IV

Welcome Home, Dearie

Baelfire paced absently before the hearth in the grand library which took up the better part of the east wing of the Dark Castle, his nose stuck in the most recent book his sister had thrust into his hands to read the passage she'd marked. "So apparently we've been looking in the wrong books," he grumbled miserably. "This whole time we've been trying to find a magical solution —"

"It is a magical solution, Bae, just not the kind of magic we've been exploring," Morraine cut him off impatiently. She hated when he interrupted her while she was reading.

"I can't believe we didn't see it before. When Papa said true love's kiss would break the curse … wait! Will it break any curse or just sleeping curses?" he asked, scratching his head.

Morraine rolled her eyes. Her brother lacked vision. "Bae, this one tells of a witch who turned a prince into a frog and his true love broke the curse by kissing him. There's another over in this stack," she sighed, tapping the correct pile of books on the coffee table, "where a sorceress cursed a prince to transform him into a rampaging beast and his true love broke it with her kiss. So, I'm assuming it will work on Papa's curse as well."

He whirled to face her, snapping the book shut. "These books all have one thing in common, Morraine … one thing which leaves Papa at a distinct disadvantage. He's not a prince. All the people in these books were either a prince or princess."

Morraine gave him a look that said Seriously-are-you-kidding-me? "Sometimes I worry about you, Bae."

"Just what is that supposed to mean?" he asked defensively.

"Nevermind," she replied, shaking her long blonde locks away from her face with a flick of her head. "These are stories, most of them fairy tales. Fairy tales are written mostly for entertainment. They're somewhat based on fact, but more embellished than anything. Apparently, the authors believe the readers will enjoy the stories more if they're about royals. Who doesn't wish to be a princess? Or a prince? I doubt they would sell all that well if they were about some common peasant whose true love was the goat-herder's daughter."

He sat back on the settee next to her and rubbed at his tired eyes. "I'd read it."

She nodded. "I would, too, but that's beside the point. This is the best thing we've come across since we've been researching Papa's curse. Even the books written about the Dark One have little to tell about how to break his curse. Probably because the idiots who wrote the book were more interested in sensationalizing how awful he is."

"Take that back, Morraine," Baelfire yelled, his cheeks flushing with anger as he glowered at her. "He's not awful!"

"I know that," she said with an imperious sniff as she arched a brow at him, clearly nonplussed by his show of temper. "But Papa isn't the only man to have been cursed by the Dark One. He hasn't done any of the vile things written about him."

The boy yawned, stretching his arms over his head as his eyes sought out the clock on the mantle. "Where is he, do you suppose? He should have been back hours ago?"

"He'll be home soon," she assured him. "He never leaves us alone overnight, though he will often come in late. You know that."

Baelfire leaned his head against his sister's shoulder, a new thought invading his active mind to trouble him. "Morraine, it's all well and good that we've finally found a way to break Papa's curse —"

"But? I know I hear a 'but' in there," she snarked in a dry tone.

"Papa doesn't have a true love. How is he supposed to share true love's kiss with someone when he doesn't have one?" he asked morosely.

Morraine laid her book down on her lap and looked at her brother with a coy smile. "Everyone has a true love. We'll just have to help him find her."

*.*.*

Belle gaped as the smoke cleared, revealing the massive iron gates set into the high stone walls surrounding the looming fortress known as the Dark Castle, home to the Dark One and now … her. They opened for their master and he ushered her inside, his hand barely brushing the small of her back as he led her forward. The dirt path they'd stood on was replaced by light grey cobblestones, cleared of snow and ice. She shivered as she took in the grounds, topiaries capped with snow and trees barren of their leaves. She couldn't help but wonder what it would look like in the spring. The fortress was surrounded by mountains on three sides and she was sure the pass on the other side of the now closed gates was the only way down to the forest road below.

"Are you cold, pet? We'll be inside in a moment where you can warm yourself by the fire. I just thought you might like to see the courtyard before going inside," he said, rubbing his warm palm over her numb fingers where they now rested against his sleeve.

She smiled shyly up at him from beneath her lashes, still unsure of how to take his mercurial moods. Her chest still felt warm from his earlier statement of how she was a hero to her people. She'd always wanted to be a hero, but how could she when she was so sheltered by her father and used only for political gain. "Thank you, Rumpelstiltskin. Your home is lovely from what I've seen so far."

"Our home, pet. Don't forget; you're now the Lady of the Dark Castle. It will obey your whims just as it will mine," he murmured softly. "There are a few things you should know. Do not leave the grounds under any circumstances unless I am here to accompany you." He stopped and held up a hand to quell her protests. "It is for your protection, dearie, nothing more. You are not my prisoner. I have many enemies and the walls are warded to keep them out rather than to keep you in."

