VIII

"What fresh hell is this?!" Rumpelstiltskin fumed as they merged onto the road leading into Avonlea. It was crammed full with carriages all headed, it seemed, in the direction of the palace. He glared at Jefferson, his clear amber eyes darkening with frustration and pique. "This is all your fault, Hatter. If you hadn't insisted we take the carriage, we could have been here yesterday."

"You're lucky Dove only slammed the door in your face once instead of trying to stomp your scrawny behind into the ground for making him take her home to Avonlea. And the only reason he acquiesced to your request to bring us here is because of the promise he made to Belle," Jefferson smirked, his grey eyes alight with humor. "Besides, you know Belle hates to travel by magical means. Makes her grumpy and nauseated. Do you really want her in that state? Are you forgetting about the deal you took her on and she retched all over the foyer when you got back? We do not need a repeat of that debacle."

Rumpelstiltskin curled his lips back in a sneer. "Shut it, Hatter. Y'know it's not too late to send you home."

"I am simply here for moral support," Jefferson nodded.

"Whose? Mine or Belle's?"

"Hers of course. You deserve whatever she decides to do to you."

Rumpelstiltskin rapped sharply on the roof of the carriage and yelled at Dove. "Can't you find out what is slowing us down?"

Dove grunted and replied, "I'm sorry, milord, but I won't be able to find out the reason for the delay until we are nearer to the gates of the city."

The imp sat back heavily and removed the ring from his pocket, deciding it would be in his best interests to ignore his traveling companions. He just wanted to get to his Belle with all haste. They'd been separated for far too long as it was. Yes, it was all his fault, he acknowledged, but that didn't make him suddenly acquire the virtue of patience. He caressed the diamond ring he'd fashioned for Belle with the pad of his thumb and smiled. It was icy cold to the touch and if he investigated its depths, he could see the faint pink swirl of the spell held within.

It had been a complex spell, but hopefully it would work. The diamond had had to be imbued with the potion and sealed with the spell and then shrunk to fit the setting in the gold band he'd fashioned for her from his own gold thread. If he hadn't made any mistakes, the blood spell would prevent the power of true love from interacting with his curse and he'd be able to share a kiss with Belle without any disastrous ramifications. It had to be this diamond, it was the strongest of its kind and already imbued with magical properties. If anything would be able to counter the magic of true love's kiss, this would.

Rumpelstiltskin was still in awe his precious girl felt so strongly about him. He was filled with darkness, yet she saw light. She'd found the man he'd been so long ago and coaxed him into being once more. And what had he done? Tossed her away as if she were week old rubbish.

He would beg, he would grovel, and he would plead if it was necessary. Anything at all to have her back at his side, chained to him forever once more. But this time the chains would be of love instead of servitude. If he could only convince her, he would give Belle her heart's desire, anything, everything, within his power, she would have it. "Have we even moved in the last five minutes?!"

Dove took that question as a personal insult to his driving. "I'm doing the best I can," he shouted back, raising his voice to be heard. Jefferson dropped his head against the back of the seat and stuffed his knuckles in his mouth, biting down to stop the laughter bubbling to his lips.

"We're never going to get there!" the Dark One pouted.

Jefferson raised a brow and wiped the moisture from his eyes. "You are such a child."

"One more word, Hatter, and you'll be walking the remainder of the way," Rumpelstiltskin warned.

It was another forty-five minutes before they were close enough to the gates for Dove to ask one of the guards about the traffic snarl. Rumpelstiltskin knew this because his pocket watch was open in his hand and he was glancing down at it every minute or so. There was no reason good enough for him, now that he was so close to Belle and her home. Once again, Dove's deep baritone drifted in through the carriage window. "It seems they're holding the annual ball at the palace to celebrate the king's birthday."

If it was possible, Rumpelstiltskin paled, his abnormal skin tone taking on a more greenish hue. Jefferson stared at him blankly before his eyes widened in alarm. "We are not dressed for a ball, Rum. They'll never let us in."

