So there is one category that I’ve noticed has been vastly overlooked so far!
Rumbelle Fandom Lifetime Achievement Award
This award goes to someone in the fandom who has gone above and beyond normal fandom day to day, to help and make the fandom a better place. There’s different ways that can be done, being their for endless support, welcoming the fandom in, helping run fandom events etc. These are my nominations
@endangeredslug Is there a nicer, friendlier, more helpful person in this fandom? Seriously? Is there anyone who doesn’t think she deserves this award? She helped run RCIJ and now she’s helping with TEA’s. Not to mention during RCIJ she not only did her own duties as a Santa and runner, but she CHOSE to be a santa for me despite me not participating, she was also the backup santa for like 2 other people. She is a wonderful person and deserves this award.
@thestraggletag besides being our resident porn provider, she welcomes all our fresh faced newbies with The Thing and has done so since the beginning of time. She gives us great prompts and amazing fics. She is also there to help promote events in the fandom with enthusiasm. She deserves this award.
@crankynerdgirl She has run the RSS for 4 years now and has done a FAN FUCKING TASTIC job in creating an event we all love and look forward to. Having piggy backed on her coat tails I can personally admire how much time and dedication she has put into the event. Not to mention she’s an amazing writer and artist! She deseves this award.
@thedoobly-dont She hosts the Rumbelle Secret Showdown which gifts us with lots and lots of new fics and lets us experience writers we haven’t known before. I have no hand in The Showdown but I can only imagine the work that goes into it, and Doobly handles it single-handedly. What a fucking champ. She deserves this award.
Those are just some of the people deserving of this award. Who do you guys think should be nominated?
Summary: Belle might be a bit of a funny girl even by Olympian standards but even she was fairly certain the expected response for returning a small child from the Underworld was not having the world’s most sadistic looking wooden puppets flung directly at your head.
Note: This is my gift for the lovely thedoobly-dont. Her prompt was Enemies, Greek Mythology, Gambling, Library. I have to admit, the prompt really threw me for a loop at first but I really relished the challenge! I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
It’s entirely Archie’s fault and Belle will go to her grave blaming him for this unholy mess.
If Belle had any balls at all, she would dump this steaming pile of nope into Archie’s lap and just let him deal the inevitable fallout. She does not have the time or the inclination to deal with this kind of fuckery.
No matter what the extremely posh, locus eating dipshits floating around on Mount Olympus might think, she does not actually spend her days rubbing her hands together and cackling, swanning about in the massive palace even she’s still not entirely sure is real yet. She’s an extremely busy woman, even if she vastly prefers the company of pen and paper to actual human contact, and she takes certain pride is remaining hands on in the day to day grind. Unlike some who shall remain unmentioned, Belle takes her responsibilities seriously.
She has a literal shitton of things to do- seriously, Belle spent most of last night crunching the numbers while banging her head against her priceless monogamy desk and praying Zeus develops a case of the hornys overnight and does something supremely stupid, thus freeing her from having to kiss Hera’s ass.
Right now she should be preparing for the impending evening Belle wants to attend like Icarus wants to go bird-watching, primping and preening so Hera doesn’t spend the entire time waxing poetic about hearth and home or the glories of childbirth or ‘Really, Belle dear, it’s a pity you didn’t have a mother to tell you these things’ until Belle develops a case of severe alcohol poisoning out of sheer self-preservation.
That’s not even touching the reams and reams of paperwork that need sorting through because she is the sort of masochist that insists on keeping alphabetized files on the dead.
Unfortunately, Belle apparently has no balls to speak of literally or meteorically because Archie is gracing her with his fullest, tearist, emo eyes and god she hates the emo eyes mainly because she has exactly zero willpower to resist them.
He stands in front of her all contrition and wretched sweater vest and sad, sad eyes behind the outrageously huge brown glasses he has absolutely no need for down here but insists on wearing anyway over her very loud and frequent protests and goddamnit she can already feel herself going belly up.
She drags her hand through her hair, valiantly resisting yanking it out in the process and begs Arete for patience with very little hope for fulfillment, the lazy sod.
