Kittens in the Dark

“No. Never.” she answered. That couldn’t be right. “They were… red I think?” “Your head is in the clouds today, ma chère. Here, have my drink, it’s quite good.”

She handed Belle a teacup, her favorite one, with the lovely hand-painted blue and gold details. Belle shivered as she ran her finger around the smooth rim of the porcelain, trying to absorb its heat.

“Don’t you think it’s cold in here, mum?” Lady French smiled, “Those windows are drafty. Here, your blanket.”

Belle gratefully took it, and flexed her fingers a few times. They were stiff from the chill in the air. “Look at you, ma jolie,” she smiled warmly, fussing Belle’s hair down around her shoulders, “Everyone is so proud of you.” “Proud of me?”

“For what you did to save us. That’s true heroism, Belle. No one else was brave enough to do what needed to be done, except you. My clever girl.” Belle smiled, “Father didn’t want me to at first, but there were so many casualties. It would have been stupid not to call for help.” Lady French gave her a knowing smile, “Well, your father can be… stubborn,” she chuckled, “but thankfully he had you to call on Rumplestiltskin.”

Rumple. The room tilted on its axis.

“Rumple! Where—“

“Belle! He’s getting ready. You’ll see him soon! Bonté divine, the two of you are inseparable,” her mother chided, “You should have your drink, your nerves are getting you.”

“You were brave enough to go with that beast, this ball should be easy for you,” her father griped.

“Maurice. You agreed to not call him that anymore. He’s family.” Lady French scolded.  “Right,” he winked at Belle, “I meant to say son in law.”

Belle giggled, before another shiver ran through her, so hard it made her teeth chatter this time.  

“Honey, have your drink! It will warm you up,” her father advised. She finished the cup and grimaced, it was strong. Her mum handed her another. “Tis the season,” she said, and clinked Belle’s cup with hers.

The ball was packed with a town that still lived because of her. An entire ballroom filled with the tangible difference she had made. The thought kept her calm as they all commended her for her sacrifice. Everyone was enjoying themselves, but she felt uneasy. She had been drinking and socializing for… she wasn’t sure how long, but it seemed long because she was searching for a certain face in the crowd. Even here, she was cold. The floor to ceiling windows were the likely culprit. The view outside was obscured halfway up with snow. Her stomach twisted and she had the oddest sensation of being buried alive when looking at it. Her head spun, but then she felt a steady hand at her back.

“Found you, dearie. Enjoying the festivities?” Rumple pulled her close.

“Rumple…” she could breathe again, “Where have you been?”

“Making arrangements! Your big night must be perfect!” he explained, his skin glinting in the low candlelight.

“But our deal… I thought...” her head hurt.

“Our deal was forever, Belle. You’re still giving me that,” he caressed her back gently, “Just in another way.” Belle grinned, “I found the loophole.” He rolled his eyes, but not without affection, “I think you found more than that, darling.” He kissed her hand, and twirled her, but she stumbled. He looked at her curiously, “Bit too much to drink?” “Sorry, I… I don’t know, I feel..” she tried to apologize but everything was spinning again. She squeezed his hand, just wanting to feel something solid. The cold seemed to be in her very bones. “You’re overwhelmed..” he noted, his golden eyes fixed on her in that unnerving way. “I should stay..” she reasoned, “Everyone’s here for me.” “That may be so, but what do you want? Give me the word, and we can get away from all of this.” “And what would we do… I wonder..” she mused, giving him a coquettish smile. “That’s up to you, dearie,” he smirked, “We can do what we did last night...”

Belle flushed, “That was at the castle…. Not my parent’s home.” He scoffed, “What, you can’t read in bed with me at your parent’s home? I think they know you read,” he joked, “Now get your head out of the gutter, and tell me what you want.” She wanted to go somewhere warm and to be out of this crowd, “Can we go home, Rumple?” He grinned, “I love hearing you say that.” —---------------------------------------- Rumple returned home but Belle was nowhere to be found. These days she was often found curled up by the fireplace, reading away. He hadn’t lit the fire before during winter because, well, The Dark One didn’t get cold. But now it was always going and he had to admit it was nice. But this evening, he returned to a cold, dark room. No Belle. No heartbeat in his chest. “Belle..?” He called, to no answer. He searched all her usual places: the kitchen, the window in the west wing, his tower, the library and lastly, her room. No dice. The Dark One voices were clamoring. She’s run far away from you. You should hunt her down, punish her for ever daring to– No. There weren't any footprints in the snow, and Belle wouldn’t have– She would. She hates you. Rumple took a deep breath. She had probably been kidnapped again. Why did he ever leave her alone? Who’s great idea was it to get a maid anyway? He ran a hand through his hair. Agitation, worry and darkness pulled him in different directions, before they finally faded into one voice, his own thoughts. A finding spell. That’s all he needed. That, and a talisman of hers. That chipped cup would do. He ran to the cupboard they kept it in, but stopped when he saw something out of its place. There on the counter, NOT on the highest shelf away from curious little maid fingers, was his snow globe. A nasty piece of work reserved for his trickier enemies. His heart sank so far it could have hit the center of the earth. She couldn’t have. No. She would. Absolutely, she would. In a fit of pure panic he hurled the snow globe at the floor. Glass, liquid and fake snow shattered all over the ground. And, oh, he could cry. 

