A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing!
~8~8~
"You should take your cloak." Belle commented to the departing Dark One as she snuggled down in her usual spot by the monolithic windows of the main hall to read as well as watch the spectacular view of the seasons changing.
Summer was fast waxing into fall; there was a little, yet pleasant, nip in the crisp air that foretold of coming autumn. The trees were beginning to become spotted with their warm russet colors of mulled brown and crimson, and the flocks of birds were soaring to warmer far away shores. Soon the harshest of the fall chill would set in, but at present the weather was gorgeous and perfect.
Rumpel snorted once in incredulity as he dusted off his thick charcoal black vest. "I don't need a cloak. I'll be fine." He protested.
"You'll be home late and it's going to get colder." The beauty countered. Gracefully she slid off the window seat and grabbed the rough almost scaly cloak from its perch on his comfortable armchair. "Now what kind of servant would I be if I let my master catch a cold all because he thinks he doesn't need a cloak?"
"An annoyed one I would venture to guess." He replied with his impish smile as Belle whipped the fabric over his shoulders. The fiend could well imagine her shoveling bowls of soup his way and forcing him to stay in his Castle for an entire week to nurse him back to full health. But then again could he get sick? It'd never happened since he'd become the Dark One.
She hooked the golden clasp that was shaped as a crescent moon to his tunic in one smooth motion and brushed off a few of the wrinkles, smiling patiently at him. "You'll thank me later." The beauty assured him with a wry grin that set his heart fluttering.
"I thank you now." The Dark One stated with an exaggerated bow as he let the cloak flourish and swirl about his boots.
Belle couldn't help but laugh at his antics, as she grinned fondly at him. His eyes came up to meet hers as the sound of her soft laughter wafted through the room. They both paused, almost breathless as they realized how…comfortable they were around one another now. Sometimes they found themselves carrying on in the most whimsical fashion or bantering back and forth like an old married couple before they realized or questioned was what they did appropriate for master and slave.
Rumpel cleared his throat awkwardly before offering Belle a polite, if not distant, goodbye and whisked out of the home as if the tension that so often rose between them would cease to pursue him. One could only hope for the impossible of course.
~8~8~
Darkness fell in a heavy ominous blanket about the shaded forest of the wild wood. A milky vapor of mist floated inches above the moist leaf strewn ground in a wispy shroud of ghostly white that curled about the low grounded shrubbery like it hung about its boughs in some macabre decoration. The moon hung in a smiling thin slice of pale yellow that filtered through the thick canopy of black towering trees.
Nocturnal forest life hooted and chirped in haunted echoes about the shadowed glade. Small critters scrambled about the dense forest floor in anxious scurrying strides while gold and ruby eyes peered hungrily through the thick undergrowth stalking those without glistening fangs or razor claws…or swords for that matter.
Gaston paced in a semi-circled manner throughout an opening in-between the thick ancient trunks of the haunted wilderness. His mud caked boots crunched the freshly fallen leaves of rapidly approaching fall; his breath shooting small clouds of chilled vapors every time a tremulous waver let pass his lips.
The glint of steel reflected off the sparse beams of the moon that filtered through the copious leafy ceiling above him, as he toyed impatiently with the blade in his firm grip. He let it trail upon the loamy earth, its tip digging softly into the land tracing a clear line.
His ivory steed, who was fettered nearby, pawed and stamped at the dewed ground warily as if wanting any word from its master to bolt away from the haunted glade. Puffs of trepid breath billowed from its nostrils every time a sound pierced the chilling quiet. Its eyes rolled crazily in its head, whinny's of fright passing its lips every time the wind would bring the scent of danger and accursed magic.
The master of the horse paid no heed to the spooked creature as his hard chestnut eyes scanned everything about him. His skin and stubble sprawled along his chin began to prickle like spiders were creeping along his flesh; the sure sign of a magician being nearby.
"Well I must say you picked a rather scenic rendezvous spot to meet me." The well known and spine tingling voice of the Dark One echoed about the looming ominous trees.
