#the one where he muses that its not too late to actually talk to roland after the battle is over

[nmoroder]

drops a handful of keter + hokma and leaves

[goggles-mcgee]

Too Late: Tom & Sabine (Commission for miner249er)

This is a sequel to Revolt of the Akuma, also a commission from @miner249er this will be multichaptered! 

Summary: Sequel to Revolt of the Akuma. How Paris and everyone there deals with Marinette’s akumatization and the many things born from it.

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Business was slow but that somehow became the normal for Tom and Sabine, at first they resented it, they truly were busy bodies and they loved to work, needed to work, but then Marinette was akumatized and disappeared. Their baby girl was gone and it felt like there truly was nothing they could do about it. The worst part was they hadn’t even realized she was the akuma at first, they didn’t know things at school had been so bad that Hawkmoth was able to take advantage of their little Baguette’s emotions, and they hadn’t been there to help her through it. Their days seemed routine now, they would wake up at 3 AM instead of their regular 4 AM because of the guilt and the nightmares, they would prep the kitchen then Tom would start on the bread with his father Roland helping out since everything had taken its toll on Tom and he started to become forgetful in things to do with the bakery, even his timing was off. Meanwhile Sabine would attempt to do her morning meditation. The meditation was never successful nowadays because she truly could not clear her mind or calm her heart and memories of Marinette both good and bad would surface and she would be thrown into a fit of sobs that Gina tried her best to help calm. 

Roland learned the hard way that he no longer could hum his and his son’s song while making bread as it had reminded his son too much of Marinette and the larger man would break down in tears if he even heard the slightest bit of the song. He would call out for his daughter while hugging whatever he had in his hands close to his chest. Roland had never been the most affectionate of father’s, he wasn’t even affectionate with his wife, but when he broke down like that, Roland felt the urge to just hold his boy and comfort him. It pained him to see his son in so much pain, but Tom and Sabine were strong people and they picked themselves up in order to get through the day. 

Well, they tried their best and really that’s all anyone expected of the grieving parents. The day Marinette was akumatized and disappeared had been a normal day for them and maybe that’s what filled them with so much guilt. Their bakery was always busy and that was something they took pride in, before Marinette was born, the bakery had been their baby. They made it, helped and watched it grow, and they got to see it flourish. It was a lot of work and sometimes they would just get into this work zone where nothing else could grab their attention. Working with so many ovens and having to prepare so many things, there was only so much you could multitask before your brain felt full. Though those were only excuses, they had been neglecting their daughter and hadn’t realized it. Marinette knew how much they loved their bakery and how busy it could get and she always seemed to understand but now looking back on it maybe she had just pretended to be fine with it all. They tried their best to always ask how her day was when they would all have dinner together, but Tom would be the first to admit that sometimes even that just became routine rather than actual curiosity about their daughter’s day. 

They had deluded themselves into believing that Marinette’s world was rose tinted, and they had taken comfort in the lie. Maybe they truly just wanted to believe that Marinette was their always smiling baby girl and she had no problems to worry about because it would be easier to deal with than the reality. When Marinette had become fascinated with fashion and that fascination grew, Sabine and Tom had been happy and supportive of their daughter, yes their hearts hurt a bit since they had hoped that maybe she would take over the bakery for them, but then they noticed how much time her designing took up. It hurt to think about now but Sabine could remember thinking that it was a blessing that Marinette was distracted and busy because it meant they had more time for the bakery. The more they remembered their shortcomings, the more they felt. They felt too much now after not being able to for so long because of Hawkmoth.

After having to shut down any and all negative emotions, finally being able to express them was like breaking a dam. Crying was never just a little tears, it was always these heart wrenching sobs and it could be for the littlest of things like a broken toy or missing a bus. Anger, now anger was the scariest in everyone's opinion, once someone started yelling it was like they couldn’t stop, they would break things, maybe hoping to see a butterfly, then there was the crying. Everything ended in tears. Anger came quickly nowadays, more so than sadness, though maybe they worked hand in hand now. Tom had found himself more on the depressed side of things, everything made him miss his little Baguette, sometimes he still expected to hear her footsteps racing down from her room and out the door with a shout because she was running late. Sabine on the other hand, everything just made her angry, every little thing. She would even snap at Tom but she would immediately apologize because she knew it wasn’t his fault. If anything she was angry at herself, angry at the school, at Hawkmoth, Hell, even at their bakery.

 Some days she hated waking up to the work and the mingling, there were times where she was so close to just begging her husband to closing the shop for a while and taking a break or maybe closing it permanently. She hadn’t decided yet, but she just told herself to hold on, just hold on till their closing period or ‘vacation time’ as Marinette would say. Perhaps that was the reason why she wasn’t really giving it a serious thought, the whole giving up their boulangerie idea. It held memories, both good and heart-aching, of Marinette. Sabine would never talk about those memories with anyone but family now, but everytime she was working she couldn’t help but look over at their ‘Artisan Boulanger’ sticker at their storefront that was slightly crooked because Tom had been putting it on when Sabine had told him she was pregnant and he had slipped in shock and the sticker was forever a bit crooked. She couldn’t help the way her hands would clench over a box or bag when giving a customer their things, Marinette had designed them and each time she handed them over it felt like she was giving away a little piece of her daughter each time. 

