Title: Letting Go
Summary: True Love's Kiss can break any curse. And in order to wake Belle up, as she lies still and cold from the Sleeping Curse, Rumpelstiltskin must ask himself if he's willing to give up his own.
Rating: K+
Genre: Romance, Family
Author's Notes: This was written after I've binged OUAT clips, and the one where Rumpelstiltskin's curse receded in Belle's dream world in S6E01 struck me. Did it mean that the Dark One's curse could be broken in this place outside of Storybrooke – as it had nearly been in the Enchanted Forest?
It's been years since I've last seen a full episode and I've based my information on clips from the internet as well as my memory. However, OUAT is nothing if not convoluted in its stories and any mistake I've made in timelines or certain details etcetera is purely to be expected, I'm afraid.
Rumbelle is my favourite couple of the show, and one of the main reasons why I tuned in when it aired. But their relationship was nothing if not turbulent. Hopefully, this take will give them a Happy Ending, a little bit sooner.
oOoOo
Dancing with the Dark One, Belle thought, was like dancing in a dream.
While holding his scaled hand, that was warm and not unpleasant to the touch as she'd imagined, and twirling under his arm it seemed as though the entire Dark Castle was changing. Light streamed in through the windows, chasing away the creeping shadows that seemed to whisper in her mind, the tapestries on the walls no longer showing gruesome images of torture and death but rather pious and noble people in rich garments.
A tale followed the dance, the story of a man – a father – who loved his child and now professed his love for her.
Heart warming at the words, at the promised change for betterment if she'd choose him, Belle wondered why she'd ever been afraid of him and wished they could've met years before. Before, when she still believed her father would trust her to choose her own fate. Before, when she still believed that her fiancé respected her enough to listen to her words. Before, when she still believed she could be loved unconditionally by those she loved.
Slowly, carefully, she raised herself up on her toes to kiss this man, Rumpelstiltskin, whom she'd called a beast, willing to believe in his love for her. The kiss was soft, and a warmth spread from where their lips touched.
It felt familiar.
It felt like home.
It felt like she could stay here for a hundred years or kiss him a thousand times more. It felt like the time she'd kissed him by the spinning wheel and he'd become so terribly angry. It felt like when she'd woken up in the hospital with a stranger in dark clothes standing over her with anxious eyes. But not a stranger, it was Rumpelstiltskin, whom she knew. This kiss was not filled with tears and goodbyes, as it'd been when he'd left on a quest to rescue his grandson. It was not as heartfelt as when they'd said their vows to each other.
Memories of a thousand kisses flooded her mind, feelings and events from years past where she'd stood by Rumpelstiltskin's side and he'd fallen and gotten up, but in the end had ultimately chosen power.
Stepping back, the warmth leaving her body, and her heart left feeling aching and raw, Belle saw a glimpse of his human face. She blinked and the scales had grown back.
"Belle?" Rumpelstiltskin asked, the look on his face one she'd often seen in Storybrooke but never before in this form of his.
"Rumpelstiltskin, I… I remember. We've done this before."
"Yes."
And he told her of their story, of the child that she was carrying, what she'd done to protect it but that she now needed to wake up.
Her child!
Hands quickly pressing against her still flat stomach, Belle wondered how she could've forgotten about it.
The man before her – for he was a man, it didn't matter whether he was covered in scales or clad in black – held out his arms beseechingly. But more than a man, Belle realised, he was a father. He'd spent centuries trying to find his firstborn; his love and his heart was boundless concerning his children. She wished she could share in that infinite love of his.
She needed to wake up. Though less than a week old she loved her child with every fibre of her being and she wanted, more than anything, to see it grow up. To swaddle it in her arms. To see it run into its father's arms. The father who she still so desperately loved.
Licking her lips, she spoke. "There is only one way to break a curse, Rumpelstiltskin."
He nodded. "Yes, True Love's Kiss. That's why we're here. I need you to fall in love with me again – to want to come back home."
