He looked so happy when he saw her.
He had to be carried back into the house like an invalid. His leg all but useless. But his smile, that damn foolish smile was plastered over his face. Melisigh forced one onto her lips. He tried to kiss her but she moved her mouth before he could make contact so he brushed her cheek instead.
"Messy," he whispered.
She hated that nickname.
The men laid him down on the bunk they shared. Melisigh almost groaned. He was filthy and bloody, the bunk would smell to high heaven by the evening.
As the men left, the door to their shack slammed and woke the child. The thing screamed and screamed. But he still wanted him. Melisigh wrenched the wailing bundle from its basket and shoved it into his arms. He could barely sit up, but when the screaming thing made contact he curled over it like it was a precious gem. He cooed and pressed kisses into the child's brow. Thankfully that got it to stop screeching.
Melisigh sat across the room on the edge of his rickety old spinning wheel. She folded her arms and scowled at him.
"Come here," he pleaded in a weak shaky voice.
"You ran," she spat at him.
"I know," he said quietly, staring down at the now sleeping child in his arms.
She made a disgusted noise and looked away from him.
"You should be ashamed of yourself," she seethed through clenched teeth.
"I am, Messy…"
She cut him off to avoid listening to his voice any longer, "I'm going into the village."
"Please… I love…" he started. Melisigh left him there before he could protest further.
When she returned that night, plan at the ready, they were both sleeping.
She noticed the mess he had made. He obviously had attempted to feed the child. There was food everywhere and the thing was tucked awkwardly in its basket. The man snored softly, a most annoying habit, as he laid sprawled on the bed. His now crippled leg dangling over the edge. It was swollen and more disgusting looking than when she left.
Serves him right for trying to move around.
She heard the soft sound of wheels creaking and horses walking. Galeston was here.
She had hesitated when he suggested this idea earlier. He always got crazy ideas after their afternoons together. This was not the first time he had suggested this particular scenario.
Melisigh was lacing up the front of her dress when Galeston pulled her back down into the hay.
You're beautiful. He said.
You deserve better.
He kissed her throat.
He's not only a coward, but now he's a cripple too.
Her breasts.
You are a queen. You deserve a queen's life. Riches. Adornment. And a husband to match.
She moaned.
Want I should kill him?
She had stopped him there, for she despised Rumpelstiltskin, but she did not wish him dead.
Come away with me, then. We'll be happy. I'll make you happy.
He had been asking her for years, even before she was married. Before she was the town laughing stock. She couldn't see them laughing at her, but she knew that they did. Who wouldn't laugh at her? The town beauty, stuck with this stupid weakling of a spinner, who continuously gave away his wears to beggars instead of selling them. Now he was an army deserter as well? Melisigh couldn't stomach the thought.
She gathered her clothes and threw them in a sack, throwing one last sneer at the lump on the bed.
She closed the door behind her, not looking back. Galeston was there, all smiles, in the horse cart. Melisigh sat her bag town on the bench and threw her arms around him.
"Watch it!" he hissed. "These trousers are expensive and you smell like a chicken coop."
"Sorry," she murmured, gently planting a kiss on his cheek.
"Where are we going?" Melisigh asked.
"Don't you worry your pretty little head about it," Galeston said bitterly.
She was a little shocked by his tone but she brushed that thought aside. He was just excited. She was all his now. She thought happily of all the free time she'd now have with no screaming child to attend too. And no one would blame her for leaving. After all, women did not like to be married to cowards.