CHAPTER TWO: WHAT COMES AFTER
Rumpelstiltskin hadn't meant to enter her room at all. The reason he'd given Belle her own chambers away from the cold dungeon was mainly so she would have a space that he would never intrude upon. The library didn't count; he was in there every other hour fetching some magical tome or other.
And yet here he was, standing at the foot of her bed like a prince in one of her romance novels. And frankly, he was the furthest creature from a prince she could ever know.
She was asleep on the bed, covered in blankets with a pained expression on her face. Was she having a nightmare? He couldn't help the base urge to comfort her, although it was nothing to want to. Anyone would.
Hours ago, when she had fled the Great Hall, his instinctive thought was that she had woken up from whatever daze the lust potion had trapped her in and had been- reasonably- disgusted. After all, she had just been kissing the Dark One, and in a manner that would've had many back in her home thinking she was ruined.
Jefferson, to his knowledge, had left, vowing to return the next day to talk to Belle himself, a thought that made him shudder. After watching the clock go on for hours and spinning straw into nothingness, he had lost any willpower he might've possessed before, and now he was here.
She looked like an angel, her hair splayed across the white pillow in long silky chestnut curls, her face as pale and ghostly as moonlight, shadows dancing across the surface, shining through the open window. He couldn't resist extending an arm and brushing the back of his hand against her soft cheek, and eventually cradling it.
Belle leaned into his hand. There was that terrible moment of contemplation when he wasn't sure whether he would be able to pull away or not, but he managed to. This proved it. Monsters stole away the goodness in the people they supposedly cared for and extinguished it.
But he couldn't do that to Belle. She meant far too much to him; he was in too deep to pretend that she didn't. He couldn't even recall when she had started to mean anything to him… but it didn't matter.
He still didn't want to talk to her, not only because of his instinctive cowardliness but because he was still holding the tiny spark of hope in his black heart that she might really care about him, and that was why she'd kissed him back with such passion. But he was also still convinced that the dust had caused it all- on her part, anyway- and if he told her about it, she would hate him with all her heart for inadvertently causing her to kiss a monster. He was terrified of the risk, and that was the spinner still buried under all the darkness.
He wouldn't be able to bear seeing hatred written so blatantly on her lovely features, knowing it would break him to the core of his soul. It was enough to worry about the Hatter speaking with Belle about it- what if Jefferson told her? He hadn't felt this nervous since he was human. Hell, he hadn't cared about anyone's opinion of him since he had lost Bae.
"I'm sorry," he whispered to her from the shadows that were his existence, knowing that it wasn't enough and never would be. Her hatred, when it inevitably appeared, would be his own fault. The kiss had torn away the walls protecting his blackened heart from himself, and it couldn't be more obvious than it was now. She had invaded his mind and marked her place in his soul.
She would never love him. She had vowed to stay with him forever, sacrificed her life and the love she'd surely have found elsewhere in order to save her town. She would honour her promise… which was why he had to leave her, since she'd never choose to leave him because of it. He had to find a way to bring her back to her home, and leave her there permanently.
And knowing she'd never go willingly…
The only spell he could think of was one to cut away their time together at the Dark Castle and make it nothingness in her mind...a mere dream. The time would remain the same- time travel was, like realm jumping, just outside his range of abilities, and he wasn't stupid enough to attempt it anyway- but she would never have known him. He would save her kingdom, in her mind's version of events, without asking for a price, and let the magic take its toll upon him… and she would forget that she ever knew him. He would have to alter the memories of everyone in Avonlea for it to work, but if it saved Belle, it would be worth it.
The thought of her not remembering their kiss nearly made him crumble, and as it was his knees gave in. Rumpelstiltskin sank to the floor like a child, trying to convince himself it would be the right choice in the end. For Belle. Always for Belle.
He could retain his memories of her, remember caring about her, recall their past as it truly was, but it would be was. Used to be. Not anymore. Gone. He wouldn't feel the grief that attacked him now, nor sorrow and loss.
It should've made it easier, but it didn't. Rumpelstiltskin had always depended on sorrow to keep him going. If he wasn't dealing with grief, he had no way to push for something better. He supposed until he found Bae there would always be regret and loss in his life, but his son wouldn't make up for Belle, just like Belle wouldn't have been a consolation prize for Bae if they had ever… No.
