Chapter 2: A Visitor
Rumplestiltskin wandered through the market, intent on reaching Ebert's stall. He had awoke earlier than normal in an effort to reach the man before the crowd of people swept in and overwhelmed the place. He carried his basket, heavy with the wool he'd spun the night before. He felt certain that he would make more money this day, and the hope gave him a slight spring to his step.
He reached the stall, where Ebert was just finishing setting up and Rumplestiltskin dropped the basket on the counter with a slight thud. "I've got some more for you this morning," he proclaimed proudly, though his voice was still soft and easily missed.
Ebert gave him a scowl, clearly no more pleasant in the morning than he was at any other time of day and rummaged through the basket, examining each spool of wool before grunting brutishly and pulled out his purse.
"Yer wool's good," he growled. "Shame yer not."
Sighing gruffly, Rumplestiltskin replied, half begging, "Just tell me what you'll take for it and I'll be out of your hair."
Ebert pulled out a silver coin and a few copper ones and tossed them Rumplestiltskin's way. He scrambled to catch and collect them, holding the pieces in his hand with reverence. He looked up at the man with wide, grateful eyes. "Thank you!" He exclaimed as he recounted the money in his hand. It was more than he'd held in some time, the silver shining in his palm like a beacon of hope. He could do much with this, he knew, and he was already calculating how much he could save and how much he would spend.
"You've made yer money, now get outta my way," Ebert snarled. "Yer ugly mutt'll keep away the other customers."
Rumplestiltskin nodded, not bothering to mind the harsh tone of the man and made his way back through the square. He walked past the bakery, and where the day before he'd been so distraught over the poor profit he'd made to notice the smell, today his senses were more alert, and the smell of fresh bread and pastries filled his nose, causing his mouth to water. A small cake wouldn't cost more than a couple shillings, and he had that plus the silver coin he cherished deeply, so he decided a small treat was in order, his good mood preventing his usual good judgment from keeping him from wasting even one shilling.
He entered the small bakery. The smell was wonderful and he eyed the cakes and breads hungrily, unable to decide on what he wanted to try the most.
A woman came out to greet him, wiping her hands on an old rag. "See something you like?" She asked and Rumplestiltskin knew that even though she no doubt knew who he was, she would not be as rude as Ebert.
He pointed to a sweet cake, and requested it. She handed it to him and he placed in in his basket then offered her two of his shillings. She took them with a hesitant half-smile and then turned away. He knew he was not welcome now that she'd received his money so he left as quickly as he could, determined to go home, enjoy his treat and then get back to work. He would need to purchase some more lamb's wool from the local farm, and that trip was a good half days journey, if he was able to catch the farmer on a good day and purchase the wool for a reasonable price.
He trudged back home, his spirits lowered but his appetite roaring now that he knew he had something pleasant to eat. So wrapped up in thoughts of his treat, he failed to notice the young woman walking the opposite direction of him until it was too late. They bumped into each other, and in her surprise she let go of bundle she was carrying, and the parchments scattered to the ground. He looked at her in horror, then down to the mess on the ground, knelt down and began collecting the papers, mumbling numerous apologizes.
The girl knelt down beside him and began picking up the items as well, smiling and assuring him that it was certainly not a problem. "I'm clumsy anyway," she expressed as she took the parchments he had collected for her. They stood and he stared at her with burning cheeks. Of all the people he would collide with and send sprawling, it would be her. The one girl he longed to notice him; and she finally had, though he had made a complete fool of himself.
"I do apologize," he said again, cursing himself for being unable to say anything else. "I should watch where I'm going."
"It's all right," she said with a giggle. "I should do the same." She focused her gaze on him for a moment before asking, "You're Rumplestiltskin, right? The spinner?"
He nodded, swallowing heavily and wishing he weren't so foolish. "Yes," he said, "I am."
She smiled. "My father speaks well of your wool. He claims that you have a real talent for the wheel."
He opened his mouth to thank her but she interrupted, "Oh, where are my manners! I'm-"
"Belle," he answered, then wished he hadn't.
She blinked in surprise and he tried not to sigh aloud at his foolishness. "I see you around the village," he said sheepishly. "You help your father."
She nodded. "I do. I was sent to purchase more parchment and ink. We never seem to be able to keep enough!"
He said nothing in return, but shifted nervously. After a moment he spoke, unsure of where the words were coming from, "I bought a cake. From the bakery," he said knowing he sounded foolish, "Would you perhaps like to share it with me?"
She seemed conflicted, and shifted the parchment in her arms. "I have to get this to my father," she said apologetically. "Another time, perhaps?"
