She awoke from her deep slumber and found herself burrowing deeper underneath the covers when she realized just how warm they were. She sighed in contentment and felt a smile tugging at the corners of her lips at the recollection of what had led to this long and blissful sleep. Shifting her torso around in search of more comfort, Belle French, or rather Belle Gold, – she had to keep reminding herself of that – felt an all too pleasant ache in her limbs at the movement and she felt a tremor shake her shoulders as she recalled brief flashes of her and Rumple's fervent love-making.
It had been fierce and passionate, and while she was more often than not reduced to a shuddering, weak-limbed mess after their intimacy, the intensity this time around had been brimming with such love and lust and ecstasy that it had left her with a persistent force tugging at her eyelids afterwards. They seldom made love so ferociously that it left her cordially sore and exhausted but their desires for one another had been fueled by the knowledge that they had been apart for so long and had endured so much in their relationship over the past year.
Belle was grateful to Henry for his intervention the night before; she had been driving through the thick forest of Maine and while she should have been exhilarated as she passed the town line and entered the Land Without Magic – her dreams to explore the vast wonders of the world finally becoming a reality – she hadn't felt anything but this unpleasant sensation quelling in her chest. She had doubted the entire way if she could really leave Rumple behind like this. If she could truly part herself from her True Love and explore the world without him. And in that moment she had realized that her biggest ambition was not to explore the world, but to be with Rumplestiltskin.
It should have been her own soul-driven revelation that made her turn the Black Cadillac back around towards Storybrooke instead of her step-grandson's call, but nevertheless, it was his words that had driven her to the realization that she couldn't be without Rumple, and she had returned to him, and now they were together again and that wall all that mattered.
It had registered in her racing mind as she sped back towards the town line that he had let her leave knowing he'd never see her again. He had restrained his love for her so furiously and she had seen the fire of it in his eyes when he told her to leave; it hadn't made sense at the time but as she drove back to him it all seemed to click together and she was in awe of his selflessness and felt tears brimming in her eyes. She had felt disgusted with herself the moment she told him she didn't want to make it work at the well, but the feelings were tenfold when she grasped that everything he had done was for her and everything she had said had been for herself.
But none of it seemed to matter when she entered the shop and found him sulking in the back because the moment their lips met everything between them had been forgiven, all of his wrongdoings and all of her own. None of it had mattered anymore.
She harbored the memories of their kisses as she laid here under the covers, the taste of scotch still faintly evident in her mouth from the passionate caresses of his tongue and with an unbidden swarm of memories, she reminisced what occurred after they kissed in the shop.
They parted their lips for air and she told him how much she wanted him and that he should take her home. He smiled adoringly at her for that, and with a slight caper to his step he guided her out of the shop and they were driving towards their salmon-colored home. They entered into the lofty entryway and Belle felt like she would fall apart if he didn't hold her in his arms. He had barely managed to remove his overcoat and hang it on its hook before she was pressing her body flush against his, seeking the warmth of his mouth. They shared gentle, sipping kisses as they caressed each other and she nearly burst with glee when he slipped the pink overcoat off her shoulders and tossed it onto a nearby chair.
They seemed to share a silent declaration in their eyes because he didn't lead her upstairs to their bed; she knew it would only make things more complicated and he seemed to understand that and agree as he searched her eyes. Encasing her in his arm (oh, how she had missed those arms), he gently pulled her with him down the hallway and into a spare bedroom that was never used much. She groaned when he pulled away from her to start a fire in the hearth but he just chuckled, loosening his tie and slipping off his shoes as he did so. She unwound her scarf from around her neck and began to divest her own clothes until he turned back to her, resuming those sipping kisses that made her stomach do little flips.
She couldn't deny she was well aware this would be their first time making love without the presence of his curse and she was positively thrilled at that particular notion. She deepened their kisses by slipping her tongue between his lips and ridding him of any clothing she could reach between their bodies.
"Are you sure, sweetheart?" he questioned in a gentle whisper and when she nodded yes he seemed to lose that small shred of hesitation he had held. If she was soulfully honest with herself, she was somewhat hesitant, too. Getting her heart broken had become something of a pattern as of late and she didn't want to risk continuing that streak. But she had to remind herself this time was different; he was no longer the Dark One and his heart was free from its corruption.
Rumple slipped his own tongue in her mouth and he tore at the rest of her clothes, stroking the skin as it was laid bare by the deft movements of his hands and soon they were reclining onto the guest bed. They hadn't been intimate since before his banishment, oh so long ago, and something about these kisses, these caresses, their frantically whispered endearments, they somehow seemed foreign and Belle could only surmise that it was from their long separation.
