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Belle of Storybrook Farm-Chapter 2

Chapter 2 of 2! For my wonderful giftee @kleptomaven!

Prompt: Society ball backroom, tight corset Rating: M Summary: Belle French has become the local oddball. But there’s more to the story than meets the eye

“Belle!”

Belle couldn’t help but smile as her father came to give her a big hug. At first he hadn’t supported her idea of living out at the farm, but when she saw how content she was he threw all of his support behind her. Now he was thrilled that they had a closer relationship than ever.

The French family had always held a bonfire for the Feast of Epiphany. Belle wasn’t sure what fire had to do with the three wise men coming to visit, but she suspected it was just a good time for everyone in the village to come together for one last winter party. She hadn’t been up for going to the party the year before as one of her prize goats was giving birth to a lamb, but she found herself looking forward to the celebration.

It had been two years now since Robert Gold had left. Her crying jag the night of the Nolan Christmas party aside, she felt that it was time to start moving on. Not letting go as how does one let go of someone that is a part of them. She knew she could never love another as she still loved Robert Gold. But moving forward, trying to be happy for both of them.

She had been quietly making the arrangements for weeks. To travel the continent with Ruby as her companion. She had found a newspaper publisher in the city that expressed interesting in having stories about travel written from a woman's perspective, and would provide a advance depending on how her first article was received.

“Not bad for the Mad Goat woman.” She thought smirking as she saw Granny Lucas in the sitting room. Bonfire night was something that some of the matriarchs never approved of, calling it a pagan tradition. Even when one pointed out it was to celebrate the magi, they had all clucked and fluttered their fans in disapproval.

#rumbelle secret santa #kleptomaven #rss gift #fran writing #chapter 2

Belle of Storybrooke Farm

Happy holidays to my wonderful giftee @kleptomaven! I hope you like your story-I had so much fun with your prompt. Hopefully I didn’t go to hard on the angst. Here’s chapter 1.

Prompt: Society ball backroom, tight corset Rating: M Summary: Belle French has become the local oddball. But there’s more to the story than meets the eye.

Chapter 1:

Isobel French of Storybrooke Farm, was considered to be one of the oddest women in the county, if not the country. By all accounts she had had a normal quiet childhood in one of the finest estates in the neighborhood. Of course, there was the early tragedy with her mother’s passing, and even at a young age she was far too well read for a girl. But up until she was 19, she had enjoyed going to the the local balls,was considered sweet and lovely, and seemed destined for a good match and a quiet life. But then something had changed and now at 21 she was referred to as the Mad Goat woman by some of the more unforgiving ladies in the neighborhood. She no longer lived in the fine house her father still resided in, but had taken up working a small farm on the estate. Tending to sheep and goats of all things! She still was quite close with tight knit group she had grown up with, and her wares brought fame to the region, and were quite enjoyed by the higher establishment in the cities. However for a woman of her stature to seem to enjoy being in trade was beyond the scope of the matriarchs and wives of their quiet little part of the country. “I worry that she’ll be a bad influence on Ruby and the other girls in her set.” decried Granny Lucas at Mary Margaret’s Christmas party. “She’s far too direct in her language and manners. And 21 and no apparent husband on the horizon! How Maurice French allows that behavior is beyond the pale.” The other ladies nodded their heads and fanned themselves quickly. Mary Margaret was quick to speak up for her friend. “She’s simply chosen a more quiet and simplistic life than others Granny. She seems content and happy. That’s something we should all aspire to.” Granny frowned. “What lady could be happy with her hands in the dirt and smudges on her apron? Did you know Mrs. Nolan that she lives in that little cottage all alone? How could anyone be happy being alone during the holiday season? No husband, no children, not even a single servant to cook Christmas supper for?” “I heard a rumor that she was being courted by some gentleman and when she lost his favor she just snapped,” simpered Zelena Greene. “So perhaps all of this talk of her being content is just a farce.” Granny spoke up again. “Well the only man worth anything that ever looked twice at her was Gaston Prescott, and that man was a disgusting lout God rest his soul. Far beneath any respectable woman anywhere. And now it’s far too late for a respectable match. She’ll stay a spinster and alone forever.” Mary Margaret frowned at all of them as all the other wives nodded sagely as they turned the subject to how much Regina Mills’ new dress clashed against the Christmas decorations.

Their love story had started like so many others. A simple meeting and a shared look. Not love at first sight. Belle didn’t believe in love at first sight. Her entire life had changed because she and Ruby Lucas had ‘accidentally’ spilled chicken blood on Gaston Prescott at the May Day festival. Gaston had been working his way through the neighborhood servants and scullery maids for years much to the chagrin of every mother and wife in the county. But it wasn’t until his gambling debts threatened the estate and he impregnated a girl from a fine family in London that his father responded. He insisted that Gaston marry the girl or else be cut off entirely, and while he had proposed the lady in question he had yet to hear an answer by the May Day festival. And so he went about for a ‘last sowing of wild oats’ that resulted in him cornering Mary Margaret Blanchard and trying to kiss her. Fortunately, she had been rescued by her neighbor David Nolan. Belle and Ruby had never liked Gaston, and once they heard what had happened, wanted to get revenge for all the women that they knew. Both of them had known there was chicken blood set aside for the blood pudding. Both of them ‘tripping’ and ‘falling’ into Gaston and spilling half a liter of red congealed goo all over his spring suit had been quite satisfying. They had both dashed off as he roared after them, but they had managed to lose him in the crowd. He had caught up with Belle away from the main crowd over by the fir trees later in the afternoon. If Belle hadn’t been so scared, she would have laughed. Gaston’s face was almost as red as his jacket. “So I’ve caught you! You two harlots are out of order! You two did that on purpose, and I’m going to make you pay French.” “What you should do dearie, is get that washed before the stain sets in. I’ve heard blood can be quite unpleasant to get out of linen.” Gaston froze as he turned to look at Lord Gold as he sauntered up behind them. Belle only knew him because of some literary connection between his father and her father, but she did know that he wasn’t someone to be trifled with. The fact that she found his greying sideburns to be quite attractive notwithstanding. “Good god Gold you saw what these two harlots did. They’ve made me a laughingstock of everyone.” He glared at Belle and she glared back. “You made a laughingstock of yourself all on your own Mr. Prescott.” Gaston made a step forward as if to shove her, when Gold had stepped forward again. “Indeed sir. You’ve managed to dirty yourself all on your own.” Stepping closer he lowered his voice dangerously. “Now I suggest you take your soiled suit, marry that girl in London, and head off the continent where you can entertain the Europeans with your antics.” Gaston went pale, but he still had a bit of fight. “If you’re fine with your mistress attacking another man Gold, then I….,” He stopped speaking as Gold stood up to him nose to nose. “Watch yourself Prescott. I can ruin you, your father, your future wife, your children, and everyone you’ve ever met with a few simple words. We both know that with your debts to me and the liens I owe on your father’s property that you are not going to say another word otherwise. Not to mention the fact that I could have my man Dove break you into so many pieces that nothing will put you together again. The lady is not my mistress, because a woman standing up for herself and her fellows isn’t a whore. She’s the finest kind of woman that there is.” Pointing towards the lane he smirked. “Now go. Go and do not come back.” Glaring at the pair of them Gaston had gone off down the lane and had in fact never come back again. Contracting a fever while on his European honeymoon he had died shortly afterwards. His wife had given birth to a son in due course-one who now lived with her family up north and was being groomed to take over the Prescott estate someday. “Thank you Lord Gold. I had no idea he would be quite so upset. Miss Lucas and I just wanted to…” “Embarrass him in front of the entire town. You’ve been making a statement then.” He gave her a genuine smile that if she had believed in love at first sight that would have been the moment. Just as quickly though, it disappeared into a smirk. “Yes, I appreciate your reasoning Miss French if not your tactics. Next time, do try to be less obvious.” And with that he had turned and walked away. It had all quickly fallen into place after that first meeting. By sheer luck, they had met again at her cousin’s house in Plymouth, and had been sat together. Apparently he had been golfing with David Nolan, Killian Jones, and Mr Dove and had been miserable the entire time. With his biting sarcasm and quick wit he managed to make his misery sound entertaining. “I know it will make my Scottish ancestors roll in their graves, but if I’m going to be spending hours outside he’d much rather be trekking through the woods, or riding my favorite horse. Hitting a little ball with a club into a little hole feels like a waste of the outdoors.” He frowned at his companions who were all chortling into their port. “And then I have to walk about with Tweedledumb, Tweedledumber, and Tweedledumbest over there.” Looking back, she couldn’t remember when she had laughed so hard. They had discussed literature, the locals in Somerset, and had even discussed her cousin’s atrocious taste in paintings in her parlor. When Ruby Lucas had needed a ride back to the area after getting notice that her grandmother was ill, he had gladly offered to drive both she and Belle back immediately. Ruby’s house was a few miles from Belle’s, and while it would have shocked anyone who saw them, he drove her back to her place so as to give the Lucas family their space. Fog had overtaken them, and they had been forced to sit alongside the road until they could see far enough for the horses to keep moving. At one point, she had thought that he would kiss her-but instead he mentioned how he had once dreamt of being a simple spinner in his youth, but his brother dying and him becoming the eldest had quickly put an end to childish dreams. It wasn’t until they saw the pink light on the horizon, that they realized they had been talking for hours. The fog had disappeared hours before.

