Chapter Text
The faint galloping stride of horses lured Belle’s attention away from the novel she was currently reading. Springing into action, her hands grappled over the numerous disheveled books laid out on her father’s desk. She let out a sigh of relief as her fingers found her secret leather journal buried beneath a sizeable volume on ancient werewolf folklore.
As the sound of horses drew nearer, she bolted out of her father’s office, making a beeline for her bedroom. Safely tucking the journal beneath her mattress, she headed for the living room, just as a loud thud hit the roof followed by storm of shrilling caws.
Concerned by the commotion she ran to the front door flinging it open. Inwardly she groaned at the unpleasant sight of Gaston Legrume standing in her yard with a handful of rocks in his hand. Baffled she was about to ask him what he was doing, when he pulled his arm back lunging a large rock up at the roof. A tiny shriek pierced the air, as a small black bird fell dead to the ground before her. A rush of anger flooded her heart at the sight of the poor dead creature.
“How dare you!” she roared storming down off the porch, heading straight for him.
Casually he looked down at her with a smirk of amusement, fueling her anger even more. Lifting her arm, she smacked the remaining rocks from his hand, before giving him a hard shove. Although she used all of her strength to push him, he stood unmoved, steady as a tree, peering down at her with a mocking grin.
“Your daughter is a feisty little thing isn’t she?” he chaffed his stare fixed on her, as he spoke to her father who sat on his horse a few yards away.
Incensed by his total lack of regard for the creature’s life he just took, she fought her primal urge to slap that smug grin off of his stupid face. Even though he towered a good foot and a half above her, she stared the buffoon down with a fury hotter than a thousand suns. Leaning over, he brought his overbearing presence mere inches away from her face.
“I was only trying to help,” he taunted her in a long drawn out patronizing tone. “This place is infested with crows. Every time I come here there are more than ever before. If I didn’t know any better I would say this place is cursed.”
“The only curse here is when you come around,” she spat out feeling a tad jovial as the arrogant smile fell from his face.
“Play nice you two,” her father chided, dismounting his horse.
Taking a step back from Gaston, she acknowledged her father’s words by giving him a curt nod. Her focus stayed on her father as she watched him take Phillipe back behind the house to the open paddock. Once he was out of view, Gaston’s looming shadow casted over her.
“I can only hope you have that same fire in the bedroom.”
“That is something you will never know,” she fired back taking a step forward to put some distance between them. She cringed as his pompous laugh slithered into her ears.
“Oh we will be married soon enough, and I assure you I look forward to seeing what else your crude little mouth is good for.”
“I will never marry you.”
She stomped up the porch stairs, ready to slam the door behind her, when he called out.
“You know, any maiden out there would die for the chance to have just ten minutes with me, let alone the honor of being my wife. What makes you think that you are so damn special huh?” he pondered bringing his hand up, stroking his chin, as if he was contemplating some great thought. “You know your father mentioned that you have been spending a lot of time with the Lucas girl over the last few months.”
Utterly confused as to where he was possibly going with this, Belle turned around shrugging. “So?”
“I’m just saying if that is the type of thing you are into, I’m sure we can come to some type of agreement. Our marital bed will certainly be large enough to accommodate another, I mean, as long as I am there of course. We can invite the Lucas girl in time to time, as well as other ladies, of my choosing.”
Scoffing she wasn’t the least bit surprised by his assessment. Of course if a woman showed no interest in him, his fragile male ego would assume she had to be gay. Turning on her heel, she walked back into her home, slamming the door behind her.
Stewing she retreated to her father’s office as the front door opened behind her. Not having the patience to deal with Gaston for a moment longer, she was about to tell him exactly where he could go, when her father’s face appeared in the doorway.
“I asked Gaston to go fetch some firewood.” He said smiling at her, taking a seat on the settee against his office wall.
“Thank you, Papa,” she breathed out a sigh of relief, moving to join him. Reaching for his hands, she sat next to him. “I’m glad your back. How did everything go in town?”
“Fine,” he replied giving a stiff nod. “Mrs. Potts funeral is scheduled for the day after tomorrow. It appears that the scoundrels that broke into the morgue last night for some ungodly reason stole her eyeballs.”
