Rumplestiltskin Noir

Have you ever seen the wings ripped off a pixie, or the cold and broken body of a gnome, I have. My name is Rumple, Rumplestiltskin and I’m the last detective left in Faerie.

It was a cold October morning, with the rain pouring down outside and not a rainbow anywhere in sight. The Queen of Fall was in full glory and all the trees looked like they had been set on fire, granted some of them actually had. The dame that walked through my office door looked like trouble, and smelled like heaven. She was high court, Faerie royalty, what she was doing down here in the depths was anyone’s guess, mine would have been she had a taste for the darker side of life, and I’d probably be right. When she walked through my door the light illuminated her like she was stepping out of a painting. The High nobility have a knack for that sort of thing, it’s like they can’t turn it off. This dame was gorgeous with a capital G. She slinked her way over to my desk and I almost had the urge to get up and offer her a chair, but you don’t get to be the last detective in Faerie by being a gentleman so I propped my feet up on my desk and lit a new cigar.

“What ya want Princess,” the smoke making my voice sound like gravel grating over cold bones, but I’m a troll so that’s almost an improvement.

“I have a job for you Mr. Stiltskin.” She replied in a silky smooth whisper that would have made lesser men melt, and stones stand up and beg to hear it again.

“Why, you nobles all have your own private police force up there on knob hill what do you need an old gum shoe like me for?”

“Because Mr. Stiltskin, I have been assured by my associates that you are the soul of discretion and can be trusted to keep a secret.”

“A secret like that sounds expensive, but I’m sure a leggy gal like you can come across with the payment, so what’s the job?”

Her eyes sparkled, and I almost thought I had pushed her too far but she just sighed and pulled out a cigarette to place inside the long black tube of a holder. Being the courteous fellow that I am I didn’t get up to offer her a light, and she arched an eyebrow as she produced a small flame and let it dance between her fingers. Magic like that wasn’t cheap either and such a flashy display let me know this broad was definitely on the ‘right’ side of the tracks.

She took a deep drag and sat down crossing her long legs slowly, making sure I got the full show. I would have told her that a goblin stole my heart a long time ago and such sights just didn’t move me anymore but I thought I should let her have her fun, besides, like the lady said I keep secrets especially my own.

“Well, Mr. Stiltskin…”

“Please, call me Rumple”

“Very well. Rumple, I need you to find an object for me, something that was stolen, and that I would like returned to me.”

“Ahh, and what exactly would this object be?”

“A simple bauble really, but it has sentimental value, a small jewel, a ruby, carved in the likeness of a Harlequin’s mask. It was taken from this address two nights ago. I can trust that you will be the soul of subtlety in this matter, and please if anyone asks, you aren’t working for me.”

She slides a small card across my desk, while I think to myself “lady I don’t even know your name,” the pure white of the card somehow instantly stained by the clutter and detritus that lies on the work surface. I’d feel bad, that whole lack of a heart thing really cuts down on the emotional responses. The card was blank, except for an address printed in perfect script, this had Noble Fae written all over it, and it looked like I was going to be sticking my broken, crooked nose in it all over again.

“All right, the job is gonna cost you 30lbs of golden straw a day, and I’ll need an expense budget as well if you want the job done proper. “

“Very well” and she pulls a long piece of parchment out of thin air, another one of those Nob tricks, “Sign this contract and all will be taken care of.”

I almost laughed; she really hadn’t done her homework, getting a troll like myself to abide by a contract was about as likely as getting a Nob to give up their true name or a fish to fetch. But I would sign it anyway, the gig was too good to pass up, which should have been my first clue to kick the Lady out on her high and tight rump and tell her to get lost. I decided I would pull out one of my old tricks and show the Lady that she wasn’t the only one with some magic. With a flourish I signed my name in blood red script without ever even touching the page. The smile that crossed her face was reminiscent of the cat that got the cream, and I could feel the tingle of magic binding itself on to my skin, around my right wrist a chain of fine holly appeared tattooed into my skin by the magic of the contract. It was only there for a second, but it gave me the first clue to my mysterious guest’s identity. It also told me that I was dealing with some powerful and binding magic, and that maybe I should actually take this job seriously. I stood with a wry grin plastered to my face, and held out my hand, you gotta give em a show, you always have to give them a show.

Her skin with silken and smooth, and slightly cold to the touch but I shook it with a firm grip anyway, you never let the Nobs see you flinch.

“Very well I do believe our business is concluded, I await your progress with eager anticipation.” She turned to leave but I stopped her with a gruff cough.

“There’s the matter of my payment madam,”

“The gold will be deposited in your account, and as far as the expense account goes merely show any merchant in the city that tattoo and they will provide you with whatever you need.” And she left, that wouldn’t be the last time I saw her pretty little rear end walking away from me, but it was the first, and boy was it memorable.

The first thing I did after my door closed and I was again alone was relight the cigar that had gone out, the second thing was to call my bank, sure enough the gold was there, all 30lbs of it. I decided to take a walk around town to clear my head, and let my first course of action present itself. The street is always where I start my cases and most often where I finish them too. The cold chill in the air almost had the bite of winter but we weren’t there yet, no, Winter wouldn’t be taking power for a few months yet and that meant that Fall still held sway. The smell of fallen leaves and earth was think in the air, along with the tang of wood smoke and other darker scents. I could have followed my client, tracked her by the perfume she wore, but that wouldn’t solve my most pressing of problems and so I took a left out of my building’s entranceway and headed deeper into the depths of the City.

My building sits right on the edge of the depths, straddling the border with High town, also known as Knob Hill. For about a mile on each side and stretching in a ring all the way around the city is the area best described as the neutral zone. It’s where the Nobs and the courtless mingled, where commerce was done, and where the seedier elements of the city could be contracted. I guess I would count as one of those seedier elements but I didn’t dwell on it too much.

The old brownstone my office sat in was like most of the other ones surrounding it; worn at the edges and falling to pieces in places but still serviceable. To the North at the center of the city was the palace, and the rest residents of the High Court, to the South were the endless depths and the outskirts of town. It was to the South that I turned and began trudging. Now that I had some liquid cash and a carte blanche expense account it was time to see a certain goblin about getting my heart back.

I picked up a shadow almost as soon as I left the neutral area and entered the depths. My guess it was someone calling to collect on one of the many debts I owed but I was wrong, and it almost cost me my life.

I had noticed my tagalong but didn’t really pay it much heed I was too focused on the task at hand, but when I felt a cold tingle on my wrist I decided to pay a little more attention. Whatever spell the fellow following me had tried apparently failed thanks to my brand new piece of body art and he was very surprised when I turned around and delivered a punch to his gut that must have felt like a ton of stone. He crumpled like a cheap suit and I landed two or three heavier blows before he had a chance to speak. When he did get a word in it wasn’t exactly what I was expecting.

“You must stop this course of action, you must turn back, you cannot give Her the mask.”

“Listen bub,” I said raising my fist to slap him around a little more, but he looked so pitiful I just hauled him up to his feet instead, “I don’t really know what you are talking about I’m just a fellow out for a stroll.”

His voice trembled and I almost thought he was going to cry, “You must not complete this case, whatever you do don’t give Her the mask you could destroy the very balance of nature itself.”

“Right, I’m going to pretend like I have the slightest idea what you are talking about, tell you that your message has been received and ask you to go on about your day.”

I turned and started walking again leaving the fellow standing with a forlorn look on his face watching me go, I certainly hoped that he made it out of the depths alive, he seemed like a nice enough fellow, which gave me pause because normally I didn’t have thoughts like that, which also meant I must be getting closer to my heart. Oh Joy, emotions.