What's in a name?

A/N:  Yay!  More reviews!

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It is a rare occasion that would ever cause a magical being to need more than a couple hours of sleep, but drawing immense amounts of magical energy could rapidly deplete a faerie's reserves.  Though the brief cat naps that the fae take are deep and dreamless, the minds of magical beings, like mortal men, need the stimulation of dreams.  However unlike mortal men, their dreams are completely lucid and allow their consciousness to traverse either the realms of the fae or of mortal men.  Although Rumpelstiltskin's body was lying inert upon the cellar floor, his mind was drifting out of his physical shell, eager for exploration.

 

   The bodiless state he existed in was as familiar as his own skin and his senses were all intact.  If anything, his senses were sharper than ever, for he could stretch the limits of his consciousness to fill a moderate sized room.  Even now in the cellar, he could feel every grain of flour in the sacks, and every onion or potato nestled in the dry cool air.  It was as though he was the room and yet himself all at once.  However, he had no influence on the physical objects around him, for he was incorporeal.  Like all dreamers, he was but a witness to the world around him.

 

   The cellar held no interest to Rumpelstiltskin; unsurprisingly his first thoughts were of Millicent and even in his formless state, his whole essence seemed to hum with joy at the mere thought of her existence.  Passing seamlessly through the stone walls, he drifted through rooms, floors, people and pieces of furniture, seeking his love.  The room where he had left her was all but empty, with not even a scrap of straw left in the cracks of the floor.  The mattress she had laid upon was in the corner still rumpled, but it was cold and abandoned.  

 

   He drifted from room to room, impervious to the rush of servants.  When he finally came upon Millicent, she was in a room on the upper level, much larger than her previous chamber.  The room was obviously meant for a noble guest, for this room contained a small slit of a window, and plain tapestries on the wall.  There was a fairly large canopied bed by the back wall, which six servants were pushing from the center to the corner of the room.  Other servants were carrying armfuls of straw into the room, piling it in the opposite corner from the bed.  The pile of straw was fairly large, but compared to the size of the new room, it seemed insignificant.  Rumpelstiltskin felt completely unsurprised by the stream of events.  The King's greed was evidently like a bottomless well (and although no such wells existed in the mortal realm, there were certainly many of them in the land of the fey).

 

   Millicent was standing unobtrusively by the window with a young pregnant girl next to her.  The sliver of light caused a patch of her hair to glow like brilliant flames while the rest of her seemed shrouded in shadow.  No one had thought to bring her a chair, and she was completely ignored by the busy servants.  The young girl that stood by Millicent seemed even more withdrawn in spirit than Millicent herself.

 

   In his incorporeal state, Rumpelstiltskin could see the entire room all at once, as though his sense of vision expanded to his entire formless body.  Though his essence was drawn to Millicent, he could not help but be aware of the stream of servants moving through the room behind him with their harried energy prickling his senses like needles.  Thus, in spite of feeling a leap of joy at being near Millicent, a part of him was also bristling with anger as he witnessed the servants taking the tapestries off the wall.  It seemed as though the whole castle conspired to make Millicent feel as unwelcome as possible, and as the last tapestry was taken off the wall, the last traces of comfort seem to disappear.  Now the room seemed like nothing more than a spacious cell, but at the rate that straw was filling the room, the space would soon be gone as well.

 

   Rumpelstiltskin longed to make the servants feel as much discomfort as they inflicted upon Millicent, but he had no physical body with which to do anything.  Anger rolled through him like crashing waves, but Millicent herself seemed as calm as an undisturbed lake.  His feelings of anger seemed to weaken his overall energy, and he felt himself pulled against his will towards his magic.  Though he longed to resist the pull and stay near Millicent, he knew that if he neglected his illusion, the "gold" would turn back into straw and cause Millicent more distress than ever.  His immaterial body drifted through floors and walls until he found himself in the royal treasury where high ranking servants were busy weighing and measuring the illusory gold.  Aside from the large pile of straw shaped gold, there was only a modest stack of gold coins and an even smaller pile of jewelry and loose gemstones.  Evidently, the King's fortune was immensely depleted by his struggle for the throne.

 

   The servants seemed completely immersed in concentration as they weighed and counted bits and pieces of gold straw, so the entire room flinched in surprise when the treasury doors were flung open with a bang as the presence of the King was announced.  Every single servant seemed to scurry like frenzied cockroaches as they lined up before the King to bow as low as humanly possible.  Rumpelstiltskin could feel the awe, fear and subservience radiating from the men.  Each servant seemed as spineless as the next, and judging by the rest of the castle, it seemed the King preferred his followers to be as cowed as possible.

 

   "Well?"  The King demanded, as though expecting all his servants to be adept enough to read his thoughts.  Rumpelstiltskin could literally feel the beads of sweat rolling down the terrified servants' bodies as they wondered who would have the courage to speak up to the King.  Stuck between two terrible alternatives, they were fearful of saying the wrong thing to the King as well as fearful of not speaking soon enough and making the King wait.  The tension in the room was almost enough to make Rumpelstiltskin nauseous, which was a strange feeling when one had no body.  Finally, one servant stepped forward to speak.  

 

   "Your Majesty," the servant began, bowing so low that Rumpelstiltskin wondered how he didn't topple over, "There is enough gold to mint approximately six hundred coins.  It..."  The servant's voice trailed off and he seemed to be trying to steel himself for what he had to say next.  "It might be enough to pay off a third of your debt notes," the servant finished off without too much of a tremor in his voice.

