A/N: Jefferson to the rescue! I love him. Poor Rumple. He's so in for it when she gets home. I really hope y'all liked the last chapter. It was a bit of a tear-jerker for me to write. Thank you, everyone, for the lovely reviews. I live for them so please leave some.
X
"Are you alright, princess?" Jefferson asked, edging his horse closer to Belle's so he could reach out and grab her hand.
"I suppose ... Just nervous, I guess." They were nearing the outskirts of the village which rested at the bottom of the mountain. She hadn't lied to her friend and rescuer; she really was nervous. It had been an arduous journey home. She was exhausted, having followed the hard pace Jefferson had set before them and she'd slept little. She couldn't seem to keep the nightmares at bay. She was having nightmares about Rumpelstiltskin's reaction to her return. What if he really didn't care for her? What if he threw her out once more? Where would she go? She was certain of the fact she would never return to Avonlea. After what her father had just put her through, she didn't care ever to set eyes on him again.
Jefferson led them around the village, just to be on the safe side after his reception on his last visit. The road forked ahead of them and he slowed, regarding Belle worriedly. "I wish you would reconsider, Belle. It's not in your best interests to face him alone. I don't think he would hurt you, but you have to admit he's more unpredictable than a crocodile. There's always a chance —"
Belle kept her eyes on the road ahead of her, dread seeping into her bones as Jefferson voiced everything she had been worrying over for days. She stiffened her spine. Courage, Belle. "I'll be fine, Jefferson. I need to do this alone. I don't want him to take his anger out on you if something goes horribly wrong." She graced him with one of her rare smiles. Lately, she hadn't had very much to smile about. She'd been too busy with her tears and her heartbreak. "Besides, you need to see your darling Grace. I'm sure she has missed you terribly."
Jefferson smiled at her sheepishly. "As I do her, but at least she's with her auntie Alex, no doubt having one tea party after another." His smile faded. "I will return to the Dark Castle in two days, Belle." He held up his hand when she began to protest. "I can't leave you there not knowing if you're alright. No arguments. Two days."
Belle leaned over in her saddle and pressed a light kiss to his cheek. "Thank you again, Jefferson. If you hadn't come to my rescue, by now I would be wed to that brute my father chose for me. I don't know how I will ever be able to repay you."
"Belle, I love you, my darling girl. I don't have many I can call friend, and you are a bright flame in the darkness. You bring joy to all who know you. It will always be my pleasure to come to your aid, no matter how big or small."
Belle could feel the tears spring to her eyes at his words. Not one of the friends she'd grown up with in Avonlea had ever felt that way about her. His words brought her courage to deal with her problems ahead. "I love you, too, Jefferson. Give Grace my love, and I'd like you to think about bringing her with you when you visit again. I'd like that very much."
They parted ways at the fork, Jefferson going to the right and Belle the left as she spurred her horse on in the direction of the Dark Castle. With every beat of the horse's hooves, her heart rate increased until she believed it would fly out of her chest. She gripped the reins tightly in her fist, urging more speed from the beast. It seemed no time had passed before she was riding through the gate – the great iron barrier welcoming her back - and dismounting at the front steps of the castle. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. Home!
Belle pushed open the heavy double doors and paused. Something was off. A heavy dark pall hung in the air, almost as if the castle was alive with the same darkness which resided in its master. She glanced around the foyer, her eyes coming to light on the vase of roses sitting on the table. They'd turned completely black and lifeless. She sighed wearily. He'd let the darkness dominate him once again. She could feel the anger welling up in her chest to choke her. He'd done this to himself. He'd done this to her and she was so mad she could spit.
Belle moved on to the double doors leading into the Great Hall and stopped abruptly as she took in the destruction. Their lovely home was a complete mess. Her eyes scanned the room, thinking it would take her days to clean it up. The long dining table had been cleaved in two. The lovely glass cabinet which spanned from floor to ceiling, and held his treasures, was a mess of broken glass and splintered wood, its treasures cracked or broken. The floor was littered with debris.
