XXI

The White Princess and Her Charming Prince

Belle peered out from between the stacks, trying to remain hidden. She was mesmerized, her eyes wide as she witnessed a side of her master she hadn't been privy to in a long time. Not since that day at Avonlea Castle when she'd said goodbye to her father and let Rumpelstiltskin lead her into an uncertain future. This wasn't the gentle man she'd come to befriend in her time at the Dark Castle. No, this was the Dark One who spoke with a forked tongue to get what he wanted. His taunting voice, the maniacal gleam in his eyes, the posturing … it all combined to send an icy chill dancing along her spine.

She shrank back a little further into the shadows, not wanting to be seen as the dwarf made his way to the staircase leading from the library. Her eyes flickered to the bandit princess, road-worn and bedraggled. Had life eluding her stepmother brought her to this? Belle knew Snow White, Leopold and Maurice having had dealings with one another. She'd formed a tentative friendship with the young woman over several visits, and she could definitely say this was not her friend. Snow was sweet, kind, gentle … this girl was cold with a calculating air around her, and Belle had to wonder what had made her this way.

Her hands flew to her mouth in horror, forcing herself to remain silent as she watched Rumpelstiltskin provide Snow with an enchanted bow and quiver of arrows to aid her in her quest to kill the queen. She didn't want to believe he was capable of such evil, but how could she ignore what was right in front of her? She startled as he spoke, her heart racing.

"Come out, dearie; I know you're there," he tittered, moving over to inspect the small potions cabinet he'd brought up to the library since he'd been spending so much time with her there.

Belle bit her lip in indecision, but squared her shoulders and stepped out from her hiding spot. He'd search her out if she refused him, and she wouldn't show fear. Not to this man she'd come to care for so very much. The Dark One was only a small part of him, and she wouldn't allow that side to deter her. "You knew I was there all along, didn't you? Is that why you did it? Were you trying to scare me?" she asked, moving to stand behind him as he continued to piddle with his potions.

"I always know where you are, little maid," he whispered so softly she wouldn't have heard him had she not been standing so close. "You've seen me deal before. My actions shouldn't come as such a surprise to you. And I think I know you well enough now to know I don't frighten you … though I should." He glanced at her over his shoulder to gauge her expression.

She cast her eyes downward. "I've never seen you like that before, Master."

Rumpelstiltskin spun around, his fingers coming to rest beneath her chin. "Like what?" he sing-songed, toying with her. "Like I truly am?"

"Do you really want to have this argument again?" she challenged, her fingers twining with his as she pulled his hand from beneath her chin. She decided a change of subject would be wise. "Why do you want her to kill the queen?"

His eyes narrowed. "Who says I do? She won't succeed, dearie. Snow White is merely a pawn on my chessboard." His teeth gnashed together as he realized what he'd revealed to her. He pulled away from her and sought the comfort of his wheel.

Yet, his Belle was a persistent little thing. "You have bigger plans for them," she remarked distractedly. He could practically hear the gears spinning in her mind.

"Perhaps."

"That's not the same girl I knew long ago, Master. Do you know what happened to her?"

Rumpelstiltskin tried to block out the sweet tone of her voice, but it proved difficult when a part of his soul yearned for every bit of her. "She called on me for a potion, dearie. She was heartsore and wished to forget her true love. I tried to warn her." He had to look away from the tears which welled in her lovely eyes. It tore at him to see her so sad. "Pain is strength. To forget her love stole away a part of who she was and turned her cold, callous. Only her shepherd will be able to bring her back to herself."

Belle sniffled. "That's so tragic."

"Indeed, but not our problem." He sat down at his wheel, and cast her a fleeting look. "Tea, Belle. I'm finding myself rather parched."

*.*.*

Their tea time had been cut short by yet another visitor, this one not quite as amiable as the bandit princess. Belle hid in the shadows, out of sight of their guest, though she did not delude herself into thinking her master didn't know she was there. She listened to his song and dance with the princeling, unable to keep the amused smile from her lips. So, this was Snow White's true love. He seemed nice enough, she mused, though not half as interesting as her wily master. And Rumpelstiltskin fit a pair of leathers in a much more intriguing manner. The heat rose in her cheeks at that errant thought. She should be paying more attention to what the princeling was dealing for rather than ogling her master's backside.

