Author's Note: Okay, so I usually TRY to make my stories in-character, or at least line up events to make the story believable. Not so much on this one. Be prepared for some OOC action.

You can blame/thank Kyonomiko for this fic that I had absolutely no intention of writing before she posted her latest Dramione and pointed me in the direction of some other fabulous HP authors.

This story is predominantly M/F (Cedfia), but there are some quick mentions and allusions to M/M, F/F and a few combinations of all of the above. Also, be prepared for some bondage, and some pretty unrealistic, fantasy level sex. :P Also, religion-wise, I played fast and loose with the traditions surrounding Beltane.

As always, I own nothing, and Sofia is always proper, grown adult age.

Revelry: Chapter One

"Moving together or elegantly reclined, they watched Sarah, or watched each other watching, and beneath the masks the mouths smiled at each other like knives."

-from Labyrinth: The Novelization by A.C.H. Smith

"Password."

The witch smiled, a confident smirk stretching her red lacquered lips. Behind her shoulder her blond friend tried not to fidget under the weight of the doorman's direct and vaguely suspicious glare. "Hecate's hearth warms all."

The peep hole slid closed. For a tense moment there was nothing but silence, then the heavy slide of a bolt being drawn open before the door swung inward. The large, well muscled behemoth of a doorman waved them inside with an elegant bow, the graceful gesture at odds with his bulky frame. His oiled chest and thighs glistened in the shifting torch light, covered as little as he was in only a ragged loin cloth and mask of pheasant feathers.

The witch tossed him a saucy wink as she passed. Her companion simply tried not to stare as she shuffled into the foyer of the famed Burgundy Rose, the wealthiest inn in five kingdoms. "See," Lucinda whispered out of the side of her mouth, "I told you there'd be no trouble."

Sofia's fingers went up to her ear out of habit, intent to sweep her hair back before she remembered that her naturally wavy auburn locks were currently enchanted as part of her disguise. She surveyed their surroundings from behind a mask of black satin as they waded deeper into the room. Worried that her simple glamour spells wouldn't be enough to hide her true identity, she peered into a mirror hanging over the ornate fireplace across the foyer. A virtual stranger stared back. Platinum blond hair framed her face, tightened to corkscrew curls that just brushed her shoulders. The color set off her own blue eyes, complimenting the ebony pearls studding her mask and the glossy raven feathers sweeping back across her temples. Thick shimmering makeup covered her lids, heavy lines of rich kohl rimming her eyes. Rouge brightened her cheeks and lips, the entire effect enchanted to hold its place all night. She smoothed nervous hands down her bright blue bodice and scandalously short skirt.

"Stop tugging at your costume, you look amazing."

"I don't know, Luce," she whispered, her voice rolling out in a surprising purr that she still couldn't get used to. The vowels rolled off her tongue, the consonants sharp on a posh Freezenburg accent. In truth, only her hair and voice had been changed, the rest of her disguise resting on the sheer incredulity that she would ever appear in public dressed in such a way, and at a venue like this. "What if someone recognizes me?"

"What did I tell you? Hiding in plain sight is the best disguise. No one is expecting the princess of Enchancia to show up to a debouched pagan revelry, so no one will suspect it's you. Besides, a little deception is expected on a night like tonight. Everyone here wants their secrets kept, they'll be too busy hiding theirs to try to uncover yours."

A flutter of nerves still jangled her stomach as she looked about. The hotel had been transformed for the occasion, apparently. Sofia had never been there before, but she suspected it wasn't always so dimly lit, or had so many curtained off doorways. Red velvet drapes framed every portal from ceiling to floor, sectioning off the rest of the rooms beyond the entry way. At the front desk an impossibly beautiful young man with effeminate features and bare chest greeted guests, though no one seemed to be checking it. Around his neck hung a strange bit of jewelry that Sofia suspected was supposed to resemble a collar. It looked startlingly functional from the metal ring attached to the front. The weight of where she was descended upon her suddenly, prickling along her skin in a close approximation of panic.

