.
Rumplestiltskin checked his satchel once again. The spools were anchored to the inside of the bag. A leather strap covered the threads so they would not fray or snag. What bread they had left was stuffed with shreds from last night's dinner. If they stopped for honey bread, there was no reason Bae should go hungry during the long day ahead.
His own belly was another matter. Though porridge was filling, it never seemed to last the whole day.
"Papa, I'm so excited! We get to ride a horse!" Bae hopped around his father and wiggled in anticipation. "I haven't ridden since Morraine's Mama had to sell theirs last spring!"
"Bae, you mustn't jump around when the horse gets here. You might spook it and then we won't be able to ride." It had been far longer than a few months since Rumplestiltskin had been in a saddle, and he wasn't looking forward to it. Horses were not pleasant animals when they were loaded with an armored man among noise, filth, and blood.
"Won't this be fun, Papa?" Bae put his ear to the door to listen for hooves.
"Riding for hours is less fun than you might think. I'm bringing extra blankets for you to sit on." Bae need to stay warm but the extra padding would prevent soreness as well as sliding out of the saddle. He carefully wrapped Bae in his cloak and made sure his clothes were securely fastened against the cold. When he reached for his own cloak, he smiled. The hood was well mended, though not as neatly as he might have been able to manage himself. It didn't matter, it was on and that was what mattered.
The edges were tucked back and smooth again as well. It wasn't a big change, nothing anyone would really notice, but he felt far less shabby without bits trying to fray off everywhere.
In a few short hours, she had done that. Such a small favor, but he was able to repair the wheel as she did, her presence an excuse to stay close by, extending the life of the tool his and Bae's lives depended on.
He needed to repay her, but how? She was well fed and had a horse. What could he possibly give her?
"Papa! I think I hear a horse coming!"
Presently, there was a soft knock at the door. Rumplestiltskin stilled his suddenly fluttering hands and opened the door.
"Hello, Belle."
She grinned and dropped her hood. "Hello, Rumple. Hello, Bae." Belle's dress dragged through the dirty snow by his stoop as she lightly looped the ends of the reins over a rail. The hemp bales that protected his doorway obscured his view of the horse. Bae could not see, either, and he jumped up and down, using his father's arm for leverage, tugging him over as he tried to offer his thanks.
"Bae," Belle said, her eyes wrinkling at the corners. "Do you want to go look at the horse?"
"Yes!"
She knelt down and Bae gave his full attention. "Then you need to settle down. He doesn't know you, and you don't want to scare him. Go introduce yourself, then you can give him this." Belle pulled a carrot from her pocket and gave it to Bae. "If you can do that, you'll be friends with him in no time."
With all the effort a seven year old could muster, Bae took a deep breath, let go of Rumplestiltskin's sleeve, and calmly walked around the bales to where the horse was tied. Belle stepped aside and Rumplestiltskin followed out to watch.
It was not a fashionable horse. He'd seen the fine boned, color splashed mounts the ladies rode during his visits to Longbourne. Those horses were meant for show and light riding, for their delicacy and prancing gait made them prone to injury. Belle's horse had the unimpressive coloration of a plow horse and a thick head that might best a goat, but it had the bones and muscle of a well-made traveler.
Belle, unaware of his gaping, or perhaps the reason for it, patted the saddle and gave him a hopeful smile. "Will this work? He should be able to make it there and back without any trouble. The stable boy told me his foot was all healed up."
"He'll do fine." He said, finding his tongue. Belle tugged at her skirts and picked her way over to help Bae find the horse's favorite spots for a scratch. As Bae giggled, Rumplestiltskin smiled and checked the saddle, tossing a blanket up over the horse's neck. He set himself to devise a way to secure his goods. "You don't have any ties, do you?"
"I'm sorry, no. My travel bag attaches directly to the saddle."
A saddle and matched bag? Rumplestiltskin decided to think about that later, and ducked inside to get some rope. He made a few quick loops and flipped the loose rig over the horse's back and tied a series of knots. "This will do for when we come back. I want him to feel the rope before it has any weight." He gave a final tug to secure the harness, then stopped abruptly. "Belle, what's his name?"
