Warning: This chapter contains adult themes and situations … smut, dearies.

XI

Journal Entry 7th of June

Rumpel refuses to return my journal. He claims it belongs to him now. I intended it as a loan, not a gift. He argues that it was left in his possession with no guarantee we would ever see one another again, hence it was a parting gift. Infuriating man! There are so many pages yet to be filled and I think it's a waste that he won't give it back. So, I must settle to begin anew in the new journal papa gave to me when I returned home from the Dark Castle. I suppose I can be thankful Rumpel returned my quill — which for some reason now writes in ink the same peacock blue as the feather — so I need not worry about an ink pot. Magic at times, has its perks.

But enough of that. I feel if I don't write this down, I may very well explode. It just won't do to have the princess of Avonlea stand in the middle of the castle courtyard and scream in frustration. And that is exactly what I am … frustrated, angry and a myriad of other emotions. I feel them so deeply; my blood seems to hum with them. I should be happy my Rumpel decided to share so much of his past with me, but instead it has left me more confused than ever. And furious!

Absolutely furious he was so mistreated by his wife and by that demon harpy who used him to elevate her station in life. It wasn't bad enough he and his son were abandoned by Milah. No, she had to make certain he never felt worthy of love before she left. Then when he finally decided to take a chance on love again — which I know couldn't have been easy for him — Cora had merely used him for power. If ever I've felt the need to become violent, it is now. It is no wonder he believed so fervently that no one could ever love him. It had been so much easier to reject me than to leave himself open to have his heart crushed once again.

Belle tossed her quill down and lifted her tea cup to her lips, grimacing to find the brew had gone cold. A gust of air huffed indignantly from her parted lips and her hands balled into fists in her lap as she gazed out of her bedroom window. A tear slid slowly from the corner of her eye to trail over her flushed cheek. "I'll never hurt you, Rum," she vowed. "And I'll be damned if I let anyone else cause you harm."

She blew gently on the page where her tears had spilled onto it before she picked up her quill once more and began to jot down her thoughts.

I had barely been able to take that in when he began to recount the many vile and despicable acts he'd committed over the centuries in his quest to find a way to be reunited with his son. It wasn't his fault. He'd let the darkness consume him as a way to bury his humanity. It made it easier to hide from the pain and loneliness he suffered. It didn't make it easy to forgive some of the things he'd done to those desperate enough to call upon him for help, no matter that his ultimate goal was noble. But I love him, and I will not abandon him for mistakes he made in his past. There is goodness in him. Even at the beginning of my time with him, I could see it. No matter how horrible he tried to be, I could see behind the mask he wore so effectively to keep others at a distance.

However, I think the most startling news was how he plans to finally reach the land to which his son escaped. A terrible dark curse which will rip apart the realms and bring us all to a land without magic seems to be his only recourse. Another bad decision on his part, but he is steadfast in his resolve. I will stand by him, of course. But what concerns me the most is the person he's chosen to cast his curse. Why does it have to be Regina? Hasn't she proven just how evil and vicious she can be already? If I had followed her advice about true love's kiss when she first told me about it, things could have been so much worse for us. As it is, Rumpel still thought I had betrayed him. Who knows what she could do with such a powerful weapon of revenge at her disposal?

Rumpel has asked that I trust him to protect me from her machinations, and promised we would be together. What choice do I have? Day after tomorrow, I will pledge my life and my heart to him forever. The ceremony is moot considering my signature rests on our contract, but if it will make him happy, I will suffer through it. I want so badly to dispense with the formality and go home … home to the Dark Castle and start our lives together as husband and wife.

I am truly concerned about our wedding night. Rumpel, no matter how many times I profess my love to him, is still hesitant to touch me. I can see the fear of rejection in his eyes, and it makes me want to take Milah by the hair and wipe the courtyard with her face for what she did to him. It's bad enough that after he recounted his past, he disappeared from the garden before I could share my feelings with him. I know he was afraid I would ask to break our deal and he fled before I could cast him aside as so many had before. Why does it have to be so hard for him to believe in us?

Now I am so furious, I just want to hit something … preferably someone. It seems I've become rather bloodthirsty of late. Rumpel has forbid me to suit up and return to the practice field unless he is there to spar with me. And Brutal and Gaston are too fearful of the Dark One's wrath to go against his wishes. But he has been gone all afternoon and into the evening, not even returning for the evening meal. What if he doesn't return for me at all? No, he will abide by the contract. The Dark One doesn't break deals … especially not one so personal as this. Sitting here worrying isn't helping me at all. I need to find some way to work out my frustrations.

