A/N: Full of angst! This story peels back the layers and reveals the truth Rumpelstiltskin wants known in the "Beauty and the Beast" tale.

Setting: FTL, mid-Skin Deep and right after.

I don't own anything.

Keep calm and Rumbelle on =)

Of Layers and Truth

Rumpelstiltskin's grip on her arm was almost painful as he dragged her through the familiar stone halls. Belle had always doubted the monstrous tales she had listened to as a child. She knew his power, knew what he was capable of, but also knew from experience that he was kind. At least to her. Now she realized that those stories from her childhood were of Rumpelstiltskin's wrath.

He snarled as they approached the door. It flew open with a sickening creak. He pitched her across the floor, seemingly without a care. Belle landed hard on her hands and knees.

He had always, always been there to catch her. Every time she had tripped or stumbled, he was there to catch her. For him to be the reason she fell hurt worse than the broken skin on her palms.

She stayed in that position for a few moments, straining to hear anything. What was he going to do? Would he leave his castle? How long would she be locked in her 'room'?

She finally crawled to one of the corners. Feelings of defeat and helplessness drowned her. No matter what she could say, he wouldn't believe her. His rage was new territory now that it was aimed at her.

Belle heard crashing noises from above and wondered what if he was alright. She began to wonder many things. Would he do anything to himself? What would he do to her? Should she even try to form some sort of explanation or defense? She heard more clatter and through her tears she whispered for him to stop. To her surprise, he did.

It wasn't long before the tea tray appeared from thin air. She normally smiled when that happened, even blushed thinking of Rumpelstiltskin's thoughtfulness. Now she didn't know if she should drink it lest it be poisoned.

Belle replayed his reaction over and over again in her mind. Asking why would be useless. Asking for any explanation was laughable.

But why would it be defeat if his curse was broken? Didn't he want to be an ordinary man? In all the time she'd known him, he'd given little hint about his former life and hardly spoke of his present one. No, she wouldn't ask about him, but she would ask about herself. What are you going to do to me?

Still she doubted she would get a straight answer.

#####

After closing the door to the dungeon, Rumpelstiltskin walked a few feet then slumped against the cold wall.

"Love is layered," she had said. What did the mere youth know of love? It wasn't layered. It was simple. Love, true love, was sacrificial. And he had done that. He had let her go and it was the most painful relief he had ever experienced. At last he had acted selflessly for the person he loved. He had set her free. The deal was off. She was to live her life as she saw fit. It was his gift to her.

His loneliness kept him on track, kept him pushing toward his goal, but there were times it had nearly driven him mad. Belle had been a distraction. Exactly what he had needed though he would never admit it. He had never expected to love her, that wasn't the plan. But when she left it hurt more than he had ever imagined. Her absence seeped into his old bones and he ached. He thought once she was gone it would be business as usual. Instead of being productive, getting out and making deals, he found find himself staring down at the entrance of his castle waiting for her.

Rumpelstiltskin had been so consumed all these years with planning and deals and revenge, he hadn't allowed the loss of Bae to cause anything except fill him with a driving purpose. But when Belle left, an unbridled agony kept him from everything except existing. The pain of losing Bae was unearthed, the longing of being a normal man with a family roared in his dark soul. How could this woman, this mortal, cause such upheaval?

Rumpelstiltskin had hardly breathed as he ran down those infernal stairs. She had come back! He attempted to look casual and not caring. It was all he could do to form sentences as she walked closer.

Her eyes sparkled as he lost himself. His heart pounded wildly as he felt her breath on his lips and chin. Belle moved forward and he eagerly met her the rest of the way. Then his soul shattered. Never had anything felt so soft, so inviting, so right, so redeeming. Beauty kissing the Beast. There was such a feeling of being ripped in two, yet he felt so whole. "What's happening?" was all he could mutter. Rumpelstiltskin was so confused. All he wanted, all he needed was to kiss her again. But then her words settled into his mind. "Any curse can be broken." Beauty tricking the Beast.

Another pit to be dragged into. Everyone wanted him to be different. And he had been different for her. He had shown her he was willing to give her up so she could be happy, but apparently that wasn't enough. She wanted his very being to be sacrificed. Just like Bae. Didn't they realize he didn't want to lose his power? After decades of being powerless, of being bullied, of being lower than the dirt he walked on, he was free of that life. Yet both had built an altar and expected him to bind and burn his only source of freedom. They wanted a pure and humble Rumpelstiltskin. One that they could control.

