The Winter Solstice appropriately dawned bright. A new cycle had begun; new life would flourish, grow, and produce. It was a wonderful time.
What was even more wonderful was that Sarina and Dagon had the castle all to themselves for the next week. Dagon had generously and selfishly given the entire staff the week off to the surprise of everyone, especially Bernard.
Dagon had wanted time alone with Sarina, time to love and time to prepare and the holiday was the perfect excuse to send everyone away. And they left with haste and glee before the lord of the castle changed his mind. That was, all except Bernard.
He had argued most vehemently with Dagon, insisting someone had to stay and see to the castle and to preparing meals. When Dagon informed him that Sarina and he would see to their meals, he gasped out loud and shuddered at the suggestion.
It was Margaret who made her husband have a change of heart. She told him if he didn’t leave with her, she would leave without him. In a matter of days she had arranged for a trip to the Greek Isles and nothing, not even a stubborn husband, would spoil her plans. She had heard of this little restaurant whose chef had yet to gain national recognition, yet whose cooking was gaining fame, and she hoped to learn about his much-talked-of olive sauce that was said to have a magical taste.
Bernard realized quickly enough that where food was concerned, his wife would go with or without him and he decided, he didn’t want his wife alone in the Greek Isles.
Of course, now that the two were alone and the holiday was upon them, not to mention Christmas but four days away, Dagon suddenly had second thoughts. His mind quickly changed when he walked toward the kitchen and a delicious aroma stung his nostrils.
He entered the kitchen with anxious anticipation and smiled when he caught sight of Sarina. She wore white knit leggings, thick white socks and a white V-neck sweater that skimmed her slim hips. Her long sleeves were pushed up, her hair was twisted up and clipped with a large white hair clip, and she wore a red bib apron that depicted a winter snow scene with various animals cuddled together around a fire. She looked absolutely charming.
Her hands were buried deep in dough while filled pots bubbled softly on the stove and luscious smells drifted from the oven. A tray of cookies sat wrapped with ribbons of white and gold, an apple pie sat cooling on a wire rack, and yams sat dripping in a colander ready to be wrapped and baked. It was definitely going to be a tasty holiday.
“Need help?” he asked and eyed the cookie tray with intent before giving her a kiss.
“How about you make us some hot chocolate and we have some cookies. I could use a break right after I finish shaping this dough.”
“And to think Bernard thought we would starve,” Dagon said, taking the milk carton from the refrigerator.
“Margaret left me precise instructions and told me if I did most of the cooking at once we would only need to reheat the rest of the week. And since I wanted time with you... “Her words drifted off though her intentions were clear.
Dagon turned the flame on under the pot of milk and then walked over to Sarina, slipping his arms around her waist and burying his face in the back of her hair. “You may grow tired of me. After all, it is a lifetime we will be spending together.”
Her body tensed at his words. “I want so very much to spend a lifetime with you.”
“And so you shall.”
“I want to believe—”
“Then believe—it is that simple, believe.”
She molded the bread in the pan and placed it aside, covering it with a clean dishcloth. With a quick brush of her hands she touched them to Dagon’s arms, which remained secure around her waist.
“We have only a couple more weeks left before her return.”
“We will solve this puzzle,” he insisted.
“Even if we don’t have all the pieces?”
“We will find them,” he assured her and with his cheek pushed her hair aside to nuzzle her neck with his lips.
She shivered to the tips of her toes. “You start that and we may just wind up ruining the meal.”
“The milk!” he shouted and turned to see it near to bubbling over. He hurried over to shut off the flame and gather mugs and the powdered chocolate. “First the milk and cookies, then—” He sent her a wink.
Sarina cleared the table, placing the two loaves of bread to rise on the counter. It was a quick cleanup since she had grown accustomed and relaxed around the kitchen. Dagon sat at the head of the table and she to his side, the plate of cookies sat between them, and they both enjoyed the assortment he had chosen, though their favorites remained the star sugar cookies with vanilla icing. Hot mugs of chocolate steaming with heat and clouds of whipped cream floating on top sat cooling beside each of them.
“Tell me of some feats that might impress your sister,” he asked, hoping this day of new beginnings would be a good day to discuss the spell. Later they would give thanks and cast prayers for a generous year for all, but for now he wished to discuss their most urgent dilemma and hope that the power of this special day would somehow help in solving it.
