Unimportant notice: My sweet little hater, if you keep reporting my fics and anything happens to either of my works posted here or this account, I promise I'll go on Tumblr and spread my stuff you loathe over there. It's not a threat, just a warning; I need to compensate for the fics that have been removed because of you. And guess which one from my 'trash' collection will appear there first.
"Looks like you need it."
Isabelle glances briefly at the steaming mug that has been put in front of her before diverting her eyes to the person who brought it. The stranger is a woman - a rare sight in the tavern. She is small yet taller than Belle, with fair hair (that could use a wash) pinned in a tight bun on top of her head and dressed in murky green, which brings out the greyish-green of her eyes. She gives the girl a lopsided smile when the mug remains untouched.
"It's tea, not poison, but I can sip from it if that's what it takes to convince you," the woman says cheerfully before gesturing to the seat opposite of Belle. "Do you mind?"
Isabelle doesn't, but she cares little for company. The past several days have been... difficult. After the girl gave up on futile attempts to summon Rumpelstiltskin, she spent them brooding about what happened. For some strange reason, it feels like refusing his offer was a betrayal. He was so giddy, obsessed with this idea of replacing her heart with the man's. It still gives her chills when she thinks about it, imagining the sorcerer opening her chest to slide the slimy, blood-soaked, beating thing into her. It would probably feel alien and heavy. She involuntarily covers her chest each time she thinks of it. Her pulse under her hand serves a reminder and reassurance that it was madness, she already has a heart and yet... She doubts. Why was he so insistent? Where did he get the idea that she couldn't love him? Why did he trust some silly potion he made?
Her papa used to tell her how much she was like her mother - beautiful, caring, kind. Isabelle cannot recall ever hurting anyone, but it's odd. She remembers what it was like, what love felt like but now it's more of a wishful longing than the actual feeling. She can feel anger, embarrassment and pain, warmth when she thinks of her father or Rumpelstiltstskin but she doesn't actually feel overwhelming love as she knows she should. As if someone put a stopper to how deep her affection could get.
"Do you want you talk about it?" the stranger asks, dropping on the bench at the table even though no invitation followed her previous question. "I can tell you are troubled."
Isabelle takes a sip of tea to avoid answering and winces as the hot fluid burns her tongue. Telling a complete stranger her deepest secrets is tempting and perhaps she would feel better afterwards, but her rational part protests.
"I could help," the woman goes on and leans forward to whisper confidingly. "I help people, you know. I'm a fairy."
That was definitely not something Isabelle anticipated and she gapes at her companion. Belle knows she has a fairy godmother, but she has never seen her - most fairies are too busy doing… well, whatever it is they do, than actually granting their charges' wishes. Then, swiping her gaze over the dirty clothes and a soot stain on the stranger's arm, she thinks fairies are hardly to look this way. The woman is probably a lunatic, she realizes. Luckily, she's not aggressive but the girl's mind tries to come up with an excuse to get away from her safely.
"You don't believe me," the self-proclaimed fairy pouts and her face turns into that of childish hurt. It's impossible to see her as dangerous now. "I am; I just temporarily lost my wings! Here, I'll prove it to you." She reaches into her pocket pulling out a small vial of light-yellow sand. "Do you know what this is?"
Isabelle shakes her head. "It's pixie dust! Only fairies can use it."
"What do you do with it?.." Her voice trails off and her companion quickly realizes she hasn't introduced herself.
"Green. My fairy name is Green, but it prefer to be called Tinkerbell." Her excitement is contagious and somehow the notion of meeting a fairy (or an ex-fairy) in a tavern no longer seems insane.
"Isabelle," she says with a smile. "So, what it is used for?"
"Oh, so many things. It can make you fly and give you happy dreams. It also helps the flowers bloom," she says solemnly, as if that was a prominent magic accomplishment. Unfortunately, the sand looks quite ordinary. "Just wait."
Tinkerbell wrinkles her nose and stares at the glass hard and when Isabelle is about to pretend she believes her - it matters little after all whether she's talking to a fairy or not - the sand glows gold for a few seconds.
"Aha! I told you!"
Isabelle smiles at her, even though the past few days gave her very little reason for feeling any joy.