Two days ago when Lucinda announced that she'd uncovered this year's secret location for the famed Beltane Revelry, Sofia had been justifiably intrigued. Tales had whispered among her peers for years about the supposed debauchery that took place at the ultra selective and secretive celebration of fertility. When the witch begged Sofia to accompany her, her capitulation rested only partially in obligation to a friend. She had to admit, she was curious.

Her parents thought she was spending the holiday as she had last year, in the company of Lucinda's coven. Marla, Lucinda's mom, thought they were at the castle, opting out of this year's celebration. The deception was unfortunately necessary. Sofia hated lying to her parents, but her feeling about helping a friend in need had superseded her conscience in this instance.

Previously, she'd always celebrated Beltane in the most innocence ways. In years past, she enjoyed the festivities of the village, eating fairy cakes drizzled with honey or dancing around the May pole. As she came of age, other aspects of the meaning of Beltane began to penetrate her childish perception if the spring holiday. At nineteen, she was well aware of its true purpose . Not just an excuse to dance in the town square or as a marker for farmers to drive their herds out to pasture, now she understood the earthy, sexual elements that made Beltane a fertility rite.

Choosing to attend the witches' coven last year had been understandably opposed by her parents at first. As a princess, Sofia's virtue was somewhat more closely guarded than the average village girl. Though, with her recent refusal to marry, declaring a desire to be like her favorite aunt, her romantic future lay in somewhat murky territory. Aunt Tilly hadn't remained chaste until marriage, a question she'd answered with her customary candor when Sofia worked up the courage to ask..

Still, her mother had wrung her hands at the idea of letting Sofia attend the Beltane bonfires, and the king had done all but outright refuse. Only Marla's assurance that both young woman would be under her watchful care, surrounded by a coven of women who held a woman's virtue and, most especially, her consent sacred, had the royal couple finally relented, but not without a strict curfew. As promised, Sofia had returned home untouched, having spent the evening engaged in nothing more salacious than drinking a cup of mulled wine and flirting mildly with the blushing teenage son of one of the elder witches. Honestly, other than an understandable curiosity, she had no real desire to disappear into the woods with a random stranger to lose her maidenhead. Neither did Lucinda, but for different reasons.

This year her parents allowed greater freedom, allowing her to sleep over at her witch friend's house, trusting Sofia's judgment. In truth, as a grown woman, free and unattached, they had little power over her decisions when it came to her body. She appreciated their parental concern, but believed it misplaced; she had no intention of giving herself to anyone this night, or any other anytime soon. She didn't want to wait for marriage, but she did want her first time to be with someone she cared for, not a hasty fumble in the woods, or a shady alcove. She was here because Lucinda asked, begged, Sofia to accompany her.

"It's a bit tamer than I expected," Lucinda muttered, looking all about while trying not to appear overly gauche about it. She checked her own reflection, adjusting the mask of red silk and black feathers. Her green eyes sparkled and her hair, drawn up in elaborate coils, looked very fetching. Unlike the princess, she had no need of a disguise beyond the obligatory masquerade mask and elaborate dress. A witch at Beltane wasn't something of note. "I don't see anyone we know, but that doesn't mean much. Almost everyone wears some kind of disguise to this I've been told."

"I thought Ravena was supposed to meet you. How will you recognize her?"

Now it was the witch's turn to fiddle with her dress. "She said she wouldn't change her appearance magically, just wear a costume like everyone else. Oh, Sof— I mean Daphne, am I stupid for coming here?"

Sofia grasp onto her pseudonym like a lifeline. Tonight she wasn't Sofia, nervous princess reeking with inexperience, she was Daphne, a yet undecided character. "If you are, then I certainly am."

"Thanks again, by the way," the girl's green eyes softened with earnestness. "I never would have worked up the courage to speak to her if it weren't for you."

