Summary: Belle wants a teacher, Rumpelstiltskin is taken aback and reacts in the only way he knows how – by making a deal. Meanwhile, Regina makes her own bargain.
Warnings: One instance of coarse language
Chapter 2: Only Your Heart
Siiria was in big trouble. Papa was having a rather strict talk to her down in his study. Belle glanced at the door, knowing there was a knight standing vigil just outside. She bit her lip and tried not to think about anything much. Her hands trembled, so she clasped them together and pretended she hadn't noticed.
The necklace lay out on her dressing table, looking odder than she'd ever remembered in the firelight.
She recalled the reptile man's words, about the Dark One. Now Belle may have been young but she was no fool. It took her a little while, to be fair, but after some thought, she was now almost completely certain. The reptile man had been the Dark One. The realisation made her twist her fingers together and inch closer to the warmth of the fire. She remembered stories meant to frighten her from staying up late reading books. They were about Rumpelstiltskin, come to steal her for being naughty – scaled and brown, with big green and gold eyes and a vicious mouth.
She could hardly believe the creature of those nursery tales had saved her and then asked nothing in return – except that she keep the...magic, a secret. If she was honest, Belle was almost relieved at that. How would she have even begun to tell her Papa? Being little came with the advantage of getting into small places and listening to the adults talk about things that she would supposedly be told 'when she was older.' She knew what happened to magic-borns in the kingdoms. People, even Siiria, who was quite forthcoming in other topics (to the blushing chagrin of everyone else), spoke in tongues about it. The vagueness of the whole matter only helped in making Belle think it would be very horrible indeed, to have magic.
If Rumpelstiltskin hadn't cautioned her, Belle would have felt obliged to inform her dear father. She could see it all clearly: she'd be stuck in a carriage by now, riding in the night towards the border with the ogrelands, reaching some cabin at daybreak on the outskirts of the kingdoms and forced to hide there for eternity.
She had to admit, silence seemed wiser. Glancing back over her shoulder to look at her dresser, Belle eyed the necklace with as much intensity as she could gather in her weary mind.
Well, she had nothing else to do tonight except dread sleep and the dreams that would come with it.
Staring very hard at the necklace, rising and stalking closer, she whispered, "Come."
It didn't do much except maybe twitch a bit. Belle swallowed and placed both hands on either side of the circlet, palms flat on the dark wood and focused on the way light moved across the pearls, the sheen of the gold, the intricate detailing, the iron clasp and the slight rusting that had been there but was now gone, the way it sat in its velvet lined box –
Come.
Come where?
To my neck.
Then, watching with a very dry mouth and an odd dizziness, the necklace lifted itself into the air and drifted towards her. The clasp fell open of its own accord. The necklace stretched until it was a straight chain and then wrapped itself gently around her throat, as if aware of her trepidation. Belle pulled up handfuls of brown hair and felt the clasp click behind her then settle upon her skin with a familiar weight.
She caressed it. The necklace seemed to hum at the touch, like a dog being pet. It was an impossible idea. Necklaces weren't living. It was impossible. Wasn't it?
Belle looked at herself in the mirror, just to make sure. Yes, it was very obviously sitting around her neck.
Then she gasped, clutching her middle.
Darling, just a word perhaps? The man before, he touched me with magic. Maybe we should be careful – you shouldn't wear me too long.
The reflection of her face was enough to get her to stumble back from the glass and onto the bed. She'd never felt anything so bizarre in her life. As if her insides had hollowed out for a second, as if she was floating just an inch outside her body and where there had once been stomach and heart and lungs that filled with breath – there was nothing. Only...feeling. Only a whispering warmth, a touch of knowledge.
Like hearing words on the wind. Except there weren't really words. The necklace didn't speak. It had no mouth. It had no ears. No. It seemed to...communicate by simply being. She rubbed a thumb along her favourite pearl and thought, feeling supremely foolish if nothing happened:
You mean, Rumpelstiltskin?
"Hello, dearie."
She gasped, heart hammering away again. The reptile man stood with his back to her at the fire.
