Everything is Going to be Alright
By: RosexKnight
Rumpelstiltskin's the village coward. Belle is the princess of Avonlea. They would make a very unlikely couple, but war brings people together. Or rather, in their case, Ogres.
"STOP!"
The voice was firm, but feminine. It cut through the cool morning mist like a knife, leaving only stunned silence in its wake. The spinner looked up from his position on the ground before the Duke's Soldiers, his son behind him, trying to figure out what to do in this situation. A large horse appeared on the road, larger than any Rumpelstiltskin had ever seen. Its rider was a small thing, but commanded the animal effortlessly. The soldiers faltered for a moment, their own horses stepping back as the woman brought hers to stand at the spinner's side.
"Get up."
It took Rumpelstiltskin a moment to realize she was talking to him. But then his son was tugging on his cloak, and with some effort he was on his feet again. He tried not to look her in the eyes, truly he did. She was dressed in clothes too grand for the likes of him to make eye contact with. But her eyes held such kindness, betraying the harsh tone she took with the Duke's men.
"Who do you think you are, woman?" Hordor demanded, nearly spitting the words at her.
This didn't seem to faze her at all. She sat up straighter, almost challenging him to do anything more.
"Who do you think you are?" She retorted, bringing her large horse to stand between him and the father and son. How did she get on that horse with such an elegant and grand gown? "Bullying subjects of your Duke and speaking to the Princess of Avonlea in such a way."
A gasp came from the men, and Hordor's face became pale. In an instant he was on one knee.
"Lady Belle, forgive me. We didn't—"
"Of course not." She rolled her eyes, then glanced back at Rumpelstiltskin. "I heard you speak of treason? He doesn't exactly look the type…"
"He was running."
"Pardon?"
"His boy is turning fourteen in two days' time, milady." A soldier behind Hordor offered. "The Duke drafts all children at the age of fourteen as soldiers for the Ogres War."
"Children?"
Her voice was a squeak, all composure thrown to the wind. Rumpelstiltskin pulled his son closer to his side, clinging to him for dear life. His desperate eyes once again fell on hers, and saw the kindness. She blinked, remembering herself before turning back to the guards with a mask.
"No more." She said. "He is pardoned. You will not touch his son."
Hordor was back on his feet. "This is the law!"
"Speaking against the word of your princess?"
Her voice held nothing but a challenge, and one that Hordor did not want to go against.
"You will go against the will of The Dark One."
"I have no fear of The Dark One. If the will was his own I doubt he'd trouble himself with Frontlands." Belle leaned forward, waving her hand dismissively. "Go tell your Duke that my father and I have arrived within your borders. Have him begin the preparations for our stay."
He nodded, giving her a small bow. "Of course my lady."
With that he was back on his horse and the three of them were off. The spinner remained motionless, clutching Bae to his side. His son squirmed in his arms, giving him a reassuring smile. On her large beast, the princess deflated, her shoulders going slack as she sat back in her saddle.
"Well. Good thing they bought that." She said turning to give them a smile.
Rumpelstiltskin averted his eyes to the ground immediately. After all, who was he to gaze upon royalty?
It was Baelfire who spoke. "You…Are you not a princess then?"
"Oh no, I am." She said with a warm smile. "My fearlessness of The Dark One. That was the bluff. Everyone fears him."
There was a pause as neither party moved. The spinner and son shifted on their feet as the lady's horse moved closer for a moment before stepping back once again.
When Belle's voice came it was gentle, like coaxing a small animal out of its hiding place. "You're not hurt are you?"
Rumpelstiltskin shook his head. "No, milady."
"Good. I um…I heard them call you Rumpelstiltskin? Is that your name?"
He nodded now. "Yes, milady."
He dared a glance up at her, and saw she was smiling. A warm, welcoming thing that made his stomach drop. He shifted back, holding Bae closer.
"They say you spin." She continued, a flicker of worry in her eyes. "You do spin don't you?"
