Chapter 3: Under the Stars

Rumplestiltskin rose early, eager to start the day. He skipped eating his morning meal again, something he knew he would regret later that day. After he dressed he wrapped up a bit of bread and cheese in some cloth and stuck it in his basket, then stepped out into the pale light of morning to make his way to the sheep farmer.

It was several miles to the farm, and normally Rumplestiltskin took his time, enjoying the solitude and silence as he walked the beaten path toward his destination. Today however, his steps were quick as he wanted nothing more than to return home. Thoughts of an evening with Belle blurred out all else.

How happy he was to know that he would be spending time with her, and of her own volition! He could hardly believe it himself, and he allowed his cheerful mood to settle around him like his cloak. He felt warm and content and not even the chill of the morning air could bother him. He began to whistle a merry tune as he walked to the famer's land.

When he arrived a strong and sturdy lad by the name of Hagan greeted him. "Good morrow, Rumplestiltskin," the man greeted, and Rumplestiltskin took a moment to assess the man. He seemed in a pleasant mood, and so Rumple decided he might be able to get a good deal.

"Good morrow," he replied with a nod. Hagan regarded him for a moment then motioned for Rumplestiltskin to follow him.

"Yer after more of my wool, eh?" Hagan stated with a slight, harsh laugh and Rumplestiltskin nodded firmly.

"Yes, sir. It's fine quality; best I've ever worked with." He hoped the compliment would set Hagan in even better spirits.

"Don't be kissin' my boot, now," Hagan said gruffly. "Let's see how much you have and I'll ensure you get a good deal. I'm feelin' generous today."

"Well, the festival is tonight," Rumplestiltskin declared and Hagan guffawed.

"You ever see me at that festival?" He asked boisterously. "I ain't in the way of socializin' with my customers. 'Sides, the missus is with child again, so I'll be dealin' with her after I'm finished with the flock."

Hagan's wife, a petite thing not much older than Belle, remained pregnant, or so it seemed to Rumplestiltskin. This would make their seventh child in as many years, but Rumplestiltskin knew there was pride in having sons to take over the trade.

"Congratulations," Rumplestiltskin acknowledged genuinely. "I'm sure you're quite proud."

"I'll be proud if she can give me a boy," he commented gruffly. "Damn woman's given me girls so far and what in the god's names am I supposed to do with 'em? Gotta come up with a dowry for 'em and that'll be a pain right there. Sons is the way to go, if you ask me."

Rumplestiltskin didn't agree, but he didn't want to insult the man who him the wool he spun, so he claimed he felt the same and took his goods. He paid the farmer for his troubles, lamenting the loss of the silver coin but grateful for the thirteen shillings that were left from it. Pocketing his change, he turned to make his way back home.

He stopped when he was halfway home and sat a few paces off the path, enjoying his bread and cheese. It was near midday, and the sun was now beating down upon him without mercy. He wiped the sweat off his brow and sighed as he swallowed the last of his small lunch. He would need to hurry if he wanted to get home in time to finish his chores before he spent his evening with the lovely Belle.

With her on his mind again, he grabbed his basket and rushed home as quickly as he could. The basket was heavy, but he hardly noticed. The thought of Belle made him feel nothing but joy.

He made it back to his shack and placed the basket of wool next to his spinning wheel. He would need to prepare the wool and lanolin before he could begin spinning the batch, so he set to work, preparing enough wool to last him several days. He had other things to do today, and he did not want to get caught up in his work.

He worked hard, preparing the sheep's wool to be spun. Finally he stopped, looking up to get an idea of the time. When he realized where the sun was positioned, he cursed and began cleaning up his mess. Once everything was put away and tidied, he grabbed a wooden bucket and rushed down to the creek. He dipped the bucket into the water, and pulled it back up, water splashing him as he did so. He made his way back to his shack, slowed down by the weight of the water. When he arrived he poured some into a clay pitcher to save, and then poured the rest into the small black kettle over the fireplace. He lit the logs, waited for the water to heat, and then stripped himself of his clothing. Then he grabbed one of the few clean rags he had and dipped it into the water and began to scrub himself clean.

He had no soap - it was a luxury he could not often afford, but he scrubbed himself raw, hoping that some of the smell from the past couple days would wash off. He did not want to smell unpleasant in front of Belle, and he was sure that when she had visited him yesterday he had done just that.

He rang the rag over his head, allowing the water to wet his hair, which instantly made him feel better, and he grabbed a towel and began to dry off, rubbing it over his hair first. When he was dry, he went to the small chest he had beside his bed and pulled out a second shirt - the only other one to his name - and pulled it over his head. He pulled his pants and shoes back on and took the other shirt and dipped it in the kettle. He rang it out, then took it outside to hang on the small line he had put up for the infrequent occasion when he washed his clothing.

