Hiatus announcement

I doubt this will surprise anyone, but for many reason including marked lack of activity, I am placing Celia and Rumpel on indefinite hiatus. Basically I’m shutting down the blogs, just not deleting them. There’s simply no point keeping them open when I can’t keep activity going.

Thank you to everyone in the lovely OUaT fandom with whom I have rped, it has been a pleasure and a privilege. I will leave the askboxes open so if you want to send messages I’ll still get emailed about them. I wish you all the best in everything. <33

A Deal of a Lifetime || magiccomesataprice

He should be used to it by now, Belle catching him off-guard like that; she had an undeniable talent for it. Yet once again he was struck speechless by her unadorned honesty. Perhaps the fact that it was honest was what shocked him. His amazing Belle alive and well and wanting to be here, to live with a twisted shell of a man like himself. For once it felt as if Rumpelstiltskin was the one who had been granted his dearest wish.

“Then shall we be off?” He gave her an elaborate bow and offered her his arm.

Her smile returned when he bowed, as bright and as genuine as it could possibly have been. She closed what distance was left between them and slipped her arm through his, securing herself by his side as she turned her head to look at him.

“We shall.”

Rumpelstiltskin varied what markets he went to, for it wouldn't do to establish habits that enemies could observe and use against him - and after all, what was distance to one with his abilities? The market he took Belle to this day was one of his favorites, and one he patronized often enough that they were marginally accustomed to his presence. The merchants held little fear of him, for they knew he would pay well for his purchases and reward them when they showed initiative to seek things he wanted. Rumpel had no interest in tricking or harming those of the more humble classes - it was the rich and powerful, the high-handed and arrogant that he joyed in bringing down. Thus his presence at the market prompted no alarm, only a few nervous sidelong glances among the patrons.

"Where would you like to go first?" he murmured to her, gesturing around the large market with its stalls full of varied and gaily-colored merchandise.

As he took hold of her hand, her eyes were on his face. The concern she saw in his expression would have undoubtedly surprised anyone else, but for Belle it was heartening confirmation that the faith she had in him was not as misplaced as even Rumpelstiltskin himself believed.

At the odd sensation of his magic healing her marred skin, and she found herself watching this process in silent wonderment. It was only when he spoke again that her gaze shifted to his face once more.

His discomfort was palpable in a way that was almost endearing - and almost enough to distract Belle from her own embarrassment. Without a word, she gathered a section of damp fabric in one hand in order to expose whatever damage had been done. Her skirts were cold to the touch now, and heavier where the water had seeped through. 

She was somewhat thankful that she did not have to lift them too high in order to find where her skin had been coloured an unpleasant red - the boiling water had not hit anywhere higher than the middle of her thighs, and the leg closest to Rumpelstiltskin was the worse of the two. She arranged her skirts as modestly as she could while keeping the injured areas exposed, eyes now on the task at hand rather than him.

"Aye, that'll do," he murmured, distracted from his embarrassment by the fiery red patches of burns on her fair skin, even showing signs of blistering in a few places. Those had to hurt, but she was bearing up bravely. It was fortunate that his magic would take care of them; if she'd had to let them heal naturally they'd have probably made her petticoats and skirts seem like a special torment.

He never paused to ask himself why her discomfort mattered so much to him.

"Hold still now," he instructed unnecessarily, more for the sake of having something to say. He lifted one hand to hover just above the burns, but as he had no need to support her leg as he had her hand, he moved his other hand out of the way. He couldn't help noticing that her hand lay just a few inches from his, and despite her efforts to control she still looked a little distressed.  Without giving it additional thought and pretending to be utterly absorbed in healing her, he moved his free hand to cover hers and curl around it, not quite clasping it but still there, silently offering comfort as his magic soothed away her injuries.

Roses || magiccomesataprice

“I’ll admit I haven’t had the means or cause to do so in quite some time, but I’m at least a passably proficient swimmer.” His tone made her smile take on a somewhat mischievous quality as she continued. “You won’t have to look for a new caretaker due to my drowning on this trip, if that’s what concerns you.”