Tears gathered in her eyes. "I do want to come back! And I do love you, Rumpelstiltskin. I always have, and I always will."
A smile broke out on his face, and he eagerly took a step forward. "Oh, my darling Belle." But she stepped out of his reach, tears spilling over and running down her cheeks. "I don't understand. If you love me, then – come! Let us go!"
"I don't think I can," she said miserably.
"Why not?"
"Because True Love's Kiss can break any curse – but you're still holding onto yours."
Watching as realization dawned on his face - of the prize he would have to pay in order to save her - of how his arms dropped to his sides, Belle knew that she would not be chosen and her heart broke. Crying freely, she lamented her fate. She would never receive love from those closest to her, not when they loved something else more than her.
"It's not whether I want to come home. It's about whether you're willing to give up power to save your wife and child."
He looked at her stricken, mouth opening and closing, speaking without words, his mind too shocked, too full of painful memories of his past that mimicked the present.
Looking around, drying her tears the best she could, it struck her that this was not the Red Room, full of fire and agony. A short respite made possible by some feat of magic on his part.
"It's nice to see you again," she admitted; it was the truth. "How long do we have before this magic has run its course?"
"Less than an hour," he choked out, eyes filled with terror.
Fear seized her heart, but Belle mustered up a brave smile. "At least we got to see each other again, one last time."
Her words were met with a fierce expression. "No!" She gasped at his voice. "I will not have you be a living dead in from of me, your body still and pale, without breath or pulse, while your spirit suffers torment with no end. I will save you, Belle, and I will save our child. I will not be a husband who lost his wife and child again. I refuse!"
Hope beating fast in her chest, its soft wings holding the pieces of her heart together, Belle held her breath. Waiting. Watching. Longing.
Opening her arms in a silent invitation, she stood still, wanting to see what he would do. Was his clever mind trying to find a loophole, some other way to wake her without having to lose his powers in the process? Did he want her to wait until he figured out a way to have both? How many hours, days, months – she shuddered, years - would she need to suffer in fire before he could prioritize her?
Stepping closer, he carefully cupped her cheeks. His hands were warm, and his brocaded vest of finest spider silk soft under her touch as she rested her hands on his chest. His green eyes were determined, though fear was battling to be heard in their depths.
It felt like a gulf stood between them, a rickety old bridge the only point of crossing.
"Won't you come to me?" she asked.
"I just don't know how to protect you without my magic," he confessed, resting his forehead against hers.
The light filtered through his tresses, casting a soft shade, the world becoming smaller until it was just the two of them. She soothed his shoulders, hoping to diffuse his fears. "We can protect each other," she promised, feeling him shudder under her palms.
"I want your love, Belle. I want to be loved by you more than I've wanted anything in my life – except for finding my son." He spoke in hushed tones, the secret too important to be risked being overheard by others.
As sure as if she was a magic practitioner herself, Belle felt with that whispered confession something warm and fragile in her hands – his heart. Placing it in her chest next to her own, to keep it safe, she whispered back, feeling how he now held hers in his hands, willing to trust in them, "Then won't you love me?"
Their breaths mingled, and she could feel him nod before he angled her head just-so and kissed her.
Euphoria filled her being, the warmth from where their lips touched stronger now than it had been before – it was surely magic – and when she pulled away for air she could see the scales receding, no longer quickly coming back but staying where they were.
"Kiss me again," she cried jubilant, an echo of their past. "It's working!"
The triumph over her discovery was quickly overshadowed by the simple joy of being in her husband's arms, her own encircling his neck and holding him close, the warmth of magic – the purest there was, True Love – filling her being the longer they kissed. When her fingertips and even toes tingled from the feeling, and she felt Rumpelstiltskin's regular hands caressing her cheek, Belle thought that True Love's Kiss was something quite special, and she wouldn't mind staying here a little longer.
Waking to the feel of cold, hard stone at her back was jarring. Feeling disoriented, her lungs unused to breathing again, and an acute loss with her empty arms, Belle looked around to see Rumpelstiltskin standing over her. He seemed equal parts shocked and overjoyed.
