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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
- 13
- 14
- 15
A/N: I'm soooooooooo sorry for taking forever to update this story! :( Such a fail.... It just got too complicated in my head, so I kind of lost direction of how to go about it, so I'm trying to simplify the story so it doesn't turn into a novel :P ... Anyway, thank you so much for the kind reviews! They really do help. Also, I apologize for the inconsistencies in the story. I took such a long break from it before picking it up again and I was kind of too lazy to re-read the whole thing... it's just so long

Rumpelstiltskin deliberated for only a second before making up his mind. He slipped out of the room, restored his visibility, and then reentered the room. Though it was barely discernable, he was aware of Millicent flinching as she looked upon his face. His heart twisted in a knot of pain, hurt by the reaction she had to his ugliness, but at least she did not know him for who he truly was. To her, he was simply a strange, ugly man who had come to her at a time of need.

"Good morrow to you, sweet lass," he said to her gently. "What troubles you?" It had seemed so long that anyone had spoken to Millicent with any degree of kindness that she burst into tears. All the pain that she had been holding within herself suddenly came forth, and she wailed like a child. Startled by her outburst, Rumpelstiltskin hobbled over to her, and took her hand, stroking it lightly as though she were a baby animal. Though she had flinched at his ugliness, she did not pull away from his touch, accepting any kindness offered to her with gratitude. Eventually, her cries subsided into endearing hiccups, and she looked up at Rumpelstiltskin with swollen red eyes, embarrassed. He smiled down upon her, and though his smile did nothing to improve his countenance, Millicent was relieved and smiled back. She started to speak, though her words were broken up by her hiccups.

"The king expects hic that I spin this straw into hic gold, and I... I... hic I know not how!" she cried out pitifully. She looked so lost and so adorable that Rumpelstiltskin wanted to pull her into his arms and offer her sweets to sooth her wearied heart. Somehow, he managed to resist the urge to do so.

"What will you give me to do it?" Rumpelstiltskin asked, and though he was gazing upon her soft plump lips as he spoke, he knew that Millicent would never offer anything like a kiss to one as unsightly as he was. Millicent did not notice the direction of his gaze - instead her eyes were upon the straw, and her brow furrowed in thought.

"I have this necklace," she said, "but it is worth so little." Her eyes returned to his face, and once again, she wore her hopeless expression, but Rumpelstiltskin would have been willing to accept anything of hers. Even her gaze upon him was enough.

"It is enough," Rumpelstiltskin said. He sat himself down at the spinning wheel and started to spin, slowly transforming the straw so that it looked like gold. Though the illusion magic could have turned all the straw into gold in less than a heartbeat, the time spent at the spinning wheel gave him an excuse to be near Millicent and to talk to her. The wheel whirred round and round, and Millicent watched in fascination not so much because the straw was turning into gold, but that straw could even be spun in a spinning wheel at all. However, due to the sheer amount of straw, the sight eventually became monotonous, and Millicent's gaze left the spinning wheel and rested upon the funny looking man.

"What are you, exactly?" Millicent asked without thinking, before realizing how rude the question sounded. She covered her mouth, and her cheeks reddened at her poor manners. Rumpelstiltskin had not anticipated the question, and paused his spinning for a second before resuming his work, hoping she would not notice his stalling.

"I'm... uh... a... dwarf," he said, "A hobgoblin... of sorts..." Rumpelstiltskin kept his eyes on his spinning, aware that her gaze was upon him, and he felt uneasy with her questioning. He could barely keep himself from squirming nervously, and he hoped his cheeks weren't too obviously red.

"I thought dwarfs were supposed to be tiny little beings," Millicent replied, puzzled.

"Um... well, have you ever actually seen a dwarf before?" Rumpelstiltskin retorted.

"No..." Millicent said, pursing her lips as she considered the matter.

"Well, if you've never seen a dwarf, then you can't say what they look like, and seeing as I... um... am a dwarf, I would know best," Rumpelstiltskin said, hoping she would believe his explanation. Unsure of what else to say, Millicent decided to change the topic.

"Your spinning is marvelous - are all dwarves so good at spinning?" she asked, her eyes returning to the golden straw upon the spindle.

"Well, dwarves are good at many things. Being magical helps in that regard as well," Rumpelstiltskin replied. It seemed a general enough answer and unfortunately he knew very little of dwarves. Hopefully, Millicent was as ignorant as he was.

