TITLE: The Fable
Warnings: Bad language and M/M sexual situations.
Disclaimer: The Bee owns none of the characters used
in this story.
Summary: A new take on the old fable of Rumpelstiltskin.
Xander is held in the tower prison of the evil King Liam and has
been ordered to spin a roomful of straw to gold. Can he do
it? Is there someone who can help?
Author's note: This story is not betaed or spell checked by anyone but me.
If there are errors that you simply have to point out, feel free but don't be upset
if I don't care.
Comments are greatly appreciated
Thanks to Naughty Fae for the pre-read and encouragementLink
to previous chapters HERE
Xander was jarred awake by the sound of rattling keys inside the huge lock on the heavy door
of his prison. Immediately, he jerked upright and scooted backwards on his butt until he
was pressed flat against the damp stone wall of his cell. His eyes and nose were still red
and puffy from his crying jag and now his bladder was protesting the strain being put upon
it. Xander's hair was wild and mussed and he had shafts of straw stuck to his face
"Good morning. Your name is Alexander. Right?"
Xander did not answer. Instead he stared warily at the small, thin boy who was framing
the shadowy doorway. Xander had expected a huge burly guard with a sword or a sharp knife
to barge in and upon seeing the straw still in its original form, lop off the prisoner's head
or possibly gut him like a deer. Instead, all the boy seemed to have in his possession were
two wooden pails. One in each small hand.
Xander made no move to extricate himself from his position although he did lean slightly to
the side in an effort to look past the lad with the buckets to see if there was any threat
looming behind. From his limited vantage point, there seemed to be none which struck
Xander as odd.
"Alexander is my given name but I am called Xander. Who are you and what do you want?"
Disregarding the prisoner's scowl and foul temperament, the boy took the question as
an invitation to come in and he stepped cheerfully across the threshold. "Hi. I'm Andrew.
I'm one of King Liam's personal pages. I works here in the tower. I gots you a couple pails.
One is to piss in and one is your breakfast. Ya better set the food one aside afore ya piss into
the other one cause after ya do they will probably smell a lot alike." With that, Andrew threw
his head back and whooped out a belly laugh that Xander found an odd cross between
charming and grossly inappropriate.
The comment also did not bode well for the quality of breakfast but since Xander had
anticipated no food at all, he couldn't be too disappointed.
Before he could go any further in his attempt to understand what the boy was telling
him, Xander's morning wood forced him to prioritize his needs and desperation trumped all else.
Hoisting himself up to kneel, he frantically snatched the empty wooden bucket from the
boy's hand and he set it on the floor between his knees. Then with his back to Andrew,
Xander fished his half-hard dick from his trousers and he aimed it just in time to release a
hot stream of what seemed to be a gallon of urine.
"Ahhhh. Yessss." Relief washed through him as Xander dropped his head and sighed
when the last of the pee drained and dripped from his softening pecker. His whole body
relaxed and it gave him the temporary feeling of normalcy and euphoria that only a good
piss could provide. With his eyes closed, Xander didn't notice that this time it was
Andrew craning his neck and trying to catch a glimpse.
After a brief shake, Xander stuffed himself away and he rose to his feet where turned to face
the page. He felt fortified and much more in control as he lifted the bucket by the frayed
rope handle. With a nod of his head, Xander offered it up. "Thank you. I didn't relish
the thought of using the straw like cattle."
Andrew shuffled over and grabbed the bucket, setting it near the doorway for removal.
"Oh, the King specifically said not to let you wet down the straw. After all, it wouldn't do
to have you spin fouled straw into gold. Although, it would be the right color." With
that, Andrew again barked out a laugh at his own clever joke.
Xander failed to find any humor in the situation. He crossed his arms and although he tried
to remain stoic and defiant, the growling in his stomach gave him away. When the loud
rumbley sound caught Andrew's attention, the page tugged his trousers from the crack of
his ass where they had a tendency to creep. "Oh, sorry. I'll bet you're near starved, ain't cha?"
