A/N: I know I say it all the time, but thanks for reading and reviewing!
~8~8~
Rumpelstiltskin awoke feeling unnatural fatigue gripping his sinewy form. It wasn't akin to a weakness where Belle had ordered him to toil until he fell in a heap of exhaustion. On the contrary she was never too demanding with his tasks even on her most furious days, the former spinner perceptively realized, but tucked the thought away for later pondering.
No, this was tender soreness where his muscles tensed in stiffness, and with every heaving breath his lungs rattled as though he had wandered about a smoke filled room. A pounding akin to a hundred dwarves viscously hammering away at his skull, dully thudded right behind his whisky brown orbs, making him loathe the thought of even daring to peek his eyes open.
Where was he? What had happened?
All he could recall was the vainglorious Brimstone nervously pawing upon the hard earth, and waves of unpleasant magic crashing mercilessly against his form.
Breaking her requisition and creeping into the Dark Castle, vaguely sprang to mind where the only brief flashes of memory he could bring to the surface of his thoughts was the sight of his conniving mistress striking wide blows at the magic infused atmosphere and screaming like a banshee newly arisen from its eternal repose.
Slivers of other memories arose from the blank fog of his pain addled brain, telling of catching her and feeling the warmth of her tears that soaked through his rough woven tunic as she clung to him for dear life.
He remembered holding her close to his wildly drumming heart, his face buried in her thick amber maple locks and whispering words of comfort that fell upon deaf ears.
As the horror laden night slowly marched onward, he had kept her tight and secure in his encompassing arms until her mortal shrieks of pain had only fallen to tearful, piteous, whimpering like a child caught in the terror ridden throes of a nightmare in which she could do nothing to jar herself awake from.
Some time in the waning night, as the sun banished the blackness away from its rightful place in the court of heaven, and vibrant display of brilliant reds and soft coral pinks streaked the sky amidst the faded gray, Rumpel had drifted off to sleep with his devious slaver still wrapped protectively in his arms.
Whatever seemed to steal her mind and claw mercilessly at the membranes of her senses had departed, leaving her off in tumultuous, exhausted slumber.
Since both of them had been coaxed into the realms of thankfully dreamless unconsciousness in the early rise of day, the former spinner hadn't a clue just how long he had been asleep or more importantly, how long his strange and volatile mistress had been awake.
Squinting his eyes open just a minute crack, Rum clenched his jaw and hissed through his grit teeth to fight off the stabs of pain the light brought shooting through his aching head. The thick curtains had been drawn as usual to let the golden rays of day beam throughout the hall in some macabre cheerfulness that was always present whenever the sun dared shine upon the coarse gray stone of the ancient citadel.
Staggering half blind to his feet, the servant stumbled along clumsily; his eyes closed tightly to hamper the slants of golden light that desired to gouge through his brain until he could feel his way to the perpetual dank and graciously dim corridors that constantly wafted the harrowing drafty chills which never ceased to remind Rumpel of faint wails of the cursed dead.
As he lurched into the darkened hall, the former spinner leaned against a column to gather his dwindled strength and let his pupils adjust to the merciful blackness. Once the black and blue dots halted intermediately spotting his vision, a soft sigh quietly fell past his lips as he thought over what to do.
Surely his dark mistress would be furious at his direct disobedience to her commands. Perhaps even now she was in her potion room concocting some sort of extremely vile and potent toxin to make him writhe in misery while she bombarded him with magical arches of agony at all once in some sinister ensorcelled pain.
A part of him momentarily darkly cursed himself for his stupidity in throwing his caution to the wind that dreaded night and foolishly giving no heed to what pain that was foretold.
But then, it suddenly dawned upon him as quickly as the fear for his health jolted his heart into a booming pace, that even though he was certain she would make him pay dearly for blatantly ignoring her demand, he felt no regret in what he had done. He wasn't proud at his rebellion that might very well cost him his health or life, but a part of him felt no anger for rushing to her aid.
Still, that knowledge did not take his fear away.
