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The sky turned darker as Belle paced back and forth. The only light that could be seen was from the cannon fire. “It’s over, Belle. He’s not coming.” Belle turned around to face her father. “There’s still hope, papa. He could be on his way this very moment!” Despite her hope that the Dark One would arrive, Belle was starting to lose faith. After everything Avonlea had been through, there wasn’t much time left – or the Dark One would have nothing to save. A loud knock sounded on the large oak doors. “Open it,” Maurice said, drawing his sword. Beside him, Gaston did the same. This is it, Belle thought. He’s finally come. The doors open to reveal an empty corridor. Belle was horribly dismayed – the Dark One had refused their summons. As much as she was upset, she was not surprised. Her papa and fiancé had decided that gold was to be their kingdom’s offer. No matter that we practically offered the ocean a cup of water, Belle dejected to herself. He must think of us as simpletons or pathetic. Perhaps both. Around her, the councilmen let out the breath that they had been holding. Clearly, despite Rumplestiltskin being their only hope, they were glad the feared mage did not show. Cowards, content to let others continue to die. “Well, that was a bit of a letdown.” Belle snapped out of her thoughts as she turned towards the impish voice. Seated – no, sprawled – on her father’s throne sat a golden creature, dressed in all leathers. As Belle regathered her wits, the creature – imp? man? – started to twitter again. “You sent me a message, something like, ‘Help! We’re dying, can you save us?’ Now the answer is yes, I can. Yes, I can protect your little town. For a price.” The entire time, the Dark One did not still, continuously flittering and flaunting about. Belle found the entire practice dizzying but could not do anything but follow his movements. She was afraid – who wouldn’t be in the face of the darkest mage in all the realms? She was terrified as Gaston treated the Dark One as a simple soldier, pointing his sword to and fro. Belle realized a truth that her forced fiancé did not - the Dark One, despite being a good head and a half shorter, was not an ordinary man and held the advantage. Gaston, if you put him off before he has even had a chance to speak, we need not worry about the ogres overtaking us, but the Dark One! At least the ogres would be quick about it! Luckily, the Dark One seemed to be unbothered by the knight’s attempts. Just as Belle started to calm down (as much as one could in such a situation), her father had to chime in. “We sent you a promise of gold!” Belle almost cried and rolled her eyes and died all at the same time. She could not believe that her father would continue with this idiotic plea. She had explained it to him many times already, but alas, she was Cassandra, and the councilmen were the Greeks. As she was thinking all of that, the Dark One reiterated her words to her father, nearly the same ones she had said the days prior. “Now you see, ah, I make gold.” What Belle did not anticipate were the next few words that the imp spoke. “What I want is something a bit more... special. My price... is her.” Belle felt her mouth go dry as the mage pointed his long, spindly finger towards her. Her first reaction was shock. Surely, she could not constitute as the price. Many people had called her pretty throughout her life, but of all the desperate souls the Dark One dealt with, she could not be the prettiest. I’ve never heard of the Dark One taking maidens... it has to be something else, right? But what else could I serve the purpose of? There is nothing that I could do that the Dark One would not be able to do himself. Belle’s frantic thoughts stopped again when Gaston exerted his claim over her. That reground her – fear was swapped for anger and indignation. At a time like this, Gaston still only thought of her as his pretty little bauble. Her fuming was cut short when Rumplestiltskin responded, “I wasn’t asking if she was engaged! I’m not looking for loooove... I’m looking for a caretaker. For my rather large... estate.” Belle processed his words. She slowly began to commit herself to the idea of being the caretaker of the infamous Dark Castle. She still feared the unknowns of what would happen, but her life was well worth the countless lives of her people. Mentally accepting the deal, Belle waited for her father’s formal agreement. “It’s her or no deal.” Maurice answered quickly, “Get out. Leave!” Belle was bewildered that her papa would not make a sensible, fair deal with the Dark One. She admired her father’s love but resented his stubbornness. She was not worth the lives of all their people. To make matters worse, the Dark One turned to leave and Gaston dragged her aside. Belle knew she had to take matters into her own hands. It’s now or never. “No! Wait,” Belle called out to the retreating imp, glad when he stopped. “I will go with him.” Standing tall, Belle accepts the imp’s deal. He responded simply with a maniacal giggle. Belle silently shuddered at the noise. She began to brace herself for her father’s backlash. Something even worse happened. “I forbid it.” Belle could not believe the audacity of Gaston to try and prevent her from doing her duty. “No one decides my fate but me.” They were words she had been saying every day since her mother passed, even more so since her engagement to Gaston. “I shall go.” Rumplestiltskin watched on eagerly, telling her that the deal was forever. Belle had already accepted that; now she just needed to finalize the details. It’s always in the details with him, if what I’ve read is true. "My family? My friends? They will all live?” The Dark One performed a series of gestures and bows before saying “You have my word.” “Then you have mine. I will go with you. Forever.” Belle took a deep breath in, accepting her new fate. The imp jumped in delight, having completed another deal with another desperate soul, winning a large bargain. Though, I do not know what he rejoices in. I do not know what he thinks I will be able to help him with, caretaker or not. “Belle, Belle! You cannot do this! Belle, please. You cannot go with this beast.” Belle turned back around and walked towards her father. Trying to comfort him, she placed an arm on his shoulder. In the end, she had made her choice. “Father, it’s been decided.” Tensing, Belle felt more than heard the presence behind her. “You know, she’s right. The deal is... struck.” The room was dead silent. Belle pleaded for forgiveness with her eyes and silently said her goodbyes. Her father would hopefully forgive her eventually, especially once everyone started arriving home from the fronts. It pained her that she would depart from him like this, but she had done what was best for Avonlea. Rumplestiltskin twittered into her right ear, loud enough for the whole room to hear. “Oh, congratulations on your little war!” He ended it with a high-pitched giggle. And with that, the imp walked Belle out through the oak doors. Belle became rather contemplative and melancholy. No longer am I Lady Belle of Avonlea of the Marchlands. I am now Belle, Caretaker of the Dark Castle. I suppose it has something to it. Belle let a single tear fall as her former home faded away as she was enveloped by a cloud of inky maroon smoke.
