Never The End

Feedback is love! Reblogs, replies and tags most welcome! Prompts at #prompt me at @leni-ba

[sentenceme-leni]

Day 57. Monday. Minimum 1 sentence.

---

Maleficent only smiled thinly at Rumpelstiltskin's reticence to give her a proper welcome. "No seat by the fireplace? No tea?" She searched around the main hall, finished with a pointed look at the empty space at Rumpelstiltskin's side. "Got rid of the help at last, Rumple?"

Rumpelstiltskin regretted Belle's ease at making friends. Or whatever she had done to make the Mistress of Evil remember her fondly. That witch had stolen her away! Against her will!

(The latter was a distinction Rumpelstiltskin was honest enough to make.)

"I won't ask if your little maid has finally wised up and left you." A chair appeared at the snap of her fingers. Maleficent sat down regally, ignoring the scowl on her host. "She was unexpectedly stubborn on the matter, and I did try to convince her. Regina and I have a bet, you see, and that poor girl really needs a win these days."

He waved a hand in disinterest at the mention of his former pupil. He already kept tabs on Regina, and soon he would drop in at her palace for a friendly visit.

That Dark Curse just wasn't going to introduce itself.

Maleficent's fondness for Regina was a known quantity. It was the interest in Belle that troubled him. "She is abed, if you must know. Her bed," he added when Maleficent smirked.

"Quite the indulgent master, are you?"

"She hasn't been feeling well."

"Aw. Perhaps she could use a visitor..."

Rumpelstiltskin thought of the attitude, the groans at every ache, the endless complaints and the fickle temper he had been subjected to for the last forty-eight hours.

This had been a stressful month for Belle, and it showed.

"Sure," he said easily, strangling a smile before it surfaced. "She does love having guests."

Which, in general, was nothing but the truth.

Today, however, Belle had demanded a day of peace and silence. She had looked ready to throw her hot water bottle at him if he interrupted her rest.

Let Maleficent play target instead.

Her fondness would shrivel up after a dose of Belle's current disposition.

"I'll show you to her rooms."

Maleficent stared at him, smart enough to sense a trap. "Won't you come in with me?"

Rumpelstiltskin shook his head. "Things to do, dearie. Can't spent the afternoon looking on the sick maid."

The witch gave him a long look. Then she chuckled. "So she is not feeling well and you're avoiding her. Considering how attached the two of you are to each other, I find that odd."

Rumpelstiltskin kept his face blank.

"You know, Rumple. I have kept a lover or three in my fortress, and there was only one reason for them to avoid me with such fervor." She laughed. "Who knew that underneath all that... Dark One... you were just like any other man."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Mal."

"For the record, the trick is to sweeten things." She waved her hand and a thick bar of chocolate appeared on her palm. "I'm ready."

Rumpelstiltskin waited until he was out of her line of sight before rolling his eyes. As if he hadn't tried Belle's favorite candy already!

The End

27/05/24

[sentenceme-leni]

Day 56. Sunday. 7 sentences.

---

Secrets were important.

Secrets were the fates of his parents when he was a little boy. His aunts spun gentle tales about the absence of father and mother, and Rumpelstiltskin pretended he didn't remember those last moments with his father. That he had never heard Father ramble and swear over runaway wives.

Secrets were the fate of Bae's mother when his son asked for her. Rumpelstiltskin didn't ramble. He didn't swear. He lived his life barely above a whisper, and he also spun stories about a loving mother to a boy who pretended to believe him.

Secrets were the power of the dagger over him. That it was the key to his power. To his will. To his very soul. And it was a secret too, that Baelfire had used and abused that dagger. His boy, murder erased from his young conscience. That was a secret too.

Later, after the bean and the portal, secrets tore at him.

His mission was to be kept in the shadows. His love for his son must be hidden from sight. His determination to find him. His need for forgiveness. He took it all into his chest and never hinted that his action were anything than sheer villainy or simple boredom

Secrets were important.

"You promised me a story," Belle was saying now, bright and confident as she closed the distance between them. The girl stopped right in front of him to demand her prize, sinking into the seat next to his. "When I came back, you said, you'd tell me about your son."

Once again, he had made a deal he didn't understand. All because his clever, twisted mind couldn't understand Belle herself.

"You came back a day later," he reminded her, unwilling to reveal the truth of Baelfire again.

Cora had betrayed him. Belle might not deserve being painted with the same brush as his former lover, but no father would risk the memory of his son again.

"I'm sure the walk to town doesn't take eight hours, dearie. Don't try to cheat me. Ever."

Instead of growing angry, Belle gave him an understanding look. "Of course, Rumpelstiltskin. My mistake. I forgot that was a time limit to the offer."

There had been no such thing.

He had been so certain that, once allowed out of the Dark Castle, Belle would rush back under her father's protection, that he hadn't even considered that she would keep her side of the deal.

Unwilling to lie directly, not to her, not at this moment, Rumpelstiltskin opted for silence.

Belle waited for another few breaths, then she nodded to herself. Right when Rumpelstiltskin thought she would rise from his side and return to her duties, her hand moved to cover his.

Shock stopped him from yanking his hand away. Sheer shock. nothing else. If the thought to reproach her ever approached his brain, it was kicked out by a sudden rush of strangely content confusion.

"Of course," Belle said in a soft voice, smiling at him for some inexplicable reason, "If you ever want to tell me, I will want to hear you out. I'm right here," she promised. "Forever, isn't it?"

Secrets were important.

