XI
"Rum! No!" Belle screamed, struggling against the arm wound about her waist like an iron band. "Let me go, Gaz! I have to … I have to see."
"Carefully, Belle. We don't need you tumbling nose over toes after them," he warned, setting her gently on her feet and dismounting behind her.
She dropped to her knees, her chest throbbing painfully with the need for air. It felt as if a mighty fist were squeezing her lungs, shock and fear for her Rumpel replacing everything but the need to get to him with all due haste. She peered over the edge of the ravine, the landscape seemingly carved by the hands of the gods. Steeply it plunged over the side of the mountain, the grassy slope littered with jagged rocks and tall pines scattered about. White caps dotted the river below and there no more than twenty yards from the treacherous waters lay Lucern and Rumpelstiltskin, still and unmoving.
"There! Gaz, look!" she cried, pointing to where she'd seen them. "Oh, gods! Is that blood?"
"How can you even tell?" he asked incredulously, lying over on his stomach to get a better look and squinting his dark eyes where she pointed. But she wasn't paying attention. She had already regained her feet and moved towards her mare and the saddlebags resting near its flanks. "What are you doing?"
"I have rope and a pair of trousers I can change into. I won't get far in this skirt, now will I?" she snapped in an impatient tone.
"You're not going down there! Your father would have my head."
"Well, we can't very well leave them down there!"
He laid a restraining hand on her arm, swinging her around to face him. "Belle, you're not thinking."
"No, I wasn't," she hissed, brushing angrily at the tears streaming down her ashen cheeks. "I should have heeded my instincts which told me not to listen to my brother when he wanted to come here!"
"Belle, we've been here hundreds of time without incident. How were we supposed to know this would happen? It's no one's fault, love. But right now, we have to keep a clear head if we're going to help them." He whistled to his knights standing restlessly in the mouth of the clearing at the end of the path. Carefully they made their way back to them with the children.
"What happened, Gaston?" Thorrin asked, keeping one arm around Baelfire as he tried to climb out of the saddle to get to Belle.
"There was a snake," she offered lamely, holding her arms out for her ward, cradling him close.
"Papa?" he whimpered, staring over the side of the ravine over her shoulder. "Where's Papa?!"
"He's going to be alright, Bae. Gaston and Merrick will get him out … Lucern too," she assured him, drying his tears.
"We're going to need more than what we have available here, princess," Merrick said gravely, taking stock of what they had in their saddlebags.
Gaston's brows drew together in a dark frown. "More rope, stretchers, a wagon to transport them back to the palace … bandages. Belle, you and Thorrin should go back and secure what we need, along with more of our men. Gawain and Anders at the very least."
"They won't be able to bring the wagon past the last fork. It simply won't fit along the path," she shot back quickly, mentally calculating.
"The children need to go back, m'lady," Thorrin added, worried the little ones would see things not fit for their eyes.
"Belle, he's right. You can always come back with our men, but Thorrin needs to go with the children. They can't stay here," Gaston said, trying to get her to see reason.
"I can't leave Rum. I can't."
"You must. Just for a bit."
It was Baelfire who changed her mind. "Mama?"
Belle gasped, never having thought to hear that particular moniker from the boy's lips. "Oh, darling."
"Mama, are we going to get help for Papa?" he asked, his sable eyes large and liquid and too big for his little face, translucent with fear for his father.
She nodded, choking back a sob. "Yes, Bae, we're going to help Papa … I promise. He's going to be fine and back home with us before you know it." Thorrin took him from her and set him on the back of her mare, leaving her to mount behind him. "Gaston, I won't be long. Please … please watch over them until I return. I've waited so long to find him … I can't lose him now."
He laid his hand over hers where it rested on the pommel of her saddle. "You have my word, Belle. No more harm will come to him. I will find a way to get them out."
*.*.*
Rumpelstiltskin choked back a sob as pain shot through his temple, the pounding of dwarven pick axes chipping away at his skull. It radiated through his body to settle into his ankle, the old wound sparking to life with new levels of agony to batter at his body. "Fucking hell!" he cursed, his hands trembling as they searched out his injuries.