Minutes ticked by in the discomfiture of the chilled darkness, as his mind frantically combed over what route to take. Of course he could always sneak out to the stables and attempt to avoid his ubiquitous mistress for as long as humanly possible.
But in the end, either by magic or by time, they would have to meet and when they did… Rumpel suppressed a shiver that shook his entire form as he dabbed a trickle of cold sweat that brooked down his temple with the cuff of his tunic at the mere thought.
For a moment he thought to simply get it over with and grovel and plead before her for mercy, but coward that he was, he found himself padding to the kitchens to sneak out the servant's door to the stables.
"I'm sorry mistress I don't know what got into my stupid head. Forgive me, milady, I was a fool." He murmured quietly to under his breath as his mind raced to find the most appeasing words to spare him a trifle of her vast wrath.
At a loss for what to say, Rum ran a hand through his dirty brown locks and shook his head and grimaced darkly as though the words left a foul taste on his palate. "No, no, that's far to honeyed. It might even make her more upset!" He supposed dourly.
So caught up in his paltry excuses, he never noticed the warm aroma of honey and tea mingled in a delightful fragrance that drifted upon the drafts. He barely noticed that the kitchen door was ajar at that the fire had been stoked.
Yet as he padded thoughtfully into the chamber, oblivious that something was out of the ordinary, he immediately noticed the fierce hiss of the griddle slab and the chestnut haired woman standing in front of it, casually flipping pancakes.
The former spinner inwardly cursed his foul luck as he halted like a frightened doe cornered by a ravenous wolf. Of all the places for her to inhabit at that moment! She should have been in the library or her potion chamber at least, brooding or gnashing her teeth in fury; not making breakfast!
She turned her head to him, as though just noticing her slave and gave a faint disarming grin that fell quicker than it sprang upon her lips. Her porcelain skin was pallid as though she had dusted power upon it, and her eyes shimmered with a dark melancholy that flecked her azure orbs.
"Breakfast is nearly done." The vile beauty announced gently in a soft lugubrious tone that belayed her own weariness and despair. "Have a seat." She nudged her head slightly to the two chairs surrounding the table as she turned back to her task of pancake flipping.
Something that felt akin to a two ton boulder lodged in Rum's throat as he gulped in affright at her deceivingly soft tone that sounded all to kind to be true. "P-p-please, mistress, B-Brimstone has y-yet to be fed." He dared point out in a sly, desperate protest to let him slink away in one piece and hopefully not in torment.
It was a dire risk, he knew, one that could have her fly into her inferno of rage at any second, but at that moment, anything seemed better than the tense tranquility between them.
"It's been done." Belle assured him as she dived up the hot cakes on two plates and brought them to the table. "We need to talk."
Rum felt like ice ran through his viens as he dully sank into the chair she proffered to. His muscles were taut, just waiting for the pain he had no doubt was about to be pummeled towards him.
"I'm not angry with you, Rum. You've no need to fear any punishment." The fiend revealed calmly as she busied herself by pouring a cup of warm tea.
A huge breath of relief flagrantly bellowed from his mouth; his tenseness moderately vanquished. Belle never lied of that he knew for certain.
Hunger bolted into him like a streak of lightening after the confession, making his belly growl in expectant want of a meal. With a ghost of a smile he dug into the meal with a relish, to find to his surprise it tasted better than any conjured food she usually summoned up with her powers.
Swallowing a forkful of syrup drenched pancakes, the former spinner flicked his warm maple eyes at her before scooping up another bite. "I didn't know you could cook, mistress." He remarked, trying to banish the awkward silence that only held the sounds of forks and cups clinking.
A reminiscent smile bloomed upon her lips as she took a precarious sip of the steaming brew. "I used to enjoy it, once upon a time. It helped me think. Strange, I haven't done it in literal ages."
"Oh." He replied simply; focusing intently on the meal for he did not know exactly what to say to her.
Silence rained once more between the pair as they stared down at their plates on in their cups, not daring to make eye contact with the other.
