VIII

***It's Alright to Be Afraid***

Belle burrowed beneath the heavy down duvet on her bed, and tried to concentrate on the adventure novel she'd found buried at the back of the library on one of its uppermost shelves. Attempting to read a romance was fairly impossible and she couldn't bear a suspense novel since those were her master's favorites. They dredged up too many memories of him.

She'd retreated to her room, remaining there unless she absolutely needed something – mostly tea – and it had been so for three days. After their argument, when she'd laid herself bare and confided in him, she'd wept until she was sure there were no tears left. How wrong she'd been. The next morning, hoping she'd find him in the library, her resolve had been strong to soothe his ire and work through their problems. It hadn't lasted long when she'd come face to face with her completed ball gown.

If only the seamstresses in her kingdom possessed even an inkling of his talent, she'd mused as tears had gathered behind her lashes. Every stitch was perfection. From the long full-length sleeves and jeweled off the shoulder neckline to the fitted waist and split skirt with the white lace underskirt, it was the most beautiful gown she'd ever seen.

He'd been right. The two-toned striped silk would complement her eyes. It was a gown she'd be proud to wear to the queen's ball. Only now she wasn't even certain he still wanted her to accompany him. She'd fled the library, unable to remain there a moment longer. There were too many memories of their shared time together. She'd needed the solace of her room where she could wallow in her pain without any interruptions.

It wasn't until later, when she'd ventured to the kitchen for tea, that she'd found a hastily scribbled note. He'd simply said he'd be gone for several days to locate the last of the ingredients he'd need for the spell. She'd known he was using the spell as an excuse to avoid her. He was rather good at that when he wished. With so much magic at his disposal, it was quite easy to hide from her. And all the while, she was left to wonder if things would ever be the same between them again.

Her vision blurred on the page, her heart clenching with pain. She didn't know if she could go back to how things were before he'd begun to pursue her affections. She was still quite surprised he'd finally given into his feelings to do so at all. But what if he truly believed she'd meant to betray him? Would he try to send her away … again? If he did, she didn't think she'd be able to bear it. He was her home, her love. She belonged with him.

Before she'd known him, every decision regarding her life had been made for her … from her education and what she was allowed to study, to who she would marry. Rumpelstiltskin was her choice. She'd never regretted leaving her privileged, pampered life behind to go with the Dark One. Despite his argumentative nature when she'd first become his caretaker, he'd still made her feel as if her opinions mattered. She'd flourished under his watchful eye, and she couldn't … wouldn't … imagine what her life would be like without his friendship, his love. She was confident he loved her. It was why he was running scared. It didn't hurt any less, however.

Belle hated feeling so bereft, so unsure of her future. But how could she reclaim her fate as her own if he wouldn't come home?

*.*.*

Rumpelstiltskin laid the leather bag containing his precious ingredients atop his work table, having magicked himself directly to his tower to avoid having a run in with his little maid before he could clean himself up. He still reeked of seaweed and sulfur. The mother dragon hadn't been at all pleased to find him in her lair, despite his intentions to only take some of the eggshell from her new hatchlings and leave her young alone.

He was sure his hair was still smoking, not to mention the sad singed state of his pants. The mermaid he'd had to deal with next hadn't been much more amiable. He could have obtained the two rare blue pearls from the shores of Neverland himself, but why risk a confrontation with his loathsome father? Sending Adina after them should have been the better choice.

His fingers rose to caress the sides of his neck, just below his ear. He could still feel the gills, though the spell to enable him to breathe underwater had worn off some time ago. Silly fish, making him accompany her. Mermaids could travel across realms, just as the hatter could with the use of his hat. He now wished he'd have just sent Jefferson to do his bidding instead of having to give up one of his treasures – a rare golden harp - to the flighty fish.

He set one of the pearls aside and caressed the other between his fingertips. He'd only needed one for the spell. The other would adorn his lady's alabaster throat the night of the ball. All he needed to do was make a setting for the pearl, and it would be the perfect complement for Belle's dress. He knew there was an unlimited supply of jewelry stored away in his treasure room. Bracelets, earrings, pendants and the like, but he wanted this piece to be special. He smiled wistfully as he stared down at what would be a token of his love for her, wondering if she would see it as such.

