Dreamcatcher
Camelot
"What is she doing?"
"I'm not quite sure. She keeps making those things. She makes them instead of sleeping."
David and Killian were watching Emma as she rapidly wove around the rings, adding in beads and feathers as she went. They were standing inside what was left of Granny's Diner watching the incipient Dark One Emma busy herself.
"They're dream catchers," Belle told them glancing between the two men. "She and Neal had one. He kept it when they got separated and she found it later in his apartment in New York. I know she took it back to Storybrooke with her."
"What are they?" Killian asked.
"It's an American Indian belief that one of these hung over your bed will stop you from having bad dreams. The good dreams will find their way through but the bad dreams get entangled," Belle explained briefly. She watched Emma a moment, "I suspect Emma has improved on the original model."
Afterwards – Back in Storybrooke - The Dark One's Abode
"There are hundreds, maybe thousands, of these things hanging up all over the place!" David exclaimed. "I had no idea." He walked through the darkened chamber observing all the different dreamcatchers, large and small, glittering and plain, rustic and sophisticated, all hanging down, none obviously attached to anything.
They were in the basement of the Dark One's house, there on an important mission.
"Rumple said to be careful of anything we found here. He thought that Emma would have likely laid some traps," Belle was picking her way through the hundreds of dreamcatchers, trying not to touch any of them, but struggling to dodge them all.
"What are we supposed to be getting?" David asked. He did respect Belle's intelligence and never for a moment underestimated Rumple's sheer wiliness, but he really didn't understand the purpose of their mission – and when he didn't understand something he was always a little on edge.
"It's one particular dreamcatcher," Belle told him. "You've seen it. It was the one that Emma brought back from New York, the one that Neal had with him. It was large, tightly woven with three strands hanging down from it. It had feathers and green and yellow beads."
"I sorta remember it, but how do we find it among all these others?" David asked. "I had no idea there were going to be so many."
"I didn't either. We just have to look," Belle told him. "It likely is special to Emma. Not only was it connected with Neal but she used it one of the first times she purposely used magic."
The two walked through the cavernous room, looking, thinking they had found the right item one moment only to realize that it wasn't quite the right one, then, finding another one, only to have this one rejected also.
"We don't have much time," Belle whispered. "Rumple figured he could only keep Emma's attention for fifteen minutes, twenty minutes at the most."
"Well, this is hopeless! There are just too many of them! We better give up for the time being and come back another time." David was frustrated by their lack of success. This should have been easy.
Belle hesitated. She had asked Rumple if there was any way she could be helpful and he'd given her this task. It was very important, a first step, in neutralizing Emma. They had to find it.
But if they were caught in the Dark One's inner sanctum . . . well Belle didn't think that Emma would hurt her dad but Belle wasn't sure what the Dark One might do to her, especially if Emma decided that keeping Belle prisoner would keep Rumple in line.
Rumple hadn't wanted to send her, but she'd insisted.
And now here they were. Out of time and their mission still uncompleted.
"Belle, we've got to go. Emma will be returning any moment," David insisted. "And I'd hate to have to go back to Rumple without you. He'd likely turn me into a toad or something unnatural."
"Oh he wouldn't do anything like that," Belle told him. At least she didn't think he would. He was much more mellow, less excitable, less vindictive now that the Dark Curse had been lifted from him, but he was still fiercely protective of his family and he certainly saw Belle as his family.
But she had to agree they were out of time and turned to go. It was then that the green and yellow beads caught her eye.
"David!" she hissed. "There it is. Up high. Can you get it?"
David now saw it. He reached but wasn't tall enough. "Here," he said and he lifted up the petite Mrs. Gold who was able to reach up and snag the dreamcatcher.
"Now let's go!" David urged her and pushed her along in front of him. On the way out, Belle grabbed a slew of the other dreamcatchers. David gave her a quizzical look.
"I just want to see what's in some of these things," Belle explained. David nodded and he grabbed a handful of the dreamcatchers to carry himself.
