CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

They'd been married a fortnight when it started; the moodiness, the long bouts of intense concentration and then frenetic energy which had her bouncing all over the castle like a rabid rabbit jacked up on fairy dust. And frankly, Rumpelstiltskin was beginning to worry. At first, he'd put it down to her monthly time, having seen her supplies in the water closet on top of her attempting to sleep in her own room. It had taken a fair amount of persuading, but he'd eventually coaxed her back into the bed they shared. Just because he couldn't touch her for a miserable six days didn't mean he didn't want the pleasure of being able to hold her as she slept.

He had taken to making his clients come to the castle, loath to leave her in the first weeks of their marriage, the novelty of being newly married after centuries alone - and all it entailed - making him crave her presence. Now he was contemplating seeking out a deal which would take him away from the Dark Castle for several days just so he would be able to rest. A smug smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he sat there before his spinning wheel, thoughts of his precious wife dancing in his head. Once introduced to the pleasures of their marriage bed, she'd become an insatiable little thing, her appetites rivaling his own. Not that he was complaining, far from it, but he was bloody well exhausted. Which was quite a feat considering, under the effects of his curse, he didn't succumb to mortal fatigue or any other such maladies which seemed to befall humans.

His eyes followed her as she swept through the Great Hall, the skirt of her rose-colored gown hiked up a bit so she wouldn't trip. His grin widened as his gaze fell appreciatively to the slender turn of her delicate ankles as she hurried past, only to fall when she didn't even acknowledge his presence. This is new, he thought in irritation. She never failed to offer him a smile or a warm glance when entering a room, usually seeking him out no matter what her preoccupation may be. His brows drew together in befuddlement over her behavior as she disappeared into the corridor leading to the kitchens, but he shrugged, passing it off as nothing and gave the wheel a lazy turn.

Belle returned moments later, her arms laden with several wrapped bundles and again, she hurried through the room without so much as looking at him. The doors closed behind her with a thud and he tapped his blackened nails against the wheel, vexed over her odd behavior. He glanced down at the snarled tangle of thread in his right hand and cursed. "Lovely," he snarled, rising from his stool and conjuring a tea tray, hoping it would help relax him.

Belle stormed back through the hall just as he raised his cup to his lips, grabbed the book she'd been searching for on the table beside the settee and left again just as quickly. His eyes narrowed on the doors as they closed behind her, setting his cup down upon the tray. He opened up their bond as wide as it would go and stealthily crept along the edges of her mind, searching for whatever it was that had her in such a state. He recoiled as a blast of white light sent an electrical pulse back through the bond and knocked him flat on his leather-clad arse.

"Rumpelstiltskin!" Sarah cried in alarm as she came into the room to ask if he was ready for her to serve dinner. "Are you alright?" She rushed to his side as he sat up and gave his head a vigorous shake to clear it.

He hefted himself to his feet and grabbed the edge of the table to steady himself. "I will be, dearie, as soon as I have a few words with my wife," he growled.

"You sure that's a good idea?" she asked, toying with the frayed edge of the dish cloth slung over her shoulder. "She's been a bit out of sorts today and you know there's no talking to her when she gets like that."

His bemused gaze swung to her. "Has she said anything to you about what might be troubling her?"

"No, but she's distracted, she can't be still, and her magic seems off," Sarah informed him, giving the mage a pointed look as if he were somehow at fault.

He felt like kicking himself for not exploring their bond earlier. Not that he could do so now if he wanted to remain on his feet. "What makes you say that?"

Sarah sighed heavily, not used to having anyone aside from Belle to answer to, but she knew she couldn't withhold something as important as this from him. "It's been awhile since she's been so upset that she's lost control of her magic. When she came into the kitchen, she was very nearly crackling with it. As she was leaving, after raiding the food locker, the salt and pepper shakers on the worktable exploded and I don't even think she noticed."

"I'll talk to her. Did you need something?" he asked when she didn't return to the kitchens.

