IX

"So, my darling girl, you truly are going to give him another chance? You really think he's worth it?" Jefferson asked, tightening his grip on Belle's waist as he twirled her about the dance floor, his grey eyes alight with mischief. He'd heard everything through the keyhole outside the king's study, but he still wished to have a confirmation from her own lips. He'd like nothing better than to see his friends find happiness with each other, but he knew better than anyone, sometimes it was easier said than done.

Belle's eyes never left Rumpelstiltskin as she danced with the hatter. He stood lounging against her gilded throne, his stance relaxed even though she knew he was anything but. She could tell he was anxious, simply by the way the fingers of his right hand rubbed together reflexively and the tight lines which formed at the corners of his mouth. She knew because she was experiencing the same. But she had done as her papa had asked and excused them, so they could talk. She shouldn't have been forced to return to the ball. She looked a mess, her lips swollen from Rumpelstiltskin's kisses and her hair falling about her shoulders in disarray from his long fingers. But it was expected of her and as long as she remained in Avonlea, she would have to do her duty. One dance, however, was all she was willing to promise. They were discussing her own fate and she would not allow any signatures to be placed on a contract if she wasn't directly involved in writing it.

Jefferson released her waist to tip her chin up to meet his gaze. "You're not listening to a word I'm saying, are you?"

Belle briefly let her gaze meet his before she returned it to Rumpelstiltskin and her father. "I'm sorry, Jefferson," she apologized, casting him a small smile. "And yes, I am giving him a second chance. I love him."

"If it makes you feel any better, he has been quite miserable without you."

That seemed to be the right thing to say to draw her attention to him. "The Dark One doesn't allow others to see when he's upset, Jeff. How could you tell?"

Jefferson allowed his lips to curve into a smirk, one which had several of the ladies hovering near the dance floor fanning themselves rapidly. "He didn't sleep, rarely ate and he became obsessed with your diary. The one time I innocently plucked it from the dining table, he planted me waist deep in the floor. Your absence was greatly felt, m'dear. If nothing else, you need to come home just to ensure us a decent pot of tea," he remarked drolly.

Belle snorted, relieved the dance was finally over, and she could return to Rumpelstiltskin's side. He wasn't looking very happy and her father's ruddy complexion was becoming an unhealthy shade of red. She thanked Jefferson for the dance and climbed the short flight of steps up to the dais, taking her seat on her gilded throne. Rumpelstiltskin visibly relaxed now that she'd been returned to his side and he took her hand in his, rubbing the pad of his thumb leisurely over her knuckles.

"… don't know what it's been like since she's been home. I am not going to allow you to take her off to your lair for you to hurt her again. I won't have it!" Maurice bellowed. "She hardly eats, barely sleeps, has been partaking in activities unbecoming to a woman of her station …"

At that, Rumpelstiltskin quirked a brow in her direction. Never had he seen his Belle act in any way other than the well-bred lady she'd been raised to be. "What activities?" he asked curiously, ignoring the clenching of his heart at the thought of her not taking care of herself. He'd been in the same state himself, but he was the Dark One. He didn't need as much sleep or nourishment as normal mortals.

She flushed scarlet beneath his questing glare and shifted uncomfortably. "Can't we discuss this later?" she asked, but she was drowned out by her father's booming voice.

"My daughter has been racing that steed of hers up and down the coast with no thought to possibly injuring herself, she has been sneaking out of the palace at night, doing Gods know what … and don't think I didn't know about that, my girl," he railed, dismissing her surprise with a wave of his beefy bejeweled hand. "She has shown no interest in her library or her diary since her return. But the worst thing …" He paused to catch his breath and Belle groaned, knowing what was coming. She didn't relish the idea of having to explain her actions to her betrothed. "The worst thing was when I caught her on the training field."

"Papa!"

"You deliberately put yourself in harm's way?" Rumpelstiltskin growled in a low tone. She could literally feel the anger rolling off him in waves.