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The smoke dissipated as Belle took in her surroundings. In front of her was a grandiose palace made of dazzling white stone. Rather charming for the Dark Castle, Belle thought to herself. I half expected thorns and hellfire. “Right this way, dearie. Don’t have all day for you to gawk and stare.” Belle followed Rumplestiltskin as he walked through the main doors. They walked through a foyer, which was covered in a thin layer of dust. Maybe that’s why I’m needed here, to clear out some of this dust. Next, they arrived in a great hall. Trinkets and prizes of all sorts lined the walls. Belle wanted to run her hands over them and learn their stories. She started slowing down before she realized that the Dark One was getting further away. Great idea Belle! Touch all the artifacts and get lost in the first five minutes of being here. Picking up her pace, Belle managed to catch back up. The Dark One was silent as they traveled throughout the castle. He did not comment on his newest acquisition’s pace or open curiosity. Without a large audience, he almost seemed subdued. Perhaps I won’t constantly be dizzy from his gesturing or be bugged by his insanity for the rest of my life. After wandering through three more halls and descending two more staircases, the pair stopped outside a large, barred door. Belle wondered what the Dark One was thinking. “Where - Where are you taking me?” The impish flair returned. “Let’s call it... your room.” “My room?!” Belle could not believe it. We must have passed thirty empty, perfectly suitable rooms on our way down here. Why do I have to stay here? Then it hit her. She actually could believe that this would be her room for the rest of eternity. I did make a deal with the Dark One. He’s not exactly known for rainbows, sunshine, and hospitality. Frankly, it is better than having no room at all. Her thoughts were broken when he spoke again. “Well, it sounds a lot nicer than dungeon.” And with that, Rumplestiltskin shut and locked the door. He just has to have the last word, doesn’t he? “You can’t just leave me in here!” Belle waited for a response, but it never came. He didn’t just bring me here to die. He couldn’t have. Could he? What about all the dust gathering in the foyer? Sure, the hall and corridors were neat, but there has to be some purpose for me to become the caretaker. Belle tried again. “Hello?! Hello?” Once more, she was greeted by silence. Great. Now I’m locked in a dungeon with no clue of what will happen in the morning. Taking stock of her situation, Belle took a deep breath in. There was a thin straw pallet in the corner, a single strip window, and a plate of bread in the corner. Deciding she wasn’t hungry, Belle laid down on the pallet. It was itchy, scratchy, and uncomfortable, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She was exhausted from her day and fell asleep quickly. ....... Belle awoke the next morning to light streaming into her “room”. Standing up, Belle stretched her stiff and sore body. She had a restless night and could feel it in her bones. Looking around, she tried to decide what to do. Should I summon him? Will he come and get me? Just as she was about to call out for Rumplestiltskin, a note appeared on the door.
The door’s unlocked. Meet me in the Great Hall – the one with all the treasures you seemed so keen on. I expect you to be here in ten minutes. ~R
Belle tried to open the door. True to his word, the door swung open easily. Now I just have to find the Great Hall. As much as I appreciate the distinction of the room, there is no way I can make it there in ten minutes by myself. Then a second thought occurred to her, and she shuddered. Was my curiosity that obvious? Why didn’t he say anything? Belle tried her best to retrace her steps from yesterday. She had been so worried then that she didn’t have a clue which way was which. She came to dead ends twice and walked the same corridors many times before she finally reached the Great Hall. Sitting at the end of the long table was Rumplestiltskin. “You’re late, dearie. I expect you to be on time.” What do you want me to do! I’m in a new place, which is gigantic, with no clue what I’m supposed to be doing! Belle wanted to scream this to the Dark One but thought better of it. She still did not know what his plans were and did not want to provoke him. Instead, she nodded her head and stood still. Rumplestiltskin pointed at a tea set on the table. Belle scrambled over to it and shakily began to prepare a cup. As she did so, the imp started to rattle off her responsibilities. “You will serve me my meals and you will clean the Dark Castle. You will dust my collection and launder my clothing. You will fetch me fresh straw when I’m spinning at the wheel.” Throughout the list of chores, Belle nodded and agreed demurely. There is a purpose for me then. At least there is some assurance of that. Belle was shaken out of her relief when he continued. “Oh! And you will skin the children I hunt for their pelts.” In her shock, Belle dropped the tea she was making. What did he just say?! Cooking and cleaning I can do, but murder? And children, nonetheless? Her thoughts stopped spiraling when the imp smirked and said, “That one was a quip, not serious!” He ended it with a little giggle. Thank the gods for that. No children skinning. Her attention dropped to the tea spilled on the ground. She bent down to clean it up when she noticed the cup was chipped. Oh dear, now I’ve done it. I better say goodbye to this world and the protection of Avonlea. There’s no way this is going to end well. Be brave and just tell the truth. Here I go. “Um, ah. I’m so sorry. It’s... it’s chipped.” She barely stuttered her way through it. She carefully angled the cup to minimize the damage. “You can hardly see it!” Cautiously looking up, Belle awaited the Dark One’s wrath and punishment. Belle braced herself. “It’s just a cup.” Here it was to come – my punishment and... wait. Did he just let it go? Without a word? Belle saw it in his eyes that he meant her no harm over the chipped china. Gratitude swept through her, and she gave the Dark One a tentative smile. He looked confused for a moment before magicking her into a stone kitchen. A fire was blazing in the hearth, and a chicken was slowly roasting over it. The scents of rosemary and lemon filled the air. Turning around, Belle found a cookbook open to a recipe for rotisserie chicken. On top of the page was another note.
