Disclaimer: I don't own Once Upon A Time or any of the characters and storylines in the show. This is just a fanwork made for fun.

The dungeon was very dark, the only window it had was locked of metal bars to prevent the prisoner to attempt escaping, although nobody would ever survive jumping through it, as the tower was very tall. Belle let herself fall on the stool in front of the spinning wheel, looking around with her heart tumbling in her chest at the sight of the piles of straw she was supposed to turn into gold.

Her father had always been a greedy man, but she never thought someday he could simply sell her like this, but the miller had lots of debts to pay and when they presented themselves to the king this afternoon he saw the perfect opportunity of freeing himself from them. Maurice told them a very fabulist story about how his beautiful daughter had a gift from the gods, being able to spin every piece of straw into gold, what was clearly a lie, but maybe to have a laugh of him, the king pretended to believe and locked Belle in the dungeons, saying she should make the gold during the night or she would be killed by the morning.

But Belle did not have such a gift, nor thought it could ever exist beyond her father's imagination. The wheel was useless and the straw would only serve to make her a bed in the last night of her life, because there was no way she would life for another day. Tears started to silently fall from her eyes as she though about her inevitable fate, when Belle felt a pair of hands coming up to lay on her shoulders and jumped in place, before turning around to the oddest being she had ever set eyes on.

He had reptilian eyes and scaled him, was a short, skinny man, very differently from the knights she used to see wandering around the kingdom, coming from the frontlines of the war. Of course, she knew lots of commoners who were drained by poverty, but he seemed pretty healthy to be just a poor starving person, the wicked grin that played in his lips an indicative of his well-being. And he wasn't human at all, his scales coloured in a strange tone; something between green and gold.

"Poor, desperate soul," the creature hummed. "What afflicts you?"

Belle wiped her tears away, watching as he took his hands from her, moving them to the wheel, tracing a finger along it.

"I am to be killed tomorrow morning if I don't turn all this straw into gold," she sniffled.

"My, my," he murmured with a small laugh. "I think I can help. I know how to do such a thing and would spin all this gold for you in a matter of hours."

Her chest was filled with relief. Belle still didn't know who or what he was, but if he could help her, then she decided that he was good. Maybe some weird kind of fairy-godmother, she wondered, or a kind elf, she guessed by the shape of his pixie ears.

"Oh, I would be really grateful!"

"You didn't let me finish," the man said a new kind of smirk spreading on his lips and this one looked slightly evil, which made her heart skip a beat. "I can do it, but for a price."

All the hopes he had brought fell down. Belle could almost see herself in front of the king in the next morning again, when he would call his hangman to behead her for her father's lies. She was a poor girl, had always been and if that creature though he could get anything from her, then he was very wrong.

"I have nothing to offer you, sir." Belle sighed. "I'm just the miller's daughter. We don't own any valuable thing. Actually, my father brought me here to pay for his debts."

For a moment she thought she almost saw some compassion shinning in his eyes, but then, he turned around, taking some steps to the window before coming back to her side, eyes fixed in her neckline, which made her want to cover every bit of flesh her blue dress exposed, even if it was very little.

"I think you do have a thing to offer me, dearie," he pointed out, daring to pick the silver pendant hanging from a delicate chain and stroke it between his fingers as he sustained her glance. "I want this necklace."

"This one?" Belle inquired, surprised. "It was my mother's."

"And I'm pretty sure she wouldn't mind if you exchanged it for your own life. You don't have much choice after all," he shrugged.

"No, I don't."

With a swift movement of her wrists, Belle took if off and placed the small thing on his palm, watching as he took an attentive look at if before sliding it to his waistcoat's inner pocket and offering her a grin.

"We have a deal," the man said, taking a seat by her side and picking a piece of straw from the floor. "Now, what is your name?"

"Belle," she answered, hesitantly.

He started to work with the wheel, moving his hands along it and making the straw became a thread of gold, which made her mouth fall open in wonder, knowing it must be magic that was helping him to do it.

"Beautiful," he commented after a second of utter concentration, "like you."

"What is your name?"

"You can call me an imp if you want to, but my name you shall not have."

She furrowed at this answer, but Belle didn't really care for knowing his name or not as long as he saved her from being killed, so instead she watched him working in silence, marvelled at the ability he had, how skilled his fingers were and a lot of questions popped up in her mind, but she didn't dare ask any of them, because she was too afraid she could say something that could offend him and make him leave without finishing with the straw.

So, the only thing she did was to stare and she looked amused at him for long hours before she fell asleep. Belle knew she probably should have fallen from the stool when her eyes closed and her body became rather flaccid, but she woke up laid comfortably on a corner. She blinked at the high lights of the morning and found herself surrounded by gold. The imp was gone, but he had kept his world.

