VIII

Truth Will Out

The Dark One growled low in his throat as he tossed his bath towel in a corner for Belle to collect for the laundry the next day. He'd hoped a nice hot soak in the tub would help to calm his simmering rage, but it hadn't. He thrust his arms in the sleeve of his emerald colored silk shirt with the gold embroidery about the cuffs, uncaring if his skin was still damp. Nothing mattered anymore … naught except his little maid and what it was she was hiding from him.

Just once couldn't he have someone in his life who would be honest with him? His son was gone, lost to a portal to gods only knew where, with no way to get to him. His wife hadn't been able to abide the sight of him and his lover had wanted nothing but his power. He'd truly thought Belle was different. Yet, now she was playing the same games, on the brink of abandoning him, too. If only he could uncover the circumstances which had made her change so suddenly.

The voices in his head chanted a litany of pleas … pleas to help her. Despite their innate evil, they had one thing in common … their love for the girl. Their host had been better, calmer, less manic since the girl had come there, and much easier to control. If the spinner thought for a moment his little maid was in danger, he would do whatever they wanted.

"Something's wrong."

"Save her."

"Help her."

"She needs you."

"You mustn't fail her, Rumpelstiltskin."

The sorcerer pressed the heels of his hands against his closed lids, fighting for control, nearly missing the soft tap at his bedroom door. The voices instantly grew louder at the prospect of being in her presence, urging him to allow her entry. He didn't need his curse to hurry him towards the door to let her in. She had come to him – finally – and he could only hope it was because she was ready to confide in him.

Her hand was raised to knock again when he opened the door, catching it back at the last second and folding it in against her chest. Her cheeks bloomed with color as she offered him a sheepish smile. It didn't escape his notice that she hadn't bothered to dress after her bath, having slipped into her nightclothes. She wasn't in the habit of appearing at his chamber door, much less so scantily attired. He had to beat the voices back with a stick, back to the far corners of his mind where they couldn't cause too much mischief. At least he could be thankful they weren't presenting themselves in the room where he could see them. His dealings with Belle would be far more difficult if they did.

"Rumpelstiltskin … may I come in?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. Had she been crying again, he wondered.

His nails dug into the smooth wood of the door as he regarded her with his scrutinizing gaze. "I don't know, dearie. Are you ready to talk to me?"

"Yes," she breathed, her eyes soft as she finally raised them to meet his. "It's time."

His brow furrowed, eyes narrowing as he stepped back to allow her entry. He offered her a seat in one of the matched wingback chairs before the hearth, figuring she could use the warmth, if her trembling frame was any indication. He sat opposite her, settling back in the chair and stretching out his long legs before him, appearing relaxed when he felt anything but.

"Alright … I'm listening," he prompted when she simply sat there staring at him, her eyes riveted on his chest. He glanced down at himself, pulling his shirt tails together over his exposed flesh. It was his turn to blush now, his cheeks glowing golden.

Belle held up the little blue book she'd brought, her hands clasped tightly around the leather to still their trembling. "I have a gift … for later."

"Isn't that the journal I gave you?"

"It is," she nodded, her throat working furiously as she fought to get the words out without choking. "I fear you'll need it."

His jaw clenched, the muscle in his cheek ticking angrily as he shot to his feet and pointed an accusing finger in her direction. "You've come to ask me to release you from our deal, haven't you? Haven't you?! You want to leave!"

She rose to follow him as he stalked away towards his bed, his fingers curling about the bedpost as if he needed its aid to remain standing. "No! No, I don't want to leave you." He flinched as she laid a hand on his chest, her thumb caressing the hollow of his throat. "I … I love you, Rumpel."

Rumpelstiltskin gaped at her, the voices in his head forming their own cheering section. He pushed them back and schooled his features into a disbelieving mask as he snorted. "Yes, dearie, you've more than proven that over the last month." He pushed her hand away, unable to bear the softness of her touch when his heart was shattering. "You can't love me, Belle … no one can."

"I do," she whispered, closing more of the distance between them, pressing her petite frame to his and wrapping her arms about his waist.

Gods, how he wanted to believe her. How he wanted to crush her to him, take what she so willingly offered and lose himself in her warmth. Instead, he took her shoulders in a firm grip and set her from him. "Enough of this nonsense, Belle. Tell me what has been troubling you, or leave, but I won't stand here and listen to these lies."

