A/N: Thank you so much once again for your lovely reviews! Glad to see so many additions to the story alert numbers as well! Ooh! And well done to those who spotted the March Hare shout out in chapter one, after seeing Sunday's Mad Hatter episode I only wish I could think of a way to write the wonderful Jefferson into this story.

Enjoy the next instalment!

Chapter 3 – Friends and Old Memories

The carriage ride had been quiet, the Queen had told her not to worry and that she was safe now. Belle didn't believe a word of it. She wanted nothing more than to throw herself out of the black carriage and run into the woods, but she had seen the Queen's entourage and knew she couldn't possibly out run them in her current state.

The Queen had urged her to rest, but Belle couldn't fathom sleeping and leaving herself vulnerable while so close to the woman who'd just ordered the deaths of four men without a second thought. Despite this Belle felt herself pulled into sleep – however she was fairly sure it wasn't her own doing. The Queen had begun to hum softly and before she knew it she was out for the count.

The next time she woke up she was lying on a soft bed in a luxurious chamber room. The décor was themed with deep purples, glossy blacks and silvers. She sat up from her pillows with her mouth slightly agape – this was certainly not what she expected after being taken by her Majesty. She'd expected dungeons, chains and cold stone floors – not a room fit for a Princess.

As she stood up from the bed she suddenly noticed a change in her attire. Her dirty white night dress was gone and some one had dressed her in a soft mint green dress in her sleep. Belle couldn't help but feel violated at the idea of some one undressing her whilst she was dreaming – however the dress was lovely. It was comfortable, and not overly extravagant. The feel of it reminded her somewhat of the blue dress she'd worn in Rumplestiltskin's estate.

Rumplestiltskin.

Belle's eyes widened somewhat as the deal maker crept into her thoughts. Did he know where she was? Had he heard about her father disowning her? What would he do when he learned of her torture? Would he do anything at all?

Sadness washed over her as she remembered their final exchange.

"I don't want you anymore dearie,"

The words broke her heart. She hadn't wanted to believe it at the time, but perhaps it was true. Rumplestiltskin would do nothing because he did not love her – the Queen was wasting her time, and when she realised that Belle wasn't sure what would become of her. A knock on the door broke Belle's train of thought.

"Y-yes? Who is it?" Belle tried to sound more confident than she felt.

The door creaked open slowly and in walked the tall man with the sword from before. Belle felt her body tense as she remembered the screams of the clerics as they'd exited the tower. The man in front of her looked so detached from the awful things he'd done, but his movements were tired as if he'd rather be anywhere else in the world. What was it the Queen had called him? Her Huntsman?

"The Queen requests you dine with her," He instructed.

Belle looked hesitant, "And if I refuse?"

The Huntsman gave a slight sigh, "I don't recommend it,"

"You forget I spent a year as Rumplestiltskin's prisoner – Your Queen doesn't scare me," Belle placed her hands on her hips defiantly.

"Prisoner?" The Huntsman chuckled, "I don't mean to be rude Miss but I think we both know you were more to him than just a girl he let rot in his dungeon. You're the only person Rumplestiltskin has ever broken a deal with – unfortunately for you this fascinates the Queen. She wants to know what makes you so special,"

"So she can use it against him?"

The Huntsman nodded, "Look I know you're scared-"

"I'm not scared," Belle snapped.

The Huntsman scoffed, "Yeah. Right. Of course you're not. Anyway, if you don't want to make your situation any worse I suggest you just do as the Queen asks. She's not a woman who takes no for an answer,"

Belle frowned as in her heart she knew the man was right, upsetting the Queen would get her no where fast. Defiance may not be the best plan of action.

"Fine," Belle walked over to him, "Let's get this over with,"

The brunette followed him down a long corridor, mirrors lining the walls at every turn. Belle was a little surprised as she saw her own reflection; after all she had spent months being forbidden from looking in one. She hadn't quite understood why Rumplestiltskin hated mirrors so much, at first she thought he may be ashamed of his appearance but she soon realised this was untrue as he began to yell at a mirror after their kiss. He had been talking to the Queen, some how she was able to keep track of people through mirrors. It explained the eerie feeling that crept over her as she passed each one, as if someone where watching her.

Two guards dressed in black armour opened a pair of large doors in front of Belle and the Huntsman, revealing the Queen's dining room. It wasn't a particularly large room as it was evident the Queen didn't do a lot of entertaining.

"Just in time for dinner," The Queen smiled from the dining table, "Come my dear, have a seat,"

Belle moved cautiously from the Huntsman's side and took a seat at the dining table. A plate was already laid out for her with a cut of chicken breast, some vegetables and some bread with butter.