“Okay, explain this to me one more time.” Belle begins with remarkable calm for someone considering the process of dismantling a massive fuck up they desperately don’t want to deal with dismantling when she is interrupted with an outraged screech of “He kidnapped me is what happened!”
Archie stops focusing on making himself look smaller and more pitiful than any 160 pound man has any right being in favor of making extremely offended cat noises at the tiny child standing between them- aka, the Underworld’s biggest fuck up of the year 2015 that is so totally and completely Archie’s fault Belle is tempted to draft a disclosure right here and now.
Archie flaps his gigantic arms in what appears to be an attempt at explanation that fails to impress either Belle nor the plausible kidnapee. “I did not…I did not kidnap anyone! Belle, I swear…!”
“Then what do you call it?!” the boy fairly shrieks, looking about two seconds from throwing himself bodily at Archie, minuscule size be damned. He looks exquisitely angry, all snarling teeth and shaking knobby knees. His ridiculously floofy hair sticks straight up like he’s been through a particularly violent tornado and he is still gripping a clump of wilted flowers in one clenched and shaking fist. He also has absolutely no business being in the underworld.. This one should be alive and topside not screaming at the extremely busy and sleep-deprived goddess of the underworld and her distraught assistant.
“An accident?” Archie tries weakly.
Floof boy shoots him a look that so clearly says bitch please Belle is immensely impressed despite herself.
Archie flushes and turns his glare on the boy and, while Archie’s glare might be about as threatening as a livid kitten, it still signals a need to shut this shit down fast.
Belle clears her throat loudly. “Alright. We are going to sit down and talk about this like rational adults,” she informs them because she has to at least pretend she is somewhat in control here.
The boy actually looks truly appalled at Belle’s completely reasonable attempt at diplomacy. “I’m not an adult!” he shouts, his already high pitched voice going more and more wobbly. “I’m a kid. I’m ten and you took me and that’s illegal and my dad’s going to be really, really mad at you and so you’re going to go to jail and get shanked. I saw it on a documentary.”
“Oh my god,” Belle says staring. She then executes what is clearly the most sensible response - turning and walking away, wondering about the morality of drinking heavily in front of children.
One upside of Belle going into ‘fuck this shit mode’ is it immediately activates Archie’s latent mother hen instincts and he somehow manages to bully everyone into sitting down in what Belle still insists on calling her office despite great mocking and derision by every single person who dares enter. Frankly, she’s horrified actual people come to visit her at all.
“Is this like the catacombs but with books?” floof boy asks looking around curiously. He seems to be quite recovered from his meltdown earlier, harmlessly inquisitive instead of murderous. “It looks like the catacombs. They were places where they buried people a really long time ago. Hey, are there bodies in here?” He appears extremely excited at the prospect.
“Oh my god,” Belle says.
A moment later salvation comes in the form of Archie, complete with the tea he’d muttered about making as he bolted from the room earlier like the traitor he is. Belle snatches up a cup and gulps it down because it’s tea even if it’s Archie’s shitty ass weak tea and there can be no psychosis when there is tea. It just isn’t done.
There is calm and zen for exactly two minutes. Floof boy was clearly raised right, ceasing his attempts to give Belle an aneurysm upon being handed the drink and quietly settles down to sip from the hideously ugly cup Ursula had insisted on gifting her during the last Olympics, the one with “I’m not small I’m FUN sized!” cheerfully blazed across it. Belle has tried and tried and tried to do away with the thing via very quiet mercy killing to no avail.
It’s a brief reprieve though and the child finally sets his cup down, clasps his hands together in his lap, and announces, “I want to go home now,” to the room at large.
There is a reason Belle does everything within her not at all limited power to not deal with the children who cross the Acheron. Beyond the whole incredibly fucking sad factor, children are both strange and unsettling creatures prone to tears and screaming and, while Belle usually takes secret joy in screaming back at adults, childish tears have a tendency to leave her both sweaty and panicky.
