XVI

Maurice clutched the jewelry case tightly in both hands as he entered the antechamber where his only daughter awaited him, his job today, to walk her down the aisle and give her hand to the man … Dark One … imp … oh, hell! ... in holy matrimony. He was still uncertain the sorcerer could make her happy or refrain from hurting her again, but he had to trust her judgment. She'd always been able to see the goodness where others saw none and for her to remain steadfast in her assurances that there was a good and honorable man beneath the Dark One's outer façade … well, he would just have to take her word for it.

His watery blue eyes misted over when he saw her, standing there in the middle of the chamber in all her finery, surrounded by her attendants and maids. "Daughter," he breathed, sniffling a little. "You look like an angel; so like your mother."

"Oh, Papa, don't cry," she whispered, feeling her own eyes well with tears. "If you cry, I'll start crying and it will make Rum testy if I arrive at the altar with red-rimmed eyes."

Maurice snorted a laugh and kissed her cheek. His fingers brushed over the pearl choker she wore, and he smiled. "Your mother wore those the day she married me, my girl. I'm happy to see you wearing them, as well, on your own wedding day."

Belle returned his smile and hugged him tightly. "So am I."

He cleared his throat and glanced at the other occupants in the room, but they had moved a discreet distance away so as not to interrupt his time with his daughter. "I … ah … I have something else I know Jeanette would have wanted you to have today."

She looked down at the box he held out to her, a puzzled frown on her brow and bit her lip to stem the flow of tears which threatened more fiercely than ever as he lifted the lid to reveal her mother's tiara. It was the one he'd given her to wear on their wedding day when she'd become his consort. It was simple, hammered gold encrusted with rubies and diamonds, elegant and not ostentatious in the least. It was perfect.

"Papa, it … it's perfect, thank you," she stammered, overwrought with emotion. "Will you help me?" she asked, lifting it from the velvet box.

He set the box aside and took it from her, settling it amongst her chestnut curls and then admiring the effect and the way the candlelight reflected upon it. "My little princess."

Abigail peered out into the Great Hall, the first strains of Pachelbel's Canon in D trilling through the room. "It's time, Belle. And your sorcerer is looking a bit nervous, so I'd make haste if I were you," she chuckled.

Penelope handed Abigail and Hope their modest bouquets and straightened the trains of their gowns before knocking softly on the double doors leading into the Great Hall which had been transformed into a wedding chapel. The doors opened slowly, Brutal and Magnus on either side, holding them open.

Hope trembled, her nervousness clearly apparent as she stood frozen in the open doorway, the eyes of more than a hundred guests trained on her. Abigail leaned forward and whispered, "Relax, you'll be fine. Look at your beau up there. Concentrate on him and you'll forget anyone else is in the room." The tension in her body eased away as she met Gaston's tender gaze and she moved forward down the aisle without hesitation.

Belle giggled softly as she watched her best friend stare openly at the tall redheaded girl, tenderness and the first bloom of love in his eyes. "I might be returning to Avonlea sooner than I thought," she chuckled to her father as she took his arm and waited for Abigail to make her trek down the aisle as her maid of honor.

"Why do you say that?" the king asked, a befuddled frown upon his noble brow.

Belle pointed her bouquet in Gaston's direction and Maurice beamed. "Finally! I never thought I'd see the lad get over his infatuation with you." The king groaned. "Gah! Another wedding to plan. And I do not look forward to having Lady Bea as an in-law."

She bit her lip to keep from laughing at the look of abject misery on her father's face. And then she was stepping in time with him through the doors and out onto the carpeted runner leading to the altar, her eyes meeting her groom's, and all else faded away. The love in his eyes wrapped around her and made her warm, safe … happy, and she couldn't wait for her life to be joined with his.

The king leaned in to whisper, "Daughter, are you certain he's the one you want?"

"Yes, Papa."

Maurice plastered a smile to his face and nodded at Lord Smythe sitting on the end of a row as he passed. "I can't believe I'm going to have to tell people my son in law is the Dark One."

Belle bit the inside of her cheek and snorted softly. "I thought you'd come to terms with this."

