#except for this secret society of other people who paid the same price for magic. AND for his childhood best friend | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

femalechibiblogger · 4 years

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My 15 Favorite Isekai Manga

1. That Time I Got Reincarnated As A Slime

Satoru Mikami is an ordinary 37 year old corporate worker living in Tokyo. He is almost content with his monotonous life, despite the fact that he doesn't have a girlfriend. During a casual encounter with his colleague, an assailant pops out of nowhere and stabs him. While succumbing to his injuries, a mysterious voice echoes in his mind and recites a series of commands which he could not make sense of.

After regaining consciousness, Satoru discovers that he has been reincarnated as a Slime in an unfamiliar world. At the same time, he also acquires new-found skills, particularly the ability called "Predator," which allows him to devour anything and mimic its appearance and skills. He stumbles upon Veldora, a Catastrophe-level 'Storm Dragon', who was sealed for 300 years for reducing a town to ashes. Feeling sorry for him, Satoru befriends the dragon, promising to help him in destroying the seal. In return, Veldora bestows upon him the name Rimuru Tempest, to grant him divine protection.

Now free from his stale past life, Rimuru embarks on a quest to prove his worth. As he starts to get used to his current physique, word of his weird accomplishments start to spread like wildfire across the world, changing his fate completely.

2. The Scholar’s Reincarnation

A martial artist, claiming himself to be a “murderer” is defeated by a suicide attack in battle and is reborn as a first born child to a local lord. Having a fresh start, a warm family and a little sister to protect – he decides to become a better person in his new life.

3. Tensei Kizoku no Isekai Boukenroku ~Jichou wo Shiranai Kamigami no Shito~

Shiina Kazuya, our protagonist who got killed by a stranger when he tried to protect his childhood friend and little sister, reincarnated into Cain Von Silford as the third son in the world of sword and magic. Cain grew up being surrounded by Gods who doesn’t know self-esteem, the upper noble and the girls who are swayed around him. Being given so many protection from the gods, He overcame any obstacle (aka Flags) while hiding his unbelievable status. The noble path fantasy story of a young boy who sometimes wicked and clumsy.

4. They Say I Was Born A King’s Daughter

After spending most of her youth fielding the attention of countless wealthy suitors, Suhee Kim finally finds true love with a steady boyfriend named Jinsu Han. But then tragedy strikes, and Suhee is murdered in cold blood. To Suhee’s surprise, she is immediately reincarnated as a baby girl named Sanghee Kim, who just so happens to be a princess! Plus, she is fully conscious of her past life.

There’s just one problem: In this society, women are seen as totally inferior, even princesses. Appalled by the treatment of women, Sanghee is determined to change the kingdom’s patriarchal ways. Will Sanghee be able to succeed, or will she be stuck living her second life being treated as a lowly woman?

5. Parallel World Pharmacy

A young pharmacologist and researcher in Japan died from overworking, and was reincarnated in a Medieval Parallel Europe. He was reincarnated as a 10-year-old apprentice to a famous Royal Court pharmacist, had attained an inhuman skills of ability to see through disease, material creation, and material destruction. In a society in which dubious medical practice are rampant, price gouging thru the monopoly of the pharmacist guild, and good medicine aren't available to the commoners. He was recognized by the Emperor at that time and opened a Pharmacy at the corner of the town. He will wipe out the fraud that has swept the world, and deliver to the commoners a truly effective medicine that was developed using present day pharmacology. Thus the boy pharmacist will cheat by using his previous knowledge to create innovative medicines while helping the people of the parallel world, a story about living his new life to the fullest this time.

6. I Am A Child Of This House

“Pink Eyes” has always lived a relatively normal (?) life, with two exceptions: first, she has gained memories of her previous life as Seo Young, and second, she is someone’s illegitimate daughter in I Am a Child of This House Manga.

One day however, when she turns 11 years old, her prostitute mother takes her to the empire’s sole duke and claims her as his child. Although he seems to not believe her, he nevertheless buys “Pink Eyes” for 20,000 gold. With that, her new life as “Estelle” starts.

