Work Text:
Rated: T
Prompt: Dark!Belle and Light!Rumpel
Summary: A confrontation between the Light Knight, Sir Rumpelstiltskin and the Dark One, Lady Belle, is hardly an uncommon occurrence, but little do the villagers know of the terms of their agreement…
Word Count: 1914
Candlelight in the Darkness
Rumpelstiltskin had been expecting the frantic knock on his cottage door ever since the first rumblings of unnatural thunder had begun at dawn. He knew that the rumblings of thunder were unnatural because there were no storm clouds around for as far as the eye could see, but the entire sky had turned the most unusual shade of pink. He was not overly concerned about the cerise sky himself - there were far more dangerous magics to be afraid of after all - but he could well understand that the rest of the village would be rather alarmed by this unceremonious display of technicolour.
The frantic knock came again and, now dressed in his shining armour ready to do battle with whatever evil entity was threatening the small village this time, Rumpelstiltskin opened the door just as his visitor began to knock again, resulting in the man falling head first into the knight’s cottage.
Rumpelstiltskin caught him before he hit the floor and propped the shaking peasant upright in the doorframe so that he could catch his breath and recover from the terrible fright he had received before telling his tale. Rumpelstiltskin waited patiently, occasionally glancing out of the door at the state of general disorder that the rest of the village had found itself in, and finally, his visitor - the elderly priest from the little church at the other end of the village next to the wheatfields - began to speak.
“Sir Rumpelstiltskin, we need your help,” he said. Rumpelstiltskin nodded; he’d already surmised as much but he let the priest continue. “It’s her, she’s back again!”
There was a pause and then the priest spoke again in a somewhat accusatory tone. “We thought you had vanquished her the last time.”
Rumpelstiltskin shook his head with a sigh.
“It’s not quite as simple as that, Father John,” he said. “The Dark One cannot simply be vanquished. The magic of the Dark One’s Curse is incredibly complex. She cannot be killed, unless her slayer wishes to become the dread beast for him or herself.”
“But she’s turning the sky pink!” Father John protested.
“Turning the sky pink is hardly cause for a death sentence,” Rumpelstiltskin pointed out.
“She’s been kidnapping newborns to roast in pies!” This interjection came from someone rushing past the cottage in a hurry towards the wheatfields, where the source of the disturbance seemed to be coming from.
Rumpelstiltskin sighed again. “She doesn’t roast them in pies…” he started to say, but he knew that it would be futile and the only way that he could pacify his neighbours and be guaranteed any peace at all would be to go out and confront the Dark Lady whom they held to be the cause of each and every one of their woes, even down to Granny Lucas’s aching bunions.
He took up his sword and helmet and left the cottage, striding down the main street of the village after the priest. Almost immediately, the general panicked demeanour of the rest of the residents began to dissipate. Sir Rumpelstiltskin the Knight was here, help was at hand, the Dark Lady would soon be sent back from whence she came and they need not fear the untold terrors of pink skies above the wheatfields much longer.
The Dark Lady was something of an enigma to Rumpelstiltskin. She had resided in the Dark Castle at the very edge of the Frontlands for as long as anyone could remember; since far before Rumpelstiltskin had come to the village as a young knight, assigned to protect the little hamlet from the darkness that came so close so often. That she was a Dark Magician was clear to see from her sparkling, silver-blue skin and unnatural eyes: twinkling and merry when she was amused but dark as slates and soulless when she was in one of her fouler moods. He had met her in both, and could say that he infinitely preferred her twinkling eyes and outrageous repartee to the times when she would hurl fireballs and smoke and his own Light Magic could barely match her dark rage. He had got to know her over time, though. As much as the townsfolk accused her of kidnap and cannibalism, she only ever took what she was owed, as more than once some desperate soul would venture across the fields and mountains to her domain in search of her most potent magical solutions to their problems - magical solutions that always came with a hefty price for those seeking the Dark Lady’s magic. It was a test, Rumpelstiltskin supposed, of just how badly one wanted something. Enough to part with a firstborn child, perhaps? So many people did not think through the consequences of their dealings with Dark Magicians, the infamous Dark Lady being the most ruthless and exacting of their kind. All magic came with a price, even the Light Magic that Rumpelstiltskin himself used. The darker and more potent the magic, the larger the price it would extract from the caster, and the larger the price the caster would extract in return. Magic was such a precious commodity, and so few had the gift… A part of him could not blame her for the severity of her transactions.
Rumpelstiltskin had reached the wheatfields by this point and he motioned for the gathered crowds of people to stay back. Ostensibly this was for their own safety, but he had a slightly less gallant motive in mind. It was always easier to deal with the Dark Lady when there wasn’t an expectant audience: she was much more amenable to making agreements with him, and the townsfolk didn’t need to know the substance of those agreements. They weren’t affected, other than by respite from magical malfeasance for a few weeks, they didn’t need to know exactly what was said.
