#cymar

    He continued on, watching as the sun started to dip in the sky and was about to turn back, when the snap of a branch caught his attention. He stood up straight, ears and eyes straining for the source of the sound. When no animal or person presented itself, he clutched the wood closer to him and spun to hurry home. But somewhere in gathering the firewood, he got turned around and he wasn't sure which of the paths in front of him led the way back to the village and to Bae.

He could feel his heart start to quicken in his chest, his constant desire to flee heating his blood and clouding his mind. He took a deep breath, and made the decision to take the left path. Only about a hundred feet in he realized it was the wrong one, the trees not the ones he remembered. The trees were older here. Taller and thick with centuries of growth. But something kept him going.

But as he walked, the feeling they gave him calmed his pounding heart. And he was too busy admiring them to notice that the path behind him disappeared. He looked up to see the canopy of the trees had woven together and became a tunnel.

The tunnel let out into a clearing with the golden-pink light of the setting sun flooding it. In the middle was what seemed to Rumple to be a stone altar. One end was raised and there was warm looking furs covering it so it looked like a chaises. On it, basking in the setting sunlight, was the most beautiful woman Rumple had ever seen. Her brown hair shone with red highlight. She wore a chiton of almost translucent silk of the palest blue. It was draped around her and was pinned together over her shoulders with clasps with a full moon design, and scattered around her were the white and yellow petals of the plumeria tree. Their perfume filled the air and his head.

He must have gasped as she suddenly opened her eyes and they were the bluest color he had ever scene. He didn't know how long they stared at each other, to him it felt like an eternity as he felt like he was falling into her eyes, as if the broken and cracked pieces of his soul were being filled in and nothing would be wrong ever again,  but as her face took on a startled look and she jumped up, he assumed it was only seconds. She scrambled off the altar and ran to the trees.

Rumple blinked trying to figure out what he just saw. He must have missed the moment that she passed into the forest because he couldn’t have seen her disappear into the tree. He shook his head and headed back to the village.

Bae was waiting for him, wondering why he was so late. Rumple only told him that he got turned around in the forest. He didn’t tell his son about the strange woman, for some reason it felt wrong to mention her. And he didn’t want Bae to think his father was losing his mind with tales of pretty woman in the forest. He put the wood away and after fixing a small supper, they readied their supplies for the morning. Their first Market day in their new home.

In the morning, they woke early and made their way to the spot where they intended to set up their stall. It didn’t take long for them to get ready. Rumple put the raw wool that had been prepped to be spun near at hand and made sure that Bae was alright manning the front of the stall, ready to help on customers they might get.

He started spinning, letting his mind wander while keeping a ear out for any trouble. He hopped that since no one knew them here, they might be able to sell all the thread and yarn they had left over from before they moved. That this new town would be a better environment for his son. That without his reputation as a coward, Bae could have a good life. He felt a twist in his gut as he also thought that without Milah, they might be happy finally. He was barely aware of time passing as he worked, but as he reached for the next bundle of wool, his hand came up empty and looked to see that he had finished all they had brought.

Standing, he stretched his back and grabbed his walking stick. He saw that Bae was having fun trying to cajole an older woman into buying a fourth spool of thread in a dull pumpkin orange-yellow they had never been able to sell back home. He watched his son, his heart singing at the happy smile on the boys face. He turned to look out over the crowds and blinked as he thought he saw a strand of red thread leading out of their stall and down the road into the forest. The trees waved in the windless day and when he blinked, the thread was gone. He shook his head, think he was seeing things from spinning too long. He nodded to Bae and took a walk through crowd.

Later that night as they were packing up, he took inventory of what they sold and was surprised to see that it was more than a full month of Market days back home, the money actually ‘clinked’ in their pockets as they walked home. Because of their good fortune, he stopped at the butcher's stall and bought a steak for them to share. That night they went to sleep with full bellies and rested peacefully under the moonlight of the first crescent moon.

The next few weeks were full of preparing for the next Market day. The sheep they had brought with them were ready for shearing and both he and Bae were busy preparing the wool. Because of that, they usually fell into their beds and fell right asleep, but that night Rum couldn’t sleep. He was exhausted, but no matter how he twisted and turned, sleep wouldn’t come to him.

