You know, I thought Ylfa was tragic and sad like all the Neverafter characters are in their own way, but I think I'm wrong.
Hear me out.
Ylfa's story diverges from the canon of Little Red Riding Hood when the Woodsman doesn't come by. But he doesn't just not come by that day, he doesn't come by for weeks. Unheard of. He visits all the time, brings wood and forage for the Grandmother, she'd freeze to death at night if he doesn't come by, it's part of his job or just a dude being kind to an elderly woman, enjoying the sweets or soup she makes him as thanks. But he doesn't come by. For weeks he doesn't stop by. And we don't know why, maybe he was hurt or sick, but we know he wasn't dead because the Second Story Ylfa goes and kills the woodsman. Can't kill what's dead. So he's alive, presumably doing fine and healthy, but he doesn't come by. The one person in the story that's supposed to protect Little Red and presumably the village people from wolves just doesn't do that. The one Ylfa is told will always protect her if she finds trouble doesn't protect her.
She waits for weeks for a man that never comes. A hero that won't save her because he's too busy doing something else. And while she waits, the Wolf waits with her. He doesn't chastise her, doesn't provoke and antagonize her, doesn't jeer or make fun of her for waiting for someone he knows isn't coming. He kindly waits in silence, watching over her in that tiny cottage. He's honest when she asks what happened to her grandmother, tells her gently but firmly it was the old womans time to die, but not Ylfas. Death looks this little girl in the face and gently tells her it's not her time to die, even as she yells at him that the woodsmand will come and cut him open, he's gentle and kind with her. When she demands he kills her already, since no one is going to save her from him, he refuses. Death refuses to take Ylfa, even as she waits for it, even as she demands it take her, Death will not do it. What's more, he tells her how to save herself, offers her his own strength, provides a way for her to be her own hero in this story. Hunger and despair eventually drives her to obey, and later she is horrified of what she's done.
Ylfa then runs home, sobbing, terrified, crying out for her mother, her siblings, her grandmother, anyone at all to help her. She's drenched in Wolfs blood, body trying to transform against her will. And what does she find at her home when she gets there? Besides a rightfully terrified mother and siblings hiding in the dark home? Because we know, in the story, that the wolf can take someones shape and trick people into coming close so he can eat them too, of course they'd be afraid of Ylfa, their presumably dead Little Red Riding Hood, showing up drenched in blood begging to come inside and dragging jagged claws along the windows and door. How are they to know it's really her? No one ever survives the Wolf. No one. Let alone one sweet little girl or her elderly grandmother. So what does her terrified family do? they try to kill the Wolf.
What's worse than all that? What's worse than them being understandably afraid of the Wolf at their door? The fact that they didn't have a funeral for their beloved Little Red. That they didn't acknowledge her death at all. They removed her place from the table, didn't make her a place of rest, didn't go looking for her or her grandmother. Little Red didn't come home, they assumed she died and they moved on immediately.
Something terrible and traumatic happened to Ylfa, something that effected her for the rest of her life, something that completely altered her. She searched for someone to save her, but no one would. She reached out for help and understanding from her family that supposedly loved her and they forgot her, attacked her, ran away from her in fear and disgust. Something changed Ylfa forever, and everyone she ever loved left her behind for it. Everyone, except Death. Death which did this to her, which whispered her name, gently caressed her soul, and refused to claim her. Death that told her she would be all the stronger for it, that being monstrous isn't evil or bad. That she can use his gifts, his curse, to defy him, fight him, maybe even stop him.
"I'm the Big Bad Wolf," Death says calmly, his hot breath warming her as he speaks.
"I'm Big and Bad now too, though," Ylfa whispers back, lips still trembling and face damp with tears.
"Then you just may be able to stop me, Ylfa," Death smiles, eyes crinkling at the edges "I encourage you to try."
Death wanted Ylfa to live. When everyone was fine with her dying, or preferred she be dead to what she became, Death wished for her to live. When even Ylfa has wanted to die or stay dead, Death lead her home to life, comforted her, encouraged her, forgave her for wanting to die before her time. Death was so kind and gentle with this sweet little girl, so honest in his answers, so soothing to her grief. He empathized with her confusion and pain, told her it was normal to feel the way she does, not just for the loss of her grandmother, or the abandonment of her family, but for what she's become. Because Ylfa is grieving herself as well. What she had been, what she could have grown up to be had the Wolf not come. Ylfa mourns for herself as much as she mourns her Grandmother.
He promised to take her one day, but only when it was her time, not a second before or after. In that way, she would never die alone, because Death would be there with her. The Wolf would always be with her now, forever and always. He would never find her monstrous or evil, he would never run from her in fear, never curl a lip at her in disgust. And Death, too, would never be alone as a result. Some of him is always with Ylfa, in some way.
I think some of us need this specific kind of comfort. Some of us need Death to look us in the face and say "No, not yet little one, try again, you can do it... Here, let me help you."
Some of us need someone, even Death, too look at how monstrous we've become because of what's happened to us, or how we were made, and be kind, and gentle, and meet us with such patient love as to refuse to let us go, even when we want to let go, even when everyone else has.
Ylfa met Death, and he wanted her to live. Death was dying, and Ylfa saved him.
Death met Death, and together they decided to Live.
