"Almost there," Mr. Gold said as he trudged over one last rise, Belle's arm linked through his. As the scene below unfolded, he looked over to capture the expression on Belle's face; awe, wonder, joy, innocence. Beautiful, as always.
"It's beautiful, Rumple," she said, smiling over at him.
The damp forest was painted in green and brown blotches, its density always giving it a darker feel. But here, in this little valley, sunlight seemed to have more authority. A small brook that passed through the leaves, rocks, and dirt sparkled in the sun's rays. It was definitely much brighter than the rest of the forest, which was why it had turned Mr. Gold's thoughts immediately to Belle. She was always his light in the midst of never ending darkness.
They descended into the valley carefully, as the yellow leaves were slippery. Mr. Gold held on to Belle's arm firmly, intent on catching her should she stumble in the least bit. However, they made it to the brook's edge with no incidents, and Mr. Gold carefully set the picnic basket down on a flat rock. He retrieved a thick blanket from inside and laid it on the flattest patch of ground he could find near the water.
With a sigh he sat down on the blanket, putting his cane to the side and resting with his legs straight out in front of him. Belle sat right next to him, copying his position.
"Do you know what this reminds me of?" she asked, flashing a smile that could light up the whole world.
"What would that be?"
"When you took me with you to get straw from the village." She bumped his shoulder lightly. "Do you remember?"
A scene unfolded in his mind's eye; a forest as dense as this one, a brook trickling nearby, and Belle by his side. That was what had drawn him to this place; that memory. He remembered how his insides had fluttered, how he had so badly wanted to take her hand.
"Yes, I do." He smiled at her, but then looked down and sighed. "You were right; I was a coward."
"You were afraid of letting go of your power," she stated, placing her hand on top of his.
He felt his body warm at her touch. "I said that I cared about my power more than you. But really, I was afraid of love. Of you."
"Me?" A smile tugged at her lips again. "The Dark One afraid of a little bookworm?"
"Yes," he laughed, turning his hand over to grasp hers. "All love had ever done was hurt me, and I was afraid of what it might do again."
She leaned toward him, giving him an inquisitive look. "But you're not afraid anymore."
"No." He shook his head, subconsciously closing the distance between them. "I'm not afraid."
Their lips met in a long, tender kiss, one where the world just seemed to disappear. Mr. Gold held Belle around the waist, while he felt her hands in his hair, pressing them ever closer.