A/N Hullo all. This is a rewrite of something I wrote a while back that I never actually edited before posting on the site. It was one of the first things I ever wrote, and now, after some practice, I wanted to give it another go. Enjoy.
Snow graced the mountainside late into the year. A cold chill permeated the castle, and left Belle shivering, huddled close to the fire whenever Rumpelstiltskin was not looking.
The cold did not do much to dampen her spirits, however. From the fireplace she would gaze out the windows into the wilds, longing to run through the snow and play, just as she had when she was a child.
The day came, then, when she decided to try and dare.
She began pursuing the castle carefully enough. Specific chores took her from one room to the other, and she kept her eyes peeled, searching for something, anything, that would serve her purposes. Somewhere, her supposed 'master' had to have something for her to use.
The hours went on, and still, she found nothing.
After spending far too much time combing through Rumpelstiltskin's store rooms, Belle threw her hands up in despair, cheeks flushed with frustration.
This man had traveled across every kingdom, made every kind of deal with every kind of noble, peasant, and citizen. This man was the master of the deepest and most powerful magic, the absolute. There was nothing that seemed to exist outside of his power.
Despite all of this, he lacked anything that would even begin to resemble a sled.
Belle picked her way back through the rubbish that was scattered across the floor, leaving the room in a state of casual disarray. Quick steps brought her back to the kitchen, where the nearest chair enveloped her weight.
She ran her fingers through her hair, exasperation building into a full force headache. This was ridiculous, on her part and his. She shouldn't have expected such an important man to have any concept of 'fun'. He was far too busy for such foolishness as that.
There were more chores to do, of course, but she felt herself deserving of a rest. Despite the stiffness of the chair that supported her, she made an attempt to cuddle deeper into it, hiding herself from the disappointment filling the room. She had hoped so much to have just a touch of fun today, outside of exploring the library and her usual activities.
From the corner of her eye, she spotted a chipped cup, still sitting in the same spot that Rumpelstiltskin had been in earlier that day. It was her duty, of course, to come and make him breakfast every day. Oh, how her mother would have laughed, had the situation not been so dire. Belle had arrived in the Dark Castle unable to cook anything besides the basic egg. It took a mere three days of repeated breakfasts before Rumpelstiltskin decided to provide her with a cook book.
Her eyes lingered over the poor cup's fracture, and she took it in her hands, holding it carefully. The crack had increased in size since she originally dropped it. She could just imagine him holding it too tightly on the days when business went sour, unable to control his temper as well as he would have liked to.
He had looked a sight coming down to breakfast that morning. His shoulders had been tense with stress, his eyes lacking the usual glimmer of mischievous. They had eaten in silence.
Rumpelstiltskin had practically inhaled the quiche Belle had just learned to perfect before she had reached the table. He had sat, brooding, at the end of the table as she ate, nails clinking against the porcelain skin of the injured cup.
It seemed as though it was destined to be a poor day for the both of them.
Belle grumbled and cuddled the cup close to her chest, closing her eyes for a moment to enjoy the silence. Dinner needed to be prepared soon, and she dreaded another tedious meal alone with Rumpelstiltskin and his temper.
She stood and stretched before moving to carrying the cup to the water basin. In her spare moments, she debated which fate was crueler: living in a castle knowing she could never escape, or cooking in a castle she could never escape from.
Cooking. It had to be the cooking. Belle managed a chuckle as she lifted the oversized tea kettle from the cupboard, setting it down with a huff.
She paused, and let her eyes travel back to the cupboard.
Where the kettle had been sitting, and underneath an assorted set of china, was the single largest serving tray she had ever seen. How she hadn't noticed it before, she wasn't sure, but now it had her full attention.
Blue eyes glimmered with delight as she removed the various cups and dishes from the tray, examining it with care. Its size was perfect, and it was simple enough to use...the expensive trim wouldn't interfere with her activities at all.
It wasn't the perfect sled, but it would serve its purpose.
Her steps echoed loudly through the castle as she ran to the door, bursting out into the frozen winter air with a shout of delight.
