The hospital room seems cold to Ella's face and toes. She's not exactly cozy in the bed, but at least she seems to have an extra blanket now that's keeping her core sufficiently warm. She sways her head to the left as her eyes flutter open again – is this the hundredth time today? – finding the lights and beeps of the nearby equipment and monitors oddly consoling. In and out of sleep for the last few hours, she's physically exhausted, but looking forward to getting back to life as normal. The new normal, not the previous normal.

She rolls her head to the right, her attention drawn by the pattering of the light rain against the window, descending from the cold, gray winter sky. Leafless branches sway in the whipping wind. It must be early afternoon, as she recalls having a few spoonfuls of hot soup and a few swallows of juice for lunch a few dozes ago. She is deep in thought, identifying the similarities between her current circumstances and a previous life event. She recalls the last time she was not feeling so well and looking out a window onto a rainy landscape.

• § • § • § • § • § •

Ella was jolted awake by her head hitting the window she was slumped against. The ride wasn't supposed to be this bumpy. Modern motor coaches were supposed to be smooth and comfortable. Maybe it was her pissy mood, maybe her headache, maybe the fact that breakfast wasn't agreeing with her – she knew she couldn't blame the driver or the coach or the tour company, but she surely wanted to blame someone for her misery.

After four years of marriage, each rockier than the last, this was supposed to be a trip to set things right. Lucas wasn't good with money, spending more than he should have for, well, most things, including this vacation. Sure, it was nice, airfare and train rides to get them to and around the UK, choice accommodations, classy meals and a bottle of wine each night. But somehow this felt empty, a temporary release before being thrown back into the reality of life back at home: the reality of a precarious employment situation with mounting debt and no savings; the reality of “friends” who encouraged living beyond their means; the reality of nagging parents wanting grandkids, at odds with her fears of botching the responsibility of bringing another human into this world, not to mention into the romanceless relationship that seemed to have less of a chance to succeed with each passing month.

They had it together on the outside, posting cute photos to their social media accounts over the previous few days, hoping that the Likes and Comments would provide the validation that they craved. The same validation that gave them a bump when responses to news of their indulgences came their way, such as their downtown condo almost two years before. But superficial fleeting reactions seemed only to magnify their need for true fulfillment.

Even sex was infrequent and mechanical at this point. Vacation sex was supposed to be exciting, and Ella had high hopes that the change of scenery would bring about a change of attitude, with him spending time attending to her emotional as well as physical needs. But the one time they had done it that week, it felt just like it always did, like he was still just using her to quickly get himself off.

As the coach made another slow, rocking turn, Ella's eyes caught her reflection; she wiped away the tear that was camouflaged by the rain-streaked window. Today was supposed to be one of the highlights of the trip: a day-long bus tour with a group to explore the lush fields and dramatic cliffs and rugged hills on the Isle of Syke in the Northwest of Scotland. If there was one thing that held these two together, it was their appreciation of nature and spending time in the outdoors, something their life at home mostly lacked nowadays. She had been looking forward to enjoying this day, but with the condition of the weather and her head and stomach, the hope of a great time was fading fast.

With a final bump and hiss from the air brakes, the coach drew to a stop, and the passengers scurried to depart, aided by Owen the tour guide finishing whatever cultural knowledge he was trying to impart to the tourists. Ella made her way down the aisle behind Lucas, wanting to punch that display at the front of the coach that read “9°C”. The best math she could do was to guess that the temperature in Fahrenheit was in the forties. She snugged up her jacket and scarf around her neck and stepped out into the gray, cold wind. Late May, well into Spring, and the weather was like this? Fuck.

“Well, I doubt we'll be happening upon any of those faeries Owen was talking about,” Lucas said.

“Oh yeah, this is the Faerie Glen? Why wouldn't there be faeries?”

“Um, yeah.” Obviously she wasn't listening when Owen was telling them about the myths of the mischievous faeries who were said to inhabit the Glen and inflict malevolence upon unwelcome visitors. “I don't think even they'd be fool enough to be out in this weather.”

As Ella and Lucas made their way through the rolling meadow, the surrounding swirling mist partially obscured the scenery, lush green mounds and rocks stretching in every direction. The horizon was too near, as the light rain blended into the gray sky just a few hundred yards away.

“You're not feeling well?” Lucas' voice sounded more disappointed than concerned for her.

“No, the bumpy ride, not doing well for my stomach, that's for sure.”

“Ugh, sorry.” He was probably trying to comfort her, but they weren't very good at this sort of thing.

“And I have a headache.” And I'm fucking cold, she thought, but what was the point of even saying it?

They found themselves separated from the group, hearing voices and sighting an occasional red or yellow jacket a ways off, as they trudged up a rock outcropping.

