OUAT Fic: Far Beneath the Bitter Snow - Ch. 7
Far Beneath the Bitter Snow
Summary: What if Belle had refused to leave Rumpel’s castle, knowing she’d be rejected at home?
A/N: Hopefully the fluffiness of this chapter will make up for my long absence. :P No spoilers for this one.
So many thanks for all of the reviews and favoriting of this story! You guys are just too awesome for words. :)
Thanks again to TrueLove'sMiss for the fabulous beta!
And enjoy!
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Link to previous chapters: Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, and Chapter 6
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Chapter 7:
Belle was serving tea one afternoon, when Rumpelstiltskin recalled the first time she'd done the same task. Startled by his sick joke, she'd dropped one of the cups that time, chipping it, which was one of his fonder memories of her since she'd come to the Dark Castle. It was then he realized she'd been there a full year. It hadn't seemed so long, yet it sometimes felt as though she'd been there forever. How had he'd lived before Belle?
Alone, he reflected. Alone and unloved. Things had definitely changed since then; her blush when their eyes met or their hands touched proved that her love for him was true. It moved him in a way he'd never been blessed; the only unconditional love he'd had before was with his son, though even Bae had left when he couldn't bear with Rumpelstiltskin's power.
But Belle... She was different, loving him in spite of his power, drawing out the human nature he'd buried so deep and forgotten. He'd noticed that his voice even dropped in pitch when it was just the two of them, though that had begun so early on that he couldn't exactly pinpoint when he'd stopped being a monster around her; he decided it was probably when she told him that she didn't believe he was. He'd figured there was no point in continuing on with the nonsense if she wasn't going to believe it.
A year, he thought again as she stirred a little cream into his tea the way he'd grown to like it. He purposely met her eyes and held her gaze, his hand reaching out to grasp his cup and brush his fingers against hers.
Belle quickly pulled her hand back and held it against her skirt, wiping it against the cloth of her apron as if to rub the feeling of his touch off of her. He watched her curiously, hoping again she wasn't repulsed by him and finding it unlikely by the color in her cheeks. She gestured toward the rest of the house. “I need to get an early start on dinner. I'm making a roast.”
“Sounds lovely,” he said, a bit distracted by a slight quiver in her voice.
She curtsied and hurried from the room, when he had an idea. He went to his mirror, uncovered it, and demanded that it show Belle. She was practically running from the dining room, her steps quick all the way to the kitchen, where she closed the door and leaned against it, putting her hand over her heart. “Oh...” she breathed heavily, trying to calm herself. “Rumpelstiltskin,” she whispered, “if only you knew what you do to me.”
His heart jumped in his chest, and he watched only long enough to note that she calmed enough to pull away from the door and get to work on the evening meal. He covered the mirror again, and held his hand over his own fast-beating heart as he returned to his chair at the table. If only she knew what she did to me, he thought, closing his eyes, leaning his head back against the tall back of the chair. She truly did love him, wholly and unconditionally. Now it was up to him to convince her that it wasn't a feeling that was one-sided.
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Grumpy came to see him again the next week, asking for his help to free James from his prison, though he wasn't accompanied by his fair friend this time. Snow wasn't as interested in seeking Rumpelstiltskin's help again, knowing the price that should come with it, regardless of his previous generosity, not asking for anything more. Rumpelstiltskin knew that if she had come, he'd give her whatever was she needed, but this was better. He had to keep his reputation for being the Dark One who dealt only in dark deals.
For the first time, he was at a loss for a suitable payment for the invisible cloak he gave to Grumpy so that he could sneak into King George's dungeon and free James. But he knew that wouldn't do, when he had a thought. “You work in a diamond mine,” Rumpelstiltskin bent his finger toward the dwarf. He'd been considering all week that Belle needed some kind of gift to acknowledge her year spent with him, deciding that he could fashion something out of the gold he had at his fingertips. A diamond would add that much more to it.
Grumpy frowned. “Yeah. So?”
“Well, you see...” he began to pace, “precious gems are hard to come by. I can't just snap my fingers and make them appear,” he said with the flair of acting out what he was saying. “I have to get them the same way as everyone else.”
Grumpy's eyebrows were suddenly crooked. “And you need a diamond? What for?”
“Ah!” he chastised, spinning on his heel to face him again. “That's my business.” He pointed to the dwarf. “It's simple,” he said with his usual sneer. “Bring me a diamond, and I'll give you the cloak.”
“It's not that easy,” Grumpy complained with a shake of his head. “I'll get in trouble if I take one from the mine. If I get caught--”
“You won't,” the imp promised, staring at him until Grumpy understood that he would make sure of that by way of his magic.
“So, I just bring you a diamond...”
Rumpelstiltskin's head shook as he boasted merrily, “It's as easy as that!”
Assured that he wouldn't be caught, Grumpy hurried away from the Dark Castle to complete his quest. Twenty-four hours later, he was back, and held out a two-inch-long, cylindrical diamond he dropped out of a felt pouch from around his neck. “It was the best I could do,” he vowed. “Hope it's what you were looking for.”
“It's perfect,” Rumpelstiltskin proclaimed as he stared at it the gem, until he noticed Grumpy's frown and realized he might be acting out of character. He snapped, the diamond was gone, and the cloak appeared in his hand, which he passed to the dwarf. “Your cloak.” He also unrolled a magic map, and pointed to a spot on it. “You must enter the castle here,” he instructed, “at midnight. Any sooner or later, and you'll be caught.”
“I understand,” Grumpy swore, taking the map he offered too. Then he did something Rumpelstiltskin wasn't expecting, and said, “Thank you.”
Shocked by the sincere gesture of gratitude for his help that no one had ever offered before, Rumpelstiltskin stood mute as the dwarf left the hall and hurried out of the massive front doors. Perhaps he was losing his reputation of a mean-spirited imp after all. He couldn't let that happen just yet. He would have to think of more costly trades for his deals.
