I hope ya'll enjoyed the last chapter!
Chapter 17
For nearly ten days they existed in silence.
Complete, deliberate and hateful silence.
He barely saw her save for a slip of light fabric rounding a doorframe or a quick glimpse of her faraway eyes as she sat his plate down before him.
And, if he was lucky enough, he would occasionally pass through the lingering scent of rose-water that she dabbed in the crook of her arm and behind her ears.
That was basically the only proof he had that she was still alive since she was now making herself very, very scarce.
In his presence, however limited, she constantly wore a mask of supreme discomfort and agitation which to his dismay terribly marred her lovely features.
He coped with it by staring either out of the window or down at the floor.
Pride is a terrible sin.
So, Rumplestiltskin added it to his extensive list along with greed, vainglory and, at the present, painful incurable lust.
Every night he dreamed of her coming to him and every morning he awoke with an old familiar rigidity to the south.
He despised himself for becoming so dependent upon her love in such a fast amount of time.
But she was so willing and so beautiful.
He had forgotten what it was like when the body grew used to regular love making; and what happened when it was suddenly cut off like a tap.
It was torture.
Lust was one of many character flaws bestowed upon him by the curse, as was its nature, but he found it perplexing that he could actually love what with all this evil marinating inside of him ready to seep out at any given opportunity.
He knew lust very well, but this love had him baffled.
He loved Baelfire, of course, but that was in a totally different category than what profound love he was feeling for….her.
He had lusted after a few inconsequential women in his many centuries, but they all were exactly that, inconsequential.
Sometimes when he was with her he felt like he could fly; he felt so much joy just by making her laugh it almost made the kiss seem worthwhile if he could hear that melody every day for the rest of his life.
To love Belle was an all-consuming thing.
Yet still he also found joy in hurting her.
It was ecstasy for him when he insulted her and cut her down by her insecurities.
It was the beast inside of him that enjoyed it so.
He had a gift for sniffing out shame, and Belle was smothered by hers.
He could see the dark shame practically dripping off of her when he pushed himself from atop her breathless and sated, he could smell it's pungency when his clawed hands groped under her petticoats to pleasure her, and he could hear it in her muffled sobs when he pressed her naked body to his and tried to help her bear the aching weight of being his whore yet again.
What could he say?
It came with the job.
His footfalls were heavy against the dense stone floors of the east wing as he strode down the dimly lit hall on mission to Belle's chamber door.
Enough was enough.
It had been well over two weeks of enduring her malicious silence and Rumpelstiltskin was very, very tired of it.
He passed hurriedly by wall-length portraits of people whom he had the slightest idea of knowing, dusty suits of armor, and frightening marble statues of demons and gargoyles protectively standing on either side.
His jaw was set in authority as his white blouse billowed open immodestly showing almost all of his gilded chest and stomach; but he did not care.
It wasn't as if she would be seeing anything new….
His arms hung at his sides and he clenched his fists in nervousness.
He passed by numerous doors and un-curtained windows to finally stop at a dark ornate door on his left.
Belle's door.
He turned to face it and brushed his hair back out of his eyes before lifting his hand to knock.
Two torches burned on either side; he ignored the way his flesh glittered in the light….
He knocked hard twice and almost immediately heard a sweet lilting, "Come in Rumpelstiltskin."
Without a second's hesitation, he gripped the golden latch, pushed the door open and stepped confidently into Belle's private salon.
His eyes didn't have to search for her in the beautiful room lighted only by a roaring fire.
She was seated facing him on an ivory chaise with one of her ever-present books resting openly on her lap.
She looked like a Queen on her throne and Rumpelstiltskin's mouth twitched gleefully in spite of himself.
"Yes?" she said inquiringly.
He glanced to her outlined in the flames, "Belle this is silly."
"Whatever do you mean?"
He sighed and rolled his eyes, "This stalemate between us."
He closed the door and turned back to her, "If you're trying to prove a point my dear you're wasting your time."
Belle closed her novel and casually laid it on the little table beside of her, "Oh I don't think our silence is what I have wasted my time on."
He pinched the bridge of his nose and placed his hand on his waist, "And what, pray tell, does that mean?"
"Whatever you wish it to." She clipped coldly.
