From the Heart
Snapegirlkmf
A/N: This was written for a Valentine's Day contest on FB where the prompts were Rumbelle, rose, red, and heart. As always, dearies, I don't own Once Upon a Time, unfortunately!
Belle had never celebrated Valentine's Day before. In Fairy Tale land, there had been no holiday celebrating lovers and love, and in Storybrooke she had been locked up in the asylum where no one celebrated anything like a holiday. Until she had been freed and the curse had broken, enabling her to be with her one true love, Rumplestiltskin again. Now February 14th approached, and she wanted to celebrate the holiday with Rumple, but wasn't sure how to go about it.
So she did what she usually did when faced with a problem, she took out books and read up on the holiday, its meaning and history. Being the town librarian, she had access to a treasure trove of knowledge, and used both printed material and the Internet, via the library computer network, which Rumple had paid to install a few months ago.
She discovered that Valentine's Day was celebrated by lovers and loved ones, using flowers, candy, and cards to express sentiments to the recipient. The theme of red hearts, roses, and chocolate was predominant. Several stores in Storybrooke sold Valentine cards, and Game of Thorns was doing a brisk business in roses, carnations, and other red flowers, along with boxes of chocolate.
Belle sat behind the circulation desk in the library, biting on the end of a pencil as she made notes about what she could do for Rumple. They hadn't been together very long in Storybrooke, only a few months, but that didn't matter. She wanted—no, needed—to show her beloved how much he meant to her. How much he had always meant to her. As Mr. Gold he was a sharp savvy businessman, successful and rich, and yet beneath his suave demeanor lurked the same lonely, shy, vulnerable man he'd always been. She had seen it back in the Enchanted Forest, in the Dark Castle, and she saw it now when she visited him at his pawnshop or his cozy salmon-pink Victorian on Threadneedle Way.
She knew he thought himself to be most unlovable, a lesson that had been drummed into him first by his father who had abandoned him, then by his "loving" wife Milah, who had done the same, crushing his self-esteem and pride into the dirt, and third in line was Cora, the selfish miller's daughter who had chosen power and prestige over the simple love he had offered her. Belle counted herself the fourth one who had hurt him, because she had left him that day, choosing to walk away rather than convince him she would never betray him, her parting words to him had been "all you'll have is an empty heart and a chipped cup."
He would never know just how much she regretted those words, uttered in anger, or her choice to leave and not return as soon as she was able. We both hurt each other so much that day, breaking each other's hearts and leaving the pieces scattered on the floor, an offering to the darkness lurking in each of our souls. And of course he blames himself . . . just as I do myself. She sighed. It was past time to stop placing blame and guilt. Valentine's Day was a day to celebrate happiness and love . . . and that's what she intended to do.
She decided to do so with three gifts, one traditional, and two original. She looked up several ideas online and in her craft books. Then she scribbled them all down and picked from the list. That done, she went to pay a visit to her father, Moe French.
Page~*~*~*~*~Break
Rumplestiltskin was a man who felt deeply, try though he did to hide it on occasion. What he loved, he loved forever and always, without reservation. It was how he loved Baelfire, and how he loved Belle, even as the Dark One. Yet he found it difficult to form meaningful personal relationships, perhaps because of his underlying fear of rejection, something that had been hammered into him at six years old, when his rascal father had abandoned him for the life of a petty gambler and con artist, taking to the road and never returning one day. The pattern had continued with Milah and Cora, until he had assumed it was because he was unlovable, that there was something fundamentally unlikeable in his makeup, and that was why women always left him, for pirates and princes. Only Belle had stayed, and he had driven her from his castle with his distrust and fear. She had been his "brief flicker of light amidst an ocean of darkness".
She still was . . . now more than ever, as he sought to free himself of his curse, and be free of the damned dagger once and for all. As yet, he had not succeeded, but he was close to finding a way to do so. But Valentine's Day was coming up in a week, and he wanted to do something special for Belle, something that would show her how much he adored and valued her, because she loved an unworthy beast, when she could have her pick of any man she wished.
He knew the traditional gifts of the holiday—hearts, flowers, candy, and cards. And he would give her those and more . . . but what gift could he give that was truly from the heart, that expressed everything she was to him? He pondered as he worked in his shop, and again as he entered his rent on his computer.
Finally, he decided on three gifts, for three was the trinity, a magical number, and he typed up ideas while he printed rent notices, hoping she liked his surprises and didn't think him the biggest idiot in the two worlds.
