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rumbellesecretsanta · 11 months ago

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Mysterious

@rumbellesecretsanta

Hi @abovethemists, It's me, Santa!

Happy secret santa! I wish you every bit of happiness and luck.

You gave me a reason to write again and I am thankful for that. I hope you enjoy your gift.

Greetings,

Reolf

“rain, heartache, marriage of convenience”

– Heavy rain was pounding against the window of the carriage. Belle could hardly see anything of the landscape they passed. They were on the way to a ball. It was her 7th season and she was already considered a spinster. Her father absolutely hated it. He wanted her married and soon. Especially now they had financial problems. Belle couldn’t really say why she had stayed unmarried for so long. Was it her mother’s early death? Her absence making it difficult for Belle to navigate the balls and other social gatherings of the ton? Was it her father being an awful matchmaker, only introducing her to boring and dull men? Or perhaps it was just herself who was the problem? Maybe she was the odd one, as she loved to read countless books. It wouldn’t be the first time if she sneaked away during a ball to the library. It wasn’t ladylike, but Belle couldn’t help herself sometimes. – This ball, it seemed difficult to sneak away to the library. They were at the home of The Duke and Duchess of Misthaven. Lord David and his wife Mary Margaret were perfect hosts, but they were highly honored among society. Her father wished they had the social standing among the ton as they did. Her father was only a baron. Their family’s history has been shrouded by the multiple feudal lords waging wars they couldn’t win. It seemed Belle couldn’t win either.

While her father conversed with other Lords, Belle was stationed next to the dance floor. Her dance card remained relatively empty until she caught the eye of a broad shouldered man. He was tall and had dark hair. She felt his eyes on her during the third dance of the evening and by the fourth he had approached her already.

“I don’t think I have ever seen you before. What is your name?”

Belle introduced herself. He smiled and took her hand, kissing her glove. “ My name is Gaston, Lord of LeGume. Can I have this dance?”

As Belle couldn’t see a reason why not, she let him lead her to the dancefloor for the next round of country dance.

His presence was overwhelming. He grabbed her hands, hurting her more really. She also found he was terribly arrogant as he talked about himself and his lavish hunting parties. He insulted other ladies as they passed by. “That dress is ugly compared to her necklace. She is rather idiotic looking. Unless you, my Belle, you are stunning.”

Belle found herself getting more bored by the minute. She hoped the party would soon be over and she could return to her books.

It was when Gaston went to get her a glass of lemonade, she could finally breathe again.

She wanted to turn around and get lost among the corridors of the estate, no matter the social cost. She wanted to do just that as she bumped against someone. Hastily apologizing, she looked up into a familiar face. It was Lord Gold, Earl of the Frontlands.

“It’s no matter,” he answered in his brogue voice. “ I wasn’t looking where I was going either.”

Lord Gold was a mysterious person among the ton. He rarely was at the social events, only if he could make deals with other people. If not making deals, he was standing alone in a corner, cane between his feet. He had long brown hair with gray strands in between, which was unconventional for the fashion. She had spoken to him a handful of times, between standing at the sidelines and being ignored by the other members of the ton.

He was a relatively quiet man and Belle didn’t know why he was so standoffish towards other people. He had obviously a past and Belle liked to know his story.

She saw an opportunity. When she saw Gaston returning, she laughed like she had heard a funny joke and looked Gold in the eye, hoping he would get along. “You are a man of wit, my Lord”

Gold, who had seen Gaston approaching, smiled at her. “If you say so, Miss Marchland.”

Gaston halted in his steps when he saw Gold, but seemed to refind his feet and approached them. “Excuse me, my Lord. But the Lady belongs to me.”

Gold faintly smiled. “ Oh, is that so? Well, I seem to remember another Lady at another ball where I heard you say that exact same thing. How did that end for you?”

Belle looked between the two men, confused what they were talking about.

It seemed to work for now. Gaston wished her a good evening and walked off. Belle smiled at Gold. “Thank you for that. He was terribly arrogant and intimidating.”

Gold stared into her eyes and nodded. “From what I have seen, I cannot disagree.” He looked at his pocket watch. “Well, I must be off. Give my regards to your father.”

And he walked away, leaning on his cane. – Gold rarely attended social gatherings. If he did, it was for good reason. Balls were tedious affairs, but visiting the Gentlemen’s Club was even more exhausting. Listening to men boasting about their lives was… interesting to get to know their weaknesses, but exhausting nonetheless.

Right now, he was sitting in a corner, listening to the arrogant Lord LeGume, Gaston. And he was boiling with anger.

“I will tell you this, gentlemen. She is the one, the lucky girl I am going to marry.”

“The Marchland’s Baron's daughter? Isn’t she the odd one?”

Gaston shrugged. “She is the most beautiful girl in town.”

“I know, but…”

Gaston slammed his fist on the table. “I know she is the best, and I only acquire the best.”

He sat back, slightly more relaxed. “Besides, her father is practically bankrupt. He is desperate to marry his daughter. Her title will make it easier for me to get up in the social ladder. Once I save her father from bankruptcy, I will take his place and bam my family’s name will be entering the nobility.”

Gold had heard enough. In no circumstances would he let Belle marry that oaf. She deserved a handsome man, yes, but she deserved someone wanting to be her partner, making sure she was happy, appreciating her sharp mind.

In all the years Gold had seen Belle at balls, he had never seen her with a real suitor. He knew she was beginning to be considered a spinster. Gaston was her first real chance of marriage.

Gold hated himself to do this but he had no choice. He was selfish. He wanted Belle safe.

That’s why he stepped into his carriage and made his way to the house of the Baron of Marchland. –

Belle didn’t know how her father had arranged it, but she was marrying. To Lord Duncan Gold, Earl of the Frontlands of all people! She could scarcely believe it.

It was a quiet affair: a priest in a small church, her father at her side, an exchange of vows and a small kiss on the lips.

She was a Countess now! Who had ever thought Odd Belle would be married to an Earl?

Her new husband was quiet on the way to his estate. He just looked outside the carriage window. When they arrived, Belle saw a gigantic mansion. It would seem the Earl of the Frontlands had a lot of money.

Gold helped her out of the carriage by offering his hand. A small boy came running down the front stairs.

“Papa! You are home!”

Gold smiled at the boy. Belle had never seen him smile like that before.

“Hello, Bae.”

The boy hugged his father. Gold nudged him to look at Belle. “Bae, may I introduce you to my wife, Lady Belle. Belle, this is my son, Baden Neal Gold.”

The boy looked at her with big brown eyes, the same colour as his father. He had black hair that was slightly curly. He seemed to be around the age of eight.

“Welcome to the Gold estate, my Lady.” Bae gave a small bow.

“Alright son, why don’t you give Lady Belle a tour of the house while I will see to her luggage being brought inside.”

Belle was slightly disappointed Gold wouldn’t be the one to lead her around, but the small boy before her was a good guide.

He showed her the drawing rooms, the dining room, the ballroom “which we never use but it’s here”, the studies, the gallery, the library (which Belle absolutely loved).

She could see herself living in this place. – Gold had made it clear to Belle they were only married in name and for financial reasons. Belle had stayed alone in her chambers on her wedding night. She knew it would be a marriage like that, but she couldn’t help being disappointed by his absence.