Grabbing the other bucket, Andrew sat it down at the prisoner's feet.
Xander squinted down at the suspicious thick, grey, goop and he frowned. He nudged the
bucket with his toe and he watched the contents slop against the sides in chunks as an oily
film rose to the surface. When the sour odor rose to his nose, Xander clamped his hand
over his face and he took a step backwards. "What the hell is that?"
Andrew smiled as brightly as if he were delivering a steak with boiled potatoes. "Its gruel."
"Gruel? What the fuck is gruel?"
The corners of Andrew's lips twitched downward in the face of what seemed to be a
trick question. "Gruel is gruel. I guess it's leftover stuff from the kitchen and after the
farm animals is fed. Nobody knows what exactly is in it but when you are hungry enough
it don't really matter, does it? I's et it a couple a times when I was bad and if ya don't
throw it back up, it will at least fill yer belly."
Xander snorted in disgust. He shoved the bucket away with his foot and internally, he
informed his digestive system to shut the fuck up and forget it. "Yeah, well apparently I'm
not hungry enough so you can take that one with you too."
Andrew just shrugged. He knew that sooner or later, the prisoner would give in and eat.
They always did. "Okay. Hey, I see you haven't gotten started yet. I don't know how long
this kinda thing takes but you better get going. You only gots till tomorrow, first sun.."
Xander put his fists on his hips and frowned. "Get started with what?"
Andrew shuffled around the room gleefully sliding his feet through the mounds of straw like
a young child playing in the fallen leaves of autumn. "You know. Your spinning. The
whole court is buzzing about it. Did you learn to do it, or were you born that way? Some
say you were touched on the forehead when you was a whelp by a mage as powerful as
Xander threw his arms high in the air in exasperation. "This is all such lunacy! No man can
spin plain straw into strands of gold! I was brought here against my will. I was lied to and
told my family had been slaughtered. I was made hungry and tired from the journey and
now I am expected to do the impossible? How? Do I snap my fingers over the straw?
Do I stuff it into the spinner and pray to the Gods that it miraculously transforms? How
am I to accomplish this insane act?"
Andrew blinked and waited until the prisoner had completed his mad rant before
responding. "The King says he don't much care how you do it as long as he has the
riches for the coffers and the queen wants the gold so she can buy...."
Xander was surprised and for a moment he was distracted from his dire situation. He had
never heard anything about the King having a queen. "The Queen? I didn't know the
kingdom had a queen. No one from my village has ever spoken of her. Why is that?"
Andrew hesitated and he glanced toward the closed door of the tower room as if to assure
himself that there were no ears pressed against the wood. He knew gossip was forbidden
in court and if caught, it would mean a severe punishment. Despite that threat, Andrew
simply couldn't help himself. There was no greater joy than sharing a juicy tidbit.
So, with his voice low and his head tipped forward, Andrew whispered. "She is Queen
Drusilla. The marriage of the King and Queen was arranged when they were but babes in
arms. They done never seen each other till she was brought here and they was married at the
age of twelve. It is a shame really. She is very beautiful. If you like women." Andrew
paused in the issuance of his information to let his eyes scan up and down over Xander's
body in a manner that gave no doubt that women were not the page's preference.
Before Xander could react to the eyeball fuck, Andrew continued. "Unfortunately, she has
The page had put great emphasis on the last of his sentence indicating its importance
but, although Xander scoured his memory, he had no reference point to define the word.
Andrew nodded. "It means she is moon touched. Her mind wanders and she speaks in
strange words and gibberish thoughts." Leaning closer, Andrew placed his hand on
Xander's arm. "Some say it is because the King will not give his royal cock to her and
she suffers from the want of the unreleased. Others say she is just bat-shit crazy but either
way, we are not to speak of her."
Xander snorted and again began pacing the small enclosed space. "Maybe she's crazy
because she is locked in a small room cause I got a feeling that will do it to you."