Page~*~*~*~Break
Gold ordered a bouquet of roses from Moe, then set about altering some slightly, for he had read up on the language of flowers, and hoped Belle had also, so she would know what it meant when he sent her the arrangement, which was in a heart shape, of roses colored red, pink, burnt orange, and a single damask deep purple. In the center he used magic to change three bars of Godiva strawberry milk chocolate into heart shapes and line them up alongside the roses, and in the middle he put a poem, written in his own hand, from that most excellent Scottish poet, Robert Burns. He stuck the entire creation into the teapot that belonged with the chipped cup, and hung several bags of Valentine's Day tea from the rim. The tea was a special blend of rose petals, chocolate, and vanilla. He included a small notecard with the words May my love always warm you—R.
He would deliver it to her by magic on February 14th. Then he set to work on his second gift, spinning until dawn broke.
Page~*~*~*~*~Break
In her apartment, Belle emptied out a cardboard heart onto the table, putting the candy within it in a bowl for the front desk, and refilling it with sea salt chocolate caramels and Reeses peanut butter hearts, which she knew Rumple loved. That done, she tied a simple velvet red ribbon around it, and used a glue gun to hot glue the stem of a single red rose in the center. Over this she put a glass dome, then added a card she had made. She hoped he wouldn't think the gift silly or ridiculous, but she wanted to connect both their past world with this one, and felt this was the best way to do so, as well as being romantic.
She would have it delivered to the shop around eight AM on Valentine's Day.
Then she set to work on the second gift, writing in a clear neat hand in a beautiful red leather journal.
Page~*~*~*~*~Break
February 14, 2014:
Belle walked over to the circulation desk after putting her red coat in the office and saw a gorgeous arrangement of roses and chocolate in a familiar looking teapot sitting on the desk. She knew immediately who it was from without having to read the card, though she did so anyway, smiling with sheer delight as she examined her gift.
The arrangement had three "layers", the roses formed the outside of the heart, the chocolates the second layer, all wrapped in Godiva gold foil, and the poem the center. She bent to read it, finding it was one she hadn't read yet.
A Red, Red Rose
O, my love is like a red, red rose,
That is newly sprung in June.
O, my love is like the melody,
That is sweetly played in tune.
As fair are you, my lovely lass,
So deep in love am I,
And I will love you still, my Dear,
Till all the seas go dry
—excerpt by Robert Burns
She felt her eyes grow misty with tears, and she could almost hear Rumple speaking the words to her in his skin-stroking rich voice that sent quivers down her spine.
She had never doubted that he loved her, only that he had been afraid to love her, and accept her love in return.
But this heartfelt gesture proved that he had, at last, allowed her into his heart.
Oh, Rumple. Red for love, pink for devotion, orange for passion, and purple for magic and enchantment. Only you would be able to put together something like this.
She left the arrangement proudly on display and went to unlock the library doors, wondering if her gift had arrived at his shop yet.
Page~*~*~*~Break
"Mr. Gold, a delivery for you," said Mark, the teenager who worked as a delivery boy around town to make extra money to buy a car. He held out a lovely glass dome encased rose whose bottom was a heart-shaped box.
"Thank you, Mark. You can set it on the counter," Gold directed, and then came over and gave the boy a twenty dollar bill. "Here. Take your girlfriend out to dinner or something."
"Thanks, sir!" Mark said, and pocketed the money. "Happy Valentine's Day!"
Rumple examined the beautiful arrangement, gently removing the dome to see a box of chocolate. He carefully removed the rose bedecked cover and saw what was inside. "Ah, Belle! You know me all too well!" Smiling, he popped a caramel into his mouth, then replaced the cover, reminiscent of the rose he had given her so long ago in the Dark Castle, which had been her annoying arrogant fiancée transformed. He placed the dome back over it, thinking, I was your Beast then and you were my Beauty . . . and that's as true today as it ever was.
He opened the card, it was a handmade one, and inside it was a poem.
A special world for you and me
A special bond one cannot see
It wraps us up in its cocoon
And holds us fiercely in its womb.
Its fingers spread like fine spun gold
Gently nestling us to the fold
Like silken thread it holds us fast
Bonds like this are meant to last.
And though at times a thread may break
A new one forms in its wake
To bind us closer and keep us strong
In a special world, where we belong.
-Sheelagh Lennon
PS: I love you, Rumple
Always, Belle
His hands stroked the cardstock, moving lightly over the paper, and he felt as giddy as a schoolboy after his first kiss. She loved him still, after all he had been and done, she still considered him worth fighting for. He still didn't know why, but he knew better than to question it. Warmth bloomed anew in his lonely heart, and he whistled as he dusted the glass cabinet, the salty sweet taste of caramel lingering on his tongue, and the single rose beneath the dome sitting upon the counter for all to see.
