Chapter 25 A Day of Importance

'My fellow Americans: Last night, when I spoke with you about the fall of Rome, I knew at that moment that troops of the United States and our allies were crossing the Channel in another and greater operation. It has come to pass with success thus far…'

Belle sat, hunched over, elbows on her knees and fists below her chin. Wendy purred in Mildred's lap as Tinker and Tootles perched lazily on the top of Mildred's chair, not realizing the significance of what was being spoken on the radio.

The president went on to begin praying for the success of the mission.

'...Some will never return. Embrace these, Father, and receive them, Thy heroic servants, into Thy kingdom…'

Belle felt a lump form in her throat for men she didn't know, or at least, she didn't think she did. She wondered if there were any fellow citizens of Storybrooke now invading another set of shores. It was a massive operation, that much was certain and how many men had died already? Young men, as young as Randy or even younger, at the very cusp of adulthood, snatched away and brought to Heaven's door. She looked over to see Mildred with a handkerchief dabbing at her eyes, so she was in good company.

The president did not call for a national day of prayer, he said the road would be so long they ought to be in continuous prayer. This meant that this was just the beginning. Besides the mewing of the cats, Mildred and Belle were silent that evening. After the Fireside Chat, Belle couldn't bring herself to go to bed until much much later. She would be tired the next day but that didn't seem to matter much. She knelt beside her bed and bathed it in tears and prayers for all the men in harm's way and those whose souls were already going up to him, and the sould left here on earth that would mourn them.

The president had spoken before, of the fall of Rome. That was the campaign that took Roger's leg, and that's where his friend Jeffries would be. At least Roger could be relieved that his friend would not be part of this, though it did cause her to wonder how the man was-she was, after all, very much beholding to him for both introducing her to Roger and for alerting her of Roger's injury and place of recovery. Thinking of all this, she fell asleep and did not wake until the sun hit the lacy edges of the curtains hanging on the wide window near her bed.

The atmosphere of the town, the next day, was a somber one. Families with children and relatives fighting were all walking in one direction, in fact, when she walked into the library Mrs. Smith was meeting her at the door.

'I've decided to close it, Belle. I'm off to St. Mary's, I know you're protestant, but you're welcome to come along.' She said all this without her customary smile. Belle shook her head. 'Thank you very much, but I think I'll head towards my church, I saw a few friends head in that direction already.'

Mrs. Smith said nothing but they went their separate ways and Belle found herself heading to Leroy's pew. He was doubled over, sitting in the pew, hat in hand and his mouth moving but no words exiting his mouth. He looked like Hannah in the Bible, pleading for a son-he was pleading for his son. Belle placed a hand on his shoulder and he did not respond, so earnest were his prayers. Belle felt the sting of tears and she sat near him and his wife and did what they did, plead with the Almighty. Please spare Randy. I do not know where he is, but please spare him. They've lost one already, please do not let them lose Randy too.'

The pastor floated from family to family, sometimes praying with them, sometimes standing before the crowd, trying to offer some words of spiritual encouragement. Belle was unsure how long she was there, but slowly, ever so slowly, the church finally began to empty as people went to go to their families for dinner.

In Portland, Maine the atmosphere was no less somber than in Storybrooke, though Roger's sense of community was not like Belle's. He had no radio to hear from the President, though he did buy a paper that morning and its contents were moving enough to distract even his full mind of the letter he had read the evening before. Once he got to the firm it was quiet, people just sat or stood where they were, seeming to forget what it was they were doing.

'I can't think straight.' The owner of the firm declared to the area where Roger was-the leatherlike countenance of his face wrinkled doubly over in concern. 'Go home, go to church, say your prayers, whatever it is you need to do. I'll see you tomorrow bright and early.' And so they did. Roger sat on his bed and thought of many things, said a good long prayer, and ran his hair through his hands a great deal.

Before he left that day, both the papers and talk around the office was all about the great 'Fall of Rome' that preceded this current invasion. Some fall! He dreamed that same night of one of his horrible nightmares, though this time it included a clapping audience as they celebrated the great bloody tragedy as a victory. His rational mind was glad that there was a victory somewhere in all the mess that was what they did in Italy. Now if this French invasion could go better than Italy…

As the days passed, it was clear that the state of things would not be known for a while, and life went on as usual, or as usual as a nation in the midst of war can go on. Roger went to work, put in long hours, kept organized, tried to be efficient, and as he felt all the aches of the day, he planned. While his thoughts had dwelt on what was going on overseas, they were quite overtaken by the letter that stood forever opened on his nightstand. It had been read so many times he had memorized the words. No matter that he knew the words by heart, he still managed to come back up to his room and find that he disbelieved it had even happened. He would read the letter again, pull out the item he had procured the day before, and run his hands through his hair and hope that he was doing the right thing.

