Why? The question rang throughout Belle's mind as she surveyed the room for the millionth time that night. Rumple has long made his way to his spinning wheel, leaving her to her own devices, but she was too shocked to even move. Why would he do this? Again, she questioned herself, adding one more sweep of the room to her tally.
I don't understand… Everything she had said to him, this is the last thing she expected. She expected to be thrown in the dungeon once more, or perhaps something—something viler. She expected death. Maybe not her own, but the village? She could understand that. But why would he do this? This is beyond what she could ever have imagined. She couldn't imagine what brought this on.
A lone cricket chirped outside the window, keeping time with its music. Casting a glance out the window, Belle saw the moon slowly starting its western fall, signaling just how late it truly was. She had sat, questioning her master's reaction, for hours. Something didn't add up, and she was determined to figure out what, exactly, had spurred her master.
In the event she did understand, what would she do? She couldn't simply ignore this. It was something she would always remember. No matter how bad he treated her in the future, this would overshadow them all. It was completely out of character, and completely beyond what even the greatest experts of the Dark One thought possible of him. It was… dumbfounding.
But if she didn't understand? No! She wouldn't think about that fact. It couldn't be so. These hours were slowly unraveling the mystery. She would ev—
"Still up, Dearie?"
The sharp, trilling words echoed through the tower, causing Belle to jump with fright. "I—ah—yes, yes I am. Is there something wrong?"
The Dark One chuckled. Not his usual, mocking chuckle, but a low, human one. One that chilled Belle to her very core. "I was about to ask you the same question. Is there a pea under the Princess' bed?" He asked with a maniacal flourish of his hand.
She casted a shy smile at the floor that accompanied a nervous giggle. Shifting her feet, she shook her head. "Not at all. I was just thinking."
The usual morbidly cheerful demeanor that graced Rumple vanished, morphing into a forlorn, knowing frown. He knew exactly what she was thinking about: home. Clenching his fists, he put on a sharp, forced grin. "Regretting your deal, dearie?" His sharp question came as he made his way to Belle's side, summoning a small chair to match her own.
The beauty stiffened, shaking her head in truth. "No, not that! I was just thinking of—of here. It—it's not what I expected, honestly. Yes, it's hard at times. You—you get in some moods, I won't deny it. But when you're spinning, or a good deal happens, it's… not bad."
A disbelieving frown formed. "I thought, living with the Dark One, you'd have picked up some better form of lying, dearie. Simply dreadful."
Belle considered sticking her tongue out at her master at this point, but decided it was better not to. Shaking her head with a playful smile, she nudged her master's shoulder with her own. "Maybe I need to get lessons, O Dark One. How much will that cost me?"
With an exaggerated stroke of his imaginary beard, the sorcerer pretended to think that through. "Nothing much, Dearie," he began, wildly gesturing, "just your very soul. It's nothing you'll miss."
Belle nodded, calculatingly. "I could see how I wouldn't miss that. It's not like I use it very often, after all," she retorted.
The Dark One froze. Time after time, this maid of his would catch him off guard. When he brought that shy, uncertain Princess to his castle, he simply thought he would make her miserable for a while before pawning her off to some uncaring slave trader. When he brought her home, however, he immediately wondered what he got himself into. He would find himself doing things—things like what he did earlier this night—that he knew he shouldn't have. She didn't deserve it, what with her yelling at him and such, but what could he do? Take it back? Then he would acknowledge it.
"I—ah—yes. Well, Dearie, as stimulating as this conversation has been, I have work to do. So—sleep, or clean, or whatever it may be. Deals to make and dreams to break, y'know."
Belle nodded her understanding as Rumple vanished in a purple blur. A small smile remained on her face as she stood up, dusting off the front of her skirt. This mystery—she would unravel it in the morning. Perhaps everything would come to her in her sleep? She could only hope.
Blowing out the candle on the table beside her, she stretched, casting a lazy glance around the room. This was so unlike him—yet so him. That was the best way to describe it. She couldn't imagine what it meant. Whatever it was, she didn't want it to stop.
She would begin the adventure this room brought in the morning. She knew not much work would get done, and then again—so did he.
Why else would he give her this library?