VII

Gaston's nose and broad brow scrunched up in confusion as he watched his men on the practice field. He'd missed training with them yesterday in favor of coaxing Belle out of the castle to go riding and visit the book shop in town, but he couldn't miss two days in a row. He was their leader and it wouldn't do for him to be seen slacking off. He was disappointed because the excursion had been an epic failure. It hadn't begun badly. He'd taken Belle out along the coast, one of their favorite haunts to go riding. It hadn't taken her long to get used to being on Dash's back once more … and then …

He'd never seen her ride like that before. It was as if she was one with the horse, flying over the wet sand, pushing the gelding at a pace which could surely out distance a horde of ogres. He hadn't known if the horse had been spooked or if it was her own urging which had sent them off at such a breakneck pace. He'd immediately set out after her, his stallion easily overtaking the gelding, bracing his knees against the pommel and his arms reaching out for her to lift her over onto his lap. She'd been … bloody well furious! She'd railed at him that she was in no danger and he should've kept his hands to himself, that it had been the first time she'd felt alive, the first time she'd been able to feel something besides the gut-wrenching pain of heartbreak since leaving the Dark Castle. She'd left him standing there on the beach with his mouth agape, whistling for her horse and leaving him to find his own way back to the stables.

Then later that afternoon, he'd escorted her through town to the bookshop. It had to have been the first time she'd ever entered the establishment without leaving with an armload of books. It was rather daunting to see her in such a state with no clear way he could think of to help her. She'd always been an avid reader, seeking knowledge and solace from her books. Yesterday, she'd seemed to take more pleasure from greeting her people and have them offer their gratitude for the sacrifice she'd made.

There were many who praised her and an equal number who turned away in fear at the sight of the glaring mark on her neck. She refused to heed his advice and take her hair down to hide the mark, declaring it was nothing for her to be ashamed of. And if the people of Avonlea ever forgot the sacrifice she'd made, the mark would be there to remind them. Rumpelstiltskin was the biggest fool she knew, but she still belonged to him because no matter how she might wish it otherwise, he still possessed her heart. She feared he always would.

It was ridiculous. She was his closest friend and the smartest person he'd ever known. How could she have let herself be taken in by the crafty mage who had demanded her as payment for his aid? He gave himself a mental shake and concentrated his attention on his knights, allowing his squire to help him into his hauberk - a tunic of chain mail worn as defensive armor - and leather jerkin. His attention was so fixated on the dueling combatants on the field, he barely paid heed to his squire. His squire? He could have sworn he'd seen the small stature of his squire practicing with Brutal. His gaze jerked down to the lad and he frowned.

"I thought you were on the field, Magnus," he said, puzzled at the lad's presence at his side, unable to shake a scalding sense of dread which prickled at the back of his neck.

"No, milord. Today's Thursday. My duties keep me from training on Thursdays," the boy answered.

"Then who the …"

His mouth fell open as the diminutive knight lost purchase on his sword. He'd already been disarmed of his dagger and was in the process of losing the duel. Instead of surrendering, he faked right, and dropped to the ground on his back. His opponent, who had the force of his advance to take him by surprise, fought to catch his balance. The fallen knight grabbed the collar of his opponent's jerkin as he made to fall, propped his booted feet to his opponent's midsection and deftly propelled him over his head. Quickly regaining his feet, and his sword, he placed the blade to Brutus' chest and demanded he yield. It was a brilliant display, but somehow very familiar. He remembered suddenly how he'd taught Belle the same move years ago when she'd coerced him into training her with sword and dagger. She wouldn't!

The knight removed his helmet and a long chestnut braid tumbled down her back, a breathtaking smile upon her rosebud mouth as she offered her hand to one of his best knights. Gaston stalked across the field, his features schooled into a thundercloud as he went to face her.

`"Well done, highness," Brutus said, groaning as he gained his feet. He knew he would wear the bruises from this sojourn onto the field today.

"You went easy on me, Brutal, but I thank you," she said sincerely.

"Not too easy, I would think," he countered, remembering a few well aimed blows she'd taken. He hoped her armor had protected her somewhat and she wouldn't bear evidence to their folly on the field.

