Belle opened her eyes slowly, languidly, trying to cling to the last threads of a wonderful dream.
One in which Rumple -stiltskin that is, but in her head now just affectionately Rumple - her... employer? Captor? ...was something more.
She tried to recall details of the dream, conjuring up memories of gentle touch, laboured breathing and the sweet, deep tones of a more human voice.
The dream instantly faded from her mind when she was brought back to reality with a crash - or clash - of swords in the entrance hall of the Dark One's castle.
'You think you have the power to stand against me?' The object of her dream mocked whoever it was he was putting in his place. 'You fancy yourself a match for the great, rrrrrRumplestiltskin?' The way he rolled the 'R' in his first name made Belle roll her eyes. She knew he was still ultimately man, not monster, but wondered if all his years as the Dark One had rendered him irrevocably mad.
Still the sound of swords meeting almost rhymthmically continued.
She was getting used to it. The riddles, the spinning, the being awoken by sword fights and similar. Before she could stop herself she called out to him - 'Try to keep the blood off the carpet!'
There was an immediate pause in the action, in which she winced, worried that perhaps she had become overfamiliar with Rumplestiltskin. Did the Dark One appreciate dark humour?
Belle heard a muttered yet clearly vicious threat, before the front door of the castle slammed shut, and Rumple practically skipped into the room in which she had fallen asleep with a book.
Belle was propped up on one arm, lying on a chaise longe. He had clearly entered the room in a good mood, so she dared to raise an eyebrow at him.
'Apologies for the rude awakening, dearie!' he smiled his impish grin, clearly not sorry at all.
'It's your castle, you entertain your guests as you see fit.' Belle said, with a wry smile, stretching up into a seated position.
She did not notice Rumplestiltskin's eyes involuntarily track her movements, but when she stilled and her eyes met his, he cleared his throat and quickly moved his gaze away.
'Nothing to worry about dearie, just a warning to someone who... still owes me a favour.' he began to move towards his spinning wheel, to resume their normal daily ritual.
'I'm not worried' Belle replied 'You seem to let off far more people than you punish horribly.'
When Rumple abruptly halted in his movement, she wondered if she had crossed a line this time. She wasn't intentionally setting out to goad her captor, but she found it difficult to keep her spirited personality locked away, despite being physically incarcerated herself.
'Well.' he said softly as he sat by the wheel, still not meeting her eyes. 'Since you've come to join me, I realise the benefits of an abode that's not completely blood-stained.'
Belle realised he was referring to her earlier comment and that she was likely off the hook. She breathed a small sigh of relief. Belle admonished herself - she must not forget who she was dealing with.
Although, as she had recklessly pointed out, he didn't hurt all who crossed him, he did hurt some. He possessed the potential to be a very dangerous man. But still, not a monster, another part of Belle's brain clarified.
A moment more passed before Rumple broke the silence again. Just as Belle reopened the book she had dozed off in front of, he said 'So you're not worried, here? With me?'
Belle thought for a moment, then slowly shook her head. 'Not really. While I might not approve of the way you treat your 'guests', I suppose I don't think of myself as a guest here.'
She thought she must be imagining a slight blush on her master's glittering gold skin.
'That's good.' He said quietly, resuming the spinning and companionable silence.
'What do you know of other worlds?' Belle asked by the fire, pausing in her reading. She was forgetting for a moment that this man held her prisoner, thinking only of the vast wisdom that he held.
Rumple stopped spinning abruptly. 'Planning your escape to another realm, dearie?' He cackled but failed to hide a fleeting nervous expression.
'I don't p have the magic for that, as you well know - unless you came with me, which would rather defeat the purpose' Belle stated matter-of-factly. 'But no, I don't mean other worlds such as Oz, or Neverland, or any of the other real places I've read about in books. I'm think of other realities, where you and I and anyone else still *exist* but not quite as we are here'
'Go on...' Rumple encouraged her, suddenly intrigued.
'Well, in this book of physical magic it explores an idea - the many worlds hypothesis - which states that in a universe full of infinite possibilities, there is almost certainly another version of you, or me, of everyone - out there - somewhere, although we may never be able to reach them'.
Rumplestiltskin instantly snapped up from his seated position 'What other version of me could you possibly imagine?' He asked her.
'A version in which you never became the Dark One' she told him instantly, immediately fearing that he would take it as an insult.
He snorted 'Well, here we are, this is the reality we're in, dearie!'
'But do you agree that there may be others?' Her curious mind forced her to ask.
Rumple faltered, his mind suddenly thinking of all the infinite possibilities, other paths he might have taken in life. Other paths for Baelfire.
He jumped to his feet and marched over to where Belle was perched on an armchair, eyes still on the open book she held.
He surprised her by taking the book from her hands, suddenly, then surprised her even more by kissing her, roughly, on the forehead.
'Thank you' he said, his eyes sparkling with new possibilities, no room in his mind for embarrassment over his actions.
Belle stared at him '...for what?' she asked hesitantly.
He shuffled and quickly became shy once more. 'For giving me something to live for'
Belle almost gasped. Did he mean her? Of course not... 'What are you saying?' she asked him plainly.
He smiled thinly 'I'm saying, you might have given me the way to find my son.'
Belles eyes widened in comprehension.
'A version of him at least.'