Chapter Forty-Eight—"The Third Time Is…"
She was sleeping so soundly that Rumplestiltskin couldn't bear to wake her up, even if Belle had asked him the night before not to let her sleep in. But the look on her face was so beautifully peaceful, so relaxed, that he couldn't bring himself to get out of bed, let alone disturb her. Rumplestiltskin had planned on getting up early, gathering the few things he wanted from his work room, and then eating a quiet breakfast with Belle while Bae took care of Emma and Henry. He'd had it all planned out, carved out a few moments when he was certain that he could propose without suffering an interruption…and now here he was, ruining it all because he couldn't make himself wake her up as planned.
He must have needed sleep, however, because Rumplestiltskin drifted back off with Belle in his arms, only to wake up when the banging on their bedroom door became so insistent that they could no longer ignore it.
"Hmmm?" Belle mumbled groggily, her head still buried against his chest. Groaning, Rumplestiltskin blinked his eyes open, staring blankly at the ornately carved ceiling while coherency crept in through the fog of sleep.
He'd always hated that ceiling, but had never bothered to replace it with something else. It wasn't really ugly, just a little too fancy for his tastes, and…
Bang. Bang. Bang. BANG!
"Papa?" Bae's voice drifted through the door, sounding worried. And not for the first time, Rumplestiltskin realized, belatedly. Before he could open his mouth to answer his son, the door suddenly opened. "Everything okay?"
"We were sleeping, Bae," Belle pointed out plaintively, her voice as close to a whine as Belle's voice ever was.
"Everything's fine, Bae." Rumplestiltskin chuckled softly, glancing at his love. Thank goodness that they were clothed; otherwise, he had no doubt that Bae would have been wearing an expression that was a far cry from the smile currently on his face.
"Great to hear. We are trying to, uh, leave, you know," his son said bluntly, leaning on the doorframe. "Did you two miss that memo, or did you just forget to set your alarm clock?"
"No alarm clocks here," Belle mumbled, her eyes closing again. She'd really never been a morning person, Rumplestiltskin knew; in fact, Belle had been a terrible maid in that respect. He'd always gotten up earlier than her, but somehow Rumplestiltskin hadn't minded that, even in the early days. Not that he'd slept much as the Dark One, anyway. He'd often spun all night, trying to avoid dreams and nightmares both.
"We'll be with you in a few," he said as reasonably as he could, shooting his son a look that he hoped would shoo Baelfire out of the room.
It earned him a shrug, at least. "Sure. Emma, Henry, and I will be waiting."
"You could go on ahead without us," Rumplestiltskin pointed out hopefully. "Emma can take you there."
"Not a chance. If we don't drag you along, you'll cop out. I know that the last place you want to go is to a meeting of the Grand Alliance with the Charmings, Pop, but you know it's necessary. Even if it's going to be—"
"Endless political arguments that I don't want to participate in and am not invited to participate in?" he cut Bae off, his good mood souring at the thought. Much though he'd spent decades manipulating politicians, Rumplestiltskin rather hated politics. He had no desire to sit around and listen to a bunch of royals argue with one another, and even less desire to listen to the Blue Fairy tell them all about how much good she was doing.
Of course, the fact that Blue was going pretty much solidified the fact that Rumplestiltskin would attend, no matter how little he wanted to, particularly since the Grand Council was being held in Snow and Charming's castle. He couldn't, wouldn't, trust Ruel Ghorm to give up her quest for Henry's heart—after all, Rumplestiltskin knew from personal experience that she was willing to sacrifice a child's future to suit her concept of serving the 'greater good'. Even having been reunited with his son didn't lessen the burn of the way Blue had given Baelfire a magic bean with no explanation. She hadn't cared about Bae's safety or happiness; she'd only wanted to get him out of the Enchanted Forest to suit her needs. Blue hadn't cared about the fourteen year old who her actions—and Rumplestiltskin's cowardice, certainly—had hurt. She'd only cared about the 'greater good'.
