VI

You're Not Who I Thought You Were

His little maid breathed in the scent of ink, paper and old books, her lovely features morphing into a look of utter contentment, and still she hadn't let go of his hand. She'd been looking at him so oddly since their sojourn to the forest, perhaps the library would distract her. He hadn't thought it would make matters worse. Why was she still touching him?! Belle really was making this a habit, and he didn't even want to contemplate the hug she'd given him after he'd let the thief go. What kind of girl was she who thought it appropriate – or sane – to run about hugging monsters?

"I'm not going to ask you why you gave me this wonderful gift, Master. You would no doubt give me some lippy excuse about adding to my chores," she grinned. She tugged on his hand, pulling him over to peruse one of the shelves. "What shall we read tonight?"

Rumpelstiltskin's lips parted in surprise, tearing his eyes away from their clasped hands. "Read?" he managed to choke out. Did she expect him to remain in the library with her for the remainder of the evening?

"If you want to … I could read to you for a while?"

Uncertainty coiled hot and acidic in his belly as he found himself lost in the deep pools of her eyes. Was that hope he saw there? Why would she want to spend time with him when he'd been so horrible to her since her arrival? She was playing a dangerous game trying to get close to him. Yet, he couldn't bear to see the light dim, or her innocent desires crushed.

"Aren't you tired from our jaunt through the forest? It's rather late," he protested halfheartedly. "And it won't bode well if you're tired and unable to complete your chores tomorrow. I won't tolerate sloppiness, dearie!"

Her smile only grew as her fingers brushed over the tomes on the shelf. "No. I'm too excited. There are so many titles I haven't read, so many adventures to discover." She turned to him, giving his hand a squeeze as she ignored his catty attempt to chide her about her never-ending list of duties. "I know! Why don't you choose, and I'll go down to the kitchen to fetch us some tea and a light snack."

"Me?" he asked in surprise. "What if I choose something you don't like?"

His princess huffed a short laugh, the sound doing strange things to his insides. "I'm sure whatever you choose will be wonderful." She dropped his hand and hurried over to the staircase. "I'll be right back, Master."

A rather undignified sound escaped his throat as his gaze swung between the stacks and the empty staircase where she'd disappeared. Bloody hell! Just what had he gotten himself into? It had been a spur of the moment decision to create the library for her and the books were in no particular order. He'd simply sent out a curl of magic to collect as many tomes as possible to entertain her. He couldn't expect her to spend all her time cleaning his moldy old castle. Blackened nails swept over the titles. Botany? Definitely not! He'd be asleep in no time. Romance? Oh, hell no! The girl's head was already filled with enough fanciful notions. Pirates? He scowled. Those would have to go. He was on his third shelf when he heard her soft footsteps padding up the stairs. Quickly he snatched up a tome which seemed to be a tale of adventure. That should do, he thought, pleased with himself.

Before she had made it halfway up the stairs, he was frowning at the room. And just where were they supposed to sit? How undignified would it be to find the Dark One curled up on the hardwood floor? A wisp of magic took care of the problem as he conjured a plush sofa laden with an array of squashy throw pillows and a thick woolen blanket. A snap of his fingers had a fire roaring in the hearth to lend its warmth. No sense in her catching a chill. It just wouldn't do for her to get sick … and not be able to attend to her chores.

Belle flashed him a bright smile as he took a seat on one end of the sofa, setting the tray she'd brought on the low refreshment table and pouring them each a cup of tea. "What did you choose, Master?"

He suppressed a shiver as her sweet voice washed over him. He was expected to listen to her read … possibly for hours? Gods! He was never going to endure, he groaned inwardly. "Um … The Mysterious Island," he replied, glancing down at the title embossed upon the cover.

She nodded approvingly and handed him his cup, taking the book from him. Instead of curling up on the other end of the sofa, she settled herself next to him, kicked off her shoes, and tucked her dainty feet up under herself. Rumpelstiltskin had never seen anyone so relaxed in his presence before, and it set him on edge.

His sloe-lidded amber eyes found her lips as she blew delicately on the steaming brew in her cup, the sound of the crackling fire and her calm steady breaths the only sound in the room. It was peaceful. Not a state with which he was at all familiar. As she set her cup aside and began to read, he felt the tension ease from his shoulders. Even the darkness within him seemed to quiet.

Perhaps they could both enjoy the new library.