#author: Aurifer

[rumbelleshowdown]

Author: Aurifer

Group: Final

Prompts: Forbidden. Shared custody. Light in her eyes.

-

wheel of the seasons

Equinox

"The sun has almost set."

"Maybe they were delayed."

"Maybe they won't make it at all!"

Belle wasn't sure where the words, spoken in a hopeful whisper, had come from, but she still shot a glare in the general direction of the speakers. Nobody noticed, of course, and maybe that was for the best. Belle had her reasons for hoping the Ereboi would not miss the Passing of the Seasons, but her fellow courtiers hardly shared them and would have asked awkward questions if they had noticed her state of mind.

He's going to come, she told herself firmly. He always does.

The sun dipped below the horizon and even Belle's stalwart optimism was beginning to fade, when she noticed the hush falling over the crowd.

She knew who they had sent, even before the whispers started, and she had to force herself to keep still, not to push her way to the front of the crowd. They couldn't afford carelessness.

Instead, she listened and tried, as casually as possible, to catch a glimpse of him across the room. The whispers had reached her now. They'd sent the Dark One, people muttered. The Beast of Erebos. The worst monster at a court filled with monsters.

Belle had grown up on all those same stories, but she had reason to suspect that Erebos was little better or worse than their own kingdom. Centuries of bitter wars and brittle ceasefires that could never quite be called peace didn't make for a flattering picture of the enemy. She wondered what the children in Erebos were taught about their counterparts in Hemera, then tore her thoughts away from the topic.

The bitter mutterings of her fellow courtiers fell away the moment Belle caught a glimpse of the emissary, who had dropped into a shallow bow before the royal thrones. Somehow, he managed to make even this gesture of respect look sarcastic.

"Your Majesties," he said, voice pitched high, as if perpetually on the verge of a mocking laugh.

"Dark One," Queen Snow replied. She did her best to appear civil, though with little success. Even from her position, Belle could hear the Queen's disapproving sneer.

Rumplestiltskin rose from his bow without waiting for the sign to do so. "The Court of Erebos sends its greetings," he said, "and thanks you for your stewardship of the Season's Crown."

More mutterings. Technically, both courts had equal claims to the crown and its immense reserves of magic. The current arrangement of switching stewardship on the equinox was one of the shaky pillars their current state of peace was built upon, but it was seen as bad form to point it out so blatantly.

Just as Belle was about to retreat from the audience chamber—this trading of barbs could go on for quite some time—when Rumplestiltskin's gaze darted to the side and instantly found hers. For the briefest moment, something like warmth flickered across those cold golden eyes, but it was gone as soon as he turned back to his task.

After that, Belle stayed to watch the entire handover ceremony. Despite the barbs and the general air of discomfort, she couldn't deny that, if nothing else, the emissary was quite lovely to look at; especially from this angle. When the audience was concluded and the Queen and King proclaimed the beginning of the autumn celebrations, Belle slipped away from the bustling crowd.

~ * ~

It had taken her some time, but in the end, Belle had found a part of the castle that wasn't either buzzing with serving staff, busily supplying the feast, or idling nobles that had stolen away from the main halls for more private... conversations.

Not that she was one to judge.

The corridor was dark and at this time of the year, too chilly to be comfortable. She rubbed at her arms, wishing she'd worn a dress with longer sleeves, when a low voice sounded in her ear.

"I was beginning to worry you wouldn't come."

Her heart gave a lurch of excitement and Belle spun, throwing her arms around the man behind her, barely more than an outline in the darkness. Their lips met, clumsy at first, before he melted against her. After months of separation, kissing Rumple felt like coming home.

After far too short a moment, Belle forced herself to pull back. Her eyes hadn't quite adjusted to the dark, yet, but she could still see the outline of Rumple's face; the way the moonlight glinted off his scales.

"Someone could see," she whispered.

"What, all the way out here? Sweetheart, I doubt even the mice know this part of the castle even exists."

Belle gave a little laugh and hoped he couldn't hear the trembling in it. "I missed you," she managed to say.

"And I you." His lips were warm against her forehead and she leaned against him, enjoying his warmth.

"How is he?" Belle finally asked.

"Fast asleep in your quarters."

Immediately, the knot in Belle's chest loosened. Not seeing Rumple between the changing of the seasons was bad enough. Not seeing Gideon for half of each year…

"We can go see him if you like," Rumple suggested gently.

Belle bit her lower lip, then shook her head. "Later," she decided. "I-" She sighed. "Is it selfish if I want you for myself? Just for now?"

"If it is, I'll gladly be called a selfish man." Rumple leaned in, trailing his lips across the shell of her ear. "I've missed you every day." His mouth wandered lower. "And dreamed of you every night."

"Not here," Belle whispered urgently, but she made no attempt at pushing him away.

"Nobody will see," Rumple assured her, brushing hands down her back.

Part of her almost wanted to get discovered. At least then the hiding would be over.Of course, that would come with its own problems. They had talked about this. Had even talked about running away and leaving the Courts and their squabbling behind.

And being on the run wouldn't give their son a normal life, either.

Belle pushed aside those thoughts, focusing on Rumple entirely. And when she let him push her against the wall, his mouth on her neck, her hands in his hair, she managed to let the world fall away entirely, even if it was only for a short time.

Their arrangement wasn't perfect. But it worked for them.

It was enough.

~ * ~

Solstice

Snow fell softly and Rumplestiltskin glared at the flakes with an intensity that should have melted them before reaching the ground. It had been quite some time—centuries, really—since anyone had made him wait out in the cold, but that was not the reason he was out of sorts.

In all the years of their secret affair, Belle had never once contacted him and she knew that calling him away from court at the solstice meant that he would definitely be missed. The summons were supposed to be for an emergency, for a situation where her or Gideon's life were at risk. The fact that she had yet to show up was beginning to drive Rumplestiltskin half mad with worry.

Then he heard it. Footsteps in the snow. The sound was dampened by the thick layer covering the ground, but he would recognise the rhythm of her step anywhere. He turned, bracing himself for bad news, and paused when he saw her approach through the forest.

Belle was carrying something in her arms. No, Rumplestiltskin thought dazedly, not something, someone. She carried a bundle wrapped in a woolen cloak, and from the size and the infinite care she took, it could only be Gideon.

Panic rose in Rumplestiltskin's chest, but he squashed it down. This went against every precaution they had agreed on but she had to have a reason for bringing him.

"Belle," he called, remembering that she could not see as well in the dark as he did.

Her head snapped up, eyes darting around. When she spotted him a weak smile appeared on her face and she made her way over to the little clearing she'd given as their meeting place.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "I didn't know what else to do."

"It's all right," he assured her, although he had no idea if he was even telling the truth. "Let me hold him."

She handed the sleeping child over, and Rumplestiltskin immediately spun a thin weave of magic over the boy to keep him warm and asleep. He had the feeling that this would not be an easy conversation.

"What happened?" he asked, looking up from Gideon's sleeping face with some effort. The months away from his son always wore on him.

"It's Gideon," Belle said quietly.

Rumplestiltskin's heart sank and something of his panic must have shown on his face, because Belle immediately raised her hands to placate him.

"No, nothing like that," she said quickly. "He's fine. He's… wonderful, in fact." She pressed her lips together, and in the moonlight, her eyes looked very large and so very, very blue. "Yesterday, he showed magic for the first time."

Rumplestiltskin blinked, caught halfway between relief and confusion. Yes, Gideon was quite young to be showing the signs of a magical talent but not too young.

And then he realised.

