Rumpelstiltskin - Part 1

[thorarosebird.livejournal.com]

This is a revisioning of the Grimm fairy tale, Rumpelstiltskin. It popped out of nowhere today and I ended up really enjoying writing it, so I thought I'd share. :) It's a new style for me, and a perspective I don't use often (1st) so any suggestions on how to make this better are greatly appreciated. If not, I hope you enjoy this just as a bit of fun!

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The winter I turned sixteen, my da gave me a silver filigree necklace that had belonged to my mother. I handled it with awe, tilting my hand so that it caught the sunlight shining through the rough window.

            “Let me see you try it on,” my da said, his eyes crinkled.

            My fingers were clumsy with the catch. I fumbled until I heard the neat click, and then pulled my hands away. It was far too long for me, the pendant dangling almost at my waist.

            Da sniffed. “You look so much like your mother.”

            “It’s not the kind of necklace I can wear, sir,” I said, scrutinising the chain’s handiwork.

            “You can hide it under your dress when you’re out,” he replied. I bundled it all down my front, smoothing the fabric out.

            The season was bitterly cold. Our little village was covered with swathes of snow that blocked everyone in their homes. The stream that pushed our mill wheel froze solid, so da and I had to work by hand, ignoring the idle machinery around us. My hands were cramped each day from threading the wool, my calves sore from pumping the pedal. At night we were forced to use up our lumber to feed the fireplace, pulling old and smelly sheepskins over us to keep warm. Our home was patchy and rundown, and there was always a hole here and a leak there. That winter was particularly draughty, and cruel.

            One morning, my da told me to venture out, down the path buried in fresh snow, to the lumber boy’s yard behind Missus Hilda’s farm for more firewood. I bundled up tight and warm with as many sheepskins as I could manage, and set off. I was wearing his thick, bull leather boots, which kept my toes toasty. I wandered into the main village, my feet falling knee-deep in snow, my teeth beginning to chatter. When I got to the lumber yard, there was no one there, not even shy-faced Sigberd or thick-browed Wilfrid. There was a pile of chopped lumber by the axe-shed, but I didn’t like the thought of taking it without asking.

            “Hullo?” I called out, circling round and round, feeling my lips and nose go numb. “Hullo, anyone here?”

            There was a rustle from the trees, just past the stumps that had been timbered. I watched through the falling snow, my face all scrunched up with the effort, until I saw a boy – or a man – stumble out of the shrubs with nothing but his breeches on.

            “Lass, help me!” he called out, and I knew him to be a man then because his voice was deep and strong.

            I hurried towards him. “What are you doing with nairy on you?” I said, taking off the top layer of my sheepskins and throwing it over his bare shoulders. “You’ll catch your death!”

            “I was robbed,” he whispered hoarsely.

            “Bandits?” I said, alarmed.

            “No lass, not bandits. Get me somewhere warm, will you?”

            I draped one of his arms across my shoulders awkwardly, afraid to touch him in his nakedness. “We’ve got a way to go, sir,” I said, but he was already lolling, lethargic, against me. I half-dragged him through the snow, terrified he might die on my shoulder. When we were close to home, my da came running out, bare-footed and wary.

            “What’s the meaning of this?” Da said, taking the man off of me and draping more sheepskins of his own around him.

            “He was robbed, sir. There weren’t no lumber boys out; he was in the yard and he looked half dead, sir. I’m sorry if I done wrong.”

            “You ought to have sent for someone to help you, instead of dragging a naked man all the way back here by yourself!”

            By now we’d passed the threshold, and da was laying the man out next to our small fire. I threw off my layers and wrapped the strange man in them while da heated some milk in a pan. I slapped the man’s cheek gently with my hand to bring him round. His eyes flickered open and he looked at me drunkenly, but his lips were still blue and there wasn’t any colour in his face. “Can you hear me?” I asked. “I brought you home, like you said.”

            “You have my thanks,” the man whispered.

            Da came to him with a cup of warm milk and told him to drink. The man did.

            “What’s your name, sir?” I asked in between his sipping.

            “I am called Aldwulf, though that is not my birth-name and you might be wise to forget you ever heard it.”

            “Why is that?” Da said, sternly.

            “Lord Eanfrid was my master before now, but I was chased from his homestead when he suspected me of stealing. I fear he chases me, even now.”

            “Lord Eanfrid? That greedy, leeching, arse?” My da looked at me and shook his head. “It’s not becoming of my daughter to hear such things. Go and spin the wool and I will tend to him.”

