Author's Note: Nervouslyposts story. Runs away to hide.

Warning: One naughty word, graphic description to consensual sexual activity, and illusions to a non-consensual situation and its aftermath. Written after seeing the picture of Zelena and Rumple kissing.

"Dark One, I command you to kiss me."

So Rumplestiltskin obeys (because he must) and tries not to think of anything at all while he does it. Zelena kisses like a conquering army; she plunders with her lips and her tongue and her teeth. He thinks of the color gold, of guiding straw through the wheel that stands a mere foot away, while Zelena presses her ample curves flush against him. She means to lay waste, to despoil him of his - hope - will.

But a touch of desperation lingers in the wake of her movements.

Rumplestiltskin knows the familiar brand of despair. All wretched souls, shunned for this reason or that, crave human contact.

Who cherishes a woman with green skin? What woman could every love a coward? A beast?

And for a moment, he can sympathize.

Then: "Belle, that's her name isn't it?"

"Yes." He spits the word from between his teeth.

"Tell me," Zelena commands, her eyes wild, her smile manic, "Tell me how she touched you. Your little librarian, too beautiful for such an imp, so petite I could snap her spine in two."

Rumplestiltskin would rather bite his own tongue off than surrender such hallowed memories to Zelena.

Rumplestiltskin bows under the curse and tells Zelena everything.

"The first time, I thought she had died... For years I believed - " His voice does not break though he can feel his soul dying - "We came together like a pair of youth, anxious and giddy."

And -

"Belle laughed, delighted, as she rode me for the first time. She slid down, tentative, sampling the power of her own body. She hung on to my hands, and than, she laughed for joy and kissed me hard."

And -

"Waking up with my thigh tucked between Belle's own, our bodies like spoons. Making love in the dawn light; Belle's back pressed against my chest, Belle's thigh hooked over my own. I stroke her clit as she creases her own breasts. I thrust into Belle from behind, still touching her. I bury my face in Belle's hair."

And -

"Belle's fingers, they dance."

And -

"Belle's mouth on my cock."

And -

"Belle speaks my name like it's a benediction."

And -

"Belle curls around me afterwards, and pillows her head on my chest. She holds me close."

And -

"Belle is my North star."

And -

"Belle guides my head to her breast when I am weary. Belle's arms are like a harbor."

"ENOUGH!"

Rumplestiltskin closes his mouth, his shame burning his face. He thinks he can see the shards of his soul laying at Zelena's feet. He will have to pick them up and carry them back to Belle ( if - when - he is free) for her to resurrect.

In the meantime, Zelena wields the dagger. She twirls it in her hands and magic bears them to her bedroom.

He is once more the village coward, looking for a corner to cower in.

"Please - "

"Silence, Rumple."

Zelena settles herself on the edge of the bed, spreads her legs apart. She had the look of the cat whose caught the canary about her. "Come here and kneel."

Silent, Rumplestiltskin obeys.

"Pleasure me like you would pleasure Belle."

Afterwards, Zelena orders him back to his cage.

Rumpelstiltskin flees from Zelena's bed to the haven of his spinning wheel where he slumps, his head in his hands.

He tries not to think of blue eyes, but he fails.

"I'm sorry," He whimpers, sobs rolling in his chest. "I'm so sorry."

"Out of my way, munchkin!"

Rumpelstiltskin trails behind Zelena; a dog at the heels of his mistress.

Belle's eyes seek his, imploring.

He looks away, ashamed.