(I don't own them , just borrowing them for a while. I like reviews so long as they help improve my writing.)
It started with a dry cough in the early morning while he went through his morning routine. He ignored it, blaming it on the dust. Might let Belle clean my room after all, he thought momentarily.
He resumed his personal grooming and went to the kitchen. He refrained from simply materializing from thin air. Last time he did, Belle nearly tripped and broke another cup. He smiled. Clumsy girl. As he rounded the corner, he willed his smile to disappear and went back to his usual demeanor. Uncaring, snarky and cold.
He stood by the doorway, observing Belle as she put the finishing touches to his breakfast. He was pleased to see she was wearing his favorite dress. It was a corn flower blue dress, with an elaborate gold lined bodice and slight frills at the bottom. The bodice had been hard to make, but the look on her face had been worth the pricked fingers. Not that he showed how happy her reaction made him, but he was, and she knew.
Belle finished setting the breakfast on a silver platter and was heading to the main hall when Rumpelstiltskin cleared his throat and signaled her to set it on the kitchen table.
"Good morning!" She greeted, her bright smile reaching up to her eyes. You would even think she was happy to see him.
"What's so good abou-" a coughing fit interrupted his unpleasant response, making him bury his face in the crook of his elbow.
Belle brought him a cup of water, a worried look on her face. He took the water and waited for the fit to settle down.
"You've got the beginnings of a bad cold." She said, adding milk to his tea. "You should take the day to rest."
"Did I ask for your suggestion, princess?" He snatched his tea and took a sip, the warm liquid soothing his throat.
Belle set his plate with more force than intended, her temper flaring slightly. She had settled right away in tending after the castle. The dust, the cobwebs, the cooking, the piles of laundry, she took it all in stride. There was only one thing she didn't take very well, and that was someone being rude when her intentions were good.
"No need for that tone, Sir." She warned, hand at her hips and a steely glare that would make any soldier cower in fear. "I can only imagine you wouldn't be the best of patients and I don't look forward to nursing you back to health."
Rumpelstiltskin blinked. He was at loss for words. No one, not a soul had spoken to him in that tone for years, decades, centuries. Here, this fragile creature with her soft blue eyes and lips of red was treating him like a stubborn child.
He shook his head and made a disgruntled noise, "I don't have time for this nonse-." Another coughing fit cut him off.
"You're right," She began in a mocking tone "Clearly you are in top shape."
Blushing slightly, he finished his tea in one gulp and moved towards the door. "Do have dinner when I get back dearie."
"I mean it Rumpelstiltskin," She threatened, her back turned to him as she took back the meal, "I'm not playing nurse when you get sick."
He stuck his tongue at her, feeling childish but triumphant for his small retaliation. Thinking that he got away with it, he left the kitchen, only to hear Belle half way down the hall.
"Don't think I didn't see that!"
He picked up the pace, hoping she wouldn't chase after.
He refused to get up the next morning. His throat was on fire and the constant sneezing made him feel light headed. A cold. A common cold had the dark lord writhing bed, his nose red like a tomato from the constant tissue use.
How is this even possible? He thought, conjuring another set of tissues out of thin air. What good is the power I yield if I can't take care of a simple cold?
The cold had altered his powers, reducing them to their most basic form. He couldn't risk using them for bigger things, fearing that they would more harm than good.
Can't call Belle. Won't give her the satisfaction.
He held on to his blankets tightly and remembered the previous day.
After he left the castle, the sun went in and an enourmous cloud emerged. The weather had conspired against him. He'd been caught up by a storm in the middle of a deal with a peasant, and not even the change of clothes or the warmth of his bed had gotten rid of the chill he felt. He'd barely made it through dinner, forcing some food down under Belle's watchful eyes.
He closed his eyes and pulled his blanket over his head, blocking any draft that might damage him further.
A loud noise startled him, but not enough to do anything about it. Someone had tripped on the carpet, and knocked over a table.
When Rumpelstiltskin hadn't showed up breakfast, Belle had figured that he'd finally succumbed to his cold. She got to work on a hearty broth to lift his spirits and a honeyed tea to sooth his throat. Belle smiled proudly, this meal was sure to get him over his cold and back to himself in no time.