"It's dark magic," Rumplestiltskin whispered, his heart sinking again. Of course it was. With Gideon's happy disposition and kind temperament, he'd allowed himself to hope—to delude himself—that maybe he hadn't passed his curse on to his child.

A fool's hope.

A slender hand on his face, cold from the night air but still warm against his skin, tore him from his spiralling thoughts. "It's not dark magic," she said gently. "It's all light. The brightest you have ever seen."

Relief flooded him, enough to make his knees buckle. "Then what-"

"He can't control it," Belle said, letting her hand drop. "It won't harm anyone, but he'll never be able to hide it."

And now, finally, Rumplestiltskin understood. She hadn't called him because she was in trouble. She had called him so he could see his son one last time.

"He can't stay with me," he said, looking down at the sleeping boy in his arms. Suddenly, he didn't want Gideon to be asleep anymore. Didn't want him to miss what might be their last moments together for years. If not longer.

"We could hide him," Rumplestiltskin suggested. "Nobody needs to know about this, we could-"

"Keep him away from all other children until he is old enough to control his magic?" Belle asked. Her tone was still gentle, but firm.

Rumplestiltskin sagged. No matter how much he wanted to, he wasn't that selfish of a man. "No, of course not," he said. "You're right."

"I know I am." Belle laid her hand over his on Gideon's shoulder. "That's why we're going to leave."

It took Rumplestiltskin a moment to understand what she had said. "We can't," he said immediately. They had talked about this. They had obligations. Belle might only be a minor noble at court, but she had the Queen's ear, and her absence would be noted. If it came out that she had run away with the Beast of Erebos, it might even be the cause of a new war. And as for Rumplestiltskin... nobody liked the Dark One, but he was the kingdom's most powerful magic user. He could hardly just up and disappear.

Belle knew this. They both knew this. And yet, when he looked at her, the light in her eyes showed a core of steel underneath. She had made her decision; he just had to catch up.

"We can," she said simply. "And we will. I'm not letting Gideon grow up without his father." She swallowed, an old pain flickering across her face. "He deserves a chance at a normal life, Rumple. We deserve a chance."

"They'll come after us."

"They'll try." Her hands slid up his arm. "Please, Rumple. I don't want to lose you."

And what could he say to that?

"All right." He tried for a smile and almost succeeded. "I never much liked the court, anyway."

A smile lit up Belle's face, and Rumplestiltskin wondered why it had taken him so long to decide. He leaned in, careful of the sleeping child in his arms and brushed a kiss against her lips. She tasted of spring.

"Thank you," she whispered, lips brushing against his.

"I love you," he replied.

-

[kelyon]

TMI Tuesday

Hello, Tumblr!

As I write this on Monday night, the Rumbelle Showdown results have posted, but the authors haven’t been revealed yet. I am on tenterhooks, waiting to see who everyone was. The Rumbelle Showdown blog has asked for guesses before the big reveal, so if you’ve got a hunch, head on over there to place your guesses. Huge congratulations to the winner, Aurifer, and EVEN MORE HUGE thank you to everyone who participated. Voting, reading, writing--and especially our tireless admin--it all adds up to create a vibrant and exciting fandom. We wouldn’t be here if not for each other. 

In other news, I posted chapter 12 of Dark Mistress on Friday. It was very smutty, and I got to incorporate one of my favorite tropes: bisexual Rumple!

(Obligatory gif of bisexual celebration)

And the next chapter is going to be even more smut! Because Belle has got Rumple to herself now, and even though she’s not too jealous, she wants to reclaim what’s hers. This will be a chapter full of one of my other favorite tropes: Magic Sex. 

This is gonna be a game-changer for the relationship, and the story as a whole. We’re finally in the section of momentum, and it’s just going to keep ramping up. I recently looked at the Excel sheet where I have the outline, and the entire rest of the story fits on one screen now. It’s still going to be a while, with posting every two weeks, but we are well and truly in it now. Chapter 12 of 32 makes for 3/8ths of the way through the fic. (Actually that’s a terrible measurement for me to conceptualize my progress. It was easier when I was on Chapter 11 and could think that I was pretty much 1/3 done.)

 Anyway.

Let me know if you have questions! I cannot wait to see what everyone thought of this chapter and what you’re looking forward to in the next one. 

Have a great day!

Dark Mistress is here

My Inbox is here

[mlp-mtg-demhier]

Zuckerbrot und Peitsche

General: Eight-and-a-Half-Tails

https://tappedout.net/mtg-decks/zuckerbrot-und-peitsche/?cb=1539923563

1 Temple Bell 1 Otherworld Atlas 1 Reito Lantern 1 Aetherflux Reservoir 1 Sword of Light and Shadow 1 Felidar Sovereign 1 Auramancer 1 Orzhov Advokist 1 World Queller 1 Grand Abolisher 1 Wall of Shards 1 Wall of Essence 1 Wall of Glare 1 Alabaster Wall 1 Wall of Reverence 1 Order of the Stars 1 Angel of Condemnation 1 Eldrazi Displacer 1 Protector of the Crown 1 Spirit of the Labyrinth 1 Guardian of the Gateless 1 Soul Warden 1 Resolute Archangel 1 Diamond Mare 1 Crested Sunmare 1 Nearheath Pilgrim 1 Bygone Bishop 1 Thraben Inspector 1 Mother of Runes 1 Hokori, Dust Drinker 1 Glory 1 Sunscorch Regent 1 Celestial Convergence 1 Spirit Link 1 Land Tax 1 Rule of Law 1 Recumbent Bliss 1 Prison Term 1 Oppressive Rays 1 Aurification 1 Darksteel Mutation 1 Flickerform 1 Authority of the Consuls 1 Detainment Spell 1 Angelic Chorus 1 Dawn of Hope 1 Rest in Peace 1 Boon Reflection 1 Second Sunrise 1 Truce 1 Swords to Plowshares 1 Return to Dust 1 Condemn 1 Banishing Stroke 1 Maze of Ith 1 Mystifying Maze 30 Plains 1 Isolated Watchtower 1 Kabira Crossroads 1 Radiant Fountain 1 Miren, the Moaning Well 1 Blighted Steppe 1 Approach of the Second Sun 1 Alliance of Arms 1 Balancing Act 1 Restore Balance 1 Tempt with Glory 1 Tragic Arrogance 1 Armageddon 1 Temporary Truce

[rumbelleshowdown]

Author: Aurifer

Prompts: 3 am talks. Robbery. “You’re stuck with me.”

Group: A

-

out of hows and whys not whens

"Wait!"

The stagecoach slowed its rattling pace across the inn's courtyard and Belle put in a sprint, her feet slipping precariously on the rain-wet cobblestones.

"Wrong coach, Miss," the coachman called when she caught up. "This one's bought out."

Don't I wish…

"I've got a seat," Belle told him, brandishing the slip of paper. "It's all cleared with the proprietor." She didn't wait for a reply, opening the door for herself and climbing inside, heedless of the driver's protests. The solitary passenger glanced up when Belle dropped into the opposite row of seats.

"This a private coach, dearie," he said drily.

Belle froze at the sound of his voice. Not him. Nobody could be this unlucky.

She debated simply leaving but gathered her courage and pushed back the hood of her travelling cloak, instead. Elias Gold, a slight man with unfashionably long hair and the most piercing brown eyes, blinked in confusion.

Then he visibly recoiled. "Belle?"

Belle almost wanted to deny it. No, she might say, maybe you're thinking of some other girl who's head you turned before disappearing for five years. She'd believed that infatuation behind her, but after barely a minute near him, the air had already gone out of the enclosed space.