By the time the Christmas ball had arrived, Belle knew she loved Lord Gold and that he loved her. While they had yet to kiss, she knew that every word, every walk and conversation was a declaration of their love for one another. Despite the 20 year age difference, they were the perfect foils to one another. They were a good intellectual match, and even though he was known for having a dry humor Belle was able to witness the true kindness underneath. He had helped one of the local farm girls to find a good position after Gaston had fled the country arguing it was a matter of principle as the girl was a good worker. They had courted quietly so that no one except for Ruby and Gold’s manservant Dove even knew about their relationship. When he took her hand and rubbed his thumb over her knuckles, Belle could feel her knees grow weak. What they had a true meetings of the mind, and Belle loved him for it. And then it had all fallen apart. While she had danced with many gentleman at the the Nolan’s Christmas ball, she only had eyes for one man. The corset Mrs. Potts had insisted she wear may have been too tight, but when he had whispered in her ear during a waltz to meet in one of the back rooms away from the ball she felt all the breath leave her body. In her gut she knew, this was the moment. The moment that her life would change. If only she had known at the time how true that was. Rushing back during the musicians break, she found her beloved standing in the smallest backroom staring at the fire. “Robert.” It was the first and only time she had called him by his first name. Normally it was Lord Gold, Mr. Gold, or when she was feeling brave-sweetheart. But as he turned to look at her, she knew that something was wrong. Her Robert never looked at her with such despair in his eyes. Her sweetheart always walked with a posture that spoke of a gentleman of his breeding and intellect. This man looked defeated. “Miss French. I had intended to...I had planned.” He sighed. “I’m afraid I’ve been called away.” “Away?” “Yes. To….well….. to the far east.” Now she was certain, Mrs. Potts had tied her corset far too tightly, as she felt all of the air leave her lungs. “The far east.” He stared through her as if he couldn’t see her. Only now did she notice the letter in his hand. “Yes. As you know I served in the military there many years ago, and I’ve just received notice from his majesty that my services are required again. Apparently there is some sort of a uprising, and they are in need of good officers.” “I see. And when will you be back?” She took a step towards him as anguish crossed his face. “I don’t believe I will be. So few do. Between the locals and the diseases and the distance. It is highly unlikely that I will be returning.” He was so distracted that he had failed to notice her moving closer until she was standing right in front of him. “Belle.” He said her name as a low grumble as she had reached up her hand to cup the side of his face. His eyes closed with longing as he felt her skin against his. “Oh sweetheart. Don’t be afraid, it will only be for a short time and then we can be together again.” Frowning he reached up to remove her hand from his face and stepped away. “No. No I can not and will not tie you to a man that will not be returning.” “You don’t know that.” “I do. I know it in my bones and sure as I am looking at you.” He had moved to the window and sat down on the window seat. “This...attachment..that you and I have formed can not continue. I will leave and your life will go on.” She dashed over to kneel at his side as she felt tears begin to fall down her cheeks. “But Robert. You can always take me with you. I can go with you.” He looked down at her sadly. “That is simply out of the question. That region is no place for a lady, you would come to resent me in time.” “But we love each other! How could that ever happen?” “I know.” As she had begun to sob he had pulled her up off the floor into her lap and removing his gloves had begun to wipe away her tears. “I know. But this is how things must be.” “But why? Why can’t you just refuse?” Even as she said it, she knew that he would never shirk a duty like that. “I’m not some country gentleman who never stirred except to say I told you so. I have this wee body to throw into service and not much to live for.” He had stopped wiping away her tears and had wrapped his arms around her waist, placing his head on her shoulder. “You’re wrong. To live for. You have something to live for.” “What’s that?” He lifted his head to look at her, and she knew this was her chance. She leaned forward and kissed him softly. He didn’t react at first, but then his arms tightened around her waist and he pulled her closer moving his lips against hers. She felt his tongue gently touch against her lips, and we she opened her mouth, she found the kiss going even deeper. She wound her fingers through his hair as they clung to one another. Breaking apart they stared at one another still entwined in each other’s arms. “Stay with me tonight.” The words had left her before she could stop herself. But if she was going to lose him, she wanted at least one memory to hold on to. It was a risk to even ask, but if they were truly to be parted forever it was worth it. He looked at her sadly and disentangling himself from her arms stood up and walked away. “Do you think me no better than Gaston Prescott? Seduce a woman and then walk away leaving her with nothing?” “But we love each other.” He paced away from her. “I’m certain Prescott told those women that he loved them as well. I stand for more decency than that.” Walking to the door, he looked back at her as she continued to sit on the window seat where he had left her. Even with a red nose and tears streaming down her face, she was still the most beautiful sight he had ever laid eyes on. “It does us no good to prolong our goodbyes. Move on with your life Belle. Be happy. At least one of us should be happy.” And with that he was gone. The next few months were the most difficult of Belle’s life. Other locals who had been called up to serve in the Navy or in the campaign died within months. It seemed as if Lord Gold was correct. If it wasn’t the natives, it was the disease. Then Belle’s father had confessed that he had nearly run the estate into the ground. Not wanting to let down the people that she felt responsible for, Belle had turned to managing the one working farm on the property. Dove, not having been called up, had stepped in to show her the ropes. She was grateful that her wool and yarn were enough to support them all-apparently she had a gift for working with sheep and goats. Smiling out at the fields, she had often felt close to her beloved in those quiet moments. No letters came, but then she hadn’t expected any. When she had gotten notice that Liam Jones had died of malaria she had wept for days. Not for Jones, although he had been a kind man. But from fear for Lord Gold. She would stay up for nights begging God or any higher power listening to just make sure that he arrived back alive. Even if they were to be forever apart, she thought the world a better place with him in it. Soon, she was spending so much time out at the farm that she decided it would be better to live there full time. There she could live the simple quiet life that she now craved. Parties no longer held any fun. Her friendships were as close as ever, but she tired of the looks of the older women. She tried to be happy, but happiness seemed to escape her. The first Christmas after he had left she had simply sat in the dark, staring at the invitation to Mary Margaret’s first Christmas ball, remembering the feel of his lips upon hers.