Belle shoots her very best ‘fix this or you’re fucked’ face at Archie who immediately sets his drink down and gently tells the boy, “Why don’t we tell Belle what happened first and then we’ll talk about getting you home okay?”
It’s Archie’s very finest, soothing, ‘follow the light’ voice, succeeding in getting floof boy to set his lips and nod sans any traumatic tears and Belle makes a mental note to not feed Archie alive to Cerberus when this is all over.
Over the next hour the tale slowly unravels. Archie explains how apparently, through some paperwork error on his part- “You screwed up bad.”- the wrong soul had ended up being filed to be taken to the Underworld- “You screwed up like really bad!- and Charon, being a lazy fuck that he is, didn’t stop to double check upon finding the boy still breathing- “You’re not supposed to say that word in front of me, you know.” And so the boy had been taken while tending flowers outside his home- “You kidnapped me.”
“What’s your name by the way?” Belle asks because a. she’s getting tired of calling him floof boy and b. if she keeps talking maybe she won’t kill everyone involved in this fuck up in an extremely violent fashion.
“Bayden Gold,” the boy says with great dignity.
“Right,” Belle mutters when Archie risks life and limb by clearing his throat delicately. “Um, Belle maybe we should let someone know…”
“I want to go home!” Bayden sits up straighter as if daring them to disagree and Belle can’t help but notice that even pissed off and scared in a room that looks more like a death trap than a place to take tea how carefully he holds the flowers that had been taken with him, how he’s not let them go for a moment, how they seem to matter to this fiery, precocious boy so much. He’s someone meant to grow things, to nurture and love and fuss over them until they become something beautiful and Belle positively aches with it.
“Right,” Belle cuts Archie off briskly, standing up. “I’m taking him back topside.” Archie chokes and Bayden cheers and Belle resigns herself to months upon months of Fate following her around, screaming obscenities and throwing affidavits at her skull.
Xxxxx
Belle might be a bit of a funny girl even by Olympian standards but even she was fairly certain the expected response for returning a small child from the Underworld was not having the world’s most sadistic looking wooden puppets flung directly at your head.
If Belle hadn’t already been jammed into a front row seat at the great, tremendously bloody soap opera ‘As the Gods and Goddesses Fuck’ she might be slightly intimidated.
There is a great deal of extremely loud mayhem surrounding her at the current moment, lead mostly by the older, heavy women currently screaming at her, calling down some truly inspiring threats of violence upon Belle’s person.
Puppet flinging dumbass is now standing behind her, clutching the much put upon Bayden to his side with one hand while trying to hang onto an angry, blaspheming women with the other. The grim-faced man standing beside her currently jamming a strange, metal weapon in her face is just the icing on the damn cake.
She really has to hand it to floof boy though. He might have been competing for most likely to get smote by goddess of the Underworld on the trip topside out of sheer, bloody annoyance- seriously, did this kid even have an off button?- but right about now he’s going to bat for her.
“Mrs. Potts! Mrs. Potts, it’s ok, I’m ok she didn’t do anything, it isn’t her fault!” Bayden yells, trying to wiggle free. Puppet flinging dumbass isn’t having any of it, merely tightening his grip on the boy.
The screaming and general melodrama begins anew and Belle’s just about hit boiling point on her fuck-it-o-meter.
“Oh my god, enough!” she bellows, slamming her hands down on the table. Topside is giving her a headache like always, to bright and…open and she shouldn’t even be here right now.
“I’m not going to ask you again ma’am. Put your hands in the air, very slowly.” Metal weapon man repeats for what had to be the thousandth time. Even if he didn’t follow that announcement by shifting slightly and cocking his weapon, the ‘ma’aming’ already has Belle’s eyes going half-lid.
Belle turns her attention onto him, sensing a target for her rage. He’s fairly young, good-looking in a rough and tumble kind of way, is growing a rather endearing little beard on a lost bet, and has only eight months left to live. A faulty heart beats unsteadily in his chest and that more than anything has Belle pulling back from going full on Terminator in Heels on his ass.
