Author's Notes: I do not own Once Upon A Time. This story was inspired by cookiem1996 on tumblr. Please let me know what you think and happy reading!
Since time began, there had always been a Dark One. A loathsome creature burdened with unspeakable power. Most of the inhabitants of the Enchanted Forest believed that the Dark One only had one weakness, a dagger that controlled the Dark One, condemning him to do the bidding of whoever happened to hold it. This arrangement had its good and bad points, which were mostly bad if you happened to be the Dark One.
This was not the Dark One's only weakness. No, each Dark One was unique and thus had their own unique weakness. One had a phobia of cats, another spiders, one fire. It was rare that this weakness, the last thing linking him or her back to the mortal they used to be was ever discovered and even rarer that it was successfully used.
This Dark One was named Rumplestiltskin and in addition to the dagger, he too had one more weakness.
His floof.
In the centuries he had been the Dark One, his floof- his hair, of course - had become dry and unmanageable, fraught with split ends, driving Rumplestiltskin to distraction. He could hardly plot his evil plans while flyaways taunted him.
No magic would help. No potion would suffice. If it wasn't dry, it was greasy. He even tried bangs, but nothing helped.
No, what he needed was difficult to find in any realm, even ones as full of magic as the ones he visited.
Rumplestiltskin needed a good hairdresser.
Belle was a happy young woman, despite her diminished circumstances. Her family had been a noble one, but her father's debts finally even took them from grace. They had to move to this little town, a quiet village where every day was like the one before.
Belle loved her father and never complained, the one thing that she did miss of her former station was her library. She had taken all that she could on their cart as they left the castle, but that was not enough. Belle had her fill of dignified poverty and sought some sort of work, but the sight of a diminished noble looking for work was more a source of amusement for the villagers than one of pity.
Until she had overheard the baker's wife lamenting her fine, lifeless hair. Belle made her a solution from hot water and a boiled bell pepper that the woman fastidiously applied and soon she had thicker locks.
Belle had learned a great deal from her nanny and her mother's lady's maid about hair. She could do pretty much anything they asked and the villagers soon came to her for counsel, paying for potions and the hair styles Belle created.
Then Belle could do what she really wanted.
Buy books.
One day, Belle awoke to a summons in handsome calligraphy that appeared on her night table.
Belle-
It is said you are the greatest hairdresser in all the land. You will come to the Dark Castle to demonstrate your skills.
The Dark One
Belle fumed. Who was he to send such a summons? Ought she expect payment?
Still, Belle found it made no sense to ignore such a request from the most powerful sorcerer in the realm. So, she put on her cloak and packed up her little basket and took the long path up the mountain to the Dark Castle.
Rumplestiltskin saw the girl coming up the path and let down the wards on the castle to allow her entry. He had the double doors to the Great Hall fly open in hopes of getting a reaction from her.
"Took you long enough, dearie," trilled Rumplestiltskin.
Belle scowled. "You ought to be glad I came at all considering the rudeness of your summons, demanding I be here."
Rumplestiltskin stilled. No one ever spoke to the Dark One in such a tone.
"Then let us begin."
He snapped, a red velvet chair appearing as well as a vanity and a little gilded sink.
Rumplestiltskin sat as Belle removed her cloak and set her basket on the table he'd made her.
Belle walked behind him. She held his head in place as she combed her fingers through his hair.
"What did you do to it?," she asked.
"What did I do?!"
"Have you been in very harsh climates?"
Rumplestiltskin rolled his eyes. "I was in Agrabah, but it's always like this! Except when it's too oily!"
"Hmm," Belle mused, pulling his head back. Rumplestiltskin was suddenly very aware that the back of his head was pressed into her bosom as she inspected. "Well, first things first, I think we'll need a shampoo, just to get everything out. Then a leave-in treatment and then we'll see what we have to work with. Do you have olive oil? And some herbs? I can make the solution myself."
"Of course I do," he snarled as he stepped up. "I suppose you'll want to discuss payment now."
"That seems appropriate," Belle answered.
"What do you want?"
"Well, most of my clients pay me what they can afford. Others trade me in goods like eggs or bread, sometimes cakes-"
"Cakes?," he spat.
"I like to snack when I read."
Suddenly, a ball of gold thread appeared in the Dark One's hand.
"Tell you what, dearie, if you can return the Dark Floof to it's former glory, this is all yours."
Belle nodded. "That seems fair."
Rumplestiltskin relaxed into Belle's touch as she shampooed his hair. Her nimble fingers danced across his scalp and he tried to block thoughts of where else they might be useful.
"You know, most problems are caused by stress," said Belle. "You ought to relax more."
"Relax?"
"Doesn't the Dark One relax?"
He scoffed. "I have contracts to write. Adoptions to arrange. Regina..."
