Rumbelle Secret Santa Recipient: echoesinazalea Prompt: rose garden, divination, discovery, silence Rating: G Summary: Rumple shows Belle a glimpse of her future and, thirty years later, she makes a decision The silver moon hung high over the Dark Castle, casting inky shadows of sharp turrets and thorn-studded vines on the cool grass of the rose garden. The night was cold despite it being early autumn, the biting wind sending a shiver through the deep red roses, still in full bloom, their rich earthy scent curling pleasantly in their direction. Rumplestiltskin breathed deeply then coughed, more for show than anything. He had always liked the smell of roses--there was something inherently pleasing about it. But that had all changed when she showed up, the flowery aroma constantly clinging to her fingers and her hair and probably everywhere else, should he ever get close enough to verify it. So Rumplestiltskin coughed at the scent of the roses because she was behind him, close enough that it could just as easily be her he was smelling instead of the flowers themselves and he didn't like the smell of her and he didn't like the sound of her small little heels patting along the path and he didn't like the way he had to keep convincing himself he didn't like these things. Rumplestiltskin stopped abruptly, Belle squealing as she narrowly avoided colliding with his leather-clad back. He spun around to face her, his fingers steepled and his torso bowed slightly, bringing his face to her eye level. Her blue eyes stood out even in the night's darkness, glinting like a pair of star sapphires, polished and dazzling and lovely... He snapped up straight again. He was much too close to her, he decided. That deep rosy scent of hers was beginning to seep into his mind, leaving him dizzy and poetic. He cleared his throat and gestured somewhere to his left. "Here will do quite nicely," he twittered. "Off with that cloak, then." Belle's eyebrow quirked. "Preferably sometime tonight, dearie, I haven't got forever." Belle bit her lip and tried not to smile. "Perhaps you could tell me what it is we are doing here," she paused. "Before I begin to take my clothes off for you, that is." For the first time in his life as the Dark One, Rumplestiltskin was grateful for his discolored skin. It would help to hide his blush. "Yes, erm, of course," he stammered, slowly regaining his composure. "If you really must know, I will have a very important meeting with a, let's say, prospective client tomorrow, should everything go to plan. And they will no doubt ask for their future to be foretold. Due to my exceedingly benevolent nature," he smirked, "I want to ensure that my client will receive what they come for. And, because of this, I find myself needing to brush up on my divination skills." Belle nodded thoughtfully. "But I still fail to see why you need me." Rumplestiltskin sighed, forcing as much exasperation into the sound as possible. "You see, dearie, even phenomenal cosmic power such as mine has its limits. I am regretfully unable to see my own future. I am afraid you are my next best option. As for the cloak," he continued, "divination is always easier to accomplish when channeled through a personal belonging. The connection is stronger and easier to maintain." Belle nodded again, this time sliding the cloak from her shoulders. She clutched it before her like a shield. "And if I give this to you, if we do this, you promise nothing bad will happen? No monsters will descend out of thin air to consume me because I know too much? I won't accidentally see something that will alter the course of the world forever?" Rumplestiltskin stared at her, blinked, then stared some more. She seemed genuinely concerned. No one ever cared this much. They almost always jumped at the chance to reap the benefits of his magic, accepting his terms without a second thought. She really was an odd girl... "Worry not--it is perfectly safe." She didn't seem convinced. "But, in the event that you should desire some insurance, there is always this." He pulled a small glass bottle from the inner folds of his leather coat, the sloshing, iridescent blue contents kept confined by a cork. "Is that a--" "Potion. A memory potion. One sip of this and whatever glimpse of the future you see will drain from your memory, leaving the same level of blissful ignorance you started this evening with." "And there is no pain?" "None." "And it won't take any other memories?" She was far too full of questions and he was far too low on patience. "Just the ones of what is yet to come," he sighed, exasperation beginning to eat away at whatever optimism he had had when the night began. "Alright," she said finally, holding the cloak out to him. He snatched it from her fingers and twirled around with a giggle, the heavy fabric rippling and his nose wrinkling. It too smelled like roses. "Now, dearie, this is where it gets interesting." Belle watched with eyes wide as he flung the cloak into the air. The wind whipped, the fabric spinning into a billowing circle. Rumplestiltskin raised his hand and the swirling cloak dissolved into a silvery pool, still floating in midair. She didn't tell her feet to move. She didn't have to. Before she realized what she was doing, Belle found herself at Rumplestiltskin's side, clinging to his arm. His leather sleeve was warm and smooth underneath her fingertips