CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO: EPILOGUE

10 years later …

Rumpelstiltskin sat at his spinning wheel and scowled through the spokes at his father in law. He could have hoped all those years ago the king wouldn't have wanted to reconcile with Belle, but even being the most powerful sorcerer in the realm, he did not always get what he wanted. The fact that Maurice had offered Rumpelstiltskin a sincere apology, without Belle's prodding, had cinched the deal, in her opinion. Thankfully, Belle visited her father in Avonlea more than the king visited her at the Dark Castle. He remained in a state of nervous agitation — more so than usual — each time she left and didn't find relief until she walked through the front door of the castle and back into his arms.

Unfortunately, when she chose to visit, she insisted upon taking Baelfire with her. "He needs a chance to get to know his grandfather, Rumpel," she'd explained in that sweetly compelling voice which unerringly sent a delightful shiver down his spine. Only this time, it was icy fear which clutched at his vital organs and squeezed.

"He's not his grandfather," he'd argued.

"He's the only one Bae has. If Papa is going to try to be a part of this family, you have to meet him halfway. If Bae doesn't want to return with me after this visit, I am not so demanding I'll force him to do something he doesn't wish to do."

Considering she had been slowly divesting him of his clothes, his mind had been too muddled with pleasure to argue further. Surprisingly, Maurice had taken an instant liking to Rumpelstiltskin's son, taking great satisfaction in doing things with him he hadn't been able to do with Belle while she'd been growing up. The boy came to cherish his visits with his pseudo grandfather and made Belle promise to visit at least once a month, which brought the king no small measure of satisfaction. At least he didn't hold Baelfire's parentage against the boy, the sorcerer thought with relief.

His wife and son were happy — he didn't give a rodent's behind for the king's mental state — and therefore he could put forth the illusion that he, too, was happy. In all honesty, he was … except when he was forced to remain behind when his family journeyed to Avonlea. He seriously didn't think it wise to lock himself away in the king's palace for four miserable days a month. He was not known for his generosity nor his patience, but he would suffer through it for her. He would do anything, sacrifice anything, for his beloved Belle.

He glanced over at his son, sprawled out on the sofa snoring softly. Baelfire was now twenty-five, the youngest to ever have risen to the rank of general in Avonlea's vast army, a dream come true for him. His mind was quick and sharp, and he had a penchant for battle strategy which made many whisper that he was gifted with the sight. In actuality, it was the protection spell he and Belle had woven about their only son to guard him from harm. They'd both been left in a weakened state for nearly a week, completely drained of power, but it was a small price to pay to know their son was safe. Avonlea had few enemies, and it wasn't often Baelfire had to put himself in danger to lead his knights, but there was always a chance some harm could befall him. That was a risk Rumpelstiltskin would not take after all he'd gone through to find him and bring him home.

He turned back to his spinning, his hand gliding over the polished wood of the wheel as he gave it a slow turn. No matter how the king had made amends to Belle, Rumpelstiltskin would never like the man for the simple fact that he'd hurt her. So, he kept his silence as he listened to their playful banter and took tea not far from his sight.

"And have you decided on a name, my girl?" Maurice asked, his hand beneath hers as it rested on her protruding belly.

A worried frown marred the imp's brow as he gazed lovingly at his wife. For so long they'd wanted a child of their own, but it had taken ten years for them to conceive. It hadn't been for lack of trying either. Finally, he'd come to the conclusion that their lack of fertility might stem from his deal making, the cost of the magic keeping them from fulfilling their dream and he'd immediately closed up shop. Six months later, she'd come to him in his tower, tears streaming down her face. He'd wondered who he needed to kill for making her so upset. Yet it hadn't been sadness which had her in such a mess, but joy. She was pregnant. And to ensure nothing changed her happy state of impending motherhood, he hadn't answered the first summons to make a deal. He limited his magic to simple tasks and very rarely left her side. Belle did likewise, not knowing how her magic would affect their unborn child. It was an adjustment on both their parts, but somehow, they managed.

Maurice had not taken the news well. He had been terrified he'd lose his daughter to childbirth — especially the birth of a magical child — the same as he'd lost his wife. Winter, upon hearing the news had been ecstatic and promised she would be there the moment Belle went into labor to lend any assistance she could offer. The enchantress was happier now that she had taken Regina under her tutelage, and the former evil queen flourished under her guidance. She seemed more the soft-hearted girl he'd met so long ago before he'd taken her as his apprentice, white magic helping her to grow into her full potential rather than the dark magic he'd taught her. It had been a struggle for her, but she'd overcome her fear and doubts and finally let go of her bitterness to become someone he and Belle could now count among their few friends. She'd even found love again.

