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worryinglyinnocent · 6 years

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Fic: Fins and Scales

A @maydaymenagerie fic for @avatoh! I hope you enjoy.

Summary: Rumpelstiltskin is summoned by the merfolk to find their missing princess Belle. When he does find her, however, she shows no signs of wanting to return to the seas, and instead strikes a new deal with him, one that brings Rumpelstiltskin far more than he bargained for.

Rated: E

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Fins and Scales

It was shaping up to be a perfectly ordinary day until Rumpelstiltskin found the conch shell on the Dark Castle’s steps, and he rolled his eyes. The merfolk really needed to find a more efficient method of contacting him than just throwing shells out of the water and hoping that they stuck. True, they did always hit their mark, but if he hadn’t happened to have left the castle via the front door that day, then it could have been rather a long time before the message was discovered.

Still, that was the method that they had used since they’d started sending him messages, and whilst some people were willing to move with the times and change their ways to suit, the merfolk were not among their number, preferring the status quo at the bottom of the sea. Perhaps they saw the world above so infrequently that they just didn’t know how much it was changing.

Maybe he was being uncharitable, but since Rumpelstiltskin knew that the merfolk did have the ability to walk on land if they so chose, he thought that if their message did have any degree of urgency in it then it would have been delivered in person.

He grabbed the shell and brought it back inside the castle, setting it on the table in the main hall and looking at it for a while. There were just as many kingdoms under the sea as there were above it, and just like on dry land, the rocks and foliage changed with the environment. Rumpelstiltskin recognised this particular style of shell; it had come from the depths of Maurice’s part of the ocean, and that in itself piqued Rumpelstiltskin’s curiosity. Lord Maurice was not one for asking for help from the world above, preferring to keep merfolk and land-dwellers firmly separate, and for him to ask for assistance from the Dark One himself was even more unusual.

Finally, curiosity getting the better of him, Rumpelstiltskin picked up the conch and put it to his ear, listening to the lapping waves of the ocean inside. After a moment, the message began, and Rumpelstiltskin’s brow furrowed. It sounded like complete gibberish, like someone talking through water, the sounds all distorted. Messages from the merfolk like this were usually intelligible even if they didn’t echo quite right in his ears. Presently a voice spoke clearly.

“Ahem, sir, it’s upside down.”

Another distorted word, and then Maurice’s voice spoke.

“Oh, right. I see. Ahem.” He cleared his throat with a great degree of self-importance and began his message proper. “We seek the assistance of the Dark One in a matter of delicate state importance. It appears that the heir to our throne has been kidnapped by scale merchants and we require assistance to find her and return her to the ocean as soon as possible. This is a matter of extreme diplomatic delicacy.”

Rumpelstiltskin put the shell down and raised an eyebrow. It was not unheard of for scale merchants to kidnap unsuspecting merfolk in order to strip the scales off their tails and sell them for use in potions. Merfolk fin scales were a precious commodity and Rumpelstiltskin used them himself in some of his most potent brews, but it was generally easier to make a deal with a merperson and provide something they required in exchange for scales willingly given. They were always best when used fresh, like anything else.

There had not been a case of a scale merchant kidnapping for a very long time, and it seemed strange that they should not only resurface now, but resurface and capture the heir to Maurice’s kingdom out of all the merfolk that they could take. Surely the crown princess would be kept safe within their stronghold. Most of the merfolk that the scale merchants took were found at the peripheries of their societies, not right in the centre. How could such a high profile kidnapping have taken place?

There was definitely more to this case than met the eye, and Rumpelstiltskin sighed. Whilst common sense was telling him that he probably ought to leave well alone and let the notoriously secretive and isolated kingdom take care of its own problems, the fact that something was not as it seemed was intriguing him more than any of the deals he’d taken in recent weeks. A cerebral challenge certainly wouldn’t go amiss.

Maurice hadn’t specified what he would give in return for the location of the missing princess, so Rumpelstiltskin would have to make inquiries about remuneration before he went any further. Maurice’s kingdom was sizeable but by no means the richest of the underwater lands, so perhaps some interesting bargaining could take place.

It was the diplomatic nature of the request that worried him slightly. Generally speaking, land dwellers did not get involved in merfolk politics and vice versa. Then again, he was the Dark One, and political niceties had never yet stopped him from getting right in the middle of some juicy scandals if he thought that there could be a deal in it for him.

He put the shell back to his ear in case he had missed any part of the message, but there was nothing new to be heard, apart from the strained urgency in Maurice’s voice. Yes, this was a deal that it would be better to make sooner rather than later. The merman certainly seemed to be desperate enough.

Rumpelstiltskin took up the shell and made his way up to his workroom and the stores of herbs he kept there. Taking down a large jar of opaque green glass and shaking it, he made a face. He was almost out of kelp, and depending on the nature of this deal and what might be required from him in the search for the princess, he would probably run out before long. Maybe that could be his price. Kelp was always a pain to grow and tended to wilt under the care of anyone who was not by nature aquatic.

Still, he was going to have to use it if he was going to get to the bottom of the case. He gathered up the jar and the conch, stowing them in a leather pouch, and disappeared from the Dark Castle in a cloud of inky smoke, taking himself to the coastline in a matter of moments and procuring one of the small sailing boats that was moored up there. He always preferred to get as close as possible to the underwater kingdoms before diving in. Swimming had never been a favourite pastime of his.

Once he reached the approximate location of Maurice’s stronghold, he eased the stopper out of the jar of kelp and shook out the last few leaves into his palm, tossing them into his mouth and making a face at the sour, salty taste. Still, however bad it tasted, it was a better alternative than drowning or attempting some other kind of magic that would allow him to breathe underwater. Kelp had been cultivated centuries ago by the merfolk in order to allow them to walk on land for brief periods, assisting with trade and dealing with the land dwellers. When it was discovered that it worked both ways, it became a valuable commodity, one that Rumpelstiltskin always seemed to be in short supply of. It really was rather strange how many people came to him for help in communing with the merfolk, and he had no idea why. The seaweed wasn’t greener on the other side, and the kelp didn’t produce any lasting effects.

He supposed that it was to do with the mystery and legends of the merfolk and an insatiable desire to see them close up, first hand, in all their scaled glory. One of the fishermen’s favourite pastimes in the taverns on the sea fronts was to make guesses as to which of the people walking around by the water’s edge might actually be a merperson, as once they took kelp and their legs formed, they were indistinguishable from humans, despite the pervasive legends that they all had green hair and mottled skin. They’d probably tried to push that myth themselves as much as possible to avoid anyone looking too closely at them when they were disguised on land.

He felt the scratching of the dry leaves beginning to take effect in the back of his throat, and he took a deep breath on instinct before diving out of the boat and into the water, pushing through the murky depths towards the stronghold that he knew to be at the bottom.

The water seemed darker than usual, but Rumpelstiltskin was too focussed on swimming to really pay it much mind. Usually, once one had gone deep enough not to be seen from the surface, then the algae and other plant life found in the depths would begin to glow and bring light to the merfolk’s otherwise dim world. Indeed, on the other occasions that Rumpelstiltskin had visited the various underwater kingdoms, he’d found his path lit by myriad weird and wonderful creatures, and there was no danger of getting lost in the labyrinthine sea currents.

This time, however, there was nothing, just the faintest glow of the stronghold that never seemed to get any closer no matter how far he swam. Maurice had the reputation of being secretive, certainly, but this complete darkness seemed suspicious even for him. He certainly wasn’t expecting any visitors, except perhaps Rumpelstiltskin himself.

The waters were choppy, as well, and hard to swim through. Rumpelstiltskin could feel himself tiring and he only hoped that he would be able to make it to the coral citadel and back to the surface before the kelp’s effects wore off. There were several old wives’ tales about merfolk getting carried away enjoying themselves on land and suddenly and unceremoniously having their tails reform when their kelp wore off without them realising how long they had spent out of the water. Rumpelstiltskin had never seen it happen himself, but the idea definitely didn’t surprise him. Unlike a merperson on land, however, who would just be slightly inconvenienced by being unable to move about and would have to rely on some kindly bystander to help them back to the water, a human’s kelp wearing off whilst they were in the underwater world would have a far deadlier effect.

Finally the light seemed to grow, after he’d been swimming steadily downwards for what seemed like an age and more, and Rumpelstiltskin found himself entering Maurice’s stronghold. Two guards armed with tridents came out to meet him, looking suspicious, but once they recognised his face, they let him pass without a word, guiding him through the haven towards the centre, where the merfolk nobility were gathered with Maurice.

“My Lord,” one of the guards said. Rumpelstiltskin gave a low bow as the chief merman turned to him, although the effect was somewhat marred by the fact he kept floating a couple of inches off the sea bed. He really did hate doing deals underwater.

“I see you received my message, Rumpelstiltskin.” Maurice came over to him with a great deal more grace than Rumpelstiltskin was able to display, and he waved away the rest of the people who were gathered in the place. “I was hoping that you would come. This really is a very strained situation that we’ve found ourselves in. If Belle isn’t found, then it could spell disaster.”

“As anxious as I am at the fate of your crown princess who has been kidnapped by malefactors as yet unknown, I do fail to see how this is such a political disaster. I mean, you do lose face with your neighbours, having your daughter kidnapped from the stronghold right under your nose. It doesn’t say a lot for your security.”

Maurice looked rather uncomfortable, and Rumpelstiltskin was more convinced than ever of there being something else at work.

“Well, perhaps the part about her being kidnapped wasn’t entirely truthful,” he said sheepishly.

“So she left of her own free will?”

“Yes.”

“You have proof of this?”

“She left a note to tell us that she hadn’t been kidnapped. The problem is that we don’t know where she headed after she left the stronghold.”

“I don’t suppose you have any idea why she would leave in a hurry giving you no indication of where she’s gone?” Rumpelstiltskin asked, not making any effort to hide the sarcasm in his voice. Merfolk who had been cooped up in strongholds for their entire lives without the chance to stretch their horizons were naturally going to get itchy fins and want to explore the world above the water. It was a common enough story.

“Well, this is where the political aspect comes in,” Maurice began awkwardly. “I did mention that it was an extremely delicate matter in my message,” he added. “I trust that I can have your discretion in these dealings?”

“When it comes to dealing with the Dark One, dearie, trust is something you really shouldn’t give away,” Rumpelstiltskin said slyly. “Besides, we haven’t made a deal yet. You’ve told me what you want from me - in the vaguest of terms - but I’ve yet to receive anything in return for my not insubstantial services here.”

“What would the price be for finding my daughter?” Maurice asked. Yes, he was definitely desperate.

Rumpelstiltskin held up the green glass jar. “I’m out of kelp. I used up my last grains to get down here to see you, so I hope you’ll appreciate my need for more if I’m to assist you any further.”

“Of course, of course.”

Maurice motioned to one of the guards who had remained at the entrance to the stronghold and issued instructions for a large batch of prepared kelp to be brought. Rumpelstiltskin inspected the quality and gave a satisfactory nod. That would keep him going for a while now.

“So will you find my daughter?” Maurice pleaded.

“Yes, yes, I’ll locate your princess for you. But first, I’d really like to know what’s at stake if I should fail in my quest. You see, if the princess left of her own accord, then there’s no guarantee that she would want to come back, you see.”

Maurice sighed. “She’s probably run away to avoid her impending marriage.”

“I see. One of those situations.” Rumpelstiltskin shook his head. “When is the ceremony due to take place?”

“One week from now. Her betrothed is the heir to my neighbouring kingdom; they’re not yet aware that Belle is missing. The story of the scale merchants has been spread in case word of her disappearance spreads beyond our borders.”

“I see.” Rumpelstiltskin paused. “There’s more though, isn’t there. A jilted fiancée is certainly a diplomatic nightmare, but you’re genuinely afraid of the consequences should your dear Belle not be found. Yes.” Rumpelstiltskin looked around at his surroundings, wading in a very ungainly manner towards the table in the centre of the stronghold. There was no getting around it, although Maurice quickly swam around to try and intercept him. It was definitely a war table. Maurice and his mermen were preparing for some kind of conflict.

“I noticed that your kingdom was very dark on my way down,” he said casually. “Everyone in doors with the lights off, staying safe from any wayward attackers that might come as a pre-emptive strike. The waters are disturbed indicating recent violent activity on your boundaries. Unless I’m very much mistaken, you’re preparing for a war, Sir Maurice.”

Maurice sighed, sinking into his chair with an air of defeat.

“The other kingdoms have been circling for a while now,” he said. “The marriage arrangement between Belle and Gaston is a peace treaty. If she fails to honour it, then I dread to think what will happen to these waters.”

“I see.”

Things were becoming clearer in Rumpelstiltskin’s mind. An arranged marriage between two parties, neither of whom were likely to have had any say in the matter and one of whom had had the good sense to get out whilst they could. A marriage that, should it not go ahead, would quite likely doom Maurice’s small kingdom.

Why did people always think that marrying people off was the resolution to conflict?

“Tell me, Sir Maurice,” he began. “If you truly think that a union of your two kingdoms is the only way to prevent a war, why do you not marry this Gaston yourself, rather than forcing matrimony on your daughter?”

Maurice’s mouth opened and closed like a fish for a while, completely unable to think up a suitable response to Rumpelstiltskin’s taunt. As amusing as it was to watch him flounder, Rumpelstiltskin knew that his time was running out and he had no desire to use up any more of the precious kelp that he’d just received as payment in order to keep needling the lord.

“Is your daughter aware of the possible consequences for your kingdom should she fail to honour her marriage contract? From what I’ve heard of her already, she seems to have a sensible head on her shoulders so I am assuming not.”

Maurice shook his head. “No, Belle is not aware of the peace treaty tied into the betrothal contract.”

“I think that might have been a slight oversight on your part if you wanted to stop her running away,” Rumpelstiltskin pointed out. “Nevertheless, I will find your daughter. You have my word of that.”

“Thank you.”

Rumpelstiltskin grabbed his kelp jar and swam away from the coral. He really didn’t like dealing with the merpeople on their own territory; it was very hard to be graceful and intimidating when you had to wade through the place on legs that were not designed to work their best underwater, and he had no desire for the merfolk not to take him seriously because he looked ridiculous whenever he visited them.

He returned to the boat just as the effects of the kelp were beginning to wear off, and he looked down at his sodden clothing with distaste, drying himself off with a wave of his hand. It was hardly a trivial use of magic, he reasoned, since he didn’t want to catch his death of cold before he could get back to the Dark Castle. For a long time, he lay in the bottom of the boat, getting his breath back from the tiring swim up from Maurice’s lands.

Belle had left the stronghold to get away from her arranged marriage. If she had any sense, which, considering she’d decided to take matters into her own hands and escape the life that was being dictated to her and she’d left a note, she seemed to have, then she would have headed straight for the one place that Maurice would be very unlikely to follow her: land. Even inside the stronghold with no contact with the other waters, it would be hard to miss the signs of a society on edge and she wouldn’t have sought refuge in territory belonging to other underwater royalty.

Land was definitely her best bet. Rumpelstiltskin realised that he should have asked Maurice if she’d taken any kelp with her, and he was annoyed with himself that he hadn’t. Still, working on the principle that she had taken to land, it would be fairly easy to track her down. She couldn’t stay in a human form forever, so as soon as she made land, she would be looking for a body of water to get back to, a river or lake where she could lie low and stretch her fins.

The only problem, of course, was that there were quite a lot of rivers and lakes in the Enchanted Forest and he didn’t want to have to go and visit all of them.

Rumpelstiltskin directed the boat back towards the shoreline, still pondering how best to find where the runaway might have gone. If she didn’t want to be found, then she’d be staying inland as much as possible, so she’d probably be moving between lakes, rather than rivers that would eventually open out into the seas and allow merfolk to, if they had enough determination, swim upstream to get her. It was rare for them to leave the sea, preferring salt water to fresh, but considering the stakes, Maurice might make an exception if it meant getting his daughter back and forcing her into a peace treaty. Idly, Rumpelstiltskin wondered what Gaston thought of the arrangement, but he soon dismissed the notion. Gaston was not the one who had run away, therefore he was probably completely content to be suddenly thrust into matrimony with the conspicuously absent princess.

He reached the shore again and decided that it would be best to return to the Dark Castle before he began the next stage of his task. He was going to need a very large map.

She couldn’t have that much of a head start on him, although merfolk could move remarkably fast on land considering it wasn’t their primary habitat. Rumpelstiltskin thought that it must have something to do with the water pressure being so much heavier at the depths they usually lived at; by the time they got out into the open air they must feel so light they were in danger of floating away.

He sat back in his chair, looking at the large map of the Enchanted Forest that was spread out over the great hall table in front of him, large crosses marked through the lakes that he had already checked. He had begun near the coast and fanned out, coming further inland towards the mountains and the Dark Castle itself.

It would have been perfectly easy to find her with magic. All he would need would be an item of her possession and a simple lost and found potion that would direct him towards her. It could have been over in a matter of moments, and he might yet resort to that. For the moment though, he had no desire to return to the sea, and he thought that it might do Maurice good to sweat for a day or so. It served him right for using his daughter as a peace treaty without her knowledge.

He leaned forward and surveyed the map again, tracing his fingers over the lines of the rivers and the outlines of the lakes. There were areas at the edges of the map that had not been charted properly and it was possible that Belle had gone in that direction, but Rumpelstiltskin didn’t think it likely. She would want to stick to known areas for fear of running into something that she couldn’t handle, or of running out of water. He’d never known what happened to merfolk if they regained their fins whilst still on land without a nearby body of water to jump into, but he assumed that it wouldn’t be pleasant for them.

There had been no reports of a mermaid sighting near the sea, so she was obviously concealing herself well.

A sudden thought struck Rumpelstiltskin and he pin-pointed the exact area on the map where he believed he would find his runaway. A lake far away from communities that might recognise her as a mermaid and make enquiries; a place with the same cold and heavy water that could be found deep in the ocean where she lived, a home away from home where she could lie low for a while. It was quite a way from the sea, but if she’d managed to hop on a carriage travelling along any of the main trade routes, she could have made it in good time.

And if she had come out of the ocean with something in mind other than simply running away from her arranged marriage, then this would be the perfect place for her to come.

Rumpelstiltskin jumped out of his chair and grabbed his coat, heading out of the Dark Castle and through its grounds, down towards the lake at the very edge of the property. It was so wonderfully ironic that after being called in as a last resort by Maurice, Rumpelstiltskin would find his daughter practically on his doorstep.

Well, provided that his hunch was correct. As he neared the lake, there were no obvious signs of it being inhabited by a mermaid. Still, they were by nature underwater creatures. If she was comfortable in the depths then there was no reason why she shouldn’t be able to stay there for a very long time. It wasn’t as if she had to come up for air, after all.

Rumpelstiltskin sat down on the bank, the jar of kelp beside him. He really didn’t want to go for a swim to investigate his own lake. Maybe there was another way he could find out if Belle was there. There wasn’t all that much for merfolk to eat in the lake; she’d get rather bored of the same vegetation.

A small part of him kept needling, telling him that he had absolutely no proof that Belle had ended up in this particular lake of all the lakes that she could have ended up in. Technically he had no proof that she had even made land. It was just a hunch, one that so many years of deals and dealing with human nature - and indeed merfolk nature - had taught him not to ignore. If there was one thing that Rumpelstiltskin knew, it was people. If she came ashore, then Belle would be alone and she would, at some point, be desperate. Even the merfolk knew who to go to when they were desperate, as Maurice had just proved himself.

Rumpelstiltskin grabbed a pebble and skimmed it over the surface of the lake, watching it sink in the centre. If there was anything in the lake then perhaps he could annoy it into showing itself. Admittedly, throwing rocks into the depths might not be the most sensible of ideas considering that he had never been sure himself what was lurking in there, but he figured that a fireball to the face would deter even the most irate of water dwellers enough to buy him enough time to get away.

There was no sign of anything stirring in the depths, so he skimmed another pebble, watching it sink below the surface in the centre of the lake. Still no response, not even an angry fish. Rumpelstiltskin was privately beginning to lose a little faith in his theory that Belle had ended up in his own lake, although if asked he would never have admitted it, and he picked up a final pebble. Third time lucky. If there was no sign of any activity after this one, then he would give it up as a bad idea and return to the castle for stage two of the plan.

Before he could throw it, however, he noticed something in the middle of the lake. The top of a head and a pair of eyes were watching him from above the waterline. As soon as he looked over, however, they vanished below the surface again, leaving no ripples, no indication at all that the water had been disturbed. That was a disadvantage to dealing with merfolk. If they were in the water and he wasn’t, then they could sneak up on him unannounced with ease. At least there was no chance of him being snuck up on from behind, and with the pebble still in his hand, he focussed his gaze on the lake, trying to work out where the mermaid - provided that it was the mermaid he was expecting and not some other more sinister creature from the deep that he had managed to disturb with stone skimming - would pop up next.

He would admit to being rather alarmed when she surfaced silently right beside him, again only lifting her head out of the water enough to show her eyes, and he almost dropped the pebble on her head in surprise. Having let out an ungainly squawk of alarm, he shook himself, tossed the pebble over his shoulder and tried to pretend that the entire thing had never happened.

“Can I help you?” he asked politely.

The mermaid rose in the water a little, up to her scaly shoulders. If this was indeed the runaway princess, then Rumpelstiltskin could quite see why her father would want to get her back. She was very pretty, with long dark hair and blue eyes that matched the colour of the scattering of scales he could see over her skin. Yes, she would certainly make quite the catch for the person she had been betrothed to. Ironic really. Usually wars were started over beauty, not ended by it.

“I don’t know,” the mermaid said. It was definitely Belle, she shared the same accent as the others in Maurice’s kingdom. “I’ve come in search of the Dark One.”

Rumpelstiltskin jumped up to his feet and bowed low. “You have indeed found him. And who, may I ask, are you?”

Belle gave a little smile. “Names have power.”

“They certainly do.” He liked her already, not that he hadn’t felt a definite admiration for her ever since he had learned about her flit from the stronghold. She would certainly be interesting to match wits with.

“I get the feeling that you know my name already, though,” she said. “Since you knew I was here in the lake. Unless, of course, your dropping pebbles on my head was entirely random. Since you brought kelp with you, though, I’m not convinced.”

“You’re a shrewd one,” Rumpelstiltskin remarked. “It’s rare for me to find one of your kind who comes ashore to speak to me. You usually prefer to stay within your seas.”

“I think a lot of us are afraid of exploring the world of the land-dwellers,” Belle said, a cheeky grin on her face.

“But not you, Crown Princess Belle of the Marchlands Stronghold?”

“Not me, Rumpelstiltskin. I told you that you knew my name already.”

“And it appears that you know mine, as well.”

“Oh, I think more people know your name than you think.”

Rumpelstiltskin sat down on the bank again.

“So, what is it that you seek?” he asked. “We may as well get down to business, since we both know who we are. What is the deal you want to make?”

A permanent life on land, perhaps, to get her out of her betrothal. Can’t get married to a merman and live in the sea if you’re a human. It wouldn’t be the first time that merfolk had wanted to make such a deal, and he wondered if she fully accepted the consequences of a permanent change of species.

Belle shook her head. “I don’t want to make a deal.”

“No-one comes to see me without a deal in mind, dearie.”

“I don’t want a deal,” she pressed. “I want advice on how to get out of a deal, actually.”

Rumpelstiltskin chuckled. “Made a deal you didn’t understand, Princess?”

She glared at him, blue eyes narrowing, and there was steel in her voice when she spoke.

“I wasn’t the one who made the deal,” she said. “I’m just the one who has to live with it now that it’s been made.”

“I assume that you’re talking about your engagement to the no doubt dashing Gaston, prince of your father’s neighbouring kingdom.”

Belle scoffed. “‘Dashing’ is hardly the word that I would use. Boring, oafish, boastful and arrogant, yes. Dashing, definitely not.”

“I see. You’re opposed to the match.”

“I have no desire to get married to someone not of my choosing. I have even less desire to get married to Gaston, of all people. I’ve made my opinion of him perfectly clear to my father many times, and look where that got me.”

“Yes. Swimming in the Dark One’s lake trying desperately to get away from matrimony whilst your father spins unconvincing stories of your kidnap by scale merchants.”

Belle raised an eyebrow. “Is that really the rumour he’s spreading?”

“Oh yes.” Rumpelstiltskin leaned in a little closer. “I think you may, by now, have worked out how I know your name and your circumstances.”

“My father asked you to come and get me.”

“In a manner, yes.”

“I’m not going back.”

“I never said you had to.”

“My father made a deal with you.”

“Yes,” Rumpelstiltskin said levelly. “Your father made the deal. Not you. I am not in the habit of forcing young ladies to go to places against their will when they’ve made no deals to that effect.”

Belle’s eyes were still narrowed, sizing him up, testing his veracity and trying to work out if there were any loopholes in his words that would have him bundling her up into a sack and sending her back to the ocean at a moment’s notice. Seeming to have judged him to be benign, she pulled herself up onto the bank beside him, leaving her tail dangling in the water. There was a silver shimmer to the blue scales now that she was out of the water and he could see her better, and Rumpelstiltskin noticed that she had a delicate reed pouch tied around her waist. No doubt it held the kelp that she’d used to gain legs and get this far on land.

“Isn’t your deal with my father to retrieve the runaway daughter and return her, contrite, to face the rest of her miserable life under the sea?”

“No,” Rumpelstiltskin said. “That might be what your father wants, but if that’s what he expects, then he should have been more careful about how he worded his request.”

Belle looked at him, intrigued. “So what is the deal that you made with him?”

“I said that I would find you,” Rumpelstiltskin said.

“I still fail to see how that differs from my interpretation.”

“Well, from my point of view, my part of the deal is complete.” Rumpelstiltskin picked up the pebble that he had tossed aside and skimmed it over the surface of the lake. “I have found you. You’re right here. You can’t deny that you’ve been found.”

“No, I suppose I can’t.”

“If your father wanted me to find you and bring you back to the sea, then he really should have been more specific about that,” Rumpelstiltskin mused. “People so often forget the importance of wording.”

“So you’re not going to take me back?”

“No. I have found you. My task is complete. You’re free to do whatever you wish to do now. Whether you choose to go back of your own accord is another matter.”

“Considering that I came to you looking for advice on getting out of the arrangement, I’m hardly going to return to honour it of my own free will.”

“What about if I told you that the safety of your father’s kingdom is in danger if you don’t return to honour the marriage contract?”

“What?”

It was clear from her reaction that she had not known about this before. She was horror-stricken, looking back over her shoulder towards the open sea, many miles away now.

“I take it from this that you were not aware that your father has disguised a peace treaty with his neighbours as a marriage contract for you?”

“WHAT?”

Rumpelstiltskin had seen a lot in his many years in the Enchanted Forest and on excursions to other realms, but he didn’t think that he had ever seen anyone quite as incandescently furious as Belle was at that moment.

“I can’t believe… How could he… That’s blackmail!” She smacked Rumpelstiltskin on the arm with webbed hand and surprising strength. Rumpelstiltskin grabbed his arm, rubbing the sore spot, and he inched away from her in case she hit him again.

“Whatever happened to the old adage of ‘don’t shoot the messenger’,” he muttered.

“So you might not be tasked with actually returning me to my father but you’re going to make sure I go anyway!” Belle yelled.

“No-one is making you go anywhere,” Rumpelstiltskin pointed out.

“I can’t leave my people to be slaughtered because my father was stupid enough to write my hand in marriage into a peace treaty!”

“It is, as you say, your father’s stupidity, not yours.”

Belle just gave him an incredulous look. “You really don’t get it, do you? There are hundreds of merfolk in that kingdom and they’re going to suffer because of this. If the only way for me to prevent a war is to go back and get married, then that’s what I’m going to have to do, isn’t it? I can’t just leave them to go to war because I think that what I want is more important than their wellbeing.”

“You’re very willing to sacrifice your happiness to ensure that your father suffers no consequences for his actions,” Rumpelstiltskin observed.

“Are you even listening to me?” Belle exploded, and considering she was sitting down on the edge of the lake, her body language was still ferocious. Merfolk could move through water silently and without making any ripples; they were that in tune with their surroundings. Belle’s tail, however, was not just making ripples but huge great foaming waves that were disrupting the surface of the not insubstantial lake and splashing Rumpelstiltskin head to toe. “This isn’t about my father! I couldn’t care less whether he suffers for his actions or not! How many times do I have to tell you that there are innocent people down there! My father will stay holed up in the stronghold, he’s safe!”

She was so vehement and passionate in her defence of her people; it didn’t matter that a minute ago she had been vowing never to go back and fulfil the contract, now that she knew the dangers involved, she had put aside her own desires, determined to help her people no matter what. She’d make a good ruler; Rumpelstiltskin thought, before realising that if she was married off into Gaston’s family as a peace offering, she’d no longer be crown princess of Maurice’s realm and she’d never get the chance to lead people in her own right.

“Perhaps that’s not the only way that you can help your people and get your father out of the sticky situation that he’s managed to get himself into,” Rumpelstiltskin said. The more he thought about it, the more a plan began to form in his mind.

“How?”

“Well, we’ve already established that my deal with your father has been fulfilled,” Rumpelstiltskin said. “So any deal that you make with me yourself would not stand in opposition to that.”

“You want me to make a deal with you?”

“No-one comes to me without a deal in mind,” Rumpelstiltskin repeated. “It might not be the deal you originally came to make, but if you think hard enough, I’m sure that you can think of something. Just be careful with your wording.”

Belle was silent for a long time, looking out into the depths of the lake. Rumpelstiltskin wondered what she could see in there that he couldn’t see himself.

“What would you want from me?” she asked eventually. “I know that a deal requires give and take on both sides.”

“That would depend entirely on what you want from me,” Rumpelstiltskin said. “All magic comes with a price, and it’s not one that I pay lightly. The greater the magic, the more precious the payment I extract for it.”

“Can you prevent a war between my father and Gaston’s?”

Rumpelstiltskin tilted his head on one side, pondering the various different methods and outcomes he could employ. He’d stopped wars before in his time, indeed, he had been rather famous for it back in the time of the first ogre wars, but preventing one before it happened was far more difficult and a diplomatic nightmare.

“That depends,” he said. “You’re going to have to be a bit more specific.”

Belle rolled her eyes. “Is there a way for a peace treaty to be made that doesn’t involve me having to marry Gaston?”

Rumpelstiltskin snapped his fingers. “Now you’re talking. Peace treaty, no marriage. Yes, I think that can definitely be arranged.” He giggled, tapping his fingertips together. “Are you sure that you don’t want to come back to the sea to witness your father’s expression when I break the news to him?”

Belle shook her head. “No. I’d rather not tempt fate. Besides, we haven’t made the deal yet. You haven’t told me what you’d want from me in return for facilitating a peace treaty.”

“Well, no merperson can deny that their fin scales are extremely valuable to sorcerers like myself. And they’re far more potent when given willingly by the owner of the scales, rather than taken forcibly by scale merchants.”

Belle nodded slowly, still cautious. “How many do you want?”

“I am currently in need of five for particularly difficult potion,” Rumpelstiltskin said. “But if I were to require any more in the future, I would hope that I could call upon your assistance to provide them.”

Belle ran a hand over the smooth scales of her tail, bringing it completely out of the water and stretching it out on the bank.

“I supply you with scales as and when you need them, and in return, you facilitate a peace treaty between my father and Gaston’s.”

“Yes. But remember that the deal is open-ended, dearie. You would be agreeing to provide me with your scales forever.”

“So presumably, you would want me to stay close by.”

“Not necessarily,” Rumpelstiltskin said. “Just as long as I always knew where to find you.”

Belle shook her head. “I don’t think I would take kindly to being tracked like an animal.”

“In that case, you would have to stay here. You’re welcome to the lake, and if you want to explore the land, then there’s the kelp to give you legs for a while.”

Belle looked down at the jar, and out across the lake. It would certainly be different for her, stuck in a lake when before she’d had the entirety of the open sea.

“My people would all be safe?” she asked.

Rumpelstiltskin nodded. “You have my word.”

“Then you have mine. Five scales for your potion now, and whenever you need them in the future. You won’t track me, but I will always come back to the lake.”

“And how do I know that you won’t run off?” Rumpelstiltskin asked.

“I think the prospect of war back home is enough of a deterrent, don’t you?” Belle said icily. “If I have to trust your word, then I think you should trust mine.”

“I always keep my word,” Rumpelstiltskin said. He was almost offended; he thought that was one of the things about him that always preceded his reputation, but apparently not in this case.

“And I always keep mine, as long as it hasn’t been given for me.”

She opened the little reed pouch around her waist and took out a pearlescent knife made from a shard of oyster shell, and she very carefully prised five little scales off her fin. The skin below was pink, but it didn’t bleed. Rumpelstiltskin snapped his fingers to summon a vial for them, and she tipped them in, but did not give them to him, instead holding out an elegant webbed hand for him to shake.

He took it.

“The deal is struck.”

Belle handed over the vial with her fin scales and looked at him expectantly.

“So, are you going to do something about the peace treaty now?”

“In good time, my dear. There’s no threat imminent at the moment. I’ll head out later this evening; I’ve found that merfolk tend to be more agreeable to listening to reason once darkness falls.”

Belle thought about it and shrugged. “I guess we are.”

She placed the shell knife back in her little pouch and took out a small bag shaking out a couple of grains of kelp into her hand and swallowing them.

“What are you doing?” Rumpelstiltskin yelped.

“Well, you’ve got the scales you want for now, and if you’re not going to go out and see my father until the evening, then that leaves us with the entire rest of the day to occupy ourselves,” Belle said plainly. “If this is going to be the place where I’m based for the rest of forever, then I want to take a look around the place from slightly closer up than just looking at it from the lake, and since I have the ability to do that, I don’t see why I shouldn’t.”

