Adult-FanFiction.org : Books

What's in a name?	By : jinna1979 Category: Fairy Tales, Fables, Folklore, Legends, and Myth > Fairy Tales Views: 16599 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction,I do not own Rumpelstiltskin. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons,living or dead, is purely coincidental

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
Millicent was ushered into the servants' entrance by the irritated pair who had no patience for Millicent's gawking. The pushed her rudely, but Millicent did not protest, entering into the dark corridor lit with intermittent torches. It was cold, and the flickering light of the torches cast long and ominous shadows, but the corridor soon opened up to the largest kitchen that Millicent had ever seen. Servants were everywhere, bustling about, some carrying heavy loads as they dashed to and fro, some chopping vegetables, some turning the numerous spits spread out through the kitchen, and others stirring large pots and cauldrons, their faces red from the heat. There was so much movement around her that Millicent felt strangely out of place, standing so still amongst them, but one of the servants that she was with gave her a nudge, indicating that she needed to keep up with him.

The servant pushed his way through the industrious crowd, and Millicent attempted to follow, apologizing seemingly every second as she bumped into person after person who scowled at her in annoyance. The servants at the palace all seemed very harried and agitated, their nervous energy making Millicent feel more uneasy than ever. As she wove through corridors, making twists and turns, heading up and then down various stairways, Millicent wondered how she would ever find her way. Finally, the servant stopped in front of a small wooden door which he opened, informing her that it was to be her room, and that she should feel honoured to have her own space. There was an expression of censure upon his face, as though he felt she did not deserve to have the room. Feeling emotionally worn and vulnerable, Millicent guiltily slipped past the servant, into the dark and tiny stark room.

The room did not have it's own fireplace, and since it was in the interior of the castle, it lacked any windows. There was no adornment on the walls; only cold grey stones. At the corner of the room was a straw filled mattress on the floor, and a threadbare blanket. Next to the mattress was a small square chest for her belongings, though she had none. The room was lit by a single candle and had a single chamber pot. The door was slammed behind her as the servant departed without a word, and Millicent flinched, her nerves frayed by the stresses she had to face. She sat down upon the straw mattress, curling her knees into her chest, making herself as small and insignificant as she felt.

Rumpelstiltskin had followed the trio from forest, to countryside, and finally to the city. Though he had used his magic to hide his presence in the countryside, it required a lot of energy and concentration, wearing out his reserve. Once the crowds of people began to increase, he simply stole a long hooded cloak, and threw it over himself, hoping that no one would care enough to give him a second glance. Though he was quite incredibly ugly in his current state, ugliness wasn't unusual, and Rumpelstiltskin navigated through the town with relative ease, though he loathed the oppressive feel of being surrounded by so many greedy, dirty, small minded mortals. The smell of the city was the most repugnant thing he had ever encountered in all of his existence, but he endured it, as well as the agitating cacophony, knowing that Millicent near. Moving like a thief in the night (for Rumpelstiltskin had finally grown accustomed to his lumbering body), he trailed the trio through the town, past the gates, and finally up to the castle.

He watched as Millicent and the servants branched off on a side road, coming up to a door at the side of the castle. Noting that not just anybody could enter through the side entrance, he reverted back to his shadowy invisible form, slipping into the castle silently. Following the trio down the dark corridor and into the kitchen, Rumpelstiltskin looked around at the bustle of activity in surprise, his fingers tingling as he noticed all the small objects left lying about that he could easily steal. It seemed that old habits refused to die, but he pushed down his faerie urges, knowing that he was no longer a part of that world. Millicent seemed incredibly troubled by the crowd and his heart went out to her, wishing that he could pull her into his arms and comfort her. The mortals that served in the palace seemed to be the most self absorbed, aggravated lot he had ever come across.