The days following their marriage she remained her only company. Bae was mostly occupied with his lessons with his governess. Belle took her meals alone, her walks alone in the gardens. If she encountered Gold in the corridors, he nodded briefly and hurried along. When she was in the library reading a book, he would enter, see her and walk out again.

He was avoiding her. Only, she had no idea why. – It was one winter evening when she entered the drawing room, she saw Bae play with a set of wooden soldiers in front of the fire. Gold was sitting in a chair, reading a book.

Upon seeing her, he went to sit up and close his book. Bae noticed, looking between his father and Belle.

“Papa, look at my general!”

Gold looked and nodded. “I see it, Bae.”

Belle saw an opportunity to enter the conversation.

“Can you introduce me to your soldiers, Bae? I haven’t played with soldiers ever before. Can I join?”

The boy happily showed her how to play and appointed her to be the captain of his troops while he was the general. From the corner of her eye, Belle saw how Gold was watching them. And for the first time since their wedding day, he didn’t run away. –

It was the first ball they were attending as a married couple. Belle was wearing a green dress with gold embroidered on the top. Gold was wearing a black suit with gold pin on his lapel. They matched.

It was the first time they would dance together, as was expected of the new Earl and Countess of the Frontlands.

When the dance floor cleared and a new song began, Gold took Belle’s gloved hand and brought her to the middle of the dance floor. His cane was still in his hand, but he had mentioned earlier he could still dance. Placing his hand on her waist, he started to lead the dance. Belle was careful with her steps, knowing how clumsy she was. She found they fell perfectly in sync with each other. She hardly had to take glances at her feet. The music faded away. Gold kept his gaze on her and Belle felt she could drown in those beautiful amber eyes.

When the music slowed and the dance stopped, Gold and her stood still, hands clasped together, their eyes not leaving. Belle felt her chest rise and fall as if she had run miles. His mouth was open and for the first time since her wedding day, she wanted to kiss him again. Her husband was handsome.

The clapping of people brought her back to the surface and she let go of Gold. He seemed to not know what to do with his hands. He opted to walk away, excusing himself to get her some champagne.

Belle nodded. She could use the refreshment.

She walked away to the side, off the dancefloor. She noticed how another person came to stand next to her.

“That was a beautiful dance, my Lady.” Belle looked up to see who was speaking. She did not recognize the woman. She had red hair and had blue eyes.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” She seemed vaguely familiar though.

“Oh my apologies, my name is Penelope. I am the wife of Colin Bridgerton.” She gestured to the corner with the food. “He loves a good snack in between dances.” She smiled at her husband who seemed to take an extra scone.

Belle suddenly understood. Viscount Bridgerton and his wife were the hosts of this party. Colin Bridgerton must be his brother.

“I remember us standing together once at the side of a ballroom a few years ago. Two wallflowers as they called us. And look at us now, both married. Who would have thought?”

Belle smiled, remembering the woman now. “Indeed, I certainly hadn’t seen it coming. But my father arranged it.”

Penelope cocked her head to the side. “You know, it is touching to see you and your husband so smitten with each other. The love was palpable from where everyone else was standing. You are a lucky woman.”

Belle didn’t know an answer to that. Her husband was smitten with her? Love?

Before she could open her mouth, Penelope was called by another lady.

Her husband soon joined her side again to give her the glass of champagne. Refreshments indeed. –

The weeks following the ball and the conversation with Penelope Bridgerton, Belle had noticed how Gold was more open towards her. He no longer avoided her during meals, now they took every meal together. He didn’t run away when they met in the corridor. He invited her in his study to look at his work. He even brought her tea when she was reading in the library. It was very sweet and Belle loved this small attendance. One day, she invited him to read with her. Soon they began talking about the books they were reading. Heavy discussions followed, each sharing their thoughts and opinions. Belle had never met a man who was interested in her thoughts like that. He really listened to her. And when she challenged him, it seemed like he came alive and brought more material to the table. It was wonderful.

And as his library was very large, the conversations never seemed to stop.

This afternoon he was reading from a book called Fairytales. He had opted for the story of Rumplestilskin. To make her laugh, he used silly voices and made extravagant hand gestures.

“And while you are my servant, you will skin the children I hunt.” Belle gasped, not realising the story would turn so dark and her hand that was holding her cup of tea let loose. The cup fell on the ground, spilling the tea over the carpet.

She looked in shock at her husband, while he looked almost sheepishly at her.

“That was a quip, that is not seriously on the page.” “Right,” Belle let out a sigh of relief. She looked down and realised the mess she had made. “Oh, I am so sorry,” she picked the cup up, “ it is chipped.” “It’s no matter. It’s only a cup.” Her husband set the book aside and stood up. “We can fix it.” –

Things only improved for their small family. Bae was home for the holidays and Belle loved nothing more than to sit with her husband and Bae in front of the fire reading stories. Mostly it was Gold who read, but sometimes both father and son looked at her with their big brown puppy eyes to convince her to read. She gladly did.

One evening, Bae was already gone to bed. But Belle wanted to read to her husband. So while going through the study of Gold to get the book for reading -she had left it earlier there in the day while Gold was working- she saw a letter lying on his desk.

Normally she wouldn’t look at his desk, but something about the handwriting caught her off guard. It was her father’s.

Her father had practically never let anything heard from himself after she had married Gold. So it surprised her to see a letter addressed to her husband instead of her.

She read it. And gasped.

Her father had practically sold her in turn for money to raise his standing in society. He was only letting Gold know how much money he still owned him for his daughter. It hurt to see her father write about her like that. Was she nothing more to him? A price for a suitor to be won so he could forget about her and go on about his life?

And her husband… she had known from day one she was only in this marriage for financial reasons, but still Gold had never mentioned anything about this. Was she really only a price in his eyes? She remembered how cold and distant he was in the beginning.

Confused and heartbroken, she went to sit on the settee. – Gold entered the study to see his wife distraught.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” It was the first time he used the endearment, but it slipped from his tongue.

Belle let out a sob. Suddenly, Gold saw the letter she was holding and understood.

Her father had been so cold the day he had gone to ask for Belle’s hand. He knew he was only accepted because he was an Earl. The Baron of Marchland was only too happy to accept it. But he had a price. A steep one. He had wanted everything Gold could offer him to give him the opportunity to further his social standing.

Gold knew he was being blackmailed. But he didn’t care. He realised Belle was surrounded by men who didn’t care about her at all.

He knew he was buying her and hated himself for it. He wanted to give Belle everything she deserved, but he couldn’t even do that. At least he could save her from her fate being married to Gaston. So he did pay the price.

Only, Maurice started to demand more and more money each month. It was exhausting and illegal. Gold knew that, but he was afraid and a coward. At first, he paid because he felt guilty for shackling Belle to be his wife. But lately since they had grown closer, he had realised just how much out of pocket the Baron was acting.

He was planning to put an end to it.

How to explain all of that to his wife? – Belle stared at her husband, her eyes full of tears.

“My father doesn’t care about me.” She sobbed.

“No, he doesn’t,” Gold answered. “I recognize the patterns with my own father now.” He went to sit next to her. “At first, I didn’t realise it, but it’s true.”

And he explained to her what her father had done. What he had done.

She didn’t know why everything surprised her so much. Except the story with Gaston. She had always known he was an oaf.

Gold looked at her and smiled. “I should have told you this sooner. I am sorry, Belle. It was never my intention to do this to you. I have grown to care for you so much and…,” he seemed to breathe in, “I love you. I want only to protect you.”