Belle clasped her hands before her, fidgeting as she glanced down at her feet to hide the tears caused by his rejection. "I can't … tell you, per se."

"Of course, you can," he roared. "There's nothing stopping you!"

Belle moved between his parted knees and cradled his face in her hands as he sank down heavily onto the edge of the bed. She tried to convey with her gaze what her lips wouldn't allow her to speak. "I'm thinking of taking up poetry writing as a hobby."

He stared back at her as if she'd grown another head. "What?" he growled. "What are you on about now? What has this to do –"

She leaned in and slanted her lips over his, melting against him at that first taste. It was enough to silence him, thankfully. She'd kissed others in her short life, but none had ever had the power to make her knees turn to jelly, or her stomach quiver with desire. He tasted of tea and spice and magic, a heady combination which threatened to steal her breath and befuddle her mind. She whimpered softly as his long fingers curled over her hips and drew her closer.

His eyes were darker, the pupils large and filled with lust as she drew back. "I wrote you a poem, my master. Would you care to hear it?" she whispered, her warm breath fanning his lips.

Rumpelstiltskin nodded dumbly, as much as her gentle grasp would allow, his brows drawing together as he took note of the fear in her eyes. What was she so afraid of? She had the beast of the Dark Castle in the palm of her hand, and was the bravest woman he'd ever known. Fear should never darken her gaze.

She pressed another kiss to the corner of his mouth, and he tried to focus on what she was saying.

"Open up and see inside,

Where my fears I cannot hide.

Open up and look within,

Where there is naught but bleak and grim."

Oh, his little one needed to work on her rhyming … but wait, what did she have to fear? Was she trying to tell him something … some hidden message within her poor attempt at poetry? What game was she playing? His confusion only increased when she took his hand and brought it to rest against her chest, over her heart. A tiny whimper burbled up out of his throat, her skin softer than silk beneath his hand. But wait … she was speaking again, and he had to chase away the lust-induced fog which clouded his brain.

"My darling love, how you tempt me,

To reveal the longing in my heart.

But where I love and yearn and want is cold and bare,

Gone forever to leave me naught but despair."

The breath froze in his chest, the icy hand of fear clutching at his heart as he took in her words and noticed the absence of the heartbeat which should be pounding beneath his hand. Her heart … her heart was gone! Fire blazed in the depths of his eyes as everything fell into place. When she had begun acting so oddly coincided with the queen's visit, and she confirmed it with the last lines of her sonnet.

"Stolen from you before you knew

The love I feel forever true

Stolen from me before I could gift it to you."

Belle covered his lips with her fingertips to forestall the rage threatening to spill from the tip of his tongue, fearing somehow the queen would know and kill her in an instant. The pleading in her eyes, her alabaster skin white with terror, and the rapid breaths she drew in thankfully were enough to convince him to hold his silence.

"Did you like it, Master?" she asked in as normal a tone as she could manage.

His teeth ground together in his fury. "Oh, yes, dearie, it was quite illuminating." He remembered her journal then. "And is there anything else you'd care to share with me this evening?"

Belle smiled in relief, tearing herself away from him to fetch the little leather-bound book. She hurried back to his side and turned it to the last page, the very one she'd written before coming to him that evening.

Journal entry 15th April –

I'm out of time. The queen grows impatient, and I fear she won't accept any more excuses. If I cannot be helpful in her cause to find Rumpelstiltskin's dagger, she will not hesitate to end my life. I can't continue to hide this ruse from my master. I love him too much to betray him. If my life is forfeit, at least I will go to my death knowing I was a true and faithful servant to him.

I know it pains him to see me keep my distance, but it pains me more. To know he cares for me, to know he wants me, too, and not be able to show him. I weep with sadness. I want nothing more than to be his in every sense of the word, but I cannot give Regina more ammunition to use against him. I've tried so hard to break her thrall, but I fear it is a hopeless endeavor. I will try to make him understand with the time I have left, just how much I do love him. I will try to make him see his happiness is more important than my life.

