A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing lovelies :3
~8~8~
Cora's castle was a massive fortress of smooth obsidian that jutted out of the forest land like some monstrous horned head over the thick canopy of the accursed trees. All was dwarfed in comparison to her lavish stronghold. Taken from the king who originally scorned her for her low caste, she ruled the keep with an iron fist though everyone there was too rule had either perished or fled from the black talons of her abysmal wickedness.
Fanged spires jutted out from the ebony stone like the treacherous points on a demonic crown. The walls about her keep were a high, black barricade to repel the heartiest of foolish foemen. A large gate made of black rods gutted out in an arch of the wall like some voiceless, mouth wrenched in a scream shut out any intruders. Over time she had added and twisted the keep into some dark aberration of the castles former humble glory.
Much like her heart, the place was a thing of darkness and mutated hatred.
Crimson stained glass sat in every prominent window making the light that bore down upon them into a bloody hue that painted the inside with vile, ichorous illumination. The broad ramparts and turrets were draped intermittently with morbid banners of carrion birds, Cora's chosen pennants. The backdrop of the fabric was velveteen black and the image upon the crest was of a blacker raven, dark as the blackest night, with ruby eyes and a silver hooked beak ready to rend flesh.
The icon looked eerily alive. Fluttering in the vile winds, the images seemed that at any moment the birds stitched upon the pennants would fly off in a horrid flock of cawing death.
Though miles of overgrown, tangled and treacherous forest surrounded the ominous keep, nothing grew in the vicinity of the ominous stronghold. Old gnarled, blackened trees stood where once orange groves and lotus blossoms that bloomed richly every year were once trimmed and kept. The once tall and sturdy woods seemed akin to haggard old men bent double with the weight of age. What grass there was was brown and limpid around the base of trees and old out buildings falling into decay. Black rock mostly replaced what greenery there once had been.
"With an inviting place like this, it's a mystery why you don't get many guests." Rumpelstiltskin chirped in a happy trill as the witch flicked her hand and opened the large, maw like gates to her home.
The thick rods of black steel from the portcullis of the gate shot up, leaving them entry to the castle grounds and the keep itself. Only the desperate of desperate would dare near her grand castle. The walls alone were enough to make a man rethink what was so bad in his life. Her stronghold was enough to make the heartiest knight shirk his courage and slink away for life at some other daring feat.
"True, guests are sparse, so I do so hope you'll make yourself comfortable." Cora welcomed lightly, taking no offense to his all too true words. Rarely those who entered the maw of her keep ever came out to brave the perilous forest once more.
The corridors of her keep were arching vaults in a labyrinthine maze. Crimson runners of finest make, snaked about the halls like streams of blood upon the gray, cold stone. Torches sputtered and flickered in their stone scones delivering paltry light to the eternal blackness.
As she walked inside the long dark halls, she flicked her lace gloved hand to open the doors to the main hall in her castle. The room was wide and gilt, having not truly changed from the time of the king who bargained his son away for a wealthy bride.
"There is everything you need here." She explained to the silent Dark One slowly inspecting his surroundings. "My apothecary is yours, the dungeon, tower, the spell books -."
"And your bed?" He interrupted softly. Stealing up to her, he whirled the sorceress in his arms to face him. There wasn't much she could do for him in the ways of magic, but to have her darkness mingled with his…. Yes that was worth putting up with anything about her.
A wicked smile curved upon her vermilion mouth. "Of course, Rumpel. I thought that went without saying." Disentangling herself from his arms as through she were smoke he tried to clutch, she allotted him a wider smile. "Everything else is free to your use, all save the magical wards I've placed around certain places. Per our agreement I hope you don't take to meddle in my affairs."
"Not unless they're interesting." The fiend jested lightly but fully serious. Of course perhaps he would tamper, but only if her plots were worth tampering with. If she had her own schemes to ruin a kingdom, those things interested him none at all.
Anger over his aloofness flashed like a brand of heat in her bright, cruel eyes before simmering. Culling her emotions she sighed, her lips falling into an all-suffering smirk. "That's all there is to know. The castle has already made arrangement for your stay." She snapped her painted fingers as though forgetting something. "And one last thing. Should you need anything don not hesitate to call my slave."
