Gold sauntered slowly into Game of Thorns, noting the cool emptiness of the shop. He eyed the blooms displayed in plastic buckets around the floor, his cane tapping against the tiles as he walked. The air was heady with the scent of flowers and greenery, and he was reminded fleetingly of his own gardens in the Enchanted Forest, the vine-draped bowers and wrought-iron sculptures where fragrant honeysuckle grew, its perfume intense in the moonlight. He had never got to see Belle in the summer back home, had never strolled with her amongst the lush growth or tucked a blossom behind her ear. Their past in the Enchanted Forest was all autumn and winter, hinting at the spring to come. He longed for the heady days of summer with her, walks in the sunshine and long, warm nights together in his woodland cabin or curled up on the back porch at home. His thoughts were interrupted by Moe French stomping into the shop from the back room, buckets in hand containing lilies and irises. Moe slammed them down on the floor.
"You!" he snapped belligerently. "What the hell do you want? Get out of my shop!"
"My, my," said Gold mildly. "Turning away paying customers, are we?" He looked around the empty shop. "You must be doing better than I anticipated. Perhaps it's time we reviewed your rent." The sentence ended with a hint of menace, and Moe bristled.
"What do you want?" he asked, a little more reasonably.
"I'm here to buy flowers," said Gold, with a smile. "You see, in addition to our reunion, it's a special night for Belle and myself – sort of an anniversary. Four years, since we first – ", he spread his fingers, palm upwards, the smile widening. "Well, that's neither here nor there, is it? I want four dozen red roses." He picked up one of the red-bloomed flowers from a pail at his feet. "These look adequate."
Moe's jaw clenched, and his voice was cold fury. "If you think I'm gonna sell you flowers so you can use them to seduce my daughter, you're out of your mind!"
Still smiling, Gold lifted the rose and gently ran his forefinger over the tips of the soft, fragrant lobes. He raised the flower to his face, his lips brushing the red velvet petals as he inhaled deeply. When he lifted his eyes, Moe was trembling, his face a mixture of anger, revulsion and fear. Gold delicately kissed the rose petals, his lips pulling at them gently, and touched his teeth with the tip of his tongue, his smile widening, eyebrows twitching. A dull, red flush was spreading upwards from Moe's neck, mottling his cheeks.
"Oh, I don't need flowers," Gold said pleasantly. "But I find that I like to surround her with beautiful things. So. Four dozen, if you please."
Without a word, his face taut with anger, Moe lifted the pail of roses up onto the desk and began counting them out. When he was nearing the total Gold held up his hand with a grin.
"Oh, and if you could count out another half-dozen and put them aside," he asked. "I thought I'd pull them apart and scatter the petals on the bed." He smiled conspiratorially. "Creates the right ambience, wouldn't you agree?" He was enjoying watching the changing colours in Moe's face, and reached into his pocket, pulling out a wad of bills and starting to peel some off. Moe slammed the last of the flowers down and glared as he pulled them together into a bouquet.
"I don't want your money!" he spat. "I want to see my daughter! Whatever spell you have her under, let her go."
"You clearly have no idea how magic works," said Gold dryly. "I can't create love. Like it or not, she loves me. She has for a very long time. I let her go in our world. She chose to return. I'm not holding her against her will."
"Then let her come and visit me."
Gold puffed air through his teeth, exasperated. "Contrary to what you and, no doubt, everyone else thinks, I don't tell her what to do. If she chooses not to visit I can only assume it's because you keep badmouthing the man she loves. You may wish to rethink that approach if you want her back in your life."
Moe scowled at him. "I hoped you'd never come back," he said bluntly. "I hoped you'd be trapped over there, and in time she'd get over you."
"I know," said Gold mildly, and showed his teeth. "Sorry to disappoint you. But I still won't tell her to come here if she doesn't want to."
"That's my price," said Moe stubbornly. "Tell her I want to see her."
Gold inclined his head. "That I can do." He picked up the flowers, turning to go.
"You're a monster!" blurted Moe. "And one day she'll see that! There's nothing but darkness in you! You're not capable of love! There's nothing you can give her that she could ever want!"
Gold spun slowly on his heel to face Moe, his smile enigmatic.
"You know, you're so wrong, I'm not even angry at that insult," he said quietly. "Belle is my true love. That's something more powerful than any spell. And I give her everything she wants."
"You're not fit to wipe her boots!" spat Moe, and Gold's smile became self-deprecating.
"As if I need you to tell me that," he said wryly.
Belle released Rumplestiltskin's hand and walked slowly around the library again, looking more closely at the books on the shelves. She had spoken the truth; she would never be able to read all of these, even if she completely shirked her housekeeping duties, which she was certainly not about to do. He watched her, his hand still tingling slightly from her touch. Her hair shone in the candlelight like polished mahogany, dark against her pale shoulders. Her skin was smooth and flawless; he imagined how it would feel, soft as silk beneath his fingers, and hurriedly shoved the thought to the back of his mind. She was mouthing book titles to herself, her golden-yellow silk dress gleaming as she ran her forefinger over the spines of the books on the shelf in front of her. He had enjoyed her reaction to the library, and was keen to do something else for her. Fortunately, he already had a surprise planned.
"You might want to change into something more practical than that dress, dearie," he suggested. "I won't have you tripping over your skirts and injuring yourself. Who'd make the tea and break my porcelain then, hmm?"
She shot him an amused look, which seemed to see right through him.
"Well, you didn't exactly give me time to pack anything," she said dryly, and he clicked his tongue impatiently.
"Your clothes are in your room," he countered, and she straightened up, turning to face him in surprise.
"No, they're not."
