Hello! Welcome to my first Rumbelle fic. I have been reading Rumbelle for probably 4 years or so now but have not contributed any of my own works, though I have many ideas swirling around in my overactive imagination. I actually started writing this story about 3 years ago, but did not find it again until recently, hidden away in one of my many composition notebooks. The whole first chapter was already written, and today my muse was finally strong enough to kick me into continuing it. So after much fixing and updating after three years of sitting untouched, here it is, the first chapter of Tread Lightly.

Set in the Enchanted Forest during Skin Deep, after Belle goes out for straw. She does not meet Regina on the road here.

Warning: Mature themes, non-con, trigger warning; Read at your own risk. This will be a heavily mature fic.

Disclaimer: I do not own OUAT or any of it's characters.

Enjoy!

He let her go.

He didn't expect her to return. She was free. She could go home.

The funny thing was, she didn't want to go home. She missed her father of course, but when she thought of home, the castle where she grew up no longer came to mind. She saw only the Dark Castle, with it's empty halls and dusty rooms.

And him. The Dark One. Rumplestiltskin.

He was her home now. He may have imprisoned her at first and forced housemaid duties on her, but he was nothing but kind in the long run, if a little snarky and feisty at times. And she had come to care for him. She cared for him in a way she had never cared for anyone before. He was her light, however contradictory that sounded.

He was the Dark One, and she cared for him.

And he must have cared for her, or he never would've let her go. He released her, to go where she pleased and return to her father if she so wished. But she did not wish it. She wished to return to him, to his quirky grins and morbid quips. Because she cared for him. And he cared for her.

Belle smiled to herself at the thought, clutching the basket of straw tighter. He would be baffled at her return. He would be delighted that she decided to come back. She just knew it.

Excitement overtaking her, she quickened her steps. She kept to the edge of the dirt road that cut through the village, with small houses and shops lining either side. She refused to let any possible traffic slow her down, not when she was so determined to return to him as soon as possible. His possible reactions to her return flitted through her mind, what he might say or do, and how the night might end urged her on.

She didn't see the lidded eyes leering at her through a dirty window as she approached. She didn't see the nasty yellowed grin that promised cruelty.

She definitely did not see the rough, grubby hands shoot out from seemingly nowhere to grab onto her arm in an iron grip, causing her to drop her basket.

Before she knew what was happening, she was being pulled into a very dark room with a door slamming shut behind her. She screamed as she was pushed harshly into a cold, grimy wall. Huge calloused hands closed around her arms and pinned them at her sides. She felt hot breath in her face, and then there was a low ominous chuckling in her ear.

"Seems I've caught myself a pretty little wench today," growled that same voice, deep and husky and utterly terrifying. Belle whimpered as the stranger inched ever closer to her face. "What were ya doin' all by yourself, little lady?" he sneered. Glassy, bloodshot, and rather unfocused eyes pinned her in place.

Belle didn't answer, instead tearing her gaze away to wildly scan the room around her in search of escape. Her captor loosed that menacing, low chuckle again. "No voice, eh? Maybe I can fix that…" He pushed up against her, nearly crushing her into the stones at her back. The brute growled appreciatively as he pressed into her thin frame.

"Such a pretty face," he hissed, desire lacing his tone. Belle turned her head away sharply as he aimed an open-mouthed, wet kiss to her neck. Her face scrunched up in disgust and she grit her teeth, refusing to cry out. She would not break that easily. She would not show weakness.

She started struggling in earnest, arms thrashing at her sides, head tossing in an attempt to dislodge the unwelcome attention to her neck. "Let go of me, you bastard!" she shrieked.

This earned her a hard slap across her cheek. Tears sprung to her eyes from the sting, and a tiny trickle of blood trailed down her lip where she must have bit it. She moaned, dazed.

"Bite that tongue of yours, wench," the stranger hissed. Belle whimpered again, cheek aching. She sagged against the wall.

Then she felt his grip on her arms loosen. Was he releasing her? Hope flared in her chest but was quickly squashed as his hands trailed upward. She gasped when they landed without hesitation on her breasts, tearing her cloak open and groping at them through the fabric of her dress. The she heard a ripping sound, and felt cool air against her skin, shortly followed by those grubby fingers.