They made it out the basement window and scurried along the darkened side of the house, cutting through the Dark One's back yard and through the hedge out to the street where David's truck waited for them. Belle realized that wearing her new red high-heeled strappy sandals one of Rumple's favorites probably hadn't been the best idea when she was going to be involved with swift stealthy activity.
The Town's Square
Never let them see you sweat.
Rumple knew from Gold's memories that had been the tag line for a deodorant commercial from decades ago.
But it was so important when dealing with a Dark One. He had bantered and cajoled, teased and taunted, hell, he'd flirted with her and to the nth degree that he was comfortable, he'd walked around her, as if intent on seducing her, reminding her how much they had in common, how well he, and only he, could understand what she was going through. He spoke softly, not quite touching her with his hands. She was doing so well, his very clever Emma.
But there was still much for her to learn, he'd reminded her. Things he could teach her.
She reminded him then. Something he had forgotten.
She already had a teacher. The imp had appeared to her. It still did appear from time to time, reminding her of her power, showing her how to channel it, how to use it while passing the cost of the magic onto someone else.
He had forgotten that.
How could he have forgotten that?
Zosa had come to him early on and remained during those early days. Zosa stayed with him when he had destroyed the ogres, relishing all the death and destruction, feeding on it, even though these mindless, soulless creatures had been The Enemy – it was still death and destruction. Zosa had stood silently by while he led the children home. Zosa had then guided him back to the Duke of the Frontlands palace and had showed him how to destroy the man who had dared to subjugate the Dark One. Zosa had guided his hand in the slow, merciless process of killing the man, savoring each moment of the hapless potentate's death.
How had he forgotten that, indeed.
And now Emma was seeing him as he had appeared when he was the Dark One.
Interesting.
Emma became annoyed with him soon enough and he had to let her go. He didn't want her to suspect that he was only a decoy, that David and Belle were doing the hard job.
Why had he ever agreed to allow Belle to go on this dangerous mission?
Because he could refuse Belle nothing, he answered himself.
And he so needed this dreamcatcher. He needed the leverage, the power the dreamcatcher would provide.
Pissed at him but not enough to vaporize him, had finally Emma transported herself away. Rumple went back to his shop. He turned on the back light, a pre-arranged signal that Emma had gone and it was safe for Belle and David to come back into the shop.
He was prepared to wait but hoped it wouldn't be too long – that could mean that Belle and David were still in the Dark One's house. Fortunately it was only a moment when they came in through the back door, having kept to the shadows all the way back to the shop and then standing in the darkness waiting for Rumple's signal. They were breathless and tense when they walked in.
"We got it," David told him, triumphantly holding up the prize.
"Thanks," Rumple replied taking it from David. "This will help."
"You think you can . . ." David started then stopped. "This will help turn her back?" he asked.
"I hope so. I need something that has part of her magic in it," he explained. "And this," he held it up to the light, "this has a lot of her magic, innocent, pure, sweet magic."
David nodded and left out the back door the way he had come in.
They stood together in the back of Rumple's shop, Belle waiting for him to begin. Rumple was, as he often was, momentarily distracted by Belle's legs – the red sandals and the short skirt set them off perfectly. Part of him enjoyed the view; another part of him wanted to completely cover her up so that he would be the only man who would see her. He pulled himself back into the present. "What are these?" Rumple asked Belle of the other dreamcatchers she held in her hands.
"I was curious what she was doing with all of these."
"It's just a hobby. If you're going to live forever you have to develop some outside interests. Mine was spinning. I might have encouraged Emma to learn to knit," he replied, but he picked up a little one.
He passed his hand over the webbing and a picture of David and Arthur retrieving a large red and white mushroom came through.
"That's the one that was supposed to allow us to talk with Merlin, but then Arthur destroyed it. This shows David and Arthur tracking it down!" she told Rumple. "None of us remembered how they got it but it's all here."
"The Crimson Crown," Rumple said to himself. "What's this one?" he asked picking up another dream catcher.