For the first time since she'd made her deal with Rumpelstiltskin, the massive stone hearth was cold. The mirror which had been covered in one corner was shattered and pushed up against the wall. The soft rug she loved to sit on before the fire place was ripped to shreds. But it was his spinning wheel lying broken and damaged on its side which distressed her most. The only thing which seemed to have survived was the sofa sitting next to it.
And that's where she found him. He was lying on his back, one arm thrown over his eyes and the other cradling her chipped cup to his chest. She fought back the tears threatening to betray her, pulling her anger about her like a shield. Her steps were purposeful as she strode through the chaos destroying the peace of her home. She stopped mere inches from him, hands on her hips, eyes glittering.
"You unbelievable bastard!"
*.*.*
Rumpelstiltskin sighed as her voice washed over him in a silken caress. It was back to torture him some more. Everywhere he went, he heard her voice. Visions of her lovely self popped up with more and more frequency to bedevil him. He would never be free of them. He would see her flouncing in from the kitchen to bring him tea. He would see her sitting upon her sofa reading to him softly. He would see her standing at the window looking out or lying on the hearth rug enjoying the fire. Always she would look up at him with those beautiful jewel-bright eyes and ask him how he could leave her. He felt a tear escape his eye as he turned to look at the vision of her.
This was new. He'd never had a vision of her dressed like that. She was standing there dressed as though she'd raided his own closet. The black leather pants fit her like a second skin, the ends tucked into knee high boots and the royal blue silk shirt draped her torso in a most appealing way. He quirked a brow at her. His daydreams were getting a bit ridiculous apparently. Nor had she ever yelled at him like that, her eyes flashing angrily, hands planted firmly on her rounded hips. This was one daydream he never wanted to wake from. She was absolutely magnificent.
"What have you done to our home, Rumpelstiltskin? How could you? Do you have any idea what I had to do to get back to you?! And this is what I come home to find." She was yelling again. He frowned at her, shaking his head to clear it. His guilt must be what was causing this difference in her.
"I'm really not in the mood for another vision right now, dearie."
"What?" What was wrong with him? He was looking at her as if she wasn't really there. Had he been fighting with her ghosts? It was slowly dawning on her that he was in more despair than she'd originally thought.
He rose from the sofa, setting the cup on the mantle over the hearth before moving to stand before her. His eyes raked her appreciatively as he slowly circled her, never close enough to touch her. "I must say, this vision must be my imagination reaching new levels of insanity. You've never appeared to me in such tantalizing apparel." He leaned close to her, inhaling deeply, his eyes closing as a fresh wave of pain crossed his features. "You even smell like my Belle."
Belle had had enough. He really didn't believe she was real. He thought she was a figment of his imagination. He'll thank me later, she thought wildly and let her hand smack sharply against his face. "Snap out of it, Rumpel!"
He staggered slightly under the force of her blow, more out of stunned disbelief than anything. His dream Belle had never been able to touch him before. His hand had always passed straight through her, leaving him wanting. He grabbed her upper arms in a forceful grip, pulling her struggling form into his embrace. She was real. "You're real," he breathed into the curve of her neck, unwilling to believe she'd returned to him. She pushed against his chest, her nails digging into his flesh. He dropped to his knees before her, pressing his face into the soft silk covering her belly.
Belle fought to hold onto her anger as she looked down at the top of his head. He was crying silent tears as he held her to him, his grip on her unbreakable, even if she had wanted him to let her go. Her heart softened, her anger dissipating in her chest. She threaded her hands through the fine strands of his hair, reveling at the softness. He'd never let her touch him like this before.
"Rumpel, stop, love," she whispered softly, continuing to run her fingers through his hair. "Get up off the floor, please." His answer was to grip her tighter. "Would you at least look at me?"
He shook his head. "I don't deserve it."
"I agree; however, I have no wish to have this conversation with the top of your head," she said dryly, trying unsuccessfully to lift his face up to hers. She squealed in surprise as he stood and lifted her in his arms, carrying her over to the sofa and sitting down with her. He draped his arm across her legs, holding her firmly in place and laid his head against her shoulder, still refusing to meet her eyes. She knew this was going to be more difficult than she'd anticipated. She laid her cheek atop his head and closed her eyes, letting the stress of the past three days drain out of her.
