It's been a while since I wrote anything, and I'm going to make this a short one with only a couple more chapters because I've learned I cannot write and keep up with anything lengthy. Between work and classes and volunteering and looking for internships oh, and I sleep somewhere in there too... ugh. No time. But I'll do the best with what I have. Anyway...
I've always had a soft spot for Beauty and the Beast, and I always had a soft spot for Rumplestilskin (and yes, its -ple- not -pel-, look at the dagger) so when they combined them, well, you're reading this story, you know the thoughts and feelings. I had a creative moment and... this was born. I own the plot, not the characters, blah blah, and all those other disclaimery things that should be mentioned here. So, here goes:
It's the most wonderful and amazing thing in the world. Love is hope. It fills our dreams. And If you're in it, you need to enjoy it. You need to be with…
The Person You Love
It had been a little more than a week since Isabelle French had joined the real world. A fire evacuated all occupants from the hospital and while assisting with the disaster Sheriff Swan had stumbled upon the small, shivering, and entirely sane Belle. After piles of paper work and a thorough examination by Dr. Hopper, Belle now found herself on a lovely (for March) Sunday morning, seated at the bar in Granny's Diner, with newfound friends Emma, Mary Margaret, and Ruby.
"Ruby," Granny was looking out the front windows, concern on her face, "What is today?"
"Sunday," Ruby chirped back, her usual bubbly self. Then her mood tanked as a sudden realization dawned, "The first Sunday of the month," she groaned.
"What does that have to do with anything? What's wrong?" Mary Margaret inquired.
She was ignored as Granny bustled about, going to the cash register, "We do have it all, right Ruby?"
Ruby grimaced, "No… we're still short two-hundred dollars."
"If you had let me pay you," Belle chimed in, scowling, "you might have that two-hundred dollars. What is it for anyways?"
"Nonsense girl," Granny waved her off, "It's not your fault we don't have the money, people just aren't eating out like they used to. With you and your circumstances I am happy to house you until you get back on your own two feet."
"Belle," Emma turned to her, "You're about to meet one of Storybrooke's most prominent citizens. Just keep your head down and your mouth shut and you'll be fine."
"I don't understand," she protested, "What's the big deal?"
It was Mary Margaret's turn to address her, "Mr. Gold is a very difficult man. He'll find any way to make you owe him a debt and he won't be forgiving about it. As long as you make yourself invisible to him, you'll be fine."
The door chimed behind them as it opened and an impeccably dressed man sauntered in, slowly glancing around, with a smirk on his face. Belle did as she was told and kept her head down and her back to him, noticing other diner guests doing the same. He made his way to the register, and as Belle peeked out of the corner of her eye she saw that he walked with the aid of a gold-handled cane.
"I assume you know why I'm here," he spoke to Granny softly, but Belle still noticed, and oddly enjoyed, his gentle accent. He held out a hand, and Granny hesitantly placed a bundle of money in it.
"It's not all there," she admitted, "I'm short two-hundred dollars."
He made eye contact with her, his expression unchanging, "That is… unfortunate. Surely you know what that means." Granny cringed at his words.
"Wait!" Ruby started, "I have the money."
"Then why, pray tell, is it not here?" he asked her, holding up the bundle of cash.
"It's part of my personal funds…" she sighed, "I was saving up to take an online class, but I will write you a check for the rest of the money."
"Yeah, you will." He stated matter-of-factly.
Belle couldn't stay silent any longer. This man was no better than a thief. "You bastard," she snarled.
His gaze snapped over to her and was glaring daggers; "I'm sorry, do I kno-" he stopped talking as she straightened up on her stool, looking at him above Mary Margaret's shoulders. Emma elbowed Belle sharply in the side, but Belle took no notice and started to speak, interrupting him, not caring what question he was about to ask.
"You bastard. Is it not bad enough this poor family has to break the bank to appease you, now you're making them postpone, possibly even ruin, their life's goals just so you can have a little bit more money? You certainly look like you would be able to survive with two-hundred dollars less this month; I think you can give them a break." Belle stopped to breathe, but only one breath before she was at it again. She did not even register the look of horror on his face, "And all that just to have a little bit of power. It makes me sick. All you care about is power. You would do anything to find it, ruin anyone's life to achieve it, and destroy your own happiness to have it. You make me sick." She finally ended her little speech, the last four words dripping with verbal venom.
At this point the entire diner was aware of the exchange between the two of them, eyes now focused on Mr. Gold and his coming reaction. His mouth still hung open, the expression on his face one of complete shock and something else no one would ever have expected on a man of his distinction: heartbreak. Belle's vision was too clouded with anger to notice. He snapped his mouth shut and roughly swallowed, quickly replacing his mask of coldness. He took a deep breath and then slammed his hand down on the counter and walking as quickly and prideful as he could back out the door. As he stormed past on the sidewalk outside Belle began to calm down, and when he paused outside a window and locked eyes with her, that same broken look on his face, she finally saw it.
