Chapter 2 New Recruits

Rumple sat at the wheel, feeling the familiar texture of the wool being pulled just tightly enough to create thread. The wheel turning, making a small clicking sound as it went around and around, might have been distracting to those not used to it, but it was only soothing white noise to his loud thoughts.

For one thing,there was the mental checklist of everything needing to be completed so that Malcolm would have no reason to beat or berate him. Rumple had made sure all his chores were done (besides the spinning), the house ready and nothing out of place for his entrance. He didn't think it would be very soon. A victory with no village casualties was normally celebrated at the tavern, and it would most likely wouldn't be until the wee hours of the morning when he came back home.

There were two other things that filled his mind. Belle and the Blue Fury. He thought in great length over how stupid he must have sounded, and how horribly he stumbled upon each one of his words in front of Belle. As far as the dragon went, he replayed that moment over and over in his mind, as well, trying to figure out if he had really wounded the great beast, or if that was just part of his imagination. Belle said she had seen it, told him that "He did well", even included his sorry excuse for a name–the whole thing.

He was thinking of Belle, and how nice she was, and thinking how things would have gone if his words would have been smoother, or if he would have had another thing to say to have kept her there a little longer. He was thinking and listening to the sounds of the wheel, that he startled when the door came swinging open and hit the wall with a loud bang!

"Where's the runt? Sniveling boy. Dares share the same house as Malcolm the mighty." Malcolm stuttered and slurred and nearly collapsed on the floor before taking his large hands and grasping ahold of Rumples shoulders, squeezing them until Rumple would have whimpered in pain, had he not had a lot of experience with the consequences of "making a fuss".

He shoved Rumple to the side, causing him to fall off the stool. Another action he was more than used to, he stood up without noise, trying to make himself seem smaller, and to stand out less.

"Get me something to drink, boy! Be useful for something!" Malcolm shouted out at him while he went and found the only solid piece of furniture in the room. It was a great big wooden chair near the fireplace. Rumple stumbled past his small stool by the wheel and towards the kitchen, pouring his father another alcoholic beverage, something he really didn't need.

"All the other men could say something of their own children and what they did tonight." Malcolm continued to slur after he took a swig from his cup. He looked at Rumple and glared. Rumple took a couple steps back, but tried to make it look as inconspicuous as possible. "But no' me. All I've got is a boy without magic, without skill, without muscle, all he does when the fighting starts is hide here, and do housework!" His voice, while the words were still a drunken, garbled mess, became several pitches higher until the last words. At that moment, he threw his cup at Rumple. Thankfully he was also quite adjusted to dodging thrown items as well, and only felt a few of the shards as the cup shattered on its impact on the sturdy stone walls.

He had said nothing thus far. Nothing in his defense, for it would do no good. Malcolm got up and staggered to his bedroom while Rumple began cleaning up the remains of the cup. There were no sad sighs, or painful feelings of rejection. Everything was as it had always been, and always would be. Rumple, now able to get some sleep, himself, curled up on the rug by the fire, took the woven blanket he had made many years ago, covered himself and fell asleep.

–

The grass was still damp with dew when Rumple went out to the sheep the next morning. The heat from the dragons' breath was completely gone and had now been replaced with the damp, bone chilling cold. Rumple adjusted his vest, pulling it tighter around him, trying to keep himself a little warmer.

When he saw Malcolm step out of the house before noon he picked himself up in shock. Rumple did his observations. Malcolm did not look as angry as the night before, his head probably hurt a great deal, but he did not look in any worse a mood than he usually did. There was a stoic look on his face and a bag on his shoulder. Rumple looked at him curiously. When Malcolm began to walk towards him, Rumple took steps so he would not have to walk as far–no need to have him get angry when he wasn't already.

"I'm ta go with the wielders. Ruby Red's gram comes too, o' course, but we set sail this afternoon to follow what we believe is a dragon's nest."

Rumple nodded his head to show he understood. What was going on inside was more relief than anything else. Relief that he would get a chance to breathe before having to face his father and all his disappointments. He would be nothing more than Rumple the Coward still, but at least it would be just that and no smarting back and legs to add to it.

"There's a dragon fighting class starting next week, Hopper is staying behind to teach it. We've got to get some more warriors trained–we realized it's been a few years since we had a good crop of good wielders, or magicless skilled ones. I've done all I can do with you. I think you're as near worthless as they come." The words were spat out in disgust and Rumple felt the barb as it was intended. He knew full well he was worthless, but the words still hurt as much as they always did. "But Hopper thinks he can do something with you, despite my insistence otherwise. But whatever. Mad Hatter is one of the recruits and surely you can't be as bad as him, no ma'er how you do."

Rumple raised his eyebrows only slightly (still very inconspicuously) at the idea that Hatter was any worse than him. Hatter had magic, as long as there was a hat nearby, he could disappear through it and reappear somewhere else. It hadn't been tested in a battle yet, mostly because he was, well, considered mad. Hatter's father had died some years back, and the strange young man lived in a run down shack at the edge of the village, mostly living off of leaves and mushrooms. Rumple had never really talked to him before, and he wondered why he had wanted to join the recruits, but Rumple would also not argue with his father on his perceived merits over the magic wielding madman.