"You deserve and explanation." Belle finally said suddenly. She placed her tea cup down and clasped her hands in front of her; eyes mournful and brimming with thought.
Shaking his head down the spinner heaved his shoulders in a shrug. "I am your slave. You owe me no nothing, especially your reasoning."
A mirthless scoff spat past her lips as she rolled her cerulean eyes. "You should realize by now you are more to me than that. And even if you were not, I feel as though your mind should at least mildly comprehend a few things."
Her fingers drummed slowly upon the table in a steady rhythm that fell in melody with her painful thoughts. She looked at the crumbs on her plate as though they were transformed into more than mere scraps into something long forgotten that had briefly sprang to mind.
"As you know, last night I wove powerful magic's. Any user of magic, good or ill will tell you all magic comes with a debt to be paid for such power. And being what kind of magic's I sought to bend to my ends, well-" She paused there suddenly as though momentarily reliving the torment. Pain flashed in her eyes as her jaw clenched determinedly. Once she had gathered herself again with a determined will, she smiled insipidly. "Well let us say, the magic's I wield, requires torment for their powers. My price for such great magic was to…relive memories before I became the Dark One."
Food forgotten, the slave leaned forward in his chair, his whisky brown orbs dancing in intrigue.
"As with you, my tale begins when the vile ogres marched upon my father's kingdom; seeking lavish spoils from our riches and plenty and craving a kingdom of humans to grind under their iron heels. For years our people fought valiantly, but we were a peace loving kingdom and traders by deed and nature.
For years the war dragged on, and I could see it was a loosing battle and that we would be crushed if action was not soon taken." A quiet sigh erupted from her lips as she gave a soft humorless chuckle. "So, I did what any young woman desperate to save her land would do; I sought out a neighboring kingdom with a good military and begged them for aid.
Many were petrified of the towering ogres and their seemingly endless ranks of layered mail and huge broad swords wielded by those hulking monstrosities, and in all told, I only found one with a king willing to aid."
Her eyes took on a faraway look that was nearly similar to the night before, save with far less pain and increasing smolder anger, shimmering in her orbs. "His name was Gaston. He was a young monarch with an age old kingdom his ancestors had spent generation building. He had a well trained army always at the ready and he loved nothing more than to brawl and take foes spoils.
The only that might have surpassed that was his avid affinity for hunting, and the thrill he got preying upon defenseless creatures that were merely struggling to survive.
Seeing a golden opportunity to save our land, I arranged a meeting to plead and strike a bargain for his warriors to drive the mongrel ogres back to their marshes.
From the first moment we met, just by the covetous glint in his iron gray eyes, I knew what he wanted in return for such needed aid - me. He saw me as a new thing to hunt and claim as his trophy and parade about his castle like one of his kills.
At first my stomach roiled, but then the pieces were all put into order. My father was constantly trying to send bachelors my way in hopes I'd marry and unite us with another kingdom or have a male heir to the throne, I would finally be wed, my Papa's kingdom would be liberated, and the marriage would soon unite two kingdoms in riches and power. It seemed like a win win situation for everyone."
"Except you." Rumpel observed quietly; drawing an odd look from his mistress at his words.
Shaking her wandering thoughts away, the vile beauty sipped her tea sparingly once more before continuing. "When all was said and done, Gaston's forces were indeed the last push we needed to turn what looked like a devastating defeat into a startling victory that actually had the ogres of the run at the savagery of Gaston's men.
After the battle I became Gaston's betrothed. And we were soon married and I came to live here as his queen."
Proffering her hand about the palace as if it had escaped her slave's notices she frowned in disgust before her lips curled into a furious sneer. "What you know as the Dark Castle was many centuries ago known branded the Huntsmen's Hall. The place was constantly rife with the noxious odors of tanners making hides and leathers, and great beasts, stuffed and strung up, used to fill every crevice of this place.
The library itself used to be Gaston's trophy room."
At that, a small upturn of her lips flourished upon her features like she had gotten revenge somehow on the ancient Gaston.
