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A Tale of Faerie

By: WickedWench13



High summer, around the solstice, when the sun dapples the ancient beechwoods until past nine o'clock up on the ridge above the farm. I was returning from evensong, taking a short cut along the ancient track that followed the ridge through these massy plants. The family had gone on before me, I had lingered to trim the family grave as was my habit. I walked slowly, revelling in the cooling air on my shoulders and forearms, guiltily lifting my heavy skirts higher than necessary for stepping over the roots across the pathway to allow some draught to my weary legs. My Sunday gown, the happy result of much patient stitching, was I thought the most becoming garment I had ever had; the fine pale yellow fabric had been costly, and Mama and I had cut it with care, piecing out the bodice and wide panels, lining and interlining them, making provision in the seams for some growth, for as Mama said although I was now sixteen and a woman shown, my slender waist might well expand somewhat and the generous flare of fabric over my hips would allow for motherhood. My arms were already shapely and strong, as befits a hardworking farmer's daughter, and my bosom was full and firm, although usually modestly covered by a kerchief. 

Tonight, however, I untucked the square of fine white muslin and wiped the sweat from my forehead , flapping the cloth to dry it and cool myself. 

My hair was coming loose from its pins, tumbling in rich red-brown curls down over my shoulders, merrily defying my attempts to confine it in a cap. 

I was contented, in that dreamy state of fatigue that follows a day of heat and activity, even though it had been devout Sabbath activity, and as I travelled the path I hummed to myself, jumping some of the larger roots as if I were a small girl again. I felt no fear at being alone up here - were these not my own playground from earliest childhood? These smooth, grey-green trunks had been my delight for as long as I could remember, holding up rafts of weightless, gem-green foliage high above my head, the hummocky ground between the great trees deep in crisp, rich brown leaves the same colour as my hair.

I knew every great statuesque being, loved them all, knew every badger hole and bird's nest, every path, and I knew well how the birds would call their alarm signal if any danger lurked. There were no warning calls, only the gentle evening song from far overhead.

Something caught the edge of my vision, some movement almost behind me, darting behind a great tree - I whirled, but there was nothing. I went on, a little faster, then heard a rustling behind me, a rushing breeze that stopped as I did, and again - nothing. I felt a quivering in my legs, and a strange throbbing in my chest - but walked on, breathing deeply and determined to show no fear. But my hands crept together handfuls of my skirts, ready to lift them and run for my life. There had been tales of strange things up in these woods, of course - always tales by the fireside, of things seen and not seen, heard and not heard, shadows as of man-sized birds but no sound. I kept my eyes on the path ahead, moving as swiftly as I dared, knowing it would be longer to retreat than to advance. I could see the golden evening sky through the edge of the trees. Then the rustle, the rushing breeze again, bearing a sweet spicy scent - and my path was blocked by a gigantic butterfly-winged creature, which hovered in the air before me. I froze in shock and stared, fixing the image in my mind for ever.

It had mighty wings, in span each over eight feet, butterfly shaped but in the most wonderful shimmering hues of blue, green and purple, like the most exotic silks. These were beating in very rapid,tiny movements, holding aloft a being shaped like a man, but of a strangeness and beauty that transfixed me. He was long-limbed, slender, with long straight black hair, deep green eyes set under slanting brows, a full-lipped mouth, and a body like the ancient statues at Milord's new pleasure garden - beautiful of proportion, muscular without being heavy, and the hairless skin was the same pale gleaming brown as new beech bark. He was clothed only in a little rag of brown, a pouch that seemed to be barely containing a massy manhood. I could not scream or even speak, my chest was heaving with shock and my legs close to giving way altogether. 

His expression was most curious, a look grave, tender, and yet proud and passionate. He drew closer to me and reached out one long, slender hand, and very lightly stroked my hair, my cheek, then trailed his cool fingers down my neck, throat, and lingered on the swell of my breasts.

'Beautiful' he murmured, a voice like the evening breeze through summer leaves, a sound oddly familiar to me. 'I choose you, earth maid. You will not see harm' 

He sank down until his feet were on the loam, and came up close to me. He was tall, even with his great wings folded he transfixed me with his eyes, so oddly not-human, yet familiar. I looked up at his face, dared not move; he took me in his arms, held me close, and bent his face towards mine, and his lips laid cool and beautiful on my hot, trembling mouth. I felt the power in him , felt most burningly the urgent, thrusting bulge at his loins as it pressed against my belly, making my legs tremble and sink beneath me.

