Disclaimer: Nope none of this mine, just Fynn is my own invention.

A/N: *peeks warily over the corner* Um, hi everyone. Long time no see, right? *nervous laughter* Okay, well before you all start throwing tomatoes and rotten fruit at me, let me apologize for taking so long on this chapter. I don't know why, but I hit a forty foot concrete wall of writer's block for this chapter. Then of course I got attacked by plot bunnies, not mention school and work and life deciding to take pieces of my time like they were slices of cake. But I finally found the time and inspiration so here it is. I hope everyone enjoys. You may now commence your vegetable attack.

Anonymous Reviews:

Xuang Lin: Yeah, much of this story is heartbreaking. Poor Belle has to endure a lot to get what she wants. I'm so glad you liked it.

Guest: Aw, thanks for those kind words. Sadly, I don't think I'll ever return to my SGA stories because of how the series broke my heart in the end. Joseph Malozzi's attack on the fans made it feel like the show and the characters were no longer mine. I will always hold a place in my heart for those stories and those characters, but it hurt too much to continue.

Guest: I know, I really want her to get to Storybrooke too. Sadly, it will take a while. I hope you enjoy the journey though.

prttykitty7728: Aw, so glad you like it. Hope this chapter is everything you want.

Chapter 3: The Proof of True Love

They had traveled all day, only stopping to rest for the sake of their horses. Emma's back and legs were killing her. This was worse than when she'd tried out for the cheerleading squad after she lost that bet with T.J. At least then all she'd gotten was some pulled muscles and vehement hatred for rhymes. They'd been riding for hours and she was ninety percent certain the bag of fleas called a horse had a personal hatred for her. He liked to slow down to a crawl at times. She'd kick and curse at him but he still wouldn't move. Then, just when she was certain he was about to keel over and die, he would pick up speed like he was Secretariat.

Everyone else seemed fine with the riding. Mary Margaret looked like she'd been born in a saddle. Maybe Snow White was the better name to call her out here. She certainly didn't look like the schoolteacher she'd gossiped over cinnamon cocoa with that bow slung over her shoulder. She sure as hell wasn't going to call her 'mom'.

It was a relief when Mulan slowed down her horse's pace and climbed down. They had reached a break in the forest, which seemed odd. Emma had thought they would find a cave or a hollowed tree to spend the night, that or ride until her blisters had blisters. "This will do," Mulan announced, "We'll camp here for the night."

Emma nearly fell out of her saddle. Mary Margaret hurried over to check on her, but Emma just dusted her hands on her jeans and held her back. "I'm fine. Just missing my Bug is all."

"I wasn't a horseback rider as a girl either."

"Great," she said, the word coming out more dry than chipper. So this is what it felt like having a mother. It wasn't like she'd always thought it would be. If only she could turn off Snow White and just be Mary Margaret again. Of course that wouldn't really work since there was no way Emma could forget the fact that this was her mother here.

Belle and Fynn were already off of their horses and gathering their supplies from the saddle bags. "We just need to find some water and collect some firewood," Mulan said to all of them.

Emma stopped stretching out her cramped legs and stood up straight. "Uh, if we're hiding from ogres, shouldn't we maybe, I don't know, not start a fire?" She was still struggling not to picture Shrek at the word ogre. Something told her these guys didn't live in a swamp and sound like Mike Myers.

"Ogres are blind," Mary Margaret said matter-of-factly, "They hunt by sound alone."

Guess she missed that in the Creatures of Fairy Tales Guidebook. "Right, because that's something everyone would know about ogres." It's not like she was born her…okay, so she was born here but not really. She didn't know this place. Back in the good old U.S.A, ogres, witches and chimera's were all in books where they belonged.

Now everyone in the group was giving Emma the same look, the look of an outsider. Oh none of them looked at her with hostility, it was pity. She had seen both in her time, but this was the one she hated the most.

Mary Margaret tried to give her a reassuring smile. "Look, I know you're out of your element…"

"I'm fine," Emma said. No way was she going to be the helpless one on this trip.

"I know, but maybe you should just stay here while we get wood and water. Guard the campsite?"

"You mean the big, empty clearing?" She wasn't Henry. She was a grown woman. Maybe she was her mother in a biological sense, but no way was she going to treat her like a child.

"It's the safest place," Mary Margaret said, "We'll be right back."

Yep, she was being delegated to the thankless job of sitting on her ass and doing nothing. "Great," she said out loud, "I'll make sure the goblins and orcs don't attack."

She assumed she'd be left alone in the stupid clearing, but Belle didn't follow Mulan and Mary Margaret. She walked towards her with a waterskin and leather pouch. Fynn had been ready to go with the others, but when he saw Belle was no longer beside him he turned around to stay.

