Author: Aurifer
Prompts: 3 am talks. Robbery. “You’re stuck with me.”
Group: A
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out of hows and whys not whens
"Wait!"
The stagecoach slowed its rattling pace across the inn's courtyard and Belle put in a sprint, her feet slipping precariously on the rain-wet cobblestones.
"Wrong coach, Miss," the coachman called when she caught up. "This one's bought out."
Don't I wish…
"I've got a seat," Belle told him, brandishing the slip of paper. "It's all cleared with the proprietor." She didn't wait for a reply, opening the door for herself and climbing inside, heedless of the driver's protests. The solitary passenger glanced up when Belle dropped into the opposite row of seats.
"This a private coach, dearie," he said drily.
Belle froze at the sound of his voice. Not him. Nobody could be this unlucky.
She debated simply leaving but gathered her courage and pushed back the hood of her travelling cloak, instead. Elias Gold, a slight man with unfashionably long hair and the most piercing brown eyes, blinked in confusion.
Then he visibly recoiled. "Belle?"
Belle almost wanted to deny it. No, she might say, maybe you're thinking of some other girl who's head you turned before disappearing for five years. She'd believed that infatuation behind her, but after barely a minute near him, the air had already gone out of the enclosed space.
She couldn't stop staring at his lips.
Damn the man.
"Mr Gold," she said, dragging her eyes away. "How… unexpected to see you again."
His face shut down. "Likewise, Miss French. I was under the impression that I had bought all the seats on this coach."
So it was going to be like this. "You should apply to the coaching inn for a refund, then." The coach lurched and sped up. "But unless you would like to jump out, you're stuck with me."
"It seems that I am." He hadn't taken his eyes off her once, and Belle found herself shifting uneasily under his scrutiny.
"I never heard about your return to the country," she said finally.
"Because I planned on keeping it quiet and leaving quickly." Gold's mouth twisted mockingly. "It might be best if we continued this journey in silence."
Her face burned, but Belle kept her chin raised. "It might."
So they did. Without conversation and darkness falling over the passing landscape, it was hard to tell how much time passed. Belle dozed off more than once, only to jerk awake when they hit a particularly uneven patch of road.
Gold, meanwhile, had taken to staring out the window. For all the attention he paid his fellow passenger, Belle might as well not have existed.
No changes there, then.
Despite her bitter thoughts, Belle was about to doze off again, when she felt the carriage slow down. She glanced outside. "Where's the inn?"
"I doubt this is a planned stop." Gold reached for his cane. "Maybe we should-"
Both doors of the coach slammed open and Belle only had an impression of shapes in the dark before her eyes focused on the barrel of the gun shoved at her face.
"Out," a half-muffled voice commanded.
Before she could react, a hand closed around her upper arm, dragging her outside. It all happened both too fast and so very slowly at once.
"Don't make a fuss," a vaguely familiar voice—the coachman—said. "This isn't about you."
She turned enough to glare at him. Somewhere in the dark, Gold was shouting. "Let go of- Where's Belle? Belle?!"
Her chest tightened at the note of panic in his voice. "Here!"
"Shut it." The barrel of the pistol jabbed into her side again.
Two more men—six in total, Belle thought—brought Gold around. He looked ruffled, but not injured, and when his eyes found hers, something of the tightness in Belle's chest eased.
"Belle," he breathed. "Are you-"
"You shut it, too!" one of the robbers snapped.
"Did you get the case?" the coachman asked.
"Yeah," one of the men flanking Gold replied. "Stuffed under his seat."
"I didn't trust it to storage," Gold said archly. "Congratulations, gentlemen. It's a rare occasion when I haven't been paranoid enough."
Belle almost smiled. She had missed him.
"Good." The coachman looked around uneasily. "We should go."
"But what about-"
"We got what we came for, let's go," the coachman urged.
He appeared to be the leader of the bunch, because despite some grumbling, the others followed his lead and, after tying both Belle and Gold to the carriage, rode off, taking the coach horses with them. Belle closed her eyes for a moment, breathing slowly to calm her hammering heart. Next to her, Gold was a solid, warm presence, and all she wanted was to press her face into the crook of his neck. Neither of them made a sound while they listened to the hoofbeats disappearing into the distance.
"Are you all right?" Gold asked when the night had gone quiet again.
"I'm…" Belle wanted to say 'fine' but that seemed almost painfully dishonest. "I've been better," she admitted. "Do you know what those people were after?"
"I have an idea," Gold admitted. "And about who arranged this incident. Which is why I sent all my important documents ahead three weeks ago. Can you get out of the ropes?"
Belle gaped. "You knew this would happen?"
"I suspected that something would happen," Gold corrected her.
"You could still have told me!"
"Would you have believed me? Would you have left if you had?"
Probably not the first. Definitely not the second. Despite her anger, she didn't have it in her to let him face danger alone. That didn't make him right, but she could hardly argue a point of principle with a man like him. "I'm not sure," she replied finally. "I didn't pay attention earlier."
"Please try," Gold said. "I certainly can't, and I don't want to stand here all night. It'll get colder before dawn."
"Eager to be away from me?" Belle meant it like a joke, but very real hurt had it come out like an accusation.
Gold scoffed. "Eager to get out of this mud; we'll be stuck here for another couple of hours while we wait for-"
"I'm engaged," Belle blurted.
The silence that fell could've been cut with a knife. Gold had gone completely still.
"We- my father never managed to get out of debt, and without funds, the bookshop failed, and Gaston… he offered." He was there, she didn't add. The man had the depth of a puddle, but he'd been there and willing to help.
"I… see." Gold's voice was faint. Distant. "Congratulations."
"Please don't do that." Belle gave her arms one last twist and managed to slip off one loop of the ropes.
"Do what?" Gold asked, coolly.
"This!" Belle angrily tugged at the knots behind her. "Pretend like none of this matters. It's just running away again."
"It seems like you did quite well without me."
Finally, Belle managed to slip out of the ropes and faced Gold. "I was lost without you," she whispered. "For years, I kept wondering if I'd said something, done something to make you hate me this much."
"I never said that I hated you," Gold said quietly. In the moonlight, his eyes were very dark.
"You didn't need to." Belle ducked closer to work at the knots holding him. "You never said anything about leaving until that evening, until…" Until they'd kissed. Almost. Belle shook her head. "Until we got close. And then you were gone!"
"I had business to attend to."
Business that would get a man robbed on dark country streets, it seemed. Belle kept working and kept silent.
"I know who I am, Belle," he said finally, his voice rough and distant again. "I know what I've done, what I might still do. If you'd known me, really, you never could've thought that you loved me."
Belle slipped the last loop of rope off his wrists and stepped back. "I didn't," she said, trying to find his eyes again. "I didn't think that I loved you, Elias, I did."
He swallowed heavily. "Belle…"
I do.
She didn't mean to kiss him. She really didn't. But then his hand found her waist, and their lips met and what she had meant to do didn't matter anymore, because he was right there, in her arms, and if he wasn't letting go, then neither was she.
He took over the kiss that she'd begun, pulling her closer, his tongue tracing over the seam of her lips, leaving behind a trail of fire. Belle sighed into his mouth as something just below her ribcage, coiled tight for so long that she'd almost forgotten it was there, finally relaxed. Warmth flooded her entire body.
It was impossible to say how long they stood there before they—reluctantly—separated, both of them breathing heavily. Only then did the realisation of what they'd just done hit her, and she could see her own sinking panic reflected in Gold's eyes, one question between them.
Now what?
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Now what indeed? It’s raining this evening, and so I’m settling in to read the showdown fics, and this is the first one.
