XXI
Two Weeks later …
Avonlea was abuzz in anticipation for their princess's impeding marriage to the Earl of Dunsmore. The castle was festooned with white roses – the garden had been emptied of the prized blooms – and white satin banners, the most delicious smells permeated the corridors as they wafted up from the kitchens, and there were more guests milling through the palace than the spinner had ever seen before in one place. Even the larger market towns he'd visited to sell his wares hadn't boasted such a crowd. Though his wedding day was less than twenty-four hours away, Rumpelstiltskin was miserable.
The last two weeks had been a whirlwind of activity, and the time he was able to spend with his beloved had been a cruel jest. With the last of the preparations in full swing, he was lucky if he saw her at dinner and bedtime. She still slept with him nightly, curling into his side and slipping quickly into slumber. Sometimes, she would fall asleep in the middle of a sentence. Considering before they had spent nearly every waking moment together, being apart from her only increased his natural anxiety. He longed to go back to Dunsmore castle, to the quiet languid days in the orchard or the garden, the village or the beach, and just be with her to laugh and to love as they were meant to be.
His Belle had been thrilled with his plans to open a shop in the village, seeing for herself how it would benefit the town as well as give him something to occupy his free time. Jefferson had already placed an order with a craftsman for five new spinning wheels and three looms. When they returned to Dunsmore, they would begin searching for men and women to fill the roles of apprentices to learn the craft from Rumpelstiltskin.
The estate manager had endeared himself to the spinner, a friendship blooming between them as they'd worked together. They'd found they had a lot in common, most of all that they'd both been single fathers. It didn't matter that Milah had been with Rumpelstiltskin until he'd met Belle, he'd been raising Baelfire by himself. Jefferson would be arriving with Grace in the morning, refusing to stay in the palace overnight. He'd felt the palace would be overcrowded with nobles from neighboring kingdoms come to celebrate the princess's nuptials.
Rumpelstiltskin found himself in the grand ballroom where their reception would be held, shaking his head at the extravagant decorations. Large round tables littered the edges of the room, each covered with a pristine white lace tablecloth, a centerpiece of white and pink roses and the finest crystal and china the palace boasted. The chandeliers had all been polished and refilled with beeswax candles, and the room sparkled with cleanliness. He stood in the middle of the parquet floor, a frown knitting his brow as he stared down at his ankle which still sported the brace Dr. Cassel had provided for him. Would he be able to dance with his bride tomorrow, he wondered.
Baelfire tugged on his papa's hand, smiling up at him. "It's pretty, isn't it, Papa?" he said wonderingly. His little face fell as he noticed Rumpelstiltskin's worried frown. "Why you look so sad?"
"I'm not sad, Bae. I just … well, I guess I'm just a bit overwhelmed." He ruffled his son's hair. "But you're not to worry over that. We've got rather a lot to do today, don't we?"
"Is Mama coming with us to the village?"
"No, son. She and your auntie Lyssa have other tasks to see to today. It's just you and me," he said, a fond smile for his boy lighting his face. "It won't be too boring … spending the day with your old papa?"
Bae giggled. "'Course not, Papa. I like spending time with you."
He led his son out of the ballroom and into the main hall where they could make their way to the bailey where Thorrin awaited them. "But you'd no doubt rather be riding." He hated to admit his boy was growing up and had so much more to consume his time since they'd come to Avonlea. Things had been so hectic lately, he felt as if he hardly ever saw Bae, but once they took up permanent residence at Dunsmore, things would return to normal.
"Where are we going first, Papa?" Baelfire asked as he bounded into the carriage which would carry them to the village.
"We have to visit the tailor for our final fittings for our wedding attire."
The boy groaned. "I hope he doesn't try to choke me with my cravat this time."
The spinner chuckled, knowing how much his son loathed trying on new clothes. "I'll make sure he doesn't, and then we might be able to have a custard which you enjoy so well."
That seemed to lift his spirits, and he settled against the seat next to his father as they set off for the village.
*.*.*
Belle woke the next morning, blinking at the early morning sunlight filtering into her room. A smile slowly curled onto her lips as she pushed herself up onto her elbows. Today was her wedding day! Finally! Her fingers smoothed over the cool sheets next to her where her spinner usually lay. Never again would she have to sleep without him.
