Prompt for a later chapter in Sparks: Does Ember smell/sense pregnancy and how do baby dragons respond to another pregnancy? Especially if Papa is being more obtuse than normal and Mama is just figuring out what is happening to her?
Sorry it took me so long to pick this up again, but better late than never.
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]
AO3 link
By Midwinter, the Dark Castle was warm and surprisingly snug, insulated by magic to keep out the bitter mountain winds and the sharp bite of frost. Belle hummed as she decorated the Great Hall with holly and ivy, feathery crowns of mistletoe hung from doorways and chandeliers. Rumple had even brought a tree inside again, and it stood near one of the large windows that looked out over the snow-covered grounds, awaiting the boxes of trinkets that would decorate its branches. A few of the ornaments appeared to have gone missing, and Belle suspected that Ember had taken them, attracted by glittering gold and coloured glass beads.
Rumple himself was out, away on a deal far to the east, and while Belle enjoyed accompanying him on his travels, he had insisted she stay behind this time. She hadn’t minded too much; it was likely he wanted to buy presents, and she was more than happy to be surprised on the day of the festival with what he would give her.
Belle tucked the last of the holly sprigs onto the mantelpiece, and sighed, knuckling the small of her back where a twinge caught. She had been on her feet all day, and they ached, but she had insisted on decorating the Hall by hand rather than with magic. It was an enjoyable task, but she had been up since dawn baking cookies and collecting the greenery. It was now almost suppertime, and she was desperately tired. She had not seen Ember since lunchtime, the castle suspiciously quiet, and she was dreading what she might find when she finally tracked down the little dragon. Ember had recently started catching and eating small rodents that found their way into the castle, and Belle had stepped in the eviscerated remains of more than one victim, much to her despair. Rumple had said that she would soon learn to eat the things whole, but in the meantime it was a case of watching where one stepped. Being the adoptive parent of a dragon wasn’t the easiest job in the world, especially when one’s young charge had a tendency to set things on fire when she sneezed.
Ember was now around nine months old, too large to ride on Rumple’s shoulders (not that it stopped her trying to clamber up there when something had spooked her) and should be learning to fly soon. Rumple had been coaxing her to spend a little more time in the East Wing, where he had cleared out one of the towers for her. He was hoping that if she were to see the outside world from high up, she would start trying to flap her wings, but so far Ember had flatly refused to go any higher than the door outside their bedroom.
Turning on her toes, Belle called to the little dragon, but there was no response. Frowning, she walked out of the Hall and down to the kitchens, wincing a little on her sore feet. Ember was not curled by the stove, another favourite place of hers, and so Belle sighed and made her way wearily up the stairs, heading for the library. It was empty too, and Belle sank onto one of the couches with a sigh of relief. She called again, and heard a faint shriek from somewhere in the castle, but Ember did not appear, and Belle frowned, wondering what she was up to.
Since Rumple had left the castle, she had been acting strangely, sniffing suspiciously at Belle’s outstretched hand, then scampering away with a rattle of claws and swishing of her tail. Belle had initially assumed it was the changes that had been introduced, bringing the greenery into the house and installing the tree in the Hall, but when she thought about it, Ember had been skittish for a week or two, wanting to snuggle with Rumple at his spinning wheel rather than curl up at Belle’s feet as she read. When she did approach Belle, she would croon a little, blinking her amber eyes and flattening her body against the floor as though she wanted to make herself smaller. It was almost as though she thought that Belle was angry at her, when nothing could be further from the truth.
Belle tapped her foot, teeth tugging at her lower lip as she pondered Ember’s strange behaviour. She called again, more sharply, and there was another answering shriek. It was a little louder, and Belle whistled, hearing the tapping of claws against stone tiles, changing to a rattle as Ember clambered up the wooden stairs to the library. A red-scaled snout, gleaming with gold tints, poked around the corner.
“There you are!” said Belle gently. “Come here, sweetheart!”
The snout moved, revealing large golden eyes and ears laid flat against her head. Belle had seen that look before, and it usually meant that Ember had done something she knew she shouldn’t.
“Please tell me you didn’t eat all the cookies I made.”
A huff and a ring of bluish smoke indicated the negative.
“Good. Then why are you cowering? Come here.”
Ember slunk into the room, belly low to the ground, approaching Belle by an indirect, circular route that ended with her just out of reach. Belle shook her head.
“Don’t you want to be petted?” she asked. “What’s wrong?”
Ember shuffled forwards a little further, gently nuzzling Belle’s hand and then flattening herself against the floor, as though she was afraid she had overstepped her welcome. It was very strange.
Pushing to her feet, Belle walked over to the shelf that housed their small but expanding collection of books on the care of dragons. Selecting one that focused on behaviour, she slumped onto the couch again and opened it up. There had to be answers there somewhere.
x
“Nose in a book as usual, I see.”
Rumple’s voice made Belle start, and she looked up with a smile. He was grinning at her, snow speckling his hair and the shoulders of his coat, the candlelight picking out the golden flecks on his skin as he tossed a leather sack onto one of the chairs. A grating squeal made them both jump, and Ember tackled him in a blur of red and gold, tail swishing excitedly as she knocked him on his back. Rumple let out a grunt of surprise, head thumping against the floor, and Belle giggled as Ember nuzzled him over and over, crooning as she rubbed her head under his chin.
“Someone missed me, it seems,” he remarked, scratching her neck and making her back foot twitch rapidly, eyes closed in pleasure.
