Once upon a time, long ago in a far distant land named Eragamin, also called by foreigners das Land von der Messe gehäutet, there, lived the last of the Zwerge. His name was Rumpelstilzchen. He was little in size, a common trait of his magical people. There were rumours which told of his immortality but truth be told, he owed his ancient age to his Zwerge blood; a Zwerge could live up to centuries.
The Zwerge were benign and at times would appear to humans in need of help. In fact, they were rumoured to be descendants of angels who came to earth but never returned to heaven.
One day, as Rumpelstilzchen was travelling past a kingdom in Eragamin, he heard of a miller’s daughter who was taken by the king as prisoner because her father boasted to the villagers that she could spin straw into gold without considering the consequences. The king caught wind of his words and wanted to see if it was true for if it was, then he would be the richest king in the land.
In the dead of the night, Rumpelstilzchen visited the tower where the girl was supposedly imprisoned in. With his supernatural ability, he heard the girl’s weeping at the top of the tower.
“How am I going to turn all these straw in this room into gold? I am merely a miller’s daughter who has neither such skills nor such powers. The king has passed the decree. If there is no gold in this room by dawn, he will have my head.”
Heart full with sympathy and compassion, Rumpelstilzchen appeared in the room magically before the girl; her beautiful face glistened with tears. “Poor maiden, I have heard your cries. I will help you spin straw into gold so you may live.”
The Zwerge seated himself in front of the spinning wheel which was placed in the centre of the room, and whirr, whirr, whirr, three turns, and the reel was full. Then, he put another on, and whirr, whirr, whirr, three times round, and the second was full too. And so it went on until the morning, when all the straw was spun, and all the reels were full of gold.
By daybreak, the king was already there, and when he saw the gold, he was sincerely astonished and delighted, but his heart became only greedier. He had the miller’s daughter taken into another room full of straw, which was much larger, and commanded her to spin that also in one night if she valued her life.
The girl knew not how to help herself, and once again cried pitifully. Rumpelstilzchen heard her cries and appeared before her the second time. And again, without any conditions, he promised to help her. He turned the wheel and by morning, had spun all the straw into glittering gold, just as he had the previous night.
The king rejoiced beyond measure at the sight, but still he had not enough of the gold, and he had the miller’s daughter taken into a still larger room full of straw, and said, “You must spin this, too, in the course of this night, but if you succeed, you shall be my wife.”
Even if she is of a commoner’s blood, thought he, I could not find a richer wife in the whole world.
On this third night, the girl wept, just as how she did on the other two occasions. Rumpelstilzchen came to her once more to comfort her. Throwing herself to his feet, she pleaded for his help the final time.
“Powerful and kind sir, please help me this last time for if I can live through this ordeal, I shall be made queen. My family and I will no longer have to live in poverty.”
Rumpelstilzchen watched her sadly. Twice he had used enormous amount of his powers to spin straws into gold for her. He was exhausted from the tasks. It was taxing on him for the usage of his powers hastened him to his deathbed.
“Sweet unfortunate maiden, I cannot help you on this night.”
“No, sir, you must not forsake me. What is it that you want from me? My golden necklace? My golden ring? I will give them to you.”
The Zwerge shook his head remorsefully. “Gold means nothing to me.”
“Then, tell me, gentle sir, what can I give you to please you?”
He thought deeply for a moment. Rumpelstilzchen sighed. If he used his magic again, he was certain he could not live more than twenty years. He decided he could not abandon her but he wished for company in his last dying years.
“Promise me, to give me your first child. When I die, I will return the child to your side.”
Desperate, the girl promised him what he wanted, and thus, he spun the straw into gold, sacrificing a portion of his life force into his magic for her sake. When the king came in the morning and found all as he had wished, he took her in marriage, and the pretty miller’s daughter became a queen.
A year after, she brought a fine child into the world and she never gave a thought to the Zwerge. But Rumpelstilzchen appeared to her in her room on the day her child turned two in the hope that she would fulfil her promise.
The queen was horror-struck, and offered him all the riches of the kingdom if he would leave her the child. She loved her child and could not bear to part with him.
“I told you years ago. Gold means nothing to me. A company is all I need now. I am old and I will die soon. As said, I will return him to you when I die.”
The queen began to lament and cry. Rumpelstilzchen’s kind heart moved for her. But the promise must be kept. It was the way of the Zwerge. “I will give you three days time. If by that time you find out my name, then you shall keep your child.”
So the queen thought the whole night of all the names that she had ever heard, and she sent a messenger over the country to inquire, far and wide, for any other names that there might be. When the Zwerge came the next day, she began with Caspar, Melchior, Balthazar, and said all the names she knew, one after another, but to each of it, the little man said, “That is not my name.”
On the second day she had inquiries made in the neighbourhood as to the names of the people there, and she repeated to the manikin the most uncommon and curious. “Perhaps you name is Shortribs, or Sheepshanks, or Laceleg?”
On the third day, the messenger came back again, and said, I have not been able to find a single new name, but as I came to a high mountain at the end of the forest, where the fox and the hare bid each other good night, there I saw a little house. I was hungry and needed food to eat. Knocking on the door, a small man came to answer. A meal, he offered to me and a fire to warm my hands. Before I left his home, I thanked him and asked for his name. Strange it was, this name of his, for I have heard none like it: his name is Rumpelstilzchen.”
How glad the selfish queen was when she heard the name. She was certain it was the name she had been searching for. But when the Zwerge came to her the third time, he had an odd knowing look in his aged, blue eyes.
“What is my name?” he sighed.
“Is your name Conrad?”
“No.”
“Is your name Harry?”
“No.”
“Perhaps your name is Rumpelstilzchen?”
He gradually nodded his head. However, his heart ached at how the queen primarily went against her promise to him. He had saved her three times but she denied him a simple favour. Quietly, he turned away from her and disappeared, broken-hearted, never to appear to help humans for the rest of his shortened life.
Rumpelstilzchen placed a curse on mankind that those who do not keep their promises, they will have a short life.
**Partially adapted from the Grimm Brothers' Rumpelstiltskin.
