Mirra walked about the forest today. She needed to get away from it all, her bullying siblings, her impatient parents, the rude villagers, her whole town in general. As poor as her family was, it wasn't stressful enough to endure compared to her handicap she was born with. She was sick of her problem as much as the others in her life, a constant barricade of communication.
It was a beautiful warm sunny day. She decided to go out to the forest and collect berries. She was in the mood to bake a berry cake. She nearly dropped her basket when she was startled by the voice of a very irritated scot.
"Damn you beast! Hold still! Ugh…why did I even ask for a horse in that deal? I don't neeeed a horse! I can go anywhere I want! Why am I talking to myself?"
Mirra did her best not to laugh at a slender man cladded in leather, his hair was curly and quite out of control, having a self-consultation with himself. A twig broke underneath her brown boot; she jumped back behind a tree trunk when he whipped his head in her direction. He saw no one.
Assuming it was a small creature scurrying about, he went back to the horse.
"Good beast…now…stay!" The horse rebelled and starting whining angrily. Mirra wondered why this horse was so afraid and angry at this man. Animals had always judged others well, and this man didn't seem so horrible, just…frustrated.
Rumpelstiltskin did his best to yank the horse down by the reins. He was never good with animals.
After moments of pity and observing the struggling owner, she crept over to the horse, placing herself inches in front of Rumpelstiltskin's view. He did his best to act collected being she nearly pulled a trick he's done to others so many times; instantly appearing out of nowhere. He realized how annoying and startling it was to be on the receiving end of that.
He looked at the slightly pale raven haired beauty. Her vibrant violet eyes pleaded through thick, curly lashes to him, to let her help.
Arms crossed and brows raised, he took a few steps back. He didn't like others helping him, but he felt she deserved the chance to prove herself being she went right up to him, unlike others.
Taking a deep breath, she placed her palm on the horse's snout. Slowly and carefully, she lifted her hand to the horse's ear, rubbing it between her fingers, calming it down.
Rumpelstiltskin looked at her now, lips pursed, brows raised and eyes wide, amazed at this woman. She then turned to him, smiling. Pulling her shawl to the side, resulting in a tease of flesh on her shoulders, she took a quill out of her small bag, with paper.
She quickly wrote something on it and gave it to the Dark One. He kindly took the parchment, gripping it within the tips of his fingernails. He read the four sentences.
"You must show the horse patience. You must make the horse feel secure and at ease. Please heed my advice, Sir. My name is MIrra."
He rolled the parchment into a scroll, fitting it in his pocket. He whipped his hand out, making her jump a little, but she still remained planted in her spot. He took a lock of her straight hair, rubbing the strands between his fingers.
"So Dearie, I guess a Thank you is in order. I thank you." Mirra simply shook her head in acceptance and smiled so sweetly at him. She knelt down into a small curtsy, picked up her basket and walked off.
Little did she know, Rumpelstiltskin was a very curious man, and he would not back down.
She nearly jumped again when she felt 4 sharp taps in her shoulder. She turned around and locked eyes with the man she helped seconds ago.
"Where are you going Dearie?"
"Home" she mouth while pointing west.
"Where is your home," he asked. She rolled her eyes as she took out her paper and quill, quickly writing before handing it to him.
"Why do you want to know?" The Imp laughed at her sass.
"I don't know…bored perhaps. A pretty maiden like you cannot simply assume you can acknowledge your presence, and then think I will not follow you."
She turned to him, stopping momentarily, placing her hands her hips, giving him an amused look, then kept walking, he followed.
"Hymm, Dearie…your very shy aren't you?" She shook her head in disagreement while playing with the tatter that was ready to become a hole in her burgundy shawl.
"Why won't you speak to me then? I won't hurt you…unless you'd like me to." Mirra softly yanked at his sleeve to get him to stop. He looked at her gestures.
She pointed to her throat, then her mouth opened, she shook her head negatively. His dark eyes enlarged, looking so intent at her method of explanation.
"You cannot speak, Dearie?" She shook her head. He placed his hand on her back, acting like the gentleman he attempted to always be.
"So…are you cursed?" She shook her head negatively again, then giving him a look of misery.
"Oh, you were born like that?" She nodded her head positively to show he was correct.
"So you have gone your whole life without saying a word, not even a peep?" She nodded.
"So…if I were to take you away and put you in my collection of pretty things, no one would know," he playfully joked. She looked at him and smiled. Her cheeks flushed. He took her upturned hand, quickly kissing her knuckles. After he let her go, she gave him a quick curtsy, winked at him, and then ran away.
He wanted to chase after her, he always loved games, but he had an image to maintain. He needed to keep his threatening reputation, not frolicking in the forest chasing pretty girls.
"Well, back to my lonely castle," he said aloud to himself before he vanished.