Summary: Belle finds something in the guest room on the third floor. "Rumpelstiltskin! Take them off!" "That's what she said, dearie."

Dedication: Yup, so the continuation of this was a request from cynicsquest, who gave me some really good ideas. This is one of them. I hope you like it, dearie! (:

Disclaimer: I don't own Once Upon a Time, or The Red Shoes by Hans Christian Anderson.


Ruby Red

Belle had always been a bit of a rebel when it came to fancy parties and dresses and everything a proper princess should be, but that didn't mean she shirked her responsibilities. She'd put them off sometimes, sure, but she'd always find her way back to them… eventually.

She'd been at the Dark Castle for over a month and half. She'd cleaned the kitchens until they shined, swept the ballroom until the floors practically glowed, and dusted Rumpelstiltskin's collection nearly a thousand times over. She'd been through every room in the house.

Every room, except one of the guest bedrooms on the third floor, anyway. Down the hall, third to the right. It was a nightmare. She'd come across it her second day at the castle, when she was still taking a small tour of the place. She'd opened the door and nearly caused an avalanche with the teetering piles of books and knickknacks and other useless paraphernalia.

I'll do it when I'm done with the kitchens, she'd promised herself, walking away with a knot of dread forming in her stomach. When I'm done with the kitchens eventually turned into when I'm done with the ballroom, attic, dungeons, Rumpelstiltskin's bedroom, the main hall, the entryway hall, his laboratory, all the other rooms…

And now, here she was, finally making good on her internal promises.

She took a deep breath and yanked the door open. The mountain of objects hadn't moved. It looked almost as though it were daring her to take it on.

Here goes nothing.

And with that, Belle plunged into the room full of trinkets and baubles. Books fell from precarious perches as she weaved her way through the mess, and more than once did she trip over one music box or another. It was chaos, pure and simple. It would take days to get everything squared away and sorted out—

"Oomph!" Belle grunted as she tripped over a small wooden box standing in her way. She cursed softly at her clumsiness, narrowing her eyes at the thing standing in her way. It was dusty and rotting, very cheap-looking and falling apart here and there.

A small smile formed on Belle's face. Surely Rumpelstiltskin had better judgment than that. He wouldn't make just any deal for an old box. Unless, of course that old box contained something valuable. Belle felt herself reaching forward, aching to know what was inside—

And then she snatched her hand back and shook her head. No. She'd learned her lesson with that damnable amulet—and she wasn't so gullible as to fall for the same trap twice. It had to be dangerous; why would it be locked away and not just lying out in the open if it wasn't?

But then why would Rumpelstiltskin keep it out of it was so dangerous? Her mind cooed reasonably, and Belle felt her curiosity begin to burn.

Just a peek, she promised herself, reaching slowly for the box. Just a peek to sate my curiosity, and then it's back to work. Her fingers hooked under the lid and she lifted the top off with baited breath. Inside was a pair of… shoes?

Belle blinked.

Little red slippers the color of rubies. She picked one up and weighed it in her hand. It didn't look so dangerous. As a matter of fact, they were gorgeous, shining every which way in the dim lighting, the heel coming up about three inches off the ground. They reminded her of her mother's old dance shoes.

Belle turned them over in her hands.


Rumpelstiltskin was having a good day. No threat had been made on his life, quite a few deals had been struck, and he'd even managed to come away with a pretty bejeweled fencing sword from a pirate queen. Yes, a good day indeed.

The doors to the Dark Castle swung open as he waltzed inside, surprised when he found the Main Hall empty. Belle was usually dusting his primary collection right about now, or flipping through his countless books. Perhaps she was in the library. Yes, he thought, easing his mind a bit. She's in the library. It was like her second bedroom, that place. Why wouldn't she—

Crash.

"Oh my!"

The imp's head shot up as something—or rather, someone—came crashing down the staircase. It was Belle, her feet tangled in a ridiculous dance, sashaying her way down the stone steps. "I—can't—stop!" She panted, her feet twisting and turning in time with inaudible music.

Rumpelstiltskin couldn't help it—his signature giggle ripped from his lips and Belle's eyes shot up to glare at him.

"Don't laugh! Get them off!" The shoes nearly caused her to dip into a splits, and she caught herself at the last second by latching onto a dining room chair. "Rumpelstiltskin! Take them off!"

"That's what she said, dearie," the imp twittered. It was getting extremely difficult to control his laughter. "So I see you found the Red Shoes. I really thought you would've learned," he chuckled and shook his head, taking a few steps over, just managing to narrowly avoid her swinging limbs, "Curiosity killed the cat."

"Yes, well," Belle huffed, blowing a sweaty curl out of her eyes, "The cat will kill you if you don't fix this!"

Rumpelstiltskin giggled again. He probably should have been angry, or at the very least a bit more authoritative with the tone she used—let her know who was the master and who was the servant around here, you know. But the sight of her being forced to do the salsa was almost too much.

He'd procured the shoes from an executioner high up north, a peasant man with a dying wife who wanted a cure for whatever ailment had plagued her. He'd supplied the potion to save her life—in exchange for enchanted ruby slippers, slippers once worn by a vain little girl named Karen. Rumor was she'd danced and danced until she couldn't take it anymore, and the executioner's great grandfather had chopped her feet off out of pity. It was a horrific story, but apparently the only way to get the shoes off.

Rumpelstiltskin frowned—well, this simply wouldn't do. One just couldn't have a footless caretaker.

"Dearie, dearie, dearie," he chided, clicking his tongue and shaking his head. He snapped his fingers and sent a shot of magic her way, freezing her movements completely. She stood, still as a statue, midstep in some ridiculous rendition of the mamba, hands in the air, hips frozen in a sultry sway, one foot stuck high in the air.

The ruby slippers glinted.

"If only poor little Karen had called my name instead," he muttered with an eye-roll, as he grabbed one shoe and chucked it into the far corner of the room. He did the same with its partner. Another snap of his fingers, and Belle was animated again.

"What—" she paused, stumbling a bit at being able to move once again, her eyes widening. "What was that?"

Rumpelstiltskin smirked, walking back to retrieve the shoes. His eyes glinted in the dim lighting.

"Remember what I said, dearie. Curiosity killed the cat."


A/N: Thanks for reading, and please review! Oh, and if you have any requests, feel free to ask! (: Also, the genre of the story changed from humor/friendship to romance, because quite frankly I have no idea what to classify this as, and it's always good to go with the default, and plus, there'll be plenty of fluff, and I have things a bit… less humorous planned.