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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
- 8
- 9
- 10
Rumpelstiltskin was huddled in the hollow of a large dead tree attempting to sleep when he was disrupted by the clopping sounds of hooves. His heart, mind and body ached, and all he wanted to do was sleep the rest of his life away, but the fates were cruel, and even sleep was denied to him. He should have known better than to try and sleep in a tree so close to a road, but it seemed as though every other nook and cranny in the forest belonged to some animal that refused to share lodgings.

Awkwardly, he crawled out of the hollow, still trying to find his bearings with his new body. He squinted his small eyes against the bright light of the afternoon sun, and hobbled gracelessly towards the road, peeking out from behind a bushy shrub that hid his presence. The road he was by was quite a distance from the countryside where the miller and his wife lived. In fact, this particular road was one of many that lead to the capital where the king held his court. Rumpelstiltskin had been wandering, almost non-stop, desperate to get away from the familiar woods as though trying to escape the horror of the fate that had befallen him. His life now seemed to consist of two things: traveling and sleeping. As long as he wasn't thinking, feeling or remembering, he thought it would be okay. He could handle a numbed state.

It came as an utter shock then, as he peeked out from the bushes, to see who it was that was coming upon the road. Upon a dappled mare, surrounded by a pair of servants, was Millicent who looked achingly beautiful, despite the steely expression on her face that hid her confusion and heartbreak. She kept her gaze straight ahead of her, as though oblivious to the world around her, steady as an organic statue.

Rumpelstiltskin was unable to peel his eyes away from her, drinking in the sight of her as though he were some starved creature, and she a feast. Every part of him hummed, vibrant, alive and aware, and he knew that he had to follow her. His life might be worth less than the dirt he trod upon, but if he could only glimpse her once in a while, he could continue on living.

Yet, where was it she was going, and why was she being led by servants? Moreover, it was evident to Rumpelstiltskin that Millicent was feeling wretchedly miserable, in spite of the stoic expression on her face. He hated himself as he never had before, knowing that he had abandoned her after their beautiful moment in the woods. However, the thought of letting Millicent see him as the monster he was now was like striking a dagger through his heart. Of all people, he felt that he could least endure the expression of disgust that would pass across her face.

The horses trotted at an easy pace and, driven by the sight of Millicent, Rumpelstiltskin easily trailed the trio, using the earth magic he still had to blend in with the landscape once the trees grew sparse as forest became farmland and pastures. The sun was slowing setting, giving the sky a hazy pinkish lavender hue, and knowing that they would not reach the capital by nightfall, the servants led the horses off the road, and began to set up camp. They only had two bedrolls between them, and decided that two people would sleep at a time while one kept watch, changing shifts throughout the night. Ungenerously, they expected Millicent to take a guard shift, not seeing the point in letting some country bumpkin be treated like a noble guest. Millicent had no complaints of her treatment - after all, she was used to hard work, and saw nothing questionable in the servants' treatment of her.

Taking advantage of her ignorance, the servants gave Millicent the second watch, knowing that it would be the most unpleasant and difficult. A fire was made, and bread and cheese was shared and eaten in sullen silence. As darkness fell over the landscape, Rumpelstiltskin was aware of the presence of faeries around him, though they kept clear of him. He could hear their melodic chattering voices as they laughed, danced and made mischief. It seemed strange to him that he would never again be welcome back into their world. Yet, as he gazed at Millicent's resting form upon the bedroll, he knew that he would prefer to be near her than to be part of the playful world of the fey. If the only way he could be by her was to sulk about in the shadows, then he would do so.

Millicent in the meantime found it impossible to fall asleep. The bedroll had a strong, sharp and musty odor like old sweat and it was lumpy and misshapen. The air itself was crisp and cold, chilling any skin that was exposed. The blanket that was provided her was rather moth-eaten and poorly patched, and it seemed almost pointless to use it. Her mind raced as she thought about the past few days. She could not even bear to think about what lay ahead of her as she approached the capital. Staring into the darkness, she was haunted by images of her parents happily abandoning her to her fate, or of the shadowy figure running away from her after she awoke from the most intimate encounter of her life.

There was a part of her that was tempted to simply get up and run. Perhaps she could take the horse provided for her, and head for the woods. Deep down, she refused to believe that the dark haired man would ever discard her so cruelly, and she fantasized about seeking him out and making him see that what lay between them could not be so easily denied. However, the threat the king had made about charlatans kept her rooted to the spot. Though she felt betrayed by what her parents had done to her, she would never risk bringing the wrath of the king upon them. Especially if it cost them their lives. She sighed into the night, wriggling her head uncomfortably, irritated by the way her mother had braided and coiled her hair. Millicent felt truly trapped by her circumstances.

After hours of anxious thinking, Millicent finally fell into a fitful sleep, only to be rudely awakened by one of the servants shaking her shoulder. It was her turn to keep watch, and shivering, she stepped into the cold, silently cursing the thin fabric of her beautiful dress that did nothing to shield her from the elements. Her night watch consisted of more torturous thoughts, and when she was finally relieved of her duty, her sleep was filled with nightmares.

