Chapter Nine: A Little Expedition

Rumpelstiltskin resisted the urge to go invisible and plant himself in the Great Hall through Belle’s break. He was content just sitting upstairs in his brewing room, listening as she chatted with Mrs. Potts. Even Brunhilde joined them for a bit. But once his maids were outdoors, he was determined to watch them. He’d cast a spell of Thought Transfer on his apron before tossing it to Belle. Contact with any liquid would trigger the enchantment. If everything went according to plan, Belle and Mrs. Potts would wash and hang the apron together, and then the image of what Mrs. Potts saw in the Mirror of Souls would be revealed to Belle. In eager anticipation, he snapped himself outdoors and perched himself on the branch of a tree.

“The fire’s always lit, so you never have to worry about that,” Mrs. Potts told Belle. “And the washbasins fill and empty by magic. You’d think with everything he can do, he wouldn’t bother keeping servants.”

He snapped his fingers, and a pile of laundry appeared.

“Oh, that reminds me!” said Mrs. Potts. “I should have warned you before. He eavesdrops on our conversations.”

Belle looked around in every direction but up. “Do you suppose he’s listening right now?”

“Probably, but you’ll never catch him at it. He goes invisible. Cogsworth says we should assume that he can hear everything. Personally, I think that’s going too far. He can’t be listening every minute. Sometimes he’s spinning, and sometimes he’s brewing, and sometimes he goes away. Cogsworth’s very careful, though. Every time he speaks, he keeps it short and to the point. Not me. I couldn’t very well button my lip all day long with my son running around, could I?”

“I’ll rather miss that boy’s chatter,” thought Rumpelstiltskin. Chip wasn’t Bae, but the sound of a child’s voice sometimes soothed him.

“Perhaps he’s lonely,” said Belle.

Rumpelstiltskin’s Dark heart melted a little. “More than you know,” he whispered.

“You may be right about that, love,” said Mrs. Potts. “Listening to other people’s conversations is probably the closest human contact he can hope for.”

Belle gasped. “You just said he can hear us. Aren’t you afraid?”

Mrs. Potts shook her head. “He doesn’t punish for insults. He just laughs ‘em off. Chances are, he agrees. I don’t think he likes himself any more than anyone else does. But lying and stealing? That’ll get his goat.”

“A woman sharp of mind,” thought Rumpelstiltskin. Mrs. Potts was finishing off her increment of the prophecy quite admirably.

Belle dunked his brewing apron into the washbasin and began to scrub.

“So you do know how to do laundry!” said Mrs. Potts. “I didn’t expect that from a princess!”

“I’m not so high and mighty. My father’s kingdom is really quite small. And my mother made sure I learned to do ordinary housework as part of my education. She didn’t want me feeling like I was above the maids.”

Rumpelstiltskin chuckled. It was just like Colette to find ways to keep her daughter humble. Of course, she probably also foresaw that Maurice would mismanage somehow. She wanted Belle prepared to make her way in the world.

Mrs. Potts clucked approvingly. “You’ll be easy to train then.”

“Your deal doesn’t depend on her cleaning abilities, Mrs. Potts,” said Rumpelstiltskin quietly. “Just keep lifting her spirits. And please don’t tell her your release depends on it. I don’t want her pressured.”

The “please” worked, as it always did with Mrs. Potts. She said nothing more about it and helped Belle wring out the apron. As soon as each of them had a hand on it, Rumpelstiltskin leaned forward. This was the moment he’d been waiting for.

Staring at each other, the two maids hung it on the clothesline.  

“Attentive,” he thought. Most people didn’t notice when they were under the effect of a Thought Transfer. They just took for granted that whatever notions passed through their minds originated with them and could not be shared.

Belle spoke first. “Did you just see Rumpelstiltskin?”

“I wasn’t sure it was him.”

“It had to be. He wasn’t always. . . like he is now. He was a man once. I read about him in a history book.”