Aside from the cut at his temple – no doubt caused by one or more of the rocks protruding from the grassy slope – his left shoulder was bruised, his hip was ablaze, his ribs were making it hard for him to breathe, and his right ankle was seemingly snapped in two. He fought to draw breath through the pain as he struggled his way into a sitting position. Gods! He hadn't hurt like this since the war. His limp and the pain brought on by in-climate weather were a small price to pay to be able to raise his son. How was he supposed to do that now? Fuck!
His heart stuttered as he took in his surroundings. Where was his Belle? Had she fallen with them? It had happened so quickly, he couldn't be certain. One moment he'd been atop that bloody mare and the next he and the prince had been tumbling arse over end down the slope. The prince!
Lucern was lying on his stomach along the pebbled shore, his boots nearly brushing the edge of the water several yards away. Rumpelstiltskin cursed again as he tried to move, inadvertently putting pressure on his injury. He wasn't going to be of any help to himself or anyone else if he couldn't stabilize his leg. Pushing his ruined waistcoat aside, he tore long strips from the hem of his shirt and bound them around his boot, using the leather footwear as added support. They'd probably have to cut it from him later when it began to swell, but for now it would do. A muscle worked in his jaw as he clenched his teeth against the pain, holding his leg at an awkward angle as he scooted across the mish mash of grass, rocks and tree debris until he could reach the prince's side. He took his first easy breath as he felt a steady pulse beneath the man's jaw.
Rumpelstiltskin unclasped the emerald broach from Lucern's left shoulder and removed his torn and ragged cloak, replacing it with his own leather coat. The fine wool of the cloak wouldn't make the best bandages, but it would do in a pinch … and if they were ever in a 'pinch' … well, this was it, he thought ruefully. Not the best circumstances to get to know one's future brother – in – law by any means. He set it aside and did a quick sweep of the royal's body, not at all happy with what he found.
The prince had a superficial cut to his scalp near his hairline which had bled profusely, but was nothing to be overly concerned with. However, the long gash in Lucern's right leg which reached nearly from mid-thigh to ankle and the odd angle of his left shoulder did not bode well. Thankfully, the satchel he carried everywhere with him – containing a small water skin, some thread, fine needles and one of his reading primers – hadn't come free from his belt on the mad dash down the mountain.
Removing the knife from his left boot, he set about cutting away the prince's pants leg so he could clean and bandage the wound. It would upset Belle greatly should Lucern's leg become infected and put the limb in danger.
The man cried out as the cool water splashed against his torn flesh, his azure eyes pinning Rumpelstiltskin with an accusatory stare. "What happened?" he asked, swinging his head around to take in their surroundings.
The spinner sighed and turned back to his work. "You might as well relax, highness. We're going to be stuck here for a while as neither of us are in any shape to climb out under our own steam."
"Belle? Where's my sister?" he asked, shoving himself into a sitting position as he searched for her with his worried gaze.
"The princess doesn't appear to have fallen with us. For that we can be thankful." His gaze flickered up to the top of the ravine from where they'd plummeted. "I hope she had enough sense to take the boys back to the palace. She isn't very level-headed when someone she cares about has been hurt."
Lucern opened his mouth to protest and then sighed and snapped it shut. "You're right. She'll look at this incident as something she can't control. She doesn't like situations where she isn't in control. Frankly, I'm surprised she didn't come rappelling down the side of the mountain to rescue us."
Rumpelstiltskin chuckled softly as he set the canteen aside and reached for one of the makeshift bandages. "I'd be willing to bet she tried, but Gaston wouldn't put her in danger, I don't think … at least I hope not."
"He won't let her get into harm's way," he said, pushing a long hiss of air through his teeth as the man tied off the bandage and started with another one. "Where'd you learn to do this, anyway … field medicine?"
Rum snorted. "This is keeping you from bleeding to death before help arrives. I'm no field medic." He soaked a cloth with water from the canteen and nodded to Lucern's bloody face. "Besides, what I do … I do it for Belle. She's saved me over and over again from the first moment I set eyes on her and I'll not let someone she cares about die when I can help."
Lucern winced as he watched his sister's servant sit back and adjust the bandage on his own leg. "What happened to you?"
