Rumplestiltskin did not consider himself to be a brave man, or a strong man, or a particularly handsome man. But for the last several months he could honestly say he was a happy one. He knew the rest of the village was astounded that Belle had taken to passing her time watching him spin, although they couldn't possibly be more shocked than himself. The lass was the village beauty; she could barely walk out her front door without some young man or other clambering to impress her.
At first Rumplestiltskin was sure she only paid him a visit to escape the attention of those over-eager pups back in the village; but he liked to think there was something about his company she enjoyed enough to keep her coming back. Belle had a keen mind and a good head on her shoulders. He didn't have much to offer her, but Rumplestiltskin did have a wealth of stories to share with the curious girl. He loved to watch her face as she pictured the foreign realms from his tales; it seemed that her every thought would write itself in her features. He very rarely let himself pretend that she could be his.
Rumplestiltskin was certain he was dreaming the day her rose petal lips brushed against his. Still reeling from his good fortune, he found himself hand-fasted before the week was out.
0
Belle was a force of nature, endlessly capable and decisive. By some miracle she decided to make a life with Rumplestiltskin, a lowly spinner. The energy and zeal she put into running her new home amazed him. In all his years no one ever showed him as much care and concern as his little wife, and no one could possibly do the job with as much skill either. Rumplestiltskin would have moved the moon to make his Belle happy, but all she seemed to require was the freedom to make her own decisions. Rumplestiltskin gave her the power happily; as far as he was concerned, she could do no wrong.
Shyness had plagued the spinner from his extreme youth. He had never touched a woman until Belle pulled him down into their marriage bed. Shame burned him as he confessed his shortcomings to his bride. He never loved her more than when she whispered that it meant they belonged only to each other. Fearing he would hurt her with his rough hands and clumsy body he let her take the lead as he had with all other things. With patience and practice they learned the secrets of each other's bodies. It filled Rumplestiltskin with pride to watch his precious Belle walk about the town wearing the quiet confidence of a well-pleased wife.
The first year of his marriage was the happiest he had ever known. Belle had turned his humble cottage into a warm and cheerful home; her shrewdness in the marketplace guaranteed that his fine work sold for fair prices; and her love and companionship made Rumplestiltskin feel like a king among men. The Ogre Wars destroyed what they had built that year.
Conscription did not seem like an inevitability when the rumors first started filtering into their village. Rumplestiltskin was not an old man, but he had certainly left the days of his first youth behind him. Then the knights rode into town drafting every man fit enough to carry a spear. The thought of leaving Belle sickened him, but what truly plagued him was the thought of disgracing her. Rumplestiltskin was no soldier and he feared his instincts most often told him it was wiser to run than fight.
If he died Belle would have no trouble finding another husband. If anything, she had become more radiant over the course of the last year. The village boys respected her marriage vows enough to look rather than try and touch- but the visiting knights regarded his Belle in a way that was unsettling. His fears and worries made his last love-making with his wife desperate. His body staking its claim in spite of the leering knights and the uncertain future. Her voice had never sounded sweeter than when she begged him to return- to return to her and their baby.
0
His memories sustained him through the first months of battle and hardship. To his thinking the peasant spear-carriers were nothing but fodder for the blind ogres. Only the knights protected by formations of skilled archers stood much of a chance against the beasts. Silence was his best protection and he tried to fill his silent hours with secret visions of Belle. As more time passed, he quelled his fears imagining the way her body must be changing and expanding with their child. He knew she would be growing lovelier with every passing day.
The realities of war eventually managed to kill his fantasies. Images of mottled skin, dead eyes, and blood replaced fancies of his wife's delicate flushes. More than enough time had passed for the child to have been born and he resented every moment the futile war was stealing from his life. The military action was an attempt to gain more territory, not to defend established borders. After a full year elapsed, Rumplestiltskin decided he wasn't going to allow the greed of his "betters" to take any more from him. He refused to die without seeing his child.