Just a head start on lunch. Please have it ready by noon, just follow the recipe. A map of the Dark Castle is next to the pots on the southern wall. Try not to get lost or break any more of my china. ~ R
Belle smiled as she read the note. Walking over to the pots, she found the map. My life may not be glamorous, but it is going to be an adventure. I can flourish here and survive. Despite the rough edges, I don’t think he’s as terrifying as I thought. Of course, Belle was still scared. A few simple kindnesses could not make her forget all she knew or the circumstances that she was in. But, she had some hope that her future was not completely dark.
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The kitchen began to fill with smoke. The rosemary and lemon chicken was on fire. Belle had no idea what to do. Throwing water on it had done nothing and just made it grow. This is bad. I’m not going to have lunch ready at all. I thought I was doing this right – the recipe said to rotate the chicken after twenty minutes. The smoke was suffocating. Belle rushed over to the window and threw it open. She ran back to the fire and tried to separate it using the stoker. Slowly, the fire started to die down and the cool mountain air came in through the window. Now that she could see clearly again, Belle stared at the charred remains of the rotisserie chicken. Now I must start again. Except I don’t have any time or clue of what to do. She began to look through the recipe book, hoping for something quick and simple that she could whip up in thirty minutes. Eventually, she found a recipe for “easy pan-fried chicken”. The recipe seemed easy enough and only took twenty-five minutes. She began to gather the ingredients that she would need and restoked the fire to cook on. For now, she decided to leave the burnt chicken at the bottom of the fire until she could clean it up later. As the chicken seared on the first side, Belle chopped vegetables to add to the meal. She flipped the chicken and added the vegetables to the pan, stirring them occasionally. Letting them cook together, she went and found a service tray and plate. It’d do me no good to cook up a meal just to drop it on the way up. The chicken was nearly done, so Belle scooped up the vegetables and salted and buttered them. Placing them on the side of the plate, Belle turned around to grab the chicken. Hopefully this will suffice as my first meal. It’s not the original intent, but it’s not horrible given that I nearly burned the place down. Belle laughed at herself and began to carry the meal up to Rumplestiltskin. Having memorized the route to the Great Hall, her second journey through went much smoother. When she arrived to set the table, the Dark One was sitting and spinning at his wheel. He made no notice of Belle as she set the food down. He didn’t even look up until Belle asked him, “Excuse me, sir, but what can I get you to drink for lunch?” His head snapped up, almost as if he had forgotten that she was there. “Tea will suffice dearie. But I must add. What happened to your hair?” Belle started to arrange the tea things before she ran a hand through her hair. Is my hair truly that bad from that whole fiasco? “If I might ask,” She waited for Rumplestiltskin to give her permission to continue. He seemed agitated by her hesitancy. “Spit it out, haven’t got all day, I’ve important things to do.” Belle nodded before continuing, “What exactly is wrong with my hair? I don’t think anything too crazy happened.” As long as we don’t count housefires or burnt chickens. Rumplestiltskin had come over to the table and raised an eyebrow. “Looks like you fought with a dragon and lost,” He glanced down at his plate, “Might explain the meal change as well.” Belle blanched as the imp sat down and steepled his fingers, just staring at her and the food. “No matter. I’m sure this will be... sufficient.” Belle finished pouring the tea and passed it towards Rumplestiltskin. Much to her surprise, crimson smoke wrapped around it until it transformed into the chipped cup from yesterday. Belle didn’t say anything but couldn’t hide her shock. There is no way he is actually using that one. Unless it’s to mock me. It’s probably to mock my clumsiness. “I do what I want, dearie. Don’t forget it.” Belle nodded and ducked her head. By no means was she trying to insult the mage. Now that lunch was served, Belle wasn’t entirely sure what to do. Do I just stand here awkwardly? Should I return to the kitchen? What if he needs some random thing from me? In the end, Belle walked over to the wall and waited for the Dark One to finish his meal. “How much salt did you put in this?!” The imp looked over to where his caretaker stood. “I’m - I’m not sure. Just a dash, I think?” Rumplestiltskin pushed his plate away and reached for his tea. “It was certainly more than that,” He made a face and drained the contents of his cup. “Don’t worry about dinner – I think I’ve lost my appetite for the day. Just worry about cleaning the dishes and the kitchen. I better not see a single streak of smoke in that kitchen later.” Belle started to clear the table, grabbing the plate and teacup and putting it onto the serving tray. “No dinner. Got it.” She started walking back towards the kitchen before she realized that Rumplestiltskin knew about her fiery incident. She nearly dropped the china. Again. “I know about everything that happens in this castle. Next time, don’t add water to a grease fire. It was quite comical though.” He cackled and then went back to his spinning wheel. Belle squared her shoulders and continued down to the kitchen. What a strange little man. At least my head’s still attached and not on the table for a poorly executed pan chicken. She was disappointed that her meal wasn’t a success, but she would learn. I do have forever, after all. She put the dishes into the sink and began to clean everything up. ....... When Rumplestiltskin came downstairs to check on his maid, he was surprised to find her asleep in front of the fire. The kitchen had mostly been cleaned up from earlier and the only interruption was Belle sprawled across the floor, covered in soot. The imp walked over to the rack of pots and knocked a few onto the ground. Belle shot up and looked at the source of the noise. “Well look who’s decided to rejoin the living.” “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I did try to clean everything up.” Belle started to plead, not wanting to upset the mercurial imp. “Yes, yes, I’m sure you didn’t mean to lie on the ground like that, looking like your own version of Cinderella.” Belle looked at him confused before standing up. He continued, “Ah yes, that one won’t come to fruition for a few more years. The future is so full of funny images.” Belle noted that he did one of his hand twirls as he said it. Deciding to just roll with it, Belle tried to wipe some of the soot and ash off herself. This is never coming off. My dress is officially ruined. It only took a day, nice going Belle. She walked over to where the Dark One was perched by the pans. She picked up the ones he (probably?) knocked down before asking, “Is there anything else you need me for tonight?” The Dark One just stared at her for a moment, eyes narrow and snide. “There’s nothing you can do tonight, dearie. If you did, you’d end up making a bigger mess than was there in the first place. Just go to your room and you’ll try again tomorrow.” Belle felt her eyes start to water but kept the tears back. She curtsied to Rumplestiltskin before leaving and going to her dungeon pallet. As soon as she reached the hall, the tears came. I cannot do this! My first day here and I couldn’t even do a single thing right. I’ve failed in my duty, my people, Papa. By the time she laid down on her straw mattress, she was full on sobbing. I don’t know what to do. I miss how everything used to be so simple. I wish I could just do it right. I wish... Belle fell asleep crying, dreading what the next day would bring.