Andrew scratched his head as the sarcasm sailed high over it. "No, she ain't locked
nowhere. Just nuts."
Xander rolled his eyes. The fact was, right now, in his present predicament, he really didn't
care about a King with a selfish dick or a queen with a scrambled brain. He wasn't interested
in the prohibited tattling's of the royal court and he felt no comradery with a loose-tongued
page. Xander Harris had bigger fish to fry. He was on a time crunch and saw no way to
avoid his date with the sharp side of the sword.
Suddenly, Xander lunged toward Andrew clamping his hands painfully on the young
page's forearms. "Please. Can't you get me out of here? You must have some pull with
the guards. You can explain to them that there has been a terrible mistake and I should
not be locked up. I can not do magic. This whole idea is insane. I am a simple
woodcutter. Please, Andrew. You have to help me."
"Hey!" Andrew twisted and squirmed his lithe body out of the iron grip. He took a
step backwards to put a foot or two of physical space between them while he tried to
estimate just how dangerous the prisoner might be. "You really can't spin the gold?'
Xander's head shook violently as his eyes shone with the bright hope that finally he had
found someone with a bit of influence who would listen to reason understand. "No. No, I can't."
Andrew scowled as he gave that announcement consideration. "Wow. Then you is
fucked!" With that, he grabbed up the rope handles of both wooden buckets and he
scurried over, jerking open the heavy door, out of the room and slamming it shut behind
him leaving Xander in a state of shock.
"Uh." It took only a second for Xander to realize what had just happened and react.
Frantically, he lurched over and again began pounding his fists and shouting angrily.
"Come back here! You get back here you little piss ant and let me out!"
Spike snorted. He swung by his tiny feet in the little cubby hole where he was hidden. He
had awakened as soon as the page boy entered Xander's cell and Spike had listened to the
After the King's page had gone, Spike glanced up at the small openings in the wall and, from
the position of the sun determined that it was only mid-day. He still had hours before he and
the boy would meet and being by choice a nocturnal creature, Spike simply couldn't
function during the day. Especially not while he was in his bat persona. So, with the
assurance that the boy was a captive audience and in no immediate danger, Spike dozed
Later that day, his tiny eyes fluttered open again for a brief moment when one of the burly
guards brought the prisoner a tin cup of water while effectively ignoring all of
Xander's questions, comments, threats and insults. Neither Spike nor Xander realized
that obstinance wasn't the reason for the guards refusal to respond to the prisoner's verbal
barrage but, unfortunately, it was due to a lack of a tongue. As Andrew had suggested,
gossip was a great sin within the castle walls and King Liam had had it cut out years ago
when the guard had been caught spreading rumors of the King's virility.
It was a pity really. The things that man could do with his tongue had been remarkable.
The next time the small, beady little eyes opened it was to the pink, fading hues of a dusky
sky that signaled the impending arrival of the soothing nighttime. His mouth opened wide in
a big yawn that caused his sharp fangs to glisten in the last rays of daylight. He could
physically feel the approach of the cool night and the welcoming moon and gradually
he remembered where he was and why.
Peering down, Spike could see that things for the prisoner had not improved over the course
of the day and from the smell of saline and desperation in the air, they had, in fact gotten
much worse. A worn path in the shaft of straw around the perimeter of the room indicated
the boy had paced most of the day away while a mess of jammed straw in the spinning
wheel showed that he had actually tried to do the impossible.
When the night had fully come and the small, round tower room was again bathed in a hazy
blue light, Spike finally unfurled his dark, leathery wings and he stretched. The boy below
was sitting, resigned, on the floor. His knees were pulled up with his arms wrapped around
his legs and his head resting down as he slowly rocked back and forth.
Silently, Spike released his upside down grip on the wooden beam and he gently whapped
his wings, gliding softy to the floor. There, he landed just feet away from the unaware boy
and immediately the bat's form changed. With the removal of the mystical hood, the
creature stretched, grew and morphed from a small rodent, shooting up and into the shape
of a twisted, human man. With his eyes locked on the prisoner, Spike shrugged off
the enchanted cloak and he tossed it to the floor.
