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He wasn’t in the mood to hear her sing. In fact, he wasn’t in the mood to hear anyone sing. This night, this very night, was the 247th Yuletide Eve he was spending…without his son. This night had no reason to celebrate, and he had no desire to hear anyone celebrate.
Even spinning his wheel didn’t help drown out the vocalizing coming from the other room. Suppressing an aggravated growl, the imp got to his feet and stalked out into the corridor.
A hundred threats hanging on the tip of his tongue, Rumplestiltskin shoved open the heavy doors to his ballroom, but all of his words fell away as he saw his maid prancing about, all alone on the vast marble floor. The slow twists of her little feet turning her around, the graceful swish of her blue dress, and the melody of her voice all but turned Rumple into a gaping, stuttering dark sorcerer.
Truly, he had noticed her beauty and grace from the first day they met, but this sight was something he couldn’t put into words.
The daydreaming maid took another spin, dipped back as if an invisible partner was leaning her over for a kiss during a waltz, and came back up, bright blue eyes fluttering open…and going alight with horror as she saw her master standing a couple of feet away from her. And just like that day on the ladder, she fell.
In a flash of purple smoke, Rumple was there to catch her before she hurt her backside on the cold floor.
“Thank you,” Belle mumbled, brushing off her dress, more flustered than she felt than that day on the ladder.
And Rumplestiltskin…beneath the golden skin, Belle was sure she saw a tint of pink covering his cheeks. Belle felt her lips quirking into a shy smile, but her master’s next response was enough to sober her up.
“Dearie, what have I told you about skipping your duties as the day wastes by?!” The Dark One regarded her with an angry sneer that clearly was intended to frighten her, but Belle could never be scared of him, especially because she knew that his cruel veneer was but a façade to hide a gentle and wounded soul.
“I’m sorry,” Belle apologized, but let him know he was not going to intimidate her by staring right back into his deep brown eyes. “You told me to clean this room next, and it just reminds me so much of my ballroom at home. I had dances every year on my birthday and Yuletide Eve.” She smiled sadly. “This year is my first Yuletide Eve without my mother, and the rest of my family.”
Instant guilt pricked Rumplestiltskin in the gut. So he was not the only one hurting this night. And yet Belle shrugged and clasped her little hands in front of her, her countenance so peaceful about all the dire circumstances that had befallen her in the past couple of months.
He narrowed his eyes, studying her intently. How do you overcome so easily? He wanted to ask, but then he remembered Bae and that his desire to let go of his pain and loss was what drove him to make his goal, and he bit his tongue.
An slightly awkward silence passed between them. And the Belle stepped backwards and picked up her broom, a task that she had been doing before singing and dancing distracted herself. “Um…well, I’ll keep cleaning now,” the embarrassed maid waved her free hand awkwardly, avoiding Rumplestiltskin’s gaze, which was a first…
Avoiding the gut-clenching feelings he was having for this beauty before him, Rumplestiltskin raised a warning finger and glared at her, “This ballroom better be spotless by the time I get back here at midnight. Otherwise, I’ll lock you in your room and give you nothing but moldy bread and stale water for a week.”
Belle chuckled at the threat, shocking and unnerving Rumple. And then she stopped, confusion furrowing her brow, “…Wait, what?” Curiosity rose in Belle. “Wh-where are you going?”
“My business is my business, dearie!” Rumple’s voice rose shrilly. “Just a business transaction at a nearby kingdom, nothing more. If you finish your duties before my return, you are free to roam the Dark Castle wherever you please, and…dance, or sing, or whatever it was that you were doing. Is that understood, maid?”
Belle giggled and nodded, mock curtsying. “Yes, sir.”
The nervous imp drew back, befuddled by how this woman could be so unafraid of him, and be so friendly. He cleared his throat. “And now back to…whatever it was that you were doing, dearie.”
With that, he vanished in a puff of smoke.
The day drew to a close. Belle sat alone in Rumple’s ridiculously large dining room, enjoying roast pheasant and raisin cakes with cinnamon and honey. Through the window, the sun lay down between the snow-topped mountains of the Dark Castle’s land, and an invisible hand painted the sky pink and orange.