But what truly awaits her? And is she really a child of this house?

7. Daughter of the Emperor

Ariadna Lereg Ilestri Pre Agrigent. And so my life begins with this ridiculously long name, born to royalty and the center of attention — all because of one dangerous man; the veritably insane tyrant king, ruthless conqueror of ten empires, nightmare of all continents… and my father?! Will I be able to survive this maniac?

8. The Cute Little Granny Hinata-chan

Worldly knowledge and artistic refinement! Hinata-chan is on a completely different level to your average toddler. But she has a secret... that she's the reincarnation of an 88 year old grandma, with her memories intact! Enjoying green tea on the veranda, a taste for pickles, and an old-fashioned dialect! Why has she been reincarnated? A comedy full of old-wives wisdom.

9. Isekai de Mofumofu Nadenade Suru Tame ni Ganbattemasu

After various things happened, I got an ability from God and reincarnated to another world! While being watched over by my high-spec family, the super ordinary me fully enjoyed other world life. Using the ability I received from God, I had a daily life of just fluffing and petting fantasy animals. There are some shady movements too, but while being led by the nose by God, I’ll do my best at various things with my cheat-like comrades!

10. In Another World, I’m Called: The Black Healer

One day, 22-year-old Kanzaki Misuzu is suddenly transported to a strange world. Based on the pop-up screens she can access, it seems she's entered some kind of RPG as a magic user! Luckily, she can use the gaming skills she acquired as an otaku to make her way in this new world. But before she knows it, people start calling her "the Black Healer"!!

11. The Youngest Princess

The archmage who ruled over a magic kingdom. One day, she was reborn as the youngest daughter of the empire! “I’ll just play along and pretend to be a baby. ...But don’t you think you guys like me a little too much?” They won’t leave her alone. The youngest princess is tired today as well.

12. Freeter ga Jimini Isekai Teni suru

Meet Tanaka. He’s a 26-year-old freeter - a guy who makes his living on various part-time jobs. He works in warehouses, directs traffic, and generally does whatever work he can find in order to get paid. However, recently Tanaka has had a problem. He occasionally is transported into another world, usually in front of people who need help. Knowing nothing, can Tanaka add another part-time job to his repertoire?

13. The Small Sage Will Try Her Best In The Different World From Lv.1!

Kujo Yuuri, who had been playing Elysia Online, finally changed her occupation to the sage of her desire. Then, she was asked whether to go to the true Elyasia or not and selected [Yes], and somehow went to another world. Furthermore, she became a small child.

The small sage Yuuri and her companions’ love and adventure fantasy.

14. Beauty and the Beasts

As soon as she fell into the world of beast men, a leopard forcibly took her back to his home. Indeed, Bai Jingjing is at a complete and utter loss. The males in this world are all handsome beyond compare, while the women are all so horrid that even the gods shudder at their sight. As a first-rate girl from the modern world (she's even a quarter Russian), Bai Jingjing finds herself sitting at the center of a harem filled with beautiful men -- at the very peak of existence.

15. The Beast and His Pet High School Girl

On the way home from school, Kashiwagi Aki is kidnapped and finds herself in a world populated entirely by beastmen. She ends up in a pet store where the overzealous and impulsive wolfman Zinovy becomes infatuated with her and buys her on sight. Thus begins their strange and chaotic, albeit incredibly cute life.

#top list #top 15 list #favorite #manga #webtoon #isekai #fantasy manga #fantasy world #funny #cute #romance

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kelyon · 5 years

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Golden Cuffs Chapter 11: The Castle

Rumbelle Dark Castle BDSM AU

Belle goes exploring.

Read on AO3

After the cuffs had pulled Belle from the dining room, through the halls, and back down to her cell in the dungeons, they released their hold on her. The heavy wooden door shut behind her and Belle indulged in a long, deep breath. She stretched her arms and shook her hands and enjoyed the freedom of being able to move however she wanted. Autonomy was a novelty now, a treat. A gift Rumpelstiltskin could give or take away as he liked.