The following day, the trio set off at dawn, and although Millicent's entire body ached from riding the horse the day before, the pain distracted her from her thoughts and was almost a relief. She kept most of her focus on trying to stay atop the horse, so her surroundings were once again a blur. By late afternoon however, she noticed that she was no longer hearing just the chirping of birds, the clopping of hooves, and the whoosh of the breeze. The road and surrounding area leading the capital was becoming more crowded with people, coming and going, selling their wares, and living their daily hectic lives. Millicent was finally drawn away from her internal domain, and looked around, amazed to see so many people doing so many things.

The trio were at the outskirts of the capital, coming upon the sprawling city that surrounded the castle. When Millicent had initially imagined being sent off to the palace, she had imagined a towering regal structure that was to be her prison. She had not even considered the enormous bustling city that would surround it. After all, the town close to the mill was the only one she had ever visited. A city would have been completely beyond her comprehension.

As the group traveled up the road, the stench of sweat, musk, blood, rot and human waste assailed Millicent's nose, along side smells of warm musty animals and food. The noise increased to a constant din of yelling, clanging, clopping, barking, dragging, slamming and so many other sounds that could not be identified. The road side was increasingly surrounded by haphazardly placed merchants' stalls as well as run down shacks made of an assortment of materials ranging from stones, to mud, to straw. The servants ignored the surroundings, accustomed to the fact that the poorest members of the capital lived in the outskirts, whilst the more affluent lived near the center. It seemed that every merchant in their stall was calling out to Millicent, desperate for her to see their meager wares as they pushed and shoved aggressively.

"Best you keep your coin close," one of the servants called out to Millicent, and she frowned as she considered the fact that her parents had given her nothing aside from the clothes on her back. Looking at the crowd of ragged peasants, labourers, merchants and townsfolk, she had no doubt that anything of worth would quickly be stolen. Still, to be polite, she thanked the servant for the warning, but he was already ignoring her as the trio moved through the crowd.

The air was thick and heavy and even though Millicent was atop her horse, she could feel the pressing heat of bodies around her. It seemed strange to barely be able to see the ground because of the sheer number of people rushing to and fro. As they moved past the poor district, the atmosphere was no longer quite as oppressive, nor was the stench, but a stagnant unpleasantness still lingered. Here, the houses were made of wood and stone, and merchants sold their wares in shops. It looked more like a town, rather than a hovel, and yet, it was immensely crowded and seemingly unorganized. The houses were all extremely narrow, as were the streets, with dark winding alley ways interspersed throughout like a maze. The noise was as bad as it was in the poorer district, for here, the roads were cobblestone, and everything that moved over it made a constant clack, clack, clack. Millicent noticed that the residents of the town were better dressed than those in the poor district, many of them wearing sturdy clothes of varying colours, ranging from forest green, to sandy yellow, to rusty red, or dark navy.

The trio wound their way through the town, and Millicent wondered how the servants could ever even remember where they were going. As they drew closer to the center of the capital, they came to a massive wooden gate set in an enormous and imposing stone wall. There was a line in front of them as people moved in and out of the richer district of the capital. Slowly, they made their way forward, as the knights guarding the gate nodded curtly to townsfolk and visitors. The trio finally passed the thick wooden gates, and yet again, the air seemed slightly lighter, and the smell slightly fresher. Here in the rich district where the nobles kept their homes, the houses were largely made of stone, and to Millicent, they seemed incredibly large and imposing. The cobblestone street was wide and comparably clean. The noblemen and women who walked the streets, or rode on their horses were beautifully decked out in vibrant colours accented in shining metallic threads of gold, silver or copper. Compared to the nobles, Millicent felt incredibly grungy and spartan in her green and yellow dress, but they paid no heed to the trio, accustomed to the perpetual coming and going of visitors and townsfolk.

The wide road leading to the castle was relatively straight, and though Millicent dreaded arriving at the place that was to be her cage, a part of her still longed for a real bed and a warm bath. There was a fairly large crowd of people heading towards the palace, which the servants knew were petitioners seeking the king's justice. Millicent simply eyed the large and diverse crowd with curiosity, but she asked no questions to the servants who were likely to ignore her, whether she spoke or not. Sadly for the petitioners, they were likely to be stuck in the capital for days, for the King had not yet returned from his hunt with his cohorts.

As the trio came up to the castle, they took a side road that diverted them from the waiting crowd, and came to a side door that was one of the servants' entrances. Millicent had not even realized that they had arrived at the castle, even as stable boys came up to take their horses. What appeared to be another massive grey wall turned out to be one side of the palace, and to Millicent, it was surprisingly austere and unimpressive.

Ever since she was a child, tales were told of castles with arching supports, stained glass windows, soaring turrets, and shimmering marble-like walls. The castle before here looked more like an enormous rectangular block, and the only things suggesting that it might be a castle were the crenellations along the walls. The stone was dark grey, smooth, and cold to the touch. It looked more like a fortress than a castle.

A/N: there might not be lemons for a while, but I'm really debating how dark to make the upcoming chapters. I'm thinking of adding a lot more characters, and some might be friendly, but I think most will be pretty hostile.... not to mention the king is a total misogynist. I guess we'll see... poor Millicent
- 8
- 9
- 10
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