She was cold. Still in the dark waters, Belle blindly reached for the blankets. Unable to find them, she sat up. When her eyes had adjusted to the gloom a few seconds later she found it tangled around her husband. He lay on his back with one hand on his chest and the other at her side, snoring gently. Not to be discouraged, Belle pulled until at last victory was hers. Rumple's snores stopped momentarily and then resumed as she reclaimed her half. The Dark One could be such a bed hog, she thought ruefully.
Feeling like she had just run a marathon in heels, Belle settled back into the blankets. She closed her eyes and tried to go back to the dark waters but sleep wouldn't come. Despite the blanket her feet were still icy and every part of her body throbbed, though that was nothing new. She loved being pregnant, but she would not miss the physical discomfort that came with it.
Selfishly, part of her hoped Rumplestilskin would wake up and keep her company. He was partially responsible for her condition, after all. It was only fair.
Before the pregnancy she had been the one who slept soundly while it seemed like he survived off of Earl Grey Tea and sheer will power alone. When they were still in the Dark Castle she wondered if he even slept at all. She heard him at his spinning wheel at all hours of the night and morning. (There's no rest for the wicked, dearie he had replied when she asked him, followed by his trademark giggle). He seemed quite peaceful now.
Eyes fully adjusted to the dark, Belle examined the patterns on the ceiling. The owl that lived in the backyard and whom she had christened Edward hooted softly somewhere close by. She rolled over, trying to find a more comfortable position with little success. The moonlight pouring through the window seemed far too bright. It felt like high noon.
The baby, who had been keeping a low profile since the afternoon, chose that moment to kick. Well, at least her desire for company had been granted. She glanced at the clock on her bedside table and sighed. 3:41. Great. At this rate she was never going to get back to sleep before the library opened. Quietly as she could, Belle slipped out of the bed and clumsily found her slippers and robe. Rumple's snores stopped briefly as he rolled over, muttering something about manticores.
"So what do you want to do?" She inquired softly when they had made it downstairs. The baby kicked again in response. "Your daddy is still asleep, so we have to be quiet." Rumple had always loved it when she read aloud and now they spent most evenings on the sofa in front of a fire, taking turns reading to the baby. Their current project, A Christmas Carol, was still on the end table, their place marked, but it didn't feel right to read without Rumplestilskin. Belle tried to remember the lullabies her mother had sung to her when she was a child but her brain was just foggy enough that only bits and pieces came to her. All she could think of were the holiday songs from the CD she had been playing almost every day for about a month now. Hand on her belly, she sang softly about rivers and shepherds and she did both parts of the duet. Belle wondered idly if Idina would be a good name for a girl. She made a mental note to add the name to her list.
The music made her feel festive, and she turned on the Christmas tree, admiring the multicolored glow. Belle loved all the decorations on the tree from the tinsel to the gold and red bulbs, but her favorites were the Disney ornaments she and Rumplestilskin had found in the attic their first Christmas together. Maybe the Evil Queen had a sense of humor after all. She moved the Beast ornament so he would be closer to his Belle when shapes tucked under the tree caught her eye. Two and a half weeks until Christmas and Rumplestilskin had already bought and wrapped several gifts. The sight made her smile.
"The good thing about buying presents for you father," she said matter of factly, "Is that he's always happy with whatever you get him. The bad part is that it's difficult to think of ideas to begin with. He can get anything he wants for himself, and he's absolutely no help when you ask him for ideas. But the presents he gives are always so thoughtful that you want to do the same for him. I'll be glad when you're old enough to help me think of ideas."
Edward still crooning outside, Belle gazed at the tree thoughtfully.
"I know what we can do!" She exclaimed, momentarily forgetting the need for quiet. "We can make a present for Rumplestilskin. Well, your father."
Her gaze moved to A Christmas Carol, and an idea struck her. She would create a book for them to read together. After assembling the proper paper and pen from Rumplestilskin's study she returned to the sofa, poised to begin. Maybe this was why Rumplestilskin did so much of his magic at night. The serenity of the late hour was energizing in a way the harsh daylight could never be. More and more, the darkness seemed like a welcomed friend and not something to fear. She closed her eyes for a minute, and listened to Edward's hoots and the familiar creaks of the old house settling and the wind rustling the trees outside the window like hundreds of whispering voices. She thought about chipped cups and spinning wheels and being woken up in the morning by gentles kisses. Poised to begin, she set her pen to the paper, beginning with "Once upon a time…"
She must have dozed off, because the next thing she knew there was a hand on her arm.
"Sweetheart, are you alright?" Her swimming vision snapped into focus and Rumplestilskin appeared before her, hair slightly disheveled and wearing the plaid bathrobe she had gotten him for his last birthday.
"What time is it?" Belle mumbled.
The book had fallen onto the carpet. She discreetly pushed it under the table with her foot.
"Just before six. I woke up and you were gone."
The sight of his eyes, so fraught with concern, made her feel weak in the knees. "I'm sorry, Rumple, " she murmured, moving over so he could sit down next to her. "I couldn't sleep so I came down here for awhile."
"Why didn't you wake me up?" he demanded, his hands automatically going around her waist.
"I wanted to," she admitted. "But you looked so peaceful. And you had stolen half the blankets, so I thought it was best to leave you with them."
He raised his eyebrows. "At least I don't have cold feet."
"But I have you to keep me warm," Belle reminded him as she rested her head on his shoulder.
"That you do. Well, wake me up next time," he said. With a twitch of his fingers a fire sprang to life in the hearth. "I'll find ways to keep you warm."
If there was one thing Rumplestilskin was good at, it was making his way seem irresistible. It sometimes made being married to him difficult, but right now Belle didn't mind. "I promise I will," she told him. "Still, I'm sorry I worried you, Rumple."
"How are you doing?" he asked softly, resting his hand on her swollen belly.
"It feels like she's running laps in there," Belle replied. Rumplestilskin's smile widened.
"So we've decided it's a girl, have we?" He inquired, eyes twinkling.
"Mother's intuition," she retorted as he kissed her hair.
"Whatever you say, my darling." Rumplestilskin nodded towards A Christmas Carol. "Would you like me to read to you?"
Belle kissed his cheek. "We would love it."
With a smile he picked the book up and in a fluid motion usually reserved for making deals he turned to their place. "Yes! And the bedpost was his own. The bed was his own, the room was his own….." He read until the light shining through the windows turned from silver to gold and his wife was sleeping peacefully curled against him.