AN: Thanks to everyone who is reading this, and especially to you folks who have commented - seeing comments come through are a little bright spot in my day...so thanks!
I'm really enjoying piecing this multi-chapter fic together - even though the process is happening quite slowly. LIKE THEIR LOVE . Also, there is more ooey-gooey fluffy dramatic stuff coming later I swear.

Chapter 4

After two weeks in the castle, Belle was not any closer to understanding the mysterious man to whom she had voluntarily signed away her life. If anything, she was finding him more of a contradiction each day.

While he never volunteered his help, she had found after the incident with the silver that he was quite generous with his time when asked, and not at all opposed to explaining things to her in great detail. Teaching seemed to come naturally for him. She was also finding that her earlier belief that he was taking enjoyment from her failures and miseries seemed have been a bit unfair. It wasn't that he didn't like harassing her – he definitely enjoyed seeing her flustered and frustrated, and he put great effort into keeping her off balance, frightening her with threats of the kind one would expect from a monster of his caliber – but he seemed to have a limit at which it stopped being fun. At least, he hadn't followed through on any of his threats, and Belle was starting to pick up on a certain timbre of his voice and a particular manner he had of flourishing his hands that she thought might be his signs that he was trying to make a joke.

Most shocking, though, was the fact that he didn't seem to claim this teasing as only the master's prerogative; not that Belle had yet worked up the courage to make a true frontal assault, but she'd tested the waters. She asked questions, challenged him to give explanations for his instructions, suggested better ways of getting things done. He seemed to find it amusing when she said something clever, or asked pointed questions, or challenged his methods. He enjoyed the banter – even if he never really let her get the upper hand.

Either way, it was a relief to know that he didn't expect or require her silence. The cautious conversations they had were making her days infinitely more bearable.

The only time she was still afraid to speak to him was when he was spinning.

When he sat down to the wheel, he changed. His face dropped the theatrical mask he usual wore, and his hands ceased their quirky fiddling and flourishing – their movements became slow and elegant, as though he were remembering a dance he had once known by heart, and his fingers were moving to the music. He could sit there for hours, lost in the pattern, seeming miles and decades away from the dark castle that was now his home. The spell it cast over him was something she was unwilling to break.

She had waited one afternoon for several hours for him to finish before asking him a question, loitering about in the halls outside the dining room pretending to be dusting. Earlier that morning he'd set her to cleaning out the hallways in the northern tower, and she'd uncovered something to which she desperately wanted access.

When she finally heard him stand, she waited a moment, and then walked in as casually as she could.

"What is it you want to ask me for, dearie?" he said, not looking up from the scroll he was examining at the table.

She frowned. Was she that obvious? "What do you mean?"

He looked up, and wagged a finger at her, but his voice was teasing "You, my dear, are not very good at deceptions. Nor do they suit you. Also, I've heard you rustling in the hallway for at least half an hour. Out with it."

Belle swished over, frowning at being found out, and sat across from him.

"Up in the north tower, when I was cleaning today, I found….a room."

"That's not surprising, dearie. This is a castle."

"A library" she said shortly, "I want to know….well, I'd like to see if it's alright…can I use it?"

"What, for reading in?"

"Um…yes."

"It's a library, dearie, that's what it's for."

She raised her eyebrows, still looking uncertain, and he put down the scroll and stared at her, bemused.

"Your unconventional housekeeping methods aside" – she frowned at him– "our deal was that you would be the caretaker of this estate. With the exception of my private rooms in the west tower, you have free reign. Don't throw anything away, and try to destroy as little as possible, but other than that it's your responsibility to care for the estate." He waved his hand dismissively, looking back to his papers "Use whatever you'd like."

"I didn't realize." she said warmly. "Thank you"

He looked back up at her to find her beaming at him. He looked uncomfortable, but made an effort to smile back quickly and nodded at her. It must be unusual for him, she thought – delighting people instead of frightening them.

She thought for a moment.

"And…..well, there's something else…"

"Ah, keen to push your luck today?"

"I'm even worse at not pushing my luck than I am at deceptions, as you of all people should realize." She said, and he quirked an eyebrow at her, a small smile turning at the corner of his mouth. "It's just that…well, I didn't really get a chance to pack before I came here, and this dress really isn't practical for everyday…." she looked down at her gold confection of a gown, now watermarked and torn beyond saving. "There are a few things I need that I haven't been able to find here, and I was hoping…."

She looked up at him and faltered.

His eyes were wide. Oh god, if she thought he'd looked uncomfortable before…now he looked completely out of his depth. He seemed shocked….almost, embarrassed? Maybe she really had pushed her luck too far, asking him for clothing…

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have presumed to…"

He cleared his throat, interrupting her. "Make a list" he said, suddenly very interested in his hands "of whatever you need. I'll take care of it tomorrow when I'm in town."

"Thank you" she said quietly, and she left as quickly as she could without seeming rude, leaving him hunched over his papers.