“Have a wonderful day.” Sabine muttered to the latest customer of the day not even caring that her voice came out monotone.

“You as well! Merci Madame.” The young boy who had come in thanked her but Sabine just watched impassively as he hurried over to his friend. “Dude can you believe it? We get to eat pastries that the Protector ate!”

“Correction, we get to eat pastries that Ladybug ate.” His friend responded.

“That hasn’t been proven yet. That’s all just speculation man.” The first boy laughed as they made their way to the door and Sabine had to take in a deep breath or else she might have thrown something. How dare they come into their shop and talk about their daughter as though she wasn’t a person. How dare they treat her akumatization as some spectacle for them to worship and admire. How dare them all.

“Speculation? You are sorely mistaken bro, look at all the evidence! I’ll send you all the links then you’ll see.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Sabine just stared at the young men even after they had left until she no longer could make them out. This. This was why she no longer wanted the bakery, it no longer held the same joy it had when Marinette was there and Sabine and Tom hadn’t even known it until she was gone. 

“Bonjour Madame.” Sabine was ripped from her musings by another customer walking in, a regular in fact, Mlle Josephine Bernard. She had been coming to their boulangerie since they first opened and had always been very kind to Marinette. In fact, she commissioned Marinette a few times as well.

“Bonjour Joséphine." Sabine greeted with a small smile, the most she could manage.

“One rhubarb tart please and a pain de campagne. I’m making stew tonight and my fiance loves when I pair it with your bread.” Joséphine said with a kind smile as she took out her money and change and placed it on the saucer on the counter.

Sabine couldn’t help the soft chuckle that escaped, Joséphine always had exact change and honestly it was a welcome habit to Sabine. “Are you going to share the tart for dessert? It is small, are you certain you would like just one?”

“Oh no, that’s just for me. Our little secret okay?”

“Your secret is safe with me.” Sabine promised as she swiftly gathered Joséphine’s order, once she made her back to the counter to hand everything to the woman she was caught off guard when said woman placed her hand on top of Sabine’s.

“How are you holding up Sabine?” 

First instincts were yelling at her to lie, to say everything was fine despite everyone knowing it was not, but another part of her was yearning for reassurance that wasn’t from her husband or his parents. “I...I’m trying. But it’s hard. It’s hard when people come in and talk about my daughter as if she’s this thing that is more than human, more than just a teenager. They don’t even say her name anymore. Tom and I have had to move and lock away her things because...because people have broken in and stolen her belongings in order to steal or collect them. The police have been no help on that front. They told us to just get better locks. As if it is our fault that people are breaking in.” Sabine took in a shaky breath before continuing, “We get people who leave “gifts” instead. They are letters to Tom and I, accusing us of abusing Marinette...of neglecting our baby. They seem to think we don’t care about what happened to her Joséphine. We’ve had to replace some windows after one incident with a rock and some spray paint.”

“Oh my goodness Sabine! I’m so sorry. You and Tom don’t deserve any of that.” Joséphine gasped out, but Sabine wanted to argue that maybe they did. “That is just cruel and disgusting. If you two ever need anything please don’t hesitate to ask, or if you just need to talk or get out of the house for awhile, call me okay? Things...things will get better.”

“Merci Joséphine...maybe I’ll take you up on that. Enjoy your treats and tell me how Stephan likes everything okay?” Sabine responded after a while.

“I will...I will keep you and Tom and Marinette in my prayers. Merci Madame.” Joséphine said before leaving. 

Sabine’s movements felt robotic as she walked over to the door, locked it, and flipped the sign letting everyone know they would be closing for lunch. It was a small mercy that they were already at the middle of their day. Thankfully Roland and Gina would have lunch ready for them, they had been so helpful through everything but sometimes Sabine couldn’t help but feel like even they blamed Tom and Sabine for what happened to Marinette. Sabine knew how much Gina adored Marinette and she could see how much getting to know Marinette had meant to Roland, to have their granddaughter gone so all of a sudden, they too were grieving in the way they best knew how. They parented and distracted themselves with helping out Tom and Sabine as much as they could, that would be why they were staying with them. She knew how Roland was about them being late to lunch so Sabine made her way to the kitchen to see Tom baking but it looked like he was doing everything on autopilot, she wouldn’t be surprised if he hadn’t even heard Joséphine come in. 

“Tom. Sweetheart. It’s lunchtime, let’s go eat with your parents.” She mumbled as she placed a soft hand on Tom’s shoulder stopping him from decorating the last of the cupcakes he had made. 