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The next morning, Belle got up earlier and went up to the kitchen. Today will be better. I will not disappoint him or fail my duties. She grabbed a bowl and bread ingredients and got to work. She had learned how to cook some things during the war when help was scarce and the coffers empty. A loaf of bread was something that Belle could handle. Hopefully this will make a better impression. I know this will at least turn out edible. After she set the dough aside to rise, Belle grabbed her map and a broom to try and clean something. The halls seemed mostly clean, but she swept up any dust bunnies that had appeared. I’m going to have to create a grand schedule if I’m to keep this place in order! If this map is right, which I’m sure it is, I haven’t even seen a quarter of the castle. She made it through two halls and ten rooms (bypassing the locked rooms) before she decided to return to the kitchen to cook breakfast. As she was walking back, a series of loud crashes came from far above, and soon after, a litany of colorful curses. Oh dear, that cannot be good. Hopefully I’ve done nothing wrong to upset him now. Belle then picked up her pace and made it back to the kitchen to bake the bread. Perhaps a little breakfast will lighten his mood. As mother always said, the key to a happy man is a full stomach. Belle began to arrange a tea tray as the bread baked. Bread goes along nicely with tea, doesn’t it? I think I saw some strawberry preserves and butter in the storeroom yesterday. This bread isn’t quite like the scones from home, but it's a start. Belle walked over to the china cupboard to get a cup. To her surprise, only one cup sat in the cabinet. He must think he’s so clever, leaving just that one cup. Of course, it was the chipped one with the blue detailing. If that’s the cup he wants, it’s what he’ll get, I suppose. He does “do what he wants”. Belle smiled at the quirks of her master. Life will never be boring, I guess. Belle found the strawberry preserve and butter in the storage room. Carefully, she cut the hot bread into thick slices and then smothered them in strawberries and butter. Then, she poured a fresh cup of tea and added a little lemon. Balancing the tray, Belle began her trek up to the Great Hall. One decent breakfast, coming up. ....... Rumplestiltskin was in a bad mood. A letter had just come in from Regina, complaining about the little Snow girl and some trade agreement with King George. Regina had the gall to send it at seven-thirty in the morning. He did his best potion making then, and the letter had interrupted him. The potion he was working on burned and became obsolete. Now he would have to start all over again, only after he made a trip to the lake to gather katniss again. After smashing his mortar for the millionth time and breaking the glass table, Rumplestiltskin decided to march downstairs for breakfast. That’s one perk of having a maid, I suppose. A fresh breakfast... that is, if the girl didn’t burn it. To his surprise, the smell of fresh bread greeted his nose. Even more surprising, it actually smelled edible and not burnt. Belle had just finished setting the table when Rumplestiltskin sneaked up behind her. “What did you make the monster for breakfast, dearie?” Belle jumped back in surprise. “Ah, g-good morning. I’ve made bread and tea.” Rumplestiltskin nodded and took a seat in response. She didn’t seem too afraid, though the jump scare was quite funny. That does make me feel a tad better. But what do I do now? Eat again while she awkwardly stares at me, the beast? Should I send her off, call her back later? But instead of standing by the wall again, Belle just left the Great Hall. Rumplestiltskin sighed. He was hoping to have terrorized the girl a little bit before she left again. There’s always later, when she comes back. Letting it go, Rumplestiltskin bit into the bread. Compared to yesterday, the food was spectacular. At least she isn’t completely incompetent and can make bread. The tea isn’t bad either. He smirked down at the chipped cup. It really did have more character now. ....... Belle had decided that waiting and staring at the Dark One eating breakfast was not her idea of a good time. If it is as awful as yesterday, I don’t want to be anywhere near that mess. Especially if he’s in a bad mood from earlier. She began washing the dishes and looked out into the courtyard. The leaves were beginning to fall, and snow covered the mountain peaks in the distance. It was truly beautiful. At least my life is to be spent here and not in the Frontlands or somewhere else terrible. Halfway through the dishes, two more appeared in a puff of smoke. Belle was alarmed by the act before realizing that her master must have sent them down. That was actually thoughtful. It made her smile as she finished the dishes. Her thoughts went back to his earlier comments. Not a complete monster after all. The dishes were eventually left to dry, and Belle grabbed the duster and left for the Great Hall. Maybe I’ll get a close look at some of those treasures he hoards after all. The walk was beginning to become familiar and quicker. When she arrived, the room was empty. She began to dust off his collection and wondered. She was on the eighth pedestal, cleaning a hammerlike weapon when Rumplestiltskin popped up and twittered, “Don’t touch that one dearie, it’ll make you dream of parsnips and giant squid for a week.” Belle took a giant step back and dropped the duster. “It’ll what?!” Her mouth was wide open, and shock was written all over her body. “Just kidding!” Belle watched as a gleeful twinkle fell into the Dark One’s eyes. “That won’t do anything to you, at least not yet.” When she realized she wasn’t in any danger and Rumplestiltskin was just pulling a prank on her, she started to laugh. What the hell?! There was no reason for that. Parsnips and giant squid? The absurdity of the situation was something she was not expecting. That was strangely funny. ....... The trip to the lake had been boring and Rumplestiltskin wanted some entertainment. His little maid was dusting away in the Great Hall, ogling his prized treasures. There