When he left, he'd assumed that his trip to Camelot would take a few days. He hadn't expected he'd be back that very night. If he'd known that he wouldn't have told Belle he was going away, merely left her in the night without her ever having to know. He could announce his arrival in the morning but then…living in a vast castle without having someone know you were there did have its advantages. He'd trusted her on her own once with Robin Hood and regretted that decision even if he felt it had turned out the way it was meant to. It dawned on him as he returned that there were going to be more times like this throughout his life, times that he was going to have to leave and be busy while she was left alone in the castle and he was going to have to trust her. But trust was a lot easier with knowledge. So far, his knowledge told him that she was a risk who could betray him. He wondered if that was how it was always to be.
For that reason alone, when he concluded his business in Camelot, he returned to his tower and kept his arrival a secret. When he cast his eyes to the cauldron, he could see that his maid had done nothing out of the ordinary that night. The kitchen was clean of whatever dinner she'd made for them and eaten by herself, and she was laying in her cot in the dungeons. A sad picture it was too. She'd been here long enough, he figured she might be able to work a bit better with a nice bed…but he'd already showed her mercy where Robin was concerned and given her enough clothes that she was starting to garner quite the collection. And worst of all, she was smart enough to know all that. The last thing he needed to do was show her more favor. Maybe, one day, she would earn a bedroom, but not today.
He spent his next day in his workshop. He checked on Belle periodically throughout the day, curious as to what she would do with a day on her own. In between watching her, he worked on the Gauntlet. He was able to add his potion to it, the one that would recall it to him should he be separated from it. He was able to use it on the Gauntlet, to touch it, but he found he was unable to put it on his hand. He knew that was necessary for the magic to work, as Guinevere had demonstrated, but when he slid it on he found that it burned so much he had to remove it. Not even his magic could cool the hurt he felt with it on. He should have known. Merlin was a crafty one. He hadn't known him, but he had known Nimue. Anything he'd placed a spell on to prevent her from using would work on him as well.
But he wasn't about to give up the ability to use it over a glitch. He knew better than to give up. All spells and curses could be broken in time, he just needed the time required to break it. And perhaps to do a little experimentation on it. He was persistent. Almost as persistent as his maid.
When he got frustrated, he found that he was delighted to watch her, though he admitted to feeling some disappointment as well. He'd hoped to catch her doing something or other he might be able to lord over her; something that might curb some of her attitude. But, unfortunately, he found she was diligent in her work. She stuck to her schedule, even in his absence. In the morning, she rose and worked on one room, like normal. She took tea by the fire, alone, but otherwise normally. Though he noted that she seemed rather bored without his company. Afterward, she cleaned another room, took her dinner in his chair by the fire, all typical behavior. Then went to bed like normal and woke up again as she always did. She could be distracted, looking over at his objects when she should have been concentrating on what she was reading, but she didn't touch. Mostly…
The worst he saw was in his own tower. She'd nearly caught him one afternoon. After making a trip to her library and taking a book she began searching for something. He watched as she climbed stairs to a tower and it wasn't until he heard the noise behind him that he realized she was nearly behind him. He grabbed the Gauntlet and cast the spell to turn himself invisible as she arrived and looked around. He was nearly giddy with excitement, holding still and watching what she might do. But in the end, all she'd done was take a quill and some ink. For a moment he dared to think she'd do something dramatic like try to write a letter to her family. But then he observed the book in her hand was on learning a new language. She'd probably just wanted some practice.
She did pause for a moment. Her eyes drifted as they did all day long to some artifact or other he happened to have out on the same desk as the paper she stole. He held his breath as he watched her fingers stretch out over the object, then lower as if to touch it…
But she didn't do it.
In the end, she snatched her hand back and held it close to her chest. She sighed as she shook her head and moved away. She took the quill and ink she'd found and moved away in a hurry. He dropped the spell and promptly hurried off to his cauldron to locate her, leaving the Gauntlet forgotten on a table. She was going down the staircase. She'd set the ink and quill aside and was going into the Great Room. The fire flared as she entered, and he watched as she went to the cabinet on the opposite side.
She was looking for something, rummaging about on the bookshelves, going through book after book, sliding them this way. He knew she was looking for something. But what. She had her book. She had quill and ink, what more…
Paper.
