Chapter 9—"And Almost Kind"


Belle had been sleeping in the dungeon for almost a week before Rumplestiltskin shouted at her to go up the stairs (fortunately not the biting ones) and into the second room on the right one evening. Rolling her eyes, Belle obeyed; she hadn't done as much cleaning that day as she had exploring, and she figured that he intended to punish her for her slackness by making her scrub the floors all night. Much to her surprise, however, she found herself in a beautiful bedroom suite, complete with a four poster bed that was even larger than the one she'd left at home. The room seemed spotless, too, so unless he really wanted to come up with some make-work—

"Proper ladies don't leave their bedroom doors open, dearie." The familiar voice trilled out a laugh from behind her, making Belle jump. She hadn't heard him approaching, and now spun to glare at him.

"Proper gentlemen don't scare the life out of ladies."

He snorted. "Who says I'm any sort of gentlemen?"

"You dress like one," Belle shot back, acutely aware of her ragged gown and now incredibly worn (yet still ridiculously uncomfortable) shoes.

"All the better to fool you with, my dear." Rumplestiltskin danced forward, leaning in with a grin. "Maybe monsters like fancy clothes."

Belle fought the urge to back away when the Dark One loomed over her like that; he wasn't especially tall, but even with heels on, he was bigger than she was. And he has magic. He doesn't need strength or size to hurt me. Swallowing, she glanced around the bedroom with new eyes. "Is this your room, then?"

It didn't look like she imagined his abode; for one, the bedding, walls, and draperies were all in pastels, colors she'd always been brought up to believe ladylike. But she already knew that Rumplestiltskin enjoyed bucking convention, so the colors could mean nothing. And her earliest fears might now be about to come true. Why not take me earlier, then? Why wait six days, until I've started to wonder if he's more bluff than bluster? Is that why? Belle brought her chin up, refusing to show fear. She'd volunteered for this…whatever it was.

"Of course not." Rumplestiltskin stepped back abruptly, staring at her like she was mad. Then he flung a hand up in a wild type of wind-mill, twirling his fingers madly. "It hardly fits with my reputation."

Belle gave him a doubtful look, trying to conceal her relief. After all, he might have wanted to take her to any comfortable room, and there was no knowing what kind of odd fantasies the Dark One had. "Then…what are we doing here?"

"Weren't you listening, or are all well-bred maidens idiots as well as sheltered?"

"I am not an idiot!" She wanted to slap him. Here she was, worrying if she was going to be raped, and he was calling her names? Goaded into anger, Belle stepped forward to glare right into the Dark One's eyes. "It would simply help if you bothered to tell me what you wanted from time to time, instead of leaving me to guess!"

That made him blink, his strange golden eyes wide and confused until they suddenly became shadowed and guarded again. He shrugged. "You're the maid. I told you what your duties were."

"And is that all?" Belle might not have been so blunt if she hadn't been so angry, but the words were out and she did not regret them. She was sick of not knowing. She couldn't take the guessing any longer. "You don't have any more…personal requirements?"

"Of course it is." Rumplestiltskin looked offended. "What do you take me for?"

"You're the one who calls yourself a monster."

"I'm not that kind of monster!"

"Well, it would be nice if you'd tell me that!" Belle shouted. "I've been waiting all week for you to—to—" She cut off, too smart to imply that he'd rape her when he looked so affronted at the idea.

Gaston would have cheerfully taken what he'd consider his if I made this sort of deal with him. Just that thought made her shiver. Rumplestiltskin on the other hand, skittered backwards, clearly having heard the words she didn't say. His eyes were wide but his expression had acquired a strange brokenness that mixed poorly with the fury on his face.

"If you prefer the dungeon, dearie, you're more than welcome to return," he snapped.

"I didn't say that." Belle glanced around the room wildly, trying to discern its purpose. "I just want to know why I'm here."

"Well, I can't have my maid catching cold, now, can I?" His face twisted up in a sneer, making her wonder if she'd imagined his earlier vulnerability. "But if you want hypothermia, you know the way."

