Who We Are, Dearie

Windy Walks

Belle and Rumple gripped each others hand as they strolled down the streets of Storybrooke. Rumple was right, the wind in the air was blowing strong and chilly, but Belle didn't mind a bit as she was enjoying the beauty of the nature around her. 

Just as she'd hope all of the tree's leaves where falling off and different shades of brown, orange, red and yellow. 

"Are you okay, my love? Not getting too cold?" Rumple asked anxiously. 

Belle rose her chin up a little so her mouth appeared from where it had been tucked warmly in her scarf. 

"I'm okay," she smiled, Rumple had wrapped her up quite well.

Rumple squeezed her hand gladly and smiled, returning his gaze to in front of him.

"Aren't the colours so wonderful!" Belle was almost bursting with delight.

"Quite," Rumple nodded, not quite sure how is wife could be so entranced by leaves. 

A big gust of wind nearly knocked Belle over but of course Rumple was there to catch her so she didn't topple over. 

Rumple was just about to ask how she was again when he heard her muffled laughter from within her scarf.

"Im good, i'm good," she laughed, reading his mind and reply before he could ask.

Not wanting that to happen again and Belle hurt herself, Rumple pulled her closer and put a protective arm around her waist, Belle's own wrapping around him also. 

"Thank you," she smiled up at him.

He planted a quick kiss on the top of her head and the pair carried on their rather windy walk.

They'd been walking a while when Rumple realised Belle was actually leading the way and guiding him somewhere. 

"Where are we going, darling?" He asked. He knew Storybrooke well but was not familiar with this path.

"It's a surprise," Belle smiled to herself. 

"Belle..." rumple sighed, he hated surprises.

He liked to know exactly where he was going and what he was doing at all times. 

Belle knew this and rubbed her hand up and down his back a few times.

"Don't worry, would I ever take you somewhere horrible?" She smiled comfortingly. 

Rumple tried to give her a smile, but she could still see the anxiety in his eyes. 

She put herself even closer to him and hugged him tighter as they neared her desired destination. As they got closer, Rumple realised where they were. It was known as the Troll Bridge. They walked upwards to the middle of the bridge where Belle stopped and faced outwards. 

Why has she brought us here, Rumple thought?

But then he followed her gaze and his mouth gaped open with awe. 

In front of him was the river, gleaming from the reflection of the orange setting sky, tree's lining both sides of the river. It was breathtaking. The colours. Everything was so beautiful.

He felt eyes on him and looked down to see Belle beaming at him. She was pleased to his reaction. 

"Told you," she whispered, before placing her head on his shoulder and taking in the view for herself.

You sure did, Rumple thought to himself, but how does she do it? He wondered how she found these magnificent places, in little old Storybrooke? Places where he'd never even been before, or places that he had but never seen the beauty of before. But that was her magic. Belle could make anything beautiful. Hell, she made a place called the 'Troll' bridge so wonderful.