Going through the list in his head, it was obvious. She had what she needed to learn, she had what she needed to write, but nothing to write on. He wrote in his books all the time, but she guarded that library of hers with a keen eye. She'd probably die before she wrote in one of those books. Then again, there were other things that could kill the poor girl…like snooping about in places she didn't belong.
He watched as she turned away from the shelves and her eyes roamed over the cabinet. Beowulf's sword was stored there. He'd caught her looking at it more than a few times over these last few days. Knowing her, she was dying for an excuse…and it seemed she was finally going to take it.
She grabbed a step stool that he'd seen her use to clean, set it before the cabinet, and pulled the doors open. He wasn't going to let her go on like this much longer and he smiled at the thought of interrupting her at just the right time. It was one thing to know something about her and bring it up in conversation, it would be another thing entirely to catch her in the act…like the moment she stopped searching for her paper and hauled the sword into her hands to examine it closer.
"Don't cut yourself, dearie!" he exclaimed.
He beamed as she gasped and juggled the sword, trying to gain her composer. That had been a better entrance than he thought it would.
"I'm so, so sorry!" she exclaimed. "I thought-"
"You thought I would be away for a few more days and it would be fine to play with my…toys!" he finished for her, plucking the sword out of her grasp.
"Well, you did say that I-"
"Oh! I lied!" he declared. "I wanted to see how the mouse would play when the cat was away. And the mouse has done very little cleaning…" he stated, dragging his finger across the table. Not a spec of dust clung to his flesh. But it was no matter. She had a tendency to get riled up when he chastised the work she did. After days of watching her silently sulk around the castle and being on his own watching her, he felt the urge to be entertained. Even if the conversation was simple, he sat on the edge of his seat just to see what she'd have to say.
"It's just that you've so many things here! From all over the world…I was curious!" she exclaimed without even trying to deny his lies as he set the sword upon the table. "And…you never talk about them!"
"Well…you're the help!" he reminded himself as a small hand of guilt seized over his heart. They were his things, and she was nothing but the maid, it wasn't his job to entertain her or explain what he brought into the castle. But she, obviously, didn't feel the same way. He watched as her eyes hardened and focused on him in a way that made him feel like he'd swallowed his own tongue. She lunged at him, unexpectedly strode over to him until her face was practically in his own.
"And you're rude!" she spat in his direction.
He never liked to back down from an argument, but few were as audacious as she was to come right up to him and make their arguments. He had to fight the instinct to take a step back away from her and cower.
"Well, I can be much worse," he threatened with a sneer. He wasn't about to back down, not to his maid, not to this small slip of a woman. She was his property, she was just a living breathing artifact he'd taken away from one of his deals. He'd given her privileges while she was here, but he could take them
"But you're not," she rebelled, her eyes staring right into his own before she finally began to move again. "Look…" she hopped up onto their table and maintained her gaze, but he was grateful for the distance between them. She had a smell to her, a very distinct smell that lingered under soap and cleansers and food. The scent of lemon was distracting when she was so close. "You have seen the world, something that I have always wanted to do, yet you share nothing!"
"Mouthy, mouthy!" he observed. "And foolishly brave." Her so-called "argument" was moot. She'd brought up no new points, no different perspectives, and that meant his opinion was the same. She was his property. He didn't have to share anything with her. The fact that he was awarding her this conversation while she was attempting to pry was merely a courtesy. In truth, he only conversed with her because he needed something to do. Now, as she stared at him with disbelieving eyes, he was starting to believe he'd made a mistake.
"You know, if you were going to kill me…you would have done it long ago."
Oh, and she didn't know how true her words were and how painful as well. For as long as he could remember, he had done what he wanted when he wanted, but once the Seer passed her powers on to him it meant that there were few who were safe from his grasp: Regina, Snow White, even Cora in a strange way. And now, unfortunately for him, Belle was one of those individuals. He couldn't kill her. And all because the damn Seer wouldn't reveal her importance in his future! He hadn't wanted her to know that though…what had he done wrong that she no longer feared him? Was it because he'd let Robin live? If it was, she was wrong. He just couldn't explain it to her. Was it because he'd given her clothing? That wasn't for her! It was so he didn't need to be distracted by worrying about her clothes falling apart and obviously that had failed him because she was wearing the blue dress now, which was supposed to be safe, but the way she'd arranged her corset and tightened her stays her breasts were practically spilling out of it! Perhaps it was because he hadn't locked her room at night. Maybe they needed to consider going back to that, just to get the upper hand back.
