After a long night of Rumple internally grumbling about his predicament and Belle reading until she passed out, Belle awoke with a yawn and indulgent stretch to find the Dark One still sat at the small desk where he'd been last night. That they both pretended she'd not been snoring and drooling lightly onto her pillow, was unusual politeness on his end and embarrassment on hers. 'Did he even sleep?' Belle asked herself while she brushed her hair out of her face. The sun had long since risen and Ranga's market was in full swing, downstairs she heard the morning chatter of patrons wanting their breakfast, but Rumple remained deathly silent.
"Good morning, Rumpelstiltskin." She finally said after stifling another yawn.
He didn't face her. "Is it?"
Belle sighed: the demon lord clearly wasn't a morning person – but then he didn't seem much of an afternoon or evening person either. Slowly she got out of bed to start her day, washed her face and under the slave collar as best she could in the wash basin, then reached for her golden dress only to discover it gone from the coat hook where she'd left it. Instead, the chestnut-haired princess found a burgundy leather outfit fit for any adventurer and a set of brown boots neatly placed up against the wall by the door. The outfit wasn't worth nearly as much as her gown, but it was well crafted and, when Belle brushed her pale fingers over the leather, she found it surprisingly soft to the touch.
Curiously, she turned to the quiet demon lord. "Is this – is this for me?"
Finally he moved from the desk chair, stood and turned to face her only to immediately give her his back when he saw she wore only her chemise: Rumple really was the furthest thing from a monster in Belle's mind.
"It is, unless you'd rather continue walking about in that gilded tent."
"Thank you, it's lovely."
A split pause, hardly noticeable. "It's no matter."
When she lifted the outfit off the hook Belle also discovered a chain mail vest designed with a woman's chest in mind. Armor of any type wasn't cheep so it alone had probably made a rather hefty dent in the money they'd made from their first quest with the Guild.
"Hurry up and get dressed, then go get us some breakfast. I'll join you shortly." With that he returned to his desk and the several pages of notes he'd apparently made during the night.
Knowing he was done talking, Belle set her new outfit down on the bed and got ready. For a moment Belle had worried her slave collar would glow, but Rumple hadn't said the words with the intent to command so she was thankfully not forced to rush dressing. She'd never worn anything so form-hugging before and, though grateful to have something significantly more practical to travel in, she couldn't quite shake the naked feeling. The chain mail vest was lighter than she'd expected, an obvious weight to a teenager who'd never worn any before, but hadn't left her as over-encumbered as she'd anticipated. Everything went well, right up until it came to tightening her burgundy top with the laces on her back; had she been at Kalecaster Castle she'd have had many a maid to assist, but in that tiny inn room, all she had was the First Demon Lord.
"Em, Rumpelstiltskin, would you please lace me up? This is a little loose."
He swivelled in the wooden chair like a father irritated their child kept bothering them while they worked, but he didn't refuse. Had she not turned her head so she could pull her long hair out the way, she'd have spotted Rumple's unique eyes rake up and down her slender body wrapped in the burgundy leather. Quickly he shook his head and aided her while touching the eighteen-year-old enslaved to him as little as was physically possible. Her beauty was unrivalled but it wasn't for the likes of him: Belle just thought he'd decided to be gentlemanly. Had she asked Gaston, he'd have used it as an excuse to rub his hands all over her, to squeeze places he shouldn't have and kiss what he thought he owned.
Once finished, Rumple backed away from the princess only to be treated to her sweet smile and words of thanks, he waved that thanks off.
"Go on, get breakfast."
Belle took the hint and headed off downstairs. Her new clothes were rather comfortable and the boots significantly more forgiving than the satin slippers she'd been wearing before. The fact he'd provided chain mail as well told Belle two things; first was that he cared about her safety which was both reassuring and refreshing; second was that the only armorer Belle had seen was four shops down on the other side of the street to the inn, so at least they could get that far apart without her being punished by the collar.
Downstairs nobody took notice of Belle, which was pleasant after all the stares her gown had caused. An older woman entered Belle's line of sight then behind the counter and flashed a bright smile. Her hair was short and white, her eyes blue behind wire glasses similar to those of Mister Zule's and the necklace she wore looked handmade.
