A/N: Hello, readers! This is mostly a nice filler chapter, but I hope you'll still enjoy it. If it's any consideration, it's also a long filler chapter.
Chapter Twenty-Six
"So, how shall we do this?"
Rumpelstiltskin stood on one side of the king-sized bed. He stared down at it as if he were scrutinizing a particularly complex game of chess. Belle had asked him to stay with her tonight—she just never expected him to be so hesitant.
"We could…lie down," she suggested with a silvery laugh.
She rather enjoyed watching Rumpelstiltskin, the infamous dealmaker, mull over such a simple tender task as sharing a bed. It reminded her how human he truly was, a man able to be perplexed.
Belle figured she'd present an example and slid under the covers on the side closest to the window. Still, he did not follow her lead, even when she patted the spot beside her as a hint. Already dressed in his expensive black pajamas, he glanced at the door uncertainly.
"Belle, we don't have to…if you wish, I'm perfectly capable of sleeping on the couch," he insisted. Belle drew her knees up to her chest and leveled her wide blue eyes at him. Instantly, his face seemed to soften.
"You may be," she agreed. "But that's not what I wish." Belle smoothed her palm along the crisp sheets, all the while never taking her eyes from him. Doubt clouded his face. "Besides, the couch will do your leg no good."
"My leg can survive one night on the couch for you," he reasoned. It made her stomach flutter to know that he would so willingly endure such discomfort in her name. After all, he'd been suffering for the past twenty-eight years.
He started to turn away toward the door. Belle immediately crawled across the top of the bed to catch his hand. He gazed at her in wonder.
"Please," she pleaded, tugging a little on his sleeve. He tried to pull his arm away, but she held on fast. "Come here," she demanded a little more firmly.
The anxiety on his face claimed he was debating whether to insist on the couch or give in to her want. His hand absent-mindedly traveled to his leg, his mind envisioning the ache that would result from even an hour on that couch. Inevitably, his desire of her satisfaction won out.
Groaning, he lowered his body onto the bed.
"Just a warning, dearie. I tend to hog the blanket." Belle scooted over so he could settle under the covers. At the moment, they both lay on their backs, gazing up at the cabin's expansive ceiling. Underneath the sheets, the warmth of his body tempted her to draw closer.
"That's alright. I don't mind sharing," she replied with a genuine smile.
The peaceful sounds of the woods flowed in through the window. The rustle of the trees, the whisper of the wind, the occasional scratching of some night-time creature wandering. It lulled her into a serene state on the verge of sleep. Belle rolled onto her side to face the window and she could just catch a glimpse of the star-studded sky.
It was too quiet between them. Belle curled her arm around her pillow and buried her face in its soft, marshmallow-white form, seeking sleep. She was inches away, teetering on the very precipice, but failing to fall into that open abyss.
She knew he was wide awake, perhaps afraid to shift even an inch in case he bothered her. Silly man.
Belle checked over her shoulder and—sure enough—his brown eyes were trained on the ceiling, lost in thought. Was he afraid to draw closer to her? Afraid to touch her or find comfort in her presence? But why? Did he really fear that he would hurt her so much?
Determined to prove him wrong, Belle grasped his hand and guided it to her hip. A jolt of surprise riveted through his body as his fingers made contact with the warmth of her skin emanating through her nightgown. His hand began to tremble and she held onto it in case he decided to move from such close proximity.
"Belle, I—" She squeezed his hand.
"Relax. You won't hurt me. I promise," she said as she slowly released his hand. Unexpectedly, he kept it there, resting on her hip. Closing her eyes, she waited to see what he would do.
Ever so gently, almost experimentally, his hand slid across her hip and down to her belly. His arm wrapped around her waist, though she could tell he was holding back from what he truly wanted to do. His muscles stiffened, as if realizing he made a fatal mistake.
"Belle…is this okay?" She imagined the torrent of distress marring his handsome features. Glancing over at him, she found she was right. She smiled to ease his mind.
"No," she answered softly. Immediately, he began to unfurl his arm from her belly, but she insistently held it there. "It's perfect," she admitted.
The anxiety escaped his tired face and he carefully readjusted his arm around her body. The mattress groaned as he dared to cuddle with her, his body fitting flawlessly against hers. Perfect in every way.
Lightly, his lips found her cheek and he chastely kissed her skin. It sent a tingling sensation along every one of Belle's nerves. She tilted her head back onto his chest and sighed with bliss.