"Would you like some food?" Belle asked, offering up her leather pouch. There was some bread inside and what was probably dried chimera meat.

"No thanks. Chimera doesn't sit well with me," Emma said, "Don't suppose you have a hamburger though?"

"What's that?"

Emma just shook her head. "Never mind." Belle took out a piece of bread and nibbled on it a bit and offered up a piece to Fynn. "Look, you two don't have to stay here. I don't need a babysitter. I can take care of myself."

"I know," Belle said, "I just thought you'd like some company."

Emma looked down at the ground, not sure if she could believe her entirely. Maybe the girl wasn't lying, but she had to believe like the others that she was a fish out of water here. To think, this was supposed to be the world she grew up in. If there hadn't been a curse, she'd be a princess. A real princess with the crown and big poofy dress. She'd know about ogres, balls and everything about this place. As it was, she didn't grow up in a castle and she'd never even dressed up as a princess for Halloween.

"I suppose all of this seems foreign to you," Belle said.

"Just a little," she lied, "Though I doubt you could understand."

"Actually I do," she said, "I never thought I would have a life like this, though I always wanted an adventure. I was supposed to marry a lord, be a wife and raise his children. I never cooked or cleaned anything in my life, until Rumplestiltskin came."

"Well becoming a maid and getting sucked into Fantasyland isn't exactly the same thing," Emma reminded her.

Belle just smiled a little. "Clearly you've never been to the Dark Castle. It was full of magic and danger, it seemed to change every week. In the beginning, rooms would switch on me I think to get me confused. He liked to play with people like that."

"Still does," Emma said with a snort.

"Belle, I don't think she needs to hear about Rumplestiltskin," Fynn spoke up at last. He was a quiet man, Emma noticed. She actually noticed a lot about him, like the way his fists clenched at the mention of the sorcerer's name and how he always kept one eye on Belle.

"It doesn't bother me," Emma said. To be honest, she was kind of curious about what Belle had to say about Rumplestiltskin. She believed she loved him, how the hell had that happened? "How did you get involved with him to begin with?"

"He made a deal with me. My village was under attack by the ogres. He agreed to protect my family and my people if I went with him to be his servant."

Emma raised one brow at that notion. "You're saying he wanted a princess to be his maid?"

"I'm not a princess," Belle said, "just a lord's daughter. I suspected he liked the idea of reversed fortunes, the rich girl becoming a maid. He piled on a lot of chores for me to do, scrubbing floors, dusting, doing his laundry, even cooking and serving his meals."

"On your own?" Fynn asked, though the question really didn't need an answer. "Belle, you must have been terrified."

"Only at first," she admitted, "I don't think he meant any harm, he was just trying to make mischief."

"And hurt you," Emma pointed out, "He had to know how difficult it would be for you, no doubt he didn't give you any help figuring it all out."

"No," she said in a small voice.

Emma shook her head. Maybe Gold hadn't tried to hurt the girl physically, but did she realize how wrong this was? Not only did he take her away from her family, but he gave her a mountain of tasks to complete that she had no experience with all just foe his own sick enjoyment.

"I know what you're thinking," Belle said, "You're thinking he was wrong to do what he did, to bargain for me to be his servant."

"Duh," Emma said.

Fynn shut his eyes for a moment. "Belle, you have to see that what he did to you was wrong. You are a person, you were never meant to be bartered away like sheep."

"No, I was a sacrifice," Belle insisted, "I made the decision. It was my choice. And he never treated me like I was just some trophy of his. I admit, he was rude and could be intolerable at the beginning, but he changed. He wasn't my master, he was my friend."

Emma took a look at Fynn and saw he wasn't convinced either. Stockholm syndrome, she decided. That had to be the only explanation for why Belle was blind to these obvious flaws. Maybe they should bring her to Storybrooke so Archie could help her.

"I'm pretty sure you're the only person who would ever call the Dark One your friend," Emma said.

"Did you ever ask yourself why he became that way?"

"He's Rumplestiltskin, I don't need to know anything else."

"That's where you're wrong," Belle said, "I know it maybe hard to believe, but he is a man beneath all of that darkness. No one is simply evil, they become that way by pain and cruelty. I could tell he had been hurt before, probably many times until he grew to mistrust the very world itself and sought magic to protect himself. But all of that darkness as company left him lonely. That's why he wanted me to serve him. He wanted someone to take away the sting of loneliness."

Emma tried to see if she was lying, she really did, but no. She actually believed everything she said. Emma could almost buy it herself, except she knew Gold too. He shoved everyone away and worked hard to make sure he stood on top of them. He didn't want friends. He wanted to be alone. Maybe he'd loved someone once, or maybe he had lied to Mary Margaret and David before. She doubted Gold could love anyone, maybe not even himself.

