Part Two
Though her living conditions remained the same, Belle found joy in the days she went to town. It gave her a small escape from her stepmother and stepsisters' scrutinizing gazes. Regina was a bit kinder to her, but she was still made to do her mother's bidding. In reality, she didn't have a single friend in the world she could count on. She meandered through the hustle and bustle of the square, carrying her straw basket close to her side. She peeled her ears, listening to bits of conversation between customers and venders. She relished the sweet aromas wafting through the air from the bakery, and the smell of fresh cut flowers from the florist.
She noticed a man with dark sable eyes and long unruly hair standing behind a stall with the finest thread she'd ever seen in her life. Belle noticed as the the customers passed by his stall as if it were invisible. She sauntered towards the peddler, wanting to get a better look at his fabrics.
When the vendor noticed her interest in his wares, he cast her a welcoming smile. "What can I do for you, milady? Is there a certain color that interests you?" he inquired, and she smiled politely.
"I'm afraid I don't have the money to purchase such lavish threads, but they're all lovely. I particularly like this golden yellow hue. It would make a beautiful gown, but I wouldn't have anyplace to wear it or anyone to sew it for me," she supplied with a forlorn sigh, averting her gaze sheepishly.
He was about to make a remark when the blare of the trumpet cut through the chatter of the square, halting their conversation. Belle turned to see the royal crier perched on a wooden stand nearby. He readied himself to make a royal pronouncement while a crowd gathered round.
"Hear ye! Hear ye! Know that our good king George, fifth of that name, protector of the realm, Holy elector of Avonlea, has decided that on this day two weeks hence there shall be held, at the palace, a royal ball. At said ball, in accordance with ancient custom, the prince shall choose a bride."
The crier looked up as the crowd murmured in excitement, then he cleared his throat. "Furthermore, at the behest of the prince, it is hereby declared that every maiden in the kingdom, be she noble or commoner, is invited to attend."
At this, the murmurs turned into full-fledged cries of excitement. This was completely unprecedented. Commoners had never been invited to attend royal balls before, much less a ball so imperative to the future of the kingdom.
Belle couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement. This might just be her chance to escape her life of servitude. She turned back to the peddler with a satisfied smile gracing his lips, his sable eyes analyzing her curiously. She'd never met this man before, yet when she looked into his eyes, they felt familiar.
"It looks like you have a reason to make a dress now, dearest … Why don't you take the yellow fabric as a gift from me? Go home and make yourself a dress, and when you win the prince's heart, you can pay me back!" he insisted, thrusting his finest spool of golden thread, and a bolt of fine gold silk fabric into her arms.
"Th-Thank you, but that won't be necessary. I won't be going because the prince wouldn't choose a girl like me in a million years. Besides, my stepmother would forbid it," she protested, attempting to hand him back the fabric.
He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her down to meet his gaze, "Then that's all the more reason why you should go! Stop letting other people control your destiny, and choose your own fate for once. You might be surprised as to where it will take you," he asserted, before letting her go. The declaration of his words weighed heavily on her heart.
`X`
Cora and her daughters had gone to a party, leaving her with the house to herself. Belle ran her fingers over the fine thread, imagining what kind of ball gown it would make. An image of a golden ball gown appeared in her mind with a simply designed bodice, wrapped off the shoulder sleeves, a wide-hemmed floor-length skirt made of eight triangular panels and a multiple layered white petticoat with a scalloped edging on the hemline. She would have her hair tied back in a sophisticated bun, but the majority of it would trail down her neck in silken waves.
She decided to get to work as she produced her mother's old sewing kit from the drawer. She knew a little about sewing from one of her maids, and hoped it would be enough to make her dress. Belle tirelessly worked on making her dress, and used all of her free time to sew and hem it. It was almost as if the thread the peddler had gifted her with was magical because it seemed to flow so effortlessly through her fingertips and the spool didn't run out until she was completely finished with the gown.
On the night of the ball, Belle admired her finished work. She was a seamstress by no means but her dress was extravagant. It was almost as if the fabric was enchanted, and had conjured itself into such a masterpiece. Belle pinned her hair up in a high bun and donned the gown. She admired it in the full length mirror, more than satisfied with her work. Now for the hard part … convincing her stepmother to let her go to the ball.
"Do the brave thing and bravery will follow," she repeated the mantra over and over in her head as she descended the stairs.
In the foyer stood her stepmother and stepsisters each adorned in their evening gowns. Zelena was the first to notice Belle in all her glory. A pang of jealousy shot through her once she noticed how beautiful her sister looked, "Mother, look!" Zelena shouted, pointing towards the stairs. Cora gazed up to see Belle in her golden ball gown which put theirs to shame.
