Kudos to TamyG for noticing that the last chapter was an alludment to the winter scene in Beauty and the Beast. You just won some serious virtual brownies my dear!
Disclaimer: I own nothing of "Once Upon A Time" or Rumbelle. But if you don't know by now...I LOVE THEM SO MUCH!
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Belle remained in that dress. She had no choice anyway. Her dress had magically vanished when her master had snapped his fingers. She thought for a brief moment if she had been naked for even a split second. This thought brought a blush to her cheeks and she shook her head. She certainly did not remember such a thing, and surely she would have noticed. Wouldn't she have?
The servant had more important things to think about than the state of her modesty around the infamous Dark One. Currently, it was the task of making him a meal. He had, in fact, been kind enough. For the first two weeks she had been here, he had given her time enough to adjust to the many tasks she had to fulfill around the Dark Castle. He had made both his and her food by magic. But now, he told her, it was time for her to start making the meals. He had not told her why there was a sudden change in his dietary desires, but Belle could guess. She thought that perhaps he desired an actual cooked meal. Surely, the conjured dishes did not taste as good as a hot, home-cooked dinner. How long had he been in this Castle anyway? If it was as long as she thought, and she doubted he could cook, he had probably not tasted a physically cooked dish in many years.
That, of course, did not mean that Belle desired the task anymore than before. She doubted his desire for a home-cooked meal would be fulfilled. She was a princess—or had been a princess-she had never cooked a meal before in her life. And she certainly did not know how to start now. So, she decided on a simple meal. After opening the cupboards, she realized that they were stocked full of plenty of items of food. She had to be able to make something.
After tripping over the leg of the counter, she nearly missed a close collision with the pantry. Belle had always been clumsy...one very unprincess-like quality, but it had been something she had never been able to lose. No matter how hard she tried.
She stoked the fire to a lively roar and watched for a moment as the sparks flew to the ceiling of the cast-iron stove. Placing a pot upon the stove, she began to boil the water for soup. Surely soup couldn't be difficult to make, could it? She very carefully-and very slowly- managed to cut up the assorted vegetables. Beans, carrots, potatoes, celery, and threw them into the pot. She added a dash of salt, and perhaps far too much pepper, and stirred the broth. Taking a sip, her lips instantly curled as she tasted the bite of spice, but she figured the rest tasted just fine. Reaching out to take the handle of the pot, she touched the burning hot metal. Her hand flew back and she bit back a yell as she felt the tingle of pain course through her hand. Her lips was bleeding from biting down on them so hard.
"Blast it all." The Princess swore under her breath. She rinsed her palm under a cold stream of water before taking a rag this time and using it to block the heat from the pot. Taking the pot off of the hot oven, she brought it to the large table in the Great Hall. She quickly ran back for the bowls and spoons. He would be there any time and she certainly did not want to be late...especially after he had warned her with a sneer not to be.
She was just ladling the first bowl of soup when he appeared with a haze of purple smoke. Such an action had become normal for her and it no longer caused her to jump like it had used to. She continued to serve the hot soup as he smiled maniacally at her and approached the table.
"Ahh, dearie, I see you are on time. Did you find it easy enough for you?" He took a seat and sniffed at the soup. "It isn't going to be awful, is it?"
Belle glared at him but soon realized he was joking. She let out a small grin, "I guess you'll just have to find out," she teased back. The Dark One didn't answer as she winced slightly.
"You are hurt?" He asked a bit more concerned than he liked.
Belle shook her head, "It is nothing. I just burned my hand."
He motioned to her. "Come here," he commanded softly so as not to frighten her. She cautiously allowed him to take her hand and turn it so that her palm was visible. A long red line ran across her palm, her flesh was bubbling and blistering. The skin at the wound was beginning to peel back, and was becoming scaly. Belle hissed in pain as he ran his fingers across the wound, his fingertips feather-light as he traced the burn. To her dismay, the servant began to notice that she did not particularly hate the feeling. Of course, the pain was still there, but his fingers running trails across her palm was not entirely unpleasant. She suddenly felt the urge to close her eyes and revel in the feeling, but she shook the thought from her head. What is wrong with me?...
Before she could answer her thought, the familiar purple smoke began to circle around her wound and she squealed as the pain returned stronger this time. It was the man before her that steadied her, his hand held her strongly in place. As quickly as it had begun, the smoke dissipated and Belle looked down to see her hand completely healed. There was no scar, and no pain. She smiled softly as she looked up at the Dark One.
"Thank you, Master." She flushed slightly as their eyes met. She bent her head lower so that he would not notice the crimson shade her cheeks had taken.
He smirked and released her hand. "It is of no matter, dearie. Now how about some soup?" Belle nodded, thankful for the distraction from the tingly feeling. But it was no longer the feeling that had been in her hand. It had traveled down to her stomach, and she hated it. Especially since it had been caused by her master's touch.