"You called me. I'll admit, I did think it would take you longer to figure it out," his voice was high, unpleasant in the way it jarred on the wrong parts of sentences. "You have questions."
Belle physically struggled for breath. To be pulled from her body and suspended in another place, and then dropped back to reality by that voice. Too much sensation for her to bear and she was glad she was already sitting.
Finding her tongue and sending a panicked glance at the door, she cleared her throat and tried to sound as polite as possible, "Yessir. I do, sir."
"Don't simper," he swung around, face dark with the light behind him, "It doesn't become you. Ask your questions."
Belle hesitated. Rumpelstiltskin inclined his head at the straining silence. He was all tension and sharp edges and fiddling fingers.
"The princess is afraid."
It seemed only right to at least attempt a retort. He laughed at her and smiled widely. Her fear pleased him more than her thanks. Belle looked him up and down, not that tall of a man, certainly not as tall as her father. She touched a finger to her necklace, unconscious of it until she chanced her reflection in the mirror.
"You don't like my magic on your mother's treasure."
Belle looked surprised but found that she couldn't disagree.
"Yet you called me."
"I didn't mean to."
He hissed. She flinched, waiting for punishment for her careless comment. A glow erupted behind her eyelids and she jerked up, Rumpelstiltskin was holding something in his hand. No, not something. Magic. A cerulean blue orb.
Her hand was already halfway towards it before she caught herself and rubbed it fretfully on her skirt instead. The Dark One didn't seem like he was going to curse her for her disrespect – because it really was disrespectful, saying that someone's magic was unwelcome.
And what was that?
Staring into the blue depths, where something was most definitely moving, she couldn't turn away. She took another step towards it and then retreated back three shuffling ones before Rumpelstiltskin caught her reluctant eye and nodded. Just once. A serious nod. Not even a hint of a laugh behind it.
He extended his hand and for moment, it was as if he would pass it to her.
"Can you teach me? Magic, I mean," the words were out before she even realised, just a hushed plea as she watched the firelight dance across the surface of that swirling, living mass. It was pulsing. A steady throb. She wanted to feel it. It would be warm, she was sure.
"Teach you," he said the words as if they were unfamiliar, in the same soft voice, "How?"
"Lessons," she mumbled, entranced by the thing in the centre – if she could just get a little closer, "Like my dancing master, or...or..."
She had her hands cupped around the sphere before she realised, just a feather away from touch, her nose hovering above it. Belle couldn't tell, was that white fire inside? She saw a flash of red. A comet! No. It was blood. Or was it shadow? The figure of a man, trapped inside?
Rumpelstiltskin tilted his head and surveyed her, eyes black and glittering with the image of his orb. Belle managed to peel her own away and found herself remarkably close to someone she was supposed to be afraid of. His eyes looked glassy. "And what will you give me in return?"
Belle licked her lips, "I don't know. What do you want?"
X
They both froze at that. Rumpelstiltskin was caught between wry amusement and mind blowing glee. Hadn't he always wanted a young magic-born to do as he pleased? [Since Cora] He knew this girl was worth keeping an eye on. The orb grew in size and instead of gasping and tottering back; Belle watched it expand around her fingers with open mouth and laughing eyes.
"It's like...warm honey," she murmured, "It tastes like oranges."
"Oranges." [Oranges?]
Regina would explode from jealousy if he turned up with a perfectly trained magic-born; obedient, young [Oh so young] and a princess to boot [Not actual princess but – semantics]
"Fresh snow, freezing water in the stream on a hot day. Burnt parchment."
[How is she feeling that?] Was that his magic? Yes, he watched it ripple over her small wrist. It was hypnotic. He was jolted out of the trance by a voice reminding him [She's unharmed] she was not burning from the touch. [Interesting] Even the Dark One hesitated in directly handling other people's magic. Repelling other people's spells and attacks was one thing, wilfully stepping into another person's essence was [Painful] costly. All magic had its price. Yet Belle was beaming now, staring into the depths and muttering.
