Archive of Our Own ^beta

She was tired.

Tired of running, tired of hiding, tired of always being on guard...tired of being tired. A deep weariness had settled into the very marrow of her bones, fusing with her soul and becoming part of her very essence.

She wasn't princess Belle of Avonlea any longer, she was a peasant. Nothing important to anybody except the soldiers who chased her and her greedy father.

She was free.

~X~

In retrospect, she should've known that her father was up to no good. But he'd requested her presence at his court and greeted her with such a jubilant smile that she'd walked right in. She'd been a fool.

Sir Gaston was one of the most esteemed knights in this land or the next. The very utterance of his name was met with overwhelming respect and tangible jealousy. Sir Gaston was the bravest of the brave, more skilled than any known swordsman in any realm.

Sir Gaston was a pig. A cheating, arrogant pig who relied more on his charm and sword than his wit. He had a trail of lovers in every village, and an even longer trail of broken hearts.

He was everything Belle loathed in a man.

But when she had joined her father that night, Sir Gaston had been sitting at the chair to his right, the chair that had been abandoned since her mother died.

That should've been her first sign.

Like a fool, she'd sat across from them, exchanging polite smiles.

Her father had clearly been happy, rambling on and on about Sir Gaston's many achievements and medals until the knight had raised a hand to stop him. "Please, Lord Maurice, you're embarrassing me."

Maurice boomed a thunderous laugh, slapping a hand over Sir Gaston's back. "And so humble, too."

Belle dipped her head in a slight nod, attempting to sound interested in what was being said, even as her heart raced. She had a sinking suspicion about what this impromptu meeting was about, one that left her heart throbbing and breathing a tad shaky.

She took a sip of tea to cover it up.

"Belle, I've no doubt that you're wondering why I summoned you today." Maurice's excitement was palpable, charging the air around them like lightning might. Oh gods...no. "I've some very exciting news," please no... "You're to be engaged! To none other than Sir Gaston."

Belle felt her heart drop somewhere around her toes, her breath leaving her body in a harsh whoosh of air.

Sir Gaston cleared his throat and raised a cocky eyebrow. "She doesn't seem overly pleased, Lord Maurice."

At that, her father chuckled. "Of course she is, Gaston. Why, you've struck her speechless! In fact, I'd wager-"

Belle found her voice. "Father, Sir Gaston... I-I couldn't possibly accept... I..."

Please don't make me. Not to him.

Gaston stood and crossed the table to where she sat, slinging a heavy arm over her shoulders. "Sure you can, lovely. Just say yes."

His blue eyes pierced her, making her want to shiver. And not in the good way.

"It's just so sudden..." Belle stated slowly, hating how her voice shook. She needed to be strong.

Her father grinned, sitting back in his chair and looking supremely satisfied. "Oh Belle, we've had this planned for months."

~X~

She had to quit walking. Her legs burned like fire and her throat was parched, she had to quit.

It was night time, meaning she could rest for a bit. Just a few moments and then-

No! If you stop they'll find you! Keep going.

She stumbled on shaking legs, making it a few more feet before her knees buckled and she fell into the snow.

The cold seeped through her thin garments, soaking into her skin. Not that she noticed.

She'd stopped feeling the chill hours ago.

Belle tried to stand, but her legs wouldn't move. This couldn't be happening. Not now.

She needed to move!

Slowly, she pushed herself up, crawling through the snow.

Her arms trembled and rocks cut her numb palms, but she was moving. That was already better than how she'd been managing moments ago.

Once she made it to a tree, she used its sturdiness to pull herself into an upright position. Her legs wobbled in protest at her weight, but she bit her cheek and pushed through.

There was no other option.

This time she made it several yards until she fell, unfortunately not as lucky as the first time. Hidden under the rising snow was a flat rock that she banged her head against, vision blurring over instantly.

No! Get up!

It was no use. She was done. At least with her dead, Gaston and her father couldn't harm her. Besides, she was warm now.

Very warm. It felt nice.

The very last thing she was a beautiful snow flake, falling from the sky as a little figure stepped into the clearing.

~X~

"Gaston! You frightened me!"

He smiled, putting an arm up and trapping her between it and a wall. "My apologies, Belle. That was not my intention."

His words were slurred, his breath reeking of alcohol. "You're drunk." It wasn't a question.

"Smart girl. Smart, useless girl. 'S too bad you read so much. Some wife."