He lowered me to the soft leafmould, still kissing me, his hands caressing my shoulders and breasts. I shuddered as his fingers found and loosened the fastenings of my bodice, and he pulled away my thin chemise, kissing and caressing my breasts as he freed them from coverings. I tried to move my hands, to push him off, but there was little will behind that and he easily prevented me. He caught one of my hands and guided it to his loins, and I gasped as my fingers felt the soft weight of his parts, and the great thrusting rod above them. It was futile to struggle or resist, and I fell to caressing him with trembling fervour as he raised my skirts to my waist, revealing my thighs and loins to his cool, delicate touch. He discovered me, pressing and parting my legs, his fingers finding my secret pleasure place and with his touch made me close to swooning with delight. He loomed above me, his thighs inside mine, and then laid down on top of me and with his hand guided his great rod until it was nudging at the door to my womb. I felt languid, flooded with hot, eager juices, my nipples hard and aching with arousal for his touch, longing for him to thrust and impale me - although I was a virgin, I had seen it often enough in the farmyard to know what was to come, and my insides were melting with delight.

A warning 'ack-ack-ack' from the treetops - humans approaching, heavy careless tread making the ground tremble with their weight! He pressed down on me, his hand over my mouth, his great wings spread out covering us both - I lay still, breathing in the scent of his manhood , feeling it still throbbing at the portals, and then slowly, slowly, as the men tramped by within feet of the hollow where we lay, he thrust into me, a massive filling of my eager, quivering womb. Had I made a sound we would surely have been discovered - and I wanted so to scream in ecstasy, to moan and wriggle, to give vent to this overpowering onslaught of delight! I lay still and silent, breathing as little as I could while Jem and Ham and the other men walked away, their heavy voices echoing through the trees as my fairy lover deflowered me in silence. He was rigid and still, so still, lying with his rod buried to the hilt in me, his whole body vibrating with the intensity of his lust - then very slowly, very deliberately, he withdrew from me, leaving me open and wet, hot and longing for him, my legs and parts spread open below him. 

I moaned softly in disappointment, and reached for his shoulders, to pull him back down onto, into me; he smiled and shook his head.

'No, maid. 'Tis too perilous here.' he sat beside me and pulled my skirts down, then reached out and fondled my aching breast. I raised my head, gasped at the sight of his rod, still massively erect - the largest tool I had seen on any beast save our horses or bulls, and it had been inside me... my insides churned again with longing and disappointment, and I wept in frustration.

'Come with me. I will carry you, you must be still and silent.'

He rose to his feet, raised me, then held me close in his arms, and bent his legs so that I sat astride his rod. 'Wrap your legs around me, hold tight. And close your eyes so ye be afeared' he murmured, and I obeyed. I felt him spring into the air, felt a rushing lifting , then opened my eyes a crack and glanced over his shoulder. Between the beating of his great wings, I saw the treetops below us - I buried my face in his shoulder and he laughed, his arms holding me tight.

I felt in no danger, though - he was so strong, his grasp so sure, that my fear left me, and I raised my head again and looked.

We were high above the treetops, moving swiftly through the warm evening air, rising still higher until the countryside below us was toy-sized. We were flying sunward, I saw the glittering ribbon of our river below, then the country in deep shadow, and knew we were heading toward the Great Woods, the ancient forest where all were forbidden to go but Milord. We sank down slowly towards an open glade, and landed softly on the grass, my lover lowering me gently down onto my back and rubbing my limbs where they had stiffened from their long embrace.

'Brave maid. Th'art as bold as th'art lovely' he murmured, then raised me to sitting, his arms around my shoulders as he held me close. His loin-rag had fallen off, discarded in the beechwoods, and I realised that I had left there my kerchief as well. A surge of conscience made my eyes prick.

'My father will worry - I will be late home'

He kissed me softly. 'Fear not, maid. I can return you to the place and instant of our meeting. You'll not be late.'

He took me there, in the open air, the shadows of evening advancing from the riverbank as we coupled.