He guided her up the front steps, hurrying their pace as she continued to shiver. She was unused to the cold climate since Avonlea was farther south in the warm marshlands. "Are you gone very often?" she couldn't help but wonder aloud, "because of your deals?"

The sorcerer arched a brow at her as he led her into the foyer and down a long corridor and into the Great Hall. "It depends on how many requests I receive … some more, some less." A note of disdain entered his voice. "Why, pet? Afraid you might have to spend too much time in my presence?"

"I didn't say that," she said defensively. "I would just like to know the man I married. How am I to do that if you're away a great deal?"

He stared down at her, a puzzled frown knitting his brow. He didn't know quite what to make of the little princess. Who would actually want to get to know him? A tone chimed throughout the castle as a blazing fire roared to life in the hearth. "Yes, well, we'll see."

"What was that?" she asked, startling at the noise, following him to stand on the hearth rug and stretch out her hands toward the flames to warm them.

"Oh … that? Merely a chime to alert the children when I return." The doors burst open and two whirlwinds came at him at a full run. He held up his hands to hold them off before they knocked him down, bracing his feet on the plush Agrabahan rug. "Speaking of which … here they are now," he snarked, unable to stall the genuine laugh of pleasure which spilled from his lips. He gathered them close as their arms wrapped about his waist. "What've I told you about running? Save it for outdoors. You're going to fall and hurt yourselves one of these days," he scolded gently. "Or break something irreplaceable … like your necks!"

Belle's eyes softened as she took in the loving family before her. Warmth spread through her as she looked at the children and the love shining in their dark eyes for the imp who was now her husband. The girl's dark mocha eyes were large, enhancing her lovely face, golden waves cascading about her shoulders. She wore a robe in a lovely shade of rose pink, the color nearly matching the rosy blush of her cheeks. The boy, with his dark hair and eyes was dressed in a royal blue robe, a bright welcoming smile on his lips. They were beautiful and clearly exuded the confidence that they were well loved and cared for.

Rumpelstiltskin took each of their hands and drew them forward to meet Belle, curious wide eyes staring back at her. "Baelfire, Morraine, I'd like you to meet Belle … my … er … my new wife."

The children shared a wide-eyed look with one another, their mouths gaping, before rushing forward to greet her. They each took one of her hands and led her over to their father's favorite chair before the hearth, urging her to sit. Morraine dropped to her knees on the thick rug to Belle's left, Baelfire to her right. And then the questions began.

"Did you really marry our Papa?"

"Are you in love with him?"

"How did you meet?"

"What kind of distress did he save you from? You're a damsel, right?" that from Baelfire, his mind still on the multitude of tomes he'd poured over that evening.

It was Belle's turn to gape as she sent a pleading look in her husband's direction. "Um … well …"

"Children!" the imp said, clapping his hands to get their attention. "Where are your manners? I know you're excited, but Belle is surely exhausted after the events of today. One question apiece and then off to bed with you."

"Sorry, Papa," they answered in unison.

Belle giggled, thoroughly charmed by their precocious behavior, drawing their attention back to her. "First of all, may I say, I am very pleased to meet you both. And I will answer all of your questions, otherwise you will be so bursting with excitement you won't be able to catch a wink of sleep." They sat back on their heels and grinned at each other. "Which would you like to have answered first?"

"Are you a damsel in distress? Was Papa your prince come to rescue you?" Baelfire blurted out before Morraine could draw breath to ask her own.

Rumpelstiltskin smacked a palm to his brow and dragged it down his face. What the hell have they been reading? I really need to go through the library again to have a look at their choice of literature. Guh! Yet, his little wife seemed to be happy to answer their questions.

"I was indeed, Baelfire —"

"You can call me Bae," he interrupted.

"Very well, Bae it shall be," she said, affectionately tapping the end of his nose. "I called on your Papa to save my kingdom from ogres. Our armies were decimated by the beasts and we'd lost many of our soldiers. He was our only hope," she said, casting a grateful smile at the sorcerer. "So, yes, I was indeed a damsel in distress."

Morraine's happiness seemed to deflate, her smile sad. "So, that's how you met, a deal. You were his price, weren't you?"

Rumpelstiltskin looked down at his boots, unable to bear the sight of disappointment in his daughter's eyes.

"That may be so, Morraine, but that doesn't mean we can't make a new life together as man and wife," Belle said gently. "Marriages are arranged all the time amongst royals to ally their kingdoms with others. Sometimes it works out very nicely and the two come to love each other."

