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Chapter 21
Hearing Belle's voice from across the room made his stomach slam into his spine.
He quickly stuffed the vial inside of his dragon hide coat hoping he was now safely under the cover of twilight.
"Whatever are you talking about dearie?" he barked out in a nervous voice that most certainly did not belong to him.
Belle cocked her head to one side, "You had something in your hand surely."
He could hear the dis-trust in her voice.
"There was nothing in my hand Belle, is your 'condition' making you delirious or something?"
He barked at her like she could have been nothing more than a Miller's Daughter.
I'm sorry…
He couldn't help it.
He could feel her still standing there, even though she didn't make a sound.
He could feel the heat from her body and the vibration of her heart beat.
But underneath it all, he could hear another heartbeat.
Small and faint, but it was there all the same.
"Papa!"
"Have you nothing to say Belle? Your silence does irritate me beyond reason."
"Sometimes," she said low, "silence is the smartest remark."
"How right you are!" he sang.
Belle's hand drifted automatically to her womb.
"You should try to take your own advice to heart dearie."
Belle scoffed and shifted to lean against the doorframe, "What do you want of me? When I am silent I irritate you and when I speak-"
She stopped mid-sentence, quietly closed the door and walked back up to her rooms.
But she wasn't alone.
She shan't be alone ever again.
As he stared down at the vial of potion that would kill their child Rumplestiltskin remembered the first time he saw her.
She was so beautiful.
But it wasn't just her beauty; he had beheld women considered far more beautiful than she many times before, but her presence.
It was arresting.
She was like a magnet pulling him toward her, he had to have her.
The way those incredible eyes darted around assessing everyone and everything with such shielded scrutiny made him almost giggle.
She was well-bred, he could tell, and by the way she clutched that book, also well educated.
She was a small girl, but at the same time she wasn't.
She was great and regal.
The way she held her chin made him smile.
No one would ever get the better of her….
She was a welcome part of the War Room and probably knew every soldier by name and rank.
Yet she was a lady in the same turn.
Dressed so fashionably in gold, it was almost like an omen.
Her skin was like a pail of fresh cream and he would wager his dagger that it had never gone out under the harsh sun without protection of a bonnet, gloves, and parasol.
He could also see it coated up to the elbows in some poor soldier-boy's blood or clad in oven-mittens lifting bread from the Castle oven.
She was good.
It's been centuries since he had seen anyone truly good….
Between that gleaming hair and ivory skin, Rumplestiltskin was at a loss.
"My price is her."
Sleep did not come easily to Belle that night; truth be told it hadn't come easily since she was sure of her condition.
When she wasn't retching into her chamber pot, her thoughts were always of Rumplestiltskin.
Of how she hated him yet loved him in the same breath….
She yearned for him day and night, but her damnable pride kept her from him.
As his did her…
She carrying his child inside of her body, she could feel it grow every day and soon his child would be here.
Would he ignore her with their daughter in her arms?
Would she ignore him?
She lay there, staring up at the lace canopy as she rubbed little circles against her stomach.
She hadn't bothered to draw the heavy drapes, so the room was illuminated only by blue moonlight.
The floor-length windows looked like large checker boards drawn out across the wood floor and her bedclothes glowed in the darkness.
Her thoughts were only of longing, the longing for Rumplestiltskin's voice, his touch, the way his eyes clouded with unspeakable love, it made her eyes glossy with tears because of how much she longed for him.
She twirled a curl idly as she lay on her back mentally wishing for her True Love.
He treated her abhorrently at times yes, but didn't they both cut each other to shreds?
The way they slashed and tore at one another was loathsome, yet it was their way.
They were damaged…
Belle wasn't the innocent Princess covered in her bravery; she was lying in a cold bed pregnant with the bastard child of the most fearsome being in the realms.
Her snow white gown had long been stained with his darkness.
But I love him….
"Rumplestiltskin…"
"I can be happy with her." He whispered to the vial in his horrid hands.
"She can be enough."
To become a father again….
Maybe he wasn't all black and evil.
Perhaps he had suffered enough.
Now he could have what he always wanted, Belle.
"She is everything good and right." He said as his eyes took on a faraway look.
"Our future can be bright."
Before his eyes he felt summer sunlight and saw ocean blue skies littered with fat white clouds.
His body was warm and not far in front of him was Belle, brilliant and lovely as she carried their daughter on her hip.
Her auburn hair was loose save for a yellow silk ribbon tied into a bow at her crown.
Her feet, like their daughters, were bare and pink as they sank into the plush grass.
A light breeze blew against Belle and her gown molded against her body, framing her maternal curves like he had only before seen in marble statues.
Sienna waves plastered against her blushing cheek and even from a distance he could see how blue her eyes were.
She was Demeter cradling Persephone, and he was nothing more than a mere mortal in awe of their beauty.
She smiled at him, locking eyes, and kissed their child's temple lovingly before placing her on the soft green grass and pointed to Rumplestiltskin.
"Go to Papa!" Belle said as she gave their child a reassuring push forward.
Little Belle.
She ran wobbly and unsteadily as she tried to hold up the hem of her white dress and hold onto the little bouquet of wildflowers her Mother had picked for her.
The pale pink sash tied around her middle flew behind her like her own personal kite and Rumplestiltskin felt the smile pull across his face as his arms opened wide to receive the angelic bundle that was galloping towards him.
She had his hair, brown curls that only touched her earlobes and bounced with each step.
But the rest of her was Belle.
"Papa!" she called with those bright blue eyes growing wider and wider as she got closer to him.
Her skin was nearly the same color as her gown and she had the same blooming blush on her cheeks as her Mother.
Belle came running when her daughter tripped on the gown and tumbled forward onto the lush carpet underneath her baby feet.
Rumplestiltskin came running too.
"Papaaa!" she sobbed as Belle pulled her, all grass stains and hurt feelings, into her lap and kissed her chocolate mop soothingly.
Belle smiled up at him and winked one icy eye but continued to coddle their little girl.
He loomed over them protectively, his shadow covering them in dark shade.
"Papa!" his child wailed as her pudgy arms reached up for him from Belle's bosom.
"Papa?" Belle beamed.
He never loved her more than he did now bathed in midday sun, her chestnut mane glimmering, their baby steadfast against her breast as he gazed into her almost colorless blue eyes.
His gaze shifted to their little girl and he couldn't help but to smile broadly at her.
He scooped her up into his arms and she immediately snuggled against his waistcoat, clinging to the ruffles on his blouse.
Her little cheek rested against his golden chest and he pressed his nose to her curls.
She smelled pure.
How could something from him be so pure?
Belle rose and placed her hand lovingly on his forearm, "Papa."
Rumplestiltskin smiled and nuzzled against his child's nest of beautiful hair.
Little Belle.