With a shrug, she shook her head. "I was in a rush, but I call him Friend. He seems to like that."
Nodding, acutely aware of the hour, Rumplestiltskin knocked a few hemp bales off a stack and cautiously led the horse alongside them. "Bae, climb up here. Get in the saddle and hold still. Be careful!"
Once Bae was safely in place, Rumplestiltskin leaned his staff against the stack of bales and made a final circuit, leaning against the horse for support, letting it get used to him and generally delaying. Belle followed, curiously watching as he checked the saddle and his ropes again. When they reached a hindquarter he ran out of excuses and came to a stop.
"Is something wrong, Rumple?" Her blue eyes flashed with concern.
With a quick glance up at Bae, who was following his instructions, he took a deep breath and spoke softly, without looking up. "Belle, do you call me 'friend'?" Nervous and perhaps a bit ashamed of how desperate he must sound, he hung his head, pretending to examine his ropes. Her silence told him nothing except perhaps that he'd pushed too hard, asked for too much.
Just as he about to make the effort to shift his weight again, he felt a touch on his shoulder. It never ceased to startle him, to feel the touch of another.
"Yes, Rumplestiltskin. I think of you as a friend." He picked his head up to look at her face, lovely despite the reddening of her nose from cold and the escaped curls she tried to tie to save them from the kitchen. "I- I think of you as a very dear friend."
She stepped closer, her warmth touching his side as she leaned into him. Rumplestiltskin's eyes drifted closed when the cold tip of her nose touched his cheek, followed by a gentle press of her lips. She stepped back and when he opened his eyes, her cheeks were bright pink as well. His stomach flipped.
"Papa? Can we go now?" Bae was restraining his excited wiggles, but he was going to lose that battle soon.
Rumplestiltskin stood fully and pulled his hood up. "Ah, well, yes. We should… I suppose."
He felt less a fool when Belle started stammering and pointing in the direction of the tavern, her eyes glancing at his mouth every so often. "Right, yes, I've got to… bread and pies." She pulled her own hood on and stepped around him carefully.
"I'll have him back in the stable by nightfall." He called as he clambered onto a bale to mount the horse.
"Right! Yes." She tugged the too-long skirts and straightened her cloak. The dress was ill suited to her, but it was what she had, he supposed. Once he was in the saddle she stopped and handed him his staff. "Safe journey, Rumple."
He took it, knowing that the look he was giving her was too hopeful, too full of longing. He wasn't sure he cared. There were going to be only so many opportunities like this. "Till I return, dear."
…
…
Belle dragged her skirts, Ruby's really, through the snow and felt the wet creeping into her stockings. It wasn't too bad, she thought, since most of the snow could be brushed away.
When she reached the square, her bucket was still by the well where she'd left it. Delivering the horse to Rumple was the side errand to Granny's barked order to fetch water.
A few village women stood by, standing close to each other and chatting as they took turns hauling their water and Belle greeted them as she took her place to wait her turn. The chatting grew low and hushed, and Belle's mind wandered. Rumple would be gone for the day, so she would have no more chances to think quietly by herself. With the kitchen in full swing, for better weather meant more travelers would stop for food and drink, she would scrub and fetch and knead for the rest of the day. The smallest maids no longer struggled to heft great burdens because Belle had grown stronger in the last weeks. She spared them the heavier work their bodies could not manage.
She was no martyr, though. Belle never wanted to be anything but a dutiful daughter, a just leader, and, hopefully, a good wife to a man she liked and perhaps even loved. It hadn't seemed like so much to ask when she had maids who cinched her corsets and made sure the sheets of her bed were smooth and neat. Now, with her stockings growing damp and the cold beginning to chill her through her cloak, it was tempting to imagine that she was the heroine of a great tale, undertaking hardship for glory.
Another woman lowered her bucket and Belle was next in line, so she leaned up against the edge of the well.