Belle tried to move, but his other arm trapped her against him. She could feel the heat of his body trapped against her, making her choke. "G-Gaston. You're hurting me."

"'M I? Thas a shame. Better toughen up, bookworm."

Belle tried to pull free from his grip but her clutched her arm harder, his fingers digging into her skin painfully. "Gaston-"

"You're to be my wife." He cut in, pressing himself against her. "Entertain me, wife."

His breath was hot against her neck, his bruising grip not loosening in the slightest.

"Stop! Gaston, stop!"

He laughed darkly, pressing himself harder against her. "You think that'll stop me," one arm crept down her bodice, tugging roughly at the laces. "You think this is the first time I've done this?"

"Papa!" Belle screamed, only to have him slap her.

"Shut up! You don't speak, got it? Say one word..." His hand curled around her throat, eyes flashing darkly.

A tear slipped out the corner of her eye, but she stayed silent.

~X~

"Don't poke her, Bae! She's not an animal."

Belle's nose wrinkled as her eyes fluttered open, a soft groan escaping her lips.

Where was she?

"I-It's alright, miss. You're alright." A soft voice stuttered, offering her another cloak.

She was in a home. With strangers. Apparently, she couldn't even die properly.

Belle tried to spring up, only to have her knees give out and send her crashing back down to the floor.

"Miss!" Instantly the stranger was at her side, a calloused palm on her shoulder. He was touching her. She yanked back from his arms and pushed herself into a corner, shaking.

"Please, just let me go. I meant no harm, please. I won't bother you again." She barely recognized her own voice, cracked with fear and desperation.

Slowly the stranger lowered himself, grunting softly in pain. Belle hadn't noticed the makeshift cane he held.

"Miss," his voice had changed from the previous tone. His obvious alarm had made it higher, almost shrill. Now it was deeper. Soothing, almost. "We do not wish to harm you, miss. M'boy found you outside, nearly dead. We mean you no harm."

~X~

"Papa! He...he..." She wouldn't cry. She refused to cry, even as her heart broke anew.

"I'm sure Sir Gaston meant no harm, Belle. Perhaps he had a few too many, hm? No great atrocity."

"No great atrocity? Father, he took me. Against my will. He slapped me." Belle whispered, horrified when her father merely shrugged.

"I'm sure he didn't mean to hurt you. He's just becoming a man, Belle. Give him some time to settle down. I'm sure this is only temporary." He sounded so calm, so reasonable, that Belle let out a broken sob.

"And when the mood strikes him again? What happens then, father? I just tolerate it?"

Maurice clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "You do whatever he says, Belle. Avonlea is getting quite the bit of gold from Gaston's kingdom, I'll not have you mess that up."

"And it's worth that much to you? The gold?" She didn't want to know the answer. She didn't want to here him say the words.

"It's what's best for Avonlea."

~X~

"I-It's not much, miss, but it's all we have. You're welcome to stay as long as you like."

Belle hadn't noticed the little boy standing behind the stranger who'd saved her life. His big brown eyes were both curious and timid, opting to stand behind his father instead of near her.

Not that Belle blamed him. Strangers were frightening.

"I couldn't impose," Belle replied quietly, fighting to stay awake. It wasn't just her aching body, but her mind. Everything in her needed sleep. But she couldn't.

"It's really no trouble, miss. I-I insist. At least have some food, please?"

Her stomach rumbled loudly at the idea of food, making her cheeks heat with embarrassment. Even if she tried to deny him, he'd only push harder. "I guess a bowl of soup couldn't hurt. Thank you."

He smiled widely at that, hobbling off towards his kitchen to prepare it. Surprisingly, the young boy didn't join him.

He regarded her curiously for a few moments, then offered her a tentative smile, "I'm Baelfire."

Belle tried to smile back, but judging by the little boy's frown, she was less than successful. "Hello, Baelfire."

~X~

"You thought that you would get away with it?" Gaston snarled, throwing a plant vase at her. She narrowly ducked in time, the vase shattering against the wall behind her. "You didn't think I'd find out?"

"Please, let me-"

"No!" His eyes burned like an icy fire, a darkness falling over them both. "No." He repeated.

"G-Gaston?" She whispered, backing up as he advanced on her. There was something not right, a maniacal gleam in his eyes.

He didn't say anything, just kept walking towards her until her back hit the wall, then he covered the distance between them in two easy strides. "You want a monster, bookworm? You want a villain?"