She knew this was right, though: she and him, together. Here, in their home, with these feelings and this love. They were meant to be together. They always were. They were True Love.
It was one of those oddly out-of-place moments where she couldn't help but thank the Gods – and then curse herself for thanking them – for making Rumplestiltskin the Dark One because it allowed him to live beyond a normal human's life expectancy. He lived through hundreds of years so they could exist together in the same time; they were made for each other, just born in different generations, and that had been the way to bridge the gap.
Caressing the back of her head in his palm, Rumple carded his fingers through her hair and she reciprocated the action, fingers sweeping through the silky brown strands with hints of silver. She breathed in the scents that made him so special, that made him her Rum: scotch and cologne and aftershave and something else that was indecipherable to her but always accompanied him.
She was grateful Rumple had laid them down on the mattress because as he pulled away the final barrier of clothing between them and pressed a passionate kiss to her lips, her knees trembled at his touch and she would have fell if she had been standing. She had faith he would have caught her though. He always did.
They teased one another eagerly with their mouths, mapping one another's bodies with their tongues and their lips, but it wasn't long before their desires had reached its crescendo and they made love in earnest over and over again, riding their waves of pleasure together until they could take no more.
Their orgasms had intertwined for the final time that night and Rumplestiltskin had collapsed on top of her, careful to keep most of his weight off. He pulled out of her and cradled her into his chest, whispering sweet nonsense into her ear as he stroked clumsy patterns across the skin of her back, but she was so utterly exhausted that sleep was already pulling her under and that was the last things she remembered.
Until now. And the thought of her handsome love caused her to turn over so she could snuggle into his warmth but her hand only met the cool bedsheets where his body should have been. Blinking away the sleep from her eyes, she sat up, observing the darkened room. One glance at the window indicated it was now twilight outside and she had slept half the day away.
"Rumple?" she called groggily. She noticed the fire in the hearth had been extinguished and as her eyes adjusted to the darkness she could see that the door was open that she had taken the liberty of shutting before (more out of habit than of worriment over being caught naked in bed together).
"Sweetheart?" she called again. Belle reluctantly slid out of the warm sheets, the cool night air causing goosebumps to emerge on her arms and legs and she quickly dressed in the grey tunic she had been wearing before; it would have to do until she found something more appropriate to wear from the upstairs bedroom.
She remembered that ever since their wedding and up to his banishment she would find him in their library most nights if he wasn't beside her in bed, so she worked her way through the house, turning on lights as she went, until she reached the darkened library at the back of the Victorian home. Ever since the combined tragedies of Baelfire's death and his year-long imprisonment at the hands of Zelena, Rumple was constantly plagued with nightmares. This is where she would find him when he wasn't beside her, sitting here in the dark with a bottle of scotch clutched tightly in his hand. More often than not she had found herself venturing to his side, easing the bottle out of his palm and cradling his head against her heart as he cried into her chest.
She quietly called his name again but when she peeked her head inside she found the room to be unusually vacant. She moved over to the staircase, ascending the creaking wood until she made it to their bedroom. Turning on the light, she was surprised that Rumplestiltskin wasn't there, but even more surprising was the piece of parchment lying on the carefully made bedspread. Belle felt a swell of apprehension fill her chest as she stepped forward with curiosity and picked up the rough-textured paper. Her True Love's elegant calligraphy flowed seamlessly across the page and she felt a sudden worry fill her chest as she unfolded it and began to read.
Sweetheart, You have no doubt noticed my absence. I hope you have slept well and that you thoroughly enjoyed our time together. I certainly did. Those few moments in the shop and all the time we shared in that damned guest bed will stay close to my heart for the rest of my existence. I thought it impossible, but I love you even more than I did a week ago. You still continue to astound me, my darling Belle. You had the chance to escape from this accursed town and all of the heartache I've caused you. You had a chance to explore the wonders of the world. Yet you came back to me. I will never understand it, but I am truly grateful none the less.
You have given my life, my very existence, a meaning. You've saved me from the darkness and from myself more times than I could ever count and I will forever be in your debt for that. I was never able to give you what you deserve, no matter how long or how hard I tried, no matter how many chances you gave me. But I did try, I promise you that, and if given the chance, I will continue to try.
Please let me explain where I am sweetheart, and why I have left, because I do not want you to worry and I most certainly do not want you to misunderstand my reasons for leaving. I should have woken you to tell you this but I was afraid of seeing your reaction. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to stop you from coming if you knew where I intended to go. You remember what young Henry told you on the phone? About Hook's plan to send us all to the Underworld and how this plan of his ultimately failed? Miss Swan was cleaved from the darkness but at the expense of her pirate's life. I had a little chat with her in the shop while you were still sleeping and after careful consultation, Regina, the Charmings, Robin Hood, and I skeptically agreed to journey into the Underworld with Emma to save the damned pirate.