Sitting up carefully, Belle rose on her feet and took a look outside the window, already anticipating her freedom.

One night in these dungeons was more than enough for her and she was ready to go back home. It didn't take much time for the king appear alongside with another two men, one which she swore was the hangman meant to kill her, but when he stepped in and saw all the gold gathered around the room, all he could do was gasp in disbelief.

"You really did it," he murmured, surprised. "It was truth then, you're really a gifted lass."

Belle smiled at him with relief, agreeing to the lie: "I am."

The king kneeled on the floor, picking the golden thread between his fingers and laughing happily just as if he had found he solution for all his problems. The men behind him were also appearing to be very astonished and they really should be, because Belle would have never been able do such a thing on her own, if she was going to survive it was because of her deal with that imp. She didn't know who he was, but she would be always grateful he appeared there.

"You need to make more," King George suddenly exclaimed, bouncing back on his feet. "Joseph, go fill a bigger cell with all the straw you find."

"No! We had an agreement, you said if I did this task you would free me," Belle remarked.

A grin passed through the king's lips as he nodded to Joseph to follow with his command and leave the dungeons. Belle swallowed hard. It wasn't supposed to happen, she should be able to go home now, be just the peasant she had been for her entire life and forget that her father ever even thought about selling her this way. But once again she found herself fated to obey and fulfil other people's wishes. However, today the imp wouldn't come and she would die.

"Let's make a new agreement, my dear lass." King George proceeded. "If you turn all the straw in this new room I have for you, into gold, then I'll give you a part of it, so you and your father can have a good life. But of course, you need to play your part and survive."

Worrying at her lip, she nodded, because he wasn't asking if she accepted this agreement, he was imposing it to her and she had no choice there. So, she allowed the prince, Gaston, to lead her to beautiful chambers and she ate the food a maid offered her, took a long bath and then wrote a letter to her father, telling what had been decided of her fate for now – not that she considered he really cared for what happened to her.

It was only when the night had fell that she was lead back to the dungeons, but this time to a really bigger cell with twice the amount of straw of the night prior pilled around it. When the door was locked behind her, Belle found herself hopelessly staring at the spinning wheel, however as soon as she sat on the stool wondering if she could simply copy the imp's movements and pray some kind of magic would work to make it become gold, he appeared, brought by a golden cloud of smoke, by her side.

"And here we are again," the imp said, rather amused. "I thought you were going to be freed."

"I was, but apparently your efforts last night were too impressive and the king now things I can make gold enough to buy new armours for each knight fighting in the Ogres' Wars."

He slid to the stool beside her, brushing his fingers against the soft curls of her hair as if they were the most interesting thing in the world, which made Belle blush furiously, because the wonder in his eyes caused her heart to ran faster. The imp, whoever and whatever he was, wasn't just interested in helping her live out to see another day and get another useless thing for his collection, but he also seemed to enjoy his view very much.

"Well, if you have something else to offer me, I'll be happy to spin for you."

Belle thought about this for a second, looking down her peasant clothes and taking off the golden band she had been wearing for really long now, before offering it to him.

"My mother's wedding ring," she explained. "Everything valuable I've ever had belonged to her."

He nodded in approval, taking the ring and pocking it before quickly start to pick straw from the floor so he could work on the wheel. A long deep sigh left Belle's lips at the realisation she was going to survive and maybe by the morning she would have gold enough to flee away from this kingdom and start her life in another place. But she was a little curious thing and today, she wouldn't keep her mouth shut as it probably was the last time she would ever see that creature.

"Why don't you want me to know your name?"

"Names are quite powerful things, dearie," the imp answered. "You won't give someone power over you if you don't trust them."

"So, you don't trust me…" she trailed off.

A small impish laugh left him.

"Not even a bit. But don't worry, I don't trust anyone."

The girl shook her head at him, then she started a long monologue about her dreams, about how she loved reading and rereading the few books she managed to buy on the market along her life and how she wanted to go away from there. He didn't speak much, only listened to her, but Belle found it to be a marvellous thing, because usually nobody was willing to listen when she spoke. Her father always thought reading was a stupid thing for women to do and that it only confused their minds, making them believe they could ever do more than they were supposed to.

But the imp, he smiled when she rambled infinitely about a hero's journey and how her mother was her inspiration and the one who taught her to read and write, despite of what others said about it.

When it was late and she was curled on the floor, on a stop near the window, he looked down at her for the first time in some long hours and said something she wouldn't soon forget.

"I think reading makes people smarter and I think you can go anywhere you want and do whatever you want, if you wish so."