"You look like an adventurer now, much better than that fancy dress of yours."
Belle's brow furrowed questioningly. "I'm sorry, have we met?"
"Oh where are my manners? I'm Missus Potts, I own the place. You and your master paid my son for your room. I saw that fancy dress of yours just in passing."
"It's nice to meet you, Missus Potts."
"I guess it would be even nicer if I got you some breakfast, yes?"
Belle nodded. "Yes, thank you. Two plates."
"Of course." Missus Potts smiled almost matronly. "And how is that grumpy demon master of yours today, dear?"
"I don't think he slept."
The hubbub continued around them but Missus Potts' long hum still reached Belle just fine.
"I'll bring some nice sweet tea over as well then. On the house."
Before Belle could thank the older woman for her kindness, she'd wandered off into the kitchen and Belle was left to glance around the inn. As a child she'd loved reading of adventure, of mythical places like Ja'carna but, as a girl of eighteen, she realized that watching the people of Ranga go about their morning was an adventure in itself. Everyone seemed happy, some grumbled about their jobs but there weren't any expressions of despair or fear. Of course this was Dorovoth, King Artem's kingdom, but Belle hoped her father's people enjoyed their mornings much as those before her did. Dorovoth's peaceful, inclusive nature was something to be admired.
"Mornin' beautiful." Belle snapped out of her thoughts to see a pantherian man with big orange ears and one of the fluffiest tails she'd ever seen smiling down at her, that smile died a quick death though once he spotted her collar. "Oh, yer one o' them girls who gets horny bein' a slave."
Scandalized; Belle's eyes widened. "Excuse me?!"
"Nah, nothin' wrong wi' it." He shrugged. "Yer master loan ya out? Get a pretty penny fer ya."
Suddenly the pantherian was off his feet as if lifted by an invisible hand and a horrific pressure crushed his throat slowly. In an instant the whole inn fell silent, some even reached for their weapons uncertain what was happening.
"You speak with respect when you talk to or about her." Rumple growled. "For your own safety, I recommend never speaking again. Perhaps I should rip your tongue out for good measure."
Sensing tensions rising in the other patrons, Belle rushed to the demon lord and rested a hand atop his arm while the pantherian continued to choke.
"Rumpelstiltskin, please don't kill him." She'd seen just how capable he was of killing. When he didn't respond she tried again. "Please, you don't have to do this."
"I don't have to, but I think I'd like to. Demon lords do evil things after all."
The term 'demon lords' terrified some and caused others to totally unsheathe their weapons. Belle though, having expected such a reaction, quickly insisted to everybody he was joking, that he had a terrible sense of humor and was simply joking. Finally, Rumple did release the pantherian who collapsed to the floor with a thud. Rumple bent down causing his double gold adventurer chain to spill free from his shirt and, amazingly, that did more to ease people back into their seats than Belle insisting Rumple had made a bad joke had. He peered at the pantherian who'd dared to ask if he'd loan Belle out like a plaything.
"Maybe I'll settle for terror though. Your lesson is to treat women with some respect or you'll find me at the foot of your bed." Rumple stared at the terrified pantherian a moment. "Now, have you learned your lesson?" The man nodded frantically. "Good. Thank Belle, she is the reason you get to live today, then get out."
"Th- thank you, miss."
Then the pantherian scurried away like the pathetic little weasel he was. Rumple didn't seem to care everybody was still watching them, or that offhandedly claiming to be a demon lord usually put people in a stab-y mood. However, Missus Potts soon diffused any of the agitation in the room when she loudly thanked Rumple for getting rid of 'that woman-hungry toerag' who'd apparently been hitting on every woman in the inn on and off for months. Seeing a woman like Missus Potts apparently convinced there wasn't another demon lord in their midst had soon had people return to their meals and the chatter started up again. Belle had, of course, understood everybody's reaction to Rumple and the words 'demon lords', but he wasn't anything like Halinox, Ivosanch or Ravavena.
With the want for the whole situation to just be over, Belle rested her hand on Rumple's arm once more and guided him over to a dark table at the very back of the inn where they could sit down, less than a minute later Missus Potts delivered their breakfasts and that tea she'd spoken of, though apparently her son had made it.
