Rumplestiltskin (10 page)

His eyes were gone from her—staring up at the ceiling for moments and then gone completely from view as they rolled around while he stuttered and jittered about. It was quite positively the most frightening thing she had ever witnessed before. “Rumplestiltskin!” she hissed. “What can I do? Tell me, please! Come back to me!” She leaned over to capture his shuddering face between her palms. “What is it? Do not leave me now, whatever has happened, please do not leave me now!”

“Your time is up, Maiden!” barked the king. “I am coming in.”

Aubrynn’s eyes lighted upon the small striped stone that jiggled loose from Rumple’s pocket. There it is! The lock to the door clicked loudly again. Grasping the stone tight, she fell forward across his trembling form and, closing her eyes, wished with all her might.

“Take us away from here. Please take us to safety, small stone. Save him, please, please save him.”

The little rock began to glow near her face and Aubrynn slowly opened one eye to stare in amazement at its beauty. She had done it! It was working.

She heard the door swing wildly against the inner wall, before she felt the stale breeze hit them both.

Rumple’s chokes and gasps grew louder with each shake and spasm.

“Please, please take us to safety! Take us to safety now!”

“What in the world is he doing here?” bellowed the king.

Flash.

They were gone.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

AUBRYNN HELD ONTO HIM as they whizzed through an extensive tunnel of incredible long streams of lights and colors.  The motion of them zooming through the air almost covered his convulsions, almost.  They dipped down and she squeezed her eyes shut and felt the air shift as they collapsed onto something, while not hard, was not very soft either.  Whatever it was, she could feel it had a fabric covering.

Rumple continued to jolt and shake before her as she climbed off of him.  She could barely see a thing in the darkened space.  It was cold, and though there were muted sounds in the distance, she felt decidedly alone and very safe from the king.  Though not from Rumple’s terrifying ailments. 

What should she do?  Was he truly dying before her?  How could she help him?

She saw the stone glow again within her hand and then experienced an overwhelming sense of peace come over her.  As if it were trying to tell her that all would be well soon.

She took in a large deep breath of air and willed her heart to slow down.  The worst was over, he would be well.

When his gasps and chokes began to sound more like gurgles, she felt her hand up his quaking form and brushed aside the small foam of fluid that had begun to build around the corners of his mouth.  Tugging him to his side and allowing his face to fall forward, she reached around the area where they were and collected a small blanket.  Using it, she continuously wiped his face clean and held him as best she could within that position. 

“Rumple, can you hear me?” she asked him—her eyes slowly adjusting to the darkened room.  It was most definitely a room of some sort.  “Can you hear me, dear?”

He shook and quaked for a minute or two more before peacefully coming to a stop.

She held her breath, afraid to believe that it was over.  Placing the back of her hand near his nose, she felt his intake and outtake of breath.  Heaving a sigh of relief, she lied down next to him, her arm holding tightly to his.  When she followed the dark shadows of his neck and face, she was surprised to see him staring back at her.

“Well, hello there.  You are back.”  She smiled.

Rumple glanced over her face and pursed his lips together.

“How do you feel?” she asked. 

“Mortified.” His eyes closed as he muttered, “I am sorry.  I should have warned you I could go into such convulsions, but I did not think to do so.”

“You startled me.”

“I am positive I did do just that.”  He brought a hand up to her elbow and clasped it, their arms crossing over the other.  “Are you well?  And can you ever look at me the same again?”

“The same as what?”  She blinked, shaking her head slightly. “Yes, yes, I—I am fine, as long as you are.  I was so afraid you were dying there for a moment.”

“I know.  I heard you.”

“Oh, Rumple.” She scooted in a bit closer, her eyes making out his dark orbs and long lashes in the darkness. “Please do not leave me.”  She frowned, trying desperately to hold in her emotions.  “I was so afraid—so, so afraid I was losing you.”

“Now, do not, my dear.”  He came in closer to kiss the bridge of her perfect nose.  “I am well, as you can see.  It is something that happens from time to time, just a few minutes of quaking, but all is well.”

