Belle gazed at her reflection, sighing deeply. The gown was a similar design to most of her ball gowns, only set apart by its pure white color. She supposed she should feel excited, it was her wedding day after all, but at best she could just muster up a half hearted smile. Gaston wasn't the last person on earth she would marry, but he wasn't the first either. She stomped down on that train of thought quickly. It wouldn't do to dwell on him today. Belle took a long deep breath, plastered that smile on her face, and turned from the mirror.

Her father was standing just beyond the door waiting for her. When she emerged and he saw her, he seemed to swell with pride. "You look beautiful, Belle," Maurice told her, taking her hands with a huge smile.

She tried to return his enthusiasm, to be happy at least that he was happy. "Thank you, Papa."

"I had come to fear I would never see this day," he said, and Belle tried to conceal her wince.

"Well, it's here," was the best she could come up with, and she gave his hands a squeeze while lowering her gaze, hoping he didn't notice her discomfort. All he'd managed to do was make her remember what, or rather who, had disrupted the wedding plans the first time around. The last thing she wanted was to have him on her mind.

"Yes, it has, thank the gods," her father said, oblivious as he often was. This time she was grateful. Maurice tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and they made their way down the corridor, heading for the main hall, for her wedding. He carried on, saying, "Gaston will make a fine husband, he'll take excellent care of you." Belle's teeth clenched involuntarily. He'd said much the same all that time ago, when he'd first attempted to arrange the match. Back when the biggest reason she had to refuse Gaston was that he bored her to tears. Not like now, now that she felt -

"I'm sure he will," she said, hurriedly cutting her own inner musings short. Her mind was running amok today. She'd been able to return to her old life so well, but today, today was different.

They approached the grand doors that would lead her to her new life, her husband, and she suddenly felt short of breath. Her hand tightened on her father's arm, and he glanced at her, still all smiles, clearly thinking her overcome with joy. She forced her lips into a smile that felt more like a grimace, but Maurice was opening the doors and then they were in the hall. There was a rustle as the gathered mass of people turned to watch their stately march down the aisle. Ahead was Gaston, already looking at her with a proprietary smirk she could see even from the distance. Belle fixed her gaze on her feet, trying to keep her breathing steady. She didn't know why her body was rebelling now, but she kept putting one foot in front of the other, breathing in and out, until after what seemed like no time at all, Maurice was pulling her hand from his arm, kissing her cheek, and laying her fingers on Gaston's palm. She raised her eyes, meeting Gaston's gaze. He looked at her the same way he always had, like a trophy, but now he had won.

Belle could feel her heart pounding, could barely hear the words the priest was speaking over the roaring in her ears. This wasn't right, she knew it, and she couldn't go through with it. She had to get away, had to put a stop to this whole charade. Gaston wasn't right for her, he wasn't her true love, that was -

This time she couldn't stop herself from thinking his name. 'Rumplestiltskin.' It was barely a whisper of a thought, and she had to close her eyes again.

"Well now, this is quite a to do!"

Belle's eyes flew open and she whipped around, convinced she had imagined that voice. But no, there he was, in all his leather clad glory. Rumplestiltskin stood just feet away from the not quite yet married couple, grinning in his most impish way, his hands steepled in front of his face, and his eyes fixed on her.

Her throat closed with too many emotions to count, but before she could even try to speak, Gaston, just has he had that first night, shoved himself between Belle and the Dark One. "How dare you!" he yelled, reaching for his sword, but a snap of Rumplestiltskin's fingers froze Gaston's hand just short of the hilt.

"Still more brawn than brains on this one, I see," Rumplestiltskin commented, his eyes sliding from the blustering knight to Belle. "He's clearly forgotten the terms of the deal you and I made. You were to come with me forever, and yet here you stand. Surely you understand my confusion."

Belle could barely keep her jaw from dropping. He was offering her the way out. He would take her back to his castle, away from this terrible mistake she was about to make. He was at his most theatrical so she couldn't get a sense of his real feelings, but the fact that he had come at all gave her hope. She looked Maurice, her poor stricken papa, and knew she'd have to find some way to explain it all to him at some point. But for now…

Rumplestiltskin had extended a hand, and without a second thought, she took it, and they were gone.

He had his back to her when they materialized at the Dark Castle, and he released her hand and immediately started walking away from her. "There are some clothes in your old room, if you'd like to get changed then we can -" He was abruptly cut off by something hitting him square in the back of the head. Surprised, he turned. Belle was standing barefoot, a shoe in hand, the other on the ground beside him, having just bounced off him. His eyebrows lifted in utter shock, but then he narrowed his eyes. "I dare you."

Belle flung the second shoe straight at his face. Of course he caught it just short of his nose, but she still felt a bit better. "We have a lot of talking to do."