The Woes of War: Part Fourteen
A/AN: Only six chapters left to go after this one. Thank you all for your continued support of this story.
Nearly a month had passed since Belle suspected she was pregnant. Her suspicions were confirmed when the morning sickness began, along with her detest of certain smells. She brewed herself some herbal tea to help ease her roiling gut. She spent more time away from home, secretly searching for work while her husband believed she was at Wilma's. She didn't want to deceive him, but he'd been adamant in his demand for her not to work. His stubborn pride would cause them all to starve to death this winter if she didn't do something about it. He spun more frequently to make more thread, but it was still a far cry from what they would need to make ends meet.
The wails of the injured and dying caught her attention one evening from afar off as she was purchasing fresh eggs from a local vendor. "What on earth are those sounds coming from?" she inquired to the old woman selling poultry.
"That would be the local field hospital, mam. Word is they're shorthanded on help. There's more wounded coming in than they can keep track of, and they don't have enough beds to house them all. They mostly take volunteers, but the demand for aid is so prevalent that the duke is willing to pay those who can prove their skills," the toothless hag informed her.
"Thank you for the information," Belle said, nodding respectfully, tucking her eggs in her straw basket. She knew Rumpelstiltskin would forbid it, but her hands itched to do something. What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him, she told her guilty conscious.
She marched towards the field hospital, her galoshes creating squishing sounds as she trekked through the deep mud. Her eyes scanned the distance, drinking in the sights and sounds which surrounded her. Women scurried about, carrying buckets of water and clean linens. An array of bodies of the wounded and dying laid side by side under the tent. The quarters were too close, but Belle knew poor villages didn't have the luxury of better establishments. The duke's knights always got preferential treatment and would end up at the paupers' field hospitals. When they were well enough, they would be toted off to the castle for recovery. For most of the poor, it was fighting in hopes of earning a few coppers to bring home to their starving families, but for most of them, this would be their last stop.
Belle strolled past the women flitting about, hoping she could speak to the lead healer. "Excuse me!" she called out, hoping to gain someone's attention over the commotion. She wasn't paying any attention where she was going when a young woman ran right into her.
"I'm so sorry! Forgive me, I was simply hoping to speak to the lead healer of this establishment. I'm looking for work," she supplied, glancing at the young woman with curls of honey blonde hair.
"Belle, is that you?" the young woman queried, sitting her bucket down momentarily.
"Margo?" Belle quizzed, gazing intently at the familiar looking girl.
"Belle, it's me! I thought you were dead!" Margo cried, enveloping her in a tight hug.
"Margo, I can't believe it's really you! How did you escape the village? I went back, but I didn't see any sign of anyone!" she exclaimed as the familiar feeling of hope bubbled up in her chest.
Margo sighed somberly, shaking her head regretfully. "The survivors were sparse, and those of us who lived migrated to surrounding villages. I ventured here with my brother Leif and his wife, Trina," she told her.
"It's wonderful to see you, Margo. It feels so relieving to see someone from my home village and to know they survived," she beamed joyously.
"Aye...but what of you, Belle? Have have you been fairing these last few months?" she inquired.
"It's quite a long story, but I'm married now, and my husband I have a wee one on the way," she smiled touching her abdomen instinctively.
"Such wonderful news! Is your husband fighting in the wars then?" she queried. Belle's gaze flitted about, growing uncomfortable with disclosing the true reason for her husband's discharge from the war. She was becoming weary of the scrutiny. People were so quick to judge them without realizing the true reason of his sacrifice.
"He was discharged after an injury. That's how we met," Belle shrugged, refusing to say more.
"Well as long as he treats you kindly then that's all which matters. However, a field hospital is no place for a pregnant woman. Illness spreads like wildfire here, and you wouldn't want to expose your bairn to it," Margo expressed, touching her flat abdomen which would ripen with child in the coming months.
"Surely there's something I could help with. My skills would be of vital use here," Belle pleaded.
Margo shifted her gaze towards the camp and back to Belle. "Lady Irene is in charge here, and she won't allow a pregnant woman anywhere near the men, but we could use your hands for other things like gathering water and grounding herbs together to make tonics with. I know you're quite skilled at such," Margo expounded.
Belle squeezed her old friend's hand lightly. "Thank you so much, Margo. Could I start working today?" she asked.
"Come back in the morning. I'll need to speak to Lady Irene first," she supplied, picking back up her bucket. "I must get back to work, but I'll see you in the morning, Belle," Margo stated, bidding her farewell.
Belle stalked back towards the village, heading in the direction of home. Her heart was laden with dread, but telling Rumpelstiltskin would only complicate matters. She would need to do this discreetly. As she opened the door she was met by his cross gaze.
"Where were you, Belle? I expected you home hours ago! Wilma stopped by to purchase some thread, and I asked her about your outing yesterday. She said she hadn't scheduled any outing with you which means you lied to me!" he remarked accusingly, distress flashing in his sable depths.
Belle sighed exhaustively, placing her basket on the table. "I've been searching for odd jobs around the village without any luck. The lady who sold me these eggs pointed me in the direction of the field hospital. I ran into a girl from my old village, Margo. She says they wouldn't allow me to assist the wounded, but I could be used in other ways such as gathering water and mixing herbs for tonics," she admitted, averting her gaze shamefully.
He touched her cheek lightly, caressing it affectionately with his thumb. "I'm not going to pretend I'm not upset or displeased by your actions, but I'm at fault too. I shouldn't have forbade you from doing what you were passionate about," he apologized. She gazed up at him with tears welling in her eyes.
"I promise to be cautious, Rumple. If it becomes too strenuous, I'll stop. It'll only be a few days a week at most," she vowed.
"Alright, but I expect a full report every day, and If I feel it's too much for you, you'll stop," he proposed.
"Deal," she nodded compliantly.
"And no more lying. We promised to be honest with each other," he said, cradling her face in his hands amorously.
"Absolutely. I'm sorry for withholding the truth from you, Rumple. I'll never do it again," she returned, leaning into his touch.
He brushed a kiss against her brow. "I love you, Belle," his eyes glimmering with ardor.
"And I love you too, Rumple," she sighed, thankful she had a husband so willing to forgive her when the world had shunned him. Belle thought it was a true miracle he hadn't allowed it to make him bitter despite the cruelty it'd bestowed upon him. He held more love in his heart than anyone she'd ever met, and she was grateful that heart belonged to her.