If they ever make a movie about Pope Leo, I think Robert Carlyle can play him very well. ‘Cause look! It is just me or the resemblance (in certain angles) is uncany!
Strag, I’ve just finished another marathon re-read (for the nth time) of the Starbucks series, and can confirm —it’s one of my all-time favorite fics! It just keeps getting better with every re-read. Are you still taking prompts for this verse? If so, may I send one your way? If you’re inclined, could we get an update on their lives with grown-up kids, still obviously deeply in love—bonus points if Belle is being openly possessive of Gold, even though it’s obvious to everyone that he only has eyes for her.
Hi there! Thanks so much for this. The Starbucks Series holds a special place in my heart, and I'm so glad other people still enjoy it as much as I do.
As for prompts, I'm always up for any Starbucks prompts. I have a couple of AUs that were suggested that I might wanna write some day too, if I can ever finds the asks I responded to that talked about them. There was specially an Indulgence AU were Belle actually was injured by Hook that I might want to flesh out.
Currently I'm slowly making my way through a rather uncooperative plot bunny, so I'd welcome any and all distractions.
Golden Cuffs by @kelyon. This is like... dark smut. Like BDSM and lots of psychological introspection on it. The sequel is set in Season 1 and pre-Season 1 Storybrooke and explores Gold and Lacey in such a setting. It's definitely got a dark romance sort of vibe.
Nothing is Innocent by @0ceanofdarkness. "The Dark One seeks his son in a land without magic, but he must obtain an elusive beast before the Dark Curse that will take him there can be cast."
Pride and Other Poisons by Hikari_no_Chibi. A Dark Victorian Rumbelle AU. "Gold is haunted by the First Carlist War, and Belle embodies everything he hates from his past. Expectations will crumble like the foundations of an old house, and it will be up to them to build something new on the rubble. Rated M for violence and substance abuse."
Shadow Manor by @suchadearie. "Mr. Gold sets out to find himself a wife that will bear him an heir for his estate. But his marriage to Belle French turns out to be a little more complicated than the mere business arrangement he had in mind."
Trading for Touch by @suchadearie. Set in cursed!SB, Belle enters into a "sordid" relationship of sorts with Mr Gold.
@suchadearie in general wrote a lot of fics where Belle and Gold have a sort of dark-ish dynamic.
In the Blood by Megara Bee. A vampire AU. "Belle French will never be able to settle her father's debts; of that she is certain. But she is hopeful that Mr. Gold, the most feared creature in Storybrooke, will accept her blood in trade. Unfortunately for her, he has something much more devious in mind…" Warning for sexual content that might not be everyone's cup of tea.
Endless by @mareyshelley. Vampire AU. "Unable to pass up the opportunity to attend one of Storybrooke’s annual balls, Belle finds herself drawn to the old manor’s library and her unusual host."
Honestly most of her fics have a dark vibe I really like, so I would recommend anything she's written.
The Haunted Man by @nerdrumple. "When her father tries to arrange a marriage for her, Belle decides to take fate into her own hands - but seeking the help of Mr. Gold is its own winding, mysterious path. Gothic Romance Rumbelle AU."
Will update this Rec List as I remember new fics. Hope it helps anon!
So, last week I had a little fun putting out a simple post with some gifs of Robert Carlyle standing in response to a sitting post I’d seen. People seemed to enjoy it too, so I thought maybe I’d try and make this a weekly thing or something, give everyone a fun little bit of RC on your dash Sunday evenings/Monday mornings to start the week.
Anyway, one aspect that really made the Rumpelstiltskin/Mr. Gold character for me was the swagger. So many of Robert Carlyle’s characters just ooze confidence (and sex, let’s be real) in their walk alone. Always a credit to his acting skills that RC uses everything from his expressive eyes and facial expressions, hands, and even his walk to build a character that makes an impact.
There are so many examples, but I’m going with:
Just like before, feel free to add your favorites. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy these pics as much as I do. Have a good week!
