Bedtime Story: Little Blue Flower (Scandinavian Tale)

Fall asleep tonight with this lovely Scandinavian fairytale that is called Little Blue Flower by Miss F. E. Hynam. This lovely tale will take you from the Bohemian Forest all the way to Norway. Sweet dreamzzz...
The music featured in this story is 'Healing Meditation' by meditative (via Envato Market).

Transcript

Welcome,

I'm Joanne and this is Drift Off,

A soft place for you to land at the end of the day.

I'd like to offer you a calming bedtime story tonight,

Softly told,

With a nice,

Soft,

Gentle voice that I hope will help you feel nurtured,

Safe,

And at ease so you can drift off.

So are you ready for a bedtime story?

Well then,

Get comfy and cozy in your bed and snuggle up tight and let me be your guide now.

Sweet dreams my friend,

And good night.

Long ago and far away,

A stork swept high over the bohemian forest.

It was a most important duty that had brought him from his own marshes into this mountainous region where far and wide no croak of a frog could be heard.

In his beak,

He carried two little children,

A boy and a girl,

Both intended for the night who lived in the gloomy fortress below.

Smaller and smaller grew the circles made by the stork in his flight.

Lower and lower he sank towards the earth,

Until at length he rested on the highest chimney of the castle.

Before letting the children slip down the narrow black hole,

He paused and looked carefully around.

Still in the air,

This old castle with its round turrets glittering in the rising sun had appeared to him a most stately edifice.

But now when quite close,

The stork discovered many things that did not please him.

The walls were sadly out of repair.

There were holes in the roof,

While the courtyard was overgrown with weeds.

I do not like this,

Said the stork,

Looking thoughtfully down his long red beak.

This place seems to have a very bad landlord.

A knight who cannot keep his castle in proper repair certainly does not deserve two children.

I will take one away with me.

Now,

Which should he have,

The boy or the girl,

Thought the stork.

He looked once more thoughtfully down his long beak and on to the two children smiling happily in their dreams.

I think I will give him the boy,

He said at length.

He will push his way in this wretched place better than the girl.

With these words,

He made a movement to throw the little boy down the chimney.

This however was not so easy as the stork had thought.

In their sleep,

The little ones had embraced each other and would not let go.

I have never had two such willful little creatures in my beak before,

Exclaimed the stork angrily.

Then he began to shake them,

At first gently,

Then harder,

And at last so roughly that the children half awoke from their dreams and looked at each other with blinking eyes.

After this,

The boy held on even tighter to his companion,

And no wonder,

For the little girl had shown him a pair of blue eyes of such wondrous beauty that there were not many like them in the world.

But the stork,

Now thoroughly angry,

Gave the poor little fellow a kick that sent him head first down the castle chimney.

Now,

What shall I do with the other little thing,

Said the stork thoughtfully,

Scratching the back of his ear.

Ah yes,

I have it,

He cried.

The little girl had kept on blinking her eyes,

And the stork had also seen their beautiful blue.

Such eyes can only belong to Norway.

I overhead soared the stork,

Powerfully his wings clove the air as he sailed away towards the north.

In the midst of the blue Baltic Sea,

A little wooded island lay sparkling like a green jewel.

Here lived Bjorn,

A grim old sea king of Norwegian blood.

Every year he and his men ploughed the sea with their swift ships,

And very rich was the spoil he brought home to his strong castle that stood in the center of the island,

Defended by wall and moat.

To this castle,

The stork bore the little maiden on his strong wings.

Bjorn and his men were sitting in the spacious hall,

Drinking from golden cups the sweet wine they had brought back in their ships from the sunny land of Greece.

Very wild was their joy when the little maiden came down the chimney,

And throughout the whole night their boisterous songs could be heard far across the wide sea,

And the little sparkling waves sang in reply a rushing murmuring song to celebrate the arrival of the young child.

To our sea king a little daughter has been born,

They sang,

A beautiful little maiden with eyes blue as the sea,

Locks fair as the sea foam,

And lips rosy as the morning sunrise that gilds the crest of the waves.

