Bunnies: Alright, there she is doing something she should really be doing instead of writing Rum/Belle, but we'll fix that. On the count of three we jump out of the bushes on her.
Me: (looks around): What was….
Bunnies (wielding baseball bats): Get her!
Bunnies (pouncing as swinging the Rum/Belle bats)
Me: Must…write…Rum/Belle.
Bunnies: Mission accomplished. Let's get cake.
Bunnies: (Looks at you): You saw nothing!
Bunnies (Disappear into the shadows to get cake)
A/N: Yup more Rum/Belle. I have done Belle with magic, but never properly I don't think. I've always skipped the learning process, but no longer! This is not a one-shot, but the bunnies didn't hit me too hard so chapter will be sporadic. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: I do not own OUaT.
~8~8~
Dark clouds waywardly scudded the ebon firmament above the thick forest of Avonlea. The moon was a pallid ivory coin nestled in the satin night of late autumn that seemed to illume the land like day. Pines and dark firs latticed the pale face through the intricate canopy above allowing slants of moon to gild the laden branches in pale white and light a dappled path of motteled silver through the dark wood.
Hungry creatures that prowled the night were unusually silent and subdued as a lone figure stumbled raggedly through the verdant undergrowth and raised gnarled roots that spread like a rumpled carpet under the fallen crisp leaves of oaks and ash.
A woman with thick brown hair and eyes of sapphire tumbled through the forest for her life. Sweat chilled upon her creamy, dirt and blood stained skin as she raced like a frightened doe on the run from a nearing hunter. With every lurching step she prayed to outdistance her predators and at least find a place to hide from their blades and scalding hatred.
Behind the panting figure a gang of sword and torch wielding men galloped murderously through the ancient trees. Trussed in trapping of mail and silver plate they look akin to demons lumbering after her. Had she been upon open ground the men would have easily met her, but the forest impeded their journey as they strode upon the backs of frothing, wild eyed horses.
Part of her was merely grateful they hadn't time to gather the dogs that would have easily hunted her down through the brambles and thorns and clamped their snarling, frothing jaws upon her arms and legs.
A strangled sob escaped her cracked lips as a sharp branch struck her cheek a stinging blow as she ran blindly. Hot blood oozed down her porcelain cheek as she dashed headlong into the wilds.
"Faster men, we're gaining on the witch!" A blustery voice echoed about the naked, plaintive trees as though the scent of her agony was a beacon to them as spilt blood was to sharks.
Dread chilled the blood in her veins as she plowed onward to escape her pursuers through the thickest of the dried bramble and tangle. Tears stung her azure eyes, but she fought them back, burning them away with the will to live roaring in heart. No one would slay her least they could catch up and thrust a sword through her heart. She would not lay down like a cow for the slaughter and simply die because of something she could not help. No one decided her fate but her.
Maybe one day she could come back if she proved she wasn't cursed. Mayhap then their words would ring hollow and afforded her peace if she could but show how a help she could be. Until then she was not welcome or indulged. She was a dead woman by their strict standards.
"She's headed for the thickest parts of these accursed woods!" Another voice that once called her love and betrothed shouted like a clarion call in the darkness. Of all those in pursuit of her life, he was the one she was most wary over. Gaston knew the woods far better than she and could easily hunt her down had she been in hiding. He oft found himself in the kings woods to hunt game and now he was hunting her like a prize stag he would mount upon his hall wall.
Desperate, the female flung herself into the prickliest thorn thickets she could encounter. Eyes closed, arms flung over her head, she plowed through hoping what was left of her once shimmering golden dress would stay the thorns somewhat. Blood oozed from a hundred cuts, sopping her dress in ichor. Her hair entangled in the vines and prickles only to be yanked free from the thorns as she flew through the night, but still she raced on.
A sad smile bloomed upon her lips as she heard the horses shriek and the men behind her curse lividly as they were scratched and scraped and their horses rebelled against the undergrowth. The horses were bereft of their plate tackle, and had no intention of racing madly through the thorns. Maybe she had outrun them; maybe her wit had endured past their hatred.