Belle stopped breathing. “You love me?”

He nodded. “I love you with every beat of my heart. You brought so much life into our home. With me, with Bae. I am so thankful for you, my Belle.”

Belle laughed. The tears still in her eyes, she went to hug her husband. “I love you too!”

She thought back to what Lady Penelope had said. “How is it that it took us this long to admit it to each other?”

Gold laughed. “I genuinely don’t know.” He looked serious suddenly. “May I kiss you, Belle?”

She nodded in her enthusiasm. “Yes, yes!”

And they sealed their lips again. Finally. – It was late in the night. The moonlight shone on their bed. She was finally truly married to Duncan Gold. They had shared their bodies for the first time. Belle hadn’t realised how much she had missed before. She loved being intimate with her husband. He had jokingly suggested they would only make use of one bedchamber together from now on. Still naked, they were cuddling in bed watching the windows. The curtains were still open.

It started snowing heavily.

Gold whispered in her ear. “Bae is going to love this.”

Belle laughed. “What? The snow or us being together?”

Gold kissed her ear. “ Both.”

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rumbellesecretsanta · 11 months ago

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There Can Only Ever Be

My Rumbelle Secret Santa gift for eirian-houpe.tumblr.com/

Prompt: There can only ever be

I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Over the years he stays in the shadows watching over her in case she needs him, but he soon realizes he needs her even more.

AO3: There Can Only Ever Be... - notalwayslate - Once Upon a Time (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

There can only ever be…protection.

Rumford Gold slipped into the pawnshop as his ankle throbbed from the harsh February snowfall. He was so tired that he almost missed the envelope that lay near his feet. Crouching down he snatched it from the floor. It was the wrong size to be any official city document, and too light to be a rent payment.

Curiously, he slid a finger under the flap gently tugging it open. He was surprised to pull out a pressed red rose with a small blue ribbon tied to the stem, along with a small handwritten note.

For your kindness

Belle

He stared at the note with a mixture of surprise and awe before making his way to the back of the store. He reached for the unbleached muslin fabric, a luxury he reserved for the shop’s most valuable treasures, placing a yard of it down on his desk. With trembling hands, he gently placed the pressed rose onto the fabric, along with her note.

Kindness was a gentler emotion that had long fallen by the wayside over the years, a casualty in his rise of becoming the town monster…or so he had thought. When he had seen the girl outside his shop a few days prior selling roses on Valentine’s Day in the blistering cold he felt an unwavering connection to her.

He had no doubt her father, Moe French was warmly tucked away at the Rabbit’s Hole, in a drunken haze, as his daughter tried to make ends meet for that month. He knew all too well a life with a father who shirked his responsibilities in preference for a carefree alcohol induced neverland. It had made him the cold ruthless man he was today.

He did not want the same outcome for her. She was pure hearted, and he wanted to protect the light within her before life snuffed it out.

With an overcoming surge of protectiveness, he had gone to her, buying the entire stock of flowers for double the asking price, wanting desperately to get her out of the cold.

Having not thought his plan out thoroughly, he refused to take the dozens of roses he had just purchased drawing a quizzical look.

“Give them to any desperate soul you see fit, and go get yourself warm, Ms. French,” he had instructed leaving her without a second glance.

It was not until the next day, when he entered Granny’s for a cup of coffee, did he learn the town was abuzz with chatter over his generous flower donation to Storybrooke hospital. It appeared that Ms. French was not aware that such an act of kindness did not match his monstrous reputation, or perphaps she saw something within him that others did not.

That evening as he climbed the wide grand staircase of his pink Victorian home with a heavy step, he could not help but think of Belle French. At merely twenty years old with her petite frame and twinkling innocent eyes it was hard for his desperate soul not to be drawn to her.

Her simple words of his kindness sparked a flame that burned away the cobwebs wrapped around his bitter heart. In that moment, he made a deal with himself. He would protect her from the darkness of this world and give her the freedom to escape the mundane life that awaited no matter the cost.

There can only ever be…distance.

It was not the responsibility nor cost of his decision that scared him, but the careless misjudgments she would face, if anyone ever learned he was helping her. He had to be meticulous, every plan, every action needed to be guarded with strict anonymity.

He acted quickly, crossing every T and dotting every I to get the historical Storybrooke nonprofit up and running. Months later it was announced during the city council meeting that an anonymous donation had been given for the renovation and reopening of the Storybrooke public library, along with a two-year scholarship for a future librarian.

He could not contain his sheer joy when a few weeks later his foundation received her application and personal essay for the scholarship. He knew the girl who always had a book in hand could not resist such an opportunity. He had hoped she would apply, but if not, he would have produced a thousand and one different opportunities for her until he found the right one.

A knot formed in his throat as he read the words of the vibrant beauty whose life was darkened by the silent tribulations of her mother’s passing, and her father’s addictions. Her love of books is evident as she speaks of their power and wonderment carrying her through a life of loneliness and heartbreak.

Images of her flicker through his mind, her on a park bench, her at granny’s, every time he pulls up another memory, he realizes she is always alone. He admires her isolation. His own has made him hard as a rock, but hers is more of a closed book, waiting for another to open it.

He wastes no time in selecting her for the scholarship. Knowing she will need to start classes in the fall, he uses his contacts in the restaurant and hotel industry to keep her father’s flower shop in high demand for the foreseeable future. No longer would she need to stand on the corner selling roses, as there would be an abundance of income for her father to squander away while still maintaining the bills. In two years, the library renovation would be complete, she would graduate, and he would be there to see it all from the shadows.

There can only ever be…crippling desire.

He was a monster. As hard as he tried, he could not quench the pangs of lust and desire that filled his mind and loins as he vigorously sought his own satisfaction alone in his bed. Every time he swore it would be the last, but visions of Belle’s long pale legs, and crystal blue eyes chipped away at his sanity leaving him in a sticky mess.

In hopes of tampering down his degenerative thoughts, he tries desperately to ignore her presence whenever she is near, but he cannot help but notice how her eyes light up, and a rare smile graces her lips when she sees him. He knows that she purposefully awaits his arrival Saturday mornings at Granny’s, waiting till he sits at the counter for his cup of coffee, to place down her beloved book and update Granny on her schooling so that he may hear it as well.

She is a clever girl, and he knows if anyone could dig through the mountains of paperwork to discover the identity of the anonymous donor, it would be her.

More than once he caught himself staring at her lips, wondering what her mouth tasted like. Emotionally drained from fighting his primal desires, he had no choice but to close himself off from the temptation of her. He stopped frequenting Granny’s, spending his days and nights in solitude feeling excruciatingly tired and old.

He had gone seven months without a glimpse of her until the night he heard a scuffle coming from the alleyway near the back of the pawnshop. When he went to investigate a blinding fury rushed his veins as he saw Belle struggling to break free of the grasp of Keith Nottingham. The drunken creep was no match for the ferocity of his cane, as he pummeled him blow after blow. He does not stop until he catches her frightened face out of the corner of his eye. His focus turns to her, allowing Keith to scurry away in a bloody heap.

Without warning she embraces him, and he in return wraps his arms protectively around her shoulders, ensuring her that she is safe now. He moves to pull back so he can see her face, but she squeezes him tighter to her. He can feel each of her fingers pressed tightly into the muscles of his back, as he leans his temple on the top of her head, murmuring comforting words into her hair. He does not let go until she releases him first. He takes a moment to scan over her for injuries and lets out a relieved sigh when he does not see any.