Rumplestiltskin was an expert on using others for his own purposes, but at least he owned up to what he'd done. Yes, he'd made Regina into a monster to make sure his curse was cast. Yes, he'd inadvertently fed Zelena's rapid envy until she became utterly unredeemable. Yes, he'd manipulated Snow, Charming, and a host of others to make sure Emma would be born and able to cast the curse. But he'd never stood up and tried to tell those people that they were better off because of his actions. Even he wasn't that egotistical.
"I thought you said that you needed to be there," his son interrupted his irritated musings, and Rumplestiltskin sighed.
"I did. And I will. I just don't have to be happy about it."
"See you in a bit, then?" Bae asked. "When you two are, uh, more decent?"
"You're one to talk," Belle muttered mutinously, making Rumplestiltskin look over at her curiously. She'd finally pulled her face out of the protective shelter of his chest to throw Bae a very significant glance. Clearly there was a story there, because Rumplestiltskin's son blushed.
"So not the same thing," he protested.
Belle snorted. "No, it's not. We have clothes on."
"Is there something I missed?" Rumplestiltskin couldn't stop himself from asking, his eyebrows going up as his eyes danced with mirth.
"No!" his son replied immediately, backing out of the doorway in a hurry. "I'll be downstairs."
The door slammed shut again, and Belle giggled, her body shaking as she snuggled against Rumplestiltskin once more. "How long do you think we have before he comes back?"
The laugh that tore out of Rumplestiltskin surprised him; he loved Belle's naughty side, infrequent though it came out. "At least an hour," he replied with a grin, leaning in to kiss her.
"Shall we try to traumatize your son, then?" Belle smiled back, blue eyes gleaming mischievously.
Her hands were already slipping inside his night shirt; it was obvious that Belle knew what Rumplestiltskin's answer would be. Chuckling slightly, he just wrapped his arms around her and feeling more alive than he had during the week that had passed since the fae had stopped beating on his wards. Healed though he'd been, it had taken his magic and his body some time to recover from what Danns had done to him; Rumplestiltskin had been so tired all the time, and yet unable to sleep well through the nightmares. Yet Belle knew him so well; she knew when to wait and when to press, and knew when her touch and her smile could banish all of his demons.
They did, however, make it downstairs before Bae sent Henry up to get them the next time. Barely. That Belle and Rumplestiltskin emerged bathed and fully clothed was a good thing, because Rumplestiltskin's grandson met them on the stairs, bouncing with excitement over the fact that he'd learned Regina was back from Wonderland. Rumplestiltskin had to admire his son's deviousness in sending his own child after his father; they both knew that Rumplestiltskin wouldn't tease Henry the way he'd tease Bae, and neither would Belle.
"Never forget this valuable lesson, lad," Rumplestiltskin told his confused grandson. "Your father is far trickier than he wants people to believe he is."
"Doesn't that run in the family?" Henry countered.
Rumplestiltskin laughed, exchanging a glance with Belle. She was glowing happily, her hand wrapped in his, and he almost asked her to marry him on the spot, even if he was looking for a more private and more romantic moment. "Indeed it does, Henry. Indeed it does."
It was nice to be home, even if Emma hadn't missed the hustle and bustle of a royal castle that served as the administrative hub for two different kingdoms. In that respect, being at the Dark Castle had been a wonderful vacation; there weren't servants to trip over every five feet, and no one was there to watch her and judge how little Emma acted like a traditional princess. Oh, and there hadn't been those damned etiquette lessons her mother insisted she attend (with Neal, which did make Emma laugh so hard the three times he'd been trapped into going). Instead, she'd spent the last week learning some more magic—interesting things, this time, like how to create and counter curses and how to transform living creatures. Much to her surprise, Rumplestiltskin seemed to genuinely enjoy teaching, and actually seemed to, well, geek out more than a little bit over magic. Neal had started learning some of the basics, too, and the only bad part about that arrangement was that it made Henry start asking about when he could learn.
