XIII

Belle sipped her tea and watched Lady Beatrice finally walk away and leave her in peace, her and all three of her insipid and vain daughters, Chastity, Prudence and Hope. Well, to be fair, Hope wasn't all that bad. In fact, she was quite shy and demure, standing several steps away from her family as if she were trying to avoid them. Beatrice had been one of her mother's ladies in waiting. How her sweet, gentle mother had been able to stand the overbearing harpy was beyond Belle's comprehension. After Jeanette had died, Beatrice had snatched herself up a wealthy husband and settled in a quiet duchy in the northern part of the kingdom … and apparently kept herself rather busy.

She watched as Hope trailed along meekly behind her mother and sisters and wondered over the girl. She kept her eyes averted and her rosebud mouth closed, almost as if she were afraid to draw attention to herself. Hope seemed to be a lovely girl with a willowy frame, jade green eyes and flaming red hair. It was a wonder her face wasn't covered in freckles, but her skin was a lovely unblemished ivory and Belle worried the girl must be out of favor with her mother because she didn't share her sister's blonde and blue-eyed beauty.

Gaston plopped down on the settee in a rather oafish manner, one gained from too much time spent on the battlefield and jarred her from her musings. He leaned over and smacked his lips soundly to her cheek in a brotherly manner and grinned roguishly. "How are you today, Belles?"

Maurice rolled his eyes and turned a deaf ear to two of his knights - who had come seeking his council - in order to scold his heir. "Lad, you are now heir to the throne of Avonlea. Act like it!"

Belle hid her smile behind the rim of her teacup. "And just where have you been, dearie?" she asked, her brow arching in query.

Gaston's mouth gaped open and he paused in the process of preparing his tea. The ocher brew spilled over the rim of the cup and onto the back of his hand, causing him to yelp and drop the cup to the rug beneath his feet. Belle reached over and lifted his chin, effectively closing his mouth as a servant rushed forward to clean up his mess. "Gah! You sound just like that imp you're marrying," he shrieked, pointing a wagging finger at her. His eyes widened incredulously as Maurice chuckled at him.

"Oh, give over, Gaston," Belle chided. "Did you really expect me to spend so much time with him and his little quirks not rub off on me somehow?" She was still grinning, the gesture alive with mischief as she poured her friend a cup of tea and handed it to him.

Her eyes lit on her betrothed as he stood next to the terrace doors which led out into the vast rose garden, conversing with Lord Hastings. He was animated in his gestures and speech, and she could practically feel his glee over the prospect of deal making. She blushed prettily as he caught her gaze and winked. Gaston stole her attention away from Rumpelstiltskin as he straightened up slowly, his dark eyes having been captured by something on the far side of the room.

"Who. Is. She?" he asked, entranced by the wisp of a girl across the room.

"Who, lad?" Maurice inquired, leaning closer to the knight to try to follow his gaze.

Belle snorted, looking between the two men. "That, my friend, is Lady Bea's daughter, Hope." She took his cup of tea from him before he accidentally spilled it on his lap. He couldn't hope to be introduced to the girl if he had a tea stain soiling his gray trousers.

"You know her? Why have I never seen her before?" he asked, his voice a breathy whisper. It wasn't often she saw her swaggering braggart of a friend reduced to loss of speech.

"Lady Bea and her daughters are here for the wedding. It isn't often she ventures away from Hastings in order to visit the court. But I suppose that will change now that the last of her girls are of marriageable age," Maurice mused with a knowing smile. He turned back to the impatient knights who sat with him and focused on the problems they'd come to him with, seeking his advice.

Belle rose from the sofa and held out her hand to her friend. When he didn't take it, she smacked him lightly on the shoulder. "Come on, Gaston, I'll introduce you."

That wolfish grin which made nearly all the maidens in the kingdom swoon, blossomed on his face as he gained his feet. He straightened his doublet and offered Belle his arm, his heart fluttering in his chest as he took in the little beauty across the room. She looked as if she were in need of rescuing if the sad smile on her lips was any indication. And he felt he was just the man for the job.

