A/N: Thanks for reading and all the lovely reviews guys and gals! :3 I'm delighted you like the story so far.
~8~8~
Three days. The words rang blissfully in Rumpelstiltskin's cunning mind as he peered at the sun misted outline of his mistresses kingdom long miles away from his reach.
Wind, cool and happily welcomed in the blistering haze of day, lazyily swayed his tattered burgundy cloak and rustled the light green tall grass that came up to his thighs. Dirty, gray-golden flesh glittered in the oblique rays transmuting his scales into a menagerie of hues. Gritty dust from the brown, cracked roads clung to his straggly hair and silver buckled boots.
Belle would make him bathe, he knew imperatively. A smile mounted upon his scaled features at the thought. She liked him better clean though he was still no fan of the constant lye soap and warm water.
Banishing the peculiar thought of bathing away from the forefront of his thoughts, the fiend sobered and enjoyed the flitting kiss of a breeze tapering across his rough skin. Never before had he really noticed the world about him, but for three days he'd taken to once more enjoying simple things as his mistress enjoyed them.
Relaxed, he stood under the forest green plumage of a singular sprawling, bole covered maple atop a knoll raised above an abundant field bursting with fledgling green stalks of wheat. The land below him was a neat blanket of fallowed and planted and growing earth as though testifying to the kingdoms tenacity to over come peril so quickly. Already crops were beginning to grow towards the sky and the smell of prosperity once more in the nostrils of the peaceful realm.
Breathing deeply, the fiend delicately savored the last precious hours of freedom before his promise to be back to his mistress was ended.
Three days had passed and now he was due back to his owner as he had promised. In the past hours he'd toiled relentlessly with his carefully crafted plans, plucking and weaving and spinning the fates of others who knew not of one another, as a dedicated spider did its grand homes of silks to trap unheeding fly's.
Of course he had acted normally, always so nonchalant and chuckling and in control while he dealt and bartered with kings and peasants. Others in realms leagues away were neck dip in the morass of their own problems, not even surmising his will was no longer his own and he called another master.
The king's sons had died at the hands of a powerful man he assumed slain in a demonstration to prove his battle prowess and now the grieving monarch needed the replacement in order to secure gold for his kingdoms depleted coffers and wed the cursed Midas' daughter to unite the kingdoms.
All it had taken was a few trips to a castle and a hovel with an old widow and her sheepherder son and a part of his major plans had been set in motion! Soon the entire avalanche of his own design would begin to rumble from the mountain of fate, and once begun it would not stop.
Satisfied pride welled within the fiend as he chuckled lowly to himself. After a few more years nothing would be as it once was and his journey to right wrongs could begin. After centuries of scheming and planning and waiting for the opportune moment to arise for his plans to be put into place, what were a few flitting years to his ageless form?
Of course, his scheming, while expertly dealt, had not halted him from thinking of his kind owner. Despite the destinies he wove together with an expert skill, somewhere, even as a flitting whisper in his head, Belle listed wonderfully through his ancient mind as an echo that never ceased to remind him of her.
Whenever he closed his eyes even for a brief moment, he saw he face. Wherever he chose to ramble about the realms her words would saunter through his mind like the magic that ferried him hither and thither. Instead of the feelings of desire being squashed and cast away as putrid garbage, his fondness for her had only grown like ivy coiling its stem about his stone heart. Her hand left an invisible brand upon his cheek that never cooled its heated fervor. He wanted to feel her touch again and anything to garner another touch of her soft skin against his rough flesh was a jubilant welcome.
The first day he had realized no amount of miles would rid him of her, he had all but set in a stew of hysterical panic he had not known for eons. But as he calmed and his mind cleared he began to think soberly of the implications as his mind and heart soothed from the foreign emotions so long bereft in him.
Darkness raged at him for yearning for such a pittance of tenderness he needed not, but gone were the malicious spurts of loathing where the blackness scolded himself for craving her tender touches and kind words.
Her warmth was too precious, too fine a wine to spit out like sour ale. If his pride was to be surrendered to her for the time being, to cool the fever she induced within, then so be it.
Thoughtlessly, a hand dipped into his leather jerkin pocket. Cold metal met his flitting talons, sending a pulse of assurance and glee speeding through him.