Deciding that would have to do, he returned to his house and sat down to wait. Then he began to fret. He hadn't asked if she would meet him here, or if he should collect her from her father's house. Would they meet at the festival? He did not know and now he wasn't sure what to do.

He sat and waited for some time, idly playing with the tufts of sheep's wool. He fingered the softness, enjoying the feel and decided that he would own his own sheep one day. It would be a wonderful investment, he knew, but until he could afford to buy a sheep and have enough money to care for it as well as himself, he knew he could not do it. He was determined however, and something in him stirred at the thought of becoming more successful. He knew riches were just a dream, but he could make a decent living for himself, if he truly applied himself. He may have to eat scraps for a time, but if he could purchase a sheep and have his own wool he felt maybe he would be worth Belle's interest. Now he was just a poor spinner with hardly anything to show for the long hours he put in, and he had no idea how the beautiful Belle had even noticed his existence.

The festival was about to start; he could hear music playing lightly and children screaming and running. He could even smell food and his mouth watered at the thought of having a juicy piece of lamb's leg or some salted ham. His stomach rumbling, he grabbed the clay cup that held his meager savings and dug out a couple shillings. One last splurge before he buckled down and began truly saving up for a sheep, he decided. He would enjoy the night with Belle, then he would settle down and get to work. He was glad for the motivation. He'd lacked it for some time, the knowledge that he would never amount to anything a weight that seemed to prevent him from truly putting himself into his work.

Belle made him feel light. She made him want to do something; to be someone.

He pocketed his coins, then hastily checked that his pants did not have holes in them where the coins could fall out. That would be truly embarrassing, losing his money in such a careless manner. When he was satisfied that his money would not escape him, he grabbed his cloak and left his home, intent on finding Belle. She wanted to spend time with him, and he was going to ensure that she did.

He ventured through the crowd, keeping his eyes open for any sign of her. When he did not see her, he made his way toward her home, hoping that she was there. The last thing he wanted to do was spend the entire evening searching for her. As he walked, he realized that he had no token to give her. If he wanted to do this properly, he should have something to give her, but what? He looked around, wondering if he should sacrifice some coin and buy her a small trinket when his eyes fell on the field behind the market where wild flowers grew. There were lovely shades of pinks, reds, and purples; and Rumplestiltskin knew that they would be perfect for her. He strode past some of the stalls where men and women were calling out to him to sample and purchase their goods, but he ignored them and began scanning the field for the finest flowers of the bunch. He picked a small handful, enough to show the variety of types and colors but not enough that she would have to awkwardly carry them the entire night. He dug into his pocket and pulled out the small leather strap that he sometimes used to tie back his long hair when he was hard at work and tied the bunch together. It wasn't ideal, but it would do.

He turned back and walked for a few minutes toward her home near the middle of the village. It was not a fine house, but it was better than his. It was bigger, though not by much; and Rumple was again reminded of just how little he would be able to provide for her, should he ever gain enough courage to ask for her hand.

He came near the door, but before he could reach it, the door opened and Belle swept out, calling out a farewell to her father. She turned and started to see Rumplestiltksin standing there, the small bouquet clutched tightly in his grasp.

"You startled me!" She said with a laugh as she took a step toward him. He swallowed nervously and held out his hand, offering her the flowers.

"Um, here. If you'll have them," he said in a shaking voice. She smiled and took the flowers from him, holding them gently.

"Why, thank you," she said as she giggled and dipped into a small curtsey. Rumplestiltskin bowed slightly, her lightheartedness making him feel warm and relaxed. He had worried so much about what she would think that he hadn't taken the time to consider that she would actually like his efforts at chivalry.

"I'm going to put these in some water," she said as she turned to go back inside. "I'll only be a moment."

He nodded and waited for her to return. He could hear her fumbling about inside, followed by a masculine grumble and light laughter. She returned, clutching a shawl that she had not had before and he noticed she now wore one of the pretty pink flowers in her hair. Rumple felt himself swell with pride, knowing that the flowers had pleased her. The flower in her hair was lovely, and he took it as a sign that she intended to remain close to him throughout the evening.

He offered her his arm, proud that he remembered to do so and she took it gladly. "Shall we?" He asked as he led her away from her home and toward the bustle of people that were enjoying the celebration.

They walked together for some time, and Rumplestiltskin allowed her to visit the booths that caught her eye, as he stood silently by her side as she looked at trinkets and talked to the vendors happily. He enjoyed watching her, clearly in her element. She was a social person and seemed to enjoy being around others. There was hardly a person she met that she did not at least bid good evening to, and he felt privileged that she had chosen to give him the special treat of being her solitary companion for the evening. Several young men approached her and spoke to her, often taking her hand and kissing it. Rumple would scowl at them, but to these young men he seemed invisible until Belle declined their offers to go with them. She looped her arm through Rumplestiltskin's, saying that she was quite happy with the company she was keeping.

