peter about the Bacchanalia last week, they both gamely agreed to go on the last day of the Ceresian Festival—also the last night of the Bacchanalia. Peter had insisted he wanted no one to recognize them as kings even among the nymphs and fauns. He planned to fully enjoy himself tonight without any of the responsibilities attached to his crown. Thus, they concocted a plan with Mr. Tumnus to disguise themselves as fauns.
The two kings hurriedly undressed and got into their new costumes for the night. They were about to get on their horses when Edmund noticed a figure standing at the entrance of the stables in her dressing gown and slippers.
"Where are you going?"
Edmund's heart sank. This was what they feared the most. Susan had found out.
"What are you doing here, Su?" Peter asked irritably.
"I saw you creep outside from my bedroom window," she said. "Where are you off to?" She approached them and noticed their rather odd clothing. "And what are you two wearing?"
"None of your business," said Peter.
Susan continued to eye their goat-like trousers. "You're going off into the night dances with Mr. Tumnus, aren't you?"
Edmund gave a defeated sigh. The secret was out.
Susan laughed. She didn't sound angry but rather amused. "Really the faun look doesn't suit you, but I suppose you must, if you want to be discreet when you get there."
"What do you know about it?" asked Edmund.
"Oh the Bacchanalia?" she said. "Not much. I've no idea really. It's just that one of my nymph maids happened to mention it to me. She said it was just about dancing with the fauns and we all know they do that after dusk during the Ceresian. Well, I suppose we'll find out tonight."
"We?" asked Edmund skeptically.
"Well of course, I'm going with you," said Susan. "Just give me a minute to run back up and put on something else."
"No, you can't," said Peter firmly.
"And why not?" she asked. Her voice had hitched higher as she reacted to Peter's opposition.
"Well…" Peter began but stopped. Mr. Tumnus had warned them specifically not to bring Susan and Lucy or even tell them anything about the Bacchanalia. He said something about too much drinking involved, but Edmund suspected there was something else that Mr. Tumnus left out. Edmund had an idea and he thought it might not exactly be appropriate for girls to come along.
"It's not going to interest you," said Peter finally.
"And how would you know that?" she challenged. "Have you ever been to one?"
Peter ignored the question. "You're not invited."
"And since when do you need to have an invitation to go to a Narnian festival? I'm the Queen. If I want to go, I'll go."
"Well then I forbid you to go!" said Peter.
Susan's eyes flashed angrily. "You? Forbid me to go!"
Peter met her heated gaze with his own. "Yes, as High King, I can do that!"
"You're not the boss of me, Peter Pevensie!" she shouted.
"Well in Narnia, I am!"
"I thought you promised me you'll trust me. Two years ago when I got rid of Minax, you said you'll treat me equally!" cried Susan. She looked to Edmund for support.
Edmund thought she did have a point and that Peter was wrong to be pulling rank now. But he too didn't want to let Susan come with them so he said nothing in her defense.
"That was different," retorted Peter. "I meant equally when it came to affairs of the state and responsibility of governing. It has nothing to do with this. So go back to bed and leave us alone!"
"No, I won't. I have as much right as you to come!" she insisted.
"Fine then!" said Peter. "Either you go back up to your room on your own, or I'll order Oreius to lock you up in there all night!"
"You wouldn't dare!" Susan cried desperately. Edmund knew she had lost the argument. Peter would no doubt do that if he was forced. He was just that desperate to get away from her. The entire week of the Ceresian went on as Peter predicted. Although they didn't exactly fight, Edmund knew Susan had hit a few nerves with Peter with her constant encouragement to all of them to always lead the dances and the threshing. Peter usually complied, but he was stressed out the week before and didn't have much energy for it. Edmund knew his older brother hated being nagged and was just eager to get back at her now that her festival was over.
"I can call him right now. What's it going to be?" he hissed menacingly.
Susan huffed angrily then marched away. Edmund watched her go, feeling a bit sorry. He could sense that Peter did too. But there was nothing they could do and their curiosity on the Bacchanalia won them over. They got on their horses and were soon off trotting.
When they arrived at the woods near Dancing Lawn they parted ways with Philip and Aglaia.
"Are you sure you don't want to come Philip?" asked Edmund.
"Oh no. The Bacchanalia's no fun for horses. Not enough grass in Dancing Lawn, too trampled. We're best off to a feast of our own. Aglaia and I will come back for you at sunrise here."
"Thanks Philip," said Edmund. Peter rubbed his unicorn affectionately. Aglaia was not a talking beast but she understood the High King's instructions nevertheless and was soon galloping away with Philip to some more grassy area to rest for the night.
