Rumplestiltskin

NOT FINISHED YET. And really long. It's a sort of epic for my favorite character on TV.

I am the snake beneath the rock,

the fear in unexpected shock.

I am the dark of a moonless night,

the thief of a soldier's will to fight.

I am the hate that clouds your heart,

the knife that tears young loves apart.

I am the glint of greed and lust,

the eyes that you refuse to trust.

Be afraid, hold close your love,

for I will steal it from above.

No price too high, no deal too low.

The seeds of chaos I seek to sow.

Be wary and observe me close,

for I have far too many foes.

No hate too deep, no end too dark.

The desperate souls I seem to hark.

You know me as the catalyst,

disappearing in the mist.

You see me as the heartless beast,

not even with a soul at least.

Now I have come to make a deal.

You ask me what I want to steal.

Not much, think I with a grin,

with no sense of kind chagrin.

You need your town safe and sure,

the war at ends, the peace secure.

Gold you offer as the price.

It holds no value to my eyes.

I smile, knowing what I want.

You shiver like it was a taunt.

I name my price, my repayment:

I want the girl in gold raiment.

You say that she is long engaged.

I care not for the fool enraged.

I do not search for love or fate.

I need a maid for my estate.

Yes, at first, you do deny,

yet strength I spy within her eye.

She is brave for your good luck,

and by her word, the deal is struck.

Forever she will live with me,

serve my meals, dust and clean,

launder clothes and fetch me straw.

To her my word will be as law.

She accepts each duty with calm grace,

and nothing escapes her lovely face.

Indeed she seems to be so brave,

that I must force that flame to wave.

I add one more task to the rest,

one only a beast would request.

Calmly I tell her that she will

skin the children that I kill.

There is the shock and with her gasp,

the small teacup slips from her grasp.

The clink as it lands on the ground

is, in the room, the only sound.

I cannot help but crack a smile:

this could be fun for quite a while.

As I reveal my little quip,

she kneels to fetch what she let slip.

She takes a pause and with a frown,

lifts the teacup off the ground.

"I'm sorry," she says, "but there's a chip."

Now I can see it in the lip.

She seems so worried, I am confused.

I frown as I begin to muse.

Blue eyes flicker with a fear

of the scolding she thinks she'll hear.

"It's just a cup," I have to say,

her worries I feel I must allay.

With a smile, she gets to her feet,

and goes back to pouring the tea.

She is a strange one, now I can tell,

this gently bird, the charming bell.

Filled with a heart that's lion-brave,

compassionate and wants to save.

Good luck, I wish her silently.

She'll find no heart to save in me.

I am the cruel, soulless beast.

That she will have to quickly see.

Oh peaceful dove, you'll soon regret

that deal to which you have been set.

And I will wait to see how long

it takes until you miss what's gone.

The months go by and still she smiles,

amused by all my little wiles.

I wonder at her bright blue eyes.

Does she think this life is nice?

Her lack of wistful memory

to me is one great mystery.

True, she loves those left behind,

but has no wish to rewind.

Instead, she seems to enjoy more

uncovering my life before.

Though I read between the lines,

I cannot tell her any lies.

And she begins to understand

this monster who was once a man.

Despite my strongest block and wall,

she seems to find my every fault.

Yet these flaws she does not use,

although to her the more I lose.

I feel I walk the very edge

and she might push me from the ledge.

Still she shows no spiteful urge

and soon it seems less like a scourge.

I find that I enjoy our talks,

her wit as cunning as the fox.

Her mind is quick, bright, and pure.

For each illness, she is the cure.

And as I see what she could be,

I realize she must be free.

At first, the thought does not appeal:

it would mean breaking the deal.

But if I were to give a choice,

it would not make the deal void.

I will give her the chance to leave,

to go home or return to me.

Then she will be the one to break

the deal she agreed to make.

And I will not pursue my rights,

hunt down what once had been my prize.

And she will have her family,

live ever after, happily.

As she states her own view of

that power which is called "True Love,"

I see a glint within her eye,

a changing in her view of life.

Something to her has become clear,

a thing she never sought for here.

Now she speaks no other word.

I must release this gentle bird.

She wants to learn more of my past.

I strike a deal, with her, my last.

"Go to town and fetch me straw.

When you return, I'll tell you all."

My words have caught her by surprise.

I see the shock within her eyes.

She questions what I know she must:

the level of, in her, my trust.

I know that she begins to see

as her cheeks glow hopefully.

I tell her what she's wishing for:

I know I'll see her nevermore.

As the door shuts at her back

and she starts down the lonely path,

there is a sting of what I've lost.

I wonder what this kindness cost.

Once more, these chilling walls of stone

tell me that I am all alone.

No more smiles, friendly ties.

No more glowing, bright blue eyes.

What has this creature done to me?

Behind my eyes, she's all I see.

Why is it that when she is gone,

she still controls me as her pawn?

It seems my mind I must distract,

and magic is a useful tact.

I will ascend the tower's stair,

retreat to what has been my lair.

Finally, an old comfort.

My spells and potions reassert

control over this wand'ring mind.

Yet not for long, as I soon find.

Although my fingers mix and brew

the powers known to very few,

my thoughts begin to drift away

and dwell upon a smiling face.

Suddenly my fingers still,
the magic beakers cease to fill.
The tower mocks me silently,
oppressive, chilled, now that she's free.

My feet move of their own accord
across the floor and heading toward
the patch of evenings beryl sky,
a view laid out from up so high.

The distance ends in snow-capped peaks,
massive, jagged monster's teeth.
The castle's grounds are dark and bare,
empty before spring's tender care.

My eyes are sharp and lock onto
the shade that moves in twilight's gloom.
A visitor comes up the road,
just as the sun gives one last glow.

The sunlight gilds thick auburn curls.
Blue dress about her ankles swirls.
The last detail without a flaw:
she holds a basket filled with straw.

Something warms within my chest,
a thing that I had thought long dead.
I give a smile ruefully.
It seems she found a heart in me.

Author's Note

I haven't finished this yet. I know the rhyme scheme starts to change from the fifth stanza. It starts becoming a story at that point.