A warm smile creased his lips as he fingered the precious gift for his mistress. An icy, silver chain and diamond pendant from Pandora's Box itself lay nestled next to his heart until the jewelry could be delivered safety to his owner. The amulet was famed and surrounded by the mists of time and legend and now would grace the neck of his owner if she would accept his thanks for granting him leave.
Picking up the jewel from the belly of his abandoned Dark Castle, after all his plans were said and done and ready to be enacted, had been but a fanciful whim that took him thrall and made him giddy. A gift would testify he was behaving at least and strove to please his kind mistress.
Perhaps, he dared hope in the depths of his dark souls, she would be so grateful she might clasp his hand or touch his face again as she had done before. Oh to feel her again would be the greatest of rewards for pleasing the mistress.
Patting his pocket reassuringly, the fiend began to descend the grassy cline with a nimble ease. Hidden rocks behind tufts of grass and gnarled roots that jutted out perilously from the slope were no hindrance to his light steps. Normally he would have used magic to ferry him back to the stronghold, but the hot day added with the cooling kiss of wind that tousled his straggly mane was too great a luxury to pass up.
Besides, he chuckled happily to himself as he skirted a sprawling wheat field and made working serfs halt their labor, drop their hoes and pitchforks, and stare at him wide eyed in dull terror, the longer he took upon his trek back to his mistress's domain, the longer he could dwell upon her lovely face and preen over his plots.
~8~8~
"Where is he?" Belle murmured tensely under a baited breath as she stared out the pane of her chamber window.
The placement of her room gave her a fine view of the gray flagstone courtyard that displayed the entire, ground outlay neatly like a charcoal colored handkerchief embroidered with black iron.
Worry clouded across her lovely features as she scanned the men at arms lazily marching on their patrols amongst the palace grounds or languishing in the shade of the keep. Carriages with their noble crests painted and glided upon their sides constantly arrived and departed with nobles and courtiers and folk of business making Belle all the more anxious.
Sarah chuckled motherly to herself as she stared up from sewing a small tear in one of her charges green silken gowns. Wear had not worn the exquisite fabric, but moths who feasted on the unused attire of the princess who had always preferred simple peasant clothes rather than the heavily hooped, ornate gowns that were so much in style with the young ladies of the courts.
An aged smile dimpled her rotund, cheery face as she turned back to her stitching with a chuckle. "Never you fear missus, your knight will arrive in due time. It might seem eternity, but have no doubt he will come."
Everyone believed her anxiety was conjured from Gaston's absence! Forcing her tongue not to lash out in a stinging revelation, the beauty stared intently down upon the stone as though it would suddenly catch aflame from her hardened glare.
How she wished to scream at them all, even her dear Papa and Sarah. Gaston was the last man upon her mind! Gaston arriving sounded her ears of a plague upon the horizon. Rather he be delayed than coming nearer with every fleeting moment.
No, he was not the man her mind was enthralled to think of.
Her Rum dashed across her thoughts at every waking hour he had not been near. Hours she wandered through the halls, thinking of him without relent. How she wished to be down in his lair and fussing about his potions, or at the very least call upon him for a small talk.
Of course she had attributed her constant thinking of him with nothing more than apprehension of him trying some loophole to fetch his kris at first, but quickly dropped the foolish notion. In a way, even without the dagger for assurance, she trusted his very word. He would not betray her, but that in turn begged the question why she was on pins and needles to hear his tittering laugh and see the light glimmering off his gray-gold scales that made him look handsome and intriguing all at once.
Part of her took a ridiculous notion that mayhap she missed him. Perhaps his light hearted or morbid quips and flamboyant actions had sowed a fondness of him that had bloomed in her heart.
Twisting her fingers nervously, Belle forced herself up and away from her pillowed perch by the window. Staring down till gray and black spots danced in her vision was no help. Only being back would help, and even better if Gaston was delayed!
Her soul wished to spew what lingered in the recesses of her heart. But none would understand it was not Gaston she wished to see.
"It's not simply that, Sarah, it's…." The beauty stared down at her hands as she fiddled with them warily. How could she explain things she did not even comprehend herself?
Opening her mouth to speak again, ready to pour out what lay dormant in her soul, good or ill, Belle began to address her long time friend, but was overcome by another blustering sound.
