A/N: This is one of those middle-of-the-night-wake-me-up-and-plague-my-sleep kind of things. Once it took root, I couldn't shake it, so this story was born. This little story takes place while Snow and Charming are trying to take back the kingdom from King George and the Evil Queen…with a lot of help from Rumpelstiltskin. The 'Dragon's Breath' spell was taken from the movie 'Excalibur' (WB 1981) which I just had to include in this story bc it was just bloody perfect. I really hope you enjoy this and thank you to my fabulous friend Emilie Brown for the beautiful cover art.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own any part of OUAT or its characters nor do I own any part of the movie 'Excalibur' or its characters. This fic was written in fun and with no intention of infringing on any copyrights.
WARNING: This is an M rated fic and will contain some language and smut. So if that's not your thing, I will understand if you don't care to read. Just thought I would warn you.
SUMMARY: .War is ravaging the White Kingdom as Snow and Charming fight back against Regina and George's steadily growing armies. An ancient scroll from the great wizard Merlin may be their last hope. Only the most powerful sorcerers can cast such a precious enchantment. But will Rumpelstiltskin agree to do what's best for the kingdom when it could cost him everything, and everyone, he loves?
Dragon's Breath
By:
CharlotteAshmore
Rumpelstiltskin carefully corked the last vial of the potion he'd been brewing for the last twelve hours and placed it in the cabinet. It wasn't even an important potion…just a cordial should his little maid fall ill with a cold. Winter was approaching and he couldn't have her falling ill. Who would clean the castle? Good help was hard to come by nowadays. He dropped back down on the stool at his worktable and propped his chin in his left hand, drumming the blackened nails of his free one on the scarred oak surface. Oh, who was he kidding? She hadn't been just a maid to him in months…ever since he'd caught her as she'd fallen from the ladder in the Great Hall, since she'd stopped seeing him as her formidable master…since she'd come back to him after he'd let her go. Oh, no. The former high princess of Avonlea was by all intents and purposes now the Lady of the Dark Castle. Not that he'd ever admit such a thing to his little Belle. It would simply make her look further behind the mask he wore to see just how utterly lost he was where she was concerned.
He sighed wearily and scored the tabletop with his nails, thoroughly disgusted with himself. How the hell had he allowed this to happen? She was supposed to be the hired help…not even that, really. She was bound to him, the feared Dark One, his caretaker for as long as he wished to have her. She was supposed to be someone to care for his home, to provide him with amusement, someone to talk to when the loneliness of his existence became overly unbearable. She was not supposed to burrow her way behind his carefully constructed facade and into the blackness of his heart, infecting him with her light. He snarled, she smiled. He exposed her to his dark humor, she blushed prettily and laughed at his quips. He raged and threw his tantrums, she arched her perfectly sculpted brows and offered him tea to soothe him. She was a conundrum…and he was hopelessly in love with her.
And now he was hiding away from her in his tower laboratory, coward that he was. What had he been thinking?! He'd been called away on that deal in Sussex to bargain with that insipid maid for a potion to make her beautiful to win the man of her dreams. There was no amount of magic that would've helped that one, he thought as a violent shudder ran through him. A wasted trip…or it would have been had he not decided to visit the market. It was just calling to him from the window of the dressmaker's shop, the most lovely confection of ivory silk he'd ever seen with a full flowing skirt, a deeply scooped neckline and delicate pink roses with their trailing green vines embroidered on the bodice and hem. He could picture it so clearly draped over his little Belle's petite frame, the capped sleeves leaving her smooth ivory arms bare. He'd imagined what it would feel like if he happened to reach out and brush her exposed arm in passing and it had convinced him that it was time to buy her something besides the sedate work dresses he'd provided for her when she'd come to live with him. He'd even bought her undergarments, shoes and a hair ribbon to match.
It wasn't until he'd returned home that he'd realized his grave error. He'd never given her a gift before…at least not one that wasn't borne of necessity. He'd been planning to leave it for her in the Great Hall for her to find the next morning, it being late when he'd returned. He had not been expecting to find her sitting before the hearth in her nightclothes, brushing out her long chestnut locks to a brilliant shine, a book and a cooling cup of tea at her side seemingly forgotten. He'd been frozen to the spot, his mouth going dry, just standing there mesmerized by the sight of her beauty, the clear knowledge that she belonged to him and him alone weighing heavily upon his mind.