"It doesn't bother you that he's the Dark One?" Baelfire asked, his brows disappearing beneath his fringe of brown curls.

"Enough!" the imp said sternly, finding he didn't want to hear the answer to that particular question. It was enough that she'd married him, a bonus that she seemed to be getting on well with his children. He didn't expect more, and he certainly didn't deserve it. Unfortunately, his feelings of unworthiness made his tone sharper than he would have preferred. "Belle has answered all of your questions. Time for bed."

Belle rose with them and waited patiently as they each gave him a peck on the cheek before saying goodnight and dragging themselves from the hall. "They are simply lovely, Rumpel … ah … can I call you Rumpel? Your name is quite the mouthful." She was met with a blank stare and quickly amended, "Unless you'd prefer I didn't."

He felt a warm rush of pleasure at the shortened version of his name slipping so easily from her tongue, though he was loath to admit it. He couldn't understand why this little slip of a girl had him so tied up in knots. "As you wish, pet." He once again offered his arm and she stepped forward to tuck her hand inside his elbow. "Come, I'll show you to your room. I'm sure you must wish to retire." It didn't go unnoticed how her cheeks went up in flames. "Tomorrow I'll give you a tour of the castle. I'm sure the children will want to join us for that."

"I'd l-like that very much," she stammered, her stomach churning with trepidation. She watched him surreptitiously from the corner of her eye as he led her through the dimly lit corridors and up an ornate marble staircase to the second floor. She was overwhelmed with the enormity of it all. The palace she'd grown up in had been nowhere as large or as opulent as her new home.

Shiny suits of armor dotted the hallways, tapestries depicting various scenes from history hung from the stone walls, rich carpets covered the hardwood floor and door after door of the various room flew by them as he guided her swiftly through the castle. There was no way she would find her way back to the Great Hall if left to her own devices. She could very well get lost in the stone fortress and die of dehydration before anyone found her.

Rumpelstiltskin paid little heed to the anxiety she exuded, as he was lost in his own. He'd desperately wanted a mother for his children, to relieve some of his burden — and yes, most of his fears centered around the darkness which permeated his dark heart in that respect — and provide a better role model for them. What if someday he lost the battle with the demon who shared his body and he couldn't trust himself with them any longer. He needed to know they would have someone to care for them should that happen, but was the little princess the right person for the task? And now that she was his wife — he still couldn't believe she'd actually agreed to take on that role — what was he to do with her? He hadn't been a husband in what seemed like forever and had failed miserably at the task.

What if he tried to be a true husband to Belle and she rejected him just as Milah had done? Could he live with her rejection if he let himself love her? Why had he wanted a wife again? Oh, yes, to set a good moral example for his children. The noble streak which still resided in his soul was apparently going to be the death of him. Well, it was too late to turn back now. The best he could do was guard his heart and hope for the best.

He was ready to tear his hair out in frustration from his nagging thoughts by the time they reached the corridor leading to the master suite. He steered her past the double doors of his own chamber and into the one set aside for the lady of the castle.

Belle couldn't help but smile as she beheld the elegant appointment of the room. The walls were painted a pale blue with white crown molding, lending a lightness of atmosphere which hadn't been present in the rest of the castle. A huge four poster bed dominated one wall, covered in a multitude of pillows in different shades of blue, cream and gold, the duvet a brilliant shade of periwinkle silk which her fingers itched to touch. A modest-sized hearth rested on the opposite wall, flanked by two richly upholstered wing back chairs she could see herself settling into with a good book.

Her feet sank into the plush carpet beneath her feet as he released her hand, encouraging her to explore. "If there's anything you wish me to change, just let me know, pet. I want you to feel comfortable here. This is your own space and I will not intrude upon it without your permission," he said, lingering in the doorway.

Belle gaped at him in surprise. What kind of man had she married that he thought she would deny him entry to her bedchamber? "No, do come in, R-Rumpel," she said shyly, beckoning him forward, her tongue tripping over his name as she was still trying to get used to the familiarity of it. She smiled as he seemed to finally make up his mind and crossed the threshold.

Her curiosity got the better of her and she didn't hesitate to explore the rest of her chamber. There was a small table on either side of the bed in a light teak wood, one holding a pitcher of water and a jeweled goblet, the other a small oil lamp. A wardrobe in the same teak wood, elegantly carved by a greatly skilled craftsman stood against another wall next to a painted screen. Two archways dominated the last wall and she couldn't stop herself from disappearing through one of them to see what other surprises awaited her. The lamps flared to life and her breath caught as one hand lifted to cover her heart, her eyes widening with pleasure.