The young men seemed downtrodden, but she offered them a smile and a polite nod, and it seemed enough to appease them for the time. Rumplestiltskin wondered why she did not go with some of them, especially the tall, brawny lad who towered over them both and was clearly one of the wealthier members of the village. But just as she had done with the other lads, she politely dismissed him, claiming Rumplestiltskin owed her a dance. She vowed she was not going to let go of him until he'd made good on his word.

"You did agree to dance with me," she reminded him as the tall lad stalked away from them.

He remembered. He knew how to dance, though he had not done so in many years. He hoped he would remember the steps and not make a fool out of himself – or embarrass Belle.

"I did," he agreed. "And I will."

She smiled. "Good."

The dancing began after night fell, when enough ale and sweet wine had been consumed to loosen the limbs and tongues of even the most stoic of residents. The musicians of the town, a group of about ten people playing a variety of instruments, played lighthearted songs. Children and adults alike danced around the large fire that had been set to provide light and warmth for those who wished to stay out deep into the night. Belle and Rumple were sat the fire, sharing a leg of lamb and some sweet wine. They took turns biting into the tender and seasoned meat. It was delicious, and Rumplstiltskin was glad to share another meal with Belle. He would gladly share all his meals with her if it meant she would be by his side.

They finished the leg, and Rumplestiltskin threw the bone into the fire, which caused the fire to crack and pop. Belle finished her small cup and waited for Rumplestiltskin to do the same. She stood, letting he shawl slide to the ground and grabbed his hand. "Let's dance!" She exclaimed as she pulled on his hand to tug him up off the grass.

The music changed as he stood and Belle smiled brightly. "I love this dance," she informed him. "Do you know it?"

He did, though he informed her that he may not be very good. She shrugged her shoulders and pulled his hand again, half dragging him into the dancing line. He kept an eye on the men beside him in an effort to remember the steps, and before long he was bouncing and skipping and twirling Belle around the fire, laughing as he went. The steps were simple enough and though he hadn't participated in the dancing in a long time, he fell easily into it, grasping Belle's hands at the proper moment and spinning her about. She laughed gaily throughout the entire set, and her joy was contagious. Rumplestiltskin laughed as well, and when the music stopped abruptly, they crashed into each other, laughing as she wound her arm around his waist to keep her upright.

"How fun!" She said, her eyes sparkling as brightly as the stars above them.

He was hot, sweating, and out of breath, but he couldn't agree more.

The music changed again, but this dance seemed to hold little interest to Belle. With a tilt of her head, she motioned for him to follow her away from the crowd. He took a step then paused and turned back to retrieve her shawl, then raced to catch up with her. She wrapped her arm around his and led them away from the crowd and toward the woods. With each step, the boisterous sounds from the people celebrating faded, and he realized quickly that he and Belle were very much alone.

They walked until they came to a clearing, and Belle released his arm to move ahead. She stood and tilted her head up and Rumplestiltskin's gaze followed hers toward the sky. It was much darker away from the torches and large fires from the festival, and the stars glittered and twinkled happily from their seats in the sky. Rumplestiltksin moved to stand next to her, and together they watched the stars for a long, silent moment.

Without looking at him, Belle spoke, "I love to come look at the stars. They're so beautiful."

"You're much lovelier."

He hadn't meant to say the words and he froze as his eyes widened at his mistake. He cursed himself but tried to remain placid, hoping she would forgive him for speaking so boldly.

"Do you really think so?"

He glanced down then, and was startled to see her looking at him with such innocent hope that he could not stop himself from assuring her. He turned to face her and whispered, "You are by far the most beautiful woman I've ever met. The stars are nothing compared to you."

Even in the darkness, he could see her blush. Emboldened, whether from the rush of dancing with her, the wine, or the cover of night, he felt himself ready to tell her how much he cared about her and the consequences be damned.

He opened his mouth to speak, but she spoke first. "I-", she faltered. "Thank you, Rumplestiltskin," she whispered softly. "I'm glad you think I'm beautiful."

"You aren't just beautiful," he said hurriedly, wanting to separate himself from the fools that would only ever appreciate that part of her. "You are kind and smart. You're patient and hard-working and sweet. You're…wonderful." She smiled up at him as if she'd never heard the words before. If he had his way, he would tell her everyday how perfect she was.

"I'm pleased you agreed to spend the evening with me," she said after some time, her voice soft and almost shy.

"I'm pleased you actually seemed to enjoy an evening in my company."

