Author's Notes: You know one of those ideas that sit in your head for weeks and you finally write them down and you think they're just tolerable? Well, yay! This is one of those pieces! Again, bless all you readers and especially you readers who actually comment...makes me so happy! :)
Anyway, I went to the beach. My little bro mentioned what it would be like if Belle and Rumple went to the beach together and of course I grab the idea and pump it full of as much fluff and detail as my little mind can create and, viola! This is what you get! So, thanks again, all! Enjoy!
A Sunset by the Seaside
Belle sat under one of the tall windows in a pool of daylight, her lap full of silverware and her hands full of polishing rags. Blinking against the strong, acrid smell, she rubbed and rubbed at dull knives, blunt forks and stained spoons. It was one of those odd little jobs she really didn't have to do, but might as well since there was really nothing else to do.
It had been very quiet in the Dark Castle. Rumplestilstkin, her eccentric master, had locked himself inside his laboratory for several days now, not eating and probably not sleeping. When he was excited about an important deal or a new advance in his research he often forgot physical needs, especially since he was apparently immortal and not as responsive as others were to the pangs of hunger or the sickly, trembling feeling of fatigue.
In the meantime, Belle had swept every floor in the East Wing and wiped every window. She'd organized every bolt of fabric, every bit of tableware, and every pile of knick-knacks that Rumplestiltskin was constantly leaving about. Now she was down to polishing the silverware they never used. She could start on the West Wing, but really, she wasn't just bored. She was tired. She was tired of working and bored without any sarcastic, witty conversation to pass between her odd, sometimes terrifying master and herself.
The edge of a cutlery knife dug into her thumb as she tightened her grip on it thoughtlessly. With a slight hiss of pain, she dropped it with a clink into the pile of silverware and sucked the injured spot.
Suddenly, she felt him.
Silent and magical as he was, the Dark One thought it a marvelous game to sneak up on his maid and scare the ever living daylights out of her. She would shriek, he'd grin with all the self-satisfaction of a smug little Imp, and then they'd end up arguing back and forth about nonsense.
But Belle had learned to sense changes in the air, an electrical current that she noticed always followed the Dark One, swirling through the air like the thoughtless touch of immeasurable power. It made the hairs on her skin stand up and her blue eyes would snap from corner to corner to detect the disturbance. And it was always him.
Trying not to smile, she called out, "so you're finally out and about, sir?"
The feeling trembled and then faded into nothingness as Rumplestiltskin's pointy leather boots stepped out in front of her. She looked up and smiled innocently, trying not to let him see how proud of herself she was.
He scowled a moment before waving his arm in a dismissive gesture. The frown gave way to that theatrical energy, that animated look he usually wore when talking about his projects. "Indeed I am. I'll be going even farther, however, and for quite a while's longer."
Belle's smile fell despite her attempts to stop it. He was going away on a journey again, a long journey. She'd be left here all alone in this dark, friendless castle with nothing to do but clean and then clean some more, trying to sweep away her loneliness and wash away her abandonment. It didn't work.
It was at those times, with nothing to look forward to and nothing to fear from her master, that the memories of warm, sunlit gardens, childhood playmates, friendly faces, silken dresses, her Papa, her library…these grew stronger, glowing brighter and brighter before her eyes until she simply couldn't bear it anymore. Then, once she'd curled up in some dark corner where no one could see her…then she didn't have to be the strong hero anymore. Then she could cry.
A touch brought her out of her thoughts. With the tiniest jolt of surprise, she realized her master's scaly fingers had brushed her hair softly, if just to get her attention. Rumplestiltskin never touched. She'd never felt his skin on hers. Even to just touch her hair…she looked up. His face hadn't changed, lips screwed in a mocking smile and parted ever so slightly, ready to spew out hundreds of more useless words, but his eyes…did she imagine it?…his eyes seemed clearer, less diluted by film. They were closer to chocolate brown now and the gold flecks were so tiny as not to be noticed.
"Ahem. Pay attention, girl! I'm going off on another deal, ah, to get sea squid ink from a mermaid."