Blood roars in the hollows of his chest as he listens to her recount how she was on her way to the Rabbit Hole to check on her father, when Keith had approached her in search of a good time.

The muscle in his cheekbone twitches as he dreams of all the ways he is going to make that bastard pay for ever laying a finger on her. So consumed in his thoughts of vengeance, he is startled as her warm hand slips into his own.

“But I’m okay,” she reassures him clearly sensing the frenzied tension radiating from him. “Thanks to you.”

Gazing upon her heavenly face, guilt seeps into his bones. It was his job to protect her, but how could he do so efficiently when he also had to protect her from himself.

“You need not worry about your father. Leroy knows to contact me if Moe gets…” his words tamper on his lips, as her brows furrow together in confusion from the revelation. Tilting his head to the sky, he looks toward the stars, cursing his loose tongue. He never wanted her to know that to ease her burden, he had a set ears and eyes on her father’s indiscretions.

“Can you call Leroy and see if he is, okay? It is just…,” he watches her chew on her bottom lip struggling to continue. “It’s the 10th anniversary of my mother’s death, and I know how hard it can be for him.”

Closing his eyes he nods silently, relieved that she did not immediately hurl disgust and accusations upon him for his stalker intrusion into her family life. Pulling out his flip phone, he calls Leroy.

“Where is he?” he asks acutely aware of her worried gaze upon him. He can hear the low murmurs of the bar in the background, as Leroy provides an update. Hanging up, he informs her that her father will be home shortly, safe and in one piece.

He could sense her mind was flickering with so many questions, but she gave not one a voice. Instead, he found himself in her arms of gratitude once more. The hairs on the back of his neck stand upright and his heart races at the feel of her pressed tightly against him. It is he who pulls back from her this time, wrestling for self-control.

She had just experienced a traumatic event and was merely looking to him for comfort, and here he was trying to tame the growing erection in his pants. He could feel his resolve crumbling, and knew he had to get her home safely before he or his tented crotch revealed his true feelings for her.

He would have gladly walked behind her giving her a wide enough berth as to not taint her reputation, however she chose to walk along side of him.

His mouth forms a small sheepish smile as he watches their shadows move together in time along the pavement. It had been so long since he heard her voice that his ears soaked up every syllable as she mutters of her upcoming graduation, and the library’s opening.

All too soon they reach her home above the flower shop. With a sigh he runs his hand through his hair forcing a painful smile, knowing that his time with her has come to an end.

There is a curious note to her voice, a barely hidden hope lingering beneath, when she asks,

“Mr. Gold…would you...” her words are cut off by slurred hooting and laughter in the distance.

Turning his head, he could make out Leroy’s small figure holding up a clearly inebriated Moe French. The sight soothes his worry that she will not venture out again that night in search of her father. With a curt bow, he bids her farewell, pretending not to see her eyes, searching his own with his fleeting glance.

That night as he lay in his bed, his mind pondered what it was she was going to ask him. He thought of her rosy, red cheeks, and the adoring innocent gleam of something more in her eyes when she had gazed upon him that night. As much as his heart dreaded it, he knew what needed to be done.

There can only ever be…goodbye.

He was there when she graduated. A silent shadow in the stands mixed among a hundred other faces. He watched in awe as she took her first step towards a new life with her diploma in hand. Her father and others gathered around her in congratulations after the ceremony, but he kept his distance.

It was a month later that the tiny town of Storybrooke gathered around Main Street in anticipation of the grand opening of the Storybrooke Library. Mayor Mills was there of course, forever camera ready to cut the ribbon and take credit for the entire project that he had funded. He did not care really, he did not do it for the spotlight, he had done it for Belle.

Peeking through the blinds, he could see her, in a dress of blue standing on the stage with the mayor. Although she was smiling, he could see a gleam of sadness in her eyes, as she scanned the crowd. His breath hitched at the sight, and deep in his heart he knew she was searching for him.

He cast his eyes downward ashamed that he was too much of a coward to attend. Turning, he shuffled to the backroom, where balls of crumpled paper lay littered across the floor. Running a hand down his face, he tried in vain to wipe away his fatigue. He had stayed up much of the previous night, putting pen to paper, searching for the right words to let her go. He had given her his kindness, and protection, and now it was time to give her freedom.

Sitting back down at his desk, he was lost as the faint scratch of his pen against the paper consumed him for the next hour or so. He growled in frustration, and he waded up his latest feeble attempt, tossing it to the floor, before slamming his head down to rest atop his arms in exhaustion. He hears the bell ring above his shop door, and the click of heels approaching. He snaps his head up, just in time to see Belle pulling back the curtain.

“Mr. Gold?” she calls for him, her voice laced in concern.

He ungracefully flounders in his chair before stumbling up to stand.

Her eyes gaze around the disheveled state of the room, before landing on him.

“I’m sorry,” is all he can think of saying.

“No, I should be the one who’s sorry, I didn’t mean to just burst in here, but it’s just you weren’t at the dedication today, and” she pauses a moment before her doleful eyes bore into his. “You weren’t there.”

His heart yearns to go to her, show her the briefest bit of comfort. It was clear by the look on her face, how hurt she was by his absence. This had gone too far. Despite his best wishes he had distorted her sweet soul into believing he was anything worthy of her time and affection. He had to end this now. He swallowed the bile in his throat, looking down, as he did not have the resolve to face her.

“Oh, was that today,” he waves his hand as though it was inconsequential, “Dearie, I find it wholly inappropriate that you…”

“Mr. Gold?” she gasps, cutting off his cruelty.

He looks up, to see her gaping in astonishment, at the pressed rose and handwritten note, displayed on a pedestal in the corner of the room.

Closing his eyes, he shook his head knowing he was exposed.

“You…,” he can hear her voice crack with emotion but still cannot force himself to look up. “You still have it.”

He shakes his head dumbly. “Yes, and now you must go.”

“Why?” she asks, her voice raw with emotion.

He turns from her with a thousand excuses to her question at the tip of his tongue, but he settles for the truth.

“Because I am a monster.”

He felt the weight of her hand on his shoulder, coaxing him to face her. With great reluctance he turns as a ripple of warmth courses through him as her lips find his in a soft feathery kiss.

As she pulls back, he feels the tears rolling down his cheek.

“You don’t owe me anything Belle.”

Her long and delicate fingers trace the lines and angles of his face, as her radiant smile captivates him.

“I know.”

It was a foreign feeling to be looked upon with such an adoring gaze. He had fought pulling her into his world for so long, that he never considered she would pull him into hers.

He reaches up cupping the back of her neck with his hand as she willingly moves forward locking her lips to his.

There can only ever be…her.

Clutching the small velvet box he tiptoes across the cabin floor, kneeling at her bedside. He gingerly reaches his knuckles out to caress her cheek. She stirs as the blanket shifts down her naked form. He holds a breath of anticipation as her glistening blue eyes lazily flutter open, as she greets his presence with a warm smile.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart,” he whispers, plucking a kiss from her pink lips.

He still cannot believe any of this is real. Ever since that night at his pawn shop 8 months ago, they have been inseparable. Although her father, along with most of the town, granted them no acceptance, they found a peaceful solace in each other’s arms.