In an instant Gaston's blade fell into an upraised angled position, his light brown eyes searching the murky darkness of the glade intently as if some spot would betray the high pitched voice. "I had to make sure you would come. In all my years of hunting I know a beast is drawn to where it feels most comfortable. Where would you feel more at ease than a dark forest where you can skulk about like the demon you are?" He deadpanned with a grimace.
"Fair enough." The voice replied so casually and close by the handsome knight could almost hear the lackadaisical shrug that went along with it.
Turning around sharply he found the Dark One sitting on a moss covered fallen long; thoroughly unimpressed at the sight of the man hefting the expertly cared for broadsword.
The magical fiend crossed his slender arms over his thick tunic and tapped a foot almost impatiently. "So what have you called me for then, eh? A magical sword, land, a war? What deed do you need done with the aid of my gifts, and what can you give me in return?" Rumpel asked; his wiry fingers flourishing through the air smugly.
"You don't remember me?" Gaston inquired his eyes narrowing, and blade dropping just a few inches.
"Should I?" The beast replied with an upraised eyebrow and a trifle of mock surprise in his tone. In fact he did remember who it was very clearly. Here stood the brutish moron that had been picked to husband Belle. His Belle.
The huntsman growled angrily, the noise almost like a rumble of distant thunder as he took a step towards the unconcerned, grinning fiend. "You stole away my would-be bride to be your slave."
"That's right." Rumpel snapped his dexterous fingers as if the knight's face suddenly came to mind. " But if I recall I didn't steal her away so much as she sold herself to me. That's what our deal entailed; for her to serve me for eternity."
"And that's why I called you." Gaston revealed. Leveling his blade to Rumpelstiltskin's throat, the brute held it evenly just under the devious fiends chin, ready to pierce through the gray-gold flesh in the blink of an eye. "I want to make a deal to get Belle back."
If the Dark One had any concern with a blade wavering so close to his jugular it never once showed. Rumpel did not even acknowledge the sword, but cackled in his manic way as if he found the situation slightly amusing. "Sorry, Dearie, but I don't make it a habit of altering my deals often."
The knight valiantly restrained himself from slicing, or trying to slice, the Dark One's head off his shoulder in sheer frustration. Until he could get Belle back the kingdom would be forever out of his reach. He would remain only a grand knight laden with debts that he could not pay, and more rising each passing day. To him the marriage of Belle would solve his entire problem and gain him wealth, power, prestige; all his if he could but marry the blasted wench!
"You could have any woman in all the realms." Gaston protested almost like a whining, petulant child. "One that's far more obedient and subservient than Belle."
Rumpel shook his head slightly, due to the blade tip hovering inches from his throat. "Ah but I don't any other." In fact he could think of no other woman who he would so enjoy about his grand estate. He could not imagine bandying words or striking a quip or two with some frightened bitter woman who hated him and scurried off at the very sight of him.
Belle was one of a kind, and that's why he would never, ever consider the thought of giving her up to this broad shouldered brute whose horse's backside probably had more sense than he.
"Oh but I do so abhor the ordinary. I wanted some one special to look after my collections and keep the castle tidy." He continued, his thin gray smile never leaving his lips.
Gaston snorted incredulously at Rumpel's words, his eyes rolling in annoyance. "Belle? There is nothing special about her." He spat distastefully, trying to reason with the maniacal monster to make him believe Belle wasn't worth it. "More like mouthy, doesn't know her place, reads and thinks too much instead of doing things that really matter." With a slight shake of his head, the knight banished those thoughts away to get back on track. Now was not the time to be talking about Belle's odd and sometimes irksome habits of learning.
"Here is my deal, Dark One. I'll find another, a better, slave girl for you to terrorize, and you give me back Belle." The brute chortled faintly at a bit of low brow humor that suddenly came to mind. "I'll bring you two if you managed to beat some of that speak-her-mind, thinking and learning garbage out of her. And to be fair, you've probably had all the fun with her that you're ever going to have. Why just have one boring bed warmer when you can have better."
A low, dark growl, blacker than the enveloping night rumbled out from the Dark One's throat and even Gaston, for all his unlearned ways, knew in some way he had probably crossed some sort of horrible line.
