Originally posted as a T-Rated One-Shot but has grown into an M-Rated Two-Part.

*This was written for the "Happy Holidays" writing challenge for Come-hither. I hope you enjoy this little AU Christmas story!

A Christmas Rose

Rumpelstiltskin furrowed his brow and scowled as he watched his young caretaker. She had been unusually quiet all day and had hardly said a word to him. At breakfast she had opted to merely read a book instead of engage him in conversation. She hadn't even turned a page, instead she just absentmindedly stared at an open book with a blank and almost dissolute look on her face. Her detachment vexed him for he thought she had become happy with him in the past few months but as the winter chill had spread its way into his realm, she slowly began to withdraw from him. A smile, that was what he craved from her. More than anything in the world he wanted to see his little Belle smile.

He tried to stifle a small smirk from forming on his face as he thought about the words "his Belle". True, she was legally his property. There was a contract signed and dated with her name etched in gold confirming that fact. But he had begun to think of her as more than just a scullery maid or a gloried housekeeper. In the six months that she had lived with him, dined with him, talked with him and even confided dreams with him, his icy heart had slowly begun to melt for her. She was his closest companion, his only friend, his…his…well he wasn't exactly sure how to define how he felt about her, but all he was sure about was that he desperately wanted to see her lovely red lips curl up into a radiant smile once again.

"Belle," he asked, soft enough so that he wouldn't startle her, but loud enough that his words could be heard over the spinning of his wheel. "Dearie, are you listening to me?"

"Humm? I'm sorry. Were you talking to me?" she replied, looking up from her dusting.

"I think we are both in need of a break. Some tea, perhaps?"

"Oh, yes, I'm sorry I didn't even realize how late it was getting," she said, flustered as she scrambled her way over to the table where the blue and white tea set sat waiting.

"Tis no matter. You've been busying yourself all over the castle today, dearie. Are you trying to distract yourself from something? An anniversary of a past love perhaps?" he quipped, trying but failing at making her laugh.

"No, I'm fine. Maybe just a little cold, it has been snowing for days," she said with a shrug as just nodded her head to the window.

"Ah, that it has. It might be better to take our tea by the fire instead of the table, don't you think?" Placing his hand gently on the small of her back he began moving her slowly across the room towards the hearth. Very rarely had he ever touched her. He figured since he could not spare her the sight of him, he could at least make sure she never had to suffer the touch of a monster. Oh, but she looked so soft and inviting at that moment and there was nothing in the world that could keep him from relishing the feeling of her warm body, although hidden under many layers of fabric, from touching his fingertips. His hand immediately felt heated and the warmth seemed to spread up his arm then all over his body. He had experienced many different forms of magic in his many years of being the Dark One, but this was a new type of magic all on its own. So lost in his thoughts he was, that he didn't noticed her shifting away from him until her body broke contact with his fingers, leaving him cold and aching for her touch.

"I don't think I need any tea, Rum. I have some cleaning in the kitchen to do, so I'll just come collect your tea things when you finish later."

Before he could protest she was gone out of the room, her footsteps echoing down the darkened hallway. He could have stopped her. He was all-powerful after all. He could demand for her to return and bow at his feet. Strap her to the chair, freeze her in time, change her into a little rosebud or trinket to add to his collect, but he didn't. Instead he stood speechless and bereft as he was left to sip his tea alone. Yes, something was troubling his beauty and tonight he would figure out what and make any deal possible to make it better.

Rumpelstiltskin waited until well after the sun had set before he went in search of Belle. Normally at this time of night he was working in his laboratory while she would generally fall asleep reading a book in the library. He quickly checked the library and her chambers, but found them both to be empty. Shuffling through all his memories of Belle he suddenly remembered that she had spoken fondly of the kitchens, stating that she found all the pots and pans comforting, as they reminded her pestering the cooks when she was a little girl.

With a swirl of thick, purple smoke he vanished and reappeared as silent and stealthy as a jungle cat stocking his prey right outside of the kitchen's large pine doors. He was just about to burst inside and plead for her to reveal her troubles, when a soft voice stopped him in his tracks. A song, that of an angel came wafting out of the warm room, wrapping him in their delicate tones. Her voice was soft, husky and rich, like that of melted chocolate or a warm children's blanket. The song that rained down from her lips was familiar to him, as if he heard it once in a dream or perhaps long ago when he was a child himself.

