Long, frigid months in the gnarled, unforgiving clutches of old man winter passed in the realm betwixt the snowy mountains where master and slave, teacher and student, dwelled. Bitter cold desolated all upon the jagged peaks and stony crags save for the gray castle tucked away like a gray jewel in the midst of the mountains.
As time crawled along in the morose winter days, so too did the beauty's power grow in skill. Every new dawn wrought a new ability she would nary have imagined before in the strict, logic dominated, court of her father. Water transmuted to fire, dust could be swept away in a languid wave of the hand and the discovery of magical items that littered the world awed her senses.
Through it all, the Dark One stood at her side always patient and watchful of her gifts. He was never without finding a flaw in her spells or her magic weaving or even tearing a new web of incantations apart and making her do the entire thing over, but he was not cruel in his strict observances. Accolades were rare but given just the same like bibelots interwoven with his astringent criticisms.
Her work was hard and oft tedious but she enjoyed the labor and the cunning it took to manage the power so long brewing within. With every success the magic in her crowed with delight and jolted her to greater heights.
Though hate for him and his arduous demands should have surged through her veins in a tide of boiling oil, she enjoyed when she properly learned a spell and he congratulated her on her growing prowess.
Fear did not rear its abhorrent head when the master lurked about over her shoulder watching her progress or brought forth his magic to entangle with her own when she struggled. She was not disgusted by his scaled skin near her as she practiced evocations with him, but more intrigued and curious when her mind could wander a bit from the tasks at hand. Had a spell gone awry to make him look like such? Was she in danger of turning like that once her power was mastered and matured?
He could be snapping at times when he thought she was not dedicating herself enough to a particular work and still she felt not a niggling of loathing or fear or disgust. Many a time she stifled giggles at his flamboyant ire, sensing more mocking, playful anger than true wrath.
Yes, if she knew anything, it was that she did not hate Rumpelstiltskin nor abhor his teaching. Which begged the question, what did she think of him?
~8~8~
A tired sigh brooked past Belle's lips as she flicked open the thick oaken door and stumbled into her dark cell. The old straw, mottled dull gray and gold, seemed a heavenly berth as she plopped down in the comfortable heap like a heavy sack. Golden stalks flurried about in a storm of straw as she nestled down.
Though the Dark One had not ordered her to her cell, the cage was her only private room where at the very least he allotted her a modicum of privacy. Partially in jest, he long ago dubbed the foul prison 'her room' and indeed treated the dungeon as such.
Pain throbbed dully in her skull as she laid her chestnut head down gingerly into the bale dirty straw. Squeezing her eyes tight against the small slants of light seeping into her room from the tiny squat window above, Belle rubbed her temples delicately to assuage the agony.
Forging magical runes, their more arduous lesson and her least favorite, was a hard task. Magical wards, as Rumpelstiltskin showed, had to be erected by magic then 'written' as it were by the same puissant power, then placed upon an item. Though penning a rune was strenuous, the sigils were extremely powerful and could lay dormant for centuries. Ink could not be used, but pure magic turned into a physical inscription.
Rumpelstiltskin had even allowed her to view the wards he carved into the mountain sides and on the treacherous trail that led to his domain to keep curious visitors away and dissuade errant knights of quests for fame and glory by trying to lob off his head and skewer it to a spike.
If a hapless soul made it past the terrors of the perilous peaks un-flagged by strain and fatigue and not torn to bloody rags by the bitter winter winds, they would be forced to stumble about the traps he so cunningly laid.
Poisoned spikes surfaced from the ground when one of the icy stone was walked upon while another released a ravenous yeti when another living soul was detected. Boulders crashed from impossible places of seeming serenity, unnatural storms of bitter sleet and jagged shards of ice raged rained down from all sides, and even avalanches all happened at his behest with the dark purple runes craved by his hand.
After she had mastered the simplicities of the craft he ordered her to mark her own sigil at the massive doors of the castle. Of course she had been wary to put such a sigil to cause harm anywhere, but then again, her powers were not lethal and if someone could pass his runes unharmed then hers would be but a tickle.