Belle watched the side road that led to the tavern, wondering how many would be arriving throughout the day. The sun was high, glazing the surface of the hard packed snow with patchy wet ice and making a treachery of the ro-
SPLASH
Belle leapt up, dripping with icy water and gasping from the shock.
"Oh no, dearie!" The woman at the crank drawled sweetly. "The bucket must have slipped! Best rush off before you catch your death."
Slinging water from her arms and pulling the frigid cloak away from herself, Belle expected a pair of hands to help her, or a fresh cloak to drop around her shoulders. All that came was her bucket, kicked in her direction. She pulled a hank of wet hair away from her mouth, about to accept the apology when she saw the faces of the remaining women at the well.
They stood as a wall, blocking her path back to the well. "I- I need to get water."
"Heavens no, dearie." Said one. "You really must go and come back once you're dry. Perhaps when there's no one else around to have an accident."
"Yes." Said another. She smiled. "You really should be careful. Wouldn't want to ruin your clothes."
The woman at the crank laughed. "You might need to mend them."
They laughed in unison as if there was some great joke, but Belle, already wary of attention in the village and terrified that she'd attract even more, simply took her bucket and left, her skirts now completely wet and dragging even worse over the icy stones. The skirts slicked water over the sheet of ice and she slipped, banging her knee on the hard ground. Belle pulled herself up, refusing to let their laughter shame her, and slung her wet cloak over her shoulder so she could lift the skirt and limp back to the kitchen door.
Granny took one look at her and scoffed. "Took your sweet time, girl. Go get changed and tie your skirt up this time. No one's husband to see your ankles back here."
Belle slumped off to her shared room and dug in her drawer for clothes. She pulled out her other shift, thankfully clean, and took Ruby's least revealing dress and tied it on. Her spare stockings slid on and she closed the drawer knowing she would have to stay up late to wash her clothes.
Belle stayed hidden in the kitchen for the afternoon, stopping only to eat a few hasty bites of stew and bread before scouring pans and loading platters with bread and a few scrapes of butter. Ruby left with loaded plates and returned with ones scraped clean of all but the scantest smudges of grease or gravy, signs of the hunger that came with cold.
She would like to see Rumplestiltskin able to feast like the tavern visitors seemed to. The man was never going to be big like Gaston, but when she'd brushed her body against him earlier, the bones of his shoulder had felt more prominent within his skin than was right. The man was not starving, though that was hardly a measure of being well.
Warmth crept along her neck when she thought of him and she paused in her scrubbing. He was so kind, so gentle. Gaston would never have stood still as she kissed his cheek. He would have gripped her by the bodice and demanded a real kiss. It made Belle wonder whether court was really a place that made refined people to command the realm, or just overbred, stable bound ponies fit for little but show.
Without a war, Gaston's suit would not have been truly considered, but the conflict made the chaperones, escorts and her own father lenient and prone to not seeing the truth.
A loud bang shook the timbers of the tavern and made Belle flinch. The heavy front doors slammed against the frames as loud men filed in, and a deep voice shouted for Ruby. "Where is my favorite wench, today? My men are hungry and we have been thwarted in our first errand in your village. We are in need of comfort."
Ruby's voice cut through the men's rumblings. "You'll find no comfort here but what comes in a wooden barrel."
Laughter filled the tavern. "Then, dear lady, serve and we will be merry."
Ruby came through the kitchen doors a moment later. "Granny, we're going to need a lot of food and soon. That group of soldiers is back."
Granny started lining up a row of platters and pans. 'What do they want? I've only got one pie ready and there's the morning's bread. The roast isn't ready till evening, ."
Ruby slipped her hands through five mug handles each and headed out. "Load everything and make sure there's more on the way." Once she was back in the tavern, Belle marveled at the ability she had to change her voice and manners to suit the customers. The soldiers teased and Ruby gave it right back, never missing a beat or letting them fluster her. The men grumbled at the lack of food but the noise became contented once there was bread and ale on their table.
The deep voice spoke again when Red took out the meat pie. "You sadden me, lass. You have not asked what errand we failed at."