There was a little daylight left, the days getting shorter as winter approached. In the pink glow of sunset, Belle found the wash rag that Rumpelstiltskin had enchanted to steam forever with hot water and lavender soap.

She brought the rag up to her face, letting the warmth of it cover her. Such a marvelous thing his magic had given her. Belle thought about that as she washed her body. Since she had arrived in his castle, Rumpelstiltskin had given her much by the use of magic: the pillow he had pulled out of the air, the cup that never emptied, the waste bucket that never filled.

And the robe she pulled over her shoulders, he had presented that to her with a magical display. Belle wrapped the blue and gold silk around her. It was such a lovely thing. Even if it wasn’t magical, it still had to be costly.

But wasn’t magic the costliest thing of all? That’s what he said, that all magic comes at a price. She understood that her submission to the Dark One was the price of him saving her people from the ogres. But what was the price of everything else? Who paid for the little comforts he gave her?

When Rumpelstiltskin had pleasured her with magic, he had paid that price himself. Surely that was the reason for his exhaustion after their coupling. That had to be why he had lingered on the table with her instead of bolting away as he usually did.

It had been pleasant for her to have him close afterward. But if using magic in that way had weakened him, then how could it be worth the price?

Belle’s body felt strangely alive and awake as she thought of the specific magic he had used to make her orgasm. The magic wasn’t so different from how he used his hands or his mouth to ensure the same reaction. But when he had been on top of her--and inside her, pounding into her like a raging animal--he hadn’t been able to use his hands or his mouth. Magic had been another part of him that he could use to pleasure her. It was an extension of his body. Or perhaps an extension of his will.

Like the cuffs. Belle sat on her bench and looked at them, twisting her wrists so they caught the last glimmers of light before nightfall. The cuffs worked his will on her more than his own body did. He could control them, and her, with a just word or a wave or a nod of his head. And yet she had seen him make them out of straw. It was only magic that made them what they were, only magic and a deal that gave these upjumped stalks control over her body. What was the cost of that transformation? Who paid the price for the power they had over her?

It was dark now, and Belle could think of nothing else to do except sleep. She fluffed her pillow and lay down on the bench with her robe on and her legs spread.

Rumpelstiltskin’s order was that she touch herself every night before she slept. Tonight, after two orgasms, Belle didn’t know if she would be able to obey. Her flesh was sore and tender, too swollen and too sensitive to touch. When she brushed a finger against her pleasure spot, it sent out a shock of feeling that was too intense to be enjoyable.

But she had to obey, she told herself. He would punish her if she didn’t. He had punished her today. It hadn’t been much, but she knew he wanted to do more. Twenty hits to her backside had only been an introduction, an initiation to the world she would inhabit for the rest of her life.

What else would he do to her? Belle rested one hand over the curls between her legs and the other over her breast. He would beat her, surely. He said he would love to bruise her. It would pleasure the Dark One to fill her body with pain, to mutilate her flesh, to make her cry, make her scream and bleed and then fuck her until he came, shouting and bursting inside her.

A shiver went up her spine and Belle rubbed her breast to soothe herself. She knew that there were men who beat their wives. Society pretended that it only happened with commoners or drunken brutes, not our sort of people at all. But Belle had studied her father’s book of laws and she knew: If a wife disobeyed her husband’s word, any landowning man was permitted to correct her using whatever force he deemed right.

But Belle had never disobeyed the Dark One. He wasn’t trying to correct her misbehavior. He had intentionally set up an impossible task just as an excuse to hurt her. Because he liked it.

Did ordinary men like it? Did husbands beat their wives because they thought it was fun? Could Belle have been called upon to marry such a man? Gaston was a man of violence. It would not have surprised her to find that he was the sort to end an argument with his fists--even an argument with a woman. But Belle could not quite imagine him laying her out naked on a table and striking her bottom just for the pleasure of doing so.

Of course, Belle couldn’t really imagine Gaston taking pleasure in anything. He had never shown an interest in her, or in any activity that wasn’t fighting. What if--Belle pinched at her nipple and ran her hands over her curls--what if she offered to suck his cock? Nevermind how she would have that knowledge and still be acceptable as his wife, what if she did? Would that get his attention? Would he let her do it? He would never think of such an act on his own. Would it amaze him, to know that such a thing was possible? Would he let her teach him what she had learned from the Dark One?

