"Wild magic." Rumpelstiltskin remarked lazily unimpressed as he tenuously held up the brown leather purse Cora had collected the night before. His wiry, black nailed claws tingled with a strange, prickling aura as he held the bag upon the tip of his index finger by the gray hemp draw strings.
Blood and gruesome gore from some surprised druid and his ilk stained the bag in dark crimson splotches upon the hide telling of the silent horror his lover had committed to gain the magic. She had not been merciful in her slaughtering and thieving of the errant power, that was undeniably certain. Knowing Cora she had probably gained much needed enjoyment from tearing out druid hearts and tossing them into their own ceremonial fires and burning their ancient groves to smoldering ash and smoky char.
Leaning his skull against the wickedly carved headboard crafted to look like spiral horns jutting to the rafters, the Dark One stretched out to the power prickling from the unicorn hide. Laying on the messy bed of the dark witch, the fiend inspected the unicorn hide bag filled with pilfered druidic power. Thin silver sheets covered most of his sinewy figure though there was no need for he was fully dressed beneath. Lounging away in sated repose, his obsidian orbs focused entirely on the swirling magic caught by the cunning Cora.
Power radiated in thorny shoots of errant magic against his darker essence like prickly ivy trying to find purchase upon some stone cottage wall. Something in the bag wished to be free and roam, as the name justly proclaimed, wildly.
"Nasty stuff this wild power." He pulled a face of disgust towards the bag.
Wild magic was as the name proclaimed was a magic that was vastly unpredictable by nature. Only the learned, sagely druids, more aged and ancient than even he, knew how to wield the magic with any refined, assured skill and cajole the fierce, untamed power to bend to their will aged will.
Harnessing the volatile magic was not the problem but the magic had an innate will of its own. A little magic for a drought could end up a country swathed in murky marsh if one let the druidic power go awry. Hardly any tried to master the magic and hardly any survived to tell the tales of accidents.
Straightening a green gown broidered with curling scrolls of gold upon her sensuous form, the witch smiled into the glass of the ostentatious vanity before her. The vanity was carved of smooth, dark wood that was nearly as black as stone. Horns carved ingeniously from the foreign timber wound up to the top of the three portion mirror and razor claws curled about molded dark worlds at the feet. The panels that held the trio of panes looked akin to demons leathery wings about to enfold her in a lovers clutch.
Here Cora sat every morning to put upon her face for the world. She kept herself always in a certain fashion, hiding away the scars of ages past and the errors of dark magic upon her pale skin that would never vanish.
"Potent, Rumpel." The cunning witch corrected simply whilst she delicately dabbed a pallid makeup upon her cheeks. Little puffs of white clay rose in the air like errant gusts of fog in the mirror. She seemed akin to some angry dragon billowing a faint line of smoke rather than a seductress putting on her face.
Keeping his eyes on the magically sewn pouch in front of his ebony gaze, the fiend let the unpleasant pulse of power flow through him. The thorns of the magic latched on to his dark power but withered upon touch. Wild magic in particular was no ally of dark either.
Pushing away the barbaric magic he blockaded his power from entangling with the other power grasping fingers. "What form?" He inquired in a thoughtful drawl and swung the sack lightly back and forth like some odd pendulum of fate.
Cora straightened an errant vine of dark hair from her pallid visage in the three way mirror. "Look and see." Her eyes darted to his reflection in the mirror before returning back to her paints and perfumes.
Carefully the Dark One pulled back the draw strings. Tenuously putting a few fingers inside he drew back a host of dark, moist clumps. Small straggly roots of white stuck out in every wayward direction from the black, dirty lumps jumbled together. The rich scent of damp, loamy earth from a nights rain in the forest filled his nostrils.
Fear and raging anger shivered tremulously in his heart with the rich smell. Memories assailed him from all sides from the simple fragrance that uprooted so many suppressed flashes of remembrance. The perfume was to close to that night in the forest when he tried to escape with his son. To close to the earthly scent that filled his lungs when he bent to kiss the knights filthy boots. The earth reminded him of the worm he had once been.
