Rumplestiltskin from the POV of Rumplestiltskin OR Snow White and Rose Red from the POV of the old dwarf they keep "helping".
A Magician's Name
Fifty-seven years I served the crown! But did my experience get me any respect? Recognition? Loyalty? Not on your life! Just when my skill had grown to the point where I could really be of use, Old King Douglas died, and his son, now the Great and Illustrious King Wendell, decided that he'd rather not pay for the expertise of a trained court magician, so he sent me packing, and he hired five barely-magical boys off the street who'd work for a pittance.
I could have cursed him well and good when I went out the door, but I'm too much of a professional for that. He'd have punishment enough when he learned just how much I'd been doing to keep the kingdom running without his noticing--and then he'd be begging me to come back.
After a few months without my magic multiplying the castle stores, the king's expenses were growing and his coffers were shrinking. I kept watch for the king's messengers every day, sure that he'd be begging for my return. But wouldn't you know it, just as Wendell was getting desperate, he heard some miller boasting about how his daughter could spin straw into gold, and our boneheaded king thought this was the solution to all his problems. Why pay for a man who can subtly multiply your stores when you can get mounds of gold from a peasant girl for the low, low price of one threat of execution?
Anyone who knows anything about magic could tell you that no peasant's daughter, however magical, could create gold. It's a complicated trick that requires years of practice. I'd learned to do it only a few months before Wendell fired me. But if Wendell knew anything about magic, none of us would have been in this situation. Before you could say, "Alakazam!", the girl had been taken from her home and thrown in the dungeons with mounds of straw that she had to turn to gold by morning if she didn't want to lose her head.
Now, I'd have been happy to let Wendell learn his lesson by letting the girl fail, but with the girl's life on the line, I had to do something. So just after sunset, I came to the castle, cut a path through the magical defenses those idiot boys had set up--my grandmother's blind cat could have done better--and spirited myself into the dungeon where the girl was being held.
I could tell at a glance that the girl had a spark of magic in her--she was a golden-haired beauty--and could also tell that she'd never done more than parlor tricks in her life. Having magic gives you beauty, using magic--well, it makes you look like me. Fifty-seven years as a court magician shows up on your face. It should have given me the respect my wisdom deserves, but people don't respect wisdom these days. The girl took one look at my face and screamed.
To be fair, that may have been partly because I'd shown up without warning. Once I explained how I'd come in and how I planned to help her out of her predicament, she turned friendly. I took a ring of hers as payment--an out-of-work magician needs to eat (I can't make food out of nothing)--and got to work. I was finished before the sun rose.
My good deed done, I left the dungeon, and hoped the girl would be home by the end of the day. But fifty-seven years at court should have taught me that monarchs never do the decent thing. By noon, I'd learned that King Wendell had declared the girl would only keep her head if she spun another room full of straw into gold.
Another night, the same story--straw comes, girl cries, I show up, take my payment, and do the work that should have been mine this whole time. I spent the whole night hopping mad over the king's idiocy.
The story ended the same way this time, too. Girl thanks me, I go home--and the king demands another room full of gold. This time, though, he sweetened the deal. He must have figured having that much magic in the bloodline wouldn't be a bad thing. If she did this deed tonight, he'd never make her spin straw again--he knew enough about magic to know that feats like this only come in threes--and, as a reward, she could marry the king's only son.
Well, I definitely had to show up for that. It would serve the king right if his son were forced to marry a common girl. And, well, you don't serve at court for fifty-seven years without getting a taste for well-wrought political revenge. A curse on the royal line would have been beneath me, but now I had the chance to demand payment. For my third and final performance, I didn't ask for a gold trinket off the girl--I demanded her firstborn child. The heir to the throne, the continuation of the royal line, would be in my power, and I could bring him back to make his claim on the throne whenever it suited me. You have to admit it was clever.
The girl agreed--what else was she supposed to do?--I spun the gold, the prince married her, and a year later--a newborn prince.
I showed up for my payment, the girl cried, the baby cried--and my revenge was looking a lot more complicated than it had at first. I'm a court magician, not a nursemaid. Besides, what I really wanted wasn't the child--it was recognition. Every magician wants to make a name for himself. Wendell had replaced me, erased me and my accomplishments from the court. I wanted him to know just who had truly been the wonder-worker. I wanted acknowledgement that I was a first-rate magician.