Bae was speaking again. "We spin and weave."
"Excellent. I was hoping to purchase some thread. For embroidery." Belle explained. "If that is alright."
Another pause. "Of course, milady. We have some thread. Back home."
"Then lead the way."
And then, somehow, they were walking, going down the road back to his cottage, his son at his side and Princess Belle at his back.
"I've never seen a horse so large before." Baelfire said, and for a moment he wanted to silence his son, but then the princess giggled.
"Her name is Fillipe. She's a Clydesdale. Avonlea is known for its horses and livestock. And flowers." Belle explained.
"Odd combination."
"I suppose so. But it's a very beautiful land. You could see it one day. It's not too far…"
"I'd like that."
Another pause. No sound fell but their steps and the hooves of the horse.
"Would you like to ride?" Belle asked suddenly. Baelfire glanced back, but her eyes were not on him. "It's just…your leg looks like it hurts, and riding will be easier."
"I'm fine." Rumpelstiltskin said gruffly, trying not to show his annoyance. Pity was not something he wanted. Never had been.
The princess made a short noise of acknowledgement, and then her horse's hooves stopped. The two looked back to see the horse had kneeled, allowing Belle to slip off its back easily. So that's how she did it.
"My lady, please There's no need for you to walk." Rumpelstiltskin pleased, suddenly fearful. She'd pardoned him of treason so easily, surely she could throw it back on his head if he angered her.
But she merely waved him away. "Nonsense. I'm tired of riding. A stretch of my legs is just what I need.
"Can I ride?"
Baelfire had blurted the words excitedly, stepping towards the horse, which hadn't stood up yet. His father tugged on his son's hood.
"Bae." He said firmly, trying to hide the desperation in his voice. "You can't just ask something like that of our princess. I'm sorry, milady he's just a boy…"
"A boy who may ride if his father does not wish to." Belle said easily, and the beckoning motion she made with her hands left Rumpelstiltskin stunned as his son slipped away to stand before the beast. "Put your foot there on the saddle. No other foot. There. Now pull yourself up. Yes! Just like that."
The princess's words were lithe and fair, instructing his son on how to climb onto a saddle before the horse stood. She kept the reigns in her hands, turning to him and awaiting his lead. It was an odd sight, seeing his boy on a royal horse, being led down the path to his cottage by the princess. But Bae was giggling and smiling more than the spinner had seen I years, and who was he to object to that?
"Milady how much thread would you like?" Rumpelstiltskin asked as they neared his cottage, a modest one on the outskirts of the rest of the village. Safe.
Belle was preoccupied with the cottage itself, eyeing it, as if searching for…something. When she was done she gave him a smile, and reached into her satchel to pull out a small pouch of coins.
"However much that will buy." She said easily, trying not to giggle at The Spinner's stunned reaction.
"Milady we would…I would have to spin for two days to give you goods for a sum so grand."
Baelfire had stopped giggling now, eyes intent on his father and the princess. But then they were stopping at the cabin, and the horse was kneeling once again to allow the boy to slip off.
"Is that…It's too much?" Belle tilted her head in confusion, glancing to the pouch in her hand. "They said your skill was so sharp that you could spin straw into gold."
Rumpelstiltskin chuckled before he could remember himself. "I only wish I were so fortunate to have that ability."
"We have no wool." Baelfire offered, a bit more courageous than his father. He always had been. "Winter is coming. We usually allow them to keep the wool through winter. Better for their health."
"Oh is that all?" Belle asked with another laugh. "I have wool. From the sheep in our kingdom." She was off to the horse again, pulling another pouch from its saddle. She walked back to Rumpelstiltskin, offering it to him as if she were a simple tradesman and he a normal spinner instead of a princess and a cripple.
Rumpelstiltskin couldn't move for a moment, only looking at the bag of wool in her hands to her and then back to the wool. Belle thought he looked like a rabbit coming out of its burrow, ready for a fox or weasel to strike at any moment. But Baelfire took the bag, opening it to reveal wool fluffier than any he'd ever seen.