It was glorious, a great sweeping overwhelming flood, and there I writhed and moaned as he impaled me, wrapped my thighs around his hips, feeling his buttocks tight, hard, pounding his rod deep into my eager womb. He moaned softly as he arched above me, then thrust deep, deep, fast and desperate into me, his seed spurting into my eager, flowering womb and mingling with my own juices. He sank down onto me, quivering and gasping, and I caressed him, stroking his broad shoulders and slender waist, feeling his smooth, cool body relaxing onto mine, the great alien wings soft and light,spread over us both. He kissed me gently on the mouth, then my breasts, then rolled away and sat up, gazing at me in the evening light. I felt shy, and closed my trembling legs, and he smiled and stroked up my thigh, his fingers dipping into that wet, deep cleft , then on up my belly until my gown prevented him.

'Th'art truly lovely, maid. Now sleep....'

My eyes closed, and I laid there warm and at ease, vaguely aware of other soft voices, of light, delicate touches on my person; my clothes were put to order and my gown re-fastened, and the skirts drawn down over my legs. Something soft and warm was laid over me, and I sank into a deep sleep, knowing nothing until a gentle kiss on my cheek roused me. I opened my eyes, saw my lover - and not my lover? - he was clad in the rough jerkin and shirt of a woodsman, no sign of his great wings, although the fey green eyes and russet skin were unchanged. The sun was still slanting through the woods - my woods - I was lying in the hollow where we had been before - and he raised me gently to my feet, then draped my kerchief around my shoulders, tucking it down over my bosom with sure, gentle fingers.

He smiled as I stared bemused at him.

''Tis well, maid, if ye know me not as fey. We tread these paths often and have watched ye these many years.'

He would have said more, but the jackdaw cried his warning, and one quick embrace, one light kiss on my mouth, and he was gone, running lightly across the leaf mould, as Jem and Ham came plodding heavily up the hillside, talking of the sheep shearing to come.

'Mistress Madlyn! Ye'll be late homing, lingering in the woods till sunset. Come, we'll see ye safe.'

I fell in with them and we made our way back home. 

I washed carefully before bed, as was my habit, and made sure nobody saw the blood-tinged water I threw out. I had wondered if anything had happened - had it been a fantasy? Or had I been ravished by a woodsman with the power to disguise himself as a faerie? My dreams that night were of floating naked in the cool night air, high above the valley, supported by my lover's impaling organ and his strong arms as we delighted in our union. Just before dawn, when the hilltops below us were tinged with rose and amber, he took me back to my chamber, climbing lightly through the open casement. So long as I held on to a part of him I was weightless and floated as easily as mist, and he lowered me to my bed, kissing and caressing me before drawing up the sheet over my glowing body and withdrawing himself reluctantly.

'Ah, sweet maid. 'Tis hard to leave ye, even for the space of one day. ' he whispered into my ear, and I kissed him hard on his beautiful mouth. He had to go - I could hear Jasper moving in his room and knew that dawn was close. 

It was a night of such delights, such freedom and soaring ecstasy, I did wonder if it had been dream or reality. But I slept a little at the end of my dream, and woke refreshed as if I had slumbered all night.

The days rolled past, full of the usual comfortable round of work for all; for me, learning to cook and manage the kitchen beside Mama, as well as learning about her herbs and how to tend them. She was teaching me all she knew herself of herb and healing lore, as befits a good country woman. We went one afternoon up to the beechwoods to gather rames, sovereign remedy for headache and bruising; we passed a group of woodsmen coppicing the lower slope, who greeted us courteously, and I blushed as I recognised my lover in their number. He looked broader of shoulder and taller than I knew him at night, but the slanting green eyes and night-black hair were his alone, and he smiled at me as I passed by.

Mama made no mention of the woodsmen until we were well out of earshot, and then she said only, 'be wary of such folk, Madlyn. 'Tis said that they have faerie blood in their veins, and can enchant a maid with their secret ways.'

My lover came to me that night and took me flying. I waited, gowned and shawled, at the open casement until he came, so that no creak of floorboard or movement might betray my leaving - he stretched out his hand, I took it, and instantly was floating , being drawn out into the night air. 

My gown and shawl I discarded presently, hanging them carefully over the top branches of a tree, and we soared naked and blissful up through the air, tumbling, delighting in the sensual freedom. My lover held me close as we floated, stroking my breasts and belly, kissing me fervently on every part. We coupled in mid-air, every thrust of his powerful thighs sending us soaring high above the hills, my moans and sighs lost in an immensity of night wind.

