I have previously alluded to the fact that there seem to be some now obscure and uncertain links between faeries and the stars. You may recall how Alan Garner in his 2021 book Treacle Warner made the eponymous faery hero of the book an inhabitant of the ‘Land of the Summer Stars.’
In the north of Scotland, there is a far surer link between the faeries under their knowes and the heavens. The faeries are thought to be responsible for the Northern Lights, the aurora borealis. The lights go by various names across Britain, such as the Perry Dancers in East Anglia; they are called the ‘Merry Dancers’ or Fir Chlis (Nimble Men) in Scotland. Their origins and faery connections also have several explanations.
According to one story (very obviously shaped by Christian beliefs), after the revolt of Satan the angels were cast out of heaven. Some fell to earth and became faeries; some fell into the sea and became the so-called Fir Gorm, the Blue Men of the Western Isles of Scotland; others fell only as far as the sky and are seen as the ‘Northern Streamers.’
Although the Merry Dancers are distinguished from the sluagh, who are notorious for hunting and abducting humans, theirs is still a violent existence. They are said to fight an everlasting battle, which we witness as the lights in the sky. The blood that’s shed during this conflict gathers at first as in a red cloud below the aurora, known as ‘the pool of blood,’ before falling to earth, where it can be seen congealed as ‘blood stones,’ called fuil siochaire or elves’ blood in the Hebrides. The fighting of the faery hosts at Halloween likewise leaves behind traces of blood, a red liquid that seeps from lichens after frost. In some accounts, the fighting takes place between different clans of the Fir Chlis for possession of a faery woman.
On Shetland the lights were once feared and were called the Fighting Lasses. Now their reputation seems to have ameliorated; they are referred to as the Pretty Dancers because, on still nights, you can hear the swish of their dresses as they glide about the sky. There is even a dance tune, perhaps learned from the faeries, called the Pretty Dancers’ Reel. William Allingham’s poem, The Fairies, reflects this more benign view, describing how the faes will go “up with music on cold starry nights/ To feast with the queen of the gay Northern Lights.”
Another poet, the Scottish folklorist Donald Mackenzie, wrote an even more detailed examination of this mythology in his poem The Nimble Men. It is included in his 1909 collection, Elves and Heroes, which I’ve mentioned before, and it’s short enough to include in full.
“The Nimble Men
When Angus Ore, the wizard,
His fearsome wand will raise,
The night is filled with splendour,
And the north is all ablaze;
From clouds of raven blackness,
Like flames that leap on high-
All merrily dance the Nimble Men across the Northern Sky.Now come the Merry Maidens,
All gowned in white and green,
While the bold and ruddy fellows
Will be flitting in between-
O to hear the fairy piper
Who will keep them tripping by!
The men and maids who merrily dance across the Northern Sky.O the weird and waesome music,
And the never-faltering feet!
O their fast and strong embraces,
And their kisses hot and sweet!
There’s a lost and languished lover
With a fierce and jealous eye,
As merrily flit the Nimble Folk across the Northern Sky.So now the dance is over,
And the dancers sink to rest-
There’s a maid that has two lovers,
And there’s one she loves the best;
He will cast him down before her,
She will raise him with a sigh-
Her love so bright who danced to-night across the Northern Sky.Then up will leap the other,
And up will leap his clan-
O the lover and his company
Will fight them man to man-
All shrieking from the conflict
The merry maidens fly-
There’s a Battle Royal raging now across the Northern Sky.Through all the hours of darkness
The fearsome fight will last;
They are leaping white with anger,
And the blows are falling fast-
And where the slain have tumbled
A pool of blood will lie-
O it’s dripping on the dark green stones from out the Northern Sky.When yon lady seeks her lover
In the cold and pearly morn,
She will find that he has fallen
By the hand that she would scorn,
She will clasp her arms about him,
And in her anguish die!
O never again will trip the twain across the Northern Sky.”
This discussion of the Fir Chlis is adapted from my 2021 book, Faeries and the Natural World, published by Green Magic Press.
British Fairies 
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