Mrs. Potts shrugged. She picked up a shirt from the laundry pile and began scrubbing it. Belle picked up another one and joined her. “Well, I can’t say I’m much of a reader, and history puts me right to sleep, but I have seen that face before, and I can tell you exactly when and where. It was just this morning. The master gave me a magic mirror to bring to Cogsworth. That was unusual in itself. I don’t often handle magical objects.”

“You might have been handling them all along without knowing it.”

“Well, that’s true, I s’pose, but this time, he made sure I knew. Remember how he insists on keeping the mirrors covered all the time? I got a peek under the cover of this one, and that couldn’t have been an accident. Looking right back at me was that face. His face. But he was just sitting there at the table, same as always – green, scaly, ‘n all.”

“It was the Mirror of Souls!” exclaimed Belle. “That means it’s real. The mirror always shows the truth!”

“Not exactly,” murmured Rumpelstiltskin. “It shows the truth to anyone whose vision is clear enough to perceive it. And you two just passed the test.”

He could have soared around the castle, but he controlled himself. So far, he’d established that the old spinner of the past was still his essence, however deeply he might be buried. What’s more, Belle still believed in him, even after the cursed monster forced her to spend the night in a dungeon. But could she reconcile his two sides? He certainly hadn’t done a good job of it.  

“It’s time to move on to a bigger test,” he thought. “But what?”

The answer came in the shape of an arrow whizzing through the air. Neither Belle nor Mrs. Potts took notice of it. They were too busy with the washing.

“If he has the Mirror, then my other things must be here, too,” said Belle. “I sent along a dress that’s much more practical than this one. I wonder if he’ll ever let me have it.”

“You need it. That’s for sure.”

The next arrow lodged itself in one of the trees holding up the clothesline.

“Oh, Chip,” moaned Mrs. Potts. “Don’t start up again. You were just set free!”

“Chip can shoot arrows?” asked Belle.

“I don’t know, but I don’t want to find out the hard way.”

“So go find him and send him home! I’ll finish up here.”

Mrs. Potts dried her hands on her apron and gave Belle a peck on the cheek. “Thank you, love. You’re a life saver.” She headed off in the direction the arrow had just come from.

Rumpelstiltskin giggled. What a wild goose chase this was going to be! As if eight-year-old Chip could suddenly acquire the skill of a master archer! Those arrows could only belong to one person. Nobody else in the realm had such true aim.

“And whatever you’ve come here for, Robin Hood, you’d better be prepared to pay an elaborate price.”

He transported himself back to the castle. Robin burst in soon afterward. He was in a full-blown panic, a stark contrast to his usual aplomb. “A witch has hexed Marian!” he cried. “I need magic.”

Rumpelstiltskin could undo the work of any witch in the realm, but some were more troublesome than others. It was well known that Robin and his band were part of the resistance against Regina. “Was it the Evil Queen?” he asked.

“No, we’ve managed to steer clear of her. But you know that gingerbread house?”

“You let your wife eat from that? Are you mad?”

“She was hungry,” Robin mumbled, as though that were a reasonable excuse.

Rumpelstiltskin scowled. “As little regard as you have for the concept of ownership, I would have thought you’d at least show some caution around Candace. Don’t you know her reputation?”

“Springing Marian from her trap was easy.”

“Of course, it was. Candace is blind, and you’re Robin Hood. But she learned from me. Any escape sets off a worse curse. How is Marian?”

“I’m afraid she may be dying.” Robin’s eyes welled with tears.

“Where is she now?”

“With Friar Tuck.”

“I see.” Rumpelstiltskin opened his palm and conjured the Wand of Healing. “This wand can cure all magical ailments, but I’m not letting it out of my possession unless you leave me some equally valuable collateral. Your bow will do. The charm was mine originally anyway.”

Without flinching, Robin proffered the prized tool of his trade. “Anything to save her. She’s the light of my life.”

“Not yet,” said Rumpelstiltskin, holding up his hand. “The bow is the collateral, but we must also discuss price. If you want your Light back, you’ll help me earn mine. I’ll freeze Time for Marian. She won’t get any worse till you reach her with the wand. But meanwhile, I need you to break into my castle tonight. Do what you do best. I’ll have to capture you, even draw blood, but – ”

“But it’s all part of some scheme to impress the young lady I saw outside. Believe me, mate, I understand.”