He took me to the sea shore, hovering just above the waves, feeling the cold spray sousing my nakedness, laughing and holding me tightly, playing on the sand and rolling in the waves, again and again becoming one as his rod and my womb burned with joyful longing for each other. He told me things, wonderful stories of ancient times, weaving word-pictures with his soft rippling voice, making me tremble as he described battles and peoples long since turned to dust, peoples he had known.

'And did you know their women also?' I asked, playfully, and he gave me a long sad look that dowsed my humour.

'Aye, my maid. I did. Many and many a maid did I know, and love, and delight in.'

He would say no more but I felt a chill from his tone, and wrapped myself the more fiercely around his lovemaking.

The days and weeks passed. I felt my body blooming into full womanhood, saw the courses of the moon come regularly, and wondered in passing that I did not conceive from my lover's attentions. I asked him that also, again that sad, long-lidded expression settled on his beautiful face.

'The seed of faerie sprouts not readily in earthly soil, maid. 'Tis rare indeed for one of your race to bear a child of our loins.'

'But it has happened?' I was curious, and he left off stroking my breast and belly, and held me close.

'Aye. It has happened, but that rarely. We dwindle as a people, our women are not easy childbearers.'

'I wish I could meet them, your people.' I said, and he kissed me then laughed.

'And think you that you have not? Tell me, maid, who are the woodsmen? Who tends Milord's fine forests and wild cattle? Who gathers herbs and makes simples for the ailments of man?'

'My mother does that' I said on impulse, and he became sober abruptly.

'Aye. Your mother does indeed. And with great skill. She is known amongst us as a wise woman.'

'She told me to beware the woodsmen, that they have skill in persuading maidens to their wiles' I said, watching his face with care. He looked long at me, considering and serious.

'Aye. She would so say. Think you that she might have reason, maid?'

I fought against the image of my mother being loved as this glorious creature was loving me, but it was beyond ignoring. Her insistence that I learn the healing ways, and her strange way of never asking me as she asked my sisters if I was a-courting, the look I had seen on her face sometimes of a-morning when I came downstairs after a night of aerial lovemaking - I knew now what my heart had long guessed.

'Was she also beloved by your people, by one such as you?' 

'Aye'. He turned away, plucking at the short cropped turf of the clifftop on which we lay.

'One such as you, or - '

'Me. Twas me, maid.' His tone was fierce as he grabbed my shoulders and pinned me back against the sward.

'Think you 'twas easy, to see her as maid, to love her and delight in her, then see her married to another sod-man? Then to have to leave off our loving, to know that she was longing for me, but was trapped in bed with her husband?'

His voice was raised and tight with tears. I fought to loose myself from his grip, which held me vice-like.

'I loved your mother, as I have loved no other woman through the long weary aeons I have lived! She was so like you - so bright, so merry, brave and bold, and so lovely.... and once we thought she was with child, and our hearts were near breaking with joy.'

'The child - died?' I could hardly speak through my tear-bound throat.

'She carried it scarcely two moons.'

'Could - could you not try again?' his anguish was nigh breaking my heart as well.

'No. Once she was wed, I could not take her again. 'Tis the law. Oh, how I longed to! I spent such time watching that window, longing for her to open it and lean out.... but she never did. Never again.. except...'

I stroked his cheek and felt the course of tears. Such a strange situation, to be lying with my lover, who had been my mother's lover - and who knows how many other womens' lover before us, yet still a beautiful youth in appearance.

'Except?' I prompted him softly, and he held me tight, murmuring into my ear.

'Just once. Once, her husband was away at market overnight. It was a long, hot night, she was at the casement, and I came to her.' he said no more but I felt his shoulders rigid beneath my fingers.

'When was that? How long ago?'

He shrugged, sat up and gazed out to the moonlit sea. I huddled close to him, the night air striking chill on my naked flanks. He put his arm around me, then bent one great wing to enfold me in gossamer light warmth.


A Tale of Faerie



'Long ago, maid. I count not easily in your years, but a full three seasons before you were born.'

I considered his words, struck silent by the revelation. Three seasons? Could he - no, I refused to consider that. This beautiful faerie youth was an Immortal, incapable of making a woman with child. 

He spoke again, softly but with an edge of humour.

'I think your mother made sure to lie with her husband the following night.'

The warmth of his wing soothed me, but my heart struck chill. He turned his head and gently kissed my forehead.

'Ye be not my child, maid. If so 'twere, I'd never have taken ye. And ye'd have borne the marks of faerie.'