The fiend's onyx eyes glimmered with the mulled orange embers of anger as he glared intently at the knight. How dare he speak about Belle in such a manner! To treat and talk about her as if she were some sort of dumb animal that was only good for bargaining and corralling.
Rumpel adored everything Gaston hated about Belle, her wit, her intelligence, the way she became so entranced in a book then related it to him later, her eagerness to learn and her unstable curiosity. She was a beauty among the drab and this…moron this waste of brain cells and space wanted to barter for her like cattle at market day!
"I'll make you a better deal." Rumpel stated, though there was no giggle, no fiendish cackle, and no jester like flourish tacked on upon his words.
In an instant Gaston's sword was transformed into a giant reddish brown snake with hypnotizing black eyes that look akin to twin pools of a never ending abyss.
The knight could only watch in puzzlement then horror as the humongous cobra deftly twisted from his grip and wrapped around him in a crushing vice. He attempted crying out for help but the coils of the serpent only squeezed tighter, taking the air from his lungs and slowly ever tightening.
The pain brought hot tears to his eyes, as he felt his ribs on the cusp of shattering in the tight scales of the snake. Its ruby red tongue flicked against his ear making his shudder violently; a dangerous, hungry hiss oozing from its mouth.
Grabbing the huntsman's chiseled chin, the fiend gripped it tightly, letting his nails dig into his flesh until he felt warm driblets of blood run down through his wiry fingers. "Here's the deal. You will get back on your horse, go back to the insignificant kingdom you crawled from and never come back this way again. When you arrive you will speak to Belle's father and tell him that she is safe and alive within the halls of the Dark Castle. Assure him to the best of you dull abilities that she is not mistreated and I am not cruel to her. Tell him that she is content and wants for nothing, and she has a better life with me than she would have ever had with you!" His voice dropped suddenly, as he dug his claws out of the knight's flesh. "And in return I'll let you live with the knowledge that I have somthing you that will never be yours. That is the only deal."
The coils slowly began to loosen as the knight nodded his agreement to the terms, but Gaston hardly noticed the grip alleviating or the blood running down his face. He stared blinking almost in shock as even his dim brain put the pieces together.
Gaston might not be the sharpest sword in the armory, but he recognized blistering jealously when he heard it. He knew the flash of envy in the eyes of another as their woman flirted with him or the bitter jealously that emanated out of a man who had just found out his wife or wife to be had slept with the rugged knight. It was jealousy with just a hint in inadequacy laced behind it.
"You love her." He stated in a matter-of-fact rasp. The knight let out a bloody, gurgling, painful laugh that hurt Rumpel far more than it did the huntsman. "I did not think the Dark One could still possess such an emotion! You love her, but look at you." He sneered in Rumpel's face. "Your gangly body, sickly odd flesh, matted hair, talons. You want me to tell her father that you're nice to her, you're kind, and gentle with her."
Gaston could only laugh louder at the sudden off guard look that the Dark One exuded. He looked as if he had been caught red handed in some sort of horrendous crime at the slip of his tongue.
"Do you really think she would love something as ugly, tainted, hideous both inside and out such as you? Do you think she could, would, love a beast? Do you actually think she's happy with you? You hold her up and keep her as a slave because you know you could not have her willingly stay at your side. What woman as she could even stand you?" The knight scoffed, openly, blatantly mocking the famed Dark One.
Rumpel wanted to spit something back. He wanted to parry the idiot's words with anything that came to mind. He wanted to claim that he was not jealous of Gaston who was once to be engaged to Belle, who courted her and kissed her and openly spouted out words off affection. But then that would have been a lie. The moron had done everything that Rumpel could not do with Belle, and yes, that did make him jealous.
He would have killed the lout then and there for speaking to him in such a manner. The fiend could have devised a host of tortures to wail upon the stupid Gaston, but he had already struck his deal, and he would not go back upon it.
