II
Belle has an Epiphany
Belle hummed softly to herself as she waited for the kettle to boil, taking the time to arrange the items on the tray in the order her master preferred. She'd never known a man so peculiar, but whereas it would have turned her off in another man, Rumpelstiltskin's obsessive actions merely intrigued her. It had come as such a surprise to her, that rare glimpse behind the mask of the Dark One. When the sea witch had released her into his arms and he'd caught her with such gentle ease, his amber eyes so filled with concern; it had stolen her breath. Despite his bluster and grandiose gestures, he was still a man beneath it all, one who was afraid to let anyone in.
He may deny it all he liked, but deep down he did indeed care for her even if it were as no more than a friend and companion. She hadn't realized, at first, how upset he'd been by her abduction. But it had hit him harder than she could have imagined. Where before he'd leave her to her duties for sometimes days at a time, now her skin prickled with awareness, feeling him watching her at odd times during the day as he lurked amongst the shadows.
The last time he'd gone on a deal – in the three weeks since her rescue – he'd taken her along with him, claiming to need her to attend him. She was his caretaker, after all. She'd been so excited to be leaving the castle on a small adventure, she hadn't argued. It was later she finally noticed the little changes in his dealings towards her. He no longer intentionally tried to frighten her, his manner more soft-spoken, gentle. He sought out her company more frequently, refraining from hiding himself away in his tower laboratory for days at a time, seemingly afraid she'd be spirited away from him again. He'd also begun to leave her little gifts … dresses, ribbons, books, a journal … things he thought she might need or want. Almost as if he were courting her.
A small winsome smile curled her lips as the kettle whistled and she removed it from the hook over the fire. Had he even realized what it was he'd been doing? she wondered. Did he know he was slowly melting her heart and making her want him more and more each day? She no longer had dreams of escape, of returning to her old life. Despite her sacrifice, she'd still harbored some hope she'd be able to leave at some point … Either by escape or the chance he'd tire of her and release her from her deal. Now the Dark Castle was her home – Rumpelstiltskin was her home – and she couldn't imagine her life without either.
Belle's lips parted on a silent gasp, the sugar bowl she was holding slipping from her numb fingers to clatter against the tray. She had feelings for her master. They'd developed so slowly, she hadn't even noticed. She wrung her hands as a wave of heat suffused her chest, spreading rapidly up her neck to settle in the apples of her cheeks. For a long time, she'd considered him a friend – better than those few she'd had in Avonlea – but now … what? Did she care for him on a deeper level? Did she want him? Truly want him as a woman wants a man?
She closed her eyes and let herself wonder what it would be like to kiss her wily master, how it would feel to have his lips pressed to hers, how he would taste if she ran her tongue over the seam and then dart inside his mouth. She sat down hard on the stool there at the worktable and fanned herself with her apron, the heat in her cheeks surely hot enough to scorch. Well, she thought – a whimper racing up out of her throat – that answered her question. She definitely wanted him.
But what if she were wrong about his feelings? What if he didn't care for her in that way? It could be that he simply wanted to know her better, to treat her a bit kinder. Forever was a long time. Wouldn't it make sense to want a better relationship with his companion? Some of her previous excitement dwindled as her heart sank. She would simply have to bide her time and see if the signs she'd read in his demeanor were correct or not. Gods, but she hated waiting!