Not wanting to wake his son, he stood and left the cottage. The air was cool in a way that felt good and he started walking. He wasn’t paying attention to where he was going and some part of him wasn’t surprised when he found himself in the old part of the forest. He took the left path and slowed his gait when he was just outside the clearing. His feet seemed loud to him as he crushed dried leaves, but it was nothing to the sounds coming from the clearing.

The full moon light the space like it was day. The altar was still there and the woman was upon it again. She was leaning back,  braced on her left hand. Her dark hair fell in a sheet of silk behind her. Her eyelids flutter and her mouth moved with words he couldn’t hear, but they were interspersed with gasps. The gasps were due, he was sure, by the fact that her skirt was pulled up and her hand moved frantically between her legs. He found his feet moving him closer.

“Oh, Badra!” the woman gasped, “Your Amaris, your children of the moon, on the night of Parvani, when you messenger in the sky is full, we honor you with our bodies, just as you honor us with the deep and pleasurable fulfillment that lets us touch stars for a moment of life and death"

Rumple swallowed deeply as he was now close enough to see the dark patch of hair her fingers glided through. They glistened in the light of the moon and he found himself licking his lips with the need to taste it. With another step he was next to the altar and the woman’s hands halted as her shocked face turned towards him. They looked at each other for a moment, a moment that stretched until the stars died and were reborn, before she titled her head and held out the hand that had been between her legs.

He let his staff drop as he cupped her wrist and wrapped his lips around her fingers. He moaned, a sound that reverberated from deep in his chest, a sound he had never heard come from his before. The flavor that exploded on his tongue was the best thing he had ever tasted. The sweetness and scent filling his mouth and nose. It was as if he was drinking the honey from the plumeria tree. He groaned and fell to his knees at the foot of the altar. He met her eyes and when he nodded, he reached up and grasped her hips, pulling her closer to the edge and placing his face between her legs.

His eyes rolled back in his head as the heavenly scent overwhelmed him. His nose pressed forward until it parted her folds and he brought his nose, now covered in her juices, up to rub on her clit. His tongue darted out to lap up the nectar spilling out of her. Her hands clench in his hair. She tugged and pulled and called out.

“Oh, Badra! Please accept this offering of pleasure! Give your grace to all those who serve YOU!”

The last word was shouted as she started to shudder around him and bucked up into his face. His hands held her still as he continued to lick and suck her most private place.

“Badra!” she called, “Oh, Brada! Most high goddess of the moon and children! OH! BadRA!” She came on his tongue again and slumped down on the altar as her body trembled in aftershocks. Rumple sat up, and watched as she panted in lassitude. She smiled at him and held out her hand again. He took it was let her pull him over to her where she reached up and wiped her juices off his face and sucked it off her fingers. She tilted her head towards the moon and smirked at him,

“Oh, Badra! Goddess of the night and all that happens in it, will you accept this offering tonight?” She said as she reached out for fastening of his pants. He blinked and before he knew it, she had them down around his ankles and was caressing his length. He hadn’t ever realized he was hard until the cool night air hit his heated skin. He only had one more second to prepare as her head descended and she took him in her mouth to the root!

“Oh!” he called, his head falling back so that it was exposed to the moonlight. “Oh!” His hands came up and tangled in her hair as she sucked and bobbed on his cock. He continued to gasps and moan as he could feel the heat of his approaching orgasm filling his body. He could feel it building, that overwhelming feeling of pure pleasure that he hadn’t felt with someone else since before Bae was born. The few times he had taken himself in hand after he had come back from the Ogres War had left him feeling empty and worthless, so he didn’t continue after that, just pushed that need down where all the others he put aside were.

But it was back now as he felt his balls tighten and his hands clenched in her hair as he pulled her forward and thrust all the way forward. He had a brief thought that he was probably hurting her, but that was lost as the pleasure overwhelmed him. He could feel every spurt of his come shooting out of him into her mouth as his eyes rolled all the way back and her throat worked to swallow every drop he had given her.