Although the song seemed comfortingly familiar, what he saw before him did not. Belle was sitting on her knees in front of the fireplace with a large bowl of what looked liked like…popping corn? I haven't seen popping corn since Bae was a tiny lad, he thought to himself as he watched her pull a needle and large spool of tread from her apron pocket. She continued singing to herself as she began to string the popping corn onto the thread. Rumpelstiltskin's view panned out and he began to look at the room around her. Things were not as they typically were. A lone stocking was dangling from the mantle; scrappily cut paper snowflakes dangled from the sides of the butcher's table, candles with sprigs of holly were grouped together in the middle of the breakfast nook in what he assumed was supposed to have some semblance of a centerpiece.

Moving his gaze back to the beauty by the fire, he watched as she began wrapping the string of puffed corn around a pitiful looking houseplant she had nursed back to life months earlier. As she threaded the strand through its branches, her voice began to ring stronger.

Lo, how a rose e'er blooming,

From tender stem hath sprung.

Of Jesse's lineage coming,

As men of old have sung;

It came, a flow'ret bright,

Amid the cold of winter,

When half spent was the night.

Curious, he thought to himself. He was now sure he had heard such a song. Long ago he remembered holding Bae in his lap and singing by the fire on snowy nights such as this. And that was when it hit him. Night such as this. What night is this? Time was endless to the Dark One, so he hardly bothered with such trivial things as dates and calendars. He was on time when he felt like it and no one would dare question him if he were late. Rumpelstiltskin came and went when it pleased him. Could it be? He thought. Is it really that time of year? Giving one last glance over to his caregiver, he bowed out of the room with her none-the wiser of his presence. With another swirl of magic he transported himself to the library and scrambled for a calendar. After flicking open one he was sure Belle had been using, his eyes widened as he saw the date.

December 24th, Christmas Eve

How long had it been since he had noticed a Christmas? Definitely before the Ogre Wars had begun and his life had been torn apart. Bae had only been a toddler since he had last been able to afford to buy a Christmas present or make a Christmas pudding? He had almost forgotten the celebration still existed. There had been so little to celebrate in his life that he had not bothered to pay attention. But of course Belle would want to, she the eternal optimists, the spreader of light and goodness. Why wouldn't she want to continue the traditions of her homeland, even while locked away with a beast for a master?

A plan began forming in his mind. Rumpelstiltskin was not one to walk away from an opportunity. He needed her smile and he would form whatever plot or make whatever deal it took to bring that to him.

Belle woke up later than usual. It had been hard for her to fall asleep the night before and she was now left with her head feeling hazy and her body achy. Every time she had started to fall asleep, visions of her father, friends and the local villagers celebrating their first Christmas Eve feast, free from ogres kept swimming through her mind. Christmas had always been her favorite holiday. It was never about the presents, in fact the usual dresses and fancy perfumes her father typically bestowed upon her was never really the focus of her day. It was mainly because it was one of the few days that the entire village, rich or poor, came together for one evening and everyone was treated as equals. Handsome knights danced with milkmaids, ladies of the court told stories of Christmas' past to village children. It was one of the few times that Belle did not feel…odd. She could be herself, talk with whom she pleased and forget the trials of court etiquette and decorum. Once the Ogre Wars started the Christmas celebrations were put on hold. It had been years since she'd had a proper Christmas and now she seemed to ache for that sense of normalcy, that sense of…home.

It was not that she truly wanted to leave Rumpelstiltskin. On the contrary, she could not imagine a future in which he was not present. With Rumpelstiltskin she was free to be herself in a much deeper way than she would ever have been allowed to at home. When she spoke, he actually listened. When he laughed, her heart began to quicken. There was a level of comfort between them now, definitely something there that wasn't there before.

She knew that she should be honest with him and explain that she wanted to have a proper Christmas, but she was still frightened that he might think her childish or perhaps even laugh at her. Truly she was not as brave as he thought her to be. The last thing she wanted was for him to think of her as a child. She was a woman, she just wasn't sure if he even noticed.