Ohhhh, Bobby's swag... Don't get me started on this, it's like opening the Pandora box of sex struts... I made so many gifs of Bobby swagging, here is a selection.
I think probably something we all ask ourselves at some point in our lives is how we would cope in a crisis, and the thing is, you actually don’t know, I mean a real crisis.
Belle is a prostitute in Cora's brothel. Gold is Cora's business partner who pays for an evening of Belle's company.
Read on AO3
It was a fine house, Gold thought as he descended from his carriage and stepped through the open gates. He looked up at the stone building in front of him--three stories and an attic, seven fireplaces and at least one window in every room. Small wonder the original owner had gone bankrupt. Cora had brought the place for a song at a sheriff’s auction. She had almost been able to pay for the building herself, and had only come to him when she wanted refurbishments. With his financial backing, she had added more bedrooms and lavishly furnished the whole place. He’d seen the developments as they’d progressed, but tonight would be the first time he’d come around since it was open for business.
Cora herself greeted him at the door. She curtsied to him, deep and low. Her burgundy silk gown rustled with the movement--a sound that tantalized him, and she knew it.
“Mr. Gold,” she purred.
One of Cora’s few virtues was her tendency to follow her own advice. Gold knew what she told the young women she trained, of how to make a man feel special: A girl must always look pleasing, but when she sees a gentleman she must look pleasured. Down to her core. As though just by laying eyes on a man she is already halfway to a climax. Gold had seen enough of Cora’s pleasures that he almost believed what she offered him.
He took her hands, offered a kiss on each of her powdered cheeks, and let her lead him inside. The grand hall smelled of flowers, or at least of floral perfumes. Light trills of a pianoforte wafted in from another room. The scents and sounds each served the same purpose: to offer a pleasant distraction from any noisy or odoriferous activities that might be happening out of sight.
“What do you think of it?” Cora spread her arms wide. Now her eyes shone with her only true pleasure, pride. Pride at her own accomplishments, at her own trappings of wealth and success, pride at all the power she held over others.
Pride Gold rarely allowed her to indulge in.
“There’s soot all over the fireplace,” he pointed out a detail that Cora had overlooked. “All these women and not one good housekeeper among you?”
Cora’s smile did not waver. If anything, it deepened. “It’s been too long, Mr. Gold. I curse the business that kept you away from the city.”
He gave her a small grin of his own. “You’ll be grateful for the success I’ve had in my dealings, and the capital it allows me to invest in your pursuits.”
“Grateful enough just to have you near, sir.” Her voice lowered. “This house is always open to you. Everything is.”
“I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t, Mrs. Mills.”
He handed his coat and cane to a gray-haired man who waited in the front hall. One might have been forgiven for thinking him a servant, but Gold knew him as Henry Mills, a man who knew exactly where he fell in his wife’s regard. Gold exchanged a nod with the man, while Cora brushed past them both.
“This is the parlor,” she announced. “Where we entertain our guests.”
This was where the music had come from. Some slip of a girl was playing a piano in the far corner. The rest of the large room was occupied with young women. They lounged on the plush sofas, gossiping and playing cards while they waited for their services to be called upon.
Lacking jewels, the girls wore dark ribbons around their necks, a typical marker of their trade. Typical, too, were the crumpled skirts and loosened stays. Heavy powder on the face, but only a smear of red around the lips. Some of them had already been used at least once this evening, and were ready to be used again.
A few men stood around the room, drinking wine and talking to each other. Only occasionally did they acknowledge the female bodies pressed against their own. If a girl had already claimed her man, there was no need for the man to make an effort to keep her. Hands would squeeze a bosom or a thigh over the dress, but that was anticipation, not action. Nothing would happen in this room that might require attention from local constabulary, if any were to stop in unexpectedly.
On the whole, the parlor held an air of expectation, the constant possibility of licentiousness. Delirious pleasures might have happened already, or might be about to happen at any time. This cast a tawdry light on activities that might otherwise have been perfectly ordinary. The girls tried to seem like respectable young ladies, but everything about them was just a touch too much. Their gowns were too colorful, their laughter too bright, their composure too carefree to be completely moral. Anyone who walked into this room would know what these girls were, even if nothing illegal was in sight.
