A/N: A couple folks me and asked in the reviews to post the Alternate Ending up. Here you are, guys and gals! Tell me which one you liked the best! Thanks for reading and reviewing and enjoy!

~8~8~

The warm noontide sun of early summer beamed down upon Belle as she stood the apex of a large hillock that crested towards the sprawling lands of her father's provinces. Soft, summer wind whispered warmly past her face and tousled her chestnut hair and cloak playfully in a merry dance as she looked to the outlying kingdom spread before her in its dainty little shires and villages that was akin to a spread vibrantly hued quilt intermingled with a myriad of colors.

Out beyond the green fields and lovely cottages sat the modest palace of the small merchant king, Maurice, nestled towards the glimmering azure sea and the marsh tides of the east like some watchful protectorate of all it surveyed.

It was a home, Belle knew, but some how the word held a bitter sweetness that danced on her tongue as her sapphire eyes solemnly gazed upon her fathers blue and gold pennants fluttering in the warm sea breezes that brought the smells of salt in land.

She knew exactly what business the content villagers were doing even though she couldn't see anyone from her lofty perch; for nothing, she was absolutely certain, had changed amidst her father's realm since the years she had been gone as a slave to the Dark One.

She couldn't truly call it 'her home' any longer, she supposed grievously as her eyes scanned the horizon where brilliant blue waters that glinted flecks of the golden sun, met misty pale blue sky in some eternal expanse that flowed unto infinity. The beauty had come to see and feel that the Dark Castle was her true home.

The first few months she had been toiling in the Dark One's citadel the beauty had felt a mild pang of longing for her father's palace once or twice in the Dark Castle, but now she felt nearly physically sick from being away from the home she had come to know and cherish; her real home with Rum.

No, not much at all had changed since in her old home she had sold herself to Rumpelstiltskin, but nearly everything had changed about her. She was no longer the beauty that had been by her father's side years ago; fretting and combing over the old, brown and water stained fringed maps, and giving counsel on the next tactic the ogres might use to destroy their kingdom along with juggling a grand marriage at the same time to the knight, Gaston.

If there was one boon Rum had given her it was the time to be away from the lace and pretty painted faces, and tittering words of nonsense to be herself and let the true Belle be brought forward without being stifled by court gossip and useless noble fancies who disapproved of her quiet, bookish tendencies.

And now she would be going back to all of it to be more of an outcast than she had been before the ogres came to declare war and burn their home.

A heavy sigh fell from her lush, frowning lips as the beauty could already picture the dithering nobles and courtiers and hanger-on's all staring agape at her as she walked in; her stride still graceful but with a stoic strength, her hands, once delicate and dainty, work worn and calloused, but there was now a dark sorrow in her azure eyes that couldn't be masked no matter what veil she chose to disguise her emotions with.

She wagered she wouldn't get two steps into the gate before half the castle was aflame with gossip of her return.

The thoughts of going back to it all; to the mindless hours of neutral, numbing chats and harsh gossip and the false smiles and greedy eyes and Gaston with his battle hardened hands all over her as if she were some sort of trophy very nearly made Belle turn back around and never go back to her once home ever again.

A modest tavern in the Wild Wood near the dwarf mines had been impressed when she earned her keep for a couple of day by telling tales as a bard to the patrons who drank their nights and coins away. Dwarf and human alike had listened in a rapt trance as she wove fanciful stories of dragons and knights, in exchange for a few meals and a place to sleep by the hearth fire in the dining hall.

The owners, a rather jovial old couple, had offered her a job as a tavern bard that paid in room and board and she got to keep the thankful gestures of the patrons who gave her coppers and the occasional silvers in appreciation for her excellent story telling.

She had very nearly accepted, but thoughts of her ailing, aging father still dragging the heavy weight of governing on his stooping shoulders, and the condition of her people, had kept her duty born to return back to the place of her origin. Even if it would never be home again, the beauty was determined to aid as best she could until she most likely took reigns of the kingdom when her dear papa passed from the world of the living and into the shadows beyond.

However, she had decided from the moment she had laid down in front of the warm stones of the inn hearth for the last time, she would not marry Gaston.

It wasn't that she despised the knight in any acute way that made her blood boil to overflowing. He was courteous when courtesy was due, highly over protective, and dense as a brick, but was capable in some regards and would do the army a good service of leadership even if she was running everything else from behind the lavish velvet curtains of the palace.