Do I want him to notice? She thought to herself as she crawled out of bed. Her cheeks quickly heated as she thought back to his hand pressing gently on her lower back the day before. How was it that one touch could cause so many tingles? She had turned so red that she had to quickly excuse herself and leave the room before he noticed. Oh, I hope he didn't notice. No, Belle was not brave.

After washing her face and untangling her curls, Belle trudged over to her wardrobe to don her customary blue work dress. Instead of finding it front and center, when she opened up the double doors, she found her clothing had vanished. Instead of her work clothes, only a solitary garment hung waiting on her. It was exquisite. Belle could deduce that it was very expensive and meticulously made even before touching it. It was the color of a ripe cranberry; with a thick golden sash around the middle. It had a corseted bodice that conveniently laced up the front with a silken, gold chord. The fabric was like nothing she had ever seen before. It was heavy like velvet, yet smooth like silk. It could only have been made by magic. As she pulled out the heavy dress, a card tumbled to the floor. Upon picking it up she immediately recognized the spidery handwriting of her master.

Belle,

Please join me for breakfast in the great room. Seeing as this is now your only garment I expect you to wear it.

Rum

Belle rolled her eyes and gave a small snort as she began to pull the heavy fabric over her head. Leave it to him to make a gift seem like a command, although she wouldn't want him to change. It was these little quips that always made her smile. Perhaps her nonexistent Christmas wouldn't be so bad after all.

The dress was cut lower than what she would typically wear to clean the Dark Castle and it clung to her curves, leaving a deliciously wicked caress on her skin as she made her way down the stairs to the Great Room. What is Rum up to today? Would he make her polish silver in such a fine gown only to bring him entertainment? He is such a trickster; she thought to herself as a smile once again spread across her face. I was hard to stay cross with him, even when he did tease her so.

Belle pushed open the heavy doors that led to the room where they spent most of their time together. As soon as her foot hit the soft carpet that adorned its floors, she froze in shock at the sight before her. The long wooded table that usually sat in the center of the room had been push off to the side and in its place was the largest Christmas tree she had ever seen in her life. Silken ribbons of green, red and gold draped off every branch, multi-colored glass balls glistened in the fire light, creating a kaleidoscope of colors to flitter about the room. A gigantic star the size of swollen pumpkin sat proudly on top of the tree, sparkling as if it was made of pure gold. Perhaps it was! And the lights, the seemed to dance all over the branches as if nothing was holding them in place.

"They are pixies," came a voice from behind her. "Had to cut quite a deal with them last night for their time."

Without saying a word Belle wheeled around and threw her arms around his neck, nearly collapsing into his arms. "It is beautiful," she whispered against his neck, causing a nervous giggle to escape his lips.

"Tis no matter, dearie."

"It does matter. It matters very much, Rumpelstiltskin." Belle pulled her face back a few inches so that she could look him in the eyes. It was the closest they had ever been to each other in all their months of living together. Suddenly Belle forgot about the tree behind her or the exquisite dress that made her feel like a queen. Now all she could think about was the man, for she could feel that he truly was all man, that held her tightly in his arms. "I thought you had forgotten about Christmas," she said softly, doing her best to keep her breathing equal and light so as not to reveal storm that had begun to rage inside of her.

"You have been sad lately, my little Belle. Why did you not tell me you wanted a proper Christmas? I would do anything, make any deal, bring you anything if only to see you smile. Have I not been a good master to you? Why not just ask?"

She wanted to ask him to kiss her right then and there. She had never been properly kissed in her life and now all she wanted was to feel his lips on hers, but she refrained. Perhaps he would not wish to kiss her? "I was afraid you would think me childish and you have been so busy that…"

Rumpelstiltskin silenced her by placing a scaly finger across her rosebud lips. Belle had to use all her strength not to let her eyelids flutter close as the warmth of his touch enveloped her mouth. "Do not even think such a thing. I have never thought of you as a child, Belle." How could he as he glanced down to see the tempting swell of her breast strain against the confines of her new dress? He knew that one was a good choice. "From now on you shall be more honest with me."

Belle nodded as he pulled back and grasped a hold of her hand. He pulled her over to a pair of armchairs he set up by the tree and guided her into the one closest to the roaring fire. "Presents, I think?"