Fortunately, Rumplestiltskin was the one who put his foot down on that one, and it was hard to argue with the expert when he said that after puberty was absolutely not optional. Emma wasn't sure if she was ready to watch Henry learn magic, and she knew that Regina would kill her if she didn't talk to her about it before allowing him to even think about learning magic. Maybe Regina would want to teach Henry. She probably would, which meant that Emma was so not going to get in the middle of this. Sharing Henry was stressful enough without having something else to fight with his other mother about.
"Happy to be back?" Neal asked quietly from her side as Henry rushed up to greet Regina. Somehow, Emma had managed to put them down not too far from her parents and the Evil Queen, much to Henry's delight. She was still getting used to transporting groups of people—and Neal was nowhere near ready to do it, even just for himself—which meant there'd been a moment of dizziness after they landed, but at least she'd put them where she wanted to, and the swirl of white smoke had already dissipated.
"Yeah," she replied, taking a deep breath. "I think I am."
Rumplestiltskin and Belle appeared then, not too far off to the left and without so much as a hint of smoke. Show off. The bastard could have brought all five of them without breaking a sweat, but he'd told Emma that she needed the practice. Though apparently he didn't like being transported by other people, so Emma had only used her magic on Neal and Henry.
Neal gave her his signature crooked grin. "Good thing, because it looks like you're about to be attacked by your baby brother."
"I am not." Emma rolled her eyes, but her mother was approaching…with her arms full of a squealing child. Or, perhaps screaming bloody murder were better words to describe Graham, who seemed to be mortally offended by whatever it was Snow had just said to him. Her next words came in an undertone, intended for Neal's ears alone: "I am so not babysitting. Not again."
"This is where they tell you that's what big sisters are for."
"I don't care. Not babysitting."
Neal just snickered, and damn him if Emma hadn't heard those words a thousand times. Her parents had armies of servants, an entire kingdom of people they could get to look after Graham, but they always wanted her to do it. Emma had no doubt that there was an entire section in one of those parenting books her mother must have smuggled back from Storybrooke (come to think of it, Regina had probably given them to her) titled 'Making your older children look after their younger siblings'. The stupid books probably said it was good for character development or sibling bonding or something ridiculous like that. Those books don't take into account the fact that I'm my mother's age. She glared at Neal again—he was a convenient target, and besides, he was enjoying himself.
"Henry can babysit. Or Regina. That's perfect!" Emma grinned as the solution came to her. "Regina can do it. She's Graham's godmother."
"Judging from the look on Regina's face, she's enjoying your mother's suffering," Neal pointed out, and Emma had to admit that he had a point. When Regina wasn't busy melting over Henry, she really did seem to be quietly laughing at Snow's baby struggles.
Hell, Emma remembered feeling like that, even if she never had. For a moment, she wondered if the false memories of raising Henry that Regina had given her had been based on Regina's own experiences. If so, Emma felt a little bad for her son's other mother; Henry hadn't been easy to bring up, even in a past that didn't really exist. He'd been an impossibly stalwart child, able to cry for hours, and… Or maybe Regina was just having a joke at my expense, and she had an easy time with Henry. Emma wasn't sure if she was ever going to ask that question. Having two sets of memories could be so confusing sometimes. The ones that she knew were fake still felt real, particularly because of the year she and Henry had lived in New York, depending on no one but one another.
Emma stole another glance at Neal. She'd still been angry with him when she was in New York, but now Emma was able to admit that anger had stemmed from the fact that she'd never gotten over him or stopped loving him. She'd felt so damn abandoned when he let her go to jail. Neal had been the first person she'd really and wholly trusted in her life, and he'd walked away because Pinocchio told him to. And because he wanted to give me a chance to find my family. It didn't really matter if Neal's way of doing so had been more than a little messed up (did it never occur to the foolish man that he could have gone with her, and she would have loved to have him there?). He'd been scared, and he'd meant well, and Emma could forgive him for it. She had forgiven him, somehow, and Neal had never given her cause to regret that.
"Emma!" her mother's voice broke into her thoughts, louder than usual to be heard over Graham's complaints. "Welcome home!"
David hugged her since Snow's arms were full, and Emma felt an unrestrained smile cross her own face. "It's good to see you," her father said.
