Once upon a time, there was great sorrow among the fairy folk. Something had happened to the Fairy Queen, Titania. She had fallen asleep and would not wake up.
The winter had come, terribly cold and full of ice and snow. In the fairy wood, no fires were burning. The seed babies were safely tucked in their beds, deep under Mother Earth’s coverlet of leaves and moss. The gnomes and dwarves were working deep underground. The water sprites waited under their ice roof, which covered the crystal lake and bubbling brook.
Most of the fairy folk, those who tend the flower children in meadows and forests, were left to wander through the winter, seeking warmth and shelter. They sought these in the homes of mortals, hoping to rest beside the fires both in castle and in hovels. Where ever fairy stories were being told at night or where ever Christmas…
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