Rumple had no idea what he had done wrong this time, but for some reason, Belle had been in a terrible mood for the past few days.
She hadn't yelled or screamed or snapped; no, he would have preferred that. Instead, she was quiet, only giving a weak attempt at things that would normally make her laugh. She did what he told her to and retired to her room quickly at the end of the night, making no comments about books she had read or things she had found in the castle.
And this simply would not do – not because he cared for her or anything like that, but because a maid who didn't put any extra effort in would just be dreadful. And it would ruin her efficiency, to be sure.
At the end of dinner one night, she stood up, mumbling a goodnight to him.
"I think you should stay here, dearie. For a little bit."
"Did I forget to do something?" She looked mildly annoyed. "I've done all you asked, there's no reason to be mad-"
He rolled his eyes. "Relax. I just want to talk to you. Unless you have something better to do?"
Belle shook her head, glancing at the floor before returning her gaze to him. "No. Of course not."
"Good." He leaned forward in his chair, clasping his hands together. "Now tell me, what's bothering you?"
"What?" She was taken by surprise at his question, unprepared with an answer. "N-Nothing."
"Oh, stop wasting my time. Who has bothered you, and how should I arrange their death?"
She gave a small laugh at this, looking back down and thinking for a moment. "It's stupid."
"Then there should be no problem telling me."
She sighed and looked up at him. "It's a holiday today. Back home."
"Oh?"
"It was always my favorite day of the year. There would be a huge ball held at the castle, and everyone would come, everyone." A small smile started forming on her lips as she remembered. "The music…oh, what I wouldn't give to hear the dance music again."
Rumple frowned as he watched the dreamy look on her face. He knew what she was talking about; he had been to one of Avonlea's balls a few years back.
He hesitated only for a moment before deciding that doing this wouldn't hurt. Suddenly, the music of the ball began to drift throughout the room, seeming to come from everywhere. As he watched Belle's face light up with her smile, he knew immediately that it was worth it.
"Rumple!" She exclaimed happily, looking at him with delight. "Thank you. Truly."
"Just a little music, dearie. Nothing to get excited about."
But of course, she ignored his advice completely. He watched as she closed her eyes, taking in the music as if it was some kind of blessing.
Suddenly she looked at him, her beautiful blue eyes lit up with a half smile on her face. "Rumple," she said, "Will you dance with me?"
He found himself at a loss for words, all of his snide remarks and little quips vanishing immediately. The thought that she would ever dance with him, the thought that such a beautiful woman would ever consider dancing with a monster like him, was unthinkable. "Me?" He asked incredulously. "Dance with you?"
"If you don't want to, it's fine," she said cheerfully. But he couldn't help but notice how her smile had faded ever so slightly, and how the excitement in her voice was now mixed with the smallest hint of dejection.
"What? No, I-I didn't mean, uh-" He was trying to protest, trying to gather the words in his head to form a sentence, but her smile had grown bigger again, and she had stepped forward, grabbing his hands and leading him towards the space by the door.
He followed numbly, too surprised to do anything but follow. He felt stiff, awkward – what did people normally do with their arms? – But she didn't seem to care.
It was just a dance. Just a dance, that's all he kept repeating. It didn't mean anything; it couldn't mean anything. He kept repeating that thought as she took his hands, kept reminding himself even as he placed his hands on her waist. He kept focusing on those three words, hoping that if he ignored how loudly his heart was beating in his chest then perhaps she wouldn't notice.
He tried to listen to the music, he really did – but instead of violins and pianos and flutes, the only thing he could notice was her smile, and the way she pulled him closer as they started to dance.
Mercifully, he realized she was much worse than he was. Every five minutes, she would giggle and apologize as she would step on one of his feet. And he would grin, sometimes pretending he hadn't noticed to save her dignity.
But she didn't seem to care about how many times one of them would mess up. And he found that he didn't, either. His only distraction was having to redo the spell, dragging the music on longer and longer to avoid ending the song.
But of course, it had to end. He let the music fade away to silence, until the only sound to be heard was their footsteps, slowing down as the music quieted. He glanced down at Belle reluctantly, half expecting her to jump away from him the moment she could no longer hear the music. But to his surprise, she simply sighed and rested her head against his chest.
And he had no choice but to hold her, wishing for some reason that the music had never ended.
"Thank you, Rumple," she whispered, and she slipped out of his arms, giving him a small, nervous smile before rushing back to her room.
He went to bed that night with his head spinning and his heart still pounding, just wondering what the next day would bring.