Cora was looking at Gold, expectant of his opinion. He cleared his throat. “Your little walled garden has managed to sprout some lovely blossoms, I must say.”
“Would you like to meet some?”
Without waiting for a reply, Cora called two of her girls over to them. The one in a red dress looked at him directly, with a calculation common to women in her profession. She was measuring the complex ratio of how much a man would spend for a woman against how much trouble he could be to her. The girl in blue--who was clearly trying to hide her pregnancy--didn’t look at him at all.
“Mr. Gold, these are Ruby and Ella, two of my sweetest berries.”
“Sweet?” Gold reached out and touched the bold girl under her chin. “This red seems a strong and heady wine, yes, but is she sweet?”
The girl--Ruby--knew better than to back away or even flinch at a stranger’s touch. Nor did she try to change her manner. Under such close scrutiny, a sudden smile would have seemed just as hollow as it was. Instead, she locked eyes with him. Slowly, her lips parted, and she gave him a wolfish grin.
“I am strong, sir,” she said. “If you need a girl to be rough with, I’d be happy to have you test my endurance.”
Gold rewarded Ruby with a grin. He tilted her face towards Cora. “You have a prize in this one,” he said. “There is a wildness in her that calls out to be tamed. Try not to break her too quickly.”
Dropping Ruby, he turned to the girl in blue, the girl who had obviously already been broken. She was sweet, pretty as a cherub, with watery blue eyes and ringlets of yellow hair. The ribbon at her neck was the only darkness about her. Gold made a show of looking at her belly and tutting.
“How can it be that a creature with such an innocent air could be caught in something so wicked?” He didn’t even pretend to ask the girl herself, but addressed his question directly to Cora.
“Love can ruin anyone,” Cora said smugly. “Can’t it, Ella?”
The girl flinched at the sound of Cora’s voice. “Yes, Mrs. Mills.”
“And when a girl is ruined, no one cares what happens to her, do they?”
“No, Mrs. Mills.” From the girl’s rote responses, Gold gathered that this was a lesson she had been taught many times.
Cora only smirked at Ella’s cowed obedience. “I want you girls to spread the word. Mr. Gold is a friend to the house. All of you are to give him anything he wants. Is that understood?”
Both girls nodded, and curtsied in unison. Cora waved them away. The door opened in the front hall and boisterous male voices penetrated the house. Cora left Gold’s side for just a moment, to usher the gentlemen callers into the parlor.
Gold backed under the eave of the staircase. He blended in with the shadows and listened to various pairs of feet go up and down the stairs to the second story.
When Cora found him again, she took his arm and showed him the other rooms on the first floor.
“In a few months, I’m going to need you to make that baby disappear,” Cora told him once they were in the privacy of the library.
“At your service,” Gold nodded. “I assume you want it done the profitable way?”
“More than that. I want the child easily found, if a situation might arise where it would be useful to bring it back into dear Ella’s life.”
That gave Gold pause. It was nothing new for him to take an infant from a mother’s breast and find a home where it would be looked after--for a while, for a price. And if the child was never seen again after the money ran out, well that was the caretaker’s crime, not his. Certainly not Cora’s, or the mother’s. He knew of a dozen farms all over the city where a dozen babies might be kept in one room. Finding parents who were willing to pay to receive a child was a trickier task, but more profitable. And with a new name and no memories, the baby was just as gone as if it had never been born. But to make an infant disappear in a way that it could reappear at a moment’s notice was a feat of magic Gold had not yet been called upon to perform.
He turned to Cora. “Who’s child is it?”
“You know of Judge Herman?”
His eyebrows raised. “The honorable judge?”
“No, his worthless son Thomas. Sweet Ella was a scullery maid in their home.”
Gold nodded sagely. “A common temptation for a boy in the first fullness of youth.”
