XII

Thunder

Belle huddled under her blanket, clutching her pillow to her chest as she sat trembling on the settee before the great stone hearth in the hall. Rain pelted the Dark Castle in unrelenting sheets, thunder shook the stone and lightning left faint trails of ozone all over the mountain. A crash nearby sent her bolting to the stairs leading to her old cell in the dungeons. It could have been a vial of potion fallen over in her master's workroom, or some trinket in one of the many unused portions of the castle shaken loose by the thunder. She wasn't waiting around to find out, nor had she any desire to investigate.

Her footsteps were muffled over the cacophony of wind and rain, thunder and lightning. Yet, nothing seemed to be as loud as the beating of her own heart as she stumbled into her cell and sought out the farthest corner between the wall and the comfortable pile of straw which had once served as her bed. She pulled the blanket up over her head and buried her face against the pillow as she let the tears come.

She knew she was being silly. It was only a thunderstorm. Yet, with every boom of thunder, her mind brought forth memories of the last moments she'd spent with her mother. The sound was reminiscent of the ogre's violent destruction of her library as they'd torn through the stone and mortar of Avonlea castle and stolen Colette away from her family. It was a sound which plagued her waking moments in times of quiet and haunted her in the dead of night to chase away her peaceful dreams. Of all times for her master to leave her alone in his fortress, why did it have to be now when she was so afraid?

Belle whimpered as another crash of lightning flashed outside the barred window of her former 'room'. Gods, how she wanted him just then. If for nothing more than to assure her of his presence. For how could anything harm her when he was near? The lines were quickly blurring between them. They were no longer simply master and maid. Oh, no. Though he'd be the last to admit it, Rumpelstiltskin was her friend. A cantankerous, surly, ill-tempered friend who teased her mercilessly, but her friend nonetheless, and by the gods, she needed him.

"Rumpelstiltskin …" His name, a desperate whisper of sound, falling from her lips as she clutched the pillow in a fierce grip and prayed he was safe and would return to her soon.

*.*.*

The Dark One gripped the edge of the table, his tankard of ale hitting the surface with a loud thunk. His deal with the impoverished king had been finished earlier in the day, the shepherd twin of the now deceased prince having been settled into his new life. He should have been happy. Or at least what passed for happy. That emotion certainly wasn't one with which he'd ever been familiar. His life had been filled with naught but pain and disappointment. Now, he had a whole new slew of problems … all bundled up in a halo of chestnut curls and the loveliest cerulean eyes he'd ever encountered. Hence his very good reason for not returning home straightaway.

The girl had him so confused he didn't know whether to floss his hair or comb his teeth. He needed time to think without her popping up with a tray of tea and her warm smile to befuddle his senses. And damn if she wasn't becoming quite skilled with that.

A shiver tripped along his spine to raise the fine hairs along his nape, his name whispering through his mind. Usually, he wouldn't take notice of it unless it was spoken three times or accompanied with an 'I summon thee', but he couldn't ignore her. Very seldom did she call him anything but 'master', and never with her voice so fraught with terror.

He ignored the honey colored rivulets of ale snaking their way past the edge of the table to drip onto the floor, his mind consumed with the princess. What could possibly have caused her to call out to him in such desperation? Had something happened at home? Another break-in? He quickly transported himself back to the Dark Castle, leaving behind a telltale puff of violet smoke and a gold coin for the ale.

Rumpelstiltskin was already striding forward as his magic dissipated, his booted feet carrying him swiftly towards the Great Hall. "Belle!" he called for her. The castle was silent, eerie as the rain pelted against the glass. Cold had seeped into the fortress despite the roaring fire in the hearth. He would investigate that later, more intent on finding his missing caretaker. "Belle!" Where could she be? She never failed to come running when he called for her.

His chest tightened with panic, his stomach coiling with dread as he prayed she hadn't tried to leave the castle in such a downpour. The mage forced himself to calm and send out a wisp of magic to locate her. If she were still in the castle, he would find her. The library, her bedroom, the kitchens … all of her usual haunts were devoid of her presence, yet her fear lingered in the air. His brows drew together when he felt her. Why would she ever return to the dungeon of her own accord?

The Dark One didn't waste time with the stairs, transporting himself by magic to her cell. There he found her, white with terror and huddled in the far corner away from the barred windows, shivering in her misery. In an instant, he forgot he was supposed to be the most feared sorcerer in the realm. His heart lightened the tiniest bit to see his brave girl so shaken and terrified. He went to her, kneeling at her side to pull the blanket away from her face.

"Belle … dearie?"

She raised luminous tear-filled eyes to him, a sob breaking in her throat, and threw herself into his arms. "Rumpel …"

His clawed hand smoothed over her tousled tresses as he made soothing shushing noises, assuring her of her safety. Even with the thick woolen blanket covering her, she was near frozen, her teeth chattering as much from the temperature as her fear. "What on earth are you doing down here? You're freezing."

Belle bit down harshly on her lip to still its trembling. "I-I was afraid … of the st-storm," she stuttered. "I know it's s-silly, but … I wasn't thinking clearly, alright!" She wept, pressing her face against the warmth of his throat. "I was all alone and frightened and … I'm so glad you came home."

The mage closed his eyes and felt the mortar and stone around his heart shift, his world tilting and rumbling on its axis. "Let's get you warm, shall we?" he crooned, scooping her up into his arms along with her pillow and blanket, taking them to the library where he knew she would feel safe.

The fire crackled merrily in the hearth next to her settee where tea and scones awaited her. Yet, when he tried to set her down, she clung to him, refusing to let him go. "Don't leave me!" she cried, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Please!"

Rumpelstiltskin was glad she couldn't see the panic written over his swarthy features. She was giving him little choice. Certainly, he could use magic to coax her to release him. This was the height of impropriety, after all, but why expend himself and have to pay the price? Why shouldn't he enjoy this moment of closeness with his little dearie? If only to bring her the comfort she so desperately needed … from him. He sat down stiffly and pulled her blanket up to her chin, anticipating her horror when she realized she was cuddling with a monster. She would flee, he would tease her, and everything would return to normal. Right?

Eventually, her sniffles subsided, and her breathing evened. Any moment, he thought wryly. He wanted so badly to ask her to share her fears with him, to tell him why she was so terrified of storms, but now was not the time for questions. A soft snuffle followed by a little snore alerted him to her slumber … on him … the monster of legend. He'd been reduced to … a pillow. He sighed and rested his cheek against her crown. Tomorrow she could provide the answers he sought. Tonight … well, there were worse ways to spend the evening.

A/n: Big bucket of candy canes and chocolate Santas to all who are reading and reviewing :D You all rock! Hope you're still enjoying!