"Will…Will that be enough?" The princess asked gently, ever so patient with him.
"More than enough." Bae confirmed, glancing to his father, who nodded.
His father was the one who did the spinning. Baelfire usually handled the labor of gathering things from the garden or fetching water or feeding the sheep. But spinning was his father's talent, really.
"Good." Belle said, offering the pouch of coins to Rumpelstiltskin again. This time he took it, and Belle was pleased to note that his hands weren't even shaking. "We'll be here for three days. I can come fetch the yarn on the third. Would that be alright?"
"Of course, milady." He said. "For embroidery you said?"
Belle nodded, looking rather sheepish. "Yes. It's a hobby of mine. A lady has to keep herself occupied, after all."
The last part sounded more like she was quoting someone, but the spinner said nothing of it. Instead, he nodded, making a motion to go inside and get to work. "I'll have your order finished by the time you depart, milady."
But as he was turning away she stepped forward. "Rumpelstiltskin…" He froze, turning to her. She glanced to Baelfire, then back to him. "May we…speak?"
He could not hide the flicker of fear behind his eyes or the urge to grab Bae and run that overcame him, making him grip his staff harder. "Of course milady. Bae, go feed the sheep and prepare the spinning wheel."
Baelfire seemed to sense his father's trepidations, because he then looked nervously to Belle. But the princess only gave him a reassuring smile, so he bowed. "Thank you for letting me ride Princess Belle. I won't soon forget it."
"You're very welcome, Baelfire. Maybe if you come to Avonlea one day I'll teach you how to ride properly."
"Promise?"
"My dear boy, a princess always keeps her word."
And then the boy was beaming, and running off to do the chores his father had asked. Rumpelstiltskin couldn't help the frown. His son was happy. Excited, even. But it was nothing but false hope, and he knew better. For a moment something overcame him and he opened his mouth, ready to tell the woman not to instill false hope into his son, but then he saw the look in her eye as he watch Baelfire run along. Full of sorrow. He cleared his throat and she blinked, remembering herself.
"Of course. May we talk inside?" He tilted his head at her. A princess? Wanting to come inside his shack? "Your foot. You should rest it."
"Yes, milady. Of course."
And then, somehow, he was leading Princess Belle into his cottage. It was not as run-down as some others in the village, but he knew it was nothing compared to what she was used to. No, he paled in comparison to a castle, and for a moment, as she sat on his wooden chair in her grand gown, how wished he could offer more than a near-tasteless cup of tea and a biscuit.
Her eyes were roaming his home, searching once again, he supposed, for whatever it was. After a moment her eyes fell upon the cup and bread he was offering her, and she seemed hesitant to accept it.
"The sum you gave us. It's more than enough to buy more bread and tea." He finally said, and she obliged with a small smile, taking it.
He sat across from her with his own cup and biscuit, and for a moment everything was surreal. Princess Belle of Avonlea was in his home, at his table, drinking and eating from his hearth. It made him want to dart away and fall at her feet all at once.
He produced a spool her, and she took it, looking over the near-perfect thread it admiringly.
"They were not lying about your ability." She said with a smile. "You could spin for kings…"
Rumpelstiltskin shrugged. "A simple spinner does not have such luxuries, milady."
"The guards…they said the duke drafts the children at the age of fourteen for the wars." She started after a beat of silent sipping.
"Yes milady." Rumpelstiltskin said when she glanced up at him.
"How long has that been…"
Belle's voice trailed off, and the spinner could only shrug. There was something unspoken about the way she asked. An unspoken demand to tell the truth. "Since my boy was ten."
Rumpelstiltskin saw her grip her biscuit harder, but her eyes closed and she rightened again. "No more of that then."
Her words held a bit of finality to them, but before Rumpelstiltskin could speak again she'd taken a bite of her bread and was speaking again.
