VII

Thorrin tried his best not to laugh at the spinner's frustration, but Baelfire had no such tact. Rumpelstiltskin cast his son a desperate look before turning back to the mirror, the third cravat he'd tried to tie about his neck, wrinkled beyond repair. He tossed it onto the bed with the others and groaned.

As he reached for another, Thorrin came to stand behind him, his fingers kneading at the knots in Rumpelstiltskin's shoulders. "Relax, Rum. I know you're nervous to be seen by the entire court, but it's not going to be as bad as all that. Here, let me show you again." He took the pristine white silk from his friend's hands and carefully knotted it about the spinner's neck. "See, nothing to it. Next time you should be able to do it without any problems, I think."

"Easy for you to say," Rumpelstiltskin grumbled. "Belle's going to be so displeased with me. I should have been ready sooner and now she's going to be late and it's all my fault."

The squire flopped down next to Bae on the sofa where the boy was playing with his wooden soldiers and stretched out his long legs. "Belle isn't worried about being late. We haven't heard a peep from her room, so it's safe to say she's not ready yet."

Rumpelstiltskin glared darkly at his reflection in the full-length mirror. He'd never worn such fine garments before, even though they weren't nearly as luxurious as those the nobles wore. The shirt he had donned was made of white silk, the material so soft against his weathered skin. A gold brocade waistcoat with shiny buttons covered it. His pants were a buttery soft white leather with gold buttons at the knee where his calves were encased in white hose. The black patent leather shoes with their gold buckles pinched a bit at his toes, but considering they hadn't been made specifically for him, he really couldn't complain over the slight discomfort.

Thorrin had assured him the new ones which had been ordered would be more to his liking. Now that his cravat was properly tied, the only thing which remained was the heavy frock coat of navy blue damask silk he was required to wear as part of his livery. He hurriedly donned it and tried to find himself in the man who stared back at him from the mirror.

"Wow, Papa!" Baelfire breathed, his eyes full of wonder. "You look so handsome."

"You clean up well, spinner. The princess will be pleased," Thorrin added.

Rumpelstiltskin cast them both a doubtful look, wondering briefly over the state of their eyesight. "Bae, come here son and let me have a look at you." The boy didn't hesitate, laying his toys aside and rushing over to his father. Thorrin had chosen Bae's clothing for the evening, a fine white lawn shirt with laces at his throat, buff colored breeches, white hose and tiny black shoes and a black waistcoat over his little chest. There was nothing to help his unruly curls, but Rumpelstiltskin ran a comb through them one more time just to be sure. He could feel the sting of tears behind his eyes as he looked down at his son. "You do me proud, my boy."

A knock at the door adjoining his suite with Belle's startled him out of his fugue. "Are you dressed?" she called. "May I come in?"

Thorrin opened the door for her with a courtly bow. "Highness, you look lovely this evening."

Belle smiled warmly at the young squire. "Oh, you're such a charmer, Thor. And Bae, don't you look dashing. Will you be my dinner companion this evening?" she asked, dipping into a curtsey for the child and making him giggle.

"Yes, princess," he said shyly, hugging her about her waist.

"Very good. Thorrin, if you will," she nodded towards the door. "Rumpel and I will be along shortly."

Rumpelstiltskin let his gaze wander appreciatively over her curves before lowering his eyes respectfully. "Thorrin was right," he murmured shyly. "You are incredibly beautiful, m'lady Belle."

Belle smoothed her hand over the skirt of her Robin's egg blue gown and smiled. "Thank you, Rum," she whispered, pleased with his compliment. It was one she'd worn before – her favorite actually – with its wide bell skirt flowing out over her many petticoats. It cinched her waist tightly, drawing attention to her trim figure, and the snug fitted bodice with its sweetheart neckline pushed her small breasts up. The sleeves covered her slender arms from shoulder to elbow where they flared out into bell sleeves trimmed in ivory lace. She held out the velvet box she had clasped in one hand. "Would you … ah … mind helping me with this? I sent Gerta to the Great Hall with a message that I'd been delayed before I could get her to fasten this for me."