"Mermaid?" Wonder and excitement flashed in her face as Belle tried to imagine what those fabled creatures would look like. Back home, she hadn't had many books on the subject. "What…what do they look like?"
Rumplestiltskin smirked at her, but his eyes were wide and amused by her eagerness. "More beautiful than the likes of you could imagine," he sneered, slapping his hands together like a smug little boy. He giggled aloud, turning on one heel and beginning to stride away. "And you're just my servant girl. I'm not going to tell you…"
"Well, that's nice!" Belle felt a prickling, hot sensation creep up her neck and cheeks. She was angry again. Many people in her life had made her angry, but few did it as exquisitely as Rumplestiltskin.
As she began to shout her outrage at him, he turned and raised a sharp, silencing finger. "Eh!"
Belle reluctantly snapped her mouth shut. She found it best to let him speak and use up all his fine words and grandiose gestures before an argument began. Otherwise he would huff away like an unappreciated actor. And this time, Belle wanted him to stay right where he was so she could tell him exactly what she thought of him.
Rumplestiltskin pointed both his fingers at her and gave off a quiet giggle, his voice high and eyes sparkling with suppressed excitement. "I said, I'm not going to tell you…" he waved his hand suddenly in a violent wiping motion. The silverware in Belle's lap shimmered slightly before being swallowed by a purple cloud that afterwards disappeared. "You're going to have a chance to see for yourself!"
At Belle's shocked, questioning stare, he broke into a sharper squeal of giggles, his voice breaking on the insane octave. "Nyhehehee…"
The red tip of Belle's open mouth began to pull into a happy, surprised smile. "The seashore? I can collect shells and hear the sea birds again and maybe go in the water…"
Rumplestiltskin's face darkened instantly and he sneered down at her. "Don't get your hopes up, Missy. There's a reason I want my maid on this trip. You simply won't have time for swimming, unfortunately."
"If you really must play with death like this, at least wear something practical!" Rumplestiltskin growled, grabbing Belle's upper arm and halting her in mid-charge towards the swelling surf.
Belle turned gently in his grasp, at the same time pulling her arm away. Her master had tried, with extraordinary effort, to keep Belle busy. He'd given her all sorts of ridiculous tasks, from shining his boots to gathering seaweed to chasing away seagulls. Eventually, however, Belle had pointed out that there was nothing he couldn't really do himself with his magic and, furthermore, as this was her first and possibly only vacation, she should be allowed to enjoy it as she chose.
"Something practical?" Belle gestured down to her puffy white petticoats and bare feet covered with dry, warm sand. Rumplestiltskin hadn't blushed or looked away when she appeared from behind the rocks dressed in only her white, lacey undergarments. He seemed to think it was a second dress she'd pulled out of her bag, not the sub layers of her traveling-gown, the large, somewhat ornate dress she'd never used until now.
Funny how, once she finally did have reason to wear it, the under garments was the more useful part.
"Yes, practical," Rumplestiltskin sneered through his teeth, imitating her in a childish manner. He pointed at her, his fingers stretching every which way as his wrist turned sharply. Purple smoke billowed out of the air and surrounded her a moment.
Suddenly, something warm and almost…elastic…stretched gently over her skin. She looked down at herself as the smoke faded away and saw a wondrous dress that came down only to her knees, attached to a pair of breeches of the same material. The sleeves ended just above her elbows. But its most astounding quality was the color. Each garment held an oceanic spectrum, blue at one end and green at the other, shimmering with all the gold and red of sunbeams on the water and the frosty white of sea-foam. She couldn't help her little gasp of delight.
Rumplestiltskin smirked proudly. Her master clapped his hands together, pleased with himself. "What you're wearing, missy, is my own imitation of the spun cloth of the mermaids. Warm in any water, loose enough to let the water flow along your skin, and tight enough to keep the sand out of…well, nyehehehe…" he trailed off nervously.
