A Princess longing to prove herself to be as brave as any prince, a sorcerer hired to save an ailing kingdom by spinning straw into gold, and a spinning wheel.
A fairytale unlike any you have heard before.
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When a magical mishap leads to Rumpel...
On a cold winter night, under a blackened sky, the babe was born. A grotesque child, with mossy hair and stone-touched skin. A son of the fae, born to the poor wife of a woodcutter.
The child's father lamented at his beastly appearance.
"You have born me a monster; if your faithfulness to me is to be believed!." In his rage, the boy's father denied any relation to the boy and took up a sharpened wooden post from the ground to kill the child. But the blade poised - to snap the fragile thread of the poor babe's life was dashed away, by the woman who bore him.
"Do not harm him!" his mother pleaded on his behalf. "If he is a child of the devil, killing him would bring the devil's curse on us."
His father, fearing the consequence of invoking the wrath of demon magic, relented at her pleas. "Alright, it can stay, only until it is old enough to fend for itself."
The father named the cursed boy, Rumpelstiltskin, which means "little rattle stilt", for the post that should have brought his death; his mother softened the continual insult by calling him "Rumple".
His mother did as her husband bade and hid Rumple away and raised him in the dark and dust of an attic. As he grew, his mother fashioned his clothes from cleaning rags and gave him a cloth veil to hide his yellow eyes. The boy remained in the attic while the sun graced the sky, only allowed to assist his mother in cooking dinner once the moon rose and darkness blanketed the house from anyone's gaze.
On the morn of his sixth birthday, the boy's father with great ceremony and unusual affection, gave him a wooden sword, carved from the rattle-post and his mother took him out to the woods to forage.
Rumpelstiltskin, feeling for once, loved, explored the world in wonder as his mother showed him how to identify edible plants, find dry wood after rain, and build a fire. When her basket was full, she led him far off the path, deeper into the woods. Then his mother gave him the basket full of foraged roots and the cloak off her back.
"Rumple, listen to me carefully" Rumple stared at her smiling, hoping for another gift. "Rumple, you have grown and you must find your own way now" she wept. "I'm sorry. Please, please, do not curse us."
At his mother's words, Rumpelstiltskin threw himself at her feet, pleading through tears for her to take him home.
His mother's tears fell on his face as she freed herself from his grasp and fled into the shade of the trees.
The night was falling, and in trying to follow the direction he was sure his mother had taken, little Rumpelstiltskin quickly became lost. Falling to his knees, the boy wailed and called out for his mother till his voice grew hoarse, his tears soaked the cloth over his face as he clutched the cloak about his shoulders.
Only silence and starlight returned his cries.
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On a warm summer's day, under the gentle light of dawn, a babe was born. A child with golden eyes and skin like silk. A blessed daughter, born to the Queen of the Rose Kingdom.
The child's parents rejoiced at her beautiful appearance and named her Rosa as a symbol of the kingdom she would one day rule.
"Today shall become a day of celebration for all time," exclaimed the King.
The queen proclaimed that she had a vision; that the princess' life was a gift, and the kingdom would flourish for as long as the princess was safe and well.
The Princess' Rosa's birthday became a national holiday, and the kingdom celebrated the new heir.
The princess was raised in shelter, safety and comfort, like a precious flower in a greenhouse. No stain or blade would sully her hands. With every passing year, the princess grew more beautiful, her hair like sunlight and her voice like honey. She was intelligent and graceful, the picture of a perfect royal.
One day, on the eve of the princess' fourteenth year, the princess fell ill with a fever and slipped into a slumber from which she did not awaken. Only a few days later, war came to the kingdom, bringing with it the bloodstained cloud of despair.
The king went to the battlefield and the queen hid their sleeping daughter away in a remote tower, far from the bloodshed and wept over her body, "Please, please Rosa, do not leave us!".
For three years, the war devastated the kingdom; soldiers brandished scarlet blades, the streets ran red with fire and blood, and the people despaired.
Just as the darkness threatened to swallow the Rose Kingdom whole, it was rumoured that the queen had visited a strange sorcerer and the princess awoke from her long slumber.
After waking, the golden princess sang on the balcony at the top of the tower, and her voice echoed throughout the kingdom. Her song even reached the battlefield, filling the soldier's hearts with hope and determination.
After a long and arduous fight, victory was declared and the king returned home bearing the scars of war. To welcome her father home, the princess sang a song of dreams and hope.
The waking of the princess was celebrated as ardently as the end of the war, and tales of 'the song that heralds victory' were told throughout the kingdom.