"But you already gave me the dress," she said in protest as he grabbed a large box from under the tree.

"Indulge an old monster," he said, his tone darkening for moment. "I have very few pleasures in my life. Allow me this one thing."

"You are not a monster, Rum."

"Well, you are the first to think so. Now open your gift." Rumpelstiltskin set the heavy gold box at her feet and Belle slid down onto the floor beside it. "What is it?" she inquired, eyeing the box with skeptically.

"I am pretty sure you have to open it to find out, Belle."

Sticking out her tongue at him she began to rip into the beautiful paper. After a few fumbling minutes Rumpelstiltskin grew impatient of her slow progress and magically vanished the paper and box, leaving only a circular glass tray with a clear, glass canister lid on top.

"Oh my!" she exclaimed as she caught her first glimpse of what was held inside. "It is a rose."

"Not just any rose, Belle. It is the most perfect rose in the world. There is no blemish, no imperfections, only beauty." Just like you. "It is enchanted so as long as you walk this earth, it will never die."

"It is breathtaking." A radiant smile, one he had not seen in weeks spread across her face. As her smile began to grow, the crimson petals of the rose began to open, as if sensing the sun's rays. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "How did that happen?"

"When you are happy, the rose is happy. Its petals will only open when you smile, dearie," he explained.

"Then I will have to always be smiling," she said with a giggle.

"That was my hope."

"But I'm afraid I don't have a gift for you. How could I possibly top what you have given me?"

The imp's eyes darkened as many thoughts ran through his mind of what she could give him. With a sly smile he gestured for her to look up. Hovering right above her was a large bushel of mistletoe. "Maybe a small kiss on the cheek?" he asked, suddenly feeling very shy. He would never dare to ask for more than that, even though he desperately wanted to kiss every exquisite inch of her body.

Without hesitation Belle leaned forward until she was only an inch of away from his cheek. Rumpelstiltskin let out a sigh as he felt her breath caress his cheek. "I think you deserve a little more than that." At the last minute she moved her mouth just a few inches over and placed a gentle kiss to his lips.

Much to his surprise Belle didn't flinch from him as his lips began to move with hers. Surely kissing a monster was not a pleasant experience, but in fact the little moan that had escaped from her throat said otherwise. Her lips tasted sweeter then anything he could have ever imagined. No expensive wines or meads could even touch her taste. "Open for me, love," he whispered gently against her mouth. Love? Had he really just said that? Without hesitation she complied, granting him access to all the mysteries her mouth held. With his tongue he explored every inch, taking his time to memorize all the little noises she made as he gently and thoroughly sucked, nipped and kissed.

Her body seemed to melt against his and suddenly all he could think about was tasting more and more of her. Leaning down, he pressed his eager lips to her beautiful shoulder where it was bared by the neckline of her gown. "You are so beautiful, Belle." Carefully he traced kisses up her shoulder until he reached the curve of her neck where he paused long enough to inhale her womanly scent. Oh, her scent. It had been driving him wild for months. It was a heady mixture of flowers, tea and the lemon wax she used to polish the furniture. As if sensing where he was going to next, she arched her neck with a little sigh, allowing him better access. Growing bolder he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her throat, trying his best not to let his sharp teeth break her unblemished skin. There would be time for that later, right now he did not want to scare her, only enjoy her. As he kept his mouth focused on the skin of her neck and shoulders he finally let his hands start to roam her body, caressing her silky arms and flushed face. He had yet to touch any part of her that could be considered scandalous but she was already trembling and breathing heavenly. Pausing his ministrations, he looked up at his prize. "Belle, are you alright? Is this too much?"

Pulling him back up so that he was face to face with her, she leaned in and planted a firm and daring kiss to his lips. "I have wanted you to do that for months," she said in between kisses and heavy breaths. "Please don't stop," she whimpered, running her fingers through his messy hair.

"We have all day, dearie. There will be time for that. There will be time for everything." He didn't want to rush things, to spoil things. He had been granted this one pure thing and he planned on savoring it. Besides, it was only the morning and today would be all about her. His Belle, his beauty, his Christmas rose.