Belle ran the palm of her hands along it. Going down, it was smooth and pleasant. Going up, it was prickly and sharp. Much like her master's scales. She looked up at him and smiled. "Thank you…it's beautiful."
Rumplestiltskin ran his fingers together nervously, bringing his right hand up almost as if to cover his face, and giggled again.
Belle rolled her eyes and turned, taking the first few eager, plodding steps down the beach towards the water.
"Eh…" her master's voice stopped her again. "The water here…it's not even water. It's storming. Crashing. Roaring hungrily, wouldn't you say? Why don't you swim in the mermaid cove? Nice and quiet there."
"Too quiet!" Belle looked back at him, happily scolding her master, "Why sir, you should know…mermaids would pull young girls like me under the water without a second thought...and it wouldn't be to kiss me!"
Rumplestiltskin's gold-flecked eyes looked slightly embarrassed, but he shifted from one foot to the other, casting a distrustful look at the ocean.
Belle shook her head. If she didn't know any better, she'd think he was actually worried about her safety. "I'll be fine!" she called reassuringly over her shoulder, meeting his eyes one more time before beginning to walk down the beach again, "go to the mermaid cove, complete your business, and I'll be done by the time you come back!"
She came to the edge of the water, a shiver running up her body as her foot met the cold, wet sand. The water rolled up towards her ankles and she braced herself. As usual, it was never enough. Hands clenched, muscles tense, she let out a delicious shriek.
On the shore, Rumplestiltskin nearly lost his balance and fell. Seeing she wasn't in any danger, he crossed his arms and sulked, glaring at her. He watched her shriek and flounder some more as her body adjusted to the cold. One time it sounded more like a squeak than any other human sound and something like fond amusement sparkled in his eyes. As her chestnut hair bobbed in the waves, slowly getting farther and farther away, he grew tense and watched her carefully. She began to come against the biggest waves, the ones that hadn't had time to grow any foam yet and were just big blue and green slaps of water four feet high, with nothing behind them but endless, bottomless ocean. He began to play nervously with the leather spikes on his coat and began pacing some steps to the right.
Suddenly, the chestnut hair disappeared.
Rumplestiltskin halted.
Belle held her breath, cheeks puffing out, eyes squeezed carefully shut as she rolled and rolled underneath the ocean surface. She'd never had such a delightful swim as this…the mermaid stuff in her swimsuit seemed to buoy her up and let her cut through the waves. True to her master's words the water seemed to massage her, rippling delightfully along her skin.
She spread her arms out and straightened her legs, ready to kick to the calm surface beyond the waves. She was a good swimmer, having had plenty of time to practice when her father took her to visit Cair Paravel every summer. The castle by the sea. Yet another thing she'd missed. This water here was a little colder and rougher, but the suit made up for that. She turned her head towards the sky and began to swim up.
Suddenly, a muffled roar broke the warm, groaning silence to her left. Water roiled against her, shoving her sideways as a whirl of bubbles tickled her face and hard things began to poke into her side…she felt scales dragging across her arm, clutching at her. Fear squeezed her heart as she realized it must be a giant fish or alligator or some other unknown sea monster. Something alive that was trying to eat her.
Panicking, she tried to kick backwards, to swim away. Her eyes snapped open underwater in time to see a flurry of leather spikes and limbs. As she lifted her arms up to protect herself, she saw a familiar pair of hands clinging to them. Rumplestiltskin! He never touches.
Her head seemed to be bursting now, her lungs starving for oxygen. She began to kick towards the surface. It was a struggle because her master was like an iron anchor, flailing in all directions but never letting go.
Finally, cold air licked her face as she broke through the surface and sucking in air. A split second later, Rumplestiltskin came up beside her, blowing water out of his nose, gasping for breath, and simultaneously trying to tell her fifty words a minute. She shook his hands wordlessly, trying to calm him down as he started to sink. Can he not swim? She asked herself, surprised. Her soft pink hands returned the pressure of his panic-stricken claws.
Luckily, she hadn't quite made it out to the depths yet before this…surprising turn of events. A large wall of water rose and, still dragging Rumplestiltskin who by now had sunken under the surface, she kicked backwards to gladly catch the crest of it.