Belle looked over his shoulder as he activated it. "This looks like Henry meeting up with Violet in a stable. But Henry didn't know Violet when they came here."
"So, all of the memories of Camelot are in these dreamcatchers," Rumple quickly surmised.
"If we could get more of them, we might be able to piece together what happened!" Belle realized.
"But Emma would stop you before you got enough of them," Rumple gently reminded her.
"What is this one?" Belle asked holding up another of the dreamcatchers.
Rumple waved his hand over the object and . . .
Memories
They were plunged into darkness, falling down, deep into an abyss.
"Take her, take her, take her! She's yours. Yours by agreement, by willing agreement!"
"I didn't bring her here for that."
"Why not?" the voice was whining. "It's what they're all expecting you'll do to her. It's what she thinks is going to happen. You're a beast, a monster. Take her! Fuck her!"
"No," he managed to answer.
"Coward! You're afraid she'll reject you? Say no to you? What does it matter?" Now the voice was cajoling, "There's virgin blood there, royal virgin blood. Do you know how valuable that is? Take her!"
"No, I don't need to do that to her."
"Well, you don't really need to eat or drink, but you sometimes do. Why not do this? It affords only pleasure. Imagine her beneath you, all that beautiful white flesh yielding to you. Just look at those jiggly little tits. Don't you want to suck on them, bite them?" The voice softened, "I know she'll respond to you, she's ripe, she's ready. You can take your time with her. Seduce her slowly if you like. She'll be begging you for it."
"No, I don't want to hurt the woman."
"Ah, perhaps you don't want to be bothered with her fighting you. There are plenty of potions you can give her. I prefer one that immobilizes the girl, so she knows everything that is going on, she can feel everything that is happening to her but she can't move. It's delicious."
"I don't find pleasure in forcing a young woman to my will!"
"Well, however else are you going to get a woman into your bed? Do you think a gem like Cora comes along very often?"
"Cora didn't love me. She only wanted my power."
"So what? That's the basis for many a happy relationship, one where there are things that each partner wants from the other. TAKE HER! FUUUUCK HER!"
"No."
.
.
.
The room brightened again. Rumple looked embarrassed and looked away from Belle.
"What was that?" she asked him, stunned.
He stepped away from her and spoke in a low tone. "A conversation I had with the Dark One right after you came to my castle," he confessed. "I hadn't thought of it in a long time."
Belle considered a moment. "It wanted you to . . . to . . ."
"Yes," he confessed.
"But you didn't. You shut me in a dungeon and terrified me, but you never laid a hand on me."
"I didn't," but he was still so embarrassed that those memories were part of him. Belle smiled at him, touched him on the arm and then moved in to hug him. They stood quietly together for a long moment. When they separated, Rumple managed a slight smile.
"Thank you," he told Belle in a whisper.
Belle idly picked up one of the other dream catchers. "That memory wasn't taken from Camelot. That one was taken from you."
"Yes. When I was lying in a coma, that was one of the dreams I remember. It's a real memory . . . one I had forgotten."
"So there could be some other . . . personal dreams . . . and memories . . . in these dream catchers?" she asked him slowly.
He nodded.
"Do we dare to risk another one?" she asked him.
He looked over the little stack. "Each of these have different color beads on them. This one," he held up the dream catcher that had held his own memory, "has beads that are blue and black." He looked through the others. "Like this one," he held up a different dream catcher. "Do you think we should see what's in here?" By now he wasn't so sure.
"Let's look together," she told him and reached out to hold onto his hand.
.
.
.
Again they fell into an abyss, but now they fell into a plush, darkened bedroom.
Belle looked around and realized it was one of the tower rooms from the Dark Castle. Not the tower where he did all of his magic, but his sleeping chamber, one that she had been charged with cleaning. She remembered he'd never actually used his bed except as a repository for discarded clothes and occasionally for pouting. At the moment, she was lying on her back in his bed, on silken sheets surrounded by soft pillows and walled-in by heavy damask curtains hanging down from the canopy.
This had never happened?!
