By M. Brandon Robbins
I had lived in Dublin for about a month when I met the Faerie Queen. On an especially sunny Saturday, I decided to go for a walk through St. Patrick’s Park, which was near my flat. I had been walking around for about an hour when I saw her. She was sitting at the base of a tree, wearing a green dress that flowed around her. She had flowers in her hair. Her skin was fair, and her hair was red. She was beautiful, and she sang a song in a language I didn’t recognize.
As I walked by, she looked up at me and waved.
“Hello,” she said.
“Hi,” I replied, giving my own wave.
“You’re not from around here.” It wasn’t a question.
I smiled. “No, I’m not. I’m from Ohio.”
“In America?”
“Yes. Columbus, to be exact.”
“I’ve never been there.” Her voice was like a song, bright and cheerful. Her face was decorated with glitter, and she wore red eye shadow and purple lipstick. “Is it nice?”
I shrugged. “It’s fine if you like the cold.”
She smiled. It was a beautiful smile, the kind that makes you think of love at first sight. Looking back, maybe that’s the moment that I fell for her.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
“My friends call me Ben.”
Her smile faded into a smirk, and she wagged a finger at me. “You’re clever. Never give your true name to strangers, especially girls with flowers in their hair who sit under trees in the middle of a park in the middle of the greatest city in the world.”
I offered her a courteous laugh. “That’s good advice, I suppose.” I waved at her once more. “Well, it was a pleasure talking to you. Maybe I’ll see you around.”
“Maybe you will.”
I walked on through the park and doubled back to my flat. All the while, I couldn’t stop thinking about her.
***
I collect vinyl. I know that makes me sound pretentious, like the kind of person who assumes you’ve never heard of their favorite band, but I collected vinyl even before it was the cool thing to do (and now I sound even more pretentious).
One afternoon, I decided to explore a record store that my coworker, Rob, had recommended to me. He said it was supposed to be the best in Dublin. He didn’t collect vinyl, but one of his friends did, and they wouldn’t stop talking about the amazing finds they made there.
I took a taxi to the store and walked in to find an absolutely blissful, heavenly oasis of music. The walls were lined with flip bins, and there were even more lined up back-to-back in the middle of the store. On the wall behind the counter was a selection of pristine pieces that probably cost the better portion of one of my paychecks.
I didn’t know where to start. I just walked around until I had a gut feeling that something was waiting for me to discover it. I was amazed at what I found. I hadn’t heard of most of these bands, and everything was in amazing condition. It looked like these albums had been bought off the shelf and then immediately placed into storage. Of course, I was going to need recommendations. I had to talk to the owner.
“You should get that one,” I heard a familiar voice say from behind me. “The cover art is mesmerizing.”
I turned around to see the woman from the park, the Faerie Queen, standing at my shoulder. She smiled and waved.
“Hi, Ben.”
I smiled back. “Hi!”
“In a city of millions, we cross paths once again. It’s only been twice, but it’s weird that it’s happened that many times, huh?”
“Yeah, it is pretty weird.” She was right, after all. “So, you collect vinyl?”
“Music sounds best on vinyl.”
“It does!” I took the album she had referred to out of the bin. “So, you say I should get this one?”
“For sure. Look at the cover art. It’s like a fever dream.”
“Are you familiar with the band?”
“Not in the least.”
“So you pick out what to listen to based on the cover art?”
She rolled her eyes. “No, silly. I pick what to buy based on the cover art. I choose what to listen to by total chance. Close my eyes, reach out, and whatever I pull off the shelf is what goes on my record player.”
The Faerie Queen was wearing a dark green T-shirt and brown capri pants. Her eyeshadow was blue, and her lipstick was dark pink. She had her red hair tied up, and she was absolutely gorgeous. A beautiful woman had met me briefly and remembered me, and now she was talking to me in the middle of a crowded record store. What had I done to be so lucky? I decided to press my luck.
“Would you like to grab a coffee or something?”
She smirked the same way she had when we met previously. “You don’t even know my name.”
“Well, if you tell me, then I’ll know.”
“My friends call me Moira.”
It struck me at that time that Moira seemed like an odd nickname. It was a proper name. I shrugged it off. Maybe she went by her middle name. “Okay, Moira, would you like to get a coffee with me?”
What she said next surprised me. “Why?” She had the same bright look on her face. She wasn’t trying to get to me—she asked as if she was genuinely curious as to why I was interested in her.
