Our favourite princess, Belle, is ten years old now. Rumplestiltskin, her intended, is eleven. It just so happened that a few days ago, Rumplestiltskin and his Mama had arrived in Avonlea for Belle’s celebratory birthday ball.
Belle had worn an elaborately decorated golden dress. Rumplestiltskin’s jaw had dropped upon seeing her, and that had made her giggle. His own outfit had golden accents. They had spent the night dancing together, and with their friends and other guests as well.
But that had been two whole days ago. Rumplestiltskin remained in Avonlea alongside his mother, and would stay for another few days. “Rumple!” Belle called to her betrothed, her eyes lighting up as she settled on him. “Let’s play pretend,” she suggested.
Belle was wearing another beautiful dress now. It was much more simple than her birthday dress, though, with rich green fabric, with white puffy sleeves and dark golden lining. Rumplestiltskin, on the other hand, wore a loose, green shirt and brown pants.
“Pretend what?” Rumplestiltskin agreed good naturedly, placing his book to the side as he looked up at Belle trustingly. He always enjoyed playing pretend with Belle, for her imagination was wild with wired potential.
“That we’ve just been married,” Belle decided after a pause. “And we’re having our ball!” Her eyes gleamed with excitement. “We can dance as we’d done the other night.” she explained.
“Okay,” Rumple said with a grin. “That means you are now my own little wife, right?” he asked curiously.
“And you are my big, strong husband.” she agreed with a silvery laugh. “Come, I will sing if you will hum.” she suggested.
Rumplestiltskin grinned, nodding as he began to hum.
“I love to dance, dilly dilly, I love to sing…” Belle started a nursery rhyme. “When I am queen, you’ll be my king. Who told me so, dilly dilly? Who told me so?” her voice carried out through the room. “I told myself, dilly dilly. I told me so.”
“No wait, Belle! You’ve started with the ending.” he laughed not unkindly. “Here, let me.” and he waited for her to begin to hum before he sung, “Lavender's blue, lavender's green, dilly dilly. When I am king, dilly dilly, you shall be queen. Who told you so? Who told you so? Twas my own heart, that told me so.”
“Call up your men, dilly dilly...” Belle continued. “Set them to work. Some to the plow, dilly dilly some to the fork. Some to make hay, dilly dilly, some to cut corn. While you and I, dilly dilly, keep ourselves warm.”
“Lavender’s green, dilly, dilly, lavender’s blue… If you love me, dilly dilly, then I will love you.” Rumplestiltskin kept on. “Let the birds sing, dilly dilly, and the lambs play. We shall be safe, dilly dilly, out of harm’s way.”
Then he nudged her. “Now you can sing it.” he grinned.
“I love to dance,” Belle belted out with a little laugh. “I love to sing. When I am queen, dilly dilly, you shall be my king. Who told me so, dilly dilly, who told me so? I told myself so, dilly dilly, I told me so.” Her eyes were soft as she looked up at Rumplestiltskin, happiness in the blue orbs.
They had been dancing spiritedly while singing, and now they drew apart, laughing still.
“Thank you for indulging me, Rumple.” Belle said softly, eyes still full of happiness.
“My pleasure, little wife.” he teased her back.