Instead, she turns her attention on the others and briskly explains in her very best, I- Am- a- Professional- Women- and- Am- in- Fucking-Control-Here voice, “Right then. It seems this was all one big misunderstanding. We had a paperwork error at the office and Bayden here was mixed up in it. He wasn’t supposed to be taken to the Underworld for some time. Everything seems to be corrected now. I’m sorry for the confusion.”
In the silence that follows her announcement, floof boy seizes his opportunity and pipes up, “Yeah, there was a boat and a palace that looked like a lighthouse and a three headed dog too and it was so cool! I like, half died and it was awesome!”
More silence. The mortals all stare at Bayden. Belle nods, pleased that for once it’s not her gaping at floof boy. Everyone is taking the unfortunate news very well and she chooses to take that as a good omen. “Right then. I’m off. Lots to do you know?”
Turning about, she strolls out the door and if she ignores the shouting behind her and promptly poofs away regardless? Well, she’s never claimed to be a good person.
She’s in a relatively superior mood all things considered until she walks back into her home intent on getting ahead of the shitstorm this is bound to bring down on her when Archie rushes to her, panic all over his face.
“What the fuck now?” Belle snarls and Archie seizes his hair with both hands.
“I tried to stop her,” is all he gets out when, like a jack in the box from hell, Hera pops out.
“Oh, where have you been Belle? I’ve been so distressed, you cannot imagine!” Hera’s hands flutter about and she swoons dramatically about the room. “It’s so unlike you to forget a meeting, especially with me of all people, I can’t even imagine the occasion! What in the heavens happened dearest?”
“Fuck me sideways,” Belle manages.
It’s a hot fucking mess just like she predicted but she perseveres. Seven gritted out apologies to Hera, three enormously cathartic, screaming fights with Fate and her dipshit sisters by proxy, and countless increasingly violent curses later, Belle decides that the Underworld’s Biggest Fuck Up of 2015 is officially behind them.
It is therefore massively frustrating when Hermes strolls into her office one day with both a shit eating grin a memo. “Your boy has a message for you.”
“The fuck?” Belle says in lieu of greeting.
“Your boy. The kid. The one who got a two-way trip in and out without paying for the ticket?”
Belle makes an inarticulate sound and throws something extremely important at the wall.
Hermes just smiles wider. “Yup! Got it right here,”
He tosses the crinkled up notebook paper on top of her neatly stacks of sheets and plops himself on the edge of her desk because a. it irritates her and b. Hermes might be the messenger of the gods but he’s also the biggest gossip to grace any heaven or hell and he wants in on this latest dirt.
“How did the kid get your attention anyhow?’ Belle questions, stalling. “Don’t you have better things to do then deliver notes from ten year olds?’
He shrugs. “Not really. There’s not much else to do these days,”
“I despise you,” Belle informs in solemnly because Hermes might be benefiting from humanities current lack of faith but she happens to be as busy as ever. The fact that even still an old staple like him is given more respect from Mount Olympus than she just adds salt to the wound.
Belle promptly kicks him out and spends the rest of her day yelling at Archie to fetch her things, cursing ever taking over this shithole to begin with, and studiously ignoring the small, wrinkled note. It’s still sitting there the next morning, mocking her and Belle glowers at it for a full minute before ripping it open and satisfying her curiosity.
Hi Belle!
I hope you’re doing ok. I hope Archie’s ok too because you were like really mad.
I’m good. School is starting soon and I’m excited! I hope I’m in Miss Blanchard’s class. She has really short black hair. I like her a lot.
Say hi to your dog for me!
Love, Bay
“Oh my god,” Belle says staring. What the fresh hell is this? And what, exactly, is she supposed to do with it?
xxxx
Bayden,
I’m well, all things considered. You coming down here caused no small amount of trouble, I will tell you that. Archie is still alive and breathing, if that’s what you’re asking.
Belle
Also, how exactly did you know to call upon Hermes, much less get his attention?
xxxx
The next time Hermes pokes his overlarge nose in her office Belle just drops her head onto her desk and groans.
