Mr. Gold's Wife
If Belle hadn't been in an asylum, if Gold had his true love with him this whole time, if he suddenly remembered who he truly was, and if I owned OUAT, this is how I imagined him coming home.
Mr. Gold entered Granny's Bed & Breakfast intent on collecting their month's rent. They didn't have many tenants but it seemed they were getting a new one today. There was a stranger talking to the owner, the newcomer he'd heard about in town, the woman that spent the night in custody for destroying city's property. As he approached them, ignoring the granddaughter in the background, he heard the woman say her name.
"Emma. Emma Swan."
In the brief moment that took Granny to look up from her papers, startled to see him, he remembered everything. His life, his son and, he thought with longing, his love. His wife, waiting for him at home.
He couldn't resist speaking. He felt joy for the first time in a long while and, even though everything was planned to the utmost detail, he was still somewhat grateful to the blonde woman in front of him for making him remember.
"Emma. What a lovely name."
She turned around, surprise on her features.
"Thanks." She said.
He smiled and received his money from Granny, even though rent was the last thing on his mind now. He had a mission here, a purpose, and it was time to complete it. Everything was on the right track but when he left the Inn he felt the first feelings of trepidation. It was wonderful he had her with him again, and so close now, but he was still a man who made wrong choices. She loved him with everything she had and it was only now he could really see how much. His memories told him they were once happy in their marriage and that had faded over time; he feared he never really made her happy and those were just that: memories. He was a cold man and even if he'd never harm her, he still made her suffer.
She deserved better than a husband who didn't give her what she needed, but he was determined to make this work. He had gained a second chance with her and he wasn't going to squander it again. He winced when he thought about how he treated her. Gold was a monster, but he would not touch her in anger. No, he'd done the same thing here he did back in their land.
Really, he was the luckiest man alive, she'd wanted him when he looked and acted the monster he was, and she wanted him now, when he was clearly not better than before. And what did he do with this opportunity to make things right? He'd wasted it once more. He distanced himself from her. They stopped talking, he no longer shared things with her, and they barely spent any time together lately. And it was his entire fault. She tried so hard to make them work, to make him look at her again with the same love in his eyes she always had in hers.
He got into his car and drove home. He felt an eternity pass before he reached his destination, worry on his mind now. As soon as he arrived he climbed out of the car, and slowly made the ascent to their house. Before entering, however, he paused and gripped the handle of his cane harder, feeling tense. She would be home now, she always was when he got there. But he was early today, his need to see her overwhelming everything else. So he would be the first to arrive.
She was always there when he arrived home, the scent of a home cooked meal wafting from the kitchen. Lately, even though she still tried, their dinner was spent in silence, where previously they would talk and laugh, telling each other their day or just sweet nothings. Later he'd help her lift and wash the plates and they would retire to the living room, where she would read for a while and he would look over his papers, his eyes diverting to a far more pretty sight.
Not anymore. She got tired of trying and after the first rebuttals she'd just go to their room and read there, and when he was finally ready to go to bed she'd already had the lights off. They haven't shared any kind of intimacy lately, and this wasn't any different. Again, not for lack of her trying. How could he simply not see the wonderful woman in his life, his home, his bed? He wanted to blame it all on the curse but the truth was that he hadn't treated her like he should before. It was no different now.
But that would all change. The Savior's arrival guaranteed that. He was one step closer to finding his son, but he still couldn't leave Storybrooke, not until the curse was broken. In the meanwhile, he had to fix his relationship.
He took a deep breath, unlocked the door and entered. He was wrong. She was already there. She was starting dinner and that brought back memories from yesterday. She made his favorite meal and when they settled down to eat she had tried to talk to him. Her voice had trembled and her hands had quivered, and to his now great shame, she'd cried. And the worst thing was that he had not comforted her. She had been so worried, saying what he had dismissed as nonsense on her part, but that he now regretted with every fibre of his being. She just wanted them to be right again. And he had dismissed the issue, claiming everything was right and why was she so upset over nothing? But it wasn't nothing, not if it made her cry.
She had her back to him when he entered the kitchen, the radio playing in the background, her only companion. She was chopping something but he knew she'd heard him enter. Mrs. Gold just didn't think her husband cared anymore. Oh, but she was wrong, so wrong. And he would have to convince her of that.