Belle was certain that the temperature in the room had risen by ten degrees, as a nervous sweat built on her upper lip. Trying to keep her shaking hands still, she averted her eyes from his certain that they screamed loud and clear her guilt in the theft at the morgue.
. “Do they have any idea who the thieves were Papa?”
“The guard said the one man had papers, proclaimed to be a doctor, and the second man wore a rather large hat. But for the life of him, he couldn’t remember their names, or recall what their faces looked like.”
“Strange,” Belle croaked out, clearing her throat. It had been Rumple’s suggestion to send Dr. Frankenstein, and Jefferson to do the task. Judging by the guard’s fuzzy memory, it appeared that Jefferson’s special brew of coffee, worked perfectly. With the victim’s eyes secured, she just had to wait for Rumple to come back from his travels, with the collected ingredients needed for the spell. Soon they would learn who the real murderer of Mrs. Potts was.
“But on a brighter note the town is throwing a party next week in appreciation for slaying the monsters that killed those poor women. Gaston and I are to be their honored guests.” Her father looked so proud of the accolade that it broke her heart to speak ill of it.
The nightmare had begun four months ago, when Ashley Boyd, a young maiden of 16, was found floating face down in Lake Placid. The town was outraged by her death, and the outrage, grew into a mob of panic and fear, as Ashley’s older sister Drusilla emerged from the woods, claiming that she had witnessed a sea creature murdering her sister.
It was only logical that a town gripped in fear of a monster turned to her father, Gabrielle Van Helsing for aid. Long retired, her father was as surprised as she was at the town’s accusations of a murderous amphibious monster on the loose. It had been almost 15 years since anyone claimed of a monster attack.
Although her father’s mind was still sharp as a tack for the hunt, time had betrayed his body, leaving his physicality waning. It seemed like a perfect match when Gaston, widely known for his superior hunting and tracking skills volunteered to assist her father in the hunt of this monster. With her father’s expertise, and Gaston’s physicality, no creature within a 100 mile radius was safe.
The town let out a sigh of relief when Van Helsing and Gaston returned with the head of the creature that had supposedly killed poor Ashley, but when her sister Drusilla was found a month later with her throat slashed, the town once again demanded the head of the monster that did it. Once again Belle’s father and Gaston rose to the occasion, bringing justice for the young maiden’s death, but were soon facing another murder, the latest being Mrs. Potts who was found strangled in the woods.
“Belle, you must really learn to get along better with Gaston.”
Rolling her eyes she tried to give her father some clarity on what type of man Gaston really was. “He’s terrible father. He’s conceited, and boorish, and he always says the crudest things when your back is turned. When you stop your…association with him, I plan on never seeing that troublesome oaf again.”
As her father’s grasp on her hands tightened she could sense that he was growing more irritated.
“And what’s so terrible about him, hmmm?” Her father scolded, his hold becoming unbearable. “He is a hero. He’s made a name for himself now, protecting people from monsters.
At the festival next week, the town will be gifting him with the same honor they gave me all those years ago, an acre of land for every monster slain. Given time, he will have as much land as I do. He will be able to build an estate, provide you with the life you have been accustom to.”
With some force, she was able to pull her hands free from her father’s death grip. She bit her tongue trying to stop herself from lashing out and saying something that she couldn’t take back. It was true that she had enjoyed the life her father provided for her. They lived far out of town, on 27 acres of land, one acre for every monster her father had killed over his lifetime. He had cleared two acres of the land to build their home, surrounded by acres of undeveloped forest. She enjoyed the isolation, leaving her plenty of time, to read her father’s extensive collection of books on the supernatural.
While most little girls grew up with skills of cooking and sewing, Belle learned about the creatures of the darkness. She developed her writing skills by transcribing her father’s explorations, as he dictated his adventures to her. Many of the books that filled their library were written by her own hand. Secretly she had hoped to one day publish them, to educate the public on the creatures that they long feared. Although her father’s tales talked of monsters soulless nature towards violence, Belle secretly theorized that perhaps they were just misunderstood, and that it was man that brought the violence to the monsters.
