II
Rumpelstiltskin clutched Baelfire's hand desperately as he hurried to his home, almost fearful his son would be ripped away from him. The knight's squire matched his pace as he walked at his side. He was still having difficulty believing his treacherous wife had literally gambled him away and then sold their only child for even more gold. He knew it had been a long time that she'd been unhappy, but to stoop to such a level to be rid of him? It didn't surprise him that she would go to any lengths she felt necessary to be rid of him – frankly, he was surprised she hadn't tried to murder him in his sleep before now – but to sell her own child?
Baelfire tugged at his father's hand. "Papa, I'm afraid. What's going to happen to us?" the boy whispered fearfully.
Rumpelstiltskin lifted his small body in his arms and held him close as he continued on, whispering soothing promises against his ear to calm him. "I'm sure it's going to be fine, Bae. You'll be with me and you know I'll never let any harm come to you. We'll figure this out, my boy."
Thorrin looked about the humble cottage, taking up a relaxed stance near the door to assure the spinner and his son didn't flee. Not that he would get far with his lame ankle, but desperate men were prone to desperate acts. "You need help with your things?" he asked, smiling slightly to reassure the man.
"Bae, go on and fill this with things you want to bring with you," Rumpelstiltskin said, setting the task for his son. Baelfire skipped off to the small chest which housed his clothes and toys and began filling the sack his father had given him. He turned to the squire and shook his head. "No, thank you. It should only take a short time to gather …" his voice trailed away as he moved off to collect his own things.
He hadn't accumulated much over the years, and what he did have was well worn. He only hoped the noblewoman wouldn't hold his meager possessions against him. His eyes darted longingly to the spinning wheel in the far corner of the room. It had belonged to his Aunt Agnes, passing to him when she'd died. A pang of sadness for the relic made his heart clench.
He startled as the squire placed his hand on his shoulder. "You don't have to leave it. We have more than enough room in the wagon for your wheel."
Rumpelstiltskin stared at him hopefully. "You're sure?"
"Yes. The princess will want you to be happy in your service to her. She won't want you to leave behind something which means much to you."
"Princess?!" Bae squealed excitedly. "The lady is a princess? Does she live in a castle?"
Thorrin smiled, taken in by the boy's childish delight. "Indeed, young master, she is."
Baelfire turned his wide sable gaze to his father. "Is Mama coming with us, Papa?"
The spinner blanched, the color leeching from his face as he searched his mind for an answer which wouldn't devastate his son. Thorrin leaned down and took the sack from Baelfire, distracting him. "Are you ready? We should return to the inn. I'm sure Lady Belle will want to speak with your papa about what is expected of him, yeah?"
Baelfire bounded out the door, one of his wooden soldiers clasped tightly in his hand. Rumpelstiltskin followed, Thorrin bringing up the rear as they made their way back down the lane. Already, the tale of Milah's duplicity had spread and he refused to listen to the loud whispers which met his ears. Baelfire was oblivious to it all in his excitement, and that was enough to keep his own panic at bay. Shame over his wife's actions weighed heavily upon him, but shame at his own helplessness was heavier.
Milah was waiting for them in the common room of the tavern when they returned, the dark knight who served as the princess's personal guard standing at her side to assure the peace. Baelfire ran to greet his mother, hugging her about the waist. "Mama, we're going to live in a castle," he squealed happily as he looked up into her sad blue eyes. "Aren't you excited?"
She looked over at her husband, but he refused to meet her gaze. Instead she dropped to her knees before her son. "I won't be going with you, Bae. This is an adventure for you and your papa."
His large eyes welled with tears, but he refused to let them spill over. His mama didn't like tears. "B-But why? Don't you want to be my mama anymore?" he sniffed.
"Of course, I do," she insisted, tugging him into her arms. "I love you, Bae, but I have to do what is best for you. This new position for your papa will expose you to the right people and you won't have to worry ever again about being cold or hungry. You will have warm clothes and hearty meals, a chance to learn and grow into a fine man. This is for the best."
