by Jenni James
He must be an angel. Something divine and not quite real, for who else would have thought of her first before their own needs? She knew her own father would have never done such a thing. Frankly, she had never known of a man who was as undoubtedly gentle and genuine as this Rumplestiltskin seemed to be. He could have very easily come after he had some supper of his own, but he did not—waiting first to see if she needed something.
Her heart warmed. She folded her arms and stepped away from the fire, her eyes taking in the stark room. What would she have done without him? Looking upon the spindle, she walked over to the old instrument and sat down where he had been. Could he truly turn straw into gold? Her gaze fell to the odd piece of straw at her feet. Half gold, half straw.
Oh, my word. He has done it!
Quickly she fetched the thing up and twirled it about in her fingers, trying desperately to remember what he had said about attempting to create this article before she kissed him. Something about it being many tries before he was able to…perhaps.
She looked up, her eyes focusing in on nothing particular across the room. How long had he been attempting the impossible? How long had he sat here in this room trying to achieve her feat for her? Who would do such a thing? Who would work for hours helping someone else—involving themselves with someone else’s deeds and finding a solution for them? Who would concern themselves over such things?
After a minute of silence, it dawned on her.
Me. She sat straighter upon the small stool. Me. I would. But, was there really someone else out there who loved as I did? Who cared about people and life and who risked their own to help someone else? Someone besides me?
Her heart began to glow. Quite perfectly and happily within its chest—it glowed and beat and lived and breathed and all of everything good.
Who was this man? Who was he honestly?
She knew he wished her to think of him as rumpled and stilted, but how could she? Yes, he was crippled—distinctively so. And his features were distorted to a point, but not too badly. Were they? He was not quite so ugly as to not be considered beautiful. He sincerely was beautiful. His smile, his wit, his friendliness and ease, his laughter—they all exuded such beauty. How could one look at him and not think him wonderful?
She had only known him a few hours, but he was perchance the greatest friend and ally she had ever made.
He was an angel. She knew it. He had to have been. So perfect and divine and—and well, perfect.
Needing to do something, Aubrynn stood up and set the golden straw upon the seat and then looked around the room. Seeing an old broom leaning against the wall near the bed, she collected the thing and began to sweep up the bits of fallen hay. Clearing the floor and tidying up the room allowed her to feel productive. He had said they would be spinning the straw as soon as they had eaten, so she took it upon herself to collect a pile and set it closest to the spindle which would allow the work to go faster. Unsure of exactly what she would be expected to do, she wanted him to know she would help him as best she could and be of any assistance he needed.
Soon after another small sweep of the newly fallen hay, Rumple walked in the hidden doorway. His arms were bundled full of goodies. She quickly set the broom against the wall and helped him into the room.
“How did you carry this all up those stairs?” she asked, glancing down at his hobbled foot.
He smirked boyishly. “I have magical powers, remember?”
Aubrynn rolled her eyes as she removed one of the heavy loads. “Does this magic power include lightening bundles?”
“Actually, it does.”
“Oh.” She was surprised. “Well, that must be helpful.”
He grunted as he set the rest of the load upon the ground. “You have no idea, especially on days like this.” Lowering himself to the floor, he gingerly moved his leg out of the way. “So we are in luck, my fair maiden.”
“We are?” She was quick to join him, settling her skirts upon the newly swept ground.
“Yes. It seems the kitchen staff was anticipating your meal, so there were even extra things lying about for you.”
She smiled as he unwrapped and removed a few peeled boiled eggs, two different cheeses, muffins, some cold ham, a large chunk of bread, two apples, a peach, dried nuts, and several tarts. “My goodness! This is a meal fit for a king! How will we be able to eat half this much food?”
He grinned and bit into a boiled egg. “That is the beauty of it. We do not have to eat this all—now we have something to break our fast too.”
His grey-blue eyes danced in the firelight as he chewed, quite proud of himself. Aubrynn did not hesitate to slice some cheese with a small knife he had revealed and began to nibble upon it. As the delicious cheese made its way down her throat she realized how completely famished she was.
“You are an angel!” she exclaimed as she bit into a chunk of newly broken bread—her hand quickly finding an apple. “How did you know I would be this hungry? I did not even know I was this hungry.”
He shrugged his shoulders and then answered around a mouthful of ham, “Just an inkling I had.”
“You will, mayhap, forget my manners for a moment as I catch up to my appetite?” She grinned her own mouth full of apple.
“Of course!” He chuckled. “As you can see, my savageness has come out as well. So let us be merry beasts together.”
Gratefully, Aubrynn tucked in quite a bit more than she believed she would be able to. However, with a fully happy tummy she was more than willing to get to work and spin gold. Rumple dusted off his hands and began to help her fold everything away for later. Once it was all stored nicely upon her bed, he went and sat down at the spindle again, removing the golden straw from the seat first.
“This is a bit troublesome on my own, so I am hoping with you up, you could help feed the straw into the spindle itself. See? Like this.” He picked up a few pieces of hay from the pile she had next to the stool and began to spin the large wheel. She watched the way he held the straw in place on the string, feeding it slowly into the needle.
