Summary: After the new Dark One is defeated, Belle and Rumpelstiltskin have a child that will change the course of history throughout the Enchanted Forest. And an epic journey will begin.
Merry Christmas!
Ch. 1
The Clerics' Hall of Westport was as grand and intimidating as Rumpelstiltskin had read about in the history books and scrolls his wife, Belle, had insisted on keeping in the ship's hold. Stained-glass windows lined the stone building and accusatory statues of gods old stared back at him. A High Priest was at the pulpit, lighting incense in his red and blue robes, his long white beard visible through his garment hood. Rumpel swallowed hard and advanced towards him, head high but hidden beneath a gray cloak.
The High Priest barely turned before grunting and saying, "I know it's you, Sire. No need for theatrics in the house of the gods."
Rumpelstiltskin pulled down his hood. "You might know why I'm here, then."
The Priest turned, a smile on his old, wrinkled face, and snuffed out the candle he was using to light the incense with. "I have an inkling. Come, have a seat." The man motioned towards a pew and Rumpelstiltskin took a seat. "What troubles you, Sire?" The High Priest sat beside Rumpel and planted the smoldering candle on the pew seat.
"I, uh . . ." Rumpelstiltskin tugged at the collar of his cloak. "I need some guidance. My wife is about to give birth. We've been on the high seas for nearly a year and . . ." Rumpelstiltskin lowered his head and clasped his hands together, though he and the priest knew he would not pray. A man with as many sins as him was unaccustomed to the mercy of the gods. "Cleric, I wonder if . . . if a man can truly be forgiven? If salvation is possible?"
Again the old man grinned. "I know your reputation, Rumpelstiltskin. A Seer like me has become aware your misdeeds throughout the centuries. But you're a man, now. And the gods inform us that man can be forgiven of his sins."
Rumpel sighed and looked at the Cleric. "I don't want my child born into this life of . . . of fear. I want to be able to settle down with my wife and raise our baby. I want a normal life."
The Cleric shook his head. "You'll never have a "normal" life, Rumpelstiltskin. You know that as well as I."
"I'm tired of running, Cleric."
"Yes. But your journey has just begun."
The doors to the large hall opened, probably a few eager patrons for morning mass, and the High Priest stood. "If you're looking for salvation," the Cleric said, "look within. You're intentions are pure. Just make sure your actions match them.
Rumpelstiltskin watched as the Cleric rounded the pew and walked down the aisle to the doors of the hall. He looked at his hands, chapped from the salty ocean wind, and blew out a sigh.
Two blocks down from the Cleric's Hall, Belle toured the market with her maid-in-waiting, Glissa. They both wore black cloaks to hide their frames, though Belle's swollen, nine-month pregnant belly stuck out prominently. After a scene at the port in Spicetown—a man in a gray shawl had tried to grab Belle outside a pub before Rumpelstiltskin threatened to cut him from navel to neck—Belle thought it best to be a little more cautious of her surroundings. There were still people throughout the land who wanted her husband's head for his crimes as the Dark One, and even though the Enchanted Forest had known peace for the last year and a half, revenge was a hard taste to get rid of. Their life on the sea had been relatively quiet, but with the baby about to come, Belle worried about where they would settle.
Glissa held up a long chain with a dazzling emerald stone. "Look, my lady. Isn't it lovely?"
Belle smiled. "You could sink the ship with that kind of jewel."
Glissa laughed. The market was bustling with morning activity—bakers bringing loaves of bread to shops, children running between the skirts of noble ladies, vendors haggling with customers over spices and fruit. Belle picked up a silver ring inlaid with an opal and showed it to the young blonde maid.
"What about this? Do you like it?
"It's beautiful." Glissa smiled. "Too fancy for the likes of me, though."
Belle grinning playfully and pretended to glance over the other rings. "I'm sure Calden would like it on you."
Glissa laughed and tugged on her mistress's arm. "How d'you know about me and Calden?"