"I was in no danger," she protested defensively, glaring at her father with enough heat in her eyes to fry him alive. For once, she was thankful she possessed no magic, because at that moment she could not be held accountable for any harm she might inflict upon her father.

"And you allowed this?!" Rumpelstiltskin hissed angrily. "You allowed her on a training field with knights who easily outweigh her by ten stone, who are far more capable with weapons and who could easily crush her? What kind of father are you?"

Belle cringed at the heat in his voice and rose from her seat to step between them. She raised her hands and pressed them firmly to Rumpelstiltskin's chest. "Please, Rumpel, he didn't know. I forbid Brutal from telling him. He put a stop to it when he caught me in the act," she said, trying to make him understand her father wasn't to blame. "I promise, Rumpel, I was in no danger. I'm not some simpering damsel in distress. I'm more than capable of handling myself."

He reached out and twirled a lock of her hair around his long finger, rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger to feel the softness of it, willing his ire to cool as he held her pleading gaze. "It's my fault. If I hadn't sent you …"

She placed her fingertips to his lips to stop him. "We'll not be blaming each other for things we did in the past. We're together now and we're to be married. I won't have your recriminations and self-loathing getting in the way of our fresh start." She aimed her next words over her shoulder in the direction of her irate father. "And no one will keep us apart. Isn't that right, Papa?"

Rumpelstiltskin couldn't have cared less if the king agreed or not, his amber eyes staring down into an endless ocean of blue so filled with love and determination it quelled his own fears of their future. And Maurice wasn't finished. "I will hold off my decision for now, my girl. There are still many things to be discussed. I won't have him whisking you away again until I'm certain this is the right decision for you," he stated adamantly.

The imp couldn't repress a smile as she wrenched away from him to stand beside her father's throne and bend at the waist to hiss furiously in his ear. Whatever she said to him left the king's usually ruddy face pale and bloodless, his mouth gaping and gasping for words that wouldn't come. She smiled brightly when he nodded his acquiescence. "I am happy we have been able to reach an accord, Papa, and I'm certain we shall all be able to sit down in the morning over breakfast to decide what will go into the betrothal contract."

"Of course, daughter," he grumbled numbly, slouching back in his throne in defeat. She was just as stubborn as her mother had been and he should have known better than to try to argue with her.

She flounced back to Rumpelstiltskin's side and placed her hand in the crook of his arm. "Happy birthday, Papa," she said sweetly and let him lead her off the dais.

He pulled her into his arms as they reached the edge of the dance floor and twirled her about as the first strains of a waltz began to play. "Do you think we might dance this time without so much abuse to my feet?" he asked, pulling her tightly into his embrace, uncaring that he was holding her much more closely than what society deemed appropriate.

Her face flamed, and she was hard pressed not to hide her embarrassment against his shoulder. "I can't be held accountable for something I did in anger … at least this time. I was still hurting and couldn't help giving back just a little."

"I deserved much worse, dearest," he said, his clawed hand caressing the curve of her hip as they danced. "Now, would you care to tell me what you said to your father to have him changing his mind about our betrothal?" He changed the subject before she could scold him again for his regrets.

He twirled her outward and then back into the circle of his arms before she was able to answer, her lips curled into a mischievous grin and her cerulean eyes sparkling merrily. She was truly breathtaking in her beauty now that happiness had been returned to her soul. "I simply told him if he denied me my heart's desire, I would invite him out to the training grounds and wipe the field with him. It would cause him to lose face to be so thoroughly trounced by his daughter."

It was his turn to grin and his giggle trilled, startling several couples who danced at a safe distance away from them. "I think I'm beginning to wish I could see you in action, m'Belle. How is it you kept this from me for so long?"