“Is that all there is to it, then?” she asked. “Just threading it into the needle?”
“Not quite.” He spun the wheel a final push and the straw wove through, but came out looking the exact same way it had before. She tried to catch it before it fluttered to the floor, but to no avail.
“So what is the trick?”
“Magic. I have to do the magic with this little thing or nothing will happen.” He pulled out the beautiful blue and black striped rock. “However, I will need help spinning and working the straw into the spindle, since I must hold onto my stone and concentrate somehow to create the gold.”
“So that is your secret, a little rock.”
“Yes.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Now you know everything.”
“Not quite.”
“Close enough. At least you know the most important parts. Well, are you ready to spin some straw into gold?”
“Yes!”
CHAPTER TEN
IT TOOK SEVERAL TRIES with both of them working together to eventually settle upon a system that would wholly spin the straw into gold. Aubrynn noticed quite early on he was right. As long as he did the spinning of the wheel and she fed the straw in, the magic would work. He had to be concentrating on the actual spinning for it to transform the straw into gold. So, she would feed the straw on the string as he continuously spun the wheel.
Once they became used to the task and got a bit quicker, they soon saw that the gold would come out in long strands and curl itself upon the floor, before hardening into the curled shape. It was still a very complicated task, one Rumple, especially, would have to concentrate extremely well to attain the transformation. Never before had he worked so hard for so many hours in a row to achieve the same outcome over and over again. It was tedious and difficult and worth every single smile Aubrynn would give him as their momentous miracle and chore began to truly transform the room.
Every half an ho
ur or so, Rumple would stop to stretch his limbs, and using the magic stone he would lift the heavy gold off the floor and stack it in new piles where the hay had been against the wall.
One of the remarkable effects they noticed was that it would take approximately three or four pieces of straw to form the same size of gold. So the piece that he had initially made, they soon figured must have been at least four sizes as long on the gold end as it was now. It did not matter, since it allowed them more room to walk about the place as they continued to alter the large piles of hay into smaller stacks of gold.
By sunrise their unattainable task was nearly attainable. Both Rumple and Aubrynn had formed blisters upon their fingers—hers more so, due to the direct contact her knuckles and thumb had with the string, but his palm was quite worn with its consistent pushing of the wheel. They were cramped, emotionally and physically exhausted, but amazed at all they had accomplished. There was just one smallish sized pile of straw left. Approximately to the size of Aubrynn’s knees in height and the same in width—but she was simply too fatigued to even attempt getting it.
“Do you think the king will notice that little pile of hay when all the rest of the gold is gleaming before him?” she asked as she plopped down upon the floor once she had fed in the last of this collection of straw into the needle. Her back ached from leaning over the spindle for all those hours.
“Aubrynn, are you well? Do you need to sit here, on the seat?” Rumple made to move, but as he stood his right leg gave out on him. In a flash he tumbled down—sprawled crookedly facedown upon the floor next to her bed.
“Rumple!” She scrambled to her feet and knelt down beside him. “Are you hurt?”
He groaned in response and slowly flipped himself over. “Mayhap. I will let you know later.”
She half attempted to chuckle as she looked down at the wonderful man below her. “What happened? You were standing one moment and the next—”
“And the next I was slumped upon the floor looking the fool in front of a charming maiden.”
“You are not a fool! My goodness, who does not stumble every now and then? We all do.”
“Yes, well. Me more than most, I am certain.” He attempted a grin.
Her eyes caught his; there was great pain within their depths. “Rumple, are you hurt? The fall must have damaged something. Your knee perhaps? Your ankle?”
He shook his head, those eyes regaining their sparkle. “Look at you! The mother hen, clucking about in great anxiety.”
She gasped. “I am not a mother hen and I do not cluck.” Tucking her feet further under her, she moved closer, her arm going across his chest. “Though I do worry about you. Are you sure you are fine?”
“I will be shortly, as long as you stay next to me a few minutes more.”
She looked up to the rafters before grinning down at him. “You are incorrigible. And you will not tell me what is wrong, will you?”
“Most likely not.”
She worried her lip—her teeth tugging and pulling on it. “Why ever not? Should not someone know what ails you so they can be of assistance?”
“Do you know how beautiful you are?”
“No.” She blushed. “And it will not do to change the subject.”
“Why not?”
“Because you are in pain, that is why! And we simply do not need to be discussing my looks with you sprawled about on the floor in agony.”
“But what if those looks dim the agony a bit and make me remember only how glorious it is to get to know such a maiden as you? Then is it proper to speak of her beauty?”
“Rumplestiltskin!”
“Yes, Mother Hen?”
She groaned and giggled and lied right down upon his chest. “You are hopeless.”
He reached down and ran his hand through her long, soft, dark hair. And then said quietly, “So I have been told many times.”
“Hmm…” she muttered into his warm frame. His fingers causing ripples of explosions through her whole back at his touch. “I could fall asleep right here, this instant.”