So pleased had the master been by her near perfect showing of her crimson rune magic, he allowed her the rest of the time in the library. Relentless though he was, he was not bereft of allowing her rewards for a job well done.
Smiling lightly at the thought, the beauty reached under the mass of straw and brought forth the book she had managed to sneak from the library unnoticed by her usually observant master.
Normally he would wander about the library with her, hands folded behind his back, looking at nothing particular, but keeping an eye upon his bumbling apprentice when she scaled the tarnished brass ladders or tried to summon a book down. Part of her amused mind thought it almost chivalric how he always tried to surreptitiously keep an eye upon her.
A laugh nearly tumbled past her lips, but then again the side reared upon cold logic that always thought otherwise dried the merriment upon her tongue like a sour taste of a bitter brew. Why would he care about her personal safety beyond what her life meant to him? She was valuable property and he was perhaps making certain she wasn't damaged.
Tossing the conflicting thoughts away, Belle focused back upon the book she would have most likely been denied in taking away from the store of writings had he been there to watch her.
The tome was covered in pale silvery leather, almost like a sickly white underbelly of some beast. A small red tassel dangled from the end of the book, a startling contrast to the drab milky hue.
Clever fingers smoothed about the dull edges as though pondering the tome with her soft fingertips. No marking or title engraved upon the face or upon its ridged spine giving a clue to its contents.
Flourishing her hand thoughtlessly, the beauty summoned forth a host of candles upon the gray stone floor and the ugly squat window high above with careless ease. Orange and yellow flames once paltry and sputtering flared to life in bright luminance turning the dimness into a menagerie of lights. Dark shadows cavorted about the coarse stone walls as she snuggled down into her bale of straw for a clandestine session of reading.
Gray dust fell from the aged pages as Belle creaked open the book stealthily. A quiet sneeze shuddered through her as she did her best to remain silent in case he might hear her and think something amiss. The book was a vastly important one, she knew, one perhaps he may not have wanted her reading on her lonesome.
Her sweet voice was barely above a whisper as she read the first line. "Invisibility: The Supreme Art of Espionage."
A thrill shivered through her galloping blood as she greedily read the almost blurred black words upon the faded yellowed pages. The script etched upon the fragile parchment seemed as though it wished to disappear itself. Latent magic thrummed from the book, dictating its power lied dormant for centuries.
While she had no desire to scrounge away secrets from her master, she wished to learn a few things on her own. Despite their lessons and his nearly kind treatment of her she wished to show how she could learn things on her own without his guiding hand watchful eyes.
Yes, if she could display her prowess to actually surpass his teaching then that would be a boon to them both!
The tallow candles Belle summoned in her cell sputtered drearily in their last few flickering of light. So enraptured in the hidden intricacies of the tome, the beauty only noticed the time had flown by as she found no more words to read upon the last page. Without her lessons the tome would have been meaningless drivel, but endowed with the arts of the arcane she understood perfectly as though born to naturally comprehend the workings of the complicated spell.
A wide smile perched unbidden to her lips as she shut the book. Dust disrupted from the pages billowed through the air in a flurry of filth at the action. Bidding the grime away with but a thought the beauty hefted the heavy tome happily.
Embers of eagerness flared in her indigo eyes as she ran her delicate hand over the book and flicked a strand of golden straw from its bound hide. If she could do such a spell without his aid or knowledge then she could far surpass what he thought even capable of now!
"Very well." Belle spoke strongly to the blackness as she tucked the book away under the pile of straw. "Let's see if this works."
Lifting her hands to the blackness, she seemed akin to an orchestra maestro addressing the magic and the darkness about her. Waving her spell worked fingers coaxingly; the beauty gathered the air in her cell about her as though tempting it to her beck.
The last pathetic flames of the candles winked out with only a tendril of gray smoke wafting to the ceiling as she called the air to heed her powers alone. Wind gleefully harried to her call, whirling about her with its silent tongue and whispering the nothings gathered upon the currents of air. Thin tendril of crimson magic snaked through the wind gliding over her limbs and tousling her hair wildly. Her hands, heavy with magic, worked as though making an imaginary cloak of out thin air.