Rumpelstiltskin continued to follow Millicent as she was led through the castle to her room, while his sharp faerie mind took note of everything that surrounded him. Unlike Millicent, he could easily remember his way around the castle, having an excellent sense of direction, and assuredly, by the following day, Rumpelstiltskin was sure to know every nook and cranny of the entire palace. However, his thoughts were not focused on exploration, but on Millicent, and when he witnessed the servant slamming the door on her room, a sense of rage at the man's insensitivity filled his heart. Though Rumpelstiltskin was more than tempted to turn to violence, he knew that causing a scene would only frighten Millicent more than she already was, and so, resorting to mischief instead, he stuck out an invisible foot and tripped the rude servant who fell flat on his face. A gaggle of serving maids witnessed his clumsy fall, and giggled behind their hands, while a pair of guards chuckled in arrogant amusement. The servant's face was red with shame when he stood up, and he walked off in a huff, trying to desperately hide the fact that he had chipped a tooth on the stone floor. Rumpelstiltskin smirked in satisfaction, and using his magic to slip between small spaces, he entered Millicent's room.

Millicent was curled into a ball upon the straw mattress, and Rumpelstiltskin's heart twisted in his chest at the sight of the expression of desolation upon her face. He wanted to gather her into his arms, stroke her hair and tell her that he would make sure that everything was alright. For a moment, he reached out, tempted to do so. Perhaps he could make up an excuse and pretend he was trapped in an invisible state, but then he realized that despite being invisible, she would still be able to feel the difference in his body. What was once soft, smooth and long was now stout, coarse and hairy. If anything, it might only frighten her more. So, instead of touching her, he used a dash of faerie dust, blowing it lightly into her face so that she could fall into a deep and restful sleep.

Rumpelstiltskin exited her room quietly, removing the mantle of invisibility that he had laid over himself. It required too much magic to sustain it in such an unnatural environment, and he hoped that he did not look too conspicuous in his cloak. He was curious about castle, having never been in one before, so he wandered through it's dark corridors, his attentive eyes soaking in details that would otherwise go unnoticed. There were very few windows in the castle, and those that were there were long narrow slits that let in small slivers of scant light. The air smelled of resin, herbs and smoke, with the slightest hint of mold. A few tapestries hung on the walls, keeping in a scant amount of heat, and the patterns upon them were simple and geometric, rather than elaborate works of art. They seemed to exist more as a matter of practicality than as a show of wealth and beauty.

The kitchen was on the first floor of the castle, as was the throne room and great hall. The upper rooms were mostly bedrooms, guest suites, and storage rooms, including the armoury and linens closets. Most of the servants quarters were on the lower levels, while the bedrooms in the upper levels housed noble guests. The majority of the servants did not have private quarters, and had to sleep in barrack-like rooms, as did the guards of the castle. There was an enormous root and wine cellar in the basement, as well as a stark and cold dungeon complete with miserable and ragged looking prisoners. The castle was essentially a big rectangle, lacking interesting elements such as towers or any architectural ornamentation.

As Rumpelstiltskin explored, he was also aware of expressions of disgust upon the faces of servants and guests who looked upon his features. Some gazed at him in open mouthed horror, while others stole covert glances, their faces wrinkling up in silent distaste. He did his best to ignore the reactions he was getting to his ugliness. It was something he would have to get used to from now on. Unfortunately, the attention started to wear on his composure, and he threw his hood over his head, hoping to hide his face in the shadows, even if the hood obscured his vision and prevented him from observing the castle as well as he would have liked. He felt a rising sense of bitterness at his circumstances, but he pushed the feelings down, knowing that he was trapped by his ugliness and would have to get used to it. Bitterness would do nothing to help Millicent, after all.

As his thoughts returned to Millicent, Rumpelstiltskin decided to head down to the kitchen to find some food for her. She seemed to be in a dazed state due to the recent turn of events, and he doubted she would be able to find her way around the castle easily. Out of habit, he reverted back to his invisible state, sneaking past numerous servants as he entered the hectic kitchen. He stole a loaf of bread, a small block of cheese, a chicken drumstick, as well as a few succulent looking apple tarts. Pleased with the bounty he had stolen, he rushed up to Millicent's room where she remained sleeping, her breathing deep and even. He laid the food down on the floor beside her mattress, frowning as it occurred to him that he should have brought a tray upon which to put the food. Departing once again, he easily stole a tray, and he felt immensely pleased with himself for the service that he had rendered for her.

