Title: Dancing on Graves, part 1/3

Author: cyandragonfly

Beta:

Fandom: Original Fiction

Rating: PG - just....because

Disclaimer: All mine so please don't steal.

Distribution: P&P, fictionpress, others feel free to ask

Summary: on all hallows one eve, a ghost and girl did dance.

AN: My really, really, really (exceptionally, epically) late halloween fic. Partly inspired by Victoria Frances' 'Kiss' (hat tip zephyr_tempest *prods with Susan's poker*).

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It is a curious thing, waking up.

You would think that after almost two hundred years, the call to walk would have become familiar to me by now. Even though the chance only comes around once every decade.

First, you become aware of your body again. For your soul is resting inside your shell and as the hum of ancient pagan winds stir through each grave, you feel a shiver. Not all respond to the call, though I do believe those who hide miss out on a very marvelous thing.

Then, as the faeries begin their song, it is almost as though you can breathe again. As if you never ceased to in the first place.

And you feel your soul rise with the music - out of the ground, out of your grave - until you inhabit the living earth again.

I have, on occasion, wished I could change my attire. Swap for one of the many new fashions I have seen over the years. Tonight I am content to sway in my thin pale blue cotton, my bare feet happy to slip along the ivy blanket below them.

As I turn in the moonlight, I throw my smile at familiar faces: ghosts, spirits, sprites, demons, faeries, fauns - every creature you could imagine, and then some. Even some humans.

I passed on in my nineteenth year and, like the elves and vampires around me, I retain my youth. I feel I have a better deal than them; spending every day for all eternity living consciously - life must be drained of its joy. But floating through the afterlife as I do, until that one glorious day every ten years when we can celebrate that which most fear - you live it as the last day of your life and never waste a moment.

Which un-life would you prefer to experience?

The air lifts as the music in it changes. I turn my head and find my hand in an embrace. I reflect the smile on the werecat's face and allow my body to follow the weave of his dance. It is glorious to let your spirit feel the flow of the music and take it up as a chord in your heart.

If my blood could beat, it would be the percussion, the bass to this ethereal tune. This is what I live for, so to speak. I may not live on consciously in my afterlife as some do, yet I am still aware of missing something. And this is it. Partly.

When you exist as I do, there are only three things you wish for on this night of freedom from death. To dance; to laugh; to love. Some hallows I have been gifted with all three; others, I have only experienced one. Each year was memorable.

The werecat twirls me under his arm and as I turn, a flicker of red catches my eye from behind a far off oak tree. I pause in our dance to focus on what has caught my eye. There it is again. Red. Red hair. Long, red hair.

My partner understands my distraction and gives me a gallant bow. I brush the back of his hand with my lips in jest. He knows I will not follow up on the tease. His deep laugh echoes in my head as I turn to find the red again.

Without realising, I slowly make my way to the girl, whose shadowed profile is now clear to me. The closer I am, the easier it is to see how young the child truly is, although her size is hidden beneath an oversized coat. I can't help but smile at the look of mixed awe and fear on her face as she watches the celebrations.

"First dance?" I ask her in the shortened version of speech I have learnt from fresh ghosts the last few hallows. She jumps; I've startled her.

"No, no." She mutters, hurriedly trying to retreat into the uninhabited areas of the forest. "I didn't mean to in-in-in -" She stumbles as her coat catches on a briar and fell backwards into a willow.

"Intrude?" I asked with a smile, stepping over to her again, this time to help her stand. "You're not intruding." She withdraws, but I take a hold of her hand and pull her upright. My brows furrow and I look at our linked hands.

"You're human." She nods, although I don't need her confirmation. "You're much too young to be out alone in the woods on all hallows." She keeps nodding, her eyes on our hands, doing anything to avoid meeting my own. "How did you come to be here?" I let go of her hand and glance around.

A faerie who I've known for a while is nearby and I ask her in my mind for a favour. She nods. The girl lets out a small gasp as the willow's branches weave themselves around us in the shape of a giant sling.

"It's alright." I reassure her as we're lifted off the ground. I send my thanks to the faerie and shuffle a bit until I'm comfortable. The girl does the same, adjusting quickly to what must be a strange situation for her.

"How did you come to be here?" I repeat and she looks away. If I had to guess an age I would place her somewhere in her tenth year.

"Aunt Sarah said there would be monsters here tonight. So I came to see if it was true."

"You're not afraid of us, little one?" Her head shakes until I almost hear her brain rattle. My last question causes her to look me in the eye finally, and I see that hers are nearly the same shade as the trunk of the tree which is holding us.

"No."

"Some out here, it would be right to fear." I raise my eyebrows. "I'll protect you from them though. You don't have any reason to fear now."

"'Kay." She looked at me carefully before moving over and leaning against my shoulder. "Are you a monster?"

"No," I laughed softly, resting my cheek on a pillow of long red locks. "I'm a ghost."

"How come I can feel you, then?"

"Magic."

"How'd you die?" I can feel her drifting off slowly, but decide to answer her. She's the first person I've ever met who's asked me that question.

"My brother found me with his betrothed. He threw me down the well. I never had been taught to swim. The village all thought I fell in."

"Will you be here tomorrow night?" The questions were getting more mumbled as she moved closer to sleep.

"We are given one night in every ten years to enjoy the spoils of the earth again."

"If I came back in ten years, would you be here?"

"Yes."

"Because if I'm older I can stay up later, and you can tell me stories."

"It's a deal then." I whisper in her ear. "On this very spot, ten years from now, I'll wait for you to come and visit me."

"Deal." The girl held out her hand, smallest finger pointing at a right angle from the rest. I grip it with my own and give a couple of shakes for good measure.

We fall asleep soon enough, and I am happy with the way I spent my night above the earth.

--

Waking up chilled to the bone the next morning, a girl of about ten wrapped her mum's coat around her shoulders from where she had pushed it off during the night.

Crazy dream, she thought to herself. Opening her grey green eyes, she found herself in a hammock of willow branches. Ten years. A light, ethereal voice floated through her head. You made a promise to her, little girl. And don't you dare break my friend's heart.

She fell to the ground as the tree unwove itself at the gentle request of the voice. Picking herself up off the ivy, the young girl stumbled her way into a head-long run for home.

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