She sighed as his warm breath eased over her cheeks, sending a million sparkles skittering along her neck and back. 

His lips skimmed down and kissed the tip of her nose. “I am more worried you will never wish to have anything to do with me now.  Now that you have seen me as such.”

“Such as what?” She pulled back slightly to make out what she could of his features.

“Well, me at my worst, of course.”

“There are some moments when you speak of yourself that I am quite certain if you said one more word, I may throttle you.”

He slowly grinned, his dark eyes sparkling. “Has anyone ever told you how wonderful you are?  And how much you make a man wish he could be throttled by you?”

“Rumple, stop distracting me and listen.” She clutched his arm tighter.  “You are a crippled man, yes, but that does not mean you do not breathe and think and see and laugh and care the same as everyone else.  I do not regard what ailments are imprisoned within your shell, it is not who you are—it may be your trial, but you are not defined by this outer casing.  You are glorious.  You are magnificent. And I cannot—I simply cannot—lose you.  So will you kindly warn me if there are any more disorders I should be aware of, and how to properly attend to them when they do happen?”

“I love you.”

She gasped.  “What?  What did you say?”

He sat slowly up, his eyes going around the dark room, and then he smiled as if he knew the place.  Pulling her up to sitting position as well, he held one hand within his and leaned over and whispered near her ear, “I love you.”

Heat and goodness exploded down her neck and pinged to her shoulder. “Say it again,” she whispered.  She smiled when he inhaled sharply; loving the effect she had on him.

“I love you, Aubrynn Sloat.  I love you as a man loves a woman.”

Twisting around and tucking herself right into the crook of his chest and neck, she asked, “Why?  How is this possible?  How is such an angel ever to fall in love with me?  Me—of all people.”

“Because as I told you a few hours ago, while you were snoozing on my chest, I feel you are the one who should be exalted.  It is your goodness, your ability to see me when no one else does—you who are more precious than anything—it is you who I could not help but fall in love with.”

She closed her eyes, the smile plastered across her face as she processed all he was telling her.  “Rumple?”

“Hmm?” He wrapped his arm around her tighter.

“Do you think you will ever ask me to marry you?”

He balked.  His whole body went rigid.  “You wish me to ask you for your hand?”

“I—is that a bad thing?  Should I not wish or wonder what it would be like to be yours forever?”

His heart sped at a pace he had never known it to beat before.  “Aubrynn, do you have any idea what it is you are saying?  And to whom you are saying it to?”

She pulled back and looked him square in the eye.  “Rumplestiltskin, if this has something to do with the fact that you are a crippled man and I should not look at you in such a fashion, can I please throttle you now and be done with this whole mess?!”

He chuckled.  “Yes.  Do your worst.  I cannot believe what it is I am hearing.  Is that so hard to imagine, that I would be truly questioning—”

“Questioning my sanity.  I know!  And it vexes me to no end.”

“I love you.”

She pushed against his shoulder. “Do not try and distract me again with your great declarations.  I have not responded in kind, if you notice, and I may likely never will if you keep pestering me with your nonsense of never believing one like me could be enchanted by you.”

“So, you are saying you are enchanted by me?”

She opened her mouth, then closed it. “Possibly.” She rolled her eyes and nudged him with her shoulder this time, much softer. “Possibly, but, you already know this, or I would not be sitting now in this darkened place with you worrying if I will lose you.”  She looked around again trying to make out the murky shadows.  “Just where are we?”

“Do you not know?”

“How would I?”

“What did you think of when you worked my magic rock?  It is whatever place you were thinking of that it took you to,” he said, and then continued before she could answer, “Well done with that, I must say!  Truly genius the way you figured out the stone so quickly.  I was sure I would be lying there on that floor expiring away when the king walked in.”

“You were.”

“Yes, but you charmed us away before he could see me.”

“He did see you.  Did you not hear him?”

Rumple clasped her hand. “You are sure—quite positive—he saw me?  And recognized me?”

“I was positive at the time, yes.  I know he saw someone, but it would seem he definitely was familiar with you.”  She looked in his eyes.  “Why? Is there something else I do not realize besides the absolute notion that he did not know his servant was helping him.  Is there something else—something that is causing you to sit up as straight as that?”