"Well, you cannot possibly have failed but for treachery. Fine soldiers like these cannot be beaten by honest means." The sound of clanking pewter and toasts heralded the men's approval. "Not only that, I've no need to ask. With a mouth as big as yours, you're bound to tell me anyway." Belle smirked at the hoots and table banging that always followed Ruby's jibes.
"You wound me! I came to see a man in this village who makes rope." Belle cringed. She hated the very word now. "He was nowhere to be found, and now my men are in need of ale to help forget who we travel with."
Ruby stood with her back by the door, ready to return to the kitchen. "And who do you travel with?"
The men grumbled and one spoke up. "We are elite soldiers of the king, commanded by Hordor himself," The men thumped their mugs and slapped the table. "And we escort little hooded monks from one end of the realm to the other when we should be returning order to the provinces torn by war."
There were loud clatters and the musical tinkle of cutlery as a fist banged on the table. "If they King says it is our mission, he has his reasons." The pewter struck the table once more. The louder one had taken another draught. "The King knows his mind."
The pot that Belle was scrubbing had fallen flat upon the work table. Ruby swept in with the first load of platters and dumped them in front of Belle. "Get to work. The suppers will be ready soon. Granny gave some of the girls the evening off so you're working for two."
Belle's hands were frozen on the lip of the heavy pot, but she nodded and lifted the brush once again, unwilling to appear ungrateful or lazy. Hostage to the plates and bowls, she kept to the edge of the table to stay completely out of sight and worked, delivering clean dishes and utensils to Granny who promptly slopped roasted meat and potatoes, steaming stew, and wedges of pies and bread upon them for Ruby to carry back out to the tavern. More and more people came, as the good weather allowed them out for the first time in a week.
Afternoon gave way to evening and the noises from the soldier's table indicated that they were both sated and just shy of being too drunk to ride. The loudest one called out for Ruby.
"Where is the wench? We must leave and the King will settle my men's debt." Ruby sighed and stuck her tongue out at Belle as she headed for the door. Belle strained to listen over the clanking and chatter from the tavern.
"I heard you, and if you're going to call me wench, I'm going to call you 'hog', for that is how you eat." The men laughed and banged the table.
"Then, shall we call a truce? I am called Hordor."
"Then you may call me Ruby. If I were a wench I would have poured your ale over your head by now." Belle admired Ruby's ferocity. Years of waiting on ruffians had given her the kind of poise she wasn't sure she had herself. Then again, court had a way of encouraging smiling lies rather than straightforward jousting.
"I probably deserved it, Mistress Ruby. I would settle the bill for my men."
"You can see Granny on the way out. She handles the coin." A chair scraped across the floor.
"Actually, Ruby, I'd like to ask you a question. There could be gold in it for you." Belle set down her armload of plates and snuck close to the door to listen. "You see all the travelers that come through your town. They all stop here, for it is the only place for hours to eat and drink with a room and stables."
"It is. We don't overcharge and we don't feed rotten hay. Your purse is safe here."
"Which is why the King has never sent me with his clerks to check your taxes. The King knows all that happens in his realm. That's what I do for him. Tell me, have you seen any strangers in the village lately? Perhaps a month ago? Maybe more?"
Belle suddenly found it hard to draw breath and her skin pricked as though rubbed with nettles.
Ruby answered coolly. "I don't see much apart from the inside of the tavern."
"But you hear everything, and anyone travelling would have to stop here."
"Only if they didn't have family here." Ruby countered.
Hordor laughed. "No one leaves these villages. Not even the coward!" The previously silent tavern rumbled with guffaws. "Again I ask, dear Ruby, have you seen strangers? A woman, perhaps?"
The quiet was stifling. Belle could count her rapid heartbeats and feel the sweat beading on her upper lip. Granny, in the next room of the kitchens, huffed and raised a huge spoon. The entire tavern jumped when she smacked a large metal bowl, the loud crash breaking the quiet. "She only notices the handsome men. Now, pay up and move along. You're distracting her from her work."