“The way she tells it, they were in love.” At Gold’s look, Cora nodded. “I know, I didn’t believe it either. But he’s visited her several times since she’s joined us, and paid for the privilege to do so. It’s gotten so bad that the judge himself is paying for me to keep things quiet--and to keep them apart.”
“Of course, you are doing neither.”
Cora let out a tasteful gasp. “Why, Mr. Gold, how could you? I am a woman of my word, as everyone knows. If young Master Herman is sneaking into my establishment, then he is doing so by sly and devilish means, entirely without my knowledge.”
Gold wrapped an arm around Cora’s waist as they walked from the library to the dining room. “Do you expect anyone to believe that, dearie?”
She placed her hand on his shoulder, where their bodies met. “Only people who don’t know what I’m capable of.”
****
The second floor of this grand house was the area Gold was most familiar with. He had supervised the transformation of three large rooms into six small ones. All but one had the door closed. Various grunts and gasps emanated from the others.
“Your girls are hard at work, it seems.”
Cora preened. “We’ve only been open here for a few months and are already making a name for ourselves. Of course, I have my ladies to thank for that, much more than the girls downstairs.”
With slow, almost reverent steps, Cora approached the bedroom with the open door. She turned to him, her head tilted coquettishly. “Would you like to see inside?”
He ignored the potential innuendo and walked past her into the room. A single lamp burned inside an orange shade, illuminating the darkness with a stifling warmth. It was furnished nicely--a washstand, a mirror, a valet where a gentleman might leave his clothes. The main attraction, of course, was the large bed that dominated the room. It was primly made, but there was a telltale indentation in the orange coverlet. The strong scent of perfume--orange blossom, of course--fought a valiant battle against the lingering stink of bodies, sweat, and wine. From the walls on either side, Gold heard the thudding of furniture and some well-practiced but convincing moans.
“They’re all done up in different colors,” Cora said as she made her way into the orange room. She stood behind Gold, almost pressing her gown against his body. Almost, but not quite. “I’d thought of dedicating each one to a different act, or a different specialty of desire. But aside from the red room of pain, I could never come up with a workable theme.”
“One shudders at the thought of the goings-on in the yellow room.”
Cora chuckled. She wound her arm around his. “It did enter my head to style a room all in gold and reserve it for only the most honored guest.”
Gold let out a quiet scoff. “But that wouldn’t be a profitable enough use of space, would it, dearie?”
Before Cora could answer, a young girl walked into the room. It was the girl in the red dress, Ruby. She had her arm wound around the arm of a well-dressed blonde man.
“Oh!” She started when she saw them. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Mrs. Mills. I thought this room was open.”
“It is, dear.” Cora smiled indulgently, a marked difference from how she had spoken to the girls in the parlor when there were no customers within earshot. “Mr. Gold and I were just leaving.” She let him go out first, then stopped to speak to the young man. “Hello again, Doctor. It’s always such a pleasure to have you in the house.”
The young man nodded, but clearly had other matters on his mind.
“I do hope your visit doesn’t mean our Ruby is coming down with something?”
At this, the doctor cleared his throat and found his voice. “Not at all, Madame Cora. Tonight I’m here for pleasure, not business.”
“As it should be. This is a house of pleasure.” She reached into the room and closed the door on the couple. Her bright smile lasted until she made eye contact with Gold. Only then did she allow herself a touch of genuine cynicism. “That fool will never get anywhere in this world until he realizes that business and pleasure are the same thing.”
Gold chuckled. “Remember, my dear, not everyone is cursed with your boundless ambition.”
Cora gazed upon her kingdom of closed doors, smug but never satisfied. She guided Gold to the landing of the third story. “I have more to show you up here.”
****
The third story, Cora explained, was where the family lived and worked.
“There’s an attic upstairs for the girls that stay in the house, but the ladies have private chambers. I couldn’t possibly ask my treasures to entertain their callers in the same rooms as anyone who walks in off the street.”
“Or anyone who walks the streets,” Gold mused.
