8

For a few days, they travel with no interruptions. Rumplestiltskin doesn't resume their lessons. The revelation of the fire has left his mind reeling, and he needs the time to regain solid ground. Belle doesn't question it. She simply walks beside him, continuing to allow him to pick the direction (although he's not actively searching for the Blue Faerie anymore), continuing to allow small, mundane conversations that ultimately mean nothing. It's comfortable, familiar.

It doesn't really help.

In fact, it's probably the reason he's in the predicament he's in right now. Belle is at the river, bathing. They've developed a routine for this. He patrols the area while she bathes. When she's decent, she calls for him. He never goes so far that he can't hear her.

This time he has. Lost in his own thoughts, he's wandered farther from her than he usually does. He can't hear her call, but right now that's only the second thing on his mind.

The first is the damned knights, dressed up in cloth and leather instead of steel armor, but still armed. They have him surrounded, and he really doesn't like being surrounded. Worse, they don't seem to know who they have cornered. Rumplestiltskin has often been compared to a wild animal – he may seem tame at times and to certain people, but if you ever want to see his teeth, back him into a corner. He'll show them – by burying them in your throat.

Magick dances at his fingers, but they can't see it. The six of them don't know the danger they're in. "What can I do for you, dearies?" he sneers. "Here to find a deal?"

The first one – a blonde man with bright blue eyes and a three-day shadow – scoffs at him. "We do not make deals with the Dark One." he snarls. His sword is in his hand, the light a deadly glint on the edge. "We are here to kill you. Word has spread of your travels. I thought you might come this way."

"Great. I'm predictable." That's not a pleasant thought, but still. He takes a bow, mind racing. Without his ability to transport, he's out half his tricks. He supposes he could just transport them, but well, that's no fun. "I'll just have to correct the assumption. I believe your skinless corpses will do the trick."

Someone behind him swallows. The leader glares at the offender. "You won't get far. Now be a good monster, and hold still. I'll make this painless. It's more than you deserve."

"I would not be very happy if you did that."

All eyes turn to the source of the voice. Rumplestiltskin barely has the time to mentally curse his companion before he catches sight of her. His breath leaves.

She always calls him when she's decent, but apparently she decided that it was far more important to find out what was keeping him. She hasn't bothered to dry off properly, and she doesn't have on anything more than the basics – cloth trousers, cloth tunic, both slightly wet and clinging. Her hair has gotten longer during their travels, and now the curls sparkle with water.

Apparently, the knights are suffering a similar affliction. The leader blinks slowly. "My lady." He bows to her. "What is a fair maiden like you doing in the company of a beast like this?"

Belle's gaze hardens. "That's easy enough." she says bitingly. "I am not a maiden, and he is not a beast." She steps forward. "Now leave us alone. We wish to continue traveling."

The leader frowns. "I'm sorry, my lady, but this monster must have you under some kind of spell. You cannot possibly be traveling with him on your own free will. Not dressed like that." He waves a hand at her. "A woman should dress her station."

Her gaze flickers at those words. Something flashes across her face, so quick Rumplestiltskin might have missed it had he not seen it before. Fear. She knows this knight, and she is afraid of him. She hides it well, but he has ridden through too many nightmares and stories for him not to see it.

She lifts her chin. "If there is a monster here, Sir Lance, it is you. Tell me, how is your lovely wife? Oh, wait – she's not lovely anymore. You cut her for smiling at a smitten young boy who brought her a flower. A mere weed given by a boy, and you took her beauty. Now you won't even look at her." There's acid in her voice, and Rumplestiltskin delights in it. Anything is better than the fear.

Sir Lance takes a step back. "How do you know me?"

"We've met before, not too long after you hurt your wife. You were bragging about it to my husband. It gave him ideas."

Lance brandishes his sword. "Hold her." he orders his knights. "I will teach her a lesson, right after I slay this beast."

"You will do neither." Belle snaps. "You will go away, or I will make you." Her power is rising. Rumplestiltskin recognizes what she's about to do.

"Easy, dearie." he warns. "All magick comes with a price."

Belle nods slightly. Lance doesn't seem to care. He waits until his knights have taken Belle by the arms (and Rumplestiltskin hates it, but she has not asked for his protection yet, and he can do nothing) before returning his attention to the imp. Lance grins. "I will be famous enough for King Arthur himself after this feat!" He raises his sword, ready to slash down, but nothing happens. He's held firmly in place, unable to fight his bonds. "What sorcery is this!"

"Mine." Belle says flatly. The other knights let go of her quickly, murmuring something about a witch. "Leave us alone."

Rumplestiltskin watches as two of the knights draw their swords. They slowly advance on her, not quite sure what to do next. His fists clench. "Belle."

She glances around. They're still outnumbered, the knights are still game for a fight, and there is only so long she can hold Lance like this. She doesn't have the knowledge to do more than one spell at a time. She meets the Dark One's eyes. He silently pleads with her to make a decision, and slowly, she nods. She never says the words, but she doesn't have to. Rumplestiltskin knows exactly what to do.

It doesn't take long. With her distracting the knights, he moves with lightning speed. Before she can register the sounds of the bodies falling, he's standing right behind her, close enough that she can feel his heat. It sends a thrill down her spine.

"What shall we do with that one, dearie?" he asks, his voice low and directly in her ear. She is acutely aware of even the smallest change in his posture. He's a familiar, comforting presence. One hand gently pulls her hair behind her ear. "By your own words, he is worthy of death."

"He is worthy of far more than that." she says softly.

His voice drops. "All you have to do is ask."

She closes her eyes. "I can't."

A soft chuckle. "One day you will. And I will gladly obey." He snaps his fingers, and Lance groans. "I have him, dearie. You can let go now." Belle gratefully sags against him. Rumplestiltskin wraps one arm around her waist and gently pulls her backwards, away from the frozen knight. "Tell anyone, and I will come back for you."

They don't wait around for the knight's reaction. Rumplestiltskin simply guides Belle away from the carnage. They make far enough that they can no longer hear the knight's frantic cursing before he lets go of her. He's about to find out just what price she paid for that bit of magick, but before he can get out the words, she acts.

She's hugging him, clinging to his chest like she thinks he'll disappear if she lets go. He stands there awkwardly, no longer touching her, unsure. "Belle?"

"What were you thinking?" she demands, never letting go. "You could have been killed, you idiot!" She's trembling hard, and not all of it is adrenaline. Slowly, he wraps his arms around her, holding her in place against his chest. He strokes her hair in an attempt to calm her. "You can't do that." she whispers. "You can't just get killed."

Rumplestiltskin doesn't apologize. It's not in his nature, and he hasn't done it in so long, he's not sure he remembers how. Instead he allows her to cling to him and says nothing. When the tremors finally stop, he realizes she's gone slack against him, the toll of the magick driving her to sleep.

He gently sets her on the ground and sits beside her, waiting for her to wake.

What was happening to him?