II

The dark sorcerer bit back a low growl as he watched his little caretaker fairly dance towards the dining table bearing the tray with their first course. His mouth watered at the thought of what culinary delights she'd be serving him that evening. He'd begun to eat more since Belle had come to the Dark Castle, and the skin no longer drew so tightly over his ribs. He felt healthier; magic and tea could only do so much. Whether or not he wished to acknowledge it, his life was better with her in it.

He had to suppress the urge to gleefully rub his hands together as she set a bowl of greens before him. Glee and anticipation gave way to wary disappointment as he surveyed the vegetation in the dish.

Rumpelstiltskin pointed at it accusingly as if the very thought of the vegetables offended him. "What's this?" he asked, staring pointedly at his little maid as she took her seat to his right.

Belle took a sip of the wine she'd already poured before he'd made his entrance and arched a brow. "Tomatoes, cucumber, watercress, radicchio and endive with a light vinaigrette. It sounded interesting in my cookbook, so I filched the ingredients from your greenhouse." Her smile widened as she lifted her fork, ready to tuck in. "I didn't think you'd mind since I would be serving them to you this evening."

He lifted his own fork and stabbed a bit of cucumber, bringing it to his nose for a delicate sniff. It didn't smell abhorrent, but rather light and refreshing, a blend of herbs and vinegar with a hint of garlic.

"Rumpel, if you don't want it, I'm sure we could skip this course and move on to the next." He was acting like a child presented with a new food and not finding it at all appealing. Next, could she expect a tantrum?

Belle ignored him for a moment, taking a bite of her salad and savoring the flavor, pleased with herself for her new discovery. She didn't know where her master had come by the cookbooks he'd presented to her, but she was happy. There were more than a few dishes she'd prepared which she'd never before sampled in her own kingdom.

Rumpelstiltskin would not be bested by his maid … his maid, damnit. He speared a large bite and shot her a smug smirk. His taste buds were doing a happy dance, but he refused to let her see how much pleasure he got from the simple dish. "It's passable."

She sighed and fought to keep herself from rolling her eyes. She felt smug satisfaction to see he cleared his bowl of every last crumb before the next course arrived, transported by the castle's magic so she didn't have to leave the table. Her wily master had been somewhat silent thus far, but that changed as he relaxed and dipped a spoon into his soup.

The mage hummed reflexively as the soup spread over his palate. His little maid had made a light broth flavored with the leftover pheasant from the night before, blended with rosemary, garlic and dill with bits of carrots and flavorful wild rice. She really was getting better in her culinary pursuits, he thought happily. It was much better than the charred bits of meat and half cooked potatoes she'd served when she'd first arrived.

"So, dearie, do tell me how you enjoyed your book," he began lightly. He was acquainted with the tome in question, and he somehow knew she hadn't liked it very much … if at all. However, Belle wasn't one to let a story go unfinished just because she wasn't happy with how it progressed.

Belle laid her spoon aside and reached for her glass, draining the small bit of wine remaining. "I didn't enjoy it overmuch. I suppose the best thing I could say about it is that it was thought provoking."

Rumpelstiltskin chuckled, eager to dive into a conversation with her about the book. When she spoke of literature, there was such fire in her eyes and passion in her voice. Her features were vibrant whether her emotions leaned towards happiness, sadness, or a myriad of others in between. Reading was a gift to her, one she refused to squander.

"Which tells me absolutely nothing. Please … elaborate if you will," he urged.

The sorcerer poured more wine into her glass as her eyes narrowed on him. "I'd be delighted … after you tell me how you came to read such a novel, hm? It doesn't seem to be the type of reading material you'd be interested in, Rumpelstiltskin."

A high-pitched giggle echoed against the vast ceiling and bounced back at her, his Dark One mask firmly in place. "Presumptuous little maid, thinking she knows her master so well."

"I know enough," Belle murmured behind her wine glass, repeating her earlier sentiment, the heat caused by the alcohol warming her and settling in the apples of her cheeks.

Rumpelstiltskin finished off the last of his soup with nary a slurp and their bowls were whisked away to be replaced with the main course of braised lamb shank and buttery gold potatoes. "I have read every book in your library, dearie," he told her solemnly, his playfulness dissolving into melancholy. "Three hundred years is a long time, and even the Dark One gets bored occasionally."