"Should I hold dinner?"

"Just use the enchanted covers in the food locker. They'll keep our dinner warm. You and Marcus shouldn't have to wait on us."

He found her in the library, rummaging through his cabinets, his potion kit on the table next to her. It was the one he used when traveling and needed to bring an assortment of vials with him. "Belle, what are you doing?" he asked, trying to keep his tone neutral. He still wasn't quite comfortable with her going through his potions and cordials. There were things in there he didn't want her exposed to.

"Have to be ready," she murmured distractedly, placing a packet of headache powders in the case between a cordial for nausea and another for fever.

"Are we going somewhere?" he asked, slipping his arms about her waist and resting his chin atop her shoulder. He felt hope flicker to life in his chest at the prospect that the time was at hand to leave on their quest to find his son.

Belle rested her hand atop his where they were clasped about her waist and sighed as she leaned back against his chest. "Yes … no … I don't know!"

He turned her around in his arms to face him, a worried frown creasing his brow as he took in the anxiety on her features. Her body was nearly humming with unrestrained power. "Belle, love, tell me what's wrong. Let me help you."

Belle pushed out of his arms and closed the lid on the potion case before packing it away into a rucksack. The case shouldn't have been able to fit in the sack and he could only assume she'd bewitched it with a charm to expand its interior. She'd be able to pack an endless number of things in there and only need one traveling bag to bring with her … them … There was no way he was letting her go anywhere alone. They were in this together.

"You can't, Rumpel —"

"Of course, I can!" he objected.

"No, you can't … not when I don't know what's wrong," she interjected, her shoulders drooping as she lowered her gaze. "I'm sorry, darling, I didn't mean to snap at you."

He swept her up into his arms and set her on the edge of the table, his large hands cupping her neck and his thumbs rubbing gently at her pulse points as he made her meet his gaze. "That's it, my Belle, deep breaths," he commanded in a gentle, soothing tone. "Open the bond and let me feel you." He pressed a tender kiss to her lips and she sighed happily as she removed the blockage on her end of their bond. He swept in hurriedly before she lost her focus and flooded her with calm, soothing her upset from the inside out. "Better?"

"Mhmm," she hummed, giving herself over to him completely. She dragged her skirts up over her knees and hooked her heels around his thighs, pulling him forward to stand between her legs so she could wrap herself around him.

He bit down on his lip to stifle a moan as her heat came in contact with his groin, refusing to let his desire get in the way. He needed to help her relax, to rein in her magic and get over her upset. "Now tell me," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple as he held her, his long spinner's fingers stroking through her hair.

She melted into him, her arms and legs loosely wrapped around him as he petted and stroked her hair. She could feel his love pulse through their bond, calming and soothing her and the coiled knot of tension in her abdomen loosened for the first time in days. The first curling dark tendril of his magic at the edges of her mind made her recoil slightly and she stiffened, not wanting him to have to experience the riot of emotion swirling in her mind.

"I won't hurt you, love. Won't you let me in? If you can't talk about it —" His voice trailed off as she relaxed once more against his chest, giving her the time she needed without intruding again.

"I know," she murmured, dropping a lingering kiss to the hollow of his throat. "I just don't know how to explain what's bothering me. I have this feeling."

"A feeling? Like a premonition?" he asked, pulling away just a bit to raise her chin so he could look into her eyes. It was possible she might have gained part of his precognition gift through their binding, he thought miserably.

She shook her head. "No, more of a feeling that something is going to happen."

His brows drew together low over his eyes as he studied her. "Are you in pain?"

"No," she assured him, rubbing a hand over her stomach where the knot of tension seemed to emanate. "It's more like a big ball of apprehension right here." She moved his hand to rest against her abdomen and then placed hers over it, opening the bond a bit wider so he could feel a part of what had her so wound up.

"How do you feel right now? Do you think you could eat a bit of dinner? I have a potion that will help you relax and sleep through the night without this keeping you up," he said, pressing a kiss to her brow.

