IX
First Snow
Belle pushed an errant lock of her chestnut hair away from her brow as she studied the book lying before her on the kitchen counter. There was actually a stack of them. Since her accident in her master's workroom, Rumpelstiltskin had pretty much reduced her chores down to dusting. It was boring, but it didn't take up much of her day. Free time was now something she had in spades. She turned the page in the dusty old cookbook and smiled. The pantry was stocked, and thanks ever so much to the mage's magic to keep it so, she had an endless array of ingredients to use. It shouldn't be too difficult to teach herself how to cook. Mrs. Potts had always made it look so easy.
Her master should be pleased she was making the effort. She wanted him to see how well she was settling into her role as his caretaker. Though lately, she was becoming increasingly suspicious he'd just wanted someone to banish his loneliness. She couldn't complain. For even as comfortable as her life had been in Avonlea before she'd lost her mother, she too had yearned for companionship. Belle had always been too bookish, too odd, too something to garner friendship easily. She chuckled softly. Now she had someone to share her life with who was just as – if not moreso – peculiar as she. She wouldn't go so far as to say she was happy, but content. It was more than she'd expected when she'd made the deal with Rumpelstiltskin.
Having made up her mind as to what she was going to make, Belle turned to rummage through the pantry. She did a double take as she passed the large beveled window over the sink, her eyes widening, and the breath catching in her throat. Her first snowfall … ever! She stood, mesmerized by the fat flakes as they fell into the little courtyard outside the kitchens. It didn't snow in Avonlea, the weather too warm – even in the winter – for snow, and though she'd traveled north with her parents on political trips, it was usually in the summer. She should have known this high in the mountains, it was bound to snow eventually.
The smile gracing her lips rivaled the sun as she glanced towards the door leading outside. Not only could she see it, but she would get to touch it as well. Surely, it wouldn't harm anything to open up the door and let some of the flakes drift inside. She wouldn't be disobeying her master, per se … right? He'd forbidden her to go outside, but that wasn't her goal. The steady fall was already accumulating on the ground outside, from what she could see. Perhaps some had built up on the stoop?
Belle's fingers curled over the doorknob, a giddy feeling of abject happiness curling behind her breastbone as she swung the door open. Before she could draw in that first breath of chill winter air, the floor dropped from beneath her feet and she was spiraling through the ether. She landed in a heap in the Great Hall at her master's feet where he sat spinning at his wheel.
The Dark One's eyes narrowed menacingly on his little maid, his gaze flickering between her and the corridor leading to the kitchens. Belle sat meekly at his feet, still trying to regain her bearings. He pointed a long finger at her, leaning over, nose to nose with her. "You tried to leave the castle," he growled through clenched teeth, the muscle ticking in his jaw.
"What?! No! I swear I didn't," she protested shrilly. "Master, it's snowing!"
His anger dissipated somewhat to give way to bewilderment. "What has that to do with anything? That just makes it worse. You want to leave so badly you'd risk your life to inclement weather! Is it really so bad here with me, Belle?!"
She ignored his little tantrum and sprang to her feet, reaching for his hand to drag him over to the window. "Of course not. But, master … I've never seen snow before," she breathed excitedly.
Reluctantly, and after a bit of a fight to find the opening in the fabric, he followed her behind the heavy crimson drape to peer out the window. Her face was flushed with joy, a radiant smile upon her petal soft mouth, eyes shining with awe. His breath caught as he looked down at her, his heart fluttering with unfamiliar emotion. "Never?" he found himself asking, his voice whisper soft.
Rumpelstiltskin's breath steamed the window, and she quickly wiped it away, so her view was unobstructed once more. "Never. I live in the marsh, Master. It was never cold enough for snow." She sighed. "Truly, I wasn't trying to leave the castle. I was hoping it had built up enough on the stoop where I could reach out and touch it." She reached out and laid her hand against his silken sleeve. "I'd never break our deal … in spite of what you think."
Perhaps he'd been too hasty when he'd warded the castle. She couldn't get past the gate. Would it really hurt to let her out onto the grounds when she'd been nothing but accommodating since she'd arrived? He glanced down at her bandaged hand where it rested upon his arm, nearly healed now. She couldn't very well go outside by herself, he mused.
Rumpelstiltskin whipped the curtain aside with a low snarl. "Come with me, dearie."
Belle grimaced as she moved to follow, wondering what kind of punishment he'd mete out because she'd disobeyed. She'd worked herself into a fine lather by the time he stopped in the foyer. Her visions of having spikes driven into her nail beds gave way to confusion as he stopped before the front doors. The faint ozone – a telltale sign of his magic – permeated the air, and she stared open mouthed at the items he'd conjured to his hands. Boots, gloves, and a lovely violet cloak lined with ermine, which he held out to her.
"For me?"
The mage arched a brow. "Unless we've got a chambermaid stashed in the cupboard," he drawled in a dry tone. "Now hurry and change."
It only took her moments, and when she rejoined him, he had donned his own gloves and dark cloak. "We're really going outside?"
He sneered at her, though he couldn't quite manage his normal glower. "If you stop dawdling!"
In her excitement, she threw her arms about his neck, happier than she'd been in a very long time. "Thank you, Master!"