"I'm going to go help them get some wood," Emma announced. She was never the kind of person to sit around and let others do the work, even if she was out of her habitat.

"But Snow White said—."

"I'll be fine," Emma said and held up her gun. "I've got this. No ogre stands a chance against me."

She thought Belle might follow her, but maybe the girl could tell she wanted to be alone. She didn't want to think about Gold and how she and Mary Margaret were going to have to trick her. Still, when she glanced back and saw Fynn putting a hand on Belle's shoulder, she wondered. Could there be a way to give this girl a new chance?

Belle helped Fynn put the tents up and arranged the bedrolls around a ring of stones they made for the campfire. They had done this chore hundreds of times. Phillip and Mulan had always had more experience with hunting and tracking, giving them the manual job of finding food and firewood. Belle and Fynn had done their part by setting up the camp and preparing defenses in case of thieves or other dangerous creatures. They often talked about books while the worked, but Belle was too distracted for once to indulge in her favorite hobby.

"Maybe we should go after her," Belle said. She had almost followed Emma when she'd left, but Fynn had talked her out of it. Besides, she suspected it was something she'd said that had sent her running.

"She'll be fine," Fynn said.

"You don't know that," Belle pointed out, "She doesn't know anything about this land, and even if she did, it's a lot more dangerous than it used to be."

"She wouldn't want us to come," he replied, "She's not the kind of person that wants to be dependant upon others."

Belle couldn't help but smile a little. "You mean she's stubborn."

Fynn let out a chuckle. "Yes. She's a lot like Mulan in that regard, determined and independent."

That was true. Mulan was independent, a trait enhanced due to her time as the only woman in a man's army. She could snap when someone tried to offer her a hand because she would feel like a failure if she couldn't do it alone. However, she had softened and once she trusted someone completely she would always accept their help and give it back in return.

Emma hadn't reached that point yet. Belle thought maybe she trusted Snow White, but was still processing the truth about her parents so she was afraid to admit her own concerns. Belle knew what it was like to be alone and scared in a place she couldn't understand, to feel like she had only herself to protect her from harm. But Belle had faith in people, she had hope that she could find support and protection with others, even when in the darkest place. Emma was afraid to look for support, even when she needed it.

"Do you remember when Mulan started that brawl?" Fynn asked her, a humorous grin spreading across his face.

"She didn't start it," Belle reminded him, "those two drunken fools assumed she was a tavern wench."

"Yes, well pulling out her sword certainly told them otherwise."

They both laughed over the memory and would have discussed it more had their revelry not been interrupted. There was crack that sounded like thunder almost, but shorter and sharper. Belle looked at the sky but there were no dark clouds gathering. The shock wore off quickly, returning logic in it's place. That sound hadn't come from the sky, but from the forest.

"What was that?" Fynn asked. Belle only shook her head in reply. She didn't know, but it couldn't possibly bode well.

There was a roar to the south and then the ground shook. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

"Ogres," Belle whispered and yanked her short sword out of it's sheath. Fynn took his crossbow out of his pack and carefully notched an arrow. It wasn't the first time they'd faced ogres, but they'd never faced them without the aid of Phillip or Mulan. There wasn't time to feel fear, not when the threat was so close.

It was two. Belle could sense the vibrations as they came closer, the steps out of rhythm. Ogres were blind, so they both tried to stay still and hoped they passed them by. Of course that only filled her with fear for their friends elsewhere in the woods. She held her breath and waited, hoping that the sound of her heart couldn't carry in the stillness.

The watched as one ogre stomped by them. He wacked down tree branches and left divots in the ground for his footprints. He never stopped nor made an indication that he sensed their presence.

His slower brother broke through the tree-line and started to follow him. Belle kept her grip on her sword and wished for some magic to cloak them somehow. He couldn't see them, but he could hear. They made no motion, no sound. They waited.

The ogre stopped, let out sniff in the air and then turned towards them. His large body tensed, his hideous face twisted into a snarl.

"Shoot him!" Belle yelled. The ogre charged towards them in that instant. Despite being so large, Ogres were fast. Fynn loosed the arrow, but it missed the ogre's eye, striking him in his shoulder.

The ogre let out a roar, stopping only long enough to pull the arrow out. He released another bellow before sprinting towards them.

There was no time to notch another arrow. Belle and Fynn could only run as he swiped at them with one, giant arm. They both dove out of the way, rolling along the rocky ground. "I'll distract him," Fynn told her, "You run."

"I'm not leaving you!" Belle shouted back.

"Find Mulan, Belle! Go!"

