Prompt from @yoolee‘s 50 SLBP Prompt list! This one leapt into my head and wouldn’t go away so I had to write it. JSorry if it wasn’t 100% what you had in mind XD
Prompt: After the number of times that Nobunaga has made MC be Princess Kaguya for one of his tournaments, the moon is actually starting to suspect she might be, and has let her know that it will be reclaiming her on the next full moon.
“Um...Lord Nobunaga?”
“What?”
MC was fairly certain he was in a sour mood due to his short reply and the way he didn’t even look up from the papers on his desk to acknowledge her. She could only hope the sweets on the tray would offset the news that the letter beside them was bringing.
She could still remember the light that had awoken her in the middle of the night. She’d bolted up, assuming she’d overslept. Instead, she’d found it still night outside. The brightness was from a stream of moonlight that was coming through her window. It was almost ethereal, not affecting the world save for the small dust particles that made it sparkle. She had to shield her eyes from it as it flashed before her room once again went dark. The air was still. Not even the cicadas of summer dared disturb the silence. On the desk below her window was a neatly-folded note, glistening for a moment with the same otherworldly light. For a moment, she was frozen in place, unable to move due to the foreboding fear coiling in her gut. However, the letter unfolded on its own upon her touch, and she realized she could not ignore it.
“Princess,
We have been watching over you. Please accept our sincerest apologies for taking so long to find you. We needed to be sure you were indeed true. Worry not, for you will be reclaimed on the next full moon.
You will soon be home, dear Kaguya.”
Below the short passage was a seal. An official seal that seemed to be fused to and float above it’s spot on the parchment at the same time. It was not a seal she’d ever seen before, but the round design made it clear where the letter had come from. The moon…
“What’s this?” Lord Nobunaga asked, picking up the letter as she poured his tea.
“It came to me last night.”
MC left out the part about it coming from the moon itself for fear of sounding foolish. After all how was she supposed to explain to her lord that, due to all of his own tournaments that it was his fault the moon itself thought she was THE Princess Kaguya?
It was common enough now for Lord Nobunaga to offer her as the prize for his ridiculous tournaments and contests, usually with Lord Ieyasu but sometimes with his own retainers or allies that came to visit. She expected he did it the first time to see her flustered reaction at being offered on a silver plate to Ieyasu Tokugawa himself the first time she’d met him, but now she wondered if it was still to tease her or if he enjoyed showing off his skills and being able to claim her as “his” when he won. Not that she wasn’t. She’d been under the employment of the Oda clan for a while now, and Nobunaga made her his personal cook the moment he learned she could make his favorite sweets. She’d objected to being treated as a prize at first, flustering at the implications when she was called to his room that night.
“You’re mine now, are you not? I was victorious over the Tanuki.”
In the end, he only requested she feed him konpeito as he used her lap as a pillow.
She’d since “belonged” to almost every retainer of the Oda clan who’d won the tournament, and even Lord Ieyasu himself at one point. Of course, that mostly only entailed cooking their favorite foods, serving them first at dinner, and pouring their sake. Lord Ieyasu had taken perhaps too much joy in running her ragged with errands before demanding as much strawberry daifuku as she could make. Hideyoshi and Inuchiyo had both instructed her to get rest, though Hideyoshi’s friendly mannerisms and implications of bedsharing had her childhood friend seeing red. The most relaxing time she’d ever had was when she was in the service of Lord Mitsuhide, who simply gave her days upon days off and asked she learn the tea ceremony and poetry. However, she never “belonged” to anyone other than their liege lord for long. After a while Nobunaga would win her back in a spur-of-the-moment tournament or things would simply return to how it had always been. No one dared lay a hand on her.
“Used as the prize again, were you? I’m sorry.” Lord Katsuie laughed as she’d poured his sake for him, his sincere apology hidden behind his jovial grin. “You’re a regular Princess Kaguya.”
“Not at all. I’m used to it by now.” She said with a bright smile. “A Princess Kaguya? I don’t mind the sound of that. Though, I doubt I’m worthy of such a title.”
That day she had no idea of the eyes on her from the dias as Lord Nobunaga tapped his fan to his knee impatiently, or the eyes apparently on her from the moon that heard every word. A few days later she was back in the hands of her liege lord after he called a sumo tournament on, and had been ever since.
Now, it was her that tapped her knee anxiously as she watched his eyes read over the short letter, stopping briefly at the seal, and then read it over again. She had no idea how long he’d been doing so. The tea no longer steamed.
“Lord Nobunaga, your tea will go cold…”
He blinked, seemingly snapped out of a trance. With a jerk of his arm the letter was ripped in two. He tossed the offending pieces of parchment away from him, as if they’d insulted him personally.
“Ridiculous.” He muttered before grabbing the jar of konpeito she’s made and dumping a number of the sugar stars into his hand.
“L-Lord Nobunaga…?!” She squeaked, moving to retrieve the ripped letter. “What about—?”
“Leave it.”
MC stilled, her hand dropping to her side. She swallowed, something in her chest dropping. She may have been naive, but she had no grand fantasies about how her lord felt about her. She didn’t hope for tender feelings from him, but this felt as if he were casting her out. She didn’t know what she’d expected from giving him the letter, but it definitely wasn’t disregard.
“If The Moon wants you, it can take you from me the same as any other has tried.”
MC blinked. “Lord Nobunaga?”
A smile played at his lips, confident but barely visible in his profile. “No one, not even the Moon, can match me. That’s what Divine Rule means.”
“But--”
“Hey.”
She blinked, her eyes wrenching away from the tattered parchment to him. His eyes suddenly gave her pause. Usually they were as cold as the steel of the rifles he loved, but now they seemed to burn with a molten fire. What had brought that on?
“Konpeito.”
It didn’t feel like a demand. His voice was firm but perhaps not as cold. Either way, MC didn’t have it in her heart to refuse him. She never did. So, she turned away from the note to retrieve the jar from his desk. Lord Nobunaga himself moved away from his desk, the papers he’d been sifting through now forgotten, to sit on his bedding. MC knew, of course, what that meant. Her lap was his favorite pillow, though he rarely requested the use of it without reason. She only hoped that her company and some sweets could offer him comfort from whatever it was. Besides that, she quite enjoyed the weight of his head on her lap. It was...intimate in a way she did not expect.
“You don’t need to worry. Stop making that face.”
“What face?”
“The face you make when you’re troubled.” His head settled across her thighs and he tapped the jar in her hand with a childlike impatience.