Belle closed her journal and ran her hand lovingly over the blue leather cover. For once, writing hadn't been able to ease her troubles. She needed to do something with her hands, something physical she could lose herself in just as Rumpelstiltskin did with his spinning. She rose from her writing desk and moved to her wardrobe, whipping her dressing robe from her shoulders and choosing a light serviceable gown of cotton with no sleeves. It would keep her cool in the kitchens. No matter how much her father objected to her spending time there, at least she'd be able to do something productive while she waited.

*.*.*

Rumpelstiltskin sat upon the settee in Regina's bedroom and ignored the pressure behind his eyes where a vicious headache was beginning to form. Prattle, prattle, prattle, blah, blah, blah. I think the woman talks just to hear the sound of her own voice, he thought tiredly. He'd left Avonlea with the express purpose of going north to purchase a box of Belle's favorite Andrazean chocolates … a peace offering of sorts to soothe her anger over his abrupt departure. And if Regina hadn't persisted with her constant summons, he would have ignored her completely. He assumed her pet was elsewhere and she was feeling neglected. He didn't have time today for one of her tantrums. He needed to return to his Belle and learn whether or not she still wished to marry him.

"Snow White … little witch … revenge … take away her happy ending …" the queen continued as she paced before him, her nails clicking in a most annoying way against the beads which adorned her dress. He pinched the bridge of his nose as the pressure behind his eyes increased and what little patience he possessed ran thin. He focused his gaze on her as she ceased her pacing, her hands planted firmly on her hips as she glared at him with narrowed eyes. "Rumpelstiltskin, you haven't heard a word I've said!"

The sorcerer quirked a sardonic brow at her. "Perhaps if you had something different to say once in a while, your majesty, it might be easier to stay awake in your presence," he remarked dryly.

Regina drew herself up to her full height, her teeth gnashing together. "I want to know why you haven't given me the curse. I'm tired of waiting," she hissed, her ruby lips curling into a disdainful sneer.

Rumpelstiltskin smirked, knowing full well the gesture would irritate her. "It's not ready, dearie."

"How can it not be ready? You've only been working on it for centuries. How much more time can you possibly need?" she shrieked in outrage.

He could feel the dark magic surge through his veins as he met her infuriated gaze. Oh, how he would love to strike her down for her insolence, what she'd done to his relationship with Belle notwithstanding. "It will be ready in due time. Remember, your majesty, it is for me to decide when it is to be finished. You will have your petty revenge against your step-daughter, fear not," he said wearily, tired of her endless prattling. "Now, if this is the pointlessness of your summons, I will bid you farewell."

"You're angry with me, aren't you?" she asked, her smirk transforming into a malicious smile. "Still upset about your girl? Really, Rumpel, you were quite foolish to think she could love you."

He schooled his features into a bland mask as his anger threatened to unleash itself and strike her down. He would rather cut out his own tongue than utter his next words, but it was necessary in order to keep the queen from plotting against his Belle … at least until he had Belle ensconced safely within the walls of the Dark Castle where he could protect her. "She was merely a distraction. I have no delusions of love where she is concerned. I'm certain she's back in her kingdom on the arm of her betrothed, happy to be rid of her role as my servant."

Regina's face fell in disappointment. She never was capable of concealing her emotions very well. "Right," she sneered. "As if anyone would want her after her association with you." She was rather peeved the little chit hadn't been Rumpelstiltskin's true love. To have his curse broken, leaving him powerless, was a fantasy she indulged quite often. With the Dark One's curse forever broken, she would be the ultimate power in the realm and she would leave him broken and bleeding at her feet, mourning the loss of the one woman who had dared to give him her heart. There would be no one left to challenge her. She would now have to begin anew in her quest to destroy her former master.

Rumpelstiltskin shrugged as if the matter meant little, his heart screaming at the very thought of his Belle on the arm of that lumbering arrogant oaf. He rose to his feet and circled around her stiffening frame, an infuriatingly girlish giggle bursting forth from his thin lips. "Really, dearie, I would think your attentions would be more focused on your failure to end Snow White than my love life. It makes me wonder if I should be flattered."

"As if I care about you or some little twit of a girl," she scoffed indifferently.

"Perhaps, instead, you should concentrate on finding someone you don't have to control to share your bed." His blackened claws covered his mouth briefly before another giggle trilled throughout the chamber. "Oh, that's right. I forgot. That's the only way you can lure a man past these chamber doors."

