Chapter 12: Courage

Rumplestiltskin was no soldier.

That fact became blindingly obvious to him as he stepped foot into the camp. He'd sat through a briefing at the meeting point the day before, where a knight had explained to them their duties, and gave them their specific orders. All the men around him buzzed with excitement over the prospect of slaying monsters, but now that he was here, all Rumplestiltskin could think of was getting out alive.

He and several other soldier's had been given the task of training with the sword. Rumplestiltskin had never held such a weapon in his life, but he was relieved when he learned that he would spend the first three month's of his time in the King's Army training for the fight. There had been rumors that men were drafted and thrown out onto the field, more an offering to the Ogres than a combatant. Rumplestiltskin took solace in the fact that he would at least face the creatures with the knowledge of how to fight.

He and the troop he'd been assigned to marched for three days to the camp near the front. He was given his provisions, a tent, King's Armor, and a few other basic supplies and instructed to set up camp. The training would begin the next day and would continue every day for the next three months or until the Duke declared they were needed - which could come at any moment.

Rumplestiltskin found a small empty patch of land near the end of a row of tents and began to painstakingly set his up. His hands shook from his nervousness, and he could tell that other soldiers who passed by were staring at him humorously. He sighed to himself, praying to the gods that he would not be known as a fool here; and as if he'd been heard, the tent was lifted from his hands and a man glanced over at him with friendly, wide eyes.

He said nothing, but held one end of the tent out to Rumplestiltskin who took it quickly, and they worked in silence as they put of the tent. When it was finished, Rumplestiltskin turned to thank the man, but before he could speak, the man held up his hand to stop him.

"Had a right good time with mine, too," he said. "It's a tricky thing; you gotta know how to handle it. No one offered to help me, and I bet you I spent two hours trying to get the damn thing up right."

"Thank you," Rumplestiltskin said anyway, offering the man a hesitant smile. "You're very kind."

"Nah, think nothing of it. Name's Adimar," the man said. "Though most call me Adi." He offered Rumplestiltskin his hand, and Rumple took it gratefully. This camp was in another village that was close to the front and far from home, and hardly anyone knew him here. Here he did not have to be the coward. Here he was no longer just the poor spinner. There were those who knew him as such, but there were more who did not. He saw this brother in arms as a potential ally - a friend who would know none of his pathetic past and would judge him based on what he saw on the fields.

It was a fresh start in many ways, and Rumplestiltskin was not going to let it pass him by.

"I'm Rumplestiltskin," he replied at long last, letting go of the taller man's hand.

"Well, ain't that a mouthful!" Adi laughed. "Mind if I call you Rum?"

"My uh…my wife calls me Rumple."

"I'll leave that for your wife," Adi laughed, "I'll stick with Rum, if that's all right."

Rumplestiltskin had never been fond of his name. He'd enjoyed Belle calling him "Rumple". It had been sweet and full of affection. It was a name that was whispered sweetly in the dead of night. It was a name that evoked the warmest and loveliest sensations in him. For Belle he would stay Rumple, but for his comrades, for his new friend, he could be Rum. Rum was simple. It was different. It wasn't a reflection of the man he'd always been, and he embraced the change.

"Rum is fine," Rumple agreed with a smile. Deciding to change the subject he asked, "Is this your first time fighting?" Now that he had a friendly face to talk to, he was reluctant to let him go. He hadn't made small talk or had a friendly conversation with anyone other than Belle or her father in so long that he'd forgotten how nice it was to talk without having the shame of his family sitting noticeably between them.

Adi nodded. "Aye it is. But I'm ready," he said with palpable excitement. "My brother's joined the army not long ago. I stayed behind to help with the farm, but I longed for the day I could join them here."

Rumplestiltskin glanced around. "And where are your brothers?"

"Dead," Adi replied. "And much as I miss them, I know it's my duty to help defeat these monsters to avenge them. They fought and died bravely so I'm told, and in the end that's all I could have asked of them."

Rumplestiltskin disagreed. Had he any brothers, he would have wanted them to return home safely. He was a minority in his opinions of death and glory, but this man handled his grief by vowing vengeance against the monsters who'd taken his brother's lives. Rumplestiltskin could not begrudge the man that.

"Have you been assigned a post?" Adi asked, changing the subject. He did not dwell on one topic long, and Rumplestiltskin was grateful that the somber topic of before was quickly banished for more enthusiastic conversation.

"I'm to train with the sword," he said, "I'll be in the front lineup."

"Ay!" Adi declared excitedly, slapping Rumplestiltskin on the back. "It seems I've met my partner then! I'm to train with the sword as well. Looking forward to slashing those bastards limb from limb!"

