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.
* * *
When a magical mishap leads to Rumpel...
Rumpelstiltskin groans. The sound muffled by the pile of pillows on the princess' bed.
She's bathed in the scent of rose and olives from the oils being rubbed into her skin by the gentle-handed masseuse. Nimble fists work out the knots in her back and pain in her legs. Small flashes of agony are soothed away with steady movements.
The maids hover nearby, concern etched into their features.
"Your Highness, perhaps it's time to retire for the evening," Wilhemina suggests, her tone the sharpest it's been since Rumpelstiltskin started playing princess pretend. A disapproving frown on her face.
Too exhausted to acknowledge the maid's disappointment. With a nod, Rumpelstiltskin allows them to drape the covers over her. The call of sleep weighs her down.
The curtains are drawn, and Irma deposits a teacup of water on the bedside table.
"Good night, Your Highness." The soft thud of the door follows the masseuse and maids' retreat.
Soothing silence blankets Rumpelstiltskin. A feeling of contentment and safety wraps her in an unfamiliar but welcome embrace.
It's a shame, this will all be over tomorrow.
Just as they begin to drift off, a soft glow draws Rumpelstiltskin's attention to the cup on the table. With a frown, she sits up, leaning over to peer into the water.
The liquid ripples, shining in the darkness.
Rumpelstiltskin's eyes widen as a face appears in the water.
Grey cracked skin, tousled sage hair, and a sharp-toothed grin.
It's Rosa.
A deep voice echoes in the ripples, Rumpelstiltskin's old voice.
"Rumpelstiltskin? Hello? Can you hear me?" The cat-eyed man giggles. "I can't believe this worked!"
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The next morning, Rumpelstiltskin wakes after the sun has risen, jolting awake to the sound of the curtains swishing and the warmth of a beam of sunlight hitting her directly in the face. She stretches, yawning widely, limbs weighed down by fatigue.
"Your Highness, it's time to wake up. Breakfast will be served shortly." It seems Irma was the first to arrive today.
Rumpelstiltskin mumbles something incoherent in response, burying her head further beneath the covers.
"My lady?" Irma sounds closer.
"Morning, Irma. I'm tired." Rumpelstiltskin rolls over, peeking out sleepily. "I would like breakfast, later. Please." She squints up at Irma, taking in the pitying expression on Irma's face with narrow eyes.
The green-eyed maid sighs. "Very well, Miss Rosa." She retreats to the window, pulling the curtains half-closed. "Rest well."
Irma's footsteps retreat, followed by the sound of her urging a newly arrived Wilhemina back out the main door.