"I do love you," he whispered into her ear. Belle met his rich brown eyes and suddenly noticed how deeply beautiful they were compared to the unnatural golden orbs they had been so long ago. Her fingers brushed the hair back from his face, a delicate caress.
"Yes…and I love you, too," she whispered back.
Relief draped over him as he bent his head to offer her a real kiss. His lips met hers and Belle did not know any better feeling in the world. It was a soft, modest kiss—the kind that did not demand more, but left her smiling all the same. True love's kiss.
"Goodnight, Rumpelstiltskin." He placed a kiss on the crown of her head, burying his lips in her dark hair.
"Goodnight, Belle. My love." And she fell asleep in the security of his embrace.
….
The streams of early morning sunlight stirred Belle from a dreamless sleep. It glowed a pale golden, drifting across the covers in warm slats. The roses on the windowsill—the ones Jefferson had not plucked—seemed to bloom in greeting for her.
Stretching leisurely, Belle rolled over in search of an inviting pair of brown eyes…but the spot beside her was vacant. She hadn't even noticed him leave.
The covers were tossed back, the pillow still indented from the weight of his head. He'd only awoken recently, then. She began to wonder where he'd gone when her eyes caught a thin slip of paper on the mattress. A note, written in his elegantly scrawling hand.
My dearest Belle,
I hope I haven't disturbed you from your sleep. I thought it'd be best to let you rest. Come to the kitchen when you're ready. I have something to show you.
-R
Belle re-read the note, the sound of his voice linked with the words in her mind. She threw the note down on the bedside table and was already halfway to the bedroom door when she remembered she was still clad in her nightgown. Quickly, she changed into a breezy blue sundress that Rumpelstiltskin had left for her in the corner.
As she tied the silk sash in back, she secretly wished he would not go out of his way for such fine materials. It was to please her, she knew, but it was unnecessary. The only object of her affection was him. Everything else—his reputation, his appearance, his money—did not matter to her.
He was fixing breakfast in the small kitchen that branched off the living room. For a moment, she remained near the doorframe and watched him as he effortlessly handled the frying pan. It smelled good, the mouth-watering aroma teasing her nose.
"That mirror in the bathroom needs replacing," he said without turning around. Belle entered the kitchen and took a seat at the mahogany table. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and her stomach grumbled.
"Emma broke it trying to escape," Belle replied. She'd forgotten about the whole fiasco until now. She hoped he hadn't stepped on any glass—there was no magic in this world to fix a wound. Only doctors and a drug called morphine.
"She's lucky I'm capable of shaving without a mirror. I have half a mind to charge her for the expenses," he warned. Belle did not bite the line he was trying to cast; it'd be better if he left Emma to her own worries. "Amazing how much our roles have been reversed. I remember a time when you were the one serving me breakfast."
Belle laughed to herself—she remembered that, too. The first time she'd cooked for him, she'd been so nervous that he'd think she was horrible at it. Looking back, she realized he'd have eaten it regardless even if his pride verbally claimed otherwise.
"Yes, but I'll bet you're a much better cook than I am," she said as he took two plates from an upper cupboard. He gave her a dubious look over his shoulder as he scraped the food from the frying pan.
"Mixing potions and designing curses is much different than fixing scrambled eggs." Belle accepted the plate of food from him, but did not make a move to eat. She would wait politely for him.
"What is it you wanted to show me?" Was it his cooking skills? Though, she already knew that since he'd cooked for her after offering her hospitality as Isabella. Or was it the apron he was wearing over his suit?
"Eager, are we?" A warm blush rose to her cheeks at her over-excitement. It would be impossible to guess what he had in store for her, knowing his ambiguity. "Unfortunately, your surprise exists elsewhere."
Belle tilted her head curiously while he occupied the seat across from her. The food on her plate was all but forgotten. The excitement was charging up again, the need to know excruciating. Setting her elbows on the table, she animatedly leaned forward.
"You mean it's not here in the cabin?" Belle studied the interior of the cabin as though she could find the surprise and call his bluff. But nothing in the cabin had changed since last night; even the ashes still coated the grate of the fireplace.
"Afraid not, dearie," he lilted as his mouth closed over a forkful of egg. Belle opened her mouth to launch a slew of questions, but he held up a hand. "Your food is getting cold."
Taking the hint, she dug into her food as politely as possible. She even draped her napkin over her lap before bringing the fork to her lips. Instantly, she moaned with delight around the mouthful of breakfast. Rumpelstiltskin chuckled from across the table.