As his strength left him, she pulled him onto the altar with her and they lie face to face. He brought his hand up to cup her face, his eyes searching hers. She smiled at him before he could say anything and put her finger on his lips to keep him from speaking.

“Belle,” she said with a smile. He nodded and tried to fight as his eyes started to close. “Sleep,” she whispered, reaching up to help close his eyes.

When he opened them again, it was when the morning light streamed in the window of the cottage onto the head of his bed. He blinked against the light and rolled over. He was about to fall asleep again, when he remembered and sat up! He tentatively brought his hand up to his nose, but when he didn’t smell any scent on it, he fell back onto the bed. It was a dream. It had to be. There was no way a beautiful woman like that, like Belle, would let him do those things to her and she wouldn’t do them to him either.

It was a dream.

He laid in bed for longer then he should as he tried not to consider why the fact that it was a dream made a pit form in his stomach. He laid there until Bae called for him and he put it out of his mind.

As much as he tried, he *couldn’t* put out of his mind. Every moment he wasn't engaged in some other task, his mind wandered back to the clearing and the woman there. Who was she? Did he really see her merge with the tree? What was her name? Belle was a truly fitting name and he could see why his mind chose it, but he wanted to find out for real.

As the days passed, the villagers started preparing for a festival. On another market day Rumple watched Bae bounce from stall to stall seeing all the things the villagers were making for the festival.

“What festival is this?” Rumplestiltskin asked the woman who had walked up to his stall. She was gray haired and wore half-moon spectacles. She ran the inn with her Granddaughter. Rumple didn’t know her name as everyone in the village called her Granny.

“It's the festival of Badra,” she told him, looking confused for a moment.

“Badra?” he whispered, his heart skipping a little at the word. That was the name ‘Belle’ kept saying in his dream. He thought his mind had a made it up!

“I forgot that you and your son are new to our village,” she told him. “Badra is our patron goddess. She resides in the moon and watches over the village making sure we..” she trailed off and grinned at him, ”That we multiply, if you get my meaning!” She chortled as his eyes went wide, looking around to make sure Bae wasn’t near. “Don’t worry,” she told him, “Your boy is over by the blacksmiths.”

Rum look to see that she was right. Bae was leaning into the stall was the blacksmith pounded a piece of metal into...something.

“Anyway,” Granny went on, “The festival goes all day and after the sun goes down, a bonfire is lit in the square. After the little ones are sent to bed, the adults dance to honor Badra. As the dance goes on, couples ask Badra to bless them for a ‘productive’ night. Most matches made that night are very successful. I met my husband at a dance.” She sighed and her eyes unfocused as she remembers, then she shook her head, “If Badra approves, the bonfire will shoot up higher into the sky. If the dance really pleases her, she might send one of her children to dance with us.”

“One...one of her...children?” Rum asks. Belle had said that too, that she was a child of Badra.

Granny nods.

“It hasn’t happened since before I was born,” she tells him. “But I want to see you at that dance! You need a good woman and I’m sure Badra will bless you with one!”

Rum could feel his cheeks heating at her words. He ducked his head and changed the subject by offering her some of his best red thread for her granddaughters cloak.

That night as he lay in his cot, he felt that restless feeling in his body. Time and time again, he stood up and paced around the cottage and kept finding himself opening the door and looking at the sky. The moon was nearly full, just two more days until the full moon and the festival of Badra. He looked towards the forest as the scent of plumeria blooms wafted to him. His heart started to beat faster and his body reacted by hardening in his trousers. He tightened his grip on his walking stick and closed the door.

He returned to his bed, undressing, slipped under the sheet, and closed his eyes. He didn’t know how his mind added the village’s patron goddess to his dream. He probably heard it at some time and didn’t realize it. But as he closed his eyes, the woman’s, Belle’s, image was before him.

He didn’t think he had already fallen asleep, but apparently he had as she stood in the moonlight. He sat up in the bed and without his telling it, his hand reached out to her. She smiled shyly and took it, sliding into the bed with him.