"No," she laughingly replied, tucking her helmet under her arm and following him off the field. "I'm certain I will be feeling it tomorrow." Her smile faded as she watched Gaston approach and she bit back a groan, squaring her shoulders and gathering her station about her like a cloak. She knew she'd taken an unnecessary risk out on the field today. Brutus had been the only knight she'd been able to convince to step onto the field with her, having done so before when they had been teenagers. He and Gaston had balked at first when she'd approached them, begging to be trained as a knight, but they'd quickly relented when she'd shown them how serious she was in her endeavor. Today had proven she was still a worthy opponent.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Belle? Have you taken a complete leave of your senses?" he thundered, pointing a finger under her royal nose. She was tempted to bend it to an odd angle, a simple maneuver he'd taught her long ago, but she didn't want to shame him before his troops.

"Oh, give over, Gaston. The workout did me a world of good." She pivoted on her toes and showed off her unblemished leathers. "See, not a scratch."

"Belle," he whined. "This is behavior unbecoming a princess. It …"

Brutus interrupted, dropping his head into his hand with a groan. "Oh, bloody damn!"

Gaston glanced over his shoulder as Belle's eyes widened in alarm and she edged behind Brutus to hide. She had just kicked some major behind on the training field and she was hiding at the sight of her approaching father on horseback. Gaston pasted an overly bright smile on his face and straightened his shoulders, all too aware of the quaking princess hiding among them. Brutus moved to Gaston's side to give her more cover and he too smiled brightly. Although Brutus's smile was more strained and not the least bit convincing.

"Majesty," Gaston began, his voice cracking. He cleared his throat and tried again. "What brings you down to the field?"

The king raised a sardonic brow and glared at his two most skilled and loyal knights. "Let me see. Imagine my surprise when I stepped out onto the balcony for a bit of air, cast my eyes on the training field … as I do every morning, I might add … and witnessed my daughter's prowess with a sword. Imagine the terror which coursed through me when I realized the danger my little girl had placed herself in," he said in a tone of quiet menace, his large beefy hands clasped tightly behind his back to stay them from throttling the two knights before him.

"Sire …"

"Your majesty …"

"I don't want to hear it. Belle, you might as well come out, my girl."

Brutus and Gaston separated, and Belle tumbled forward, regaining her feet before she stumbled into her father. "Hello, Papa," she mumbled sheepishly, wringing her hands at being caught.

Maurice offered his arm to her and Belle narrowed her eyes on her two friends, thrusting her helmet at Brutus and mouthing traitors at the two men before slipping her hand into the crook of her father's arm. He gave her a boost up into the saddle and mounted behind her, his arms slipping protectively about her waist as he grabbed for the reins.

They set off at a trot across the field, silent for several moments as Maurice let her stew. "Would you care to explain yourself, young lady?" he asked, using that scolding tone he knew she loathed.

"I was just blowing off steam, Papa. You know Brutal wouldn't let any harm come to me," she said defensively.

"Belle, you are a princess, heir to the throne. You shouldn't …"

"Yes, and I've always done things to make you disappointed in me," she murmured sullenly, chewing thoughtfully at her lower lip. "I'm sorry."

He transferred the reins to one hand and tipped her chin up with the other, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Oh, my sweet girl. Never have you given me reason to be disappointed in you. You are brave and spirited, intelligent and cunning, and one of the most beautiful women in all the realm. Now I find you are as skilled as many of my knights. How could you ever think I would be disappointed in you? You will make a fine queen one day," his voice gruff with emotion as he confessed.

"Oh, Papa. I love you," she whispered, returning his embrace.

"Now as much as I would wish for you to refrain from such dangerous activities, would you care to tell me the real reason you were on the training field this morning?"

She cast her eyes in the distance, taking in the glory of spring which wound its way through her kingdom. "I … ah … I felt the need to hit something … really, really hard."

Maurice sighed. "I believe you should go back. Maybe if you were able to talk to him again …"

Belle's eyes widened, and she cast him a look of pure astonishment. "You're not serious."