That beautiful brown hair of hers was up, a few strands brushing her face. She shrugged one out of her eyes, and her blouse slid off her right shoulder, but still she didn't turn, even as he walked slowly to her, his cane tapping lightly on the floor. His left hand reached out and touched the other arm. He felt her tense a little, and her hands stopped working. Her head was down, her eyes looking at the chopping board and he saw a small crease appear between her eyebrows. His hand slid down her naked arm with gentleness, until he touched her hand. Walking as closely to her as he could, his chest to her back, he lowered his head to the recently bared shoulder and kissed her there. He lingered and breathed in her wonderful scent.
His Belle shuddered a little and with her usual tenderness, she placed her right hand on top of his left, the one that still grabbed hers. Before she could do it, however, she hesitated, no doubt wondering if that simple gesture would make him recoil from her. It didn't. He left his face rest against hers and fought a sudden urge to cry. He wasn't too late. She still wanted him, even after everything he did.
Belle moved her head towards his, dislodging him, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she slowly touched his face with her lips, her eyes closing and a small breath escaping her. She was a little flushed when she pulled away and he hoped she hadn't been crying.
They stared at each other, neither saying a word. Then, slowly, as if he was scared she was going to refuse him, he kissed her slightly opened mouth, feeling the little gasp she let out. Her eyes closed again and this time, when she pulled away, she turned in his embrace, one hand on his chest and another on his waist. He put his arm around her, his hand resting on her back, and the look in her eyes almost undid him. She looked at him with such hope and love, with so many things he didn't deserve. Then she kissed him, her lips the most wonderful thing he ever felt, those trembling hands grabbing his clothing.
Belle hadn't felt like this in a long time. She was kissing him and he didn't mind. She was so hopeful he'd look at her again and see her, just like he used to. Her thoughts died down when she felt his tongue on her lips, and she opened her mouth, letting him in to touch her as intimately as he liked to do. She felt him draw her closer against him and made a small sound when their tongues met. He tasted even better than she remembered and he was so good at this. One of the many perks of marrying an older man. He moved his leg between hers and pressed her against the counter. Then his hand gently grabbed her hair and pulled her head back, his kiss deepening. She faintly heard his cane dropping to the kitchen floor, and then felt his other arm embrace her. She hadn't felt this loved in so long. A longing grew inside her chest and she wanted nothing more than feel him again, feel his walls give away and let her in.
When they finally pulled away he let his mouth drift to her cheek and kissed her there, as if he couldn't stop touching her. She knew the feeling. They stood like that for a while, the food forgotten, eyes locked on each other, saying nothing but everything at the same time. She saw change in him, but she didn't know what had instigated it. Perhaps the last meal they'd shared, where she'd crumbled and came apart in front of him. But he had been so detached, so distant. Could that be the reason? Regret? Did he finally see what she had been seeing for so long? She looked down at her hands, where she was still grabbing him, and relaxed them.
"I uh, sorry, I wrinkled your shirt." She said, still looking down.
"I don't care." His gentle voice made her look up and she was elated by what she saw in his face. He was looking at her like he used to, like she was everything to him, like she was all he ever wanted and all his dreams come true.
She couldn't help it. She cried again, though this time with relief. He looked worried, staring at her like he'd done something wrong. And she wanted to tell him he didn't, everything was well, but she couldn't speak. So she just hugged him. He returned her hold.
"What? Did I−"
"No. No, everything's fine." She still sobbed a little, but she was smiling the most beautiful smile he'd ever seen when she looked up, her arms holding him around his waist. But then she remembered something and her smile disappeared.
"I just..." She took a deep breath, gathering her courage. "I thought... Since we haven't been the same, I mean, I must have done something. If I only knew what, I−"
"No." He seemed sad as he spoke, and he too summoned his bravery. "It's my fault, sweetheart. I've been a fool, taking you for granted. You're perfect. How could you have done something wrong?"
"I thought maybe you just didn't like me anymore. Maybe..." And here her voice faltered a little. "I thought there could be, you know, someone else."
He looked at her, appalled at the damage he'd done. How could she think that? No, how could he make her think that? She never did anything wrong, she was as perfect as she always was. Even here, in this land without magic, she had the most important magic of all, love. For him, of all people. And she got along with everyone in this town and they all liked her. How could they not? She had stolen the heart of a monster everyone feared, and he could never have it back. And he didn't want it back.
"Never." He poured every emotion he had in his answer, his determination to make her see the truth. "Belle, you're the one, you have always been the one."
She looked at him with tears in her eyes, but they didn't fall. She smiled again and felt happy. For this confession and for the name he called her. Belle. He'd never call her that, it was always her full name, Annabelle. Her friends called her Annie or Anna, but he'd never shortened it before. She liked it. She liked it very much. And it was special, because he was the only one who called her that. At least she hoped he'd say it again.