Her flesh was still hot and wet but it no longer hurt to touch herself. She had to rub with more vigor than usual to feel the same effects.

What else could she tell the man she had been meant to marry? She didn’t desire Gaston, but the idea of shocking him--of educating him--was pleasant in her mind. After she had given him her mouth, perhaps she could persuade him to return the favor. It was ludicrous to think of Gaston bent over her, lapping and licking at her secret places for no other reason than to give her pleasure. Still, she imagined teaching him, encouraging him to explore and experiment, to open his mind to new possibilities. If she could learn, so could he.

The thought came unbidden, of Rumpelstiltskin looming over Gaston’s shoulder while he tried and failed to pleasure her. Belle gave out a soft chuckle as she imagined the Dark One correcting the boy’s technique, chiding Gaston and instructing him in a way he had to listen to.

What if she offered him her ass? Would Gaston listen to her as she told him what Rumpelstiltskin had done there? Would such an act interest him? Or would he be horrified to know that Belle hadn’t minded it, that she had liked doing it and wanted to try it again? Would an ordinary man want to put his cock in a woman’s filthiest place? Would looking at her bottom and grabbing her breasts from behind be enough to satisfy him?

At the thought of Gaston’s satisfaction, Belle stilled her hand. It was the oddest thing, but she didn’t want him to orgasm in this fantasy. This wasn’t about his pleasure. Even if he could be persuaded to use his mouth on her, she hated to think of her wetness on Gaston’s face. There was no need for him to carry the smell of her on his body. Nor did she ever want to smell like him--all sweat and steel and meat. She wouldn’t want him to come inside her. That would be too ordinary, too much like the relations she was supposed to have with that man. To have his seed inside her womb would be too much of a reminder that she had been meant to bear his children, to give him six or seven strapping boys like him.

The Dark One would never give her children. Belle took a breath before she began rubbing again. Even if she didn’t take her potion, they would have a hard time making a child if they kept being so creative. Did she want a child? But when had it ever mattered what she wanted? She had always known that being a wife was her duty, that being a mother was her greatest possible accomplishment. Nothing she could do before she married would ever be as valuable as the first son she gave her husband.

She would never give the Dark One a child, but she would give him pleasure. She would give him her obedience, her diligence, her humiliation. Whatever he wanted from her, body, mind or soul, she would give it to him.

What else would he do to her? What else would he want from her? What else would she be able to do for him? Belle’s body jerked suddenly and she curled up around her hand, clenching so hard it was almost painful.

She lay on her side and breathed. After a moment, she took her hand away from her secret places. Soon, surely, she would learn the answers to her questions. For now, Belle closed her eyes, and went to sleep.

****

Belle woke up to something cold trickling down onto her skin. She felt the cool wetness first, before she heard the steady sound of rain. Half asleep, she rolled away from the wall and the stream of rainwater that ran down the stone and onto her bench.

The bench was too narrow for her to roll far. Groaning, Belle sat up and opened her eyes. It was a gloomy day, gray and cold. It would have been miserable even if she hadn’t woken up with her back drenched in water.

Days ago, she had hung up her golden gown through the bars of her cell to keep it off the damp floor. Now Belle saw that the entire thing was soaked through and dripping water onto her head.

She sighed and yanked the dress away from the window. “I know I wasn’t going to wear you again anyway,” she said. “But such a fine gown still deserves a better end than this.”

Her mother’s family had worked together--her aunts and uncles and grandfather all calling in favors--to give her that dress in time for her betrothal feast. But there was nothing she could do to save it. Wadding up the ruined, precious fabric into a messy ball, Belle tossed it into the corner by her waste bucket.

She thought of Alix, the little village girl who had been so delighted to see Belle in all her finery. The child might be disappointed if she ever heard of what happened to this gown. Could she understand that Belle ruining a dress had saved her life, saved all of their lives?

