A/N: Much love for reading and reviewing, you guys are awesome :3
~8~8~
Brimstone snorted in aloof happiness, sending a churning cloud of soot billowing into the air, as Rumpelstiltskin finished brushing the beasts coarse midnight hide that was still damp with night dew from gallivanting across the realms with its mistress.
The unearthly horse swished its ethereal tendrils of misty ebony tail and stamped its mulled crimson glowing hooves, revealing his contentment with being dotted upon.
"The Devil's Steed." Rum murmured sarcastically in an amused snort as he rolled his warm chestnut eyes.
He had learned from a few tomes, Belle allowed him to take from the library, the whispered moniker was one name superstitious peasants dubbed the ancient stallion, though Rum had come to learn rather quickly it was not an apt name by any stretch of the imagination.
A ghost of a smile pecked at his lips as he flicked a stray bur from the fearsome looking beast's spidery mane. " You're more like a spoiled, prancing pony than a beast torn from nightmare."
Legend had been long enshrouded about the battle craving, blood thirsty horse, with charcoal pits for eyes, born of a blasphemous pact in the midst of a moonless night harnessing the pure strength of evil. The tales often spoke of the untamable, rabid, fearless stallion daring enough to chase thunder from the heavens as it broke its bindings of flame and galloped from the gates of Tartarus with its would-be tamers being dragged behind or trampled under its ember glowing hooves.
Ironically, however, the magical horse was little more than a normal steed who was admittedly, a bit spoiled and had an unabashed penchant for sweets and liked to take to many naps when not in service to its crazed mistress.
"You served our mistress well." He stated cheerily as he patted the beast, proudly on its muscled shoulder.
Per usual, the sinister stallion rolled its flaming cinder eyes that emanated a fiery orange radiance and tossed its head as though it already knew such and was merely humoring the human that his mistress owned.
Although, Rum had no clue what the devilish beast tried to communicate, he liked to draw conclusions by the way it snorted or pawed at his words. The meek spinner grinned broadly as he ruffled the patch of thick mane tapered from behind its twitching ears. "Well enough, I think, to deserve a handful of sugar cubes." He jested with a slight chuckle.
At the mention of the one thing all horses, conjured of dark magic or no, adored, the hulking beast snorted in approval and seemed to finally beam at the spinners praise.
"I see you've lost your fear of Brimstone." Belle pointed out with an amused tone, a small smirk gracing her flawless features. "It's amusing to think the first days of tending him you looked like a frightened rabbit caught in front of a starving wolf."
The spinner's head shot up to see his mistress leaning nonchalantly against the stable threshold, her arms crossed upon her flamboyant black and crimson silken blouse as she stared not tenderly but definitely not crazed at slave and stallion.
Shrugging laconically, Rum turned his eyes down out of habit as he collected the tools from brushing down Brimstone after one of his mighty gallops throughout the realms.
He could only imagine the abject terror as the animal, looking as though it had charged from the eternal pits of hell, came thundering into sight in all its nightmarish glory with the Dark One riding upon it; nostrils flaring and churning oily black smoke and eyes rolling madly.
If only others knew how utterly spoiled and haughty Brimstone acted, he was certain fear would be replaced with amusement at the steeds dramatic entrances.
"When you get to know someone it's easy to see what lies beneath what you once thought terrifying." He explained gently while he put the last tool away upon the stone selves.
His words were spoken in a tempered, soft timbre that made Belle ponder was he talking of her charger or her.
The beauty nodded faintly at his perceptive wisdom and expertly hid a grin behind her neutral features that would have revealed her ever growing fondness for her Rum.
Mistress and slave slowly meandered up the now well trodden path that led to the Dark Castle from the stables. Usually, the gorgeous Dark One would have scolded him, if still in jest, for dragging his feet to his duties, but knowing what would come when the full moon had risen in the folds of the diamonds firmament Belle chose to taper her pace to a leisurely crawl that he diligently matched.
Hands folded behind his back, Rum watched the dust of summer coat over his boots and a few intrepid ants scurry busily through the cracks sprawled along the trail.
Around the path, pink and red roses that bordered the dirt trail had oddly begun to bloom. The blossoms languished about them with every step as if silently begging to be plucked and adorned where they could be displayed in their simple beauty.
At the first sign of their appearance the spinner deduced they must have not blossomed in many a season for when the buds of pea green hue had first begun to rise over the choking weeds that sunk deep into their roots and strangled the stems, both Belle and Brimstone had been surprised to see dots of pink and crimson along the entangled scratching growth.
One that dipped perilously in the pathway caught Rum's eyes right as he'd been about to trample it. Without missing a step he bent to snatch it from the ground and snapped a lower portion of the stem in one smooth motion; his dexterous finger nimbly dodging the prickly thorns.
Drops of morning dew still flecked upon its velvet petals and its fragrance was a delirious mix of loamy earth and rain.