His plan to run was the sheerest of folly. One of the knights brought him down from atop his steed. As punishment for his cowardice Rumplestiltskin was hobbled. They wrecked his knee and left him in no-man's-land. If he were to scream or make the least amount of noise he would have been fair game for the ogres. By some miracle he survived, crawling to safety and eventually finding his way back home. He was actually very fortunate; if he had stayed to fight he would have been slain in the raid that wiped out every other man from his village.
Belle was asleep when he hobbled into their cottage. In what was now his customary silence, he watched the rise and fall of her body, dreading her reaction to his disgrace. With a thud, he fell into bed next to her. He tried to focus on all the emotions playing across her face. The way her eyes fluttered open, her confusion at discovering she was not alone, her excitement to see him. He would savor every moment before he was forced to tell her the truth.
"You're real," she sobbed. "You're safe. Oh, I've missed you so! I love you, Rumplestiltskin."
He held her tightly, trying not to moan as she brushed against his knee.
"You're hurt! What's happened?" In her typical fashion Belle sprang into action, lighting the lamps and pulling up his trousers to survey the damage. "Oh, love," she breathed. "What happened?"
Shame halted Rumplestiltskin's speech. "It's no matter, dearie. I came home to you." He gathered her in his arms, wishing he never had to let her go.
"Thank the gods that you did." Belle kissed him tenderly before pulling away. Rumplestiltskin's eyes followed her as she made her way to a crib he failed to notice before. Tenderly she picked up a small bundle of blankets and presented it to him with a radiant smile. "This is your son. This is Baelfire."
All the pain left his body when Belle placed the boy in his arms. Wonder-struck, his fingers traced the baby's face. In spite of everything, only the memory of his first kiss with Belle could equal the perfection of that moment. He was a father. Baelfire's eyes opened and he was surprised to see they were as brown as his own; he had expected the babe to be a miniature version of Belle.
Rumplestiltskin barely noticed Belle arranging the three of them in bed, although he found himself hanging on her words as she described their time apart, gifting him with the precious details of her pregnancy and the first months of his son's life. He was so filled with love for his small family he found the courage he needed to speak the truth.
"Belle. Dearie, there's something I must tell you."
Sensing the importance of what he was about to say she drew herself as close to him as possible. "I'm listening."
"The ogres didn't do this," he muttered, keeping his eyes fixed on Bae. The words were halting, forced out of his throat one-by-one. "I... I'm afraid you're married to a coward."
"What do you mean?" Her voice was soft in its confusion.
"It was awful, Belle," Rumplestiltskin whispered, trying to control his trembling. "The battles... We can't win this war. There's too many of them. I saw so many people die, and every time I thought I'd be next."
Belle's voice came out as a reverent sigh, "Thank all the gods you weren't."
"I counted the days. I thought about you and the baby, about Bae. And after a year... I ran." Rumplestiltskin kept his voice low, hoping to mask his tears. "I ran away in the middle of the battle, and my entire unit was killed."
He stared down at his hands, face crumpling. Gods, he didn't want to cry in front of Belle. He didn't want to make his shame worse, to disappoint her further.
"Thank you," Belle whispered. Rumplestiltskin's head shot up, eyes wide. In the darkness, he could barely see her solemn face. He swallowed dryly, struggling for words.
"For what?" he managed finally.
"For coming home to us. Thank you." Belle's voice was so full of warmth he found it difficult to breathe.
She must not have understood. "I'm a coward, dearie." He had to make her understand. "They hobbled me."
"Bastards!" Her voice sharpened in anger, but softened as she addressed him. "It's no matter. You're home. You came home. That's all that matters to me."
Gratitude lightened Rumplestiltskin's spirit, while exhaustion weighed down his body. Cloistered in more love than he could have ever hoped to receive, sleep claimed him
0
The next morning Rumplestiltskin awoke to hell. Bae was screaming to be fed, the fire had died, and his leg was screaming in agony.
Belle had left him.
