The Fairy Midwife

In the green hills of County Cork, where the mist rises from the valleys at dawn and ancient stone circles mark the places where the old gods once walked, there lived a midwife whose skill was renowned throughout the land. Bridget O’Brien was her name, and it was said that no woman ever lost a child under her care, and no mother ever failed to recover from even the most difficult birth. But what the people did not know was that Bridget’s greatest skill lay not in the mortal world, but in attending births that took place beyond the veil that separates our realm from the land of the fairies.

The Skilled Healer

Bridget O’Brien had learned her craft from her grandmother, who had learned it from her grandmother before her, in an unbroken line stretching back to the ancient days when the healing arts were gifts from the goddesses themselves. She lived in a small cottage on the edge of the village, surrounded by gardens where she grew the herbs and plants that aided her in her work.

Her cottage was always filled with the scent of chamomile and lavender, rosemary and sage, and dozens of other healing plants that she dried and prepared according to recipes passed down through generations. Pregnant women would come to her from miles around, seeking her gentle care and the comforting teas she brewed to ease their discomfort.

“Bridget has hands blessed by the angels,” the village women would say to each other as they drew water from the well. “When she’s with you, you know that all will be well.”

But Bridget herself knew that her gift came from something older and more mysterious than the Christian angels. Sometimes, as she worked, she could feel another presence guiding her hands, teaching her which herbs to use, showing her exactly how to help a struggling child enter the world. And sometimes, in the corner of her eye, she would catch glimpses of figures that seemed to shimmer like heat waves on a summer day.

The First Summons

It was on a night when the full moon hung low and silver over the hills that Bridget first received a summons from the otherworld. She had been sleeping peacefully in her bed when a soft knocking came at her door - not the urgent pounding of a desperate husband, but a gentle tapping like raindrops on leaves.

When she opened the door, she found a man standing in her garden, tall and pale with eyes like winter starlight. He was dressed in fine clothes of green and silver that seemed to shimmer in the moonlight, and when he spoke, his voice had the musical quality of wind chimes in a gentle breeze.

“Bridget O’Brien,” he said, “your skill as a midwife is known even in the realm beyond mortal sight. We have need of your services, and we offer fair payment for your aid.”

Something about the stranger told Bridget that this was no ordinary request. The very air around him seemed to hum with otherworldly power, and the shadows bent strangely in his presence.

“Who are you, and where would you take me?” she asked, though her heart already knew the answer.

“I am Finnegan of the Sidhe,” he replied, “and I come from the hollow hills where the Tuatha Dé Danann make their home. One of our ladies is with child, and the birth promises to be difficult. We have heard of your skill and your discretion, and we would have you attend her.”

Bridget felt both fear and excitement course through her veins. To be called to the fairy realm was both a great honor and a dangerous undertaking. But her healer’s instincts overrode her caution.

“I will come,” she said. “But I must have your word that I will be safely returned to my home when my work is done.”

“You have my oath,” Finnegan replied solemnly. “No harm will come to you while you are under my protection.”

Journey to the Otherworld

Finnegan led Bridget to a grove of ancient oak trees that she had known since childhood, but now they seemed different somehow - taller, more imposing, filled with shadows that moved independently of the wind. As they approached the largest oak, Finnegan placed his hand upon its trunk and spoke a word in the old tongue.

The tree began to shimmer and fade, revealing a doorway of silver light that led into what appeared to be a hillside. Beyond the threshold, Bridget could see corridors of smooth stone lit by crystals that glowed with their own inner fire.

“This is one of the ways between the worlds,” Finnegan explained as he gestured for her to follow him through the doorway. “Step carefully, and touch nothing unless I give you leave.”

As they passed through the silver portal, Bridget felt a tingling sensation, as if her very essence was being gently transformed. The world beyond was unlike anything she had ever imagined - halls of impossible beauty carved from living stone, gardens where flowers sang softly in harmonious chorus, and pools of water that reflected not just images but dreams and memories.

The fairy folk they passed were beautiful beyond mortal understanding, tall and graceful with faces that seemed to shift subtly in the crystal light. Some nodded respectfully to Bridget, recognizing her purpose, while others observed her with curious eyes that held depths of ancient wisdom.

“Remember,” Finnegan warned quietly as they walked, “accept no food or drink while you are here, speak only when spoken to, and above all, ask no questions about what you see unless it concerns your patient.”