"I saw how the guards treat you. No more of that either."
"They don't treat everyone the way they treat the likes of me, milady." He took a bite of his own bread, venturing a glance up to see the question in her eyes. "I…I'm a deserter, milady. I ran from the ogres because I am a coward."
Belle let out a laugh, a small thing before she covered her mouth and apologized to him softly. "I do not fault you for that. I imagine I would do the same in that situation."
"Would you?"
The princess's lips quirked at the hope in his voice. "Yes. But I am in a different situation entirely."
"Would you run from it though?"
He didn't mean for it to sound so desperate. Still, the princess paused, her eyes leaving his to look around the cabin again, then outside where the sun was just rising. "A princess does not have such luxuries, Rumpelstiltskin."
She finished her tea and bread before he could ask the question in his mind. What luxuries what she speaking of? Surely none that he had.
In an instant, Princess Belle was speaking again "Now tell me, the rations. They are fair? For everyone?"
"As fair as they can be with the recourses, milady. But we get by. Families help each other, you see. And the travelers we do get are still welcomed."
Belle nodded. "Good." She reached over, taking his hand in hers and squeezing it. "Thank you, Rumpelstiltskin. I'll be back to retrieve my thread before I leave the Frontlands."
All the spinner could do was nod and mumble "Yes milady." Before she was standing. He stood with her, but she motioned for him to sit back down.
"I…" She paused at the door, turning to him. "I do not fault you for running, Rumpelstiltskin. Truly I don't. If you need to again, run to Avonlea. I shall save a place among the royal spinners for you and your son. You have my word on that."
Rumpelstiltskin was stunned. She, a princess, had just told him to run, to do the very thing that branded him a coward, without any shame at all. Who was this woman, this royal, who let his son ride her horse and who say at his ragged hearth and made promises of safety that he was beckoned to believe.
"Thank you, lady Belle." He said, growing bold enough to use her name as he bowed as best he could to her. "Truly."
"Of course." And with that, and a small curtsy – a curtsy – she was out of his home, leaving only the sound of her horse's hooves in her wake.
Whispers of the king of Avonlea ran through the village. Rumors spread of an alliance being formed, one that promised more troops from Avonlea and no more drafting of the children of the Frontlands. The guards, too, were apparently to be replaced, letting those who belonged to the duke worry about the warfront – a strategic advantage of course. They praised the king of the Frontlands, and spoke of his daughter's unparalleled beauty. Only Rumpelstiltskin, the common spinner, knew the truth of it all, and if nothing else he loved Princess Belle just for that.
The day after her arrival and time in his home he saw her again. As he spun outside of his home a caravan of sorts rode through, the Duke showing off his immediate lands to his guests. The villagers knelt as they passed, the Duke riding side-by-side with the king in front, Belle and his son behind them. They were dressed in their best, and seemed so out of place riding through the village, though Rumpelstiltskin thought Belle looked more like she belonged, even though her expression was bored as the Duke's son, Gaston, prattled on about something she probably didn't care for. But as they passed she offered him a smile, and he was able to return it.
As promised, the wool that Princess Belle had provided them with was spun into the most glorious thread Rumpelstiltskin could provide. It had to be perfect. And even as he was wrapping lengths of it into individual spools with Baelfire he realized that a mere few spindles of thread would never be enough to repay her.
"Suppose she doesn't come." Baelfire said impatiently as the sun grew high in the sky.
"She'll come. She said she'd retrieve her order." Rumpelstiltskin said, unsure of why the two of them were growing so impatient.
Perhaps it was just because he had to see her again. One last time.
A knock on the door sprung both of them into action. Rumpelstiltskin retrieved the wooden box that he had put the spools in as Baelfire opened the door. Belle stood before them, once again in a grand dress. Her beast of a horse was behind her, saddlebags full of whatever supplies she would need.
"I can't linger." Her words came as almost an apology, and Rumpelstiltskin wondered why it made him so sad.