0
Keeping himself and Bae fed took almost more effort than Rumplestiltskin could find in himself to give. He allowed himself to believe Belle would come back far longer than any sensible person would have. He kept the cloak she left behind as a talisman; she would have at least worn her cloak if she meant to leave forever.
As the years passed, Rumplestiltskin clung to the pretty lies he told Bae. Belle loved them both, she would have given anything to be there with them. Even more than the lies, he clung to his memories of the perfect first year of his marriage. Those were the stories he told Baelfire, and he didn't care if it was wrong to paint an overly optimistic picture for the boy. Their life was hard; they deserved one beautiful thing.
Rumplestiltskin couldn't truly blame Belle for abandoning him. His name became a laughingstock in the village. Crippled, coward Rumplestiltskin. For the boy's sake, he wished she had taken Bae, given him his best chance at a new life. On the other hand, he was glad she left him someone to love.
0
The Ogre Wars came again, this time threatening to tear Bae away from his father. Rumplestiltskin vowed to move the heavens and earth to prevent Baelfire from being dragged onto the death fields. He knew that if Bae were taken he would truly turn to dust. The Dark Curse was no small price to pay, but it saved the boy.
0
Losing Bae to the magic bean fully unleashed the bitterness in his soul. He wasn't at fault. It was the damnable fairy and the war-mongering duke and Belle. Belle could have prevented it all if she hadn't abandoned her son. She had been poison from the start with her curls and her blue eyes and her lies. She never loved him or the boy.
As years turned to decades Rumplestiltskin devoted himself to two goals: finding Bae and the world without magic and confronting his errant wife. Creating the curse that would lead him to Baelfire would take centuries of plotting and planning. Finding Belle was proving equally troublesome. She had either jumped realms or died. With endless years and resources at his disposal the Dark One found the spell that would most eloquently accomplish his goals. He would travel back in time.
0
He was less than three years away from seeing his master curse cast over the land when he completed the spell that would send him into his past. Assembling the ingredients and channeling his power into its creation were no mean feat. The hardest part would be stopping himself from trying to alter the past. All he needed from Belle was one answer to the only question. Why? Why would she abandon them?
The journey backward was like being dropped from a great height. He found himself standing in front of their cottage in the early morning after he returned from the war. He had just enough time to render himself invisible before she walked out the door. Her chestnut curls were in two braids and she carried a basket in the crook of her arm. She was humming a soft tune as she walked toward the meadow. It was all Rumplestiltskin could do not to rip her heart from her chest. What right did she have to skip and hum, looking as innocent as a virgin while she was in the act of leaving her family?
Ignoring his impulse he followed her. Her basket contained no provisions so she must have been planning to meet someone. Rumplestiltskin wondered how long she had been carrying on with whoever it was. Once she reached the meadow Belle bent down in the long grasses seeking an herb, not a lover. Rumplestiltskin recognized it as an ingredient for a medicinal tea he used to drink, before the Dark Curse cured his knee.
He was about to reveal himself when two figures made their way toward Belle. Knights by the look of them. He had his answer; she traded life as the wife of a coward to be a whore to the gentry. The faces became recognizable as they drew close. Sir Gaston, a self-proclaimed hero of the ogre campaign. With him was Captain Killian Jones , a seafaring mercenary. The knowledge that one of them was her lover sent him reeling- they were responsible for crushing his knee.
Rumplestiltskin considered murdering them all where they stood, using his magic to steal the air from their lungs and leave them gasping. Not yet, Rumplestiltskin decided. He had a perverse desire to watch the treachery completely unfold.
"Hello, Belle," Sir Gaston crooned.
Belle stiffened visibly at the sound of his voice. She bobbed a quick curtsy. "Good morning, sir- knight."
Jones let out a low growl from between his teeth. "What would a young widow be doing out so early?"
"I'm no widow, sir." Her voice wavered slightly. "My husband has returned from the front. I've been gathering herbs for his wounds. Please excuse me, I need to be getting home to him."
Sir Gaston snaked an arm about her waist, "We have business with you, mistress. Unless you would like us to do you the honor of making you a widow."