"Belle, you're back! It worked!"
He reached for her hand, but she was already swinging her legs off the table. "Rumple!" she cried, throwing herself in his arms.
The force made him stumble backwards and almost fall. "My leg," he muttered, as his limp was no longer supported by magic.
"Oh, sorry." And she tried to step back, let him regain his balance, but he simply pulled her back in his embrace. Clinging to him, Belle greedily inhaled his scent, feeling his jacket under her cheek.
"I thought I'd lost you," he said into her hair. "Your father wouldn't help me. He'd rather you'd be kept in a cursed sleep than be alive and awake with me."
"You saved me," she said. Not even the news of her father's inaction could fully dampen her joy. She looked into his face, no longer scaled – and would never again be so. "You chose me, us, over your power," she said awed.
He nodded. "There was never really anything to choose between." And he wiped away a tear that escaped her eyes.
"I love you," Belle said.
"Yes, and I love you too," Rumpelstiltskin said.
But unlike that walk so long ago in the forest of Storybrooke where they'd reunited, this time there was no business that needed to be taken care of, no magic that took precedence over their love and reunion. So, they shared True Love's Kiss, and revelled in its magic.
Later, when overenthusiastic kisses forced them to cease lest Rumpelstiltskin really did fall, later, when emotions had calmed and they leaned against the stone altar, did he share all that had happened in the weeks since she was put under the curse.
Standing side by side, with his hand across Belle's stomach, and her arm encircling his, did she listen with interest of all that had occurred. But no matter how interesting the events retold, it could not shake her focus from her husband. One moment her head rested against his shoulder, another she was playing with his fingers. Frequently, his tale was halted by her lips covering his lips, or his cheek or his neck. Such interruptions were met with a few minutes of delicious silence before the tale began anew.
Time seemed to move slow in this strange place they found themselves in, but the couple was in no hurry. Perhaps this place was in a pocket of time all of its own, a day that would never end – forever untouched by night and darkness - where the marble floor was circled by pillars with passing white clouds outside of them.
At last, the story ended, concluding at the present moment.
Belle pressed closer to his side, her own hands covering his on her stomach. "And now we're here."
"Only I don't know how to get us out of here. The portal – " he nodded to his right where an empty archway stood " – is closed to us now that I'm… now that I'm without magic." He took out his dagger from his coat and the silver blade was empty of words, his name gone.
A thrill shot through her stomach. "You're free."
He nodded. "Now there's only Rumpelstiltskin in me."
"That's the best part," she said.
His lips twitched in response, a sad little smile. It was the smile of a man not used in believing in himself, of believing others' love for him. They suffered from the same condition, though caused by different experiences.
Reaching for her husband, because sometimes she believed he simply got lost in her eyes instead of reading the message in them, Belle pulled him into a tight hug, hoping he could feel how their hearts beat in the same rhythm, hoping he could gain comfort.
Looking over his shoulder, Belle grinned. "Though we can't use magic to get us out of here, I see another way." She nodded and indicated with her head as he turned to see what she was looking at. "There are stairs over there." She smirked and couldn't help but tease, "I can't believe it went unnoticed by my eminent husband."
He pulled her in closer as she moved to give him support for his bad leg as they slowly walked forwards. "I was otherwise engaged."
She laughed, delighted. "You are excused."
They stopped at the top of the stairs, its bottom hidden by clouds as it gently curved downwards.
"I'm sorry, Belle. This is going to be tough on you. I believe we're on the top of a mountain."
Eyebrows shooting up, Belle looked at the conspicuous lack of a handrail on the white steps. They were wide enough for a party of four and shone with a lustre neither marble nor granite possessed.
"We'll take it one step at a time," she assured them both, tightening her grip on his waist. "We'll make it down, safe and sound."
A finger under her chin shifted her focus and she received a soft kiss planted on her lips.
"Thank you, for always standing by me."
"Thank you, for choosing me."
