The call was all too familiar to Rumplestiltskin. Someone somewhere wanted to make a deal.
With ogres moving in on the Kingdom of Avonlea, he hardly needed to guess who was calling. In a puff of smoke, he appeared amongst some trees in a neglected forest. It wasn't uncommon for the Dark One to temporarily hide away from the caller. Observing his surroundings, he was ensuring there was not an alternate motive to the purpose of their call. When contempt with his own safety, he focused in on the person standing alone, awaiting his arrival.
To Rumplestiltskin's surprise, the caller was a woman. She was wearing a large cloak, in a failed attempt to hide herself. 'Two can play at that game, my dear ' he giddily thought to himself as a black cloak surrounded his figure, covering every inch of skin and engulfing his face in darkness.
The woman began pacing now, crunching the falling leaves as she walked back and forth.
"You'll wear yourself out, Dearie!" The high-pitch voice came from a branch above her head. She gasped and tossed her head backwards, her hood sliding off her head. Her wide eyes stared directly up at him, blue and deep and beautiful. Momentarily stunned by her beauty, his playful remarks died on his tongue.
The woman cleared her throat whilst taking a couple of uneasy steps back, attempting to recompose herself.
"I was afraid you wouldn't come." She was standing still now, waiting for his response.
"You should be afraid I did". His threatening words came from right behind her this time, as nothing but a sharp-toned whisper. Rumplestiltskin watched her body tense at their proximity, knowing she felt his breath on her skin.
"Can you stop appearing like that, please?" There was no trace of fear in her voice. 'Foolish girl.' She was even being polite. Rumplestiltskin couldn't remember the last time someone was genuinely polite towards him. Deciding to abide by her request, he stepped around her.
"What's your name, Dearie?" As he walked, he grew more grateful to be hidden under his cloak. Her beauty was so striking and he could still smell the lavender scent of her hair. She lifted her chin up proudly. "My name is Belle, Belle of Avonlea".
"Forgive me, I was unaware I was in the presence of Royalty!" He shrieked mockingly, taking an exaggerated bow. "And what does the Pwetty Wittle Pwincess want from me?"
"My Father is a good man." Rumplestiltskin snorted. Belle frowned, "But a proud man. He would sooner let our Kingdom fall than ask for help."
"You've come for my help then have you, dear?" Belle coulf hear the grin in his voice.
"I have. The ogres came. We- we're dying, can you save us?" Despite trying, she couldn't hide the desperation in her voice, "I can make a promise of gold-"
"Dull!" He was seemingly loosing his patience. "This is all so dull." He sighed, "I'll get back to you". And just like that he was gone.