Chapter Eight
The rain tacked at the glass while Belle sat in the library the Dark One had given her and the fire crackled in the large stone fireplace. It had been several days since he had left and she admitted she was missing him. Thunder rumbled as she looked up when she felt a cold chill move through her and she got up, placing a ribbon to save her place then put the book on the cushion. She left the room when she went quickly down the stone stairs and ran for the large front doors. She opened the large door on the left when she looked down and her heart jumped in her chest.
"No," she said as she knelt down next to the Dark One while he laid face down on the ground and rain rolled off the oilskin cloak he was wearing. She gently rolled him over as he moaned and she placed her hand against his chest. His chest rose and fell in shaking breathes as she tried to figure out how to pick him up when something poked her in the back and she turned around, seeing a small carpet floating in the air behind her. Gently lifting him up, she watched the carpet move under him then rise into the air and Belle led the carpet inside while the large door closed behind her.
Two days later
Pain…pure, white hot pain roared through the Dark One as he moaned and wanted to cry. He didn't want to move. He didn't want to wake up. He felt like he was on fire. He was hot, sick and tired.
"Easy now," the female voice said as something warm slid by his lips and swirled around his tongue. He tried to swallow, but his throat felt like it was closed over and gentle fingers rubbed his throat until he swallowed, feeling the warmth of whatever it was slid down into his stomach.
"Unh," was all he could manage to say as whoever it was wiped his lips and stroked the top of his head. The cool gentle finger felt good on his hot skin, but a cold shiver made his teeth rattle and he whimpered.
"Hush now. It's alright. You're alright," the female voice said, but he shook his head, which hurt, and closed his eyes tighter.
"I feel like I'm going to die," he moaned then heard a soft hushing noise. Something about the conversation felt familiar as he whimpered and felt soft fingers moving through his hair.
"No, you're just feverish. Rest now," was the last thing he heard as the darkness returned and he sighed, drifting off into a dreamless sleep.
A week later
"Belle," he called out as she lifted her head and placed the ribbon between the pages of the book she was reading. She got up then walked to the bed and sat down. The golden scales looked almost fluid from sweat as she reached over and picked the cloth sitting next to the wooden bowl off the night table. She placed the cloth in the cool water then rung out the cloth and gently patted the cloth against his forehead and neck. "Belle, where are you?"
"Hush now. I'm here," she said and gently patted the cloth against the sides of his face.
"I'm sorry," he moaned. She placed the cloth back into the cool water then rung out the cloth and gently patted his chest.
"There is no need to be sorry," she said softly.
"I shouldn't have come down," he said and her heart jumped in her chest.
"Yes, you should have," she said, patting the cloth against his neck and tried not to cry. "Besides, if you hadn't, I would have come up and got you. Do you remember what I said if you refused?"
"You'd tickle my feet."
"Yes."
"But, still, if I hadn't, you….," he said and she placed her finger against his chapped lips.
"Hush. Don't think about it. Go back to sleep," she said and he made a little sigh.
"Don't go," he said then sighed and drifted back to sleep. She placed the cloth back on the night table then stood up and kissed the top of his head.
"I'm not going anywhere," she whispered then sat back down, took his hand and folded their fingers together.
Two weeks later
The sunlight caused the inside of his eyelids to turn a soft brown as the Dark One opened his eyes and blinked until his vision cleared. Lifting his left hand, he saw the white cloth with a white cream sticking out from under the cloth and the cloth went down his wrist to nearly his elbow. He looked at his right hand and saw another white cloth and noticed he was also naked. Picking up the top of the bedding, he saw more white cloth wrapped around his chest, stomach and one leg as he placed the bedding down and frowned.
"Oh, you're awake," Belle said as he looked at her and she had a wooden tray in her hands. She placed the wooden tray on the floor when she sat on the edge of the bed and he moved the bedding up to his shoulders.
"Why am I naked?" he demanded and she softly smiled, moving the bedding down. She was more worried about what had happened to him while undressing him then seeing the golden scales and she checked the white cloth wrapped around his left bicep.
"How else was I going to treat your injuries?" she asked when she helped him sit up then reached down and picked up the china bowl and a silver spoon. She scooped some of the porridge onto the spoon and moved closer. He opened his mouth as she placed the spoon in his mouth then removed the spoon and he swallowed the porridge. She fed him some more porridge when he sighed and looked at the white cloth. "Do you remember what happened?"
"I went to this village to help them with some plague. I should have known it was a trap after I saw the feast they prepared for me after I had cured them. It was when I took a drink of some wine that someone used squid ink on me and I was paralyzed."
