This is my first Once Upon a Time story, so I hope it's alright!

The story begins at some point in season one, before the curse has been broken, but after Rumple regains memory of who he really is.

I do not own Once Upon a Time or The Twelve Dancing Princesses. Enjoy the story!

Chapter one

The door to "Dance On," Storybrooke's small dance studio, creaked open, and the unlikeliest of people stepped inside; Mr. Gold.

"Show me second position" said the teacher, a skinny young brunette in a pastel blue leotard.

The class was made up of about eight girls of all different shapes and sizes, dressed in various colored leotards and tutus.

"And, plié" the girls, who were all between the ages of eight and twelve years old, gave eight, wobbly pliés. "Keep your back straight Patricia; it'll help you to balance," said the teacher.

Upon saying this, the smallest girl in the class shot up from her plié, "Miss Gilda!" She said, lisping due to her missing front teeth. The teacher looked over at her, "is something the matter Eliza?"

"What's Mr. Gold doing here?" asked Eliza, pointing a chubby finger at the man standing in the corner of the studio.

All nine pairs of eyes turned to stare at him. The color drained from Gilda's face, nervous whispering filled the studio. "Mr. Gold," peeped a little girl reading a class schedule "the men's class isn't until six!"

The class nervously giggled, some blushing with embarrassment at the mental image of the dignified, and downright scary pawnbroker wearing a leotard.

Mr. Gold's lips twitched with amusement, "I can't do ballet, dearie." He said, nonchalantly gesturing towards his cane, "how could I? I'm here to speak with your teacher."

The girls stared at Gilda, some gave her sympathetic glances. Gilda glanced at him and then turned to her class. "Take a break, girls." The students backed away from Gilda and Mr. Gold, then turned to each other and chattered nervously.

Gilda turned to Mr. Gold, "can we talk about this outside?" She asked quietly. Mr. Gold nodded and gestured to the door with his cane. Gilda took her long blue coat off the wall, threw it over herself and stepped outside.

"I'm late in paying the rent aren't I?" Asked Gilda,

"No" replied Mr. Gold, "but tomorrow morning you will be."

"I'm sorry" said Gilda, hands clasped, pleading with him. "I'll have enough to pay you after tonight's lesson; can I bring it to your shop tonight? At around 8 o'clock? Please?"

Mr. Gold appeared to think about it for a moment, and nodded. "I'll hold you to that." He said,

Gilda gave a very nervous smile and nodded, "thank you, Mr. Gold." She rushed back inside as quickly as she could.

"Alright, girls, break's over!"

Mr. Gold glanced at the clock, 8:30 he thought. Just as he was about to give up on Gilda and leave, the door burst open. "Mr. Gold!" She shouted, rushing over to him. "Thank God you're still here!"

He gestured to the clock, "You're late." He said.

"I know, I'm sorry!" Said Gilda apologetically, "I…I got into some trouble on the way here."

He surveyed the young woman standing before him; there was a large bruise forming on the side of her face. No kidding, he thought, a bit startled.

She frantically searched through her wallet and pulled out a fat wad of cash, "here's the money; all of it." She said, handing it to him.

Mr. Gold took it from her, "thank you very much." He said; as her sleeve fell, he noticed a long, fresh cut running down her arm. "What happened to you?" He asked,

"Oh nothing, just…fell down the stairs." She said, backing up. "Good night!" She shouted, before quickly running out the door.

"Good night." Mr. Gold muttered as it slammed shut.

Three days later

It was dark. Twelve young women, and twelve young men, in elaborate clothing danced happily together on the marble dance floor. They danced for hours, it grew very dark and stars began to shine in the night sky. All of a sudden, everything changed. The lamps that had been lighting the event simultaneously blew out; even though there was no breeze to do so. Shouts of "what's happening!?" and "something's wrong!" filled the room. One lamp, the one hanging from the center of the ceiling, lit of its accord, casting an eerie glow about the room.

"Oh no…" muttered the eldest princess,

"Princesses," exclaimed one of the men "you had all better leave now!"

The twelve women bid their escorts goodnight and were quickly rushed towards the opulent bronze doors. A plume of red smoke appeared, the princesses stopped in their tracks. As the smoke cleared, an impish man with strangely reptilian eyes appeared; leaning casually on the door.

"Oh, I don't believe anyone's leaving here tonight." He said, sneering at the terrified group standing before him.

Terrified silence engulfed the room for a brief moment, the youngest princess shrieked at the top of her lungs. "Run!" shouted one of the men.