Thorrin glanced at Gaston whose jaw was set in stone. He apparently knew exactly what had gone on in his absence, and he had to quell the disappointment of having to wait until later to find out. "Thorrin, why don't you see the boy to the room he will share with you and his father," the knight said, knowing it wouldn't be quite as pleasant to see the spinner say goodbye to his selfish wife.
Baelfire kissed his mother's cheek and slipped his hand into Thorrin's glancing up at his father as he was led away. Rumpelstiltskin gnashed his teeth, a muscle ticking in his jaw as he finally looked at Milah. His eyes were pinpricks of ice as he stared. "I suppose you're happy now, are you? That you've broken our son's heart?"
She glared at him not bothering to hide her hatred for him. "Do you really think this was easy for me?! He's my son, Rumpel. Regardless of what you think, I love him."
"Yes, it's just me you despise," he hissed bitterly.
She sneered down her nose at him. "You can't really blame me for wanting to be free of the village coward. Just be thankful I didn't take Baelfire from you. Despite your failings, you are the better parent." Noticing the steely-eyed glare from the knight standing behind her husband, she gathered her bearing and prepared to take her leave. "Don't worry, Rumpel. I'm sure you'll be happy with the lady. Hopefully, you won't be a disappointment to her as well."
"And what will you do when you run out of money or an easy mark? Sooner or later you'll have to account for your greed."
She lifted her chin haughtily and smiled. "I always land on my feet, dearie." And with that she was gone. He only prayed never to see her again. He'd never be able to forgive her, nor did he want to.
A heavy hand came down on his shoulder, drawing him out of the haze of misery which fogged his mind. "Come with me," Gaston ordered, directing him towards the stairs leading to the rooms above. "Rumpelstiltskin, right?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"Your name? It's Rumpelstiltskin?"
The spinner looked at the knight querulously and nodded.
"And your boy is …"
"Baelfire."
"Wonderful. The two of you will be bunking with my squire," Gaston informed him. "Don't get too comfortable though. We'll be leaving at first light. Lady Belle isn't impressed with your village and is ready to put it behind us."
"I can't say as I blame her." Rumpelstiltskin stepped out onto the landing and grunted as his foot turned the wrong way, forcing him to stumble as he righted himself. The knight knew whatever pride the spinner possessed, he wouldn't appreciate his assistance. He waited for a moment for the man to catch his bearings before leading him down the hall to a door at the end.
Gaston couldn't agree more, but he held his tongue on the matter. He paused with his hand on the latch. "The princess wishes to go over the contract she forged with your wife. When you're done, your room is number eight," he said, pointing down the hallway to the door in question. "Thorrin will watch after your boy until your meeting is concluded, so don't fear for him." He offered the spinner a reassuring smile and gave him a gentle nudge in his back to get him moving.
Rumpelstiltskin felt panic rising in his chest. He was in the princess's private room and he didn't know whether to bow, kneel or anything else etiquette might require. Should he keep his eyes lowered to the floor or look her in the eye? What the hell had Milah gotten him into? He didn't have long to ponder his actions as the princess stepped out from behind the screen swathed in a navy robe in the softest velvet he'd ever seen. His mouth went dry and he had no choice but to lower his gaze, not wanting to be caught ogling her in her state of undress.
"Hello, Rumpelstiltskin," she greeted him warmly, beckoning him to join her at the small table where a tea service awaited her. "Won't you please join me for a cup of tea?"
He peeked up at her from beneath the fringe of his hair which hung low over his brow. "I-I-I c-couldn't, m'lady," he stammered, his face flushing with nervousness.
"Please, sit," she commanded, giving him no choice in the matter. She poured him a cup of tea from the little earthenware pot, watching him fidget with his ever-present staff. He was a wreck, poor thing, she thought, her ire rising once more over the state of affairs his treacherous wife had left him in. "Rumpelstiltskin, how do you take your tea?"
"I …" The Adam 's apple bobbed convulsively in his throat as he swallowed. "I … don't really take anything in it, m'lady. Sugar is a luxury and …"
Belle plunked two of the brown sugar cubes into his cup and added a twist of lemon, preparing his cup as she would her own. "There you are," she smiled, handing it to him. Next, she chose several of the little sandwiches the proprietor had sent up with the tray and arranged them on a saucer, passing it to him before he could protest.