*.*.*

Brutal fell into step behind Belle as she took Gaston's arm and moved across the room, her ever-present guard. He winked at her when she glanced over her shoulder at him. Gaston had eyes only for the Lady Hope, however. She'd never seen her friend so taken with a woman before, not even her, who he'd professed to love. Prudence and Chastity stood together conversing with their mother, the image of perfect court ladies, but Hope seemed to shrink back away from them. Actually, she looked as though she would rather be anywhere than where she was. Belle knew that look all too well considering she'd worn it more than her fair share at state functions and teas and the grand balls she'd been forced to attend before her infamous deal with her betrothed.

"Lady Hope," Belle said softly, trying not to draw the attention of the twittering ladies as she approached the girl.

"Oh, h-highness," Hope stammered, hoping she hadn't been caught daydreaming again. It was a source of contention with her mother, the formidable woman constantly scolding her daughter for having her head in the clouds. Hope dropped into a quick curtsey, her eyes raking the knight escorting the princess from beneath her long auburn lashes.

"Lady Hope, I would like to introduce you to my dear friend, Sir Gaston," Belle said with a bright smile. Gaston bowed deeply before her and reached for her hand to brush his lips over her knuckles, causing the girl to blush prettily. "Gaston, this is the Lady Hope, daughter of Lady Beatrice and Lord Gerald, the Countess and Earl of Hastings."

"Your Highness," Lady Bea nearly shrieked with pleasure that the princess had sought out their little party. "And Sir Gaston!"

Gaston cocked his head to the side and prayed his hearing would return in time. "Ugh," he groaned. Brutal hid his snort behind his hand and Belle smashed her heel into Gaston's instep to remind him of his manners. "Lady Beatrice!" he said a bit too loudly. Belle had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from bursting into laughter. "How lovely to see you again," he gritted out, pasting a false smile on his lips.

Lady Bea beamed happily at him, the thought of a match for one of her daughters making her eyes dance with avarice and greed. "And surely you remember Chastity." She pushed the girl forward with a hand to the small of her back.

"Milord," Chastity replied demurely, dropping a quick curtsey.

"Uh … yes," he lied. Belle remembered him hiding from Beatrice and her daughters for a good part of the evening during the last ball her father had held before the ogres made such revelry unfeasible. "Milady."

"And Prudence?" she asked, nudging her other daughter forward.

Gaston's smile was quickly turning into a grimace as he bowed to the two ladies. Yes, they were equally beautiful with their golden blonde hair and watery blue eyes, but he felt only mild disgust when he looked at them. They didn't have the inner beauty he could see in their sister. It radiated from her and beckoned to him and these two paled next to her.

Beatrice arched a brow as she took in her youngest daughter's hand still clasped in Gaston's tight grip. "Hope, dear, why don't you run along and fetch my shawl."

Hope offered her mother what she hoped was a respectful smile and moved to withdraw her hand from Gaston's vise-like clench. "Yes, mother."

Gaston, however, had other ideas. He wanted to speak with the lady who had captivated him from across the room with barely a glimpse into her lovely jade green eyes and he wouldn't settle for anything less. "Lady Beatrice, surely you might ask Lady Prudence or Lady Chastity to fetch your shawl. I was hoping to have a turn about the garden with Lady Hope. I am sure you understand."

"I think that is a splendid idea, Gaston," Belle chimed, shooing them off toward the doors which led into the rose garden. "Run along now."

Gaston didn't hesitate, especially when he noticed how Hope relaxed at the thought of being away from her overbearing mother and sisters. He smiled warmly at her and tucked her hand in the crook of his arm, hope alive in his breast.