“Now Gaston has let his attention be known to me that he would like to enter a courtship with you.”
Her eyes widened in fear. He wouldn’t. The father she knew and loved wouldn’t subject her to a life shackled to pompous arrogant ox.
“And I have agreed to it.”
Her stomach dropped, as tears streamed down her cheeks.
“Calm down child. It’s not marriage. At least not yet. But I think you should take the time to get to know him, see what he can offer. You might be surprised to find a little bit of your father in him.”
This couldn’t be happening. Shaking her head no, she wiped away her tears. Now, she thought to herself. Do the brave thing, and bravery will follow. She needed to tell her father the truth. She needed to tell him what she had secretly been doing the last few months, and with whom.
“Papa, monsters didn’t kill those women.” She shouted out waiting for his reaction, but was hit with his silence. “It’s just what someone, the real murderer, wanted us to believe. Those women died by human hands.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Her father snarled. “Gaston and I caught the monsters that did it.”
“You caught monsters Papa, but innocent ones. Don’t you understand, there is a murderer about, and they have framed these creatures?”
“Enough!” her father‘s voice bellowed through the air as he walked towards his desk in a fit of rage. “I will not stand here and listen to these unfounded accusations on my character or your future husband’s. We hunted and killed the creatures that murdered those innocent women, and if you speak one more word of this fictional nonsense, than I will have no choice but to have you committed for medical observation for hysteria.”
Mouth agape, Belle stood shell shocked at her father’s threat. Who was this man before her? The man threatening to put her in an asylum was not the same man who raised her to be bold and courageous. He had changed over these last few months. These murders had boasted him back into the spotlight of the people once more, and it was obvious to her that he reveled in being their savior against the wicked in this world. Who needed a daughter’s love, when you had the admiration of a town?
Afraid that one more word may cause him to follow through with his threat, she glumly sat back down, clasping her hands together in her lap. There was still so much left unsaid, but if she told him that she had been investigating these murders behind his back with his sworn mortal enemy, the King of Darkness, Rumpelstiltskin, and had in fact fallen in love with him, and had been carrying on a relationship with him for the last few months, she was certain that she would be in chains at the asylum by sundown.
She sat motionless, but could clearly see her father pacing around, fiercely running his hands through his hair. It took several more minutes before he regained his composure.
“There are so many stories here in this library.”
With the soften tone in his voice, she chanced a glance at him, finding some type of solace in the spark of familiar warmth in his eyes.
“Have I ever told you my favorite story?”
The side of her mouth twitched, as the smile she tried to give him faltered under the weight of her heartbreak. She had joyfully heard this story hundreds of times before, but today her ears did not want to hear it.
“Once upon a time, there was a man. A ruggedly handsome man, if I do say so myself,” he chuckled.
“The man had dedicated his life to fighting the evil in the world. He fought many of battle, coming out of each one victorious, as well as a little wiser than he was before. As the man grew more enlightened, he learned of a weapon. A weapon forged of darkness, a dagger that wielded the power to lead all of the darkness and evil in the world. In the right hands, that weapon could be used to banish all of the ungodly creatures and monsters from the earth, freeing mankind from their villainous clutches.”
It was such a strange sensation to hear the familiar words of his story, but have them feel so foreign at the same time. The distorted perspectives that he father had instilled in her as a child about monsters and creatures of the darkness had been forever altered when she fell in love with Rumpelstiltskin. As her father continued with the story, she couldn’t help but wonder how he would react if he knew that she had held that very dagger of darkness in her hands a mere month ago.
“Soon the man decided that if was going to win the war against these monsters, that he needed the weapon. Legend had it, that it was in possession of their king, the King of Darkness. And so the man dedicated his life to finding the King and destroying him. He relentlessly searched for him, for the dagger, hunting down every lead, every whisper of where he may be. One tip led the man into a forest where he had never trekked before. Lost, the man wandered around the unknown forest for days until he stumbled upon an alarming scene. ”
Belle’s pulse quickened, her stomach twisting in knots. What was wrong with her? She knew this story. She lived this story, and yet today something anew was bubbling up inside of her. Flashes of a forgotten long ago sprung forth into her consciousness.