Suddenly the coils of the snake fell away. A mulled thump hit the ground as the last of the scales transformed back into a solid sword. Gaston knelt to pick it up, but the fiend placed his boot on the hilt keeping it in place. He glared murder at the knight, forcing himself not to turn the oaf into a firefly. "Begone."
Even Gaston wasn't stupid enough to challenge that order. The knight gathered up what little pride he had left off the forest floor, his eyes flashing daggers at the hated Dark One. He flicked his black cloak swirling it behind him as he growled angrily at Rumpel. The huntsman staggered waywardly to his spooked horse, but managed to quell the ivory steed's fear as he leapt upon the back expertly.
"I'll have Belle as my wife, make no mistake about that!" He shrieked like a ghastly banshee then galloped off towards the main road, his horse churning up black clods of moist soil in its wake.
Rumpel's eyes followed for as long as they could until the knights horse was out of view and the thundering of hooves grew to a faint rumble in the night. It was only then, when he was certain he was alone, that the magical fiend let a disheartened sigh pass his lips.
Picking up the sword, the beast planted himself back down upon the mossy log. He held the cold steel that reflected the moon up to his face in his open palms.
Scaly, tough, gray-gold skin, and soulless midnight eyes; the very nightmare of little ones. He pulled at his skin as if it might peel off but it remained still as rough, grotesque and toad like as ever.
With a dark grimace he wondered how Belle could even tolerate to look at him everyday. His jagged teeth and pointed nails and all around beastliness.
The knight, for all his stupidity was correct. What beauty such as Belle could love a beast?
~8~8~
It was late before Rumpel arrived back home. The torches were burning low in their sconces and the hour candle had waned to about one nub; the yellowish wax pooling about the base and dripping to the stone floor like melting icicles.
Even so, the hearth in the main hall still glowed brightly making flickering shadows dance across the tapestries and curtains.
He stalked in; hoping to sit in his chair to become lost in thought as he stared at the crackles logs, but to his surprise found Belle nestled there instead. Her russet curls fell pleasantly about her face, her chest moving at a slow tempo, and her knees drawn up slightly.
He couldn't help but let a smile tug at the edge of his lips as he looked down upon the peaceful woman, knowing she had tried to stay up to see him home. She was what it meant to be beautiful in every aspect of the word, Rumpel thought. And she was his, all his, forever. The Dark One frowned at the possessive thought and shook his head ruefully. No, people like Gaston categorized Belle as a thing. She was her own woman, outspoken and thoughtful and wonderful and…Belle.
A chill suddenly whispered through the keep making the lovely woman before him unconsciously shiver. Rumpel immediately unclasped his cloak she had been so adamant he take and threw it over her, hoping his warmth would protect her from the drafts of cold. He wanted to always protect her.
His hand inched near her face to knock back a rebellious tendril of hair, but he paused himself to stare at the stark contrast of her flawless porcelain skin and his wiry rough claw that hovered over it. Gaston's words bit again in his heart like a rabid wolf ripping and tearing at it wantonly.
Slowly he furled his hand back as if touching her might taint or scar her in some way.
She was so peaceful, so beautiful resting there that he had a difficult time turning away. Yet the idiot Gaston's words refused to leave the fiend alone. Did he really think she was happy here all alone with him, or were the words of a foolish brute spot on?
"I hope you find a little happiness here with me, Belle." He whispered so quietly the words barely made sound, yet they were said almost with a solemn pleading. "All I want is for you to be happy."
~8~8~
Gaston should have gone back towards his homeland, but of course he would not. Stupidity now mingled with sullied pride did tend to make even a very clear and very plausible threat by the Dark One fall upon deaf ears.
The knight cantered moodily down the deserted dirt road, now weaponless as well as desperate. His shoulders hunched over almost dejectedly with his body still throbbing in aches from the huge serpent that had nearly crunched him between its thick coils.
If he couldn't by himself claim Belle then perhaps another wielder of magic could aid him to pry the wench form the beasts grip and in doing so obtain the key to all his desires.
Perching his head up to the sprawling velvet expanse of the early autumn night sky, the huntsman searched for the well known glimmering stars to guide his path then set out north to find the famed queen who was said to be the fairest in all the land.