"Who's Regina?"
He rolled his eyes. "Mostly I used to date her mother and I'm trying to steer her down a dark path, but now she's taking it too far."
"How so?"
He sighed. "Oh, the usual. Slaughtering villages, sending children to a house full of candy occupied by a blind witch who eats them."
Belle frowned. "That's terrible."
"I know. I've been trying to explain. 'Regina,' I said, 'there's evil and then there's trying to make a coat out of Dalmatians.'"
Belle gasped. "Who would make a coat out of dogs?!"
"Puppies, mostly. I couldn't even stand that and now I'm stuck with a nearly a hundred of them."
"You have a hundred Dalmatian puppies here?," asked Belle. "I didn't hear them."
"They're in an enchanted room that muffles the sound. My magic feeds them. I go to play with them every so often."
"You could find homes for them."
"I tried, but no one answered my ad."
"What did the ad say?"
"'Free puppy. Come to the Dark Castle. No strings attached.'" He shook his head. "Honestly, all of the idiots in this forest and not one of them fell for that."
Later, Rumplestiltskin let Belle use his lab to make a solution of rosemary and olive oil. She massaged it into his hair and then Belle decided to trim his cuticles because she didn't much like the look of them.
"Do you miss your old life?," Rumplestiltskin asked Belle.
Belle shrugged. "I don't mind hard work, but I do miss not struggling all the time. I'm certain Father and I would be living in the gutter if I hadn't come up with this business."
"And do you like it?"
"Mostly, but books are what makes me happiest."
"What sort of books?"
"Anything, really. I have a few things I dislike, though."
"Such as?"
"Well, like when the heroine falls for someone and thinks he's mysterious but really he's a controlling brute."
Rumplestiltskin groaned. "I hate those..."
"Or where the heroes are too stupid."
"That's too true to life for me," Rumplestiltskin grumbled.
"Oh, do you know what I really hate? Ridiculous love triangles where they come out of nowhere, especially when they're totally inconsistent with what just happened and have no build-up. It's like the author said, 'He's handsome, she's pretty, I'll put them together.'"
Rumplestiltskin rolled his eyes. "Love triangles are a lazy and overused plot device."
Belle smiled. "I think we can take out your leave-in treatment. Then we can see what we have to work with."
The Dark One sat anxiously as Belle took the scissors out. He didn't dare look as she rinsed his hair and began working.
"Okay, have a look," said Belle.
Rumplestiltskin faced the mirror, ready for his fate.
His floof was back. It was glorious and shiny and manageable and full of body.
"I didn't do much with it," said Belle as she carded her fingers through his soft curls. "Just got rid of the split-ends. If you stick with the regimen I outlined, you should only need me for a trim."
Rumplestiltskin's heart sank. That wouldn't do. That could be weeks apart. He enjoyed her conversation, she had returned his floof to its former glory, how could he let her go?
He stepped up out of the chair and turned to look at her.
"What say we make a deal, dearie."
Belle frowned at him. "I thought we already had."
"We did, but now I want a new deal. You see, the Dark Floof needs a great deal of maintenance and you appear to be the only hairdresser in any realm up to the task. What would it take for you to live here forever?"
"Just to do your hair?," Belle asked skeptically.
"Nothing else would be required of you. I could give you anything you desire. I could restore your father to his former position, I could do better. I could make you a queen. Whatever you desire."
She shrugged. "I'm afraid my tastes are not so grand, Rumplestiltskin. All I really desire is to read my books."
Rumplestiltskin paused. Could she be real?
It was then he remembered he was an all-powerful sorcerer and he could give her anything she desired.
"Come with me, dearie."
Belle followed Rumplestiltskin down the hall. As he opened the double doors, she realized it was a library. Every wall was covered in shelves of books and she had to crane her neck to see the very top.
"I have never seen so many books in my life..."
She hurried around to see there were cozy chairs and even a window seat. She turned back to Rumplestiltskin.
"Are you saying this could be mine?"
"If you'd come to stay."
Belle thought about it. On the one hand, he was a powerful sorcerer that no one dared to meddle with. On the other hand, the people who said that were usually idiots anyway.
"Didn't you say you had a room full of puppies? Could I play with them?"
Rumplestiltskin shrugged. "Knock yourself out."
Some would question why a young maiden would sell herself to a dark wizard. Belle realized she was selling herself for a library, plentiful reading time and almost a hundred puppies.
Still, was that really worse than being married to a man her father chose for her and bearing a dozen children? Of the two possibilities, this one seemed to be much more palatable.
"Do they have names?"
"No..."
"Could I... name them?"
"Why not?"
"And the gold you promised me, could it go to my father?"
"Fine."
Belle nodded.
"Then I will stay with you. Forever."