But for now, he was satisfied for what he'd bargained. He opened his hand and the diamond was again in his palm. It was an odd shape, but he could turn it into something special for Belle.
Closing his fingers around it again, he hurried up to his tower to get to work.
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Belle was washing dishes in the kitchen after dinner when he found her. He held the gift in his hand, unsure why he hadn't been able to give it to her earlier in the day, though he deduced that it was just the same nervousness he was feeling now. It had been burning a whole in his pocket all day, and with it currently in his hand, he felt as though it was the object that was making him perspire and not the pounding of his own heart.
Nothing had changed since their fight some weeks earlier, except his inner scrutiny and his belief that she was right, and his plan could work to bring them together in the end. He stood in the doorway, chiding himself for hesitating, knowing she could accept a simple gift without expecting her to feel any differently about him. It was most likely that she would see it just as the kind of friendly gift he wanted it to be, but inside...he knew that it was coming from a much deeper place than one of friendship. His nerves under control, he forcefully walked into the kitchen to get the task over with...but every step felt like he was crumbling inside. If only she knew what power she held over him, she could render him useless. He'd have to be careful that that didn't happen, and he supposed, as long as held his own dagger and didn't allow her to kiss him, he would. Even if just the sight of her brown curls bouncing on her back as she worked compelled him to want to lose his power in what would be the most exhilarating of kisses.
Clearing his throat to shake the desire to kiss her again, he got her attention. “Oh,” she exclaimed when she saw him standing a few feet behind her. “I'm sorry; I didn't know you were looking for me.” She quickly shook the water off her hands and dried them on her apron. “I was daydreaming, I suppose,” she offered a timid smile. “Is there something you need?”
What he needed didn't seem to matter in the moment; it was what he wanted that he couldn't yet voice or act upon.
“I have something for you,” he seemed to manage. He took a few steps closer and reached out with his arm, his fist closed around the object. “Hold out your hand,” he softly commanded, and she did as was told. “To commemorate the year you've spent here.” He gently handed her what he'd made and watched as she looked down and gasped in delighted surprise.
“Oh...Rumpelstiltskin,” she mouthed breathlessly, unfolding the gold to find that it was a chain with an inch-long diamond that hung from it. She marveled at the clarity of the stone - almost perfectly clear enough to see through - and the way it was mounted and hung from one end like an icicle. “It's beautiful,” she said, knowing the word wasn't nearly adequate enough to declare what she thought of it.
He'd only used a portion of the diamond Grumpy had brought to him, deciding to save some of it for another occasion - or even a potion or spell, if the need for it arose, which it did on occasion. He carefully lifted the necklace from her palm and walked around her to fix it to her neck, but wasn't prepared for the blended fragrance of flowers that wafted from Belle's hair when she lifted it to allow him to do so. It hit his nose like a wave, and for a several breaths after the necklace was secured, he closed his eyes and inhaled her unique scent.
Belle turned when she felt the weight of the jewelry and caught him with his hand in her hair, his eyes closed in enjoyment, for just a moment before he opened them and pretended all was as it used to be. She smiled, her heart leaping into her throat, thankful that she was beginning to notice such little things that proved that everything between them had indeed changed. She chanced reaching up to touch his face, and then she leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek.
Rumpelstiltskin had seen her coming and froze with his eyes wide-open, watching her to make sure she didn't aim for his lips. But when the warmth of her breath reached his cheek, he let his lids drift closed again, dreaming for that moment that what they had was so much more.
Keeping her face close to his, she told him quietly, “Thank you for the gift, but...you should know by now that I don't need anything from you but your...” she stopped and amended her statement. “Y-your kindness is enough.” She picked up the diamond pendant and rolled it between her fingers. “But...I do love it.”
He nodded stiffly. “I'm glad.”
The awkward moment making him uncomfortable, he skirted around her to head for the door.
“Rumpelstiltskin,” she called out, causing him to stop and look back at her. She held the diamond between her fingers. “I've had a good year...here.”
“No complaints, then?”
“Well,” she smirked, casually taking a few steps closer to him, “I do wish you'd trust me a bit more. But on the whole, you've been good to me, much better than I expected when I left my father's house with you.”
He nodded, his mind unable to come up with anything appropriate to say.
“I never expected a gift from you.” He glanced up at her and saw that she was again fingering the diamond and staring at it.
“Then we're nearly even,” he heard his voice speaking, seemingly unable to stop himself. “I never expected your love.”
He left the room when he saw her mouth drop open. And he reprimanded himself - whether for leaving too soon or for admitting so much, it didn't matter - all the way up to his tower to spin.
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The winter seemed to be dragging on, Belle thought, as she was running out of ideas to keep her hands busy throughout the long days. The castle was spotless and easy to clean, taking only an hour or so of each day to tidy up, and a few hours each week to dust. It seemed like the dust was the hardest to keep up with, as laundering their clothing and bed-linens only took a couple of hours each week. Cooking was the only daily chore, so, many days, in those long and seemingly endless afternoon hours, Belle wandered around with nothing to do. Reading seemed to be her only refuge from the time and loneliness, as Rumpelstiltskin still seemed to be avoiding her.
She'd read everything within reach in the library by the time March rolled around, and was considering what books she had left that were too high up. Multiple ladders around the room and balconies at the second-floor level made it easier, but she was sure the room was designed by a man, for men, as some of the shelves were simply too far out of reach for Belle.
Alas, her willpower was far too strong to let her mind and hands be idle, so she ventured up the tall ladder toward a particular book that intrigued her. She was up on the highest rung, holding onto a shelf's edge as an anchor, and stretching as far as she could when Rumpelstiltskin came in the room.
“Please...do not fall,” he softly commanded as his way of announcing his presence.
Belle stopped reaching for the book to hold onto the shelves with both hands and look down at him with a pleased smile. “Well, now that you're here to catch me...”
He crossed his arms. “And if I hadn't come into the room at this very moment, would you be as careless?”
“Perhaps,” she shrugged and laughed, enjoying their banter. She sobered until her lips were merely smiling. “I didn't know you were home.”