The Dark One, for once, was silent as Rumpelstiltskin trudged down the stairs from his tower. He no longer felt threatened by the spinner's feelings for the girl. It was doubtful she loved him enough to break his curse with a kiss. Who in their right mind would love something as vile and evil as the Dark One? He'd argued with his host, hopefully convincing him, but Rumpelstiltskin was a sneaky bastard. He'd learned how to hide his feelings from the demon, so there was still that niggling doubt of how he truly felt about the girl. Surely, he wasn't stupid enough to give up his power. Not for something as fleeting as love.

Rumpelstiltskin hurried through his bath, anxious to see Belle. He'd had quite a bit of time to search his feelings over the past three days, and he knew he owed her an apology. For the first time in centuries – very long centuries – he'd felt happiness … because of her. He couldn't give it up now. He wouldn't give her up now. He didn't bother with his normal vestments; the stiff dragon hide jacket or a waistcoat. Instead, the hour being late, he donned a soft cotton tunic and trousers. Perhaps after he apologized, he could convince her to curl up on the settee in the library and read to him.

Very quietly, he eased open the door to the library, hoping not to startle her, and at the same time gauge her mood. She, no doubt, had to be more than a little peeved with him. Disappointment made his face fall and his brow wrinkle in a frown. Where was she? It wasn't like her to not be in the library at this hour. From the thin layer of dust on the coffee table, and the cold embers in the hearth – which was never dormant – he could tell she hadn't been there in a long while. What would keep her from her sanctuary? He wondered if she'd even seen her dress. With a flourish of his elegant hand, he cast a protective spell over it to keep it dust free before he left the library.

He checked the kitchen and the great hall, all to no avail. How much damage had he caused his girl with his refusal to talk to her? Had she decided she'd had enough and left the castle? The mage felt his chest constrict with panic. She couldn't have left. He took the stairs two at a time, and rushed down the corridor to her room, praying he was wrong. Please let me be wrong. Please let her be there. He'd never intruded on her there. It was hers, just as the library was, the only places in his castle where he'd never intrude without her permission.

Yet, the fear of losing her pushed those boundaries aside and he barreled through her bedroom door, the lock splintering away from the jamb. Belle shot up in bed, the duvet clasped to her chest as she let out a piercing scream. "Rumpelstiltskin!"

"Belle … " he breathed in relief. "Y-You're here."

Her eyes flashed hotly as she threw aside the duvet and bounded to her feet, crossing the plush carpet to face him. "And just where else am I supposed to be?" she cried, her heart racing.

"Er – "

"You've broken my door! I –" Her angry tirade was cut short as he pulled her into his arms, crushing her to him. Her brow furrowed in confusion as he buried his face against the crook of her neck, his grip tightening about her waist. "Are you alright?" she asked gently, though what he had to be upset about she had no clue.

"I thought you were gone. I couldn't … I couldn't find you in the library, or the kitchen … the hall, and I thought …" He trembled, his throat burning with unshed tears. "I'm sorry, Belle … I'm so sorry."

Belle slid her hands up his chest, her fingers delving into the soft curls at his nape. "Stop, Rum, I'm here. You're not going to frighten me away. I wouldn't leave you," she whispered, the heat of her anger dissipating, her breath tickling the shell of his ear and making him shiver. Hope flared in her breast as he surrendered to her, and the hurt and anger she'd lived with for days drained away.

"I wouldn't blame you if you did. I was awful to you the other day … when you did nothing but offer me honesty," he murmured, leaning back so she could see the remorse in his soft amber gaze. He ignored her squeak of protest as he lifted her into his arms and carried her back to the bed. "I apologize for disturbing you. I didn't mean to barge in like I did, but – "

"I understand. You were afraid." She tightened her arms about his neck. "It's alright to be afraid sometimes, Rum."

She scooted back against the headboard when he set her gently upon the bed, but she refused to let him go, reaching out to take his hands and pull him down to sit beside her.

"Belle, I shouldn't," he said, refusing to meet her gaze. He shouldn't be this close to her, not as skewed as his emotions had been the past few days. He shouldn't even be in her bedroom at all. "This isn't at all appropriate."

"Neither is living here alone with you, darling. Yet, that hasn't stopped us, so get over it," she snarked, lifting her chin defiantly. She held onto his hands with one of hers and pressed the fingertips of the other against his lips. "No, I don't want to fight, Rum … please. I just want to talk. Don't you?"

Rumpelstiltskin bobbed his head in agreement. "I suppose we should. It's why I came looking for you." He didn't want to admit, though, how much her endearment meant to him. "I want to apologize for the way I behaved … and believe me, Belle, it's been a long time since I apologized to anyone." He felt his cheeks warm. "It's been … so long since I've cared enough about anyone to apologize."

