The sun strained against the heavy cloth of the curtains, blurry shadows of light stretched out across the walls casting a blanket of hazy yellow at the girl that lay on the floor. Four small limbs were draped in a sheen of fabric that clung to pallid skin, long brown curls dashed carelessly about – the product restless night. A slim hand rested under her cheek, the other clutched the bodice of her dress.
Without warning the door creaked open to reveal the sounds of deliberate footsteps creeping over the threshold, the melodic voice soon after them –
"Wake up dearie! Come along, up, up up!"
Belle's lashes flicked open - the unmistakeable silhouette of Rumplestiltskin coming into view. She rubbed the haze from her eyes and tried to shake the confusion from her head, of where she was, of what had happened, finally resting her eyes upon the smirking figure in front of her.
"I trust you slept well" he chimed, the smirk turning into a malevolent giggle, fingers laced in front of his chest.
"Who...where?" The words slid from her mouth as though they were hardly words at all.
"Where, dearie, is in my house, a dungeon to be precise. As for who, well you can call me..."
He paused for a moment, pressing one long finger to his chin in mock deliberation
"...master" another shrill giggle.
Belle propped herself up on her hands before rising steadily, smoothing down her dress and pulling stray curls from her face. The events of the day before popped into her head in quick bursts, struck like lightning bolts, the memories rushing suddenly into view. They taunted her, appearing out of order and plagued by the obscurity of sleep; the moment she decided to give herself over, the cold air as she stepped outside, how the door groaned as she entered his house as if it knew of all the troubles to come.
"Your Rumplestiltskin" Belle recalled, her voice unsteady.
He tutted "Now now, there is power in names you know. We don't just go shouting them about." He placed his hands on his hips briskly "and anyway, I think I prefer master. It has a certain ring to it – don't you think?"
Belle sighed, "If you say so." She breathed her voice placid from a restless night, not fully engaging with the severity of the situation.
"And I do. Now come along dearie, dress yourself, my floor won't clean itself you know."
With that Rumple strolled back out of the door, leaving the dishevelled girl to fall back against the wall in exhaustion. Belle felt the cool bricks on the back of her head as she gathered her thoughts – surely this man couldn't be as bad as they say. With a sigh she rose again to ready herself for the day ahead.
It was past ten o'clock when she finally entered the dining room were Rumple was sat, drumming his fingers rhythmically on the oak of the table. Her appearance gained no hint of recognition besides the quietening of this drumming, fading out delicately until the room seemed to be flooded with the silence. Belle stood, straight backed, suddenly feeling terribly small against the immense furnishings, the high backed chairs and wooden cabinets, even the floor swept around her feet like a deep, murky pool.
"You're late." Rumple's voice rang out.
Belle pulled one corner of her mouth up apologetically.
"I'm sorry, Rum..." He frowned "Master." The words seemed to cling to her tongue, not wanting to be released. "I couldn't find any fresh clothes; I mean you never left me any."
Rumplestiltskin stood up and paced towards the cabinet at the side of the room, running his eyes over the contents proudly. The shelves were filled with bottles of all shapes and colours, each with its own label, each stood neatly in its place.
"Why did you not ask one of the others? Why come to me?" He sent her a quizzing loo before turning this attentions back to the bottles..
"Others?" her voice betrayed her surprise.
Hearing this, his eyes once again fixed upon her, resting for a moment before he took a few slow steps closer. Rumple's face contorted into a knowing grin.
"Ah.." He whispered, head tilted slightly to the side "You thought you were the only one?"
"Well no...I just assumed" Belle stammered, cut short –
"You assumed wrong, dearie." Rumple stated, studying her face, noticing how her eyes struggled to stay upon his, how her fingers were busily lacing and unlacing behind her back. That quick half smile slipped from her cheeks.
"Your disappointed." He took two more brisk steps, leaning in closer, closer as if to read every emotion that flicked over her skin. Belle bit her lip gently, not knowing what she was, disappointed, sad or anything else for that matter.
"Where are they?"
She spoke clearly under his unnerving gaze. Rumple giggled as if to jeer at her courage, or at some glimpse of the future, before stepping back a pace and folding his arms. Belle noticed how the sleeves of his shirt hung low on his wrists, at how his skin seemed to glint despite the darkness.
"Oh, about." He answered in a cavalier manner, hen sensing her next question, continued- "First bourns, bartered away, just like you." Rumple lowered his voice again "Everyone has their price, dearie."
Belle looked stricken at the thought.
"But surely children are of no use to you?"
"No, of course not. But then again they do make a rather delicious soup."
Belle gasped.
"A quip." Rumple smiled "You would be surprised what magic can do, dearie."