At this moment, Rumpelstiltskin added one more to the strongbox in the depths of his heart: He was happy to have Belle back.

The End

26/04/23

[sentenceme-leni]

Day 55. Saturday. Minimum 6 sentences.

---

Father and son never looked as alike as when they were being stubborn. People believed that Rumpelstiltskin had the tougher attitude, while they marvelled that a man as mild-mannered as Baelfire could be the Dark One's direct relative.

Belle knew better.

Rumpelstiltskin sneered and snarled at every turn, unwilling to show the slightest weakness. Get to know the man, however, and become someone he cherished, and the love he would give you was unconditional and constant.

Baelfire, on the other side, presented cheerful smiles and friendly gestures. He was easygoing and forgiving... Until he wasn't.

Both men would fight for their beliefs.

Neither backed down easily.

Which made the current conversation a thorny argument.

"I'm not asking you to befriend Killian, Papa. But must you go out of your way to make his life harder?"

"I'd hardly say that I go out of my way..."

"His car crashed."

"That's on Charming. He thought pirates could drive."

"His hook disappeared!"

"And I offered to return his hand to him."

Bae just glared at his father.

Rumpelstiltskin showed no regrets. "How that hand behaved is Hook's fault and no one else's."

"And then the Jolly Roger sank."

"He invited my wife on a cruise." Rumpelstiltskin didn't raise his voice, but every word was heavy with anger. "A private cruise. In front of everybody."

Belle still thought that Hook had been a bit into his cups, or perhaps too relaxed in the easy atmosphere of little Leopold's birthday party. It certainly had felt more like a blunder than a pass. But even after he grew aware of Rumpelstiltskin's offense at the implications, Hook hadn't apologized or withdrawn his offer.

Belle had to glue herself to Rumpelstiltskin for the rest of the evening, to make sure neither man escalated the tense situation.

Even so, Storybrooke had welcomed the new day with a missing ship at its harbor.

"Given our... history..." Rumpelstiltskin continued, condensing the memories of his first wife to that hissed word, "your old friend is lucky I didn't lock him in his cabin before it went underwater."

"What restraint," Bae said sarcastically.

Belle put an arm on her husband's arm before he could do more than flash a self-satisfied smile.

"Bae has forgiven Hook for leaving him on his own in Neverland," she reminded, squeezing Rumpelstiltskin's arm a little. "Perhaps it is time for the two of you to bury the hatchet,"

Rumpelstiltskin grinned hopefully. "In the pirate's head?"

Despite herself, Belle had to bite her lower lip against a smile even as she rolled her eyes.

Bae watched the two of them and groaned. "Nevermind," he grumbled, "I'll just tell Killian to stay with me until his ship is habitable again.

The End

25/05/24

[sentenceme-leni]

Day 54. Friday. Minimum 5 sentences.

---

Neal glanced in disbelief from his father to Belle. "What are the two of you doing?!" The question increased in pitch as it went, reaching heights of flabbergasted horror. "I'm right here!"

The two of them wrenched their eyes from each other, and still had the gall to look at Neal with innocent confusion.

"What do you mean, son?"

Neal felt his mouth open, but words failed him. He gestured between them instead, wildly hoping they understood his meaning.

The cleverest couple in Storybrooke gave him a perplexed glance.

His father even tilted his head in that worried angle that Neal remembered from childhood. "Do you feel alright?"

Meanwhile Belle reached out to feel his forehead. "Perhaps the potion didn't settle well?"

Neal resigned himself to being checked for a fever by a woman three hundred years his junior. "I'm fine," he said when Belle was satisfied with her inspection. "It's... Look. We were having a normal conversation about how to handle Regina's sister, and suddenly the two of you just... switched gears."

"Oh." Belle was biting her lip. Great. Now he had distressed his papa's girlfriend. "We didn't mean to fight in front of you."

"That wasn't a fight," his father protested. "It was a discussion from different points of view."

"I wish," Neal muttered.

His comment, unsurprisingly, went unheard.

Belle was back to glaring at Neal's father. "Executions without trial aren't a point of view, Rumple. That's just tyranny."

His father scoffed. "Name a single judge who would let her go unpunished."

"I never said that!" Belle leaned forward, as if her words would make more of an impression if they were said inches away from her objective. "But she's done nothing Regina didn't, and we never would have allowed her to go on the block."

His father looked away.

"Rumple?"

"It was just an idea. Yours was better." His dad gave an ingratiating smile. "Happy?"

To Neal's mounting alarm, Belle did seem satisfied. She even placed her hand on top of her father's. "Then perhaps my idea has merit this time as well?"

By now they were in each other's personal space, eyes locked together and soft smiles on the faces...

"No!" Neal snapped. "No, no, no. That was not a discussion, you guys!"

"Beg your pardon?"

The horror. They even spoke in unison now.

Neal took a deep breath. "Look. I've had this debate with several people. It has never gone like..." He waved his hand between them. "You know!"

They exchanged a glance, no words said. Then Belle shrugged a little and his father pressed his lips together.

Neal had been around the couple enough to translate the wordless conversation: 'Your son, your turn to handle him.'

Before his father could question his health again, Neal pressed on. "You obviously lived together, by yourselves, too long. That was not a normal argument. Trust me. By the end, you were..." His brain vetoed the term 'eye-fucking' in a last ditch attempt to delete the imagery, so he settled for the milder description. "You were flirting so heavily, I'd be blushing if I weren't horrified."

Belle and his father looked at him with wide eyes, still clueless.

The most awkward pause in living history lingered...