"Thanks," Emma replied. "It's good to be home."
She didn't miss the way her parents exchanged a pleased glance, but Emma hadn't said those words by accident. You don't have a home until you just miss it. Again, she found herself remembering a conversation with Neal back when they were both young and dumb kids, and Emma realized that this place, these people, really had become home to her. It was a bit insane sometimes, and other times her parents really did seem like they came straight out of a Disney movie, but she didn't care. This was home.
"So," Snow began brightly, still attempting to calm Graham. "Do you want to spend some quality time with your baby brother?"
Emma snorted. "Good try. Don't you have nursemaids for that?"
"He's your brother, Emma," Snow wheedled.
"No way. Did enough diaper changing last time we were here, thanks."
"We do have things we need to discuss with Emma…" David trailed off, and Emma threw her father a grateful glance. He grinned back, but only when Snow wasn't looking.
"Of course," Snow relented. Then a mischievous smile flashed across her face. "Baelfire?"
"Huh?" Emma's lover jumped, his eyes going as wide as an owl's. He'd been looking away, but Emma had a feeling that he'd heard every word and was trying to play dumb.
Snow's expression was all innocence. "Would you like to take Graham for a bit?"
"I think it's more that you don't want me to. I'm a disaster with kids under, uh, ten or so. Really, I am," Neal replied earnestly. Emma shot him a doubtful look, but he utterly ignored her. Sneaky bastard.
"Well, that could pose a future problem," David pointed out with raised eyebrows, startling Emma.
"Dad!" she yelped, the word coming out without any thought. David loved teasing her, and he was probably doing it again, but there were times she just wanted to hit him. It was odd how those moments made her more likely to call him 'Dad' than the ones she was comfortable in—but David was grinning at her again.
"What?" her father countered innocently. "All I was implying is that I'll bet Bae's going to wind up with younger siblings of his own before too long. Unless I miss my guess."
Neal groaned. "I don't even want to think about that, okay? Not after this morning."
Both of Emma's parents looked confused, so Emma clarified once she was done snickering. "Neal walked in on his Dad and Belle this morning."
David laughed; Snow looked ready to choke on something. Neal only went red and hung his head, shaking it repeatedly as if trying to clear the image away. Emma only grinned. Teasing him was so much fun, and Neal gave as good as he got, anyway.
"They had clothes on, thankfully," he grumbled, and the other three laughed.
"Let's go inside," David said, raising his voice so that the others could hear him.
Truth be told, Emma wasn't quite sure what her parents were going to do with Belle and Rumplestiltskin has house guests (castle guests?), but she supposed that Belle would make herself useful and Rumplestiltskin would do whatever the hell he wanted, just like he always did. Word of this Grand Council had reached the Dark Castle via messenger bird three days earlier, and Emma knew that Neal's father hadn't really wanted to come, but here he was…and a part of her was damn glad that he was there. Yeah, Rumplestiltskin could still drive her mad, but he was a damn good ally to have in your corner when push came to shove, and Emma had a feeling that some of her parents' fellow monarchs were going to make things difficult. Again. And that didn't even take into account the fact that the Blue Fairy was supposed to be coming to this fun fest, and no matter what she said, Emma knew that Blue still wanted Henry's heart.
No, she wasn't upset to have the wily old sorcerer along, even if it meant he'd try to teach her more magic. Or that he'd create trouble. Rumplestiltskin could be a jerk, but he was their jerk, and well, Emma had Neal along to talk sense into him when the former Dark One got too difficult. Neal, who walked alongside her as they headed inside, his shoulder brushing against hers as they listened to Henry pepper Regina with questions about Wonderland with a fond smile. How had they come this far? Emma didn't know when everything between them had gone from complicated to simple, but she wasn't arguing.
