13 comments/ 43243 views/ 17 favorites Faerie Queen By: jack_straw It was a warm night, unusually warm for the high country of Virginia, and there was no chance of rain, so I had chosen not to pitch my tent. I simply laid my groundcloth on a bed of pine needles, nailed it down, and unrolled my sleeping bag under the open air. Truth is, I was too worn out to fool with the tent. I was not quite halfway toward achieving my dream of hiking the Appalachian Trail, and I was beginning to despair that I wouldn't make it. I have been a hiker all of my life, since I was in Boy Scouts as a youngster, and I thought I was someone who could tackle the Trail, some 2,100 miles of well-worn paths that wind from Georgia to Maine across the spine of the eastern United States. Hell, I'd hiked the Cimarron Trail at the Philmont Scout Ranch in New Mexico when I was 15, and that's a difficult task that carries you above 11,000 feet in the Rocky Mountains. Since then, I've hiked all of the trails around my home state, done the Boundary Waters trip in northern Minnesota and Canada, backpacked in Yosemite and camped in hundreds of places across North America. So I thought I was prepared for the Appalachian Trail, but the relentless terrain, mountains on top of mountains, had about sapped me. I thought I'd passed a major hurdle by getting past Clingman's Dome in the Smoky Mountain National Park without it affecting me, only to discover more mountains through western Virginia. Now I was in the Blue Ridge Mountains, and I knew I still had a brush with the Poconos in Pennsylvania, the White Mountains in New Hampshire and the difficult landscape near the end in Maine. I had gotten off the trail back at Roanoke, several days earlier, to rest and regather my strength, but after the second day back on the trail the fatigue and aching muscles returned with a vengeance. My feet were sore, and my back ached constantly. I now realized that allowing myself two days of sleeping in a real bed, rather than on the ground, as I had been doing while on the trail, had been a mistake. I had hardly slept the first night after I resumed my hike, tossing and turning from some little root that was sticking up from the ground, or from a ridge of earth itself. That day's hike had been particularly arduous, with a lot of hilly, rocky climbs through some thick woods. It was still mid-afternoon when I saw the clearing off the side of the trail. I checked it out and decided it would be good for my campsite. There was shade all around, but the clearing itself was open to the air. There was a small creek nearby where I could get water for cooking, plus the sound of the flowing stream over the rocks was quite soothing. The area where I laid out my pallet was grassy, and I'd found plenty of pine straw to make a reasonably soft place to lay down. As the sun dipped into the west, I'd laid down for a nap, and had actually gotten a nice bit of rest. As I lay back on top of my sleeping bag, my head on the small camp pillow, I had some intensely erotic thoughts. When I was home, I had no trouble finding girlfriends, but I'd ended a potentially promising relationship right before I'd left for Georgia to start my hike. There was no sense keeping her on the line when I was going to be gone for several months. I'd encountered a few women on the trail, but nothing had happened with them, and I had been too beat in Roanoke to try to pick up anybody. I had jacked off a couple of times while I was there, and that had helped me relax some, but I hadn't done anything since I'd been back out. After getting back up, I'd built a small fire, then I'd gotten my small camp stove set up and fixed me something to eat. I had some freeze-dried vegetables that I fixed in the small pot, and I boiled some water in my larger pot over the fire to cook some pasta. I had a small rack/grill that I could set the pot on to heat my water, once I got the fire banked down to hot coals. Once my meal was finished, dusk was fast approaching, so I hurriedly went to the creek to draw some water to clean my things before complete darkness fell. After I had everything cleaned and put away, I sat back and listened to the small radio I'd brought along. It was extra weight that I probably could have done without, but I felt like I needed some tenuous link to civilization, so I'd brought it along, and I was glad I did. In this remote area, deep in the Shenandoah National Park, however, there wasn't much to choose from. The musical selections were mostly country or pop, neither of which I can stand, so I opted for a baseball game. It wasn't until I heard the announcer talk about it that I realized that it was the first day of summer, and I also noticed that the moon had come up right at sunset. It rose over the nearby mountain fat and orange, a huge perfect circle. As the cold orb slowly climbed in the sky, I thought about how odd it was that the summer solstice should also be the night of a full moon. I've been around the outdoors enough to know the cycles of the sun, moon and earth, and I knew that it was only by a quirk of timing that the