In her fury, she picked up a perfume bottle from her vanity and hurled it at him. His glee was unmistakable as he ducked, the projectile zooming harmlessly over his left shoulder to smash against the wall. "How dare you!" she snarled at him, her eyes widening with rage.

"I do believe I struck a nerve." Before he vanished in a cloud of violet smoke, his laughter hanging mockingly in the still air around her, he taunted, "See you in a month, dearie!"

*.*.*

Belle pounded relentlessly at the bread dough spread out on the worktable before her, flour coating her arms up to her elbows as she worked out her frustrations on the innocent mixture. She'd resorted to baking - more than once - at the Dark Castle when she'd been particularly angry at Rumpelstiltskin, but tonight nothing seemed to help her alleviate her anxiety. Even Jefferson, who had followed her down to the kitchens for a cup of tea and some light conversation, hadn't been able to tease her out of her pique. She'd sent him off with an apology and a smile, wishing for nothing more than to be alone with her thoughts.

And alone she was in the bowels of the kitchen with nothing but the heat of the ovens to keep her company. Already, four loaves of Rumpelstiltskin's favorite date and nut bread lay cooling on the worktable and still she pounded away at more, unable to find comfort in the task, but unwilling to give up until she was so exhausted her dreams would not be filled with thoughts of her sorcerer.

What if he doesn't come back? No, I'm being silly. Aren't I? He's probably off on one of his deals … causing chaos. She stopped her frantic pounding of the dough and leaned her palms against the smooth surface of the work table, bowing her head and taking a deep breath to stave off her worries. She was tempted to press her fingers to the mark below her ear and summon him to her side, but she had always promised herself she would only do so if she were in danger. She needed to stop acting like such a ninny, she mentally scolded herself. There had to be a good reason for him to have just up and poofed out of sight without a word. Damnit!

Belle glanced down at the diamond on her left hand and grimaced at the dough sticking to it. She really should have removed it before she'd begun, but she'd been reluctant to take it off. She'd promised never to remove it, and a little bread dough was unlikely to mar it. Turning back to her task of forming the dough into loaves, she nearly missed the energy which pulsed through the stiflingly hot air; that sizzle and crackle of magic which always preceded the appearance of her imp. She betrayed the knowledge with only a slight stiffening of her shoulders as she worked, wondering how long it would take him to make his presence known.

Rumpelstiltskin leaned a hip against the small table next to the hearth, his slight figure cast in shadows as he watched the muscles in Belle's back ripple beneath her soft flesh as she worked. His stomach settled as he took her in. He'd felt her angst and worry through the mark and was relieved to find her safe. He wondered briefly if he'd be able to feel more of her emotions once they were married. Would the bond they shared grow stronger over time? Would he perhaps be able to feel her desire when he was finally able to have her beneath him in his bed? A shiver tripped up his spine at the very thought of her in his arms. He shifted uncomfortably and tamped down the surge of lust which shot straight down to his groin. The matter of whether or not she would still have him hung heavily between them.

He found a lascivious smile curling the corners of his mouth as he took in her attire and the way the thin cotton gown clung to her curves, her perspiration causing it to stick to her in places. Her bare arms showed him a hidden strength she hadn't possessed before her time at the Dark Castle and he realized the hard work she'd done there had merely enhanced her supple body rather than detract from it. His Belle was steel and strength encased in velvet, and she was his. His bright burning light which touched his very soul and he wouldn't lose her again. He needed her more than his next breath, and he would do anything to assure she remained with him always.

His footsteps were silent as he moved across the stone floor to stand behind her, his hands molding to the curve of her hips as he buried his nose in the chestnut curls piled high on her crown, loose tendrils escaping to cling to the damp skin of her neck. "A bit late to be baking, isn't it, dearest?" he asked silkily against the shell of her ear.

Belle flinched and pulled away from him with a small whimper of distress as the rough dragon hide of his coat poked her through the thin material of her gown. He took her gesture as one of rejection and stepped away from her, his brow knitting in a frown. Her hand snaked out quickly and plucked at his coat, pushing it back off his shoulders as he studied her face. She laid the coat over the back of a chair and moved back into the circle of his arms, laying her head against his shoulder and sighing contentedly. "I really hate that coat, Rum," she teased gently, soothing his fears with the soft tone of her voice. "It's too scratchy."