With a flourish of his hand, the Dark One provided a change of clothes for them both. Jefferson looked splendid in a midnight blue frock coat, leather breeches and high boots, a pristine white shirt with a gold waistcoat and a snowy cravat at his throat. Rumpelstiltskin chose for himself black leather breeches, high boots, a gold frock coat, crimson waistcoat, white poet shirt and the crimson cravat embroidered with a gold dragon Belle had made for him. He felt proud to wear her gift. Perhaps it would soothe a tiny portion of her anger towards him to see him wearing it.

"Of all the times for the king to have a birthday, it had to be today," he grumbled as he felt a slight tinge of fear creeping in. "I was hoping to talk to Belle privately. Now I'm going to have to face her in a ballroom full of the nobility. She's going to be more interested in schmoosing and mingling than …"

"Oh, would you stop pouting?" Jefferson huffed with exasperation.

"Out! Get out of my carriage. The walk will perhaps curb your acerbic tongue!" The Dark One railed at him, more out of nerves for what was ahead than actual anger at the hatter.

"If you're in such a hurry to face your lady, why don't you just use magic and transport yourself to her side?"

"What if she doesn't want to see me? We didn't part on the most amicable terms," he said in a voice heavily laden with guilt, replacing the watch in the pocket of his waistcoat as the carriage inched forward.

Jefferson raised his brows incredulously. "I never thought I would see the all-powerful dealmaker scared of a little slip of a girl."

"Belle is so much more and you will watch your tone when you speak of her," he growled. She might be just a slip of a girl, but she was his and he loved her more than his life, more than his power, and he was determined to win her back. "If you can't be more respectful, I will turn you into a snail and deposit you in the palace gardens," he hissed.

Jefferson didn't say another word until Dove dropped them off in the palace courtyard. The fireworks were about to begin, and he didn't want to miss a moment of it.

*.*.*

Belle sat next to her father on a throne not much smaller than the king's on the raised dais in the ballroom, her features schooled into a mask of polite gentility. She accepted the flute of champagne from Gaston and smiled sweetly at him. But she only had one thought on her mind … just how very bored she was with the whole affair. She smoothed her left hand over her skirts, caressing the silk absently. She was the picture of the perfect princess and she couldn't have cared less. Her father had looked at her approvingly when she'd joined him in the receiving line at the beginning of the evening, her petite form swathed in a ball gown of crimson and gold silk.

It had only occurred to her after her last fitting that she had unintentionally chosen Rumpelstiltskin's own signature colors to wear. She wondered if she would ever be rid of his influence. Doubtful, she thought with a sigh. As long as he possessed her heart, she would never be free. She would be doomed to a life of loneliness and heartache and the thought just made her more determined to get on with her life and try to find happiness in helping her father rule their small kingdom.

She'd been forced to spend the entire afternoon with her father and their minister of finance going over the books. Her opinion of the man? He was a complete idiot and needed to be replaced. She would have to spend the entirety of the next week correcting several large mistakes he'd made, and she wasn't looking forward to the prospect. In the time she had spent at the Dark Castle with Rumpelstiltskin, and her father despairing of ever seeing her again, he'd made Gaston his heir. It was time her friend learned more of his future role as king and took more responsibility for their coffers. If she was going to have to endure a week of crunching numbers, then he would have to find a way to endure it along with her. Her father hadn't been the least bit pleased to discover his minister wasn't capable of the task to which he'd been appointed, and he'd spent another hour or so discussing a replacement for him.

Belle watched the ballroom fill as more and more guests arrived from neighboring kingdoms to wish her father happy birthday. She felt the entire kingdom deserved to join in the revelry and Maurice had indulged her when she'd had the town square transformed into a festival for those not of suitable station to attend the ball. Just as the ball room was filled with nobles partaking in food and dance, so would it be for the commoners in the village. Gaston had spread the word the festival was just another gracious act conceived by their princess.