She managed a smile, and they sat in silence for a while, nothing but the sound of his faint crunching on the hard candies and the tinking of them against the glass filling the room. She hated how still it was. It felt different than when she’d fed him before. There was no teasing. No feel of his lips or tongue lingering on the tips of her fingers solely to make her blush. On the contrary, he was barely looking at her at all. It was heavy. Suffocating. She couldn’t stand it.
“Lord Nobunaga, I--”
“Would you want to go?”
“Pardon?”
“Not to the moon but...home.”
Lord Nobunaga was looking at her now, his eyes molten again. It seemed as though he was...searching her. Pleading. Begging for an answer.
“Well...I suppose it wouldn’t be so bad to go back home.” He stiffened immediately at her words, turning away. She placed another sugar star against his lips to stop him from rising. “But I wouldn’t be able to stay away long. A visit would be fine. I’d love to see mother and Yahiko again. But if I leave, who will make your konpeito?”
This time, she did smile. A soft, tender thing meant only for the times they shared. His lips opened, accepting the candy. They lingered on her fingertips, and if she didn’t know any better she might have heard a sigh of relief as he ate it. His eyes closed and he settled back against her more comfortably,closing his eyes. However, when she moved to pull her hand from him she found his own grasping it firmly, clutching her fingers like a lifeline.
“You belong to me don’t you?”
Lord Nobunaga’s words were now firm and left no room for argument. They never did. “Yes milord. You won the sumo tournament.”
He didn’t reply. His eyes remained closed. Her hand would have hurt if not for the way his tone made her heart ache. MC sat the jar beside them, using her now free hand to push away the strands of hair that had fallen in his face.
“Yes Lord Nobunaga. I belong to you.”
His arms were suddenly around her, his face buried in her stomach. Her cheeks flared at the sudden change. The sudden haste and desperation in which he held her. As if he were challenging anyone, even the heavens, to take her from him.
SotRFitH: Sorcerer's Apprentice, have you ever met the current Dark One?
“Hello, dearie.”
The apprentice stiffened, his cup of tea nearly slipping from his hands. He turned slowly, his brows furrowing at the sight before him.
The lady was dressed in a deep purple, marking of elaborate flowers embroidered over her sleeves and low-cut neck. The skirt fanned out beneath her in elegant ruffles, giving her the whole look of a rose. She’d be unbearably beautiful save for her glinting gold skin and the dark magic that sparked around her.
“So the rumors are true.” The apprentice said. “There’s a new Dark One.”
“Dark Lady.” Belle corrected, stepping around to stand before him. She sat at his table easily, giggling at the way his eyes widened. “Calm down I’m only here for a social call.”
“I don’t remember calling you.”
“No but I was curious. I’m told I’m too curious. I don’t believe becoming The Dark Lady has helped.”
The sorcerer’s apprentice tilted his head as she waved her hand, summoning her own tea service as to impose on him. Her posture as she sat was perfectly poise and it was obvious from her speech that she was well-read. Not at all like the barbarian Zoso who sought the hat so forcefully.
“You’ll not get what you came for.” The old man said.
The Dark Lady hummed, “And what is it you think I’ve come for? The hat? Afraid not, dearie.”
“Why are you here then?”
“I simply want some information.” Belle said, sipping her tea. “You see, I’m afraid I became The Dark Lady for a singular purpose and now with that purpose over I find myself quite bored.” She regarded him over her teacup for a moment. “And I’m afraid you’re the only one that came to mind that might give me a good conversation without running for the hills. Honestly was my predecessor so bad?”
“He was.” The apprentice said. “You don’t seek the hat?”
She rolled her eyes. “A magical hat that captures and accumulates magic? No I think not. Unless it can absorb dark magic from one’s very being and soul and leave them alive?” The sorcerer frowned. “No I suppose not. Either way, no. Such a thing does not interest me. I grew up a lady in a kingdom ravaged by war, Apprentice. I know better than anyone that raw strength amounts to very little.”
The Sorcerer’s Apprentice watched, the air around them tense with the swirling light and dark magic. The Dark Lady was completely at-ease at his humble table, across from him drinking her tea. There was no lie in her voice. No twinge in her magic.
“You’re...different than the others.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“You haven’t given in to the darkness.”
She only chuckled. “Oh no, apprentice. I think you’ll find I have quite thoroughly. It’s intoxicating.” She giggled, an odd manic sound. “But still, I’m not here for the hat. I simply want to find a good place to call home. A castle fit for a lady with lands worthy of her subjects.”
“You expect me to point you in the directions of lands you can pilliage?”
“Of course not, dearie. I expect you to make a deal with me...”
Wedding Prompts: Rumbelle and Red Cricket, combination of #24 with #3. Pongo's wedding, bouquet is 'thrown' to Rumbelle to get their act together.
“Who has a wedding for their dogs?”
“The wedding isn’t FOR their dogs it’s for them. The dogs are just included.”
Gold rolled his eyes, grumbling to himself from his seat on the outskirts of the wedding crowd. Beside him, Belle giggled, watching on as the newly wed Ruby and Archie Hopper as they danced to a song that wasn't even real a slow dance. No one was going to correct them, though. The ceremony had been gorgeous, and Belle had been happy to serve as bridesmaid for Ruby. Their two dalmatians, Pongo and Perdita had long since been breeding partners and considering they were what had (literally) finally drug Ruby and Archie together, it was only fitting they be included in the wedding too. The whole town had been invited to the affair and though people were surprised that Mr. Gold made an appearance, no one was surprised when Belle immediately gravitated to him.
“Aren’t you going to dance?” He asked.
“I’m just resting my feet.” Belle said.
“She’ll be throwing the boquet soon.”
Belle’s eyes turned to the dance floor where the couples were stopping. Mary Margaret was crossing it, Ruby’s boquet of wildflowers and wolfsbane in her arms.
“So she is.”
“Don’t you need to go up there?”
Gold’s gaze was on her. To anyone else, it would seem as though he was trying to get rid of her. Belle, however, was different. She new she was different. Knew that he knew she was different. Belle watched as all the single ladies in Storybrooke gathered to fight for the boquet. Aurora even called her over. Still, Belle didn’t move from her spot beside Gold. He wouldn’t budge on things. It was obvious to her by now she’d have to give him the push. And hadn’t she waited long enough anyway?
“I don’t know.” Belle said, her gaze holding his. She saw something spark behind her eyes, and it only encouraged her. “Should I?”
Gold only blinked at her, his jaw going slack. Belle raised an eyebrow, the cheers of the many women echoing around them as Ruby prepared to toss her bouquet. Gold swallowed, taking a breath.
“You need--”
The cheering grew louder, and many gasps and yelps rang through it. Before Gold could finish his thought, the bouquet suddenly fell onto his head, landing in Belle’s hands. With wide eyes, she turned to Ruby, who gave her a wink.