Belle's sparkling cerulean eyes had been filled with happiness and welcome for him when she turned to acknowledge his presence and he'd continued to stand there for a full minute unsure of what to do or say, the packages in his arms forgotten. Her lips had turned up into an angelic smile as she inquired, "Did you decide to forgo to deal in favor of doing some shopping?"
He seemed to come back to himself at the sound of her voice and he'd been able to finally make his feet move towards the table to set down his packages. "I…ah," he stammered, his voice even more high-pitched than normal, causing him to clear his throat. "I took a fancy to something I saw in one of the shops," he finished lamely, inwardly kicking himself for not coming up with a better excuse for his gift.
Belle had set the brush down and rose to her feet, pulling the edges of her robe more securely about her. "Oh?" she asked, her curiosity making her eyes widen with excitement as she moved to stand beside him.
His thin lips had quirked up on one side, her excitement infectious. He had waved a hand at the packages in a nonchalant manner as if they were of no importance. "Mhm. Just a trifle." He knew he was prolonging her suspense, but it was worth it to watch her catch her luscious lower lip between her pearly teeth and her expressive eyes dart back and forth between him and the packages as she waited for him to open them. Her fingers had joined together and twisted about each other as her anxiety grew until finally he'd teased, "Well, dearie, aren't you going to open them? They're for you after all."
A squeal of delight, her brightest smile and then she was tearing into the paper and ribbons with zeal. She'd attacked the largest box containing the dress first and the gasp that fell from her lips made his heart contract in a peculiar way. Her hands had covered her mouth and she'd turned those bright eyes, shimmering with happy unshed tears up at him, her voice little more than a whisper as she'd asked, "For me?"
"I don't see another female in the castle, dearie, and somehow I don't think it would look quite as nice on me," he'd snarked, one brow raised condescendingly.
Instead of taking offense at his sarcasm, she'd snorted and lifted the gown from the box, holding it to her and exclaiming over the softness of the fabric and the expertise of the craftsman who'd brought it into being. "It's beautiful, Rumpel," she'd breathed…and then promptly threw her arms around his neck, the dress crushed between them.
His eyes had widened and the breath had hitched tightly in his chest, his arms hanging uselessly at his side as he'd felt full-blown panic overtake him. The simple pleasure of his name, shortened as it was on her sweet lips, was NOT lost on him. Oh gods! She's touching me! She's touching me! WILLINGLY touching me! What is wrong with this girl? Why isn't she scared of me? She's touching me! What do I do? Do I touch her back? Will she run screaming if I do? And then his brain completely ceased to function as her petal soft lips brushed against his cheek and she slowly drew away to settle back onto the balls of her feet.
The urge to cup her face in his hands, to mold his lips to hers, to partake of her sweet mouth had been overwhelming and he'd found it to be his fondest wish in that moment. Before he could give in to the desire, he'd stammered an excuse about having work to do and magicked himself to his tower, the last glimpse of her crestfallen expression more painful than if he'd thrown himself on his own dagger. Would she have been receptive or would she have scorned his shy advances? He couldn't take the chance that she would reject him. So now I'm hiding like the weakling I am, he thought dejectedly. But what choice did he have? He had to protect himself, protect what was left of his damaged heart.
And eventually, he realized with a sigh, he would have to come out of his tower. He wouldn't be able to hide away in here from her forever. Two days was more than enough. Now if he could just find the courage to do so.
He felt a prickle of awareness creep up his spine and he focused his attention on it, stretching out with his heightened senses to locate the disturbance to his peace. Weeping. His Belle was weeping, muffled tears for certain, but tears nevertheless. Was she hurt? Without a thought to his previous musings, he bounded to his feet and wrenched the door to the tower open and was hurtling down the marble staircase, so intent on vanquishing whatever had caused her distress he didn't even think to use magic to bring him to her side. His face fell as he burst through the doors of the Great Hall, ready to defend the woman who'd so thoroughly claimed his heart for her own with every ounce of magic he possessed, to find her weeping… her hand covering her mouth to stifle her sobs…over a book.