“Not as many of those as before,” Cora said, clearly pleased with the improvement. “I still have a few girls who find men on their own and need to rent a bed, but most of our customers come here directly. We’re beginning to get a reputation, and a good one. Gentlemen know the quality of the house. That matters more than any individual occupant.”
Gold saw the advantage that gave Cora over her employees. If men came to the house instead of seeking a girl on their own, they would find that any one of Cora’s confections was just as sweet as all the others. The girls would become interchangeable, replaceable, significant only as much as they were attached to the house. That would make them all the more indebted to Cora, all the more obliging and fearful of her. The only exceptions would be for the people who had rooms on this floor.
She showed him the two suites reserved for the ladies of the house. One was furnished in mint green, the other in lavender, every surface gilded and cluttered with bric-a-brac. Each room opened into a sitting room that subtly led into a sumptuous bedchamber.
The ladies were out for the evening, Cora said. They were expected to return at any moment, with whatever companions they had attracted at the various parties and events they’d attended that night. Gold wondered how the ladies chose which of their new friends would be brought up to these inner sanctums, and which would be left downstairs in the parlor, for lesser girls to bring up to the rainbow of bedrooms on the second story. Of course, the house would profit either way.
“My bedchamber is the smallest of the three, as it sees the least activity.”
Gold spared a thought for Henry Mills. Did the man ever sample the merchandise that was bought and sold in his home? His devotion to Cora knew no bounds, Gold knew that well, but was he permitted his own indiscretions? Or did he want nothing more than to constantly forgive hers?
In the midst of his musings, Gold noticed a door left ajar at the end of the hallway. A single door, smaller than any others in the house. It seemed to be the first room that Cora didn’t want to show off.
“What’s down there?”
“Oh, that’s just a place where we keep things we don’t need.” She waved her hand as though swatting at a fly. “Come, let me show you my study.”
Unlike the rest of the house’s bright colors and competing noises, the study was dark and quiet. It appealed to Gold, though it took him a moment to understand why: This room was modeled in the same fashion as the offices where he did business. The rooms where he had taught Cora everything she knew.
The desk was large and polished, stately in its grandeur. Account books and correspondence were stacked neatly to one side. The chair behind the desk was more distinguished than most, with a tall back and clawed arms. The dark walnut wood and carved ornamentation put Gold in mind of a throne.
“Sit,” Cora insisted.
Gold did as she bid him, sinking down into the seat of power. He surveyed the desk and the room--and Cora, looking at him with a dark hunger in her eyes. Cora had grown up starving, and she had never stopped being hungry. With claws and teeth, she had fought for every scrap she’d ever gotten--for power, for wealth, for respect. She had come far from where she started. If she were sensible, she would be content with what she had already accomplished.
But contentment was not in the nature of Cora Mills.
“It suits you,” she murmured. “Power suits you.”
He scoffed. “My power extends far beyond a house and a handful of working women.”
“I know,” Cora said.
Putting her hands on the arms of the chair, she turned him to face her. Her eyes stayed on his, as she slowly sank to the ground. Her fine gown crumpled and billowed out around her.
“You’re the only man I ever get on my knees for, Mr. Gold.”
Despite his better judgment, Gold’s body reacted to her invitation just as she knew it would. He damned her for it. He loved her for it.
Cora knew him well, but he knew her too. This little display wasn’t her giving up her power. She would never do that--but she would appear to, for a price. As much as she said that everything in the house was his, all that really meant was that he could take what he wanted now, and pay for it when she needed him to. The queen of the castle would allow him to live like a king, as long as her bills were paid. He knew Cora, he had made her into what she was. No move of hers was unplanned, no gift came without strings attached.
She was still on her knees, licking her lips.
“Your husband is downstairs.” Gold pointed out the fact with cool detachment.
She grinned. “That’s never stopped us before.” Delicately, she placed her hands on his knees. Resting her weight on him, she leaned up. “Don’t you remember the Baroness’s ball? You knew he was on the balcony while we were in the garden.”
