Work Text:
At night, the tavern was busy. Many travelers, warriors, dwarves, bards came together and share a drink or two, waitresses quickly moving between tables to come to their aid, and perhaps hear a story or a song surrounded by friends and enveloped in the light of the candles lit on the table. The moonlight sang a ballad of kinship and old memories shared or forgotten, the candles shed light upon the faces of people longing for a moment of peace before resuming their journeys, be those ones of adventure or heroism, love or loss.
That particular night, the Dark One, Rumplestiltskin, entered the tavern, looking for a moment to rest his feet and recharge his energy before heading off to the royal court of Avonlea. His face was covered by the hood of a simple beige cloak, looking like one fit for a peasant instead of a renowned sorcerer such as him. Some old noble or other summoned him to perform magic and save their kingdom, their people, from the ogre war. The creatures had decided to shed their wrath upon this small kingdom of the Marchland and the situation reeked of desperation, which was perhaps a good sign, for he could request any price for such fit of magic. It would be draining, the imp knew, but memories of the ogre war that attacked their village guilted him into heading off to act upon the royals’ agitated pleas and summoning. Who knew, perhaps he could be striking a few deals along the way as well, especially in a tavern as packed as the one he stopped at.
The owners and waitresses all caught a sight of the powerful wizard and their smiles faded, being more than aware of his fearsome reputation. The owners approached him, almost frozen with fear, and offered him an empty spot in the tavern, where he could silently enjoy a few drinks, a meal and whatever else he might have been in need of. The imp couldn’t help but smile, expecting their reaction and almost relishing in the fearful respect induced within their souls. Almost every person present in the tavern had taken notice of the sorcerer’s appearance and an unsettling quiet took over them for about a minute, then they simply turned away and decided to mind their own business.
As Rumplestiltskin received his mug of ale and a portion of homemade stew, he observed every person in the tavern, from young folk, to travelers, to anyone else who had decided to spend their night in such a place. He had to admit the music coming from the bards was quite pleasing to his ears, he quite enjoyed hearing the stories they had to share through song and poetry. As he sipped from his ale and looked around, his eyes fell upon the figure of a young woman sitting alone at one of the tables, nursing a mug of ale quite similar to his, bent over a novel she seemed to be enraptured with. She had dark tresses of brown hair cascading down her back, a few strands being messily pinned at the back of her head, her eyes were of a blue that would make the oceans around the realms pale in comparison and she was wearing a simple blue dress with a white shirt underneath. Her beauty was breathtaking and he took just one moment longer to admire the woman before asking himself a few questions. What was a young girl, such as her, doing all alone in a filthy tavern, unchaperoned? Why was she by herself, reading a book in such a place? Surely there were better places to be enjoying such activities. What brought the young girl to this tavern and would she be safe to be returning to her home all on her own?
Curiosity got the better of the man and he grabbed his mug and his bowl of stew, planning on approaching the woman and sitting with her, if she so allowed it. Would it not be strange to approach her so boldly and would she not recognize and fear him? All thoughts that he might have had simply vanished as he eyed the beauty once again. Something about her intrigued the man and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it, the girl felt like she was meant to be part of the stories written in books like the one she was reading so intently. His footsteps carried him over to her table, that was right by the window, the moonlight casting her in an ethereal glow that somehow enhanced her beauty. He thought then to himself that Aphrodite must love and must be blessing this young woman.
Belle French, the young princess of Avonlea, the kingdom that was now ruptured by war battles being fought with ogres, had managed to sneak out of the palace for the night. She walked wherever her feet were able to carry her, as long as she managed to leave the suffocating atmosphere of the royal court. She was caught in an arranged marriage with a man who had the vanity of Narcissus and the intellect of a squirrel and who was more vile than he might have appeared to anyone else, no matter how handsome everyone found him. Her kingdom was on the verge of falling apart and there was barely anything she or the council could do about it, as much as she wanted to help. Ogres were creatures of unspeakable strength and wrath and they had already lost so many people to their hands. Their last resort had been to summon Rumplestiltskin, who could be the only one to help save their kingdom and their people from complete and utter destruction, if only he would answer their summoning pleas. What was worse is that she barely got through to the councilmen and to the king, her father, with her plan to summon the Dark One, and even now, she was not allowed to listen in on strategies and on news of the war front, although she was the princess. Belle simply needed room to breathe and find one moment of peace away from the intrigues and the stifling formality of the royal court, of the rules she had to follow without asking any questions. She sometimes longed to just be a normal villager or an adventurer going on thrilling journeys day in and day out, but the tavern was the closest she could get to such unattainable dreams. The woman dressed up in one of her simplest dresses to blend in with the rest of the visitors and picked out a book to get lost in during her time away from the palace. After she found her way through muddied paths and forest trees, the young woman found a seat where she could be alone with her book and a mug of ale to calm her nerves for the night.