Belle reached over and rested her hand atop his, her thumb brushing lightly over his knuckles. Her heart fluttered at his soft gasp, but she didn't bring attention to it in fear he would retreat. It was always a game of advance and retreat. Most times he was as skittish as a colt. She inwardly cheered when he didn't draw away from her. She knew only too well how easy it was to lose oneself in a story when the world was cruel, and solace was offered between the pages of a book.

"But that novel in particular? I've heard you ranting about pirates, Rumpel. It surprises me you would have deemed it a worthy read."

Rumpelstiltskin popped a potato into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully, wondering if he could shock her sensibilities with the truth. Considering how well-read Belle was, he somehow doubted it. "It belonged to the queen's mother, one of her favorites, actually. Cora liked to picture herself in the role of the pirate."

Belle laid her fork down beside her plate, her appetite deserting her in light of such a mental image. "How … revolting." She bit her lip and winced, realizing too late she shouldn't speak ill of anyone above her current station. It didn't change her feelings on the subject, however. "Oh, I beg your pardon. I didn't mean –"

He waved a dismissive hand as he pushed his plate aside. "Nonsense," he assured her. "Cora really was a bit revolting. Be thankful you were never acquainted with the likes of her, my dear."

Dessert arrived while she pondered his words, her brow drawn into a puzzled frown. She had so many questions, but Belle knew it would be useless to ask and expect any answers. Her master didn't like anyone – even her – to pry into his past. He might have softened towards her in their tentative dance towards friendship, but he wasn't quite there yet.

He practically inhaled the delicate vanilla sponge cake on his plate topped with a compote made out of Belle's special spiced peaches. Oh, yes, she was definitely the best deal he'd ever made. "Now, tell me your thoughts on the book, dearie. I'm eager to hear your viewpoint. Specifically, those of the protagonist."

Belle took a bite of her dessert and then pushed it away in favor of another sip of wine. "He was a swine," she hissed, her eyes flashing with furious molten fire. "It doesn't matter what drove him into the life he chose for himself, it gave him no right to abduct her. Then he outright tricked her into bed with him. It made no difference how many plots she formed to thwart him, he always got what he wanted. He took away her free will! It was disgusting."

Rumpelstiltskin's brow shot up in surprise as he watched her flush with angry, righteous indignation. She was glorious. "And yet, the girl claimed to have fallen in love with him despite it all."

Belle drained her glass of the last dregs of wine and set it down a bit too forcefully on the table. She pushed her chair back and quickly gained her feet. "I'm thinking the author must have been smoking some questionable shrubbery to have thought Tristan's behavior was acceptable, and for Bettina to accept that and claim to love him … it just made her look stupid and pathetic. It reminds me of … nevermind."

The mage watched Belle turn and retreat to stand before the hearth, her arms wrapping around her middle as if she were trying to hold herself together. He quickly rose to follow, contrite that he'd upset her. He came to stand inches from her as he tentatively rested his hands atop her tense shoulders.

"Belle …" he whispered, her name a lilting prayer on his lips. His voice sounded strange to his ears, a deep timbre which reminded him of the man he'd once been. He simply felt she needed more from him, more than the demon trickster he portrayed to everyone else. "I didn't mean –"

Belle leaned back against him, seeking his warmth and the comfort of his presence. "It was just a book, Rumpel. You wanted to know what I thought about it. I know you meant no harm."

His little caretaker was the bravest, kindest soul he'd ever known aside from his own son, and to hear the unmistakable sound of defeat in her sweet voice made his protective instincts rush to the fore. "Who hurt you, Belle?"

She leaned back further into his embrace, pulling his hands from her shoulders to wrap firmly about her waist. She wanted so much to turn in his arms and burrow against his chest, but she was sore afraid it might cause him to shut down and run from her. "No one."

His arms tightened around her as his breath fanned hotly against her ear. "The lumbering ox who tried to shield you from me … your betrothed. What did he do to you, princess?"

Belle shivered as his hands flattened against her belly, and she had to fight to focus, to concentrate on her answer. "Nothing, I swear. It's what he would have done to me once we were married. He would have done the same thing as the pirate … taken what he wanted regardless of my wishes. He would have destroyed me, bit by bit, day by day. I would have been nothing but chattel to him, a vessel to slake his lust and produce his many sons. My thoughts and feelings would have been worthless in his eyes, and I would have died a little inside every day."