And they took that first step of many, not knowing where they would end up or what they'd have to face, but nevertheless knowing that they had each other.
oOoOo
Several months later when the people of Storybrooke had last seen the Dark One, when the threat of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde and splitting a person into two entities had passed, when calm seemed to have finally settled in the small town: a portal was opened and Rumpelstiltskin, with a new cane and his old limp, and a noticeably pregnant Belle stepped through.
There was much commotion and much talk and whispers among the citizens who wondered what it all meant. Where had they been? Why had they come back and would any more follow them? Was this the end to all the quiet days?
The couple moved back in their house and made an appointment with the hospital for a check-up for the baby.
Henry Mills, a True Believer and with no fear in his heart, stopped by Mr Gold's pawnshop that had once again reopened and happily greeted his grandparents as they were cleaning forgotten objects by the counter.
Belle rolled her eyes and stifled a groan. She was a first-time mother, not yet thirty. The title was too much. "Ah, hi, Henry. You know, I told you before, Belle, is just fine."
"Right."
He grinned apologetically, but she saw Rumpelstiltskin's amused grin out of the corner of her eye. She smacked his arm.
"Not everyone is immortal," she said reproachingly. "It messes up the family tree when curses and stopped time are involved."
"Yes dear," Rumpelstiltskin agreed calmly.
Henry looked between the pair of them, unbothered. "Are you shorter?" he abruptly asked Belle with all the tact an adolescent was known for. She stared at him, stunned into silence. "It's only, I know I'm not tall – yet! I'm still growing! – but it seems like you've shrunk or something, because I can swear that I'm taller than you are now."
Colour rising in her cheeks, Belle spluttered, the right words to express her indignation unwilling to come forth coherently. Rumpelstiltskin took a look at her and rounded the counter, ushering the boy to the door.
"It's been lovely seeing you, Henry, but I think it's for the best if you'd go home for today."
"Okay," he easily agreed, no offence taken. Henry opened the door and grinned at the both of them. "It's great to have you back. I've missed you." And he gave an awkward one-armed hug to his grandfather before running out the shop, unused to showing affection to the older man.
"I'm wearing flats!" Belle shouted after him, but to no avail as the door had already closed.
The whole encounter had been a swift emotional whirlwind – embarrassing and insulting on Belle's part, happy and uncomfortably overwhelming on Rumpelstiltskin's part – that left them both feeling frazzled in its wake.
Rumpelstiltskin walked back, but one look at his wife – at her diminutive stature that was now so obvious to everyone – he snickered, which turned into a laugh at her dismissive "Oh, hush you!"
Folding her in his arms, something that became more and more difficult as her stomach expanded, he placed a kiss on her head. "You're exactly the right size for me."
Though Belle smiled, he was not spared from another smack to his arm.
oOoOo
On a spring day when the sun shone, the wind had regained its warmth and the birds chirped in the trees, a boy was born.
His parents named him Gideon, from a hero in his mother's favourite book, with the wishes that he could grow up to be as his namesake. He had brown eyes like his father, a big tuft of dark hair on his head, and ten fingers and toes. In all respects, the parents thought, their child was perfect.
Running through the hospital corridors some hours after delivery was Sir Maurice, Belle's father, having been alerted to the birth of his grandson by his less than favourite son-in-law.
Skidding to a halt by the sight of said son-in-law, in his customary dark garb – tie and jacket gone, buttons undone at the collar and signs of fatigue on his face – outside of the room with Belle's name on it, he felt his expression darken.
"Moe," Rumpelstiltskin greeted him with his curse name, stepping in front of the door and hindering his access.
"I want to see my daughter," Maurice demanded without preamble and made a move for the handle.
Rumpelstiltskin stopped him, his impassive face still making the taller man's spine shudder, memories from both worlds unpleasant in their every encounter.
"Just a second, dearie."
Maurice glared. "What do you want? You can't stop me from seeing her!"
"Lower your voice," Rumpelstiltskin hissed, glancing through the glass pane in the door where an oblivious and delighted Belle was cooing at the baby in her arms. "Just a few words of caution before you go in."
