A/N: To clear up any misconceptions, Baelfire is ten years old. Yes, his actions and things that he has said might be a bit immature at times, but he is also a product of poverty. Baelfire is uneducated, and has been running from being trained in the Ogre wars. Also, he has PSTD from running from Maleficent the dragon, and it is no great shock that a child who has never had a childhood or a proper education is reverting from time to time. It's psychology. Anyways, here is the chapter you have been waiting for! And a little humorous part at the end. I hope you enjoy!

21. Baelfire's Story Continues

The young boy cleared his throat, and reminded me of where he had left off. "Remember, the beautiful princess' roses were spared by Jack Frost, and she had promised him that every winter she would go to her garden to see him."

I nodded, urging him to continue. "Well, a year had passed from that fateful day," said Baelfire as his father stroked his son's curly hair. "And Jack Frost came back to the garden. Slowly, he began to overtake the once thriving and beautiful flowers and blossoms in the garden with his icy cold, uncaring touch. He kept to his word that he would not kill the princess' roses; although he was a fiend, he was not an animal. He stuck to his deals no matter what."

"Is that it?" asked Rumplestilzkin curiously.

"Papa, you always interrupt!" groaned Baelfire. "And no, that's not it. Anyways, just when the frost god thought that his princess would not appear, she did. The beauty entered her dying garden in a black cloak with a brilliant red rose in her curly dark hair. It took the cold out of the frost man's soul, replacing it with warmth that he hadn't felt since she had kissed him exactly a year ago."

"She smiled back at him, and he bowed gracefully. 'Your highness,' said the frost imp. 'As is promised, I have spared your roses from my caustic touch.' "

" 'I thank you dearly,' replied the princess, acknowledging his end of the bargain with a small head nod of appreciation."

" 'If it isn't too much trouble,' began Frost. 'May I inquire your name, princess?' "

" 'You may call me Princess Rose,' smiled Rose as she slowly advanced towards the master of winter. She looked into his eyes and said three words he had never before heard in his life. 'I've missed you.' "

" 'I am not one to be missed, Princess Rose,' Jack Frost replied sadly. 'For in my wake, there is only destruction and death… How could one miss something like that?' "

"The beautiful Rose blushed, lowering her gaze to the ground. 'It has been a long time, Jack Frost, and I have waited for you… It is true what they say; absence does make the heart grow fonder.' "

" 'You do not know me,' said the frost bringer softly. 'I am not one to be thought of lightly. I am only a monster, a thing to be hated.' "

" 'How could one hate someone who can create such beauty?' asked Rose. She led him over to the frost covered ivy. 'This is absolutely breath taking. To think in a few days or weeks, my castle will be covered with a blanket of beautiful snow!' "

"Jack Frost looked at her incredulously. 'You say I create beauty when a year ago I was about to destroy it.' "

" 'But you didn't,' said the princess of the roses. 'Why? What stopped you?' "

" 'Your kiss,' sighed the snow bearer as he gently pulled her lips to his. 'It is an impossibility, you and I. I cannot lead you on like this. I am the death bringer, and you are the light bearer. This will never work. I am cursed.' "

" 'We will find our way,' whispered Rose as she wrapped her arms around the cold imp. 'Love always finds a way…' "

"And every winter, Princess Rose goes to the garden in anticipation of seeing her beloved, and each time, he whisks her away to his kingdom until spring arrives, and he must leave her."

"That was beautiful Bae!" I cried as I clapped my hands with glee. "Really, you are quite a storyteller! How old are you?"

"Ten," said the boy as he yawned and curled up in his bed, ready to fall asleep.

"Good night," I said as I kissed his forehead softly.

"Night, Belle," he replied. "Night, papa."

"Good night, my son," said Rumplestilzkin as we quietly left the room. Once the door closed, he turned to look at me with a suggestive look on his face.

"Oh no," I said, laughing slightly. "Not going to have to explain awkwardly why you and I were making strange sounds again. No, no, not happening."

"Come on, the boy's asleep!" groaned Rumplestilzkin quietly. "Please?"

"No!" I whispered as we walked to my bedchambers. We entered the room, and the door closed and locked behind us. Rumplestilzkin brushed my hair away from my neck, and began to tenderly kiss it. A soft moan escaped my lips, and I knew I was fighting a losing battle. "Oh yes, yes, yes, yes, yes…"

"Thought you'd see it my way," smirked Rumplestilzkin.