"I believe you need to rest, son," said his father at last.

Neal decided he'd rather face a life of awkwardness than make another attempt to enlighten them. "Yes, Papa. You're probably right."

The End

24/05/24

[sentenceme-leni]

Day 52. Wednesday. Minimum 3 sentences.

---

When Rumpelstiltskin had told her that he would be working in his laboratory for the foreseeable future, Belle had resigned herself to a tray of tea and sandwiches in her library for dinner.

Rumpelstiltskin was a busy man, with dozens of plots running at once. To their frustration, the most likely to succeed remained Regina's bitterness to push her into casting the Dark Curse; but Rumpelstiltskin hadn't dropped the other available options.

Time was running short. Complications arose from every angle.

Even with her help, Rumpelstiltskin carried the main of the burden of crossing over to the land without magic.

It made sense that her birthday slipped his mind.

Belle had even been careful not to drop any hints, unwilling to distract him. There would be enough time to celebrate once Rumpelstiltskin's son returned home.

With these thoughts running through her mind, it was understandable that the last thing she expected was for Rumpelstiltskin's magic to envelop her and whisk her to the main hall.

"Rumple!" she called out, "What in the worlds..."

A quiet huff of laughter answered behind her. "Surprise?"

That was when her brain caught up with her eyes.

"Oh," she breathed, turning in a slow circle to take in a most unexpected sight. Though the curtains were closed against the chill of winter, the whole room was as bright as under sunshine. "This is wonderful, Rumple."

There were hundreds of floating candles that drifted gently above their heads. Whether the whimsical patterns they created were by design or simple coincidence, they were still beautiful.

Belle marvelled, open mouthed, at the beauty of it. "Just wonderful..."

"So you've said." Rumpelstiltskin took her hand and gave it a slight tug. "May I direct you to the dinner table?"

Belle followed the direction, and gave a little shriek of delight. Her favorite dishes were present, and in the middle there was a plate of almond cakes in a distinctive star shape.

Her mouth watered in anticipation.

"You remembered!"

"Sweetheart," he told her with a smile, "you mentioned them so often, I could hardly forget."

She had also gone through a minor breakdown after several unsuccessful attempts to replicate the recipe. The actual reason had nothing to do with the pastry, of course, but it was still kind of Rumpelstiltskin not to allude to that scene on her birthday.

"Thank you, Rumple." She turned quickly on her heel, hoping to catch him unaware. Either she had gotten faster, or Rumpelstiltskin allowed the gesture, because she managed to catch him in a full embrace. "This is a lovely surprise. Everything is perfect!"

His hands brushed against her back uncertainly before they decided to hold onto her. "You're too easy to please, Belle."

She rested her head against his chest. This moment. This. It was the gift she would cherish the most. "You say that like it's a bad thing," she whispered.

Rumpelstiltskin said nothing in answer.

He only held on.

The End

22/05/24

[sentenceme-leni]

Wednesday. Minimum 3 sentences.

---

The mood of the meeting was already tense before Belle started her speech. The research had taken her months, and for the first time in her life, she had resisted the evidence long after every option had been studied.

Like everyone in the town hall, she wanted to go back home.

Storybrooke was a pleasant town. While the transit to the Enchanted Forest had been open, she and Rumpelstiltskin had discussed how to handle their properties on this side of the portal. Did they want to keep the mansion, for the frequent visits they planned to see Rumple's son and grandson? Should they offer it to Neal, or just put the apartment above the bookstore in his name?

Those talks were now a moot point.

Zelena's last parting gift forbid a return to the Enchanted Forest. Her curse hadn't affected only the portal; it had poisoned the whole of the land.

Even people who found alternate roads to their old homes would eventually fall under the Wicked Witch's command. They had almost come to grief at that particular discovery. Even after Rumpelstiltskin strengthened the reversal spell with blood magic, her stepson had taken pains to transform from winged monkey back to his natural form.

Zelena had infected the very heart of the realm with her magic. It seeped now into every root and brooke of the land. Not even the Dark One could compete against the will of a whole world.

"I'm so sorry," she finished her exposition, and seeing the devastation among the crowd brought tears to her eyes. She didn't allow her voice to break, all the same. People needed to see her strength, not have her sorrow added to their own. Later, in private, she would mourn their old life. "As things stand right now, we cannot move back to the Enchanted Forest. It's impossible."

Silence reigned over the assembly for long moments.

Belle was about to step down and allow Midas back to direct the meeting, when the silence broke.

"Why should we believe her?" came a familiar voice. "We all know she's the Dark One's whore."

Belle stiffened.

Such insults had once been commonplace, though whispered and suggested rather than shouted in a crowd.

Unfortunately for Gaston, this was the worst choice of public for his outburst.

A sea of heads turned to him, the sadness of the news swept away by anger at this slight against her honor.

The attendance was mostly people from the towns closest to the Dark Castle. They had seen Belle at their festivals and fairs. They had sold her their wares at market day. They had thanked her after a disaster, as Rumpelstiltskin would make himself scarce once his magic did the job.

They had called her their lady long before Belle was comfortable with the title.

Now Belle didn't bother to answer Gaston's insult.

She took her husband's arm, distracting him from his obvious fury, and left the hall.

Her people would take care of the fool.

The End

08/05/24

[sentenceme-leni]

Thursday. Minimum 4 sentences.

---

Belle sipped at her tea, drawing the blanket tighter around her bare legs. Despite the fireplace glowing bright on one end of the room, the cabin was colder than the mansion.