Not wanting to remain in her small cubby hole of a room lest she awaken and catch him off guard, he left in search of a place where he could rest. He dared not use one of the empty guest suites for the maids cleaned them regularly and would question his presence. The servants' and guards' barracks were much too crowded and hectic, while the stables were full. The dungeon was a little too unnerving for him, though he was sure that he'd be left alone if he were to hide out in the dark dank spaces of the cells. It seemed his best option would be to find a hidden corner in the root cellar. Though he considered seeking out a place to rest beyond the castle walls, he did not want to be too far from Millicent. Besides, the surrounding city had a stench that was unbearable, and he could not imagine growing accustomed to the odor. Finding a relatively quiet and undisturbed spot between the bags of potatoes and other assortments of root vegetables, he made himself as comfortable as he could, and laid down to rest.

Millicent awoke, feeling surprisingly refreshed, and she was pleased to see a tray of food by the side of the mattress. She assumed it had been brought to her by a servant, and silently gave thanks for the bounty before her. The generous offering of food made her feel someone welcome to the cold unfamiliar castle, and she ate it gratefully, savouring every bite. The apple tarts were especially delicious, and she licked all the crumbs from her fingers, her mood buoyed by the rush of sugar. All she needed now was a bath.

Setting the tray aside, she stood up and opened the door to her room, peeking out into the hallway. Servants rushed back and forth, occupied by whatever task was assigned to them, and no one paid her any heed. Hesitantly, she called out to a maid who passed by her door. The maid paused for a moment, looking Millicent up and down with an expression of distaste, and deciding that the girl would not be worth her time, the maid stomped off in irritation at having been disturbed. Millicent's cheeks reddened at the cavalier treatment, but she was determined to not let it bother her. After all, she was here on the king's command, and not by any wish of her own. She would endure this experience, and hopefully given enough time to think and plan, she would earn her freedom. That or she could perhaps learn her way around the castle well enough to run away on her own. She had no coin of her own, and she could hardly sell the gown off her back, but she did have a simple copper necklace and ring. They were not worth much, having more sentimental than monetary value, but it was better than nothing.

She exited her room, counting doors in the hallway so she could remember which one was hers. She had no idea who to talk to about having a bath drawn up, but surely someone would be willing to help her. Millicent was so accustomed to doing everything on her own that it seemed strange to have so many tasks delegated to other people, but with so many servants about, she felt that someone would point her in the right direction. After all, they had provided food for her, or so she assumed. Tentatively, she walked to the end of the hallway and reached a set of stairs. She kept her eyes out for someone who was not too busy, who might be willing to help her out. Hesitantly, she stepped down the stairs and came to yet another corridor. She spied someone standing by an open door who did not look like he was in a frenzied state of activity, and feeling hopeful, she walked up to him.

"Excuse me," she said rather loudly, aware of the bustling noise around her, "Could you tell me where I could have a bath drawn up?" Like the maid, the servant looked her up and down, obviously judging her by her disheveled appearance. However, unlike the maid, he did not ignore her, and instead, he leered, a dark and wicked expression in his eyes.

"I can sneak you into one of the empty guest suites upstairs," he said, "for a price. I'll even make sure it's a hot bath." He licked his lips, staring at her chest instead of her face. Appalled by his rudeness, Millicent backed away from him, and quickly dashed off, aware of his sniggering laughter at her back. She turned a corner, into another corridor, wondering how a castle could possible be so monotonous in appearance. At the end of this corridor was another flight of stairs, and she debated whether to go down or up. As she stood at the juncture, she heard a pair of older maids conversing in hushed judgmental tones. They were complaining about how little they got paid before the subject changed, to gossip.

