"Reul Ghorm?" Baelfire called into the darkness. "Are you there? If you can help me, please make yourself known to me."
Bae closed his eyes and wished as hard as he could. This was his last hope to save his papa from the curse that afflicted him, it just had to work. Soon, he felt the strange shimmery feeling that he'd learned meant magic and when he opened his eyes he saw a tiny woman with wings surrounded by a blue light. He could feel the power radiating off of her, and he felt strangely calm.
"Can you help me?" he asked her timidly.
"I can help," she replied kindly, hovering in front of him.
"How do I know I can trust you?" he asked.
"Because there's good magic and dark magic," she replied. "And I'm on the right side."
"You're a fairy," he said, just to reassure himself that this was the right choice. This could save his papa.
"And you are not untouched by magic, are you, child?" she asked. "There's something dark in your life."
"My father," he admitted. "He's the Dark One."
"I can't make him the man he was before," she said sadly. "There's only one thing that can possibly defeat the darkness that's inside him."
"I'll do anything," he replied. "I just want my father back."
"Only a kiss borne of true love can break the Dark Curse," she said.
"True love?" he said. "What do you mean?"
"A love that doesn't demand change," she said. "A love that accepts him for who he is. It's his only hope."
"But how do I find his true love?" Bae asked. His mother was dead, and even in his memories he didn't think his mother would have accepted this.
"There are many potential true loves for everybody, even the Dark One," the fairy replied. "But it's up to your father to accept it or not. Unless he's willing to be loved, there is no hope."
Over three hundred years later…
Lady Belle of Avonlea was trying to be brave. The ogres had been encroaching further beyond their borders daily and closer to the capitol. There was only one option left to them, and it was nerve wracking. She stood in the throne room with her father and his advisors waiting for the arrival of the Dark One and hoping that he could save them all.
Her father couldn't even speak. He hadn't wanted to go along with it to begin with, but there had been no other choice. It was practically a rite of passage for young ladies in desperate circumstances to make a deal with him, and Belle couldn't think of any situation more desperate than this one.
"It will be alright, Papa," she said. "He'll help us – he has to."
"I'm not sure what he has to do, Belle," her father replied. "And I still don't like the idea of you being alone with him."
She could point out that he'd never kept one of the young ladies he dealt with for more than two months as far as anyone could remember or that they were always returned with no sign of injury or abuse. True, a few had lost their memories of the prior few days but on examination there were no signs he'd taken any sort of advantage. Mostly they had spoken of a large castle, cleaning, and a boy of varying ages. Nobody knew where the boys came from, but he always had a new one once the last one got too old. There were so many rumors and theories, but Belle didn't put much stock in those and anyway, she would surely learn the truth soon enough.
A knock sounded at the door, startling her out of her idle musings. It seemed he had taken an interest in their offer after all.
"It's him," she said. "It has to be him."
"How could he get past the walls?" her father said to no one in particular. "Open it."
Two of her father's knights went to the door and Belle felt her heart in her throat as the door swung open to reveal… nothing. He hadn't come. They were doomed.
"Well, that was a bit of a letdown."
The voice came from behind, and Belle spun to face the Dark One. He was lounging in her father's throne with a grin on his face. She'd never seen anything quite like him before. He was dressed in fine clothes of leather and silk and his skin was covered in strange golden scales. He was smaller than she had imagined, but there was a sense of power about him that made him seem larger than life. She should probably be afraid, but instead she simply felt a curiosity about him.
"You sent me a message," the Dark One said in a high trilling voice. "Something about, um, 'Help, help! We're dying! Can you save us?' Now, the answer is – yes, I can. Yes, I can protect your little town. For a price."
"You have our offer," her father said, glancing towards Belle. It was her cue.
"They say you trade for maidens," she said to the sorcerer as bravely as she could. "And I'm willing to offer my life for my people."
"Don't be so dramatic, dearie," he said as he lept to his feet and approached her. "I have no intentions of killing you."
He began slowly circling her and she turned her head to watch him as he examined her.
"A little on the short side, isn't she?" he trilled to no one in particular as he dropped into an exaggerated bow in front of her, taking her hand. "And I doubt she's ever done a day of work in her life."
She wasn't sure what to make of that. Of course she hadn't, she was a lady. What had he been expecting?
"That's enough," her father said quickly, pulling her bodily away from the Dark One. "This was a mistake."
