Temptation did not often come to Belle. She had perfectly followed every rule put into place by her new master, down to never leaving the castle in which he had taken her and obeying every demand he had imposed upon her. She never complained. For one, she had embraced her imprisonment to spare her family and subjects—it wasn't as if she had been forcibly removed from her previous life. Then there was the fact that she found some odd pleasure in caring for others, even if they were prickly and fierce.
She had felt no temptation at all to leave since she had first arrived at Rumplestiltskin's castle until the end of December came. A plan had come to her weeks before, and the time seemed ripe when her master entered the great hall where Belle stood on a ladder, dusting some of the collectables in his display cabinet.
"I am leaving for a couple of days. While I am gone you are to care for the castle as usual. If you have an emergency, use this to contact me," Rumplestiltskin quipped as he pulled an old, silver mirror from the inside of his vest. "I'm sure I don't have to remind you that this is only in the case of a dire emergency. Otherwise I don't want to be bothered."
"Of course," Belle replied cheerily. She had long since gotten used to the slight mockery in her master's voice.
Rumplestiltskin turned to leave the room. Belle felt a momentary surge of panic until she resolved to plunge forward. "Wait!"
He paused, his head tilted to the side so that she could see his profile.
"I—I was wondering if I could decorate the castle a bit, since Christmas is coming."
Rumplestiltskin stood silent for a moment. Belle wondered if he was going to turn one of his cold gazes upon her but, much to her surprise, he shrugged slightly.
"If you like."
And with that, he was gone. Heart racing in her chest, Belle quickly finished off her daily chores before hurrying up the grand staircase towards her bedroom. She pulled off her dirty dress and tossed it in her hamper, then opened the closet which held her few good ones. Rumplestiltskin had given her one every now and again for no real reason other than he seemed to like variety, and they were really quite pretty. Her hand hovered over them for a second before she grabbed a pale yellow one from the hanger, and then pulled a clean white apron on overtop. She quickly brushed through her chestnut brown hair and tied it back with a white ribbon, then finally pulled on her sapphire blue cloak.
She ran downstairs and set her mirror on the table while she grabbed one of her baskets from the storage closet and filled her coin purse with some of the emergency funds Rumplestiltskin had given her before turning towards the front doors.
Then, hands trembling, she pulled them open.
A blast of icy air struck her in the face, sending goose bumps racing across her skin. She pulled the hood over her head and bent her face low to block the wind. She knew that if Rumplestiltskin found out she had left the castle he would be furious with her, but she couldn't resist the desire to see the village bedecked in Christmas decorations. The inside of the castle never changed save for new items occasionally brought in by her master, and the thought of celebrating families and bauble-covered trees spurred Belle on through the biting air and down towards the village.
People were everywhere, crowds of them busy buying food supplies and gifts for their loved ones. Many of them were laughing, some were even singing Christmas carols, and Belle felt her heart swell with joy at the sight of so many, happy people. A group of children by the cobbler's house were having a snowball fight. One of them, a young boy no more than ten, threw one at Belle's feet. Smiling, she knelt down and scooped some into her hands, then chucked it right at the boy's legs before hurrying further down the lane so as not to be hit by any more rogue snow.
Every now and then Belle stopped to look at items on display in the various stalls. She bought a few decorations for the great room in where they spent most of their time, and then paused to admire a small collection of crystal figurines. One of them, an intricately carved spinning wheel, caught her eye.
"How much is this one?" she inquired to the woman behind the stall, a gnarled old woman with quite a few missing teeth but kind eyes.
"Five gold pieces, that one is."
Belle felt her heart sink. She knew if she purchased it, she would be cutting the budget fine if she wanted to get the biggest decoration. Then she thought of Rumplestiltskin and pulled the trinket towards her chest, digging into the little coin purse and then handing the gold over to the woman.
"Thank you, and merry Christmas!" the old woman cried as Belle walked down the road, wrapping the crystal carefully in the cloth the shopkeeper had given her and placing it in her front pocket.
