As a rule, I never take on servants. Magic will do anything that I require and maids tend to cry and snivel a lot. So what was I doing with a new caretaker? She was beautiful, to be sure, but inept in the ways of - care taking? A daughter of a lord of the ravaged frontier lands, she was a fine young lady, raised to become the pampered wife of a greater lord than her father. Instead, I took her away as my price for her father's victory, serving me tea in her fancy dress and chipping my good china.
I relished the fear and her trembling voice, apologizing for damaging a simple cup. Magnanimous, I waved it off: it's just a cup.
She is dressed much too fine for this job, I mused, examining the golden gown through narrowed eyes. I ought to have another made. One less - distracting, I decided, tearing my gaze away from her bare shoulders.
After serving my tea, the girl, Belle, hastened from the room. I could feel the magic on the back of my neck, like a gentle breath, as torches and candles sprang to life, lighting her way down to the kitchen.
Damned distracting.
The weeks slipped by without my notice and Belle and I had settled into a comfortable routine of avoidance or silence when it couldn't be helped; even I couldn't hide out in the workroom forever. In those weeks, she had taught herself how to clean, wash clothing and bed linens, start the hearth fires; I drew the line at her chopping wood. The ball gown had been traded for a practical blue work frock (she could probably make a burlap sack look fashionable) and eventually she began giving herself chores in the dining room while I was spinning. Now and again, when she thought I was lost in my task, I would catch her curious, sidelong glances as she seemed to lose her fear of me.
You can't fool me, dearie. There are only so many times you can dust the same shelf.
Business took me away from the Dark Castle for much of the deep winter. It was not uncommon to spend several weeks away from home, making the rounds, sealing my deals, with my ears to the ground for new clients; desperate souls were everywhere. I enjoyed my livelihood, for the most part, it was very lucrative. But at night, in various inn rooms throughout the kingdoms, my thoughts would turn to Belle, all alone in the Dark Castle.
Those rare times when I did have a serving girl in the castle, I never spared a thought to her well-being while I was away. Hardly spared a thought to them even when I was at home. But Belle - she was different, she was a lady and unaccustomed to isolation, growing up in her father's small court. The deep snows of January would have confined her to the castle, unable to take the rambling walks on the grounds that she had begun to take. I said nothing about them, she could not leave if she were to try; the grounds were enchanted to keep what was mine in and what I did not want, out. The wistfulness in her eyes the few times I'd seen her lingering near the doors was enough to still my tongue.
She must be lonely, for her friends and father, perhaps even that hulking ignoramus who claimed to be her betrothed. As much as I hated to admit it, I missed her. The awkward and mostly unsuccessful attempts to draw me into conversation were sweet and I liked listening to her thoughts on whatever she had been reading; not that I would let on that I was actually paying attention. I frowned at my hands, idle in my lap, imagining them upon Belle's; their odd sheen of gold underneath the gray-green hue would look sickly against her smooth, rosy complexion. The gold shone dully in the firelight. I balled them into fists, tore my eyes away, and tried to put her from my mind.
Not that it mattered that I missed her. Stretching my legs out before the fire, my lip curled into a sneer at the flames as they licked at the popping wood. Who would wish for the company of a monster?
Spring came early to the mountains that year. The snows fled further north, the sun shone hotter and the trees and flowers in my gardens awoke earlier, as if just for Belle, who relished the golden sunshine every chance she could. Away in my tower work room, I pretended not to know that my servant was slipping into the gardens having conversations with the birds. That I could be aware of everything in and around the Dark Castle did not seem to cross her mind. The winter had left her pale and looking sad; my chest ached to see it. So, as was becoming my rule with Belle, I said nothing.
I stood at the work bench, pestle idle in my hand and staring at the jars I had set out to refill. Belle's humming drifted up the stairs and I found myself distracted by that wellspring of joy. It baffled me but I'm not sure I ever understood joy.
With a determined shake of my head, I set the pestle back to work, grinding minerals into powders, leaving grotesque psychedelic stains on my already grotesque skin. With gritted teeth, I tried to be annoyed with her song. I would never get anything done with this girl around.
And there was so much to do. Always so much work to be done. Locking the now replenished cabinet, I glanced at a row of bottles standing proudly in their display rack. A collection completed, save for one: true love. The empty slot where the elusive ingredient should be taunted me day after day. If one could bottle true love, one could do anything. I could leave this world and travel beyond it. I could find my son.
