Sadly, I still own nothing. Life'

Rumplestiltskin had not seen his housekeeper since his earlier than expected arrival just after lunch. She had taken one look at him – a quick glance up and down like she was evaluating him – made him a pot of tea and vanished into the kitchen.

So, all in, he was having a gods awful day.

And it had begun so promising as well.

It had been a debt collection day. After all it had been roughly a year and a half since he had struck a deal with some obscure princess and these true ove types were always at it like rabbits (on a few memorable occasions even well before the 'I do's' had been spoken) so he was more than confident in the fact that a bouncing bundle of baby would be ready for him to collect and deliver to a young couple who had done him a service some months before. It was not that he couldn't make it possible for the woman to bear her own child but such magic would cost dearly and even he was not monster enough to demand the price that granting a life would require.

It had not gone well and within a minute of his vanishing from the Dark Castle he had reappeared in a cloud of purple smoke somewhere in the castle grounds, his face still set in a grimace of rage and a snarl distorting his already unique features.

Blood covered him, his silk shirt – no one could ever say that the Dark one did not appear smart when he came to collect a payment – had holes dotting it and more than a few of those holes where worryingly close to his heart.

Holes that were created by diamond tipped and fairy-magic infused arrows. Arrows that could have very well killed him if he hadn't been so quick.

A demonically evil grin had split his face as he ran a clawed finger over a blood soaked sleeve. Not that it was his own blood of course. It was the blood of the fools who had thought to kill the Dark One.

He had paced the garden in irritation.

"Oh no!" he squealed in a mock female voice, bringing his hands to his cheeks in a pantomime of shock and horror, "Don't take my baby. I know I signed her away for my wealth and finery but I don't owe you anything,"

He had kicked viciously at a rock, sending it flying and with a wave of his hand his torn and blood stained clothing had been repaired. There was no sign of what had happened only moments before.

He was once again decent enough to be seen by Belle, he had not wanted to risk scaring her to death by appearing in the castle.

He had stalked through the gardens to the castle his anger bubbling all the while.

Damn fairies! That was the only way they could have known that he was coming – it wasn't like he had sent a calling card ahead of time. And fairies were the only ones who had the particulate flavour of magic that he had tasted on the air. And dwarves where the only craftsmen gifted enough to form the arrow tips.

Very little damage had been done to himself despite the unknown fairies best intentions - and they wouldn't be unknown for long if he had his way – and the holes in his clothing had been the only physical signs of the magic, the small holes created by the heat of the spells being held in the diamonds.

His anger had exploded when he had found himself surrounded by soldiers and in the split second he had to take in his situation he had immediately sensed the foreign magic and the confidence it gave to the men who were wielding the magical weapons. After all a weapon 'blessed' by a 'good' fairy could not possibly fail.

"Fire!"

Arrows had rained down upon him.

The wicked grin split his face as he once again remembered how quickly that confidence had faded form their faces and postures as he had stopped the arrows inches from his body and sent then back at the men who had fired them. The arrows struck hearts and jugulars before he had vanished.

He stormed into the main hall of the castle to find Belle polishing a set of chairs that appeared to have been dragged from one of the many rooms.

She had stopped, looked at him, fetched him the tea and then left again.

And now, several hours later he was sitting at his wheel just staring at the straw in his hand.

Vexing.

That was what the whole day boiled down to.

Having a deal broken was no fun at all and meant more work on his part. There was no way out of it for the princess. She had signed a magical contract. They were binding and unbreakable. And when someone felt willing to give away a child – born or not – just to make life easier for themselves, he never felt inclined to let them out of it.

A noise from the table at his back dragged him from his thoughts and he turned to find Belle setting down a tray filled with cutlery and a covered plate.

She took the items from the tray and placed them in his customary place at the table.

"Dinner is served," she smiled at him and curtseyed.

He walked warily to the table and sat.

With a flourish – that he was sure she had learned from him – she took the silver lid from the plate.

He breathed in deeply and opened his eyes.

Roast beef, gravy, peas and mashed potatoes met his gaze.

His favourite.

How did she-?

He looked up at her in silent surprise and she just shrugged.

"You looked like you needed a treat and this," she pointed at the plate, "Is the only thing you have ever finished completely,"

He felt an uncomfortable lurch in his chest – had those arrows affected him after all.

"Enjoy your dinner,"

He nodded his head.

"I am sure I will dearie," he sang after her as she left the room.

And he did enjoy his dinner, emptying the plate entirely, even if it did take a few minutes for the funniest of lumps to clear from his throat.

Another Tumblr ASK box prompt reply.

:)

s not fair :(