158. Thursday. Minimum 4 sentences.
In the last year, Rumpelstiltskin often wondered whether he had gained a permanent mark right above the bridge of his nose.
He certainly was pinching the spot often enough.
"That," he said, summoning patience from the bottom of his exhausted soul, "is a reindeer."
Belle patted the side of the towering beast. Smiled.
The reindeer showed a whole row of teeth.
Rumpelstiltskin refused to call that a smile.
"It cannot stay in the castle."
Belle gave him a patient look. "Of course not," she said easily. Too easily. "We are helping it return home."
The reindeer's head bobbed up and down
Rumpelstiltskin refused to call that a nod.
"We?" he repeated incredulously. "And why am I helping along?"
"Because I'm not powerful enough to send it all the way to Arandelle."
Rumpelstiltskin raised an eyebrow. Belle usually avoided even the mention of that kingdom. Something to poke at... later.
"Why use magic when it has four perfectly healthy legs?" he tried to reason. Honestly, insisting that he wasn't the type to help human or creature went nowhere with Belle. The woman was convinced there was a speck of niceness buried in him and she was relentless in bringing it out.
"The trip is long, Rumple, and Sven needs to be home within the day."
Now he would never get rid of it.
"There is a festival," she added.
There it was. The reason for that shine in her eyes. His maid took to festivals like Maleficent to cursed spindles.
However... "In Arandelle?"
Belle twitched. What was it between the girl and that frozen land?
Even the reindeer looked at her sideways, a certain expression to its big brown eyes.
Rumpelstiltskin refused to call it worry.
"Close by," she muttered.
Rumpelstiltskin had options.
He could vanish into his tower. He could leave the castle. He could transform that collection of fur and antlers into something squishable and forget the whole thing.
(He could. He wouldn't, because even the thought of Belle's reaction made that inconvenient 'nice' speck rise in protest.)
But then Belle glanced at him, all hope and eagerness, and his options reduced to one.
"All right," he capitulated. "But if it lands in a frozen lake, you're fishing it out."