A grimace slashed across his once curious scaled features as he rubbed his dismally talons together. The dirt had a moist, chalky feel. "Earth." He remarked in disgust and let the clumps roll from the pads of his fingers back awkwardly bag into the bag. "Dangerous to combine with the rest." The fiend tugged the sack closed. Wiping his fingers on his brown, silken vest whilst casting away his thoughts he leaned his head back to the dark head board once more enjoying the site of his lover preparing for another day.
"That's why preparing the magic be your job, Rumpel." Cora remarked with mock cheerfulness. A pale smirk as false as her painted face spread across her features from ear to ear.
Surprise burst inside the Dark One in a lance of sudden revelation. His ebony eyes widened in his awe. She meant for him to amalgamate the magic? "Oh ho, and when did we decide this?" He sat upright upon the goose down mattress. The bed rustled and creaked with age as he shot up, his back resting against the headboard instead of only his skull.
The witch flashed him a deviously charming grin. "You are the Dark One." She replied as though the answer was obvious. "You are the most powerful sorcerer in all the realms."
"You forget, Dearie, wild magic cannot be handled alone; not even by me." The fiend growled irksomely at her blatant gall. To suppose that he would willingly take such risk, bowing to her request like a stupid serf was infuriating! Did she know what she was asking? Did she want him to lose a hand to a thorny vine with a mind of to latch upon him or worse?
"This magic is extremely dangerous." The magical monster shot back sourly, his words sullen. Just thinking of conjoining all the magic put him ill at ease. He might have been the Dark One but he was no fool to not know his limitations.
Normally an ancient, withered druid who beckoned such magic had helpers lingering upon their every sagacious word. Devotees who were honored to put their lives in peril or the rare few with the gift always drifted close by ready to aid in any way. Only those who were the highest skilled in the particular art of wild magic or had a death wish preformed such rituals alone.
Scoffing laughter blurted incredulously from her faded pink lips. Her mouth curled into a grin of disdain. "Since when is the Dark One worried about danger?" She queried and perched a plucked brow.
"Since you asked me to combine the earth, flame, wind, and waves of wild magic." He parried tartly. Though he tried to stave of the thought, a part of his heart twisted. Dark claws wrenched mercilessly at his dead husk shredding his soul like old parchment. Did she even care what she implored him to tend to was perilous?
Agitated, a sigh huffed from the witch's frowning lips. Did the fool have to be so difficult? "If you truly do need a helper employ the slave girl then." She added impatiently like a woman trying to appease a whining child.
The fiend shook his head, his straggly dirty brown hair fanning into his features. The thought was beyond ludicrous. Only the learned could hope to aid in such tenuous rituals. "Belle will not know where to begin the rituals. She would get herself killed."
"Belle?" The primping witch echoed the name as though the moniker was a far off memory niggling some remembrance in the back of her skull. She plucked and patted lightly at her locks as her mind tried to connect the name. Belle…. Where had she heard that name before? Belle? Belle?
Almost abruptly the thought came to her. Heaving her shoulders in a faint shrug she attended to another part of her toilet, "Oh yes her name. I'm terribly sorry, but she's the only help you will be getting I'm afraid. With all the magic I've stolen the power is none to happy for me to wield in the current state. That magic clung close to the druids that ask of all things to wield such power. Wild magic won't accept the process if I aid in any means. Unless you can convince some wayward druid to help, I'm afraid you're stuck with her. Besides." She added as she vapidly ran her coral lipstick along her plush mouth. "If she is engulfed in flames it will be of no great consequence, and somehow you must get the fifth component of the magic anyway so she cures two problems."
The fiends offered a reconciliatory shrug. Belle was of course merely property, but to have her dissimilated or engulfed by ravenous, errant magic seemed a waste. A dreadful, terrible waste. His black heart clenched at the dour thought, despite himself believing otherwise. No, he would not like at all if the magic claimed her. But what other choice did they have?
Rising stately from her purple padded, golden seat, the witch turned to her lover still perched between the fine silver silk and downy pillows. By their lovemaking when the sun fully rose, she was surprised he wasn't still some boneless mass just trying to breath and recover his strength. "Shall I see you down at breakfast?" She inquired almost regally, her words demure behind a coy smile.