After being engaged to him for a year, she had grown found enough of the rather dull knight to call him something akin to a friend, but never anything remotely close to love. Perhaps over years of them being married and she bearing him a few strapping sons, which he always admitted he wanted whenever they had gotten steered into that uncomfortable discussion, she might have learned to love him, but now that was an impossibility.

As she had lain there watching the banked ember glow warmly in the last flickering bits of light, she knew Rumpelstiltskin would always own her heart. He had claimed her love as his own even though he pushed it away, and yet in some strange was still kept it though he refused to acknowledge it.

She would never learn to love Gaston, and would not hurt him like that by being his wife but never truly loving him. Not even he deserved that cruelty.

As she scaled down the towering peak to the valley below where what once was home awaited, the beauty had to keep reminding herself of duty and sacrifice, even though with each wary step she couldn't help but think of it as walking toward slavery all over again.

It was slavery in a way, except her dungeon would be a lavish gilded room suffused with anything her heart desired as ladies in waiting dotted upon her every step and fretted over every sigh burst from the princess' lips. Fetters of silk rather than iron would be about her wrists, binding her to a lot in life that she thoroughly detested.

An amused sardonic smirk etched upon Belle's lips as she instantly decided she would take her old, dank, cold dungeon room in Rum's palace in a heart beat over whatever extravagancies awaited her back in her father's citadel.

The outskirts of the palace was busy as it usually was on market day with old, well known voices blusteringly hawking their wares of food, silks, trinkets, sweet meats, weapons, in good natured competition with their rivals who were more good friends than business foes, and children laughing and playing while mothers and fathers bartered and shopped for the wares.

Here and there a few young men and women just coming into their own were flirting and cooing one another as they mingled about in their own little groups of would be loves. The sight romance from the young who talked under shaded trees and walked hand in hand, stung Belle's heart worse than it should have, but she managed to shake off the pain and focus on snaking her way through the throngs and to the palace gates.

Looking from under her green and gold cloaks hood that she tactfully kept low over her amber honey hair, she could see that Rumpelstiltskin had indeed kept his word and the kingdom had prospered with more trade and money than it had ever had.

The people were happy and safe from the ogre blades and chains, and deny all she will; the beauty couldn't help but feel a grain of pride that she had the courage to strike a bargain with the Dark One to save them all at the price of her freedom.

As the dark iron gates that stood threateningly in front of the palace came into view, Belle couldn't help but feel a bit anxious in seeing her father and even Gaston again. What would they think? Surely the terms of the deal had been forever and now she was suddenly appearing like a woman come back from the grave! But all of that could wait, the beauty chided herself, as she slowed padded towards the rigid guards. First she had to figure out how to get inside the palace to face them, without the whole village hearing about it before she got to her father study!

"E-excuse me." Belle began timidly in a frail wispy timbre to hide her voice the guards still might recognize even thought it's been years and a few months. "I'm trying to seek a job as a servant in the castle. Is there a steward I may speak to?"

The guard before her was small compared to the other towering watchmen. He was nearly her height, and sported a reddish brown beard and dark eyes that stared and inspected her hungrily. Immediately Belle cursed her luck at a slip of memory that suddenly landed her in a dangerous position. This was Gaston's best friend, Laffue by name.

The burly guardsmen shrugged his broad shoulders carelessly as he lean his halberd on the Iron Gate. "Suppose I could, if you do something for me."

Before Belle could react to his insipid words, the brute knocked the hood from her head to get a better look at her features only to see a face everyone thought they'd never see again.

Rich maple curls that shown glossy in the sun tumbled down her shoulder, now free of the hood and Belle involuntarily winced at the shocked gasps that arose in simultaneous chorus from the people who milled around; that in turn made other people turn to stare.

"It can't be" One breath in surprise.

"Is it she?" Another asked dubiously.

Raucous clamor suddenly filled the market as people begin talking amidst themselves while other began began to glare disapprovingly at her.

Laffue stared agape at her, his mouth swinging open as he blinked owlishly at her. "My…my apologies, majesty. If I had known it to be you." He got no further as the sound of her father's booming voice resounded past the noise in a vitality Belle hadn't heard since she was a child.

