Part 8
"Would you like to go to your room?" Rumplestiltskin asks after they have sat together on the couch for a long while, never letting go off one another. "You've had a long day. You might like to rest now, or spend some time without me."
"I'd prefer to stay with you," Belle replies. "It's lovely just to sit like this."
"It is," he agrees, his tone one of wonder. Rumplestiltskin may still find it difficult to believe that they are actually together like this, but he definitely enjoys it as much as she does. "And this might make it even better."
A cloud of purple smoke appears at the tips of his fingers. When it clears, he is holding a familiar book. Belle gasps in delight when she recognizes it as the one she carefully selected from his library just a few days ago, the one which has been waiting on her nightstand for her to get started with it ever since.
She reaches for the book, jumping on the chance to read in his company. She supposes that she'll read at his side like she used to, only this time there doesn't have to be any distance between them and he won't have to pretend that he's spinning instead of constantly looking at her from the corners of his eyes.
He hands the book to her, but doesn't let go off it when she takes it. She looks back at him, raising an questioning eyebrow, which drops immediately at the expression of shyness on his face. It fascinate her that he can still look so uncertain, despite everything they have already experienced together - and the never ending confirmation that both of them enjoy these things equally.
"Maybe you'd like me to read to you?"
She nods wordlessly, overcome with yet more love for this most unusual man. His proposal is delightful, and so much more than that. Her father may have reluctantly allowed her to read, if only because he couldn't bear denying her anything that was in his power to give her, but Belle knew better than to expect the same from her former fiancé.
Indeed, just about any man would have bristled at the notion of her going through books like she enjoys so very much, both for entertainment and for study. But the person at her side approves of it, encourages it. Not simply because he knows how much it means to her and because her happiness is of such importance to him, but also because he appreciates her curiosity and thirst for knowledge.
Belle notices that tears are rolling down her cheeks only when he makes a noise of distress and reaches for her. His movement falters before his fingers are against her skin, betraying that he is still reluctant to touch her and still isn't quite sure how to act around her, especially not in moments such as these.
"I won't insist," Rumplestiltskin utters, mistaking her tears and silence for rejection. "It's just that I imagined... Well, no matter. I'll leave you to it, then. Some peace and quiet to read... alone... of course that's what you have in mind."
"Please don't go," she manages as she grabs his hand, wanting to make as clear to him as she can that his presence is the only thing she truly wants. "I'm not sad or upset... just a bit overwhelmed."
"But you are... weeping," he mutters, studying her intently, as if the notion that one can cry from sheer happiness is completely unknown to him.
"It seems I am, yes," she replies, smiling at him through her tears. "It must be because I have you now."
Rumplestiltskin is puzzled by her words, as if he can't believe that she is truly happy to be with him like this. But then he gives her a tentative smile and gets somewhat closer to her again.
At her firm nod, he brings his fingers to her cheeks, brushing the tears away. Only more of them appear at the most tender of gestures, especially when his lips join his hands in his determination to utilize as much of himself as he can to free her from the evidence of what he initially perceived as sadness.
His lips and fingertips linger long after the salty liquid is gone, until she is smiling at the lightest stirs of him against her. Only when he appears to be entirely satisfied that her tears have disappeared, he slowly withdraws from her.
"I'd love for you to read to me," she says, just so there can be no doubt about it. "It's just that... well, I haven't started with it yet, but it looks like a complex and... detailed tome. I wouldn't want to bore you with it."
The look on his face leaves no doubt that there is no such thing, that there is nothing that could possibly bore him as long as she is with him.
The way they end up cuddled on the couch together, her head and hand on his chest and the book propped up on his stomach, is fluent and effortless. Belle supposes that this is because she isn't the only one who has been secretly thinking of sharing her favorite pastime with her True Love.
Rumplestiltskin himself is surprisingly adapt at holding her pleasantly while both of them can read the book at the same time. The only explanation must be that they have been exactly like this plenty of times in his mind's eye just as much as her own.
He runs his fingers lovingly over the ancient pages of the worn yet well-preserved spine. The movement takes Belle's breath away; not just because it is easy to imagine his fingertips sliding over her own skin instead of the smooth leather, but also because he touches the old tome with as much respect and joy as she would herself.
"Agrabah," he mutters, more to himself than to her, as he takes in the words on the fist page.
"Have you been there?" she asks, recognizing his almost reminiscing tone.
"Yes. Not very often, but I have visited that faraway land several times."
She doesn't need to ask in order to know that there are many, many intriguing stories that he can tell her about those travels. But not this time, not with the book of her choice opened in front of them.
"I'll take you there one day."
He speaks almost as in an afterthought, focusing his attention on the words on the page, but Belle temporarily almost forgets about the book as his words sink in, a shiver of both excitement and utter contentment going through her at those words.
The possibility of accompanying him on his travels hasn't occurred to her, if only because she associates his travels with his work, the dark magic that he doesn't want her to know of, let alone witness.
But Rumplestiltskin can do whatever he wants, travel for whatever purpose he desires. That includes taking her to far, impossible destinations, just for the sake of it, just because she would find great joy in seeing the world after all.
She wouldn't dare asking it of him - not yet, at any rate - but it's already clear to her that she doesn't need to. More content than ever before, Belle makes herself more comfortable, finding that her True Love's chest is in fact an excellent pillow.
Rumplestiltskin makes a noise of unmistakable enjoyment before he clears his throat and begins to read, his calm and mesmerizing voice taking her to the earliest history of Agrabah.
Although Belle is intuitively quite sure that he isn't using magic, he might as well be. Hour after hour passes as he reads one chapter after the next, his tone so vivid and enthusiastic that she can see the words come to life in her mind, even more than they ever do when she reads herself.