is no way it takes someone fifteen minutes to dust a singular goblet. Deciding to scare his maid again, Rumplestiltskin magicked himself in front of the pedestal of Mjolnir. “Don’t touch that one dearie, it’ll make you dream of parsnips and giant squid for a week.” Rumplestiltskin watched in delight as Belle jumped back and screeched. After a few moments of hilarity, Rumplestiltskin ended her fear. He expected her to cry or to storm off, annoyed or terrified of his humor, but she didn’t. She is laughing? At first, Rumplestiltskin was mad that the girl was not behaving in the manner he expected. But then his mind started to wander a bit. Does she find me... funny? Is there some possibility that I don’t completely horrify her? No, that’s absurd. I’m the monster and she’s the strange little princess. There is no way she is not revolted by me. In the end, he was left confused and a little bit awed by the girl in front of him. ....... After a couple of minutes, Belle stopped laughing. Taking a deep breath in, she calmed herself into a state of composure. Rumplestiltskin was just blankly staring at the wall behind her. Not knowing what to do, she dropped into a curtsy and started dusting again. By the time she reached the next pedestal, he seemed to snap out of it. She watched him out of the corner of her eyes as she worked. He kept rubbing his thumb and fingers together before settling down at his spinning wheel in the far corner. What a strange life I lead. One minute fearing for my dreams, the next rolling in laughter. If there is one thing, life in the Dark Castle will never be boring.
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Belle began to settle into a routine. She got up in the morning and made breakfast, typically bread of some sort, and prepared Rumplestiltskin’s tea, always in the chipped cup. Then she would dust and clean the Dark Castle. A late lunch was served, which was well cooked some of the time. Then Belle would continue cleaning until she returned to her room to cry out her worries and sorrows. She was finally learning her way around, no longer needing to clutch her castle map to get from one wing to another. Occasionally, she would run into the Dark One and light conversation would follow. It was nothing too exciting, just passing of pleasantries or a quick hello. All in all, Belle thought she was settling into her role as the Dark Castle’s caretaker very well. She had finally gotten around to cleaning the foyer and now it gleamed and could boast of being spotless. When she had cleaned it, there were still footprints from when she had been brought in. Why it was so disgusting, I’ll never know, Belle thought as she walked towards the Great Hall. She had just finished her morning chores and there was a small break before she had to start on lunch. She was hoping to find a conversation with Rumplestiltskin. Belle had found that despite his temper, he was a rather intelligent and comedic man. However, the Great Hall was empty. Where is that man? He isn’t off on a deal; he would have told me to prevent any escape plans. Belle rolled her eyes at that. I gave the man forever, so he’d best learn I intend to keep my word. Just as Belle was about to go exploring to find her master, he magicked himself above the door, so he perched on the ledge. Ever the showman. “Morning, dearie. What has you looking about like a lost kitten, mmm?” Belle smiled. “I was looking for you, actually. And besides, I don’t think I’m the kitten when you’re perched like one up there.” Rumplestiltskin smirked before sliding down to stand next to Belle. “Touché, dearie, touché.” He performed a little mock bow. “What are you in need of? A new broom, cooking lessons?” Belle huffed a little, “I am improving! And no. I wasn’t looking for anything like that. Just smart conversation.” Rumplestiltskin stilled at that, ceasing his near constant movement. Belle wondered if she had said anything wrong. I hope he doesn’t just send me off. I’m bored and really want to talk to someone, even if it is just about the weather. “Well dearie, a conversation you shall have.” Belle’s face lit up. What do I say? Should I bring up chores? No, that’s stupid and he’ll think me dull. I could bring up his deals or work, but he typically is shut off about those. I could ask him why the foyer was so gross? Absolutely not. The room was awkwardly silent for a few minutes before Belle came up with an idea. “Have you read any good books lately?” Rumplestiltskin nodded as he brought two oversized armchairs next to the fire. “I recently have been reading this fascinating series about a great detective called Sherlock Holmes. Of course, I always construe the plot way before he does, but they are enjoyable, nonetheless. Sherlock reminds me of a seer I knew in the Land Without Color.” “Oh! I’ve read a few of them, but Papa was never able to find the whole set. My favorite of them was The Hound of the Baskervilles. Then the war came on and we no longer could afford such luxuries.” Rumplestiltskin looked over at his maid, finding her more curious than before. “Do you read much?” Belle laughed a little before saying, “I used to, before I came here. I would read through four or five books a week. Books have always been a way for me to escape, to chase away the blues. When my mother died, it became a reminder of her. She always read to me when I was little and stressed its importance.” Belle looked up to see Rumplestiltskin looking at her. Oh dear, he thinks I’m strange too. “Sorry about your mother, dearie. That must have been... hard.” He looked away, feeling awkward. “I haven’t quite gotten to The Hound of the Baskervilles, but when I do, perhaps we can discuss it?” He looked back to Belle again, waiting for her response. Belle jumped out of her seat and grabbed Rumplestiltskin’s hand. “I would love to! Oh, you’re going to love it. The mystery took me a while to figure out and it was an absolute delight!” Rumplestiltskin looked like he had seen a ghost. Belle quickly disengaged herself and murmured her apologies. I should not have done that! He finally agreed to have a civil conversation with me, and I had to go and ruin it. After Belle had