They arrived in groups, for the most part, these monarchs and world leaders, a self-important lot if there ever was one. Mix that up with fairies, sorcerers, and other magical beings, and it created a powder keg just waiting to go off. Someone was going to explode before very long, despite the ease at which Snow White greeted all and sundry, somehow smoothing down ruffled feathers with a gentle smile that did nothing to hide the steel in her spine. She and her charming co-consort somehow managed to keep anyone from erupting during the welcoming banquet, however, much to Rumplestiltskin's surprise. They'd also been absolutely brilliant enough to provide no seating arrangement at all, lest someone get offended by the seat they'd been offered somehow implying they were less important than someone else. In fact, there were no seats whatsoever, only small tables placed strategically around the ballroom, where people could gather or not with the food they'd picked up from the buffet.
The entire affair had a decidedly Land Without Magic flair to it, and Rumplestiltskin had to admit he was impressed. He still wasn't pleased to be there, of course, but he wasn't stupid enough to allow the power brokers to start this dance without him, which meant he had to attend. Interestingly enough, most of the royals seemed slightly more accepting of him now that he wasn't the Dark One—unless he counted the ones he already knew were against him, like Hubert, Leah, and the dethroned George who was walking around as if this was still his castle. But Midas, Francis, and even Eric's father were far less uncomfortable around Rumplestiltskin now, particularly since Tink had somehow finagled Ursula into rescuing Eric's little mermaid princess and Eric's kingdom was back on Snow and company's side.
Rapunzel still looked at him like he was the devil himself, but Rumplestiltskin imagined that the long-locked princess wouldn't understand that reference, so he hid his smile behind a glass of very expensive wine, wishing it was scotch. What in the world am I going to do when my spirits collection from Storybrooke runs out? he wondered to himself. Was there anywhere to get scotch in this world? Rumplestiltskin the spinner had never had much taste for any particular type of alcohol, but Mr. Gold had loved a good scotch, and that preference carried over even once he woke up. He'd learned enough about wines over the centuries to appreciate the good ones, but he really did prefer scotch.
"Something funny?" Belle asked quietly.
"Royals being self-important," he replied with a shrug, watching George have it out with Queen Leah. Apparently, although Leah didn't approve of the Charmings' alliance with Regina and Rumplestiltskin (or a host of other things they refused to do, like give away their territory for free), she didn't apparently didn't much care for arrogant dethroned monarchs, either.
"Be nice," she admonished him, and Rumplestiltskin smiled his most innocent smile.
"Yes, dear."
Belle swatted his arm lightly, but Rumplestiltskin saw amusement dancing in her blue eyes. "So," she asked lightly, "who are you going to try to intimidate first?"
"Now why would I go and do a thing like that? Intimidation is so…crass," he said, waggling his eyebrows at her. "Now, manipulation…that's more my style."
Belle's laugh would never cease to make his heart race, just a little. Yet when she looked at him like this, like he was the center of her world and she trusted him above all else, Rumplestiltskin felt both unworthy and so amazingly lucky. It made him want to kiss her here and now, right in front of the entire assemblage and not care who saw it or what they thought. But he knew better than to draw attention to himself in that manner; he was intentionally playing things low-key this evening, just watching instead of participating. His game had always been the long one, and tonight was no different.
"Intimidation or manipulation, I love you just the way you are," Belle said, yanking his attention back to the present as she came up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. A smile tugged at Rumplestiltskin's lips, and he wrapped his free arm around her, not caring who saw.
Besides, anyone watching the pair of them could be excused for thinking that Rumplestiltskin's entire attention was on the beautiful woman by his side, and he wasn't paying a bit of attention to the world around him. They wouldn't be far off the truth, but he wasn't completely distracted. Not entirely, anyway.
"And I love you," he replied softly, pressing his forehead against hers momentarily, letting his eyes slide shut. Once, back when he'd been the Dark One, being this close to Belle had actually had a detrimental effect on his magic, dampening it, tempering the darkness with something better. Now, however, his feelings for her only seemed to amplify his power.