She nodded, taking his hand as he helped her from the table, so they could walk down to the kitchen. "Rumpel, what if this has to do with Bae? Do you think this is what we've been waiting for? This has been steadily getting worse for the better part of a week. It's why I've been trying to gather everything we'll need for our journey," she told him, gesturing to the open rucksack. "I thought it would be best to be prepared to leave at a moment's notice."

"You've been packing?" he asked, tucking her against his side and looping his arm around her shoulder as they stepped out into the corridor at the bottom of the stairs.

"Yes, just a few things I thought we might need."

"A few things?" He arched a brow, wondering what a princess would think was a few things.

"You know … um … necessary potions, a few changes of clothes, several sacks of gold, food … maybe a few books," she said, her lips twitching mischievously.

"Because you'll have so much time to read on this trip, hm?" he teased, rolling his eyes.

"Of course, Rum; there's always time for a good book."

*.*.*

They never made it farther than the entrance hall. Belle collapsed in his arms, clutching at her stomach, her eyes glowing with a golden light as she let out an agonized moan which pierced him to his soul. "Belle!" he cried as he caught her, holding her upright against him.

"I-I know w-what it is," she gasped, her head falling back so she could look up at him. Her smile caught him off guard and he stumbled, bringing them both to their knees next to the double doors leading into the Great Hall. "W-Winter said I would k-know."

"Belle? Know what?"

She waved away his questions and said, "Quickly! Can you summon our bag and cloaks to us? There's not a moment to waste." She could already feel the air crackling and shifting restlessly around her.

Rumpelstiltskin's stomach clenched with fear, but he pushed it aside to do as she'd asked. He clasped her black cloak with its ermine lining about her throat with his shaking hands, making certain it was secure before fastening his own about his shoulders and hoisting the rucksack onto his back. Already she was holding her hands out before her impatiently, her eyes alight with excitement.

Belle smiled up at him as she waited, the coiled knot of tension no longer plaguing her. It had burst outward through her, sending her magic spiraling and swirling through her blood. She'd never felt more powerful and she knew without a doubt this was the moment they'd been waiting for. And though her husband appeared outwardly calm as he reached up to place his palm against hers, through the bond she could feel his fear … a deep gut-wrenching fear unlike any she'd ever felt before.

"Rumpelstiltskin! Focus on me," she cried, her voice rising as their magics … white and dark … fused together and merged into one. The air around them swirled, whipping her unbound hair about her head. His eyes widened incredulously, and his left hand froze mere inches from her right, his gaze darting between his left and the twined fingers of his right.

Memories of the churning green vortex which had taken his boy from him, flooded his mind and suddenly he was afraid. What if it this one took Belle from him? This is what they'd been waiting for, what Winter had promised him from the beginning … to be reunited with his son, that Belle would be the catalyst. But he couldn't do it if he would lose his precious wife … he wouldn't.

"Belle, I can't"

"Yes, you can. Now give me your hand and help me open the portal," she cried, frowning when he still hesitated. He struggled against their tightly bound hands, paling beneath his green gold skin as she reached out and grabbed his left, leaving him no choice.

"I don't want to lose you!" he howled as the air thickened and swirled faster about them.

"You won't! Just don't let go!"

As if he could, he thought desperately. Their magic fused them together just as surely as if someone had poured glue over their hands.

"You can do this, Rum. Just have faith," she implored.

What little courage he possessed asserted itself in the face of Belle's bravery and the belief she had in him, and he squared his shoulders with determination. This was for his boy. Somehow, he would find his Baelfire and protect Belle as well. They were his … his family, his hope, his future. He would be brave for them. And then the floor gave way beneath their feet and he could feel himself falling … falling … falling into the abyss of churning, swirling, purple and crimson mist.

*.*.*

Rumpelstiltskin groaned as the smell of decaying leaves assailed his nose. He was lying on a hard surface and he could feel the chill seeping into his old bones. For a moment his mind was a complete blank and it made him wonder if he'd drunk so much he hadn't been able to make it home so Belle could help him to bed and … Belle!