The two kings walked through the woods until they reached a large clearing. Mr. Tumnus was there to greet them and offered them garlands of leaves and flowers to wear in their heads.
"Good that you're finally here," he said. "It just us fauns still. But company will arrive soon."
Music was already playing and Mr. Tumnus invited them both for a dance. Peter and Edmund immediately joined the circle of fauns. Edmund felt himself relax. Their earlier encounter with Susan was soon forgotten with such jolly companions. It felt wonderful to have a holiday and he was glad he had come. He felt freshly renewed and he felt he had so much more energy in him.
When their round finished, he sat down under a tree beside Peter and Mr. Tumnus and someone passed him a goblet of wine. Edmund inhaled cautiously at the drink. Ever since the incident with the White Witch, he had gained a habit of distrusting any food or drink given to him by just about anyone. He often told himself he was being ridiculous as no one among his subjects would try to poison him, but he still did it anyway. He noticed that all the other fauns and even his brother were gulping their own goblets down without hesitation. It convinced him to sip a little and he found it was just the regular wine that they usually had.
There was a pleasant sound of female laughter that tinkled like bells.
"Ahh, here come the nymphs!" cried Mr. Tumnus.
Edmund looked up and saw dozens of nymphs enter the clearing from the shelter of the trees. In the moonlight, their clear skin shone like alabaster and their long hair decorated with summer flowers flowed like silk. They began to move in a sensual dance and Edmund found himself staring in fascination. He was used to seeing nymphs but they appeared so much different to him now. It was like they had a power they had never revealed to him before. They made him want to jump up and touch them, yet at the same time he was afraid to do so. He suddenly realized why Mr. Tumnus had warned them not to bring Lucy and Susan. He felt that just watching the nymphs like this with his sisters around would make him very uncomfortable.
Finally the music ended and the nymphs stopped dancing. Edmund wanted to complain to whoever was playing the music to keep playing, for he never wanted the nymphs to stop. He realized his mouth was dry and he took a gulp of wine. He noticed Peter was also gulping down his drink as if he had just crossed the Calormen desert.
Mr. Tumnus offered them a refill from a pitcher. Peter gladly accepted and had his goblet filled to the brim. Edmund saw no need to refill his own goblet and declined the offer. He was curious, however, and a bit amused to see his brother down his newly refilled goblet like his life depended on it. It became apparent to Edmund a moment later why Peter did. Several nymphs had approached them. And with tender gazes and seductive pouts, those enticing creatures invited them to join them in another round of dancing. Mr. Tumnus didn't hesitate and was immediately off in the arms of a doe-eyed nymph. Peter, flushed partly from wine, partly from his own shyness, hesitated, but only for a moment. Edmund figured the wine must have kicked in some sense of boldness in him and the High King was soon up and about frolicking in the heels of a nymph whose dress flowed like water against her shimmering skin.
Edmund found himself facing a pale nymph in a dress of bark. She offered a soft hand to him but Edmund could do nothing but blush and stare at her for a long moment. When he finally came to his senses, however, she had been dragged away by another faun.
He looked around and realized he was alone sitting on the grass. Everyone seemed to have joined in the dance that was now even gayer than before. Edmund regretted hesitating for so long and losing his chance. But he could do nothing except sit and watch in envy as his brother and the rest of fauns danced and occasionally received kisses and looks and touches from the nymphs that promised so much more delights.
There was a slight movement to his right and he turned and met a pair of almond-shaped amber-coloured-eyes, a perfectly curved nose, soft cheeks, and pale yellowish lips. It was a pleasant face all framed by glorious dark green hair that flowed down to her breast and met her dress of leaves. Her garment appeared to be the same colour and texture as her hair that he couldn't tell where the latter ended and the former began. She smelled of apples mixed with a hint of citrus from the orange blossoms that adorned her entire body.
"May I join you, good Sir?" her voice had a soothing quality to it that he found very refreshing.
Edmund nodded silently. There was something about her that intrigued him so.
"You do not care to dance?" she asked.
He didn't know what to reply. Yes, he did care to dance but he didn't want to leave her side either. It didn't occur to him that he could do both if he asked her to dance with him.
"First time you have attended a Bacchanalia, Your Majesty?"
Edmund was startled. "You know who I am?"
"You are my king," she replied.
Edmund managed a smile. "I suppose the disguise doesn't fool anyone."
"Oh no, it does. In the moonlight it is easy to manage the disguise. It's just that I know because I've seen you before. I've watched you ride into the edge of the Western Woods in Lantern Waste where I live," she admitted without shyness. Edmund found it rather endearing that she could speak so honestly and directly. "I've wondered… and I've longed to make your acquaintance your highness," she added.