“I suppose I can understand that,” Rumpelstiltskin began, but he gave a shrill squeak of alarm as Belle’s body began to transform, her tail splitting painlessly into legs and the scales that covered her receding into human skin. Very lovely, very bare human skin that she wasn’t showing any signs of feeling uncomfortable in. He quickly looked away, and he heard Belle chuckle as she got to her new feet.

“Honestly, Rumpelstiltskin, anyone would think that you’d never seen a naked woman before.”

“I…” He turned back to her indignantly, realised that she still didn’t have any clothes on and that now she was standing up he could see even more, and looked pointedly out over the lake.

“There’s usually a little bit more warning,” he muttered. Belle just laughed, light and musical, and he had to admit that it was the first time he had heard her sound carefree throughout their entire interaction. Before she had been wary, indignant and angry, but now that she had the assurance that her people were going to be safe, a different side of her could come out.

“You trust me,” Rumpelstiltskin stated.

“I know seven different ways to drown you slowly,” Belle replied blithely. “Not trusting you and not being scared of you are completely different things. I may not trust you yet, but I don’t fear you.”

“I can’t decide whether you’re very brave, or very foolish.”

“A bit of both,” Belle replied enigmatically. “You can turn around now, you know. I’m decent.”

Rumpelstiltskin duly turned around. Belle was wearing a short tunic made of a filmy, light-blue material that barely managed to scrape the definition of decent, but he was determined not to make a fool of himself in front of her again, not when she had proved to be such an interesting conversation partner. She was definitely going to start laughing at him soon.

“Where did that come from?” he asked. Belle tapped her reed pouch.

“It’s sea silk,” she said. “It folds up very small.”

With that, she started picking her way away from the lake, up towards the dark castle, and Rumpelstiltskin scrabbled to keep up with her. She was very confident on her legs considering she hadn’t had all that much practice on them yet, but there was the occasional wobble in her ankles when she put her foot down, and Rumpelstiltskin found himself darting out to catch her elbow whenever that happened. The first time she snatched her arm away, but the second time she let him guide her.

“I think it’s down to the lack of shoes,” Rumpelstiltskin said sagely, although he knew that it was nothing of the sort and he knew that they both knew that, but Belle just gave a huff of laughter. “I’ll get you some if you like, if you’re planning on making more trips on land.”

Belle opened her mouth as if she was going to protest, then shut it again and gave a slow nod.

“I think I’d like that,” she said eventually.

They spent the rest of the day going around the castle and the grounds, until Belle had to return to the water and the sun began to set, and Rumpelstiltskin knew that it was time for him to go and fulfil his end of the deal that he had struck with her. Taking the jar of kelp with him, he made his way back to the shoreline and stepped into the same boat that he had taken out into the deep waters before when he had made his first trip to Maurice’s kingdom.

It was just as dark and murky as it had been before, and the tension in the disturbed waters was even more palpable than it had been previously. Rumpelstiltskin smiled to himself slyly, if things had escalated so much, then Maurice would be eager to agree to his proposal. And as like as not, so would his expansionist neighbours once Rumpelstiltskin had put his plan into action.

He reached the stronghold and the guards let him through without question this time. Maurice was pacing the room, in as much as a merman could pace, casting glances over at the war table every few moments.

“Well?” he said anxiously once he saw Rumpelstiltskin approaching. The Dark One bowed; he was really going to have to practice bowing underwater if he was going to get many more calls from the merfolk to solve their problems.

“I have found your daughter,” he said.

Maurice gave a visible sigh of relief, but then his brow furrowed as he looked around.

“Where is she, then?”

“Oh, she’s not here,” Rumpelstiltskin said flippantly. “She’s inland, she’s found herself a nice little lake to live in.”

“We made a deal!” Maurice exclaimed. “You said that you would find her!”

“And I did find her,” Rumpelstiltskin pointed out. “I found her in a lake. As far as I’m concerned, the deal is fulfilled. You asked me to find your daughter and I did just that. No mention was made of me bringing her back here to you. You ought to have been more specific.”

“Can you bring her back?” Maurice asked desperately. “If you want to make a new deal then we can give you more kelp.”

Rumpelstiltskin wrinkled his nose. “No, I think I have more than enough kelp to see me through for a while thank you. And besides, I have already made another deal, and I do believe that any deal you make with me will negate the one already made. It’s a first come, first served system, dearie.”

“What other deal?” Maurice asked. “Do you even understand the precarious position that you’ve put me in here by returning without her?”

“I rather think that you put yourself in this position actually, Maurice,” Rumpelstiltskin said. There was a hard edge in his voice now, and Maurice noticed it immediately. This was no longer the trickster speaking, but the maker of hard and fast deals that no-one dared to try and get out of. The merman didn’t try and argue the point, and Rumpelstiltskin continued.

“I have made a new deal with your daughter.”

“She’s betrothed to Gaston!”

Rumpelstiltskin rolled his eyes. “Not that kind of deal, dearie. Honestly, heads in the gutter, the lot of you. I can assure you that marriage is not on my list of priorities at the moment. No, your daughter, who, I might add, has far more common sense than you do, has made a deal that will ensure your and your people’s safety, so I would be grateful to her if I were you. Gratitude doesn’t usually take the form of making someone marry someone else against their will as part of a giant political cover-up.”

Maurice looked abashed. “So what do you receive in return for this peace?”

Rumpelstiltskin tutted, wagging a finger at him. “You don’t get to know the ins and outs of someone else’s deal, dearie. Now, since the choppy waters around signal that time is of the essence, shall we hammer out the details of a peace treaty that doesn’t revolve around matrimony?”

He clapped his hands together and instantly the seas around the stronghold became much calmer than they had been before. The guards who had been on duty at the entrance looked down at their empty hands which had, until a moment ago, been holding long, sharp spears.

“Instant disarmament is one of the best ways of resolving conflict, don’t you agree?” Rumpelstiltskin asked Maurice benignly. “So much less bloodshed and shouting involved. Now, just one more piece of the puzzle missing.”

He snapped his fingers and another merman appeared in the stronghold, completely disorientated and looking rather distracted. This must have been Gaston’s father and the other participant in the ongoing aggressions. The two merfolk looked at each other, then at Rumpelstiltskin, then at the war table.

“Well go on then,” Rumpelstiltskin said impatiently. “Are we going to negotiate a peace treaty or aren’t we? I’d like to make at least some progress before this kelp runs out and I have to report back to Belle that her father failed miserably at basic diplomacy.”

Maurice and Gaston’s father both looked rather cowed, and within a few minutes, discussions had started in earnest. Rumpelstiltskin gave a satisfied smile. It never ceased to please him just how much could be accomplished by sheer audacity.

He turned to leave, confident that even if an agreement wasn’t reached today, then the lack of armaments on both sides would keep the peace until it could be reached permanently, and Maurice came over to him.

“Wait, Dark One, before you go…” He was still looking sheepish. “Is Belle all right? Is she going to come home?”

Rumpelstiltskin considered the question.

“I leave that entirely up to her,” he said. “Although, I must admit that her reaction when I told her just what was at stake and how you’d managed to place the entire fate of the kingdom on her head without her knowing it, well, it was a beautiful thing to behold. To be honest, I think it might be better all round if she doesn’t come back for a while, Maurice. She certainly doesn’t seem to be in a forgiving mood right now.”

Maurice’s shoulders slumped, and he went back to the table where discussions were still underway. Rumpelstiltskin left the stronghold. Belle would be free to come back to her father if she wished, as long as she still upheld her end of the deal and provided him with the scales he needed when he needed them, but he got the impression that she would not be returning for some time. She had already made no secret of her desire to explore, and there was a lot of world out there to be explored. She was headstrong and independent enough to survive out there, and she always had the Dark Castle lake to come back to as a base. If she had the sense to run away from her marriage and follow her own path, then she would definitely be fine on her extended adventure now she had the opportunity to truly follow it.

Rumpelstiltskin was surprised when he returned to the Dark Castle to find Belle inside it, sitting on the table in the main hall swinging her legs, and he tried and failed miserably to show it.

“How did you get in here?” he exclaimed.

Belle shrugged. “For an all-powerful sorcerer you really don’t have any concept of locks. Anyone can walk in.”

“No they…” Rumpelstiltskin tailed off. The castle was enchanted not to admit intruders whilst he was away from it, but since he had effectively made the castle and its grounds into Belle’s new home, it recognised her as a resident and would let her in as and when she chose.

“So,” she continued, her voice expectant. “Were you successful?”

Rumpelstiltskin nodded. “As promised, your father and the rest of your people are safe.”

She smiled widely, jumping off the table and making her way towards the doors.

“Thank you. I guess I’ll see you around, Rumpelstiltskin.”

She darted in and pecked a kiss of gratitude against his cheek, and Rumpelstiltskin could only stand there, dumbfounded, as she slipped past him, out into the grounds and back down towards the lake.

It was definitely the beginning of something. Rumpelstiltskin wasn’t quite sure what it was yet, and he wasn’t altogether sure that he liked it, but he knew that with the introduction of Belle into his life, things were going to be very different.

The first thing that Rumpelstiltskin noticed was how much time Belle spent inside the castle. She always went back to the lake at sundown to rest her tail and sleep in the depths, but more often than not, he would find her inside at some point during the day, either investigating all the human nicknacks that he owned, or stealing cookies from the kitchen. He was beginning to regret introducing her to human foodstuffs, but he had been correct in thinking that lake vegetation wasn’t going to sustain her forever. He wouldn’t have minded as much if she hadn’t decided that his favourite cookies were also her favourite cookies, and she kept taking the last one.

He had completely underestimated the merfolk’s capacity for enjoying the sweet treats that were unavailable to them under the water, and he accepted that he was going to have to stock up on cookies for the foreseeable future.

All in all, though, disappearing food aside, Rumpelstiltskin quite enjoyed having Belle around the place, and she had proved useful to him in more ways than simply providing the odd fin scale for his potions. Her knowledge of the underwater world and all the magics that were in place there far outstripped his own, and all the various legends - true and otherwise - of powerful sea witches that Rumpelstiltskin might want to form alliances were very good to know should the need to take sides ever arise.

He had become so used to catching glimpses of her around the place that when he didn’t see her for a couple of days, he began to get worried. He knew that he shouldn’t really worry too much, after all, he had told her that she could leave the castle grounds as long as she always returned to the lake, and it was perfectly natural that she would want to explore the wider world. Still, he wondered if perhaps the reason was because she had run out of kelp. With her being out of the water so often, she must have been eating up her supply pretty quickly.

Rumpelstiltskin looked over at the glass jar that held his own stash, and sighed. It was a precious commodity and he really shouldn’t be sharing it when he had no idea where his next deal might come from or where he might be required to go with it, but at the same time, he had to admit to himself that he missed Belle. Maybe it was time for him to go and visit her in her underwater domain for once, rather than them only ever meeting on dry land.

Taking the jar with him, Rumpelstiltskin made his way down towards the lake, getting halfway there before turning back and going to retrieve the cookie jar as well. She couldn’t very well eat the cookies under the water, but perhaps he could persuade her to sit on the bank with him for a while. He missed the little conversations they had, sharing details of life on land and under the water and getting to know each other’s cultures and stories.

He reached the lake and settled on the bank, and in an impulsive move, he took his boots off and dabbled his toes in the water. It was cool and refreshing, and for a while he could well see why Belle had agreed to stay in the lake. The scenery was beautiful, and he didn’t take as much time to appreciate it as he always used to.

“Oh, hello there.” Belle’s head had popped up from below the surface a few feet away from him and she looked surprised to see him there. “I wasn’t expecting you to come down here, Rumpel. What brings you to my humble lake?”

“Technically it’s my lake,” Rumpelstiltskin protested. “And I don’t think it’s at all humble, thank you very much.”

Belle just giggled. “You haven’t answered my question. Were you missing me?”

“Of course not!” Rumpelstiltskin was incredibly flustered; he’d only just managed to admit to himself that he missed her, he couldn’t be admitting it to her as well. “It’s actually been very quiet and peaceful without you sneaking around the castle knocking over the suits of armour.”

“That was one time! I didn’t know that it was going to move on its own. Naturally, I was startled!”

“Excuses, excuses. Anyway, I haven’t missed you stealing all my cookies.”

“Is that why you brought the cookie jar with you?” Belle asked, eyeing the treats. “Getting withdrawal symptoms of having all your cookies stolen?”

“No, I was more concerned that you might be having withdrawal symptoms having gone for two days without any sugar, considering the amount that you’ve been eating over the past few weeks.”

Belle laughed, but nevertheless, she pulled herself up onto the bank beside him and snaffled a cookie, nibbling it delicately.

“So…” Rumpelstiltskin began, creating ripples in the water with his feet as he tried to phrase his question casually. “What adventures have you been on these past few days whilst you haven’t been eating my cookies?”

“Oh, I haven’t been anywhere,” Belle said. “I’ve been right here in the lake the entire time. I guess I must have lost track of the days. I’ve been busy working on a new project.”

Rumpelstiltskin raised an eyebrow. “A new project?”

“Yes.” Belle finished her cookie and grabbed the kelp jar, holding it out to him. “Come and see.”

“Can’t you show me from here?”

Belle rolled her eyes. “No, or else I would have done so. Come on, it’s not like there’s anything in the lake that’s going to eat you. I’ve spent enough time in here to have worked that out.”

“You might eat me,” Rumpelstiltskin protested, and Belle just shot him a look.

“I’ve been living here for months and you haven’t noticed that merfolk are vegetarians?”

“You might be the exception that proves the rule!”

It was a stupid argument, one that wasn’t really an argument but just an excuse to needle each other in the easy way that they had developed over the past weeks of interactions in the castle.

“Just come on,” Belle said, sliding back down into the water and holding out a hand to him. “You’ll want to see this, I promise.”

Not entirely convinced, Rumpelstiltskin nonetheless swallowed a grain of kelp and jumped into the water after Belle.

The water in the lake was much clearer and nowhere near as deep as the open sea had been, and it was easy to see where Belle made her home, on the lake bed in a little alcove decorated with pebbles and shells and some other implements that he recognised as having been taken from the Dark Castle, and it was cushioned with reeds and other plants from the lake. She’d certainly made it her own, and it made Rumpelstiltskin smile to see how she had accepted this as her home and made it into her place.

“Do you like it?” Belle asked.

He nodded. “It’s very you.” It did remind him of her, with the eclectic collection of pretty things that she had found on her expeditions around the castle and grounds.

“I’m glad you approve of my redecorating. But that’s not what I brought you down here to see. Come on, it’s not too much further.”

They continued to swim along the lake bed, away from Belle’s home, and then Rumpelstiltskin saw what he was supposed to see.

Belle had created a little underwater garden, dividing the sandy lake bed up into squares with various little sprouts poking out.

“I thought that this might be of particular interest to you,” she said, pointing out some bright green shoots in one corner. “Soon you’ll have as much kelp as you need, without having to make deals with the other merfolk to get it.”

Rumpelstiltskin just gazed at her handiwork for a while. He would see why it had taken her away from the castle for a couple of days.

“It’s wonderful, Belle,” he said.

She beamed. “I’m glad you like it. I’ve got water vervain and willowreed as well, and soon there’ll be lilies. The seaweed didn’t take, it needs salt water.”

“Where did you get all these sprouts?” Rumpelstiltskin asked.

“I brought them with me,” Belle said simply. “I didn’t know where I might end up when I left home, so I decided to bring a little bit of home with me, so that wherever I made my new home, I would always have a little part of my old one to remind me.” She paused, and she looked over at Rumpelstiltskin with a smile that was a little shyer than usual. “I’m glad that my home ended up being here with you.”

“You don’t want to go back to the sea? To your father?”

She shook her head. “I’ll go back and visit him, at some point. When I’m not quite as angry with him. But really, I don’t think I’ve ever had any desire to stay in the sea. I’ve spent most of my life in the stronghold and there’s so much more world out here to discover. I’d rather stay here in the lake and use it as my base for exploring the rest of the world.”

“So, you’re happy here? With me?”

Belle nodded. “Yes. I would say I was happy. What about you? Are you happy with a mermaid living in your lake and stealing all your cookies?”

“Maybe not the cookies.”

“But you enjoy the company?”

The trouble with being in the water and significantly less mobile than the mermaid who was designed to be in the water was that he couldn’t really gracefully get away from her. Every time he tried to avoid the question, she simply swirled up through the water beside him again.

“It’s a big castle for just one person,” she said sagely. “You know, I think that when you made that deal to get me to stay here, you were lonely.”

“Having company has been… pleasant,” Rumpelstiltskin admitted. He didn’t have his own loneliness in mind when he had first made the deal, but now that he thought about it, he had grown to enjoy Belle’s company more and more, to the point where he had sought her out in the lake in order to enjoy her company again.

Belle smiled, and she brought one hand up to touch Rumpelstiltskin’s face. The feathery webbing between her fingers tickled his skin, but he didn’t flinch away. Here in the cool water, her usually cold hands felt warm to the touch, and he was still marvelling at the change when her lips pressed against his, a little tentative, with the air of just seizing the moment and going for it.

He returned the kiss readily. He hadn’t even realised until this moment just how much he had wanted to kiss her, but as he did, everything began to fall into place. He had been falling in love with her, and he either hadn’t noticed or had subconsciously pushed the thought to the back of his mind. It was impossible. They were two entirely different species, for a start.

But they were still kissing, and Belle’s arms were around his neck, pulling him closer, and he found himself kissing his way down over her jaw and neck, feeling the texture of the light scattering of scales on her skin against his lips. It couldn’t work, and yet he really didn’t want to stop kissing her.

Eventually he pulled away, as much as he could with Belle’s arms still around him, and he shook his head.

“Belle, I, you, us… We can’t.”

“Why not?” Belle asked. “If we both feel this way, which I think we do, then why can’t we do this?”

“I’m a human.” Rumpelstiltskin looked down at himself and his own strange skin. “Well, as good as one. You’re a mermaid. We’re slightly biologically incompatible for a start. We live in different worlds. You’re meant for water. I’m meant for land. We could hardly have a life together.”

“Isn’t what we have already a life together?” Belle asked. “We don’t have to spend every moment of time together to know how we feel about each other.”

It was a very good point. Despite their differences, they still spent time together, both in the castle and out here in the lake. There was some adaptation involved, and a lot of kelp, but soon, thanks to Belle’s garden, they would have a steady supply of that, and it would help them to live in each others’ worlds together.

“You’re right,” he said. He wished he didn’t sound so surprised by the fact, but he was more surprised with himself for not seeing it rather then with Belle for suggesting it in the first place.

“And as for biological incompatibility, well, I think I might have a solution for that,” Belle continued.

Rumpelstiltskin raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

Belle shook her head. “Not yet. In a little while. Let’s not move too quickly.”

Rumpelstiltskin had to agree. It was a revelation in itself, there was no need to complicate things any further by moving through the stages of this brand new relationship at a breakneck pace. It was probably best to let them get used to the idea of being together and the logical challenges that they would face before becoming more intimate. Although, the thought that they would become intimate at some point in the future stirred a little frisson of excitement in Rumpelstiltskin’s veins, one that he had not felt for a very long time. The very possibility of finding love again, even in these most unusual of circumstances, was new to him, and whilst he couldn’t help thinking that everything would go horribly wrong like it had done in his previous relationships, the fact that Belle seemed so confident about their ability to adapt gave him a little bit of hope that perhaps wouldn’t have been there previously.

She was certain that they could work things out, and he already knew how headstrong and determined she could be. If she thought that they could make this relationship work, then they would be able to make this relationship work.

He kissed her again, and Belle welcomed him readily, and they stayed locked in their underwater embrace until Rumpelstiltskin felt the effects of the kelp wearing off, and he had to return to the surface. Belle followed him up.

“I’ll see you in the castle tomorrow?” he asked as he pulled himself out onto the shore, waving a hand to dry off his clothes.

Belle smiled.

“Of course. I wouldn’t want to miss my daily dose of cookies, after all.”

Rumpelstiltskin rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers, disappearing the jars he’d brought with him back to their respective homes.

“Good night, Belle.”

“Good night, Rumpel.”

There wasn’t too much change to their routines after that momentous decision was made. They would still meet up in the castle, or Rumpelstiltskin would go down to the lake, and they would still spend that time together when Rumpelstiltskin wasn’t out dealing, but now there was far more kissing involved, and far more hugs and gentle touches now that their feelings were out in the open and being explored to their fullest potential.

Although he was more than happy to wait until Belle was ready to move their relationship forward, Rumpelstiltskin still found himself wondering precisely how it was going to work. He loved Belle, he loved kissing her, and he wanted to make love to her, but the logistics of it seemed to be impossible to reconcile.

True enough, when Belle was out of the water, she had legs and all the necessary bits between them, like any normal human woman had. After all, he had seen her naked human form when they had met that first time. The issue was that it was not Belle’s true form, and he didn’t want the experience to be strange or in any way lesser for her because she was not in her natural form, especially as he knew that this would be her first experience and he wanted to make sure that it was a good one for her.

Merfolk were not meant to keep their legs for a long period of time, just as humans were not supposed to remain underwater for extended lengths. It seemed that having a satisfactory intimate relationship would be completely impossible.

He didn’t mind if their relationship remained celibate. There were many other ways for them to express their feelings for each other without the need for anything of that sort, but he couldn’t help noticing that there was a brightness in Belle’s eyes, and in addition to the cookies, some of the Dark Castle library had been going missing, turning up a couple of days later with slightly damp-stained edges. Belle had been consulting various works, and looking at the books that she had been consulting, she definitely seemed to be interested in pursuing further passions than they already shared.

There wasn’t anything particularly special about the day that it happened. They had been sitting in the main hall, taking tea together, Belle sitting on the table as was her habit. She liked to swing her legs as they talked, and Rumpelstiltskin realised that it was the same motion that she moved her tail in when she was sitting on the banks of the lake. One thing led to another, and before Rumpelstiltskin could protest, Belle had dropped off the table into his lap, her arms around his neck and her mouth on his, her kiss deep and fierce and possessive. Rumpelstiltskin could only melt into it, pulling her in close and opening his mouth readily for her. There was a cheeky little smile on her face as she broke away.

“I think I’m ready now,” she said.

“Ready for what?” Rumpelstiltskin asked. He was still a little stunned from the force of the kiss, so he thought that he could be forgiven for being somewhat slow on the uptake.

“To show you how the biological differences between our species shouldn’t be a problem.” Belle slipped off his lap and held out a hand to him. “Are you coming?” She paused. “I know that we could do it here, in your bed, and maybe we can do that next time.”

Next time? They hadn’t even had a first time and Belle was already thinking about a next time. Somehow that made the pressure just a little bit more present.

“I just think that it’ll be better in the water,” she continued.

Rumpelstiltskin gave a slow nod, and took Belle’s hand, letting her pull him up out of his chair and lead him out of the castle, down towards the lake. The sun was high in the sky in a clear afternoon, and the surface of the water was perfectly calm as it glittered in the light.

Rumpelstiltskin came to a sudden realisation and turned back towards the castle.

“I forgot to bring the kelp.”

“You won’t need it,” Belle said. “We’ll stay in the shallows, you won’t need to go underwater.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I’m very sure, Rumpel. I don’t think I’ve ever been more sure of anything in my life.”

They had reached the bank, and Belle toed off her shoes before slipping out of the sea silk tunic that she wore when she was on land. Rumpelstiltskin had gifted her a few more items of clothing to wear whilst she was out and about exploring the human world, but she always tended to come back to the simple tunic whilst she was around the castle and its grounds.

Her human form was lovely, and she turned to him without any degree of embarrassment. Now that Rumpelstiltskin could look at her at leisure and up close, he could see the faint silvery lines marking her skin which showed where her tail and the other scaled patches on her body would normally begin. It gave her beauty an otherworldly feel, and reminded him that Belle was so much more than a human in that moment. She giggled, watching him gawp at her unashamedly, then reached out to begin undoing the buttons on his waistcoat.

“Now, I’ll admit that I don’t know quite as much about human courtship rituals as I do about those of my own people, but I have read enough to know that you’re wearing far too many clothes for this, Rumpel. I really think you’ll be more comfortable if you take them all off.”

Dumbstruck by her confidence but nonetheless incredibly aroused by it, Rumpelstiltskin let Belle undress him, her fingers working his buttons deftly and his waistcoat and shirt swiftly being discarded. She fumbled on the lacings of his trousers; sometimes he forgot that she was used to having webbing between her fingers and they were not as flexible as they might otherwise have been, and he used a touch of magic to divest himself of the rest of his clothing. His cock was half-hard already, and Belle running a featherlight finger along his length had him twitching eagerly, ready for whatever might come next.

“Come on in,” Belle said. She slipped down into the water, scales shimmering over her body and her tail forming almost as soon as she entered the lake, but she kept her head above water, paddling until Rumpel was in the water as well, crouching in the shallows, the water up to his chin. The cool water was a nice contrast to the warm sun, and he didn’t think that Belle could have picked a better time or place for their first time together.

Before he knew it, Belle was back in his arms, kissing him with a passion that promised much more of the same to come. Her hand came back down to his cock, and the delicate touch of the light webbing on her hands was unlike anything he’d ever felt before. Rumpelstiltskin threw his head back with a groan; if she kept this up then he was never going to last long enough for them to get anything done, however Belle was going to do it.

“Belle,” he gasped. “Belle, my love, how are we going to do this?”

“Have you never wondered how merfolk make love to each other?” Belle asked.

The question brought him up short, because he had never given it any thought at all, and he couldn’t see why he hadn’t thought about it. It was certainly true that both male and female merfolk had tails and no visible genitalia, but he’d focussed so much on the logistical problems caused by him being a human and Belle being a mermaid that he hadn’t given any thought to how Belle might interact in this way with her own kind.

“No,” he said. Belle gave him a little smile.

“Don’t go anywhere,” she said.

With that, she dived under the water, and was soon gone from sight, down into the depths of the lake. Rumpelstiltskin wondered what on earth she could be doing down there, but then she was back, a few strands of bright green vegetation in her hand. Rumpelstiltskin recognised it for what it was; fresh kelp pulled straight from her lake bed garden.

“I don’t suppose you’ve noticed that when we take kelp to get legs, we always wait until we’re out of the water before we take it, have you?”

Rumpelstiltskin shook his head.

“It has a slightly different effect when we use it underwater,” Belle said. “There’s a reason why it’s such a staple commodity in merfolk communities. No matter where you go in the seas, there will always be a constant crop of fresh kelp growing.”

She sank beneath the surface again and through the clear water, Rumpelstiltskin saw her swallow the kelp.

The change was gradual at first, and he didn’t really notice it, but then it became clear that something was happening to Belle’s tail. Rumpelstiltskin took a deep breath and ducked his head under the water so that he could see better, and he almost gasped and choked at what he saw.

Belle’s legs were forming from her tail, just as they had done on land, but they were still scaled like her tail was, with fins instead of feet. He had to come up for air, but everything was falling into place now.

Belle surfaced again, and came in to kiss him deeply, wrapping her arms and fins around him. Rumpel chanced to skim his hands down her scaled sides and dip between them, finding Belle’s sex, a strange mixture of smooth and scales but ultimately a familiar shape. She gave a moan of arousal as he touched her, running his fingers along her folds and finding her entrance, dipping inside to find her warm and slippery.

“Oh Belle,” he breathed, kissing along her neck and shoulder. “You’re exquisite.”

“So are you,” Belle replied. Rumpelstiltskin was half-tempted not to believe her, he knew what he looked like and the water wasn’t doing anything to obscure that, but the wonder in her voice was genuine, and the compliment stoked the fire that was already running through his veins. He kissed his way back up to her mouth and she captured his lips once more, her hands coming down to his hips beneath the water. She was rutting up against his hand, and Rumpelstiltskin shifted in the water to keep his balance and be able to keep touching her. Aside from the texture of her skin, she was formed in just the same way as a human woman, and as he rubbed his thumb over her swollen clit, the little gasp she gave made him certain that she was feeling all the same sensations as a human.

“Is that good?” he asked, wanting to make absolutely sure. “Do you like that?”

“Oh yes, Rumpel, yes. I like that a lot. Do it again, please.”

He rubbed her pearl again, and Belle moaned, her fingertips digging into him, and her fins quivering on either side of his body. He pushed a finger up inside her channel, continuing to rub her. She was still so slick and slippery inside, despite all the water around them; it must be an adaptational quirk, and it was one that he was very grateful for. Belle moaned again, her forehead dropping down against his shoulder as he kept on touching her, and he guessed that she must be getting close.

“Feels good,” she panted, “feels so good, please don’t stop, please, Rumpel, please.”

“Whatever you want, my love.” Rumpelstiltskin pressed another finger up inside her and Belle keened, her hips rolling and the edges of her fins creating ripples in the water as she moved.

He felt the moment that she came, clutching at his fingers and squealing with delight as she rode out the high. For a while after he pulled out he just rubbed at her gently, and Belle panted against his shoulder.

“You know, I’ve been reading about this, but nothing really prepares you for the real thing,” she murmured.

Rumpelstiltskin gave a huff of laughter. “No, I suppose it doesn’t.”

She stayed flopped against him, safe in his arms, for a few more minutes, but then one hand trailed down his chest towards his cock, stroking him back to full hardness again.

“Feels good?” she asked. Rumpelstiltskin nodded, speechless, biting his tongue to try and stop him coming there and then in her hand. The texture of her skin, the light scaling and the delicate webbing, really was something else, unlike anything he’d ever felt before.

“That feels very good,” he said.

“Do you think that it would feel better inside?” Belle asked. There was a cheekiness to her voice, but when Rumpelstiltskin finally managed to open his eyes and look at her, there was a little blush rising in her usually pale face, a touch of pink behind the smattering of blue scales there, and she was biting her lip.

“If you want to, then I am sure that would feel heavenly,” he said.

Belle nodded, wrapping her fins around his body again and letting him take the lead, grabbing his cock and lining them up.

She did feel heavenly; hot and tight and slick all around him. With the buoyancy of the water, he didn’t have all that much leverage to thrust, and he held onto her hips.

“You move, sweetheart. You set the pace.”

Belle nodded, her hips beginning to roll a little, and Rumpelstiltskin closed his eyes. He didn’t think that he had ever been this close to a woman when they’d been intimate before, either physically or emotionally. Belle was clinging to him like a limpet, her arms and fins wound tightly around his body and her face buried in his neck, pecking messy little butterfly kisses to his skin, and he never wanted her to let go of him.

Her pace was slow, staying at a level where she was comfortable with him inside her, and Rumpelstiltskin could feel his orgasm building in the depths of his belly, everything so achingly drawn out and languid, like the sweetest torture imaginable. He was so very close, teetering on the edge and desperate for release but at the same time never wanting it to end.

“Belle!”

It did end, though, with both of them holding onto each other so tightly it was a miracle that they were able to let go. Neither of them spoke; there wasn’t anything to be said that couldn’t be conveyed with kisses and caresses at that moment. At length Belle unwound her fins, and Rumpelstiltskin slipped his softening cock out of her, and he noticed that her tail was beginning to reform into a single fin.

“I guess that’s definitely one way to overcome the biological incompatibilities,” he said eventually, and he felt Belle smile against his skin where she was curled up against his chest.

“I told you that there was a solution,” she murmured.

“You did indeed.”

“And it’s not the only solution,” she said. “Now that we’ve done it once, I think there might be all kinds of creative solutions that we can try. The books you have in your library are very informative, and there are several things I’d be interested in adapting to our particular situation.” One hand snaked back down to his cock again. “I imagine it must be quite the sensation to be kissed down there by a woman who doesn’t need to come up for air.”

Rumpelstiltskin gulped at the prospect of Belle using her mouth on him, and underwater no less. It was certainly something that he wasn’t going to say no to if she decided that she wanted to try it. He wondered if he could return the favour; there was nothing to say that they both couldn’t take some kelp and enjoy themselves in the depths of the lake.

In fact, the more he thought about it, the more the wealth of opportunities that their unique situation gave them presented itself. Instead of limiting them, it would give them all kinds of things to explore that they otherwise wouldn’t be able to if Belle had been a human.

It was with a little reluctance that he had to extricate himself from Belle’s arms and get out of the water for fear of turning into a prune, but the sly little smile on Belle’s face as he knelt on the bank to kiss her au revoir told him that as soon as she had recovered, she would be following him into the Dark Castle to continue their exploration.

Despite the rather unusual start to their acquaintance, and despite the undeniable difference in their species, Rumpelstiltskin knew that the love they shared was genuine, and it was one that they were going to enjoy for a long time to come.

#may day menagerie #avatoh #rumbelle fic #maydaymenagerie #rumbelle #Rumpelstiltskin #Belle French #mermaid!Belle

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ryik-the-writer · 6 years

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May Day Menergerie for @nropay!! It’s also a remix to my Mer!Rumple series based off @foxmurphey’s artwork. It’s not nearly as long as I wanted it to be but I did my best to accommodate all you asked for. I hope you like it and Happy May Day!

A03

-,-,-,-,-,-

“Come on Papa!” the little merman called out to his father who immediately held a finger up to his lips.

“Quiet Bae,” the older merman warned gently, glancing around the empty clump of beach. Looks were deceiving however, as he had learned the day he first met Belle.

He and Bae had first met Belle one day when she had stumbled onto the beach. It was a bit odd to see a human in this section of the beach. No one ever came to the small cove the mermen had called their home for a little over a year now. It was too far from the loud docks and eateries the humans thrived on, and the waves were too low to satisfy the ones who brought their giant boards.

Rumple, despite both his and his son’s curiosity, had made them move on, and considered leaving the town once and for all. The day Belle had fallen off a boat and nearly drown had been the point that everything in their quiet, inactive lives changed. Upon taking her back to the cove to recover, Belle had taken to their existence surprisingly well. Rumple had been weary at first, having had a bad experience with a human in the past and not knowing if Belle was trustworthy. He had to protect his son after all.

