Rumpelstiltskin has multiple forms, one for each of his different personalities and moods. For this story I make him an overly caring but mischievous woodland spirit so this is his more playful form.
There are multiple short stories which I've written for this project. This is just one of them.
“Hello little männlein,” a beautiful witch greeted him with a wicked grin.
“Hello,” the männlein greeted her back with a cherry wave and a short bow as he noticed that the bag the witch was carrying kicked and whined. “What do we have here?” The männlein asked her as he cocked his head curiously at the back.
“A young fox cub I found lost in the woods,” the witch told him, “with whom I expect to make a fine hat and dinner.”
“It must be a fine cub indeed for it to be good enough to make a hat that highlights how pretty your eyes are the way the raccoon's pelt you have does,” the männlein told the witch with a bow. “But a foxes flesh is tough and gammy for they eat mice unlike me who eats berries.”
“Indeed,” the witch agreed with a nod both flattered and suddenly hungry as she eyed the tasty looking männlein who was indeed munching on sweet berries. In a heart beat she’d snatched the little man up by his foot and started to dangle him into her bag.
“Wait,” he told her, “if you put me in the bag with the fox it might eat me and than what will you have?”
The witch thought about this for a moment and decided that she’d best let the fox out of the bag before putting the männlein into it. So she shook the bag until the little kit tumbled out into the snow. Sh than dumped the männlein in into the sack and started on her way once more.
“Your so light its as if I’m not even carrying anything,” the witch noted as she carried the männlein along.
“Yes,” the männlein agreed as he pulled out his pair of spinning scissors out of his pocket and began to cut through the bag and slipped out into the snow. The witch didn’t even notice that the nearly weightless männlein had run off to join the baby fox who was hiding in a thicket of thorn bushes.
“Hello,” the männlein greeted the tiny shuddering animal with a gentle pat on its head. “We need to run before the witch realizes that I’m gone,” than as if on cue the witch realized she’d been tricked and screamed in rage.
“Come on,” he told the fox as he picked her up and ran as fast as he could the witch flying close on their heels. The männlein pulled out a brush and tossed it behind him and it became a thicket of threes but the witch flew over it, he pulled out a rag and tossed it behind him and it became a mountain but the witch flew around it. He went sliding across an icy river and asked it for help so the river pulled him and the fox down under its ice in a pocket of air where the witch could not catch them.
“Thank you river,” the männlein told the water with a bow after he and the baby fox climbed out of it. “Do you have anywhere to stay, a mother or a father?” The männlein asked the young fox who was shaking herself dry.
“No,” the fox cried, “I have no one.”
“You can live with me,” the männlein told her as they walked through the woods.
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