"That will be all Huntsman," The Queen waved away the man, who bowed before leaving the two women alone to their meals.

"You poor child, you must be starving after your ordeal. Eat," The Queen's voice forced a sympathetic tone.

Belle eyed the food in front of her suspiciously for a moment, she wanted to say 'No thank you, I'm not hungry,' but as the smell of perfectly cooked food hit her she found the words impossible to say. It stood to reason that if the Queen wanted her dead she wouldn't have made the effort to rescue her from the clerics, she doubted her food would have been poisoned. She picked up her cutlery and took a mouthful of food as she was told.

"I can't help but feel guilty," The Queen sighed with regret, "Had I not given you that advice about true love's kiss then you would never have ended up in that awful tower with the Clerics,"

After swallowing her food, Belle carefully put down her knife and fork. "Why did you bring me here?"

"It was the least I could do," She answered, "I shouldn't have interfered,"

"You wanted me to break his curse didn't you?" Belle asked.

The Queen took a long drink from her wine before replying, "I won't deny that if Rumplestiltskin were to loose his powers that it would be beneficial to me,"

"Well as you can see my kiss did not work," Belle looked sullen, "He does not love me,"

The Queen laughed, "My dear if that were true he would have never let you go. I'd go so far to say you terrified him. That makes you a very valuable ally,"

Belle frowned, "What makes you think I'm your ally?"

"After what he did to you, surely you want revenge?" The Queen questioned. "You gave him your heart and he stepped on it – he threw you to the wolves, hasn't even bothered to check if you're still alive. All because he's afraid you'll cause him to loose his precious power. Doesn't that make you furious?"

Belle avoided her gaze and instead to a drink of her own wine, "No, not really,"

"You've no need to lie to me dear," The Queen spoke in an uncharacteristically soothing voice. "I know your pain – I understand a broken heart never really heels. It can make us do unspeakable things, but sometimes we need closure in order to move on with our lives. Your wound is fresh and you need time to think, you will stay here in my castle for one week. In that week you will be cared for, and when the sun sets on the last day I will ask you again if you will join me,"

"And what if my answer is still the same?"

The Queen gave her a dark look, it only lasted for a second but Belle could see it, the warning in her eyes.

"I'm sure you will make the right decision,"

It was the middle of the night again.

Graham struggled to steady his vision as the drugs played havoc with his senses; he could swear he could hear someone whispering his name.

"Graham,"

The ex-Sheriff gave a frown as he momentarily considered the true state of his sanity, until he noticed the padded cushion from the wall on the floor of his cell. Some one was calling him.

"Belle?"

"You're awake! Finally, I was getting worried,"

Graham staggered over to the hole in the wall, peering through he could see her blue eyes filled with relief.

"You shouldn't have fought them," Isabelle scolded.

"They were trying to give me drugs that I don't need," Graham argued.

The brunette on the other side of the wall sighed, "I know it's hard to accept Graham, but these people are Doctors. They're professionals; they know what they're talking about. How do you ever expect to get better if you don't take your medication?"

"I'm not sick – and neither are you!"

"How do you know that?" Isabelle eyed him sceptically, "You don't even know me,"

"That's what I was trying to tell you last night," Graham replied, "I do know you. We know each other from a long time ago. About twenty-eight years to be precise,"

"How is that possible? I'm not even twenty-eight years old…"

"It's a long story, it's beyond imagination," Graham rubbed his forehead. "Trust me I'm still trying to get my head around it myself,"

Isabelle didn't look convinced, "This is what I'm talking about – Graham you've only just met me. We couldn't possibly have known each other twenty eight years ago, I wasn't even born!"

The girl was brain washed by both the drugs and the curse. He should have expected that, even if she did have a glimmer of her memory somewhere inside she'd been told everyday for the last twenty eight years that she was mad. Graham sighed in defeat as he realised trying to convince her wasn't going to be as easy as he thought.

"Listen to me Belle-"

"Isabelle," She corrected him.

"What?"

"You keep calling me Belle, that's not my name," She insisted with a hint of uncertainty in her voice. "It's Isabelle,"

Graham latched onto that unsure feeling she conveyed through her voice, "You don't sound too sure about that. Doesn't the name sound strange to you? Like it's close, but it's not quite right?"

There was a moment of silence as Isabelle pondered the idea. The name 'Isabelle' had always sounded a little off to her. When ever the hospital staff would use it she had an urge to look around her, as if they were searching for someone else.