Belle dropped the tome in her hands and jumped up from the settee, her eyes wide and startled at his abrupt entrance. "Oh, Rumpelstiltskin, I…I'm sorry. I hadn't realized it was time for your tea. I'll…um…I'll get it now," she stammered, hurriedly brushing tears from her ashen cheeks and turning on her heel to make her way to the kitchens before he could say a single word.
Rumpelstiltskin threw out a hand to stop her, his words dying on his lips as she disappeared through the door before he could call her back. He smacked a palm over his face and raked it all the way down over his chin in vexation. "Damnation!" he cursed, pacing before the hearth. He'd barely noticed that she was wearing his gift. Well of course he'd noticed, he just hadn't had more than a second to take her in before she'd vanished.
By the time she'd returned, he was ready to crawl out of his skin in his nervousness. And just how was he supposed to hide that from her as perceptive as she was, hm? She set the tea service on the end of the long dining table and immediately set about preparing him a cup of the aromatic brew that she'd perfected to his delight in the past months. She stirred in three sugar cubes and a slice of lemon before handing it to him and preparing her own with a spoonful of honey and a half of a lemon slice. Her smile wavered almost imperceptibly as she raised her gaze to his, her eyes red rimmed and slightly puffy.
His warm amber gaze traveled from the top of her chestnut curls to the toes of her satin slippers which peeked from beneath the hem of her dress, an appreciative smile curling his lips as his thumb toyed along the edge of the chipped cup in his hands. He wanted so badly to tell her how lovely she looked in her new gown, but the words lodged in his throat and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. Instead, he forayed into safer waters and asked, "What has you so distressed, dearie? Burn another pot of water?"
He turned away from her so she couldn't see the grimace that crossed his angular features. His tongue never failed to bedevil him in the girl's presence and he mentally smacked himself. He turned back to her once he'd schooled his face back into a bland mask and trusted himself enough to look at her without betraying the roiling emotions in his gut.
Belle's smile was indulgent as she met his gaze and moved off to sit on the settee to sip her tea. He followed after her, drawn to her like a moon to orbit about a planet. "No, Rumpel, I merely didn't like the book I was reading," she said, her voice still raspy from her weeping.
"Something I might like?" he asked, perching a hip against the arm of the settee on the opposite end from where she sat. He wanted to sit next to her, to draw her into the circle of his arms and comfort her, but he feared he'd never find the courage to be so bold with her.
She huffed a laugh and showed him the cover of the book she'd just finished. "Highly doubtful," she scoffed.
"Really, dearie," he said, perusing the cover with a sneer. "Where did you find this? 'The love of Arthur'? How revolting. You couldn't have found that in our library."
Belle's lips parted on a pleased gasp at the use of his our before they turned up into a smile. "I did indeed find it in our library. You know I enjoy tales of King Arthur and his knights. I thought I would enjoy this one as well, but…"
"Too sappy twoo wuv romantic for you?"
"Uh…no."
"Sentimental?" he asked, his brows drawing together.
"Rumpel, do you know nothing of Arthur and Guinevere?" she asked dryly, one dark brow perched in query.
His nose scrunched up as he teasingly asked, "She was the queen, right?"
"Pfft!" she scoffed, waving the book under his nose as she rose to her feet. "She was a faithless wretch is what she was!"
He slid off the arm of the settee to land on the seat in an effort to avoid being hit with her book. Thankfully, he'd just drained his cup and its contents didn't end up in his lap. "How so?" he asked, his voice taking on a deeper timbre as he watched her pace before him, her ire heightening her color and making her eyes flash with an inner fire. Gods, how he wanted her. She was nothing like the other royals he'd ever met. She was intelligent and beautiful and radiated passion from her every pore, be it whether she was speaking of the weather or her favorite book. She made him want to grab life with both hands and never let go, to jump into an icy fjord and relish the exhilaration of the frigid water, to take a chance. He was finding more and more that he wanted to take a chance on her…that she would more than be worth the risk.
"How so, you ask? You do know the story of how Arthur pulled the sword from the stone, yes?"
Rumpelstiltskin waved a dismissive hand, trying to concentrate more on her words than her bosom heaving under the strain of her upset. "Yes, yes, everyone knows that story."