Page~*~*~*~Break
Several patrons who had stopped by to pick up their books remarked on how lovely the flower arrangement was, and Belle beamed each time they did so. Around noon there was a lull, and she went to shelve some books off the H cart. When she returned, there was a package at the desk, tied in a crimson velvet ribbon. The delicate pink tissue smelled like attar of roses. She gently undid the bow, and opened it, finding a beautiful mohair shawl, with twinned hearts embroidered in sparkling golden thread on the back of it, and a golden heart clasp. With it was an invitation. It read:
Mr. Gold
cordially requests
Miss French
to attend a dinner at the Enchanted Rose
on February 14, 2014 at 6 PM
On the bottom was written Wear this, dearie, tonight. Just a little something I wove for you. We'll meet at my house. Love, Rumple.
Belle picked up the shawl and hugged it to her. It would go perfectly with her dress and she couldn't wait to try it on. She swirled the shawl about her shoulders and wrapped herself in it. It was like a fuzzy cloud, and when she wore it, it was almost as if she could feel Rumple's hands on her shoulders, cocooning her with his love and protection.
She grabbed a pen and wrote on a blank card catalog divider her acceptance, then stuck it in her second gift for him and called Mark back at Game of Thorns.
Page~*~*~*~Break
Rumple had just gotten a phone call from the maitre'd at The Enchanted Rose, apologizing for losing his reservation and offering to give him a free meal because now they were unable to give him a table, as they were all booked for the night. He accepted the man's stammered apology, for what else was he to do, but thought this was typical of his luck. He'd wanted a special evening out as his last gift to Belle, and things always seemed to go wrong.
Unsure of what to do, he phoned Granny's, but found they were also booked.
Biting back a sigh, he heard the shop bell tinkling, and emerged from the back room to find Mark standing there with yet another package in his hand.
"Here's another one for you, Mr. Gold," the teenager said brightly. "Wow, she must really have a thing for you!" He handed the pawnbroker a flat package wrapped in simple gold paper.
Gold thanked the boy and gave him another twenty. Belle, what are you doing? He thought as he tore open the wrapping.
Inside was a handsome red leather journal and a card stating Belle's acceptance of his invitation.
He opened the journal, which had thick creamy pages, almost like parchment, and found it was called A Book of Devotions and on each page was a saying, or affirmation, written in Belle's flowing script. On the flyleaf, she had written, This little book is a compendium of thoughts from me to you, and each day you should read one, and it will remind you that you are loved always.
On the first page was a simple poem. Your heart is like my chipped cup, damaged yet still beautiful, that I shall fill with love and hope, for no one decides my fate but me, and I shall love you till the end of all things.
He flipped through the small book rapidly, finding more sentiments like the first one, some were her own words, others quotes from famous people or inspirational thoughts. All reaffirmed a single theme—that she loved him.
Reading the quote for Valentine's Day over made a lump form in his throat, and caused his shaky self-confidence to slowly start increasing, a few notches at a time, for there must be something worthwhile about him to cause her to write such special things, for she was no fool, and surely a wretched coward wouldn't inspire such devotion.
He tucked the journal in a pocket of his Dolce and Gabbana suit jacket and waited for the next customer to show up, planning on closing the shop early so he could run to the store and get something for dinner, since if he couldn't take her out, he'd have to make her something. Something fairly easy, as he was no gourmet chef. He hoped she liked his shawl.
Page~*~*~*~*~Break
At five thirty, Belle arrived at Gold's Victorian, in a sexy red spangly dress with a heart-shaped bodice that hugged her generous curves, lacey sheer stockings and killer Armani heels, the shawl wrapped about her shoulders. She had on simple hammered gold earrings and a gold chain with a gold heart on it. Her hair was a riot of chestnut red curls, blowing about her face, as the wind grabbed it playfully as she knocked on the door.
The door was opened immediately by Rumple, who smiled at her and said, "Why'd you knock? You can just come on in, Belle."
He stood aside as she entered. "It's your house, Rumple," she reminded him softly.
"And you're welcome in it anytime, dearie," he told her, shutting the door. "By the way, you look ravishing in that shawl."
She sent him an arch look over her shoulder. "A very sexy man gave it to me," she replied, eyeing him leisurely. "And you look wickedly handsome in that suit, Rumple."
