Free The Rumpelstiltskin Problem by Vivian Vande Velde

read ancient books of magic, and she learned to do things normal village folk could not do.
    And all the while she grew uglier and uglier—but by then people no longer called her names or played tricks on her, for everyone was convinced she was a witch.
    One day as Rumpelstiltskin worked in her garden, she could hear the sound of a commotion next door. She pulled a stone out from the wall that separated the two yards and saw that a rich carriage had pulled up to her neighbors' house. This was not unusual, for a miller and his daughter lived next door, and rich households as well as poor needed to have their wheat ground to flour before they could bake. But the miller's daughter was weeping and clutching at the front door of the house, while two men dressed in very fine clothes pulled and tugged at her and finally lifted her into the carriage. And all this while nobody moved to help the poor girl, and in fact her own father stood in the yard as the carriage began to drive away.
    "I'm sorry!" the father called out after the carriage. "I'm sorry, Luella! I'll do what I can."
    Rumpelstiltskin was very curious about what was going on, but she was no longer on speaking terms with any of the villagers. The only way she could learn what this was all about, she decided, was to follow the carriage.
    So she did.
    Beyond the fields the carriage went, through the woods, over hills and streams, beyond a whole new set of fields, to a magnificent castle.
    Well!
Rumpelstiltskin thought, recognizing the winged lion emblem on the banners.
The king.
    But what, she wondered, would the king want with a miller's daughter? Surely the king had his own miller to grind flour.
    Hiding behind a tree, Rumpelstiltskin watched as the unfortunate Luella was dragged from the coach and carried over the shoulder of one of the king's men into the castle. What had she done, Rumpelstiltskin wondered, to be arrested by the king and imprisoned in his dungeon?
    But Luella wasn't brought to the dungeon. Rumpelstiltskin could hear her continuing to wail and cry as she was brought into the castle. And the cries finally came to rest in a tower on the west end of the castle.
    Rumpelstiltskin saw the shutters of that room fly open, and the miller's daughter stood framed in the window as she looked up, down, and around—but the window was much, much too high up for the girl to escape that way.
    Rumpelstiltskin waited for the evening dark. Then, using one of her witch's tricks, she scaled up the side of the castle wall and into the tower room.
    For some reason, the room was full of straw, bale after bale of it, piled up against the walls and each other. The only free space was in the middle of the room, where someone had set up a spinning wheel. Lying on the floor beside the spinning wheel, all cried out, was the miller's daughter.
    Rumpelstiltskin called in through the window, "Luella. What's happened? What's going on?" Her voice was dry and creaky from not having spoken to anyone in at least three or four years.
    Luella had been lying on the floor, her face buried in her arms. Now she hastily sat up. "Who are you, little man?" she demanded. "How do you know my name?"
    Little man?
    Rumpelstiltskin could easily have answered, "I heard your father call out after you," but she was annoyed that this young snip of a girl mistook her for a man. So she answered, "I know things." She was even more annoyed now that she had a closer look at Luella. Despite the red and puffy eyes, the poor clothes, and the straw in her hair, Luella was a very pretty young woman. Exactly the kind of pretty young woman the men were
always
attracted to. Exactly the kind of pretty young woman who had been the cruelest to Rumpelstiltskin.
    Oh,
Rumpelstiltskin thought to herself.
That's it.
Somehow the king had heard of the miller's daughter. News of beautiful women always seems to travel far and wide. No doubt he had convinced himself that he had to have her and...
    But no. The straw and the