When You Wish Upon a Star

Summary: Belle French is no longer happy in Storybrooke, wanting more than what life has to offer. One night, a wish upon a star brings her to a far-off land where there are ogres, werewolves and other beasts. Thankfully, she also happens upon a wool spinner and his son, but acquiring a certain dagger changes everything. (AU)

A/N: Hello everyone! This fic is an AU where the Belle from our world enters Fairy Tale Land and meets Rumplestiltskin before he becomes the Dark One. To be clear, Belle is the only character that is in the real world; all the other characters are still in the Enchanted Forest. This chapter starts off a little slow, but it gets better! I hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Once Upon a Time.

Chapter 1: Wishes Always Come With a Price

Belle sighed as she heard the door to her library open. Normally she loved spending her days there, but today she just wanted to go home and rest. She kept her back to the counter, busying herself with the book cart in the hopes the customer didn't need to speak with her.

"Excuse me," a voice said, and Belle briefly closed her eyes. No such luck.

"Yes?" she replied pleasantly as she turned around. "What can I help you with?" She watched as the elderly woman's gaze flickered, staring at something on Belle's face without meeting her gaze.

"Oh, my. What happened to you, child?"

Belle sidestepped the question with a feigned smile.

"What can I help you with?" she asked again. The woman looked troubled, but pulled a book out of her purse nonetheless.

"I just came to return this book…"

It had been like that all day. People coming in and out had stared at her like she was an alien, looking at her face but never directly in the eye. When it finally came time to close, Belle locked up and pulled out her cell phone. Six o'clock on the dot, and as usual, her mother, Mirabelle French, was calling.

"Belle," she said once she answered. "You're going to have to bus home tonight."

"What?" she replied, furrowing her eyebrows. "But you said-"

"Change of plans. A few friends want to go out and have some drinks. I'll be back late. Leave dinner in the fridge for me, okay? I'll heat it up when I get in."

"… Sure, Mom," Belle said quietly, knowing there was no point to reminding her mother she had gone out for drinks every night that week. If her mother noticed the disappointment in her voice, she pretended not to, hanging up with a quiet beep. Belle cursed under her breath when she realized she had no change to pay bus fare.

Guess I'm walking home tonight.

Her high heels clicked loudly with every step. Had she known she would have to make the hour walk home, she would have worn more comfortable shoes. Belle loved her mother in the way a child has to love a parent, but she always made such terrible choices. Mirabelle was about to get married to a rich man, convinced he could make all of their money troubles disappear. Because of this, Belle watched, seething, as her mother turned a blind eye to all of her fiancé's late 'work nights'. She would go on and on about how the wedding was going to be perfect. The stress of the entire event, however, was getting to her. No matter how much Belle tried to help, Mirabelle's temper was shorter than normal. The later her soon-to-be stepfather stayed out each night, the more Mirabelle drank. Belle couldn't just sit idly by and watch her mother take a turn for the worst, so she tried to reach out to her. Unfortunately, she wasn't yielding good results, and her intended 'talks' quickly turned into heated arguments, and Belle could never seem to catch her at a time when her mother wasn't reeking of alcohol.

It only got worse as the wedding date loomed closer. It started small: Mirabelle would shake Belle's shoulders to get her to stop yelling during an argument. Eventually, she went so far as to shove her into a wall so she could walk away. Belle tried to tell her mother not to go through with the wedding, that this man was changing her, but Mirabelle's temper continued to escalate. Just last night, when Belle asked why she was willingly marrying a cheater, Mirabelle struck her. It was a hard, backhand blow that left the prints of her knuckles across her cheek. The most prominent bruise was the one left behind by the large, sharp diamond ring.

"Argh!" Belle growled out loud as her ankle rolled, the heel of her shoe breaking as she tripped over an uneven part of the sidewalk. She tumbled a bit, scraping her knee on the cement but managing to catch herself with her hands. She pulled herself onto the nearby park bench. The heel had snapped clean off; she couldn't walk home like this. She pulled out her phone again and dialed the number for a taxi, hanging up after being given an estimated wait time of fifteen minutes.

Belle spent several minutes in silence, only looking up when she saw a familiar car drive by. Her eyes widened – it was her mother on her way to the bar!