Sarina nibbled at the end of a star. “I am uncertain of what would impress my sister. She is so very powerful. Any feat I perform would appear meager next to hers.”
“She didn’t speak of her own best feat, she spoke of yours,” he reminded. “Her words in effect were that you were to perform your best feat.”
“That is true, so then she doesn’t expect me to outshine her, though she does intend that I impress. But without my powers, it’s useless,” she said with a dejected shrug.
Dagon held the jam thumbprint cookie that he was about to take a bite of up in her face. “Did you use magical powers to bake these?”
“You know I didn’t.”
“And they turned out delicious, didn’t they?” he asked and took a bite. “Damn, they are delicious,” he mumbled between eager bites.
She smiled and wiped at a crumb off the comer of his mouth. “Cooking is not an impressive feat.”
“I think Sebastian would disagree with you.”
That brought a hardy laughter to Sarina. “I suppose you’re right.”
He took her hand. “What I’m saying is that maybe magic isn’t important in performing your best feat. Look how much you have accomplished over the last few months without the help of magic.”
She gave his words thought and realized the possibility. Could she possibly have learned enough to perform a feat that would require no magic and that would impress her sister? Yes, there was possibility. She would have to think on it.
To Dagon she said, “You could be right.”
He squeezed her hand. “I will not lose you.”
He had repeated those words so often to her of late that she was beginning to believe them. How they would remain together she did not know, but she was beginning to believe that they would, and with faith in her belief she knew it was possible.
Her fingers wrapped around his. “I am glad we have this time alone together.”
“So am I,” he said and leaned over to steal a kiss.
“I was going to ask a favor of you,” she said in whisper.
“Anything,” he said his body temperature on the rise.
She ran a teasing finger across his lips. “Promise you’ll do what I ask?”
“Whatever you want, dear heart,” he insisted, ready, willing, and most definitely able.
“I want you—” she nipped at his bottom lip.
He inched closer to her, his hand slipping under her breast, and damned if she wasn’t wearing a bra.
“—to go outside and collect a few fresh pine branches for the lighting of the candles tonight.”
Her breast rested in his stilled hand, and his look was that of a stricken young boy who had just been denied a treat. “Outside?”
She nodded. “I prepared the sacred candles for the solstice, and I require fresh boughs of pine to help with the cast.”
He shook his head, looking heartbreakingly sad. “I thought—” He couldn’t finish, he simply sighed.
She laughed softly as his hand drifted away from her breast, and she hastily cupped his face in her hands, giving him a quick kiss. “I will not deny you what you want, and I know you want to make love now. I thought to wait until this evening, at high solstice when we could cast the candles together and make love at that special time that will seal our love forever.”
He could not believe her words. He knew she loved him but this, this sharing of the ancient ritual on the Winter Solstice, was rare. Wise witches only cast the candles, and to cast them with another was forging an enduring commitment, one that never would be denied or challenged but would be forever. A rare love.
“I never expected you to ask this of me,” he said in disbelief.
“I will understand if you do not wish to—”
He silenced her with a kiss and leaned his cheek to hers.
“Not wish? Dear heart, I am honored that you asked and accept your generous and loving offer with all my heart and soul.”
“Does that mean you’ll gather the pine boughs?”
They both started laughing and kissed and hugged and laughed some more before Dagon slipped into his dark gray overcoat and headed out to gather the branches.
Naturally the sun disappeared, as was its way this time of year, and clouds drifted overhead, but to Dagon the sky was aglow with sunshine, he felt so elated. Nothing could damper his spirits, and he hurried to accomplish the chore at hand.
He had picked a few as she had asked him, insisting he take no more than they needed. Their scent was strong as he leaned over, tying the ends together for easier carrying.
“Casting the candles with her, are you?”
Dagon was not disturbed by the unexpected voice. He was too familiar with the forest fairies to ever be startled by their presence. He lifted his head to see Beatrice descending slowly with fluttering wings to land on the pine branches.
“Such a lovely batch for casting, and proud they are that you have chosen them for such a sacred occasion.”
“Sarina will be happy to hear that.”
“She will know without you saying,” Beatrice said and began pacing along the pine needles.