It lifted them high and threw them down with a crash until they were tumbling and spinning like two tiny balls in a child's wooden cup. But they never let go of each other. Finally, she felt the sandy floor hit her shoulder with all the force of a human fist. Her hips and shoulders skidded painfully along the ground as she finally rolled onto the beach, gasping like a stranded fish.
The wave receded, tugging gently at her bruised limbs like a child timidly tugs at his exhausted parent, asking them for another piggyback ride, hoping against hope that they will miraculously relent.
Belle found herself lying on her belly, face to face with the Dark One. He was coughing and gasping and trying to breath all at the same time and still trying to talk to her. The result sounded like his lungs were screaming in agony. It was her turn to grab his upper arm. "Rumplestiltskin, stop! It's ok, I'm fine!" she shook him sharply, desperate to get him to calm down, "I was always fine!"
At that he stopped, his body shaking with every ragged intake of breath as he panted heavily, staring at her with wide, vulnerable eyes.
Her own pulse having died down, Belle shook her head slowly, trying not to smile at his dismay. She squeezed his wrist comfortingly. "I know how to swim, sir. You didn't have to come rescue me. Wait…" her eyebrows went up in shock, "you tried to rescue me? What…why?"
He twitched hesitantly, his entire body lunging towards her as if he wanted to gather her into his arms and never let her go, confessing every secret, fond feeling he'd ever had for her, admitting he liked her so very, very much and just wanted her safe.
Next instant, his face still wearing that voiceless, vulnerable look, he bolted up and stumbled out of the shallows as another wavelet gently slapped Belle's side. She spat out the seawater that had welled into her mouth and rushed after him as he stalked up the beach. "Rumplestiltskin! Sir!"
He half turned, still walking, to jab a sharp finger at her. His face was livid. "You're far too much trouble, you stupid, foolish girl! Next time you pull a thoughtless stunt like that I'll find some other kingdom in trouble, get some other princess to be my maid! I got the bad end of this bargain…no doubt about that!"
Even as he ranted on, she felt his magic shimmer through the air, electrifying the hairs on her arm. Suddenly, she was warm and dry. With a low rushing sound, water droplets started trickling down Rumplestiltskin's clothes like water from a duck's back. Then he was dry too, his dusky brown hair dry and fluffy.
As she quickly followed him, he turned so suddenly that she almost ran into him. He ignored her, just glaring at the water below. He turned, took a few more steps, and then wheeled around to glare at the water again. He did this once more. Finally, his eyes burning with hatred for the ocean and all other uncontrollable bodies of water, he growled, "that…that was cold."
Belle ducked her head meekly, unsure whether she was actually agreeing or just pacifying him. She watched his spindly legs start marching off again, and her spirits fell. "I am tired though…can we sit and rest a bit?"
"Rest?! Ha!" His hair whipped back as he turned his head sharply to glare at her. "Serves you right…what foolish creature wants to fight the pull of that ocean for? Be battered back and forth? You've got what you asked for, Missy! You've got what you wanted!"
He turned and walked on, his steps hard and heavy with determination like the steps of some pitiless statue. Belle's own legs began to tremble with fatigue as she struggled up the steep shore, her feet always shifting mercilessly in the slippery sand. She tripped with a muffled cry.
As if someone had cut his strings, Rumplestiltskin halted. He heard her small whimpers of discomfort, cries that would have softened a heart of stone.
Looking heavenwards, he sighed and snapped his fingers,
Two Persian rugs and a pile of woolen throws appeared on the crest of the sand dune just above, with an embroidered green and gold canopy extending over them for shade. Belle eagerly flopped onto one of the rugs, shifting a moment to get comfortable before sighing with pure relief.
Kicking sand away like a grumpy urchin, Rumplestiltskin shuffled towards her, holding a book he'd conjured up. She raised her eyebrows questioningly at him as he sat heavily on the rug beside her. He glanced at her and away again as if he didn't owe her any explanation at all. Then, after a second, he inexplicably gave her one. "You're lucky," he grumbled, "I need to brush up on mermaid lore a little…they're finicky, flighty creatures."
