If one ever travelled into the high mountain peaks, capped with snow on the edge of the Forestlands, you would find the fortress known as the Dark Castle. There the stone walls surrounding the formidable estate are covered in huge green vines growing wildly where long ago the granite shown in the sunlight. If one is brave enough to venture past the looming iron gates, you would find the once immaculate grounds overgrown with weeds and thistle. No longer did a vast array of flowers bloom near the massive entry door, but withered and decayed in the overcast rays from above. Moving into the main hall, where once the floors and surfaces were clean and shining, they were now covered in a thick layer of dust.

The one constant in the castle was the ever blazing hearth and the man who sat before it…if you could call him a man with his long black talons, green-gold skin and overlarge eyes the color of warm amber. His wiry frame was swathed in knee-high black boots, a long-sleeved black shirt made of the finest silk, a leather vest made of dragon hide and leather trousers that would make many a maid swoon if not for his fearsome appearance.

However, for such a loathsome beast as he was purported to be, one wouldn't expect the gleam of pain reflected in his eyes as he stared into the fire.

The pain was not the ordinary physical pain such as a broken finger, leg or arm but the emotional agony of the soul. If you would be so brave as to sit beside him in an identical chair to watch him, you would wonder what his thoughts could be to cause such pain to a beast.

So now we begin the story of Rumpelstiltskin to bring him to this point in time.

Pain…

Yes, it was his daily pain as he gazed into the fire. Watching the flames crackle, burning the embers of the pine knots, and wishing the flames could erase the ache in his heart.

Pain…

His grip on his left hand turned his talons into the wood of the armrest, digging…hoping for anything that would help him.

Heartbeat…

Pain…

In his right hand he was holding a white teacup with a blue flower design set into the delicate porcelain, yet on the rim of the cup was a chip. Lifting the cup to his lips to drink the tea he made, feeling the cold tea on his lips, it felt like acid as it descended down his throat.

"Damn it," he sputtered out loud.

He looked into the cup, at the cold liquid held within, as if to heat it back up in the cold room. Instead he threw the contents up towards the fire letting the liquid fall into the flames. He watched as the fire died down for a moment and then leapt back up to mock him, reminding him of the never-ending guilt in his heart.

Pain again rose with another beat of his dark heart.

Still looking into the flames before him, he saw the image of a beautiful woman with chestnut hair and blue eyes, the most beautiful smile in the realms displayed on her petal soft lips just for him, making him year to learn more about her. His breath caught at the image until his heartbeat stuttered again, the damaged organ filled with deepest regret. She's gone. Never coming back. All because of me. Dead to this world.

His left arm jerked from the arm of the chair in anger hitting the new teapot next to him on the side table. The sound of breaking china reverberated throughout the Great Hall as the tray and its contents fell to the floor. He gazed dispassionately at the mess on the wooden floor as the amber liquid streaked away from the broken tea-pot.

Heartbeat…

Pain…

No matter how he tried to forget, the memories continued to resurface…in particular, his first day with her.

He sat in the same chair by the long dining table, watching as she came into the room in her golden formal gown proclaiming her status as princess in her land, carrying a tea service. He decided then to give her instruction on her duties as she set about filling his cup with his evening tea. "You will serve me my meals and you will clean the Dark Castle."

"I-I understand," she stammered in her nervousness.

"You will dust my collection and launder my clothing," he continued, waving a hand now and then. He never had been one to sit still for long, especially when speaking.

"Yes," she acknowledged with a nod to show she understood his instructions if not the precise details of how she would carry them out. She was a princess and therefore knew little of domestic duties.

"You will fetch me fresh straw when I'm spinning at the wheel." His eyes narrowed on her as she carried out her task, only the slight trembling of her hands betraying her fright. Does nothing faze this little noble, he thought?

She nodded respectfully once again and proceeded to pick up the cup to bring and place before him at the far end of the table. "Got it," she said, relaxing a bit as she realized her duties would not be as taxing on her person as she'd previously thought.

He couldn't resist teasing her as she stood there, looking nervous and unsure, foot poised and ready to take that first hesitant step towards him. "Oh, and you will skin the children I hunt for their pelts."

A smug smirk of satisfaction graced his lips as he watched her lips part on a gasp of horror. The delicate china tea-cup slipped from her frozen fingers to land with a pronounced thunk on the carpet and he couldn't stop the giggle that bubbled from his thin lips. His nose scrunched in humor and he waggled a finger at her as he said, "That was a quip. Not serious."

A tremulous smile curved her lips as she met his gaze from beneath her lashes. "Right," she answered with a relived sigh. She dropped down on her haunches to retrieve the cup she'd dropped. The pulse beating so frantically beneath her jaw skipped a beat as she raised her eyes to meet his, her lower lip quivering slightly as she tried to apologize. "Oh my, I-I'm so sorry, but…it's um…it's chipped. You can hardly see it," she stated, holding the cup at an angle and hoping he wouldn't notice just how badly it was damaged.

His brow furrowed as he leaned over in his chair to see her better where she hunched on the floor, curious and intrigued as to why she would worry so much over a simple tea-cup. "It's just a cup," he said, waving the matter away as unimportant.

Since then he always drank his tea from that cup and no other. His face turned to look at the same teacup dangling by his fingertips in his right hand. He wrapped both hands around his precious treasure, holding it close to his chest, and praying the memory it held would always be with him. He could have that small measure of relief and solace at least.

Another beat of his heart, accompanied by the burning of tears that he refused to shed…

Pain...

His grip tightened on the cup that he held in his hands like a talisman and he closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the chair to block out the images of the months she'd spent in his home. And it wasn't a home…not without her. He couldn't banish the images of her cleaning his home, defying him with the outlaw, cooking his meals or especially the quiet afternoons he'd shared with her over tea. The corner of his mouth twitched into a sad smile as he remembered how she would laugh at his quips, a poor attempt to shock her with his dark humor, to be sure.