"I have," he assured her. "But I'm your father before your king and it's my duty to make certain you're certain. So, are you certain?"

"Papa, you're rambling."

"Sorry."

A few more steps down the aisle and he said, "It's still not too late to change your mind."

Belle trained her gaze on Rumpelstiltskin and the puzzled look he cast her. He was surely dying to know what they could be discussing.

"Although after what I witnessed the other night in the kitchen, I suppose it's best to marry you off to him post haste," he said with a grimace.

"Papa," she groaned, heat rising along her neck to settle becomingly in the apples of her cheeks.

"But seriously, Belle, if this isn't what you want, I can have Gaston cause a distraction and we can slip out the side door."

"Papa!" she gasped, her step faltering and laughter bubbling from her lips. Several members of the court stared curiously and shook their heads. The girl had always been odd and now her sanity was being questioned that she was actually happy about marrying the Dark One.

"I'm teasing, darling," he murmured.

Rumpelstiltskin moved down the short flight of steps to stand at the bottom of the dais, waiting to take her hand from Maurice as they edged closer. Belle turned to her father and embraced him tightly, knowing he had teased her all the way down the aisle to chase away the bout of nerves which would otherwise have consumed her.

"I love you, Papa," she whispered.

Maurice brushed the single tear away from her cheek and pressed a kiss to her brow. "I love you, too, daughter." He turned to Rumpelstiltskin and joined their hands in his own, detaining them just a moment. "Take care of my girl, lad."

A smirk curled the Dark One's lips at the name his future father in law persisted on calling him as he dipped into a slight bow. "You have my word, sire."

Maurice smiled sadly as Belle was led up the steps by her betrothed to stand before the simple country pastor the Dark One had found to perform the ceremony. He didn't want any of the clerics from the Holy Order of Avonlea anywhere near their wedding. Maurice would let nothing ruin his daughter's wedding day, having waited too long, in his opinion, to attain her heart's desire.

Brother Patrick stepped forward and adjusted the spectacles on the end of his nose, the holy word already open in his hands. "Who gives this woman to this man to be joined in the bonds of holy matrimony?" he asked, his voice carrying throughout the cavernous room.

"I do," Maurice declared loudly so all could hear. "Her father, her king; I give them my blessing."

Brother Patrick nodded and eyed the couple before him as he began. "Belle, high and noble princess of the kingdom of Avonlea, do you enter into this union of your own free will, without coercion or any means which would give me cause to deny you this true and binding contract?"

Belle's eyes never left those of her groom, basking in the warmth held so deeply in their warm amber depths. "I, Belle, high and noble princess of the kingdom of Avonlea, do solemnly declare that I do so, without any lawful impediment, willingly choose Rumpelstiltskin for my husband."

It was clear to the pastor that Belle had indeed chosen the sorcerer, that this was a love match … no matter how odd. He turned to the mage and addressed him with the same question. "Rumpelstiltskin, do you enter into this union of your own free will, without coercion or any means which would give me cause to deny you this true and binding contract?"

Rumpelstiltskin's gaze caressed his bride's face with reverence, his voice low and raspy with emotion as he answered, "I, Rumpelstiltskin, do solemnly declare that I do so, without any lawful impediment, willingly choose Belle, high and noble princess of the kingdom of Avonlea, for my wife."

"If anyone here among you have reason to believe this union should not take place, it is your duty to your kingdom and to the throne to stand now and make such reasons known," the pastor intoned.

Jefferson arched a brow and looked out over the sea of faces in the congregation, wondering who would be going home today as a snail. He breathed a sigh of relief as silence reigned in the Great Hall … not that the imp would have noticed. The Dark One was totally and completely enraptured with his bride and paid attention to little else.

Rumpelstiltskin brushed his thumb across Belle's knuckles as the pastor droned on about the sanctity of marriage. He couldn't care less what the man had to say, knowing his duties to her as her husband. It was the fact his beautiful girl was actually standing before him in front of a clergyman - albeit a clergyman he'd had to bribe - promising him forever, which so puzzled him. This was the second time she'd promised, both of her own free will and he counted himself lucky to have found the one woman who saw something in him no one else ever had. She saw his heart, but she also saw the darkness and the fear he lived with, braving it all to be with him, and the knowledge nearly brought him to his knees.