“She’s been acting oddly,” said Belle. “I’m glad you’re back, I wasn’t sure what to make of what I’ve been reading.”
Rumple lifted his head, eyes narrowing as he read the book title.
“Dragons: a Behavioural Study,” he said. “What does it say? Is she ill?”
“I don’t think so,” said Belle slowly, glancing down at the book again. “She’s all over you, same as ever, but she’s been acting strangely towards me. Staying out of my way, crawling on her belly whenever I call her to me… It’s almost as though she thinks I’m angry with her, as though she’s trying to show deference, but she’s never been like that before.”
“Hence the book.” He gave Ember a final scratch, pushing her off him gently and getting to his feet. “What does it say?”
He sat beside her on the couch, and Belle handed him the book. Ember crawled slowly around to Rumple’s end of the couch, where she settled against his legs, head on one knee. Rumple scratched her ears absently as his eyes scanned the page. He frowned, and read it again.
“‘Adult dragons prefer solitude and mark out their own territories, which they will defend aggressively’,” he read. “‘Males have little involvement in the lives of their young past conception, and will be chased out of the territory of any female with a clutch of eggs or a growing brood. Female dragons are devoted to their young, and are excellent mothers, but once the young dragons are grown sufficiently to enable them to care for themselves, it has been observed that the mother will often chase them away from her nest, so that she can prepare to breed again. Young dragons will try to appease their mother by submissive behaviours in order to delay the process’.”
He looked puzzled.
“Does she think we’re going to throw her out, is that it?”
“Well, she’s certainly been exhibiting the behaviours mentioned,” said Belle. “I don’t understand. Does she think we’re going to find another baby? It was spring when we got her, and she certainly isn’t full-grown.”
Rumple snapped the book shut, staring at her. His breathing seemed to have quickened a little, his eyes as wide and golden as Ember’s own.
“Not a dragon, perhaps,” he said, almost to himself. “Sweetheart, how do you feel in yourself?”
“A little tired,” admitted Belle. “Exhausted, actually. I’m sure it’s just the Midwinter preparations.”
“And - and is there anything else you’ve noticed?” he pressed. “Anything at all?”
“I - oh!” She put a hand to her mouth. “The new moon came and went, and I didn’t bleed. In all the excitement I’d forgotten!”
Rumple’s eyes had widened further, his breathing shallow. The tip of his tongue wet his lips nervously, and he patted Ember’s head, getting to his feet and striding from the room. Belle heard his feet thundering on the stairs as he went up to his workroom. There was a crashing of glass and loud swearing, and then rapid footsteps descending once more, and he burst into the library, breathing heavily and waving a tiny vial of a potion as clear as water, if far thicker.
“Here!” he said breathlessly.
“Why didn’t you just poof yourself up there and back down, if it was so urgent?” she asked, and he paused.
“I don’t know,” he said, looking stumped, and shoved the potion at her. “Spit in this.”
“Ew, Rumple…”
“Please!” he said desperately. “It’s the fastest way to tell if you’re - if we’re—”
He snapped his mouth shut, as though to say the word would curse the result. Belle stood up, reaching out to squeeze his arm with what she hoped was a reassuring smile. Inwardly her heart was thumping just as fast as his, but she took the vial from his hands, tugging out the cork stopper and putting it to her lips as she worked some saliva into her mouth. She spat as daintily as she could, and Rumple took the vial from her, re-corking it and shaking it vigorously. He held it up to the light, and the clear fluid inside turned a vibrant, sparkling purple. His lower lip trembled as his eyes met hers.
“A child,” he whispered. “A child born of true love.”
Belle felt her breath catch in her throat, tears stinging her eyes.
“Really?” she breathed. “We’re - we’re going to have a baby?”
He tucked the vial into the pocket of his coat, opening his arms so that she could hurl herself into them with a sob of joy. He held her close, kissing her hair, her forehead, her damp cheeks.
“Thank you, Belle,” he said softly. “Thank you, my love.”
“I think you had something to do with it too,” she pointed out, and felt a low chuckle rumble through him.
She pulled back a little, looking up at him, and he kissed her gently before pressing his brow to hers affectionately. Their heads turned as one towards Ember, who was curled by the end of the couch, watching them with a downcast expression.
“She must have sensed it,” said Belle. “She must think I’m going to chase her away to make room for the new little one. She must think I’m going to chase you away, too, which is why she’s been so eager to be near you all the time. Poor thing!”
“Well, let’s reassure her.”
Rumple let his arms slip from around her, and they both approached Ember slowly, stopping when she began to shuffle backwards.
“Ember darling, no one’s going to chase you away,” said Belle gently, squatting on her heels. “I love you and I love Papa. Very, very much. We’re a family, and we’re going to stay that way. And when the new baby arrives, you can help look after it.”
Ember’s ears pricked up.
“You’ll have a very special job as big sister,” added Rumple seriously. “When the baby gets big enough to walk around on its own, you can protect it from anyone that might try to harm it.”
Ember pushed up off her belly, raising her head, and edged closer.
“If anyone really threatens our baby, you may have to chase them off,” he added, making her eyes brighten further. “Or set them on fire, I don’t care which.”
“Rumple!”
“Don’t tell me you won’t be every bit as protective of our child,” he said, and Belle smiled, letting a hand drop to her still-flat belly.
“No immolation unless it’s absolutely necessary,” she said firmly, and Rumple tutted, sharing a look with Ember.
“Mama never lets us have any fun.”