After a few minutes, Belle found what she was looking for. A roped off area of the village was dedicated solely to displaying fir trees of all sizes. She walked amongst them, inhaling the aromatic scent of the fir needles and awash with homesickness. It wasn't long before she found the largest one on the lot, which stood a good eighteen feet tall. Smiling broadly, Belle approached a tall, thin man who was watching her from across the pen.
"Hello, sir. How much for that big tree over there?"
"For you, pretty lady? I'll give you that one for nine gold pieces."
Belle's face fell slightly. The man must have noticed it, because he grinned down at her and spoke again before she could even open her mouth.
"I'll tell you what, miss. How about you tell me how much you have and I'll see what I can do."
"I only have seven gold pieces left. Which tree can I get for that?"
He stared at her for a few, long seconds in which Belle felt a slight prickle of unease. Then his lips thinned in a way that was more of a leer than a true smile.
"You can have the big one for seven gold pieces, I think. Do you need me to take it to your home?"
"Oh—no, really, you don't have to worry about that I can have someone come for it—"
"Where do you live?"
"Up in the castle."
The man's eyes widened for a moment, and his bushy black mustache twitched.
"The castle? Up where that mystic lives? You his girl?"
"I take care of the castle," Belle said, somewhat defensively.
"I see, I see… well I'll give you a ride up there, no charge. Let me just get everything ready."
Disquieted but not wanting to appear rude, Belle handed over the gold and watched him wrap the tree in a giant net, then hoist it onto a wagon that he then fastened to two horses. Belle watched him work until he had pulled himself up into the front of the wagon, then patted the seat next to him. Belle complied, but made a point of sitting as close to the edge of the seat away from him as she could.
They rode out of the village and up the path that led to the castle. Belle was astounded that a journey that had felt no more than a few minutes during the onset could seem an eternity on the way back. The man said nothing further to her and Belle kept her gaze firmly forward, but in her peripheral vision she could see him turning to watch her every now and then. Finally the castle appeared before them, and Belle felt a rush of affection for the place.
When the cart pulled up to the front of the castle, Belle immediately jumped out of the wagon and hurried to unlock the front door; the man was already heaving the tree out of the back of the wagon.
"Where's your boss want it?"
"He's not here, but I think it—"
She froze. The man's expression had changed completely, and Belle realized the mistake she had just made.
"I think you can just leave it right here in the foyer. He will be back any second now and can take care of it himself."
"Certainly."
The man made as if drag it over the threshold and set it on the ground, then in one quick movement he had swung it around and sent Belle crashing into the stone wall. The wind knocked out of her, a sudden, horrific pain making her head swim, Belle struggled to fill her lungs with air. In an instant there was a crushing weight on top of her, a rancid breath in her nostrils.
"Your master, that Rumplestiltskin," the man sneered his name with revulsion, "happened to give me a bad deal last year. My wife died because of him."
"Get—off—" Belle gasped, her lungs still struggling to find relief, but the man had grabbed her legs and slid her towards him. His calloused hands gripped her dress and ripped it apart. She felt the cold air on her skin and realized she was in nothing but her underthings.
"Now as I see it, there is only one way to get him back for ruining my life. He's too powerful to kill, but I can sure as hell destroy what belongs to him and he never need know it was me who did it."
And then his fingers were clutching her underclothes and ripping them off, too. Belle screamed and thrashed, struggling to beat him off of her but he seemed impervious to her punches and scratches. She saw him reaching down towards his belt, felt his grip on her slacken as he focused on undoing his pants, and she seized her advantage.
In an instant she had grabbed the bulge between his legs and, blocking the revulsion at its hardness from her mind, dug her nails into it and twisted as hard as she could, squeezing and yanking with every ounce of strength she possessed.
At once the man shrieked in agony and loosened his grip, giving Belle a moment's freedom to pull away and search for something with which to defend herself. Her eyes fell upon the silver mirror Rumpelstiltskin had left for her—she'd forgotten it on the small table underneath the grand staircase before leaving for town. Behind her she could hear the man stirring, gasping in pain as he scrambled to his feet and was rushing towards her when, instinct overpowering thought, she slammed the mirror into the corner of the table. A ripple of power emanated from the shards of glass and sent them both flying backwards. She scrambled to her knees, not caring that the shards were slicing open her bare skin, and found the biggest shard she could. Immediately she jumped up and held it aloft, her chest heaving with adrenaline.