"Well when Arthur went to aid Leondegrance, Guinevere's father, she was so taken by Arthur. It was supposedly love at first sight. She was thrilled with the first bloom of love for the new king, ready to commit her heart to him," she said, casting him a pointed glare to make sure he was paying attention. "And she did. I really believe she was in love with him…until Arthur sent Lancelot to escort her to Camelot. When she set eyes on him, apparently she forgot all about the king in favor of his champion. What kind of woman does that?!" she fumed.
"A typical royal," he said, rising to pour himself another cup of tea and see what kind of pastries she'd perhaps brought for their enjoyment. He didn't see the narrowing of her eyes or the color blooming in her cheeks. He jumped when she slammed the book forcefully onto the table, causing the china to rattle and shake.
"Not all of us are like that, Rumpelstiltskin!"
His eyes widened in alarm, never having seen her display such a marked bout of temper before. He was quick to reassure her. "Dearie, I never meant to imply that you—"
"Of course you didn't!" she hissed. "You never imply anything, do you? Guinevere was flighty and faithless and was clearly ruled by her—"
"Belle!" he bellowed, cutting her off, afraid of what she was going to say.
"—lust, rather than her heart. Arthur loved her and she chose another. If she was so intent on taking Lancelot to her bed, she shouldn't have married Arthur and then broken his heart. He didn't deserve that."
Rumpelstiltskin crossed his arms over his chest and nibbled thoughtfully on the biscuit he'd plucked from the tray. "It's just a story, Belle, a legend. There's nothing to say it even happened. Why are you getting so upset?"
As his words sank in, she lowered her head, realizing she was being silly. She refused to acknowledge that it affected her not so much because of Guinevere's faithlessness, but because of her own situation with her sorcerer master. She was frustrated beyond words with his avoidance of his feelings for her…because she was convinced that there were feelings and not just on her part. "I'm sorry, Rumpel. It's just women like that make it so difficult for the rest of us. Men see how women can treat others like Guinevere treated Arthur and think the rest of us are like that. It makes them not want to trust a woman with their heart."
He gravitated towards her and she to him until they were a mere foot apart. Against his will he placed one long finger beneath her chin and gently raised her face to his, his breath warm as it fanned against her face. Her breath caught and hope took wing in her breast as her eyes searched his face, his eyes so warm, his features softened. "Anyone to win your heart should consider himself the most fortunate man in the realms, Belle," he said reverently as his hand splayed over her soft cheek, his smile gentle yet sad, knowing that he'd never be so lucky as to be that man. Man. A man is what she deserved, not a monster.
And then she surprised him as she leaned into his tentative touch and pressed her petal soft lips to his palm, her eyes never leaving his, the pupils dilating with unmistakable desire. "What if—"
His head jerked up as a pounding on the castle doors broke the spell they'd found themselves under and she quickly drew away from him, startled by the intrusion.
"Would you…ah…would you like me to get that?" she asked, her voice breathy as she fought to calm her thundering heart and quell the disappointment caused by the interruption.
His eyes narrowed menacingly at the double doors that led into the foyer, but his tone was gentle as he directed his next words to her. "No, dearie, sit and enjoy your tea. I will get rid of the interlopers. You may depend upon that," he said, stalking off towards the door.
"No more snails, please, Rumpel. The slime is just impossible to scrub from the rugs," she called dryly from behind him as she took her tea and settled once more on the settee.
He snorted as the double doors opened into the foyer, Belle's quip having taken the edge off of his anger…just a bit…leaving him in a better frame of mind to deal with his unwanted guests. He stopped next to the round table set in the middle of the foyer and flicked a lazy hand at the entry doors, willing them to open. He rolled his eyes as Prince James…David…shepherd…aw hell, whatever it was he was calling himself this week, stepped over the threshold.
"Ah, shepherd, the bane of my existence. My life was peaceful before I made that last deal with George. I'm thinking I should have left your sorry arse on the farm with your mother," Rumpelstiltskin lamented, one brow raised and his arms crossed over his chest.
The princeling, dubbed Charming by his lovely raven-haired princess Snow White, held up a hand in a gesture of surrender, praying that the wily sorcerer wouldn't hex him before he could explain the reason for his visit. "Just hear me out."