full moon and the solstice should fall on the same day. I chuckled, then, when the intro to one of the innings in the baseball game, coming out of the commercial break, was Creedence's "Bad Moon Rising." My fire had about played out, and I could feel weariness seeping into my bones, so I shut off the radio, turned out the small lantern and crawled into my sleeping bag. Sleep was elusive, however, and I was kicking myself for not setting up the tent, because the bright light of the moon in the cloudless sky was making it hard to fall asleep. But it was too late for that, so I tried to will myself to sleep, and I guess I succeeded. I'm not sure what woke me up. I just got a sense of ... not dread so much, but more a feeling of oddness. I looked up at the moon, and noticed that it was still not quite on top of me, so it was probably a little before midnight. As my senses became more alert, I thought I heard sounds coming from the surrounding woods, almost like an insistent whispering. And even as I did, I saw a strange cloud pass over the moon, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I quickly noticed that there seemed to be a weird fog surrounding my campsite. It wasn't a heavy fog, but it was almost wispy, like tendrils of smoke from a fire that was some distance away. I felt a sense of panic, because the weather had been very dry in recent days, and there was the threat of forest fires. I had been very cognizant of that fact when I'd built my small fire, making sure I kept it small and kept it inside the ring of rocks I'd set up. I looked over at the fire, but the coals were almost completely ashen, and I couldn't smell wood smoke, so I was puzzled at this strange vapor that seemed to have enveloped the area. Suddenly, I got a real sense that I wasn't alone, and sure enough, out of the mist a figure emerged. My mouth went dry as it stepped into the clearing, just as the clouds dissipated and the moon shone brightly. The figure was a woman, and not just any woman, either. She was tall and slender, with long raven hair that fell almost to her waist. She had piercing blue eyes, an unobtrusive nose and full, red lips, all set perfectly in the face that could have been looking out from a fashion magazine. She was dressed in a thin white dress that fell almost to the ground, but it dipped quite low on her chest, giving just a hint of a perfect set of breasts. I could just see the darkness of a brown pair of nipples, and as she walked seductively toward me, I could also see the hint of darkness at the juncture of her legs. Around one shoulder, she carried a small pouch made of a white material inlaid with silver beads in an arcane pattern. I'm sure my mouth was gaping, and I could see an enigmatic smile on her face as she stopped at the foot of my pallet. I sat up then, letting the sleeping bag fall off of me. "Who ... Who are you?" I stammered. "How did you get here?" "Oh, I've been ... around," she said in a voice that sounded like the tones of a dulcimer. She had a rather unusual accent, not quite British, not quite Irish, not quite Southern, but a kind of a mélange of accents that was quite unlike anything I'd ever heard. And there was a twinkling laughter in her voice that seemed to put me at ease. "But ... I mean, where are you staying?" I asked again. "Where did you come from?" "You ask too many questions, Blake," she said. "I am from the night." "But..." I started, but she put a finger to her lips and shushed me. I felt a little trickle of fear that she was something dangerous, although I couldn't see danger in her sparkling eyes and laughing lips. "Relax," she whispered. "I mean you no harm." As she spoke, she pulled the pouch off and laid it aside, then reached to the front of her dress and untied a knot that I hadn't seen before. When it was open, and I could see the heaving swell of her bosom, she seemed to shrug her shoulders and the dress fell to the ground in a white pool. I stared then, because the naked vision in front of me was that of a goddess. Her breasts were plump and round, but in direct proportion to the rest of her body, and capped by round areolas the approximate size of a quarter. Her waist was slim, her stomach flat, her legs long and tapered. And at the place where those legs met was a thick tangle of dark hair from which sprouted a perfect set of fleshy labia. Her skin was perfect, the color of fine porcelain. She slowly stepped forward, then knelt over me, and she seemed to hover as she offered me her mouth. I looked deep in her eyes and felt myself falling to a kind of blue void. I shrank back for a moment in fear. This was way beyond the realm of the norm, and I actually had a vision of her sinking fangs into my neck. As if reading my mind, she smiled, baring her teeth, and they were perfect, with the canines blunt like the rest of her teeth. "You have nothing to fear from me," she said. I was in a daze as she deftly pulled the top of my sleeping bag away, exposing me to the night air. I was wearing a pair of gym shorts and a T-shirt, and the shorts were tenting up with my hard cock. "I have been