"Belle and Rumpelstiltskin have chosen to recite their own vows," Brother Patrick went on. "Rumpelstiltskin?"

Belle raised her brows in askance and it took him a moment to realize the pastor was speaking to him. "I beg your pardon?"

"Your vows?" the pastor prompted.

Abigail took Belle's bouquet from her, so the groom could clasp both of Belle's hands in his as he began. "Belle, for so long, words have ruled my life. They're to be chosen with great care for my contracts and yet here I am entering into the most important of my life and they fail me. You came to me in a deal, my Belle, one which took you from a life of privilege and made you a servant. Yet, it was the best deal I've ever made. I expected you to fear me, to loath and despise me, but instead you showed me kindness and friendship and eventually love. You made me remember what it was to be a man instead of a monster and still I tossed it all away. I can never express how thankful I am that you forgave me, that you loved me enough to let me back into your heart and I will spend forever with you showing you just how much I love you. I pledge myself to you in good and in bad, in sickness and in health, until death takes me from you. This is my bond and my troth to be yours always."

Tears spilled over her lashes in a torrent to hear him declare himself, to be so open about his love for her before so many witnesses. "Rumpelstiltskin, when I made my decision to go with you, I did fear you. Yet, the more time I spent with you, the more the mask slipped away to reveal the man you really are. I could see you behind the dark humor and the darker moods, to the lonely sweet spinner, and it made me love you all the more. I love you to the very depths of my soul, Rumpel, forever. I pledge myself to you in good and in bad, in sickness and in health, until death takes me from you. This is my bond and my troth to be yours always."

The pastor cleared his throat and smiled broadly at the couple. "Belle, Rumpelstiltskin … you've chosen to exchange rings as a sign of your love and fidelity for one another. If you please?"

Belle smiled through her happy tears and reached up to brush a tear from the corner of his eye. They were both overwrought with emotion. It had taken them one trial after another to reach that moment and every tear she'd shed for him had been worth it. She took the heavy gold band from Abigail with shaking hands as Rumpelstiltskin took one from Jefferson, sliding it onto her finger above her betrothal ring. Belle gasped as she got her first good look at the ring she would wear from then until the day she died. It was yellow, rose and white gold, its intricate thin strands braided with tiny diamonds and sapphires between the delicate threads and she knew her beloved had made it for her from his own gold and magic.

He pressed a kiss to her knuckle as he whispered, "A token of my love and a symbol that I choose you, my Belle. With this ring I thee wed."

Her smile was radiant as she in turn slid the ring onto his finger. "A token of my love and a symbol that I choose you, Rumpel. With this ring I thee wed."

Brother Patrick placed his hand upon their heads and said a prayer for their union before saying where all could hear, "One heart, one mind, one soul are you joined. What the gods have joined together, let no man put asunder. I now pronounce you man and wife. You may now kiss the bride."

Rumpelstiltskin gathered her gently into his arms, pressing his lips to hers, tasting the saltiness of her happy tears. It was a heady feeling to kiss her for the first time as husband and wife, all the joy in his heart spilling over into his gentle kiss. He could have happily stood there for an eternity just kissing her, knowing she belonged to him and him alone. Her fingers twined into the hair at his nape as his arms pressed her closer and he emitted a small breathless sigh against her lips. Someone barked an uncomfortable cough. It sounded a lot like Jefferson and the sound brought him back to his senses, making him pull back enough to see her flushed cheeks and heavily-lidded eyes filled with the stirrings of desire.

Jefferson clapped him on the back and was the first to offer his congratulations to the couple as the court erupted in subdued cheers, offering grudging support for the newly married couple. It was the least they could do for their princess and the sorcerer whose deal it had been to save their kingdom. Rumpelstiltskin led her down the carpeted steps of the dais and back down the aisle, Jefferson with Abigail on his arm and Hope on Gaston's following behind them.

