Simple things were beginning to have an effect on him. Little things that he found Belle did for him were beginning to drive him crazy, and not in a bad way. Fantasizing about her was one thing. Noticing her beauty, craving her body; it was a male human thing that he could easily dismiss. Enjoying their conversations and her company was something he could just as easily explain away after years of solitude without a friend in the world. But what came after Baelfire's birthday, the thoughts that followed that terrible night were not as easy to dismiss or explain.

He began to wonder what it would be like to kiss her.

And not in the way that he'd imagined it in his fantasies, which was always hot and heavy and filled with desire and passion. Those things were not absent in what he imagined now, but what he was thinking about wasn't about sex or relieving any kind of need that he felt. No, he was wondering about what it would be like to kiss her, to touch her in normal everyday moments. He was wondering how it would be to show her, remind her regularly how he felt about her not with words but with actions. What he felt...what the hell was it that he felt?!

This new phase had started when she'd left him that night with Baelfire, just after she'd lit the candle on the altar again. For one brief moment, before she'd slipped through his fingers, he'd wondered what it would be like to reach for her hand, to smooth his thumb over the back of her knuckles, then draw her down to him for a kiss. But not one that led to any kind of sexual fantasy, just one that acknowledged his gratitude. A kiss that told her he was hurting, but reassured her he was alright; he just needed to feel the hurt for a while. Then she would wrap her arms around his shoulders and let his head fall onto her stomach in a simple embrace before she left him once more to his mourning. He wondered what it would be to be with her in a way that invited such touches, where she might reach out and touch his shoulders just to let him know she was there. What it might be like on just an average ordinary day to catch her by the waist, kiss her firmly on the mouth, and then let her go back to her chores as if such exchanges were common or typical between them.

Thoughts like that were deadly. But perhaps even more deadly was the curiosity he suddenly had concerning what she thought of him. Suddenly he found himself wondering what, if anything, she felt for him. If this friendship they'd been developing was how she treated everyone she knew or if it was limited to him. And worst of all, he wondered if she ever went to bed at night and thought of him the way that he thought of her. If she had urges to touch and kiss the same way that he did.

The problem, of course, was her eyes. It wasn't her body, perfect as it was, or her voice, intoxicating as her conversations could be. It was the fact that he'd never known eyes like hers. Soft and yet sharp at the same time. They were friendly, and yet with the right look they cut him right down to the bone, leaving him feeling like all that he was was bared and shaking in the cold as she found the heart he was certain had died long ago made it beat again. It was a problem. Just as it always had been.

The trouble was that now he was having a hard time staying away from her. He still managed when he had to. He left during the week, went out and conducted his business, checked in on the necessary players in his games; but even when he was gone or busy she filled up his senses. He brought her books from the places he'd gone and delighted in her guessing at where he'd been and what he'd been doing. And then there were times like last night, when he'd come back from his trip and sought her out to inform her...he'd found her asleep in her tower instead. His mind had wandered. Again. What would it be like to sit at her side, to brush his fingers over her cheek, to wake her with a kiss? Would her eyes light up when she saw he was back? And, just like that, just when he started feeling like she was washed from his system, she infected him all over again just by being alseep! He'd only just barely managed to drape a blanket over her to keep her warm for the night and escape before he dared to try it. She was like a drug, nearly as effective as magic at making him feel complete inside. It was hard to ignore that and getting harder day by day to deny he was growing attached to her. Just as it was hard to deny how unhappy he was when it was her day to go to the market.

She'd been late to breakfast that morning, a good thing since it left her no room to ask him about the blanket she must have noticed she woke up with. Unfortunately for him, she was not late in getting her things together and preparing to go to town. The castle would be quiet in her absence; quiet and cold.

"Belle," he called out when he arrived in the foyer. He found her in the same place he did every week: the Great Room, struggling with the clasp for her cloak, just as she did nearly every week.

"Oh, there you are!" he smiled, wondering if she knew that this run-in was becoming a weekly occurrence. Did she know he wanted to see her off? Or did she just assume that he wanted to check to make sure her clasp was on correctly? "And so near the front door planning on leaving me?!"

"You know I wouldn't do that, Rumpelstiltskin," she sighed.

"No, certainly not, at least not while wearing that fastener."

"Don't be so dramatic," she muttered, rolling her eyes. "I'm just going to the market down the road. Unless you start spinning straw into meals, I still need food to cook with."