"Is it now?" he asked, his tone losing the shrillness of the imp and growing husky as her body melded perfectly to his own lean lines. He could feel the heat of her seeping into the very marrow of his bones and he wanted nothing more than to lose himself in her at that moment, reveling in the fact she was his, that she wanted him. "You're not angry with me?" he asked, twirling a loose curl about his long finger.

"Do you really think I would be baking at this hour if I wasn't?" she asked, poking him in the ribs. She stiffened suddenly and glared up at him as a smell of something dark and acidic assailed her nose. "You've been with the queen, haven't you?" she asked accusingly, the deep blue pools of her eyes filling with hurt.

His lips parted on a surprised gasp before snapping them closed. "How could you possibly know that?"

Belle turned from him to wipe the remaining flour from her hands on a cloth, grinding her teeth together to reign in her temper. To think she had been worried over him only to find out he'd been in the company of the very woman who had so cleverly filled her mind with thoughts of how to bring him to his knees. "I can smell her on you, Rumpelstiltskin. It took me a good while to figure it out, but her evil lingers about you when you've been near her. It almost smells of rotted fruit, pungent and unpleasant."

He cupped her chin in his hand, forcing her gaze up to his as he cast her a half moon grin. "You are entirely too perceptive, m'Belle. Yes, I was summoned by the queen," he admitted.

She caught her lower lips between her pearly teeth and studied him. "Is … is um, that why you left me today?"

He wanted nothing more than to catch her lip between his own and worry it himself, but he found the strength to restrain himself … for the time being. "No. I wanted to give you time to decide if you still wanted to marry me after learning about my past and what must be done in order to find my Baelfire. I will understand if you don't, Belle."

She shook her head sadly, hating that he was still so unsure of her despite her many declarations of love. "I have little choice in the matter. I love you and I refuse to give you up because of things you've done in your past. I'm afraid you're stuck with me, my darling," she said simply, squealing delightedly as he hauled her against his chest and squeezed the breath out of her.

"A fate which couldn't make me happier," he breathed against her lips as he took her mouth in a kiss of promise and desire and all the pent-up love he longed to shower upon her. A low growl of pleasure rumbled in his chest as her tongue swept over the seam of his lips, seeking entry into the hot recesses of his mouth. His hands clutched at her hips, desperately pressing his hardening erection against her heat, yearning for her touch. He lifted her, setting her down on the worktable and groaning as her legs wrapped tightly about his waist and he realized how very little she wore beneath her gown. "Belle …"

She whimpered softly as his lips trailed over her jaw to her ear to nip gently at the lobe before his tongue darted out to lave over the mark on her neck, the sensation sending heat spiraling to the core of her being. Her hands grasped frantically at his hair, delving into the soft locks as his fingertips brushed up her sides to cup her breasts. She arched into his touch as his blackened nails scraped deliciously over her nipples through the fabric of her dress, lost in waves of desire for the only man who had ever been able to spark such emotion within her. "So many nights … I dreamed of having … you touch me … like this," she whispered, her head thrown back in pleasure. Just as swiftly, she ducked her head once more, her panting breath caressing the flesh exposed by the deep vee of his shirt.

His thrust his long fingers into her long chestnut curls, pins falling with a soft ping to the table she sat upon, pulling her head back to stare unbelievingly into her heavily lidded eyes. He could feel the tenuous hold on his control slip as he took in the desire so evident on her lovely features. "You dreamed of me?"

She pressed a whisper soft kiss to the corner of his mouth and smiled against his lips. "I may be a maiden, but I know what I want, Rumpelstiltskin. And I've wanted you for such a long time. Even before I knew I loved you."

His hips bucked against her, pressing so tightly into her, he could feel her pulse against him through the heavy leather constricting so uncomfortably against his erection. "Gods, woman, you're going to be the death of me," he growled, taking her lips in a bruising kiss, devouring her and swallowing down her blissful moans. He was barely aware of her fingers working frantically to unbutton his waistcoat before moving to the buttons of his shirt.

Her skirt covered his hands as he tentatively trailed his fingertips along the outside of her thighs, his eyes searching hers, begging for her permission. Those deep cerulean pools were filled with desire and something he'd never expected to see from any woman … love and trust. She trusted him completely and the knowledge nearly brought him to his knees. "I'm yours, Rumpel. Don't be afraid to touch me … please, love," she gasped breathlessly, sliding her hands over the taut flesh of his chest and smiling as she felt him shudder at her touch, reveling in the fact she was pleasing him just as much as he was pleasing her.