Rumplestiltskin smiled tersely and nodded, wincing from the sting on his upper back from where his new friend had hit him. "We're to see the blacksmith before the morrow'," Rumplestiltskin stated, "To get our weapons."

"And fine weapons they shall be!" Adi declared. Rumplestiltskin wondered if the man was so excitable over everything. "Come on," he said, grabbing Rumplestiltskin by the arm and half-dragging him toward the black smith's tent. "Let's go see the 'smithy."

Rumplestiltskin let himself be dragged, laughing at Adi's excitement to be armed. He had the distinct feeling he would be having an unofficial training session later that evening.

~000~

Belle was going mad. It had been three weeks since her husband left for the Ogre Wars, and she was desperate for him to return home. She'd visited her father every day, spending as much time with him as possible. She hated returning to her small, empty home every evening and could only imagine how miserable Rumplestiltskin had been all those years before she'd come into his life.

They had not been married long, but Belle had quickly grown used to her life with him. She had loved Rumplestiltskin from the moment he'd presented her with that bouquet of flowers when they'd gone to the summer festival together.

She knew it would be a long time before her husband returned to her, if he even returned at all. She tried to banish those thoughts but knew it was a hopeless endeavor. It was a real possibility that she had seen her husband for the last time, if the horror stories from the battlefield could be believed. She'd never been interested in listening to the tales that came from the front, but now that her husband had a real chance of being the poor soul in the tale, she had even less interest in listening to people discuss the gruesome scenes from the battlefield.

Instead, she stayed with her father, cleaned, and carried on with life as best she could. She recruited her father to help her set up the small sheep's pin that would hold the lambs she and Rumplestiltskin were going to purchase, and the thought of her husband coming home to two healthy sheep, ready for profit encouraged her.

Finally after several more days of anxious waiting, she received word that the lambs Rumplestiltskin had been promised were ready to be collected. She traveled to Hagan's farm early one morning with the money and contract Rumplestiltskin asked her father to make to collect the sheep. Hagan greeted her with a deep frown and was instantly unpleasant, making lewd comments and griping about how poor taste it was that the spinner had sent his wife to do 'a man's job'.

"My husband is away fighting the Ogres," she said tersely. "What would you have me do? Stay home and pine for him until he returns? There are things that cannot wait that must be done, and I cannot wait for him to come home from war."

"I didn't mean nuthin' by it, Lass," Hagan replied hastily, not sure how to handle a woman speaking back to him in such a manner. Had it been his own wife or children he would not have hesitated to raise a hand to them, but this was another man's wife and a customer, so he held his tongue the rest of the time, signing the contract presented to him and collecting his coins. He offered to help her take the sheep to their new home, and although she was not fond of the man, she was beginning to feel ill and quickly agreed.

They did not speak as they traveled back to her home. Hagan was unwilling to speak and risk her sharp retorts, but Belle had no interest in making idle conversation as she concentrated on not getting sick. She hadn't felt this way before, and she could not wait to get home, get the sheep settled, and send Hagan on his way so that she could lie down and let whatever had come over her pass.

They arrived, and Hagan laid the sheep inside their pin, all the while explaining to Belle how to care for them. He was in his element here as he explained the best ways to care for the animals, and Belle could see the man behind the brute. He was gruff and oftentimes hateful, and it was no secret that he was less than kind to his wife for bearing him too many girls, but as he stroked one of the lamb's head Belle could see his potential kindness. If only he could realize it.

He bid her good day, declining her polite offer for something to drink – for which she was grateful – and went on his way. She made sure the small lambs were settled and had plenty to eat and drink after which she went inside and collapsed onto her bed. She clutched her stomach as it cramped and ached. She felt that she might retch, but she was so sick that she could not find the strength to search for a pail. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing, inhaling deep and exhaling slowly. The pain dulled, and once her mind was not clouded from that, the thought that she had not yet bled occurred to her.

She was diligent in keeping track of her bleeding, though in recent weeks she had been too distracted by her husband and their new life to properly count her days. She had a piece of parchment hidden in one of her books that she used to count and track, and once she felt she could move without emptying the contents of her stomach, she rose and dug through her trousseau where she kept her books. Their home was not large, so she had offered to keep most of her things that were not needed every day put away. She found the book, a romantic tale, and flipped to the back and pulled out the folded piece of paper that had her days marked down. She sat down at the small table and began to count, thinking back to the last day she'd marked down up until the present.

Her brow furrowed. If she were correct, she should have bled a few days after Rumplestiltskin left for training. That had been a month ago at this point, and she frowned. That couldn't be right. She tried again; counting and thinking back but no matter how many times she calculated it, it came out the same. She was late.

