This archived article was written by: Kiara Horowitz
Two doors at the end of the room burst open and in came the royalty. They were both in their nightwear, and someone should tell the king that a sword and a nightgown don’t complement each other. It just made him look sloppy. Captain and his men bowed. I didn’t, I’m of the same mind as Randolf. Basically, we didn’t hold anyone above us. It sounds prideful I know, but in truth who isn’t?
“You caught him,” the king said, clapping his hands together.
“This is Rumpelstiltskin, my Lord,” Captain informed. I studied his face carefully. It was unreadable. His eyes were steady and his jaw set.
“At last,” the king walked toward me. “A name to go with the face of the man who wishes to take my child.”
“In all respect,” I said, making sure I sounded old. “Her majesty and I have a deal.”
“You heartless fiend,” the king snarled. “I’ve never heard of anyone lower than you.”
That hurt, especially since I could name a few — Melanie for example. I glanced at the queen. She stood there, her arms wrapped around herself. She hadn’t changed much from the crying girl, locked in the dungeon with a spinning wheel, surrounded by straw. As I recall she’d been under penalty of death if she turned out to be a fraud. Of course, I couldn’t believe that they thought I would do a job without payment. I have to live too and I thought she was a Red Blood, before I found out she was a Blue Blooded pain.
“If your majesty remembers,” I said slowly. I hoped I could fix this mess. “I altered the deal. You get to keep the child if you guess my name. And if you get it, I go free.” I smiled, “You know who I am, so the child is yours and I leave.”
The king laughed. “Do think I’m a fool?” he said. I decided not to answer that. “I know I can’t trust the word of a fiend.”
“I’ve kept my promise thus far,” I raising my voice a little.
“You little man.” The king leaned closer to my level. I hated it when people did that. Being just under 5-foot tall isn’t bad until someone rubs it in. “You are going to rot in the dungeon, starving to death. Hanging is too good for you.” It could be worse, at least dungeons aren’t difficult to escape from. However, I didn’t need the Crowny here to know that, so I did my best to appear upset about it. “Take him down,” the king ordered.
“No!” I yelled, trying my best to struggle free, but the guards held me fast. They dragged me toward the door. “Queen,” I hoped that pleading would be convincing. “We had a deal.” She put a hand over her mouth and turned away.
I was dragged down what felt like an eternity of halls and stairs. Maybe they would take off the cuffs once they throw me in a cell. Then I would have to wait for my powers to return before escaping.
In the dungeons, the guards took me to a thick wooden door that swung on loud rusted hinges. It lead to a rectangular room separated into two squares by a line of bars. Looking through the bars I felt sick. The bars and the section of room behind them was coated with silver except for the floor which was stone. The guards took off the cuffs and opened the door to the half room. I dug my feet into the ground, no way am I going in there. I didn’t get a choice. With one hard push, I stumbled inside, hitting the wall and burning my shoulder. They locked the door and left, laughing their heads off.
I pulled off my jacket and tied it around my waist. The cell was like an oven and I needed to inspected the damage. My hands were covered with blood from my wrists and throbbing painfully. Under the blood I could make out blisters on my rose gold wrists. I carefully sat down on the floor and removed my boot. My sock was colored gold. I pulled it down a little. At least my ankle looked better. I stretched out my leg, it would be best to keep my weight off it.