Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. This is a work of pure fiction. All characters and events depicted in this story are entirely fictitious. Any similarity to actual events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Tags: #Belle/Rumpelstiltskin, #Snow/Charming, #Belle, #Rumpelstiltskin, #Snow White, #Prince Charming, #Regina/#Evil Queen, #Romance, #Secrets, #Wedding (NOT theirs), #Fake dating/relationship, #True Love's Kiss, #In Vino Veritas, #Rumbelle bingo tumblr event, #Roses, #Smut

Summary: The Charmings invite the Dark One and a guest of his choosing to their wedding and a week-long feast of celebration. Chaos comes in the form of a rather rare wine, true love's kiss, and a secret Rumpelstiltskin can hardly dare believe to be real.

a/n: Hello, my lovelies! Welcome to my entry for our newest tumblr event: Rumbelle Bingo. My row of prompts included #Secrets, #Wedding, #Fake dating/relationship, #In Vino Veritas and #Roses. For a bonus, I'm going to throw in #vulnerability and #true love's kiss to make things really interesting. I really hope you enjoy it. Please let me know what you think!

Darling Dearest

By:

CharlotteAshmore

I

Belle didn't know which of her ailments irked her more … her bruised heart or her blistered feet. What had she been thinking trying to walk all the way down the mountain to the village in the heeled slippers she wore? Her heart was another matter entirely. Had Rumpelstiltskin known how much he'd hurt her by sending her away? Did he even care, she wondered for the hundredth time since she'd left the dark castle that afternoon. Stubborn man! she silently cursed.

She'd gotten too close, asked too often for him to let her in, wanting nothing more than to share her life with him and have him share his in return. It didn't take her exceptionally high IQ to figure out that he cared for her, even before the queen had stopped her on the road with tales of true love and curses. It wasn't as if she could trust Queen Regina, having heard her beloved master curse her name more than once when he'd thought Belle wasn't listening.

Her shoulders drooped dejectedly as she continued to trek her way home. If she'd contemplated a different relationship with Rumpelstiltskin, one where she could confess her feelings of a more romantic nature … well, that was now out of the question. If her wily sorcerer was somehow suffering under the effects of a curse, she wasn't about to attempt to break it without consulting him first. What if he was happy being the dark one? She couldn't do that to him … not if she loved him. And she had no doubt in her mind about it, her heart beating a little faster the closer she got to the castle she called home.

A slow, hopeful smile tugged at her lips as she made her way through the gates and onto the cobbled path leading into the courtyard. Rumpelstiltskin expected her to be halfway home by now, no doubt. Wouldn't he be surprised that she'd returned to him, she thought happily. She bit back a chuckle. Knowing him as she did, he would be completely flummoxed by her return and spend the next fortnight trying to discover her reasons as to why she'd come back. She always had loved a challenge.

Belle tried her best not to limp as she entered the great hall, the double doors closing behind her. She pasted a bright smile on her face and slung her cloak over the back of his chair next to the formal dining table. He was perched upon the stool behind his spinning wheel, and she wondered if he were trying to forget her already.

"Oh, you're back already," he called out to her, his voice higher pitched than normal. A palpable sign that his nerves were showing. "Good … good thing. I'm nearly out of straw."

She arched a brow and pursed her lips, fighting a smile as she hummed in the back of her throat. Setting the basket down near his spinning wheel, she peered at him through the spokes. "Come on, you're happy that I'm back," she teased.

He wrinkled his nose at her. "I'm not unhappy."

"I'm glad. Now we can put all this nonsense about sending me away behind us," she said firmly, turning away from his wheel to proceed to the kitchen. "I'm going to see about fetching us a tea tray … since some cantankerous old sorcerer thought it prudent to waste my time fetching straw when he has an entire storeroom full of it next to the bloody dungeon." The last was grumbled under her breath as another twinge of pain shot through the sole of her foot. Another broken blister she would be forced to tend when she was finally able to retire for the night.