“That’s a hint you two.” She called. “Hope this is the push you needed, Belle!”
She didn’t have the heart to tell Ruby she’d already given Gold the push she’d mentioned, and this was mare of a hard shove.
Belle meets Baelfire, just like literally everyone prompted.
Chapter One
Gold hadn't expected a text from Belle that week. He wasn't quite sure why he'd given his divorce attorney his personal number. He told himself because it was quite easier to keep up with but it was much more likely because Belle French was...Well he didn't know what she was and calling her magic was simply juvenile.
“Does Baelfire like books?”
The question was still sitting happily in his inbox, perfectly content. Of course she'd ask about books. Her office was practically a library.
“Yes. He enjoys reading.” Was his response after an hour and 17 minutes. After all, he couldn't appear as if he only had his phone for entertainment and contact to the outside world on weeks he didn't have his son.
Her response was immediate. “Books and swans. Perfect! I have a great gift for him then. See you both Saturday!”
Gold frowned. Books and swans, she’d said. He wondered if he should tell her that his son had more than one copy of “The Ugly Duckling.” He wasn't even sure if his son enjoyed the story anymore. He was about to text back and tell her not to bother with something so trivial. Was it even appropriate for his custody attorney to be getting his son a gift? In the end, though, he only sent back a thank you. Whether it was from lack of courage for fear of angering the woman who controlled the outcome of this ordeal, or from sheer trust of Belle he didn't know.
He liked to believe it was the former.
“Who are we going to see?” Baelfire asked as Gold helped him out of the car. He re-adjusted the sling his arm was in. The doctor didn't say he explicitly needed it, but Gold felt a lot better about him having it when they went out.
“Our custody attorney.” Gold said, opening the door of the building for his son and leading him to the elevator. “Her name is Belle French.”
“Why can't Midas do it?”
His son’s tone was rather bitter, and ahold wondered if Belle’s belief in Bae meeting her had some merit. The elevator came and Gold let his son press the button to Belle’s floor.
“Midas doesn't specialize in this.” Gold explained. “But he recommended Belle.”
“And she's gonna make it so I can live with you?”
“She’ll do her best.”
Baelfire seemed to accept this, fiddling with his sling as the elevator brought them up to Belle’s floor. Gold tried to ignore the knot tangling in his stomach as the elevator doors opened. For whatever reason, it seemed important that Baelfire like Belle. It was ridiculous, of course. Once this was all over they’d never see each other again. The sentiment was almost as ridiculous as the way his stomach dropped when Belle’s office door opened and the same broad-shouldered man from the picture on her desk walked out, Belle following easily
“Thank you so much for helping bring that up, Gaston.”
“Anytime, Bluebell.” The man smiled broadly. “You’re gonna end up making that office into an apartment one of these days. All that’s missing is a cot and a microwave.”
“Oh your office is the same way.”
The other man chuckled, and Gold frowned. Belle’s smile was wide but not as bright as it had been when he'd visited. Perhaps something was wrong? That was disconcerting for a number of reasons. However, his fears soon disappeared when he cleared his throat and Belle turned to him, her eyes lighting up the entire room.
“Mr. Gold. Hello again!”
“I'll get out of your hair.” The other man said immediately, and Gold couldn't help the confident smirk that crossed his face. “See you tomorrow, Bluebell.”
“See you Gaston.” Belle said easily, waving the other man off before stepping out of her office to hold the door open for them. “How was your drive in, Mr. Gold?”
“It was fine.” Gold said, his tone perhaps too harsh. “Belle, this is my son, Baelfire.”
Belle gave a gentle smile. Kneeling down so that she was on eye-level with his son, she held out her hand so that Baelfire could shake it with his good hand.
“It's nice to meet you, Baelfire. I'm Belle French, your custody attorney.”
The boy frowned. “You're papa’s custody attorney.”
“Not when the custody concerns you.” Belle said, seemingly unaffected by his son’s skeptical eyes. After a moment of internal debate, however, he shook her hand, and Belle beamed. “We'll step right into my office, you two. Sit wherever you like. Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea? Juice box?”
Gold wrinkled his nose. “You have juice boxes in your office?”
“Only when I have a case.” Belle said. “Gaston wasn't kidding when he said the office is practically like an apartment sometimes.”
Gold’s mouth quirked slightly. He knew all about practically living in one’s office. As they stepped in he saw things had indeed been changed. The front area for her secretary had been moved around, giving the desk room on one side and making way for a makeshift reading nook with bookshelves and a settee on the other. Belle’s side also sported a settee by a bookshelf but also a mini fridge in the back corner as well as a coffee maker and hot plate that seemed to have a tea kettle on it. The other man had been right. With a cot and a microwave it would have indeed been an appartment.
“Do you have CapriSun?”
His son’s question snapped Gold out of his trance, and Belle gave a smile before producing one from the fridge.
“Have a seat.” She told them. “Can I get you anything Mr. Gold? Coffee? Tea? I just made some Camomile.”
“Tea would be lovely.”
Belle gave a nod, seeming to busy herself with retrieving the tea as his son determinedly stuck the straw into his juice box using only one hand. A comfortable silence fell over them, interrupted only by Baelfire’s slurping and the pouring of tea. It was odd. Normally if a silence feel in an attorney’s office he’d be worried. Anxious that something had gone wrong. However, as Belle finished preparing the tea and came to sit at her desk with their cups, he was anxious for a completely different reason.
“Are you and papa gonna talk boring legal stuff?” Baelfire asked, his nose wrinkling.
Gold opened his mouth to reprimand his son and remind him of his manners, but Belle cut him off with a laugh. She sat a teacup before him, and the warmth of the ceramic calmed him if only a little.
“Not today.” Belle said. “Today’s more about you. What do you know about these cases?”
Baelfire only blinked at her, and Gold looked to his son helplessly. He hadn't talked about how court cases went with his son. He and Midas knew the ins and outs so thoroughly it was rarely an issue. Baelfire had never shown any interest in his work. Not only that, but Belle didn't seem to be shying away from sharing the details with his son, leveling with him in a way even he never had. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. Gold had spent quite a bit of time shielding his son from the cruelties of the world. He didn't need to be reminded of them now especially.
“Not much.” Baelfire said eventually. “Just that you're gonna make it so I can live with papa.”
“I'll do my best.” Belle said, echoing what Gold had told him moments before. “I mainly don't want you to be surprised by anything. This might get a bit hard for everyone, and the more you know about how things work the better.”
