Chapter Text
The Dancing Floor
The envelope was hand-delivered, otherwise it would have been so much easier to ignore, or lose. It was lovely; very old fashioned and formal. A royal ball, in Storybrooke. Of course the Prince and Princess had come to talk to him about it beforehand. With no idea when or if they could get back home, and all of them still rattled from the events that had taken place over the last few months, Snow thought a ball was just the answer. It would be the sort of old fashioned affair that they used to have, invite everyone, mend fences, heal wounds, show off finery. The whole thing had made Rumplestiltskin uncomfortable. He'd never been much for socializing, or not since...he was trying to remember when Belle came in.
"What do you think, Belle?" Snow White asked as his love appeared from behind the curtain.
"About what?" she asked, confused. He smiled tenderly; she must have gotten caught up in a book back there and only came out because she had heard them.
"A ball, Belle, with the whole town to come, just like back home," Snow said, excitement in every line of her.
Belle was a serious girl, so she actually thought about it for a moment before answering, but Rumplestiltskin knew there was no hope. As much as he hated it, even he knew it was a good idea. People needed to mend, to heal. Only, he wasn't certain how welcome he would be. Yes, people had mostly stopped avoiding him. The Prince and Princess had been treating him as a trusted advisor. Admittedly he had been advising royal families for quite a while, including but not limited to Snow White's grandfather, and James' adopted Father's great grandfather (his great great grandfather, he had actually done in, but that was neither here nor there). Suffice it to say that Rumplestiltskin wasn't sorry that the line would die with George: in fact he was rather tempted to end George just to make sure (he'd never liked that family). However, he was used to sticking to the shadows, the information and advice he dispensed never openly associated with the Dark One, himself.
"It sounds like a good idea. It will take some time to plan though. When were you thinking?" she said, and before he could say another word, his beloved had a notebook out and was helping Snow White plan it. There was no way he was going to get out of this, but if it made Belle happy… He sighed.
So it was no surprise when the envelope was delivered to his door by Snow White herself. "Belle's been such a big help, I thought I would bring this one by personally," she said when he reluctantly invited her into the house. He'd had more visitors in the last two months than he had in the entire 28 years before that, and while he was getting used to it, it was still tempting to play the old monster, slam the door, and retreat to the basement where his spinning wheel stood.
Belle was also thrilled about it. He could see that from her smile, and regardless of how he felt, if it made her happy, he would do it. That was another aspect, being in public with Belle. It wasn't that he was ashamed of their relationship; he wasn't, never could be. But Belle deserved better; she should be attending the ball with a handsome prince, not an old sorcerer with a bad leg and a worse reputation. He was certain that there was whispering behind their backs, people wondering why she stayed with them, especially among those who knew that she had been a part of a deal. He still lived in fear that he wouldn't be good enough; that somehow, some way, even true love would not be enough. With all his knowledge and all his years of life it was just too good, so instead he clung to what he had, even if it meant going to a ball to please his lady.
Belle was planning her gown. She knew this ball wasn't something that Rumplestiltskin would go to voluntarily if she wasn't determined. But she also knew what was said behind their backs, sometimes in front of her as well, since no one would dare in front of Rumplestiltskin. More than once she had taken someone aside and challenged them on it, and she was sick and tired of it. She was not going to hide, not her love, not her lover. Of course she had Snow and Abigail who understood. Even Bae had been accepting once he had understood the changes in his father that had come with their love, which had been a miracle in and of itself. That relationship was still awkward, but getting better. Her father was another matter; he accepted but would have done anything to change it, up to and including trying to throw any number of men in her path. He had begged and pleaded and told her the deal was no longer valid. The stupid man had even tried to talk to Rumplestiltskin, who had shook his head and said that he had released her long ago.
"Well are you sure it's true love? Have you ever tried not to be in love with him?" he had said to her. She had looked at him as if he lost his mind.
"That's like saying have I ever tried not to be a woman, or curious, or…or any of the things that are a part of my nature; it just is."
"But maybe if you looked at someone else," Maurice had said. But she was done; she had walked out on him and he had been very careful to keep his mouth closed after that. He seemed to forget that she had always made her own choices.
