Notes: So, I've had some major computer problems lately. Plus, with no Rumbelle inspiration on my TV screen, it's been very hard to write. Just a little filler until the REAL stuff comes in next chapter. I had some inspiration from my own "Charming" to start writing again. I already started it! It's almost done! Please don't forget to review! As I said before, I will be responding to EACH AND EVERY comment left! THANK YOU!
~Spinning Roses~
-Chapter 7-
The deep, gray-gold eyes of Rumplestiltskin opened for the first time that day, as he was pulled out of a deep sleep by something pecking at his window.
It was early. He could tell, and after returning home from his travels late the night before, nothing seemed less appealing than to wake at this hour. In the end though, his irritation got the better of him.
He leapt out of bed and made his way to the windowsill- his hands in fists. Ripping the curtains aside, he found that the culprit of the wrenched sound was a small, bright-blue bird, and such a brilliant blue that the very sight of it reminded him of something, but he couldn't quite place what it was.
It must be something great. Perhaps something I made a deal for? A place I traveled? No… A certain potion, maybe? - he thought to himself- Ahh yes, but of course…
It was her eyes… Belle's.
Thinking nothing of it, he crouched down and met the fragile bird at eye level, which had stopped his pecking all at once. The bird looked into the eyes of the most powerful creature alive with a deep calm. It intrigued Rumplestiltskin, to say the least, and because of this, he chose to stay there, eyeing the bird.
He wondered silently to himself why the bird didn't fly away at the first sight of him. For what could such a pure thing possibly see in him that would make it stay?
He slowly put his finger up to the window, and as he did, the bird opened its wings to reveal a single, white feather on the inside of its right wing. It then closed its wings, ruffled its feathers, and closed its eyes.
It wasn't right. It wasn't natural. And it was for this simple reason that Rumplestiltskin had decided to rise to his feet and get ready for the day.
All magic came with a price… except when it was directed toward himself or used for his own selfish needs. He already paid his price just by living every day. He was cursed for all eternity. This was his payment, and in his opinion, he paid in full for every ounce of his magic every moment of his miserable life.
He could see the future of all, and that gave him a great advantage, but it was also the only kind of magic that had its own toll on him, because it hurt.
Peering into the "unknown" future of others took extreme focus and concentration, and it sent an electrical current down his spine that caused him to shut his eyes and shutter for a single, unbearable moment. He had only ever used it a few times, before his biggest deals.
Only once had it failed him, when he tried to use it in aid to finding his son. He had blamed his unsuccessfulness on the fact that he was in a different land, a different world. It was either that, or the fact that his son was just too emotionally close to him, for as it turned out, he himself, the ever-powerful Rumplestiltskin, could not see his own future.
He couldn't complain though. For as much as his power was his curse, it was also his salvation. He wouldn't be anything without it. But with it, he had the world at his fingertips. Even the greatest and most powerful of kings were on their knees, subjects to his power, and nothing could stop him. Nothing.
It was for this reason that he was able to get ready for the day with a simple flick of the wrist. Looking himself over though, he wasn't satisfied. But then again, he never really was with anything.
He was bound in a tight, dragon hide jacket, tied up at the sides with a set of thick laces. Only a blood red, silk shirt prevented the jacket from coming in contact with his bare chest. His usual leather pants, skintight all the way through, clung to his body as if it were almost a part of him somehow. And he wore black, dragon hide leather boots, laced almost the entire way up his legs.
He realized to himself that he felt too constricted. The leather jacket, as stylish as it may be, was too much. Even the undershirt was too dark. And his legs… his legs could not even move in these blasted boots! It was his usual attire. So why then, did he feel that it suddenly did not belong?
Frustrated, he tore off the jacket and shirt, discarding them onto the bed. He tried something else, but it yet again failed to please him. It wasn't until he had very large pile of forsaken shirts, vests, and jackets, that he came to like a certain medium gold shirt, entirely silk.
And since the shirt was silk, it gave the gold an extra shimmer. He tested the fabric in the light of a nearby lantern. Tilting his sleeve-clad arm at a majority of angles, he gazed upon the patterns of reflected light, dancing over the delicate material.
He then traded his constricting boots for something a little more reasonable. He decided to stick with his usual black leather, booted look, just with a considerably shorter pair.
Analyzing the changes, he realized that even though it was considerably more comfortable, it still lacked the certain je ne sais quoi of the infamous Rumplestiltskin. After all, he was the most powerfulbeing alive.
Vests and jackets were always his specialty touch, and he himself had forever been a fan of high collars. Thus, it was no surprise to him that he added a high collared, deep gold vest to his ensemble.
Checking himself over, he couldn't help but to realize that he was quiet fond of this new look. It wasn't his usual dark attire by any means. But still, he had to admit that looked almost… dashing… Well, as close as a forever-cursed monster with scaly gold skin and a wicked grin could come, anyway.
He almost had laughed thinking of what Belle would think of it. Though he was guessing she would very much approve after the initial shock had left her.
He had always admired gold, the look of it, the feel of it, what it meant in terms of power. He always fount it quite fitting that he himself would have such a physical and emotional connection with it. The curse had made sure of it. He had gold skin, golden eyes, and could even make his own gold from simple straw, just by spinning it at the wheel.
That was something that had always relaxed him, his spinning. The repetitive motions helped numb his mind, where he could almost forget. Forget his anger. His pain…
Content at last, he went back to the window, only to find that the little animal had gone. His face fell slightly, and he hated himself for it. Of course it was gone! He felt stupid to think otherwise.
He needed to wake up. He was groggy and thinking nonsense.
He took the stairs to reach the lower level of the castle. On a usual day, he would have simply popped himself down without another thought, but he needed to wake up. Stretch his legs. Be a little human for once.
"Pshh, human…" He muttered aloud, for he was anything but.
Author's note: Again everyone, I'm so sorry for the terribly long delay... truly I am. I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter! Please review and I will send you a PM with my thanks! Thank you!