"Perhaps, you can help me then," she says timidly, not quite convinced yet. "Do you… Can you give me my love back?"
"You mean you want to reunite with your soul-mate?" Tinkerbell's eyes sparkle at the prospect and she practically jumps in her seat. "We could do that! Go and search for him and when you two meet…"
"No. I know where to find him, but he believes I am not capable of love. He says I've lost it."
She doesn't want to add anything else to reveal the identity of her love interest, because no matter how understanding people may seem, certain knowledge would not be accepted easily. Tinkerbell frowns in puzzlement but it appears she cannot stay moody for too long as she dismisses the idea and smiles again.
"Nonsense. Everyone can love."
"Apparently, not me," Isabelle says more bitterly than intended but it's the fairy's turn to doubt now.
"That's silly. Give me your hand. I may have lost my wings, but not all of my powers."
Belle stretches her hand out and she half-expects something unusual and magical to happen, but her companion simply covers her palm with her hand and closes her eyes. Her touch is warm, dry and delicate and she begins to believe that, perhaps, this meeting is her chance to set things right. However, Tinkerbell's expression grows more and more confused with every second.
"I've never felt anything like this," she says finally, letting go of the girl's hand. The fairy's eyebrows are knit together so tight there's a vertical crease in between them and she loses all of her bubbly cheer. "It's… complicated. I can feel you've had love in your life but I do not see it in the present nor the future. It's like… How can I explain? Like someone has abruptly cut the thread. As if you suddenly… died."
The words send a chill down Isabelle's spine, making her head spin. It sounds strangely familiar - isn't that exactly what Rumpelstiltskin said?
"Isn't there anything I can do?" she pleads weakly, already knowing the answer. Rumpelstiltskin had offered her a solution, but she knows she won't be able to live with the burden of taking someone's life for the sake of her own happiness. It's her destiny then, to be alone, robbed of the joys of affection.
"I… I really don't know," the fairy replies and hesitates a few moments before continuing. "You could ask the head fairy though. She used to be my tutor. She's rather strict, but quite powerful. If she cannot help you, I doubt anyone else can."
"Who is this tutor?"
"Blue Fairy, of course. Rheul Ghorm."
"Come on, Blue Fairy? She's not real! Every child knows she's a book character."
"That book character gave me a lot of grief and plucked my wings at the end, thank you very much," Tinkerbell says sharply. "Anyways, I'd give it a shot if I were you. Just go into the forest and wish upon the brightest star. She will appear if you ask for her presence directly."
Going into the forest in the middle of the night sounded like a terrible idea and it felt silly to even consider it. But then, Tinkerbell was right, there was nothing to lose.
Her blond companion gestured at the mug.
"It's already cold. Would you like me to order another one?"
Isabelle refuses and carefully sips the cooled liquid.
"Actually, I like it better cold," she confesses. Whether it's the tea or the new incipient hope, it does make her feel more optimistic. "How could I ever thank you? Do you think if I ask the Blue Fairy to give you your wings back, she'll do it?"
Tinkerbell shakes her head.
"It's not that simple. I have to earn them back, little by little. But don't worry, I'll manage. Seeing people I helped find happiness is enough reward for a fairy."
They spend the rest of the evening talking and laughing at the amusing stories Tinkerbell shares over their mugs of tea.
The next day Isabelle spends in bed, tossing and turning as she tries to catch some sleep. She is too anxious but she doesn't want to feel tired when she sets out to find the Blue Fairy. Isabelle leaves as soon as she can see the first stars peek out on the inky sky, leaving Phillipe in the stables - she was told to go alone, after all. Trying to find a path in the forest after the dark is strange, especially since she doesn't know where she's going, but she doesn't feel any fear. The sky clears and the girl can see everything quite clearly. Moon-lit trees look peaceful and even the eerie shadows they cast hold a captivating beauty to them.
When Isabelle comes to a clearing, she decides it's as good a place as any. She's a bit confused as to what to do next, so she silently wishes for the Fairy to appear. Nothing happens, so the girl clears her throat and tries once more.
"Blue Fairy? Could I please speak to you? Rheul Ghorm? I was told I could ask you for help."