Though his back ached greatly from the extra pressure she caused, he could not think of anything more dear to him in all the world than a few minutes more spent with her sleeping upon his chest. “It was exhausting, but we did it.”
She tilted her face to the side, loving the gentle feel of his hand. “You did it.”
“We both did.”
“Yes, but without you I would have—I would have…what would I have done without you?”
“Shh…” he whispered. “I was here. I would not have left you alone, anyway. I would have always come.”
She turned and pressed a kiss upon his stiff shirt. “Thank you.”
“You are most welcome.” He sighed. His chest heaving up and carrying Aubrynn as he did so. “However, there is one small problem in all of this.”
“And what is that?”
“The king will be back any moment and he cannot find me here.”
“Oh! You are right!” Aubrynn went to pull away, but his crooked fingers caught her and held her against him.
“Just a bit longer, please?”
She snuggled back down. “I am not hurting you, am I?”
“No,” he lied. “Just give me a few seconds longer of humanity, before I have to face the world again.”
She grinned against his shirt. “Is that all you need then? I can definitely provide that.”
“Well, some humanity and maybe a kiss too.”
“What?”
“Yes, I think I most definitely need a kiss.”
“Rumple!” She came up enough to see his mischievous eyes.
“What?” He blinked. “A man can dream, can he not?”
She flushed bright red. “Of course, he can. Though I probably could give you a small token of my affection for all you have done for me.” Goodness! What was she saying? She went even more red.
Rumple laughed. “Come here, you.” He pulled her right up his chest to about an inch or so from his very handsome lips. “Can I kiss you, my fair maiden? Just once more?”
All at once Aubrynn had forgotten how to breathe or speak. “I, uh—” she croaked out. Clearing her throat she tried again. “Uh, yes. Yes, you may.”
In a sudden burst of seriousness, Rumple’s smile dropped. His gaze taking in every millimeter of the amazing woman before him. She was truly beyond anything he could have ever imagined. Slowly, his hands wound themselves up to her neck and head and then carefully, as if she were the most delicate china, he brought her mouth to his.
Aubrynn sighed as his soft lips caressed her mouth, her lashes fluttering shut. Nothing had ever seemed so perfect before. His lips tugged and pulled and searched hers until she thought she would melt, sending a series of exciting sparkles throughout her whole form.
It was by far the most deliciously wonderful thing she had ever done.
And she never, ever wanted to stop.
“Aubrynn Sloat!” the voice bellowed beyond the door. “It is I, the king. Do I have permission to enter and see if you have achieved all that your father promised me you would? Am I a rich man soon to have a bride? Or will your father be hanged?”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
RUMPLE PULLED AWAY FROM her and then quickly came in for another swift kiss as she was attempting to scramble to her feet. “I do not wish to stop,” he murmured into her mouth.
“Nor I,” she whispered back.
“Do you think he will go away if we are silent?”
She grinned. “You are completely impossible.”
He kissed her cheek and then let her go, his eyes dancing before her. “Yes, I know.”
The king pounded on the door this time. “Awake maiden and speak to me or I will burst through this door.”
“I am up, Your Majesty. A moment please to arrange myself,” she called out.
“And that would be my cue,” Rumple hissed. Holding his hand out, he allowed her to assist him to his feet. “Hand me the bundle of food and
I will hide it here in the passageway for you.”
She quickly did as he asked and fetched the striped stone too. The room was still a bit in shambles with straw littering the floor, but that could not be helped now. “Hurry, please. And be safe.”
There was a distinct limp that was not there before as he hobbled over to the hidden door.
“You are hurt!” she cried on a whisper as she followed him.
“Shh…I am fine. Just stiff.” He silently cracked the panel of stone a bit and looked into her worried face. Such a heart as she had, such a sweetness. His own heart beat wildly within his chest and he promptly kissed her once more. “Good luck.” He stepped through onto the stairs. Bouncing down a step or two he placed the bundle next to the door.
“Thank you,” she called as he closed her off into her own room again.
“Maiden!” The king was clearly an impatient man.
In her eagerness to allow the king in, Aubrynn did not have a moment to truly dread the prospect of him coming. Indeed, she was quite eager to show the miracle before her. She smiled. “You may come in now. I am ready.”
Immediately the large clanking lock clicked and King Marcus was in the room. His eyes frantically going around until he beheld the piles of gold. “You have done it!” he exclaimed in a hushed tone. “You, my dear, are simply wondrous!”
He walked over to the coiled piles and tried to lift one. It was simply too heavy without the magic stone. “My, they are real!” His hands caressed the gold lovingly, and he seemed a bit entranced by it all. “So beautiful. So perfect. So, so, so incredible!” He spun around and stared at the tired maiden before him. Sprigs of straw stuck out all over her. She looked worn and exhausted, but happy. Indeed she should be happy! She had just secured herself a king for a husband.
“Do you know what this means, my dear Aubrynn?” He came forward and clasped her hands within his, not noticing the wince in her eyes as the blisters rubbed. “It means you and I will have a very prosperous life together.”