"I don't understand," she said and helped him sip on some tea. "How could squid ink hurt you?"
"Squid ink has the properties to paralyze anyone with magic and they cannot use their powers."
"Oh."
"While I was paralyzed, the village shaman took great pleasure in torturing me," he said and a shocked look appeared on her face. "Once he was satisfied, the shaman removed the squid ink and I escaped. I was too weak to retaliate, and I knew it was foolish to teleport blind, but I was in such pain and just wanted to return home."
"You ended up unconscious at the front door."
"How did you get me inside?" he asked and she fed him some more porridge.
"I wasn't sure how I was going to get you inside. All I know is the small carpet in the front hall appeared and I used the carpet to bring you up here."
"Like all things in this castle, the carpet is enchanted and knew I was in trouble."
"Ah, well, afterwards, I undressed you and dried you off."
"How did you treat my wounds?" he asked and she fed him some dry toast.
"I know you don't like me being in your workshop, but I needed things to heal you. Imagine my surprise when I only had to ask and the bottles of ointment and other things appeared. Once I had everything I needed, I came up here and treated your wounds."
"How long have I been ill?" he asked and she wiped his lips with a white napkin.
"It's been two weeks," she said and he looked at the canopy overhead. "I was really worried you were going to die."
"I'm very hard to kill," he said then made a weak giggle. He noticed the look in her eyes when he sighed and brushed the hair out of his eyes. "I do apologize. That wasn't funny."
"No, it wasn't," she said as tears threatened to fall and he pressed his lips together. Holding out his left hand, she took his hand and wrapped their fingers together. Grunting, he moved over then nodded his head and she went to lie on the bed. She snuggled closer when she carefully placed her head against his chest and he slid his left arm around her. She listened to the soft thump of his heart while he looked at the canopy and she placed her hand on his right shoulder. The fire in the large stone fireplace crackled while they laid still and he looked at her with half closed eyes. "Do you want me to move?"
"No," he said then closed his eyes and she listened to his breathing evening out and his heartbeat slow down. Yawning, she patted his shoulder then closed her eyes and a small smile spread across his face.
Avonlea
Maurice stood in front of the window while he looked out at the grey sky and had his hands behind his back. He hadn't heard word from Belle in weeks and wondered what had befallen his daughter.
"Milaird?" a voice asked as he turned and saw a guard standing in the doorway. Nodding his head, Maurice watched the guard walk closer then handed him an envelope and Maurice looked at the envelope. Nodding his head, Maurice opened the envelope as the guard left the room and Maurice walked to the high back chair, sitting down. He removed the piece of paper as he looked at the scrolled writing and frowned.
Dearest Father,
I do apologize for not writing sooner, but I have been busy.
Two weeks ago, he went to a village and a shaman used something very powerful to capture him. The shaman took great pleasure in torturing him then released him and he was barely able to return home. Father, you should have seen him. What happened to his leg was nothing compared to the burns and cuts I saw on his arms, legs and body. He was feverish and so ill, I was afraid he would die, but he survived with only the grace of the gods.
I know you aren't convinced that he is Rumple, but I saw his leg. The scales outline the scar and he has called out for me several times during fever dreams. He's doing better now, but I worry about scars and what he will do once he fully recovers. The Rumple I remember would do nothing, but he is so angry. I'll try to talk him out of taking vengeance on them, but a part of me wants him to have it.
All my love,
Belle
Maurice sighed as he re-read the letter when he folded the piece of paper and stood up, walking to the window. He had heard rumors of the village of Hamelin capturing the Dark One and he silently prayed she could talk him out of taking his revenge.
Two months later
"Hold still," Belle said with a giggle as the Dark One growled and wanted to scratch. His injuries were healed, but he hadn't been able to bathe and felt itchy. She removed the final cloth as she placed the cloth on the night table and he sighed, looking up at the canopy.
"I need a bath," he grumbled and folded his arms over his chest.
"I will prepare one for you in a few minutes," Belle said while getting off the bed and he watched her walk to the white marble tub with lion clawed feet. She had brought up some buckets of water and had heated the water over the fire. She carefully picked up the first bucket then dumped the water into the tub and he got up, walking to her. His feet felt the chill of the hard wood floor as the white flannel nightshirt swirled around his legs and he watched her until the tub was full. "There, all ready."
"Thank you. You may go," he said as she placed the bucket on the floor and smiled.
"Are you saying you don't want me to see you naked? I did undress you, you know," she said with a blank look on her face and he frowned.
"Yes, well, that was different," he said and she liked how shy he looked.