Magic boiled hotly in her veins, churning her blood in a rampant gale. She knew she could do the spell if simply for the fact the ichors in her veins screamed she could.
Closing her azure depths she focused on the magic she had forged and laid the magic like a mantle upon her shoulders. Cold whispered through her bones with the cruel bite of the wind. Not only had she put the air about her to mask her body, the wind flowed through her as though she were not even tangible sending her figure doused with chill.
Without even summoning a mirror, she knew she was invisible. Keeping her teeth from chattering the beauty reveled in her frosty achievement. Without his aid or advice she had preformed a masterful piece of magic all by herself.
Gladness bubbled in her heart as she reveled in her victory. Flicking her hand with half a thought the iron banded door creaked open. Her steps were as shadow strides as Belle began to thread her way through the drafty corridors.
Gladness roared in her heart as she winded her way down the halls without stirring a candle flame. Oh wouldn't Rumpelstiltskin be more than surprised when he saw what she had wrought in only a few hours!
~8~8~
Greenish brown steam wisped in heavy billows from the iron cauldron burning in the Dark One's apothecary. The hazy vapors trailed lazily to the trapped dragon above wreathing the ancient bones of the creature in the sickly mists.
A chalky, yellow powder rested in a mortal and pestle on the far right end of the mantle over blazing hearth. Potions and regents lined the stone shelf above the roaring fire awaiting use from the monsters hand.
The already slovenly laden tables were strewn with hastily scribbled notes on vellum ends and vials nearly empty to their dredges in a frenzy of experimentation.
Rumpelstiltskin stared intently upon the acrid bubbling cauldron stewing with magical regents. Wortseyes, spiderhair, wolfvenom, waters from a stream that ran backwards, bone marrow from a three hundred year old hag, the feathers from a gryphon, and much more all stewed rankly in the black pot.
Eagerness and expectation danced rabidly in his onyx orbs as he watched every syrupy, green bubble pop sending another ribbon of noxious vapor into the drafty air and the vicious green ooze churn upon itself with unrest. His scaled face glowed in an eerie deathly parlor of pallid green, his skin skimmed by the acrid, hazy steam like the hands of a caressing lover.
Another turn of fate had allowed him to breakthrough the tangled mystery of a potion he had been plying his hands at for centuries! Such a discovery on his part had not occered in half a century. A faint smile pecked at his lips as he plucked up an iron enchanted ladle and dared give the concoction a tenuous stir. A flash of green magic erupted from the hazardous brew but simmered down a moment later as though angry for being touched.
Cackling in glee the Dark One did his best to refrain from an impish skip of happiness. The potion before him could very well be the one to finally have the one of the most powerful elixirs he had never made: a potion to mimic death but not truly kill.
Abruptly the bubbling mixture began to churn more violently. The fiend stepped back, his smile wide, as the magic finished the last stage of the tonic. What once was green slowly began to mutate colors. The liquid roiled and churned violently before letting forth a foamy substance of vermilion. The boiling stopped as though cold leaving only a syrupy liquid in the pot and the foam it had wrought.
"Yes." The fiend hissed lowly, his normal falsetto timbre tinged with dark triumph.
Plucking up a glass vial with a pair of wrought iron tongs, he carefully dipped the glass container only enough to gather the crimson foam. If he mingled even a drop of the liquid with the foam the potion would be ruined and he certainly did not have all the fabled ingredients on hand to start anew should he fail.
Carefully, ever so carefully, the fiend filled the bottle, his hand as certain and unwavering at stone. Breathless, he marveled at the blood-like foam conjured by his genius. Regina would snap up the poison in a heartbeat and use the venom when the time was right. The dastardly woman was easily goaded along with the prod of vengeance.
As he drew up the thick phial in an instant he knew he was not alone. Another breath, another heart beat drummed in his midst in an erratic tattoo. Could someone have finally found a way to seek his demise at one of the most important times in all his long years?
Instinctively the Dark One twirled about, all else forgotten but his survival. The vial cracked and tumbled away into the embers. Ruby liquid hissed into the bickering flames and wrought forth a foul steam as he eyed the nothingness.