He had been hoping their fear of her would dissipate over time. Belle didn't care. She was finding what others thought of her was of little or no consequence. There was only one man she cared for and everyone else paled in comparison. Her anger reasserted itself at the thought. She should be comfortably settled on her settee in the Great Hall of the Dark Castle, curled up with a book instead of having to force herself to be polite to superficial nobles who cared not a wit for intelligent conversation. If she had to endure one more lady expound on her prowess with an embroidery needle, she just might commit violence. That wouldn't be fair to her papa and so she ground her teeth together and resigned herself to sitting at his side.

The very least she could be thankful for was her father wasn't pressing the issue of marriage. He understood why she was refusing to marry and wasn't throwing eligible suitors in her path. Besides, who in their fear and ignorance of the Dark One, would choose to marry a woman bearing his mark? She was tainted from her association with him, no matter how innocent and chaste her time with him had been. They all believed she'd been forced to warm his bed and no amount of assurances from those who knew her could convince them otherwise. Tonight, she was grateful people thought such things about her, for it kept their guests at a distance and allowed her to dwell on her melancholy thoughts. She just couldn't bring herself to partake in such merriment when she was so utterly depressed. And that just made her all the more furious with Rumpelstiltskin.

"Belle, my darling, if I hear one more sigh out of you, I do believe I will go mad," Maurice admonished in an aside. "Go dance with Gaston, or have something to eat. You could stand to have a piece of cake … or three. You're not eating enough, and I fear you're going to expire on the spot."

A genuine smile touched her lips for the first time that evening, one which made her cerulean eyes sparkle in the candlelight. "Oh, Papa, how you do love to exaggerate." She put her champagne flute on the table next to her gilded chair and accepted the arm Gaston offered, his face blooming into a rakish grin when she accepted.

It wouldn't hurt her to share a dance with her friend, after all. She allowed him to lead her from the dais and out onto the parquet floor. His dark eyes were filled to overflowing with love and admiration for her and it made her sad. Why couldn't he find a woman worthy of his love and forget his infatuation with her? Granted, the poor girl would have to share his fascination for killing any and all manner of beasts, hunting being his only passion, but she was certain there had to be someone out there for him. That someone just didn't happen to be her.

"Have I told you how absolutely breathtaking you are this evening?" he asked, clasping her hand firmly in his and placing the other at her waist.

Belle reached behind her and moved his hand higher up onto her back, raising a brow at him. "Perhaps you would like to address your compliment to my face instead of my bosom? Then I might take it as such," she scolded gently.

He flushed a deep red and quickly raised his gaze to stare at the gleaming mischief in her eyes, realizing he'd been caught, but relieved she truly wasn't angry with him. He cleared his throat and grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, darling. I just can't remember the last time I've seen you dressed in such finery."

Belle let her mind wander as he began regaling her with a tale of his last hunting expedition with Brutus, trying to keep her smile firmly in place so as not to hurt his feelings with her disinterest as she gracefully moved across the floor with him. The mark on her neck prickled, but she ignored it as it had been doing that for days. It made her wonder if she was developing an allergic reaction to it. So lost in thought, it didn't register on her at first the hush which was beginning to spread throughout the room. She did, however notice when there was a clang of instruments and the music died a rapid and sudden death. Gaston halted their dance, but kept his arm wrapped protectively about her waist.

Her gaze moved from Gaston's ashen face to follow his gaze, now quite curious as to what had caused silence to fall across the ballroom. And then her world came crashing to a screeching halt. Jewel-bright blue eyes met overlarge amber irises filled with so much heat she had to remind herself to breathe. Her heart was beating a thunderous tattoo against her ribs and her hand rose to rest at her throat as he moved forward to take her hand in his, his lips brushing lightly over her knuckles as he dipped into a sweeping bow.

"R-Rumpel … Rum …"

*.*.*

The breath hitched in Rumpelstiltskin's chest as he took her in, his gaze sweeping her from her elegantly coiffed crown to her silk-slippered toes. She was exquisite in her finery and it didn't escape his notice she was draped in his colors, proclaiming his claim on her. He stopped to wonder if she had done it on purpose, her way of making a statement to keep her suitors at bay or if it had simply been an oversight. Heat darkened his eyes as his sweeping gaze took in her décolletage. Never had he seen so much of her flesh on display. Her seamstress needed a firm talking scolding.