This Dark One would never be controlled again!

He accused her of being entangled with the Queen. Or was it her own dream of being a dragon-slayer that had made her want to destroy him. Because undoing the curse would end him.

"This means it's true love!"

They want me broken. Bae had wanted a cowardly father. Belle wanted an ordinary cripple.

"Why won't you believe me?"

No more excuses, no more chittering questions. Rumpelstiltskin grabbed her shoulders and shook her. Shook her as if the ugly truth was just waiting to be spilled. Shook her as if to wake her so she could see what he would always be - no changing.

"Because no one, no one can ever, ever love me." They would never love him. They would only love what they hoped he would become.

He wanted to hurt her, wanted to ruin her, wanted her to burn as he burned. He wanted to pour all of his hate, all of his love onto her. So he locked her in her room, keeping her safe and away from him.

Glass sprayed into his face as the cabinet took the brunt of his anger. He hadn't known what he would destroy once he reached upstairs. In his defiance he had held up his hands and closed his eyes. Within seconds his old walking stick appeared in his hands. His fingers curled around the old wood. His grip was like a vice as he destroyed all he could reach. Around and around he wheeled the stick, embracing the stinging bits of glass that scratched his skin.

Immortality would never have the final word. Sorrow unmercifully aged everyone. As he threw down the walking stick, all those years of denied mourning and buried sorrow overwhelmed him. Rumpelstiltskin felt old and spent.

He took a deep, steadying breath and turned. His eyes settled on the tea set Belle always used. He didn't know how long he stood there staring at it, thinking of what it represented. All the times they talked over tea - she would tease and he would quip. Before he realized it, he had picked up one of the cups. Piece by piece he threw the set against a column. When he touched the rough edge of the chipped cup, it jolted him from his task. Something within told him to stop.

He ran his eyes over the cup, the pain still keen but the anger tapered. He would let her go while his wits were about him. If he waited what little courage he had would be gone. He would all too quickly lose himself to his temper again, hurting himself and no doubt her. He walked away from the table toward the mess he had made. It took only a few seconds for the cabinet to be restored to its former glory. It was then he realized that he had left Belle without provisions in her room. He lifted his hand toward what was left of the tea set and watched it vanish.

What a fool he had been that day in King Maurice's court. Instead of the blood of thousands of children, Rumpelstiltskin had demanded one living sacrifice. He should have just ended the war. One sacrifice in the name of any ogre war was too much. He should have done it for Bae... But he had felt entitled to some payment, some deal, some gain. He had won his son's life, only to lose it. It was only fair the King lose his only child.

He walked slowly down the halls of the dungeon. As he did, he reached out feeling the cold of the stone with his fingertips. This environment was so unfit for a princess. He stopped and looked at his outstretched arm. He lifted the other one as well. Grey-green yet golden skin, scales, black claws. His embrace...also unfit for a princess.

He flicked his finger and the door opened. Rumpelstiltskin noticed that she hadn't touch her tea. Poor girl probably thought he would poison her. He tried to remain as calm as possible, tried to be the imp she was used to putting up with. But looking at her face and seeing her sadness, he knew what he was about to do must be done quickly, for all their sakes.

"I don't want you anymore, Dearie." He couldn't look at her. She would know he was lying.

But he needed her to go.

"You're freeing yourself," he heard her say.

I'm saving you.

Brave little Belle looked up into his eyes. "You're a coward, Rumpelstiltskin." He made his face and heart stone. Coward, coward, coward. It had been centuries ago when his son had called him that, yet the pain was so fresh. How could they not understand? How could no one understand him?

"My power...means more to me...than you." It's who I am.

"You just don't think I can love you," Belle replied.

You'll only love me when I'm broken.

She turned and left. Belle wasn't coming back this time. She would go home, home to her father and no betrothed. If he hadn't felt like dying, he would have smiled at the thought.

When he heard the main doors open and close, he felt sick. Rumpelstiltskin clenched his fists and roared. It was the most guttural, most pain-ridden noise that had ever been ripped from his body. The mountains caught his scream and echoed it amongst themselves causing the dark castle to tremble, and Belle's heart mourn. The animalistic texture of the sound made her wonder if she should go back and check on him. But animals were most dangerous when they were hurt. She wouldn't be the hero again. It had cost her too dearly already. The only man she ever cared for hated her. Her title of princess was no more. Her father would never accept her back in his court. She would be considered unclean, unfit, used up, useless. Heroism had cost her everything. There was no glory after all. Glory was only an illusion, a tale for silly children.