But Belle had proved herself an unofficial mermaid in no time, and soon she was a permanent part of their lives. She went on adventures with them, helped them nurse the injured birds and sealife back to health, and brought them treats during each visit.

“There she is!” Bae said excitedly, gliding to where Belle was setting up on the beach. She heard Bae and her face nearly split in two.

Rumple felt the familiar flutter in his chest at the sight. His son must have sensed it, as he glanced back and gave his father an all-knowing smirk.

“You like her, don’t you papa?” Bae had asked him one night as they watched the waves descend.

“Of course,” Rumple answered safely. “She’s much different than other humans.”

“No,” Bae scoffed. “Really like her.”

Rumple knew what his son meant and knew that he did indeed feel something for Belle. How could he not? She was so caring, so intelligent, and just saying her name filled him with a deep-seated adoration for her.

But soon, reality would sink in, and he was reminded that he, a merman, could never be with her.

However, he refused to think about it and instead focused on the present, and in the present Bae was gliding into Belle’s lap, so comfortable in her arms, as he searched eagerly through her bag for today’s treat.

“Bae, manners,” Rumple reminded his son as he glided to Belle’s side.

“It’s fine Rumple,” Belle chuckled as she ruffled Bae’s waves of curls which were starting to grow over his eyes.

Bae was in his fifth year now, and still had the innocence and wonder of a young one. Unlike his father, he didn’t have a blemish on him, a reminder that the world had been good to him. The fin of his seaweed-green tail was still intact, and would hopefully remain that way for the rest of his days.

Bae gasped in delight when he found Belle’s treat.

“Gummy worms!” he exclaimed, ripping the package open with his sharp teeth. He had been weary to eat the sugary insects the first time Belle had brought them to the mermen. Worms were a last-result meal for merfolk, and were often dangerously pilfered off the hooks of fishers. Once Belle told them that these kinds of worms didn’t crawl back up, they instantly rivaled with pudding as their favorite snack.

Belle managed to fish out a few before Bae dug in and offered one to Rumple. His fingers graced against her palm as he took it and they gave each other a shy smile.

“Belle?”

Belle nearly chocked on her candy and frantically looked around for the source of her name. By the time she turned back around, Rumple and Bae were already swimming safely to the cluster of rocks just off the cove, just close enough that they could hear the greetings of the new humans.

“Papa…” Bae’s tiny voice squeaked.

“It’s okay son,” Rumple whispered as he and Bae ducked behind the rocks. Belle didn’t betray them, he told himself repeatedly. She couldn’t have. Someone must have seen her. That by itself was a problem, but they’d get to that later.

“Stay down,” he told him gently, peaking out from behind the rocks to see three humans carefully making their way down the sand dune.

One was an obvious male and was carrying a load of supplies. The other human was wearing a flowing skirt, but their hair was short and black, something Rumple wasn’t used to seeing on a human female. The last human was small, about Bae’s size, and had long blond hair that bounced as she ran into Belle’s arms.

Belle glanced to the rocks as she picked the child in her arms, giving Rumple an apologetic half-smile before turning back to the humans.

“Mary Margaret, how did you know I was here?” Belle inquired to the dark-haired human as the blond one squirmed from her arms. Mary Margaret and David were visiting Storybrooke for Emma’s summer vacation. Belle was supposed to be entertaining them, but when they had announced that they were going to go see the sites she took the opportunity to visit Rumple and Bae.

“Your car was around the corner, we thought we’d come see what you were up to.” she explained as she took a few of the blankets from her husband’s arms and spread them over the sand. “Oh it’s beautiful out here, and so quiet. I see now why you keep sneaking away—Emma, sweetie, don’t go out too far!”

The little blonde glanced back at her mother before skipping through the low waves.

Mary Margaret sighed as her husband finally dropped their things. “Kids.” She chuckled.

Belle nodded absently, annoyed that her friend would just show up but more worried about Emma as she got closer to the rocks. The tide was too low. If Rumple and Bae swam away now, they’d be seen, and she knew from years as Mary Margaret’s friend that she couldn’t keep a secret to save her life.

Rumple kept a hand on Bae’s shoulder as the little splashed further into he water.

The merman looked over to assure his son that everything would be alright but found the boy staring at the little girl with wide-eyed wonder.

“Papa, what is that?” Bae whispered.

Rumple followed his line of site to the human child as she splashed further into the water.

“A human, Bae.” He answered quietly. “Just like Belle.”

“But…she’s so small.” Bae said.

Rumple looked the small human over. “She’s about your age.”

“Wow.” Bae said, his voice rising slight from the awe.

Rumple and shushed him, glancing up to find in horror that the little human was staring directly at them. Behind her was Belle, wide-eyed and pale. The child’s parents were too busy setting up their things to take notice of the wonderous event happening between their daughter and the creatures of legend.

Emma however didn’t seem afraid. She didn’t try to alert her parents of them. She simply raised her small hand and waved at them.

Rumple stayed completely still. Even if she was just a child, new humans were still untrustworthy. And loud.

“Bae, let’s move.” Rumple whispered so quietly he wasn’t sure if the words had come out at all. He looked down at his son to motion him away, but found Bae crawling closer to the human. Rumple glanced frantically back at Belle.

Belle calmly waddled out to the rocks where Emma was, turning a reassuring smile to the parents.

“Hey,” Belle greeted when she climbed onto one of the rocks.

“Look Aunt Belle!” Emma shrilled. “Fish people!”

Belle shushed her, glancing back long enough to make sure David and Mary Margaret were occupied.

“Yes sweetie,” Belle nodded, softening her voice for the five-year-old. “Their called mermen.”

“Hi mermen!” Emma greeted so loudly Belle’s heart nearly stopped.

“H-hi.” Bae greeted, more awestruck that fearful. His pale cheeks turned a tinted pink when Emma giggled.

“Their friends of mine. But there also my secret.”

Emma turned away from the petrified mermen long enough to give her god-aunt a pointed look. “Mama says it’s not right to keep secrets.”

“You’re mom would say that,” Belle sighed, rolling her eyes before she got explained the situation in a way a five-year old would.

“Sweetie, do you remember when I went on that fieldtrip with you to the aquarium?”

Emma nodded, her eyes fixed on Bae.

“And you remember that whale we saw in one of the tanks and how sad you said he looked?”

Emma looked at her aunt, wisdom filling her big green eyes.

“The whale was sad because the scientists to put him in the tank took him from his home. If someone finds out about Rumple and Bae…that could happen too.” Belle said, her eyes meeting Rumple’s worried one’s.

Emma turned back to the mermen, her eyes searching them.

“Which one of you is Bae?”

Bae raised his small webbed hand.

“Good,” Emma said, crossing her legs on the rock. “We’re going to be friends.”

“W-we are?” Bae squeaked.

“Mmm-hmm,” Emma nodded. “Best friends.”

Rumple and Belle exchanged surprised looks at the little girl’s gumption. Belle had to hold back a smirk.

“Belle, Emma?” Mary Margaret’s voice echoed to the rocks.

Belle stiffened, remembering the situation at hand.

“So you promise…to keep your new friend safe?” Belle asked.

“Yeah,” Emma agreed with a toothy smile.

Rumple sagged against the rocks in relief. Another day, another disaster averted.

Bae smiled in return, intrigued by this smaller human.

“We better go,” Belle said, noticing when both Bae and Emma’s faces fell.

“Agreed,” Rumple nodded. “Thank you, Belle.”

Belle smiled before picking up her god-niece and waddled back to shore.

“Mama I a new friend!” Emma exclaimed, causing Belle to wince. So much for keeping secrets.

“That’s nice sweetie. Come here so I can put more sunscreen on you. You’re turning brown already.”

“Aw mama!” Emma whined as her mother smeared the thick paste on her shoulders.

Belle chuckled and looked back at the rocks. She could see the torn fin of Rumple’s golden tail peak out from the water as he and Bae swam away. She sighed, exhausted but optimistic for the future.

If she brought Emma out here more often, she and Bae could make friends while her and Rumple spent a bit more adult-time with each other.

She really didn’t see the harm in that.

#maydaymenagerie #may day menagerie #may day menagerie 2018 #rumbelle #rumbelle au #rumplestiltskin #belle #baelfire #emma swan #swanfire #salt water #mer!rumple #ryik's fics

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thecompletebookworm · 6 years

Text

Where the Sea Takes You

A very happy @maydaymenagerie to the incredible @findingtallahassee, who is an absolute saint and was far too willing to put up with me.

This is very loosely based on the Adaro, a little bit of Solomon Islands' mythology. Basically I've made the Adaro more humanoid, allowed them to be any gender, and veered away from the definition where it is just the evil part of a person's soul that is trapped on Earth terrorizing others while the rest of them can pass on. Takes place post 3A, and ignores the Dark One Vault mythology.

Available on AO3 as well.

This was a stupid idea, an absolutely crazy stupid idea. She skirted around the edge of the water, being careful not to touch it just yet. Though to be fair, Belle had already tried most of the less out there ideas and her heart was aching.

She hadn't stayed too long with the other Storybrooke residents once she was back. If she was going to feel all alone, she might as well feel alone where she felt at home.

Not that it was anyone's fault. The Charmings had an entire kingdom to run and their daughter's absence to grieve. She'd been happy to see Robin again, to play with the little boy who had been saved by a deal made what felt like ages ago. Still, even as she helped with finding blankets and sorting through other supplies, Belle felt empty. Sure she was helping people, and maybe she was being selfish, but right now the only person she wanted to help was her True Love.

She refused to believe he was dead. Even though that was probably the safest assumption, with his dagger through his chest. But Rumplestiltskin had disappeared in a blinding flash of light. His lifeless body hadn't hit the ground. She hadn't cradled it to her chest, her tears soaking into his suit that only in death could look unkempt, as his lifeless eyes stared up at her. While those images had haunted her nightmares, they were not reality. Only his dagger had clattered to the ground.

The others didn't quite see it that way. She didn't need her pitying looks. Her true love was out there and she was going to do everything in her power to find him.

Belle had scoured the Charming's library and then the Dark Castle's. While never one to shy away from research, there was something troubling about especially difficult about hunting down a way to find Rumple with no clues. She could write a better book about the Dark Ones than any of the ones she found, although that was probably by design. She could practically hear Rumple's voice in her head, muttering about wanting to know the monster's weaknesses.

Like she needed a book to do that. Experience had taught her well. While technically Dark Ones do not need sleep, they should not be left working magic for longer than 15 hours at a time if you want a sociable Dark One. Provide cookies at teatime for a smile. Warm patches of sunlight were irresistible when grouchy.

Although looking back, maybe she just knew what made Rumplestiltskin tick, not the dark one specifically.

Belle's foot grazed the water and she jerked it back. She was not going to summon the creature before she was ready, or at least until she had taken the precautions so that she knew she was summoning the right creature.

Belle had found the first mention of the creature when she'd translated some of the ancient Fairy texts. These waters were haunted by fearsome beasts, the Adaro, if she'd read it correctly. At first Belle had dismissed the creatures as just another name for merfolk, but after talking it over with Ariel she decided a little more research was necessary. Ariel had never heard of any merperson with a shark's dorsal fin or a sword extending from their forehead. And the line proclaiming, the Adaro to be affected by the darkest of magic and forced into serving penance, seemed to fit too perfectly.

Her heart had swelled with hope when she had finally found a ship willing to take her to an island in the heart of Adaro territory, but Belle had tried to not let her hope get the better of her. The Adaro were by no means her first theory, failing the intervention of fate, they were her last. She had traveled to countless forests and enough ominous caves to know that just because something worked on paper, there was no guarantee that it would lead her to her True Love.

Belle shuddered in the cool ocean breeze, more from anticipation than anything else really. She moved a few steps further in land to avoid the tide as she pulled the final ingredients to summon the Adaro from her satchel. A lock of her hair, a handkerchief she'd just happened to have in her pocket when they left Storybrooke, a tiny square of leather from her favorite pair of his pants and their chipped cup. Nervously smoothing out the handkerchief one last time, Belle kicked off her shoes and approached the water, her feet sinking into the wet sand.

She closed her eyes and stepped forward. As her toes touched the water, Belle drew forth her last memory of Rumplestiltskin.

"I love you, Belle. You made me stronger." She echoed his last words to herself.

Belle kept walking forward into the sea, the water rising higher and higher up her legs. While she stumbled over a rock on the seabed, she did not open her eyes. When the water reached her chest, she began to drop the items one by one, visualizing Rumplestiltskin as she did so.

The Handkerchief floated for a second before it sank in the murky water, practically glowing under the light of the moon. She thought of when he first found her again and they were headed back from the well in his car. She had started crying silent tears. This world was new and overwhelming but Rumplestiltskin was somehow there with her. He couldn't very well dry her tears while driving but he had pulled out his handkerchief and handed it to her. He'd held her hand the whole ride home, which she now knew from experience, was not the safest idea. But Rumplestiltskin had been a better driver than her and when they made it home in one piece, he had clutched her to his chest and promised he was never going anywhere.

Belle bit her lip, trying to keep herself on the task at hand. As soon as she got him back, Belle was going to keep him to that promise.

The leather fragment was next. He had always looked so good in those pants. She had thought she was coming down with something the first time she saw him in them. Her heart rate had sped and she felt clammy. Looking back it was almost silly how much worried she'd been, but to be fair it was the first real taste of attraction. And she certainly was heartsick in the end.

Her hair, the hair of a lover, was one of the strongest summoners. It was why many deemed this ritual too difficult or risky. The Adaro were supposed to be the most fearsome of men and women in their pasts. Finding a love, or even someone they cared about was supposed to be the most difficult step. But in their case, it had been the simplest ingredient.

Belle turned the chipped cup over in her hand, running her hand carefully over the fractured edge. She had been so worried upon her arrival at the Dark Castle, but even when he was pretending to be indifferent, Rumplestiltskin had known exactly what to say to calm her down.

She finally opened her eyes, the cup still clutched in her right hand. It was hard to see, but she thought she might see some movement in the distance. As the movement drew closer, she saw not one, but nearly half a dozen dorsal fins sticking out of the black water. Belle stood her ground despite every nerve in her body screaming at her to run. The sea captain had laughed at her; called it a suicide mission claimed her gold was just as good as any, but still refused to take payment for the return voyage. Belle understood now. The mere presence of a human, especially one alone and desperate on a moonlit night, would be enough to draw attention to herself, just not necessarily the attention she wanted.

Still the creatures stopped several body lengths away from her. They were close enough that she could see the sharp swordlike point extending from the tips of their heads, but not close enough to make out their faces.

Belle clutched the cup tighter to her chest. Do the brave thing and bravery will follow.

"I'm looking for Rumplestiltskin."

She wasn't sure if they understood her. Still one swam closer to her and Belle's heart picked up. "Rumple," she allowed herself to whisper.

But as it grew closer she could tell it was not. The women, if you could call this Adaro a woman, had long dark brown hair that seemed matted against the small grey scales of her skin. It's twisted expression allowed Belle to see the large fangs bared menacingly at her, head tilted downward so she could strike Belle's chest.

This had been a fool's errand, and now it was going to be all over. Belle squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself for impact. A part of her hoped that she had been thoroughly wrong and just in denial about Rumple's death. Because if he was actually dead, she'd merely be joining him, instead of leaving him cursed and lost somewhere by himself. She heard what she could only describe as a snarl and knew that one way or another she was about to find out. Hopefully, it would be a quick death, a painless one.

But the blow she expected never came. Belle opened her eyes a sliver to see exactly what was taking so long.

Another Adaro had joined the first. They were fighting, heavy tails thrashing around the shallow water, heads turning this way and that to use their swords.

It was with a whine that the black haired Adaro conceded, fleeing back into the small circle. With its opponent gone, Belle was able to get a closer look at her savior.

His hair was shaggy and brown, the ends curling from the salt water. He peered at her with deep brown eyes that she would recognize anywhere.

"Rumple!" she wanted to throw her arms around the creature that was also her husband, but he shrunk back from her.

He didn't remember, couldn't remember in this form. Still she had hope. He was closer than he'd been in months, even if he didn't recognize her. Belle dipped the chipped cup in the water, filling it to the brim before dumping it over her outstretched hand.

His eyes seemed to light up at the cup, although it might just be because it was something new and unfamiliar. He offered her his own scaled hand and did not pull away when she clasped it.

Staring with determination at their interwoven fingers, Belle dipped their cup into the water once again and poured it over them. She felt his grip tighten for a second, before he pulled away. As soon as his hand left hers, she wanted to scream. They were so close. He couldn't leave now.

But soon Belle felt him nuzzling up against her side, almost as if he couldn't get enough of her.

This time she was the one to pull away and a small smile broke out at his whining. But she had only pulled him off his position plastered at her side so she could face him.

"I don't know exactly what is going to happen Rumple. I know before you needed your curse to find your son, and he needs help finding his. But please,” Belle bit her lip. "I don't even know if you can understand me, but let my kiss you. Let me at least break this one. Come back to me Rumple."

She leaned forward and although he didn't pull away, it wasn't exactly the great reunion kiss she'd been hoping for. He was stiff as a board at first, his webbed fingers plastered to his side. But even as she watched, as the grey scales melted into flesh, he grew bolder, pulling her closer and running his fingers through her hair. Belle could feel the tears running down her face, but she didn't stop kissing him, didn't pull away until she absolutely had to.

Gasping for air, she could only stare at her love and try to enjoy the feeling of all the places where his very human body was pressed up against hers.

"You saved me." His face was so full of awe she almost giggled.

"Of course I did. I couldn't very well live my happily ever after without you."

He pulled her in close once again, running his hands down her body, affirming that she was here, that she was real. He could feel her shivering and placed a hand at the small of her back to guide her out of the water.

"And that's exactly what we're going to do, just as soon as we get you into something dry."

Belle gave him a slightly disapproving look. Her soaked white chemise was nothing compared to the fact that his transformation had left him completely naked. "I thought you didn't believe villains got happy endings."

Rumplestiltskin gave a dark chuckle at that. "Let's just say I'm not about to stand in the way of the happy ending of the bravest hero I've ever known, and if she just so happens to be in love with a beast-"

"Madly, madly in love with the beast" Her cheeky grin betrayed the fact that just this once she wasn't going to argue with him over calling himself a beast.

"If she just so happens to be madly in love with a beast, I see no reason to deprive her." Rumplestiltskin kissed her, nearly making her fall onto the sandy shore with the force, but catching her.

"Good. Because my happy ending only works if your get yours too."

"Anything for you sweetheart."

#findingtallahassee #May Day Menagerie #maydaymenagerie #rumbelle fic #rumbelle

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maydaymenagerie · 6 years

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Rumbelle+ May Day Menagerie: The Finish Line

So in the chaos of trying to find another job (or jobs) for the 2018/2019 school year, I completely forgot to keep checking in with the participants...

Umm, tomorrow's the due date. You can start posting at midnight (your time) tonight if you would like to do so. I am hoping that everybody can make their posting on May 1st in celebration of May Day however if you do require more time, please get in contact with you giftee as well as us moderators so that we don't panic about lost Zoo Keepers.

Please remember to @ and tag your giftee and if you could @ or tag this blog that would be great. We are hoping to have the full master list posted within the month of May, depending upon if we have delayed postings. A partial master list will be available starting tomorrow evening when I get back from work.

Thank you to all the participants!!

#may day menagerie #maydaymenagerie #rumbelle fic exchange #rumbelle #rumbelle gift exchange

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justanoutlawfic · 6 years

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Put Your Faith In What You Most Believe In: 3/3

Summary: When Rumpelstiltskin makes a deal with known hunter William Clayton, Belle fears for herself and her kind.

Also on AO3

Belle followed Rumpelstiltskin down the path towards Clayton’s manor. In the distance, she could hear the sounds of the other creatures whining and being tortured. She shut her eyes and stopped for a moment. Being a wolf was both a blessing and a curse. Her senses were always heightened and in that moment, it included her hearing. Rumpelstiltskin put an arm around her.

“We’re going to free them,” he promised.

“How can you hear that?”

“Dark One magic. Now, come on.” He kissed the side of her head. “Let’s go free these animals.”

As planned, when they reached Clayton’s manor, Belle transformed into a wolf. Rumpelstiltskin put a collar on her and tied a rope to it, giving her a sympathetic smile to let her know it wouldn’t be for long. Dropping all formalities, he walked straight into Clayton’s, calling out his name. The man appeared a few moments later, a smirk on his face.

“Well, well, well, looks like you actually managed to do it,” he said.

“I’m a man of my word, now you be a man of your own.”

Clayton shook his head. “Hand over the beast and then you’ll get what you so desire.”

“How do I know that the minute I give her to you, that you won’t destroy the bean?” Rumpelstiltskin took a few steps forward. “I’m not stupid, dearie.”

“Very well.” Clayton reached into his pocket and held out the bean. “Now, the beast.”

They were going to go along with things as planned…until Clayton reached into his other pocket and pulled out some ink, coating the top of the blade. Rumpelstiltskin took a step back, pulling Belle back along with him.

“Is that what I think it is?”

“I told you, Dark One, I’m a collector of all creatures and that includes…you.”

Rumpelstiltskin reached up his hands to use his magic, but at the same time, Clayton had a knife to the wolf’s neck. In the amount of time it took him to zap, he would have Belle’s life. So, he slowly lowered his hands and allowed the coated knife to hit his skin. He fell to the floor, paralyzed in shock.

Belle rushed to his side, still in wolf form and nudged her nose against his face. She wasn’t sure how long the ink would last, but she knew there was no way in hell she was about to let him become Clayton’s next victim. As Clayton grabbed onto her, ready to drag her away, she let out a loud howl.

“No one can save you now, wolfie,” Clayton sneered. “Now, let’s see what you’re really made of. Then, we’ll take care of your little friend, next.”

Belle looked behind at her wounded lover as Clayton dragged her off into the next room. She looked around and saw the source of all of the ruckus. There were dozens of creatures locked in cages, from a dragon to a griffin, even a unicorn was trapped in a larger one than the rest

Roughly grabbing hold of her neck, Clayton threw her on top of the hard oak table. She let out a whine and attempted to bite him, but he slid a muzzle over her mouth. Turning to his rack of tools, Belle began to feel her heart race.

Until she heard the sound of thundering, but it wasn’t coming from the sky. She heard the front door burst open and a moment later, so did the door to the examination room. If Belle could’ve, she would’ve smiled. The entire pack was there. Clayton turned to them and his face turned pale. Even he knew, he was no match for them. To give him credit, he tried. He grabbed hold of a sword, but they attacked.

One transformed into a human and she saw Red, who found Clayton’s keys and undid the muzzle. Belle turned back into her other half and jumped off the bed, leaving her family to do the work. She knew they would free the rest of the creatures in a moment, but she had to check on Rumpelstiltskin.

Running as fast as her feet could carry her, she reached the main room again and dropped in front of him. His eyes were shut and she felt the fear seep into her veins. She leaned in, kissing his lips. A rainbow ripple overcame them and his eyes flickered open once more. He smiled, putting a hand on her cheek.

“Belle,” he whispered.

“You’re okay.” She let out a deep breath. “Thank God.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”

“It’s okay. I went with Plan B.” She kissed him once more. “Come on, my family has Clayton handled. Let’s free these creatures.”

Anita took charge and made sure what was left of Clayton’s body was handled. Rumpelstiltskin used his magic to unlock each and every cage, sending the creatures back into their homes. He watched as Belle leaned into Red, chatting with her about everything and knew what he had to do.

“Well,” he said. “It seems like I’ve gotten my bean after all. Which means, I won’t need anyone to clean up my castle anymore.”

Belle paused. “I suppose not.”

“You’re free to go.”

“Are you going to take the bean to find your son?”

“Of course I am.”

Belle looked from Red to back to the man she had fallen for. “Then, I’ll come with you.”

“Belle…”

“I don’t want to be apart from you, Rumple. I…I love you.”

Rumpelstiltskin’s mouth dropped open and she closed the gap between them, pressing a kiss to his cheek, taking hold of his hands. A slow smile formed across his face.

“I love you too,” he mumbled.

“Well then. What do you say, we go find Baelfire together?”

“I would like nothing more.”

After saying goodbye to her family (and promising that someday they would return), Belle and Rumpelstiltskin headed outside. He held the bean in his fingers, looking at it with great intent.

“So,” Belle said. “How does this work?”

“I just have to think of Baelfire and it will bring me to him.”

“Then, what are you waiting for?”

He smiled at her and gave her one more kiss before shutting his eyes and thinking hard. He threw the bean into the ground and when his eyes flickered open once more, there was an open portal in front of them. Lacing his fingers through Belle, they jumped through it together, ready for whatever the land without magic might bring.

The End

#rumbelle #rumbelle au #May Day Menagerie #maydaymenagerie

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wierdogal · 6 years

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Bridge Towards Home

Hi @lotus0kid,

Here’s the second story!

Summary: The valley wasn't her home, no matter how much the other trolls and Grand Pabbie welcomed her. The bridge she used as a shelter was somewhat her home. The books she gets lost into was the closest thing to a home she could ever had imagined. But then...the Spinner came along.

On AO3

#lotus0kid #lotus0kid zoo keeper #may day menagerie #rumbelle fic #wierdo writes

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zookeeperforworryinglyinnocent · 7 years

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Hey, @worryinglyinnocent

I think you know what this means! It's time for you to tell me what you want for @maydaymenagerie May Day Menagerie! I'm happy to write whatever your heart desires,( even smut if you so wish)! FYI, I'm a bit of a slow writer, but I'm going to try my best and write you something good and I can't do that without your help so let me know what you want! You wrote:

Ships: Rumbelle, Rushbelle, or Macelle

Creature Category: Water or Air

What exact creature were you thinking of? Who's the creature?

What Ship? If you want an obscure one not on the list, I'm willing to watch any movie for the sake of writing. 2 hours is nothing for a cool story.

What do you want happening in the fic? Whhat do you NOT want.

Anything else you would like? Prompts are cool too if you want somthing specific like "It's Valentines day in Storybrooke and Belle is visited by a cupid after continuous failed relationships," or something like "Shape of water AU," I'm not the most creative person and am willing to watch new films if you want an AU or something!

Anyway, can't wait to hear back from you, and good luck with your own writing!

#may day menagerie #worryinglyinnocent #rumbelle

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beastlycheese · 2 years

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What I'm reading today:

Cowtown - Chapter 1 - HandwithQuill - Once Upon a Time (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

Okay so with this title you expect some weird Rumbelle May Day Menagerie kind of smut. And yeah, in this fandom that would be great too, but this beauty is pure romantic fluffy smut with a smattering of humour. Great for when you need a pick me up.

Enjoy.

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little-inkstone · 7 years

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A Spark of Trouble

Prompt/Mythical Creature: Ifrit

Summery: Rumplestiltskin makes a deal he doesn’t fully understand, and it leads to nothing but trouble.

Rating: NC-17

AN: Hi, @ishtarelisheba!!! I was your Zookeeper this year! I’m sorry tumblr ate so many of my messages, but I really liked getting to know you and I hope we can keep talking! Written for the @maydaymenagerie event.

Wearing leather in a hot climate was a mistake, even for someone with as much magic at his deposal as Rumplestiltskin. He could keep himself relatively cool, but the air was stifling in its stillness and the sun beat down unceasingly as he walked through the desert sands. Thanks to the powerful magical wards around the town he was heading towards he couldn’t just appear in a cloud of smoke as he usually would. It wasn’t impossible for him to do so; it would just be a pain and would do nothing but annoy his host. In most cases he would enjoy having the upper hand and rankling the person he was going to make a deal with. That was not the case in this instance.

He was getting ready to come to an agreement with the chief of the ifrit, a proud and stubborn people that were known for both their fire magic and fierier tempers. As much as it irked him he couldn’t simply take what he wanted, it needed to be freely given to him or it would be useless for his purposes. The water the ifrit drank from was said to be enchanted, sparkling and clean no matter what, it was symbol of calm guarded by a people known for the opposite. His future sight had made it clear that he needed some of that water, a flask full would do, but it would be plain water without the permission of the chief.

It was lucky for him that the leader of the ifrit was looking to make a deal and had called for him.

Stopping, Rumple found himself standing in front of several rocks haphazardly sticking out of the sand dunes. He studied the rocks, finding a symbol scratched into the stone. Pressing his hand to it he whispered an ancient word and the stone before him turned to dust, revealing a winding passage the led deep underground.

A taller man would have needed to duck down to enter the cave, but Rumple simply walked in, unable to hold back a gleeful twitter as he neared his prize. The steep stone stairs cut a winding path through the red rock, but soon it opened up to a large cavern with a high ceiling where glowing rocks formed a faux sky. It was a rather beautiful sight, but not the reason he had made his journey. He walked along the streets, careful to hide himself so that none of the ifrit he passed would pay him any mind. With his scales covered by an old cloak he seemed like just another citizen. Since they had two forms, one that was almost human in appearance and another that was made for battle, with grand wings and flaming claws.

The ifrit weren’t hiding, but they weren’t advertising their location either, making it this far would have been difficult for a normal man. So Rumplestiltskin was amused and surprised to find a human in a chalk ring facing off against a young ifrit warrior once he made it to the center of the city where the chief made his home. Townsfolk were gathered around, cheering and booing in turn. Rumple watched as the battling ifrit took to the air, her large wings easily lifting her lithe frame high above the human man.

He smirked to himself, realizing what she was doing before her opponent had a chance. She dropped down like a rock and then swerved before she hit the ground, kicking out and pushing the man from the ring with ease. The crowd burst into applause as the man rubbed his chest and swore, standing and stalking off. Rumple paid him no mind, his gaze fixed on the ifrit woman as she walked to the side of unhappy looking ifrit man. She smiled at him and he sighed and shook his head. At this Rumplestiltskin became more intrigued. He could tell from the way he held himself and how he dressed that this was the chief he was looking for; and it seemed he wasn’t happy with the pretty ifrit that had just bested one of their guests.

Stepping away from the crowd the sorcerer began to clap loudly, drowning out and silencing the other applause until only his could be heard, he dropped his shawl with a twitter “That was quite the performance.” He said to the girl, and then turned to the Lord. “You’re majesty.” He chirped with a low and showy bow. “I believe you wished to make a deal?” To his credit the leader of the ifrits composed himself quickly and nodded.

“Yes.” He replied. “I’m glad you answered my call, Rumplestiltskin.”

“How could I not?” Rumple cooed. “It’s not every day that Lord Maurice, chieftain of the illusive ifrit calls on an outsider.” Steepling his hands he smirked at the leader. “But magic always comes with a price, dearie.”

“Name it and it will be yours.” The chief said easily. “We have gold and jewels to spare, take as much treasure as you wish.”

Rumplestiltskin giggled and danced closer to him. “Oh no, no, no, dearie, I can spin straw into gold and pluck jewels from the air, what I’m after is something much more precious.” He purred.

Lord Maurice’s eyes narrowed; the muscle in his jaw tensing. The previously cool air of the cave began to warm as the two of them stared each other down, neither blinking. Finally Maurice looked away at the ifrit girl still beside him; her form had not changed from that of a warrior. Rumple wondered who she was. A bodyguard perhaps? He banished the thought. It didn’t matter who she was, so long as she didn’t stand in his way of getting the spring’s water.

“What is it you want?” He asked, letting out a defeated sigh, his shoulders sagging heavily.

“Some of the water from your sacred spring, not too much, a barrelful shall do I think.” Rumple casually replied. That was much more then he needed, but this kind of potent magic was useful to have on hand and it would be foolish to bargain for the amount he really needed. The chief was silent for a long moment and then he nodded and snapped his fingers, two guards that had been off to the side immediately stood to attention.

“Collect a barrel of water for our guest.” Then he returned his sharp blue eyes to the dealmaker before him. “You’ll receive your payment once you’ve completed the deal.” He told him.

“Of course.” Rumple purred, trying to hold back how pleased he was, anything this fool asked of him would be easy to do. “What is it you want? Long life? Victory over your enemies? Love?” He said the last word mockingly, a sneer pulling at his lips. So many times he had made a deal with a lord for those things; over the years, no matter their race or creed, people were predictable.

“I want you to find a man that can best my Belle in combat.” The chief said instead, gesturing to the warrior beside him.

Rumplestiltskin kept himself from reacting, but he was mildly surprised, he hadn’t been expecting that when the chief had written to him. His letter had made it seem as if his whole dynasty hung by a thread. He turned his reptilian gaze to the ifrit girl, wondering again who she was. She didn’t seem surprised by her chief’s deal, but she did seem perturbed by it. A frown pulled at her plush lips and her eyes, a bright blue like the leaders, were clouded with unease; a relative then, most likely a daughter. For some reason the chief’s daughter needed to be defeated in combat, so much so that her father would call upon the Dark One.

“Then it seems the spring water is as good as mine.” He giggled with a wave of his hand.

“Do not think I will be so easily bested.” The girl, Belle, replied, her eyes flashing. She drew herself up to her full height to stare him down, and for once in his life he found himself taller than someone trying to intimidate him. Dark One’s didn’t use words like ‘adorable’ but that seemed to be the only appropriate one for this instance.

Smirking he took her in. She, like the other ifrit, had a fire about her, but it was more than just the elusive flames that licked at her hands while she stared him down. Her eyes were alight with a blaze bourn from confidence and awareness of one’s own abilities. The set of her jaw was stubborn but it only enhanced her charming appearance. The form she had taken on was suited for battle; with wings and horns and the subtle shimmer of scales along her cheekbones and bare arms; but he admitted that she was still beautiful.

“We shall see.” Rumple replied simply, stepping into the chalk circle. “Let’s get this over with; I have many more deals to attend to.”