'What are they?' I asked through numb lips. This revelation came not easy to me, but it seemed that so much that had always puzzled me might be explained this night.

'In body, the babe will be thin and small, sallow coloured, with black hair and green eyes. They may have the stumps of wings or marks on their backs where wings should be. They thrive not well on earthling food, but eat uncooked herbs and vegetables.'

'Is that all?' I asked, almost disappointed to remember my hearty appetite, bouncing brown hair and blue eyes, and stories from my family of my robust infancy.

'No. In mind - there are some - but it is mere tales.' He sounded uncertain now, feeling for his words.

'It is said that some may be in appearance full earthchildren, but their souls and minds know their way different. As if ... as if they know, know they come from elsewhere. They dream of flying... of having wings. They - weep - for they know not what, when the wind tosses the tops of the trees. They love the trees.... love....' he fell silent, and I sat rigid, daring not to move a muscle. His fumbling speech had laid out, as in a palimpsest, all that had been different about me as a child. 

'All these have I had as long as I can recall.' I said, in cold clear tone. 

He moved his arm and made to stand, but I caught at him and held him tight.

'I am your child! Aren't I! I am yours, fruit of your loins, and you have been my lover! You are my FATHER and you have been my LOVER!'

But even as I cried out these words, he was holding me, naked against my nakedness, holding me tight and warm, and the words fell out into the void and lost all meaning.

'I am not your father, maid. My seed may have lodged in some corner of your infant mind, but you are fruit of your earthly parents.. I watched your begetting, the night after my last flight with your mother. I watched your begetting..... '

He took me back, I gowned and shawled myself, he produced a robe and covered himself also, and we sat by the banks of the river in the moonlight, close enough to touch, but talking, talking.

Ham made offer for my hand in marriage and my parents agreed 'twas a goodly match. I was fond of Ham but only as friend, not more. I asked for time, said kindly but not encouraging words to Ham, and sighed with relief when he courted Emma from the village and married her instead.

The woodsfolk moved on to another forest, save for one young man who Milord retained as forester and gamekeeper. His name was Jamie, and he was my faerie lover, although in daylight his wings showed not, being by some enchantment able to fold small against his back, under his jerkin. I would see him every Sunday in church, and he made it his business to become known to my father, doing some small favours and work for him now and then. He found much greater favour in my mother's sight than I would have dared hope. I never asked her about moonlit flights with a faerie lover, in the light of day such words drained from my mouth, but her eyes were full of happiness for me the day Jamie laid out his offer and my father asked my wishes in the matter.

I asked to speak alone with Jamie, and we walked in the meadow, in view of others but out of earshot.

'You will not age. I will grow old, and be childless, and you will remain a youth. How will we manage?'

He hesitated before replying.

'There are - ways. I could take you as wife, and as you say, we would live your lifetime together, you ageing, childless, and I would not change. Or.... oh my love, it shakes my heart with fear to even think of it. But there is another way, if you would have me as an ordinary man....'

I was struck to silence. To have my beautiful lover, yes, but as a mortal. No more flights, no more faerie delights or fantasies. Just an ordinary, earthbound mortal. I turned and gazed at him, and reached for his hands - his big, rough, work-hardened hands. They were already different, or was that the enchantment of his disguise?

'I would take you as husband either way, Jamie. It is you, the person you are, that I love, not the flying, and the magical nights.'

He gazed down at me, blinking, his face flushed.

'Are you sure, Madlyn? You must be very sure. Once this is started it cannot be stopped, and I cannot be restored.' His hands were grasping my fingers tightly and his voice was rough with his passion.

'You are willing to turn away from your people, to become a man of earth, to face decay and old age in the blinking of an eye, compared to your own. If you are willing to do that for me, I am humbled beyond thinking of how great your love must be for me. How could I be less than sure?'

'There will be changes in my person, Madlyn. I will be - coarser, rougher. I will be as other men. Not only the wings will go... I will be lesser in other ways. Less able to pleasure you. Would you accept that also?'

I held his hands as tight as I could, and smiled at his anxious, dear, beautiful face. The shadow of a beard was already creeping on it, where before he had been as a youth.

'I accept you, Jamie. If you were to lose your member altogether as well as your wings, I would accept you.'

He blinked, then I spoke quickly.

'Of course, that loss would make the getting of children very difficult, and I would be glad to have you only diminished!'