#rumbelle secret santa #kleptomaven #rss gift #fran writing #chapter 1

I Remember

[AO3link]

Rating: Teen

Summary:Rumple wakes up.

This has been bouncing around in my head all summer and I needed to get it out before the new season starts. There are some mild spoilers that have leaked from the hiatus, but nothing major. I'm semi-debating continuing this as a series/spinoff with Archie taking on other therapy patients because if anyone needs therapy it's characters in Storybrooke.

It still bothers me that Belle and Rumple have these memories of a child, but the writers have confirmed that it was their intention that the baby be Neal. This is just my imagining of what happens when Rumple wakes up. This is quite angsty, but at least Archie is around to help some.

Trigger warnings for child loss, PTSD and severe grief.

“Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often time we call a man cold when he is only sad.” Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

“Angry is just sad’s bodyguard.” Liza Palmer

It was amazing how even with a pure white heart, one could still be filled with rage.

In the weeks since he had awoken from his coma, Rumplestikin had been awash with a multitude of different emotions. Frustration, helplessness, sadness. Even more so in the face of his wife’s devastating grief and sorrow. He was a fool in many things, but only a truly heartless person would miss how much Belle was suffering.

He often reflected back on his wife’s face when he woke up in the hospital. Everything had felt off at first and then he looked over and saw her face alight with relief and joy. In the instant he knew that the curse of the Dark One was lifted, he recalled their conversation in the shop before he had collapsed and then a crushing weight of grief fell onto his chest. Neal. He remembered Neal.

He’s not grateful for much, but he thanks whatever higher power that exists that he and Belle had been alone as they sobbed their child’s name in those first moments.

Wiping away tears, she had told him how Snow had asked her to watch Neal one afternoon and that was the only time he had stirred in all the weeks he had been asleep. And that she was sorry.

“What are you sorry for?”

“I thought it might wake you, but it was too hard to be around him. I’ve been begging off babysitting him since then, I just kept saying I had to focus entirely on you. That was selfish of me.”

As she started to cry again, he had reached out telling her that it was alright. That she had to protect her own heart. Softly touching her hair, they had cried again for all that had happened. He begged her forgiveness about the author and with the hat, and she had given it willingly.

“I have a new perspective that I did before. Love isn’t just layered, people are as well.”

#rumbelle fiction #mild spoilers #tw: child loss #rumbelle #fran writing #angst #anti regina #anti snowing #prince and princess of smugtown

Rain rain go away: Chapter 2

A Rumbelle Christmas in July gift for starlightburnbright (STILL more gifts to follow!!!)

Prompt: Cute, Fluff/no violence over angst, Smut

Rating: T for chapter 1, and Mature/Explicit for Chapter 2. Chapter 2: The next few days passed in awkward silence. He seemed keen on avoiding her. He stopped tracking in water and mud from outside, and gave her several nervous glances from across the room. Other than meals he would sit at his wheel or kept himself upstairs in his workroom. Neither of them brought up the moment that had passed between them in the night. Looking out her window, she saw that while it kept raining there were no flashes of lightning or booms of thunder to be found. She wasn't sure that was because of him casting a spell, or if they just been lucky. But when another round of severe weather rolled through the valley several nights later, she knew that they had just gotten lucky. She sat awake in her bed shaking with each crash, but she kept quiet and had a blanket tight around her shoulders. She wouldn't inconvenience him again.

