Belle was much prettier than Rumpel had expected her to be. It almost made him pause. And her soft voice was almost calming and certainly not what he would have pictured for a master thief. A princess, yes. A shopkeeper, yes. A housewife, yes. Not a thief. From the way she begged his pardon, gave him a sweetly frightened look, and tried to back away from him, Rumpel could almost see how she got away with never being caught. Because what girl as sweet and innocent sounding at this lady in front of him could possibly fall so far as to start stealing? Rumpel shook the thought from his head. It mattered not what he expected her to be. She was who she was, and he could not have her running around amok. Besides, she could possible hold many advantages.

A cold biting laughter came from his mouth. “I know more than you think, dearie. I know the lack of time that comes with sneaking around to get the things you want.” It was cute. The thief thought she could out fool him. She tried to break the glass, but he got to it first. “I think, my love, that you are underestimating who you are dealing with.” At that point he really looked at the figurine and anger boiled his blood. He yelled at the gypsy then turned to Belle. 

Rumpel bowed his head as if to contemplate why the figure would mean so much. “For that question, dearie, I shall let your friend tell you the tale.” He waved his hand at the gypsy. The woman let out a muffled scream then jumped as if the noise had scared her. Rumpel knelt down in front of her and took her hands into his. “My darling gypsy, tell our guest about the figure. Why is it so important to you?” he asked in mock concern while tilting his head to the side.

“Go to hell, you monster!” She spat in his face then turned her head to Belle. “Run, stupid girl. And for loves sake, don’t make a de-” Rumpel waved a hand in her face rending her voiceless again while whipping her spit off his face with his other hand. “Guess she does not want you to know.” He said with a shrug as he stood up.

Rubbing his hands together, he rocked on his heels, a small smile playing on his face. “You see, the thing is, it is not what you stole.” He laced his fingers together and put them against his lips for a moment then let out a ticking sound. “It is that you stole from me. And no one, and I mean no one, get away with stealing from the dark one.” He walked over to her so that he was inches away from her. “Begging, or bargaining, would be your best options right now, filth.” He hissed.

He reached out and twirled one of her locks of hair around his finger. “Did you know that the buffoon had a lock of your hair in his pocket?” He asked as he pulled her hair up to smell it Though his eyes still held onto his anger. He listened to her beg, knowing that if was forced. Though that did not stop the smile on his face. It amused him that she was so confident around him when clearly he had the upper hand. He glanced at the saliva on the floor at his feet and laughed. “Such utter pride for someone so innocent and pathetic. You should just stick with your books next time, child! They do not cause you nearly as much as you are going to have to pay tonight.”

It was funny when people stabbed him. Sure, it hurt like hell but he had long since gotten used to the stinging pain of knifes, swords, and various other weapons. Sometimes, he would even hire someone to use a weapon on him just to get used to the pain that was associated with it. Through all that effort, Rumpel had learned to work even through the pain. Not that the pain ever lasted long since his body healed quickly. So when Belle stabbed him, it took all of his energy not to laugh. As soon as she turned from him, he said a quick spell that created a force field around the house, just to make sure that she wasn’t going to get out. Then he pulled the knife from his stomach.

Twirling the knife around his fingers, Rumpel went and sat on the arm of the chair that Esmeralda was trapped in. “You are not getting away that easily, dear.” He told her in a tone that was both amused and annoyed. “However, you are welcome to try all you want.” He concentrated on the knife for a few moments. “In the mean time, could you help me with a demila? You see, I have this lovely knife.” He gripped the knife and ran the flat of the blade against Esmeralda’s cheek, smearing his blood on her face. “And I have this beautiful, if dull, girl. I think she would make an excellent knife holder….” He turned the blade to face down as if to stab the gypsy in the leg. “Can you think of a reason that I should not stab her like you did me?” he asked.