Rumplestiltskin

by Jenni James

  “Release me! I will not marry him! Release me!” she cried. “Why are you doing this, Rumple?”

  The men dragged her out of the room. When the door shut, Rumple stepped away from his brother a bit and Marcus asked, “What will you do now?”

  “Nothing. Stay here. Make sure you protect her and treat her well—act as her guard.”

  “You truthfully plan to attend the wedding? You are eager to watch her wed another?”

  “I cannot give her what you can. I cannot even give her a proper home. But you will—and you will treat her kindly as well, I will see to that.”

  “Aww, the poor little prince who is dead—what would it be like had you been on this throne now? Hmm? You could have wed her, could you not?”

  Rumple raised an eyebrow. “Are you really dim-witted enough to goad me into killing you?”

  “Ha!” Marcus flicked his wrist. “You honestly believe you have it in you to rule this kingdom all rumpled and stilted like that? Besides, if you were truly going to slay me you would have done so already.”

  “If you harm her, I will kill you. Mark my words.”

  Marcus sneered and then shook his head. “It is disgusting, you know.”

  “What?”

  “I am the king! I am the one with all the looks. I rule the land and own a remarkable castle—and yet you are the one who falls in love first.”

  He grinned. “It was destined to be, little brother.”

  “It is mind blogging is what it is.”

  “Perhaps.” He shrugged. “I am sure she will forgive me in time. Soon, she will barely remember me—as you all prefer to treat me.”

  Marcus shifted in the throne. “The only reason why we are having this little chat is because you hold the rapiers. Do not think you can act this way forever. You will not rule over us. You will not demand things and declare this or that. You will not think yourself better than us. You are nothing! Nothing!”

  The sword in Rumple’s right hand glowed even brighter blue than before and Marcus felt himself being lifted off of his seat.

  “What is this? What trickery are you playing at? Put me down at once!”

  “Do not forget who has the witchcraft in their possession and be grateful I am as forgiving as I am.”

  The king crashed down onto his throne. “Fine! I will do whatever you wish. I will keep her happy and coddled. My Brute! You can even have our first child if you are so inclined. Anything! Just stop doing that hovering nonsense.”

  Rumple tilted his head, eyes concentrating on a spot beyond the king’s chair. “I would love to have the child. I would love it more than anything. To raise a piece of her—and to truly have such happiness around me.” He shook his head. “But, no. I would not do that to her. She will need him much more than I.”

  The king lunged for the blue sword while his brother was distracted. Whipping it out of his hands, he crowed, “Ah-ha! I have captured the magic!”

  Rumple’s fist turned blue and the sword immediately found its place back within his hand. “You were saying?”

  “Go, now! Be gone with you!” whined the king. “I have things to do to prepare for the wedding tomorrow.”

  “Will you really be there tomorrow, or will you turn craven at the last possible second and flee?”

  “What?” he smirked. “To wed the only woman you have ever loved? I would not miss this for all the kingdom.”

  “Good. See that you are.”

  ***

  Rumple walked into his room and threw the swords on the floor at the foot of his bed. He collapsed, sitting on it, his hands immediately going to his face.

  What had he done?

  What had he done?

  His shoulders shook for several minutes as he wept.

  He loved her more than he had ever loved anyone before—and now he was giving her up to the most selfish of men. But what else could he have done? The second he left her side the king would have killed her. Marcus would have. He still was not wholly convinced she did not know who he was. And Marcus would not take the risk that she would not one day try and become queen. By putting her on the throne—it was the only way to truly save her life. To guarantee his brother would not poison her or something worse.

  How he hated himself. How she must hate him!

  He lay down on the bed, staring up at the stark ceiling. His life will forever be like this now. Dark, cold, barren. He closed his eyes.

  How he loved her! How he wished in a million ways things could be different, but he simply could not see a way out of it. He could not.

  He would show his face tomorrow. He would wear his finest clothing and stand back with the servants and watch the beautiful girl walk down the aisle and pledge herself to his brother.

  And then his world would truly end.

  But she would live—and to have her live was worth it all.

  Was it not?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  AUBRYNN PACED WITHIN HER chamber—the finely decorated room with its purple silks and cream-colored linen did nothing to satisfy her broken and most distraught heart. How dare Rumplestiltskin do this to her. How dare he react this way—and tell her—nay, force her to marry the king. King Marcus deserved to be fed to the crocodiles of the wildest of kingdoms. That man was a complete useless muddle. What woman in her right mind would even look twice at such revulsion? He was hideous! Monstrous! Evil!

  Urgh!

  She spun on her heel and grabbed the first of the many lavish pillows she could find. Holding it to her mouth, she shouted and screamed great frustrations into it for several minutes. Eventually her shouts turned into sobs as she fell onto her rear end near the bed—the pillow still hiding her face.

  Why? Why would he do this to her?

  Did he not love her?

  Did he not care for her at all?

  Was this a polite way of detaching himself from an overly excited girl?

  She was so mortified. So very tormented. So torn and lost and scared.

  She was scared.

  She was more scared now than when she felt her father or she would die that first night. Now she knew she would live—and forever be miserable.

