Fic: Tinder-Box (OUaT)
Title: Tinder-Box
Author: lost_spook
Rating: PG/Teen
Word Count: 1322
Characters/Pairings: Regina, Rumplestiltskin (slight Rumple/Regina)
Notes/Warnings: Set early on (not long after the Fairy Tale side events of S2’s “Queen of Hearts”.)
Summary: Some people won’t be told about playing with fire…
For astrogirl2 &
ramasi in the 500 Prompts Meme - 4: Dancing with the Devil - Rumplestiltskin (OUaT) & 206: Dangerous Illusion - Regina/Rumple (OUaT). It’s probably cheating to combine two prompts, but they went together so naturally.
As is patently obvious, some stuff I nicked from Hans Andersen and twisted about (because OUaT).
***
Rumplestiltskin is playing with fire, burning a document with flames that rest in his hand. Regina moves forwards in fascination.
“How do you do it?” she asks, reaching out her hand as if to touch it. “I thought it was an illusion. Show me.”
He closes down his hand on the flame, extinguishing it, and then wags a finger at her. “Not yet, dearie,” he says. “Tomorrow - perhaps!”
Regina turns around and looks along his workbench instead, picking up an object and turning it between her fingertips. “Then what’s this? What does a man who can make fire come out of his fingers want with a tinder-box?”
“Ah-ah-ah,” he says, taking it back with a slap of her hand. He puts it back down on the bench, and then circles round her. “That’s already been stolen once this week - can’t have it happening again!”
Regina watches him as he surveys her again; his hands close to her skin and her clothes but never quite touching her. It’s as if she’s a purchase he’s made at the market; one that he’s both gleeful about finally owning and yet worries it won’t work in the way it’s meant to. She lifts her head, and gives a small smile, before turning to be face to face with him; catching lightly at his hand and moving in nearer.
“What?” she drawls when he gives her a quizzical glance, and she’s speaking into his ear; her lips almost on his neck. “You think I haven’t noticed you looking?”
Where he’s only running his fingers over the air around her, she’s more direct: watching him still watching her, closely enough to see that there is a moment of uncertainty in him, confusion maybe, before suddenly he’s not there at all, he’s behind her.
“Looking is one thing,” he says, “touching is another!”
Regina merely shrugs, gives another private smile - and takes the opportunity to pick up the tinder-box again.
“Oh, is that what you wanted?” said Rumple, and then he gives a careless, impatient gesture with his hand. “Very well, then. If you must, you must. Strike a light, dearie!”
Regina knows it can’t be safe, but she rises to his challenge and doesn’t hesitate to take out the first of the few matches in the box and strike it against the flint.
Before she can even take another breath, there’s a huge dog in front of her, barely inches away. It’s not much shorter than she is and the first thing she sees is its wide, glowing eyes and bared teeth. She’s taken off guard and she gives a yell at the shock and takes a step back.
“Don’t be scared,” says Rumple from beside her. “It’s only a little hellhound.”
Regina recovers her breath. “Or merely an illusion?”
“No, no. It’s real. And don’t worry. It won’t hurt you. The opposite, in fact. It will do anything you command.”
“Good,” says Regina, and immediately orders the awful thing to go away.
Rumple looks over at her and draws in his breath, shaking his head. “Oh, dear, oh dear.”
“Well, what do I want with a creature like that?” says Regina, drawing on haughtiness to cover what he clearly sees as failure on her part.
Rumple mimes his disappointment. “Not very imaginative, though.” He steals the box back, and strikes the second light.
When a second, even larger and more fearsome dog appears, Regina’s ready for it, and she doesn’t flinch this time. She doesn’t think Rumplestiltskin has finished with her yet, but maybe he’s going to let this creature have her, if this is the cost of disappointing him. She holds her position; prepared to use an immobilisation spell if it leaps for her, but Rumplestiltskin only crosses over to the dog and whispers an instruction in its ear that she can’t hear, and then sends it on its way with a pat, a wave, and an amused: “Good doggie!”
“What did you tell it to do?” she asks. She is here to learn, after all.
He laughs at her. “That would be telling. Now, I showed you what you wanted to see - you do something for me!”
“What?”
Rumplestiltskin steals another dark, eager glance at her. “Deal with my thief for me.”
“Your thief?”
“I told you, someone stole this.” He holds up the tinder-box again. “A good-for-nothing drunk of a soldier with no manners. He didn’t have very much imagination, either. All he wanted was all the money he could carry and to snatch away a princess. We can’t have that, can we?”
Regina accepts the challenge with a smile. “Very well.”
“You’ll do it?” He sounds surprised.
Regina merely holds his gaze, and then she calmly removes the tinder-box from his hand, pulls out the remaining match and strikes it against the flint.
The third hell hound is worse than the other two. It’s taller than her, with enormous eyes, vicious teeth, and its whole being bristles with the threat of power and darkness. It seems to be filling the room. And she commands it. She orders it to find the soldier, and pauses to turn and give Rumplestiltskin a triumphant look.