Gold did remember that night, years and years ago. He’d covered Cora’s mouth with one hand while making her scream with the other, against a garden wall, where anyone could have heard her, and probably several people did.
“You can’t know how many nights I’ve laid in bed next to him, dreaming of you bursting in and taking what belongs to you.”
She meant it. That was the worst part. He knew when Cora was lying and at that moment she was achingly sincere. She wanted him. Just as much as she wanted his money and his influence, she wanted him. And she would pay any price to obtain his favor.
Deliberately, but without force, Gold lifted Cora’s hands off of his body. He wheeled the chair out of her reach, and stood up.
That was the trick for dealing with a whore. You had to remember who was buying and who was selling.
He helped her get to her feet. Cora smoothed out her skirts and took his rejection with icy grace.
“That’s the trouble with being a woman,” she said, not looking at him. “Our charms fade so much faster than a man’s.”
Before Gold could say another word, there was a knock at the study door.
“Come in,” Cora said.
A young girl entered the room. She was a tiny thing, pale and solemn, in a faded gown the same pale blue as her eyes. From across the room, Gold examined her. If it weren’t for the black ribbon at her throat, he never would have pinned her as a member of this house. Nothing about her was too bright or too loud. She was light, yes, but soft, and wavering. A delicate flame. When she spoke to Cora, her voice was so low Gold had to lean in to hear her.
“Mrs. Mills, the ladies have returned.”
Cora nodded briskly. “Send them up here, and bring refreshments as well.”
The girl bobbed a curtsy, and closed the door behind her when she left.
Gold had to swallow before he could trust himself to speak. “Who was that?”
“Oh that’s Belle. She came with the house.”
Something about her seemed familiar to him, but he couldn’t quite place it. “Is she a housemaid, or…?”
“Both,” Cora smirked. “She does anything she’s told to. This isn’t a house for girls who say no.”
At last, he knew where he had seen her before. “She was playing the piano in the parlor.”
But there was something more to it, wasn’t there? The thought kept niggling at the back of his mind. A girl that lovely, that demure, what was she doing here?
“You should hear the ladies play,” Cora artfully maneuvered the conversation. “They have excellent voices as well. And they dance, and converse with perfect elegance. Just wait until you meet them.”
He didn’t have to wait long. Without a knock, the door to the study opened and a tall young woman in a poison green dress exploded into the room.
“Mama, the evening was absolutely splendid! I had five gentlemen offer me their calling cards and three others followed us back to the house.”
Cora greeted her eldest daughter with a performative kiss on both cheeks. “These men, are they lords or are they lawyers?”
The lady’s jaw dropped as she was momentarily lost for words. When she spoke again, her voice was even shriller than it had been. “How am I supposed to know?”
Cora shook her head, not angry, just disappointed. “I should have gone with you. How will you find proper support if you don’t even know what you’re looking for?”
Another girl had followed behind the first. She slouched against the wall of the study, lilac-gloved arms folded over her chest.
“And you, dear?” Cora asked.
“Duke Leopold invited me to sit with him at the opera tonight.” The girl sounded utterly resigned. “We stayed in his box for three hours. He kept trying to talk to me about the music and the story and the performances. Who goes to the opera for what’s happening on stage?”
“The Duke is a man of taste and culture,” Cora said. “Exactly who I want you ladies attracting.”
“But Mother, he barely even looked at me! I could have been a statue and he would have kept prattling on!”
“Good,” Cora said decisively. “Less work for more reward. That is exactly the life I want for you.”
“Hardly much ‘reward,’” the girl in green snapped at her sister. “I brought in eight new customers. Duke Leopold hasn’t even seen the house.”
“And hopefully he never will,” Cora said calmly. She cradled her younger daughter’s face. “If all goes well, he’ll invite Regina to his house and then do anything he can to ensure she never leaves.”
Under her mother’s scrutiny, Regina tried to hide her disgust at that prospect. The other girl did a far worse job of concealing her jealousy. Leaning back against the desk, Gold watched the drama play out in amusement. He’d never been more glad that the thought of family life had never appealed to him.
