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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
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As it turned out, Carine ended up giving birth whilst in town. She was not learning her trade that day, but had gone to the market with Olivie to buy some supplies. When the cramps began to hit her, she doubled over in surprise. Fortunately, the midwife was not far from the market, and several townsfolk helpfully guided her towards the midwife’s home. Carine’s labour was long and difficult. After all, she was still so young, and pregnancy was an immense stress. Millicent had received word of Carine’s labour, and quickly made their way into town. As much as Millicent wanted to avoid being around people, she would not leave her friend’s side at this important moment.

At the midwife’s home, she fretted over Carine like some protective mother hen, and the midwife eventually had to shoo her away and tell her to wait in another room. Olivie was also in the other room with her, feeling no small degree of trepidation as she heard her sister’s cries of pain. She was petting Petal idly, her eyes wide and frightened.

  “It’ll be alright, Olivie,” Millicent said, but she wasn’t sure if she was reassuring the girl, or reassuring herself. As the hours past, the midwife occasionally barked orders to Millicent to gather her a fresh basin of water, or some more clean linens. Whenever she looked over at Carine, the girl was sweaty, and there were dark circles under her eyes. Her auburn curls were plastered to her head as she laboured.

It wasn’t until near midnight when the baby was finally born. Millicent and Olivie had been been by Carine’s side, each of them holding one of her hands. Millicent was strangely calm, though this may have been because her soul felt as though it had been rendered raw through grief and exhaustion. Olivie was staring at her sister, wide-eyed, and slightly fearful. She had witnessed birth before - once in the slums, she had seen a prostitute having a baby in an alleyway. However, it was a different matter when it was her own sister. She was aware that women often died during pregnancy, and she knew she would never forgive the baby if it killed her sister.

Fortunately, when the baby girl was finally born, both she and the mother were perfectly healthy. Carine fell in love with the little girl immediately, and was the midwife and Millicent both commented about how much the wee thing resembled her mother.

  “What will you name her?” Millicent asked, her heart melting upon seeing the baby, despite her own emotional weariness.

  “Well, Olivie and I were discussing names, and we decided that if I had a girl, I’d name her Nadine.” Carine smiled down at the baby, her eyes soft and loving.

  “Can I see?” Olivie asked her sister timidly.

  “Of course, Ollie-dear. Do you want to hold her?” Carine tried to sit up, and held the baby out towards her sister.

Olivie’s eyes widened as she looked up at her sister’s face, and then down towards the baby. She looked fearful, as though the little girl was made of glass, but she reached out her arms, and took Nadine.

  “Wow, it’s so… wrinkly,” Olivie said, gazing down at the baby curiously. Seeing Nadine under the candlelight certainly did not help. Carine laughed tiredly.

  “You kind of looked the same when you were born,” Carine replied with amusement. Olivie looked up at her sister doubtfully before handing the baby back, and Carine held her with care.

  “I think it’s time we give the new mother some rest. And all of you as well,” the midwife said briskly. “I haven’t a spare room, but you two may sleep by the hearth, if you don’t wish to walk back to your home.”

Millicent had no desire to stay in town. She longed to return back to the loft, and climb into her own bed. The idea of having people around made her uncomfortable and unhappy. However, the notion of leaving her friend filled her with guilt. The midwife must have seen Millicent’s conflict, for she rested a reassuring hand on Millicent’s arm.

  “I’ll be here with her. You need not worry about her care. She’s perfectly healthy so I’ll be able to send her home soon,” the kindly woman said. Millicent looked up at her gratefully.

  “Do you want me to call up a lad to walk you home?” the midwife asked.

  “No, thank you,” Millicent replied, her voice thick with gratitude. The midwife still had her hand on Millicent’s arm.

  “Don’t hesitate to come to town, lass,” the midwife said gently. “The folk’ll welcome you. Whatever is hurting you, you don’t have to hurt alone.” Millicent felt a lump in her throat and her eyes prickled with tears. She didn’t know what to say, so she just nodded.

  As Millicent walked home that night under the light of the half moon, she considered the midwife’s words. Yet, as kind as the offer was, she felt like no one could possibly understand her. The circumstances that she had lived through were so strange, so beyond the ordinary. Even when she attempted to speak to Carine who had been there, the girl did not seem to understand. The whole situation seemed strange to her.