"Which is why it was so easy to give yourself over to the deal I offered," he spat bitterly, pulling away and turning her to face him. "Don't you see … you traded one monster for another."

Her laughter was light and musical and had his brow wrinkling in confusion. "Oh, Rumpel, there is no comparison. The mask of the Dark One is not enough to hide the gentle man you are within. Yes, there is a darkness in you, but everyone has to battle their own dark nature to balance their light." She smoothed her hands over his waistcoat, feeling lighter than she had moments before. "You are my master, but you do not own me …"

When he opened his mouth to protest to the contrary, she covered his lips with gentle fingers.

"You respect me and show me kindness. You have never lifted a finger to do me harm, despite the many times you've threatened to do so. You've protected me and sheltered me." She lifted up on her toes and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, a blush riding high on her own as his features softened into a look of unadulterated awe … and perhaps a touch of devotion. "You are not Rumpelstiltskin, the Dark One … not to me. You are Rumpelstiltskin, my master, but also my friend."

He was lost under her spell, the threads woven tightly around them. Lost to the sincerity in her eyes and the sweet words which flowed from her cupid's bow mouth. He was enraptured by her own brand of magic. He was forced to clear his throat more than once before he could manage to respond. "And what of your betrothed? If you weren't in love with him, surely the man you were destined to share your life could be considered your friend."

The sorcerer cursed inwardly as her gaze hardened to chips of ice.

"No." Belle toyed with a button on his waistcoat as she lowered her eyes to focus on it. "Gaston is lovely in face and form, every woman's fantasy of the perfect man, perfect husband material. He's left a string of broken hearts in every province of the Enchanted Forest. My papa," she grimaced, "he was set upon a match between us, wanting a strong alliance to help us prepare for the threat of the ogres. I had heard of Gaston's exploits."

"Let me guess," he teased, his nose wrinkling. "You were less than impressed. Clever girl."

She chuckled bitterly. "Indeed. Yet, papa was insistent that I get to know the man for myself instead of listening to rumors and gossip. Gaston thought he would be able to change my mind, so I consented to allow him to join me on my morning ride. I would give him a chance to prove himself."

Rumpelstiltskin led her over to the sofa and sat beside her before conjuring a tea tray. Tea always made her feel better, and gave her something to do with her fidgeting hands. It was a trait they shared. "How long did it take for you to decide he wouldn't suit? Did you at least give him until noon, dearie?"

Belle accepted the cup from him and nudged her shoulder against his. "Oh, stop. I thought you wanted to hear this story."

He took a long sip from his chipped cup and waved an elegant hand. "Oh, indeed. Please continue. You have me on tenterhooks."

She frowned down into the dark brew in her cup, a crease forming between her brows as her lips pressed into a thin line. "We encountered an ogre child near the forest on our western border. He'd fallen into a hunter's pit and was trapped. Gaston wanted to kill him … a child. It was an ogre and therefore evil to his way of thinking, I suppose. Gaston didn't know what his intentions were, he just wanted to slay it like some beast, another trophy for his hunting lodge, no doubt.

"My mother," her voice cracked with emotion as she thought of her beloved parent, and she scooted closer to Rumpelstiltskin, seeking his warmth and the comfort of his presence next to her. "My mother was a brilliant archivist. She kept records of magical artifacts in the kingdom, extensive records. It was easy to find what I needed in order to determine the ogre's intentions. It was only an hour's ride away."

Rumpelstiltskin dragged himself out of the rapturous fugue he'd found himself in from her close proximity, perking up at the mention of magical artifacts. That would bear closer examination when he wasn't so befuddled by her closeness. "Wh-what was?"

"The mirror of souls," she replied. "If one stares into the mirror with a pure heart, an innocent heart, it will cast a normal reflection. If there is evil in one's heart, a demonic glow will show in the person's eyes in their reflection. It was perfect to determine whether or not the ogre child's intentions toward us were harmful or innocent. I raced home and collected my father and his knights, but when we returned to the pit where Gaston was charged with watching over the ogre child, we found Gaston barely conscious, and the child gone."