She shrugged as if her accomplishments were of no consequence. "I grew up with the sure knowledge one day I would be queen. I felt it was my duty to learn how to lead. How would it look to send my knights into battle to defend my kingdom if I couldn't join them on the field? I wanted to be a strong leader, so I had Gaston and Brutal train me in secret. Now, Brutal is the only one I can convince to spar with me. Besides, you never asked, and I didn't think the knowledge was pertinent to our relationship. It's not likely I could have sparred with you."

"And why not?" he asked, a teasing note in his voice. "It might have been quite entertaining."

"I'm certain you would have found it vastly entertaining. And then when I would've been close to beating you, you would have cheated and used magic. Think of how damaging to your ego it would have been to be bested by a woman," she retorted.

"You're that confident of your skills?" he asked, quirking a brow at her. He wracked his brain, trying to remember if he had any practice swords back at the castle.

"I am," she smirked, nodding. "But not so confident I wouldn't be willing to learn more. I hope never to stop learning."

"You are unlike any noble I've ever met before," he murmured, completely in awe of her. His knowledge of nobles would never be the same. Nobles were vain, spoiled, selfish creatures who care not a whit for the lives of those who serve them. And he was certain he'd never met a princess who would willingly lead her armies into battle and sacrifice herself for others. His love had more layers than an onion and he looked forward to spending the next century peeling them back until he knew all of her.

"I suppose that is a good thing, considering your disdain for nobles. Perhaps one day you will tell me why you hate them so."

He tipped her chin up to brush his lips to her brow. "I will tell you anything you wish to know, my darling Belle."

Brutus was waiting for them as Rumpelstiltskin led her off the floor, bowing low to her and looking quite uncomfortable. "Dark One, highness. I have been asked to inform you a room has been prepared for your … ah … betrothed." He kept his eyes trained on Belle, leery to meet the sorcerer's gaze. "If you would like me to escort you …" he offered.

"Thank you, Brutal," she said solicitously, waving him off to proceed them from the ballroom. Rumpelstiltskin was content to follow along as he twined his fingers with Belle's. She rested her head on his shoulder, groaning when she realized where Brutus was leading them. "He wouldn't!"

"He did, highness," Brutus winced, opening the door next to her father's suite of rooms. "I'm also to stand as guard to make certain the both of you … er … behave yourself."

Belle ground her teeth together and muffled a shriek of rage behind her hand. "I can't believe he would do such a thing." Her face turned scarlet in her mortification, just imagining what her father had said to her friend to have him blushing like a youth instead of the knight he was.

Rumpelstiltskin glowered at their guard until the man moved off a discreet distance down the corridor to allow them some privacy. When he was satisfied, he gently pulled Belle against his chest and laid his head against her crown, his hands rubbing soothing circles along the ridge of her spine. "It's late, sweetheart. You should try to get some rest," he said grudgingly.

Unshed tears of frustration danced at her dark lashes and she pressed herself more firmly to his chest, her hands caught between them and toying with his cravat. She remembered the painstaking care she'd used to stitch the silk at his neck and it meant the world to her to see he was proudly wearing her gift. "I'm not tired."

"You were yawning not ten minutes ago," he chuckled at her petulant tone.

Belle pressed her lips to his neck above the silk of his cravat and took great satisfaction in his soft gasp. His heart increased in tempo beneath her hand and his long fingers slipped into her hair to caress her nape. "Three weeks has seemed a lifetime without you. Is it selfish of me that I can't bear to be parted from you now? I've missed you terribly, Rumpelstiltskin. I've missed our tea time and our talks over dinner. I've missed sitting before the fire and reading to you. I've missed the way you used to look at me as though unable to believe I enjoyed your company." She chuckled ruefully. "I've even missed the sound of the wheel as you'd spin. Isn't that …"

But she wasn't allowed to finish, his hand in her hair dragging her head back and his lips descending to hers to claim them for his own. His lips were gentle yet firm as he teased her, sliding and molding to hers, coaxing her to open for him. Now when he kissed her, he could feel the magic of true love wrap around him like an embrace, its power no longer threatening to drain him. Now, it allowed her love to creep in and caress his very soul and for the first time in his very long existence, he felt free. Free to be the man he'd once been, free to live, to love, to hope. Because of his Belle, because she had dared to love a beast.