Rumpelstiltskin narrowed his eyes on the man, his lip curling in disgust. "The last I heard, you and your princess were taking back the kingdom," he trilled, flourishing his hand dramatically as he paced around the table to face Charming, "from George and Regina. If you're here to ask for help, I've got two words for you…not interested."
Charming grinned, showing nearly all his teeth, and held out a small wooden box inlaid with runes. "I think this might change your mind."
The point between the sorcerer's eyes crinkled slightly as he eyed the box with interest, and the fingers of his right hand rubbed against his thumb. "Really, dearie?" he asked, trying for a casual tone to hide his piqued interest. "What could you possibly have that would interest me?"
Charming grin grew, convinced he had the imp exactly where he wanted him…firmly on his side with the potential deal. "Ancient scrolls found in a lost cavern beneath the dwarf mines."
Rumpelstiltskin felt a faint shimmer of power trickle down his spine, refusing to believe what the clueless shepherd turned prince held in his hands. "Come!" he snapped, pivoting on his heel and re-entering the Great Hall, Charming on his heels.
Charming was drawn up short as his eyes fell on Belle. "Oh, hello, milady," he said, judging from her carriage and dress that she was indeed a well-bred lady.
"Hello," Belle said, a demure smile upon her lips as she rose from her seat and bobbed a quick curtsey. She took Rumpelstiltskin's hand as he reached her side, her smile turning warm. "I suppose our tea time is to be cut short?"
The impish pitch to his voice gentled into the deep rich timbre he seemed to use only in her presence as he said, "I'm sorry, dearie, but I need to tend to a spot of business. Would you leave us for a bit?" he asked, his thumb rubbing soothing little circles across the back of her hand.
Belle glanced over at Charming uncertainly and then back at Rumpelstiltskin. "Would you like me to bring a fresh pot of tea for your guest?"
"That won't be necessary. He won't be staying," he said, one side of his mouth curving into a familiar smirk.
The only thing that betrayed her amusement was the mirthful gleam in her cerulean eyes. She nodded and turned to leave, his eyes following her until she'd left the room and disappeared into the corridor leading to the kitchen. She might not make tea for the princeling, but he knew she'd have a fresh pot for them to share after the prince's departure. He was snapped out of his reverie by Charming's rather loud throat clearing, so he turned finally to give the man his full attention.
"Who is she?" Charming asked, his eyes resting on the door Belle had disappeared behind.
The imp's eyes narrowed on the man as he hissed, "Never you mind who she is. She is my guest…my very willing guest…and in no need of rescuing. So rid your head of such thoughts right now, dearie."
"Right," Charming said, not willing to get on the Dark One's bad side over the pretty maiden…if she was still a maiden, he thought with a shudder…especially when she looked to be more than comfortable in Rumpelstiltskin's presence. "So," he began, setting the box on the long dining table for the imp's perusal. "Our advisors can't seem to make any sense of the box or its contents. You were the most logical choice to help us find answers. We're hoping it might be something that can help us bring an end to the conflict. Even Blue wasn't able to tell us anything useful."
Rumpelstiltskin snorted. "Of course not," he said, brushing his fingers over the runes carved into the lid of the cedar box. "This predates even her."
"And you?"
"Oh, I can read it," he murmured reverently more to himself than to the princeling, his nail tracing over the symbol for dragon. "This belonged to Merlin. It's been lost for centuries, thought to have been lost when he met his end at Morganna's hands. It shouldn't even be in this realm. No wonder Morganna was never able to find it."
"But what is it? Could it help our cause?" Charming asked, a puzzled frown marring his perfect features.
Rumpelstiltskin ignored him, still fighting with his disbelief that he actually held something belonging to the greatest sorcerer to have ever lived. He opened the box, his eyes widening as he took in the scroll within. He lifted it out and unrolled it, laying it flat against the table, his amber eyes flickering swiftly over the words. "The Charm of Making…"
"The charm of what?" Charming asked, perching a hip against the table and looking over the Dark One's shoulder.