"A token, if you'll have it, mistress." Rum stated suddenly as he proffered the ruby red rose to his owner.
Belle halted her ponderous track to admire the lovely offering of the crimson tinted flower by her timid slave who bowed subserviently to her while holding out the lovely rose.
Her cobalt orbs at once caught that he was nervous, wary even, of the gesture so bold and spontaneous, that her full lips twitched upward at his effort. "Why thank you, Rum. I find it rather appealing." She admitted truthfully as she plucked it from his hand and in turn bobbed a small curtsey to his bow.
His cheeks burned in embarrassment at her thanks, but he sought to hide it as he cleared his throat nervously and scuffed a few pebbles and grit at his feet while they continued to stroll along.
Belle nearly, put her hand under his rough unshaven chin and leveled his immersing chocolate brown eye to her starling azure orbs and hugged him for the thoughtful gesture. Nearly.
Disturbed by the sudden thoughts of doing something so unlike the Dark One, which was she now wholly and forever, the dangerous fiend managed an insipid smile as she nudged her head along the winding path. "Hurry along to the Castle and have breakfast out for me and a steaming pot of tea. I'll be along shortly. I have a busy day."
"As you say, mistress." Rum replied dutifully; glad to be able to escape the silent consideration of her cobalt gaze.
Once he had trudged up the snaking path and was out of sight, Belle leaned against a shading beech tree that bowered some of the path under its leafy canopy.
Holding the token close, a faint smile tugged at her lips as the beauty rolled the stem of the rose in-between her fingers before sniffing its subtle aroma appreciatively and stroking the wondrously soft petals of ruby; pondering what to make of the impromptu gift.
~8~8~
"So the two fools actually killed the goose, thinking it had more gold inside than one egg per day!" Belle gave a brief mirthless chuckle as she quickly jotted something down on a piece of vellum. "And to think they wanted me to give them another!"
Lying upon the main hall table before the sinister beauty sat instruments of magic and destruction of all sorts, ready to be used late in the night for her ritual. Regents bobbed inside wooden bowls and things snapped and chattered angrily in glass jars along side objects that blinked and glared at the powerful woman and her slave.
Oddly enough as well, the rose remained upon the table in a tall lavender hued vase, looking regal and elegant cresting above the scattered magical regents like the one beacon of goodness left amidst the foul objects upon the table.
Now used to witnessing far stranger sights in the Dark Castle, such mystical paraphernalia hardly caused a sliver of intrigue to the former spinner while he bent to his duties.
The servant turned his head slightly to his mistress while he absently worked upon his task of polishing a few of her silver trinkets that were grime ridden and tarnished with age and misuse. A grin of amusement bloomed upon his features as he rolled his shoulders in a shrug. "Are you certain they were peasants, mistress? They sounded more akin to greedy nobles to me."
The former spinner always enjoyed hearing recollections of Belle's adventures and exploits as she tromped waywardly across the realms causing mischief and chaos in her wake while she struck bargains or dealt deals with the conniving and desperate.
"Gold and power can quickly transform people, Rum." Belle retorted absently as she scratched another marking upon slew of papers before her.
While Rum had learned to decipher the writ upon the many tomes in her library, what she wrote was in a different tongue. The language of magic.
"Hand me that dagger you just polished, will you, Rum." The Dark One ordered as she looked over her work to point at the gleaming dagger laying a small ways from her slave.
The blade was small and nondescript insofar as Rum could tell, though when he had first picked it up to give it a good clean it had felt almost writhing in his hand like a deadly serpent even though it remained prone and cold in his hand.
Nodding, the spinner handed the dagger to her and padded back to his task though stifled a shiver as he wiped his hand on his tan tunic as though it had been plunged through foul muck.
Hefting the blade, Belle gazed sternly at her reflection. Her azure eyes flashed in a sharp glint that match the icy steel as a small smirk festered upon her lovely features. As many times as Regina had come sashaying through her palace, her piggish greedy teal eyes studiously scanning for the famed blade that had given Belle power, she had never found it even though it was always hidden in plain sight; veiled as just another trinket collected upon her deal doings.
Chuckling at her cleverness, the sordid Dark One pulled the mystical glass vial, garnered from Merlin's tower thanks to Rum's distraction, in front of her before opening her free palm and using the razor sharp dagger to slice a long horizontal slash through her porcelain flesh.
Only a wince of pain whispered from her lips as her rose tinted essence erupted from her palm and oozed into the magical vial that was meant to house such chaotic and powerful magic's such as her blood.
Perhaps it was her small hiss of pain, or the sudden burst and flares of magic that whisked through the air that made Rum shiver slightly as though hit with a frigid chill, but the servant simply brushed it off while he took up another trinket to polish.
Giving only a small careless glance behind him, the former spinner's eyes widened to see dark ruby blood flooding from her palm and dripping into the glass.