Who would have ever thought it would come in the form of a certain outlaw? It had come as quite a surprise to the occupants of the Dark Castle to learn Robin had lost his wife. The feuding between the outlaw and the Sheriff of Nottingham had escalated to the point where Marian had gotten caught in the crossfire, taking an arrow meant for her husband and losing her life in the process. He'd come to Rumpelstiltskin for help, but it was Baelfire who had lent his assistance, his forces easily outnumbering the sheriff's. The sheriff had died by Robin's own hand and Sherwood had returned to peace and prosperity, the outlaw's lands and holdings returned to him, but it hadn't made his loss any easier to bear. It was one of his visits to the Dark Castle where he'd met Regina which had turned things around for him.

That had been three years ago. Now his former apprentice was ensconced in Locksley castle with her true love and happily married, content and joyful to have overcome so much, her heart healed and free to love again. Winter had been sad to see her go, but happy for her protégé either way.

Belle caught his eye and smiled as she continued the conversation with her father. "We've thought of a few …"

"… that we're unable to agree upon," Rumpelstiltskin interjected dryly.

"… but we haven't been able to decide," she finished, inching forward awkwardly to the edge of the sofa to pour herself another cup of tea. Her husband was there before her hand could touch the pot, gently pushing her back and pouring more of the brew into her cup. "Rum, darling, I think I'm more than capable of pouring tea," she snapped irritably. "I'm pregnant, not an invalid!"

They'd had this argument before and knew better than to let her waspish behavior unsettle him. Instead, he sat next to her and drew her back against his chest, his nimble fingers caressing her lower back. "Just relax, dearest. Stress isn't good for you or the baby."

"Neither is your constant hovering," she murmured, the heat having left her petulant tone as relief from the ache washed through her. It was by sheer force of will she'd kept the pain she'd been experiencing all day from leaking through their bond. He'd have banished her to their bed to rest for the remainder of the day and she'd much rather spend that time with her father and Baelfire. The boy really didn't come home often enough.

The king chuckled at their banter. "He's just trying to look out for you, daughter. As it should be."

Belle shifted, pressing back more firmly into Rumpelstiltskin's probing fingers, hoping the pressure he was exerting would help. "Belle, what is it? Are you in pain?" he asked, his lips grazing against her temple.

"I'm nine months pregnant, Rumpel. I'm bloody well miserable and it cannot be helped. I promise I'll be fine," she assured him.

Sarah glanced up from her embroidery and cocked a brow, recognizing the signs Belle was trying so valiantly to hide. Her own son was out in the barn with Marcus, the boy taking advantage of being outdoors. Four-year-old Michael had added new life to the castle, but a more mischievous child she'd never seen. Belle shot her a warning look to hold her tongue. She shrugged, realizing it was pointless to argue when it would just cause her friend distress.

The front door of the castle banged open — no easy feat for such a reinforced barrier — with the force of a canon blast. The mage was on his feet in an instant, the doors leading into the Great Hall already opening before him as he rushed to see who dared intrude upon his home. Winter nearly collided with him as she charged through the open entrance, her eyes wide and excited.

"Winter!" he growled, catching her by her upper arms before she barreled into him.

She ignored him, her eyes searching out the room to land on Belle. "Belle, dearie, how are you? I came as soon as I could."

"Tea time was an hour ago," Rumpelstiltskin deadpanned, releasing the enchantress.

"Not tea, you dolt!" she exclaimed, her wide smile blinding as she moved to Belle's side. "She's in labor." She showed him the glowing amulet in her outstretched palm, the same one she'd enchanted to let her know the moment Belle's pains began.

Rumpelstiltskin paled visibly beneath his golden scales. "Now?!"

Belle cursed softly as his high-pitched tone reverberated through the room. "Thank you, Winter," she retorted.

"When were you planning to tell us? After the babe arrived?" he snarked, rushing to her side and sweeping her up into his arms.

Maurice bounded to his feet and wrung his hands nervously. "Someone needs to go for the doctor … or the midwife … or …"

"Papa, now is not the time to panic," she called over her husband's shoulder as he bore her from the room.

"I can't think of a better bloody time!"

Baelfire sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "What's going on?"

"Your stepmother has gone into labor," the king explained. He sat down heavily on the sofa, his eyes wide and unblinking as worry settled over him like an ominous black cloud. He couldn't bear the thought of losing his daughter, too, not after everything they'd been through.

Baelfire opened the cabinet which held a myriad of treasures his father had collected in his many deals and dug into the far back. "Aha!" he chortled, opening the jug of fire whiskey and pouring two tumblers, handing one to his grandfather. "Here, Grandpa, this might help."

"Lad, you better bring the jug and hope you have another hidden somewhere close by."

*.*.*

"How can you be so calm?" Rumpelstiltskin bellowed, kicking their bedroom door wide enough to allow him to carry her inside and set her down gently on the bed. Sarah and Winter followed behind them. The enchantress immediately set about helping Belle out of her rose-colored gown while the younger woman fetched a cotton nightdress from the wardrobe.

