Author's Note: I am so, so thankful for all of the reviews I've gotten on this story. I love feedback, so feel free to leave some! I'll definitely continue writing this story :)

Chapter 2

The swirling green vortex widened as it nearly swallowed him. In his panic, adrenaline rushed through him, his hand lifting to strike the dagger into the ground to hold him and Baelfire in place. His grip tightened as his son pleaded for his father to follow him into the portal. He cried out that he couldn't follow him into the portal, it would tear them apart.

Then Baelfire's hand slipped, and he was lost to him forever.

Rumple woke up in a cold sweat, his body shaking from the horror of the recurring nightmare, the same nightmare that plagued his dreams for the past three centuries. His eyes wandered around the room, making sure the dream had ended. A sliver of moonlight peeked through the curtains and the wind whipped the tree branches back and forth outside, making the shadows dance along the walls. The sight soothed him, there were only shadows and no green vortexes or the cries of his son to torment him.

His thoughts wandered to Belle, the siren who beckoned to him from her chambers and eased his worries, unless they were about her. Rumple's foremost concern focused on her safety. Magic was no longer the only threat to her, he worried about her fiancé's aggression as well.

He climbed out of bed, grabbed a small candelabra, and lit it with a flicker of magic. Pushing the door that joined their two rooms together, he stepped through, making as little noise as possible. Rumple smiled at her sleeping form, knowing no harm had befallen her during his rest. Belle's book had fallen out of her hand and landed on the floor. It seemed like ages before he walked to her bedside, placed the book on its usual spot on her nightstand, and tucked her in. He smoothed back a curl resting on her cheek, the back of his fingers brushing against the softness of her skin. She did not stir under his touch. Why would she? Who would want to wake up to a monster caressing them with affection?

Even asleep her beauty radiated an innocent aura. She represented the goodness and light that had taken shape in his life again. Oh, but he would not taint her beauty and innocence with his ugliness and evil. He could look, but he was not allowed to touch. He withdrew his hand, placing it back at his side.

Knowing she remained safe, he made his way back to his own bed. He tossed and turned a few moments before he allowed his eyes to close, seeing nothing but darkness behind his eyelids. He relaxed and fell into a deep sleep when the objects of his nightmares ceased to exist.

Belle opened her eyes, blinking before her sight adjusted to the sunlight spilling through the windows. She stretched her petite body until her muscles relaxed, and she slumped into her bed again, groaning. Belle muffled a yawn and after her inner struggle to get out of bed she sat up, noticing her book lying in its spot on the nightstand. Her brow furrowed in confusion. She had no memory of placing her book on the nightstand, or tucking herself so neatly in her bed.

Belle's feet landed on the cold floor, making her withdraw them before pulling on her slippers. Once her feet were warm, Belle checked on Rumplestiltskin. She pushed the door open with a creak, stopping it before it gradually became louder. She had no desire to wake him, only check o n him. Belle had a feeling Rumple did not sleep often or very well, he was either spinning or keeping an eye on her as she fell asleep. Belle even swore she would wake up to a loud cry in his room on some nights, and she would stare at the ceiling, debating on whether or not she should see if he required help through a nightmare.

Belle stepped through the doorway, noticing his chest rising and falling with every breath, and Belle smiled to herself. He looked tranquil, and his skin glistened with what sunlight shone through the windows, the flecks of gold against the green fascinating her. Belle hadn't expected to bond with the strange man. Most thought him foul and horrifying, but she saw the man beneath the monstrous mask. If one peeled back his layers they would find a docile but broken man, but many people were not like her, so they reacted with venom and hostility towards someone they didn't understand.

After watching him for a few moments she stepped back and closed the door behind her. She needed to bathe and get dressed, simple tasks that Rumple was forbidden to accompany her as ordered by her father. How she wanted to free her new companion from this enslavement, perhaps she would one day, when her father was away or when he ceased to live. Rumplestiltskin deserved that much from her.

