Midwinter in the Enchanted Forest was the stuff of legend. Snow covered trees, icy ponds, Yuletide festivals adorning the paths with brightly colored decorations and flickering candles: everything one could wish for. However, with that beauty came some of the bitterest cold known.
It was on one of these early, wintry morns that Belle set off for the market. The sun was still over an hour away from rising when she reached her target and acquired the necessary straw for Rumplestiltskin's spinning within just moments. A chill shot through her as she milled around the stalls, draped over with billowing fabrics of various colors, covering the snowy forest floor in a patchwork quilt. As she wandered, she purchased a small bouquet of lush purple hellebores and delicate snowdrops and a pair of deep orange taper candles with a warm cinnamon scent. Normally, she didn't give in to that type of frivolity, but she couldn't seem to help herself.
She strolled idly under in the pre-dawn light, taking in the bustling of the merchants and smiling to herself. Winter was Belle's favorite time of year, and, if she did say so herself, it truly brought out the best in people. Still, she thought, it would be better if it wasn't so damned cold. She tightened the drawstrings of her cape and toyed with the leather laces. Leather? She brought it around her, observing it curiously. The cape was burgundy and very clearly belonged to The Dark One. She sighed a little. Hopefully, he wouldn't mind much, or have to go out at all. He certainly wouldn't be quick to grab her light blue one, so she'd feel just terrible if he were to catch a chill due to her carelessness.
The sky blossomed into marvelous pinks, golds and light blues that warned her to make her way back to the Dark Castle if she wished to be back before Rumple had finished what remained of the straw pile he'd been working from when she left. Still, Belle had one more item she needed before she was ready to leave the market. She sought out something to thaw herself from the inside out before heading for home. She still struggled to call the drafty old place home, but did it with growing frequency. Try though he might, the master of the castle couldn't hide the slight smile that formed across his thin lips when she did. Belle always noticed his smile. It was proof that there was a man underneath that hardened, frightening exterior after all. She'd made it one of her personal goals to make it a more common occurrence than even his practiced scowl.
Setting her sights on the area she knew sold the more mouth-watering of wares, the girl headed into the vibrant red and purple tent from where she'd seen men exit earlier with tankards of steaming beverages. At this point, she didn't much care if it was tea, cocoa, mead, or something else entirely. She just had to shake the worst of the bitter cold.
Belle nodded a polite hello to the merchant, shivering violently as the wind whipped through the opening behind her. Throughout the stall were cakes and brews of every color and flavor imaginable.
As she made her way to the innermost wall of the space, she lingered over a bubbling brew in a deep scarlet tone. The withered old woman behind the table of boiling pots smiled a crooked smile and proffered her one. "For warmth. Something to get the chill from your bones, your blood rising, and inspire heat all around. Just the thing for a girl like you, I shouldn't wonder," she croaked.
"Thank you," Belle said. "That's exactly what I need." She inhaled deeply over the mug while digging the coins from her satchel to pay for the drink. "Apple, Cinnamon, and…?" she hesitated.
The old woman wouldn't bite. "Old family secret," she said with a wink. "You drink that all up and I'd bet you'll be sweating by mid-day."
Belle smiled to herself and exited the merchant's stand, drinking the warm brew down in great gulps. She wondered for a moment if she'd be able to replicate it when she returned to the castle. She'd love to share some with Rumplestiltskin, but at this rate, she doubted very much she'd have any left. Perhaps he'd be able to taste it on her lips. But would that have the same effect?
Belle stopped dead in her tracks. Where had that come from? It wasn't as though she'd never thought about him that way. It wasn't as though that would be their first kiss. But when, she wondered, did she begin to assume that it would be a given?
Shaking the pervasive thoughts of Rumplestiltskin from her head, she pressed on for home. Home. There was that word again. She'd always been told that home was where the heart is. Considering her newfound ease at using it, maybe- just maybe- she thought, her heart lay with Rumplestiltskin. Her stomach flipped nervously. She drained back the dregs of the tankard and stuffed it down in her satchel, careful not to disturb the straw in the basket perched on her arm.
