III

***Will You Go With Me to the Ball?***

Rumpelstiltskin stared longingly across the grounds of his estate, his gaze sliding along the cold gray bricks to the window several stories above. From his vantage point, hidden among the fruit trees in the orchard, he could easily make out Belle's petite frame as she once again moved to peer out of the library's window. Her azure eyes flickered over the road past the great iron gates which barred entry to the Dark Castle, searching … for her master. Or at least that was what he wished to convince himself.

He leaned against the trunk of a peach tree and looked up at the heavy fruit-laden branches. Snow surrounded him, deep drifts, some coming as high as his knees, yet his magic provided optimum yield from the trees. It wouldn't do for his little maid to be without the peaches she loved so much. And oh, the wonderful treats she could produce from her kitchen, he mused, his stomach growling at the mere thought. She wasn't supposed to bring him such comfort, nor joy or happiness. Her purpose was to care for his estate, to clear the cobwebs and centuries of dust from his collection. And yet …

How had he ever lived without her? He remembered not so long ago, standing at that same window where she was now, his sharp eyes trained on the road to the village, willing her to return to him. He remembered the conscious decision to let her go, to grant her freedom and send her on her way. He'd only felt the soul-shattering depths of despair so acutely one other time in his life, when he'd lost his son. But she'd come back to him. His sweet girl had returned – albeit acting a bit strangely – smiling in the most peculiar way, and leaving him to wonder time and again why she had come back.

He just couldn't understand how she could care for him in any way. He was a monster, a beast, the spinner of the darkest deals, an evil predator … he'd heard them all over the centuries as darkness had eaten away at his soul, but Belle had seen through the mask he wore, and battered against the walls he'd constructed to protect what was left of his heart. He sighed as she moved away from the window, back into the bowels of the vast library he'd built for her.

And just what do you think to accomplish by standing out here in the snow, spying on the girl? came that dreaded inner voice of the demon. It was right, however. If Regina did have a spell to bring him to a land without magic without the need for his curse, he had to pursue it. Belle would like that. He didn't think she would care for it much if he ripped the world apart to achieve his own goals. He cursed that blasted fairy for destroying all his hard work and giving the queen another chance. If Tinkerbell was so intent on saving Regina, why couldn't she have come forward sooner with this mysterious spell of Blue's? Before he'd spent so much time to create his monster. Bah! Fucking fairies with their own agendas!

Standing in the ankle-deep snow drift wasn't helping him think any more clearly than before, and with a flick of his wrist he transported himself to the library. Though he blended well with the shadows, his little maid was able to sense his presence immediately. Nothing ever seemed to escape her notice for long. She placed a ribbon in her book to mark her place before she set it on the end table and pushed the knitted afghan off her lap. She'd changed before coming up to her sanctuary, her fluffy fleece robe tied securely about her trim waist. As she moved to stand, he was afforded a glimpse at her long slender legs, bare below the knee, and a glimpse of royal blue silk. Was that one of his shirts? His body tightened at the thought of her sweet curves enveloped in something he'd worn on his own body.

Her lips curled into a knowing smile as her cerulean eyes searched out his hiding place. "You might as well come out, master. I know you're there," she purred, her dulcet tones washing over him like a silken caress.

Rumpelstiltskin stepped forward into the light of the few lamps she'd lit. It was quiet but for the crackling of the fire, and he was loath to break the peaceful solitude. "I thought you'd have retired for the evening, dearie," he said, adapting a more natural timbre to his voice rather than the high pitch of the Dark One.

Belle tilted her head to the side, regarding him steadily as he slowly approached her. "I believe I told you I'd wait for you."

Oh, he hadn't forgotten.

Her inquisitive gaze narrowed on him. "You're on edge, Rumpelstiltskin. Did your meeting with the queen not go well?"

She shivered and wrapped her arms about herself, rubbing her hands over the sleeves along her upper arms to warm herself. He reached for the afghan and draped it over her shoulders. "You're cold. You should be in bed where it's warm," he admonished, urging her to return to her seat upon the settee.

"Stop evading. If you don't want to talk about it, I'll not push you."

He sat beside her, though not close enough to touch. The temptation was too great to take what he wanted, the darkness beating against the edges of his consciousness. He would not let it touch her with it's evil, not her. Instead, he reached into his coat and removed the invitation the queen had given him, holding it out to her.

Belle took it from him, her eyes widening in surprise. "A ball? The queen is hosting a Valentine's day ball?"

"Yes, I do believe that's what it says on the invitation," he drawled.

"The queen?"

"Yes, dearie."

"Is she ill? Bespelled, or otherwise taken leave of her senses?" she asked in all seriousness.

He giggled, amused with her skepticism. "Funnily enough, I had the same reaction."

Belle shook her head. This just didn't mesh with the cold malicious woman she'd met on more than one occasion since coming to live with Rumpelstiltskin. She'd even tried to convince Belle to break her master's curse. Thankfully, Belle was smarter than that. She'd never do anything to deliberately provoke his wrath, and breaking his curse when it seemed so important to him … gods! she didn't even want to contemplate. It needed to be a conscious decision on his part.

"Are you going to go?" she asked for want of something to say when she realized she'd gone quiet and he was studying her profile with a worried frown.

"The queen has something I need, and she refuses to give it to me unless I attend," he admitted, his mouth twisting in disgust.

"Oh … well I'm sure you'll … er, have a good time, yes?"

The mage arched a dubious brow. "Really, dearie? I think not."

"Do you really need this thing Regina possesses? Could you not acquire it by other means? Or is it unique and rare?"

His head dropped back against the settee as he closed his eyes wearily and sighed. "She claims it is a spell which will open a portal to a land without magic. Something for which I've been searching … for centuries, Belle."