"Mom!" she called out, standing awkwardly with one leg standing taller than the other. The car slowed to a stop beside her, and Mirabelle rolled down the window.

"Belle? What happened?"

"My shoe broke – can you give me a ride home before you go to the bar? Please, I can't walk like this and cabs cost a fortune."

"Sorry Belle," she said, revving the engine. "I'm already late and our place is completely out of the way. Just pay the cab okay? One time won't hurt you."

"Wait - Mom!" she yelled as she drove off, stomping her foot when the Honda disappeared from sight. Her mother could be such a jerk sometimes. She threw her cell phone in anger, not caring that her screen shattered as it hit the pavement. She collapsed onto the park bench again, pulling a book out of her purse and hugging it to her chest. In her book, this is where the hero would come to rescue the damsel in distress. In her book, he would help her wherever she needed to go. In her book, there would be more to her story than a mother and a library… Belle tilted her head up to look at the stars; one shone with particular luminosity, and Belle closed her eyes.

I wish… Belle began to think of how life would be had she grown up differently. Perhaps with a caring father, and not an alcoholic mother. She thought of having the car and the house all to herself, her arms and face without bruises. She thought of having a person that would actually be courteous enough to drive her home as promised; she thought of someone who would hold her instead of harm her, and tell her she could be anything she wished to be. The images brought a smile to her face.

She felt her chest rise in contentedness, the happy thoughts enough to put her at ease and calm her down after the rather unfortunate start to her Friday evening. Belle didn't see the bright lights of the taxi as it turned the corner, or hear its honk. All she saw was light, and all she felt was warmth.

But then, Belle realized, the warmth faded and the light dimmed. She wasn't entirely sure when she had lost consciousness, but an extreme cold woke her, nipping at her ears and her neck. When she finally became aware of herself again, Belle sat up, surprised to feel twigs breaking beneath her. Her knee was still bleeding from the scrape, and her shoe was still broken, but she was somewhere else.

Where was she?

Belle dusted herself off, shivering a bit as she looked out over long fields of the greenest grass she had ever seen. Was she dreaming? She tried to balance herself despite her uneven footwear, but a foreign breeze fell upon her, and Belle pursed her lips when she realized it was much warmer than it should be.

She looked up, her eyes widening when she saw a large, brutish creature standing above her, its breaths loud and heavy. Her first instinct was to scream very loudly, hoping to alert someone of her peril. She kicked off her shoes at the creature, praying her heel would stab him and momentarily deter him. She ran as fast as she could; rocks and other debris were jabbing at the soles of her bare feet, but she ignored the pain and kept running. The creature was not far behind.

"Mom?" she cried out, hoping she was still nearby. "Mom, help!" Belle knew she was crazy if she still thought she was still in Storybrooke. Storybrooke didn't have nearly as many trees, or nearly as much grass. This thing was hot on her trail, and Belle was certain that if she weren't running for dear life, she'd be bawling her eyes out in absolute terror.

To add insult to injury, Belle realized she had chosen a foolish route and cornered herself; a rock wall stood before her, and to her side, a hill that was so steep it may as well have been a cliff. She whimpered quietly, pressing her back against the jagged wall.

She watched it as it clumsily ran through the trees searching for her; it seemed like the creature could not clearly see where it was going, often stumbling over something in plain sight. Belle held her breath and ceased her movements, turning her head away when it stood right in front of her, sniffing the air. Eventually, the giant monster turned around and walked back whence it came, and Belle felt her shoulders droop with relief. Her rapid heartbeat began to slow, and in her relief she sunk down to the ground.

"What the hell was that," she moaned. Belle waited for a long time, only standing when she was certain it was safe. The repercussions of running without shoes were unpleasantly evident now that the adrenaline rush had faded; every step she took stung like no tomorrow. She half-limped through the forest, trying to make as little noise as possible. She winced each time a branch broke beneath her foot or leaves rustled beneath her steps.

This had to be some kind of nightmare. Belle blinked hard despite the protest of her bruised eye, trying to wake herself up. The last thing she could remember was sitting on a park bench waiting for a taxi. Now she was in some sort of monster-infested forest.

Belle's stomach growled from hunger, but she didn't know this world well enough to even consider munching on a berry from the surrounding bushes. She was rather dismayed at her lack of survival skills, making a mental note to add more non-fiction books to her reading list.