Dear Belle,
That’s good!
I googled it! Hermes is the messenger for the gods. So, I asked him to give you a message and he said yes.
My dad and I are reading Mrs Frisby and the Rats of Nihm. Have you ever read it? It’s about rats that get experimented on and become super smart. It’s really long but I think it’s cool.
Love,
Bay
“Googled? What does he mean, googled?” Archie cranes his neck around to peer at the note.
“Could be sexual?” Hermes suggests brightly.
“He’s ten, Zeus, thanks,” Belle says.
“You are not longer allowed to speak to him,” Archie orders.
xxxx
Dear Bayden,
Yes, I have read Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of Nihm. It’s a very interesting book. I admit, I quite liked the character of Justin.
Please don’t watch the Disney sequel thing I’ve heard of. It’s hideous and a complete disgrace to the book.
Belle
Ps I gave Cerberus your message. He was unimpressed.
xxxx
Dear Belle,
Awesome! I really want a three-headed dog. I don’t think Dad would like it though. He likes dogs ok but he gets nervous real easy.
Guess what, I did get put in Miss Blanchard’s class! She’s super nice. She listens to my stories about you guys. I don’t think Dad like it when I talk about what happened he gets kinda weird.
I think Mrs. Frisby’s my favorite. She’s small but that doesn’t stop her from being brave and being a hero. People think if you’re small like me you can’t be like that but they’re wrong.
I promise I won’t watch the movies. I like books better anyways. I’m trying to pick a new one right now.
Love,
Bay
xxxx
Dear Bay,
Yes, Mrs. Frisby is a very brave mouse. I’m glad she is your favorite.
If there are people trying to take advantage of your size…I might know a trick or two. Also, as you know, I have a three-headed dog at my disposal.
Have you ever read Because of Winn-Dixie? If you liked the Rat’s of Nihm, you might enjoy that story. It’s a little easier to read as well.
Belle
xxxx
Belle might guard her secret with the passion of a thousand dying suns but the main reason she enjoys an angsty story is the indulgence of a good, long sob-fest afterward.
It utterly humiliating and she’d have to kill anyone who found out but there it is. One result of her Achilles' heel she didn’t anticipate is Hermes marching into her sitting room late one night, for once not running his mouth off. Belle is reclined in her settee, nursing a headache from yet another day of ‘no Barb this isn’t hell, you’re not in hell, there’s no such thing, please stop wailing about never seeing Grandma Hazel again, she’s probably right down the street’. Archie hurries in behind him, looking even more frazzled than usual.
“I’m off the clock. Scram,” she informs both of them, clutching her glass wine protectively.
Hermes doesn’t rise to the bait, which is more worrying than anything he could possibly spout off. “You need to go topside,” he says without any preamble.
“What? Why?” Belle sits up, sloshing wine in the process.
“Your boy’s upset,” Hermes folds her arms over his chest and watches her struggle.
“What? What do you mean? Upset? What happened? Fuck.”
“Bay’s sad over the book you were both reading,” Hermes explained and Archie promptly loses his shit.
“I told you that was a mistake,” he says, pulling at her hair yet again. Seriously, he’ll be bald within the century if he keeps this up.
Archie squawks and Hermes glares and that is how the queen of the underworld is viscously bullied into dragging herself topside to sit in a tiny diner and buy sweets to offset the clearly deep emotional scarring she’s inflicted on a 10 year old boy.
“You lied to me,” Bay tells her, staring at her with the kind of moral indignation and vague judgment only children and politicians can successfully conjure at will.
“I did not,” Belle sits up straighter in booth, trying to convince herself she is not intimidated by a child’s upset. “Where the Red Fern Grows is a wonderful book. It won awards.”
“Dogs died!” Bay practically wails, slumping over in his seat, to filled with utter despair is go on. Belle curses and orders another hot coco with extra cinnamon because clearly she’s been lord of the dead for far too long.
Several slices of pie and a plate of Granny’s extra special fries later, Belle decides she’s mostly made up for Old Dan and Little Ann’s sad fate and cuts the kid off. She manages to drag Bay out of the diner into the street.