Night after night, with her head nestled beneath his chin, her heartbeat drowned out all the inner turmoil that once plagued his sleep. His thoughts are now consumed only by her, and the future he craves, more than his next breath.

Hands shaking, he places the box on the mattress, as her startled eyes gaze upon it. He has practiced the words for weeks but in the moment, as he gazes into the blue eyes that have become his home, he cannot wait a second more to utter those four words.

“Will you marry me?”

His question was instantly answered as her yes echoed in his ears filling him with the warmth of a thousand suns. He had only a moment to slip the ring on her finger, before she was entangled in his arms. He feels her pulse drumming beneath her skin, her heartbeat against his ribs. His hands rake over her naked body with an eager hungriness.

Her mouth is on his, as their bodies tumble backwards onto the bed. Entwined and locked together her moans are echoed by his own. Begs of harder and faster fill his ears, a need that he devotedly complies with.

Her fingers entangled in his hair, her new ring digging into the back of his head, the new sensation bringing him closer to the edge. With one last thrust he falls into a sensation of unrivalled euphoria as she reaches her own bliss.

Panting he moves to her side, his arms wrapped protectively around her as she snuggles into his chest. No words are spoken as she raises her hand gazing at the ring. His heart swells with emotion, and he cannot wait for her claim to be on his finger soon.

From this moment on, there can only ever be forever.

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rumbellesecretsanta · 11 months ago

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They Said It Was A Party

Prompt: Rivaling another magical power couple.

Hello @cartoonjessie ! It's me! I am Santa! Here is your gift, which is not late! To Ao3 you go!

Mr. Gold, an old acquaintance of the Mills family, and Belle French, a definite outsider, attend a holiday dinner for the rich and infamous.

"It's lovely."

The decor was a little different every time. But always tasteful. Now, there were twinkling lights and silvery ribbons as a nod to the holiday season. The odd spray of greenery or drape of a garland. But there was a chill in the air. One that had nothing to do with the temperature. Inside, or out, on the wind-whipped, snow-covered lawn.

It was chilly and impersonal in the house. Cora had that effect. If Gold hadn't visited the house before, he'd think she was renting the ground floor as a venue for her intimate dinner parties.

Like this one.

Though intimate dinner party really meant show of power.

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rumbellesecretsanta · 11 months ago

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Finding the Fun - RSS 2023 Fic

Hello @of-princes-and-savages I am your Secret Santa and damn was this a labor of love! The flu almost stopped me, but I said "not today infectious demon, I have a gift to complete." So without further ado, I hope you enjoy this kinda angsty, mostly fluffy, with just a hint of smut Rumbelle fic.

I will also post it to Ao3, but probably not until tomorrow and I wanted to make sure I got this to you today. So, feel free to read it below....

Summary: Belle and Rumple are settled in Storybrooke with two year-old Gideon. One night, Belle has a mishap and it inspires the couple to try and bring back the fun into their relationship.

Notes: This is a little bit AU, because after Gideon is turned back into a baby, the family stays in Storybrooke instead of traveling realms. So magic exists and all of the characters' history is the same but I’m glossing over the whole “Rumple needs to break his Dark One curse” thing. Also, I researched it and baby deer walk 7 hours after being born. - That’ll make sense when you read it.

Well, this wasn’t the oddest position Rumple had ever found Belle in.

There was the time in the Dark Castle when he’d found her perched high up on a ladder tugging on the window curtains trying to let light into the room. He’d been about to chide her, because it was called the dark castle for a reason, but she’d lost her balance and fell right into his arms. There were many other “Belle mishaps” (as he liked to call them) to choose from, but the ladder was his favorite. He’d ended up with his arms full of a beautiful woman, the sun shining down on him like a spotlight and she hadn’t looked at him with repulsion. Instead he saw curiosity and kindness in her bright blue eyes. He didn’t know it then, but that was the beginning of his love for her.

Currently, he was leaning against the doorframe of their son Gideon’s room. The hallway light behind him cast a luminous glow over the scene inside. Belle was fast asleep propped up by the headboard of their two year-old son’s bed. Gideon was cradled in her lap, equally fast asleep, his head resting against her bosom. He could tell even from across the room that Gideon’s breathing was a bit labored, and he could hear the occasional sniffle from what was undoubtedly a stuffy nose.

Ah, Gideon finally caught a cold from one of the other children at daycare. Well it was bound to happen at some point. An autumn chill had recently swept through Storybrooke and with it inevitably came runny noses and germ-laden hands.

But his beautiful wife comforting their son wasn’t the ‘odd’ part of this tableau. It was what she was wearing. Rumple’s eyes trailed up her legs. They were covered in sheer black stockings and just a peek of a garter belt could be seen high up her thigh. He could just make out a pair of matching panties trimmed in scallop lace before Gideon’s little body hid the rest from view. His gaze continued to drift upward to her top. It was a thin and rather ragged sweatshirt with the words Storybrooke Library stamped upon it. It even looked like she’d done her makeup more than usual. Her eyes were darkly lined with a winged effect and her lips were a luscious merlot color.

He tried to bite back a chuckle. Belle had sent him out for a bottle of wine and there had been a wicked gleam in her eyes. It appears Belle’s plans for a seduction had been rudely and quite suddenly interrupted by Gideon’s head-cold.

Rumple gently closed the door and made his way to their bedroom where he was met with more evidence of Belle’s thwarted seduction. Hanging off the side of their bed was a black corset covered in a black scallop lace just matching her panties. The drawers of their dresser were all pulled out with clothing spilling out of them and several items strewn across the floor. The male part of him groaned at the missed opportunity. The rest of him had a good laugh while he cleaned up the room.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Belle stumbled down the hallway like a baby deer fresh from the womb. Her legs had fallen asleep while keeping Gideon propped up on her lap. Poor little Gid had woken up crying and panicked because he couldn’t breathe through his nose. He didn’t understand that it was just a cold, and he kept pointing to his nose crying “no no no.” Once she was able to calm him down they’d sat in the bathroom with the shower steaming to help loosen his stuffed sinuses followed by a small dose of cough medicine. He still hadn’t been able to sleep without Belle propping him up making it easier for him to breathe. Thank gods toddlers don’t care what their moms look like as long they’re there, because Belle looked very different than usual.

The house was already dark so it must be late. It was always disorienting leaving Gideon’s room after sleeping with him. It felt like his room existed outside of time and space; the white noise machine, the complete darkness he needed for sleep (he must get it from Rumple), the cozy warmth of his body when he insists on snuggling until he drifts off. It all effectively shuts out the world. So when Belle tiptoes out the door, it always takes her a long time to orient herself to the sounds, the light, and the cold of the real world. She has absolutely no idea what time it is. It could be tomorrow for all she knows.

She makes her way into the kitchen trying to quietly make some tea before she puts herself to bed. The feeling is back in her legs because she definitely felt the chair she just knocked into which, of course, clattered to the floor. The sound echoing throughout the first floor of the house. With a great huff she slouched against the kitchen counter. So much for quiet.

“Well well well. What do we have here?”

Belle jumped with a little shriek turning around to meet the very amused eyes of Rumple.

“Rumple!” She pressed her hand to her heart, “You scared me.”

