Belle remained in the tower for a time, keeping the Dark One - Rumplestiltskin - company as he spun straw into heavy strands of gold thread.
He had informed her of his task.
The king had summoned him from the dungeon at daybreak, commanding that he fill the castle treasury with gold.
An easy enough task, of course, and he could have just stolen the gold from a far-off kingdom...but where would the fun be in that?
The king had ordered him to fill the treasury with gold, yet he had not specified what shape the gold was to take, and so the fat fool would have to content himself with the chest upon chest of thread or emply a blacksmith to melt it down and then press it into Avonlean coin.
A simple way to thumb his nose at the throne. One takes victory where he can find them.
All of this Rumplestiltskin told her with a smug sort of smile and Belle had to laugh at his trick. She found herself agreeing that it served her father right, both for forcing such a task on him and for providing him with such a cramped workspace.
"Oh, no, this place was of my choosing." He corrected her.
"You wanted to be up here? Why?"
"It is quiet. I needed some quiet today." He said with a shrug. "That and it forces the knights to make their way up here with the chests. Let them do some work for once. I don't think anyone has lifted a finger since your father forced me here."
Belle recalled what Gaston had told her during the feast where they had first shared company, of the king's guard being needed during their country's recovery. "You underestimate the knights, Gaston told me-"
"Ah, yes, your intended! You never told me of your meeting."
"I've only seen him twice. Once at the feast and then he sought me out a few days ago and told me of his travels in the king's guard."
"And by the thrill in your voice I can tell you were ever so impressed with the tales of his adventures." He deadpanned.
"He is a good man, by all accounts. We may make a fine match." Belle said, and she was well aware that she was only parroting the words she was supposed to say.
She felt no ill will toward Gaston, nor did she feel discomfited in his company. He was pleasant enough, handsome enough and clever enough, she supposed...but would all of that be enough when the time came? She would do her duty - it was Gaston who had delivered the dagger to her father and she had been his reward for the bone-deep loyalty he had for his country. A lesser man would have fled years before, a lesser man would have taken the Dark One's power for himself.
Gaston had not. He was the savior of Avonlea.
Yes. I will do my duty.
Anything less would be a betrayal of the future her father was building.
"Perhaps. Fine pairings have come from such arrangements before." The Dark One told her absently as he fed the wheel another piece of straw.
The tiny room lapsed into a thoughtful silence, and Belle weighed the consequences of learning the answer to her question, of begging for a glimpse of his Sight.
She wrung her hands together before asking, "Can you see it? My future with him?"
Rumplestiltskin stopped the turn of his magical wheel and glared at her through the spokes. "Such a thing to ask, princess."
Belle dropped her eyes from his, feeling shame heat her cheeks. She shouldn't have asked, it was not her place to ask favors of the mage while he was being commanded to ensure her future. "I'm sorry, I only thought...well, you told Darla of her twins."
His expression softened when she looked at him again. He blinked and worked his jaw back and forth, careful of his words. "Yes, but you must understand - sometimes it is better not to know one's future. Just know, should I cast a vision and see any threat, I will protect you."
Belle nodded, trusting him.
So. After weeks of humiliating enslavement, Belle had done it. She had befriended the Dark One of legend, the master of all dark magic. The monster. The beast.
Her friend and by his own word, he was now her champion.
She smiled at him, hoping to convey her affection for him, her unending gratitude. "Thank you."
He cleared his throat and looked away, down to the turning of the wheel once again. "I can sense you have more questions for me. Things you've wanted to ask but didn't know how."
Belle took in a quick breath, unnerved by how he always seemed to know. Did she have questions for the Dark One? Oceans of them.
"Yes."
"You may ask."
Belle laughed and swiped a tear from her eye, suddenly giddy now with the freedom he'd granted her. "I have wanted to ask everything about you, Rumplestiltskin!"
"Everything? We would be in this tower for years."
"You won't tell me?"
"Between us, who is immortal here? I have all the time in the world. As I said, you may ask me."
"You may regret letting me ask my questions, I have a list." She told him, almost bouncing in her spot on the chest.
"I have a feeling I'm going to need this." From the kitchens below, he conjured a stein of beer for himself and took a deep sip, closing his eyes briefly in the relief of his thirst. He stood from the wheel and stretched, his joints popping obscenely - this he seemed to enjoy doing solely for how it disturbed her. "It's time for a break anyway. Shall we walk?"
