A Few Good Years
Chapter One
"It's time," she said, slowly closing the heavy book that was perched on her frail lap. She blinked her watery grey eyes, once such a vibrant blue, trying to still herself against his inevitable resistance.
"Already?" He asked, panic already beginning to pool in his eyes as her words and all their significance began to unravel his nerves.
"But-"
"No 'buts', my love, you knew it was coming, I know you've realised how weak I'm getting, I can feel it every time you touch me," He averted his gaze, hating that she had picked up on the apprehension in his touch, the hesitant movements he clumsily made when approaching her now. He sighed, moving up from his armchair and crossing the distance between them to sit beside her on the couch, shifting her thick blanket out the way to perch closer. She welcomed his presence, taking his hands in hers. It had been too long since he had approached her so bravely. She knew he was getting afraid to be near her, trying desperately to avoid the truth which was only too evident now she saw the contrast in their skin. She frowned down at their clasped hands.
"Look," she whispered, he followed her gaze, shocked to finally see up close what he had been denying to himself.
Her hands were almost translucent, the pale skin which once was rosy with the first blooms of love, and then shined in her happiness as a wife, mother, grandmother… now resembled the maps they used to argue over on their trips around the realm, him insisting he could magic them anywhere, that he didn't need a bloody map, her laughing, kissing his grumbles away and insisting they explore "properly". The blue and green veins that had carried her through seventy-two years drew bumpy lines up her arms.
She looked back up at him, her tired heart breaking a little at the pain so clearly etched in his amber eyes. She leant forward, pressing her brow to his, sighing contently when he didn't pull away. He seemed to draw on what little strength she had left, as he always had.
"It's time, Rumple. I'm tired. I feel… I'm starting not to feel like me anymore. I feel ready to… ready to go, and I don't want that" He whimpered at her confession, his hand darting up to cradle her cheek, still as soft as the first day he'd touched her.
"Please, Belle," he begged, closing his eyes, the tears falling unchecked across his own weathered cheek, "please, give me some more time, I don't know if I can go through the pain of having you hate me again" She smiled sadly, slowly pushing back so she could look into his eyes.
"There is no more time, Rumple, I fear any longer and…and it might be too late." His eyes widened, the devastation burning like fire straight to her soul.
"But…"
"Rumple, please, do it before that happens. Do it and…" she leant forward and kissed him gently, barely whispering her next words against his lips
"Do it and we can start again… we can fall in love again" she kissed him again, knowing her words were bringing him only a measure of comfort. Her memory was fading, but she knew how painful her rejection had been last time around.
Every time they started again he feared she would change her mind and love another. He didn't seem to believe that she could fall in love with him more than once, as if the first time was a fluke. He still didn't realise, after all these years, that he was her soulmate, and that no matter what she'd find him.
"Belle… it took so long for you to come home to me this time… what if, what if we do this, and you don't? What if I lose you?"
"You're not going to lose me, I promise. My memories will all still be there, you just had to awaken them"
"True Love's Kiss" he said, almost bitterly, "and that worked so well last time."
He flounced away from her to his feet, pacing the Great Hall before her, one clawed hand reaching up to rake through his unruly curls. She brushed a grey curl away from her shoulder and settled her hands in her lap, knowing it was best to wait it out when he let his emotions have free-reign for a while. He muttered to himself as he went- seeming to almost forget she was there until she gave a sudden pained cough. His head snapped up worriedly, his eyes narrowing in on her.
"Belle, are you ill?" he said, his voice betraying his anger. How he wished he had never allowed her to talk him into blocking her health from his vision. She'd insisted, adamantly stating that he'd never relax and let her have a moment's peace if he was always monitoring her inner-goings on. He'd been enraged of course, sulking for a week and then giving in as he always did. He'd never been able to refuse Belle.
He strode over to her, his frown deepening as he crouched before her.