Magic filled the room in a strong breeze of black power even as the words left her mouth. Dark damson clouds veiled the Dark One in a shroud then shredded revealing a finely dressed and ever energetic fiend. A high pitch cackle fell through his smiling lips as he swept the cruel Cora into his strong, wiry arms.
On instinct she fell into him, letting his magic and sinew support her in his clutches that would never drop her. Her eyes found his black orbs, filled with nothing but ardor and anger for her. Such a black, furious almost loathing love they had, but there was no other, and none other she wanted more than he .
"My dear I would follow you anywhere." He lavished hard kisses heatedly against the creamy skin of her neck. His gray-gold skin came back tainted with her powder, but he care not. Though he could care less how she painted herself in the morn, he would much more see her with bruises from her kisses along her pulse point that any makeup spotting her cheeks.
Shivers slithered down Cora's rigid spine with each passionate kiss. Her spell clever hands ran against his shoulders and down the blades to hold him close as her head pulled back giving him leave to plunder her throat. After what they had been through night she could not help but believe him.
~8~8~
Soft bread, eggs, and a few crystallized oranges, Belle listed off the solid, tasty meal in her mind as she set the main hall table in the daily routine. All of Cora's favorites.
The long oaken table was arrayed neatly with everything in the proper place for her master and more importantly her mistress.
Warm blackberry tea steeped in the blue and white ceramic kettle awaiting use just as Cora preferred with her favorite meal. The fragrant, milky gray steam lingered like morning fog on the tree tops about the oaken table as though to wish Belle luck. She'd even taken out the blackberry preserve if Cora desired some.
With the spread served out, all she could hope was to buffer the rage that would come barreling down upon her in furious pain. Perhaps Cora's temper would be disinclined to punish her too harshly with her stomach filled of her favorite meal. Perhaps the food would buy her a few more minutes free of torment.
A worried frown tilted Belle's lips at the vastly unpleasant thought of Cora's fury. Her bored cruelty wasn't so terrible for she would quickly lose interest in the torment she doled out to her helpless servant, but for all of Cora's vast evil, when she was angry her malice was intensified by a thousand. The fires of hell seemed preferable than to her blazing wrath.
Fear curled like a python about Belle's brave heart at the thought and squeezed the courage from her chest. Sharp shards of ice roiled in her belly, inducing pangs of anxiousness that thrilled through her form.
Troubled by the thoughts, the beauty instinctively began to wring her hands to keep them from trembling. She bit her bottom warily, her eyes darting about for lack of anything better to do.
When Cora found out that she had been reading when she was away.…
A violent, frigid shiver trailed Belle's spine as she firmly tossed away the contemplation. The thought barely bore thinking about.
Surely the Dark One had told her cruel mistress what she'd been up to whilst she was ambling about for whatever plot suited her vile needs. Even now she supposed they were both conspiring on what cruel punishment to allot her. Perhaps she would have to muck out the stable around the castles back or perhaps simply beat her as Cora had done on a few occasions.
No thought was pleasant but a little ray of hope still glimmered in the recesses of her flagged, tremulous mind awash with pitch black horror. What if the Dark One had not told her evil mistress? What if he had taken pity to her plight and allowed the perilous secret to stay stashed away in the crevice of her heart?
But no, the beauty scolded herself roundly for the foolish thought of his supposed kindness, he had departed on ill terms with her. She had refused to give up what she believed in her heart, even now, she would not. There had been no pity in his glassy, dark orbs in the night and surely he would not pity her to his lover of whom he found so much in common.
"You've been busy this morning slave." Cora commented carelessly as she and the Dark One entered the main hall in a spurt of black tinged purple fog.
Belle flinched as the words whispered about the main hall. Her heart leapt into into her throat as the blood drained from her face. Turning about in a blur she looked to where the voice hailed in the oily cloud.
The sorcerers magic mingled favorably together whenever they teleported anywhere. Empty black tendrils wrapped about dark purple clouds like fingers clutching at billowing amethyst. The power when meshed almost looked like snakes weaving together in some horrible wyrd of fate.