Baelfire nodded, and Gold was immensely impressed by how easily Belle seemed to explain things to him. Not only the things abnormal attorney would know such as how the case and hearings would go and what the judge would take into account, but also what the two of them could expect throughout the case when it came to stress and the like. Her voice never wavered from the kind, almost tender tone she’d originally had when she mentioned to him how the case would be hard for Baelfire. His son listened intently, nodding when need be. His eyes were intense and focused, but his posture was easy and relaxed as he sipped away on his Capri-Sun, and once again Gold was astounded with just how reassuring Belle could be. It helped that her knowledge of the custody case was so thorough, no doubt. Almost...intimate.
“Oh!” She exclaimed, clapping her hands once she was done with her explanation. “I almost forgot.”
Gold blinked over his now empty teacup as Belle leaned to a far drawer of her desk and pulled out a book. He leaned closer, trying to get a good look at it, but she handed it to his son before he could.
“This is for you.”
Baelfire looked at the book skeptically, then set down his empty juice packet to inspect it.
“The Trumpet of the Swan?” Baelfire flipped through the pages. “I've never heard of it.”
“Your dad mentioned you liked swans.” Belle said, her voice uneven for the first time since Gold had met her.
“They're my favorite.” Baelfire admitted sheepishly.
Belle beamed. “Well this story was one of my favorites growing up. My business card is in there marking my favorite spot. If you need me you can call the number written on it.” Her gaze turned to Gold, and his grip on his teacup wavered. “Both of you.”
Baelfire nodded, and Belle picked up her cup of tea. It had gone cold during her explanation of the custody case, but she didn't seem to mind.
“Well…” she said. “That's all I had planned for today. Do you two have any questions for me?” Baelfire shook his head. “Do you want another juice box or more tea?”
“Can I have another?”
Belle gave his son a smile and rose to get his son another Capri-Sun. “And you, Mr. Gold?”
“I…” He hesitated. He should get home. It wasn't a school night but it was the beginning of his weekend with Baelfire and he hated to miss any time he got with his son. And yet, as Belle tilted her head at him and he was once again pinned with her brilliant blue eyes he found he didn't want to leave. “One more cup would be lovely.”
She smiled, coming over to put him another cup as she refreshed her own. She asked him about his job and they talked for a while about antiques and antique books and the town of Storybrooke. The passion she had for books was astounding, and it was a wonder she'd gone into the attorney profession at all with the way she talked about libraries. He wasn't sure how long they'd simply talked, but his tea was running out and Baelfire had already made it through a chapter of his book.
After a while she asked Baelfire about his cast and before he knew it she was signing it with a golden sharpie.
“Belle, are you married?”
Gold opened his mouth, but the scolding he had for his son about remembering manners died on his tongue with Belle’s musical giggle.
“No I'm not.” She answered easily, finishing off her tea. “I'm not in a relationship of any kind, really. Unless it's with my job.”
“Would you wanna be?”
Belle seemed to consider this. “I wouldn't mind being married and part of a family if that's what you mean. Why the sudden personal question?”
“You had juice boxes and a book for me and tea.” Baelfire shrugged, glancing to his father before turning back to her. “With the way you talked you just seemed like you'd make a better wife for Papa than mom.”
The sound of porcelain hitting the hardwood floor of Belle’s office echoed through the room, and Gold’s face paled as quickly as it had flushed. It took him a moment to realize his cup had fallen.
“I'm sorry.” He stuttered, leaning down to retrieve the cup, swallowing when he realized what had happened. Not only had he spilled the remainder of his tea under her desk, but her cup was ruined. “It's chipped…”
“It's only a cup.” Belle said.
“It seemed old…”
“Look.” Belle said, taking it from his hand, her fingers brushing his ever so slightly. “You can hardly see it. No harm done.”
“Y-yes.” He cleared his throat. “Of course.”
Belle seemed to try and hold back a laugh, bringing her bottom lip between her teeth. After a moment she blinked, remembering herself, then she leaned towards Baelfire.
“Why don't we let your papa worry about the custody case first. Then finding a wife.”
She gave his son a wink, and Baelfire beamed. His son, it seemed, was as taken with their attorney as he was. Gold could only hope that was a good omen.
Snow on the Roof, Fire in the Hearth II Chapter Nine
Chapter One I Chapter Two I Chapter Three I Chapter Four I Chapter Five I Chapter Six I Chapter Seven I Chapter Eight
AO3
Baelfire had been silent ever since he’d handed him the piece of parchment Belle had given him. His eyes scanned the page. The writing was hurried but certainly had a purpose. Bae’s eyes were focused, and Rumpelstiltskin worried for a moment if making the initial deal with Belle was such a good idea at all.
“Papa?” Baelfire’s voice finally came as Rumpelstiltskin took the tea pot away from the fire. “How long has The Ogres War been?”
Rumpelstiltskin blinked at his son. That certainly wasn’t the question he expected.
“Years.” He finally said. “It was raging even since before you were born.”
Baelfire seemed to consider this, only nodding. Even though he was quiet, there was no doubting that his son was lighter since the day before, his lips even quirking into a smile.
“Are you alright?” Rumpelstiltskin asked. He didn’t like his son to be so silent, and hoped it wasn’t a bad sign.
Baelfire nodded, a smile spreading on his lips. “I'm glad Morraine is alright. I'll...I'll thank Belle tomorrow.”
“Yes.” Rumpelstiltskin said, glad when his son joined him by the pot of stew he’d been preparing. “Yes me too.”
~
“I ought to skin you alive.” Granny practically growled as she dropped a glass of milk on The Dark Lady’s nightstand.
Belle grumbled, her eyes barely opening. “Honestly, no gratitude for putting an end to the war? Thank you, Belle. You're amazing, Belle.”
“You could have died.”
“No I can't. I'm The Dark Lady.”
“You’re bedridden.”
Belle gave a glare to Granny, sitting up to drink the milk at her bed side. It warmed her body and settled her stomach, which was good considering the roiling she’d felt all morning. Granny was still glaring at her, and Belle sighed.
“I know.”
“Oh do you, now?”
“To be fair, stopping a war wasn’t on your list of things that were off-limits.”
“I figured that was a given.”
Granny sat down beside her on the bed, running a hand over her stomach. Belle swallowed, unable to bear the thought of anything happening to her child. She imagined, had she been a normal woman, she would have locked herself in her library or room for the nine moons. But she was The Dark Lady. There was no safer mother to have.
“They’re fine.” Granny said. “And your stomach?”
“Horrid. I thought we were past this nonsense.”
“It depends on the woman. Or sometimes the father.” Granny paused. “I didn’t think you’d have these problems, being who you are…”
“I shouldn’t. And I shouldn’t be like this after a simple spell.” Belle glared at the sheets, the darkness roaring to life inside of her, warning her against it all. But it felt different. Not as loud. Almost...weaker. She felt weaker. That couldn’t happen. “I need a favor.”
