I do not own Once Upon a Time
Chapter 15 Through the Valley of Shadows
Winter was bitter and long. No amount of board games, stories, or tumbling play in the nursery could quell the restlessness Belle knew that Bae felt. She let him venture out in the frozen landscape a half hour when the weather allowed, but the walls of the manor, no matter the size within, seemed to threaten to close in on them without notice, if they did not escape soon.
Belle often wondered how Mr. Gold stayed as sane as he did, never venturing outside of the large estate, never seeing other people besides the staff and the very few he let see him. Was it no wonder that he seemed happy in her company and seemed to invite her to conversation more frequently as of late? He had not the energy that Bae possessed but the same brightness that shone in Bae's eyes after a half hour of outdoor exertion, it was reflected in the warmth of Mr. Gold's after a half hour spent discussing literature over tea. She knew that Mr. Gold would perhaps have the same sort of look had she been anyone with half an ounce of wit and who would be willing to sit down and chat with him. Perhaps. But she treasured each smile, each chuckle, each conversation they had, as if they were for her and her alone.
Bae's education improved as the weeks crawled by. She had worried when she first came, the responsibility of readying him for school-worried that she might fail in some way to have him compete with his peers, but she needn't have worried. His eagerness to please, his curiosity, and his love of learning propelled him to lessons she was sure surpassed most boys his age. Mr. Gold also smiled at his son's progress, and even would bestow a 'You've done very well with him, Miss French' to Belle's reddened cheeks.
Winter passed, just like all seasons must and the snow melted into a muddy sludge that made sure Bae came back from playing outdoors with ruddy cheeks and mud splattered clothes. Bae had asked, once, when Miss French's birthday was, and she had noted that it was the 19th day in March. She found by her plate the evening of that said day, a piece of cake, with Bae beaming that he had helped make it, and Mr. Gold giving her a wish for many happy returns. Her twentieth year had begun in a pleasing manner that she wished would never have to end.
Easter would be at the beginning of April and Belle redid a bonnet in her favorite ribbon for the occasion. She had something else she wanted to do too, but nearly had not the courage. When she next took tea with Mr. Gold, she broached the subject, after they had a very relevant conversation about Bleak House.
'Bae told me he saw you reading Bleak House, and thought that the home sounded even more depressing than Dark Manor.'
Belle smiled. 'Both are misnomers, the Dark Manor is not so very dark, I find.'
'Do you not?' His question seemed to carry some hope.
'Not at all. Have you read the book, sir? Do you like it?'
'It is good, yes, though the change in narrator can be jarring at times.'
'Yes, I found it the same. I also found Esther to be only a subject of ideal virtue and perfection that no woman could obtain.'
Mr. Gold did what any male could do at that assertion and did not answer. The quiet left Belle thinking about the deformity that Esther suffered in the story and how she had eventually been seen in public by her friends, and ventured to the subject she had wished to speak on to begin with.
'Will you not come to the Easter service, Mr. Gold.'
Mr. Gold nearly choked on his tea and his eye shot up in surprise.
'I beg your pardon?'
'I only mean, we will all be attending the Easter service and should you not want to attend yourself?'
She knew the fragile nature his appearance had left him. He thought himself monstrous beyond belief-indeed, there were no mirrors in the manor save the bedroom. He was conscientious of how some of the servants would not meet his face, and he felt deserving of every fearful look. He shut himself up in the confines of his estate, and there was no need for him to do so, in Belle's eyes.
'Why, in Heaven's name would I want to do that?'
Belle's eyebrows went up at the swearing.
'I apologize, Miss French, you've caught me unawares, I think. I am surprised you brought the question up at all. Would you want me to come?'
He did not look accusatory, he almost looked genuinely curious.
'Of course, sir. I think you would benefit from the exertion, and other people would benefit from seeing the real person and not the rumors.'
'They will mock me.' He said dejectedly and it pained Belle to hear him speak so.
'Forgive me, but will you allow me to speak plainly?'
This time it was Mr. Gold's eyebrows that went up, and the bitterness melted into amusement for a moment.
'As if you ever wanted permission to speak that way before.'
Belle chuckled. 'Very well, sir, then let me do so again now. You are wealthy, and even if what you think will happen, happens, it will not evoke the plain, unveiled mockery that someone of lower station might gain. Secondly, you are not as ugly as you think you are. Let people get to know you, and any thoughts they have towards your outer person will be forgotten once they become comfortable with you.'
'You are vastly naive to believe so. Even private mockery will hurt the respect I've at least gained by staying here. You have no idea what real mockery is like, Miss French, to know that people are revolted by your very presence.'
'No, perhaps not, but I have found that those who are prone to gossip and censure will find something to place their ire upon no matter what. I have been the subject of gossip many times, but I never put much stock in it. However, I am sorry I bought this up. I just-I think that you must always feel stifled here alone as you always are.'
Mr. Gold's countenance was dark and stormy.
'As you are, no doubt.'
'Oh no, I am quite content, sir. But, I also have more opportunities to engage with my fellow man than you do. I only wished to help you sir.'