following you for awhile," she said. "I can help you in your quest, if you will help me." "Help you how?" I said. "Let yourself go," she said softly. "Relax, and let me love you." Truth be known, I was hard as a rock, and I jerked as her hand delved into my shorts and caressed my cock. She softly jacked my throbbing meat, as she again lowered her face, offering me her mouth, and this time we kissed. As we did, I could hear a distinct sibilant sigh from the surrounding woods, as if we had an audience. Her mouth was warm and inviting, and her tongue insistent as it played in the inside of my mouth. Breaking the kiss, she reached down and pulled my T-shirt off and tossed it aside, then she reached down further and pulled the strong on my shorts, tugged them down and slid them off my legs. They too joined my shirt on the ground by my pallet. Her right hand resumed softly stroking my cock, and one of her fingers languidly circled the tip, spreading the flow of pre-cum over the crown. I was completely lost in her spell as she straddled my hips. I stared in lust at the pink hole that now winked open between the forest of curls at her crotch. Then I gasped as I felt the head of my cock enter her wet canal. She slowly slid her hot pussy down on my turgid cock until I was completely engulfed in her wetness. Once I was securely slotted in her cunt, she lifted her hips slowly, then slid back down – up and down, up and down – she began to get into a slow, sensual rhythm that was like nothing I'd ever felt before. I'd had a lot of women, but I'd never had a feeling like that, the way her vagina squeezed me powerfully, the way her wetness seemed to cocoon me in her grip. Her eyes were closed in mounting passion, and her tongue worked at her lips. I could hear her mumbling something, but I couldn't understand what she was saying. However, it sounded like some kind of sexual chant, in a language I'd never heard before. Suddenly, she threw her head back in rapture, and I was startled to see that her ears were pointed in an unnatural fashion. They were a little like Vulcan ears on Star Trek, though not as pronounced. But I was too far-gone in lust to say or do anything about it. I was pumping my hips up into the woman's clenching cunt, happily fucking the best pussy of my life, straining to hold back the tide of cum that was ready to fill her up. And I could tell that she was about ready for me to do it, because her motions were getting much jerkier and her cries of lust much more pronounced. Her hands were firmly attached to my sides as she worked herself up and down on my dick. Her body – and mine – were covered in a fine sheen of sweat as we hurtled to the finish. I was so concentrating on my pleasure that I didn't react when I suddenly saw thin gossamer wings flutter out of her shoulder blades. They were twitching as her body was shaking in her climax. The woman's chanting grew louder, and now there was no question that she was speaking in a language that was completely alien to mine or any other man's ears. I wasn't sure what manner of creature I was fucking, and at that point I really didn't care. As her orgasmic cries grew more pronounced, I felt the crackle of my own climax as it ignited in my scrotum, and with a gasping grunt, I lurched up hard one final time and surrendered a tremendous cumload. We jerked and thrashed together as we hurtled along on the flood of our mutual orgasm. I was laughing insanely at the beauty of what I'd just experienced, and in some dim recess of my mind, I was prepared to die, if she was in fact a vampiress. I figured, hey, what a way to go. But she didn't do anything other than flutter her eyes, then smile broadly as she lay her sweaty body prone onto mine and we kissed with the hot smoldering passion of lovers in the afterglow of lust. I just lay back and enveloped her in my arms, and softly ran my hands over her wings, then felt them as they folded in on themselves and seemed to disappear. My cock finally deflated after I was finished firing afterbursts of cum deep into her womb, long after the initial rush had passed. At last, she opened her eyes and seemed to come to herself, and she rolled off my body onto her side. She propped her head on her left hand and used the index finger of her right hand to trace intricate patterns on my chest. "I am sure you have many questions," she said. "I will answer as truthfully as I can." "OK, for starters, who ... what are you?" I asked. "It's pretty obvious that you aren't exactly human. Am I dreaming all of this, or what?" "No, this is not a dream," she answered softly. "I am real, as real as you. You are very awake, very aware, and I am not a figment of your imagination." Something was nagging at the back of my mind, something she'd said earlier, and then it hit me. "How did you know my name?" I asked. "Oh, I know all about you, Blake," the woman said. "Once you were spotted entering my realm, once it became obvious that you would be here at the appropriate time, I made it my business to find out all I could about you." "But how?" I asked, trying to make sense of