He softened a bit. “Don't move; I'll help you down.”
She was surprised when he deftly climbed the ladder to stand behind her, his shoes one rung below hers, and he wrapped his arm snugly about her waist. Belle's breath caught in her throat, and she found it difficult to breathe, yet, she knew it wasn't because he was squeezing her too tightly. His tender touch alone was the only reason for her body's reaction.
“Hold here,” he pointed to a shelf lower than the one her hands were gripping, “and step down, very slowly, one rung at a time.”
She could have argued that she'd gotten up there by herself and could manage getting down the same way, but there was something about the way he was caring for her that made her mute. Instead, she did as she was told, moving at a snail's pace, as if prolonging the enjoyment of his nearness that would be gone the minute he was sure she could manage on her own.
Step by step, they descended the ladder together until she had both hands on the long sides. He checked to make sure she was okay and then continued the rest of the way to the floor alone. He went on giving her instructions as she came down after him, even as she managed it with ease...until her foot slipped on the last rung closest to the floor. She fell back into his arms in the same position she'd been in at the top of the ladder, with his arm around her waist. “Oops,” she mouthed, feeling silly for so slight a mistake, trying to ignore the way her heart was pounding so fiercely that she was certain he could hear it. She took a breath to calm herself, but it didn't work when she noticed he didn't remove his arm from her waist.
“And that's why I helped you down,” he declared.
“You know how clumsy I am,” she agreed, resting her arm on his, leaning back against him as he put his lips to her ear.
“You must promise never to put yourself in that kind of danger again,” he whispered, his voice a touch harsh.
Belle was so struck by his warm breath on her ear that she would've agreed to anything just to keep him there, even though the directness of his tone frightened her a little. She nodded, still unable to speak, only slightly curious for his warning. Wasn't he a wizard who could prevent accidents, protect her from injuries, or heal them once they occurred? It seemed it would be so easy a task for one with his power. Why did he care if she was in danger?
He didn't move his lips from her ear, nor his hand from around her waist, though his voice did soften. “Which book were you reaching for?”
It occurred to her after a moment that he'd asked a question that required an answer, and she opened her eyes to look up - somewhat dazed - at the shelves above the ladder. “Gold book, red stripes on the spine, well worn.”
He snapped his fingers, and she saw the book was missing from the shelf and was now in his free hand. “This one?”
“Yes,” she managed, lifting her head from his shoulder to stand on her own strength. She reached for the book and turned slightly toward him as he gradually released his hold on her waist. “Thank you.”
“You're welcome, miss. Now, please, heed my warning. If ever you have need of something out of reach, I'd rather you call for me to help you.”
She shook the haziness of their closeness from her mind. “But...I never know if you're out or gone... If you're up in your tower in the west wing, I'm not allowed to go in search of you. I don't think you'd like me to stand at the bottom of the stairs and bellow for you.”
“Indeed not,” he agreed, pursing his lips. “Whether I'm home or away, you need only to speak my name three times to summon me.”
“That's it?” she asked, and he nodded. She wondered, “Is that all anyone has to do to speak with you?”
“Yes, though there are more well-known ways amongst the people. If everyone knew how easy it was to summon the Dark One, I would not rest at'all.”
“My father summoned you by letter,” she thought aloud.
“Yes, that's one way,” he bobbed his head once. “There is also a rock across our river that need only to be struck twice and a candle in a specific tree that could be lit...” He shrugged, “Different groups circulate different myths, and all of them work to acquire my attention.”
“Who else knows the method of merely calling your name thrice?”
His voice was quiet. “You're the first, dearie.”
Belle inhaled sharply, knowing his sharing that secret with her was a big step toward an intimacy for which she hadn't dared hope in weeks. He seemed a bit restless in the moment, and she knew he was most likely looking for an appropriate time to escape the tenseness between them. But she didn't want it to end and have him leave her with her loneliness again.
She cleared her throat, holding out the book. “I was just going to read for an hour or so before I start on dinner. If you're not busy, would you…care to join me? I could read aloud.”
Having nowhere to go and no task before him, he couldn't refuse her, but since he didn't trust his own voice, he simply nodded and let her lead the way to the sofa by the fire. The wind was howling softly outside, but by the fire, it was cozy and comfortable. And with her, it was his own personal heaven.
The book she’d chosen was about a sultan and a woman and her thousand and one nights filled with stories. Rumpelstiltskin was enraptured, but not necessarily with the book or the smooth way in which Belle read. He was caught up in the movement of her lips, the shape of her mouth, and the blue of her eyes. He was so mesmerized, in fact, that when she stopped and looked up at him, he couldn’t recall what was happening in the story.
Belle closed the book and quirked her lips. “I have to start on dinner now. We could read more later this evening, if you’d like.”
“I would like that,” he found himself saying, though he wouldn’t have planned to be so impulsive.
She read for another hour after dinner before her voice got tired and she closed the book. And for the following hour, neither of them said anything, just staring at the flames in the fireplace, lost in their own thoughts.
When he was home, each evening after dinner was spent that way, and over several weeks, it became routine. Belle would read a book she’d chosen for longer periods some nights, and others, they’d stare at the fire the way they were now. After the first week, he began to tell her when he was going away and for how long, and unlike those first few trips he took, he kept his word, returning exactly when he said he would, so that she wouldn't wait in vain for him by the fire with her book. Conversations between them came easier, shared smiles became more natural, and the space between them on the couch lessened with each passing day.
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Moments by the fire increased as the weeks moved on, though Belle's reading aloud didn't seem to be the reason. Some nights she didn't even sit down with a book, yet, neither seemed to be able to move from their seats each evening, just enjoying the silence and the fire together. Oftentimes, Belle would eventually succumb to the fatigue, letting her head fall to the back of the sofa. Rumpelstiltskin would typically wait until he knew she was out before standing and lifting her in his arms and carrying her up to her room. Until one night, when he longed for more.