She couldn't stop staring at his lips.

Damn the man.

"Mr Gold," she said, dragging her eyes away. "How… unexpected to see you again."

His face shut down. "Likewise, Miss French. I was under the impression that I had bought all the seats on this coach."

So it was going to be like this. "You should apply to the coaching inn for a refund, then." The coach lurched and sped up. "But unless you would like to jump out, you're stuck with me."

"It seems that I am." He hadn't taken his eyes off her once, and Belle found herself shifting uneasily under his scrutiny.

"I never heard about your return to the country," she said finally.

"Because I planned on keeping it quiet and leaving quickly." Gold's mouth twisted mockingly. "It might be best if we continued this journey in silence."

Her face burned, but Belle kept her chin raised. "It might."

So they did. Without conversation and darkness falling over the passing landscape, it was hard to tell how much time passed. Belle dozed off more than once, only to jerk awake when they hit a particularly uneven patch of road.

Gold, meanwhile, had taken to staring out the window. For all the attention he paid his fellow passenger, Belle might as well not have existed.

No changes there, then.

Despite her bitter thoughts, Belle was about to doze off again, when she felt the carriage slow down. She glanced outside. "Where's the inn?"

"I doubt this is a planned stop." Gold reached for his cane. "Maybe we should-"

Both doors of the coach slammed open and Belle only had an impression of shapes in the dark before her eyes focused on the barrel of the gun shoved at her face.

"Out," a half-muffled voice commanded.

Before she could react, a hand closed around her upper arm, dragging her outside. It all happened both too fast and so very slowly at once.

"Don't make a fuss," a vaguely familiar voice—the coachman—said. "This isn't about you."

She turned enough to glare at him. Somewhere in the dark, Gold was shouting. "Let go of- Where's Belle? Belle?!"

Her chest tightened at the note of panic in his voice. "Here!"

"Shut it." The barrel of the pistol jabbed into her side again.

Two more men—six in total, Belle thought—brought Gold around. He looked ruffled, but not injured, and when his eyes found hers, something of the tightness in Belle's chest eased.

"Belle," he breathed. "Are you-"

"You shut it, too!" one of the robbers snapped.

"Did you get the case?" the coachman asked.

"Yeah," one of the men flanking Gold replied. "Stuffed under his seat."

"I didn't trust it to storage," Gold said archly. "Congratulations, gentlemen. It's a rare occasion when I haven't been paranoid enough."

Belle almost smiled. She had missed him.

"Good." The coachman looked around uneasily. "We should go."

"But what about-"

"We got what we came for, let's go," the coachman urged.

He appeared to be the leader of the bunch, because despite some grumbling, the others followed his lead and, after tying both Belle and Gold to the carriage, rode off, taking the coach horses with them. Belle closed her eyes for a moment, breathing slowly to calm her hammering heart. Next to her, Gold was a solid, warm presence, and all she wanted was to press her face into the crook of his neck. Neither of them made a sound while they listened to the hoofbeats disappearing into the distance.

"Are you all right?" Gold asked when the night had gone quiet again.

"I'm…" Belle wanted to say 'fine' but that seemed almost painfully dishonest. "I've been better," she admitted. "Do you know what those people were after?"

"I have an idea," Gold admitted. "And about who arranged this incident. Which is why I sent all my important documents ahead three weeks ago. Can you get out of the ropes?"

Belle gaped. "You knew this would happen?"

"I suspected that something would happen," Gold corrected her.

"You could still have told me!"

"Would you have believed me? Would you have left if you had?"

Probably not the first. Definitely not the second. Despite her anger, she didn't have it in her to let him face danger alone. That didn't make him right, but she could hardly argue a point of principle with a man like him. "I'm not sure," she replied finally. "I didn't pay attention earlier."

"Please try," Gold said. "I certainly can't, and I don't want to stand here all night. It'll get colder before dawn."

"Eager to be away from me?" Belle meant it like a joke, but very real hurt had it come out like an accusation.

Gold scoffed. "Eager to get out of this mud; we'll be stuck here for another couple of hours while we wait for-"

"I'm engaged," Belle blurted.

The silence that fell could've been cut with a knife. Gold had gone completely still.

"We- my father never managed to get out of debt, and without funds, the bookshop failed, and Gaston… he offered." He was there, she didn't add. The man had the depth of a puddle, but he'd been there and willing to help.

"I… see." Gold's voice was faint. Distant. "Congratulations."

"Please don't do that." Belle gave her arms one last twist and managed to slip off one loop of the ropes.

"Do what?" Gold asked, coolly.

"This!" Belle angrily tugged at the knots behind her. "Pretend like none of this matters. It's just running away again."

"It seems like you did quite well without me."

Finally, Belle managed to slip out of the ropes and faced Gold. "I was lost without you," she whispered. "For years, I kept wondering if I'd said something, done something to make you hate me this much."

"I never said that I hated you," Gold said quietly. In the moonlight, his eyes were very dark.

"You didn't need to." Belle ducked closer to work at the knots holding him. "You never said anything about leaving until that evening, until…" Until they'd kissed. Almost. Belle shook her head. "Until we got close. And then you were gone!"

"I had business to attend to."

Business that would get a man robbed on dark country streets, it seemed. Belle kept working and kept silent.

"I know who I am, Belle," he said finally, his voice rough and distant again. "I know what I've done, what I might still do. If you'd known me, really, you never could've thought that you loved me."

Belle slipped the last loop of rope off his wrists and stepped back. "I didn't," she said, trying to find his eyes again. "I didn't think that I loved you, Elias, I did."

He swallowed heavily. "Belle…"

I do.

She didn't mean to kiss him. She really didn't. But then his hand found her waist, and their lips met and what she had meant to do didn't matter anymore, because he was right there, in her arms, and if he wasn't letting go, then neither was she.

He took over the kiss that she'd begun, pulling her closer, his tongue tracing over the seam of her lips, leaving behind a trail of fire. Belle sighed into his mouth as something just below her ribcage, coiled tight for so long that she'd almost forgotten it was there, finally relaxed. Warmth flooded her entire body.

It was impossible to say how long they stood there before they—reluctantly—separated, both of them breathing heavily. Only then did the realisation of what they'd just done hit her, and she could see her own sinking panic reflected in Gold's eyes, one question between them.

Now what?

-

[rumbelleshowdown]

Author: Aurifer

Group: B

Prompts: “Come back right now!” Garden. Adventure, accident.

-

rose reds

The gardening plan had probably been a bad idea to begin with, Belle mused. While the Castle wasn't quite as gloomy anymore, she still missed the open sky sometimes. And there was a garden, after all, which could be seen as part of her housekeeping duties.

Much like the Castle itself, however, it didn't seem to need much help from her. Despite its wild look, everything in it seemed to have its place and was well taken care of. Maintained by magic, Belle supposed, which explained the horrifying state of the one pair of shears she had found. The rusty things probably wouldn't even close, never mind cut any kind of plant.

She was about to go back inside, open sky be damned, when she heard a heart-rending yowl from somewhere in the distance. She hurried over, holding her shears like a cudgel until she found the source of the noise.

"What on…?"

Some kind of wild cat, too large for a pet and an unnatural dark green, at that, lay in a patch of turned soil, fighting… a plant. Thin tendrils had wrapped around the creature and seemed intent on strangling it.

Belle stepped closer and reached out a hand, only for the cat to give another shriek and swipe at her, gouging deeply into her hand. Immediately, the plant tightened around the animal, causing another distressed cry. There wasn't much time.