“Ladies!” Cora clapped her hands together. “I want to introduce you both to Mr. Gold. He’s been my benefactor for many years now, and it is my sincere wish that our relationship will continue into the next generation.”
There was little resemblance between the three women--until the whole family looked at Gold with the same expression. The flash in the eyes, shiny as coins dropping into a purse. The baring of teeth that could almost be a smile, but was really only the thrill of the hunt. The flush of the cheeks, the catch of the breath. There was blood in the water, and it was his own.
The older girl stepped forward first. She curtsied low, pushing out her meager decolletage. She had red hair--which she wore under a ludicrous small hat--and red eyelashes that batted over green eyes. “What a pleasure!”
Gold bowed politely. “Miss Mills.”
“That is Zelena,” Cora said, as if he didn’t know. As if he didn’t remember Cora giving gin to a red-headed infant to make sure she stayed asleep in her cradle while they made good use of the bed.
“And this is Regina.”
Regina acted with less desperation than her sister, which instantly made her more palatable. She had dark hair, and eyes that held the anger her smile tried to hide.
Gold smirked at Regina, but spoke to Cora. “This is the one you swore up and down wasn’t mine, yes?”
In an instant, Regina’s smile vanished and only the anger remained. He liked her even better that way. Somehow, she kept her voice even. “Please don’t say such things about my father, Mr. Gold.”
She cared more for dear Henry’s honor than she did her mother’s? Interesting.
He gave her a bow as well. “My apologies, Miss Mills. Incidentally, if you would like to research notable operas, I have some books--”
The door opened. Gold stopped speaking to watch the girl from before. Belle--yes, that was her name, why did it seem familiar?--carried a tray of wine and glasses into the room.
“Finally,” Cora huffed. “Serve us quickly, I want to make a toast.”
“What are we toasting, Mama?” Zelena asked.
“Mr. Gold, of course,” Cora said. “We’re welcoming him to the house. Celebrating his contribution to our success. Offering him his choice of all we have.”
The ladies straightened up at the subtle reminder of their true purpose. Of his true purpose, as far as Cora was concerned. It was both flattering and humiliating, that she would offer him the means to satisfy every appetite his mind could imagine and his body could perform--and that she would expect him to jump at the opportunity to do so. Everyone in this room was a trained animal in Cora’s circus.
“Excuse me, sir.” Quiet as a falling feather, Belle appeared at his side with a wine glass in her hand.
“Thank you,” he said. He tried to read her face, but she kept her eyes down. Softly, she left him, and went to serve the others.
Unwilling to stare at the glorified meat market in front of him, Gold examined his wine glass. It was fine crystal--better than Cora should have been able to afford. The base was etched with a circular design of roses surrounding the letter F. That explained it; they were second-hand. Like the house itself, Cora had bought these glasses out of someone else’s tragedy--death, disease, or destitution. Idly, Gold wondered who the F family was, and what had happened to them.
“To Mr. Gold!” Cora lifted her glass. “The founder of the feast. And to whichever lucky lady he chooses tonight.”
“Here, here!” The ladies copied their mother, clinked their glasses and drank.
Belle had not left the room. She stayed in a corner, waiting to be called upon again.
Gold drank his wine, a dry French red. It left a bitter taste in his mouth.
French.
“Cora,” he broke through the bickering and chatter. “What was the name of the first owner of this house?” Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Belle. He saw her body tighten, saw her bite her lower lip. He twisted the knife. “It was French, wasn’t it?”
“No, he wasn’t a Frenchman, but the name was--”
“It was French.” Newly invigorated, Gold stood. “Maurice French.”
“Oh yes, of course.” Cora’s smile was blank. She didn’t understand what he was getting at.
He crossed the space that had separated himself from the women. He stood between Cora and Belle. “There was a girl, too, wasn’t there? When you bought the house. A sad little heiress to a kingdom of debts.”
In her corner, Belle had balled her hands into fists. All of them were between her and the door. Otherwise, Gold was sure she would have bolted.