Perhaps I had been hasty in bringing her here. I did not need that pretty face consuming my thoughts. I needed to stay on task.
I ran my fingers, olive green and blackened nails, over the label, scowling at the empty place. Keep your eyes on the prize, Rumpelstiltskin, nothing matters more than finding him. Belle had moved on to another task, her song fading away, leaving only silence.
Nothing matters more. And never forget what you are.
"Why do you spin so much?" Belle's voice broke the comfortable silence that enveloped me when I worked.
My hands hovered inches from the spinning wheel as I considered her question. Having spent most of the week in the dining room at my spinning when I wasn't seeing clients, I was surprised Belle hadn't asked sooner. I turned slightly, observing her perched high on a ladder near one of the windows; in her blue gown and silver coloured shoes, she could've been an angel. Wickedly, I considered strolling past the ladder for a peek. You're being ridiculous; I forced my eyes back to the wheel; she should have a pair of breeches if she planned to continue clambering up ladders.
"Sorry. It's just - you've spun straw into more gold than you could ever spend." she added hastily, taking my hesitation for irritation.
"I like to watch the wheel – helps me forget." I said simply.
"Forget what?"
The faces of my son, his mother, that rancid pirate - everyone who had ever slighted me, tormented me, flashed before my eyes. "I guess it worked." I lied, my laugh sounding tired and creaky next to Belle's beautiful laugh. I was walking over to her before I realized it and watching as she tugged at the heavy drapes over the window. "What are you doing?"
"Opening (tug) these (tug)." Her foot slipped a little but she steadied herself instantly, still tugging at the curtains. "It's almost spring – we should let some light in." her frustration was apparent but harmless, like an angry kitten. I suppressed a giggle. "What did you do? Nail them down?"
"Yeah." what did she think I'd done to them? This was the Dark Castle.
With one last tug, the drapes came free, ripping entirely away from the rod and Belle was airborne with them; without thinking, I stepped over to intercept her and then she was in my arms, the fear in her eyes replaced with relief. Awkward. Bright afternoon light streamed through the window, it burned my eyes.
"Thank you." Belle gave me a small smile, reminding me that I still held her. I set her down quickly, almost dropping her, as though she had burned me.
Maybe she had. "It's no matter."
"I'll, uh, put the curtains back up."
The scent of the lavender soap I'd provided her had filled my nose, a subtle smell that overwhelmed me all the same. My head was swimming. "Ah, there's no need. I'll get used to it." I had to get away from her.
After the evening meal I returned to my spinning, leaving Belle to clear away the dishes. I'm not sure why I bothered, I wasn't interested in food. The whir of the wheel, the pull of the thread and the blurry moment when it became gold glinting in the candlelight. All of it as effortless as breathing and as light as air; it was as good as meditation. My mind drifted and hardly registered when Belle had finally retired for the night. I remained at the wheel for a while longer, enjoying the stillness of the hour. But the thoughts that I had forced away all afternoon began to creep into my fragile peace.
The drapes were still in a heap beneath the naked window, forgotten since their liberator fell from the ladder and into my arms. It had been – so long, since I had touched another person; she may as well have fallen from the sky. Belle hadn't even flinched. It was the opposite of Mil – my wife, who had looked on me with revulsion even before I became – this.
No matter I had said, but the softness of her and that lavender soap, still burned my skin and filled my nose. No matter, indeed.
I sighed and let the gold thread drop; there was work to be done. The candles and fireplace extinguished at my departure. Spinning would be a useless pursuit now that Belle had invaded my thoughts again.
Shivering, I emerged into the chill of the tower workroom and with a flick of my finger, the small hearth blazed to life. The cold did not often bother me but I'd spent several hours in the warmth of the dining room, I wouldn't be able to concentrate if my teeth were chattering.
Forcing myself to focus, I set about crushing minerals and filling vials; the more menial tasks of my trade. Alone on the opposite workbench, a small, dull iron cauldron sat above a burner, its contents bubbling merrily away. With precise measurements, I added the new ingredients and watched as the concoction popped and hissed. Nodding with satisfaction, I opened a well-worn tome, and scribbled in my observations, skimming through previous notes; a page smudged with blue powder and the focus was lost, my stomach lurching at the thought of her piercing blue eyes.