“At least we're out in the fresh air.” Ella tried to put a positive spin on things.

“Interesting how that fog layer is just hanging there,” Lucas observed, looking down into a depression a short distance away.

“Let's go,” Ella offered. “Fog just sitting there means no wind, and this wind is cutting me in half up here!”

The wind indeed let up on their way down the hill. Ella began to feel warmer, and it was no longer raining, but she couldn't even acknowledge the small comforts. As they approached the fog layer, their still surroundings grew eerily but beautifully quiet, allowing them to hear the squishing of their shoes in the saturated turf.

Someone walking slowly in the distance, almost enveloped by the fog, captured their attention. Glancing at each other briefly, they wordlessly decided to continue, not able to discern if the person was walking toward them or away. It was soon evident that the figure was a female, as they had closed the gap between them enough to recognize the curve of her hips as they slowly swayed, and then the jutting of her breasts as she turned. They came to one of the dykes Owen had pointed out earlier on the ride: a low wall of stone and earth, stretching into the fog in each direction, with a small gap, as if to invite them through.

They were now close enough to the woman to see that she was naked, but somehow didn't even consider her nudity odd or alarming, or even sexual. Her natural state was simply a feature of the pure landscape.

Removed from the harshness of the rain and wind, they both considered their jackets were too much for the area into which they had wandered, taking them off and laying them on the wall along with Ella's scarf. Without a word, they stepped through the gap in the dyke, as if responding to the woman's unspoken invitation.

Silhouetted against a soft orange glow now emanating from the mist beyond her, the woman slowly walked in tight circles, leading them to join her, not only in her direction but also in her natural state of undress. Neither of the two thinking about their act consciously, they slowly removed each other's clothes, laying them on the wall, until they were as naked as the mysterious woman. Their bare feet made depressions in the tall, soft grass as they plodded ahead, unaware of any particular temperature change, still feeling the cool air, but mysteriously unbothered, even soothed by it.

As they walked hand in hand toward the glow the woman had entered, Ella smiled a smile she hadn't smiled in years, the sour feeling in her stomach replaced by butterflies she hadn't felt in years. She couldn't remember the last time Lucas had held her hand as they walked. Fingers intertwined, he squeezed gently, and she reciprocated.

The woman had stopped by now, and as the couple approached her, her features were clear, lit by the small fire that was the source of the glow. She was an ageless beauty, perhaps as young as early thirties or as mature as fifties, tall and graceful, her soft complexion and curves giving the impression that she had spent a stress-free life traversing the Glen and eating only what its nature bestowed. Adorning her fair skin, her lush, dark pubic hair matched the long, wavy locks that spilled off her shoulders.

Lucas turned toward Ella, drawing her close. She felt his protective hands roam over her back and his bare chest press against her breasts, a loving embrace she hadn't experienced in years. She was always shy about sex, occasionally annoyed at his almost insistence to push boundaries, but somehow now she felt no shame, no anxiety, only comfort, in the presence of this woman. The couple stood, his face bent to hers, enjoying a series of sensual, passionate, loving kisses. She smiled and giggled at his hardness, first on its own presenting itself to her stomach, then its growth encouraged by the caresses of her hand.

Spinning half way round and backing into her husband, Ella reached up behind her head to run her fingers through his hair and along his face, surprised but not startled at the sight now before her. Two more small fires crackled, and two more nude women – girls really – stood behind them. They were perhaps in their late teens, with the same smooth, fair skin as the older one, though their silky hair, both framing their lovely freckled faces and blooming between their slender thighs, shone strawberry blonde in the light of the flames. The two could have been sisters, perhaps protégées or even daughters of the elder woman.

There was no embarrassment, no attempt to cover their nakedness or cease their sensual touches. Ella relished her husband's hands roaming over her body, his stiff manhood aligned with her lower back as he caressed and lifted her breasts and pushed his fingers through her bush and between her legs. The two, properly rediscovering each other as lovers again, spun and embraced, kissed and caressed. They didn't even consider swiping and stroking each other's engorged and slickened most private parts as indecent in the presence of their hostesses. The women were not an audience, not voyeurs, but almost attendants, even facilitators.

Lucas knelt, looking up into Ella's eyes as his kisses and caresses admired and attended to her stomach, her thighs, her breasts, and to her back and buttocks as he guided her through several turns. Even though three other beautiful women were nearby, now swaying slowly in what would ordinarily be an erotic naked dance that would hold any guy's stare, his eyes were only for his wife. She knew he saw them; they weren't an apparition only to her, but he was interested only in her pleasure, her need to be adored. She was the most beautiful, the most desired.