"Papa," Belle protested. She didn't want to say it in front of the stranger, but this was their only option. No matter what, they needed him to agree to a deal. "This is my choice."
"You know," the sorcerer said. "She's right."
Belle turned back to face the stranger in front of her..
"I'll go with you," she said. "Forever. That's the term, isn't it? Forever?"
"Indeed," he replied solemnly. "And in return?"
"In return, I want my people saved from the ogres," she said. "My friends, my family, all of them."
"Alright," he said. "They'll all be safe."
"I have your word?"
"Of course," he replied with a gentle nod of his head.
"Then we have a deal," she said.
Belle felt like the breath had left her body. The entire room was a cacophony of noise – sounds of relief and fear, her father crying out for her to take it back and stay. Gaston was the only other person in the room who remained silent. She could feel his eyes boring into her. He hadn't been any more happy with this idea than her father had, but she refused to let them talk her out of it. There were plenty of other women who could go with the Dark One, after all, not just the princess. She hadn't let them dissuade her, though. She was the lady of this land, and if it was anyone's responsibility to perform this duty it was hers.
She would have liked to comfort her father with the truth that she would be home soon and would be safe and that there were no stories of him ever causing harm to any of the girls who stayed with him, but the sorcerer took her hand again, drawing her forward until he could fit one clawed hand to the small of her back and lead her from the throne room.
Rumplestiltskin was in high spirits after he deposited the girl safely in her room. At least this one hadn't cried too much when he'd locked her in, he was sure there must be flooding someplace in the castle from the last girl he'd brought (but really, what had he expected from a girl who would trade for a night at a ball? Silly thing). Bae would be happy, at least. He was always happy when there was a new girl, always hopeful. The boy had held out hope that someone could come to truly love his father, in spite of all possible evidence to the contrary.
He sighed and sat before his spinning wheel, running a hand over the smooth wood. He'd brought the wheel with him when he and Bae came to this castle a hundred and fifty or so years previously, and it had always felt strangely out of place in the Great Hall of this fine castle but paradoxically it made the place feel more like home.
"Who did you bring this time?" Baelfire's voice came from the door behind Rumplestiltskin.
The Dark One turned to see his son as he entered the hall. The boy was younger now than he had been when his father took on the curse, but with eyes far too old to be in the face of a six year old. He would grow again and Rumplestiltskin would get to watch his son grow up into a man before casting the spell to return him once again to childhood.
"This one is a princess," Rumplestiltskin said. "I saved her land from ogres."
He couldn't help but hope Bae would be pleased or impressed, but it had been a long time since his son had felt much of anything about the magic that kept him alive and kept them in a steady stream of new maids for several hundred years.
"What do you think of her?" Bae asked. In the first hundred years or so, every new girl was a cause for excitement. Now, though, there was barely any interest in his voice.
"She's fine looking, I suppose," he replied with a shrug, although the princess was startlingly pretty. "Talks too much, though."
"Well maybe I'll like her," Baelfire said. "It gets boring being up here by myself."
Rumplestiltskin felt himself flinch at that. Bae always did get on better with the various maids than his father did, to both of their chagrins. Rumplestiltskin was supposed to be finding his true love, but he'd only ever gotten along with one of the women in three hundred years, and in spite of that her kisses hadn't broken the curse. He was beginning to think nothing ever would.
"You probably will," Rumplestiltskin said to his son. "She seems nice."
Nicer than Cora, anyway. Bae never had taken to Cora no matter how much his father had, but he'd gotten on fine with all the others. Even the wolf-girl who had overturned a whole pot of potatoes on Rumplestiltskin after he'd made a particularly off-color joke. She'd been sent off that evening with an amulet to give her control of her curse and her red cloak draped over her shoulders.
"I'm not going to do this forever, Papa," Bae said, cutting into his father's thoughts. "I want to live a real life soon."
"This is a real life," Rumplestiltskin said on reflex. This wasn't the first time Baelfire had voiced his discontent with their situation and each time sent a stab of ice cold fear through his father's gut. He couldn't go on without Baelfire, and the idea of watching his son grow old and die without him was beyond all bearing.
"No it's not," Bae replied. "I want to grow up and have a family of my own. I want to get old, Papa. I want friends. I think this is my last time growing up."
Rumplestiltskin froze and clenched his hands at his sides. Bae had hinted at this before, but he'd never come out and said it, never before said he would refuse to let his father return him to childhood. What would Rumplestiltskin do if this really was the last time his son would age?
