Chapter 5
Christmas

Belle awoke early on Christmas morn and stretched luxuriously. Her woolen blanket (a gift from her sister who taught her to knit) and the soft sheepskin she lay on (a gift from Rumpelstiltskin) enveloped her in a cocoon of warmth and security. A faint bird call reached her loft bedroom and she smiled to hear the answering call. The pale grey of the dawn sky outlined the rafters in faint halos.

Attending midnight service at the little village church last night, a solemn and serious affair, reminded her of home but she refused to worry today as there was much to be done. She had presents to give out today...

Once her snug home was alight with a crackling fire in the fireplace and the candles set in her windows, she began to gather her packages when she heard a tapping at the door. She was startled to be greeted by a floating pile of greenery.

"Hello?" she called tentatively. The greenery shifted and a smiling Rumpelstiltskin emerged from the side of the pile.

"I noticed you didn't have any protection hanging above your doors or windows or," he looked up, "even ceiling." He tsked, shaking his head with a smile.

"Am I supposed to?" she asked, delighted with her favorite visitor, stepping aside to allow him entrance.

"To keep the evil spirits away, don't you know," and Belle was unsure if he was teasing or serious, "...and the plague, of course, and um, bad luck, and probably many very serious illnesses."

"Like sprained toes and hair loss?" Belle asked, in quiet contemplation of the consequences of such a fate.

"Exactly!" Rumpelstiltskin chuckled. "Well, it is tradition in our home to decorate so I thought I would bring our traditions to your home." Setting the pile onto the floor, he began separating branches of holly, of ivy, even small pine boughs, Belle was surprised to note.

"What are the pine needles for? Do they ward off trolls or frighten away pixies?" she teased.

Rumpelstiltskin cast a sly glance at Belle from underneath a raised eyebrow. "They smell good," he said, eliciting a snicker from Belle. She cautiously gathered some of the bright green holly with its red berries as Rumpelstiltskin arranged them along all the windows. Following him through the house she handed him ivy to drape over doorways, and more holly boughs outside for the front and back doors.

When one wicked thorn-edged leaf pricked his thumb, Rumpelstiltskin dropped the bough with a quiet hiss. Without thinking Belle took his hand in hers and brought it to her lips to press a soft healing kiss to the injured skin.

"Oh," Belle stopped, worried Rumpelstiltskin might be embarrassed at the familiarity, and feeling a little shy herself. "I didn't..."

But Rumpelstiltskin was used to Belle's spontaneity, and merely chuckled. He raised his other hand to her face, rubbing his thumb across her cheek, with one of his eye-crinkling wry grins. His smile transformed his face as it transformed her heart and for a moment electricity sparked between deep brown eyes and gentian blue. Belle caught her breath as Rumpelstiltskin paused then chuckled again and turned back to arranging pine boughs on the fireplace mantel.

Belle watched, captivated by the firelight flickering across Rumpelstiltskin's face, alternately casting him in shadow then in brilliance. Of all the men with whom she had ever been acquainted none had inspired more than a passing friendship. They eventually revealed themselves to be self-centered or insensitive or simply not interested in a woman as an equal.

With Rumpelstiltskin Belle didn't feel like a desired object, a coveted possession, or an end goal. There was no little-mindedness, pettiness, or judgmental attitude in him. His look, full of respect and affection, said that she mattered for herself, that her thoughts and feelings were valued as an equal and as a friend. She had not realized how relaxed and warmed she felt with him.

Belle came back from her musing when Rumpelstiltskin turned back from arranging the last pine cone and bough and said, "Happy Christmas, Belle," with a smile.

"Very festive, thank you for sharing." Belle said appreciatively looking around her newly decorated home. "Merry Christmas, Rumpel. Won't you join me for some wassail? I understand it is the best yet from the Ram Inn, and I so hoped to share it with guests."

Rumpelstiltskin followed her into the back cooking area. The central fireplace divided the ground floor and was shared by the living room in the front of the house and the kitchen in the back.

"I have something else for you," Rumpelstiltskin said, offering her a cloth wrapped bundle. Belle peeled back the layers of the cloth, releasing the aroma of sweet spices from a tiny pie.

"Did you make this, Rumpel?" Belle's face lit up as she inhaled appreciatively, ending with a sigh.

He nodded, "Bae and I bake mince pies every year for Christmas. We ate ours hot last night but Bae wanted to be sure that you got yours today."

As Belle placed the pie on the long wooden table to be savored slowly later, Rumpelstiltskin said, "I also brought you this."