"It's official. You are a much better cook than I am. This is loads better than last time, even," she complimented him. She wondered what his secret was—and then figured he most likely would not tell her. Rumpelstiltskin didn't seem to see the attraction as he took small bites.
"I've had nothing but time on my hands in the Enchanted Forest. I figured it'd be best to have a hobby other than spinning." Belle quickly forgot etiquette and chowed the breakfast down until her stomach was full.
Dabbing at his lips with a napkin, Rumpelstiltskin rose from his chair and retrieved his cane. Belle watched him as he approached her side and held out a hand.
"Are you ready for that surprise?"
…
Belle smoothed her hands over her bare arms as she walked alongside Rumpelstiltskin. The woods were beautiful, especially with the streak of sunlight shining through the trees. But there was a light breeze that sent gooseflesh crawling along her skin.
She wished she'd thought to wear a shawl or a cardigan. Rumpelstiltskin had neglected to buy one for her because he claimed it'd be "too Mary Margaret." Belle didn't know who that could be, but she shivered.
"Are you cold?" Rumpelstiltskin had noticed her shiver—of course he had. Belle waved it off.
"I'll be alright. I've become so used to that stuffy cabin; the breeze just took me by surprise," she explained. Rumpelstiltskin looked ready to protest or perhaps offer her his jacket like young people in love often do, but he only nodded. "Should we be walking this far? Your leg—"
Rumpelstiltskin stopped and she bumped into his shoulder.
"Would you catch me if I fell? Return the favor?" In her mind's eye, she recalled the way he caught her in his arms after falling off a ladder. The memory brought a warm sensation.
"Yes, of course," she answered. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the head of his cane. It must have been a strain for him to drag a lame leg around and not have the power to whisk it away. To her, it did not make him any less desirable.
"Then there is no reason to worry."
Swiftly he carried on, leading the way deeper into the woods. Belle hoped he didn't lose his footing on the twisted roots that intruded their path. She wondered how far their destination was. "It's not far now."
The man could have been a mind-reader. Or did he simply know her that well? Belle typically learned something new about him every day. Soundlessly, they traversed.
Belle liked to think of herself as a decent traveling companion. Never did she complain about the distance or ask the grating question Are we there yet? Never did she protest that her legs were growing tired or sing ridiculous tunes to break the moments of silence. She basked in his silent comfort and followed wherever he went.
At last, the path changed and they started uphill. It wasn't very steep, yet their breathing became hitched with the effort of climbing. Belle placed a reassuring hand on his back, in case he needed stability.
And then she slowed as her ears caught a peculiar sound through the trees.
"Is that…water?" Yes, there it was. The sound of rushing water somewhere nearby. It had something to do with her surprise; she instinctively knew it. A knot clenched in her stomach.
"Quite the clever woman," Rumpelstiltskin commented as he continued along the inclined path. Belle tilted her head and listened to the soothing sound of a stream. Or was it a full-bodied river? She could only think of one in Storybrooke.
"Are we heading to the Toll Bridge?" She remembered it—the place where she'd met Ruby the night of her escape from the hospital. It had been dark, but she could still recall the beauty of it, with the full moon hanging above.
Rumpelstiltskin reached the height of the hill and looked down upon her. The glaring sun cast shadows over his face, making it difficult to see his expression. She thought he might be smirking.
"Not quite," he told her, beckoning for her to join him.
Belle rushed up the hill, the grass and sod slipping under her shoes. Nearly there, her ankle snagged on a twisted root and she went toppling in open air. Rumpelstiltskin darted forward and caught her in his arms before she could do a massive face-plant on the ground.
That was close, she thought. Her heart thudded painfully as she gazed up at him, his arms folding like wings around her body.
"I suppose you'll have to return the favor twice now," he murmured with a ghost of a smile. Belle regained her footing, leaning against his chest for support. She gave a light nod to him. You see? When it comes down to it, you're really not that bad, Rumpelstiltskin. That's the second time you've caught me.
Linking her arm with his, she walked with him through the thick foliage of trees.
And she gasped.
It was the most breath-taking sight she'd ever laid eyes on. A crystal-clear pool of water only a few feet away, the surface glistening like diamonds as the sun struck down over it. A waterfall poured from a rocky wall, mist clouding the air as the pool stretched into a river that curved through the woods. Flowers surrounded the water's edge in various shades of red, white, and blue.
"Surprise," Rumpelstiltskin breathed into her ear. Belle was almost certain her mouth was rudely hanging open in awe. "It leads to the Toll Bridge. Very few know of this place. Consider it my way of making up for yesterday's dilemma."