"Of course I enjoyed your company," she declared. "I'd like to spend more time in your company, if you'd be all right with that."

"How could I be anything but all right?" He asked her earnestly. "You could have your choice of men to spend your time with, yet you ask me. I don't understand it, but I certainly won't complain."

"It's because I like you, you silly man," she stated plainly, as if it were a fact he should have long ago been aware of.

He stared at her, eyes growing wide. "You do?" He asked, unable to believe he'd heard her correctly. Even if she replied that she thought of him as a kind friend, it would be enough. Some small part of her heart belonged to him now; and even if it was all she ever gave him, it was more than he'd ever had before and he would cherish it deeply.

Instead of responding as he expected, Belle leaned up, resting her hands on his forearms and pressed her lips against his cheek in a gentle kiss. After resting there a moment she moved away, still blushing and smiling shyly.

He stood still, staring at her in surprise. Belle had kissed him. Belle had kissed him! He touched his hand to the place where his cheek burned with the memory of her touch and a small breath escape him at the thought of what just happened. He felt his lips twitch, the beginning of a smile forming and he could see Belle's relief that she hadn't offended him with her forwardness.

As if any man in his right mind would be offended that such a beautiful creature had chosen to kiss him.

He couldn't speak, unable to form a thought coherent enough to turn into words. She continued to watch him and after a moment she giggled, clearly pleased at the affect she had on him.

"I do," she said after some time, "Like you. Very much."

"Oh, Belle," he breathed, unable to contain the fervor that was growing inside him. He had worried so much about whether or not he would be able to gain her affection that he had not thought about what to do once he had it. It had seemed like such an impossible dream; things like this didn't happen to him. That gave him pause.

"You know my reputation," he said suddenly, full of shame. "You must know what the village thinks of me. I'm the son of a coward; an outcast. I have nothing of value."

"I know your reputation," she agreed. "But I also know that Ebert hits his wife when he takes to the bottle and I know that Magdalene, the baker's wife is sleeping with men who are not her husband. I know that my reputation is that I'm a strange, bookish girl who doesn't know her place." She reached out and rested her hand against his arm again.

"We all have reputations, Rumplestiltksin. Some are known by the whole village; some aren't. But I also know that Ebert, vile man that he is, sells fine goods and that Magdalene is just as good a baker as her husband. You think I'm beautiful and I think you're a good man who is more valuable than he realizes. We're all more than our reputations."

He took in her words, pushing aside his surprise that the baker's wife was unfaithful and his lack of surprise that Ebert was abusive. He had heard that Belle was strange – most women spent days cooking and cleaning and birthing sons. They didn't read books and help in legal matters. But even with those whispers in the air, many still agreed that Belle was quite lovely.

And that made her speech true. They were more than what the villagers said about them. She wasn't just bookish and lovely. He wasn't just an outcast. If she wanted to associate with him, he'd be an absolute fool to stop her.

But even still, there was one person whose opinion did matter.

"What of your father?" Rumplestiltskin asked. "Would he not disapprove?"

She shook her head. "Even if he does, it's my choice."

He smiled at her and she returned the gesture. After a moment she asked, "Perhaps I could teach you to read? It would benefit you tremendously. And it would be an excuse to spend time together." She paused and blushed. "If you want to learn, that is. I really am forward, aren't I?"

He laughed. "So long as you're there, I'll let you teach me to braid flowers into your hair, if you like."

She giggled and took a step closer to him. Tilting her head up, she whispered, "May I?" And he knew what she wanted.

He shook his head. "No. I think I would like to return the favor instead. If you'll permit me, that is," he added on quickly.

Her eyes sparkled and she tilted her head to the side, offering her cheek to him. He leaned down and pressed his lips gently against her skin, biting back a sigh as his dry lips touched the sweet softness of her cheek. She truly was perfection.

She shivered, and though he was unsure if it was from his kiss or the coolness of the night air, he took the shawl he still had draped over his arm and wrapped it around her shoulders. She pulled it closer and smiled up at him in thanks.

"We should probably return," he said after a moment.

He had no desire to leave, but he knew it was for the best. "Yes," she said. "We probably should." She waited a moment then asked, "Could I come tomorrow to begin teaching you?" She asked quietly and he found himself nodding.

"Absolutely," he said. "I would like nothing more than to see you. And to learn too. Of course."

She smiled affectionately and wrapped her arm around his. Leaning her head on his shoulder, they waked back to the village together as Belle told him all about how wonderful it was to be able to read.

Author's Notes:

Hope you enjoyed!

Thank you for your comments, follows, and favorites! Each notice I get always brings a smile to my face.

Chapter 4 will be up November 8!

Please see disclaimer in both chapters 1 and 2.