"Of course. Your order, milady." He presented it to her with a bow, and she took the box, a grateful smile on her face.
"Are the rumors true, princess?" Baelfire asked, tugging on her dress timidly. "No more drafts?"
Princess Belle kneeled to be eye-level with the boy, and rustled his hair. "No more drafts. But you have to promise to be good and help your father with his work and your chores before going off and playing."
Baelfire stood straighter. "I promise."
"Good." Belle straightened. "I must go. The travel party will be ready any moment. Farewell, Rumpelstiltskin and Baefire."
"Bye Belle!" Baelfire said with a wave.
The princess gave a nod, and turned to leave.
"Belle…" Before he could stop himself, the spinner grabbed her wrist, holding her for a moment as new fear bubbled inside him. What if it was a lie? What if things would go back to how they were when she left? His hand began to tremble around her wrist, but she only searched his eyes for a moment before placing a hand on his. Silently telling him things would be okay. "Thank you."
That laugh bubbled from her again. Like he'd said something absurd. Like she didn't understand why those words had left his mouth. He didn't understand her in the slightest.
"No, thank you."
And then she leaned forward, and kissed his cheek, ad before he could blink in response she was back on her horse ad riding off.
It wasn't until the next day did he understand. The notice was posted in the main square, for all to see. The Princess of Avonlea was to marry the Duke of the Frontland's son. And theirs would be a union to push back the ogres. Belle was to marry Gaston. Marry someone she didn't care a thing for. Become a kept woman. And spend the rest of her days embroidering. But in her wake the Princess had left comfort and security for those in the lands she could, a parting gift of sorts. No, a princess did not have his luxuries. But it seemed, for now, everything was going to be alright.
Three years later, Princess Belle walked the halls of her castle. In her arms were three books. Her husband didn't care for her reading, but in the comfort of her room she refused to be denied the pleasure. She could not very well be expected to embroider her days away. Even the maids didn't grant her the freedom they would have years ago before the alliance and the marriage, and she was beginning to be driven crazy by it all. Between having a husband away most of the time dealing with the ogres that threatened Avonlea's borders, hearing her people's suffering day by day, and feeling like a caged bird she was being driven mad.
It had all fallen apart at her feet. The alliance had worked. The troops had driven the ogres back and for a year there was peace. Until they came back and in two short years they had pushed to threaten the fall of Avonlea. All seemed hopeless.
Until it wasn't.
"The Dark One was lost two years ago."
The maid's voice wisped through the hallway, causing Belle to pause and listen.
"He was under the control of The Duke, but one night there was a fire, and he disappeared just days before the ogres took the Frontlands."
"Surely The Dark One's price would be too high." Another maid said. "Or King Maurice would have paid it already to save Avonlea."
"No. There's a new Dark One. They say the curse is passed down somehow. The Dark One the Duke had is not the same monster."
Another voice joined in. "They say he is unlike any other Dark One before. A deal maker. His prices are fair sometimes but he's ruthless. And if you break a deal with him the price is death."
"They say sometimes he turns men into slugs just for looking at him wrong."
"And that he skins you alive if you steal from his Dark Castle."
"Surely the King wouldn't resort to dark magic."
"You summon him by saying his name three times. It's so odd."
"What's his name?"
A pause, and Belle found herself at the doorway of whatever room they were tending to now, straining to listen.
"Rumpelstiltskin."
The books hit the floor with a loud thud, and all the maids jolted with a squeak of surprise. Belle didn't stop her feet as it carried her to stand before the gossiping maids. They held less fear as they would have with someone like Gaston, but fear nonetheless.
"Milady we were—" One maid pleaded, knowing the subject they spoke of was taboo.
"Say again." Belle urged, heedless to the maid's words. "His name. Say again."
They were frightened now, but not of her. "Milady we can't—"
"Did you say his name was Rumpelstiltskin? You are absolutely sure?"
