CHAPTER TWELVE
Regina cast her glare upon the Dark One as her ruby lips curled up into a sneer. "What could be more important to you than the deal we are discussing?" she asked in irritation, completely vexed he was taking the time to tend to his correspondence.
"I'll be just a moment, dearie. Don't get your corset strings in a knot," he said with a giggle as he sent the letter off in puff of smoke. "Now … you were saying?" He sat back against the ornate chair at her dining table and sipped his tea. His former apprentice had called on him to make a deal for an antique comb … a cursed comb which resided in his vault to keep it out of the hands of one such as Regina. It was entirely too dangerous, but it was always fun to toy with her.
Unfortunately, her focus had shifted. She eyed him speculatively over the rim of her cup and smiled. "You've never had your mail follow you about before. You must be working an extremely important deal. Anything I might help you with?" she asked, her tone sweet as honey.
He raised a dubious brow in her direction. Indeed not! Before he could answer, Belle's reply poofed onto the table near his elbow.
My darling Rumpel,
What do you mean the tone of my letter seems 'off'? How can you tell my tone from a letter?!
Love,
Belle
Regina tapped her ruby lacquered nails against the polished table, her lips pressing into a thin line. He ignored her as he pulled a self-inking quill from the pocket of his dragon hide coat and penned his reply.
Sweetheart,
I think I can tell by now when you don't sound like yourself. Now tell me immediately what is troubling you.
Love,
Rumpel
"Apologies, your majesty," he said, smirking with satisfaction at the tightness about her eyes. She was seconds away from losing her temper.
"I have finally found that abominable girl, and I wish to give her the comb as a gift. I can have my revenge at last and be done with her. Now are you going to give it to me or not? I've already told you I would give you whatever you desire in return," she said petulantly.
"No."
"What do mean 'no'? You've got it stashed away in that moldy old castle of yours collecting dust. Why won't you let me have it?"
He ignored her once again as another letter poofed into existence and he began to read.
Rumpel,
It's nothing to concern yourself over. Papa is just being a beast. He's locked himself in his study … pouting because he knows I've outwitted him and he's not at all happy about it.
Love,
Belle
Sweetheart,
Would you have me talk to him? I don't like that he's causing you undue grief.
Love,
Rumpel
Regina watched him write, her irritation bordering on rage. She slammed her palm down on the table to which he didn't even flinch. "Rumpelstiltskin, if you have more important things to do … your correspondence, for instance … why are you even here?"
The sorcerer sent the letter off with a flick of his wrist and sighed wearily, the queen and her worries becoming tiresome. "Perhaps I was just in the mood for a cup of tea," he said, his nose wrinkling as his giggle trilled through the cavernous dining hall. "You didn't really think I would give you the comb, did you? What if it fell into the wrong hands after you'd done away with the girl?"
"Since when do you care about harming anyone aside from the intended victim? What should it matter?" she asked, incredulous to hear such nonsense from the Dark One.
Rumpelstiltskin frowned, her words hitting home. What did he care if anyone else was hurt? Besides the fact that it was wrong? Oh, gods! My girl is making me soft! If this gets out, my reputation will be shot all to hell and no one will want to deal with me. They'll be thinking they can have the deal actually benefit them instead of me. Shit! This won't do at all.
He scowled at her. A compromise would have to suffice. "Very well, dearie. I'll give you the comb."
Regina flashed him a blinding smile, all feral teeth and gums. "Excellent. And your price?"
She nearly growled as another letter landed on the table.
Darling,
No, I fear it would only make things worse. It will all work out in the end, Rumpel. I just hate that things are so strained between me and papa. He just refuses to listen to reason. I just … nevermind. I will see you on Saturday. I just need you, Rum.
Love,
Belle
"Rumpelstiltskin!" Regina hissed impatiently.
"Your mother's ruby pendant," he replied as if he hadn't just rudely ignored her for the umpteenth time since he'd arrived to answer a letter.
Regina paled. "And how am I supposed to get her pendant? She never takes it off and … she's in Wonderland!"
"If you want the comb, your majesty, you will find a way. Now I must be off." He paused, straightening his coat and offering her another giggle at her outrage.
Her tea cup shattered against the door he disappeared through, but he had better things to do than worry over the queen's displeasure. But the imp in him couldn't resist poking his head back through the door to taunt her one last time before he left. "Temper, temper, dearie. It's bad for the digestion." He strode from the castle, each step taking him closer to what he truly wanted. His Belle was unhappy and that just wouldn't do. With a thought, he was swept through the ether, her essence pulling him to her side.
