IV

The king's expression was a combination of perplexed and a little disgusted – as if he'd been sucking lemons – as he watched the Dark One and Avonlea's former princess entertain the children gathered at their feet. It hadn't taken long for word to spread, and little ones from all over the city had come to see their darling princess. Some had even been so bold as to venture up to the dark sorcerer and thank him for saving them from the ogres and bringing their fathers and brothers home from the front.

He was used to seeing Belle mother the children. She'd often spent time in the city square - at this very fountain – reading to the little ones. She would bring her basket of treats from the palace kitchens and spread her love and generosity to one and all. What had him in such a state of bemusement was how she interacted with the Dark One. The ancient sorcerer was supposed to be her lord and master, yet she treated him more as if he were her dearest friend, her fingers straying to his hand or sleeve more often than not as she read from the book he'd conjured for her.

Even more surprising was the way the Dark One sat beside her with a gentle smile on his scaled face, almost as if it didn't bother him to take a day off from his deals and evil deeds to do magic tricks for a few handfuls of children. Wasn't he purported to steal children? His daughter had always been a bit odd – not that it made him love her less – but the being who sat beside her on the edge of the fountain couldn't be more different than the one who'd come to Avonlea that fateful day and made a deal for Belle.

His closest friend and advisor chuckled next to him. "It seems we may have underestimated our dear princess, sire. We haven't given her enough credit for her intelligence. Not at all," Chancellor Badeaux murmured jovially.

"What is that supposed to mean?" the king huffed. "Belle has always been brilliant. Gods know she's spent enough time in that library of hers. She could easily outthink the both of us, no doubt."

"I meant no disrespect, Moe, and you know it," he returned, dropping his liege's title to speak more directly, friend to friend. "I simply never thought she would turn her charms on the Dark One. Belle isn't the type to use her womanly wiles on a man. She'd much prefer to use her wits."

"Come again?" Maurice choked. "Just what are you implying?"

The chancellor jerked his chin in Rumpelstiltskin's direction and smiled. "He's completely besotted with her."

The king paled and shook his head. "You're barking mad, Edward!" he hissed belligerently. "Belle wouldn't … Rumpelstiltskin, no … no, you're mistaken."

Edward snorted. "Just as I was mistaken that you were head over heels for your darling Colette after she dumped a full tureen of soup in your lap and called you a dimwitted muttonhead moments after meeting you for the first time?"

"That was different."

The man arched a brow, daring the king to dispute his claim and knowing full well he couldn't. "Would it really be so bad if they fell in love? You've already proclaimed to all and sundry that the Dark One is an honored friend of Avonlea."

Maurice groaned and buried his head in one meaty hand.

"Then again, perhaps she found the mystical dagger which is rumored to be the source of his power, the one thing which would control him. Though, I doubt Belle would ever wish to hold another person in thrall. She has too much goodness in her, too much compassion for her fellows."

The king shot him a sharp look. "You really are off your gourd to speak of such things mere feet from Rumpelstiltskin's hearing. Are you looking to part with your head, my friend?"

Edward grinned unrepentantly. "I was simply speculating. What? I was bored," he waved a dismissive hand.

Maurice sighed in exasperation. "How did you know of this … was it a dagger you said?"

His friend nodded. "Belle has always enjoyed her research. She didn't have time to put it away when she made her deal with the Dark One. It was still spread out over several tables in the library when she left us. It made for interesting reading."

The king narrowed his eyes at the chancellor. "Just so long as you don't use such information against him," he warned, his tone brooking no objection. "I will not have you doing anything which might put my daughter or our kingdom in danger."

"Moe, you are my friend. I know I may be a horse's ass ninety percent of the time, but you and your family mean more to me than anything," Edward vowed sincerely. "I would never jeopardize our princess' well-being."

*.*.*

"Come, dearie," Rumpelstiltskin beckoned, offering his arm to Belle, "at the rate you're going, it will take more than a month to survey the improvements to your kingdom."

Maurice gulped back a groan as he watched his daughter's eyes narrow dangerously.

"Rumpel, it's barely noon. We have loads of time," she retorted with a cheeky wink. "It's not my fault my people missed me. Perhaps we should visit more often."

The mage opened his mouth, but no sound emerged. He snapped his lips closed where they pressed into a thin line.

Belle merely peered up at him, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

"You seem to want to test my patience today, little maid," he growled lowly. The effect was ruined, however, because there was no heat behind his words.

The king broke out in a sweat, fearing for Belle's life when her laughter rang out and surrounded them.

"As if I don't already do that on a daily basis … master," she grinned unrepentantly. Before Rumpelstiltskin could respond, she released his arm and retreated a bit to fall into step with her father. "Papa, you haven't told me … have you contacted Uncle Hugh to have his sons brought to the city? You're going to have to choose an heir eventually, you know."