The lonely maid munched on strips of pheasant, wishing she knew what else she could do. The ballroom floor was squeaky clean, the curtains dusted, and the tall glass windows shiny. That was all Rumple has requested of her, knowing the task would cost Belle the entire day, considering the size of the room.
And, unbeknownst to Rumple, Belle had already roamed nearly the entire castle on a rainy day when Rumple had been away visiting some evil queen for a typical deal. In his absence, Belle had discovered two sub-levels of dungeons, all empty except for her room, a kitchen, the dining room she was in now, the front room where Rumple did most of his spinning and met with his dealmakers, various different empty rooms…Belle shook her head. What possible use did the imp have for those unused rooms?
There was one more room, Belle remembered, and it was at the base of a winding stone staircase which led to a mysterious tower, a room Rumplestiltskin had recently shown her, which was plenteous of books and magical objects. Rumplestiltskin told her that room was where he did most of his magic experiments, and yet most of the books he had were of little use to him. In a veiled invitation for her to come and read them anytime, he snippily ordered her to dust the bookshelves and keep them clean.
Belle remembered that night as the first night she realized she felt…something new for this strange wizard. He tried so well to be cunning and ruthless, but Belle’s heart told her that there was something deeper past the layers of the dark wizard, something borne of pain, and loss, and fear. Something that the sorcerer was desperately trying to hide under his veneer of cruelty. And that was why she didn’t fear him.
But last week, Belle has been dusting the bookshelves when she noticed Rumplestiltskin had a new item in his possession: a cloak that made you invisible. Impulsively, Belle had tried it on, but in the process of yanking the cloak off the table of magical supplements, she spilled some potions on the cloak and ruined its magic. The cloak could make one invisible, but there would be a green stain clearly visible to the human eye. Enraged, Rumplestiltskin forbade her to go into the tower by herself again; she would have to enter accompanied at all times now.
Belle sighed to herself, wishing she was more careful with Rumplestiltskin’s things. Why couldn’t he have just gotten over it like the chipped cup? She mused to herself. I’m out of books to read and really want to go up there to find a new book…
“You are free to roam the Dark Castle wherever you please…” Rumple’s voice trilled in her head, sparking an idea in Belle.
She would go up into that tower. Should Rumplestiltskin catch her in the act, she would only repeat what he’d said to her. It was only right and reasonable. It’s not like I have anything else I could do. I need something new to read!
Abandoning her meal, Belle got to her feet and rushed out of the room to venture down the dark corridor, headed for the tower. She caught sight of the steps, the light from the tower casting a glow across the stairs. Belle took a hasty step forward—and tripped over a broom she’d forgotten from before. The broom bumped twice against the floor, making thud noises that echoed down the hallway. The maid froze, petrified that the Dark One might catch her in the act.
Oh, that’s right. He wasn’t here. Blowing a sigh of relief, Belle pranced upstairs as quietly as a swift doe in the woods. The scent of books and hardwood assailed her senses, and Belle’s lips curved in a smile of anticipation. Should I read a story about romance…or a story about war…or a story about the sea?
The curious maid entered the Dark One’s “magic-room-and-library”…and then her quest for books was forsaken when she noticed a new object on Rumplestiltskin’s table.
A mirror. Not just any ordinary mirror; its frame was a sparkling white oval with a brilliant silver diamond handle. Belle had never seen a mirror so beautiful and exquisite in her whole life—and she was a princess. “Oh,” Belle gasped softly as she found herself drawn to the table by an invisible string. The mirror lay on the corner, next to Rumplestiltskin’s book of magic objects.
The Mirror of Visions was a special object in which one had to look at the self’s reflection, silently ponder about what or who he really wanted, and the reflection in the mirror would change and show where the object of the person’s desire was. Rumplestiltskin had reluctantly explained it to her yesterday, and it since then had intrigued Belle.
And now she had an opportunity. Her hands eagerly snatched the mirror, and she gazed into her own reflection. Tell me where Rumplestiltskin is, she asked.
A whoosh of purple smoke overtook her, and before Belle knew what was happening, she found herself on a long, moonlit veranda with marbled, intricately designed pillars and tall bushes lining the outside of the veranda.
