Donovan O'Brian was not a happy man. He had initially gone to Ellis Island, hoping to find clues there amongst the historical societies such as the Ellis Island Historical Museum. Unfortunately, it turned out that Ellis Island started operations back in 1892, well after the Irish potato famine that ended roughly around 1850. As he looked up at the building before him, he frowned. In researching the family histories, Donovan was able to trace the elfin Shea clan all the way back to when they lived in Kerry. In the twelfth century, they branched out to Tipperary. It was during their stay at Tipperary that they and the O'Brian clan met, followed by some sort of transgression that seems to have been long since forgotten. Later, in the fifteenth century, the Shea clan ended up in Kilkenny, with the O'Brian clan not far behind. Their clans' feud finally ended with the death of the last Shea elf in Kilkenny back in 1878, putting an end to the fey folk once and for all. Or so the O'Brians thought. Donovan only learned about twelve years back that a group of the Elves had survived and fled to America during the potato famine. Shortly thereafter, he left the Emerald Isle for the U.S. He had a few clues to go on, but not much. A ships log dated to 1847 with the name Shea in the registry of passengers, a picture of a pair of women holding hands in an old newspaper clipping from around 1883 about something called a "Boston Marriage" (one of the women in the grainy photo sporting a pair of pointed ears), and a smattering of correspondences between Ireland and the U.S. that ended around 1878, the year that his family, the O'Brien clan, had killed off the Shea clan in Ireland. And now, Donovan O'Brian planned to finish the job. For some, a seven-hundred year old vendetta might seem ridiculous to continue, especially in the modern day. But then, as the old joke went, when an Irishman gets Alzheimer's disease, he forgets everything except his grudges. Still, after traveling all the way across the Atlantic a decade ago, Donovan had begun to give up hope, until he saw by chance a book being sold in a store about six months ago, The Fey of Trifalcamore. The name, an ancient elfin version of Tipperary, was enough to cause him to give the book a closer look. The author's name was Mia. Mia Shea. He immediately began trying to find out any information he could about the "fantasy" writer in an attempt to get the writer's address, but had come upon a dead end. The woman was apparently fairly protective about her private life, to the point where she didn't even have publicity photos of herself and shied away from book signings. Which brought him here, to New York City and the home of Raven Fire Books. If anyone knew where Shea might be, it would be her publisher. Donovan looked at his reflection in the glass of one of the building's windows. He straightened his glasses and scratched at his slowly graying beard as he entered the building. He was nearing the end of his long odyssey, he could feel it. .... As music continued to play from the stereo, the two women once again began to slowly dance. As Mia rested her head on Arine's shoulder, the blonde tried to make sense of what was happening. A little less than two hours ago she met the woman she was dancing with, a fantasy author who apparently took one look at her and fell in love with her. She was unsure of what to make of such a statement, having always considered the notion of love at first sight to be a myth. And yet, for her part, Arine also felt a strange attraction for this earthy young woman upon meeting her. She wasn't sure if she would call it love, not in less than two hours time at least. She wasn't even sure if she was ready to try to love again, after... With a start, Arine realized she'd closed her eyes while dancing. Mia was leading the dance, and as she opened her eyes she realized they were now in the bedroom. She glanced around to see a potpourri pot simmering away near a window sill, and the seemingly ever-present candles were in here as well, giving the room a romantic glow. The bed itself looked to be freshly made, with a quilt over it that sported a Celtic knot work design. "Arine." Mia said tentatively, "Would you... Would you like to lie down?" The blonde was surprised; after all, they'd only just met. The brunette certainly didn't seem to believe in taking her time. But then, she didn't seem the type who was only into one night stands either. She stopped dancing and let Mia go as she sat back on the bed, kicking her shoes off before lying back, resting her head on the pillow at the head of the bed, and took a deep breath. Arine wasn't a virgin, not by any means. The blonde had lost her virginity back in high school to an older girl, but neither she nor the senior girl had any idea what they were doing, and the experience was quick and otherwise unmemorable. In college she had a steady girlfriend for awhile, but the girl ended up breaking her heart. She'd never heard of LUGs (Lesbian Until Graduation), or even considered that Sarah might've seen their relationship as an experiment. That was, until she saw the redhead with a man in their bed. After that experience, she thought that she'd never be able to open herself to another. And yet, here she was... "Arine?" a gentle voice asked. The blonde opened her eyes, pulled out of her thoughts by the brunette standing in front of her. Before she could form a response, Mia curled up in bed next to her and leaned forward into a kiss. Arine closed her eyes as all her anxieties concerning how fast they were going evaporated as she lost herself in the physical contact, the scent of the floral perfume the author wore, and the feeling of the other woman's tongue in her mouth. As they kissed, Arine ventured to reach down and slip her hands beneath Mia's sweater, feeling the brunette's abdomen tighten as she brought her fingers up and began to fondle her breasts. She could feel the author's nipples begin to grow harder as Mia started to tug on the blonde's blouse, pulling it out of her slacks. As the brunette began to unbutton the blonde's blouse, Arine slid her hands underneath Mia's bra, thrilling to the feel of the author's soft yet firm flesh beneath her fingers. Mia pulled back from Arine's lips as she finished unbuttoning Arine's blouse. She opened it and gazed admiringly at the blonde's chest. She kissed Arine once more, then pulled away again as she took off her sweater and bra. As she began to then unbutton her pants, Arine smiled tenderly at her. "You don't waste time, do you?" the blonde said, "We only met two hours