"Belle!" he called as he pushed himself up to his knees, his eyes searching through the darkness for his wife. No, no, no, no, no! He'd had a vise-like grip on her hand. How could they have become separated? "Belle!"

A low moan sounded off to his left where she'd landed a good twenty feet away from him in a low ditch. He scrambled to her side and searched her for injuries, fighting off the dizziness which made his head swim and his stomach churn.

Belle sucked in a sharp breath as his hands brushed over her breasts. "Really, darling," she whispered breathlessly, "now isn't the best time to get … frisky."

He yanked her up into his arms, crushing her against his chest as relief flooded him. If she was well enough to joke with him, she couldn't be hurt, he reasoned. "If I was in a lusty mood, you'd know it, sweetheart," he returned. He cupped her face in his warm palms and pressed a kiss to her brow, his relief so great it nearly staggered him. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine, darling," she assured him. "Just a bruised bottom perhaps." She winced, allowing him to help her to her feet.

Pain shot through his right leg and he hissed, the old wound making itself known. With a thought, he sent a wisp of magic into the appendage, his eyes widening when it didn't respond immediately to his command. "Belle, my magic's not working right."

"Don't you feel it? It's like a low hum instead of a steady burn beneath your skin." She linked her fingers with his. "Now try."

He cast her a skeptical glance, but called on his magic again and this time it responded. It was then he remembered Winter telling them they'd have to be cautious in the new land and their powers would only work together through their bond. It would be the only way to return to their home. He focused on Belle as she gasped. "What? What is it?" he asked, glancing around warily.

"Your face," she said, reaching up to caress his stubbled jaw. "Y-Your beautiful golden skin … it's gone."

The moon peeked out from behind the cover of clouds and shone down on them, making it easier for him to see what had her so alarmed. He held his hand up before him and frowned down at the very human pinkness of his skin. He searched into the very inner recesses of his mind, concentrating deeply on the spirit which lurked there and unable to find it. "My curse must be dormant here. I can't hear …"

"Doesn't matter. You still have your magic. Frankly, it will probably be easier to accomplish our task without that demon whispering in your ear," she said softly, unable to take her eyes from the warm sable orbs staring back at her.

He tore his gaze away from hers, his ears pricking with the sound of carriage wheels, and he pulled her deeper into the shadows until it had passed. "If it weren't for the lack of magic in the air, I would think we were still in the Enchanted Forest. We're in the middle of nowhere!" he growled. "How are we supposed to find Baelfire if we don't know where we are?"

Belle shrugged, at a loss. "I don't know, Rum, but apparently, this is where we are supposed to be."

"How can you be so certain, hm? You've been here before, have you?" he snarked impatiently at her. "For all we know, that blasted enchantress has tricked us again!"

Belle clasped her hands in front of her as he paced away from her, winding himself into a lovely rant. She closed her eyes, listening to the forest surrounding them and hoping it would give her an answer. This was where the magic had brought them to begin their search and she couldn't dismiss it as another of Winter's tricks. There was no breeze, the air almost stagnant and the absence of sound even by the smallest forest creature gave her cause for alarm. All things her sorcerer husband would be able to sense himself if he would cease his tirade.

"Rumpel …"

"… blasted witch. If I ever get home, I'm going to stick her head on a pike on the front gate!"

"Rumpelstiltskin!"

"What?!"

She brushed aside his rudeness and reached for his hand, suddenly afraid. "Listen."

He calmed enough to feel her trepidation and fear flooding through their bond and his own heart rate sped up. He pulled her behind him as all the things she'd heard in her quiet moment registered on him. "Something's coming, Belle," he whispered, his breath misting in the sudden cold.

"Maybe w-we should g-go," she stammered, her teeth chattering violently as a shiver tripped up her spine.