Curiosity mildly painted his features. "You've a servant in a magical castle?" The fiend queried, all jest gone from his impish timbre.
"More a symbol really, but yes." She shrugged carelessly though her eyes glowed with wicked delight. "Slave!" The witch raised her voice with imperious elegance.
A door creaked on the side of the wide room even as her voice died away into the lurking shadows. Turning his attention to the activity, the Dark One pushed away the thoughts he dabbled with from Cora's words.
A young woman, for she was in no way a trifling girl, humbly walked forward, her head bowed subserviently. A dirty golden dress that was once fine donned her slender, unkempt body. Her brown honey hair was kept back though looked ratty and matted with dirt and oil from long days at merciless toil.
She tilted her head up faintly as though too curious to bear her enthralled burden, giving the Dark One a glimpse of her features. Her face was clean and her eyes glowed a sapphire blue; the hue of the loveliest gem.
He only saw them for a moment before she cast her eyes down, hiding her face from his curious inspection.
Scuttling forward, the slave girl stood before the powerful sorcerers. She seemed small and insignificant sized up against Cora's wicked grandeur.
"You called mistress?" She asked penitently, her hands clasped before her.
Cora proffered her hand to the Dark One. "This is Rumpelstiltskin. You will serve him as you serve me. He is your master now."
Her cerulean eyes flickered to him for but a moment once more before her eyes fell back to her feet. The girl bobbed her head in an understanding nod but said nothing more.
"Well?" Cora asked mildly, a brow arched austerely.
"Mistress?" The captive's voice broached hesitatingly with confusion.
Before the girl could move, the witch struck out like a venomous viper. Her delicate hand slapped against the side of the slaves head with a sharp sting. "Tea, stupid." She replied calmly, giving no hint of anger of impatience. "Go fetch us tea before I lose my good temper."
"Right away mistress." The servant girl backed away and scurried off hurriedly leaving the two sorcerers alone. Hands clutching the edges of her tattered dress from impeding her she made all haste away.
Ebon eyes following the girl, the Dark One stared until she disappeared that way she had come. "Where did you find her?" He inquired, intrigued. The girl did not seem some sort of mindless peasant or ensorcelled golem. Her words told of some well bred woman, and even with her head bowed she walked with nobility's grace.
"A deal I made." Cora sighed unconcernedly. "She was once a princess whose kingdom was in peril. She made a deal to be my slave to save her people."
Laughter hummed lightly from his throat. "Still terrorizing the nobility, Dearie?" A cruel smile twitched upon his mouth.
"My hobby." She chuckled pleasantly. Her black gloved fingers glided along his shoulders seductively. "One of many." Purred the witch.
Before the Dark One could reply in kind, the girl stole back in. A silver tray lay in her hands laden with the amenities for any lavish tea time. Ceramic blue and white bowls of sugar and cream rattled alongside two dainty cups and a matching kettle. Steam rose from the curved spout, sending the pleasant armor of chamomile drifting through the cold air.
Her fingers curled about the handles in a vice as she nervously watched the tray and her footing. Now above any time was not a moment for a wave of clumsiness to overtake her feet and hands.
Taking a seat in a high backed chair, the sorceress waved a languid hand to her captive. "Serve slave." She ordered casually.
Nodding obediently, her eyes still tenuously upon the gilded tray, the young woman began to pour the fragrant tea. Wisps of sinuous gray steam rose from the delicate painted cup as she poured carefully. Doctoring the tea to Cora's liking, she nervously handed over the drink.
For a brief moment she seemed not to breathe as the witch took a testing sip. Anxiousness forged upon her beautiful face in lines of barely suppressed terror. Cora was just so about things, if she didn't do them right that always meant more pain.
A silent breath of relief fled the girl's lips as the witch put down her cup and motioned for her to serve the Dark One. The tea was adequate at least.
Striding over to the other end of the long table, the beauty tremulously poured another cup. Her hands shook faintly but she clung to the small porcelain for dear life.
"Everything you do for me you shall do for our new houseguest." Cora explained and took another sip of tea. "Is there anything you'd like to add, Rumpel, some special chore that needs to be done?"