I don't like him, especially after the pain he's caused you, but the only way for them to enter into the Underworld is with my blood, being that I am the only person who was there and escaped (thanks to you and Bae). While I have a certain abhorrence at the notion of Hook replacing Baelfire for both Emma and Henry, they care for him, and I care for them, so I will do what I can to save the pirate. Who knows? Maybe this centuries old feud between us will finally end.
I can imagine you must be incredibly upset, sweetheart. No one decides your fate but you and I seem to have left you option-less in this matter. I am deeply sorry. Having been to this place before, I couldn't bear to lead you into such horrors. I will do everything I can to come home to you, my love. I realize that we have been separated too many times, and if I make it back, I can assure you that we will never be separated again, in any world or any realm, unless you wish it. However, just in case I am not able to return to you, I want you to know something.
There are no words, no actions, and no amount of time that could make up for the pain I have caused you. I know you tire of hearing my apologies, but none the less I am deeply, truly, and whole-heartedly sorry, Belle. You deserve so much better than me. You are too perfect and forgiving and beautiful for this world, or any world, and if I make it back to you I promise I will tell you each and every day how grateful I am to you, for your support, your forgiveness, your strength, and your love. No one ever has nor ever will exist that comes close to comparing to you, my beautiful Belle.
In case this is goodbye, I love you, Belle French. Gods, I love you. My beautiful wife. My True Love. I love you. More than anything I love you and I would have spent the rest of my miserable life trying to make you happy, and if I return to you, I will. Thank you for giving me your heart and your trust countless times despite my knack for breaking both. I will cherish every second that I've spent with you and I will not stop thinking about you while I'm gone. And, if I am to die in the Underworld, the last thing I will see, the last thing I will hear, will be you, Belle. Always. I will die a hero if I must, for you. And for Bae.
I love you, Belle. I love you, I love you, I love you.
Yours in life and death, forever and always,
Rumplestiltskin
Belle's eyes skimmed across his name and she was grateful she had sat down on the mattress when she began to read because now she had no strength left in her body to sit up, let alone stand. The tears that had silently slipped down her cheeks through his letter now exemplified and the parchment slipped from her fingers. Lying on her side and curling into herself, she heaved heavy sobs and clutched her hands to her unbearably aching chest.
This couldn't be the end. It couldn't. Rumplestiltskin told her he may return to her one day, but she knew him better than that. He was trying to provide hope, for them both, when he knew he would never return to her. He would either be stuck there or he would die. And he knew this even as he wrote the letter to her. She understood why he left her behind and while she appreciated his concern with all of her heart, she couldn't help but be upset with him at the same time. No one decided her fate but her.
And then the craziest idea entered Belle's mind, but she knew that if she could find a way, she would go, and from that moment she was set with determination. Regardless of what Rumplestiltskin wished, she spent weeks in the shop or the library, poring over book after book, searching for some ritual or incantation that could lead her to her True Love. She didn't have Regina or Rumple to help with this particular issue, leaving her to ask the Blue Fairy for help. But her pleas were refuted; the only way to journey to such a place would involve Dark Magic, which Blue would have no part of. So Belle French spent nearly every waking moment, alone, searching for a way to the Underworld.
She told herself that the only reason she wanted to go was so that she could be with him, but part of it was to chew him out for making this decision for her. They had been separated far too often and it was time they were finally together.
It was two weeks after she read Rumple's letter that her bout of sickness hit. It was sudden and unexpected but she knew her frayed emotions had begun to take their toll on her. She was grateful for those rare days where she was able to start researching bright and early in the morning; leaning over the porcelain bowl in the bathroom to empty her stomach grew tedious after a while. It seemed her temper had increased too. When she wasn't furious from coming home empty-handed at the end of a long day researching, she curled up on their bed and cried herself to sleep, clutching the pillow that smelt like him tightly to her chest.
It wasn't until a whole, solitary month had passed since his abrupt departure that she finally found her answer, just when she felt close to giving up. She had rummaged through every shelf in the library, every secret compartment in the shop, every room in their home, skimming through book after book. She had been looking through one of the last stacks of ancient volumes in the back of the shop when all of her efforts finally paid off.
And that was it. She had her answer. She had a way to journey to her True Love's side. Price be damned, Belle ventured into the Underworld.