He cons her into wondering around the wooded area outside the town for awhile and takes her to see the toll bridge where she entertains him with a particularly gruesome story about man-eating trolls. Bay is enthralled and none too pleased when she tries to make her escape afterwards.
“You have to come see the library,” Bay informs her. “You have to help me pick out another book- one where dogs don’t die,”
“Oh my god,” Belle says.
A few minutes later Belle finds herself outside the most beautiful building she’s ever laid eyes on. It’s old, very old and crumbly, with darkened windows hiding the inside. Bay pulls on the large, wooden doors painted a charming shade of red and says, “Come on!”
Belle walks in reverently. It’s as aged and faded on the inside as it is on the out, character dripping off the walls. It smells like dust and old books and ancient knowledge.
The Underworld is far from the dark pit of fiery torment so many think of. It’s actually quite reminisce of New England, a long rocky coastline, where she cares for ordinary souls after their deaths. It’s cold and barren and quiet, with only the waves of the surrounding rivers and seas pounding against the shoreline. Belle loves it.
She’s always had a certain affection for aged and battered things, their lines and their cracks and their scars making them beautiful.
This charming tower of old brink is everything she is passionate about and Belle is going to start making sexual sounds if she’s not careful.
“Hey Dad,” Bayden calls but in a hushed tone suited to a library. Yes, he was clearly raised right.
“Bayden? Where have you been?” comes the answering call and the boy beams up at Belle.
“Come on, don’t be scared,” Bay says.
‘What?’ is on the tip of Belle’s tongue but Bay is already dragging her forward. “Dad! Dad, this is Belle! Remember her?
And Belle finds herself face to face once again with the puppet flinging dumbass.
He seems just as shocked to see her as she is to see him. Since there is nothing flying at her face this time, she has a moment to study him.
He’s not much taller than she is, which is rare. He’s small and slight, older, his dark hair streaked liberally with grey. Dressed neatly in a full suit and leaning on a cane, he cuts quite the distinguished figure.
Belle has a moment to think that he has the most amazing dark eyes before puppet flinging dumbass comes to life and gasps, “Get away from her Bay,” stumbling forward.
“Dad,” Bay protests as his father drags him away from Belle like she’s a specter in their midst. “It’s fine. I told you she’s my friend,”
“She tried to take you away boy,” the man barks, clutching his son to him like Belle is going to try and snatch him away again at any moment. He turns his attention on Belle, looking at like so many when they first enter the Underworld. For some reason it intently bothers her that this man does the same.
“I thought we discussed that when I brought him back,” Belle snaps, folding her arms tightly. “It was an accident. One I had no fucking part in you might know,”
“You’re not supposed to say bad words,” Bay tells her primly and his father saves him from sudden and immediate annihilation by quickly saying, “Please go to your room Bay. Please,”
Bay walks over to what seems to be an extremely shitty elevator that looks like it hasn’t passed code for at least a decade- and yes, there are the damn pupets leering at her from one of the shelves. Who keeps that kind of shit? Bay yanks on a lever and the doors slide closed over his cheerful waving.
“You live here?” Belle asks, confused. Who lives in a library?
“There’s an apartment upstairs,” puppet flinging dumbass confirms. Belle notices his hands are trembling as he grips his cane and sighs. She might have earned the nickname Bitch Queen Supreme that Mal and the rest of her enemies friends call her when they think she can’t hear but she’s not fucking cruel.
“Listen,” she starts to sigh but puppet flinging dumbass interrupts her with a rushed, “Please…please don’t hurt my boy,”
“Excuse me?”
“I…I know you’re not…like us. Not…human I saw you vanish the day Bay came home. Bay…he says he was taken somewhere else, somewhere different. I know you talk to him. I just…please don’t hurt him,”
It’s a timid and sputtering little speech and it somehow squeezes Belle’s heart. It’s almost enough to make her forget about the whole puppet fiasco.
