Chapter 8: Alterations

"You can't be serious."

Rumplestiltskin stared at Belle with horror. She had caught him in the midst of preparing a bundle of wool to be spun, and he'd dropped everything to devote his attention to her. He'd known something was wrong when he saw the look in her eyes but he had never expected her to suggest something so outrageous.

"I am perfectly serious, Rumple."

And she was. Rumplestiltskin had never seen her so resolved or so stern. She'd told him what her father had said; people had been making comments about them; their relationship, the incident with Wilmar, and the fact that they ignored propriety. The last one was entirely foolish, as Rumple had been sure to be very careful, but he knew that people would believe what they wanted.

"We won't do it if you are against it," she conceded at length, kneeling at his feet and clasping his hands in hers, "But Papa supports it. It's not really an elopement. We're just…getting married without all the pomp and circumstance."

He regarded her for a long while. This would be the perfect solution, really. He did not want a lot of people present, and he wanted to wed her as soon as possible. They could be husband and wife within a week, if he agreed to this. But perhaps there was another issue that should be addressed first.

With a sigh, Rumple spoke. "Maybe this is just proof that I'm not a wise choice."

Belle tilted her head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"Isn't it obvious?" He asked her, barring his teeth in frustration. "The only thing that is going to come from our marriage is you getting hurt. You're binding yourself to the son of a coward. My father's legacy overshadows my own, and I'm looked at with nothing but disdain. Perhaps the people are right when they say you could do better than me. All I'm going to end up giving you is pain."

Her fingers twitched, itching to reach up and slap some sense into him. She refused to let the impulse take her and she swallowed her anger. "You'll cause me pain if you don't marry me," she argued, "Who cares what others think of us? I have my father's blessing, and I know you love me. Why should anything else matter? Why should we live our lives according to how other's think we should? I told you at the summer festival that we're more than our reputations and I don't care what your father did. I'm not in love with him. I'm in love with you."

His lifted his hand to her cheek and brushed his fingers gently against her skin. "You really want to marry me." He spoke softly, the comment more for his own assurance.

"I also really want my blue dress."

He blinked, confused, and then laughed heartily when he saw Belle's cheeky grin. Her ability to lighten his mood was a special gift indeed, and he bent over to kiss her cheek in thanks. "Marry me and it's yours."

She squeezed his hand. "Deal."

~000~

They decided to marry a week from that day. Maurice had been agreeable to the date and had begun making arrangements with the clerics to perform the ceremony. They made no announcement that the original wedding was canceled or changed. Instead they decided to hold the ceremony in the late afternoon where people would be able to see Belle enter the chapel dressed in her wedding finery. It was quite the insult to the people, but none of them felt any remorse over it. Instead, Maurice enjoyed his time with his daughter, and Belle and Rumple enjoyed what time was left of their betrothal. There was nothing left to plan, save for Belle picking some flowers the morning of her wedding for her bouquet.

Time passed far too slowly in Rumplestiltskin's opinion. He did his best to focus on his work to make the time go on, but no matter how much work he managed to accomplish, the days seemed to drag. He began preparing his home for its newest occupant, tidying as much as he could and moving his things around to ensure Belle had space for what she brought with her. Neither of them had much, but his home was not a large one; and he wanted to ensure the space was used properly. He'd learned from the spinsters who cared for him that one could make even the smallest of spaces into a comfortable and satisfactory home. He hoped this place would satisfy Belle.

While he kept busy, so did Belle. She packed her few belongings away and ensuring her father knew where everything was in his own home. She'd been the one to take care of the domestic affairs in their home, and she suspected he would not be able to find anything after her departure. She made lists indicating all that they had and instructions on how to various tasks, such as how to prepare tea. It was a task he had delegated to her several years ago. When she handed him the papers he glanced over them quickly before putting them aside and gathering Belle in his arms, weeping over the loss of his daughter. Belle was not used to seeing such a display from her father, but she held him and comforted him, reminding him that she would not be far away and would visit often.

"I know," Maurice said, wiping at his nose with his sleeve, "I just wish I could scare that boy off and keep you with me always," he said sorrowfully. "It doesn't seem right that my little girl is old enough to marry. I want to keep you as the child that I used to read to before bed time."

Belle rubbed her father's back in an effort to comfort him. "I'll always be your daughter, Papa," she said softly, "And I promise, when I get mad at Rumple, I'll come straight here and let you take care of me just like old times." She giggled, and it caused Maurice to chuckle as well. He squeezed her one last time then stepped back, regarding her with pride.

Gods know I didn't deserve a child like you, and it was through no work of my own, but you have truly become an incredible woman."

