Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Here we are,” Rumple grunted a little as he stepped in from the porch with a bundle of logs in his arms. The weight of them wasn’t what brought him the effort, it was the negotiation through the space that was his biggest struggle. No matter how open their home was, hefting the wood for the fire always felt like wandering a maze. The two of them usually joked about it, but today Rumple was caught not on the door frame or a corner of the furniture, but by the sight of his wife.

Belle was moving from the kitchen sink to their spice shelf with the same tiny, rigid strides his aunties had employed for ambulation as he’d gotten older. The best for stiff joints and sore muscles, they’d said when he asked, and now the words replayed themselves in his mind as his true love moved about their kitchen with intense concentration. Body stooped to the task of reaching, her hands gripped the solid counter for support. She made her way without seeming to recognize his presence, and so Rumple watched as she lifted the jar that was her target and set it out to use.

The sight sent a cascade of questions through his mind. How much time had passed while he was away in the other realm? Had she truly aged so much in his absence? Would they now only have days left together simply because they needed supplies that this realm could not provide? Rumple swore at himself for taking too long to gather everything. Hours passed too quickly here for him to be dallying and hunting down the impossible. For the first time in what felt like ages, he wondered if he could pull the dagger out of the box just once more. Perhaps the next time he could leave while Belle was asleep and put the house and everything in it under a preservation spell until he returned.

A groan of pleasant satisfaction yanked Rumple’s mind from the inevitable future and back to the present, where Belle was stretching to her full height, hands massaging her lower back. He imagined the crack of bones settling into place as her shoulders rotated just enough to remove the stoop out of her posture and restore some of the youth that she’d possessed before he’d said his farewell.

Grasping a pot that was beside her, she turned and caught sight of him, laden with what he hadn’t been sent out to find. Seeming to be the picture of good health, Belle looked up at him with an innocent and loving smile that grew as she took in the sight of him. “Rumple. You’re back.”

“I…” He didn’t know what to say or what to do, only stood there, dumbly cradling the pile of wood in his arms as if it were a newborn babe. “Uh… Wood. For the fire.”

Belle laughed. “You went all the way to another realm for what we have plenty of?”

“No. No. Of course not.” Stumbling out of his stupor, Rumple lurched forward and dropped the wood on the floor between the table and the hearth. “Here,” he said, reaching past her to take the pot. “Let me do that.”

The corners of Belle’s mouth twitched a little and her eyes took on that inquisitive expression which always burned into him and sparked a fire of need. “All right…” Her words paused so that she could study him while he worked to set the pot to hang in the hearth. “Rumple. Is everything all right?”

He froze, body caught mid-stoop, hands reaching for the abandoned firewood. “Yes,” he told her too quickly while peering over his shoulder. “Of course it is.”

Though his posture was ridiculous and his angle displayed the precise way that his leather pants conformed to his backside, Belle didn’t giggle or tease him by reaching out. Instead, she studied him for a moment, then turned to look at the counter and back at the door again. “You were standing there just a minute ago, weren’t you?” One of her hands raised to point accusingly at the still open door and Rumple’s heart fell.

“Well, I only just came in.” He tried to answer without properly answering, but Belle had known this diversion since their first days in the castle.

She let out a hum of nonacceptance and turned her head at an angle that forced her to study him from the corner of her eye. “How long were you watching me?”

Long enough to break my heart, Rumple thought, but swallowed down the answer before sharing it. “Not long.”

Belle rolled her eyes and reached out to guide him back to a proper, standing position. “Rumple, I’m fine. You barely lost a few weeks while you were away.”

She had seen through him then, but he shouldn’t have expected anything to the contrary. His Belle had always been the most intelligent woman he knew. Fooling her was practically an impossibility and Rumple wouldn’t have it any other way. Moisture filled Rumple’s eyes and he blinked it away before the blur in his vision could become fallen tears. “But I… I saw you just now. Belle, if you need a healer or medicine from-”

Gentle hands took Rumple by the shoulders and grounded him with their presence. “Rumple, I’m fine. I slept wrong in the night is all. It’s a pulled muscle or a pinched nerve. Nothing a hot bath won’t cure… and I’m sure you could arrange that for me later.”

An image came to him then of Belle in the tub by the fire, light dancing over her pale skin and catching in the droplets that caressed her. Rumple felt his need for her grow, but tamped it down to study her closely. Before either of them ended up with clothes on the floor he needed to know that she wasn’t just indulging him. Everything seemed all right now that he was standing here, but worry still fed his doubts. “You’re sure?”

“I’m positive,” she insisted. “Believe me, my family line is drawn through a long list of people who grew to be ancient, healthy people, even by the standards of the Enchanted Forest. It will be quite a long time before you find me hobbling around like an old maid.”

As if to prove her point, Belle moved to the pump and proceeded to manipulate the handle so that water poured easily from the spout into a pot below. Then she shut off the flow and hefted the pot full of water out of the sink and down to her side. She stood like that, weighted down by her burden for a minute or more before finally stepping his way.

“If you want to help-”

“Of course.” Rumple reached for the pot, only to have her turn and nod at the counter.

She finished with a playful grin. “Peel the potatoes.”

“Potatoes. Of course.” Reaching for one, the memory of his entrance came back to him, including the moment when he’d piled several small bags onto the ground outside in the hopes that the most important one would change its state a little while he was dealing with the wood for the fire. “Oh! The groceries!”

Escorted out of the house by Belle’s laughter, Rumple dashed to the bottom of the steps, where he’d left the few bags and suitcase that had come with him from another realm. There wasn’t really much to speak of, just a few necessities from another life that made things more comfortable here. There was also meat and a handful of fruits and vegetables that simply refused to be grown in this realm. Prized above all of these, however, was a single bag made of rough cloth, small and insignificant except for the ring of wet earth that it left behind once Rumple lifted it.

This small bag caused the most chaos when he reentered the house, making Belle squeak with displeasure and reach for a towel. “Rumple! You’re spilling!”

Able to focus now more on pleasure than concern, Rumple chose to translate Belle’s words from a complaint into something more seductive. He waggled his eyebrows at her and flashed a devilish grin. “Well, I will for you, Sweetheart. Wherever you’d like.” The words and the bag were delivered as one, preventing the response that would normally come with such flirting.

Instead Belle gasped with surprise. “Oh! That’s cold!” Reflexively, she released the bag and it went crashing to the floor, breaking apart the chunk of ice that was inside. A few chips spilled out, but the majority of it was saved by the thickness of the bag that surrounded it. Belle bent to investigate one of the chips and her eyes widened with surprise. “Ice?”

Rumple nodded. “I thought we could have some proper iced tea.”

With sudden eagerness, Belle went poking through the other bags, investigating each. “Does that mean you brought beef for hamburgers?”

“I might have,” Rumple admitted, taking one item from the largest grocery bundle and holding it out to her. “Though, I’m afraid that means whatever you had planned for dinner-”

“We’ll just have vegetable stew instead of fries,” Belle yelped with glee before leaning forward and kissing Rumple’s cheek. Now more youthful and full of life than when he’d seen her earlier, she jumped back as if the contact between them stung, then reached for one of the many jars behind her. “We even have pickles!”