The breath caught in her chest, her heart wrenching as he opened himself to her. How long had she waited for him to trust her, to confide in her, to give of himself? Her hand lifted of its own volition to brush the hair from his brow, her fingertips gently caressing the side of his face as he turned to look at her. So much pain in his gaze, so much longing.

"Why would you need such a thing?" she asked softly as he turned into her touch.

"To find my son."

Her lips parted on a silent gasp. "But you said –"

"I said he was lost, Belle, not dead."

"I see."

"No, I don't think you do. I've never really explained it to you before."

She bit her lip to hold back a snarky retort. It wouldn't do to upset him now when he was being so generous with his heart. "You could tell me now," she murmured in a gentle tone. "I would never betray your secrets, Rumpel. Surely you must know that by now."

"I don't know how to trust, Belle." He wanted to … so badly. He wanted to just give himself over to her and never let go, to tell her everything. Why did it have to be so hard?

She nodded. As if she didn't know how difficult it was for him. She studied him for a moment, realizing how still he was. It was almost as if he were frozen, just waiting for her to reject him, or belittle him for his confession. "Perhaps, one day, you'll see how much I care for you, and it will be easier for you to share your past with me. Forever is a long time. I can wait for you, Rumpel."

He stiffened as her hand settled over his heart, her head coming to rest upon his shoulder. When had she gotten so close? How could she bear to touch him when others did their utmost best to run from him? His heart constricted and unshed tears burned his throat. What was she doing to him? How could she – and only she – make him feel so vulnerable? Because you love her, idiot!

The voice returned to twist his feelings into knots. She's playing you for a fool. The girl will take your petty feelings and use them against you! But wasn't she worth the risk? He didn't have to bear the burden alone anymore. All he had to do was trust.

"Baelfire … my son. He couldn't … he didn't like what'd I'd become," he began, almost too quietly for her to hear, but he knew she had by the way she pressed closer into his side. "I took the curse to save him. He was only fourteen, Belle, when they came to take him off to fight the ogres. I couldn't let him go … not to die, not to be slaughtered in a senseless war."

"Did you know what the curse would do to you?"

He shook his head and rested his cheek against her soft hair, feeling the tight fist of dread clutching his heart ease its grip. "No. I thought I could use my power for good. Didn't quite work out that way. I was able to save my boy, but my need to protect him … it drove me to collect more power. He couldn't abide with what I became. All he wanted was for me to be as I once was, and I promised if he could find a way to return me to my former state, I would do it. Yet, when he succeeded, I couldn't go through with it. I couldn't give up my power. When that blasted portal opened to take us to a land without magic, I couldn't let go, Belle. I can still feel his hand slipping out of mine, see his face as he called me a coward."

Belle could feel his pain as if it were her own, tears slipping from her eyes to spill over her ashen cheeks. "And you've been looking for him ever since."

He nodded, lifting his hand to brush away her tears. "I've never stopped. I have to find him. I was so close. I groomed Regina to cast my curse, for all the good it's done me. Don't look at me like that, dearie," he chided. "Dark One, remember?"

She bit back a grin at his admonishment. "This curse would take you to a land without magic?"

"It would rip apart the realms and bring us all there."

"Rumpel! You can't do that. Think of the destruction. You wouldn't be able to live with the guilt."

"Couldn't I? If it would give me back my boy?"

"Point taken," she conceded. "But why would you need Regina to cast it. As much power as you wield, couldn't you cast it yourself?"

"No," was all he said, not wishing to elaborate. She didn't need to know what a cankerous sore the curse truly was. "But it's no longer an option. Regina has found love," he sneered, "and refuses to give up her second chance at happiness to curse the realms and give me what I want."

"Love? The queen found love?" she asked incredulously. "So, what are we to do now? How can I help?"

Rumpelstiltskin's brows shot up in surprise. "You want to help … me?"

"Of course, I do," she affirmed. She looked down at the invitation in her lap. "And all you have to do is attend the ball for her to give you this spell for the portal? I wonder what it all entails … the spell, I mean."

"I don't know."

"Well, we can worry about that later. I'll send her your RSVP in the morning."

He chuckled softly at her enthusiasm. "Come with me ... to the ball." He winced. Leave it to him to mess it up. He didn't want her to think he was commanding her to go with him. He wanted it to be her choice. "What I mean … Belle, would you go to the ball with me?"

She blinked … several times, in fact … stunned. "Y-You … like a date?"

"No!" he interjected, only to curse himself inwardly. This was not going well. "Maybe," he added when her face fell. "If you want."

"I'd love to go to the ball with you, Rumpelstiltskin," she said softly, a pretty pink blush settling in her cheeks.

The fingers of his right hand rubbed against his thumb, hesitating only a moment before brushing a stray curl behind her ear. His amber eyes softened, his voice even moreso. "Alright, dearie, off to bed with you. Tomorrow we'll go to the village to visit the dressmaker."

Belle bit her lip and regarded him from beneath her lashes, pleasure coursing through her veins at his touch. She leaned forward slowly, giving him time to retreat if he wished, and pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth in a tender kiss. She couldn't forget what the queen had revealed to her about true love's kiss, or what it might do to her sorcerer. "Goodnight, master," she cooed, rising to do as he'd bid.

Rumpelstiltskin watched her go, his hand lifting to press where her lips had been a moment ago, his skin tingling. "Goodnight, Belle."

A/N: This was one of my favorite parts :D He's got it bad, lol. In the next chapter, Rumpel takes Belle dress shopping. Thank you all so much for reading and leaving lovely comments. Your support means so much to me.