Belle watched Beatrice and her daughters as their eyes followed the pair across the room, their eyes full of maliciousness and hate. "Lady Bea, it is so wonderful you have brought your family to Avonlea to attend my wedding," Belle said, drawing the older woman's attention away from staring daggers into her daughter's back. "I was so hoping to become more acquainted with Lady Hope. I don't think I've ever seen Gaston so taken with anyone before." Belle leaned forward in a conspiratorial manner. "Perhaps a match could be made between the two."

"Uh … yes, but … ah … it might be a little early to speak of such things. They just met after all," Beatrice, practically snarled in her ire.

"I must speak to Papa," Belle gushed happily, playing it up to the old dragon. "When you return home to Hastings, I'm certain arrangements can be made to have Hope remain here at court." Belle's smile was blinding. "Yes, I shall have Papa speak to Lord Gerald immediately. Well, I do hope you ladies enjoy this evening's festivities. Must be off now."

Belle left the women gawking behind her and mumbling about how a princess could be such a strange duck. She managed to make it over to the sitting area she shared with her family and take a seat on the sofa before she and Brutal gave in to their laughter.

Maurice, dozing lightly in his armchair, roused and asked, "And what has you two laughing like loons?"

Belle's laughter died down to a few chuckles before she answered, "Papa, Gaston is smitten with the Lady Hope."

"You don't say! I thought he'd pine after you until his dying day, my girl," the king replied incredulously.

"Well we were wrong," Thankfully, she added silently. "I wish for you to speak with Lord Gerald and procure his permission to have her remain here at court when his family returns home."

"Since when do you take an interest in the members of the court?" Maurice asked dubiously.

"Since I want my friend to find the same happiness I have with Rumpel. Please, Papa?" she asked sweetly, her eyes wide and pleading. She knew he could never refuse her when she looked at him like that.

"Very well, daughter, I will see to it immediately. I would like to see the lad settle down and produce and heir. You are so certain she will make a decent consort for him should he pursue her?"

"Papa, she's nothing like her ghastly sisters or her mother. She's got a lot of fire bottled up in her after having to be under that old harridan's thumb for so many years. Bea doesn't value her as she should," Belle mused. "But I do think she might be the one woman who could make Gaston happy."

Belle sat back and scanned the Great Hall, her eyes searching for Rumpelstiltskin as her father rose to go in search of Lord Gerald. A frown marred her delicate brow when she couldn't locate him anywhere in the room. Her worry didn't last long, however, when Penelope and Brutal's daughter, Lyssa, dodged around the many lords and ladies in attendance to make her way to her father's side.

"Lyssa, you're supposed to be with Mrs. Stoddard. She's going to worry when she can't find you," Brutal admonished gently, picking up his child and cradling her close to his chest.

Lyssa sniffled and pressed her tear-stained face into the crook of her father's neck. "But, Papa, my ear hurts. I d-don't want to be with Mrs. Stoddard. She's going to make me take my medicine and it's yucky," she whined.

Belle rose from her seat on the sofa and moved to Brutal's side, running her hand over Lyssa's soft golden locks. "Hush, darling, it's alright." To Brutal she said, "Does the medicine even work, Brutal? This is the third earache she's had in as many weeks."

"It's what the doctor had us purchase from the apothecary, highness. But no, it's not very effective," he replied, trying to soothe his daughter.

Belle glanced at the terrace doors which led out into the garden, recalling it had been the last place she'd seen her imp. "Come, let's go find Rumpelstiltskin. He may be able to do something to help her." She just hoped he wasn't in the middle of a deal. She didn't want to disturb him, but she couldn't stand to see a child in pain either.

*.*.*

Rumpelstiltskin sauntered out into the vast rose garden, pleased with himself. He'd made four deals in the last two hours, though none of the nobles had anything of real value … or what he considered valuable. He'd decided to barter for favors, thinking they might come in handy in the future. To be honest, he was more concerned with keeping his eye on his little bride to be. Even though he knew she hated court life, she presided over the nobles like a queen.