Rumpelstiltskin's expression was pained as he looked at Charming. "Gods bones, shepherd! Do you know nothing about Merlin and Arthur and…no I suppose you don't," he said, his tone laced with disgust. "And I don't have the time or inclination to educate you. My Belle would no doubt enjoy sitting down with you and explaining since she's well versed on the subject, but well…you can forget that." There was no way he would punish his little love by exposing her to the dull-witted consort of Snow White. They'd be here all week. "This spell will ensure a successful outcome of anything the caster desires." He voice dropped to barely more than a whisper. "It can call forth the Dragon's Breath. To wield that kind of power…"
"Could you cast it?"
"No."
"No? Just no? You're the Dark One," Charming said in exasperation, raking a hand through his short-cropped hair. "I didn't think anything was beyond your power."
Rumpelstiltskin waved his hand dismissively. "I didn't say it was beyond my power, dearie. It's that I choose not to cast it. It's too dangerous."
"But—"
The sorcerer pointed a long finger at Charming and scowled. "When Merlin cast the Dragon's Breath…or the Charm of Making if you will…so that Uther could lie with Igrayne to beget Arthur, it took him nine moons to recover! Do you think I would leave myself vulnerable for that long?"
"But if it could rid us all of Regina and George's tyranny and bring peace to the kingdom—" Charming protested.
"Out of the question. This isn't just about me. I would need Belle to assist me and there is no way I would expose her to that much magic, that much power. She could be harmed and I will not risk her," he growled through clenched teeth, his eyes darkening with his ire.
Charming's eyes widened incredulously, never having seen the mage so passionate over another person before, realization dawning in his blue eyes. "You love her!"
Rumpelstiltskin's lips curled back over his ruined teeth as he glared at the princeling. "Never mind my affairs, shepherd. Just know that I will not endanger my Belle and I cannot cast it without her. So run on along now back to your princess and tell her you've failed."
"Rumpelstiltskin."
The imp whirled around, the tension in his shoulders palpable as his gaze met Belle's. "Belle…"
"Please forgive me for interrupting, but may I please speak with you for just a moment?" she asked as respectfully as possible. She wanted to scold him for telling the prince no, but she didn't want to get into a full blown argument in the prince's presence.
Without a word to Charming, Rumpelstiltskin crossed the room to stand before her. "You were listening at the door again, weren't you?" he asked, one dark brow raised in suspicion.
She ducked her head, confirmation that she had indeed been eavesdropping. "Your voice carries."
"Of course it does," he said dryly, smirking down at her. "I suppose you heard everything we were discussing?" He paled beneath the green gold hue of his skin, praying that she hadn't heard Charming's remark about him being in love with her.
Belle nodded, her teeth worrying her lower lip. "You should do it…cast the spell, I mean."
"Belle, no, I can't," he protested, refusing to argue with her. Too bad she wasn't of the same opinion.
"Rumpel, you can't be selfish about this!" she hissed in a furious whisper, her eyes pleading. "This could benefit the entire kingdom. You would be helping, showing everyone that you aren't as cold-hearted as people say." She stepped closer to him, closing the distance until the bodice of her dress brushed against his brocade vest. She raised her hand and rested it on his chest, over his heart. "Please, Rumpel. Let them see what I see."
He felt as though he were drifting along in a fog, only the sound of her voice anchoring him in reality as he covered her hand with his and held it tightly to his chest, the heat of her palm seeping through his clothes and warming his cold heart. "What do you see, Belle?" he asked, his voice a husky whisper as his gaze settled on her lips.
"I see a good man, one who hides his true self behind the mask of the Dark One. You need to do this, Rumpel," she replied, raising her other hand to brush the hair away from his eyes where it had fallen. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch, seeking more of her warmth and letting it wrap around his very soul. "Please?"
"I can't take the chance that you'll be hurt by this, Belle. I won't," he said, brushing a curl over her shoulder, his gaze sliding away from hers so he didn't have to see the disappointment in her eyes.
Belle sighed wearily, cursing his stubbornness. "This should be my choice and I want to do this. I want to help."
The muscle twitched in his jaw as he clenched his teeth. "No, you want to be the bloody hero! That's what this is all about. You think this will be an adventure and you will be able to save everyone. This is too dangerous and I won't let you walk blindly into it and—"
"It's my fate, Rumpelstiltskin! How dare you think me some silly girl who doesn't have a rational thought in my head? You don't own me anymore!" she fumed, her voice rising.
