What's in a name?

   A day had passed and as the march of servants moved in and out of the bed chamber, filling it with straw, Millicent attempted once again to engage the young and pregnant maidservant, Carine.  Unfortunately, with the unceasing flow of watchful eyes around them, Carine clammed up completely and refused to even look up from the ground.  Frustrated from restlessness and boredom, Millicent declared that she would like the chance to stretch her tight limbs by walking up and down the hall, but her statement drew shocked expressions from all the servants.  In their eyes, she ranked somewhere between being a lowly prisoner and a slave, and the notion that she would even suggest to leave the room was simultaneously surprising and impertinent.  Evidently, the girl did not know her place.

 

   Unfortunately for the servants, it was not their place to try and stop her, so despite the prickling unease Millicent felt knowing that all eyes were on her, she feigned boldness and proceeded to leave the room.  The guards who were posted in the hallway had not been given explicit orders about Millicent but the notion of the girl freely traversing the hall struck them as being simply "wrong".  With their imposing stature, they blocked her passage, hoping to intimidate her from leaving her room.

 

   "Did the King say that I was to remain shackled to this one particular room?" Millicent asked the stony faced guards who had yet to utter a word.  They looked at one another, uncertain of what to say, and sensing a moment of weakness, Millicent shrugged and sided past them.

 

   "Wait!" the guards cried out in alarm.  "You musn't wander about without an escort."

 

   "Well then, who shall escort me?" Millicent inquired.  The guards looked at each other nervously while the straw-carrying servants averted their gaze.  No one wanted to bear the King's wrath from neglecting their duties.

 

   "I shall," Carine declared with only the slightest tremor in her voice.  The whole hall seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, knowing that they had just escaped a dangerous situation.  The matter settled, everyone went back to their work while Millicent grinned widely at the pale-faced young maid.

 

   "Is this really so bad?" Millicent asked Carine.  Carine's eyes traveled upwards to meet Millicent's.

 

   "I could be killed for this," she said simply.  Unable to help her affectionate and open nature, Millicent took Carine's hand in her own.

 

   "I would never let it happen.  I would tell the King that I would stop spinning straw into gold if he even dared to threaten you," Millicent said boldly.

 

   "Then you would be killed too," Carine said in respose, but for the briefest of moments, a wisp of a smile had touched her lips.

 

   As they walked the length of the hallway, Millicent was still unable to discover any personal details about the pregnant maid, but Carine was willing enough to explain some of the ways of the city, such as the hierarchy from serf to nobleman, as well as giving a general layout of the castle.  As they turned the corners of the hall, Millicent could see the stairway leading to the other levels, and she was seized by a longing to explore.

 

   Carine may have been very young, but she was a fairly adept maid and was accustomed to reading the expressions of those she served.  She caught the expression of desire upon Millicent's face - after all, she had seen it often enough on spoiled and wilful noblewomen; however, Millicent was no noblewoman, and Carine grasped at Millicent's sleeve to stop her.

 

   "You seen nice, if sheltered, miss, and so for your own sake, I give you this warning.  The kind and gentle hearted souls do not flourish in this castle - only the hardest of us survive, and many here would not hesitate to report your actions to the King, no matter how innocent your intent.  If you are valuable enough to the King, perhaps you personally will not suffer, but believe me when I say someone will.  So please, for your sake and for mine, temper your desires to wander about."

 

   Carine's speech was enough to quell Millicent's yearning for exploration, and she nodded to the maid while the pair of them made their way back to the straw-filled chamber.  There was so little to do as the servant's packed the room bit by bit, and Carine, who had softened towards Millicent, took pity on the bored girl, and found some shirts for her to mend, if only to keep Millicent's hands busy and her mind partially stimulated.  Carine also brought in a tray of thick slices of bread and cheese.

 

   After having spent so much time with so little to do, mending shirts seemed as thrilling as hearing an epic poem of battles from a talented troubadour, and before long, the chamber was stuffed with straw.  Once again, Millicent was expected to spin it into gold.  This time, the King had not deigned it worth his time to visit Millicent, and instead, sent a servant with a menacing message that she was expected to spin all the straw into gold if she valued her life.