A shriek and a giggle met his ears when he arrived, his eyes shut tightly and his hand covering them as well just for good measure. The shriek came from Sarah, the giggle from Belle. Recovering from her shock, Sarah rushed forward with a swath of silk and pulled his hand away to cover his eyes with the blindfold.
"Sneaky imp!" she scolded. "What are you even doing here?"
"Lovely to see you, too, dearie," he said, smirking as she pulled the cloth tightly about his eyes.
"Sarah," Belle scolded gently with a patient smile for her friend. "It doesn't matter why he's here." She stepped into his outstretched arms, wrapping her own about his waist.
"Belle …" he murmured against the soft curls at her crown as he embraced her tightly, reveling in the pleasure of having her in his arms once more, her soft curves molding to his lean lines. Four days away from her had seemed like a lifetime. "There were tears on your last letter. And don't you dare brush it off as though it were nothing. I will not have you miserable, dearest."
"Are you hungry? I could have Sarah ring for a light repast and perhaps some tea," Belle said, nuzzling her nose against the side of his neck.
He shivered, but refused to let her dodge the question. "Belle, stop trying to distract me. Tell me why you're so upset. I've killed men for less." Damn! Maybe I shouldn't have said that.
"I've no doubt, darling, but I know you wouldn't harm my papa."
"So certain of that, are you?" he quipped, his brow raising behind the blindfold.
Belle took his arm and led him outside onto the terrace urging him to sit on the cushioned chaise. "You've sworn never to hurt me, Rumpel and killing my papa would definitely hurt me …"
"More's the pity," he mumbled under his breath.
"… so yes, I'm certain," she said airily, ignoring his snide remark and settling onto the chaise to curl up at his side, pulling his arm about her waist and laying her head against his shoulder.
Sarah came outside and brought her embroidery with her, choosing to sit on a comfortable bench in the shade a discreet distance away to chaperone them. She'd made certain to lock the door to Belle's private chambers to keep any of the servants from happening upon them.
"I was worried," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple as he relaxed back against the chaise. He would have been content to spend every moment until their wedding sitting there with her nestled so perfectly against his side, her hand resting on his chest over his heart.
Belle lifted her hand and stroked his cheek, encouraged when he leaned into her touch. "I didn't mean to worry you, love, but if it brought you to my side, I can't say I'm sorry." She brushed her lips to the corner of his jaw and smiled. "I've missed you."
He tucked her head beneath his chin and sighed. "I really shouldn't have come as it's not one of our designated meeting days, but the thought of you so distressed … what are you doing to me, Belle?"
"Rumpel, don't you know I couldn't care less if it was one of those days? I want to spend more time with you and will always welcome you whenever you decide to come here." Her fingers toyed with the laces on his silk poet shirt distractedly as she whispered, "And I could ask the same question of you. I've always felt as though a part of me was missing, that I needed something in my life and feared I'd never find. That feeling left me anxious and apprehensive but … oh, I don't know how to explain it."
His voice was tinged with awe as he murmured against her hair, "And now you feel whole?"
"Yes. When I'm with you I feel that way, but when you leave again…"
"…You feel empty."
"Exactly." She sighed, breathless, boneless as he tipped her chin up and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. She'd never before experienced anything like the coiled knot of pleasure which settled low in her belly when he touched her, and it left her wanting more. He'd been so careful in his affections for her so far, and she yearned for the day when he could give his passions free reign. She recognized her feelings for what they were, desire and love, and she wanted to explore more with him, but he pulled away as she pressed closer.
"I feel the same, my darling Belle," he said softly, kissing the tip of her nose.
Belle nibbled thoughtfully at her lower lip, so many questions longing to loose themselves from her tongue, questions which had been plaguing her for quite some time. "Rumpel, can I ask you something?"
"You can ask me anything," he responded almost immediately. He would try to answer her questions to the best of his ability. He found he didn't want to be deceptive, as was his nature … not with her. With Belle he felt the desire to unburden his soul, to be honest and forthcoming as she had always been with him. He was tired of hiding, tired of the loneliness which enveloped every facet of his life and tired of being looked on with fear and disgust. He needed her love to free him.