Belle nodded solemnly and began to say, "Yes of course, sir." But it turned into a sneeze that made her head ache. She closed her eyes and wiped her nose with the edge of her dry sleeve. Once she opened them, however, she suddenly saw a tiny bronze table, firmly secured between them with its fold-up legs embedded in the sand. On the table sat two hot cups of cocoa, their little tongues of steam curling up into the cool sea air.
She glanced at her master. Rumplestiltskin studiously avoided looking at her, but she could see the twitch in his eyelashes that meant he was watching her out of the corner of his eye.
Determined to show him she was grateful and pleased, she wriggled her bare feet together and pulled the warm throw closer about her shoulders before taking one of the cups and sipping gingerly at it. "Mmm…this cocoa is, well, it's delicious."
He didn't answer her. Instead, he turned a page without really reading it and then sipped his own cocoa in a short, businesslike manner.
Not fooled in the least, Belle smiled at her eccentric master, the man who was like a tightly wound spring of anger and selfishness, arrogance and cruelty…yet also pain. Pain and kindness, just waiting for someone to give him the chance to show it.
A seabird soared low over their heads. Its cry was piercing as an eagle's, yet also mournful, echoing over the waves as it flew, seeking who knew what. The sound filled Belle with old memories and new understanding as she listened to the ancient, lonely cry and she looked back at her master. She stroked her cup a little with her fingertips, searching for the right words. "When I was a little girl…when my mother was still alive, and we went to the seashore together during the summer…she used to tell me all sorts of stories."
Rumplestiltskin was strangely silent, without any of his usual sarcastic comebacks or arrogant disregard for what she had to say.
"She loved to swim. My old nurse said she was part mermaid…descended from them or something. And I believed her. I never loved the sea as much as Mama. Nobody did…her eyes were the same color as the water, green and gold and blue all at once. When she got angry, white fire would come up in her eyes and they would darken, like lightning over a dark ocean storm. When I was just a…a tiny little thing, I'd climb into her lap to watch her eyes change color as people talked to her. No matter how angry or sad she got, she never took it out on me. She just…she held me tight and never, never let me go."
Rumplestiltskin had forgotten to turn the pages.
"And once, we were by the sea together and I was finding bits of shells and pretty, shining rocks and piling them in her lap, when she pulled me down beside her and told me a story about sea birds. She told me how they nest only in hard, craggy rocks, and never in one place, never stay by a single shore longer than a season. She told me how they can fly forever, lost, over oceans wider than the whole world. She said that, in all this change and uncertainty, all the storms and blood red skies, only one thing stays the same, one thing the sea bird can always find…its mate. She said they can find each other across oceans, from one side of the world to the other. They can't see each other or hear each other …they just know. They always find each other."
Rumplestiltskin sniffed scornfully, staring out at the ocean, his face dark with memories of his own. Judging by his eyes, Belle could tell they weren't pleasant. "Pity same can't be said about people."
Belle shook her head at him. "Yes it can." At his continued, stubborn silence, she leaned towards him, her blue eyes wide and earnest. "You're trying to bottle True Love, you can't tell me you don't believe in it."
The bitter smile that crept up his face was painful to look at. He still didn't meet her eyes, the book lying limp and heavy in his lap. "True love is only for a special few," he replied, his voice strangely low and quiet.
Not knowing quite what to say, Belle tutted just like her old nanny had whenever Belle had said something willful or ridiculous. "Nonsense. It's for everyone, you silly."
Neither noticed that she'd forgotten to say 'Sir'.
"Oh, is that so?" He sneered at her, avoiding her point entirely, "Care to explain your betrothed?"
Without getting angry at the way he abandoned the subject, Belle did the best possible thing. She laughed. Not at him, but what he said. She leaned towards him, resting her chin coquettishly on her shoulder as she lifted her cocoa up in a grateful salute. "Gaston's not here now, is he?"