"Now, tell me what you've seen!" she urged with bright, happy eyes. "How was your trip to Camelot?!"
A smart man in his position would have given her a false answer, sent her back to her dungeon, locked her inside, and gone back to work. But after nearly two days alone in the tower he wasn't too keen on solitude…also something he couldn't explain to her. Not to mention, those "bright, happy eyes" mixed with that particular dress...he found it difficult not to answer her.
"Good for me…not so good for Camelot."
And damn him…when she smiled like that it didn't make him want to stop the way it should. Perhaps if he busied her, gave her some work to do, she wouldn't be such a tempting distraction and they could both get something done…
Into his hands, he summoned the Gauntlet from his tower. "A souvenir!" he explained passing it off to her. "Clean it for me, will you?!"
It was unlikely a good cleaning would remove Merlin's spells, but anything was worth a try where that man was concerned. Hell, if she came back and he found it did work, he'd take a bucket of whatever she'd used and scrub his tower raw himself just to gain access.
"Ah…well…what is it?" Belle asked, turning it this way and that in her own hands.
"The Magic Gauntlet! With a very specific power…it can locate anyone's greatest weakness!" he answered without pausing to ask himself why she was answering her.
"Mmm…how ominous…" she muttered. "Wait, but…why do you need this?" she exclaimed suddenly. "With all your power, you could destroy any foe!"
Very interesting. So she admitted that he had the power to destroy others, but she also had come to the conclusion that he wouldn't do it to her. The woman was far too intelligent for her own good.
"Ah, if you must know, it's about manipulation," he answered. "And for that…you must find one's weakness, and for almost everyone that weakness is the thing they love most. This will simply point me in the right direction!"
Or at least it would if he could put the damn thing on without Merlin's magic reacting poorly to his own. But he wondered…would Belle try it on? Could she work it? For a moment, he could see himself back up in his tower watching her clean it just to see if she would try until he heard his conversation with Nimue clear and crisp in his mind…
"I've more important things to do."
"Ah yes…finding your son and eyeing that maid of yours in the cauldron."
Was that her perception of him? Finding his son was his first priority, but watching Belle hardly was. Perhaps it was time to rid himself of that little habit. When she'd been under her father's roof or Robin had been here that was one thing, spending the last two days watching her when he could have been doing other things…maybe he needed to stop watching. Maybe he needed to stop worrying over her, stop using her for entertainment or sport. Maybe he needed to stop seeing her as anything other than a maid.
"But I don't understand-"
"Which isn't my problem!" he snapped angrily, though he wasn't sure what she'd done in the last few seconds to warrant a response like that from him. "I've answered your questions, you've done very little cleaning! Between the two of us, you've been downright rude and lazy!"
He watched as her eyes widened and became steely and cold all over again. He'd touched a nerve. More than that. He had the feeling that this time around he might have gone too far with her and didn't understand why he cared.
"Off! Off you go! I want that spotless before dinner! Or next time the cat leaves, the mouse will find herself very unhappy with the new rules."
I remember writing this scene for Moments and leaving hints behind that he wasn't gone but rather just up in his tower ignoring her. Shifting the story and letting him watch her during this time was fun.
Thank you Jennifer Baratta and Grace5231973 for your reviews on the last chapter. I really was happy to hear you thought it was alright. I'm curious to hear what you think of this chapter, there's a lot of subtlety that I added to this chapter. I did it to show where his head is at when he's not thinking about it. There are a couple of places where he uses a plural pronoun for the pair of them ("they") done to show in his head he's already thinking of them as a unit in some way. There are times that you are meant to see that he recognizes her as an equal, she gets angry at him, she stands up to him, she yells, but he doesn't kill her and in fact he often has the feeling of wanting to back down because she does it. Then there is that other little thing I mentioned before that also comes into play here. No one has guessed it yet, so I'm happy to point it out. Anyone notice that he's stopped calling her "girl"? Yeah...that happened back with Robin Hood. I forget which chapter exactly, but there is one specific point where the chapter starts with him thinking about her as "girl" and by the time it ends she's a "woman" and he never thinks of her as anything else again. This chapter really showcases that. Of course, you know where we're going next, so let's move forward, shall we! Peace and Happy Reading!