Two walls were covered in beautiful teak shelves, not a space left bare and overflowing with books. In the center of the room was a settee, two overstuffed chairs and a low table. "There are so many books," she gushed happily, turning her bright smile and twinkling eyes on him.

He shrugged. "I'm a bit of a collector. Knowledge is power after all, dearie."

"I do love books. I must confess there were times growing up in my father's palace where I would seek solace in the library as often as possible. Especially when I could slip away from my maids." Her tone turned wistful. "There's nothing better than being able to lose yourself in a good book."

Rumpelstiltskin flicked a lazy hand in the direction of the far wall and the heavy velvet drapes of midnight blue swung open to reveal the view beyond. His hand found the small of her back as he led her forward. He tapped a blackened nail against the ornate gold handles on the French door which led out to the terrace shared by both his chamber and hers. "In the spring, you might find some enjoyment sitting out on the terrace, don't you think?" Gods! I sound like an idiot! he thought miserably, trying to hide his insecurities behind a bland mask of indifference. If she were happy, it would decrease the odds of her trying to break their deal and leaving.

Belle took in the majestic view of the mountains and tilted her head to the side, trying to imagine what it would look like vibrant and green and dotted with wildflowers without the heavy blanket of snow. The thought of bright sunshine and fresh air, surrounded by the beauty of spring and her new family brought a smile to her lips. "Yes, I think so."

Her eyes flickered briefly towards the bed and a rosy blush rose in her cheeks. Thankfully, he seemed not to notice as he led the way back into the main room, opening a door in the same wall as the hearth. "This is our bathing chamber," he explained needlessly as she followed him into the room. "It lies between our rooms … um … for us to share." He pointed to another door. "Through there is my own chamber."

She nodded, her eyes widening as she took in the room with its sunken marble tub, a modest sized water closet and double vanity. One wall consisted of nothing but mirrors and several low padded divans were scattered about. "Goodness! It looks like something right out of 1001 Agrabahan Nights."

Her husband huffed a short laugh. "When I was redesigning the castle, Morraine insisted. It was her idea that all the bathing chambers resemble something from her favorite tale. Said it gave the rooms character. She has quite the imagination." He brushed a stray curl behind her ear, unable to resist trailing his long fingers along her cheek. "Does it meet with your approval, pet?"

Belle blushed again and chewed thoughtfully at her lower lip as that fluttering sensation returned to her belly at his light touch. "It's lovely," she assured him, not wanting him to think he had to change it to suit her.

"Very well," he murmured, stepping away from her. "I'll give you the time you need to change. When you're ready, join me in my chamber."

Belle reached out, grasping his sleeve as he turned to leave. "I-I … ah … would you perhaps help me with my fastenings?" she asked, her face heating again. "It took three maids to get me into this dress, but I think if you loosen the stays, I might be able to manage."

He stood rooted to the spot, staring after her as she walked back into her room. A surge of white-hot lust rippled through him, making the constraining leather covering his groin seem like a medieval torture device. Yet, how could he deny her simple request. He'd either have to hire a lady's maid — which didn't seem possible because no one wanted to work for the Dark One — or he'd have to purchase her a new wardrobe. One which didn't have such complicated fastenings. He gulped around the lump of nervousness which rose in his throat and trailed after her.

Yes, definitely a new wardrobe, he thought irritably as he tackled the long row of buttons along the back of the robin's egg blue gown. Tiny little buttons which sought to escape his callused fingers. He'd gotten maybe five unbuttoned before he was ready to rip the garment from her petite frame and toss it into the hearth. He tugged a bit too sharply and she tumbled back into him, her body fitting easily to his. He forced himself to bite back a groan as the sweet curve of her bottom molded itself perfectly to his groin.

It wasn't her, he tried to convince himself. It was simply the fact that he'd been too long without a woman. It didn't help when she glanced up at him over her shoulder, her wide blue eyes questioning. "I'm sorry, husband, I must've lost my balance."

Her sweet floral scent rose from her hair, the softness of her skin brushed the back of his knuckles as he worked the buttons and he groaned. The leather constricted him even more as his cock engorged further. He was seconds away from proving just what a beast he was and that was not how he wanted their relationship to begin. She was an innocent maid, untouched by any man and he wouldn't give in to his baser urges and rut with her like an animal. He had to regain control and stripping her from her clothes wasn't conducive to repressing his lust.

With a quick flick of his wrist, the buttons popped open and her corset strings loosened. He was sure if she hadn't been holding a hand to her bodice, the heavy dress would have fallen to pool at her feet. He pulled the edges of his dragon hide coat together, hoping if she turned, she wouldn't see the noticeable bulge in his trousers.