His lips tasted the delicate skin of her collarbone, the salty sweet flavor bursting over his tongue like nectar from the gods as his hands moved to the soft flesh of her inner thighs, inching closer to her core, and she keened low in her throat, putting voice to the wealth of emotions racing through her blood. He could've wept as his fingers brushed against the lace covering her sex, so hot … so wet, just for him. His Belle filled his heart as well as his arms as she writhed against him. A brief moment of sanity intruded and quelled his lust to a more bearable level as he realized he couldn't take her there on a filthy worktable in the depths of her father's castle. She deserved fine silken sheets and every comfort imaginable and he would endeavor to make certain her first time was as perfect as she was. His brave beauty who dared to love a monster.

He held her to him, watching her pleasure blossom over her features as he delved beneath the lace of her underpinnings and into her wet heat, her rosebud mouth formed into a perfect 'o' of surprise. Slowly he was gaining control over his lust, but he would not deny himself the pleasure of watching her come apart in his arms, secure in the knowledge that she wanted this, wanted him. Her hands fisted in his shirt as his thumb circled around the bundle of nerves above her opening, her teeth digging deeply into her bottom lip and her eyes closing as she keened and bucked frantically against his hand.

He took her bloodied lip between his, laving it with his tongue as he slipped one lone finger into her hot wet sheath, groaning as she clasped him tightly, her inner walls fluttering around him. "Rum … Rumpel, I … I need …" she gasped, coherent thought escaping her under the onslaught of his questing hands.

His hand moved faster, coaxing, urging and teasing her until she was tightly strung and holding on by a mere hare's-breadth. "Let go, darling. Don't fight it," he crooned, twining his hand in her hair and dragging her head back so he could nip and suckle lightly against the soft sensitive skin of her neck. "Come apart for me, my Belle."

Belle's eyes flew open to lock with his, a sharp cry tearing from her throat and her nails digging into his shoulders through the silk of his shirt. He caught her as she collapsed boneless in his arms, her own wrapping loosely about his waist as she fought to catch her breath and slow her heart which beat a wild tattoo against her ribs. He stroked her hair and rested his cheek against her crown, a deep satisfied smile curling his lips. "Are you alright?" he asked, smoothing her skirts down over her legs to preserve her innate modesty.

"I've never …" she began, her voice raspy and raw from her cries. "I love you, Rumpel." She pressed a kiss to his chest over his heart, content to remain in his arms indefinitely, despite the overwhelming heat of the kitchen.

"I do love you, my Belle," he whispered passionately against her lips as he claimed her mouth in a soft kiss. The Dark One purred in the back of his mind, pleased for once to let the spinner bask in the love he felt for his beloved. The heat rising between them again was gently being stoked by her nails against the bare flesh of his lower back and he knew if he didn't stop now, he would find it nearly impossible to do so.

"Oh, dear Gods! Belle!"

Belle's eyes widened in alarm as her father's voice intruded upon the pleasant lassitude plaguing her limbs and she gasped as reality crashed down on her. "Papa!" she cried, quickly pulling the trailing ends of Rumpelstiltskin's gaping shirt together over his chest. With a flourish of his hand, he righted their clothing, so she wouldn't have to suffer further embarrassment in the face of her father's astonishment and - no doubt - disapproval.

Maurice slapped a beefy hand over his eyes and shook his head. "You know, Belle, I suspected such. All father's worry over their daughter's virtue at some point. But I didn't expect to WITNESS IT!"

Rumpelstiltskin giggled and scooped Belle into his arms to brush past the king and escort his bride to be to her chambers. "Grab a loaf of bread, love. We can have a bit on our way to bed."

"Rumpel!" she shrieked, grabbing a loaf as they passed the cooling rack. She watched her father bluster and groan as they passed him, taking exception to her imp's turn of phrase. "He didn't mean it like that, Papa!" she called over Rumpelstiltskin's shoulder. Her imp was still giggling as they left the kitchen and turned down the corridor which led to her bed chamber. "You are just awful. You realize that, don't you?"

Rumpelstiltskin set her on her feet and broke off a piece of the bread she'd lovingly made for him with her own hands, chewing slowly to savor the flavor on his palate. "You said it yourself, sweetheart. Because of the betrothal contract, we're as good as married. Dallying down in the kitchen shouldn't upset your father so much."

She twined her fingers with his and nibbled on her own piece, munching appreciatively. "I'm looking forward to going home. We can dally all over the castle with no one to interrupt us," she said, her voice honey sweet in its teasing.

"Minx," he chided, ushering her into her room. "Go, take your bath."