Something warm and fuzzy snuggled into his chest as he stared down at her, not quite smiling but feeling a strong, beautiful gratitude all his own glowing in his heart. He was glad she was here, glad she spoke to him and snapped at him and laughed at him, glad she pushed him when she could and stepped back when she shouldn't. Glad she had chestnut hair and smiling lips and eyes the color of a rain washed sky. Glad that she would be with him forever, as she'd promised.
Not receiving an answer, Belle blew on her cocoa although it wasn't really that hot anymore. She made an amusingly wry face at it. "I don't suppose you could slip some more milk into mine?"
He muttered something about her frivolity, but her cocoa did turn into a lighter, milky brown. She turned and watched him take a sip of his own chocolate. "You take yours dark, then?"
"I take everything dark." He growled, watching the clouds move over the sun as it got lower.
Belle smiled knowingly, "That's because you're so bored with food, being so old and everything, that you never try anything new." Rumplestiltskin's face told her she was right. Her eyes sparkled, pleased with her insight. "Here, take a sip of mine." Easily, full of confidence, she gently pushed her cup towards his chin.
He resisted the strong urge to push the thing away. The book lay open and forgotten on his lap. A second's hesitation, a quick, searching glance into her face, and his sudden suspicion was replaced by trust. He reluctantly took the cup, his fingers brushing hers. Instantly, something more electric than any magic he'd ever felt in his entire life thrilled up his arm and mingled with the warm, fuzzy thing in his chest, the comfortable longing in his stomach.
His face still masked, he took a sip of the cocoa, finding it hard to swallow under the searching gaze of those big blue eyes.
"Well?" Belle asked, leaning towards him as he simultaneously leaned away defensively. He was going to say something dismissive, something sharp and evasive but then, horror of all horrors, his tongue wanted the rest of that sweet goodness and fancied a bit was left on his mouth. It slipped out quickly and licked his lips.
Belle's own lips pulled sideways in that delightful way he'd seen so often, to his own chagrin, that look when she was trying so very, very hard not to laugh, usually at him. She gently took the cup from his limp hands as he stared at her, agawk at what he'd done. "I'll take that as a yes, then." She didn't notice the Dark One's cocoa, sitting forgotten between them, as it changed into a lighter, milkier color.
Instead, without further ado, she sipped at her cocoa, her sweet red mouth sipping where the monster's green and black lips had sipped, her tongue brushing the porcelain where his had…and she didn't mind. She was just looking out over the murmuring ocean, gazing at the sun as it dipped into the water, a lovely red color, casting bright orange beams across the clouds and painting the sky in shades of gold. Beautiful.
But Rumplestiltskin was staring at something far more beautiful, something he found far more wild and mysterious and uncontrollable than the sea itself. Her chestnut hair was sitting safe beside him, not bobbing up and down in the merciless, thoughtless power of that terrible ocean. She hadn't been swept away or sucked down into the depths. She was safe beside him, being impudent and odd and silly by turns, sharing the cocoa, the seashore, and the sunset with him.
Slowly, as she continued staring out to sea, a soft, tender smile timidly peeked out of the Dark One's mask and his gold-flecked eyes glowed with something akin to fondness as he gazed down at his maid. The age old promises that human beings had passed to each other since the beginning of time echoed in that gaze. Glad you're here. Hope you stay. Laugh, live, be happy. I'll protect you. Belle's hand was pressed to the sand close by his leg, forgotten as she watched the waves swell back and forth with muffled crashes.
His scaly hand with blackened nails dropped from his lap like a timid spider, gingerly brushing over the sand, reaching for that pink hand like a moth flying towards a light.
Belle turned suddenly, grinning. The claw darted away into the shadows behind them both as Rumplestiltskin pulled the mask back into place and hid his smile in a greedy gulp of cocoa.
"The seaside isn't that bad, is it?" She raised her arm out and gestured at the great expanse. "Admit it…a great, moving force of color and sound…so beautiful and powerful and…and alive. Terrifying and dangerous yet beautiful and incredible…just like life itself."
