Chapter Text
It was a year to the day. Exactly a year since they had kissed in the centre of the carousel and Gold had suggested, only half-joking, that she ran away with him. Exactly a year spent wondering what would have happened if she had done so. Belle ran a finger over her lips and remembered.
“Come on, Belle! They’ve already started!”
Belle ran down the road after Ruby towards the field at the edge of the town, the usually empty expanse of muddy green already full of lorries and caravans. The fair only came to Storybrooke once a year. There were other travelling attractions that hired out the old field, but Belle, Ruby and Ashley were only ever interested in the fair; with its charming Victoriana splendour, it was like stepping into another world. And ever since they’d been old enough to run off without their parents, Belle and Ruby had been watching them set up the fair the day before it opened. Now adult, the excitement had not diminished, in fact, it seemed to have increased. Ashley didn’t like watching the setup – she said it spoiled the magic if she saw it all being bolted and welded together beforehand in a very twenty-first century way – but to Belle and Ruby it was fascinating. It was also a chance to catch up with Jefferson; once the fair began he’d be ‘in character’ and too busy working his ride to chat. The three had become friends a few years prior, and even though they only saw each other once a summer, Ruby and Belle could continue a conversation with Jefferson almost exactly where they left off twelve months previously.
The reached the makeshift hoardings barring the public from the fairground until the lamps were lit and the gates thrown open at dusk. Belle leaned on the railings and sighed, just drinking in the atmosphere, the sense of anticipation. She understood what Ashley meant; the fair didn’t look as impressive whilst being hauled off lorries in pieces, the tarpaulins flapping in the air and the winches whining under the strain. But once the fair was open, lit up with imitation gas lamps, and the people wore their beautiful costumes, Belle forgot that less that twenty-four hours before, the Whirling Teacups had been in bits and its operator, now clad in top hat and brocade, had been wearing oily overalls.
Said overall-wearing Whirling Teacups operator waved to them from where he was supervising his ride being unloaded at the centre of the field. Ruby and Belle waved back; Jefferson never changed. At length he came over to them.
“Good morning, ladies,” he said, doffing an imaginary cap. “How fair thee today?”
“Very well, thank you, kind sir,” Belle replied, dropping into a vague impression of a curtsey. It was their ritualistic greeting, and had been since Jefferson had first come to Storybrooke with the fair.
“So, Jeff…” Ruby began. She leaned up against the hoardings as much as she could to peer into the showground and take a good look round at the attractions that were filling the field this year. Although there were many mainstays that came every season – Jefferson being one of them – some of the entertainments came and went, only remaining with the fair for the lucrative summer months then moving on elsewhere.
“…Is there anything new this year?” Jefferson finished her sentence for her. “As a matter of fact, there is. Something that our dear Belle will be most interested in.”
Jefferson gave a conspiratorial grin, and Belle’s brow furrowed.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Hmmm.” Jefferson studied his grimy fingernails with complete disinterest. “Maybe I’ll make you wait until this evening for the grand unveiling,” he said.
“Jeff!” Belle and Ruby exclaimed in unison. “That’s not fair!”
“Ironic, since we’re in a fairground, no?” Jefferson cast a glance over his shoulder at the bustling field. “Come on, I’ll show you. Hop over.”
Ruby looked up at the seven-foot high hoarding, then down at her tight mini-skirt, and raised an eyebrow. Jefferson rolled his eyes.
"Surely, surely you’ve learned to wear suitable attire for climbing when you come to watch the setup.” He gave melodramatic sigh. “There’s a gap in the fence about ten yards thataway. See if you can squeeze through it and I’ll see you there.”
Belle and Ruby found the gap with ease – they wondered if Jefferson had left it there for them on purpose when setting up the hoardings – and they slipped through it. Their friend was waiting for them on the other side.
“Come on,” he said, beckoning for them to follow him, keeping to the edge of the showground and hiding behind the caravans. “You’ll love it, I swear.”
They came to a stop on the other side of the field, where a ride that had been obscured by a lorry was almost set up. Belle’s breath caught in her throat. It was a carousel, the most beautiful she’d seen in a long time, possibly ever. Whilst she loved everything about the fair, she had always felt a sense of disappointment that they had no carousel, the most quintessential part of any fairground in Belle’s eyes. Now, it seemed, they had rectified this omission, and it was wonderful, in brightly painted wood and brilliant gold metal, with what looked to be real leather saddles on the horses.
A man was standing at the centre of the carousel with his back to them, tinkering with the old fashioned controls, and he made no indication of having noticed their approach.