Leave it to Robin Hood to reduce everything to romance. “You understand nothing,” snapped Rumpelstiltskin. “And we are not mates.”

“Have it your way,” said Robin. “I still agree to your terms.” He extended his hand.

Rumpelstiltskin shook it. “Make your move when it’s dark.”

“I usually do.”

Robin left to hide in wait in the woods. “Cogsworth!” called Rumpelstiltskin, levitating the clock to the table and giving its occupant a partial revival. “Freeze time in Friar Tuck’s house. It should not resume until Robin Hood returns to Sherwood Forest with the Wand of Healing.” The clock’s hands wound forward and back.

Next, Rumpelstiltskin transported Mrs. Potts back into the castle. She was panting so hard, she must have covered every inch of his grounds. But she didn’t mention Chip, so he didn’t either.

“Thank you for your work with Belle, today,” he said.

Unused to receiving a “thank you” from him, Mrs. Potts looked like she might keel over. But before she could say a word, he turned her back into a teapot and gave Cogsworth another command. “When Belle is done with my laundry, it shall be dusk here.”

“As you wish, sir.”

That would be enough time for her to eat her own dinner and serve his. Then it was back to her dungeon cell, and the next test would begin. 

The plan went off swimmingly. Belle was unfazed by the Time Shifts and served his dinner without breaking a single dish. But once she was back in the dungeon, she was crying for home all over again. And not just home this time. She was worried about Mrs. Potts and Chip. She didn’t know that Chip was alive and well back in the village, and she feared that her first day of friendship with Mrs. Potts could easily be their last.

“How much more of this can I take?” grumbled Rumpelstiltskin. Her tears were weakening his Dark Side before they’d even started the test. He had to put a stop to it somehow. No head starts.

He walked into her cell without knocking. “When you so eagerly agreed to work for me,” he began, “I assumed you wouldn’t miss your family quite s’much.”

She rose to her feet. “I made my sacrifice for them. Of course, I miss them. . . you beast!”

He almost laughed. She believed Mrs. Potts. She wasn’t afraid to insult him!

“Yes, yes, of course, but the crying must stop. I mean, night after night! It’s making it very hard for me to spin! I do my best thinking then.”

She looked at him, confused. Well, how could she know what his spinning really achieved? He didn’t always understand it himself. But if she was going to cry this hard, she’d better have her pillow or he’d miss out on preserving all those blessed tears.

“Here,” he said, conjuring it. “Perhaps this’ll help?”

“For me?” she asked suspiciously, still perceiving herself as a prisoner. She didn’t expect gifts and comforts.

“Not quite so beastly now, am I?” he said, throwing it at her.

Despite his lack of manners, she remembered hers. “Thank you. Maybe now I can get some sleep.”

“Oh, it’s not to help you sleep, dearie,” he groused, disguising the impact her “thank you” had on him. “It’s to muffle the cries so I can get back to work!”

A sudden crash in the Great Hall ended their squabble. Recognizing it was Robin, Rumpelstiltskin rushed out. Belle followed and watched the whole charade. The ragged bandit kept him on his toes – shooting arrows at him, making him disappear here and reappear there. Robin seemed to be enjoying the sport of it.

Rumpelstiltskin allowed one arrow to land right in his chest. He left it there a moment, just long enough to see Belle come running toward him, but then he pulled it out and healed the wound in an instant.

“All magic comes with a price,” he said, grabbing Robin’s arm and seizing the bow. “In your case, that’s me.”

He threw Robin into a cell within earshot of Belle’s. For tonight, though, he would do no more. He let the magic of the pillow do its work. Just as he told her, it absorbed her cries. And because she asked, it gave her a good night’s sleep, too.

She wasn’t as prompt with his tea the next morning, but he noted that Brunhilde, in broom form, had inched away from the wall and was standing upright. Though Belle might still think of herself as a prisoner, it seemed she was beginning to accept her power. Perhaps she was even using it deliberately. If she got Brunhilde to shift position, it was a sure bet she’d awakened Mrs. Potts. He sent his mind into the kitchen to listen.

