A/N:

The moment I watched the post-mirror scene in 4x06 I got this idea. It broke my heart to see Belle crumble like that and I have a love-hate relationship with a lot of what happens after that town line scene... So it's basically AU after those pawnshop events.

Chapter one (and probably a few after) are pretty soft, but after that it will probably get darker- but never fear, Rumbelle is here!

Fell free to prompt, as questions, give feedback, etc, please do!

This is a little bit of a tricky piece for me to right, so if anyone would be interested in Beta reading for it, let me know.

Much love, PW0.


Simple months had felt like years since he had last seen that gorgeous smile of hers reach her eyes. He missed that bright, contagious, sunshine of a smile. He missed the way she used to hold him, so full of love and contentment with just being in his arms. He missed that happy, accented, sing-songy voice, the clacking of her tall, six-inch heels as she bopped happily throughout the house that let him know she was there, her humming while she brushed through his greying hair, but all of that was no more.

Since the whole incident with his dagger, the mirror, and the Snow Queen, Belle just hadn't been the same. For the first few weeks she simply seemed shaken up and fragile, much like she was when he had first taken her into the Dark Castle, trying to find her footing and regain her spunk and confidence for a while.

"I-I don't even know if I deserve to be with you anymore..."

Those were her words. He couldn't stand to hear her voice so broken, nor could he stand to see her cerulean eyes search his whiskey ones for his forgiveness, even after he said he had. Gods, and her "I love you, Rumpel." It nearly shattered his darkened heart.

After their little embrace on the floor of their shop, he had taken her home and cooked the finest of meals for her, which was then followed by giving her all the cuddles, hugs, and sweet kisses in the world; pecking those pesky tears away and shushing all the pain filled sobs with sweet reassurances.

For the next week the pawnshop and library were closed as the beast tried to comfort his beauty in the privacy of their home, the two often seeking refuge on the couch or bed. She often laid between his legs, head on his chest, or face burrowed into his neck as he read a story to her, told her of his travels, even the places he wanted take her until they decided on a nap together or something else. That week they had managed to ruin a handful of his fine silk dress shirts with their tears, but he paid it no mind. He'd pay any price to help mend his hurt wife. But eventually, that all had died down too. She had stopped accepting the little indulgences and told him 'she didn't want to be a bother' and even when he had insisted she wasn't, she merely cast it to the side and went off on her own in the old house or sat on the other end of the couch. It was a small distance, yet somehow she felt so far away. That's how it all started.

He understood that he should have told her the truth about the dagger the moment she had tried to give it back to him in his shop, but he just couldn't get it out and now how was he supposed to tell her? 'Oh by the way love, the mirror was kind of right. The dagger in your hands? Yeah, surprise! It is a fake. But good news! I did give you the real one, only to switch it out on you during our honeymoon!' and put that all on top of her guilt? That her husband was a slimy piece of garbage? Well, he knew he was no better than a wretched slug, scum of the earth to be more precise. Either way, we wanted to make this up to her, no- he needed to. It was his fault anyways, being the bastard he was. Now... just how to tell her...