“You’re doing to fight me yourself?” Belle asked, her eyes widening as she followed him into the circle.

“If there’s no objection from the chief?” Maurice nodded and Rumplestiltskin turned to Belle and let out a childish laugh. “It seems not, then let us begin, dearie.”

She nodded and took a deep breath, turning to face him fully. “I won’t be gentle.”

“Perish the thought!” Rumple mocked, pressing his hand to his chest and looking away as if he were offended.

Belle let out an annoyed huff and then lunged forward. He didn’t move, watching her sprint towards him and then fly into the air, her wings outstretched as she hung there for a moment and then began her dive. How predictable. Rumple smirked, and with a flick of his wrist the young ifrit warrior went flying through the air and landed not too far from where he stood. She got to her feet and glared at him, then blanched when she realized she was out of the ring. He'd won.

“You beat me.” She whispered looking down at the chalk mark in the dirt, of which she was on the wrong side. Rumplestiltskin watched as her horns and wings melted away, leaving a very human looking woman behind, if it was possible she was even more stunning then before. Belle shook her head and looked up at him. “A deals a deal; you can have the water, and my hand in marriage.”

It was Rumple’s turn for his eyes to widen, all his years of keeping his true emotions hidden while on deals leaving him as he heard her speak.

“Pardon me?” He squeaked, he must have heard her wrong.

“My hand, in marriage, that’s what you’ve won by beating me, no one could so my father called for you to make a deal. Didn’t… didn’t you know that when you challenged me?” She asked, tilting her head to the side, intrigue filling her blue eyes.

“No, I didn’t, and I won’t marry you, I’ve up held my end of the deal, I’ve found a man that can beat you in combat. Now I shall be taking my water and leaving.” Rumple snapped, ignoring that he could feel his cheeks beginning to heat.

“If you don’t marry her you can’t have the water.” Maurice growled from the sidelines.

“Papa,” Belle admonished, turning away from a still shocked Rumple. “He’s right, he upheld the deal as he understood it, and he doesn’t wish to marry me, you can’t force us.”

“You said you would marry the man that can best you, I have found one, and if he wishes to claim his prized water then he will accept your hand.” The chief growled.

As the two ifrits argued Rumple’s mind raced. He needed that water to find Bae, without it more years would slip through his fingers. It had already been so long, there was no telling if he’d find a boy or a man or a grave when he crossed to the Land Without Magic. Desperation and fear clawed at his heart, reminding him of what he had been before the curse, before the Dark One, if he didn’t get this water now everything would have been for naught.

“I’ll do it.” He said, cutting them off, his voice deeper and more human than it had been in a long time. Maurice smiled in satisfaction and nodded, but Belle just looked at him, her head tilted to the side again. “If you’ll have me, that is.” Rumplestiltskin added, giving her his nastiest smile, showing off his curse yellowed teeth.

He watched her lick her lips and then nod, replying almost breathlessly. “Yes, I’ll have you.”

“Then the deal is struck!” He crowed with fake cheer, clapping his hands together.

It was clear that Lord Maurice had been waiting to marry of his daughter for quite a while, since almost as soon as Rumplestiltskin agreed he found himself attending his own wedding. An Ifrit wedding was different then the kind he and Milah had as poor peasants in the Frontlands. Of course there was singing and dancing and feasting, wine flowed freely, but the vows were different and the pledge they swore to each other made him worry about the kind of deal he had made.

Belle was to live with him, but someday she would rule the ifrit’s and on that day they’d have to return. He was sure when the time came she’d be glad to be rid of her husband in name alone, considering she didn’t seem too enthusiastic about their wedding either. While they held hands for their binding her palms began to heat, at first he thought it was on purpose, some kind of ritual, or perhaps she was punishing him for getting them into this mess, but when he looked into her eyes he could see only nervousness, there was no ill intent there.

That didn’t help him when his hand began to burn, and certainly not when it became so much that he let out a surprised yelp and pulled his hand away from hers. She had just finished her vows, so they no longer needed to touch, but the flare that had come with the last word had been too much, even for his skin protected by magic. If her apology hadn’t been so sincere and the worry in her eyes so clear he might have thought she was trying to burn her new husband to ash. Rumple had heard stranger stories of wives on the day of their weddings doing things to get out of marrying men they had been forced to accept.

When they were prompted to kiss to seal their marriage Rumple swallowed thickly and leaned towards her, watching for any sign of revulsion or hesitation. But Belle’s blue, blue, eyes were still filled with only curiosity, and then nothing as she closed them when their lips met. Everything, it seemed, about his new bride was warm, her hands had almost burned him and now it felt as if he was playing with fire when he kissed her. She didn’t look at him as others did when faced with the Dark One, there was no fear or terror, and he was sure had he ever been forced to marry one of the other woman he’d met in his dealings they’d have fainted dead away rather than lock lips with him. It was heady having someone that didn’t react in such a way after so many centuries of being alone.

As Rumplestiltskin pulled away and looked down at his new bride, her eyes opening, a surprised smile pulling at her lips, he knew he was in trouble.

That thought was confirmed later that night when the feasting and dancing had begun to die down and the marry ifrit were finding their beds. Rumple intended to return home long before this time, but the chief had kept a close eye on him and he’d been stuck sitting at the grand table filled with food, unable to leave without his prized spring water. Belle had sat beside him, and tried to pull as many secrets as she could from him, asking what the home they’d be sharing was like and if he would allow her to travel. Now she wasn’t plying him for words, but rather leading him to her room, the strong wine having gone to both their heads.

He didn’t intend on having a wedding night with his new bride. This was a marriage for the water, for his Baelfire; there was no need to consummate it. He’d told her so as she lead him along the halls, the sky rocks having dimmed to a soft blue that mimicked a night filled with stars and the full moon. In this lighting Belle was even prettier than before, and his addled mind thought he should tell her, but he kept the words to himself. He wasn’t so drunk that he’d begin spouting poetry.

“If you don’t want me we don’t have to do anything.” She whispered, her hand never leaving his. “But we’re both tired and it wouldn’t do for you to sleep somewhere that wasn’t my room.”

Nodding mutely he followed her until they came to their destination. She let out a tired sigh and released his hand, moving to change into a silk nightgown behind a screen. Rumple stood awkwardly in the room, looking for a place he could rest, the Dark One didn’t technically need sleep, but sometimes he indulged in it. This was one of the rare nights when he wished to do so, if nothing else then to not have to deal with the effects of the wine in his system. He watched her move to the large bed and climb in, she looked over at him, still awkwardly standing by the door and she silently patted the mattress beside her.

“I’m not interested in laying with you, dearie.” He croaked, the words coming out less menacing and more nervous than intended.

“I know, and I thank you for it, but you need to rest and the bed is big enough for two.” Belle patted the bed again and he had to admit it looked inviting after such a long day. Rumplestiltskin settled beside her in the bed and magicked away his leather, feeling soft cotton wrap around his body as he closed his eyes. “Good night, Rumplestiltskin.” He heard her whisper in the darkened room and for some odd reason it made him smile.

“Good night, Belle.” He slurred back, letting sleep take him almost as soon as the words were out.

There was something warm and soft pressed against him when his eyes blinked open. He was confused for a moment, wondering what it could possibly be. Then the day before came back to him and he couldn’t have moved faster even with magic aiding him as he almost jumped out of bed. His bride, and wasn’t that a terrible unexpected turn of events, let out a soft mewl in her sleep and rolled to face him, chasing his warmth. Rumple swallowed thickly as she wrapped one of her arms around him and let out a sigh, she was even more beautiful then he realized, her face softened by sleep.

The curse bound to his soul whispered in his ear that she was his wife, and thus she was free for the taking. Shaking his head he pushed that thought away and gently tried to remove Belle’s arm from around his waist, almost biting his tongue when her leg brushed against the straining flesh between his legs. He froze; terrified she’d wake up, but when she didn’t he let out a breath. He free himself, find some privacy and either take care of his morning problem or simply will it away, no need for anyone to know about how he had woken up this morning. All his plans were for naught however when he looked back at Belle’s face only to find her eyes open, those blue depths studying him.

“Good morning.” She smiled, sitting up and removing her arm. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes.” He admitted, trying to cover his lap without being too obvious about it.

His movement drew her eye and he saw the moment she realized what was happening. He closed his eyes and waited for her ire, sure that she would but horrified by his arousal. Instead he all but jumped out of his skin when she reached out and touched his cheek, his eyes popping open to look at her. She was smiling again and pretty blush on her cheeks that set off her pale complexion perfectly.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t want me.” She whispered.

“How could anyone not?” He replied, the words leaving him without his permission. He could admit he found her attractive from the moment he’d seen her, her monstrous continence doing nothing to hide her beauty.

She leaned in and captured his lips with hers, taking him by surprise. His eyes slipped closed and he let out a groan. This had to be some kind of trick, no one could ever want him or love him, but Belle hadn’t said anything about love, she was simply kissing him. Perhaps it was presumptuous to assume the two were linked. Soon he couldn’t think clearly, his self-hatred pushed to the side as their kiss deepened, his hands wandering along her body. She was so warm against him as they moved together, and before he knew it she’d gotten his sleeping shirt off of him. He was expecting a gasp or her censure but instead she ran her hand along his chest, blushing when her fingers stopped short of his straining cock resting against his stomach.

“I’ve never seen a man like this before.” She told him, and he had to laugh.

“I’m not a man, dearest.” He replied and she looked up at him and tilted her head to the side and bit her lower lip.

“You look like a man to me.” Belle countered.

Before he could argue the point she leaned in and kissed him again, only pulling back to remove her own sleeping gown and then returned to his lips. Now that they were skin to skin he could feel how truly soft she was, how her body moulded to his perfectly. He kissed along her neck as they moved to lay down, leaving kisses along her shoulders and then down to her breasts, she let out a whimper as he circled the puckered nipple with the tip of his tongue. He felt his cock twitch as he took her firm pert breast into mouth, her moans driving wild. His hand move to take care of her neglected breast and then switched, making sure to pay each other them equal attention.

“This is crazy.” Rumple panted between kisses. “We hardly know each other, how can you want me?” He asked.

Belle licked her lips and spread her legs, her eyes closed in bliss. “How can I not want you?” She panted back. “And it’s so odd, but I feel as if you know you better then I should, but not at all, d-do you understand?” She moaned.

He nodded and kissed her soft belly, he did understand, something about Belle’s eyes called to him, they pulled at his soul like he should know her, like he should recognize who she was. Rumple had heard of things like that before, of connections with people you’d never known but somehow knew so well. But he pushed those swirling thoughts away, the Dark One had no soul mate, he was simply slacking his lust. Redoubling his efforts to block out the swelling in his chest he kissed the inside of each of her thighs and Belle let out a surprised squeak.

Smirking he blew against her wet curls and enjoyed the shudder that ran through her. Leaning in he licked her slit and then pushed his tongue into her folds, finding the nub he knew would make her see stars and begin to play with her. He moved down to kiss her entrance, swirling his tongue around and making sure his nose was rubbing her clit. Rumple could feel Belle tense under him and he moved to suck on her harder. Her hands pulled at his hair as she let out a scream and he groaned and kept lapping at her, gentling her through her pleasure.

Moving his way back up her body her followed the trail he’d taken down in reverse, placing gentle kisses in seemingly random spots. She nuzzled him and gently pecked his lips; she looked at him her eyes filled with more than just lust as she smiled. Belle spread her legs once more and he rested there, she took him in hand and he bit back a whimper. Rumple and Belle worked together as he slowly began to push into her, Belle gasped his name, her nails biting into his shoulders and he was lost.

“Belle!” Rumple whispered. Something deep inside him, lonely and broken, began to mend as they held each other.

They shared a kiss and rubbed their noses together. As he slowly began to move, finding a slow deep rhythm that they both enjoyed. He watched Belle’s face as she gasped and panted beneath him, her eyes never leaving his as they shared a breath, her legs moved to wrap around his hips and he felt himself sink even deeper into her. His pace began to increase, feeling that his end was near, but he couldn’t come just yet. Rumple wanted to see Belle one more time, he wanted to see her and feel her as she came from his touch. Grinding against her with each thrust he heard Belle’s breathy moans become sharper and higher pitched as he made sure to rub her clit with his pubic bone.

She came with a loud gasp, her inner muscles tightening around him. Rumplestiltskin let out a roar, feeling Belle’s heat around him as she came was too much as he saw lights burst behind his eyes as he experienced bone deep contentment for the first time in decades, probably even longer. He fell to the side so as not to crush her, and Belle wrapped her arms around him and sighed in contentment. He ran his hand along her back and let his eyes drift closed. Rumple had been right, this was trouble, Belle was trouble, but, he thought, the best kind of trouble.

#ishtarelisheba #may day menagerie #rumbelle #rumbelle fic #A Spark of Trouble

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galactic-pirates · 7 years

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Dream Come True (May Day Menagerie)

Synopsis: Avonlea is burning. Entire villages wiped out, one by one, as Maleficent in dragon form rains down destruction from the sky. A war party is dispatched; their broken and shattered corpses returned with a puff of magical smoke. Several brave knights set out, seeking to became dragonslayers, but none return alive. Princess Belle decides it's time for a different approach. She goes into battle not with a sword but with her compassion and a pouch of fairy dust. Belle strikes a deal with Maleficent. Her kingdom, her friends, and her family will all live if Maleficent gets one last act of revenge. Belle willingly goes under the sleeping curse, facing eternal sleep; her only hope is that someday her prince will come...

Note: Written for @maydaymenagerie. @tinuviel-undomiel I’m your backup/replacement zookeeper. I am so sorry for the delay! I feel awful about it. I don’t know if it was this fic or just this month but words haven’t come easy. This fic is very much a group effort really because I couldn’t have done it without the help and support of @little-inkstone and @worryinglyinnocent, but especially @mariequitecontrarie who beta read the first two chapters and gave me a shot of hope when I really needed it. Any mistakes are mine.

There isn’t any smut in this fic, and I know that you ticked the smut box. I was going to write a separate smut oneshot immediately following on from the fade to black at the end. I haven’t done that yet, and given how long you’ve already been waiting, I didn’t want to wait any longer to post this. So I know ‘to be continued’ isn’t really allowed but this is a complete story, it just doesn’t have smut. Sorry about that. I will write the smut and tag you as soon as I can.

I see on your blog you weren’t well yesterday. I hope you are feeling better and I hope that you’ll enjoy the fic!

AO3 Link

Chapter One

Belle paused and took a lungful of crisp mountain air. She turned, steadying herself against the rock face, and looked down at the world below. From this perspective, Avonlea was laid out like a painting, little tiny doll-sized villages and matchstick forests. On the horizon she could see the ocean, the lifeblood of her kingdom, bringing trade and prosperity through the ports. It should be a beautiful sight, the kingdom she loved before her, but the smoke spiraling up into the sky cast a somber pall over her heart..

There were so many dead. Entire villages wiped out, one by one, as Maleficent in dragon form rained down destruction from the sky. Fire and claws and roars of pure fury were reported by the pitiful few survivors who managed to escape into the forest and avoid her wrath. A war party had been dispatched; their broken and shattered corpses had been returned with a puff of magical smoke. Several brave knights had attempted to defend Avonlea, seeking to became dragonslayers and earn their place in legend. All had perished, as the death toll increased daily and Maleficent’s attacks grew closer and closer to the palace.

Belle’s father, King Maurice, wanted to evacuate her and her mother to another palace but Belle had slipped out of the side gate instead. Her kingdom was in peril, and if the strongest knights in the land had failed, then it was past time for a different approach. Belle knew she was probably hiking to her death, that Maleficent would tear her to pieces with glee, but she had to try. She had a duty to her people. She was their future queen, and she had to protect them no matter the price to be paid. If her life was the price, so be it - Avonlea was worth any sacrifice.

Belle would rather die on her feet, fighting for what was right, than hide away in her castle and let her people die for her. Maybe it was a cliché, maybe it sounded ridiculous, but it was true. Belle took one last moment to drink in the sight of her beloved kingdom, before turning back to the mountainous rock, determination etched on her face. Maleficent’s castle was built into the side of a mountain. It was a treacherous climb, forcing would-be challengers to face great danger before they even came face-to-face with the dragon witch.

By the time she reached the top, her muscles were shaking from the unaccustomed exertion. Her walks around the palace grounds and her regular horse riding trips, hadn’t prepared her for this. She’d had to liberate the clothing she was wearing as her father would never have allowed such items to be found in her wardrobe. Even when riding she was required to wear a gown, not the practical riding trousers and boots she’d taken from the stables. Her jerkin she’d sewed herself, stripping a crushed maroon velvet gown; it was hardly ideal but she had freedom of movement and that’s what mattered.

“Maleficent,” Belle shouted, raising her head in defiance and striding through the open doors into the shadowy depths of the castle.

She shivered; it was cold inside, the stone leeching away all the heat from the morning sun. Belle’s hand hovered over the dagger she had thrust into her makeshift belt, but she didn’t draw it. What good would a dagger be against a dragon? The main room of the castle was enormous, with great stone pillars at regular intervals to hold up the immense ceiling. It was impressive, especially given the location, and Belle wondered if it had been built by magic.

There was a rustling noise, and through the gloom, Belle saw an orange glow brighten. A roar of flame hit the fireplace, igniting the kindling with a whoosh and illuminating the room. Belle swallowed, seeing the black scales ripple over sinewy muscle. Maleficent’s dragon eyes gleamed in the firelight, and the acrid smell of smoke permeated the air.

“I am Princess Belle of Avonlea.” Belle raised her hands, showing that they were empty. “On behalf of the crown, I wish to discuss options for peace.”

A slight rumbling was the only warning before a jet of flame surged towards her. She dove to one side, landing on the floor and she half-crawled behind a pillar, her heart pounding in her chest. You’re ok, she told herself, settling her rapid heartbeat. She had expected this, she had prepared for this. The ground shook and pitched as Maleficent moved. Belle twisted, avoiding Maleficent’s deadly talons, and ran fishing in her pocket for the pouch that would save her - that would save Avonlea.

The scale of the castle made sense given the size of Maleficent as a dragon and Belle used it to her advantage. She was smaller and had more maneuverability, she could twist and turn in between the pillars. It was unfortunate there weren’t areas too small for the dragon because then she could have used her size to help her evade. However, the goal wasn’t to escape Maleficent completely, so it was perhaps just as well.

There was a rush of heat behind her, as she barely missed another jet of fire, but Maleficent was between two pillars now. Belle’s chest burned with the need for oxygen, but adrenaline coursed through her veins. Maleficent tried to follow her, bumping into a pillar and sending stone crashing to the ground, bit it was too little too late. Safe from her claws and her flame, Belle threw the pouch at Maleficent’s flank. It exploded, sending dust all over the dragon.

With a puff of swirling purple smoke, where the dragon had been now lay a stunned woman. She was dressed all in black, with a horned headdress - Maleficent the witch.

Belle’s skin was slick with sweat, her hair plastered to her forehead, and her chest heaved as she panted for breath. The fight, if you could call it that, had only lasted for a minute, but she felt like it had been much longer. As the adrenaline wore off Belle winced, feeling her elbows and knees start to sting from where she had hit the ground.

Still Belle didn’t draw her dagger. Instead she stopped and looked at Maleficent who glared at her in return.

“Aren’t you going to finish me?” Maleficent groaned, pulling herself along the floor, towards her throne, with one arm.

The fairy dust hadn’t just forced her to transform back into human form, it had also weakened her magic temporarily, a weakness which was also manifesting itself physically. She was helpless. Belle pursed her lips, she would never get a better chance to kill Maleficent, but there had been so much death already.

“I came here to make peace, not to kill you,” Belle told her.

Maleficent levered herself up, sitting on the steps before her throne, and rolled her eyes. “Oh I see, the little princess fancies herself a hero, and heroes don’t kill. You are a foolish little girl.”

“Perhaps,” Belle acknowledged. “But death begets death and then where does it end? I know that my parents did something horrible to you. They won’t tell me what it was, but I can see the shame in their eyes and I am truly sorry for whatever you suffered.”

“Oh really?” Maleficent sneered, her eyes glittering with malice.

“Yes,” Belle stated. “But I have a duty to my people and this - what you are doing, it has to stop. Enough is enough.”

“Enough will never be enough,” Maleficent roared. “I won’t stop until I have my revenge, until they feel the pain I felt. You don’t understand.”

“No, I don’t and ...” Belle bit her tongue before she could continue.

She didn’t believe in revenge because it couldn’t change what had happened. It wasn’t logical to cause more suffering, but it was a pointless argument to make. Maleficent obviously believed in revenge, or they wouldn’t be here, and no amount of logic would sway her from her course.

“What would be enough?” Belle asked. “I am my parents’ only child and heir. If you wish to cause them pain, then take your revenge on me. Do whatever you wish, but let that be an end to it. I want your word, a magical oath, that your quest will stop. That Avonlea, my kingdom, my friends and my family, they will all live, that they won’t be harmed.”

Grimacing Maleficent hauled herself to her feet. “Foolish girl. I could kill you where you stand.” A fireball sparked weakly in her palm, before Maleficent closed her hand, snuffing it out. “But very well you have my word.”

“Your magical oath,” Belle corrected.

Maleficent’s eyes glittered but she nodded. “It’ll end with you.”

Belle felt the heavy weight of the magical promise settle around her shoulders, and she let out a breath of relief. The strangling bands of tension, loosened and she almost felt like laughing. Whatever the future held for her, and she was certain it was nothing good, she had succeeded in her quest. Her people would be safe, Avonlea would endure, and that was all that mattered.

“What now?” Belle asked, stepping forward bravely.

“Good revenge is an art form and for your sacrifice ... something traditional I think.” Maleficent waved her hand, and with a puff of magical smoke a spinning wheel appeared in front of Belle. “Just prick your finger dear and this will all be over.”

“Right.” Belle took a deep breath, glancing at Maleficent.

Belle had expected the dragon witch to gloat, but her expression wasn’t smug or vengeful, it was curious. It was almost like Maleficent couldn’t believe her eyes and Belle straightened, raising her chin in defiance. If Maleficent thought she wouldn’t honor their deal, then the witch was mistaken. Belle had given her word and she wasn’t about to break it.

“Ouch,” Belle muttered, as she pricked her finger on the spinning needle. The blood welled, and her last thought was that it didn’t sting as much as she had expected.

*****

“Well that was anticlimactic,” Rumplestiltskin quipped, skipping out from the shadows.

A spot of magic had rendered him invisible but clad in a dark dragonhide jacket and black leather pants, the shadows clung to him anyway. If there was one thing there was plenty of in Maleficent’s castle it was shadows to skulk around in. His unnatural greenish gold skin shimmered slightly from the dancing firelight.

“Quite,” Maleficent huffed, her lips pursed in disappointment. “Her willingness did rather steal all the satisfaction from it.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “How long have you been there?”

Rumplestiltskin studied his blackened nails. “Long enough, dearie. Quite a show,” he said with a giggle. “Imagine you nearly being bested by a princess.”

He peered down at Belle, collapsed on the ground next to the spinning wheel. His eyes skipped over her, not missing a single detail; the ill-fitting borrowed riding pants and boots, the hastily sewn jerkin, the stolen dagger. Maleficent had summoned him to make a deal for an orb, it was a trifle really and he’d been pondering what price to demand, when the proximity wards had been tripped. Maleficent had cackled and transformed, preparing to roast the foolish knight who had come to try their hand.

Expecting a show, Rumplestiltskin had faded into the corner. Maleficent had decimated entire war parties, one moron with a sword wasn’t going to be a challenge. Instead, with a bit of compassion and ingenuity, Princess Belle had done what none of those idiotic knights had managed - she’d defeated Maleficent. Idly Rumplestiltskin wondered whether Maleficent understood the deal she’d made. Princess Belle hadn’t demanded that Maleficent stop burning villages, she’d taken an oath that nobody within Avonlea would be harmed. Maleficent was finished in Avonlea.

“Actually...” Rumplestiltskin dramatically clasped his chest with his palm. “You were bested. She had you transformed, and magically helpless on the floor. One swift stroke of a sword and we wouldn’t be talking.”

Maleficent shot him a poisonous glare and Rumplestiltskin gave one of his trademark impish giggles. Maleficent knew better than to expect that he would have saved her. They were both considered villains by the residents of Misthaven, they had made a number of satisfactory deals over the years, and they had occasionally been allies of convenience. However, unless there was something in it for him, he didn’t make enemies. He wouldn’t have made an enemy of Avonlea to save her, and quite frankly if a slip of a girl had dispatched her, then Maleficent would have deserved her fate.

“This won’t do at all,” Maleficent decided, giving a lazy wave. Belle’s outfit transformed into a flowing golden gown and Maleficent nodded in satisfaction. “There, much more fitting for a princess.”

“All ready for her big moment,” Rumplestiltskin quipped.

“Quite,” Maleficent smirked.

Another flick of her fingers and Belle’s unconscious body was hovering in mid-air. Maleficent strode forward, Belle’s body at her side as she headed for the castles exit. Maleficent cackled and started to hum. Rumplestiltskin frowned, the melody sounded familiar and he giggled when he recognized it.

Someday her prince will come.

*****

The deal with Maleficent was not happening today but Rumplestiltskin didn’t teleport away. He watched from the shadows as Maleficent constructed a small stone bier in the middle of a forest clearing. It didn’t take much magic to seal the clearing, apart from the archway entrance that she chose. One last puff of magical smoke, and several glowing balls of magic formed, darting up into the sky, streaking overhead to lead the search party to the Princess.

Maleficent had chosen her spot well. It was far enough away from Avonlea to afford privacy, a secluded oasis, which magic shaped to be suitably dramatic for her revenge. It was close enough to the main settlement of Avonlea, that neither of them would have to wait long. Few villains had patience, especially when it came to gloating. The first to arrive in the clearing were the searching knights. They blanched seeing the still form of their princess, and one fell over in fright, crab-walking backwards when Maleficent appeared.

“She is merely sleeping,” Maleficent said sibilantly. “It is a cursed sleep, unbreakable except when faced with true love. My revenge is complete.”

Maleficent gestured dramatically, enveloping herself in dark swirling smoke. Rumplestiltskin rubbed his fingers together; he should transport himself back to the Dark Castle, but he hesitated. He didn’t know why but he wanted to see this play out. The brave Princess had willingly sacrificed for her people, a concept he thought alien to those born into her position. He remembered the Duke of the Frontlands sending children off to war, not because it was necessary, but because it fattened his coffers. In his experience, rulers did whatever was best for them, and cared little for those who swore fealty to them.

Princess Belle was different and he was ... curious.

Rumplestiltskin peered around the clearing. Maleficent had made a show of disappearing but she would be here, she would want to witness every second of what she had wrought - this was her revenge after all. Sighing Rumplestiltskin settled himself on a log and pulled out his hip flask, taking a deep draw of the bitter liquid. As the Dark One he couldn’t get drunk on normal ale, but what his specially fermented brew lacked in taste, it made up in the punch it packed. It warmed him, fighting the chill in his veins that his memories had caused.

A carriage drew up, a full phalanx of knights on horseback surrounding it. Rumplestiltskin stiffened, his keen eyes watching as the steps were lowered and a finely dressed knight in a red jerkin assisted the king’s descent. Both the king and the knight strode over to the bier. Rumplestiltskin snorted, the sound hidden by his magic. King Maurice was wearing his full crown to visit the forest clearing where his daughter lay. The flowing dark purple cloak, trimmed with white fur, was more suited for a banquet than a fight. It wasn’t as if they knew that Belle had dealt to protect them, that Maleficent couldn’t touch them with claw or magic.

“Gaston, a sleeping curse, you are her betrothed, you know what to do.” Maurice noted, shaking his head. “Oh my girl, what a mess you’ve got yourself into now.”

“When we are married I assure you Maurice, nothing of this nature will happen again,” Gaston promised. “She’ll be safe and protected within the grounds of my estate.”

Maurice frowned and Rumplestiltskin smirked as Gaston gulped, realizing too late he had insulted his future father-in-law. “That isn’t your fault of course. It is unfortunate that so many of your staff are easily swayed by her smile. Quite what possessed Belle to do something this foolish ... I suspect her books to be at fault. I’ll soon put a stop to that as well.”

“She’s always been willful,” Maurice agreed.

Rumplestiltskin scowled. He didn’t wish to involve himself in this little drama, lest he be mistakenly blamed for what had occurred. However, they should know that Belle had secured their safety. They were talking about her as if she were incapable of making her own choices, and that unsettled him. It didn’t fit the brave Princess who had faced down Maleficent. Fortunately he didn’t have to say anything as Maleficent chose that moment to step out of the shadows.

Gaston immediately drew his sword. “Stay back, witch. You will pay for what you have done to Princess Belle.”

Maleficent snorted. “I did nothing that your dear Princess Belle didn’t ask for.”

Maleficent fixed ice-filled eyes on Maurice, who shifted uncomfortably and stared at the floor. “King Maurice I wish to inform you in person that my revenge against you, justified though it was, ends with your daughter. She dealt for the safety of your kingdom, you owe her your lives.”

“Avonlea is saved?” Gaston repeated in confusion.

“Yes, your pathetic little kingdom is safe from me.” Maleficent rolled her eyes and gestured to Belle. A smirk crossed her lips. “Now aren’t you going to try and wake your betrothed?”

Gaston shot Maleficent another wary glance and bent down, pressing his lips against Belle’s. Nothing happened. Rumplestiltskin wished he could say he was surprised but he wasn’t. Gaston pulled back, staring daggers at Maleficent.

“This is your fault; you’ve cursed her against me,” Gaston accused.

Maleficent studied her fingernails. “I did no such thing,” she drawled. “I did, however, suspect it would turn out this way. Perhaps you should try familial true love?”

Maurice cleared his throat. “Yes of course.” He bent his head and kissed Belle’s forehead, but there was no pulse of magic. His lip trembled as he stepped back. “Maybe her mother,” he suggested weakly.

“Perhaps.” Maleficent laughed, her eyes glittering with malice.

She disappeared in another swirl of smoke, and this time Rumplestiltskin thought she was gone for good. The show was over and her revenge was complete. His stomach twisted at the thought, but why? What did Belle and her plight mean to him? Nothing, it meant nothing.

*****

Shaking his head Rumplestiltskin vanished to the Dark Castle, determined to forget the odd events of the day but still his stomach twisted and churned. He wondered if imbibing vast quantities of liquor without food was the culprit but that was foolish indeed. As the Dark One his magic sustained him without food. In the beginning he had tried to keep to the habits of a normal man, because it made him more human, but without someone to remind him, it was easy to forget.

Princess Belle and Avonlea weren’t his concern, yet he couldn’t banish them from his mind. He checked back using mirror magic, not something he used often but it had it’s uses. There were dozens of mirrors in Avonlea’s royal castle, so it didn’t take long to discover that Belle’s mother, her childhood nurse, several simpering friends, and even a few ordinary citizens from her kingdom, had all tried to wake her from the curse. All had failed. It only made him wonder even more about this Princess who had offered herself to save her people, and yet received no love in return.

Maleficent had surely counted on this, as otherwise her revenge would have been short-lived. Instead it had turned into an object lesson for foolish heroes, revenge inside the wheel of revenge. Belle had sacrificed for her people. She was a hero, but nobody cared enough about her for true love to spark and save her. The people of Avonlea, Belle’s parents, her betrothed, would claim that they loved her, but magic always knew the truth. Maybe they loved the idea of her, of the image they had of Belle in their minds, one that wasn’t true in reality.

“You are the worst kind of fool,” Rumplestiltskin growled to himself, as he contemplated his vials of magic dust.

He’d acquired some dream dust years ago in a deal long forgotten, but dust from the temple of Morpheus had been a valuable acquisition. He hadn’t needed it since, and he couldn’t foresee what he would need it for in the future, but that didn’t mean he should waste it. He was just bored that was all, he’d lived several lifetimes and there wasn’t much that could hold his attention these days. This was a novelty, the brave Princess saving her kingdom, going against archetypes.

It was curiosity, nothing more.

A week later, Rumplestiltskin’s resolve ran out. He stood over the bier, choosing to focus on Belle’s face, rather than her still and unmoving chest. She looked dead and it was an oddly disturbing thought. That somebody so brave, full of goodness and light, could be snuffed out like a candle. That was the nature of the light he supposed, and why darkness endured. Maleficent had done nice work to make Belle look the part for her big moment. The golden gown was flattering, his spinner’s eye noted that it suited her coloring. Her chestnut hair was twisted, curled over one shoulder, and her eyes were closed.

Rumplestiltskin’s eyes darted away from them, down to her pert red mouth, missing the brilliant blue that had sparked with cleverness and defiance. As lovely as Princess Belle looked in her gown, Rumplestiltskin couldn’t help but think she had looked equally as lovely in her mismatched adventurer gear. She had been brave, and that shouldn’t be erased in favor of fashioning her into a doll. Belle had the heart of a warrior, of a hero, she wasn’t some simpering Princess. He rolled his eyes, and stomped round the clearing, trying to rein in his thoughts. He was the Dark One, a villainous monster, what was he doing here waxing lyrical about a foolish girl? No matter how brilliant and brave, she was of no use to him.

He was here out of curiosity, nothing more.

What would such a brave princess encounter in the land of nightmares and regrets? He’d met many people who had called themselves heroes over the years, but they had all acted out of selfish motives. Belle was different, she cared. Rumplestiltskin growled, his blackened nails digging into the unnatural flesh of his palm. He was looking for a flaw, a way to reaffirm his view of the world, to tear Belle down and find her as selfish as any other.

He had always wanted to be a hero, but instead he’d been a coward; he’d ended the ogres war and received nothing but fear and scorn because of the means he used to achieve victory. What he had done, he’d done to save Bae, saving everyone else had been a happy accident. His motives had never been pure. He would always be the villain - always be the monster.