“Oh...Lunchtime already?”

“Yeah. Here let me put those on display then we’ll head on up.” She took the tray of cupcakes gently from him and went out to the front again to put them on display where she saw several people looking in their shop. She decided to just ignore them...and the camera flashes, though maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to pull the security gates down just while they were upstairs for lunch. In fact that’s exactly what she did. “Ready to head up dear?”

“Hmm? Oh yeah, ready. Let’s go eat. It’s been a long morning.” Tom said with a small smile. She felt like it was more for her benefit but she still appreciated it all the same. Once they went upstairs they went through the motions of eating lunch and if someone asked Tom and Sabine what they had eaten, they wouldn’t have been able to answer, but they gave the obligatory remarks of, “This is so good thank you,” and,” So good. Maybe you can make it again sometime.” Maybe Roland and Gina saw through them, they probably had and the fact they made no comment about it truly was a blessing. As a way to avoid conversation if they needed to Sabine turned on the television and it just so happened to be the news.

“And as promised viewers video footage of The Protector in action. This footage was donated to us by an anonymous source who had happened upon The Protector out in the open when she was akumatized. I want to warn everybody, the footage may be shocking to some viewers. Roll the clip please.” Nobody spoke. How could they? Sure they knew people still had some weird fascination with their daughter and granddaughter’s akumatization but the news stations had stopped reporting on it or at least they thought they had. Nadja certainly hadn’t given them a heads up about this little ‘special’ of theirs like she had done previously, and yet here they were watching her and Alec talking about their daughter and they wouldn’t even say her name. She has a name. Sabine robotically pressed on the remote to see more info on the program and had to swallow back bile, ‘The Protector Really Paris’s Protector?’ that was the title and already Sabine could feel her anger rising. She didn’t bother reading the summary, she already knew what this special was about.

 She watched as her daughter, her baby girl, bent down in a patch of butterfly bushes crying her eyes out, sobbing out her hurt for anyone and everyone to hear. Her baby, even in the distance of the camera, looked so angry, so torn, she should never had to have felt like that. The video continued on with this person slowly zooming in on Marinette and Sabine had to wonder why this person was recording at all. She could never understand people’s obsessions with filming akumas, at least many filmed from a distance other than Alya and sometimes Nadja but it was always after the fact the person was akumatized. Maybe that’s why this particular video was bothering her so much, this person, whoever they were, they were filming her daughter breaking down because they knew at any moment she would be akumatized or, and the idea made her sick to her stomach, they were hoping she would be akumatized. They were hoping for a chance to have a video go viral, maybe they weren’t  but that’s the only thing that Sabine could rationalize why they would be filming her teenage daughter in the first place.

The video was a bit shaky as it seemed like the person filming didn’t want to be seen even though there was no one else there. Sabine hadn’t realized she started crying until she felt the tears hit her hand. She hated seeing Marinette in pain and her not being able to comfort her. She, her husband, and his parents watched with bated breath as they saw an akuma finally fly into frame and slowly make its way towards Marinette. Sabine wanted to shout out a warning, do something, but she  knew it was pointless and that just made the tears fall more. Everyone watching could tell that Marinette hadn’t noticed the akuma at all as she was still sobbing and wailing, Sabine could feel Tom squeeze her hand and she squeezed his right back. Then the akuma landed and merged but that wasn’t the shocking part, they had to watch their daughter stare at nothing with too-wide eyes and the familiar symbol of Hawkmoth over her face sit there as dozens...no, maybe hundreds of butterflies, white butterflies surrounded Marinette and landed on her body. 

Then a bright light flashed, it was so unlike any akumatization anyone had seen, the butterflies were gone but if you looked closely at the fading light surrounding Marinette you could see the faint flutter of wings. Then she stood up, the Protector stood up. Sabine sobbed and not for the first time cursed at her daughters classmates, they had been around Marinette the most, they knew her daughter, she did everything for them and yet they treated her like that. To the point of akumatization. Sabine prayed that her little girl wasn’t actually Ladybug like it was speculated, even if it made sense, because that would mean her daughter had been suffering through more than just everything going on at school and really, Sabine wasn’t ready to face all of that just yet.

“Now before we discuss everything in that video I will say we do have many more to share so stay tuned Paris!”

Next Chapter

[imgilmoregirl]

A Rose of the Forbidden Love

AO3 Link

Notes: Thanks to everyone who read this story until here and thanks for your patiance with my slow updates. We finally have a happy ending! Hope you enjoy it.

Chapter Seventeen

The church was quiet and silent that night. I had been a long while since Rose last set a foot there with a good motivation and she didn’t know exactly what dragged her there after work when she should be hurrying home to see her sweet baby girl. There were still lots of things to be done and discussed and now that Roland’s apartment – their apartment – was finally perfectly furnished, ready for them to move in, she couldn’t wait until they settled everything for their wedding.

