A/N: Thanks to everyone so far who has reviewed! It makes my day. Also, special thanks to Daes Gatling. I don't know if you are on here, but your Once Upon a Time: Abridged series has not only kept me laughing as you MERCILESSLY riff on every episode, but it's really helped me refresh my memory when I need to, and the youtube series where you have put all the fairytale world scenes in chronological order is an AMAZING reference tool. You rock! I'm thinking I might eat an apple turnover and have a mini-OUAT party in the near future...
Two more hours and she would leave her room and serve dinner, she thinks between pages of a history of the sea people. Or two more hours until a long, arduous death, but she prefers to believe she will be serving dinner.
"The sea people? Fickle lot."
She shrieks, leaping off of her bed at the sight of him sitting on it. He shifts his weight, playing with the springs, choosing to be oblivious.
"What, what are you doing in here? This, a man shouldn't be, I mean..."
"Come. Sit down and you can hear a little story before you return to this one." He picks up the book and places it on her pillow. Patting the bed, he waits.
He shouldn't be in here—that's all she can think besides imagining some elaborate lure to impending death. But so far she sits next to him on the bed, or rather, a few feet from him on the bed.
"The princess Maleficent is so dead-set on destroying is blessed by fairies. I know, horrid things, but they've taken a shine to her, always have, and when she was born, they bestowed gifts unto her. Gifts of grace, beauty, charm. So you see, even when cursed, she shouldn't be lacking in the rescuer department and she'll have the wretched little sprites on her side.
"The sleeping curse," he continued, "is a weak curse. Not one of my better ones. Easily breakable. And, if the whole thing still upsets you, this little deal I have with Maleficent will cost her her life."
"What do you mean?"
"Maybe not soon, maybe not until the far future, but once I scratch up just a few more things, I'll call in my favor to her, and that, to put it dramatically, will seal her fate."
"So you knowingly killing her is supposed to make me feel better?" she huffs.
"I'm at a loss to what you want then, Belle!" He stands, and hearing her name in such a way strikes her very core. It's not the casual address of asking what she's up to; it's, it's...passionate. He paces around the bed before she can even blush. "You don't like evil doing evil, and yet you don't like evil being vanquished!"
"It's not the evil being vanquished," she argues. "The way you're going about it is so self-serving and unfair."
"Unfair? Really? You read so many books, Belle. Tell me, did you read the stories all children hear, the ones about brave knights battling dragons?" She nods, afraid to breathe. "Always for a reason, isn't it? Saving a kingdom, rescuing a damsel..."
"Rescuing a true love," she says.
"Even true love is self-serving by your definition. And unfair? The knight invades the dragon's lair, does he not, and often catches the beast asleep. The element of surprise can do wonders, you know. The dragon sprays fire, that's certain, but the knight wears his armor, wields his sword and shield, and if he's very lucky, has true love's magic on his side, as you so idealistically pointed out. With all of that, is it a fair fight? Is it fair to leave such a creature as she alive so more babies can be cursed?"
She cannot speak. She chews on the inside of her cheeks, unable to look away from his eyes.
"That's just not how good does it," she whispers, gasping when he sets a knee back on the bed and leans forward, inches from her face.
"And I'm not good," he whispers. "Let evil fight evil so you can stay on that high horse of yours." He vanishes and Belle huddles into herself.
They eat in silence, playing with the potatoes and carrots in their stew. It's so dark in here with just the candles, she thinks. Why can't we have natural light coming in, she wonders, gazing at the covered windows. Right, because he's not good and told you so himself and wants to wallow in the darkness. That's why. She thinks on that while swishing a spoonful in her mouth.
One of the tan chickens flutters onto the table and scratches, head low, right in between them.
"Down! Down!" she shoos at it, succeeding in only ruffling its feathers.
"Down, Wendy," he sings to it, and Belle freezes. Wendy pecks at a crumb and clumsily leaves the table.
"You know their names?"
"Names are kind of my thing," is all he says before resuming his meal.
"Do you like lemon tarts?"
"Is that an apology?"
"It was a peace offering," she snaps. No more fear, she decides. If he planned on killing you, he'd have done it the minute the chickens came into the house. He likes the challenge, and, she can't believe the words enter her head, he likes me.
"Peace from a cheap and easy tart? When has that ever happened?" He throws in a snaky giggle for extra depravity. She scrunches her mouth, rolling her tongue for some dirty retort to come, something scandalous.
"My apologies, Rumpelstiltskin. I'll offer you something with a little more air and fluff since that's all you can handle." Not bad, Belle, she thinks, stifling a proud grin in favor of a smirk. Raking in the dishes, she starts for the kitchen.
"Not too much dough in the back area now. I can't stomach a fat lump," he calls after her, enticing her to shake her head and roll her eyes.