            I was an obedient daughter, so I left the men to talk. My father never liked me hearing about politics or other masculine things. He said I was to stay away from the lumber boys and their coarse talk, and that I should tend to our goats and spin wool instead, day after day, for those – he said – were skills a goodwife should have. I sat at the wheel and worked the pedal for several hours until my da came to tell me that it was time for supper. As I ladled out our broth and passed the bowls to da and Aldwulf, I could feel a charge in the air.

            “Will I need to lay out another bed for our guest, sir?” I asked my father.

            He gave me a sharp look. “Aye, Aldwulf will be staying with us. I ain’t sending him out in that weather.”

            I dutifully set out a place for him to sleep after supper, and he helped me stretch out a small sheepskin. “I’m sorry we ain’t got one bigger for you,” I said.

            “This will do just fine, lass. I’ve slept on harsher floors than this. I’m sorry I’ve outed your bed space,” he said, and it was true; my bed had been moved further from the fire so that Aldwulf could stay warm. It was unseemly enough that we’d be sharing a room.

            “You have more need of the fire, sir.”

            “Ah, but to push your hostess from her roost is a dishonourable thing! If only I knew her name, I might pray her forgiveness.” He smiled at me, and I felt my whole body go cold.         “You’re making fun of me with your fancy talk,” I snorted.

            “I wouldn’t make fun!”

            We looked at each other awkwardly. His eyebrows were raised, expecting my name. “It would be for my da to tell you,” I said.

            “Can a lass not speak for herself?” Aldwulf asked. I frowned; his society was different from mine. The higher-up ladies at court, or the wives of Lords could do well with their independence. Dolts like me had to be led, doe-eyed, by their fathers and uncles into the arms of a husband and a rumpled marriage bed.

            “My name is Alfgifu, but mind you don’t say it round my da,” I whispered, shocked at my own nerve.

            “Ah, and now I can sleep in peace, knowing the name of my gentle hostess!”

            “Hush,” I chastened him, but with a guilty smile. I could see da’s face swimming in my mind, flushed at my insubordination.

            Weeks passed, the snow never letting up. We lived in close quarters, my da keeping a firm eye on Aldwulf as if he were a rogue wolf. But he had nothing to fear, for our guest was as comely and gentle-handed as could be, both modest and grateful for us taking him in. It was clear that he was of a high-brow sort, from the way he stood, moved and spoke. I found it fascinating to watch the way words formed themselves on his lips. His O’s and E’s were nicely rounded, and his eyes – a rich, ruddy brown – were always watchful, assertive, yet welcoming. He helped me spin wool and churn our butter, and did it much better than me with his strong arms and able hands. I told him so one day, marvelling at how easily he worked.

            “You churn better than a goodwife,” I giggled, inwardly mortified by my own girlishness.

            “It’s a skill won by a lifetime of heavy sword work,” he said, holding out a hand for me. It was covered with chilblains, and the palms had hardened.

            “You’re hands are cut!” I exclaimed, seeing that the work had split his skin. “I should fetch a bowl of warm water for you, and you can soak them. I’ll churn the butter from now on!”

            I fussed over him, putting his hands into the bowl and holding them down. He winced.

            “Did that hurt, sir?”

            “A little. It’s nothing I can’t handle, Alfgifu.”

            I gasped and looked around, but da wasn’t in the room. I could hear him pottering around upstairs.

            “Don’t be so scared,” he said.

            I shivered. “My da would be mighty furious with me if he knew I told you, sir. I’m an obedient daughter.”

            “I wish you’d call me by my name,” Aldwulf said.

            “That would be unseemly! Improper!”

            “But still...”

            We both became aware that I was still holding his hands in the water, although that hadn’t been necessary for some time. We looked at them, entwined in the bowl. I made to snatch away but he caught me by my fingertips, as gentle as a net trapping a butterfly.

            “Alfgifu,” he said. I couldn’t hear him over the banging of my heart. My eyes flicked to the doorway, petrified at the thought of da walking in, seeing his hands clasped round mine. I glanced back to Aldwulf, and his eyes were searching my face, calm as ever. His gaze roved over my cheeks, my fly-away hair, and finally my mouth, where it lingered. I grew hot on my neck and cheeks, and he must have seen me flush because he smiled and drew his eyes away. “Forgive me,” he muttered. “I forget that you’re just a child. I’ve slept an arm’s length away from you ever since I came here, and sometimes I see you look at my mouth when I speak - forgive me, I have such thoughts - but you’re just a child.”

            “I’m sixteen, that’s not so young,” I frowned. My hands drew away from their embrace and found their own way to his face. I cupped his jaw as gently as I could and looked at the fine line of his chin, and the way his lip curved like a cherub’s. Our mouths met awkwardly; I was naive and had no understanding of the flush on my skin or the heat in my belly. My da had kept me away from the girls in the village, and their talk of dirty fondlings with the lumber boys, of secret trysts in the woods. Aldwulf’s hands curled in my hair, creeping down to the rise of my breast, but I pulled away then, afraid.