He opened the box to gaze inside, his brows raising at the lovely stand of diamonds and pearls inside. The milky pearls were nearly the same shade as her gown … a king's ransom in jewels. His fingers shook slightly as she held her long tresses away from her neck so he could fasten the strand about her neck, careful to keep from brushing his hands against her skin. Still, he wasn't able to fight the blush which rose in his face and tinted his cheeks pink. "There you are, Belle."

"They belonged to my mother," she said softly, turning to face him. She held his gaze for a long moment, words between them left unspoken in a shared minute of compassion. Finally, Belle seemed to come back to herself with a start. "Oh, I have something for you, Rumpel. I'll be right back."

He fidgeted nervously while he waited for her to return, taking one last look in the mirror and smoothing a hand over his hair. What if she didn't like the way he looked in his livery? She hadn't said anything, and the suspense was enough to cause his heart to stutter to a quick halt. Thankfully, she returned before he had too much time to worry himself into a frazzle.

Belle moved wordlessly to his side, biting her lip as she met his gaze. In her hands was a polished ebony cane with a gold handle which she offered to him. "I know it's not your staff which you're used to, but … I thought this might give you more freedom of motion during your duties …" Her face fell as she stared up into the unreadable mask which had slipped over his features. "You don't like it. I'm sorry. When I saw it at the cobbler's shop while you were being fitted for your boots … well I saw it and thought it …"

"Belle, stop, dearie. I-I mean, m'lady," he amended, biting down hard on his tongue as he let the endearment slip past his wayward lips. "It's wonderful. I don't deserve such a gift."

"Of course, you do, Rum. Do you really like it? The handle is curved enough to hook over your arm when you need both of your hands free," she said, relaxing once more now that he'd admitted to liking her gift. "Well, what are you waiting for? Try it out."

Rumpelstiltskin set the tip of the cane against the rug and balanced his weight as he took a step, appreciating the slim ebony wood as it supported him easily. He made a circuit of the room before returning to her side, a smile blooming on his lips. "It's not as cumbersome as my staff, Belle. Truly … thank you. I haven't … well, I'm not used to receiving gifts, so forgive me if I seemed ungrateful a moment ago. You've already done so much for me and Bae, I don't know how I'll ever repay you."

"Good, because there's no need for that. I enjoy giving you things you need," she whispered with false bravado as she reached up to tenderly cup his cheek. What she really wanted to do was scream her frustration at the world for what he'd suffered for so long at the hands of his ex-wife. His cheek warmed beneath her hand as he blushed, and it was all she could do to stop herself from raising up on her toes to kiss his lips. "You look so handsome this evening. I will be proud to have you at my side."

His fingers tightened over the handle of his new cane, the knuckles whitening with the effort to force himself not to reach for her. He had to stop this now before he did something they would both regret. She was his mistress and there were lines he couldn't … wouldn't … cross. He cleared his throat and took a step back, breaking their contact to offer her his arm. "Shall we go, mistress?"

Belle pursed her lips in displeasure as she took his arm and allowed him to lead her out of his room. "How many times am I going to have to ask you to call me Belle?" she huffed in exasperation.

"At least once more," he returned, fighting the smile which threatened to return to his mouth. She grinned as she sighed in resignation, leading him down corridors unfamiliar to him to join the feast in the Great Hall.

*.*.*

"Well, it's about bloody time you arrived," Lucern grumbled, rising from his seat at the king's right to greet his sister with a warm embrace. "I'm starving."

Belle kissed his cheek. "Which means you've gone through only one tray of fruit while awaiting me, hm?" she murmured dryly, moving on to greet her father.

"You look stunning, my girl," he complimented as he handed her into the chair on his left.

She turned to her right and squeezed Baelfire's hand reassuringly, taking note of his wide eyes and tightly compressed lips. "Are you alright, my darling? Don't be afraid."

He leaned into her, resting his cheek against her arm. "There's so many people and they're all looking at me."