She squeezed his hands. "It's your own fault, y'know. You're so afraid of being hurt … and I'm not trying to belittle that, but you let your fear keep you from letting anyone see how wonderful you are. You only let people see the Dark One instead of the gentle man beneath." She reached up to smooth her fingers over the lines knitting his brow. "Deny it all you like, Rum, but I see you … and I like what I see very much. Though you might want to curb that temper of yours."

He bit down hard on his tongue to hold his emotions in check, but his voice was still rough. "I don't deserve you."

"Pfft," she scoffed. "Yes, you do."

A lazy grin split his face at her insistence. "When I believed you'd betrayed me; I went to confront Regina. I made her tell me what she'd done to you that day. I needed to know if she'd cast some sort of enchantment over you."

Belle gasped, raising one hand to cover her mouth, her eyes widening. "You didn't kill her, did you?"

"No. I wanted to, but … no." He sighed. "I do wonder over your reaction, though, dearie. She set out to deceive you. It very well could have led to dire consequences if you had indeed tried to break my curse. The Dark One could have taken over and harmed you. Why would you fear for her?"

She shook her head. "Not her, Rumpel. If it's anyone I fear for, it's you. Do you think I want to see another black mark on your soul?"

He leaned forward and pressed his brow to hers, his throat tight. "It's a bit late to be worried about the darkness of my soul, Belle. Need I remind you of who I am?"

"No, I'm well aware," she returned dryly, nuzzling his nose with hers as she relished his closeness. "So … what did you do to her?"

"I questioned her, nothing more … well, I might have threatened her a wee bit."

"I can well imagine."

"Tossed her around, but nothing which would truly harm her. She assured me she had only offered you advice on how to break my curse." He leaned back, breaking the contact and averting his gaze. "She suggested I come home to talk to you."

Belle arched a brow and crossed her arms over her chest. "And it took you three days to return?"

He winced. "I … um … I needed time to think. I also procured the other items on the list, so we'll be ready when the time is right to cast the spell."

She yawned and shifted on the mountain of pillows at her back. "Did you get them?" she asked sleepily.

"I did," he murmured quietly, not wanting to disturb the relative peace which had settled over them. "I'll show you tomorrow if you'd like, but I think you need to sleep, dearie."

Belle covered his hand with hers. "Stay with me."

"Belle …"

"I missed you, Rumpel. Stay with me," she pleaded, holding his gaze.

Rumpelstiltskin could see how much it meant to her, and if he were honest with himself, he would admit he'd missed her too. "I really shouldn't."

"And I think you really should," she argued, tugging on his hand. "You've deprived me of your company for days, master. I'm feeling mighty neglected right now."

He placed one knee upon the mattress, his body responding to the seductive lure of her sweet voice. "So demanding," he tsked. "Wherever is my little Belle, and what have you done with her, siren?"

Belle smiled, and moved over to make room for him. Her hands slid over his chest, her fingers fisting in his tunic as she pulled him closer. He gave in, his arms wrapping tightly about her as he settled at her side and pulled the duvet over them. "You must obey," she giggled, "and reassure me of your continued affections."

Rumpelstiltskin pulled her flush with his body, the Dark One purring at the back of his mind, greatly pleased with her display of dominance. "Cheeky wench," he crooned against her throat, pressing a kiss to her pulse point.

She sighed blissfully as he peppered her face with slow exacting kisses meant to assure rather than arouse. "Mmm, I'll take that as a yes." She yawned again as he tucked her head beneath his chin, his hands rubbing languorous circles over her back. "Rum?"

"Yes, dearie?" he asked, unable to remember the last time his mind had allowed him to find such peace as he'd found in her arms.

"My gown is beautiful. Thank you for making it for me. I'll be so proud to have you escort me to the queen's ball."

He pressed a kiss to her crown, feeling an unmistakable rush of warmth to his heart, as well as pride in her praise. "Aye, dearest, now sleep. We'll talk more tomorrow."

"Stay with me tonight … even after I fall asleep. It will be lovely to wake in your arms," she sighed.

He tightened his arms about her. "Rabid griffons couldn't tear me away."

A/N: See! I promised I wouldn't keep them apart for too long. Yay! Back to the fluff! Next time: Rumpel helps Belle dress for the ball :D Hope you're all still enjoying the story. *hugs*