"Well, well. If ever there was a lad who found himself swimming in a vat of sour pickles,
"ACK!!" Xander leapt to his feet and he stumbled backwards as his head snapped between
the shadowy form before him and the closed, heavy door behind. With the disappearance of
the sun and the stingy amount of moonlight that seeped into his cell, Xander couldn't see
much more than a shadowy shape and the vague outline of the stranger which made the
whole situation even more unsettling. "Who.. Who are you? How did you get in here?
I didn't hear,,, The door didn't... What do you want?"
Sensing the lad's shear terror, Spike was careful to keep an ample distance between them as
he swiped a bare foot into a pile of straw sending a dry wispy dust cloud swirling into the
air. "You can ask but one question. Which shall it be? Who am I or how did I get in here?"
Xander blinked. He looked at the sealed, undisturbed door and he gave weight to his
choice. When he did, he decided that it hardly mattered how he got here because, obviously,
he was. "Fine. Who are you?"
Spike grinned. He liked that. This this was a boy of logic. A boy of reason and
consternation. "I'm a friend and excuse me for poking my nose into your business but you
look to me like a young man who is in dire need of a friend."
Xander had to admit that a truer fact had ne'er been spoke and yet he remained wary. "I do
seem to find myself in a peculiar predicament and please don't think I don't appreciate your
offer of friendship but sadly it would appear our's would be a short term relationship. One
sure to be nipped in the bud when the King finds dissatisfaction with me."
Spike chuckled heartily. It was a relaxed sound that for some odd reason filled Xander with
a feeling of relaxed well being and hope.
Spike smiled. "Ah yes, the King. His Royal Highness. Liam the Lout. The Prince of
Pricks. The Regal Birdbrain. The Crowned Head of Cockheads."
As the name calling went on, Xander found himself so caught up in Spike's litany of
creative vulgarisms toward the Regent that he began to giggle. It was an absurd reaction
but maybe not so, considering the totality of the situation.
Sadly, all too soon, the brief moment of lightheartedness passed and Xander sighed. "Although
I can find no contradiction to your clever descriptions of a King you apparently know well,
the fact remains that I am at his service and it is a service I am unable to provide."
Xander watched as the dark shape of a man moved in a smooth, gliding manner around the
room until he came to the place where the useless spinning wheel sat. There, the stranger
swung his leg around and he gracefully straddled the worn, wooden seat as he comfortably
The room was deathly quiet and all conversation between them ceased.
Afraid to approach the odd man, Xander squinted through the darkness in an effort to get a
clear look at the man's face but found it frustrating and confusing. The limited illumination
from the turret slats offered only a play of shadows and shades that made everything, including
a man's features, distorted and frightening. Now, more than freedom or money, Xander
wished he had a lantern or even a candle. "What.. What are you going to do?"
Spike ignored the boy's question and he closed his eyes to concentrate. During his years of
living in the enchanted forest, the fairies and wood nymphs had taught him all sorts of
nature's magic. Ways to manipulate the elements of earth, wind, fire, and water. Secrets
lost to mankind centuries ago when humans chose warfare over living in harmony with the
world around them.
Preparing himself, Spike lifted his hands to his mouth. His pink, pointy tongue flicked out
and brushed across each of his fingertips wetting them thoroughly. He then briskly rubbed
his thumbs over the balls of his fingers until they grew warm and began to softly glow with
a dim, yellow light.
When he felt he was ready, Spike reached down and picked up a long thin, brittle strand of
straw. As his foot pumped the peddle and the big wheel began to turn, Spike fed the
straw through the groove of the feeder. "You might want to catch that and start it winding
on the spindle, pet."
Following the orders yet not knowing what to expect, Xander hurried over and held out his
hand. When a smooth, thin, pliable thread of gold emerged and dropped into his palm,
Xander was stunned.