Rumpelstiltskin set his cup on the tray and leaned back once more, his turn to nudge her shoulder with his own as he said, "I smell a rat."

Belle huffed bitterly and scrubbed her hands over her face before turning to look at her master. "A great big smelly one at that. Gaston claimed the ogre had attacked him, which whipped everyone into a frenzy and sent them on the hunt to avenge their fallen comrade," she said with a roll of her eyes.

"And you're the only one to have seen your suitor for who he is, hm?" he asked, toying with an errant curl where it rested on her shoulder. He knew he had no right to put his hands upon her person, yet he couldn't resist the lure.

Belle ignored the warmth spreading through her at the gesture and linked her arm through his, her head coming to rest against his shoulder. It wasn't often he allowed her so far into his personal space, but when he did, she took full advantage of the opportunity. He was her friend whether he wished to admit it or not, and she reveled in his closeness.

She nodded in answer to his question. "When the hunting party found and cornered the ogre, there was evidence of torture upon his person. Gaston set the whole thing up. I tried to use the mirror, to show my father the creatures true intentions … Rumpel, he was frightened," she told him on a shuddering breath, her lower lip trembling at the remembrance.

Rumpelstiltskin released the curl twined around his fingers and reached back to retrieve the tartan throw from the back of the sofa, draping it over Belle's shivering form. "Be at ease, dearling," he crooned, surprising himself at how easy it was to allow the endearment past his lips. The curse clamored relentlessly against the inside of his skull, but he ignored it. At the moment, nothing seemed as important as his little maid and the story she was weaving around them.

"The mirror …" she continued when she'd wrestled her emotions into some semblance of normalcy " … it showed us the real monster. Unsurprisingly, it wasn't the ogre."

"Indeed not," he replied with a shrug of his expressive brow. "What confuses me, my dear, is how you wound up betrothed to the oaf if you'd already proved his less than stellar character."

Belle snorted. "I was blamed for allowing the ogre to escape. Father was certain the war began because of ill treatment of their young, and if I hadn't allowed him to get away …" her voice trailed away, letting Rumpelstiltskin draw his own conclusions. "He didn't outright accuse me, but I could hear it in his voice. He left me little choice but to accept Gaston's suit so we would have the soldiers we'd need to defeat the threat. It was the only way to save our kingdom, he claimed."

The Dark One seethed silently, forcing himself to remain in a state of relaxation so as not to alarm the sweet girl nestled so pleasantly against his side. Instead, he went for a bit of levity. "At least you didn't have to go through with the wedding," he teased. "It would have raised all sorts of awkward questions when you accepted my deal."

Belle raised her head from his shoulder and grinned cheekily. "Oh, yes, undoubtedly. As if it weren't bad enough when you began spouting off about your rather large estate. I thought my father was going to swallow his tongue."

The mage giggled in response.

She sighed and moved to gather their tea things back onto the tray. "Well, I have to see to the dishes before I'm able to retire," she stated, her grin still firmly upon her lips. "I apologize for such morbid conversation, but thank you for a pleasant evening, Rumpelstiltskin."

His fingers brushed hers lightly when she would have stood with the tray, stilling her movements. "Leave it, dearie. I've kept you late enough as it is. The castle's magic will see to the dishes."

Belle laid a hand against the sleeve of his silk shirt, and he could feel her warmth burn into his skin. It was almost more than he could bear to resist the urge to lean into her touch.

"Are you sure? It's no trouble," she assured him.

"Would you rather I change my mind?" he growled, assuming his role as beast of the castle. "Perhaps add a few dozen pots and pans to what's already littering the sink?"

Belle shot him an indulgent smile and swatted him playfully. "If you insist," she agreed to his offer, giving his arm a light squeeze. "Who am I to argue with my master's wishes. Goodnight, Rumpelstiltskin."

He watched her go, already missing her warmth and companionship … her innocent touch. Gods, what was he going to do with her? She'd been in the Dark Castle for almost a year and he could barely remember what his life had been like before she'd brought her light and laughter to chase away the shadows of his existence.

His heart pounded against his ribs to the cadence of her name … Merciful Zeus, he was doomed!