"What? Are you saying—"

Rumplestiltskin vanished in a cloud of purple smoke.

"—that this is my room?" The words echoed around Belle uselessly, so she bolted for the door, hoping that he'd be in earshot. "Rumplestiltskin!"

He didn't respond, which only made Belle smack her hand against the doorframe in frustration. Was he ignoring her on purpose? Why had he given her a room if he didn't want to take her virtue? Everything Belle had read about the Dark One indicated that he was eccentric and dangerous, but the idea of him being virtuous or kind was nowhere in her books.

And now he was ignoring her, because she didn't doubt that he could hear her shouting from any corner of the castle. Belle heaved a sigh and tried one more time:

"Rumplestiltskin!"

"I wouldn't bother trying to call for him. When he gets in one of his moods, it's best to simply wait him out."

Hearing the voice made Belle whirl to face the Dark One's mother, who stood watching her with an amused smile on her face. She hadn't spoken to the Black Fairy often; in some ways, Belle found her even more off-putting than her son. The Black Fairy was a legend, and not a nice one. Her laugh was off-putting, and Belle always got the impression that there was some game going on that she was not privy to. Worse yet, the Black Fairy seemed perfectly content to let Rumplestiltskin continue on in his monstrous (or not so monstrous, Belle reminded herself, at least from a certain perspective) ways, and she didn't seem interested in talking to Belle after that first time.

"What do you mean, 'one of his moods'?" She crossed her arms warily.

The Black Fairy laughed again. "He's a bit fond of his dramatics, Rumplestiltskin is. It runs in our family. But he's not always comfortable around people, a problem I clearly don't share."

"I'd argue that it's more accurate to say that he makes people uncomfortable, rather than the other way around." Belle had seen how much he enjoyed making others look the part of the fool, after all.

"Every story has two sides." The Black Fairy's smile turned distant and sad. "Even the Dark One's."

Belle perked up. "Will you tell it to me?"

"No. Of course not! What kind of mother do you take me for?" The Black Fairy's glare turned speculative. "My son's story is his own. You can ask him, if you dare. He may tell you. He might turn you into a snail."

"I doubt that." Belle was unbearably curious, but she couldn't imagine Rumplestiltskin ever talking to her about anything. He seemed not to like her at all, and he definitely wasn't going to sit around and answer her questions. She wasn't sure if she'd ever seen him sitting still when he was doing anything other than spinning, actually.

The Black Fairy shrugged. "Then I suppose you'll just have to wonder, won't you?"

But there were some things Belle couldn't bear wondering about. "Can I ask you something else?"

"You can always ask. Whether I answer or turn you into a bug is still undecided."

Belle rolled her eyes. "You would have done that already if you'd been planning to."

"Or I might just enjoy the anticipation." A snorted laugh. "Ask your question."

"He said…he said he's not 'that kind of monster' when I asked him what he wanted of me." Belle swallowed hard. "Is he…am I safe from that?"

Somehow, she'd wound up hugging her torso, and Belle hadn't felt so small in years. But she was still terrified of what might come, still terrified that the Dark One would decide to turn her into some sort of concubine—or worse. But the Black Fairy was a woman, even if she was Rumplestiltskin's mother. Surely she'd have at least enough compassion to answer her?

"Oh, yes. He meant that." The Black Fairy looked her up and down. "He'd never be interested in someone who was unwilling." Her smile was amused. "Even if you are his type."

"His what?"

"Nevermind. I'm always one to speak out of turn."

The Black Fairy walked away while Belle stared speechlessly. She wasn't sure what to say in response to that, though she supposed she was extremely grateful that Rumplestiltskin's mother didn't think that he'd rape her. Of course, a mother might be the last to know…but even if the worst happens, I saved my people. That matters the most.


A month after he acquired his maid, the infernal girl let a thief out of the dungeon.

Rumplestiltskin didn't know what to do. He couldn't deal with this. She'd let the damned outlaw go, and then somehow Belle had convinced him to let the man go. Belle. Was that the first time he'd used her name within the privacy of his own mind? Rumplestiltskin thought it was, and he wasn't sure what that meant. And then…then she had hugged him. Him. She had hugged him, and said that he wasn't as dark as she thought.