Belle screamed as he tossed the book aside and roared with rage, hauling her onto the bed and pulling her beneath him, blanketing her with his body as if he could physically protect her. Tears continued to course down her face as he did nothing more than stare down at her, his eyes nearly completely black with his fury, his hands shaking with it. He tore the jeweled comb from her hair and threw it at the wall with such force, it shattered.

"Rum –"

Rumpelstiltskin cut her off, his mouth descending over hers in a kiss which stole her breath, so gentle and reverent despite the rage spiraling throughout his wiry form. His hands covered hers where they rested next to her head, his thumbs caressing her sensitive palms and drawing a helpless moan from her throat. He brought them to rest on either of his temples with an unspoken command to leave them there. He moved his own fingertips to rest on hers, the touch joining them with a faint hint of blue tinged magic.

"What in the blue fuck were you thinking?" his inner voice growled low and annoyed.

Her eyes sprang open in surprise, her lips poised with an answer his lips refused to let her loose. "H-How are we able to talk like this?" It was a wonder she could think at all as his tongue darted out to gently glide over her lower lip.

"I'm the Dark One, dearest. There are a great many things I can do. Now I want you to explain to me why you thought it such a wonderful idea to keep this from me. And where did you get that bloody comb?"

Belle glanced over at the shattered remains of the diamond comb, a frown knitting her brow. "I thought it was from you. It was left on my vanity."

He shook his head, careful not to dislodge her fingers from his temples. "No. I would never give you anything with a reflective surface which Regina might use to spy on us." He leaned in again and nipped sharply at her lower lip. "You should have told me she took your heart, Belle. How can I protect you if you keep secrets from me?"

She whimpered softly as his tongue teased the inside of her lip before slipping inside to duel with hers. "Ummmm …" she moaned.

Rumpelstiltskin broke the kiss, and pressed his brow to hers, nuzzling against her nose. "Focus, Belle."

"Can't … you have no idea how long I've wanted you to kiss me."

"Belle …" he said in a warning tone, his voice rich and warm as it caressed her mind.

She tried desperately to push her desire aside and focus on answering his questions. "She forbade me from speaking of it. I literally couldn't tell you what was happening to me. I'm so sorry, Master. Please believe me. I would never betray you."

"And what would you have done if you'd actually come across the dagger?"

A wide smile bloomed on her lips as her thumbs caressed his sharp cheekbones. "It wasn't likely I'd find it. I only looked in rooms I knew you wouldn't have thought to hide it."

"Clever girl," he murmured. He avoided her lips as she tilted her face up to kiss him, and ignored the pout thereafter. "You do realize I'm going to have to kill her now."

"What? No, you can't!"

"How can you say that after what she's done to you?!" his inner voice roared, making her head hurt.

"Not for her … for you. Being the Dark One for centuries can't have been easy on your soul, Rumpelstiltskin. Don't add another murder to those you've already committed. Don't let another death blacken your heart."

"How can you say that?! How!? I cannot let this stand, Belle … I will not!"

Belle leaned up and kissed the rapidly beating pulse point beneath his firm jaw. "Please, Master?"

He groaned, already feeling himself wanting to give into her plea. "Why would you care if I darkened just a bit more, dearie?"

"Because I love you. I believe I mentioned that earlier."

"You can't love me."

"Yes, I can. It's quite easy actually."

He shook his head. "Beautiful princesses don't fall in love with the monster … they wait to be rescued by the prince."

"I'm not a princess any longer and you're not a monster, so therefore the point is moot," she retorted, her inner voice just as provoking as her real one, he realized.

"Really now? And just what are you then, dearie?"

"Yours."

He shivered, his body tightening with desire. "We'll continue this conversation once I return."

"You're leaving?!" she asked, panic shrieking through his head and making it his own.

"Well, I can't have her running amok with your heart, now can I?" His eyes narrowed as he pressed his nose to hers. "We will also discuss your punishment for keeping vital information from me. Are we clear?"

Belle nodded slowly, the consequences of her actions and the promise of retribution at his hands sending a tremor of pleasure sparking through her. "Yes, Master," she fairly purred.

Rumpelstiltskin kissed her again, pouring his need into one fevered brush and dance of his lips on hers, needing her to know just how much he cared. He was still plenty angry over her duplicity, but that could be dealt with after her heart had been restored. He left her breathless and panting, curled on the silken duvet as his magic carried him away on a breath of purple smoke.