Author's Note: I've gotten into the fandom that is Once Upon a Time. To narrow it down, I have a new ship: Belle and Rumplestiltskin. I don't own the characterizations in the show. I apologize if this one-shot is not the same manner as the show, but I tried! And no one can say otherwise!


It had been three days since she had last changed. Her gold dress in which she had worn when she left her father's castle was now speckled with soot, stains, and was now ripping at the hem. The precious silk could now be used for rags if she liked. She often wondered if he was going to provide her with a dress. Yet, every day since her arrival, when he ate his meal he would then retreat to either the west wing or the spindle in which he would sit and spin for hours. No mention of any dress.

It was not until the fourth day, when she was wandering one of the rooms in the forgotten wing (she called it the forgotten wing because of the desolate, unfinished rooms that she encountered) that she decided to take matters into her own hands. She had discovered a room with light colored draperies on a table. She assumed that, once, someone wished to redecorate the room with light tones. Instead, the person chose the long red Fleur-de-leis embroidered canvas…which made the room somber, like the rest of the estate. The light colored fabrics lay, forgotten, strewn on the floor and on the long table in the middle of the room.

Belle could not take her eyes away from one drapery in particular: a silk drapery, the color of a robin's egg. She moved over to it, her fingers reaching out and touching it, expecting it to be like water. She loved the feel of it, so smooth, so beautiful, so unlike anything else in this castle. Gathering the fabric into her arms, she quickly hurried from the room with her treasure, closing the door as she had found it.

She made her way back to the dining room, hoping that He would be there. She was pleased to see that he was, seated at the wheel. He was dressed in an outfit of black and red. His fingers were moving in time with the thread and the wheel. When she had appeared, he did not alter his gaze nor shift in his spot. It was as if he had not noticed her at all.

She deposited the silk on the table, quite loudly in fact. Placing her hands as a brace on the wood, she fixed her gaze on him.

"Sir," she asked loudly, "what is to be done with the forgotten wing?"

"It is to be forgotten," he replied without missing a beat. "It's not living up to its name if you remember it, dearie."

"I only ask because if it is to be forgotten about, it means nothing to you, correct?"

This caused him to stop his work at the spindle. His eyes were now fixated on her. "I take it that it means something to you," he then looked at the fabric on the table, "or, something in it means more."

"I ask because I found this fabric." She said, brushing her fingers over the silk. "It is the right amount to make a dress. Because this is your estate, and you have not provided me with clothes, if I were to take this fabric to make a dress … would this bother you?"

He scoffed. He got up from his seat at the spindle and made his way over to her. His hands pressed together in thought. "Is there a reason why you would want to make a dress out of drapes?"

"These are not… drapes… to me," she said, looking at him with honestly. "This fabric feels neglected. As do I. I have been three days and I still have not been given a proper dress to clean in."

His mouth turned into a wide, toothy grin. "I see nothing wrong with the one you have. You are a princess."

"Yes," she agreed, "but this dress is far too cumbersome, far too elegant. I may be a princess, but simple suits me best."

"And," he said, brushing his hand over the fabric now, "you know how to sew?"

"I have been taught by seamstresses in my castle. Think what you may about me, Rumplestiltskin, I am not like other ladies of my stature."

"Will you get the help of woodland creatures to get you thread and a needle? Will they also help you clean the estate while you are busy with your new hobby?" He was finding this funny and she was not amused.

"I can sew," she clarified, gathering the fabric up in her hands. "I will continue doing the chores that you asked of me to do…" Her lips pressed together for a moment, wondering exactly how to plead her case to him. "When I went with you, I took nothing from my home… nothing that can I could call my own. If the fabric means nothing to you, may I have it?"

He studied her for a long moment, taking in her plea. Then turning on his heel, he strode over to his wheel once more, sitting down with a flourish. "Then go, dearie, make your dress!" With those words, Belle turned and strode from the room, eager to start working on her gown.


Of course, she would be lying if the said she was a skilled seamstress. It was difficult at first, remembering what the handmaidens in the castle had tried to teach her. The first time she had a sewing lesson was when she was young and she requested to know how to mend one of her play dresses. Her father disapproved of her knowledge in the craft, but she welcomed it. She was certain that, in time, she believed any trade or skill would benefit her in the future. So, she continued to learn until she was able to make a new play dress. As she grew older, she made several more dresses. Simple, but wearable.

So, when she had finished her chores, she would retire to her little stone chamber (he still had not given her a bedroom, either), ready to start on her project. She would sit on the ground, a candle at her side, working away at turning the drapery into a dress. She made many mistakes, pricked her fingers, but it did not deter her in the slightest.

It took a few days to create the dress, embroider it, and add stays to the front. She needed a blouse as well. The fabric that she used for the petticoat of her gown would be perfect. So, she slipped out of it, tore it, and made a blouse from it. No one would know any wiser! There were no mirrors in her 'room', so when the dress and blouse were completed, she went out of her room in search of one.

She chose the first hallway she encountered, searching for a room with a mirror. Mirrors were quite difficult to find in the estate, mainly because they were hidden behind wall tapestries. She often wondered if the drapes were covered because of how he felt towards his appearance. Finding an empty bedroom, she entered it and searched for a wall tapestry to push aside to look at her completed work.

She was impressed. Not bad for someone who was working from the light of a candle. The lessons and the practices paid off in the end. As she continued to admire the completed dress, looking for any faults or any seams to take out and re-stitch, she felt a presence behind her. Her eyes caught sight of Rumpelstiltskin reflection in the mirror. He was leading against the door frame, his eyes fixed on her and his hands pressed together.

"Do you approve, sir?" She asked, continuing to admire the dress.

He said nothing. She turned and saw that he was gone. Was he even there at all? She looked back towards the mirror, taking one last look at the dress . All she needed was a good pair of shoes. The gold ones that she was currently wearing were scuffed and did not match the dress at all. Turning away from the mirror, she looked around to see what the room held. A white wardrobe was next to the window and she saw that it had a drawer. Perhaps the person who owned the room was a lady and there was a pair of shoes inside that were a color to match (and hopefully in her size).

As she opened the drawer, she was amazed to find a pair of white shoes. Taking them out, she removed her gold ones and slipped on the white ones. They fit perfectly. Shutting the drawer, she was curious to see what else was inside the wardrobe. When she opened the doors, she smiled when she saw her gold dress inside.

"This is my room," she whispered, closing the doors of the wardrobe.