"But to continue, life with Gaston was to put it mildly…horrid. He despised books, loved too much ale, constantly rambled about on lavish hunting expeditions to the far reaches of the realms, and dwindled his once grand kingdom near rack and ruin."
Snorting derisively, a bit of anger flared in her eyes as she knocked back a loose tendril of her russet curls in annoyance. "Try as I might to overtly manage and dam his massive spending and waste, I was a 'woman' and therefore all I could possibly do was titter around and look pretty like any other trophy.
I swear if I spent every second of the day running into a corner, people would assume it was perfectly natural for a dimwit woman of noble birth!
But as the years progressed, the coin became sparser and spacer until even Gaston began to realized he needed to do something to bring more gold into the coffers.
My father's kingdom was still flourishing and more prosperous than it had ever been without the ogres invading his land and slaughtering his people, so the brute Gaston devised a plan.
He went to the king of the ogres with gifts of his last gold and pretended to be their friend by giving them information on how to invade my father's kingdom again. If all went accordingly, the scheme was meant to put my father's people into a panic, meaning Papa would call upon Gaston and his army and pay handsomely for his aid.
But the ogres had other plans. Seeing he meant to have them slaughtered and not join them in destroying my father's land, not only did they move before Gaston could put his pieces in order, but after they mercilessly demolished my father's kingdom, and the plot was brought to light, they turned to us.
My father and other refugees managed to escape the carnage, but we could barely feed our people, much less those coming for sanctuary.
The ogres had many more of their evil kin this time as well when they turned their war banners towards us. Much more, and they had fire in their belly's for Gaston's, the traitors, blood.
Seeing that all would be lost unless dire action was taken I frantically searched my small stash of books to find something…anything that might save us all.
I nearly gave up hope when one last book caught my attention that I didn't remember subtly buying from the traders that had once flocked to the Huntsmen's Hall. It was a book that told of great power that could do nearly anything when given a suitable price. Back then I didn't know that the dark magic had sought little, desperate me out to bring it to full, horrid, life once more.
So, desperate as I was, one night a slipped from the castle and through the land to find the source of this power. Suffice to say, I indeed did find it, or it found me rather, and was given a dagger that would serve as my conduit of power.
On the morrow I returned, and Gaston was furious I had seemingly deserted. I tried to tell him; I attempted to show him the blade and reason that I had done so for the greater good, but in his fear and rage my words fell upon deaf ears.
In his fury he lurched to grab me and perhaps even kill me, and that's when I found I had power to fight back."
Belle smiled almost warmly, but in a way that sent a series of frigid shivers involuntarily down the spinner's spine at the corrupted grin.
"I managed to slit his throat with the blade and instantly, I felt more power surge through me. A thrill, such as I had never felt, coursed through me in a rush of insane hunger that I never even knew I had. To know such power would be mine had me quivering in excitement.
Drunk off the sensation, the darkness coerced me to take another life to make my power even stronger. With each life stolen, more unfathomable power would be bestowed upon me. So I slew Gaston's second in command as well."
Her eye became dull, and she visibly flinched as she numbly uttered the words that fell from her lips as a confession of her ancient atrocities. "I slew another, and another, and another, my eyes going blind with red and gore and the sheer magnitude of power bombarding me. Blood washed me in torrents as I laughed and smiled and cackled and sang with their cries of terror and aplomb in mad chorus.
But what were a few lives, I thought, to give me power and keep our people safe."
"And using that power from those you slew, you managed to defeat the ogres." Rumpel concluded warily, his mind reeling in disbelief with her tale.
"No." Belle shook her head mournfully. "I defeated no one. When I journeyed into the land to seek the magic, the darkness bound to the dagger promised no ogre would ravage our homes or kill a single one of our people and I would be endowed with more power than I had ever dreamed. I knew it sounded to good to be true, but fool that I am, I clung to every single word in zealous belief.