#####

The weeks she had been gone Rumpelstiltskin had learned to breathe again. It was only because of Bae that he had even wanted to. Spinning hadn't helped. He could still see her bright face looking at him with such hope, speaking of true love.

"Are you angry with me?" The blackest soul of their land asked.

"Your little deception failed. You'll never be more powerful than me." If Belle really had been the Queen's plant. He had to believe it was a trick of some sort. The alternative was too painful.

"You can rest assured I had nothing to do with that tragedy."

He had eaten very little and assumed that was the reason he didn't understand her retort. It took great effort to make the words her majesty was whirling around his head to mean anything.

"So she needs a home?" Had he understood correctly?

The Queen scoffed and described Belle's fate. "...scourges and flaying..."

Lies! He inwardly screamed. Surely no father would be that cruel!

But it was the end of the Queen's story that made the lies so believable. Belle choosing her own fate. As she would always do.

"We're through." No more. I will hear no more.

The Queen left sickeningly cheerful. He walked to the other end of the room and took the chipped cup out of the cabinet. It was true. This was all he had left of her. As he set it out, Rumpelstiltskin wept.

Love wasn't layered, grief was. He hadn't realized it until now. All that was left within him was the core. Each layer had peeled back to reveal deeper pain. He collapsed to the floor, part of him hoping his soul would bleed to death.

With Bae there was earth to dig into. He had scrambled around in that pit like an animal, clawing the dirt thinking that surely his agony would warrant a reopening so he could be with his son. There was nothing to wallow in now. No hope to scratch at. No plan. No more layers. He was simply left to writhe in a pain he hadn't known existed.

#####

"It would be in your best interest to strike a deal with me."

There was no introduction. Everyone knew who he was.

Generations ago he had saved thousands of children from an ogre war. Out of the thousands, there had been but a handful of children who actually thanked him. Those who showed their gratitude held Rumpelstiltskin's favor. As the years rolled by, their grandchildren's grandchildren still held his favor. A few of those families had ended up in King Maurice's kingdom.

He went to one of the poorer looking cottages. They would stand to gain a great deal provided they told him what he wanted.

The father was out front in the garden when Rumpelstiltskin approached. The man knew immediately from all the stories and descriptions passed down in his family that the person dressed in dragon hide was Rumpelstiltskin.

"Yes, sir," he had replied.

"Tell me about King Maurice's daughter and what happened to her. Be completely honest with me and in return you and your family will want for nothing."

The man sputtered in surprise. It took him a minute to process what was happening. Leaning over he picked up his basket of vegetables. "Would you like to come in and sit a spell? I can tell you only the stories I've heard. But I will tell you every detail I know."

Rumpelstiltskin couldn't remember the last time someone invited him into their home. "Deal."

The man's wife offered him goat cheese, bread, and water. He surprised himself when he accepted. He was rather enjoying their hospitality.

Rumpelstiltskin listened intently as the man told him the tale the townsfolk were calling "Beauty and the Beast". Some were even making up happy endings.

"My little girl loves to hear how the beast transforms into a handsome prince."

Rumpelstiltskin choked on a piece of bread, but then grinned sardonically, "Of course she does."

It took him a moment to gather his courage to ask the question he dreaded most.

"What of the sad endings? When the beast stays a beast and the beauty dies."

Before answering, the man summoned his daughter who was playing on the floor with her doll. He kissed her on the forehead and told her to go pick wild flowers for the table.

Once he was sure the girl was out of earshot, the man put his head in his hands. "The princess is dead."

Though muffled, Rumpelstiltskin could hear each sickening word. It was all he could do to remain seated. The man lifted his head, his eyes were red with unashamed tears. "It is rumored that Belle's grave isn't far from here. I've never been able to find it. Nor anyone else, unfortunately. She was a good princess. She put up with a lot. Her father isn't the kindest king this land has ever known. But she was always kind." The man smiled. "At least she never had to marry that tall pig."

Rumpelstiltskin wished he could return the smile. He would burn the rose when he returned home.