How he could ever have treated her as a servant, he didn't know. If he thought about it, however, had she ever really shucked her royal mantle? A royal could adapt to being a servant much less easily than a peasant could adapt to becoming a royal. But not his beloved. She'd made the choice to go with him, to be his servant and she'd taken her new role with the utmost seriousness. She'd had to deal with his ingrained nastiness and never batted her long lashes.

Fate was a funny thing. Sometimes it just snuck up on you whether you wanted it to or not. Belle's kind and giving nature had poured over into his life and chipped away at his heart just as she'd once chipped his teacup. She'd made him crave her company and her friendship and then finally her touch and her love until he was consumed with her.

And now he found himself going soft and it was all her fault. He smiled wistfully, definitely not a look you would find on any previous Dark One in the course of history. She'd made him want to be better than he was, but gods forbid if it should get out that the infamous Rumpelstiltskin was losing his touch. No, he decided, it was just her proximity to him while he was deal making. When she was in the room, he couldn't focus on anything but her, nothing more.

His inner demon growled with menace. Pushover! You've succumbed to the weakness of love, Spinner, and now your enemies will come to take her away from you and put you back on your knees. Is that what you want? To be on your knees in supplication again?

He ignored the voice in his head. He'd destroy anyone who tried to take his Belle from him. Her love wasn't a weakness; it was his strength. For the first time in centuries, his head wasn't clouded with doubt and his heart wasn't engulfed in darkness. She made him stronger and gave him focus.

Together they would find his Baelfire and be a family. Then he would find a way to break his curse. He wouldn't need it any longer and then it would be just a simple matter of removing the ring from Belle's finger and sharing a kiss born of true love. Yes, their future was bright. He just couldn't fathom what he'd ever done in his life to deserve his precious Belle.

Magic rippled in the air. He could feel it deep in his bones, calling to him. Jefferson. He moved through the garden along the path as it drew him to the spot beneath the plum tree where Belle liked to spend time reading. He wasn't, however, expecting his friend to be on his knees with a dagger pressed to the sensitive flesh of his exposed neck.

"Now is this any way to treat someone who is only trying to help you?" Rumpelstiltskin asked coldly, his voice carrying on the still air in his usual high-pitched tone. "Let Jefferson go."

"Why so you can kill me where you failed before?" Robin Hood asked, his dagger nicking the hatter's throat. "It's been months since the last time you tried to kill me. Why wait until now and lure me here with assurances to offer me help I don't need … especially from the Dark One?"

Rumpelstiltskin giggled, unfazed by the bandit's threat to his friend. It would just be a mere snap of his fingers to free the hatter before any harm could come to him. But if it made Robin feel better to think he had the upper hand, so be it. "Yes, as to that, I haven't brought you here to kill you, but to warn you."

"And why should I listen?"

"Because, dearie, the information I have for you just may very well save your pitiful life." His eyes flickered to Jefferson, trying to reassure him and at the same time taking note of the hatter's gaze fixed on something over his left shoulder. "Isn't that right, princess?"

Snow White stepped out from behind the tree which had concealed her, an arrow nocked in her longbow and aimed for the center of the imp's back. "Everyone knows you're not to be trusted, Rumpelstiltskin. Why should we?"

He didn't even hazard a glance over his shoulder at her. Even if by some chance her arrow would find purchase, it wouldn't kill him. It would hurt like hell, but it wouldn't kill him. Although he doubted Belle would appreciate blood all over her pristine garden path. Might as well get to the point of this little gathering.

"Regina knows you've taken up with the bandit, princess. Even now she's using the most powerful truth potion known to man on one of your little band of thieves. It won't take her long to find your encampment in the Dark Forest," he stated simply, steepling his fingers together under his chin.

Robin removed the dagger from Jefferson's throat and shoved him none too gently away from him to sprawl at the sorcerer's feet. Jefferson climbed to his feet and dusted off his clothes which were thankfully none the worse for wear before moving to sit on the garden bench to watch the show. Robin's eyes narrowed on Rumpelstiltskin, confident the mage wouldn't harm him with Snow ready to fire at his back. He should have remembered, however, his own previous failed attempt to kill the Dark One with the same weapon.