*.*.*

Belle groaned and clutched her pillow closer as a gentle tone sounded in her bedroom. It wasn't annoying or piercing – thank the gods – but rather pleasant, one her master had magically installed to wake her each morning. It had been late in the evening when she'd left Rumpelstiltskin in the great hall, but instead of retiring immediately, she'd allowed herself to get caught up in another novel. She kept a great many piled atop her nightstand. One chapter had turned into five and then she'd found she couldn't put it aside until she'd finished.

She forced herself into a sitting position and scrubbed her hands over her face, trying to rid herself of the last vestiges of sleep. Despite wishing she could have a few more hours to catch up on her lost rest, she needed to see to breakfast, her master's tea, the laundry …

Her eyes grew wide as saucers as her gaze fell upon the gown laid across the foot of her bed. She searched her room for some sign of Rumpelstiltskin, but she knew she wouldn't find him. Since removing Belle from the dungeon and giving her the opulent suite, she called her own, he had yet to set foot inside.

Happiness surged in her breast as she scooted to the foot of the bed and ran a hand over the pristine white day gown of fine muslin with its square neckline. Lace trimmed the cap sleeves and intricately embroidered roses adorned the simple band at the empire waist and along the hem. He'd even thought to include white leather half boots to match. But why?

Belle's brow furrowed as she drew her hand back. Why would Rumpelstiltskin gift her with such a lovely frock? It would be ruined before half her chores were done that morning. That thought alone had her mind wandering down so many paths it made her dizzy.

The tone sounded again, reminding her she had no time to spend dawdling. Her master had placed the gown there for a reason – even if she couldn't quite fathom what it might be – and she'd be a fool to ignore its existence. Besides, she'd never forgive herself if she hurt his feelings. It finally seemed as if he was warming up to her, and she would do nothing to ruin their tentative friendship.

*.*.*

Rumpelstiltskin paced the fine Agrabahan carpet before the hearth in the great hall, the chipped cup holding his cooling tea nearly forgotten in his hand. The enormous oak dining table – why had he needed such a large showpiece again? – held their breakfast, nearly every imaginable dish spread out on his fine china. Yet still he waited. He glanced up at the clock on the mantel and forced himself to suppress a growl. Where was the darling girl?

His curse chortled loudly, the cackle reverberating against the inside of his skull. If you want the girl, why not just take her? She belongs to you, after all, by her own word, bound by the terms of the deal.

She'll be down momentarily.

Zoso snorted. Instead of marching up there and showing her just who her master is, you're down here cooling your heels like a whipped puppy. Did she somehow gain control of your dagger, spinner?

Rumpelstiltskin did growl at that, though he refused to allow the curse to bait him to anger. It wouldn't do to have Belle come down and take his rage out on her. He couldn't take the risk that he might hurt her.

Bugger off.

The former Dark One retreated abruptly, but it brought Rumpelstiltskin no relief, not when he heard the smooth as silk voice to follow.

How sweet. How endearing. How … disappointing. Nimue simpered softly, the cadence of her tone one of menace rather than soothing. Tell me, Rumpelstiltskin, how much longer do you think you can cling to your humanity? Long enough to find your darling son? You realize your infatuation with your little maid is distracting you from your ultimate goal, don't you?

He couldn't begin to formulate an answer. The first Dark One couldn't care less about his plans, wishing them to fruition merely a means to an end. She wanted nothing more than to snuff out the light once and for all, to bring the Dark Ones back from the underworld to wreak havoc on the land en masse. It was destruction in its purest form, and he'd have none of it. Not as long as his love for Baelfire beat steadily within the blackened husk of his heart.

Even now, he refused to allow the demons inhabiting his head to ruin the day he had planned for his little caretaker. He gave a mental shrug as he pushed the voices to the back of his mind. So, what if he'd softened towards Belle? She'd taken the deal with no expectations to live past the first day, and then promptly turned his world upside down. Without perusing his burgeoning feelings in depth, he admitted to himself that she was his friend … the first he'd had in a long time if he didn't count the hatter. And for some reason he rarely did, especially since the man had retired from portal jumping and settled down to raise his daughter.

Rumpelstiltskin took a sip of his tea and made a face of disgust before vanishing the brew and setting the cup down on the table. All thought of preparing himself another cup vanished as the double doors leading into the great hall opened to admit Belle.