The Fairy Lady’s Chamber

Finnegan led Bridget to a chamber carved from a single enormous crystal that filled the space with soft, rainbow light. The room was furnished with furniture that seemed to be grown rather than made - chairs and tables that looked like they had sprouted from the floor, walls hung with tapestries that moved and changed their patterns as if alive.

In the center of the room, on a bed that appeared to be made from woven moonbeams, lay the most beautiful woman Bridget had ever seen. Her hair was the color of spun gold, her skin had the translucent quality of fine porcelain, and her eyes were like deep pools of spring water. But despite her otherworldly beauty, Bridget could see that she was suffering from the same pains that afflicted all women in labor.

“My lady,” Finnegan said, bowing deeply, “I have brought the mortal midwife as you requested.”

The fairy lady turned her gaze to Bridget, and in her eyes was relief mixed with hope. “Bridget O’Brien,” she said, her voice like silver bells ringing in the distance, “I have heard tales of your skill. Will you help me bring my child safely into this world?”

“I will do everything in my power, my lady,” Bridget replied, setting down her bag of herbs and instruments. “But first, tell me of your condition. How long have you been in labor?”

“Time moves differently here than in your world,” the fairy lady replied. “What seems like hours to me may be days or moments in mortal terms. But the pain has been constant, and the child seems reluctant to be born.”

The Difficult Birth

Bridget examined her patient with the same gentle care she would have shown to any woman in labor, fairy or mortal. What she found concerned her - the baby was positioned awkwardly, and the fairy lady’s otherworldly constitution seemed to be working against the natural process of birth.

“My lady,” Bridget said carefully, “your child is strong, but he is facing the wrong direction. In the mortal world, I would turn him, but I fear that what works for human mothers may not be suitable for one of the Tuatha Dé Danann.”

The fairy lady smiled weakly through her pain. “You need not fear, Bridget O’Brien. Our bodies are not so different from yours, despite what you may have heard. We feel pain and joy, we bleed and heal, we give birth and die just as mortals do. The only difference is that our lifespans are measured in centuries rather than decades.”

Encouraged by these words, Bridget began to work with all the skill she possessed. She brewed teas from herbs she had brought from her own garden, mixed with crystalized dew that Finnegan provided. She massaged the fairy lady’s back with oils that glowed faintly in the crystal light, and she spoke words of encouragement and comfort as she had to countless mothers before.

Slowly, carefully, she managed to turn the baby to the proper position. The fairy lady’s labor intensified, but now it progressed as it should. Other fairy women had come to assist, moving with liquid grace as they provided warm cloths and soothing music that seemed to ease the laboring mother’s pain.

The Magical Birth

When the moment of birth finally arrived, it was unlike anything Bridget had ever experienced. As the baby emerged into the world, the entire chamber filled with a light so pure and beautiful that Bridget had to shield her eyes. The child’s first cry was like the sound of silver trumpets, and the very air seemed to shimmer with joy.

The baby boy was perfect in every way, with his mother’s golden hair and his father’s winter-blue eyes. But what amazed Bridget most was that as she cleaned and swaddled the infant, she could see a faint aura of power surrounding him, marking him as one destined for great things in the fairy realm.

“He is beautiful, my lady,” Bridget said, placing the baby in his mother’s arms. “And he is strong. He will grow to be a great prince among your people.”

The fairy lady gazed down at her son with such love and happiness that Bridget felt tears come to her own eyes. “Thank you, Bridget O’Brien,” she whispered. “You have given me the greatest gift possible - my child’s safe arrival in this world.”

As the new mother nursed her baby for the first time, the other fairy women began to sing - a lullaby so beautiful that Bridget felt her own heart swell with joy. The chamber filled with a sense of peace and contentment that seemed to banish all thoughts of pain or sorrow.

The Payment

When the immediate concerns of the birth had been attended to and both mother and child were resting comfortably, Finnegan approached Bridget with a small bag made of the same shimmering material as his clothes.

“Your payment, as promised,” he said, offering her the bag. “But first, you must choose - would you have gold from the mortal world, or would you accept a different kind of reward?”

Bridget looked at the bag curiously. “What other kind of reward could there be?”

“The sight,” Finnegan replied mysteriously. “The ability to see truly - to look past glamours and illusions, to know when someone speaks truth or lies, to perceive the hidden nature of things that others miss.”