Dagon had never seen Beatrice upset, but her pacing alerted him to her distress. “Something troubles you?”
Beatrice stopped pacing and placed her hands behind her back as she looked up at him with serious eyes. “Have you the answer to your questions?”
“The one answer you told me would answer all my questions?”
“Yes, that’s the one and an important one it is.”
“I think I only learned it a short while ago.”
“It matters not when you learned it as long as you learned it,” Beatrice assured him. “Now tell me the answer.”
He didn’t hesitate. “Love. Love is the answer to all the questions I had. Love makes you look at things differently, makes you feel differently, and makes you respond differently. Love is awareness in its highest form.”
Beatrice smiled, pleased by his response. “This is good. You know and you will need this answer to help others. Remember that when the time comes.”
“Why do I still feel you are worried about something?”
“Sometimes it is hard to be friends with someone you dislike, but necessity dictates that you must; it is at that time your love must be the strongest.”
“I don’t understand, Beatrice.”
“This spell that Tempest cast means more than you know. Remember the answer and use it wisely when you are faced with an adversary you think yourself unable to beat.”
He shook his head. “You confuse me. Are you speaking of Tempest?”
“She is not your adversary. She is friend and defender of all. It is in her strength that you and Sarina will find victory.”
Beatrice flew up to flit next to his face and kiss his cheek. “Love is a powerful weapon, Dagon, use it wisely and it will never fail you. And remember, I will always be there when you need me.”
She disappeared in a flash, leaving a twinkle of bright light in the tiny space she had occupied. She had not only confused him, she worried him. If there was more to this spell, what was he missing—and what harm could it bring Sarina and him?
Puzzles and pieces, he was beginning to hate them. Why couldn’t he just once receive a straight answer, something simple and direct?
But he had. Hadn’t he? Love was a simple answer, and yet complicated when he stopped to think about it. There were many levels and facets to love. He loved Alisande like a sister and he loved Sebastian as he would a brother. There was Sydney who was like a mother to him, and then there were his parents whom he loved with all his heart.
And there was a love of humanity that he supposed Tempest understood far better than he. Though if that was the case, why the spell on her sister?
He finished tying the branches and stood when suddenly he was struck by the unlikely yet plausible notion that, “Tempest cast the spell out of love?”
He shook his head. “A ridiculous notion.”
But his mind was already piecing the puzzle together. A witch never cast a spell that would cause any one hurt or harm. Not that revenge spells weren’t cast, they just weren’t cast by wise, knowledgeable witches. They knew better and they knew the consequences.
Sydney had remarked that Tempest was a wise teacher. Was she attempting to teach her sister a lesson? And if so, what was it?
“Damn,” he mumbled. “Just when I think I have the answers, I get more questions.”
You have the answer.
The soft voice in his head reminded him, and he wondered how love fit into this equation. The spell spoke of magical moments and a rare love. Were these things she wanted for her sister? What of the feat? What did she expect from her sister if love was the answer?
He gathered his branches with a shake of his head and headed back to the castle. He was tired of spells. First Ali got herself into a mess because of one and now the woman he loved.
What could possibly be next?
He didn’t want to know. He hurried his steps, aching for the warmth of the castle and Sarina’s welcoming arms.
She was at the kitchen door to greet him, a sprinkle of rain turning his hasty steps into a run. She reached out for him and he dropped the bundle of pine, snatching her up into his arms. He buried his face in her dark hair that had fallen loose from the clip. She smelled so good, like fresh baked bread and hot chocolate, and she felt incredibly warm and soft against him.
He wanted her there and then. He wanted to feel her warm naked skin against his, he wanted to join with her and forget the world existed. He wanted this moment for them and them alone.
His urgent kiss plumped her moist lips, and her familiar groans resonated in his ears. If he didn’t stop kissing, if his hands didn’t stop roving, if he didn’t stop thinking of her, he would not stop at all.
“Sarina.” Was he requesting permission from her or himself?
His name slipped slow and soft from her lips as he rained love-starved kisses over her face, and he knew she would not deny him. She would never deny him. She loved him.
“Tonight?” he asked, not wanting to spoil her plans.
“Will be ours as is this moment,” she said and reached down to open his zipper.
They loved like two reckless adolescents, quick and fast and with lots of laughs and awkward movements. After all, the kitchen wasn’t conducive to a romantic interlude, but for a hot joining it proved to be passion packed.
