A fortnight has passed since she made a fool of herself at the front door late at night, she recalls, trying to stitch the same design as the illustration in the book. She possesses enormous amounts of patience and so believes taking up embroidery will be a diverting form of self-improvement. Before, she'd only sewn buttons onto shirts or a patch on one of Gaston's capes when he asked, commanded, she mend it. "Practice for when we're married," he'd said with an expression Belle didn't recognize then, part grimace, part hunger. A jet black patch the size of an apple on his cape of crimson silk hadn't warranted the same expression.
"What's funny?" Rumpelstiltskin asks from his chair, a book in hand for the evening.
"Just a memory," she says, pulling the needle through. A single hard rap at the door thunders throughout the house. "Are you expecting someone?"
"Probably just someone desperate," he sighs, heaving himself up from the chair. "All the same, dearie, upstairs with you if things begin to sound grim." Flashing a grin at her, he answers the door. Poking her head out, all she can see is the fluttering of a shadow, like wings, up in the air. He holds a small piece of parchment and turns with a smirk.
"What was that?" she asks.
"This?" He whips his arm out causing the parchment to flick. "This, dearie, is notification Maleficent's little spell has worked, courtesy of her raven."
"Worked? So then the young princess is..."
"Merely asleep, and in this kind of sleep, the pure of heart don't have much to fret over. But you and I know what Maleficent doesn't and so she thinks she's won and is hosting a little get-together for the forces of evil." She blinks, the only meaning coming to her mind too ridiculous to say out loud. "A celebration."
"That's an invitation then, to a party?" Her stomach debates whether to churn up a laugh or dinner.
"It is indeed, a ball. Mine...and yours."
"What?"
"Well if I go by myself it will seem like I'm there on business and not pleasure," he scoffs.
"I thought you didn't like her."
"I don't. Few do, but they'll arrive in droves to avoid making her mad. You know how she feels about spurned etiquette and all. There is something I wish to confirm and, well, I guess I just want to taunt her a little, so I'm going and so are you."
"Out of the question."
"It's not a question," he says, beginning to look dangerous. "You serve a purpose in going."
"Which is?"
"To teach me to dance."
Too much for one evening, she thinks, holding her hands up to reorder time and ingest the last five minutes. Dancing, with him, at a function with rituals only her nightmares had any inkling of—a dream. You've dozed off, Belle. Time to wake up. But everything is exactly the same, and the structure of the household being what it is, she supposes she'll be going one way or another. But...
"You know how to spin straw into gold but you don't know how to dance?"
"And you know how to dance but not how to spin straw into gold. We could run around that circle all night," he says with a shrug. "Would you make a deal with me?"
"What's your proposal?"
"Simply that I've noticed what chore you put off the most."
"I complete my chores, thank you."
"Yes, but imagine an existence, if you will, without being on your hands and knees scrubbing the floors." His hands provide needless flourish. It's already tempting. "It wouldn't take much effort to bewitch the floors to stay clean, maybe a little time, but not effort. No grout to scour, no crawling around like a vixen wiping up droppings...although the view is nice and it's really time the chickens went back outside."
Blushing, she considers.
"This party," she says, making sure to look weary. "It's just a regular party, isn't it? No...no...you know?"
"I'm afraid I don't, dearie. Enlighten me."
"No drinking blood or summoning up the dead or anything like that?"
He giggles, that impish one that should chill her bones but brings sweet relief now. Exhaling, she blushes more.
"Do all these heroes people speak so highly of go about rescuing every single minute? Then why should a villain never have some time off? It's a ball, dearie, and not unlike the countless ones I'm sure you've been to. So." He extends his hand. "Being my Plus One in exchange for floors so clean we could eat off them?"
"Deal." They shake hands. Adventure, that's what you wanted, she thinks. Brave, that's what you want to be.
An empty hardwood room serves as a ballroom, one Belle never bothers to clean, which is a shame, she thinks. The elongated windows frame the walls, bordered by royal blue drapes. During the day, light should pour in, but then pianos or harps or even a music stand should be in the room, too. Just them, a waltz starting with a snap of his fingers.
Hands entwined with his other one on the small of her back ought to be hair-raising, she thinks, and while her heart is pounding to the point she can hear it, it's not. It's...not calming, certainly, but there is a sense of inevitability with it, that it makes sense.
"One, two, three," she counts, ignoring the feeling, ignoring how easy and comfortable it is, and watches his legs. He leads by instinct—she just knew it wouldn't take long for him to catch on. All that is left is to keep them on count.
"You're doing so well I'm not sure if our original deal is still fair," she says, knowing it could mean being back on the floor scrubbing. Honesty can be a curse.
"Ah, we'll see, won't we? Might have to trip here or there."
But he doesn't. It's more natural than anything she's done here, and at the same time it's in preparation for...her face falls. She looks down at the ground. Terror replaces the warmth before the song even finishes, forcing her to miss a step.
"Why the long face, dearie? I thought I was doing well."
"It's not that," she whispers, voice shaking. "When, when we're there, you'll...since it's...being what it is, will you..." It's no use. The garbled, abstract fears in her mind render her tongue-tied. All it takes is one look at his eyes, those enormous eyes, to know he understands what she's asking.
"Yes," he vows, so low she knows it's a vow only to her. "Yes, I'll protect you."