Their Business
By: RosexKnight
Anon Prompt: a sort of a prompt for "Another" if you like it : does colette ever visit belle at the dark castle or write her asking for any possible grandchildren on the way?
Life in The Dark Castle had settled into normalcy. Well, as normal as life in The Dark Castle could be. Mornings were spent eating breakfast if not in bed, and in the afternoon tea and lunch. Belle continued to clean the castle, though Rumpelstiltskin often grumbled at the idea. After all, thanks to her mother she was the lady of the castle now. Not that he minded that too much.
Her mother had insisted on writing Belle. At least that's what he'd said the next time she'd summoned him. He had a feeling she's just one so to annoy him.
"I trust you won't summon me frivolously all the time, dearie." He'd grumbled when he appeared to her, somewhere out in the stables.
"Are you calling a mother's worry frivolous?" She retorted, crossing her arms and dawning the look of a disappointed mother. "How is my daughter doing?"
Rumpelstiltskin wrinkled his nose. "She's currently stinking up my kitchen with preparation of some horrid-looking grey stuff."
"It's delicious." Colette said with a smile. "I summoned you because there is a matter we must discuss."
"And that would be?"
Colette gave the spinner a frown. "The matter of me seeing my daughter."
"It hasn't even been a month since the wedding. You're disturbing my honeymoon, in fact."
"Yes I know and you can get back to it but I must know if I shall be allowed to visit. Or if she will be allowed to come here and visit."
"Well that's up to her isn't it, Dearie?" Rumple's said with a giggle, but his smile faded when he saw Colette's features were contorted to another look of motherly disapproval, but this time with a bit of sadness behind her eyes. How was it that this woman could give him a look that made him feel as if he were a damn child again? "I'll tell you what. I'll give you something to ease your mind and stop your incessant worrying."
"And what's that?"
The Dark One waved his hand, and a small bird appeared, looking at Colette curiously. The bird itself resembled a small Pigeon, but it's feathers were laced with gold and something told her there was magic about it. She gave Rumpelstiltskin a skeptical look, but reached out nonetheless, and the bird happily flitted into her hand.
"A courier." He giggled. "Just write a letter to Belle, and this little one will deliver it without fail. You two can talk about whatever mothers and daughters do. Visits and braiding hair-"
"And grandchildren?"
His body went rigid and he looked to Colette. He wasn't sure what his own expression was, something of a glare he hoped, but she just gave him a knowing smile. Yep. He still hated her.
"This ones on the house." He grumbled. "Call it a wedding present. Goodbye, Lady Colette."
"Goodbye, Rumple."
And with a puff of purple smoke he'd been back home, grumbling as he moved back to the kitchen, where Belle was spreading the grey stuff over freshly baked bread. When she saw him she dropped what she was doing, looking as if she wanted to rush to him, but he stilled her with the raise of his hand.
"Your mother is fine, my dear." He said, approaching her "She merely wanted a way to ease her worry. She'll be writing you soon."
"Good." Belle breathed, resuming her work of preparations for the tea, ignoring the look of skepticism her husband was giving the bread, even as Belle licked the grey stuff from the knife. "She was well?"
"Well enough to drive me as crazy as she always does." He said with a shrug. "And our tea?"
"Almost ready. Try a slice of the bread and tell me what you think? It's my first time preparing this on my own."
He would have said no. Belle wasn't the best of cooks, and he recalled having to grin and bear it with a few of her dishes before. But she was also not the worst of cooks, and could make dishes that rivaled any finer chef he'd had deals with. The bread looked fine, but the grey later that covered the top did not, and if it were not for the look she gave him with those big blue eyes he would have declined.
So it was, with hesitant hands, that The Dark One tried the grey stuff, his eyes widening to Belle's delight. It was delicious.
Oh how he hated that woman.
The Dark One had never mentioned her mother's "grandchildren" comment to Belle. He'd all but forgotten about it; buried deep in the recesses of his mind somewhere for another day. It wasn't that he was against the idea of children. He was just...afraid? No, no. The Dark One did not get "afraid." He was merely thinking of Belle. Yes. That was it.
His thoughts were on his preparations on the curse he needed to cast to find his son, but also on his new bride and fulfilling her...needs. He dressed her as the lady of The Dark Castle should, in fine silk and gold dresses that made her glow. He took to bringing her along with him on a few deals when he decided gifts were not enough for her, much to her delight. He'd never grow tired of the wonder in her eyes as she studied the new lands, trying to take it all in. All the while the bird flitted back and forth between Belle and her mother as they write about things Rumpelstiltskin never asked about. Matters among women were private. Any good man knew that. Yes this suited him just fine.
It was safe to say children were the last thing on his mind until one day he came home with a puff of smoke.
"I'm back my lady." He announced cheerfully, a red rose in his hand. "The Queen sends her best. Well, the best she can at least."
He turned to see Belle at the table, an open envelope and letter to the side of her, face buried in her hands.
"Belle?" He asked, rushing to her side. He glanced to the letter. "What's the matter?"
"I'm alright." She said, running her hands over her face to reveal a deep flush had taken it. "It's just my mother."
"What happened?"
"Nothing she's..." Somehow the flush became a deeper shade of red. "She's asking about things."
"Things?"
"How we are and...grandchildren."
The Dark One's body froze, and a quiver of something far too close to fear welled up inside him. He looked to Belle, who only glanced at him. The word hung in the air between them. Children. That's what married couples did was it not? It was so long that he almost didn't remember. Finally the silence became too much, and he cleared his throat.
"What will you reply?"
That wasn't the question he wanted to ask, but all the others caught in his throat and wouldn't leave. He couldn't say it. Thankfully, blessedly, Belle understood. She was still. So still for a moment Rumpelstiltskin didn't think she'd ever reply. Finally, she nodded her head, as if she'd decided something on her own.
"I suppose I'll tell her it's not happening anytime soon." Belle said quietly, beginning to fold up the note.
Something about her tone killed him. His face fell and his shoulders grew slack. He couldn't bear it, and caught her hand as she moved away.
"Belle." He said quietly, coaxing her to sit back down, this time in his lap. Where he could wrap his arm around her and she could bury her face in the crook of his neck.
"I'm fine." She said again, trying to feel more certain. "Mama simply startled me with her question, that's all."
That woman. Rumpelstiltskin would be sure to give her an earful but for now he had a wife to...figure out. Because even now, he didn't understand Belle.
"You want…children." He said, the words coming slowly. It was almost hard to say them.
"Don't you?" She asked, volleying the question right back towards him. "I...I assumed you didn't. Because your son..."
Rumpelstiltskin held her tighter, stroking her hair. "Belle. My sweet, perfect, lovely Belle..." He cooed to her, and felt her relax. "You thought I wouldn't want children with you?"
"Well..." Belle's voice trailed off. "Do you?"
The words fell from him before he could think about it. Because he truly was afraid, and he had to accept it. "I don't know."
Belle nodded. But there was no sadness in her eyes when she looked at him. Even her tone was lighter. "What shall I tell my mother then?"
Rumpelstiltskin's lips quirked, and pulled his wife in for a kiss. Soft and tender but with so much passion and almost hunger underneath. He stood then, scooping her up in his arms and giggling at her squeal. In that moment, with Belle in his arms, and he in hers, lips locked and fires of a feeling he had not felt in far too long, the spinner decided that perhaps children would not be so bad. And he'd do much more than just tell her of his decision.
"Tell her..." His voice was playful, the sing-song of it bubbling up as he opened the door to their bedroom with the wave of his hand. "That its none of her business. "