"Threats, you mean," Maurice corrected him snidely, rising to his full height.
"If that's how you want to take it," Rumpelstiltskin shrugged. He levelled the older man with a hard stare, one Maurice found he could not look away from. "My wife is in there right now, in a state of extreme happiness. Be careful of how you act so this day and her memories of it aren't spoiled."
"Is that all?" he asked suspiciously, eyes narrowed.
"No." Rumpelstiltskin twirled his cane in his hand, seemingly more in thought than threat, though it did not stop Maurice from taking half a step back, all too familiar with its taste. "I don't like you, Moe, and I probably never will. But Belle loves you, and she doesn't have any other blood relatives alive, you're the only one left. So if you want to stay in our lives, if you want to be a father and a grandfather… please – " the word was said through clenched teeth " – behave yourself." He straightened his back and said confidently, "Any children Belle has will be fathered by me, so whether you like it or not – we're stuck with each other."
Shackles rising at the words, chagrined that his daughter had bound herself to such a beast, Maurice nonetheless nodded in agreement. Arguments could be had another day. Right now, there were more pressing issues.
"Let's go in then." Rumpelstiltskin walked through the door, holding it open for Maurice to come through.
Belle looked up, dark circles lining her eyes, her hair matted after hours in delivery. "Rumple!" she said happily before her eyes settled on Maurice and her mouth gaped open. "Father?" Eyes watered with tears, but none fell. "I'm so happy you came!" she cried.
Seeing his daughter made Maurice tear up as well as he sat down by her bedside. "Hello, Belle." Swaddled in her arms was a tired but awake baby, its pink and wrinkled face peeking up from the folds. "And this must be the baby," he said feeling a different kind of love, but no less potent, as when he'd first laid eyes on his daughter.
"Yes, this is Gideon. Gideon, meet your grandfather Maurice." The pride in her voice was unmistakeable. She looked at him and raised her precious load. "Would you like to hold him?"
Across the other side of the bed, dark brown eyes gazed steadily at him, their depths too deep to read the ill will and wicked thoughts that ran through the man. Ignoring him, Maurice instead accepted the offer and gently rocked the newly laden weight in his arms.
"Gideon?" he asked, wondering where the namesake came from.
"It's from the book mother gave me, if you remember. My favourite one," Belle explained. Drawn to her child, unable to keep away, Belle inched closer and gently took one of Gideon's hands in her own. "We didn't know for the longest time if it was a boy or a girl, but if it had been a girl we would've named her Colette."
Maurice's head snapped up. "Colette?"
"After mother."
Father and daughter looked in each other's eyes and an unspoken moment of shared sorrow and longing passed between them.
He cleared his throat. "Yes, she would've liked that. But Gideon is a strong, good name. It will serve him well."
The small child looked up at his grandfather, brown eyes meeting blue. And just like that, Maurice knew that he could never leave his daughter or grandchild, that for as long as he lived he wanted to be a part of their lives. He knew he'd have to at least pretend to get along with his son-in-law, but that was an unpleasant thought that would ruin the moment.
"He's got my eyes, don't you think," Rumpelstiltskin spoke up, promptly ruining the moment.
Maurice bit his tongue to keep from saying something sarcastic in return, aggravated that he had to make his presence known.
But he had spoken the truth. Gideon did have his father's eyes, dark brown with unfathomable depth. But they were gentler, Maurice mused as he gazed at them, warmer. And no innocent could have such wicked thoughts, regardless of its parentage.
It was with a heavy heart that he said goodbye when visiting hours were over. Unwilling to go home to his empty house just yet, he left the door slightly ajar behind him and took a moment to look at the family in the room through the glass pane.
Rumpelstiltskin held his son, caressing the cheek, the fingers, the hair and a soft expression took over his face, one Maurice had never seen before.
"It would be nice if he could have some siblings later." Belle's dampened voice filtered through the spring of the door. "Perhaps a little sister?"