She fidgeted with her hands and looked down at her skirt. She worried she had been too honest and open with him. She was afraid she had gone too far this time. She dared glance up and his gaze was so open and direct-he was contemplating something, something so deep and intense that she put her head back down again.
'I am grateful that you do not find me so ugly.' She lifted her eyes in mortification for a moment and his crooked smile relieved her that he was not angry.
'I'm sorry sir, I didn't mean…'
Mr. Gold shook his head to silence her worries.
'Do not worry yourself, Miss French. And while I understand and appreciate your sentiments, let me assure you that I am also quite content here, and I can acknowledge and celebrate the risen Savior very comfortably in my study or library and more so, I dare say, since I would only be anxious if I went. You go, and tell me how it was, hmm?' He was not angry at her boldness, that was enough. Though she worried for him still, she smiled and nodded her head.
Bae was the first to want every detail of the service and for Belle to describe each and every outlandish bonnet she saw. Mr. Gold merely chuckled into his napkin and set it back into his lap when Belle exaggerated some of the trim and colors, and likened a few of the ladies to strutting peacocks. Belle was equally joyful in her telling and happy to please both.
'How was the actual service?' Mr. Gold asked offhandedly. 'Dove has told me the clergyman is a bit lacking in his delivery.'
Belle wanted to sigh in frustration at the memory of the pompous preacher.
'Mr. Dove speaks correctly. I don't believe I've ever seen someone so ill suited for the position as a man of God.' Belle did audibly sigh. 'And his manners outside the pulpit are even worse!'
Mr. Gold's eye shot up in concern. 'He didn't do anything else did he?'
'Sir? Anything else?' What did he mean else…had Mrs. Lucas mentioned…
Mr. Gold cleared his throat a little nervously.
'Dove may have mentioned his behavior when you were in town.'
'Oh! Yes, well, he was not as forward as last time. He tried to catch me in conversation and wanted to ascertain my health, but nothing but what was proper. I just don't like the man very much.'
'Dove holds a similar opinion.' Mr. Gold smiled a little. Belle smiled back.
'I've found Mr. Dove to be a good judge of character.'
As wonderful as Easter Dinner was, Belle found it was a close mark to the time she started to see a change in Mr. Gold. When she saw him the next day, he was quiet and serious. Belle wondered if the rain they were having affected his leg as she felt twinges in her own arm with the change of weather. When the rain let up and even days later he was still more drawn into himself, she started to worry for his health.
Then he started to look wistfully at Bae, and she thought she understood. Surely it was the months winding down to Bae's departure that was making him more solemn. Then again, he seemed to look at her with perhaps not wistfulness, but rather contemplativeness that Belle could not understand.
Her own thoughts as the weeks passed and May had bloomed in all its quiet warmness, turned towards melancholy tendencies. To know she must leave soon, must depart from a place she had called home once again. She had left her family home because of death, and yet to leave this one seemed to her as pleasant as death itself. It was foolish, she told herself, but the feeling would not dissipate. A couple of weeks after Easter, she was handed a letter that further confused her.
My Dearest Rabbit,
I write to you now to give you assurances of the future. For I know how you are, and I know that that pretty little head of yours is worried about your next post. Here I am to give you relief on that front. Your Mr. Gold has found you a position and has written to me to ask its merit, and I can vouch for the good sense of it. Has he spoken to you about it already? Please write to me and tell me what you think! Be in all confidence that your godfather will help in any way that I can.
Do write soon.
Your affectionate Godfather,
Jeffrey
This letter was read five times and she could yet make head nor tails of it. A position? That Mr. Gold found? Who did Mr. Gold know that could be in need of a governess? The Mills might need one for Emma, but she didn't think Mr. Gold would be so cruel, nor that Mr. Jeffrey would allow it. No, it was not them. It must be some business associate that he had written and spoke to, surely.
She nervously anticipated the conversation Mr. Jeffrey assured her she would have. Mr. Gold would tell her her fate and see her gone before long. She most likely had mere weeks with Bae, and she relished every hour she taught him.
Mary knocked and told her Mr. Gold wished to see her in his study. This was it then. And in his study too-the place where all the more business aspects of her position had been conducted. In only a short time she would have to resign herself to leaving the place she loved so much. She wanted to fall on her knees and plead with the Almighty-but for what she did not know. What she wanted she knew could never be. So she went forth like a soldier who knows the battle is lost before he begins, and entered the dark and shadowy room once again.
Author's Note:I had to mention Bleak House somewhere in here. When I thought of the main title, I was thinking of Dickens' title, and I'm kind of a shipper of Esther and John Jarndyce in the BBC drama, (older guy/younger girl...seemed to fit too) so here it is! My mom and I read Bleak House a couple of years ago and man! it's so long and so very detailed. I'll never achieve such depth, but I hope you enjoy the chapter anyway :)
Belle is again rather bold here, and I don't know if she's gone 'too far' for Victorian times, but I've had this conversation floating around in my head for several weeks, and it seemed to fit here. I still don't think I've reached the levels of Jane and Rochester conversations, so maybe it's okay, lol