  Oh, how she hated Rumple at this moment! How she despised him for being so, so, so—Urgh!

  In a swirl of skirts and anger, Aubrynn stood up and began pacing again. She needed to see him, she needed to speak to him and let him see reason. Or know for herself that indeed he did not love her.

  She could not—she would not marry such a man as King Marcus. She would not.

  Folding her arms, she looked blindly about the room. It was most likely one of the most beautiful rooms she had ever seen, but she did not care.

  Inhaling sharply, she turned her head and stared at the tall, intricately carved dresser, then closed her eyes. Be calm. Think. There had to be something she could do—but what?

  Her eyes fluttered open, her mind anywhere than on the small blue stone she was looking right at, but not seeing. In fact, it was quite a few moments before she recognized and noticed the rock at all.

  When she did, she gasped and quickly walked over and picked it up. Clutching her fist tightly around the stone, she began to think of Rumple.

  “Take me to his room, please. I must speak with him.”

  Her hand began to glow that same eerie blue and then—flash—she was gone.

  Whizzing through the intense tunnel of light, she arrived inside the room within seconds.

  It was dark, so it took some time to catch her bearings. She could hear him muttering something, but she was not listening to what he was saying. Her hand reached out and touched the stone wall—she must be near the door—and he must be lying upon his bed. Just as she was about to announce her presence she heard—

  “But, I had to! I had to tell him to marry her, or Marcus would have killed her. I know he would have. And then what would I have done without her?” No matter how many times Rumple repeated the same words over and over again, they did not make any of this ea
sier—nor was his heart any better than before. It hurt. Everything hurt!

  He looked up at the ceiling. “Why did I have to be born into this family? This horrid awful family! Why must my brother rule so cruelly and be such an evil wicked man?”

  He yanked his hands through his hair causing it to go every which way. “I am glad they do not see me anymore. I am glad I do not have that name! I would never want to be associated with such people ever again. If I were still whole and Frederico, not thought to be dead, then perhaps now, after I have learned this horrible lesson, perhaps now I would be a good king and bring this kingdom the peace it deserves. But now—now it is all ruined. The only hope they will ever have is the goodness of Aubrynn’s heart. She—she will give them something—she would help them. At least I could see to that. At least I could guarantee my brother did not restrict her there—but, oh, what torture to witness her wed to him. What awful twist of fate is this? What—?”

  Aubrynn did not need to hear more. Her hands shook as they began to glow brightly within them. With as much speed as possible she willed herself out of his room and back to hers. Once there, she walked over to the nearest armchair and collapsed upon it—her legs too shaky to support her another moment.

  Rumplestiltskin was the dead prince!

  No wonder he would never tell her his name.

  Frederico, the poor boy!

  She gasped. It was the royal family who cast him aside and announced to the kingdom he was dead. My word! Every year since, all the kingdom had come up here and pretended to care—pretended to care for the dead selfish boy and his ruthless family.

  She rested her elbow upon the arm of the chair and held her mouth with her hand. The bright purple and cream and gold colors upon the carpet at her feet swam before her as tears filled her eyes. Their muted shapes dipping and swirling to create a dull grey as she imagined the terror he must have faced. To go from a bright, pampered prince—the heir no less!—to being treated as garbage, filth and waste just because he was crippled. It was not fair.

  How did he manage? How did the small boy cope?

  Wiping at her tears, she sat there for some time going over each and every moment she had spent with him these last few days. Her heart soared at the goodness and love she recognized in him. She would have never known he was from the same family had she not overheard him—but he was.

  She sat up. He was not just from this family. Frederico was the true king.

  Blinking several moments, she allowed that fact to sink in.

  It explained so very much. Why Rumple feared for her death—knowing his proper name meant she would become an easy target. The king would have to kill her to keep his secret.

  The animal.

  The cruelty.

  She shook her head and stood up from the chair. For the first time she was eager to face them both tomorrow. A servant had said the king had a gown made for her, after the original night she had spun straw into gold, and it was hanging in her closet now. Slowly, Aubrynn walked toward the closet—opening the door, she smiled.

  Her hand touched the delicate fabric of the gown. It was remarkably exquisite. With a small sigh, she pulled it out. She would wed a king tomorrow—gladly wed him! But it would not be the one they were expecting.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  THE NEXT MORNING BROUGHT a bustle of maids and servants lighting her fire, carrying in breakfast, adorning her hair, helping her dress and causing all sorts of fluttering within Aubrynn’s chest. Everyone was saying how the whole kingdom was abuzz with the news she would be marrying their king. They were all thrilled he chose her and had been waiting in anticipation for the announcement of their wedding.

  The ceremony would be at noon. It was nine and already her father had come, dressed to the hilt, to slap her on the back and announce how immensely pleased he was.

  “My heavens! I knew you had it in ya to turn that straw into gold—I just knew it. And I knew you would find a way to truly capture that king’s heart as well. Well done, you!” He chuckled, quite pleased with himself. “Though I did not think there for a bit you had succeeded. Yeesh! Gave me quite a fright to be hauled about into the dungeons like that! It hurt.” He grunted and then smiled again, nodding his head and saying, “Yes. My daughter will be queen! Brilliant! Just brilliant!”

