Emma was usually not a difficult child. She tended to explore the world through her mouth- she seemed to have a thing for Belle's conditioner since she love to stuff as much of the woman's hair in her mouth as possible- and was quite fond of running out of rooms she was supposed to be in but besides that she was well-behaved and had a happy temper. But that particular night Emma was fighting off an ear infection and wailing, as if screaming would make the hurt go away. David and Mary Margaret were on an impromptu second honeymoon for their anniversary and so Belle was stuck with their vocal little toddler.
Though single herself Belle had more than a bit of experience with children, from her early days as a nanny to the many kid-oriented events she organized as the local librarian. She'd made sure to get Emma some medicine and press warm towels against her ears, the heat helping dull the ache. After a while Emma has calmed down somewhat but she was still fidgety and ready to put her lungs to good use should the situation require it.
In an effort to calm her down further Belle had gotten them both settled on a rocking chair and had fished out of her purse a copy of "The Labyrinth", her favourite book. It'd been a late find in life, the old, slim tome carelessly tossed into a crate housing travel books in the library. She'd restored it lovingly after devouring it in one night. It was a thrilling story about an imp-like creature called "the Dark One" who liked to snatch children from the undeserving hands of careless mothers. Though the book was written with the clear intention of sympathising with the heroine who wished away one of her children to provide the other with food and comfort, Belle couldn't help but find the villain more fascinating. Described as eccentric, hideous and cruel he was mostly a flighty trickster who found amusement in other people's misery. But sometimes he did or thought something that didn't fit into that image, that pointed at hidden depths and an old, sad soul.
The end was a spectacular showdown in which the heroine, by virtue of an encounter with a suspicious old lady, learned the imp's name and through that knowledge managed to break the contract between her and the imp. Jubilant she was returned to her poor little farm while the imp was left to sulk. The librarian didn't much think the imp minded not getting the child- though he did seem to mind his name being given away by meddling old women- and the happy ending felt flat and hollow. There was no mention of what life lay ahead of a lonely woman with two children to feed and care for and no means of income or support. Belle thought it sadly likely that they'd starved.
Emma loved the story, but the ear ache interfered with her enjoyment of it. A new wave of tears and wailing ensued till the child was almost blue in the face and Belle's blouse was soaking wet with her tears.
"I'm sorry, Emma, I'm so sorry. I wish I could make the pain go away." She kissed the child's forehead, noticing it felt warm. Probably feverish. "I wish I could just call the Dark One to take you away only so that he could cure you right now."
She felt silly for suddenly holding her breath and looking around. Of course there was no Dark One threatening to take the girl away. She was too old to believe in such nonsense in any case.
"Quite a set of lungs on this one, dearie."
The high-pitched, accented voice took Belle by surprise, almost causing her to drop the toddler she was holding. She turned her head to see an odd man lounging on David and Mary Margaret's bed, noticing first that he had no qualms about keeping his boots on and dirtying up the bedspread. Her eyes travelled up his calves- those boots were rather sinful- and past his knees, realizing the stranger was wearing leather pants. He'd never seen anyone outside of her friend Ruby wear those, especially so skin-tight. Some sort of textured vest covered his torso, a deep V showing off his green-gold chest. If there was a shirt beneath that it was barely visible. A heavy-looking coat completed the ensemble, with a high collar and a snake-like texture.
"Who... who are you?"
Belle was quite proud of the fact that she'd managed to say "who" and not "what".
The stranger tut-tutted in a chiding manner. His movements had flair, as if he were a performer in front of a crowd. His eyes, she noticed, weren't quite human, the pupils bigger and... gold.
"So impolite. Not even a greeting. Did you parents raise your right?"
"I find barging into people's homes unannounced and uninvited to be a bigger breach of manners."
It felt like a dream so Belle didn't panic at first. Though inhuman the newcomer was also fascinating and didn't seem to pose an immediate threat. He was still casually propped up on the bed's head-board, his hands flitting across the objects on Mary Margaret's night-table but not quite touching anything. His eyes were riveted on her, sometimes dropping to regard the hiccupping child cuddling close to her breast.
"Touché. Though I hope you'll excuse me if my modest entrance was a bit of a let-down. Though I'm rather fond of theatrics I must admit the bed looked really soft and comfy and it was tempting to just rest for a bit."
Emma buried her face against Belle's chest, clearly upset by the stranger. Belle herself felt torn between the first wisps of fear and dread and a heady, intoxicating sort of... fascination. The stranger looked otherworldly and mysterious, his flamboyance and off-kilter quips alluring when she knew she should've found them off-putting. And there was also something incredibly familiar about him, as if she knew him inside out and has just forgotten him.
"I don't mind you resting but Mary Margaret will very much mind the mud stains on her brand new comforter."