He shrugged and swaggered towards her pulling her into his arms. He was dressed for bed in his deep blue silk pajama set with a matching robe. The contrast in their attire was very apparent. Most of Belle’s makeup was rubbed off and her hair was a frizzy, tangled mess from the shower steam. She looked up to see Rumple biting back an amused smile. The glee on his face made him look like the imp she’d known during their time in the Dark Castle together. Despite her embarrassment, she found her heart chuckling inside of her along with him. It had been a long time since she’d seen him find something funny other than from sinister irony.

His voice was quiet and laughing when he asked, “Would you like to tell me about your evening?”

“Only if you make me some tea.”

“Deal,” he said, and with a peck on her forehead, left her arms to tend to the kettle.

Belle picked up the chair from the floor and settled herself into it. She pulled a leg up under herself, and the silky slipperiness of her stockings made her grimace. The stockings weren’t made to withstand a steam bath and restless toddler feet snagging on them. They were designed to carefully encase each leg and then dramatically shown off in a big reveal that raises blood pressure (in addition to other things), maybe a short session of eye-fucking, and then finally are peeled off in favor of more naked activities.

“I should get changed,” she muttered to herself.

“And deprive me of the sexy sight before me?”

She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Obviously this was not what I was going for. Gideon woke up with a cold and it all went downhill from there.”

Rumple set the tea tray on the table, and reached for her clasped hands. “I’m sorry sweetheart. Is Gid ok?”

“Yeah he’ll be fine. I think it scared him more than anything.”

Rumple sat across from her still holding her hand. “I suppose you can’t really explain to a two year-old what a head cold is.”

“Not really.”

“I wasn’t laughing at you. The situation is just….”

“Funny.” Belle supplied with a smirk. “I know. It is. It really is.” She fiddled with Rumple’s finger while trying to shake off the feelings of disappointment and frustration. With his free hand, Rumple began to fix their tea trying to pour hot water into the teapot without spilling. When Belle noticed his adorable attempt to make tea one-handed she released his fingers and clasped her own together in her lap.

For two years they’ve been trying to heal together. They are both in individual therapy and in couples therapy. Even little Gideon went to play therapy once per month. Now that he is starting to develop his own sense of self they wanted to make sure Gideon had extra support in case their were residual effects from his time in the Dark Realm and…well, from everything else that had happened to him. Because so much had happened. Sometimes it felt like too much. All of the curses, all of the betrayals, and secrets. There were times early on when Belle couldn’t imagine their little family ever being happy together.

Now, she sees glimmers of hope everywhere. In the way Rumple holds onto her hand even if he needs it back to make their tea; in the way he packs extra snacks in Gideon’s daycare bag “just in case he’s hungrier than usual;” in the way he tells her every single time he has a craving to misuse magic, and instead they talk together until a non-magical solution can be found.

So tonight she had wanted to create something special for him — ok, for them. Not that they hadn’t had sex in the past two years, but this was intended to be different. She wanted to play and have fun. It had been such a long time since they’d just had fun. She thought bringing that playfulness into the bedroom would in turn bring it back into their relationship on a whole.

Rumple sat her teacup in front of her and she grabbed his hand before he could pull away. He looked up a bit surprised at her earnestness.

“I….” She started. “I….” She sighed. She didn’t know how to say it. How to explain what she had imagined for their night together. The simple explanation was not so simple anymore. She closed her eyes and tried to remember what Dr. Hopper had coached.

The emotions behind a simple situation make it feel complicated. Un-complicate it by first stating the facts out loud.

Belle’s blue eyes pierced into Rumple’s. He could see her internal fight, but was mystified as to what it was about. His first instinct was to jump into the conversation and try to fix it, but he knew that wasn’t what she needed. He has a penchant for trying to fix everything and anything for the ones he loves. After hundreds of years and lots of therapy he’s finally curbing that instinct.

You don’t have to fix everything. You just have to be present, listen, and then, if Belle asks for your help, you can work together towards a solution .

Finally Belle blew out a long breath and an even longer stream of words.

“After Gideon went to bed, I sent you out for a bottle of wine even though we have a full wine cellar. I went to our room, put on makeup like Lacey used to wear, and then started changing into some sexy lingerie that I bought specially for tonight. Then everything with Gideon happened — ” she pulled her hands apart and spread her fingers wide as if she could grab Gideon’s untimely cold from the past and show it to him like a picture book at a children’s story hour.

Once the facts are stated begin listing your feelings. Don’t go into the cause or the reasons for the feelings. State just the feelings.

“— and I am frustrated, disappointed, annoyed, embarrassed, and exhausted. Ok, I don’t know if ‘exhausted’ is technically a feeling but if it’s not it should be.”

Rumple brought his teacup to his mouth gently blowing over the hot liquid’s surface. A bubble of quiet contemplation settled around the table. He and Belle had been diligently working to keep their family together which meant they lived a sedate and routine-oriented lifestyle.

“Sweetheart, not that I’m complaining, but may I ask what brought this on?”

Belle groaned internally, because of course that was his response. Any sane person would ask that question. Except most people would say something like ‘why did you suddenly decide to act out a cheesy seduction on a Wednesday night?’

Belle fiddled with the tiny handle of her teacup while her mind swirled with words creating half-explanations none of which would make sense to anyone outside of herself. Several times her mouth opened to say something but all she could accomplish was looking pleadingly at Rumple with big pitiful eyes. He grasped her limp hands and held them tight.

“Belle…is there something -”

“-I’m bored!” She blurted out.

They blinked at each other both surprised for very different reasons.

“Oh”

“No, not in that way. Not bored of our relationship. I’m not unhappy. I cannot stress that enough.”

“…ok.” To his credit Rumple’s grip on Belle’s hands didn’t lessen. “But you’re bored.” He stated it like it was one of the many facts of their life together; Gideon doesn’t like peas, Rumple is the Dark One, and Belle is bored.

“I miss the fun part of our relationship,” and even as Belle said it she winced, because in truth there relationship history wasn’t riddled with lighthearted moments. “I want there to be a ‘fun’ aspect to our relationship.”

“Fun.” Rumple repeated it like it was the first time he’d ever said the word in his life. “Well, I’m not entirely certain what to do about that. Should I do something?”

Belle face glowed with warmth and happiness. The Rumple from only a few years ago would’ve never asked if he ‘should’ do something. He would’ve spent days and weeks plotting and planning without consulting her, and then revealed something ‘fun.’

“Let me try to come up with something and if it doesn’t work out then you can take a crack at it.”

“If its any consolation, what you came up with looked like it would’ve been spectacular.” Rumple placed a kiss on her hand and leaned in close, “Parental responsibilities simply got in the way.”

“So much for spontaneity.” Belle leaned in bringing her lips to his intending for a quick kiss, but the forward momentum of her body kept their lips locked together. She opened her mouth ever so slightly and Rumple’s fingers cupped her chin keeping her steady while the tip of his tongue gently caressed and coaxed hers. She exhaled and sank deeper into their kiss enjoying the comforting familiarity of it, and grateful that even after all these years her lips still tingled with excitement when he kissed her. When a natural break from the need to breathe inserted itself, Belle leaned back in her chair feeling cautiously excited about this new endeavor.

———————————————-

This. Is. So. Horrible.

Belle wished it was physically possible to impale herself on the tiny dessert fork before her. The shiny object was sitting next to a plate of pears gorgeously poached in a spiced red wine reduction, and yet the only thought running through her brain (aside from suicide by fork) was her gratitude that the dessert course had finally arrived.