“First off let’s get one thing straight. I’m Belle, the Goddess of the Underworld and the amount of trouble I’m gone to not to swear in front of your hell spawn should tell you how much I don’t want to hurt him.”
Or perhaps she misjudged the man because the man only swallows hard after her speech and offers her his hand. “Hello Belle. I’m Rupert Gold, Bay’s father,”
After shaking his hand in what she hopes is an acceptable manner, Belle waves it about the room. “So you…live in a library?”
Rupert nods and tabs his cane. “Yes. The apartment is free for the caregiver. I’m the only one here. We just moved to this town in the last year. My ex wife, Bay’s mother…had some gambling problems. After she left, we both needed a fresh start. Luckily our old housekeeper Mrs. Potts agreed to come with us or we’d both have starved most likely,”
It’s a fuckton of seriously personal information to take in so quickly but afterward Belle notices the little tells. He’s wearing a full suit true but it’s clearly old, slightly faded at the edges. His shoes are scuffed, well worn. He also has the tight, pinched look of someone who’s lost weight.
“Right,” Belle says. “Listen, I’d better get going. Can you give this to Bay?” She tosses him The Barrowers in paperback and turns to go.
“Wait!” Rupert limps forward quickly. “Would you like to join us for dinner? We were going to get hamburgers from Granny’s.”
Belle winces. “Yeah, about that…Bay might have eaten half the dinner just a little bit ago,”
Rupert just chuckles. “He tends to do that on a regular basis. It’s no matter,” He smiles softly at her, dark eyes twinkling.
‘Oh, shit, damn, fuck..’
xxxx
Belle,
I appreciate your coming up to see Bay on his birthday. He was so pleased you were able to make it. I also appreciate your NOT giving him the three headed dog I know he begged you for. My landlord thanks you as well.
I think we are both starting to settle in nicely by now. Bay has a little friend who has started to come over. Her name is Emma Swan and they are in the same class. It’s my understanding that young Emma pushed Bay over when he was teasing her on the playground and naturally, they became friends. They are as thick as thieves already. I am anticipating difficulties.
My roses are flourishing thank you for asking. It’s nothing compared to my garden back home but I’m pleased with my efforts so far.
Are you still planning on coming up next Sunday?
Please say hello to Archie for me and remind him we are getting coffee after the museum tour.
Yours,
Rupert
xxxx
Rupert,
Oh my god. It sounds like you have your hands full my friend. Better get ready to up your insurance premiums.
Glad to hear your garden’s coming together. I didn’t help you dig those hedges for nothing.
Hell yeah, I’m coming. No one comes between me and Mrs. Potts roast beef.
Believe you me, Archie hasn’t forgotten about your man date. He’s been prattling on about it all week.
Belle
xxxx
Dear Belle,
Hi!
Please bring your mace when you come on Saturday. I know Dad will totally be cool with it because it’s you and he thinks everything you do is awesome.
Emma is not my girlfriend, even if Mrs. Potts says she is.
Love,
Bay
xxxx
Bay,
Why exactly do you want me to bring my mace?
Also, he who protesteth to loudly…has no game.
Belle
xxxx
Belle,
Under no circumstances are you to bring a large medieval weapon on your next visit no matter what my imp of a son says. Please ignore him. He has no idea what he is talking about.
Rupert
xxxx
Dear Belle,
Ok so no mace.
But I do know what I’m talking about! Dad does think everything you do is cool. He talks about you all the time. He face gets really stupid too and he forgets what he’s doing.
You should see him before you get here when you visit! Mrs. Potts says he’s a chicken running around trying to feather his nest.
See you soon!
Love,
Bay
xxxx
Belle,
Rest assured, I am a grown man, I do not run around like a chicken!
However, I do not argue that I find you quite amazing. I hope you enjoy my company half as much as I enjoy yours.
Yours,
Rupert
xxxx
Belle,
I am picking your outfit for your next visit. No arguments. What are the chances of you finding another person who I actually like?
(Yes, I am having Hermes deliver it. Please don’t eat me.)