Henry and Ella had decided to share the date with them and they were planning a camp ceremony with very few friends and Cristal, her future brother-in-law loyal furry friend entering with a board that said “true love always finds its way” hanging from her neck. They weren’t on a hurry and Rose was glad for that because everything in her life usually happened to fast, so taking things slow was a luxury she was quite enjoying.

She sat on one of the benches, looking up at the cross at the centre of the church without knowing what she should do. Should she thank the Lord for what she had? Cry for what she hasn’t? Should she pray for her family or ask forgiveness for her sins? At this point, Rose had no idea. She sighed, rubbing at her engagement ring and trying to think when she heard steps echoing and glanced at the side corridor, seeing a small, slender figure coming from the shadows.

“Rose,” he father blinked a surprised smile appearing in his lips. “Dearest, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Neither did I,” she answered, following him with her eyes as he took a seat beside her. “Think about coming back to the church?”

Gold shook his head, seeming to be a bit uncomfortable with what he was about to say, he clasped his hands on his lap, eyes focused on the altar, avoiding her glance.

“Actually,” Adam said, carefully, “I was arranging the last details of the wedding with Father Murray.”

“Oh, I forgot about that.”

“I want you to come and so does Belle,” he told her, grasping her thin, cold hand and making Rose look up at him. “I’ll understand if you don’t, but I still want you to.”

She smiled, even against her best will. Rosalie couldn’t put into words how much she loved her father and wanted him to be happy, but he was getting married with her mother and that couldn’t be hardest for her to face. Even after the things Fiona said and the many times Belle tried to apologise, Rose couldn’t still change the things she felt.

“I was thinking yesterday… It is a funny story, right? How everything went perfectly wrong.”

“Aye, I believe so,” Gold agreed with her. “Funny, but tragic.”

A sigh left her. He was gently rubbing her finger between his, occasionally brushing the piece of white gold and peridot she now wore daily. She hadn’t told him about Roland’s proposal, although he already knew about their plans of getting married ever since Ivy’s death.

“She tried to talk to me, many times. Miss French,” Rose felt a bad taste on her mouth to use those words to call Belle, but she couldn’t yet call her a mother. “I wish I could talk to her like I’m doing with you right now but abandoning me wasn’t the only thing she did. I lost my job because of in the moment I most needed it. She made me feel like I wasn’t worth anything.”

“Belle was hurt, Rose. She was bitter, she didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“She didn’t mean to hurt her daughter. If I was just Rosalie Weaver like she thought I was, she wouldn’t even regret it,” Rose snorted and when Gold arched an eyebrow at her words, she felt her shoulder shrink a bit. “Sorry, I know that I’m sounding bitter now.”

With a mere shook of his head, Gold left her hand and cupped her cheek, brushing his thumb against her rosy skin. He had that look on his face again, the one he always wore when he was feeling guilty and wishing that he would change the past.

“You have all the rights to.”

“I lost my faith, father,” she said. “I used to come to the church because I believed in something. The nuns taught me to pray and live by a code, but after everything that happened to me, I didn’t know if there was any God out there that could care for my silly life.”

“Don’t talk like that child,” he reprehended her, assuming the kind of tone he used when he was a priest. Gentle but firm. “I see a ring on your finger, I know you that have the most devoted friends and the most beautiful daughter. You’ve won as much as you’ve lost in the past two years. God doesn’t give us what we can’t take and He traces the most wonderful paths for the most special people.”

She dropped her gaze to the black purse on her lap. Years ago, even as a hopeless child, she would have believed it, but now, she found it a hard to do so, because even though she had things to be grateful for, Rose still felt like life had been too unfair with her.

“I know, I’ve been trying to convince myself of that, lately,” she whispered.

“Forgive your mother, Rose, then you’ll see your saving grace again,” Gold advised. “Bad thoughts kill as much as any decease.”

Sniffling, she nodded and enlaced her arms around him, laying her head on his shoulder and allowing Gold to pull her closer. It was good to feel like a child sometimes, even more if you had a lot of time to make up for.

“Thank you, for having my back, as always.”

“We still need a bridesmaid,” Gold remarked as he kissed the top her head.

A tiny smile spread on Rose’s lips. She wasn’t going to promise anything right now, but she was going to think about it.

Moving had been a whole new trouble Rose didn’t ever want to go through a second time. When she moved from the orphanage to the apartment she shared with Sabine and Jacinda – which was now only Sabine’s – she had very few things to carry, but somehow along the last two years she accumulated a large number of things. She had no idea Izzy herself had so many stuff, but she guessed that people loved to give little gifts to babies, which was why they had to fill two cars with toys.

Neal and Henry had been of great help, but it was still one of the most tiring things she had ever done in her life, even more considering that she freaked out with Roland’s lack of sense for tying a house and made him seat on a corner and watch as she did it all by herself. Rose couldn’t complain much to be clear because she was building she always wanted to have and she could feel sure that her daughter would have the childhood she had always wanted.