Rumpelstiltskin, however, thought there was a more sinister plan at hand. She's going to kill me. He thought. I am weak, and she knows it and she's going to kill me… how embarrassing.
"I brou-"
"I know," he said in a resigned voice. "You're here to kill me. Just do it fast, won't get another chance like this."
"Kill you?" Belle asked confused and broke into a light chuckle, "My, you are quite sick aren't you."
"What are you waiting for?" He asked in between coughs.
He felt her move around the room, arranging chairs and tables and lighting a fire. Curiosity got the best of him. He cautiously poked his head from the covers, making it so all you could see was his wiry hair sticking at odd ends, and his jet black eyes peeking. He reminded Belle of the kitten she used to own in her castle. She giggled to herself, doubting her master would like the comparison to a kitten at a time like this.
Belle brought over a chair and sat by his bed. She cradled the bowl of broth and offered a spoonful at him.
"This ought to help." She pushed the spoon to his lips, waiting for him to swallow.
She poisoned it. He thought, eyeing the spoonful warily. But it smells great. I suppose this is a fine wa-. Her cool hand on his cheek startled him. She ran her thumb over his cheek in a reassuring gesture.
"I worked hard on this, give it a try, yes?" She pleaded sweetly, her eyes full of worry.
Without a word, he opened his mouth. The warm broth calmed his rumbling belly, and ushered away the chill that had made him shiver all night. He opened his mouth again, and let himself get spoon fed by Belle.
So she does care? How odd. He was loss for words. People either hated or feared him, the idea that someone cared for him was… Nice.
She began telling him stories from her youth. About the garden she used to tend after and about a kitten she used to play with. Between spoonfuls, she would reach for his forehead and feel the temperature. She'd dismissed the idea of him running a fever, but decided to keep checking just in case. He began counting the spoonfuls in between those brief moments of contact, leaning into her touch when her hand reached for his forehead.
After he finished the broth, she passed him his tea, and pulled out another blanket, tucking it in between the mattress.
"Why are you tucking it in?" He asked confused while he tugged at the blanket. "Are you tying me down?"
She shooed his hand away and tucked the blanket back in. "So you wouldn't climb out of bed."
His expression turned to that of mock annoyance. "Unnecessary."
She stuck out her tongue, and picked up the bowl of empty broth.
"I'll come to check on you later." She announced, moving towards the door. "I'll bring you more tea before supper."
He stayed silent, disappointment written on his face.
"You're leaving me." It was a statement. Not a question. Not an angry outburst. It was a statement heavy with hurt, and resignation.
He settle into the bed, back turned to Belle who stood under the door frame and pulled the covers over his head.
The small flame of hope extinguished when he heard his bedroom door snap shut.
Idiot, idiot, idiot, He thought furiously, How could I be so foolish as to think she would want to stay with me? Me. A repulsive monster whose own family grew to fear.
He felt his bed sink slightly and a pair of warm feet join him under the covers.
"Scoot over," Belle whispered lightly, her breath tickling his ear. "You're taking the entire bed."
Rumpelstiltskin turned towards her, her smile meeting his own. She nuzzled into him, letting him pull her in and wrap his arms around her waist. He studied her closely, trying to read her true intentions from her clear blue eyes. Taking the opportunity, she leaned in, delivering a sweet kiss onto his unsuspecting lips. The kiss was short and chaste and everything he had forgotten after centuries of being alone.
She buried her face in his neck leaving a trail of light kisses ending on his collarbone. He purr slightly, reminding her of her kitten and throwing her into a fit of giggles.
"Why are you laughing?" He asked joining her, stopping only to stifle a cough. "Tell me princess, how do I amuse you?"
"Hmm, nothing, I'm just really happy." She refrained from telling him about her kitten, a story left for another day. "Are you?"
"Very much so, dearie." He pulled the blankets tighter around them and leaned in for another kiss. "I fear I might get you sick as well."
"I wouldn't mind." She whispered softly, "As long as you're the one that makes me better."
He kissed her forehead and whispered back, "You can count on it."