She looked fresh and innocent in the frock he'd procured for her, a lovely blush riding high on her cheeks and her hair curled to fall over her left shoulder. Stunningly beautiful were the only words to come to mind as her cerulean eyes took him in from top to toe. In the space of a heartbeat, her teeth began worrying her lower lip and he felt heat suffuse his body, his flesh tightening over muscle and sinew.

"What's wrong, dearie?" he asked, glancing down at himself to make sure he hadn't forgotten to fasten anything crucial. He brushed a hand over his vest to check for lint.

Belle's blush deepened. "I don't think I've ever seen you wear white," she murmured, in wont of something to say. The white silk flattered the green-gold hue of his skin, and the deep red waistcoat with its gold trim accentuated it perfectly. The brown leather trousers clung to him like a second skin and disappeared into soft black suede boots. He looked softer than she'd ever seen him, not a hint of spikes or dragon hide in sight. She took a step closer and peered up at him from beneath her lashes. "You look wonderful, Rumpel."

He cleared his throat before he was able to speak, caught up as he was in her spell. "Yes, ah … well …"

She gripped his hand in hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Thank you for my dress. It's beyond lovely, but …"

His brows shot to his hairline in askance, words failing him as he continued to bask in her beauty. He was quite fond of her modest blue work dresses, but the white of her gown only enhanced the healthy glow of her alabaster skin. Gods, he was way in over his head. What the hell was I thinking?!

"What's the occasion? I somehow doubt you would want me to ruin it scrubbing the floor," she remarked with liberal cheek.

Someone up there was looking out for him after all, he thought as her quip seemed to bring him out of his fog. "Bold as brass this morning, you are, little maid," the imp jeered. "I should be adding to your list of duties since you couldn't rouse yourself to prepare my breakfast."

Belle merely smiled before he flourished a hand towards the table and drew her attention. "Oh, Rumpel, that looks amazing. I am sorry I overslept."

Rumpelstiltskin seated her to his left and dropped into his own seat before taking her plate and filling it for her. She, in turn, prepared them each a cup of tea. It made him wonder when they'd become quite so domestic. "Yes, well, don't let it happen again. What if I'd been mired down in work without time to pick up your slack, hm? Even dark ones need to eat occasionally, m'dear."

Belle nibbled delicately on a triangle of toast and let him bluster on. She suspected he acted in such a way to hide the more human emotions of which she knew him capable. She found herself ogling her master in his softer attire more and more as she ate her breakfast, her curiosity almost more than she could stand. However, she knew better than to ask him to sate it. She'd learned rather quickly he wouldn't reveal his plans until he was good and ready and not a moment before.

By the time they'd finished their meal and sat back to enjoy one last cup of tea, Belle was nearly on the edge of her seat. "Rumpelstiltskin …"

The corner of his mouth turned up into a half moon grin. He had no doubt she was fit to burst with anticipation. "Yes, m'dear?" he replied, biting back a giggle.

Belle reached out to pluck at his cuff as she nibbled anxiously at her lip. "I don't want to seem ungrateful, but …"

Rumpelstiltskin leaned forward in his chair, nearly nose to nose with his caretaker. "It's killing you, isn't it, not knowing what I've planned for today?"

"Yes!" she cried, and it was her turn to chuckle, genuine mirth gleaming in her bright eyes. "Won't you tell me?"

"I suppose," he murmured in a bored tone. It wouldn't dampen her curiosity in the least, but it pleased him greatly to toy with her so playfully.

"Rumpel," she fairly whined when he wasn't forthcoming.

"How would you like to accompany me to Avonlea? I've decided to accept your dear papa's invitation."

The mage watched a myriad of emotions cross her features … surprise, elation, wariness and then sadness before she shook her head. "No."

"No? What do you mean, no?" he asked. He hadn't been so flummoxed by her since she'd broken his teacup and tried to explain away the very sizable chip with 'you can hardly see it'.

She drew in a deep breath as she tried to fight against the bitter sting behind her eyes. "I don't want to go. The Dark Castle is my home," she explained determinedly, "I don't want you to break our deal."

"Belle …"

"NO!" She bolted from her chair and through the doors before he could gather his wits to figure out why she was so upset.

… break our deal.