"I have eyes," Belle said, "and he always takes his meals with you on deck than in the hold with the other men."
Glissa blushed and glanced away shyly. Belle put the ring on her maid's finger and searched her cloak for her bag of coins.
"My lady, no!" Glissa protested.
Belle handed the brown-skinned man five coins and he thanked her. She looked at Glissa and said, "You deserve it. You've been so good to me and my husband all this time."
Glissa fiddled with the ring on her finger, still unsure. "Madam, I-I don't—"
"Please." Belle took her maid's hand in hers. "Think of it as man early wedding present." She gave the girl a wink and Glissa laughed.
As Belle walked down the street to the next vendor, Glissa stopped to admire the opal. Rumpelstiltskin and his wife had been more than kind to her since she offered to join them on their travel—giving her her own private room aboard the ship with silk sheets, good food, and time to herself whenever they ported. But this ring was certainly the most precious thing she owned, a symbol of friendship between her and Belle. Glissa knew right then that she would never take it off.
The young maiden looked up in time to see a man in black armor step out of the shadows in the nearby alley. A lordship's guard? Possibly. But it troubled Glissa that he watched Belle intently, his eyes hidden behind a black mask and his hand hovering over the handle of his sheathed sword.
"My lady!" Glissa called out.
Just as Glissa ran to her, Belle doubled over, clutching her swollen belly. She squeezed her eyes shut, a sharp pain ripping through her abdomen. "Augh!"
"My lady, what is it?" Glissa said, holding Belle's arm to steady her.
"The baby!" Belle gasped. "It's coming!"
Glissa looked around, wondering if anyone would run for help. She saw the man in black armor slink back into the shadow of the alley. "Someone help!" Glissa cried. "She's going into labor!"
Belle squeezed Glissa's hand tightly. "Go to the Cleric's Hall. Find my husband." She gasped again and cried out in pain as another contraction slammed into her. "Hurry!"
An old woman from a nearby shop hurried over and offered her hand to Belle. "Go, dear. I'll bring her to the midwife's home."
"Thank you!" Glissa barely got the words out before she sprinted down the lane, twisting through the cobblestone streets to the main square. In the middle of the square was a great stone fountain of one of the gods of old, Poseidon, and beyond the fountain was the Cleric's Hall. Glissa pushed past the throng of people heading into morning mass and burst through the large wooden doors of the hall.
"Rumpelstiltskin!" Glissa called.
She spotted him on the first pew by the altar. He turned his head towards her, then stood and ran to the door when he saw the seriousness on her face.
"What's happened? Rumpelstiltskin asked. "Is Belle—?"
"She's having the baby, my lord!" Glissa said breathlessly. "Come quickly!"
0000000
The sound of Belle screaming rang throughout the morning and into mid-afternoon. The midwife's home was a flurry of people—old women taking bloodied bedsheets from the room and coming back with clean ones, curious children peeking around corners. Rumpelstiltskin sat on the third-floor deck just outside of Belle's room. Well, he only sat for seconds at a time. Mostly he paced, wringing his hands nervously as the midwife's husband sat on a chair and whittled from a block of cherry wood.
The midwife's husband, called Jakob, smoked a pipe and occasionally scratched his long black beard. He snorted a laugh every time Rumpelstiltskin sighed nervously.
"First one?" Jakon asked.
Rumpelstiltskin sighed again, bit his thumb nail, and shook his head, no. "It's, uh, been a while, though."
"Well, you're both young," Jakob said, puffing on his pipe. "My wife's a miracle worker."
Rumpelstiltskin sat on the chair by the table. The sun was out and the breezed carried the smell of the ocean from the port below. Belle cried out again from inside, and he could hear Glissa saying soothing things above the wailing.
"That's it, I'm going in there!" Rumpelstiltskin opened the double doors to the room and was instantly hit with the smell of blood, of mucus and wine and sweat. As soon as he had entered, he wished he hadn't.