 

   "Only a third?!" the King boomed angrily, "That doesn't even take into account..." the King's yelling became a mutter, and though the servants could not hear what he was saying, the words "assassin" and "spies" were audible enough to Rumpelstiltskin.  The two words were enough to spark Rumpelstiltskin's interest.  After all, he had spent most of his existence around either the fey, or simple country folk, and the notion of a corrupt and evil person of immense power was rather striking in a perverse and novel way.  The mention of debt also drew Rumpelstiltskin's attention to a pile of parchment that he had previously overlooked.  Here were the debt notes that the servant had referenced, and without even touching them, Rumpelstiltskin was able to "read" them all at once, noticing the lofty titles of various noble families, as well as the formality of some notes, and the casualness of others.  It seemed as though the King could count bribing as one of his numerous sins. 

 

   While Rumpelstiltskin considered the debt notes, he was also aware of the poor servants ineffectual attempts to pacify the King.  They pointed out that although the gold appeared to be a massive sum, in actuality, it was hollow due to the structure of the straw.  The King appeared to be ready to tear the heads off his servents as his hands clenched into fists.  His cheeks were flushed with rage and his body radiated with stormy tension.  Somehow, he managed to refrain himself from violence, but the murderous glare never left his eyes, even as he left the room while his personal manservant scuttled after him.

 

   Rumpelstiltskin was once again emotionally calm enough to maintain the illusory gold, and while he wanted to return to Millicent, a part of him felt compelled to follow the King.  After all, the King was Millicent's captor, and it seemed important to Rumpelstiltskin to understand the enemy he was up against.  This man was the very heart of the city and the reason for its dysfunction and darkness.  Rumpelstiltskin needed to know the depths of the King's wickedness, if only to save Millicent from it.

 

    It was nearing noon, so the King was headed for the royal chambers where he would have his meal brought to him.  Rumpelstiltskin followed him as he made his way through the corridors and up the stairs, listening to the commands the King issued to his personal servant.  The King's sharp and snapping tone demanded "entertainment" for his noon-day meal, and while Rumpelstiltskin had no idea what the King was referring to, the servant seemed to understand completely.  

 

   Although Rumpelstiltskin had previously explored most of the castle in his invisible physical state, he shuddered at the thought of revisiting the King's chambers.  The royal chambers seemed to be a visual representation of the King's dark personality, dominated by shades of silver, black and crimson.  They were divided up into the sitting room, the bed chamber and the privy.  

 

   The only tapestries with any artful imagery covered the King's walls, but they were all gruesome images of battle and warfare.  The details in the tapestries were remarkable, and one could almost feel the pain of the soldiers whose limbs were being hacked off while arrows protruded from their chest plates.  Any spaces on the walls that were not covered with tapesteries were decorated with various weapons of war.  Strangely enough, the axes, swords, hooks and polearms were not polished to perfection, but most of them were covered in a brownish crust that was most certainly old blood.

 

   The royal chambers were spacious, and yet the pervading theme of darkness made one feel as though they were being suffocated by gloom.  Even the servants who bustled about in the royal chambers wore dark uniforms.  All the wardrobes and chests looked like they were meant to hold devices of torture instead of clothing.  What little light that entered through the windows simply emphasized the blood-red colour of the rugs.

 

   The King seemed completely in his element as he sat down at an ebony table in the sitting room.  It seemed interesting to Rumpelstiltskin that while Millicent seemed to emit an inner light, the King seemed to suck all the light and joy from everything around him.  The highly efficient servants were ready with silver platters of food which they placed in an artful array upon the massive table.  It was enough food to feed ten men, and such a variety that would have even the most noble and richest of men salivating.  In fact, it seemed to be the only colourful display in the whole room.  The King's personal servant was quickly issuing orders for the King's "entertainment" and before long, a trembling gawky young boy of sixteen or seventeen was dragged into the room by a pair of armed guards.

 

   A sense of immense unease came over Rumpelstitskin at the sight of the frightened gangly teen.  Whatever the King's idea of entertainment was, Rumpelstiltskin was not sure he wanted to witness it.  Behind the boy and the guards entered a servant with an enormous leashed hound with a silvery brownish coat.  The hound seemed to know what was to come, for it was whining, not in fear but in anticipation.

 

   The King was leisurely dipping a crust of bread into a rich creamy sauce as a servant leaned over to whisper in his ear.

 

   "So," the King said as he looked up from his food to the boy, "You fell asleep at your job."  The poor teenaged boy seemed terrified out of his wits, and without the support of the guards, he would not have been standing.  Tears were streaming from his eyes and snot dripped from his nose.  Yet he spoke no words in defense for himself, perhaps aware of the futility of his situation.  The King took a bite from the sopping bread and chewed slowly as though savouring not the flavour of the sauce, but the fear from the boy.

 

   "Well," the King said after swallowing his food, "Laziness is not to be tolerated.  We must find a punishment that befits the crime."  The King looked around the room before indicating to a servant to take one of the weapons - a dagger - off the wall.

 

   "I shall be generous today," the King continued, after the dagger was taken off the walls, "You have a choice.  Either you cut off your scrotum with this dagger and feed it to the hound, thereby saving my kingdom from your lazy seed, or...you can allow the hound to sodomize you."

 

   The expression of horror from the young boy was too much for Rumpelstiltskin; his emotional energy suddenly depleted, he was pulled back to his magic, but not before seeing the serene and evil smile upon the King's face.