Women were damned distracting. The next time I decided this place needed a caretaker, I should just enchant the furniture.
I dropped into the old armchair by the fire and stared at my chicken scratch notes on my lap until they were a blurry jumble.
"Rumpelstiltskin," she whispered, her fingers light upon my shoulder. "You fell asleep."
My eyes flickered open, my caretaker's lithe form blurry in front of me. I felt a ripple of faint annoyance at her presence in my work room. "What are you doing here?" I hissed.
"I heard you cry out from below."
"You do not lie well, girl. You cannot possibly hear anything from down there." my tone sharp but my voice still thick with sleep. Still, she had the decency to look chagrined. Had I cried out? I did not even have the feeling of having had a nightmare. "I had not forbidden you this room but I had hoped you would avoid it all the same."
Belle took a step back when I rose, averting her eyes from my face. Did she fear the monster as she ought to? She made to leave but hesitated; she carefully stepped forward, as though afraid I might strike her. When I didn't move, she brushed her lips against my cheek; a light kiss, petal soft but it sent a jolt through me and my breath hitched in my throat.
"Belle," I managed to whisper, fighting to step away from her, unwilling to tempt fate.
A small smile played up pink lips and I felt myself drawn into her endless blue gaze; my heart constricted and I was a man lost, drowning in the ocean of her eyes. She dared step toward me again, the swish of her simple gown stirring her scent and it filled my nose again; a dull, warm ache, a sensation long absent, began low in my abdomen. With outstretched fingers, Belle caressed my face, unfazed by the strangeness of my skin. She shyly grazed my lips and I was unable to resist kissing her still soft fingertips. Taking my face in her hands, she brought her lips to mine; it was a whisper of a kiss, sweet and chaste, before she started to back away.
Without hesitation I grabbed her by the waist, pulling her tight against me and dipped my head to meet those lips again; long, slow and uncertain at first then building in intensity, her lips parted, letting me in deeper; she moaned softly into my mouth. Her hands were knotted in my hair and mine were everywhere; dragging through her hair, down her back, grabbing her buttocks. When she broke away gasping for air, I fell hungrily on her smooth throat, nipping at her earlobes, chuckling as she squirmed.
"Rumple -" she murmured as I pushed her gently into the chair, her voice made my name sound like music; I sucked on her collarbone, kissed the soft tops of her breasts. "Rumple -" Belle tried again, her voice strained.
"What is it, dearie?" I muttered, distracted by the ties of her bodice, my fingers itching to touch her bare flesh.
"Is something burning?"
My eyes snapped to Belle's flushed face and she flinched. "Burning?" I repeated, momentarily confused, my fingers still on her laces but now idle. Of course something was burning; it was me, burning to a pile of ashes at her dainty feet. I followed her gaze to one of the laden work benches, thick black smoke snaking its way over the edge of the small cauldron. I snapped my fingers and the ruined potion was gone but the offensive odor remained; groaning in defeat, I buried my face in the soft fabric of her gown.
And then I woke up.
The fire burned low and most of the candles had gone out while I slept. Dousing the fire beneath the iron pot, I peeked over the rim to see the scorched remains of the potion I'd spent weeks preparing. I groaned and cursed under my breath as I cleaned up the mess.
Careless, utterly careless, you damned old fool.
It was a setback I did not need. With a wave of my hand the room plunged into total darkness. I moved down the stairs, the night wrapping me like a blanket, soothing my jangled nerves. Recreating what I had carelessly destroyed could wait until morning; I climbed into my rarely used bed, hoping to recapture Belle in my dreams.
It'd been raining for days; dark, cold and dismal. Typically it would have suited my mood but foul weather kept me busy. The towns and villages in the region looked to me, reluctantly, for protection and for aid during emergencies and the spring rains would have turned many of the mountain streams into raging torrents. I kept them from destruction and they kept the overly curious from my lands; a deal of mutual satisfaction.
I had seen little of Belle in that time and after a long night of reinforcing enchantments on levees in the valley, which suited me fine. I had finally returned to my workroom, soggy and in bad temper; I was in no mood for her smiles. Not bothering to change out of the soggy clothes, I set to work recreating the ruined potion. Slam, clank, rattle, jars, pots and vials; I would not mess it up again.