"What made you choose me?" she asked guardedly, needing to know his true motivations, yet afraid of the answer. "I know of your foresight … one of the few things I've been able to discover about you on my own. Did you see our future? Did you know then you would love me?"
The fingers of his free hand, the one not currently wrapped possessively about his betrothed's waist, tapped idly against the arm of the chaise, not sure how to answer her. "No, sweetheart, I didn't see our future. For some reason, whenever I try to look beyond, I can't see us. It's as if something is blocking my sight I can't explain."
She peeked up at him from beneath her lashes, wishing she could look into his eyes. "Then how did you know?"
"A year before you were born, Winter came to me and told me of a child. She said this child would bring light into my soul to chase away the darkness. She would help me find the humanity I had lost over the centuries and bring happiness and balance into my life. She would help me find my heart's desire … my son," he revealed, his voice just above a whisper so his words wouldn't carry over to Sarah. "Winter said you were special, that only you would be able to see into the heart of the Dark One, that only you would find the good in me and love me with your whole heart."
"Winter, the enchantress?" she asked, feeling a slight shiver run through her. "My father went to her for help in breaking the contract you have with him and she turned him away. She told him to leave things as they are, that he wasn't to mess with fate."
"I've no doubt she did, sweetheart. She believes we are meant for one another, and one cannot be happy without the other." His teeth gnashed together, and his lip curled back in a snarl at the thought of the king trying to take his Belle away from him, to free her from the fulfillment of the contract. His hand tightened involuntarily against her silk covered hip.
"And she believes I can help you find Bae?" she asked. She remembered the letter containing the story of his son and how he had lost him. She'd insisted on the tale and then regretted not letting him tell her in person. By the tone of his letter, he'd suffered greatly as he'd shared the tale with her and she'd had no way to comfort him.
"Yes. It was my true motivation for making the deal with your father." His arms tightened about her and he pressed his brow to hers, hoping desperately that she would understand. "I didn't know, Belle. I didn't know I would fall in love with you, that you would tear down every wall I'd ever constructed to keep myself from getting hurt again. And I never dreamed I'd have your love in return. Winter has been known to be wrong a time or two and I never dared hope …"
Her lips silenced him as she drew his lower lip between her own, kissing him tenderly. "I do love you, my Rumpel. You're mine now and I'll not let anything come between us … especially not my father. You will be my husband and when we find Baelfire, we'll be a family."
His heart warmed at her reassurances and made him believe it really could be as simple as she'd stated. She was his as he was hers. He'd never thought to allow himself to belong to another woman after his disastrous first marriage, but he found it was easier to give himself to this little princess than he'd ever thought possible.
"Now, would you like to tell me what had you so distressed this morning?" he asked, trying to avoid the distraction of her questing lips.
Belle sighed wearily and shook her head. "Papa is taking every opportunity to tell me of all your nefarious deeds. He thinks by telling me of all your deals and vile acts you've committed in the past, it will somehow change what I feel in my heart. I can't say I approve of most of the things you've done in your past, Rumpel, but I understand you were only trying to find a way to Bae. Papa doesn't have the luxury of that knowledge."
His fingers toyed nervously with the end of her braid. "I'm trying to do better, dear one, for you, to be worthy of your love."
"You are worthy of me, Rumpel. You're only human, capable of human mistakes. The fact you're willing to change is admirable, but I do not ask it of you. I fell in love with you as you are, even the darkest parts of you and I am proud to call you mine," she whispered reverently, hoping to make him see how much she loved him.
And how could he not kiss her after such a bold statement, his lips claiming hers. There was nothing chaste and innocent about this kiss, his tongue sweeping over her bottom lip and along the seam, begging for entry into the honeyed recesses of her mouth as his arms crushed her to him. Belle gasped in surprise as his tongue touched hers for the first time, her shock quickly dissipating as fire flooded her veins, making her boneless and weak with desire for him. She melted into him, her hands delving into the hair at his nape and tugging gently. He whimpered softly as her nails scraped along his scalp, pulling him closer … as if that were even possible … and she swallowed it down with no small amount of pride that she'd caused him to make that sound.
"AHEM!" Sarah loudly cleared her throat. "That will be quite enough of that, Imp," she scolded.
Rumpelstiltskin broke the kiss and was surprised to find himself with heated cheeks. He turned his head in the direction of Sarah's voice, a smirk curving up the left side of his mouth. "Apologies, dearie," he said, giggling at the discomfort which must surely be coloring her own cheeks.