"What was that?" Emma gaped, as Belle spun to face the counter and her now cold hot chocolate.
"My life was ruined because of someone's drive for power. That evil mayor kept me locked away so I could be used as leverage, so she could have power over someone else. Thank goodness that fire happened or who knows whose life she would have used me to wreck. I cannot stand people who think themselves so great that the lives of those below them do not matter. Everyone matters and everyone deserves a chance. When that wretched man was going to take away Ruby's chance at a better future, I couldn't just sit and watch," Belle finished, shaking her head.
"Belle," Mary Margaret put a hand on her knee, "Whatever you said affected him in some way. Mr. Gold left without the money.
Later that evening Belle sat at the table in Mary Margaret and Emma's apartment, picking at her dinner. "What's eatin' ya?" Emma asked through a mouthful of potato.
"Table manners," Mary Margaret scowled at her. If she didn't know they were only friends, and the same age, Belle would almost say Mary Margaret was Emma's mother. She was always correcting and critiquing, but loving and caring as well.
"I dunno," Belle mumbled, "I just keep going back to what I said to Mr. Gold."
"Don't." Emma told her, "The man is a dick. He deserved everything you said to him."
"I know and I might not feel bad except… that look he gave me. Emma, I think I hurt him." Belle paused in thought. "I need to go apologize. Excuse me." She pushed away from the table and grabbed her coat, heading out the door.
As she walked, very quickly, down the evening lit sidewalks she only hoped he would be in his shop. Belle turned the corner and saw the shop at the end of the street, a light still on inside. She had to stop herself from jogging as she got closer and closer to the door. She could finally see the small blue sign that read: OPEN. She slowed her pace a little, but only little; just in case the sign was turned before she reached the door. Finally she made to the door, and slowly pushed it open, walking inside, with a little jingling bell announcing her arrival.
The scene before her almost took her breathe away. The store seemed to stretch on forever with so many objects, and so many memories. All of them, she presumed, trophies and prizes taken from their owners as part of some sick twisted deal. All placed in the shop to torture their former possessors into someday buying them back at an extremely inflated price. But the thing that entranced her most, was the smell. It was… familiar.
The great and powerful Rumplestilskin had been sitting in the back of his shop, wrestling with his thoughts for hours upon hours since the morning's main event. When he woke up he was feeling as bitter and cold as ever. But now, now he was ready to tear his hair out. Belle was alive. Very much alive and very much upset with him. Very, very upset with him. And another thing: Regina had lied to him.
So some of the hours were spent rationalizing that he was hallucinating, and when that became an impossible option he spent time plotting to kill Regina, but not before breaking, no, shattering, her heart. And the rest of the time was spent thinking about how to fix things. How to fix all of the mistakes he had ever made both today, and thirty years ago.
Wherever Regina had kept her, however she had tried to taint her, he was certain of one thing. That beautiful, beautiful woman who defied him was still very much his Belle. The same voice, the same hair, the same crystalline blue eyes filled with the same bravery. He was roused from his thoughts by his bell.
"How can I he-" Mr. Gold stopped short upon realizing whose presence he was addressing. Roused by his Belle, indeed. "I'm terribly sorry Miss French but I am about to close up for the night and would appreciate it if you left." She could hear the tension in his voice.
"Mr. Gold," she began, the name sounding wrong when addressing him, for some reason, "I came to apologize for my outburst this morning. It was terribly inappropriate of me. I should have kept my mouth shut and stayed out of your business. I'm sorry."
He was silent, and it made her uneasy that she could not see his expression clearly in the dim light. The lighting was fortunate for him though, considering he was on the verge of breaking down, the same emotions from before plaguing him. Belle was alive. Regina had lied to him, but more importantly, Belle was alive. Revenge would have to wait.
Belle was here and doing the very thing he should have done the moment he saw her. She should not be apologizing for anything. She had no idea everything she said was so amazingly true; especially the part about compromising his own happiness. If he hadn't been so damned scared of losing his powers… He couldn't think of how things might have been. Those thoughts only made the nights long and unbearable. "You are forgiven," he finally whispered.
"I know my outburst suggests otherwise, but I'm not really insane," she spoke softly, wondering why she felt the need to clarify this to the town's feared businessman. Perhaps so he doesn't try to con me into owing him anything, she reasoned.
"Oh I can see that, Miss French," he took a few steps towards her, allowing her to see his face now that he had secured his expression of emotionlessness, "Now if you'll excuse me I've had a long and humiliating day, and would very much like to go home." He damned himself for speaking to her so coldly.
"Yes, of course." She nodded, "You have a good night, Mr. Gold." She pushed open the door but paused before leaving, "I really am sorry," she glanced back at him one more time as the door closed behind her, and thought she again saw the brokenness.
"Me too," he choked out as she left, "Me too…"