Belle's gaze swept the room, her eyes narrowing minutely at the courtiers and nobles milling about, taking their own seats for the evening meal. They were indeed staring curiously at the small boy seated at the royal table. She glanced down at her ward, her protective instincts flaring to life. She forced a bright smile. "No, baby, they're looking at me and wondering how I got so lucky to have such a charming dinner companion."

"Really?" he asked, still unsure.

She beckoned to her servant, who stood not a foot behind her chair. "Your papa is here, as am I and Thorrin. Do you really think we'd allow anyone to harm you?"

He looked up at his father, who gave a nod of approval, and the boy seemed to relax a bit. Confident the crisis had been averted, she turned to Rumpelstiltskin and smiled. "Wine please, Rumpel. And don't be nervous. If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask, alright?"

"Yes, m'lady," he replied, moving off to fetch one of the golden pitchers to fill her cup.

"That cannot be the same man you dragged home, Belle," her father commented, drawing her attention.

She arched a brow in his direction, a teasing glint in her eye. "I assure you it is, Papa."

"I hardly recognized him."

"My Rumpel just needed a bit of polishing to see the diamond he is beneath," she said fondly as her servant filled her goblet with sparkling white wine. She ignored her brother who sputtered into his own cup and cut his eyes at her, a dark frown marring his brow.

Her sister-in-law patted him on the back and grinned at Belle. "He's very handsome, Belle. I think he's going to fit in nicely here in Avonlea. Gaston mentioned Rumpelstiltskin is a spinner by trade."

Belle nodded as footmen flooded the hall carrying in the meal. "Yes, he is. I haven't seen any samples of his work yet, however. I'm hoping he will have time to spin once things settle down." She glanced at her father. "Papa, I would like to beg a favor."

"Oh?" he murmured distractedly as a footman ladled thin slices of roasted duck on his plate.

"Yes. I'd like for you to order …" she leaned over to whisper to her father so her servant wouldn't overhear.

The king looked startled. "Whyever would you want that?"

"I have my reasons," she returned mysteriously. "Will you order them for me?"

He glared at the footman until he ladled an extra spoonful of rich brown gravy over his potatoes. "I suppose, sweetheart."

"Thank you, Papa." Once again, she called Rumpelstiltskin forward. "Go on to the kitchen and grab a bite to eat, Rum."

"Now?" he asked in surprise.

"Yes, dear, I don't want you collapsing with that empty belly of yours," she smiled up at him to let him know she was teasing. "And have some pie."

Baelfire joined in her giggling. "Lots of pie is good."

"Yes, well, you eat your dinner before you even think about pie, son," he said firmly. "I'll be back soon, highness." He bowed to her and ambled off as fast as he could through the crowded room towards the kitchens.

The kitchen was a whirlwind of activity with the feast in full swing. Which was why he was rather startled when Mrs. Potts grabbed him by the arm and propelled him towards the end of her work counter, plopping a plate of food before him with a stern command to 'tuck in'. He didn't argue with the woman, wolfing down his food so he could return to the hall. He passed on the blackberry pie she set before him, draining his tankard of mead as he rose to his feet.

His ankle twinged at the sudden shift in weight, but he ignored it. He needed to return to his mistress, his angel from heaven disguised as a princess. He shook his head, mentally scolding himself for his wayward thoughts. He was traversing a dangerous path with his mistress, and if he weren't careful, he'd lose his heart to her. She held his life, his son's life in her delicate little hands, he couldn't allow her to have his heart. He couldn't allow himself to become vulnerable to that pain again. He'd given himself body and soul to his wife and she'd done everything in her power to make sure he knew how unworthy of that emotion he truly was.

The minstrels were playing, and the jesters were doing their best to entertain the court when he returned to the hall and took up his place behind Belle's chair once more. She was having a lively discussion with Lyssa, but paused when she noticed his presence, reaching out her hand to grasp his and pull him forward. It was almost as if she'd been watching for him. He leaned down so he could hear her over the din of music and laughter.

"Did you have enough to eat and drink, dear?" she asked, her eyes warm with pleasure as she met his gaze.

"Yes, highness, thank you," he answered, his heart fluttering as she traced little circles over the back of his hand.