A horn blasted bellowed through the air ringing about the palace in an echoing thunder. The heralding sound could have been heard even in the depths of Rum's lair, announcing the arrival of one whom the entire kingdom favored.
Ice plummeted in the beauty's belly as her shoulders slumped dourly. Of all the times and all the moments….
"Your knight has arrived!" Sarah crowed delightedly as she placed the dress aside and sprang up like a woman twenty five years her junior. Smoothing out the crimped wrinkles in her yellow smock the plump guardian began to pluck and arrange the beauty's rather simple garb as though she were on her way to a ball. "Now stand tall, greet him warmly, but not to excitedly." She instructed primly as she began to lead the now slow Belle like a rebellious donkey.
"Don't be so nervous." She encouraged, obvious as to what hampered the beauty's every step as though she walked in a morass.
Love and eagerness certainly had nothing to do with her inching steps or the deep frown lined upon her smooth skin. Today she would have to face Gaston. Today would be the start of planning her wedding and forging the chain of lace about her neck to be bound with a man she found, at best, childishly ignorant and priggishly revolting.
Sarah patted her now pallid cheek tenderly. "Oh come now child, at the very least grin through your wariness. You look as though you're headed to the hangman's noose!"
Better that than to greet the man she would die a slow, painful death of a cloistered life, Belle bit back in a stinging retort that wished to spew from her lips. How was it no one could see her distaste towards the man?
Had they known would they even look upon her favorably for speaking her heart?
Swallowing down the trite thought she managed an insipid smile as she walked the lonely corridors down to her fiancé and dreary fate.
~8~8~
Gaston wiped his sweaty, Neanderthal brow with the back of his fine crimson tunic sleeve as he stood, tall and dignified, as any gentleman would in the heat awaiting for his betrothed to allow him entry in the palace.
To his side, in the shade of a massive, towering oak never dislodged from the large courtyard, a host of finely painted, richly attired noble women and courtiers and ladies in waiting sat on stone benches covered by cotton. Prim nobles languorously fanned themselves from the blistering heat and talked in coy giggles behind ornate fans.
Most of the rouge and heavy dyes smeared upon their faces as though they had been weeping, but that did not keep the brute from sparing glances at them all the same.
One in particular, a fiery redhead with lupine eyes and a pursed mouth of crimson, stared at him fearlessly and with more than a look of innocence maidens of her caliber were rumored to tout ostentatiously. Daring and intrigue sparked in her eyes for him, telling him she was one to spend his nights dallying with and never would she speak a word of their affair.
Yes, Gaston noted to himself with a smug grin as he straightened his tunic and flashed a charming grin to the swooning, tittering ladies, he would be talking with her later once his greeting and pleasantries were all said and done.
The great double doors that led to the entry of the citadel groaned in protest as the ancient portals swung wide. The steel banded barriers collided to the stone in a soft boom like far away thunder revealing the prize that would lead him to so much more than a failing fiefdom and knighthood.
Belle walked out into the peerless light somberly. Her hands clasped tightly in front of her and her face was nothing more than a regal neutrality. One might have thought she were about to attend a funeral of some distant cousin rather than greet her betrothed. Other women would have laughed and smiled and ran towards him with arms outspread, but she did not.
Abruptly, as though she had just found inspiration or relief from a troubling thought, her eyes alight in sheer delight. Happiness banished the melancholy that clouded her porcelain skin and lovely features as though it had never been.
Surely, the knight preened narcissistically, no woman, not even the strange freak, Belle could resist his debonair charms and rugged handsomeness.
Taking a single step forward grandly as though he were about to fall upon a knee, Gaston smiled widely to his wife to be. Practiced words of love and endearment began to tumble from his mouth. "My dear-."
As though never noticing his existence the beauty stared past him with eyes that sparkled like the purest of sapphires. "Rum!" The beauty blurted, uncaring of the propriety.
The Dark One kept to the side of the gate creeping clandestinely like a shadow amongst the guards and retainers and retinue that had accompanied the brute. Too many he looked like some struggling beggar having found a way inside the gathering but oh he was so much more.