He quirked a brow at the lumbering oaf who possessively clutched at her waist, wondering how upset his Belle would be if he forcibly removed the offending arm from her person. He retained the grip he had on her hand, tugging her forward, away from the knight and into the circle of his arms. "Dance with me?"

She didn't answer, but rested her hand atop his shoulder as the orchestra resumed their playing and conversations began again to mask the awkward silence. He was holding her entirely too close for propriety's sake, but she knew it would be useless to resist him. It would be all too easy to whisk her away with his magic should she deny him. And how would that look? He was Avonlea's savior, having banished the ogres with a mere sweep of his hand and saving the lives of their kingdom from certain death. If she publicly rejected him, the gossip would reach every ear and it would not bode well for the work she'd done to dispel the fear they had for him.

She felt dizzy and hot and her corset seemed to want to choke her to death. "Rum …" What was wrong with her? Her feelings were so skewed, fighting between elation he was there and wanting to club him with a mace. She couldn't form a coherent thought as he twirled her about the dance floor.

"Forgotten my name so soon, dearie?" he asked, his trilling giggle grating severely on her nerves.

And there it was, that dreaded dearie which snapped her out of the stupor which seemed to rob her of speech. "What are you doing here, Rumpelstiltskin?" she hissed, hating the blush which rose in her face and very nearly matched the color of her gown, her eyes sparking angrily.

She focused her gaze just over his right shoulder and concentrated on following the intricate steps of the dance, refusing to look up at him.

"I seem to have lost something extremely precious to me and I've come to Avonlea to collect it," he murmured softly, his voice dipping an entire octave into something warm and alluring. Nothing at all like what she had become accustomed to from him.

She purposefully missed the next step and ground her heel into his instep, smirking as he hissed in pain. She chanced a glance up into his face and nodded in satisfaction at the discomfort so evident on his sharp features. "Perhaps you should have appreciated what you had while it was still in your possession," she snapped. If he wanted to play word games, she would oblige him.

"M'Belle …"

Her nails dug painfully into his silk-clad shoulder. "No, you don't get to call me that any longer," she retorted, fighting off the fluttering in her belly as his name for her, uttered so possessively, rolled off his tongue. "You broke our deal, Rumpelstiltskin, not I."

He dipped his head, his lips coming to rest against the shell of her ear, his hot breath sending a wave of gooseflesh peppering along her skin. "And I've never regretted anything more," he whispered fervently, brushing his lips lower against the mark which stood out against her ivory skin.

She crashed into him, her soft curves molding to his lean lines as the music changed and he stopped. "W-We can't do this here. I will not have this conversation with you in the middle of the ballroom." She let him lead her to the edge of the dance floor where their path was blocked by Gaston and Brutus. They could see her obvious upset, no matter how hard she tried to hide it and they wore identical expressions of disdain for the imp who'd caused it. "Gaston, please inform Papa I will be making use of his study." Without another word, she led Rumpelstiltskin out of the ballroom, Brutus following discreetly behind them.

"What's with the shadow, love?" Rumpelstiltskin asked, nodding over his shoulder at Brutus.

Belle clenched her teeth and hurried her pace, eager to get their discussion over and done. "Brutal is my personal guard. He's also my friend. He will keep anyone away from my papa's study, so we may have privacy," she informed him, cursing him for calling her love. How dare he after what he'd put her through?

He held his tongue until the study door was closed behind them and Brutus stood guard to ensure they wouldn't be interrupted. Belle turned on her heel and slapped him for all she was worth, her hand stinging and her chest heaving as her rage bubbled to the surface. "How dare you show up here claiming to want me back?! It's been three weeks, Rumpel. Why now?"

Rumpelstiltskin fingered his stinging cheek and cursed himself because he'd let it come to this. If he hadn't been such a fool …"Because I love you."