I blushed. “Well, we’re both into collecting vinyl. Maybe we have more in common. Maybe we could be good friends.”
Moira nodded. “Good answer. Sure, I’ll have a coffee with you. I know a place nearby.” She then glanced at the vinyl I was holding. “You gonna buy that?”
I looked at the album cover. It was indeed quite the mesmerizing work of art. It was a kaleidoscope of greens and browns, like an abstract interpretation of a forest scene. I decided to take a chance on it. “Sure. Let me go pay for it.”
“I’ll meet you outside.”
She pulled a pair of sunglasses with thin wire frames out of her purse and breezed past me. I headed up to the counter to pay for my find. The clerk assured me that I was going to love it. I asked what the band’s name and the title of the album were, not having seen them on the cover.
“That’s the self-titled album by Fairies at Dusk,” she answered. “They were big in Dublin in the late ‘80s. Never quite caught on outside of the city.”
I thanked the clerk and headed outside. Moira was, as promised, standing there waiting for me.
“Ready?” she asked.
“Sure.”
Without another word, she grabbed my hand and led me off down the street.
***
I ordered a large mocha with extra chocolate. She ordered a cinnamon latte. I insisted on paying. We took seats on the patio and spent a few minutes sipping our drinks. Moira was the first one to speak.
“So what brings you to Dublin from Ohio?”
“I’m a teacher. I’m part of an international teacher exchange. I could have ended up in Munich, Paris, or Rome. I ended up in Dublin. I’m glad, actually. I speak the language here.”
“What do you teach?”
“Science, this year specifically chemistry.”
“So you can make things explode?” She took a sip of her drink without breaking eye contact with me. She had taken off her sunglasses, and I could see for the first time just how deeply green her eyes were.
I laughed. “That’s not what we try to do in class, no. So how about yourself? What do you do?”
For the third time since I met her, she smirked—knowing, coy, and sly. “I’m the Faerie Queen.”
I laughed. She didn’t. I shook my head. “I’m sorry?”
“I’m the Faerie Queen. I hold dominion over the fae and the spirits of the woods. I spend a few days among humans from time to time because I find them fascinating, but most of my time is spent keeping order in the woodland realm.”
I pulled my lips over my teeth and blinked. “That sounds like interesting work.”
Moira pouted. “You don’t believe me.”
I didn’t believe anything except that she was crazy. I found myself wondering what I had gotten myself into and thinking that maybe I should find a reason to have to return home suddenly. But then, I looked back into her eyes. I did not see the unstable energy of someone who was mentally unwell, or the manic intensity of somebody suffering delusions. I saw the bright, clear, soft gaze of somebody who was absolutely telling the truth. I knew it was illogical to buy into her fantasy, but I knew that she believed what she was saying. Maybe it was all an act. I’ll admit, I was curious as to where this was going to go.
“I didn’t say that,” I finally answered. I picked up my drink and took a long sip, stalling for time while I thought of what to say next. “It’s just that, you know, it’s not every day that one meets royalty. Is there some kind of protocol I should be following?”
“Oh, no.” She was as serious as poison. “You’re not fae, so you’re not beholden to any courtly procedure.”
“I see.” I took another sip of mocha. “So, you come to live among humans a few days at a time. Was the first time I saw you the last time you did that?”
Moira smiled and clapped her hands together. “It was! That makes our meeting even more odd. One could say that it was fate. Do you feel like it was fate?”
“It may have been.”
She leaned forward on her elbows. “Okay, I see I’m making you feel all kinds of awkward. Let’s talk about something more familiar to you.”
“What would you like to talk about?”
“Music. What’s your favorite band?”
“Okay, it’s a safe answer. It’s nothing special. But it’s my honest, true favorite: the Black Crowes.”
“I would have pegged you as a Led Zeppelin guy.”
We talked about our favorite bands and albums (she apparently didn’t own more than two albums by any one band) for the next hour. We talked about the best guitar solos and the tightest bass lines. We debated whether Ozzy or Dio was the better frontman for Black Sabbath (she was firmly in Dio’s camp; I was not). We laughed and pretended to lose our tempers and forgot about our drinks.
Moira picked up her cup during a lull in conversation. She took a sip and screwed her face in disgust. “My drink’s cold.”
I took a sip of mine. “Mine too.”