Before Belle could answer him, her vision was obscured by deep violet smoke, and they were gone.
As quickly as it had come, the smoke cleared away and Belle found herself outside. Where, she could not say. She was standing in a field dotted with colorful wildflowers, with a woodline at her back, mountains were distant and there were low clouds on the horizon.
"Where am I?" She wondered aloud.
"Far from your castle, but still in country. It's just us here, Belle."
She turned and found Rumplestiltskin perched on a bounder, changed from what he had worn in the castle. His clothing was more relaxed and he was barefoot once more.
That he had transported them away from the castle was telling. How had he done it, how far could he go?
"I did not think you could leave."
"Your king never said I couldn't leave. The devil's in the details, and I can go where I please, but I am compelled to return the instant the dagger calls for me." He explained as he stood from the boulder and approached her.
"I see."
"You have questions for me, Belle. I will answer you while I can. It won't be long before I am called on to fill another chest." He urged her.
This odd pair, these bizarre companions fell into step together and began walking down the slope of the hill toward the woods.
"All right. My first question...and I hope I am not overstepping my bounds, but you once told me you walk the line between man and beast."
"That I did. Think of me as a share of both, if it should help you."
"If you are part beast, do you purr when you're happy, then?" She asked, thinking of the pet cats she'd seen in Arendelle.
The Dark One pulled at a loose thread on his shirt. "I wouldn't know, I haven't been happy in centuries."
With effort, Belle dismissed his comment in favor of her questions. What could cheer him would be discussed later. They were friends now, of a sort, and so she would find a way to brighten him.
"Do you scratch trees to keep your nails sharp?"
He flashed his fangs at her. "No, I sharpen them on the hides of nosy princesses."
Ignoring that, Belle moved on to ask after his eyes. "How well can you see in the dark?"
"Well enough to do what needs doing."
Again, an answer that was no real answer at all.
"Can you fly?"
As they walked, he picked up a stick and carried it with him as they walked on a footpath through the woods, using it to tap against tree trunks and dragging its tip through the dirt.
"Only when I charm myself a pair of wings or change into a bird."
"What's your favorite creature to turn into?"
"An eagle. Sometimes a horse."
Belle looked through the trees and saw that they were approaching a small lake and another thought occurred to her, "Can you breath under water?"
"Only when I become a sea creature." He couldn't even remember the last time he'd done so - the sea had belonged to that bastard pirate, and so put Rumplestiltskin off the water.
He hadn't thought of that pirate in decades. Hopefully he'd met his end by sailing straight into a school of hungry Krakken, and he smiled to himself at that lovely thought.
Rumplestiltskin cleared the trees and the princess followed only a few steps behind. He looked about, and there was no one. Good. He didn't want to see any wayward peasants, he wanted Belle to himself. Since ridding this place of the ogres, he had been met with such gratitude from those in the castle. The remaining nobles and higher knights had invited him to their table, shook his hand, clapped him on the back and insisted on presenting him with stein after stein of ale.
The ladies of the court were similar in their acceptance of him - he hadn't been invited to any sewing circles but he had been given wildflower leis, kisses to his cheeks and an invitation into more than one bed.
Ahem.
Even the children of the castle showed no shyness toward him, the wee scamps had made something of a game, following him about the courtyard and castle, only to run and hide whenever he turned around to look at them.
So like B-
"Why are your ears pointed?"
Belle's question pulled him out of his thoughts. "My-? Oh. I don't know. Why are your ears rounded at the top?"
The princess smirked, "Nice try but I'm the one asking the questions!"
Yes, Rumplestiltskin had been accepted amongst those in the castle, all save their fool king, but it was the princess who sought him out, the princess who thought of his treatment and the princess who had won his regard.
When the time came, Belle will curse herself for being so naive.
No one tamed the Dark One.
"Do your fangs have venom in them like a snake or spider?"
He rolled his eyes at that. "No. I'd have poisoned myself as many times as I've had to bite my tongue around your father."
Speaking of tongues...
"Why is your tongue forked?"
"It helps me to pronounce ancient, wicked words for my spells."
The wrath he had cast over the ogres had been powerful and he had needed words from a language this realm had long forgot.
Well.
He had reminded the land of those old, brutal words, speaking them for the first time in centuries.
"What does it feel like when you make magic?"