 

   The bed chamber was so excessively filled with straw that little Carine had no space in which to sleep or even move and so, Millicent was once again alone with nothing but a bed, a chair, a spinning wheel, and a horrifying amount of straw.  Millicent had no idea of what to do.  Was there a way to call for the mysterious dwarf or would he just know when to come?  She sat on the bed, fiddling with the wrinkles in her skirt and stealing nervous glances at the straw and then the door.  What if the dwarf did not come?  She was not sure that she was ready to die; especially since her mysterious fey lover had disappeared, leaving her without any sense of understanding or closure.  At the thought of her handsome lover, Millicent's eyes began to well up in tears.  Her ordeal at the castle had been so arduous that her suffering had managed to distract her from facing her broken heart, but now she was left with her thoughts and nowhere to run.  Was the dark-haired man wandering their old haunts, wondering where she had went, thinking he was the one abandoned, or did he truly not want anything to do with her?  What if he was out there in those woods, searching and searching?  Or perhaps she had performed so poorly as a lover that he left her in disgust?  Millicent was no prone to feeling shame, but the very notion of being a disappointing lover made her want to cover herself.  

 

   Tears were trickling down her face, and that was the moment that Rumpelstiltskin opened the chamber doors.  Stricken by her woeful expression, Rumpelstiltskin hobbled up to her and took one of her hands.

 

   "Ah, dear one!" he exclaimed, "Surely you did not doubt that I would come?"  Millicent shook her head, and sniffed loudly.  

 

   "Tell me what ails your heart, sweetling," he asked her soothingly.  "And fret not, for the straw shall be spun into gold by the morrow, though as like before, I must ask you to give me something to do the task."

 

   "I have this ring," Millicent replied between sniffs, as she pulled it off and gave it to the misshapen being.  Rumpelstiltskin pocketed the ring and gave Millicent one more reassuring pat before sitting down in the chair and rapidly spinning straw into gold.

 

   "What has brought on your tears if not your fear of failing the King's task?" Rumpelstiltskin asked.  He waited patiently for Millicent's reply as she wiped the tears away from her puffy eyes.  Though she was an undoubtedly beautiful girl, she certainly wasn't a beautiful crier, yet her vulnerability only made her more endearing to him.

 

   "Can I ask you a question?"  Millicent said when her sniffs finally began to subside.  Rumpelstiltskin nodded uneasily.  Maintaining the illusion of gold took a fair amount of effort, and although his brief respite had helped him to recover his strength, his mind and body felt slow and fuzzy as though he were mildly intoxicated.  Though the fey adored the tipsiness that came with fermented beverages, the feeling he experienced now was similar yet unpleasant.  He worried that his mind would not be sharp enough to keep up with the truths and untruths he had told or omitted.

 

   "Well," Millicent began, and she paused as though gathering her thoughts, "Suppose...um... Do you think that...well..."

 

   "Take your time," Rumpelstiltskin said with a gentle smile as he spun the straw in a rhythmic and soothing tempo.

 

   "Are magical folk fickle with their love?" Millicent blurted out finally.  Rumpelstiltskin's stomach twisted into knots and he stopped spinning while a furrow marred his ugly brow.

 

   "I... I don't know that I can speak for all magical beings, dearling," Rumpelstiltskin replied. "But I am certain without a doubt that whomsoever falls in love with you would lose not only their heart but their soul to that love."  Instead of reassuring her, Rumpelstiltskin's statement only caused a fresh bout of tears to pour from Millicent's eyes.

 

   "Then...then..." Millicent stammered awkwardly through her stuffy nose, "What if he can't find me here?  What if he thinks I... I.... abandoned him?"  Rumpelstiltskin's head only seemed more muddled by Millicent's questions.  On one hand, he desperately wanted to reassure her and alleviate all of her suffering, but on the other hand, he did not want to give her false hope.  After all, the handsome lover she pined for was now gone and replaced by a hideous being.  It did not seem fair to make her pine away for someone that no longer existed.  But then, how could he possibly let her down easily?  What could he even say?  He felt he had to stall for time while his mind sorted out the situation.

 

   "I can't answer your questions, sweet one, without some idea of the tale behind it," he said evasively.