Why in the world had she done that?

"You gave her a library? Weren't you supposed to be punishing her?" His mother's voice came from behind him; Rumplestiltskin had retreated up to his work tower, fleeing from Belle after he'd told her that she needed to keep the library clean. He knew that she'd read more than she'd clean, yet somehow that didn't bother him.

"Of course not." He spun to face Fiona, not sure why he suddenly felt so defensive. "I told her to clean it."

Fiona threw back her head and laughed. "Of course you did, Rumple. You silly boy."

"Why would I do anything else?" Her continued smile made him glare.

"Oh, no reason, I'm sure. No reason at all." Fiona drifted over to the chaise lounge by the window, seating herself primly. Then she returned to studying him. "Do you like this girl, Rumple?"

At least he could answer that honestly. "She drives me mad!"

One eyebrow rose. "Is that all?"

"Why in the world would there be anything else?" He could feel his hands flapping uselessly in the air, and Rumplestiltskin forced them downwards with an effort. "She's the help. Nothing more."

"I'm aware of what her job is. I asked if you liked her. She is your type."

"I don't like people. I'm the Dark One, dearie, in case you've forgotten." The words snapped out before he could stop himself, but he could already hear Nimue coiling up excitedly.

Take what you want. You know you want the girl. That young, beautiful body, with those lips you keep staring at…it's been a long time since you had a woman, Nimue reminded him needlessly, and Rumplestiltskin really wished he could drown her out. Zoso's contribution, however, was even worse: Take her and listen to her scream. You don't know pleasure until you—

"Shut up!" Rumplestiltskin shouted before he could stop himself, shaking his head to try to chase his predecessors away. "Just shut up!"

"Rumple?" His mother suddenly looked concerned. When had she gotten up and come to his side? Why was she touching his arms so gently?

"Nothing." He hated losing control, particularly in front of her. Fiona was the Black Fairy, perhaps even more powerful than he was—they'd never put that to the test—and he was a coward who couldn't even ignore the voices inside his head.

"The other Dark Ones are at it again, aren't they?" Fiona's face screwed up in an angry sneer, but the hand on his shoulder was gentle, and no longer even made him jump. "Ranting and raving inside your head?"

That made him go cold. "How do you know that?"

She knows too much, feels too much. This one is dangerous, dearie. Kill her and take her power! But he was too used to the other Dark Ones prattling to pay them any heed; his mother had earned his trust. Even if she did know too much.

"Because I'm well-attuned to dark magic, of course. How else do you think I could summon your dagger?" She shrugged. "Ignore them. You're so much more than the sum of the darkness inside you."

Rumplestiltskin looked up at his mother, wishing he didn't feel so lost or so monstrous. Did he like Belle? He was attracted to her, yes, but he would have had to have been dead not to have been attracted to her. There was enough of the human man left inside him to notice Belle, but it wasn't just because of her physical beauty. She was stunningly to look upon, of course, but it was the sheer brilliance of her soul that drew him in. He frightened her, yes, but she refused to back down even when he yelled at her. She was brave beyond measure, bold and sassy, and she was brilliantly intelligent, too. What was not to like?

"I don't like her," he mumbled, staring at the floor.

For once, Fiona didn't call him on the lie. Instead, she just leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead before changing the subject to his latest magical experiment.


A week later, Fiona watched from the doorway as Rumplestiltskin caught Belle when she foolishly tried to pull the curtains down. Of course, her silly boy had nailed them down—he was determined to revel in the darkness that he hated so much. Removing them had never occurred to Fiona, since she was steeped in the same darkness herself, but Belle, bless her cheerful heart, had clearly decided that the great hall needed a bit more light. And then she'd promptly fallen off of the ladder.

