#fairy story

[lepetitdragonvert]

Thumbkin and Other Stories

Text Version by W. K. Holmes

Artist : Barbara C. Freeman (1906-1999)

Blackie & Son Limited

London and Glascow

[whereserpentswalk]

Fae do not have a concept of good and evil. But they do have a concept of fair and unfair. They are creatures of politeness and impolitness. Even when they're doing things that would be horrifying to humans, they do these things with a specific set of rules around them.

Most of their weaknesses are only weaknesses because they see them as making things fair. Fae are physically capable of lying, but they consider it cheating to lie to someone who isn't familiar with the fae. Likewise, fae can create unbreakable curses or unsolvable puzzles, but it's considered improper to do so. Even their material weakness works this way, if a fae is cut by an iron sword they'll but hurt by it because it was the polite thing to do.

They'll also always match the power level of any human who wanders into the fae realms, so the human in question never meets a challenge they can't overcome. When a knight of the Holy Roman Empire and his men tried to conquer part of the fae realms in 1126 the fae fought like medieval soldiers, using tactics and strategies that would be clever and strange but understandable to him and his men, the numbers of warriors never being too much for him to defeat, even when he could. And when the D.T.L paranormal containment organization sent in modern soldiers with firearms and gas masks to assassinate the fae Queen of Winter Dawn in 2004, the fae responded accordingly, with ranged weapons, and hit and run tactics, that a modern commander could play off of. And, in 1873, when three children got lost in the fae realms, deeper then any human who had been lost there before or after, the fae filled their path of peril with puzzles and traps that the children could solve. One of the children ended up having her eyes turned into spiders, and all of them were traumatized, but it's the fairness the counts to the fae. When you're billions of years old you just care about different things.

And of course. There are some fae that break the rules, fae who will truly do everything in their power to affect the world. These fae are useally exiled from the fae realms, to far off and desolate planes, where they wander and seek power. They are truly terrifying creatures, though in the places they are sent they can rarely use their power. Few who encounter them who aren't their loyal servents escape with both their lives and their humanity.

And of course, fae politeness isn't universal. It applies to humans, and to other fae, and to some other entities. But when there's a true threat to the existence of the fae they will use everything in their power to stop it, polite or impolite. When the star spawn and the great old ones attempted their invasion of the fae in 700MYA they were very promptly destroyed, and pushed back using horrors humanity can't comprehend, horrors the star spawn could barely comprehend. And when the demons on the 8th abyss attempted their invasion in 10MYA they were given almost an equal horror, spared only from pure destruction because they fae found such creatures to be useful.

[may12324]

Tilly and Spina- her arch-nemesis! Her Rival! The thorn in her side! foiling all her plans and adventures...but she's also cute and has nice hair so it's not so bad

[weirdlookindog]

Norman Lindsay (1879-1969) - Fairy Story

illustration from Hugh McCrae's "Colombine", 1920

source

[damonziitoed]

[thebeautifulbook]

PHANTASTES: A Faerie Romance by George Macdonald (London: Chatto & Windus, 1894).

source

[jspinkmills]

Absolutely delicious! Emily is a fantastic character and I loved everything about this book. Set in an alt 1900s version of our world and written as an academic field journal for a research trip, the style of prose was a refreshing change of pace. I’m looking forward to book 2!

[catladychronicles]

Mewingham Manor - 2002🧚🏻‍♀️

[artgletic]

what if they were hollow knight

[wherethefaeriesdwell]

Irish Faery Story Book "Where the Faeries Dwell"

Hi all!

I am so incredibly proud of my mother who has published her very first book, "Where the Faeries Dwell".

She really put her heart and soul into creating a beautiful book of short stories based on the tales her Grandmother told her as a child about the interactions between humans and the Sidhe, the Faery folk of Irish mythology. These stories used to be passed down in the oral tradition by people gathering around the fireside, eagerly awaiting to hear stories of the Seanachai that would leave them spellbound and feeling a greater connection to their heritage. Even through all the turbulent times Ireland went through, these stories survived. If you or your family also enjoyed hearing fairy tales while growing up, this is a wonderful book to read.

She has set herself up online for people wanting to buy the book! I will link the two websites on my page if you are interested in checking it out and if you have any questions, feel free to drop me a message and I’ll be happy to help :)

Go raibh mile maith agat <3

[lepetitdragonvert]

The Snow Queen by Hans Christian Andersen

Artist : Errol le Cain (1941-1989)

[ahedderick]

Missing

   I miss the days of children’s books. Packed away in the attic is a copy of

Which was just awesome. It has all the little poems about flowers, each with an illustration, but it also has a short story or two in the back. The Fairy Necklaces

is one that I liked a lot; sweet and charming without being saccharine or silly. She managed a surprisingly sensible, reasonable ending for a ‘fairy story’, plus the adults,

when Jenny turns up with a sudden hoard of literal fairy jewelry, all believe her. The grown-ups around her just pivot neatly from grinding poverty to helping her figure out what to do with handfuls of gemstones and gold (and this is crucial) without pissing off the fairies who gifted them to her. It’s just the sweetest little story.