"Mister, I get you're a powerful adventurer and all, but please don't play demon lord again, you'll frighten away my customers and I'll have to raise your rent."
"Not playing, dearie."
She didn't respond to that, just returned to the kitchen while Rumple poured himself some tea while Belle took up her knife and fork.
"Missus Potts is right, you know, it would be better for you to not mention the fact your the Dark One. People will only panic and I don't want us starting a diplomatic incident with Dorovoth. My papa has enough problems and Gaston would surely use this all to his advantage."
Rumple sipped his tea only to immediately put it back down with disgust. "That is the single worst cup of tea I have ever had the misfortune to drink."
"It can't be that bad," insisted the Princess.
"It's akin to muddy swill rung out from the establishment's finest dish rag."
Much to his surprise, Belle breathed out a rather unladylike laugh that she stifled behind her hand. She was the only one who laughed at his quips but he didn't want to dwell on that. Dark eyes glanced at his breakfast; perfectly sizzled bacon, it had been so very long. One positive about Dreymyr was the food, their food did smell heavenly. He couldn't quite remember the last time he'd eaten in a tavern or inn, not the sort of thing the Dark One needed to commit to memory, but he found it was nice to not be alone.
Only when the tea was gone and Belle's plate was almost cleaned did she speak again, her voice light and lyrical.
"Are we going on another quest today?"
"No," he said. One word and nothing more which had Belle roll her eyes.
"Then what are we doing today?"
"Back to Zule's bookshop, possibly some foraging."
Belle didn't really know why he'd suddenly want to take up foraging when there were more than enough shops and market stalls around Ranga, but she'd certainly not turn down a trip back to the bookshop.
As the last bite of breakfast entered Belle's mouth, Rumple stood and headed out of the inn back to the bookshop with Belle forced to hurry after him chewing as she went. Mister Zule's shop was only a few streets over from the Teapot Inn, on what a metal sign bolted to a brick wall indicated was Honey Bear Land, so it didn't take very long to walk there. Just as it came into sight Belle found herself realizing just how many Watchers there were walking around.
"Is it safe for us to stay here? Won't Gaston come looking?"
"More than likely but we are in Dorovoth not Avonlea so your wanna-be king has no power here. Of course he'll plot something new. Whatever he comes up with, he still can't go marching troops in."
"Doesn't stop him hiring mercenaries or, heaven's forbid, the House of Red Coats."
Rumple came to a dead stop in the street only a few steps from Mister Zule's purple door and let his head fall to the side questioningly.
"What in the Enchanted Forest is the House of Red Coats?"
"… a guild of assassins."
Rumple sighed deeply. "Wonderful, this place has a guild for everything. Still, assassins are easily dealt with."
Apparently done with that topic, they entered the shop and Rumple walked right up to the counter where Mister Zule had been reading a tome while absent-mindedly stroking a hand through his beard.
"Your books on magic and potions, where are they?"
Having been a little taken aback by Rumple's quick demand, it took a second for the old man to answer.
"Em, I mostly stock fiction and history, but there are some at the very back down that row there." He gestured off to the right by a window and Rumple wasted no time wandered down there.
Belle smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry about him, sir, he hasn't slept."
"That's quite all right, young lady. Did you like the book your master bought you the other day?"
It was a little strange to hear people refer to Rumple as her master when he didn't and had insisted she didn't either; there wasn't any way of turning that assumption off though, not with the collar around her throat.
"Oh yes! Very much, I'm almost finished."
Mister Zule's eyebrows shot up. "Already? My, you are a quick reader."
Belle smiled softly. "I've always loved to read. I'm up to Velevonne currently."
"My lovely new granddaughter-in-law is from Worynheim. She has lots of stories to tell about Velevonne and the storms they get off the War Cry Sea. Wonderful girl, Anna is her name." There and then Belle decided she rather liked Rodrick Zule, he was just a friendly old man with a passion for literature, how could Belle not like him? "I have some other books on dragons if you're interested."
"Yes!" Belle lit up. "I'd be delighted."
As he rounded the counter, Mister Zule said: "Gives you something do do while your master browses."