*.*.*

The receiving line leading into the Grand Ballroom, comprised of the king, bride and groom, and their four attendants, was an unmitigated disaster. Their guests made their way along the line fairly well until they reached the radiant bride and her scowling groom. With a bow or a quick curtsey, they hurriedly moved off. Finally, Belle had enough of Jefferson's snickering and Rumpelstiltskin's glaring and led him off to the high table where they would partake in a brunch her father had insisted upon.

"Can you not just act civil for one formal engagement?" she asked with a weary sigh as he held out her chair, pushing it in as she settled on the cushioned seat.

He sat beside her and took the ewer of sweet mulled wine from the servant, pouring a liberal amount into her goblet. "Believe me, my lady wife," he paused, smiling smugly as the title rolled sinuously from his tongue, "this is quite civil compared to what I am capable of."

Belle snorted as she sipped delicately from the goblet and let the bouquet and flavor caress her tongue. "Seriously?" she asked, tossing a dry look his way. "You have impeccable manners, darling. There's no excuse —"

Rumpelstiltskin poked at the seared sea bass on his plate. "Perhaps I don't want these court dandies drooling all over what rightfully belongs to me, dearie," he retorted, taking a bite and refusing to turn her way so she could witness the jealousy in his eyes firsthand.

She was silent for a full five seconds as his words sank in and she chuckled. "Oh, Rum, there's no reason for you to be jealous. I lived with them a lot longer than you; some I grew up with. Never once did I find myself wanting a match with any of them." She reached over and twined her fingers with his, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "You're the only man I ever wanted to marry, the only man I've ever trusted with my heart."

"Yes, and we know how well that worked out … in the beginning," he said sourly.

"It's the ending which matters," she murmured, having to have the last word. "And Rumpel?"

"Hm?" he asked around a mouthful of bacon wrapped asparagus.

"It's you I'm going home with," she purred, a rosy blush creeping up her neck. Heat simmered low in her belly as she watched his face fall slack and his pupils dilate just a bit.

"Daughter, could you please refrain from teasing my son in law before he incinerates the table with a look, hm?" Maurice snarked from her left.

Belle's blush deepened, her husband's warm laughter echoing in her ears.

*.*.*

Rumpelstiltskin's patience was worn thin. They'd barely been at their own reception for an hour and already he was wishing he could just whisk Belle away in a swirl of magic off to their home high in the mountains. "Belle, love, how much longer are you going to punish me?"

Her tinkling laughter sent a shiver of pleasure tripping along his spine and a deep rumbling growl sounded low in his throat. "I believe you gave me permission for this wedding, darling, and with only three days to plan. I'm simply following our contract to the letter," she teased, twirling out before he reeled her back in as they waltzed across the parquet floor.

"I think you might have misread that clause, dearie," he snarked, the imp in him coming out to play the part of the deal-making Dark One. "The contract states I would give you three days to plan a wedding … not a reception."

Belle pursed her lips, drawing his gaze as she moved her fingers along his shoulder to tease the curls just behind his ears, knowing it drove him mad. "Aren't you being a bit technical? Weddings and the follow up celebration go hand in hand, wouldn't you say?" She said the last, her nose brushing his and her lips so close to his own he …

"I will only tell you this once more, madam; the only one of your daughters I care to associate with is Hope. She's witty and charming and intelligent and I don't care for the way you treat her —"

Belle's head whipped around, and she missed a step as she tried to see around Rumpelstiltskin's shoulder. Her husband propelled her forward and away from the irate voice of her dear friend. "It's not your concern, Belle."

"But, Rum —"

"Let him fight for her." His eyes softened as he caught her gaze. "It will be all the sweeter when he wins her." He laughed softly, his nose crinkling. "Perhaps he'll want to make a deal to do away with that harridan he'll be saddled with as a mother-in-law. I could always turn her into a snail. Hope could put her in a terrarium."

"Rumpel!" she gasped … only to fall into a fit of giggles at the mental image his words conjured.

Abigail and Hope were waiting for Belle as he led her from the dance floor. "I know you're anxious to begin your journey home, Belle, so let's get you ready, shall we?" Midas' daughter asked, taking her role as maid of honor rather seriously.

"But —"

Belle reached up on her toes and kissed him softly, cutting off his protests. "I promise I won't be long. I love you!" she called over her shoulder as her ladies dragged her away to change.