“Hey, Gold,” Jefferson called. “You all ready?”
“Hmmm.” The reply was non-committal, and Gold made no more sound for a long time before finally speaking. “Nearly. She still needs her music box syncing and a good polish, but she’s almost there. How’s your tea set?”
His voice was warm, the Scottish brogue wrapping Belle up like a hug. She’d always had a weakness for accents.
“Still stuck on the lorry,” Jefferson said cheerfully. “The winch broke, so Graham tried to drag it off with his four-by-four, but all that did was break his tow-bar. Emma’s gone to find a wrench to hit the winch with.”
Gold sighed and, without a word, held out a wrench from his tool-bag, which was sitting on the back of the horse next to him.
“Thanks, I knew you’d have one. Damn.” Jefferson sighed. “This means I have to go and do some actual work now. But before I go, is there any chance of a test run for a special guest of mine?”
“Jeff!” Belle hissed. Whilst Jefferson often sneaked them into the field during setup, they had always stayed hidden in the shadows, watching from afar and keeping out of sight of the fair owner, who was quick to pounce on trespassers.
“Well.”
The man called Gold finally turned and surveyed the two gatecrashers, leaning casually against one of the horses whilst he wiped his oily hands on a rag…
That moment had imprinted itself on Belle’s brain, and she could remember her first impression of him as clear as day even now, twelve months later. Dark hair fading to grey that fell to the collar of his overalls, the beginnings of grey stubble forming over his chin, and chocolate brown eyes that Belle had been immediately lost in. He had cast an appraising eye over both her and Ruby, knowing immediately that they were both outsiders, and despite Ruby’s tight leather miniskirt, his deep, dark eyes had lingered on Belle, and a faintest trace of a smile had twitched at the corner of his mouth.
“That does depend,” Gold said. He didn’t take his eyes from Belle. “It’ll cost you, dearie. All favours come at a price.”
Belle wondered how he knew she was the one who wanted a free ride. Then again, Ruby’s skirt wasn’t exactly suited to horseriding.
“What do you want?” Belle asked. “I’ve got two-sixty in change.”
“Oh I don’t want your pennies, dearie.” He smiled, half leer, and half genuine, schoolboy grin. “I’ll pick up enough of those this evening.”
“Erm… half a Mars bar?” Belle offered feebly. She didn’t have anything else with her. It wasn’t the end of the world, after all. She’d still be able to ride the carousel later, when it would be lit and even more impressive. But the novelty of being the first to test it out was thrumming in her veins. Gold raised an eyebrow.
“No thank you. How about, you owe me a favour, and I’ll collect at a time to suit me?”
Belle considered it for a moment, then stepped up onto the carousel and stuck out her hand.
“Deal.”
Gold looked down at her hand and waved his grimy ones.
“I won’t shake on it. Wouldn’t want to ruin your perfect little paws.”
Boldly, because this man intrigued her and caused something to flutter in the pit of her stomach, Belle grabbed his rag and scrunched it up between her fingers.
“There,” she said. “I’m as grubby as you, now.”
Gold laughed and shook her hand.
“Deal,” he said, then gestured to the nearest horse with a grand flourish. “Climb aboard, dear lady, for your noble steed awaits. Pick whichever takes your fancy. No, hang on.” He gave her a studious look, head on one side. “What’s your name?”
“Belle. Belle French.”
“Aha. In that case…” He moved off, making his way round the carousel. Belle noticed how he limped, using the horses for support as he moved. “Here. A fitting choice, I think.”
A pink horse, with gold detailing. In curlicued letters down its neck was written the name ‘Beauty’. Belle swung her leg over its back and settled herself on the saddle, clutching the pole in front of her. Gold had already disappeared off back to the centre of the carousel and the controls, and with a mechanical grinding, the ride whirred into life, gradually picking up speed until she was flying. She gave a little wave every time she passed Ruby, Jefferson and Gold, feeling like she was seven years old again and riding a carousel for the first time.
Gradually she slowed once more, and Gold was there, holding out a hand to help her off the horse.
“Obviously she’ll be more impressive with her lights and her music…” he began, but Belle cut him off.
“It was great,” she said. “I look forward to seeing her in all her glory.”
Gold bowed his head and released her hand. Belle hadn’t realised that they’d still been holding on, and she missed the calloused warmth.
“I look forward to seeing you again, Miss French.”
“Uh oh.” Jefferson’s voice cut through the moment. “I spy trouble in the form of the dragon. We’d best beat a hasty retreat.”