He'd been watching how heavy her eyelids seemed to be for a while, thinking how he should voice that she could go on to bed, but keeping silent. For some reason, he could never seem to warn her that she was getting sleepy and urge her to go upstairs to her room to sleep; instead, he just watched in awed silence, until her head fell against the pillow on the back of the tall sofa. He’d taken to watching her sleep over time, sometimes tugging the hair by the ends away from her face to see her better or straightening her skirt over her curled up feet to keep her warm. He made sure never to touch her skin, afraid that once he started, he wouldn’t be able to stop until he was powerless.
But this time was different, he realized as her cheek dropped to rest on her arm on the couch. He’d had a desire to touch her for far too long and no strength to keep his hands to himself. He wanted to just see what it felt like to love her the way she had him, and he didn’t exactly know how. It had been so long since he’d even tried, and Charlotte had held the reins in their relationship, seducing him whenever she felt like it. He’d been just as helpless then, which was probably why he feared Belle’s unselfish love. He could tell that she would wait for him to love her, and when that day came, he wouldn’t know what to do. His arm around her waist that day he'd rescued her from the ladder had been the extent of his romantic capabilities, and that had been out of sheer concern for her safety. What if she wanted more, and he didn't know how to behave?
And then there was the possible rejection to contend with. Her response to any of his advances, whether she pushed him away or asked for more, would be difficult to live with. What if he couldn’t give her more? What if his love wasn’t enough to satisfy her? Even though she swore that her feelings for him were real and that she’d love him anyway, he still felt like it was a risk. What if she was mistaken? What if what she thought was love was really just a sort of respect, the way one feared a god or some other powerful being? When he didn’t have that power anymore, she might come to think that he wasn’t good enough for her. He’d seen Gaston, who was young and handsome and much closer to what Belle deserved. Her father had chosen wisely for her, even if Belle proclaimed that Gaston had been far too superficial for her to love. He’d always thought of himself as shallow, especially since acquiring his power. How was he any different than Gaston?
She was sound asleep now, judging by the deep breaths flowing in and out of her lungs. Her stocking-covered-feet were tucked up under her skirt on her other side, her knees turned toward him. He scooted as close as he could and studied her perfect face. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever possessed, and he hadn’t expected to fall so victim to her love when he’d first acquired her. Had he known how willing he’d be to give up everything to have her, would he have made a different choice back then? Surely her father had something else of value that he could have traded for. He’d still be happy with just his power, but, of course, he’d miss out on this, her love and devotion to him, her beauty.
Slowly lifting his hand, he carefully pushed the hair away from her face to see her more clearly. Her cheek was flawless and looked so white against the contrast of his dark hands. She had the faintest freckles high on her cheekbones that he hadn’t seen before. His fingers lightly traced the bones of her face to her hairline, which he gently pushed further back. Hidden beneath her brown tresses, her ears were the smallest he’d ever seen. He fought the urge to kiss her in that same spot she’d found on him a few months earlier in the carriage, the one that had sent waves of tingling through his limbs.
Focusing his thoughts on continuing his study of her, he let the backs of his long, slender fingers very lightly caress her cheek and trace her jaw line. Her skin was as soft as cotton and nearly as pale, but it glowed in the firelight, giving her face a warmth and a specific appeal he couldn’t pinpoint. Beauty was not something that she had to fight for, as it came naturally to her. He wondered if her sisters were nearly as pretty as she, though he doubted it. He couldn’t imagine anyone being as attractive and alluring as his Belle.
His thoughts gave him pause, realizing that more than once he’d thought of her as his. Somehow, he didn’t think she’d mind, though, and for the first time, the idea that their feelings might align didn’t frighten him. It made him hopeful.
His gaze landed on her lips, and his fingertips quickly followed, lingering there. For a long moment, he worried that he’d lost his soul to her, when he wanted nothing more than to kiss her, the consequences be damned. He’d never initiated a kiss, not even with Charlotte. In hindsight, his former wife had probably been more woman than he could handle at such a young age, and she was far more experienced. He wasn’t sure about Belle’s experience, though he imagined that she must have kissed Gaston at some point, since they were supposed to get married before Rumpelstiltskin interfered. And she’d been the one to initiate their one kiss. But was it wise? He suddenly didn’t seem to care, and that scared him. Still, he found that he was leaning in closer, unable to stop himself.
Just once more, he thought, closing his eyes. Fear had kept him paralyzed for far too long, but now, it was love that guided him to draw close to her face and place the lightest of feather-kisses on her full lips.
Nothing happened. He didn’t change or lose his power, but it made sense that she would have to be involved in a kiss proving her true love in order to transform him.
In her sleep, she took a deep breath, making her head tilt back further into a much more irresistible position. But he couldn’t allow the temptation to win; he might so enjoy kissing her that she’d awaken and kiss him back and then he would no longer have his power. Instead, he purposefully stood and lifted her in his arms to carry her to her bed.
Belle never stirred in each instance before, when he gently put her in her bed, but this time she did, grasping at his sleeves to keep him from standing up. She was still halfway toward sleep when she spoke his name, and in the next second, when she rested her head on the pillow and closed her eyes, she said quietly, “I love you.”
Her breaths were immediately deep enough to confirm that she was asleep, so it seemed no harm for him to react the way he wanted to, falling to his knees at her bedside, holding her hand in both of his in total awe. “Oh, Belle,” he whispered so as not to wake her again, kissing the back of her hand with a bowed head. “My dear, sweet Belle. I love you, too, precious,” he softly voiced, tearfully realizing in the moment that it was true, from the depths of his heart. He planted yet another feather-light kiss in the same spot. “Someday we'll be free to share our love...”
He only hoped that “someday” would come quickly. But he couldn't love Belle and lose his power with the Dark Curse out there, waiting to be initiated and separate them forever. Their love could only be shared on the other side of it, in the next world, and he'd need his power and the cure to keep from losing her. His need to find that wand had just compounded a hundredfold. He needed this over and done with, as soon as possible, to move on to his forever, with Belle by his side.
