It had been a little over two months since Rumplestiltskin had struck a deal with the leader of a small village to save their little town from the wrath of the Ogres. Belle, a beautiful young woman and the daughter of the village's leader, had been the price of peace. She was unlike anybody Rumplestiltskin had ever met before. She was brave, sure, but there was something about her that was utterly special…something he couldn't put his finger on.
Rumplestiltskin watched from a high window as Belle strolled slowly through his large garden, carrying a small basket on her arm which held a few golden roses. She would stop every so often to gaze upon the beautiful flowers in the garden, admiring their rich and exotic colors. If she couldn't see the world, she could at least see some of its flora. She held a small cup of water in her hands, occasionally taking sips as she walked, immersed in the colors that surrounded her and completely lost in their beauty.
Suddenly, Belle stopped abruptly. Rumplestiltskin leant forward off the window ledge, squinting to see why she had faltered in her path. Belle crouched down among the flowers, observing a tiny weed among the orchids. It may not have been large, but it stood out like a sore thumb. Rumplestiltskin expected her to pluck it from the bed of flowers; clearly, it didn't belong there. She didn't. Instead, Belle took her small cup of water and poured it gingerly over the small weed. She carefully touched its stem and helped the plant to stand upright so it caught the gleam of the sunlight.
Curious girl, he thought to himself, backing away from the window. He turned and walked down the stairs leading from the long hallway and down into the courtyard. Seeing Belle admiring the large weeping willow tree next to the lake, he strode over to her silently and stopped behind her, smelling the light, sweet fragrance that she seemed to emit.
"Enjoying the flowers, dearie?" He asked, standing directly behind her. Belle jumped. She spun around, hastily straightening the bottom of her dress.
"Why, yes, yes of course. They're all beautiful. So many different kinds, it's amazing." She answered, her blue eyes gleaming like sapphires.
"I've gathered them from places in my travels all across the land. I thought it would make for an impressive courtyard." Rumplestiltskin said, straightening himself proudly.
"Well," she began, her cheeks growing a faint pink, "it is impressive." She tucked a chocolate brown curl behind her ear and began to turn away before Rumplestiltskin began to speak.
"I must ask you, though, Belle," he started, running a hand through his wavy hair, "why you did not pick out the weed? You gave it water, why?" Belle bit her lip as her lips turned even pinker.
"You saw that?" she asked shyly. Rumplestiltskin nodded, a smirk crossing his lips.
"Well, just because a weed is not an orchid or a tiger lily doesn't mean it is not a flower. Doesn't mean it isn't beautiful or that it doesn't need love. It is alive, it is breathing just like us. I just gave it what it needed. Maybe one day it will become a dandelion, and somebody can make a wish from it. Even the most despised of living things need love." She explained with a small smile, her eyes cast downward. Rumplestiltskin tilted his head inquisitively and started to turn away.
"Enjoy the rest of the courtyard, dearie." He said, beginning to walk back inside the castle.
"Is, erm, there anything for me to do for you?" She asked, starting after him.
"No, no, don't concern yourself. Enjoy." He replied, turning to give Belle a little bow. She smiled and spun back to the garden, a flood of color greeting her as the sunlight ricocheted off of the petals. Belle took a deep breath and took in the sight.
Maybe it wouldn't be so bad here, she thought to herself. Maybe someday it would feel like home.