Grind the minerals, chop the herbs, light the fire, and splice the hair. This should not be necessary. Ridiculous. Acrid smoke wafted from the cauldron and the potion began to pop; I hissed as hot liquid spattered my hands.
"Rumpelstiltskin?" her voice startled me and, still off balance from the potion burns, a jar smashed across the table, the glass slicing my hand as I tried to regain my composure. I spun around to find Belle, wide eyed, near the stairs and holding a tea tray. She was beside me, grabbing my wrist before I could chase her off to nurse my wounds in peace.
"I can heal it." I said through gritted teeth.
"With magic." her voice was dull.
"Yes, with magic." I snipped. "How else did you think? Care to discuss that while I have glass sticking out of my palm?"
"All magic comes with a price." Stony faced, Belle pointed to a chair near the fire and grabbed a pair of tweezers she found in a tool box. "Why pay that price needlessly?" I obeyed, a little stunned by this new Belle. Without a word, she gave me a strip of cloth, presumably to bite. Sitting before me, she set to work methodically removing the glass. I directed her to cabinets where she would find the medical supplies required but said nothing else; Belle was absolutely in control.
Once the wound was snugly bandaged with clean linen, she sat back, shy once again.
"You're a healer too, my lady?" I teased though the awe was apparent in my voice.
"I wanted to be useful to my father and our people during the war. I am no good at sitting idle when there is work to be done." she blushed a little, jumping to her feet and retrieving the abandoned tea things. "Your tea is cold."
"Forget the tea." I paced about the room. Gratitude made me uncomfortable, being in debt to another was not how the game worked; I had to repay her somehow. "Come with me." I dashed down the stairs with Belle scrambling after me.
The daylight had fled long before either of us stirred; Belle curled up against me as we took turns reading aloud from an antique volume of fables. She was rapt while I read and was a quick study as she read in the old language with my quiet corrections. She was not the first intellectual noblewoman I had ever met but her passion for the written word had been obvious from the moment we stepped into the library. I regretted not bringing her here weeks ago.
Her head rested on my shoulder, following along as I read and struggled to ignore her proximity. If Belle knew what she did to me, she likely would've chosen a different seat. She had grown quieter, her breathing deeper, steadier and I suspected she had fallen asleep but I kept reading, hardly daring to look until several minutes had passed since the story had ended and Belle had not stirred.
"Belle," I murmured into the top of her head, resisting the impulse to kiss her hair. "Belle, wake up, dearie." My throat constricted, watching her blue eyes flutter open and slowly focus on me; heartbreak blue. I drew a ragged breath. "How can you sleep so peacefully next to a monster?"
"Not a monster." she mumbled sleepily as she sat up. I smiled thinly at that; of course I was a monster and she was foolish to think otherwise.
"It is late. Perhaps you should retire." it was more of a command than a suggestion. I longed to take her in my arms and keep her with me, to lose myself in her forever. Closing my eyes, I suppressed a shudder; no, that could not - should not be. She had me bespelled; had I unknowingly taken in an enchantress? I kept my eyes and hands on the book as she got to her feet, stretching slowly, yawning.
"You are right. Good night, Rumpelstiltskin." a shy curtsy and she was gone, footsteps fading fast in the dark corridor.
I let out the breath I'd apparently been holding, slumping over across Belle's vacated place on the sofa. The bandage she had tied around the cut had loosened and I tightened it awkwardly, smiling in spite of myself at the memory of her gentle ministrations. Oh - this was bad, I growled with frustration, burying my face into what I thought had been a dusty pillow but turned out to be Belle's shawl. Lavender burned my nose again and desire scorched through me, leaving the dull ache and ashes of longing in its wake. Not helping.
You could just go to her, the monster whispered. You are the Dark One, take what you want. No. Never. There are depths that even I would not sink to. I lay there a long time, gazing into the dwindling fire, eventually calming down by mentally reciting names of alchemical elements over and over.
"Antimony.. Arsenic..Bism- Belle?" and she was crouched before me, angelic in her simple white chemise and lips quirked into a smile.
