By Blood and Darkness

Part 3

Fall

"In the silence you will find me; wallowing in the depravity of the human soul. Lost to mortality, I live not within your world. By fear and death. By loss and sorrow. By danger and tragedy. I am neither light nor love. I exist by blood and darkness."

The Dark One had not been seen in several days. Had not been summoned in nearly a week. It was not necessary to be about the castle unless his master had use of him and yet he found himself wandering the stone corridors. It was not, of course, in the hope that he would see a brunette head disappearing around a corner, or happen upon the sound of her laughter. It was simply that he had nothing else to do.

When he had looked about at the slightest noise for the hundredth time he shook his head. He found himself hovering somewhere between confused and angry; his mind returning to the night of the ball over and over again. Had that buffoon Gaston not interrupted them, he would have the memory of Belle's lips, her soft touch, her silky hair ...perhaps more, to ponder as he roamed and it was this, more than anything, that he found both frightening and irritating. He should not care about the stunning eyes of his masters daughter. He should not want her with a desperation that was staggering. He should not resent Gaston with such a fiery passion. It felt as if, should he come upon the young knight, he would not only kill him, but spread his ashes to the farthest corners of the realm.

What had possessed him to give that girl is true name? The last time he'd allowed himself to be vulnerable had been a disaster; a moment in his life he would give anything to forget. He had promised himself that he would never find himself in that situation again and he hadn't. For nearly half a century he had guarded his heart knowing with absolute certainty that he could not love or be loved. It was a part of the curse and he would not change it. He was the Dark One. The man that had once been Rumplestiltskin so long forgotten he was unsure why he still went by that name. He was a monster and a woman had no place in his world, much less in his heart.

He sighed. She had his mind completely twisted around. He should find her and simultaneously scratch the itch she had created and use her up until there was nothing left. That would be the easiest answer and when he was finished, perhaps Maurice would send him away or kill him. It was with that purpose in mind that he turned and went to where he was certain he could find her. He was going to end this. One way or another.

#

Belle was in the library which was, in and of itself, not surprising, but her mind was unwilling to allow her the concentration she needed to read. She was preoccupied; restless. Her mind going to Rumplestiltskin far more than was healthy ...or normal. He was the Dark One, after all. A sorcerer of the darkest magic meant to be feared and yet as she tried to shake off the memory of his warmth, of his eyes, of his lips so close to her own she knew it was a wasted effort. She could still feel his breath tickle her face, still see the light of interest shimmering in his eyes. It was something she had not seen in anyone's eyes for a very long time. It was not that he was physically attracted to her, that would have been more than easy to ignore, it was that he genuinely listened to her, seemed to think her intelligence was a good thing and not inappropriate. He did not expect her to be anything other than who she was and she found that horribly attractive. She simply could not stop thinking of him.

She sighed and stood up, searching the shelves for something more interesting. She discarded several books, realizing with mounting irritation that she had read them all. She piled some of them together and walked to the ladder. It was probably best to shelve them before pulling down another group. She paused at the base of the ladder. It was old and splintering from years of wear and use. She was surprised her footprints weren't permanently set in the wood given how many times she had gone up and down. She had mentioned to her father that they should replace it several months ago, but his thoughts had been consumed with worry for his knights; with ogres and wars and death. She didn't blame him for forgetting and she was not about to disturb him now. Although it was early afternoon, she knew her father had not yet risen and she was hesitant about waking him. He had looked so very tired for the last several days, his face gaunt and pale from lack of sleep. She would happily let him sleep all day.

Belle climbed about halfway up and deposited her stack of books on the shelf, lining them up neatly before climbing higher to find new ones. She started when a voice spoke from beneath her.

"While I appreciate the view, my Lady, perhaps you should not test the shoddy workmanship of that ladder."

Belle felt her heart speed up and her breath catch in her throat. She knew she should not react to him in this way. It was at best dangerous and at worse, deadly. She shoved her feelings away and glanced at him, rolling her eyes. "There is nothing wrong with this ladder."

Rumplestiltskin snorted. "Really? It looks as if it's about to crumble under your feet."

She turned back to the books in front of her, dismissing him. Half of her hoped he would take the hint and leave her alone and the other half was happy that he had sought her out. It was so confusing. She wanted him and yet she knew she couldn't have him. It was an impossible situation that she should forget. If she wanted a perfect suitor, someone she could call husband she was going to have to take matters into her own hands and actively look. Her father seemed settled on Gaston and she had no intention of spending her life with him.