The next few moments were a pell-mell flurry of skirts and screaming as the twenty four people rushed to get away from him. The reptilian man simply smirked, disappeared, and reappeared in front of the group in a similar fashion, scattering them in all directions. One by one all of the women began to disappear into puffs of red smoke. Shouts of "Seraphina!" and "Gisela!" Rang out through the corridors, until there was only one left; as if a giant, clawed hand had reached out and grabbed her she was pulled back down the corridor. She found herself lying at the feet of the very man she had tried to avoid. He said only one word to her; a name. "Giovanna." The name RUMPELSTILTSKIN flashed across her mind in fiery letters, and everything went dark…

"WAKE UP, YOU LAZY BITCH!" Shouted a voice, Gilda Mahoney's eyes shot open. She sighed with relief; thank goodness that was only a dream. She glanced at the clock, quarter to five, she thought.

Thump, thump, thump! The sound of heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway. A hunch-backed, crooked-faced man with greasy black hair, abnormally long teeth and big, crazy eyes burst into the room. "I SAID WAKE UP!" He threw what appeared to be a wine glass at her head and narrowly missed, having it shatter just next to her left cheek. Little pieces of glass shrapnel cut into her face and ears.

"Alright, Eddie, I'm up!" She screamed, standing from her bed. "Now what in God's name do you want!?"

He held a thin, clear bottle above his head. "You still haven't bought the brandy!" He roared, throwing the bottle to the floor and shattering it.

"I already told you, I can't buy your stupid brandy!" She shrieked, "I just paid the rent to Mr. Gold! So you're just going to have to go without your precious alcohol for a few days, you great man-child! If you're really desperate, you're welcome to my bottle of Listerine!"

"You, get out of my house!"

"Your house?! Every dollar that went into buying this place came from my-"

"Get out! And don't come back until you-"

"I was just leaving!"

And with that, Gilda left the house, slamming the door.

A cold night breeze drifted through Storybrooke; Gilda shivered. She sighed, it wasn't the first time Eddie had kicked her out of the house early in the morning. I suppose I'll go sleep in my studio, she thought, making sure the keys were in her jacket pocket.

She was paying no attention as she walked and, staring at the stars, bumped into someone.

"Oof! Sorry!" She apologized; she looked up and realized that it was Mr. Gold.

"Oh, hello Mr. Gold." She said quickly.

"Hello, Ms. Mahoney" replied Mr. Gold "Out for a morning stroll?"

"I could ask you the same thing" she said, with a hint of laughter in her voice. Mr. Gold did not appear to be amused. Gilda cleared her throat "In response to your question, no, my husband kicked me out of the house this morning."

Mr. Gold cocked his head slightly to the side and pointed at her left cheek "did he do that?"

She pressed a hand to her cheek; it was still bleeding. "Yes, he did" she said, as if it meant nothing at all to her.

"And the cut on your arm?"

Gilda sighed "yes, Mr. Gold, he did. I'm sorry I lied to you." She pulled her coat tightly around herself "Eddie; why I put up with that slobbering drunk I have no idea."

"Eddie." He said, as if the name meant something to him.

"Oh well" said Gilda, "even without Eddie pounding on my door, screaming at him to buy his brandy I'm a bit of an insomniac." She quietly added "the strange dreams don't help."

"Dreams?" Asked Mr. Gold, "what about?"

"Oh it doesn't matter!" Laughed Gilda, he continued to stare. "Okay" she said, "uh, they always have dancing in them, and this really strange looking man." She tapped her foot, thinking. "He keeps calling me this strange name. Um, I think it was, Giovanna; what a name!" She laughed, "Oh well! No point dwelling on it now! Eddie will probably wake up tomorrow morning, act all sweet to me, and not remember anything at all! He's like that."

"Yes, well, I'd best be going." Said Mr. Gold "good night, Ms. Mahoney."

"It's four o'clock Mr. Gold" said Gilda, "so, good morning."

She continued to walk away, and stopped in her tracks. That man in her dream, what did he look like? Without the gold scales and with different eyes… and what was that name that had flashed across her mind before the dream ended? "Rumpelstiltskin" she said aloud. She heard the scuff, scuff of nice shoes on asphalt suddenly stop.

She turned around, and let out a high pitched gasp. It felt as if she had been hit full force by a steamroller. Everything was coming back, quickly. "You are Rumpelstiltskin." She said, with amazement in her voice. Mr. Gold smirked, "very good," he stepped towards her "Princess Giovanna."


Thanks for reading! Reviews are welcome, but, please, constructive criticism only.

And feel free to take guesses as to who Eddie really is, some of you have probably figured it out! (PM me, and I'll tell you if you're right!) Here's a hint; there IS something to the name Eddie.