I am not sure if I am happy with this story. Been mulling the idea over for a while, but not sure I have made it go where I want. I kinda wanted more from it, but it refused to play along. Let me know what you think and maybe I will do a revise xx
He knew it was all a game to them, but it touched him beyond measure. For the first time in his impossibly long existence, he felt accepted. Of course, plans had gone a little wayward and this was not where he was supposed to be and for all his prophetic powers, he could never have seen this coming in a million trillion lifetimes. Yet, here he sits, on a rather uncomfortable chair, glass of whiskey in his hand, while three incredible girls prance around him ready to fulfil his every need.
The Storybrooke Annual Ball, slightly different this year, with everyone's memories returned and Regina missing, but Snow had insisted and it was clear that, as in the old land, what Snow wants, Snow gets. And Snow, in her royal wisdom, had excitedly (and rather girlishly, in his opinion) declared that this year's ball would be fancy dress. He hadn't planned on coming, stubbornly refusing to dress up and force himself on people who didn't want his company, because that was the truth of the matter, he could never undo what he had done and people would never be happy or even comfortable around him.
There was an interesting mix of costumes, some old world, some new, some blatantly taking the piss out of friends. He could see a Little Red Riding Hood, although firmly based on the new world version of the story, not the gory old world truth, talking to Captain America and he had to applaud Snow and Charming on their character choice, they made a rather dashing Bonnie and Clyde, their story pulling so many comparatives to the infamous new world couple. The party was held in the back garden of what was the Mayor's manor, once the apple tree had been ritually slaughtered and burnt, it was a good sized space and with fairy lights (shame they aren't made of real fairies he bitterly thought to himself) strung up in the trees, the space was soft and reminiscent of home.
Since the miracle return of Belle, Rumplestiltskin had been trying so hard to be deserving of her. Every day, he thanked his lucky stars that the breaking of the curse had brought with it her love and forgiveness. True, there had been a little hiccup with the releasing of magic, but they had worked through it and although it had cost him some painful truths and pride, they were in a better place for the honesty she had forced from his lips. Under Belle's tutorship and praise, he had softened, not a lot, but people didn't seem to fear rent day so much and he had been known to help people out with deals that didn't benefit himself.
Belle had been obsessed with TV when she first found herself in the new world and, in particular, shows with strong women or crime. It seemed inevitable that she would develop a rather deep obsession with Charlie's Angels – strong, smart, sassy women, bucking trends and kicking butts. Which is what led to his current, rather pleasant situation. Belle and her partners in crime had all but kidnapped him earlier in the evening, bribing him into his tuxedo and dragging him out. Not that he could have said no to three such stunning ladies, dressed to kill in skin tight leather. If he lives another 20 lifetimes, he will never forget the looks of shock and outright jealousy from most of the male population of Storybrooke, when he walked into 'Regina's' garden, with his three angels hanging onto his arms.
Most people had come to terms with his relationship with Belle, although no one seemed to understand what she saw in him, himself included. Her loveliness winning her friends from day one and helping him to find some acceptance. She now stood 10 paces in front of him, like some guardian angel and he couldn't wait to strip her of those blue leather pants as soon as possible.
Ruby had never been afraid of him, as such, more she despised him, but when he had found her shaking in woods one moonlit night fighting her curse with every strength of her being, he didn't wait for her to beg for help, just held her close and with his magic, helped her calm the beast until he could dig out her cloak. Since then she had been his loudest cheerleader, even removing the nuns from Granny's after 'mother superior' made some snide and uncalled for comment against him. Dressed now in the tiniest red leather skirt he had ever seen, it wasn't hard to see the predator she could become.
But undoubtedly, the biggest boost to his acceptance, was his third 'angel', Emma Swan, the saviour and rightful princess of the realm. His considerable assistance restoring order after the breaking of the curse and subsequent chasing down of Regina, even if that problem wasn't yet solved, had encouraged the saviour to warm to him, but after he foiled the black knight's attempt to kidnap Henry, Emma had been devoted to him. Her and Belle were thick as thieves, so close in fact, that he had entertained the odd fantasy, which would only be encouraged and further developed by the sight of her green leather pants bumping up against Belle as they randomly struck poses in front of him.
He stretched out his legs, called to his lovely ladies that he needed a new drink, and relaxed. There would be time for problems tomorrow, time for researching and planning and despairing, but for now, he thought, as Belle landed in his lap with a new glass of whiskey, life was good!