Belle had to get away from him, the need to flee seeming to coalesce in the very marrow of her bones. The temptation to sit with him at his wheel and run her fingers through his wild mane of curls, to clasp his beloved face in her hands and softly press her lips to his … she stifled a whimper, her teeth sinking into the rosy flesh of her bottom lip. Yes, fleeing his presence and hiding away in her kitchen for an hour – or five – seemed to be the way to go. She very nearly made it, too.

"Stop. Right. There," came the quiet command as she reached out, her hand on the door handle.

Belle winced before steeling herself to turn and face him, schooling her features into an inquisitive smile. "Uhm … did you require something aside from the straw?" she asked, praying her voice wouldn't betray the emotion welling within her.

Rumpelstiltskin regarded her through narrowed, guarded eyes, more than a little suspicious of her behavior. He had never expected to see her again, yet there she stood, anxious to flee his sight. The index fingers of both hands pointed down to her shoes though his gaze never released hers. "Why are you limping?"

"Was I?" she squeaked out.

"Yes, dearie, you were."

She smoothed her hands down over her skirt before her traitorous fingers grasped the material, her hands fisting in the material to keep them from visibly shaking. "Well, it was a long walk, Rumpelstiltskin. My feet are tired." At least she could be thankful he hadn't called her on her earlier impertinence.

The sorcerer straightened, one brow cocked dubiously. "I see."

She pressed her back firmly against the door behind her and tried not to sigh in relief. "Yes, nothing to worry about. I'm fine," she murmured demurely, her smile brightening though it didn't quite reach her eyes.

He tilted his head slightly and watched her carefully, looking for any hint of subversion. "Walk for me," he commanded, his tone just as calm as before.

Belle swallowed audibly as his mouth turned up in a knowing smirk. Damn and blast! "Walk?"

"Yes, dearie. You know … one foot in front of the other until your legs carry you across the room? I take it you haven't forgotten how," he drawled dryly.

She rolled her eyes at him and shook her head, but she knew there would be no getting out of it. He was like a dog with a bone when he wanted something, and she had no doubt he suspected she was hiding something from him. "No, I haven't forgotten, Rumpelstiltskin," she sassed right back at him.

Gnashing her teeth as he waved a hand in the general direction of the dining table, she took a slow step forward. Pain shot through her entire left foot, but she held in her gasp. She was rather proud of herself for soldiering through what felt like a thousand shards of glass cutting into her skin. At least until she stepped wrong and overcorrected, bearing more of her weight onto her right foot to ease the agony in her left.

"Aha!" the dark one barked in satisfaction. "You are limping."

Belle cried out in alarm as she was hefted up into his arms and she found herself being carried across the room. He set her down unceremoniously in one of the two wingback chairs before the hearth, realizing after a moment it was the one she favored. When she came to her senses, he already had her shoes off and was glowering rather disgustedly at her feet. With a whisp of magic, her stockings vanished. It came as a great relief because she didn't know how she would have contained herself from touching him if she'd had to endure those elegant spinner's hands on her thighs to release her garters.

Rumpelstiltskin's voice was barely more than a whisper and filled with so much self-loathing, she could hardly stand it. "I did this to you."

"What?" she asked quietly, her brow furrowed in a deep frown. "Rumpelst- Rumple, what are you talking about? You didn't do this."

He ground his teeth together so hard, she expected to hear them crack under the pressure. A lone finger traced over the blisters she could see on the soles of her left foot as he examined it carefully, gently probing one which hadn't burst yet. "I did, Belle. I granted you your freedom and sent you away … without even basic necessities to see to your welfare on the long journey home. How could I have expected you to get there without even a sturdy pair of boots and proper clothing? I am a beast."

He flinched as her fingers smoothed over his cheek before her palm came to rest against his jaw, but his amber gaze remained affixed to her foot. "Will you please stop being ridiculous?"

That seemed to garner his attention, his head snapping up so sharply she could hear the bones in his neck crackle and pop. "What –"

Belle smiled, her thumb briefly brushing his lower lip – because of course, she couldn't seem to help herself – before she settled back in her chair to watch him. "While I think it was a wonderful gesture to grant me my freedom, I always planned to return home."