"Get out."
The man froze, eyeing the shard of glass beadily. He made a step towards her.
"I will kill you if you place another hand on me. Now get out!"
His eyes narrowed down at her. He looked ridiculous standing there, his pants undone so that his manhood poked out of it and his mustache clotted with blood from the punches she'd thrown at him. Her eyes remained fastened on his; she was shivering with rage and fear.
Then, silently, the man turned and fled. Belle hurried after him and slammed the doors shut, bolting them. Once again safe, she slid to the ground and pulled her knees to her chest, allowing the tears to fall. After a couple of minutes of allowing herself to break down, she pulled herself to her feet and slid on the shredded dress. There were blood stains on it from the grapple and it barely concealed anything anymore, but she felt naked and vulnerable with no clothes on. She walked to the storage closet and found the broom and dustbin. She had just begun to sweep up the glass shards when a form materialized in the middle of the great hall.
Belle froze in horror, staring at Rumplestiltskin. She watched his eyes roam over her figure, taking in the bloody, tattered clothes and wounds covering her body. Then she saw them take in the devastation in the hall, from the shattered mirror to the blood smears on the marble floor and the remains of many of his priceless objects that had been smashed when the mirror's power had broken. Finally they noticed the giant fir tree thrown carelessly on the ground along with all of the Christmas decorations that had fallen out of her basket. Then his golden, inhuman eyes focused on hers. She felt rage emanating from him and quailed against the wall, clutching the broom to her stomach.
"I'm—I'm so sorry, sir. I—"
"What happened here?"
"I—"
"Did you leave this castle, Belle?"
His normal, melodic voice was suddenly feral.
"I… yes, I went to the village to get Christmas decorations. I'm sorry," she whispered, lowering her eyes to shield the tears from view. One slid a hot trail down her cheek, betraying her.
"What happened here?" he repeated.
"The man selling Christmas trees, he…" Belle paused, burning with humiliation at her own stupidity. "He insisted on giving me a ride back here. Then he turned on me. He said you'd given him a bad deal and—and he'd destroy something of yours."
Rumplestiltskin's facial muscles were twitching; he looked demented with suppressed rage.
"I'm so sorry, I just wanted to surprise you with a festive Christmas—"
"Are you hurt?"
"I… what?"
"Are you hurt?" he repeated, his teeth bared. "You're bleeding and that dress is falling off of you."
"He… no," Belle whispered, lowering her eyes to the ground. "I scared him off."
Rumplestiltskin stood there for a moment, looking more inhuman that she had ever seen him as his fingers flexed by his side. Then, abruptly, he began to shake and disappeared completely, his howl of rage disappearing with him.
Terrified she would be punished upon his return, Belle hurried about cleaning up the mess. The rage on his face as he'd gazed upon her was unbearable. Normally he smiled mischievously at her, cracking little jokes for her enjoyment. She had crossed a line by leaving she knew and, even worse, she realized many of his valuable objects on display had been smashed during the attack.
She had just swept up the last of the shards of glass on the ground and was preparing to get hot water to mop up the blood on the when her master reappeared before her. To her shock, he wasn't alone. Rumpelstiltskin threw her attacker on the ground before her, and he appeared much bloodier than he had when he'd left not twenty minutes prior.
"Say it!" Rumpelstiltskin bellowed, kicking the man in his side with one of his black boots.
"Burn in hell," the man sputtered, coughing up blood.
Then Belle could only watch, transfixed with horror, as Rumplestiltskin began to beat the man until he was nothing but a bloody mass on the ground. Panting with rage, he stood upright and waved a hand in the air. Belle watched as a purple glow engulfed the man and, when it had subsided, he was wrapped head to toe in leather straps. He then waved his hands in the air and the man was lifted, feet first, and then flung towards the stained glass windows along the top of the grand staircase. Belle heard his scream as they faded away, and knew he had been hurtled over the battlements and into the rocky mountainside hundreds of feet down. Trembling, Belle fell to her knees, hugging herself.