"I left my shawl." she explained, tugging gently on the fabric beneath my head. Sitting up, I took the shawl and wrapped it snugly around her shoulders while gesturing that she should sit. "Thank you." she was suddenly shy, lowering her gaze. The longing I had managed to quell bubbled up again and without thinking, I cupped a hand to her cheek, running my thumb over her smooth skin. I watched her draw a shallow breath as she lifted those stunning eyes to meet mine. A crazy thought struck me: Belle longed for me too. I drew her close, hesitant but she smiled and closed the distance with a shy kiss.
Her smile was infectious and I found that I smiled too as I left a trail of kisses across her jaw and dragged my lips across her lovely throat.
"Aren't you cold, dearie?" I gently tugged at the ribbon at the collar of her chemise.
"I have you to keep me warm." Belle buried her fingers in my hair, held my head to her breast.
"Belle." I breathed, overwhelmed and unable to say anything more before desire took over. Soft moans, lips, hands, fingers – everywhere. The room had become unbearably hot; with a simple thought, the stiff, heavy fabric of vest and jacket vanished but Belle's hands were still searing hot through the silk of my shirt. She fell easily back onto the sofa at my urging, shuddering when my hands slipped under her clothes, grazing the silken skin of her inner thighs.
Somewhere in my mind, the logical part of me sat utterly dumbfounded as a baser instinct finally overruled it. Belle beckoned me and I eagerly obeyed, looming over her; chestnut hair spilled across the pillow and the blue of her eyes had darkened with desire.
Exactly when I had gone from pressing myself against her to prone on the floor, all alone in the dark library, I didn't know. But I was awake and the angel was gone; panting from such an intense dream with her shawl clutched to my chest.
What is wrong with you, the monster sneered.
Good question; what was wrong?
The answer came as a pang in my chest; sweet pain, long absent and it was frightening.
"I love her." I whispered into the darkness, afraid that someone might hear. I loved her and for the first time in centuries, I didn't know what to do.
I found my answer two days later after Belle had brought the afternoon tea into the dining room. The fluttering in my stomach when she was near and the way she looked at me; pure innocence and sincerity when she asked if could at least know me since I was the only person she'd know for the rest of her life. It was all too much and I was losing sight of the big picture. Reaching the land without magic and finding my son; there was no time for sweet nothings and smiles.
Her former fiancé, that big oaf, thought he could just storm in here with weapon drawn and rescue his princess, but I nipped that in the bud. Did he forget who he was dealing with? With a smooth lie about an old woman selling flowers, I presented the former Sir Gaston, now a lovely rose, to his lady.
"Why thank you." She curtseyed with a smile and I dropped into a chair, watching as Belle wandered about for a pair of scissors, searching for a vase.
"You had a life, Belle. Before -this. Friends. Family. What made you choose to come here with me?" I should have stayed quiet but curiosity had always been a downfall of mine.
Belle's voice drifted from the cupboard she was rummaging in. "Heroism. Sacrifice. You know, there aren't a lot of opportunities for women in this land to - to show what they can do. To see the world, to be heroes." She came over to the table with the simple vase she had found and with a snip, cut the bottom quarter of the rose stem off.
I wondered what that would do to Gaston if I ever decided to turn him back. I forced my attention back to Belle, who had perched upon the table again.
"So, when you arrived, that was my chance. I always wanted to be brave. I figured, do the brave thing, and bravery would follow."
"And is it everything you hoped?"
"Well, uh - I did want to see the world. That part didn't really work out. But, I did save my village."
How she could justify coming away with the Dark One, the Spinner, to save the lives of others, I still could not understand even though she had just explained it. Her selflessness was a rare thing in any race but especially in humans.
"And what about your betrothed?" I ventured, glancing at the rose in the center of the table.
Belle smiled softly and shook her head. "It was an arranged marriage. Honestly, I never really cared much for Gaston." She leaned in, her voice lower, earnest. "You know, to me, love is - love is layered. Love is a - a mystery to be uncovered."
I almost choked; could she be talking about us? The monster scoffed. There was no 'us', the girl had to go.
"I could never truly give my heart to someone as superficial as he. But, um, you were going to tell me about your son."
My son? There was nothing left to tell; I lost him. I lost him and I lost his mother. Cowardice and murder were minor details that I needn't trouble Belle with. That vibrant, inquisitive princess should never have had to come here. She belonged to the world and I lived outside of it.