Objectively, Millicent could understand that she would have strong feelings for the magical man when she was in a circumstance where nearly everyone was either cruel or indifferent to her. But now, things had changed. Now nearly everyone around her was friendly and kind, but she did not crave their friendliness and did not want their kindness. They may have been good people, but it was her friend she wanted. These townsfolk were not her friends. Carine and Olivie were lovely, and she would certainly consider them friends, but they were not him. They had each other - and now a baby to add to the mix. She had...Millicent shook her head in frustration. She had friends, she had people who cared about her. She couldn’t believe that she had been about to think that she had ‘noone.’ If her magical friend had left her, clearly he did not care about her enough. But why did that idea strike her as being so wrong? She wanted to scream. Unconsciously, her hands were balled up as fists, as she walked the dark dirt path towards the house. She wanted to keep going, deep into the woods. She wanted to cry, and threaten - threaten what? That she wouldn’t leave until he came to her? That she would stay, rooted in the woods, and starve herself until he was there? The idea was tempting… too tempting. And why did she associate him with the woods anyway, when she had met him at the palace? But magical or not, there was no guarantee that he would hear her; that he would find her. It was the height of foolishness. But who cared about being foolish? She’d gladly play the fool, if it meant she could have him before her. And then what? Then she’d shake him, and ask him: how dare he? How dare he leave her?

Her throat felt thick, and her eyes burned. She didn’t want to keep crying for him. He didn’t deserve her tears. It was through this blur of thoughts that Millicent finally arrived at the small house. As she curled up in her loft, the same thoughts were still going around in her head. How dare he.

When Carine returned to the house with Olivie and baby Nadine, there was once again too much to do for Millicent to be troubled by her thoughts. While Carine doted on Nadine, she was also determined to continue her apprenticeship. In fact, the Master Chandler had an acquaintance who had a baby almost at the same time as Carine, was more than willing to be a wet nurse. Millicent herself volunteered her services to take care of Nadine, and it was with bemusement that she noticed how grateful she was for the little slip of a creature that disturbed her sleep, and kept her in a wonderfully numb exhaustion. Afterall, who had time to think and feel when they were exhausted?

Millicent had been tending the baby one day with the wet nurse, a kindly older woman named Berdine. Berdine had brought along her own wee babe, and mostly just fed Nadine when Nadine was hungry. It was still rather early in the day, so when Carine returned to the house, much earlier than usual, and in a state of energized excitement, Millicent was completely caught off guard.

  “He’s dead!” Carine exclaimed, rather breathlessly, for she had dashed home as quickly as she could, Olivie trailing in behind her.

  “What?” Millicent looked at Carine in bewilderment. Someone was dead, but Carine clearly did not look sad or troubled by this fact. In fact, she looked suspiciously happy.

  “The King! Dead! Can you believe it? I can scarce… well, it’s old news of course. Over a month old…” Carine looked rather disgusted by this fact.

  “My master” here Carine was referring to the master chandler who was training her “doesn’t stand for gossip, else I’m sure I would have heard sooner. I heard it from some merchants. Here we’ve been, fretting and worrying about the king finding us, and he’s been dead! Over a month dead!” Carine giggled rather manically. “We’ve been worrying over nothing!”

  “The king…. Is dead?” Millicent said, rather shocked that the imposing and frightening man was gone. Berdine, the wet nurse, was looking between Carine and Millicent with bewilderment. She had been aware that the king was dead - such old news. But why where the two misses so happy about it? Shouldn’t they be respectfully sad, like normal folk would be?

  “Dead!” Carine repeated, gleefully.

  “But…. then…. Who is the king now?” Millicent asked. What if the new king came looking for her, expecting her to turn straw into gold? She couldn’t bear to have to endure that again. And this time around, there wouldn’t be a magical friend to save her. Carine’s face fell. Clearly, she had not asked the gossiping merchants for enough information.

“Why, it’s King Rousset Duquesne, of course. ‘Eard ‘e did not ‘ave a very grand coronation. Me cousin said the best part was the day off work,” Berdine cut in, rather matter of factly. Berdine was rarely at the forefront of fresh gossip, and it was pleasing to have this information to wave over the young misses’ heads. She tried not to look too smug.

  “Rousset,” Carine repeated, breathy with surprise. “Rousset?”