"If that's what you wish," he said at last, although his voice didn't even sound like it belonged to him. Bae was all he had left.
"It is," Bae said. "I don't want to do this again."
Rumplestiltskin turned back to the wheel and set to spinning hurriedly, and after awhile he heard the door open as his son left, presumably to go introduce himself to their guest. There was still a chance that Baelfire would change his mind, and it wasn't the first time that Bae had implied he was unhappy with their arrangement. But Bae had never said that he wouldn't go through with another childhood before.
This was a distressing turn of events, and Rumplestiltskin was half a basket of wool into puzzling it out when he heard the door open behind him. He didn't bother to turn, assuming it must be his son come back for something. It wasn't until the footsteps grew closer and he heard the distinctive swishing of petticoats that he remembered the princess. Bae must have let her out of her room, apparently the boy was serious about his ultimatum.
Rumplestiltskin's fingers were itching at the idea of talking to her. He never knew what to say to these girls when they first came to stay. He'd never been good at talking to women, and that had been when he had been a normal man trying to court a shopkeeper's fourth daughter not the Dark One attempting to make the sole princess of a small merchant kingdom fall in love with him and break a curse.
The petticoat sound stopped and he knew he was going to have to speak to her. He slowed the wheel and gathered whatever courage he possessed before turning to face the girl. She was still wearing her same golden gown from before. She must not have noticed the closet full of clothes in her room yet, or else none of them had struck her fancy though he didn't see how that was possible. It contained an obscene amount of clothing from everywhere from Agrabah to Arendelle all of which was enchanted so it would always fit the wearer. If there wasn't something she liked in the lot, she wasn't trying.
"Did you need something?" he asked her finally, trying to slip the mask of the imp back over his raw nerves. "Come to beg to return home already?"
"I'm here to be a maid, aren't I?" she replied. "I mean, that's what you wanted?"
He didn't really want anything. He wanted his son to stay, and his son wanted this to work and so he'd made the deal.
"Yes of course," he said flippantly. "You can't expect magic to do everything around here, can you?"
She looked at him curiously before nodding and looking around the room with a strangely intense interest. He watched her as she took in his knicknacks – he was strangely proud of the collection, after all, it had taken him centuries to assemble.
"Where did you get all of this?" she asked, looking at the golden fleece kept on a pedestal. "I've never seen so many treasures all in one place."
"Here and there," he said, taking some small pride that a princess would find his belongings so impressive. "I can't always trade for daughters, after all."
"I suppose not," she said thoughtfully. "You'd be overrun with them sooner or later."
He giggled at the image she'd conjured of the girls tripping over each other trying to dust. He couldn't even remember all their names or faces anymore, there had been one in residence almost the entire time he'd been the Dark One. He was just so tired of new people.
"Was there a question?" he asked her at last.
"I wanted to know what my duties would be," she said. "I mean, if I'm to be a maid, anyway."
"You can start by getting tea," he said, gesturing towards the tea set sitting on the table. "Do you know how to do that?"
"I think I can manage," she said, fiddling with the pot and the tea leaves. "What else will I be expected to know?
"I'm sure you know what maids do," he replied. "You've certainly been around them. Just… clean things."
"And the child?" she asked him.
"There's no need to clean him," he replied, and her giggle drew his attention towards her. That was entirely too pleasant a sound and he suddenly had to make it stop. "He's the one child you won't need to clean and skin for the table."
She dropped the cup she'd been holding, and quickly dropped to the floor to collect it.
"That was a quip," he replied. "Not serious."
Her face broke into a relieved smile that quickly fell as she looked down at the cup in her hands.
"It's chipped," she said meekly, holding the cup towards him and revealing the large portion of the lip that was missing. "You can hardly see it."
He almost laughed at her bald faced lie. Calling it a chip was bordering on absurd, and it was exceptionally visible. But something about her expression and the way she'd smiled and laughed at his jokes made him want to reassure her.
"It's just a cup," he replied, turning back to his work. "And the child is my son."
"Shouldn't he have a nursemaid?" she asked as she prepared another cup of tea.
Apparently Bae hadn't spoken to her, then, but that didn't mean he wanted her opinions on how his son should be cared for.
"He doesn't need one," Rumplestiltskin snapped. "He can take care of himself."
She set the cup down on the little table next to the stool and didn't say anything after that. Soon enough he heard the swishing of her skirts as she left the room. That probably could have gone a lot better.