The next morning it was still storming out, and as she served him his breakfast she flinched and spilled his tea when she heard a particularly loud clap of thunder. She looked up at him in fear to see if he had noticed, and found that he was looking at her with a strange expression on his face. "I'm sorry. I'm trying not to be a bother. I was up rather late. I'm sorry." As she grabbed a cloth to wipe up the mess, he continued to look at her with that strange expression. "Tell the truth dearie. You haven't slept at all have you?" He knew he had been up all night as the storm had raged outside, worried about his maid two floors below. His spells didn't work with keeping the sound of nature away from the inside of the castle. Even if he hadn't seen the way her hands shook when the rumbling came from outside, there was no missing the dark circles under her eyes. She stopped wiping at the table and momentarily avoided his gaze. "I don't want to be a bother." "This no bother." She looked up at him. "I can't have a maid who stays up all night. Now you haven't slept at all have you?" She shook her head. Standing up he reached out his hand. "Come with me. There is something for you in one of the spare rooms." Puzzled, she set her rag down and followed him as he quickly walked to the largest spare room on the same floor where her rooms were. As they both stopped outside the door, she noticed that he was twisting his hands in nerves. What could be behind this door that made him so nervous? He gestured toward the handle, and stepped back as she opened the door. She felt her jaw drop as she let out a gasp of shock. Other than entry way, the entire floor was covered with cushions and pillows. There was one lone window in the corner where she could see the rain and while she saw the flashes of lightening, the thunder wasn't as loud here. Hanging from the ceilings were sheets, blankets, and cloths of a variety of sizes. They were draped against chairs and posts that were scattered around the room giving the room the appearance of being a rather large tent filled with smaller tents, little cozy nooks, and hidden corners of a variety of sizes. She knew it was a room, but it looked like a tent. Or like a fort. A pillow fort. She turned back to see him looking up at the ceiling in embarrassment as his hands continued to move nervously. "It's just down the hall from your room. So if you feel the need, you can always come down here and....." She didn't let him finish as she ran towards him and threw her arms around him. "Thank you! I can't believe you were listening." He hesitated awkwardly and then slowly put his hands gently on her back. "Yes well...." he stepped back and tried to fix her a stern look. "Now I don't want to hear any excuses from you. This is your space and you will use it and not bother me with being upset at the weather." He pointed a finger at her hoping to wipe that smile off her face, but she kept grinning at him with that stunning smile of hers. "You remember why you came here dearie. This isn't for beauty sleep, this is so you can get your work done." He put on his scariest Dark One face, but the girl continued to smile at him. He wasn't doing this because he knew it would make her more comfortable, he was doing this because he needed to not worry about her. She shouldn't get the wrong idea. "Of course Rumple. I'll keep up on my duties now of course. Now come on and join me! It's so much fun!" Giggling, she kicked off her shoes and ducked down in between two chairs that had a lone blanket hanging over them. All he could see was her bare feet. He stood there confused at her reaction, and then hesitated even when she spun around and peeked her head out. "Aren't you coming? It's not a pillow fort without company." He would not be intimidated by some shallow slip of a woman. Spelling away his boots, he crawled onto the floor under the blanket and through a pillow tunnel until he found her at the largest nook at the back. She grinned at him from her kneeling position. "This is amazing! How did you think of it all?" He blushed at her praise. "I knew someone that always talked about building a pillow fort. He only had a few threadbare blankets and one pillow, but he would talk with his friends about what his dream space would look like. I assumed that it would appeal to you as well." She had laid down, and leaned up on one elbow with a serious expression. "You're talking about your son aren't you?" Unable to find a comfortable position kneeling, he went to lay down as well propping up his head on one elbow. He moved as far away from her as he could. "Yes, but it's no matter. This is your space now." She smiled at him against with a sad but sleepy expression. Taking a pillow that served as a 'wall' from behind her she placed it under her head. "I'm sorry. It must be hard to talk about him." When he didn't respond, she yawned. "You were right, I'm exhausted. Do you mind staying until I fall asleep? I feel safer if someone is around. My mother always stayed.""I do have better things to do that lie about with some maid." He saw her hurt expression and felt that familiar pang of guilt. "Fine. But the second you fall asleep I'm going back to work." He grabbed a pillow from under a chair for himself and made himself comfortable. "Thank you Rumple. I really appreciate it." She closed her eyes with a peaceful expression. For a few moments he stared at her face. What was it about her that was so enchanting? When she had mentioned that her mother would make pillow forts, he had come down here the next day and made this space for her. She seemed to like it as much as the library. And now here she was peacefully sleeping less than two feet from the Dark One. Why wasn't she afraid? Didn't she know what kind of beast he was? Why did he feel so drawn to her? Rumple continued to stare at her sleeping form as his eyes grew heavy and soon he also slept. Several hours later she awoke wondering why her pillow had gotten so hard. And there was something solid beneath her arm. Lifting her head, she was shocked to realized that she had moved over to cuddle Rumplestiltskin in her sleep. Fortunately he appeared to be asleep as well. He was snoring softly as he laid on his back, and once again she had rested her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arm around his waist. She watched him as he slept. She knew he thought he was a awful beast with no redeeming qualities, but he had done this wonderful kind thing for her. Despite all his protests, she knew he was a kind being underneath all of the scales. As his chest rose and fell, she noticed that his face was more relaxed that she had ever seen him. He was beautiful this way. Knowing that if she woke him he would flee in panic again, she softly moved back to rest her head on his shoulder. She pondered again why it felt as if she was meant to be there. When she woke again, he was gone and her head was back on her own pillow. _____ "Rumple, we don't need to go downstairs. I'm fine now, I haven't had a panic attack like that in years. I was just overtired and the storm is passing through, I'll be fine." "Just come downstairs sweetheart for a moment, you'll be glad you did." His wife had stopped crying after a while and had drifted off to sleep for a hour or so. While she slept he had grabbed several flashlights and electric lanterns, and got to work setting up his plan in the living room. As he led her down the steps, he wondered if she would be disappointed that what he had done wasn't as grand as what he had made for her in the Dark Castle. As she turned the corner, she spotted the pillow fort that he had put together in the living room. He had grabbed the chairs from the dining room, the cushions off the couch, the pillows from the guest bedroom, as well as several blankets and sheets from the linen closet. She stopped in the hallway and stared at the blankets draped over pillows and chairs to make a space for them. "You remembered." "Of course I did. Is it okay? I know it's not as large or as fancy as the one in Dark Castle." He was silenced in his apologies by her lips meeting his. He wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her closer to him. As he moved to deepen the kiss, she pulled back to rest her forehead on his. "I love you so much Rumple. I really am fine and don't need this to keep me calm anymore, but I'm touched you remembered. This reminds me of when I first started falling in love with you." He smiled down at her. "If I'm being honest, it's when I first realized that you were someone important to me to." They smiled at each other as they melted back into the kiss. He felt her tongue dance across his lips, and he opened his mouth meeting her tongue with his own. As their mouths moved together in a romantic dance, her hands drifted down to his bottom to pull them closer together, and he moaned into her mouth as he felt desire shoot through his spine into his groin. She broke the kiss apart to smile that cheeky smile that he loved so much. "Do you remember the last time we were in one of these together?" She moved to take off her nightshirt with a sexy grin. He felt his mouth water as he saw her beautiful pert breasts. "I do. I woke up to find you cuddled next to me and I was terrified. You were so beautiful that I wasn't sure what I done to deserve that." Mimicking her, he removed his t-shirt as well. Dropping her pajama pants to be completely naked in front of him, she smirked. "Well thunderstorms used to be my worst fear. And I always wondered what it would have been like if you had stayed next to me after you woke up. But now I guess I'll need some big strong man next to me to help me feel safe." Winking, she crawled under the canopy. He didn't need to be told twice. Dropping his boxers, he felt his erect cock bounce free of its confines. He crawled under the blanket roof with her. He ran his hand up her side and delighted in feeling her shiver. "Belle. My Belle." "Rumple." She had gone to pull him on top of her when another loud crash of thunder rang out. She flinched, and then put her hands on the side of his face. "Help distract me Rumple. Let's bring the thunder down under." They looked at each other for a beat, and then both started laughing. "Did you really just say let's bring the thunder?" "Yes. I was trying to come up with the most absurd thing I could think of to take my mind off the storm. Did it work?" Her nose crinkled as she continued to giggle. "Indeed it did my dear." They both continued to chuckle, and then he put his hands through her hair and gazed down at her. "I love that we can still laugh when we make love." "Me to sweetheart." With her eyes still twinkling, she reached up to pull him to her. Their kisses were full of passion. Rumple loved that even through the years, the spark was still there. As their mouths moved together, her hands ran up and down his back to come down and grasp his ass again. A slow moan began in his belly and rose up to his escape his throat. Moving his head down to nibble at her throat, he scooted down to take one nipple into his mouth. As he teased the nipple with the tip of his tongue, her hands moved to his hair to pull him closer as she arched her back. As he suckled at her other breast, he moved his hand down to reach in between her legs. Feeling how slick she was, he moved his fingers against her clit slowly in a circle just the way that Belle liked. "Rumple!" She moaned as she pulled up on his head to bring his lips back to hers. She ran her hands down to grab his shaft between her fingers. Running her fingers around the tip, she began to pump him in time with the fingers that danced along her clit. They were a pleasured mix of tongues, groans, gasps, and love. Their breathing filled the room as his hips rolled into her hands. "I love you Belle. I love you so much." He began to move his fingers faster as her gasps grew louder. "Do you know that? Do you feel that?" "Oh yes Rumple. Yes." Her breathing filled the area under the blanket, eager and impatient. Belle moaned, recognizing his need as it matched her own. Her hips undulated of their own accord as his tongue danced across her swollen lips. Fully aroused she decided this would not be a slow sweet lovemaking and she wanted it to be fast and hard. This was enough foreplay. She needed him inside her now and fast. Shoving his hand away, she pulled up on his shoulders to have him resting completely on top of her. "Now. I need you now." He moved her legs apart with his thighs, and then pushed into her quickly. They both groaned in pleasure. As he began to move inside her, he focused on how amazing she felt surrounding him in her slick heat. He lifted up on his elbows to ensure that his pelvis was grinding against her clit, and was rewarded with a renewed groan of "Right there. Faster." As he continued to thrust into her in a quick rhythm, she groaned as she felt filled in the most delicious way possible. As he thrust and rubbed against her, she felt her orgasm build as her breathing increased. Above her Rumple grunted as he pumped his hips to move faster and faster. He could also feel his need to come building in his groin. Soon both of them were crying out in pleasure as she felt her release shoot through core and through her arms and legs. Not relenting his pace, he continued to thrust into her. She gasped as she she came down from her first orgasm only to feel a second only quickly building again. As he continued to keep up his rapid pace, he reached down to move his fingers across her clit again. Her hips bucked in response as she screamed out in ecstasy. Thrusting deeply several more times, he began to convulse inside of her until he came deep within her. While they basked in their shared afterglow, Belle realized the storm had stopped and that the house was quiet. She cuddled up next to his shoulder and breathed a sigh of contentment. "That is always still so amazing." He chuckled as he wrapped his arms around her. "Did I bring the thunder?" Smacking his shoulder with a giggle she smirked. "Stop with that joke you silly man." Sighing she snuggled down to rest her head on his chest. "I love this feeling. It's like I was made to fit right here." Kissing the top of her head as he thought about how he was the luckiest man in the world, "That's because you were."

