A/N: Yay new update! And a mega cliffhanger, but my wonderful readers will be able to imagine what is in store next! Enjoy! Love, Joanne.
The beauty trudged towards the front of the group, the two leading men flanking each side of her as they walked. The caravans of supplies trailed behind them, as did the men who were lucky enough to hitch a ride on horseback or in the supply caravan.
Belle's feet were hurting, she had walked several miles in order to capture the yaoguai, but she made sure she did not complain. She was grateful, however, that the men gave her something durable to wear. Though the tight, dusty red leather pants clung to her like glue, her matching red shirt with matching leather corset and puffy red and gold sleeves protected her delicate, porcelain skin from the harshness of the sun.
She held her beloved book, the book with which she was tracking the yaoguai with, peering into its depths every so often to check if they were on the right path. "Well, wench!" barked the man on her left. "Where is the bloody yaoguai?!"
"We are on the right path," replied Belle, trying to remain calm. She wished vainly that Rumplestilzkin could have smote the man. "We just need to cross the ravine at the ogre's pass, and then-"
But before the beauty could speak, the man from her right yanked the book out of her hands. "Thanks for saving us the trouble!"
The man laughed as he and the other man on her left jumped into the wagon before it began to take off at a quicker pace. Belle ran to catch up with them, but it was no use. She would never be able to keep up with them on foot.
She cursed at her rotten luck as the men laughed at her misfortune and stupidity. When they were completely out of sight, she chuckled to herself. The Dark One had truly rubbed off on Belle, for the book that the man had grabbed out of her hands was, in fact, Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson. She laughed at them, the fools who now had no one to guide them to the yaoguai, and now, a book that would not guide them further.
Belle trudged on alone, knowing exactly where she was going…
"Why do you feel the need to always be so… so…"
"Selfless?" I asked as I sat at the kitchen table, watching as Mr. Gold made dinner. Tonight was pasta night; the pasta was boiling in the steaming pot, and the marinara sauce was simmering in a large, white ceramic container on the stove.
"That's the word," said Mr. Gold as he stirred the simmering sauce.
I rolled my eyes. "What is the big deal?" I sighed. "I was granted a deal: I clean the shop, I choose one thing from the shop as payment. I did exactly as the deal asked, what more do you want?"
"That wolf necklace is not around your pretty neck!" growled Mr. Gold as he smacked the ceramic container of sauce with a wooden spoon with a loud clatter. "I said you could pick something out for YOURSELF, not for someone else damn it!"
"Listen, it was my decision, and I chose to take the necklace!" I shook with frustration as I stood up from the table. "What I do with my things is my own business! It was no longer yours from the second that I claimed it!"
"Why the hell did you do that?" growled Mr. Gold, equally as frustrated and aggravated.
"Because jewels and diamonds hold no price or meaning to me," I said quietly. "I do not need a golden bracelet, a sapphire necklace, or a diamond tiara. It is meaningless to me."
Mr. Gold shook his head. "Any woman, anyone really, when given the chance, would be selfish, and choose the most expensive object in my shop. But you?"
"Why is it a crime to give things to the ones you love?" I asked defiantly. "Ruby is my best friend, and I love and care for her very much. It made me feel good to give her something that she wanted. I doubt anything in that shop could conjure up a feeling similar."
"Are you certain about that dearie?" Mr. Gold growled softly. He set two bowls of pasta on the kitchen table down with a bang.
I blushed, and sat back down, staring down at my bowl of pasta. Nevertheless, we ate in steaming silence. When I finished, I took my dirty dish and fork to the sink, and began to wash them. "Leave it," said Mr. Gold firmly.
"I can take care of my dirty dishes myself," I said defiantly. I turned the water on, and began to clean my dishes. He grabbed my wrists, and the fork I was washing clattered to the sink.
"You are deliberately defiant, Miss Belle," he growled angrily. "Your insubordination shall be punished."
Without rinsing the suds off of my hands, he dragged me away from the kitchen, and into the room adjacent to his. As soon as he flicked on the lights, my jaw dropped to the floor.
"Oh shit…"