Trying not to show how much she'd affected him already today, Rumplestiltskin put his cup down with an aggressive thump into the sand. Cocoa sloshed over the sides before swaying back into place. Belle blinked. Taking a moment to grace her with a scowl, he pulled his book up, half-hiding his face, and began to read.
Disappointed, Belle shifted her body and gazed at the ocean again. The red sun was low enough now that purple and indigo glows began creeping down and far over their heads the first star twinkled suddenly, a white pinprick of light in a velvet sky. The ocean grew darker, like blood. The seabirds grew quiet, their familiar calls dying away.
Belle shivered and pulled the throw tighter around her shoulders as a cool breeze ran curious fingers down her neck. She'd forgotten how the sea could magnify your feelings. If you were happy, you felt even happier, if also solemn. But if you were sad and lonely, you felt so, so much worse. You wanted to cry with every enveloping swell of surf, every time the sea moaned aloud and was dragged back down, clinging to the sand, condemned to move in frantic hurry forever, never to sit still, never be secure and safe.
But one thing remains constant.
All of Belle's loneliness seemed to be settling back on her shoulders, that familiar ache behind her eyes as she remembered that friendly, sunlit life she'd never see again. She closed her eyes, trying to keep the tears back. All that escaped her was a single sigh, heavy and whistling with sorrow too great to be silenced forever. The book lowered a few inches.
They will always find each other.
"Well."
The sharp, nasal tone caused Belle's eyes to snap open. She turned her head and saw Rumplestiltskin. The book had disappeared and he was staring at the water, leaning back on the palms of his hands. As if he'd been waiting for her gaze, he turned and looked at her. His face was full of sneering mockery, but Belle could have sworn there was something friendly in his eyes. "Well," he began again, eyes darting away nervously before he worked up the courage to admit it, "at least, at least…we didn't drown."
A second star had appeared in the sky above.
Belle bit her lip; the tears remaining unshed but still glistening in her eyes. Rumplestiltskin grew uncomfortable. Was she going to cry again? She shouldn't cry. She wasn't supposed to cry. She was supposed to laugh at his wry, grudging humor. She shouldn't have to cry.
Belle shook her head fondly instead, laughing quietly to herself as she sat back against the heap of sand behind her, still warm from the sun. She pulled the throw up to her chin, snuggling into its warmth as Rumplestiltskin just watched her.
The sun was almost gone. Red and purple rays still stuck out like flags over the horizon, the farewell waves of that celestial orb of fire. No sound but the soft crashing of the waves, the gentle murmuring swell of water as here and there a lonely bird called for its mate, called it home to sleep.
Suddenly Belle was so, so sleepy. Rumplestiltskin looked back at the ocean, remembering her words from earlier, replaying them over and over in his head as he tried to glean their meaning. For a moment, he tried to see the world through her eyes.
But that single moment had hardly passed before he gave a small, breathless gasp of shock. Something had gently fallen against his shoulder. He turned to look, and his nose brushed against soft chestnut hair. Belle. Belle's head was on his shoulder. She was asleep.
Her breath was even and quiet and so, so trusting, her body swelling with every wave from the sea. Her long black lashes shielded her eyes; her sweet lips smiling even in sleep. "Oh…" Rumplestiltskin breathed, like the eight-year-old child he'd once been who'd found a fairy sleeping on his cloak.
Quickly, Rumplestiltskin's overactive mind raced through all aspects of the situation. Should he wake her up? What would she say? If he let her sleep on, then what would she say? If a mermaid popped her head up or someone came walking along the beach, what would they say?
Bother it, his heart chirped; if they know what's good for them, his mind added, they won't say anything.
Gingerly, hesitantly, he rolled his head until his hair just tangled with hers. Not daring to get any closer, he leaned his head against the sand and watched the stars spread over the sky, all the time feeling Belle's soft, warm breath on his arm.
What a peculiar, precious little maid he had.
What a beautiful, special woman to have as a friend.
FINIS