"Lovely," she murmured. "Thorrin is to be knighted in a little ceremony once the meal is over. Do you think we should send Bae to bed before or after?" she asked, seeking his advice.

He glanced over at his son who was watching the performers with avid interest. "I doubt we'd be able to tear him away, to be honest. And he wouldn't be happy to miss seeing his new friend officially become a knight of the realm."

"I thought so, but I wanted your counsel."

Rumpelstiltskin immediately regretted the loss of contact as she let go of his hand and turned back to her previous conversation with Lucern's wife. He could feel the prince's eyes boring a hole into his head as he stepped back and meekly lowered his gaze. His discomfort grew until with the blast of a trumpet, dinner was called to an end and the courtiers who'd been invited to the forthcoming ceremony began to file out of the hall.

Belle tucked Baelfire's hand securely in her own as she took hold of Thorrin's arm and allowed him to escort her. She kept her steps measured, earning a querulous glance from the soon to be knight, but she wanted to make sure Rumpelstiltskin had no difficulties keeping to her pace. Gaston was waiting for her at the ornate double doors leading into the throne room.

"Thor, I'm so proud of you," she said, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

"Thank you, highness," he replied, blushing at her praise as he handed her off to Gaston. "It is an honor to serve you and the royal family."

"G'luck, Thorrin," Bae chirped happily.

Gaston lifted the boy in his arms, bouncing him lightly on his hip. "And how did you enjoy the feast, m'lad? Is your tummy full?"

"Yes, sir," he answered, laying his head on the knight's shoulder.

Belle giggled. "Looks like you've made a new friend," she said as they walked towards the dais where she would be seated for the ceremony next to her father and brother's opulent thrones.

"He's a good boy," Gaston smiled down at her. "Almost like a nephew, one would say."

Belle sighed and cut her eyes up at her friend. "Gaz," she warned, smiling back at Rumpelstiltskin who trailed behind them. "Now is not a good time for this conversation."

He grinned unrepentantly as he mounted the steps and released her so she could take her seat. A small footstool had been set next to her own throne for Baelfire. Despite the noise in the room, she could hear whispers and feel the weight of the court's stares when they noticed the boy. She let her fingers trail idly through his hair, giving the impression of outward calm when in reality she was seething inside. What she wouldn't give to retreat to the summer palace down the coast.

Rumpelstiltskin kept his gaze on the princess and his son as he took up his appointed position at the bottom of the steps, letting her soothing presence wash over him and still the restless energy humming beneath his skin. If he concentrated hard enough, he might be able to block out the rest of the people who seemed to press in on him from all sides. Yet he wasn't able to un-hear some of the things being said about his mistress, and it called up a loathing so strong it caused his teeth to clench and his cheeks to redden.

"Do you think it's her child and she's only now chosen to claim him?"

"Don't be absurd, Kristina. She's simply doing a good deed by taking the boy in," the noblewoman scoffed, raising a monocle to her eye to peer closer at the boy.

"Pfft!" Lady Kristina scoffed. "Surely, you've noticed how familiar she seems with her newest servant. It's not so far-fetched to assume –"

"Kristina dear, you know what happens when one assumes."

The noblewoman glared hotly at her friend. "Oh please! Why else would she want a lame servant? She's obviously sleeping with him. He doesn't exactly need two good legs in bed."

Lady Smythe looked down her nose at the younger woman and sniffed imperiously. "I'd watch my tongue if I were you, m'dear. It isn't wise to cast aspersions on our dear princess." She left the woman standing there and moved off to stand beside her husband.

Rumpelstiltskin closed his eyes briefly and tried to concentrate on the booming voice of the king as he called Thorrin forward and had him kneel on the carpeted runner, but his thoughts continued to drift back to the whispers he couldn't help but have overheard. Did they really think the princess had taken him to her bed? He snorted. As if someone as sweet and pure as Belle would ever look twice at him in such a manner. So lost in his dark thoughts, it came as a shock when the court erupted in applause for their newest knight. But then Belle and Bae were descending the dais and her wide eyes met his in askance.