Her mother’s blue eyes. A yellow blanket. A small wooden cup of warm goat’s milk.
“The man was taken aback when he saw a woman lying motionless on the forest floor. Above her was a towering monster, a beastly thing growling and vicious.”
Screaming. Walls shaking with anger.
Closing her eyes she tried to barricade the flood of buried memories.
“But what astonished the man, was not the growling creature that he saw, but the young child, the young girl that stood between the woman and the beast. She couldn’t have been more than four but she stood tall, ready to defend the woman against the monster.”
Distressed Belle opened her eyes, as her father moved to sit next to her. He continued his tale, oblivious to the inner turmoil that his story was causing her.
“Her brave little blue eyes locked onto the man’s. It was in that exact moment that the man saw a kindred soul in the little girl. Without a moment of hesitation, the man rushed in, saving her from the beast. Sadly the woman on the ground, the girl’s mother, had already succumbed to her injuries.”
Feeling like her mind and heart was lost in a muddled haze, she blinked slowly, as her father brought his hand up to cup her cheek, tears welling in his eyes.
“It was that day that the man’s life changed forever. Although the man slayed many a monsters in his lifetime, his greatest accomplishment, his greatest achievement was getting to be that brave little’s girl father from that day forward.”
Looking into her father’s eyes, her sanity desperately tried to cling to the love and affection that she had for him.
“My brave little Belle,” he smiled gently in awe of her. “You were always a protector.” He brought his lips to her forehead giving her a light kiss, before standing up to move towards his desk.
She loved him. She loved him so dearly, that she stayed silent for years, burying the truth of that day, so far deep down, that she allowed herself to truly believe the story that he told her time and time again. But now, the secret of that day burned inside of her. She wanted to say it, but when she opened her mouth, the words burned her tongue leaving her speechless.
She didn’t really want to know, did she? She was going to leave it be, keep the trauma of that day buried until the memory of the monster’s face that day pierced her soul.
“And what about the monster?”
Her voice was tiny, fragile. She wasn’t sure her father even heard her until he stopped suddenly his posture stiffening. Be brave she thought to herself, knowing they were at the point of no return.
“What did the man do the monster?”
All she heard was her own ragged breathing, as she waited for his reply. Keeping his back towards her, he turned his head slightly, as she gazed upon the silhouette of his face.
“The man did what he did best. He slayed the beast.”
“You killed my father,” she whispered revealing the dark truth of that day, and just like that all of the suppressed memories of her father, her real father, came flooding back to her.
He was angry all the time. She would lie in bed at night, clinging to a yellow blanket, as her parents fought. The walls would shake, as plates and dishes shattered against them. Then one day, her mother bundled her up, told her father was sleeping and that they needed to be quiet. Her mother already had two small bags packed for them, and they left the house as quiet as two mice. They were a good distance away from the house, when Belle remembered her yellow blanket. Her mother had told her they couldn’t go back, but she had screamed as loud as she could, terrified to go anywhere without it. She wrestled her hand away from her mother, and bolted back towards the house to retrieve it.
She could see home in the distance, when her father came barreling out of the cottage, storming straight past her, his sights set on her mother. With a raging passion he grabbed her mother, shaking her before throwing her to the ground, her head crashing against a giant boulder. Running to her mother, she had tried to wake her up, but she wouldn’t move.
Her father was sobbing. She stood up, ready to tell him to help Mama wake up, when he suddenly dropped to his knees before her, blood spluttering from his mouth. A man she had never seen before stood behind him, pulling a long jagged knife out of her father’s back. Before she could even look away, the man slashed her father’s throat, his blood splattering upon her tiny face. Terrified as both of her parents lay dead before her, she stood frozen, her eyes locking on the stranger.
“I killed a monster that day,” Her father replied coldly.
“He was my father.”
He turned in a flash, his offended eyes boring into her. “I am your father.”
Looking back she couldn’t remember when she first started replacing the made up beast’s face with her own father’s. It made her wonder what other lies Van Helsing instilled in her at such a young age. What other history did he rewrite?
Awkward tension electrified the air between them, neither knowing what to say next.