Breathing in deeply, she caught a whiff of a familiar, magical, leathery aroma and found her gait quicken. It disturbed her how much just a small reminder of him had parts of her completely distracted from her journey. It wasn't a particularly long walk, and while most days she longed to be able to take a horse to expedite her return, she was relieved to not have the motion to make her current state any worse.
She'd been traveling on for an hour and a half, and most of her trek now behind her. A bead of perspiration formed on her upper lip as she fought once more with her thoughts - thoughts that grew continually more pervasive as she grew closer to the castle. She rested upon a downed tree for a moment, realizing she hadn't actually stopped moving for quite some time. Then came those thoughts, now all too familiar, of Rumplestiltskin's slender form, hunched over his spinning wheel, fingers nimbly working the straw into flawless golden threads. Still, she thought of a better use for those hands. She imagined them flitting with just as much skill over her bare breasts, grazing lightly over her nipples, trailing down to her waist, pulling her flush against him as he-
Belle recoiled at her own daydream, her face flushed and skin red hot. It was unlike her to get this aroused unprovoked.
The silhouette of the Dark Castle began to rise in the distance. Belle grasped at her chest, ignoring the tension pooling between her legs, and sped on, taking the last leg at a jog. She dashed through the gates and headed for the heavy oaken doors. She pulled one open with a groan and ran up the stairs to the dining room, where she knew he would be by his spinning wheel at the window, awaiting her return. She paused briefly in the entryway to neaten herself up before seeing him. When she'd readied herself, she walked in, as light and breezy as she could manage despite the way her pulse seemed to head for her groin at the mere sight of him exactly where she'd imagined- except that his vest had been doffed and lay draped across his stool. Good, she thought, less chance of having to mend the buttons I'll inevitably pop trying to get that off. She set her bag and the basket of straw on the table and stood still, calculating her next move.
"Took my cloak by mistake, I see?" the older man cooed. "Or did we decide that the bedsheet that you call a cloak wasn't warm enough?" He giggled to himself as he crossed to the table, procuring the straw. "I don't mind, either way, dearie. It looks better on you, anyway." He turned immediately back to the window, adding the straw to the pile and setting back about his spinning.
Now was her chance. Be bold, Belle, she thought. Twisting her arm behind her back, she began undoing the ties of her bright blue day dress and let it drop to the floor, dragging the silken undergarment she wore down with it, leaving her completely bare save for the cloak and her shoes. She took a few steps toward Rumplestiltskin. "What if that was all I had on?"
Rumplestiltskin paused a moment. Had he actually heard what he thought he did? He turned cautiously on his heel. "Do you want to say that again, dearie? I'll warn you, it's not nice to tease..." By the time he was facing her, he'd trailed off, hardly able to remember what he was going to say. His tongue grew thick. His heart raced. He felt the need to blink, as if to test if he was dreaming, but couldn't bring himself to do it. What if it was a dream and she was no longer there? Suddenly, none of that mattered much as he found himself dealing with a stirring in his trousers he scarcely believed he'd experience again.
"I wouldn't tease," Belle answered. "You're all I could think about today."
"...M-me?" he stammered.
She chose to answer not with words, but with action. She walked toward him, grabbed his hand and pulled him to her, guiding him to settle his hand on the crest of her bottom. Then she kissed him desperately, lacing her hands in his hair.
He stumbled back, awestruck by her advance. He grasped her shoulders, keeping her at arm's length lest she try it again. "Now, wait a moment," he panted. "What brought this on?"
Belle furrowed her brow. "I want you, Rumplestiltskin," she purred.
That can't be it, the man thought. He led her back to the table and sat her atop it. "Even if I believed that," he said, talking over her protests, "Even if I believed that, shouldn't we talk about it first before we do whatever it is you were aiming for?"
"Does it require saying?" she asked, arching her back and spreading her legs slightly, allowing him full view of her body.