“Maybe that’s a sign that we should part ways for the day. I can only maintain my glamour for so long anyway.” She stood up from her chair, and I followed suit. “This was nice. We should do it again.”
“I would like that. So, can I call you or something?” I took out my phone and opened the app for my contacts, ready to add her to them.
“Sure.” She gave me her number, and I sent a text that simply read “It’s Ben.”
“Remember,” she said, holding her finger firmly toward me, “only for a few days at a time. I’m due back to hold court tonight, so it might be a week or more. Don’t get impatient if I don’t answer.”
“Why don’t you just text me when you’re back among us mortals?”
“I could do that, but then you wouldn’t be chasing me.” She winked and put her sunglasses back on. “See you later, Ben.”
She walked away and disappeared into the crowd.
***
The rational part of my brain wanted to believe that this was some kind of game that Moira was playing. Maybe she did this to everyone who asked her out. wanting to see what level of weird they could handle. If it was a game, I can’t imagine she had been in many relationships. Most people would see her claiming to be the queen of the woodland realm with a completely straight face and run away as fast as possible.
But the romantic part of my brain, the inner child that still believed in faerie tales, wanted to believe that she was telling the truth. I wanted to believe that I had truly found somebody magical, somebody from outside of the average, everyday world. I wanted to believe that there were things beyond my understanding, and I had crossed paths with one.
So I did my homework.
The day after I had coffee with Moira, I went to the closest library branch and asked for every book they had on fairies. I was soon presented with an impressive collection of books. I took my pile of research material to a table and opened the book on top of the stack.
I didn’t read straight through. I skimmed the table of contents and found the chapters relevant to my interests. Most of the entries were academic: examinations of Irish folklore, pagan mythology, and witchcraft. The next book was much the same, and the next. Finally, in a well-worn leather-bound tome, I found what I was looking for: a guide on how to interact with the fae.
I learned several interesting facts. If you accepted a gift from a fae, or gave them your true name, then they claimed ownership over you and could give you orders you were bound to obey. I learned that they were highly allergic to iron and used magical disguises (what Moira had called “glamour”) to hide from humans. It was an informative read. I felt truly prepared to date the Faerie Queen.
What I was not prepared for was to fall in love so fast.
***
I waited a week before I sent Moira a text. I checked several times a day to see if she had replied to my simple greeting. She had not. Eight days later, I sent her another text: “Back among us mere humans?” She didn’t answer even after I waited another six days. I finally had given up hope— resigning myself to the fact that I had not passed some kind of test— when my phone dinged late at night on a Friday.
“I’m back among you now.”
I smiled. It had been a long time since I had been so happy to receive a text. “How was court?” I asked.
“The pixies and the goblins were fighting as usual. I had to make peace.”
“What was the fight over?”
“Difficult to explain in mortal terms. Anyway, how have things been for you?”
“About the same. Teaching every day. Trying to inspire the minds of the next generation. Feeling like I’m failing miserably.”
She replied with a laugh emoji. “I’m sure you’re doing just fine.”
I waited to see if she would keep the conversation going. She did.
“Want to get together tomorrow?”
Butterflies flew from my stomach up into my chest. “I’d like that.”
“Meet at the coffee shop?”
“Sure.”
“Wear comfortable shoes.”
“What time?”
“Early? About eight?”
She had to be a special woman to be worth getting up in time to meet her at eight o’clock on a Saturday. “I’ll be there.”
“See you then.”
I did not sleep easily that night. I was filled with a pleasant sort of anxiety. I lay awake, staring at my phone, scrolling through every social media app I had, willing time to pass faster. I fell asleep eventually, only getting three hours in before my alarm went off. I should have felt exhausted and groggy, but I didn’t. I felt cheerful and full of life.
***
Moira was already at the coffee shop when I arrived there. She was sitting at the same patio table we had occupied on our last trip. There were two drinks in front of her. As I approached the table, she held one up.
“Mocha, extra chocolate?”
I started to accept the drink, but then I remembered what I had read about accepting gifts from the fae. “No, thank you. I’ve had coffee already. I’m good for a little while.” She shrugged and dumped the coffee in a nearby bin along with her cup. “So, I’ve got my comfortable shoes on. What have you got planned?”
She stood up from her seat. “Follow me,” she said with a smile. I stood aside so she could walk in front of me and followed close behind. We walked through the city for about half an hour. She said nothing the whole time, and I did the same. As we turned one corner, I could see a park in the distance. I assumed that’s where we were headed.