"Come now, Bae," came a gentle voice, rustling nearby. "I still need to get supper cooking on the fire. Enough playing for now."

"I'm not playing," another voice responded, much younger and a tad defiant. "I heard one, I swear. A damsel in distress!"

"Well, perhaps a knight has already swept her off her feet," the older man suggested kindly. Belle peeked around a tree, relieved that she wasn't faced with talking animals or something. An ordinary father and his son were close by. They were talking about her; they'd heard her scream and they'd come to investigate. Belle squinted – were they carrying lamps fashioned from old candles? Hadn't they ever heard of flashlights? Her gaze traveled up and down their tattered clothing, looking like they had stepped right out of a movie similar to Lord of the Rings.

"I'll rescue a damsel one day, Papa, you'll see," the boy said, making his father laugh and ruffle his hair.

"I'm sure you will." Belle contemplated speaking up, but her encounter with that monster earlier made her hesitate. If there were creatures like that running around, who was to say these ordinary people wouldn't turn into demons or something if she startled them? All she wanted was food and a place to rest until she could try and find out what direction Storybrooke was in, so she followed them. She tried again to be silent, holding her breath and stepping lightly. Perhaps they would lead her to a town, and she could find a place to stay at the inn. She may not have any cash on her, but she had her Visa.

Just as she had hoped, the pair led her to a small village. She couldn't help but notice how dilapidated everything was; people didn't have houses so much as they had huts. There were no apartments that she could see, and the lack of street lamps had her squinting through the darkness. Hiding behind a small trough, she waited for the father and son to disappear into one of the smallest properties.

Belle jumped when she heard a loud 'baaah' coming from a small barn behind the hut. She knew she should find the town's inn to avoid any potential breaking and entering charges, but the cuts on her feet were clouding her judgment. Plus, by the look of the town, this place probably didn't even have an ATM. She didn't have to look at her feet to know they were bleeding from walking barefoot; she just wanted to lie down and rest.

So, Belle snuck towards the barn. She peered through the window, marveling at the lack of glass but also happy to see that no one was there. She was actually quite surprised the barn sheltered only sheep and no other animals, but honestly, she didn't care enough to question why. She quickly jumped through the window, ungracefully landing on a bale of hay. She spotted a ladder and, promising her tired feet that it would just be a little bit longer, she climbed up to the rafters. The ladder led to a small platform that held a rotting desk and two small beds made of hay. She knew that if it was set up this way, someone was already living there, and that meant she would probably get caught sooner or later.

Unfortunately, she had nowhere else to go. It was too late to try and ask local businesses for directions back to Storybrooke. She sunk into one of the hay beds, sighing as her muscles slowly relaxed into the makeshift mattress. Her eyes closed, the relief of being off her feet overwhelming and the events of the day catching up with her.

Rumplestiltskin remembered the days Bae used to run around the market, pointing to various stalls and proclaiming how wonderful everything was. Milah and him would trail behind, smiling at the one thing they had bonded over: their son. He would ask for a toy, but they were always too expensive to justify. He could use the money on extra bread for their meal, or an extra shawl to keep them warm in the winter.

Eventually Milah had confronted him about his frugality; he tried to explain that it took four hours of spinning to afford even the cheapest toy for Bae. She had never been quiet about their fights, so of course, little Bae had overheard. The next week at the market, his son, bless his heart, felt guilty and told them stories of how one day, he would make them proud. He would buy them all the toys they wanted when he grew up and became as rich as a knight. Of course, Bae's words made him feel ashamed and guilty that he could not provide his only child with even a small luxury.

Rumplestiltskin glanced at Baelfire, just a bit older now as they strolled through the week's market. Ever since Milah had been taken, Bae had stopped saying anything at all, settling to help his father stock up produce for the week.

"Papa, you look weary," Bae said as he handed coins to an elderly woman for a head of lettuce. "Didn't you sleep well?"

"I slept just fine, Bae," Rumplestiltskin assured him.

"Was it the ogre from last night?" Bae pressed anyway. "Were you worried about that damsel we heard?"

"No, Bae, I worry for us," he said, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. "We were lucky we saw the ogre as it was walking away. It shouldn't be so close to the town. The war's front line is miles and miles from here." His expression hardened as he thought about the ogre wars, bitterness making his lips twitch downwards as he limped. He stopped in his tracks when Bae turned, untying the satchel of coins from Rumplestiltskin's belt.