He'd never seen that before. [Jealous]
"Take it," Rumpelstiltskin offered on a sudden whim [What?] She looked up and he almost took a step back. The girl seemed almost...[Trusting] pleased.
He released the orb and watched her attempt to juggle it, now so large it was twice the size of her head. It ran through her fingers like water, unsuccessfully uncontained in a cupped palm. The globe collapsed and liquid light poured into the air, like upending a bucket. The blue faded, greying before his eyes and turning into steam that rose and tickled his face, bringing with it a phantom wind.
It was warm. [Never done that before] Strange.
When all was gone, she sighed heavily and looked up, [Happy], expectant.
Oh yes...what deal would he broker in return for teaching her? What was it that the dear Queen did when she required loyalty in her subjects...
[No need for that. You'll only scare her away]
"What I want, dearie," he put out his right hand, palm up, "Is your heart."
Belle recoiled and instinctively placed two hands over her chest. At the closing off of her [Surprisingly] express face, he tried hard not to sag. To hide [Unwanted] slouching shoulders, Rumpelstiltskin giggled, "You can keep it inside you if it matters that much, dearie. I only need your hand."
"And you'll teach me how to use my...my magic," she said slowly, staring at the offered palm, and then at barely a whisper, "None can ever afford his price."
[She'll say no!]
"I'm not asking for jewels or gold or first born children," he wheedled, gritting his teeth as if all three had personally insulted him, "I only want your heart. Who else would you give it to? Your Papa, to keep in a box?"
[Unfurl fingers] Rumpelstiltskin stretched a hand that had momentarily curled into itself. He wanted to lunge across and grab her, cementing the deal. Instead, in an act of great [Kindness] patience, he settled for breathing at a casual pace. And waiting.
She blew up her cheeks and sucked on a corner of her lower lip, pondering.
[She'll say no. You'll have to force their hand. As always]
Belle placed her left in his right. [What?] Rumpelstiltskin stared for all of three seconds before he clasped her in a solid cage. [Quickly, before she changes her mind!]
They both stared as more blue light, icy this time, engulfed them. She sucked in a breath and tensed, but didn't withdraw. Rumpelstiltskin realised that the cold, [Intense cold], must be painful for her skin [Unscaled|Fragile]
Before the blue had even dimmed, he released her, unwilling to cause her more harm than necessary [Deal sealed by then, anyway]
She slid out of his hold and turned her palm over, inspecting the red blotches upon her flesh. [Cold burn] Then, with a guilty flick of her eyelashes, she shifted half her body away and reached for her chest. He knew she was checking to see if her heart was still there.
[It was]
X
Rumpelstiltskin quitted the castle of the Rochelle fiefdom and appeared in the foyer of his own. [Oranges? Really?] He was just unclasping the brooch of his heavy cloak and pushing through the double doors to the main room, with the wooden table he was rather fond of [Plain but practical] to find his usual seat occupied with a great expansive of black cloth and smug face [How predictable]
"I'll give you a moment to freshen up, shall I?"
"One only bothers for ladies," he strode by her picking at his nails. "To what do I owe the agony of your company – did you anger another goblin tribe?"
Regina threw him an ugly look [Sits much more comfortably on her face] and rose to her feet [Attempt to use superior height as weapon]
"I've come to ask for something you have," [Voice at her regal best. Ineffective. Have seen her at her weakest|Will never forget that unicorn|Had that been fear?|Or hopelessness?]
"And what would I get in return for this something?"
"My silence."
[Huh]
She stalked forward [Where's the drum beat?], "Rochelle, nice part of the kingdoms this time of year?"
He wrinkled his nose, "Not a great range of species to insult. You wouldn't like it," he feigned thought, "What exactly did you call the dwarves that one time? Ah yes, 'semi-skilled labourers'."
Regina swirled her cloak [Attempt at being dramatic. Failed] and perched on the table near Rumpelstiltskin. If she was a cat [She'd be more pleasant] she'd be bristling with rage. "I'll let you keep her."
"Were you under the impression you had the ability to take her from me?" Rumpelstiltskin sniggered. "Confident, are we?"
"Very."
"Unwise." [Very unwise|Presumptuous|Disrespectful]
"Not at all," she smiled [Definite family resemblance to Cora] "I own the Black Hunters."
"The highest bidder owns the Hunters," he scoffed. "They know no loyalty to Queens or Kings."
She laughed, a sound like cruel bells in cold wind, "They're not my subjects Rumpel, but the King's treasury is far handsomer than he ever was."
"Even a bought man has their pressure point," he returned a laugh of his own.
Regina retreated just an inch at the sight of his teeth. "It won't come to that. Not if you give me what I want."
[Oh yes, that]
"Graham?"
"He's here, I presume."
"You want me to part with my Collection."
"You don't need him," she ticked off a checklist in the air, "You don't use him."
"Not in the way you plan to."
Regina surveyed him, "But in the way you plan to use Belle."
[She spoke her name]
"Don't be crude, dearie, you wear it poorly," he wandered over to the wheel in the corner and turned his back. "And what use could you have with a tamed magic-born when you have your darling mother's book – well, my book, actually – and all our lessons together." [Memories that will always be cherished]
She didn't reply and he glanced over his shoulder to clarify, "Other than as a fuckbuddy of course."
"Don't be crude, Rumpel," she parroted, "Let's say I have need of a male counterpoint."
"You've found a female," he said slowly. [How had he missed that?] "Where."
"George's kingdom. Hiding in a hole, living off rats poor thing," Regina stuck out her bottom lip. Rumpelstiltskin grinned, triumphant.
"So, not a child then?"
Her pout disappeared and she pursed her lips, "Always so competitive. But it's not my intention to Collect a little girl," he looked unconvinced [Regina had been drooling for child's magic for a decade now], "Don't look so sceptical, Rumpel. Your little thing won't be of breeding age for years yet – and by that time, I'm certain I'll have one of my own."
[She couldn't really be...she was]
"You think you can breed them. Why not use one yours?" She did have Collected males of her own, after all.
Regina rolled her eyes and pulled out her fingers, flicking each one down as she listed, "Pyotr and Samson were the King's you know, they won't do. Laurence struggled too hard when I...well, his magic...he doesn't listen to me," she almost looked ashamed, before taking a deep breath and ploughing onwards, "John is older than I would like, Garrick went..." [Insane fighting her will] "He's not available either, and I gave Creon and Michael to King Midas because – I suppose you already know why."
He looked up from his spinning and humoured her with an emotionless smile. "So you'll have Graham. My only Collected, whatever will I do without him?"
"I'm certain you'll drown your sorrows in your new pet from Rochelle," she smiled back, equally as vicious in intent.
Rolling the wheel in silence, taking great joy in stretching it out until Regina was shuffling her weight from foot to foot, he finally said, "Your dreams of creating a magic-born army are only that, dreams."
"One can try," she hissed back impatiently, "Now hand me his magic. You're just as curious as I am about whether this will work. And I'll leave your shiny new toy alone for the time being."
[For the time being]
"Deal."
Rumpelstiltskin called forth Graham, a sandy haired man with an easy smile. Without looking up from his wool, he magicked forward a large glass bowl with matching lid, sealed shut with hot wax. Inside, a copper coloured substance that was not quite air and not quite liquid swirled, pulsed and breathed. Graham shot him a worried look, not yet aware of what was happening. Regina put on her brightest [Fakest] smile and stroked his cheek. Rumpelstiltskin demanded his magic-born to stay put and Graham didn't so much as flinch. [He would miss that compliance]
Then Regina reached for the bowl. When her fingers came in touch with the glass, Graham screamed. Still frozen with Rumpelstiltskin's command upon him, he yelled in pain and was unable to double over or sink to his knees.
[Hmm]
He'd forgotten about that part of Collection transfer. Something about breaking the bond with the original master leaving irreversible damage on a magic-born's soul.
[Regina's problem now]
I'm notorious for not finishing stories, as some of you probably know. So this time I've written 25 000 words already and I'll be posting a chapter every one or two days. Your reviews, favs and follows are my chipped cups :)