"You shouldn't be serving me, m'lady." He sipped from his cup and then stared into it as if it held the secrets of the universe, still refusing to meet her eyes. "I am your slave. It is I who should be seeing to your needs."
Belle frowned, wondering to what depths of his soul the spinner had been broken. He was damaged, and not just from what she could see of the injury he lived with every day. No, his scars ran deep, inflicted by more than just the wife who had carelessly tossed him aside. She could see she was going to have her work cut out with him. "Rumpel … do you mind if I call you Rumpel? Your name is quite the mouthful and a bit formal. I don't want us to be formal."
He nodded and reached for one of the dainty little sandwiches. He'd much prefer to occupy his mouth before he said the wrong thing.
"Lovely!" she beamed. She reached for the rolled-up parchment on the table, unfurling it and laying it out flat for his perusal. "Now, this is the contract I drew up, if you'd like to read it. I will also need you to sign it … what's wrong?"
She hadn't thought it possible for him to withdraw into himself more than he already had, but apparently, she was mistaken as his cheeks flamed with shame. "I can't read," he murmured. "I-I never learned, and I can barely eke out a legible signature."
"It's no matter." She moved her chair closer to his so she could go over the contract with him. "We'll add that to the list of things you'll need once we reach Avonlea. You and Baelfire can learn together."
His head shot up and for the first time he met her gaze for more than a second or two. "How did you know Bae couldn't read?"
"Oh, he was brought to me before he retired." She gestured to her open trunk at the foot of the bed to where a small stack of books could be seen inside. "He commented on my books and mentioned that he couldn't read though he wished someday to learn. He's quite a charming young man," she smiled fondly, already enamored with the boy. "I look forward to getting to know him better."
"You would educate your slaves, m'lady?" he asked, astonished by her generosity.
Belle frowned at his terminology. It was the second time he'd referred to himself as a slave and she couldn't allow his misconceptions to continue. "Rumpel, you're not my slave." She pointed to the top of the contract and drew his attention to it. "Let us go over what is outlined and see if I can help you to understand."
She took a sip of her tea before she began. "I won't bore you with the legal vernacular, but this first paragraph states that your wife wagered you and lost. Any claim she had on you is now forfeit. Your marriage is no longer valid, and she is to avoid all further contact with you in the future."
He simply nodded, but his jaw was tight with suppressed anger. She could only hope it wasn't directed at her. After what that woman had done, she didn't want her anywhere near Rumpelstiltskin where she could continue to spew her poison.
"The next paragraph states that you are to be my servant for five years. This set amount of time given to me will cover the gold I awarded to your former wife. If at such time you wish to leave my service after your tenure, you will be provided with a home of your own anywhere you wish in the kingdom, as well as a small stipend until such time as you can provide for yourself through your chosen trade."
Rumpelstiltskin stared down at the words on the parchment, wishing he could read them for himself because what he was hearing was simply too good to be true.
"Your duties will pertain strictly to me, Rumpel, which means you will serve only me. You will not be asked to cater to anyone else in my father's court." She didn't mention that she didn't trust anyone else not to abuse him. Courtly intrigue was a great part of her existence and she didn't want the gentle spinner exposed to their deceptions and trickery. She wanted to bring at least a little happiness to his life now that she'd freed him from his miserable wife. "Now as to your son …"
She reached out and took the tea cup from his hands as they began to tremble, preventing the hot liquid from sloshing over the sides and burning him. "Hey, it's alright," she crooned softly, holding his work worn hands in hers. He started at the touch, willing himself not to pull away from her. She nibbled her lower lip contemplatively as she felt a tingle in her fingertips from the contact. A warm fluttery sensation settled in her stomach, leaving her breathless with wonder as she pondered the strange connection she felt with this man. She had to force herself to return to the business at hand. "Baelfire was sold to me outright, Rumpel. Do you understand what that means?"
Tears welled up in his warm brown eyes and he closed them before he embarrassed himself in front of the princess. "I-It means he now belongs to you to do as you wish. I have no say –"
"That's true, but I cannot see myself taking him from you. He needs you just as much as you need him." She smiled gently, her fingertips coming to rest beneath his chin to tilt his head up to meet her gaze once more. "He will never leave your side, Rumpelstiltskin. He will grow up to be a fine man, educated and supplied with every resource available which I can provide. He will never want for anything. Baelfire will be my ward, if you'll allow it."