"I'll purchase the rest of the stock for the week," he told him. "Go rest by the river; I'll meet you there after I've dropped everything off at home."

"I'm okay to finish," Rumplestiltskin said, but Bae placed his hands over his own.

"Let me help, Papa. Please? Ease my worry for you and go rest by the river." Rumplestiltskin hesitated, but his bad leg wobbled, longing for rest after the hour they had spent walking.

"All right," he finally agreed. "Meet me at the river in half an hour, no longer."

At this time of day, the river was almost always deserted. The weekly market stole the attention of the townspeople, leaving the river peaceful for him and Bae. They'd made it a tradition of sorts to get up early on the market days and be there for opening. They would finish earlier than the rest of the town and spend an hour at the river completely alone. He was looking forward to the extra time Bae had given him to rest his leg, so he hobbled towards the river with a smile.

But then he hobbled right back, hiding behind a tree.

There was someone in the river! He snuck a peek, trying to see if he could identify the person: was it Shay, the housewife with three of four children sent to war? Or perhaps it was Tanya, the soon-to-be mother doing her laundry a day early.

The second he laid his eyes on her, he knew she was too beautiful to be from his town. She was sitting on the surface of a large rock protruding from the middle of the river, the edges of her sky blue dress damp from the water. He had never seen such garb before – her dress looked it was made of sheer silk, and it clung to her body in a way that he never knew was possible. It was also much shorter than he was used to; it stopped just above her knee instead of going all the way down to cover her ankles.

He realized with a fierce blush that he had been staring at her legs, and he forced his gaze to her face again. He squinted into the distance; the beauty looked rather sad. She had torn a bit of fabric off her dress and was dipping it into the river. She turned her head, and he swallowed a gasp when he saw her face. Dark, purple bruising wrapped around her left eye and trailed down to her cheekbone. She was now using damp fabric to wipe at her feet, which were covered in dry blood. What had happened to her?

He thought back to the ogre from last night; maybe there really had been somebody and Bae hadn't just been playing make believe. Rumplestiltskin quickly shed the thought; if an ogre had struck a woman of her small stature, she would not have survived the blow, especially since the blow was to her head. Upon a closer look, the bruising seemed more shaped like a hand: he was almost certain knuckle imprints were on her cheek, and long silhouettes of fingers crossed her eye.

Rumplestiltskin realized that he probably should make his presence known. If the young woman discovered he was hiding in the brush, he might give the wrong impression. He took one step out from behind the tree, his eyes widening when he saw a black knight getting off his horse. He'd been so lost in his thoughts he hadn't even heard him coming!

Of course she was meeting someone. She was probably some beautiful damsel that was courting a handsome and heroic knight. He turned on his heel to leave.

"Get away from me!"

However, that didn't exactly sound like the greeting of a healthy young couple. Rumplestiltskin turned around, still hiding in the foliage. He was particularly good at making himself invisible.

"Come, lass, surely you don't wear a dress that short and not expect the attention?" the knight chortled as Belle edged away from him on the rock.

"What the hell are you talking about?!" she yelled, and Rumplestiltskin blanched. He'd never heard a lady speak so rudely to a knight before.

"This dress goes to my knees, there are plenty shorter!"

"Not in these parts, there aren't," the knight responded. "You can't really try and tell me those bruises came from a loving husband, eh? Perhaps more a feisty customer?" Rumplestiltskin felt sick. Were these really the types of people that were glorified in fairy tales? This knight was corrupted, and he was clearly harassing the girl, who was already injured enough. He watched in silent horror as the knight grasped in a rather inappropriate area, lifting the hem of her dress.

Smack!

"How dare you!" the woman exclaimed after slapping him hard across the face. She seemed to realize her mistake fairly quickly though, because soon she was shrieking as he grabbed her easily by the shoulders and forced her to lay down on the surface of the rock.

"Hey! Hey you!"

Rumplestiltskin's eyes widened as he saw his own son practically fly by him, throwing rocks at the knight.

"Get off of her! What did she ever do to you?"

His jaw dropped.