"Yes milady."
And before they could say another word or even call after her Belle was gone, rushing to her room with new purpose, books all but forgotten.
They had been mistaken. That was all. But they couldn't have. The name was unmistakable. The fire just before the Frontlands was taken. How he never appeared in Avonlea despite her checking since news of the fall…
"Rumpelstiltskin." She began. Because she had to know. "Rumpelstiltskin." She said again because something inside her had to be sure. "Rumpelstiltskin."
"I can't linger, dearie." A voice came from behind her.
She whirled around. He was standing at her window, looking out. He wore something like she'd never seen before. An odd sort of jacket trimmed in wisps of fur with a high collar, leather breeches, and high boots. Nothing like the simple tunic and cloak she remembered him in. No staff either. It occurred to Belle that she might have just made a grave decision in her impulse.
"Now if I were you I would make this a very quick one because— Belle?"
He had swirled around on his heel to face her, and she couldn't help the gasp that escaped her lips. His skin was odd, no longer smooth but had a sort of golden shimmer about it. And his eyes were dark, but she recognized the hook he gave her. That look of fear and hope all at once.
The spinner had become The Dark One.
"Something you needed?"
His voice was an odd sort of impish sing-song that Belle knew was false, but stepped closer all the same, eyes moving over him, searching. She really wasn't sure what to make of all this, and it was hard to deny the fear that welled in her gut.
"I'd heard…When they told me the name I had to be sure."
"Be sure of what, dearie?"
"Be sure it was you. That you…How?"
He shrugged, stepping around her now. To the untrained eye, he was now a wolf, but the way he walked was stiff, his eyes darting nervously to her, still remnants of a rabbit underneath.
"The ogres were coming. I had to protect my boy." He said simply.
"I told you to run!" She insisted, turning to follow him. "I told you to come here! I would have protected you and Baelfire. Do you know how worried I was? When you didn't show up after the word of the fall I thought…I hoped you'd ran."
"Now why would I do that, milady, when power was right there for me to take for my own?" He wagged a finger at her before she could speak. "You summoned me here dearie. And I told you I can't linger."
Princess Belle found herself at a loss for words. This was Rumpelstiltskin, but it was not the same man who had offered to share his hearth. This was not the spinner before her. This was The Dark One, and she was no longer in control of the situation.
She sighed. "The ogres are threatening the borders of Avonlea." She meant for her voice to sound firmer but it was riddled with guilt. "We, my people, are dying. Can you save us?"
"Well of course I can." He said with a scoff and a hand flourish. "For a price, milady."
"Name it." She said without hesitation. "I'm sure my father will give you any amount of gold you—"
"Oh I don't need gold. But if memory serves…you owe my boy a riding lesson."
"I—"
"And I have quite a few handkerchiefs that could do with some embroidery."
"Wha—"
He lifts a finger, silencing her. "My price, dearie. It's you."
Belle stumbled back a moment, taken aback by the boldness and the price. "Me?"
"Well I need a caretaker, you see." He explained, "For my rather large estate. And I'm sure Baelfire will enjoy the company."
Silence stretched between them, just as it had years before when she'd offered him the gold for his thread. But now the situation was reversed. The goods grander. The price higher. She found her eyes looking over him. His posture was straight, confident, but his eyes wouldn't meet hers. The spinner was underneath all that odd skin, and somehow that brought comfort to Belle.
"I'm married." She pointed out, needing it to be said for some reason.
"And you'd rather not leave your little dukeling?" He ventured. "I'm sure something else can be asked for…"
"No!" She protested. "I am a dutiful wife. There are no tender feelings in our marriage. It was arranged, because I was told it would put a stop to…to all this."
The Dark One's jaw clenched as his voice came, now closer to what it once was. "They lied I take it? And you caught in the middle, unable to escape."
"A princess does not have such luxuries."
Understanding flickered behind his eyes, and for a moment his arms came up, looking as if he wanted to embrace her, but then they fall back to his sides awkwardly.