She loved him. In all sense of the word he had been her father for the last 16 years, but this revelation made her question what type of man he truly was. He had experience in easily taking a human life, something she never thought he was capable of before. Did he have something to do with these women’s murder?
The front door slammed open, as heavy stomping entered their home. She didn’t have to look back to know Gaston had returned. Looking at her father, the anger in his eyes dissipated into a look of despair.
Her instinct was to go to him, wrap him in her arms, and tell her father that she loved him no matter what, yet she just stood there utterly completely lost to the flurry of emotions battling within her. She heard the creak in the floor board behind her as Gaston’s booming voice called out.
“So what’s for dinner?”
X
Belle felt as if she was having an out of body experience, as she went through the motions, preparing their dinner that night. She and her father had not said two words to each other, since leaving his office. She needed time to process everything, before making any life altering decisions regarding their relationship. For once she was actually grateful that Gaston was there for dinner, demanding as usual all of the attention, and conversation center around his favorite topic, himself.
She ate in silence, noticing her father drank more that night, than he was typically accustomed to. Belle had no doubt he was trying to numb his own pain over their argument. Gathering the plates, she made her way to the kitchen, as Gaston talked to her father about the town’s festival the following week.
“Of course Belle will need to be on my arm,” she heard Gaston command. “It would be an excellent time to announce the news of our courtship.”
Bile rose in her throat, at the thought of having to parade around town on that pig’s arm, pretending to be ecstatic over the thought of spending her life with him. She wouldn’t do it. She couldn’t do it. Her heart, her love, belonged to another. There was only one man she would spend the rest of her life with, and it certainly wasn’t Gaston. Wiping her hands, she threw the towel down, bursting into the dining room, poised for a fight.
“Don’t you think I should have some say in this conversation, since you are talking about my life?”
“Please Belle, men are talking here.” Gaston scoffed.
She clenched her hands into fists of rage. She would not tolerate another second of this bullish imbecile’s presence. She refused to stand there calmly as her very life was being dissected and planned right before her very eyes. Her back straightened, as she stood tall ready to unleash a tirade of every ill thought and notion that she ever thought of Gaston Legrume, when the sound of fluttering wings caught her attention.
Instantly she glanced towards the window, her eager eyes landing upon the familiar one eyed raven perched on the sill.
He’s back, her inner self rejoiced as a blend of relief, excitement, and arousal spread throughout her entire being. Her father and Gaston’s voices faded into the background as white noise, as she walked over to the window, placing her forehead against the cool glass. She ran her finger down the panel along the outline of the bird, silently cursing the barrier that was between them. She wanted to scoop the raven in her arms, tie a message of love to its leg, and send it back to its master.
“Get away from the window darling, you’ll catch a chill,” her father spoke softly, his first words directed towards her all night. Sighing, she stepped away from the window, watching as the raven flew away into the early evening sky.
X
Holding her breath, Belle tiptoed past her father’s bedroom door, his loud snores bellowing out into the night air. She grabbed her green cloak off the hook, fastening it over her crisp cotton white nightgown. Slowly she opened the front door, just enough, so she could slide her body through, closing it with one small click.
The cool dark night air awakened her senses as the full moon blanketed the forest before her in a warm inviting light. The last five hours had dragged on for what felt like an eternity. It hadn’t been until the sun had long set, and she feigned a headache, that Gaston had finally taken his leave, and her father shortly thereafter fell into a drunken slumber.
Entering the forest, she heard a crackling of leaves on either side of her. Although she couldn’t see anyone through the thickness of the trees, she knew she was being followed on all sides. While anyone else would be terrified of the sounds in the darkened forest, Belle felt a wave of calmness and peace wash over her. Here she was safe, here she was protected. Restless to see her lover, her pace quickened as she neared their usual meeting place, a small clearing by the river.
Once there, she closed her eyes as the sounds of the forest tickled her ears. She heard an owl in the distance, and the babbling sound of the river. Her pulse quickened as a congress of ravens whirled overhead.
Biting her lip, a warm body rush of desire filled her, as she felt his hot breath tickling the back of her neck.
