Dearies, Dearies, Dearies!
I hope you all enjoyed chapter 11 and the little cliffhanger…..I'm a sucker for a cliffhanger. I just can't help it!
;)
S/o to all of my followers, favorites, and reviewers!
Ya'll are the shit!
Chapter 12
Belle's eyes were glued to the long wooden slats of the floor as her slipper clad feet stepped across the threshold.
The whole room reeked of him.
Magic, black and heavy, along with the surprising sweetness of fresh straw permeated the workroom.
This is where he spent all of his time; locked away playing with life-threating potions and who knows what else…
This was his lair and he stayed here more than he did his own apartments.
More than he did with her.
Yet, Belle couldn't feel him.
She had always been able to sense when he either about to enter the room or somewhere near; and now she felt nothing.
It felt the same in his alchemy as the rest of the castle.
Forsaken.
Belle didn't need to look up to know he wouldn't be there, but she looked anyway.
Because once upon a time she had been brave.
She looked for the man inside of the Beast; she looked for love inside of a black heart; and now she looked for a sign.
But she found nothing.
And her poor, crucified heart dropped to her feet.
The last ember of hope that maybe he would forgive, died within her.
The emptiness of the alchemy gaped back at her like the hole in her chest.
Except this was more mocking than painful.
Almost as if the room was saying, "Do you not see you foolish girl? You're not worth coming back to. You drove him away."
Even the castle knew….
Belle wrapped her lace dressing gown tighter around her body.
"Then who lit the lantern?"
She said aloud, her head cocked slightly to the left.
Like she really expected an answer.
She rolled her eyes and crossed the room slowly, ready for any traps or spells that might be set for trespassers since Rumplestiltskin had drilled it in her mind from the beginning never to go into the west wing.
But he was gone now.
And Belle knew that Rumplestiltskin sometimes had callers.
It was not something that occurred on a regular basis, but more often than not, it was usually some desperate soul desiring a potion or talisman of some sort.
For a price…..
But surely no one would have the gall to intrude upon the Dark One's alchemy!
Regardless if he was there or not…...no one except Belle of course, and she could care less about the 'consequences.'
He no longer intimidated her.
He only hurt her.
Her eyes roamed all over the room, from multi-colored glass bottles on shelves, to hundreds of books stacked along the back wall, and his long work bench covered with what Belle assumed to be magical…..things.
It was the only room save for the grand hall, that looked truly lived in.
Belle's fingers danced over the spines of ancient books.
"Spell books." she whispered.
"Enchanting Inanimate Objects." Belle read off one of the spines.
"With Edged Tools."
Her fingers continued to jump from one book to the other, but she stopped when her eyes fell on a particularly large book on the fourth shelf up.
"The Eumenides."
Belle pulled out the well-bound black book and blew some of the dust off of the worn leather cover.
She opened to the first page and rubbed the thin paper between her thumb and forefinger.
"This doesn't look like a magic book."
She flipped the near transparent pages, skimming over some of the words, when she discovered in the very middle of the book there was a hollowed out rectangular space and lying in the rectangular cut out was the queerest knife Belle had ever seen.
"Why would he hide a knife in a novel?" she thought to herself as she picked up the handle with two fingers.
The dagger itself was tarnished and beat into a wavy shape; probably more for show than for function.
She pulled it from the pages and ran the pads of her fingers over the cold metal.
Belle dragged her fingers across the blade; it didn't even break her skin.
"It's not even sharp!" she exclaimed.
The handle was heavy, too heavy to wield in battle or wear in a boot, and when Belle turned the knife over, her breath hitched in her throat.
"Rumplestiltskin."
She whispered, clutching the handle tightly.
It was pure evil.
Belle could feel it.
She could smell the brassy odor of malevolence emanating from the knife along with the metallic tang of blood.
This was dangerous magic.
But, she couldn't bring herself to drop it; it was made to fit in her hand.
Belle was enchanted, as was the magic of the dagger.
She was so enraptured in fact, that she didn't even register Rumplestiltskin's presence as he stepped from the darkened doorway.
With her back unknowingly to him, she traced the letters of his name that were etched into the steel.
"Rumplestiltskin" she recited breathlessly.
"Hello Belle."
Belle found the dagger….shit's about to get real.