            “Did I kiss too hard?”

            “No,” I gasped, my breath completely spent. “No, it’s not right for you to kiss me at all! You are a guest, and sure to leave as soon as winter lifts and the roads clear. You are a rogue, preying on young girls like me and then moving on when you’ve had your way! I know of men like you!”

            “Gifu!” he exclaimed. “Do not accuse me like this! Is that what you think of me?”

            I held my head down and did not reply.

            “Well, than perhaps there is a way for you to believe my sincerity?” he said. On his right hand were two rings, one on his middle finger and one on his smallest finger. He removed the smallest one. “Will you wear this as a token of your trust, and my faithfulness?”

            “You will go that far to get me all rumpled?” I squawked, leaping to my feet.

            “This isn’t to prey on your naivety, Gifu! These are hard days for me! I have fled from my only home and when spring comes round, I will have to unburden your sire and find a way for myself, as far from my old master as possible, and if I can have you with me that might ease my heart a little. Perhaps this is too hasty, but time is against me!”

            “I cannot wear that ring before my da! It’s for him to decide my suitor; if he saw me wearing it, he’d say nay and you’ll get booted out, snow or no snow!”

            “Then put it on that chain of yours,” he said, nimbly pulling out the necklace.

            “How did you know about my necklace?” I asked.

            “Sometimes when you sleep it falls out from your dress,” he said, unclipping it and putting the ring on. It hung there like a talisman, beside the amulet. “You are mine and I am yours. Is it so, Gifu?”

            I thought of our kiss, and the promise of many more kisses; of the heat in my belly and the flush on my breast. “Yes, it is so.”

            Da did not notice our sly glances at one another, at how he bit his bottom lip when I smiled at him or how I coiled the chain round my finger like a ring when I was idle. He seemed elsewhere that season, troubled, and his conversation grew narrow. He didn’t see that we churned the butter together as often as we could get away with it, and when I had to make the trip to the lumber yard for more firewood he didn’t so much as blink when Aldwulf offered to escort me. We walked, tense as two rabbits, towards the yard. It was empty once again, but he went to the axe shed and started chopping wood as if it was his own.

            “That’s nearly stealing!” I hissed, bundling all the wood together with twine and loading my arms with as much as I could carry. The walk back was much quicker, surprisingly, but our tension caught up to us when we reached the tiny lumber shed just around the corner from the mill.

            I stacked the wood carefully, feeling his breath on the back of my neck. His hands came round my front and brushed over my breasts, teasing like he had done so many other times when da wasn’t looking. Now, though, his fingers were loosening the front of my dress, his kisses were on my neck and his free hand had hitched up my skirts to trail his fingers on the warm skin of my thigh. I didn’t push him away; I was as inflamed as he.

            In the end, our weeks of flirting, our shameless eyeing and gentle petting came to a peak that lasted only a few, clumsy minutes. Aldwulf slumped against me, shaking, while I held him. There was pain inside me, and an ache in my back at being pushed uncomfortably against the stacks of lumber.

            “I’m sorry, Gifu!” he said, backing away from me and pulling his breeches up. For the first time he looked at a loss, guilt marring his face. I couldn’t speak, only shift myself away from the stacks and put my hands to the soreness, whimpering.

            “It is my fault. I didn’t stop you. I acted like any common village girl.”

            “It is not the lass’ job to hold the reins,” he said, opening his arms to me. We stood there, embraced like limpets, until the crunch of snow jolted us back to our senses. He grabbed a stack of firewood and threw open the shed door while I straightened my skirts, pulled the sheepskins back on and ran my fingers through my mussed hair.

            “There you are! The room is starting to get cold, Aldwulf!” Da called.

            “Forgive me, sir! Your good daughter twisted her ankle on some loose stone and had to sit a while,” Aldwulf called back, lying easily. I sat myself down and stuck out my boot. Da came to the shed door and saw me.

            “Ah, you clumsy girl. Can you stand?”

            I feigned lameness, hoping Aldwulf would carry me home, but he was already halfway up the hill, so da carried me instead.                 

           

A month passed, and with the waning moon came the first sprogs of green to poke through the thinning snow. Every morning a little more of it appeared, until the ground was patchy and covered with slush. I glanced at Aldwulf every time I saw him, anxious for the moment when he would leave, and demand that I leave with him. I found myself dreading that moment, when da would find out our betrayal. I dreaded the regret of running away, and even more that I would be guilted into staying while Aldwulf went his own way.