Those simple words, spoken too little, too late, nearly crushed her under their weight and her anger slipped a notch beneath boiling mad. "You … you unbelievable bastard. You come to me now? What took you so long? Were you out searching for the truth that I did not, in fact, betray you? All you had to do was read the diary. I'm not in the habit of lying to myself."

"I was only a quarter of the way through the diary when I realized I'd made a mistake, when I realized you would never betray me, Belle. It has never been easy for me to trust," he explained, inching closer to her. Belle took several steps away in retreat, edging around the sofa.

"When did I ever give you a reason to think every deed, ever gesture, every word, wasn't exactly what was in my heart? That I would betray you to the queen or anyone else, for that matter, is utterly preposterous," she hissed, her voice filled with heat, her eyes narrowed dangerously. She couldn't be close to him. She needed the distance to fuel her anger and she knew if he touched her again there was a great chance for her resistance to crumble and leave herself open for more heartache.

"Belle, you don't understand. Everyone I have ever cared about has left me at some point. How was I to know you truly loved me? That you weren't just trying to break my curse?" he asked, calmly stalking her around the furniture, desperation for her to understand coloring his voice.

"How were you to know? True Love's kiss should have been your first clue, Rumpel! What was it you said to me?" she asked. She pitched her voice in a good imitation of the imp. "My power means more to me than you?" she asked, throwing his words from their final parting back into his face. He winced.

"I can't lose my power, love. Without it, I'll never be able to find my son. And when you claimed she was right, I thought it was all a trick. I thought Regina had somehow gotten to you. It took me awhile to realize you wouldn't do that to me … that you …"

"That I what, Rumpel? That I loved you?" she asked, swiping angrily at the tears which spilled from beneath her closed lids. How broken was he that he couldn't accept what she'd so willingly offered? "You were cruel. You didn't just break my heart, Rumpelstiltskin, you tore it from my chest and danced on it. You reveled in my pain!"

"Belle, please …" he began, reaching out a beseeching hand to her, but she cut him off.

"No," she cried, slapping his hand away as he reached for her. "You don't get to come here and tell me you love me and think everything is going to be fine, that I'm just going to fall at your feet. It doesn't work that way." She paused to catch her breath. "All I wanted was to love you. I had no idea until that day you sent me to town there was even a remote possibility you might return my feelings and yet I spent the next few weeks doing research. If there was a chance I could break your curse, I wasn't prepared to take it. If you hadn't kissed me …"

He ignored her protests and pulled her into his arms, his grip firm as he held her to him. "I'm so sorry, love ... so sorry for hurting you. Please forgive me for being a wretched old monster. Please, m'Belle," he crooned, his nose buried in the ringlets at her crown.

She jabbed him in the ribs with a sharp fingernail. "You're not a monster. How many times do I have to tell you before you believe me? A b-beast at times, but not a monster," she whispered brokenly around the sobs which wracked her diminutive frame. "I was willing to stay with you forever … not because of our deal, but because I couldn't imagine my life without you. I would have been happy for us to go on as before … before our hearts became involved. But you threw it all away, Rumpel. One kiss and everything went straight to hell."

Rumpelstiltskin knew, in that moment, there was only one way to prove the seriousness of his claim. Professing his love to her wouldn't be enough. He had to show her. He cupped her face in his hands and pressed his lips to the corner of her mouth, so close to her lips, yet far enough away not to invoke the magic. "I love you," he whispered, brushing his lips over hers to reach the other side of her mouth. "Please come home with me, have me as your husband and let me show you for the rest of my life just how much you mean to me." She stiffened in his embrace as he molded her lips to his, her foot coming down on his already bruised instep and her hands pushing forcibly against his chest.

He stumbled back against the sofa, the frame catching him behind his legs and making him sit down whether he wanted to or not. She retreated a safe distance and glared at him as if he'd taken leave of his senses. "You … you can't just …"

"Yes, I can, Belle. I would happily give up everything for you," he said, regaining his feet.