"I didn't say you were a silly girl," he said in his own defense. Although he couldn't argue with the fact that their deal was long since over…had been since he'd sent her to town with no expectations of her return.
"Then stop treating me like one!" she said, crossing her arms over her chest.
"I'm sorry," they both said in unison. Belle blushed, Rumpelstiltskin snapped his jaw shut and Charming snickered. The mage glared over at the princeling, who promptly turned his back and hoped he would be walking away from this encounter instead of slithering home on his belly.
Belle's eyes brightened and a clever smile blossomed on her rosebud mouth. "Let's look at this rationally. Why would I be in danger? You've never failed to protect me before, so why would this be any different?"
He smacked a palm to his brow and dragged it wearily down his face. Gods! She's now going to logic me to death! "I could lose myself in the spell and the Dark One could gain control. I do NOT trust that demon…in full control of my body…anywhere near you. That should be enough."
"You wouldn't harm me, Rumpel," she insisted, her faith in him unwavering. "Try again. I refuse to give up until you give me a valid reason—"
"That bloody well was a valid reason!"
"—that I can accept."
"I'll need your blood. You, being the closest to me…I mean…you live with me, after all and…uh…you know what I mean!" he stammered, hating the fact that she was the only person he knew who could render him tongue-tied. "And if the spell drains me of my power I won't be able to protect you."
"Which means I need to be there to protect you," she said, smiling smugly up at him.
"The point of this conversation is moot, because we're not doing it," he argued. "As long as you live in the Dark Castle under my protection, you will bend to my will and trust that I have your best interests at heart."
"Fine!" Belle stated, raising her stubborn chin and striding off towards the double doors leading out into the foyer so she could go upstairs to her room.
"Where are you going?" he asked, his brow furrowing in consternation.
"To pack."
"WHAT?!"
Belle cast him an irate glare over her shoulder, but she didn't stop. "I'm certain the prince will offer me sanctuary in his home until I can contact my papa. And while I'm there I'm sure he and his princess will allow me to do whatever I'm able to assist them in their war effort."
"Belle!" the mage roared as she disappeared through the door. He ignored the chortling prince and stormed off after her. He had to use magic to catch her before she gained the staircase, poofing into her path and catching her by her upper arms as she lost her footing and stumbled into him. "Don't leave," he whispered, pain at the thought of her leaving, tearing at his heart and showing clearly in his tone.
"Is there nothing we can do? They need you, Rumpel," she said, bracing her hands on his chest to maintain her balance, but making no effort to regain the distance between them, content to remain in his embrace. "We can do this together, Rumpel. We can protect one another."
He ducked his head, his hair falling into his eyes. "You're the only woman in seven realms that would ever want to protect me, dearie," he said, the walls around his heart crumbling ever further.
Her hands lifted from his chest to cradle his face. "I care about you," she whispered, trying to convey her feelings without overwhelming him with the true extent of what dwelled within her heart.
Rumpelstiltskin huffed a rueful laugh. "Pretty words."
"Do you really think I would have come back to you if I didn't care?" she asked, her heart aching for the damaged, wounded man that lived behind the mask of the Dark One, the man that couldn't see his own worth and refused to believe that someone could love him.
"You didn't have anywhere to go?"
"Rumpel…" she sighed, rolling her eyes.
"You forgot your favorite pair of heels?"
She smacked him on the arm. "Now you're just being ridiculous."
"You like me when I tease you," he said with a giggle. "But we're still not doing the spell."
Belle counted to ten to quell her fiery temper and tried to think of something…anything…that would convince him to help the royals. He had turned away from her, had already begun to walk back in the direction of the Great Hall to tell the prince to be on his way when her voice stopped him cold in his tracks.
"Make a deal with me!"
A shiver of anticipation raised the fine hairs on the back of his neck as he turned back to face her, his fingers twitching nervously at his side. "A deal? And what could you have that I want, dearie? I already know what you want…what is it you think I want?"
"Me…forever," she said softly, steadily meeting his gaze with not a trace of fear in her eyes.
He swallowed around the lump that formed in his throat as the ramifications of her simple statement slammed into him. "You shouldn't leave yourself so open to…interpretation. It will get you in trouble someday. Besides, we've already visited that deal. Who's to say I want to make it again?"