It kept it's promise alright, for after I had come into full power there was not a man, woman or child left alive in Gaston's kingdom for our foe to slaughter. The foe coudln't kill what was already dead. And the ogres, so shocked by the sea of gore, by the acrid stench of a bodies rotting and bones bleaching in the sun, and at the mindless butchery to such a vast scale, that none, not even their bravest warriors, dared step a single foot to trespass over to my territory."
Barking a suddenly crazed and yet saddened laugh, which made Rum visibly jump, Belle pointed to the outside in the direction of the haunted, sprawling forest. "Do you know why it's named the accursed forest? Because there used to be towns and villages strewn about there. But centuries and the sands of time have covered it up and turned the hearths into dead ashes and the hovels into tangled undergrowth and haunted darkened glades.
For every tree that grows upon that blood-soaked land is a soul I devoured. I am a mass murderer, Rumpelstiltskin. A true beast. Every day you look into the eyes of a monster; not a person, but a savage animal!"
Caught in the throes of the agony she had once sworn never to speak of again, the beauty clenched her fists tightly; using all her will power to hold back a wellspring of scalding tears. "When you burst into the main hall do you know what I was screaming at so terribly?"
Before he could respond, she laughed again though her throat was thick with emotion and unshed tears. "Myself, Rum, my own bloody self standing over my fathers corpse!"
For a long while both remained quiet, letting the words steep inside them as tea leaves did hot water.
The fiend could see her Rum's mind working in a dizzying inferno of thoughts. Not only was he a slave to the crazed Dark One, he was also captive to a butcher, and blood soaked monster, with a sordid soul blacker than a moonless night and stained with the deaths of thousands of innocence.
"The monster inside of me is dark and seething. It is a tainted beast, and you have every right, and true instincts to loathe and be disgusted by me. I accept your hatred and fear, I understand your terror." Belle admitted lowly, unable to stand the awed silence.
Long minutes ticked by, until the beauty, to craven to turn her gaze to look upon his no doubt horrified and disgusted features, sighed and pushed back her chair to rise.
Wordlessly she gathered their plates and cups and carried them over to the wooden tub to be scrubbed later. She expected nothing from him, but screams of terror, and she counted herself lucky that that had not occurred yet.
But at last he knew the truth, and at least she had finally told someone what had been so long aching in her heart. The pain would never be lifted from her heart, nor the chains of guilt fettering her soul, but it felt liberating in a way to tell some one at long last her crimes that deserved death a thousand times over.
She was about to turn around and silently stalk out the kitchen, to leave him to his duties and no doubt frantic plots to find a way to freedom away from his crazed mistress, when the beauty felt a hand tenderly land on her shoulder and squeeze in a small effort of comfort that it could.
"Power to free yourself and be a hero; to protect those you care for and love. I can't imagine the temptation the magic dangled in front of you." Rum stated in a whisper as he moved to face her fully.
His features were warm and understanding, not stained with harrowing judgment, filling Belle with a light that had been bereft inside her empty, corrupted heart for a very long time. "I can't fathom what acts you've done, and I would be lying through my teeth if I stood here and admitted your tale does not fill me with terror. But I do not hate you. I do not know what to truly make of you or what to think of you, in all honesty. "
"Rum…" The beauty choked his title hoarsely, her chest tight with what might have been the only true happiness she had had in centuries.
There was no judgment, no scorn, no revulsion dancing in his soulful maple orbs that always held his truth. No, her Rum spoke to her now not as a slave, attempting to find favor, but outcast to outcast who knew what it was like to be haunted by ghastly specters in his past.
Some one who had every reason to hate her and yet did not? The astounding thought was nearly unfathomable to the beauty; nearly making her reel in shock.
Silently he knocked a few wayward, straggly dark amber curls from her face tenderly, as though just seeing her clearly for the first time. He offered a small, comforting smile that drew her in to him like a moth to a dancing flame.
Involuntarily, she leaned up and quite unexpectedly and of his own volition, the former spinner tilted forward and met his mouth to hers in a gentle kiss. And for once, it did not make his stomach roil and churn with disgust.