Ignoring the flailing creature, Belle reached out again and grabbed a handful of the tendrils. The rough surface bit into her palms, but they didn't attack her. Grimacing, she placed the shears and put her weight on them, forcing the rusted blades shut.

The plant snapped with a loud hiss, and the parts wrapped around the cat fell limp. Before Belle could even think of how to help the animal, it shook itself free of the deadly tendrils and ran off with another of its strange yowls.

Clutching her hand, Belle frowned after it. "You're welcome!"

Then she returned her attention to the plant. The tendrils had all sprouted from a single point. Cradling her bleeding hand, Belle pushed aside some of the dirt with her foot, revealing a runner that continued just under the surface.

"Now where did you come from?" she muttered, mostly to herself. It probably wasn't any of her business, but she didn't like the thought of sharing this garden with murderous flora. Maybe she could find out where it came from and ask Rumplestiltskin to put a fence around it. Yes, that sounded like a sensible reason. Much better than 'I was curious,' at least.

"And where do you think you're going?"

Belle jumped, almost dropping both the shears and the plant. Rumplestiltskin was sitting—no, lounging—on a waist-high boulder that she could have sworn hadn't been there a few moments ago.

"Ru- Rumplestiltskin!" She straightened quickly, gathering her thoughts. Did he have to appear out of nowhere like that? "I was just…" She held up the runner, as if in explanation.

"And what is that supposed to be?" He didn't seem annoyed, simply curious.

"I could ask you the same," she countered, regaining some of her composure. "This thing is dangerous."

"Many things in the Castle are," Rumplestiltskin countered.

"But not murderous!" Belle shook the runner for emphasis. "I saw it attack an animal."

That seemed to throw Rumplestiltskin. He tilted his head, golden eyes fixed on her as if trying to read a particularly confusing book. Then his expression cleared and he shrugged. "An accident, I'm sure. Certainly no reason to start digging up my garden."

Belle glared. "You don't believe that."

When he didn't reply, she tugged at the runner again, pulling another foot of it out of the earth. Holding eye contact with Rumplestiltskin, she continued to follow the path of the plant.

"Wait!" Rumplestiltskin called after her. "Come back right now!"

Belle ignored him and as hoped, he made no actual effort to stop her. Footsteps caught up to her and Belle had to fight not to look back to see if the Dark One was actually running after her in those ridiculous boots.

"This is pointless," he complained. "It's a plant! What do you think it's going to do?"

"I told you, it attacked an animal," Belle shot back.

"Well, it doesn't seem too interested in you, does it?"

 "Look, I know what I saw. I just want to make sure it's not going to happen again." She threw him a quick smile. "Try to think of it as an adventure."

Rumplestiltskin made a disgusted noise, but she could see through his bluster. He was enjoying himself, maybe despite his better judgment. Then his face fell. "What is that?" he asked, voice low, almost dangerous.

Belle's steps faltered for a moment until she realised what he was looking at. "Oh." She suppressed the impulse to hide her injured hand. "It's nothing. Just a scratch."

Ignoring her, Rumplestiltskin caught her wrist and held it up for closer inspection. "What did this?" he asked.

Belle told him about the cat. "It was just scared," she finished. "You can't blame it for lashing out."

"Ungrateful little beast," Rumplestiltskin grumbled.

"No, no, this happened before I got it out."

"And you still helped it?" He seemed incredulous.

"Of course."

He gave her that look again, like there was something written just behind her eyes in a language that he desperately wished to understand. He shook his head, as if to clear it. "Ridiculous."

He waved one hand over the cuts. A bandage appeared and wrapped neatly around her hand. Where it touched skin, the burn of the injury numbed until only a faint tingling was left behind.

Belle stared at her hand. "Thank you."

"I can't have you running around bleeding all over the Castle, can I?" Rumplestiltskin held out his hand, and for a brief, ridiculous moment, Belle thought he wanted her to take it. "The plant," he explained. "You'll just ruin the dressing with it."

Belle was about to tell him that she'd managed so far just fine, but decided against it. He was genuinely concerned, despite his strange way of showing it, and what harm would it do?

She handed over the runner and picked up the shears again. They followed the plant's strange, winding path, talking easily. Belle wondered if Rumplestiltskin took much time to just walk outside, but thought she already knew the answer.

He stopped so abruptly that Belle almost ran into him. She looked up and saw what had frozen him in his tracks.

"So, do you still think this was an accident?" she asked.

The archway towered taller than three men, and made entirely out of thick brambles, with thorns as long as Belle's hand. If she'd found this by itself, she might have thought that Rumplestiltskin had put it here, but his reaction told her differently.

"It-" He cleared his throat. "Maybe one that got slightly out of hand. Magic can be unpredictable."

Belle stared up at the archway. He wasn't wrong there.

"Wait," Rumplestiltskin called, "where are you going?"

Belle glanced back. "To see where it leads, of course."

"Nowhere good," Rumplestiltskin said, but he still followed her.

The forest grew dark around them, although it couldn't be evening, yet. Rumplestiltskin kept pulling on the runner, which showed no sign of growing thinner or thicker.

"Do you come here often?" Belle asked after a while, desperate to break the heavy silence.

"Not without good reason," Rumplestiltskin replied. "Certainly not in pursuit of a plant."

Before Belle could think of a clever reply, they reached the clearing. Both of them stared.

"I think it's a rose," Belle said finally.

In the same way that a mountain could conceivably be called a "rock." The plant was enormous; a climbing rose that had wound itself around an ancient-looking tree, almost strangling it to death. The rose's branches were thick and dark, almost black, and Belle imagined she could see them pulse faintly.

"What is it doing?" she whispered, not quite knowing why.

"Drinking magic." Rumplestiltskin kept his voice low, too. He almost sounded… normal. "The tree is ancient; grown in magic soil for centuries."

"Is that why it attacked the cat?"

"And left you alone? Very likely."

As one, they looked down at the runner that Rumplestiltskin still held in his hand.

The rose struck.

The runner writhed like a snake, twisted, and wrapped around Rumplestiltskin before he could make even a sound of protest. Even as Belle watched, frozen in shock, the plant sprouted thorns, piercing skin and wrapping tighter around its victim.

Red, Belle thought, dazed. He bleeds red.

Rumplestiltskin toppled over with a pained shout as the rose pulled, dragged him across the clearing and towards the main body of the plant. Belle had a vision of Rumplestiltskin caught in that cage of vines and thorns, and that finally tore her out of her shock.

She leapt, grabbing hold of Rumplestiltskin. The thorns cut her again, but as before, the plant didn't seem interested in her. She held on with one arm around Rumplestiltskin to stop him from getting pulled closer to the rose.

"What are you doing?" he snapped.

"Saving you," she shot back through gritted teeth. More tendrils shot up, but Belle ignored them, reaching out one hand to grab the garden shears she'd dropped in that first leap. "Hold still!"

Without waiting, she set the shears to the tendrils and began snapping them off. With only one arm, it was slow work, but she didn't dare let go of Rumplestiltskin. The plant didn't fight her, but keeping it from dragging him away was enough of a battle. Her arms were littered with cuts by the time Belle snapped the last tendril and they both fell back without the pull from the rose.

Without even getting to his feet, Rumplestiltskin flung out an arm. Purple smoke rushed towards the plant, enveloping it, and after a breathless moment, Rumplestiltskin sagged back, clearly exhausted.

