Authors note: Two quick thoughts to share before I continue. First, my apologies for the shortness of the chapters. I have had no time for writing as of late, and rather than letting these things suffer abandon on my laptop I've decided to work on them in short bite-sized chunks in order that they might at least get done. Perhaps when all is done I will consolidate them into their proper chapter groupings, but for now I beg you to bear with me. I also have no time to really Beta-check everything, so again my utmost apologies. Readers deserve better. Second, I have seen little of the new series but this whole work was conceived and outlined before the premier and I have no intention of changing it (and thus the AU categorization). Any similarity it may bare to the show is completely circumstantial at this point.
Ps: to miss/mister Grace5231973; comments like yours mean the bloody world to me! Thank you so much for taking the time to reply, I always look forward to hearing from those who are kind enough to read my work.
Now, on with our tale…
The spell proved to be surprisingly benign by all accounts, at least Belle felt so, when compared to many magical forces she had read about (and encountered) over the years. It was certainly not as imposing a force on their lives as, say, 'the Curse' had been for twenty eight insufferable years. No one was sure exactly how far out the perimeter of the spell would extend, and with the town border technically still threatening to wipe away the identity of whoever dare press past it, no one was really eager to find out; fairy dust or no.
Belle's biggest fear had been that the spell, in hiding them away from the world, would also hide them away from many of the towns much needed imports. Storybrook was a small coastal town, much of their supplies and goods had to be imported from elsewhere. The last thing they needed was the threat of famine or even just a general supply shortage. Mercifully (or rather, magically) it appeared the spell had a built in caveat for such a need. Whatever supply lines and commercial goods the town required continued to arrive like clockwork each morning as it had every morning for as long as anyone could remember. Who and how such a thing was possible remained a mystery. Belle more than once wondered if it was truly the Spell that they had to thank for that, or perhaps the remnants of Regina's original Curse.
Another looming argument for the supremacy of providence she supposed. She was quick to shove the thought aside.
All in all, the Spell enacted very little by way of inconvenience for the citizens of Storybrook, Maine. No one could leave, of course, for fear of not making it back, but no one had ever actually left before so the loss seemed relatively moot. Indeed, one might question if the spell had actually been enacted at all if not for the sudden and complete digital silence that overtook the town. The very day the spell was cast the town underwent a complete digital and radio black out. T.V's reception, internet feeds, cell phones, radio transmissions, any and everything that could electronically communicate with the outside world had seen an abrupt and indiscriminant black out. Belle supposed it was only to be expected. After all, the Spell was designed to keep just about everything out, so why not information as well. The electric power continued to work as did the land lines (though calls were restricted to the very immediate zip code), which Belle took as a blessing.
It took about a week for the excitement to settle, but to everyone's immense surprise and relief the citizens of Storybrook calmed quite quickly back into a state of norm. That was not to say the whole affair had been devoid of drama. Far from it. There had been a brief threat of civil unrest over the whole affair, which she supposed was only to be expected. With many of the royals away, factions long dormant and desperate for the power and prestige they had enjoyed in their former land were quick to seize on the opportunity presented. Former rulers, once wealthy families, vengeful warlocks, and many a lesser witch and wizard began to metaphorically (and in one disturbing instance, quite literally!) rattling their sabers, demanding rights and sway over the fate of the upturned little town. But this was not the Enchanted Forest. This world was governed by laws, not edicts- almost three decades of such liberties (overshadowed as they may have been) had made the citizens of Storybrook more pliant to reason then traditions or sovereignty. Rhetoric trumped iron, and Belle soon found that she had (somewhere along the line) cultivated a silver tongue and penetrative stare. Who knew such a bookish little princess, made for cages and proper manners, could prove such an unexpected spitfire?
Perhaps, she often thought, that was Rumplstiltskin's gift to her. He claimed she gifted him with courage and a heart to hold such a frail light. In return, he had given her something of his cunning and darkness- enough to see and strike what dark intentions lurked unnoticed by many a naive good maiden. They were not made for one another, but they had made one into the other; he all of dark with this a marked heart of light, She all of light to center a small spot of dark. It was telling, how deeply he had become a part of who she was.
She was quick to shove such thoughts aside as well.
With so many of the town's traditional figureheads questing forth to parts unknown, there had been much to do to keep the town running smoothly and such would-be tyrannical forces at bay. They had moved quickly, Belle and her companions, and in the end, life continued on in the little town as it had for all of twenty-nine years. Shops opened each morning, children attended school, the hospital saw patients regularly, and Granny's diner remained ever busy (even if the inn was more or less vacant).
Sir Frederick and Ruby became joint members of the small police force, he as one of the few remaining knights of the old world still fit for service and she as one of the only remaining individuals with even marginal experience in running the station. Anton, for all his looming and intimidating size had proved a perfect replacement for the absent Mary Margret (though some accommodations to her classroom had been in order).
As for Belle, she had fallen, much to her bewilderment and consternation, into Regina's imposing old three inch mayoral pumps. Looking back, Belle could not even begin to fathom how it had happened. The best she could figure it had been an accident, some strange or cruel twist of circumstances (she would not call it fate!) that she could never have planned, not in a thousand lifetimes. It had begun so innocently too- Necessity proving the best catalyst to self innovation. And there had been a great deal of necessity in those first days following the new spell, so very much that needed to be done, she had never once stopped to consider the kind of precedent her actions might be setting. She had simply taken charge and forged blindly forward. She had been unable to sit still, to stop and think, lest her thoughts and fears be given a chance to catch up with her.
Belle had been surprised at first, heading a somewhat ragtag team of former heroes, to find that leading the group had come quite naturally. Like organizing the shelves of the library or cleaning the rooms of Dark Castle, it was all priorities and planning, something she had always been gifted at. Really, the only discernable difference was that she didn't have to do the work on her own. She had her friends there to help, to make her ideas better, more efficient and complete.
Before long all of her companions began to turn to her for direction, and one by one many members of the town followed suit. Overnight Belle found herself at the nexus of all major town happenings, plucked from relative obscurity and bodily thrust into the public eye so fast it made her head spin. Initially she had been all but beside herself. She had never considered herself much of a leader, and she certainly wasn't fond of the spotlight, but there had been simply too much to do and someone had to step up and do the right thing. It was not long before she was overseeing almost every aspect of Storybrook's daily affairs, conducting town halls, facilitating assemblies, litigating minor disputes and grievances, and so on. Within a mere month many citizens had begun bestowing upon her the moniker of madam mayor. Belle would never officially accept the position, feeling the title was undeserved (having been granted her without a proper election). Despite her best protests the moniker had stuck.
Mayoral duties aside, Belle continued to maintain the library, though the hours had to be cut back dramatically to accommodate her new responsibilities. She had also adopted Rumples business, what little of it she could understand, and oversaw the maintenance and upkeep of his properties as well as the settling of all rent contracts and loans. The Pawn shop remained closed for the most part, but at least once a month Bell would see to it that the shop was properly cleaned, going through the store with a discerning and critical eye until it was just about how she imagined he would want it, how he would keep it when he returned. If he returned…
She violently shoved such thoughts aside.
Between her obligations to the town, the library, and Rumples extensive properties, Belle found she barely had time for anything else. And quite frankly she was grateful. It kept her mind, and more importantly her heart, off of…other things. She tried not to think of them, of how their quest might be going and how they were fairing. If everyone was alright and when, or rather if, they would ever return.
She put it all aside- for her work. For her duties. For her sanity. For him. She forced herself aside.
And time pressed on...