Tremulous breath caught in Belle's throat at their impromptu entry. Her brave heart paused in a sudden crash of raw terror and disparity forcing her heart to still. Blood froze as brooks stilled by winters ice in her body. The urge to drop to her knees and beg for mercy instilled her soul and shook her knees like rattles, but she would not demean herself such.
If she was to be punished at least she would be in pain with her dignity still intact. Cracked but whole nonetheless.
Swallowing hard, the frightened beauty nodded humbly and cast her eyes down ward to her feet as the pair exited the cloak of power. "Very busy mistress. I made your favorite."
"Trying to buy my favor slave?" The vile sorceress cooed tauntingly as she slipped sensually into her normal seat.
Dutifully Belle fell into attending them. Like all meals she doled out their food, measured their tea into their cups and when finished stood away to the side awaiting if they should need anything. Mostly she refilled their tea whenever they took a sip. Though there was nothing grand about the job, the task was the least arduous of her chores and at least she could listen to their conversations.
Pouring the warm blackberry tea she shook her chestnut mane head softly, every inch the cowed slave. "No mistress."
"Good. Because you'd know I'd never give you an inch." A malicious laugh hummed in a purr from her kiss strewn throat.
Not daring to oppose, the beauty nodded dutifully. The more she let Cora heap spearing insults into her soul and bring down her hope in a vile pit of darkness the greater her chances of less pain later.
Cora, she knew, was akin to a cunning cat toying with an injured mouse. She would always bat at her helpless servant before digging her claws deep and snapping her in two.
From the other end of the table, the fiend stirred in his matching seat. "Slave my tea." He crooked a gray-gold talon to beckon her to his empty chipped cup.
"Right away." She bobbed a penitent head and scurried over. Pouring his tea she dared not look into the dark eyes she knew were intently boring into her. She knew precisely what she would find in his bottomless orbits, only cold duty of one who had to inform his lover of her rebellious servant.
The cruel witch doctored her tea as the girl busied herself setting their plates with slices of sugared oranges and bread. "I have a special task for you slave." She dropped a cube of sugar into the gilt cup and stirred lazily, her eyes never parting from the girl.
"Mistress?" Belle's voice hedged with wariness. This was the end, she knew, it had to be; the cat was finally striking.
Delicately sipping her tea the witch sifted in her seat. "From now on you will make the trek to the tower to deliver our luncheon. We have much work to do in the coming days and I won't waste precious time coming down here, waiting for you to bungle something."
Astounded, Belle nearly dropped the plate of steaming eggs on her feet. Awe warmed her veins, thawing the ice in her blood. That was all? No punishments, no pain, only an extra chore?
Breath rattled in relief from Belles lips. Her entire body shivered, her blood flowing hot in her body once more. Her head bounded with a rush of her ruby essence to her temples. "Yes mistress. Of course mistress."
Grabbing up the silver gilded tray, the enslaved beauty began to make her way out with the unneeded dishes. Cora seemed none the wiser of the book episode, she relayed in her sharp mind brimming with relief. Perhaps the Dark One did not spill her secret.
"Hold on a moment." Intrigue filled the cruel Cora's voice like a lance aimed at the girls heart.
Fear chilled Belle's veins once more in a flurry of terror she could not halt. Her body braced in a jolt as thought the words were vines curling about her calf's. Her head swirled in a nightmarish whirl she could escape. How could she have been so foolish to think Cora did not know?
He had told her, the fright in her whispered terribly t her stilled heart. He had told Cora of the book and her only secret pleasure to balm her wounds of misery.
Dread clamped keen cutting talons about her heart at the thought and dragged her soul down into the pit of her belly. Cora was ruthless to begin with when she found something to displease her. The cruel witch was terrifying when orders were disobeyed. Below her mended skin Belle had the magical scars to prove all that and more.
Through the night she prayed he hadn't said a word, but why wouldn't he? He owed her nothing. She was a slave, one who rebelled against his lover no less. That was enough ground to divulge her secret there with no regret on his part.
"What is this book doing here?" Cora queried suspiciously as Belle was about to leave with tray in tow. Her scheming eyes strafed over to a red tome sitting on the edge of a polished pedestal.