Last night, they'd lingered over dinner, spirits high among her family and certain members of the court. Baelfire had sat between them, a ceaseless stream of chatter falling from his lips about how excited he was for the wedding. They'd then convened in the Great Hall before the hearth to enjoy a glass of wine before Belle and Rumpel would have to part for the evening. Her brother had insisted her betrothed and his son would spend the night in a room in the east wing – not far from Lucern's own – to avoid temptation. He wanted no ill luck to fall on his sister because she couldn't abide by tradition.
Rumpelstiltskin had balked, never having heard of the bride not being able to see the groom the night before the wedding, but had eventually conceded … although grudgingly. She wondered if he'd slept better than she had. She somehow doubted that, considering how clingy he was in his sleep. Not that she minded. She relished the time spent in his arms and the bliss she experienced being able to sleep so close to him.
Lyssa burst through the door, her lovely face alight with joy. Bethany followed behind her with Belle's morning tea tray. "Oh grand! You're already up," her sister-in-law chirped happily.
Belle dragged herself out of bed and pulled on her dressing robe, her gaze flickering to her wedding gown draped to the dressmaker's dummy next to the full-length mirror. "Have you seen my Rumpel this morning?"
"Actually, yes," the princess said as she settled onto the settee. "He was in the kitchens when we went to fetch your tea. Puir man," she tsked. "Didna look as if he'd slept a wink. Baelfire, however, was in good spirits. The little lamb can't wait to stand up with his father this afternoon with the rings."
Belle reached for a slice of warm crusty bread and a link of sausage, hoping a bit of breakfast would help to settle her nervous stomach. Her heart went out to her love. It wasn't fair. He needed her and she couldn't be with him.
Lyssa reached over and squeezed Belle's hand, sensing her inner turmoil. "Don't fret, darling. You'll be with him soon enough."
Belle chuckled. "It won't be soon enough for me."
She didn't have long to dwell on it, however, nor was she able to linger over her tea. Her bedchamber became a hive of activity as footmen began carrying buckets of water in to fill her tub. The maids would scrub her raw and begin preparations to help her dress. Hopefully, she would calm, and the time would pass swiftly.
*.*.*
Rumpelstiltskin closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to quiet his nervous tension as he leaned back against the cool marble of the bath. Bae splashed nearby, playing with his little wooden boats as Vasha washed his hair.
"You look like hell, spinner," the prince said as he slipped into the pool and beckoned Alicia to him. "You should be brimming with joy that the day has finally arrived."
Rum offered him a wan smile. "I am … truly."
"But?" Lucern asked, hearing the hesitancy in the earl's voice.
"I didn't sleep well, my stomach feels like I swallowed a swarm of bees, and I'm afraid I'm going to pass out the moment I step foot in the church," he groaned, all his fears spilling out.
Gaston hissed as he slid into the pool, the water much hotter than usual as per Rumpelstiltskin's request. "Yeah, and Lucern threw up three times before he made it to the alter the day of his wedding. He was terrified Lyssa was going to come to her senses and run away."
Lucern shrugged, sending Bae's boat gliding back in his direction. "I also had a guard posted at her door the night before."
"Did she not want tae marry you?" he asked, shock making his brogue thick. Anyone could see the passion which existed between the prince and his fiery wife.
Gaston sighed in contentment as Mara came to scrub his back. She frowned petulantly, her favorite knight having abandoned their liaison since he'd fallen so deeply in love with the little maid visiting from Dunsmore castle. But she cared for him enough not to begrudge him his happiness. What was it about this kingdom? It seemed as if no one gave a wit for nobles marrying commoners.
"We had a rather unconventional courtship," Lucern admitted. "I knew she loved me, but … the knowledge didn't give me a moment's peace until the cleric pronounced us man and wife and my ring was resting on her finger."
Baelfire climbed from the pool and stood still while Vasha wrapped him in a fluffy towel. "But, Papa, Mama wouldn't run away from you. She promised she'd never leave us."
Leave it to his son to see such matters in black and white. "That's right, Bae, and your mama never breaks her promises." He pulled himself out of the pool and reached for a towel, letting one of the girls lead him to one of the massage tables. Now if he could just rid himself of his nerves and relax. Four more hours and Belle would right and truly be his before the eyes of the gods.
*.*.*
"Oh, don't you look beautiful. Both of you," the king breathed as he paused in the doorway of Belle's bedchamber, Bethany having invited him in. "I've been so blessed to have two such lovely daughters … one of my blood and one of my heart."