"There you are, pet," he said, grimacing as he noticed his voice was a bit shrill even to his ears. Fuck! She was turning him into a rambling fool. "You should be able to finish on your own. I'm just going to …"

"Yes?" she asked, turning partially to see him as he backed towards the door.

I'm going for a dip in the frozen lake, so I don't take my wife right here on the hearth rug of her new bedroom, that's what! "… to … to …" His eyes dropped to the gentle swell of her breasts over the sagging lace bodice of her gown before snapping them back up to her face to meet her gaze. "… take a bath. I'll see you in an hour, dearie."

Belle let the gown drop to her feet, a breath of relief whooshing out of her as the door closed with a sharp click of the latch. She took comfort in the fact that he seemed just as nervous about the night ahead of them as she was.

After a quick search, she discovered her things had already been unpacked and stored away in the wardrobe, the portmanteau tucked beneath her bed. She hung the gown up in the wardrobe next to her other dresses and retrieved a night dress before disappearing behind the screen to change. She was grateful for the basin and pitcher of fresh warm water she found there, adding a bit of rose scented oil to the water and giving herself a quick wash. She'd had a bath before dinner, but with all the excitement of her deal and the wedding following, it was nice to rid herself of the thin film of perspiration which clung to her skin.

Belle surveyed her reflection in the mirror with a critical eye as she slowly brushed out her shiny chestnut curls. The slow methodical strokes did nothing to relieve the tension coiled like a spring within her. She glanced down at her modest night gown, scoop-necked and long-sleeved. The preparations to her trousseau had barely begun when she'd decided to call upon the Dark One and who could have guessed he'd want to marry her. She was, however, disappointed not to have anything better to wear for such a memorable night. What was she going to do? She was chewing her lip raw with nervous anticipation. She had no knowledge of what to expect other than what she'd been told, and it was those thoughts which had her ready to run in fear. She wouldn't, of course. Her mother hadn't raised some squeamish miss who would shirk her duty.

She glanced at the ornate clock on the mantel over the hearth, the glass allowing her to see the gears and cogs as it ticked away with every second, time marching on. He was expecting her, and she wouldn't disappoint him. She gathered her courage about her like a cloak and marched determinedly to the door, taking a deep breath as her hand paused on the knob. It was now or never. She just prayed he'd be gentle with her.

*.*.*

Baelfire's bare feet padded across the carpet as he crept silently into his sister's room and crawled up onto the bed. "Morraine?"

She didn't even answer, merely lifted the corner of the blankets so he could slide in next to her. His breath was warm and smelled faintly of mint as his head came to rest on the pillow next to hers. She cracked one eye open and hid a wide yawn behind her hand. "What are you doing in here, Bae?"

"I can't sleep."

"You always say that," she murmured sleepily. Morraine rolled her eyes and bit her lip to hold back a grin. As if that weren't obvious, she thought, reaching out to rub his back in a soothing manner. "You need to sleep."

"How can you think of sleep at a time like this?" he snarked in a loud whisper.

"Because, brother dear, I have the sense to know that I want to be awake and alert tomorrow morning when we have breakfast with our … parents," she said meaningfully.

Baelfire yawned and burrowed deeper under the duvet. "Did you happen to notice how Papa was watching her? He likes her. I mean, really likes her."

She rolled over on her back and stared at the pink canopy above the bed with its pattern of roses. "I did, but we can't get our hopes up, Bae. He's merely intrigued with her at the moment. There's no guarantee they'll fall in love, much less find true love."

"Maybe all they need is a little push," he suggested as his eyes began to droop. He had never been able to understand why he was able to relax so thoroughly when he crawled in bed with his sister when he had the same mattress on his own. It could be that he just didn't like to sleep alone.

"Oh, no! There will be none of your pranks, Baelfire. We don't want to ruin what might be between them before it has a chance to grow. At least not before we have a chance to get to know her."

"That didn't exactly sound like a no, Morraine."

"All I'm saying is before we decide to help Papa on the road to true love, we need to make sure our new stepmother can love him for who he is instead of his power." She turned over onto her side to face him again, gripping his chin in her hand to make him focus. "Deal?"

His eyes were already slipping closed, but he was lucid enough to know not to go to sleep before he answered. "Deal. But if she can't … she'll have to go."

A/N: Thank you sooo much for reading! And I can't begin to tell you how much your reviews and comments warm my heart (and excite my muse to no end). I'm so glad you're all enjoying it. I just adore Morraine and Baelfire. They're so much fun to write. And to those of you who have reviewed, excitedly awaiting the wedding night … well, let's just say it's NOT what you're expecting. (o: My beta, however, was giddy with glee when she read it, so hopefully, you'll like it too. Much love to you all, my darlings!