Even the silly fishes rejoiced,

But as they could not sing,

They leapt into the air,

High up out of the waves,

And their scales glittered in the moonlight like gold and silver.

For many days and many nights in celebration,

Bjorn and his crew drank of the pearly wine.

At last,

Bjorn could be idle at home no longer.

His restlessness grew more and more each day that passed,

So he ordered his ships and sailed away,

Leaving the child to whom he had given the name of Swanhild in charge of a faithful nurse.

On this voyage,

Bjorn encountered more storms and enemies than he had ever done before.

Often,

While on the tossing billows,

He thought with longing of the little one at home.

Yet many long years passed before he could finally return home laden with rich spoil.

As he set foot on the little island,

He was greeted by a beautiful maiden with deep blue eyes,

Rosy lips,

And the fair hair of Norway.

Full of joy,

Bjorn clasped his lovely child to his heart.

Then he sat with his men in the castle hall,

Drinking the costly Grecian wine.

Swanhild had never before seen such noisy feasts.

Often,

On moonlit nights,

She would leave the castle and wander alone on the seashore.

One evening,

As she wandered,

Clad in her white garments and with her fair head bent towards the waves,

She was seen by a wicked magician who had flown through the air on a black goat.

He came from the cliffs of Norway,

Where he had been sent to seize the soul of a poor laplander who had stolen his neighbor's reindeer,

And he was now travelling to Blocksburg to take this soul to his master,

A powerful evil spirit.

When the magician saw Swanhild,

He was much delighted.

He had never before beheld anyone so lovely,

But alas,

While he was lost in contemplation of her beauty,

The soul of the little laplander escaped and flew away.

He let it go.

Then seeking a secluded spot,

He at once summoned a number of crabs and water beetles,

Which he placed in three shining seashells.

One touch of his staff changed these shells filled with crabs and water beetles into magnificent vessels full of well-armed men.

His black goat became a scald and played the harp.

Then transforming himself into a handsome young viking,

He ordered the sails to be hoisted,

Surrounding a wooded promenade,

Sailed into the bay where Bjorn's vessel lay.

Loudly,

The sentries on Bjorn's ship blew their horns.

Louder yet rang out the answering blast from the castle.

Fiercely,

Bjorn and his men broke through the forest.

Furious was their war cry.

Shrieley clanged their weapons.

The strange viking stepped forward boldly and extended his hand to Bjorn in token of friendship,

Seeking hospitality for himself and his men.

Bjorn let himself be persuaded.

He led the strangers into his splendid halls and drank and feasted with them many days and many nights.

Then the strange hero ordered rich presents to be brought from his ships.

Garments studded with jewels,

Gold ornaments,

And shining swords.

This completely deceived Bjorn and his followers,

And when the stranger asked for swanhild in marriage,

The viking readily gave his consent.

That swanhild turned pale no one noticed,

Nor did they notice that she wept nightly in the solitude of her chamber.

The marriage day at length arrived,

But when everything was ready and swanhild,

In glittering array,

Was being led towards the stranger,

She,

With a quick movement,

Turned her back on him and fled to her chamber.

Loudly raged the father,

His eyes glowing with fury,

But Wilder still rolled the eyes of the stranger.

He broke into a laugh and cried with a mocking voice,

You shall all pay for this.

One look from those fierce eyes and his men became a crowd of crabs and water beetles.

The scald threw away his harp and stood there a black goat with fiery eyes.

The stranger shook off his armor and was a horrible old man.

Bjorn grew pale with terror.

His followers began to tremble and shake.

Another look from the magician and they all shrank together and a crawling mass of frogs covered the floor and Bjorn was the largest of them all.

Then opening door and gate,

The magician drove them out into the marshy moat.

Here they dived.

The magician then locked the door and threw the key into the moat.

Outer chamber windows,

Swanhild sat weeping.

He looked up at her furiously,

But she was so good and pure his glance had no power over her.