Belle laughed softly, hiding her blush against the side of his neck. "Leave it go, Sarah. When he comes courting Saturday, I'll be lucky if he's allowed within two feet of me. There will be no stolen kisses and sweet words," she grumbled sadly. She ran her fingertip along his smooth jaw. "He will have to be a perfect gentleman instead of my sweet imp," she purred.
Rumpelstiltskin groaned.
*.*.*
Three days later…
At precisely noon, Rumpelstiltskin appeared at the east gate before a waiting Sarah. She stood there with her hands on her rounded hips, tapping her foot impatiently against the cobblestones. Her face was flushed, and her full lips were drawn into a thin line. He took in her flashing hazel eyes and groaned inwardly. "You don't look happy, minx," he said, dryly stating the obvious.
"You wouldn't be happy either, Imp, if you'd had to listen to Belle quarrel with her father for most of the morning. And King George and his pompous son visiting isn't helping matters in the least. But I suppose it was too much to hope old Georgie could distract the king for long," she said, moving forward to tie the blindfold over the sorcerer's eyes.
He frowned, deep lines appearing in his brow. "What, may I ask is George doing here?"
"Nothing of import, I assure you. They are just passing through on their way to King Midas' court. And I do not care for Prince James in the slightest. He might be lauded and celebrated as a great and noble knight, but in my opinion he's no more than a handsy, swaggering jackass," she seethed.
He winced as she knotted the silk and simultaneously pulled his hair. Vicious little harpy! He didn't like the thought of his Belle being anywhere near the odious prince and he couldn't help feeling thankful he had Sarah to help watch over her when he couldn't be there for her. He resented the blindfold however. He wouldn't be able to read the emotions the royals so flagrantly displayed on their faces and it was going to be a deterrent to his dealings with them. He never should have allowed Belle to talk him into this.
"Has James made any advances towards my girl?" he asked, wanting to kick himself for revealing the roiling emotions churning in his gut. Really, Rumpelstiltskin, of all the questions you could have asked the silly girl, this is what you choose? He pushed the Dark One to the far recesses of his mind and ignored the catty remark.
Sarah huffed a short laugh, her tone gentling. "Don't worry about Belle, imp. She has made it abundantly clear to him that she is taken."
"I don't like feeling as though I'm at a disadvantage," he said irritably gesturing to the silk covering his eyes. "It's fine when I'm with you or Belle, but her father … he's a different story. I feel as though I'm being led to the gallows tree."
Sarah took his hand and patted it reassuringly as she led him down the garden path to the door which would lead them into the salon where they were to take tea with Belle and her father. "Don't fret, Imp. It will just be the four of us. You won't be paraded before the court, and Belle has arranged a hunt to keep the visiting royals from interfering."
Before he could draw air into his starving lungs, he heard raised voices coming from the interior of the castle. "I can't believe I agreed to this!"
"You didn't have to agree, Papa," Belle said wearily, having had this conversation at least three times with him since breakfast. "Rumpel is my betrothed and there is nothing in the contract saying I can't take tea with him."
"I don't want that imp in my home!"
"It's my home too, Papa."
Maurice paced the Aubusson carpet before the hearth, his face red and his chest heaving in his rage. "It was bad enough when you began writing to that … that …"
"… man," Belle provided.
"Beast! He's a beast, Belle, no matter how many fancy words you use to try to dress it up in a pretty package," he blustered.
Belle's lips twitched as she arched a brow at him. Since when was 'man' a fancy word? "You're just upset because I was clever enough to discover a way around your edict. Now, please calm yourself before I have to call in your physician."
"I am not upset! I'm bloody well furious! And you are not calling in that crackpot again to ply me with his vile potions," he railed, his voice rising.
"You're making a spectacle of yourself, Papa. Won't you at least sit down and try to pull yourself together before Rumpel arrives. You are a king, for the sake of the gods! Why don't you try acting like one," she hissed, losing her temper.
Sarah cleared her throat from the open doorway and fought the smile threatening at her lips. She'd already warned Rumpelstiltskin he should act as though he were meeting Belle for the first time. It wouldn't do well to see their usual familiarity come to play before the king. She could see Belle's eyes drink in the sight of him, her cheeks warming. Surely it was taking a concerted effort for Belle not to rush forward and throw her arms about the imp's neck.