"So keep your time sharp like, tomorrow–seven in the morning, I heard. And for the love of all things holy, please do not make me the laughing stock of the whole village. Anyways, no more than I already am." Malcolm only needed a "Yes Malcolm" from Rumple before he sauntered off down the hill, assumingly to join the crew going off to find the dragon nest. He hoped the trip was safe, but he also hoped that it took a good long time before they came back again.

Now when he sat back down on the flat little rock overseeing the hill and therefore his flock, he had more to think on than the damp cold. As much as he appreciated Hopper, the gentle magic wielder suggesting that he be one of the recruits to learn to fight dragons, he wished the man would have stayed out of it. While he didn't like being the village coward, he certainly didn't think he was up to any bravery that would have him staring down the mouth of a dragon, no matter if he held a better weapon in his hand or not. When it came time for him to go back to his stone hut at the end of the day, he felt no better about the 'morrow than he had when his father first told him.

He told one of the little boys about his need for a shepherd for the next six weeks, and eventually went to bed with anxiety keeping him from sleeping. He couldn't bring himself to sleep in Malcolm's bed. It felt wrong, and he had enough worries on his plate, so he tossed and turned on the floor and his body felt every hard board on the floor the next day.

Even with so little sleep, his mind was wide awake in anticipation. He slung his bag over his shoulder. He put his lunch as well as a couple of weapons in his bag, not that he would need it at the practices–they supplied the weapons, but in a place like Dark Forest, it was best not to leave unprepared (even for a coward).

The trek to the village center felt both too long and too short. His thoughts had him wishing the day was over and done with, yet at the same time, he wished never to arrive. Hopper was there first to greet him, and he could see a couple of the recruits out of the corner of his eyes as he entered the entrance, before the main area where they would learn to spar.

"Welcome Rumplestiltskin." It was like Hopper, to call him by his real name. He hadn't many interactions with the man, but he had always had a soft eye and a gentle hand towards him, unlike many of the townspeople. He was still unused to being called that, first by Belle after years of only being called Rumple and now by Hopper. He wasn't nicknamed Hopper the Gentle for nothing. His powers had manifested themselves into being able to hypnotize dragons before killing them. Anytime Rumple noticed him in battle, he always got the strangest impression that the man disliked the actual battle, but when you see a dragon tear into your means of survival, something has to be done.

When Hopper spoke Rumple's name, a snicker went out and he turned his head to see Gaston (Rumple wanted to groan) and David already there. Gaston was the one who had snickered, and turned up his chin at him.

"Rumplestiltskin, is that your name? Ha! Great magician you turned out to be. At least I know becoming the Dragon Slayer of the recruits will be easy if we've got recruits like Rumple the Coward joining the group!"

Hopper scowled at the large, muscular nineteen-year-old boy. "That's enough, Gaston. There will be none of that here. You need training just as much as anyone."

David quietly looked uncomfortable and like he might need to say something in someone's defense but didn't know exactly which was the best moment and the best person to say it to. Gaston, on the other hand, didn't seem to be hurt by Hopper's censure.

"Yeah, but some of us will need more help than others." He took his arm and curled it until the muscles in his biceps raised and hardened. "And I'll leave everyone to guess which ones those are." And he continued showing off his muscles until Hopper told him "That's enough." again.

Mad Hatter came next, his vest had patches all over, his pants were shorter on one side than the other, and his hair stood up all inky black and wild and there was a large hat in his hands. His blue eyes danced with mirth, though, and when he came in he was smiling and behaving as if it were all a big game they were playing.

Next came Snow. Her skin was as pale as her name suggested, and Rumple had heard through his father that she had a bit of ice in her fingers. She had a thick vest and loose pants. Her black hair was tied up, and she looked battle ready, already.

"We should be having one more recruit." Hopper looked around him as if he were a bit worried. He was already displaying nervous ticks like biting his nails and pacing the floor. Rumple wondered if he was exactly the right person to be teaching them, but thought that the leaders knew best (And also thought that a weaker man might not be the best person to bring to a dragon's nest, even if he were a good fighter).

A few moments later a flash of blue flew through the door and nearly stumbled into Hopper.

"I'm sorry I'm late." The musical voice rang out and Rumple couldn't believe his eyes. Being a recruit was going to be mortifying, he already knew that. But it was one thing to be snickered at, and ridiculed by a few overgrown children also just learning how to fight, and another to be displaying all his failures in front of…in front of…

Rumple stood a little taller and tried not to show how insanely nervous he became all the sudden. Gaston took steps towards the blue clad figure and his smile was all large and toothy.

"Belle! I'm so glad you're one too. Now I can really show you my moves."

That's right, Belle was there, and Rumple wished he were anywhere else, and at the same time, never wanted to leave the area again.

Author's Notes:This story feels as if it is writing itself. I'm not sure if it's because the plot is already there (doubly there, since I have the plot of the show and the movie to use), or what, but it's been very easy to write. Remember that this is 'inspired by' and not a play by play of the movie, so expect some plot changes. For one thing, The character traits lend more towards their show selves and not the movie (Hiccup and Astrid).

Gaston is the annoying Snotlout though. I mean, they are basically the same person! lol
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