Baelfire was so tired. It was weird going back to childhood from adulthood. His knees and ankles suddenly felt so much better, and he'd always forget that he was too short to reach things. Case in point, he was currently standing on a chair and straining to reach a bowl of berries from the pantry.
"Oh goodness! Let me get that," he heard, and he turned to see the new maid coming behind him. "You could fall."
He watched as she took the bowl down from the shelf and took it over to a lower table before setting it down. He climbed off the chair, dragged it over and hopped up onto it so he could finally get something to eat. The girl was going through cabinets as though she was looking for something, and he realized he hadn't thanked her yet.
"Thank you," he said belatedly and she turned and gave him a smile.
"You're very welcome," she replied, going back to her search. "Do you often feed yourself?"
"Papa doesn't really need to eat much," he said with a shrug. "And I do when I'm this little."
She stopped again and turned to face him quickly. Oops.
"How old are you?" she asked him.
"Physically about five I guess," he replied. "But I don't really remember exactly how many years old I am."
Her jaw dropped and she seemed on the verge of saying something, but finally she just nodded and went back to looking through the cabinets. He watched her idly as he ate his breakfast. She was pretty and sort of reminded him of his mother in a weird way – not necessarily in personality, but certainly in looks. She was very much his father's type, so perhaps this one would work out. Or maybe his father would drive her away like he had all the others.
"I'm Baelfire," he said into the silence. "What's your name?"
"Belle," she replied. "Lady Belle of the Marchlands, if you want to be precise. But Belle is fine."
"Oh," he said, because what else did one say to that? It had been awhile since they'd had a proper lady here. The last one was the princess who had wanted to raise an army against her step-mother to take back her kingdom. Bae still wasn't sure what she'd gotten out of that deal, but she had been sent off after only a couple weeks after his father caught her talking to the birds in the tower.
"So what are you here for?" he asked her.
"Ogres were attacking," she said, opening yet another cabinet. "My people were being killed, and it was an easy choice. Do you know where I can find a bucket?"
"There's one in the pantry," he replied, pointing to the right door. "Why do you need it?"
"The floors are filthy upstairs," she said. "Somebody should clean them."
"You know you don't have to, right?" he said. "He likes to act scary, but he won't actually do anything to you if you don't clean things."
"I don't have much else to do," she said with a shrug. "Anyway, I should do something. He did save my people, and I gave him my word that I'd be his maid."
Bae was on the verge of replying when suddenly a crash echoed through the castle. Belle took off towards the great hall and Bae followed not far behind on instinct, nearly crashing into her when she stopped suddenly in the doorway. He peaked out behind her skirts to see what had startled her and saw a man with a bow and arrow pointed at his smiling father.
The noise of the pair of them approaching had drawn the stranger's attention, and he quickly turned so his arrow was pointed directly their way. Bae felt Belle shove him behind her, forcing him to pull her dress back toward her side so he could still see what was going on. His father's eyes went wide for a second and then he had teleported in front of the pair of them.
"This bow is enchanted, Dark One," the stranger said. "It always hits its target."
"Then this should be fairly easy for you," his father replied in a shrill sort of voice.
The stranger took his shot, and Bae heard the woosh of the arrow as it soared through the air and slammed into his father's chest. Belle gasped, but Bae wasn't worried for his father. There was only one thing that could kill the dark one, and this hapless thief's arrow wouldn't do it.
The mood in the castle had taken a turn since the arrival of the thief. Rumplestiltskin and Baelfire had gotten into an argument over his punishment, retreating to opposite corners. The Dark One was sitting at his wheel spinning angrily, and his son had retreated off to someplace else. Belle, for her part, had decided to continue cleaning the floors. She didn't know what to say, everything about this was so strange. The thief had been locked in a dungeon, and Belle wasn't sure what was going to happen to him.
She was sweeping the floor and watching the sorcerer out of the corner of her eye as he spun the wheel faster and faster. It had been an awful argument between father and son, with the little boy insisting they let the thief go and his father saying an example needed to be made.
"This is silly," she said at last, dropping her broom with a clatter. "Just let the man go. He didn't actually steal anything."
He reached out and grabbed the wheel, stopping it suddenly. She should be intimidated, but she wasn't. She'd seen this man bested in an argument by his child, and she had no fear of him.
"He tried!" he replied sharply, turning to face her.
"All this because he tried to steal a wand?" she asked. Really, what difference could one little wand make? He must have dozens.