"I think I'd like to retire now, Rumpel," she said, her brow furrowing when he gave her a stiff nod. She'd already wished her family a good evening and bid Thorrin and Gaston farewell, leaving her free to leave the festivities. She simply wanted the sanctuary of her room and time with Baelfire before she sought her own slumber. And she wanted mostly to know what had upset her servant and sent him into a brooding silence.

The trek to the east wing was fraught with tension, and she breathed a sigh of relief as they arrived at their rooms. She didn't hesitate to follow Bae into the room he shared with his father. "Alright, darling, have a quick wash and get into your nightclothes."

"Are you gonna tell me a story tonight?" he asked as he disappeared behind the screen.

"Yes, Bae," she replied with a fond smile as he zipped across the room and jumped onto his bed. She picked up the large book of fairy tales from the coffee table and followed after him, sitting on the edge of his bed and thumbing through the tome to find a story for him.

Rumpelstiltskin shrugged out of his frock coat and laid it over the back of a chair as he tugged furiously at the cravat about his neck, feeling as if the blasted thing would choke him to death. He dragged in a deep breath as he sat down at his wheel, taking advantage of the princess's time with his son to spin for a bit. He listened to her story with only half an ear, trying to focus on something aside from his anger. But not even her lilting voice or the smooth motion of the wheel could calm him that evening.

"Rumpel?" Belle touched his shoulder lightly, the book clasped tightly to her chest. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, Belle," he lied, refusing to meet her eyes.

She hummed doubtfully and moved to set her book aside. "Bae's asleep. Would it be too much to ask you to fetch us some tea?"

He rose stiffly and balanced heavily on his cane. "Of course not."

It was with worry creasing her brow that she watched him leave the room. Something had happened to upset him, and she was determined to find out what it was. She disappeared into her own room to change and found her maid asleep on the sofa. "Gerta, dear, I'm … Gerta! Are you alright?" she asked, hurrying to the woman's side.

"Oh, highness, forgive me," the maid apologized. "I didn't mean to doze off, but I'm afraid I might be coming down with a cold."

Belle pressed the back of her hand to Gerta's brow and winced. "I'd say it's already here, dear. Go, run along and ask Mrs. Littleton to fetch the healer to give you a potion to see to your symptoms. I believe I can manage this evening."

"You're sure? I don't want to leave you unaided," she protested.

"Yes, I insist. Good night, dear. I hope you feel better."

It took several moments for Belle to realize what she'd done by sending her maid away. "Damn!" she hissed, remembering the long row of buttons at the back of her dress which she had no hope of unfastening by herself. She chewed anxiously on her thumbnail. It would be so wrong of her to ask Rumpelstiltskin to help her disrobe, but what other choice did she have?

He returned shortly with their tea and paused in the adjoining doorway of their rooms, hesitantly peeking in. "Belle?"

"Come in, dear," she called, gesturing to the table set before the hearth to relieve his burden. "Sit and have a cup with me?"

She stopped him before he could lower himself to sit at her feet, urging him onto the sofa. He grudgingly did as she wished and took the cup from her. "Thank you."

"Are you ready to tell me what has upset you?" she asked softly, peering at him from beneath her long lashes.

He very nearly burned his tongue on the steaming brew as he met her gaze over the rim of his cup. "I'm not –"

"Don't lie to me, Rumpelstiltskin," she cut him off. "I can practically see the anger rolling off you in waves. Something happened at Thorrin's ceremony to upset you and I want to know what it was."

Her servant's lips clamped firmly shut as he set his cup down on the tray and folded his hands in his lap. "I assure you it was nothing." He rose to his feet and went to her dresser, removing her nightgown and dressing robe and laying it over the screen.

Belle sighed and set her empty cup on the tray, rising from her seat to follow him. "I had to send Gerta to her bed; she's fallen ill. Would you please help with my stays so I can change?" she asked in a gentle tone, giving him her back.

The spinner licked his suddenly dry lips and swallowed around the lump in his throat, but he knew he couldn't deny her simple request. Simple? His heart had taken wing in his chest at the thought of laying hands on her, and his fingers trembled as he touched the first button.