Abruptly, as though mocking her thoughts of escape, a bent root caught her foot. The world seemed to come up to meet the beauty as she tumbled to the hard, cold ground. Shaken with fatigue, the fleeing woman forced herself to her knees but could not gain the strength for another step. They had been pursuing her since midday and now it was close to midnight. She had run without food or drink, without daring to stop. Behind her the sound of horses plowing through the cut brambles sang like a dirge in her ears. They had caught her.
Defeat welled within her, but she forced the bile back down. At least she had given them a good run and made them pay for unjustly stealing her life.
Looking forward towards where freedom could have been found if only she had not tripped her eyes widened to see tight leather pants instead of the dark, twisted trees. A gasp escaped her lips as two onyx eyes peered down like eternal pits in the blackness. The voided orbs were even darker than the night itself. His straggly hair fell about her face and his skin glimmered in the pale moon light like fish scales. A clever smile donned his lips as though she was a treasure he had lucked to come across.
His body was garbed in a brown silken shirt with a scarlet brocade vest and his breeches were made of dark leather. The buckles on his shoes glinted in the moon light like coins as he paced forward closer to her.
Startled, the woman tried to scrambled back, but her sore muscles rebelled. Even in the face of a strange new creature she could not run.
"There, we've caught her!" A voice, her papa's once so loving and kind, cried out angrily as the knights began to clear the thorn bracket.
The horses neighed crazily as the all pranced closer to the kneeling woman. Their eyes rolled wildly showing the white and opaque vapors bellowed from their steaming, flaring nostrils. Even in the mad chase the horses had not acted so rabidly, putting the men on edge.
"Look at the thing before her, she's summoned an aberration!" One knight screamed as his horse reared, legs churning the air. Blades waved through the air at his declaration, ready to take on the thing before them.
"No aberration I assure you gentlemen." The thing before them replied in a tittering, cultured voice. On hand behind his back he stepped clearer into a slant of glowing moon, revealing his gray-gold skin and flamboyant clothing of mulled russet and bright crimson. "At least, not the kind you think of."
The first speaker, a corpulent man dressed in ermine and fine spotted furs danced his tired animal closer. Beady black eyes puckered into the darkness, the ostentatious man's jaw was set wrathfully. "I am King Maurice, merchant Lord of this small land. What are you creature?"
"A creature of vastly powerful magic, great king." The strange thing bowed courteously as though he were in some court rather than the dark woods. "Rumpelstiltskin is the name." He trilled his title proudly, a smile inching upon his thin gray lips.
"Magic." The king huffed angrily. "We are men of science and law. Not of religion or magic. You have no place in our realm."
A grin stapled the creatures face as he clapped his black nailed hands together gleefully. "Ah so you are men of ignorance. Good that makes this all easier."
The knights bristled but remained silent in the face of the strange man. Spitting to the side the king stared the fiend sharply. "You are not from my kingdom, and your ways and the ways of the rest of this world are different. Since this is the case you may have a warning. We do not take kindly to people with the curse in my kingdom. Leave or be killed."
Rumpelstiltskin shrugged laconically as though taking the warning as mere advice and not a threat. "I was just passing through when I saw this riveting chase." He flourished a hand down to the cold, quivering woman breathing heavily after the lengthy run. "Quite a thrilling hunt with all of you on horseback and a lone woman bereft of a weapon racing for her life on foot."
"That woman, as we have just found out today, has the curse of magic." The plump king's face darkened hatefully as he pointed a grandiose sword to her. "To think, my own daughter was one of them. She used her power today by some stroke of good fortune and was discovered. She must now be killed." Raising a thick hand, he motioned to a man with a quiver bristling with arrows and a fine brown bow. "Her former betrothed shall have the honor of ridding our kingdom of another with such a foul craft."
"Perhaps there is a better way." The Dark One broke in just as the muscle ridden knight drew his bow. "You hate us people of magic do you not?"