On the ground now together, the two rolled and squirmed, stroking and kissing, fingers and lips and tongues gliding over cheeks, necks, lips, shoulders, chests, ribs, stomachs, hips, buttocks, and thighs. They tasted each other's mouths and skin deeply, fingers providing intense sexual pleasure, his parting her labia and swirling over her swollen bud while hers wrapped his shaft and glans.

The three nymphs didn't convey any sexual pleasure of their own, but they nonetheless were obviously delighted with the couple's intimate display, dancing slowly, swaying and twirling, as they walked slow circles around the couple on the ground in their midst.

Ella was now on her back, the soft turf cradling her, looking up into Lucas' eyes as he lay between her legs. In the absence of the wind, their ears were attuned to distinct sounds: the crackling of the fires, the rustling of the nymphs' bare feet, then their own escalated breathing and scattered kisses from wet lips. And they became aware of a hauntingly beautiful rushing sound, not like steady wind or a stream, but almost a whispered moan broken into syllables like a voice breathing in an ancient unknown language.

Ella felt Lucas fill her, arching her back, knees splayed wide, accepting him deeply with a yearning she hadn't experienced since they were first married. She encircled her arms around his neck, kissing passionately, moaning along with the other faint voice, grinding her hips as she felt him drive into her over and over again. Could it be that he was just a little thicker, just a little harder, angled just a little more pleasurably, now than at any time in the last four years? Could it be that this was authentically, selflessly making love, rather than the mechanical, self-indulgent fucking of the last four years?

After a few minutes of conjugal bliss, wrapping her legs around him, eyes closed, fully enjoying the pleasure of what had for so long not been particularly enjoyable, she looked up, locking eyes with the dark-haired woman as she swayed and sauntered by. One younger lass, and then the other, came into view, the puffy nipples hardened on their small breasts signaling as much approval as their demure smiles and bright eyes.

As the nymphs began to move a little faster, the two lovers rolled and wiggled, Ella ending up on top. She sat up, gyrating, grinding her crotch down on Lucas, fully filled, arms over her head, breasts jiggling, hips thrusting back and forth. Finding her movements mimicking those of the brunette as she passed in front, Ella smiled as she accepted her approving gaze. She felt no embarrassment as then the two girls danced hand in hand past her, glancing at husband and wife as they shared their most intimate expression of love.

Fingers interlocked with Lucas' now, she rode him energetically, determined to give him the same carnal pleasure he was giving her. She locked eyes with him, smiling, panting, the sounds of their labored breathing filling the space around them. She rose and sank on him, feeling the sauntering nymphs' eyes focused with hers on their sex. She was no exhibitionist, far from it, but the openness just felt so natural. Even the wet sounds of their sex perfectly complimented his grunts and her mewls, punctuated by increasingly ragged breaths.

As Ella grabbed handfuls of grass, knees digging into the turf, her hanging, swaying breasts were on offer for Lucas. He gladly accepted their congenial weight, their resistance, the soft flesh surrounding the contrast of the firm, distended nipples at their crests.

As the two continued to thrust into each other, her bare body enticed him to lean up and take one breast into his mouth, then the other, affectionately pleasuring the sensitive nipples and areolae as he sat upright. She wrapped her legs around his waist, leaning back, hair hanging to the ground behind her, saliva-wetted breasts thrust skyward. She moaned and gasped, crushing into him, feeling one strong hand under her back and the other lovingly supporting her head.

There on the grass in the mist and fog of the Faerie Glen, the two revitalized lovers writhed in unison, naked bodies tangled together in intimate bliss, giving themselves to each other, forgetting for a moment that others were looking on.

Ella felt the tingling inside of her building steadily until she couldn't hold the release any longer. She hadn't experienced an orgasm from intercourse for ages, so tears flowed as she held on tightly to ride this one till the end, squeezing and bouncing as she trembled and squealed. Lucas' breathing turned to moaning, and moaning turned into voicing her name. “Oh, Ella... yes. Mmmm, Ella!”

“Mmm, Lucas, yes,” she whispered shakily. When was the last time they had called each other's names during sex? While climaxing? Had they ever?

After a minute of slowly caressing, the two settled into the eerie silence surrounding them. Gone were the flames: each of the nearby fires was reduced to a lightly smoking handful of blackened embers. Gone also was the pattering of the nymphs' feet, as they were nowhere to be seen. Lucas lay back in the grass, and Ella brought her legs back underneath her to lie on top, with him still lodged firmly inside of her.

“I love you, Ella,” he whispered, stroking her back and hair and hips and thighs. She knew he meant it.

“I love you, Lucas.” They shared some more kisses as she wiggled on top of him, not yet willing to abandon their playful intercourse. A minute or so later, she could feel that he was no longer quite so hard or thick. The fullness of him inside of her was now replaced by a warm, slick flood. This was the feeling that she used to find unpleasant and would want to rush to relieve, but now she welcomed it. The naked tangle lasted a few more minutes, neither partner considering that satisfying mutual orgasms had to indicate the end of their lovemaking.