He had been walking to the armory to see a new shipment of weapons that came across the sea, when he heard the noise and awed gasps and had taken a detour to witness the commotion. And there she stood, lovely Belle, his only child, his daughter! "Open the gate and let her through! Let my daughter through!" He roared and blustered as he stomped down the stairs still clad in his ermine finery of court.

Instantly the titanic iron clad gates swung open on greased hinges and Belle stepped inside to greet her father. "Papa!" Belle exclaimed happily, wrapping her arms about him in a monstrous hug.

"Oh my girl." Maurice bubbled in a tone that was neither joyous nor distraught; his hand stroking her maple curls as he squeezed her tight. He pushed her back after a moment, his thick hands on her shoulders as his eyes scanned her in morbid curiosity and relief mingled with a bit of terror wallowing in her brown eyes. "Come, come, we will talk in my study." He declared warily before he turned back towards the palace.

A bit of disquiet, and wariness pricked inside Belle's intelligent intuition, but so happy to see her father well, and in better health than when she had left, smothered any negative feelings she had flickering inside her.

The castle looked the same as if had when she had departed with her former master, but the huge gashes and holes torn through the ancient mortar and timber by the siege creations of the ogres had been expertly repaired and covered with inordinately expensive and expertly tailored rugs and tapestries so that it appeared there had never been an ogre war at all.

And yet despite the palace being returned to its former glory and finery now brimming with even more riches, a dark foreboding wafted through the corridors and chamber that felt like Rum's except far more sinister.

Courtiers, knights, nobles, and tittering ladies in waiting all stared agape at her, not even mildly trying to hide their stares as Belle and her father traversed their way to his private study.

Some, who she might be able to have called friends once upon a time, dipped deep bows to her befitting a princess, but so long working for Rumpelstiltskin as nothing more than a slave she fought the urge to blush at their respect and scuffle off to the servant's quarters.

"What happened, Belle? Did you escape?" Maurice asked as they entered his refurbished study and war room. Now in private the monarch became more relived to see her like any father would who had just been reunited with his child.

The beauty shook her head as she walked about the room that had remained the same since she had left. Her heart ached at the thoughts of her release and the cold, stony façade Rumpel had exuded when he tossed her out. "No, papa, he let me go." She replied simply, daring to not go into any detail.

Her father stared at her critically for a few tenuous agonizingly long minutes as if trying to unearth something hidden inside his daughter. After a silent few minutes had passed he wrapped his child in another hug, and this time Belle could hear the tears in his throat. "It's alright, Belle, you don't have to say anymore. I know you would be loath to speak of your slavery, even to me. You were brave and only did what you thought best for our people and to survive. I do not look upon you any less now no matter what perverse pleasure you had to endure at that beast hands."

"Wait, what?" Belle murmured confused as she pulled away at arms length from her father. Her brow was furrowed with confusion as she watched the tears stream down his eyes.

"We received a letter from your late betrothed, Gaston. He wrote how he battled the beast and when he eventually lost the bloody monster cast a spell on him to relate the message that you were ill treated and used for his…lustful amusement." The monarch verified before swiping his warm brown eyes clear of tears.

The beauty grimaced at the foul words as a blush fired upon her cheeks even at the thought of Rum doing any of those things. She shook her head laconically, anger slightly sparking in a low ember within her. "He never touched me. I don't know what got into Gaston, but that is a lie. Rumpelstiltskin is not a beast or a monster; he is a thoughtful good hearted man deep down. He was a kind master to me and always made sure I was in need of nothing."

Her fathers face suddenly turned to ashen white like a corpse trussed up in a casket as he backed a few steps away from her in disbelief at her words; his jowls wobbling as he attempted to speak, but at first no words coming out. His eyes widened into terror as he nervously licked his lips. "She…she foretold you would say that…she said it was the true sign…"

"What?" Belle shook her head slightly as the lines in her brown deepened in confusion. "Papa, you're speaking in riddles. What sign and who is she?"

"Allow me to clarify your questions." A sly, intelligent voice remarked suddenly. One could almost hear the infuriating smirk on her lips even without turning as her tall stiletto heels clicked rhythmically into the study.

Belle could have gone ten thousand years without hearing that voice, but in the moment the sound reached her ears she knew it belonged to the woman that made the hairs on the back of the beauty's neck prickle and her blood to heat in fury.