Gaston and their tense conversation were the farthest things from her mind.
"It's lovely," she exclaimed in wonder. She regretted leaving her book at the cabin; it would be so nice to read while dangling her feet in the refreshing water. This place brimmed with beauty and magic—it felt like a forgotten piece of home.
Rumpelstiltskin ran a hand down her back.
"I'm glad you approve. Now…shall we make the best of it?"
Belle wasn't entirely sure what he meant until he leaned his cane against a shaded tree and peeled off his jacket. At first she blushed at his sudden incentive, thinking he wanted to…because of last night…but, no. She realized he was planning on a simple swim.
Rumpelstiltskin removed his shirt and folded it up, leaving it in a square at the base of the tree. He hesitated on shedding any clothing below his waist. Belle thought he might be shy, though she had seen every inch of him before. Then he offered her a concerned look and she understood that he was worried about her own embarrassment.
"If you're not comfortable…I can just—" Belle strode straight up to him and smoothed her hands along his bare chest. His words ceased immediately.
"I've seen worse," she said as she admired him. "Stop worrying about how I'll look at you. I already love you." The corners of his lips lifted ever so slightly before he proceeded to strip down to his boxers.
Gradually, he waded into the water, wincing whenever the cold water was unbearably icy. The water submersed his ankles, his legs; every part of his skin until he was drifting waist-deep. His muscles rolled as he relied on his arms to keep him afloat, but there was a blissful smile on his lips.
He looked almost…happy.
"Are you coming to join me are you going to make me come get you?" A devilish gleam danced in his eyes as he hooked a finger and requested her presence. Belle's excitement drained as she eyed the water nervously. She took a step back.
"I'm not sure it's a good idea," she said, crossing her arms securely over her chest. She savored the feel of dry clothing rubbing against her skin. Rumpelstiltskin's brow furrowed with confusion.
"Are you afraid of me?" Belle rolled her eyes. That was hardly the reason. Far from it, actually.
"Of course not," she retorted. He frowned thoughtfully.
"Is it…that time of the month?" Belle averted her gaze to the ground.
"No. Not for another week," she quietly admitted. He stroked his hands through the water impatiently. He was seriously puzzled now.
"Then what other reason could you have for not taking a swim with me?" Okay, now she was embarrassed. It was mainly due to her unwanted show of cowardice. Everyone was afraid of something, weren't they?
The surprise wasn't much of a surprise if she couldn't enjoy it the way he expected. She knew her anxiety was ridiculous—almost childish, even. Honestly, she'd be willing to try anything once, but…
"Belle?"
"I can't swim," she blurted out. Heat coursed up her neck as she remained rooted to the spot under his bemused scrutiny. "My father never taught me and I've been locked up for the past twenty-eight years in this town. I don't know if Isabella could swim, but I can't."
"In other words, you're afraid you'll drown?" He was much too gleeful over this prospect. Did he think she was making a quip? All the while, her heart hammered in her chest as she pictured herself slipping under the surface of the water.
"Yes, I'd say that's one of my main concerns."
A laugh escaped his throat. It died away when he noticed she was dead serious. Belle had simply never been swimming before, especially after her mother's death when books became her source of time and happiness.
"Belle, I'm a cripple and I'm swimming just fine," he told her, though she could see how much energy it cost him. Stubborn to no end, he feigned relaxation and spread his arms in the water. Tilting his head back, he soaked his hair.
Belle never moved an inch.
"You've also had centuries to practice," she reasoned. It didn't help that there were few to no books explaining the process of swimming—for most, it was common knowledge. Rumpelstiltskin was gaping at her. Had she done something odd?
"Are you insinuating that I've grown old, dearie?" Belle laughed despite her anxiety. Most of the time, she forgot she was spending time with someone as ageless as him. What was he…four hundred years old? Or was it three hundred?
"The fact still remains: I can't swim." Rumpelstiltskin paddled over to the edge of the water and tilted his head at her—an invitation.
"Come here," he asked, making a small wave with his hand. Belle slowly edged toward the water and stopped an inch from it. "Now take off that little dress of yours." Belle fingered the strap on her shoulder and couldn't help the smile.
"Eager, are we?" He smirked at her as she slid off the blue sundress, letting it pile on the ground. All that was left was her undergarments. Reluctantly, she dipped one foot in the water and hopped back. "This water is freezing!"
Rumpelstiltskin shrugged, but he seemed amused by her reaction.