Her anger was quickly being replaced by confusion. "I won't let you. I won't be responsible for taking everything away from you," she insisted, shaking her head as she backed away from him.

He raked a hand through his hair in frustration, his eyes pleading with her. Why was she the only person he knew who could reduce him to a quivering mess of nerves which left him doubting himself at every turn? "Don't you see, Belle? You are everything to me."

"Not your son, Rumpel. You said it yourself. You need your magic to find him. I can't take the chance …"

His head felt like it was in a fog and he was having trouble concentrating. Just the brief moment he'd had his lips pressed to Belle's had made the Dark One shriek in his skull. He did his best to ignore him and pulled the diamond from the pocket of his waistcoat. "I may have found a way to have both. It's why it took me so long to come for you, m'Belle. The diamond was a bit difficult to procure and I'll probably be forever indebted to the hatter for his assistance, but I had to try."

Belle watched him warily as she moved closer to peer at the ring clasped tightly between his fingers. "Aside from its beauty, what's so special about it?" she asked, mesmerized by the swirling pink and blue mist which danced at the diamond's core.

Rumpelstiltskin shrugged and waved a hand dismissively. "I may have spelled it to repel the magic of true love's kiss. The spell was quite powerful … nearly blew up my workroom. It also contains a protection spell. See the blue mist as it swirls around the pink? It will protect you against any magic … other than my own," he explained, feeling uncomfortable beneath her penetrating gaze and narrowed eyes. "Would you … ah … care to test it?" he asked, his amber orbs filled with hope.

Belle's brow furrowed with a frown and she chewed her lip thoughtfully. "And we'll … we'll be able to… to kiss?"

"If that is what you wish," he replied, his chest aching with the need to breathe as he awaited her decision.

Her hand balled into a fist as she fought the urge to take the ring from him. "Rumpel, what if it isn't enough? What if there are too many things broken between us?"

Rumpelstiltskin reached for her hand, brushing his lips to her knuckles as he could clearly see her resolve weakening. "We will fix it. Whatever you wish, sweetheart. Please don't let what I did destroy us. Accept my ring, have me for your husband and let me love you. Let me spend my life making you happy." He dropped to his knees before her and buried his face in her abdomen, so she couldn't see the tears which had formed in his own eyes. "Please, m'Belle. I love you so much. I need you so very much."

Belle stared down at his bowed head in awe. She had the great Dark One on his knees before her, supplicating himself, groveling for her forgiveness, for her love and acceptance. He wielded the most powerful magics in the realm and had doubtfully ever been in such a position. She knew if she refused him, she would lose him forever and all the anger and hurt and heartache abandoned her, leaving only enough room in her heart for the love she held for him.

She carded her hands through his hair, reveling in its softness as she urged him to stand. "A-Are you certain this is what you want, Rum?"

"More than anything," he assured her once more.

Belle held out her hand and relaxed her fingers, so he could slip the ring onto the fourth finger of her left hand. It was cold against her heated flesh and she couldn't quite hold back her gasp. She could feel the magic of the gem creep over her flesh as if it were forming an invisible barrier around her. "I'm still angry with you," she stated, but her heart really wasn't in it as he stood and pulled her into the circle of his arms.

"I know, dearest," he said, trailing his lips along the curve of her jaw.

Her hands snaked up his chest to delve into the hair at his nape, her eyes closing as a welcome heat unfurled in her belly. "No more hiding your feelings from me."

His hands fisted in the silk covering the curve of her hips and he groaned, feeling himself grow hard with need as her nails scraped against his scalp. "No hiding," he promised, running the flat of his tongue over the mark beneath her ear. She shivered with delight and he increased the pressure against the mark he'd placed on her. He was still hesitant to kiss her, but he wouldn't be able to postpone it indefinitely, especially if she continued to writhe in his arms as she was doing.