He bit back his disappointment and nodded. "Yes, perhaps." He knew there would not be another time; this would be the only cake he would be able to afford for the year.
She smiled and stepped around him. "I'm sorry, but I must go. Papa is expecting me back. I hope you enjoy your cake!"
He nodded, his tongue tangled behind his lips. She turned and walked away and he watched as her figure shrank as she made her way through the village to reach her father. Rumplestiltskin sighed. He'd watched Belle from a distance for a long while, and she never failed to take his breath away. She was a becoming young woman, kind and generous and he doubted she would ever give him a second glance. He could only image all the younger, more attractive and amiable boys who no doubt vied for and received her attention. And why would she pay attention to him, with so many other – better – options? It was true that she was not rich, but her father's occupation offered them more income than many villagers, and he knew that her father would not allow his daughter to marry a man who could barely provide for himself, let alone a wife as well.
He resigned himself to eating his cake alone, a prospect that now seemed less enjoyable now that he knew he could have shared it with the lovely Belle, and he returned to his shack, where he placed the cake on a plate, suddenly not quite so hungry after all.
Rumplestiltskin decided to postpone his trip to the sheep farmer he where bought his wool. He could wait one more day, especially now that he had an entire silver piece to work with. The prospect of all her could do with that little silver piece lifted his spirits. Perhaps he could buy a large amount of wool and make an equally large profit. He was sometimes able to get the wool for a good price, and he felt sure that he could manage to do so tomorrow. He felt his confidence lift slightly, then chastised himself for allowing the money to get to his head. "Don't expect too much," he reminded himself, "Or you'll be disappointed."
He piddled around his home, straightening up the messes he'd left the night before when he'd been too tired and downtrodden to worry about tidiness. He took pride in his little shack. He'd inherited it from the spinsters who raised him and he worked hard to ensure that it was a sturdy and tidy place. It was his only sanctuary, the only place where he felt welcome and somewhat at ease. It would not do to treat it like a pig's sty.
He had just finished his chores and was about to prepare for his journey the next day when he heard a soft knock at his door. He paused. No one ever came to see him, not unless they absolutely had to, and that was rare at best. He did not know who could want something of him, especially now that it was growing dark; but he straightened out his clothing to make himself look presentable and made his way to his door. He felt his jaw drop slightly when he saw Belle standing there, arms crossed in front of her and looking somewhat sheepish.
"Belle!" He exclaimed in surprise. "What are you doing here?"
She offered him a small smile and replied, "I know this isn't exactly proper, but I feel bad about running off like this afternoon. I just wanted to come by and apologize for my rudeness. Perhaps we could talk for a bit?"
He watched her for a moment, not believing that she was standing before him, asking to spend time with him. Never in all his dreams had he actually believed Belle, the most lovely girl in the village, would ever look at him.
He'd gone to her father's shop before, needing his services. Being one of the few literate men in the village, her father, Maurice, was not nobility of any kind, but he was well off as far as the town understood. He charged reasonably, and he was skilled in a variety of trades, having briefly served in the king's army as a lad. When he'd left the service, he returned to the village where he'd grown up and put the skills he acquired while he'd been away to good use.
It made him quite a respected and wealthy man.
His daughter, who had always been an exceptionally bright child, had grown up under her father's tutelage and had learned to read and write at an early age - something not many villagers were able to do, and certainly not the women. Many knew enough to sign their name, but just barely, and recently Belle had taken to teaching the children their letters and how to spell and write their names.
She did it for fun.
Rumplestiltskin recalled the first time he's ever seen her. She had been just fourteen at the time, barely old enough to be considered for marriage, and he'd known in that instant that if he ever gathered enough courage to pursue a wife, he would pursue her. He had yet to say a word to her, though, knowing it would end in heartache. Her father would never allow her to marry someone such as he.
And yet here she stood at his doorstep, wanting to be invited inside and he couldn't find the words to neither summon her in nor send her away. Though sending her away was the last thing he ever wanted to do. Finally, he recovered enough to motion her inside, and she smiled brightly as she stepped past him, into the shabby home he now detested. It would never be good enough for someone like Belle and he cursed his poverty and his inability to make more for himself.
He wanted to be the kind of man Belle wanted to be with. Not the kind she came to visit out of pity.
She looked around for a moment, then turned back and offered him another charming smile. "Your home is lovely," she declared, and he must have given her an incredulous look because she pressed on, "I'm serious," she said. "You take care of your home. It's quite lovely."
"Thank you," he managed to choke out, his throat suddenly dry and in need of refreshing.