No one else had noticed him with the ragged cloak cowl pulled far over his scaled visage to avoid a ruckus, but Belle knew him. She would have known her Rum had there been a thousand of him all alike before her.
The cloaked figure paused like a rabbit spotted by hound's eyes, though far from afraid at being spotted. Indeed, part of Belle knew instinctively he relished being pointed out by those who feared him when such suited his fancy.
Pulling the hood back slowly, he dipped his dirty head once in a subservient bow. He had not been planning to make himself known until the end of Gaston's greeting but since she had hailed him he saw no reason to keep hidden as though ashamed.
Though others about him gasped and scuffled away, he felt only pride, and not the normal satisfaction he had of terrifying foolish mortals, that she had smiled and greeted him before the lout of a knight.
Gaston cleared his throat loudly, almost in a disapproving growl. The surly grumble called Belle's attention back to his towering form looking up to her from far below the pyramid of marble steps she stood upon.
Smilingly tightly to keep his calm, he bowed respectfully. "My lady, I have returned as I promised I would." Motioning to a ragged vassal next to his jet black charger, his barrel chest swelled proudly. "In honor of once more basking in your beauty, I have brought but a small token of my esteem and love for you; a gift to mimic how gorgeous you are."
The low, scurrying serf placed a package in the knight's hands before scuttling off like a beaten dog. Gaston was some what known for ill treating his people.
The brute smiled dashingly as he produced his gift from under a flannel shroud. "A dozen of the finest roses my land offers." He revaled charmingly.
Each rose was cut as perfectly as the next. Their silken petals were the color of fresh blood and their stems were a flawless dark green.
Smiling thinly, but little else, Belle nodded in acknowledgement of his gift. "Why thank you, Gaston. Such lovely flowers."
"An old beggar woman who was trying to unlawfully peddle on my land had them." He explained easily, taking pride in his power as though Belle would approve as many already did. "I was to have them destroyed like the rest of her flowers, but I saw these and thought of you."
Could the man do nothing without causing misery, Belle wished to scream. Before she could find her voice in her growing outrage, the knight turned to the Dark One. His cold eyes narrowed hatefully towards the fiend who grinned back nastily. The events of their last meeting still flashed in his mind as though they had happened yesterday and not months before.
"Come here, Beast." He beckoned in a simpering snarl like a master to a stubborn dog. He extended the beautiful flowers and nudged his head to Belle. "Come and fetch these for your mistress; give them to her."
In any other instance the fiend would have darted a glance to his mistress to know her will and gauge how to act. Now, however, he didn't even need to spare a look her way to know he was in no wrong and under no compulsion to do as the brute wished.
"Sorry, Dearie, I don't take commands from those who barely know how to count all their fingers and toes and barely can conceive which way to hold the end of a sword." Rumpelstiltskin giggled in his eerie trill.
Somewhere in the crowd a lone soul snickered at the taunt.
Anger all too readily filled the knight at the mocking of the monster in man-flesh. His eyes hardened into icy stone as a hand slid down threateningly to the hilt his sword. "Men have lost their lives for lesser insults, Beast. You do not think I would take the same offence to a clever animal mocking me?"
"My, my struck a nerved did I?" The fiend queried teasingly. A black talon tapped the side of his chin curiously as though Gaston intrigued him.
The crowd hastily parted to be away from the Dark One's path as he languorously stepped forward to face the brute. Ease and stinging mocking laced his scaled features as he grinned maliciously at the idiot. He chuckled and slowly circled the knight. "And come to think of it, you have no right to talk of calling anyone an animal, ass. I have been wondering when I changed your body back, did I inadvertently leave the mind of a pack mule in your dense skull."
Gaston bristled like a prodded bull at the mention of his transformation out loud. Smoke could have billowed out his nostrils as he stared the fiend down with a death glare that could have melted stone and frozen Hades fire.
His words were more frigid than chips of ice in the coldest realms of their world. "Bold words for an imp who knows a few parlor tricks rather than winning battle with steel and might." He spat hatefully, his face darkening with seething rage. "You have to rely on villainous magic to back up your words don't you, Beast? Without magic you're just a harmless little grass snake ready for its head to be sliced off."