"Where did you get that!?" Cora demanded in an accusatory tone, sauntering towards the beauty.
"I made it!" Belle said defensively, and she heard Cora scoff loudly at her comment.
"Made it? You made it? Are you sure you didn't steal it!?" she sneered, pulling on the lace fringe.
"Stop it! You'll rip it!" she fired back, resulting in a stinging feeling across her face. Belle held her cheek, stunned by her stepmother's actions. Cora constantly berated her, but she'd never raised a hand to her before.
"Mother, don't you think that's unnecessary? Belle works hard! Shouldn't she be allowed to go to the ball too?" Regina quickly defended.
Cora turned to the raven haired girl, giving her a pointed glance. "Go to the ball? Servants don't get to go to balls! The only place she's going is back upstairs to take that thing off! I'll investigate this matter later! Now get in the carriage!" Cora commanded, practically pushing her daughters out the door.
She turned back to the stairs, giving her step daughter an admonishing look, "Don't even think of leaving this house! If I find out that you did, I'll lock you in that attic permanently!" she threatened before storming out of the house, the door slamming behind her. Belle collapsed on the stairs in a sobbing heap, feeling as if all her hard work was for naught. What had she been thinking that her stepmother would really allow her to go to the ball?
The sound of their moving carriage outside made her want to run, so she did. She didn't know where she was going, but she picked up her skirts and ran out the back door and down the dirt path which led to the bubbling brook. She was about to step into its shallow depths when she heard a warning voice from behind.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you dearie! Your dress will get dirty and then you won't be fit to go to the ball." the familiar voice resounded from behind, She turned around to see an impish man with gold gray skin and distinct amber eyes.
"You're the peddler from the marketplace who sold me the thread, and the mysterious stranger I met by this very brook years ago. What are you doing here?" she inquired, mesmerized by him, her feet carrying her closer as if by a will of their own.
"Were you expecting your fairy godmother, dearie?" he smirked impishly, and she shook her head,
"Of course not. I don't believe in such fairy tales," she scoffed.
"Good, because I might have stolen her wand, but anyway that's of no importance … The real reason why I'm here is to help you get to the ball," he elaborated with his hands fluidly.
"I'm not going, so you're wasting your time. I have no desire to marry a prince. The only thing I wish to do is separate myself from the vile fiends who insist on making my life a living hell … " she explained petulantly, kicking a rock with her foot in irritation into the brook.
"Well, dearie … The only reason I'm here is because I need you to go to the ball, and distract the prince with your worldly charms, while I steal one of his royal gemstones for my potion. You can do whatever you like after the ball, but you do owe me for the fabric," he warned with a mischievous gleam in his eye. Belle felt heat pool in her belly. She'd never met anyone like him before, and he was eliciting foreign desires from her.
"And I believe I just told you I no longer wish to attend," she countered stubbornly, crossing her arms over her chest. She was thinking more and more how she'd prefer to spend the evening in the imp's presence, for he promised far more entertainment than one of the royal affairs up the hill in that stuffy old castle.
His movements were fluid, almost snakelike as he moved closer, his face mere inches from hers. A calculating gleam shone in his eyes as he trapped one lone chestnut lock between his fingers and drew her closer, certain she wouldn't be so haughtily stubborn when in such proximity with his beastly countenance. "I'm afraid I must insist, dear girl. A debt is owed after all."
Belle decided to call his bluff, not at all intimidated with his high-handedness. He frowned as she lifted her hands to her bodice. "If you'll give me a hand with the stays, I'll be happy to return your property," she drawled with a coy smile.
He jumped back as if she'd set him aflame. "I don't wish for your dress! Just do as I ask and go to the ball," he cajoled.
She sighed, shooting him a level look. She couldn't remember the last time she'd enjoyed mere conversation. An idea struck her, and she couldn't quell the bubble of excitement coiling in her breast. "Fine … I'll go but only if you'll accompany me to the ball as my escort for the evening," she countered.
He gave her a puzzled look. "Date?" he inquired, gaping at her.
"Yes I want you to be my escort - " she proposed, fishing for a name.
"Rumplestiltskin," he saluted her with a gentlemanly bow, He was so flummoxed, his well-guarded name had passed his lips before he could think twice.
"Well Rumple … I hope it's okay if I call you Rumple." She blushed, and he couldn't help but find her utterly adorable in that moment,
"Yes, dearie … Rumple is fine … Now how about we head to that ball? After we arrive, I'll need you to create a diversion for the prince and his guests while I find the gem I need. I'll meet back up with you outside on the palace steps once the clock strikes midnight. If you're not there, then I'll know you've decided to stay at the ball with the prince, but if you meet me on the steps, then I'll know you've decided that he isn't for you," he giggled impishly.