Fynn had time to notch another arrow and fired it at the ogre. There was no time to aim, so the shot went wild and only striking the beast's knee by some miracle. It gave Belle just enough time to climb to her feet and start running to the semi-safety of the trees. She only made it just to the tree line when she stopped. She couldn't leave Fynn to face an ogre alone. It wasn't in her to abandon anyone, not even to save herself.

Fynn had another arrow in his hands and was fumbling to get it ready in the crossbow. Just as he had it set, the ogre came stomping back. She watched as the ogre used a giant tree branch to swat Fynn away, taking him clean off of the ground. "Fynn!"

He landed in a heap off to the side, letting out a grunt on impact and then didn't move an inch. Her shout was enough to attract the ogres attention. He swiped at her with the branch, but she dove out of the way. She rolled just in time before he could pound her into the ground with it. The wood shattered on impact, splinters biting into her skin like tiny needles. Belle didn't let herself feel anything. She just got up and ran.

Her intention was to get to Fynn, drag him into the forest and find some place to hide. Her bad luck struck her after she took a few steps. She tripped over something, falling on her face so hard she bit her tongue. She tasted blood and dirt in her mouth, salty and bitter all at once. She spit it all out, forcing herself to a sitting position.

It was the crossbow. She'd tripped over the one weapon that could save them. She hadn't used the thing much. Neither her nor Fynn were much for combat and violence. She found it rather clunky and unwieldy, unlike her sword that Mulan had taught her to wield like an expert. However, Fynn had cajoled her into a few lessons so she knew how it worked.

Belle scooped up the clumsy weapon. It was heavy as she lifted it up, the weight of it threatening to ruin her aim. She only had one shot. So she waited. She waited for the ogre to rear its head in her direction, to stomp at the ground and charge.

BOOM! His step echoed across the meadow.

BOOM! Another step. Just one more. Her hands tried to shake but she wouldn't let them. One shot.

BOOM!"

She pulled back on the trigger. The spring shot out, tripping the wire and releasing the arrow. For a moment, she thought she'd aimed too high or that the ogre would turn his head. It was only a second, but it felt like a century as the arrow soared through the air and then finally sank into the ogre's eye socket.

The ogre collapsed onto the ground like a giant boulder falling from a cliff. It was her first kill. She thought she should feel remorse, but her father's words came back to her "Ogres are not men." That was true. This wasn't even an animal, just a monster. Not like her Rumplestiltskin who was a man beneath it all.

Belle tossed away the crossbow like it burning. Death was still death and she wanted no part of it. She'd come close enough already. She rolled over once and then pushed herself off the ground with her hands. "Fynn," she whispered his name.

She hurried over to him, dropping to her knees. She gently rolled him onto his back, smiling when he let out a groan. "Thank the gods," she breathed out, "I was afraid that ogre had killed you."

He gave her a grim, painful smile. "I'd never leave you, Belle."

"I know," she replied. It was true. He was her dearest friend, the one who'd stuck by her for so long. She didn't think she'd have made it this far without him. He'd always been there to help her when she was on the last bit of hope, the one who'd supplied her with books when she needed a distraction. She couldn't imagine what she would do without him.

"You're hurt," Belle said as she noticed the dark red stain flowering around his collarbone. She ripped away part of his shirt to see the gash set close to his neck. A few more inches and his throat would have been sliced open.

"The branch," he said.

"It's okay, Fynn," she replied. She hurried to the mess of their campsite to find the closest thing she could find to use as a bandage. It turned out to be one of Mulan's silk scarves, but she knew her friend wouldn't mind in such circumstances. She tied up the wound as best she could, but she knew he would need stitches.

"What the hell happened here?"

Belle looked up to find the rest of their companions trickling out of the forest. It was Emma who had spoken and was now gazing upon their ruined campsite. The dead ogre lay in the middle of it. Snow White was following her daughter, but what surprised Belle was that Mulan was sticking close to someone else in their group.

"Aurora?" Belle asked.

"Yeah," Emma said, "She followed us. Looks like we've got a stowaway."

That didn't matter to Belle. "Mulan, Fynn is hurt."

"Will he be all right?" Aurora asked. The others all circled them, but Mulan was immediately allowed through. She knelt down and pulled back the silk to see the damage. "It's not bad," she announced, "Aurora, get my bag. I'll apply some herbs. Belle, can you sew it up? You're better at stitches then I."

Belle nodded and leapt to her feet to get her own bag. It wasn't the first time she'd sewn up wounds. She'd been taught to sew as a girl and had applied the skill during the Ogres Wars before Rumplestiltskin had come to save her people. Mulan could do the job but not in the neat fashion Belle had learned from experience. She found her needle and thread she had carried with her in case, though she never cared to use this tool.

