The road to her destiny lies through an impenetrable forest, for the spinning ball of yarn, invisible in the dark grass, takes her further and further to the heart of the woods, where, it appears, no man has walked before her and no animal trampled a trail. The silence is broken by the loud cracking of dry branches under her boots and Isabelle hopes it will keep the predators away rather than attract them. She shivers when something brushes her on the shoulder, but when she spins around, she hears a hoot - although the girl cannot see the bird - and realizes it was just an owl. Now the idea to pursue her fortune alone in the night seems less and less clever and Isabelle wonders if she can make the yarn consent to delay the quest and return her to the tavern.
She walks and walks and walks, grateful for the bright moon and the absence of large logs in her way. The trees become less dense and she can see a clearing every now and then, but the stubborn magic yarn never takes her to those until, finally, it speeds up, so that Isabelle has to almost run after it while it leads her to a glade.
Suddenly, the yarn tugs hard and the thread slips out of her hand. Isabelle yelps and bends down, searching for itbut she can't find it. She gets onto her knees and her hands roam through the grass and damp fallen leaves, but it has vanished. Oh dear gods. It's a completely unfamiliar area, she's in the woods, alone and lost… except that she isn't alone anymore.
Isabelle spots some movement in the corner of her eye and freezes in place, her heart fluttering rapidly in her throat and making it difficult to breathe.
"Who's there?" she asks in a trembling voice, realizing too late that letting whoever know how afraid she is and acknowledging her location is not the best plan. Yet again, whoever is coming can probably see her standing there quite clearly.
The dark figure approaches, getting larger and larger. Please, please let it not be an ogre, the girl thinks, because if it is, she, by speaking, made the mistake that will cost her her life.
Relief washes over the girl when she can finally see the creature.
"Hello," she coos to the horse as he steps into the light and smiles when the stallion's ears twitch and turn towards the source of the noise. "You scared me there."
The stallion neighs softly in agreement and makes few cautious steps forward. His dark fur looks freshly brushed; it lieshair to hair and glistens beautifully. His mane is white though, untrimmed and so long that large curls nearly brush his feet. Isabelle slides her hands into her pockets, looking for a treat but not taking her eyes off the approaching horse.
"Sorry, handsome, I do not have anything for you," she offers apologetically and he comes closer, butting her in the side and sniffing at her jacket, ensuring she's not hiding sugar or apples from him.
"What are you doing here, all alone? Are you lost? Because I am."
Talking to a horse is less silly than following a ball of yarn into nowhere, she muses. Isabelle finds the animal's company reassuring and smiles again when his large moist eyes study her face. She reaches out and pushes away a wisp of his mane to stroke his forehead. The stallion closes his eyes, clearly enjoying the attention he's getting.
"If you are lost, your owner must be very upset," Isabelle concludes and he snorts and swooshes his tail at the word owner. "Fine, no owner. You're your own master then."
She pets his soft muzzle and he closes his eyes once more before nipping softly on her fingers. Isabelle sucks in a breath, getting a glimpse of his teeth - they are not what you'd expect from a horse. They are yellow and long, with pointy ends and protracting fangs of a viper. She shrieks and jumps back from the stallion or whatever this creature is. He tries to step closerbut she moves back, too afraid to run because it would mean she has to turn her back to it. She tries not to cause any distress and throws her hands before her protectively, too aware now that he could take them off with a single bite of those teeth.
"Ah-I'm sorry," she stutters, positive that he probably understands her. "I didn't meant to… I'll just go now, alright?"
He bobs his head, his curly mane bouncing up but doesn't try to follow her and the girl thinks it's a good sign. She slowly steps back and again as the stallion watches her reproachfully. Her back hits a tree and only then does she gather the courage to turn around and walk away, breaking into a run and not stopping when small branches scrape against her cheeks. She continues straight forward, not caring where her legs are taking her as long as it's further from the creepy thing. Sure, he seemed friendly enough but she knows how deceiving appearances can be. Friendly horses do not need to grow deadly fangs, do they?