She looks up at the sky and waits, then waits some more and just when she's about to turn away, the brightest star in Greater Dog flickers. It appears to be moving, becoming less glaring but somehow bigger, until Isabelle can make out the shape. This time the girl doesn't doubt she's seeing a fairy - tiny as she is, the creature sparkles with dust, dressed from head to toe indeed in blue (did she get her name for the colour or began wearing it because of the name?) and even her wand seems to glow indigo.
"Blue Fairy," Isabelle repeats in awe and is graced by a courteous bow. "You came!"
"Indeed I have child," the head fairy replies in a high pitched melodical voice, stretching the words and almost singing. Her speech is accented, as if she doesn't speak in this tongue often. She looks young but the legends say she goes back to the first men. It would explain her inclination to call Isabelle a child. The girl can tolerate it as long as she's not treated as one.
"I need your help, please. I…"
"I know what you require, sweet girl," the fairy interrupts. "I see great darkness in your past. You have been marked by the demon but twice," Isabelle starts to feel annoyance at the sing-song voice. Marked by the demon? What is that supposed to mean?
"I shall not help you to rejoin with him, child. Despite your hopes, the Dark One can never be worthy or your love and never truly love you. The remains of his soul has shrunk and as such, are incapable of any emotion. He knows only misery and fear and he exists merely to carry on causing trouble," Rheul Ghorm continues mournfully and Isabelle bites her lip.
She recalls Rumpelstiltskin's trembling hands they first came in contact with her skin. How he both recoiled and longed for her touch. His tentative kisses and sharp words, his shy smiles and the sadness of his eyes. How can this floating ancient pixie speak of him like that? She doesn't even know him. Her hands itch to swat her away like a fly, but Isabelle suppresses the urge. She thinks, if the fairy is still rambling, that means something can be done but she doesn't want to act for fear the girl will be reunited with Rumpelstiltskin or, rather, the soul-eating demon Blue mistakes him for. But what if she will still grant Isabelle's wish and return her ability to love? Then, no matter if the girl remembers her previous life with the sorcerer or not, she can still find him and they can start all over.
"You are right, Rheul Ghorm, I understand," she replies, doing her best to keep the sarcasm from seeping into her words. She is not entirely successful as her voice wavers but luckily the fairy mistakes it for genuine pity and remorse. "But what should I do? I cannot live unloving. I want to be whole," she presses but Blue's eyes narrow as if she tries to see through her. Taking a deep breath, Isabelle tries another lie. "I realize I have made the mistake of trusting the Dark One, but I could still make some other man - good man - happy. I want this so badly, Rheul Ghorm." Her eyes water with self-loathing at this undignified pretense, the screamingly fake words making her stomach sick.
Blue watches her, shifting her gaze from Belle's tearful eyes to bitten lips and trembling hands and cocks her head to the side.
"I can sense how desperate you are, child, but I cannot give you your heart back. But fear not, I have something else for you."
She swishes her tiny wand, sending blue sizzling sparks through the air and Isabelle bends to pick up whatever was dropped to her feet. She turns the object this and that way, trying to determine whether it was some joke.
"It's… it's a ball of yarn," she observes, feeling quite silly. Is she supposed to knit something? How will that help?
"It's not just a ball of yarn, it's magical." The girl raises her eyebrows. And there she thought Rumpelstiltskin was eccentric. "Hold onto the end of the thread, and it will lead the way to your destiny."
The fairy refuses to explain further and Isabelle thanks her politely. Blue disappears and things grow dark around the girl, who remains in the same spot.
Where does her destiny lie? Would the yarn lead her back to the tavern, or her father's castle or, perhaps, Rumpelstiltskin's lair?
It would make more sense to return to bed and set out on the journey in the morning, feeding Phillipe and replenishing her supplies. Yet, Isabelle cannot help her curiosity. She wants to… No. She needs to know what the future has in store for her. Firmly holding the end of the thread in her fist, the girl drops the yarn (blue, of course it is blue) onto the ground. It is immediately lost in the tall grass, but then the thread in her hand stretches forward tight and, following the pull, Isabelle walks away from the clearing and deeper into the forest towards - if Blue Fairy can be trusted on that - her destiny.