When the smoke—the magic—cleared, the rose seemed to have disappeared. Belle allowed herself to relax, and only now realised that Rumplestiltskin was, for all intents and purposes, lying in her lap. He looked up at her, a slightly dazed expression on his face. She'd never even noticed the flecks of brown in all that gold. They looked almost human.

Then he, too, seemed to realise their unusual positions. He quickly got up, brushing off the quickly withering pieces of rose that still clung to his leathers.

"Well," he said, walking over to where the tree and the rose had stood, "I suppose you got your adventure." He bent down and picked up… the tree, Belle realised. And the rose with it. Only that both had been shrunk to about the size of a fist.

"Much less trouble this way," Rumplestiltskin commented when he saw her stare. "I'll put it in my collection; it's an interesting little plant, after all."

He held out a hand to her and Belle was about to give him the shears when she realised that he wanted to help her up. She let him pull her to her feet, wincing as the motion tugged at her new injuries.

Rumplestiltskin frowned at them. "You're hurt. Again."

"It's all right," Belle assured him quickly. He seemed uninjured, although his strange lizard skin would have made it hard to tell.

"It's not." He waved his hand, frowning when nothing happened. "Ah," he said finally. "Looks like the little devil rose took a bite of my magic." Rumplestiltskin sighed, dropping her hand. "It seems we will have to do this the old-fashioned way, back at the Castle." He gave the plant a baleful look. "Where we will have to walk."

Maybe not quite such a terrible prospect, then. Belle gave him her best smile. "I think I like the old-fashioned way," she said, and offered him her arm.

And after a moment, Rumplestiltskin took it.

-

[rumbelleshowdown]

Author: Aurifer

Prompts: He plays video games?? Meteor shower. Cooking, fire, cuddles, wine.

Group: C

-

we were together. (I forget the rest.)

"Careful!" Rumple caught Belle's arm, steadying her gently as they stepped out of the garden and over the uneven ground behind their house.

"Rumple, you're hovering." Belle made a show of frowning, but there was no sting to her words. While her eyes were still sharp enough for reading, they both knew that she struggled with low light.

"Allow an old man his indulgences."

That earned him a playful swat on the shoulder, but Belle also adjusted his hand so she could link her arm with his. "I'm letting you take me outside at this ridiculous hour, aren't I?"

Laughing, Rumple led her along. In the growing darkness, the path quickly became hard to see, but he knew the way well enough. What surprised him was how steady Belle's steps remained. Maybe he had been hovering needlessly.

They soon reached the little hill and Belle slowed, taking in the scene.

The fire had burned low, as intended, bathing the makeshift pavilion and the carefully arranged twining plants in a warm, golden light.

"It's beautiful," Belle said, tilting her head to press a quick kiss to his lips. "Did you do all this?"

"Gideon helped carrying furniture," Rumple admitted. Everything else, from the dishes to the low fireplace and the complex construction of sliding logs that kept it going, had been his own work. And the look of delight on Belle's face had already made it more than worth it.

"Where is Gideon?" Belle asked. "I haven't seen him all evening."

"I may have suggested that he could stay inside the guest room for the night." He pulled out a chair for Belle to sit down. "Apparently, he wants to play video games."

Belle laughed. "He plays video games?"

"He picked up the habit from his nephew." Rumple shrugged. Even with their visits to Storybrooke growing rarer, Henry's old console had clearly made a lasting impression. "Now, if I may…"

With a flourish, he produced a basket from under the table and set out the first of the dishes. "Home cooking," he assured her.

"Not that there's any other kind out here," Belle teased.

"Now that you mention it…" Rumple had intended for this to be a surprise later, but the whole point of this evening was to spoil his wife. With that thought, he produced the bottle of wine. "Gideon brought it from Elphame," he explained. "It seemed safer than to try our own casks again."

Belle laughed. Their last attempt at wine making had ended with an almost-undrinkable swill. And it really wasn't too difficult to bring along a few bottles when they visited with friends.

"Very wise," Belle said, mock-serious. Then her expression broke and she stood, looping both arms around his neck to draw him into a kiss. Her lips were warm and soft, and what had been meant as a quick peck shifted when her mouth opened against his with a sigh.

A shiver went down Rumple's body and he drew her closer. Without thinking, he reached out and steadied the bottle before it could topple over.

Somehow, they managed to return to their dinner, which passed in companionable conversation. Both of them enjoyed having their son over, but this time to themselves was still a welcome change.

"You know," Belle said after the food and half the bottle were gone, a mischievous smile on her face, "we left something unfinished earlier. Maybe if we go back home, and are very quiet…"

"Tempting as the offer is-" And, oh, it was. "there is something I meant to show you." He pushed a lid over the fire pit, extinguishing the light and leaving them in darkness, before holding out his arm to her. "Shall we?"

She took his arm and allowed him to lead her out of the pavilion. They didn't have far to go, just enough so they could sit on a blanket under the night sky. Belle adjusted her shawl and leaned her head on Rumple's shoulder.

"Look up."

They both did. As their eyes adjusted, the stars became clearer, an explosion of diamonds against the velvet black of a moonless night.

"What am I looking for?" Belle asked, a little breathless.

"Wait until midnight." Rumple didn't have a watch with him, but his internal clock told him that it should come soon. "Just a little longer." He wrapped an arm around her. "Any minute, now. Any… minute…"

#

"Careful!"

Rumple's arm caught her before Belle had even realised that she had stumbled. His hand was warm and steady, and she let herself lean into the touch for just a moment before she straightened up.

"You're hovering," she told him, but smiled as she did. Her eyes were not what they had been, and in truth, she was grateful to know that he was watching out for her.

He returned her smile. "Allow an old man his indulgences."

Belle raised a hand to swat his shoulder, then paused. Something about the exchange seemed… familiar, and not just in the way that their conversations had taken on their own melody and rhythm over the years.  She pushed the thought aside, adjusting her grip to link her arm with Rumple's.

"I'm letting you take me away from my book," she said. "I think that's a lot of indulgence."

Odd, Belle thought later, how she'd been able to set her feet in just the right places on their way to the pavilion. How she'd known what each dish would be before Rumple uncovered them.

But the wine buzzed in her veins, and the sky above them was stunning. She didn't mind the perpetual sunset of the home, but she had missed the dark.

"Any minute, now," Rumple promised. "Any… minute…"

#

Sugared strawberries in the basket. The taste of wine on her tongue.

"Any minute, now."

Rumple's arm steadying her. Rumple sweeping her up into his arms. Laughing protests that she wasn't too old to walk herself quite yet.

"Any minute…"

The pavilion bathed in firelight. Rumple catching the bottle before either of them even knew it was falling. Laughing over dinner. Kissing under the starlight.

"Any…"

Ignoring that she knew what would be in the basket, before he'd shown her. Never stumbling on the path, because her mind might forget walking this way, but her feet never did.

"… minute…"

"Stop!"

Rumple waited, puzzled. "Everything all right, sweetheart?"

"Something is wrong." She wasn't sure how to explain. "We are about to have dinner."

"It's no three-star restaurant, but I wouldn't say-"

"You built a pavilion out on the hills, where it's night." It was strange, remembering these things that hadn't happened. Belle felt as though she couldn't look at anything too closely, or the knowledge would slip through her fingers. "Gideon helped with the furniture and the wine. And just before midnight, you want to show me something."

Rumple did look alarmed, now. "Do you know what it is?"

She thought for a moment. "No," she admitted. "There's nothing. I never get to see-" She paused, realising what she'd said, and Rumple's expression mirrored her own confusion. "I feel like I've lived this evening a dozen times over," she explained. "More, maybe. We both have."

