Part 10
When she is convinced that Rumplestiltskin isn't going to flee from her bedroom right after she leaves it, Belle makes her way to the generous bathroom right next to her chamber.
Expecting Rumplestiltskin to change into something more comfortable for the night while she is doing the same thing, she closes the door behind her. The gorgeous, flawlessly white nightgown which he gave her soon after her arrival at the Dark Castle is laying just where she left it, as if it has been waiting there during the past few days in the hope that she would return and wear it once more.
Belle quickly goes through her usual routine, her excitement rising at the prospect of spending the night with Rumplestiltskin in her bed with each second that passes.
It's another reason why she'd rather be with him than any of the so-called princes and knights she was destined to marry. The notion of being in the bed of such men always filled her with a vague feeling of fear and uneasiness. There's none of that trepidation with Rumplestiltskin. He is the alleged monster, the supposed beast... and he'll respect her wishes just to sleep. More than that, she's convinced that when they'll actually do something, he'll be careful and gentle in his passion, putting her comfort before anything else.
She returns to her chamber a few minutes later, ready for bed and expecting to find Rumplestiltskin in the same state. He turns out to be sitting exactly where she left him, looking as if he isn't persuaded yet at all that this is actually happening. It's the only one of his looks that she's really getting quite tired of.
Before she can ask him why he hasn't changed his clothes, his eyes go wider than ever before, his mouth actually falling open. Although flattered at his obvious approval of her appearance, Belle panics slightly, running her hands over the nightgown she just put on to make sure that it is indeed barely more revealing than the clothes she usually wears.
When her fingers brush against her long curls, she realizes why he is staring at her like this, as if he has barely seen her before and as if he can devour her by merely looking at her. Without thinking, she has removed the pins from her hair, allowing it to fall all the way down, almost to her waist. She does so every night, but he has never been there to see it.
Judging from the way he is drinking in the sight of her, causing the fluttering inside of her to increase only more, there won't be any night from now on at which he won't see her like this, becoming like a husband in this sense as well.
Belle steps towards him, not entirely sure what to do but knowing that the ten yards which separate them are ten too many. As soon as she is within reach, he locks his arms around her, pulling her closer until he can bury his face against her cotton-clad stomach.
Her eyebrows rise at the unfamiliar display of affection, but she is quick to twine her hands in his hair, stroking it lovingly as he clings to her like she is all he ever needs in his life.
Belle closes her eyes, vividly recalling that she had no idea that things would turn out so perfectly a mere day ago. So much has happened since then and she is beyond grateful to whatever force has led both of them to this moment, back into one another's life and heart.
Several minutes of enjoyable closeness pass, but he doesn't look any more inclined to let go off her than he was right after taking hold of her so tightly.
"Come to bed, Rumplestiltskin."
Much as she enjoys standing there with him pressed against her like this, they can't get any sleep or proper rest this way.
He lets go off her with obvious reluctance, but his earlier hesitancy to share a bed with her appears to have mostly disappeared.
Casting a look over her shoulder to make sure that he is really following her, Belle finds that he indeed remains right behind her when she steps towards the large bed in the middle of the room.
Only now that Rumplestiltskin is about to share it with her, she realizes just how ridiculously oversized the fourposter is. All those nights, she has lain alone in so much more space than she could ever possibly need. It's almost like she is meant to share it with him, and always has been. One day, she'll ask him whether he was thinking along the same lines when he gave it to her.
He falters when they are right in front of the bed. Hoping that he'll simply follow if she gives the right example, Belle pulls the blankets back and gets into the bed, moving over to the other side with as much gracefulness as she can. She usually stumbles right in, but with Rumplestiltskin's heavy gaze on her that isn't very appealing.
She pats invitingly on the empty part of the mattress at her side, not knowing any more words which she might use to encourage him to join her.
The gesture appears to suffice, for he slowly crosses the last distance to the bed. There is a wariness in his steps and unadulterated hope in his eyes, and her mood brightens when he lifts his knee onto the bed, having fully decided at last that he'll actually get in bed with her.
Only then he appears to notice that he is still in his leathers and silks. Before Belle can propose for him to change in the same room as she just did, or before she can avert her gaze, there is a whisper of magic and a cloud of purple smoke. When the haze disappears, Rumplestiltskin is exactly where he was a moment ago, his familiar breeches and shirt replaced by nightclothes, the black silk covering him from neck to toe.
It's odd to see him in anything but his regular clothing, but not unpleasantly so in the slightest. Belle doesn't have the chance to consider it though, to admire him, for he slides between the blankets quickly once he is suitably dressed at last.