Though the mist had cleared, every direction looked the same. Ordinarily, Ella would have panicked about not knowing where to go or what time it was, and Lucas would have chided her for being so melodramatic. But as they rose to their feet, they calmly scanned their surroundings, soon catching a glimpse of a familiar nude female figure in the distance. They followed after her, soon arriving at the gap in the dyke just as a swirl of fog enveloped her.

Ella and Lucas put their clothes back on, joining the rest of their tour group within a few minutes, still having enough time to explore and enjoy the scenery of the surrounding countryside. They recognized that it was still just as cold, just as windy, just as gray as it had been when they stepped off the bus, but with changed attitudes, they welcomed the conditions as the authentic natural beauty of the Glen. When they got back to the coach, Lucas put his arm gently across her shoulders and guided her in front of him to let her on first. That little gesture shouldn't have been a big deal, but it meant the world to her.

Her headache was gone, and after having a snack when they got seated, she felt much better. On the way off the Isle and back to the city, she felt that touch she hadn't felt for a long time, her husband's hand around her waist and on her thigh, cuddling into her as they gazed out the coach window.

• § • § • § • § • § •

Ella's eyes pop open once again. She smiles as she recounts that holiday last Spring, the gloomy weather failing to hinder a new beginning more beautiful than she could have imagined.

“You awake?” The only thing she has heard for a while now has been the steady beeping of the equipment in the room, so she's a bit startled to hear Lucas' voice. She turns away from the window and finds him smiling down on her from beside her bed.

“Mm, yes. For the hundredth time. Really, I'm tired of sleeping!”

“Well, I can't wait to get you back home. To get all of us back home. The nurse will get here in a few minutes. Hopefully, we'll be all cleared to get out this afternoon.”

“I love you so much.” Ella takes hold of his hand and kisses it before nuzzling it with her cheek. A year ago, she had her doubts that they'd even still be together, or even want to be. The tears of that day on the coach, and for years before that, were tears of pain, of frustration, of hopelessness. Those tears have slowly been replaced by tears of joy, of reconciliation, of renewal, of sacrifice and humility. He's traded video games and sports fandom for exercise, debt-accumulating expenses for frugality and savings, and lame drinking buddies for true friends. Ella, realizing that she was half their problem, has taken responsibility for her direction rather than blaming others or circumstances so much, reconciled a few relationships including within her own family, and backed out of wasting time with a group of drunken gossipy ladies she had mistaken as friends.

It will be two more years before they're out of debt, but they can see their progress. They invested in a starter house that's not nearly as fancy as the condo they dumped when the lease was up, but it's affordable, and it's theirs. While learning to cook at home to save money, a few failed recipes have often led to laughter and improvement rather then fighting and blame-casting as they would have before. Their lovemaking is more frequent, more spontaneous, more playful, more pleasurable, more adventurous, more fulfilling.

Ella and Lucas have often discussed what changed. Was it some magic embedded in the Isle, or localized to the Faerie Glen, or to the calm depression beyond that dyke? Was it the mysterious nymphs who imparted some wisdom, or more importantly the resolve to act on it, by osmosis? Whatever it was, they both know it wasn't a spell that could dissipate. There has been genuine fundamental change. Their relationship has been hard work, but rewarding work, these last few months since that mysterious day on the Isle.

Nine months, to be exact.

“And how is the happy couple doing?” A new nurse swings the door open halfway, peeking inside, introducing herself.

“Great, I think,” Lucas answers, giving his wife a kiss on the forehead.

“Tired, ready to go home,” Ella tells her.

“We're getting you discharged, so it'll be this afternoon,” the nurse announces. “And how is this little one doing?”

Ella beams, gently stroking the hair of their newborn baby girl nuzzling her breast. “Ha, sleeping now, but I hear that won't last forever, right?”

The nurse hooks her finger under the tiny pink hand. “Oh, you are a cutie, aren't you? What is your name?”

The proud new mom and dad smile knowingly at each other. Ever since they found out the baby growing inside Ella was a little girl, having realized the date of her birth control's mysterious lapse in effectiveness, there was only one name that could possibly suit their daughter.

They reply in unison, “Her name is Skye.”

“Oh, Skye. I love it. And how did you get such a pretty name?”

They have settled on a shortened PG version to answer this question: the name was simply “inspired by” their visit. But between themselves, they'll always remember the intimate details of the dramatic transformation that began on that blustery Spring day among the nymphs on that enchanted ground beyond the dyke, at the Faerie Glen on the Isle of Skye.