"No..."

He grabbed her throat, squeezing until she couldn't see, then he let go. "Let me show you how merciful I've been."

~X~

She hadn't meant to. Honestly.

The food had filled her long empty stomach and made her deliciously drowsy, the ground under her seeming soft.

During their dinner, Belle had learned a few tidbits of information about the people who had saved her.

Father and son. Obviously. No mother around. The father spun, a craft learned, and sold his thread. Baelfire had told her this, beaming with pride at his father.

She'd let them talk, absorbing what she could and storing it safely in the back of her mind. As they'd lost themselves in discussion, Belle had been planning.

Using the cloak he'd given her, she'd make a run for it during the night. Baelfire's father seemed like a good man - a decent one at least - and wouldn't let her leave. Especially during the night.

Not for his own sake, no. But for hers. He'd protest that it was dangerous.

As if that mattered. She'd been here for three weeks, and she was starting to get jumpy. The sound of a horse cart outside the day before had seen her in a corner, huddled in shadows.

Baelfire had raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. His father, on the other hand, had looked like he had a whole book of questions.

None of which she would've answered.

But he merely offered her a hand and asked if she was alright. She'd said that she was fine. He hadn't believed her.

Thus why she needed to go. He was getting curious and that was dangerous. No doubt if he saw the bounty offered for her return to the castle, he'd not hesitate to whack her over the head with his cane and wave down the first guard he saw.

So she'd planned and planned, silent. She would leave that night.

Unfortunately, Baelfire's father had a rather good day of profits and decided to make them a bigger meal than normal. And even more so, Belle had cleaned her plate.

Her plan was to take her cloak and run.

Instead, she'd fallen asleep.

~X~

"We...had a bit of a disagreement." Gaston said, leaning against the wall with an unapologetic frown. As if this was her fault.

Maurice nodded, "Well at least it wasn't her face. That'd be harder to explain."

Gaston hummed in agreement.

Her back was crisscross with whip marks, bruising in some areas, bleeding in others. She couldn't even walk on her own. That had been worse than her beating.

Gaston had slung her over his shoulder and carried her to the infirmary, mumbling curses under his breath the whole way.

After what seemed like years of waiting, the doctor came in. It wasn't her usual doctor, as that would raise too many questions, but a doctor nonetheless.

Belle hoped.

Or did she?

"I'm Doctor Whale, you must be Lacey." He smiled at her, very professional and very fake.

Of course they'd given her a fake name. Again, too many questions.

"That she is," Gaston answered for her, passing her a quick glare. "I found her behind an alleyway, brought her to the castle in hopes of getting the poor woman some help."

"Very gentlemanly of you," Whale murmured, taking some notes. "I'll need to keep her overnight, to run some tests."

Gaston frowned in displeasure at that. "Overnight? Can't you just stitch her up?"

Whale shook his head sadly, "Afraid not. If a stitch comes loose, there's risk of infection."

"So?"

Whale gave Gaston another fake smile. "There are many things that could happen if Lacey had an infection. It could affect her lifespan, overall health, reproductive system-"

"Wait," Maurice cut in for the first time, looking at Whale. "She might not be able to have children?"

Of course.

Gaston was next in line for throne in his kingdom. Gaston was a very powerful prince. Gaston needed a heir.

Her father needed money.

"It's a possibility. But...not if you permit me to keep her overnight. I can clean out her wounds and stitch her back up, good as new."

Maurice gave Gaston a hard look and the prince sighed. "Yeah, whatever. Just, have her ready by morning. I'm sure her family is worried sick."

~X~

It wasn't the pounding on the door that'd woken her up. It was his voice.

"Excuse me, good sir, but my betrothed has turned up missing," Gaston said, leaning against the doorway of the spinner's house.

Belle's heart started pounding in her chest, loud and painful. There was no back door. No window.

No escape.

"Has she? I'm terribly sorry, sire."

From her position, huddled in a corner, Belle could see Gaston nod. "As am I, I've been scouring villages since daybreak the morning after with hardly any success."

Hardly?

Gaston reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a slip of paper, handing it to the spinner. Belle's heart sank.

It was a picture of her and Gaston, drawn and painted by her father's personal artist. There was no way the spinner wouldn't put together the pieces now.

It was over.

~X~

"Princess, you need to wake. Now."

Belle's eyes opened in shock. What had Whale called her? "I am Lacey, d-daughter of a poor farmer-" she trailed off as Whale looked at her, unimpressed.