It didn’t mean she stopped thinking about her encounter with her father at the church, though. After a whole week living in new home, already used to a nice routine. Rose was making dinner while Roland played with Izzy, thinking about her parent’s wedding until her fiancé’s voice took her out of musings.

“Is she saying something?” He asked aloud, taking an attentive look at their daughter.

Roland was bouncing her up and down, making Izzy giggle and babble some monosyllabic sounds. Her eyes, once almost black were now getting a caramel tone that reminded Rose of Gold’s, her mouth had taken the petal shape hers – and she need to admit Belle’s too – lips had, but her hair, that was now starting to grow had taken the wavy light-brown shade of Roland’s.

“Obviously not, she is a five-month-old.”

“I’m pretty sure that ‘ah ah’ means something.”

“I want food, maybe? I need a diaper changing? I want daddy to stop making silly faces at me?”

“You’re mean.”

Rose rolled her eyes at him, leaving the sauce to boil as she took the baby from his arms and pressed lots of kissed on her cheek. She let herself fall on the couch beside him a she snuggled little Izzy, hearing her lovely giggles and feeling selfish again. Once she thought herself to be nothing but a decent human being for taking care of her child, now as Fiona’s words echoed in the back of her mind, she considered she was mostly lucky.

“Rol, can I ask you something?”

“If this is about Friday night’s dessert, I’m sorry to say that my mother will insist in making apple pie again and nothing can change her mind,” he said, standing up and going to check on their dinner.

“No, it is not about that,” she assured him. “I like Regina’s pie very much.”

“Then what’s up?”

Placing Izzy sat down on her lap, Rose wondered if it was a good idea to have this conversation, but she couldn’t find the peace of mind to stop thinking about the wedding and her father’s pleading eyes to her when he last begged the girl to come and celebrate with them.

“You know my parents are getting married on Sunday, right?”

“Belle send us an invitation,” Roland answered arching an eyebrow at her as he poured the sauce above the pasta she left ready to go. “I told you three weeks ago.”

“Did you? Well, anyway, do you think I should go?”

Roland went back to where she was, touching her face and offering Rose a tender smile.

“I think you should do what your hearts tells you to. I don’t want you to regret not going or appearing at the church and not feeling comfortable at all,” he said. “But I also think you should know that if you don’t give your mother a chance, maybe at some point she will stop trying for a reconciliation.”

“I know,” she murmured, avoiding Roland’s glance, knowing that he was right and not wanting to give in.

Izzy made a loud wail, pulling at her hair, begging for attention and Rose stood up rocking her gently and untightening the grip of her small fingers around her curls. Roland offered to take the baby from her again, taking one of her favourite comforters from the toy box to help Izzy calm down, until she was softly sucking at her own thumb again.

“I spoke to Alice today,” Roland told Rose, winking at her as he added: “The bridesmaids are wearing blue.”

It wasn’t until the very last minute that Rose dragged Neal into shopping. He was the only one who had seen the exact shade of blue Belle had chosen for her bridesmaids and the only one who would keep his mouth shut if she decided not to appear after all. She bought and off-the-shoulder dress in a delicate, fancy fabric, one of the kind the Hooded Beauty would produce, but certainly not one so pricey.

Jacinda was the one to style up her hair, while Sabine did her make-up with the perfection of talented hands. All three of them went to the wedding without telling a word to anyone, although Rose was pretty sure Roland had confirmed their presence to his mother, who as one of Belle’s best friends, would certainly be there.

She was nervous. Extremely nervous. Rose had rejected Belle many, many times and most of her remembrances of their time together were of her mother being cruel and bitter to her. She felt afraid of being rejected herself, in front of everyone, just like the day Belle fired her after catching her making out with Roland. It had been a dreadful and Rose wasn’t willing to repeat it, but she wasn’t doing this just for herself or for Belle, but for her father too and he was more than worth the risk.

When Rose reached the front of the church after giving Roland and Izzy a kiss of goodbye, she found Alice waiting in there too with a similar dress, her hair carefully pinned to one side of her head, adorned by a white gold and sapphire piece of jewellery

“I knew you would come,” the blonde squealed when she saw her, throwing her arms around Rose’s tiny and thin frame.

“Did you?”

“We both knew,” Gideon answered, approaching them with the most handsome smile on his lips. “Welcome home, sis.”

“Thank you, both of you.”

Alice pulled away from her and Gideon offered an arm to both his sisters, taking them in and walking them down the aisle to the place where the bridesmaids were supposed to sit, but they were stopped by Gold’s surprised gasp, his watery eyes focused on them.

“You came,” he said, stupefied.

“Of course, I did,” Rose answered. “I like witnessing happy endings and after all the painful journey needs a reward, right? Because God chooses wonderful paths for special people.”

“Aye.”