Soon her feet begin to protest and she stops. Isabelle is uncertain how far she is from the clearing now and whether it would be safe to return and look for the way back. The problem is, everything looks the same. She wouldn't be able to tell one clearing from the other; she could be walking in circles for all she knows. She is tired and sleepy and thirsty. There're small leaves and tree bark in her hair and she begins to feel the sting from the cuts on her face. The girl decides that she should rest for half an hour and then just keep on walking until eventually she finds someone who can point her back to the "Whispering Goldsmith".
Now that she thinks of it, there is a change in the air - it's cooler and slightly damp. Even though there is no hum of the insects that normally accompany the water sources, Isabelle is certain there is a pond nearby. She quickens her pace and yes, there it is - more of a lake than a pond, gloriously stretching as far as her eyes can reach. The water is so clear she can see the soft waves and the sandy bottom, yet she doesn't think drinking it is a sound idea, despite her parched throat.
Isabelle crouches down and presses her curved palms together to capture some water in them. She closes her eyes and sighs inwardly when the cool fluid washes over her face, wondrously making her feel refreshed and less achy in an instant. She dips her palms into the lake again, watching the surface ripple.
"Belle?"
She could shake the faint whisper off as a trick of her imagination but then the male voice calls her name again.
"Is that you, my darling Belle?"
She jerks her head up abruptly and something in her neck clicks in protest. He stands in the middle of the lake, his usual leathers clinging to him.
"Rumpelstiltskin?" she asks carefully and he smiles at her.
"Yes. Yes, my love, it's me." Somehow he's walking on the surface of the lake, getting closer but stopping several meters away. "I've looked everywhere for you. I've been so worried. I've been so cruel to youbut I love you so much. Can you forgive me?"
He stretches his arms and opens them invitingly and Isabelle almost sobs, overwhelmed with happiness.
"Rumpelstiltskin," she beams, springing to her feet and closing the distance between them in few quick jumps. The girl collides into himbut he's strong and keeps his balance, otherwise the impact would send them both into the lake. She pays no mind to the cold water that begins to soak her boots and only clings to him harder, intertwining her own fingers behind his back not to let go.
"I was so afraid you didn't want me, that you left me forever," she says in a small voice as his hand strokes her tangled hair.
"Never, my sweet Belle. I love you, I've always loved you and I would never leave you alone," Rumpelstiltskin whispers and she raises her head, resting her chin on his chest and searching his face to see if he's telling the truth.
His large eyes meet her blue ones calmly and the wrinkles in the corners hold no mischief. She feels like she's floating, gliding across the lake and Isabelle takes in his features hungrily, from the long nose to the silvery scales on his forehead and temples. She frowns, spotting the unfamiliar colour but then he ducks his head and her eyes flutter closed on their own will.
His lips are cold and the kiss tastes of murky swamp water. The way his mouth moves over hers is different, unfamiliar and it unnerves her. Rumpelstiltskin pulls away briefly but before she can inhale, he's kissing her again, insistent and rough, drinking in her breath. She doesn't like it, it feels wrong, he is wrong - cold and forceful and… Isabelle has no time to finish the thought as suddenly the water under her feet refuses to support her weight and she falls down.
She opens her mouth to screambut she can't. She can still feel Rumpelstiltskin's hands around her and he smiles cruelly. His hands slide up to her neck and his long fingers curl around it, squeezing and holding her down. Isabelle begins thrashing and kicking, clawing at his hand. Her lungs are on fire and her vision begins to swim. She inhales but instead of blissful air it's water that chokes her and further increases the burning.
There is nothing holding her neck now; instead, something around her ankle pulls her deeper and deeper to the bottom of the lake. She tries to kick and moves her arms in large arcs in an attempt to swim up, up to the moon light, up to the surface and life and air, but she's sinking, the merciless clutches of death dragging her lower and lower.