"Well then I'm very pleased to meet you…"
"I am called Semele, Your Highness. I am a tree nymph or rightfully, a Maliade, for my tree is the apple."
"Please, call me Edmund. Let us be friends," he offered her his hand to shake.
Semele looked a bit confused at the offered hand and Edmund realized she didn't understand—as most Narnians do—the concept of handshaking. Nevertheless, she seemed to catch on the friendly gesture and placed her warm soft hand on his and smiled up at him. "Alright… Edmund."
The young king flushed at how she said his name and he wanted to hear her say it again. But just then the dance ended and the fauns returned to their seats, this time with the nymphs linked at their arms. A lot of them were roaring with laughter at some private joke or other that Edmund was temporarily distracted. He noticed Peter return to his seat with a water nymph by his side. He retrieved his freshly refilled goblet (Edmund lost track of how many times his brother had a refill), and gulped it down. Peter's newly found friend whispered something in his ear and the High King promptly plunged his face into her neck in an obvious move to kiss a spot there while she treaded her glistening aqua-blue fingers in his hair.
The music struck for the fourth time heralding another dance. However, very few joined in the circle. Several fauns and nymphs began moving to shadowy corners behind the trees. Edmund had a vague idea why and he felt his cheeks redden.
"You are worried," said Semele to him. "You have not gotten into the spirit of the Bacchanalia?"
"What exactly is the spirit of this feast?"
"Carefree-ness," she responded. "You must let yourself go to enjoy fully the pleasures of life."
"Oh but never entirely," argued Edmund, thinking about a time in his past when he let his guard down and thought only of the delight of a particular sweet that almost cost him his family. "We must be responsible."
"Not all the time," said Semele. "It is good to think so, but one must find a balance. It is the way towards a healthy life. One must at times cast away burdens."
Edmund gave a little laugh. "You are talking to the wrong king. Peter's the serious one. I think he needs to be careless more than I do."
"And I think he has no trouble doing that at the moment." Semele swiveled her head towards Peter's direction and Edmund followed her gaze. He was rather startled to see Peter lip-locked with the Naiad. Edmund suddenly admired his brother for his ability to go on about it for a long time without coming up for air. Considering she's a water nymph, shouldn't he be drowning by now?
When Peter did finally surface, it was only to swallow another half-cup of wine. He was soon back for round two with the nymph.
Edmund suddenly felt conscious around Semele. Does she expect me to kiss her like that too? He thought nervously. He had never kissed a female—human or otherwise—in his life. Back in that other world he was far too young to think of it. When he got older, it just never occurred to him to do that since the opportunity never seemed to present itself.
Suddenly, there was the sound of cymbals and pipes and beat of an instrument Edmund hadn't heard of before. Then came shouting: "Euan, euan, eu-oi-oi-oi!"
The dancing abruptly stopped and most of the fauns and nymphs lounging in the grass looked up from their seats, joy a-lighting their faces. They echoed the cry: "Euan, euan, eu-oi-oi-oi!"
It went on for several times until the origin of the noise made itself known when it appeared into the clearing. There was a boy but his features looked too pretty to be male. He was wearing a faun skin and wreaths of leaves and flowers in his hair. He carried an instrument with him that was making that continuous fierce beat. Behind him was a fat old man on a donkey who was completely drunk. He kept shouting: "Refreshments! Refreshments!" But what followed these two where what captured Edmund's attention: Women—well at least he thought they were women. They looked human enough. Their arms were bare and they wore short skirts that showed their legs that seemed to have met too much sun. Their untamed hair flew in all directions as they marched—or rather danced—in a frenzied manner as if they didn't know where they were going. Yet they seemed to follow the youthful boy in a procession. Suddenly, most of the nymphs jumped away from the fauns. They came running up behind the women and were welcomed as part of their party. Even Peter's nymph had come too.
Edmund saw that Semele was among the few that didn't join them.
"They're the Maenads," responded Semele to his unasked questions. "They're followers of Bacchus. He's that youth leading. The one behind him on the donkey is Silenus."
Edmund had an idea who Bacchus and Silenus were from the stories Lucy told him that Mr. Tumnus related to her. "You're not joining them?" Edmund asked, silently praying that she wouldn't.
"No, most of us tree nymphs don't. We don't get drunk easily, see? We are too used to the taste of grapes since some of their vines usually crawl up our trees. Not like the Naiads, the water nymphs. They're the ones that usually join the Maenads."