let go of his hand, Rumplestiltskin abruptly stood up. “I have a deal to go make dearie. A selkie fur just popped up in the market and deals don’t make themselves. Don’t try to escape, the wards won’t let you.” And with that, maroon smoke enveloped him, and his chair was left empty. Belle sighed and mourned the loss of company, even if it was just her temperamental master. “Goodbye, Rumplestiltskin. See you later.” She then went back to the kitchen to prepare a dinner that might be eaten, depending on the quality. ....... Rumplestiltskin had been scrying all morning. The realm was filled with so many desperate souls, but for the time being, none of them had anything of importance. He was just going to request some tea, when he noticed his little caretaker was wandering about aimlessly. Deciding to taunt her a bit, he sent himself to the Great Hall. “Morning, dearie. What has you looking about like a lost kitten, mmm?” Instead of jumping as she had in the first few days, Belle looked up and smiled at him. When did I become a welcome sight? She should be shuddering in horror and fear of what I could do to her. When she said she was looking for him, it clicked into place. She needs something. Of course she would seek me out. Just like every other noblewoman in this damned realm. He questioned his statement when she threw a little line back at him. Where did the scared little maid go? Putting on a mask of indifference and showmanship, Rumplestiltskin asked her, “What are you in need of? A new broom, cooking lessons?” Belle’s answer surprised the Dark One. She is seeking me out... for conversation? Does she realize she wants to spend more time with the monster who dragged her away from everything she knew? A thought struck him. Of course. She hasn’t had anyone to talk to for a couple of weeks. He tried to push down the guilt he felt at that, as it was his fault. To remedy that, he decided to take up her request (definitely not to cure his own loneliness, not at all). “Well dearie, a conversation you shall have.” He watched as Belle became visibly happy. Perhaps I’ve done something right. For once. The feeling faded as the room remained silent for a while. Did she think I would say no? Or did she realize the error of her ways? Just as he was about to leave, Belle asked him about books. What books have I read lately?! I did read that book on how to murder fairies the other day, but that is hardly a conversation I want to have right now, lest she foregoes any future attempts. Wait, why would I want that? Eventually, he came up with a suitable answer. The mystery series he had been reading in order to make a deal with the real Sherlock Holmes, who lived in the Land Without Color. Not that I need to include that detail. It was funny to watch Belle sit down in the large, oversized armchairs. Her petite form was nearly swallowed by it. She certainly looks like a little kitten now. He shook his head. What has gotten into me? He watched as Belle’s face lit up with joy as she talked about the series. She enjoys reading? What sort of noblewoman did I pick up as my caretaker? First, she knows how to make good tea, then she doesn’t complain, and now she reads too? Rumplestiltskin was starting to realize he was in over his head. He couldn’t help but stare in wonder at his little housekeeper. His? Dumbly he asked, “Do you read much?” The question immediately sounded stupid, even to his own ears. Do you read much? Of course she does! Her first go-to conversation was about books, and she has read a good chunk of the series I randomly brought up! He was relieved when Belle just laughed it off and responded. The guilt hit him again when Belle said she had lost her mother and that she couldn’t read anymore. What do I do? Dead mothers are bad conversation pieces, and I do not know what to do. Entering panic mode, he deflected the conversation back to Sherlock Holmes – and offered book discussions. Why would I do that? That is just asking for rejection. Much to his surprise, Belle did quite the opposite. He was not ready for her nearness, for the handhold or the excitement in her voice as she agreed to spend time with him. I cannot do this right now. Overwhelmed, he made an excuse to get out of there, as soon as possible. After he escaped to the west wing’s turret roof, he thought about everything that just had happened. A deal, very reasonable and plausible. Selkies do not show up very often around these parts. Then he thought about his little Belle. He then reassured himself. She’s just my acquisition, like property. That didn’t make him feel any better. Why was she so eager to spend time with me? Is she not repulsed by my appearance, my nature? Perhaps she just wants to gain her freedom. The darkness within him liked that explanation, but the man knew it was wrong. There was too much truth in her eyes. In a moment of weakness, Rumplestiltskin sent a copy of Sherlock Holmes down to Belle’s room. Perhaps she won’t cry herself to sleep again tonight. ....... Belle spent the rest of her day doing chores and contemplating her last meeting with the Dark One. He certainly was very amiable today. Much more man than beast. Her heart was saddened that he had run away from her, but she did not want to push her position. I was too bold. I am just the caretaker and he’s the Dark One. He had many more important things to do than talking with the help. Then why did it seem like we both wanted to talk? The rest of the day was spent in near silence. Rumplestiltskin did not show up again for his meal or to make small talk. Belle had been fairly productive and cleaned a dozen rooms when she decided to call it a night. She silently bid her master a goodnight, hoping he’d be back for breakfast tomorrow. When she walked into her dungeon, sitting on the pallet was a shimmering copy of Sherlock Holmes. Belle began to cry, not from sadness, but from conflicted joy. Why does he care? Or does he even care at all? Will he run away from me again tomorrow? Is this some sort of consolation present? So many thoughts flooded Belle’s brain as she sat down and held the book to her chest. Rumple, what does this mean? And since when was he Rumple?