He stood very still for a full minute, breathing shallow and fast, his eyes fixed on mine. Then a smile spread over his face, an expression of such joy and happiness that I laughed to see it in sheer delight.

'It is done. I must leave you for a space, for a few days, to prepare for our life to come. My love, my darling maid, I must court you now as a man of earth, not of air.'

I was startled at the speed with which events had moved, but the deep abiding joy in my heart drowned out all disappointment that my nights of moonlit aerial lovemaking were over.

'I think then that we should return to my parents, and tell them I have accepted your hand.'

My mother wept with joy as we returned, and later, when she and I were busy in the linen room, she said softly to me, 

'Once, long ago, I had dreams of such a man. He would come to the chamber window and touch my hand, and I could fly with him above the clouds. He looked like your Jamie, in a way.'

'I had such dreams as well, Mother.' I replied, looking only at the sheets I was folding. 'He also looked like Jamie, only also of faerie. And I could fly only so long as I held his hand.'

She knew I was saying but a small part of the dreams, and I knew she had done likewise, but we smiled at each other in good understanding. There are some things, even from dreams, that may not be told.

Jamie and I were properly wed a month later, and we lived in the gamekeeper's cottage on Milord's estate. Jamie was as all other men - but taller, broader, and to my eyes far more handsome. He drank little, was a sober, grave, hardworking man, and our lovemaking in the marriage bed was a strong, happy delight to us both. His manhood had not been lessened to any great extent, even though his great wings were vanished without trace, and we no longer flew on moonlit nights. He still could move through the woodlands without startling any bird, nor even the deer; and as the years passed we had three beautiful, robust children to delight in.

Now we are older, our children are near full-grown, my parents have joined their parents under the sod of the churchyard having lived to ripe, contented old age. My hair is streaked with silver, as is Jamie's hair and beard. We walk in the woods together in the summer evenings, talking of our life together, discussing the children, and sometimes Jamie will stop, his head will go up like a deer on the scent, and somewhere at the edge of vision there are flitting, fleeting shadows. Life has been good to us; we have had our share of sickness, but nothing deadly or long lasting. My herbs and simples have kept many from death's door, and Jamie's quiet, constant strength is a great blessing to the whole village.

And now, years later. Jamie and I are both old, delighting more in sitting in the warm sun than walking around. Our bones are old, our minds hark back to our youth, the green-gold sunlit beechwoods where first we met, the magical, unspoken weeks of our first loving. We sit together, eat together, sleep together, our unity a seamless joy so deep it is hard to comprehend. It is bitter winter now, we are abed, the cold strikes even through our thick-walled cottage. I am awake, lying close to Jamie's bulk, feeling the warmth from him. My eyes are dimmed now, my ears feeble, and I am ... falling asleep... sighing out , so tired, so long in this weary old body, but feeling the warmth from Jamie keeping me here... I feel more than hear him sigh also, and sigh again.

'Madlyn... Mad... come fly ' he murmurs, and I smile and take his hand in mine. Those words have been our secret all these long years, the tender secret code for joining in love. I sigh, try to move my other arm to caress him... but my arm will not move, it lies there stubbornly heavy. 

'Jamie.. I can't move' I mumble through cold lips.

He must have fallen asleep, he doesn't answer me. I feel a pang of pain and loneliness, that awful tearing pain I felt only before when Mother died... then it goes, and I am so peaceful, so warm and happy, lying here in bed with Jamie's hand holding mine firmly. I can feel the strong pulse of his blood in his fingers. His fingers. ... no longer thickened with age, but supple, young, strong again. I move my hand in his, and he grips me, then releases a little. My other arm, instead of lying there heavy and unmoving, I can move it now, and I reach over to embrace my husband. It moves so easily, so light and ready, like the limb of a young girl. I hear Jamie's rich chuckle as he sits up in bed, still holding my hand, raising me up also into the air, floating in the cold winter air above the bed. He spreads his great wings, folding me close and warm in his embrace.

'Come, maid, Madlyn my love. Come fly.'

We rise up through the closed casement, leaving behind two old husks in the bed, and fly up into the night sky, speeding sure and straight to rejoin his people. Jamie lets go my hand, and I struggle, panicking at the thought of falling .... and with a surge of power, my own wings unfurl, and hold me on the night currents. 

Jamie looks at me, smiling his beautiful slanting smile, his green eyes lambent with joy.

'It was there all along, my love. All along, you had it in you, somewhere.'