After she completed her bath, her handmaidens helped her into her ball gown. The gold dress dipped low enough to show off the porcelain skin of her neck and shoulders. The straps rested against the bottoms of her shoulders. Though they looked loose, they kept her dress in place. Once she was fully dressed, Rumplestiltskin entered the room dressed in a gold and white brocade jacket, complete with a silver waistcoat. He wore his signature tight pants, which were black, which always showed off his finer assets. Belle's eyes drifted lower to take a glance at his knee-high lace up boots, and bit her bottom lip in case she said something stupid.

Belle swallowed hard, taking him in. She wet her lips with the tip of her tongue when she noticed he looked her over too. Her mouth lifted into a grin and she felt heat rising in her cheeks. Belle knew she was blushing, but he seemed to pay her no mind.

"Well, you look very handsome Rumplestiltskin." Belle stifled the giggle that threatened to rise out of her throat. He looked at the ground, and she feared she had embarrassed him. She took his hand in hers, not minding his scaly knuckles or black claws. "I meant what I said."

His eyes shifted from the floor to meet her bright, blue ones. He waved his hand in the air, his fingers wiggling. "It's no matter, dearie. Though I'm shocked you would compliment an old monster like me."

She frowned at his words. "You're not a monster, Rumplestiltskin." Belle rested her other hand against his cheek, letting him know his scales did not repulse her. Closing his eyes, he focused on the soft pads of her fingers brushing against his rough skin. "Let's go."

She still held his hand as they walked toward the Great Hall, his steps hesitant until he felt more at ease by her side. Rumple heard the sounds of laughter and heels hitting the floors of the ballroom. He stiffened beside Belle and the grip on her hand tightened.

"Rumple?" She asked, looking up at him with concern. He shouldn't have to be here with her if he was troubled by the noise and suffocating air of a social gathering. This only angered her more about her father's handling of a situation that had nothing to do with Rumplestiltskin.

"It's all right, dearie, let's get you to your birthday ball." Every bone and nerve in his body begged him to run, but the pull of the dagger forced him to stay by her, protecting her from potential harm. This was a conflict that would have driven a normal man to the brink of insanity.

As soon as they walked through the door, Belle was greeted by five girls fawning over her dress and pulling her away from him. Rumple reluctantly let go of her hand so he wouldn't be pulled into the female frenzy, where he was certain he wouldn't be welcome. Belle gave him a sympathetic look, and he responded with a wave of his hand, ushering her to go on. He'd keep an eye on her from a distance, where it would be easier to spot foul play in such a large room.

Rumple watched her turn on her heels, bright and happy. She was grace and beauty personified, despite her occasional bouts of clumsiness where he kept her from slipping and landing on the ground. On the ballroom floor, she became spellbinding, ethereal. Then, that oaf of a fiancé came up behind her and put his filthy paws on her waist, ruining his moment of an aesthetically pleasing view.

A low growl rumbled in Rumplestiltskin's throat, as he watched the man continue to sidle up to her, subtly pressing against her backside. He reminded himself that she did not view him as a lover, but as a friend, therefore she was not his. As soon as Belle pushed Gaston's hands away from her waist he saw anger and aggression flash in his eyes as he turned Belle around and began to drag her away from the crowd into the east end of the gardens. The guests were too busy socializing to see what was happening. Oh, but he saw it, and he was going to put an end to it.

He made his way through the crowd, not caring who he pushed, Belle's safety was more urgent than his manners. At this point, he didn't know if it was the dagger or her, but the brainless brute would not harm his beauty. The smell of flowers mixed with the aroma of the food from within the ballroom hit him as soon as he stepped outside, but the sounds of Belle's pleas filled the air, alerting him to her whereabouts.

"Gaston, stop. What are you doing?" He heard Belle whimper, her voice becoming frantic, and he heard the sound of Gaston's boots skid across the dirt as she pushed him away.

