It took almost 8 months, but I finally finished it. We've come to the last chapter, folks. Thank you to all of you who have followed this story from the beginning, and to those of you who have just joined. Your reviews and feedback have made writing this an absolute pleasure. I hope you all have enjoyed reading this as much as I have enjoyed writing it.

Will not start another multi-chapter Rumbelle fic right away. I have some ideas for one-shots (smutty and angsty) that I would like to do, but am planning to write a Rumbelle fic inspired by "The Vow." And if you have any ideas or prompts for me, feel free to send them my way!

Once again, thank you for taking the time to read my story. It means the world to me. Have a great day, dearies!

He transported them to where they both felt safe, where they most wanted to be while in each other's arms - in front of the fireplace.

The dining room was dark and cold; the last traces of magic that he had manipulated in celebration of them had disappeared long ago.

Dancing with her in his arms seemed now like another lifetime. She had been so warm, so soothing, so beautiful. And now she was cold, pale and injured. And it was because of him and his wretched curse.

He laid her down on a makeshift bed made of pillows and blankets. The fire flared to life with a flourish of his fingers. The firelight danced across her dirt-streaked skin as he brushed back tendrils of her hair from her face.

He checked on her wound, and his stomach churned with panic as he saw that she was still losing blood. The stain on her dress kept spreading, and her pulse was becoming weaker and weaker.

She was dying.

He laid a hand over her wound, trying to apply pressure. His gold skin was soon covered in red.

He had to heal her.

He hovered his blood-stained hand over her wound and felt subtle magic flow from his hand and into her body, searching for ways to undo his evil.

But it didn't work. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how much magic he supplied, the colour didn't return to her face, and her eyes didn't open.

Why wasn't it working?

"You didn't honestly think the Queen handed you an ordinary dagger?" The Dark One said, none of the usual smugness present in his voice.

The flow of magic suddenly halted, as Rum registered his words.

"What?"

"You can't undo this, Rumpelstiltskin. That dagger was crafted from magic fuelled by malice and hatred. Ordinary magic won't save her."

Rum slowly withdrew his hand, his voice weak as he spoke. "So that's it? I just let her die?"

The Dark One said nothing. The Dark One comforted no one.

"She can't die," he whispered, the lump in his throat making it hard to speak.

He repositioned her so that her head was resting in his lap. He had to be close to her. He couldn't let her go, not now.

He held her hand gently in his, their fingers entwining as he lowered his head to rest against her forehead. His warm breath touched her cold skin as he spoke to her, hoping she could hear him.

"Don't leave me… don't leave me… I need you, Belle… I need you…"

Past memories and dreams drifted behind his closed eyes. How she had walked with her head held high as he had taken her from her home, the smile on her face when he had given her the garden, how he had held her close when she had returned to him, how beautiful she had looked in her golden dress, how she had tried to kiss him, how she had tried to save him…

And he now knew exactly why he needed her. Because she was all he had. He was never alone or unhappy with her. She made living easier and worthwhile. She made him a better man. She made him whole.

And that's why she couldn't leave him. She just couldn't!

"Please Belle…" he whispered, drawing her hand up to gently kiss her knuckles.

"I love you…"

And as if his declaration meant nothing to her, as if it wasn't reason enough to keep fighting, her lips parted ever so slightly to release one last sigh of life, before stilling completely, her heart giving in to the strain of living, her soul choosing to leave him.

He dropped her hand and began frantically searching her throat for the weak throb of her still-beating heart.

Nothing.

The Dark One said nothing. He too had lost something he cared about, however grotesque his feelings towards her were.

Tears welled in his eyes and quickly spilled over, dripping onto her cheeks and lips. He cradled her head between his hands, his head lowered in defeat. Sobs racked through his body as he held his dead love in his arms.

"Come back to me, Belle. I'm nothing without you."

Nothing.

His lips continued to move in silent pleas, begging her to return to him. But she didn't hear him. So she didn't come back.

Dawn appeared beyond the horizon, the sun's rays pouring in through the windows, promising another day - a day without the woman he loved by his side.

He sobbed over the empty shell of his lover, regret poisoning him from the inside. He realized with sorrow that he never got to feel her rosy lips against his, her breath on his tongue. He could only imagine what it would've been like, how it would've made his heart soar.