Fascinating as the development of Agrabah is, Belle isn't entirely focused on the narration alone. Her current surroundings, from the comfort and joy of being snuggled against Rumplestiltskin to the warmth of the roaring fire, are too perfect to be taken for granted.
She could stay like that forever, and she probably would have chosen not to move at all for a very long time if that were possible, but she is exhausted by today's events. Her eyes becoming heavy, she can't hold back a deep and rather unflattering yawn.
She covers her open mouth with her hand, having to shrug off the fingers that are absently caressing her arm to do so. Rumplestiltskin simply continues to read, as if not noticing either her movement or the tiredness that caused it.
Belle is grateful for it, not wanting him to interrupt the quiet perfection by stopping with his narration. Breathing in deeply several times in an attempt to feel less sleepy, she devotes all her focus to the story and his voice once more.
Half an hour later however she can barely keep her attention to the story any longer. She is dozing even as Rumplestiltskin tells of the grueling wars between Agrabah and its neighboring countries. Much as she hates to admit it, going to bed is the only thing she wants right now.
More than their current comfort, she longs for the mattress, blankets and pillows which are doubtlessly awaiting her in her bedroom, each yet softer than the other. Still, she is quite certain that even the cot in the dungeon where she spent her first few nights in the Dark Castle will suffice at this point.
He is still reading though and she rests her hand on his to pause him, gently coaxing him to close the book.
"Thank you, Rumplestiltskin. I enjoyed that very much. I hope you'd like to read for me again after today, but I'd like to retire to bed now."
"Already?" he asks, not managing to sound as surprised as he pretends to be. "It's not all that late, is it?"
"I don't know," Belle replies, although she is quite certain that at least several hours have passed since he began to read, given the number of pages he has turned already. "Either way, I'm tired and I'm afraid that I'll just fall asleep here if I don't go to bed soon."
He raises an eyebrow at her words, indicating that he sees no problem whatsoever in that. Belle can't deny that the notion of falling asleep right there and then in Rumplestiltskin's arms is a tempting one, but her body is already starting to protest the current lack of a large flat surface after having walked countless miles during the past days.
"I'll be glad to read for you some more. It wouldn't be a problem if you were to fall asleep. I can always bring you back to your room if..."
He trails off at her doubtlessly shocked expression. But her daze is not due the forbiddingness of the images he evokes within her mind; far from it.
It's only too easy and delightful to imagine him picking up her sleeping body, yet more careful in this state than he usually is with her, to carry her reverently in his arms to her room. He would sit down on the edge of her bed and lower her gently onto the mattress, brushing away a stray lock of curls from her forehead...
Belle shakes her head, aware that the difference between reality and fantasy is already blurring. No matter how wickedly lovely it would be to have him carry her to her bedroom, right now she needs a good night's sleep. That way, she can start the next day - the beginning of her new life - with as much energy and enthusiasm as she could possibly need.
"I'll read you another chapter," he says, taking her silence for approval.
"Lovely as that sounds, I'd really prefer to go to bed now."
"Can't I read one more chapter before you go?"
He sounds almost like a child, pleading his parent for one more story, a few more minutes out of bed.
"You can read for me again tomorrow. You can read the entire evening... or all day, if you'd like. It would be lovely."
"Just one more page?"
"I'm sorry Rumplestiltskin, but I really want to go to sleep. I've been walking for three days; I'm very tired. I shall be quite useless tomorrow if I don't get some proper rest soon."
Even as she talks, she has to suppress another yawn. There's no stopping it and she places an apologizing hand in front of her mouth once more, until it closes again at last.
"I understand," he says, the evidence of her exhaustion undeniable for him as well.
"You can read to me again as soon as I wake up in the morning, all right?"
Belle doesn't see why he is pushing this, why he is so very intent on reading to her as much as he can.
But then she goes to untangle herself from him and sees the look on his face. Rumplestiltskin is forlorn, looking almost just as lonely, as desperate, as he did this afternoon, before he was convinced of her return.
That makes it easy for her to understand after all why he doesn't want to stop reading to her. It isn't about the reading as such, not at all. He is simply looking for a reason to stall, to be with her for as long as he can. She isn't entirely certain why he would want to do such a thing, but she has the strong suspicion that it isn't simply about spending as much time with her as he can now that she is back.
Indeed, Belle is quite certain that he doesn't want to let go off her now simply because he won't believe that she'll actually be there in the morning. She doesn't know whether he fears that she'll leave or that her return was nothing but a trick of his imagination. Either way, it's clear to her that he at least partly believes that he'll lose her again the moment that she leaves for her bedroom.
"I'm not going anywhere," she promises, brushing a kiss against his temple.
He closes his eyes, savoring her touch as if it'll be the last, and he hardly looks convinced. If she knew what was going on in that head of his, she might be able to make an end to whatever worries are bothering him. But the truth is that she can't begin to understand what exactly is tormenting him so, what demons are lingering in his mind.
Belle imagines that he has slept as little as she has during the past few nights. She is certain that he won't get any sleep tonight at all if she were to leave him now, pacing the Dark Castle throughout the night instead of getting the rest even he probably needs.
That makes the decision a very easy one to make.
"Come with me," she says, standing up from the couch and encouraging him to do the same.
He hesitantly follows her example after a few long seconds. Except for blinking with disbelief, he is motionless as he stands there, as if captured by some sort of spell.
She takes his hand between her own to make her point clearer, guiding him out of the hall and towards the nearest flight of stairs. After all what has happened, there is no way that she is going to let him out of sight and that she is going to spend one more moment alone, wishing with all her heart that her True Love would be with her.
The further they get from the main hall, the less responsive he gets. Belle is not deterred. She simply pulls harder on his arm, all but dragging Rumplestiltskin to her bedroom.