She nodded in acceptance of his following words, but smiled once again at the quip. “That’s very fortunate indeed.”

"Good thing, too. It was hard enough getting you trained properly," he remarked with nonchalant outrageousness. "I've no desire tae have ta start all over again with someone else." He looked sidelong at her and grinned wickedly.

"Oh," he realized that since he had unceremoniously swept her away from her home with no time to pack, it was doubtful that she now possessed a bag into which to pack her things. "Erm, here." He moved his hand in a horizontal line a few feet above the floor, and purple smoke appeared underneath it. When the smoke cleared there was a medium-sized traveling bag sitting there, a pretty one in a pale gold color with roses embroidered on it in darker gold thread, and Belle's name also embroidered in a pretty decorative script near one corner in the same gold thread. He did not, strictly speaking, have to make the bag pretty. However, he told himself, it wouldn't do to have his caretaker looking like a pauper with dull, ugly luggage. That would make him look bad. Giving her a pretty and expensive-looking bag was just good business.

She didn’t bother hiding the fact that an eyebrow quirked up towards her hairline at his tone. Evasiveness was hardly an unusual trait when it came to Rumpelstiltskin, but for someone as curious and as perceptive as Belle was it often prompted at least some degree of analysis as to just why he had chosen to ignore or dismiss whatever it was. In this case, she found herself wondering whether it was because he was annoyed with her, or because of something else entirely.

She did as instructed, expression settling back into a more neutral one as she set the tray down and turned to face him once more.

“Will that be all?” Her tone was one of affected properness, intended to counterbalance his own. Two could play at whatever game this was.

Rumpel stoically ignored her curiously quirked eyebrow. He was well used to Belle's inquisitiveness, and he'd just have to work around it. He'd convince her that her little seductive tricks were naught but an annoyance to him.

If only that were true.

Well, it didn't matter how alluring she was, he was centuries old and he had enough control to feign indifference, he told himself, ignoring the fact that even in all that time he'd not had much practice resisting such temptation. Very few women thought to flirt with the Dark One.

He glanced over the book he was reading and surveyed the tray she had placed on the table before him. Much to his annoyance, he found that also gave him an excellent view of her decolletage. Blast it, why does she insist on wearing dresses with such low necklines? he thought irritably, disregarding that he could have corrected that (at least for today) instead of simply conjuring one of her existing dresses unchanged. He flicked his gaze away from the eye-catching display of female curves and stared down at the tray again.

"That will do, thank you." He raised the book again and gave it his fiercely focused attention.

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A Deal of a Lifetime || magiccomesataprice

His response had been unexpected and, if only for a second, a retort escaped her. She had known simply from looking at the room itself that he had created all of this with her own taste firmly in mind, but to hear him admit as much was another thing entirely. Perhaps that was why instead of avoiding giving him a real answer, she returned the display of honesty.

“Provided that you are my escort, I have no reason at all to quibble over any of the other particulars.”

He should be used to it by now, Belle catching him off-guard like that; she had an undeniable talent for it. Yet once again he was struck speechless by her unadorned honesty. Perhaps the fact that it was honest was what shocked him. His amazing Belle alive and well and wanting to be here, to live with a twisted shell of a man like himself. For once it felt as if Rumpelstiltskin was the one who had been granted his dearest wish.

“Then shall we be off?” He gave her an elaborate bow and offered her his arm.

“Well then we should be thankful I didn’t burn my tongue, shouldn’t we?” There was no attempt at feigned irritation now, and no attempt to disguise the pain in her voice; she knew he’d seen straight through her. But her tone did contain a flash at the teasing lilt she favoured with him on most occasions, even as she tried to shift to a slightly more comfortable position and winced.

“I don’t think it’s too bad,” It was the truth, but also said with the intention of reassuring him. “At least, I don’t think it can have done too much damage to my legs with all this fabric in the way. I, ah,” There was a glance down at her left hand, then. “Think my hand may be another matter entirely, though.”