Aurora stood by and watched as Mulan packed the wound with different dried herbs, wetting some with her own spit. Belle never knew the origin of all of Mulan's medicines, but she had needed a few of them from time to time and could vouch for their potency. Once the wound was cleaned and the medicine applied, Belle set to work stitching it closed. She hoped it would be her last one.

Enchanted Forest: Three Years before the Dark Curse

It had been six months since Belle had discovered Regina had cursed her and her spirits had yet to return. Phillip and Mulan had sworn to go to Rumplestiltskin and tell him of what had happened, but Belle had known that would not work. They wouldn't be able to get past the gates as he only allowed those who he willed to come to enter his castle. Beyond that, Belle was certain Regina would have thought of that possibility. No, if she was to be with Rumplestiltskin then she had to find a way to break this curse first. Only then would she be free to be with her love.

So she stayed with her friends because she had no where else to go. It was better than being alone. Still, she wasn't the greatest of company. She hardly spoke to her companions despite the way they took care of her. Phillip always made sure her bedroll was closest to the fire and Mulan prepared every meal just the way Belle liked it, not matt how inconvenient it was. She appreciated their kindness but nothing worked. Even her books, her only method of escape, were dreary and old now.

The dagger the Queen had given her was still strapped to her waist. It was the one thing that fueled her anger rather than brought her down. She had no intention of using it to end her life. It only reminded her that she had to break this curse. She had to prove that vile woman wrong.

It was the sound of angry voices that stopped the travelers. These were not the voices of bitter, weary men, but the gruff, gravely tones of creatures more vile. "Trolls," Phillip said and unsheathed his sword.

Mulan took out her blade but Belle only had her dagger. She knew that wouldn't be enough to stop a troll. Mulan had asked if she wanted to learn how to use a sword, but Belle hadn't shown much interest in the idea. Now she wished she'd leapt at the chance. Phillip and Mulan would have to hold the trolls off if they attacked, it was their only option. Belle wasn't so keen on the idea of simple standing around and waiting for someone to take care of the problem for her. Tomorrow she would ask Mulan about learning to fence. She wouldn't be an outsider again.

Phillip led, walking so lightly she was certain he couldn't be walking on the ground. He stopped and listened then moved forward again. Finally, they were close enough to see what they were up against.

Three trolls, unwashed and ratty were going through a campsite. The tossed around cookware and other trappings because they had no value. Belle remembered reading of the greed of trolls. Gold, silver, jewels, and weapons are what interested him. There was a cart off to the side but no horse. Either the animal had bolted when the trolls arrived or it had already been made into a meal. The only other living creature there was a man, trussed up and gagged close to the wagon.

"Mulan and I will take the trolls," Phillip said, "Belle, you release that man and we'll meet you at the glade we passed earlier."

"I can't just leave you to fend for yourselves," she said.

"It's the only way," Mulan replied, "This isn't the first time I've battled trolls. We'll be fine."

She still wasn't keen on the idea of the tow of them facing the trolls alone, but at least they didn't admit that she was no use to them in the fight and regulate her to sidelines. She waited as they broke out of the bushes, weapons aloft to begin the battle. She needed all of the trolls to be occupied before she went to free the captive.

Mulan and Phillip were strong fighters, Belle could tell by the way they moved, but the trolls were not to be underestimated. When the ogres began to threaten, she had found every book on the creatures and done her best to find weaknesses, ways to destroy them, anything that would help. She now knew the primary diet of the ogres, their mating habits, even how they picked their teeth with hazel twigs. Later, she would find books about trolls so they would be better prepared if they ever encountered these creatures again.

She did her best to tune out her concerns before she raced from the bushes. She had to avoid camp debris thrown haphazardly around the site and troll weapons. Unfortunately, she tripped over a tattered, leather scabbard and skid on her knees beside the man instead of her more graceful appearance she had planned.

"Hello," she said, "I'm Belle, I'm going to untie you now."

He let out a muffled sound which she took to mean, "Thank you."

The knots were too complicated for her to figure out with a battle going on around her. She took out her dagger, still razor sharp as when Regina had given it to her. The blade sliced through the ropes like they were made of hot bread instead of cord. She helped the poor man pull the gag away so he could finally speak.

"My books!" he cried out.

"Your books?" she repeated.

"Yes, they were going to burn them. Hurry, we have to get them all."

That was all he needed to say. Books being consigned to a fire was certainly one thing that always raised her ire. How dare someone destroy any form of literature? The written word was one thing that separated them from beasts. Belle began to scoop up the volumes littered around her, hugging them her breast like they were babies instead of leather bound books. There were quite a lot. Not a whole library full, but more than she had seen since she'd left the Dark Castle.