"I'm so sorry I disobeyed, I'm so sorry," she moaned, eyes clenched shut as she expected to find herself meeting the same fate as the man had. Instead she found herself lifted into the air—not forcefully through a window, but gently in a strong pair of arms. She said nothing, stunned into silence, as Rumplestiltskin led her up the stairs and into the great room, where he sat her on the dining table. He pulled off the shredded, bloodied rag that covered her and tossed it aside. Reflexively Belle moved to cover herself from his eyes, but he moved her hands away. So she sat there, completely naked and exposed to this powerful magical being, the only person who existed in her life, and could only watch in mute awe as his hands glowed purple, healing every wound they passed over.
Every fiber of her being was acutely aware of how close he was to her. Embarrassed to be scrutinized naked, Belle kept her eyes focused on anything but his face. She watched as light from the open windows danced across his shimmery, scaly skin. His clothes bore the spicy, musky scent that she had grown to connect to him.
He said nothing to her as he moved his hands over her skin, and after awhile she began to relax. When he had finished he waved his hand lazily and one of the dresses from her closet appeared in it. He held it out to her. She took it and held it up to cover herself, but didn't put it on.
"Why haven't you punished me?"
Rumplestiltskin merely gazed at her. His eyes both frightened and entranced her. They were so very nearly human.
"You have done nothing that deserves punishment, dearie."
"But… but I left the castle. I disobeyed you."
His eyes never left hers. He seemed to be grappling with some internal struggle for a long while. When he finally spoke, his voice was husky.
"I'm just glad you weren't hurt."
Then Rumplestiltskin turned and walked towards his spinning wheel. Belle watched him go, and then knelt down to dig in the apron pocket. Her fingers grasped the cloth holding the crystal spinning wheel. She gripped it and, the dress in her other hand forgotten, ran towards where her master sat, his long, wavy hair hiding his face from view. She held out the bundle to him.
"Merry Christmas, Rumplestiltskin."
At first Belle thought she was being ignored, because his face did not change at all. Then he reached out a long-fingered hand and pulled the package towards him. He gingerly unwrapped it until the crystal wheel was lying open in his palm, glistening in the sunlight. For a minute he said nothing. Then he looked up at Belle, and smiled.
"Thank you, Belle."
The smile he gave her made her heart leap into her throat. A sudden recklessness washed over her and, before she could stop herself, Belle had walked around the spinning wheel, knelt over, and kissed him.
His lips were unresponsive at first and she feared she had angered him. Then they acquiesced and his tongue found hers. She crawled into his lap, aware that the dress was now forgotten on the floor and uncaring of her own nakedness. All that mattered to her was that his lips were on hers, his hands were resting on her hips, and a fire had ignited inside of her.
"I thought he had hurt you," Rumpelstiltskin whispered suddenly. Belle looked into his face and was shocked to see wetness in his eyes, which looked more human than she'd ever seen them. "I thought he'd-"
Belle silenced him with her lips on his. She had no idea where her courage was coming from. All she knew was that time was frozen and she ached for him like she never had anything else.
Without warning Rumplestiltskin had lifted her off the spinning wheel and laid her down on the rug. She felt her hair fall around her face, felt the rough fibers in the rug scraping against her back and shoulders as he knelt in front of her. He stared down at her hungrily and Belle felt a thrill of trepidation as she lay on her back, panting slightly.
"Please," she murmured, resting her hands on her belly and pressing her thighs together to ease the dull ache throbbing between them. She watched, thrilled and terrified, as his hand reached down and began to untie the lacing on his pants. Virginal fear overtook her and she found herself unable to watch where his hand had strayed. A thousand thoughts suddenly raced through her mind: her father, instructing her to remain a maid until her true husband came to her; her priest, telling her stories of scarlet women who used sensuality to ensnare men; her governess, warning her of what can be created in your womb once a man has come to you.