Steepling his gray-gold talons he stared at Cora. Mischief gleamed in his smooth sable eyes. "I'd like fresh straw delivered for my spinning wheel." He mentioned and flicked his eyes to the slave. Casually he added. "And do you think she can skin the children I hunt for their pelts?"
What!
A sharp crack from something breaking echoed guiltily near the slave girl. Frightened disbelief mingled with untold, disgusted horror danced upon her lovely face.
Skin little ones? Did he or Cora actually expect her to perform such a horrendous act for their dark magic's?
"That was a quip." He waggled a black nailed finger at her chidingly for believing him. "Not serious."
Relief shred the clouds of horror from her troubled visage as a giggle fled his mouth. Her heart began to beat normally again with the thought that his words were only a morbid joke to off kilter her. Now, the girl knew imperatively, she had bigger problems.
Kneeling nervously, she gently scooped up the tea cup. Brown liquid, still giving off steam, pooled on the wood floor and around one leg of the table in a puddle of warm brew. Looking at the mess, she prayed that was all the damage. But then, she knew, there had been a noise, a rather unpleasant sound that sent her heart racing once more. Somewhere in the back of her mind even as her brave heart stopped towards his words she remembered a distinct sound of porcelain cracking on wood.
With hands trembling she picked up the cup. Her heart dropped into the icy pit of her empty stomach as she turned the trinket around. A hair thin crack, veined against the side of the cup leading a trail to the gilded rim where a singular triangular piece was chipped off.
"What's the damage slave?" Cora added an extra lump of sugar to her tea, her tone bored.
Fingers roving the edged to the cup, the girl lifted the vessels nervously. "I'm so sorry, mistress but the cups chipped. It just a little thing, not really too bad. You can hardly see it." She cringed with every word as though expecting a blow to come down upon her defenseless head.
Cora had a way of making her pay, even if her trouble came by an accident. The cruel sorceress left no room for clemency or pity, especially to her once noble bred slave.
"Very clumsy of you slave." The witch remarked neatly, her hands folded upon the table.
She bobbed her head, not daring to protest. "Yes mistress, very clumsy of me."
"Still, I'm in a good mood and you didn't drop anything on a carpet." She spoke from the gilded rim of her cup. "Clean this mess up and toss that cup away, then back to your duties."
"Actually, I still want tea." The Dark One interjected in a soft croon.
Cora waved her hand inconsequently. "I can make you another."
"No trouble Cora." He nimbly slipped the cup out of the beauty's upraised hands. A spark jolted against his skin as his fingers brushed against hers. Thinking nothing of the errant jump, he let the cup swing by the handle on the tip of his index finger. A driblet of brown tea splashed upon the wooden table but nothing more.
He sniggered impishly. "The cup is still useful. Just a little cracked. I think it fits me perfectly."
"Have your oddities then Rumpel dear." Cora sighed insouciantly. Her eyes turned to the girl as she took another nip of tea. "Well clean up this mess slave then back to your duties."
The girl wiped her hands on her tattered golden dress. "Yes mistress." She bobbed a smart curtsey.
Helping himself to tea, the Dark One admired the chipped cup; a small novelty ofwelcome to the house of Cora. Taking a sip of his tea, the fiend slowly slipped into idle conversation with the sly witch, all the while his mind played with thoughts about the mysterious slave girl.
~8~8~
Darkness lorded over Cora's castle with a firm, evil hand of vile wretchedness. The moon never seemed to shine down upon the accursed keep, always keeping its pale face from gazing over the wickedness upon the forest. The trees once poor gnarled skeletons of former days, transformed into malformed demons stalking the land with knifelike claws and knobby roots to trip those unaware.
In the lonesome distance, a forlorn beast howled desperately to a moon that was not there. When the wind was still and the night was quiet, the palace reeked of dismay and death. The woods bordered her keep creaked with agony and somber plaintive rage.
Bright guttering torches sat in sconces inside the castle but little else to alleviate the dark blotted upon the stones. The haggard flames leapt and bit and clawed out viscously in their holders casting odd angular glows amongst the deepening shadows prowling the places no light could ever pierce.