“The arrow wasn’t Chip’s!” said Belle. “A robber broke in last night!”

“I know. I saw him sneaking around the woods.”

Belle lowered her voice to a whisper. “I’m going to help him escape the first chance I get.”

“Don’t! You’ll be punished!”

Belle’s response boosted Rumpelstiltskin’s hopes like a catapult. “Maybe not. You saw his face in the mirror. At bottom, he’s a man of peace. So can you help me?”

“Like this? The most I can do is keep tea warm.”

“And that’s all you will do,” said Rumpelstiltskin, turning Mrs. Potts lifeless again. “This test is for Belle alone.”

Belle emerged with the breakfast tray and served his tea from the chipped cup, even though he didn’t ask for it. He giggled with delight. Gone was the timid dropper of teacups. Now that Belle knew that her “I’m sorry” marked the cup as her talisman, she was using it purposefully to appease him.

“A fair move,” he thought, taking a tiny sip. But he did not let himself overindulge. The darkest task was still ahead, and if the test was to be real, his cruelty must be also.

“Now to deal with our prisoner,” he announced, abruptly standing up from the table. While Belle scurried to clear away his unfinished breakfast, he went into Robin’s cell.

“I trust you had a comfortable night,” he quipped. “My dungeon must seem a bed of roses compared to your forest camp.”

“Aye, these stone floors are soft and warm as a cushion,” Robin retorted sarcastically, massaging the crick in his neck.

“Well, brace yourself for Phase Two,” said Rumpelstiltskin, levitating Robin and clamping his wrists in chains. “Your blood won’t go to waste. There’s a healer in another realm – a doctor, he calls himself – who’ll want to experiment with it. You’re paying for Marian’s healing with more healing.”

“Just get it over with,” said Robin.  

Rumpelstiltskin pulled out his dagger and summoned his Dark Side, so rooted within him it was effortless. “All magic comes with a price!” he cackled. Then he slashed Robin across his chest. Blood spattered everywhere.

“When the maid comes to help you escape,” he said over Robin’s screams, “offer to take her with you.”

With his apron soaked in Robin’s blood, he went out to Belle. She was sweeping the floor in such a fury, Brunhilde was lucky she was only a broom.

“I’m going to need another apron,” he told her.

She was ready with an excuse. “They’re on the line. Drying. It’ll be some time.”

“Oh, fine, fine. Get to cleaning this one as well.” He threw it onto the table. Then he told her he was leaving. Leaving her an opening, to be precise.  

As predictable as he thought this scenario was, Belle actually found a way to surprise him. She quarreled with him first.

“All this because he tried to steal a magic wand?”

“No. Because he tried to steal from me, the Dark One. Do that, and you get skinned alive. Everyone knows that.”

“No, actually, they don’t.”

She had no idea how much she was throwing him off. Nobody ever fought the Dark One with mere words! But it was working! He had to get himself out of there so she could finish up with Robin.

He popped over to Friar Tuck’s house. Cogsworth’s Time Freeze was expertly executed, as usual. The friar was sitting stock-still at Marian’s bedside, his prayerbook open. Marian lay there ashen-faced, her cheeks distended as though the Freeze caught her mid-cough. Robin’s alarm was not unfounded. Without that wand, Maid Marian would die.

He’d told Belle he would be back later. In this instance, “later” meant only a few moments. So, with his word duly kept, he popped himself back home and sent his mind into Robin’s cell. Just as he expected, Belle was in there.

“He will kill you,” Robin told her, “unless you run away with me.”

“I can’t run,” she answered. “I made a deal to serve him. If I leave, I may survive, but my family surely won’t.”

“You’re a credit to your kingdom, Princess,” whispered Rumpelstiltskin. “And you, Robin Hood, have fulfilled your end of the deal. It’s time you got what you came for.”