  “Aye, miss. Young thing, I heard - ah, no disrespect meant. But just a young lad. The old king’s nephew.” Berdine didn’t know what to make of Carine’s focused wide-eyed expression. “You knew ‘im?” Berdine couldn’t imagine that any of the young misses would know the king. Certainly, they were pretty young things - but he was the king! What would the king have to do with normal folk? However, Carine was no longer paying attention to the wet nurse. Her expression was distant - a strange mix of longing and hope. As for Millicent, she did not know what to feel. She did not think Rousset was the sort who would lock her up and demand that she spin gold, but what if he wanted to study her? What if he found out it was all a lie? It could be possible that she would be put to death for lying to a king. And what of Carine? Carine, who was so obviously in love with the young king. Millicent looked over at the young girl, easily reading the yearning in her eyes.

  “What will you do, Carine?” Millicent asked her softly. The question snapped Carine out of her daze, and she looked over at her friend.

  “I…. oh…. I haven’t a notion. He would never….that is to say, he’s king now. We could never…. And besides, I have a life here. I have Olivie, and Nadine. I….” Carine’s breaths were coming in short and shallow spurts. She looked deeply conflicted, as though the rising hope within her had to be quickly crushed down, stamped to the ground before it consumed her and drove her mad with longing. Such longing.

  “I can’t,” Carine said softly, painfully. “I can’t.” Millicent, who had been holding Nadine, handed the baby over to the wet nurse. She walked over to Carine and hugged her close, her heart filled with the deepest sympathy.

  “I’m sorry, Carine,” Millicent said softly, into the girl’s auburn hair. There was nothing else she could say. She could understand how it was, to want to be with someone, and not be able to be with them. Olivie, who did not understand the situation at all, walked over and leaned her head against her sister, hugging her comfortingly. Carine was crying, silent tears. She had been busy - often too busy to think of Rousset - but when she did think of him, it was always with a sense of hopefulness, a sense of “maybe.” But as King, that gap was too wide. Far, far too wide. She could acknowledge now, at least to herself, that yes, she did love him, but that meant acknowledging a love that could never be. If ever she were to see him again, it would only be in the capacity of a servant. To be so close and yet so far from him would destroy her. After all, a king needed a queen, and Carine was no princess.

Gently, Millicent led Carine over to a chair at the kitchen table and sat her down. She took Nadine from the wet nurse’s arms, and sent the older woman on her way. Berdine was all too happy to take her wee babe and go. The wet nurse did not understand what was going on with the young misses, but she knew that whatever it was, it was delicious gossip. The girls had all but said that they knew the king. She had to tell someone.

As for Millicent, she went into the kitchen to brew up a cup of herbal tea - ordinary tea was a luxury for the rich, not the common folk. Olivie had sat next to her sister, holding her hand. None of them spoke. Even Olivie, who had gone from a subdued child to a cheerful chatterbox, didn’t say a word. When the water boiled, Millicent brought the hot cup of herbal tea to her friend, and sat across from her. Carine nodded her head appreciatively.

  “I…. I’m okay. You need not fret over me,” Carine said, trying to keep her voice from wavering. It was hard to believe her, considering how puffy her eyes were, but Millicent did not argue.

  “It doesn’t change anything,” Carine continued.

  “We’ll be here for you,” Millicent said. Olivie nodded her support. It seemed there was nothing left to say.

The next few days seemed to be a parody of normalcy, but eventually, Carine seemed to settle back into the routine of her life. Millicent and Olivie did their best to support Carine, and while Carine’s grief broke her heart, Millicent was also secretly glad for the added distraction to prevent her from thinking of her own woes. Of course, such thoughts also made her feel terribly guilty.

Berdine had spread the gossip throughout town that the young misses knew the king, this resulted in the unintended side-effect of everyone seeking out Carine’s attention, trying to discover some tidbit of information. Fortunately for Carine, the master chandler’s no nonsense approach drove away the curious townsfolk, insulating Carine from their intrusiveness. Carine was rather withdrawn, but over time, she was able to open up, sharing stories of Rousset’s kindness, and her certainty that he would be a wonderful king. Her natural warmth shone through, and she found that she liked sharing her experiences with the townsfolk, who in turn shared their own stories. Berdine’s actions had somehow created more friends for Carine, and as such, news and gossip reached her more quickly. This was how she eventually found out that there was a bounty on the head of a “criminal who falsely turned straw into gold.”

  “It’s terrible, Millicent!” Carine wailed when she found out. Millicent was mostly just glad to be ‘Millicent’ and not ‘miss Millicent.’