“A favor?”
“I need you to find a certain fairy. At the moment, she and I aren’t on speaking terms.”
~
“Hello Rumpelstiltskin.” Ruby greeted easily as she walked the path back to the castle.
Despite the falling snow, the spinner was outside inspecting his house. She watched as his eyes wandered over his roof and his hands ran over his windows, looking for any sign of draft. She wondered if that was an old habit that hadn't been broken yet.
“Ruby.” He greeted, almost startled to see her.
“Staying warm?” She asked. It was a silly question. All of the houses in The Dark Lands stayed warm.
Rumpelstiltskin nodded. “Of course.”
“Good.” She shifted the basket of bread from one arm to another. “I trust you've settled in over the past few months.”
“Yes. We’ve been quite comfortable.”
Ruby nodded, giving him a grin. “There's a rumor that you're planning to court someone. Most of the eligible ladies are all abuzz with whispers of who it could be.”
Of course, she knew exactly who it was. And the way he looked away from her, his eyes sheepish and cheeks pink was all the confirmation she needed. He looked as if he wanted to deny the claim and dismiss them as only rumors, but then his eyes fell to the basket of bread on her arm.
“How's…?”
Ruby’s eyes softened. It was amazing how he cared for her. Belle might have looked for a father of her child who she could forget about shortly after, but Rumpelstiltskin was certainly more than she'd been expecting.
“She's having a bit of a rough day.” Ruby confessed. “She gave me the day off this morning. She doesn't like anyone to see her in rough shape. Not even Granny.”
Rumpelstiltskin nodded. He certainly understood that.
“I suppose it's to be expected though.”
“My...Baelfire’s mother said her pregnancy was hard as well.”
“Well what she did yesterday didn't help.”
Guilt coiled in his gut. He'd made the deal with her out of fear something happening to her. Out of fear for their child. Surely if she only had a day she would have come back whether her business was finished or not. Instead she'd pushed far too hard.
It was all his fault.
“She went out of the lands and rode fairly hard.”
Ruby blinked at him, tilting her head. “She hasn't told you what she did?”
Rumpelstiltskin’s brows furrowed, and he shook his head. Ruby sighed, rolling her eyes. Of course she hadn't. The world seeing her as a monster for slaying so many things all at once was one thing. She was The Dark Lady. Even as she ended a war whispers would spin it against her. But the likes of her village seeing her as a monster, especially the father of her child, was another.
“Nevermind.” Ruby said.
“She's…” Rumpelstiltskin paused. “Is she okay?”
“She's fine. A bit stubborn. She doesn't like it when we take care of her.”
“I could.” The words slipped out before he could stop them, and Ruby smiled.
“I’m sure you could. I’m just not sure she’s ready to admit that’s what she wants.”
Rumpelstiltskin frowned, but nodded. “If she needs anything…”
“I’ll let you know.”
“Thank you.”
Ruby smiled. With a small bow she turned, walking down the road to the castle. Yes. Belle certainly got more than she was expecting with this one. And that certainly wasn’t a bad thing.
~
It was the fourth Market Day in which the Spinner was present and the village was still abuzz. Not that Belle was complaining. She’d already been assured by Baelfire that they’d set aside her order for the month and that had been enough for her. She was not as worn as she had been, though she was sure she didn’t look quite herself given the whispers looming in the groups of gossiping girls that lined the stalls.
It took Belle only a moment to realize they were not, in fact, whispering about her.
Belle stiffened at the word that floated to her ears as she passed a group on the way to Mrs. Pott’s stall. Courting. That’s what had been swarming around the market all day.
She both loved and dreaded that word.
“It’s good to see you out and about, my lady.” Mrs. Potts said with a warm smile as Belle approached her stall. “How are you feeling? We were amiss to not see you last month. Is the little one doing well?”
“We’re fine.” Belle said, running her hand over her stomach. Her bump had gotten larger. Soon she’d have to commission new dresses again.
“So glad to hear.”
“What’s all this courting nonsense I’ve heard today?” Belle asked as Mrs. Potts handed her a new vase to inspect.
“Oh!” Mrs. Potts gasped, her eyes twinkling. “Well, they’re only rumors, milady, but there’s talk that the new spinner will be courting someone soon.”
The vase very nearly fell from Belle’s hands. Her eyes flickered only a moment to the end of the lane where Rumpelstiltskin sat in his stall. Baelfire was gone, replaced with the cobbler’s widow, who seemed to only be the first in line of many to look over the spinner. Courting. He’d be courting someone. It was fact now. Of course, she’d known that. But hearing it from someone who wasn’t his son made it seem…final.
“Milady?”
“I’m fine.” Belle said, clearing her throats and dropping a few coins absently in the woman’s hands. “Have a good day.”
Mrs. Potts gave her a nod, and Belle turned to make her usual rounds. Head held high. Easily putting on her facade. It was getting harder and harder to manage that these days. She had gone two steps before Jefferson approached her, intercepting whatever thoughts and steps she had been taking to avoid the spinner’s booth entirely.
“What are you thinking, little rabbit?” He asked, steering her to his booth full of hats.
“I’m thinking that making a harem would have been infinitely less complicated.”
~
A siren had taken residence in her lake. Belle frowned at the shiver of magic that ran up her spine, almost painful in how cold it was. She knew when everything and anything entered The Dark Lands. It had been the first charm she’d cast over it, running it through the very forests and water of her borders, ensuring she would never be surprised. And now twice an outsider had come and seen fit to threaten them. Perhaps word of her pregnancy was making the foolhardy bold. Whatever the case, the siren must have been very brave or very stupid. And The Dark Lady’s patience was running low.
It was night when Belle exited the castle and waved her hand, spiriting herself to the lakeshore with merely a thought. Her stomach roiled from the transportation, but the anger bubbling within her evened it out.
This was good.
Between her unusual weakness bouts and the line of women making eyes at her spinner that wasn’t her spinner. she needed something to take all of her frustration out on. The melody of singing could already be heard, and it grated against Belle’s ears.
“Show yourself.” She spoke easily, voice rising above the siren’s song.
The water rippled under her voice, a figure dressed in a white gown emerging from the lake. It gave The Dark Lady a simple grin, though did not cease its song. Belle frowned, glaring at it. The creature made her skin crawl. It was in her lands, a threat to her town. It must be dealt away with.
“You’re too late.” The siren said, its voice airy and confident. “He’s already mine.”
“I think you’ll find your song will be quite useless if you’re dead.” Belle said, taking a few steps into the chilling water of the lake. “Your kind know better than to dwell here.”
