It was getting colder outside. Snow had begun to invade not only the mountain but also the little village below, evidence that it was no longer Fall, but certainly Winter. It was his slow season; the time of the year when no one dared trek up the mountain to make deals. He usually spent more of his time away, simply because it was warmer and busier outside his home. But this year he didn't. He couldn't. After what had happened with the "Queens of Darkness", as he called them, he found himself too spooked. Not for himself, but for Belle. She seemed to have recovered from her ordeal fine enough, but leaving more often meant leaving her alone in the cold castle and he didn't like that. It bothered him, thinking of her stranded by herself in a chilly stone castle, even if he had provided all she needed for the cold weather. Complete isolation for too long seemed cruel, even for him. Of course, the problem with that meant it wasn't one of them enduring the solitude, but the both of them.
Since the incident with Robin, they'd fallen into a schedule that separated them for most of their day. They saw each other at breakfast, at tea, and then from dinner and until they got tired. That had always worked well in the past. They'd been busy doing their own things; her with looking after the castle and its grounds and him with his work. But now, with the Winter, he found himself growing tired of the solitude. Without his deals or trips and the near blizzards that happened daily, he was bored. Nearly as much as Belle was. She wasn't done with cleaning the castle, but with the cold weather taking away her abilities to go outside, her work had slowed significantly. He'd stopped spying on her through the cauldron, just as he'd promised himself he would, and he'd tried to stop teasing her for his own entertainment as well and what he found was that it produced a comfortableness between them that he hadn't had with another human since he'd lived with Baelfire before the curse.
But that was only when they were in the same room.
Lately, once he ran out of work to do in the day and wanted something to combat the boredom, he found himself going to the Great Room to spin. And while months ago, he would have been happy to come into the room and find it empty of her, now he found the emptiness unsettling.
He told himself he sought her out because he was paranoid. He no longer looked in on her from the Cauldron, and unfortunately, the first time he'd done that, she'd been kidnapped. If he wondered where she was for too long, the fear he'd felt on that day when he couldn't find her came back all over again and he wandered the castle in search of her. He always checked the library first, but since the snow had begun, she'd taken to reading outside of her library, finding new nooks and crannies to hide in for reasons he couldn't understand. Sometimes the places he found her in were cozy and warm, other times, they made no sense at all. Like today…
"Oh!" he exclaimed, nearly jumping out of his bones as he found her in another of her unexpected spots. There was a little alcove where the previous King had placed a statue of a gargoyle. He couldn't imagine it was very warm, but there she was, shoved between the stone statue and the stone wall, her legs curled up under her, and her book in her lap. "I, uh…I wondered where you'd scurried off to?" he questioned, using his hands to imitated the practice before wondering why he had. That was a silly thing to do. Nevertheless, she smiled up at him in his awkwardness, and he felt his stomach tighten. He had nothing to say to her. Again. How had he not learned yet?! Time and time again, he came to find her, and time and time again, he found her only to find that he had nothing to say to her once he located her.
"Dusting the books again, I see…" It was a safe comment, a private joke between them. Her favorite method of dusting the books seemed to be reading them.
She smiled at the comment and gave a little nod. "It's, uh…it's my favorite," she admitted with a small blush. What, he wondered, might that be for?
"Oh?" She'd closed the book, but held the cover against her chest. He wanted to get a look at the spine. She had thousands of books up there, it seemed impossible to simply pick one as a favorite. He was curious, which one was it that she was so in love with?
"Yes, the uh…" she cleared her throat, shook her head almost nervously before looking back up at him. "The girl has my name. And it has all the elements that truly make a story great, you know. Far off places, daring sword fights, magic spells, even a prince in disguise."
"It seems to have found a good home then," he concluded, wishing she'd given him a title. It didn't matter that she hadn't. She'd given him a lot to go on, and it was going to be a long Winter. Perhaps sometime after she went to bed, he could make his way up to her library and figure it out for himself. It might keep the boredom away for a few hours.
"Did you, uh…did you…did you need something?" she asked, sitting forward eagerly, as if she wanted him to say "yes".
His mouth went dry. They were back to the same problem already, after barely one conversation. He had nothing to say to her, no reason to tell her why he'd been so curious about where she'd been. Only the knowledge that she looked small sitting in that little space, and cold as well. From this place, he could see snow falling out the window, and it made their Great Room look far more comfortable than this place. Sitting in the Great Room and spinning as she read seemed like a wonderful way to spend the rest of the afternoon until dinner. But how to get her there? He couldn't very well tell her to come and read. She was getting lazy enough on her own. He didn't want her to start thinking that she wasn't here to do chores.