Rumpelstiltskin blinked several times, unable to stifle the shiver which tripped up his spine, before coming back to himself. "That was the point, dearie. You were to return home, and I failed to make sure you had the supplies to see you got there."

She shook her head. "I believe we are suffering from a miscommunication of what home is. Therefore, when I said I had always planned to return home, I meant home to the dark castle." Belle sighed when he conjured a large bowl full of warm water and set her foot into it. A small vial of restorative potion was soon uncorked and poured into the water, and she could feel the tingle of magic upon her broken skin. "It isn't your fault my shoes weren't adequate for a trip to town. I have to admit, I didn't think of it before I set off through the gate."

He set her right foot to join her left before he rose up on his knees, inching closer, resting either of his hands on the arms of her chair. The air stilled momentarily in her lungs before growing a bit heavier, the frantic beating of her heart echoing in her ears.

Rumpelstiltskin leaned in closer, his nose mere inches from hers as he peered into her face, looking for any sign of insincerity. "Why did you come back?" he whispered, studying her oh so carefully.

Belle answered his question with one of her own. "Why wouldn't I, Rumpelstiltskin? As I said … this is my home." You are my home.

The dark one sat back on his haunches, frowning deeply as he tried to understand her reasoning. "Belle, you could have gone back to Avonlea, back to your family, your friends." But not that oaf of a betrothed. I took care of him rather nicely, if I do say so myself. "Your sacrifice – giving your life in servitude to a monster – saved your kingdom. They would welcome you back with welcome arms. Perhaps, with a grand parade to celebrate your return."

The smile slowly slid from her lips, and her eyes darkened with sadness. "Would they?" she asked, her shoulders drooping a little. "I'm pretty certain my papa wrote me off the second I went against his wishes. He wanted so badly for me to marry Gaston and rule Avonlea as was my birthright, but what good would it have been to stay with imminent death and destruction knocking at the front gates? My sacrifice might have saved my kingdom, but that doesn't mean they'd accept me if I were to return."

His eyes shifted away from her once more. "Your association with me has tainted you. Your reputation is in ruins," he laughed bitterly.

Her hand reached out and grasped his before he could flee to his tower and lose himself in his magic, his self-imposed solitude, and she couldn't bear for him to leave her there all alone. Not now. "Rumpel … I never wanted that life. Avonlea hasn't been home to me since my mother died. When you offered your deal, I was terrified of the unknown, scared of what you might do to me, but it was also the best decision I've ever made in my life."

"Belle …"

Brushing her thumb lightly against the tracery of veins in his wrist, the smile returned to her lips. "You saved me, gave me a home, and the best friend I've ever had. I know how hard you wanted to play the monster, Rumpelstiltskin, but it wasn't difficult to find the man you don't want others to see. Even at your worst, you're not as horrible as you think you are. Please don't send me away … not now when I've finally found happiness."

Disbelief washed over his features, as if she was a puzzle he'd never solve. Finally, he sighed, shaking off her hand and turning his attention back to her feet. "You really wish to stay?" he asked, wanting her to be sure.

"I do … Rumpel."

He visibly shivered at the way the shortened version of his name glided so sinuously from her tongue, his hands trembling as he banished her foot bath and wrapped a towel around her feet which sat upon his lap. "Very well, dearie," he agreed, "but I don't think it fair to have you remain in the capacity of my maid.

Belle chuckled. "Well, it's not as though I was ever very good at it."

He snorted a laugh, a genuine smile curving his lips. "At least you did make an effort." His fingers wiggled over her shoes, a faint blue glow charming them before he handed them to her. "Here you are. You won't be getting blisters anytime soon."

Biting her lip in indecision, still wanting very much to spend more time with him, she finally sighed and slipped her shoes onto her healed feet. "How about I see to that tea I promised you?"

Rumpelstiltskin glanced towards the windows where darkness had fallen and shook his head. "No, I'll get it … and perhaps some of that leftover soup you made for lunch. I'll bring it to the library. That'll give you time to wash the road dust off yourself."

