Of course, it had only been so long before everyone in Storybrooke knew of Rumpelstiltskin and Belle's wedding. Despite the wedding being a private ceremony, it seemed nothing stayed secret for long in the little town. That, and Belle was so visibly happy for the first time in over a year that it hadn't taken much to figure out the cause for her happiness, nor had it taken much for her to burst with elation and tell people. Not that Rumpelstiltkin minded, of course. Seeing Belle so happy had to be one of his favourite views in the world...
So it was not the fact that everyone knew that set Rumple's face in a grimace, a little distraction in his eyes as Belle spoke excitedly across the table at him, having hardly touched her burger –
"—According to Ruby, anyway. She seems to know more about it. I think it would be a good idea, it's sort of romantic, don't you think? And it's tradition in this world...Rumple?" The beauty noted her husband's distraction and he looked up sharply, smiling a little.
"Yes, erm...sounds wonderful."
Belle cocked an eyebrow up at him, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
"...You haven't a clue what I just said, do you?"
Rumple swallowed and looked away sheepishly, before relenting.
"...Sorry, sweetheart. I was miles away." He admitted, a hand absently coming up to rub lightly against his chest. The twisting sensation in his heart had come back...
Guilt. The word flashed in his mind before he could stop it, and Rumple knew it was true. No, he did not feel guilty for killing Zelena. He did not feel guilty for not being able to promise Belle that he wouldn't. Baelfire deserved to be avenged. He deserved to be able to rest. And, Rumple hoped, with the death of Zelena, perhaps he could finally seal away the dark of his past, to close that chapter of his long life and start a new one with Belle, as a new man. Perhaps with Zelena's death, the many, many vengeful characters of his past would cease to crawl from the woodwork and seek to harm Belle to hurt the immortal Dark One...perhaps she would finally be safe to stay with him, rather than a constant target through no fault of her own.
No, Rumpelstiltskin did not feel guilty for killing the Witch.
...He felt guilty for tricking Belle. The fake dagger she now carried in her bag, believing it to be real. The real dagger, of course, was locked away safe in his shop, with even more magic sealing it than before. The man would be damned if he let anyone cage him again. And whilst it had been the real dagger he had proposed to his love with, the real sentiments falling from his lips...the scar left by the Wicked Witch had cut deep. He did trust Belle...but he wasn't blind. If someone came for the dagger...they would be able to best Belle with ease and take it from her. Having the real dagger would put her in more danger than the already colossal danger of being associated with the Dark One.
More than that, he thought bitterly...he was terrified. Yes, he trusted Belle, with his heart and love...but the idea of anyone holding his dagger, after everything that had happened...it still set his hairs on end. He knew in his heart Belle would never use it to harm or cage him, but the broken part of his mind, in the last dark corner of his head, trembled at the idea of anyone having his dagger again...just in case...just in case...
"Rumple?"
Snapped from his brooding again, Rumple noted Belle's concerned eyes flicking to his hand over his chest. He laughed it off lightly.
"It's nothing. A little heartburn. Probably the food..." He said, earning a sideways glower from Granny over the counter. Had he not been sitting with Belle, he was fairly sure she'd have thrown the ladle she was holding at him. Belle did not seem wholly convinced, ever concerned for the man in ways he would never comprehend he deserved...but she didn't pry further for now, and turned back to her own food.
They returned home later that night, taking the long route home just as the sun was setting over the docks. By the time they returned to the house, they were both exhausted and Belle had sent Rumple up to bed with a smile when he had begun dozing off on the sofa. He lugged himself up the stairs and into the bathroom to set about changing into some comfortable sweat pants to sleep in when he noticed it. Pulling off his shirt and glancing in the mirror, Rumple caught sight of a mark over his chest.
Pausing in shock, the man stepped forward towards the mirror, his hand lightly tracing over the patch of golden-tinted scales that had appeared on his chest, right over where he had felt what he thought was a twist of guilt in his heart earlier that day... As his fingers trailed over the scaled skin, Zelena's voice echoed in his mind:
"No matter what we did, our outside showed exactly what was rotting on the inside."
The words sounded so clearly in his mind it was as if the Witch herself had stood behind him and hissed them in his ear. He gave a yelp of panic and turned...greeted with nothing.
Chest rising and falling in panic, Rumple turned back to the mirror, looking with disdain at the patch of scales over his heart.
Belle was wrong...the monster wasn't gone. It was just waiting, knowing Rumple wouldn't be able to resist the dark for long, knowing he would slip back one day, giving up everything for the sake of his son once more.
A knock at the door made Rumple turn from the mirror, and Belle's voice made his heart drop again.
"Rumple? Are you alright? I heard a shout and –"
...Tell her the truth. Tell her what you did. Tell her what is happening to you. Show her the scales. Be honest with her.
"I...I'm fine. Nothing to worry about, dear." Rumple kept his eyes fixed on the door as he replied to Belle, and failed to notice the little patch of golden scales on his chest spread a little further over his skin...