“And you know better than to show weakness.”
Another chill ran up Belle’s spine as she heard something tumble out of the bushes and hit the ground behind her. As she turned her heart stuttered in her chest. Rumpelstiltskin’s cloak had apparently gotten caught on a branch and fall to the ground as he emerged from the forest. The forest that separated the back of his field from the lake. Belle’s jaw clenched as she watched him deftly struggle to get up for a moment, making no move to help him. Because the creature was right. She knew better than to show weakness.
“How about a deal?” The siren purred, her song still echoing and weaving through the air. “You have so many nice men in your village…Just one? Every few months? Perhaps every year? What’s the life of one man compared to his?”
Belle remained silent. Rumpelstiltskin was up now, his eyes glassy and distant, watching something that wasn’t at all her.
“You’re playing with fire, dearie.” Belle growled.
Whirling around, she grabbed the siren by the neck, hoisting her out of the water. “You had your chance to leave. Now you will suffer.”
The creature only laughed. “Such anger. No. I believe it is you who plays with fire, Dark Lady.”
Effortlessly, the neck of the siren was crushed under Belle’s hand, tearing her skin and breaking its breath. It’s death would be slow as it bled and suffocated. The Dark Lady grinned as her dark magic sparked around her, but she held it back. After all, she was determined to make the creature suffer. With a cry, The Dark Lady tossed the creature back into the lake, its body sinking to the bottom, a warning for all others foolish enough to try something similar.
The song waned, becoming faint. And Belle revelled in the victory.
“Belle…” The Dark Lady’s eyes jerked to the spinner, already waist-deep in the chilling water, eyes searching the darkness helplessly. “I can barely hear you now…”
“I’m here, Rumple.” Belle said, taking the steps to go out further into the lake with him, heedless of the chill in her bones. He wasn’t stopping. “Rumpelstiltskin I’m here.”
She grabbed hold of his arm, but he only tried to pull it away from her. “You were just there in the water…I can’t swim well but I’ll come there if that’s what you want.”
She was in front of him now, searching his eyes as the song of the siren faded with the creature’s life. “Rumple stop. You must. It’s a trick.”
“I’ll follow…Keep calling to me.” He shivered slightly as his chest hit the water, not even using his walking stick anymore. “I’ll follow wherever you are. I’ll come back” He wasn’t going back no matter how she pushed him, desperately trying to get him away from harm, her voice falling on deaf ears. His hands were shaking. He’d freeze before anything. “I’ll always come back to yo–”
His words were cut off abruptly as Belle stopped pushing and instead did the only other thing that came to mind. The only other thing she knew would break the Siren’s Curse over a man. She pulled him to her, hard, their forms colliding together in the water. His lips were frigid against hers, but responded effortlessly. Her hands snaked around his waist, holding him tightly against her. She was surprised when his arms found their way around her as well, holding onto her tightly. So tightly it almost hurt.
Oh but it was awful how right all of it felt. How his very tough lit a fire under her skin. Something primal inside of her roared to life, demanding, pleading for more. The saner part of her struggled to keep her hands firmly gripping his shirt.
“Belle…” He whispered, his voice an odd mix of relief and something Belle simply could not name.
“Shhh…” She cooed, shivering as the song died and silence consumed the night. “Let’s get you warmed up.”
“You called me.”
“It was a siren. They take the form of anyone you...well anyone you find attractive.”
“It sounded like your voice…”
“I know.”
Her hand trembled as she waved it, bringing them to The Great Hall in a wisp of smoke. The roaring fire already felt as if it was thawing her, and she found herself leaning against her spinner. Not that he seemed to mind.
“Good dream…” He murmured, leaning down to capture her lips in another kiss in the cloudiness of his mind.
It was sweet, impossibly sweet, until her tears made it salty. The siren had taken her form, and it was the effects of the siren song still that had him in this state.
“I’m glad.” She whispered, the smile bittersweet on her lips. It was torture to pull away from him, and she hated how it was. “You’re only to have good dreams like this from now on.”
“I should stay.”
“No, I’m getting you home.”
His body faltered, and suddenly she found it was she who was supporting his weight. Something akin to a groan left him as his forehead pressed to her shoulder.
“Should stay.”
Belle frowned. “Why?”
“Want to...Take care of you.”
Instantly, a cloud of smoke engulfed Rumpelstiltskin, taking him away. He’d wake up in his bed and think all of the night was what he originally thought: a dream. Belle pressed a hand over her mouth, fighting back the odd onslaught of tears that seemed to come out of nowhere.
“Damn hormones…” Belle muttered to herself, taking a few deep breaths and eventually pulling herself together.
The darkness inside of her stirred, raging against her moment of weakness. She was The Dark Lady. The Dark Lady did not kiss. Did not cry. The Dark Lady took. The Dark Lady killed. Tonight with the siren had worked off as many frustrations as it brought about. And one thing was certain.
(( Based on this post made like a year ago in which @emospritelet commented on her property law tutor and @tinuviel-undomiel gave me a plot bunny. I blame all of you for this. This ‘verse is open for prompts so yeah! Feel free to send them in if you like it! ))
Favors had been called in. Strings had been pulled. Phones had been yelled and cursed into. Now, Gold was sitting outside the doors of B. French, the most renown custody attorney on the east coast. Gold only hoped that given the right amount of money, he could help. Or rather, she could help.
His son had a broken arm.
Everything in Jeffrey Gold’s life had stopped the moment he got the call from the school and was now pinpointed on the simple fact that his son had a broken arm. And that it was all his mother’s fault. Milah would be lucky that he didn’t kill her for this.
He didn't care that he had to drive to New York. He didn't care that he had to pay medical bills. But he did care that all the while Milah was nowhere to be found, not even showing up until that night when it was time for Bae to go home from the ER. He should have done something about it then. Something more than barking a warning to his ex-wife about lawyers and walking off.
Really, he should have done something about it months ago, when Bae started dragging out their every-other-weekend visits until the very last moments. The least he could do was fight for his boy, which is exactly what he planned to do when he called Dove. Favors had been called in. Strings had been pulled. Phones had been yelled and cursed into. Now, he was sitting outside the doors of B. French, the most renown custody attorney on the east coast. Gold only hoped that given the right amount of money, he could help.
The door to his office opened, and a brunette with the most brilliant blue eyes smiled at him. “Jeffrey Gold?”
“Yes.” He said, almost falling over as he leapt up.
She only smiled. “Come in.”