It hurt to think of home, to think of all the people that had loved her and who she had loved. She would never see them again. Her father, her cousins, her friends--even the servants and villagers had been a part of her life. But they were all gone from her now. And she had no objects to tie her to them. She had nothing from home. Mama was dead and Belle didn’t even have her necklace to remember her by.

If Belle mourned the loss of anything from her old life, it was that necklace. The Dark One still had it, somewhere. He had said it was safe, after he had taken it from her. She still didn’t understand why he wanted it. Rumpelstiltskin hadn’t taken anything since then, except her virginity and her right to hold a hairbrush. What did it profit him to steal the necklace from her?

Between her thoughts and the rain, Belle knew she wouldn’t get back to sleep. So she decided to start her day. She used the bucket and washed her body, took a drink and straightened her robe. The cuffs didn’t keep her from combing her hair with her fingers, but she would have to wait for Rumpelstiltskin to come and give her a proper brushing.

She would have to wait. The back half of the bench was soaking wet, so Belle had to sit primly on the edge and try to avoid the spray. She would have to sit. And wait.

She had never waited for him before. He had always come to her, even before she had woken up. The Dark One measured her days out for her, no matter what time it truly was. Noon or dawn or the middle of the night, if he wanted her she would serve him.

But now, after last night… He had said he wouldn’t want her today. Using magic to pleasure her must have depleted him. Belle’s shoulders slumped. If Rumpelstiltskin wasn’t coming, what on earth was she supposed to do for the rest of the day?

There was nothing in the cell to entertain her. No work for her to do, not even embroidery. She couldn’t even sit comfortably, and perhaps that was the worst part. Belle had an imagination, at home she had often been accused of daydreaming during her lessons. In her bed at home or sitting in a soft chair, she easily could have spent hours imagining and exploring her own mind. But this? Perched on a corner of a bench in the middle of an endless drizzle? There was no contentment here.

Determined to act, Belle stood up. She climbed up onto the bench and looked out the windows. There was nothing in front of her but an expanse of mud and rain. The bars were much too close together for Belle to even consider squeezing through to make an escape. She could barely fit her arm through them.

And it wasn’t that she wanted to escape. Running from the Dark One was an exercise in futility and it would only irritate him. Belle wanted to honor her deal. She didn’t want to leave the castle.

But she would die of boredom if she had to stay in the cell all day. Hopping off the bench, Belle went to the door. She was too short to look through the grate and see into the hallway outside. But perhaps if she got up onto the handle, that would give her a boost and she could have a look around. The door handle was sturdy iron, more than enough to support her little weight.

Stretching one leg up so high that her foot was at the level of her waist, Belle pushed her foot on the thumbpiece. She tried to pull the rest of her body up, but she felt the lever sink down under her foot and heard the latch release.

The door swung open.

Gaping, Belle slowly lowered her foot. The door was open. The hallway was in front of her. Nothing barred the way.

“What?” she said out loud. This was a dungeon. This was a prison cell. The doors were not supposed to open.

A sudden fear took hold of her, that this was a trap, an illusion, that to go out that door was to ask for certain death. On a mad impulse, Belle pushed the door shut and slammed it as hard as she could. She leaned her back against the wood and took a few shaking breaths.

Nothing happened. There was no blast of fire, no mocking voice berating her for trying to escape. The door stayed shut, and she stayed safe.

Safe, Belle thought, and alone. Safe, and bored. Safe, but too afraid to take a chance. That wasn’t her.

Besides, what did safety matter anymore? She was the Dark One’s property now. Every breath she took was only at his sufferance. Whatever happened to her was what he wanted to happen to her. He hadn’t ordered her to stay in the cell, she couldn’t be responsible for what happened if she left it. If he had forgotten to lock the door, then it was his own fault that she could walk out.

What if he had left the door open intentionally?

Either way, if Belle opened the door again, something more interesting would happen than if she didn’t. Squaring her shoulders, she reached out her hand, grasped the handle, and pulled.

It opened again. Heart racing, Belle closed her eyes and dashed out of the cell, bracing herself for whatever attack might come.