Rumple, the imp, was slowly caressing her. He was kneeling between her legs allowing one of his hands to drift up her leg and then back down. He raised the leg to kiss the inside of her ankle. She moaned.
"Pretty girl, if I had known you'd been wanting in my bed, I would obliged you much sooner," he purred to her, kissing her along her leg up to her knee.
"This isn't right," she murmured, dizzy and confused. She was Belle, not Belle, at the moment, both Belle from the past and Belle from the now.
How had she gotten here? She was vaguely away that her clothing was gone, everything from her shoes and stockings, her dress, her undergarments, even those that were closest to her body, those that protected her modesty, her virtue, all gone. And yet, as scandalized as she was, she felt warm and excited. She was enjoying the illicit attentions of her imp.
"This is exactly right, my darling. Give yourself over to me. I'm make it good for you," he promised her.
"But . . ." she knew she should protest. This wasn't right.
"I won't hurt you, dearest. Feel, my sweet girl, just feel." And she could feel his hand track up the inside of her trembling thigh. She could feel his claws, not scratching, but scraping, heightening the sensations. His touch was warm.
It did feel good. He was being so gentle with her. She wanted this, she told herself. Belle felt herself thrashing but she was unable to escape she didn't want to escape. The imp was touching her, kissing her in a slow, wet manner, she could feel his lips and tongue, his oh so talented tongue, on her skin. She felt an unaccustomed warmth gathering, pooling deep inside her core.
"You are so beautiful. How can I not want you in my bed?" he asked her between kisses.
He was close now, one hand was now on her stomach, stroking her, soothing her. He brought it down and brushed against the curls between her legs. She was damp, glistening.
His hands, clawed and scaly as they were, continued to manage to be gentle. He knew she was beginning to respond to his touch and he continued to touch her, rubbing, caressing, stimulating. He relished her moaning, how welcoming she was to his attentions. He judged her ready enough and slipped a finger into her tight channel while he used his thumb to apply more direct pressure to her little feminine bud which was now peeking out, swollen and sensitive.
It was enough to send her over.
She cried out, her body clenching around his finger, her eyes widened, her hands clasping and tearing at his smooth cool sheets.
"What . . . what was that? What happened? What did you do to me?"
Oh innocent little virgins. They had no idea what pleasures lay in waiting for them.
"I gave you pleasure, my sweet girl," he told her, feeling proud and smug.
"Oh, oh," she was confused and bewildered. He was still caressing her, his fingers still teasing, still exploring her most secret places. "Oh," she tried to pull back from him but he stayed with her, not allowing her to escape his attentions.
"There's more," he told her, promising her, enticing her. He leaned forward and began to kiss her, first on her cheek, then along her chin and finally her mouth, his lips capturing hers, encouraging her to open her mouth to him, then gently slipping his tongue along the edge of her lips. She was clinging to him quickly, tentatively, hesitantly kissing him back, her hands on his shoulders, holding him, holding on to him.
His hand slipped from between her legs and soon enough he was on top of her, lying between her legs, lying on top of her, supporting his weight on his elbows and all the time, all the time he was kissing her and whispering how beautiful she was between the kisses.
"Do you want more?" he asked her, pulling back so that he could look down at her with his odd eyes, the pupils not their usual reptilian slits but fully dilated, filling the amber irises. "More from me?" he asked.
She nodded and he was kissing her again. If Belle was startled when his clothes disappeared she did not indicate it, seeming to welcome the heat that his body, scale to skin, was generating with hers. He pulled back a little so that he was partially on his knees, raised above her body. His hand dropped to between her legs. She was very wet and still relaxed from her earlier release. He took himself in hand and positioned himself at her entrance.
"Sweet girl, look at me," he ordered. Her eyes met his and he watched as her pupils contracted when he pushed into her. There was a cry of pain and he stopped, allowing her to adjust, to accommodate him. He began kissing her again, praising her bravery now along with her beauty.
"Is this over?" she managed to ask him.
"No my sweet, but it will get better," he promised, kissing away the sweat that was now on her forehead.