Central heating was a feature she would miss when they returned to the Dark Castle.

"This world has spoiled me," she told Rumple. "It's always warm inside."

"I'll keep you warm," he promised, joining actions to word and threading his arms around her.

Belle giggled, happy to accept the extra body heat under the circumstances. Before the temptation of his touch could distract her, Belle persevered. "But really, Rumple. How many candles would it take to make my library as cozy as the bookstore is here?"

"A hundred and twenty-two," he answered promptly.

Belle turned a skeptical look on him.

"Alright. I am kidding. But why the concern?" He waved a hand in that particular way that meant magic to him. "You can handle it yourself."

Belle was touched by his vote of confidence, but in truth heating spells drained her after a couple of hours. She had never liked to be dependant on Rumple's power for something so mundane, so she'd complemented the magic with thick shawls and an early bedtime in the worst of winter.

Perhaps someone would figure out how to apply some of this world's technology to their land?

"Did we ever meet any inventors back home?"

Rumple glanced at her with curiousity at the non-sequitor, but gave the matter some thought anyway. "Not that I remember," he said with a shake of his head. Then he smirked. "What about your father?"

Belle laughed at the thought.

Ruby had made her watch the movie once, and the next day Belle had sat Rumple in front of his TV set and played the video, just to make sure she wasn't reading too much into it.

Most of it was nonsense, like her father's vocation and jovial mood. She also couldn't remember Gaston with a close friend, though admittedly she hadn't cared to meet anyone important to her former fiancé.

To her surprise, the cartoon residents at the castle had tugged at her memory.

"Well, sweetheart," Rumple had said after listening to her. "You visited so many of the nearby towns, so often, that I'd find it unlikely if you hadn't met a nosy widow with a gaggle of young kids. As for friends who bicker over everything, there was probably a pair in every town!"

Belle saw the sense in his words.

Still the feeling persisted.

Rumpelstiltskin, however, took their conversation down a different path. "Have you changed your mind, then? Do you wish to stay in Storybrooke with all its comforts?"

Belle was quick to shake her head.

The miscommunication on that regard had lasted long enough.

"Of course not," she told Rumple. "After our wedding, we're going back home. You're the only comfort I'll need."

The End

09/05/24

[sentenceme-leni]

Friday..minimum 5 sentences.

---

Belle tried to hang onto her annoyance, but her effort was wasted against a pair of large green eyes. "You think you're so cute, don't you?" she grumbled.

The villain purred harder.

It showed no regrets for having been discovered hanging from the curtains. Perhaps it even was in the right, Belle supposed, as it appeared to have been in hot pursuit of a couple of mice that had climbed up the wall.

If she didn't know better, she'd swear the mice were blowing raspberries down at the cat.

Perhaps she should ask Rumpelstiltskin if there were any cursed people in the Tremaine household.

"And you better not be one of them, Luci," she told the cat earnestly.

She had watered an enchanted rose for months before it was released back as her former fiancé. Strangers making themselves comfortable on her lap would be beyond the pale!

Lucifer just closed his eyes and bumped his head against her hand demandingly.

Belle decided to believe it was a feline through and through, and obligingly gave it extra scratches between its ears.

She would still check on the mice, though. Just in case.

The End

10/05/24

[sentenceme-leni]

Wednesday. Minimum 3 sentences.

---

Back when she had first started as the Dark One's maid, after the first weeks of distrust and fear, it hadn't taken long for Belle to discover one of Rumpelstiltskin's long held secrets.

(This one wasn't a secret because he hid it. Just... no one ever cared to discover it.)

Belle found out when her stashes of cookies disappeared before she had eaten more than a couple. Her pies were favored over more refined dishes at dinner. More telling, her supply of sugar was always the first to replenish itself.

Rumpelstiltskin had a sweet tooth.

Over the years, Belle had become an adept baker. The Dark Castle never lacked a spread of cupcakes, cookies and pies to share with their guests or, more often, to tempt Rumpelstiltskin out of his tower to join her at the dinner table.

Now, as his wife, Belle had a more interesting idea to placate his taste.

Rumpelstiltskin approved with enthusiasm.

"I think," he was saying now, "this needs a little more on this side..." With a grin, he tipped the spoonful of honey over her left shoulder, and watched as the golden liquid pearled on her skin.

Belle smiled. "Are you having fun, Rumple?"

Rumpelstiltskin's smile was positively filthy. "Oh yes."

The End

15/05/24

[sentenceme-leni]

Thursday. Minimum 4 sentences.

---

Rumpelstiltskin arrived just in time to hear the clink of Belle's necklace break under the strain.

Prince Leonard stared stupidly between the golden piece in his hand and Rumpelstiltskin, mouth opening and closing in what surely would be the least imaginative excuse for assaulting a guest in his mother's court.

Given his station, Rumpelstiltskin did the boy a favor and glued his mouth shut. He would have given him a scare, too, if his ears hadn't picked on the soft sound of a sniffle.

He twisted to look at Belle, shocked to discover the sound did indeed come from her.

"You made her cry," he hissed, anger rising to levels he usually suppressed for the sake of his companion.

A flicker of his fingers, and a pile of rotting leaves lay where the prince had been.

"Rumpelstiltskin, don't!"

He took a big inhale, commanding himself to patience.

Belle was different. Lighter of heart. Kinder. Good. Of course she wouldn't like....

"You can't leave that in the middle of the hallway! Servants just cleaned it."

Rumpelstiltskin blinked.

She made an imperious gesture toward the unsightly mess.