#rumbelle christmas in july #rcij #starlightburnbright #chapter 2 #fran writing

Rain rain go away: Chapter 1

A Rumbelle Christmas in July gift for starlightburnbright(more gifts to follow!!!)

Prompt: Cute, Fluff/no violence over angst, Smut

Rating: T for chapter 1, and Mature/Explicit for Chapter 2.

Chapter 1

For the first time in centuries, Rumplestiltskin was sleeping the dreams of a man who was at peace with life. The nightmares about being the Dark One, losing his family, and Zelena's torture still came back from time to time, but his sleep was less haunted by memories than ever before.

It had taken months of therapy and long conversations with Belle, but for the first time he had contentment with his wife that he had never believed was possible. Their marriage had come so far in the past 2 years with rebuilding trust, overcoming the addiction to power that the dark curse encouraged, dealing with their estrangement to everything in between. He had learned to worry less about if Belle would leave if he expressed worry or weakness, realizing that she truly loved all parts of him both good and bad. “You’re my missing puzzle piece Rumple.” It was not being honest about his fears and weaknesses that caused problems, not the fears themselves.

Which is why he was terrified to awake from this land of fulfillment to the sounds of his wife crying.

He continued to rub her shoulders. “You’re crying. I’m not going to go back to sleep. Just tell me what’s wrong.” She shook her head into the pillow. “I’m not crying. You’re crying.” Despite herself, she let out a chuckle. “It’s silly. It’s nothing, just go back to sleep.” “It’s clearly not nothing.” He paused, then sighed as she continued to sniffle. “If it’s really this upsetting I need to know what it’s about. Please.” Wiping away her tears, Belle removed her face from the pillow and rolled over to face him. Even with her tear stained cheeks and red nose, he still thought she was still the most beautiful woman that he had ever seen. She had opened her mouth to speak when with a loud crash of thunder the light snapped back out. Yelping and with renewed sobs Belle flung herself towards him, burying her head into his neck. As she shook and cried, Rumple knew what the problem was even if Belle couldn’t speak the words. He moved to wrap his arms around her and whispered soft condolences into her hair. He also knew the solution. _____ She had been in the Dark Castle for several months before the first summer storm had rolled through the valley. Rumplestiltskin had been out on one of his many deals, and as she stood on the balcony and watched the dark clouds flash in the distance she smelled the breeze carry the scent of forest and rain. Realizing the storm was heading towards the castle, she had fled to the basement and hidden in one of the open basement rooms. She felt safer and much more calm being underground and surrounded by the heavy stone walls. She hoped to continue to keep her phobia a secret from the Dark One. She knew that if he had spotted his maid’s panicked run down the stairs and then spotted her shivering in a corner, he would have smirked at her and teased her without mercy. When several weeks passed without another storm, she thought she would be fine. If the weather only got bad once or twice a year up here it would be easier to manage her worries.And then came late summer and it began to rain in earnest. When it had been pouring for five days straight without stopping, she had asked Rumplestiltskin about the weather patterns in the region. She had surprised to find him quite unconcerned as he shrugged it off. “August is the the rainy season in this part of the world dearie. It will do this straight through to the beginning of September.” “You mean you're going to be tracking in water for a month?” She had stopped mopping up a large puddle in the great hall to stare at him as he sat by the fire. “Are you already complaining about the mopping puddles after less than a week? Don’t forget when you agreed to be my housekeeper, you said you would be willing to do any task without complaint.” He frowned as she continued to stare at him. “It’s only water. Wait until you have to go out in the wind and lightening to make sure the gardens are safe.” She let out a squeak. “Lightening? I’ll have to go out in weather that severe?” “Never fret dearie, I’m sure you’ll be perfectly safe and your dress won’t be too ruined.” He had made his usual hand gesture that he knew got a rise out of her, and was about to giggle when he noticed that she had gone deathly pale. He had only been playing a game as it was always fun to pretend to argue with Belle. It made him less nervous to be in her presence. Not that she needed to know that. He wasn’t actually going to force her go outdoors during the rainy month if she didn't want to, but if the woman was going to complain about puddles then she deserved some good natured ribbing. But as she swayed in place with her mop as if she was about to faint, he realized that she wasn’t just nervous about water on her clean floors or getting her dress wet-Belle was absolutely terrified about going outdoors. This wouldn’t do. A terrified maid didn't get any cleaning done. “Calm down woman. It was only a quip. Just make sure you clean up the halls without complaint and the rainy season will be over soon enough.” He pointed at her smirking, “Or else I’ll turn you into a frog and then you’ll really enjoy hopping in the puddles.” Standing up to leave, he heard her soft giggle of relief. “As if you’d actually turn me into a frog Rumple. Who would clean up your halls then?” He was pleased to see the color come back into her cheeks, and then was annoyed at himself for caring. What did it matter to him if storms made his maid nervous? He was the Dark One and wasn’t going to care about anyone. Not even pretty maids with piercing blue eyes and chestnut curls. “Then stop standing around dearie. There’s a mud stain on the carpet in the front room that will need your attention as well.” Putting as much distance between her and him as possible was a good idea. Hearing her hum a happy domestic tune while mopping would do nothing for his mood. As soon as he left, Belle put her hand on her stomach and closed her eyes to pull herself together. Three more weeks of rain and severe weather to get through. Now that she was calm, she knew that Rumple had been trying to rile her up into a argument again, but in the moment all she could think about was having to be outside as streaks of lightning crossed the sky. She hadn’t been out in a storm in years and had been overwhelmed with panic. Still, now that she was prepared she could get through the next few weeks with him being none the wiser. Three weeks wasn’t so very bad was it? She made it all of three days. _____