“I missed you,” she whispered, caressing his cheek. “You were gone so long.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, leaning into her hand his eyes half closing as the perfume of the plumeria petals woven in her hair overwhelmed him. “I didn’t know you were waiting. I missed you too. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“And I, you,” she told him, a smile on her lips. She opened them to say something else, but he didn’t let her. His mouth pressed against hers and they both moaned into the kiss. His lips moved against her slowly before taking her bottom lip in and sucking on it.

“Belle,” he sighed, kissing his way down her neck, then back up again.

“Yes, Cymar,” Belle said, her hands trailing down his chest and pulling up the hem of his nightshirt. One of her hands rested on his hip, while the other moved to cup his still hard length. He hissed and bit down on her neck. She gasped and giggled. “Is that what you like, Cymar?” she asked. “I like it. I want you to mark me. Let the world know that I am yours, like you are mine.” She squeezed his cock. “Touch me, Cymar,” she whispered, “Touch me like I’m touching you.” She started stroking his cock.

It was with trembling hands that he reached for her and pulled up the silk gown she was wearing. It slid through his fingers like water, but it was rough paper compared to her skin. He placed his hand on her cheek and gently lowered it until he was cupping her between her legs. She moaned and arched into his hold, squeezing him tighter.

“Cymar,” she sighed. She was already so wet and warm that his fingers slipped right into her passage. “Yes,” she groaned. He groaned with her as his hand pleasured her. “Cymar, Cymar,” she called over and over again as his fingers moved in her, his palm pressing against the nub over her entrance. “Cymar!”

“Rumpelstiltskin,” he gasped. “My name is Rumpelstiltskin.”

Her eyes opened and she looked at him. And as the first time their eyes met, he fell into them. Everything that hurt, stopped, and everything that was missing was found. The feeling of being home filled him and he kissed her. “Belle.”

“My Rumpelstiltskin,” she said, “My Cymar,”

Their hands were still moving and they were reaching their peaks. He started to crook his fingers, trying to find that place inside her he’d heard made this act ever better. He was determined to let her find her pleasure before he found his. When she arched and bucked into his hand, crying out, he knew he found it.

“Come for me, Belle,” he whispered to her, kissing her face all over. Her eyelids, her cheeks and the tip of her nose. “Come for me, Sweetheart. I want to hear it again.”

She was gasping, her grip on his slacking as he pleasured her.

“Oh, oh, oh! Rumpelstiltskin! Cymar!” she groaned, “Yes! Rumple-” she cut off as she let out a yell, her passage clamping down on his fingers, as she bucked and trembled against him. “Cymar!

He held her as she collapsed against him, running one hand up and down her back as he brought the other one up to his mouth and licked it clean. After that he continued to kiss whatever he could reach until she looked up and smirked at him.

“Your turn,Cymar,” she said as her hand started moving on him again. “Let me make you feel just as good, my Cymar.”

“What does-” He stopped speaking as she did something with her hand that had him seeing stars. “Ah!” he gasped out, arching up into her hand. “What-What does Cymar mean?”

She used her other hand to push him flat and then took one of his and pressed it to her chest so that he could feel the beating of her heart. She then placed her’s in the same place on his.

“Cymar is you. Cymar is me. Cymar is the two of us entwined. Our hearts beating for each other and our souls mated. Cymar is us.”

“Oh? Oh!” he said as he understood her meaning.

Soulmates.

They were soulmates. He reached up with his free hand and pulled her down into a deep kiss. The idea of someone whose soul was a perfect match for his was a balm for his broken soul. Too many people in his life told him he wasn’t good enough for them. Everyone he cared about left him, found him wanting. He dreaded the day when Bae came to the same realization that, even if this was just a dream, Belle was his perfect mate made him hungry for her.

He kissed her and let his hips buck up to meet her hand, letting the pleasure she was bringing him overwhelm him.

“Belle!” he gasped, breaking the kiss as his orgasm neared. “Belle!”

“That’s it, my Rumple,” she whispered into his ear. “Show me that you enjoy my touch. Show me your pleasure!”

He did, coming with her words, back arching, neck tight as he threw his head back as his hips shuddered. He could feel each and every spurt of his seed as it erupted out of him. As he slumped back on the bed, he watched with half lidded eyes as she cleaned off her hand the way he did his. He groaned and then gave a chuckle as his softened cock tried to give a twitch. She smiled at him, and kissed him softly. They wrapped their arms around each other, trading kisses as sleep took him.