"And if I say no?" he asked pointlessly. He had no intention of saying no, but her insistence had him concerned. A million and one possibilities ran through his mind- what she was trying to accomplish, who might have told her to do it, and the not-unlikely chance of supernatural complications.
She sighed, pushing herself forward off the table. Upon reaching him, she sunk to her knees. Palming his crotch and looking up at him doe-eyed , she said "I don't think you want to do that, do you?" Ignoring the ache that was dwelling in her core temporarily, since she expected that the only way she was going to get what she wanted was to get him there herself, she focused on Rumple. He was already half-hard by the time she undid the laces at the front of his pants and peeled the skin tight leather off. She grinned deviously, finally looking down at what was in front of her and silently thanking her lucky stars he was as large as she'd been imagining.
Taking the shaft in her hand, Belle looked back up at Rumplestiltskin. "I've been dying to hear you scream my name," she said before she busied her tongue with other tasks.
First, she swirled delicate lines around the head.
Rumplestiltskin closed his eyes, taking a sharp breath of air. For months he'd fantasized about being intimate with his maid, but he'd never allowed himself this. This was too much. It had been so long since he'd been with another. He'd convinced himself no one could want this with him - could want anything with him. Still, here she was, his beautiful Belle, lithe and wanting and willing and all for him.
Belle began licking long, light lines up and down. When she felt his hands lace in her hair, it was clear she was onto something. Sinking her mouth down around what she could of his length, she slowly moved herself back and forth, up and down his hard cock. She cupped his balls in her hands, rubbing her thumb over them lightly.
"Belle, I..." he trailed off, closing whatever it was off to a strangled sound. Her warm, wet mouth bobbing around him was all he could think of. His hips thrust steadily. She felt so good around him, doing all the right things. Her instincts were so tuned in with all his wants. All his needs. Need. That was the word. "I need to," he panted, the throbbing in his groin making it near impossible to pull back from her, "need to give to you."
"There'll be time for that," she said, maneuvering herself closer to him.
"No," he said sternly. "Now." He lifted her to her feet and kissed her hard, tasting himself on her mouth and smiling.
He was so preoccupied with getting her back to the table that he'd forgotten that her dress must be around somewhere. That somewhere, now, was twisted in the heels of her shoes - and she was beginning to topple over.
Belle gave a high pitched squeak and dug her fingernails into his shoulders for stability. She didn't once once break the kiss until she'd regained her balance and needed to get his shirt over his head. She tossed the off white fabric aside unceremoniously.
Tightening his grip around her waist, Rumple finally got them both to his destination, banging her backside on the table with an unceremonious thud and clatter of glasses. He undid the drawstrings around her neck and laid the cloak over the cold wood and gently guided her back.
She propped herself on the heels of her hands, not wanting to lose sight of a second of what was going to happen, not after the day she'd had.
Rumplestiltskin leaned over, kissing her hard, one hand's strong grip on the left side of her neck. The other danced teasingly down her chest before resting momentarily on her hip, sending a chill up her spine.
He moved his mouth down her neck and her lips mourned the loss for a moment before pressing hard atop his head when he reached the sweet spot near the point of her collar bone. Her eyes flitted shut and she writhed a bit beneath him, hips betraying her own attempts at restraint. But Rumplestiltskin wasn't finished.
By now, his hands had moved to grasp her bottom. He licked a trail down the valley of her breasts, sucked a dark hickey just below her navel and began work at her pussy. He kissed lightly around her folds, not wanting to rush it, even if she was already dripping wet. Rumplestiltskin began tonguing strong patterns into her, careful to address the tiny nub at the top he'd always gotten rave responses to. She moaned each time he hit it, finally reaching down and lacing her fingers into his hair.
Belle bucked into him, urging him to stay there and go so much harder. As he sucked a bit on that spot, she wondered where he'd picked up that particular skill. He was familiar with magic and she'd be damned if that's not what she would have imagined positive magic to feel like had she ever really thought about it before. Obviously, he'd been with other people before her. Obviously. He'd been married. He had a child. But, the man was also centuries older.