It's the end and she knows it as she closes her eyes. It's no more than stating the obvious and the thought holds no bitterness of regret to it. She can feel the water push and move around her, but it's irrelevant. Something nudges her ribs and she grabs onto it as more of an instinct than cautious decision. There is a pull and the girl squeezes the soft hair between her fingers harder. She cannot quite tell if she's being dragged sideways or upwards and she idly wonders why her dying brain did not come up with a more pleasant hallucination.
Suddenly, the sounds of the night wash down on her and she can feel the cold air on her face. Something splatters under her and quickly guides her away and pushes the girl onto the shore. Isabelle's trembling hands find sand and leaves and she rolls them into fists, trying to support herself and she coughs and wheezes, drawing in panicked breaths.
The pain in her chest subsides eventually and she looks up at her savior. She blinks the tears from her eyes, both from the pain in her body and relief of being alive.
"Thank you," she says in a hoarse voice and he butts his head against hers gently, his soaked mane dripping more water onto her breeches. She looks over her shoulder at the lake. The surface is still and presents no signs of anyone on the shore or beneath the water.
"That wasn't Rumpelstiltskin, was it?" Isabelle asks rhetorically and tries to stand on her feet, holding onto the stallion's neck for support.
Her legs feel like they are made of cottonbut she stubbornly wills her body to comply. It's not safe staying on the shore, when the lake's habitant is still there and just as deadly. The girl is still in danger, her clothes are wet, she feels weak as a kitten and now there's dirt on her hands but the air has never been sweeter.
"Wait, I'll clean up a bit and we'll go," she tells the horse or whatever it is and bends down to wash her hands.
She half-expects Rumpelstiltskin's imposter to jump out of the waterbut nothing happens. The girl cleans her hands and stares at the water. Strangely enough, after nearly drowning she still feels thirsty. Well, it will hardly hurt her now, she thinks, shrugging and scoops up the water in her palm.
Surprisingly, it doesn't taste like anything (she thought it to be murky like the creature's lips) but as soon as the water trickles down her throat, Isabelle gasps and doubles over at the sharp pain in her chest. Bright, nearly blinding and vivid memories shoot through her head.
She is in a cell, weak from the fever and pain while Rumpelstiltskin holds her hand.
Rumpelstiltskin laughs and swings her around in his lab.
Regina gives her a knife and orders her to kill Snow White.
Daniel, sad and insane, curled around himself in the corner on the bed.
Rumpelstiltskin on the floor, breathless.
Regina's eyes glow triumphantly as she rips her heart out.
She sits on the floor, crying and chanting she loves him over and over again.
She remembers it all - the pain and joy and Belle's perception of the past few month changes as well. She feels like she could cry, she is shaking again. She needs to see him, to tell him she loves him again.
"Rumpelstiltskin!" she calls. The horse rears up, startled by her sudden shriek and the girl comes towards her savior, patting his back to calm him down. "Rumpelstiltskin, I summon thee. Please," she adds quietly.
There is no change and she sighs. Out of all the times she needed him, not showing up right now is the worst. Is he really that upset she forbade him to kill Daniel to retrieve her heart?
"Can you take me to him?" she asks the stallion and he eyes her suspiciously. "He won't hurt you, I promise. And he has all kinds of delicious food in his Castle. Or he can summon it," she says seductively and he snorts in consent.
She grabs a fistful of his mane and climbs onto his back, making sure she doesn't pull his hair too much. They both are still wet from the lake but sitting on a damp horseback without the saddle feels strangely comfortable. Belle doesn't let go of his mane though, tangling her other hand it in as well not to slip off onto the ground during the ride.
"Uh… Go?" she suggests, gently squeezing his sides and bending down to lay along his neck. "To the Dark Castle, please."
The stallion is off in a blink. He is fast, faster than Belle anticipated and the surrounding world blurs into one large greyish shape as he practically flies ahead. While normally there would be bouncing and shaking, he carries her smoothly, gliding through the forest. She's getting cold as the air streams over her but she pays it no mind to that inconvinience.
It takes her approximately twenty minutes to get there. One moment she sees nothing but the blur surrounding them and then the other the stallion slows to a trot and Belle takes in the tall towers and heavy castle gates. Home. She is home.