Author's note: Thanks to everyone for the kind reviews. Here comes the chapter everyone hates to write but loves to read.
-X-
Dawn the next day found Belle back at the workroom, now dressed in clothing more suitable to her station, as Jafar had put it. She felt as if she hadn't slept for more than a few hours. She had entered the tiny room given for her use, laid down on the cot inside, and had a long cry.
But here she stood the next morning with fresh determination. She would choose her own fate, she thought fiercely. She would see her father again. And in the meantime, she would fulfill her end of the bargain.
With that thought in mind, she entered the workroom. She resolutely avoided looking at the cage only to find herself staring at the demon, lying on a small table at the opposite side of the room. It was curled on his side with its arms lying loosely in front of its chest. Although she could see no bonds of any kind, its form was so still that for a moment, she thought that it was dead. Only the faint rise and fall of its chest gave sign of its life.
"Ahem."
Belle started at the faint cough. In her staring at the creature, she had missed the heavyset man standing behind the table. She grimaced at the stained pair of pliers in his hands before bobbing into a curtsy.
"Call me Lord Master Iago." His eyes trailed down to her chest, and Belle immediately crossed her arms, scowling at him. Jafar, with all his haughtiness, had not asked for any special title. She was not about to bow to this balding man who had not even saved her home. "Start cleaning."
When he gave no further instructions, Belle picked up a rag from the bucket beside the door and walked over to the small table. "What are you doing?"
Iago leered at her, brandishing the pliers. "Pulling scales. They're saturated with magic. Much easier to go to the source."
"Scales? It looks like skin to me." Belle resisted the urge to lean closer to the Dark One and its yellow grayish skin. She was also uncomfortably aware that it was still dressed only in ragged trousers.
Quicker than a man his size should have been able to move, Iago grabbed her hand and forced it onto the demon's emaciated chest. Ignoring her attempts to yank her hand back, Iago grinned at her. "Feel."
Despite herself, Belle could feel the scales against her fingertips. They were rough in texture and about the size of her fingernails along its chest before growing larger and softer on its stomach, which rose and fell rapidly beneath her hand. The texture reminded her very much of a snake's scales.
She followed the patterns of color with her gaze until she reached the demon's face. And it's eyes. She could see the humiliation in them for a moment before they became murderous. She had often read about seeing emotions in the eyes but had never believed it until that moment.
Ashamed of herself, Belle yanked her hand free of Iago's clammy grip. He leered at her for a moment in challenge before returning his attention to the demon's back.
Belle moved to the side of the table to get out of the demon's penetrating gaze and avoid standing too close to Iago. She managed to get a good look at his work. Dark trails of blood ran down the Dark One's back and onto the table. It was difficult to see if there were any scales even left.
Before Iago could apply the pliers again, Belle hurried to ask, "How do you keep him on the table?"
"Commands. But the bloody creature can find the loophole in anything Jafar says." Iago punctuated this statement with a jab of his pliers, and the table creaked as the demon's muscles tightened. "It takes us days to write up an order so that there's no way he can weasel out of it. So we only have two set commands: get in the cage or stay on the table."
He placed his pliers against the creature's shoulder blade. Without thought, Belle darted forward to shove his arm out of the way. "Stop it! It's hurting him!"
Iago grabbed her arm with bone crushing force and pulled her against his body. "I could hurt you." He brought his mouth towards hers, and Belle clawed at his face with her free hand.
With a curse, Iago tossed her away from him. Belle hit the floor and began to scramble backwards as he started towards her.
"Iago." Both Belle and her attacker froze at the sound of Jafar's voice. "I believe you were in the middle of something before you started gabbing."
Bowing and scraping, Iago stumbled back to the table.
Jafar's cold gaze turned on her. Belle snatched up her fallen rag and hurried over to the opposite side of the room to begin scrubbing the floor. She kept her gaze riveted on the flagstones long after Jafar left the workroom. The grime began to blur as her eyes welled up, and she grit her teeth to ignore the sound of the creaking table from across the room.
-X-
"You are an idiot, you are an idiot, you are such an idiot," Belle muttered to herself as she hurried down the hallway. It was nearly three in the morning by her calculation, and although Jafar hadn't given her specific work hours, he had implied that she should be back in her room until breakfast.
Hopefully she wouldn't meet anyone on her way to the workroom. The two elderly women working in the kitchen were the only other servants she had met, but that didn't mean that Jafar didn't employ more. As for the man himself or his odious assistant, she trusted her lying abilities enough to believe that she could talk her way out of any trouble.
When she reached the workroom door, she dropped to her stomach and peered underneath. The room was dark, and she could hear no movement.
She pushed the door open an inch and looked inside. The room was empty, save for the Dark One who was still lying on the table. Reminding herself that he was paralyzed, she stepped into the room.
She approached the table with caution, making sure to stay within his line of sight. The demon's eyes were open but unfocused, and fine tremors ran through his body.
She had scrubbed out her bucket and refilled it with water from the kitchen earlier the previous day. If anyone had asked, she had planned to say that she was saving herself time the next morning. However, the kitchen women never spoke to her, no matter her attempts to get more information. And neither Iago or Jafar had noticed.
Now she dipped a clean rag into the water and walked up to the table. Every horrible story she had ever read about demons ran through her mind. And at any moment she expected Jafar's voice from behind her, demanding to know what she was doing. Her hand shook as she raised the rag above the Dark One's mouth. Tremulously, she squeezed the rag until the water dripped onto the demon's lips.
For a moment he did not move, then his eyes came back into focus. A range of emotions passed through them: anger, humiliation, confusion. His lips moved slightly.
"That's better, isn't it?" Belle whispered. She half considered trying to use the bucket but did not want to drown him. She peered over the table and hissed at the bloody rags covering his back. She didn't dare to reach over his body to lift one of them, despite her curiosity.
She returned to drip more water into his mouth twice more before she noticed the grime on the window beginning to look a little lighter. She needed to get back to her room.
"I'll bring some bread crusts next time," she promised, dropping the rag back into the bucket. She had thought his emaciated appearance rather normal for a demon, but now she wasn't so sure.