She stopped and turned around. “Figured out where we’re going yet?”
“That park up ahead?”
Moira nodded. “Exactly. Dublin has some of the best parks in the world, you know.”
“I seem to remember meeting quite an interesting person in a park.”
“I do too. So this is Bushy Park. Are you familiar with it?”
“I’m not. I’m not familiar with this part of the city, actually.”
“I think you’ll enjoy it.” Moira started walking again. I followed her all the way to the park entrance, where she stopped and motioned for me to walk up beside her. When I did, she took my hand. “I’m going to show you my favorite place.”
Our walk through the park, hand-in-hand, was the most peaceful and pleasant experience I’d ever had. We took a path through the sparsely crowded woodlands, and I had never felt so close to nature. It was as if by holding Moira’s hand, I was more deeply connected to the plants and animals around us.
After we had been walking for a bit, Moira tugged on my hand. “Come with me,” she said. She led me off the trail and into the woods. We walked deep into the trees.
She took my other hand and stood there in front of me. “Close your eyes,” she instructed me.
I did.
“Now, listen.”
I took a deep breath and did as she said. I cleared my mind of all distractions and stray thoughts. I don’t know how much time passed before I started to hear the laughter, but when I did, I opened my eyes.
Moira was smiling from ear to ear. “Do you hear them? The faeries?”
I nodded. “Are they laughing?”
She nodded back. “They think you’re handsome. I think they’re right.”
“What else do they say?”
“They say I should kiss you.”
She leaned forward, closing her own eyes and parting her lips. I leaned towards her and met her lips with mine.
We parted and looked at each other.
“Did you like that?” she asked.
“I did.”
“Would you like to do it again?”
“I would.”
We kissed again, deeper and harder, pulling each other into a tight embrace as we did. Time melted away. I forgot about everything: my job, my family back home, what I had managed to learn about a new city. There was only myself, Moira, the woods, and the kiss we shared.
I don’t know how long we stood there entwined with each other, but we finally each took a step back. We were both flushed and breathing heavily.
“So,” I said, “what do the faeries say now?”
Moira blushed deeper and lowered her chin to her chest. “They say we’ve been naughty.”
“It was their idea for you to kiss me.”
“Well, they are known troublemakers.” She took my hand and started leading me back to the path.
We walked back to the coffee shop. We each ordered another coffee. I insisted on paying. We sat at what I was beginning to think of as our table.
“How was that?” Moira asked. They were the first words either of us had spoken since leaving the woods.
“It was quite the adventure.”
“Would you like to go on more adventures?”
“I would.”
She smirked. “So why don’t you tell me your name?”
I sighed and stalled by taking a long sip from my coffee. “I told you my friends call me Ben.”
“But that’s not your true name.”
“It’s true enough.”
Moira winked at me. “I’ll get your name.”
“So how long until you have to go back to the woods?”
“A few days still.”
“Want to go out for dinner tomorrow?”
“Sure. Text me the time and place.”
We finished our coffees and said goodbye to each other. Moira walked off back in the direction of Bushy Park, and I hailed a cab to take back to my flat. As soon as I got home, I started searching online for the best place to take a dinner date in Dublin. Seeing that most of the recommended places were far beyond my budget, I narrowed down my search to the more affordable places. When I finally found what looked like a decent restaurant, I booked a reservation and texted Moira.
“Do you like Italian food?”
She replied back within a minute. “Love it.”
I sent her the name of the restaurant and told her what time to meet me. The next night couldn’t get here fast enough.
***
The next few weeks were an absolute whirlwind. Whenever she was vacationing away from her woodland realm, Moira and I spent nearly every spare moment we had together. As soon as I got home from work, I’d call or text her, and we were usually together within the hour. We shared meals, drinks, and deep conversations. I always made sure to pay; I did not want to accept any gifts from her. She was intoxicating to be around, but I didn’t want her to have total control of me. I was not interested in being the plaything of a fae creature, but I was most certainly interested in being in love with one.
I wanted to tell her that I loved her, but I didn’t want to make things strange for us. I wasn’t sure if I was the first human she had ever been involved with, and I didn’t know— as fascinated as she claimed to be by us mortals— if she fully understood human emotions. I didn’t know how to explain to her that I didn’t fully comprehend my own feelings and struggled with how to articulate them.