He was uncertain if he could deal with the detachment that he'd feel remembering Belle, if he went through with this. It would be like watching someone else fall in love- his own heart wouldn't be affected-
This couldn't be love. He wouldn't allow it to be. He tried to force the thought back into the deepest, darkest parts of his mind, knowing that if he loved her he'd never be able to let her go.
Belle would have no knowledge of him. She would never meet the monster he was or the cowardly spinner he had once been. There was no man in between. He… wouldn't exist to her. And if by some unlikely chance she ever heard of him, she would think of him as what he was: the monster that mothers told their children horror stories about to keep them in line.
It was what was best for her. He whispered an apology, soft as the gentle wind blowing through the open window, and left to begin working on the spell. She had to forget him before he fell in love with her and it became too late.
It was the only way.
Hours. It had taken Belle hours to fall asleep, and she still wasn't sure whether the ache in her heart or the ache between her thighs had kept her up. Maybe both.
She had dreamt that Rumpelstiltskin had come to her room in the middle of the night. He'd apologized and kissed her again, and told her that he loved her. Waking up had certainly been one of the most heartbreaking moments of her life.
She had dreamt that he had made love to her then and there on that very bed, and then afterward held her tight and promised to never let her go.
The most painful part? Dreaming that he loved her. It had forced her to realize that she cared very deeply about him. Too deeply, really, because it wasn't like this dream could transcend into reality. And that hurt, so sharply it was difficult to breathe, when she thought of it.
Every time she thought about it, she choked up- the dream was everything she wanted him to say- and do- and it left a hollow feeling in her chest where her heart resided. It was either the hollowness or the crushing sadness… she almost preferred the heartbreak. At least it was proof that she was enduring grief bravely- and proof that she cared. She needed that proof.
Belle didn't know what to do. She wanted so badly to be brave, but she also wanted to curl up under the mountain of duvets on her bed and sleep for another eternity. Maybe after that she'd be ready to face her Dark One.
She wasn't sure why she'd woken up, but, in a way, she was glad she had. She needed to face him soon and really, truly accept that her feelings were unrequited. As much as it might hurt to see him and know that less than ten hours ago his body had been pressed against hers more intimately than anyone else's had in her entire life… it would hurt more if she continued to delude herself.
But she supposed she could indulge until she had to face him.
"Belle," he whispered, his lips barely leaving hers. "I'm sorry."
He kissed her, each battling for dominance until he won, his tongue grazing her lower lip and begging for entry, making her shudder as she granted it. Her own tongue stroked the roof of his mouth more boldly now, and he grinded his hips against hers with increasing fervour.
When she gasped for breath, he moved to kiss her neck, sucking at her alabaster flesh enough to leave a mark that she would cherish, his tongue laving over the skin to soothe it.
"Why did you shut me out?" she murmured, barely coherent and weak in the knees as he pressed her into the bed.
"I was afraid," he admitted softly. "And I thought if I pretended I didn't love you for long enough, I might wake up one day and find it to be true," he admitted, dark eyes glowing with regret. "But I realized that day would never- and will never- come."
"Y- You love me?" she asked, not daring to hope and be broken again so soon.
His hands came up to cradle her face, his lips meeting hers in a delicate kiss. "Belle." He sounded like he was choking. "Oh, Belle, how could I not? You are the only light I have left in this darkness. I've never been- never been able to let go like I do with you, love. I've been in love with you longer than I can remember."
She felt tears slip down her cheeks, tasted the salt of them and smiled. He did love her.
"I love you, Rumpel," she confessed, however obvious it already was. "I've always loved you."
They crashed together again, and the layers disappeared, both figuratively and literally. And as they kissed and the fire was at last sated, she promised herself that she wouldn't let him go this time. Never again.
"You still asleep, Belle?" Jefferson asked loudly.
She sat up suddenly, the realization that she'd dreamed Rumpelstiltskin's admission of love was both shocking and terrifying. More tears joined the existing ones on her cheeks- she must have cried in her sleep, then- and she shivered as she struggled not to sob.
"What's wrong, love?" the Hatter inquired, worried at her sudden display of emotion.
I've never been able to let go like I do with you, love.