Staring at the paper, her hand drifted almost instinctively to her stomach. Something fluttered inside her, and though she decided she would wait a couple more weeks, just to be sure, the thought of being pregnant with Rumplestiltskin's child filled her with a curious warmth she had never felt before. She'd been worried about having a child during this war - especially with the now very real chance that the child would not have a father – but now that there was likely a child already growing within her, she couldn't help but feel excited. There was fear as well, but there would always be fear at the thought of bringing a child into this world. Belle quickly decided to put aside that fear and instead concentrate on finding out for certain if she was carrying a child.

~000~

The next day Belle sat on the chair, staring down at the rags in her hands. She reasoned that her distress over Rumplestiltskin could have affected her, and so she'd worn her rags to bed, wondering if she would wake up the next day with them covered in blood. Now she held them, and they were spotless. She wadded them up and threw them in the small basket that held the other towels, rags, and clothing that needed to be washed. She'd been neglectful in her laundering since Rumplestiltskin left, and she chided herself on her laziness. Her husband was out fighting; she could at least keep the house clean so that when he returned, he had a nice home to come back to.

But now she had not the strength nor the will to rise and clean. Instead she wondered what she should do regarding her possible child. She entertained the idea of going to the midwife for answers. It would be a relief, to know with certainty whether or not she was to be a mother. And the more she thought about it, the more the thought warmed her. She wanted to be a mother. She wanted it dearly.

With that revelation, she stood and grabbed her cloak. She wanted to know, lest she get her hopes up for nothing, and rushed out the door. She needed council and advice and perhaps a book or two on the subject. Even if she were not pregnant, she would begin preparing for it, so that when Rumplestiltskin came home, they could start their family.

She made it to the hut where the woman lived and worked, and knocked on the door carefully.

"Enter, love," the voice on the inside said, and Belle pushed the door open and slipped inside. The room was dark, save for a few candles. There were thick, dark pieces of fabric covering the windows, giving the room an eerie feel. Belle couldn't see much of the layout of the room, but she could make out two women on the floor near the center of the room, one breathing in heavy, long breaths, the other holding her hand and whispering encouragement. Belle watched, what little she could, as the woman lying down alternated between breathing and moaning in pain, and after a while, she stopped.

The other woman, the midwife, stood then, and wiping her hands on her apron, focused her attention on Belle.

"What can I do for you, love?" The woman asked.

Ignoring her question, Belle glanced down at the other woman on the floor. "Is she all right?"

Nodding dismissively, the midwife nodded. "Oh yes, yes. Had a difficult pregnancy, that one has. Due to go into labor soon. I'm just trying to make her last days before the babe comes as comfortable as possible."

Belle swallowed heavily. Were all pregnancies uncomfortable? How much pain was there before the child came? She suddenly felt warm and her hands began to sweat from her nervousness.

The woman nodded again, then moved over and began uncovering the windows. Light poured in, causing Belle go blink and the other woman to groan.

"You'll be fine," the midwife said to the other woman. Belle glanced down at her, unable to keep from staring at her middle. She was large, clearly toward the end of her pregnancy, and she looked ragged and war-torn. The midwife eased the woman up, and helped her stand, steadying her before moving over to a cupboard and rummaging through some things before returning and offering her a small vial.

"Drink this tonight, and you should be able to sleep without difficulty," the woman said. "And come back tomorrow. I have a feeling the child will be ready."

The woman, too tired to answer, merely nodded and took the vial before turning and slowly staggering to the door. She acknowledged Belle, who gave her a polite nod in return, and waited for the woman to address her.

"What is the matter, love?"

"I have not bled, ma'am," she said softly, "I think I may be with child, but I wanted to consult you to be sure."

"Come sit."

Belle obeyed, sitting on a stool across from the old woman. "Call me Agda," the woman said, offering Belle her hand. Belle took it and the woman ran her hands over Belle's knuckles in a soothing manner. "Now, when did you last bleed?"

Belle told her everything, showing her the paper, and explaining how ill she'd felt the day she'd gone to get the sheep from Hagan's farm. The woman, who was not shy about prying into the most personal and private aspects of a woman's life, asked how often she'd been intimate with her husband, and Belle blushed at the thought of discussing her intimate relations with someone. But she sat up straight and mentioned all the times they'd been together, and the woman tutted in amusement.