"Of course, Belle. We'll have as many as you like. Will a dozen do?"
She laughed and swatted his arm. "Be serious!" The lure of her son once again drew Belle nearer to him, laying her head against Rumpelstiltskin's shoulder. "I remember it being lonely to be an only child, often wishing for a playmate. Wasn't it the same for you?"
"A playmate will be good," he agreed quietly, the words nearly not making it across the room and through the door.
A brilliant smile broke forth and Belle hugged Rumpelstiltskin's arm to her. "Great! It's settled then!"
He nodded. "Just tell me how many. A dozen or more?"
An unladylike snort escaped her, followed by a cackle. It'd been many years, Belle had still been a child, since Maurice had last heard that sound from his daughter. The teachers training her to be a lady had slaved away to make sure that particular mannerism was the first to be checked. It had never struck him until now that he had missed the sound of her unbounded joy. What had the beast done to bring it back?
Her loud laugh startled the young child from his rest in his father's arms and cries filled the room.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," were his mother's fervent pleas as she tried to soothe the baby.
A true smile on Rumpelstiltskin's face, the first he'd seen in all their many years, shocked Maurice to the core. As though he felt himself being watched, or if simply by accident, the two men's eyes locked on each other. A breath passed and then Rumpelstiltskin was focused on his son, dismissing the other man, able to soothe the baby and calm his cries.
It was a day of wonders, indeed.
Stepping away from the door and letting it close fully behind him, before walking out of the hospital into the warm spring evening, Maurice thought that, perhaps, if it was Gideon's eyes, he could learn to love its colour despite its origin.
oOoOo
In the following months a new friendship blossomed and grew in tandem with the flowers in the forest between Belle and the other princesses in Storybrooke. There was an increase of births and first-time parents as couples who had been separated were now finally able to form their families, in this strange land where there was no magic and happy endings were rumoured to not exist.
Book clubs and playdates were a weekly occurrence, where the children made new friends and the mothers could socialize and gush about their offspring.
With Snow White, Belle found a true friend. The women were alike in temperament and morals, their youngest children were roughly the same age and, solidifying their regard for each other, they were already bound through the strongest bond of them all: their love for their family, in which Henry was the commonality.
On this particular day, the two women, with their respective families, could be found in Snow White and Prince Charming's apartment, sitting on a sofa together with their babies on their laps.
Standing apart from the rest of the group centred around the kitchen island – Henry trying to sneak food past his mother the Saviour, while her boyfriend, a handless pirate, distracted her so the teenager could fill the black hole that was his stomach, with the Prince enjoying the scene – was Rumpelstiltskin.
He did not begrudge Belle the many friendships she'd made, nor would he see her unhappy without them, but the truth of the matter was that however much he loved his wife, son and grandchild, he did not have much to spare for the rest of the Charmings. Gatherings such as these made him uncomfortable, and while he was happy to wait until Belle had finished so they could walk home – he'd only come to pick her up, after all – he had no desire to mingle with the rest of them. As long as they did not disturb him, he would not disturb them.
Ever the gracious host, and heart too compassionate to be an efficient ruler, Charming sidled up to him, apparently uncomfortable to see anyone alone.
"Gold," he greeted him.
"Mr Nolan."
"I… uh…" the man stuttered awkwardly before squaring his shoulders and plunging ahead. "Isn't it time that we were on a first name basis by now? We're Henry's grandfathers – we're family."
Raising an eyebrow, Rumpelstiltskin levelled him with a sidelong glance.
Charming sighed. "Look, Gold, our wives love each other." He gestured to the two women smiling brightly, similar in appearance with their dark hair, blue eyes and fair skin. But though Snow White was said to be the fairest of them all, Rumpelstiltskin could only see one beauty. "Isn't it time we bury whatever history is in our past and move forward?"
The proposition surprised Rumpelstiltskin, though he figured he probably shouldn't have been given that it was Prince Charming who said it.