The ruby covered book lay haphazardly upon a pedestal the beauty had passed by when going to her prison the other night. Belle had been so certain the Dark One meant to relate what he had discovered to her mistress she hadn't even bothered putting the book away so despondent was she.
Struck with terror the beauty lost her breath in her constricted lungs. Her body seemed entrapped in an enchantment but no magic befell her form. How could she have forgotten where she left the book? Had she sold herself out by an error?
"I was reading the book, Cora." Interjected Rumpelstiltskin easily. The lie smoothed in a pleasantly lazy trill past his thin gray lips.
Lazily flourishing her hand, the witch brought the book to her spell worn grasp. Licking a nimble finger, she flipped open the crimson faced tome and languidly skimmed the neatly inscribed pages. Her almond eyes raced over the blots of darkness that lined the yellowed parchment as she leisurely inspected the tome with a causal grace.
As she closed the book, a teasing smile perched upon her mouth. "A quaint little love story. Funny, Rumpel, I never thought you the type to enjoy such amorous tales of princes in disguise and daring sword fights to save the princess."
"I do enjoy my fancies." He tittered and flourished his wiry black nailed talons as though his reading selection was of no consequence. Inwardly his pride flinched from the darts of her words. Why did the girl have to be reading that book? And more importantly why had he covered for her?
Turning to Belle she held the book out temptingly. Her smile of humor at the Dark One's expense slowly transformed into an oozing smirk of taunting to her bowed prisoner. "You would like to read this wouldn't you slave?" She taunted in acidic sweetness.
Shocked, more to her good fortune rather than Cora's asking the beauty nodded dumbly, her mind spinning in a blur on an incredible axis. "Yes mistress."
"Like I said." She waved her hand as though tossing away garbage. The book enveloped into onyx smoke and disappeared form her small clutches. "You will find no favor from me." Rising she smiled at her love. "I'll be in the tower if you need me."
As she departed in a cowl of darkness, the Dark One rose. The high backed chair screeched from such a hurried rising and wobbled nearly toppling over from his sudden rush.
His ebony eyes were as hard as black marble carved into his sockets. A drab grayness of anger tinted his green-gold skin. Fury at himself clawed menacingly at his heart spurring his ferocity into an inferno. He prowled towards the enthralled beauty like some stalking, angry leopard with prey insight.
He knew what was on her mind. Even if he were the stupidest being on earth he could have discerned her thoughts in an instant.
"Don't even think about thanking me. I only save your skin for one purpose." The fiend hissed menacingly, his lips skewed into a feral sneer and eyes gleaming with murder. He had to dissuade her of any notion otherwise. "Your mistress wishes me to do a conjoining of wild magic. I need an assistant. I'd rather have one who is not dead yet."
Her head shot up from her deferent bow. Amazement sparkled in her indigo orbs so blue he lost himself in her gleaming depths. Words of thanks danced eager upon her tongue, but she knew better than to try and thank him. "Wild magic?" She asked instead of proclaiming the gratefulness in her heart.
"Yes." He growled, trying to deny the look in her sapphire eyes. "Nothing more."
Nothing more. He had saved her for no other purpose than his own, he convinced himself sternly.
Walking past her the fiend set his midnight eyes upon his wheel. More than ever did he wish to spin until the wheel was all a brown blur taking his thoughts and milling them to dust swept away by the winds of his dark mind. His fingers itched to feel the golden thread slip through his gray-gold talons and to feel the roughness of the wood across his palms. He needed to forget, he needed to think.
Turning about, Belle looked to him. Her eyes once more glowed a sky blue with the woman he had seen on the floor amidst the sea of ancient curtain. "I owe you my life." She thanked discreetly. There truly was no doubt about that. Cora would have probably turned her into a plump grub and fed her to her raven if she found out about the book.
Perhaps he utterly refused to accept a thank you, but a simple statement of gratefulness he could not deny. He would not, could not, stop her from at least saying that much for his kindness.
Before he could parry her words, the beauty swept away with the gilded tray and a thankful, bursting heart.
Behind her, the Dark One stared at his ancient wheel and pile of straw and spun for his dear, foolish life.
What was happening to him?