She handed him the bowl of soup...the first meal she had ever braved to make. She served herself a bowl as well and took a seat to the right of him. However, she would not eat first. She figured that it would be respectful to always allow him that privilege, and she wanted to see if the soup was really as bad as she dreaded.
The Dark One's expression was enough to confirm her fear. He began to punch his chest as he choked hard. His eyes began to water and his eyes were screwed up in a grimace. Belle quickly looked away, unable to bear the shame of her failed meal. That and she was frightened. How would he punish her for such a disgusting dinner?
She was surprised—nay shocked- when it was not his rage that she heard, but undeniable laughter. She slowly raised her head to look upon the beast. He was banging his fist upon the table and his eyes were watering even more...but from tears of happiness. His laughter was not the usual mocking, high-pitched squeal that made Belle's skin crawl. It was a real laugh, deep and heart-felt. Belle found she quite liked the sound of it and it made her grin at her own failed cooking experience. But nothing shocked her more than the split second she thought she saw the Dark One flash her a genuine smile. Belle thought her eyes were playing tricks on her. Surely, he would never smile at her, no matter how awful her meal had been.
"I don't find what's funny, Master?"
The Dark One's laughter died down to chuckles. "You're meal was a disaster, my dear! A complete disaster!"
Belle looked at him in confusion, "Forgive me, Master, but I thought you would punish me."
"Punish you?" He squealed, "Punish you for such an amusement? I haven't had a laugh like that in centuries!" Belle looked at him, shocked.
"You never laugh?"
Suddenly, fearing he had said too much, his expression became hard again and he coughed slightly. "Well, no, I don't, Belle. Now how about we have something a bit more...edible?" He smirked and with a wave of his hand, the heavy quantity of pepper lifted itself from the bowl and threw itself into the flames of the fireplace.
Belle was still quite scared to taste her creation but she watched as her master ate it with very little difficulty. She cautiously lifted some into her spoon and took a small sip. To her surprise, it tasted just fine. It tasted more than fine. It was actually good. "What did you do to the soup?"
"I did nothing, dearie," he replied, "I just removed your hideous amount of pepper." He watched her as her lips turned into a delicate smile.
"That means-"
"What does it mean, dearie?" He watched her curiously.
Belle giggled, "It means I am really not that horrible of a cook after all."
"I never said you were." He offered her a gentle smile and began to eat his soup again. The girl at his side was still giddy from her accomplishment.
Once they were finished, she brought the dishes back to the kitchen and washed them quickly. The Dark One had always done that with magic, but she had insisted that she just clean them up quick. She really did hate magic and her master was beginning to see that more than ever.
It did not take her long, to her relief. She found that she didn't really care for washing the dishes in the soapy water. She quietly entered the Great Hall and her eyes instantly fell to the spinning wheel. Well, rather the man who sat at the spinning wheel. As had become her own practice, after the dinner was always finished, she would come into the Hall as silently as she could and she would just watch the Dark One spin the straw into his gold. It was a short time, really just a few moments, but she would watch his face relax and calm. His facade as a monster would slowly disappear as he lost himself in the rhythm of the spinning wheel. A small smile would grace his lips, it even caused her to grin ever so slightly. He actually seemed normal...like any other man. But then the moment was gone all too soon and he sensed her presence. The mask was once again pulled over his face and his expression stony and unreadable.
"What are you to do tonight, dearie?" He asked as he stopped his wheel.
"I was thinking I would read, but I see you have no books." She sounded a bit disappointed, "I do so love to read."
"What, pray tell, do you enjoy?"
She smiled and she slowly approached him. Her hands were behind her back as she watched him, "I read nearly everything. On a night like this, quiet and peaceful, I think I would read a foolish love story. Something easy to read."
The Dark One smirked and snapped his fingers. A book landed at her feet and Belle slowly reached for it. "That should suit your fancy just fine."
Belle grinned at his thoughtfulness. And she was eager to finally read something. She, emboldened by the book in her hand, took a seat at his feet and quickly opened the pages. So entranced by the words on the page was she that she did not notice that he had begun to spin again.
But the whole time he sat there, the Dark One could not forget. He could not forget how that girl was so close. How he could pretty much feel her breath upon his knee. Why would she allow herself to sit next to such a monster? He shook his head and allowed the rhythmic sound of the spinning wheel to take over his thoughts.
-That is until a couple hours had passed- and he was awakened from his dream-like state at the feeling of a weight upon his thigh. He lowered his eyes slowly and nearly reeled when he saw that his servant had fallen asleep...her head had rested itself against his leg. He suddenly desired nothing more than to run his fingers through those long brown locks that seemed so inviting, but he withheld his hand and just stared down at her. What was he to do?
He gently stood to his feet, being careful not to waken her. Placing her book aside, he lifted her into his arms and cradled her body against his chest. Her cheek rested against his shoulder and he shuddered underneath her small frame. He hated to touch her, to defile her with his beastly hands, but he found himself relishing in her warmth, the feeling of her body pressed against his, and he walked her to her room, a small smile of contentment on his face.