Did she mean to banish the transfigured princeling altogether, or that Rumpelstiltskin should return him to his original form?

The latter, surely.

He huffed, miffed at her endless capacity for forgiveness. It was unfair that he wasn't it's only beneficiary. "After the scene I just walked into," he groused, "are you actually going to speak in this fool's defense?"

Belle stared at him as if he'd grown a second head.

Well. That was unexpected.

"He broke my mother's necklace, Rumple." She held out the trinket. It would be easy to repair, but Rumpelstiltskin refrained from doing it. Belle's mother was still a delicate subject. "Gaston proved more reasonable after a stint as flora," she continued, "I'm confident His Highness will follow that example."

"Gaston had you advocating for his release," Rumpelstiltskin pointed out. "Planning to stay long enough for the lesson to stick?"

That gave her pause.

Rumpelstiltskin sighed. "Alright, then."

Another click of his fingers, and Prince Leonard was hopping his terrified in the direction of the royal wing.

"A frog?"

He lifted an eyebrow. "You sound disappointed, my dear."

"The queen is a loving woman. She will kiss him at once, and he will have learned nothing."

"That's an easy fix."

A cloud of magic flew to envelop the fleeing frog and blinked itself away. "I've sent him to the servants' quarters." He sniggered. "I doubt he knows his way back."

Belle gave a huff of laughter too, but she wasn't convinced. "A missing prince, and suddenly a frog turns up?" She had read the stories. This was a classic if she'd ever heard of one. "He will be showered in kisses before sundown, and brought to the throne room if that doesn't work."

"Not every maid reads as much as you do, sweetheart." Rumpelstiltskin countered, wagging a finger in playful censure. He knew the lives of servants better than she did. People who worked for a living had this much in common: stories were a luxury, not a pastime. "A frog is just another pest underfoot. It'll get more brooms than kisses, for certain!"

Belle clutched the remains of her pearl necklace. "Good."

The End

16/05/24

[sentenceme-leni]

Day 53. Thursday. Minimum 4 sentences.

---

Rumpelstiltskin's sudden presence startled Belle into dropping her wooden spoon into the pot of simmering soup. "Rumple!" she chided, more exasperated than actually scared, "can't you at least knock on the door?"

"How would that be less concerning?" he argued, though there was a sheepish look to his eyes as he wiggled his fingers to rescue the kitchenware. "Then you wouldn't know who was out in the halls. A thief could have snuck in!"

Belle directed the spoon to the sink with a little push of magic. "Thieves don't knock," she muttered. Then she reconsidered. "Alright. Robin or his men might. They're quite polite for a band of robbers."

Rumpelstiltskin rolled his eyes. "Be as it may," he grit out, "I didn't burst into your busy schedule to discuss Merry Men."

As there was no sarcasm in the mention of her activities, Belle turned her full attention to him. "Is there a problem?"

"I might need you... Let's say, translation is required."

Belle smiled. He took her on trips often enough, but her role usually was that of companion or to soothe any ruffled feathers at Rumpelstiltskin's unapologetic attitude. Translation was a job she usually did in the library, helped by the books Rumpelstiltskin brought to hurry the task.

"Should I change?" she asked, looking down at her simple attire. Then, more importantly, "Should I bring any dictionaries? You know my elvish needs work, especially if it's a swamp dialect. I can read it, not speak it!"

Rumpelstiltskin shook his head. "You look too lovely for that crowd, and... It's not that kind of translation."

Belle blinked.

"I'm having trouble settling a deal," he explained, sounding irritated.

"But you're... You're the Dealer."

"Yes, yes. Don't you think I know that?" In true impatience, he started pacing, hands behind his back. "I had the perfect offer. Most sensible! Something they want in exchange for something I want. Still," he huffed, "they insist on giving me something different."

"Maybe it's of equal value?"

Rumpelstiltskin halted, turning to her with a tired expression. "It's their souls, Belle. They want to give me their souls."

Belle opened her mouth, but could think of nothing to say.

"I was just as speechless." He pursed his lips in true resentment. "I don't ask for that. Never."

"Not literally," Belle muttered.

That earned her a glare. "It's hardly the time to debate. I need you to sweettalk some sense into them!"

Belle took a deep breath. An unusual task, but not the hardest she'd undertook to aid him. "How were they even aware that it was a possibility."

Rumpelstiltskin shrugged. "Seems some fellow used it as currency some decades ago, that swindler! And now they believe every bit of magic has the same price." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I assure you. I have no wish to step outside earthly matters."

Belle took his free hand.

Rumpelstiltskin relaxed immediately. "You'll help me?"

She had no idea how to untangle this particular misunderstanding, but she believed good sense would triumph. "Of course."

The End

23/05/24

[sentenceme-leni]

Day 51. Tuesday. Minimum 2 sentences.

---

The villagers were familiar enough with their presence on market day that they only shuffled enough to grant them a decent view of the puppet show.

"Oh, that's lovely!" Belle enthused.

When the musicians started a lively song and the puppets followed with a well-rehearsed dance, she clapped along with the crowd.

Rumpelstiltskin kept his arms crossed over his chest, unwilling to indulge into the smile tugging at his lips.

"So you do like puppets after all," he said in as peeved a tone as possible.

Belle turned toward him, eyes wide, but it took her a second to see through the façade. Her face relaxed, and she bumped an elbow playfully against him. "I like normal puppets. Fun puppets," she stressed. "Not nightmares carved into wood."