He placed the wand where Robin couldn’t possibly miss it and transported himself up to his tower. From the window, he watched Robin fleeing his grounds with the wand tucked under his arm. He gave Belle a few seconds to assemble herself and then popped down to the Great Hall as though he’d just arrived home.

With a dastardly laugh, he whipped up a cache of weapons and made a big show of sharpening them. Belle, meanwhile, was putting on a show of her own. She was pretending to be taking her break and reading, but the book was The Orygynale Chronicle. He’d deliberately left it around for her. It seemed only fitting that she should learn the authentic history of Robin and his Merry Men.

After a few minutes of silence in which they purported to ignore each other, he finally dropped his whetstone. “I’ll try not to be too loud,” he said, “but I can’t promise the same courtesy from our prisoner.” And so, armed with his implements of torture, he strode off to the empty cell, only to come storming back, geared up for a confrontation.

“Belle!” he shouted. “Where is he?”

She answered him with the plain, unvarnished truth. “Gone,” she admitted. “I let him go.”

“What? He was a thief!”

“Which doesn’t give you the right to kill him.”

“It gives me every right!” he said, letting the Darkness take over. He began laying it on thick. “Oh, let me guess. You think he’s a hero, stealing from me for some noble cause. You read too many books, dearie!”

He made the Chronicle disappear right out of her lap. Then, pointing out that the wand was “missing,” he dismissed her intelligence further. “You were tricked! You foolish, gullible girl!”

He knew she’d heard that sort of thing from plenty of people, including her own father. But even now, she was proving to be the opposite – wise and skeptical. The whole world feared the Dark One, yet here she stood, brave enough to ignore his reputation and argue with him. She was even attempting to appeal to his well-concealed good side, all because she was one of those rare individuals who knew to trust a history book over common rumor.

“You can’t know what’s in a person’s heart until you truly know them,” she said.

“Oh, we’ll find out what’s in his heart, all right, when I shoot arrows through it.” He conjured Robin’s bow. “And since this is your fault, you get to come with me and watch! And as the blood drips from his carcass, it’ll be you and your rags to wipe it up!”

He snapped his fingers and dressed her in her cloak, gloves, and a pair of boots. He clapped, and a horse-drawn carriage was waiting for them at the door. He did not bother to reanimate the stable hand. The horses obeyed his magic without a driver. Other than that, the carriage was a mode of travel she was already used to.

They got in and began the hunt. She argued with him the whole way. “I think you are not as dark as you want people to believe,” she insisted. “I think that deep down, there’s love in your heart. And for something more than power.”

 “Tell me more, woman of clear vision,” he thought. But aloud, he said, “You’re right. There is something I love.” He paused for effect. “My things!”

That got her! She’d already met her broom and teapot. She must sense that any one of his “things” could be much more than it appeared.

She frowned in disgust. “You really are as dark as people say.”

“Darker, dearie. Much Darker.”

He stopped the horses, and they got out of the wagon. The Sheriff of Nottingham came riding up. Rumpelstiltskin went through the pretense of seeking information he already knew. Unfortunately, the Sheriff was a crude-minded, foul-mouthed cretin. He wasn’t going to divulge anything for free. He wanted a deal, and he named his price.

“A night with your wench.”

Rumpelstiltskin fumed. His wench? How dare ANYONE speak that way of Belle? She was a lady through and through!

This man needed a lesson in watching his language. So Rumpelstiltskin had a spot of fun bouncing his tongue around.

It didn’t take long to make the point. The moment the Sheriff got his tongue back, he was only too willing to spill everything he knew about Robin Hood. After that, they continued their “search” on foot. Belle was soon at it again, trying everything she could think of to persuade him to change his mind.

“You know, it’s still not too late to turn back,” she began.

He kept walking.

“I am not going to stand by and watch you kill a man!”

He whirled around to scold her. “Well, you’re welcome to sit if you like, but you are going to watch! That’s the whole point of our little expedition, remember? To see what your actions wrought.”

And whatever would be wrought from the act of freeing Robin Hood should be worth seeing.