After Cruella, Maleficent, and Ursula had abducted her, he had put in additional security spells as an added precaution. It was charmed to his room in emergency situations. And so when his wards went off, he was immediately on his feet. Throwing off his blanket, he snapped his fingers to appear fully dressed outside her bedroom door. Now that he was standing outside her room, he realized he hadn’t thought this plan through. He had planned for someone breaching the castle, but he couldn’t hear any other noises coming from inside. What was he going to do now? He heard her scream again, and all clear thought left his mind as he threw the door open and ran in. She had lit two lanterns before going to sleep and so while he didn’t see anyone attacking her he still peered into the various corners trying to spy any villains. Another flash and crash went off outside and she sat up quickly in her bed. In the light he could see that she had startled herself awake and had begun hyperventilating. For a moment she stared at him with wild eyes as she struggled to take a breath. Rushing towards her, he grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. "Calm yourself down and breathe dammit! You take a deep breath right now you silly thing." As the surprise contact shocked her into taking a deep inhale, she hit him hard in the shoulder. "Who in the hell do you think you are?! What are you doing in my room?" And then burst into tears. He didn't care if she hit him as long as she was breathing normally. "This is my home and I'll go wherever I want to. You weren't breathing, and you needed the shock to snap you out of it. Now tell me what is going on." Somehow he found himself sitting on the side of her bed as she continued to cry. "Will you stop with the crying?" He hated it when women cried, Belle in particular. "Did you have some kind of silly nightmare?" She brushed tears away from her face and looked down at her hands. "Somewhat silly yes. It's just that...." But before she could speak there was a flash of lighting and then a loud crash as it struck one of the trees in the forest. It was some distance away, but it still sounded like cannon fire. Rumplestiltskin found himself with his arms full of a weeping sobbing woman. And then it clicked. "It's the storm. You're afraid of thunder and lightening." She nodded her head as she kept her face turned into his shoulder. "You're going to laugh at me, I know that. But it terrifies me, and when I'm sleeping it causes terrible nightmares. So much for bravery right?" As another bang quickly followed, her shoulders shook in fear. Thrown off by her physical response he wasn't sure how to respond to this confession. "You woke me up with your screaming." She looked up at him and he tried not to notice how close her face was to his. Or how she smelled. Or that she seemed to fit into his arms like she was meant to be there. "I'm sorry. I tried not to have another panic attack, but it's hard to control when I'm sleeping." "You mean this has happened before?!" How had he not noticed? There had been several storms in the months that Belle had been here that he was aware of. "Have you been hiding around the castle every time?" She put her head back on his shoulder and shrugged guiltily. "If I'm awake I tend to hide in an enclosed space like the basement. When I was young, my mother would make these structures out of pillows and blankets. She called them pillow forts. It was closed in, but somehow it worked." She squirmed into a more comfortable position. "I've been staying up and going to the basement whenever I hear thunder in the distance. It's not quite the same, but it's a enclosed space so it helps." Well that explained why he hadn't heard her screaming before now. The wards were only for her quarters. "Belle. You should have said something." he said softly. She looked up into his face again and he felt a tug at his heart as their eyes met. The moment was charged with tension. "Why do you care?" He frowned at her, and quickly stood up leaving her to fall back on the bed. "I don't. But I could have charmed your room to keep you from hearing the noise outside. Or your kitchen. Then I wouldn't have to put up being woken up by silly maids in the middle of the night." He glanced back at her to see her tilting her head at his response, and saw the sadness flash into her eyes. The moment was broken. "Of course Rumplestiltskin. My apologies. Well, thank you for coming to check on me. As I said, I know it's silly. I won't trouble you again." This wasn't the way he expected this conversation to go. She didn't have the right to make him feel guilty. He was reading too much into her head being on his shoulder. She didn't need him specifically, she had just been afraid. "See that you don't." And with a flick of his hand he disappeared in a cloud of smoke. She fell back on her pillows and stared up at the ceiling. 'Well that could have been worse,' she thought to herself. While he hadn't teased her, he had seemed annoyed at being disturbed. Now she felt embarrassed as well as scared. She noticed that the storm had begun to die down, although it was still raining. As a young child before she had understood what a thunderstorm was, she had feared the loud sounds and bright flashes from outside her bedroom window. It didn’t help matters that her mother was also clearly afraid of storms, and would often let Belle crawl into bed with her as they both leapt and screamed at every crash. Her father had humored both of them. Then when she was 10, she had awoken to what sounded like an ogre coming through the castle walls. In reality, a bolt of lightning had struck one of the guardhouses and the wooden roof had instantly gone up in flames. One guard had been killed, and from that moment Belle became paralyzed with fear during every thunderstorm that came through Avonlea. Trying to conquer her own fear for the sake of her daughter, her mother came up with ways to distract her during these episodes. Things like their pillow fort. It was only blankets draped over chairs and pillows on the floor, but she had never felt more secure than she had in her mother's arms. In adulthood Belle had tried to shake her worries by reading up on what she could find out about lightening storms in her father’s library. While the older books talked about storms resulting from angering the gods, there were other new scientific authors that argued that thunder and lightening were a natural phenomenon linked to heat in the summer, although they all debated as to why this occurred and what lightning actually was. Intellectually, she knew the odds were slim that lightning would hit her. It was far more likely that Philippe would throw her from her saddle while riding one day, and she still rode him for miles everyday. And yet every time she heard the rumble of thunder-the hairs on the back of her arms stood up on end and she felt that familiar tingle of panic in her gut. More recently, the sound of thunder and lightening during the night caused her to have fevered flashbacks to when her mother was killed. In her dreams, the crashes were the ogres beating down the library door or her mother’s screams. She would often wake up crying, and then once she realized what was happening would be almost paralyzed with fear. Apparently this time her dreams included screaming. She had been shocked to see Rumplestiltskin standing in her room with a look of concern on his face. And then complete terror as he realized she wasn't breathing. The shaking had startled her, but it was the way he had felt beneath her arms as she had snuggled against him. She fit into his side as if she was meant to be there, and that made her feel confident enough to tell him about her fears. She had thought that he hadn't minded lying with her, but once again she was reading too much into things. As she drifted off to sleep to the sounds of quiet raindrops, she wondered why that thought made her so very sad.

#rumbelle christmas in july #rcij #chapter 1 #fran writing #starlightburnbright

A Love Match: Chapter 2

[Chapter 1]

[AO3link]

Summary: Lord Gold makes his way to Maine

He was freezing. He had been traveling all over Boston and now was heading to the Maine seaside in the middle of winter and he was freezing.

Staring down at his leather gloves, he thought about how the bitter Maine wind still pierced through his thick woolen coat. He only hoped that Belle had dressed warmly and was safe at the French summer home. Hopefully her father’s guess that she would be running short on money was correct. As he sat back in his seat he could feel the cold seeping through his traveling boots.

His entire relationship with Belle had turned out to be a disaster. When he had come to America to find a rich wife, he had planned on find some rich bitter widow or homely spinster to marry him. Perhaps not from one of the more established society families like the Vanderbilts or the Astors, but from a respectable and wealthy one just the same. He had not expected to fall in love with a smart, witty, beautiful heiress that had a laugh that tinkled like china and a gaze that he felt in his very soul. Love had not been part of the plan.

#rumbelle fic #rumbelle #fran writing #fic: a love match

A Love Match

Rating: Mature

Summary: A spinster heiress had always been told that a marriage based on love is the one to aim for. A Scottish nobleman travels to Boston to find himself a wife. Love had not been part of his plan.

Through family pressure and misunderstandings they find themselves married. Upon their return to his country manor, could they end up a love match after all?

Inspired by the short story "Miracle" by Brenda Joyce

[AO3link]

Storybrooke, Maine-1904

She was freezing. She was in the middle of her family’s summer home in the middle of January and she was freezing.

Isobel French was hiding from her fiancé’, Lord Rhys Gold. She had run away 6 weeks ago, in the early morning hours after their engagement party. She had managed to grab all of the money from her father’s safe in the study downstairs, and stuff several scarves, hats, gloves and tights into her valise before sneaking away before the servants arose. She had fled to a friend’s house back in Boston first, but she quickly realized this was the first place her father and finance would look for her.

She had gone to ground quickly after that-staying at hotels and flophouses that would have shocked her family and close friends if they had seen her. But she had to get away. She could not face being married to a man who did not love her. Running appeared to be the only option.

She knew that many people married for position, status or money-but Belle had always been taught by her mother to dream of a love match. “Love is a rare thing. A many layered treasure that is worth waiting for.” She had refused to accept Gaston based upon that ideal years ago, and while her father had understood at the time, he had also made it very clear in the intervening years that he would not tolerate such an incident occurring again. The French family status was at stake now. Now that she was practically considered a spinster in her social circle, her father had been making sly comments that this was all due to her stubborn need for a love match.

