(Oneshot. Based on a tumblr post. I don't own them, yadda yadda yadda. I like reviews that will help me improve my writing.)
Life went back to normal in the castle. He woke up. Got dressed. Had his meal and made his deals. Normal.
At least that's what he told himself.
He refused to admit that his tea wasn't as sweet as the one the girl had made. That the main hall looked like a catacomb with the curtains nailed shut. That the library was gloomier without her snuggled up in her favorite chair, devouring each book she could get her hands on.
Most of all, he refused to admit that he missed her.
He always referred to her as the "girl". Never by her name, fearing that he would feel the same pain at the pit of his stomach like the day the Queen had mentioned her fate as if it were a worthless village story.
He'd said her name once, only once after he'd placed the chipped cup in the back of his closet. His voice had broken, and tears trickled down his cheeks. Tears of loss and anger. Anger at himself for ever doubting her. For letting go of the only person who despite the monster he saw himself as, had managed to see a better man.
One late afternoon, as he strolled through the castle, he came onto her old room. Not the dungeon, but the one he had accommodated for her after days in his service.
"It's fine." He reassured himself as he took small steps towards the door. "It's just another room."
Ignoring the tremor in his hand, he gently pushed the door open and stepped inside.
It was like walking into a time capsule. Everything was as she'd left it before... Before I threw her out.
The bed was made and on the nightstand laid an open book next to a dried up rose.
The one I gave her.
He reached for the rose, crumbling the dried up petals, making him retract immediately. Instead he grabbed the book. A book of fairytales. The same she had carried with her around the castle, even though she had read and re-read it multiple times.
"It's my favorite." She had once told him in between eating an apple. "I like a good happy ending."
"Happy endings don't exist, princess." He'd said laughing from behind his spinning wheel, "You needn't look too far to find the proof of this."
Belle had thrown the apple at him and huffed in mock annoyance. "You're wrong, they do exist; wejust haven't found ours."
The sound of their laughter had filled the main hall and her smile had remained forever etched into his mind. Such an endearing smile and a lovely laugh. Like bells ringing from the nearby village in the afternoon.
Except those bells didn't ring anymore.
He pulled his gaze to her closet and slowly extended his hand, getting a firm grip of the rusting metal on the once radiant mahogany wood. A sweet aroma of vanilla and rosemary encased his senses as he swung the door open. His heart swelled with disappointment, the closet was empty. He was half hoping that a giggling Belle would emerge and tease him for not finding her sooner. Perhaps berating and re-teaching him the rules of hide-and-seek.
As he made to close the door a package caught his eye. Her gold dress, the only thing she had brought back with her from the castle, fell to the ground when he unwrapped the parcel.
His heart stopped. The book fell down, and he tumbled with it.
He held onto the dress, silent tears running down his face, splashing onto the open book. Her scent was still on it, after all this time, it was as she had never left. The wound was as fresh as ever. She was gone. It wasn't the kings fault. Not even the Queens. There was no one to blame but himself. In all the centuries following that fateful day he had never felt more like a monster than he did at that moment.
From his blurry vision, he managed to make out Belle's hand writing on the last page from her fairytale book. It only read:
I've found my happy ending.
Holding the book and dress for dear life Rumpelstiltskin, the feared dark lord, lay on the floor and let himself cry.