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Reviews are love! :D
Summary: What if Belle had refused to leave Rumpel’s castle, knowing she’d be rejected at home?
A/N: Hopefully the fluffiness of this chapter will make up for my long absence. :P No spoilers for this one.
So many thanks for all of the reviews and favoriting of this story! You guys are just too awesome for words. :)
Thanks again to TrueLove'sMiss for the fabulous beta!
And enjoy!
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Link to previous chapters: Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, and Chapter 6
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Chapter 7:
Belle was serving tea one afternoon, when Rumpelstiltskin recalled the first time she'd done the same task. Startled by his sick joke, she'd dropped one of the cups that time, chipping it, which was one of his fonder memories of her since she'd come to the Dark Castle. It was then he realized she'd been there a full year. It hadn't seemed so long, yet it sometimes felt as though she'd been there forever. How had he'd lived before Belle?
Alone, he reflected. Alone and unloved. Things had definitely changed since then; her blush when their eyes met or their hands touched proved that her love for him was true. It moved him in a way he'd never been blessed; the only unconditional love he'd had before was with his son, though even Bae had left when he couldn't bear with Rumpelstiltskin's power.
But Belle... She was different, loving him in spite of his power, drawing out the human nature he'd buried so deep and forgotten. He'd noticed that his voice even dropped in pitch when it was just the two of them, though that had begun so early on that he couldn't exactly pinpoint when he'd stopped being a monster around her; he decided it was probably when she told him that she didn't believe he was. He'd figured there was no point in continuing on with the nonsense if she wasn't going to believe it.
A year, he thought again as she stirred a little cream into his tea the way he'd grown to like it. He purposely met her eyes and held her gaze, his hand reaching out to grasp his cup and brush his fingers against hers.
Belle quickly pulled her hand back and held it against her skirt, wiping it against the cloth of her apron as if to rub the feeling of his touch off of her. He watched her curiously, hoping again she wasn't repulsed by him and finding it unlikely by the color in her cheeks. She gestured toward the rest of the house. “I need to get an early start on dinner. I'm making a roast.”
“Sounds lovely,” he said, a bit distracted by a slight quiver in her voice.
She curtsied and hurried from the room, when he had an idea. He went to his mirror, uncovered it, and demanded that it show Belle. She was practically running from the dining room, her steps quick all the way to the kitchen, where she closed the door and leaned against it, putting her hand over her heart. “Oh...” she breathed heavily, trying to calm herself. “Rumpelstiltskin,” she whispered, “if only you knew what you do to me.”
His heart jumped in his chest, and he watched only long enough to note that she calmed enough to pull away from the door and get to work on the evening meal. He covered the mirror again, and held his hand over his own fast-beating heart as he returned to his chair at the table. If only she knew what she did to me, he thought, closing his eyes, leaning his head back against the tall back of the chair. She truly did love him, wholly and unconditionally. Now it was up to him to convince her that it wasn't a feeling that was one-sided.
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Grumpy came to see him again the next week, asking for his help to free James from his prison, though he wasn't accompanied by his fair friend this time. Snow wasn't as interested in seeking Rumpelstiltskin's help again, knowing the price that should come with it, regardless of his previous generosity, not asking for anything more. Rumpelstiltskin knew that if she had come, he'd give her whatever was she needed, but this was better. He had to keep his reputation for being the Dark One who dealt only in dark deals.
For the first time, he was at a loss for a suitable payment for the invisible cloak he gave to Grumpy so that he could sneak into King George's dungeon and free James. But he knew that wouldn't do, when he had a thought. “You work in a diamond mine,” Rumpelstiltskin bent his finger toward the dwarf. He'd been considering all week that Belle needed some kind of gift to acknowledge her year spent with him, deciding that he could fashion something out of the gold he had at his fingertips. A diamond would add that much more to it.
Grumpy frowned. “Yeah. So?”
“Well, you see...” he began to pace, “precious gems are hard to come by. I can't just snap my fingers and make them appear,” he said with the flair of acting out what he was saying. “I have to get them the same way as everyone else.”
Grumpy's eyebrows were suddenly crooked. “And you need a diamond? What for?”
“Ah!” he chastised, spinning on his heel to face him again. “That's my business.” He pointed to the dwarf. “It's simple,” he said with his usual sneer. “Bring me a diamond, and I'll give you the cloak.”
“It's not that easy,” Grumpy complained with a shake of his head. “I'll get in trouble if I take one from the mine. If I get caught--”
“You won't,” the imp promised, staring at him until Grumpy understood that he would make sure of that by way of his magic.
“So, I just bring you a diamond...”
Rumpelstiltskin's head shook as he boasted merrily, “It's as easy as that!”
Assured that he wouldn't be caught, Grumpy hurried away from the Dark Castle to complete his quest. Twenty-four hours later, he was back, and held out a two-inch-long, cylindrical diamond he dropped out of a felt pouch from around his neck. “It was the best I could do,” he vowed. “Hope it's what you were looking for.”
“It's perfect,” Rumpelstiltskin proclaimed as he stared at it the gem, until he noticed Grumpy's frown and realized he might be acting out of character. He snapped, the diamond was gone, and the cloak appeared in his hand, which he passed to the dwarf. “Your cloak.” He also unrolled a magic map, and pointed to a spot on it. “You must enter the castle here,” he instructed, “at midnight. Any sooner or later, and you'll be caught.”
“I understand,” Grumpy swore, taking the map he offered too. Then he did something Rumpelstiltskin wasn't expecting, and said, “Thank you.”
Shocked by the sincere gesture of gratitude for his help that no one had ever offered before, Rumpelstiltskin stood mute as the dwarf left the hall and hurried out of the massive front doors. Perhaps he was losing his reputation of a mean-spirited imp after all. He couldn't let that happen just yet. He would have to think of more costly trades for his deals.
But for now, he was satisfied for what he'd bargained. He opened his hand and the diamond was again in his palm. It was an odd shape, but he could turn it into something special for Belle.