"I know your there." He snarled like a cornered beast. Dredging magic to his blood he sent out a pulse of his power to banish any other power.
Surprise clenched his heart with icy claws as he saw his apprentice appear in a haze of fading crimson power. Curiosity and wariness glimmered upon her visage as she realized what he had done to dispel her guise.
Anger melted the frost in his heart like a wave of fire as he realized what she had done and how she had done it. She had become invisible and infiltrated his apothecary when he wished to be alone.
So used to her company he had grown lax in his alert. She had stolen into his sanctum like a master thief and he'd only known at the last moment! How long had she been watching? How long had she lingered like a shadow upon the gray walls dictating the recipe to heart?
"How dare you spy upon me!" Rumpelstiltskin roared manically toward the beauty, his temper leaping to life with the fire of wrath. Hard steps echoed like thunderclaps about the large room as he towered over her in a pillar of fury. "I graciously allot you time for your own and you use those precious hours to skulk about like a rat and peer at my doings!"
This was what happened when he allotted her little freedoms, or so the darkness milling in him whispered. An advantage, that was all anyone, even her, sought in life to achieve and gather as much power and influence as possible.
"I'm sorry." The surprised beauty backed away tremulously, her steps flagged with terror. Fear painted her face a pallid hue. Never had she witnessed him so enraged. He had his moments to be sure, but nothing as what was before her. There was some evil and murderous in his onyx eyes, something that whispered her immediate, gory demise with one wrong word or look. "I…I read up on an invisible incantation. I just wanted to try it out. I was coming to show you." Belle explained anxiously. "Why…why are you so upset? You're always encouraging me to learn new spells."
She had only walked in at the last minute of his spell upon finding the door unlocked. By the time she fully slipped in she had just watched him pull out another potion like she had seen him do many a time. What had he been doing to rouse him to such wrath at her presence?
"Centuries I've worked upon this potion and your bumbling has ruined the elixir!" He growled blackly, his eyes peaked with rage. "I'll have to scrounge the realms again to find the regents you foolish girl!"
Faltering words stumbled past her leaden tongue. "I…didn't…I didn't know."
"Of course you didn't!" He turned his back upon her, his ire no less quelled. Incensed at her gall, he flourished his hand dramatically. "Oh but you just needed to find out; another chance to see if you could find a weakness to the Dark One!" She had invaded upon a vastly private matter and seen things she should not have. How long as she been tucked away in his apothecary looking on upon what regents and certain charms he had mingled in the pot?
Staring at the mess of running foam and broken glass, anger bubbled within like the contents of the pot. She needed to learn a lesson on snooping!
"Let's see if a week in the dungeon can dampen that relentless curiosity!" Snarled the Dark One, his temper overriding all reason.
Snapping his wiry talons he summoned the furious magic to his demands. The silver inscribed collar hummed to life effectively stifling her power from coming forth to her demand. Hobbling her magic was only one part of the punishment, but perhaps the worst.
Grisly satisfaction tinged a thin, rueful smile as the beauty disappeared in a spurt of lilac stained power.
For too long he had been dropping her scraps of kindness and looking over faults with a blind eye. She was so unassuming in her demeanor and the ways she seemed willing to learn. He did not think to keep such a critical eye upon her as he had done Regina or her dreaded harpy of a mother. Those he had fully expected to betray him at the slightest opening in his armor, but he felt no such compunction with Belle.
She was not the deadliest serpent he had dealt with but perhaps the most dangerous. Her fangs possessed no venom and her scales not strong enough to constrict, but she had stealth and guile on her side. He could not detect her or truly gauge her intentions.
There had to be ground rules from now on. Boundaries had to be erected and his eyes unwavering from her in case of treachery. His demise meant her freedom after all.
"I shall have to make the warning perfectly clear." He rumbled beneath his breath. "She will know after wallowing in the dungeons bereft of any comfort and kept away from her magic what it means to cross the Dark One and how worse things can be!"
~8~8~
Fury roared like an inferno in his burning heart as he stomped down the slimy stone stairs to the dungeon. The torches sat in their stone scones cold and dead, but it mattered not. His magically endowed sight more than made up for the thick darkness pressing about him with smothering shrouds.