The wind blew violently into the clearing on either side of the dirt road, whipping the scattered autumn leaves into a frenzy of small whirlwinds and the smell of ozone permeated the air. Not ozone, she thought wildly … magic. Her hands fisted in the back of his cloak and she whimpered, pressing her face between his shoulder blades, her courage fleeing. A flash of green light left her blinking against the glare and then she was being knocked to the ground, her husband rolling atop her to protect her with his own body. They rolled down the slight embankment where she ended up sprawled across his chest.

Belle groaned, every bone in her body aching, but her groans weren't the only sounds reaching her ears and her eyes widened. There was scuffling and rustling in the dead leaves and it was neither her nor her husband who lay still beneath her. She sat up quickly, her nose bumping a smaller one as she came face to face with a teenage boy. His eyes were as wide as hers, he apparently feeling the same surprise which coursed through her.

"I'm so sorry, ma'am! I didn't mean … I mean … I'm not usually so clumsy," the boy stuttered, looking down at his hands, his cheeks reddening in the faint moonlight. Then he froze, looking down into a pair of familiar brown eyes he'd never thought to see again. "Papa!"

Belle scooted back across the damp leaves on her butt in an effort to keep from being trampled by her husband as he pushed himself to his knees and pulled the boy into his arms, tears streaming down his face as he stared dumbfounded at his son. She could feel tears well in her own eyes to see the love, relief and happiness so evident on Rumpelstiltskin's features.

Baelfire clung to his father, disbelief shining in the depths of his dark eyes. "Papa, how? You let go and I fell, and I couldn't find you," he rushed to explain. "How could you have gotten here first? And you're in different clothes." His intelligent gaze narrowed suspiciously. "What's going on? And who is she?" he asked, pointing a shaking finger at Belle.

Belle paled, wondering how her usually articulate husband was going to explain himself. "Rumpel, it's getting colder. We need to find shelter for the night; somewhere warm where you can sit down and explain everything to your son," she said, gently laying her hand on his shoulder. She offered Baelfire a warm smile. "And I, young man, am Belle. I can't tell you how pleased I am to meet you."

"Did you come through the portal, too?" her stepson asked, his brow furrowed questioningly, clearly confused as to how it could have happened.

"In a manner of speaking," she hedged.

Rumpelstiltskin guided them to the side of the road and ushered them ahead of him. "Let us just find an inn and get warm before the two of you catch your death."

*.*.*

"What fresh hell is this?!" Rumpelstiltskin cursed, pulling Belle closer to the storefront as a ruffian rushed past and nearly collided with her.

Baelfire stuck close to his father's other side, his gaze taking in everything at once. "I've never seen so much foot traffic, Papa, even in Longborne," he said, remembering the few times he and his father had gone to the large city to sell wool, cloth and the fine thread Rumpelstiltskin had made as a spinner.

Belle narrowed her eyes across the busy street at the tall building several stories high. "There, Rumpel. We might be able to find a room for the night."

"How do you know?"

"Luggage," she pointed, smiling brightly. She didn't begrudge his lack of perception as she could still feel the riot of fear and doubt flickering through the bond. He was terrified at the prospect of having to explain his actions to his son and worse yet, how Baelfire was going to react.

The doorman looked down his nose at the trio as they approached, and Belle paused to dig in the rucksack for a pouch of gold, slipping several coins into the doorman's hand. Rumpelstiltskin sneered at the man's wide eyes and slack jaw as Belle tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and pulled him inside. Baelfire was too busy taking in all the strange sights to worry about anything except keeping up with his father and the strange woman who seemed to have latched onto him.

A tall thin man with a curling moustache and dark slicked back hair stood behind the front desk as they approached, a snide smirk on his thin lips. "Welcome to the Albany Hotel, how may I assist you?"

Rumpelstiltskin met the man's eyes, trying to be civil and courteous for his son's sake. "We require a room for the night."