"Belle!" Rum cried in alarm as he bolted to her side.
Before he could round himself to the opposite side of the table, Belle had already milked what she needed of her life's blood to enact the curse. Now all that was required was the ritual to bind all regents to when the moon was fully risen.
He was at her side in an instant, suddenly not caring or perhaps throwing his timid nature to the wind as he grasped her wrist and pulled her bloodied hand to him in a panic. Certainly he had seen blood before; deep puddles of it that could be waded through and glimmered in the rays of day like tepid rain water. Yet the vibrant streak of scarlet ribbon upon her palm made his heart twist as though being wrung out by a pair of calloused hands.
Using the end of his tunic, he dabbed and sopped up the blood trying to halt its gushing flow, momentarily oblivious to her calm and intrigued staring aimed at him.
"Putting a gash in you hand! What in all the realms possessed you to do such a thing!" He demanded, in that moment forgetting his place or even not caring.
An amused and endeared chuckle echoed from the devious beauty's lips whilst she rested her head on her free hand and watched her slave begin to wrap a clean strip about the still dribbling cut and congealing blood that stained upon the fresh scrap of rag.
She should have been irked or even wrathful of speaking so brazenly to her, but his surprising concerns smothered the smoldering feelings of anger at his brash, harsh scolding.
"Funny." Belle snorted once in amusement as a peculiar thought sprang to her mind, causing her to grin widely.
His whisky brown gaze flicked in a scolding manner to her before he tied the make do bandage neatly about her palm. "You think hurting yourself like this is laughable?" He inquired in a snap that held testament to his panic.
"No, I think it funny that this was the first time you've ever spoken my name aloud." Belle clarified as she pulled her palm away and flexed her injured hand experimentally.
A sting of pain surged through the wound, but it paled in the pain to come upon the midnight hour.
Dark red bloomed upon the spinner's cheeks as his actions dawned upon him with a stinging clarity making him want to blanch and blush all at once. What had he been thinking to speak to her in such a scolding manner and grab her wrist without a by-your-leave, or even a consideration!
In less than three minutes alone he'd probably broken a handful of rules that deserved pain. "Forgive my brash ineptitude, mistress. I forgot my place."
The dangerous beauty waved her hand dismissingly at his words as thought the very notion was preposterous. "There is nothing to forgive. Your actions proved you a loyal servant, though a trifle prone to panic." She grinned fondly at him, trying to banish his anxiousness. "Besides, I do not mind being called Belle. It is my name after all. Truth be told, I was beginning to wonder if you'd ever start to use it." She smiled faintly. "Now go about your duties and rest assured I won't bleed to death."
His spindly shoulders slumped in relief as the coil of fear subsided in seeing that she was not angered by his sudden blank mind where all he thought of was her pain and how to aid her.
"Yes, mis- Belle." He began then corrected himself, trying to get used to her name that he suddenly realized he was allowed permission to use.
As the former spinner stood up, it was then the vile beauty understood what single minded fear had caught him enthralled.
The bottom of his coarse tan tunic he had used to dab up her life's blood was stained in dark splotches of the gummy, ironically cold fluid. For the first time in many long years the sight caused Belle a fierce bout of nausea, and a dark pit to grow in her stomach in which her heart plummeted.
She couldn't help but imagine the blood being his own that had erupted from his belly from a sword slice through his gut or streaming from a hard stab in the abdomen.
The same blood of the man who had given her the rose, who had gotten one up on that vile harpy Regina, who she was teaching to read and write. Her Rum.
She had laughed at his panic towards the nasty gash in her palm, now she understood what fear gripped the heart and wrenched it mercilessly at the dire repulsion of the blood smeared across him.
Had he truly felt the same way for her only moments before as the terror she felt now seeing blood drenched upon him?
"Mistress, are you well? You've turned pale as a specter." Rum stated in growing concern.
His brown eyes searched her ashen face in alarm as he neared her again in readiness to aid her in any way possible.
Belle shook her head to clear it of her fear then nodded sagely, trying to get her mind back on track to the tasks at hand. "Fine, I'm fine. You on the other hand go change into another tunic; I won't have you involuntarily fouling or staining up any of my treasures."
"Of course, mistress." He replied in dutiful acquiescence and marched out toward his meager belongings sequestered away in the stables.
As he strode away, the beauty gazed upon the tenderly wrapped bandaged about hand with a small, sad smile and flexed the gashed appendage warily once more.
Even though she could have easily snapped her fingers and knit the flesh together, the dangerous Dark One opted for the mortal hurt of the wound and the touched feeling that soothed inside her with every flinch of pain in the knowledge that he had came so quickly to her aid.
Sighing, in the throes of what old emotions that were beginning to bubble within her graceful form, the vile beauty turned back to her task; trying to concentrate upon the threads of the curse that needed to be spun at mignight, but failing miserably.