"Why did you come back?" he asked, his voice low and uncertain. It actually took her by surprise. She'd never known him to be anything but confident and craggy and snappish. She shook her head, refusing to dwell upon it. Her heart broke for him. How could he not know?
She cupped his face in her hands, forcing him to meet her steady gaze. She could see the pain in his soft amber gaze. She could see the remorse and the self-loathing and centuries of heartache. "Because I love you, Rumpelstiltskin. What I endured to return to you is … because I love you." She brushed her lips to his, unmindful of her tears, unmindful of his tears. She was home, sitting on his lap and wrapped securely in his embrace. Nothing else mattered at that moment. She pulled away slightly and brushed the hair away from his eyes. She couldn't get caught up in her desire for him, yet. There was too much to discuss, too many answers she needed before they could move forward.
"You can't ... love me, Belle. I'm a beast, a monster. I'll do nothing but drag you into the darkness. That's why I returned you to your father. I couldn't allow myself to destroy you," he rasped, his voice trembling.
Belle brushed her lips along his jaw to his ear. "Yes, and I'm still quite mad at you for that stunt. You broke my heart, Rumpelstiltskin."
"Does it help to know I regretted it the moment I left you? I could hear you calling me, Belle. Your pleas and your tears shrieking through my brain nearly destroyed me. But I think it was worse when you stopped, when I couldn't hear you any longer. I felt as though a part of me died."
"Why?" she asked, lowering her eyes to his mouth. "Tell me why."
He tilted her chin up, his fingers fanning out over her cheek. "Look at me, sweetheart. Don't hide from me." Finally, she dragged her gaze up to meet his. "I did what I thought was best because no matter how much I fight it, I can't stop myself from loving you. And it's wrong, Belle. It's unnatural. I've been told more than once Dark Ones aren't capable of love."
Belle snorted. "Rubbish! Shouldn't that be for me to decide?" She ignored the stubborn look he was giving her. She grinned, her gaze filled with mischief. "How about we make a deal ... dearie?" she asked, throwing his own words back at him.
He threw his head back and roared with laughter, the sound foreign to his ears as he gave her hip a squeeze. "A deal, you say? Are you sure, dearie?" She nodded. "What is it you wish to barter? What is your heart's desire?"
Belle tapped her chin with her finger thoughtfully. "Hmm. I must think this through, so you can't twist my words. I must word it just perfectly to prevent it backfiring on me."
"Never, love. Anything you wish."
Her eyes were full of love as she peeked up at him from beneath her lashes. "I want you to never send me away again."
"Done," he promised, drawing her bottom lip between his own.
"Not finished. I don't want you to hide your feelings from me ever again."
"Done," he said, moving his lips along her jaw and nipping her ear with his teeth. "Anything else, my love?"
It was becoming increasingly difficult for her to concentrate. "Um ..."
"Um is good." He drew the lobe into his mouth and sucked gently, moving his hand along her leather-clad thigh.
"Ummmm," she moaned, helpless against the onslaught of his lips. She drew away slightly. "Rumpel, is this how you make all your deals?"
He crooked a brow at her. "Most assuredly not," he scoffed indignantly. "But this is a special deal. This is yours." He returned his lips to her neck. "Now continue with your demands."
"I want forever," she rasped breathlessly, slipping her hand into the open collar of his shirt.
His tongue dipped into the hollow of her throat, eliciting another moan from the delightful girl in his arms. "And what are you promising in return, my love? What is your offer? You're demanding forever, so I assume what you're offering must be profound."
"What do you want?"
"You."
"You already have me," she declared honestly.
"Make me an offer."
She sighed into his mouth as he claimed her lips once more. "Happiness."
He released her lips and rested his brow against hers, searching her face. "You make it sound almost possible."
"It is. All you have to do is have faith in us. We will be happy, Rumpel. Now, do we have a deal?" She gasped as he ran his hand over the curve of her hip and along the swell of her bottom.
"One more thing," he said, his grin positively devilish. "You have to wear these pants for me again."