Rounding about, the beauty scowled to suddenly see the form of the noble woman from the road all clad in black and standing quite comfortably inside the study. Her eyes narrowed hatefully into twin sapphire slits as she all but growled at the calmly perusing witch. "Papa, you should have the guards remove this harpy at once. She is an evil queen who did more damage to me in one day than any time I spent with the Dark One. She tricked me into loosing his trust!"

Regina, turned her cold teal stare to the flagrantly bewildered, scared, and flustered king who looked to Regina and back at Belle with a hard, worried gaze. Her face softened into a guise of concern and solace as she shook her head laconically in condolences. "You see, dear king? Everything I said has come to pass. I feared as much, but the fiend has been so hard to her, her mind has snapped under the strain in order to cope with his cruelty."

Her attention turned back to Belle, but where the beauty's father saw genuine wisdom and grief, the returning princess saw the evil glee flitting beneath the pallid exterior. "We know what trauma you've gone through. The things he's done to try and taint you for his sinister amusement. Please, I and your father only want to help make you better. You don't have to fool yourself any longer into thinking that was love all those nights pinned under him to warm his bed and sate his lust."

"How dare you say such things about him? He has honor, and never touched me or toyed with my mind!" Belle screamed harshly; her loose curls falling slightly over her face in a curtain of russet.

"Belle, please listen, Regina only wants to help." Maurice intersected tenderly, his voice placating and coaxing as when Belle was a little girl and he was trying to get her to come out of one of her many reading nooks she sequestered herself in.

The beauty jerked around to her father in disbelief that he was falling for the blatant veil of concern and kindness with the cruelty lurking right under her pale flesh. "No, papa, you listen. This woman tore my whole world down and single handedly managed to murder my happiness. She is an evil queen who seeks to destroy Rumpelstiltskin!"

"And that is not a noble cause? To defeat the beastly Dark One who steals children and ruins lives?" The witch retorted slyly as she padded innocently towards Belle. "Dear, dear, just trust us to make you bet-."

"No!" Belle roared as Regina's hand neared her shoulder. In an instant she grabbed Regina by the wrist and unsheathed the dagger under her cloak she had acquired from her journey back home. "You told me to give him that kiss, knowing it would weaken him! You ruined what I could have had with him!"

Before she could even make a slash at the vile harpy, her father's thick hand grabbed her wrist as guards burst through the thick double doors at the screams and came streaming inside.

Regina leapt back as Belle struggled from her father's grip, which easily handed her over to the chain mail clad guards. They grabbed her firmly by the upper arm and shoulders as they disarmed her and held her back from the seemingly startled, but inwardly pleased Regina.

"Stop and think for a moment, Belle!" Her father cried out distressfully. "You've pulled a blade on a woman you've never even met, and have just defended the beast that took you away from us!"

"Rum is not a beast!" Belled shrieked as she fought against the guards in her blood fueled rage. "She's the beast, she is!"

The witch merely shrugged as she shook her head pityingly. "Do you see, King Maurice? She has even given him a pet name of affection. Her mind is so deluded, she actually believes she cares for that animal. Do you see how necessary my plan is now?"

All eyes were on the corpulent king who stood there staring at Belle who had stopped her struggles, but still looked half crazed with fury towards the woman she had dubbed the 'evil queen.'

"Yes." He breathed hoarsely, his throat tight with tears. "Guards, take her to the tower. The clerics and shamans will purge her soul and cleanse her mind of this…infatuation with the Dark One…"

~8~8~

Rumpelstiltskin hated dwelling in the lavish Dark Castle now that he was again the only resident that inhabited the ominous citadel. A year to the date, and the pain hadn't subsided even for the minutest of fractions.

He had spun so much gold in trying to relive Belle from his memory that he had conjured a new store room for his hoards of golden twine, and still her words and face plagued him with out relent.

The worst was when he finally managed to banish her memory for a few hours and find some sort of solace in the dismalness of his heart only to absently call for her while he was working on something, only to realize it was all in vain. A pain so great clamped over his heart that he thought he might wither and die as silence was all that replied. She would never answer again to a quip he had thought up, or fritter away a few hours with banter and reading.

No matter how soft a bed or lavish a chamber, the fiend could no longer find any peace in sleep unless it was in Belle's old cell resting on the cold stone floor with a cloak pulled over him as she had done. Yet that too had its own price for the memories of her were especially vivid there, and some nights he could even swear he smelled the aroma of her perfume drifting through the cold air as sleep pulled him into its realm where images of her haunted his dreams.