"Belle, please, tell me what it is, maybe I can heal you"
She stopped coughing, the exertion of it all taking it's toll on her body and her mood,
"You can't!" she shouted "and even if you could, I wouldn't want you to!" he started as if she'd slapped him, confusion and hurt shining in his eyes. She reached for him, cradling his face in her frail hands
"What I mean is," she said, her voice softening, "that I hate the way I am. I hate that you don't want to touch me," She gently pressed her fingertips to his mouth as he made to protest, "Rumple… when we fell in love you used to tell me how you couldn't understand how I could love you, how you couldn't believe that I could desire you… don't you understand that it's hard for me too? You've watched me grow old and change whilst you… you have stayed the same. I'm tired, Rumple, I'm tired of feeling like this all the time. I'm ready to start again." She leant into him, her tired grey eyes imploring him with every ounce of energy she had left, "please bring me back"
He sighed with resignation. He'd never been able to refuse Belle
"Ok, my darling." She wrapped her arms around him, relief flooding her body and soul and relieving her of her last degree of energy. He swept her up gently in his arms, carrying her bridal-style towards to doors and up the long winding staircase to their bedchamber. He laid her down carefully on their bed, grief and heartache in his eyes as he made to leave the room for his tower to make the necessary arrangements.
"Wait-" she whispered, the argument having made her weary and weak. He stopped, but refused to meet her eyes. She reached out for him, pleading with him to have faith in her, in their love. He took her hand, slowly lowering himself onto the bed to sit beside her.
"I will remember, Rumple, I promise. So long as I live I will love you. Please believe me, it will be fine, we will be together again." He smiled sadly, finally meeting her gaze, the tears shining brightly in his amber orbs.
"We shall see," he said, moving to go.
As he stood up, something in his chest twanged, as if someone were dragging a razor slowly across his heart. This could be it, he thought, knowing full well The Dark One was not lucky enough to find his True Love a third time. He turned around, almost unable to bear the finality and enormity of the moment.
"Know this," his voice cracked, but he persevered despite the pain, "know this, my Belle, I was incapable of love until you. You are all the good in me, and without you I would be… I will be lost. If this is it, I'm so grateful for every moment we have had, because Gods know it's more than I deserve. You've made me better, Belle, and for that I will love you, forever. Even if you can't love me". And with that he swept out of the room. She smiled sadly as fatigue tried to pull her away too soon.
"We shall see," she smiled, "I will find you again Rumple, just trust me…" she closed her eyes, falling into her last sleep.
He returned an hour later, carrying the case containing vile upon vile of the necessary potion. It was the one brew he kept in ample supply. He moved to her side, picking up her left hand a retrieving the homespun gold wedding ring she had worn for fifty-two years. He poured the potion over the ring, slowly edging it back onto her finger. He stood over her, almost numb to the task, his heavy heart already blackening with the steady loss of his love, the goodness ebbing away with each word he enacted. A green mist began to hum around her body, the magic already stripping her of the years they had shared, her skin glowing, pulsing, and rejuvenating. Her hair shone brilliant silver as a streak of pure chestnut slicked its way from root to tip, her whole head suddenly glowing mahogany. He smiled distractedly,
I never told her how proud I was of her every day, how I marvelled at the grey and silver in her hair, she was always my equal, always my beauty
He shut his eyes, blocking the thought out
This was what she wanted what she wanted what she wanted
But what about what I need I could have just died with her-NO!
Instantly he shot the errant thought dead. As painful and heart wrenching as it would be, he would rather live without her than have a world exist without his Belle.
He kept his eyes shut, trying to quell the raging emotions within his heart, trying to calm himself before-
"Hello? Where am I? Who are you?"
He opened his eyes, his breath hitched in his throat as two scared azure eyes blazed up at him
"Belle…" he breathed, reaching out for her, unable to stop himself. She jumped off the bed, her cheeks red with anger and confusion
"Who are you and where am I?!"