Belle was on her back on the midwife's bed, her gown pulled above her knees. Her head was thrown against the pillow, sweat drenching her hair as it matted to her agonized face. She opened her beautiful blue eyes and gave Rumpelstiltskin a look that made even him coil in fear.
"I. HATE. YOU!" she bellowed.
The midwife was at the basin of wine by the door. She laughed as she dipped her hands in the liquid and dried them. "They all say that, m'lord. Don't take it to heart."
"Ow!" Glissa cried as Belle clutched her hand tighter.
"M-Maybe I should—"
Rumpelstiltskin took a step towards the deck, but Belle reached out to him. "No, please! Stay with me! I'm so sorry, I'm soraaaaaaugh!" She unleashed another blood-curdling scream and Rumpelstiltskin took Glissa's place by his wife's side. The young girl seemed thankful to not have the bones in her hand be the target of pain.
"It hurts," Belle mewed.
Rumpel took her hand and stroked her forehead. "I know, love. You're so close, though—"
"He's right," the midwife said, setting herself on a stool before Belle's open legs. "I can see the baby's head. You'll have to start pushing, Miss Belle."
Belle shook her head feverishly and cried. "No, I can't!"
"Ain't got a choice, dear. It'll all be over soon."
"Belle, look at me." Rumpelstiltskin took her chin and turned her head towards him. "You can do this, darling. You're strong and brave. You've fought worse—"
Belle threw her head back again and screamed.
"Time to push!" the midwife yelled. "One. Two—"
"Push!" Rumpel cried.
Belle grunted, her face red and pinched as she hunkered down and pushed.
"Take a breath." The midwife steadied her hands between Belle's legs to catch the child. "Again!"
Belle cried out like a banshee looking for a lost soul and pushed again.
"That's it, that's it!" Rumpelstiltskin said. He looked down at her legs, eagerly awaiting the sight of his child.
"One more and you're done, miss," the midwife said. "One more push!"
Glissa was in the corner, rubbing her thumb over the opal ring, a prayer or two sneaking past her lips. She watched as Belle gave another push, her face red and wrinkled in pain, and Glissa wondered if marriage and children was what she wanted, after all this pain and suffering, and maybe she could live without Calden's soft lips and strong arms and—
Glissa gasped as a burst of golden light shot out from Belle's body and rippled throughout the air. Even the midwife stopped long enough to look around in wonder. Glissa thought she and the old woman might have shared in a hallucination, but Jakob came from the deck quickly and looked around, perplexed.
"Did you see that?" he asked.
His question was met with the wail of a baby. Glissa looked at Belle and a child had emerged from her between her legs, small and pink and a head of the thickest black hair she had ever seen. The child cried sharply as the midwife cut the cord. She wrapped the child up in a blanket and handed the girl over to a sobbing Belle.
"Oh my God," Belle whispered. "Oh my God."
Rumpelstiltskin had tears in his eyes, threatening to overflow as the baby nestled against Belle's chest and wailed mercilessly. He kissed his wife's forehead and touched the baby's hair. As soon as the baby reached out a flailing hand to him, the former Dark One burst into tears.
"She's beautiful," he said.
The midwife sat back, mesmerized. She had birthed hundreds of babies, but none that came with a mysterious golden light. She looked at Glissa and the two shared an expression of both wonder and fear.
Belle laughed, tears spilling down her cheeks. She tore her eyes away from her new daughter, not an easy feat, and looked at her husband. "Rose," she said.
Rumpelstiltskin met her gaze. "Rose?"
Belle nodded and looked down at her daughter again. The child was perfect in every way, though her skin was still matted in white goo and her black hair was slick with blood and mucus. To the proud parents, she was the most beautiful thing any of them had ever seen.
"Rosie." Rumpelstiltskin whispered. He leaned over and planted a kiss on the baby's head. "Our little Rosie."
To be continued