"Can you believe another one is pregnant?" one of the maids asked, though her tone was hardly incredulous. "This one's only twelve, or so I heard."

"Shameless hussy," the other maid replied with a snort. "Probably did it, thinking she could get out of work. Well wait until she sees what's in store!" The pair of them laughed maliciously before their voices disappeared into the distance to where ever they were headed. Millicent frowned as she considered this tidbit of information. In the countryside where she lived, she had heard of girls getting married as young as fourteen, but a twelve year old seemed like little more than a child. She pitied the young girl, whoever she was. She opted to take the stairs going up, leading to another hallway, but a few of the doors were open, and she could see that the rooms were filled with sheets, linens and rugs. Maids and servants were coming and going, carrying various loads, so she returned back down the stairs, heading down another level.

The floor she was on seemed much busier than the one she came from, and she wondered if she was near the kitchen. The air did seem slightly more hot and humid, and there was an audible level of clinking, crackling, conversing and chopping. Following her ears as well as her nose, she made her way back to the busy kitchen. The closest person to her was a buxom woman peeling root vegetables. She did not look as harried and hassled as some of the other servants, but Millicent knew better than to judge by appearances alone. Though Millicent was not shy by any means, she still had to gather her courage to speak to the woman, considering the encounters she had experienced recently. She walked up to the woman and stood in front of her.

"Excuse me," she started, "Where might I have a bath drawn up?" The buxom woman looked up from her work, giving Millicent a quick up and down, which she was still getting used to. Millicent stood as tall as she could, trying not to show how much it bothered her to be so quickly judged.

"Bathes are only for the nobles," the woman said curtly. "You can get a sponge and bucket from the washers though." A sponge and bucket was better than nothing, and Millicent thanked the woman profusely for her help. All she needed to do now was figure out where the washers were.

As she made her way through the kitchen, Millicent spied the luscious apple tarts that had been on her tray earlier. A baker was by the table, rolling out dough, and with her typical, open demeanor, Millicent complimented him on how delicious the tarts were. The baker looked up from his work, his face sweaty and red, and his eyed narrowed into thin, glittering slits.

"The tarts are for the nobles, only," he said, not taking his eyes off of Millicent, "I had a couple of spit boys whipped earlier today for stealing a few tarts, but methinks I had the wrong culprits." Before Millicent could realize what was happening, the baker had made his way around the table, rolling pin in hand. He grabbed Millicent by the wrist, and brought the wooden pin down upon her body, beating her with relish. Panicked, Millicent wriggled, and twisted, trying to release herself from his grip, while attempting to avoid the heavy blows. The other servants simply looked up from their work, watching in curiosity or amusement, and none of them did anything to help, preferring to view the spectacle from afar.

Desperate to get away from the pain of the blows, Millicent pulled away as hard as she could, but as tightly as the baker had held her, his palms had been sweaty, and Millicent finally escaped. Her entire body burned and ached in pain, but she still had the strength to run, and not caring about who she bumped into in the process, she dashed out of the kitchen, and through the corridors and stairs, looking for her room.

The servants in the hallways gave her odd looks at her frightful, wide eyed expression, and messy appearance, but none of them offered any assistance. She wandered through the corridors, feeling as though she were going in circles, but eventually, she found the tiny little space that she believed to be her room. All the rooms essentially looked the same, but this one had a tray in it which she recognized.

Out of breath, Millicent slammed her door shut and collapsed onto the straw mattress, whimpering in terror and pain. Tears flowed from her eyes, and desperately wished she could escape her nightmarish situation. Though she was dirtier and more disheveled than ever, she no longer wished to have a bath, nor ever even leave her room at all.

A/N: The worse part is, the King hasn't even returned from his hunt yet... hahaha... poor Millicent, things are going to get a lot worse before they get better :P
- 9
- 10
- 11
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

What's in a name?