"Ah, the joys of a fresh marriage," Agda cooed, and Belle wondered at the woman, who looked old enough to be a mother, but not quite so old as one would expect of a midwife to be. Belle had never needed to visit the midwife, though she had seen her from afar, and she'd always expected a little old woman who was stronger and wiser than she seemed. This woman could not have been more than forty, and was tall, plump, and pretty. Her hair was a light brown, and tied back in a bun. She had wide eyes and a genuine smile that displayed her crooked teeth. She had a friendliness about her that calmed Belle; this was a woman she could trust. This woman cared not who her husband was and was only concerned in finding out enough information to help. And though Belle was embarrassed by the nature of some of the questions, she forced herself not to blush and answer them with as much truth as she could. This woman had no doubt heard and seen much. Belle's troubles were nothing new for Agda.

"All signs point to a pregnancy," Agda said with a firm nod, "But I would wait to see if you bleed. If you do not bleed in the coming month, then I shall offer my congratulations, and any help you may desire."

Before Belle could respond, Agda leaned forward and grabbed Belle's hand. "I know your husband was called away to fight," she said. "Many of the men were. But you rest easy, my dear. I'll take good care of you." She leaned back and offered a sly smile. "Your husband will most likely be in for a surprise when he returns."

Yes, Belle thought. He would be.

She left Agda's with a promise to return in one month. She walked aimlessly and found herself wandering to the field where she and Rumplestiltskin had danced together at the festival, not wanting to go home just yet. She laid down on the soft grass, stretching out and basking in the warm sunlight. She rested her hands against her stomach and felt a flutter of excitement as she thought of the coming months and the child that would greet her soon. She would have to wait until she was certain, but Agda had seemed certain. It would be exciting, Belle thought, to prepare for a child. There would be so much to do. She would have to borrow books from Agda. She's seen a shelf lined with them and she had no doubt that there would be plenty of things she did not know. She would learn and she would grow and she would become a mother.

And then Belle began to cry. As much as she looked forward to this, she wished her husband could be with her to share in her joy. She could envision it now: he would be overwhelmed. He would fret over her constantly, chiding her for doing much more than lifting a finger. And suddenly she missed him. It had been a constant ache since he'd left, but she'd managed. Now it crashed over her like a wave and she felt as if she might drown in the sorrow of his absence. Above all else, she wished he could be here to share in her joy. It would not be the same without him. She did not know when he would return, and it was easy to imagine a future where she went into labor and bore her child without the father even being aware of its existence. It broke her heart to think that her husband was away with no knowledge of the child he could very well come home to.

When the last of her tears slid down her cheeks and watered the grass, she sat up, dusted herself off, and made her way back to her home. She'd felt sorry for herself and had a good cry but now it was time to carry on, face the future before her, and hope for the best. She would wait for her husband, and she would wait for the proof of their love to begin growing prominently. She would wait with diligence and persistence, and if she bore a child without her husband present, then she would do so. He would be home one day. It was a hope that she clung to, and she knew that in the months to come, she would need as much hope and courage as she could muster.

~000~

"Ah ha ha!" Adi shouted as he blocked Rumplestiltskin's advance, swiveling around to strike. Rumplestiltskin dodged, smiling in disbelief as he managed to not get slashed yet again. They'd been training daily, and Adi was determined to become the greatest swordsman the King's Army had ever seen. And he seemed determined to drag Rumplestiltskin along with him.

It was fun, having a friend, and Rumplestiltskin laughed as he dodged yet another attack and struck again at Adi.

Where Adi was tall, Rumplestiltskin was not, which gave him a slight advantage. He was quicker too, and could slip around Adi with ease and grace. He was still poor with a sword, but he was dedicated to his craft, and enjoyed sparring with Adi as often as he could. Rumplestiltskin wondered if this was what having a brother was like, and it was a thought that delighted him. If he could not have his Belle, he could have his friend to talk to. He hoped Belle had found comfort in a friend as well; the separation was painful at the least, and he silently thanked Adi for keeping him too busy to sit and dwell on his wife. He knew if he thought of her too long, he would pack his belongings and return to her; and he knew that would bring no good for either of them.

"You're too quick!" Adi breathed heavily, dropping his sword in defeat. "How do you always manage to get behind me? I can't ever tell which way you're going to go!"

Rumplestiltskin shrugged and laughed as Adi collapsed to the ground, laughing breathlessly. "They should have called you Rumple-stealth-skin."

Adi laughed heartily as his joke and before long Rumplestiltskin admitted defeat and laughed too. He sat down next to Adi to catch his breath. "Please don't call me that," he begged.

Adi laughed again and reached over to pat Rumplestiltskin's arm. "No worries there. Still way too much to pronounce."

A noise to the left caused the two men to look over, and they saw a small gathering of soldiers had formed, two others in the middle of them. Adi sat up and squinted in that direction. "Wonder what's going on?"

Rumplestiltskin shrugged and stood. "I don't know, but I'm going to find out."

