Title: The Comforter

Summary: Belle asks for something of Rumpelstiltskin's.


It makes Rumpelstiltskin happy if Belle is happy, and the joy radiating from her is brighter than the sun these days. She's truly found her niche as the new Storybrooke librarian.

Most people don't realize, but the library had never been open before. The memories the curse provided told the whole town that it had closed a long time ago, but no one really remembers when. Rumpelstiltskin knows the truth. The library was created only for the purpose of housing the secret below it. None of that matters anymore.

Belle is busy sorting through shelves, learning how to catalog books, removing layers of dust off everything. The library will open soon, and her enthusiasm cannot be contained as she tours Rumpelstiltskin around, showing him all the hard work she has put into her new purpose. He's hardly paying attention to what she's showing him. He's more interested in watching her infectious smile and gleaming blue eyes.

"Do you want to see how the apartment is coming along?" Belle asks, and he shakes himself from the sight of her lovely painted lips.

"Of course, dear" he answers, realizing she has invited him into her personal space. She knows his quite well, first with Dark Castle and then in his current house. He's never seen a place that she can call her own.

Belle leads the way up a flight of stairs. It's a rather steep climb, but Rumpelstiltskin is up for the challenge. If she'd ask him to climb a mountain with her, he'd find a way to follow.

The stairs leads straight into a small kitchen that's openly attached to a square den. Belle sweeps a hand around. "Not much to the place, I know, but it's slowly becoming homier."

"You have plenty of time to make it your own" Rumpelstiltskin encourages. His house is vast, elegant, and filled with more objects than anyone could ever collect in a lifetime. This quaint apartment could fit inside his ground floor and still have room to grow. Even with its small size, he can feel something his house has never had – warmth and tender-loving care.

"Look at these!" Belle bounces to the old wooden cabinet above the counter and pulls out a white porcelain plate, displaying it proudly to him. "I bought my own dishes! And it has this beautiful rose pattern around the edges, trimmed with gold."

Rumpelstiltskin could hardly see what was so exciting about a set of dinnerware, but he smiles and nods and enjoys the moment with her. "It's lovely."

She replaces the plate and gestures for him to follow her to a separate room attached to the den with a door closed shut. He knows it must be the bedroom, and is right when she reveals it to him. It's the plainest area of the apartment. White walls, white bed sheets on a full bed, and a rickety dresser against one wall. It's a sad contrast to all the colorful décor she's already acquired throughout the den.

"Can I ask you something?" Belle leans against the door frame, hands behind her back. He nods in response, watching Belle nibble her bottom lip nervously. "This may sound silly, but can I borrow the bedclothes from your house? The ones I used while staying there."

Glancing at the stark white sheets and thin brown comforter resting on her bed, he can understand why she'd desire different sheets. "Of course you can, darling, but why those bedclothes in particular? I have more to choose from if you wish to look." He'd buy her a whole new set made from the softest material in the world if she'd allow him to.

Belle shifts, pushing off the door frame, wringing her hands. She meets his eyes, but he can tell it's taking an effort to. "These bedclothes are stiff and cold and remind me too much of the asylum." She wraps her arms about her chest as if to ward off a sudden chill. Rumpelstiltskin grips the handle of his cane, wishing to gather her to his chest, to make the dark memories flee.

"I get-" she pauses, taking a cleansing breath and Rumpelstiltskin can't hold his hand down anymore. He rubs her forearm and is glad when she doesn't shy away from his touch. "I get scared sometimes at night. I woke up feeling those sheets and think I'm still in the asylum and that being rescued was all just a dream."

She's only talked of her fears of the asylum once during their first night together. He'd heard her sobbing through the wall, and rushed into the guest room ready to slay whatever foe was after his Belle. It was only a nightmare that had disturbed her sleep, but she asked him to stay with her and he held her tightly, hoping his presence would chase away the horror.

"The bedclothes I used at your home make me feel safe and warm-" Belle gives a little shrug, her voice thick and watery, "and reminds me of you."

"Darling." Rumpelstiltskin wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him. Belle's body is rigid, but he feels her breathe in deeply and relaxes against him. "Yes, darling, you can have the bedclothes. Do you want me to bring them?"

Belle steps out of his hold, shaking her head. "No, I'll come by to pick them up this evening."

"All right." He needs to let her know that he'd here for her, that if she needs him he'll drop everything for her. "If you ever wake up during the night and wish to not be alone, you can call me. I'll come and stay with you no matter what time of night it is."

Belle offers a somber smile. "I know you would, Rumpelstiltskin." He holds her gaze, longing to banish the shadows behind her eyes.

There's not much more to see of the apartment besides the compact bathroom, and they start back down the stairs, the vulnerable moment passing, the nightmares stored away.

Belle's bright smile crosses her lips, flashing over her shoulder at him and Rumpelstiltskin is thankful to see the sun shining again. "Is there any chance I can have that mouse phone from your shop?"