Before he could second guess himself again, Rumplestiltskin threw a small pinch of dream dust onto Belle’s unmoving body. He blinked and was transported into the dream world.

Chapter Two

Rumplestiltskin didn’t know what he had expected, but Avonlea’s royal castle wasn’t it. He glanced around; he was in a bathing chamber, and thankfully the room was empty. The discrete servants’ doorway was closed, empty pails of water were stacked by the fireplace, which was laid ready but not burning. He took a step forward, the doorway into the royal quarters was ajar and he could hear the muffled sound of crying. He rolled his eyes, perhaps the flaw was easier to find than he had thought, if Princess Belle was so superficial that a life of luxury was a nightmare for her.

The snarky thought didn’t sit well with him, didn’t ring true with the image he had in his mind. Rumplestiltskin shook his head, the image he had in his mind was nothing but a brief impression which he’d no doubt embellished due to thinking about it so much. Meeting the fearless Princess again would no doubt destroy the illusion, his curiosity would then be sated and he could move on. Rumplestiltskin took another step forward and peered through the gap in the door.

Belle was sitting by the window, hunched over, her arms wrapped protectively around herself as she sobbed. She was bathed in light from the sun, a contrast to the darkness that concealed him in the bathing chamber. His fingers rubbed together nervously at his side, as he wondered what on earth had made her cry like this, and as he craned for a better look he nudged the door and it creaked. Belle’s head snapped up, staring in his direction.

“Who’s there?” Belle asked in alarm, a hand flying to her face to wipe away the evidence of her tears.

“Just a cleaner, dearie,” Rumplestiltskin called, cringing at the lie.

She was never going to buy that. Belle stood up and strode forward, trying to peer around the partially closed door. He took a step back and contemplated leaving. The dream dust would last an hour but he had control, he could leave earlier if he wished. Only the rarity and cost of the dust stayed his hand. He’d only just arrived after all and he still had questions. Primarily why was this a land of nightmares and regrets? Belle was dressed as a princess, she hadn’t been reduced to a maid, so what could be so terrible?

“Who are you? Come into the light,” Belle demanded.

Reluctantly Rumplestiltskin opened the door and stepped through into Belle’s chambers. He expected her to scream, to recoil at his beastly appearance, but she did neither of those things. Instead she frowned, cocking her head in confusion as she studied him.

“I don’t know you,” Belle opened. “What were you doing in my bathing chamber?”

“Rumplestiltskin.” Rumplestiltskin bowed with a flourish. “Also known as the Dark One. I presume you’ve heard of me.”

“Of course, you make deals, helping people get what they want for a price,” Belle summarized him frankly, and with a surprising lack of judgment or fear. “That doesn’t explain what you are doing in my bathing chamber.”

“If there’s one thing I know how to recognize, it’s a desperate soul.” Rumplestiltskin giggled.

His eyes gleamed as he gave himself over to the imp persona. It was an evasion but not necessarily untrue. Belle was supposed to be trapped in a nightmare world formed by her regrets, and so she would be desperate. Belle’s lips twitched, a smile almost forming, and Rumplestiltskin had to work hard not to frown at her. She hadn’t appeared afraid of Maleficent either, did she have no sense of self-preservation? What an odd girl.

“Why aren’t you afraid of me? I could turn you into a toad!” Rumplestiltskin threatened.

Belle rolled her eyes. “If you had come to harm me, then you would already have done so. Would you like some tea?”

Rumplestiltskin blinked at the non-sequitur. He didn’t think he’d ever been offered tea in his life. People wanted whatever it was they wanted from him, and then they wished to shed themselves of his company as soon as possible. He supposed that business could be discussed over tea but it slowed everything down, and made for polite conversation. It was more of a social thing and nobody wanted to socialize with the Dark One.

“I suppose I could spare a few minutes,” Rumplestiltskin agreed casually.

There were two armchairs under the window, surrounding a small circular table which contained a steaming teapot. He perched in the chair Belle had just vacated moments ago, slapping his thighs with his hands and waggling his eyebrows. He wanted to unsettle her, he wanted to put her off balance because he didn’t understand her. However, yet again whatever response he’d expected, he didn’t get. In fact he didn’t get a reaction at all. Belle bustled over to the corner, somehow managing to find a second teacup. She then poured the two cups, and sat in the other chair, as if she weren’t about to take tea with a monster.

“So what can bring a princess to tears? Let me guess: one of your pretty gowns has ripped,” Rumplestiltskin quipped. He waggled his fingers. “I could fix that, for a price.”

“My father accepted a betrothal offer; I’m to be married,” Belle told him, her lip trembling as she finished. She looked away and took a deep breath, getting ahold of herself.

“This is what you regret the most?” Rumplestiltskin asked, anger surging through him.

He had thought her betrothed an ignorant oaf, but he was typically handsome, large, and strong. The kind of knight most women would dream of marrying, and he’d made a fair few deals over the years with silly girls to help them make such a match. If Belle was reliving her engagement to Gaston as a living nightmare of her biggest regret, then what had he done to her?

“I wouldn’t necessarily phrase it like that but ...” Belle shrugged. “Is that not why you are here? You did say I was a desperate soul.” She shrugged again. “It matters not, it has been decided and all that remains is to make the best of it. I suppose I should be grateful, I could do a lot worse than Gaston.”

“Yet you regret agreeing to marry him?” Rumplestiltskin felt uneasy.

“I didn’t agree.” Belle said tartly. She sighed and took a sip of her tea. “I am my parents’ only child, I am the heir to the Avonlean throne. One day I will be Queen but with Gaston, it will only ever be a title. He’s ... traditional. I know I should count my blessings because he’s a nice enough man. I will be treated well enough, I just won’t be permitted an opinion. I will be a prisoner within my own kingdom.” Belle laughed softly, the sound far more broken than amused. “I have no idea why I am telling you this. I don’t expect you care for the petty troubles of a princess.”

Rumplestiltskin thought of what he had witnessed when Gaston and Belle’s father King Maurice had come to the bier and failed to kiss her awake. He thought about Belle boldly standing up to Maleficent and bargaining for her people’s safety. He was beginning to understand. The happiest he’d ever been was when he was poor as dirt, because even though he’d been starving and constantly afraid, he’d had Bae. Now, he was rich, and he had the power to get anything he desired, but he would trade it all for another day with his son. Being rich was definitely preferable to being poor, but a life that wasn’t your own was no kind of life at all. The desperate souls that called to him often wanted riches, Belle just wanted to be happy, and that was refreshing.

“You could walk away,” Rumplestiltskin suggested, a test to see if Belle truly meant what she said. Could she walk away from a life of luxury to regain the independence that she claimed meant so much?

“No I cannot.” Belle’s tone was final, as if she had considered and rejected all other possibilities. “I have a duty to my people. If there is anything I can do for them, then I must try. To walk away would be to shirk my responsibility, and I couldn’t live with myself if I was that selfish.”

“You said you wouldn’t be allowed an opinion,” Rumplestiltskin reminded her, unsettled yet again that Belle seemed to care so much for her people. Rulers took and took, they never gave.

Belle shrugged. “There are other ways; I could try and persuade. At least I would be here to fight, and Avonlea is worth fighting for. My father listens only to the council, he doesn’t walk among the people. I don’t live their lives, I can’t truly understand but I do try to listen, so that I can be their voice. We can’t always help but we at least should show the people we care. They deserve that much.”

“Did you learn this from your books?” Rumplestiltskin asked, trying for sarcastic but his tone was more interested.

She nodded. “Yes and from visiting the village, seeing how they live, which is a world apart from all of this.” Belle gestured to the opulence of her room.

Rumplestiltskin glanced around. It was at least twice the size of the hovel he’d called home. Paintings dressed in gilt golden frames adorned the walls; the wooden furniture was ornately carved and polished to a high sheen. Rich hangings surrounded the bed, obscuring the heavy comforter and soft sheets. This was only one room in a palace, filled with rooms some of which would be even more decadent than this.

“So what have you been reading that gave you such ideas, hmm?” Rumplestiltskin cackled but Belle’s eyes lit up with enthusiasm, rather than fear.

“There were several books but the first that really made me question what I had been taught, had a rather unfortunate title. It’s called Her Handsome Hero and ...”

*****

He lasted three days.

Rumplestiltskin glared down at Belle, who was laying peaceful and unmoving on her bier, exactly as he left her. The dream dust was limited to an hour and to his surprise the hour had passed quickly. Belle was passionate about her books, and about her duty, the light only dimming in her eyes when her future was referenced. His curiosity should have been sated, he now knew what he wanted to discover - what regrets a princess had. However, it wasn’t enough, he wanted to see her again. Belle was like no-one he had ever met, she was so full of light, it seemed impossible that anyone could be that good.

Belle treated him like he was human, like he wasn’t the beastly Dark One, and in turn that made him feel more human than he’d felt in decades. Rumplestiltskin was starting to suspect that Belle treated everyone the same, at least until their actions demanded a different approach. She spoke of compassion, of how you couldn’t tell what was in someone’s heart until you got to know them. In her eyes people were innocent until proven guilty, and that was such a novel concept in the Enchanted Forest that he was still struggling to believe it.

He had a vial of the dust. He could spare a second pinch. Before he could change his mind Rumplestiltskin sprinkled the dust on Belle, blinked and found himself in her quarters once again, thankfully not in the attached bathing chamber this time. He turned, seeing Belle look up at the sound of his dragon-hide cloak creaking as he moved. Her face lit up.

“You’re back!” Belle exclaimed.

“You remember?” Rumplestiltskin blurted out in surprise.

Belle’s brow creased in confusion. “Of course I remember.” She cocked her head on one side questioningly. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Well ...” Rumplestiltskin faltered, groping for words.

Belle didn’t know she was in a dream world and he didn’t think he should tell her; he wasn’t sure what that would do to the magic. It probably wouldn’t do anything so long as she didn’t believe him, but if she did then that could cause problems. Belief was powerful and the last thing he wanted was to increase her suffering.

“I can’t ... I’m not sure ...” Belle shook her head. “It’s been many days ... I think.”

Rumplestiltskin gulped. “Yes ... well I’ve been busy, dearie. Lots of deals to be made, can’t be visiting Princesses for tea whenever the mood strikes.”

Belle’s lips curved into a smile. “So you’d like some tea?” She reached for the teapot, this time there were already two cups on the table.

“I don’t wish to intrude if you are expecting a guest. Perfect princesses shouldn’t entertain monsters,” Rumplestiltskin quipped, planting himself on the empty armchair in direct opposition to his words.

He still couldn’t work out why Belle was agreeing to have tea with him, perhaps her subconscious knew he wasn’t part of this dream world and it provided a respite for her. That was the problem with magic sometimes, observing it could change it, and he didn’t know what it was like when he wasn’t here. That might also explain why she was being so open with him, when he imagined that if this had happened in real life she’d have screamed.

“There’s no one else. Perhaps I knew you were coming.” Belle smiled, handing him his teacup. Her smile dimmed. “And I’m not perfect, I’d rather you didn’t call me that.”

“Why not?” Rumplestiltskin asked in a sing-song voice, hiding behind the imp to cover his unease. The emotion behind Belle’s muttered statement made him want to flee, even as the darkness perked up at the scent of weakness.

“Because it’s another form of trap isn’t it?” Belle remarked bitterly. “A way to make someone conform to an ideal, the perfect princess, the perfect wife, never straying from the mold, never allowed to be themselves. It’s a lot of pressure, nobody could live up to that.” Belle eyed him curiously. “The same with you I guess but in reverse. You keep calling yourself a monster, but there’s more to you than that.”

“Ah I see, you’re trying to discover the monster’s weaknesses,” Rumplestiltskin cackled. “You first dearie, how is the perfect princess not so perfect?”

Belle arched an eyebrow at him, she couldn’t have looked more unimpressed if she’d tried. “I’m not perfect. I’m reckless, impulsive, controlled by my emotions. You’d think because I know this about myself I’d be able to work on it, but I can’t stop myself and sometimes I don’t even realize that’s what I’ve done. I’m often irrational ...”

“You’re human,” Rumplestiltskin interrupted.

“Exactly! That’s something we all need to remember about ourselves, and about everyone else. It’s when we lose sight of that forgiveness, compassion ...”

“Enough. Too much syrupy nonsense gives me indigestion,” Rumplestiltskin objected.

His self-hatred was comfortable and familiar and very well deserved. Recasting his mistakes in a more forgiving light was not something he should ever consider, that wasn’t meant for the likes of him. He was the Dark One, the monster, the villain, a tale to frighten children. He could never be anything more. He glanced over and accidently met Belle’s eyes, and then found he couldn’t look away. Nobody had looked at him like that, with honest curiosity and kindness, there had been no-one since Bae and it made his blackened heart ache.

“Fine then, why don’t you do the talking for a change,” Belle challenged. “You said you’d had deals to make, you must have travelled a lot. I’d love to see the world. I wish ...” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter, could you tell me about it? About the places you’ve seen?”

“I suppose,” Rumplestiltskin agreed. He didn’t want to waste the dust after all and there was most of the hour left. “How about the first time I went to Agrabah?”

He only intended to tell her one story but Belle’s eyes were so bright, and at one point she grasped his hand, and his traitorous tongue kept talking. It was the most pleasant afternoon he’d spent in more than a hundred years. He kept a close eye on the time, eager to escape and simultaneously desperate to stay. When the hour was nearly up, Rumplestiltskin stood to leave feeling both relief and regret.

“I have to go now dearie,” Rumplestiltskin told her.

“You can’t stay a little longer?” Belle asked. She flushed. “It’s alright, I understand, but you’ll come back soon?”

“Perhaps, if I have nothing better to do,” Rumplestiltskin agreed with feigned nonchalance, grateful for the first time for his unnatural skin, as it saved him the indignity of being seen blushing.

Belle stood, moving towards him, and his fingers twitched in panic. He left the dream world behind with a pop, disguising the action with a swirl of smoke, so as to give the illusion he teleported. Rumplestiltskin cleared his throat and tugged on his jacket. It had almost seemed like Belle was going to ... he shook his head and transported himself back to the Dark Castle. It didn’t do to dwell on dreams.

*****

By his sixth visit, Rumplestiltskin didn’t bother with a token protest to his actions anymore. He was drawn to go back, he couldn’t help himself and he didn’t know why. His supply of dream dust was dwindling, and rather than mourn the loss of the powerful magic which he could have used, he was plotting how he could get some more so he could keep seeing Belle. She was right, she wasn’t perfect, just almost-perfect, and her imperfections made her more alluring.

“Rumple!” Belle exclaimed happily when he blinked into the dream world. “It’s been ... it’s good to see you. So what’ll it be today, hmm?”

“If you have the time, I have something for you,” Rumplestiltskin said.

He’d found that he couldn’t bring anything into the dream world with him. His clothes crossed over, but then that was probably because he’d never picture himself naked, it wasn’t a pretty sight. Nothing he carried came over, but magic could fix that. He was wary of using magic in the dreamscape, it took more power than in the real world, but the price was still within acceptable limits.

Rumplestiltskin clicked his fingers, producing a copy of a scroll that was safely back in the Dark Castle, and handed it to Belle. There wasn’t any tea but another wave of his hand refilled the pot. There were two cups on the tray, as there had been every time since his first visit. Belief was powerful, Belle didn’t know it but she was affecting the dreamscape around her. He had visited once, and they’d had tea, and so the teapot and the right number of cups had been available ever since.

They were skipping around in time, or more likely Belle was reliving the months over and over in between his visits. Sometimes it was early in her engagement, in others it was relatively close to the time she had been cursed asleep. Belle didn’t notice, time was a vague concept here and one he was careful not to draw attention to lest she realize her cursed state. He couldn’t think of anything worse than if Belle was aware she was trapped, ignorance could sometimes be bliss.

He flinched as Belle appeared at his side, well within his personal space. Her arm brushed against his as she held the scroll in front of her. Casually he side-stepped to put some distance between them, but all that did was move them a step across the room as Belle followed. Rumplestiltskin swallowed, for his last few visits the magic of the dream dust hadn’t dressed him in his dragonhide coat. Instead he’d appeared in just his silks, and the shirt was thin enough he could feel the warmth of her skin.

“Is this fairy language?” Belle asked, her eyes scanning the scroll.

“Yes I thought you’d find it interesting,” Rumplestiltskin admitted. “You mentioned last time you had an interest in languages.”

“I do yes, this seems to be talking about a ritual,” Belle murmured, most of her attention still on the scroll. “You probably already know that.”

“Yes, of course,” Rumplestiltskin lied. He coughed and waved his hand, he’d hoped that she would be able to translate it and it seemed he was right, but it wouldn’t do to betray that weakness in his knowledge. “Talk me through it anyway.”

“Ok.” Belle beamed, a blush rising on her cheeks.

There was an odd look in her eyes which Rumplestiltskin couldn’t identify, so he decided it wasn’t important. It was a shame really that Belle was trapped in this sleeping curse. Idly he wondered what would have happened if Belle had called upon him for a deal to take care of Maleficent. Would he have learned of her linguistic talents in time to know she was the true treasure of Avonlea? He could have demanded her as his price and had a very capable research assistant. Rumplestiltskin shoved the fantasy away, Belle would have been miserable trapped in the Dark Castle.

She would have been an actual prisoner, as opposed to just feeling like a prisoner, and it would have crushed her spirit. The Dark Castle would have become her land of nightmares and regrets. This was better, for all that it wasn’t real. He didn’t want to be the monster in her nightmares. Usually he enjoyed inspiring fear in nobility, they’d made him kiss their boots as a peasant and revenge could be sweet, but Belle wasn’t like that. She was what nobility should be like. She treated him like he wasn’t a beast, like he was just an ordinary man. Belle laughed at his jokes, rolled her eyes when he embraced the imp, and looked straight at him.

Most people never made eye contact but it was like his unnatural appearance didn’t even register for her. She willingly touched him, a slight brush against his hand when they reached for the same thing, or light pressure against his arm when they were talking. Belle was tactile, reaching out for him, it was behavior he’d observed but never experienced. It was like she was comfortable with him, something he’d rarely experienced even as a spinner due to his reputation, and he would miss that when their time was over.

Belle launched into an explanation, pointing at various points of the text as she translated. Rumplestiltskin listened, this was something he wanted to know after all, but half of his attention was on Belle herself and not what she was saying. He was so caught up in listening to her, and watching her expressions flicker across her face - oh she was so animated and expressive - that he didn’t notice the time.

Rumplestiltskin squeaked, watching Belle’s eyes widen as he disappeared before her very eyes. He opened his eyes, and grimaced, seeing Belle’s prone sleeping form in front of him. Belle always missed his arrival because it was unexpected, and he covered his disappearance with a pretend swirl of magic. Just popping out of existence was harsh, and would seem unnatural even for those not familiar with magic. He ached to return to her immediately, to reassure her that all was well, but it was useless.

Time moved differently in the dream world and it would be an unknown amount of time for Belle, even if he sprinkled dust on her this second. Not that he could use the dream dust now, magic didn’t just come at a price, it had limitations. He couldn’t use the dust for another couple of days, right now the magic would be as useless as sprinkling actual dust on her form. Rumplestiltskin cursed and transported himself back to the Dark Castle, to his spinning wheel. This was all his fault anyway for getting distracted.

He would go back once more to reassure her but that would be the last visit. Indulging his curiosity had been a mistake, and he couldn’t even pretend it was about that anymore. One last time and then he had to let her go. Just one last visit and then he would leave her to her eternal slumber, for what else could he do? He was the Dark One, a monster and a beast, perhaps an adventuring prince would one day find her in the forest, hack down the vines and they would have their happily ever after. He was immortal so he might even be around to see it.

The wheel started to turn, easing the pain in his chest. Belle deserved the very best and he was sure that fate would one day balance the scales on her sacrifice. Someday her prince would come.

Chapter Three

“Rumple!”

Rumplestiltskin froze, utterly stunned and awash with sensations. He’d barely blinked into existence within the dream world and ... Belle was hugging him. Belle’s arms were around his neck, her body pressed full length against his. He could feel her breath against his neck. His hands hovered at his sides, and he could feel how stiff he was in her embrace, but he hadn’t been expecting it - he couldn’t have expected it.

“I was so worried,” Belle murmured. “You just disappeared.”

“Worried about me? Strange girl,” Rumplestiltskin quipped fondly.

Belle stepped back, her arms sliding over his shoulders, until they were back in front of her. It was the longest moment of his life, and then she wasn’t touching him any longer and it’s like all the warmth went with her. The magic had dressed him in a blue silk shirt today, something which he’d never worn outside the Dark Castle. Belle had touched him before briefly, but being in her arms was something else entirely. He’d been too shocked to properly appreciate it and then it was over. He hadn’t been touched with kindness in so long, and he hadn’t missed it, but the brief taste made him almost physically ache. If he could just hold her again, then he could properly memorize it, and the ghost of that memory would sustain him for the next hundred years.

“I ... I have a ball to attend later,” Rumplestiltskin lied in a fit of inspiration, doing a dramatic flourish to cover his nerves. “Help me practice?”

“Oh erm ...” Belle blushed. “I’d love that but I’m not a good dancer, Gaston says I have two left feet and his horse has more grace.”

Rumplestiltskin frowned, that great lummox was hardly light on his feet. He clicked his fingers, conjuring a gramophone, another click and Belle’s simple blue and white dress transformed into a replica of the golden dress she was wearing in the real world. It wasn’t a ball gown, there was no hoop skirt, but it was more appropriate for a ball. Belle gave a pleased gasp, and his lips twitched a smile threatening to form.

“Gold,” Belle whispered, rubbing the fabric between her fingers.

“I can change it...” Rumplestiltskin raised his arm and twirled his hand.

Belle shook her head. “No I like it.”

She smiled and stepped forward, sliding her hand up his chest to rest against his shoulder. Rumplestiltskin swallowed, even the gentle pressure of her hand through his silk shirt, it was like he was being scalded. Nervously he looked down at her other hand, with her pale perfect skin, and then at his beastly paw, with the unnatural skin and blackened nails. He recoiled from touching her and he didn’t understand why she wasn’t recoiling from him.

The next thing he knew, Belle’s hand was soft, her fingers tangling with his. Gingerly he placed his other hand around her, barely touching her back. Belle sighed and he tensed, his heart jumping, but a panicked couple of beats later he realized it hadn’t been a noise of protest. Briefly he met her eyes. His brow creased in confusion as he saw an amused smile steal across Belle’s face. Then the eerie ringing in his ears registered, the silence becoming deafeningly loud. He clicked his fingers and the music started.

Rumplestiltskin took a breath and then they started to dance. It was slow, matching the melodic instrumental strains coming from the gramophone. Belle’s skirt rustled as she turned, in a whirl around his outstretched arm. Belle’s quarters were large but there wasn’t much free space, just a small square in between the coffee table and the bookcase. They waltzed around and he closed his eyes, drinking in the sensations of Belle soft against him, her light flowery scent surrounding him, her warmth leeching through to his cold heart.

“I thought you said you weren’t a good dancer?” Rumplestiltskin teased.

“I guess I was just waiting for the right partner,” Belle murmured.

Their eyes met. Belle leaned in. Rumplestiltskin panicked.

He stepped back, his mouth opening and closing as he tried and failed to find words. In the end he just gestured, smoke obscuring his exit. Belle’s confused and hurt expression burning into his mind as he left her. Back in the real world Rumplestiltskin staggered, he technically hadn’t been anywhere but he felt out of breath and weak. He reached for the bier to steady himself, feeling the silky material of Belle’s dress brush against his fingertips.

It couldn’t be, it couldn’t. A soft moan, like a wounded animal tore from his throat, as he looked at his hand on the bier. He was a beast, a monster, the fearsome Dark One - Rumplestiltskin, the man nobody loved. Belle was goodness and light, brave and intelligent, beautiful and bold; she wasn’t perfect but that only made her more perfect.

Curiosity had led him down this path. He hadn’t been looking for love.

Rumplestiltskin raised his hand, pulling up the magic to transport himself back to the Dark Castle, but he stopped. The threads of magic fading away like wisps on the summer wind. He couldn’t leave. He wanted to leave - he was desperate to leave. He wanted to run, to deny that Belle had been going to kiss him - him! The beast, the monster, the Dark One. He had quipped sometimes that he ‘had that effect on women’ but it was all posturing. Nobody had ever truly desired him, not even his ex-wife and Belle was so young and beautiful and brilliant.

This couldn’t be real. It would never work. Why was he even considering that it might? He groaned again, tearing at his hair. It would be so simple just to teleport away and never look back. That’s what he should do because Belle was a princess, and he was a beast, and this entire agonizing debate was pointless anyway. Although with that thought - if it was so pointless, then might he as well make the attempt? If there was the slightest chance, he couldn’t leave her trapped in the sleeping curse. Belle deserved to be free.

He ... he loved her.

“It’ll never work. No-one could ever, ever love me,” Rumplestiltskin whispered but he bent down anyway and pressed his lips chastely against Belle’s.

Rumplestiltskin felt the magic surge even before there was a tell-tale rainbow pulse in the air. He stumbled back, startled and Belle gasped, taking her first breath in months. Her eyes flew open as she bolted upright and she stared at him.

“I knew it was you!” Belle exclaimed, a smile spreading across her face. She held her hand towards him and Rumplestiltskin lurched forward as if compelled. “I remember everything.”

His hand had just slid into hers when the clearing swelled with magic. Rumplestiltskin stiffened, seeing Maleficent materialize in a swirl of smoke, fury etched on her face.

“You!” Maleficent roared.

“Yes dearie?” Rumplestiltskin raised an eyebrow.

He might be shocked senseless, reeling from the pulse of light - from true loves kiss, but Maleficent was still no match for him and she knew it. He didn’t fear the dragon witch and no harm would befall Belle while he still drew breath. Although it wasn’t as if Belle had needed his help last time, she was strong and capable on her own, but she probably didn’t have any pouches of fairy dust up her sleeve this time.

“You’re no Prince Charming,” Maleficent sneered.

Her eyes still glittered with anger but her incandescent rage faded. Rumplestiltskin smirked as he realized why, Belle had dealt for the safety of Avonlea - and Belle was very much part of Avonlea. Maleficent couldn’t touch her, it ended with the sleeping curse and that had just been broken. He shook his head lightly, true love he could scarcely believe it. How could anyone, let alone someone as wonderful as Belle love him?

“That’s a different story.” Belle smiled, twisting so that she was sitting up on the edge of the bier.

Maleficent snorted. “What’s this one then? Beauty and the Beast?”

Instinctively Rumplestiltskin squeezed Belle’s hand, tensing at the word beast because Maleficent was right. There was so much they hadn’t said and possibilities started to flood his mind. That had been their first kiss, and while he had always thought true love must mean true acceptance - loving all of someone, nobody could love him if they truly knew him. Once he told her everything, there was no way Belle would want to be with him.

The selfish, dark part of him, wanted to keep his secrets, wanted to put on a show of being the man Belle wanted but in his heart he knew that wouldn’t work forever. Sooner or later it would all come crumbling down, everything he touched he destroyed. Belle smiled again and Rumplestiltskin frowned slightly, seeing the steel behind the expression for the first time. There was no warmth, it was cold and polite.

“I really hope you’ll find your happiness Maleficent.” Belle stood, tugging lightly so he followed her. “Do let me know if there’s anything I can do to help. After all...” Belle’s polite smile widened. “It is thanks to you that Rumple and I found one another.” Belle let go of his hand and strode out of the clearing, her head held high.

Maleficent watched her walk away, and shook her head in admiration. “Now that is how you execute revenge.”

“Maleficent,” Rumplestiltskin growled in warning.

“I know, it’s over. Your ... true love saw to that already.” Maleficent sighed. “I always knew the sleeping curse would break one day, curses are designed to be broken but I never thought it would be this soon, or that you would ... it’s just as well. Her willingness did rather ruin the satisfaction.”

Maleficent gestured, a swirl of smoke transporting her away. Rumplestiltskin took a deep breath and strode across the clearing, utterly unsurprised to find Belle waiting for him just out of view. For a long moment they just stared at one another. He was still struggling to believe what had happened. Their time together in the dream world had been amazing, that’s why he kept coming back, but he’d never thought they’d have more than that. Now Belle was awake and reality was intruding.

“Rumple will the true loves kiss have reached the castle?” Belle asked.

“Ah ... yes, maybe,” Rumplestiltskin stuttered, it wasn’t like he had a lot of experience with light magic.

True love was a rare thing, it was the most powerful of all magic, and the thought that he had been blessed with it was making his mind loop, he just couldn’t believe it was true. He’d made the attempt, believing firmly that it wouldn’t work, but because he cared for Belle he’d felt compelled to try. He’d expected failure and he didn’t quite know how to deal with success. It was hard to think. He had no idea what to do now.

“Can you take us there?” Belle continued, holding out her hand.

Rumplestiltskin nodded and gestured quickly, engulfing them both in smoke, transporting them to the royal castle of Avonlea.

*****

Belle blinked as the smoke cleared, showing that Rumplestiltskin had transported them into the council chamber. There was a small throne in one corner, which in the kingdoms better days was center stage. However, the room hadn’t been changed since the desperate days when Maleficent had been burning villages, and it was still dominated by the large war table. It was around that table that her mother and father, Gaston and several council members were standing.

“Mother, Father,” Belle called, striding forward more into the center of the room.

“Belle!” Collette gasped, lurching forward before gathering herself.

Demurely she walked the few steps that separated them. Belle felt her mothers hand shake slightly as they gently squeezed her shoulders. There was a faint brush of Collette’s lips against her cheek and then her mother stepped back. Just once Belle wished that her mother could throw protocol out the window and hug her properly, the way she sometimes still did when they were alone. It was something Belle had feared would become of her, once she married Gaston and became queen, the complete loss of self. Her mothers behavior was likely too ingrained after years of being Queen, and Belle could feel the weight of the councils disapproving stares. They had questions - they always had questions.

“What happened? There was a pulse of magic, is that what woke you?” Collette asked.

Belle looked past her mother, to her father, Gaston and the council members. She twisted and saw Rumplestiltskin standing uncomfortably in the corner where they had arrived. His presence had already been noted and Belle could see two of the councilors muttering darkly to each other. Rumplestiltskin looked uneasy and Belle wished they’d had more time to talk. He’d never said much about himself but she could tell that he was lonely. The true loves kiss had given her an incredible amount of reassurance, comfort and certainty, but she could tell that it wasn’t the same for him.

He was still so painfully unsure, and Belle felt a flash of irritation course through her, as she remembered again Maleficent’s quip about him being a beast. Still they had the rest of their lives to get everything sorted. Given his answer, that the pulse of magic would have been felt in Avonlea, she hadn’t wanted to delay in talking with her people. The deal she had made with Maleficent had ended the dragon witches tyranny of Avonlea, but only now that she had woken from Maleficent’s last act of revenge, was the nightmare truly over. It was a new beginning.

A happy beginning was now theirs.

“Yes.” Belle nodded, feeling a smile stretch across her face. She reached out a hand towards Rumplestiltskin, he took one shaky step forward but that was it. “Mother, Father, honored members of the council, I would like to introduce you to Rumplestiltskin. My Prince Consort, my chosen, my true love.”

“Now wait my girl you are betrothed to Gaston,” Maurice spluttered. “You are certainly not married to this ... this beast.”

“He’s not a beast father,” Belle stated, her voice acquiring an edge. “As for marriage, I would say our true loves kiss, which woke me from my eternal sleep, proves our bond. True loves kiss is surely a demonstration far stronger than any marriage ceremony.”

Belle raised her head imperiously, drawing on all her training to stare them down. She was their future Queen after all and Dark One or not, surely they couldn’t deny true loves kiss? True love was rare, it was something that most people sadly weren’t blessed with. There were those that spent their entire life searching for it, Belle had never thought she would meet her true love, and had been resigned to hoping for contentment in her marriage and fairly certain she wouldn’t even have that. True love was pure and magical, it had to outweigh any petty prejudices based on Rumplestiltskin’s reputation. Just from spending a small amount of time with him, Belle was fairly certain his reputation was enhanced, he certainly wasn’t the scourge of the realms as some claimed.

“As future queen ...” Belle continued.

“But you’re not,” Gaston interrupted, surprising Belle as she had expected him to say something long before now. A self-satisfied smirk played across his lips and her heart sank. “With you in the sleeping curse, unable to be woken, your father was forced to make other plans for the throne.”

“Gaston was to be king anyway, it seemed only fitting to name him as my successor,” Maurice confirmed.

Belle looked between them all. Her mother looked abashed, her eyes cast down to the floor but she didn’t speak a word of protest. Her father looked resolute and Belle swallowed, feeling her hand curl into a fist. This was some of her worst nightmares come true. Gaston would have been her Prince Consort - never King, but that wasn’t how either he nor her father had seen it. Gaston wasn’t a cruel man but he was egotistical, he didn’t like to listen, and she feared what would become of her people under his leadership.

“You being in love with the Dark One explains much,” Gaston added. “It explains why nobody could wake you. There’s something wrong with you, something evil, perhaps that’s why Maleficent retreated. If you had loved us, then we could have woken you.”

“That’s not true,” Belle gasped. “I sacrificed myself for Avonlea! I love this kingdom.”

Even as she said the words Belle could tell her argument was going to be in vain. Their hearts were hardened against her, they weren’t going to listen, they had made up their minds long ago. Their failure to wake her was obviously her fault, it couldn’t possibly be theirs, and loving Rumplestiltskin only confirmed their beliefs. It was so unfair, so prejudiced, and so wrong, and Belle knew that she shouldn’t have expected any different - but she’d hoped. She could see the fury rising on Rumplestiltskin’s face, but him lashing out in her defense would only make this worse, it would only serve to offer proof to their otherwise baseless accusations. She wasn’t evil and their love wasn’t wrong.