Oh, hey, it’s on the internet archive!

https://archive.org/details/completebookoffl00bark/page/166/mode/2up

[fairy-story]

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[raquel-lopez]

La vida de las hadas

Pintura de Hans Zatzka (Austria, 1859-1945)

[andalon-historian]

Sir Kay, for his part, considered his role in the evening's affairs complete. He was the steward, and he would stew, now that the stew was devoured and the dinner done with all but a dance or two.

He sat down on a mossy old tree stump, slowly, painfully, and placed his crutch to the side. The blue carpet of stars glimmered through the trees' outstretched hands, silhouetting the damp, mulchy soil. He took in a deep breath. It was earthy, but it counted as a breath of fresh air after too long in the main hall.

He sighed. He did like the kitchen work, right? He started back when he could fight any knight but Lancelot; he didn't only start... now.

But it's different. "Now" makes it different.

He heard a rustle in the brush up ahead. "Who goes there?," he called, expecting a cat or a badger.

Instead, a small man walked out. He was four feet tall, but broad as the tallest knight, with a big round torso to fill it all up. His dress was in the elite style, all hemmed and buttoned and vested, but the texture looked scratchy and unhewed, and up the back it was covered in bright green moss. He had a plain iron axe strapped to his back, and a scratchy-looking inky black beard that crawled up his face and almost covered up rose-red eyes.

"No one, milord," the man said, "A simple fairy folk, nothing to be alarmed."

Kay raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you be hoping I don't notice that? Trying to trick me into something or other?"

"Is that what ye think of me, milord?" The man's eyes seemed to twinkle. "An me here just tryna be your humble servant."

"Ah," said Kay, "I see what this is." He smiled and leaned back. "Arthur's told me about you, right? You're a dorger."

The dorger-- if that's what he was-- sat cross-legged a few paces away from Kay. He pulled a piece of moss off his bald head and held it over his heart, and said, "why ye out here way from the revels?"

Kay sighed and rolled his eyes. Arthur seemed to think they were harmless, and if he was going to do this it might as well be with someone he'd never see again.

He gestured to his leg. "I'll never walk straight anymore. Not without the crutch," he said, lifted up the support, and dropped it back to the ground.

"What's that got to do with revels?," the dorger asked.

"It only happened a few weeks ago. I haven't... gotten used to it."

"So you can't revel until you're used to it. I can help you practice!"

"No, sit back down. It's not physical. I used to be a knight."

"Then you're still a knight. You don't lose that, do you?"

"Technically. But I can't joust. And I can't melee. I can't *fight*. All I can do is *steward*. I cook and I plan."

"I see," said the dorger.

"And I love those things! At least I used to. But now-- I don't know. I still do."

"No, no, I understand. This is not a man's work, the running things and being in charge. A man's work is as a foot soldier." The dorger started to stand up.

"What?," said Kay. "No, that's not true at all."

"You don't need to deny it with me; we're alone here. If you can't fight, you can't die!"

"What?"

"You can't be left doing a woman's work, that's reaching above your station!" He put the moss back on his head and drew his simple axe. "Here; I will fight you, and we will put an end to this."

Kay stared stunned, and then expelled a sharp, bitter laugh. "I don't want your pity. It doesn't count if it's a pity-fight."

"Man says pity, I say glory!"

Kay rolled his eyes. "Where's the glory in letting me win?"

That managed to give the smaller man pause. He lowered his axe for a second to think, and then said "Why would I let you win? I'm going to defeat you bluntly and cut off your head."

Kay sputtered and caught himself "...What? Why?"

"You're in the king's household, milord. It would be such a shame to let you die of old age."

The dorger made a lunge then, and Kay rolled out of the way onto his bad side and let out a cry. He grabbed his support and flung it up to parry the axe, which embedded itself in the hard wood with a crack. Supine, with the blade in his crutch, he grabbed its handle and kicked the dorger with his able foot, and again, and on the third kick with a heaving "oof!" the dorger tumbled backwards feet over head.

Kay dropped the axe and grabbed his leg in pain, squeezing his eyes shut, controlling his breathing. With a final "agh" he sat up, and the fairy man was gone.

[thebeautifulbook]

THE MAGIC FISHBONE: Romance from the Pen of Miss Alice Rainbird aged 7 by Charles Dickens (London/New York: Warne, 1922) Illustrated by F.D. Bedford.