With a quick flick of his hand he lit the match and set aflame the final candle. Of course, he could have just done it with magic, but he knows how she loves the smell of lit matches, how it reminds her of the fire she used to lay beside and read books at night.
He looked around the room to ensure everything was in place. The candles had given the room a gentle glow and brought warmth to the cool whiteness of the satin tablecloth they were resting on. He'd acquired a new delicate white and blue china set for the occasion, a token reminder of how their love began, without the chip though. He couldn't chance her cutting her lip, no matter how small the risk. He leaned down to smell the single red rose upon the table and couldn't hold back a smirk. Ever since the first rose he gave her, they've been her favourite. Little did she know that the first was really a transformed version of that arrogant thug to whom she was once betrothed... that would remain his little secret.
Satisfied with the room, he had just enough time to straighten his tie before he heard the door move behind him. His eyes slowly moved from her ankles – pale blue kitten heels, perfectly accentuating her legs – leading up to a risqué short playsuit in perfect colour coordination. As much as he missed from the Enchanted Forest sometimes he had to say, the fashion in this world did wonders for her. Finally, his eyes fell upon hers. The lighting in the room made her delicate features even softer than normal, and he felt a spark of light in his heart that most would think impossible for a man like him.
"Rumple," she gasped, "what is all this?"
"Well now, is it really so surprising for me to do something special for my darling wife?"
A small smile teased her lips. He loved when she smiled like that.
"Well come on then, dearie" he quipped. He made his way to the chair beside the window – he knew how she loved to watch the moon – and pulled it out for her.
"Now, do you remember our first meal together in this world?"
"Of course I do," she exclaimed. "It was the first burger I ever tried, and the first time you showed me the magic of this world, unlike any back home – ketchup."
He couldn't help but smile.
"I'm glad. However, I thought it about time that I gave you something more befitting someone of your elegance to try."
He twirled his hands profoundly in the air and purple mist filled the area to the side of the table. In an instant, a cart of covered dishes appeared in place of it.
"You could have just brought it through from the kitchen you know, it's right next door."
"Oh, but where's the fun in that?" He gently rested the smallest plates at each of their places, then lifted off the silver covering.
"It's… little black things," she quizzed, with a confused look on her face.
While getting back into his chair, he began explaining. "It's called 'caviar'. It's one of the finest delicacies from this land, and is also renowned in romantic situations for being quite the aphrodisiac." He had to resist looking over to see her reaction, he knew it would make him break his cool. "I thought it might be a nice start to our evening."
"Well, I can't argue with that." She kept her reply short, trying to distract herself from the images he had now created her in head. "But I have to ask… what actually IS it?"
"It's fish eggs."
"Eggs?" Her face fell. "This," she pointed sharply at her food "is poor killed fish babies?"
"Oh come now Belle, it might seem a little strange at first but bear in mind that back home it was common to eat much more majestic animals than this."
"I guess…"
"Just try it, please?"
"Well, anything for you Rumple."
He watched as she hesitantly lifted the small caviar fork to her mouth and took a bite. Her face screwed up as if she's eaten a handful of wild berries and she swallowed so fast she almost choked.
"Oh god," she gasped between chokes. "It's so slimy and lumpy, and all I can taste is salt!"
"So that's a no then?"
He watched as she practically inhaled the glass of wine he'd poured before her arrival. He could only imagine how that would affect her later.
"I'm so sorry Rumple, it's just… not to my tastes."
"That's okay my love." He took her hand gently in his from across the table. "How about we move onto the next dish?"
"Yes please, but… Rumple?"
"Yes, my love?"
"Please tell me it's not another species' eggs."
He stifled a laugh.
"No, don't worry, you're safe."