He smiled widely then, and crooked his finger invitingly. "Follow me," he said softly, and strode from the room, Belle trotting in his wake, her expression confused. Once they had descended the stairs from the library, he led her across a wide landing past the main flight of marble stairs. He then turned to the right along an unfamiliar corridor and stopped outside the third door down before dropping into his elaborate bow.
"What is this?" she asked suspiciously, and he giggled, spreading his arms wide.
"Your room, of course!"
Curious, she turned the handle of the door, and gasped as she saw what lay within. She was in a large, airy room with a stone fireplace and windows that stretched from floor to ceiling, draped in deep blue velvet. The bed was carved oak, its four posts draped with more deep blue, this time silk, and its coverlet the colour of the sky. There were beautifully-patterned rugs on the polished wooden floor and chairs upholstered in gold-embroidered cloth. She rushed to the wardrobe and flung open the doors, revealing dozens of dresses in every shade and fabric, although gold, white and blue predominated. She ran her hands over the familiar gowns, tears starting in her eyes, and turned to face him. He was leaning against the door frame, smiling slightly as he watched her.
"This is my room," she said, gesturing about her, and he inclined his head.
"I believe we already established that."
"No, I mean it's my room!" she jabbed her own chest with her finger. "My room from home!"
He shrugged as if moving an entire room with its contents from one building to another leagues away was nothing. "You agreed to come with me and stay forever. I think you've been crying in the dungeons long enough. I don't want you getting homesick all the time – you might burn my crumpets or something." His eyes were sparkling with pleasure at her reaction, and she blinked back tears. She wanted to hug him again, but he was standing with his arms folded, protecting himself from a sudden attack.
"Thank you," she said earnestly. He gestured towards the fireplace, and the fire burst into life, crackling comfortingly.
"Just be sure you're up in time to make the breakfast," he said sternly, turning away. He then spun back, one finger raised. "Oh, and please only use the mirrors in this room, and nowhere else." She nodded, confused, and he disappeared. Looking around the room once more, Belle tried the door halfway down the bedroom wall and it led, as she had anticipated, to a spacious bathroom tiled in shades of blue ranging from midnight around the pedestal of her bath to powder blue towards the ceiling. She ran her hands over the marble washbasin. Even her washcloths were here, as she had left them. She spent some time wandering between the two rooms, looking at her familiar things. She felt almost too restless to sleep, but the next day would be a long one if she was to complete all the tasks she intended, and she was determined to get a decent night's sleep. Something that will be much easier in my own bed, she thought. Belle sat down at her dresser, poking through the drawers to check their contents. Everything was just as she remembered. She looked at her reflection in the mirror, her pale face framed with waves of dark hair, and sighed. For all the familiarity of her rooms, she still felt homesick, and missed her father deeply. But she had given her word, and she would keep it.
Gold relaxed backwards into the bath, fragrant bubbles bursting gently around him. The flowers were in a vase on the bedroom dresser, petals scattered on the bed; he had thought about leaving the extra half-dozen roses in the bouquet until he remembered Moe's face, and then, with a grin, had pulled them apart, wondering whether the thought of he and Belle together gave Moe sleepless nights. The champagne was chilling in an ice-bucket beside him, and he smiled as he heard the front door slam.
"Rumple?" called Belle, and he sat up, reaching for the champagne.
"Up here!" he returned, and listened to her tread on the stairs. He twisted the cork from the bottle with a satisfying pop and poured two measures, smiling again as he heard her exclamation of delight upon entering the bedroom. She put her head around the bathroom door, then came fully into the room, her eyes sparkling.
"Rough day?" she asked teasingly, upon seeing him in the tub with a glass in hand.
"Getting better." He held up another glass. "Care to join me?"
Giggling, she peeled off her clothes and stepped into the bath, sitting at the opposite end and taking the champagne from him.
"So, this is what staying in for dinner looks like," she said with a grin, and he shrugged.
"We have seafood," he said, holding up a plate of oysters and cold cooked lobster.
They ate and drank slowly, until the oyster shells were empty and the lobster was no more than a few shreds of meat and smears of lemon mayonnaise. He refilled their glasses and Belle leaned back with a sigh, sliding down so that the bubbles reached to her shoulders. She had slipped her legs either side of his, her feet stroking his hips under the water, and he put a comfortable hand on her knee.
"The flowers are beautiful," she said gently, and he smiled.
"Yes, your father does have the best ones in town," he acknowledged. She sat up in surprise.
"You went to Father?" She puffed her cheeks out. "I never thought he'd sell to you."
"Oh, he didn't want money," said Gold airily. "He wanted me to set you free from the spell I'd placed on you."
Belle's eyes narrowed. "He said what?"
"I explained that that wasn't the situation. Not sure he believed me, however."
She sighed. "So what was the price?"
"I agreed to tell you that he wants to see you." He took a drink of champagne, and she snorted.
"I'm not going back to have the same old argument with him," she snapped. "He was insufferable while you were away! If he wants to see me he needs to respect my choices."
"Well, you may find he'll come around to that," said Gold gently. He reached forward and stroked her hair back from her face. "Look, Belle, I don't care what your father thinks of me – it's probably no worse than what everyone else thinks – but I know you're unhappy about your estrangement." He brushed her cheek with his finger. "Don't hide yourself away out of loyalty to me, it's not worth it."
She settled down in the water again, sipping her drink. "I'll go and see him tomorrow," she announced, a little reluctantly, and he smiled, sitting back.
"Then that particular debt is paid."
Author's Note: Hope you're all enjoying this. I thought it was about time Rumple gave Belle some new clothes. I'm finishing up the next instalment so this should be with you soon