Belle closed the distance between them again and splayed her hands open on his chest, the wild thrumming of his heart beneath her hand all the answer she needed. "Because you care for me just as deeply as I care for you, Rumpelstiltskin," she said, confidence coloring her tone. "If you agree to this deal, you will have me forever…all of me, heart, mind, body and soul. I will be yours…forever."
He had to bite down on his tongue to stop himself from jumping onto that deal with both feet. "Why? Why would you want to bind yourself to me?"
"Hold up your end of the deal and you can see for yourself. It won't be the first time I've allowed you to invade my thoughts and feelings. It's the only way you will be able to see for yourself anyway. Now, do we have a deal?" she asked, her nails grazing his chest lightly where it was bared by the deep vee of his silk shirt.
He stepped away from her and drew a deep cleansing breath to clear his head. The minx had the power to sap his will away from him and have him lay the world at her feet…without his dagger coming anywhere into play. He loved her…even if he hadn't professed his feelings to her…and he had an overwhelming desire to please her. But were the risks worth the price of the magic involved? Were they worth the ultimate prize of having her at his side forever? In his heart and life and…bed?
He had to try once more to dissuade her from such folly. He stalked around her, a predator in the truest sense. His hands skimmed lightly over her waist before hauling her back roughly against his chest. Though the action startled a gasp from her, she showed no fear and no disgust, confident that he'd never hurt her. She wrapped her arms over the tops of his and pressed farther back into his embrace
His breath was hot against her ear, his lips trailing over the shell as he whispered, "You would give yourself to a beast, Belle? You have to be absolutely certain. Forever is a long time to share my bed."
Heat pooled low in her belly and it was all she could do to remain still in his arms, to stop herself from turning in his embrace and kissing him senseless. She turned her gaze up to his, inwardly cringing at the fear of rejection she read so clearly in his warm amber eyes. "Yes," she said simply. "Yours."
He searched her face for any sign of treachery, his brow furrowing with bewilderment when he found none.
"Shall I sign a contract?" she asked when the silence became more than she could bear.
His tongue snaked out to wet his parched lips as he allowed her to turn in his arms, finding himself unable to let her go. "No, no contract. We'll do as we did before and have a verbal agreement."
"Seems like a mighty important deal to seal with a handshake, don't you think?" she asked, a rosy blush rising to stain the apples of her cheeks.
His grin was positively wicked and filled with promise as he lowered his head, his lips almost brushing hers. "How about we seal this one with a kiss? The first of many?" he asked, leaving the final decision in her hands.
Her hands slid slowly into his hair, her fingers twining themselves through his soft curls, and closed the distance separating them, capturing his lower lip between her own. Bliss…pure unadulterated bliss…was the only word she could think of to describe the feeling of his lips pressed so sweetly to hers and even that didn't seem to even come close to what she was feeling. His hands moved from her hips, one to wrap firmly around her waist, the other sliding up the smooth expanse of her back to rest at her nape, holding her still as he took control of the kiss, his tongue sliding sensuously along her bottom lip. She opened for him, gasping in surprise…no one had ever told her THAT…and then melting into him, fire igniting in her blood as he explored every crevice within.
She tugged painfully on his hair as she sought to get closer to him and he swallowed down her soft moan before recalling they weren't alone in the castle and settled for a few more sipping kisses before drawing back to look down into her passion-darkened eyes. He pressed his brow to hers, willing his heart to slow to a more manageable rhythm before trusting himself to speak. Still he sought her reassurance. "Belle, are you sure?"
"Yes, Rumpel, I've never been more certain of anything in my life…I want you, only you," she vowed.
"Then I do believe the deal is struck. And should we survive this…"
"Stop being a pessimist!" she scolded. "We're going to be fine and the kingdom will find peace."
He offered her his arm. "Come, love, let's tell the shepherd what he wants to hear. Tomorrow night is the full moon and would be perfect to work our magic. We've much to do to prepare, and we might as well get started."
X*X*X*X*X
A/N: Well, once again I have failed to make a successful o/s. I'm apparently too long winded for a short piece. Lol. So here's the first part. I'm already working on the second. So hopefully, I'll have more for you either tonight or tomorrow. I would really love to hear what you think…good OR bad. Thanks for reading as always!