She suddenly felt terribly weak. "Just- just go," she begged, clutching her knees to her chest as if putting something in front of her heart might protect it from breaking. "Just go."
Looking deeply concerned, Jefferson left the room, worry and something else in his eyes.
Her tears had stopped, and she thought of it as having reached a point of so much pain and sadness that crying would be, simply put, pointless, and therefore she couldn't cry- couldn't do anything but let her anguish expand in her heart and numb her mind.
I was afraid. And I thought if I pretended I didn't love you for long enough, I might wake up one day and find it to be true.
She could feel her face crumble, and shot up to slam the window closed and pull the curtains, feeling as though anything but darkness would give her too much hope...again. She needed to realize that what she truly desired- Rumpelstiltskin, her Rumpel- was, as it so often happens, the one thing she could never have.
What had his friends done to each other? wondered Jefferson as he went down the corridor leading to the Great Hall from the stairs. Or more accurately, what had Rumpel done to Belle? She had an infectiously happy presence about her and to not see it was saddening. If he could see so plainly that she was in love with him- and vice versa, Dark One or not- why were they incapable of doing the same? Or was he doomed to watch them both suffer for eternity? He needed to bring Grace to see her, see if she couldn't cheer the both of them up.
Belle had been dreaming of her sorcerer, he knew. She'd called out his name in her sleep- Rumpel, not Rumpelstiltskin, and when had that started? - and Jefferson was curious to find out if Rumpel had heard and ignored her.
He wouldn't- couldn't- tell his friend this, but Belle had also whispered something else while in the throes of the dream world.
Why did you shut me out?
I love you, Rumpel.
Don't leave me!
I won't let you go.
Jefferson groaned. One kiss, and everything had changed.
The Hatter had quickly given up on trying to persuade Rumpelstiltskin to come out of his workroom, knowing it was impossible if he didn't want to, and he now began the long trek up the stairs to Belle's room. The Great Hall was half-ripped apart, straw strewn everywhere, one of the glass cabinets shattered. He planned to bring his friend out to the gardens so they could chat.
But when he walked in, he was greeted with a sight much different than the one he'd left- only mere minutes ago, really. Belle sat on the edge of the bed closest to the still-open window scribbling in a journal as though she'd die if she stopped.
She didn't look up, her hand still moving even as he shut the door loudly and walked over to sit beside her. He glimpsed the words You should know that I and more than just a on the tear-stained paper before she slammed the journal shut, scowling slightly as she laid the quill on her night table and sealed the ink bottle. Contradicting the obvious droplets that had landed on the paper, her eyes were dry and clear, showing no evidence of the sobs he had heard himself so recently. There was only a tiny flicker of desolation that was proof of her unhappiness.
"Jefferson," said Belle, polite but frigid.
He made his decision. "I went home last night to Grace," he said in response, his mind working frantically. "She asked me if there was something wrong with me." Although this was true, he was manipulating her now. But if it pulled her out of the pits of despair she'd seemed to have fallen into… it would be worth it.
She looked slightly concerned. Good, he thought. If it was something other than emptiness and desperation, he'd take it. "Is something wrong?" she asked, likely thinking of something mundane.
He went on as if she hadn't spoken. "I told her the truth- I wasn't ok. There was something wrong, not with me, but because of me. Because of something I had caused. I told my Grace the truth: I'd made a mistake, and hurt both you and Rumpelstiltskin as a result. And I was worried about you.
"Sweet child that she is, she wanted to know what happened, what I'd done. I couldn't tell her anything but the truth- you and Rumpel were discovering something between the two of you, and I interrupted before he could truly realize the extent of his feelings. I think you recognized some of them, though, and I must've shocked you into running upstairs… which led him to believe that you regretted the kiss."
Belle, who had been astonishingly silent up until then, looked like she was witnessing the execution of her family. Her expression fell, and he could almost see her heart splintering and cracking in her chest. He scrambled to fix what he'd said.
"I don't mean to say it's your fault, love. I imagine I scared you too." He now wondered if he'd screwed up by talking about Rumpel realizing his 'true feelings'- feelings he wasn't sure existed (although he was somewhat convinced). However, if Rumpelstiltskin ever found out, he'd surely be transformed into something slimy.