"No," he replied testily, standing and facing her. "Because he tried to steal from me. I'm the Dark One, dearie, everyone knows what happens when you cross me."
"They have to scrub the floors?" she shot back.
"Careful," he replied darkly, stalking towards her and looming a little comically over her – she was used to much taller men trying to intimidate her. "You're bound here until I release you, dearie. Not a moment less."
She narrowed her eyes and tried to stare him down as well as she could wearing a dirty ball gown and holding a broom. She was on the verge of stepping away and mumbling an apology when he finally turned away from her in a huff and thankfully turned and stormed out of the room. This was ridiculous. It was a wand, for goodness sake. It wasn't worth all this.
Belle propped her broom against the table and walked off in the direction of the dungeons. Baelfire was already there, sitting propped against a door with his arms wrapped around his knees.
"Is the thief in there?" she asked the boy, receiving a nod in response. "Is there a key for the door?"
"On the wall," the boy replied, pointing to a hook hanging high over his head.
"Oh for goodness sake," she said, getting on tiptoes and pulling the key down off the wall.
"You're going to let him out?" Baelfire asked, standing up so she could go to the door. "Did Papa say that you could?"
"I am," she said. "And I don't care what he says."
The boy was watching her excitedly as she fit the key into the lock and swung the door open. The thief was laying on the cot, but he leapt to his feet at the sound of the door.
"He sent a woman and a boy?" the stranger asked with confusion evident in his voice. "I expected worse, I must say."
"He didn't send either of us," Belle replied. "We're letting you go."
"I… you're… I'm sorry?" he said, looking back and forth between herself and Baelfire. "You're letting me go?"
"You should hurry," she said. "I don't know how long before he comes looking for us."
"Of course," he said quickly, brushing past her into the corridor. "You two must come with me."
"No," she said, glancing to Baelfire. "I mean, I can't. I made a deal. I can't speak for Baelfire."
"I won't leave him," Baelfire replied. "He's my father."
The thief looked back and forth between them before nodding.
"You both have my thanks," he said. "I'll never forget this."
He clapped Baelfire on the shoulder and gave Belle a little bow before he fled from the dungeon.
"Papa is going to be angry," Baelfire said, looking up at her. "Very angry."
"I don't care," she said. "Let him be angry. I'm not afraid of him."
"Where is he?" Rumplestiltskin yelled, using just a little bit of magic to make his voice reverberate through the castle. They had let his thief go, and that could not stand.
It took a little bit of searching to find them in the kitchen. The maid was apparently attempting to bake and Bae was poking at what was most likely supposed to be a muffin. They looked at each other before looking at him in unison. It had definitely been both of them to do it and this could not stand.
"Where is my thief?" he asked them as patiently as possible, though this was definitely getting on his last nerve.
"We let him go," the maid said as calmly as if she were telling him that she had burned those muffins.
"You did what?" he snarled, she was far too comfortable here for her second day.
"We let him go," she said slowly as though he were an easily confused child. "He's gone."
"And who precisely told you that you could do that?" he asked her, stepping closer to hopefully use his superior height to intimidate her since apparently his magic wasn't working.
"I did," Bae said at the same time the girl said nobody. "You know you were overreacting."
Rumplestiltskin was livid, but there was no way to argue with his son. They were already having enough troubles without adding this to it.
"And you listened to him?" he said to the maid. "Need I remind you who your deal was with?"
"I didn't listen to either one of you," she shot back. "I would have let him go with or without help. And I kept my end of the deal, I'm still here aren't I?"
"That is beside the point!" Rumplestiltskin yelled. "You're here to be a maid and that implies some level of obedience!"
"Well, then," she said idly as she peeked into the oven. "I suppose you should have mentioned that when you made the deal for me, shouldn't you have?"
The girl spun to face him and he couldn't move for a split second. Her blue eyes were alight with anger and her chin was tilted defiantly and he suddenly realized he had traded for a truly beautiful girl. All words left him and he stood there staring at her like an idiot. This was bad.
With a snap of his fingers she was gone in a cloud of smoke with only the pull off her screaming his name in annoyance to tell him how angry she was with his response to her very valid point. He would have to make sure the next maid knew the rules ahead of time to prevent this particular loophole being used against him again.
Bae was looking at him disapprovingly and Rumpelstiltskin had the uniquely unpleasant experience of being judged by a small child.
"You know she was right, Papa," the boy said as he hopped off his chair. "And you can't solve all your problems by poofing them away."