They spotted Robin just when Marian, lying in the back of a wagon, was driven up to him. Rumpelstiltskin took aim. Belle pulled his arm back. He did not stop her. He even smiled, he was so pleased with her, but she was too caught up in watching Robin and Marian to notice. She rejoiced when Robin passed the wand over Marian’s body, blanketing her from head to toe with healing magnetism. When he was finished, her color was restored, and she could breathe freely again.

“You see? I’m right about him! He only wanted the wand to heal the woman he loves.”

“But he’s still a thief,” Rumpelstiltskin persisted, letting his punitive side grow strong. “He has to die.”

They quarreled some more. Her interference was working, but it was getting out of control, and this was the most decisive moment. He thrust his hand into the air and created a forcefield that pushed her backwards and down, trapping her waist-deep in the earth “There!” he shouted. “That should give you a good view.”

It had better. He was counting on her for it.

Even while stuck in the ground, Belle did not stop arguing. If anything, she was getting more heated with each second. But when Marian stood up, that changed everything.

“Look! She’s pregnant!” cried Belle.

He lowered the bow and arrow. No wonder Marian had such a severe reaction! Candace’s confectionery house was designed to lure children in. It must have given the baby inside her a feverish craving. How could Robin leave out the most salient detail? 

“Because he was scared,” Rumpelstiltskin realized. “He assumed I’d demand to keep the child for myself as payment for saving his life.”

Rumpelstiltskin’s self-loathing began to consume him, but then Belle’s voice came from behind, speaking to the side he so desperately needed her to rally. “You are not the kind of man to leave a child fatherless!”

 “Indeed I’m not,” he thought. “A parent’s duties are more essential than anyone’s. Worth abandoning a war for. Even worth enduring a life of ridicule.”

The pang of the painful memories nearly leveled him. He should have known it would. Peeling back his Dark Power meant facing all the hurt that fueled it. He remembered Milah, saying Bae would have been better off with a dead but brave father, instead of his living and doting one. Then came the memory of his own father and their chaotic life together, ending in abandonment. But his mother was the worst of all. She abandoned him in infancy.

None of this would ever go away. But perhaps now, with the peace broker of Avonlea by his side, he could face it better.

He raised the bow and arrow and took aim again. “NO!” screamed Belle.

The warning shot landed right on target. The wagon rattled, sending Robin, Marian, and their unborn child far from the Sheriff and back to a place of safety.

 “What happened?” Belle challenged.

 He affected frustration. “I missed.”

Without looking back at her, he swirled his hand in a circle to release her from her earthen trap. “Get back to the carriage,” he ordered. “I am bored of this forest.”

“You’re not going after him?”

“It’s not worth the effort.”

He stared after Robin’s white horse as it rode away. His Inner Seer was giving him a glimpse of the little boy Marian was carrying – dark-haired and agile, like Bae. Their Fates were tied somehow, thanks to his new maid.

“You spared his life!” she exclaimed.

“What? I did nothing of the sort!”

But of course, that was exactly what he had done, and she knew what she saw.

“We passed the test!” he thought. He wished he could shout it out for the whole forest to hear. How much more might they accomplish? He’d let her take on even more next time. Fiercer Darkness, not just a staged trial run.

But just when he thought the day could not possibly have gone any better, she did something he would never have dared to dream. She embraced him! She had to stand on tiptoe to do it, but that only made it all the sweeter. He was completely bowled over. If only he had prepared! He would have had Cogsworth set the clock in advance. “When Belle hugs me, stretch all of Time so it lasts forever.” As things were, he only got a few seconds to taste Heaven.

But they did have their ride home, and he intended to savor it. He slowed the horses down to a trot and sent them on a long, circuitous route. He made the Orygynale Chronicle reappear in her lap, just to show that he didn’t mean it when he said she read too many books.

“A library,” he thought. It was the perfect reward for her. A reward and a tool.

She read for the rest of the ride, taking small breaks to look at the passing scenery. But all the while, his mind was replaying that precious moment when her arms were around his neck and her head was pressed against his cheek. For every drop of happiness she gave him, he added a new book to the library. He saw no reason he should ever stop.