"I am. I'll travel with you. So would Gaston and Brutus if that is what you wished to do," he assured her, the muscle in his jaw twitching as he clenched his teeth. If she only knew what it was costing him to make the suggestion. "Perhaps after the ball this Saturday, we might be able to plan a trip."

"I can't believe you just offered …"

"It didn't come easily, my girl. As your king, it goes against everything I wish for your future, but as your father I only want to see you happy. And you, my darling, are not happy."

Belle's shoulders drooped, and she slumped back against her father's broad chest. "As much as I would love to take you up on your offer just to give Rumpelstiltskin a piece of my mind, I can't accept. He doesn't want me anymore. If he did, he would have come for me," she replied, trying to keep her voice from sounding too dejected. "I just have to find something here to make me happy."

"If you change your mind …"

Belle ground her teeth together to stave off the tears she felt prickling at her eyes. "I know, Papa."

She groaned inwardly at the thought of the annual ball held for the king's birthday. She'd be subjected to fittings for her ball gown for the remainder of the week and she was not looking forward to it with even a hint of pleasure. But she would endure and put on a brave face for her father. It wasn't asking too much to suffer through it for him.

*.*.*

Rumpelstiltskin braced both of his hands against the mantle over the hearth in the Great Hall and willed himself to remain still, to fight the pull he felt flow through his body, commanding his presence. He focused all of his energy, breaking out in a sweat to stave off the urge to heed the call. Perhaps her mark itched, and she'd had to scratch at it … and just happened to be thinking of him. He knew his Belle was too stubborn to summon him. She was probably furious with him for the way he'd so callously disregarded her feelings and booted her out of the castle. He tried to concentrate on what she was feeling, and he could sense she wasn't in mortal peril. Would she even summon him if she were in danger? "Soon, love. It won't be much longer before I come for you," he whispered to the empty room as he felt the thrall leave his senses ravaged.

Where in hell was the hatter? He should have returned yesterday. The potion was ready, and he desperately needed that diamond. It was the only jewel strong enough to contain the spell which would ensure his ability to be able to kiss his true love without destroying his curse. Damnit! He didn't have time for such a delay. He should have gone himself. He would give Jefferson until the end of the day to accomplish the task he'd set him. Then, he would go after him to see what kind of trouble he'd gotten himself into. He huffed out a sigh of frustration and dropped into his chair at the table, propping his booted feet upon the gleaming surface and settling Belle's diary against his chest to read another entry.

2nd of April

Something is troubling my master … er … Rumpelstiltskin. He has been so different of late, ever since "the incident", which is what I've been calling his night of drunkenness. His behavior can only be called skittish at best, as though he's nervous to be in my company. I'm afraid I may have broken something between us and I saddens me greatly. It has been troubling me as well. Even before that night, I found myself desiring him, but now I find that I want so much more.

I crave to have his arms around me, his hands on my flesh and his lips against mine. And now I am having the most disturbing dreams, dreams of him in my bed, wrapped around me in the most delicious debauchery, next to me, above me … in me … and I wake panting and aching for him. I've taken to finding any excuse to put my hands on him, albeit innocently, but I can't seem to help myself. I know he will never want me that way, especially after his panic over finding me in his bed, but I need to feel him, to know that even in a small way he is mine. Just a brush of my fingertips to his as I hand him his tea sends a jolt of sinful pleasure spiraling throughout my body.

I'm tempted to go out and lie in the melting snow in the courtyard! But seeing as how closely he watches me, that would be a bit hard to explain. "Yes, Master, I'm lying in the snow because all I can think about is having you take me against the table in the Great Hall during tea time." Yes, that would go over extremely well. I would never be able to look into his lovely amber eyes again!

At times, as I read to him after dinner in the evenings while he spins at the wheel, I think I see something behind his eyes, or in his crooked smile, but he hides his feelings so well, I can't be certain.