"Rumpel, you're panicking for nothing. Women have babies every day. You act as though I'm creating magic which has never been attempted before," she growled, grinding her teeth as another sharp pain radiated along her lower back.

He cupped her face in his large hands and pressed a kiss to her brow. "You are, my Belle. It's not just any child you're having, but our child … one we never thought we'd have. I don't think it's so outrageous for me to be a bit worried."

"She's going to be fine, Imp," Sarah said, handing Winter the nightdress and scooping Belle's gown from the rug to set aside for the laundry. "She is immortal. Not like she's going to cock up her toes and say 'goodbye cruel world'."

"Not helping, dearie," Winter sing-songed, biting back a smile. "Rum, now would be a good time to fetch the doctor, I think."

He cast Belle a long-suffering look. "But that means I have to go to Longborne. And what good is a dwarf going to do?!"

Belle reached for his hand after she'd leaned against the mountain of pillows supporting her back. "Rumpelstiltskin!" she admonished. "If he was good enough to deliver the little princess to Snow and Charming —"

"How the hell does that make him a qualified physician?!"

"— then he's good enough to deliver our child. Besides, Granny is a highly qualified midwife and she promised to come along with him. I will be in good hands," she promised, her tone even and calm. Her husband was upset enough for the both of them.

He opened his mouth to protest further, only to snap it shut as he received a sharp look from each of the women. "Fine! No one listens to me anymore." The mage disappeared in a thick cloud of purple smoke to reluctantly fetch Doc and Granny.

"Thank the Gods!" Winter exclaimed, sitting next to Belle on the edge of the bed and placing her hands on her belly, a faint lavender glow enveloping them. "You would think he was the one having the babe." She concentrated for a moment and then smiled. "Everything is fine, dear. Just try to relax and let nature take its course."

"Easy for you to say," Belle snarked, bearing down on Sarah's hand as she tried to breathe through another pain in her back. "I thought the contractions were supposed to be in my abdomen."

"I had them in my back, too, Belle. Believe me, soon you'll feel like you're being clenched in a vise," Sarah huffed, a weak smile curving the corners of her mouth.

"Thanks for that."

*.*.*

A platter of roasted boar hit the polished wood floor as the Dark One poofed into the dining hall of the White palace, the serving girl's shrill shrieks nearly deafening him.

Nine-year-old Emma was the first to recover her shock, sliding out of her seat and rushing forward to greet him. "Uncle Rumpel!" she cried excitedly, throwing her thin arms around his waist and embracing him tightly.

His large amber eyes warmed considerably as he wrapped an arm about her shoulders and returned her hug. "Hello, pet."

"How long can you stay?"

"…"

"Where's Auntie Belle?"

"…"

"Why didn't she and Bae come with you?"

"…"

"Did she have the baby yet?"

"Emma, perhaps if you would stop with the questions, he might be able to tell us why he's here," Charming said with an apologetic look at the imp.

"Belle's in labor. She sent me to bring Doc and Granny to the Dark Castle to attend her," he rushed to say, his green-gold skin sallow with suppressed worry.

"Mama can we go too?" Emma asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet in her excitement.

"Let me grab my bag," the diminutive doctor said, nodding as he left the dining hall to gather his supplies. Granny did likewise, and Rumpelstiltskin groaned aloud at the delay.

"Emma, I don't think—"

"Pleaseeeeeee!" she whined, her large emerald eyes shining luminously. She was well versed in getting her way and would use every ploy in her arsenal. "I want to see the new baby, Mama."

Snow turned her gaze on Charming, leaving the decision in his capable hands. "Er … well … um. Ask your uncle," he said hurriedly. He didn't want to disappoint his daughter, yet he was hesitant to invite them all to the Dark One's home.

"I don't give a damn if the entire kingdom shows up on my doorstep as long as Belle gets the help she needs," he snapped in frustration.

The doctor and midwife returned in moments, taking their time. Babies – especially a first – would be in no hurry to make its grand entrance. Rumpelstiltskin was not of the same opinion, grabbing them both by the collar and whisking them away on a wisp of magic.

*.*.*

Rumpelstiltskin took turns glaring at the door to his bedchamber and trying to get past Baelfire to get inside. "They will call you if they need you, Papa," the boy said for the umpteenth time. "Why don't we go back downstairs and have a drink?"

"I'm not meeting my child for the first time reeking of whiskey, Baelfire!" he growled.

The Dark One was still bristling about being locked out of his chambers while his precious wife was on the other side of the door emitting sounds no woman should ever make. She sounded as if she was being tortured. She sounded like she was suffering the agonies of the damned. He raised his hand to blast the door from its hinges only to have his son step in front of him and shake his head.

"You promised Mama you'd not resort to violence," he warned. "She needs all of her strength to get through this. She doesn't need to worry about what mischief you might be up to."

