Loving a Leanan Sidhe [fiction]

Sarah was 20 when she first met a Sidhe. Leanne O’Brian was new to the college campus. She was Irish and believed very much she was an actual descendant of a Leanan Sidhe (pronounced lan-awn she). She was beyond gothic-punk and World of Darkness games. She was real and beautiful and captivating, with long and flowing, silky black hair, creamy elfin face and skin, and a lithe and shapely body.

Leanne became Sarah’s roommate and fascinated Sarah with her Sidhe tales. Sarah knew little about the Leanan Sidhe, so she visited libraries and researched the creature who had captivated her interest 24/7. The Irish name Leanan Sidhe translates to “fairy, love of my soul,” which described Leanne perfectly. Sarah loved Leanne like a sister.

Irish folklore says Leanan Sidhe women are female empaths. Surely, Leanne felt Sarah’s love for her. Folklore also says the Sidhe are high status members of the fairy world because they look almost human. Utmost bedazzling women would be a better description.

On the religious platform, according to more folklore, all fairies are fallen angels of heaven and cursed by God, which was likely why Sarah’s friends scoffed when she told them about Leanne being a real fairy. Or it may have simply been that they did not believe in fairies. All the same, they warned Sarah to be careful. The Leanan Sidhe was, depending on whose books one drew from, a cousin to the vampire.

Sarah knew from her research that the Leanan Sidhe were vampiric. Instead of drinking blood, however, they are afflicted with the desire, and indeed the necessity to consume the living spirit of mortals. The Leanan Sidhe who tried to quit cold turkey, vanished, and was never seen or heard of again.

Sarah did not want Leanne to quit being what she was. With Leanne around, she became adept in art, music, and poetry. But Leanne barely seemed to notice her talents. She slept most of the time.

The day after Sarah’s twenty-first birthday, Leanne said goodbye. She was going home, back to Ireland to finish her studies.

Sarah ran to her, hugged her, and wept in their embrace. For a moment, two sharp teeth grazed the skin before Leanne kissed Sarah on a cheek. And then she got in the taxi and was gone.

That day, Sarah quit making art and music. Her daily poems are of the love she has for a certain Leanan Sidhe, nothing more.

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