The countertop turned into a playful platform, a chair was shared, the table used for bracing and the hard floor the final stage for a joining that had both of them on their knees and panting like animals in the throes of a heated mating. Together they exploded in a primordial climax that had them roaring out their passion.
Dagon held her close to him, her head resting back on his chest, their breathing ragged and their bodies satiated.
“My bread!” she suddenly yelled and freed herself from him to run to the oven, snatching a cow pot holder off a peg near the sink along the way.
Dagon stood and stretched like a well-satisfied male lion as he watched her tend the oven without a stitch of clothes.
“Remind me to give the staff a holiday more often.”
She laughed after looking down at herself. “I didn’t know cooking could be so much fun.” She pulled the two bread pans from the oven and set them to cool on a wire rack on the countertop. She flicked the oven off and tossed the cow mitt on the table. “All done baking. What do you say we share a shower?”
He walked slowly toward her, his strides powerful, his long mane wild from their recent untamed activities, and his male scent alluring. She was already hungry for him, and when he reached her side, he scooped her up into his arms and attacked her neck with ravenous kisses that soon had them clawing at each other yet again.
o0o
They dressed in pure white robes in honor of the new sun, the new cycle, a new life. The pine boughs covered a long narrow table in the living room that sat beneath a tall window. The candles Sarina had made, all white and all various sizes, sat comfortably amongst the pine needles waiting to spark to life.
Each of them held a small lit candle in their hands, and it was Sarina who cast the ancient prayer in the ancient language that Dagon did not know but did not fail to understand. She blessed the Mother Earth and gave thanks for her generosity, and then she asked for the New Year to be filled with love, hope, and peace for all. And she asked that all would come to know the beauty of magic and allow its essence to touch their hearts and souls.
At opposite ends of the table they stood, and in unison they reached out their lighted candles to spark one candle, and then with a soft whisper of a breath from Sarina over the unlighted candles the magic of the cast took hold and she cried out in delight as candle by candle sparked to brilliant life until the twenty-one candles that covered the tabletop flickered with light.
She clapped her hands like an excited child, and her smile displayed her wonder and joy. She had feared that her meager power would fail her, but a small surge of energy still lingered, and it was all that was necessary for the cast to work.
“Bless you all,” she whispered to the candles, and their flames rose up and dipped as if in respect to her magic before settling to a normal flicker.
Dagon stared at her in awe. “I have never seen anything like that.”
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she said with pride.
“Will these candles really burn all year now?”
“Yes, they will. They are blessed with the magic of the solstice. Place them wisely throughout the castle, and they will offer light and protection.”
He walked over to her and she took the candle from his hand to blow out along with the one she held. “Thank you for this special night. It will linger long in my memory.”
She discarded the unlit candles to a nearby tray, and with a slow spreading smile she wrapped her arms around his neck. “We have more memories to make.”
An hour later with laughter on their lips and their bodies still damp from their enthusiastic lovemaking, they slipped back into their robes and attacked the table spread with a bounty of food.
“I’m starved,” Sarina said, piling her plate with sliced ham, turkey, oyster stuffing, and a fat yam. She frowned when she realized there was no more room on her plate and she would have to make a return trip for the vegetables.
Dagon opened a bottle of chilled chardonnay and filled two glasses for them. They picnicked in front of the large stone fireplace on the warmth of the hearth rug, sitting opposite each other so that they could share their plates of food.
Lady Lily enjoyed her own special treat, fresh milk and a fillet of fish broiled to her liking, and of course there was her new bed pillow scented with pine and on which she curled up to sleep after satisfying her stomach.
It was a joyous time for them, and they took advantage of every precious moment. They did not think of the past or the future, only the moment, and when they thought themselves stuffed, unable to eat any more, they both spied the tray of cookies on the table and tripped over each other in an attempt to beat the other to the tray first.
Sarina made them Earl Grey tea, and the teapot soon emptied and the cookies vanished, and they slumped together on the couch both proclaiming they would never eat another bite.
And wrapped in each other’s arms they fell asleep to the crackle of the fire and the contentment of their full stomachs, knowing tomorrow’s new sun would bring new promise and new hope and with a little magic a solution to their dilemma.