"Never again."

"Never again what?" his son asked curiously.

Rumpelstiltskin resumed his pacing, mumbling under his breath in an agonized whisper. "I'll never touch her again."

Baelfire had the nerve to laugh heartily at that. "Sure, Papa."

"Why is it every woman in the blasted castle can be in there and I can't?" he asked petulantly. "What if something happens? She needs me!"

"Papa —"

"Oh, shut it! The only reason you're even up here is because you couldn't take Emma's excited prattling any longer. Go, have a drink, a nap, or whatever and leave me to my misery," he groaned, raking a hand through his wild curls. "I didn't have to go through this with your mother. I came home from the war and you were already two months old."

"Papa, she's going to be alright," Baelfire smiled, wrapping a comforting arm about his father's shoulders. "She's the strongest woman I know."

"But it's been hours! She can't bloody well take much more."

"These things take time."

Before he could answer, another blood-curdling shriek pierced the air and he paled. But it was nothing compared to the panic he felt when silence greeted his ears. Time seemed to have frozen, not a sound issuing from behind the closed door. Life returned to his lithe frame as a lusty wail permeated the corridor and he slumped in relief, pounding on the door.

Winter opened the door, looking weary and wrinkled as she threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. "Congratulations!"

Sarah emerged from the room, the babe wrapped snugly in the hand-knitted white receiving blanket he'd made for his child. She smiled warmly, tears sparkling in her hazel eyes as she placed her precious cargo in his arms.

He stared at her dumbly. "Belle? How is —"

"She's fine, dearie," Winter assured him. "Exhausted, but fine. You can see her as soon as we get her all cleaned up. For now, say hello to your daughter."

Baelfire reached out, running the tip of his finger along the babe's downy cheek. "I have a sister," he breathed, his voice filled with awe.

"A daughter." Tears flowed freely down the Dark One's face, and he didn't care who witnessed it. His Belle was well, and he was holding the little bundle of love they'd wanted so desperately for so long.

Snow came out of the room, followed by Granny and Doc. "Congratulations, Rumpelstiltskin," she told him, dropping a light kiss to the child's brow. "She's beautiful."

He nodded, unable to take his eyes from his daughter's perfect features long enough to find the words to thank her. She led Baelfire and the others back to the Great Hall to share the news with Emma, Charming and Maurice, leaving only Sarah alone with Belle. It wasn't long before she was beckoning him inside and leaving him to be with his wife and daughter, claiming she needed to see to their guests. He peeked into the room, trying to be quiet in case Belle was sleeping, pleased when he saw she wasn't.

"Hey," she called weakly, her eyes heavy-lidded with exhaustion. She was propped up on her pillows and covered with a warm blanket.

"Hey," he answered, rocking the baby gently in his arms as he moved to sit beside her on the bed, careful not to jostle her. "Are you alright?"

"Course I am, silly. I told you before you were worried for nothing," she chuckled softly, cupping his cheek in her warm palm. "I can already feel my body healing. With a little rest, I'll be as good as new in no time."

He laid their daughter on her chest and leaned over to place a soft kiss to her lips. "I love you so much, my Belle. If something had happened to either of you —"

"I love you, too." Belle cradled the babe in her right arm and lifted her fingers to press to his lips. "You seem to forget I'm immortal. Bad habit, that. I'm not going to leave you, Rum," she vowed.

"She's a little treasure," he whispered reverently, stroking his fingertips over the fine patch of chestnut curls on his daughter's head. Dark sable eyes stared up at him, so like her brother's, and her little rosebud mouth was pursed in a silent moue. "What are we going to call her? It would be nice to give her a name, don't you think?" he quipped.

Belle giggled, giddy with happiness despite the aches which wracked her body. "Yes, names are important. It must be something special … a name to reflect all of us."

"Lilith is nice. I always liked that name."

Belle shook her head, chewing thoughtfully on her bruised bottom lip. "I have it … Keira Isolde."

"Lovely. I suppose it has a meaning?"

"Dark beloved. Our love helped you to find your humanity. It taught you to love again and hold the darkness at bay, and brought love and joy into our lives. She is a product of our love … the darkness and the light … it's perfect."

"Aye, love, that it is," he agreed, pressing another kiss to her lips and one to his daughter's brow. He stretched out on the bed beside her, watching as his daughter nursed, finding no greater joy than that which his family brought him.

Rumpelstiltskin didn't know what he'd ever done grand enough to deserve his precious wife and children, but he was nevertheless grateful. He had the joy and peace so few ever attained and his heart felt light as a contented smile curved his thin lips. To think none of it would have been possible had it not been for a meddling enchantress, a deal and a few dozen love letters.

A/N: Well, my darling dearies, that is all. I so hope you enjoyed the ending. I want to thank you all for your support during the writing process.