ago, and now..." Mia had her blue jeans halfway down her hips when she stopped. She'd forgotten about this; an Elf simply knows from the moment he or she meets someone that they are the destined one, their soul mate. The runes yesterday told her the reporter she'd meet today would be the one, and with a single glance at the bus depot, she knew the stones to be correct. But with a human, it was different. There was far more courtship involved, far more romancing, before bonding began. Mia began to fear that she was pushing Arine too far too fast. Mia swallowed hard as she looked at the other woman, "Arine, I... I'm not rushing you, am I?" The blonde answered by pulling the topless woman over to her, "No." she answered, kissing the author lightly on the tip of her nose, "If you were, I promise I would've told you." Mia smiled happily at that. She kissed Arine once again on the lips, and as she wrapped her arms around behind the blonde's back, she could feel the reporter's slender fingers sliding down her back and slipping down between her panties and her rear. Mia pulled back one last time in order to remove her pants and panties, then quickly returned to the blonde's embrace. As the brunette wrapped a leg around Arine, she reached over and slipped her own hands beneath the reporter's bra. As she began to gently twist the blonde's nipples between her thumbs and index fingers, Arine slid her own hand down Mia's abdomen, past her navel, to the short brown hairs surrounded the elf's sex. Mia shuddered a bit as Arine started to massage her cleft, and her chest started to rise and fall more rapidly with her breath. The blonde moved away from the author's lips as she started to kiss her on her neck, then moved to her left nipple. Mia moved her hands to the back of the reporter's head as Arine suckled on her. The blonde then inserted her middle finger past the brunette's labia into her sex, rubbing her clitoris with her thumb as she did so. As she slowly inserted a second finger, working the two in and out in a steady rhythm as she continued to rub Mia's clit with her thumb, she brought her mouth back to the other woman's. Mia began to moan into Arine's mouth as she thrust her hips, impaling herself over and over again on her lover's fingers. As the blonde felt the brunette's body begin to tense up and the muscles around her fingers begin to tighten, she increased the pace of her fingers just a bit. Very shortly thereafter Mia pulled back from Arine as she arched her back, the orgasm causing her to cry out in release. As the last few shudders went through the author's now sweaty body, Arine removed her fingers and pulled her into an embrace. As she gently stroked Mia's cheek, she ventured to run her fingers along the author's elfin-like right ear, smiling with amusement as the young brunette sighed contentedly. "A ghr'a mo chro'i," Mia said in her native Gaelic as she snuggled closer to the blonde, "T'a mo cro'i istigh ionat..." Arine had no idea what Mia was saying, but from the way she said it she was able to guess that the author was expressing affection for her. Slowly, Mia's breathing returned to normal and she kissed the blonde reporter's cheek. "Mo mh'ile st'or." Mia whispered tenderly as she positioned Arine onto her back. She then began to undo the blonde's fly, pulling her jeans down as Arine quickly slipped out of her blouse and bra. "T'a gr'a agam duit." the elf purred as she then lay on top of Arine. As their bare breasts touched, Mia cupped the blonde's cheeks in her hands as she kissed her deeply. "Mmmm..." she moaned as she pulled back from Arine's lips, "Do bh'eil'in meala." She then slowly kissed her way from the blonde's jaw to her neck, caressing the reporter's breasts as she did so. Arine breathed deeply as she smiled. There was a gentle beauty in the language Mia was speaking, a romantic ambiance that tickled the ear and stirred the heart. Through Mia's lips it sounded far lovelier than even the most romantic French ever could. She looked down to see the author continuing to kiss her way down her body, stopping once she reached her navel. Mia gently rubbed Arine's abdomen with her right hand as she began to tug the blonde's panties off with the left, all the while continuing to speak soothing words of love to her in the language of her youth. Once the panties were off, Mia bent back down. Arine suddenly gasped in a large breath of air as she felt Mia's mouth and tongue began to explore her. As the brunette held onto the reporter's hips with both hands to hold her steady she licked around the blonde's labia before sticking her tongue inside her. Arine reached down and put her hands behind Mia's head, her eyes closing and her jaw going slack as she started to breathe heavily. She could feel an orgasm beginning to build up within her, and struggled even as her body began to tense up to try to prolong the release as long as possible. Finally, as Mia sucked on Arine's clit, the blonde came. When it was over, the author crawled up next to her and pulled her into an embrace. The two women fell asleep in each other's arms not long after. .... "I'm sorry sir," the redhead woman in the brown skirt said, "but as I've already explained, we cannot give out the home address of Miss Shea, she..." "Oh come now." Donovan O'Brian said, smiling at the middle-aged woman as he turned on his Irish charm, "I've come all the way across the Atlantic, on behalf of the Mia Shea fan club back in Dublin, Ireland, in order to interview the writer and..." "Fan club?" the woman asks, "Only one novel, and she already has a fan club?" "Well..." O'Brian said nervously, "I..." "I'm sorry then." the woman said, "But I truly cannot give out that sort of information without the author's permission. You see, she's something of a recluse." "I see." the burly Irishman said as he struggled to keep his anger under control. "If it helps though," the woman said, "Miss Shea is going to be giving an interview to the fanzine Amazing Fantasy." "Amazing Fantasy?" O'Brian asked as he narrowed his eyes, "You wouldn't happen to have an address for their home office, would you?" ------ End Notes: The language Mia was speaking in was Irish Gaelic. "A ghr'a mo chro'i" means "My heart's beloved." "T'a mo cro'i istigh ionat" is a term of endearment which translates literally as, "My heart is within you." "Mo mh'ile st'or" literally translates to "my thousand treasures," and has the same meaning as "Darling." "T'a gr'a agam duit" means "I love you." "Do bh'eil'in meala" translates to "Your honey mouth."
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