Oh yes, he raged inwardly, a snarl etched upon his lips, she would soon know her place and know her little tricks could not avail her against his cunning thoughts. He would threaten to skin her alive if need be if she ever tried to spy upon him again!
Stopping at the door to her cell, the Dark One stared to fling the door open with a languid wave of his hand. The sound of sniffling and chattering teeth abruptly made him quell the scalding burn of magic in his blood.
Turning the magic from the door to his sight he peered past the thick targ of wood.
The beauty curled against the furthest corner in her fetid prison. Her flesh was ashen and pallid with chill. Not a stalk of straw laid upon the coarse stone straw and the moldering blanket was no where to be found. Cold wafted bitterly through the dungeon assailing her flesh with its gnashing bite down to her bones. Warm tears streamed her face before cooling from the snap of the cold.
In his fury he had taken every small comfort from her, everything that might have made the dungeon feel something akin to a meager home.
Guilt involuntarily knotted like a lumpy boulder in his throat. Hands of shame wrenched his black heart cruelly to see her miserable and afraid of some fate for angering her master. Perhaps she had been true in her words and he had merely lost his temper.
She had no knowledge of potions yet, what need was there to spy? But then she had learned an invisibility spell by herself.
Indecision doused the anger storming in his soul. A dark frown pulled at his lips as he banished the seeing magic away. Mayhap he should not have been so strict and unforgiving or unwilling to hear her words. Perhaps he should have tried to be reasonable.
For a moment he nearly summoned her little luxuries back determined to make amends with his servant. It was not too late to undo what he had done and hear her out. Perhaps they could even patch what had been ripped by their mistakes.
Darkness snapped upon his moment of weakness like a surly dog. His hand fell back limply to his side, uncertain upon what to do. No, if to give her back her little smatterings of comfort would show even an inkling of weakness it could not even be chanced to be allowed. He would never be weak again, never show a hint of frailty.
And yet…
~8~8~
Tears brimmed the beauty's azure eyes as she stared into the darkness of her prison. The tears were not coaxed forth from his pernicious wrath or her stupidity in thinking he would be impressed. No, her tears were not for fear of his anger or ashamed of what she had done. What he had done brought the stinging tears unbidden to her eyes.
She had tried to summon candles or even a blanket, but her powers would not heed her call. In the moments of his fury he had shown something he should not have; a secret she had not known and though did no exist.
Angered, with but a thought he had cut off her powers with the silver collar about her neck. While the magic surged and clawed painfully at her soul and roiled in her blood to be free, the power of the torque kept it at bay closing the flow completely.
He had told her when she had been wary to latch the collar on the magic would be merely held in check, that she would have full control and the collar would simply give her a medium to let the magic flow without overwhelming her. Eyes full of truth, he had lied through his teeth to achieve his ends. Oh he hadn't lied per say, but he had so failed to mention he could cordon off the power at anytime he chose.
Pain leapt cruelly in her body with each moment the magic was not allowed to simply be free. Her head spun in painful waves of agony as the magic seemed to wish to claw out of her. An entire week of the magic bottled up without anywhere to turn accept upon her caused her to flinch. A single tear trailed down her face at the agony that was to come.
Whatever she had done by her egregious error she was to pay the price and perhaps more. Who knew how deep the depths of his fury delved.
Forehead resting her drawn knees, she huddled for warmth and tried to soothe the raging magic within. She would apologize for the mistake when he let her out but nothing more. He should not have lost his temper for such a mistake.
Abruptly the perfume of warm raspberry tea danced upon the cold air. Warmth filled her as the aroma distilled into the air. The scent seemed to soothe the pulsating in her mind adding tranquility to her magic. The fragrance seemed to very well calm the rabid magic in her mind quelling the pain to nothingness with but its aroma.
Surprised, the beauty tiled her head upwards, following the scent of tea like an invisible trail. Confusion flashed in her azure gaze at the sight left for her.
Settled on gilt, silver tray, a blue and white tea cup and the steaming pot sat by the door waiting for use.