"Well, if you want to be alone," she said as she moved by him when he placed his hand on her shoulder and she stopped.
"I, uh, I would like some company," he said and she patted his hand.
"Then I will keep my back turned until you get in the tub," she said as he smiled then unbuttoned the white flannel nightshirt. The white flannel nightshirt fell to his feet as he stepped out it and slid into the water. The warm water felt good as he sank down into the tub and placed his head back against the cool marble. He waved his hand as a thick layer of bubbles spread over the water and he smiled.
"You can turn around," he said as she turned and saw the bubbles floating around him. She picked up the small wooden stool as she carried the small wooden stool to the tub and placed the stool near the tub. She went to get some towels, a washcloth and a bar of honey scented soap and walked to the tub, sitting down on the stool. The golden scales were shimmering as he looked at her with hooded eyes and she handed him the washcloth and soap. "Now I want you to bathe me."
"Will you make up your mind? First you didn't want me to see you naked and now you want me to wash you. So, just to make sure I'm clear, you want me to bathe you?" she asked.
"Yes," he said with a nod. "But without the rudeness."
"Fine," she said when she slid her hand and the washcloth into the warm water and rubbed the washcloth against the soap. He watched her as she washed his arm, wrist, hand and fingers and he sighed. "Your skin is really soft."
"Did you expect it not to be?" he asked, tilting his head to one side.
"Well, I heard some scales are hard," she said as she washed his shoulder then along his collarbones and he blinked his eyes a few times.
"They used to be," he said and she nodded her head. She wasn't sure if it was the right time to ask as she pressed her lips into a thin line and used a small cup to rinse him off.
"I was wondering. Are you going to retaliate against that village?" she asked and he frowned.
"Of course," he said and saw the anger in her eyes. "Don't you think I have the right to retaliate after what they did to me?"
"Yes, I do, but there has to be a way to retaliate that doesn't include hurting them," she said and he thought for a few minutes when he arched his eyebrows up, widened his eyes and smiled.
"You mean I should let them THINK I'm going to do something, but actually do nothing?" he asked wiggling his hands side to side.
"Yes."
"That would drive them crazy," he said then giggled and bubbles rolled down the back of his hands. He softly sighed as she washed his chest and he leaned his head back, looking at the ceiling. "Then…sometime later…I will show up and demand an apology."
"If that's what you wish," she said with a smile. He made a content sigh when she got up, moved the wooden stool down to his legs and he placed his right heel on the end of the tub. She gently washed his foot while he wiggled his toes and she noticed his toenails were painted the same color as his fingernails. She held his foot in her hand when he looked at her and titled his head to one side.
"Don't even think it, Dearie," he said then giggled and she softly laughed.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," she said as she looked back at him with a blank look on her face and he wiggled his right index finger back and forth, placing his leg back under the water.
"I do not like it when someone tickles my feet," he said as she got up and moved the wooden stool to the other side of the tub.
"I wasn't going to," she said and he gave her a doubting look. She picked up his arm when she started washing his arm, wrist, hand and fingers and he looked up at the ceiling. "Is the water warm enough?"
"Yes," he said and she placed his arm under the water.
"Sit up," she said as he sat up and she watched the bubbles floating down his back. A few minutes later she was finished bathing him and washing his hair when she stood up and picked up the large towel. She closed her eyes while listening to him getting out of the bath and he took the towel, wrapping the towel around his waist. He tapped the tip of his finger against the tip of her nose as she opened her eyes and he smiled. She watched him wave his hand as the bubbles and water vanished and she walked to the chair by the large stone fireplace. Picking up the dark blue fleece dressing gown, she walked to him then helped him put the dark blue fleece dressing gown and he tied the dark blue fleece dressing gown shut.
"You may go now," he said as she nodded her head and walked to the door. He watched her leave as the door closed behind her when he sighed and placed his hands in the pockets of the dressing gown.
"Why do you keep pushing her away?" a familiar voice asked as he walked to the large stone fireplace and watched the fire crackling on the wood.
"It's better this way," he sighed and moved his hand over his wet hair.
"For you or for her?" the voice asked and he pressed his lips together.
"Go away," he growled and balled his hands into fists.
"As you wish, but remember this. She loves you, Rumplestiltskin," the voice said as he looked at the fire then sighed, half closing his eyes.
"If she knew what I have done, she wouldn't," he sighed then turned around and found there was no one else in the room. Sighing, he waved his hands then was dressed in a light brown silk shirt, a brown leather vest, a brown leather belt, black leather trousers and black leather boots. His hair was dry as he walked to the door then left the room and the door closed slowly behind him.