The Dark Lady, thankfully, was in one of her playful moods as Rumpelstiltskin made his way across the field.
“Sir Rumpelstiltskin,” she said, dropping into a low curtsey.
“Lady Belle,” Rumpelstiltskin replied with a bow. “It’s a beautiful colour,” he added, indicating the pink sky above them, interspersed with the odd peal of thunder. “However I really think that the town would be grateful if you returned it to its normal blue hue.”
Belle pouted. “And there was I thinking that they would be grateful for a change of scenery.” She sighed dramatically and waved a hand lazily; the sky became blue once more and the thunder died away to be replaced with extremely enthusiastic bird song. Rumpelstiltskin raised an eyebrow, Belle returned the expression, and he decided not to push the matter.
“What brings you to our borders today, Milady?” he asked.
“I wanted to see you, of course, my brave knight in shining armour,” Belle trilled. “It gets so lonely in that Dark Castle all on my little ownsome. I was hoping you might join me for dinner.”
“I’m afraid I will have to decline that kind offer,” Rumpelstiltskin said.
It was a common interplay between them. Feeling mischievous and slightly anarchic, she would drop in on her way back from a deal in far-flung parts and decide that needling the local Light Magician would be an excellent pastime.
Rumpelstiltskin could feel the warm glow of the craft moving through his veins to his fingertips. Belle smirked; she could feel that same power, she knew where his thoughts were wending.
“Are you sure, Rumpelstiltskin?” she asked nonchalantly. “After I went to such lengths to get your attention?”
Rumpelstiltskin nodded. “You know how it is, Lady Belle.”
“Indeed I do, Sir Rumpelstiltskin.” She gave him a smile that would have been sweet had it not been so predatory, and she vanished in a cloud of inky smoke.
For a few minutes no-one moved, including Rumpelstiltskin, as everyone expected the Dark Lady to return in some kind of elaborate magical ritual and strike the hero down as soon as his back was turned. Rumpelstiltskin did not anticipate such an attack, but he still did not want to be caught off guard.
Once it became clear that Lady Belle showed no signs of returning to the wheatfields, he turned and made his way back towards the village.
“Good work!” Father John exclaimed as he approached. “You didn’t even need to draw your sword to scare her off!”
“I hardly scared her off,” Rumpelstiltskin protested, because there was no use in accepting false praise. “We came to an agreement, like we always do.”
But Father John was already running down the road assuring the rest of the villagers that they were safe again for the time being.
Rumpelstiltskin slipped down a back street to avoid being mobbed by grateful well-wishers, and he returned to his home in anticipation of a wholly magic-free afternoon.
X
It was just after nightfall when he heard the telltale shimmer of a magical appearance in the shadows that his candle cast across the floor, and Rumpelstiltskin smiled at the sound and the wispy indigo smoke that dissipated through his cottage.
“To what do I owe the pleasure, Lady Belle?” he asked as the Dark One stepped into the light and, without asking leave, sat down primly in the chair opposite the knight’s own.
“I wasn’t lying when I said that I was lonely,” Belle said, accepting the glass of wine that Rumpelstiltskin passed to her. “Will you ever come to visit me in my castle, my dearest Rumpel?”
Rumpelstiltskin shook his head. “You know the way it is, Lady Belle. I’m needed here.”
She gave a melancholy nod, and they continued to drink in a companionable silence. It must have been after their fifth or sixth encounter that the arrangement was made, although the knight would never really be able to tell where it had come from or how it had come about. Somewhat friendly enemies by day, somewhat antagonistic lovers by night. An odd couple, certainly, this relationship conducted entirely in secret, but they each knew where they stood. Rumpelstiltskin would not hesitate to use blade or Light Fire against her should she threaten his home or the people under his protection; Belle would not hesitate to unleash the full force of her incredible power against him should he threaten her own domain. Perhaps it was the graveness of these threats hanging over them that made their companionship all the sweeter. Still, it was in this way that a happy status quo was maintained. The Dark Lady lived undisturbed in her castle, and the village lived peacefully under the watch of its Light Knight.
“May I inquire why the display this morning?” Rumpelstiltskin asked presently.
Belle shrugged. “I was bored. I thought I’d have a little fun. And I really did want to have dinner with you.”
“Well, you’ve arrived just in time.” Rumpelstiltskin went over to the stove and served up two steaming bowls from the bubbling cooking pot there, and Belle sighed with happiness as he brought her dinner over.
“What would I do without you?” she mused.
Rumpelstiltskin didn’t know, as he was not quite sure what he would do without her himself.
“Let’s not think about that,” he said.
“Let’s not.”
She leaned in to press a tender kiss to his cheek as he sat back down at the table, and Rumpelstiltskin sighed softly. In the candlelight in the privacy of his small cottage, the villagers need never know of the most satisfactory agreement that he had reached with the Dark Lady.