"What happened to her?"

"It's been said that she simply appeared on the castle steps dead. I've also heard that she went insane and accidentally drowned herself. The romantics believed she died of a broken heart."

Rumpelstiltskin closed his eyes. "What else have you heard?" he barely whispered.

The man was reluctant to continue, but didn't dare stop. "A deal is a deal isn't it. Even if it's painful."

Rumpelstiltskin decided to spare the man from having to speak of the horrible fate of his princess. "Her father had her...cleansed."

"How did...?"

"It doesn't matter how I know. I just needed to hear it from a more reliable source."

"I'm a more reliable source?"

"Your family has been in my favor since your great-great-great-grandmother thanked me when I created a truce to end the ogre war. I spared her from a life of blood and death. Your family has lived with a dignity I wish would spread like a plague. The fact that you have been hospitable to me shows that you respect me as a being. You don't just fear my power."

The man chuckled slightly. "Well, I do. But my appreciation for your favor outweighs my fear." The two men looked at each other with a mutual respect.

"I heard that because of the cleansing, Princess Belle jumped. I don't know how, but that's the story we adults hear amongst ourselves. Still, what strikes me as odd is that no one can find where she's buried. Why would they hide her from her loyal subjects?"

Her father didn't even mark her grave.

Rumpelstiltskin stood up. He'd had enough. The man stood up as well and offered, "I'm kind of the town's historian. I have many other stories I could tell you. Even ones from other kingdoms! I would be glad to share any and all with you."

"One day, perhaps." Rumpelstiltskin walked outside and had an idea. He turned around and raised his hands toward the cottage. A ripple of power flowed over the area. The man now stood with new garments on instead of his old ones. He stepped outside and surveyed his new and grander cottage. He heard chickens and cows and pigs. His garden was big and full and ready for the picking. The man walked up to Rumpelstiltskin and grabbed his hand. "Is there anything else I can do for you? Anything to show my gratitude?"

Rumpelstiltskin gave his customary grin. "Well, there is one thing."

"Name it."

"Affixed to the back of your new home is a room with a printing press and various supplies. There's no point in only storing those tales in that 'heed' of yours. Make a book. Make several books. I do ask that in at least one of your copies, you tell the truth about Belle. Other than that, make as many happy endings as you desire." He paused for a moment, fighting the tightness in his throat. "At least in your daughter's version Belle gets a happy ending."

Rumpelstiltskin began to walk away when the man came around to face him again.

"What truth about Belle do you wish me to write? Any or none of the rumors could be true. The children have their versions. The adults have their speculations. What is the truth? I could even write about the conspiracies I've heard where Belle is alive but imprisoned. Or that she's in a different realm."

Rumpelstiltskin grunted his disapproval. Alive? No. He would sense her otherwise. And he may one day be in a different realm, but Belle certainly wouldn't be there. "Keep to your daughter's ending of the story. Belle deserves that much."

Agreeing, the man said, "I will write versions that will say she lived happily ever after. But I will also write other versions, however grim they may turn out to be. Maybe somewhere in the mix, her story will be told as it should."

Rumpelstiltskin could only nod.

"May I ask you a question?"

"I believe you just did, dearie."

"Why are you so interested in our princess?"

Does he really not know... "I made a deal with her once," he said softly.

"Ah. A lot of us got to go before her just the once. It was her 18th birthday and she had a ball open to everyone in the kingdom. All of us loved her, but after that evening we were smitten. We hoped one day after her father died we could declare her Queen."

And I stripped her of that opportunity.

Rumpelstiltskin tried to walk away again, but the man gently touched his arm, halting him.

"You never answered my original question. You told me to make at least one copy with the truth about Belle. Out of everything you've heard, what is the truth in the 'Beauty and the Beast' story?"

Rumpelstiltskin no longer had the strength to reign his emotions. He crumbled like the peasant he used to be. Tears poured down his greyish gold cheeks. He looked out to see the man's daughter picking flowers. The scene stirring him to think of what could have been. In another time, in another realm, in another world...

The truth wasn't in any of the man's stories. It wasn't a truth people would believe or would want to believe. But he hoped it was a truth Belle understood before she died.

Rumpelstiltskin's voice was strained as he spoke, "The truth...the truth is that the Beast loved Beauty...with all of his broken heart." He swallowed back a sob.

"And that's why he let her go."