"I'll ask again…why help us?" the bandit asked.

"Oh, I'm not helping you," Rumpelstiltskin sing-songed. "I'm helping her." He gestured behind him with his thumb. With a flourish of his wrist he produced a large gold medallion, flames engraved along its surface and a large ruby carved into the shape of a dragon at its center. "Don't question my motives. Simply accept the aid which is offered." He held the medallion on its ornate link chain out to the thief.

"What's that supposed to do?" Snow asked.

"This, dearie, will allow you to come and go as you please in the Infinite Forest without getting yourselves trapped," he explained. "Regina wouldn't dare follow you there and you'll have a measure of safety for a time."

Rumpelstiltskin felt a prickle of unease and it had absolutely nothing to do with the pair of bandits surrounding him in the garden. Jefferson ducked his head to hide the grin spreading across his full mouth, just before a new voice joined their little group.

"You can drop the weapon now, my dear, or I can end you. Your choice."

Rumpelstiltskin turned to glare at his betrothed and the useless lump she carted around in the guise of her bodyguard. He closed his eyes and counted to ten, pinching the bridge of his nose as he felt the stirrings of a headache coming on. He opened his eyes, hoping he was imagining things. No, it was still his Belle with a handful of Snow White's long ebony tresses and a jewel hilted dagger to her throat.

"Belle, dearest, do be careful with that," he chided her gently.

"And just what did you expect me to do, hmm? I came in search of you to enjoy the fresh air for a spell and I find you being threatened by bandits. I would rather have you whole and fit for the ceremony tomorrow … without a gaping chest wound." she told him before giving Snow's hair another good yank. This time the former princess had the good sense to release her weapon, the bow and arrow clattering on the cobbled path. Belle gave Snow a shove in Jefferson's direction and watched as she collapsed next to him on the garden bench. "What is she doing here, Rumpel?"

"I had Jefferson bring her here," he explained, plucking the dagger from her nimble fingers and returning it to Brutal. He tucked her against his side, wrapping his arm around her waist in a possessive manner and placing a gentle kiss to her brow, hoping if she was within the circle of his arms she wouldn't put herself in harm's way … or try to kill anyone else in his defense. He wondered if he would ever truly figure his Belle out completely. She was a warrior at heart and would defend those she loved with her dying breath, whether they deserved her championing of them or not. His heartfelt opinion is that he was not, but it warmed him deep down in his very bones that she would defend him.

"Milady! What are you doing with him? I thought for certain he would have killed you when you let me escape from his dungeon," Robin gaped, his eyes wide with disbelief.

Rumpelstiltskin's thin lips curled back over his teeth in a sneer. "Actually, it's her you should be thanking for saving your worthless hide."

Robin cast her a half moon grin and bowed low to her. "Any chance you might be in need of rescuing?"

Belle snorted and arched a brow. "I hardly think I need rescuing from my betrothed."

"You're marrying him?" Robin asked, his mouth dropping open in an unbecoming manner.

Snow blanched. "Um … are you sure? Did he trick you or enchant you or …"

Belle glared at her, her fingers itching to get her hands on Brutal's dagger once more. "Watch your tone, princess. It's not too late to have you trussed up and delivered to Regina's doorstep," she warned in a low tone, her eyes flashing angrily. "I am marrying Rumpel because I love him. I need no more reason than that."

Rumpelstiltskin smiled tenderly down at Belle, but his words were for Snow. "One of the basic laws of magic, dearie. You cannot enchant someone to fall in love with you."

Snow slumped against the hatter sitting next to her and closed her eyes. "I feel as though I've slipped through a portal and ended up in an alternate reality. This is just too bizarre."

"Tell me they're not staying for the wedding," Belle added dryly, causing Rumpelstiltskin to trill another giggle.