She let him pull her to her feet, peering coyly at him from beneath her lashes. "I'd be happy to join you, Rumpelstiltskin. Besides … you owe me a story."

*.*.*

Rumpelstiltskin watched her flounce out of the great hall, his face still wreathed in a mixture of shock and confusion. What the hell had just happened? She'd come back. He'd released her from their deal and she'd … come … back. Because she wanted to stay with him. He glanced down at himself in disgust. The scaly skin, green gold in color, his unnaturally large eyes, and the darkness which clung to him was nothing to write home about. Yet, she touched him as if she didn't mind his off-putting appearance. In fact, if he were to dwell upon it for a moment, he would have to admit she did it quite often.

Belle never hesitated to let their fingers brush when she handed him his cup of afternoon tea. When she was particularly excited about something, it wasn't unusual to have her throw her arms around his neck and squeeze the breath out of him. She would skim her delicate hands over his shoulders while he sat at the wheel, grasp his hand as she told him details of the current book she was reading, and brush her hands over his cloak when he'd ready himself to depart for a deal.

It just didn't make any sense to him. Why would she want to stay with the monster? He'd taken her from her home and family, treated her horribly and isolated her from the world in a bid to keep his little treasure to himself. He could understand her fears of returning to Avonlea. Her father, the king, seemed the type to shun her, to shut her out and turn his back on her for having the audacity to go against his wishes. Maurice would view her as damaged goods after living alone with the dark one for nearly a year.

An unconscious growl rumbled out of his throat at the thought of the monarch mistreating his Belle. The feral sound cut off as he realized what his inner voice had just revealed. Yet, how could he think otherwise? She had been his since she'd first taken his hand and agreed to forever.

Rumpelstiltskin refused to lie to himself. He wished he could. Then he could spare himself the pain. He loved her to the very depths of his darkened soul. She had shown him compassion, friendship and – dare he hope? – love. She was a shining beacon of light, guiding him towards her and more and more away from the darkness which sought to drown him.

His precious love … his darling dearest. Now, he was blessed with the opportunity to truly show her the man behind the mask of the beast. A giggle burst past his lips as a weight was lifted off his shoulders. I make her happy. Well, maybe she could make him happy, too. He'd learn what it meant to be her friend, and he took comfort in the fact she would be the first he'd ever had. Someone who liked him for him instead of his power. His Belle only wanted him, the man.

The sorcerer could smell the faint scent of peony and sweet rose from the soft soap he'd created for her waft downstairs, and it reminded him he had offered to collect their dinner. With a smile, he made his way to the kitchen to carry out his task.

*.*.*

Belle scrubbed the towel over her wet hair as she made her way into her room, fresh from her bath. She'd had a long soak in the tub, her heart filled with gladness to be home once more and free of the heartache she'd felt when she'd thought Rumpelstiltskin didn't want her anymore. Of course, she'd had to take the initiative and bare her feelings – well, some of them, at least – and tell him what she wanted. It had been that first crucial step needed.

A smile formed instantaneously on her lips as her cerulean gaze took in the tartan nightdress and ebony robe draped over the foot of her bed. A gift? The pattern was a black, crimson and gold she recognized as belonging solely to the sorcerer she adored, and a sigh whooshed past her teeth as she ran her hand over the material of the softest flannel. It would keep her warm and toasty. Early spring still boasted the snows which plagued the mountain, though less severe than the dead of winter.

Yet, what made her giggle was the pair of gold slippers next to the robe lined with what felt like ermine when she dipped a finger inside to brush against the soft fur. His guilt ofttimes worked in her favor though it was never her intention. Belle dropped the towel and held the nightdress up to her, twirling around in her happiness before slipping it on.

She made her way to her modest wardrobe and threw the door open to fetch a pair of knickers only to have her jaw drop in astonishment. Hanging alongside her modest work dresses were gowns of silk, satin, velvet, some with short sleeves, some long. Others embroidered with flowers or vines in intricate patterns, some with delicate beadwork, but all just as richly appointed as those she'd once worn in Avonlea as her station dictated. Opening the drawers, there were petticoats and underpinnings, corsets and crinolines. In the back there were several cloaks, and pairs of gloves, and shoes and boots lined the floor of the vast closet.