The fact that she was still smiling reminded Rumpelstiltskin that he had never shared the background of the dolls he displayed in the main hall.

"Wouldn't like to set up your own show, then? With the right spell, you wouldn't even need strings."

Belle's full body shudder was response enough. "Rumpelstiltskin. If I ever see those things move on their own, I'll finally run away screaming back to my father's."

He snickered, confident that she would do no such thing. "That's not too brave, dearie."

"I'll happily be a coward if it keeps those things at a distance. Enough that they need dusting every week!" She gave him a pleading look. "Can't you move them to the vault?"

Belle must have expected the negative, because she only sighed and turned her attention to the show.

Rumpelstiltskin's thoughts remained on the cursed couple.

Few items in his collection were such sharp reminders that the price of magic couldn't always be managed.

In all honesty, Rumpelstiltskin had first expected either the grasshopper or that meddling fairy to keep begging to return them back to their original state, but neither of the bugs had ever mentioned the couple again.

As years passed, it had seemed a waste to store them with the less valuable knick knacks. The potion had been a crafty piece of magic - a child's earnest and earned desire for his parents' obliteration wasn't a common ingredient.

The mix-up that followed had been out of his hands, but the magic remained strong despite its ill-use. One day, when he mastered the power of true love, Rumpelstiltskin would see if someone else's true love could break their curse.

As an experiment.

For now, he was busy tweaking Snow White's and her shepherd's lives so they would willingly give him the ingredients for his masterpiece.

Busy doing that and, for some reason, escorting his maid on market day.

To a puppet show.

"Where do you want to go next?" Belle asked, a light so happy in her eyes that Rumpelstiltskin struggled to remember to answer.

Back to the Dark Castle, of course.

Instead he heard himself say: "You already dragged us here. Might as well see what else there's in offer."

Belle's smile, to his concern, seemed well worth the wasted day.

The End

21/05/24

[sentenceme-leni]

Monday. Minimum 1 sentence.

---

Belle shot up on the bed, heart still thudding against her ribcage. The vision of the portal swallowing Rumpelstiltskin into the ruins of the Enchanted Forest gentled into reality as her eyes settled on the familiar pieces of furniture around the room.

What a horrible nightmare.

Belle took a few breaths. Reminded herself that Rumpelstiltskin being absent from their bed just meant that he was working in his laboratory.

He was in no danger.

"I'm being silly," she chided herself.

She still grabbed Rumple's robe and swung her feet off the bed. Force of habit had her summoning a witchlight to the palm of her hand, but magic remained stubborn to follow her direction.

Her brain caught up and she switched on the night table lamp.

"I'm not interrupting," she told herself. "I'm keeping him company."

Barefoot company, as it turned out. Though Belle only realized once she stepped off the thick carpet that covered the hallways of the mansion.

A quick warming spell was slightly more obedient, as it translated into keeping her soles dry. Her toes at least didn't complain as she marched over the damp grass.

And wasn't that interesting? Was magic more attuned to the laws of physics in this realm? It struggled to create light from air, but it seemed content to keep two distinct substances separate.

Was that why the townline focused on returning them to the versions that fit in a world without magic?

Her hands already itched for pen and paper, and she quickened her steps to Rumpelstiltskin's laboratory.

"Sweetheart," he greeted her, looking up between her and the dark night behind her. "What are you doing up?"

"Couldn't sleep." She walked over to the spot that had become hers in the last few days. A pile of books and notes was waiting for her. "Thought I'd make myself useful instead."

Rumpelstiltskin gave her a grateful smile, but he still shook his head. "You should rest, my dear. Leave the all-nighters to the one of us who doesn't need to sleep."

In truth, Belle had never been convinced that he needed as little sleep as he boasted. Irritable was a mild word when he spent too long a stretch locked in his tower.

Belle knew of a few tricks to convince him to join her for a walk or a snack. Now that they had declared their feelings, there were even more excuses to squeeze herself in his busy schedule.

However, this search for a way out of Storybrooke was not something she wished to interrupt.

He had worked for decades - centuries! - to come to this land. The new roadblock at the townline would hardly drive him to quit his search.

"I'm staying, Rumple. I won't be able to get back to sleep anyway." She reached for her pen, already wording her thoughts on how magic might be adjusting to a world wholly new to it. "I had an idea."

Though he pursed his lips, his eyes lit with interest. Over the years, he had learned to value her input. Her research skills often surpassed his, and she had a way to puzzle out information that left him in awe of her intellect. "If you're sure..."

Belle nodded. "I'm sure. Besides," she added with a little smirk, "the sooner you bring your boy home, the sooner I can keep you in bed through the night."

The End

20/05/24

[sentenceme-leni]

Sunday. Minimum 7 sentences.

---

Rumpelstiltskin leaned away, a look of panic on his face. "I don't think---"

Belle thrust the crying child at him, never doubting he would catch it. "Figure it out, Rumple," she snapped, before she turned on her heel and hurried back into the cottage.

Rumpelstiltskin meant to chase after her. He truly did. But a woman's scream froze him before he'd given a single step.

Over three centuries on his shoulders. He had seen it all. The process of childbirth shouldn't even count among the horrors he had witnessed. He had certainly dealt worse fates by his own hand.

He still did not dare enter.

Not even to get rid of the miniature banshee left under his care.

"Damn."

Looking left and right to ensure that there were no witnesses, Rumpelstiltskin moved the child into a more comfortable position, bouncing it in a steady pattern.

The sobs eventually subsided into sniffles.