Belle smiled, her eyes shining with tears; she hugged her father once more before instructing him to read her notes so that he could survive when she left.

~000~

The day before the wedding came and Rumplestiltskin was in a panic. Nerves about the ceremony and excitement for the future that lay before him caused his hands to shake as he spun. He cursed loudly and frequently when all he accomplished was causing his work to tangle. Tossing everything aside, he stood and decided to be productive some other way. He began to sweep, though the floor had been swept at least ten times in the past several days, but he needed to occupy himself. He swept every corner, then swept again. By the time he was finished the shack was spotless. He leaned against the broom handle with satisfaction. Belle would be pleased to enter her new home and find it looking immaculate. She would no doubt be impressed. The place was mostly bare, and there was hardly anything of any real color or decoration. But a woman would soon reside here and the room would be brightened with flowers, colorful linens, and a woman's touch.

A knock on the door brought him out of his thoughts and he answered it, surprised to see Maurice standing there, looking slightly frazzled. Concerned, Rumplestiltskin asked, "What's the matter?"

"It's Belle," Maurice said quickly. "She's upset and crying and I don't know what to do."

Maurice looked helpless as though he had no idea how to make things better, so Rumple threw down his broom and grabbed his cloak. "Where is she?" He asked.

Maurice took off in the direction of his home and turned to motion Rumplestiltskin to follow him. "Come on." Rumplestiltskin followed, worrying about what could have happened to Belle that left even Maurice stunned. Perhaps she'd overheard someone make more hateful comments? Perhaps she was having second thoughts about the wedding or even wished to go back to their original plan to marry before winter. Whatever the cause, Rumplestiltskin vowed to make it right. No matter what it took, he would see that his Belle was cared for. Whatever the reason though, Belle was not one to cry easily and if she had been so inconsolable that her father had to come rushing for his help must have been terrible indeed.

They reached the house, and Maurice stood aside to allow Rumplestiltskin to approach the divider that kept her small room closed off from the view of the main room. He called out gently, "Belle?"

He heard a sniffle followed by a hiccup but she said nothing. Growing even more concerned, Rumplestiltskin put his hand up to the fabric that separated them. "If you don't answer, I'm going to come in."

"Come in, then."

He breathed a sigh of relief to know that she was going to allow him entrance into her private room. He glanced back at Maurice, who motioned for him to go inside, then brushed back the curtain he walked though. And immediately slapped his hand over his eyes. He'd only seen her for a moment, but he knew exactly what she was wearing.

"Belle!" He exclaimed, "I'm not to see you in your wedding dress before the wedding!"

He could feel her roll her eyes. Whatever her problem was, his concern for an old superstition was irrelevant.

"It doesn't fit," she whispered, and he'd never heard her sound so small and defeated.

He removed his hands and opened his eyes, trying his best not to gape as he took in the sight before him. The dress was beautiful and finely crafted; it was old, but still in excellent shape. It was after he'd taken in the finery of the gown and how lovely his bride looked in it that he realized she was clutching it to her chest wth a deep frown set on her features.

"I can see that," he said with a chuckle. He stepped forward, relief filling him. Now that he was closer to her, he could see she was still crying. Her cheeks were stained and her eyes were puffy, but he'd never thought she looked so beautiful. "It's nothing to cry over, sweetheart," he assured her as he ran his hands over her arms, careful not to move the fabric too much. "We can bring it in."

The tears came again, full force. She pressed herself against him, hugging him tightly.

"You can fix it?" She asked, sounding amazed as if he'd just told her he could turn the fabric into gold. He'd never seen her look so pitiful, and he loved her all the more for it. He loved Belle for her bravery and intellect, but it was also a comfort to see her behave in such a way. It pleased him to know that despite all he lacked, he could still do something for her.

"If your father doesn't mind, I'll go get my things and come back here and get you all fixed up."

She grinned through her tears and wrapped her arms around him, squeezing his neck tightly. "Thank you so much!" She exclaimed.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead to soothe her and stepped out of the room to see Maurice standing there anxiously. "Is she all right?" He asked, worried for his daughter.

Rumplestiltskin offered his a reassuring smile. "The dress is too big for her. She needs me to fix it," He explained.

Maurice let out a relieved laugh. "That's all!" He exclaimed, "Oh, thank the gods it wasn't anything serious!"

"With your permission, may I gather my things and mend it for her?"

Maurice nodded. "If it will make her feel better, then by all means," he said, waving his hand in dismissal.

Rumplestiltskin left and rushed back to his home to gather his sewing kit. He was relieved that Belle's emergency was something so easily fixable. There was no doubt she was anxious about their upcoming nuptials. He was anxious himself.