Rumpelstiltskin laid the journal in his lap, careful not to brush it against his raging erection. Gods! His precious Belle had wanted him, desired him in her bed. How could she want him, green-gold flesh, claws and all? He never would have imagined she'd want him in that way, true love or not. In all his contemplations of rushing to Avonlea to bring her home, he'd never thought about that side of their relationship. He firmly believed they could be happy and go on just as chastely as before. He was a fool. He should have known as passionate and fiery of spirit as she was, she'd never accept that. But it amazed him nonetheless.

Now that he'd read the truth of her desire in her own hand, he couldn't dispel the thought from his mind. To know she'd dreamt of him, of his hands on her, touching her, pleasuring her, was nearly more than he could bear, and he had to bite back the needy whimper which fell from his lips. His flesh felt hot, his fingertips itching to have her there, on his lap, wrapped around him, willing and wanting, and the violent urge he had to whisk himself off to fetch her was overwhelming. He ran a hand over his long face and glowered at the clock, cursing the hatter for his tardiness.

This is really not what I expected when I agreed to forever with Rumpelstiltskin. I expected to serve him and care for his home and his needs. I never expected to have such deep abiding feelings of longing for him. I want to be in his bed, in his life and … in his heart. But could he ever care for me in such a way? I wish I had the courage to ask him outright, but alas I find myself a coward in this regard.

"That makes two of us, sweetheart," he shook his head ruefully.

4th of April

My feet are bloody well killing me! I really must ask Rumpelstiltskin for some sensible shoes. These heels were not the best choice for a foray down the mountain. I can't believe I am sitting in the tavern … in the village … at the bottom of the mountain … by … my … self. He asked that I fetch him some fresh straw. And what is so wrong with the endless supply in the stable or the cellar for that matter? It's good enough for the horses … and the mice, too. I'm so confused. After days of acting strangely, he's sent me to town and I don't think he expects me to return. Have I angered him in some way where he doesn't want me any longer? How am I supposed to feel about that? It feels extremely odd to be in town without him by my side. Although, the stares I receive from the villagers as well as the all too loud whispers are very much the same as if he were here with me. I know, because of my mark, I am still within the circle of his protection, but I miss his presence.

If he had been with me, I doubt I would have been accosted on the road.

His heart began to pound harder and the breath left his lungs in a loud whoosh as he read the entry. He could only think of one person brazen enough to dare accost someone bearing his mark … not that he'd ever marked anyone before, but still … only one person with no thought to his wrath should the truth ever come to light. That vicious little harpy! He was tempted to pay Regina a visit just to show her who held the power in this realm. Perhaps later. Bringing his beloved home was more important than the little war he waged with his former apprentice. Oh, but she would pay for her interference.

I don't know who she was, but there was just something so inherently evil about her. I wanted to be rid of her, but she insisted on walking a ways with me towards town. She believed me to be running from my master. If she knew anything about me whatsoever, she would realize I was more likely to be running towards my master.

She said if he loved me, he would have let me go. I was dumbfounded and didn't know how to reply at first. But the thought that Rumpelstiltskin could actually love me nearly made my heart flutter out of my chest. Could he actually return the same feelings I held for him? I became even more suspicious when she began spouting off about true love and that perhaps my master is as he is because of a curse. Could he really be cursed? Was he possibly just an ordinary man once? Could he be again? Would he even want to be normal again after centuries of being the Dark One?

Now what am I supposed to do? If he does indeed have feelings for me as I do for him, eventually it's going to happen. I really need to get home to the library. There must be something in there which can help educate me on this. I can imagine his fury if something happens and he thinks I've deliberately set out to hurt him …

And damned if that wasn't just what had happened. She'd held herself away from him in order to preserve his feelings, had withdrawn and kept herself at a distance until that fateful day when he'd kissed her. He had never felt like more of a bastard than he did at that moment and he pushed the diary away from him across the table with a curse, sinking back into his chair and burying his face in his hands, feeling more shame than he ever felt in his long life. If she never forgave him, he would deserve it and much more. But he had to try and pray she loved him still.

He was interrupted from his morose musings as the front doors of the castle banged back loudly against the stone wall. He leapt to his feet, prepared to defend, magic crackling at his fingertips as the hatter limped through the double doors leading into the Great Hall. Rumpelstiltskin caught the tip of his tongue between his teeth and steepled his hands before him, trying in vain not to laugh.

