Rumpelstiltskin took no notice of Belle when she entered. He was focused on his spinning. He didn't need to look up to know she was there. He was the Dark One. He knew everything. He didn't have to watch her as she moved about the room to know she was doing her chores: dusting, polishing, tidying… Women's work. That's why he took her to be his maid. Not because he liked looking at her. He didn't. He didn't have to look, he could see her quite clearly in his mind's eye. Not that he did. He could. That was beside the point. He took her because the Dark Castle was falling into despair – disrepair! – and someone had to spice – spruce! – it up.
Belle looked over at Rumpelstiltskin when she heard the spinning wheel speed up, only to be met with a glare. She was taken aback for a moment before she realized it wasn't her he was glaring at; it was the spinning wheel. Why would he be glaring at the spinning wheel? He was spinning so furiously the wheel was rocking as it rotated, and the gold thread that the straw was being spun into was spiraling through the air as though blown in a breeze. She straightened the items she had just finished polishing where they sat on display before making her way closer to him, stooping to pick up the length of gold which had been trailing away from where he sat and placing it with the rest.
Rumpelstiltskin looked up at Belle's approach. Why had she abandoned her duties? What was she doing bothering him? …Did she just smile? Why would she smile at him? He stared after her even when she had turned away and moved on to something else, not realizing that her interruption had cleared his thoughts and steadied his hand. He usually spun to forget things, but it seemed his maid could have the same effect on him, and in much less time.
Belle wondered at Rumpelstiltskin's reaction. She initially thought he had been glaring, but maybe he was actually squinting; the Dark Castle was rather poorly lit. Maybe it would shed some light on the subject if she brightened up the place?
In the blink of an eye it seemed Belle was perched precariously on a ladder leaning dangerously far across a curtained window, yanking at the fabric. Rumpelstiltskin rose to his feet and walked over, asking what she was doing. Her reply that Spring was coming and the window should be opened was followed by a tearing sound as the fabric ripped and Belle fell… straight into his heart – arms! – leaving him blinking at the surprise – sunrise! – sunshine! – Grr, why couldn't he think straight? He had to go spin some more. Vaguely he could hear her offering to put the curtains back up, but, for some reason he couldn't fathom, he told her not to bother. Let the sun shine in.