Meanwhile, Rumple combed through the available books. He'd gotten a map and a method of making coin until he figured out how to spin gold again, he'd also gained a basic understanding of how Dreymyr's people functioned. It was Dreymyr's laws of magic that he lacked; he'd been up all night testing various spells to varying degrees of success – to be honest, picking up that pantherian with wind magic had been more luck than judgement – and it seemed only his elemental magic was accessible to him, that and his teleportation of course. Magic and potions were what he needed to study, the more he understood, the quicker he'd return to full power.
Rumple didn't so much as glance away from the various books until he heard Belle laugh distantly, couldn't help pausing to appreciate how lovely a sound it was. She'd taken to the enslavement collar rather well, any other princess would have still been crying, demanding and begging, but not Belle du Marchand it would seem. A strange princess by all accounts. 'A pretty princess' muttered his mind, but Rumple was quick to push that all away and returned to selecting tomes from the tiny herbalism section. He yanked one from its shelf and flicked through until demon lord root caught his eye; three pages speaking of how deadly it was and how to handle it, while a fourth held a beautiful illustration of the knotted black root itself.
With his stack of research material decided upon, Rumple took them back to the counter. Normally he sent Jefferson to acquire things for him or got them during his deals, but he doubted deals would be as easily stumbled upon in Dreymyr than in other realms, and besides, Mister Zule's shop was convenient.
The old man stood at his counter with Belle, the two of them chatting and hunched over a book. To be perfectly frank, seeing a princess treat a commoner with quite so much consideration and genuine kindness was an unusual sight. He'd been alive for hundreds of years and could count on one scaly hands the number of princesses who would have shown the same respect to anybody without a noble rank.
"Would you like paying for these books or are they free today?"
Mister Zule hopped to wrapping the book stack neatly in brown paper and twine while Rumple leaned against the counter and Belle closed the book she'd been looking at. Rumple might have been the Dark One but he didn't steal from honest people just trying to earn a living: he had no desire to recall the struggles of being a lame spinner, but those memories never went away.
"This comes to seventy coppers, sir."
Rumple handed over a silver coin and awaited the change which was easily hidden away inside his coin purse. When he glanced to his side Belle was gone, seemed she'd wandered over to a bookshelf by the other window to stare wantonly. The one he'd bought her the other day had indeed kept her rather peacefully quiet, that had been a boon.
"Well pick one already then, Belle." She actually startled that time. "We don't have all day."
"Are you sure?"
His silence was apparently all it took to encourage her, and Belle soon selected a book bound in a brown leather so dark it was almost black. As soon as Belle set it on the counter Mister Zule wrapped it up just as he had with Rumple's books.
"That's another seven coppers."
It was only when the demon lord placed the handful of coins down on the counter that Belle realized she actually had very little understanding of how much things cost in the real world. She'd told Rumple that six coppers for their evening meal was a reasonable price, but she didn't actually know that, she'd based her conclusion on a novel she'd read a few weeks back where the main character had been charged five coppers for a meal. At home there had always been food provided for her, she'd never paid for it. Yes, her mother had always insisted on food being sent to the poor along with medical care and Belle had continued after Queen Colette's death, but she'd never really needed to know the price of all of it. She shook those thoughts from her mind, Rumple had to learn about Dreymyr so Belle could damn well learn more about currency and how regular people used it.
With a wave of his hand the books vanished back to the inn and Mister Zule gasped then quickly pushed his glasses back up his long nose.
"You can move objects? You really do have a gold rank like the lady said."
Rumple fished his chain out from his shirt and flashed it with a smirk. "Double."
If everyone in Dreymyr and their dog insisted on having titles and classifications, Rumple would flaunt his for nothing more than his own amusement.
"Very impressive, sir."
"Hmm." He slipped an arm around Belle's waist. "Come along, things to do."
Belle managed to throw a goodbye over her shoulder just before the shop's door closed behind them. On the way back to the inn they passed by a street performer who had puppets dancing around a stage for the delight of children, and Belle couldn't help being reminded of her eighth birthday when her father had brought performers of all kinds to entertain her and her friends. Back at the inn, Rumple investigated his purchases, Belle stared out the little window as more performers began to gather for what Missus Potts had told her was the start of Ranga's monthly fair. A fair which had been started by the Weiss family who'd wished to soften Ranga's public appearance after the Adventurers Guild had constructed their headquarters there. Travelling entertainers would be sure to pass through Ranga for the occasion to entertain the children and pocket some coin between fancy parties for nobles and rich merchants.