Rumpelstiltskin made his way to the stairs as the front door closed behind him. He shot her a wry smirk from the bottom of the marble steps, his hands planted on his slim hips. "Dearie …"

Belle shrugged, pressing her lips together firmly to hide the laughter dancing in her eyes. She waited for him, tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow when he reached her. "I wasn't spying, Master, so don't even start in on me," she warned.

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it," he scoffed dryly.

"Might I ask why you really wanted the prince's cloak? And don't give me that drivel you spouted off to him, because I'm not buying it."

The mage wrinkled his nose. "You think you're so clever."

She batted her long lashes at him. "Only because I am," she replied coyly, taking the stairs up to the library ahead of him.

Rumpelstiltskin followed, hiding his amusement with her. He allowed her to get away with far more than any other would ever dare … and he enjoyed every second of their banter. He tossed the cloak on his worktable and collected his magnifying glass and a pair of tweezers, anxious to be done with his task. This was the closest he'd ever come to finding the key to bottling True Love, and he could barely contain his excitement. It was one of the last ingredients he needed for his plans to succeed.

Belle held his chipped cup in her hands as she leaned in next to him, the aromatic brew wafting up from the fine china. "What are you looking for?" she whispered, her warm breath ghosting over the shell of his ear.

The tweezers trembled between his fingers. "Who says I'm looking for anything?"

She arched a brow before glancing at the items in his hands. "It's pretty obvious," she giggled.

"Hmph." He turned back to his task, but her warmth and the sweet floral scent which clung to her was too much of a distraction. He huffed in exasperation. "I'll tell you what … if you run down to the kitchens to fetch us some tea cakes, I'll allow you to watch me brew the potion."

"You never let me watch," she breathed, delighted at the prospect.

"Well," he teased in a cajoling tone, "if you'd rather not …"

He threw his head back and sighed heavily as he watched her sprint for the stairs. It took so little to make her happy lately. She was back in record time, panting heavily from her apparent run, but in the time she'd been gone, he'd found the object he needed.

"A hair? That's what you were looking for?" she asked as she settled on the stool at his work table. Belle propped her chin in her hand, a frown knitting her brow. "Why would you need his hair?"

Rumpelstiltskin shook his head. "True love is the most powerful magic of all, and the only magic I've not been able to bottle, little dearie." He removed a vial set on the shelf and showed her the single hair inside. "This one belongs to the White princess." He held up the one secured between the tweezers. "And this one belongs to her true love."

Belle leaned in closer to watch as he dropped the princeling's hair into the vial with Snow's, a tiny gasp leaving her as the strands seemed to seek each other out and glow with a magic and life all their own. Of course, her curious nature wouldn't allow her to remain silent. "And this will only happen with true love?"

"As far as I've concluded, yes."

She drummed her fingers thoughtfully against the tabletop, an idea forming in her mind. "Will you have to add anything else to the vial in order to make the potion or will it just transform on its own?"

His gaze focused gleefully on the vial in his hands, pleased with the results within. "I will add to it for maximum effect," he murmured, lost in his concentration. Which was why he yelped when she reached up and plucked a hair right off the top of his head. "Flaming fairies! What do you think you're doing, woman!?"

She shot him a gamine-like grin, dropping it into another vial. "Nothing … just conducting a little experiment of my own." She pulled a hair from her own head, dropping it into the thin glass vessel, dancing away from him as he reached to snatch it from her hand. She didn't notice the panicked gleam in his eye nor the labor of his breathing. Yet, she'd forgotten she was dealing with a wizard. In a trice, she found herself transported to her room, the door locked for the duration of the evening. And she hadn't gotten a chance to see if her experiment had borne fruit.

Belle swiped a book from her night table and threw herself across the bed. "You cheated!" she called out, knowing he could hear her. Her disappointment was nearly crushing, for once again, he'd scored a point in their battle of wills.

Rumpelstiltskin's hand trembled, his heart beating furiously against his ribs as he watched the bright blue strand of Belle's hair coil around the softly glowing gold strand of his own. It wasn't possible, he cringed inwardly. She couldn't love him. Yet, the undeniable proof sat in the palm of his hand, mocking him.

A/N: This one was so much fun to write! I hope you all enjoyed it :D Until tomorrow, my darlings!