"Promise?" she asked him.
He smiled, "I promise." And he began again, thrusting, pistoning himself in and out as Belle fell apart, falling into a maelstrom of desire and heat.
.
.
.
There was a rush and both Rumple and Belle were back in his shop. They stared at each other, their mouths opened, and then both dropped their eyes.
"That was a fantasy of mine," they both said at the same time.
"What?" they both said.
Rumple stepped back, "Belle?"
She was fiercely blushing and could not meet his eyes. "There were times at the Dark Castle that I wondered what it would be like if you kissed me, if you touched me. I wondered what it would be like to lie in your bed and have you take advantage of me." She glanced up at him. "You must think me depraved," she said looking away.
"Never," he assured her. "You were an innocent girl on the threshold of maturity that I took away from her family. You were put in my absolute power and if you wanted to survive it was natural for you to have begun thinking of different ways you might please me. I knew this, as the Dark One I knew this." He closed his eyes for a moment before speaking again. "Belle, I often," he began. "I often had thoughts of having you in my bed and having my way with you. And," he added truthfully, the confession costing him, "not all these thoughts were coming from the Dark One. Apparently, we both had the same dark fantasy about each other."
"Apparently," Belle agreed. "This is rather embarrassing," she told him.
"And a bit arousing," he told her, a slight smirk gracing his face.
She blushed again, "Yes," she agreed, "a lot arousing, actually. I wonder how many of these other dreamcatchers hold similar thoughts, dreams and fantasies about other people. I wouldn't want anyone else to see anything like this one about us and . . .
"I really don't care to have access to anyone elses fantasies or fetishes," he completed her thought.
"No, that could be distasteful," Belle agreed. "I would guess the beads may give us a clue about who the dreamcatcher is about. I'm guessing I'm the bright blue bead and you're the black one. Emma is a bright green and Bae is a creamy yellow."
Rumple nodded as he began sorting through the dreamcatchers. "So likely Snow is the white bead, Charming is the pale blue and Regina . . ."
"I bet that she's the purple bead," supplied Belle picking up one of the dreamcatchers with a bright purple bead and a dark green bead. "So, maybe we should return these others to the ones they belong to."
"Yes, I think so. I certainly don't want to accidentally stumble on anything featuring Regina or Killian, together . . . or separately," he agreed acerbically.
Belle picked up a dreamcatcher with a black bead and a pale green-blue bead. She put that aside suspecting it might be one of Zelena's. She also found some dreamcatchers with bright green beads and deep navy blue beads Emma and Killian? These too, she put aside. There were a few others with black and blue beads, Rumple's and hers. She put them aside. Perhaps they could view the images at another time . . . or not. She wasn't sure how he might feel about looking at these memories - one, at least, had been painful for him.
"You're picking out the ones with our beads in them?" he asked.
"Yes, well, I am wondering what other pornographic thoughts we've had about each other. I'm not sure if we should look at these or not. Do you think our wedding night might be in one of these?" she asked him.
He smiled. "I doubt it, unless it was taken from your mind. I have perfect recall of that night."
She flushed. "You know looking at these could be embarrassing. What if I find out that you have some secret sexual fantasy about me?"
He picked up the pile of dreamcatchers that included 'their' beads and very nearly grinned, "Actually I'm hoping I do find something like that out about you. If there's anything else I should be doing for you, I'd certainly like to know about it."
"But what if it's something very, very naughty?" she asked in a small voice and bit her lower lip.
He looked at her for a long moment, then scooped up all the dreamcatchers with black and blue beads and took her arm.
"We're going home right now. To the bedroom and we're looking into all of these. All of them," he told her. He glanced down at her red open-toed, high-heeled strappy sandals. "And you're keeping those shoes on."
A.N. There was a prompt related to 'granny porn' (their choice of words, not mine) with Jones and others watching a sex tape of Gold and Belle and feeling . . . inadequate. The dreamcatchers David took could easily have such a memory that Jones could access. Let me know if there's any interest in a chapter two along these lines. - twyla