Fiona breath caught in her throat as her son caught the girl, but it wasn't the fact that the Dark One had excellent reflexes that surprised her. No, it was the soft look on his face as he stared into Belle's eyes, and the look of wonder and affection the girl sent back his way. Could this be what I think it is? Her chest was suddenly tight, and Fiona simply stared. Never, not once, had she thought the answer so simple. She knew that Rumplestiltskin could love—his never ending search for Baelfire proved that, as had his disastrous relationship with Cora—but could Belle love him?

She had searched and searched for ways to bring her son back to the light, but this one had never occurred to her. Rumplestiltskin remained stubbornly on the path he had chosen for himself, with the darkness digging its claws in deeper and deeper as the years passed. He needed something to pull him away from the darkness, something more than a mother's love. That realization burned, and she wanted to rebel against it, but Fiona loved her son too much to lie to herself. Or too much to lie to myself again, anyway. Twenty-five years together had taught Fiona a lot, and she knew that she wasn't enough. Not with that curse broiling inside Rumplestiltskin.

Yet simple love wouldn't be enough, either, or else his feelings for Cora would have done the trick. This girl would have to give more—and Fiona might just be able to help that along.

Belle's soft voice suddenly broke the silence. "Um…thank you."

Rumplestiltskin put her down as if his hands were suddenly burning, backing away awkwardly as if he'd never held a woman before. Silly boy. We both know you have. Yet Belle certainly couldn't tell that by the way he was twitching. "It's no matter."

"I'll, uh, put the curtains back up." Belle looked sheepish, but she was still watching Rumplestiltskin as if she was suddenly seeing him in a new light.

Fiona held her breath. Would he give a little? Or would Rumplestiltskin dig his heels in, as he so often did?

"There's no need." His voice was strangely soft. "I'll get used to it."

Was that a tiny smile that touched his face as he turned back towards his wheel? Fiona thought it was. Belle, on the other hand, was not even trying to hide her grin, or the way her eyes followed Rumplestiltskin. The girl had never looked at him that way before, not with those shining and fascinated eyes, and it made Fiona's heart beat faster with hope and wonder. Perhaps Belle was more than the spunky irritant she'd taken her for.

She slipped away before either of the two could notice her presence. Fiona certainly wasn't going to ruin this moment. Besides, she had planning to do. If Belle could love her son, if the magic Fiona sensed in the air was something larger brewing, the two idiots would need help. She'd do whatever she needed to save her son, and if that meant facilitating a burgeoning romance with the maid, well, that was what Fiona would do.

At least she'll give him good looking grandchildren, if it comes to that.


Belle's sixth week at the Dark Castle opened with snow. Big, beautiful, and wet snowflakes covered her windowsill when she woke up, and Belle threw back the covers to run to the window, grinning like a madwoman. Snow hadn't fallen often in Marchlands; her home was a temperate place where cold winters came without much in the way of snow. They received dustings periodically, but that was it. And this winter at the Dark Castle had been rather mild so far, despite the way the castle was nestled in the mountains; the most they'd gotten was an inch or two of snow, even though it was almost spring. But today there was a giant blanket of snow covering the courtyard already, and the snowflakes were still coming down. There had to be at least a foot of snow outside, and the thought of going out in it made Belle dress quickly.

Shortly after she'd been given her own room, the Black Fairy had pointed out the closet that conveniently produced dresses only in Belle's size. Of course, Rumplestiltskin's mother had looked at her like she was an idiot for not realizing that sooner, but that didn't dent her joy over not having to wear her old ball gown all the time. Belle had gleefully thrown herself into discovering her new wardrobe, ignoring how the Black Fairy snorted over her prancing and preening. She favored the two blue and white dresses, of course. Both were good for working in, though neither was warm enough to wear out in that snow. So, she chose a maroon and pink dress that had long and comfortable looking sleeves, and then skipped down the stairs to find Rumplestiltskin.

Typically, he was spinning. She'd long since realized that he would forget to eat if no one reminded him to. The Black Fairy nagged him from time to time, but Rumplestiltskin's mother had disappeared a few days earlier, gone off to who-knew-where, which left Rumplestiltskin in a foul mood. Belle still couldn't quite puzzle out the relationship between those two; they seemed to fight more than anything else, but there was clearly a deep and caring bond between them. Yet the Black Fairy was still gone, and Rumplestiltskin was still pouting.