"I love you so much, m'Belle," he whispered reverently against her kiss-swollen lips. "You couldn't be selfish if you tried. You're so giving, so loving and I am the last person in the realm to ever deserve you. I was such a fool to think you would betray me. You will never know how much I regret sending you away, hurting you. I …" His voice broke, the emotion lodged in his throat comparable to that off a knife's blade.

The tears which had gathered in her eyes spilled unheeded as she brushed at the moisture which escaped from his own. "Shh, my Rumpel, don't cry. We're together now and that's all that matters." He buried his face in the crook of her neck and took a shuddering breath, breathing in her warm scent of sunshine and roses and everything pure and good while she stroked his curls and held him as if she'd never let him go. "I've loved you for so long. If I would have had the courage to tell you, we could have avoided so much pain."

He lifted his head, so she could see the wealth of promise shining in his eyes. "No more, dear heart. No more pain; only love. I promise I will do everything in my power to make certain you are safe and protected, loved and cherished, that you never doubt my feelings for you ever again."

She laughed, the sound foreign to her ears after so much heartache, and let him brush her tears away as she had done his. "I'm going to hold you to that. And if it's one thing I do know, it is that you never break your word."

He would have remained standing in the corridor with her indefinitely if the sound of heavy footsteps hadn't brought them back to reality. Her father, flanked by his personal valet and Gaston, blinked in surprise. "I thought you had retired, my girl," he said, shooing Gaston to his own room several doors down from the one Rumpelstiltskin would be occupying. The sorcerer was very near purring in her arms and she had no desire to step out of his embrace, regardless of what her father thought.

"We were just saying goodnight, Papa," she breathed softly, gazing up into her love's warm amber eyes and brushing her fingers through the hair which had a tendency to fall over his eyes.

"Oh … is that what you're doing?" he asked, the corners of his mouth twitching as he fought back a smile at his daughter's obvious happiness. "It looks to me like you're contemplating him like a bit of your favorite chocolate dessert," he teased. He then mumbled under his breath, "This will be the shortest betrothal in history."

"Papa!" she shrieked indignantly, burying her face against Rumpelstiltskin's chest which shook with laughter. Apparently, her father had gotten over his upset in defense of her honor and had accepted she would allow nothing to get in the way of her forthcoming nuptials. And she loved that he had to play the angered father bit.

"Good night, my girl." Maurice chuckled lowly as he disappeared behind his door without another word. He was pleased to have his daughter back to the happy girl he remembered instead of the broken woman she'd been when she'd returned home. He just wasn't ecstatic about her leaving him once again to live with her new husband. He shuddered in revulsion. Leave it to his daughter to fall in love with a beast. She always had been a bit odd, but did she have to take it to such extremes?

Rumpelstiltskin brushed the backs of his knuckles against her cheek, smiling softly at the rosy hue of her blushes. He was trying desperately not to think of other activities which could make her blush as he took her hand to lead her down the corridor to her own suite of rooms. He coiled a lock of her hair around his finger as he gazed down at her, worrying when her face fell in dismay. "What is it, m'Belle?"

"Rumpel, please tell me you're really here, that I'm not going to wake up in the morning and find it's all been a dream," she pleaded, fisting her hands in the crimson brocade of his waistcoat.

He dipped his head, taking her lips in the softest of kisses and then pressing his brow to hers, the contact reaffirming that he was indeed with her. "It's not a dream, love. I'm really here with you. I will be with you always." He raised her left hand and pressed a kiss to the diamond on her finger. "If you wake and doubt it, you have but to look at this token of my affection to know it's real."