Snatching a pair of fine lace knickers from the top drawer, she hurriedly donned them before going back to the bed to pull on her robe and slippers. Apparently, her darling sorcerer was feeling more than a little guilty over the previous state of her feet … or he really was trying to show her he would accept her as his friend and companion. She was really hoping it was the latter.

She grabbed up the silver-backed hairbrush from the vanity and peered into the enchanted mirror, wincing as the bristles snagged on more than one tangle. Brushing her hair was normally quite soothing after her bath, but in her haste to join Rumpelstiltskin, this evening she found it to be the most tedious of chores. When she had managed a neat braid, she pinched her cheeks for a little color – not that she needed it at the moment – and hurried to the door, hoping her former master hadn't had to wait too long for her to meet him in the library.

Belle was slightly out of breath when she reached the library, and she wasn't the least surprised to find him sat at the spinning wheel he'd moved into the room several months prior. His gaze peeked at her from behind his curtain of wild curls, almost as if he didn't know what to think of her, that wary look of distrust causing the lines about his mouth and eyes to seem more prominent.

She knew he must still be questioning her motives for wanting to remain in his home with him, but she was confident they could work through their issues and learn to trust one another. Easier for her than for her darling sorcerer, but nothing she felt was insurmountable.

Rumpelstiltskin hesitantly rose from the stool behind the wheel and took a careful step towards her. "Enjoy your bath, dearie? I was beginning to wonder if you'd fallen asleep in the tub."

And just like that, she felt herself relax as they fell into the easy camaraderie they'd enjoyed so often of late. "Well, it wouldn't be the first time," she laughed, moving to the chaise where their dinner awaited them on the low tea table before the hearth, steam still rising from the twin bowls of soup he'd brought up, kept warm by his magic.

She tightened the belt on the warm, flannel dressing gown over her nightdress, and took her seat, patting the spot next to her in the hopes he would join her there instead of the worn leather armchair he'd deposited there last week. He didn't disappoint her, but he still looked to be out of sorts.

Belle had taken several bites of her dinner when at last he spoke. "Did … uhm … did you perchance find anything you liked in the village? A trinket? Ribbons for your hair?" he asked, trying to fill the silence which seemed to have become increasingly deafening in the tower room.

Her gaze flitted to the way his spoon made swirls in the broth though he never moved to take a bite. "No, I didn't take the time to look around. I was anxious to return home before dark," she explained, "and gods forbid I should have stumbled upon a bookseller. I might have kept you waiting nigh on a week!"

Some of the tension eased from his shoulders at the teasing note in her voice, but the small smile he wore was strained. "Perhaps you should have done a bit of exploring."

Belle set her empty bowl back on the tray and reached for the teapot, pouring some into his chipped cup before filling her own. "Nonsense," she scoffed, taking his now chilled and untouched soup, and swapping it for his cup. "I believe it will be more fun if you and I can explore together."

Rumpelstiltskin snorted in a self-deprecating manner, one which never failed to set her teeth on edge. "Oh, yes, dearie, and the second anyone sees you on my arm, the rumors will begin, and you will be just as shunned here as you would be in Avonlea."

Belle rolled her eyes. "Because I care so much about what others think of me, Rumpel."

He set the cup down a bit more forcefully than necessary and shot to his feet, pacing restlessly before he braced both hands on the mantle and stared down at the flames. "It's not too late. I can send you home. There are these species of trolls rather proficient in memory charms. They could wipe the memory of our deal from your entire kingdom and you could pick up where you left off."

Her stomach roiled with apprehension and her eyes smarted with angry tears. "You would do that to me? Send me home to a loveless marriage where I am bound to honor my duty to be Gaston's broodmare?!"

Rumpelstiltskin flinched as he turned to face her, his hands spread before him in surrender. "I … I don't know how to … to be your friend, Belle."