Belle shook her head, she’d sacrificed everything for Avonlea, and she would do it again in a heartbeat. This did make her wonder slightly why she’d bothered but the second that question crossed her mind she knew the answer - that’s what heroes did. She had always wanted to be a hero, to try and live up to that ideal. Heroes helped people, even if those people weren’t grateful. It wasn’t about thanks, it was just about doing the right thing. However, perhaps there was a limit to the amount of sacrificing someone should do.

She cared deeply about her people, and she was concerned for how they would fare under Gaston’s leadership, but then he was no worse than her father. The situation in Avonlea might not improve, but the people’s circumstance wouldn’t worsen. Belle’s lip trembled, did she even have a choice at all? Her father’s mind was made up, Gaston would be king in name and fact. Whatever hope she’d had of exerting any influence was now gone. There was really nothing she could do, even if she stayed and tried to argue for her position. She was never going to be queen. She’d lost her kingdom, in the same moment that she had saved it.

“Rumple, take me home,” Belle requested, surprising herself at how strong and calm her voice was.

Right now she didn’t feel strong and calm, she felt weak and lost. It had been foolish to have such hope that they would understand, because she knew these people better than that. She supposed it had been wishful thinking more than anything else. She had wanted them to be better, and thought that if she had hoped hard enough then everything would be alright.

Belle felt Rumplestiltskin stride over to her. She could see him glaring daggers at everyone in the room, before gesturing sharply. The smoke whisked them away to the entrance hall of a different castle - his castle and her new home.

Chapter Four

Rumplestiltskin was spitting mad. It had taken everything in him not to turn the miserable lot of them into snails, and crush them under his boot. Only the certain knowledge that Belle wouldn’t approve had stayed his hand. After all Belle had shown Maleficent, her enemy who had destroyed entire villages, mercy. Ungrateful wretches the lot of them, they called themselves Belle’s friends and family and then spat on her sacrifice. He couldn’t blame Belle for wanting to get away from them, and so he had brought her here, he had brought her - home.

His fingers rubbed together nervously. Belle had requested that he took her home, and as they had been at her home already it was obvious she had some place else in mind, but that didn’t necessarily mean his home. That had been presumptuous of him. Rumplestiltskin opened his mouth to offer to take Belle anywhere she wished to go, when he heard the heavy clunk of a door being pushed open. He trailed after Belle as she entered the great hall, and glanced around. He had a lot of trinkets on display on pedestals, he thought she’d probably find those interesting but he wasn’t sure whether the rest of the place would meet with her approval. He regarded the dust with a critical eye, magic kept the place relatively clean but it wasn’t good with the fine detail.

Belle turned to look at him. “It’s so dark in here.”

“Well it is the dark castle dearie,” Rumplestiltskin quipped.

“Ah of course.” Belle laughed, and wandered over to the windows. She tugged on the curtains before shooting him an amused and exasperated expression. “Did you nail them down?”

“Yes,” Rumplestiltskin confirmed hesitantly. “When ... you said you wanted to go home ...”

“Home, with you.” Belle smiled, wandering over and taking both of his hands into hers. She glanced back over to the curtains. “We can deal with the curtains tomorrow. What time is it?”

“Ah, probably dinner time. You must be hungry after the curse.” Rumplestiltskin waved his hand and suddenly the table was practically groaning with a veritable feast. He had no idea what she liked and so there was something of everything.

Belle’s eyes widened. “We can eat and talk I guess, and we do need to talk Rumple.”

The next thing Rumplestiltskin knew he was sitting in his customary seat at the head of the table, and Belle had dragged her chair so it was almost on the corner. She put some food on her plate, and after he didn’t make a move to do the same, put food on his plate as well. She squeezed his hand gently and smiled. He had a feeling Belle smiled a lot, it was something he’d noticed about her in the dream world. A smile to Belle wasn’t just that she was happy, it could mean a lot of different things, and this smile had a slight sad tinge to it. A lump grew in his throat, as he mentally cursed her family once again. Belle deserved better than them - she deserved better than him.

“I love you,” Belle said suddenly. Rumplestiltskin dropped his fork onto his plate. “That’s what true loves kiss means, we love one another.”

“You don’t know ... a few cups of tea ... once you know me, you won’t like what you find,” Rumplestiltskin warned.

Belle sighed and grabbed his hand again. “We have a lifetime to get to know one another, and the magic wouldn’t have sparked if we didn’t love each others true selves. You saw me for who I truly am, when you brought that scroll to translate ...” She shook her head. “You listen to me, you care about what I think ...”

“You’re incredible Belle,” Rumplestiltskin murmured, casting his gaze down at the table, wincing at the sight of their hands together. “I’m a difficult man to love.”

“Love isn’t supposed to be easy, it should be layered, a mystery to be uncovered,” Belle said earnestly. “You’re supposed to be the sorcerer here, you must know that true loves kiss requires both parties to feel the same. It’s not just you that loves who I truly am, I love who you truly are. Details do matter but as I said we have ... forever.”

Rumplestiltskin swallowed. He knew he should say something but he wasn’t sure what to say. It was all just too incredible to believe. Belle didn’t seem to be perturbed by his silence and he watched as she took several bites of dinner. She was right about true loves kiss, that was how it worked, it was the rarest and simultaneously the most well known magic in all the land. Everyone hoped to be blessed with it and his mind just stuttered and froze when he considered that it had happened to him. He was a monster, a beast, and before the darkness he’d been no prize; beneath the magic he was still a cowardly spinner. How could anyone love that?

“Were you born the dark one?” Belle asked.

“No,” Rumplestiltskin answered slowly, unease bubbling up inside him as his blood ran cold. Belle cocked her head curiously, obviously having noticed his reaction. “It’s technically a curse.”

His power was born from a curse. What had happened earlier, it had definitely been true loves kiss. As much as he was denying it was possible, it was undeniable; that was the only thing that could have woken Belle from the sleeping curse, and the pulse of magic was unmistakable. True loves kiss should have broken the curse of the dark one, so why hadn’t it? What was even more frightening is that he hadn’t even thought about his power at all.

He’d been so consumed with doubt over whether it would even work, and so certain that he had to try anyway because Belle didn’t deserve to suffer, that he hadn’t even considered the consequences. This was why love was weakness, he didn’t often miss things, and when he did it was always because his emotions had taken hold. If he’d lost his power ... he shuddered at the possibility, and ruthlessly forced his mind to focus on why that hadn’t happened, so as not to think about the disaster being rendered powerless would have been.

“Perhaps ... true loves kiss,” Rumplestiltskin stuttered. “Perhaps it can only break one curse at a time.”

Belle shrugged. “Or maybe it’s not a curse.” He frowned at her, he’d just told her it was a curse. On his look she continued. “You said technically it’s a curse. Presumably breaking a curse requires intent, and I fell in love with you as you are. If you want to break it ...”

“No, no,” Rumplestiltskin said hastily.

“Then that’s settled.” Belle smiled.

Rumplestiltskin forgot to breathe as she reached over, cupping his cheek with her palm. Her hand was so soft and warm, and he couldn’t help but lean into her touch. He was still utterly shell-shocked by the events of the day. Instinctively he wanted to label everything a trick because nobody could actually love him, but he’d felt true loves kiss. Even now he could feel the magic inside his heart, warming him from the inside when he’d been so cold for so long.

After a moment Belle took her hand back and resumed eating her dinner. Rumplestiltskin forced himself to eat, in between sneaking awed glances at her. If it hadn’t been for the magic then he would have thought this was a dream. That somehow the dream dust had sent him into a dream world of his own. Villains didn’t get happy endings, and he was the beast - the Dark One. How could this be happening to him?

“What are you thinking?” Belle asked, reaching out to cover his hand with hers again. “I know that this is a big adjustment - for the both of us. True loves kiss doesn’t guarantee a happily ever after, that only happens in stories. This is more a ... a happy beginning. Does that sound right?”

“That sounds perfect,” Rumplestiltskin agreed hoarsely. He gestured to her empty plate with his free hand. “Are you finished?”

“Yes, it was lovely. What will happen to ...” Belle gestured to the table which was still groaning with food.

“Magic,” Rumplestiltskin quipped, waving his hand and banishing the food with a puff of smoke.

It took as much effort magically to keep the food safe for future consumption, as it did to transport it elsewhere. He couldn’t abide waste, too many years of going hungry as a spinner, but it would ruin his reputation if he started sending food to poor villages. He was the Dark One and the Dark One did nothing for free - all magic came with a price. Thinking of magic, his lips quirked as an idea came to him, something he thought Belle would like.

“A full tour can wait until the morning but there is something I think you’d like to see,” Rumplestiltskin teased, as he stood up from the table.

Belle held out her hand and he hesitantly took it, gently holding it as he led her from the great hall. The Dark Castle could be quite the labyrinth, but then that could be said for a lot of castles as it made for a good structural security measure. He took her the most direct way he knew to the East tower. It had been empty until a few minutes ago, but magic could do much, and really it was long overdue. There were countless books in various storage rooms all over the Dark Castle, he hoarded knowledge and would regularly accept tomes in deals but he’d never bothered to do anything with them. Not until now, when his magic summoned them all and created a library that he hoped would please Belle.

He threw open the door and blinked, impressed despite himself. He hadn’t realized he had quite that many books. They stretched up on shelves high into the tower, rolling ladders providing access to the higher ones. The shelves were only half full but then there were probably a lot of gaps in his collection. He collected books of knowledge, not books of story, but he would remedy that in the next few days. Perhaps he would visit Avonlea’s royal castle, Belle should have her own things and if the dream world was accurate, she had quite the book collection in her room. He was sure she would like to keep that.

“It’s ... it’s beautiful.” Reverently Belle ran her hand along the spines of the books on the nearest shelf. “There’s more books in here than I could read in a lifetime.”

“Well you probably won’t want to read all of them,” Rumplestiltskin said uncomfortably, relishing the look of wonder on Belle’s face even as he ran from the implied praise. This had been a good idea. “A lot of esoteric magic, some of it could be dangerous.”

“I’ll be careful,” Belle promised softly. “Perhaps we could read sometimes together? Or ... what do you like to do with your free time?”

“I spin, I like to watch the wheel,” Rumplestiltskin replied, impulsively waving his hand.

With a puff of smoke the spinning wheel from his tower was transported into the library. He still had the larger spinning wheel in the great hall, he was sure Belle had noticed it earlier. He watched as her eyes moved between him and the wheel, and then she beamed, striding over and hugging his arm.

“That’s perfect Rumple,” Belle murmured.

“Yes, well, it’s not ... it’s getting late. I’ll show you to your quarters.”

Rumplestiltskin took a step forward, feeling Belle’s fingers tangle with his again as she grabbed his hand. He swallowed, he didn’t think he would ever get used to Belle willingly touching him. He didn’t reach for her, he didn’t dare, but Belle clearly had no such reservations. It was jarring, Maleficent was right they were beauty and the beast, and it was probably the coward in him talking but he couldn’t pull away.

Her touch brought him more peace than spinning ever had, the voices fading to nothing as if they couldn’t bear her brilliant light. However, all too soon they were outside the room that now belonged to Belle, and Rumplestiltskin knew he had to let her go until morning, when maybe she would reach for his hand again as he gave her the full tour of the Dark Castle.

“These are your quarters.” Rumplestiltskin pushed the door open, showing a room just as large and ornate as the one Belle had called her own back in Avonlea.

“Where are yours?” Belle asked curiously.

Rumplestiltskin pointed across the corridor and Belle let go of his hand, striding over and pushing the door open. Nervously he licked his lips. His magic had prepared Belle’s quarters for her based on his memories of her quarters in Avonlea, but maybe that wasn’t a good memory for her now. He didn’t use his quarters much because he didn’t need to sleep, and staring at the ceiling lost in memories and regrets held little appeal, and so if Belle preferred his room then it was hers. Belle wandered into the room and hesitantly he followed, keeping several paces behind her.

Belle turned and smiled at him, bringing her hair over one shoulder, baring the creamy skin of her neck to his gaze. “Help me with my dress?”

His hands fluttered helplessly, as he took a couple of steps forward. Belle was a princess, she was used to maids, and Maleficent had dressed her in this golden monstrosity with magic. It was only natural that Belle would require aid. Rumplestiltskin lifted his hand to magic Belle into a simpler garment, but she grabbed his hand, a trace of nervousness flashing across her face.

“I meant what I said earlier. True loves kiss is more binding than any ceremony so it is our wedding night,” Belle explained. Rumplestiltskin’s jaw dropped and Belle’s expression turned uncertain. “If you aren’t ready then we don’t have to but I do confess a certain ... curiosity.”

Rumplestiltskin laughed, he couldn’t help it, curiosity is what had started them down this road. If he hadn’t been curious about Belle then they wouldn’t be here, and she would still be trapped in an eternal sleep. Belle pulled her hand back, her face falling and Rumplestiltskin winced at her hurt expression, she’d misunderstood his laughter.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, it’s just what you said, this is like a dream come true. I really can’t believe ...” Rumplestiltskin struggled but to his relief Belle smiled again.

Belle took a slow step forward and threw her arms around his neck, resting her forehead against his. “Kiss me?” Gingerly Rumplestiltskin brushed his lips against hers, feeling the spark of true love hum in his veins. Breathlessly Belle laughed, her nerves fading away. “Kiss me again, it’s working.”

Magic pooled in his hands, the stiff-boned golden dress disappearing, leaving Belle in her soft white shift. A genuine smile crossed Rumplestiltskin’s face, and impulsively he scooped Belle into his arms, turning towards the bed. A large part of him was still standing in the doorway, slack-jawed and stunned at Belle’s talk of ‘their wedding night’, but the rest of him felt the magic and warmth of true love. They had the rest of their lives and it all started tonight.

A happy beginning now was theirs.

#tinuviel-undomiel #maydaymenagerie #may day menagerie #rumbelle #rumbelle fic #once upon a time #sleeping beauty AU

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thestraggletag · 6 years

Text

Still Waters, a May Day Menagerie Fic

Giftee: @little-inkstone

Prompt: Rumbelle + aquatic creature (I chose a Kelpie)

Summary: There’s a horse at the Mills Stables, a bony, pitiful creature with sad eyes Belle cannot help but feel drawn to. Coincidentally she feels the same way about Mr Gold, whose eyes are also melancholic, and the same startling hazel shade.

Rating: M for sex and gore.

AN: Surprise, @little-inkstone! Though you must have figured it out it is I, your... secret Zookeeper! I hope you enjoy this story. The ending fought be like a bitch, but I managed to subdue it. Sorry for the lateness of the delivery!

Tagging @maydaymenagerie for reasons.

Belle knew she was lucky. She was hardly the first person to even have to take up a second job because her first one wasn't enough to pay the bills. At least she loved both her jobs. She had always wanted to be a librarian, had always wanted to work surrounded by books. But she also loved horses, both passions inherited from her mother, so it wasn't hard for her to sacrifice her weekends and her free afternoons to work as a stable hand at the one local stable, owned by Henry Mills. As far as she knew horse-raising wasn't what accounted for the family's lavish lifestyle, but rather an exorbitant hobby, a status symbol. Cora Mills, who rumour had it had come from nothing, was an adept social climber and considered horse-riding something his daughter, Regina, needed to learn to earn her place in society. It also appeared to have the bonus of keeping the girl happy, which in turn made her less likely to fight her mother when she made decisions of her.

Belle wasn't very interested in the details, or in having anything at all to do with the Mills. But the pay was good, her boss, Daniel, was nice, and being near horses again- she hadn't had much contact with horses ever since they'd left Australia- felt good, even if the work was hard and the demands high. Daniel ran a tight ship but was kind and had a real love for the animals, which Belle was grateful for. The horses were well-kept and well-behaved, always closely monitored by the vet, specially the two polo ponies, one American and the other Argentinian. Belle took to both of them immediately, given their gentle nature. She particularly enjoyed braiding their tails before a game, since she felt both horses enjoyed the pampering.

Besides the polo ponies and two show jumpers there was a thoroughbred called Rocinante, a gorgeous chestnut that Regina Mills herself was personally training for dressage, and some older horses kept mostly for breeding. At the back, though, almost hidden away, was a box stall she hadn't noticed at first. It was unkempt, since no one seemed to be in charge of cleaning it, and housed a rather strange horse. Average in size but powerfully built, though too thin to appear healthy. It was black, with the strangest whiskey-coloured eyes she'd ever seen on a horse, and a long, matted mane. He looked close to emaciated but when she took her concerns to Daniel he surprisingly shrugged her off.

"I felt the same when I started out here, and it still doesn't sit well with me that we aren't allowed to care for the horse, but I can guarantee you the bastard's not gonna die. He's looked pretty much that way for years. Hell, I'm not even sure how old it is, but it's probably the oldest horse any of us has ever seen. It's strange, but I don't question it. Mrs Mills takes care of him herself, or so she says. Can't say I've seen her around here much, but the old boy's being kept alive somehow. And he's got enough strength to be a pain in the ass."

The horse had a foul temper, and was prone to acts of malice, though it seemed incongruous to describe a horse's actions in such a way. He wasn't just violent, there was a sort of rationality to his thinking that unnerved her. He wasn't simply destructive or ill-behaved, there was a level of cunning to his actions, something Belle couldn't quite put into words.

And as much as that did terrify her, it wasn't enough to diminish the pity she felt for the creature, malnourished and unloved as he was. He cut a pathetic figure most of the time, listless and isolated, his ribs prominent and most of his neck and muzzle covered by his matted hair. His eyes reflected a sort of sadness that made her think of when she'd lost her mom to cancer and her dad had retreated into himself, unable to cope. It'd damaged their relationship forever and had filled her with a deep-seated loneliness she had never quite managed to shake off. The horse had the same look she'd seen in the mirror often back then, and could still see now, sometimes.

It was that what made her reach out, at first with small bits of food. Though some horses, like the two polo ponies, were under a strict diet, she was allowed to give others small snacks, mostly apples- the Mills had an orchard, which made them plentiful around the stables. She tried at first to tentatively feed the stallion pieces of apple from her hand, but he reared back, often hitting the door of the stall, exactly where she leaned against. Though the floor of his stall was mucky and the straw dirty she had no choice but to drop the apple slices, hoping he'd eat them out of the floor if he refused to do so out of her hand. Though he never touched the red apples the horse did devour the green apple slices, which Belle counted as her first win.

Sometimes the stallion was out of the stables. Daniel told her Mrs Mills would sometimes fetch him early in the morning to let him out for a bit, though he was never out in the paddock. Apparently, due to his hostility, he was taken to some other paddock deep in the Mill's property, where Belle hoped he could at least enjoy some fresh air and graze. The stable was calmer in his absence, most of the horses seeming to relax visibly without him there. They were all docile animals, used to the company of each other and the presence of strange horses when they were taken to competitions or matches. But, for some reason, they were terrified of the old stallion, often cowering in a corner of their stalls whenever he'd pitch a fit for some perceived slight or the other.

It was during one of those quiet days that Belle first saw Mr Gold. She'd heard of him before, both in Storybrooke and around the stable, but even though lots of people had mentioned him to her she soon realised there was little that people actually knew about the man. Everyone spoke about him as if he'd always lived in Storybrooke, but his distinctive Scottish accent indicated he must have moved in at some point, though no one remembered, not even Granny, who'd lived all her life in the small town.

His vague origins added an extra layer of mystery to an already mysterious man. His accent wasn't the only thing to set him apart, his three-piece suits, long hair and cane also helped make him unique amongst the usual small-town dwellers. He was soft-spoken but there was an undercurrent of menace to him, something that made it easy for Belle to believe he was as dangerous as rumour had it. Whenever she saw him it was usually from a distance, Mrs Mills draped around one of his arms in a rather possessive way. He was an impeccable, impenetrable figure next to her, usually sneering, looking supremely bored.

She'd thought he had him all figured out at first. Someone nasty, like Cora was, likely amoral since it was pretty clear he was carrying on with Mrs Mill behind Mr Mills’ back, unfeeling and greedy. He owned most of Storybrooke, including the land the Mills used as their own, and was known for being unforgiving when it came to the rent or his deals. Whenever he was out with Mrs Mills he acted as if everyone was beneath his notice, as if he barely noticed people. What made Belle the most uneasy, though, was how the horses acted around him. If he approached any of their stalls they'd get strangely nervous and fidgety, and if he remained nearby they'd have to be removed, lest they hurt themselves. Belle was a firm believer in horses’ ability to judge character, which added to Mr Gold's dangerous aura.

But almost against her will she began to see another side of him, the more she randomly ran into him. She didn't know exactly when that started happening, but she couldn't say she was particularly displeased. For all his nefarious reputation and shady relationship to her boss Mr Gold was cultured and sharp, with the sort of dark sense of humour she preferred. And he was, for the most part, all bark and no bite, at least with her and specially once she began laughing at his darker remarks.

He was a lonely soul, she soon discovered, which perhaps accounted for why he intrigued her so. She was lonely too, after all, no longer a stranger new to Storybrooke like she'd been years ago but still a bit of an outsider. The horses helped, which meant she quickly got into the habit of taking a book with her to the stables and reading during breaks or once she was off the clock. She'd wander around the forested area surrounding the Mill's property- well, Gold's, apparently- and pick a spot to sit down and read. Mr Gold came across her sporadically, at first, still pristine-looking in his pressed suits and shined shoes even in the middle of the woods, but soon it became a ritual of sorts. Somehow, for whatever reason, she'd bump into Gold at least once a week, but oftentimes more, and they'd trade quips and sometimes talk about the book she was reading.

She discovered Mr Gold was extremely well-versed in classic literature, even obscure titles she had been pretty sure no one else had heard of in boring little Storybrooke. Of modern literature, however, he had no idea, so she got into the habit of loudly telling him when she'd leave a book in the stables instead of taking it home. He'd use a piece of braided leather to mark his spot, a sort of faded strip that seemed ancient and smelt faintly of something water-y. For some reason instinct told her not to tell anyone, to hide away her small interactions with Mr Gold away in the woods, save from the eyes and ears of Mrs Mills. She even made sure to keep her encounters from Daniel, who was, thankfully, a little too distracted with Regina Mills to notice anything.

It was around the time she began to low-key share her books with Gold that she made progress with the stallion, being able to approach his stall without him slamming the door in warning and feeding him apples from the palm of her hand. Up close the horse was even more imposing and pathetic at the same time, with protruding ribs, sunken eyes and what appeared to be a big iron ring on his right back leg. The skin around the ring looked red and angry, and the horse did not completely rest the hoof on the floor, as if it'd pain him to do so. When she mentioned wanting to remove it to Daniel, however, he told her not to bother.

"I took the issue up with Mrs Mills years ago, she told me on no uncertain terms that I was not to remove the ring. Of course, I tried to anyway, thing looks rusted over and like it's causing a considerable amount of pain, but was unable to. Believe me, I tried every which way. Thing just wouldn't budge. Horse seems fine with it, other than the limp, no infections or anything like that, so I just live it alone. I know it feels wrong, but there's nothing you can do."

Cora Mills wasn't a horsewoman. She could barely tolerate the stench and feel of the stables, and didn't go near any of the many horses kept there. Yet she seemed almost obsessed with the old stallion, and guarded him jealously, while at the same time doing little in the way of grooming or caring for it, to the point that oftentimes Belle would spend close to an hour finger-combing the horse's mane, removing brittle pieces of greenery and undoing what felt like ages-old knots. The horse would nuzzle against her hands in gratitude, some spark of something returning to his dull eyes. Whatever Mrs Mills did in the stables at night- Daniel had warned her against working late, telling her it was strictly forbidden- when she was supposed to be taking care of the animal was a mystery to her, because it was plain as day that there was no actual caring taking place, the neglect etched into every visible part of the animal.

That particular mystery was revealed to her one night, when she discovered she'd forgotten her keys back at the Mills’ and rushed to the stables to get them. The employee's changing rooms- Mrs Mills was a stickler for cleanliness and would not allow any of the stable hands anywhere close to her own home- where right next to the stables, which was how she was able to hear the strange thumping sounds. Hoping to be able to catch Mrs Mills actually abusing the stallion, anything concrete that would allow her to get the attention of someone other than the Sheriff's department, that would not take her animal abuse claims seriously- she crept close to the doors of the stable and pried one open just enough to see inside. The moon was full, providing enough light to see into the stables. She noticed right away that one of the wide wooden benches, which were usually kept on the very back, covered by horse blankets and an assortment of grooming supplies and bridles and saddles taken from their perch to be cleaned or delivered back to the tack room at a later time had been moved to the middle of the stables, covered by a bright red horse blanket she'd never seen anyone use, the sort of thing that seemed too luxurious and delicate to throw over an animal. There was someone lying on the bench, stark-naked, arms grasping the sides of it. She recognised the silver-streaked soft brown hair and the crooked nose before she even became aware of the other person in the room, sitting astride the first body, moving in an unmistakable fashion. Even without seeing her face there was no mistaken that auburn-tinted hair, nor those blood-red nails, digging painfully into the skin of the prone figure. It was Cora Mills, completely naked as well, looking like the years had been more than kind to her. It wasn't Mr Mills bellow her, perhaps indulging some fetish or secret pleasure of his wife, but Mr Gold. His eyes were closed, head thrown back and an expression the hovered between disgust and bliss on his usually blank face. He had scratches on his side, blood looking black as it seemed from them, and yet he was making no move to pull Cora's claws away from his exposed flesh, nor did he do anything to stop her as she rode him mercilessly.

She took a couple of steps back, almost forgetting to stay quiet. There was a nauseous sense of betrayal threatening to choke her, though she knew she had no right to it. If there was someone who was deserving of such a feeling was poor Mr Mills, kind as a lamb and likely completely unaware of the sordid little arrangement, tucked into bed thinking his wife might be revising some contracts or perhaps taking a long hot bath. And though she liked Mr Mills, liked his kind eyes, his even kinder words and the affection with which he showered his one and only daughter, Belle couldn't say she felt betrayed in his name. Whatever she was feeling was personal, in a way she had no right to. Underneath it, though, there was something else, a sense of wrongness that had nothing to do with what she might have thought was growing between herself and the older man. Something that disturbed her and she couldn't quite pinpoint how or why.

Cora's shrill cries of pleasure turned her attention almost in spite of herself back to the inside of the stables. Unable to look elsewhere her eyes became glued to Mr Gold's face, caught somewhere between pain and pleasure. Finally, he tipped his head back, lips parting to soundlessly whisper something before he came. It was just a small word, five letters that she couldn't even be sure he'd mouthed, but they shocked her into painful awareness, allowing her to silently slip away from the stables and back home as fast as her legs could carry her.

Belle. He's said Belle.

It was inevitable for things to get awkward after that, even after Belle spent an entire weekend trying to rationally convince herself nothing that she had seen was any of her business and she had no right getting offended by Mrs Mills and Mr Gold's extracurricular activities. In a way it confirmed rumours that she'd heard before, so it shouldn't even have shocked her all that much. But in spite of all that she still found herself spending less time reading in the forest, nursing some hurt feelings she wasn't really entitled to. Inevitably Mr Gold noticed and pull back, widening the distance between them that had shrunk so fast the last couple of months. It left Belle feeling petty and miserable, which in turn made her grouchy and less than welcoming.

So, what if Mr Gold had opened up to her about a few things, told her about his favourite spot, a cabin hidden in the woods, next to a river? So, what if he'd told her how it reminded him of the cottage he'd been brought up in, under the loving care of two doting aunts? His confidences didn't really give her right to be jealous or feel betrayed. And at the back of her head something niggled, some sort of revelation she couldn't quite consciously grasp yet and it bothered her. There was a certain sense of urgency attached to it that made her uneasy. The horses, bright and sensitive as they were, could tell, and they became increasingly skittish around her. The old stallion, on the other hand, became quiet and taciturn, reluctant to be tempted by her apples or her offering of pettings.

So, when she had the first dream, she attached it all to her unstable emotional state and the shock of what she'd seen. The dream itself was fussy and unclear at first, mostly the feeling of slippery scales under her fingertips and the sensation of someone smiling against the skin of her hip, pointed teeth scraping her there. But as time passed the dream became more and more defined. She began to hear sounds and see glimpses of colour, flashes of images that finally coalesced into the form of a man, tough not a traditional one. He had skin that shifted from green to grey to gold, scaly in texture, and claws. His face was hidden from her, though she sometimes caught glimpses of his golden eyes in the dark, watching her avidly.

She was always naked in her dreams, though she didn't know she knew that, but it never made her feel vulnerable or defenceless. Sometimes he'd simply watch her from the shadows, though other times he'd pet her hair, sinking his claws into it with obvious relish. And other times he was all over her, teeth and hands and skin groping, biting and sliding against every part of her he could reach. Though somehow, she knew her phantom lover was dangerous she did not fear him in her dreams, not even when he gripped her hips tight, claws sinking into her skin, or when held her arms up above her head in a vicious grip as he fucked her. Far from becoming frightened or submissive her dream self was just as savage, if not more. She bit back, thrashed against him, feeling nothing but sweet triumph whenever she could flip them around and have him beneath her, powerful and feral and completely at her mercy. They didn't have sex as much as rutted like animals, unlike anything she'd ever felt she'd be comfortable with in real life.

Unwilling to see her satisfying yet unsettling new sex dreams as connected in any way, shape or form to whatever she'd stumbled into a few weeks ago at the stables she decided instead that it was just her healthy mind coping with happened to be a very long dry spell. Not that she minded it, really, not when the alternative was subpar. She'd never been able to find small-town men to be much attractive. There was a small-world mentality to them she shied away from, even in men like Sheriff Graham that were pleasing to the eye and genuinely nice. It didn't help that the "genuinely nice men" like the sheriff were rather an exception. Most of the Storybrooke singles scene was dominated by lowlifes like Keith Nott or Arthur Penn or men like Greg Aston, who seemed to be in a committed, long-term relationship with himself. Her mother had always told her that companionship ought to feel better than being alone, and not to settle for less. And Belle was really okay, happy even, to be by herself, at least in comparison to what it'd be like to be paired up in a town like Storybrooke.

But she did get lonely, and needy, which explained the dreams and her quick, instinctual attachment to Mr Gold, as unfortunate and ill-boding as it had been. So reluctantly, but in the spirit of self-improvement and being brave, he allowed Ruby, the town matchmaker, to set her up with a man. And such a charming man he was, with a cute accent, a small build- Belle hated people towering over her- and a scrappy sense of humour. Will was perfect, except he was perfectly in love with his ex, and Belle felt no sexual attraction to him, dangerous looks and arresting accent or not.

Though her blind date turned more into a friendly meeting, complete with a phone call from the ex in the middle of it and later on a happy recounting of how his ex and he had decided to try to make things work, Belle didn't much mind it, happy enough not to have to gently let Will down at the end of the night. She thought nothing more of it until late one afternoon, when Keith cornered her at the end of her shift, while she was putting away the curry combs and dandy brushes she'd used and setting aside the bits of horse tack that needed to be put away. She never quite figured why Keith still worked at the stables. Daniel didn't tolerate him and even Mr Mills appeared to frown upon the man's almost constantly hangover estate. The way she figured out Keith was still gainfully employed mostly because he'd wear wifebeaters and flex his muscles a lot whenever Mrs Mills was around, which apparently made him a qualified stable hand. He was competent whenever his eye-to-hand coordination wasn't impaired but he had no love for the animals, and they in turn had no love for him.

He had mostly kept his distance from her, due in great part to how Daniel tended to always keep an eye on him. But Daniel had left shortly after she'd clocked in, having left to accompany Miss Mills to a dressage event, reason why Rocinante's stall was empty. She'd given it a thorough cleaning, which was why she was late to tidy up and clock out. She hadn't even thought about the possibility that it'd mean she'd be stuck alone with Keith and no one else, but the moment she became aware of it, when Keith came out of nowhere to try and grab her ass, it was too late.

"Thought you were done being a frigid bitch, Belle."

Keith had learned over the years to fake sobriety, but his eyes were bloodshot and his breath, up close and personal, stank of cheap bourbon. She tried to brush him aside and head towards the women's changing rooms, which locked from the inside, but he grabbed her wrist and violently turned her around to face him again.

"I don't have time for this, Keith. Please let go."

She willed her voice not to waver, not to show how scared she was becoming. she visibly flinched at the sound of hooves smashing against a stall door, but Keith paid it no mind.

"What, thought you liked a good English accent. Thought that's what did it for you. It's a good selling point for a lot of ladies, no need to be embarrassed."

He was trying to sound cajoling, seductive, but his posture was more threatening than enticing. Against her better judgement she moved backwards, deeper into the stables. She knew Keith was scared of the old stallion, though he tried to pretend otherwise, and thankfully the old boy was feeling feisty. If she managed to get close enough to the stall Keith might think twice before trying to grab her.

The drink, however, was giving him a false sense of bravado so when the horse again knocked hard on the stall door to almost tear it off its hinges he flinched, but quickly recovered.

"When the time comes I'll drive you to the glue factory myself, you sack of bones."

He banged on the door with an open fist, meaning to scare the animal. The horse, however, moved lightning-fast, managing to get its muzzle in between the bars and bite hard on the hand. Keith howled, so loudly Belle was surprised the sound didn't reach the big house and alert anyone. He tried to yank his hand back but the horse had a tight grip on it, and didn't look like he was going to budge. When she caught sight of the blood dripping onto the floor Belle herself panicked, throwing caution to the wind and reaching out to pet the bridge of the animal's nose, cooing soft nonsense at it until it let go. Keith stumbled out of the stables faster than she would've thought possible and though she knew she should've gone after him, made sure at least that he would get help, she didn't. She was too caught-up staring at the horse's eyes, spying the malicious intent and satisfied smugness there. He was lapping up the blood smeared around his muzzle, as if it was some rare delicacy and as he did so she caught a glimpse of gold. A gold tooth, which she'd never noticed before. One that reminded her of-

Fuck.

