Prologue: The Exchange

A/AN: This randomly popped in my head today, and I have no idea where it's going to go. Prompts are welcome!

Belle was the princess of Avonlea. Her life had consisted of royal balls and lavish tailored gowns until she was abducted. She'd been gathering flowers in the woods when the bandits had put a bag over her head and bound her wrists with twine. They'd shoved her on a boat with many other crying girls. Belle thought she was going to die until she was forced off the ship several days later. They'd stripped away her royal garb and placed revealing linens on her. They'd masked her face with too much rogue, and she found herself standing on an auction block about to sold off like livestock. She held her head high, refusing to show any sign of fear. She refused to cry in front of these vermin. She wouldn't allow them to detect any weakness in her, though her virtue was about to be auctioned off to the highest bidder. Her gut roiled when she heard the auctioneer's cry.

"Chestnut hair and blue eyed virgin for bid! One hundred and fifteen pounds! Let's start the bid at seven hundred," the man on the platform cried.

"Seven hundred!" a middle aged Lord hollered.

"Eight hundred!" a man several rolls back yelled.

"Nine hundred!"

"One thousand!"

"two thousand!"

Her price continued to increase, and she prayed dearly for someone who'd be exceptionally kind to her. She squeezed her eyes shut as her heart began to race. She was afraid to look upon the men who cared nothing for her, simply the pleasure she could bring them.

"Two hundred and fifty thousand!" one bidder resounded over all the others. The lower bidders cursed and hooted in displeasure as her new owner stepped forward. He sported a crooked nose and a silvery mane. In the middle of his chest was a royal crest she'd never seen before. He was slightly attractive but it mattered little about his looks. How he was going to treat her when they were alone was all she could manage to think of.

"Congratulations! You win!" the auctioneer announced. A group of men placed a leather collar around her neck, linked to a leash. The men led her off the stage before handing the leash to her new master. She felt like throwing up as the man with an unreadable expression on his face led her away from the thirsty men. When they were far enough away from the crowd, he unfastened the collar, gently wrapping a warm cloak around her shivering frame.

"Why are you doing this?" she questioned, daring a glance into his deep sable eyes which reminded her of warm whiskey.

"My reasons are my own. Are you able to ride?" he inquired, gesturing towards his horse.

"Yes," she nodded apprehensively. He took her hand and helped her onto his steed. Her breath hitched in her throat as he climbed on behind her. The feeling of him pressed against her backside made her stomach flip flop. No conversation was initiated between them as they rode on into the night. She was startled when they came upon a large castle settled deep within the mountains.

"Is this where you live?" she inquired abruptly.

"Yes, this is my castle," he replied, dismounting the stallion. She felt more steady when her feet touched the ground. The castle was far more expansive than the one she'd resided in back in Avonlea. She observed him as he led his horse to the stables. It made her nervous to think they were in the middle of nowhere. He soon returned. She shuddered as he placed his hand on the small of her back, leading her inside his extravagant estate.

"Where are your servants?" she asked when she saw no sign of anyone else.

"This castle doesn't need servants. It's not your typical dwelling," he remarked abstrusely.

"What are you going to do with me? You won me fair and square, and I promise to be obedient. Please just be patient with me because I'm inexperienced. You could teach me how to pleasure you, and I'm-" she blurted out uncharacteristically.

He placed a nimble digit to her lips to silence her. "I didn't buy you to become my slave, but my wife. You don't have to worry about me forcing myself upon you. You'll be provided with your own room and with as much space as you need. My only request is that you take your meals with me daily," he returned, catching her off guard.

"Let me get this straight, you came to the slave market, seeking a wife?" she remarked dumbfounded.

"No, I stumbled upon the sale as I was passing through the district. I'd just returned from a quest and was headed home when I heard the commotion. The moment I gazed upon you, I knew I had to spare you," he explained.

"Why a wife, and why me?" she countered.

"Because I'm growing older, and I desire companionship and children, eventually," he disclosed.

"When shall we wed-" she paused, pining for his name.

"When we become better acquainted. My name is, Rumpelstiltskin, and yours?" he probed.

"My name is Belle," she answered, attempting to make sense of this peculiar scenario.

"What a lovely name," he smiled infectiously, grasping her hand gently in his own as he pressed a tender kiss along the underside of her wist. She blushed prettily at the intimate gesture. The moment was severed as she thought of her own kingdom. Did her people presume her dead, or were they still searching for her? How was she to broach the subject to him? Technically she wasn't his property, but he'd won her fair and square. The outcome was far better than she could have hoped for, but she had no idea where to go from there. Her life was in his hands now. She only hoped he was compassionate enough to see her dilemma and would want to help her. Only time would tell.