He shrugged and raked a hand through his shaggy brown hair, coming away with leaves and more debris and dirt than he wanted to contemplate. "It broke on the way down. It's an old injury, and really I would've been surprised if it hadn't been damaged in some way."
Lucern used the cloth to clean his face, feeling a little more clear-headed when he looked back at his companion. "How'd it happen? Were you in the war? Belle said she found you near the Frontlands, and everyone knows of the duke's war with the ogres."
"You'll forgive me if I'm not so forthcoming with that story. I haven't even shared that one with Belle yet."
"Why not? There's no shame in being injured in battle." Rumpelstiltskin flushed scarlet and turned in on himself, putting his back to the prince. "Oh … was it before you had a chance to fight? Nevermind, it's none of my business." He leaned back on his elbows and grinned cheekily at the spinner. "So how did you meet my sister?"
Rumpel's gaze searched out the top of the ravine, taking note of the knights milling about as they formulated a plan to get them out. Apparently, it would still be a good while. "She didn't tell you how we met?" he asked curiously.
"She did. I'd just like a different point of view, I suppose. Two sides to every coin, after all."
*.*.*
A vase of flowers crashed to the marble floor in the entryway as Belle barreled through the ornate doors, Baelfire clutched tightly to her chest as he clung to her. The maid apologized in a halting litany of 'I'm sorry', but the princess ignored her. Thorrin had gone immediately to the barracks which housed Belle's personal guard and Merrick had taken the boy's horses to the stables to turn them over to a groom and gather more supplies. She hurried the children towards the kitchen, hoping Mrs. Potts would be able to calm them. She nearly ran into her father as he came out of his study.
"Belle, darling, whatever is the matter?" he asked, resting his hands firmly on her shoulders. "Where is Rumpelbumpkin?"
"Papa!" she cried in exasperation, brushing at the tears which had begun to stream over her cheeks once more.
Baelfire giggled. "It's Rumpelstiltskin, majesty," he chided laughingly.
"I know that lad, but I thought you might've needed a laugh. Was I right?" Maurice asked, taking the boy into his arms and holding him comfortingly. "Now tell me what's happened."
The princess sniffed into the lace handkerchief her father passed to her. "It was awful, Papa," she began, encouraged when he followed her down the long corridor to the kitchen. "We went up to the ruins – yes! I know we aren't supposed to go there, but we did so don't scold just yet – and there was a snake on the path, and it frightened the horses and Rum isn't that great in the saddle, to be honest – and our mare reared back into Lucern's stallion and he and Rum – ravine – and oh, gods! Papa, they could be hurt!"
"Belle, darling, please … you're upsetting the children. Calm yourself."
She choked back a sob and carded her fingers through Bae's unruly mop of curls. "They'll be fine, Bae. I'm sorry; I'm just worried."
"Is mista Rumpel coming back?" Abel Myerson asked, twisting his little fingers in the hem of his shirt.
The king took him by the hand and led him into the warm cavernous kitchen. "They'll be home before you know it. Why don't we see what Mrs. Potts has for us this afternoon? You boys must be starving after all the excitement."
Belle leaned up to kiss her father's ruddy cheek. "Thank you, Papa! Lord Myerson will be collecting Abel at three," she called over her shoulder as she ran out of the room.
Mrs. Potts set them down at her workstation and gave them each a ham sandwich and a peach tart hot from the oven. "Hopefully, you two will have sense enough not to go off on dangerous quests where you've got no business being in the first place," she said firmly, giving them each a wizened look.
The king chuckled. "They're boys, Agatha. It's all part of growing."
She arched one silver brow at him and shook her spoon. "I'll remember you said that, sire."
*.*.*
"…God's beard! What kind of woman was this Milah person?" the prince balked incredulously. "She literally sold you?"
Rumpelstiltskin shrugged, his head bobbing where it rested on his hand. He flopped over onto his back and stared up at the fluffy white clouds, trying his best to ignore the agony in his boot. "It was an arranged marriage … one neither of us were well suited for. She longed for adventure, and I just wanted my son … to raise him to the best of my ability. I don't think she really thought she'd lose me in that game." He sighed, pushing the memory aside.
"And she just sold your wee son? What kind of mother sells her own child?"