this. "Oh, I have my ways," she said. "Let me explain what is happening." "I wish you would," I said. "My name is Maeve, and I am the faerie queen in this area," she said. "As you said, I am not exactly human, but I'm not exactly not human either." "What in the hell does..." I started, but she silenced me sternly. "Speak not of that place!" she said, in a suddenly commanding voice. "Not on this night." "What?" I said. "I am a faerie, half human and half elven," she said. "And we are purveyors of white magic. That ... other place, it is the home of wickedness and evil, and it is our constant duty to fight against it." I was fascinated by the way she said the word, "faerie," not fairy. "You call yourself a FAY-ree, rather than a fa-REE," I said, exaggerating the dominant syllable of the two words. "What's the difference?" "I think you know," she said with a smile. "Faeries are beings like me, creatures of the wild, keepers of the woodland secrets. Fairies are ... well, they are what your world calls men who aren't men, if you catch my meaning." I laughed then, at the knowledge that a little homophobia existed even in the spirit world. But that still didn't explain what Maeve was or why she was here. I was quickly enlightened. "Faeries usually exist in another dimension, as you call it, what you might refer to as the fourth dimension," Maeve said. "We live, breathe, eat, drink, sleep, laugh, and cry all in a world you can't see. We don't measure time the way you do, but we do age. Slowly, yes, but we do grow old, and we do have the need to reproduce. The problem is that faeries are all female, so the only way we can be gotten with child is to mate with a suitable human, and the only way we can do that is to assume a human form. But it takes a certain particular set of circumstances for that to happen. I believe you were on the track of what those circumstances are before you retired." "I don't understand," I said. I had a glimmering of an idea forming, but I couldn't put my finger on it. "What is tonight?" Maeve said, and suddenly it hit me. "The summer solstice!" I cried. "And?" she continued. "The full moon," I said softly. "Precisely," she said. "Only when the moon, the sun and the earth are in perfect alignment are the conditions right for us to assume the form that allows us to mate. It is an event that we anticipate with great eagerness in the spirit realm, and all of my subjects, my helpers if you will, are in a state of high anticipation that I will be given an heir to my queendom." "But why me?" I said. "What do I have that led you to select me." "Why, you are here," Maeve said. "The mating of a faerie with a human is a thing of chance, of having a man of breeding age pass within their realm on the appointed night. Many of my friends in other parts of the world are having to settle for those who are much less than you. But they have no choice; they must take advantage of the opportunity where it exists. Those realms will be weaker and much more vulnerable to attacks from the dark side. Midsummer Night is our time. However, Midwinter Night? That is not a night you want to be caught outdoors in a wild place. That is when our alter egos, the valkyries – the spirits of death – find their mates and breed their kind. After tonight, you will resume your life, but those who mate with the valkyries never survive the encounter. They are the ones you find in the woods frozen to death." I could swear I saw a brief shudder pass Maeve's body. "What happens to you during the winter?" I asked. "Oh, if we have prepared well, we are safely in hibernation," Maeve said. "Our time of undisputed rule begins on May Day and continues until the autumn equinox. From then until All Hallow's Eve, we prepare, and occasionally battle the awakening spirits of our foes. Faeries who are out after All Hallow's do not usually survive. After the spring equinox until May Day, the process works in reverse. That has been the cycle of life in our world for thousands of generations. And, with woodlands slowly disappearing, and fewer humans about in our realms, it becomes much more important to mate when we can, if we can, for there are many faeries who sit alone on this night, seeking one who does not come. Each time a full-moon solstice passes without a faerie mating, she becomes a little older and less able to reproduce." "I'm rather overwhelmed," I said. "So, by a quirk of luck, I was in the right place at the right time to ... give you a baby?" Faerie Queen "Indeed," Maeve said. "And I believe you have given me a child that will grow to become great in our world. You have a strong heart, a good soul and the spirit of a dreamer. Those are all the best qualities for a powerful faerie queen. My father was very much like you, so I was told. If your daughter becomes the faerie I expect, your name will be highly honored among our kind." For some reason, that filled me with some melancholy. I had apparently produced a child, a child I'd probably never see. Maeve seemed to sense my feelings because she leaned over and softly kissed my forehead and caressed my neck. "Oh, you