“Just find someone of good standing that doesn’t revolt you and love will come.”

He had been pleased when Gold had started to court her, and she knew he would not be pleased with the current situation. Gold was clever as well, he would talk to her and try and fool her again.

For the moment she wasn’t sure if he and her father had given up looking for her, but she didn’t dare risk writing to anyone until at least a few more weeks had passed. But when the money started to run out and with the full brunt of winter rolling in, she got desperate. She knew the family house in Maine would be shut up for winter and she wasn’t far from there. She’d have to scramble from the pantry for food, but at least she would have a roof over her head and she would be able to stay warm. She had used the last of the money to have a stranger give her a ride in his wagon to just outside the Storybrooke limits. She managed to walk from there.

She had never been to the house in Maine at any time other than the height of summer when the heat in Boston became overwhelming. She had known it would be cold, but she had no idea just how frigid it could get here. Ever since walking for several hours to get up to the house, she had struggled with getting warm. Even with several blankets wrapped around her, several pairs of woolen tights on her legs, gloves, and a hat -she was still shivering. She had managed to remove her sodden travelling boots, and wore thick woolen socks over her tights. Somehow she had managed to get her corset off and had stopped wearing it early on in her travels but had taken to wearing her dresses backwards. Normally her maid Ruby dealt with closing all the buttons up the back, but Belle had to practical.

Not for the first time she was grateful that the staff had canned most of the summer garden and had left several jars behind. There were some preserved fish from the local cannery that kept her from starving, although she was still hungry. There were only a few candles in the larder, and she didn’t risk lighting them unless she absolutely had to.

There were gaslights, but she was worried that would draw attention to the house. She would have lit the fire in the grand fireplace in the main room for warmth, but there was no wood. Belle wasn’t sure she would even know how to start a fire even if there had been. She could handle the cold, if it just bought her some more time. If she waited it out a few more weeks than Gold would give up and go back to Scotland and leave her poor broken heart in peace. Her reputation might never recover, but she didn’t care. How she hated him. How she hated herself for not being able to see through him.

It was the betrayal that made her shiver now. She had been in love with him, and thought he had loved her in return. She had been deceived, and now hid because of fear and sorrow. He had never loved her. Wiping away tears she felt foolish looking back at that now. She shivered while pulling the blankets tighter to try to go to sleep, and as she drifted off her chest ached with sadness. _________ When she had first met him in her cousin Regina’s house, she had thought he was rather peculiar. Even without the deep Scottish brogue, he had a manner that was different then all the other men she had met in Boston. He was older than her, but that never bothered her. What made him unusual was the way that he had spoken to her. As if her opinion mattered, as if he respected her, as if he were actually listening. Had even their first meeting be a set up? A sham to get her attention.

Normally she wouldn't have been inside her cousin’s house, but her cousin’s stepson Roland had been ill with the measles. Regina had never had the illness before and so had been sent away to Belle’s house for her own safety. Regina had worried about the boy being left behind with only nurses and maids to watch him. Roland knew the stories about his own mother Marian dying of illness and so was quite upset. Which meant that Regina was quite upset as well. For all her faults, she loved the boy as if he was her own. In the two weeks she had been at the French mansion she had started to drive everyone around her insane as she had asked for daily updates from her home. She had sent over their footman so often that he had been neglecting his other duties.

“Robin is so busy with business that he’s not able to visit him as much as he would like. I know he’s worried after what happened with Marian, but even with a child’s illness a man’s world goes on.”

Regina’s husband was one of the most successful businessmen in Boston and Regina adored him. Belle had noticed that even as Regina had fretted, her hands were twisting her handkerchief into a tight knot.

“I’m just so worried Belle! What if something happens to him? When I told him I was coming to your house for a few days, he asked me if he was going to die. I don’t think I could bear it, and even though he tries to put it out of his mind, I know Robin is in a panic as well.”

Seeing the strain on her cousin’s face, Belle made a decision. She had had the measles before, and had nothing to fear from being around the boy. Regina might not be her favorite relative, but she was quite fond of Roland.

“Regina, if you don’t think Robin will object and if my father approves, I can go to your home and watch over Roland. Sending the servants over everyday across town is far too stressful for them and for you. I will make sure that you get twice daily updates. It will also be good for him to have someone around that is family. I can bring over some books and read to him. ”

Her cousin had hugged her so hard in that moment that she had been unable to breathe.

Partly coming out of her dozing, she dimly noticed that it was getting darker outside the house. That explained the increasing temperature drop that had woken her up. Tucking her hands under the blanket, Belle curled up into a tighter ball to try and draw as much heat as she could into the space under the blankets and drifted back to her dream. ______ She had been at the house for less than a week when she had run into him. Literally run into him. Robin and Regina had both been so grateful to her for watching over Roland. At the moment, Robin had several business associates in the parlor along with her father, and so she had tried to stay out of the way. It was highly unusual to have a meeting with guests when a child as sick as Roland was in the house, but apparently there was important business that could not wait. As a precaution the maids had scrubbed the parlor, and only the staff that lived off property were tending to the gentlemen.

The doctor had said that Roland was coming down from the contagious stage. His rash was fading, and his face no longer had that flushed look. He still asked for his mama frequently, and he was still very ill but there was less concern about him dying. Belle had taken reading to him after lunch before his afternoon nap.

After Roland went off to sleep dreaming about knights and fairies, Belle had gone down to the kitchen to get herself a cup of tea, planning on resting in a sunny window in one of the sitting rooms for a few hours with her favorite book. She had let the maids make her daily cup when she first arrived but quickly found that their tea skills were severely lacking and so had taken to walking down to the kitchens to make a cup herself. Walking up from the kitchen with her full cuppa in her left hand and her book under her right, she heard the male voices coming from the parlor. When her father had entered he had nodded and walked by, merely taking a moment to kiss her cheek. The French shipping company lead the family fortunes for several generations now, and Maurice French vowed to ensure its continued success. She shook her head, and taking a quick sip of tea moved past the parlor and went to turn down another hallway. Only to walk into something solid.

“What the….?”

She had nearly fallen on her backside from the rebound, but whoever she had run into had quickly reached out and grabbed her left elbow and kept her from falling. The tea cup she had been holding flew out of her grasp, and splashed tea over herself and what was clearly now a man before it hit the floor with a clang.

She looked down in horror at the tea staining the front of her dress, to the cup lying on the floor to the book lying in a puddle. Her eyes shot up to look in the face of the person in front of her.

“Oh! I am so sorry! I was just heading down to the library and wasn’t looking where I was going.”

He wasn't much taller that her. Normally she would have had to crane her neck to meet a man in the eye. He was a older gentleman and was wearing a black sack jacket, with a matching tie and trousers. If Belle had to guess she would have placed him in his mid-40’s. His long brown hair that was streaked with gray was quite out of fashion, but some how worked with his suit and with his face. His jacket was unbuttoned showing off his silk waist coat that was a mossy green that fit with the season. A waistcoat that currently had a growing tea stain. At the moment his eyes were closed in exasperation.

“I would expect one of the Locksley house maids to be a bit more careful with where they are going dearie.”

Hearing the rich Scottish brogue for the first time made a tingle go up her spine, and Belle was just realizing her annoyance that this man thought she was a maid, when he opened his eyes and he looked at her. If she had thought him interesting before seeing his eyes made her realize that he was even more handsome than she had first thought. His hair framed his face in a way that made the angles of his face soften, particularly in regards to his longish nose. There were crinkles next to his very expressive eyes, which were a lovely shade of brown. As her took her in, she saw them rapidly soften from their initial flash of anger, to confusion that she was clearly not a servant, to amusement, to shock, to apology. He released her elbow as if she had burned him.