Lyssa beckoned him forward, meeting him halfway to embrace him warmly. "Papa, you're such a charmer." She kissed his ruddy cheek and stepped back with a smile, glancing briefly at Belle. "I'll leave you two alone for a few minutes. Merrick says the carriages are waiting to take us to the church, so I will see you downstairs."
Her sister-in-law was barely out of the door before Belle was enveloped in her father's arms, uncaring if her dress became wrinkled or not.
"My precious daughter," he choked, his voice heavy with emotion. "How I will miss you."
"You act as though I'm moving to the other end of the world when I will be less than a half day's ride from you by carriage," she scoffed gently.
He cast her a watery smile. "I think perhaps every father feels this way when his daughter chooses to marry, but Rumpelstiltskin is a good man and I'm glad he makes you so happy. I want … I want you to be happy like I was with your mother."
"Oh, Papa," she breathed, her eyes filling with tears. "I am."
He lowered his gaze to hide the unshed tears in his own eyes and shifted uncomfortably, his hands playing over the velvet box in his hands. "I … uh … I thought you might like to wear this today. It was Colette's. She wore it the day she and I married."
Belle took the case from her father's hands and carefully lifted the lid to reveal a golden comb inlaid with aquamarines almost the same color as her eyes. She wondered if she would be able to remove the one already in her hair and replace it with her father's gift without damaging the elegant coiffure Bethany had arranged. With careful fingers, he nestled it among her upswept curls, removing the other in the process.
"Colette would be so proud of you, daughter."
Belle gave herself a last once over in the mirror, studying her reflection with a critical eye. Her dark chestnut tresses were piled at her crown, several left to frame her lovely face. She'd forgone her tiara. She would be Rumpelstiltskin's countess before the end of the day, the thought sending a thrill down her spine. A single strand of pearls adorned her neck – a gift from her papa on her sixteenth birthday – her alabaster shoulders bare. The scalloped neckline of her bodice clung to her upper arms, stretching over her bosom in a vision of white satin and glittering golden lace. It fitted tightly to her waist where it flared out in a cloud of chiffon, her short heeled satin slippers peeking from beneath.
"I hope Rumpel likes my dress," she said softly, biting her lower lip in uncertainty.
Maurice offered his arm, their time at an end. He needed to see her to the church. "I promise, my girl … he won't even notice once he sees your lovely smile as you walk down that aisle."
*.*.*
Rumpelstiltskin groaned and let the curtain fall as he pressed his back against the wall, sucking in a deep breath to ward off the nervous fluttering in his belly. The church was brimming with guests, some having to stand at the back when the pews had become filled. It was nowhere near the amount which would flock to the palace for the reception, and it wasn't as if he hadn't been to gatherings with just as many in attendance since he'd come to Avonlea, but this was a bit different. In just a few moments, he'd be standing in front of the church with all eyes upon him, staring at him, judging him …
Something was pressed into his hands and he looked down to find a small flask. He came back to himself, his gaze flickering to his friend who wore a sympathetic smile for his plight. "What –"
"Have a nip, Rum. It'll help calm the nerves," Jefferson said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his fine leather trousers. He'd been a bit surprised when the earl had asked him to stand up with him, their friendship still so new. Rumpelstiltskin hadn't felt close enough to the prince quite yet to ask him, and the knights would all be on duty with so many guests in attendance. He'd felt a kinship with Jefferson, or so he'd said.
"I shouldn't," Rumpelstiltskin muttered with a wry grin as he tilted the flask to his lips and took a long draw, the whiskey burning his throat. It took a moment for the amber liquid to course its way through his body, but he felt some of the fiery tension leave his stiff muscles. "Thanks for that, Jeff."
"Don't worry, my friend. Once you see Belle start down the aisle towards you, you won't be thinking of anything but her." Jefferson smiled reassuringly as he took up a position at the threshold to the little room. They hadn't much longer to wait, and soon he was leading the earl to his position before the altar, music swelling from the organ to cue the guests to quiet.
Jefferson stood at Rumpelstiltskin's side, lending his support and friendship, smiling brightly as the doors at the rear of the church opened and his daughter – dressed in a pale blue gown, a golden sash tied about her waist – stepped out onto the aisle, carrying a basket of white rose petals. She smiled at all the guests as she sprinkled the fragrant petals onto the carpeted runner and made her way to the front of the church. She was followed by Baelfire, carrying a small white pillow, the rings tied to it with golden ribbons.