They were both so busy gathering books, checking the covers and dusting them off that they didn't notice one of the trolls breaking free of the fray. "Hey!" he called in a gruff voice.

Belle froze. She could only run if she dropped the books, but she couldn't damage such priceless things. Besides, the troll was no doubt faster than her and she only had her dagger as protection. She and her fellow book gatherer could only watch as he came towards them.

A sword sliced through him from behind, his black blood pouring down his grubby clothes. When he dropped, Belle could see Mulan standing their with her blood stained sword. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"I freed him," Belle said.

"Why are picking up books?"

"The trolls were going to burn them."

"So?"

Belle gaped at her, clutching the books tighter to her chest. "We couldn't let them do that! They're books!"

Phillip came over, unharmed by the looks of things but also stained with troll blood. "Is anyone hurt?"

"No," the man said, "Thank you all for helping me. I thought for sure I was doomed to be a troll's dinner."

"We are happy to help," Phillip said, extending one gloved hand for a shake, "Do you have a name, sir?"

"Fynn," he said, "I am a scholar from Midas's kingdom."

"Are you coming from the university?" Belle asked. She had once dreamed of venturing to the university, combing through the endless supply of books, and learning from the land's greatest minds. Sadly, the school was only meant for men. Apparently women only needed to learn how to be a wife when it came to education.

"Indeed," Fynn said, "Unfortunately it wasn't too my liking. The instructors are not nearly progressive as they should be so I decided to travel to broaden my education on my own."

Belle smiled at him. "I think that is very wise. I've certainly learned a lot from my travels."

"You may join us if you like," Phillip said. "We were going to make camp. Perhaps you can share us your story and tell us what is happening in the kingdoms. We've been starved for news of late."

They made a fire, pooled together their supplies, and made a meal all while Fynn filled them in on what they had missed. Prince James was engaged to Princess Abigail, King Stefan was still fighting Maleficent to protect his wife and daughter (Phillip was eager for more on Aurora), and Queen Regina was still combing the forests for her stepdaughter, though the people still rallied behind Snow White. Belle cared little for the news about the kingdoms, though she was glad for Phillip's sake that Aurora was well. As the night wore on, Belle sat down next to Fynn as he assessed the damage done to his many books and asked about his story.

"There is little to tell," he told her, "My father was a lord for Midas and was always disappointed in his youngest son because I never cared for swords or glory. I only wanted books."

Belle smiled at him. "That's something to be proud of. Books are my favorite thing in the whole world."

"Mine too," he said, his hands caressing the spine of one leather bound treasure. "I went to the university, but I couldn't stand how backward they were. Their library was amazing, but knowledge is meant to be shared, not hoarded. So here I am, hoping to learn more on my own."

Belle nodded. "Well I'm glad we found you."

"So am I, you saved my life."

She laughed a little. "Yes, but what I meant was that I'm glad we met you. You seem like a wonderful scholar."

Fynn smiled at her, his cheeks pinking a little. "So tell me about you, Belle. What is your story?"

Her story? She did have one, that couldn't be denied. But she'd only shared it with Mulan and Phillip. A part of her had been afraid to after Regina had used her in such a way, but she could feel Fynn was different. He was trustworthy. A man who read books in such a way could only be wise.

"It's a sad tale," Belle told him, "Full of heartbreak and fear."

"The best ones always are."

She looked at the piles of books that rested on either side of him. She couldn't help but agree.

Emma woke up from one nightmare to the cold realization was she was still in one. She was not in the good ol' U.S. of A., but in the land of Happily Ever After, though it was lacking the Happy part at the moment. The moon was still full, though that did little to comfort her. The moon was a crescent in Storybrooke before she'd left. She didn't even share the same moon as Henry.

Everyone else was still asleep, but she didn't care. Her nightmare had been bad. She'd made it home, but Henry had completely forgotten about her. She didn't need to sleep anyways. She'd gone through worse before. She found a waterskin and took a drink, this time successfully not spilling it down her shirt. She missed the filtered water back home. Everything was just too weird here for her taste. And to think, she was supposed to grow up in this place.

She saw Fynn sitting off on a long with his own waterskin and his crossbow. Mulan was supposed to be on watch, but the warrior wasn't at the camp. Maybe she needed to use the ladies' room. It hardly mattered, at least Fynn was keeping watch.

"Hey," she said. He started a bit even though she'd tried to keep her voice low. "Sorry," she said.

"It's all right. Is something wrong?"

"No, just couldn't sleep. Figured I'd keep you company."

"That's very kind of you," he said. He kept a close eye on the ones still sleeping in the camp, but she noticed he lingered the longest on Belle. The woman was curled up in her sleeping roll, one hand pillowing her cheek. Nothing special, but he couldn't stop staring at her.