"I try to tell myself that she sold Baelfire so my boy could remain with me, but I think she wanted her freedom more," Rumpelstiltskin said sadly, his voice low and filled with pain for what his son must have thought of his mother's actions. "In the six weeks we've been with Belle, she's treated him more as her son than Milah ever did."
Lucern stared hard at the spinner, a pang of remorse tightening his chest. As horrible as he'd been to the man that morning, he'd still helped him in his hour of need and patched him up until aid could be had. If Lyssa had heard even a few of the things he'd said on the terrace … he shuddered. "Um … Rum?"
"Yes, highness?"
"I'd like to … I'd like to apologize for this morning."
"There's no need for apologies, highness –"
Lucern shook his head. "No, there is. Belle is my twin, and I have this bond with her. I have this insane worry something is going to happen to her, something to take her away from me. I'm not going to be able to protect her and she'll leave me just as our mother did. It doesn't excuse my horrible behavior, but I hope it helps you understand."
Rumpelstiltskin turned over on his side once more and stared, dumbfounded, at the royal. "Have you spoken to her about this?"
"No. She'll think I'm overreacting, I'm sure."
"You should talk to her."
"Maybe." He rolled over onto his back to relieve some of the pressure on his wounds. "You think maybe you and I might be able to start over? Perhaps even be friends? For Belle's sake? I'm pompous and a royal pain in the ass, but really I'm not that terrible." He lifted his head to see Rumpelstiltskin chuckling silently. "Come on, spinner … It's worth a try, right?"
"I'd love nothing more than to make Belle happy, dearie … so how about you stop trying to sabotage our courtship and I'll be your new best friend."
"Deal."
*.*.*
Belle was waiting at the top of the ravine with a water skin and a sharp word as her brother was hauled off the steep slope. Gaston and Gawain had taken the first stretcher when they'd rappelled down to the river below and it was slow going pulling it back up, their prince tied securely to it. "You big lummox! Don't ever scare me like that again! What's wrong with you that you can't sit your bloody horse?!" she railed at him, dousing him with the water skin.
"Bloody fuck, Bluebelle! Are you trying to drown me now? I haven't suffered enough?" he yelled right back.
Belle promptly burst into tears and threw her arms around his head, burying her face against his thick neck. "I'm sorry, Luc," she sobbed. "I'm so glad you're ok … are you ok? Please tell me you're ok, brother."
He stroked her back through her heavy cloak, shushing her softly. "I'm alright, Bluebelle. Hush, love, it's alright."
She smacked him in the center of his chest, her wails not lessening in volume. "Then what's wrong with your leg?!"
"Save me from overemotional women!" he groaned. "Gaz!"
"Lummox …" Belle sniffed, shoving gently at his shoulder. She left him there, waiting to be carried to the wagon and hurried over to her knights as they worked to lift the stretcher bearing Rumpelstiltskin up onto the gravel path. His features were drawn and waxy, the lines of pain around his mouth and eyes standing out in stark relief. "Oh, Rum …"
Belle fell across his chest, her arms clasping him tightly to her as she wept. "Shh, my love, it's ok … we're ok," he breathed, whatever energy which had remained now gone. "Where … where's Bae?"
"He's fine, darling … he was with Papa and Mrs. Potts when I left the palace." She brushed a damp lock of his hair off his dirt streaked brow. "He's anxious for you to come home."
"I'm anxious to be home, my Belle."
"I was so afraid I'd lost you," she whispered tremulously, pressing a kiss to his lips.
He mustered up a weak smile for her. "I will never willingly leave you, sweetheart."
She clung to his hand as Merrick and Gaston carried him to the wagon, Anders giving her a lift up into the bed of the conveyance so she could sit between Lucern and Rumpelstiltskin. Gaston – comfortably settled atop Storm – kept pace with the slow vehicle, reining in the great stallion when he wanted his master to give him his head. "What happened to my Rumpel, Gaz?" she asked, nodding to his wrapped ankle.
"Lucern said the spinner broke it on his way down the mountain. He's fortunate it wasn't his neck," the knight said with a firm shake of his head. "He was very lucky, Belle."