Lucern – sitting on the front row with Gaston and Thorrin – turned to watch his own wife stride slowly down the aisle, his eyes soft and warm as he took her in. She was dressed much like Grace in pale blue and gold, though her bodice was filled with her voluptuous curves.
Rumpelstiltskin smiled down at his son as the boy came to stand beside him, both craning their necks a bit to see Belle as she took her father's arm and stepped onto the aisle. He was mesmerized by her beauty, touched to his very core by this petite woman who was such a driving force in his life. He felt himself warm as her eyes met his, and he was lost, the cold numbness of his separation from her over the past weeks leaving him. She was a vision, his angel, his Belle, and tears burned at his eyes as she climbed the few short steps to the altar with her father and he placed her hand in his. Tears brightened her eyes as she clasped his hand tightly, his name a silent plea on her lips.
The cleric – Father Bartholomew – help up his hands for silence, and the music ended in a cacophony of tinkling notes. "Who gives this woman to this man to be joined in holy matrimony?" he asked.
"I do," Maurice boomed, making sure each and every guest in the church could hear the approval in his voice as he gave his daughter into the spinner's keeping.
Lyssa relieved Belle of her bouquet as the king moved down the steps to sit beside Lucern in the front pew. Belle barely noticed, lost in the warmth of her groom's soft gaze. The cleric placed his hand atop the couple's clasped hands and chanted a prayer, asking the gods to bless them.
Once more he raised his hands, this time in welcome. "Friends, family, we are gathered here today in the sight of the gods to celebrate the joining of these two souls. Belle, High Princess of Avonlea and Rumpelstiltskin, Earl of Dunsmore, marriage is the most important of all relationships. It should be entered into reverently, thoughtfully and with full understanding of its sacred nature. Your marriage must stand by the strength of your love and the power of faith in each other and in the gods. Just as two threads woven in opposite directions form a beautiful tapestry, so will your two lives when merged together will make a beautiful marriage. Belle and Rumpelstiltskin have chosen to speak their own vows."
Father Bartholomew took a step back and bowed to the princess, giving her leave to begin when she was ready. Belle gravitated a step closer, unable to help herself. He drew her in with his liquid sable eyes and loving smile. "My Rumpel, I don't even know where to begin," she began, her voice wavering slightly with emotion. "When I stepped into that tavern so many months ago … well, I certainly never expected to find love. Especially one so profound." She stopped, drawing in a ragged breath as she chewed thoughtfully on her lower lip. "I knew the moment I saw you, I had to know you. Then later, I knew I would love you. No one has ever touched me the way you have, Rumpelstiltskin. You … both you and Baelfire." She looked down at their precious son with love in her eyes. "You fill a place in my heart I didn't even know was empty. I was proud to give you my heart and now I'm even happier to join my life with yours, to be at your side … forever. I love you so much."
Tears gathered in his eyes to spill over his lashes, overwhelmed by the words pouring forth from her heart. He lifted her hand, his lips brushing reverently over her knuckles. "Belle … I love you, too. I never thought it possible to love so deeply." He cleared his throat. "I've always tried to be a good man. I think I succeeded in being a good father to Baelfire, but … there was so much misery, so much darkness … until you. You bring me a joy and fulfillment I have never known. You make me stronger, my love. You've shown me it's possible for someone to love me." He squeezed her hand as he reached down with his free one to pull his son closer to them so that he might share in the ceremony. "You, Baelfire and I … together we are whole."
Belle bit her lip, hard, as she choked back a sob, tears spilling over her flushed cheeks. She knelt at Bae's side and wrapped her arm about his waist, her smile radiant. "Yes," she said, kissing his little cheek. "Together."
As she rose once more, Bae tucked the pillow with the rings beneath his arm and took his mother's hand, then his father's and brought them together as they gazed down at him quizzically. "Mama, why are you crying?" he whispered as she leaned over to hear him. "I thought you were happy."
"I am, my darling. These are happy tears."
He looked up at his father who nodded as he brushed at his own wet eyes. The boy scrunched up his face, still a bit confused. Finally, he shook his head. "Girls are strange, Papa."