Closing his fingers around it again, he hurried up to his tower to get to work.
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Belle was washing dishes in the kitchen after dinner when he found her. He held the gift in his hand, unsure why he hadn't been able to give it to her earlier in the day, though he deduced that it was just the same nervousness he was feeling now. It had been burning a whole in his pocket all day, and with it currently in his hand, he felt as though it was the object that was making him perspire and not the pounding of his own heart.
Nothing had changed since their fight some weeks earlier, except his inner scrutiny and his belief that she was right, and his plan could work to bring them together in the end. He stood in the doorway, chiding himself for hesitating, knowing she could accept a simple gift without expecting her to feel any differently about him. It was most likely that she would see it just as the kind of friendly gift he wanted it to be, but inside...he knew that it was coming from a much deeper place than one of friendship. His nerves under control, he forcefully walked into the kitchen to get the task over with...but every step felt like he was crumbling inside. If only she knew what power she held over him, she could render him useless. He'd have to be careful that that didn't happen, and he supposed, as long as held his own dagger and didn't allow her to kiss him, he would. Even if just the sight of her brown curls bouncing on her back as she worked compelled him to want to lose his power in what would be the most exhilarating of kisses.
Clearing his throat to shake the desire to kiss her again, he got her attention. “Oh,” she exclaimed when she saw him standing a few feet behind her. “I'm sorry; I didn't know you were looking for me.” She quickly shook the water off her hands and dried them on her apron. “I was daydreaming, I suppose,” she offered a timid smile. “Is there something you need?”
What he needed didn't seem to matter in the moment; it was what he wanted that he couldn't yet voice or act upon.
“I have something for you,” he seemed to manage. He took a few steps closer and reached out with his arm, his fist closed around the object. “Hold out your hand,” he softly commanded, and she did as was told. “To commemorate the year you've spent here.” He gently handed her what he'd made and watched as she looked down and gasped in delighted surprise.
“Oh...Rumpelstiltskin,” she mouthed breathlessly, unfolding the gold to find that it was a chain with an inch-long diamond that hung from it. She marveled at the clarity of the stone - almost perfectly clear enough to see through - and the way it was mounted and hung from one end like an icicle. “It's beautiful,” she said, knowing the word wasn't nearly adequate enough to declare what she thought of it.
He'd only used a portion of the diamond Grumpy had brought to him, deciding to save some of it for another occasion - or even a potion or spell, if the need for it arose, which it did on occasion. He carefully lifted the necklace from her palm and walked around her to fix it to her neck, but wasn't prepared for the blended fragrance of flowers that wafted from Belle's hair when she lifted it to allow him to do so. It hit his nose like a wave, and for a several breaths after the necklace was secured, he closed his eyes and inhaled her unique scent.
Belle turned when she felt the weight of the jewelry and caught him with his hand in her hair, his eyes closed in enjoyment, for just a moment before he opened them and pretended all was as it used to be. She smiled, her heart leaping into her throat, thankful that she was beginning to notice such little things that proved that everything between them had indeed changed. She chanced reaching up to touch his face, and then she leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek.
Rumpelstiltskin had seen her coming and froze with his eyes wide-open, watching her to make sure she didn't aim for his lips. But when the warmth of her breath reached his cheek, he let his lids drift closed again, dreaming for that moment that what they had was so much more.
Keeping her face close to his, she told him quietly, “Thank you for the gift, but...you should know by now that I don't need anything from you but your...” she stopped and amended her statement. “Y-your kindness is enough.” She picked up the diamond pendant and rolled it between her fingers. “But...I do love it.”
He nodded stiffly. “I'm glad.”
The awkward moment making him uncomfortable, he skirted around her to head for the door.
“Rumpelstiltskin,” she called out, causing him to stop and look back at her. She held the diamond between her fingers. “I've had a good year...here.”
“No complaints, then?”
“Well,” she smirked, casually taking a few steps closer to him, “I do wish you'd trust me a bit more. But on the whole, you've been good to me, much better than I expected when I left my father's house with you.”
He nodded, his mind unable to come up with anything appropriate to say.
“I never expected a gift from you.” He glanced up at her and saw that she was again fingering the diamond and staring at it.
“Then we're nearly even,” he heard his voice speaking, seemingly unable to stop himself. “I never expected your love.”
He left the room when he saw her mouth drop open. And he reprimanded himself - whether for leaving too soon or for admitting so much, it didn't matter - all the way up to his tower to spin.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The winter seemed to be dragging on, Belle thought, as she was running out of ideas to keep her hands busy throughout the long days. The castle was spotless and easy to clean, taking only an hour or so of each day to tidy up, and a few hours each week to dust. It seemed like the dust was the hardest to keep up with, as laundering their clothing and bed-linens only took a couple of hours each week. Cooking was the only daily chore, so, many days, in those long and seemingly endless afternoon hours, Belle wandered around with nothing to do. Reading seemed to be her only refuge from the time and loneliness, as Rumpelstiltskin still seemed to be avoiding her.
She'd read everything within reach in the library by the time March rolled around, and was considering what books she had left that were too high up. Multiple ladders around the room and balconies at the second-floor level made it easier, but she was sure the room was designed by a man, for men, as some of the shelves were simply too far out of reach for Belle.
Alas, her willpower was far too strong to let her mind and hands be idle, so she ventured up the tall ladder toward a particular book that intrigued her. She was up on the highest rung, holding onto a shelf's edge as an anchor, and stretching as far as she could when Rumpelstiltskin came in the room.
“Please...do not fall,” he softly commanded as his way of announcing his presence.
Belle stopped reaching for the book to hold onto the shelves with both hands and look down at him with a pleased smile. “Well, now that you're here to catch me...”
He crossed his arms. “And if I hadn't come into the room at this very moment, would you be as careless?”
“Perhaps,” she shrugged and laughed, enjoying their banter. She sobered until her lips were merely smiling. “I didn't know you were home.”