Rumpelstiltskin barked a genuine laugh. His head tossed back briefly as he roared in amusement at the knights expense. "Funny, Dearie." He wiped away fake tears of amusement from his eyes and pranced about the moron. "But magic or no magic I could easily beat you." He paused his circling and spared a glance to his anxious owner hoping he was not overstepping his bounds.
Belle stared warily, her lovely features troubled and yet perhaps a light of vehement approval for her servant who dared confront the brute.
"I could beat you without raising a hand or blade." He finished confidently, seeing had not deemed to scold him or halt their interaction at present.
"Are you a fool?" Gaston uttered a brash chortle. He jabbed a thick thumb into his jutting chest proudly. "I am the man who slew a score of ogres without the use of witches tricks." He proclaimed proudly and slowly unsheathed his blade. Brandished steel swayed loosely in murderous desire in his free hand. "You think you can best me without magic and without a blade then I can easily defeat you with one hand." He shook the flowers in his left hand in a failed attempt to taunt the fiend.
At that, the crowd roared their support at their champion. The name of Gaston resounded through the heated courtyard. Even the ladies under the awning of leaves set up dainty cheer before swooning and settling again like a flock of silly geese in the midst of a blood bath.
The fiend chuckled manically and heaved his shoulders in a nonchalant shrug. "If you say so, Dearie. Let us see if your skill is something to be vaunted or are your boasts to big for your expertise."
In a hearts beat, without waiting any presets or intervention from the beauty, the knight dove in eagerly to shed the Dark One's blood and teach him a lesson. Too long had he merely stood there letting the fiend use his clever tongue and mock him. Now was time to silence the taunted with blood and screams.
Too see him bleeding and begging for mercy upon the ground would be a balm to the brute's tarnished pride. Once he was on his knees pleaded for clemency then perhaps Belle could see exactly what kind of animal her Beast was - a coward.
A blood curdling roar that resounded from the stone erupted from Gaston's lips as he charged murderously towards Rumpelstiltskin. One hand wielded his cared for blade expertly whilst the other clutched the fine roses in a death grip. A few petals dropped away in the rush, but nothing to disfigure their beauty.
Steel hissed viciously through the air as he swung down to cleave the fiend in two. Sunlight flashed from the blade as he aimed for the Dark One's neck, hoping to dig the steel deep in his hide.
Belle began to cry out for the murderous contest to desist at once, but a quick gaze from the fiend silenced the cry dead upon her tongue as though her throat had shriveled. There was an asking for trust she knew instinctively in the heart beat glance he allotted her. A trust she was wiling to give no matter how much she despised them fighting.
Perhaps, a part of her wished to see if Gaston would get his comeuppance for his cruel words and brutish actions.
The Dark One smiled impishly as he easily sidestepped the swing with only a small step to his left.
Gaston staggered forward, fighting hard to keep his balance. His blade clacked lightly against the cobblestone as he fought simply to stand aright from his vicious swing.
Rumpelstiltskin's hands rested behind his back as he calmly clucked his tongue and shook his head in mock pity at the knight's utter stupidity. "Such a sloppy strike. Are you trying to score a hit or chop wood?"
Furious, Gaston wheeled dangerously upon the Dark One. Enraged for being made a fool, the brute spat a foul curse, improper for any ladies ears, as he tried his hand again in bringing a wound to the terror.
His blade whistled ominously in a diagonal slash aiming for Rumpelstiltskin infuriating smirk to cut the grin off his face.
The fiend veered away from the hit once more and nimbly kept backwards as Gaston's strike turned from the feigned slash into a pointed lunge for his gut.
Keeping himself from laughing outright he drew savory satisfaction from witnessing the fools face redden as his tricks were spoiled one by one. The knight indeed was skilled, but not as expert as the monster in the ways of tactics and combat.
"You see." The Dark One explained almost happily as though teaching a pupil whilst the brute slashed and stabbed and chopped at him to no avail. "Fighting is not about how many blows you hit." He ducked his head from a wide swing and popped up once more, now behind the knight, to continue easily. "It is about learning to keep the blade out of your hide while you wait for the most opportune moment to deliver the one blow your foe never thought of." At that, Rumpelstiltskin lightly pushed the battle hardened knight with a foot in the rear, causing the brute to stumble forward.