“Beautiful young maidens, such as yourself, shouldn’t be left alone in these woods after dark,” his voice purred in her ear. “There are monsters about my dear, and you look good enough to eat.”
Heat coiled in her belly at the feel of his hands on her hip. Every lady like social grace she had ever learned went out the window as she pushed her rear out to brush against him.
He let out a small hiss as she rubbed herself against his hard bulge.
“Minx,” he uttered playfully as she laid her head back against him, exposing her neck to his soft kisses.
“Well, what do you expect when you ah…” she paused as his slick wet tongue grazed against her pulse point. “When you leave me for seven days.”
“Trust me, my sweet, it was even harder for me,” he confessed, wrapping one arm around her waist, pulling her back flush against his body.
Part of her wanted to turn around and face him, missing the taste of his lips, but the continuous feel of his hard cock rubbing against her rump was too wickedly gratifying to stop. It felt so good. Judging by his staggered breath, he was just as aroused as she was. But before she surrendered to their fever of passion, her heart needed to say something first.
“I love you, Rumple.”
His grinding ceased at her words, as he wrapped both arms around her waist, laying his forehead against her shoulder.
“I love you too,” he professed.
“I don’t know if I could have lasted another day without you,” she confessed with a hint of sorrow in her voice. “Gaston asked my father today to court me.”
Fueled by jealousy his arms tightened around her.
“And my father agreed to it. They plan on announcing it next week. ” her confession was cut off by his clawed hand wrapping around her throat.
“You’re mine,” he hissed possessively.
After a moment, his grasp loosened enough on her neck so she could turn around to face him. His long green talons lightly scraped along her skin. Staring him straight in the eye, she leaned in close, his fingers still wrapped around her throat.
“And you’re mine, Rumpelstiltskin.”
His lips crashed hard onto hers, her mouth greedily welcoming the taste of him. His hand moved from her throat to her back, hauling her towards him. Delving her hand into his hair, she grasped it between her fingers, giving it a slight tug.
His tongue slid into her mouth, causing a pool of wetness between her legs. She didn’t want to wait a moment longer. Putting her hands on his chest, she pushed herself away, his lips desperately trying to follow hers. Slowly she took a few steps backwards as her eyes locked on his darkened lust filled stare.
Silently she brought her hands up, untying the cloak from her shoulders, feeling it fall from her body to the ground behind her. The crisp night air did nothing to cool her overheated body as she stood there before him in a sleeveless thin white cotton nightgown.
His hungry eyes roamed over her body as she stood before him, her chest heaving in carnal anticipation. Desire shot through her core, as he lowered his head, licking his lips, like an animal ready to pounce on its prey.
He took two long strides, before his strong hands lifted her, cupping her ass as she wrapped her legs around his waist. She wrapped one arm around his neck, the other she slithered down in between them, to unfasten his leather breaches. He plucked a kiss from her lips as her fingers grazed over his freshly exposed hard member.
“Hold on to me, love” he gritted out, as she wrapped both arms around his neck clinging to him, as he lowered them to the hard ground.
He placed one hand behind him, steadying himself to sit down with his legs out, as she straddled him. Face to face, she reached down, grasping his cock, lining him up with her entrance. She let out a soft cry, followed closely by his low groan, as she slid down onto his cock. Placing her forehead against his, the two lovers moved together as one.
He reached for her nightgown now bunched up at her waist, pulling it off over her head in one fell swoop.
“Beautiful,” he whispered as he peppered small kisses along her breasts. The sensation of his wet lips on her puckered nipples drove her wild, and she found herself grinding harder down on him. She cried out, as he held onto her hips, thrusting up, filling her as far as he could go. She threw her head back, her long hair tickling her bare back.
Lost in throes of passion, she was vaguely aware of their surroundings, until a horde of sticks snapping and leaves crunching intruded her ears. Eyes snapping open, she stopped mid thrust, as Rumple laid still beneath her. She held her breath, as her eyes scoured the forest around them.
Hundreds of glowing eyes surrounded the two lovers. Small eyes, big eyes, from the top of the trees to the forest floor stared upon them. It was not people who watched them, this she knew. It was his subjects, the creatures of the darkness.