A shivering, disoriented and ALIVE Belle.

“BELLE!” He pulled her up. Her skin was ice cold, so he quickly removed his cloak and wrapped her in it, his rage climbing rapidly.

“HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU NOT TO TOUCH MY THINGS?!” She flinched, and he realized he was shaking her. He let her go. “I’m–mmm, I’m–” she tried, but couldn’t form the words. He huffed and led her in front of the fireplace, lighting it to a full blaze with a snap of his fingers. He could smell alcohol on her, too. It must have been trying to dull her senses. “Sorry doesnae CUT it, dearie! You’re freezing, drunk, and nearly DEAD!” he raged, “Didn’t your parents ever tell you not to touch things that aren’t yours?!” Belle burst into tears. He scoffed, pretty tears weren’t going to– “Mummm!” she bawled, frantic, “I just saw her, I- I touched her, she was RIGHT there,” she pushed her face into his chest, “… I love her, Rumple..” So that’s what she had seen in there. He sighed, yes he was furious with her, but he knew what it was like to lose someone you love. After a moment’s hesitation, he enclosed his arms around her. “Oh Belle… None of that was real… Try to put it out of your mind. Like a bad dream.” She sniffled, “It was a lovely dream. I wish it were real… Mum and dad were so happy… You were too..” “Ah, yes. Big dreams of vanquishing the monster?” he sneered. She pouted, “No… We were dancing together.” That gave him pause. The snow globe was built to entrap someone using their… He looked at her curiously. Maybe she was wrong, magic could muddle the mind. “And you’re such a good dancer!” She continued, sliding her hands up to his chest. Oh no. He stepped away quickly.

“What are you doing?” he stammered. “And you’re just,” she closed the distance between them, “SO lovely. And you don’t even KNOW it, Rumple,” she whined.

He placed his hands on her shoulders, keeping her at arm's length, “You are drunk,” his face burned, “You don’t know what you’re saying.” Belle stood her ground, “Yes I do. Everyone is always– ALWAYS deciding FOR me what I want or what I should think, but I know what I think.” “Very astute.” She pointed at him, “and you NEVER take things seriously.” Damn her liquid courage. His eyes narrowed as he slapped her finger away, “And neither do you, dearie. You almost died tonight, and why is that? Because you were touching. My. Things. Disobeying me, like ALWAYS! Need I remind you who exactly you’re contracted to? Because it seems you’ve forgotten,” he warned. Belle rolled her eyes, “I’m not scared of you. You aren’t scary, you’re just…” “Just what?” he hissed. His patience was wearing thin. “Scared, I think.” He scoffed, “I’m done with this. I’m not going to argue with my MAID.” He was about to send her to bed, although he WANTED to send her to the bloody dungeon, but she grabbed his wrist. “I know that’s not all I am to you, Rumple, and you’re important to me too. Don’t you like spending time with me?” “Belle. Don’t do this,” he warned, “Just go to bed, and we’ll talk about how you’ll make this up to me in–” “No! You need to face this, Rumple! Why can’t you accept what’s between us?” she begged, “What are you SO afraid of!?” She was being wildly stubborn about this. “I’m a monster, Belle!” She groaned, “You’re not! A monster wouldn’t plant flowers, or dance or–or help take care of a baby! You’re not a monster, Rumplestiltskin.” “Not a monster… yet!” he couldn’t hear another word of this, “You like me now, but one day you’ll see me for what I am like everyone else,” his voice trembled, “No one could ever love me, Belle. Not even my own parents. Everyone who has ever known me came to the same conclusion. And the one person who did care? I abandoned him. I let him down, to become THIS,” he gestured to himself wildly, “A MONSTER!” He was shaking. He hated that he couldn’t meet her eyes, couldn’t do anything but stand there like a fool, but Belle took him in her arms. He didn’t fight it. She was still chilled, so he pulled her closer, her head tucked under his chin. “Rumple, I am so sorry that happened to you… You’re talking about your kid, right?” He stiffened. How did she know?

“You don’t have to tell me… but I just want you to know that.. I believe you’re worthy of being loved. And y’know what else?” she asked, tapping his chest, “I think you’re a good man, and I want to know you… Don’t you want to know me too?”

He did. Oh gods, he did. But she couldn’t mean any of this. She just needed her sleep.

“What I want…  Is for you to go to bed.” and with a snap of his fingers she was gone.