Archie
xxxx
Belle
This is Emma Swan and I think you and Mr. Gold should go out on a date together. It would make Bay and Mr. Gold both happy and then they can stop arguing about it. Mrs. Potts agrees with me by the way.
Also, you can bring your dog with you when you two get married.
Emma Swan
xxxx
Oh my god, how the hell are you people even figuring out how to contact me?!?!
xxxx
Because Belle is completely and utterly unable to deal with any sort of emotional development on her own, she finds herself jammed into her office with her closest enemies friends drinking vodka and attempting to formulate a battle plan in order to survive trip topside tomorrow night.
“Fuck his brains out, darling,” is Cruella’s sage advice.
“I hate you people,” Belle mutters and reaches for more booze.
“Seriously Belle, go for it. You’ve been all work and no play for forever now, you need to get out of this place and live a little,” Ursula flips her tentacles as she speaks and Belle tries very hard not to track them least she lose her already precarious balance.
“I have responsibilities,” Belle says, to a chorus of groans and general disgust.
“Responsibilities? Don’t you mean excuses?” mocks Mal.
Belle glares at the self-named Queens of Darkness- dramatic little shits is what she calls them. “They’re fucking mortals. I’m not,”
“Wow, racist,” Ursula rolls her eyes.
“I need to focus,”
“You need to get laid,” Cruella informs her.
Hours of bad booze and badder advice later Belle wakes up with a raging headache and no clear battle plan in sight.
Belle may talk a good game but she’s always known exactly what she is. Ordinary. An common deity fit to care for the many souls not spectacular enough to enter Elysium and not wicked enough to be thrown into Tartaros. And she’s been extremely fucking content for an extremely fucking long time with that, thank you very much, until two amazing people just had to burst into her life and turn it upside down, make her want to risk sticking her hand in the fire and take a real risk for the first time in forever.
So, what the fuck is she supposed to do about it exactly?
Belle decides to wing it. When was the last time anything went the way she decided it was going to go anyway?
Archie is more nervous than she is, nattering about the advantages of having a partner and fretting about what dress she should wear until Belle threatens to rip the rest of his hair for him.
When she arrives at the Gold’s apartment wearing an extremely curvy green dress that Archie finally declared worthy of this all-important evening, she discovers Archie isn’t the only idiot interfering with her love life.
Mrs. Potts whisks Bay away on some extremely important errand and before she knows it she’s alone with an equally nervous Rupert and oh god she sucks so damn bad at this, when Rupert suddenly reaches out and takes her hand.
“You look beautiful,” Rupert tells her softly.
“I look ridiculous,” Belle mutters. This dress is utterly unsuited to the humble apartment she’s standing in.
Rupert chuckles. “Alright, ridiculously beautiful then,” And then he kisses her knuckles, soft butterfly kisses that turn her knees to mush and it’s the easiest thing in the world to step into his arms and press a matching kiss to his lips.
Belle’s never been kissed like this before, firm and hard and smooth, as dizzying as ambrosia and more addicting than lotus. He kisses her like she’s precious, like she’s breakable as glass and it makes her eyes sting.
“You’re perfect,” Rupert drops his forehead to hers, breathing her in. “You’re perfect,”
“Goddess of the Underworld,” she reminds him.
“What was that you were saying about insurance?” Rupert’s eyes crinkle as she laughs and she rises on her tiptoes to land another one on his lips just as the door bursts back open.
“They’re kissing!” Bay bellows loud enough to hear down the street and Mrs. Potts plants her hands on her hips.
“Well, I declare, it’s about time. Congratulations, they both of you. At any rate, you two had better not have gotten up to anything on my counters while we were gone,”
The hard-hardest part is still coming since the fic isn’t even close to done, but so far, it was chapter 6. The whole thing was hard because it was Rumple and Belle’s first kiss, but also because of Belle and Gaston. That was a lot harder to get out than I thought it would be.
Last night I set up arranged marriages for two of my daughters. theladyofthedarkcastle you are marrying thedoobly-dont and katillac25 you are marrying onceaddict Congratulations!