Rumplestiltskin walked into his home, taking a deep breath as he did. This time tomorrow he would be preparing for his wedding. In a little over a day he would be escorting his bride over the threshold. A shiver of excitement rushed through him, and he hurried to gather his things. The sooner he got back to Belle, the sooner he could repair her dress. And the sooner they would be wed. He grabbed his kit, as well as some extra items just in case. He knew he would not need everything, but he felt it best to be over prepared.

When he reached Belle's home he entered without knocking. Maurice looked up from his work and greeted him with a nod. Rumple nodded in return and said simply, "This may take a while."

Maurice nodded once more and replied, "Make my daughter happy. And if that takes all night, so be it."

Rumplestiltskin turned and slipped into the small room where Belle waited, clutching the dress to her, tugging at it and maneuvering the fabric in frustration. Rumplestiltskin offered her a small smile and her face brightened in relief. He deposited his belongings on the table and picked up one of the many candles scattered throughout the room. He approached Belle and said, "Let go of the dress. Place your arms at your sides."

She gave him a quizzical look and he explained, "I have to see how it sits on you."

Nodding, she let go of the fabric and dropped her arms to the side. The sleeves of the dress were large, puffy things that sat oddly on her shoulders. The bodice of the dress hung loosely on her chest, and it was clear that Belle's mother had been much fuller than Belle was.

Humming to himself, Rumple stuck some pins in his mouth and twirled his finger in a circular motion, instructing her to turn. She did, and he observed the back. The train was a fine length, and the hem of the dress sat barely an inch from the ground. He would not have to hem the dress, for which he was grateful. He stepped forward, tugging and pulling at the dress, doing his best to be gentle, and inserted pins in the places he needed to bring in. It took him over half an hour to get the dress pinned the way he needed it, and he stepped around to let Belle untie the laces.

Keeping his back turned, and shutting his eyes for good measure, he instructed her to slip out of the dress. He could hear the rustling of fabric and the occasional soft 'ouch!" as Belle got her fingers caught on the pins. Finally, she cleared her throat and he turned slowly, blinking in surprise to see her in her shift and a dressing gown. His shock must have been obvious because she blushed and shrugged, "This is the easiest thing to change in and out of. And besides, this shall be normal after tomorrow."

His cheeks burned, and he nodded. She was right. After tomorrow seeing her in a nightgown would not be such a scandalous thing. Rumplestiltskin only hoped her father would not enter the room and object. Trying to keep his thoughts away from that and from the delight he felt at seeing Belle in such a state, he busied himself with the dress, laying out on the table and straightening it out. He dug through his kit and pulled out some sheers and a needle and thread. Belle moved closer to observe, bringing a couple candles with her to give him more light to see by.

Rumple settled down to work, and Belle sat across from him, watching with intent interest. He worked for a long while as Belle watched on in silence. Several hours passed, and Rumplestiltskin sighed. Sewing, especially altering was a slow process and it seemed to Rumple he would never finish. As he worked, Belle sat devotedly across from him, watching every flick of his wrist and twist of the needle. Eventually she began to ask questions about his work and he took delight in answering her curiosity. At length she grew quiet and they relaxed into a companionable silence.

The hour grew late, and Rumple blinked then rubbed at his eyes wearily. He refused to stop, afraid he would fall asleep if he allowed his hands to stop moving. At length his hand began to cramp and he was forced to stop. He stretched his hand out, shaking it as well in order to relieve the pain. Belle reached out and took his hand in hers, lightly massaging it. Rumplestiltskin sighed in relief as he watched her fingers move over his skin and she flushed when their eyes met. After a few minutes he gently removed his hand from hers and with a soft 'thank you' he picked up the needle and returned to his work.

"I wanted to be pretty for you," she said suddenly, breaking the long, peaceful silence that had fallen between them. "I know it's foolish; but I just wanted you to think I was pretty."

Rumplestiltskin dropped the needle he was holding and reached out for her hand. "You are more than pretty," he declared. He rose and sank to his knees before her. "You are perfection, Belle. You are lovey, and kind, and generous." He lifted her hands to his lips and pressed a kiss to them. "You're beautiful." She smiled at him, tears filling her eyes once more. Wiping at them with his fingers, he gently brought her face down to press a delicate kiss to her lips. "And you will be absolutely divine tomorrow."

"Because of you," she said with a slight giggle, "You'll be the reason I'm pretty."

Rumple shook his head. "You need no help from me," he assured her earnestly, "Believe me, Belle. That dress is nothing but satin and lace without you."

She smiled affectionately. "I suppose I'm just being silly. I just got caught up in all the nonsense of it all. It's my wedding day, and I suppose that for just one day, I wanted to be pretty."