Several times throughout our time together, she asked for my true name. I always avoided giving it to her. Again, I had no desire for her to possess me. However, the urge to retain ownership of myself and withhold my true name from her grew weaker and weaker with every smile, every touch of her hand, and every kiss.
***
Moira texted me late one Friday night. She asked if I was busy. Of course I told her I was free. There was nothing that would have kept me from seeing her. She texted me back an address with a simple message: “Meet me here.”
I got dressed and went down to call a cab. I gave the driver the address; he took me to an apartment building a few blocks away from my own. I paid him, tipped him well, and got out. I texted Moira to tell her I had arrived.
A few moments later, she came out of the door to the building. She smiled when she saw me, and I returned the gesture. She wore black eyeshadow with matching lipstick and a navy blue top with a flowing gray skirt.
“Would you like to come up?” she asked.
I gulped, my stomach full of twisting nerves. “Sure.”
She stepped aside and gestured for me to come in. I did and followed her up the stairs. As we walked, she spoke to me. “You’re probably wondering how I can afford a flat. Well, I have to admit that I’m a little naughty.”
“Oh really?”
“I know the landlord’s true name, so I get the place for free.” She giggled, as if she had just told me a cute little secret. “I know, it’s not fair, but one does what one must.”
We stopped outside of a door on the third floor. “Well, this is me.” She unlocked the door and swung it open. “Do come in.”
I walked in and heard her shut the door behind me. I was overwhelmed by just how much the apartment fit her personality and sense of style. The only light to be seen came from white Christmas lights hung all over the place. On one wall was a bookcase stocked with albums; on the opposite wall, another fully-stocked bookcase, many of which seemed to be older than I was. There was a couch and two seats in the living room. No two pieces of furniture were the same color, but they were all earth tones.
I turned to her, expecting to see the same woman who had welcomed me downstairs. But instead, I saw someone different. She was still Moira, but she was drastically changed. Moira was somewhat tall before but was now at least eight inches shorter. Her hair was not pulled up into a messy bun but was instead matted and wild. Flowers were entwined in her hair, but there was no sensible pattern to their arrangement. She wore a dress that left her shoulders bare, made of grass, moss, and leaves. Her exposed skin shimmered as if covered in glitter. But most noticeable, however, were her wings. They extended from her back and were shaped like those of a butterfly, pale pink and translucent.
Moira spoke. Her voice had not changed. “This is me,” she said. “This is who I really am.”
I took the deepest breath I had ever taken in my life and smiled. “You’re beautiful.”
She frowned for the first time since I met her. “Am I?”
“Moira, you’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.”
I saw tears stream down her cheeks. She wiped them away. “You’re not the first, you know? You’re not the first human to woo me. There always comes a time when I feel like they should know that I’m not playing a game. They need to know that I truly am a creature of the woods, so I let down my glamour and show them who I really am. They usually hurry away.”
I shook my head. “Moira, I could never run from you.” I walked forward and pulled her close. I kissed her, as softly and as carefully as I could manage. She returned the kiss, pressing herself into me more firmly as she ran her hands across my back.
She led me to the sofa. I sat down, and she straddled me. We kissed and touched each other and slowly undressed. We made love. Her breath was sweet, and her skin was warm. We stared into each other’s eyes and breathed into each other’s ears until we were finished. She collapsed onto me, burying her head into my shoulder.
It was at that moment that I decided to tell her that I loved her.
“My name is Bennet,” I said. “Bennet Harold Sutton.”
She picked her head up and looked me in the eye. “You gave me your true name.” Tears ran from her eyes. “And of your own free will. I didn’t have to trick you. I didn’t ask this time. You just told me.”
I simply nodded.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“Promise you won’t hurt me.”
“I promise, my love.”
We got dressed once again. For a moment, I looked away. When I looked back, Moira had assumed her glamour once more. Gone was the beautiful creature of the woodland realm, and in her place was the beautiful woman of the city.
“Want to go get something to eat?” she asked.
“I’m famished. That sounds great.”
We took each other’s hands and walked down to the street.
“What are you in the mood for?” she asked.
I shrugged. “Whatever you want.”
Moira led me down the street. I had no idea where we were going, but I’d be by her side no matter where we went.
M. Brandon Robbins is a writer, gamer, and librarian from Goldsboro, NC. He has previously published in various short story and poetry publications, and his novel, Mr. Haunt, is forthcoming from Sley House Publishing in 2028.