"Ah…the table! In the dining room! It looked a bit dusty to me," he proclaimed suddenly thinking of something quickly enough. It was a lie. One that he had a feeling she knew he was making as she smiled and nodded. She blushed as she marked her page before standing up and running her hands over her long dress to take the wrinkles out. He wanted to offer his hand to help her out of the alcove, so instead, he took a step away. When she was out he led her through the halls and back to the Great Room. Once they were there, she fell out of step behind him as he went to the wheel, and she inspected the table. If she hadn't known he was lying before, then she did now. She'd just cleaned that table and the way she kept the castle, especially this room, it would be spotless. Still, he tried not to look at her as he worked wool on his wheel, and she left the room. A moment later, she returned and made herself busy. She dusted the table that wasn't dusty, and he continued to spin. She made her way around his collection and then dusted it as well as he continued to spin. She brought order to an already ordered room, and he continued to spin, ever aware of every move that she made around him. But it was only when it appeared that she was finishing up that he held his breath. Would she retreat? Go back to the library? Pick a new place to hide? Or would she stay? Perhaps read her book in the chair just like she did after dinner?
When she came back after returning her tools, he was hopeful, but even she seemed torn. He spun on and pretended not to notice, but it was impossible not to take note of the way she looked around the room, then from him to the door, over to his chair, then to the door that would take her down to her own chambers.
"I'm uh…I'll go grab dinner," she finally commented, wiping her hands on her skirt and leaving. He didn't respond to her comment, merely rejoiced at the thought that food was on its way, and that meant that she'd be spending the remainder of the day shut up in the room with him.
He finished off the batch of wool he was working on and checked the thread on the spindle, making sure it was well done. It was perfect, just as always. He sat down at his place at his table and stared into the fireplace. Considering the thread he'd just spun, he'd probably give this spool to Belle. She often did mending, this would be good thread for her to work with. But dinner meant that her work was done for the day. Maybe she'd make that her job tomorrow, that was a simple chore she could do in front of the fireplace, perhaps if she didn't think to do it he could suggest it, or maybe he could put a few holes in some of his shirts to ensure it. That was a good plan. But, of course, it would only take up one day. With the weather the way it was, they'd probably still have a few more weeks like this.
The clinking of china forced his gaze up from the fireplace to the doorway. Belle had returned. And with food in hand. He sat back in his chair, welcoming her service, and tried hard not to smile at her. He did that far too often as it was.
"I uh…I made stew," she declared, setting the table for him. "Should ward against the cold.
He nodded, but again tried not to smile and pulled his arm away so he wouldn't accidentally come into contact with her. When she was done she picked up her own bowl, as she usually did, and sat down to eat. Only she didn't eat. He heard a sharp hiss from her mouth as she sat down and set the bowl down on her legs before flapping her hands in the air. A burn? He'd only just started to shovel the stew into his mouth, but he knew he didn't usually take note of hot and cold the way normal people did. He supposed it was hot. Had she hurt her hands? Did she need healed?
She didn't seem too bad. She kept the bowl balanced there on her lap and stared into the fire, perhaps just giving it time to cool down. He ate another spoonful and tried to focus on something else, anything other than the potential that she was hurt.
He sighed and his mind went back to the conversation they'd had by the statue. Far off places, daring swordfights, magic spells, a prince in disguise…he'd read in his time. He could think of more than a dozen books that had those elements. But only one was her favorite. The woman in it shared her name. That was the biggest hint. Which of the dozen that he'd read had the name "Belle"?
A flinch at the fireplace drew his gaze and his mind back to her. She'd picked up her bowl, but flinched again at it as she squirmed in her seat. Was it that bad? Out of curiosity, he withdrew some of his magic and reached out a finger to touch his own bowl. He removed it quickly. Yes. It was that bad. It wasn't that she'd burned the soup, she must have just pulled it off the fire and not allowed it time to cool. That was his fault, he'd brought her down too early, disrupted her schedule. She was the one who was paying for it now. Ironic, in this place surrounded by snow and ice the worst thing for her was something-
Without warning, Belle was up and out of her seat. The bowl was in her hands but only for a second as she strode quickly to the other side of the table and set it down. He felt his heart stop and stared, watching her actions without inhibition. To pretend to ignore her at a time like this would have been foolish. What did she think she was doing?
As if in answer, he watched as she went back to the fireplace, placed her hands on the chair that she sat in, then gave a tug. And then another. And then another. He tried not to laugh. She was small, so small, and he knew that these chairs were heavy. They weren't the easiest thing in the world to move, and it scraped against the floor with every tug that she gave it in the direction of the opposite side of the table. Her intention was clear. After months of eating in the room with him by the fire, today was the day she dared to do more. Today was the day she dared to take a place at the table.