He was granted no peace when she was gone, but perhaps that was his penance for blatantly lying in her face and tossing her out as some one unwanted and unloved. She had nailed her words to his cold, black heart the day he had given her freedom, and left them there to bleed into a bloody puddle of his soul.

If he could go back in time it would be different. If he knew the pain and the emptiness he would feel every second she wasn't near he would have done something anything different; he wouldn't have been, as she said, so cowardly.

At night when he would lay awake in the blackness of the cell, unable to stand another dream where her laughter capriciously chimed longingly through his mind; listening to the curious rats scurry and run in the darkness he would wonder what would happen if he went to find Belle.

As long as the ogres remained defeated and barred from her father's land, Belle was still his property and he could lay claim to her whenever he desired. Even though he had given her a type of freedom, the magical monster always laid down loop-holes as was his nature.

It would have been a simple spell to reveal her location, but just as she had said those long, long days ago he was to cowardly to pursue her as his whole body willed him to. The Darkness held him back, constantly reliving the night of his terror as he had almost turned back into a mere mortal man to keep his courage at bay. He would have transformed back into a weak cripple with a host of enemies who wouldn't think twice of gutting him.

Still, when terror of that night did not grip him in its icy talons, the fiend's mind usually drifted back to the one glorious moment where her lips had met his. Oh had there been anything more blissful than that moment?

Rumpel sighed mournfully as he turned the wheel in its lazy cycle, his mind wandering over that soft press of her lips against his own. Even now as he licked he lips, he swore he could taste her mouth over his.

"Stop it. Stop thinking of her!" Rumpelstiltskin growled viciously as his hand clamped over the rim of his wheel and his black claws dug deeply into the timber. He felt the pain surge in him as he laid his scaly forehead to the wood. The magical monster was tired of the sleepless nights, and the loneliness and the pain and the hurt that would never mend. By heaven above he would give anything to forget a wonderful woman named Belle had ever existed! "But you can't." He rasped hoarsely in a whisper, his throat catching. "You can't…"

He very nearly slammed his fist against the ancient spinner's wheel in heart ache and agitation, when he felt his heart lurch on its own accord that had nothing to do with the wallowing mire of sadness.

A pain, real, physical agony slashed through him, staggering the fiend. His breath hitched in his tight throat has his talons scratched at the flesh above his heart. What was happening? Why did it feel as though something was crying out to him in fear and pain?

Gasping, his eyes went wide as the torment subsided, but not the alarm that had barreled through him. "Belle…" He whispered her name in a tremulous breath. She was in trouble. He didn't know how he knew it, only that he knew without a shadow of a doubt something bad was about to occur to his Belle.

Gliding unceremonious off his stool, the devious monster staggered to his apothecary, his magic searching for the one tool that would help him find Belle. As he burst into his apothecary the black tendrils of his magic combed the room seeking what he now desperately sought.

The dark magic's might not have beckoned to his command if it too hadn't been so shocked at the lances of foreign pain that had shot through its host. Begrudgingly the blackness bent to his will; making a path of foul power to the item he sought.

A gilded silver hand mirror rested down at the bottom of a rusted steel chest that was covered in thick folds of dust and hidden by other items. The devious Dark One instantly tossed the article away as he dug for the one thing that would show him anyone he desired who dwelled in this world. He had learned the hard way that the magic did not extend to other worlds.

His dexterous claws grabbed the handle as he pulled it forth from the chest that it had been hidden in all those long centuries. It would show him where she resided, but he needed something of her first. Immediately he snapped his fingers, brining forth the slip of blue ribbon she had neatly tied about his arm those long days ago when he had seemingly gotten revenge on the cunning Maleficent.

Wrapping the small token around the expertly crafted hilt, the fiend peered deeply at the glass, his sable orbs searching the reflection frantically. "Show me Belle!" He all but roared and watched intently as the glass swirled to look like some silvery water then began to steadily clear.

~8~8~

"Please, princess, we're doing this for your own good." One of the rotund clerics stated serenely as he gleefully spun a heating brand into the belly of a roaring fire.

Belle didn't deem to speak, but tested the chains around her wrist for what felt like the hundredth time. It was no use, no matter how much she pleaded and ranted as they dragged her out of the palace and into the forest tower all those three days ago no one would believe her tale. They all trusted the kings 'advisor' and either regarded the princess in sneers of disgust or glances of pity.