Belle turned back to see him holding another gift, nestled in his hands a small terra cotta pot overgrown with a dainty vine decked in a multitude of petite deep green teardrop-shaped leaves.

Belle raised a questioning brow. "A plant?"

"A special plant. I found a wild dog rose growing hidden in the forest, a bower full of pale pink flowers. I thought of your enchanted rose garden behind the sorcerer's castle. So I brought home a few cuttings hoping to coax them into growing for me. This one was agreeable to the idea."

Rumpelstiltskin presented the pot to Belle, his hands warm, lingering against hers as she accepted the gift.

Belle cradled the small pot, speechless. This gentle guileless man- his simple gestures and quiet presence- made her feel more at home than she ever had anywhere else and more accepted than she had in all her wanderings.

Into the silence Rumpelstiltskin added, "The flowers reminded me of you, so …delicate … and beautiful." He raised a hand to caress the pot with a finger then let his hand drop as Belle did not respond.

Rumpelstiltskin watched Belle, still and quiet, head bowed over the rose, until a tear slide down her cheek.

"Belle," he stepped forward, hand outstretched, beseechingly. "Belle, I'm sorry, did I offend you? I didn't mean to hurt you."

Belle stepped closer to Rumpelstiltskin, placing the plant on the fireplace mantel with a sigh. She raised a tear-streaked face to examine his lined dear face and very simply wrapped her arms around him. Rumpelstiltskin remained frozen momentarily in surprise to find the sweetest gift he could imagine bestowed on him: this woman, so brave and unselfish, endlessly generous with her heart, wanting to be close to him, needing him.

"Oh, Rumpel," she sniffled. "Thank you."

Rumpelstiltskin wrapped Belle in his arms, pulling her into his embrace. His hand tangled in the auburn strands, gently guiding her to his shoulder where he could tuck her under his chin, his other hand stroking her back. He breathed a sigh of sadness and joy. Rumpelstiltskin longed to soothe the worry from her brow, to remove the hidden pain from her eyes, to bring solace to her heart.

Belle inhaled the scent of warm sunshine and wild wind that Rumpelstiltskin carried with him. She breathed in peace as she rested against his chest, his close-guarded heart murmuring in her ear. She felt the faint breath of air on her head when he rested his lips against her hair, the warmth of his hands that caressed her back, strength and tenderness both in his touch.

"Yours is the sweetest gift I have had in a long time. I've just been gone, away from anyone that cared, for so long." Hot tears caught up in her throat. "And you have been so kind, so welcoming."

"Oh, Belle," he murmured. "It is no hardship to welcome an angel into my home."

Rumpelstiltskin propped himself against the far edge of the fireplace, taking the weight off his injured leg, and gathered Belle closer against him, hands stroking her back, her shoulders, leaning his cheek against her hair, his lips brushing against her forehead.

"Belle, where is your family?" he murmured, softly so as not to disturb the fragile bond grown between them. "What is the sadness you carry in your eyes?" His hand reached to wipe a tear-drenched cheek, to linger there for a breathless moment, his fingers a dam that held back the tears and pain of days gone by.

No immediate answer could Belle form and the silence stretched on but Rumpelstiltskin understood silence. Silence needed to weigh one's words, to gauge appropriate responses. Silence needed to feel the pain of past hurts and to gauge the strength needed to fight its crippling effects. Silence needed to fight the grip sorrow exerts on the heart, to fight to breath freely enough to allow speech.

"I had a home ... once," Belle began softly, not moving from the security of warm arms that knew how to hold sorrow. " But it is gone now." Belle sighed deeply, as if she could breath out the pain and be rid of it.

"My home was the first to be attacked when the ogres returned. My village was scattered- my family, my friends. As the ogres came closer my father made plans for my sisters and I to travel to my aunt in another town but the ogres were upon us sooner than we expected. My sisters and I fled together, with a trusted soldier to guide us but..."

Memories filled Belle's eyes with a darkness that Rumpelstiltskin had never seen, that Belle had hid so well.

"Oh, Belle," he whispered into her hair. "I am so sorry."

She felt tension ease from her frame as she leaned into Rumpelstiltskin's arms, leaned on his quiet hidden strength.

"Ogres caught up to us but the soldier barred their way, giving us time to flee. I was separated from my sisters." Belle exhaled months of repressed sorrow and uncertainty. "I have seen none of them since. I don't know know if my father escaped. And the soldier, our friend, he could not have survived..."

"And your travels... you've been looking for them," Rumpelstiltskin guessed. There was no shyness in the hands that unreservedly held and comforted her, supporting her as she shared her sorrow.

"Yes, I have found a few friends along the way, and a few loyal... friends have been searching. But no one has seen my family."