Adi jumped up clumsily and followed Rumpletiltskin to the group. In the middle were two soldiers, one Rumplestiltskin had never seen before, and one he had.

"I know him," Rumplestiltskin whispered to Adi, pointing to the tall, lanky lad. "He's from my village. His name's Wilmar."

"What's he like?" Adi asked curiously.

Rumplestiltskin shrugged. "He gave me a black eye once."

"What'd you do to deserve that?" Adi asked, seeming surprised.

"I told him not to speak ill of my wife, and he punched me."

"Sounds like a fine lad," Adi growled, glaring at the boy who was too busy fighting off someone else to notice.

"She punched him back," Rumplestiltskin admitted. "After I was knocked out. His eye looked almost worse than mine."

"Shame she's married to you," Adi teased. "I'd like me a woman who could slug a man to the ground."

"She's something else," Rumplestiltskin agreed, his thoughts drifting to his wife.

"Think we oughta help the poor bastard?" Adi questioned, stepping forward but Rumplestiltskin held out his hand to stop him.

"Looks like some officers are coming. We should let them handle it. In fact I'd rather not let Wilmar see me."

"Then lead the way, Stealth-skin," Adi answered, causing Rumplestiltskin to glare at the man before sneaking away to let the officers deal with the pulverized Wilmar. To Rumplestiltskin, it was no less than what the boy deserved.

~000~

As the day progressed, Rumplestiltskin could not shake the thought of Wilmar from his head. He had no desire to approach the lad and say anything to him. That would lead to nothing but trouble, and Rumplestiltskin did not want to draw attention to himself from the men of his village who would find entertainment in ridiculing him in front of his comrades.

But seeing Wilmar had made him think of home and of the whispers and stares he and Belle had dealt with during their courtship. Things had died down after a while as neither of them did anything to cause rumors to spread more than normal. But he worried about her. He wondered if she was doing well. He wondered if she was enjoying her time to herself or if she pined for him the way he pined for her. As enjoyable as his time here had been, he longed to return to his wife; but he knew he had a duty to his people and his country, so he would stay. He would fight.

He lay in his tent that night, tired, sore, and homesick. He enjoyed the training sessions, brutal and tiresome though they were. Had it not been for Adi, ever excitable and encouraging, Rumplestiltskin would not have thought himself possible to do what was expected of him. He'd managed so far, but it was Adi who stirred his spirit and kindled his patriotism for his king and people. He was glad to have met such a soldier whom he could stand next to and draw from his courage. Adi was afraid of nothing, and Rumplestiltskin envied his newfound friend.

They had not spoken intimately, their friendship budding over simpler things. Rumplestiltskin had mentioned Belle a couple times, but he'd not said much else about his life at home. Adi was more open and mentioned his brother's frequently, but he only spoke of their skills at the sword and bow. Adi was born to be a soldier, Rumplestiltskin could see that. And despite Adi's insistence that Rumplestiltskin would grow into his armor, a joke that always made Adi chuckle, Rumplstiltskin knew his place was at his wheel, with Belle at his side. There was no shame in such a place, he thought. He enjoyed spinning. He was good at it, and had managed to teach his wife in a short time how to manage – a skill that would come in handy now that he was here and she was home.

He longed to see Belle. He wanted to write to her, to ensure her that he was well but the war had taken such a toll that the only messengers that came back and forth were from the King or the Duke; they could not afford to send messengers to all parts of the land bearing words of love and longing from lovers separated by The Cause. There were those who could bribe a messenger to deliver a letter, but the bribes were more money than Rumplestiltskin could even imagine, so he resigned himself to the fact that he would not hear one word about his dear wife until he crossed the threshold of their home.

If he made it home.

The more he trained, the more he realized just how susceptible he was to death. Adi was fierce and strong, but never used all his force, and always stopped short of truly causing Rumplestiltskin harm. The Ogres would not be so generous, and he hoped that when it came time to face them he would be brave and fight to whatever end. He was afraid, he truly was. But he would do this, for himself, for his people, and most importantly, for Belle. He would find the courage to do what his father could not: he would fight for those he loved. He would not abandon them, he vowed. He would summon up all the courage he could and he would survive, and he would return to his wife a new man. A man worthy of her love.

Author's Notes:

I hope everyone had a very Happy New Year!

Chapter 13 should be up on Friday the 10th, as usual. There is a slight chance that I may have to delay until the 11th, but it's a very slight chance. Just want to give you a heads up in case I don't make my usual Friday post.

Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time, or any of its characters. This is for entertainment purposes only. I make no money off this. Agda, Wilmar, and Adi belong to me.