"Well I'm sure an annulment can be made when they hear of the deal, milady. I doubt he'd wish to have a wife bound to a monster."
And then she was laughing, an oh-so-familiar sort of giggle that brought Rumpelstiltskin three years back when she was sitting at his wooden table sharing meager bread and tea. Now, however, he had more to offer her. Much more. But she was still laughing as if he'd said something silly.
"You, Rumpelstiltskin, are not a monster." She paused, biting her lip. "I'll need my horse…"
"I have stables." He said with a flippant wave of his hand.
"And proper clothes to clean in."
"An easy matter."
"And I'd like to bring a few things with me."
"Fine, fine." His voice held an edge of impatience. "Do we have a deal? It's forever, dearie."
"My family? My friends? They will all live."
He gave her a bow. "You have my word. And a Dark One always keeps his word."
The smile he offered her was uneasy, that of the spinner. And suddenly, Belle felt a weight come off of her shoulders. No. Even if it was not always as it seemed, the princess truly felt that everything was going to be alright, in the end.
"Then I will go with you, forever."
Boldly, he took his hand in hers. But it still shook like all those years ago as he brought it to his lips to place a kiss on her knuckles "Deal."
And then, somehow, Belle found herself at The Dark Castle with only one trunk of her belongings in tow. Her father had not been happy. Neither had Gaston. But Rumpelstiltskin, in his new boldness, was very persuasive.
"Lady Belle!" She only had a moment to slide off of Fillipe before Baelfire, the boy a bit taller now, was at her, embracing her happily. "You're here!"
"Yes I'm here." Belle said with a smile, hugging the boy back. "Were you a good boy? Did you help your father with his work and finish your chores before playing?"
Baelfire glanced uneasily to Rumpelstiltskin, and Belle could see something between them had changed. Well. No more of that, she decided.
"I did." He said with a firm nod.
"Then I think you deserve a riding lesson. Tomorrow morning, after I've settled in a bit."
"You…You're staying?"
"Well that was the deal." Rumpelstiltskin ventured cautiously. Baelfire nodded, seeming to accept this for now. "Come milady. Let me show you to your room."
The castle was grander than any she'd ever seen, her own room larger than that of the one she had at home.
"Don't you get lonely?" She asked him suddenly as she unpacked a few of her books.
"I have Bae. And I spin." He gave her a grin. "Straw into gold. You'll have to watch sometime."
Belle laughed, "I will. Oh."
There was a pause of silence, and from her trunk she produced a wooden box. Rumpelstiltskin recognized it immediately as the one he'd put spools of the thread she'd asked for years ago. She opened it now, producing a handkerchief, embroidered with an R in an elegant script.
"My um…my skills have improved I assure you." She said, handing him the cloth. "What do you think?"
Rumpelstiltskin took it cautiously, as if it would turn to ashes under his touch But it didn't. The embroidery was not the smoothest in the world, but for the life of him he couldn't find any flaws to it. Couldn't muster any snarky quips.
"You made this...for me?" The old desperation was back in his voice and she gave him a smile and a nod. He shook his head. "You were a princess. And you would make a gift for a lowly crippled spinner?"
Belle only shook her head, a small giggle escaping her lips. He said the oddest things. Things that surprised him but shouldn't. Things he didn't know how wrong he was about. She stepped forward without trepidation, putting her hand on his and ignoring how he flinched away.
"No. I, Belle, made a present for you, Rumpelstiltskin. Superficial titles are not important. Things are so much more…layered for that."
With a single touch she had pinned him. He was unable to move from her quizzical gaze and searching eyes. No, even as The Dark One he did not understand this woman, but that was okay.
"Rumple? Is everything alright?"
He blinked, remembering himself. "Of course, milady. Of course."
And then, somehow, they were. Even if she chipped a cup in his favorite tea set and almost killed herself falling off a ladder, everything was alright.