Feeling his gaze on her, Belle looked up questioningly. A silent conversation passed between husband and wife, with him questioning the validity – and desirability – of the olive branch being extended. By the end of it her eyes sparkled like jewels.
The Prince was slack jawed, having seen the exchange but deaf to its silent words, when Rumpelstiltskin turned to him. Out of all of them, he was the one who had treated him most as a fellow man in all their years, helped him whenever Belle had gotten into trouble.
"I suppose that we are… acquaintances, at the very least, David," Rumpelstiltskin conceded, testing the familiar name in his mouth.
Charming smiled. "We're family, actually, but we'll get there, Rumpelstiltskin."
Nodding, Rumpelstiltskin once again turned to look at his wife and child.
"On that note," Charming continued fearlessly, "I thought I'd invite you both to Thanksgiving dinner."
"Aren't you a few months early?" Rumpelstiltskin asked.
Not taking offence at the tone, Charming simply shrugged. "Can never be too early to send out invites. You might claim that you're busy, otherwise. So, what do you say?"
A whimper from Gideon, a certain flinging of his arms, grabbed Rumpelstiltskin's attention. "I'll get back to you," he said before crossing the room to his child. "He's hungry," he announced to Belle who attempted to control the limbs so he wouldn't accidentally hit himself.
"We should get going," Belle said, looking for her bag.
"We can warm some milk for you, if you'd like. It's no problem, really," Snow White said, looking from one to the other.
Belle looked to her husband, and he could easily read in her eyes how much she wanted to stay. "All right, thank you," he acquiesced and handed Snow White a bottle from the bag.
Snow White scurried off and returned only a moment later, giving back the now warm bottle to Rumpelstiltskin who now held Gideon in his arms. Leaving the couple in peace to feed their child, she joined her family in the kitchen.
Feeling a calm settle over him now that he had his son in his arms and his wife by his side, Rumpelstiltskin felt he could finally relax.
Belle laid a hand on his knee and leaned in to whisper, "Thank you, for giving them a chance."
"No matter." He could feel her smile.
"But it does matter!" It was silent for a time before she spoke again, both parents lost in the wonder of their child. "Snow White promised me that I could borrow a book from her – it's one of her favourites – and then we can go."
"You go take care of your books, Belle, and I'll feed Gideon. Take your time."
She gave a quick squeeze to his knee before rising from the sofa to follow her friend, where she now stood rummaging in a pile of papers, books and magazines. Such treatment of precious literary works would never be allowed over their doorstep.
Focusing on his child, Rumpelstiltskin saw with contentment how Gideon hungrily grasped the bottle, sucking in the liquid food, feet sporadically kicking. "There, wee babe, there's enough food for you. There's no need to rush," he murmured.
In the background he could hear the Charmings talking and setting the table, the pots boiling with their dinner. It was a homely sound. It was, he must confess, a pleasant sound. It was one he now shared with his own family, but in a smaller scale, after centuries of cold meals taken alone and silence ringing down the stone corridors of his castle. Perhaps, he mused, as Gideon finished the last drop and he began to pat his back, perhaps it wouldn't do any harm to extend his circle of family to include these people, as Charming had suggested.
A pair of black leather boots came into his view and all pleasant feelings left him at the appearance of the pirate.
He'd studiously ignored him since stepping through the portal bringing him back to Storybrooke, he'd held his tongue whenever in the same company and he'd imagined that the pirate had been equally willing to limiting their acknowledgement of the other's existence.
"I've been watching you, croc-" he said but cut himself off before the old nickname escaped him.
"Walk away, pirate," Rumpelstiltskin said tersely.
"You're a family man. I never saw it… before, but it's clear to me now."
Eyes flashing, Rumpelstiltskin nailed Hook to the spot with his glare. His heart was in his stomach and cold sweat ran down his spine. "What are you getting at? What do you want with my family?" Hand searching for the hilt of his cane, ready to swing at the man before him if he took a step closer.