will see her," she said. "Perhaps not in the flesh, but you will see her in your dreams, and you will be blessed with strong progeny of your own, with a woman of your own kind. And soon, I think." "What are you talking about?" I said, genuinely puzzled. "You left a woman behind when you embarked on this quest, did you not?" she said. "Um, not really," I said. "I mean, I had a girlfriend back home I liked a lot, but we broke it off right before I left." I explained about my ex-girlfriend, Mary, and how I didn't want to keep her on a string while I was gone. Maeve just laughed that crystalline laugh I'd already come to love. "I think if you contact her, write her a letter, give her a call, you will discover that she's waiting for you," Maeve said. "Well then, should I go to her now?" I said, confused. "Of course not," Maeve said. "You have a dream to fulfill, and I am going to help you achieve it. Roll over onto your stomach. It's time to give you strength." I did as I was bidden. I looked back to see Maeve reach into her white pouch. I couldn't see what she scooped out of it, but I thought I caught a glimpse of something sparkling in the moonlight. "Close you eyes and relax," Maeve whispered. Again, I did as I was told, and I felt Maeve's soft hands caressing me from my neck, over my shoulders and down my back. As she massaged me, I felt the most incredible feeling of well-being flow through me. My sore muscles seemed to relax, the knottiness seemed to smooth out. She scooped out more of whatever it was she was working into my skin, and used it over my buttocks, the backs of my thighs, down my calves, even to my sore and chapped feet. As she worked her hands over me, she whispered a chant in that same alien language she'd used earlier. Then she turned me onto my back and repeated the process, working her hands down my chest, my stomach, over my abdomen, my thighs and down again to my feet. After she had massaged every part of me except my cock, she brushed her fingers over my temples and down my cheeks, then worked her way down my arms, finishing by sensually caressing my fingers. I had never felt anything like it, and I was consumed with renewed passion. My cock was bursting, throbbing hard again, and it was bouncing off my abdomen in abject lust. I reached up and filled my hands with Maeve's pendulous breasts, softly feeling the milky skin of her flesh and lightly squeezing her rocky nipples. Maeve smiled, almost – dare I say? – devilishly, and her eyes had a lustful gleam. Reluctantly, I let her pull her breasts from my grasp as she moved down between my legs. We stared at each other, communicating wordlessly as she took my hard cock in hand and brought her lips close to the head. I felt her warm breath on the angry red flesh, and felt a slight coolness where it came into contact with the well of pre-cum at the tip. I groaned then as she let the head of my cock pass her lips and she drew me into her mouth. She sucked half of my cock in, until the head hit the entrance to her throat. She worked me up and down, up and down, and I could feel the cum rising like sap from the work of her mouth. As good as it felt, though, I wanted more. I sensed that our time was growing short, and I wanted to give Maeve as much pleasure as she was giving me. I gently pried her mouth off my cock, and she looked at me hotly as I got up off my pallet and maneuvered her onto her back. "It's my turn to please you," I whispered, and as I did, I slid between her legs and pressed my face to her bubbling cunt. Her labia were a dark pink color, almost red, and her thick bush gleamed with the juice of her arousal. I inhaled her musky aroma, the powerful scent of womanhood. So many things I didn't understand, but one thing I did understand was the union between male and female, and a love that could only bloom for a short time. I clamped my mouth onto Maeve's creamy pussy, and slid my tongue into her groove, tasting her tartness. I worked my lips, my tongue, even my teeth on her crotch. I sucked her labia with my lips, bored my tongue into her vagina and used my teeth to nip at her clit, and I was rewarded by the writhing of Maeve's body as a climax of huge proportions built up steam. "Ohhhhh, pleeeeease," she whispered. And again, she spoke in the language that I now knew was the tongue of her race. Suddenly, her whole body seemed to tense and her breath caught for just a second, then she groaned heavily as the orgasm hit her full-force. She thrashed on the pallet, her sweat-covered body gleaming in the moonlight. Looking up from Maeve's crotch, I must have been hallucinating, because I thought I saw, right at the edge of my campsite, and crowd of beings, young faeries perhaps, or possibly wood nymphs. I'd never be sure. And when I blinked again, the images were gone. I looked down at Maeve again, and the look in her eyes sent a shiver of lust through my body. She stared in absolute passion as I got up on my knees between her legs, pressed the throbbing head of my cock to her open, waiting pussy and drove it in hard. I heard the breath being forced out of Maeve's