Sofia smiled, knowing how difficult this had been for her friend, discovering her budding, and in their small village, unorthodox sexuality. One of the reasons Lucinda was avoiding Beltane with the other witches was because they considered it a sacred holiday, symbolizing the joining of the Goddess and God, of woman and man. Marla clung to her pagan identity, a bit too traditional in some aspects. Love was love as far as most were concerned, but the older witch couldn't seem to grasp why her daughter had no wish to be joined to a man on the first night of May. "Have you talked to your mom yet?"

"I will. Soon. I promise. I just, couldn't yet. Not today. She takes Beltane so seriously. So literally."

Sofia frowned with consideration. Marla would come around, she hoped. And once her mother approved, no matter how tastily, Lucinda could feel freer to be herself with others too. As of yet, the princess was the only one privy to her secret.

"Beautiful place," Sofia said, trying for some semblance of natural conversation amidst the fantastical glitter of the party. Magic trailed off almost every guest, heady and intoxicating, weighting the air like cloying perfume. A pretty brunette strolled past, her hair pulled into a high sleek pony tail. Enchanted gossamer wings fluttered from her bare shoulders. Her dress dipped scandalously low between her breasts, and equally shockingly high at the hem. Sofia wasn't sure where to look, each guest drawing her attention, making her want to stare with slack-jawed curiosity. This certainly wasn't the type of tight laced, high necked soiree she was used to.

"Lucinda?" A breathy, nervous voice made Sofia turn. A young woman with caramel colored skin, decked in deep purple satin stood behind them. Her chestnut hair was drawn up, a mask edged in black lace framing her deep chocolate eyes. She smiled at the witch, but her smile dimmed when her gaze slid over Sofia, looking her up and down, frowning. "Um, hello?"

"Ravena," Lucinda waved before motioning towards Sofia with the same hand, "This is my ..."

"Cousin," Sofia stepped in, hoping that creating a family tie between them would ease the other woman's initial distrust. "Daphne. I'm visiting from Freezenburg."

"Oh," the girl relaxed, an easy smile returning to her lips, "It's nice to meet you. So, how's the party so far?"

"It's a lot tamer than I expected," Lucinda answered, shrugging, "Other than a few skimpy outfits, I don't see the big deal."

The dark haired girl grinned, showing off a row a straight, white teeth. "It's early yet. Just wait."

"Have you been here before?" Sofia wondered, looking around again. Peopled milled as scantily clad servants circulated through, some carrying trays of food, others glasses of wine.

"Last year," she answered casually, snagging them three glasses from a passing waiter. "My family has an open invitation, being members of the magic haute ton. My parents haven't attended for years, thank the Goddess." Her pretty face pulled into grimace. "I don't even want to think about having to worry about running into them here. Ick."

Lucinda chuckled. "It doesn't seem that bad. Maybe a little awkward."

"Like I said," Ravena winked raising her glass in a mock toast, "Just wait. Since we're here, how about we look around? I've never been to this inn before."

"I thought you said you came last year?" Sofia asked as they began to move through the party.

"I said I came to the Revelry last year. It's never held in the same location twice. I'm not even sure who hosts it. Some say the Sorcery Triumvirate, some the Wizacoetus. My mum always assumed the Solestrine family footed the bill. All I know is it's by invitation only. Very selective."

"Thanks again for the invite," Lucinda ducked her head. "I'm not sure I could have handled another Beltane fending off questions about why I don't find a 'nice boy already'."

For the first time Ravena's aplomb slipped, a faint blush darkening her cheeks. "I'm just glad you came over to talk to me at the charmacy last week."

Sofia sipped the pale golden drink, mead instead of grape wine, as the two women started talking. She hug back, giving them as much privacy as she could afford, knowing her function lay predominantly as moral support. Lucinda had been afraid she'd be stood up, that Ravena wouldn't come. The witch had wrestled with her feelings, harboring a hopeless crush on Ravena, another witch from a larger coven based in the city. If she hadn't shown, Lucinda would have been crushed. Seeing as how that didn't happen, Sofia began to feel decidedly superfluous. The two seemed to be getting on well, especially given the relaxed atmosphere. Glancing around she watched as the guests move about with a sort of indolent brilliance, as if they had all night to dawdle. They eyed each other with undisguised hunger. Whenever a pair of those ravenous eyes raked over her, she looked hastily away.