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Rumplestiltskin was sitting ramrod straight at his spinning wheel when Belle arrived with the morning tea. She had not slept well last night, and from the looks of it, neither did he. “Tea’s ready, if you’re interested.”
Belle sat the tray on the edge of the table and turned towards the imp when he didn’t acknowledge her. She studied him for a moment, watching as his fingers adeptly maneuvered the straw. “I do appreciate it, you know.” At this, he finally looked up. “Appreciate what dearie? Endless morning chores?”
Belle cracked a smile. That silly goose. He knows what, for heaven's sake. “The book, of course. It was really sweet.”
Rumplestiltskin stiffened before responding, “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I have no idea how a book would have found you. Unless a spell misfired, or a dormouse decided to bring you something. If it was a spell, I suppose you’re lucky that a book was all that was misplaced, hmm?”
So that’s how it’s going to be. Pretending yesterday did not happen. I see... “How did the selkie deal go? I’m sure it must have been exhausting if the deal took several hours.”
There was no response from the corner. The only sound in the hall was the occasional creak of the wheel as it spun. Waiting for a few more minutes, Belle sat on the edge of the table. When silence remained, she got up and started for the door. Well, no conversations right now I suppose. Perhaps later. She stalled, turning again, and said, “Enjoy your tea, I’ll be back with lunch later.”
Instead of heading towards the kitchen, Belle went towards her room. Why is he like that?! One day he’s all open for conversation and is gifting me books – of course it is him, who else could it be – and now, he is quiet as the dead, pretending he doesn’t know what he did. Surely, he can admit to being kind, right?
Reaching her room, Belle sat down and reached for the book. It was right where she had left it this morning and she began to read. If he doesn’t want to keep me company, then my book will have to do. At least Sherlock cannot let me down. However, Belle was not able to focus on the book, despite the interesting narrative. All she could think about was why she even cared about conversing with the Dark One. It’s not like he’s the most companionable person in the realm. We’ve talked a few times earnestly, but nothing really until yesterday. Most of the time, he is prancing about, telling me to stay in the castle while he’s dealing or critiquing my cooking. That gave her pause again. Why did he even want me here? I am not a great cook or maid by any stretch of the word. I can hardly be considered a fair trade for a war. Of course I’m not thrilled to be here, but it really could be much worse. He can be kind, when he wants to be. He’s raised his voice, but never has he caused me harm. Less can be said for Gaston. I just don’t know what to think of him.
That alarmed Belle, because she loved reading people almost as much as actual books. It wasn’t often that someone stumped her. Even harder than these mysteries, he is. I’ll figure him out, eventually. I do have forever, after all.
After a while, Belle was finally able to focus on the story and enjoyed a few chapters before setting off to make lunch. Despite her cooking flaws, she was getting better. She decided on tomato soup and ciabatta bread. When everything finished, she carefully carried it up to the Great Hall. Much to her surprise, it was empty. Great. He knows it is lunch time. The one thing I do have going for me is punctuality. He could have the courtesy of being on time too. “Rumplestiltskin! Lunch is ready!”
The imp did not appear, and Belle stood there. Again. What has gotten into him today! I swear to any of the gods who will listen... “If you don’t come right now, I’m eating this. It actually looks pretty good.”
As she reached for the soup, Rumplestiltskin popped up right in front of it and Belle pulled her arm back in alarm. “No need dearie, I’ll be having my lunch now. No need to have a maid if I don’t enjoy her services.” He grabbed the soup and magicked out of the room again, leaving Belle staring.
“Enjoy lunch too, I guess.” Dejected, Belle sat down in the Great Hall and looked about. The decorations were bright and garish, something she had not expected when she first arrived. Yet, they seem just a little sadder without their master dawdling about. Belle knew cleaning was going to be a low priority – she just couldn’t focus on anything with all the thoughts crashing around her head. After staring at her feet and moping for a while, Belle decided to go back to her room and have a cry session.
Sitting in the dungeon and sobbing slightly improved her mood. Sure, it didn’t do anything to actually solve her problems, but it made them seem a little more manageable. I’m the envy of all, I’m sure. Crying that the Dark One is avoiding me. That must be a first. Of course, I’m missing Papa too, but loneliness is such a fickle mistress. It makes us all seek out anyone who has a kindred spirit, I suppose. Even if it belongs to an angsty, infuriating little imp. The tears started again; this time accompanied by loud sobs. Belle was content to cry her heart out, regulating her emotions when a sharp knock sounded at the door before it swung open.
“When you so eagerly agreed to work for me, I’d assume you wouldn’t miss your family quite so much.”
A million thoughts pop up again. The nerve and audacity of that man. To avoid me for nearly a day and a half, rudely snatch meals, and then to waltz in here like that. Also! Of course I miss my family? I miss people? Maybe it would be better if you’d interact with me? Frustrated, Belle snapped. “I made my sacrifice for them. Of course I miss them, you beast!” She was indignant now, and frustrated.