"Nothing! I'm not saying anything of the sort." Hook held up his hand and hook in a gesture meant to show he meant no harm, but Rumpelstiltskin didn't trust it as far as he could throw the man. "What I'm trying to say is that… I can see how much you care for your family, and now that I'm hoping to start my own – " here, he glanced at the blond Saviour, Emma Swan, a woman who was the product of True Love " – I know how much they matter."
"And?"
Hook scuffed his boot against the floorboards. "I'm trying to say that I was wrong. Before. Both here and back home."
Relaxing his grip on his cane, Rumpelstiltskin continued to pat Gideon's back. "Yes, you were," he agreed, dismissing the pirate.
An unfamiliar prompting, one he fought against but knew, after his time with Belle, that he should follow, Rumpelstiltskin spoke again, most unwillingly. He did not want a truce – or worse yet, an understanding – with the pirate. If he could have his will Hook would fall off the edge of the world, or down a very deep pit he couldn't climb out of. But he was a changed man, still continued to fight for that change, and so he spoke.
"I was wrong, too. Back then."
Hook gulped, seemingly finding it difficult to breathe, but Rumpelstiltskin had nothing more to say. Could not apologize to the man who had stolen both his wife and his pride – not when the person who the words needed to be said to was dead.
Giving a silent nod, Hook left him in peace.
Walking down the road back to their home - their son in the stroller, the borrowed book safely tucked away in a bag - the sound of birds and the feel of the soft wind helped Rumpelstiltskin forget what had transpired. Ever since they'd left, Belle had been shooting anxious glances to him. She'd clearly seen the interaction between him and the pirate but hadn't heard what had been said.
"Is there anything you want to talk about?" she finally asked when she could bear it no longer.
"Not really, no."
She chewed on her lip. "Can you tell me what he said to you?"
Rumpelstiltskin sighed and looked heavenwards. The sky was a pale blue, clouds thin whisps here and there. "He admitted to his wrongdoing."
"He's changed," Belle said in a soft tone.
He shrugged, not willing to agree but unable to disagree outright.
"And you've changed," she pressed on, hand now on his arm, voice still soft but carrying an undeniable layer of happiness. Perhaps even pride. "You've let go of your hate."
Looking at his wife, meeting her crystal blue eyes, receiving the flood of emotions emanating from her – it left him feeling both shaken and strengthened at the same time. How could she see him as someone so worthy of love, of praise? How could he be anything but worthy of it, if she was the one who gave it willingly?
Theirs was a love strong enough, true enough, to break the darkest of curses known to all the realms.
Because she was willing to stand by him. Because he was willing to choose her. Because it was True Love. And so, they shared a True Love's Kiss, their son – though not prophesied to be a Saviour, but a product of True Love nonetheless - gurgling happily in the stroller, its magic warming their insides.
This may be a world in which its inhabitants did not know or believe in magic, who read their life stories and called them fairy tales, but it was true nonetheless that the Beauty and her Beast had found their Happy Ending.
And it was just beginning.
Fin.
oOoOo
Author's Notes: Were the characters too OOC? Were the conflicts between the different people too easily resolved? Perhaps. But I find that I'm fonder of happy resolutions than describing agony and misery.
I didn't realize until I wrote this how much I actually long for the family relations between Belle-Maurice-Rumple and Henry-Rumple to be okay. We didn't get enough of it in the show, and family dynamics can be enough drama on its own to fill an episode without introducing a villain. Some journeys take longer than others, and some relationships will never be without its thorns, but it is a great gift for them to be able to have their family in their lives.
Did anyone miss the Black Fairy? I didn't, and therefore she isn't here to create trouble. If you like, she could've been dealt with in the months when Rumpelstiltskin and Belle were away.
Having the bare essential knowledge of babies in general, I honestly have no idea how big they are after a few months and whether they still eat liquids or not. As the detail is inconsequential to the story that is the premise I'm going with.
I know that the wording of Rumpelstiltskin's name in OUAT is with the L before the E, but I'm loath to add it to my writing program since I know that sometime in the far off future I won't know the correct way to write it.