His heart stuttered and he fought down the sob that rose to choke him…

Pain…

A single tear escaped the corner of his eye to trail down his weathered cheek and disappear into the collar of his shirt. He brushed his fingers against the wetness, staring dumbly at the moisture on his fingertips. If only I could change what I did that day. If only I would have accepted what she had offered me. True Love.

Another tear fell unbidden from his lashes…

Pain…

Rising from the chair, he gazed about the darkened room, the fire and a feeble ray of moonlight shining through the open curtain the only illumination in the darkness. It was the same window where he'd saved her, caught her in his arms as she'd plummeted from the top of the ladder to land safely in his arms. If she hadn't drawn him to her with her musical laughter, she could have been seriously injured. Yet it was that moment in time that he'd finally admitted his feelings for her and decided to let her go.

Walking towards the window, he took the cup and held it gently, reverently in his right hand before placing it onto the pedestal, making sure it was in the exact center in its place of honor…for her. He rested his hands on the pedestal on either side of the cup as he stared out at the light of the moon as it shone brightly on the cup. His shoulders slumped. If my enemies could see me now, he thought. Loving a tea-cup. They would think me more insane than ever. Maybe I am. The only thing I have left is my search for Baelfire…my precious boy.

A dull thud from his heart…

Endless Pain...

He turned away from the pedestal, from the memories, his eyes falling on his spinning wheel in the corner. Spinning helps me forget. Maybe it's time to lose myself once again, to have just one moment where her memory doesn't haunt me.

He took his seat on the stool set before the ancient contraption and fed straw into it, stepping on the pedal and moving the wheel, the straw going through the process and curling out into a long strand of gold into the basket at his feet. He'd hoped to forget the last time he'd sat at the wheel, yet the memories were an unforgiving mistress and would not release him from the torment.

Standing next to the wheel, turning it idly in his hand, he ground his teeth fiercely as he heard the laughing sneer of the queen call out. "Flimsy locks."

He acknowledged the Evil Queen's presence in his hall with only a bored glance before turning back to the wheel. He hoped she would take the hint and leave him in peace. It had been many months since he'd told Belle to go, believing her to be working for the queen. Now he wasn't so certain and the doubts and fear that he could have been wrong ate away at him daily.

"I have a deal to discuss…with a certain…mermaid," she said, making herself at home.

His teeth gnashed together as he replied, "I'm not dealing today."

A tsking sound reached his ears and he knew she was pouting. "Are you angry with me? What is it this time?"

Finally tired of her intruding on his solitude, he turned from the wheel to face her. "Your little deceptions failed. You will never be more powerful than me," he hissed, staring at her hard. With a warning voice he advised her, "You can keep trying dearie but you're never gonna beat me."

He went back to the wheel, once again intent on ignoring her. He heard the tea being poured into a tea-cup. Great this evil hag is never going to leave.

"Is it about that girl I met on the road? Hmm?" she asked. He heard her laugh as she continued, "What was her name Margie? Verna?"

He muttered the answer to her since she wasn't leaving, "Belle."

"Right!" Hearing the clatter of silverware behind him, he knew she was using his tea set to make her a cup of tea. This evil soul needed to leave his home.

"Well.. You can rest assured I had nothing to do with that tragedy."

Hearing this he stopped the spinning of the wheel and turned slowly to face her, asking, "What tragedy?"

Her face twisted into a mask of surprise. "You don't know. Hmm, well…" She prolonged his suspense, always having delighted in the torment of others and she knew how the imp loathed waiting for anything, walking around the end of the table before turning to face him. "After she got home…her fiance had gone missing."

Yeah, my fault. I know what I did to him. Get on with it dearie. He hated when she walked away once again then faced him to finish the tale. "And after her stay here," she paused, "Her association with you, no one would want her of course. Her father shunned her…cut her off… shut her out…"

Hearing this information now, he knew right then that Belle had not been in league with Regina. Oh God what have I done. Now he was concerned. He sputtered out, "So she needs…a home?"

She laughed, the sound prickling along his nerve endings and sending a shiver of fear down his spine. He knew better than anyone that when Regina was happy it never boded well for any others involved.

"He was cruel to her. He locked her in a tower and sent in clerics to cleanse her soul... with scourges and flaying…" She paused then, twisting the knife a little deeper as she finally said, "After a while she threw herself off a tower. She died."

Immediately knowing his Belle would never do that, he confronted her, calling her on her deception, "You're lying!"

She had looked so honest, it made his doubts shrivel to ash as she said, "Am I?"

Now he was tired of the woman, wanted her out of his hall this minute. With a firm voice he declared, "Were done!" He walked slowly towards the double doors leading out into the foyer, not wanting her to see how each of her words had caused him to die just a little inside.

She set her tea-cup down, knowing he'd reached his limit and she should leave before he caused her bodily harm.

"Urgh... Fine, I have other calls to make." His gaze never left her but the final words she said to him as she made to walk past him made his heart ache with pain. "Place is looking dusty, Rumple. You should get a new girl."

Thud…

Pain…

The wheel halted of all movement as his brow fell forward onto it, wishing he could go back in time to change what he had done to her. Oh, Belle…

So lost in his reverie of painful memories that it crippled him, he didn't hear the urgent tapping at the window across the room. Tap…tap…

If he had turned at that moment with the moonlight shining into the room, by the window with its open curtain, he would have seen a single white messenger dove tapping at the glass to be lit in. As the moon shone onto the dove as a beacon, he could have seen a torn dirty piece of clothing attached to its leg. If he would have looked closely enough at the fabric, some red markings of a message were clearly etched onto it. If only he had looked.