And in an attempt to recreate what might have been, how liberated he would have felt had he just been brave enough to try, he angled her head and placed a soft, mournful kiss on her lips.

And when The Dark One finally realized what was happening, it was too late to stop it. It was too late to undo it. For this was no ordinary magic.

As Rum felt her cold, still lips against his, he heard a terrified scream rip through his mind. The Dark One was dying.

Rum felt the hidden essence of light that had been buried deep within his soul swallow The Dark One whole, drowning his screams of agony. And as he disappeared, Rum felt an overwhelming calm fall over him, soothing the wounds that had been inflicted throughout the years of being in Darkness' service.

And suddenly he felt Belle's lips move beneath his, caressing his lovingly.

He pulled back abruptly to see azure blue eyes gazing up at him.

"Belle?" he said incredulously.

The colour had returned to her skin, her eyes were bright and alert, and she was smiling.

"You did it," she said, smiling brilliantly up at him. "You broke the curse."

And as her words registered, he held up one of his hands and gasped to see his usual sickly green hue had disappeared. He was an ordinary man again. And for once it didn't feel like a sentence, but a relief.

"How?" he asked, still not fully comprehending what had just happened.

"True Love's Kiss can break any curse," she said, running her fingers through his now softer hair.

True Love – the most powerful magic of all. And it was the definition of unordinary magic. True Love broke curses. And maybe it even broke Belle's curse of an untimely death.

"Oh, Belle…" he whispered before his lips came crashing down on hers, feverishly making up for lost time and missed opportunities. He relished in the feeling of her urgent lips, the taste of her tongue, the nipping of her teeth.

Their hands wound in each other's hair, wishing to be even closer, and never wanting to let go.

"I love you," she said softly against his lips.

"I love you more," he countered, ending the kiss only to envelope her in his arms, and swearing to himself, the Gods and whoever would listen that he would never let her go.

A few months had passed since the curse had been broken, and they had both become accustomed to Rum's change.

Belle could see it in every movement and hear it in every word he spoke, that he was happier. He held her as often as he could, and touched her even more. He would creep up behind her and shower her neck with kisses, his human hands encircling her waist, pulling her close.

But it had been hard. Her heart still ached at the remembrance of when Rum had found out that his magic had disappeared for good.

He had been hoping that maybe the curse would've left him with some form of magic still coursing through his fingertips. And she'd held him as he had quietly cried at the realization that he had lost the only way he'd had at finding his son.

They still lived in The Dark Castle, but it no longer housed powerful magic. Rum's books and potions were still upstairs in his study, but he never ventured up there, knowing he couldn't put any of it to good use.

Magic had been such a big part of him, and it broke her heart to see him mourn the loss of what he thought made him who he was. All she could do was whisper words of comfort in his ear, telling him how beautiful he was to her, even without magic.

And because of this her garden had disappeared, and he could no longer spin straw into gold.

But she had reminded him that there were other ways at recovering that which one had lost. There were people who still harnessed magic that he could ask for help.

Not that it had all been bad.

They had made love almost every night, and sometimes in the light of day, her body bent over the dining room table or pressed up against a wall. They were making up for lost time, and she cherished every time he would moan her name in pleasure, voicing his love and lust for her over and over and over again.

She loved the feel of his soft skin beneath her fingertips, or his rough stubble that grazed against her cheek as he hugged her. He may think himself less now that he was no longer powerful, but she had never loved him more.

The gold band around her ring finger was a symbol of this love.

It had been a small wedding, and she had invited her father, who hadn't recognized the man her daughter had promised eternity to. And she hadn't told him. They had fabricated a story about him finding her in the woods after a successful escape from the beast that was Rumpelstiltskin. It was better that way.

And now he held her in his arms, one hand entwined in his while the other rested on the small of her back, as he swayed them back and forth in time with the song he was humming. She rested her head on his chest, and he had his chin on top of her head, just like they had danced all those months ago. She felt him kiss the top of her head affectionately. She closed her eyes and imagined they were in their ballroom, and if she concentrated enough, she could even feel the silk of her gold dress against her skin, swirling around her legs.