And before her was Rumplestiltskin, his back to her, and a couple dressed in elegant ball clothes. The couple, a tall man with a tall hat and a woman with curly chestnut hair, clung to each other, clearly frightened by the Dark One.
“Didn’t I warn you, dearies?” Rumple’s trilling voice taunted them, “A deal broken, means the Dark One breaks you!”
“We’re so sorry,” the woman begged, her hand tentatively reaching out until her husband pulled it back, holding her away from Rumplestiltskin. “Our son wants to have nothing to do with you, so we can’t let you near him.”
“No matter!” Rumplestiltskin snapped, his hands about to wave over them and conjure them into something inhuman. The woman let out a small cry and buried her head into her husband’s chest.
“Rumplestiltskin!” Belle shouted, grabbing his arm. She stopped him from killing Robin Hood; she could stop him from destroying those two.
“What?!” The dismayed Dark One cried, shocked at the sight of his maid standing before him in the middle of his deals. He was just about to get to his favorite part…
“Don’t do this,” Belle pleaded, “Whatever the problem is, it can be worked out without hurting anyone.”
“Who’s this?” The woman and man asked curiously in unison as Rumple glared at her, “What the hell are you doing here?!”
Bell opened her mouth to explain, but Rumplestiltskin cut her off, “Never mind that. Off back to my estate you go,” he started to wave his hand, but Belle grabbed it again. “No! I won’t let you do this—hurt people j-just because they didn’t hold their end of the deal.” She sent the couple a pleading stare, “Can you hold your end of this deal, whatever it is?”
The man sighed and smoothed a hand down his white uniform, his ringed fingers making sharp noises against the golden buttons and insignias across his bodice. “We had a deal with this imp to teach our son how to spin straw into gold, in exchange for free and unlimited access in our kingdom…”
“And then I changed my mind. I don’t trust dark magic, and if this imp is going to teach our son dark magic, then I want no part of this in his life.” The woman finished.
Rumplestiltskin let out a snarl of anger, “And now you will pay the price. I asked, fair and square, for access into your kingdom, and this is how you repay me—changing your petty little minds at the last minute, and as a result, disrupting mine!” With a roar, he raised his hand again, and Belle threw herself in front of the king and the queen of this land Rumplestiltskin seemed to obsessed with crossing freely.
“Out of the way, maid!” Rumplestiltskin snapped at her, confusion and concern worrying his brow. “I’m busy right here, and I’m still in need for a help, so I don’t wish to turn you into a snail!”
“No.” Belle hid the tremble in her voice and challenged Rumplestiltskin with her own glare. “They were wrong to break the deal, but you don’t need to make this worse by destroying their lives. Does it really matter, Rumplestiltskin? You once told me you’d made so many deals with so many realms…why should this one make a difference? What more can they offer? Rumplestiltskin, please, just forget this. This is a night for celebration and good tidings, not some…shady deals and scaring people.” Belle inhaled deeply, her throat choking up with…what? She didn’t know.
“I know you’re hurting, Rumple,” she continued, seeing that Rumplestiltskin had gone completely silent, staring at her warily as the king and the queen remained the same, but no doubt they had Belle in their favor. “And I know you don’t like to admit it. You’re looking for something—I don’t know what. But I’m telling you this: whatever you plan to do with them…it won’t satisfy what you’re searching for. It only makes you more of a monster, and I know you’re not, Rumplestiltskin. Please, don’t do this. Come back home, and…and I’ll celebrate with you, in whatever you want, or I can just leave you alone, but either way, it will mean that you made a good choice tonight. Can you do that, Rumplestiltskin?”
All was silent except for the frigid wind that blew softly through the veranda. Rumplestiltskin’s face was a mixture of conflicted emotion—anger, uncertainty, fear…and then resignation. With a disgusted glance at the rulers of this realm, Rumplestiltskin grabbed Belle’s arms and pulled her gently to his chest. “If I hear from you two royal gold grubbers again, I will keep to my word that you’ll be nothing but little snails by the end of the day!” He snarled at them before vanishing with Belle in purple smoke.
They found themselves in the ballroom of his castle. Belle cringed at Rumplestiltskin’s scowl. “I hope you’re happy, dearie,” he muttered before turning to leave.
“Are you?” Belle asked quietly, rubbing her cool, bare arm where Rumple’s grip had left its warm mark.