She looked down at Rumple, his glittery green skin, sparkling in the moonlight, as his eyes held a question of a shy hope and fear. She knew she should be mortified, hide her naked body from their prying eyes, and yet she had no desire to do so. She loves their king. She wants to show them, prove to all of them that her world and their world of darkness can join together as easily as the two bodies before them.
She grinds against Rumple once more, drawing words of love and devotion from his lips. She knows the creatures eyes are upon them, as he lifts his trembling hands cupping her breasts. Glancing out into the forest, her eyes convey a silent promise to them all. She loves them, and will protect them with her dying breath.
Her climax draws near, as she quickened her pace, feeling him deep inside of her.
“You are their queen,” he proclaims. “My love, my life, My Belle.”
His words push her over the edge, as she tightens around his cock, drawing his own orgasm. Wolves howl into the full moon night sky as his seed pulses inside of her. Breathless she falls forward onto his chest, letting out a sigh of contentment as his arms quickly wrap around her.
They are still joined as she lays her head on his beating heart. Neither speaks as they bask in the afterglow of their love. She shivers as the night air sweeps over her naked flesh.
She feels him move his hand, blindly searching for her cape nearby. He soon succeeds, covering them with the green cloak.
“If that is the type of homecoming I get, I should go away more often,” he teases stroking her hair.
“Don’t you dare,” she playfully chides, kissing his chest. She chances a glimpse into the forest, not surprised to see all eyes have disappeared. She knows that even though she can no longer see them, they haven’t ventured far, especially the wolves. They have a sworn oath to protect their king, and in turn now…her. There was no place safer for her to be, than surrounded by the monsters and creatures of the darkness.
As protected as she was in her lover’s arms she couldn’t dispel the growing worry in her heart. Soon they would learn the truth of who was really behind the murder of Mrs. Potts, and she prayed that her suspicions were wrong.
“So I take it you were able to acquire what was needed?” she asked a hint of uneasiness in her voice, as his hand lightly strokes her naked back.
“Yes,” his voice was low. She knew he felt no joy in the subject matter. “It took a little longer than expected, but I was able to obtain all of the ingredients we need for the spell. If things go as plan, we should be able to see the last few minutes of Mrs. Potts’ life through her own eyes.”
He took a deep breath, her head moving with the fall and rise of his chest.
“Sweetheart, I know this isn’t easy for you, if you…”
“No,” she interjected cutting off his concern as her chin pressed into his chest. “We need to know…I need to know the truth. If someone is killing these women, and framing monsters for it, they have to be stopped. Even if it’s…” she couldn’t bring herself to finish her thought. What type of daughter was she for even considering the notion that her own father could be involved in these killings?
Using one hand to push himself up from the ground, Rumple held her as he moved himself into a sitting position, with her straddling his lap.
“I promise you Belle. If by the slightest chance your father somehow is involved in this, he will be safe from me and mine. No harm will come to him by my command.”
She knows that his words are truthful, but wonders if he learned of her father’s threat to put her in an asylum, if he would still hold true to his promise. It was one thing to harm someone else, but if her father harmed her in any way, no promise would stop Rumpelstiltskin in exacting revenge.
“Time is of the essence. Should we go to the dark castle tonight to start the spell?” she inquired, stunned when he shook his head no.
“When all is revealed Sweetheart, there is no going back. Soon we will find if a murderer is from my world, or yours. Either way, as King of the Darkness I will have to bring some balance back to this world of chaos. There are many ways, many different paths that this could take us down. So forgive me, but just for tonight, I do not want to think about what lays ahead, but savor the now. Tonight is ours.”
Looking into his eyes, Belle could see that he was as worried as she was of what this spell would uncover. If Gaston or her father were somehow involved in all of this, she wasn’t sure what she would do.
“Tomorrow, then,” she agreed.
“You do know that no matter what happens tomorrow there is only one path that is certain?”
“Which one is that?”
Placing his hands on her cheeks, he gave her a small smile, his voice intent and sincere.
“The one where you and I are together.”
Rolling her onto her back, all worries of tomorrow faded away, as the king of darkness and his queen made love under the moonlight.