“Yes, yes of course. But the crying must stop. Night after night. It’s making it very difficult for me to spin. You know, I do my best thinking then.” The impish side of him was on full display, gesturing and twittering about. Belle just stared at him, waiting for him to say something else stupid. Why not alienate me? I’m only stuck with you here, forever, in this castle. Ignore me and berate me, why don’t you! Rumplestiltskin looked uncomfortable at her stony silence. “Uh, here,” He conjured an elegant throw pillow, “Perhaps this will help?”
“For me?” Belle questioned, her tears starting to dry up. This whiplash is going to kill me. “Not quite so beastly now, am I?” The whiplash is definitely going to kill me. Belle was startled when he threw the pillow at her before stalking out the door. “Thank you. Maybe now, I’ll actually get some sleep.” She threw some aggravation and salt into it, letting him know where he stood in the moment.
Immediately, Rumplestiltskin countered. “No, no, no, no! It’s not to help you sleep dearie. It’s to muffle the cries so I can get back to work!” By the end, his anger was flaring, though Belle thought it seemed a bit forced. She was about to roll her eyes and smart back when a loud crash echoed through the halls.
Rumplestiltskin whipped his head towards the door and ran out. What is going on? Is someone else here? Ever curious, Belle follows him out the door before running into crimson smoke. Great, now I still have no idea what’s going on. Couldn’t have brought me with him, could he? Belle began towards the Great Hall, where she thought the crash came from.
.......
Rumplestiltskin had not slept at all. His silly little maid was on his mind, and the only thing he could do was spin, albeit rather inefficiently. Still she cried last night. Did she despise the gift given to her by a monster? Perhaps she was still reeling from touching my accursed skin? He shuddered at the memory of her touch, soft and gentle against his. Gods, I must stop. I cannot entertain these foolish thoughts. She is a beautiful woman, and I am dust. His thoughts were interrupted when their main focus appeared. “Tea’s ready, if you’re interested.”
Deciding to ignore her, to try and collect his thoughts. I’m too interested dearie, that’s the problem. However, Belle did not go away. What is it that she wants? “I do appreciate it, you know.”
Rumplestiltskin internally panicked. She did get the book then. And she likes it? She seems to be in good spirits. I uh, should not let her know. Honestly, the woman should fear me, not think of me as some generous benefactor. Perhaps that should be my strategy. Distance, aloofness, and the Dark One’s mask. A facade to keep her out. Then my energy can return to dealing and such. “Appreciate what dearie? Endless morning chores?”
When Belle just smiled back, Rumplestiltskin could not help but damn himself. What goes on in her head that she just smiles at me?! He decided to deflect, blaming a spell and dormouse, but it did not deter her. Then her comment left him reeling. The Dark One, sweet? Because his humor was not keeping her away, he decided to just go silent, hoping that she would go away. When she began to leave, he thought he had won this battle, but then she had to be so kind. Just why? She confuses and compels me, but I do not know why. To take his mind off it, he spirited away to his potions tower. The combination of chemicals and magic always dulled and quieted his thoughts.
He was broken out of his potion making when Belle called him to lunch. I’m late. That is probably driving her off the walls. The thought of seeing her made him antsy. He needed a little bit more space before he could confront her again after the feelings he had that morning. Then she had to threaten his lunch. Again, where did that scared girl go? He popped down to the Great Hall, grabbed lunch as quickly as possible, made a snide comment, and retreated without letting her respond.
He looked at the soup and bread and inhaled deeply. It smelled delicious. Her cooking has been improving. She’s a quick study. What if I... He cut himself off before he could continue that train of thought. Absolutely not. I need to get myself together. He ate his lunch, which did end up being tasty, before sending it down to the kitchen. That way she doesn’t have to trek all the way up here. I’m doing it again. Thinking about her. Gods why must this be so infuriating! To distract himself, he started mixing potent potions, ones with fumes he knew would cloud his mind a bit. What’s safety to my sanity, hmm? I’m already crazy.
He was taken out of the fog when her sobs began to echo throughout the castle. What is she crying about now? Missing home probably. Guilt continued to wrap itself around his heart. All my fault. All my fault. Annoyed that her sobs had any effect, Rumplestiltskin transported himself to her door. Now I will give her reason to fear, to not so gently walk through these halls. Then she will stay away, and I can have peace once more.
After loudly knocking, he let himself in. Sprawled on the pallet was Belle, crying and clutching his book to her chest. She looks so small. So beautiful. For a second, he questioned himself. Putting on his impish persona, he snarked at her. “When you so eagerly agreed to work for me, I’d assume you wouldn’t miss your family quite so much.”
Belle looked like he had slapped her. Perhaps that was a little too harsh. Wait no. That’s good. Maybe she’ll keep some distance. Belle countered testily. So brave, my Belle. Ugh. Uh, say something insulting, that’ll go over well. “Yes, yes of course. But the crying must stop. Night after night. It’s making it very difficult for me to spin. You know, I do my best thinking then.”
Belle’s shock turned to rage, and he was starting to question his strategy. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea I’ve had. To make up for it, maybe another gift will work? Looking around, he conjured a pillow, made from the finest silk. He nearly shattered when she looked up at him again and asked if the pillow was for her. I need to stay strong. Keep her at bay, keep her out. Schooling his features again, he nearly shouted at her. “Not quite so beastly now, am I?”
Instead of going silent, Belle snarked right back. Of course, never deterred. What am I to do? There is nothing that I can say or do at this point, is there? Ah well, might as well get the last word in. As soon as he had finished, the wards around the castle rippled and a crash sounded in the castle. Who dares break into the Dark Castle? And why didn’t I notice them on the grounds before? Deciding not to reflect on that, he ran out the door before magicking himself to the Great Hall.