There were tears in Rose’s eyes now too, the happiness clear in her father’s expression enough to make her heart seem about to burst with happiness. He was right all along and she only noticed how true his words were now that she was here.

“Expect me to call you my dad from now on,” Alice interfered with a wink, poking Gold with the bouquet she was holding.

A chuckle left Rose as she sat down on the bench beside Alice – well, her sister – barely believing that she was really there. She could feel Gideon’s heavy hands on their shoulders and watch as Gold’s expression changed and he seemed to hold onto a breath when the church’s doors were opened again to allow Belle French in.

She looked stunning on one of the most beautiful wedding gowns she had ever seen in her life. It was white, but the tulle above it had small gold glittery flickers that gave the impression that she was a shining star. No resentment could ever prevent Rose from admitting now that she was one of the most stunning women she had ever seen.

“You look beautiful,” Gold whispered.

“You don’t look bad too,” Belle teased, before she caught a sight of her daughter sat on the corner beside Alice. “Rose.”

“Hey, mother.”

Father Murray – the church’s new priest - looked between the two of them and so did everybody in there. Rosalie was lucky she wasn’t a shy person otherwise she would already be wishing to disappeared.

“You know, we can’t continue with this wedding if we don’t have an emotional hug first,” the priest said.

In that moment, with his permission of taking a moment before starting the ceremony, Belle approached Rose, blinking away some tears and trying to decide if she was dreaming or not.

“Why are you here?”

“It was time to flip up the page,” the girl shrugged. “I’m sorry for everything I said. I can forget the past.”

Rose opened her arms for her and Belle took a step into them, hugging her daughter for the very first time ever since she left her as a baby at the doorstep of an unknown person and it felt like a new beginning. Gold joined the hug, pulling the two of them into his on arms and Rose could hear Gideon and Alice sniffling, full of emotion, at the scene.

“I love you two,” Gold murmured, kissing both of their cheeks.

Rose smiled at them and for the first time, she felt home.

“Go get married you two.”

They laughed, shed some tears and exchanged the most beautiful votes she had ever heard. That night Rosalie Weaver understood what it was like to have a family and to feel love, she learned the power of forgiveness and promised herself to whatever she did in her life, she wouldn’t forget her father’s most valuable advice. The rockiest paths were made for the toughest people.

[strangelymagic]

Give Me Wings Ch 3: Take Me Home Tonight

The walk to the bar quickly grew awkward as the silence between them lingered just a moment too long. Neither of them could really think of anything to say that wouldn't sound completely awkward. Bog was obviously lost in his own thoughts and Marianne took this chance to really look at her unlikely companion. Bog was walking slightly hunched over as if he was trying to shrink himself down even the tiniest bit. His elegant hands were stuffed in the pockets of his leather jacket and his shoulders were tense with nerves or anger. Marianne honestly couldn't tell by the look on his face.

She knew as soon as she walked into the famous little shop that the lanky man behind the counter was the cover up artist that she had been researching. His work was beautiful and generally edged towards the dark, emotional side of the tattoo spectrum. It was the perfect style for what she wanted. While she knew he was the perfect artist she had no idea that he was a perfect gentleman as well. His grim look had melted away into nerves the moment she took off her shirt and she had a feeling that he wasn't used to nudity despite his profession. It had been oddly charming to say the least.

Marianne chanced a long glance at his face, taking in the sharp angles, the furrowed brow and the way that his lips seemed to naturally draw into a frown. At a longer glance she noticed that his face was littered with various small scars that interlocked and connected his lips to his stubble-covered chin. To put it mildly he looked like a badass.

Marianne felt a spark of arousal run through her at the thought but she quickly snuffed out the tentative feeling. She was done with love, she was done with all of those feelings because she knew exactly what happened when you gave in. You got burned. Bad. She physically shook herself and the movement seemed to pull Bog out of his trance.

Marianne looked up at him with a smirk and he blushed but returned it with a snarky look of his own. Before she could say anything her companion suddenly stopped walking. Marianne almost tripped over herself as she tried to stop with him, but she quickly caught herself.

"Well here we are." Bog reached out and pulled open an ornate wooden door to reveal a dimly lit pub that was filled with what seemed like half the town, "Welcome tae th' Dark Forest."

Marianne slowly walked into the bar, her big brown eyes wide with amazement as she took in the simple wooden furniture, the myriad of people drinking and socializing, and best of all the rock and roll memorabilia that littered the walls. There were signed posters, concert shirts and even a few guitars. Marianne chuckled when she saw that one corner of the bar seemed to be devoted to the King himself, Elvis Presley. There was even an old-fashioned jukebox complete with various records and flashing lights.

She let Bog lead her to the bar where she plopped herself on a cushy bar stool. Once she got settled she looked to her left to find that Bog was not in the other empty bar stool like she had expected. Her heart pounding a little bit she swiveled around to scan the crowd for her lanky companion. Just when she was starting to feel like she had been ditched she felt someone tap on her shoulder. She turned around to find Bog on the other side of the bar, wearing an apron and smirking at her as he leaned against the bar. Marianne felt her mouth go dry and a familiar heat flare up in her chest. He looked like he belonged there behind the bar, casually serving drinks and sending her smirks that made shivers crawl up her spine.