“This is my room.”

“Your room?”  She shook her head.  “You do not get to distract me again.”

“I live in the cellar under the kitchen.”

She paused and stared at him.  “You do not have a bed in the servants’ quarters?”

“No.”

“You live here.  Under the kitchen?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I am hiding.”

“You are not a servant?”

“Not wholly, no.”

“Then who are you?”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

RUMPLED MOVED BACK AND got off the bed.  He hobbled over to collect his flint and then lit the oil lamps about in the room, one by one, until the whole place shone brightly.

Aubrynn smiled when she beheld the cozy chamber.  All full of vibrant reds, golds, blues and browns.  Even the tattered rugs had once been quite magnificent and were rather colorful.  Her eyes fell upon the richly woven fabrics encasing the landscape paintings.  “I love the imaginary windows!  What a clever idea.” 

“Yes.  I enjoy them as well.  Though, I cannot take credit for the scheme, one of the maids, when I was quite young, created them for me.”

“One of the maids?  She has helped you?”

“Yes, she essentially designed this whole room.  It is because of her I was able to stay here so long and remain unseen.  She completely cared for me as a mother would have.”

Aubrynn scooted off the bed and walked to his makeshift dresser.  It had a large fabric layer of some kind, perhaps an old scarf that covered the whole top of it.  Her hands lightly skimming the wooden toys he had neatly stacked upon the fabric.   “How old were you when you first came here?  You must have been very young.”

“I was five.”

She glanced over several different objects; miniature paintings, paperweights, shells, feathers, books, drawings, ornaments…all sorts of odds and ends, his treasures, all nicely displayed and cared for.  “Was that around the same time your accident happened?  The one that crippled you?”

“It was no accident.”

Her eyes flew to his across the room.  He was standing next to an old crate with a small silver tray upon it.  “What do you mean?  Someone did this to you?” 

“I was cursed, remember?”

She waited for him to say more, but when he did not, she walked toward him, her feet treading upon the worn carpet.  “Who are you?” she asked again.  “You were too young to have suddenly gone into hiding.  No mother would have just tossed you aside.  Who are you?”

He looked away, his eyes settling upon the brightly polished tray near his hand.  One finger slowly started to trace the thin etchings within it.  “You would be surprised at what a mother could do to a cursed child.”

Aubrynn touched his shoulder.  “But, Rumple, she did not—she did not really.  No mother would have…” 

He closed his eyes and looked further away from her.

She clenched her mouth and blinked back a few sudden tears.  Her hand started to caress his shoulder, she could hardly ask the words that she knew she must, “Rumple, were you truly cast aside when this happened to you?” She sniffed and blinked more tears.  “My dear, were they frightened of you?  And terrified of the curse?”

Blank dull grey eyes turned and met hers.  “It was worse.”

No.  She shook her head.  No.  “How could it be worse than that?  My dear, you were a small boy!  A young, frightened little boy, were you not?”

He pushed away from the crate and walked over to the bed. 

She followed, but stayed a pace from him.  “Rumple, how scary and horrid for you—how painful and alone you must have felt!  And now you say it was worse?  What could have made it worse than this?  To be cast aside to live alone at such a young, young age!”

“They announced my death.”

She froze.  “I beg your pardon?”

He leaned over and picked up a pillow, slamming it into the old wooden headboard.  “They told everyone I had died.”

“Your family threw you—a child of five years of age—out of their home and announced to everyone their son had died?”

“Essentially, yes.”

“And a sweet maid felt sorry for you and took you into the castle and raised you and cared for you as a mother would?”

He sat down, his hands rubbing his face briefly, wiping his own moisture from his eyes.  “Yes, Tilly—Tilly loved me.  I am so very, very blessed to have had such a brave soul in my life.  She was the only one who treated me as though I deserved to live, as if I were not a monster.”

Aubrynn’s heart soared.  Oh, how she would gladly love to wrap her arms around such a woman and thank her.  “Where is she?  Which one of the maids is she?”