Week 5 Story: How I Became King of The Fairies

 Bibliography: Bibliography: Twenty-Two Goblins, translated by Arthur Ryder

Photo by Mat Reding on Unsplash

- How I Became King of The Fairies -

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    One evening, as I was tucking my son into his bed, he asked me, "Father, what did the Flower Fairy want at dinner today?"

    "Oh, he was giving me an update on the arrival of Spring and their preparations," I explained.

    "Is he king of the fairies?" he asked.

    I shook my head. "No."

    "Are you king of the fairies?"

    "Well..." I said, "It's complicated. The fairies have their own queen, of course, but long ago I was granted by a goblin the human title of 'king of the fairies.'"

    He sat up. "A goblin?" His eyes were twinkling with delight.

    And so I told him the story of how I came to be king of the fairies.

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There was a time when an old Monk visited my court everyday. And everyday, he brought me a piece of fresh fruit from his orchard. He was so kind, the old man, and he was certainly committed. Every day without fail, he brought me fruit for twelve years. Twelve whole years. And not one time did I actually eat the fruit he brought me. You see, we had our own deal with local orchards and had their fruits brought in, so that's the fruit we always ate. As kind as the old Monk was, I wanted to pass the kindness forward. So everyday I gave the fruit to my treasurer, who each week would put a box of the fruits in the village for anyone who wanted them. 

And so the years passed by, and we started noticing these beautiful gems in the markets and in the jewelry. I disguised myself one day and went into the village, and asked a small child where all these expensive gems had come from.

"Why," he said, "we get them from this box here." And he pointed to the box the treasurer brought each week, some fruit still in it." Then the child went and played with his friends.

Doubtingly, I picked up a fruit from the box and took a bite. Just fruit, I thought. I sat on the edge of the fountain eating and watching the town folk, thinking I'd ask someone else where the gems were from, when I bit into something hard. To my bewilderment, I pulled a bright purple gem from out of my mouth. The children finished playing and grabbed the remaining fruits, ate them, and then compared their shiny prizes. I couldn't believe it.

So later that day when the Monk came bearing yet another fruit, I asked him why he's given me these hidden gems. And he asked me a favor:

"O King, I serve you loyally. If you find it in your heart, I have a favor to ask."

I told him to name anything. I admired his donations to me and therefore to our village.

"O King, at nightfall, will you meet me by the fig tree?"

I agreed, and at nightfall, I disguised myself and went to the fig tree where he was standing.

"O King, I am so glad you've come. Please, sir, down by the cemetery. There is a body hanging, and it is being inhabited by a goblin. Will you please cut it down and bring it here to me?"

So I walked the long road down to the cemetery, and there was a body hanging from a big tree, and this is how I met the goblin that named me king of the fairies.

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I cut the body down, and it made a loud OOF. I threw it over my shoulder and began walking back to the Monk at the fig tree. The goblin laughed at me, and suddenly the body was once again hanging from the large tree. So I cut it down again and threw it over my shoulder and began walking to the fig tree. The goblin, surprised at my patience, decided to play a game. He would tell me a story, and afterwards he would ask me a question. If I answered correctly, he would go back to the tree; if I answered wrong, he would tell another; if I knew the answer but pretended not to, my head would explode.

We went through many stories and riddles that night, and my feet grew weary from walking. But I persisted, and in fact, I enjoyed his company and his tales. Finally, after some twenty-two stories, I didn't know the answer to one. He admired my efforts, and told me that, when I reached the fig tree, the Monk would perform a ritual and ask me to lay on the ground where he would cut off my head, and he would be granted king of the fairies. The goblin spoke of his character, quite opposite to the impression he gave with the fruit, and the goblin told me that when the Monk asked me to lay down, that I should ask him to show me and then I cut off his head.

When I reached the fig tree, the Monk performed his ritual and things, and then he asked me to lie on the ground. I said, as a king, I did not know what he meant, could he show me? So he laid on the ground to show me, and I cut off his head with my sword. The goblin celebrated and so did the forest folk, and the goblin told me that now I was king of the fairies. 

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    "But what does it mean to be king of the fairies?" My son asked.

    "It means many things, son. But most importantly it's about keeping a balance between our kind and theirs. Protecting their communities, their land, their secrets. I may have the title of king, but I do not instruct them to do anything they don't want to do. Here and there I ask favors or make suggestions, but I am more honored to be in their presence than them in mine."

    And with that, I kissed his forehead and wished him magical dreams, knowing there would be fairies buzzing around his head throughout the night, constructing only the best thoughts for him.

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Note: The original stories included the Monk and the gems in the fruit, the fig tree, the hanging body, the goblin and his stories, the ritual, the death of the Monk, and the resulting title granted by the goblin. I retold the story like a father tells his son a bedtime story, and I added some characterization to the king. In the actual story, the fruit is thrown out, but I wanted the king to seem like a kinder man deserving of the title. I also wanted to elaborate on what I think it would mean to be king of the fairies, and how the king in this story would have treated that title.