The realization that something devastatingly awful was going to happen, the last thing she ever could've imagine happening to her since going with the Dark One, sunk in. She couldn't fight this evil alone. She gathered air in her lungs and screamed as loud as she was able.

"Rumplestil-!"

A fat hand slapped over her mouth, preventing her from finishing the name she needed so desperately to hear her. "None of that now," said her attacker gruffly. "Can't have no one coming to save you." He grinned maliciously.

She could not call out. She could not call upon the Dark One to save her. She was all alone, trapped by a real beast.

He kept one hand over her mouth, while the other grabbed roughly at her breast. Belle trembled, praying to every god she knew to get her out of this unscathed.

She didn't know how much time passed before his hand reached for her skirts. Immediately her body came to life, fighting in one last ditch effort to free herself, to push him away just enough so she could wriggle out of his arms and run. But she wasn't strong enough. He was at least twice her size, all thick and burly muscle, and he held her still against him easily. She screamed into his hand as he ripped her skirts away and tugged at her petticoats. She tried kicking him, but to no avail. He tugged the petticoats away, quickly followed by her undergarments, and stroked a fat finger along her womanhood. She sobbed, shuddering at the unwanted intrusion. He hummed lustfully and resumed his attack on her neck, biting and dragging his tongue over every inch of skin he could reach.

The hand that had been touching her most private place suddenly disappeared, but Belle could hear the sound of a belt unclasping and fabric shifting. She shivered violently in repulsion as he pressed against her once more, his hard length pushing unmercifully against her womanhood. She sobbed, knowing all too well what his intentions were at this point and dreading every second of it.

He was going to ruin her.

Why is this happening to me?

With a heavy groan, he pushed into her, eliciting a blood-curdling screech from his captive. In retaliation she bit his hand, pain and disgust and unrelenting sadness at what she just lost racing through her. He yelled, and slapped her again.

"Dammit! Now you're really going to get it!" he growled, grinding into her hips and thrusting hard. His arm fell back across her mouth to prevent her from crying out. Belle felt like dying. She wished the floor would just swallow her up and toss her into oblivion.

This wasn't like the stories she read, where the dashing prince comes to the rescue of the princess on the brink of danger. No knight in shining armor was coming for her. She wept bitterly, going numb to the feeling of her innocence being torn away. Her captor's grunts grew louder in her ear. And to think that everyone believed the gold-skinned Rumplestiltskin was the monster. No, the real monster mingled among them, disguised in their flesh and clothing, lurking right beneath their noses.

Just when she thought she might pass out, he went rigid, groaning harshly. She grimaced at the feeling of wetness trickling down between her thighs. As he pulled away, arm still covering her mouth, only one thought kept running through her mind. I'm ruined.

Then, time started moving again in a blur, and the next thing she knew she was being tossed out into the street, dress torn open and exposing her bruised skin to the world. She slowly looked up into the cruel eyes of the man who destroyed her. He sneered down at her.

"Thanks for the good time, wench. Now run along back to where you came from. If they'll still want you, anyway." He chuckled nastily before disappearing back into the hovel, door slamming behind him. She was alone again. Alone and ruined.

She curled up into a tight ball against the side of the building, shrouded in shadow and away from prying eyes, and sobbed for all she was worth.

Minutes later, or hours, she didn't know, her tears finally subsided and she lay on the ground, exhausted. His name spilled from her lips as she fell unconscious.

"Rumplestiltskin…"

The Dark One found himself pacing the perimeter of his laboratory, anxiety clawing at his chest. The hour was getting late, and still his little maid had not returned. Not that he expected her to. He did free her of their deal after all. But he couldn't stop the tiny inkling of hope that she would come back to him.

As the sun set, he had settled into the bench at the window where she would read her books, keeping him company as he worked on his potions and alchemy, and watched the shadows lengthen across the empty courtyard. The minutes ticked by, and still she was nowhere in sight. But of course not. She wasn't going to come back.

With a sigh, he shook his head and stood, preparing to teleport himself to his wheel to spin all his regret away and hopefully forget her smiling blue eyes.

Then he heard it.

It was but a whisper, a faint niggling at the edges of his conscience. He stumbled in surprise, then quickly stood up straighter and tilted his head slightly, trying to grasp at it better. It came again, even more faint, and he felt it more than heard it, pulling at him in a way he could not ignore. Not that he would ever ignore her call. He would move the moon and sky for her if she asked.