"Deal..." she nodded, and he snapped his fingers, whisking them away to the palace in a fog of crimson smoke.
~X~
Prince Robin sighed, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He was bored out of his mind with all the frippery below. From his spot in the upper balcony of the ballroom, he had been watching the majordomo announce every guest for the last hour. None of the ladies in their lavish silks and fine jewelry stuck out to him. They all looked the same amongst the crowd of powdered faces.
As his eyes swept over the grand ballroom, which glittered under the glowing chandeliers, he watched the baton-wielding conductor leading the orchestra through a lively waltz. He saw the servants, dressed in tailcoats, walking around with trays topped with hors d'oeuvres and glasses of champagne, and he observed the guests - royal and commoner alike - dressed in their colorful finery milling about.
They'd come from far and wide for this ball, and the excitement was evident, even from his perch, but none of them turned his head. His father had insisted he marry for power, but in reality all he wanted was to marry for love.
Rumplestilskin placed a glamor spell on them so that he and Belle would be unrecognizable to everyone. They entered the palace together as the royal crier introduced him as Lord Gold and her as Lady Beatrice of Avonlea. They filed in and behind the others, and immersed themselves within the crowd. They partook of a few dances, and she was convinced that Rumple was a wonderful dancer. When the tenth hour approached, the king began soliciting various ladies to dance with his son. The prince looked bored, and Belle couldn't help but feel sorry for him.
"I'm sorry dearie, but this is where we must part. I need to find that jewel. Meet me on the palace steps when the clock strikes midnight for that is when the glamor spell will wear off, and we don't want your dear old stepmother to discover you here, now do we?" he whispered silkily in her ear before disappearing into the crowd. She felt a pang of emptiness fill her heart at his departure, but didn't have time to dwell on it before she was being picked for a dance with the prince.
"Milady … May I have this dance?" the prince inquired of her, and she nodded demurely, taking his outstretched hand.
"You may," she obliged. She trained her eyes on the prince but couldn't help but allow her eyes to wander occasionally to other corners of the room, searching for Rumplestiltskin.
"If you don't mind me asking … Who are you looking for?" he whispered against the shell of her ear to be heard over the sounds of revelry.
It never crossed her mind that he would pick up on her anxiousness. "I'm looking for my friend … I'm sorry to take up your time, but I'm not really interested in marrying a prince or anyone for that matter," she apologized, and he chuckled dryly as they spun on the dance floor.
"I'm not either, but my father is insistent on me marrying someone. He doesn't understand that these things take time. I don't want to be stuck in a loveless marriage," he scoffed, and Belle couldn't help but chortle at his displeasure.
"Then you should make that very clear to your father … A life lived without love is a life half lived. I hope you find your one true love tonight, and that she also finds you," she beamed brilliantly.
"And I hope you do the same, Lady Beatrice. Go … find your lover." He winked as they parted ways on the dance floor. Belle gaped at his observation, but perhaps he was right. She glanced at the clock which read a quarter until midnight, and her mind went back to his proposal. She could meet him on the palace steps or stay at the ball. What would meeting him on those steps entail? Would he just lengthen the glamor spell, and leave her all alone again, or would he take her with him? Belle wasn't sure what she was doing except what her heart told her to, and it urged her with haste to those palace steps. She picked up her skirts, and pushed through the crowds as another five minutes ticked by.
She made her way out on to the steps, gasping for breath. Rumplestiltskin!" she called out to the man facing away from her in dragon leather attire. He turned around, surprised to see her, his rough features softening in stunned delight. She sauntered towards him, bravely cupping his face in her hands, "I'm here." She smiled sweetly at him, her fingers shyly toying with the hair falling over his brow to mask his eyes from her.
He cleared his throat, trying to gather his wits about him. "I see that, dearie … I'm guessing you didn't fancy the prince or you wouldn't be here," he bubbled in his thick brogue, his heart hammering in his chest from her close proximity.
"I'm afraid not, but there is someone I do fancy very much … " she smiled through her half lidded gaze, and he shuddered from her advances as she dusted her fingertips down his jawline.
"And who might that be?" he whispered huskily, his hands lifting to settle possessively at her waist. She didn't answer him with words, but with her lips pressed firmly against his in a mesmerizing kiss. He tangled his fingers in her thick chestnut tresses, pulling them from the bun atop her head as he worshiped her lips with his own. The clock chimed, signaling the witching hour, and Belle relaxed securely in his arms after breaking the kiss.