In the morning, he awoke alone, in the clothes he had worn before he had gone to bed the first time. He sat up, blinking at the early morning sun just starting to come in the window. The space next to him was as cold as it usually was and as he turned, he saw Bae sitting up in his bed as well.

“Did you have a bad dream, Papa?” his son asked, “You were making a lot of noise last night.”

“No, Bae,” he told him. “I didn’t have a bad dream.”

It was a good dream. One of the best he’d ever had. Too bad it was only a dream and only would ever be one.

The next few days passed quickly as the village prepared for the festival. The events started with the town leaders giving gifts to the parents of the children born from the festival last year and adding the children’s names to the village census. After that, the air was filled with the sounds of celebrations, the scent of food and the feeling that something special was happening.

Rumple sat at his stall, grinning at Bae each time he came back to show something he bought. He was proud that they were doing well enough in this new home they were making to be able to give Bae all the pocket money he wanted. Rumple was surprised that the thread he made for the day sold out so quickly, his yellow and blue going the fastest, and it wasn’t even noon yet when he closed up and joined Bae in walking around the crowds. As they passed, people would nod and smile and for the first time in his life, he felt like he belonged.  

He had wondered how the entire town would have the children to bed before the dancing started, but he found out it was a clever plan of sheer exhaustion. In the last afternoon light, a smaller dance for the children was held, the parents standing around, smiling and smirking at the matches their little ones made. The parents of the older children moving closer to talk over possible arrangements. The young ones started to drop off as the sun set and were carried off to be watched by older siblings who weren’t old enough to attend the dance.

Once the sun was down, the leaders lit the bonfire and the couples who had married since the last festival started the dancing. Rumple watched from where he was sitting with those who had lost their spouses and weren’t looking for another. Granny gave him a look as he sat beside her, but he ignored it. He was good at ignoring the stares of others, but this look was different, it had caring behind it and that filled his chest with a warmth he didn’t know what to do with, even as his cheeks started to heat.

He watched as the couples would approach the fire and say a few word before tossing in a leaf from a basket nearby. For some, the just burned, but for a few, the fire blazed up, higher than the highest building in the village. When that happened, everyone applauded the couple, who would look at each other and giggle. As one couple walked up, Rumple could feel all who watched tense. The man was tall and thin with hair so blonde it nearly matched his pale complexion.

His wife had blond hair also, but her was more of a honey blonde that went will with tan skin. The man reached out to squeeze his wife’s hand and held it before they both tossed a leaf into the fire.  The whole village seemed to hold it’s breath until the fire roared and shot up higher then for any other couple. Everyone jumped and cheered, swarming up to them to congratulate them.  

“It’s about time!” Ruby, Granny’s granddaughter, said as she came to deliver a drink to her grandmother. “William and Elizabeth have wanted a child for such a long time!”

After that the dancing seemed to turn frenzied as the music turned fast. Couples dance, changed partners, broke apart and danced alone or grabbed more people and danced in groups. Men danced in a circle around women, women danced around men. Women danced with women and men with men. No type of partner seemed off limits as the young people of the village enjoined the one night they had of complete freedom.

Rumple sat watching, eyes wide, until he noticed it was only the young adults. The older ones or the ones who were happily married, were off to the sides and when the fast beat of the music stopped, the dancers dropped and moved to the other side of the square. When the music started again, it was softer and the couple nearer to rumple started to drift out to the dancing area. The couples held each other tenderly, swaying and talking. They traded kisses and let their nose rub together.

Watching them made Rumple’s heart ache. This is what he wanted with someone. What he had originally hoped he and Milah could have. But that was not in the stars for him. He knew he was destined to alone for the rest of his life. In that moment he wished for Belle. He knew she was only a figment of his dreaming mind, but he wanted her with his whole heart. He breathed in deeply and whispered her name, “Belle”

It was also at that moment that the fire burst up nearly to the heavens. The couples jumped away and when the fire returned to norman, a woman was standing there. She was wearing a chiton of almost translucent silk of the palest blue. It was draped around her and was pinned together over her shoulders with clasps with a full moon design, and scattered around her feet were the white and yellow petals of the plumeria tree.