The man's beady eyes flickered appreciatively over Belle and then moved over Baelfire's shabby garments, his mouth curling into an expression of distaste before coming to rest on Rumpelstiltskin once more. "I'm sorry, but we seem to have no vacancies."

Belle squeezed her husband's arm as she felt the magic hum dangerously beneath his skin and turned her smiling blue eyes on the clerk. "Is there perhaps another hostelry where you might direct us?" she asked, flashing him a demure smile. She knew the little toad was lying to them as she'd seen three separate guests check out, their luggage being loaded into carriages while she'd watched from across the street.

"I can think of none offhand, madam," he retorted in a dry tone.

She leaned over and confided to her husband in a loud whisper, "I do believe this one reminds me of Alastair."

"What was that, dearest?" he asked, his eyes twinkling mischievously at her cleverness. Oh, what a little actress his wife could be. He couldn't wait to see where she was going with this.

"Alastair, the queen's bodyguard. He's snooty like this fellow here," she sniffed haughtily, every bit the princess, pretending as though the man wasn't hanging on her every word.

He had to bite his lip to stifle the laughter threatening to spill forth from his mouth. For one, Belle had never met Regina and two, the queen didn't have a bodyguard, much less one named Alastair.

Belle wanted to reach over and close the odious little man's mouth for him before a fly landed on his tongue, but thought better of it. "I suppose we'll have to seek out another establishment to meet our needs, husband," she said with a dramatic sigh, making sure her purse full of coins jingled merrily.

"You know, milady, I do believe we … um … have one room left … a suite," he trilled, all politeness and good manners coming to the fore with a brilliant smile. He pushed the registration log towards Rumpelstiltskin and snapped his fingers, a bellboy rushing forward to take their luggage.

The sorcerer glared menacingly at the boy until he backed off. "Thanks, I think I'll keep this with me," he growled. Belle pressed several coins into the clerk's hand as the bellboy took the key and led them towards the ornate grand staircase in the center of the lobby.

Baelfire trailed along after his parents and whispered to his father, "What queen?"

"Later."

"But, Papa, we —"

Rumpelstiltskin wrapped his free arm around his son's shoulder and clapped a hand over his mouth. "Later, Bae," he hissed in the boy's ear with a smile. He was thinking Baelfire would get along splendidly with his new wife, for he didn't know two more curious and inquisitive creatures in all the realms.

The mage let Belle deal with the bellboy while he and Bae explored the room. There were two rooms, one on either end of the suite with a large bathing chamber and sitting room taking up the center areas and a spacious balcony which overlooked the square below. He came back into the sitting room after glancing appreciatively around the room he would share with his wife to find her still giving instructions to the bellboy.

"I need ready-made clothes for my son," she was saying.

"Papa! There's running water from the tap in here," Baelfire called from the bathing chamber.

"… also I'd like to be able to take dinner here in our room. Perhaps some roast pheasant if the chef is amenable?" she continued. The bellboy just nodded and accepted the gold she pressed into his hands.

"Why is the soap shaped like little frogs?"

Rumpelstiltskin slapped a hand to his brow and raked it the length of his face, collapsing on the settee and shaking his head at his son. "Just take a bath if you're so fascinated by modern plumbing!" he called back.

Belle leaned back against the closed door and huffed out a laugh. "Thank Freja that's over!" She pushed away from the door and went to sit beside her husband, curling into his side and resting her head against his shoulder. "I am so exhausted."

He pressed a kiss to her brow and rested his head against her crown as they listened to Baelfire splash around in the tub through the closed door. "So am I, sweetheart. I feel like I could sleep for a week."

Belle turned her face up to his and pressed her lips to his, melting into his embrace and offering him comfort for the difficult task which lay ahead of him. He deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding along her lower lip until she opened for him.

She gasped as she heard a voice ask, "Papa, why are you kissing Belle?" His face flushed with embarrassment and he lowered his eyes, a sheepish grin quirking up the corners of his mouth. "I think now would be a really good time for that explanation you promised."