"Move along, kid, unless you want to get conscripted to the ogre wars early," the knight growled. Bae threw another rock at the knight, and Rumplestiltskin snapped back to reality.

"Hey- that's- that's my mother, that is!" Bae yelled, stumbling over his words for just a moment.

Oh, Lord. Rumplestiltskin could feel the colour drain from his face as he hobbled behind his son.

"Bae," he hissed. "What're you doing, boy?"

"Come on, Papa," Bae replied in an equally quiet tone. "Damsel in distress!"

"Mother?" The knight repeated, immediately clambering off of her.

"Yeah!" Bae kicked Rumplestiltskin's good ankle, to try and get some support.

"R-r-right," he replied, weakly trembling a bit and leaning on his staff for support. "My w-wife."

The knight looked embarrassed for only a fraction of a second, but he climbed back up on his horse, head tilted high.

"You best get your wife some better clothing then. I mistook her for a common prostitute."

"S-sorry," Rumplestiltskin stuttered, and Bae sent him a glare before addressing the knight again.

"Don't talk about my mother that way! I'll report you if you don't get out of here!" Bae watched fiercely as the knight hopped on his steed and galloped away, only breaking the glare when he was fully out of sight. He ran to the woman's side.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Well, I am thanks to you," she said with a smirk. "You're pretty brave for your age, you know that?"

"I've always wanted to rescue a damsel in distress," he said proudly, his grin faltering when he spotted her bruises. "What happened to your face?"

"Bae," Rumplestiltskin scolded. She just laughed, waving a dismissive hand.

"Well I was certainly in distress back there. The knight, he ah, must have struck me. My name's Belle." Rumplestiltskin narrowed his eyes, knowing immediately that she had been lying. He'd seen those bruises well before that knight appeared, but he didn't say anything. It was probably better that she didn't know he'd been hiding behind a tree staring at her legs.

"I'm Baelfire," he said, puffing his chest out as he shook her hand. "This is my Papa, Rumplestiltskin."

"Wow, that's quite a mouthful," Belle said, reaching a hand out to him. Rumplestiltskin shook it warily.

"Thank you?" he said uncertainly. Belle laughed.

"You're doing an excellent job raising this one," she told him. "Back in my town people would have just turned the corner without stopping to actually help me. Maybe they would call 911. Chivalry and bravery are pretty dead over there."

"Call what?" he asked, eyebrows furrowing confusion.

"What's 911? Is that a person?" Bae asked as well. Belle looked between the two of them, arching a brow as though they were the strange ones.

"You're kidding. You guys don't have an emergency dispatch? I figured that was standard pretty much everywhere. Where's your nearest phone, then? I lost my way and I just want to try and contact somebody."

"Phone?" Little Bae looked confused, and Rumplestiltskin wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"I'm not sure what a phone is," he said. "But we can direct you to the nearest inn. They might be able to help you there."

Bae was looking at Belle's feet now.

"Where are your shoes?"

Belle had never met such kind strangers in her life. The young boy, Baelfire, was a ray of sunshine. She didn't have a place to stay, she didn't know where she was, or how to get home. Despite all this, the child could make her smile and ease her worries. She walked with them, matching Rumplestiltskin's slow pace due to all the cuts and bruises on her bare feet. He seemed quite wary of her – he was not as willing as Baelfire to trust a stranger. Whenever she glanced at him, he was always watching his son, pointing out things that he might trip over and being careful he didn't injure himself. His love for the boy was endearing.

Baelfire led her to their small hut, which she recognized from the night before. She didn't say anything, not wanting them to know she had seen them searching for her or that she had broken into the barn nearby. He pushed open the door and Belle saw Rumplestiltskin hesitate.

"Bae," he said gently. "What do you need from home?" He limped towards their door, but before he could enter, the child was running right back outside, holding a pair of small purple slippers. Belle couldn't help but notice how worn they looked, and how they looked nowhere near as comfortable as the slippers she had at home.

"Here!" Baelfire exclaimed, proudly presenting her with the used footwear. Belle's lips parted in surprise, and she spared a glance at Rumplestiltskin, who looked entirely uncomfortable with the situation. She decided to side with the father for now.

"Oh- no, I couldn't," Belle said as kindly as she could, holding her hands out in protest. Baelfire shook his head.

"You have no shoes, Miss Belle. Your feet are already bleeding again from the walk. You need these more than we do."