"Something does feel… off," Rumple admitted, finally.

Belle hesitated. She didn't want to ask the question that was hanging between them. "Rumple…"

"I promise, this has nothing to do with me." Rumple smoothed his hands over her shoulders. "I haven't used magic in decades."

"It is magic, then?" she asked.

"What other explanation is there?"

True enough, she supposed. "But who would want to make us relive the same evening over and over again? Who even knows-"

She saw her own realisation mirrored on Rumple's face.

"Gideon."

#

They found Gideon in the guest room, sitting in the centre of the floor with candles and patterns of coloured sand surrounding him.

"Gideon?" Belle forced her voice not to shake. "What are you doing there?"

He jumped up as if stung, his face passing a range of expressions from guilt to panic and finally to sullen defiance. "What does it look like?"

"Like you used magic in our home to make us repeat this evening over and over." Rumple's voice was ice.

"It's not what you think!" There was honest despair on Gideon's face.

Part of Belle was furious with him, she forced herself to calm. "Then explain it."

"I had a vision," he muttered, eyes downcast. "At university. I saw…" His face twitched. "I saw you die."

Belle suddenly felt very cold. "What?" she asked.

"Not right away," Gideon added quickly, voice cracking. "And it's… it looked peaceful."

"Oh." Belle didn't know what to say. It was one thing to know your days were numbered, but quite another to realise just how small that number might be. She glanced at Rumple, who had gone deadly pale, but caught her gaze. An understanding passed between them. They could process this later; right now, their priority was Gideon.

"Why all this?" Rumple asked. "Why use magic?"

"Because I can't lose her!" Gideon was on his feet, hands balled at his side. "Not yet. I'm not ready."

"Oh, Gideon…" Something like a gaping hole opened up in Belle's chest. Blindly, she reached out for Rumple's hand and he squeezed hers back as if he wanted to keep her from floating away. With her free hand, she went to cup her son's face.

The moment her skin touched his, he crumpled, hugging her close. "It's too soon," he whispered, tears choking his words.

"I know." Belle leaned back far enough that she could see his face. "And it always will be. You'll always want more time with the people you love." Gently, she disentangled herself from her son's arms. "But this is not the way to deal with it, Gideon. You can't preserve us—me—in amber until you're ready to move on. However many days I have left, I deserve to live them on my own terms."

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I thought if we could just have a few more days…"

"But we don't," Belle said. "We just had this piece of one day again and again. This doesn't give us more time, it just makes the little we have meaningless."

Gideon sagged, defeated. "I'll… I'll break the spell," he promised. "I'm sorry."

"Wait." Rumple held up one hand. "It may be selfish of me," he said, "but I would rather not end the day like this."

Belle frowned a silent question at him.

A rueful smile played around his lips. "We cannot have forever," he said, and Belle saw the words tear at him, "but we can have… just one more perfect evening." His eyes flickered to Belle. "If you would like that."

Neither of them would remember what had been said in this room, Belle realised. She didn't have to spend her last days knowing that they would be her last. And neither would Rumple.

"I would like that," she said, forcing a small smile. "Maybe this time, I'll get to see that surprise."

They both turned to their son and, wiping the tears from his eyes, Gideon nodded. "OK," he said. "That… yes. Yes, I can do that."

#

Rumple's hand was warm against her back as they both leaned back to watch the night sky. "Any minute, now," he promised. "Any… minute…"

"Look!" Belle pointed at the shooting start hat had cut across the sky. "Should we make a wish?"

"Why just the one?"

Belle was about to ask what he meant, when she saw the second shooting star. And the third. And then an entire meteor shower lit up the sky above them, bright as only a land of magic could make them. Belle laughed, overwhelmed at the sight.

"Any wishes?" Rumple asked her, leaning against her once more.

Belle turned to see his face, bathed in the silvery light of the meteor shower, and kissed the corner of his mouth. "Not a one."

-

[rumbelleshowdown]

Congrats Aurifer! I totally want a prequel and a sequel to A Wheel of Seasons!

[rumbelleshowdown]

To Seiren: I just wanted to let you know how much I loved your entry this round (and in all the ones before, really.)

It's amazing how you managed to bring out different facets of these two dorks every time you wrote them. Truly, the best kind of magic.

— Aurifer

[rumbelleshowdown]

Hey there Aurifer! I absolutely loved your last entry. In fact, I voted for it! This win could not have gone to a more deserving writer. Thank you for facing off with me, and I look forward to the grand reveal!

-Seiren

[rumbelleshowdown]

And the two authors advancing to the final round are:

Seiren vs. Aurifer

Congratulations to these two amazing authors!

ThinMint and The_Wonderous_Trianne -- thank you so much for your participation in this event, and your amazing stories, which I hope you will continue after the Showdown has concluded.

Prompts for the final round are:

Forbidden.

Shared custody.

Light in her eyes.

For this last round, the minimum word count is 1K, as always. The maximum is 2.5K. This one's for all the marbles, so I'm giving you a little longer to write your stories. Final fics must be submitted to rumbelleshowdown@gmail.com by 6:00 pm EDT on Thursday, June 30th. Good luck, Aurifer and Seiren.

[morosoro]

This one made me cry- but like it hurts so good

Author: Aurifer

Prompts: He plays video games?? Meteor shower. Cooking, fire, cuddles, wine.

Group: C

-

we were together. (I forget the rest.)

"Careful!" Rumple caught Belle's arm, steadying her gently as they stepped out of the garden and over the uneven ground behind their house.

"Rumple, you're hovering." Belle made a show of frowning, but there was no sting to her words. While her eyes were still sharp enough for reading, they both knew that she struggled with low light.

"Allow an old man his indulgences."

That earned him a playful swat on the shoulder, but Belle also adjusted his hand so she could link her arm with his. "I'm letting you take me outside at this ridiculous hour, aren't I?"

Laughing, Rumple led her along. In the growing darkness, the path quickly became hard to see, but he knew the way well enough. What surprised him was how steady Belle's steps remained. Maybe he had been hovering needlessly.

They soon reached the little hill and Belle slowed, taking in the scene.

The fire had burned low, as intended, bathing the makeshift pavilion and the carefully arranged twining plants in a warm, golden light.

"It's beautiful," Belle said, tilting her head to press a quick kiss to his lips. "Did you do all this?"

"Gideon helped carrying furniture," Rumple admitted. Everything else, from the dishes to the low fireplace and the complex construction of sliding logs that kept it going, had been his own work. And the look of delight on Belle's face had already made it more than worth it.

"Where is Gideon?" Belle asked. "I haven't seen him all evening."

"I may have suggested that he could stay inside the guest room for the night." He pulled out a chair for Belle to sit down. "Apparently, he wants to play video games."

Belle laughed. "He plays video games?"

"He picked up the habit from his nephew." Rumple shrugged. Even with their visits to Storybrooke growing rarer, Henry's old console had clearly made a lasting impression. "Now, if I may…"

With a flourish, he produced a basket from under the table and set out the first of the dishes. "Home cooking," he assured her.

"Not that there's any other kind out here," Belle teased.

"Now that you mention it…" Rumple had intended for this to be a surprise later, but the whole point of this evening was to spoil his wife. With that thought, he produced the bottle of wine. "Gideon brought it from Elphame," he explained. "It seemed safer than to try our own casks again."

Belle laughed. Their last attempt at wine making had ended with an almost-undrinkable swill. And it really wasn't too difficult to bring along a few bottles when they visited with friends.