"Go watch it all." Belle glanced to the Dark One curiously. "I'm going to be studying the new books, so go do as you please."
"But I have to stay close." She brushed her fingers against her collar as if he'd somehow forgotten about it.
"I tested that while you were asleep. I know that you can get as far as the bakery down the street and the butchers up the street, venture further at your own risk. Go see the puppets or whatever is going on out there." Ten copper coins were set on the small desk in a neat stack then, all glinted in that dull way copper did. "There you go, entertain yourself."
Belle wasn't simple, actually rather intelligent, so she knew Rumple was just getting rid of her so he could examine his books uninterrupted, but it was still nice of him to let her go. Her father had always kept her separate from the public for propriety's sake, Gaston had kept her locked up in the castle because he thought her an object he could treat as he pleased. Rumple however, the demon lord who she was literally forced to obey, allowed her freedom and treated her like a person. He treated her well in a begrudging sort of way and certainly wasn't evil. Had he been evil, he'd have undoubtedly used her to sate each of his filthy whims. The word Belle thought of most when she looked at the First Demon Lord was … lonely. As a child she'd read every book about demon lords she could get her tiny hands on, they were horror stories but Belle had liked the fright. Maybe she'd been a weird kid after all. There was no point dwelling on any of that though so, with a smile, she took the copper coins and rested her hand on his arm for what must have been the third time that day.
"Thank you. I won't go too far, promise."
Outside, Belle slowly made her way through the growing crowd and stalls, a much easier task in her new outfit. Children giggled while their parents chatted and vendors peddled there wares. A wonderful scent of freshly baked apples had filled the street since she and Rumple had returned to the inn and Belle hoped she found the stall selling it soon. However, her search for sweet treats got interrupted when she spotted a puppet act telling the tale of Antosha's Merry Adventurers: a fairy tale about a gold-ranked adventurer and his party who'd slayed the last basilisk, a story Belle's mother had read to her as a child. Nobody in Ranga had the first clue who Belle was and she found the anonymity was almost soothing. As she watched nobody looked at her strangely; it was nice not to be a princess for a while. She'd not forgotten the turmoil Avonlea had been left in, her father's odd behavior, her brother's illness, and she knew it would all get worse as long as Gaston and Tvon had her father's ear. Rumpelstiltskin had promised his aid though, and she believed he'd save her family and her people. Still, to not be a royal for a brief time did wonders to lift the weight off her shoulders.
She watched the cheerful heroic display the puppets put up while a calico half-pantherian told the story and, just for a short while, forgot about everything, even the collar around her throat. For the length of that story she was just an girl like any other, and all that mattered in the world was stories and childish things. Eventually though, that moment ended and another began. Once the half-pantherian had finished and the puppeteer had gotten his characters to bow, Belle had clapped politely then dispersed with everybody else to go in search of those apples. Blue eyes purer than any ocean peered at this and that as she wandered the stalls, some had jewelry and knick-knacks while others sold food – she never did find the source of the sweet apple scent unfortunately – there was even a man selling amulets.
Belle ground to an abrupt halt when the stones of her collar started to grow green and she quickly shuffled backward until it stopped. Sure enough, when she looked to her left, Belle found the butcher Rumple had mentioned. It seemed the rest of the monthly fair was off limits to Belle. Having bumped into her invisible boundary, Belle refused to become upset and simply made her way back through the stalls until a man selling small bags of hard candy caught her attention and, since she'd never found the apple seller, she decided the candy would serve as her sweet treat. The man had got all the candy lined up in glass jars all nice and neat so people could choose what they wanted; a rainbow of options. In the end she chose two of what the chalkboard sign said were 'regular' sized bags filled with a mix of orange, strawberry, grape and cherry candies – though most of the bag was made up of just the orange and cherry ones – and handed over four copper coins as payment: two coins for each bag. As she walked, Belle helped herself a to a taste of the tiny dark red candy and a flood of cherry washed over her tongue, a treat indeed.