"So how long have you known Belle?" Emma asked. Might as well just jump in. She'd had an idea earlier about him and the young beauty, now was as good a time as any to give it a shot.

"Nearly four years now," he told her, "She, Mulan and Phillip saved me from being eaten by trolls."

"That's a hell of a greeting," Emma said with a grin, "you and Belle really hit it off though, right?"

Fynn nodded. "We have a lot in common. I'm a scholar so we both love books and we've both always wanted to see the world."

"Imagine that." Now time for the tricky part. "Yeah, but she's pretty set on Rumplestiltskin, isn't she?"

"Yes." She noticed how he flinched at the name. Good, he was jealous. She could work with that.

"She's said it's True Love, whatever that means."

"It is pure love," Fynn said, "Completely untouched by darkness, the purest and most powerful magic in existence."

"Yeah, I know the definition," Emma said. She even had some experience with it. It was her kiss that broke the curse, her love for her son.

"Look, I'm just going to get to it," she said at last, "I've met this Rumplestiltskin and let me tell you, that guy isn't capable of loving anything but power. He's a total bastard. I don't know why Belle thinks he could love her, but I'm certain she's wrong."

She'd gotten Fynn's attention all right. He didn't look surprised, more like…glad. "This is true?"

"Yeah," she replied, "And I can tell you really like her."

Fynn ducked down like a schoolboy caught giving a Valentine to his crush. "I…well yes, but I haven't…"

"Yeah, I got that. Here's what I'm saying, you'd be better for her in the long run, but she needs to be convinced that Rumplestiltskin isn't her happy ending. She's pretty stubborn when it comes to him."

"You're quite right in that regard," he said with some bitterness. Obviously this wasn't the first time someone had suggested she give up on him.

"So here's what I think we should do," Emma said, "I'm going to keep talking to her about him. I think if we can convince her that he's an ass then you might have a shot."

"That will be difficult," Fynn told her, "She's always believed in him."

"She can't live in this fantasy forever," Emma said, "And I think you're the guy who she deserves in the end."

He smiled softly at that thought. Yes, he had it bad. He needed no convincing when it came to winning Belle's heart. Belle would be another story. Emma had keenly observed his interest in her, but Belle she hadn't seen the same longing in Belle. Fondness, yes, but not even a spark of real attraction.

Well, this was a world of fairy tales. Surely she could craft some happy ending for these two.

Mulan and Fynn were trying to comfort the still grieving Aurora the next night. Tales of Phillip's bravery and honor went a long way in soothing the rage in the princess's heart. Belle would have joined them, but this was a chance to finally talk to Mary Margaret and Emma along. She wanted to know more about Storybrooke and how Rumple was doing there.

"Hello," Belle said warmly. Both women looked up at her, but only Mary Margaret smiled back. "Aurora will be all right. She's still grieving for Phillip. I'm certain she feels sorry for what trying to attack you yesterday."

"We understand," Mary Margaret said.

"As long as she stays away from knives from now on, I'm fine," Emma said, "And by the way, we didn't have a didn't have anything to do with that wraith."

"We know that," Belle said. She bit her lip before saying, "You said it was Rumplestiltskin who summoned it."

"Yeah, to attack Regina. He doesn't exactly fight fair."

No, she knew that well enough. "Do you know why he did it?"

"Said she lied to him about something," Emma said, "To be honest, I don't think he needed a reason."

"That's not true, Belle said, "Everything he does, no matter how trivial it may me, has some purpose. He always has a plan."

Mary Margaret look over at Emma. "That is true. Rumplestiltskin is a schemer, he never makes any action blindly."

"You weren't there on Valentine's Day," Emma muttered.

"What did he do then?" Belle asked.

"Beat a man half to death because he stole some stupid trinket."

Belle frowned at her words. "I know he takes theft seriously, but he wouldn't kill for it."

"How do you know?"

"Because I saw him let a thief go," Belle said.

Mary Margaret gave her a wide-eyed look of adamant surprise, but Emma only crossed her arms. "This I've gotta hear."

"He was going to steal a wand, but Rumplestiltskin stopped him. He was going to kill the thief, but I helped him escape."

"And he didn't punish you for that?" Mary Margaret gaped a her.

"He was," Belle admitted, "He was going to make me watch as he killed the man."

"See that's my point. He's a sick, heartless bastard with no conscience," Emma declared, throwing up her hands in victory.

"No, but he didn't do it," Belle said urgently, "He couldn't because he's not heartless. There is still good inside of him."

"Maybe to you, but to everyone else he's not Mr. Sunshine. He hurts people, sucks them dry of all they need, hell he even tried to steal Ashley's baby from her. Does that sound like a good guy to you?"