"No, dear heart, I have a feeling Robin and Snow are anxious to return to the Dark Forest and move their camp," he assured her.

A whimper from the child in Brutal's arms drew his attention and he released Belle. "And what's wrong with you, little love?" he asked, smoothing his green-gold hand over Lyssa's golden tresses. To Brutal, he asked, "Is she ill?"

"An earache, milord," he answered respectfully. "The doctor prescribed a potion for it, but it doesn't seem to help."

Rumpelstiltskin placed his hand over the little girl's ear and called forth his healing magic as he cooed softly to her, "There now, little dearie, it will stop hurting in just a moment."

Snow and Robin shared a look of astonishment as the little girl wrapped her tiny arms around Rumpelstiltskin's neck and burrowed into his chest, abandoning her father's embrace for that of the mage. The child accepted him without fear and made Snow look upon Rumpelstiltskin in a new light. How could someone as dark as he was reported to be find willing acceptance from a child and the love of a woman such as Avonlea's princess? Belle slipped her hand into Rumpelstiltskin's warm grasp and twined her fingers with his, preparing to return the child to her governess.

"Brutal, see our guests to the kitchen and have Mrs. Potts prepare them something to eat before Jefferson returns them to their camp," the sorcerer commanded, leaving them gaping after him and Belle. He didn't care one wit for what they thought. They were no longer his problem…for now anyway.

*.*.*

Belle sat on the sofa once again in the Great Hall, her feet curled up under her long skirts and her journal open on her lap as she recorded the events of the day. Rumpelstiltskin sat next to her, his arm draped about her shoulders, his thumb brushing absently against the pale creamy texture of her skin on her upper arm. It was difficult for him to relax amidst so many people, but at least he was putting forth the effort for her sake.

The influx of guests had died down, many of the new arrivals escorted to guest rooms to settle in and the noise level in the Great Hall had quieted to a dull roar. Others in the court were taking advantage of an early luncheon served picnic-style on the castle grounds. But the engaged couple had no desire to join them, preferring to spend time together in their secluded corner. For the time being, Belle was happy people were afraid of her betrothed, for it kept them all at a distance.

Rumpelstiltskin pressed his lips to Belle's temple when her quill ceased its movement on the page. "What are you writing about, my darling?"

Belle sighed with contentment and turned her face up to his. "Just a few thoughts," she answered, resting her head against his shoulder.

"Are you going to let me read this one as well?"

"Perhaps," she teased. "Maybe I will gift it to you on our first wedding anniversary."

He nuzzled his nose against the curls at her crown and smiled into her hair. "So certain, are you, that we'll survive that long?"

Belle poked him in the ribs for his remark, earning a grunt of discomfort from him. "Forever isn't going to end after the first year, Rum."

His mood was bordering on playful as he said, "Perhaps we won't make it to our wedding day. You could throw me over for some handsome prince and jilt me at the altar."

Her mouthed flopped open in mock outrage. "And overnight we shall all magically grow gills and go live in Atlantis with the mermaids," she retorted with a laugh.

He reached up to capture one of her curls between his fingers, reveling in its softness as he brought his lips mere inches from hers. His voice was low and husky as his soft amber eyes focused on the temptation of her delectable rosebud mouth. "What would you do if I kissed you senseless … right here as we sit in your father's hall … surrounded by the court … for all to see?"

She reached up and laid her hand on the back of his neck beneath his long hair and urged him to close the distance between them. "I'd kiss you right back, of course," she replied breathily as her lips met his.

Rumpelstiltskin settled for light sipping kisses, not quite chaste, but nothing like the one's they'd shared previously in her sitting room. Despite his teasing, he wouldn't allow himself to get carried away with her on a sea of desire which was nowhere appropriate for mixed company. Belle emitted a soft whimper - which stabbed directly at his groin - when she didn't get what she wanted, but before he could either give in or push her away a soft throat clearing drew them apart.