"Belle try to remember a time before you were put in here,"

Her blue eyes narrowed in thought as she wracked her brain, trying to remember a time before gray padded walls and blue scrubs. She remembered only daily pill doses, occasional visits from the Mayor, cryptic conversations with the man who used to live in Graham's cell about how time had been murdered, and Graham's recent arrival. She could remember nothing of her childhood; she couldn't even picture her father's face.

"I-" Belle looked puzzled, "I can't. I remember nothing… perhaps the drugs-"

"It's not just the drugs it's the curse," Graham interrupted her.

"Curse?" Belle blinked.

"The whole town is under a curse," He began to explain. "This is going to sound ridiculous but none of us belong here in this world. We come from the Enchanted Lands – a world of Fairy Tales. Twenty-eight years ago the Evil Queen used a dark curse to transport everyone from that world to this one, erasing their memories and giving them new identities and placing herself in the highest position of power so she would be able to control us all,"

"You mean the Mayor?"

"Yes, that's why she scares you," Graham nodded. "Regina is the Evil Queen responsible for all of this. She ripped out my heart and forced me to be her soldier; she kept your prisoner in her castle. That's how we know each other. We were both trapped by her; you promised you'd help me find where she'd hidden my heart and when did we'd flee the castle. But she caught us before we could get into the vault and-"

"Stop," Isabelle cut him off, a sudden weariness creeping into her tone. "There is no such thing as magic,"

"Maybe not in this world but in our world-"

"I said stop it! Please," Isabelle pleaded. "I've spent a long time just trying to get where I am. I can't let your delusions influence me. Please don't ruin it, if I regress they'll increase my dosage and I hate the drugs. I really hate the drugs; nothing makes sense with them,"

"Isabelle," Graham used her Storybroke name, "Why do the nurses say you're here?"

"I can't remember," She spoke frustrated and confused, "But they get very upset when I talk about my dreams, they say they're not healthy and they cause my irrational behaviour,"

"What dreams?"

Isabelle paused, contemplating whether or not to answer him. She sighed, "I dream of castles. The first is warm with white stone walls and red tower slating, it isn't huge but it's still impressive. It always feels so familiar, I know every corner of it as if I'd walked the halls all of my life and I feel as if I know every one who I see there. The next is cold, with dark walls and sharp steeples – the halls are long and always guarded by men in black armour. It scares me."

Graham felt hope rise within him, he was right. Belle did remember, albeit her memory was hazy but likely due to the drugs the hospital had been pumping her with to make her forget.

"But the place I dream of most is not so much a castle," Isabelle continued on, speaking about her dreams gave her a sense of catharsis. "It's more of a large estate. For some reason all of the mirrors are covered up and I find myself with the urge to clean everything, but I don't mind – as strange as it sounds I quite enjoy it. I only ever see one person in the estate…"

"Who do you see?"

Isabelle was silent for quite a while, and Graham feared she wouldn't answer him.

"He's a peculiar man; actually I'm not quite sure if he is a man. His skin is rough and greying and his teeth are sharp, he has the face of a monster but he is not cruel. Well, at least not always. I mostly see him sitting at his spinning wheel, but he get's nervous whenever I try to sit next to him," she frowned a little at the thought, "Like he doesn't want me to get too close,"

"The man in your dreams," Graham spoke, "Was he spinning straw into gold?"

"Yes," Isabelle breathed in surprise, "How did you-"

"Because you told me back when we were held in the Queen's castle," he replied. "The man in your dreams is Rumplestiltskin, the Dark One. You made a deal with him that if he would save your village from the Ogres then you would go with him as his care taker for his home,"

Isabelle shook her head, hesitation in her voice, "No – No those are just dreams. That didn't really happen. The nurses said they are delusions,"

"The nurses are under the curse!" Graham reminded her. "Of course they think your crazy, that's Regina's plan. Rumplestiltskin is the only one powerful enough to match her, that's why she wants to keep you down here until she can use you against him,"

"Even if it were true, what makes her think he would care what she did to me? I was just his caretaker,"

"You are his weakness," Graham clarified, "He was in love with you,"

Isabelle stared dumbfounded. She'd spent so long convincing herself that her dreams were merely delusions caused by some sort of trauma she couldn't quite recall, but they had always felt so real. It was as if each dream were a memory of a life gone by, but here Graham was – a man who seemed to know her dreams without ever being told. She had no idea what to think.

The pair were interrupted by the sound of the steel entrance door opening outside of their cells, the time for chat was over.

"Tomorrow?" Graham whispered.

Isabelle nodded, "Tomorrow,"

A/N: Reviews are love!