"This is Maine, dearie. What did you expect? Palm trees and dolphins?" He motioned for her to try it again. Belle fought against the cold tide and went as far as ankle-deep. Rumpelstiltskin held out a hand to her. "Do you trust me?"
She didn't need to think twice about it.
"Yes." She laid her hand in his and he guided her down into his arms.
Daggers of cold chills attacked her skin as the water swirled around her. Her legs pumped to find some solid surface, but there was none. Belle clung to him as they drifted into the middle of the pool.
"Shh. I've got you," he murmured as her arms encircled his neck. His hands caught her hips and he held her close. "You don't fret when you take a bath, do you?"
Belle was momentarily distracted from the water, as he'd meant for her to be. She was like a child, seeking security from him. The fact that she was convinced he could offer it was miraculous in itself.
"That's different. I can feel the bottom then," she said. Her legs frantically kicked, but the bottom of the pool was beyond her reach without submersing her head. It made her cling to him even more fiercely, her head burrowing into his shoulder.
"Be brave. I would never let you fall," he reminded her. Slowly, Belle relaxed in his arms, her face glowing with a surge of confidence. She'd always wanted the chance to be brave. What was braver than conquering your fear?
Cautiously, she loosened her hold around his neck until she was lightly hanging on. They drifted near the roaring waterfall. Mimicking him, Belle dipped her head back and sighed as the water swirled around her hair. It felt…good.
"There's my good deed for the day. I've helped you face your fear. You realize you'll owe me a favor now," he taunted her, rich brown eyes shining with the reflection of the water.
Belle reeled him back in and nestled her head on his shoulder. She closed her eyes and the water seemed peaceful now—less daunting now that he was holding her. Perhaps she'd even allow him to teach her how to swim properly.
"Maybe I'll have a surprise for you back at the cabin," she teased. Rumpelstiltskin's face darkened—he never liked surprises. Surprises were unpredictable and out of his control.
"I suppose it'd be too much to ask for a hint." He bent his head until his lips hovered above hers. His warm breath tickled her skin and his fingers brushed aside the damp strands of her hair from her cheek.
"I could give you one…but you'd owe me a favor." He grinned.
"That's my girl."
…
I remember Belle mentioning in Skin Deep that she wanted a chance to be brave, and that kind of had me playing around with things that she might have been somewhat hesitant to try. I hope you guys enjoyed it.
Did any of you catch the new promo for Season 2 after the marathon on Sunday? It was oh, so good! Only 19 days left until it premieres now.
Of course, I always have my reviewers to thank for their lovely comments and support for this story. You guys are awesome!
To The Sky Pirate Girl: You know, I have asked that same question since Hat Trick. Emma and Jefferson have such chemistry…hopefully we'll see more of them in Season 2. Thanks for reading!
To discotimelord: Thank you for the review! I'm wondering if Belle will ever find out about Gaston in the show—so I put it in my own story. (-;
To thedoctorsgirl42: Oh, the commentary episode is absolutely fantastic. I highly recommend it—there's actually a lot of interesting information they mention. There's also another one for 7:15 am between Josh Dallas (Charming) and Ginnifer Goodwin (Snow).
To Bluecanbegreen: Well, thank you for trying to come up with as many adjectives as you can. I'll bet you're using a thesaurus, aren't you? The DVD for Once is awesome, by the way. (-;
To megumisakura: Thank you so much for the review! I'm glad you're enjoying the story. I only try my best!
To Romance and Musicals: Don't worry—I'm not through with Jefferson yet. I love him too much. You know, when I saw that scene between Mary Margaret and Emma, I actually thought Mary Margaret was on the verge of telling Emma to go to her room. Those two have a lot of catching up to do on the mother-daughter relationship. Thanks for reading!
To Grace5231973: I agree with you one hundred percent. I never liked Gaston and I'm glad the show took care of him early on. I half-expected him to be an obstacle for Rumbelle like Kathryn was for David and Mary Margaret. I like him better as a rose, too! I just hope he didn't need…whatever it was that Belle snipped. (-;
To prttykitty7728: Aw, thank you for the comment! I try to update as fast as I can and keep my readers satisfied.
To lilylulurose: Well, you have to admit their relationship is not an easy-going one. They have issues to work out and their true love isn't perfect or pristine as Snowing's seems to be. I think it'll be the same for the show, too. Don't worry—Mad Swan happens to be one of my favored ships, so maybe something good is yet to come. Thanks for the review!
Thank you everyone for reading and enjoying the story so much!