"No- no," Belle all but whimpered, cerulean eyes glistening with fresh tears. "I- I made him think that I regretted it- I didn't mean to- he'll think I don't want him…" she trailed off, practically choking on a sob, her tone appalled at herself.
Jefferson flinched. "Please, Belle, don't do this to yourself." She was almost like a sister to him, and he couldn't bear seeing her endure so much sadness. "It wasn't your fault."
Already she was slipping into the haze of grief he'd witnessed her suffering when he had inadvertently woken her. She seemed to be forcing back the tears that had yet to leave her eyes. "I have to show him the truth," she whispered, tearing the page she'd been writing on out of her journal. He now recognized it as a letter, yet to be completed, addressed to the imp. "Thank you," she said before dashing out the door and upstairs to the tower room.
He swore, leaping up and running after her, but she was already out of sight. Yes, Rumpelstiltskin was indeed in the tower room, but he'd locked the door with magic, and inevitably would be too much of a stubborn ass to let her in or even speak to her, which she'd think was him rejecting her. She wouldn't be able to get in- or rather, he wouldn't let her in- and that would only serve to hurt her more.
The knock on the door of the tower room was like ice in Rumpelstiltskin's blood. He could hear the distinct rhythm of Belle's beating heart, and more to the point her dainty knocks, as opposed to Jefferson's careless hammering against a door until he was let in. He supposed he'd never considered the possibility that the hatter would tell Belle about his talk with Grace (which he'd, of course, watched...through a crystal ball, not a mirror, obviously.)
But apparently Jefferson had, and now she was talking through the door, and oh this was bad. "Hello? Rumpelstiltskin, please, let me in, I can explain what happened," he heard her say.
He flinched at the sound of her voice, so clear even through the magic barrier. The obvious regret in her tone seemed to echo endlessly in his mind, causing his hand- the one holding the glowing purple vial of the unfinished memory spell- to shake violently. He set down the vial and closed his eyes, trying to block out her words, his jaw clenched so tightly that it hurt. Dimly, he could hear her apologizing, saying he didn't understand, and that it wasn't what he thought; she could explain why she ran off after Jefferson interrupted them.
Rumpelstiltskin was close to flinging open the door and shouting that he didn't give a damn about her and he'd only wanted a willing wench, not a maid with adventure in her heart and stories in her mind, but that was too cruel even for him. Some part of him- a part that belonged to the darkness- hated her for bringing down the walls he'd had up since he'd lost Bae, but another part (that was perhaps even darker) relished the thought of her knowing him for real.
He had never known anyone who'd seen him for everything he was and still loved him, still stayed by his side. It was almost what he wished Belle was. However, the defiantly logical side of him knew she could never love him, and to imagine her if she did- to give into the broken hope that still existed in his heart- seemed like the epitome of idealization. He couldn't take away her personality- even in his thoughts- just so he could imagine her as his.
Because a Belle who loved him- hence, not truly Belle - would be a Belle he wouldn't be able to stop himself from loving, regardless of all consequences. If he'd already fallen off the cliff, the real Belle was an ocean he could keep from drowning in, and the false Belle-who-loved-him was an abyss, and falling once would be it.
Rumpelstiltskin could still feel himself shaking, even as he heard, through the clamor in his head, Jefferson approach Belle and lead her away from the tower room. The tower room that also served as her library, and currently as his workroom. He needed to find out how to complete the spell- which, according to a book he'd found on memory magic, was known as the curse of lost hearts- so he could erase all of this from Belle's mind before either of them did anything they'd come to regret.
That was all he was allowed to think of. The curse. He had the ingredients for the potion, but having her drink it would destroy her, reduce her to a child. He needed another way.
And he thought of it when it was almost midnight, after the Hatter had left, and after Belle had gone to bed, leaving tea outside his door. He didn't deserve it at all, and couldn't understand why she'd done it. But at least now he knew what had to be done.
He just wasn't certain how he'd be able to obtain this… object without being incinerated.
A/N: I can't even express how sorry I am for not having this out sooner. I can only promise to try and update biweekly. Since it's winter break- thank god- I hope to be able to pull out another chapter before I go back to school. Hope you all enjoy, and please let me know what you thought about the chapter.
Huge thanks to CharlotteAshmore, my faithful beta, who was so overridden with feels (I know not why, tbh) that her main response to this was *SOB*. 3 luv ya.