"I can't wake the servants to fill my tub. I'll have to wait until morning," she said, a pout tugging at her lips. She smiled brightly as he pulled her behind the screen and filled the tub for her with a wave of his hand.

"No more excuses. You still have flour in your hair, love."

Knowing she would feel so much better, she disappeared behind the screen and quickly shed her dress. The water was the perfect temperature as she sank into its depths, rose scented steam wafting pleasantly under her nose. Her ears perked up as she heard him stretch out on her bed with a sigh, pleased he wasn't quite ready to part company just yet.

"Rum, can I ask you something?" she asked hesitantly, unsure how he would take to her questioning him. She knew he wasn't going to grow used to opening up to her overnight.

"Hmm," he hummed in agreement, letting the stress of the day drain out of him as he buried his nose in her pillow and inhaled her scent as he listened to her splash about in the copper tub.

"Where did you go today? Or did you leave because Regina summoned you? I'm not trying to pry. I'm merely curious," she said a bit nervously.

"I went up north to procure a gift for you, dearest."

The splashing ceased for a moment and he could imagine the curiosity mingled with disapproval on her face. "You didn't have to buy me a gift, Rumpel. I have you; I don't need anything else."

The Dark One purred once again as the spinner preened at her words. "Even your favorite chocolates?"

"What happened to the last box you bought? I didn't bring them with me," she protested, scrubbing her itchy scalp in the rose-scented water.

Rumpelstiltskin grimaced. "Well, dearie, they … um … they might have met with a slight accident."

"What sort of 'slight' accident?" she asked, knowing full well nothing Rumpelstiltskin ever did was slight. Catastrophic, yes. Slight, no.

"Um …"

"Rumpel …"

"They might be a bit melted."

"Rumpel!"

"Fine! I may have … um … tossed them into the hearth in a fit of pique," he mumbled under his breath.

"What was that?" she asked, rising from the tub and wrapping a fluffy blue towel around her dripping form, amused as he tried to deflect her questions.

"You heard me," he grumbled, watching her whip her nightgown from the top of the screen and emerge moments later dressed for bed. She merely smiled patiently at his evasion, pleased to know he'd been just as affected by their separation as she'd been.

He picked up her hairbrush and led her back into her very proper sitting room, settling her on the sofa next to him and working out the tangled coils of her hair. He summoned the gift he'd brought her and set it upon her lap, her face lighting with delight as she delved into the box and brought a chocolate to her lips, a soft moan sounding low in her throat and doing delightful things to his lower extremities.

Thinking he'd effectively distracted her, he began to relax only to have her voice her next question. "What did her evilness want with you today?"

Damn! "Oh, you know Regina. She spent the better part of an hour regaling me with her plans to bring a nasty end to Snow White. And then she proceeded to nag me mercilessly for the curse," he said nonchalantly, hoping she would let him leave it at that.

Belle set her chocolates aside on the low table which sat before the sofa and relaxed back into his arms. "Is Snow really so deserving of Regina's wrath?"

Rumpelstiltskin sighed and wrapped his arms around her, reclining back against the cushions and settling in to sleep with her there on the sofa once more. He was beginning to miss the comfort of his bed, but being there with her - so snug against his side - made any discomfort worthwhile. "No, love, she isn't. Regina has always sought to place blame on others. She blames the little princess for the death of her true love when in fact it was her mother who murdered him. Her whole life has been spent seeking approval from her mother, so instead of blaming Cora, it was just easier to blame Snow."

"She's horrible, Rumpel," Belle whispered, pressing her face into the crook of his neck.

"Regina is a necessary evil, Belle. It won't always be so." He tipped her chin up to claim her lips. "You have nothing to fear from her, sweetheart. She will never touch you with her evil."

Belle met his steady gaze with her troubled eyes. "I don't fear the queen, Rumpel. I fear being parted from you."

His arms tightened about her waist in a gesture of reassurance. "I've made certain she doesn't suspect we're still together, m'Belle. Before she realizes the truth, we will be wed and safely behind the wards of the Dark Castle. Rest easy, dearest."

There were so many things still on her mind she wished to discuss with him, but her eyes refused to remain open a moment longer. She drifted off to sleep, secure in his embrace, her dreams filled with her beloved imp and the promising future which awaited them.

A/N: Well, I hope it wasn't too disappointing? Can't wait to hear what you all think about his chapter. Thanks so much for all the reviews, favs and follows. You don't know how much it warms my heart to have your support. xoxo