Haunted crypts were more inviting than Cora's castle at night.
No wonder indeed Cora rarely had visitors, Rumpelstiltskin thought to himself. Sitting at his newly moved wheel, the fiend allowed the night time of the castle to seep into his very being. His wheel now took up a corner of Cora's main hall. In truth he would have moved the ancient wheel to a different location, but the main hall held the biggest fireplace, a mainstay of light for the cold, unwelcoming stronghold.
Had he been his old, cowardly spinner self he would have never thought of entering such a wretched place. Better to die than call such a stone mausoleum home. But now, the darkness welcomed him. The accursed showed him respect and feared him. Out of all the terrors of her land, he was the worst.
The thought gave him a hint of cocky satisfaction as he stared at the wheel. Yes, there was a certain pride for being the most feared thing in all the realms.
At the thought stirred his mind, a door on the other end of the room creaked open gently. The slave girl drifted inside, a delicate shadow in the castle. A tawny wicker basket swung on one arm laden with fresh golden straw.
"About time you got back with my straw." He replied in an annoyed huff.
The woman bobbed a deferent bow. "My apologies master, I had no notion where the mistress was going to keep the straw." She tenuously placed the basket by the wheel.
"Eh." He waved a hand brusquely at her anxious figure shooing her away. She wasn't worth the trouble to snap at her lateness. "Make sure it doesn't happen again."
"Yes master." She nodded rapidly and took a step back.
Stuffing the straw into the bronze pipe where it belonged for him to begin, he raised a hand. "But, since it did happen, something must be done."
From the side of his eye he saw the woman stiffen. Fear danced plainly in her gem-like eyes but she suppressed the terror within. Thoughts of pain sparkled so clearly in her depths he could read her misgivings as though she were a tome.
Scaled claws on the wheel, he turned the wood to a creaky start. "I'm always interested in new people. They're like a book I have yet to pry open and tear away their secrets. How long has Cora kept you enthralled?"
"Five years now, master." She replied dutifully to his inquiry. Pain crackled in her voice but she managed to subdue her agony.
He nodded faintly, absorbing the information. "Quite a deal you must have struck. What bargain did you hammer out with Cora?"
"I am her slave forever." She replied softly. Staring hard at her fingers the beauty fiddled with her calloused digits to fight away a blistering wave of dudgeon. "This was the only way."
The monster scoffed, his lips twisted into a cruel grin. "There is never such a thing." He replied. Fingers pinched he pulled forth the golden thread of his work. Usually he focused only on the gold but the brief conversation held a faint bit of interest.
"As you say master." She replied, not daring to disagree with the Dark One, but her tone declared otherwise. Hands folded together in front of her she bowed her head. "May I be dismissed then?"
"One more question." He remarked softly. Staring at the golden thread pooling like a thin coiled snake at his feet, he kept his tone light and uncaring. "What is you name slave?"
"Master?" Her words dripped with confusion. Consternation crinkled her brows into thin wrinkles.
The beast snorted irksomely. "A name. You have one don't you? Or did your parents fail to provide you with a title?"
"Oh. My name is Belle." She replied tentatively as though tasting the name upon her lips for the first time in a very long time. Since she arrived Cora just called her slave. The cruel name was the only one she'd heard in five long years.
Belle. The Dark One mused the pretty moniker over in his mind. Belle. Her name was simple, pretty, and even in her less that neat state fitted her. He had once made a jab at Cora's name. To him her name always sounded of something breaking or an expensive glass bibelot cracking. But Belle….
Shaking the thought from his mind, the fiend stared once more at the hypnotizing wheel. "Good enough. I have no more need of your aid. You may leave now slave."
A strange look donned upon Belle's features, but she nodded.
Why he had asked her her name, she wondered tiredly as she wove her way down to her dungeon. She was no one special now, so why care what she was called?
Upstairs, far parted from the slave girl by thick gray stones, the Dark One spun vapidly at his wheel. His pinched fingers tugged at the gold as the other turned the spokes. His midnight eyes looked absently at the wheel as his body did the work on instinct.
"Belle." He muttered in a deathly whisper. "Belle."