Eyes closed or not, Rumplestiltskin could feel the competing powers swirling around the room, both magic and political. His allies had arrived as surely as the Grand Alliance's members had, with magic users quietly filling in the gaps between royals and watching events unfold. Regina'd hadn't brought Jafar—Rumplestiltskin still had yet to introduce himself to the genie he knew only by reputation and was content to let the man rot in his lamp for now—but there were plenty of others there. Iron John lurked near King Francis, whom he had apparently decided to take on as a personal project (given that John was from Francis' kingdom, Rumplestiltskin was not surprised, although it did make him feel a flicker of pity for Thomas' vacillating father; John was not the type to take to Danns' interference well at all). Lord Soulis chatted with the Lady of the Lake while a pair of rebellious fairies chatted off to the side, enduring glares from Blue's principle assistant, the obnoxious Cyan Fairy.
Interesting. Apparently Tink had another convert; the Indigo Fairy trotted over to join Tinker Bell and the Sugar Plum Fairy, looking quite happy to be in their company despite her superior's distaste. Rumplestiltskin suppressed another smile and shifted his focus elsewhere. Ali Baba lurked over near the buffet, flirting with Midas' younger daughter Creüsa. There were others, too, less powerful magic users who had come in the trains of the monarchs they supposedly served, but almost all of them answered to Rumplestiltskin in one way or another—or at least they did when it came to countering the power of the Black Fairy. And her sister, if it comes to that.
"You're distracted, again," Belle accused him playfully. She must have caught his eyes tracking around the room, picking out those he needed to watch.
Rumplestiltskin smiled. "Thinking."
"About what?"
Do it now, the unfamiliar voice of impulse said inside his mind, reckless and brave in ways he never was. But he had the ring in his pocket and even if this wasn't the romantic moment he'd originally wanted, waiting even longer would only make things worse. Despite what the butterflies going wild in his stomach insisted, the love shining in Belle's eyes told him that she felt the same way. Waiting for the perfect moment was just his cowardice looking for an excuse to avoid the possibility of rejection, whereas Rumplestiltskin knew Belle would not do that.
Still, old fears were hard to shake, and the habit of abandonment was almost impossible to break. Milah had walked out on him because he wasn't what she wanted. Cora had ripped her heart out because power was more important to her than he had been. But Belle was different. She'd always been different; it had just taken him so very long to actually realize that. So he smiled for her, warmth and love welling up inside him and making Rumplestiltskin bold.
"About you, actually," he replied softly, depositing his glass of wine on a tray held by a passing server so that he could take her hands in his own.
"Me?" Belle looked at him quizzically, but she knew him well enough to sense the change in him, the determination to be open and honest for once in his shadowy life.
"That shouldn't surprise you," Rumplestiltskin chided her, bringing her hands to his lips so he could kiss them. Belle blushed a little, but her smile was blinding him again. Just looking at her beautiful face made his heart skip a beat. "I will never understand why you continue to stand by me," he continued honestly, swallowing hard. "Despite everything I have been and everything I have done. I—"
"Rumple…" Belle cut him off. She hated listening to him say things like this, he knew, but Rumplestiltskin stopped her with a shake of his head.
"Let me finish?" If he didn't say it now, he never would. And a part of him wanted so badly to quit now; the coward inside him sensed a way out, but Rumplestiltskin forced himself to focus on the words he'd long been practicing.
Her smile was almost sad. "I'm sorry. Of course."
"I know I'm not the best of men, Belle. Even with my curse broken, I will never be the kind of man you deserve. I know that, and I know that I could never hope to give you anything equal to what you give me. But I will try. If you'll let—"
"Rumplestiltskin!" a cheerful voice interrupted. "There you are."
Irritation swelled up in him so furiously that Rumplestiltskin almost reached out with dark magic to crush the offending interloper, but he managed to stop himself just in time, turning to bestow a truly exasperated glare on and entirely too innocent looking King David.
"Yes, I am exactly where I have been for quite some time," he snapped. "What can I do for you, dearie?"
Charming blinked, clearly surprised by the unexpected hostility. "I was wondering if you—and Belle, of course—might join us in the war room for a few minutes."