And he didn't know if he should laugh at her intentions, or shout at her. She was a servant, afterall. There was bold, and then there was brazen. This was both. Taking this step was…courageous? Stupid? Hilarious? He honestly didn't think there was a single adjective that described it. But he knew that it left a feeling in his mind that reminded him of the day he'd first met her at her father's palace. She was an unconventional one. Odd, not only for her age but also for her status, both her present and her former. Odd, outcast, strange…it had been a hundred years since people had called him those names to his face, but as he watched her struggle, it felt like it was only yesterday. Maybe that was why he felt admiration for her. Perhaps she reminded him of himself long ago when he'd wanted nothing more than a hand.
It seemed to take forever for her to move the chair, but she wasn't one to give up. Eventually, she had it in a place that she was happy with. She stood up to full height, and he watched as she rubbed a hand across her forehead, then lowered herself into the seat at the opposite end. She put a napkin gracefully across her lap, avoided his eyes, and picked up her spoon to eat. He watched as she took a few mouthfuls, wondering if she would look up at him as she ate, if she would dare to make eye contact or small talk. He wondered what he would do in such a situation. Would he say something to her? Smile? Frown?
But she never looked up. She just ate. And so he did too.
He stopped watching her, focused on his food, and ate as if there were nothing out of the ordinary even though everything seemed out of the ordinary. He pretended it was normal. When he finished with his dinner, he got up as he normally would, left his dishes behind for her to take care of, and went back to the wheel to finish the spool of thread for her.
When she predictably got up, gathered their dishes back on her tray and left, he let out a sigh he didn't know he'd been holding in. Was he sweating? He hadn't sweat since he was human, why did she make him feel like he was? Why was it that after he'd spent an entire meal watching her and wishing for dinner to be over, all he wanted was to have her back in the room. He shook his head.
Cabin Fever. That was all it was. Being stuck here together during the Winter was bound to have some strange effects on the mind, and this was one of them. They'd be fine as soon as the snow melted, and they could resume their ordinary activities. Activities that would no doubt have him spending less time in her company…
At that sad thought, he looked over at the table and observed the two chairs. It hadn't been like that since Baelfire was here. He hated to admit it, and never would out loud, but he liked it. He liked the time they spent together in this room in the quiet. He liked her boldness and her company. He liked their evenings together by the fire. When the Winter was over, he would be sad to see it go. But it was what it was. It had been well over a hundred years since he'd last enjoyed the company of another human. Perhaps, just this one time, it would be fine to enjoy it.
Before she returned, he rose from his spot at the wheel. He used his magic to put her chair back by the fire, just as she liked it. Then he summoned into his hands the book that she'd been reading, the one she said was her favorite. La Belle et la Bete…interesting. At the sound of feet on the stairs, he set the book on the cushion and quickly returned to his spot at the wheel. Behind him, the windows rattled with wind, reminding him that it was colder out than he could potentially feel. But she might be able to feel it, he realized. With a smile, he summoned a blanket and left it nicely folded on the back of her chair. He started to spin his wheel just as she came into the room, but shifted his eyes from her to the wool in his hand.
She was not as subtle as he was. He knew the second she realized what had been done because she stopped in her footsteps and looked it all over. He averted his eyes when she glanced suspiciously over at him, but returned them when he sensed she wasn't looking. She was beaming, smiling at what he'd left her as she crossed the room to her chair. He felt a fire of pride blaze inside of him as she took the blanket and wrapped it around herself before sitting down to read.
And just like that, all was well again. All was right and ordinary. She read. He spun. The wind blew, the snow fell, and Winter went on. She continued to read. He continued to spin. They relaxed, content in the company they created for one another.
Like I said, in this group of chapters we see a lot of these quiet chapters where there's nothing really happening story-wise, but, boy...there is really something happening. When I was editing, these were the chapters that were lots of fun to read both here and in Moments because they are such "quiet chapters", there's a lot in internal thinking and it's fun to see the places where they make presumptions about each other that are right and those that are correct. And those that they might not even realize! In Belle's version of this, she correctly identifies the reason Rumple comes to look for her is because he's lonely, but here we can see that he doesn't even seem to understand why he does this. It's an interesting dynamic.
Thank you, thank you, thank you Grace5231973 and Jennifer Baratta for your reviews! I hope you'll like the chapters in this small group. Even if they are slower chapters I tend to feel like these are the kind of scenes we always wanted to see as Rumbellers but never could because it wouldn't have made good TV. Good thing there's always Fanfiction! Peace and Happy Reading!