So I told the girl she'd be released from her bargain if someone could tell her my name. I figured Wendell would take a look at me, solve the mystery, and recognize my worth. I would have my satisfaction, and everything would be over.
It took them three days to remember my name! And even then, they only knew it because I practically spoon-fed it to an eavesdropping servant girl. I know that court magician names seem complicated to laymen, but by professional standards, Rumpelstiltskin is not a difficult name!
They did remember my story, though, and they weren't too pleased by my political plot, so I had to do some fancy maneuvering to magic myself out of there before I got a blade through my neck. Made it nice and fiery, too--a dramatic exit worthy of a master magician.
And that's how I cam here. Exile's not too bad. I've found contentment in a quiet retirement--especially now that everyone knows my name.
Also re: romanticizing Carmilla vs Dracula, it will never not be funny/sad to me that Dracula's evil is corroborated by multiple different independent sources all seeing either the same things or aspects that all corroborate and Carmilla's is....two old guys who are heavily "sources: dude trust me." Like yes. I have loved Carmilla since I was like 17. She's my classic lit girl right alongside Rosa Dartle and I know that yes she was evil. But MAN. It's very, very easy to go "actually Spielsdorf was a classic Creepy Old Man In Love With His Ward while Baron Vordenburg is about as credentialed as the vampire amulet guy who sold an anti-vampire amulet to a vampire" based on stuff like "god Spielsdorf we get it your niece was hot please stop saying that" and "oh cool Vordenburg's going on about vampire lore that every author after Le Fanu ignored, seems legit."
Basically one of these vampires is easy to reframe as actually not pure evil, and one of them is Dracula.
YES
One is MUCH more cut and dried than the other. I'm not asking for every adaptation to go that route- I just find it surprising (although not really) that there have been vastly more "Dracula as a positive character and a love interest for some female lead" adaptations, proportional to all adaptations of the story, than there have for Carmilla
like, for Carmilla there's...the web series, and a brief section in the Athena Club books? and that's it? I know there have been fewer adaptations thereof, but come on- there haven't been NONE
Have you read the Miss Sharp's Monsters series by Suzannah Rowntree? The first one is The Werewolf of Whitechapel. They're set in a version of late Victorian Europe in which the members of various ruling houses are different types of monsters (the British royal family are werewolves, the Russians are vampires, etc.)--and very dangerous. The protagonist becomes a bodyguard to Mary of Teck and gets tangled up in fantastical political drama. And yes, Mary Adelaide does show up. It's been a while since I've read it, so I don't recall if the portrayal gets her right, but all in all I think the series might be something you would enjoy.
YAY SOMEONE ELSE KNOWS WHO CHARLOTTE HOLMES IS!!!!
I devoured the first four books in three days and am currently reading the fifth, and also 16k deep into what will probably be a 20k fanfic. I have never posted fic before but there are only eight (😱) fics about her on ao3 so something had to be done.
I just love her a lot. I love how she doesn't suffer fools but has a deep well of compassion for those she loves, how she indulges herself in sensual things like good desserts and fancy dresses and isn't judged by the narrative for doing so, how she and Ash are somehow a slow burn couple despite having slept together and thoroughly enjoyed it, and how she doesn't feel like an imitation of Sherlock Holmes. He'd be proud to call her his sister.
Anyway yes! Very happy more people than just me have heard of her and looking forward to finishing the series over the next few weeks AND to getting my fic on ao3 😁
YOU ARE WRITING A FIC ABOUT HER????
AND IT IS CURRENTLY OVER 16K???
I AM BEGGING YOU, WILL YOU PLEASE SHARE WITH ME WHEN IT IS COMPLETED?
Oh my gosh, I would love to read! And I’m so glad to meet another fan! That’s exciting! Charlotte is amazing, and I love how she’s not just genderbent Sherlock, she’s all her own. I love it! And I love the stories! Yes!
So good knowing there are others out there who enjoy those stories too!
Oh man the Homer and Flanders vid you just reblogged made me tear up, so glad they're reverting to Homer actually being a decent guy again
One of the things I do really like about the modern show is how the Simpsons and the Flanders are basically family to each other at this point.
I think it’s always been kind of key to the Homer/Flanders relationship that Homer resents Ned for resembling the person he wants to be, and Homer’s definition of success is being a good husband and father. So when he’s able to rise above the impulse to do the easiest thing and put Ned down instead of bettering himself, what he’s looking at is someone he respects and loves. It feels like an adult version of Bart’s whole sibling rivalry with Lisa in some ways.