Rumplestiltskin stopped short in his tracks. He turned around slowly to face her again. “What did you say?”
Belle gazed at Rumplestiltskin, uncomprehending of her feelings for him, but sure of what she had to say. “Would having your own way made you happier?”
Belle never failed to render Rumplestiltskin speechless. It took a full, awkward moment for him to reply. “…They wouldn’t have made snails big enough for me to crush, anyway.” He sneered.
“And you aren’t the kind of person to leave a child orphaned. Just like you spared Robin Hood and his lady love when you saw she was with child.” Belle countered back softly, smiling at him knowingly.
At a loss for words, Rumplestiltskin turned on his heel and stalked towards the doorway. Time to go to bed and dream of being with his child again one day. I’ll find you, Bae. I still promise.
“Wait,” the maid’s voice reached his ears, and oddly enough, Rumplestiltskin didn’t find it annoying anymore. “Yes?” He sighed as wearily as he could feign.
“Will you dance with me?”
“Eh?” Rumplestiltskin whirled around, wondering if he needed to improve his hearing.
“Dance with me…” Belle glided across the floor to him, “…It’s my Yuletide Eve tradition. I would do it with my parents, every year. This year…I have you to spend it with. So…” boldly, she took his scaly hand into her smooth hand, “…Dance with me, please?”
“…I…I haven’t danced in a long time, dearie,” Rumplestiltskin tried to tug free gently, nervous about being so close to her.
“It’s okay,” Belle giggled and put her other hand on his shoulder. “I’ll help you if you don’t remember the steps.”
Rumplestiltskin attempted to gulp very subtly as he placed his hand on her slender waist. He took one step back, and Belle followed. One step to the left. To the right. To the front. And repeat.
“Isn’t this nice?” Belle beamed up at him.
And Rumplestiltskin only smiled back, very slightly. His feelings for this maid were strange…and unwelcome…and certainly very, very frightening. Especially when he has a suspicion that those feelings were…returned. And how could she, possibly?
But for Belle’s sake—and Bae’s—tonight, he would try to be happy, just for once. Bae would want him to be happy. And Belle wanted him to be happy.
And Rumplestiltskin wanted Belle to be happy. He let go of Belle’s waist for a second, and with a flick of his wrist, sudden music came flowing into the ballroom.
And Belle’s bright smile never looked more beautiful.
Cautiously, Rumplestiltskin pulled Belle closer to his chest, wanting to feel more of her in his arms. She was so small, so delicate, and a sweet smell of roses wafted off her. He almost leaped away in shock when Belle willingly bumped her body against his and stayed near. He felt a crooked grin spreading across his face, and quickly tamped it down, pretending he wasn’t feeling anything coming out between them. It was just a dance.
After a few more graceful twirls, Rumplestiltskin automatically did the ending dip, tilting Belle’s back and making her bend backwards…which was a mistake. Rumplestiltskin found his face mere inches from hers, and he was hit with the ridiculous urge to kiss her right then and there. He shuddered, yanked her back up, and unceremoniously pulled away. “Oh!” Belle gasped, confused. She truly had been enjoying the entire dance, and guilt punched Rumplestiltskin in the stomach.
He glared at her, busying away the butterflies in his belly. And then the slightly hurt and disappointed look on her face melted the hardness in Rumplestiltskin’s heart….just a little. He sighed, and put up his arm in the air, pulled down, and presented to her a small book with a brown hardcover.
“Mythological creatures. I know how much you are interested in the topic, dearie, but I find it rather frivolous. There aren’t many out there, save for dragons.” He explained as offhandedly as possible, tilted his head in superiority, and narrowed his eyes at her, “You better not be up all night reading that. You have a lot of work to do tomorrow, and I don’t care that it’s Yuletide Day.”
Belle clasped the book close to her chest and sent Rumplestiltskin the most adoring gaze anyone ever had given him, save for his own son. But it was a different kind of adoration…something more…passionate. “Thank you, Rumplestiltskin.” She whispered before leaving the room, humming to herself.
Subconsciously, Rumplestiltskin’s hand trailed up to his chest, wondering how it was possible that he could fall in love again.
And how unfathomably possible that someone might fall in love with…him.