"It must be marvelous, having magical abilities," Millicent sighed wistfully. "There are so many things I'd love to do with such powers."

"Magic is likely more limited than you realize, dear one, but what would you want to do with magical powers?" Rumpelstiltskin inquired.

"Well," she started as she considered, "If I had magic, I could turn myself into a little mouse and escape this place. In fact, I could turn all the horrid people in this castle into mice and let the cats eat them. Or maybe that's too kind. Did you know, there was a man in the kitchen who beat me for no reason? In front of the whole staff, in fact, and no one came to my aid. I didn't even do anything to him!" There was an expression of indignation and dismay upon Millicent's face as she spoke, which transformed into thoughtfulness as she continued her diatribe.

"I'd like to give that man boils all over his body," Millicent said rather maliciously. "Not just any boils either - ones that are filled with oozing pus. Itchy boils! So that every time he scratches them, they burst and sting." Evidently, Millicent had not heard of the baker's unfortunate fate, and Rumpelstiltskin saw no reason to illuminate her to the truth. It was a rather horrific tale after all, and he was the cause of it. Besides, it amused him to see the fire in her eyes as she imagined her revenge against the man who had wronged her.

"You could make the boils stink," he suggested, and Millicent laughed at the notion.

"Yes!" she exclaimed, "The boils would stink. And the stink would attract the dogs who would try and gnaw at him like a juicy steak. He wouldn't be able to work, and everyone would laugh at him. I'd like to give everyone that accused me of being a witch boils. In fact, I almost wish I were a witch! Oh, if I were a witch, I'd turn them all into toads. Or I'd curse them so that everytime they tried to speak, dog droppings would fall from their mouths. Then they could never make false accusations again."

"You're too kind, sweet one," Rumpelstiltskin said with a laugh. "I imagine that I'd do far worse if anyone were to harm me thusly."

"Worse? What could be worse?" Millicent asked, unable to imagine a more terrible fate than oozing boils and dog droppings in one's mouth. Rumpelstiltskin only smiled mysteriously and continued spinning. They fell silent for a moment so that there was only the sound of Rumpelstiltskin's spinning. Millicent had lost track of how much time had passed but it seemed as though more than half the straw was already spun into gold.

"Tell me, what is life like as a dwarf?" Millicent said, breaking the silence between them. Rumpelstiltskin considered the question. He knew he would have to make it up as he went along.

"Well, we dwarves are quite... industrious," he began. "We live in... underground abodes, and we enjoy harvesting the fruits of the earth like.... gold and... um... turnips... silver.... minerals, dwarves rather like minerals and crystals. Our underground homes are vast but simple structures." Rumpelstiltskin rambled on, making up as many details as possible until Millicent eventually dozed off, unable to keep track of his weaving monologue. When he could hear her deep and steady breaths, he knew she was deeply asleep so he turned the rest of the straw into the illusion of gold, and sat back in his chair, tiredly. His fingers ached from spinning the straw, which in itself was a more difficult task than making the straw look like gold.

Maintaining the illusion of gold was draining a great deal of Rumpelstiltskin's strength, and although he was tempted to let the gold revert back to straw while Millicent slept, he felt it would be safer to keep the illusion until he was sure that Millicent would be freed from harm. He knew he would need a few days to recover a bit of his strength, but at the moment, he felt utterly depleted. He sat in silence next to Millicent, not watching her, but simply enjoying her presence. Eventually, when it was near to dawn, Rumpelstiltskin gently roused Millicent from her sleep. She muttered irritably, but when she realized where she was, she sat up, and looked towards the pile of gold, wide-eyed.

"Amazing!" Millicent explaimed.

"There is something you must know," Rumpelstiltskin said to Millicent, his gaze intent. Millicent's eyes scanned his face, and noticed that he looked rather haggard and worn out. Her heart twisted in concern, but before she could say anything, Rumpelstiltskin spoke.

"I must take a few days to recover my strength. If the king comes and demands more gold from you, you must delay him," Rumpelstiltskin informed her.

"More gold?" Millicent replied, puzzled, "How can anyone possibly use so much gold? Look at it all! I imagine he'll let me go free once he sees what has been done for him." Rumpelstiltskin frowned at her response. Though the world of fey was fairly removed from the world of man, humankind's greed was legendary. It seemed strange to him that Millicent could be so naive about such things.

"Just remember to delay him. Now I must go," Rumpelstiltskin said, as he stood up and hobbled towards the door.

"Thank you!" Millicent called out to him. "You... you've saved my life." Rumpelstiltskin looked back at Millicent, and his heart skipped at the warm smile upon her face. He smiled in return, nodding in acknowledgement before he left the room, and made his way down to the isolated corner of the root cellar where he collapsed into an exhausted heap and fell asleep in an instant.

In spite of her tiredness, Millicent was unable to fall back asleep. Her room had no windows, and she was unsure of the time, but she felt that the night was surely over. She could hear an increasing pattering of footsteps outside her door which indicated that servants were bustling about, getting ready for the day. There was nothing for her to do but wait for the king to make his entrance.

Millicent was self consciously brushing her fingers through her mussed up hair when the door swung open, and a pompous servant once again announced the king's presence. Millicent stood up and bowed nervously, unsure of what to expect, yet hoping for a chance at freedom. The king's expression was cold and irritated as he entered the room, but as the gleaming light of the gold reflected off his face, his eyes widened, and his jaw dropped open in awe. Luckily, no one but Millicent noticed his slack jawed expression, for everyone's eyes seemed to be shining with reverence at the sight of so much gold. The sheer amount of it was awe inspiring, and it seemed to make the entire room glow and sparkle.

The king soon recovered his bearing, but he could not hide the trembling pleasure in his voice as he ordered his servants to take the gold away to be weighed and counted. Though it surely would have been easier to melt the gold into coins first, he did not want a single strand to be missed. There was no need to threaten the servants not to steal - after all, they knew the penalty would be the death of their entire family, and torture for themselves. As servants came filing into the room to take away the gold, the king's eyes fell upon Millicent. There was no longer an expression of contempt upon his face, however his expression was far from respect and admiration. In fact, he looked at her, as though he were looking upon a new hunting dog and trying to ascertain it's true value.

"You shall be given more straw," the king stated coldly and disdainfully, for he hated to lower himself by speaking directly to a woman.

"Please, your majesty," Millicent cried out, frightened by his complete ingratitude, "Please, I must... I must have time to recover my strength! Surely you have enough gold..."

"Watch your tongue, you inept bitch!" the king roared out. He made a gesture at his servant, who walked up to her and backhanded her face with such force that she fell against the floor, her cheek stinging and red.

"What shall you do with this time hmm?" the king continued angrily, "Sleep in my castle? Eat my food? Avail yourself to my servants?" Suddenly the king's tone changed from furiously loud, to dangerously soft.

"Alright you ignorant country cow," he said contemptuously, "You may have two days rest. In fact, you may have your rest in a grand chamber, twice as large as this once with twice as much straw. And as you love your petty useless little life, that straw shall be gold in three days time."

Without another word, the king whirled away and exited the room bellowing orders to his servants to prepare a new room. Millicent remained on the floor of the room, her heart beating frantically in terror. Indeed, it's pace was so fast, that she felt as though her heart was ready to leap out of her throat, and scurry away where it could bury itself somewhere safe and never to be found. It seemed there was a vice around her lungs, squeezing and squeezing the breath out of her. What faith she had in the goodness of humanity seemed to crumble away, leaving nothing but fear and desolation, and then more fear. What if it wasn't enough time, she wondered. What if the dwarf's magic was too worn out, and he could not help her? He had looked so haggard when he left, that surely he could not be expected to transform twice as much straw into gold. And moreover, could she really even rely on him? Surely these next three days would be the last days of her life.

Every thought whirred around in her mind like an angry wasp, stinging her with fear and doubt. She was completely immobilized and until she felt a feather light touch at her shoulder and jumped in fear. She looked up at the wan face of the pregnant maid who wore a strikingly similar expression of hopelessness and dejection upon her face although the maid's forlorn expression had been put there by a lifetime's worth of miserable servitude.

"I'm to be your maidservant, miss," the pregnant girl said, her voice timid and quiet. The girl's gaze flickered to Millicent's red cheek, and then back down to the floor. Her voice betrayed her youthfulness, and as Millicent looked closely at the pregnant girl's face, she was struck with the awareness that the servant girl was much younger than she was.

