STORYTIME: THE TALE OF THE YULE FAIRY

STORYTIME: THE TALE OF THE YULE FAIRY

Kristin Lisenby Kristin Lisenby
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Otto was the stereotypical Prince; wealthy, powerful, and handsome. But he had no heart. Or at least that’s what the villagers said about their soon-to-be-king. Even on his days off, Otto thought of nothing but hunting, conquering, and ruling with an iron fist. But that all changed when he met the Yule Fairy.

It was the eve of the Winter Solstice, a magical day, and the prince had gone hunting with the rest of his team. Despite his familiarity with the woods, the young hunter took a wrong that led him deeper into the forest than he’d ever been before.

Soon, he was lost.

The prince stopped and dismounted his horse, hoping to survey his surroundings and regain his sense of direction. But the only landmarks were walls of trees and one bubbling, freshwater spring.

Now, these springs were well-known fairy ponds, but the prince was parched from his adventures. He bent down to take a drink, and then instinctively (but without reason), plunged his hands into the enchanted pool.

Instantly, the prince remembered where his horse had veered left instead of right, and could see in his mind’s eye the quickest route back to the castle. But before he could remove his hands from the water, a woman’s hand emerged from the depths and seized his gold ring.

The prince was intrigued but not angry. In his opinion, the ring was a fair trade for the gift of sight.

Besides, what else could one expect from a fairy pond?

But later that night, long after the prince returned from the woods and retired to his chambers, he couldn’t stop thinking about that unusual encounter. He paced all night until dawn lit up the sky, and the sound of tinkling bells began…

The man followed the music from one room to another until he reached the dining hall, where a group of fairies danced around an enormous tree. The tree was magnificent! It smelled of evergreen and earth, and was covered in shiny ornaments, silver webs, and a beautiful angel perched at the very top.

She was no angel, of course, and when she floated down to face the prince, she introduced herself as the Yule Fairy. She spoke of the woods, the pond, and the gold ring, which by the way, was the reason she was there.

But instead of thanking the fairy for returning his jewelry or asking about the spell that guided him through the forest, the prince said nothing. Maybe it was the sparkling tree, the bells, or dare we say, love, but the man and Yule Fairy danced from dawn until dusk.

And despite all the dancing, the prince had never felt more alive. He asked the Yule Fairy to accept him as her husband, and she agreed—under one condition:

Never speak of death in her presence.

The man accepted her request, which seemed too good to be true, and the pair were happily married for years. The prince became a king, and her, his loyal queen. But as time passed, Otto fell back into his old ways. He became complacent, cold, and obsessed with his duties and power. Eventually (as humans tend to do), he forget about the magic of the earth—and therefore, his wife.

And then that fateful day arrived when the king’s temper was ablaze, and the Yule Fairy arrived at dinner later than usual:

“Why wife, you’ve taken so long to join us; you’re lucky Death has not come for me in your absence.”

Bitterness soured the king’s tongue, and he immediately regretted his words. He looked to his fairy bride with the hope that she had not heard his admission, but she was already gone.

The king searched the grounds for weeks. He hired the best trackers and dogs to help locate the tinkling bells that now haunted the woods. The villagers (who adored their fairy queen) visited the forest ponds and left golden rings as offerings.

The king never saw his love again, but each year until Death finally arrived for him, he decorated a magnificent tree in her honor. He strung up shiny ornaments and draped silver webs on every branch. He rested an angel at the very top and whispered a prayer into the roots:

May the Yule Fairy return to me this solstice eve, if only for a single dance with a sorry soul who does indeed, have a heart.

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This retelling was adapted from the German tale “The Christmas Fairy of Strasburg” by Francis Jenkins Alcott

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