#feline behaviour

She just wasn’t sure how to tell him. Her mother and grandmother had raised her to keep her nature hidden, and although she had told Rumple in general terms what she was, this was different. In Avonlea at this time of year she would be secluded with her mother and the families of the ladies that had accompanied her grandmother when she married. They celebrated together in the privacy of a cabin on the edge of the city. It was a secret time for them, one they did not speak of even between themselves. That level of ingrained secrecy was hard to overcome.

The clerics had tried a few times to have their gathering stopped, but they had been restricted by the secrecy that surrounded her grandmother’s marriage contract. Rumple would appreciate the binding nature of that arrangement, she wondered if he could get the original from the vault at home? Belle shook her head, it was no good distracting herself with frivolous thoughts, she needed to tell him what was going to happen.

 In the end it was a book that helped Belle. She’d found it in the library, and one chapter perfectly described the festival and the changes that the children of Bast would undergo during that time. She marked the relevant chapter and placed it on the tray with Rumple’s afternoon tea. It wasn’t the bravest way to inform him, but she felt that she’d not broken the rules of her family by telling him this way, after all the book was in his library, he could have read it at any point, she’d just brought it to his attention.

She knew he had read the book because he was twitchier than normal at dinner. She’d become used to his quirks and waited while he gathered his thoughts.

“So, you’re going to become a cat-person for three days?”

It wasn’t the most elegant wording she’d even heard from him, but it was to the point. She finished her mouthful of food and dapped her lips with her napkin.

“Yes, I am.”

“Hum. Will you need privacy? I could leave for the duration, always deals to be made.”

Belle had considered this; the festival was a private event in Avonlea because of the clerics, but it had never been so closed in her grandmother’s homeland. Apart from a few ritual elements there was no reason that she couldn’t spend it with Rumple.

“No, there’s no need for you to leave. In fact, I’d rather you stayed. I’ve never been alone for the festival before. You could share in the celebration with me.”

He tilted his head and fixed her with a curious look; she had the distinct impression that he had a dozen questions to ask but was holding his tongue for now. He finally gave a curt nod; “Very well, but I warn you, dearie, the Dark One does not sing.”

She laughed at that, “That’s fine, you don’t have to join in with the singing.”

 Rumple had been a little distracted in the days before Belle’s festival. King George’s son had gone and got himself killed, thankfully he had a spare waiting in the wings, but the whole process of getting the shepherd in place had been time consuming. He grinned to himself, it had been very satisfying irritating George, and at least he now knew why his visions had insisted on the twins for this part of his plan.

He strolled into the castle at dusk, looking forward to a cup of tea and maybe a cake or two. A low growl caused his steps to falter, and the hair on the back of his neck to rise up.

“Rrrumple.”

The purring roll of his name sent shivers down his spine. He turned slowly on his toes and found Belle perched on the banister, how the hell had he not seen her when he came in? She was covered head to toe in chestnut fur, her normally blue eyes were now an amber to rival his own, and she had a tail which was flicking in the air behind her. She was breath-taking.

“Belle.”

She leapt from the banister and lightly dropped to the floor. As she uncurled to stand up Rumple realized that she was naked. True she was covered in fur, and cats weren’t known for wearing clothes, but still this was Belle without a stitch on. He lowered his eyes to his boots.

“I see your festival has started. Good, good, I’ll erm, I’ll just…”

A pair of furred feet entered his line of sight. He was interested notice that Belle’s claws were a creamy ivory and looked viciously sharp. She was so close to him, but before he could back away she had wrapped herself around him. Without any intervention from his brain, his hands came to rest lightly on her back. Gods, she was so warm and soft.

“Rumple, you smell perfect.”

He jumped in her arms as something firm stroked across his backside. Glancing over his shoulder he found Belle’s tail was wrapped around his hip caressing his arse. He was used to her affectionate moods, but this felt very different, this felt more like a prelude to … No! It couldn’t … Belle couldn’t want that … not from him. She purred as she rubbed her stomach against his hips. Oh Gods! This was exactly what he thought it was!

Rumple twisted out of Belle’s embrace and stumbled sideways from her. Belle pouted and advanced on him again. For every step back, he took she took one forward.

“What are you doing, Belle?”

“Greeting my mate.”

“What?”

He would deny for all eternity the way that question escaped his lips as a high-pitched squeak. His back bumped into the wall and Belle lunged forward, her hands braced on the stone on either side of his shoulders.

“My mate, Rumple. Mine.”

He desperately tried to recall what the book had said about this festival; according to the text it was all joy, music, and chasing mice. There had been nothing about mating. Oh, unless; “The book was for children.”

Belle rubbed her face against his chest; “Yes, for kits. I’m not a kit anymore Rumple.”

Her fur was tickling the bare skin of his throat. Oh, that felt so nice. No, no, he couldn’t let himself get lost in the sensation. Belle was fixing on him because he was the only other person here, she had no other choice. He was a beast, but he wouldn’t take advantage of her just because her instincts were driving her to this. He squirmed his neck away from her touch.

“Belle. Belle, you don’t need to do this. I can find you more children of Bast. You can celebrate with them.”

He could do that for her, he’d played matchmaker before now, of course he normally had more time to organize matters, but needs must.

Belle hissed in his ear; “Don’t want anyone else. Want my mate. My Rumple.”

Her tail snaked around his leg, the tip nudging along his inner thigh. He closed his eyes; “I’m sorry Belle.”