"Very wise," Belle said, mock-serious. Then her expression broke and she stood, looping both arms around his neck to draw him into a kiss. Her lips were warm and soft, and what had been meant as a quick peck shifted when her mouth opened against his with a sigh.

A shiver went down Rumple's body and he drew her closer. Without thinking, he reached out and steadied the bottle before it could topple over.

Somehow, they managed to return to their dinner, which passed in companionable conversation. Both of them enjoyed having their son over, but this time to themselves was still a welcome change.

"You know," Belle said after the food and half the bottle were gone, a mischievous smile on her face, "we left something unfinished earlier. Maybe if we go back home, and are very quiet…"

"Tempting as the offer is-" And, oh, it was. "there is something I meant to show you." He pushed a lid over the fire pit, extinguishing the light and leaving them in darkness, before holding out his arm to her. "Shall we?"

She took his arm and allowed him to lead her out of the pavilion. They didn't have far to go, just enough so they could sit on a blanket under the night sky. Belle adjusted her shawl and leaned her head on Rumple's shoulder.

"Look up."

They both did. As their eyes adjusted, the stars became clearer, an explosion of diamonds against the velvet black of a moonless night.

"What am I looking for?" Belle asked, a little breathless.

"Wait until midnight." Rumple didn't have a watch with him, but his internal clock told him that it should come soon. "Just a little longer." He wrapped an arm around her. "Any minute, now. Any… minute…"

#

"Careful!"

Rumple's arm caught her before Belle had even realised that she had stumbled. His hand was warm and steady, and she let herself lean into the touch for just a moment before she straightened up.

"You're hovering," she told him, but smiled as she did. Her eyes were not what they had been, and in truth, she was grateful to know that he was watching out for her.

He returned her smile. "Allow an old man his indulgences."

Belle raised a hand to swat his shoulder, then paused. Something about the exchange seemed… familiar, and not just in the way that their conversations had taken on their own melody and rhythm over the years.  She pushed the thought aside, adjusting her grip to link her arm with Rumple's.

"I'm letting you take me away from my book," she said. "I think that's a lot of indulgence."

Odd, Belle thought later, how she'd been able to set her feet in just the right places on their way to the pavilion. How she'd known what each dish would be before Rumple uncovered them.

But the wine buzzed in her veins, and the sky above them was stunning. She didn't mind the perpetual sunset of the home, but she had missed the dark.

"Any minute, now," Rumple promised. "Any… minute…"

#

Sugared strawberries in the basket. The taste of wine on her tongue.

"Any minute, now."

Rumple's arm steadying her. Rumple sweeping her up into his arms. Laughing protests that she wasn't too old to walk herself quite yet.

"Any minute…"

The pavilion bathed in firelight. Rumple catching the bottle before either of them even knew it was falling. Laughing over dinner. Kissing under the starlight.

"Any…"

Ignoring that she knew what would be in the basket, before he'd shown her. Never stumbling on the path, because her mind might forget walking this way, but her feet never did.

"… minute…"

"Stop!"

Rumple waited, puzzled. "Everything all right, sweetheart?"

"Something is wrong." She wasn't sure how to explain. "We are about to have dinner."

"It's no three-star restaurant, but I wouldn't say-"

"You built a pavilion out on the hills, where it's night." It was strange, remembering these things that hadn't happened. Belle felt as though she couldn't look at anything too closely, or the knowledge would slip through her fingers. "Gideon helped with the furniture and the wine. And just before midnight, you want to show me something."

Rumple did look alarmed, now. "Do you know what it is?"

She thought for a moment. "No," she admitted. "There's nothing. I never get to see-" She paused, realising what she'd said, and Rumple's expression mirrored her own confusion. "I feel like I've lived this evening a dozen times over," she explained. "More, maybe. We both have."

"Something does feel… off," Rumple admitted, finally.

Belle hesitated. She didn't want to ask the question that was hanging between them. "Rumple…"

"I promise, this has nothing to do with me." Rumple smoothed his hands over her shoulders. "I haven't used magic in decades."

"It is magic, then?" she asked.

"What other explanation is there?"

True enough, she supposed. "But who would want to make us relive the same evening over and over again? Who even knows-"

She saw her own realisation mirrored on Rumple's face.

"Gideon."

#

They found Gideon in the guest room, sitting in the centre of the floor with candles and patterns of coloured sand surrounding him.

"Gideon?" Belle forced her voice not to shake. "What are you doing there?"

He jumped up as if stung, his face passing a range of expressions from guilt to panic and finally to sullen defiance. "What does it look like?"

"Like you used magic in our home to make us repeat this evening over and over." Rumple's voice was ice.

"It's not what you think!" There was honest despair on Gideon's face.

Part of Belle was furious with him, she forced herself to calm. "Then explain it."

"I had a vision," he muttered, eyes downcast. "At university. I saw…" His face twitched. "I saw you die."

Belle suddenly felt very cold. "What?" she asked.

"Not right away," Gideon added quickly, voice cracking. "And it's… it looked peaceful."

"Oh." Belle didn't know what to say. It was one thing to know your days were numbered, but quite another to realise just how small that number might be. She glanced at Rumple, who had gone deadly pale, but caught her gaze. An understanding passed between them. They could process this later; right now, their priority was Gideon.

"Why all this?" Rumple asked. "Why use magic?"

"Because I can't lose her!" Gideon was on his feet, hands balled at his side. "Not yet. I'm not ready."

"Oh, Gideon…" Something like a gaping hole opened up in Belle's chest. Blindly, she reached out for Rumple's hand and he squeezed hers back as if he wanted to keep her from floating away. With her free hand, she went to cup her son's face.

The moment her skin touched his, he crumpled, hugging her close. "It's too soon," he whispered, tears choking his words.

"I know." Belle leaned back far enough that she could see his face. "And it always will be. You'll always want more time with the people you love." Gently, she disentangled herself from her son's arms. "But this is not the way to deal with it, Gideon. You can't preserve us—me—in amber until you're ready to move on. However many days I have left, I deserve to live them on my own terms."

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I thought if we could just have a few more days…"

"But we don't," Belle said. "We just had this piece of one day again and again. This doesn't give us more time, it just makes the little we have meaningless."

Gideon sagged, defeated. "I'll… I'll break the spell," he promised. "I'm sorry."

"Wait." Rumple held up one hand. "It may be selfish of me," he said, "but I would rather not end the day like this."

Belle frowned a silent question at him.

A rueful smile played around his lips. "We cannot have forever," he said, and Belle saw the words tear at him, "but we can have… just one more perfect evening." His eyes flickered to Belle. "If you would like that."

Neither of them would remember what had been said in this room, Belle realised. She didn't have to spend her last days knowing that they would be her last. And neither would Rumple.

"I would like that," she said, forcing a small smile. "Maybe this time, I'll get to see that surprise."

They both turned to their son and, wiping the tears from his eyes, Gideon nodded. "OK," he said. "That… yes. Yes, I can do that."

#

Rumple's hand was warm against her back as they both leaned back to watch the night sky. "Any minute, now," he promised. "Any… minute…"

"Look!" Belle pointed at the shooting start hat had cut across the sky. "Should we make a wish?"

"Why just the one?"

Belle was about to ask what he meant, when she saw the second shooting star. And the third. And then an entire meteor shower lit up the sky above them, bright as only a land of magic could make them. Belle laughed, overwhelmed at the sight.

"Any wishes?" Rumple asked her, leaning against her once more.

Belle turned to see his face, bathed in the silvery light of the meteor shower, and kissed the corner of his mouth. "Not a one."

-

[morosoro]

Ooh I like it! I like this one a lot!