“My apologies Mrs. Locksley. It was my understanding that the only ladies in the house at the moment were servants and one of extended family members. I had been told that you were staying with relations while young master Roland was ill. Please do allow me to assist with the mess. It appears as if your book is drenched in tea” He bent down to pick up the dropped tea cup and her book.

She laughed at his overly formal language. Clearly he was embarrassed at thinking she was a maid. Especially if he thought she was Regina.

“You should not apologize sir. It was I that was walking too fast down the hallway. Especially with a full cup of tea. Although I am not Mrs. Locksley, but in fact her cousin. Miss Isobel French.”

He had just stood back up with her book and tea cup in hand. He appeared to be surprised at hearing her name, did he perhaps know her? There was some other emotion that passed across his face quickly before the polite mask slipped back into place, but even months later she had never been able to explain that expression. Perhaps it was happiness at realizing he had orchestrated their meeting.

In her slumber on the couch in Maine, Belle grumbled and turned into the back cushions in frustration.

“Ah yes, Miss French. I am familiar with your father from the club I apologize for the misunderstanding.”

“It was an interesting one to make. Apparently I am either a maid or the lady of the house.”

“Yes...well.” He looked about for a moment. “It is a mistake that anyone could make. Especially when one has their eyes closed.“

“You have also neglected to introduce yourself as you go barreling down hallways.”

Why was she teasing him? She wasn’t normally one to flirt, but it seemed to come naturally with him. He smirked at her.

“One does not generally go about planning on introducing themselves to servants Miss French. I am Lord Gold of Carlyle.”

“Oh are we calling me servant again? And here I thought we had reached a understanding.”

That odd expression passed over his face again as she finished her remark. Based on the redness in his cheeks she had embarrassed him again. Moving he gave her a little bow and handed her book back to her.

“I believe I will stop talking Miss French as I seem to keep saying the wrong thing. I do apologize for keeping you, you must be wanting to speak to a maid before the stain has a chance to set.”

Laughing softly she said, “Please do not apologize for the drink or my attire again. It is only tea after all. And fabric is easily mended”

Frowning she looked down at the soggy book in her hand and sighed. “If anything I am more distressed about the book being ruined. Bleak House is one of my favorite novels and I had brought this copy from home. Your waist coat also appears to be worse for wear. I believe if you head to the parlor, Mr. Locksley can have you speak to his valet. Apparently he is quite talented.”

He had glanced down at his suit. Whether he was frowning at having a lady apologize to him several times when he had repeatedly called her a servant, at the stain, or in confusion at the idea of speaking to a valet she didn’t know.

“That, Miss French, is an excellent suggestion. I will go and speak to Mr. Locksley now. The staff should bring you a new cup of tea and clean up the mess. This cup appears to be chipped during our....” That interesting flush was pinking his cheeks again “our ah...initial meeting.”

She shook her head while smiling at him.

“Thank you for taking the china away, but please do not trouble the staff. They are all talented girls I am sure, but not at making tea.”

He smirked at this statement. “Yes well, I am of the opinion that seems to be the case with all serving girls in Boston. Apparently you all haven’t known what to do with tea since that tea party you had two hundred years ago.”

“Are you saying that Scottish servant tea making skills are far superior to ours?”

“They do have more years of practice and more discerning palettes generally yes.”

“Perhaps it is only poor luck while you have been in Boston. There surely must be at least one serving girl in Scotland that is a disaster with tea. ”

He had tilted his head as she spoke. “Perhaps. I have yet to find a worthy tea room in the city however.”

“Well, I will be sure to send you a note to share the good ones in the vicinity the Lord Gold. Although I will admit that I am loathe to share that information who has such a poor view of the Boston Tea Party. Perhaps you are here to take something away from us colonies again.”

Chuckling, she gazed at his face and noticed that his face was carefully blank. Stupid Belle. Didn't her father say she was too clever for her own good? First with the silly flirting, and now remarks about tea rooms. Who wanted to hear a woman talking American history and offering to send personal notes to a gentleman. The man must think her uncouth and forward.

“Thank you for your kindness Miss French, but I assure you that your colonies are quite safe from us Scotch nobleman. If you would excuse me, I must return to the meeting. I will not keep you. Please give my regards to young master Roland.”

And with another small bow he had walked off. They had spoken for less than two minutes, and Belle had already felt herself drawn to him. Conversation had flowed so easily she had forgotten all about the ‘rules’ of what was considered proper conversations between ladies and gentleman.

Most men in her social circle would have been aloof as proprietary called for, but he had been quite frank and even quipped about the tea in Boston. Her former beau Gaston would have never smirked or joked about her being a maid-and would have frowned at her reading Dickens. Women who were well read were upsetting to Gaston. “They get such dangerous ideas in their silly little heads.”

Such was the case for many men. Robin was unique in how he treated Regina, but for the most part ladies were simply expected to run the household and go to all of the social events. Reading anything more than the society pages was quietly frowned upon by most matrons and their husbands. Exchanging even a small debate with a man alone in a hallway would be shocking for most of the French society set.

Walking back to her rooms to talk to the maid about laying out a new day dress, Belle rolled her eyes at the thought of some of those society matrons. She was not looking forward to seeing all of them at Lady Jenkins’ charity ball at the end of next week. It was the big kick off of the social season, but Belle had always been bored at the event. At 25 years of age, she was now considered a spinster by nearly everyone present, and so no one paid her much attention.

Most of the evening would be spent with Regina discussing the Whitney family’s eldest daughter and if she really thought wearing that dress suited her figure. Or wondering when Eric Prince would finally proposing to Ariel Triton. He had been making soft eyes and filling up her dance card at every ball. Ariel’s mother had murmured complaints about Eric’s tardiness since last season. Rounding the stairs to the guest quarters, she wondering if the strangely fascinating Lord Gold would be attending. Lady Jenkins wouldn't pass up the chance to invite a Scottish lord to her ball. She did have a daughter of her own to marry off, and a title would be too good to pass up. ______

Stirring awake, Belle took a moment to take in her surroundings. The room had gone completely dark from the last time she had stirred, and while it was much colder she had managed to get some warmth as she slept. Feeling the familiar ache in her chest, tears filled her eyes. Here she had thought she would tell stories to her children about how their father had spilled tea all over her and thought she was a maid, but instead it was all a lie. He had never wanted her or loved her, only her money. When she had returned home later that week and saw that he had mailed a new copy of Bleak House to her father’s house with another note of apology, she had been touched by the gesture. Now she knew it was all a farce to get her to notice him. To get her to fall in love with him. How stupid she was.

Standing up to go upstairs to bed, the wind began to howl. For a moment she thought of wolves. “Stop it Isobel Collette French. You know where are no wolves in this part of Maine. It’s just the wind.”

As her voice echoed in the silent room, she heard a banging noise and started. One of the shutters must have come loose. But as the banging increased as she tightened the blanket around her, she realized it was coming from the front entryway instead. Feeling panic rising up in her throat, she quietly stepped into the foyer. As she did, the door burst open. There were two men standing in the dim light and swirling wind, and as one of them stepped forward Belle recognized her fiancé’ at once.

He had found her. There was no where left to hide.

#rumbelle fic #rumbelle #fran writing #fic: a love match