She raced out of the room, overwhelmed by a sudden realisation. That niggling feeling on the back of her head, that notion that she'd noticed something significant, something life-changing was back with a vengeance, and against her will her mind went back to that time he'd stumbled across Mrs Mills and Mr Gold having sex in the stables. What she had noticed and somehow erased from her conscious memory was the iron ring around Mr Gold's right ankle, so familiar to her. A ring she'd studied hundreds of times before but not on the businessman's foot, but rather her stallion's right leg.

The horse and Mr Gold were one of the same. It was nonsensical but at the same time it felt like the most obvious and plausible explanation.

For some reason Storybrooke had rather a healthy folklore section at the library, with some of the library's oldest and most valuable books in it, which Belle promptly transferred to her apartment upstairs to pour into them with as much privacy as possible. Her mother had always told her stories and legends about horses, so she had some sort of idea about what she was looking for. It became more about confirming her suspicions than anything else, and by the time she was done and it was almost morning she knew for certain: Cora Mills had trapped a kelpie.

Mr Gold... there was no Mr Gold. He was an illusion, a facade. As was the old horse. The true creature she'd never seen, though she'd caught a glimpse of it the other night, when he'd almost devoured Keith's entire hand. It explained so much, as ridiculous as she knew it sounded: why the horse was never fed but never died, how it seemed to be ancient and far too intelligent for a common animal, why Mr Gold looked so desperately unhappy, why the Mills lived on what was technically his property.

It was out of the question to do nothing once she knew. Belle had been raised to value her independence and free will above all, to be the one to decide her own fate. To have that taken away felt wrong. It didn't matter to her if the kelpie was likely far from a good creature. The legends spoke about a mean-spirited demon, an imp, a trickster that drowned and devoured people, but it didn't make him deserving of enslavement, specially under the hands of someone as naturally-cruel as Mrs Mills.

Though Belle was naturally an impulsive person she forced herself to plan, to ensure she'd be successful in breaking the kelpie out. The trick, of course, had to be in the iron ring. She purchased and practiced using a variety of different tools that might be able to pry it open, determined to think Daniel had just not tried the right thing when he had unknowingly attempted to set the creature free. She also packed a silver cross, which was meant to potentially protect her against the kelpie, should he prove to be ungrateful towards his liberator, or hungry enough to try and take a bite out of her.

The night before she was set to carry out her plan she dreamt of her phantom lover laying her out in a bed of moss and licking and biting every inch of her, driving his cock into her cunt until she felt she had no strength to orgasm anymore. Afterwards, as they laid in a tangle of sweaty limbs, he told her in a sing-songy voice of all the pleasure that still awaited her, all the different ways in which he'd make her climax the following night.

"I'm sorry, I can't. I have to free him. Mr Gold. The horse. I have to free him."

Suddenly she was clothed, her pyjamas sticky against her cooling body, and a hand was grabbing her by the throat, chocking her. In front of her she saw Mr Gold, only his eyes were golden and he had seaweed in his hair.

"You foolish child." His accent was so thick she was barely able to understand him. "Don't play around with monsters, dearie, you might not live long enough to regret it."

She'd woken up swearing she could still feel Gold's hand squeezing her neck, but she forced herself to shrug the dream off and continue with the plan. Daniel was accompanying Regina to a show-jumping event far enough to require more than a day's absence- she rather thought it was one of the main reasons Regina was participating in the event at all, given hoe lacklustre she'd been about jumping lately- which meant it was the perfect time to do it. Being the only current female employer meant it was easy to simply hide away in the women's changing room once her shift was up and wait for it to get dark. Once it was fully dark out and she was sure that Mrs Mills wasn't about to indulge in one of her... midnight rides Belle sneaked back into the stabled, hauling her bag of tools towards the last stall, where the horse seemed to strangely be waiting for her. He looked more tired than normal, as if even his usual meagre strength had been siphoned away, but tried to put up a fight once she got to her knees in front of his shackled leg, frantically trying to keep the limb out of her reach.

Through sheer force of will and determination she managed to wrestle the creature into submission, which gave her the opportunity to study the iron ring closely for the first time. It was smooth and not overly thick, but thick enough not to be able to cut away with pliers. There was no lock or hinges, only a crude melted line that seemed to have been hastily and sloppily forged. Hoping it was a weakness in the design she could exploit she made a weak attempt at prying the shackle open by pulling on both sides of the line, hoping to get a feel for it. Instead the whole thing came apart at her hands, the iron ring cracking open like an Easter egg.

"What the-?"

The horse almost fell on top of her, looking as close to death as she'd ever seen him. Whatever compulsions Cora had placed on him where gone, which also meant the full reality of his mistreatment and suffering was exposed. With gentle hands and a patience, she knew they didn't have time for Belle slowly coaxed the creature out of his stall and deep into the forest. He needed fresh water, according to what she'd read, and the river was the best source for it. The river Mr Gold talked about often, with such yearning. It made sense now.

"Come on now, we're just a few feet away now. You've been so brave and we're so close, it's all going to be al-"

It felt like getting stung by some sort of massive insect at first, uncomfortable but not overly painful. It wasn't until she felt her stomach getting wet that she looked down, noticing the blood a second before her body caught up with her and she dropped to the ground, pain exploding around her, making it hard to think. Cora Mills stood a few feet away, gun still raised and pointed where she'd been standing only a second before.

"Rumple, dear, look at yourself. So weak, so pitiful. Come back to me, precious, I'll make it all better."

Her sweet, cooing voice was thick with false concern and syrupy sweetness. A trap, a pretence. Belle moaned and turned her head to the side, noticing with unease that the kelpie was not making a run for the water, as he should, rather taking a few tentative steps towards Cora, suspicious but not completely mistrustful. Cora smiled, lips very red in the moonlight.

"That's it, that's it, my darling. We've had such good times, haven't we? We've... enjoyed each other so much. We're so alike, a true partnership. Come here, darling, surely it wasn't so bad being under my care, receiving my... enthusiastic affections."

He took a step towards her and then another. Belle whimpered as a sense of defeat washed over her, watching as the skeletal horse nuzzled against Cora's carefully-coiffed hair. A second later, however, he was grabbing the thick auburn locks with his teeth and was violently dragging the woman towards the river, acting as though her struggles and screams were of little importance to him. Cora screeched, frantically clawing at her trapped hair, trying to tear it off. Eventually the water drowned her screams and the night turned oddly peaceful.

It was hard to determine how much time passed after that. Belle seemed to blink in and out of existence, her vision becoming more and more unfocused and blurry as time passed and the moon moved across the sky. Eventually she heard splashing and was able to see the kelpie as it emerged from the river, no longer emaciated and dirty, but rather well-fed and with a sheen to his black coat. There was also blood around his muzzle and running down his powerful neck. He approached her slowly, carefully, almost lovingly, nuzzling against her like he had done with Cora. Then he tried attempting to entice her on his back. Belle knew precious little about guns or bullet wounds, but she knew that a shot in the stomach meant a slow, painful death, and that she was unlikely to be rescued at all. In contrast drowning seemed like a much more palatable death. Quicker, for sure. And riding a magical horse, even for a few seconds, was something straight out of her wildest childhood fantasies.

The kelpie felt surprisingly warm to the touch, which made lying on his back and absolute relief to the coldness Belle could not seem to shake off. Not even the low temperature of the water seemed to diminish the sensation, and though she had no strength with which to hold onto the animal she didn't drift away, somehow, nor did her lungs burn from lack of oxygen, as if the laws of nature did not apply to her as long as she rode astride the kelpie, cocooned in whatever magic he was capable of.

At some point they got out of the river, somewhere downstream, deep in the woods. Belle saw an old cottage, vaguely English in design and looking incredibly old, moss and ivy creeping up the stone and wooden walls, threatening to engulf it. It was the cottage Mr Gold had described to her often, the one he'd built in loving memory of the place where he'd grown up back in Scotland, under the care of two lovable spinsters. Cora had kept him away from it, which explained why he talked about it with such yearning.

Once out of the water whatever trick was keeping her astride the kelpie faded, just as it did the last bit of her strength. She fell to the floor with a thud, relieved to feel only a dull sort of pain. A moment later spidery arms where wrapping around her and hoisting her up, claws snagging on her cardigan and jeans. She looked up, her eyes feeling heavy, and saw the blurry shape of her dream lover looking down at her, cooing softly at her in a familiar sort of accent.

A moment later the darkness overtook her and she could hear and see no more.

The first thing she became aware of was that she was lying in a bed of thick, soft moss, a buttery-soft blanket draped on top of her naked body. A fire roared somewhere nearby, she could both hear and feel it. It took her forever to pry her eyelids open but when she did she saw the kelpie right in front of her, peering at her intently. He looked like he had in her dreams, scales and leather covering every bit of him, wide amber eyes and sharp teeth and claws. He had seaweed in his hair as well, and Mr Gold's familiar sharp nose and thin mouth. On a rational level she knew she ought to be scared, not only because of what she'd read kelpies where capable of but because he'd seen him kill in cold blood only a few hours ago.

But even though she tried to will herself to be scared the emotion did not materialise, overridden by a burning sort of curiosity that had her reaching out, the fingertips of her right hand gliding over the smooth scales of the kelpie's face. They were dry but slippery, and oddly warm to the touch, which was unexpected. His eyes, strangely cat-like and a deep molten gold, fluttered close when she slid her fingers into his hair, fascinated by the texture of it.

"You're a wonder."

His words startled her, not just by the strange pitch of his voice but by the words themselves. It seemed incongruous for the straight-out-of-lore creature to call her a wonder, and she must have said something, because he laughed, the sound more akin to a purr.

"Not an ounce of fear in you, pretty thing, can't even smell a hint of wariness. Such light, so sparkly and warm inside you, so exquisitely bold."

One of his clawed hands began playing with the tips of her hair, tugging on it in a way that made her scalp tingle pleasantly.

"Such goodness, to bestow it even on a monster. It's no surprise Cora's nasty iron ring didn't stand a chance."

He tugged her closer using her hair, and though it forced Belle to bend close to him it didn't scare her. He pressed his nose on the spot where her neck met her shoulder, inhaling deeply.

"So sweet. Such a pretty light. Never been so close to something like it. Makes me want to gobble it up."

Even though she was absolutely certain the kelpie had not only killed but also eaten Mrs Mills his apparent desire to devour her did not provoke any sort of revulsion or alarm. If anything, it excited her.

"What- what are you going to do to me?"

The kelpie slowly clawed at the tartan blanket, coaxing it away from her body. She let him, finding it all strangely, reassuringly familiar. She'd dreamed about it countless times, after all.

"Never seen anything so pure. Wanna feast on it, get drunk on it. I'm an old kelpie, sweet one, with vast knowledge and experience. I collect things, rare things, valuable things. Things with power. Things that I feel a connection to. And you, pretty thing? You I aim to keep."

As he spoke to her he coaxed her on her back, peeling the last of the blanket off till she was naked in the firelight. The kelpie's clothes disappeared too, dissolving into thin air in that inexplicable way that happens in dreams and fantasies, though Belle knew for a fact it was neither. This was real, startlingly real, and she needed to think about the ramifications of what she'd do next. A moment later the kelpie's mouth was on hers, and her thoughts grew pleasantly muddled. It felt exactly like it had in her dreams, only more intense. The creature was all sharp edges and skinny limbs, but deceptively strong, easily pinning her to the mossy bed beneath. There was a challenge in the way he overpowered her, a provocative playfulness that made her struggle to gain the upper hand. He seemed delighted by it, nipping at her skin to encourage her to retaliate in kind and practically trembling in pleasure when she scratched him by accident.

It was a strangely-liberating experience, new and exciting and yet familiar and comforting, a primal, well-rehearsed danced they practiced a hundred times before in her dreams, in dozens of different ways. When she finally had him on the floor, legs on either side of his hips, one hand on his long mane of hair, keeping him pliant and obedient beneath her she finally saw a flicker of hesitation in his golden eyes. His expression softened, becoming more open and a clawed hand came to rest on top of her left breast, where her heart beat furiously.

"It's forever, dearie."

There was an unspoken question in his voice. Belle was sure the kelpie himself didn't know what he was asking, whether he'd be able to let her go if she asked. Fortunately for both of them, she didn't want to. She pressed her moth against his softly, gently, marvelling at how it disarmed him completely. It was heady to have such power over a creature as powerful as the kelpie was, but Belle did not allow herself to explore that. Instead she sunk into the kelpie's member, digging her nails into his scalp as her body adjusted to the wonderful sensation of fullness that followed. The kelpie trembled, thrashing and whimpering when a tug on his mane made him still. She began to ride him then, slowly and sweetly at first and harder and faster as her belly tightened and her mind became fussier and fussier. Orgasming felt a bit like reaching the end of a long, hard run, muscles aching, heart racing and a feeling of elation overtaking her. The kelpie curled up around her tight as he came, breathless from the exertion, possessively wrapping his bony arms around her, dragging her down with him as he laid back against the moss, wiggling till he was comfortable. He made a sound of contentment when she dragged the tartan blanket on top of both of them, trapping whatever body heat was leftover. There was a voice nagging on the back of her mind, telling her to take a minute and think about what she was doing, what she ought to do next. But the kelpie was warm and comfy beneath her, and the fire kept the room pleasantly toasty. It was all too easy to push the voice aside and close her eyes, the distant sound of the running river lulling her into a dreamless sleep.

#rumbelle #rumbelle fic #thestraggletag fanfiction #rumbelle may day menagerie

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tinuviel-undomiel · 7 years

Text

The Sacrifice

This is my May Day Menagerie fic for @handwithquill. She wanted a water creature and chose a siren. I hope you like this, Quill, I sure enjoyed writing it. Sorry if it’s a little angsty.

Market day was always a cheerful occasion, at least for Bae. Rumplestiltskin enjoyed the atmosphere, but hated the people. He was the best spinner for miles, but few actually purchased his thread with much enthusiasm. Some even went to the second rate spinner rather than give their coin to the village coward. Still, it was the best time to actually turn a profit in his trade, and to let Bae have some fun.

Bae loved the market. Despite his father, no one begrudged the boy anything. He would toddle around the booths and smile, often getting a sweet or two from the baker’s wife. There was often a mummer’s play in the square that Bae enjoyed immensely. However, the boy’s favorite thing to do was sit beside his father and watch everyone go by, wondering where they came from, and talking aloud stories of their grand adventures.

Rumple had sold a spool of thread to the magister’s wife, when Bae leapt off his stool. “Belle!” his son cried in delight. Rumple looked past the frowning customer to see his son run past the tanner’s booth to wrap his arms around the legs of the prettiest woman he had ever seen.

Belle was a recent addition to the market. She and her father had moved to the village only last year. She came to market every month, often looking at each booth, and always with a book in her hands. She was the first new face in months, another displacement from the Ogres War, but not one of the usual refugees. Her skin was pale and smooth and her hands were softer than cashmere. She could also read, a rarity even among the men of his village. She had come from a town called Avonlea where her father had been a prosperous merchant. Now war had turned them into peasants just like them. However, she lacked the grand airs he had expected from one who had grown up with feather beds and silk clothes.

She lifted his six-year-old boy and kissed his cheek. “Hello, Bae,” she said, “How are you today?”

“Good,” Bae said.

“I have a present for you, can you get to my apron pocket?” Bae slipped one little hand into the pocket of her white apron and pulled two toys. One was a wooden knight, painted with grey armor and wielding a sword. The other was a green dragon with scales that shimmered slightly in the sun.

“Papa, look!” Bae shouted. He slipped out of Belle’s arms and ran back to the booth to show his father his toys.

“Those are beautiful,” he said. They were lovely things, but far to extravagant a gift. He looked up at Belle but she shook her head at him.

“They were mine when I was younger,” she said, “Please, they are of no use to me now.”

They looked too new for that to be true, but he couldn’t deny his boy this little piece of happiness. “Thank you, Belle,” he said.

“How have your sales been?”

“Good,” he said, like he did every time even if he hadn’t sold a thing. This time it was actually true, so there was no ache in his chest when she beamed at him. “How is your father?”

“Well enough,” Belle said, but her smile faltered a little, “He just need to get used to our life now.”

It had been nearly a year since they had come here, yet she still said that. He’d never heard her complain about any of her own personal hardships, but surely she had some. Instead, she always smiled and used any spare coin she had to give Bae a little present.

“I need some blue thread,” Belle said to Rumplestiltskin, “Do you have any?”

He nodded and pulled out two spools of thread. One was a very rich dark blue, the other was lighter, a bright sky blue that had reminded him of something. Now that she was there, he realized it was the exact color of her eyes.

“Oh this is amazing!” Belle gasped at the color, “It’s just what I wanted, thank you. How much?”

“Four coppers,” he said.

“Are you sure? I thought it would cost more.”

“No, just four coppers.” If she would have accepted it as a gift, he’d have let her take it, but he knew she would never allow that. Four coppers was enough.

Belle counted out the money and slid it across the counter to him, except it was six coppers, not four. “Use the other two to buy Bae a treat,” she insisted.

Rumplestiltskin swallowed the lump in his throat as she winked at him. “Thank you, Belle.”

“No, thank you, Rumple. Now I can finish the dress I’ve been working on.” Belle reached over to ruffle Bae’s hair. “Bye, Bae, I’ll see you both next market day.”

Rumplestiltskin watched her walk away, a happy little soul in this provincial village. He couldn’t wait to see her the next market day.

Little did he know, it would be years before he would see Belle again.

************************************

The soul of a siren. It was one of the hardest pieces of magic one could obtain. A siren has an external soul, one she guards zealously; something Rumplestiltskin understood all too well. If a siren’s soul was taken, she could be controlled. He could empathize in that respect, but that didn’t change the fact that now he needed a soul. It would give him a link into the other realm, a way to find his boy.

He’d heard there was siren at Lake Charite, close to his old village. Rumplestiltskin had no intention of returning to his old home, so he bypassed the old memories and magicked himself there. It was a charming little lake, with clear blue waters and willow trees lining all around it’s edge. There were no settlements around the lake, proof that there was a siren that guarded it.

He picked up a stick and stirred it through the waters, watching as the ripples spread across the surface. He knew the motion would call to the siren, coax her out of her hiding place so she could steal another hapless soul. He smiled as he saw the bubbles forming in the center of the lake. He relished the coming fight. The Dark One yearned for another life to claim, another meal for the curse to savor.

The creature that rose from the water was dressed all in white with a crystals headpiece in her rich, brown hair. She was a pretty thing. She floated on the surface towards him, each movement full of seductive grace. Every part of her was a trap, a way to lure a man into her cold embrace before she plunged him into the waters and pulled his soul free to enjoy for her own delights. Well she was in for a disappointment. The Dark One could not be fooled.

“That’s close enough for now, dearie,” he told her once she was a few feet away. Surprisingly, she stopped, tilting her head slightly at him.

“Do you wish for something?” she asked. Her voice tickled his mind, a beautiful accent that seemed to hang on the air. He had the mad notion of asking her to sing, but that would surely invite trouble. But there was something else. Her voice almost seemed familiar, whispering of a ghost of a memory, but he couldn’t quite place it.

“Oh, I certainly do,” he said, “though I’m not sure you’d want to give it me.”

“Don’t be so certain. I can give you many things. I can be anyone you want me to be.” She started towards him again. He could see her skin was pale and shining in the moonlight.

“Oh, dearie,” he said with a giggle, “I’m not here for that. I don’t think you’d want to tangle with the Dark One either.”

She stopped. “The Dark One? Truly?”

“In the flesh.” He gave her a mock bow.

“Are you truly as powerful as they say?”

“Oh much more, dearie.”

The siren swallowed, her feet gliding across the surface again. “I hear you take deals. Will you take one of mine?”

Oh how delicious. This was going to be all too easy now. “I might,” he said, careful not to sound too eager. “What do you want?”

“I want you to kill me.”

He couldn’t hide his surprise even if he’d tried. It was the first time someone had actually asked for death from him. He couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Well, what a coincidence, I’m in need of your soul. Just hand it over and then you’ll be able to die, dearie.”

The siren shook her head. “I can’t. I don’t have it.”

He frowned at her and stepped into the waters. The lake was cold, stinging at his skin, but he ignored it. “Where is it?”

“She has it,” the siren whispered.

“Who?”

“The witch.”

“You’ll have to narrow that down, dearie, I know many witches.”

“She calls herself Shauna,” the siren said, “That is all I know.”

Damn. He’d heard of this witch, but had never crossed paths with her yet. Other Dark Ones before him had. She was not one easily controlled. She’d even possessed the dagger for a period of time, before it had been stolen back by the Dark One call Karuf. Karuf even tried to kill her, but somehow he had failed.

“I know her,” he said.

“Then please, take my soul from her,” the siren begged, “Let this end. I can’t bear this any longer.”

Rumplestiltskin looked her over, searching her face. What sort of siren was this? “Is this some sort of trick?” he asked, “Because I’m warning you, dearie, you’ll waste your time trying to trap my soul. I’m the Dark One. You cannot take me.”

“I don’t want to,” she said, holding out her hands in surrender. “Please, when I heard who you are, I was relieved. I don’t want to kill anyone else. Please, take my soul and let me die.”

He looked for any sign of a lie on her face, but her only saw eyes that beseeched him for freedom. It was those eyes that captured him. They were a brilliant blue, as clear and bright as the morning sky. He had once made thread that matched those eyes, sold it for a third of what it was worth just to see those eyes light up with joy.

“What is your name?” he asked her. It couldn’t be her. It was impossible.

“Belle,” she said quietly, “My name is Belle,”

Rumplestiltskin snarled, reached out with his clawed hand and wrapping it around her slip throat. “Are you lying to me?” he hissed, “Don’t try to think you can fool me. She died many years ago.”

“You—know—me?” she choked out.

“No.” He shoved her away. The siren fell to her knees in the water. “Did you see her face in my mind? Is that what this is? You think you could trap me? I told you, dearie, my soul can’t be held, it’s already bound. It cannot belong to you.”

“Who are you?” she asked now, “Please, I don’t want your soul, but if I knew you before, then you must help me. I didn’t want to become this. She made me like this.”

“What?” he asked.

Belle nodded her head. “The witch, she did this to me. I was once a mortal girl, but she tricked me.”

“How?” The memory of Belle came to his mind, the last time he’d seen her at the market. He’d never know where she’d gone, but he’d pushed her from his thoughts after that. He had been so used to disappointment then that it had been easy to do, save for the occasional dream that plagued him.

“My father was miserable. He hated losing everything when the ogres came. I wanted to help him. I feared he would lose himself completely,” she said, tears rolling down her pale cheeks, “The witch promised to help him. She went to him and promised to give him everything he wanted: money, a son to be his heir, everything. She said he would lack for nothing, but only if I served her forever. I thought I was to be her maid, but she had something far more cruel in mind.”

“She made this?” he gestured to her.

Belle nodded. “She makes me lure people her and then I steal their souls. She takes the ones she wants. They keep her young and beautiful. It’s how she’s lived for so long.”

It was an ancient power, one he’d thought forgotten. Shauna must have discovered this dark magic long ago. The Dark One did not care about the trials of this poor siren; it only saw the way to finally get her soul. But Rumplestiltskin…he remembered the way Belle had smiled at him so long ago.

“I’ll get your soul,” Rumplestiltskin said, “I’ll give you peace.” He wouldn’t let Belle live like this anymore, not that sweet maiden he’d dreamed of during the worse times.

“Thank you,” she said, climbing back to her feet. She took one of his clawed hands into both of hers. Her fingers were wet and cold, but the set tingles through his arm. The Dark One didn’t like the sensation, warring at it in his mind. He quickly plucked his hand free.

“I’m just fulfilling a deal, dearie,” he said, “You can go back to your pond now.”

He turned away, ready to return to his castle to find out where this witch was. “Wait!” he heard Belle call out.

He turned to look at her. “You know who I am,” she said, “You knew me before, didn’t you?”

“I did,” he admitted.

“Who are you? Were we friends?”

“Yes, we were friends. That is all you need to know.” With that said, he forced himself away with his magic. He didn’t want her to know what her old spinner friend had become. Better for her to think Rumplestiltskin died a long time ago. She wouldn’t want to know just what that poor lame man became.

************************************

Rumplestiltskin remembered when Belle had disappeared. Bae had been eager to show her the cloth he had woven for her, with his father’s help. However, they had waited all day and she’d never come.

“Maybe she was sick,” he’d told his son. So they both had waited until the next market day. Once again, she never came. This time, Rumplestiltskin had left his booth for a time to seek her and her father out, but they were nowhere to be found. Be had asked where she was, and he’d had to say he didn’t know.

“Did she die like mama?” Bae had asked, tears filling his big brown eyes.

“No,” he’d said, but he wasn’t certain if that was true, “Perhaps she married a fine lord and is happy in a castle somewhere.”

It was a pretty story that had made his son smile, but Bae never looked forward to market day the same way again. Truth be told, Rumplestiltskin always scanned the crowds seeking those brilliant blue eyes every time, but to now avail. Eventually, he just gave up and accepted that another person had fled from his life.

Now he finally had an answer. Belle had been transformed into a siren, imprisoned under the whim of a cruel witch. The Dark One told him to forget about the past. He needed the soul and nothing more. But every time he closed his eyes, he remembered the way she’s taken his hands in hers the first time they’d met.

She’d stared at the grooves and ridges in his worn, rough hands. Belle had traced the calluses on his fingers with her fingertips. “You have such strong hands,” she said, “You are so skilled, Rumplestiltskin. You work harder than anyone I’ve ever known.”

He thought about his boy and how much he’d cared for Belle, sweet Belle who’d bought him candies and toys. He had to help her, even if freeing her meant killing her.

Rumplestiltskin searched for this Shauna. He used every magic he could find, every favor he could pay, but could turn up no trace of the witch. She had lived nearly as long as the Dark One. Her magic would be considerably great and far more difficult to trace. He knew he had to find out more about this elusive witch, and there was only one source he could think of.

Belle came out of her lake, still beautiful and pale, but a ghost of a smile crossed her face when she saw him. “Have you come to kill me?” she asked.

“Not just yet,” he said, “I haven’t found the witch.”

“She said she has ancient magic,” Belle told him.

“So do I, but mine is stronger.”

“I hope so.”

“When does she come?” Rumplestiltskin ask her, “She must come for the souls you take for her.”

Belle nodded, but the corners of her mouth drooped. “She comes every three months. If I don’t have any souls for her…” Her blue eyes turned wide and she swallowed thickly. “She has a lash. It’s made of gold, but it burns like fire. I cannot heal from the wounds until she returns, and only if I give her what she demands.”

Something twisted inside of him at her words. Not his Belle. She couldn’t have endured something so cruel. Rumplestiltskin gritted his teeth. “When does she return?”

“In another month,” Belle said. She reached for his hand and squeezed it in her cold, wet fingers. “Please, I don’t want to kill anyone else. I’m so tired of death.”

“I’ll kill her when she returns,” he promised, “You won’t have to kill anyone else.”

He didn’t know what possessed him, but he conjured up a book for her with his magic. Belle had never been without a book before. She’d even offered to teach Bae how to read. Now Belle looked at his gift with eyes full of wonder.

“For you,” he said, holding out the book.

Belle reached for the book like it would turn into dust at her touch. She gingerly opened it, thumbing through the pages with eagerness. “Oh thank you!” she cried, tears brimming her eyes.

He had no warning of her intentions. Suddenly she threw her arms around him, pulling him into her embrace. Her skin was cold and wet, but he could feel the rhythm of her heart pounding against his chest.

Something peculiar pooled in his belly, an odd fluttering feeling. He had never experienced a magic like this before. It must have come from Belle, another way for a siren to seduce her victim. Yes, that had to be it.

Rumplestiltskin pulled himself out of her embrace, carefully taking a step back. “Yes, well, I thought…just enjoy it.”

Belle traced the cover of the book with her finger. “You remembered that I love books,” she marveled. She looked up at him with a smile. “I wish you would tell me who you are.”

His name was on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed the word back down. “I doubt you would remember me,” he said with a sniff, “I was no one before.”

He turned to leave, ready to disappear into a puff of smoke, but then he felt her cool touch on his arm. “Please,” Belle asked, “Will you come back? It’s been so long since I’ve had a friend.”

A friend? The Dark One didn’t have friends. Oh he had congenial enemies, but never a friend. It was on the tip of his tongue to deliver some nasty retort, a reminder to her just who she was dealing with. But…this was Belle. Every time he looked at her, he was reminded of his son and how much Bae had adored her.

“Yes,” he said before he could talk himself out of it, “I’ll be back.”

************************************

He tried to stay away, or at least not return to her so soon, but he could only manage a week before the memories of those brighter days before beckoned for him to return. He brought back another book for Belle, one he was certain she would enjoy. When he arrived at the lake, he saw he was not alone.

Some foolish young man had wandered in, likely a shepherd. He must have prodded the waters either for a drink, or just to really see if there was a siren there. Belle had been lured to the surface and already had her arms wound around the man’s neck, ready to drag him down.

“Oh dear,” Rumplestiltskin said, “Oh dearie, dear, dear, I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

The young man snapped out of the siren spell. He stared at him, taking in the scaly skin and the monstrous red eyes. “You-you’re the Dark One.”

“Indeed,” he replied, “Would you like to be turned into a pig or a rat?”

The boy slipped in the mud in his quest to escape, covering his whole front in muck. Still he recovered quickly and soon had disappeared into the forest. Rumplestiltskin giggled at the sport. His laughter died when he felt two arms wrap around him from behind.

“Thank you,” Belle said, “I didn’t want to kill him, but I had no choice.”

Rumplestiltskin wondered over that for a moment. He remembered the early days of his curse, how his emotions ruled his magic so well to the point where he killed over minor things. Now, he had more control and preferred curses to death unless the person was particularly vile or irksome. However, he never felt like he was without a choice. He enjoyed the power he had in the beginning when it came to deciding life or death. Yet he had no master other than the chain that bound him to the dagger. Belle was without choice.

The Dark Ones before him who had been controlled by masters whispered about those terrible times where they were slaves. Zoso had tricked him into killing him in order to escape his enslavement. He may not have endured it himself, but he knew the pain Belle lived with.

“Yes, well,” he said unsure of what to say, “I doubt he would have been a palatable soul anyways.”

Belle wrinkled her nose at him. “I don’t consume the souls. I save them for Shauna.”

“Of course, I just…” he let out a sigh, amazed that despite living for three hundred years, he still couldn’t grasp how to talk to a woman, “Never mind, dearie. I brought you another book.”

Her blue eyes lit up like torches at twilight. She eagerly held out her hands so he could produce the promised book. “Oh this is one of my favorites!” she cried out in delight.

“I can find you another you haven’t read.”

“No!” Belle cried out, clutching the book her chest, “Please, I want to read it again. It’s been so long.”

“Then enjoy it,” he said, giving her a smile that for once held no mischief to it.

“I will,” she promised, but made no move to open the book or retreat back to her home. Instead, she sat down on a boulder on the edge of her lake. She continued to smile at him, her eyes brighter than they were the day he found her here. In that moment, he could glimpse the Belle he had once known.

“I’ll leave you to your reading,” he said simply because he didn’t know what else to say.

“Wait,” she called out, “Do you have to leave?”

“I…well…no.”

“Oh good, please stay. I rarely get to talk to anyone. I would enjoy some company.”

His company? No one had ever sought him out before or wanted him to stay and chat, not even when he was an ordinary man. No…that wasn’t true. Belle had.

“Alright,” he said, twisting his hands together.

“Can I ask your name?”

“No,” he said.

Belle blinked at him. “Why not? You know mine.”

“Names have power, dearie,” he said, “I never give out my name freely.”

“Very well, though I wish I could know who you are,” she said mournfully, “If not your name, may I ask what you like to do?”

“What?” he questioned.

“Do you have hobbies? You know I love reading. I’ve been wondering what you like to do.”

“Putting curses on fools,” he said with grin.

Belle glared at him and shook her head, but a smile curved her lips. “You’re teasing me.”

“Just a little.”

She swatted at him with her hand. “Seriously, what do you like to do?”

Rumplestiltskin thought about it, though he knew the answer immediately. Should he tell her? What harm would it be? Surely she wouldn’t remember him, not after so much time.

“I like to spin,” he said.

“Spin? With a spinning wheel?”

He nodded. “I spin straw into gold.”

Belle lifted her brows. “Now that is something I would like to see.”

“I’ll have to take you to my castle and show you.”

Belle’s blue eyes flickered down and her smile faded away. “I can’t. I’m bound to this lake.”

Damn, how could he have forgotten that? Unless her soul was returned to her, Belle would be bound to the body of water the witch cursed her to. He thought about sending his wheel here, but something told him that the moment was lost to them now. It would only serve to remind Belle of her imprisonment.

“Perhaps I can give you another gift,” he said. He picked some of the long strands of grass growing on the edge of her lake. He braided them together like he had in his youth. He closed the braided grass into his fist. When he opened his palm there was now braided rope of pure gold in it’s place.

Belle let out a gasp. “That’s amazing!”

He smiled and held out the rope for her. She accepted the sparkling treasure, admiring how it glinted in the sunlight for only a moment. Then she grabbed his hand, turning it over so its palm was facing up.

“What are you doing?” he asked curiously.

“Your hands,” Belle said, tracing the lines in his hands and rubbing over the calluses with her fingertips, “They…they feel familiar. They’re so strong…I know these hands.”

She lifted her head up with eyes full of tears. She couldn’t know; it was impossible. “Rumplestiltskin,” she whispered.

