Faerie Night

He attempted to peer through the thick fog. No moon tonight and no proper rain, just the bone chilling mist. He gripped his wife’s cold fingers more tightly and together they stumbled through the dark woods, silent but for their passing. They needed shelter, a safe place to rest. “Please…” He prayed silently. “Not so much for meself, but for her and the babe within.”

Ahead, he thought he saw a light and steered them toward it as it seemingly danced through the trees. He wondered if it was a farmer’s lantern or a tricky willow-the-wisp so he tried to call out, but his voice was too hoarse to carry before the light vanished. He hoped he was leading them toward where he saw it last but knew there was no way to be sure. There was a thinning of the damnable mist, but before he could figure out why, they suddenly fetched up hard against something solid.

His wife whimpered and sank to her knees, thankful for even this partial shelter but he was determined to find a roof and walls of some sort. He felt along the barrier they had run into and determined that it was rough hewn wood. His heart leapt with hope as he felt along for an opening or better yet, a door.

The one he found was half fallen in and the interior of what he now determined to be an old barn smelled only faintly of farm animals but more strongly of moldy straw. So it hadn’t been used in a long time… He returned for his wife and brought her inside, doing his best to make her semi comfortable before fighting to prop the door closed behind them. He collapsed next to her and wrapped his cloak around them both. One hand drifted down to caress the swell of her stomach where their child grew.

*~*~*

“Hmmm… What have we here…?”

The young man sat up and peered into the darkness. “Who’s there?”

“I could ask the same of the strangers sleeping in my barn.”

Something about the voice sounded strange, inhuman. “We were lost in the woods. In the dark. This place appeared to not have been used in a long time. We’ll leave with the sun. Please. My wife is with child. We only want to rest.”

“Hmmm…”

There were shuffling sounds in the straw that sounded more animal-like than human. The young man remembered the stories his grandmother had told him of the Good Folk and was on his guard.

“If you wish to stay in my barn, you must tell me your name. Tis only fair.”

He considered. He knew he couldn’t give his true name, nor his wife’s and if he didn’t secure a promise of peace for the night, there would be none. “I have a bit of bread to pay for our lodging, if you would also give us a name and pledge us no harm.

“Hmmm… Is it, gooood bread?”

“My mother made it just yesterday with honey and acorn flour.”

There was a soft squeal and more shuffling. “Give the bread to meeee!”

“Your name and pledge.”

“Fine!” The creature huffed. “Yours as well!”

“You may call me Tobin,” the young man said, using the name of his long dead younger brother to protect himself. “And I mean you no harm this night. My wife and I will leave peacefully with the daylight.”

The creature huffed again. “You may call me Crumbs. So long as you make no threat to me, I will not harm you, nor your wife and unborn child this night. Now give the bread to me!”

Satisfied, the young man dug out the parcel of food from his pouch and held out the larger of two chunks of his mother’s bread. He felt the cool, dry, leathery fingers brush against his skin. “Good night, Crumbs. Enjoy that. Rest well.” Then he hugged his wife to himself tightly, thankful she had stayed asleep through the whole exchange.

*~*~*

“Hmmm… What have we here...?”

The young woman sat up and peeredgroggily into the gloom. “Who is there?”

“I could ask the same of the strangers sleeping in my barn.”

“We mean you no harm. We were lost in the fog, in the woods. We just need to rest, please. We will leave as soon as it’s light.” It seemed odd that her husband was sleeping through this and there was something about the voice that set her nerves on alert. Her mother and grandmother had warned her to never trust the Good Folk.

“So said your husband.”

“I assume then a bargain was struck for us to stay the night.”

The creature laughed. “Yes… But he forgot one thing. He fell asleep before giving me your lovely name.”

“We are very tired. I am sure it just slipped his mind. You may call me…” She frantically searched for something to tell him. She felt the hard jeweled hilt of her dagger against her hip. “Ruby. Does that satisfy the agreement? May I rest now?”

“Of course…” the creature hissed. “Until daylight.”

She lay back down and snuggled close against her husband’s chest, trying to calm her racing heart. She was certain the creature could hear it, maybe it could even smell her fear. She brushed her fingers over the hilt of the dagger to reassure herself as there were more shuffling sounds in the straw. She resisted the urge to draw it, instead comforting herself in that her husband had made a deal for their safety and tried to go back to sleep.

*~*~*

The couple awoke on a bed of earthy smelling leaves rather than moldy straw, the morning sun casting bright fingers through the trees above them in place of the roof they were expecting. As they sat up and looked around, neither were there any signs of weathered, rough hewn wood walls to be seen. It was as if their night had been but an illusion. Confusion gave way to bewilderment as the young man pulled a piece of straw from his wife’s dark hair. “So it wasn’t a dream…”

She stumbled to her feet. “It appears not. We survived a Faerie Night but I would not like to press our luck and attempt to endure another.”

He stood and drew her close to walk by his side, his arm protectively around her shoulders. “Nor I, my love.”