"So you work here huh?" She asked, accepting the drink he handed her out of nowhere. She hadn't even seen his hands moving he had made it so quickly. She took a test sip as he chuckled and wiped down the counter. It seemed like a nervous motion but Marianne was distracted from analyzing the lanky bartender as the burn of good alcohol warmed her throat. She let out a contented noise and reexamined the drink that he had handed her. It was an expertly made Manhattan in a simple mason jar. Now that she looked around all of the drink we're in mason jars, another level of charm to this comfortable place.

"Actually... Ah own it." Bog sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck and Marianne's eyes widened in surprise as she took another drink. As if anticipating all of the questions that were rolling around in her head Bog leaned forward and kept talking in that wonderfully raspy, harsh voice.

"Ah work days at th' tattoo shop an' nights here." He began to wipe down some dirty glasses that were waiting on the counter. Marianne was about to ask one of the millions of questions that were flying around her head when a piercing shriek echoed through the bar, silencing everyone.

Bog winced and gently set down the glass, his body tensing in preparation for whatever or whoever had managed to bring a clamoring bar to silence. He glanced at her briefly and shook his head when a short, older woman with fiery red hair appeared at the other end of the bar.

"'M sorry." He grumbled to Marianne before the woman started shrieking at Bog, her voice drowning out anything else that he might have said.

"And where the hell have you been young man?!" She roared as she stomped over to Bog. Marianne sat back in her barstool and watched the exchange with great interest, still sipping her Manhattan. She had to admit, this tiny little woman looked like she could wipe the floor with Bog in that moment.

"Well ah was-" Bog tried to answer the question but the woman just continued on with her tirade.

"You were at that goddamn tattoo shop again with that...that dastardly woman!" Her voice increased in volume and Marianne winced as the shrill noise rattled her ear drums, "You should have been here! We’re a full house tonight and my bartender was nowhere to be found."

"Mum Ah can explain-" he tried again but this time he was cut off by Marianne, who decided that she should probably intervene before something or someone got broken.

"Um actually ma'am. I’m the reason that he was late.” The woman’s fury quickly melted away into shock and then glee as she examined Marianne head to toe. Her muddy brown eyes were glinting like a predator that had finally captured its prey.

“Oh! Well in that case there’s no problem at all dearie.” Her voice was sickly sweet and her grin was so huge that it looked like it might break her face in half. She elbowed Bog in the side, pulling his attention away from Marianne and back to her.

“You take good care of this one honey. Drinks are on the house!” She practically skipped back into the kitchens, the entire bar watching her go in confused silence. As soon as she disappeared into the kitchen the patrons resumed what they were doing before her outburst. Marianne gave Bog a confused look, one of her perfect eyebrows raised in a silent question.

Bog just shook his head in exasperation and began making drinks for the other patrons at the bar, “Dorn’t ask.”

Marianne giggle and settled in the comfortable bar stool so that she was leaning on the counter, the perfect vantage point to watch the lanky tattoo artist/bartender do his thing. He moved around behind the bar like he had been doing it his entire life.

He wasn’t the type of bartender that chatted a lot with the customers, rather they seemed to appreciate and understand his stony silence. It wasn’t until he drifted back over to her that the tiny smile appeared on his face, pulling his scars slightly. It made her heart flutter suspiciously in her chest but she quickly forced it back into the little box that she had sealed shut the moment she found Roland wrapped up in the arms of her bridesmaid. Love had no place in her life anymore. Bog had potential to be her friend, and she wasn’t going to let it go anywhere else.

To stave of any other unwanted feelings she downed the rest of her drink, letting the burn of the alcohol as it roared down her throat like a waterfall distract her from her wayward heart. A rough chuckle pulled her from her musings and brought her attention back to the gruff tree of a man that was sliding her a new drink.

“Woah! Slow down there Tough Girl. Ye dorn’t wanna end up like ‘er.” He smirked and gestured to the a young woman passed out in a corner, cradling her margarita glass to her chest like a beloved stuffed animal. Marianne frowned in distaste as she took in the sparkly slutty clothes and the caked on layers of makeup. The girl was the exact opposite of Marianne and she glared up at the smug Scotsman with all of the ire in her tiny body.

“Psh!” She took a hefty swig of her new drink and stuck her tongue out at him defiantly, “I’m some lightweight. I may be small but I am mighty.” She flexed and struck a couple poses, growling defiantly under her breath when Bog just leaned against the counter and watched her with a look that could only be akin to that of an adult humoring a small child.

“Yeah sure.” He snorted as he poured himself a glass of whiskey and took a sip.