He raked a frustrated hand through his long hair and groaned. Jefferson clapped him on the back before slinging an arm around his shoulders and steering him in the opposite direction. "Come on, Rum, you look like you could use a drink."

The Dark One scowled at the hatter, but followed along regardless. "I don't need a drink!" he grumbled. "I need to be away from this bloody madhouse."

Jefferson led him to a small parlor near the entrance hall where Belle would meet him when she was ready to leave. Rumpelstiltskin paced before the cold hearth as Jefferson poured them a decent measure of scotch. He snatched it from the hatter, tossed it back, handed Jefferson the empty tumbler and then took the one the hatter had poured for himself; downing it swiftly and giving him that one back as well.

The milliner's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline, a wide grin on his lips. "Well … feel better?"

The sorcerer twirled his wrist with a flourish and said, "Not remotely." Maurice entered the room and headed straight for the decanter of scotch, Gaston on his heels. "And it seems to have gotten worse," he mumbled under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"That woman has got to go, Sire!" Gaston fumed, his face bright red. "How am I supposed to court Hope if her mother is constantly pushing her other two daughters at me at every available opportunity?"

Maurice tossed back his drink and poured another before settling down into a plush armchair and leveling his heir with a weary look upon his weathered face. "Just what would you have me do, lad? Lord Gerald is one of my most trusted advisors. I can't very well toss his wife out of the castle on her noble rump!"

Gaston collapsed onto the sofa and pulled the abandoned decanter of scotch towards him. "I don't see why they can't just go home. If Gerald is here, Hope would be properly chaperoned. There's no reason that woman has to remain here at the palace."

Rumpelstiltskin giggled, an idea forming in his mind on how he might be able to help his new so-called in-law … for a price … and cause a bit of mischief for a certain queen in the process. "Care to make a deal, dearie?"

"No … um, what kind of deal?" Gaston asked, eyeing the Dark One, his dark eyes narrowing with suspicion. It was well known by all close to the princess that the sorcerer held no tender feelings for his new family and he couldn't help but be wary.

Jefferson snickered and leaned forward in his chair, his grey eyes alight with interest. Maurice shook his head and sipped at his drink, refusing to get in the middle of this until he heard the Dark One's price, and Rumpelstiltskin smirked as he stretched his left arm out along the mantel above the hearth, the fingers of his right hand rubbing together in anticipation.

"You wish the girl's mother and sisters out of your hair. I may have just the thing in mind to make that happen for you," he said, his voice high-pitched, reminding the king and Gaston of the night he'd come to make his deal with Belle. "The question is, dearie … what are you willing to barter in exchange?"

"Anything."

"Gaston!" the king reprimanded. "He may be Belle's husband now, but he's still the Dark One."

Rumpelstiltskin smiled darkly, enjoying the game. "Don't worry. This won't even require magic, so the cost will be small. A favor, if you will. It will make my wife happy to see you married and settled with your lady love," he explained.

"A favor?" Gaston asked incredulously, unable to believe his luck.

"It could be something as simple as bringing some of her favorite fruit to the Dark Castle. Don't worry your dull little head over it." Another impish giggle. Then again, he might gift Belle with the favor owed just to see what she would do with it. "Do we have a deal?"

"What do you have in mind, Rum?" Jefferson asked.

Rumpelstiltskin changed out of his wedding finery with a snap of his finger, once more dressed in leather, silk and his favorite dragon hide coat. He giggled again and produced a full-length mirror, positioning it where the other three occupants in the room wouldn't be seen when he summoned Regina. "Come out, come out, dearie!"

It only took a moment for Regina's scowling visage to appear in the silvery glass. "Rumpel, how lovely," she said dryly. "I thought you didn't want to be disturbed on your holiday or whatever it is you're about."

"Yes, but see I'm doing the disturbing, therefore it's perfectly acceptable."

Regina sneered back at him, her ruby lips curling. "Well? What is it you want?"