The sorcerer's ears pricked up, listening and trying to differentiate the myriad sounds in the room. He could hear the king standing off to his left near the crackling flames of the hearth, trying to control his anger, the sound of his labored breathing a dead giveaway. He heard the swish of Belle's skirts and couldn't help but wonder what color she wore; would it compliment her lovely cerulean eyes and lush rose-tinted mouth?
"Milady," Sarah intoned in a clear voice, taking her hand and joining it with Rumpelstiltskin's. "May I introduce you to your betrothed, Rumpelstiltskin."
Belle dipped into a curtsy and smiled, one he couldn't regretfully see, she realized. Sarah nudged him in the arm and whispered, "Bow, Imp," next to his ear.
He graced Belle with his usual flourishing bow, but the impish giggle and trill of rolling r's as he introduced himself were mysteriously absent. She realized he must be as nervous as she was in the presence of her father. His lips were smiling as he pressed a lingering kiss to the back of her hand. "My darling love," he breathed against her skin.
"That's enough of that. Stop drooling all over my daughter and have a seat," the king snarled. He was further disquieted when Belle twined her fingers with the imp's and led him over to the settee to sit down next to him. He chose a comfortable leather chair, so he would be facing them, the coffee table between them and Sarah sat in a chair to Belle's left. The little peasant girl who he'd elevated to her present station looked as though she were ready to jump to Belle's rescue at any moment, and the sight brought him a small measure of comfort.
His eyes narrowed on his daughter as she prepared a cup of tea for her betrothed, adding a wedge of lemon and two sugar cubes before taking his hand and wrapping his fingers around the delicate china cup. "Thank you, dearest," the imp said, his tone dripping with sincerity. Maurice scowled.
Belle completely ignored the tension in the room and set out to make her betrothed as comfortable as possible. "And was the business you had to attend to this morning satisfactory?" she asked, her voice steady and clear, referring to the deal he'd been called for that morning. "Duke Smithfield called upon you, did he not?"
"He did. He was concerned with the land in the southern corner of his kingdom not being as fertile as it should. That land provides a good deal of wheat for his kingdom," the Dark One answered, wondering what Belle could possibly hope to achieve with such information. Not for the first time did he wish he could gaze into her lovely eyes and glean what she was thinking.
"I suppose you granted his request to make the soil a bit more fertile?"
"Indeed," he said, setting his cup in its saucer on his lap to keep himself from fidgeting.
"And what did you get in trade, Rumpel?" she asked, her voice nearly a purr. "His kingdom is rather wealthy, but I know you don't need his baubles. What did you ask for?"
He swallowed nervously, feeling the king's narrowed gaze upon him. "I asked for a bolt of his finest white silk and a skein of ivory lace to be made into your wedding gown, dear heart," he said, relaxing for the first time since he'd arrived. He could practically hear the king grinding his teeth in vexation and it made him clamp his lips together to keep from giggling.
Belle leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "Thank you, Rumpel. That was most thoughtful of you," she said. And then it clicked with him. She was trying to show her father he wasn't the heartless Dark One, but her kind, loving and thoughtful fiancée.
"And how many babies have you snatched from their desperate parents this week?" the king asked in a snarky tone.
Belle gasped.
Sarah glared.
Rumpelstiltskin smirked. "Just a fair few, sire."
Belle burst out into nervous giggles, knowing that Rumpelstiltskin was merely bating her father. "Rumpel, don't tease. The last baby you dealt for went to that barren couple in the Hebrides who could care and love it as its poor mother couldn't."
She stuffed a finger sandwich between his parted lips, hoping it would keep another quip from slipping from between his teeth. Imp!
She hadn't realized her father's face could flush that particular shade of purple. "This is never going to work, Belle," the king growled.
"Why don't we all go for a stroll in the garden?" Sarah suggested, hastily rising to her feet before a quarrel could begin.
"That's an excellent idea, Sarah," Belle agreed.
Maurice grumbled under his breath.
Rumpelstiltskin rose to his feet and offered his arm to his Belle. "Shall we?" he asked as she placed her small hand in the crook of his elbow.
Sarah blocked the king's path, reaching down to adjust her skirt before following the pair out the door and leaving him to trail behind. She would not let that man sabotage her friend's happiness and was prepared to derail his best efforts in his endeavors. Belle and her betrothed were happy together. Why couldn't her father see that and give his blessing?
A/n: Can't wait to hear your thoughts … please leave some. Thanks so much for reading!