Her anger bled away in the face of his vulnerability. "You're being ridiculous again," Belle murmured softly as she rose to make her way to his side, taking his hands into her own. "You are already my friend, Rumpelstiltskin. You have been for a long time, now, just by being yourself. I don't want to change you or have you change on my account. I only want to share my life with you."

He shook his head at her. "You are such an odd girl. Have you always had such an affinity for monsters?"

Belle pulled him back over to the settee with her, smiling mischievously. "I wouldn't know … Gaston and the ogres were the closest I ever got to one." She dragged the throw from the back of the cushion and settled it over her lap as he sat beside her. "Now, you owe me a story."

Rumpelstiltskin's chin dropped to his chest in defeat, unable to meet her inquisitive gaze. This was his chance to keep the promise he'd made, but he was terrified it would send her running. "I lost him," he told her, his voice dropping in register. "There's nothing more to tell, really."

Belle bit her lip as she reached out and took his hand, twining their fingers together to lend him support. "You don't have to tell me, but you don't have to be afraid I would ever judge you."

"I'm not in the habit of breaking my deals."

"Two in one day would be a bit much?" she countered gently. When he made no other move to continue, she sighed. "Sometimes, it makes me feel better to share my burdens with another. It doesn't make them less painful … but perhaps just a little lighter."

She felt the shuddering breath which seemed to wreak havoc on his wiry frame, and she didn't think twice about guiding him down on his side to rest his head upon her lap. Her arm went around his shoulder and her fingers toyed with the ends of his hair. If all he wanted was the comfort of her embrace, she would grant it freely.

"Baelfire … my son. His name is Baelfire," came his hoarse whisper as he fixed his gaze upon the flames crackling wildly in the hearth. A tear slid over his weathered cheek as he realized just how long it had been since he'd allowed himself to speak the name of his beloved child. He focused on gentle fingers carding through his hair as the centuries melted away and brought him back to his past.

He told her of his marriage to a woman for which he'd never felt more than fondness, of a seer who'd prophesized the birth of his son, and his actions that fateful day he'd crippled himself. The mage spoke of the years he'd lived as a spinner, the village coward, and the son who'd shown kindness, a zest for life and love for his papa. His inner demon howled when he spoke of taking on the curse – though without the added detail of the dagger which controlled him – and how he'd ended the war which would have surely destroyed his son.

"Bae hated what I'd become," he explained. "He wanted his father back. He didn't understand the darkness that controlled my every action in the early days of the curse. I made a deal with him … if he could find a way to break my curse, without killing me, I would do it. I never thought he'd go to Rhuel Ghorm. She gave him a magic bean which would take us to a land without magic where my curse would be dormant, but when the portal opened, I couldn't force myself to go through with it." He turned his head to look up at her, trying valiantly to will his eyes open as he came to the end of his tale. "I can still feel his hand slipping from mine, Belle, still hear his voice screaming at me, calling me a coward."

"Oh, Rumpel …" she cried, her fingers gently trailing through the tracks of his tears. "Is there no way for us to find him?"

The dark one stared up at the woman he loved, the ever-present voices in his head silenced, her very presence and understanding bringing him a peace he'd never felt before in his rather long life. "One … but that's a story for another day."

Belle felt ragged and raw, his grief becoming her own, and when he tried to move away and give her space, she recoiled. She was well acquainted with his self-destructive nature and knew it would be detrimental to leave him to his own devices for the remainder of the evening. "Stay with me? I'm not ready to go to bed, and to be honest, I'd rather not be alone. Will you stay with me?"

It was much easier to gain his acceptance should he believe he was doing her a favor instead of giving in to his own desires.

Rumpelstiltskin nodded, watching her closely as she squeezed between him and the back of the settee. He settled at her side, surprised when she spread the blanket over both of them and then opened her arms to him. "Belle …"

She only smiled and drew him close, hugging him tightly as his head came to rest against her chest.

a/n: My prompts will be in bold type and will be scattered throughout the entirety of the fic. I'm looking to have five to seven chapters, but I wanted to make sure this first one was posted in time for the March 6th deadline. I really hope you enjoyed it and continue to read!