            When I woke one morning, I knew the day was wrong. I could feel my muscles tense, my heart close to panicking, and I didn’t know why. But as Aldwulf, da and I breakfasted on stale bread and hard cheese, we heard the mushy sound of footsteps in the slush.

            Da went to the doorway and looked out. He grasped at his chest and turned to Aldwulf, who had drained of colour. “They are come, Aldwulf! They are come!”

            “Sir?” I said, but both of them drove me away, to the upstairs room where we all slept. I paced the room and eventually climbed the rickety ladder into the loft space. The roof was thatched here; I punched a hole in the straw and peeked out.

            There was a company of twenty men heading up the hill to my home, and my da had come out to meet them, poker in hand. But he looked like a runt with a stick compared to these soldiers. They had armour, shields and thick swords at their sides.

            “Get off my property!” Da shouted at them. The men halted except one, the tallest, who strode ever forward. When he spoke to my da, I could hear him clearly from where I was.

            “Miller, I am Lord Eanfrid, and I am come to search your home, if you would oblige.”

            “No, I ruddy well won’t! What business have you here?”

            “Miller,” Lord Eanfrid inclined his head, “I have reason to believe that you are harbouring a thief, who owes me much in the way of gold and jewels.”

            “And what makes you think that?”

            “A commoner in the village told us that he was seen being escorted up this hill by a young girl, one they call your daughter. You must step aside now, or I will have to arrest you.”

            “Go ahead, you lummox!”

            Lord Eanfrid’s gauntleted fist met da’s face with a horrible crack, sending him to the ground in a daze. He held up his hand and pointed to our mill. “Search it, men!”

            Suddenly, the whole building was shaking as the soldier’s stampeded into my home. I made myself as small as possible but inevitably they came up the rickety ladder and saw me in my lousy hiding place. They clasped their hands round my wrists and pulled me down the stairs and out into the daylight, where Aldwulf was already stood, flanked by four soldiers. I whimpered, cowering away from Eanfrid’s glare. He loomed over me like a giant, his eyes fathoms deep.

            “Sir,” I whined towards da, who was kneeling in the thin snow.

            “You lied to me, miller? How disappointing. You pay taxes to me - you ought to pay allegiance to me as well. I see it’s not so.” He nodded briskly to one of his men, who had a large axe at the ready. I realised then what his punishment would be.

            “No, Lord, sir! Please don’t kill my da, he didn’t know! He only took in a poor man from the snow and then set to defend his home and his honour like a gentleman would! You can’t punish him for that!”

            Eanfrid looked at me long and hard, taking in my wild face and my dark hair. His mouth split into a smile. “Your daughter is quite a beauty, although her wits are gone astray. She seems a dolt, and dolts always make dutiful wives.”

            My da risked a glance, his face flickering with hope. “W-wife?”

            “Would she be a good wife?”

            I looked in horror at my da’s face, feeling trapped in my body. I looked at Aldwulf and he looked back at me, his face etched with grief.

            “I’ve brought her up to be a good wife, I have. She can milk a goat, churn butter, shear a sheep and she’s a goddess on the spinning wheel. I’ll bet she can spin gold out of anything,” my da gabbled helplessly.

            “Gold?” Eanfrid said, his eyes gleaming at the word. “Your daughter can spin gold?”

            “Yes! Out of anything!” my da’s eyes rolled in his head, so enthused he was about the imminent proposal.

            “Well, then, she would make a richer bride than any duchess. I must have her, miller! What is her name?”

            “Alfgifu! Her name is Alfgifu!”

            “No, sir!” I said, suddenly exploding into noisy tears. I tried to struggle towards Aldwulf, but the soldiers held me tight. “Don’t make me marry, sir! I have already-”

            “Don’t be an idiot, daughter!” Da cut off my confession. He came towards me and roughly wiped the tears from my face as I bawled. “It is the best match we can hope for. You’ll be a Lady, daughter! Richest Lady in the country, and I’ll be a prosperous miller! Nothing could have worked out better for us!”

            I didn’t hear any of it, though. My eyes searched out Aldwulf but he was already being led away, his wrists manacled. Eanfrid came towards me and I saw him raise his arms to embrace me. I struggled against him, but was too weak to stop him crushing me to his armoured chest.

            “Miller,” I heard my fiancé’s voice rumble through his chest, “if you should prove to be lying, and if Alfgifu should be unable to spin pure gold from anything, you will both face my punishment. It will be a double execution.”

            “E-execution?” my da’s voice wavered; the extent of what he’d said dawned on him.

            “Come, Alfgifu, let us see if your gift is truth.” 

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thorarosebird