  “It’s not so bad,” Millicent replied, consoling her friend. “There’s nothing to identify me. The proclamation didn’t state what sort of person to look out for. And I am most certainly never going back to the palace.”

  “But...but… you're a wanted woman!” Carine exclaimed through her tears. “They’ll kill you!”

  “Surely not. I imagine they only put out that proclamation because they had to look like they were doing something. If they really cared, there would be troops of soldiers out doing a search. There’s been nothing like that - if there was, we would have heard word of it.” Millicent was mostly trying to comfort her friend, so she did not realize how true her words were. Rousset had no intention of harming or killing Millicent, but the crime was grave enough that he could not overlook it. The proclamation was just his way of sidestepping the problem. Eventually, Carine calmed down, but from that moment on, she paid particular care to all incoming gossip, just to make sure that there weren’t troops of soldiers, knocking down doors in search for the royal criminal.

As for Rousset, he was in the cabinet room with his advisors, deep in a discussion for how to raise additional funds for the kingdom. While the horrible carnage that had wiped out the previous king and the numerous noblemen was a tragic event, it had the added benefit of wiping out many of the previous king’s debts. Afterall, those creditors were long gone and buried. On top of that, with so many nobles dead, there were many vast estates and tracts of land that now belonged to the crown. Strangely, the king’s death had put them in a better position. Rousset just had to make sure the advisors did not get carried away with trying to tax the subjects within an inch of their lives. The issue was seemingly coming to a resolution when one of the advisors brought up a new topic.

  “What of marriage, your majesty?” asked the wispy, white haired advisor.

  “What of it?” Rousset looked over at the advisor questioningly. The first thought that popped into his head was Carine. The second thought was of the sycophantic noblewomen who simpered at him any time he was in their presence. He had to repress a shudder.

The thought of women made him think of the early days of his reign, when his noble right to be king had been established. Oh, how the women flocked to him then. Initially, he had been red-faced, bumbling, and terribly embarrassed. It was all he could do to speak to them without stuttering, and making a fool of himself in front of the other noblemen. It wouldn’t do to gain their respect, only to lose it because he was unable to maintain his dignity around women.

Most teenage boys would have been thrilled by the female attention. Most teenage boys would have soaked it up, as plant soaked up sunlight. However, Rousset was not most boys. Yes, women were rather mystifying, and yes, talking to them made his face and ears turn scarlet, but his rationality was still there. He was still himself, and being himself meant that despite his embarrassment, he was also able to objectively observe the behaviour of women towards him. These objective observations were far from flattering.

There were a number of women that he was acquaintances with, back when he was no more than the bookish, forgettable nephew of the king. None of these women had given him a second glance in the past (not that he made an effort to seek out their attention). And yet now, they were fawning all over him, batting their eyelashes, and “accidently” bumping into him in the hallways. Did they think he would forget how they used to ignore him? With the way women were throwing themselves at him, they soon lost their mystique. It didn’t mean that women were any less mysterious - it just meant that he cared much, much less. It also meant that he missed Carine a great deal more. It was strange how despite the fact that she was no longer here, she still felt more real than the women around him.

  “Well, your majesty,” the white haired advisor was saying, “You need heirs. You must establish your position.”

“It would also be a good opportunity to create a political alliance,” the bearded advisor was saying. “It would create added security for the kingdom.”

  “The king of Melum has a daughter. She is still but a child but that means you can mold her. Melum is a rich kingdom, and it neighbours our own. A natural choice,” said the grey haired advisor.

  “Enough of this!” Rousset snapped with irritation. His life as king already felt like a facade, and now, he would have to pretend with his wife as well? The idea was unbearable. He needed someone that he could be with where he could at least be himself. There was only one person he could think of.

  “I will choose my own wife,” Rousset said, meeting the eyes of all his advisors with an expression that brooked no argument. None of the advisors uttered a word of protest. But it was obvious they were curious. As for Rousset, now that it was time to find a wife, the question was, how could he find Carine? If he issued a royal summons, would she even come? The proclamations of a king reached most of the towns and cities, but there were still villages where a person could easily disappear, and hear no word from the king. What about a ball? A ball for all eligible maidens in the land? No, that would be impractical - also, he could barely dance. A message then. A message to all the towns and cities, that would create rumours certain to spread. Rumours that could create excitement, and reach every corner of the kingdom. After all, marrying a king would be desirable to almost all women.