XXX
It wasn't long before Rumpelstiltskin made his way down from his self-imposed prison, fully expecting to see his quaint little caretaker keeping herself busy in the kitchen. Cups were scattered all over the large table in the center of the kitchen, however, and while the tea was bubbling over the fire, the girl was nowhere to be seen.
He shivered to himself, then turned, and felt his shoulders tense. Panic filled his chest as he sprinted towards the foyer. The front door was still hanging open, and he could hear shrill shouting coming from the mountainside.
Disregarding even a cloak, he flew out of the castle, panic mixing in an unpleasant manner in his stomach. Wide, reptilian eyes searched the mountainside frantically, looking for anything that would lead him to his run-away housekeeper.
The next thing he saw was Belle, speed down the mountainside on his best serving tray.
Rumpelstiltskin stood, knee deep in the snow, with his mouth hanging open at the sight.
The girl was screaming with delight as snow flew in every direction around her. She sped past him, smile gleaming in the late day sunlight. The tray flipped as she flew down the mountainside, and she landed hard in the snow, laughing all the same.
Belle lay curled up on the ground, clutching her stomach and doubled over with laughter. Snow soaked into her dress and white flakes settled into her hair, and her cheeks were flushed bright red from the cold.
Rumpelstiltskin sank back on his heels, working to shut his mouth before he made a fool of himself.
"Dearie?" he called, watching as the girl righted herself, shaking the snow out of her hair. She glanced over and saw her observer, and burst into laughter again.
"I'm afraid I dented your tray." She giggled, lifting it up to show him. It was relatively unscathed, but it did not concern him in the least. A slow bubble of laughter threatened to bubble onto his lips, but he repressed it, trying for all the world to look stern.
"That's not the best way to go about killing yourself, dearie." He said flatly. "You could have come to me for something like that."
Belle snorted at his comment, still buried in the snow. "It's less about dying and more about trying to fly." She said sarcastically, her blue eyes sparkling with joy.
"I think I have a potion for that." Rumpelstiltskin mused. "But really, dearie. You might consider telling me before you go running off, yes?"
The sparkle died slightly, but Belle still managed to smile at the man. "Did I worry you?" she asked coyly, moving to stand up. She placed a hand on his arm, and watched, amused, as he started to squirm.
"I made you a promise, Rumpelstiltskin." She said, kindly. "It's not one I intend to break."
"I will, however, make an effort to have some fun every now and then." She said determinedly, picking the serving tray up and wiping it free of snow. With a gleam in her eye, she held her hand out to him. "Would you like to join me?"
Rumpelstiltskin eyed the serving tray cautiously, hand twitching carefully above the silly girl's before landing in hers. "I can't be blamed if you suffer a head injury, dearie." He said. "That will be completely your own fault."
"I am willing to risk that." Belle laughed lightly, beginning to trot up the hill once again.
XXX
It wasn't until later in the day, after the serving tray had been put away and dinner had been served, that Rumpelstiltskin sought out his caretaker again. She was curled beside the fireplace in the library, fast asleep.
It wasn't until she arrived that he realized that he had so many fireplaces. It was truly ridiculous.
A book lay across her lap, spine bending and cracked. With care, he lifted it from her lap and marked her page, setting it not far from where he found her.
With an 'umph' of effort, he lifted the sleeping girl in his arms, shuffling slightly to amend for her weight. He could have sent her to her room magically, of course, but magic tended to go awry, and he didn't want to risk it sending her somewhere she didn't need to be.
The last time he had tried that, he had found her in his bed, asleep and drooling on his underused pillows.
That had been a petrifying experience.
He grunted softly as he turned, using his back to open the door to her room. As carefully as he could manage, he set her on her bed, and watched as she curled deep into the sheets, still unconscious and dreaming.
Despite himself, he smiled down at her, careful to memorize the soft nuances of her face, calm in sleep.
He left as silently as he came, unable to see the smile that slowly developed over the young woman's face.