Gold thought it a bit odd for the secretary to be waving him into the attorney’s office, but he supposed it wasn’t too unheard of. The office itself was divided in two, a space for a small desk that must be hers with what he assumed to be a much larger part in the back. The brunette led him straight back into the larger space easily. Both offices were warm and welcoming, painted with warm neutral colors that immediately put him at ease. The walls themselves were neatly decorated with various certificates as well as the occasional pictures of happy families. In both spaces there were at least two bookcases overflowing with books that Gold assumed had to be about law but couldn’t tell. The back area was worse than the front in terms of books, but everything obviously had a place. On a mahogany desk there was a gold plaque that read “B. French.” Beside it was a picture of the same brunette with another man, taller and broader than she, smiling happily at the camera.
Was she his wife and secretary perhaps? That wasn’t too uncommon. Lucky man.
“So Mr. Gold shall we get started?” The brunette asked, sitting at the desk as if she’d done so a million times before.
For a moment he gaped at her. “With you?”
“Belle French.” She said with a bright smile, extending a hand to him. “It’s nice to meet you.”
He blinked, but nodded, shaking her hand. “Jeffrey Gold. It’s nice to meet you Mrs. French.”
“Miss, actually.” She said, giving him another dazzling smile. How did she make it look so sincere? “Now, let’s discuss your son. You and your ex wife are sharing custody yes? You get him every other weekend?”
“Yes.” Gold said. “And Christmas.”
Belle nodded, jotting down a few notes in the file.. He knew how this went. The attorney spoke to their client, outlined the idea, discussed the plan. He couldn’t help feeling that something about the way she operated was much different than his methods, though. Every now and then she’d ask him about something completely unrelated. How old his son was made sense, but why on earth had she needed to know his favorite animal?
“Swans.” Gold answered after a moment. “I always find him doodling them in his notes.”
Belle hummed, writing and circling something. Was that really so important?
“I’d like to meet Baelfire, if possible.” Gold remained silent, but she continued, her voice gentle and sympathetic. “I understand if you’re a bit hesitant. But he’s young and custody battles can be quite hard on--”
“I’m aware, Miss French.”
If Gold’s tone was too harsh, Belle didn’t show any signs that it bothered her. “It would help if he at least knew me.” She explained. “I apologize if my methods seem a bit unorthodox to you, Mr. Gold, but I assure you, there’s a reason I haven’t lost a case yet. You’ll have to put some trust in me.”
And that was the hard part, it seemed. Gold trusted no one with his son, not even his own mother. It wasn’t as if B. French was going to be interacting that long with them, but he supposed she did have a point. If it made it easier on Bae, then his boy would simply have to meet their new attorney.
“Very well.” Gold said.
Belle smiled, scribbling something quickly. “Perhaps next meeting? I’ll need to get everything in order. Find out our plan of attack. We’ll have to convince the judge that you’re a better guardian. But I don’t foresee that being too much of a problem given the circumstances. I’m sure you’re aware of how it all typically works.”
Gold shrugged. “I know the basics. Custody cases are not my specialty.”
“Well, lucky for you, Mr. Gold, they are mine.” She gave him another brilliant smile. Had her office gotten brighter? “Now, when next would be best convenient for you?”
The appointment was made for the next weekend, and Gold was grateful that she’d gone out of her way to meet he and his son out of business hours. She didn’t seem too upset about it at all. He stood from the chair across from her desk feeling oddly at-ease. The bundle of nerves that had been squirming in his chest from the moment he’d called and left a message with her secretary about an appointment had disappeared. Somehow, effortlessly, she’d completely put him at-ease with a few smiles and her amazing accent over gentle words.
Perhaps she was magic.
“Everything is in order, Mr. Gold.” She said as she walked him out of her office. “Are you ready for all of this?”
“I’m ready to have my son home and safe.” Gold said.
Belle’s lips quirked up in a smile. “Well you can relax and leave it to me for a bit. I don’t imagine we’ll be hearing from you ex-wife’s attorney for a little while yet.”
“Why is that?”
“Because she called and left a message as well.” Gold’s eyes widened. “And I saw you today instead.”
Gold groaned internally, remembering the choice words he’d had for her secretary when the appointment hadn’t been soon enough to his liking. Or had it been she herself that he’d spoken to? Really, it wouldn’t surprise him if it had been.
“I’ll have to send an apology basket to your secretary.” Gold said. “I didn’t show her my best colors.”
“You were stressed and worried about your son. Speaking of, you’ll have to tell me what he prefers in a gift basket. A broken arm can’t be very fun for a boy his age.”
“He’s adoring the attention.” Gold said, unable to help the smile on his lips that formed whenever his son came up in conversation. “All he could talk about when he called was collecting signatures.”
Belle smiled, practically beaming. “I’m glad to hear he’s doing well. I look forward to meeting him next week.”
Gold nodded, turning to leave. However, something made him pause and turn back to her. She only tilted her head, and he was struck again by how brilliantly blue her eyes were.
“Why did you choose to see me?”
“What do you mean?”
“Wouldn’t most lawyers, especially...women, take the mother’s side?”
“I’m not most lawyers, Mr. Gold.”
“But you are a woman.”
“I’m not most women.”
“As I’m learning. Humor me, perhaps.”
Belle seemed to search him for a moment, and suddenly it felt as if he was the one opposing her. Truly, he felt sorry for any judge or jury that had to face her down. After what seemed to be a moment of fighting with herself, her shoulders relaxed.
“You seemed different.”
“I seemed different. As I cursed at your secretary.”
Belle shrugged. “My father always said that you can’t know a person until you know what’s in their heart. People are layered. I imagine any man willing to fight so hard for his child has to be different than how he appears.”
“And what if I’m not?” Gold frowned. He knew his reputation. Knowing his ex-wife, it was only a matter of time before Belle found out as well. Somehow, he didn’t like that idea. “What if I’m as terrible and dark as I seem?”
Belle only grinned. “You’re not.” She turned away, retreating back into her office. “See you next week, Mr. Gold. Don’t be late.”
Gold only blinked as the door to her office shut, and he was left staring at the door. He ignored the way his pulse had picked up and his palms became sweaty. This was absolutely ridiculous, and he was certain that he should find a new lawyer immediately, one whose blue eyes weren’t so brilliant and whose smiles weren’t so sweet. However, he knew that would never happen, and he also knew that it would be absolutely impossible for him to be late next week. Custody case or not, he very much wanted to see B. French again.
(( No, I have no idea where this idea came from. I had a weird dream and here it is. But hey it’s Dark Castle fluff so enjoy~! ))
_________________
“You make quite the little thief, dearie.”
Belle frowned, running her palm over the leather-bound tome as they arrived back in the great hall. She wondered if the golden cover was the doing of Midas or Rumpelstiltskin.
“I still don’t condone stealing.” Belle said. “I don’t understand why you couldn’t just deal for it.”