"What are the Maenads anyway?" asked Edmund curiously. "Are they human?"
"No, no Maenad is human. They give that up when they follow Bacchus permanently so they could travel with him to other worlds whenever his festival is celebrated. But most of them used to be. Some are former nymphs."
"You never thought of being one?"
She shook her head. "Oh no, I am happy here in Narnia and I do not wish to live forever like them. The lifetime of my tree is good enough. And Bacchus will not accept me even if I wanted to join him. It is hard for me to get drunk. That is a prerequisite."
"What about these nymphs that join him now?" asked Edmund. He noticed there were quite a lot of them and he was worried the nymph population in Narnia might decline at alarming rates if this went on every year.
"Oh they won't be Maenads forever. Just for the night. Bacchus chooses which ones will be his permanent Maenads among the nymphs and he only chooses one every few hundred years. You have to be quite special to be picked."
"I think you're quite special," Edmund blurted without thinking. He felt a bit embarrassed for being blunt but Semele's face lighted up so much with the compliment that he was glad he did say it.
Edmund was startled when he felt something touch his head and he whipped around in alarm and saw vines creeping near his hair. He noticed that all around Dancing Lawn wild vines had appeared in abundance, covering the trees. They began growing in the ground and climbing up the fauns' and nymphs' legs. Edmund grew alarmed when a vine appeared near his feet and he jumped away.
"It's alright," laughed Semele. She let a pair of vines enclose her legs. They reached up to her mid-thigh and she giggled. "They don't hurt. Just tickle them when you want them to move away."
"Excuse me? Tickle them?" asked Edmund, bewildered.
Semele reached down to her left leg and gently rubbed at the end of the vine with her finger. Immediately, the vine retracted. She didn't touch the vine on her other leg and it quickly sprouted a small bunch of grapes. She picked the entire bunch then tickled the vine so she could get free. She offered a single grape to Edmund.
"Is it safe?" he asked as he glanced at the Maenads who were by now picking and eating the grapes that had now grown in abundance from the vines.
"Of course, it's safe," she assured him. She popped one in her mouth and chewed with such a delightful expression in her face that Edmund was immediately convinced it could never be harmful. "It is the wine you should watch out for," she continued.
"Wine?" But before she could answer back, Edmund saw from the corner of his eye streams of red liquid appear from the large rocks that bordered the clearing where there were no trees. It pooled into one area and formed a sort of fountain. Immediately, Bacchus led the Maenads, the nymphs that joined them and some of the fauns into filling their goblets from the new spring.
"It's a lot stronger than ordinary wine," explained Semele. "It tastes better, but you don't want to have too much."
She didn't have to explain why. Immediately, the fauns who had their fill from Bacchus' wine, appeared more flushed. They laughed more boisterously than before and danced with wilder abandon. Edmund resolved not to touch a drop of it.
He accepted the grape Semele offered and bit into it. It was the best piece of fruit he had ever tasted. Semele was ready to offer him a second piece but he didn't take it from her hand. Boldly, he decided to just open his mouth and let her feed him. She took the hint and did just that. He tingled at the touch of her fingertips on his lips.
He wanted to continue doing that but somebody bumped hard into his back and he almost fell to the ground. Semele managed to move away behind a tree in time. Edmund grabbed whoever it was that collided on him and found Peter—or somebody very drunk that looked liked him. Edmund almost couldn't tell. His hair was a tangled mess and his faun skin was ripped in several places. He was red all over and he had a stupid grin that Edmund had never seen on his face before.
Edmund gave him an arm for support for the older king couldn't seem stand straight anymore.
"Ed, she's beautiful," Peter murmured.
Edmund glanced at Semele who moved in front of them. "I know," he whispered back though he made sure the nymph could hear him.
Peter twirled his index finger around. "Not her," he said. "That one," he pointed behind Semele to the group of Maenads in the middle of the clearing who started dancing again.
Edmund shook his head. "No, you don't want those," he said patronizingly before he shared a laugh with Semele. "I don't think you can handle them." He sat Peter down with his back to a tree trunk. Edmund wondered if Peter had been intoxicated with just the plain wine or the one Bacchus just made flow. He hoped it was just the former.
"Can you get her… she… come and join me, Ed?" slurred Peter.
"I don't think so, I think she's quite busy, whoever she is." He glanced back at the dancing Maenads and realized he couldn't turn away. Their wild dance seemed to mesmerize him even more than the nymphs' dance a while ago. There was something savage about the way they moved that was so terribly attractive. It made him want to join them, take one of them in his arms and claim her for his own for—whatever, he didn't exactly know what.