Oh, he was itching to correct her, so much so that he didn't even know where to begin! Should he remind her that he would have been happy to deliver food to her once more? That the market was not just 'down the road' but the mountain? The only thing that managed to keep his mouth shut was the fact that as he watched her struggle, there was something else he was itching to do, and it had nothing to do with conversation.

Before he could even question if he could ever be so bold, his fingers got the better of him, and he'd done it. He'd reached out, wrapped his arms around her shoulders, let himself get close enough to smell her hair, feel her muscles tighten at his presence, and her heart race…and then fastened the clasp properly. Her reaction to him fascinated him. She never pulled away, never acted as though she didn't want to touch him, but he could feel her surprise when he did. Was that excitement he heard in her heart? Or just a trick of his mind? What else could it be?

"Don't forget," he let himself whisper in her ear, "that fastener is enchanted. If you wander off, I'll know." Better yet, if something bad happened to her again, he would know immediately and be able to find her. She was safe.

"I made a promise to stay with you forever," she muttered back with just a hint of bite in her tone. "And I hope that someday you'll realize I'm a woman of my word."

"We'll see about that…"

He finally got the clasp to cooperate. It snapped perfectly into place for him and just on instinct, as he might have done with his son, he let his hands linger over her shoulders to smooth out the fabric before him. That was when she finally moved. She took a small step away and faced him, but didn't move out of his grasp, allowing him to keep his hands on her shoulders. She was a vision. The question he had to ask himself was what kind of vision was she. The present kind that he could admire for making the simplest of cloaks seem fitting for a queen? Or the future kind that he should be avoiding? What was the chance she was both? He moved quickly to pull the hood at her back up and over her hair, letting his fingers brush against her cheeks. She blushed. He might have if he wasn't…

If he wasn't this.

"Now, don't catch cold out there," he warned, pulling his hands quickly away from her and taking a few steps back. She was the present version of a vision. And if he was questioning that, then he was starting to let his fantasies get in the way of reality. Perhaps a little too much in the way. "The forest path is quite damp. We wouldn't want an illness interfering with your daily chores, would we?"

She smiled and shook her head with a small chuckle. "Definitely not," she chuckled gently before reaching for the basket at her feet. "We both know this place would fall into disrepair without me."

He let out his own chuckle as he opened the door for her. "I survived centuries before you, dearie, and I'll survive centuries after."

But he felt an ache in his chest even as he said those words. Worse, as she exited out the door and made her way down the steps, he'd caught her muttering something that he was certain he wasn't meant to hear. "Are you sure about that, Rumpelstiltskin?"

No. He wasn't. In fact, he was positive that what he'd told her was a lie and what she'd said was the truth. Without her, this castle was…well…it was dark. It always would be the Dark Castle, but with her around there was light and life and he found that he'd adjusted well to that in these last few months. How he would ever survive the loss of her…that wasn't something he should allow himself to think about.

He needed to get his head on straight. He needed to stop doing this, to stop letting her into his mind as he was. He needed to figure out a way to end what he was feeling. What he was feeling…

Just down the road, he saw her stop. She turned, glanced back at him and even though she was so distant he couldn't see her eyes, he felt his heart stop as she raised a hand and waved at him. He didn't return the gesture as she turned to go.

He was feeling things again. For a woman. What it was he was feeling didn't matter so much as the fact that he was simply feeling something for someone else other than his son. He hadn't done that in ages, not since Cora.

Cora…

He really needed to figure out what to do about this before it became the problem Cora had.

So this is a pretty fun chapter. Again, we're in the thick of it here, the Rumbelleiest of the Rumbelle chapters. We know he's in love. I think on some level even he knows at this point he just doesn't want to admit it. You can see that he's failing in everything he's tried with her. He can't stay away, he can't touch her, and I think the real kicker is that he's essentially just imagining himself being tender and in love that is probably the most dangerous thing. But he does realize that it's bad and ultimately I think that's what's going to lead to their downfall. We should be starting to see how it's all going to fall apart in his mind by this point.

Thank you Alarda, Jennifer Baratta, and Grace5231973 for your reviews. True story, these chapters were fun to write because they required a bit of creativity. After all, these scenes don't come from a "seen scene", they come from a still comic book drawing. I found it was nice because it allowed a little bit of flexibility with motions. Likewise, with the words, because all we see is text, it allows me to imagine what they sound like and add a line or two here and there in an acceptable place. If you've never read these chapters before, I hope you like them! Peace and Happy Reading!