This was a tumblr prompt fill.
"Rumbelle reunion (Neverland reunion or a previous reunion expanded, you choose.) :)"
I don't often do prompts, because I just don't write that often - but I enjoyed writing this short fic. So if you are interested in prompting your own short story, head over to my tumblr (same name), or send me a PM here. I can't promise to be expedient, but I'll do what I can. Nothing off limits. AMA. ;)
OUAT: Don't own it.
She's not ignorant in the ways of magic, though Rumplestiltskin seems to think her so. Strange, given that he filled a library for her that contained both literary and arcane texts. Perhaps he thinks she never got around to reading those particular books.
He has often underestimated her.
Looking over the spell of protection he had given her for Storybrooke, it hadn't taken long to realize that she didn't have to stay behind to cast it. It was but the work of a moment, and could be set from anywhere. A forest, the small back room of an antiques shop, a house…
The hull of a ship.
Which was exactly the best place Belle thought would be to take it. It hadn't been hard to sneak on board. She remembered the inconspicuous entrance Hook had used when she'd run from him after their brief and violent encounter. The small cubby it led to seemed to be made for stowaways. Belle set to work casting the spell, then prepared to wait until it was no longer necessary to hide. Until it was too late for Rumplestiltskin to make her stay behind.
And there it was - she knew it was happening. The stomach dropping feel of traveling to another world was similar yet less tumultuous than her experience with the curse had been.
There didn't seem much reason to wait in the ship's hold any longer, yet Belle found that she hesitated to reveal herself. What type of reception awaited her. She leaned back, closing her eyes. Always, she was calling out to Rumplestiltskin - always, he was running from her, pushing her away.
"I wasn't asking if she was engaged. I'm not looking for 'love' – I'm looking for a caretaker for my rather large estate. It's her, or no deal."
"Get out. Leave!"
No. This is my decision to make. You can't speak for me. You can't throw the lives of our people away.
"As you wish."
No. Don't ask them. Ask me. Look at me!
"No, wait." She approaches him as he stops.
He turns.
He looks.
It had been 30 years since that day, yet he still runs from her. Still doesn't see her. She has to make him see.
Pushing herself up and away from the wall, Belle readies herself to go out on deck. To face him. Only him - for certainly he is the only one among their party that would be upset she has tagged along. Then she hears footsteps and instinctively huddles back into her corner - straining to listen for whom it might be.
A voice isn't necessary. The stilted gait of someone walking with a cane is unmistakable. She chews her lip, uncertain now of making herself known. Instead, she waits.
She hears him settle onto the bench which doubles as a bed with a heavy sigh. She can almost see him with his eyes closed, head tilted back against the wooden hull. Or perhaps he leans forward, burying his face in his hands - hiding from the world. She itches to go to him, but reminds herself that he didn't want her here. Her sudden appearance would not be a comfort, initially. She hears footsteps again, faster.
"Mr. Gold." Emma.
A sigh. "Miss Swan. What do you want?"
"I want to talk to you about our plan for finding Henry." She sounded tense. Harried.
"Can this not wait?"
"No. We are chasing his kidnappers - we need to know which way to go, now."
Another sigh. "Fine. There is a spell in my box. Over there. Pour it on the item I told you to bring. It will lead us to him."
Belle heard footsteps, and rummaging, then silence.
"I'm sorry about Neal."
"I know you are."
"It was my fault…" There was a crack in Emma's voice, but Rumple's interrupted it.
"No, it was my fault. I created the curse. I drove Bae away twice. I've lost everyone I love."
"You still have Belle. She remembers you, now."
They were walking up a hill, the dignified man in a suit leading the way - keeping a distance of about twenty feet ahead of her. They both seemed ill attired for a walk in the woods, but it had been a long time since she'd been outside a cell, and found no argument in her.
Then a wave of pure love washed over her.
And she remembered.
"Wait."
"No, no - we're very close."
It's me! I remember that I love you. Stop. Look at me.
"Rumplestiltskin, wait." She approaches him as he stops.
He turns.
He looks.
"I asked Belle to stay behind because I wanted her safe."
"I understand - and I can't believe I'm saying this - but you have to try to get past what you've done. For her. Because she's waiting for you to come back."
"I'm not going back." Belle stifled a gasp.
Silence.
"What do you mean by that?"
"I've lost much, and I have much to answer for. I'm going to die at the hands of your son - and I'm not going to stop it."
"…. What exactly do you mean by That?"
"A seer told me. Long ago."
"A seer told you that my son would kill you?"
"In so many words." His voice was a whisper.
Emma's voice was steel. The voice of a mother. "I don't believe it."
"He might not have a choice in the matter, it might be an accident… I don't know." Belle could hear the defeat in his tone. "The point is, it is foretold, and I've nothing left to lose."
"You have Belle."
Silence.
"Belle is safe. And soon, so will Henry be."
Silence. And then, Emma's retreating footsteps. For minutes, her true love sat as the quiet enveloped both of them. She should show herself. She should say something - but what she'd just overheard was still drilling itself into her head.
Rumplestiltskin was going to die.
Rumplestiltskin believed Henry was going to kill him.
Rumplestiltskin had left her behind.
The creak of wood indicated he had stood, his footsteps slow over to the hatch.
Now. Now. It has to be now. Belle quietly swung the door to the cargo hold open and stepped out.
You can't leave me behind, again. I won't be a casualty of your life. We have true love, and that makes us one. I'll make you see it. Look at me, Rumplestiltskin.
"Wait." She called, her voice hitching slightly. She approaches him as he stops.
He turns.
He looks.