"Then we'll tend to your hand first," he said, brusquely to hide his worry. He took her hand up very carefully in his and examined it, and a frown deepened the creases on his gold-toned brow as he noticed the profusion of angry red splotches of burns marring her fair skin. "So it is," he murmured thoughtfully, and delicately held her hand supported in one of his while he moved his other hand in a slow sweeping motion over her injured skin. Nothing could be seen of the magic passing between his hand and hers, but where his digits passed the burns faded away leaving only flawless flesh in their wake.

"Now, erm..." he glanced down toward her water-dampened skirts, torn between worry and awkwardness. "I'll let you- em, move your skirts and show me where ye're hurt, hm?"

neal cassidy + text posts (1/?) 

Roses || magiccomesataprice

She watched him as he spoke, allowing the excitement she felt at the prospect of travelling creep into her expression. For all of her teasing, she didn’t entirely care whether she unearthed the reasoning behind his decision or not; while part of her would of course be glad to do so, she knew that it was unlikely to happen. And part of her feared that if she ever did begin to decipher any aspect of his reasoning, it may tarnish whatever it was that caused her to feel so very at ease around him.

Never mind what it would do to how he behaved towards her.

“I think I’ll be able to leave the books alone once or twice.” She smiled. “And I’ll have to trust you in that regard, I think.”

“Good,” he said, putting on a brusque tone to cover his gratification at her obvious excitement. His former wife had been a beauty but hers could be a cold beauty, whereas Belle had the sort of sweetness that could light up a room with her smile - a beauty that was not only alluring but comforting, warm and open. The dawning excitement in her expression at that moment only made is all the more dangerously enchanting. “Ye do know how to swim, don’t you?” The comment was intended partly to lightly needle her, but also out of a small but legitimate concern.

“We’ll leave day after tomorrow,” he concluded curtly. “That should give ye time ta pack, now that ye’ll need much. We’ll buy much of what ye need when we get there.” He leaned closer to Belle as if to share a secret. “Fortunately I do have a bit of gold to spare for that sort of thing,” he quipped humorously, for both of them knew he could spin all the gold he could ever desire.

Liar.

The accusation danced on the tip of her tongue, but she knew that it would not serve her well to voice it. Instead, she continued to watch him as he spoke, gaze not leaving him for a second as she tried to see some kind of indication as to what was going on.

She uttered a quiet ‘goodnight' as he left, and waited until the door had closed behind him to set her closed book down on a side table before standing and smoothing her skirts down, intending to follow his advice. Prying did not tend to help, and if she still thought that something was off come morning she could deal with it then. Perhaps her judgement was clouded by the worry she had felt over his late return.

But by the time she left the library and closed the heavy door behind her, he was still visible at the end of the corridor as she turned to head down it. The fact that he was still in sight, though admittedly she had not lingered too long, spoke volumes to her.

"I had thought you a better liar than this, Rumpelstiltskin."

Damn, damn, damn, he thought wearily as Belle’s matter-of-fact voice spoke out from behind him. If only she had lingered another minute… but she had not. She’d never previously tried to harm him or escape, but then he had never been so weak and vulnerable in her presence before.

“I suppose we all have our off days, dearie,” he replied, a tired attempt at his usual drollness. Well, the damage was done now, he thought, and so be it. He had to lean against the wall so he could turn and face her.

“Ye should be more careful, Belle,” he advised faintly. “Monsters are never more dangerous than when they’re in pain.”

Despite being convinced that his request for tea really had just been an excuse to get her out of his sight, she took her time making it (and the cookies he had requested, too). 

She had grown to like cooking during her time here - baking in particular, and she wondered if his demand would have seemed like a less effective punishment-of-sorts to him if she’d ever told him that.

The journey with the tray from the kitchen to his study was much easier now than when she had first come here. Then she had been afraid to repeat her early accident, constantly worried that she would ruin yet another piece of the tea set. She shifted her hold on the tray so that it was balanced against her hip and her arm, and opened the door to his study.