The sorcerer stared down at the wood grain pattern in the tabletop in confusion for several long moments before everything clicked. She thinks I'm going to break our deal and return her to her father, her kingdom. Oh, hell no! Then even more disturbing, she wants to stay … with me? She thinks of the Dark Castle as her home. He felt as if someone had kicked him in the gut as the air rushed out of his lungs. As if things aren't complicated enough.

Rumpelstiltskin transported to the corridor just outside her suite of rooms and swallowed hard when he could hear muffled sobs from within. It wasn't his fault she'd misconstrued his intentions. It wasn't as if he had volunteered to bring her to visit her family before, too selfish to allow her companionship aside from himself. Of course, she'd think he had an ulterior motive.

He rapped gently against the oak barrier, calling softly, "Belle, dearie, might I come in?"

"No! I've nothing to say to you right now, Rumpelstiltskin," she returned. He winced, unable to ignore the betrayal coloring her tone.

"Belle, it's imperative I speak with you. It was simply a misunder - "

"Go away!"

In all the time she'd lived at the Dark Castle, she'd never had the audacity to send him away from her. Even when he'd been downright beastly to her at the beginning, she hadn't been brave enough to try. "Now, see here!"

Another sob reached his ears, and he felt his heart stutter painfully to know he'd been the cause. In the meantime, daylight was burning and they'd yet to leave the castle. Hoping she could come to forgive him for intruding upon her private sanctuary, he poofed into her room in a swirl of magic which left him standing a safe distance at the foot of her bed.

"Must you weep so loudly?" he lamented, fighting the urge to place his hands over his ears. "It sounds like glass breaking." He knew he shouldn't have said it the second the words left his traitorous mouth.

Belle sat up with a shriek of outrage and tossed a pillow at his head. "How dare you! First you want to be rid of me and then you belittle me because I might be upset with your decision." A deep scowl pierced him as she sat up to face him, only for it to be ruined as her lip gave a little wibble. To hide it, she flounced back over and buried her face in her remaining pillows.

Rumpelstiltskin moved to sit on the side of the bed and brushed her hair away from her face. "I wasn't going to break our deal, Belle. I just –"

"You weren't?" she asked, cutting him off as she stared up at him through red-rimmed eyes.

"Of course not. Good help is so hard to find, after all," he trilled with a flourish of his hand. Her raised brow and hard look had him backtracking quickly. "We don't have to go if you'd rather not. I just thought perhaps you'd like to see your father, let him see I haven't boiled you up in the cookpot yet."

"Swear to it. Rumpelstiltskin never goes back on his word or a deal, so if you promise not to leave me in Avonlea, I'll trust you."

The mage placed his right hand over his heart and gave her a solemn nod. "On my honor, m'dear. I promise not to leave you in Avonlea without a way for you to return to the Dark Castle." He removed the bracelet he'd charmed from the pocket of his waistcoat and held it out to her. "I was going to give this to you before you decided to flee the great hall."

Belle gasped as she reached out to take the bangle from him, admiring the cluster of diamonds and perfectly matched pearls. "It's beautiful," she breathed, sliding it onto her wrist. A sheen of red magic lit the bracelet momentarily before fading.

"It's charmed," he informed her. "Should you find yourself in trouble, turn it once to the right and it will bring you to my side, once to the left and it will transport you home to the Dark Castle."

"You suspect trouble? I thought you were going to get a lay of the land, so to speak," she frowned, her cerulean eyes deeply troubled.

Rumpelstiltskin shrugged. "I might have popped in for a few minutes to quietly observe. He seems sincere, but –"

"But you won't know unless we actually accept his invitation," she finished for him. Belle bit her lip and toyed with a lock of her hair where it curled over her shoulder. She wanted so badly to trust her father was genuine in his desire to have her master visit, but something niggled at the back of her mind. She curled her hand around his upper arm and pulled herself closer. "Are you certain you wish to go? I'll admit I'd love to see my papa, but there is so much room for treachery. You don't know his council like I do."

He giggled as he dislodged her arm and rose to his feet, desperately needing to put some distance between them. "Dearie, I assure you, they are no match for the Dark One." He clapped his hands together, rubbing them in anticipation. "Now, shall we be off, or would you rather sit here debating for the rest of the morning. You've already delayed us with your little tantrum."

"My tantrum!?"

He arched a brow as she prepared to blow her top once more. "Well, there's no need to shout."