“Well I’m not going to very well deal for something that’s already mine.” Rumpelstiltskin said with one of his manic giggles.
“How do you mean it’s already yours?”
“Simple, dearie. It’s about The Dark Curse. Therefore…” He stepped forward, plucking it from her hands. “It’s mine.”
Belle rolled her eyes. Part of her wondered if it had been a test. Some sort of way for her to prove to him that she was loyal. Not that she would ever cross her master. She’d been the maid of The Dark One for months now. She knew better. Still, Rumpelstiltskin was odd about things having to do with The Dark Curse. His curse. And she supposed it wasn’t thievery so much as it was a trade. He’d given her a book to put in its place. Midas’s library was just as vast as theirs. She doubted anyone would know the book had been switched. Especially with all the gold covers. Honestly, how did anyone find anything in there?
Another part of her wondered if he saw how stir-crazy she was becoming in The Dark Castle and this was all a ploy to give her some relief. After all, the deal with Midas’s daughter couldn’t have been for much. He was already in possession of more gold than he could ever spend. She hadn’t even seen what he’d gotten in exchange for whatever deal they’d made.
“Well I hope you’re not making it a habit to bring me along with you to deals only to make me steal for you.” Belle said, moving to sit by the fire.
Rumpelstiltskin followed. “And what if I do, dearie?” He gave her a grin. “I could stop making deals altogether. Simply bring you along and we’ll rob the place blind!”
“Really? Robbing the place blind is your style?”
“I’m The Dark One! I’ll have any style I like. Besides, no one would suspect you. A poor, beautiful damsel in the company of the monster. Why they’d probably drop things at your feet out of pity.”
Belle giggled as he sat beside her on the settee. A book and tea tray had appeared on the table at their side, and she took the hint. He’d never admit that he enjoyed her reading to him, but then again she supposed he’d never admit to a great many things. He’d grumble when she came in to dust his tower workroom, or complain she was being too nosy on the days she asked him about his collection while he spun, but he was lonely. He needed someone. And she quite liked his company. He was layered, and she found peeling his layers back fascinating. She turned to pour them each a cup of tea, using the chipped cup he favored.
“You’re not a monster.” Belle chided gently, and she didn’t miss the way he swallowed or how her heart stuttered in her chest. He was so close that their thighs were touching, and she loved how comfortable he’d gotten around her. When she gave him his cup their fingers brushed, lingering for perhaps too long. “Besides, what else could you need, Rumple?”
Rumpelstiltskin cleared his throat, “Oh I don’t know. You never know what people could have squirreled away. Sometimes they might not even know. Besides, it would all depend on how good we make you. Perhaps we’ll get you so skilled you could steal first borns out of cribs.”
She gasped in faux excitement. “Perhaps I’ll become so skilled I could steal from The Dark One himself!”
He only gave her a glare before she laughed, almost burning her tongue on her tea. He gave her a snort, leaning over her. It was a move of intimidation, she knew, but their noses were almost touching as he glared down at her. Her cheeks flared at the close proximity. Did he not realize what he was doing to her?
“And what, pray tell, would you want from The Dark One, dearie?”
The chipped cup once again tumbled to the floor. Belle wasn’t sure what had come over her. She was only thinking of how close he was and how his eyes were a storm of emotion. She’d been wondering for weeks how it’d feel to kiss him. And he was so close! She’d only needed to lean forward so slightly before their lips were brushing in a chaste kiss.
Rumpelstiltskin had gone still. Inhumanly still. Dread coiled in Belle’s gut, and she suddenly got the feeling that whatever fragile thing had been strung between them had snapped. Slowly, she willed her body to relax before beginning to pull away. Suddenly, his hands were on her arms, her own teacup dropping to the floor as he pulled her closer, his lips becoming bold. Knowing. Demanding. Belle melted into him. He tasted of tea and spice and he was so warm and rich. She felt a tingle in her belly as his lips moved against hers, showing her how to kiss properly. Just as suddenly as he’d pulled her to him, however, he was pulling away from her.
Belle blinked, her mind reeling from the quickness of it all. Her gaze fell to Rumpelstiltskin, who was looking at her as if she didn’t exist.
“What is it, dearie?” He asked, his voice low and accent thick. “What is it you want from The Dark One?”
Belle’s lips quirked in a smile. At that moment, she was fairly certain she could ask for anything. He'd give it to her. All his boasting and here The Dark One, Rumpelstiltskin himself, undone by a simple kiss. Part of her found the power intoxicating. But the part of her that wanted to feel his lips against hers again won out, and she pulled him to her in another kiss.
(( I cannot for the life of me find the post this was based on but blame @fangsartworkshop for tagging me in it and giving me this idea. ))
Gold groaned as he made his way to the office of Miss Belle French. It was the end of the working day, and already everyone else was filing out. But Miss French wanted to see him, and as he knocked on the door to her office he began to mentally prepare himself for the fact that he was just going to be fired.
“Ah! There you are, Gold.” She said.
Her smile was cheerful enough, he supposed. Her eyes just as kind as always as she ushered him into her office. It wasn’t like the other executive offices in their building. It was warm and welcoming, with books everywhere. Normally, a visit to Miss French’s office would have been the highlight of his day. It often was. They’d get lunch and go over case files or the performances of other promising employees in the lawfirm. Miss French valued his experience and often consulted him on those matters. And then there were the times where they’d simply get lost in discussions of the books she adored or antiques he was fond of. Some would say it was inappropriate, but no one would dare question Belle French or himself.
Now he was going to lose all of that. And his job. He didn’t know which was worse.
A glass of wine was in her hand, and he would have thought that odd if not for the way his mind was racing, begging, pleading for him to think of a way out of this absolute nightmare he'd gotten himself into.
He sat in the large leather chair across from his desk, something he’d done a million times in the past that had never felt more foreboding. He refused to look up at her as she heard her pour herself more wine. His mind was coming up blank. He would simply have to accept his fate.
“Do you know why I called you in to see me, Gold?”
Her voice was sweet. Almost sickeningly so. Gold sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Why had he even taken those pictures? There was no point in them. It wasn't as if anyone was meant to see them, least of all the boss he was sure he was in love with.
Hell, no use running from the truth now. “Because I accidentally sent you a dick pick…”
The air in the office became very still. The sound of pouring stopped. Something was amiss. Slowly, Gold looked up. Belle French looked as if she were confused, disappointed, and shocked all at the same time. Was she blushing? A second wine glass had appeared on the desk, with the bottle still in her hand. Vaguely, Gold realized it must have been for him.
Belle cleared her throat, setting the bottle down. Still, her voice cracked when she spoke. “Accidentally?”