“Yes, yes - and?” he says, impatient for her to finish the order. He’s sitting on the work bench, leaning forward, like a delighted, demented child.
Regina looks back at the creature and realises that the vague threat she’s been thinking of (throw him into the river, maybe?) isn’t enough. She instead takes time to reach out and touch the hound. “Well,” she says to it, “you look hungry to me; you have the thief. Tear him apart, if you like.”
As the dog vanishes, Rumplestiltskin gives a high-pitched giggle, and jumps down from the bench, standing in front of her. “And you,” he says, poking her, “still want to know how to make fire, don’t you?”
“Well, I had thought you teaching me magic was the point,” she says, refusing to give him a reaction, but she’s excited at the prospect. Every new spell, each new power harnessed is exhilarating; a freedom she never dreamt of before.
Rumplestiltskin stands close beside her again. “Go on,” he says. “Try it now. It’s surprisingly simple.”
Regina holds out her hand and focuses on it, remembering what he’s taught her so far, and he’s right; it is surprisingly easy. She draws on her anger, her desire for vengeance to bring out the magic - and fire is a particularly direct expression of that. It’s there in her hands, blazing, and it feels better than anything she’s tried yet - until suddenly it’s not only sitting in her hand, it’s burning it. It’s not an illusion at all; it’s only too real. She won’t scream at the pain, she bites half through her tongue instead, fighting to stop what she’s done.
“It’s not just about power,” says Rumplestiltskin, unmoved by her predicament. “Sometimes it’s about control.”
Regina extinguishes the flames, and lets herself fall back against the wall, tears of pain in her eyes.
“As I said before,” he tells her, pulling her back to her feet again, “looking is one thing, dearie - touching is another!” He waves his free hand with an over-elaborate gesture and her burned hand is now mercifully unharmed. She gives a small gasp of relief, despite herself.
Rumplestiltskin only looks amused, and makes a mocking, grand bow to the Queen. “And here endeth the lesson!” He snaps his fingers, and before Regina can protest, she’s outside, a mile away from his castle and alone again.
Regina pauses to regain her composure, examining her hand again, to be sure that it is still uninjured, and then she walks away. She is learning, and not only the lessons he’s willing to teach her: she’s already trying to use their time together to discover any weaknesses he might have. It’s a dangerous game, and the stakes are high, but she’s more than willing to play.
***
Crossposted from Dreamwidth -- Comments there:
Author: lost_spook
Rating: PG/Teen
Word Count: 1322
Characters/Pairings: Regina, Rumplestiltskin (slight Rumple/Regina)
Notes/Warnings: Set early on (not long after the Fairy Tale side events of S2’s “Queen of Hearts”.)
Summary: Some people won’t be told about playing with fire…
For astrogirl2 &
ramasi in the 500 Prompts Meme - 4: Dancing with the Devil - Rumplestiltskin (OUaT) & 206: Dangerous Illusion - Regina/Rumple (OUaT). It’s probably cheating to combine two prompts, but they went together so naturally.
As is patently obvious, some stuff I nicked from Hans Andersen and twisted about (because OUaT).
***
Rumplestiltskin is playing with fire, burning a document with flames that rest in his hand. Regina moves forwards in fascination.
“How do you do it?” she asks, reaching out her hand as if to touch it. “I thought it was an illusion. Show me.”
He closes down his hand on the flame, extinguishing it, and then wags a finger at her. “Not yet, dearie,” he says. “Tomorrow - perhaps!”
Regina turns around and looks along his workbench instead, picking up an object and turning it between her fingertips. “Then what’s this? What does a man who can make fire come out of his fingers want with a tinder-box?”
“Ah-ah-ah,” he says, taking it back with a slap of her hand. He puts it back down on the bench, and then circles round her. “That’s already been stolen once this week - can’t have it happening again!”
Regina watches him as he surveys her again; his hands close to her skin and her clothes but never quite touching her. It’s as if she’s a purchase he’s made at the market; one that he’s both gleeful about finally owning and yet worries it won’t work in the way it’s meant to. She lifts her head, and gives a small smile, before turning to be face to face with him; catching lightly at his hand and moving in nearer.
“What?” she drawls when he gives her a quizzical glance, and she’s speaking into his ear; her lips almost on his neck. “You think I haven’t noticed you looking?”
Where he’s only running his fingers over the air around her, she’s more direct: watching him still watching her, closely enough to see that there is a moment of uncertainty in him, confusion maybe, before suddenly he’s not there at all, he’s behind her.
“Looking is one thing,” he says, “touching is another!”
Regina merely shrugs, gives another private smile - and takes the opportunity to pick up the tinder-box again.
“Oh, is that what you wanted?” said Rumple, and then he gives a careless, impatient gesture with his hand. “Very well, then. If you must, you must. Strike a light, dearie!”