“Issue a royal proclamation to all towns and cities,” Rousset commanded his advisors. “State that I will marry the woman who owns the other half of a special ribbon.” The advisors stared at him in wide eyed shock.

  “A…. ribbon, your majesty?” Rousset nodded once in assent. He wasn’t going to show them the ribbon - the precious object that was the only thing he had of Carine. After all, it would only encourage devious souls to try and copy it. But there was only one real copy of this ribbon out there, with it’s childish embroidery and embellishments. The question now was, would she respond?

With all of Carine’s new friends, it seemed as though Millicent rarely ever saw her anymore. Moreover, Carine often took Nadine with her to town, where Berdine would watch over her. Though ordinarily, she would have been troubled to have her friend slipping away, to Millicent, all it meant was more time alone in the woods, with her thoughts.

This widened the gap between Carine and Olivie from Millicent. Though she should have been troubled, she wasn’t. More and more, Millicent preferred her own thoughts, and her own company. She could barely relate to the townsfolk, and while they treated her graciously, she had no desire to further their acquaintance. With a sigh, Millicent thought she was becoming a recluse.

She still saw Carine, Olive and Nadine in the evenings of course - Carine seemed to bubble with gossip and news. She had made many friends, which meant that she always had stories to tell.

One day, Carine came back to the house, with a mixture of irrepressible excitement, but also a touch of worry that marred her brow. Noticing that Carine was looking like she was about to burst, Millicent stopped stirring the stew in the cauldron and looked over at her friend.

  “You look like you have news Carine?”

  “Yes! I mean, yes. It’s...oh... it’s -” Carine struggled to find the words, and Milicent waited patiently for her to gather her thoughts.

  “There’s been a royal proclamation,” she finally said. “It...the king...Rousset. He made a proclamation that ‘whosoever has the other half of a very special ribbon shall be made his wife’” Carine was repeating the proclamation, nearly word for word.

  “Ribbon?”

  “Well, before I left, I gave Rousset half of my ribbon - the one that Olivie and I decorated together. I Think I told you about it once. Mayhap… well, I could be wrong...but mayhap the special ribbon he is referring to is mine.” Carine’s cheeks coloured rosily. Millicent was suddenly struck by how pretty the girl was.

  “Why, that’s wonderful!” Millicent exclaimed.

  “Oh - I’m not certain he means me. But…” A dreamy expression came over Carine’s face, and Millicent smiled. She had seen the way that Rousset and Carine had interacted. They would be perfect for one another.

  “Well, some of the girls in the village wanted to make the journey to the castle together. I never told them about my ribbon - they’re all going because they want to… well….be married to the King. I’m going to go with them.”

  “Will you be taking Olivie and Nadine?” Millicent asked.

  “Yes, the girls will help me with them.” Carine wore a slightly troubled expression on her face.

  “What is it, Carine?” Millicent asked with concern.

  “It’s just… what of you, Millicent? There’s a bounty on your head! You can’t come with me. You’ll be all alone!” Millicent was touched by Carine’s words. The fact that despite her excitement, she still worried about Millicent showed the depth of Carine’s caring.

  “Oh Carine,” Millicent said. She walked over to her friend, and hugged her. “I’ll be fine. I’m happiest when I’m by the forest - I’m sure you’ve noticed. Go. Be happy!”

Carine felt a lump in her throat, and her eyes prickled with tears.

  “Oh Millicent!” she cried, holding her friend tightly. “You’re such a wonderful friend. I never would have escaped that horrible dead king without you. What will you do?”

“Hm…I don’t know. I might not stay here. Perhaps it would do me good to travel,” Millicent said thoughtfully. She pulled out of the hug, and examined Carine’s tear-stained face.

“You’d make a wonderful Queen,” Millicent murmured.

“Oh, I don’t care about that!” Carine exclaimed. Millicent laughed.

“I know, dear,” she smiled warmly. “I just thought I’d let you know. When will you leave?”

“On the morrow,” Carine replied.

“So soon? Hm… why don’t we split the coins we have? I’m sure you’ll need it.”

  “Oh no, I couldn’t take those coins from you,” Carine exclaimed.

  “I insist,” Millicent replied firmly, and Carine gave a shaky smile.

  “Millicent?” Carine said.

  “Hmm?”

  “You’ll find your love. I believe it with all my heart,” Carine said. Millicent smiled sadly in return.
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What's in a name?