He gave her a brilliant smile, all rotten teeth and dark promises and Belle found out it was possible to be afraid, amused and aroused at the same time. Emma clutched her closer and, on instinct, she clutched back.
"I'll wager she'll have bigger problems to occupy her pretty little mind, dearie. Now hand over the child and I'll take myself and my filthy boots away."
He gestured with his arms for her to give him the child and it dawned on Belle then what should've been obvious from the start.
"You're the Dark One."
He seemed to be bursting with malicious glee as he watched panic spread across her face.
"Right you are, dearie. Now be a good girl and fulfil your end of the bargain."
She stood up, Emma safely in her arms and walked towards the French windows, the furthest point in the room from the bed.
"No."
He seemed to be expecting such and answer.
"Now, now, dearie, this does not need to get nasty. You unwittingly and foolishly entered into an oral contract. I came swiftly and kept to my obligation. Though the little one is currently scared out of her mind she's no longer suffering from an ear infection. Now be a good girl and hand her over."
He'd gotten up halfway through his little speech and was advancing towards her, a quiet menace lurking in the way he prowled. Though he wasn't tall at all he was still taller than her, heels and all.
"No. You're not taking her. You have no right to."
The imp seemed to lose a bit of his playfulness upon her second refusal, impatience seeping into his expression and giving it a more dangerous appearance.
"Come again, dearie?"
"First of all oral contracts in Maine cannot be enforced if the agreement is missing essential terms or is otherwise too vague or indefinite as to the nature and the extent of the parties' obligations. There is no specification as to what 'take away' means, nor is the time-frame in which the child is to be away specified." She watched as the imp's jaw fell practically to the floor, his eyes widening as she talked. "There's also the fact that she is not my child and therefore I have no right to forfeit parental rights to you. Besides 'Dark One' is not your rightful legal name so you cannot use it to enter into any sort of agreement, be it oral or written."
It was everything she'd always wanted to tell the Dark One in the book. As a deal-maker he made sure to always use his insight into the art of contract-making and magic to get anything he wanted out of people, but no one seemed to wise up enough to learn to use that same weapon against him. She imagined he rather liked knowing that sometimes people agreed to things they were not bound to.
"A strange, inhuman man magically appears in your bedroom and you think all you need to do to get rid of him is to dazzle him with a bit of contractual law?"
He appeared incredulous and a bit offended, but also intrigued. Belle assumed this had never happened to him before. Judging by the fact he hadn't simply snatched Emma out of her arms and disappeared she judged she'd been right.
"You can't take what is not yours, that's not how magic works. And taking into account I still have Emma with me I'm sure I'm right."
He opened and closed his mouth several times, his frustration increasing by the second. Knowing that the child was safe and wouldn't be taken banished most of the librarian's fear, letting the gnawing curiosity get the best of her. It wasn't often that she discovered a fantasy story was actually real, much less her favourite one. The Dark One was just as she had imagined him, from the clothes to the wild hair and curious, scaly skin. She felt the sudden and rather inappropriate urge to touch it and see how it felt. The open collar of his vest left quite a bit of his chest exposed to her gaze and she blushed when she realized her eyes kept drifting to it.
"We can make a new deal, if you found the other one unsatisfying. I could give you riches, power, anything you could ever wish for. Surely the child will seem like a just payment in exchange for your dreams. And no one would need to know, dearie. I could make them all forget, even you. It'd be as if the child... never existed."
She hated the way her mind zeroed in on her innermost desires. To see the world, to have adventures and freedom and be away from the small little town she'd grown up in and the fumbling father who needed constant care and attention. Those fantasies were pernicious enough when she had no means to achieve them, but they were a thousand time worse when they were dangled right in front of her, ripe for the taking. Emma squirmed in her arms, warm, wet and smelling of baby shampoo and that snapped her right out of her daydream.
"No. Thank you for the offer but I'll have to pass."
He tilted his head to the side and narrowed his eyes, as if trying to figure her out. She took an involuntary step backwards when he suddenly advanced on her again, disregarding personal space as he leaned close, placing a finger beneath her chin and tipping her face up so he could stare into her eyes. For a moment she felt bare, exposed both in body and mind. A second later the feeling was gone and he was stepping back, still looking puzzled and a bit... reverent.
"What's your name, poppet?"
She had no obligation to answer, she knew that. Besides that names had power and to give a being such as he over over her seemed like a really bad idea.
"Belle."
It was barely an exhale but he caught it all the same, smiling once more. Though she knew she should be frightened she wasn't; thrilled and breathless for sure, but not frightened.
"What a lovely name. See you around, Belle."
The next second he was gone. It took a few minutes for Belle to realize Emma remained cured.