Regina knows it can’t be safe, but she rises to his challenge and doesn’t hesitate to take out the first of the few matches in the box and strike it against the flint.
Before she can even take another breath, there’s a huge dog in front of her, barely inches away. It’s not much shorter than she is and the first thing she sees is its wide, glowing eyes and bared teeth. She’s taken off guard and she gives a yell at the shock and takes a step back.
“Don’t be scared,” says Rumple from beside her. “It’s only a little hellhound.”
Regina recovers her breath. “Or merely an illusion?”
“No, no. It’s real. And don’t worry. It won’t hurt you. The opposite, in fact. It will do anything you command.”
“Good,” says Regina, and immediately orders the awful thing to go away.
Rumple looks over at her and draws in his breath, shaking his head. “Oh, dear, oh dear.”
“Well, what do I want with a creature like that?” says Regina, drawing on haughtiness to cover what he clearly sees as failure on her part.
Rumple mimes his disappointment. “Not very imaginative, though.” He steals the box back, and strikes the second light.
When a second, even larger and more fearsome dog appears, Regina’s ready for it, and she doesn’t flinch this time. She doesn’t think Rumplestiltskin has finished with her yet, but maybe he’s going to let this creature have her, if this is the cost of disappointing him. She holds her position; prepared to use an immobilisation spell if it leaps for her, but Rumplestiltskin only crosses over to the dog and whispers an instruction in its ear that she can’t hear, and then sends it on its way with a pat, a wave, and an amused: “Good doggie!”
“What did you tell it to do?” she asks. She is here to learn, after all.
He laughs at her. “That would be telling. Now, I showed you what you wanted to see - you do something for me!”
“What?”
Rumplestiltskin steals another dark, eager glance at her. “Deal with my thief for me.”
“Your thief?”
“I told you, someone stole this.” He holds up the tinder-box again. “A good-for-nothing drunk of a soldier with no manners. He didn’t have very much imagination, either. All he wanted was all the money he could carry and to snatch away a princess. We can’t have that, can we?”
Regina accepts the challenge with a smile. “Very well.”
“You’ll do it?” He sounds surprised.
Regina merely holds his gaze, and then she calmly removes the tinder-box from his hand, pulls out the remaining match and strikes it against the flint.
The third hell hound is worse than the other two. It’s taller than her, with enormous eyes, vicious teeth, and its whole being bristles with the threat of power and darkness. It seems to be filling the room. And she commands it. She orders it to find the soldier, and pauses to turn and give Rumplestiltskin a triumphant look.
“Yes, yes - and?” he says, impatient for her to finish the order. He’s sitting on the work bench, leaning forward, like a delighted, demented child.
Regina looks back at the creature and realises that the vague threat she’s been thinking of (throw him into the river, maybe?) isn’t enough. She instead takes time to reach out and touch the hound. “Well,” she says to it, “you look hungry to me; you have the thief. Tear him apart, if you like.”
As the dog vanishes, Rumplestiltskin gives a high-pitched giggle, and jumps down from the bench, standing in front of her. “And you,” he says, poking her, “still want to know how to make fire, don’t you?”
“Well, I had thought you teaching me magic was the point,” she says, refusing to give him a reaction, but she’s excited at the prospect. Every new spell, each new power harnessed is exhilarating; a freedom she never dreamt of before.
Rumplestiltskin stands close beside her again. “Go on,” he says. “Try it now. It’s surprisingly simple.”
Regina holds out her hand and focuses on it, remembering what he’s taught her so far, and he’s right; it is surprisingly easy. She draws on her anger, her desire for vengeance to bring out the magic - and fire is a particularly direct expression of that. It’s there in her hands, blazing, and it feels better than anything she’s tried yet - until suddenly it’s not only sitting in her hand, it’s burning it. It’s not an illusion at all; it’s only too real. She won’t scream at the pain, she bites half through her tongue instead, fighting to stop what she’s done.
“It’s not just about power,” says Rumplestiltskin, unmoved by her predicament. “Sometimes it’s about control.”
Regina extinguishes the flames, and lets herself fall back against the wall, tears of pain in her eyes.
“As I said before,” he tells her, pulling her back to her feet again, “looking is one thing, dearie - touching is another!” He waves his free hand with an over-elaborate gesture and her burned hand is now mercifully unharmed. She gives a small gasp of relief, despite herself.
Rumplestiltskin only looks amused, and makes a mocking, grand bow to the Queen. “And here endeth the lesson!” He snaps his fingers, and before Regina can protest, she’s outside, a mile away from his castle and alone again.
Regina pauses to regain her composure, examining her hand again, to be sure that it is still uninjured, and then she walks away. She is learning, and not only the lessons he’s willing to teach her: she’s already trying to use their time together to discover any weaknesses he might have. It’s a dangerous game, and the stakes are high, but she’s more than willing to play.
***
Crossposted from Dreamwidth -- Comments there: