“Thank you so much!” the maiden said. “I didn’t get your name.”

Instead of answering, the dwarf snapped his fingers and disappeared from the tower. Shortly after sunrise, the king stormed in to check on the maiden’s progress. He looked around the tower in awe. Although he had given the order, even he was impressed to see it happen.

“I spun the hay into gold, just as you wished,” the maiden said. “May I please go home?”

The king didn’t answer. His soldiers took hold of the maiden and escorted her to a large chamber in the castle. It was four times the size of the tower and contained nothing but a spinning wheel and numerous stacks of hay.

“Now you will spin this hay into gold by sunrise tomorrow, or your head will be cut off,” the king said.

With his new orders given, he and his soldiers left the chamber and locked the poor maiden inside. The maiden was beside herself with sorrow. How was she going to spin all the hay into gold? It would be a challenge even if she were capable of such an act.

Luckily, another whirlwind spun around the chamber and the magic dwarf appeared once more.

“At it again, I see,” he said with a wink.

“Will you help me spin this hay into gold again?” the maiden begged. “If not, I will surely lose my head tomorrow at sunrise.”

“But I never do anything for free, especially if I’ve done it before,” the dwarf said. “I’d be happy to help if we could come to an arrangement.”

Once again, the dwarf looked the maiden up and down and then side to side.

“I’ll do it for your necklace,” he said.

“But this necklace belonged to my grandmother,” she said. “I could never give it up.”

“It’ll be hard wearing a necklace without a head,” the dwarf pointed out.

“Fair enough,” the maiden said.

She handed over her grandmother’s necklace, and the dwarf went to work spinning the hay into gold. By the time the sun rose the following day, the chamber was filled with glittering stacks of gold.

“Thank you!” the maiden said. “But wait—I still didn’t get your name.”

Instead of answering, the dwarf wiggled his ears and disappeared. Just after sunrise, the king and his soldiers barged into the chamber and were very pleased with what they saw.

“I’ve spun the hay into gold, just as you asked,” the maiden said. “Now will you please let me go home?”

The king did not answer. The soldiers took the maiden by the arms and led her down a dark staircase into the castle dungeon. The dungeon was filled from floor to ceiling with mounds of hay.

“If you spin this hay into gold by sunrise tomorrow, the kingdom shall be the richest country in the world, and I shall make you my queen,” the king said. “If not, you shall lose your head.”

The king and his soldiers left the dungeon and locked the maiden inside. She was overwhelmed with fear. The task seemed impossible. Even if the dwarf appeared again, he most certainly wouldn’t be able to spin all the hay in the dungeon into gold by sunrise.

Another whirlwind spun around her, and the dwarf appeared in the dungeon.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” he said.

“I’m starting to think the king just wants me dead,” the maiden said. “There isn’t enough time to spin all the hay into gold, even for you!”

“Ah, but the greater the trade, the faster I work,” he said.

“But I have nothing left to give you,” the maiden said.

“For now,” the dwarf said with a twinkle in his eye. “But if you give me your firstborn child, I will spin all this hay into gold by sunrise.”

It was the most obscene idea the maiden had ever heard. If she had a child one day, she could never give it to the dwarf.

“What a cruel thing to suggest!” she said.

“It’s a child or the executioner’s axe,” the dwarf said. “Take it or leave it.”

The maiden was so exhausted she wasn’t thinking straight. More than anything, she just wanted the nightmare to be over.

“Fine—if you spin all the hay in this dungeon into gold, I will give you my firstborn child,” she said.

The dwarf laughed wildly and did cartwheels around the dungeon. To date, it was the greatest trade he had ever made. He sat behind the spinning wheel and went to work. The longer he spun the hay into gold, the faster he went. Soon the entire dungeon was filled with gleaming stacks of gold.

“You’ve saved my life again,” the maiden said. “But I didn’t get your name.”

Instead of answering, he scrunched his nose and disappeared from the dungeon. The king and his soldiers returned at sunrise and were shocked to see all the gold in the dungeon. Even the king had thought the task would be impossible.

“I apologize for threatening your life, but we were most desperately in debt,” the king exclaimed. “But now, thanks to you, we will have the richest kingdom in the world! Please rule it alongside me as my queen.”

The circumstances were very bizarre, so the maiden had to think his proposal over. She either returned to a father who had almost gotten her killed, or married a man who had almost had her killed. Either way, it was a complicated future. But when she compared the life of a queen to the life of a miller’s daughter, the maiden found it was an easy choice.

Thanks to the kingdom’s newfound wealth, the king and the maiden had an extravagant royal wedding. The maiden became queen and was never forced to spin anything again. She enjoyed her new life as queen so much, she forgot all about the magical dwarf and the debt she owed him.

Within a year, the queen was pregnant with the heir to her husband’s throne. She gave birth to a beautiful baby princess, and the kingdom rejoiced. Unfortunately for the queen, the dwarf had not forgotten about their agreement. He returned to the castle ready to collect on his end of the bargain.

“The princess is mine!” he said.

“No! You can’t take her!” the queen said.

“A deal is a deal,” the dwarf said. “You wouldn’t be queen if it weren’t for me! Now hand over the child or I’ll tell the king who really spun all that hay into gold.”

“Please, there must be something else I can give you,” the queen said. “I can give you riches and jewels beyond your wildest dreams! I could give you land and a title! I could make you a knight, a lord, or a duke!”

“The child is all I’m interested in,” the stubborn dwarf said. “However, if you can guess my name, I will let you keep the child.”

The queen guessed all the names she knew.

“Is it John, Michael, or William?” she asked.

“Nope,” the dwarf said.

“What about Harold, Robert, or David?”

“Not even close!”

The queen guessed every name from Adam to Zachariah, but not one was correct. The dwarf squealed in delight watching her agonize over it.

“You’ll never guess!” he said. “Give me the child!”

“Wait! At least let me have until the end of the week,” she pleaded. “Just one more week and I will give you my daughter.”

The dwarf was certain she would never guess his name, and since he enjoyed watching her struggle so much, he agreed to give her one more week. As soon as he left, the queen sent for her royal guard.

“Yes, Your Majesty?” the guard asked.

“I have a very important task for you, one that the king must never know about,” she instructed. “There is a dangerous dwarf living in the kingdom who is trying to take the princess. I want you to find him and learn his name. If we know what he is called, the princess will be saved.”

In all his years of service at the castle, this was by far the strangest task the guard had ever been assigned. He spent the whole week searching the kingdom for the dwarf, asking everyone from the young to the elderly if they had seen such a person. Finally, he was pointed in the direction of a strange woods where the dwarf lived. He found the odd little man singing and dancing around a large fire.

“The queen is sure to lose this game, for Rumpelstiltskin is my name!” the dwarf sang joyfully.

“Rumpelstiltskin!” the guard said. “That’s it—that’s his name!”

The guard raced back to the castle and told the queen what he had seen and heard in the woods. At the end of the week, the dwarf returned to the castle grinning from ear to ear, certain he would be leaving with the young princess.

“Today is your last chance, Your Highness,” he said.

The queen knew better than to come right out and say his real name, so she guessed the most ridiculous names she could think of to appear as genuine as possible.

“Is it Pickledphil, Slimbutter, or Jackytabby?”

“No, no, no!” the dwarf sang.

“Is it Fuzzlebee, Wunkadunka, or Hurshquilt?”

“Wrong, wrong, wrong!” the dwarf replied, laughing.

“What about Crustylumpkins, Lullytufkins, or Quackysimons?”

The dwarf roared with victorious laughter. As far as he was concerned, he had already won.

“You’ll never get it right,” he said. “Now give it up and hand over the princess!”

“Wait, allow me one final guess,” the queen said. “Just one more guess and the princess will be yours.”

“Fine, fine, fine,” the dwarf said. “One more guess and then hand her over.”

“Is it Rumpelstiltskin?” the queen asked.

The dwarf’s mouth dropped open. He couldn’t believe the queen had guessed his name correctly—no one had ever guessed his name correctly. He hopped around the castle in a furious rage and then disappeared.

The queen raised her daughter at the castle in peace and they never saw Rumpelstiltskin again.

The End