Jefferson stood before him, scowling, his eyes narrowed with malicious intent and tossed the staff at Rumpelstiltskin's feet. "I quit!"

Rumpelstiltskin giggled, unable to control himself any longer. Jefferson's shirt was missing, his emerald frock coat hanging in tatters as well as one pants leg. But the funniest thing had to be the arrow sticking out of his overlarge hat. And was that lipstick on his neck? "My, my, my, I do believe Jadis took a liking to you, Hatter."

"I will never," Jefferson began, pointing an accusing finger at the imp. "Ever! Do a job for you again!"

The sorcerer conjured a tray of tea and sandwiches and nodded for Jefferson to take a seat in the extra chair at the table. "So, I left out a few details," he shrugged, pouring himself a cup of tea and taking his own seat. "I rather have a lot on my mind at present and can't be held accountable for my lapse in memory."

Jefferson glared at him and poured his own cup of the brew, collapsing into his seat and pulling the ragged edges of his coat over his bare chest. "I barely escaped that place with all of my appendages intact," he huffed.

"Yes, Jadis, is quite insatiable, but nothing, I'm sure, you couldn't handle," Rumpelstiltskin said, giggling again and waggling his brows suggestively.

"Next time you need something from her, YOU go to Narnia and deal with it!"

Rumpelstiltskin eyed the hatter over the rim of his cup and bit back another laugh. "I don't think m'Belle would appreciate that overmuch."

"If she decides to forgive you," Jefferson hissed, hitting the imp where it would hurt the most.

Rumpelstiltskin tossed him a rather large bag of gold coins and scowled. "This should more than make up for your troubles."

"And just what am I to tell Alice? How am I to look her in the eye after having to dally with that vicious witch in order to procure the staff? She's never going to forgive me," he groaned dejectedly, frowning down into his tea.

Rumpelstiltskin had the decency to look ashamed at what his friend had endured in order to help him. He tossed the man another bag of gold. "You did what you had to do to accomplish the task I set you. If you feel the need to blame someone, you can always tell your lovely wife the Dark One made you do it," he offered, repairing Jefferson's clothing with a wave of his hand. "Besides, she'll only find out if you decide to tell her. What she doesn't know won't hurt you."

Jefferson pasted a false smile on his mouth and raised a brow. "I am so telling Belle when she comes home. I am going to tell her just what you put me through in her absence."

"I simply asked you to do a job for me. I can't be held accountable for what you chose to do in order to complete it," Rumpelstiltskin replied, taking advantage of the loophole in their deal. He shifted uncomfortably as he imagined the scolding Belle would give him regardless.

Jefferson snorted and grabbed for a ham sandwich. Rumpelstiltskin considered the conversation finished and scooped the staff up in his long-fingered spinner's hands, regarding it closely. With a flourish of his wrist, the diamond separated from the staff, coming to rest in the imp's hand. The staff was then tossed into the fire blazing in the hearth.

"Are you ever going to tell me what's so important about that particular diamond?" Jefferson asked around a mouthful of sandwich.

Rumpelstiltskin's amber eyes gleamed as he studied the gem in his hand, realizing, for the first time in days, he could breathe easy, the answer to his true love's kiss dilemma finally at hand. "Really, Hatter, could you think of a more perfect stone to adorn my bride's delicate finger?" he asked over his shoulder, striding purposefully out of the Great Hall to ascend the stairs to the tower where the potion and his spell book awaited him.

Jefferson choked on his sandwich and hastily downed the rest of his lukewarm tea to help clear his throat. He couldn't possibly have heard the sorcerer correctly. No, it just wasn't possible. He decided then and there he would accompany his friend to Avonlea. He wouldn't miss that showdown for the wide world.

A/N: Hope everyone is happy with this update. I really love AU, so I can twist things to please my muse. Hope you all are pleased as well. Next chapter, our beloved Rumpel will be paying Belle a visit and all I can say is … let the fireworks ensue! Please read and review. I can't wait to hear your comments. Thanks to all who have faved and followed as well. xoxoxo