He shook his fist threateningly.

Now sit there all alone,

He cried,

Since you will not marry me.

You cannot escape and no one can deliver you,

For my goat keeps guard.

He flew away whistling.

The black goat walked round and round the moat,

His eyes gleaming like living coals.

The frogs croaked in the evening light and above in her chamber,

Swanhild wept solitary and forsaken.

Meanwhile,

Far,

Far away,

The boy left by the stork at the gloomy castle in the bohemian forest had become a valiant knight who knew well how to use his sword.

Yet so strange a knight he was,

Because he had never before sat in walnut tree castle.

This was the name of his ancestral home.

Since his father's death,

Wealth had lived quite alone in the ruined castle,

For none of the servants would stay after the old knight died.

But this did not trouble wealth.

He did not care to hunt the wild boar through the thicket or kill the frightened stag.

His chief pleasure was to stretch himself on the thick,

Soft moss and gaze through the green branches of the forest trees at the blue heavens that smiled here and there in the flocks through the thick foliage.

He also loved to seek forest flowers.

All blue flowers were his favorites.

Where this preference for blue flowers came,

He knew not,

But ever since he was a young child he often dreamt of a beautiful maiden with blue eyes,

Clear as the sky.

When tired of looking up at the blue heaven or seeking flowers,

He would stand at one of the castle windows,

Gazing thoughtfully out into the blue distance.

Far away yonder so ran his thoughts at these times.

Where the blue heaven bends down to touch the earth,

Should I not find happiness there?

Were it not better to journey abroad in search of happiness than to remain alone in this solitary castle through whose walls the wind whistles while owls and bats are now the only occupants of its once stately halls?

But though longing to go out into the world,

Wealth remained in the ruined castle in obedience to an old command of one of his ancestors.

In the middle of the castle court,

There grew in the cleft of a rock a gigantic walnut tree.

From it the castle had received its name.

The nut from which this tree had sprung had been planted in olden times by one of wealth's ancestors,

Who at the same time had carved these words on the rock.

Where flourishes this tree,

There shall my house remain.

While it stands,

Forsake it not in search abroad for fame.

But should the ancient glory from these halls ever disappear,

Life from this tree shall make it shine once more bright and clear.

Their splendor had long since disappeared,

And how the tree could restore it,

Wealth could not imagine.

Still he remained obedient to the command.

One evening a mighty storm arose.

Black clouds obscured the sky.

The lightning flashed.

The thunder rolled.

The storm raged through the forest.

The mouldering stones of the old castle slipped from their places,

And the wind whistled through the gaps and raged through the old rooms and passages.

Then a flash of lightning,

A clap of thunder,

The castle was in ruins.

Wealth escaped into the open air.

Before him lay the walnut tree,

Shivered by the lightning.

He immediately saddled his horse.

What need to remain here longer?

Hastily snatching a few nuts that lay among the shattered branches,

He concealed them in his doublet as a remembrance,

And then he rode away through the gloomy forest.

Far and wide,

Wealth wandered over the green earth beneath the blue heavens,

Encountering many enemies.

But in spite of all,

He kept courageously on his way,

Until one day his path led through a thick forest of beech trees.

He looked around thoughtfully as his horse scattered the fallen leaves at every step.

Suddenly he looked up.

What was it that shimmered so blue through the trees?

Wealth urged his horse forward,

But beneath a giant beech at the edge of the forest he halted,

The endless sea lay before him.

Here is blue heaven above and beneath.

Surely I shall find happiness here,

Thought Wealth,

As he swung himself to earth.

Without a thought,

He left his horse and hastened to the shore.

On the soft waves,

A small boat was rocking.

Wealth sprang in and loosened the chain.

Lightly,

The waves bore the boat out into the blue distance.

For a long time,

Wealth lay contentedly in the bottom of the boat.

He felt as though he were a little child folded into his mother's arms,

Safe from all want and danger.

And he thought the waves wished to tell him something,

But he could not understand their language.