and a sense of comfort emanated from where she held onto him and she wasn't sure why. He couldn’t fathom why she was holding onto him. Yes, it was cold and he had taken her cloak. No doubt her lovely blue sundress provided little comfort against the night's chill. Yes, the spell was frightening. No doubt she was taken aback by this level of complex magic. But was she really so cold that she would seek out his warmth? Was she really so frightened that she would seek out his companionship? He swallowed back any idea that maybe, just maybe, she found him comforting and replaced it with the harsh reality of the situation. She was just a cold, frightened young woman who would never show any interest in him. Not that he wanted her to show interest in him. This was starting to get out of control. Belle was in awe. It wasn't that she hadn't seen magic at work before-- Rumplestiltskin had performed any number of small spells in front of her. But something about this one was different. Maybe it was the size of the spell, the sheer power it must take to open a channel to the future, but more likely, it was the fact that she was about to catch a glimpse of what lay ahead of her on her very own path through her very own life. What if it was something bad, something she didn't want to see? What if her father was dead or the ogres had come back and ransacked her village after all? But what if it was something good? Would that be better? Her mind whirled with questions as the wind whirled around her and Rumplestiltskin and her cloak whirled into a floating puddle. Rumplestiltskin cleared his throat and Belle was jolted out of her whirlpool of worries. "So," he began, his voice just loud enough to be ears over the wind as he tried not to let her see how much being this close to her affected him. "When would you like to see?" Belle looked up at him, realizing for the first time just how little space lay between them. "I..." Her voice broke. "I don't know. I don't know how I can decide. I mean how can I pick when to see when I don't know what will be happening?" She could tell she was beginning to ramble, but she couldn't make herself stop. It was probably just nerves about the divination, she told herself. It definitely had nothing to do with him so close to her, breathing her air with his warm body pressed up beside her and in her hands and... "What if I see something horrible? Then I will live my entire life afraid of it." Her voice was trembling and she desperately hoped he wouldn't notice. "And what if it's good? Then I'll live my whole life just waiting for it to happen instead of deciding my own fate." They were standing so close together that Rumplestiltskin had to look down his sharp nose to see her square on, but he did so all the same because this girl, this woman, was a wonder and he couldn't get enough of seeing her curiosity and her doubt warring all over her face, warm and creamy in the moon's soft glow. "Then we'll drink." His voice was soft. For some reason he felt this deep desire to make her forget her fear, something he had only ever felt with Bae. "You and me." Belle was looking at him in a way that made his insides warm and tingly. It was a new feeling for him, new and a bit alarming and if he didn't look away soon he was sure he was going to do something he would surely regret. But looking away was easier in theory than in actuality, so he just clenched his jaw and tried not to think too hard about what he had just said. 'You and me,' he'd said. It sounded better than he cared to admit. "You would do that for me?" Of course she was surprised. She had every right to be surprised. It wasn't as though he went out of his way to be kind. Not to her, not to anyone. But there was a smile on her face and maybe she didn't think he was too bad after all. "But of course," he said as nonchalantly as possible. "What interest do I have in your life?" None, of course. Except for whatever it was that was keeping her hands wrapped tightly around his arm. She just stood there for a moment longer, looking at him with those startlingly blue eyes of hers. Then, finally, she nodded. "Okay." She hoped her voice sounded stronger than she felt. "I will do it, but you have to decide what point in time we see." "Deal!" Rumplestiltskin's giggle was somewhat forced, but his smile was genuine. "Let's say something like thirty years in the future?" He flicked his wrist, sparks shooting out from the cloak-turned-puddle. Then it began to ripple, starting in the center and rolling out like someone had dropped a stone in the middle of a smooth, gleaming pond. Rumplestiltskin was painfully aware of Belle leaning into his side, even closer than before. He was about to lose control and look at her again when the ripples slowed and a picture started melting into view. Beside him, Belle gasped, gripping his arm even tighter. "That's me!" Her voice was an odd mix of excited and breathy and he thought he rather enjoyed it. "But that can't be right," she mused. "You said thirty years, but look--I must be about the same age I am now." She was right. The woman in front of the well in the white coat and hat was clearly Belle. She had the same deep chestnut hair and the same dazzling blue eyes, but she couldn't possibly be Belle thirty years in the future. Her creamy skin was still perfectly smooth, showing no sign of age. "I must have gotten