It was a chilly autumn Sunday. The leaves rustled in the wind, flashing their golds and coppers and reds like so many sparrow wings. The trumpets and drums called to them on the breeze, and the troupe of fairies followed their music to the fair.
Townspeople waved as the fairies entered the gates. Children dashed through the dusty streets, shouting and playing tag. The air was permeated with the smells of baking bread, roasting meat, and the yeasty tinge of mead. The slight nip in the air caused passersby to close their cloaks, or wrap their scarves more tightly about their heads. Even the Littlest Fairy was bundled up against the chill.
There were so many things to see. Shops bustled with activity, their wares proudly displayed in windows and on trestle tables set out near the road. Ladies strolled by, donned in rich fabrics of aubergine, emerald, and burgundy. A man with more hair on his chin than on his head milled through the crowd, carrying a basket of flowers he was selling for a shilling. The sun peeked out from beneath the clouds, and the merry troupe continued on their way.
Suddenly the horns blared, and a scrappy young man leaped onto a hay bale near the center of town. “The King is coming! The King is coming!” he shouted. And the crowd parted to allow the royal family to pass.
The Queen was regal in her midnight blue gown, her crown gilded and topped with rubies. The King was fit and robust, his fur-lined cape just barely dragging in the dust of the street. They were followed by ladies-in-waiting, court jesters, and men carrying swords. The King’s Bravest Little Knight stood nearby, keeping his eye on the crowd pressing in for the King’s favor.
The troupe continued their way through town, stopping only for piping hot chocolate to warm their hands and their bellies. As the day grew warmer, the Littlest Fairy was able to take off her sweater and cap, and stretch her wings into the sunshine. Her fairy godparents was proud to show her off to the world.
As morning turned to afternoon, a certain Brave Little Knight decided it was high time for an adventure. And so, he led the troupe to the training structure, deep into the woods, where he climbed to the very tip-top and dazzled them all with his braverism.
Giggles wafted away into the autumn breeze.
Meanwhile, the Littlest Fairy grew sleepy. After all, it is hard work to flutter your wings all day, especially when they are so tiny. And so, her lovely eyelids grew heavy, and with a tiny sigh, she fell fast asleep in her godmother’s arms.
She slept, and she snoozed, and her fairy godmother snuggled her close, as was her job.
The day grew balmy, and the troupe continued their journey through the town. The Brave Little Knight, weary from carrying the weight of his armor, shed it in lieu of more comfortable clothing. He whispered in the Littlest Fairy’s ear, and off they went, to share yet another adventure. There was painting, and bubbles, and games, and story telling to keep them all enthralled.
Before they knew it, the sun began to sink behind the trees. Shopkeepers swept the dust from their stores and drew the shutters. The King and Queen headed back to their castle. And the troupe left, their wings only slightly droopy, exhausted from their day of fun.
It was a day of laughter. Of good food and great friends. Of knights and horses and princes and fairies.
And this fairy godmother can’t wait to do it all again next year.