Author: Aurifer

Prompts: 3 am talks. Robbery. “You’re stuck with me.”

Group: A

-

out of hows and whys not whens

"Wait!"

The stagecoach slowed its rattling pace across the inn's courtyard and Belle put in a sprint, her feet slipping precariously on the rain-wet cobblestones.

"Wrong coach, Miss," the coachman called when she caught up. "This one's bought out."

Don't I wish…

"I've got a seat," Belle told him, brandishing the slip of paper. "It's all cleared with the proprietor." She didn't wait for a reply, opening the door for herself and climbing inside, heedless of the driver's protests. The solitary passenger glanced up when Belle dropped into the opposite row of seats.

"This a private coach, dearie," he said drily.

Belle froze at the sound of his voice. Not him. Nobody could be this unlucky.

She debated simply leaving but gathered her courage and pushed back the hood of her travelling cloak, instead. Elias Gold, a slight man with unfashionably long hair and the most piercing brown eyes, blinked in confusion.

Then he visibly recoiled. "Belle?"

Belle almost wanted to deny it. No, she might say, maybe you're thinking of some other girl who's head you turned before disappearing for five years. She'd believed that infatuation behind her, but after barely a minute near him, the air had already gone out of the enclosed space.

She couldn't stop staring at his lips.

Damn the man.

"Mr Gold," she said, dragging her eyes away. "How… unexpected to see you again."

His face shut down. "Likewise, Miss French. I was under the impression that I had bought all the seats on this coach."

So it was going to be like this. "You should apply to the coaching inn for a refund, then." The coach lurched and sped up. "But unless you would like to jump out, you're stuck with me."

"It seems that I am." He hadn't taken his eyes off her once, and Belle found herself shifting uneasily under his scrutiny.

"I never heard about your return to the country," she said finally.

"Because I planned on keeping it quiet and leaving quickly." Gold's mouth twisted mockingly. "It might be best if we continued this journey in silence."

Her face burned, but Belle kept her chin raised. "It might."

So they did. Without conversation and darkness falling over the passing landscape, it was hard to tell how much time passed. Belle dozed off more than once, only to jerk awake when they hit a particularly uneven patch of road.

Gold, meanwhile, had taken to staring out the window. For all the attention he paid his fellow passenger, Belle might as well not have existed.

No changes there, then.

Despite her bitter thoughts, Belle was about to doze off again, when she felt the carriage slow down. She glanced outside. "Where's the inn?"

"I doubt this is a planned stop." Gold reached for his cane. "Maybe we should-"

Both doors of the coach slammed open and Belle only had an impression of shapes in the dark before her eyes focused on the barrel of the gun shoved at her face.

"Out," a half-muffled voice commanded.

Before she could react, a hand closed around her upper arm, dragging her outside. It all happened both too fast and so very slowly at once.

"Don't make a fuss," a vaguely familiar voice—the coachman—said. "This isn't about you."

She turned enough to glare at him. Somewhere in the dark, Gold was shouting. "Let go of- Where's Belle? Belle?!"

Her chest tightened at the note of panic in his voice. "Here!"

"Shut it." The barrel of the pistol jabbed into her side again.

Two more men—six in total, Belle thought—brought Gold around. He looked ruffled, but not injured, and when his eyes found hers, something of the tightness in Belle's chest eased.

"Belle," he breathed. "Are you-"

"You shut it, too!" one of the robbers snapped.

"Did you get the case?" the coachman asked.

"Yeah," one of the men flanking Gold replied. "Stuffed under his seat."

"I didn't trust it to storage," Gold said archly. "Congratulations, gentlemen. It's a rare occasion when I haven't been paranoid enough."

Belle almost smiled. She had missed him.

"Good." The coachman looked around uneasily. "We should go."

"But what about-"

"We got what we came for, let's go," the coachman urged.

He appeared to be the leader of the bunch, because despite some grumbling, the others followed his lead and, after tying both Belle and Gold to the carriage, rode off, taking the coach horses with them. Belle closed her eyes for a moment, breathing slowly to calm her hammering heart. Next to her, Gold was a solid, warm presence, and all she wanted was to press her face into the crook of his neck. Neither of them made a sound while they listened to the hoofbeats disappearing into the distance.

"Are you all right?" Gold asked when the night had gone quiet again.

"I'm…" Belle wanted to say 'fine' but that seemed almost painfully dishonest. "I've been better," she admitted. "Do you know what those people were after?"

"I have an idea," Gold admitted. "And about who arranged this incident. Which is why I sent all my important documents ahead three weeks ago. Can you get out of the ropes?"

Belle gaped. "You knew this would happen?"

"I suspected that something would happen," Gold corrected her.

"You could still have told me!"

"Would you have believed me? Would you have left if you had?"

Probably not the first. Definitely not the second. Despite her anger, she didn't have it in her to let him face danger alone. That didn't make him right, but she could hardly argue a point of principle with a man like him. "I'm not sure," she replied finally. "I didn't pay attention earlier."

"Please try," Gold said. "I certainly can't, and I don't want to stand here all night. It'll get colder before dawn."

"Eager to be away from me?" Belle meant it like a joke, but very real hurt had it come out like an accusation.

Gold scoffed. "Eager to get out of this mud; we'll be stuck here for another couple of hours while we wait for-"

"I'm engaged," Belle blurted.

The silence that fell could've been cut with a knife. Gold had gone completely still.

"We- my father never managed to get out of debt, and without funds, the bookshop failed, and Gaston… he offered." He was there, she didn't add. The man had the depth of a puddle, but he'd been there and willing to help.

"I… see." Gold's voice was faint. Distant. "Congratulations."

"Please don't do that." Belle gave her arms one last twist and managed to slip off one loop of the ropes.

"Do what?" Gold asked, coolly.

"This!" Belle angrily tugged at the knots behind her. "Pretend like none of this matters. It's just running away again."

"It seems like you did quite well without me."

Finally, Belle managed to slip out of the ropes and faced Gold. "I was lost without you," she whispered. "For years, I kept wondering if I'd said something, done something to make you hate me this much."

"I never said that I hated you," Gold said quietly. In the moonlight, his eyes were very dark.

"You didn't need to." Belle ducked closer to work at the knots holding him. "You never said anything about leaving until that evening, until…" Until they'd kissed. Almost. Belle shook her head. "Until we got close. And then you were gone!"

"I had business to attend to."

Business that would get a man robbed on dark country streets, it seemed. Belle kept working and kept silent.

"I know who I am, Belle," he said finally, his voice rough and distant again. "I know what I've done, what I might still do. If you'd known me, really, you never could've thought that you loved me."

Belle slipped the last loop of rope off his wrists and stepped back. "I didn't," she said, trying to find his eyes again. "I didn't think that I loved you, Elias, I did."

He swallowed heavily. "Belle…"

I do.

She didn't mean to kiss him. She really didn't. But then his hand found her waist, and their lips met and what she had meant to do didn't matter anymore, because he was right there, in her arms, and if he wasn't letting go, then neither was she.

He took over the kiss that she'd begun, pulling her closer, his tongue tracing over the seam of her lips, leaving behind a trail of fire. Belle sighed into his mouth as something just below her ribcage, coiled tight for so long that she'd almost forgotten it was there, finally relaxed. Warmth flooded her entire body.

It was impossible to say how long they stood there before they—reluctantly—separated, both of them breathing heavily. Only then did the realisation of what they'd just done hit her, and she could see her own sinking panic reflected in Gold's eyes, one question between them.

Now what?

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