"Deal."
*.*.*
"What is that noise? Was that your stomach? When's the last time you ate, Rumpelstiltskin?" She asked, pulling her head away from his shoulder. Every time she tried to rise from his lap, his arms tightened around her and wouldn't let her budge an inch. She didn't mind. She was quite content to sit on his lap indefinitely, at least until she'd heard that awful noise.
"I don't remember. Maybe the night before you left?"
"You've been wallowing in self-loathing since I left, haven't you? You destroyed the Great Hall and flopped over onto the sofa like a dead fish," she scolded. "Let me up."
"No."
"Yes. I'm going to go fix us something to eat before that thing growling inside you decides to burst free and devour us," she teased, her eyes widening in mock horror. "You didn't destroy my kitchen, did you?"
"No, dear one. Not at all."
"Come on, Rumpel, let me up. You can go up and take a hot bath while I prepare dinner," she coaxed.
"I don't want to leave you. I'm still finding it hard to believe you're here with me, of your own free will, that you actually want to be with me." He lowered his eyes, not wanting her to see just how vulnerable he was feeling. Reluctantly, he let her climb off his lap to prepare the meal she had her heart set on and stood to do as she'd asked. He took in the mess he'd made in his anger and with a flick of his wrist the Great Hall was restored.
Belle's smile was one of supreme satisfaction as she walked into the kitchen, a fire roaring to life in the hearth as she moved to her work space. Rumpelstiltskin's magic did have its perks. Hurriedly, she chopped some vegetables, tossed them into a pot with some ham she found in the food locker and hung it on a hook over the hearth, adding herbs and spices she knew would please him. She mixed ingredients in a large bowl to make a fresh loaf of bread and set it aside to rise. If she hurried, while the soup bubbled and the bread dough rose, she should have enough time for a bath. Then again, she might just wait till morning to make the bread. The soup she was making was hearty and should properly fill the bottomless pit which was Rumpelstiltskin's stomach.
She stole into the bathing room on the first floor of the castle and gave the command for the tub to fill with hot water as she peeled the leather breeches away from her body and whisked the silk shirt over her head. She sank into the steaming water and leaned back with a sigh. It felt so good to be home, she thought, letting the heat seep into her bones. But she knew she wouldn't have time for a nice soak. If he found her gone, he was sure to come searching for her. Dipping her head back in the steaming water, she lathered her hair and rinsed it, praying she got all the soap out.
Belle rose up out of the tub, and quickly towel-dried her hair, wrapping another towel about her body. It was then she realized she'd made a crucial mistake. She'd neglected to run upstairs for a change of clothes and there was no way she was putting those leather breeches on again. She could get away with this when she'd been rooming down in the dungeon. It would've been an easy enough task to slip down the passageway to her room wearing nothing but a towel without her master's knowledge. Now she would be forced to trek up two flights of stairs and hope he was still in his own bath. Well, it's not like she was naked.
Cracking the door an inch at a time, Belle stuck her head out into the corridor. All was silent as she eased herself out of the bathing chamber. She could see the stairs as she crept silently along the wall, listening for any movement, even the slightest sound which would alert her to his presence. She made a break for the stairs, running full tilt as she crossed the foyer. Her legs screamed as she bolted up the stairs. One more set and she'd be in the corridor leading to her room. God's drawers! She didn't even stop, passing him on the stairs. Rumpelstiltskin stopped dead in his tracks on the fourth step from the top, his eyes widening incredulously as he watched Belle dart up the stairs, running faster than he'd ever seen her move. Wrapped in nothing but a fluffy white towel.
The beast in him roared as desire flooded his veins. He had to brace his hand against the wall to keep himself from running right along after her. He couldn't let the beast out. He couldn't let it hurt her. Damn, but this was going to be difficult. He could see the monster rub its hands together in anticipation and his control slipped a notch. He heard Belle's door slam as she gained the safety of her room.
He could do one of two things. One … he could return to the Great Hall and patiently wait for her as a gentleman should. Or two … he could climb the stairs once more and see if he could talk her out of that towel.
He turned on his heel and began to climb.