"I'll tell you what; I'll make you a deal. Go into town and fetch me some straw. When you return, I'll share my tale." There, she was free; my reputation was ruined.
"Town?" she stammered. "You trust me to come back?"
"Oh no." I couldn't keep the sadness from my voice. "I expect I shall never see you again."
Now we were both free.
When Belle had gone, equipped with cloak and basket, I was overwhelmed with relief and not a little bit of grief. Certain that I would find the basket abandoned by the gate tomorrow; I all but skipped to the tower workroom and spent the next several hours in a pleasant haze of potions and compiling notes that had been neglected. For the first time in weeks, I felt at ease in my own skin; as much as I ever had anyway.
But once the sun had set, I began hovering in the windows, watching the empty road leading to the castle, looking for Belle. Had I been wrong to send her into the forest alone? What if she lost her way or met with bandits? No, there were no bandits in those woods, not in my forest. She would be quite safe.
I hoped.
The moon shone high over the fields and trees when I spied a lone, girlish figure travelling the road to the castle. It was Belle with a spring in her step and a basket full of straw on her arm. My heart, whatever was left of it, jumped out of my chest and I all but tumbled down the several flights of stairs to my wheel in the dining room. Foolish or not, I couldn't be disappointed that she had returned.
At the wheel barely five minutes before the doors swung open and admitted Belle, I tried to calm my wildly thumping heart. Be Nonchalant, I coached myself.
"Oh, you're back already. Good - good thing. I'm nearly out of straw." There, that was an excellent start.
"Admit it, you're happy I'm back." She leaned over to leave the basket next to the dais, smiling that light-up-the-world smile, filling my world with that lavender again.
"I'm not unhappy." It was hard to lie to her sometimes.
"And you." Her hands were light and warm upon my shoulders. "Promised me a story."
"Did I?" I asked, feigning ignorance but she settled herself close to the spinning wheel, close to me.
"Mmhm." There was that damned smile again. "Tell me about your son."
No you persistent girl, I will not tell you about my son. "I lost him. There's nothing more to tell, really." Oh gods, her hand was on my knee. Was that really necessary?
"And since then, you've loved no one. And no one has loved you."
I loved her but like hell would I admit it. "Why did you come back?" I whispered, leaning in and looking into eyes brimming with sincerity and something else. Love? Nonsense, I was a monster. Angels could not love monsters.
"I wasn't going to." She admitted, glancing down a moment. "But then – something changed my mind."
Close, closer, too close and then her lips are upon mine, the sweetness of the kiss was everything I had been dreaming of, and more. It would be so easy to draw her onto my lap, to kiss her forever. Did I dare hope - ? The magic that was ever present, rippled, roiled across my skin, almost angry.
"What – what's happening?" patches of human coloured flesh appeared on my hands; what the hell was going on?
"Kiss me again, it's working!" Belle cried with her hands on the sides of my face.
I frowned a little, still feeling like I was being turned inside out, like the night I killed Zoso and took the power. "What is?"
"Any curse can be broken!"
I stood up so quickly that the stool tumbled backwards off the dais. Any curse? Who knew that? I didn't want the curse to break, I needed it. Certainly I had thought of true love's kiss as something to be avoided. True love with Belle; isn't that what I had been longing for? No. It could not be, should not be; I needed power.
"Who told you that? Who knows that?" I already knew the answer, feared to hear it from Belle's lips.
"I-I don't know. She- .. she.." Belle's happiness had crumbled in the face of my building rage; frozen next to the wheel, her hands trembling.
"She." my stomach dropped, threatening to expel the tea I'd had earlier. I should have known it was Regina; ripping the cover from the dressing mirror, I hoped that witch was watching. "You. Evil. Soul. This was you - you turned her against me!" something inside me began to break; maybe it was my heart. "You think you can make me weak? You think you can defeat me?!"
"Who are you talking to?" Belle had found her voice again and her courage.
As if she didn't know. How could she not have known?! I spun around, advanced on the shaking girl still standing her ground. "The Queen. Your friend, the Queen! How did she get to you?
"The-the Queen? I don't-" she stammered. I willed her to stop pretending that she didn't know. It had all been too good to be true, a trick.
"I knew this was a trick. I knew you could never care for me." Shattered. How had I let her under my skin so deeply? The help, a payment; don't fall in love with the collateral. "Oh, yeah! You're working for her." I'd lost it and there was no more I could do to reign in the monster. "Or is this all you? Is this you being the hero and killing the beast?"