He smiled back at her, another vision she hadn't seen in a while. He rarely smiled with pleasure, though he'd do it in scorn or mockery to others. Never to her. The smiles she received were always genuine.
"I'll never hurt you again. I promise you that. I want a chance to make things right." He sounded so serious now and she believed him, but a little insecure part inside her told her she wasn't enough for him. She dismissed that horrible thought.
"Deal." She smiled as she said it, and he remembered another deal, a lifetime ago, and one he broke. But this one he wouldn't.
"Deal."
She laughed happily, a sound so wonderful his heart almost stopped.
"I have to make dinner. Sorry, but you surprised me." She disentangled herself from him and he let her do it with reluctance. "Usually you're home later."
"I just had to see you." She kissed again him for that, too briefly in him opinion.
"Well, you can help me, then. I'd like that." He took his jacket off and together they finished making dinner but she had to run him off the kitchen when he almost set fire to the potatoes. So he set the table, and afterwards they ate in a companionship none of them had felt in a while. Gold couldn't think of anything more beautiful than her smiles, probably the fact they were directed at him.
After they tidied everything, Belle hesitated again. She wasn't sure how to proceed from now, if she should go to the bedroom like she had been doing lately or if she should stay downstairs with him. Frankly, even though she didn't want to interfere in his work, she just wanted to feel him again. It had been so long. She feared being rejected, like she had been before, but he truly seemed different, so she tried it again.
Gold felt Belle approach him. She stopped near him and grabbed his hand. He looked at her and saw the longing in her eyes, sure she'd find the same in his. She kissed him slowly and when they pulled away she tugged a little on his hand, pulling him with her. He saw the fear in her eyes as well, fear of not being accepted. But he wanted nothing more than her now. He could think of nothing more than have her again. He went along with her upstairs and walked to their room, signs of her everywhere, and he marvelled at the small things that truly made this house a home.
She was uncertain once more. All Belle could think was that he had rejected her advances lately. Perhaps she did do something wrong, or he didn't find her attractive anymore. She had her back to him, too coward to look him in the eyes now. She felt him embrace her, her back against his chest, and it felt so good. She felt braver. He hadn't rejected her today. She caressed his hands and turned around, kissing him.
She grabbed his tie, his tongue sliding into her mouth as she opened it for him. His hands circled her waist and stopped at the small of her back, where he pressed her against him. Her arms went around his neck. He let his mouth trail a path from hers to her throat, and then to her neck, where he kissed her, at the same time he slid one hand on her bare back, eliciting a shiver from her.
Still, he was being so careful with her, afraid of hurting or scaring her, and she wanted none of that; she needed him, all of him, and his wonderful need for her. She began by getting rid of his waistcoat, unbuttoning it as quickly as she could manage; she always found him incredibly handsome in it. He kissed her again, a little more urgently than before and when she finally finished unfastening it, she let it fall to the floor, joining the blouse he managed to take off her first. His shirt followed and they moved to the bed, where she laid down and welcomed him in her arms.
She was feeling wonderful, and not just because of what he was doing to her, but because he put her mind at ease with his actions. She truly had thought he didn't love her anymore, or at least that he didn't enjoy their nights together anymore. After all, she had tried so hard and yet this moment of intimacy was the first in months. But she didn't want to think of anything that brought fear and doubt into her heart, and he never let it happen anyway.
When Belle woke up it was morning, the sun was shining warmly through the windows, and she felt contented and sated. Her husband had been so kind and sweet and everything she had missed and he hadn't wanted to be apart from her, not even in his sleep. His head was resting on her shoulder, his face buried in her neck, and he had an arm around her, his breathing slightly tickling her skin. Belle lifted her hand and ran her fingers in his hair, gently smoothing it from its messy state, even though she loved it when he didn't care about his appearance around her. She was pretty sure she was the only one to ever see him in pyjama pants and a short-sleeved shirt.
He stirred, his eyes heavy from sleep opening to the most wonderful vision he'd ever seen. His wife, smiling at him with affection and love, even after everything he put her through. He really didn't deserve such a gift, but he wasn't foolish enough to let it go to waste again, even if he was not worthy of her. He couldn't resist kissing her good morning though, nor could he help himself from touching her again. Looking his true love in the eyes, he told her the one thing he knew she wanted to hear, and the one thing he wanted to say the most.
"I love you, Belle."