But nothing came. There was no alarm, no magic pushing her back into her prison. The door didn’t even close behind her but stayed ajar, inviting her to go back whenever the mood took her.

Belle looked around the dungeon halls. They were as dark and shadowy as ever, but she was free to walk them. The cuffs on her wrists were lifeless and inert--there was no order keeping her where she was.

With an incredulous snort, Belle started out for a walk.

****

All the other cells in the dungeon were empty. Belle looked through every grate to make sure of it. To her mind, there were two possibilities for people the Dark One would keep as a prisoner: Either there would be thieves and deal-breakers who would be kept prisoner and face the Dark One’s wrath, or there would be other young women like her who would be compelled to face his lusts. Belle couldn’t have said which prospect frightened her more. She was glad that she didn’t have to face either possibility.

She didn’t think about where she was going. That was a problem for later on. Belle had always liked exploring uncharted territories. When she was small, she had dreamed of traveling the world, filling out the blank spaces on maps, seeing vistas and creatures that no other person had ever seen before. Seeing different castles and grounds had been the best part of visiting relatives with her parents. And she had made a second home of the forest around her family’s lodge. That knowledge had been useful, when she’d had to run from ogres.

Every castle Belle had ever been in had been stuffed with people. Courtiers and pages and serving maids and stable boys, lords and ladies and rat catchers and dogs. You could tell the importance of a person by the size of their entourage, measure wealth by the number of servants in a household.

But here--in the grandest castle Belle had ever seen, home of a man who could spin straw into gold--there was no one. Her footsteps echoed in the empty space.

She had known that the food she ate was produced by magic, but it still shocked her to walk into a vast kitchen that was cold and desolate. There wasn’t even a fire burning in the hearth. Everything was clean and orderly, the pots and pans gleamed with shine--because they had never been used. Belle thought of the kitchen at home, of the roaring fire and the baker’s ovens and the half-dozen scullery maids and cooks’ boys who prepared all the food for the entire castle, of the constant activity of the cooking and cleaning and baking and eating. In comparison, this place was a tomb.

Unsettled, Belle kept moving. The servant’s quarters lined the halls. She opened a few doors to look inside. Like the kitchen, every room was bright and neat and lifeless. It was so wrong. All of it. A castle was a place for people, but there were no people here. Only her. And the Dark One.

Perhaps that explained a thing or two about him, why he could be so peculiar and temperamental. If a person was accustomed to living alone, to having no other soul around, then perhaps a sudden intrusion would be unsettling. But he wanted her here, Belle reminded herself. How could she be intruding if she was only in his company when he ordered her to be there? Still, if Rumpelstiltskin wasn’t used to anyone else, then it made sense that he sometimes wouldn’t know how to act.

The bedrooms became richer as Belle went on. The rooms were getting larger, the furniture inside still plain, but better made than what was found in the servant’s quarters. This section was probably the nurseries, the homes of governesses and wet nurses who were charged to care for the children of the castle.

The rooms of the actual heirs to all this grandeur were absurdly luxurious. In one room Belle found not only a child-sized table--complete with porcelain plates, silverware, and fine glass goblets--but also an even smaller replica of the same place settings on an even smaller table set up for dolls. The princes and princesses who had lived in this castle had better objects for their toys than Belle had ever eaten off of herself.

She closed that door behind her and eventually made her way back to the dining room. Like every other room in the castle, it was empty. But unlike any other room, the fireplace here still smoldered. She entered through the back door, near the glass-fronted cabinets. It was so strange to be here alone. Without Rumpelstiltskin, this was a different room altogether.

Belle’s cheeks flushed when she looked at the table or the carpet by the fire. What if she laid out on those surfaces with her legs spread? What if she sat in one of his chairs? What if she opened the cabinets and looked at his books? What if she waited here for him, made him search for her? Would he punish her for invading his space? Would he be pleased to see her?

But there was still so much more to look at. Belle couldn’t stop her journey at the first familiar place. She went back into the hall, ignoring even the tempting double doors on the other side of the dining room. Those doors, she knew, led to the foyer, and the way out. But she wasn’t going to leave. She turned away.