Maurice nodded tersely, his eyes aglow with intrigue and vast suspicion. Who was this thing that had appeared through the low mists and spoke so grandly?
"Death is too good for one who so long betrayed you, don't you agree." The fiend cajoled in his falsetto timbre. "For so long you had a magic user in your court and knew not of her power. And now you but wish to end her life with one arrow?" Shaking his head and clucking his tongue as though in pity he held out his hands imploringly. "Let me take her off your hands. Sell her to me and I will make certain a swift demise will not be her fate. I will show her things worse than death."
The king shifted dubiously. "You would do such a thing to your own kind monster?"
"Oh yes, we monsters are very cruel. I have a torture room just for magic users to watch them be devoured by their own powers. Very gruesome, like fire on a candle wick burning them until their life is snuffed out." He nodded happily. Snapping his talons, lilac magic flitted through the air. The knights gasped in fear as magic crackled through the night hour. A yellowed scroll rested in the Dark One's grip where nothing had been before. Putting a hand in his ruby vest he produced a golden griffin quill. "Here's the deal, a room filled with gold in your palace for the girl."
Shock branded the woman's sweating face as she stared up to those who surrounded her. Rage and fear gripped her heart at the sudden turn of events. Her father knew her too well, knew what she would loathe. She had always been something of a free spirit and to have her fettered to a life of thralldom would be worse than death.
"Papa no... please. Rather I die than for you to even consider this." The girl upon the ground croaked desperately. For long moments she had knelt there waiting for the arrow to pierce her flesh, but the words of the strange thing, Rumpelstiltskin he called himself, sent shivers crawling down her spine.
Ignoring the woman he once called daughter the king stared at the Dark One. Affection for his daughter was gone with the knowledge of what she was. Her pleading only solidified the fiend's words and convinced him of the right choice. So long as they were left alone he cared not what happened to her. "Make certain that if she somehow escapes she will never again come to our lands and the deal is done."
"A deal then, king!" Rumpelstiltskin crowed delightedly like a happy merchant. His quill worked rapidly as he added the final touches to the scroll with outlandish flourishes of the feathered pen. "And the girls name?"
"It was Lacey." The king growled darkly, his lips twisted into vile disgust. "It was a family name but no longer. That title is no longer hers. I recant her as my daughter and dub her dead. She will never be spoken of again in my court. She has no name."
Chuckling lightly the Dark One scribbled upon the magical parchment with his golden quill. "The girl then." He trilled as he made the last dash. "There." Looking over the scroll with undisguised satisfaction he reread his changes. "The girl, once daughter of merchant King Maurice hereby belongs to the Dark One for the rest of her days."
"Deal." Maurice held his corpulent fur gloved hand out for the scroll. With a few noble flourishes his name lay engraved upon the parchment. "So long as she never comes back to this land we are of one accord. Take the witch and be done with you both monsters!"
A sly grin weaseled upon the Dark One's gray-gold face as he dipped a flamboyant bow and banished the scroll in a spurt of magic and a wave of his hand. "Of course your majesty. We'll be on our way, and I think you and your men should be going as well. The night is a nasty time with monsters in maid skin and all."
Nodding succinctly, the monarch turned his calming charger. The sweating beasts of the knights plodded tiredly back the way it had come on their mad dash. One by one the horses departed in a somber line, their hooves crunching the freshly fallen of the last leaves till even the sound of rustling was dead.
The woman watched with a wounded heart as her papa departed as though he had never called her daughter. In less than a day she had lost everything, even her name all for one mistake of a good deed.
Stuffing the enchanted quill in his crimson leather vest, the Dark One hummed happily to himself. Another profitable deal had been done. Waving his hand so the girl found herself to her feet he tugged at his vest and turned. "Well now let's be on our way girl."
"I'm not going anywhere with you." She retorted firmly, chalking up the last courage she held close like a wooden targ.
Lifting a finger into the air he grinned impishly. "Yes you will. I just made the deal and wrote it up. Weren't you listening?" He giggled sinisterly as though her slavery was amusing.