"We'd be happy to," Belle replied quickly, squeezing Rumplestiltskin's hand as she obviously sensed his continued annoyance. When he glanced her way, her eyes were pleading with him to be nice to the Charmings, even if the king in question was close to driving him mad.
"Of course we would," Rumplestiltskin grumbled, taking a few steps along with Belle before he stopped mutinously. "In a moment."
"Rumple…" Belle began as Charming tried to object:
"It'll only take a few minutes."
He shot the king another dark look and let a hard edge creep into his voice that he knew no one would argue with, monarch or no, ally or not. "In a moment, I said."
"Of course," Charming replied graciously.
The king was obviously as aware as Rumplestiltskin was that every eye in the ballroom was beginning to turn their way; the more important people were, the more they liked gossip, and any sort of conflict was grist for the rumor mill, and a potential weakness to exploit besides. But Rumplestiltskin was too annoyed to care. He'd scraped up his courage one too many times to back down now. He'd had it with being interrupted, and had damn well given up on finding the perfect moment. This was the moment he'd chosen, and the Charmings, the war, and the rest of the world could wait. Circumstances be damned; Rumplestiltskin was going to do this. Charming started to back away as Rumplestiltskin turned back to face Belle.
"Sweetheart," he started, his nerves suddenly trying to go haywire and making him want to hesitate, but annoyance and determination won out and Rumplestiltskin smiled wryly. "This is hardly the time or place to ask you this, but the world seems to be conspiring to stop me, and I am done playing nice. I love you, and I will always love you."
Taking a deep breath, a tiny corner of Rumplestiltskin's half-terrified mind noticed the way Belle's eyes were beginning to shine, so he took the plunge. Surprisingly enough, the world did not end before he managed to say the words:
"Will you marry me?"
"Yes." Belle was in his arms and kissing him almost before Rumplestiltskin knew what was happening. "Of course I will!"
Damn them all. He didn't care who was watching. Rumplestiltskin just wrapped his arms around her and kissed Belle back, vaguely aware of the fact that Charming's expression had gone from mortified to delighted and he was now saying something in his damnably enthusiastic way. But Rumplestiltskin didn't hear a word of it. His entire focus boiled down to the beautiful woman in his arms and True Love singing through his veins. She'd said yes. Belle had said yes. All his fears melted into nothing, and Rumplestiltskin could not remember when he had ever been so happy.
"I thought you'd never ask," Belle admitted softly, but the smile tugging on her lips kept any sting out of the words.
"I kept trying," he grumbled, but his anger over being interrupted had flown out the window; he'd asked, and she'd said yes. Rumplestiltskin was fairly certain he could walk on water right now, and without the aid of magic.
"How many times?" she asked, their faces still so close they were almost touching, amusement filling her blue eyes.
"It all depends on if you count the times something else came up before I could start asking, but at least three," Rumplestiltskin said.
"Oh, Rumple." She kissed him again, but he pulled back after a moment, summoning the ring into his hand and holding it up for Belle to see.
"May I?"
"It's beautiful," Belle breathed, her eyes going wide. Rumplestiltskin felt a shy smile crossing his face; he'd worried time and time again that she wouldn't like it, that he should get her something more traditional, but the star sapphires really did match the shade of blue in her eyes perfectly. Belle shivered as he slipped the ring on her finger, their bodies still close and neither paying any attention to the world around them. "It's…magic?"
"My magic," Rumplestiltskin replied with a nod. "Designed to keep you safe from anyone and anything. Even me."
"You would never hurt me."
He shrugged slightly. "I started it when I was still the Dark One."
"It's perfect," Belle told him, kissing him once more.
Perhaps someday Rumplestiltskin would tell her that he'd made the ring. Belle hadn't caught what he'd meant before, probably thinking that he was referring to when he'd began crafting the protective spells on the ring, and not the ring itself. It didn't matter. What mattered was that Belle had agreed to become his wife, and nothing could ruin this moment.
A/N: My apologies for the late update—I was down sick yesterday and didn't even look at the computer. In the meantime, stay tuned for Chapter 49: "Live in the Moment," where Emma does the unexpected and Henry's status is explored.