"Are they your mother's?" Belle asked. "Won't she get mad you're giving these away?"

"My mother passed a few years ago," the boy said. "I don't think she'll be mad."

Belle saw grief on Rumplestiltskin's tired face, and she just didn't have the heart to take the slippers, no matter how much she wanted to.

"It's very sweet of you to offer, Baelfire, but I couldn't accept these. They're too special to you both."

Rumplestiltskin took the slippers from Baelfire's hands then, and held them out to Belle. He was still frowning a bit, avoiding eye contact.

"Take them. You need them. There's an inn not too far down from here. You just keep going down this way until you hit the flagpole. Take a right, and you'll see the inn's sign on your left-hand side."

With the father's blessing, Belle accepted the shoes, gratefully sliding them onto her feet.

"Thank you," she said. She smiled but he still wouldn't look at her, so she leaned down and gave Baelfire a kiss on the cheek.

"You are quite a gentleman." When she stood up she kissed Rumplestiltskin on the cheek too, finally succeeding in making him look at her, his face going a bit pink. He looked like he was about to say something, but Baelfire spoke before he had the chance.

"Where are you headed?"

"Storybrooke," Belle answered, feeling a bit apprehensive when the town's name didn't register with either of them.

"Well, I'm sure someone at the inn will know how to get there," Rumplestiltskin said, once again sounding uncertain.

"Good day to you, Belle," Baelfire said. "I hope we get to see you again before you leave." Belle smiled.

"Good day to you too," she said, such manners feeling foreign on her tongue. "Thank you for all your help."

It felt wrong leaving them; she was on her own and she didn't know how to get back home. They had been kind, and they knew far more about this area than she did. She glanced over her shoulder, catching Rumplestiltskin's gaze as he gently shut the door to his hut. He had been watching her walk away – was he really that suspicious of her? Back home she considered herself to look like a very trustworthy person.

Putting on a brave face, Belle headed towards the inn, mentally repeating Rumplestiltskin's directions. She was grateful for the shoes they had leant her, regardless of how silly they looked with her dress. She would occasionally catch sight of people milling around outside their homes. Almost every woman that spotted her would look at her with disdain, their gazes moving up and down her form. Was her dress really that short?

Belle also noticed that there were no cars in this town, nor any bikes. She'd never seen an area like this before. How had she gotten here? She refused to believe that her silly wish upon a random star had brought her here; there had to be a more logical explanation.

When Belle discovered the inn, she felt an overwhelming sense of dread. She had no cash on her, and just based on the look of the village she began to fear they may not accept her Visa. But most inns and hotels only accepted credit cards, right? When she pushed the door open, she was surprised to be met with something more akin to a pub. Fortunately, it was so busy that no one spared a second glance at her in her apparently short dress and funny shoes.

She walked up to the bartender, uncertainly setting her purse down on the table.

"Excuse me, who do I talk to if I want a room?"

"Tha' would be me," the man said gruffly, setting down an empty beer mug as he surveyed her. "Rooms are upstairs, above the pub. Five pieces o' silver per night. 'ow many nights will yeh be stayin'?"

"Uh, two," Belle said uncertainly. He wanted pieces of silver? What the hell did that mean? She dug into her purse, shuffling through its contents before she nervously pulled out her Visa.

"If you put it on my Visa, I'm sure the bank will do the currency exchange. I'm not from here, so I don't have any of your currency…"

"Lass, why would yeh come to a foreign land and no' bring our currency? Are yeh from the forestlands then? Is that where they accept such silly monies?"

Belle didn't exactly know how to answer, but she had enough sense to put her Visa away. Forestlands?

"... Could you point me in the direction of a place to stay then?" she asked carefully. "A place that accepts Visa?"

The man shook his head, pointing to the door.

"If you ain't go' silver, you ain't go' a room. Please see yourself out."

Belle sighed, but she didn't see much of a choice. She left the pub, looking around and weighing her options. Where was she to go now? She didn't want to go back and disturb the father and his son. She didn't want to hide in the woods when there were ogres about.

Just as she was about to set foot in the direction of the barn she'd stayed in the night before, she felt a hand clamp tightly over her mouth and pull her into the alley.

A/N: So, what did you think of the first chapter? R&R for the next one! :)