"My father signed that. No one decides my fate but me." Jaw knotted determinedly she stared the strange man-thing in the eye, defiant even though it might be the last time she drew breath. His words were right she knew, but perhaps there was a chance to fool him.
"Actually I do. Not only was the man your father and in being so having rule over you till marriage and also being the king to govern and dictate all the lives in his kingdom I own you twice over." He explained nonchalantly. "The magic wouldn't work if the bargain was not valid. In another land perhaps you would have a point, but you are of this realm and the laws were your father's laws."
Her eyes narrowed in the darkness. "I am my own woman. You made no deal with me. My father had no right and so I am not bound to your silly deal." Her heart sank low into the mires of desperation knowing her words would not dissuade him. His words rang true and they both knew it. Denial was but a last attempt to salvage her freedom, but there was no outwitting the strange creature.
"He had every right." Smiling like a small child who had just discovered something new, the Dark One clapped his hands. "And I even get to name you. Now come along with you. You may come freely and scrounge what's left of your pride or come by the power of magic. Either way you will follow." A hint of a growl traced his words sending a bolt of fear rippling through her.
The woman stared at the gray-gold skinned man for long minutes. Another biting wind measured her decision. She had no home any longer, no gold, no friends or even family. Head held high she motioned to him as though she were still a princess. "I'll follow willingly by my own decision."
"Good." He traipsed past her in a half skip. "My carriage awaits a small ways down the road." With that he walked languorously through the sable woods.
Heart heavy, the girl now without a name followed. Only once did she look back in the direction of what once was home then turned to trail the thing that had saved her life.
"Who are you?" She demanded to know as she followed close, her eyes searching him. He looked something like a man but none she had ever clapped eyes on.
He raised a finger into the air as he walked on. "Rumpelstiltskin, Dearie. You know the man who just bought your life from the maw of death?"
"What are you?" She struggled to keep up, though when he had magically helped her up he had done something to give her more strength. He wasn't quite a man she could discern, not quite at all.
The Dark One giggled manically. "A monster, a beast, a creature that prowls the desperate." Before she could broach another question he added. "And a skinner of maidens who ask to many questions."
Culled by his gruesome reply, the beauty kept her lips tight. Part of her whole heartedly believed he could and would do just as he warned. A bundle of emotions, the girl steadily followed the strange, powerful man who was now her master into the night.
~8~8~
The vermillion and silver carriage jounced roughly upon the snaking rutted roads that winded through the sleeping forest. With each new hole the wooden, gilded wheels encountered the red and silver carriage seemed to leap into the air and crash down to earth in a thunderous crescendo.
Ebony horses, led by neither coachmen nor rider, raced like frothing black demons down the dark roads. Their neighing fell to the ears as ghastly wails setting the dark coppices with spectral sounds of the dead and other monstrous creatures that lurked in the nightly hours.
A singular guttering candle alit the carriage with somber light, casting the Dark One's face in a shimmering glow of gold. The flame danced crazily in the speed of the wind, but never winked out or smoked.
The girl, Lacey as she had once been called, wrapped her slender arms about her sweat chilled body miserably. She looked a pitiful sight in the darkest corner of the carriage away from the flickering candle as though light itself burned. Home, family, life, and even her name gone with one simple spark of magic. One mistake had been all it took to end the life she had led and now be thrust into a strange turn of events with a thing that now owned her.
He had not taken his strange black eyes off of her since he had entered the carriage, and she had stared back with as much intrigue, determined to watch every move he made. If he could be rude, then surely she could parry him as well.
"I'm deciding on what to name you." Rumpelstiltskin revealed lightly. "Since it appears Lacey is off limits."
Her body stiffened at his words though she did not rise to argue against him. After the day she had endured a name was the least of her problems, but perhaps the most hurtful.
Leaning against the side, he spared a glance out of the carriage window covered by black satin. "We're nearly there." He remarked to himself lowly.
"Almost where?" She asked, her teeth chattering.
His lips twitched in a smirk. "My home. A castle nestled in the faraway mountain peaks."