Peter appeared to be affected the same way for he had stood up on his own and was staggering towards the group of dancers. But before he could come near them, three fauns had gotten there first and attempted to grab some of the Maenads. The frenzied women, however suddenly turned upon them and pushed them away with such violent force that Edmund was taken aback. He immediately recovered as if he just woke from a dream and instinctively pulled Peter back to the tree.
"Maenads are like that," Semele said calmly. "They don't want to be touched by anyone male except Bacchus and Silenus."
"And if the males insist?" asked Edmund.
"They kill them."
Edmund stared at her in horror.
"Don't worry, fauns know that, even if they're drunk. No one makes more than one attempt. After someone gets pushed back, it sends a jolt on anyone else who wants to try to touch them. No one has ever been killed during a Bacchanalia, at least from the time I've lived, which is at least 400 years."
Edmund somehow didn't find that reassuring. The idea that these creatures come every year while his subjects were drunk made them somehow even more dangerous. It was the vulnerability of the fauns that made Edmund afraid for them.
He stared back at the dancing Maenads but this time their mesmerizing power over him was gone. He could now watch them with a clear head. They were still attractive but he no longer have the urge to grab. The image of being brutally shoved left a clear imprint on his mind.
Edmund noticed one of them. She seemed to move differently from the others. She had more grace in the way her arms moved and her body arched in time to the music. Her dress was short and torn in a few places to reveal more skin like everyone else but it looked fresher and not so worn. And her hair—it was gloriously long and shone like spun silk in the moonlight. Despite its disarray, her hair had that quality that it was well-maintained, like it had been washed and brushed constantly before this night unlike the other Maenads who seemed to just let their hair grow without ever brushing them. Edmund squinted forward to try to look at her face but due to the shadows and the distance, he couldn't discern it.
"Who is that?" asked Semele.
"You don't know her?"
"I don't think I've seen her before. I've seen all the Maenads and I know all the nymphs. She might be a new ocean nymph. Some new ones come in once in a while. But how strange her skin looks different."
Edmund had to agree. She didn't look in anyway like a nymph. She looked human. He watched her for a long time. There was something strangely familiar about the way she moved.
Semele stopped a nearby nymph to inquire about the strange Maenad then turned to Edmund.
"My sister tells me her name is Daphne," related Semele. "She came with the Naiads from the river. I thought I had known all of them."
The music grew to a faster beat and the dance became even wilder. The Maenad called Daphne stood above the others and led the dancers as if she ruled them. Edmund noticed that all eyes were now on her, as if she was the only one dancing. For some strange reason, Edmund resented all the stares everyone gave her. He wanted her to stop dancing so they wouldn't look anymore.
The music abruptly ended and the Maenads finished in a circular formation. Daphne stood superior in the middle of them. Bacchus approached her carrying a goblet of wine. She made no bow to him like the other Maenads. She continued to stand in his presence like his equal. The wine god didn't seem to take offense in this. Bacchus lovingly caressed her cheek with the back of his hand but she seemed to be stiff to his touch. He offered her his cup and she drained it. He took her hand and led her away from the rest of the dancers.
"He has chosen her as a permanent Maenad," said Semele with innocent fascination.
"What happens then?" asked Edmund.
"She is his forever once he consummates with her tonight."
Edmund shuddered. He didn't know why, but suddenly he took off towards Bacchus and his new Maenad. They had left the clearing and were headed towards a darker section of the woods. The Maenad kept drinking from the goblet which didn't seem to empty despite how much she drank from it.
It was still too dark to see anything but their figures, but finally a sliver of moonlight managed to come through the shelter of trees. It struck at the Maenad only for a moment, but in that span of time Edmund was able to see her face clearly.
His felt like his heart stopped beating altogether.
It was Susan.
A/N: Here's another lesson in mythology. There are various kinds of nymphs. Dryads are wood or forest nymphs while Naiads are fresh water nymphs. However, I did find a reference to a Maliade which is a nymph specifically of fruit trees.
Regarding Maenads, also known as Bacchantes or the wild girls that follow Bacchus, I'm not sure whether they are human. It doesn't say in any of the articles and books I've checked. They could be nymphs themselves. However, there was a story about human women who joined the Maenads when they got drunk and displayed the same violent traits as Maenads and eventually killed a man (Pentheus). I took the liberty of filling in that gap in the nature of the Maenad and came up with the idea that Maenads could originally be either nymph or human. However, once they join Bacchus permanently they become neither. Instead, they become an immortal being on their own. Hope it wasn't too confusing.