the time wrong." It wasn't completely out of the realm of possibilities. Divination was a complex spell and it had proved difficult in the past. Perhaps he had mistaken thirty for three and this scene was just a few years down the road. But even that seemed unlikely as she had sworn to go with him forever. Where was he? And who was the man in the long coat with the silver-tinged hair with his back to them? If only they could see his face maybe they would be able to make some sense of this all. He felt Belle's hands go slack on his arm. "Is that..." She trailed off, unable to finish. "Is that a wedding?" She looked up at him expectantly, as though he knew any better than her. He felt a drop in the pit of his stomach. It wasn't really any of his business, but if he was honest with himself, and he tried very hard not to be, he would realize that he didn't want Belle to get married to this man with his long coat and his brown and silver hair. "I think you're right," Rumplestiltskin said finally. "That pale ginger-topped man looks to be officiating." He paused. Something about that man looked familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. Oh well. "And isn't that your father?" Belle bounced on her toes excitedly. "He's alive!" She grinned up at Rumplestiltskin, joy emanating from her broad smile and crinkled eyes. He fidgeted under her gaze. "Yes, well I did give you my word that no harm would come to your family and friends." "I know. I just... I just was worried. And... Well I thought I would never see him again." There was a small sniff and Rumplestiltskin looked down to find tears welling up in her eyes. His hand fluttered nervously at his side before carefully placing it on her shoulder in a way he could only hope was comforting. He could feel an apology trying to claw its way out of his throat, knowing he had caused her this pain with the deal he had all but forced her to make. It probably would have come out had she not wiped her eyes and let out a forced, but convincing giggle. "I still can't quite believe I'm watching myself get married!" Future Belle was speaking now, but neither she nor Rumplestiltskin could discern her words. Perhaps vows of some sort? "It feels so surreal and a bit intimidating." "Yes, yes, I can imagine." His voice was low, almost sad, almost human. "If only I could see the face of the man I'm marrying. Or perhaps that would be too much?" "If only," Rumplestiltskin muttered. "Then I would know who I would have to dispose of." "Hmm?" Belle turned towards him again inquisitively. "Did you say something?" "Certainly not, dearie." His jaw clenched so he could say no more. Just then the wind picked up, rustling Belle's skirts and sending a shiver through the image before them, distorting it, slowly at first until it was an in recognizable mass of color, swirling in the air. Finally, the image shattered like a pane of glass, shards scattering in every direction. Had they not been hiding their eyes from the flying fragments of her future, perhaps they would have caught a glimpse of her future husband; of a sharp nose they may have recognized and a pair of slender hands, much like the ones holding her at that very moment. When the air settled and they turned back to find her cloak returned to its former state, crumpled in a heap on the damp grass, Rumplestiltskin once again proffered the small bottle of glistening blue liquid. "Shall we drink?" Belle took a moment, then accepted the bottle. She couldn't get the image of her father or of her in her wedding clothes or her mysterious groom out of her mind. She wanted to know more, she craved details, but she knew what she had to do. If she didn't drink she would fritter away her days hunting for her groom instead of living her own life, the life she knew she wanted, the life she felt she deserved. "To the future!" A smile lingered in her eyes as she tipped back the potion. After downing half of it, she passed Rumplestiltskin the bottle. "To your groom. May he never forget just how lucky he is." His voice was somber and there was something dark behind his eyes that, had she not known any better, she might have described as jealousy. Rumplestiltskin drained the rest of the blue from the bottle and they stood together in the cold as their newborn memories drained from their minds. They walked back to the Dark Castle in silence, the only sound was that of Belle's small little heels patting along the path. The scent of the rose garden faded behind them into the night, but Rumplestiltskin could still catch a bit every now and then. Or perhaps that was just the smell of her next to him. --------- Something Like Thirty Years In The Future Storybrooke "Belle, sweetheart, are you sure you want to get married by the well? I could book a church if you would rather. Or maybe in the library? That could be nice." "I know it sounds strange, Rumple, but something about the well just feels right. I can't explain it, but I just have this feeling that it is what we are supposed to do." "If that is what you want, my dear, then that is what we will do. I will talk to Archie tomorrow about officiating." "Thank you. And thank you for humoring me with the well." "Belle, we could get married in outer space if that's what you wanted. No matter where it happens, I will still be the luckiest man in the world." "I love you." "Yes, and I love you too."