“Hey! I don’t appreciate your tone Twig Boy. I can out-drink anyone here, especially you.” She declared, glaring up at him. He looked down at her in shock, his icy blue eyes widening slightly in surprise before they practically smouldered with confidence.

“Let me get this straight. Ye think ‘at ya can drink me under th’ table? Me?” He snorted and drank the rest of his whiskey in one gulp without even flinching.

“I don’t think. I know I can.” She pounded the rest of her drink and gave him a challenging look, which only made that smirk of his transform into an eager grin that gleamed in his eyes and made him look so…alive.

Marianne pushed her feelings down again, frustrated with their rebellious escapades since she had met the lanky grump. It didn’t help that his voice was so husky and hot as fuck.

"Och ho ho. You’ve dain it now Princess.” He chuckled and took off his apron, his eyes never leaving Marianne molten gaze, “Marsha! We got a shot challenge here. Take ower fur me.”

A female bartender grinned excitedly and began preparing a tray full of shots with various colors and types of liquor. Marianne cracked her knuckles and rolled her shoulders, but every other thought except for intense lust disappeared the moment he cracked his neck.

It was like a switch was suddenly flipped inside of her, and all she wanted to do was pin him to an available surface and have her way with him. She struggled with the all-consuming feeling for a second until the shots appeared in front of her like a godsend. She snatched up a bright blue one and swallowed it like a champ.

Bog watched her with a raised eyebrow, and then picked up a deep green shot. And thus the challenge began. Slowly the rest of the bar patrons drifted over to watch the heated competition between the two stubborn drinkers. Even Steph and Theo had drifted away from their positions to watch the heated exchange.

About 10 shots in, Marianne was gripping the counter and Bog was definitely slumped slightly against the counter. Both of their faces were bright red and their pupils were dilated as they stared one another down.

“You’re daein’ pretty guid, fur a wee fairy." He growled out as he took another shot, his adorable accent thickening with each shot.

“Thanks,” she took another shot, “Wish I could say the same for you.”

Bog’s eyes narrowed dangerously and he practically growled at her. It made her simultaneously angry and aroused, a confusing but manageable combination.

“Whit dae ye mean??” he glared down at her, his employees and regulars watching with interest, almost like it was an actual fight and not a shot challenge.

“I was expecting something…” She gave him a sultry look as she played with an empty shot glass, “…more?”

Behind her, Theo and Steph covered their mouths to hide their snickers as their boss snarled at the sassy little fairy perched on the stool. Never once breaking eye contact, Marianne and Bog simultaneously took a shot. Suddenly the competition had become a race and the two were downing shots like they were going out of style.

When the tray was empty and the counter was littered with empty glasses Marsha came in to count up the glasses and determine the winner. As soon as she was finished counting she took a deep breath and glanced between the two competitors, the anticipation building as everyone held their breath and Bog and Marianne swayed dangerously, trying to keep it together.

“It a tie!” She finally announced and the bar was filled with a chorus of groans as people started to disperse and head for the doors. Now that the crowds had quieted, the roar of thunder and the sound of hard rain as it beat down on the roof was finally revealed. Marianne, as drunk as she was, groaned aloud and glared at the door as if it had personally insulted her.

“Fuuuuck. I see how it is. You get me drunk and now I have to stumble around this town in the rain looking for somewhere to stay.” She grumbled and shouldered her leather jacket back on, struggling with it until finally she was hopelessly tangled in her favorite leather jacket.

She threw it on the ground hopelessly and let out an annoyed grunt. Bog chuckled as he watched her wriggle around in front of the bar. He started gathering the empty shot glasses onto his tray for a few seconds before he realized that he was much too drunk to be handling breakables. He stumbled out from behind the bar and looked down in confusion when his foot came in contact with Marianne’s leather jacket. He leaned down and swept it up into his arms, looking around the already spinning room for the captivating woman that it belonged to.

Marianne was staring at the door in confusion as she debated going out into the storm or finding a nice comfy booth to sleep in. She heard someone clear their throat behind her and she whipped around to find Bog standing there holding out her favorite leather jacket and giving her a shy, lopsided smile that revealed his charmingly crooked teeth. Her heart thumped in her chest and she tentatively took the jacket back.

“Thanks Bog. I should… I guess I should go.” She looked reproachfully at the door leading out into the raging storm. Bog followed her gaze and winced when a particularly loud crack of thunder shook the building. The gentleman in him balked at the thought of letting her go out into that storm. Every part of him fought the image of her trudging through an unfamiliar town, especially in this storm, so he did something completely out of character and unexpected, even by him.

“Ye could live wi' me. Ah live upstairs an’ Ah hae an extra room.” he blurted out and Marianne looked up at him with blatant shock in her golden eyes. They stood in silence for a second, his pale cheeks bright red with the drink and embarrassment and her mouth gaping wide. It felt like they stood there forever, staring at each other in silence, with only the sounds of the angry storm between them.

“Ok.”