She was jolted out of her distraction by the addition of his first finger.
Dragging him up to her with fists full of his hair, she said "Don't waste time. I need you inside of me now." She stared him down a bit intimidatingly.
Rumple had never thought Belle would be so forceful, but who was he to complain? He obliged, taking her by the hand and sliding her toward him. He slid himself into her, gauging her thoughtfully. "How's that?" he asked when he was about halfway in.
"More," she begged. "More. Deeper.
Again, he did, sliding in, his warm hands gripping her firm ass tightly. Belle made a loud whimper and he knew that was right. He began thrusting in and out, slowly at first, but he began to speed up to meet her.
She leaned forward, resting her head on his shoulder. She'd been fighting the tension in her jaw the whole time, but she couldn't any longer. She bit into his shoulder and began to suck, leaving angry red welts all over his shoulders and chest. Rumple hardly even noticed. He was getting so close that she'd have had to do a lot worse to hurt him. "Are you nearly there?" he asked, voice more akin to a growl.
She threw her head back and nodded. She knew herself well enough to know that it wouldn't take much more for her to fall over the precipice.
"Then kiss me," he said. It wasn't a command. More of an offering. A gesture of intimacy. And she did, leaning forward and knocking her bag from the table with a clatter that she hardly noticed over her own moans.
His hands found better placement around her waist, allowing him the force she so desired. Rumple picked up speed and strength with each passing moment. Belle broke the kiss, gasping for air, moans turning to screams of pleasure. She gripped him tighter, fingernails digging into his back and leaving eight white crescents along his flawless, sweat-slicked shoulders.
Moments later, he finished, too, cumming directly inside her. Normally, he would have asked, but Belle certainly didn't seem to want him to be any farther away than inside of her.
She felt the frenzied tension she'd built up over the day melt away and she pulled Rumplestiltskin to lay on top of her. She found herself paying close attention to their hearts, beating fast but in a rhythm with each other. They fit like a glove. There was no denying it.
After a minute or two of silence, Rumple began feeling anxious. It had been so long, but if he wasn't mistaken, that was good. Possibly the best he'd ever had. Then why wasn't she talking? Didn't most of the ladies get chatty after? A million questions wove a delicate thread around his head and he could no longer take it. He had to break the silence. "So, you've done that before?" he stammered.
"Once or twice," she said. And that was true. Though neither time had she had any agency in it. Gaston had told her it was her duty as his soon-to-be wife that she learn how he like things. Luckily for her, that didn't seem to be something she'd have to do after all.
"You're a natural," he replied as he stood up and moved aside so she could do the same. A moment later, he was chiding himself for the comment - that is, until he noticed her beaming at him.
Belle began the search to retrieve her dress. The room fell silent again, save for the sounds of cloth and leather as the pair dressed themselves. She crossed back to him and pulled her dark hair away from the lacing in the back and gestured for him to help her. "I don't know what came over me. I just suddenly needed to..." she shrugged, turning to face Rumplestiltskin with a smile, "Do that with you. Immediately."
"Suddenly?" he asked, brushing a few tousled strands back behind her ear.
She blushed a bit. It was surprising, really, that such a small, innocuous interaction could make her blush so, considering he'd just seen every unabashed inch of her. "Well, I'd thought about it before, and I've wanted to for some time, but this was overwhelming."
Overwhelming. Rumplestiltskin knew that people thought many things of him as The Dark One and as his former self: coward, cripple, deserter, frightening, demanding, threatening, forceful, devious, and evil, just to name a few. One more word shouldn't have shocked him. Still, that list was lacking a lot in the way of positive, and to know that Belle of all people found him overwhelming was enough to set his world on its ear. "I should have you know, this wasn't the first time I'd thought about sex with you either."