Yet he saw that they bore his boat ever more swiftly forward,

And he rejoiced at the increasing speed.

Finally,

There was a grating sound under the keel.

Wealth had reached land at last.

Before him lay a wooded island.

Above the tops of the trees rose the turrets of a stately castle.

He hastened forward and arrived at the castle moat.

An unearthly stillness reigned over all around.

Nothing moved except for a swarm of frogs.

These swam round and round in the moat,

Or sat on the leaves of the water lilies,

And croaked in what seemed to Wealth most soreful tones.

But the largest among them behaved in a most extraordinary manner.

He was forever trying to climb up the castle wall,

But if after much trouble he managed to get up a little way,

He always fell back again.

Then he would seat himself on a water lily,

Look upwards,

And wipe his eyes as though he were weeping.

Watching with curiosity,

Wealth also looked up,

And his heart leaped for joy.

At last,

He exclaimed,

Those blue eyes,

But suddenly out of nowhere a violent push from an angry goat sent him flying into the middle of the moat.

Wealth felt himself sinking fast.

His feet got entangled among the twisted roots of the water lilies.

With great difficulty,

He managed to keep his head above the water,

And here I must die,

Said he in English.

Just then from his doublet sounded soft little voices.

The blessings of your ancestors are near.

Do not despair,

For help is here.

And behold,

All around him now began a wonderful rustling and moving.

He groped about with his hands,

And felt that tender little roots had forced their way through his doublet and were taking root in the slime.

And all around him he saw little green walnut tree leaves rising out of the water.

Twigs followed leaves,

And these again became branches.

Wealth felt he was being forced upwards.

Soon he was safely out of the water.

Looking up,

He saw Swan Hill's blue eyes.

He stretched out his arms towards her,

And she smiled.

Higher and higher Wealth was born.

Five strong walnut trees grew beneath him and bore him up on their branches.

Soon he could reach up and touch Swan Hill's hands,

And finally he sat by her at the window and gazed into her blue eyes.

What is your name?

He asked.

Swan Hill,

She replied.

It is a very beautiful name,

Said Wealth.

But for my sake,

You must now be called Little Blue Flower.

Ever since I was a child,

I saw your eyes in my dreams.

They appeared to me like little blue flowers,

And every day I searched for these flowers in the forest,

But they were never sufficiently beautiful.

Now you shall be my little blue flower.

And then he gave her a kiss.

Shortly after,

A fresh movement began in the moat below.

The stout frog was able to scramble up the crooked,

Rough stems of the walnut tree better than up the smooth castle wall.

Boldly he climbed,

And the whole army of frogs followed him.

At length he reached the top.

Swan Hill gently laid her hand on his head,

And instead of the frog,

Old Bjorn sat on one of the branches of the walnut tree and embraced and kissed both his daughter and Wealth.

Then the other frogs came,

And Swan Hill laid her hand on them all.

Soon all Bjorn's followers were sitting in crowds on the branches,

Dangling their legs for joy.

Meanwhile despite all the happiness and joy from the happy reunion,

The black goat ran round and round the castle moat in full anger,

Rolling his great fiery eyes.

Just as the last frog was changed,

A mighty rushing noise was heard.

The magician flew raging through the air.

With his magic staff,

He struck the poor goat a fierce blow and then rode back on him to Blocksburg.

In Blocksburg,

Things went very badly for him because he came without the soul of the little laplander,

And as such he was severely punished.

Bjorn and Wealth and all his men joyfully entered the castle through Swan Hill's window.

A few days later,

Swan Hill's marriage with Wealth was celebrated with great feast and splendor,

And they lived together in peace and happiness to the end of their days.

To my right Is Pventry P!

!

You You You You You You You

Reviews

Really liked this Tale thank you Joanne. ☺🐱😼🐨🏔🇦🇺

😍🥰😘!!!

Thank you🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻After several uses throughout 2 nights, I still have no clue about the content of the story: it works!🙏🏻😴🙏🏻