It was a tempting offer, but Bridget was a practical woman. “The sight sounds wondrous,” she said, “but I am a poor midwife with a living to earn. I fear I must choose the gold.”

Finnegan nodded approvingly. “You choose wisely. The sight is a burden as much as a gift, and it often brings more sorrow than joy to those who possess it.”

He handed her the bag, and when Bridget opened it, she found it filled with gold coins unlike any she had ever seen. They were perfectly round and perfectly smooth, and they seemed to glow with a warm inner light.

“This gold will never tarnish or lose its value,” Finnegan explained. “Spend it wisely, and it will always provide for your needs.”

The Return Journey

As they prepared to leave the fairy realm, the lady who had given birth called Bridget to her bedside one final time.

“Before you go,” she said, “I would give you a gift of my own choosing.” She reached up and touched Bridget’s forehead with one delicate finger. “From this day forward, you will never lose a mother or child in birth. The blessing of the Tuatha Dé Danann will be upon your work, and your skill will be greater than any mortal midwife who has ever lived.”

Bridget felt a warm tingling where the fairy lady’s finger had touched her, and she knew that something fundamental had changed within her. “Thank you, my lady. I will use this gift wisely and well.”

The journey back to the mortal world seemed shorter than the journey out, perhaps because Bridget was now familiar with the strange corridors and impossible geometries of the fairy realm. When they reached the silver doorway, Finnegan paused before sending her through.

“Remember, Bridget O’Brien,” he said solemnly, “you have seen things that are not meant for mortal eyes, and you have received gifts that come with great responsibility. Speak of this night to no one, and use your enhanced abilities only for good.”

“You have my word,” Bridget replied, and she stepped back through the doorway into the familiar grove of oak trees.

The Enhanced Gift

From that night forward, Bridget’s reputation as a midwife grew beyond all previous bounds. Women came to her from distant counties, having heard tales of her miraculous skill. And indeed, just as the fairy lady had promised, Bridget never lost a mother or child, no matter how difficult the birth.

But her enhanced abilities went beyond mere medical skill. She found that she could sense when a birth would be difficult days before the labor began, allowing her to prepare special treatments and remedies. She could tell at a glance whether an unborn child was healthy or in distress, and she always seemed to know exactly which herbs and techniques would be most effective.

Her fairy gold, too, proved its worth. No matter how much she spent on supplies for her patients - especially the poor ones who could not afford to pay - the bag never seemed to empty. She was able to help families who desperately needed her services but had no money to offer, knowing that her supernatural payment would sustain her.

The Second Summons

Three years after her first journey to the fairy realm, Bridget received another midnight summons. This time, it was a different messenger - a fairy woman with silver hair and robes that seemed to be cut from starlight itself.

“Bridget O’Brien,” the fairy woman said, “your skill is remembered with gratitude in our realm. We have need of your services once again.”

Without hesitation, Bridget gathered her supplies and followed the fairy woman to a different entrance to the otherworld - this time, a stone circle that opened into a meadow filled with flowers that glowed like tiny lanterns in the eternal twilight of the fairy realm.

This second birth was easier than the first, perhaps because Bridget was now familiar with the unique aspects of fairy physiology. The mother was a noble lady of the court, and her twin daughters were born without complication, their first cries filling the air with music like wind chimes in a gentle breeze.

As payment for this service, Bridget was offered her choice of several magical gifts: a cloak that would make her invisible, a mirror that showed the future, or a pouch of seeds that would grow into any plant she desired.

“The seeds,” Bridget said without hesitation. “A midwife can always use new herbs for her patients.”

The fairy nobles nodded approvingly at her practical choice, and Bridget returned to the mortal world with her new treasure.

The Growing Reputation

Over the following years, Bridget made several more journeys to the fairy realm, each time helping with births that the fairy folk could not manage on their own. She delivered princes and princesses, the children of fairy lords and ladies, and even once assisted at the birth of a baby who was prophesied to become a great hero of the otherworld.

Each successful birth brought new gifts and new blessings. Her garden flourished with magical plants that provided remedies for ailments no mortal doctor could cure. Her cottage became a place of pilgrimage for desperate mothers who had been told their cases were hopeless. And her reputation spread far beyond County Cork, reaching even the noble houses of Dublin and beyond.