Belle crossed her stocking covered ankles over one another and adjusted the wide collar of her golden dressing gown.
Rumpelstiltskin watched her as he tried to invent a witty comeback but found himself too distracted by her state of undress.
Belle had him unnerved as always….
She was a minx if ever one lived to receive him dressed only in her chemise, corset, and pantalettes with only an open dressing gown to shield her from his bereft eyes.
She would be a goddess even if she dressed in a russet sack.
His ponderous silence stretched on for another few moments before Belle finally broke it.
"Does this visit merit a reason? I must say I am taken aback that the famous Dark One would seek private audience with me."
Belle raised her eyebrow and lowered her head a fraction, "Alas sir, I apologize if you've come to deal with me for I have nothing left of value for you to take."
"Do you think that I would be taking up any of your precious time if I didn't have a reason? We both know very well I haven't come because of your charming personality and maidenly demeanor."
"Well you've taken other things that were "precious" to me, why should I think my time any different?"
"Damnit Belle!" Rumpelstiltskin growled, "Why must you pick at me?!"
He waved his hands wildly to illustrate his anger.
"Why do you harass me with the same old sins?!"
He gritted his teeth and pointed at her. "You play the virtuous princess!"
He held her gaze, "But how quickly you forget yourself Belle, as I recall it you begged for me to bed you." He paused, "You beg me still."
Her face turned scarlet with humility.
"I suggest you leave now." she hissed with her jaw locked in indignation.
He sauntered forward, confident in his cutting tongue and gripped the back of a richly upholstered chair.
"Why leave? I thought you preferred for me to come my dear." he snapped.
"It's always the same with you isn't it?!" she roared as she rose from her lounge.
"Always the same quips and snide remarks cutting me down where I feel it the most!"
She slapped her hand across her exposed bosom, "You know exactly how to wound me."
He scoffed and toyed with the lace on his cuff, "Please, save your monologues for the stage my dear."
Belle gathered her gown and flew by him ferociously.
"Get Out!" She barked as she yanked the heavy door open with such force the train of her gown blew back from her legs.
He kept his back to her as if he didn't hear her, but his grip had turned deadly on the couch and pieces of the woodwork along the back crumbled in his hands.
For a few heavy moments both were silent, then Rumpelstiltskin spoke softly.
"Would you like to leave here Belle?"
Belle blinked in confusion and slowly her hand dropped from the latch.
"I-I'm sorry, w-what?" she stuttered.
She felt the color drain from her face and she idly wondered if she were to faint would he catch her.
"I said," his back still to her, "Would you like to leave here."
"From this r-room you mean?"
"No my dear," he sighed, "from this castle."
Belle's shaking hand shot up to her mouth and her arm curled protectively around her corseted stomach.
"And from me." He added as he turned to face her; his face long with sadness.
It was the same look he had worn the night he broke her virginity.
She hated that look.
Her eyes were wide and glassy as she leaned against the door for support.
Her mind reeled with words, but her mouth couldn't form them.
She looked helplessly to Rumpelstiltskin who simply looked down to the floor.
Coward.
She pressed her arm tighter against the boning of her corset and blinked back the hot tears that had begun to flood her eyes.
A light sob broke through her tight throat but it was muffled by her fingers,
Rumpelstiltskin looked thoughtfully to her.
"I think you would live a happier life away from me."
Belle closed her eyes and pressed her palm harder against her mouth.
He could not do this to her; not now...
"I cannot give you what you want Belle, and I will never be able to become what you need."
He leaned against the ruined chair and folded his arms across his chest.
Her breath was coming out in hard sobs and she fought for control, all the while her arm stayed constant against her womb.
She lived to be with him despite his fallacious mood swings and foul tempers.
She worshipped him.
And now, she needed him more than ever.
It was True Love….
Belle and Rumpelstiltskin continued to stand in uncomfortable silence.
He wondered if she was in some sort of shock by the way she stood holding herself and the way her hand clamped across her mouth so tightly.
"Belle?" he asked, his voice heavy with concern, "Are you alright?"
She stifled a sob and slowly opened her watery eyes.
"Rumpelstiltskin…."
Her voice quivered and quaked around his name as she dropped her hand atop the other on her stomach.
"What is it Belle?"
His eyes were pained and searching, "What is the matter?"
"I am with child."