Rumpelstiltskin -On hold...

Prologue

"Rumpelstiltskin... Rumpelstiltskin..." his mother called out.

Rumpelstiltskin, a boy in his early teenage years with eyes and hair as brown as the wood in a cold winter's fireplace just waiting to be lit up, lay in a bed of straws. His tanned skin as if kissed by the sun a clear contrast to the yellow of the dry grass. Inside the manor, his father was occupied in noting down the measurements for the Baron of the land; preparations to create an exquisite ballroom attire, for the glorified knight of the kingdom.

Although he was there to help his father, when he was told his assistance would not be required, he had instead made himself cosy in Sir Farias' barn. With nothing to do on a bright sunny day, the young lad had decided to spend the day lazing in the barn where he could not help but take an afternoon nap, enjoying the cool summer breeze from the mountains up north.

"Rumpelstiltskin..." she called out once more before talking to herself. "Where, in the Lord's name, has this boy gone?"

The boy, upon hearing his mother's call, got up from his comfortable padding and patted the hay off his clothes. He ran his hands through his hair to get some of the strands out before running up the hill to the small shack; which, by the grace of Sir Farias, was his home. When he reached the doorstep, panting heavily, his mother smiled and beckoned him to sit down at the table.

"Eat up my boy. You would require strength to assist your father," she said lovingly as she gave him a piece of bread and some stew.

"Mother, father told me he did not need me. I was just having a nap in the barn. Father needs this more than me. He does most of the work."

"And he shall have it as well. Once you finish eating, you should take some for your father like the good son that you are," his mother said tending to the fire.

"Aye," replied Rumpelstiltskin with his mouth full of bread.

"Now-now child, you should not speak with your mouth full. Where are your manners? You should carry yourself properly as well. You were given the grace of being able to stand under our Lord Sir Farias' roof after all. I hope you will not sully his favour."

The boy nodded in order to affirm his understanding. He was a good boy, very much obedient, and everybody loved him. While he ate, his mother poured some stew into a small earthen pot. She tied together some bread within leaves using made strings of hay. Then, she handed them to the boy.

"Now hurry along. You should not keep your father waiting," she said with a smile as she ruffled her son's hair with her hand. She also removed strands of hay he had missed and made tidy his mane. "Make sure you put forth your best in our Lord's presence."

"I shall mother."

And with that he was off again, running down the hill to the Baron's mansion.

"Hold your horses! Where are you off to in such hurry lad?" the guard asked at the gates.

"I only wish to give my father his meal sir," he replied.

"You are Hansdieter's lad, are you not?" the guard asked.

"Aye sir."

"Ah, in that case, convey this message of mine dear boy. I require that your father come to my quarters this evening and take my measurements. It seems as if my armour is in need of some adjustments since 'tis a tad tight."

"Certainly sir. Shall I take my leave?"

"Aye, run along little one," said the guard before shouting behind him "Tell him 'tis Sir Ronald's request."