The prince watched his sister fawn over her sleeping spinner, her fingers carding gently through his hair as his head rested on her lap. "I was the lucky one, sister dear. If he hadn't come tumbling down the mountain with me, I may well have bled out before help could arrive."
"My Rumpel is a good man, Luc." Her lips quirked into a rueful smile, sorry it had taken such an accident for her brother to see what kind of man her heart had chosen. "Are you now going to stop protesting our courtship so vehemently?"
He groaned as the wagon hit a particularly deep rut in the road, his wounds paining him. "Now where would be the fun in that?"
"Lucern …" she said warningly.
He cast her a grin filled with devilment and closed his eyes against the late afternoon sun.
*.*.*
Mrs. Potts hovered at Rumpelstiltskin's bedside like a mother dragon with a new clutch of eggs, watching the palace physician through narrowed eyes. He'd just left the prince's bedchamber, having stitched his leg and applied the medicinal poultices which would speed his healing. He was now resting comfortably under the watchful eye of Princess Lyssa. The little man gulped as the king stepped over to the bed next to the princess.
Rumpelstiltskin winced as Merrick and Gaston cut away the strips of wool bound tightly about the leather of his boot before tackling his footwear with a vengeance. His one small consolation since being carried to his bedchamber was Belle's comforting arm about his shoulders. He could weather any storm with her at his side.
"Gaz, that bloody boot is attached to his leg. Can't you be a bit … I dunno … gentler?" she scolded.
"Belle, darling," her father chided, "he's a knight. Knights don't do 'gentle'.
Mrs. Potts poured some of the aromatic tea from the fine china pot into a cup and passed it to him. "Poor, lad. Here, drink this poppy tea. It will make what is to come a little bit easier to bear."
"I don't know if now's such a good time for a nap," Rumpelstiltskin grumbled, but one look at Belle's worried features and he quickly tipped the cup up to his lips. Their little accident had caused his princess enough undue stress. He wouldn't be responsible for more. "Where's Baelfire?" he asked when the cup was empty.
"Thorrin has him thoroughly occupied, son," Maurice murmured from where he paced anxiously at the foot of the bed. "Something about the traveling minstrel show in town. Said he was going to take Bae and a few of his friends. Once the lad found out you were on your way home and none the worse for wear … so to speak … he was more than gleeful to go." The king didn't mention that it would do the boy no good to hear his father curse and spit when the physician set his leg.
Mrs. Potts took a firm hold of Belle's elbow when Gaston sliced through the leather of Rumpelstiltskin's trouser leg. "Come along, dear. Nothing for you to see here," the woman said with a meaningful look.
"I'm not leaving Rumpel," she protested, digging in her heels as she jerked her arm away. "I've cared for our soldiers in the infirmary before. I'm not going to swoon at the first sign of a bruise or a wee bit of blood."
"I don't think that's what …" the king hedged. "Y'know, nevermind. Let's get on with this, shall we?" He knew how to pick his battles with his headstrong daughter and her delicate sensibilities just didn't rate that high on the list right now.
Mrs. Potts whipped up a blanket from the back of the settee and plopped it down across Rumpelstiltskin's lap – grumbling the whole while about heathen children with no sense of propriety – before she collected the growing pile of tattered cloth which had once been his clothing and hurried from the room. Gaston snorted as he stowed his dagger back into his boot and leaned against the bedpost.
"Alright, let's have a look," the doctor said, reaching for the first purpling bruises on the spinner's shoulder.
Belle joined her father in his pacing as the little man gave Rumpelstiltskin a thorough examination, not returning to his side until it was time to see to his ankle. "Well, what've you learned so far?" she snapped impatiently.
"Calm down, highness. Your servant will mend. His shoulder is severely bruised, several ribs sustained damage and there's a laceration on his temple which is already healing." He sighed, gesturing to the odd angle at which Rumpel's ankle lay upon the pillows which elevated it. "His left arm will need to remain in a sling for a week at the least, his ribs will have to be bound … but I fear this is what will give us the most problems."
Rum's fingers twisted in the wool blanket covering his lap. "It's … it's been broken before. S-Surely you can set it? It will heal again, yeah?"
The doctor cringed at the white lines of scar tissue standing out so prominently on his pale flesh. "There's just so much damage already … there's no guarantee you'll heal properly."