As she delved back into her book, footsteps seemed to be carried in her direction. Still, she paid them no mind, thinking many people were wandering around the tavern and talking to one another, it was the nature of a medium such as the one she was currently in. A man clearing his throat interrupted her thoughts and she looked up a figure covered in a cloak, slightly taller than her, the hood of the cloak covering their face, holding a mug and a bowl in their hands as they stood by her table. She was curious as to who this person might be and as to why they were there. Perhaps it was one of the villagers of her kingdom? She often snuck around and visited the village to better connect with the locals and help them in any way they might need, whether they knew she was actually the princess or not, dressed up in older clothes to do a better job of blending in. Belle closed her book and placed it down on the table, focusing her attention on the stranger standing in front of her very eyes. “Hello! Might I help you with anything?” her melodious voice resounded in the tavern, her soft accent kicking in as she spoke to who she supposed was a man trying to get her attention.
The moment that the woman opened her mouth to speak, Rumplestiltskin felt as if he was struck dumb. Her voice was soft, melodious, yet quite assertive, and to say her accent was enchanting could have very well been the understatement of the century. Her voice could have calmed down a dragon on a rampage and could have mesmerized even the toughest sailor on a boat. He quickly shook his thoughts away and watched a girl, thinking of whether she would be terrified once his hood came off and he revealed himself. Then again, his simple existence seemed to have that effect on people all around the realms, yet he found himself hoping the girl would not recoil. Finally, he let his hood fall back, revealing his identity to the young woman sitting on her own, expecting to hear yelling or feel her hands pushing him away. And yet, all that he was greeted with was her eyes going a bit wider, but not in fear, just out of curiosity. She scanned him from head to toe, admired his skin, the way it glittered golden in the glow of the candles around them, but made no move to push away and did not seem revolted by his appearance. Finally, Rumplestiltskin found his voice and spoke, his tone still holding a few impish traces, yet still sounding significantly lower than the voice he often used around others. “I was simply wondering if I could join your table for a few moments, dearie” he replied as he eyed her, a gleam of curiosity sparked within his amber gaze.
Of course Belle recognized Rumplestiltskin in an instant when his hood fell back, but she could not find it within herself to be scared. Months of research on the Dark One and Rumplestiltskin himself were stored within the depths of her mind, so many stories, legends, different accounts of what was to be expected from the sorcerer, could not prepare her for their first meeting taking place in a tavern as she snuck away from her palace, yet he did not scare her. The woman was intrigued by his figure and she found the man to not be as ugly as everyone mentioned, rather…interesting to gaze at. Green-gold skin from head to toe, the golden tones sparkling in the candlelight, black clawed fingernails and long, gentle fingers, amber-coloured eyes, he seemed to be an unusual character one might find in an adventure novel or the subject of an oil painting. The woman did not wish to reveal her real identity or the fact that she knew who he truly was, or that he was summoned by her court to help them in their mission of saving their kingdom, but she gathered a conversation would not hurt either of them.
“Please, take a seat. Join me” the young woman offered, pointing at the seat across from her. She moved her curls over her left shoulder and fidgeted with one strand of hair as the man sat with her at the table, two almost empty mugs of ale now occupying the space. She could feel everyone turning their heads to stare for a moment, perhaps wondering what a vile sorcerer could possibly be doing sitting with a young, solitaire beauty, but the man shot them all a look that said it was better if they simply left them to their own devices and minded their own drinks and songs.
“What is a young woman like you doing alone in a filthy tavern of all places?” the sorcerer asked as he eyed her curiously. He could tell there was something within her, a spark that could usually only be found in an adventurer and a longing for something, although he could not tell what it was she might desire. Fire was coursing through her veins and there was wisdom beyond bounds that could be found in the young woman, he had not been so intrigued by a mere mortal in years, nay, centuries, and still he did not even know her name.
“Trying to escape for a little while, I suppose. Trying to find…some semblance of peace and gather my thoughts. I felt suffocated” was the only way she knew how to reply to such a question. There was no particular reason as to why she stayed in the tavern, there were many things that have led to her feeling too tense to remain at home for one more second. Being constantly watched by the servants, guards and by her own father, the war looming on their doorstep, threatening to destroy them at any moment, her fiancé that could not be more of a violent brute and an arse if he tried…too many things to count, yet too much to explain, it weighed heavily on her. She simply needed to run and that she did, ending up around adventurers and bards, with a mug of ale and a book, speaking to none other than the Dark One. Still, she could not reveal too much, since she did not want to know she was one of the people he was on the way to striking a deal with. “What brings you here? To this place, to my table?” she inquired as she rearranged her skirts underneath the table, fixing him with a calm, calculated, yet curious gaze.