They stood awkwardly for a moment until finally Rumplestiltskin collected himself and gestured nervously over to the table on which the cake sat.
"I, um," he stuttered, "I hadn't gotten around to eating it yet. I've been…busy." He cleared his throat nervously and continued, "Would you, um, like to share it with me?"
She smiled. "That would be nice. Thank you," she said as she made herself comfortable on one of the chairs near her. Rumple watched her, amazed that she was here, and when she looked up at him expectantly he stumbled over to the table, retrieved a small cutting knife, and sliced the cake in two.
He grabbed another clay plate, slid one piece onto it and made his way to her. He offered her the bigger piece, desperate to please her, and she took it from him with a nod of thanks. They ate in silence for a moment and Rumplestiltskin treasured every bite. It had been a long time since he had indulged in such a treat, and now that he had Belle here to share it with him, he wondered if things could possibly get any better.
"The summer solstice celebration begins tomorrow evening," Belle mused aloud. Rumplestiltskin glanced up at her with surprise. He'd forgotten about the solstice. It would be a great party, with food and dancing and merriment all throughout the night. He usually went, but only for a couple hours before returning home to his lonesomeness.
"Are you going?" Rumplestiltskin asked, kicking himself for asking such an obvious question. Of course she was going. She'd been the one to bring it up.
If she noticed his foolishness, she did not seem to mind. "I am," she said with a smile, "I look forward to it every year."
He nodded, taking another small bite of his cake. He wondered if he should ask her to spend time with him during the festival, but he reminded himself that he was a coward – a poor coward – and she no doubt had already received plenty of lads wishing for a moment of her time. But then, she was here and perhaps the thought of her agreeing to let him escort her was not so farfetched after all.
"This may seem rather forward," he said with a nervous cough, "And I apologize if I offend. And you can most certainly say no, but would you permit me to escort you there?"
He swallowed hard, waiting for her rejection. He was sure it would come. He risked a glance at her, blinking in surprise to see that she was staring at him with a large smile. Could it be she wanted to spend time with him? "It's not forward at all!" She exclaimed. "I would love to have you accompany me." He exhaled sharply, disbelief gripping him. She'd said yes?
Convinced he'd heard her wrong, he heard himself ask, "Are you sure? I'm not the most well-liked man in the village."
She rolled her eyes. "Oh, fie. Let them think what they will. If they don't take the time to get to know you, then what right do they have to say hateful things about you. You are kind, from what I've seen, and I would be more than happy to let you accompany me."
He grinned a toothy grin and no longer cared how foolish he looked. Belle had agreed to let him spend time with her at the festival and suddenly he felt his loneliness and bitterness melt away. She had agreed to spend time in his company. She had chosen him over everyone else. He'd never felt so wanted. So welcome.
She glanced at him and blushed. "Do you dance?"
He blinked. "Not normally, no."
She nodded and he could see disappointment flash through her eyes. "Did you want to dance tomorrow?" He asked cautiously. She glanced up at him and smiled sheepishly.
"Now I'm the one being forward," she chuckled. "But I would – only if you want to though! I have no desire to make you uncomfortable."
"I would like nothing more than to dance with you," he declared loudly, then flung his hand over his mouth as he realized how ridiculous he'd sounded. He was a foolish man, but somehow his idiocy shone when Belle was near. He wanted nothing more than to bury his head between his legs and pretend he hadn't just blurted out something so silly.
Belle giggled and his cheeks burned. She stood and carried her plate back to the table, and set it down with care. Turning back around, she made her way to the door and paused, rocking on her heels.
"I should return home," she whispered at length. "Father will be worried if I do not return soon. He doesn't know I'm here."
Rumplestiltskin stood and joined her at the door. "I have no wish to get you in trouble," He said softly.
"Don't worry about me," she said gently. She reached for the door then paused again and glanced back to him, "I'll see you tomorrow evening?"
"Yes," he breathed. She smiled one last time and then she was gone.
He shut the door and pushed the lock in place, securing the door before moving to prepare for bed. He would rise early and rush to the farmer's lot, where he would gather as much wool as he could carry, then be home by noon. He would need to go to the river as well and gather water so that he could bathe. He wanted to look his best for the festival tomorrow, and more importantly, for Belle.
Author's Notes:
I do not own Once Upon a Time or any of its characters. Some dialogue in this story is taken directly from the episodes. I claim no ownership of those lines. All original characters, events, and places belong to me.
I hope you like it so far!
Thank you for your reviews, follows, and favorites! I am not the best about replying to reviews, but know that I appreciate them all!
Chapter 3 will be up November 1st!