Saturday dawned all blustery and cool, though the sun was out, at least. The wind kept the bus as comfortable as it could be, and the journey seemed to take no time at all, as the object in his jacket felt as if it burned through the fabric, he could feel every jolt and movement as if it could touch his skin. It was a strange sensation. He had the proof of her love nestled snugly next to the tiny picture of her in his pocket, and yet…

And yet his body churned with nerves over what he was to do. He limped out of the bus and into the cool sunshine, yearning to see her and worried he wasn't doing the right thing by her after all. Well, if he thought along those lines for too long, the little bit of courage he had would desert him altogether, so he pushed it away from his mind and continued towards the library, where he knew that Belle would be working. He had yet to enter this building, but it was very conveniently placed at the end of the main street. He willed himself to keep limping forward and soon enough he was at the library doors.

An older woman was at the desk, he assumed this was the Mrs. Smith that Belle had spoken of. There were only a couple of people milling about and he could see no Belle on first glance.

Mrs. Smith looked up from her desk, glasses sliding down on her nose to better peer over them.

'I, um, would you happen to know where Miss French is?' He stammered out in a quiet tone. Thankfully it was an appropriate tone, since it was, in fact, a library.

She smiled.

'She is down one of the aisles restocking books. I believe I last saw her and the wheeled tray heading over there.' She gave a small point towards the non-fiction section and Roger limped away, heart pounding towards the said aisle.

He saw her before she saw him. She was in the same yellow dress that he liked so much-imagined her in a few times since she had worn it, though with a navy sweater pulled over, and the bits of her yellow collar sticking out. Her shoes were white and very girlish-he imagined they were remnants of her school days, since the war would have already commenced by that point he could see her forgoing new shoes as some sort of way to help out with the war effort-he would not think too deeply now about how little she was allowed to pack when being forced to leave her father's home-he had seen the little she had brought with her. But there she was, perched on a ladder, a good three or four books tucked under her arm, her focus on finding where each one went that she had not even heard the thump of his cane, or perhaps she even did, she wasn't expecting him, after all.

'Miss French?' He cleared his throat, startling her from her focus, though thankfully catching herself before taking a tumble, it scared him enough he took a step forward, closer.

'Oh yes, I'm sorry…Roger!' Her professional, soft tone turned into a squeak and the last three books under her arm shot out, taking a tumble onto the floor. He did not notice, for at the same moment she also took a tumble. He was only too thankful she was not all the way up the ladder, though they both went to the floor in a painful heap, his prosthetic jamming into his leg, causing a hiss to be uttered involuntarily along with Belle's Oof! As she landed, quite on top of him.

'Roger, oh Roger, I'm so sorry!' She began trying to help him up, but he found that his leg hurt considerably and he was now worried about his ability to walk. He wanted to assure her he was fine, but he was having a hard time doing so through the pain. Without another word, she tucked her body up under his arm, wrapping her own arm around him, helping him to one of the plush chairs set up in the corner.

'Oh Roger, I'm so sorry.' She said again once he was placed there, and he tried to regain his breath.

'I'm alright, shouldn't 'ave scared you, and I shouldn't 'ave thought I could do something to help you either, that was rather stupid of me.' He muttered as the pain subsided.

'No, that was rather sweet of you, though I am more than sorry you are hurt. I can be rather clumsy at times, and it was my fault for trying to decide if I would like to check out that book.' She fluttered her hand nervously towards one of the books now lying crumpled to the floor. 'While being perched precariously on a ladder. Mrs. Smith told me the old thing made her nervous-which is why I was on it.' She chuckled darkly then looked over at him with concern. 'Are you sure you're okay, are you in pain? Will you be able to walk, you think?'

Roger felt the heat of embarrassment prickle his face. 'I'll be alright.' he assured her, though he wasn't so sure himself. What a thing to do at such a time!

Belle bit her lip and looked at him with a skeptical gaze, as if she were looking for any signs of dishonesty. He pulled his face in such a way as to mask any pain. He wouldn't be purposefully deceptive, but he really did not want her worrying over him. She seemed satisfied with her analysis and finally let out a breath and beamed, which was a bonnie sight, for sure.

'And you're here!' She said in the as loud and as enthusiastic whisper as she could. Her smile was warm and his chest swelled as he thought how that smile was for him and so full of love-he could know it, without all the internal doubt that came with it this time around. Perhaps he wondered if he was truly any good for her, but she said she loved him, and well, maybe he could believe her, especially when her eyes were that bright and her smile that big when she looked at him.

He couldn't help but smile back. 'Yes, I'm here, I hope you don't mind.'

'Of course, I don't.' She beamed back. 'Are you in for very long?'

'Just until the evening bus, I f-found I rather missed you.' His face felt hot again, just not in the same way as before. Speaking of his feelings was not something that had ever come naturally, the possibility of rejection, though much smaller than it was before, seemed at least plausible when he spoke so openly. The pink in her cheeks and the smile that went all the way up to those bright blue eyes made it worth it, he found.

'I missed you too.' She had grabbed hold of his free hand and looked as if she might give him a peck on the cheek, which would have been more than welcome, but then let him go suddenly looking around the library as she did as if she was worried about some child popping out from behind a shelf and gasping with shock over the display. It amused him enough that he didn't stiffen from the slight touch of her hand, though he found he still missed it when it was gone.

'I work until two, which isn't much longer. I'll stock these books and the rest in the cart, as long as you're alright.'