Maurice continued to the great stone wall surrounding the city and led her up the stone stairs to the battlements above so he could show her the outlying pastures of wheat, grain, and rye with their shoots nearly ready for harvest. "It should be you, my girl. It's been difficult trying to decide which of my brother's children should take on your birthright and rule."

Belle walked ahead of Rumpelstiltskin as the chancellor had held him back to point out several features of the rejuvenated landscape. "Papa, any of his three sons would be well suited … especially Gabriel."

"The youngest?" her father asked, his brow furrowed.

"Mhmm. Aron is happy with his trade, Bernard is a celebrated warrior. His defense of the southern province held for much longer than we anticipated during the war. Clearly, he is happiest when leading our armies. But Gabriel is a scholar. He's the smartest of the lot and could put his brilliance to practical use. He's also level-headed enough not to allow his emotions to make him impulsive and wise enough not to blindly follow every piece of advice his advisors offer without thinking it through."

As usual, Maurice could see the wisdom of her words. It wasn't the first time she'd offered well-meaning advice for the good of their kingdom. It also made the loss of her birthright sting that much more. His Belle should sit on the throne as she had always been meant to, but he couldn't ask her to beg Rumpelstiltskin to release her from their deal. She would never go back on her word … not only because of her duty to her people, but because of her honor.

"Gabriel, hm? I will send a letter to my brother and have him bring his son to the palace. I won't force it on my nephew, however." The king sighed. "I'm finding it better to present a choice rather than a decree or ultimatum."

Belle chuckled. "Papa! You have been reading my letters. I'm quite flattered something I've said has finally penetrated that stubborn head of yours. I –"

Rumpelstiltskin felt the cold husk of blackened muscle in his chest stutter to a stop before the scream fully burst from Belle's lips. His whole world slowed down to milliseconds, and for the first time in several centuries, he felt his curse as more of a blessing. For only with magic could he have moved quickly enough to save her.

He'd been standing next to the chancellor, listening with half an ear as he kept Belle within his sights from the corner of his eye, while the man expounded on fertilizer and crop rotation or some such drivel. It only took a moment for her dainty boot-clad foot to find a loose stone and send her so off balance, she began to fall. Rumpelstiltskin watched as the king reached out to grab her arm, her fingers grazing his as she tumbled over the wall. He couldn't breathe, so great was his fear, and the only thing which shocked him into action was the devastating thought of losing her.

In the space of a blink – no magic smoke necessary – he transported himself off the battlements and onto the ground below, arms spread wide to catch his little dearie. She landed with a small oomph, the breath rushing from her lungs in terror, and he tightened his arms around her, holding her securely to his body. Shouts from above were drowned out by the thundering of his heart as it burst into a furious beat, each palpitation echoing his relief.

He didn't remember his eyes closing, yet they sprang open at the touch of her hand against his weathered cheek, her thumb brushing soothingly in a gentle caress.

"You saved me," Belle whispered, cerulean eyes wet with unshed tears and filled with gratitude. "You're my hero, Rumpelstiltskin."

The breath caught in his chest as she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face against his throat. Her body was wracked with tremors, and he could feel each and every one reverberate deeply in his tortured soul. He needed to get her somewhere safe where she could rest a moment without the noise of the crowd which was beginning to gather or the bellows of the chancellor and the king talking over one another in an effort to ascertain the welfare of the princess.

Maurice almost stumbled as he came down the ladder and hurriedly made his way to where the Dark One stood holding Belle, hands reaching to pluck her from her savior's arms. "Oh, Belle … my darling girl … please, are you alright?"

When she felt her father's grasping hands reach to take her from Rumpelstiltskin, she only clung tighter to her master. A small whimper escaped her, and she could feel the mage take a step back, refusing to relinquish her to her father's care. "Rumpel?"

"It will be alright, dearest," he whispered against her hair. To the king he barked, "We will retire to the palace where Belle may recover from her fright. I'm sure a bracing cup of tea will set her to rights in no time atall."

His grip never loosened as the chancellor had an open carriage brought around for the trip back to the palace. Rumpelstiltskin could have easily transported the four of them with magic, but why deny himself the pleasure of having his little maid so soft and willing in his arms, a pleasure he would cherish for the rest of his days.

The trip through the city was shorter than what he'd hoped, but he couldn't allow himself to be selfish. Not when his Belle still trembled, and her pallor was a ghostly hue. The carriage had barely come to a full halt before he was stepping down and bearing her inside. A sharp order to a footman had the man scurrying away to fetch tea and a light repast while Chancellor Badeaux hurried ahead to lead the way to what appeared to be the king's private solarium. Apparently, Maurice was a horticulturist, he mused.