"Would you like to go to your new room now, miss?" the girl asked in her soft neutral voice. Millicent shook her head.

"Please, I'd like to stay here a while... I need a moment," Millicent replied. They remained together in silence as servants in the corridors rushed back and forth, many of them carrying mounds of hay. The moments passed by with a surreal quality, and Millicent began to consider the absurdity of the situation. How did a simple miller's daughter end up causing a whole castle to rush around like crazed ants, carrying bundles of hay? She would have laughed it the situation was any less horrible.

"Tell me about yourself," Millicent said, breaking the silence between her and the maid. She remained sitting on the floor, ignoring the discomfort of the hard stones beneath her. Her gaze remained upon the open passage of the door, watching the to and fro motions of the harried servants, but when her question was met with silence, Millicent looked up at the young maid.

The girl was biting her lips in agitation, as her hands wrung the fabric of her rough spun dress into twisted lumps. Her expression was that of an animal caught in a trap and unsure of what to do. Her eyes darted towards Millicent and then the door, as though she was contemplating running away, and yet her feet remained rooted to the spot. Dismayed by the terror radiating from the maid, Millicent stood up, ignoring the tingling cramps in her legs.

"I'm sorry!" she exclaimed, "I'm really very sorry, I didn't mean to intrude." She reached out her hand in a reassuring gesture towards the young maid but the girl flinched away with an expression of fear and confusion upon her face. Alarmed, Millicent pulled her hand back, and held it nervously against her chest.

"You needn't tell me anything at all if you don't wish to. I simply wanted to know you a bit better. After all, there are so few friendly souls here in this place," Millicent murmured, talking half to the maid and half to herself. "I mean, with the way the King treats me, I'm no more than a servant myself. It's not a fate I ever imagined for myself - my father would probably have an apoplectic fit if he knew how I had been treated here - but then again, I never thought castle life would be glamorous to begin with, and with the way the King goes about, one wonders if he has servants that wipe his arse for him. It's all so strange and ridiculous!"

Millicent's tangled ramblings, which seemed to fall from her mouth without forethought elicited a scandalized gasp from the young girl, who gazed out the door as though terrified that someone may have over heard the treasonous words.

"You - you could get us killed for saying such things!" the girl hissed fearfully. "Or at best, the King would have our tongues removed and fed to the hogs!"

"Truly?" Millicent exclaimed in surprise, "and I suppose if someone were to look at him wrong, he would gouge out their eyes?" Millicent's disbelieving tone was lost to the maid who nodded vehemently.

"I've seen it happen to at least one servant myself," the maid replied, "There was eye jelly everywhere; the dogs were lapping it up."

The gory imagery caused a shiver to run down Millicent's spine and she was momentarily silent as she contemplated the tyrant who demanded such an impossible task from her. In her naivety, she had assumed the King's horrible temper and cruel words were said as hollow threats. After all, he had made threats to her before, and yet she still remained relatively whole. Her faith in humanity continued to crumble as she was exposed to the horrible influences of the city. What punishment would the King mete out if she were to fail him? And what if his lust for gold was insatiable?

"I'm sorry miss!" the young maid cried, as she witnessed Millicent's face grow pale. "I spoke out of turn!" As though it was a force of habit, the girl looked down towards the floor, with a slight hunch to her shoulders, trying to make herself seem as small and insignificant as possible.

"Please," Millicent said, "You don't have to do that. I know you're just fulfilling your duties and I've probably made life all the more difficult for you. After all, you're the pregnant one, and I ought to be taking care of you!" Millicent smiled warmly, hoping to coax the timid girl from her shell.

"And please call me Millicent," she added, "What's your name?"

"My name?" replied the maid with an incredulous tone, as though she had never been asked that question her entire life. Millicent only nodded in response.

"Well, my name..." the maid stammered nervously, "My name, it's Carine."

"It's lovely to meet you, Carine," Millicent replied, her voice optimistic with warmth at the prospect of meeting another friendly soul. "I hope we can be friends." Carine blushed, but kept her gaze downwards.

"Shall I lead you to your room now, miss... I mean, Millicent?" Carine asked timidly. Millicent grinned in response and nodded, feeling yet another spark of hope light up amidst the dismal circumstance that was her fate.
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What's in a name?