Once she was out of sight and he had made his way to his study, he gamely attempted to divert his thoughts by concentrating on a project. However he soon gave up and began pacing like a caged tiger, for his mind insisted on recreating the picture of Belle’s bare back, the sunlight caressing her curves like a lover’s hand.

Blast the woman!

It didn't matter, he told himself. However she may enjoy teasing, no decent woman like Belle would invite an imp to her bed and for all his crimes, Rumpelstiltskin never had - nor ever would - force an unwilling woman. He’d just have to ignore her teasing, make her believe that it did not affect him. Surely after having her little flirtatious ploys go unheeded long enough, she would become frustrated and desist. If she should think him not a man at all, that was better than her realizing that he was prone to a man’s weaknesses.

Not long after he came to this conclusion, the object of his thoughts entered bearing a tray of the requested tea and cookies.

“Ah, Belle, thank you. You can put them on the table.” His calm tone gave no hint that earlier quarrel had ever taken place.

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Greeter Sentences

A Deal of a Lifetime || magiccomesataprice

Rumpel gave a pronounced shrug.

“Whatever will…” he flicked his hand demonstratively with the next words, “spruce up the place?” He leaned in closer as if confiding a secret. “I’ll admit you might be a little better than I am at picking out pretty things.” Then he straightened up and cleared his throat. “But I’ll deny it if ye tell anyone I said that,” he added with a stern finger pointed at her. He held the feigned frown for a few beats longer and his grin appeared as suddenly and brightly as magic. “When are ye wanting tae go?”

She laughed, using the fact that he had leaned closer as an opportunity to nudge him, gently. ”Your secret is, as always, safe with me. Though I’m tempted to argue with you, having seen this room.”

If it was even possible, considering how much she was already smiling, it only grew when she caught sight of his grin. “As soon as you wish, Rumpelstiltskin. I’ve all the time in the world, and provided that you are my escort…” She trailed off, with only that smile of hers reinforcing the sentiment behind both the statement and the silence. 

“But I only chose things I thought you would like, dearie, so it’s as much your taste as mine.” It was hard to say in that moment which did more to distract him - the beauty of her bright smile, or the fact that she had willingly and playfully touched him. When did anyone ever do that? But then Belle had always been different - bright and caring and unafraid. “Provided I am your escort… what, dearie?” He lifted an eyebrow at her curiously.

"I wonder what was, then," Rumpel gave her a halfhearted glare but didn’t push the subject any further. It was pure madness to think she even viewed him as a man, much less one to flirt with, but cursed if it didn’t sometimes seem like she was intentionally drawing his attention to her… assets. Plainly she wasn’t trying to seduce him, but maybe to amuse herself, or keep her little flirtatious skills sharp? 

"Yes, I do." It wasn’t even a very convincing lie. "And… cookies. Make some cookies too." There, that should keep her busy and out of trouble for a while. Not to mention out of sight while he regained his composure. Blast her beautiful curvacious annoying hide.

She was careful not to respond to the glare with too bright a smile. Instead she smoothed the skirts of the dress that he had conjured, and began to make her way to the door.

“Right. And where will you be taking your tea?”

“I’ll take it in my study.” At least it seemed like she was going to be obey, although he didn’t trust that her mischief was done even for now. Really, what had possessed the girl to do such a thing? As she walked toward the door he became aware of his gaze lingering upon her curves and the sway of her hips as she walked, and he inwardly swore at himself for it. An irritated growl once she was out of sight was his only concession to the lingering disorientation, then he followed her inside.

She was putting up a brave front, he’d give her that, but the waver in her voice worried him more than he wanted to let on. Her scream from the kitchen had brought him running even before the loud clang registered, to find her with damp skirts and standing back from the puddle of water surround the fallen teakettle. Small curls of steam from the puddle on the floor confirmed his fear that the water was hot, maybe hot enough to burn.  He’d swiftly caught her up and conveyed her to her room, laying her down on the bed so he could tend the burns. Unfortunately that required him to find them all first, which was awkward to say the least. “Ye’ll have ta tell me the places ye’re burned, dearie, I dinnae think ye want me undressing ye to find them.”