"I'm just touching what belongs to me, Belle." Then he heard the wet sounds of kissing. The ogre was actually placing his unwanted lips upon her when Rumple spotted them.

Rumple came up behind Gaston, pulling him back by the collar of his jacket, nearly making him fall back. How he wanted to crush his boot into the boy's chest if he did fall. "The lady said to stop, so I suggest you stop. You would make a pretty rose to place in the white vase Belle has in her room."

He looked past Gaston, stepping to his side but keeping a firm hold on him. He met Belle's eyes, and for the first time he observed real fear in the depths of her blue eyes. Strands of her hair had escaped their pins and trickled down her neck and shoulders, and a strap of her dress hung off revealing more of the soft mound of her breast. He shuddered to think what would have happened if he had not been here to protect her.

"My Lady Belle, shall I turn him into a rose? White, yellow, pink, or red? It's all your choice." His pupils dilated with glee and his stained teeth appeared beneath his curled lips. His dark lust rose as he became more and more eager to hear Belle's request. Unsure, again, if it was her or the dagger doing such things to him. He had felt the darkness take hold of him before, but not like this. It made him alive, but untamed. A wild animal ready to strike out at any opportunity.

"I don't want him hurt, but I do want him kept as far away from me as possible." She requested, her chin held high with confidence, despite the tears swimming in her eyes.

Not the response he was looking for, but it would do. Whatever his beauty requested, she shall receive, especially when seeing her so hurt. "Very well, dearie." With a wave of his hand a blue flash of magic encased Belle, then tapered off into nothing.

Gaston turned his head, and Rumple let him go. He rubbed his hands as if he were removing speck of dirt, which he might as well had been doing since he considered Gaston to be filth. "What did you do to her, demon?" Gaston demanded with a sneer.

Rumple tittered, then stepped up to him. "I simply protected her from your grimy hands, among other things. If you touch her, you will feel extreme pain. If you persist on breaking past the barrier, you will die. Understand, dearie?"

Gaston's dark eyes widened, and he nodded in response. He held up his hands in defeat, and took a few steps back.

"Now be off, leave her in peace before I change my mind about killing you or turning you into a floral decoration." Gaston turned and left them in a haste, not once looking back. Rumple's fingers worked restlessly in the air, his lips formed in a half smile before he turned to Belle.

She took his hand, it trembled in his. He brushed his thumb against the soft skin on the side of her hand, hoping to calm her down. She threw her arms around his neck and buried her face against his chest. His first instinct was to pull away from her, her touch warm and tempting. He did not want to corrupt her, vanquish her purity, but her shaking sobs had him winding his arms around her to hold her close.

"Oh, sweetheart, it's okay I'm here. He won't hurt you anymore." He lifted his hand to smooth down the soft curls that rested across her back after becoming disentangled from Gaston's unwelcoming touches. This embrace was too friendly, too affectionate, but he refused to stop himself. The dagger demanded he protect her, but his heart demanded he comfort her.

"Thank you, Rumplestiltskin. I fear what he might have gotten away with if you hadn't been here." She lifted her head from her chest, a stray tear ran down her cheek. He wiped it away with his thumb, letting the back of his fingers linger before pulling them away.

"He'll never come near you again. If he does, he gets hurt or he dies. It will be on him, and not at your request." He brushed loose strands of her hair away from her forehead and placed a gentle kiss on it, enjoying how she felt against his lips, while his mind wondered what her other body parts would feel like against them. He heard her suck in a breath, and she ran her hands down his neck to rest against his shoulders, her gentle touch sent heat throughout his body.

Before this affectionate display could go further, he took her hand once more. "Would you like to dance?" He queried with a bow, and kissed the top of her hand.

The color of her cheeks turned from its usual porcelain to a rosy color. She bit her bottom lip, her eyes lighting up at his offer. "Yes, I would like that, Rumplestiltskin."