"And…"

"Belle, love, please shut up and let me kiss you," he sighed, nibbling at her lower lip before taking it between his own as her words died away. He delved a hand into her hair, destroying her intricate coiffure, holding her head in his palm to stop her from pulling away. He could feel the magic fighting to unleash itself upon him as his lips moved slowly and sensuously over her petal soft lips. Right then, he didn't care if the curse melted away and he turned to dust, so long as he didn't have to stop touching her, kissing her. Tentatively he ran his tongue along the seam of her lips, begging silently for entrance. She gasped softly, leaving herself open for his invasion. He was trying to move slowly for her, trying not to let his passion have free rein, but it was increasingly difficult when she tasted finer than any wine he'd ever drunk and emitting soft moans which got lost in his mouth as he swallowed them down. His tongue searched out every inch of her mouth, seeking every spot which would bring her pleasure and force her to continue making those sweet sounds in her throat.

Belle finally broke away, desperate for air, and searched his face for any sign of change. "It worked," she breathed happily, glancing down at the ring on her hand in wonder.

"So, do I have your promise? You'll marry me?" he asked, still uncertain of her answer. "It's forever, m'Belle. I won't be able to let you go once I have you. You won't be able to change your mind later."

"I will … forever," she squeaked as he crushed her to him, his arms wrapping around her like steel bands. "I …" her voice trailed off as she looked toward the door of the study. "Did you hear that?"

He raised a brow and sneered at the door, having a good idea of what was going on out in the corridor. He just couldn't bring himself to care. His love was in his arms, pressed tightly to him and flushed with desire, but it was her wish to investigate. With a thought, the door banged open and three large bodies tumbled forth into the room, limbs sprawled and lips moving in surprised curses.

Belle moved out of Rumpelstiltskin's embrace, despite his anguished groan, and strode to the bumbling fools thrashing about on the floor. "Really? You're peeking through keyholes now? What are you lot, a bunch of five-year-old children?" she asked dryly, planting her hands on her hips and glaring down at them with marked disdain.

"Well …"

"You see, it was like this …"

"We weren't spying …"

"Gaston, I expected better of you," she scolded, offering him a hand up. "And, Jefferson, what would Alice say to know you've stooped to peering through keyholes? Brutal, I don't even know what to say to you." She looked around, expecting to see her father amidst the heap. "Papa didn't come with you? I'm amazed."

Maurice peeked around the door frame when his name was mentioned, a sheepish grin on his flushed face. "We were … um … concerned when you didn't come back to the ballroom."

If Rumpelstiltskin hadn't been so chagrined at having had to relinquish his hold on her, he would be giggling at the red faces of the men before him. He snaked his arms around her waist from behind and rested his chin on her shoulder, savoring her closeness for a moment before asking, "Shall I send them off somewhere, love? Perhaps somewhere far away?" He held out his hands for her to see the magic crackling at his fingertips.

"I don't think that will be necessary," she said with a soft chuckle that went straight to his groin as she kissed his cheek and rested her head against his. She remembered her father's presence as he cleared his throat and she blushed, resting her arms over Rumpelstiltskin's. "Alright, you lot, off with you," she retorted, shooing them out of the study. "I would like a few more moments with my betrothed before we return to the ball. Go, off with you."

"Betrothed?" her father asked dubiously, remembering the state she'd been in since she'd come home. There was no way he was going to allow a marriage between his daughter and the Dark One until he'd had his say in the matter. He squared his shoulders and glared at the imp's possessive embrace about the princess. "Not bloody likely."

"Papa!"

"Until Rumpelstiltskin and I have had a few words," he amended.

She felt the tension drain out of her love as he relaxed against her back, knowing he was confident any words he might have with the king would work out in their favor. He waited until the four men filed out of the study before hauling her back against his chest and nipping playfully at her lips. After what they'd already been through, hammering out a betrothal contract should be a piece of cake.

A/N: I hope no one was too disappointed. I tried to reunite them without too much angst and her refusing him. This chapter made me happy, so hopefully my readers are happy as well. The tale continues in the next chapter, so don't think this is the end. Love to all of you for reviewing, following and faving.