He shook his head. "It's your wedding. You should be allowed to fret over those things if you wish."

"Thank you," she said, running her hand through his hair. He smiled at her and stood, her fingers slipping from his cheeks. As much as he would prefer to spend the evening comforting and assuring her, he had a wedding dress to finish, and it was going to take him most of the night to get it done. It wasn't how he'd imagined spending his night of bachelorhood, but he would not have had it any other way.

He sat back down and picked up the needle. He glanced at it then paused, glancing up to give Belle a humored look. "But starting next week, I'm teaching you how to sew. I'll not have you breaking down every time something doesn't fit quite right." He winked at her and she stuck her tongue out at him in reply.

"If you're willing to teach me, then I'm willing to learn."

"Stick with me, and you'll become the greatest seamstress in the land."

Belle laughed, "I'll be unstoppable!" She declared with a laugh, "There would be nothing I can't do!"

They laughed together. Rumplestiltskin was glad to see the joy and humor return to her demeanor. He hated to see her upset, and he was pleased to know that his teasing had lightened her spirits some. It felt good to laugh and tease with her, and he looked forward to a lifetime of nights just like this. They fell back into another easy silence and he picked up his needle to continue working. As the night progressed he continued working. He sewed until his hands went numb, and then he continued to sew. Finally, as the night began to melt into early morning he finished. He laid the dress down and flexed his stiff hands, grimacing at the pain. He looked over to see Belle, who had long since moved to stretch out on her bed next to him, sound asleep. He rose, stretching his back and walked over to where she lay, head drooped to the side. He knelt down next to her and gently shook her shoulder.

"Belle," he whispered.

She stirred and opened her eyes. When she noticed him, she smiled sleepily, humming in contentment. "Hey," she mumbled sleepily.

"Hey," he answered softly. "It's finished, sweetheart."

That seemed to gain her attention. She sat up, blinking away the fuzziness from sleep. He helped her stand, frowning when she groaned in pain. He should have seen to her comfort. It would not do for her to be in pain on her wedding day. He froze as the realization dawned on him. It was their wedding day.

She glanced over to the window and wrinkled her brow in slight confusion, interrupting his thoughts. "It's morning," she stated plainly, turning back to look at him.

He nodded. "It is. Come on, let's have you try it on," he said. She agreed and he turned around, shutting his eyes once more as she slipped out of her nightgown and pulled on the wedding dress. He waited for her to give him a signal that it was all right to look, and after a few minutes she did so. He turned to see her standing before him, and if the sight of her in a dress that did not fit her at all had left him stunned, then the sight of her in the gown as it was meant to look was enough to leave him breathless. He'd cut and sewed and hemmed and altered, and all his work had paid off dearly.

The dress fit in all the right places, no longer sagging and swallowing her, but framed her form. It was fitted, but not too tight, the satin cinching at the waist just enough to make her look even thinner than she already was. The skirt flowed down her legs, and the train flowed out behind her. He'd removed the hideous puffs of material at her shoulders, cutting them off completely and using some of the lace he'd salvaged from other parts of the dress to make small sleeves that stopped just a few inches past her shoulders. She looked radiant, and he wished he could freeze time in that moment so he could forever gaze upon her beauty. No matter what happened, he would remember her like this, angelic and beautiful and glowing - and all for him.

"What do you think?" She asked, twirling around in a circle so that he could admire her from all angles.

"I am the luckiest man alive," he declared breathlessly, causing Belle to giggle.

"I meant about the dress."

"I'm the luckiest man alive," he repeated and Belle blushed.

"You approve, then?"

He swallowed heavily. "Very much."

She grinned. "Good. Now go away."

He tried to hide his hurt but Belle did not seem to notice, continuing, "You need to get some rest and I need to get ready for this evening," she said with a smile. "I know you're worried about seeing me before the wedding so maybe if you go before the sun completely rises, we'll still maintain some good luck."

She was teasing him. He sighed and felt the slight hurt melt away into giddy anticipation. He agreed to go, but not before stealing one last kiss from his soon-to-be-wife. She giggled and shooed him away after making him swear to meet her and her father at the temple at sunset.

"Nothing could keep me away," he promised, and with one final glance at her, he gathered his materials and slipped out into the dawn. The next time he saw her, she would become his wife, and their life could truly begin.

Author's Notes:

Don't worry. Nothing bad is going to happen. Yet.

Thank you so much to everyone for your reviews, follows, and favorites. It is most appreciated!

Chapter 9 will be up Friday, December 13!

Disclaimer: See chapters 1 and/or 2 for the full disclaimer.