  “Thank you.” Even she did not have it in her to correct or scold her father. He was alive. He may not be any smarter than he was before, but he was certainly still here—and that was a blessing indeed.

  By the time he had left and finished with his boasting and going on about the greatness of their family, it was nearly eleven. Aubrynn took a deep breath and ran her hands over the striking gown. She stood in front of the looking glass and grinned back at the woman before her. The cream color brought out her complexion and her hair shimmered in the daylight. She felt very pretty.

  A maid came into the room then and curtsied. “Milady.” She pulled out a single white rose in full bloom with a matching ribbon and a note fastened to it. “I was asked to give this to you.”

  “Why, thank you.” Aubrynn took the rose and asked, “Do you know who sent it?”

  “No, Milady.”

  After the girl left, Aubrynn unraveled the ribbon and pulled the note off. Her heart warmed as she read the words:

  Aubrynn,

  I hope you can forgive me. I will love you forever, but I know this is for the best.

  I give you both my felicitations.

  Love,

  Rumple

  She held the note close to her chest and smelled the flower. Oh, how wonderful a change a day makes. She simply could not wait to get married now!

  * * *

  Rumple held his breath as she came into the throne room and began to walk down the created walkway toward his brother. How glorious she looked! How perfectly wonderful. He had never seen her appear so fine before—she simply glowed. He attempted to stand a bit taller to catch her eye, but she did not glance his way.

  She must be so very upset with him.

  But she did not seem upset—in fact, she was clearly smiling.

  The room hushed as she neared, every one of the villagers was excited and eager for this happy moment.

  By the time she had made it up to Marcus, even he was joyful. He must have loved the way she looked in all her finery. The minister began the service with a prayer as was custom. Marcus and Aubrynn bowed their heads and Rumple had to strain to hear all that was being said.

  Once the minister had begun the king’s part of the service, Rumple almost fled. No longer could he watch on impassively—no longer could he brave standing there a moment longer. And then they began Aubrynn’s part. He froze, watching her serene countenance as she stared at Marcus, how he wished it were him she was staring at.

  His stomach dropped and his heart stopped beating altogether when the minister turned to Aubrynn for confirmation. No!—he wanted to shout—Say, NO! But he did not. Instead he watched in horror as her mouth opened and she began to speak—

  Aubrynn took a deep cleansing breath, and while staring directly at the king, she spoke loudly and clearly for the whole room to hear, “I will marry the king—the true king is the man I love and it is him I pledge myself to at this time. It is he who is to be my husband, not this man.”

  “No!” Rumple rushed forward, the audience turning in shock, some shrieking in fright at the sight of his ugly bent form hastily staggering up the aisle.

  Aubrynn pointed right at him. “That is the man I love!”

  He kept walk-hobbling toward her. He must stop her now.

  The whole room erupted in a noisy roar and yet, Aubrynn remained louder still—

  “He is the true king! He is Frederico Baldrich Layton!”

  Rumple paused and crumbled to his knees about ten feet from her. She knows! She knows my name!

  Gasping as one, the congregation grew silent.

  “This man,” Aubrynn continued, now pointing to Marcus, “This man is an imposter. All these
years he has been lying to you. He knew his brother was still alive, and yet he played you all for fools. While his brother, Frederico, has been goodness divine—he has been kind, generous, and caring. He is the direct opposite of the man who rules you now. Frederico is the true king in heart. And though his body is not perfect, in my eyes he is. I love him.”

  In that instant, the whole room began to radiate bright blue. It was so bright many had to shield their eyes and hide their faces.

  The witch from all those years ago appeared before the assembly. Her twisted and haggard old body slowly began to transform—and within moments a strikingly stunning young woman with long raven black hair and green velvet stood before them. She announced clearly, in a voice like smooth honey:

  “Now that this royal family has learned their lesson, and the real king has found his true love because of his generous and kind heart, I shall remove the curse. It has been declared publically by this young woman—therefore, he shall no longer be enchanted.” She pointed one elegant finger at Rumple, “May I suggest, Frederico, that you guarantee your wicked brother be kept busy the remainder of his days?”

  When Rumple nodded, she grinned. “Good. Enjoy, my boy. Know that all is as it should be now. You are truly deserving of all you have, you have most definitely proven yourself worthy of such a fate. Farewell.” She turned toward the crowd, her arm extended out, “I present to you, your true king!”

  Before anyone could react, she waved her hands and mumbled incoherently, the room instantly turned a flash of brilliant blue once again.

  When it was over, the witch was gone and Frederico stood before them in perfect health.

  He was tall. He was handsome. He was free.

  Aubrynn’s jaw dropped. She could not react. She could not think. She was numb.

  The old queen, Rumple’s mother, was the very first person to speak at all. “Frederico, is it you?” she asked from the front of the room. “Have you truly come back to us?” She hurried forward, but Rumple did not see her. His stride walked strongly and purposefully up to Aubrynn. The woman he owed his whole life to.