"He was stealing magic, Bae," Rumplestiltskin reminded his son. "Who knows what he meant to do with it?"
"He was a good man," Bae shot back. "Which you would have known if you had spent five minutes talking to him instead of locking him in the dungeon!"
"Good men don't steal magic!" Rumplestiltskin roared, slamming his hand on the table.
"You did!" Bae replied, his child's voice cracking as he shouted. "You were a good man, and you stole magic to save me."
Rumplestiltskin didn't know what to say, and he didn't think magically removing his son would solve this problem the way sending the maid to her room had solved the last one.
"That's not… I mean…" he stuttered, trying to figure out some combination of words that would let him save face in all this. "That's not the point!"
Baelfire didn't even do him the courtesy of pretending to believe him, instead rolling his eyes like a teenager and flouncing out of the kitchen leaving him standing there to sulk as whatever the maid had been baking burned. The next time a baker needed to deal away his daughter for something, Rumplestiltskin made a mental note to take him up on the offer.
Things were off to a rocky start, but Bae felt strangely calm about his father's reaction to the maid for one reason: he hadn't sent her away. Usually, when the girls stopped being frightened of the mystique of the Dark One and started getting on his nerves his father would send them away almost instantly. It had been a full day since the thief had broken into the castle, and Belle was still in residence. Her cooking hadn't improved a bit (though at least she read the directions, unlike Princess Snow White), but she was still there dusting and sweeping and keeping him company while his father licked his wounds in the workroom.
The more he got to know her, the more Bae started to wonder if Belle hadn't been exactly the right choice for his father. Not that he'd be able to tell either one of them that. His papa was still annoyed at being second guessed and Belle was refusing to acknowledge him until he apologized for locking her in her room for the better part of an afternoon. Neither one of them was going to make the first move before Bae was going through puberty again, so it fell to him to make things right.
Early on in the curse, Bae had knocked before entering this room but over the last century or so he'd begun simply walking into any room he wanted to be in and this was no exception. There were wizards with less knowledge of magic than Bae now possessed. Bae climbed up onto the table next to where his father was working, careful to avoid the simple good luck potion on the table.
"Belle likes books," he said by way of greeting, the slight tremor in his father's hand the only sign he'd heard. "You should show her the library."
"Why should I do that?" his father replied defensively, looking intensely at the potion as though he couldn't do it with his eyes closed.
"Because you need to apologize," Bae said.
"Apologize?" his father snorted derisively. "Why should I apologize when she's the one who set my thief free?"
"If you don't apologize she's never going to fall in love with you," Bae replied. "And she's not the one with a curse to break."
"It's been three hundred years, Bae," his father said. "I think it's time to accept that this is a fool's errand."
"It doesn't work because you don't try," Bae said. "You have to at least try."
"It's a lost cause," his father said almost sadly. "We've been through this hundreds of times before."
"I'm not going to be around forever, Papa," Bae reminded him, standing up and walking to the door. "And I don't want you to be like this forever."
His father didn't say anything as Bae left, and Bae could only hope the message had landed.
"Follow me, dearie," the Dark One said, drawing Belle's attention from the glass case she'd been cleaning. He didn't even slow down, stalking through the great hall and towards the stairs as though he were on a mission.
"Where are we going?" she asked, hurrying to catch up with him.
He didn't reply, just walked faster up the steps as she followed. Finally, they came to a heavy wooden door which he swung open, revealing a library full of books. He strode into the center of the room and gestured around flippantly.
She followed him reverently, taking in the high shelves and countless tomes. She'd never seen so many books in all her life.
"What is all this?" she asked, not taking her eyes off the treasure trove before her.
"Temper your excitement," he said. "This is merely another room for you to clean."
"It's beautiful," she said. "There's more books in here than I could read in a lifetime."
"Well, let's hope you clean faster than you read," he said with something that was almost a smile.
He turned to leave her there, and she hadn't even properly thanked him.
"Rumplestiltskin," she called after him, causing him to stop and face her. "Thank you."
"I'd better not see a single speck of dust gathering on any of these books," he replied, and she couldn't help but giggle a little at his joke. "What are you laughing at?" he continued teasingly. "I'm serious."
She nodded as solemnly as possible, but she could feel the grin on her face threatening to burst forth and he saw it, too, if the little smile on his face was anything to go by. He nodded to her quickly and left her to decide which book she wanted to read first.
Belle was sure that she could be happy here, if only it wasn't supposed to be temporary.