Gusteau’s was one of the newer restaurants that popped up in Storybrooke after the Black Fairy had been defeated. A quiet curse-free existence seemed possible for the first time and many of the town’s citizens were investing in their hopes and dreams again. Resulting in many new businesses and restaurants opening their doors.

Gusteau’s was the prime example of a fine dining experience. Heavy beautifully carved furniture was spaced evenly throughout the restaurant and crisp white linens covered the tables. Each tabletop was adorned with a low vase of roses and a miniature lamp that cast just enough light that one could comfortably gaze upon their dining companion. The room on a whole was swathed in heavy, rich fabrics and carpeted to dampen the foot tread of the wait staff as they hurried from table to kitchen and back again.

Belle thought, at the time, it was the perfect idea for a fun night out. Gideon was enjoying a play date at the Nolan’s house. Their little boy Neal was a few years older, but he played well with Gideon always making sure to keep their games at a pace suited to a toddler. He had the sweet nature of his namesake and seemed to favor Gideon especially. More importantly, it meant their own house was unoccupied. While preparing for their evening out, Belle had visions of an elegant dinner enjoying sumptuous food and good conversation accompanied by just a tad too much wine. Maybe they would take a stroll in the crisp evening air by the water. She loved the mystery of the sea at night. It was a thrilling contrast, hearing the water churning against the docked boats, but the black night obscuring it from view. Once they were thoroughly chilled to their bones they would warm each other in front of their fireplace finding bliss in the comfort of their own home.

But now…..

She just wanted to go home, throw on some leggings, and crawl into bed until the morning when they would go retrieve Gid. Hopefully he was having a better night.

Rumple was twisting the stem of his glass of port between his fingers. They’d both given up trying to keep the conversation from stagnating. It hadn’t occurred to her that after hours of talk therapy they wouldn’t have anything to talk about. They started off the evening talking about Gideon - that was inevitable - and then Rumple’s shop and the library, but once those topics had been exhausted, neither of them knew where to direct the conversation next. They were in each other’s lives every day. There wasn’t much more to say that hadn’t already been said at the breakfast table that morning. And Rumple tried, he really did, but gods help them at one point he even commented on the weather. It’s colder than usual for this time of year…. That was it. It hadn’t even been something substantial about the weather that Belle could verbally latch onto and run with.

So now she was left staring at her dessert like it was the saddest sight in the world. Resolutely, she picked up her dessert fork and (choosing life) cut into one of the pears. As the warm flavors of cinnamon and nutmeg burst in her mouth, she tried to think of something to say.

“How is the port?” She reluctantly let the question escape her lips, but before Rumple could answer, a cheerful giggling from the adjacent table captured their attention.

Squinting, Belle could make out a very young couple, in their teens, not-so-secretly passing a silver flask between them under the table. Each time the girl took a small sip she laughed producing a delightful jingling sound and the boy looked at her like she was the sweetest thing on this earth. They were tucked together at the table experiencing their first foray into ‘adult’ dating and all that it entails — soft candlelight, fancy food and clothing, and hushed serious tones. But like most teens their natural enthusiasm for being unleashed on the world could’t be tamped down. They awkwardly held hands and fussed with their cutlery as they waited for their next course. They talked just a bit too loud.

Belle’s mind jolted with memories, but she quickly realized they weren’t her memories. They were Lacey’s. Like a book she read long ago and could only recall small portions of the story, Lacey’s memories were vague and full of feeling more than specifics. However, in this moment, she could recall ‘memories’ of Lacey as a fresh teen going to parties and playing drinking games with her peers. She could feel the thrill of drinking alcohol like an adult. Mostly she remembered laughter. Laughing while a bottle spun round and round between her circle of friends; anticipating the person it would choose for her next kiss. Laughing when she proclaimed “Never have I ever…” and watching her friends sheepishly drink a shot and admitting to some embarrassing deed. Lacey’s nights out as a teen were a strange mixture of vulnerability and….fun. Belle could confidently guess that Rumple’s cursed memories didn’t contain anything like Lacey’s shenanigans, and she was positive he’d never participated in even the simple games children played in Fairytale Land.

She reached across the table and took the glass of port from Rumple’s fingers. Gaining his attention, he seemed dazed like a schoolboy caught daydreaming during his lessons, Belle took a big breath and smiled at him. It was time to breathe some life back into this half-dead date.

“Let’s get the check and then I want you to come with me, but before you do, I need you to promise me one thing.”

Rumple’s eyebrows raised at that. They tried not to practice in promises. They were still learning their own limitations as a couple and making promises could be dangerous.

“Belle, sweetheart, are you sure?”

“Trust me. Promise that you’ll keep an open mind.” She tried to infuse her smile with as much assurance as possible.

“Ok, darling” Belle almost missed the sigh that accompanied it, but she wouldn’t be deterred. This was a situation of her own making and she needed to fix it.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The rush of wind was wonderfully refreshing. It was just what they needed after the heavy warmth of the restaurant. Belle had insisted on walking through town. They could get the car later. Rumple had never been happier to be cold, because it meant Belle was snuggled tight into his side. The small table at which they’d been seated at Gusteau’s made it feel like he was trying to hold a conversation with someone on the opposite side of a football field. No matter how hard he’d tried to keep the flow of conversation going it was inundated with long pauses and stilted answers. It’d been excruciating. He’d felt like he was failing Belle with each course serving more awkward pauses than the last until finally dessert was served with outright silence.

Another gust of wind blew back the flaps of his coat, and he tugged them closer around him and his beloved Belle. They stood by the harbor looking out into the vast darkness of the sea. Belle was practically molded to him. He buried his face in her thick auburn tresses, once darker and curly they had straightened into waves with age, but it didn’t matter. He loved her no matter what. After all, he had changed too - his hair had been chopped short by his own hand. He was sometimes self-conscious of the change he’d made, but as if she could read his thoughts, at those times Belle would take the opportunity to gently massage his scalp letting her fingers slip and slide through his shorn greying hair. How he loved her. It was the reason he was so panicked about their lackluster evening - she was bored. She wanted to have fun, but honestly Rumple wasn’t sure he was capable of such a thing. His life hadn’t exactly been built on the idea of carefree joy. His parents had abandoned him and, until Belle came along, so had everyone else either by death, circumstance, or outright choice. What did he know about fun?

Belle turned in his arms nuzzling the smooth skin of his jawline which then turned into small kisses and nibbles. The biting cold and Belle’s amorous affection had him fighting for breath.

“Is this the part where I’m supposed to ‘keep an open mind’?”

Chuckling, Belle murmured, “Not quite.” She pulled back a fraction so she could see his face, “Have you ever heard of Truth or Dare?”

Rumple faltered for a reply. “Uh…yes, it’s some kind of game teenagers in this realm like to play.” He couldn’t keep the perplexed look off his face.

“Yes!” She hugged him tighter and he could feel her jump up and down a little. “I think we should play it.” His comically stunned face urged her to add, “I’ll even go first.”

“Why. Why do you want to play Truth or Dare? Darling we’re a bit old for such things.”

“Nonsense.” Her prim response was accompanied by a tug on his tie. “I think it’s just what we need.”

At Rumple’s raised eyebrows, she continued, “I think we are talked out. We need something fun to do. And unless you want to suddenly become more social and do a…” she floundered for an example, “a pottery class together or some other group activity, then I think playing some silly games together is just what we need!”

