Belle was a fairly reasonable person at the best of times. She was even reasonable at the worst of times, always willing to look further than first appearances. She gave love and forgiveness easily and had the enviable talent at finding the upside to any situation. But even for all of that, she was having a damnable time even remotely liking Mr. Gold right now.
"If you think I'm going to just sit in a house while the rest of you fight, you have another thing coming!" She railed. She even shook her fist for good measure. This didn't seem to impress Mr. Gold, who only stared at her stonily.
She hated arguing with him. It was akin to standing in a cold room—he was an impassive wall of ice while Belle raged like a forest fire. Mr. Gold always seemed in perfect control of his emotions. His voice would never raise, never be anything but coldly polite, always making her tempers feel childish and immature. Belle always wore her emotions on her sleeve and she supposed she shared a certain kinship with fire—warm and homey under the right circumstances, furious and terrifying under the wrong ones.
"This is not up for discussion, Belle," He said in a calm voice that would brook no argument. "You're staying here."
"Oh, am I?" Belle's nostrils flared. "Need I remind you, that you are no longer my master and that I do not take orders from you!"
Mr. Gold's eyes darkened angrily. "Now you're being unreasonable for the sake of pure stubbornness. You'll be safe here, in this house. No matter what happens, after the battle, you'll be taken care of, I've made certain of that."
"I don't need to be taken care of!" Belle shouted. "And to further the point, who's going to take care of you?"
Mr. Gold cracked a half-smile at this, which infuriated Belle further. "Don't worry about that, love," He said calmly.
"I won't," She snapped. "Because I'll tell you the answer: I will be there to make sure you're taken care of. This is as much my battle as it is anyone else's! Or have you forgotten where Regina put me?"
His eyes narrowed and for a brief second, Belle almost felt sympathy for the Evil Queen. The look Mr. Gold's face was a black, deadly expression that forewarned of horrors in Regina's future.
"No," He gritted out. I've not forgotten."
"Good," Belle spat. "Neither have I. I haven't forgotten a single one of those nights. Locked in that room, thinking I truly was mad, wondering if…if you'd ever find me!" She felt that this was a low blow and she saw immediately that it had struck home. His anger turned to hurt within seconds. Belle tried to ignore the guilty pang in her heart. She knew he'd thought she was dead—that if he'd known she was being held captive, there wouldn't have been a single thing Regina could've done to stop him from saving her.
"That's not fair," He said softly and the hurt in his eyes was too much for her to take. Still holding onto her resolve, she walked towards him, taking his hand. He abruptly embraced her, touching his forehead to hers. It was almost enough for her to forget the issue.
"Belle," Mr. Gold buried his face in her hair. "I can't. I cannot lose you again."
"And you think I can?" Belle returned, although her voice was gentler. She wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling his heart beat in time with hers. "You don't need to be alone anymore. You don't need to fight and scheme alone anymore. I'm here. Let me fight with you. Together, we can win. We can have our happy ending."
A shadow fell across Mr. Gold's brow. "I promise you, Belle," He said quietly. "You will get your happy ending. But…I may not be in it."
Belle stared at him. "You don't think…you don't think you'll get your happy ending." She faltered. "You think you're going to die…" Rage filled her core once more. "So that's it then? You think your death will be your recompense?"
His eyes met hers. "Belle. We come from a land where there are no shades of gray. There is good and there is evil, and there are those who fight for both. Which do you think I am?"
Belle averted her gaze. "But you're fighting for good now!"
"I'm fighting for you," Mr. Gold corrected her. "You and Baelfire."
"Who both fight for good!" Belle argued. Tears of frustration began to sting her eyes. "Don't you understand? Happy endings aren't earned or fought for—because no one really deserves a happy ending! Happy endings are given!"
Mr. Gold stilled. Belle breathed a sigh of relief. He was listening.
"In another time, in another land, you wronged both me and Baelfire," Belle told him, her words calm. "You rejected my love. You chose power over your son." She traced the jaw-line of his lowered face. He was ashamed. But she needed him to understand. To accept.
"But we forgave you," Belle smiled at him, tilting his face towards hers. "I forgave you. As did Baelfire." It hadn't been an easy path. When they'd finally found his son, there had been enmity and tension. It had taken a while for Baelfire to come to terms with Rumplestiltskin and accept his father's heartbroken apology. To forgive is a verb, Belle had told Bae. Only do so if you are ready to treat it as such.
"Why?" Mr. Gold's response was barely above a whisper.
Belle smiled again. She pressed her lips to his, her palm cupping his cheek. She felt his arms tighten around her and her belly warmed as the kiss deepened. Gods, she loved him.
She broke away the kiss for just a moment. "Because that's what love is," Belle said simply. "It's unconditional."
She kissed him again, sweetly, and she felt the ice around him begin to melt. Her fire was bringing him to life to who he was meant to be.