The cleric bit back a laugh, and covered it by clearing his throat. "Shall we continue?" Rumpelstiltskin and Belle shared a look as they both turned towards Father Bartholomew – Baelfire tucked between them – and nodded. The father smiled indulgently at the little family and began again. "Belle, do you take Rumpelstiltskin to be your husband?"
She turned back to her groom and took a deep stuttering breath, her heart beating a rapid tattoo against her ribs. "I do."
"Do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect him, forsaking all others and holding only unto him forevermore?"
"I do."
The cleric's gaze swung to the groom. "Rumpelstiltskin, do you take Belle to be your wife?" he asked.
"I-I do," the spinner stammered, nodding fervently to make sure there was no mistaking his answer.
"Do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect her, forsaking all others and holding only unto her forevermore?"
Rumpelstiltskin beamed at his bride, his smile so wide his face ached with the stretch of muscle and flesh. "Oh, yes … er … I do!"
There was murmuring among the guests, and the king looked as if he were ready to weep with the beauty of his daughter's union. Father Bartholomew nodded at Baelfire to step forward with the rings. "The ring is a symbol of the unbroken circle of love. Love freely given has no beginning and no end." He pulled the rings one by one from the ribbons and handed them to the bride and groom. "May these rings always remind you of the vows you have taken."
Belle rubbed the ring reverently with her thumb. It had belonged to her grandfather and had been tucked away in her mother's jewelry box for years. The simple golden band inlaid with runes had been perfect for her sweet spinner, she'd thought. Her grandmother's ring – a smaller version of her grandfather's – would rest upon her own finger. She was so concentrated on the ring clasped between her fingers, she nearly missed her cue.
"I Belle, take thee, Rumpelstiltskin, to be my husband. To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, in joy and sorrow, and I promise my love to you. With this ring, I pledge thee my troth and take you for my husband, for as long as we both shall live." She slid the ring slowly onto his finger, the adjustments the jeweler had made assuring a perfect fit.
He looked down at the heavy golden band on his finger, the weight foreign. When he'd married Milah – being a poor peasant – he hadn't been able to buy even a cheap token for her to wear on her finger. If he had been able to procure such a thing for her, she'd have likely not thought it good enough. This ring – so sentimentally special to his Belle – could have been made of tin and it would still be the most priceless material object he owned simply because she had given it to him.
Jefferson nudged him in the back when the cleric gave Rumpelstiltskin his cue. Bae pulled on his papa's jacket, and Belle let out a little giggle. "Sorry," the groom said, flushing bright pink beneath the light tanned tone of his skin. "I Rumpelstiltskin, take thee, Belle to be my wife. To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, in joy and sorrow, and I promise my love to you. With this ring, I pledge thee my troth and take you for my wife, for as long as we both shall live." His entire body trembled with joy as her ring slid into place on her finger, his lips pressing a kiss to her knuckle above the gleaming gold.
The cleric raised his hands to the congregation, a smile of approval on his weathered face. "What the gods have joined together, let no man put asunder. By the power vested in me by the kingdom of Avonlea and the blessings of the gods, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the –"
Father Bartholomew's voice trailed away into nothing as Belle threw her arms about her husband and brought her lips to his. It was difficult to kiss him when she couldn't seem to stop grinning like a loon, but she was so ecstatically happy, she couldn't help herself.
Rumpelstiltskin cradled his bride's face in his hands and pressed his brows to hers, breathing a sigh of relief. "You're really mine now," he murmured, basking in the glow of their love. "My beautiful wife."
She nuzzled his nose with hers, her fingers twisting in the ends of his hair. "Finally!" she giggled. "And the sooner we're done with the reception, the sooner we can begin our lives together. Shall we go home?"
The gathered guests clapped exuberantly as Rumpelstiltskin turned to face them and offered his arm to his wife. "As you wish, my love." He couldn't wait.
A/N: I totally suck! And have I mentioned just how much I hate writing weddings. I wanted this chapter to include the wedding AND the reception AND the wedding night. However, that would have made it entirely too long so I'm having to split it. So, next week will be the reception and wedding night. And a little surprise for Bae :D I hope to see you then. Thanks so much for reading!
Much love to last week's reviewers: Wondermorena, ninewood, Erik'sTrueAngel, Melstrife, Grace5231973, orthankg1, kristen0901, Christinaisawesome (chapters 2 & 20), Guest, MyraValhallah, lovepeacebubble121x, and Twyla Mercedes.