Rumpelstiltskin gave it a couple of minutes before the tyke tired himself out. Poor thing must have gotten scared by the fuss inside.

He looked up when the door opened, hopeful that Belle had seen reason, then grimaced when the master of the house appeared.

The man avoided meeting his eye. "They threw me out," he mumbled.

Rumpelstiltskin rolled his eyes.

The fool had summoned the Dark One where a midwife's presence sufficed. It made Rumpelstiltskin itch to demand the coming baby as a price for the waste of his time.

Their time.

Belle had been commandeered into fetching and carrying and washing unmentionables in the birthing room. His protests had been ignored, and the threat to whisk them back to the Dark Castle had been met with a glare.

"Do I have anything more important to do, Rumpelstiltskin?" she had hissed between her teeth, volume low enough that the curious women wouldn't overhear. "I'm needed here."

Answering that he needed her too was out of the question, and reminding her that she was the maid and he the master would only earn him weeks of coldness in his home.

"Do as you like," he had spat at last.

Belle had immediately softened and pressed his hand between hers for a long moment. "It won't take long."

That had happened two hours ago.

"Um." The man was giving him an extremely anxious look. Most unwarranted, as Rumpelstiltskin had not lost his patience yet. "Ah..."

"Spit it out, dearie."

"Isitamagicspell?"

Rumpelstiltskin sneered. "Slower. Unless you prefer I steal your tongue to reeducate it."

The man took a step backwards, but when Rumpelstiltskin didn't make further threats, he sat on a bench by the front door and cleared his throat. "Did you use magic to make Ronald fall asleep?"

It took Rumpelstiltskin a moment to understand it was the man's older child he was carrying. "Of course not," he snarled, surprised to feel affronted.

Monster that he was, he still remembered how to handle a babe.

"Pity." The idiot sighed in actual disappointment. "I would give a lot for a potion that made him quiet."

Rumpelstiltskin felt the sudden need to pinch the bridge of his nose... Or turn the incompetent moron into something more useful. A lump of coal, perhaps. The women did need to keep the fire going inside.

Sadly, only one of those options wouldn't get him yelled at.

He hitched the little boy a little higher and kept one arm firmly around him. Then he reached out and yanked the man to his feet with a wave. "Come get your son, you idiot."

The man rushed over, but he looked hesitant once he stood in front of Rumpelstiltskin.

The child would get dropped to the ground, and then Belle would yell at him anyway.

"Raise your arms. Firm them up! Boy will slip if you don't hold tight." He waited for his instructions to break through the thick skull before he commenced the transfer.

"I don't think---"

"Don't be more useless a father than you already are," he hissed. "Take the boy and don't let go. You'll just have to figure out the rest."

Belle would just have to summon him when the commotion was over.

He was getting out of here right now.

The End

19/05/24

[sentenceme-leni]

Friday. Minimum 5 sentences.

---

Belle bit her lower lip as she glanced over the ruined grand hall.

"I told you it wasn't a pretty sight," Rumpelstiltskin murmured, tightening the arm around her in an attempt to comfort her.

Belle nodded.

Intellectually, she had known that the Dark Castle would be as ruined as the other great constructions of the Enchanted Forest. Snow White's castle, once the home of a dynasty, was nothing but rubble. Regina's palace should have stood, but more mundane means had laid wroth on it. Kings across the land had sent word to contact them at more humble accomodations than they were used to.

Maleficent's fortress had been immediately livable only by dint of the band of invaders who had already done the hard work of rehabilitating the main rooms.

Belle had thought it a miracle that the Dark Castle still stood amidst the tall walls that surrounded Rumpelstiltskin's dominion.

The inside, however, spoke of the three decades it had been unattended.

"The wards will have to be renewed," she said, thankful for their work against the curse's wave of destruction. They had burned themselves out on that feat, though.

If it weren't for their people hiding the road up the mountain, they surely would have found uninvited guests under their roof.

"I'll have to start from scratch," Rumpelstiltskin sighed. "It will take years to grow them to their previous strength."

Belle squeezed his hand. "We have the time now."

He nodded. "At least the rest is an easy fix."

Rumpelstiltskin had already declared the structure safe, and Belle knew of his hopes that at some point Baelfire would come for a visit.

After Henry had almost been squashed by a crumbling wall, there was no way Bae would go anywhere with the slightest risk.

As it stood, Rumpelstiltskin's grandchild wasn't living in a hut only because Regina had whisked the boy off to the Forbidden Mountain instead.

Even Emma had to concede that a band of former thieves was safer than a castle under construction.

"We will open a couple more rooms in the family wing," she told him. Regina and Emma would inevitably clash and go their separate ways. Bae would follow Emma, and Belle would make sure the Dark Castle was the more enticing option.

"Of course," Rumpelstiltskin agreed with ease. Then he smirked. "At a distance from our quarters, though."

Belle rolled her eyes, but inwardly she saw his point. Previous - and mortifying - experience did say that their privacy was a concern.

"Perhaps we can open a whole other wing for Bae and Henry?"

Rumpelstiltskin must be remembering the same thing, because he nodded with vigor. "That would be best."

The End

17/05/24

[sentenceme-leni]

Saturday. Minimum 6 sentences.

---

Rumpelstiltskin tugged on her sleeve.

Belle didn't turn to look up at him, aware of her weakness for pleading brown eyes. "I said two hours at least, Rumple," she told him, keeping a soft, ladylike smile on her face.

Personally, it felt like they'd been stuck at Granny's for days already.

Sadly, any clock would say otherwise.