Only when one of the bags of candy was mostly empty and the puppet show had run out of stories to tell did Belle return to the Teapot Inn where she was greeted by Missus Potts precariously carrying a stack of dirty dishes. Princess or not, Belle couldn't watch the old woman struggle so insisted on helping her into the kitchen with them. Apparently the dinner rush had started rather early thanks to the fun going on outside.
"Thanks for your help, dear."
Belle smiled genuinely. "Of course, always happy to help."
"Where is that demon or yours? Haven't seen him since that ruckus at breakfast."
She wasn't entirely sure what to make of Missus Potts referring to Rumple as her demon, the slave collar meant she was more his than him hers, but, in the few seconds she allowed herself to think about it, Belle found the idea of him being her demon wasn't as repulsive as one would expect.
"He's up in the room, I think he's reading about herbs."
The old woman pushed her glasses up her nose and adjusted the white mobcap she wore. "Odd pastime."
Belle shrugged absent-mindedly. "I think he's just trying to understand Dreymyr better."
That had the older woman chuckle. "You make it sound like he's from a different world or something." When Belle didn't laugh Missus Potts expression grew serious and she pulled her further into the kitchen corner where nobody could hear them. "He's a very strange-looking demon, his skin's odd and he doesn't dress like anybody else I've seen. This morning you made out that he was joking but – do I have a demon lord in my inn? Tell me plainly, girl."
Unsure what else to do, Belle nodded and confessed. "Rumpelstiltskin is the Dark One. I've seen what he can do, he's a real demon lord." Missus Potts paled, stumbled backward and clung to a counter for support, so Belle hurried to calm the woman's fears. "He isn't going to hurt you, I promise! He isn't like the others, he's powerful but he isn't evil, he's not what the stories make out. Rumple is actually very kind to me, he's helped me."
"How can he be here?" Asked Missus Potts once she'd regained her composure. "He'd have to be thousands of years old."
"He's immortal, that's all I know about it. I promise you, he doesn't want to take over or destroy kingdoms. You've seen him, he isn't evil. Most of this morning was for show, I'm sure. Chief Commander Aalto with the Guild knows about him and she put her faith in him." That might have been stretching things a little but Belle needed to get her point across and avoid them being kicked out of the Teapot Inn.
The older woman raised a white eyebrow. "A demon lord is accepted as an adventurer by her? And … I suppose you're right, he did pay without complaint and the only problem he's caused seemed to be while defending you."
Tentatively, Belle started to relax because it looked like Missus Potts wouldn't be throwing them out or reporting them to the Church so they could send the Knightly Order in with murderous intent.
"Please believe me when I say he won't hurt anyone here – well, unless they're trying to kill him or myself. I swear he isn't like the tales say."
"I believe you, dear." She looked Belle up and down as if assessing something a moment. "You're more than just his slave as well, aren't you? Your hair and skin are too nice to be a low-born, and we all saw that fancy dress of yours. I'm not normally one to pry, dear, so I won't force you. If you say that Rumpelstiltskin is the Dark One then I shall believe you. He's a strange man and I believe on judging people based on their actions, not what others allege. I have my faith, but I've always had doubts about those that run the Church and how they treat the demi-humans; especially after my sister married a grasswalker." She pushed her glasses up her nose yet again. "The pair of you can stay."
"As long as he behaves?"
Missus Potts chuckled. "That's about the sum of it."
They spoke for a few more moments and Missus Potts lay down some pretty strict ground rules. In reality Missus Potts wouldn't stand a chance were she to pick a fight with Rumple, but the feistiness and determination in her eyes had Belle wonder if Missus Potts knew that.
Feeling as though she'd just dodged an explosive, Belle returned upstairs to the room slowly, floorboards creaked and the sound of people outside crept in through an open window on the stairs. As soon as she pushed the door open Belle regretted it due to the pungent, foul stench that had permeated the room. She coughed terribly as she rushed to the window to pushed it open so the room could vent.
"How are you not unconscious?" Asked the girl of eighteen as she wafted a hand in front of her nose. "It smells terrible in here."
Rumple didn't bother looking up from his work at the desk; books lay open on various pages and he'd managed to scrounge up a small bowl and numerous glass vials – probably last night while she'd slept – that now stood in neat rows filled with potions of several colors; for a moment she was reminded of the candy jars back at the stall.