But with her growing fame came new challenges. Other midwives became jealous of her success, whispering that she must have made a pact with dark forces. Priests began to ask uncomfortable questions about her miraculous abilities. And occasionally, men of learning would come to examine her methods, hoping to discover the secret of her skill.

The Price of Secrets

Bridget handled these challenges with the wisdom that her fairy encounters had taught her. She shared her knowledge freely with other midwives, teaching them new techniques and providing them with seeds from her magical garden. She attended church regularly and contributed generously to charity, demonstrating that her abilities came from good rather than evil.

But she never spoke of her journeys to the fairy realm, keeping that secret locked in her heart as she had promised. When people asked about her miraculous success rate, she would simply say that her grandmother had taught her well, and that experience was the best teacher of all.

The hardest part was watching other midwives struggle with cases that she could have easily resolved with her fairy-enhanced abilities. But she had learned that some gifts were meant to be used sparingly, and that too much success might draw the wrong kind of attention.

The Final Journey

After twenty years of serving as midwife to both mortal and fairy mothers, Bridget received one final summons to the otherworld. This time, the messenger was Finnegan himself, looking exactly as he had on that first night.

“Bridget O’Brien,” he said, “you have served our people faithfully and well. We would offer you one final choice - remain in the mortal world and continue your work, or come with us to the Land of Promise, where you could serve as midwife to the greatest of the Tuatha Dé Danann for all eternity.”

It was the greatest honor that could be offered to a mortal, and Bridget was deeply moved by the invitation. But after much thought, she gave her answer.

“I am honored beyond words by your offer,” she said, “but my place is in the mortal world. There are women here who need my help, and I cannot abandon them.”

Finnegan smiled with approval. “We hoped you would say that. Your loyalty to your own people is one of the reasons we have valued your service so highly.”

As a final gift, he presented her with a small crystal vial filled with water from the Well of Wisdom in the fairy realm. “One drop of this water will cure any illness, heal any wound, or ease any pain,” he explained. “Use it wisely, for when it is gone, it cannot be replaced.”

The Lasting Legacy

Bridget continued her work as a midwife for many more years, using the crystal vial sparingly but effectively to save lives that would otherwise have been lost. She trained several apprentices, passing on not only her medical knowledge but also the wisdom she had gained from her encounters with the fairy realm.

When she finally grew too old to attend births herself, she became a teacher and advisor to the younger midwives of the region. Though she never revealed the source of her greatest knowledge, she found ways to share its benefits, teaching techniques and remedies that would have been impossible without her fairy education.

Bridget lived to be nearly one hundred years old, which was remarkable in itself for those times. On the night she died, peacefully in her sleep, many people claimed to see lights dancing around her cottage - not the warm yellow light of candles, but the silver-blue glow of fairy magic.

They found her in her bed the next morning, looking younger than she had in decades, with a smile of perfect contentment on her face. And though no one saw them, the fairy folk of the hollow hills mourned her passing, for they had lost not just a skilled midwife but a true friend who had bridged the gap between their world and ours.

The Enduring Tale

The story of Bridget O’Brien became one of the most beloved tales in County Cork and beyond, passed down from mother to daughter along with practical advice about childbirth and healing. It served as a reminder that the fairy folk, whatever their reputation for mischief and danger, could also be grateful and generous to those who served them well.

More importantly, it taught that the greatest gifts - whether magical or mundane - were meant to be used in service of others, and that true wisdom lay in knowing when to keep secrets and when to share knowledge.

Midwives throughout Ireland would invoke Bridget’s name when facing difficult births, asking for her blessing and her guidance. And sometimes, on nights when the moon was full and the mist rose from the valleys, they would catch glimpses of a familiar figure in their peripheral vision - a kindly woman with gentle hands and knowing eyes, still watching over mothers and children in their hour of greatest need.

The cottage where Bridget had lived became a shrine of sorts, and her garden continued to bloom with unusual plants that seemed to possess healing properties beyond the ordinary. Pregnant women would make pilgrimages there, hoping to receive some blessing from the legendary midwife who had served both mortal and fairy mothers with equal skill and compassion.

And in the hollow hills, where the Tuatha Dé Danann still hold court in their crystal halls, the children that Bridget helped bring into the world grew to become great princes and princesses of the fairy realm, their lives a testament to the skill and kindness of the mortal woman who had answered their people’s call for help in their hour of need.