"Can't imagine a pretty thing like you wanting to stay shackled to a disgraced coward. 'Twould be doing a service." Jones chuckled. "Though I can think of ways I would rather service you."
"Please, I need to go home. I- I have a son. He'll be needing fed."
"If you're nice to my friend and me, we'll let you go on your way. Isn't that right, Captain?"
"I don't know. I have a crew full of men that would be desirous of some pleasurable company."
Rumplestiltskin had seen more than enough. His Belle had never betrayed him. She had been stolen and broken by these beasts.
"Is this what passes for chivalry these days?" Rumplestiltskin drawled making his presence known. Not giving the startled men a chance to answer he casually flicked his wrist at Sir Gaston. The knight transformed into a red rose in a puff of purple smoke.
In a fluid motion he scooped up the flower and proffered it to Belle. "Go home."
Then he rounded on Jones, "I find that the plight of your lonely crew tugs at my heart. Such a wretched feeling. Let me show you what I mean."
With a force even he found surprising Rumplestiltskin reached into the fiend's chest and pulled out his heart. Maintaining eye contact he crushed the organ into dust.
Jones muttered something that might have been the word "crocodile" before he shuddered and died.
Rumplestiltskin passed several long moments wondering what effects his actions might have had on the fabric of time. Changing his past must have surely altered his future. A choked sob brought him out of his reverie. Belle was still frozen where he had left her. "Go home, dearie." he repeated. The sound of his voice seemed too much for her. She fainted dead away.
He caught her, of course. Being the Dark One gave him cat-like reflexes. Her weight in his arms was heavenly, the sensation of holding her was both foreign and familiar. Intoxicating. Rumplestiltskin meant to carry her home, to restore her to his son and former self. Fate seemed to have other plans.
Belle awoke to find herself in the arms of a monster. So fresh from her ordeal with the knights, her first instinct was to lash out. Flailing wildly her fist connected with the delicate heart of the spell, dropping them both into the unknown future.
0
Rumplestiltskin released Belle when his own post-shifting dizziness subsided. Her look of terror brought out his own inner coward and he placed her in an enchanted sleep. With a thought and gesture he placed her in the castle's finest bedroom, far removed from his own chamber. He took refuge at his wheel, silently spinning into the night.
As always he lost himself in the rhythm of the wheel. Usually the repetitive movements helped him forget, but every spin of the wheel brought back a memory. Every creak seemed to whisper, "She didn't leave you." He loved her still.
0
Hours, maybe days passed before he became aware of anything but his inner musings and the wheel. A tentative hand touched his shoulder. "Rumplestiltskin?"
His name on her lips nearly made him jump out of his skin. "You- you recognize me?"
Belle's mouth twitched slightly, "You look different, but I would recognize your spinning anywhere. Are- are you really making gold?"
Rumplestiltskin nodded.
"Where's Bae?"
"Belle, a lot has changed since this morning. This morning was a long time ago."
"Where is Baelfire?"
"He's safe." That was true enough. Their son was safe, but out of reach.
"Have you- have you been cursed? Should I kiss you?"
He shook his head, the idea that she actually loved him made his throat constrict. Tempting as her offer was, he needed the curse to take them to Bae.
"Dearie, I have a long story to tell you. And I need you to be brave."
Rumplestiltskin used to watch her as he told her stories. It was his favorite part of their courtship. This story of loss and betrayal brought a new sadness to her face and he could see his own misery reflected in her overflowing eyes.
"You really thought I abandoned you?" Belle sobbed.
Rumplestiltskin nodded. "But I never let Baelfire believe it," he said fiercely, desperate for her to believe him. "He loved you Belle, and I let him know how much you loved him."
"You didn't believe it though."
"A part of me did."
"And I can never go back?"
"No dearie, you broke..." He held up a broken glass vial. "This was the heart of the spell. It broke after you fainted."
"You were holding me and I struggled... Can't you make another?"
"I can't go somewhere I've been before, or I would have went back for Bae."