The landing that led to the dining room had other hallways and staircases that lead from it. She took a short flight up and came upon two sets of doors that faced each other on either side of a wide corridor. The doors were identical, so Belle picked one side at random to open first.

When she opened the door, the room was dark--the curtains drawn, and no fire lit. But as soon as Belle stepped over the threshold, a dozen candles in sconces and candelabras around the room all lit up at once. It was a bedchamber, as large as the dining room. The bed itself--canopied and hung with lush curtains--was the size of the cell Belle slept in. Everything in the room--the bed clothes, the carpets, the wall-hangings, the upholstered chairs--everything was dyed a sumptuous, royal blue. The wood of the bed and the furniture was dark brown, but polished to a shine. It was beautiful.

Surely this was Rumpelstiltskin’s bedchamber. Could there be a grander room than this, even in so large of a castle? Belle had poked her head in the door of a few rooms on her way up to this level. All of the adult bedrooms had been grander than anything she had at home. But this room was a giant among giants! What other room would be fitting for the master of the castle to inhabit?

If it was his room, then it was a private place. Belle realized that she shouldn’t intrude any more than she already had. Backing out of the room slowly, she shut the door quietly behind her.

The door on the other side of the hallway was just as large and ornately carved as the one she had just closed. When she opened the other door, this room was just as dark as the one across the hall.

But when she tried to step into that room, the cuffs would not allow her. They pinned her hands to a fixed point in the air on the outside of threshold, and Belle was powerless to move them. She stepped backwards and they released her, but when she moved forward again, they held her hands in place, keeping her from getting any closer.

No candles lit inside the room, but light from the torches in the hallway cast long shadows into the forbidden chamber. Belle craned her neck to see inside. Was it another bedroom? She couldn’t see how large it was, or what color matched the decor. All she could see was brokenness.

There was a bed in the center of the room, but it was piled high with books and parchment. Two of the bedposts were splintered and the canopy sagged, the bed curtains in tatters. It would be impossible to sleep there. Perhaps that was the point.

Other furniture was also battered and toppled over. Jagged lengths of wood jutted out from the outlines of broken wardrobes and tables. On the floor, Belle saw shards of wood, shattered glass, torn fabric and other rubble.

The light caught one wall and Belle gasped. There were dents in the stone. Circular dents cracked into the rock--a sudden, violent, powerful impact. They were scattered around the wall, like a border marking roughly the same height. Roughly the height of a short man’s reach.

Her mouth went dry and she knew: Fists. Those were fist marks. In addition to his all his terrible magic, the Dark One had enough strength to punch a dent into solid rock.

She stepped back, away from this room, from the darkness and anger and pain that permeated it. Belle could sense the hurt of this place as though it were a foul odor. Her nails dug into her palms and she forced herself to breathe. This was the Dark One’s room. It was the only room in the castle that looked like it had been used at all and it was the den of a monster. Rumpelstiltskin didn’t sleep, read everything, and broke his things when he was angry. This was the man she had bound herself to forever.

But she wasn’t afraid. This room hadn’t told her anything she didn’t already know. Rumpelstiltskin was forthright with his nature, he hadn’t hidden anything of himself from her. She had known he was the Dark One long before he had given her any hints that he might be more. Perhaps she was a fool to think of him with sympathy--but she couldn’t imagine herself doing anything less.

She turned her back on the angry room, and went through a door built into the end of the hallway. The door led to a of flight wooden, narrow stairs. Curling in a tight spiral, the steps led Belle up to a tower. As she walked, Belle became aware of a sound. It was a faint, whirring noise that grew louder as she got closer to the top of the stairs. Aside from her own footsteps, it was the first sound she’d heard all day.

The room at the top of the stairs was mostly wood. Wooden floor, wood-paneled walls, wooden shelves and cupboards, a wooden work table that was covered with strange glass equipment. There were large windows on either side of the room. They would have caught the light on a fine day, but today just caught the gloom. The ceiling was white plaster that arched up from all sides to meet at the center of the circular room.