'Yes, yes, I didn't want to bother you or get in your way. I was willing to wait as long as it took to visit a little.'

Belle bit her lip again, lightly touched his hand again. 'As long as you're alright.' and when he nodded his head she went back to her books-and the ladder. 'No sudden movements.' She chuckled as she climbed back up the blasted thing and his heart beat loudly as he held his breath until she was finished and down from the dangerous contraption. He tried not to think too much about how he would have to think about her being on such a thing while he was so far away from her. He sighed and instead focused on watching her-smiling like an idiot every time she would pause and glance back at him with a smile on her face and a happy twinkle in her eye. He was still fraught with nerves, and the little spill he took and the ache in his leg didn't help matters, however, he carried on with his mission as soon as those twinkling eyes bounced happily over to him to tell him that she was done for the day.

'Do you know of a quiet sor' of place? A park or the like?'

She smirked. 'You don't want to spend time with Mrs. Mildred and her six cats?

Some of the butterflies subsided. 'Not this time-I'd like to be able to keep from sneezing every few seconds if that's alright.'

'Mmm, I suppose so. The park is not very far-do you think you'll be okay?' She looked over at him in concern again and he bit the side of his cheek as he limped a few steps.

'Aye, just fine.' It was better than it had been initially and he would manage.

'Only if you're sure.'

And they left.

His little bit of leg was screaming by the time he had made it, he wondered if he should have gotten a cab, even if had been for the few minutes it would have taken to get there-he was more than ready to get a car of his own, but he was there and they had found a bench and were looking out at the lake, the wind making the sun cast diamond like beams onto the peaks on the lake.

'I haven't been here in over a year.' Belle sighed beside him while he was trying to gather courage. 'I helped Ruby with some of her school out here or when she needed a break from Granny, though she normally just came to the house. I took Papa out here when I felt he needed a break from the stress of his work.' She swallowed, her voice faltering a little.

'You've always taken care of the people around you, haven't you?' Roger couldn't help but observe.

Belle shrugged. 'I haven't really thought about it, I suppose.' She gave a half smile to him.

'Would you-I mean, I worry, Belle.' He wasn't making much sense and Belle's inquisitive look confirmed it. 'You saw what happened today. I'm useless.' Her eyes looked at him with even more confusion. 'You saw for yourself just how incapable I am.' he worried that she would just be trading her freedom to take care of yet another person in her life.

'That's not what I saw.' Belle's mouth was set, her eyes had less twinkle and more fire now than they had before. 'I saw that you would put yourself even in harm's way for someone that you-well, that you love.' her cheeks went a becoming shade of pink and she looked down only for a moment before meeting his eyes in determination.

'Oh Belle.' He sighed, hardly believing the woman in front of him. He swallowed, willing himself to do what he had set out to do. He reached into his pocket.

'A letter was a poor excuse for how things ought to be done...'

'Oh no!' Belle interrupted. 'It was so perfect, Roger. For now I have something I can always keep.' She beamed, and well, he couldn't help but smile through his nerves.

'Always,yes…Belle…I-I came here today…I haven't done any of this properly. No flowers, I cannae even get down on one knee for you, but I just wanted to say, in person. I love you Belle, and I ask you now if you would be my wife.' He had only a slight realization of the words he spoke, his heart was so loud and his whole body trembled with effort. Before he could feel any seconds between question and response, Belle had flung her arms around his neck. The tiny ring in his hand was secure in his grasp, though his entire system had been shocked from the contact. Finally he softened and realized what he needed to do and put his arms around her, feeling with every sense her nearness and the warmth that it brought right down to his soul.

'Oh yes, Roger. Yes! I would be very honored.' She spoke as came back up, though she only came half way. Her arms rested on his shoulders, Roger pulled his ring-less hand up to her face, cradling it. 'I love you Roger Gold.' she whispered as she bit her lower lip and sealed her fate, he had to kiss her, and so he did.

Author's Note:

History Stuff: The famous fireside chat was done by President Franklin D Roosevelt , and the program I quote in the story is from the one he did on D-Day called A 'Mighty Endeavor". You can find the full transcript on the FDR Library website. I only selected a tiny portion, the entire thing is quite good, and I really enjoyed reading it and getting a sense for how the people listening would have felt. 'The Fall of Rome' was indeed the end to the Italian Campaign and it ended right before D-Day, and this is why Jeffries would not have been part of the French invasion. However, the problems with Anzio (where Roger had been) played a big role in how D-day was planned and the failures there helped the success in France. There was no call for national prayer, though churches and synagogues were full the following day, which is why I described the response to the date as such here. Story stuff: This is part 1 of Roger asking Belle. next chapter will have them talking through a few things. This fic is going to be a long one (yes, I am saying that for the hundredth time now, I just want to remind everyone that the 'mushy love stuff' does not signal an end to the story), so all those things that need to be worked through will have a chance to shine. I did research on how people with a leg prosthetic fared after a fall and did my best to describe what would happen here. I actually let him get off easy compared to some. Falls can be anxiety inducing for many with leg prosthetics. Most stilted and awkward proposal ever? If you think that's awkward, you should check out some of my other stories ;)