The sorcerer found himself intrigued by the young beauty in front of him. Usually, people trembled at the sight of him and looked as if Medusa herself froze them to the spot, yet she was simply watching him from head to toe with nothing other than curiosity. A random stranger walking to her table, offering to sit with her, was indeed a bit of a bizarre occurrence, so she had all the right reasons to be curious, but no fear meant she was either too brave for her own good or too foolish. “Simply traveling the realms, dearie, stopping here and there for a deal or two. The tavern is a short stop on the way where I can rest myself and regain some energy. An old man like me needs to gather his wits for the rest of the road” Rumplestiltskin replied, a hint of sarcasm dripping in his voice and the girl could not stop herself from laughing, a crystal clear sound more melodious than any song that was heard in centuries and he wished he could have bottled to listen to for the rest of his immortal existence. The girl intrigued him, first by sitting all alone reading a novel in a lousy tavern, then showing no fear at the sight of him and now laughing at what he had to say.
“Well…I wouldn’t know exactly how old you are, although you seem to me to be more…experienced in matters of life instead of old” the young woman directed her words to him with a playful smile on her lips. She picked up her mug and finished the last sip of ale left at the bottom of it, then sat more comfortably in the rickety seat. She couldn’t say for certain whether introducing herself was the wisest idea, but she thought at least offering her first name could not possibly hurt anyone. There were plenty of young women named Belle around the realms, surely there would not be any way for him to discover her real identity just yet. With a delicate move, she offered forth her hand to him, her smile brightening as he so gently grabbed her fingers into his. “My name is Belle. It is nice to make your acquaintance”
Rumplestiltskin could not possibly be surprised further, and yet there he stood, staring the girl down when her hand struck out to shake his and she gave voice to her name. Belle. Of course that was the name given to her by her family, a name fitting for a beauty such as her. He graciously took her hand in his and shook it, offering a kind smile in return. He silently asked the waitress to come grab their empty mugs and bring them some refills and the plump woman hurriedly took them away, eyeing the leather-clad man suspiciously and watching the girl with a look full of worry, concern. All Belle did was smile and offer a curt thank you, then turned her attention around to the sorcerer in front of her. “Belle. A lovely name, I must say” Rumple spoke, his voice lowering in tone.
“I suppose you will not be offering a name in return, then?” Belle spoke, a little amused by his occasional dramatic mannerism, yet moreso intrigued by the change in his voice and the pure kindness displayed in the smiles and looks he offered her so freely. Nobody had ever described Rumplestiltskin as kind or even close to being polite or diplomatic and yet there he sat, in front of her very eyes, acting with courtesy and gentleness in the presence of a woman whom he had never seen before in his life.
“Now, dearie…names have power. And we have not had dealings of any sort. Tonight, I will not be offering my name, but you are welcome to keep our conversation going, if you so desire. You are also free to leave my company at any time, of course, I do not wish to keep you from anything you might be doing” Rumplestiltskin chose to answer, calculating how much or how little he would reveal to the innocent and weirdly brave woman who chose to keep her ground and remain at the same table he occupied. Did she truly not know who he was? Was she not aware of his identity or his reputation around the kingdoms and villages, how it was said he dealt cruel cards to those foolish enough to contact him? And yet Belle hadn’t run away screaming for her life, she simply grabbed her new mug of ale and watched him attentively, almost as if she was attempting to unravel the secret of his past and what made him tick. The man had to admire her bravado and the way she held her ground and did not allow for anything to affect her night.
“Hmm…I suppose I understand” she mused, staring into her mug, before carefully placing it back on the wooden table. “Although, I must say, a man like you does not seem to be one to stop by taverns for a place to rest. You seem to have better possibilities aligned than such a dreary place” the young woman voiced her thoughts out loud. Would he be offended? Would he be suspicious of her saying such things, as if she could see who he truly is? Her heart lightened when he let out an involuntary laugh, a real one, at what she had to say of his choice of a resting place.
“Well, given how smart you are, you noticed right. But even a man like me needs to get lost in the crowd once in a while, needs to become less…visible” Rumplestiltskin offered, putting an emphasis on the word ‘visible’, as if he could see right through her. But of course, he couldn’t know of her real identity, otherwise, open as he usually was, he would have said something. Instead, he continued to sit with her at the same table and engage in a normal conversation and show that he meant her no harm. While everyone discussed of his cruelty and unwilling to engage normally with the rest of the people living in different realms around the world, Belle was able to see a glimpse into the man Rumplestiltskin was instead of the almighty position and title he occupied as The Dark One.