He softened a bit. “Don't move; I'll help you down.”
She was surprised when he deftly climbed the ladder to stand behind her, his shoes one rung below hers, and he wrapped his arm snugly about her waist. Belle's breath caught in her throat, and she found it difficult to breathe, yet, she knew it wasn't because he was squeezing her too tightly. His tender touch alone was the only reason for her body's reaction.
“Hold here,” he pointed to a shelf lower than the one her hands were gripping, “and step down, very slowly, one rung at a time.”
She could have argued that she'd gotten up there by herself and could manage getting down the same way, but there was something about the way he was caring for her that made her mute. Instead, she did as she was told, moving at a snail's pace, as if prolonging the enjoyment of his nearness that would be gone the minute he was sure she could manage on her own.
Step by step, they descended the ladder together until she had both hands on the long sides. He checked to make sure she was okay and then continued the rest of the way to the floor alone. He went on giving her instructions as she came down after him, even as she managed it with ease...until her foot slipped on the last rung closest to the floor. She fell back into his arms in the same position she'd been in at the top of the ladder, with his arm around her waist. “Oops,” she mouthed, feeling silly for so slight a mistake, trying to ignore the way her heart was pounding so fiercely that she was certain he could hear it. She took a breath to calm herself, but it didn't work when she noticed he didn't remove his arm from her waist.
“And that's why I helped you down,” he declared.
“You know how clumsy I am,” she agreed, resting her arm on his, leaning back against him as he put his lips to her ear.
“You must promise never to put yourself in that kind of danger again,” he whispered, his voice a touch harsh.
Belle was so struck by his warm breath on her ear that she would've agreed to anything just to keep him there, even though the directness of his tone frightened her a little. She nodded, still unable to speak, only slightly curious for his warning. Wasn't he a wizard who could prevent accidents, protect her from injuries, or heal them once they occurred? It seemed it would be so easy a task for one with his power. Why did he care if she was in danger?
He didn't move his lips from her ear, nor his hand from around her waist, though his voice did soften. “Which book were you reaching for?”
It occurred to her after a moment that he'd asked a question that required an answer, and she opened her eyes to look up - somewhat dazed - at the shelves above the ladder. “Gold book, red stripes on the spine, well worn.”
He snapped his fingers, and she saw the book was missing from the shelf and was now in his free hand. “This one?”
“Yes,” she managed, lifting her head from his shoulder to stand on her own strength. She reached for the book and turned slightly toward him as he gradually released his hold on her waist. “Thank you.”
“You're welcome, miss. Now, please, heed my warning. If ever you have need of something out of reach, I'd rather you call for me to help you.”
She shook the haziness of their closeness from her mind. “But...I never know if you're out or gone... If you're up in your tower in the west wing, I'm not allowed to go in search of you. I don't think you'd like me to stand at the bottom of the stairs and bellow for you.”
“Indeed not,” he agreed, pursing his lips. “Whether I'm home or away, you need only to speak my name three times to summon me.”
“That's it?” she asked, and he nodded. She wondered, “Is that all anyone has to do to speak with you?”
“Yes, though there are more well-known ways amongst the people. If everyone knew how easy it was to summon the Dark One, I would not rest at'all.”
“My father summoned you by letter,” she thought aloud.
“Yes, that's one way,” he bobbed his head once. “There is also a rock across our river that need only to be struck twice and a candle in a specific tree that could be lit...” He shrugged, “Different groups circulate different myths, and all of them work to acquire my attention.”
“Who else knows the method of merely calling your name thrice?”
His voice was quiet. “You're the first, dearie.”
Belle inhaled sharply, knowing his sharing that secret with her was a big step toward an intimacy for which she hadn't dared hope in weeks. He seemed a bit restless in the moment, and she knew he was most likely looking for an appropriate time to escape the tenseness between them. But she didn't want it to end and have him leave her with her loneliness again.
She cleared her throat, holding out the book. “I was just going to read for an hour or so before I start on dinner. If you're not busy, would you…care to join me? I could read aloud.”
Having nowhere to go and no task before him, he couldn't refuse her, but since he didn't trust his own voice, he simply nodded and let her lead the way to the sofa by the fire. The wind was howling softly outside, but by the fire, it was cozy and comfortable. And with her, it was his own personal heaven.
The book she’d chosen was about a sultan and a woman and her thousand and one nights filled with stories. Rumpelstiltskin was enraptured, but not necessarily with the book or the smooth way in which Belle read. He was caught up in the movement of her lips, the shape of her mouth, and the blue of her eyes. He was so mesmerized, in fact, that when she stopped and looked up at him, he couldn’t recall what was happening in the story.
Belle closed the book and quirked her lips. “I have to start on dinner now. We could read more later this evening, if you’d like.”
“I would like that,” he found himself saying, though he wouldn’t have planned to be so impulsive.
She read for another hour after dinner before her voice got tired and she closed the book. And for the following hour, neither of them said anything, just staring at the flames in the fireplace, lost in their own thoughts.
When he was home, each evening after dinner was spent that way, and over several weeks, it became routine. Belle would read a book she’d chosen for longer periods some nights, and others, they’d stare at the fire the way they were now. After the first week, he began to tell her when he was going away and for how long, and unlike those first few trips he took, he kept his word, returning exactly when he said he would, so that she wouldn't wait in vain for him by the fire with her book. Conversations between them came easier, shared smiles became more natural, and the space between them on the couch lessened with each passing day.
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Moments by the fire increased as the weeks moved on, though Belle's reading aloud didn't seem to be the reason. Some nights she didn't even sit down with a book, yet, neither seemed to be able to move from their seats each evening, just enjoying the silence and the fire together. Oftentimes, Belle would eventually succumb to the fatigue, letting her head fall to the back of the sofa. Rumpelstiltskin would typically wait until he knew she was out before standing and lifting her in his arms and carrying her up to her room. Until one night, when he longed for more.