"Are the toys almost ready?" Regina asked as she appeared in the tower in a dense mist of black that looked like acrid smoke from the pits of hell. The wicked monarch gave a sadistic little chuckle as she sauntered over to what she had so tenderly referred to as her 'toys'; her delicate hands tracing over the bloody implements.

The cleric nodded once and bowed low as he picked out a certain instrument riddled with spikes. "We're finally ready, my queen." He giggled insanely as did the other 'clerics' that milled around the room.

"Why are you doing this? What do you get out of this?" Belle asked; her bravery finally on its last legs as she gaped at the foreign pain inducing devices that would soon assail her flesh.

Regina perched a brow slightly in amusement as she picked up one of the pokers and twirled it deftly in her grip. "Why? My dear, when I kill you I get to crush the one thing Rumpelstiltskin loves. And therefore when I tell him of your tragic death where you threw yourself off the tower I get to kill a little part of him as well." Turning back to the men who had all grabbed some vile devices, the queen gave them all a warm smile, giving Belle no more thought. "Shall we begin, gentlemen?"

Nodding as one, they all slowly turned to the beauty who trembled in fear at the pain only moments away. The first cleric who had been heating the pokers stepped up with his device that looked like a long corded whip with razors to perhaps flay flesh from bone with each stroke.

Unable to watch, Belle shut her eyes to fight back the tears, but a small scream did escape her lips along with the name of her love.

A sharp, bloody crack rent the air accompanied by a scream as Belle's body trembled uncontrollably. A fraction of a second later, she realized the sound had not been from her lips, nor had the flay touched her flesh. Opening her eyes a peek, she could barely believe that the thing standing in front of her had gray-gold flesh that shimmered in the fire light like scales and straggly dirty brown hair.

"Don't. You. Touch. Her." He grounded out every word at the body with the bloody flay wrapped around his throat cutting off his air supply and the razors digging into the cords of his neck to bring out spurts of hot black blood.

The fiend heaved in rage as his eyes spied the cruel harpy standing in the back of the clerics, her once victorious smirk swiped clean off her face only to be replaced seconds later with an amiable smile. "Rumpel, I didn't expect to see you here. As you can see I'm only having a little fun. Care to join in?"

"She's still mine!" He snapped and with a wave of his fingers turned all the clerics into earthworms writing on the stone, leaving no one in-between he and Regina.

The witch put on an expression of unfairness as she took a step forward. "Tut tut, Rumpel. You freed her therefore making her fair game."

"Wrong, Dearie, the contract was and is forever. As long as the ogres stay out of her fathers land her debt is mine to collect anytime I deem fit. She will always be mine and do you know what happens to those that touch my property?" He asked; his voice low and dangerous making the sorceress shiver despite the heat.

In a moment he had taken one step but was sudden right in front of Regina, his talons digging viciously into the cords of her neck. "Really bad things." He hissed inches from her terrified face. He stayed frozen that way for a moment, letting her sputter and try to use her magic that had no affect at all upon him. "Don't let it happen again." The devious Dark One spat.

With that he released her, letting the foul monarch stumbled backward and nearly trip. Regina coughed and hacked at the pain in her throat and the blood that dribbled down her flawless skin. She opened her mouth to speak, but the sheer frosty glint of ice in his onyx orbs closed her mouth tighter than any spell could.

Scowling darkly at him, the witch waved her fingers and disappeared in a could of foul magic to lick her wounds and cry over her failed plans.

The press of her foul magic abated as she disappeared and Rum turned about, his breathing still heavy. "Belle!" He cried her name as he raced over to her.

With a snap of his finger the chains cruelly wrapped about her wrist that had dug into her skin and make her stand just on the tip of her toes for three days vanished into sand. Her legs were as weak as water, but her caught her up in his strong grip the way he had that day she fell from the ladder.

"Rum." Belled chocked, her smile wide and relived as tears of happiness glimmered in her eyes. Slinging one of her arms around his neck, the beauty fell close to him, letting his warmth soothe her. "How…why are you here?"

Not that she wasn't grateful, of course; he had come at the most opportune time and saved her from torture! It was just that the way he had been that long year ago had made her think he detested the very sight of her. Why after all that time apart would he come to her aid?