“I can certainly say I understand what you mean. There are times in which I feel…almost too exposed. Analysed from every corner, constantly being watched, having people trying to find faults in me to be able to accuse me of something, anything” Belle spoke with a sad smile and downed half of the tankard of ale in front of her. “It can become exhausting. And yet it is as if those around you cannot view you as an actual person, only an idealized portrait of who you can be, an object of their desire. I suppose that is also my reason for coming to this tavern. Getting lost in the crowd, being invisible for a little while…but also feeling human and being seen as just that and reveling in the atmosphere, the stories coming from adventurers and the songs of the bards” the woman finished, her tone catching a dreamy note as she presented her thoughts to him on a silver platter. It was a dangerous game, but perhaps the young girl enjoyed letting Rumplestiltskin in on the mechanisms of her mind. In any case, he seemed to be a willing and even engaged listener, by the way his head cocked to the side slightly and his eyes did not stray from her as she spoke, even catching a curious glint in his amber gaze.
“You are a well-versed woman, Belle. You speak with such wisdom. You are definitely correct, it seems” Rumplestiltskin was finally able to say after snapping himself out of the haze that had taken over his mind. She was a most beautiful woman, that was for certain, but her wisdom had left him speechless and his heart missing a beat, she turned out to be a most fascinating individual. The two got lost for a moment in each other’s gazes, the woman itching to get just a little closer to her table companion and decipher the mystery that was the Dark One. Her eyes strayed from his to take a look at the clock residing on one of the tavern’s walls and she let out a small gasp, her gaze widening as she noticed the time. She finished her last sip of ale and hurriedly stood up, placing the hood of her cloak back on her head and gathering her skirts and her book.
“I apologize, sir. You have been a most welcomed companion, but I am afraid I must return home at once. My father…he does not really know that I am here and I must get home soon so my disappearance is not discovered” Belle spoke and hurried out of the tavern, leaving two gold coins as payment for the drinks they have savoured in their time together.
The sorcerer, surprised by the sudden change and by her scurrying to get out of the tavern, raised a brow as he watched her. He had his suspicions that the woman had sneaked out, but it only intrigued him more to see everything unfold so quickly. He stood up to go after her, only to notice one of her shoes had fallen as she made her way out, a heeled black shoe made of fine materials and leather. They looked nothing like what a simple peasant girl would be wearing and more like the shoes of a woman coming from a noble background, which only served to intrigue him more. Usually, the noblewomen he had met were quite arrogant and wished for many possessions and would not lower their noses to even face lower-class people, much less step in a filthy tavern, and yet here was Belle, spending her time in the corner of one, drinking ale with everyone else, reading, staying hidden and engaging in conversation with someone so monstrous, other people would not spend another second standing next to. A most intriguing woman indeed, he thought before rushing outside to return the shoe to its wearer. Luckily, Belle was still outside, taking her other shoe off to be able to return without any trouble, other than perhaps muddied up socks and stockings.
He cleared his throat loudly from behind her, making her gasp and turn around, only to once again face her companion, clutching her shoe. The woman only chuckled as she watched him clutch her missing shoe in his two clawed hands. “Sneaking out, are we?” he joked and she could only bashfully nod as she stood in front of him, ready to run through mud without any shoe just for her adventures to not be put to a stop.
“It is the only way for me to enjoy a taste of what freedom might be” was the only way in which she could answer without giving away too much. She felt utterly trapped in her castle, having to play the role of the perfect princess and perfect betrothed and, with a war right on their doorstep, she felt lost and suffocated. Her evenings of sneaking out were the only moments in which she could simply live and be a normal person amongst other people that were building their own paths in life. Rumplestiltskin nodded, not prying any longer, and he gestured at the shoe in his hands, her missing pair.
“May I?” he asked, his voice taking on such a soft tone, trying to act with gentlemanly conduct in front of a lady such as Belle. The young girl nodded, a soft blush creeping up her cheeks, and placed the shoe she already had back on. Rumplestiltskin knelt in front of her and lifted her foot, before sliding on the missing shoe, like a prince would with his beloved. “A perfect fit” Belle mumbled with a chuckle and he could only bring himself to offer a smile as he stood back up on his feet. “Thank you, sir, for bringing my shoe back” she spoke and kissed his cheek, before running into the woods, back to her castle, hoping her nocturnal outings would not be unveiled any time soon.
“Rumplestiltskin…my name is Rumplestiltskin” the sorcerer spoke, but too late, for the girl was already gone, out of his sight, her form concealed by the trees in the forest. She was like a mirage, like a nymph that had come to bless him, and he would not soon forget the girl who offered her time and her seat to him so easily and so kindly. All he could hope for was that fate would be kind enough to cross their paths once again, in the near future, if only so he could admire her beauty and her intellect for one more minute.
Funny how destiny works, isn't it?