"It's always different and it depends on the spell I cast. Sometimes it feels warm, sometimes cold. It's difficult to describe but, I always feel something." He might tell her of the emotional component to his spells, of how it felt to have power surge through you, of the intoxicating pull to have your whim be made real...but their time here was very limited. He would need to take her with him again, perhaps the next time he ventured away...
"Do you have a tail?"
At that, he sputtered a laugh, "Look at what I'm wearing! If I had a tail, where would I keep it?"
Belle felt a blush heat in her cheeks at his invitation to look upon him. The brown leather clung tightly to his legs, unlike the draping, rather shapeless robes worn by the clerics and the looser fitting garments the nobles and knights wore in the castle. The Dark One showed his shape, lean and striking as it was, unconcerned by Avonlea's more conservative standards of dress.
Still, she had so many questions for him, about him, she determined to press on - there may not be another opportunity to speak with him like this.
"Can I ask after your skin?"
He raised a ridged brow at her. "You want to touch my scales, do you? Why? You have touched my hand many times."
Belle faltered, unsure of how to ask such a thing, if the skin of his body was scaled as well or if the scales gave way to a man's flesh. "Yes but..."
"Fine. Here, then." He waved his hand and both his loose linen shirt and the suede vest over it disappeared, leaving Belle standing with a shirtless man for the first time in her life.
Rumplestiltskin watched with some amusement as her eyes grew wide and her face grew red. He could sense her shock, a strange mix of arousal and trepidation. She wanted to run from him yet her feet refused to move. He took a step toward her and Belle's posture stiffened as she took in a quick breath, ready to bolt away.
She needn't worry. Rumplestiltskin would not harm her. Quite the opposite, in fact.
"Well, you wanted to see me."
His words startled her out of whatever trance had held her eyes to him, and Belle looked up to meet his amused gaze. Her mouth worked for a moment before any words were spoken.
"I - I...so I did." She muttered and took a step closer to him.
The skin of his chest and abdomen was similar to that of his face, neck and hands. A strange, shimmering texture that changed with his movements under the light. Dark green, gold, grey. His arms and shoulders held patterns of soft ridged scales that extended over part of his chest and covered his back, leaving the skin of his lower chest and abdomen smooth.
His scale patterns reminded her of an animal she'd only read about but had never seen for herself. "You are something like a crocodile."
In an instant, Rumplestiltskin's shirt and vest were back in place. "Yes. You would not be the first to say so." He hissed.
His moods were so changeable - would she ever know him?
"Please, help me to understand you. You have smooth scales like a crocodile or a serpent but your blood is as warm as my own. You have claws and fangs like a beast, but yet yo have reason and the voice of a man. You have intelligence and humor and you adorn yourself in clothing. Your eyes...you have the eyes of neither man nor dragon. Eyes I've never seen anywhere else."
Rumplestiltskin could understand her confusion over his appearance being at odds with itself, it was one of the reasons his castle's mirrors remained covered.
Really, he'd rather not talk at length over how he looked. He knew too well what the curse had done to him.
"Yes, yes, I am lovely and unique." He groused and began to walk the shore once more. She moved to follow him as he went on, "Our time here together grows short. If you have any other questions, now would be the time."
"Where do you get your clothes? The legends never mention the Dark One employs a tailor." Belle joked, but really, his clothing was unlike any she'd ever seen a man wear before...of course, Rumplestiltskin was more than a man.
"I don't. A hatter, on occasion, but any clothes I wear are of my own design." He told her, puffing his chest a bit at the boast.
"You have an eye for fashion." His clothing only enhanced the image built in legend, that of the most powerful demon sorcerer ever known. Still, she liked him better like this, casually dressed and barefoot - it seemed more natural for him, less like a costume meant to build intimidation against those foolish enough to challenge his power.
"An interest we share then, if your gown sketches are anything to go by." He said with a knowing smile.
At that, Belle raised her brows in alarm. "What? Where did you see my drawings?"
"While I was in your chambers, going through your things."
Indignant heat flooded her cheeks - for her privacy to be violated, for her diaries to be read, her undergarments to be seen-
"You dare!"
Rumplestiltskin raised his hands as she started toward him, sensing the hell she was set to unleash. Women could be so sweet in one moment and then furious in a flash whenever a man put his toe over the line.
"It was just a jest, princess!"
"Then how did you know about the gowns I draw?" Belle demanded of him with suspicious eyes.