Belle fled to her room, ignoring the girls loading bread into baskets and knocking over a stack of dirty dishes. With shaking hands, she hauled her travel satchel out of the closet and slapped at the dried mud that still clung to it. Dust flew at her face, choking and blinding her. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
Coughing, the taste mud coating her mouth, she pulled her drawer from the chest and let it bang to the floor. She'd leave here tonight, as fast as she could. The next town couldn't be more than a few hours ride away, and the weather was good, even if it was getting dark. Belle threw her few remaining clean clothes and all her dirty, wet things into the bag and shoved her travel dress on top.
Traveling at night was risky, but it was just a few hours on a seldom used road. A seldom used road that was cleared- one of the King's roads. Belle slowed, feeling the frustration bite at her.
The soldiers would be on the King's road. The soldiers were escorting clerics.
With a helpless sob, she crumpled to the floor, clutching wet stockings and her bags of coin. They were lighter than when she left home.
Belle wiped at her face and saw dirty streaks on her thin sleeve. She was poorly prepared for flight. The dress she wore was suited to the heat of the kitchen, and her boots still damp. If she left now, she'd freeze to death. She didn't even have gloves, and her hands were cracked and dry from working in the kitchen. Holding reins, they would be bleeding in a day.
She surveyed the chaos, slim possessions on full display. One dress, a cloak, two pairs of stockings, two shifts, some undergarments, boots, a bag, and a couple small handfuls of coins from the bags and her bodice were all that she had now. Not enough to purchase loyalty or freedom. Barely enough to keep fed for a few weeks, but not enough to stay warm, too. Food was of no use if she was dead from the cold, she could not live outdoors for the rest of winter, waiting for King George to come to the manor house at Longbourne, and she could not travel across the kingdom to his castle in the middle of winter.
Sharp realization began to cut into her. Up to now she'd only played at being afraid. She may have dreamed of adventure, but the reality of being hunted and cowering was not mentioned in her childhood books. They described the triumph, not the dirt, the tears, or the fear that frequently surfaced in her mind once she sat still for too long.
There were footsteps in the hall. Belle scrambled to hide in the closet, but tripped on the mess she'd made, painfully striking her knees on the plank floor.
"It's only me, girl. Calm down." Granny scolded from the doorway. "They're gone for now. Put your things away, you're not going anywhere tonight. The winds are up and it's going to blow colder soon, anyway."
"I'm sorry if I scared the girls." Belle sniffed. "Or broke a plate."
"Those girls have seen scarier things than a woman run from a room. And you can clean extra to make up for the plate." Granny handed her a clean kitchen cloth to wipe her face. "I just came to tell you that some of the village women talked to that soldier outside. Might want to see to your horse, keep him ready."
Belle got up off her knees and stood. "My horse isn't even here right now." She shook her head at herself. "I couldn't have left anyway."
"Where is it? You didn't sell it did you?"
"No, I loaned him to a friend for the day."
Granny saw the slight softening in Belle's face. "You be careful. And don't make me regret hiding you."
"I won't. I promise."
Granny left and Belle pulled her heavy dress from the bag. The little tears and snags in the wool still needed mending. Rumplestiltskin's spool of silvery- blue thread still sat on top of the drawers, waiting to be used, but she hadn't found the time yet. She would need to soon, for it would not stand much wearing without a few repairs unless she wanted it to unravel around her. Especially since she'd opened a few finger lengths of the seams where the coins were hidden and hid those in a bag under a floorboard.
Her nails bent as she pried the board up and tucked the bag at the bottom of her travel satchel. She looked at her hands. The skin was tight and hard across her fingertips. She doubted she could even hold a needle properly right now, and certainly not without jabbing herself or bleeding onto her dress or Rumple's lovely thread.
With an exhausted sigh, Belle dragged the drawer back to the dresser, cleared the floor and shoved her half full bag in the corner. Then she crawled into her cot and fell into a chilly, uncomfortable sleep.
.
Happy New Year!