Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. This is a work of pure fiction. All characters and events depicted in this story are entirely fictitious. Any similarity to actual events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Tags: *Belle/Rumpelstiltskin, *Belle, *Rumpelstiltskin, *Regina, *Enchanted Forest AU, *Dark Castle, *Pre-Skin Deep, *Spying, *Spanking, *True Love, *Happy ending, *Rumbelle Secret Santa, *Prompt verse, *Spy falls for target (prompt from little-inkstone for RSS), *Fluff, *Angst, *Smut

Summary: Regina is intrigued with the Dark One's little maid, especially after witnessing his turmoil after she was taken from him. She devises a clever plan to use Belle to her advantage. Will Belle be able to break the queen's hold on her and prevent herself from being used as a spy, or will she inevitably break the Dark One's heart?

A/N: My RSS prompt was 'spy falls for target'. I will be honest and tell you when I got the prompt, I had a major meltdown bc this is so far out of my comfort zone it's not even funny. I was prepared to have major gruesome character death for EVERYone. Thankfully, my friend EtherealWishes, talked me down and helped me come up with a lovely plot :D I truly hope my wonderful giftee likes what I have created for her. Happy Christmas, darling! (This was the original a/n when I posted this the first time). Since then I have broken down a 24k o/s into 16 chapters. So, the chapters will be rather short.

Warning: This is a Mature/Explicit fic. If smut is not your thing, you really shouldn't give this a go. There's also a little spanking in this one, so again, here's your warning.

The Queen's Unwilling Spy

By:

CharlotteAshmore

I

Skulking in Shadows

Rumpelstiltskin clung to the shadows as his magic transported him swiftly and silently to the tower library where his maid seemed to spend most of her time these days. Belle's abduction by those three meddlesome harpies and their lust for power hadn't seemed to have traumatized her overmuch. She was a bit more jittery at times and had suffered a nightmare or two that he was aware of, but overall, she seemed to be doing fine. He watched for any tell-tale signs of discomfort in her from his hiding place, but could find none. It brought him a small measure of relief. He had already fortified his home with more magic, ensuring the wards wouldn't allow for more foolishness. No one would find their way through to take her from him again.

The mage sighed softly as he watched her eyes rove over the page of the book she held in one hand, the feather duster in the other taking an idle swipe here and there to make it appear as if she were working. He didn't care if she reclined on the settee all day reading and stuffing bon bons between her petal soft lips … as long as she was safe. The thought of her in the hands of those witches still had the ability to make his skin crawl. What might they have done to her if he hadn't hurried to her rescue?

He shifted uncomfortably, cursing the squeak of leather from his boots and hoping she hadn't heard. When had he become so enamored of his little maid? he wondered. She was simply a jewel in his collection of things … wasn't she? She was a toy, a pampered pet … someone for him to play with when he found himself bored. And he was deluding himself if he thought that. In the beginning, he'd thought it would be fun to have the little royal there to ease his loneliness, to have someone of her station to torment, to frighten, to ridicule. How - or rather when – had she become so important to him?

The sorcerer could still remember the feel of her soft curves pressed into him when the sea witch had shoved her forward into his arms, her softly spoken astonishment as she'd asked, "Why do you care about me?" Why did he care about her? It's not as if she would ever return his feelings … not for a vile monster such as himself. It was dangerous to entertain such thoughts … hopes. Hope was an emotion he couldn't allow himself to feel. Nor was love. They were a sickness. They would eat away at his soul until there was nothing left but raw, abiding pain.

Belle would never want him … not as he did her. The darkness within him growled lowly, never pleased when its host became melancholy in its desire for the little dearie. It couldn't allow the spinner to lose himself to dreams and desires which didn't fit in with its own nefarious wishes. The girl was a danger to all it represented, and it would not allow her goodness and light to corrupt its host.

A slow smile curled Belle's lips as she closed her book, taking the ribbon from her hair and laying it inside to mark her place. "Is it time for tea already, Rumpelstiltskin?" she asked, shooting a coy look over her shoulder in his direction.

"How'd you know I was here, dearie?" he murmured, stepping out of the shadows as his fingers rubbed nervously against his thumb. "Is there a streak of clairvoyance you possess which I'm not aware of perhaps?"

"No," she laughed, the musical tone causing his lips to twitch ever so slightly. "Of course not. There's just a small charge in the air whenever you're in the room. Your magic I presume."

He arched a sardonic brow. "Or maybe it's something telling you the monster has cornered its prey." One lone finger lifted to point at her. "You just don't have sense enough to fear me, dearie."

Belle cast him an indulgent smile. "That is because I see no monsters here, Rumpelstiltskin; only my master," she rejoined with an imperious sniff, playing his game. "And he has never given me cause to fear him."

His fingers curled back against his chest as he regarded her with narrowed eyes. "So sure, are you?"

Belle nodded. "Mmhm."

Rumpelstiltskin let out an exasperated huff. "Cheeky wench. Tea, little one … now if you please."

His maid set her book and feather duster on the table before dropping into a small curtsy and moving towards the stairs.

"And don't forget the tea cakes!"