Cora’s expression had become more even. “Buying debt was one of the first business lessons you ever taught me, Mr. Gold.”
“And a lesson you’ve learned quite well, my dear.” Bowing, Gold took Cora’s hand and kissed her knuckles. Then he straightened up, and extended his hand to the lady he chose. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I would like to take Miss French to bed.”
I just finished reading Bad Timing. So perfect in ever way! I was so overwhelmed by the feeling of wanting to know what became of them that I came here immediately *unable to breathe properly and with shaking hands, lol * to see if a sequel was ever posted. I understad that a story sometimes stubbornly refuses to be developed. But if the illusive plot finally becomes solid (if youre still trying, that is) I would be over the moon to read it. Question though: When Belle was still ctovely finding her way back to 2016, you said she had a letter of explantion prepared in case she finds the book and needed to leave. Did Gold ever manage to find it?
I'm glad you liked Bad Timing! I loved it too, it allowed me to explore a new dynamic for rumbelle, with an older Belle and a younger Gold in his way to becoming the infamous Mr Gold but still in the early woobie stages.
I have stuff written for a sequel. But it's always eluded me, the proper way to do it. I struggle with the POV, for one, should it be Gold's or Belle's or both? Because there just SO much stuff to write on both sides!
Also I struggle with it not being disappointing. I feel that whatever I write will fall short of what people might have created in their heads about what happened after their reunion. What I have written so far is from Gold's POV and it's all about him coming to terms with seeing someone like his Belle and then realising that, against all odds, it IS his Belle. But I feel like he accepts it too easy? Even though it's pages upon pages of back and forth... I dunno. And their first encounter... A bit of a letdown. I feel like there isn't enough emotion.
Hey, anyone who want to offer themselves to beta that sequel, read through what I got and my notes on what comes and help me can volunteer. I got 17 pages of that bad boy just wilting on my google docs.
Hey thanks for the reply! This is the first time I’ve read a Rumbelle fic with Belle as the older woman, and surprisingly, I really love it! Or I really, really love how you wrote it. The attraction and feelings were so palpable, even with late 20s Belle and Fetus!Gold lol.
Also love your description of Gold being in his early woobie stage - funny, endearing and sad at the same time. Makes me want to pet the bb soo much!
Personally, I would love a POV from both of them, but at this point, i think it’s really important that we read Gold’s first, cause we’ve already been in Belle’s head in the first story.
I understand how you would hesitate releasing the sequel, given how utterly beautiful the first was. But I don't think you could ever disappoint your readers, Strag. Honestly, without any intention of patronizing you. I would volunteer to be your beta, but Im not a writer and English isnt even my first language. I want to help though, so why don't I just share my thoughts on the events of their present meeting, to give you an insight of at least one reader’s mind? This fic is really refreshing and exciting for me becasue usually, Gold’s emotional trauma was inflicted by Milah and/or Cora. But here, Belle unintentionally caused it, since by the time he got together with Milah, he was already guarded, and Im guessing that it worsened over time. So my single assumption is that Gold still became his usual jaded self but this time, it was Belle who unintentionally made him that way. So Im curious to know how Gold will find the courage to let Belle in again, even if he acepts her explanations, and how Belle will feel about the years she “lost” with Gold. For her, they were probably apart for just what, a month or a few years? But for him, it probably felt like he lived an eternity without her. He was the last person she slept with, but Gold married, and literally lived a near entire lifetime. Belle’s love for Gold is still fresh, while Gold’s feelings has probably been tempered by time, so Im sort of curious about what she feels about that...
Those are some things I just thought about, BUt NOT NECESSARILY looking a resolution for. Cause as I said, I would really be just delighted to know how you brought them to their happy-ever after (crossing fingers that they finally had it in 2016 lol). I feel like i could happily move on with my life, knowing that Strag truly and finally did right by them, lol!
“I think he’s just going to cherish every single moment with her. And I think that might bring about some problems (laughs) because, if she needs to go, you know, be in another room and he won’t be able to handle it.” - Jonny
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