She was safe! The word rattled through him as he held her close to his wiry frame to keep her protected. He hadn't the courage to go after her, but once he had felt her need all caution was thrown to the arid wind to keep her from harm. "You took something from me." He revealed, hoarsely in relief that she was safe flitting his voice. By the Dark Magic itself he never wanted to let her go!

The beauty's brow knit in lines of misunderstanding, and trying to recall what she had taken, before she shook her head mildly. "T-the book?" She stammered unsure.

"No, Belle-of-mine, not the book." The magical monster replied in a hint of amusement as his tongue slipped with her old nick-name. He grinned softly at her; he couldn't help it after what she could have possibly gone through if he hadn't felt her pain and fear in his heart.

The silence about them was almost palpable as they stared gently at one another. After a year of separation all they truly desired was to drink deep the image of the other.

Slowly, her hand pressed against his black leather vest and ran up to his chest where his heart lay still pounding in a dull tempo. "Was it this?" She asked with a ghost of a grin on her pale lips.

The fiend didn't smile, nor did he frown as his head bent down to look at her hand resting against his heart and feeling it somersault in his chest. She was correct, but he couldn't dare admit it. She would weaken him more then…with a harsh inward curse the fiend banished his contemplation as he offered her a hard fought grin. It didn't matter at that moment, what mattered was that she was safe.

"Hold tight now, I don't want you falling through the magic." He remarked as pulses of purple magic began to envelope them.

"Where are we going?" She asked intrepidly. Even though she knew her father had been manipulated, the beauty was loath to return home to everyone who firmly believed her some mind addled, tainted whore. No, her place was no longer at her father's stronghold.

The magical monster's ebony orbs searched her for a moment, before taking a deep breath that rattled precariously through his form and for one moment he deemed to be brave. "Home, Belle, I'm taking you to your proper home."

The world turned from drab gray and red to the rich burgundies and browns of the Dark Castle, looking as though the pair had never left. The Dark One carried his wonderful burden, his Belle to the high backed arm chair in front of the roaring fire with ease.

Laying her down upon the plush leather gently the fiend snapped his dexterous talons to bring forth the blue and ivory ceramic kettle with its one remaining chipped cup that hadn't been used since his rampage.

As he poured her a steaming cup of the heady aromatic tea, Rumpelstiltskin knew he could deny his feelings all he wanted that, however, wasn't going to stop them or banish them away from his heart.

No matter what he wouldn't, couldn't let Belle go again even though his dark nature was roaring at him to do so. To be honest he truly did not know where that left them. Were they always to be distant from one another, walking upon eggshells lest a bit of that love seep through, but then again since he had rescued her wasn't the love fully flooding them both in its own way?

He loved her, he knew without a doubt as he stood there watching her drain the cup of warm brew. Her azure eyes, he had missed so, glimmered in the fire light and her dirty maple curls sprawled down her shoulders in a way that made his heart race. With more than a little surprise he also knew that she in some miraculous, strange way truly did love him.

Turning on his heel to face away from his Belle the fiend grimaced as he watched the darkened world from out of the spotless monolithic panes of glass. If this was going to work, if it could no longer be kept at bay or hidden in the deaths of their hearts…

"I won't change. I won't give up my power." He stated suddenly; his voice toneless as his sable orbs scanned the blackness of the mountain peaks.

"I never asked that of you." Belle replied quietly as she remained staring at the cavorting flames of the hearth.

"I won't kiss you." He continued in the same neutral timbre, even though he had to suppress the urge to flinch.

"Then I shall be content lying by your side." She retorted gently with a vague tip of her head.

"You know there is a beast inside of me, Belle." He finally spat after a moment of silence. This time his voice cracked with something akin to happiness mingled with a sadness that had never been there before. It was then he came to a shocking realization she probably owned him more than he had ever laid claim to her.

The beauty smiled as Rumpelstiltskin turned back to her and knelt to the side of the armrest to be face to face with her. Placing her hand tenderly on her clean-shaven, gray-gold cheek, a solitary, happy, and yet mildly regretted tear for all gives and takes brooked down her face as she smiled tenderly in a way that encompassed the Dark One's entire world.

Belle placed her forehead against his, her eyes shut tight as they listened to the quiet and their tremulous breathing that nearly felt in sync. A small chuckle at his words sprang from her lips as she tapered her hand up to entangle in his dirty brown mane. "So I shall tame the beast, my love...my Rum."