"Bae's gone. You're... immortal and cursed, and I'm trapped."
"It's not so bad, dearie," Rumplestiltskin said pulling Belle down to sit with him at the wheel. "Bae's not dead, not gone forever. I have a plan to get him back. We... we could be a family again."
"Tell me everything." she whispered. Her head dropped onto his shoulder; Rumplestiltskin looked at her - his loving wife, back again - and took a deep breath.
0
It seemed that the marriage of Belle and Rumplestiltskin, now known as Mr. and Mrs. Gold, was never fated to be understood by their neighbors in any universe. They were often jokingly referred to as Beauty and the Beast, though never to their faces. Mr. Gold was by no means an ugly man, but he was fearsome. His wife was easily one of the most beloved persons in Storybrooke.
Rumplestiltskin couldn't care less about local gossip. It pleased him to know that he could protect his wife with his reputation. The years of the curse were a soothing balm to Mr. Gold. Centuries of planning and hard work were never closer to culmination. The wait was chaffing to Belle, although she never blamed her husband. He had interrupted time itself and rescued her from what promised to be a fate worse than death.
Mr. Gold all but ran the town of Storybrooke, but Belle was the undisputed manager of their home. Rumplestiltskin wouldn't have it any other way. There would never be enough time to make up for the years he lost with Belle- there was only one missing piece.
0
"This is it?" Belle asked him, looking around the clearing that looked like a thousand other clearings they'd passed through on their way to get here. Rumplestilskin nodded, intent on the piece of fabric in his hand, part of one of Bae's shirts. By bringing magic back, he had no doubt helped Regina, but Rumplestiltskin couldn't bring himself to be sorry. Not when it allowed him to pinpoint exactly where the vortex would dump Bae.
"He won't know me," she murmured, once again voicing the thought that had been bothering her since the day in the Dark Castle when he'd shared his plan to reunite them with Bae. Although he'd told her everything about Bae's life, she feared nothing could make up for the fact that she hadn't been there.
"No," Rumpelstiltskin agreed, his eyes dark with worry, "But he will."
Wind whipped through the clearing although it didn't touch any of the trees, and Rumplestiltskin helped Belle to her feet, the pair of them leaning against each other as a green light started to glow in midair. "This is it."
The green light grew and started to swirl, turning into a vortex, a familiar voice caught Rumplestiltskin's ear. "PAPA!"
A small figure fell from the vortex which disappeared immediately, leaving him lying on the forest floor. A boy of fourteen looked up at the pair of them, looking uncertain. "Papa?"
Rumpelstiltskin nodded solemnly and held out his arms. Bae ran into them at once, "You came with me after all! You came! You gave it up!"
They'd explain eventually, but there would be time for that. Now they had time for everything. Rumpelstiltskin hugged Bae fiercely close before relaxing his hold enough to look him in the face, "Bae, I will never let you go again. Now, I want you to listen to me. I told you your mother was dead, but I was wrong. She didn't die; she didn't leave us; she was stolen, and I found her. I found your mama, Bae."
He turned Bae to look at her, the boy's eyes searching Belle's face as eagerly as she was looking at him. "Oh, Bae, how I've missed you," she managed to choke out through her tears; Rumplestiltskin knew she was afraid to extend her arms for a hug that she might not get.
The sturdy body colliding with hers nearly knocked Belle off her feet, and she clung to her son, sobbing in earnest. "Bae. Oh, Baelfire!"
His voice was muffled against her breasts, and the sound of it nearly brought her to her knees, "Hello, Mama."
Rumplestiltskin grinned through tears of his own, a happy man once more.
A/N Shifting Sands is on my top ten list of favorite fanfictions, but it always made me wonder what would have prevented Belle from returning apart from Rumplestiltskin's intervention. I saw on tumblr that someone else had a similar idea so I asked the talented Bad Faery if I could write a remix. I chose to write from Rumplestiltskin'a perspective to shake things up further- I mean it's the same story apart from one important detail. I hope everyone enjoys!