So the gown was ordered; Belle refused to let him see it until that night, because she wanted to surprise him. Rumplestiltskin, finally desperate to make his lady happy, asked the advice of Prince Charming on his own attire, not certain how traditional it was all going to be and not wanting to embarrass his lady by showing up in the wrong attire. It had been difficult, that; he was not a man who found it easy to ask for help, but the Prince managed to help him and even got him round to the tuxedo fitting without letting Belle know. Two could play at that game, after all.
Midsummer’s Eve, traditionally celebrated back in their old land with food, friends, dancing, and other pastimes was, of course, perfect for the ball. So perfect that even the weather was cooperating; warm but not hot, and the mosquitos had been keeping their heads down so far. The afternoon of the party, Belle had rushed upstairs to get herself prepared, while Rumplestiltskin tried not to worry about the evening. She looked so happy, and while he was truly dreading the evening, he would have willingly crawled naked down Main Street in midwinter to make her happy. It was painful to admit, but she made him a better person, and he would do nothing to ever change that. Instead, when she called down from upstairs that she was finished in the bathroom, he went upstairs slowly, to tend his own preparations. Belle, in an effort to keep the secret a moment longer, was getting dressed in her old room, leaving him free to dress in his own room.
It took Rumplestiltskin very little time to wash, brush and shave, and less to dress, leaving him plenty enough time for the nervousness to set in again. The tuxedo was fitted like his suits, and the silk bow tie was the shade of red that Belle particularly loved on him, as was the waist coat. He brushed his jacket to rid it of dust particles that weren't actually there and walked downstairs. In the past when he was uncomfortable, he just shut people out. He would become abrupt or simply walk away. Tonight Belle would expect him to be charming, polite and social. Standing in the lounge, he was starting to give serious thoughts to a large whiskey when he heard Belle emerge from the room and walk down the hall, the sound of her heels echoing in the hallway above.
Turning, he was meet by a vision. Belle, the most beautiful woman in Storybrooke, and she was coming down the stairs, looking at him as if he was the only man in the world. The gown reminded him of the one she had been wearing when they first met, but the colour was richer, the skirt not as full, and he was almost certain that the original dress did not show her bosom to such an advantage. For a moment, a stab of jealousy went through him at the thought of anyone but him seeing her like that, so completely beautiful. "You are going to be the most beautiful woman there," he said, reaching for her hand. "Do you have any idea how tempting it is to try to convince you to stay? I shall have to fight my way through your admirers just to be near you."
"I don't think so. Besides, you are going to be the most handsome man there." Belle took his hand in hers, and went straight into his arms.
"Think I need to get your eyes checked, love. I can make an appointment for you next week," he said with a wry smile.
"My eyes are perfect; you are perfect. You are my true love, and nothing and no one is ever going to change that," she said, raising herself to kiss him. "When are you going to accept that?" she whispered against his ear.
"I'm trying, love, really I am," Rumplestiltskin said. "But come, tonight is supposed to be magical." Belle grabbed a beautiful gold shawl he didn't remember her having, and a small handbag. He took her arm and led her to the front door.
Outside, the old Cadillac was parked, gleaming in the evening light; the man that occasionally helped him out in the pawn shop, Mr. Dove, stood beside it with a rare smile on his face, holding the door for her. Dove had worked for Rumplestiltskin both before and after the curse. Though Belle didn't know the details, she had never asked; it just wasn't that important. The two of them went down the steps, and were guided into the back of the black car and whisked off into the bright evening.
There was no place in Storybrooke big enough to hold the kind of ball that Snow White was envisioning, so they had planned it for the park. When the car arrived, Dove got out and held the door, while Rumplestiltskin got himself out as gracefully as he could. Belle watched him, thinking that her love was remarkably smooth and graceful for a man who walked with a cane, but then she found all his movements beautiful. It would only be better if he could come to believe her. It had taken more time than she would have thought possible to convince him that she wanted him. Love, he accepted. It was magic and he understood that; there was no discounting that was what they had. But the fact that she wanted to have a real relationship with him, a physical relationship despite their age difference and his injury, that had taken a bit of convincing. Still when he looked at her, smiled and reached for her hand, she knew that she would never let go.