A hand cupped her cheek. Belle opened her eyes, unaware until that moment she had been clenching them shut.
"We don't have to do this, dearie," he whispered in a low, melodic voice.
Belle remembered all of those people were a world away. Who she had now was Rumpelstiltskin and, what was more… she knew she had fallen in love with him, despite his faults. And she knew he cared for her in return, even if it was just in the only way he knew how. She opened her legs a few inches, staring up into his golden eyes.
He lowered himself on top of her. She felt him stiff and hot against her bare belly as he adjusted himself so that one forearm was supporting his weight on the ground, and with the other reached down to guide himself into her.
Overwhelming pain was all Belle could fathom in those first few moments as Rumplestiltskin thrust into her. She refused to cry out, and instead dug her nails into his shoulder blades as she focused on inhaling his scent. After a few minutes the pain ebbed and Belle could feel her body relax, accommodating him as he moved inside of her. She gazed up into his eyes, and was struck by the intimacy she suddenly felt between them. His expression was still hungry and yet somehow tense; she realized he had maintained the same, slow rhythm since the beginning.
"Harder, please," she whispered, embarrassed at the sound of her own hoarse voice. The reservation in Rumplestiltskin's face lessened and he positioned her so that her knees were nearly to his shoulders. He began to pummel her in earnest, and moans of mingled pain and pleasure escaped Belle's throat. They sounded utterly unlike anything she had ever heard, and his grunts and low growls intensified her own lust and erased any thoughts of her former life's propriety from her mind.
She felt his one of his hands press against the top of her opening and begin to rub it in circular motions. The sensation sent waves of pleasure cascading through her body as he continued to thrust faster and harder into her. She felt her body building towards an end, ever tensing, until finally her core exploded around Rumplestiltskin's manhood and against his hand, shuddering and pulsating before finally receding into a contented exhaustion.
Belle had not realized she had arced her back off of the rug until she felt herself collapse against it, gasping for air. She kept her hands against Rumplestiltskin's shoulder blades as she felt his hand finally leave the now-tender flesh between her legs and he pounded harder into her, so deeply that she began to fear she wouldn't be able to take it for much longer. Then she felt his own body shudder under her hands, and a sudden warmth fill her belly. Belle's mouth opened in a silent O at the sensation, savoring the last few, slowing thrusts before he finally pulled himself out of her, and raised himself so that he was sitting on his calves, watching her as he fastened his pants once more.
Following his lead, Belle also sat up, feeling strangely woozy and sore. A dull ache throbbed between her legs, and her insides felt raw and hot. She noticed something warm and liquid-like between her thighs and reached a trembling hand down to run along the length of herself. Pulling it back up, she saw a mixture of blood and another, opaque substance.
Rumplestiltskin stood up and reached a hand down to her. Belle took it and allowed him to pull her to her feet. He then reached down and pulled the forgotten, baby blue dress from by his spinning wheel and handed to her. She pulled it on quickly over her head, watching his face. Was it her imagination, or did he look apprehensive?
"Did I do something wrong?" she asked before she could stop herself.
To her surprise and indignation, Rumplestiltskin threw his head back in laughter. Then he turned his eyes back to her, and they had the old, mischievous gleam in them.
"Not at all, dearie. In fact, you were quite good. Very well practiced, I might say."
Belle threw a book from the dining table towards his face, which with a wave of his hand was changed into a rose, which he grasped and held out to her. She watched him for a moment with narrowed eyes before accepting it.
"You can't always charm me with magic, you know."
"Of course I won't. I now have other ways to charm you."
He waggled his eyebrows playfully and immediately transformed a paper weight with his hand this time, laughing as Belle, blushing, turned away and began to walk towards the doors leading to the stairs.
"Oh come now dearie, you aren't really angry with me are you?"
"No, but there are Christmas decorations downstairs. Are you going to help me or must I drag that tree up here by myself?"
Rumplestiltskin grinned and strode towards her. She grabbed his hand with hers; he did not pull it away but instead looped his fingers with her own.
It was the best gift Belle had ever received.