"You don't know him," Belle snapped back.

"I'm pretty sure I do. He doesn't have many other colors."

"No you don't," Belle insisted, "You've seen him when he's at his worst, in public where he has to be the clever dealmaker, the Dark One, in order to get what he wants. I saw him everyday for months. I ate meals with him, shared tea with him. I saw him when he was alone, no gimmicks or schemes, just himself."

Mary Margaret seemed interested, but Emma snorted at the notion. "Oh really? And what was that like?"

"He's capable of great kindness," Belle insisted, "like when I myself on the stove and he healed me, or when he gave me the library and let me read his books for hours and hours. Or when I chipped his teacup and he drank from it everyday after that, or when he let me—."

Emma's head had snapped up in the middle of her speech and now she cut her off. "hold on for a second and rewind. What was that about a chipped teacup?"

Belle blinked at her but nodded. "I chopped his teacup my first night as his servant. I thought for sure he would punish me, but he waved it off and insisted I serve it to him just as it was." She smiled softly at the memory. "I never feared him after that, and he always used it."

Emma was frowning again, but it wasn't with suspicion. No it was more like she couldn't believe what she was hearing. "White," she said, "with a gold trim and blue branch painted on the side?"

Belle nodded. "Yes, and there was a chip in the rim. How did you know that?"

Emma didn't answer her. Instead she looked back at Mary Margaret and saw she had an identical expression on her own face. "Oh my God," she said.

"You don't think…?"

"It's impossible, you said so yourself."

"Is it?"

"What is going on?" Belle asked, "How do you know about the cup?"

"Because I've seen it," Emma said. She sighed and saw down on a moss covered log. "On Valentine's Day, Mr. Gold—sorry, Rumplestiltskin, I mean—was robbed. A bunch of stuff was taken. I found it all except one thing, the thing he only really card about. He didn't wait for me to find it. Instead, he abducted the man and nearly beat him into a blood pulp. After I arrested him, I found him holding the object he was willing to kill for: a chipped teacup."

It took her a moment to digest the story. He'd attacked a man because he stole from him, but not just anything, the chipped cup. "My cup," she whispered, smiling just a little, "He remembers. He loves me."

"This doesn't make any sense," Emma said. She pointed one finger at Mary Margaret. "You said that the woman he loved what dead."

"That's what he told David," Mary Margaret said, "And you heard him telling Moe Frensh that he'd hurt her. That's how we knew the cup was the woman's."

"Yea, but the cup is hers and she's not dead."

"I don't understand," Belle spoke up again, "Who's Moe French?"

"The man who stole the cup," Emma said, " Older guy, grey hair, balding, blue eyes like yours."

Belle gasped. "That sounds like my father."

"Your father?" Mary Margaret repeated.

"Yes."

"If this was your father, that might explain what he was talking about you as he beat him up," Emma said, "He kept telling Moe it was 'his fault' and that 'she was gone forever' because of him."

Belle felt her blood run cold, the color draining from her face. It was all so obvious now, she wasn't sure why it hadn't occurred to her before. "He thinks I'm dead. He thinks my father killed me."

"Why would he think that?" Mary Margaret asked.

Belle didn't have to think on that question. It was all so clear now. Only one person would do such a thing. "Regina," she said, "She cursed me to keep us apart. She must have told him I was dead so that way he would never look for me."

That was why he'd never come. Why she'd never heard of him searching for her when she'd been so sure he would. A part of her had feared that he had given her up, but now she knew. He thought she was lost to him forever.

Emma shook her head at it all. "Wow, that is one hell of a fairy tale."

"We have to take her with us," Mary Margaret insisted, "Gold has a right to know she's alive, especially if he's been grieving for her for so long."

Emma looked at Belle for a moment and then back at Mary Margaret. "You're right," she said, nodding her head, "She needs to come. Besides, it's be nice to have him indebted to us for a change."

Belle hardly cared what they said. She was caught up in some many emotions: anger at Regina for lying to Rumplestiltskin, concern for her father for being accused of a crime he did not commit, but most of all a deep and abiding joy. Because now she finally had undeniable proof of the one thing she'd always known was true. Rumplestiltskin loved her. He loved her still despite the long years. Now all she had to do was get back to him. One war or another, this would be her final quest.

A/N: So Emma and Mary Margaret have finally realized the truth and are willing to help Belle reunite with her True Love. But now Fynn is confident in his own quest to win Belle's heart? What do you think will happen next?

Next Chapter: The gang comes face to face with the real obstacle here: Cora. Fynn continues to hope that he will have a future with Belle. And we get a blimpse of life in Storybrooke as Mr. Gold takes up the painful task of remembering why he sent the wraith and telling Moe French that Belle is lost to them forever.