“An Amaris!,” someone gasped. “A child of Badra,” another whispered. One of the village leaders approached her, saying that she honored the village by her presents, but she ignored him, stepping forward a few steps. Rumple found himself once again standing and walking towards her.

“Belle,” he breathed out, but it echoed in the square. “You’re real?”

“My Rumple,” she smiled, reaching for him, “My Cymar,” She took his hand and before he knew it, they were swaying to music that he was sure was not being played. “I’m so happy you called for me,” she told him.

“I can’t believe you are real,” he sighed, “I thought I dreamed you up. But I’m so glad I didn’t. I love you.”

“Of course you do,” she giggled at him, “We are Cymar.”

“Cymar,” he breaths out and then leans in to kiss her. “Marry me?” he asked.

Before she could answer, the fire blazed up again.

She nodded, a smile so bright it no longer seemed like night time on her face. She reached up to caress the side of his face. Then she took his hand and turned towards the crowds.

“Badra is very pleased with your village for your continued honoring of her and she will continue to bless your village for years to come!” The people cheered and started to dance again as Belle pulled Rumple away towards the forest.

She laced their hands together as she guided him into the trees. They quickly come to the clearing when Rumple first saw her many months ago. In the space that had held the altar now there was a soft looking mattress on the ground. They stopped next to it and Rumple cupped her face as he leaned over to kiss her. He let his hands move as they kissed to the clasps holding her dress up. With a flick of his thumbs, the silk flowed to the ground. He stepped back to look at her.

“Beautiful,” he said, taking in her. She smiled and raised her hands.

“My turn,” she told him as she pulled up the hem of his shirt and tugged it over his head. She let her hands caress his chest as they traveled back down to the stays of his pants. She looked up from the top of her eyes, a smirk on her lips as she pulled then open. His pants dropped and he stepped out of them. Once they were both naked, they fell into each other’s arms, kissing and touching whatever skin they could reach.

Rum wasn’t sure when they moved to the bed, but as he lay on his back, Belle straddling him, it didn’t really matter. She was even more beautiful bathed in the moonlight. And as she lifted up on her knees and guided his length to her opening, he thought no memory would ever be more cherished. She slowly sank down on him, their hands entwined to give her something to brace on as she started to rise and fall on his cock.

“Belle,” he sighed, the feeling of being inside her more than he ever thought it would be. He fit inside her like she was made for him, and he was made for her. Maybe they were? They were Cymar. Soulmates. He watched as she rode him, her breast bouncing with every down thrust, gasps leaving her mouth as she pleasured herself on his cock.

“Rumple!” she called, leaning forward to change the angle of him inside her, letting his cock rub against a place inside that had her seeing stars. “Oh! Rumple! My Rumple!”

He leaned up and wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her deeply before moving to suck on her breast.

“Badra!” Belle called out as she rode him, her head thrown back. “Watch over your child and bless the union she talks part in! Grant her and her Cymar your grace in their future together. Bless US!”

The last word was gasped out as Rumple could feel her nearing her orgasm and leaned back and started to thrust up into her. Wanting to feel her clamp down on him as she came, he reached between them and rubbed her clit until she was shouting with each of their thrusts.

“Rumple!” she called, “Rumple! Oh, my Rumple! My husBAND!”

She came with the last word, shuddering in his hold as her walls fluttered around him, squeezing him enough that he found his pleasure and came as well, filling her with his seed.

They fell back on the bed, panting and trading kisses as their heart slowed.

“You called me ‘husband’,” he said as he pulled her against his side, kissing her temple. She hummed and snuggled closer.

“Yes, this bed would only appear in my clearing on the night I was to claim my husband. I know your people have a different custom, but for mine, this is our Wedding night.”

“Well, my wife,” he said, rolling to his side, “If I’m to be a good husband, I think I should make sure my Cymar has a very pleasurable Wedding night. He moved so he was over her and joined their bodies. For the rest of the night, if anyone would have been close enough to hear, they would have heard Rumple giving Belle the best Wedding night possible.