"Everyone looks good in a Dolce and Gabbana, dearie," he said self-deprecatingly. "Have a seat in the kitchen. I know we were supposed to go out for dinner, but . . . plans have changed, dearie. And so I'm cooking for us tonight." He sighed. "I'm sorry, there was some mix up with our reservations—"
"Rumple, it's fine," Belle reassured him. "I prefer staying home anyhow. It's more cozy and more . . .relaxed. Did you get my little gift?"
"Which one? The book or the rose?"
"Both."
"I did, and they're wonderful, sweetheart. More than I deserve."
"No, they're not. They're exactly what you deserve," she refuted, and then she came and hugged him. "And this shawl and your flowers were gorgeous. So . . . what's on the menu for dinner?"
"Umm . . . hamburgers and fries with a salad and iced tea," he replied diffidently. "At least I can make those without burning my house down."
"That's perfect!" she murmured into his shoulder, loving the way she felt in his arms, and the spicy clean scent of his aftershave. "And this time, nobody will interrupt us," she purred.
"That's right, dearie. Because I've locked the door and taken the phone off the hook," he answered huskily.
"Good. Because I'm starving," she whispered in his ear, her breath tickling his cheek.
It made him long to just forget the hamburgers and pull her on his lap on the couch and start kissing her breathless. But he wasn't quite the beast people claimed, and so he shelved his rampant desire for the moment and went over to the stove and pulled out his grill, then summoned the package of Angus beef hamburgers from the fridge, stuck the pan of fries into the oven, and had the tomatoes, lettuce, and onion start chopping themselves.
"Rumple, what can I do to help?" Belle queried.
"Umm . . . you can pour the iced tea and set the table," he replied, sticking the hamburger buns into the toaster. He fired up the grill and while it was preheating, pulled on a green apron with the words Mr. Good Looking is Cooking on it. It had been the only one at the store that didn't have frills or pink candy stripes on it.
The burgers sizzled and hissed when he placed them on the grill, and soon the aroma of cooking meat filled the air. He sprinkled salt, pepper, and garlic over the tops of them and then watched them carefully so they didn't burn.
Belle finished with her chore and came over and put her arms about him. "Mmm! Those smell wonderful!" She rested her chin on his shoulder and playfully curled a hand round his wrist.
"How do you like yours, dearie?"
"Medium with a red center," she replied, and helped him flip them over.
Soon there were two perfectly cooked hamburgers on toasted buns topped with lettuce, tomato, onions, and pickles sitting on their plates, with a side of fries and a garden salad with balsamic vinaigrette. Ketchup, mustard and mayo sat in the middle of the table, beside Gold's rose under glass.
Iced tea with fresh squeezed lemon was beside them, and Rumple picked his up and they clinked glasses. "Here's to us, dearie. Happy Valentine's Day!"
The food was incredible, every bit as good as Granny's, Belle informed him after she had eaten every crumb.
"I have Cherry Garcia ice cream," Rumple told her. "We can make sundaes."
"Or just eat it right out of the carton," she said impishly.
"Whatever you wish," he laughed. "You know, this wasn't what I had in mind for your third present," he began. "I wanted some romantic candlelight dinner with champagne and all that."
Belle put his hands on his shoulders and gazed into his expressive brown eyes. "Rumple, this dinner we just shared was more romantic than anything we could have had out in some fancy restaurant. Because it was made by you, and that's what counts. And I wanted to give you something else too . . . but couldn't come up with anything that didn't sound trite or . . . or overdone. So I decided that the best gift was simply—"
He cupped her face in his palm. "Dearie, you've already given me the best present—"
Then his mouth was on hers, in a breath stealing kiss that made her quiver with longing right down to her toes. He kissed her as if she were the only woman in the world, with a slow-burning gentle passion that ensnared her emotions in a tangled web of gold spun desire. Dizzy with the sensations he caused, she kissed him back hard.
She tasted of lemon and honey, which she used to flavor her iced tea, and the faintest tang of ketchup. His hands splayed gently across her back, pulling her to him as if he would absorb her into his being. She was like sweet ambrosia, the nectar of the gods to his love-starved heart, and he wanted to hold her and never let her go.
Finally, she drew back from him, her blue eyes gleaming, and then she finished her interrupted sentence.
"Me."
"You," he said an instant later.
With that realization they both smiled, and Belle kicked off her heels and allowed Rumple to carry her over to the couch, where he proceeded to enchant her with his skillful hands and mouth, making this Valentine's Day a night to remember forever, for the best gifts come from the heart, and last long after the last petal fallen from a red, red rose.
A/N: By the way there really IS a tea called Valentine's Day tea, just like the one described, by Harney and Sons, I sell it at B & N. It's delicious!