The girl responded with a lingering kiss, letting him know that it wasn't going to be the last time. "Let me go wash up and then I'll make us dinner." She picked up her satchel from the floor and proceeded to stuff her new treasures back inside.
"I'll help you with that," Rumple said, picking up the tankard and turning it over in his hands. "Belle, where did you get this?" he asked, his voice heavy with concern.
"The market this morning. It was bitter cold and a kind old lady was selling hot drinks from..."
Rumplestiltskin's eyes grew wide with panic. He interrupted her. "A red and purple tent?"
"Yes! How did you..." she asked. Surely, he hadn't been spying on her. He couldn't have seen the tent before because, come to think of it, she'd never seen it previously.
He lifted the cup so smell it. "What was in this tankard?" He dipped a long finger inside, trying to feel for any remnants.
"Cider. Why?" she asked, standing up and crossing her arms defensively.
Rumplestiltskin sighed. "What have I told you about women offering apples, dearie?"
She thought over countless conversations about his magical doings. The one point he'd made sure to hammer home was the cursed fruit, especially apples, with their links to Christian ideologies linked to temptation. "Not to trust them, but she wasn't offering apples. It was cider," she shrugged.
Straightening up himself, he nodded, considering her. "What was this cider made from, then?"
"Apples, cinnamon, and..." she recounted.
"'An old family recipe,' passed down from her mother, that her mother learned from me. The 'kind, old lady' of whom you speak was Queen Regina," he said, but Belle would have none of it.
"No, Rumple, I'd know if it were her," she said, trying to reassure him. She knew who she was - and this old, withered hag was not her.
He rolled his eyes a bit, gesturing wildly. "She's a master of glamours. Even I'd have difficulty realizing at first," he said, emphasizing it to her.
"But then, what was the secret."
"A spell," he said.
"A spell?" she asked disbelievingly.
"An aphrodisiac."
Aphrodisiac. She'd read about those. Innocuous items that have arousing properties. That couldn't have been it. Could it have? Belle mulled it all over. "An aphrodisiac spell. But why? I was looking for warmth, not... heat."
He nodded knowingly. "And were you cold at any point after drinking it?" That was so like Regina. But why Belle? What could she possibly want with her?
Belle thought about her trip back home. Now that he brought it up, she'd actually come close to taking her cloak off a few times, not to mention her perspiration. No, really, she hadn't been cold at all. "No, come to think of it," she affirmed.
"Then it did what you asked, didn't it?" he asked, tossing the mug aside.
"Yes, but..." She wilted. It was obvious that he was right. How could she have been so careless. What if it had been something worse?
"And, it's a spell of my creation," he continued. Belle's eyes darted to him. His creation? Her mind traveled a mile a minute trying desperately, suddenly worried against all logic that somehow she'd screwed this up, or made it up. As though he read all of that in her eyes, he hurriedly added, "I assure you it didn't alter your will in any way. This was done completely by your own choice."
"I know that. My only concern is why," she fibbed.
"Why what?" he asked. Hopefully she wasn't asking his morality on the invention of the particular spell. He'd stumbled upon it completely accidentally, but it had, on occasion, been the subject of unsavory dealings with the frequenters of seedy taverns along the main trade road.
Belle looked down, hoping not to let her other questions slip. "Why did she want me to have this particular spell?"
He searched for a response and found none. Looking right at Belle, he decided he needed to find out. For her. "That is a good question. I'll have to pay her a little visit and find out." He moved to grab his cloak from the table.
Quickly, she placed her hand atop his. "But maybe not tonight?" she suggested, staring him down. She had a feeling she might be needing him closer by than a faraway castle tonight.
"Why not?" he asked, oblivious. "I could go after dinner and be back before you even..."
Belle cut him off. She repositioned herself in front of him, looking directly in his eyes and emphasizing each word. "I don't think the effects have quite worn off yet..." She raised her eyebrows suggestively.
After a moment, Rumplestiltskin understood quite well why Belle might not have wanted him to leave so quickly, and he couldn't agree more.