A bestial growl spat past the knights lips as he charged again and lunged at the fiend like a rabid bear. His mind over boiled with frothing, blinding fury as he attacked with every trick he knew simply to desire the satisfaction of watching the beast writhe impaled through his sword like a slaughtered pig.
The knight swung, the fiend ducked. Gaston stabbed, Rumpelstiltskin pivoted upon his heel. The brutish lout arched the blade and the cunning beast pranced from side to side in a jesting taunt.
Rose petals flew with every deadly swing as the precious flowers were slowly marred and destroyed with the force of battle in the hands of the lummox Gaston.
Mostly silence reigned in the heated courtyard as knight and sorcerer circled once another; one fighting like a enraged beast and the other almost dancing a harvest jig to mock his opponent who had not come near to landing a hit.
People stared spell bound at the scene, their eyes growing wider with each swing and miss and mocking cackle from the fiend and new spurt of rose petals flying into the heated air. Many cheered silently for Gaston as braver souls called out advice and words of encouragement to their champion, for if their beloved knight could not win against the Beast their princess miraculously kept leashed in the dungeons then who could?
Belle searched the batted intently, her hands curled tightly into fists against her fluttering stomach. Ice froze her blood dead in her veins as she nary dared breath less she interrupt the Dark One's concentration on dodging the cruel bite of the blade. Her nails dug deep into her skin until she flinched to keep herself from shaking every time Gaston swung out at her Rum.
Long, crawling minutes dragged by in the raging summer heat as Gaston plowed forward and the Dark One coolly brushed aside the blow as though the brute was a petulant child waving a toy about in a tantrum.
Sweat dripped profusely from his brow and drenched his redden face like rain. Bellowing breath heaved in low gasps as his swings flagged and his steps slowed in the heat. He could be a vicious opponent, but never had he not landed a single blow on any he had faced!
"Getting tired?" Rumpel mocked lazily, deciding he'd had enough of toying with the brute. He chuckled flippantly and turned his back upon the knight without the slightest hint of wariness, his talons flourishing lazily through the air. "And here I thought mules were hardy creatures."
At the last taunt, the knight abandoned all fatigue and what little reason he possessed in the heat. Dredging up the last draughts of his strength for a blow that could have embedded his blade into solid rock, he raced blindly behind the Dark One. Such a blow was more than dishonorable from a knight who had been challenged to fair combat.
"Rum!" Belle cried desperately to alert her beast, but there was no need.
Abruptly the fiend turned back as though he had forgotten to deliver another taunting bite. Hands flying to the silver clasp of his cloak he unpinned the mantle and tossed the fabric at the knight as though he were some matador.
A cry of surprise blurted from the knight's lips as he tumbled into the ragged cloak with too much inertia to avert his path. Throwing his hands up, he let his blade and the decimated flowers to go flying in a desperate attempt to not entangle himself.
Smiling in satisfaction the Dark One, plucked a singular flower, nearly bereft of its petals from mid air expertly. The rest fell in a heap upon the grounded, flailing Gaston who grunted and swore vehemently as he tried to free himself from the shroud.
Walking towards his mistress, the fiend lazily waved his claws over the pale green nub of the bloom. Dark purple magic swirled in a small, glassy-like orb under his hand in only a faint spurt of power. Mist evaporated into the refreshing breeze leaving the flower as good as before without blemish.
In one smooth motion Rumpelstiltskin dropped to his knees obediently in front of his mistress.
Head bowed lowly, he offered up the singular, now unmarred rose. "For you, my mistress." He remarked reverently, ignoring the muffled cries of absolute outrage from the brute who struggled to be rid of the cloak that enveloped him. Daring to lift his voided eyes to her, his smirk told his humble tone was little more than show. Placing his head down reverently once more, he added. "If you'll have it."
Punishment was surely to come, he was certain, after such an escapade of abjectly humiliating her betrothed. One in private and now in public he had made the knight a fool. But all punishment from the blade at her displeasure would be worth it he knew. Even getting harmed in the sight of Gaston would be worth it. Soon word would spread of his utter defeat and that was triumph enough.
Tensed, he awaited the stabs of torment to assail his form and rend his flesh and claw at his nerves, and yet none came. Not a single ounce of pain seeped into his form. Even the slight inkling he felt tickle him rarely at her displeasure was nowhere to be felt.