Belle's tears had ceased but her heart remained heavy. "I miss my sisters, Rumpel, my father, my friends. I just want to know that they are safe." Safe, she thought, as she felt wrapped in the arms of this courageous man whose familiarity with sorrow had taught him compassion and empathy. She hoped they had been fortunate enough to find friendship and comfort as she had.

"Belle," Rumpelstiltskin held Belle away from him slightly, hands gently rubbing her shoulders. "I have friends that also travel. Perhaps... perhaps I could find them and have them ask around on their travels." Rumpelstiltskin continued to frown and Belle could see he was troubled by reforming the connections with these friends.

"Rumpel, thank you." With so much in his past that was unpleasant Belle was grateful for his willingness to help her.

Belle reluctantly pulled out of his embrace. "I have a few presents for you as well," and she lead Rumpelstiltskin to a seat by the fire and brought her packages to the table.

"When I hurt my hand... on my way here, a witch gave me an ointment for aches and pains of the body," said Belle.

"A witch," Rumpelstiltskin said doubtfully.

"Well, probably not a real witch," Belle said wryly, "just a woman that grew and sold herbs and knew their properties." She pulled the cork stopper from an earthenware jar. "The ointment helped my hands feel so much better. Maybe it will help you."

Kneeling down in front of Rumpelstiltskin, Belle scooped a measure of the ointment into her hands and began rubbing them together.

"Belle, what are you doing?" Rumpelstiltskin sat up straight as she reached for his leg. He grabbed her wrists, stopping her. "There's no need - ."

"No need? Rumpel, I see how much your leg aches, especially when you've been chasing sheep or in the cold. Do you really think I don't notice how you take care of everyone else, including me, without thinking about yourself?"

"That's how it should be, Belle," Rumpelstiltskin argued.

"Let me help you in some small way for once." Belle slid her hands under the bottom of his pants to softly rest on the warm uneven flesh of his scarred leg.

Rumpelstiltskin gripped his thigh with both hands. "Oh, Belle," he breathed out, with a look of both sorrow and gratitude. "I am the beast," he said. "You shouldn't touch me."

"I've seen behind your front, Rumpel, and no beast lives there." Sliding her hands up his leg, following the scar to the knee, Belle's hands lightly skimmed over his skin. She rubbed the ointment into the knee and withdrew her hands to gather more of the medicine. Again she started at the knee feeling the warm skin, smooth on the outer side of the leg and the rough ridges on the inside.

"Who did this to you, Rumpel?" she slid her fingers down to the ankle and began to pull off his shoe.

Rumpelstiltskin sat in resigned mortification. "Ogres," he answered succinctly.

With the shoe off she could see the scar across the instep, slightly twisting the foot. She arranged a basin with warm water from her tea kettle, and soaked his foot while she fetched a towel.

"I helped our healer many times as she treated the soldiers after battle." After drying his foot, she rubbed the medicine into the scar tissue over and over. "You should have this done every day, Rumpel. Even now it will loosen this scar tissue so it won't hurt so much and you'll be able to walk better."

Rumpelstiltskin was caught between wonder and mortification, the firm pressure of Belle's warm healing hands soothing his leg and his heart.

Belle continued to rub the rest of the foot, then back to the scarred instep, kneading the scar tissue over and over. "Rumpel, why didn't your wife do this for you when you returned? You could walk much better today if it had been cared for properly when it was injured."

When Rumpelstiltskin didn't answer she looked up, her hands continuing their work. A terrible resignation dominated his face, the sorrow and bitterness buried so deep Belle barely caught a glimpse in the hidden depths of eyes so used to carrying pain.

"Peasants were meant to die in the war, Belle, not return home. Only cowards returned home," Rumpelstiltskin said, the pain in his tone as heavy as the pain in his heart.

A dull ache grew in Belle as she read the truth in his eyes. "So... the one who should have supported you most judged you just as everyone else did."

"My wife... was not interested in … helping me in any way when I returned." His words held no bitterness, merely quiet resignation. "But I survived. I lived to come back and take care of Bae."

"Rumpel, you were a hero! So few men returned from the war in my village- we celebrated the return of every single one of them! That they were alive to come back to their loved ones was a miracle!"

Belle was torn between the desire to sob bitterly or rail angrily against a cruel lord that sacrificed his people and the cruel people that shunned an injured hero who deserved a hero's welcome. That Rumpelstiltskin's actions were anything less than brave and noble Belle refused to believe. Whatever happened during that war, Belle was sure that Rumpelstiltskin had acted honorably.

-To Be Continued-