"I don't want to leave you. Stay with me," she whispered, her breath ragged as she pressed her lips to his throat. "Stay with me." She chewed thoughtfully on her lower lip as she took in his discomfort. He drew his arms away from her and steepled his hands before him. She reached out and caught his sleeve before he closed down completely.

"Belle, I …"

"I promise to be on my best behavior. We'll have tea in my sitting room before we retire," she rushed to explain, trying to reassure him. "Gaston and I have done so more times than I can count. I assure you it is entirely proper." When he still looked as though he wished to flee, she offered, "We can even leave the door open if it makes you more comfortable."

"Your special blend with the chamomile?" he asked, nearly salivating at the thought of a decent brew shared with his Belle. He'd been dreaming of it for days and she was so insistent he couldn't very well deny them both.

She beamed up at him, her smile blinding over her small victory, and ushered him inside while she asked, "Brutal, dear, might you have Penelope fetch us a tea tray and possibly some refreshments. I find myself rather hungry. And ask her to bring my chamomile blend for tea."

"Highness, his majesty …" he balked, quickly trailing off as she held up a finger to silence him.

"Run along, Brutal," she ordered firmly, only her smile lessening the sharp tone of her voice. She wasn't going to add that she had spent a good portion of the last year with her dark sorcerer and he'd been nothing less than a gentleman.

Rumpelstiltskin was standing before her bookshelf perusing her collection, his shoulders stiff with unease when she entered her sitting room, making sure she did indeed leave the door open. She slipped her arms around his waist from behind and rested her cheek between his shoulder blades, feeling him tense and pause with his hand on the spine of one of her journals. Slowly, he let the tension ease from his body and he relaxed against her, placing his hand over hers.

"I've never been in your personal space before," he murmured in a low tone. Once he'd moved her above stairs in the Dark Castle, they'd come to an unspoken agreement that her room was her own and he wouldn't invade her privacy there. Now, standing in the private sitting room of her childhood suite, he couldn't seem to relax completely.

"You'll get used to it eventually, Rumpel," she said, muffling a giggle against his coat. "What are you looking at?"

He shrugged and pulled her around to see for herself. "Is this entire shelf filled with diaries?" he asked, gesturing to the red leather tomes which took up the better part of a shelf.

Reluctantly, he let Belle slide his frock coat from his shoulders and lay it across the arm of the sofa. "Yes. I've kept one since the age of nine. I used to drive my papa mad. I was either reading a new book or writing in my diary. He always teased me that I would be married one day with a book in my hand. But don't worry … I don't plan on walking down the aisle with anything more than a bouquet of flowers. All my attention will be focused on my handsome groom."

He sat down on the sofa beside her, snorting at her comment and thinking his Belle would be the only one to ever think a monster handsome. "No one will notice me once they see you in your bridal finery," he sighed contentedly as she curled up against him and tucked her feet beneath her, her head coming to rest against his shoulder.

"This is much nicer than standing out in the drafty corridor," she said with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. They sat in silence, enjoying one another's company and the pure joy of being with each other after such a lengthy absence. Her servant brought in the tea tray followed by Brutus carrying a smaller tray with refreshments. Her stomach growled as she spied the assortments of cakes, pastries and a small plate of sandwiches.

"Did you eat nothing at the gala?" he asked, raising a brow in her direction.

"I didn't really have an appetite at the beginning of the evening." She hadn't had an appetite since leaving the Dark Castle, but she wasn't about to tell him that. There would be no end to the scolding he'd likely give her. "Now I find myself quite famished," she grinned, popping a tiny cake into her mouth before moving to pour their tea and handing Rumpelstiltskin a cup.

The aroma of the tea made his mouth water as he sipped gingerly at the steaming brew. His palate screamed in ecstasy as her unique blend of tea spread over his tongue. "Oh, m'Belle, you have no idea how much I've missed having tea with you. One of these days, you must share your secret with me," he said, a low moan of pleasure easing itself from his lips.

