Given To Be Stolen

Not even the sharp pain of my mother’s elbow digging into my ribs made me look away.

“Don’t look directly at them,” she hissed. “They’ll charm and trick you. They’ll steal you away.”

So dramatic, as usual. We’d been strolling through Fehin Field as we always did on Tuesdays, home towards our village after a thankless day spent cleaning the big houses on the other side. So far, so boring. But today was different.

The lush green expanse was not empty of people like usual. There was a group of them. Dancing. All dressed in black, they moved in time together, so graceful and fluid. Occasionally one would leap through the air, as if it would be nothing to suddenly take flight. Nobody danced like that in our village. Nobody looked like them either, with their long, willowy limbs and skin that shimmered in the sunlight.

How could I help but look?

Mam grabbed my arm roughly, attempting to drag me away.

“What’s the problem?” I moaned. “Can’t I look a little longer? They move so beautifully…”

“That’s exactly the problem.”

Her mouth was pressed in a firm line, her gaze steely as she refused to look anywhere but the direction of the village. She only made that face when she was scared or upset, but didn’t want to show it. It brought me back to reality. Even if she was being dramatic, I didn’t want to upset her. Shaking free of her grip, I gave in and followed, struggling to keep up with her speedy strides.

Given To Be Stolen

“It’s Tuesday, you know,” I grumbled. “So they can’t be fairies. They’re just normal people, having fun.”

Mam said nothing.

It was a well-known fact that the good folk only emerged in Fehin Field on Wednesdays and Thursdays after dusk, enchanting whoever was foolish enough to enter. Some were taken, while others were tricked. Old Man Peters could attest to that (though, many could also attest that Old Man Peters was a drunk that wasn’t to be believed). One Thursday evening after a sherry too many, he claimed the field had been turned into a labyrinth, and he’d been stuck walking through it for hours, until dawn broke and it returned to normal.

As we departed, I cast one last longing look back at the group. Most continued dancing, but one person stood still. He stared right at me with jet black eyes. He was beautiful.

The moment our eyes locked my decision was made.

Later that night as I lay awake in bed, waiting, there came a tapping at my bedroom window. They had come. I don’t know how many there were. My gaze saw only the dark-eyed man, floating, having finally taken flight. I opened the window and he took my hands, his touch as soft and cool as silk as he pulled me away from life as I knew it.

My mother was right. They were taking me away. But I didn’t mind.

I wanted to be taken.