Eyes widening in distress, he disappeared in a purple haze.

Rumplestiltskin found himself standing in a dark alley somewhere in the small village that his castle overlooked. He looked around, confused and concerned, before his gaze landed on the silhouette outline in moonlight by the wall. Tentatively he stepped forward, kneeling and reaching out to lay a hand on the form. "Belle?" It was dark, but he was just able to make out her features, the features burned into his eyelids whenever he closed them.

She stirred then, blue eyes opening and head turning to look shakily up at him. He stifled a gasp of concern at seeing the darkening bruise on her cheek and the dried blood on her lips. "Rumple…?" she whispered brokenly.

"Yes dear, it's me." He grasped her injured cheek gently in his hand, and she leaned into it with a shaky breath. "What's happened to you?" he breathed.

Her face contorted as memories washed over her. She let out a sob and lunged for him, arms wrapping weakly around his neck. "Rumple…. He-he…" She couldn't speak for the sobs wracking her small body. Rumplestiltskin rubbed her back soothingly and brushed his fingers through her tousled hair.

"Shh, love," he soothed. He pushed her back slightly to hold her by the shoulders and searched her watery eyes. She sniffed, but her sobs abated. "Tell me what's wrong, and what in the seven hells did this to you." He gestured at the slowly swelling right half of her face.

Belle bit her lip. She didn't want to tell him. She didn't want him to look upon her with revulsion and dub her a whore. But his eyes were so kind, and his voice so worried for her. She took a shaky breath.

"He ruined me," she whispered, almost inaudibly.

Then, "He ruined me!" she cried out, breaking again, and buried her face in her hands. Rumple froze. Did she mean…?

His grip tightened on her shoulders, causing her to look up at him again. She gasped at the unbridled fury rising and glowing in his golden eyes. "Who is 'he'?" he ground out through clenched teeth. Belle could feel the tension of magic crackling around them. She slowly turned to stare at the wooden door a few feet away, and then back at him again. She saw his gaze follow hers and lock on the door, as if he could burn the whole thing down by glaring at it. Well, he probably could.

"He…He's in there. H-he-it was so awful, Rumple. I-I…I couldn't call for you…I tried, so hard…" Tears continued their slow trek down her pale face as she broke off.

The Dark One was seeing red. He glanced back to the poor woman now crying silently in his arms, and then again to the door of the pitiful shack. The man-no, the monster behind that door had defiled his Belle, his Belle, and Rumplestiltskin swore to himself he would make that pathetic excuse for a human regret it. If he was still alive in the end to feel that regret.

Belle was leaning into him again, whispering something too quiet for him to hear. He forced himself to let some of the rage drift away, he would come back to it after he took care of his shuddering maid. He pulled her close mumbled sweet nothings into her hair. Then he teleported them back to his castle, where he set her down carefully in her bed. She immediately huddled into a fetal position again, whispering to herself.

Rumplestiltskin settled next to her and gripped her shoulders again, pulling her into a sitting position. "Belle, my dear, what are you saying?"

She looked up at him slowly, eyes wide and bloodshot in the glowing light of the fireplace. "I'm ruined."

Rumplestiltskin grit his teeth and looked her fiercely in the eye. "Don't you dare say that, Belle. That man may have taken something of yours which didn't belong to him, but you are not ruined." Then his eyes softened, and he cupped her face in his scaled hands. "I will never see you as ruined. Only as the kind, intelligent, beyond-all-comparison beauty that you are."

Belle gazed at him. He sounded so sincere. She slowly wrapped her arms around him and attempted to calm herself. She felt him return her embrace and she finally felt safe. He couldn't return her virtue, but he would protect her, forever.

An hour later, or three, Rumplestiltskin didn't know, he slowly extracted himself from his maid's now limp arms and left her to sleep away the horrors of the day. Before he left, he waved a hand over her delicate form, and her tattered dress was swapped out for a modest blue nightgown that had been hung up in her wardrobe, and her skin was cleared of any unpleasantries. When he was satisfied with her current state, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. Her mouth twitched in what he thought was a small smile as he turned away. With a deep breath and a change into his most intimidating leathers, he disappeared in a puff of violet smoke.

There was a man out there who had some answering to do, and entrails to be hung from the ceiling.

Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!

Next chapter will be out soon!