After he'd consumed three cups of tea and nearly all of the sweets, he sat back and pulled her into his arms, content to hold her until she fell asleep and he would be forced to retire to his own room. She reached up, cupping his cheek in her palm, her eyes suddenly serious. "Did you finish the diary, Rumpel?"

"I did. I just can't understand why you would want me to read something so personal," he replied, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear.

She blushed deeply as she remembered just how personal some of those entries had been. "I needed you to know how I feel about you, needed you to know I would never betray you. I thought maybe if you could read it in my own hand, you might change your mind and come for me." She lowered her eyes and curled her fingers in his cravat, wrinkling the silk with her nervous fidgeting.

"Belle, love, you know of the enmity I have with Regina though you had never met her before that day on the road. I overacted and let my fears control me. You were right when you called me a coward. I have been my whole life. I couldn't let myself believe you really loved me."

"I tried to avoid kissing you, Rum, I really did. I'd even been keeping my distance from you for weeks, but I had missed you so much. That last deal when you were gone so long and then you surprised me," she tried to explain.

He traced her lips with the pad of his thumb, silencing her. "I'm so sorry I hurt you, dear one. I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I am very grateful for it."

Belle laid her head in the crook of his neck where it met his shoulder and deftly untied his cravat, tossing it to lay atop his coat. She slipped her hand into his shirt and rested her hand over his heart. "You deserve to be happy, my darling, whether you admit it or not."

"You don't know what I've done in my past, Belle. You may have a different opinion once I've shared everything with you," he fairly growled, shuddering at the thought of that conversation. "But we shall save that for tomorrow. Do you think we might be able to spend the afternoon together? Or will you be swamped with wedding plans?"

"We will make time," she replied, stifling a huge yawn. "Now tell me, what was your favorite entry in my diary?"

He thought for a moment, trying to figure that out for himself. There were so many interesting entries in her diary, several, in fact, had captivated his attention and fascinated him at the same time. "I don't really have a favorite. It was amazing, all of it. I think what intrigued me the most was how you could ever fall in love with me after the abominable way I treated you when you first came to my home."

"Because I saw you, Rumpel, the real you. There's love in your heart and no matter how hard you tried to hide it, I was able to see it, see you." She yawned again, fighting to stay awake, reluctant to let a moment of their reunion be lost to sleep. There were still so many things she wanted to say, but her lack of sleep over the last few weeks was making itself known.

"It was a daily struggle trying to hide myself from you. You make me want to be other than the monster I am." The arm he had wrapped about her waist tightened as he hugged her to him, his hand ghosting up her side to rest against the stiff whalebone of her corset. She couldn't possibly be comfortable. She startled slightly as crimson smoke enveloped her. When it cleared, she was dressed in a lovely sapphire negligee and dressing gown, the same one she'd favored and had left behind at the Dark Castle draped across the foot of her bed. It was more than acceptable for her modesty and was much less distracting than the low décolletage of her ball gown.

"Not a monster. Just my Rumpelstiltskin, my love, my …" She lost the battle against her fatigue and drifted to sleep in his arms, her hand still covering his chest over his heart. He pressed a kiss to her brow and smiled contentedly, reveling in their closeness. He found he could get used to having her so close. With Belle, he didn't have to pretend. She would always see through him to who he really was. With her the mischievous imp could retreat and let him be himself … a spinner, a husband and with a bit of luck perhaps a father once again. He'd never give up hope he'd be reunited with his son, but now he had Belle at his side to search with him and he'd never let her go, or her love.

A/N: Alright, I know … I have turned everyone diabetic from all the cotton candy fluffy sweetness. I figured everyone deserved it considering the angst at the beginning and for the majority of the story. Just a little love. More to come soon, so hang in there with me. Hope everyone enjoyed this chapter. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, followed and favorited. I love to hear your comments, so please continue to leave some. Love to you all.