"Have you been making potions all day?"
"Yes." He replied unhelpfully.
"Why?"
With a dramatic sigh he fell back in his chair and finally gazed up at her. "Because I may be immortal but you clearly are not and that collar means I can't just leave you here, you have to come with me." Rumple thrust a finger down at the potions. "If you have these, then you can heal yourself and protect yourself while I'm occupied."
Belle's irritated expression softened at that. Yes, he'd made out she was a burden, but he'd gone to the trouble of protecting her despite his magic being faulty. At least one of those colorful concoctions was a healing potion and he'd made it for her and her alone. This man truly wasn't a monster, the Church didn't know what it was talking about. With a gentle smile she perched on the desk's corner, one of the few spots not covered in potion vials or books, and pointed to one of the vials. "What does the blue-y one do?"
"It's so you can cause a distraction. According to these books, Dwarf's Breath is a poison, but I found I could use it to make a cloud of smoke that will have people fighting each other instead of attacking you." Those unusual eyes of his fixed on Belle then for a moment seriously. "Don't breath it in yourself."
She rolled her eyes. "I'll do my best."
Rumple just let out an indecipherable noise and got back to work. Where he'd gotten all the ingredients was a mystery since he couldn't make it to the apothecary without punishing Belle, but, if she had to guess, Belle would assume he'd sent Chip out with a list and a promise of coin: her mother hadn't called her 'wise as the Jade' for nothing.
For a great many moments Belle watched him work, watched the intensity of it, the way nothing seemed to distract him. She suspected this potion crafting was mostly what he did in that castle of his, that he sat brooding and making things from sun up to sun down like a hermit. A lonely hermit: there was that word again.
The sun would start to set soon and the excitement outside had already started to die down, shortly another day with a demon lord would come to an end and Belle honestly wasn't sure if their deal was any closer to being complete or not. Suddenly she remembered the spare coins so set them down on the desk in Rumple's line of sight.
"I'm not a tax man, Belle, nor am I your controlling husband. Keep your coin."
Belle didn't want to start a conversation on that topic so she simply put the coins back in her little coin pouch and placed the second candy bag down instead.
"I brought you something." He side-eyed the bag. "Thought you might like something sweet."
Instead of thanking her or even refusing them, he simply ignored her small gift entirely. "Go ask the old woman about getting a bath ready. We'll be taking another quest tomorrow, so bathe while you can."
Belle huffed in that way only a teenager was capable of because it wasn't as though she smelt. Her last bath had been several days ago but it had been at Kalecaster Castle in St. Claes with scented oils and delicate soaps. This was another way for him to rid himself of her for a short while so he could work alone. 'Not evil, but he isn't half rude.' grumbled her mind as she made her way downstairs to speak with Chip about getting a bath ready since his mother was busy in the kitchen.
Meanwhile, Rumpelstiltskin paused in his potion crafting and stretched almost obscenely allowing bones to crack and pop, that was when he finally took proper notice of the candy Belle had gifted him with. He couldn't recall the last time someone had given him a present – a proper one, not one of Regina's so-called gifts carefully engineered to hurt him. He remembered, once upon a time, he'd gotten Bae a bag for his birthday: had really pushed to make enough thread and twine to afford it. Back when he'd just been a spinner it had seemed like so much money, but Bae had been so happy and that boy's smile had fueled his soul. Bae was lost to Rumple now though, that was why he had to find a way out of Dreymyr and back to the Enchanted Forest, he'd have Regina cast the curse then finally find his son and make everything right again.
Belle returned much too soon for the Dark One's liking muttering something about Chip preparing hot water for her bath. He'd gone through the small selection of ingredients Chip had procured for him earlier, so explained to Belle he'd take a quick trip back to the apothecary while she bathed.
"But we'll be too far apart."
"Nonsense, I've been once today. The apothecary might look some distance away up a hill, but if you look at it on a map, it's basically behind the inn. Don't fret, Belle, you're fine."
He didn't wait for further comment, just poofed out of the room leaving Belle alone. Looked as though he hadn't sent Chip to the apothecary on his behalf after all. Avonlea's princess sighed because as much as he could annoy her, she had grown rather fond of him in such a small period of time.