"Rumpel, you know you can tell me anything, right? I would never betray your confidence," she whispered, a shiver tripping up her spine as she felt his callused fingers brush against her skin. "Won't you please tell me what's troubling you?"

He sighed in defeat, his warm breath ghosting ever so lightly over her nape. "I … There were ladies whispering about you, and I didn't much care for it."

She forced her voice to remain steady as she dragged in a calming breath. It didn't help. Her skin tingled where it met his and butterflies the size of condors had taken flight in her belly, desire coursing through her like wildfire. "What did they say?"

He gnashed his teeth together. He'd rather cut out his own tongue than tell her of what he'd overheard, but he knew she wouldn't let it rest until he'd confessed. "They were speculating on whether or not Bae is your bastard and if you'd taken me to your bed yet."

Belle gasped at his bluntness, but it quickly turned into a chuckle, causing him to pause at his task to gape at her. "Wow," she murmured dryly. "They don't waste any time, do they?"

"They seemed to think you were a bit more familiar with me than necessary," he replied caustically as the last button slipped free and she turned to face him, a hand held to her loose bodice to hold it in place.

She was so close, her petal soft lips so inviting, her eyes filled with an emotion he didn't want to contemplate. She lifted her free hand and cradled his cheek in her warm palm, drawing his gaze to hers. He was helpless, frozen beneath her touch, aching with desire to hold her. What had happened to his firm resolve to keep his distance? None of that mattered when she touched him. "Do I make you uncomfortable, Rumpelstiltskin? Should I not show you the affection I feel in my heart?"

He leaned into her touch, unable to resist her allure. "No." His voice was no more than a ragged whisper. "I am yours to do with what you will … a willing slave to your whims."

She shook her head. "Never my slave, Rum. You may call yourself my servant and friend … never my slave." She brushed away the hair which had fallen over his eyes, reveling at the embers of passion burning in his sable eyes. "I've always been a very tactile person. I give of myself freely to my family and friends because I want them to never doubt how I feel about them. But if you wish it … I will refrain with you."

As she withdrew her hand and stepped back, he could feel the warmth leech from his skin, and he knew the true depths of despair. He reached out, his fingers curling about her wrist as he brought her hand back to his cheek. "No, please. I'm unworthy of your comfort, your friendship … yet I crave it, Belle." His voice cracked, heavy with unshed tears. "I've never had anyone care for me the way you do. I'm afraid for you to see me for who I truly am … afraid you'll send me away once you see what a coward I am."

"I would never send you away, Rumpel, and I doubt you will ever be able to convince me you're a coward." She carded her fingers through his hair and guided his head down to her shoulder, whispering soothing nonsense into his ear until he relaxed and accepted her gentle embrace. "Don't listen to that nest of vipers who make up my father's court. They can only hurt you if you let them. Trust me, darling. We're going to be great friends … I promise."

Her tears soaked into the silk of his shirt as he clung to her. He was so damaged, so hurt by others for far too long, and she just wanted him to be happy. He needed to let go of the past and embrace their future, to trust her not to hurt him. She hummed happily against his ear as his arms wound about her waist and pulled her just a bit closer. This was the beginning, a tentative step in a new direction. She was scared to death of the emotions rioting within her, but she wouldn't fail him. She knew she could love him if he'd only let her.

A/N: Well? Was it everything you hoped it would be? :D I loved writing this chapter, especially this last scene. Anyhoo! Next chapter we're going to advance the passage of time a bit six weeks or so. Belle has a gift for Rum and Lucern stumbles upon a secret. I want to thank you all for your lovely reviews and comments. They make me so unbelievably happy to read your thoughts on this story. Thank you all so very much for reading!

Hugs and love to last weeks reviewers: Wondermorena, LoveTVshows, April, Miss October 13, Rachel, scorpion22, CLKit, MyraValhallah, Melstrife, FaerieTales4ever, BloodyTink, Twyla Mercedes, Erik'sTrueAngel, Grace5231973, xXSedationXx, onlyinyourdreams77, and KatrinaCross. You guys rock :D