Daring a glance at her features, he stared at her curiously for a moment. Was she not upset her groom to be had been thoroughly degraded by a slave and sent clawing upon his back like an upended turtle?
"No punishment, my mistress?" He inquired just loud enough for a now free Gaston to hear. To know he would not be tormented or disciplined after beating the cur so thoroughly seemed a delectable victory he would savor like the purest of honey.
"Punish?" Gaston echoed the word dumbly as he finally managed to be free with the help of his guards. Tatters of the burgundy cloak still hung in his fisted grip as he stomped up the stairs. All thought of niceties and gentlemanly grace ghosted away as he planted himself angrily beside the fiend.
He pointed to the monster accusingly like a spoiled child. "Belle, if you can punish this Beast I demanded he be flogged for his impudence. If you let me, I shall flog him myself."
For a moment Belle stared at them both. Indecisiveness flickered in her orbs as she her mind ran on how to quell the situation. Under no circumstance would she allow her Rum to be beaten, especially at the cruel hands of Gaston. Knowing the vengeance that lurked in his black heart, he would beat him till he were nothing more than a indiscernible mess of striped, agonized flesh.
"Now Gaston." She sighed finally and turned to him making the knight beam momentarily as though his whining would be rewarded. "You lost to him fairly without magic. Admit defeat graciously and we can get past this nonsense."
For a moment, Gaston blinked stupidly as though not comprehending. She scolded him while in a way praising her slave.
"Of course." He strained through grit teeth.
Dipping his head in the faintest of acknowledgments to the Dark One, though the gall of doing such a thing must have burned a whole right through his stomach, he turned back to Belle. Eyes cold he stared at her darkly as though his loss had been her fault. "I hope that now we may go inside and talk of more important things?" He asked trying to seem careless, but failing. How it nagged him to give an ounce of deference to the Beast!
"Yes we shall." She replied with a wide smile. Biting her under-lip as Gaston passed and stomped into the castle, her eyes danced in a merry amusement.
She was not displeased at all, he knew know with a staunch certainty that made his heart warm like the sun heating the stones. His heart larked to her glinting eyes that made him wish to laugh. In a way, his mistress was vastly pleased.
As the fiend rose, Belle, he noticed perceptively held the rose close to her bosom. Her delicate fingers fingered the emerald stem as she leaned closer to the fiend as though loosing her balance. "I'm glad you're back, Rum." She whispered in a smile into his ear and departed.
A grin etched widely upon his lips as he watched his owner follow her surly betrothed into the dark coolness of the keep. Having her speak such word was a better prize than humiliating the fool Gaston.
He could win her over faster than the brute ever could, the fiend knew suddenly. A wider grin stretched upon his lips as he snapped his fingers to bring magic to his call and ferry him down to his lair.
Yes, if he even dared put his mind to it, he could be better to Belle than the knight ever could.
Abruptly, the Dark One recalled the fine amulet pocketed in his jerkin. A that moment he could have raced to her and delivered the gem, but some how, the rose seemed such a worthier gift to his mistress who enjoyed the simple things.
~8~8~
All the world seemed dark to the Belle as she entered the dim citadel. Using the excuse to let her eyes ajudst to the bleak shadow, the beauty did not readily follow her surly betrothed like a leashed dog.
His hulking form was a mountainous dot, bristling with utter outrage, far along the hall as he marched angrily down into the main parlor to await his bride to be. Abruptly he turned a corner and a door slammed, telling the beauty he was none to pleased.
Perhaps that was why she couldn't halt her grin, she considered with a light chuckle.
All alone for a few moments, Belle ducked behind a column to avoid the eyes of any bustling servants who ran carrying the gossip of their champions defeat. The cool stone soothed her heated flesh as she leaned against the marble pillar.
Holding the rose close to her racing heart she sniffed the bloom. A soft, fond smile played upon her lips as the fragrance of roses and magic drifted pleasantly about her. Her fingers stroked the silken petals delicately as though they would break as she stared down at the beauteous flora.
Of course a servant woman would gather the ruined heap of flowers wilting upon the heated flagstones and attempt to slavage them before putting the now damaged roses in her room, but this one Rum had given her…this one she would keep close to her heart.