Reluctantly, Belle was forced to leave the carousel and its owner behind, and run with Ruby to the boundary before the fairground owner could catch them.
“Well,” Ruby said between pants to get her breath back. “You’ve got yourself an admirer there.”
Belle just raised an eyebrow.
“Ruby, you can’t honestly think…”
“Belle, he couldn’t take his eyes off you. And you’re not exactly uninterested either.”
Belle rolled her eyes, wishing she could do something about the flush that was rising in her cheeks. Hopefully her friend would put it down to their sudden sprint across the field…
She hadn’t. Ruby was annoyingly observant like that, always had been. She had teased Belle mercilessly all the way home. Belle sighed. She hadn’t believed in love at first sight until she’d met Gold, and even then, she’d denied it, fiercely squashing the emotion and attempting, however unsuccessfully, to put it in a box and sit on it until she forgot about it totally.
It had definitely not worked. The carousel and its owner had stayed on her mind all year. She knew from the moment she had first seen the ride in the twilight, lit up and shining, with music pouring out of hidden speakers, that it would remain with her for a long time. And then there had been Gold, clean-shaven in silk cravat and velvet frock coat, welcoming people aboard his carousel with that gentle theatricality and beguiling brogue, playing the part of the showman so easily.
She had known that she would not forget him in a hurry.
“Ah, Miss French. May I say how lovely you look this evening?”
He had spotted her immediately within the crowd of people gathered around the carousel and come over to her whilst the latest batch of riders busied themselves with picking their horses.
“Thank you, Mr Gold. You’re looking quite dapper yourself.” She paused. “Is Gold your first or last name?”
He laughed.
“Last. First half’s Raymond, but don’t tell anyone.” He paused. “Friends call me Rum.”
Belle gave a cheeky smile.
“Do I count as a friend?”
“I’d say so, Miss French. You were the first to test out the old girl after all.” His smile matched her own. “I’ve decided on my favour.”
“And what might that be, then?” Belle challenged.
“Not yet, Belle, not yet. Come back at midnight, then we’ll see.” He looked back at the carousel. “In the meantime… There’s still a pony left, if you want?”
“What will this one cost me?”
“On the house. Come on.”
He handed her over the low, twisted velvet rope that kept the spectators back from the edge of the ride and pulled her over towards it, a positive spring in his step in spite of the limp. Belle wanted to ask how he came by it, but she desisted. It wasn’t the sort of thing one asked after only knowing a person five minutes, even if that person did count you as a friend.
This horse was glossy ivory, decorated with silver and red curlicues, the name in fancy cursive reading ‘Snow White’. Belle sat side-saddle so as not to make her full skirt ride up, and let herself be carried away with the lights and the music and the motion, and watch out for Rum’s little smile as he caught her eye every time she whirled round him…
She’d returned to the ride at midnight, as promised, the rest of the fair closing down and going to bed around them. The carousel was still running, shining brightly in the night although there were no people riding it now, and the music had been switched off. Gold had been waiting for her in the centre, leaning on the pedestal.
“So…” Belle called to him. “Name your price.”
Rum merely grinned and slowed the carousel to half-speed, allowing her to clamber up onto it and cross the moving platform to get to him, stationary at the centre.
“A kiss,” he said. “One test ride, one kiss.”
Belle’s heart fluttered in her mouth.
“Knock yourself out,” she managed.
He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her cheek briefly before drawing back.
Belle raised an eyebrow at him.
“You call that a kiss?” she breathed.
“What do you call a kiss, then?”
She decided to throw caution to the wind. After all, if it all went wrong, she never had to see him again. Belle grabbed the front of his waistcoat – he’d abandoned the cravat somewhere – and pulled him in against her, pressing her lips to his. He stiffened a little in surprise, but then relaxed into the kiss, wrapping one arm around her and tangling his fingers in her hair.
Belle sighed against his mouth as she finally let him up for air.
“That’s what I call a kiss.”
Belle had returned to the carousel at midnight every night of the week the fair was in town, and she and Rum had learned practically everything there was to know about each other over those five days, talking till the small hours interspersed with kisses. But then the final night had come, and Belle knew it was to be their last. It was then that he had offered, half-serious, that she could come away with him, travel along with the fair. He’d show her how to work the carousel, how to maintain the machinery that was his livelihood, how to get along with the rest of the fair. Perhaps she could even carve her own niche, her own sideshow.