A choked sob escaped his throat before he could stop it. "I don't deserve your graciousness, princess. I –"
"I have a feeling the two of you deserve a great deal more. From what I have learned about you, I fear your lives have been lacking anything remotely close to happiness. I'm hoping to change that."
"I can never hope to repay you," he said in an agonized whisper.
"Serve me well, Rumpel. That's all I ask." She drew an ink pot and quill from the wooden secretary on the table and offered it to him. "Are these terms agreeable to you?"
He didn't hesitate to take the quill from her, scrawling his name sloppily across the bottom beneath hers and Milah's. He would be a fool to reject her offer, and Rumpelstiltskin was no fool. He would accept for no other reason than the benefit of his son, even if she'd told him he'd be scrubbing latrines for the next decade. Nothing mattered more to him than his boy.
Belle blew onto the parchment, her breath drying the ink. She beamed at him as she rolled it up and tucked it away in her secretary. "Now then, I will let you retire. I'm sure after such a trying evening you will wish to see to your son and get some rest."
"M'lady, I don't know how to thank –"
"Oh posh. Think nothing of it," she smiled gently, rising to lead him to the door. "Now, enjoy your rest."
Rumpelstiltskin leaned heavily on his staff as he limped towards the door Gaston had pointed out earlier, his mind whirling as he thought of all the princess had told him. How had his life changed so drastically on the turn of a card? Baelfire tackled him the moment he entered the room, a bundle of boundless energy.
"Papa! Did you talk to Lady Belle? Did she tell you about Avonlea? We're going to live in a castle and she's going to teach me to read and –"
"Easy, son," he admonished softly. "And yes, I spoke with her."
"I'm so excited, Papa. I cannot wait to begin our journey tomorrow!" he gushed excitedly.
Rumpelstiltskin sent a pained look at the chuckling squire, who was already laid out upon one of the three beds in the room. He shooed Baelfire to a bed and peeled the socks from his feet as he tucked him in. "Settle down now, son. We've a big day tomorrow and if you don't get some sleep, you'll be a little beast."
The boy grinned unrepentantly, even as his eyes drooped heavily. "I love you, Papa," he said around a huge yawn.
The spinner smiled indulgently at his son. "I love you, too, Bae. Sleep well, m'boy." He made his way to his own bed, the mattress lumpy, but more comfortable than the one he'd slept on for many a year. Thorrin extinguished the lamps and all fell silent in the darkened room, but it was a long time before sleep found him.
*.*.*
The spinner was jolted awake, his heart pounding frantically in his thin chest as Gaston marched down the hallway outside his room and began knocking on their doors to rouse his men. Thorrin groaned and pulled his pillow over his head to block out the sound. Rumpelstiltskin propped himself up on his elbows as he willed his breathing back to normal, staring at the ebony haired knight when he stuck his head in the door, a rakish grin on his face.
"G'mornin', sunshine," he chortled, leaning against the doorframe. "Best get a move on, spinner. The princess will be wanting her breakfast while the rest of us prepare for our departure."
Rumpelstiltskin pulled himself upright and reached for his boots, hastily pulling them on before reaching for his staff. "What are my duties? She didn't mention them last night," he said, flustered as he moved towards the door.
"You need to fetch her breakfast," Gaston repeated. "Make certain it includes tea. Then you will need to make sure all of her belongings are packed and ready when Gwain comes for her trunk."
Thorrin groaned as he dragged himself out of bed and began dressing. "And don't worry about the young master here. I'll make sure he's dressed and fed before we take your belongings down to the coach. Fitzpatrick already secured your wheel last night, so don't fret that it'll be left behind."
"Oh, and a word to the wise," Gaston whispered conspiratorially. "Our princess is a veritable beast in the morning before she has her tea. Don't let anything she might say upset you."
Rumpelstiltskin frowned darkly at the knight, unable to believe the sweet lady who'd become his savior had a disagreeable bone in her body.