 

   "Well," Millicent said, after sniffing one or two more times, "It began when I was still living in the countryside..." Millicent proceeded to tell her tale from her perspective, and due to her general lack of shame, she told the tale in rather graphic detail her cheeks flushed hot with remembrance at the pleasures she and her lover had shared.  Her gaze was distant, which Rumpelstiltskin was grateful for, for her account had affected him in such a way that his pants were beginning to become uncomfortably tight.  He squirmed in the hard wooden chair and tried to used his spinning to calm his lustful urges.  The last thing he wanted was for Millicent to witness the growing bulge between his legs.  The thought of horror and disgust upon her face was enough to quell some of his desire.

 

   The story Millicent told quickly turned from erotic and romantic, to sadness and confusion as she neared the end of her tale.  Tears were once again spilling from her eyes as she described waking up naked and sated, only to see a shadowy figure running from her as though she were a plague.  She described running after the shadowy form, barely noticing the bits of rocks and twigs that dug into her bare feet.  Still, it was all for naught, for her lover was gone and nowhere to be found, and she was out of breath, sweating and alone.  All she felt was confusion at the time - a denial of sorts - sadness and anger had come only later.  And still, for the most part, she felt confusion.  It was on that note that she ended her account, for her eyes finally locked with Rumpelstiltskin's as if she expected him to know the conclusion of the story.

 

   Rumpelstiltskin was heart broken upon hearing her side of her tale, but he knew that he would have to hurt her again with what he had to say.  It seemed that it would be horribly unfair to give her false hope so that she would ceaselessly pine after him - better to crush those hopes now so that she could move on to future happiness once her heart mended.  Millicent surely deserved better than to be bound to a grotesque, misshapen creature such as himself.

 

   "Dearest one," he began softly, "You must let go of what has happened.  I say this not to be cruel, but only for your sake.  I am certain that your fey lover would only say the same thing, and he would want you to move on.  Though you do not know it, your lover would have, for out of love, he chose to break an important law.  Not one of your mortal laws, but a magic law in which no fey being may take the purity of a mortal maiden.  The consequences of breaking such laws is dire, but your lover paid the price willingly, even if he is now lost to you."

 

   "But..." Millicent broke in, "I'm sure... isn't there a way to help him?  To save him?"  Rumpelstiltskin shook his head sadly, his eyes turning back to the spinning wheel for he could not deal with the pleading intensity of her gaze.

 

   "No!" Millicent exclaimed.  "There must be a way!  There must!"  

 

   "I'm sorry," Rumpelstiltskin replied sadly.  Tears were once again making tracks down Millicent's face.  Rumpelstiltskin could not bear knowing that he was the source of her misery and so he ceased his spinning, and walked over to her, taking her hand in his.  His actions only caused her to cry harder, her entire body trembling under the force of her sobs.  Though he knew she might be completely repulsed by him, the need to comfort her was too great, so he sat beside her and gathered her into his arms.  She melted bonelessly into him, clutching at his shirt as she cried and cried.  Over time, her cries subsided, but she still clung onto him, unwilling to let him go.  Neither of them spoke, but while Millicent seemed completely comfortable in her position, Rumpelstiltskin was feeling increasingly tense.

 

   With every shift and movement, he was all too aware of Millicent's body pressed against his.  Her breathing was steady and calm, and although he forced himself to keep his own breathing even, his heart was beginning to race.  Rumpelstiltskin cursed the weakness of his flesh for once again, his cock was starting to harden.  In fact, one could easily say that the fey were victims to their lust much more so than any mortal being - after all, they enjoyed sex freely, and it was rare for a fairy to ever hold back his or her own urges.  His own weakness and Millicent's warm body pressed against him was likely the worst torture he could imagine for himself.  She would likely see the rising bulge in his pants, and recoil in horror - or worse, perhaps she would scream and dash from the room, leaving him alone in his shame.  However, neither of these things happened, for he could soon hear soft snores escaping Millicent's lips.  She had falling asleep, much to Rumpelstiltskin's relief, so he gently laid her upon her bed and turned the rest of straw into illusory gold.  

 

   Millicent's tale had taken hours to tell and Rumpelstiltskin's use of magic left him feeling more depleted than ever.  The sense of intoxication increase so that every move he made left him feeling off balance and wobbly.  He needed to get back to the cellar to rest and it took all his concentration to make himself invisible just to return to the cellar.  Once there, he collapsed into a heap and his last thought before falling asleep was that he hoped Millicent would remember to tell the King that more time was needed before she could next start spinning straw into gold.