"You are Princess Belle, and I dare say that Sir Gaston had some part of this," Whale corrected, gesturing to her scarred back.

"I-I..." Belle stammered nervously. Had this all been a test, set up by Gaston? Was he trying to see how'd she'd do in front of people?

"Pri- Belle, I'm not going to hurt you," Whale assured, raising his palms in a surrendering gesture. Unlike Gaston, his eyes were filled with warmth.

"You're not?" Belle questioned softly, then flinched. It wasn't correct for a woman to question a male of any ranking. Gaston had made sure that she knew that.

"Cross my heart and hope to die," Whale offered her a crooked smile, before extending a hand. A little vial of purple liquid sat in his upturned palm.

"What is that?" Belle asked, shrinking back a little.

"Magic. It'll heal your back and help with the pain. I reckon it'll be easier to run if you're not in unbearable agony."

"Run?" Did she dare hope? The universe wasn't kind to Belle. Things like this didn't happen.

Whale nodded seriously, "Run. And don't look back."

~X~

Belle was still huddled in the corner, pressed against his spinning wheel, as he and Gaston talked.

What was taking so long?

Why hadn't he shouted his joy and hobbled as quickly as he could to where she hid, collecting his reward? Belle knew it was coming.

Waiting was the worst part.

"I'll say, spinner, you seem to know quite a bit about these people. Native?"

The spinner nodded, "Born and raised."

Gaston's tongue clicked and Belle saw him stretch. "The searching really got me, spinner. Might I come in? Just for a drink and some rest."

The spinner smiled politely, "Of course, sire. Bae, get his cloak and boots for him."

And while the little boy scurried to obey his father, the strangest thing happened. Quick - way quicker than a man with a cane ought to be - the spinner covered his wheel...and Belle.

"Here we are, sire. It's not much, but it's all we have." His voice sounded close and Belle held her breath.

"No it's not," Gaston said in disapproval, sighing. "Any ale?"

"Afraid not, sire. I don't touch the stuff. Tea, perhaps?"

Gaston scoffed. "Now you sound like Belle. No tea, if you please. Just a few moments longer in front of your fire."

There was a deep silence, only the crackle of the flames breaking it. After a few long minutes, Belle heard movement.

"That'll be all for me, spinner." There was a sound like metal hitting wood, a scuffle of boots, and a door closing.

Belle didn't move.

"Baelfire, why don't you go get the water?" His voice sounded oddly detached, then she heard the door creak open once again.

The blanket was pulled off of her and he offered her a hand. She took it.

Once she was standing, she looked at him. Stared, really. Because nothing that had happened in the past half hour made any sense. "Why?"

The spinner gestured to her upper arm. "There's a burn, on your arm. It has an odd shape to it," his hand hovered over her skin like he wanted to touch her. "Sir Gaston has a ring with a very similar shape."

Belle blinked. He knew.

"He hurt you?" It didn't seem to be a question, but Belle answered all the same.

"Yes."

"And you ran?"

"Yes."

He looked at her for a few moments, then opened his arms.

Belle didn't hesitate to rush into them.

It was ridiculous. So very ridiculous, she didn't even know his name, but she needed this. It had been so long - too long - since she'd been touched with nothing but comfort on the other persons mind.

She cried.

She cried a lot.

Her tears soaked through his shirt and he hugged her tighter, whispering assurances in her ears.

At some point the tears stopped and Belle simply stood in his arms, basking in his scent and warmth. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Bae, sitting at the table, a slight blush dusted over his rounded cheeks.

He didn't understand. Wouldn't understand. But Belle didn't want him to. She wanted him to stay as hopefully curious and curiously hopeful as he could, for as long as he could.

He needn't know of such horrors.

"We don't have much, miss. But you're welcome to stay, as long as you like," he leaned back and looked directly into her eyes, repeating, "For as long as you like."

"My name is Belle." Was her reply.

The spinner smiled, "Belle. It suits you. Belle, Belle," he looked deeply into her eyes, murmuring, "Belle."

Belle shivered a little, heart racing. This shiver was very different from the kind she was used to. She rather liked that.

"My name is Rumpelstiltskin, but those closest to me call me Rumple."

"Rumple," Belle said softly, her finger lightly touching his stubbled cheek. "Rumple, might I stay? A bit longer than a few weeks?"

He smiled warmly, "I already told you miss, stay as long as you like."