He'd been watching how heavy her eyelids seemed to be for a while, thinking how he should voice that she could go on to bed, but keeping silent. For some reason, he could never seem to warn her that she was getting sleepy and urge her to go upstairs to her room to sleep; instead, he just watched in awed silence, until her head fell against the pillow on the back of the tall sofa. He’d taken to watching her sleep over time, sometimes tugging the hair by the ends away from her face to see her better or straightening her skirt over her curled up feet to keep her warm. He made sure never to touch her skin, afraid that once he started, he wouldn’t be able to stop until he was powerless.
But this time was different, he realized as her cheek dropped to rest on her arm on the couch. He’d had a desire to touch her for far too long and no strength to keep his hands to himself. He wanted to just see what it felt like to love her the way she had him, and he didn’t exactly know how. It had been so long since he’d even tried, and Charlotte had held the reins in their relationship, seducing him whenever she felt like it. He’d been just as helpless then, which was probably why he feared Belle’s unselfish love. He could tell that she would wait for him to love her, and when that day came, he wouldn’t know what to do. His arm around her waist that day he'd rescued her from the ladder had been the extent of his romantic capabilities, and that had been out of sheer concern for her safety. What if she wanted more, and he didn't know how to behave?
And then there was the possible rejection to contend with. Her response to any of his advances, whether she pushed him away or asked for more, would be difficult to live with. What if he couldn’t give her more? What if his love wasn’t enough to satisfy her? Even though she swore that her feelings for him were real and that she’d love him anyway, he still felt like it was a risk. What if she was mistaken? What if what she thought was love was really just a sort of respect, the way one feared a god or some other powerful being? When he didn’t have that power anymore, she might come to think that he wasn’t good enough for her. He’d seen Gaston, who was young and handsome and much closer to what Belle deserved. Her father had chosen wisely for her, even if Belle proclaimed that Gaston had been far too superficial for her to love. He’d always thought of himself as shallow, especially since acquiring his power. How was he any different than Gaston?
She was sound asleep now, judging by the deep breaths flowing in and out of her lungs. Her stocking-covered-feet were tucked up under her skirt on her other side, her knees turned toward him. He scooted as close as he could and studied her perfect face. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever possessed, and he hadn’t expected to fall so victim to her love when he’d first acquired her. Had he known how willing he’d be to give up everything to have her, would he have made a different choice back then? Surely her father had something else of value that he could have traded for. He’d still be happy with just his power, but, of course, he’d miss out on this, her love and devotion to him, her beauty.
Slowly lifting his hand, he carefully pushed the hair away from her face to see her more clearly. Her cheek was flawless and looked so white against the contrast of his dark hands. She had the faintest freckles high on her cheekbones that he hadn’t seen before. His fingers lightly traced the bones of her face to her hairline, which he gently pushed further back. Hidden beneath her brown tresses, her ears were the smallest he’d ever seen. He fought the urge to kiss her in that same spot she’d found on him a few months earlier in the carriage, the one that had sent waves of tingling through his limbs.
Focusing his thoughts on continuing his study of her, he let the backs of his long, slender fingers very lightly caress her cheek and trace her jaw line. Her skin was as soft as cotton and nearly as pale, but it glowed in the firelight, giving her face a warmth and a specific appeal he couldn’t pinpoint. Beauty was not something that she had to fight for, as it came naturally to her. He wondered if her sisters were nearly as pretty as she, though he doubted it. He couldn’t imagine anyone being as attractive and alluring as his Belle.
His thoughts gave him pause, realizing that more than once he’d thought of her as his. Somehow, he didn’t think she’d mind, though, and for the first time, the idea that their feelings might align didn’t frighten him. It made him hopeful.
His gaze landed on her lips, and his fingertips quickly followed, lingering there. For a long moment, he worried that he’d lost his soul to her, when he wanted nothing more than to kiss her, the consequences be damned. He’d never initiated a kiss, not even with Charlotte. In hindsight, his former wife had probably been more woman than he could handle at such a young age, and she was far more experienced. He wasn’t sure about Belle’s experience, though he imagined that she must have kissed Gaston at some point, since they were supposed to get married before Rumpelstiltskin interfered. And she’d been the one to initiate their one kiss. But was it wise? He suddenly didn’t seem to care, and that scared him. Still, he found that he was leaning in closer, unable to stop himself.
Just once more, he thought, closing his eyes. Fear had kept him paralyzed for far too long, but now, it was love that guided him to draw close to her face and place the lightest of feather-kisses on her full lips.
Nothing happened. He didn’t change or lose his power, but it made sense that she would have to be involved in a kiss proving her true love in order to transform him.
In her sleep, she took a deep breath, making her head tilt back further into a much more irresistible position. But he couldn’t allow the temptation to win; he might so enjoy kissing her that she’d awaken and kiss him back and then he would no longer have his power. Instead, he purposefully stood and lifted her in his arms to carry her to her bed.
Belle never stirred in each instance before, when he gently put her in her bed, but this time she did, grasping at his sleeves to keep him from standing up. She was still halfway toward sleep when she spoke his name, and in the next second, when she rested her head on the pillow and closed her eyes, she said quietly, “I love you.”
Her breaths were immediately deep enough to confirm that she was asleep, so it seemed no harm for him to react the way he wanted to, falling to his knees at her bedside, holding her hand in both of his in total awe. “Oh, Belle,” he whispered so as not to wake her again, kissing the back of her hand with a bowed head. “My dear, sweet Belle. I love you, too, precious,” he softly voiced, tearfully realizing in the moment that it was true, from the depths of his heart. He planted yet another feather-light kiss in the same spot. “Someday we'll be free to share our love...”
He only hoped that “someday” would come quickly. But he couldn't love Belle and lose his power with the Dark Curse out there, waiting to be initiated and separate them forever. Their love could only be shared on the other side of it, in the next world, and he'd need his power and the cure to keep from losing her. His need to find that wand had just compounded a hundredfold. He needed this over and done with, as soon as possible, to move on to his forever, with Belle by his side.
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