lungs from the power of my assault. I bent down and gathered her in my arms and we kissed again, hot and hard, while my cock quickly picked up speed in her powerful pussy. It was like we were in a dream, floating on wings of lust as I fucked my faerie queen with everything I had. Maeve's legs were wrapped around my back as she moved powerfully under me, urging me on in her strange language. I was firmly in control, though, and I kept my pace measured, and soon my patience was rewarded as she threw her head back and exploded again in orgasm, her body twitching and jerking as her lust consumed her. I really lost track of time; it just seemed like I could go on forever, but I knew eventually I'd have to finish. And, I could feel the tingle that told me I was about to explode in a righteous climax. Getting up on my knees, I drove my cock powerfully back and forth in her spastic cunt. I pulled almost all the way out, then plunged all the way in. As I repeated that process several times, I latched onto her slippery tits for leverage. Faster and harder, I fucked Maeve liked I'd never fucked a woman before. Sweat stung my eyes as I felt the hard sizzle of my orgasm as it boiled over. Maeve's eyes were squeezed shut as another, final climax washed over her body. With a final gasp of passion, I leaned over Maeve's body, plunged balls deep and released a torrent of hot cum deep in her pussy. I emptied myself of everything I had left in my body, giving her my all in great jerking thrusts. Our arms and legs clutched at each other as we slowly floated back to consciousness from the remarkable passion we'd just shared. Finally, I looked deep in Maeve's eyes, which had a dreamy cast to them. I knew her time on earth was about over. But then her eyes cleared one last time, and she looked into my eyes. "You will have a long, happy life," she said. "So I only ask one favor of you." "What's that, darling?" I said, as a weariness began to cover my body. "You will have a daughter, and when you do, name her after me," Maeve said. "You have been so much more than I could have ever expected of a man, and I want you to remember me as more than just a flight of fancy, remember our time together as more than just one night of passion. You have given me and my kind a great and wonderful gift, the gift of another generation. And you have given me the gift of pleasure, the knowledge of passion without bounds. It will sustain me for the rest of my time. For that, I cannot thank you enough." "I love you, Maeve, and I'll never forget you," I said, and I could feel hot tears forming in my eyes. Maeve gently rolled me onto my back, her body still covering mine. Again her lips gently caressed my forehead, and I could feel her fingers softly massaging my temples. As she did, I could feel her own teardrops falling on my cheeks "Goodbye, Blake," she whispered. "I love you." Just about the time I drifted into a deep sleep, I felt her lips on mine and she kissed me deeply, passionately. The next thing I knew, I could feel the hot rays of sunrise hitting my face, and I awoke with a start. At first, I wasn't sure if I had dreamed the previous night's encounter. I mean, it was so crazy that it couldn't have been real. But then I realized that I was lying naked on the open pallet, with my shorts and T-shirt lying just where Maeve had tossed them when she took them off of me. And my cock definitely had that feeling of having been drained in a most satisfactory way. I reached down between my legs, and, sure enough, I could feel the crust of commingled orgasm on my shaft. I lay back on my pillow and smiled. It was a sad smile, but it was a smile. "Goodbye, Maeve," I said softly. "May the four winds blow you safely home." I got up then, and I couldn't believe how good I felt. It was like I'd drunk deeply of some fountain of rejuvenation. My muscles weren't sore, and my soul was soaring. I did a quick cleaning with the soapless bath that I'd brought along, the stuff hospitals use to bathe bedridden patients. Then I dressed, had a quick breakfast, packed my gear and set back out on the trail with renewed determination. Of course, there were still some difficult stretches over the next few weeks, but every time things got tough, I remembered Maeve and the inspiration she'd given me. The next time I got to a place where I could take a day or so off the trail, I called Mary back home. To my surprise, she was delighted to hear from me, told me she missed me and she'd been thinking about me, "just about all the time." When I reached the end of my hike, at Mt. Katahdin in Maine, Mary was there to meet me, she drove us back to Bangor, and we flew home together from there. Once we got home, our relationship deepened, and on Midsummer Night, a year to the day – well, night, actually – after my encounter with Maeve in Shenandoah, I took Mary as my wife. Exactly a year after that, she gave birth to our first child, a girl that we named Maeve. I've never told anyone about my Midsummer Night's encounter with Maeve, but Mary always looks at me funny when I call our daughter my little faerie queen.