Gaston roared with laughter. "You don't believe me. You'll see soon enough. Now let's get moving!"
Ten minutes later, Rumpelstiltskin knocked on the princess's door with the tip of his staff, her breakfast tray balanced precariously on his other arm. There was a bit of grumbling from the other side of the door before her voice called out for him to enter. He set his staff against the wall and opened the door, the dishes rattling as he balanced enough to maneuver inside. He had to force himself not to look away from her as he set the tray down on the table and moved to fluff the pillows behind her. His cheeks flushed bright pink as his fingers grazed her shoulder where her gown had slipped off in her sleep.
"G-Good morning, m'lady," he greeted her as he set the tray on her lap and poured her tea.
"Rumpel," she acknowledged with a yawn. Her eyes strayed to the window and she glowered at the darkness outside. "Bloody hell, it's not even light outside," she grumbled. She grimaced at the porridge and toast on the tray, but knew she had to eat. It wouldn't do for her to go hungry until they could stop for luncheon. Her eyes followed her new servant as he brushed out her traveling costume and draped it over the screen. He looked so unsure of himself. She would have to go over his duties with him once they were safely ensconced in the coach and on their way. "Don't worry about the trunk for now. Fetch me some warm water for washing first." She tried not to sound like the shrew she knew herself to be in the mornings, but still he lit out of the room as if she were going to beat him if he didn't move fast enough.
Oh, yes. She could see he was going to be a lot of work, but she was more than capable of putting his mind at ease. He returned sooner than she thought and felt it was extraordinary he could move so swiftly with his injury. He proved himself able to care for her and had her things removed from the room by her knights before she emerged, dressed for the day, from behind the screen.
"Stand up straight, Rumpel. I don't want you to act as if I'm going to hit you with my parasol," she said, arching a brow at him. "I see Gaz has been spreading tales this morning, the lummox. You have nothing to fear from me, I promise."
He followed in her wake as she swept out of the room and down the stairs. He ignored the looks of pity from the proprietor and the one barmaid who was on duty. He was used to scorn, but he drew the line at pity. It was no different when he stepped outside the tavern and several of the villagers milled about in the dim light of dawn on their way to fetch water from the well in the square.
"Chin up, Rumpel," Belle admonished gently. "Baelfire!"
The boy ran to her side, leaving Thorrin to finish stowing items away in his saddle bags. "Yes, m'lady?" he asked, his eyes alight with barely suppressed excitement.
"How are you this morning? Did you sleep well?" she asked, smiling down at him as her fingers ruffled his unruly locks.
"Yes, m'lady, very well."
"Would you like to ride in the coach with us, or with Thorrin on his steed?"
His eyes widened. "I can ride with Thorrin?" he asked in awe, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. He turned to his father. "Can I, Papa? Please, please, please!"
Of course, the spinner was helpless in the face of his son's pleading. "If it's alright with him, I suppose."
Baelfire hugged his father, bowed to the princess and tore off across the courtyard to where the squire awaited him. Belle grinned, delighted with the child. She moved to the coach and Rumpelstiltskin offered his hand to assist her up the steps. He stared indecisively at the open door for a moment too long, because Belle leaned forward and looked askance of him. "Aren't you coming?"
He smiled hesitantly at her as he placed his foot on the step and took one last look at the village he'd always called home. He settled on the seat opposite her and the coach jerked into motion. This small village on the southern edge of the Frontlands had been home to him all his life. He'd suffered ridicule and scorn, heartache and fear and a myriad of other emotions. It had not been kind to him. Now, he took his last glimpse of it through the window, wondering if he'd ever see it again. In two days' time, they would reach Avonlea where a whole new future awaited him … an uncertain future which hinted at a promise of happiness.
The spinner closed his eyes and swallowed hard against the knot of fear in his throat, praying he wouldn't disappoint the angel sitting across from him who'd come to save him. He hoped the gods were listening when he asked for their blessing, because he'd rather die than disappoint his new mistress. He was tired of being afraid. It was time to be brave.
A/N: I dunno … do you think Rumpel's new situation is too good to be true? I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Please don't hesitate to let me know what you think. See you next week :D
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