He tapped the tips of his fingers together as he made her wait, allowing her impatience to grow. "I am calling in a favor; one of the many you owe me." Her sneer grew, yet she held her tongue, willing to hear him out in hopes that one of his infernal favors could be stricken from the books. "A client of mine has two lovely daughters of marriageable age and I wish to send them to your court. They can act as your ladies in waiting and you can help them find suitable husbands."

Regina groaned. "Seriously? You think I have nothing better to do with my time? I'm not a babysitter, Rumpel."

He quirked a brow at the queen. "And I don't recall asking you to babysit. I'm asking you to find them husbands. Give charge of them over to one of your people; don't really care. Just prepare for their arrival."

"Fine," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, and you are not allowed to use magic on them, dearie. I did promise my client. So, do try to be on your best behavior," he trilled, a positively wicked grin and a giggle accompanying that statement.

"What!?" she shrieked.

"You heard me. Now be a good girl and heed my warning." With a flick of his wrist, the mirror vanished, cutting off the queen's shriek of outrage at being dismissed and forced into something she didn't want to do. He turned to the king, informing him, "You will need to see to it that the ladies bring a letter of introduction to the queen."

"What are you doing, love?" Belle asked from her position in the open doorway, eyes narrowed with suspicion, as she brushed imaginary lint from the sleeve of her ivory traveling costume. "I thought you were ready to depart?"

The Dark One quailed under her glare and retreated to his cage, leaving the spinner's mouth gaping open guiltily. "Just a little deal, dearest. Nothing to concern yourself over."

"If it involves Regina, then yes, I have cause to worry."

He moved to her side, his heart swelling with love for her. She wasn't upset that he was dealing, but rather with whom he was dealing. His Belle was concerned for him. Taking her hands in his, he kissed each one in turn. "I promise there is no cause for you to worry. I will tell you all the details if you wish once we're on our way."

He led her out into the courtyard, her family, friends and Jefferson following. She turned to her father and lost herself in his comforting arms. "I love you, Papa," she whispered as she pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"I love you, too, daughter. I'll miss you terribly," he croaked, his voice thick with unshed tears. Brutal stepped to the king's side and held out a wrapped bundle. Maurice took it from him and presented it to the former princess. "I commissioned this for you … a wedding gift."

"Papa, you've done so much already. This isn't necessary," she protested.

"This is for you. The Dark One got my daughter; you get this." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "To keep him in line."

Rumpelstiltskin rolled his eyes, having heard the king's words. Belle unwrapped the bundle to find a short sword and dagger, light in weight for easy maneuverability, made of the finest goblin steel in the land. Each blade had runes engraved into the shiny steel for protection and on the handle her name was inscribed. Next to the 'B' was the king's crest and next to the 'e' was the crest of the Dark One.

"Papa," she groaned, throwing herself back into the king's arms. "Thank you. This is just —" Words failed her as she looked down at the weapons.

"So, you'll always be able to protect yourself. I trust your husband to watch over you, but it doesn't hurt to be able to look after yourself."

Rumpelstiltskin waited patiently with Jefferson while Belle said goodbye to Brutal, Penelope, Abigail, Gaston and a handful of others. "You don't mind if I just use the coin to go home, do you? I'd really rather not have to endure a carriage ride with a newly married couple," the hatter asked, casting his friend a sly grin.

"I think that would be best. And Jefferson, thank you," the imp said gruffly, his voice ringing with sincerity instead of his usual condescension and sarcasm.

Jefferson cleared his throat and nodded, turning the coin in his hand and disappearing in a blink. Belle finally joined him at the carriage and he handed her up into the conveyance, following behind. She waved from the open window as they trundled over the cobbles towards the gates of the city before settling against the seat and curling against her husband's side.

He dropped a kiss to the top of her head and finally felt himself relax. "So, dearest, where would you like to go on your honeymoon? Anywhere you wish to go; it's your choice."

Belle smiled happily, her eyes shining as she met her husband's warm gaze. There was only one place she wished to go for now, the one place she'd never wished to leave in the first place. "Home."

A/N: They're finally married! And happy! And on their way HOME! *happy dance* Oh, and boy is Regina going to have her hands full with Beatrice and her daughters. Fun, fun, fun! Three chapters to go, dearies!