Despite all the enthusiasm he earlier displayed, Rumplestiltskin remains laying on the edge of the bed, leaving plenty of space between them. Although they are indeed technically sharing a bed now, this isn't exactly what she had in mind when she suggested to remain together at night.
Timidly, she scoots back to him, not sure how to proceed in order to achieve what she has in mind. In all honesty, she isn't even entirely certain what she actually wants, only knowing that she longs to be as close to him as she can be.
Rumplestiltskin watches her with dark, heavy eyes, not moving to close the distance between them, but neither making any effort to stop her.
She halts when she is within touching distance, not allowing herself to think how silly they must look, all but perched on the edge of the large bed, leaving the majority of all available space unoccupied.
That's not the only thing which seems ridiculous to her. For all her desire to be near to him at night, to sleep with his arms around her, this turns out to be easier said than done. Now that she is in front of him, laying on her side to face him as he rests on his side as well. His head is propped up on his arm and his eyes are never leaving her, and her total lack of practical knowledge prevents her from taking the last measures required to reach her goal.
She presumed that Rumplestiltskin would know what to do, since he hinted that he has been married at one point of his life. Belle doesn't know anything about his marriage except for that he lost his wife, but he told her that they had a son together. Surely he remembers at least some of the experiences he had back then... certainly he still knows to some extent how a man and a woman can be comfortable in bed together, even if they don't do anything together which might result in the eventual birth of a child?
"Do you have any... preferences?" Belle asks, not able to think of a better way to prompt him into action, to persuade him at least to give her instructions of sorts.
All he does is shake his head, that sad expression which she only knows too well by now returning to his face.
"This is... new to me. The woman I was married to was never keen on sharing her bed with me. I usually slept in another room."
Belle hardly believes what she is hearing. It's not his apparent lack of experience in such situations, but the things he mentions of his wife which shock her. She doesn't know what Rumplestiltskin was like when he was married - whether he already was the man he is today - but it is simply dreadful to hear that his wife avoided him the way she seemingly did... and that he can't actually bring himself to refer to the woman as his wife. It's becoming increasingly clear to Belle why he is so very reluctant to believe that anyone might genuinely care for him... why he keeps wondering how anyone can love him.
"Then we'll just have to find out about this together."
She gives him a careful smile, hoping that he can see the bright side of the situation as well. Neither of them really knows what they are doing and they aren't capable of instructing one another, but it doesn't seem to be such a bad thing to her any longer that they'll simply have to find their own way.
Belle supposes that there perhaps isn't even a 'right' and a 'wrong' when it comes to such matters. And if there is, she might not necessarily agree with the classifications. More than ever before, she is skeptical of the supposed difference between 'good' and 'bad', finding that such distinctions can't be made in matters of the heart.
After all, her relationship with Rumplestiltskin would be frowned upon and disapproved of by anyone and anything. Yet she has never been happier than while living with him... when his arms are around her and her lips are against his cheek, or any other part of him which she might reach.
He nods in approval, much to her relief. By now certain that he agrees with this, she moves slightly closer to him, not discouraged when he tenses slightly the second her arm brushes his.
Both of them are lying on their back at this point and although she has no knowledge of these matters, she can tell that she won't get the nearness she craves this way. Belle experimentally moves to her side again, smiling when she can look properly upon her True Love, his features almost uncharacteristically soft in the candlelight.
The thought that she would gladly look at him like this all night gives her an idea. Heedful of his dark and still slightly nervous eyes, Belle slowly moves closer to him, until her front is resting lightly against his side. Gesturing at him to lift his head, a request he fulfills without reluctance, she places a thick pillow beneath it. When he lays down again, he is just as comfortably as he was before, but his face is angled towards her.
When she makes herself comfortable at his side, she is still able to see most of his face whenever she looks up, allowing both of them to easily make sure that this is truly happening in case such an urge may arise throughout the night. Belle has no doubt that it will.
His arm is at his side, preventing her from snuggling against him as much as she'd like. Rumplestiltskin moves it out of the way before she can encourage him herself to do so. His arm hovers close to her for a moment, before he settles it ever so lightly on her waist with only some hesitance.
She beams at him at the increased contact, feeling immediately more comfortable than she already did. The barrier between them no longer there, Belle moves closer to him, until her front is pressed pleasantly against his side. It causes him to tense, just for a moment. But soon enough, he is smiling back at her, slightly increasing his hold on her waist.
"Good night, Rumplestiltskin," she whispers, delighted to be able to say this to him in such a manner.
"Good night, Belle."
His tone makes very clear that he has longed for this just as much as she has.