"You left a drawing tucked between the pages of one of the books you brought to the courtyard some time ago." He explained, and conjured her sketch. He'd kept it in his dungeon cell, something pleasant to look at while he tried to fall asleep. "This one is lovely."
Belle well remembered that drawing, she'd been unable to find it anywhere and feared Kala might have scrapped it with the rest of the rubbish. Still, she dismissed it. "I...it was only a drawing. I could never commission such a dress."
"Why?"
"How can you ask that? The ogres are gone but Avonlea is still in ruins. This castle is the only refuge for miles, so many villages still stand empty, our people have scattered across the realm. It'd be a cruel kind of madness to think of a gown at a time like this." Belle said. Truly, she was ashamed of herself for drawing the gown, even thinking of something as useless as a dress seemed appallingly gluttonous.
For his part, the Dark One showed no concern. His eyes were fixed to her drawing, the lines of her ink pen on the rough parchment. Clearly, she'd done the best she could with what she had - he'd conjure her an art kit with fine paper and oil pastels for color. Hers was a talent that deserved to grow.
"I wouldn't worry after your people for long. Your father has a list of tasks as long as my arm to ensure your country rises within a year." He grumbled, looking to the horizon.
He was thinking of his home, no doubt, of what comforts he'd been torn from when her father summoned him to Avonlea.
But Rumpliestltskin was privy to so much more than Belle herself. Being so close to the king, he knew the plans in place for her country, he knew what she would face during her time as queen. If he was her friend, if he was capable of the trust needed to form a bond, then she had to trust him as well when she asked, "You can restore our people?"
"I cannot restore the dead, you know this. But I can help with the land, the defenses and the treasury. This...it's all a means to an end." He said, and threw a rock at the water. They watched it skip across the surface before sinking out of sight.
"I wish you had chosen to help us freely." She said, and not for the first time. She loathed his enslavement nearly as much as he did.
"That's just the thing, though. I wouldn't have chosen to help you. Why should I help anyone if they can do nothing for me?"
"Because helping people...there is no higher cause." Belle told him. She was parroting what she had been told as a child, however as she had grown into her role as princess, as she had seen the carnage in Avonlea and during her time in Arendelle, Belle had learned the truth of those words. From peasant to royal, the world could be a better place if only people would extend a hand to help others.
That her companion so openly disdained the idea of selflessness fed her doubts about him; here was a clever master of magic, centuries old, and yet he seemed unable or unwilling to consider acts of generosity.
Wise he was, but kind he was not.
"Spoken like a true politician! I almost believe you." He groused.
She crossed her arms, growing annoyed with him now. "I was being genuine."
"Aye, perhaps a part of you was, but you know how the game is played. You know it's the reason for your marriage, the subtle threats in your father's letters - 'Let it be known that the land of Avonlea has freed itself from the ogre threat by King Maurice, he who holds the Dark One in his command.' It's all a play for power, and me? I love power over all things."
"You love nothing?"
At that, Rumplestiltskin crossed his arms over his chest, almost hugging himself, and his voice was suddenly subdued. "There is nothing I love in this realm, nor in any other realm I've seen."
She looked at him, the sudden gravity that anchored him. What was it? What had she missed?
"That is...you must be very lonely."
He looked up and swallowed down those brief moments of melancholy, his voice and movements full of energy once more. "I was, until a nosy royal chose to inflict her bothersome little self into my time. Now I find I can never be left alone!"
"If you want me to go, you need only say the word." Belle told him, recognizing his tease.
Truly, he would have easily been able to avoid her company if she vexed him so.
The Dark One thought of her as a friend, he'd already proven as much and, the gods above help her, Belle called him her friend as well.
Rumplestiltskin straightened to his full height, affixing himself in a noble pose. "I am a gentleman, it'd be rude of me to dismiss a lady."
"You threaten the life of my father every time we meet."
"I never said I was perfect."
Despite herself, Belle barked out a laugh. The Dark One was just too clever.
He looked out to the horizon where the sun was making a swift descent. Evening would be upon them soon and with it, another command performance forced upon him during the feast.
The Dark One hungered for nothing but the blood of King Maurice.
"Come close, Belle. It's time we return to the castle." Rumplestiltskin extended his hand to her, having grown accustomed to her touch now.
Without hesitation, Belle placed her hand in his.