"Besides," Belle continued, "we haven't even congratulated the birthday boy."

Rumpelstiltskin glanced over at the knot of people around David. Thomas and Philip would scatter if he interrupted their little chat. Midas would be courteous enough to give some excuse before leaving his fellow king to the Dark One.

The dwarf would be nasty, though.

Snow's quarrelsome friend had never forgotten nor forgiven his experience as fowl. In Rumpelstiltskin's mind, Grumpy should be thankful he hadn't been simply snuffed out of existence for his trespass; but some people just couldn't let go.

"Don't glare so," Belle admonished him, threading her arm through his as if she could contain his ill mood physically. "I think that's the one Nova is so fond of."

Rumpelstiltskin arched an eyebrow. His estimation of the exiled fairy lowered significantly. "Can't she get better taste?"

"Hush, you!" Belle punctuated the reprimand with a quick slap against his arm.

As he had no real interest in the love life of their maid, he complied without protest. "I'm still not breaking into that little council."

"I'm sure they'll be perfectly behaved. This is David's house, and we are his guests."

Rumpelstiltskin gave her an amused glance. "I'm hardly afraid of some show of disrespect. However, between Midas and George, they'll have put the brave shepherd into a mood for politics." He made a show of shuddering. "I've had enough of that nonsense."

Since Regina had vacated the mayor's position, Storybrooke's self-appointed major players were vying for support. Snow White's husband was a favorite target.

The boy was smart enough not to back anyone too openly. However, he had questions with tricky answers and was in need of advice... and he had somehow come to the conclusion that Rumpelstiltskin was a source of both.

"It would hardly be politic to turn the man of the hour into some beastie."

"Come, Rumple. You like David better than that."

"If he makes another suggestion about how I should put in my bit at the council, no, I don't."

"The town council?" Belle chuckled at the idea. "I love you, Rumple, but you're not a team player. You'd have them dancing to your tune in a week."

He smiled at her quick summation of matters. "Thank you, sweetheart."

"Are things truly that bad?"

Now that they were forced to stay in close society with everyone else, they had to worry about details like this. He missed his solitary castle so much!

"Oh, I'm certain they'll end up begging to reinstall Regina," he told her confidently. Whether their former mayor would accept the post... He must admit he had no idea. "But for now, it's a bother."

Belle hummed in agreement. "They're acting like grasping fools."

"Does that mean we can leave them to their foolishness?"

Belle fixed him with a glare. Perhaps he had sounded too eager. She had been looking forward to this party for days. There weren't a lot of opportunities to socialize in this world, and she had always enjoyed mingling. "Two hours, Rumple. You promised."

He grumbled. "There's not even a dance floor."

Events were improved by a chance to dance with Belle.

"True. Nobody thought of that." Belle rose on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. "We can dance at home, though."

"We often do."

"Then we can do... something else."

Now that was an interesting idea. "Any suggestions?" he asked innocently.

The heat in her eyes settled that question.

"That's not incentive to stay, my dear."

Belle gave a playful shrug, reaching up to touch his chest on the pretext of straightening the lapels of his coat. "The anticipation makes it better sometimes."

He loved this woman.

"You mean the dancing?"

Her blush didn't stop her from caressing down his front. "Of course."

The End

18/05/24

[sentenceme-leni]

Tuesday. Minimum 2 sentences.

---

"Would you like another cup?" said Maleficent, tilting the teapot in his direction.

After two servings of the admittedly delicious blend and not a word of the reason behind the invitation to the Forbidden Mountain, Rumpelstiltskin just fixed the sorceress with a bored glare.

She responded with a slight smirk. "Pity," she said, placing the steaming pot back on its holder. "I was told this was your favorite."

Rumpelstiltskin narrowed his eyes. "Belle was here, then."

"I never denied it, Rumple."

A wordsmith himself, Rumpelstiltskin gave a grudging nod. "I do recognize a delay tactic." He nodded at his teacup, and made sure that his smile showed teeth when he raised his head. "Why the theater, dearie?"

Maleficent gave a dainty shrug. "Your girl has learned some decent dealmaking," she informed him with a tiny smile. "At your knees or on hers, she refused to specify." Her eyes twinkled at the outraged sound he made. "My, my. She was just as speechless at the suggestion. Quite the pair, the two of you."

He and Belle had been fielding such insinuations since the first event they attended together.

Rumpelstiltskin took a deep breath and reminded himself that he needed Maleficent alive and in a friendly mood.

"Your point, witch."

"The girl offered enough incentive to keep you occupied while she finishes her business."

When he caught up with Belle, she better have some good answers to his questions. Starting with a reason to slip away from the Dark Castle beyond whims of heroism.

"I'm surprised you allowed her passage, considering the company she's decided to keep."

Maleficent arched an eyebrow, expression so smooth that anyone might believe she had never cursed a princess or enchanted that girl's true love. "As I said, I had incentive."

Rumpelstiltskin thought he should be surprised at Belle's resourcefulness, but he had lived with her for nearly two years.

If she had waited for his help, then he would be surprised.

However, the girl still was blind to loopholes. She acted in good faith and believed others to follow her example.

Maleficent had never been a follower.

"And you will allow her back through your land unharmed?"

Maleficent gave an innocent look. "I know how precious your little maid is, Rumple. Why would I harm her?"

Rumpelstiltskin stared at her, waiting.

"Of course," Maleficent continued, "accidents happen. These are dangerous roads across the mountain."

"Name your price, Mal."

Maleficent smiled.

The End

14/05/24