"Take me with you..." she pleaded breathlessly, and he smiled against her skin, but pulled away with the soft shake of his head.
"I'm afraid that would be too dangerous, my dear. After this night I'm going on a long journey ... one I must complete on my own."
"I have no quality of life here … My stepmother and stepsisters treat me as though I am their slave. I can't return home to all of that," she sighed, leaning against him.
"Don't worry, dearie. I took care of them. You won't have to worry about them anymore, and I've returned all of your father's accounts back to your name," he assured her, kissing her forehead lightly.
"Will I ever see you again?" she inquired with tear brimmed eyes.
"As sure as the sun rises, I'll return to you again someday," he assured her with a parting kiss against her lips, and then he vanished. She stood beside the bubbling brook in her golden dress. Had it all been a dream? She plodded back to the house surprised to see a royal carriage parked at her residence. She walked towards the carriage, and a driver emerged.
"Are you Ms. Belle French?" the driver inquired, and she nodded briskly.
"I am." she affirmed, and he presented her with a set of documents which spoke of criminal charges against her stepmother Cora and step sister Zelena.
"What happened?" she questioned as she gazed over the documents which read of a charge against them for theft. "Lady Mills and her daughter Zelena were caught trying to steal some of the royal jewels while the prince danced with Regina. We just wanted to make you aware of these charges, and inform you they've been taken into custody and will stand trial in a few days," he explained, and she smiled before handing him back the documents.
"Thank you, good sir," she replied, bidding him goodnight. She couldn't thank Rumplestiltskin enough for making things fall in her favor. Belle wasted no time in the following days, opening up new accounts in her name and transferring the remaining funds. She made sure Cora and Zelena didn't have a penny to their names, and couldn't help but feel even more satisfied when Regina refused to bail them out of their misery. She and Prince Robin had hit it off at the ball, and would be wed by the end of the month. Regina made sure to send Belle some royalties for the discomfort her family had caused her throughout the years.
Belle focused on tending to the gardens, and putting her father's business back into working order while she waited for her beloved to return. A few years had passed since the events of the ball, and she tried to convince herself that she'd made him up while in the pit of her grief. She wasn't sure what led her to the worn dirt path behind the house, but she felt something calling her. She traipsed down the path and dipped her feet into the bubbling brook.
She felt her breath hitch in her throat when she heard his phantom voice from behind. "I wouldn't do that if I were you, dearie! Your dress will get dirty, and then you won't be fit to go to the ball," he teased.
Belle turned around to meet the warm sable eyes of the peddler she'd met in the square all of those years ago, his gold gray skin replaced by human flesh. He wasn't dressed in his usual leather attire or the worn tunic and breeches he wore in the marketplace. He was dressed in the finest suit she'd ever seen but none of that mattered. It didn't matter if he was donned in rags or riches, she still wanted him. She flung herself into his arms, kissing him mercilessly. He devoured her lips in a searing kiss, and only pulled apart because of thier need for air.
"You came back..." she cried, tears cascading down her cheeks. He cradled her face in his hands, brushing away any stray tears which fell.
"As sure as the sun rises, I'll always return to you, my Belle." He smiled, and she couldn't help but laugh joyously through her tears.
"Where did you go that you couldn't take me with you?" she inquired, and he entwined their fingers.
"It's quite a long story, my Belle … Would you like to hear it?" he asked, and she smiled.
"I have an entire lifetime to listen to all of your stories ... if you promise to stay with me forever."
"Forever it is then, dearie … " he promised before kissing her again.
They returned together to the Victorian where he recounted to her all of his tales, and she listened. The kingdom thrived under Regina and Robin's reign while Cora and Zelena spent the rest of their days locked away from the rest of the world, and Belle and Rumplestiltskin settled down into the routine of daily life as husband and wife. Sometimes they would stay in the mansion, but Belle had always thirsted for adventure and was always willing to go anywhere with him. Sometimes he appeared to her as an imp and other times as a man, but she loved all of him. Cinderbelle may not have ended up with the prince, but she'd found true love with her wily imp, and that was good enough in her book.
The End
A/AN: I hope you all enjoyed that … Here is the very first in a series of fairy tales I want to write. I took a few different elements from the Cinderella story, but I wanted this to be kind of original. I've left a lot of Rumple and Belle's romance shrouded in mystery because I wanted this to focus more on Belle and her experience, and less on Rumple. In some stories that I write, they will center more on Rumple than Belle, but I hope you enjoyed this regardless. Please review!