"That isn't what I wish to hear, Dr. Cassel," Belle hissed, wringing her hands. "You haven't even tried to set the bone yet, so how can you make such a statement?"
"Princess, I'm not trying to discourage you, dear. I wouldn't do that, but I can see the extensive damage this joint has suffered in the past. I'm simply trying to prepare you. I will do everything I can to see your servant back on his feet."
"Belle …" Rumpelstiltskin breathed, reaching for her hand.
"Hush now, love," she whispered softly, sitting beside him on the edge of the mattress and pressing her brow to his. "It's alright. Doc's going to patch you up and you're going to be fine. Worry not."
"I'm so sorry," he replied, fighting back the sting of tears. How could they plan their future together if he was rendered lamer than he'd been before? He couldn't allow her to tie herself to a cripple.
She smiled tremulously and poured him another cup of the poppy tea, hoping it would ease some of his suffering. "I mean it, Rum. You're going to be fine."
He nodded, quietly sipping the brew as the doctor laid out materials he'd need to wrap his ankle once the bone was set. A strong sense of déjà vu assailed him, but whereas before he'd been surrounded by scorn, ridicule and hate, this time he was amidst people who cared for him. Especially his little princess. The tea helped to calm him, and he was pleasantly relaxed by the time Belle slipped behind his right shoulder and wrapped her arm around his chest, Gaston taking up the same position behind his injured left. His brawn would be able to keep him immobile and prevent further injury.
The spinner grunted as Merrick laid down across his legs, effectively trapping him in place. Gaston cut a strip of leather from his wide belt and gave it to Rumpel. "Here … bite down on this and save your tongue, man."
"It's ok, Rum, I've got you. It will be over quickly, my love," Belle reassured him, tucking his head beneath her chin as she held tightly to him. "Just hold on to me."
His screams could surely be heard all the way to the bailey, and Belle – for one – was thankful Baelfire was nowhere close by to hear evidence of his father's pain. Belle sobbed right along with him, her heart rending in two to see her love so broken. He wept against her neck for what seemed like an eternity before his leg was lowered back onto the pillows and a series of compression wraps and a sturdy splint were secured around his ankle.
"I think he's passed out … finally," Gaston huffed wearily. "Your spinner is stronger than he looks, Bluebelle."
"For his sake, I hope he sleeps for a while," Maurice added.
"Well, he's going to be in pain for quite a while, but from what I've seen, he's lived with it since his first injury. He won't be using that fancy walking stick of his for a while, I'm afraid. Crutches to start," Cassel instructed, gathering up his things and stowing them away in his bag. He set a drawstring pouch of fine powder on the night table. "That will help with the worst of it, princess. Just try not to give it to him too often. If the swelling becomes too bad, soak it in a cold bath and if you find yourself in need … please, don't hesitate to call on me."
"Thank you, Dr. Cassel. For Rumpel and for Lucern."
"It was my pleasure, highness."
Maurice shooed the knights from the room before pulling Belle up from the bed and into his comforting embrace, his large hands rubbing soothing circles over her back. "Oh, my girl, what have you gotten yourself into, eh? It'll be alright."
"I worry for him, Papa," she whispered brokenly, burrowing against her father's chest.
"He's a good man, Belle … otherwise you wouldn't love him so. He'll heal, daughter. He'll heal and the two of you will have a long and happy future together. Hopefully with a passel of grandchildren for me to spoil absolutely rotten."
Belle laughed – truly laughed – for the first time since the accident. "Oh, Papa, you have a one-track mind."
"I'll send Gerta to you with a supper tray. Try to rest as much as you can."
"I will … goodnight."
A/N: Poor woobie and his busted ankle. You think he'll heal ok? Let's hope. Next week: Bae goes for a sleepover and Rumpel tells Belle a bit of his past that he's not too proud of. Really hope you enjoyed the chapter, my darlings. See you next week :D
Huge buckets of heart shaped chocolates for my darling reviewers: Wondermorena, scorpion22, CLKit, MyraValhallah, iamstephanieb, xXSedationXx, Grace5231973, lovepeacebubble121x, Solo13, Twyla Mercedes, Deb and jeananne1964.