"It was working-" Belle protested.
I had to give her credit for her bravery or stupidity; I know I would've run from me by now. But the monster had had enough. "Shut up!"
"This means it's true love!"
True love, the monster sneered. Enough, stupid girl. You betrayed me, now face the consequences. "Shut the hell up!"
"Why won't you believe me?" tears stung her summer ocean eyes.
Please don't cry, Belle, I couldn't handle that.
Grabbing her by the shoulders, roughly shaking, screaming in her face. "Because no one – no one – could ever, ever love me!"
Hurting the only woman who ever had loved me, I dragged her down two flights of stairs and flung her into a cell. The man inside me wept as the monster triumphed.
When I woke the next morning the sun was already climbing through the pale spring sky. My head pounded and if I had human eyes still they would have been bloodshot; if I had been a drinker, this would have been a hangover.
I stumbled down to the dining room, hoping that Belle would have the tea ready but the great room was deserted, the fire was out and no tea service in sight. The glass of the display case lay shattered on the floor along with chunks of the wood frame and the powdery remains of the bone china tea set I preferred to use.
Then I remembered that Belle was locked in the dungeon and afterwards I rampaged through the castle. Drawing a shaky breath, I picked up one of the remaining cups; the chipped one that had become my favourite after Belle had dropped it. I tucked it back upon one of the shelves. The mess could wait until later.
I wished last night had never happened and I would have traded a great deal for the ability to turn back the clock. Mostly, I wished that Belle had never come back. The kiss had been unavoidable; she would have tried another time if not last night. It would have been best if she had never returned.
Could either of us forget what happened last night? Could Belle forgive me?
Could I forgive myself?
Pausing at the top of the stairs that led to the dungeon, I sighed, leaning against the cold stone of the wall. It was not safe for her to stay, for either of us. Digging deep for the resolve to do what I thought was right, I descended into the musty lower level.
Belle eyed me warily from her seat on the stone bench. A tray of tea and biscuits sat untouched near her feet; when did I send those down?
"So, what are you going to do to me?"
Deep breath and don't let her see that you're hurt. Turn it around on her, make her think the 'something there' was all in her head. Silly women, finding love where there wasn't any.
"Go." Pointing to the open door, I stared at Belle, unseeing. If I let myself see her, I would lose my nerve.
"Go?" she repeated incredulously.
"I don't want you anymore, dearie." I lied. Of course I still wanted her; all I wanted to do was to fling myself at her feet and kiss the hem of her skirts, begging for forgiveness. But I couldn't do that. Don't be a coward, Rumpelstiltskin, the monster hissed. Belle looked stung but she lifted her chin and strode out of the cell. That had been easier than I thought. She was in front of me again, her face set with purpose.
"You were freeing yourself. You could've had happiness if you'd just believed that someone could want you. But you couldn't take that chance."
Don't look into her eyes. It's all over if you look into her eyes. "That's a lie."
Belle stepped closer, all but getting into my face. "You're a coward, Rumpelstiltskin. And no matter how thick you make your skin, that doesn't change."
Keep your eyes on the prize, Rumpelstiltskin. Finding your son is all that matters; this girl does not matter, never did and never will. I wondered if I would ever believe that.
"I'm not a coward, dearie. It's quite simple, really. My power means more to me than you."
"No. No, it doesn't. You just don't think I can love you." Belle's voice cracked with emotion. "Now, you've made your choice. And you're going to regret it – forever. And all you'll have is an empty heart – and a chipped cup."
And then she was gone before I could retort or any tears could fall.
I stood in the empty cell until the scent of lavender had evaporated and by then I had convinced myself that I'd rid myself of a terrible malady.
Love. True love. I didn't need it nor did I want it. What had Regina always raged on about; love is a weakness. I knew that she was wrong; true love was the most powerful magic in all the realms.
Climbing the stairs to the workroom, I set my mind on the tasks at hand. Belle was gone and with her would go all the distractions. The potion wheezed a cloud of blue smoke from the crushed lapis lazuli I added and then settled back to its proper self. Ages of planning were so close to fruition and when the end came, there would be no one to remember one another anyway; I could live with that hole in my heart.