But Belle still had a year of university. She still had all her family and friends in Storybrooke. She still had her part time job. She couldn’t just drop everything and run off with a funfair, even if she was in love with the carousel man. She had tried to tell herself that it was just a summer crush, an infatuation.
It didn't stop her wanting to cry when she told him no.
“Never mind,” Rum said, although she could see that he was as disappointed as she was. “There’s always next year. I’ll need someone to test the old girl before I start hawking, after all.”
Belle looked up at the carousel, winding down in the moonlight.
“Don’t suppose there’s time for one last ride?” she asked sadly.
Rum smiled.
“There’s always time for one last ride,” he replied. “Hop on.”
She picked out Beauty, the horse that had come to be her favourite, and settled herself on her saddle. Rum cranked the speed up and watched her go round for a little while before he reached out and grabbed a hold of the pole as she whirled past him, pulling himself up alongside her to capture her lips in a final, desperate kiss...
That was the last time she’d seen him. They’d said their goodbyes on the moving carousel, and then he’d stepped over onto the centre to stop the ride, and vanished into the night.
Jefferson had walked her home as he did every night after the fair. It was no secret, what she had been doing when she stayed so late, but Jefferson had never brought it up in conversation, and neither had Belle. She’d forced herself to remain cheerful on the way home, not to betray that there was anything wrong. It was only once she was safely tucked up in bed that she had begun to cry at the thought of the path not taken.
But the pain had healed, in its way. It always would. She’d gone back to her friends at university, kept busy, kept all thoughts of the fair to the back of her mind as best she could.
Now though…
Now the fair was back in town, and everything was different to last time. University was done, she’d graduated and was stuck in a boring job that she hated. Her friends in Storybrooke were no longer the same tightly knit group they had been – Ruby had moved in with Archie, the boyfriend she’d met on her Psychology and Animal Behaviour degree, and Ashley and Sean were pregnant, for crying out loud. And Belle, well, Belle was still the same. Still stuck. Still here.
Still hopelessly in love with Rum Gold.
She hadn’t watched the setup this year. She hadn’t even been to the fair, and it was the last night. She hadn’t wanted to see him, see how he, like everyone else, had moved on with his life whilst she had been unable to go forward with hers. Especially as that had been the reason for her saying no.
Ruby kept relaying messages from Jefferson, who missed her something chronic. But still, Belle had held her ground.
Until tonight.
There was nothing keeping her in Storybrooke anymore. She’d moved out of the family home months ago, wanting to be independent. Her job, well, she was better off without it, if the levels of stress were anything to go by. And her friends, well, they would understand. Nothing holding her back, except her own fear of the unknown.
Belle looked at the small bag she had packed. She could always come back for more later if she wanted it. She could get Ruby to pack up her books and courier them to her. And Jefferson and her other friends from the fair would be there as well; she wouldn’t be alone in a crowd of strangers.
Do the brave thing, she told herself. Do the brave thing, and bravery will follow…
It was already nearly midnight when she reached the fairground, and many of the rides had powered down for the night, ready to be disassembled in the morning. Belle made her way over to the far corner and the lights of the carousel, still slowly turning in the darkness.
Rum was sitting on the steps in his red frock coat, polishing a bit of machinery from the control panel. He didn’t look up as she approached, her shoes squeaking on the damp grass.
“I’m sorry, you’re too late,” he said, and Belle felt the wondrous warmth of his brogue envelope her again. “The carousel’s closed.”
“There’s always time for one last ride.”
Rum’s head shot up to look at her, and his face was a picture of disbelieving astonishment.
“You told me that yourself,” Belle added.
He stood and limped over to her.
“Belle…” he breathed, reaching out to tentatively touch her shoulder, as if he couldn’t quite believe she was real.
“Hi,” she said sheepishly. “I’m back.”
“So I see. And you appear to have brought baggage,” he murmured, looking down at her holdall.
“Yeah, I, erm…” Belle was beginning to regret her spur of the moment decision. What if his offer no longer stood? What if he longer wanted her with him on the road, travelling with the fair? “I was wondering if I could hitch a lift.”
Rum smiled.
“Where are you going?”
“I don’t know. Where are you going?”
“Prospect Park, after here. Then on to the Heritage Fair.”
“I think I’ll go there too, then.” She paused. “I’m ready now,” she said. “I wasn’t ready before, but I am now. So if your offer’s still open…”
“It’s always been open, Belle. From the moment you said no, I’ve kept hoping you’d change your mind.”
“In that case, I’d very much like to run away and join the fair with you.”
Rum answered her with a kiss.
“Welcome to the carousel, Belle French.”