There was a charge to the atmosphere, above and beyond the static hum of magic used to disguise each guest. There was something laced through the air, growing thicker the deeper they treaded past each curtained doorway. At first, she bristled wondering if some enchantment had been cast over the party, but she soon dismissed the idea, realizing the heady feeling was nothing more than good-old-fashion pheromones mixed with anticipation. Too many bodies in close proximity, and with the expectations that came naturally associated with Beltane. To put it simply, sex was in the air.

Sofia watched with a sort of detached fascination as a curvy woman with flowered headdress picked an hors d'oeuvre off a passing tray and held it out to the parted lips of another woman. She nibbled it down in long, sensuous licks, swallowing the treat before licking her lips and sucking the first woman's finger tips into her mouth. Sofia flushed, training her eyes on the more innocuous scenery of the walls.

A lovely pastoral painting hung on the parlor wall and she gave it her full attention, trying to appear inconspicuous. The artist had captured what she assumed was a hunt, as men in blazers rode on horseback across an open field. Their party was angled towards a distant wood and she had to squint to make out the tiny painted shapes among the trees. Shock rippled through her to realize the men were not after a fox or a boar, but a troop of women, flitting pale and naked among the trees, some bathing in the nearby stream, their painted nipples tiny brush strokes of coral.

As they moved from room to room, Sofia saw several more shocking tableaux. One painting depicted a Green Man crowned with the antlers of a stag. He bent his face over the throat of a pale woman wreathed with flowers. His hand cupped her naked breast and Sofia could see his phallus, thick and erect between them. It was shocking to her eyes, but not so much as the next painting that showed a similar couple, but this time the woman was on her knees. The Green Man poised behind her with his shaft in hand. A bonfire blazed behind him, showing a ring of onlookers, avidly awaiting their coupling.

A nervous heat flitted through her belly, making her want to examine the scene even as her conscience told her to turn away. Of course, she'd known Beltane was a fertility holiday, but she'd never been exposed to such blatant sensuality. On May Day's past couples went "a-Maying", as it was called, in the fields and woods, away from the village and in relative privacy. She'd heard tales that married couples even renounced their vows for the night, accepting lovers outside their marriage bed. The suggestion of such public and flagrant sexuality left her flushed with confusion. Sex wasn't such a forbidden topic among the Ton of the royal court, but it was always carefully couched in innuendo. Covered in flirtatious, flowery language that softened the idea to something romantic and furtive. It was a far cry from the earthy sensuality decorating these walls, or permeating the village festival; and it certainly bore little resemblance to the seductive, avaricious current flowing around her now.

Lost in thought, she looked up, realizing Lucinda and Ravena had moved on, nearly leaving her behind. She hurried after them, scurrying to keep up like a child afraid to be left out alone after dark. She did feel a bit like the jaws of some unseen beast were panting at her heels, ready to snap her up if she let her attention waver. Her throat felt dry, but she sipped the honeyed wine carefully, feeling she'd need her head about her in a place like this.

Ravena's words, or were they warning, repeated through her mind. It was early yet and Sofia trembled to think how the party would turn as the night wore on.

Author's Note: So again, this is a very bastardized version of Beltane, but that's kind of the point. The revelry isn't a reverent observance of tradition, but more an excuse to throw an Eyes-Wide-Shut-type orgy. As such, I'm playing very fast and loose with the traditions of Beltane, and folklore/mythology surrounding Spring celebrations.

I wanted to at least have the first chapter out before May 1st, or Beltane. Going to try for regular updates. Every other day if possible.

Reviews, Please! I love to hear your guys' thoughts, anecdotes, and general encouragements. Anything really. I just really, really love reviews. :D