She gathered several books and balanced them precariously in one hand while starting to descend. She was two steps down when her dress caught on the rung. Without thinking, she leaned her weight forward, and released her grip on the ladder momentarily to free her clothes before they were ruined. She had not considered the weight of the books and wobbled as they pulled her backwards. She over corrected, trying to regain her balance and felt her feet slipping. Belle dropped the books and grasped frantically at the wood, but she was already too far away. Her feet went out from under her and she dropped like a stone toward the hard floor. She had only seconds to realize she was about to die and then she landed. It was not nearly as painful as she expected. Warmth enveloped her, strong arms came around her and she could smell the scent of forest and leather. Belle opened her eyes. She was being held in Rumplestiltskin's arms, pressed against his chest.

His breathing was labored and he looked angry. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?" He spat at her and Belle paled. She had dismissed him and had he not stayed against her wishes she would very likely be dead now. When she didn't respond, his face softened. "Belle? Are you alright?"

Her mind was running rampant. The warmth of his body pressing against her was causing her hair to stand on end and her skin to tingle. She stared into his face; unwilling to move. "I think so." She paused, trying to take stock of all her limbs. "Thank you."

Rumplestiltskin growled deep in his chest. This girl was going to be the death of him, but as he stood there, with his arms wrapped around her, looking into her sapphire eyes, he simply couldn't find it in him to care. He pulled her closer and crushed his lips to hers. She went still for only a moment before her arms encircled his neck and she responded in kind. He traced the seam of her mouth with his tongue and she gasped, giving him the opening he needed to plunge in and consume her. The need to taste her had been following him, tormenting him for days. She was vanilla and honey, sunshine and innocence and he could not have stopped himself had he tried. He pushed every doubt into the back of his mind and tightened his arms. She didn't pull away from him; her hands gripped his shoulders, her fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck and sent lightening rocketing through his body.

Belle had never been kissed in this way before. His tongue found her own and traced around it until things low in her body tightened causing her to press closer to him. Her hands left his nape when she realized he was not going to drop her, and plunged into his hair, combing through the curls, and scraping her nails over his scalp. She heard a low moan and it took several moments for her to realize it had come from her. The hand under her knees caressed the back of her thigh as the kiss deepened, becoming something more frantic, almost desperate, although Belle was unsure what it was she wanted. Her mind clouded over with pleasure. She had not known it was possible to feel like this simply because of a kiss. Gaston had attempted to kiss her once before and it had been disgusting. An intrusion she did not appreciate. There was nothing in the feeling of Rumplestiltskin's warm lips and soft tongue that made her feel anything but need.

It ended as suddenly as it had begun. He released her, placing her on her feet and stepping away. She felt the absence of his heat in every fiber of her being. When her eyes found his he looked flushed, his hair was tousled, and his eyes were filled with confusion and what she could only describe as fear.

He stepped away from her and he had no idea why. She was responding to him as if they were lovers and he knew he could take her now if he chose to do so. He should. He wanted to. He could take advantage in this moment and do things to her body that would leave her trembling and naked in his arms. And yet ...he didn't. He backed away from her as if burned and waited for her to come to her senses. He watched as the need and desire drained from her eyes and shock settled in it's place. What she had just done, what she had been offering, slowly took over her face. He assumed he would find disgust there when she realized, but even as she reached up to touch her lips, he did not see it. Surprise, yes. Shock, yes. A healthy dose of fear and an altogether unhealthy glimmer of want, but not disgust.

"I would leave you to read." He bowed awkwardly and started for the door, only stopping at the sound of her voice.

"Rumplestiltskin?"

He should go, walk away and pretend he did not hear her. But, as seemed par for the course today, he did not. He stopped, but did not turn toward her. "What is it, Belle?"

"I'm sorry."

He had expected many things in that moment. Her apology was not one of them. He turned to face her. "Why?"

Belle met his eyes. He could see strength there and more surprising, sadness. "I do not wish you to be enslaved to my father."

He was silent for several minutes before he finally shrugged. "There is nothing you can to do change it, my lady. I would advise you against even considering it. Do not forget who I am, Belle. Do not forget what I am capable of."

Rumplestiltskin walked out of the library and this time, Belle let him go. She could still feel the pressure of his lips; still taste the forest on her tongue and it made her want on a level she did not care to evaluate. He was right. He was darkness, he was danger and should she free him, he would kill not only her, but her father and even if he didn't, even should he promise to leave them unscathed, he would be gone and she would never see him again. She was not willing to take that chance.