He ripped his hands out of hers and took two big steps backward. Belle reached out and took his arm before he could vanish. “It is you,” she said, “How? I thought…I can’t believe you’re here.”

Wait, was she…excited? There was a spark in her eyes now, her lips curling into a smile of joy she’d only ever given to the books he brought her. How did she even remember him? He had been a lowly spinner of no importance at all. After so long, he should have been forgotten.

He didn’t even have time to respond before she had wrapped her arms around him again. “I’ve missed you,” Belle whispered into his shirt. She lifted her head to meet his eyes now, blinking at him with those bottomless blue depths. “Why didn’t you tell me who you were before?”

“I…I…didn’t think you’d remember,” he said.

“Of course I do,” Belle said with a slight, wistful look in her eyes, “You were my friend. You and Bae.”

Her blue eyes widened now. “Bae!” she half shouted, stepping out from his embrace, “What happened to Bae? Is he alright?”

Rumplestiltskin wasn’t sure what to say to her. It was his greatest shame and yet…did he lie and say his boy was dead? Could he do that to her? The word ‘no’ screamed in his mind. His precious Belle had been through far too much as it was.

“It’s a long story,” he said instead.

“I’m a siren and you’re the Dark One,” Belle said, “We have plenty of time for stories.”

So he told her everything, how the ogres came and Bae was to be enlisted when he turned fourteen, how he stole the dagger and was tricked into killing the Dark One. He told her how he ended the Ogres War, how Bae wanted to save him and the Blue Fairy’s gift to him. His voice broke when he confessed how he let go of his son when he the chasm to the Land Without Magic threatened to take them both.

He found himself telling her even more. His quest to find a way to his son that led to a bean in the possession of pesky rodent of a man called Smee. How he found out his wife was still alive and living with pirates. How his fury at her in abandoning his son and her confession to having never loved him enraged him to the point of crushing her heart in his fist. He told her of all the lived he took, all in his need to find a way to get his boy back.

He told her how there was an ancient magic, one that required the soul of a siren to enter another world, which led him to her lonely lake and finding her now.

Tears fell from Belle’s eyes at the end of his tale. “Oh Rumple,” she said quietly. He thought she would turn away from him in disgust, but she took his hand and squeezed it. “I hate how you’ve suffered, and Bae, you have to find him.”

“I will,” he promised her.

Belle nodded. “Yes you will,” she said, “Because in three days Shauna will come. Take my soul from her, Rumple, and then use it to find Bae.”

Rumplestiltskin tensed at her words. “If I use your soul, Belle, you’ll die,” he reminded her.

“Yes,” she said calmly, “But you’ll have your son back. That’s what truly matters.”

She was right. He had vowed he would do anything to find his son, no matter the cost. She’d already agreed to die before in order to be set free from the burden of the deaths she’d already caused. Wouldn’t this be a kindness to her? Somehow, that thought did little to comfort him.

“Three days?” he asked her, “You’re certain?”

Belle nodded. “I received a message from her yesterday.”

Three days. He only had three days left with Belle before he killed her. Once again, he was left realizing just how cruel like could be.

************************************

Rumplestiltskin tried not to think about what was coming. The voices in his head were not helping him on that score. One previous Dark One had never settled a score with a siren so he was eager for the three days to end so he could watch Belle die. The others just welcomed the idea of taking another life. Normally Rumple wouldn’t be so bothered by this, but…it was Belle.

Nimoe reminded him, “She wants to die. She wants you to end her suffering and find your son.”

He knew all of that, but that part of him that was still the spinner with the hopeless infatuation for the beautiful maiden with impossibly blue eyes continued to remind him of those better days.

He did his best to shove it all out of his mind. Instead, he spun, and spun, and spun. He filled up three rooms with gold and forgot to eat his meals. It was easier to forget whenever he watched the wheel and the way the straw turned into a rope of pure gold. Unfortunately, he was reminded of how Belle wanted to see this little trick of his, and that soured the whole thing.

There was little he could go that wouldn’t remind him of his appointed task. He saw the staff he’d used back in the old days and remembered a time when Hordor had tripped him, taking away the staff. Belle had wrenched it from the cruel man’s grasp and handed it back to him, brave, wonderful Belle.

He went to the library and marveled over how much she would love to read these books. There were books he was certain she had never read before that he knew she would adore. Books that he wanted to tell her about, toe share with her all of their secrets.

He walked the gardens and thoughts about how she used to love flowers. Bae once grabbed a handful of weeds and wildflowers to give her, and Belle had acted like they were the most beautiful things in the world. She had even promised to bring them home to show her father.

Everything in his castle reminded him of Belle. He hadn’t thought of her in years, had tried to shove all of those days out of his mind, but now he saw her everywhere. He thought about going to see her again, but he knew that would only make things worse. What more could he say to her, Thank you for being willing to be martyred for the sake of my son? He could bring her another book, but the thought of bringing one that she would never finish somehow pained his heart more than anything else.

So he did the only thing he could do: he waited until the sun rose on the third day. He cursed each passing hour, but they continued to creepy by. Then the sun peeked out over the horizon. The time had come.

He blinked into the new day, took in a deep breath, and then willed himself to Belle’s lake. There was no sign of the witch, but Rumplestiltskin could feel Belle waiting beneath the waters. The air was thick with her fear. When he put his hand into the water, he could feel the pulse of her heart beating rapidly deep beneath the surface. He sent a slight charm into the water, something to soothe her rattled nerves and let her know he was there.

There was a rustle in the leaves, but Rumplestiltskin could feel no wind. He waited, tapping his foot for the show of it when the witch manifested out of the leaves. The brown and green foliage became her clothes. Her skin was a dusky brown, like black tea doused in milk, and her hair was a lustrous black with odd green streaks instead of the typical grey. Her eyes were a dark brown, but the only sign of age Rumplestiltskin could see were the lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth.

It was the vain ones that he hated the most. He had many ask for lust potions or wealth, but by far it was the ones seeking eternal youth or beauty that called his name the most. Looks had never been his strong suit, and once he became the Dark One, mattered even less. There were far more important things in the world. Beauty was so shallow, so fleeting. He could never understand its importance to people.

Shauna squinted at him like he was still the peasant he used to be, a look that set his teeth on edge. “The Dark One?” she questioned in a way that sounded amused, “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here for your siren,” he said calmly.

Now her dark eyes narrowed with pure venom. “She called you? That little worm!”

Shauna clutched at diamond that was set on her neck. Only then did Rumplestiltskin see that it didn’t shine in the sun, but glowed from within. Belle’s soul.

The waters in the lake bubbled. Belle lifted out of the froth looking even paler than he’d seen her before. Her blue eyes were wide and she chewed her lip as she dutifully made her way towards her mistress. “You called upon the Dark One to set you free, didn’t you?” Shauna spat at her, “Well it won’t do you any good. You are mine. You swore to serve me forever and so you shall!”

She gripped the trapped soul so hard her knuckles turned white. Belle let out a cry and fell to her knees in the water. It took everything Rumplestiltskin had to not throttle the witch with every ounce of magic he possessed.

“Please, dearie,” he said in as even a voice as possible, “As impressive your wrath is, your little siren didn’t call for me. I came on my own.”

Shauna peered at him, letting her fingers relax slightly on Belle’s soul. “What do you want?”

“I want your siren’s soul.”

The look of surprise on the witch’s face likely added a few more wrinkles. “What do you need her soul for?”

“That’s my business,” he said casually, “Now be a good witch and hand it over.”

Shauna laughed at him. “Oh I don’t think so. She’s been in my possession for over a century. Go find another siren.”

“Now why would I do that when there is one here?” Rumplestiltskin shook his head at her, “You don’t want to tangle with me, dearie.”

“No, it’s you who doesn’t want to tangle with me,” she spat out. She placed her hand on the ground, cracks spread through the earth from her fingers. There was a rumbling sound before the ground opened up and swallowed him down like he was soup.

“Rumple!” Belle screamed, but it was too late. Shauna smiled and let the ground seal him up. There was no more effective coffin than that.

Belle fell to her knees again, this time of her own accord. Tears ran down her face and sank into the lake. She would turn it into an ocean with her tears if she could. He was her friend, her last one in this world. And Bae, that poor boy. Now they would never find one another.

“Stop your weeping, little fool,” Shauna hissed at her. “Do you have any souls for me?”

Tears still wet her cheeks, but Belle didn’t care. She wrenched herself back to her feet. “No!” she cried, “I don’t have a soul for you and I’ll never take another for you ever again! You can kill me now for all I care! I won’t be your slave anymore!”

“Oh we’ll see about that,” Shauna declared. A whip appeared into her hand, it’s lash made of pure fire. Belle knew this tool very well, but she didn’t care if she had more scars. None of it mattered anymore.

Shauna raised the whip high, but Belle just stared at it blankly, ready for it to come. Suddenly, the witch let out a gasp. The whip fell from her hands and vanished when it hit the ground. Shauna turned around and only then did Belle gasp at what she saw.

Rumplestiltskin stood behind her clutching a beating heart, twisted and black. “Rumple!” Belle cried out, tears falling again but for a different reason.

“You forget, dearie,” he hissed at her, “I am the Dark One. I can only be killed by one way, and your little parlor tricks won’t work.”

“I can give you a soul,” Shauna pleaded, “There is another siren. I can help you get her soul.”

Rumplestiltskin sneered at her. “Really, dearie, you have nothing to negotiate with now.”

Belle watched as he squeezed her heart into it fist. Shauna let out bloodcurdling scream, clutching at her breast and sinking to the ground. She began to age before their eyes, transforming into a shriveled old woman. He kept squeezing onto the organ until it was nothing more than a handful of dust. Shauna withered away into the ground, her flesh and bones turning into the very dirt she lay on before the wind took her away forever.

Rumplestiltskin dropped the remains of the damned witch’s heart, dusting off his palms to be rid of her forever. A splash came from the lake, but before he could look to check on Belle, he found himself wrapped up in her arms again.

Belle squeezed him tight, pressing her face into his chest. “I thought you were dead,” she sobbed again, “I thought she killed you.”

Rumplestiltskin swallowed back the lump in his throat. The Dark One didn’t hug, but the Spinner couldn’t help but gently rub at her back, trying to soothe her. “It’s alright,” he said, “I can’t be killed so easily.”

He wasn’t used to having someone worry over him or he would have told her of his intentions. Now there was something else he wasn’t used to: guilt. He hadn’t meant to frighten Belle. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I should have told you.”

Belle pulled away from him, swiping at her cheeks with her hand. “It’s okay. I should have realized…” She stopped suddenly, looking down at the dirt where her captor had died.

There, winking in the sun was the diamond, the cage for Belle’s pure soul.

Rumplestiltskin picked it up from the dirt, brushing it off so it shined with it’s perfect light. Of course her soul was so bright, so vibrantly good. Belle was the kindest, gentlest person he’d ever known. No wonder Shauna had wanted to possess it so badly. She would be irresistible to any fool who wandered by, not because of her siren powers bestowed by her curse, but because she was Belle.

“You have it now,” Belle said quietly, “Will it work?”

Yes, it would work beautifully. It was so strong, so vibrant. It could easily open a door to any realm because of how magnificently pure it was. He couldn’t find the words to say all of that to her. Instead, he nodded briefly, but that was enough.

“Good,” she said, “Use it now.”

“What?” he gasped.

“Take it and use it to finish your spell and bring Bae home,” Belle said, “Just…promise me that you’ll never tell him what happened to me.”

Rumplestiltskin frowned at her. “Why would you want that?”

“I don’t want him to know about what I’ve done. I don’t want him to know that I killed people. I would rather him…and you, to remember me how I was,” she said. A single tear fell, gleaming in the sunlight.

Belle hastily wiped it away and shut her eyes. “I’m ready. Do it, Rumplestiltskin.”

Dozens of voices in his heads said the same words. Do it. Do it. Do it. Kill her. Do it. Save your son. Do it. Do it.

DO IT!

It would be so easy to take her soul and bind it to the spell, the key to open the door. This was the perfect soul. Even if he found another siren, he was certain their soul would be to rotten and black to be of any use. If he was to do it, he had to use this one.

But as he held that soul in his hand, his little’s son voice echoed in his mind. “Where did Belle go, Papa? What happened to her?”

What would he say to his boy if he asked him that? Could he lie again, now knowing the truth like he did? Could he ever look at his son again knowing that he had killed their beloved friend in order to bring him back?

It was more than that. Could he live with himself if he took her life?

Rumplestiltskin closed the diamond into his fist. There was a brief burst of magic that warmed his palm. When he opened his hand, the diamond was gone. “Belle,” he said her name gently.

She opened her eyes, blinking at him in confusion. Then her fingers reached up to her throat. Around her neck was a gold chain. The diamond that held her soul was ensnared there, set against her breast. She fingered it gently, feeling the warmth of his magic there. “I don’t…I don’t understand.”

“Your soul is yours,” he said, “You’re free, Belle. You can go where you like, do what you like.”

“But I’m still…I’m still a siren.”

He nodded. “The curse is in your soul. The only way to free you would be to kill you.”

“Then why don’t you do it? I want you to.”

“I can’t,” he said quietly, “I can’t do it.”

“But…I don’t want to be a killer anymore,” she begged of him.

“Oh, Belle,” he said and gently took her hand, “You never were. Your soul is too pure, so perfect, it would only be like that if you were innocent. Shauna may have turned you into her weapon, but you were never a murderer.”

Belle touched the pure white jewel, shaking her head. “I don’t…I’m not…”

“Belle, I can’t kill you,” he said again, “You were my friend. You even remembered me after all of these years. I may be as dark as they come, but I couldn’t destroy the one ray of light left for me in the world.”

He lifted her hand and pressed a gentle kiss to it. “Go and live a wonderful life,” he said.

He turned to leave again, prepared to whisk himself back to his castle. “Wait!” Belle cried out. He turned to look back at her again. “What about Bae?”

Rumplestiltskin shut his eyes at his son’s name. “I’ll find another way,” he said, “There is always another way.”

Belle crept towards him slowly and then took his hand again. “If you won’t use my soul…can I at least help you find this other way?”

He gaped at her, feeling his black heart hammering against his ribs. “You—you want to—come with me?”

She smiled a little. “I don’t know anyone else in this world. I’d rather explore it with a friend now that I’m free.”

A friend. Those were words he’d never thought would be associated with him. He shouldn’t let her come with him. She was a distraction, a bit of nostalgia from his past. More than that, every time she smiled at him he felt fire racing through his blood.

But he still saw the pain in her eyes, the fear and heartbreak that the years of enslavement had brought her. He could send her away, but what would happen to her? Would she ever understand that nothing she’d endured had been her fault?

Besides, there were no rules that said the Dark One couldn’t have friends.

Rumplestiltskin smiled back and gently squeezed her hand. “I do have a rather large castle. It might be nice to have someone to talk to. I also have a library that could use some dusting.”

The way her eyes sparkled at his words made him laugh. He snapped his fingers and they disappeared from her former prison in a cloud of purple smoke.

#may day menagerie #handwithquill #rumbelle #rumbelle fic

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gwenore · 7 years

Text

Revenge of the Werecat.

Hi, @little-inkstone finally it is the 1st of May. I have really loved talking and getting to know you over these weeks... even if tumblr has eaten quite the amount of messages... and it is still a miracle that I have not forgotten to put on the annon button... though I felt that I had several times...

I really hope you like this little fic. I also threw a werelizard in there, but... hopefully you do not mind.

Synopsis: Gold works for a institution which research the outbreak of a strange new illness which seem to turn people feral and become animalistic and is put in charge of a feline-like woman who was named Belle French before her infection.

Written for @maydaymenagerie exchange.

Mr. Gold was sitting at his desk in the observation room which had now been made into his makeshift office as he was ordered to keep a certain… creature under observation.

The Organization who had recruited… or forced him at gun point would be more accurate… to help with finding a cure for this new illness.

How it had started no one knew… most suspected a sort of genetic experiment gone wrong, though that description was a shot in the dark and too general to be of any use. Though all agreed it did not seem natural.

All they knew is that when the infection would enter the bloodstream of a victim, cell death would speed up at an insane rate with then new cells being created but these… were different. The cells were different… altered.

This caused a myriad of different mutations depending on the strain that the person was infected with.

One had commented it was as if the victims were turned into animals, as it would certainly seem that way from the symptoms. Rapports of people growing fur and scales… claws and fags, even hooves and tails…

To Gold it would have been hilarious had it not been actually happening.

These infected did also seem to get a more feral mindset seemingly loosing the ability to speak and act rationally. Most also became greatly aggressive, biting and clawing everyone not infected.

What was most terrifying about this new illness was how easy it was to contract it. While not airborne, any contact with infected blood in an open wound or any of the mucus membranes seemed to be enough to contract the disease. This with those infected more aggressive state made it spread extremely quickly.

Among the people these were known as were-creatures, or with the species that they had started to look like. Some did not think it was a disease at all, claiming it was magic.

Gold let out a scoff thinking of that. There was no such thing as magic.

Most of these infected were simply shot on sight, their bodies burned and disposed of. However if caught in the early stages of the process were brought to this facility to be studied. There were not many they took alive.

The one in the glass cage in his makeshift office was one of them.

Her name was… or had been… Belle French, a librarian if her file was correct.

She was now glaring at him with narrow pupils as her pointed furred ears laid back against her head. Having been stripped of her clothes she was holding the blanket around her body… a sign that she still had a sense of modesty, even as brown fur was now covering most of her body.

She had grown a tail seemingly just before she came to them, now curled around her, the claws on her feet and hands constantly barred, as was her sharpened teeth.

As far as Gold knew she had lost the ability to talk, though it was undeniable intelligence behind those blue cat-like eyes of hers.

Most in the facility that knew of her simply referred to her as the werecat… which… he could not deny there was certain reason for calling her that, even if he disliked it. It was as if it was robbing her of the little humanity she had left.

Talk also revolved around her beauty to which… well… he could also see that.

Even now, sipping from the whiskey that he had smuggled in for his over night shift he could not deny that she was indeed… beautiful. How tragic that something would have befallen someone like her. She was young… beautiful… with her whole life ahead of her…

And now she had been reduced to an animal in a cage. It would have been funny had it not been so tragic.

He sighed.

He did not know what would happen to her when they had gotten all the answers that they could get from her. It was not his place to care.

It was clear she hated him… he could not blame her.

“Another night just you and me huh dearie?” he asked her with a light chuckle in his voice as he lifted his glass towards her in a mock toast. The feline-like woman hissed towards him.

“I feel the same way, kitten,” he murmured at her as he picked up his book in order to read some, but quickly lost interest and tossed it on the table… or it was meaning to hit the table. What really happened was that he misjudged the throw and it slid off the table and towards the glass wall.

Mr. Gold shrugged. He was going to pick it up later.

Drinking down his glass he noticed some movement out of the corner of his eye. Glancing over he saw her move close to the glass wall, still covering her body from him, but her slit eyes were looking curiously at the book. He cocked his head.

“What… you want to read it?” he mused only met with another hiss. Swallowing down the remains of his drink he stood up, taking the cane for his bad leg he moved over, picking up the book and then pulled out her feeding tray.

Mistrust was glowing in her eyes as he pushed it through.

“Well… it is not like you have to read it,” he chuckled as he moved away, pretending to not care as he sat himself down again and poured himself another drink.

Glancing over his shoulder he then saw her slowly moving towards the push tray, picking up the book and gently caressing it in her clawed hands. Slowly drinking it down, he did not mind the burning in his throat… he was used to it by now.

With a loud sigh he stood up and moved towards the research desk, which forced him to put his back towards her. He never liked to do that, but he had to check on the blood samples… which was always nerve wrecking work.

Perhaps drinking was unwise, but… he found it helped him steady his hands… or… that was what he told himself.

After he had checked everything was alright with the blood samples, noting in the journal that nothing had really changed.

Slowly he turned towards her again, looking curiously as it seemed like the feline looking woman had started to read. This puzzled him… did she retain her ability to read? That was a surprise…

She had seemed rather… intelligent… he had to admit that. There was an intelligence within those blue eyes… or that was what he imagined…

He simply shrugged, rubbing the ridge of his nose groaning slightly. He hated being in this place… it could burn to the ground for all he cared. But with the not so unreal gun being put to his head… there was very little that he could do about the matter.

Mr. Gold was a man who had several regrets in his life… and this… getting himself into this mess… it did not even register…

At least the bottle of whiskey would take his mind of things until he could go home in the morning… only to be forced back a couple of hours later…

With these thoughts in mind he poured himself another glass, this one nearly to the brim.

“Cheers dearie,” he lifted his glass to his feline companion, though this time the expected hissing did not come, instead the creature hardly looked up from the book he had handed her.

“Fine… now I don’t have the pleasant distraction of our delightful conversations,” he chuckled slightly as he continued to swallow down his drink, not noting the scowl she gave him over the ridge of the book.

The night progressed as normal, Mr. Gold having to admit that he had been too much liberal with his smuggled in whiskey and was having to sit struggling to suppress his inebriation, continuing to rub the ridge of his nose.

The timer then went of to let him know that he was having to check on the samples again. He let out a loud groan, it was the last thing he wanted to do, but… he knew well enough that those who were found lacking in their work were… demoted…

To the state of experimental subjects.

It was a fate that he would rather avoid.

He was feeling strangely nervous his heart pounding within his chest. It was as if he had a foreboding feeling and that something was not quite… right…

As he was considering a vial… having to fight his inebriation to do his work. He hold it firmly, not daring to think much about what were going to happen if he were to drop it.

The sound of the alarm was seemingly shaking through the compound for a minute just before it was left in darkness one moment before the red warning lights were turned on.

The pain of class piercing the palm of his hand was pure agony and he would have let out an ear piercing scream had not the overwhelming fear which paralyzed his vocal cords left him unable to even let out even a whimper.

As the blaring of the siren died down he heard his office door locked shut while the door the infected woman’s cell opened and he was at her mercy.

Gold covered into the corner, staring with terror in his eyes as the so called werecat walked out of her cell. His blood was dripping onto the floor, the pain so great that he felt that his hand was shaking, but… he did not dare to look away.

Desperately and terrified a thought entered his mind.

This wasn’t an accident.

He was certain that this was not an accident.

Why would the cell door open if it was an true emergency?

Someone wanted him dead… or far worse than death. They wanted him alive, but wanted him to loose everything. His freedom, his family and even his mind which he had taken such pride in.

He closed his eyes then. He did not wish to see his end coming.

Feeling her close to him, he let out a slight nervous whimper, trying not to show how terrified that he really was.

To his surprise she did not dig into him with her sharp claws and teeth, instead she knelt down by his side and gently reached out and petted his hair comfortingly.

“We… we need to get out…” she whispered to him. He looked at her confused wondering just what she had said… had he… had he really heard her speak.

“What…?” his voice was shivering.

“We need to get out,” she repeated towards him. “They are going to do bad things to us.”

He could not believe what was happening.

“Wait… us?” he repeated. She glanced down at his hand, his eyes following and saw the glass poking out of his hand.

“We are the same now… you are infected,” he could hear that her speaking was strained, but it was at least understandable.

Still looking at his bleeding hand he knew that the content of the vial had mixed with his own. He tried to make an excuse… that he might have escaped contamination… but he could not believe himself to make him believe his own lie.

He whimpered, looking up at her, his eyes filled with tears and pleading.

“What is… what is going to happen to me?” he whimpered towards her. She blinked her eyes gently, a strange compassion in her animalistic eyes.

“You are going to change… after that… you know what is going to happen if they catch you,” she said. He knew well what was going to happen… he had seen it so many times. It was just a bit different when it was him on the line.

Slowly he got himself up to his feet, his hand shivering, trying to keep his mind collected. He tried to think about how to get out of this place… but… he was coming up with nothing. The walls were reinforced… the door was steel… no windows.

Call for help? Hah… that thought was laughable. His so called colleagues had trapped him in here and even if not all of them were in on it he would not know who he could trust.

Watching his blood and the shattered glass washing down into the sink he simply lowered ihis head.

“There is no way out…” he muttered.

“What…?” she asked shivering. “You must know a way out, you work here! I have seen you come and go several times!”

He simply chuckled at her insistence as he was shaking his head.

“No… I am actually just as trapped as you are kitten. You don’t think I want to be here do you? They threatened to take everything from me…” he let out another desperate chuckle, the amount of alcohol making him just find it funny. It might be just a fit of insanity… but if anything could excuse a man going mad… the night that Mr. Gold had been having would qualify.

“And now they have!” his low chuckle had now turned into a near desperate giggling.

He watched over at the feline woman as her pointed ears were laid back, that small blanket hardly covering her form as he bandaged his hand out of habit. Her cat-like eyes were welling up with tears.

“So… this is it then…” she murmured. He nodded.

“That would be my guess,” he shrugged, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“What are… what are we going to do?” she looked nervously over at him.

“Get drunk?” Mr. Gold shrugged his shoulders, earning him a glare of the feline woman, her tail flicking slightly. He simply cocked his head slightly.

“Don’t judge me, kitten, if we are going to be put down tomorrow… not to mention that until then… it is not going to be pleasant until then, and as I cannot remember what strain was in the vial, it is also going to be a surprise… so fun times,” his voice was filled with desperation though what could only be seen as insane chuckles.

“I guess… I guess that getting drunk is not going to do anything bad at this point,” she admitted. A silence fell between them as they sat themselves against the wall where they could watch the door. Gold grabbed around his whiskey and swallowed down, before grabbing it, handing it towards her, her taking it slowly, swallowing softly, before starting to cough, something that earned her a chuckle from the scientist.

She scowled at him ever so slightly before she handed it back for him to take him a drink. After he swallowed he put it down there was a silence falling between them.

“Is it going to hurt?”

He was not even aware that he had asked the question. Belle looked over at him and blinked her eyes softly, before giving him a soft nod.

“Yes… it is going to hurt a lot,” she then said. He blinked and nodded, thinking for a while.

“So… why did you not speak before now?” he asked with a wonder in her eyes. She shrugged her shoulders ever so slightly.

“I thought it wouldn’t be safe…” she then said. “It would be too dangerous… to let you know… I was not like… everyone else.”

“Wise choice,” Gold simply stated and with her sharp eyes she could see sweat start to appear on his forehead and his breathing was heavier.

Even his smell was different… muskier… more bestial.

It was exciting to her, making him unwittingly move closer to him.

“Do you… do you feel it?” Belle asked leaning over to him.

“I… I do…” he was panting softly as he looked down at his hand to see scales spreading across his hand.

“Scales…?” Belle pondered ever so slightly as she curiously stroked along them. The feeling of her fingers against the scales which was spreading rapidly… feeling like pins and needles across his skins… it was making him feel… warm.

He was unable to answer her, heavily breathing as his lips parted as she saw his teeth became sharp like that of a large predator. As he looked into her eyes, she saw his pupil narrow much like her own and the color turned from a warm brown into a golden yellow.

A slight fear went through her body as he reached out his own hand and touched her shoulder, leaning closer as long sharp claws burst out of his fingers. She knew well that most having turned would become feral and attack.

But his touch was not painful… it was gentle.

The look in his now reptilian eyes were that of fear and confusion. She was not certain that he was really knowing what he was doing, but there was no viciousness. Slowly she reached up her own clawed hand and touched his cheek.

“Just breathe,” she whispered to him, leaning closer and leaned her forehead against his own.

“You… you went through this…?” he gritted his teeth as he panted.

“Yes…” she buried her face in his neck, the blanket that she wore around herself were slipping off slightly. He was smelling so good and made her move closer to him, brushing her hand through his hair.

“Does… does it hurt?” she could not keep from letting out a low purr. His hand slowly slipped from her shoulder, down her side and hip, her being so warm, her moving her body against his hand.

“It feels as I am burning…” he groaned as he lifted his eyes, and she could see them glowing. “I am so cold… but I am burning…”

He let out a moan as he continued to gasp, his clawed hand grasping around her leg as her tail were bushy, flicking. Slowly her lifted his head and kissed his lips softly.

“What are you…?” he asked confused, as her hands continuing to caress his hair, as she got up on her knees, her blanket sliding of her body. A low rumble came from Gold’s throat as he let his reptilian eyes go over her body.

She was beautiful.

His claws were caressing over her body, as her own was unbuttoning his shirt, the fur down her back standing on end.

“Don’t know… just… you smell good,” she purred softly, her hands slipping inside his shirt and caressing his chest where scales were starting to form as well.

“So do you…” his voice was a low murmur, continuing to feel her nude form under his clawed hands. Sitting up she leaned over him, straddling him as she continued to rub against his hand, desiring his touch more.

“But… but should we…? Aren’t we just giving into these… beastly instincts?” even as he spoke his hands were continuing to caress her, down the small of her back, feeling her long slender furred tail.

The feline-like woman let out a soft moan as she grinded her hips, feeling his erection against her pussy, her claws continuing to run through his hair, pulling slightly as she forced him to look into her eyes.

“If we are to die tomorrow… why fight it? Just give in… please… I need you…” Belle whispered heatedly in his ears.

He gritted his teeth before he lifted his head and their lips met, his long tongue caressing against hers, his own tongue spitting and becoming forked as it moved against her rough one. She was correct… what use was it to worry if their life was to end?

Even as changes were wrecking through his body, he found himself growing warmer… more lustful. Pushing her down under him he stood over her, her letting out a low hiss in surprise, her hands moving down, ripping open his pants, pushing it down.

A loud gasp came from his lips as he felt her touch him, her soft fingers against his heated flesh.

“You are hard…” she murmured softly in his hair, kissing his lips. He did not respond simply scraping his long sharp claws into the floor. His eyes were wide… however, his panting rough and labored.

She understood, trying to ease him as she continued to place gentle kisses on his lips. She knew the pain and fear he was going through.

“Don’t fight it… it only hurts if you fight it…” she whispered to him. He lowered his head, taking in the smell of her neck as he lapped at her skin with his long forked tongue.

Belle closed her eyes, a purr coming from her lips as her claws ran down his back, feeling his scales through his shirt.

A gasp came from her lips as she felt something brush against her side, a long scaly tail which wrapped around her own in a gentle grip.

“I… I need…” she heard him pant in her ear.

“Yes… me too…” she moaned as she spread her legs, wrapping them around his hips, welcoming him in, still holding him close to her as he was kissing her neck.

Belle let out a loud gasp of pleasure, digging her feline claws into his scaly skin as she felt him thrust inside her. She had been dealing with this heat and restlessness in her body for so long. He hardly felt the sting of her claws, overtaken with instinctual pleasure.

In that moment none of them could speak.

There was no use for such things as useless as human words. After all… they hardly could be seen as human any more.

He could only think of the pleasure and the warmth as he was certain that the room chilled to a blazing cold around him. She was beautiful… and she was warm. Desire was too weak and dull of a word to describe what he felt for her.

He wanted her. It was primal and basic.

He wanted her, he wanted her to be his.

These were the only thoughts the once brilliant scientist was able to think in this moment. His imminent death… his fate…

Oh how far that was from his thoughts. Her was all that mattered.

He trusted his hips further, wanting to feel more of her… more of her warmth.

He was so cold. So… cold.

Belle felt as if she was on fire, feeling at how he teased her with that forked tongue, flicking ever so gently over her skin as he moved within her.

She had feared him… perhaps even hated him.

But… he had shown her kindness… there had been a compassion in those dark eyes of his… if also a resignation that he could not help her… not that she could blame him… she knew also what could happen.

She had observed him for a long while, how he seemed to loathe himself more than anyone else could ever hate him. It had always made her wonder why… he was not trapped… he could leave. But… she had been mistaken.

He may not have been put in a cage… but he was no more free than she was.

A sharp trust made it harder for her to think… finally… she was getting some sort of relief…

She moved her spine along with his movements, adoring the feel of his tail wrapped around hers. Pleasure were glowing in both their slit eyes as they met, panting loudly.

Belle lifted her head as her lips met his against running her claws though his hair.

“I am… I am going to…” he groaned softly.

She was not able to answer him, simply mewling softly as she continued to grind herself against him, feeling pleasure building up within her.

His desirous moan in her ear as he came within her, his sharp teeth tickling her sensitive sharp ear with his teeth and forked tongue, causing her to giggle even in her pleasure induced stupor.

“You are beautiful…” he murmured as he kept gazing at her with his reptilian eyes. “If only… if only we could have had more than this one moment…”

She simply hushed him, hugging him close.

“Please do not speak… just hold me… please do not let me go…” she whispered softly as she refused to let him go.

He then nodded his head, resting beside her on that cold laboratory floor, their tails twinning around each other.

“I promise… I promise,” he whispered softly to her as he brought her closer, hiding his tearful eyes in her soft hair as the clock was mercilessly ticking forward to morning.

Mr. Hopper… or Archie as most called him were running through the corridors.

Everything had gone wrong… he did not know what, but the whole place was destroyed, the creatures roaming the facility now.

“Mr. Gold!” he was pounding on the door to his laboratory, knowing that he had been locked in with one of those that were infected. “You in there?! Everything… Oh dear…”

“Mr. Hopper,” He heard the calm voice of Mr. Gold from the inside. “I am alright, but it seems the door has jammed. Can you open it?”

Archie had to admit he was astonished by how calm that Gold was able to keep in this situation, but he always had a cool head.

“Yes, yes! Just give me a moment,” he was quick to say as he pulled the override lever for the door. The moment the door opened he was pushed back towards the wall.

Pushing his glasses up on his nose he was lost of word as he looked at the fate of his colleague and the woman at his side.

“Thank you Archie… I knew I could count on you,” the reptilian creature grinned as he and the feline woman ran away in the midst of the chaos, far away from those that would wish to capture them.

#maydaymenagerie #may day menagerie #rumbelle fic #werecat #werelizard #gift fics

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