Rumple still looked unconvinced.

“Please, Rumple. Try. For me.”

And that was the straw breaking the camel’s back. They both knew he couldn’t deny her this. She never asked for much in their relationship, and how could he say no to a simple game? Even one that was excruciatingly juvenile. A great huff escaped him and after one long exaggerated groan, that made her giggle, he said, “ok ok. But you go first.”

Belle straightened up expectedly. “Ok, ask me!”

With an endearing smile, Rumple muttered, “Truth or Dare?”

“Truth!”

Rumple moved Belle to his side and kept them walking along the pier. He pursed his lips and swayed his head playing at putting some serious consideration into the devious question he would ask. The question she would have no choice but to answer with complete honesty. Rolling her eyes at the theatrics, Belle waited with bated breath.

“What is the last lie you told?”

Belle snapped her head up in surprise. She really should’ve known that the infamous Rumpelstiltskin, wordsmith extraordinaire, would’ve chosen a question meant to disarm her. The look of smug satisfaction on his face made her want to kiss it right off him, but that could wait.

“Hmmm I don’t lie very often.”

“Well you’re a saint, darling, but try your hardest to think of something.”

Ignoring his sarcasm, Belle answered, “Last week at Granny’s, Snow and Red were arguing about how often a couple should have sex. I happened to walk in for a cup of tea, and somehow got trapped in the conversation.” At this Rumple snorted and Belle elbowed him in the ribs, “Anyway,” she said pointedly, “Snow was saying that after a couple has children, they’ll be lucky to have sex every few months! She expected me to agree, and well….clearly she and David are going through a dry spell and I didn’t want to make her feel bad…..so I just kind of smiled and didn’t disagree with her.”

“That’s it? A lie of omission?”

“It’s still a lie.”

“Barely.”

“Oh please, it counts and you, sir,” she pointed a manicured finger at him, “are filled with glee to know that we’re having more sex than the king and queen.”

Rumple chuckled and played at trying to bite her finger.

“Your turn! Truth or Dare?” The sparkle in Belle’s eyes made playing this ridiculous game worth it.

“Dare”

“I dare you……to sneak into Granny’s Diner and leave three hundred and fifty dollars in the tip jar. You mustn’t be seen and you can’t use magic.”

“Absolutely not.”

“You have to! That’s the game.”

“What makes you think I have that large amount of money on me.”

“…….”

“Ok. I have that amount, but I don’t see why I should give it to — wait. Is it possible Granny is having trouble making rent this month?”

Belle arranged her face into what she hoped was the picture of innocence. “Life is full of possibilities.”

“Uh huh, only you my dearest Belle could take what’s supposed to be a devious game and turn it into a tool for good deeds.”

“It’s a gift.”

“I only have hundred dollar bills on me. Do you have change?”

“No, but I’m happy to amend the dare from three fifty to four hundred.”

“How flexible of you.”

Belle grinned and grabbed the collar of his coat pulling him down for a kiss designed to leave him breathless. She pressed her body against his and sunk her fingertips into his hair pulling on the short locks. When she let him up for air, she whispered, “Complete your task and, maybe afterwards, I’ll show you just how flexible I can be.”

Without giving him a chance to blink, she pulled away and walked ahead of him. If she hadn’t been wearing such high heels he was certain she’d be skipping. Rumple just stood there reminding himself how to breathe and with a shake of his head thought, So this is what it feels like to know you’re being manipulated and not care in the least.

— - - - - - - - - - - - - -

In the end, the dare was quite easy to accomplish. At that time of night Granny’s only had a few patrons, thankfully the kind that liked to keep to themselves, and the only people working were a short-order cook and Granny herself. The plan had been to wait until Granny went into the back, and then Rumple would quietly walk through the front door, slip the money into the tip jar, and continue out the back door where Belle would be waiting.

But as Rumple waited just outside the front door for the opportune moment, a giant crash could be heard and Granny went running to the back of the building.Before Rumple could register what was happening, he saw Belle scurrying down the street and Granny in the back yelling something about “damned raccoons.” Knowing it was now or never, Rumple whipped open the door, ran towards the tip jar sitting innocuously next to the cash register, and it wasn’t so much that he stopped at the counter rather that the counter stopped him—his custom-made Italian shoes weren’t made for quick movements on freshly mopped floors. So after slamming into the counter, he hastily shoved the cash into the jar, and hightailed it back out the front door.

Miraculously, no one saw him.

He found Belle hiding next to the pharmacy doubled over with snorts of laughter muffled by her hands. Her feet were bare and she was holding onto only one of her shoes. She tried to explain between giant huffs of laughter, but Rumple simply held up a hand and said, “Belle mishap.” Before Belle could ask what that meant, he gathered her in his arms and snapping his fingers *poofed* them back to their house in a cloud of magic.

Belle was still giggling as they stumbled into their entryway kissing and pawing at each others clothing. Rumple wasn’t one to let other’s emotions effect him, but Belle’s joy swept them up creating an elation he’d never known before. They landed in front of the fireplace which had magically been lit and several fluffy blankets and pillows spread out before it.

Smiling like a fool, Rumple pecked kisses over Belle’s body as more and more skin was revealed to him. Her lingerie was nothing like the black corset ensemble he’d missed out on. Instead she wore a sheer forest green bralette with matching hip hugging panties. It was staggering in its simplicity, highlighting the fairness of her skin and giving her curves freedom to move. He delighted in it; kissing and biting and even tickling the spots he knew were most sensitive. Between breathy laughs Belle managed to divest Rumple of his own clothes, and they took their time reveling in each other.

Their previous lovemaking had been permeated with an intense need to show their love and devotion with their bodies. Trying to make up for all the past hurt by clinging to each other while they physically connected as close as possible for two humans to be. But this time was about joy and happiness. Their was no rush to reach their bliss. It would most certainly come, but this was about loving each other with light not darkness. Belle found a few of Rumple’s ticklish spots and for a moment lovemaking was paused in favor of a naked tickle fight until one of Belle’s legs ended up hooking over Rumple’s shoulder putting them in a delicious position that neither could pass up. With mirth in their eyes, a wordless conversation passed between them about Belle’s promised flexibility.

They rocked together at a rhythm they both knew so well. The familiarity was far from boring. Instead they loved each other with gratitude as deep as their kisses. They were so lucky to know each other this well and for this long. The happiness on Belle’s face was mirrored by his own. It felt like sunlight surrounded them and clear blue skies were reflected in Belle’s eyes. Rumple realized that this was what fun was - it was turning your face towards the sun even on a cloudy day. It was actively finding joy and laughter, and if you can’t find it, you make it. Just like Belle did.

Afterwards, they lounged by the fire enjoying lazy kisses and caresses. They teased each other about the horrendous dinner they endured, and Belle told him about Lacey’s memories saving their date night.

“So what other games does little Lacey remember?”

Belle thought for a moment before ticking off her fingers, “Well there’s Spin the Bottle, Seven Minutes in Heaven, Never Have I Ever-”

“Hmmm group games,” Rumple grumbled.

“We could play Two Truths and A Lie.”

“You would dare play a game that requires deception with words with Rumpelstiltskin?”

“Oh I think I could manage.”

Rumple tutted and pinched her side making Belle squeak, “Ok, but you go first.”

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