"Isabelle Beaumont, this is not what I expected when I received your letter."

Belle squealed with delight and jumped to her feet, the sight of her closest school friend bringing her untold joy. "Abby! You came," she gushed, embracing her friend.

Abigail cast her a tight smile and disentangled herself from Belle's embrace. "What kind of letter is this?" she asked, thrusting the missive beneath Belle's nose. "I don't hear from you in over a year, Belle, and all I get is I need you. Please come for my wedding post haste. It's like you dropped off the edge of the world." She lowered her voice and whispered in an aside. "And if you're getting married, what the hell are you doing kissing the Dark One? I'd heard he'd taken you off as part of some illicit deal of his."

Belle glanced over her shoulder at Rumpelstiltskin, who climbed to his feet and shrugged noncommittally. "I thought I asked you to send an invitation," she chided mildly.

"Do you really think she would have come if she'd received an invitation with my name so closely linked to yours?" he scoffed.

Abigail watched their exchange with a dubious expression. "Belle, are you saying that you're marrying him?" she asked, her voice cracking on the last word.

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" he mumbled, slipping a possessive arm about Belle's trim waist.

Belle huffed laughingly. "I wonder."

Abigail's eyes widened as she watched their playful banter. "This really isn't some odd practical joke?"

"No, Abby. Rumpel and I are getting married tomorrow morning," Belle confirmed.

"Why?" Abigail asked, still unable to wrap her head around Belle's motives. At the exclusive finishing school they'd attended, Belle had always been the most analytical of all their friends. She was smart and brave and questioned everything. But Abigail thought she would at least marry someone human, if not normal.

"Because I love him, Abby, and he loves me. And before you start arguing about the Dark One being incapable of love, I will assure you he is," Belle insisted. "Now, will you stand up with me tomorrow, please?" she asked, her eyes pleading with her friend to stand by her in her decision.

Abigail grinned and shook her head slightly. "Of course, I will, Belle. I may not understand how you can bind yourself to Rumpelstiltskin of all people, but I will support you if it will make you happy."

Belle clasped Abigail's hand and squeezed, happy to have her friend there to share her happiness. "Will you take tea with us?"

"I really should wait for father and —" She was cut off as her name was called. "Damn!"

Belle shared a stunned look with her betrothed, astonished to hear such language coming from Midas' daughter. "What is it?"

Abigail rolled her eyes. Thankfully, years of good breeding kept her from stamping her foot. "You may as well know, father has betrothed me to King George's son. Unfortunately, father insisted on him tagging along with us to Avonlea."

"There you are," Prince James said as he reached her side. "His Majesty was wondering where you'd gotten off to."

Abigail sighed and smiled pleasantly at the prince. "James, I'd like to introduce you to my dearest friend, Belle Beaumont, Princess of Avonlea and her betrothed, Ru —"

"Rumpelstiltskin," the prince eked out in a pained whisper, the color draining from his handsome visage.

The Dark One stiffened, his lips curling into a feral smile which didn't match the anxiety in his eyes as James brushed his lips to the back of Belle's hand. Belle took Abigail's hand and drew her over to the sofa and summoned a servant to bring tea and refreshments, leaving him alone with the hapless prince. "Hello, shepherd."

This didn't bode well, the imp thought. Midas' daughter, the shepherd turned prince and Snow White all in the castle together at the same time. No this didn't bode well at all. Holy flaming fairies!

A/N: Don't ask where this chapter came from, because I really don't know. Too many ideas running amok in my head. Hope you enjoyed it, nevertheless. If I could have fit everything in this chapter, it would have been too long, so we now have a chance meeting between Charming and Snow, an awkward goose dinner and bachelor party for Rumpelstiltskin and a sweet goodnight coming next. Hopefully next chapter I can wrap up their last few hours before the wedding. Whether you liked this chapter or hated it, I still look forward to your comments. Thanks to all who faved and followed this story. xoxo