The whirring noise was coming from by the window. From the great spinning wheel that stood in the far end of the room. From Rumpelstiltskin. He had his back to her, as he sat in front of the wheel. On the floor by his feet there was a basket of straw, but on the bobbin of the spinning wheel there was a skein of gold.

“So you found me.” His voice was quiet, distracted. He didn’t turn around but he knew she was there. He kept his eyes on his work.

“The door was unlocked,” Belle explained. “The door to my cell, I mean.”

“It always was, dearie,” he said in the same distant tone. “I don’t need locks and doors to keep you where I want you.”

Oh. Oh, of course. His magic was more powerful than any amount of stone and wood and iron. All the trappings of a dungeon had been just to frighten her, not to hold her. He had placed her in the appearance of a prison, but left out the function of it. She had taken her surroundings at face value. But she should have known better than that. She should have known to take the Dark One only at his word, and not at his impression.

She would do better in the future.

“May I come in?” The steps ended where the floor of the room began. Belle stood on the top step, wary of crossing into Rumpelstiltskin’s domain.

“You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t allowed to be.”

“I know, Rumpelstiltskin,” she said. “But permitted isn’t the same as invited.”

The whirring stopped for a moment, but he still didn’t look at her. “That’s true,” he said, and the whirring started up again. “Then by all means, I invite you in.”

“Thank you, Rumpelstiltskin.” Belle took the last step up and walked into the circular tower room.

“You needn’t be here, you know,” he said as she came closer to him. “I can come and fetch you when I want you. You can keep exploring my home and searching for treasure.”

“I was not!”

“Not all treasure is silver and gold, dearie.” His hands stayed busy turning straw into gold, but he spared a quick, sly glance in her direction.

Belle sat on the floor by his feet, covering herself as best she could with her robe. “Are you alright?” she asked after a while. “After last night, I mean.”

“Of course I am,” he chirped, his eyes on the wheel. “Fit enough to service the likes of you when I’ve a mind to.”

Belle felt her cheeks grow warm. “I don’t need ‘servicing,’ Rumpelstiltskin. I was asking about you, not your cock.”

She saw his grin. “My cock and my self are both fine. We thank you for your concern. But I have a good deal of straw to spin yet and it will take the rest of the day. I don’t plan to avail myself of your charms until then.” He fed another stalk of straw into the orifice of the wheel. “You really don’t have to stay with me.”

Belle shrugged. “There’s no one else, is there? Besides, I’ve been walking all afternoon. I’d like to rest here, if I may.”

Still with his hands working the straw, he made a dismissive face. “No reason to stop you. But I can’t have you complaining about being bored or distracting me with chatter. Here!” He inclined his head to the ground, and Belle saw an object sitting on the floor between them.

“A book!” Belle nearly laughed aloud. “Thank you!” She picked it up and pressed it to her chest. Without a moment’s pause, Belle leaned over to the ground and placed a quick kiss on each of his boots.

Rumpelstiltskin looked down at her, his hands at his sides, the wheel completely still. “You’re welcome,” he said stiffly.

Belle rubbed her hands over the cover of the book. It was bound in copper-colored silk that shimmered when she moved it. On the front cover, there were two snakes, one light and one dark, each biting the other’s tail and forming an oval. Inside the oval was the book’s title:

“Unendliche Geschichte,” Belle struggled over the strange language. “Am I supposed to be able to read this?”

“Anyone can read that book, even if they can’t read anything else.” He had begun spinning again, his attention drawn back into his wheel.

A magic book! Belle leafed through the pages and saw that it was written in two different colors of ink. There were no illustrations, but the first letter of every chapter was illuminated beautifully. She skimmed pages here and there before she began, catching glimpses of a story about an empress and an oracle, a boy with a horse, a lion who lived in a desert made of rainbow colored sand, and an old man in the mountains. On the very last page, Belle saw that there was no last page. The text at the end of the book wrote itself as she read it, changing every time she shifted her gaze. A story that never ends!

But how did it begin?

Belle curled up in a ball at Rumpelstiltskin’s feet and started at the beginning.

#golden cuffs #rumbelle fic #rumbelle fanfic #ouat #belle french

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