She frowned darkly and shook her head. "That's impossible there's no mountain anywhere near my old h-"
The carriage lurched to a halt. Tack and harness jangled as the horses pawed at cobblestone. Wherever they were there was stone and mortar and cold, ghastly cold. Chill slithered through every crack in the gilt carriage making the beauty shiver.
"There." He tittered impishly and opened the carriage door. "Home sweet home." Beaconing his hand to the wary woman he held out his hand. "Come now girl."
"My name isn't girl." She growled as she took his hand.
"Very observant." A smile curled about his lips. "You don't have a name any longer, until I give you one. Don't fret though, names have power. Perhaps it would be best of none if us had names."
Forcing her tongue to still its retort, the girl stepped clear from the carriage. Her eyes widened like indigo pools as she gazed at the masterfully built castle of gray. Gargoyles clung to the roof and banners whipped crazily in the wind on the spires. Behind her a large stone fence had been erected while the rest of the estate was protected by perilous snowcapped mountains on all other sides.
"Don't dawdle girl, come now." Rumpelstiltskin sniffed as he pranced to two thick oaken doors. Waving a claw the massive doors groaned open revealing the dark inside maw of the citadel.
Too tired to broach more protest, if it would even do good, the nameless girl followed obediently. Despite what she had stated before the words of her father were true. In her land a woman was governed by her father till marriage. With such control he had sold her like a hog and she could do nothing in refute.
Warmth wrapped about her as she entered the stronghold. With the heat suffusing her stiff limbs she let the vastly pleasant feel force the chill away from her bruised body.
"Your father sought your death because you have magic, yes?" The Dark One inquired as he led her through a labyrinth of grandly decorated torch lit halls.
Sorrow clenched her heart, but she nodded dourly. "Yes. Magic is forbidden in our kingdom. My father is an inventor. Anything that is not science is frowned upon."
"Well then aren't you happy you won't ever see that place again?" His giggled echoed about the drafty corridor as they walked deeper into the keep.
Anger burned in her eyes as she stared daggers at the creature. "No. My father may have sold me, my kingdom loathed me, but it was home and I was happy there for a long time."
"Well this is home now." He remarked insouciantly, uncaring of her anguish. In less than a day everything had been stripped from her but the clothes upon her back. She had been struck down from her noble station and sold to a thing that had appeared in the woods as she was about to be killed like an animal.
"It's not home." She muttered, too fatigued even to snap back to her master with the proper bite. "It's a prison."
"I'm glad you see it that way." His high pitched laughter sang through the warm air as he stopped at a thick door with an iron barred window high upon the wood. His smile widened cruelly as he opened the door to a stone cell. "I was hoping I wouldn't have to try to convince you on the whole home thing." He sniggered impishly and offered a mocking bow.
The cell was bare save for a pallet of golden straw and a thin moldering blanket of gray. A dungeon of the most spartan stood before her to be called home now and forever.
The fire to fight him had been damped with the trials of the day that beset her from all sides. Another instance she would have been appalled and demanded to be let out or argue his choice to store her in a cage, but exhaustion swelled over her in a tide. Sick of heart and weary of limb she stumbled into the cell with barely enough energy to stand. Whatever magic he had wrought upon her had waned away leaving her with the fatigue she had known.
At least she was not running for her life in a cold forest. At least her father was not seeking to end her life. Whatever the creature deemed to do with her or how he found her remained a mystery, but so tired she no longer cared. All the evil cast upon her could be worked out when she recovered and assessed her strange new life.
Falling upon the pallet of straw she could nary even pull the musty blanket over her before her eyes shut. Despite the trials and changes of her life in one horrid day she was alive.
The last image she viewed was the slender, leather clad figure named Rumpelstiltskin stare down at her before closing the cell door of his newly acquired slave.
A chortle of glee escaped his thin lips as he strode to his spinning wheel to celebrate. Finally he had caught someone with natural magic and she had not cut some traitorous deal or bargain he had to circumspect or uphold. No, she could make no deal. She belonged to him and him alone!