Rumpelstiltskin set Belle down gently on the settee in a small sitting area where she reluctantly let go of him. "There now, dearie, just lie still and get your color back. You're safe now," he soothed, rubbing the back of her hand with gentle strokes.

Belle smiled tremulously and drew in a shuddering breath. "Thank you, Rumpel. If you hadn't –"

He brushed a lock of hair behind her ear where it had escaped her coiffure and then waved a hand airily. "It's no matter. Can't have you coming to harm. Who would make my favorite tarts, hm?"

She swatted his arm playfully. "You're incorrigible."

"And you look like you're feeling better," he returned, gathering himself and rising to his feet to put a bit of distance between them as if he'd suddenly remembered they weren't alone. "Ah! And here's your tea, dearie. We'll see how you're faring after a cup and a wee bit of rest. If you're well, we shall continue the tour."

His eyes narrowed suspiciously when he caught an odd look shared between the king and his chancellor. He kept his own counsel, however, when they settled themselves in their seats and fussed over their princess. The mage settled himself next to his maid and prepared himself a cup of tea, watching her for any signs of distress. He was coming to regret this trip more and more.

After listening to the men prattle for half an hour, he was wishing for the solitude and peace of mind only spinning could bring, but Belle seemed fully recovered and eager to continue her visit. He didn't want to disappoint her.

You should have let her fall, Zoso sneered in the back of his mind. Then you wouldn't be sitting here wasting the day away instead of actually working towards your goals. I'm sure there's a desperate soul in need of a deal just waiting –

Rumpelstiltskin ignored him, his gaze flickering downward to the brew in his cup.

She's nothing but a distraction, pulling you away from your quest. Perhaps you should leave Belle here. Break the deal you made with her. She's making you weak.

A sinister smile curled his lips and with a show of power, he banished his ever-present nemesis to the furthest, darkest recesses of his mind. He forced it into a lead lined box and envisioned the biggest padlock he could think of to keep the demon caged within. You are the weak one. Without me, you would be nothing … chained in the vault with nothing but eternal torment to sustain you. Do. Not. Test. Me. And keep my Belle's name out of your mouth, demon.

The warm touch of Belle's fingertips caressing the back of his hand brought him out of his dark thoughts. "Rumpel, are you well?" she asked, her worried gaze focused upon him, concern shining within the azure depths of her lovely eyes.

"Of course, my dear. Merely thinking about how late it's getting and how much longer you wish to dawdle about," he drawled lazily, arching a teasing look at her. A faint blush to her cheeks accompanied the sweet smile she beamed his way, and he warmed to see the color returning to her fair skin. He rose to his feet and extended a hand to her. "Come now so we may finish the tour before the hour grows too late."

Chancellor Badeaux was only too eager to agree. "Shall I have the carriage brought back around?" he asked, his dark eyes falling to the princess and her master.

"Indeed, my lord," Belle answered as she dipped into a small curtsey.

Maurice smiled when his daughter focused her gaze upon him. "Before we go, Belle, there's something I'd like to show you. It's absolutely exquisite … and quite valuable. I didn't think there was such a thing left in the realm, so you can imagine my surprise when I traded for it."

Belle chuckled at his excitement, but no one could mistake the curiosity in her eyes. "Something here in the solarium?"

"Quite," he replied, taking her hand, and leading her to the area where he kept only his most prized plants, most notably his hybrid roses. "Rumpelstiltskin, please join us. It might interest you as well."

The Dark One followed behind them and fought to keep a bored expression from clouding his features. He'd never been much for plants … unless they contained some sort of magical properties. He doubted very much the monarch of some seaside kingdom would have anything of the like.

Belle gasped as she stepped into the heart of the small greenhouse attached to the solarium and took in the tall plant standing proudly in its pride of place. It was taller than a fully mature stalk of corn and as wide around as a rum barrel. "Oh, Papa, wherever did you get it?"

Maurice watched her circle around the tall plant and let out an indulgent laugh at the wonder alight on her face. "There was a man traveling through our lands looking for a place to settle. He wanted a piece of fertile farmland. In exchange, he offered a small cutting from the sapling he carried with him. Big mountain of a man," he murmured distractedly. "Seemed to be under the delusion that he'd been cursed by a witch or some such nonsense."

"And you traded with him," Belle nodded. "Do you have any idea how dangerous this is to have in your possession?! Papa, what've you done? Rumpel," she pleaded, turning to him in hopes he could explain the dangers to her knuckleheaded sire, "tell him …"

But the Dark One stood still as a statue before her, lips parted in awe and unnaturally large eyes wide in shock. He couldn't begin to tell the king of the risks of having such a plant in his kingdom or what mortal men would do to possess even one offering from it. His mind was too awhirl with thoughts of how much it would cost him to get his hands on one himself.

His eyes finally settled on Belle as he choked out, "Magic beans …"