Sometimes he acts the giant child, and others the wise old sorcerer, she thought to herself, heading into the kitchens to fetch some bread and fruit to give him. The Black Fairy had refused to take down the magical spells that managed the food after Belle's second attempt at cooking almost burned down the kitchen, so she could have called for anything she wanted, but Belle knew Rumplestiltskin better than that by now. She'd be lucky if she could get him to eat the apple and bread she brought, particularly when he was like this.

He didn't notice her coming back into the hall any more than he'd noticed her initial arrival, so Belle plopped the tray down with a louder clatter than necessary. "Good morning!"

"Must you be so cheerful?" he demanded, obviously trying to look irate. But Belle noticed that he omitted the usual 'dearie' that he would have stuck on the end of the sentence, which meant he wasn't that annoyed with her.

"It's snowing outside." She couldn't hold back her grin.

"It's winter. It does that." Rumplestiltskin waved a dismissive hand and turned back to his spinning wheel.

"Not everywhere, silly." Belle walked over to grab said hand, not even stopping to think how she wouldn't have dared do so even a month earlier. "Come eat breakfast. You skipped dinner yesterday. Don't think I didn't notice."

"It doesn't matter." He sounded resigned, yet he allowed himself to be led to the table.

"Why not?"

"Dark Ones don't need food." Rumplestiltskin sat down, though, flicking his fingers and conjuring up a chair to his left for her. The Black Fairy always sat in the one to his right, and Belle usually ate on her own. Servants didn't generally didn't have a place at the table, and despite her birth, Belle knew what she was here for.

She was so startled by the unspoken invitation that it took her a moment to realize that he had to be pulling her leg. "Everyone needs food."

"I don't." But he started picking at the bread, anyway.

Belle snagged herself a slice of bread, and then decided that even if Rumplestiltskin didn't want something more substantial, she did. "May I have some oatmeal, please?" she asked the castle, and then turned back to Rumplestiltskin as a bowl appeared in front of her. "I think you're stretching the truth."

"Hardly." He gave her a toothy but dark smile. "Only men need food, dearie."

Oh. She'd struck some sort of nerve, but Belle wasn't going to back down. "Do you say that because your mother is a fairy? She seems to need food, too, and her human form is, well, human enough."

"Yes, yes, she eats." Rumplestiltskin's giggle used to make her uneasy, but she'd learned that it was a sign that he was uncomfortable, or at least avoiding a subject, so she plowed onwards. He could always tell her not to ask, after all.

"So, that means that even fairies eat. Was your father like you?"

Immediately, a cloud settled over his expression, and his eyes flicked to the distance. "No. No, he wasn't. Just an average fool of a human."

"Then you were once…human?" Half-fairies were generally considered human in all the books she read, even if they tended to have magic. Somehow, that realization made Belle's heart skip in relief. She'd come to care for her troublesome and ornery employer, and knowing that he hadn't always been a monster was…wonderful.

"What does it matter?" Rumplestiltskin turned to face her, his eyes suddenly blazing defensively. "I'm not. You're not going to peel away the beast to find some prince charming." This time his giggle was higher pitched, angry and amused all at once. "I am what I am. Get used to it."

"I know that." And Belle didn't mind, truly, except when he was unnecessarily cruel. "I just want to understand."

He scowled. "No, you don't. No one ever does."

"Well, maybe I'm not just anyone." He'd stopped eating, so Belle reached out to put a hand on his arm, which made him jump. "Eat your apple."

Rumplestiltskin's wide-eyed look was full of priceless confusion. Belle gave him her gentlest smile.

"Please?"

He ate his apple.


A/N: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed! It really makes my day to hear from you - this story is fun to write, but it's you awesome readers who keep me going.

Stay tuned for Chapter 10—"And So Unsure," in which a snowball fight happens, Baelfire has an encounter with pirates, Fiona tries not to hate Belle, Rumplestiltskin is confused, and Belle meets Zelena.