All Hallow’s Wish-2

“Mariella,” the stranger’s voice boomed through the night air. “Do you profess to those assembled here that you are a virgin, intact and undiscovered by man?”

“Yes,” she replied.

“And do you give yourself to me on this night of All Hallow’s Eve under the dark moon?”

“Yes,” she answered again, the words swimming out of her.

“Then for your gift, you shall be rewarded.”

He came to her then, his body crushing down on hers, his mouth covering her own so that she could hardly breathe. She could feel his manhood, hard and long, between them. He reared back, and with one hard thrust he entered her.

It seemed as if the world exploded around her. Darkness enveloped her vision as her world was reduced to the pain and pleasure of the stranger inside of her. Back and forth, in and out he moved, and Mari with him. Waves of desire and bliss broke over her again and again as the stranger rocked her body. The chanting grew louder still, the bodies of the worshippers closing in around her and the stranger, until at last she and her lover reached their climax together, shrieking out in unison with two dozen other voices in a howl that was both primal and divine.

Mari lay still, breathing heavily, her body thoroughly ravished and sated, as the stranger rose above her. He seemed almost to glow in the faint light of the stars, and Mari realized that the bonfire had been completely extinguished at the exact time of their climax.

“Yesssss….” he breathed out slowly, power and satisfaction rolling off his tongue.

The light around Mari grew dimmer, collapsing around the edge of her vision until only the stranger was visible. Then he, too, slid away, and Mari felt nothing more.

*** *** ***

Mari awoke all at once, her eyes flying open only to be burned by the sun streaming in her window. Quickly, she snapped them shut, opening them slowly. The sun was nearly halfway up the sky. How could her parents have let her sleep so late? She had chores, and the midwife wanted her to…

A knock at the door cut off her thoughts. That was what had woken her originally, she realized, not the sun. Hurriedly she threw on a robe and went to the door, shocked to find her mother and the midwife standing there.

“The midwife has come to inspect you,” her mother said curtly. Mari was confused. There was no reason for it. They would not allow her to marry for another two moons, and even if they suspected that she and Trent had been meeting each other at night, this would prove nothing against him. But she obediently went back to her bed and sat down.

“Now, now, child, this won’t hurt a bit,” the old crone said reassuringly. She had Mari remove her undergarments but allowed her to wrap her robe back around her before lying down on the bed. “No sense in catching a cold on a such a big day,” she said cryptically.

The old woman parted Mari’s knees and slipped one finger inside her private area, gently probing. “She is intact,” she proclaimed after just a few moments. Mari’s mother sighed with relief. Mari found that she herself had been holding her breath, though she had no reason to be nervous. She and Trent had been so careful.

Mari gathered her robe back around herself and sat up, and the midwife came forward and embraced her. “Good luck, my child,” she said, leaning forward to kiss her. As their lips met it was like a door opened inside Mari’s mind. She felt power, saw strange symbols, heard words in a language with no meaning. Then the old woman pulled away, a knowing smile on her lips, and everything was back to normal. The midwife embraced Mari’s mother and went out, leaving Mari and her mother alone in the room. Mari didn’t ask, but her mother could clearly read the question on her face.

“Marcus Steelman has come by to ask for your hand in marriage to his son, Trent. Though it is not our way, he has convinced us that by the ways of this new village you are quite ready to accept the challenge. You will be wed this very afternoon.”

Mari wanted to leap for joy, but her mother’s eyes were sad.

“Oh, mama,” she said, rising to embrace her mother. “I will be close, and I will always be your daughter.”

“I know,” her mother replied wearily, tears at last spilling down her cheeks. “But you are my only baby.”

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Her mother’s own wedding gown was fitted to Mari with astonishing speed. The priest had the village hall, which also served as a church, swept and decorated with autumn garlands. The ladies of the village provided sweet meats and pies and loaves and loaves of bread with freshly churned butter for the wedding feast. It was a celebration to remember.

And, Mari thought from some secret part of her, it was such a small thing.

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