The next few weeks passed by in almost a blur. Her first morning at the castle she had woken in her own bed in her serviceable little room and she wasn't even sure how she had gotten there. She remembered falling asleep in the tower room, curled up comfortably on the settee, the Dark One nearby at his wheel. Her sleep had been easy for the rest of the night, the creaking of the wheel lulling her to sleep and no screams disrupting it. It was strange really, how easily she had fallen asleep in his presence.

But somehow she had woken up in her own bed, curled beneath the quilt. She was still dressed in the crumpled blue dress she had arrived in, but she had been tucked tightly into the bed. Someone had done that. At the time, she assumed he had some servants who managed to take care of her.

In the weeks after that incident, she realized that was not reality. He had no servants. He told her, one evening at dinner, that magic was his only servant and that the castle would do her bidding if she voiced what she needed. Breakfast? The castle took care of it. Candlelight? The castle took care of it. She had felt odd talking to the air at first, but she was almost starting to get used to it.

Almost…

That morning she found herself waking up in her bed, though she had again fallen asleep in the tower room. The screams had come last night. They didn't come every night, but when they did, they sent her up the stairs and to the tower room. She had tried resisting it one night, tried to remain in her bed, but the screams became louder, more hysterical, and she ended up in the tower room shaking with fright. Like every night the screams followed her, they stopped as soon as she touched the door to the tower. She would find Rumplestiltskin there and he would do no more than give her a look and a nod, allowing her to simply retreat to the settee and curl up. He never seemed to remove it from the room for every time she was chased up the stairs by the screams, it was there, exactly where it had first appeared. Always she fell asleep there and always she woke up comfortably tucked into her own bed.

Stretching and yawning, she forced herself to rise for the day. It wasn't that the room was cold, not like the many cold days she found it difficult to get out of bed in her own keep. Her room in the Dark Castle was always pleasantly warm, comfortable but not overly heated. Getting out of bed was never a struggle, except that she often wished she could sleep longer. She had little to do with her days here except wander the castle and explore. It was exciting in its own way for she had never had so much space before, but there was no rush to get through it all. Someday she would no doubt know every nook and cranny of the castle and then what would she do with her time?

She quickly changed out of the shift she had worn to bed. The morning after her arrival she had awakened to a change of clothes laid out for her. She had been stunned to find the outfit, including the underthings, all fit her perfectly. It left her feeling a bit out of sorts, for how did he know what would fit? How did he come by it? She knew only a little about magic, what she had learned from the books she had managed to squirrel away on it, so she wasn't sure if magic could somehow take her measurements and create an outfit that fit her perfectly. When she opened up the large wardrobe, she found more outfits, similarly styled and fitted. Some were beautiful gowns and she wondered if she would ever have use for such finery. Some, like the one she had put on that day, were comfortable and serviceable. In the drawers at the bottom of the wardrobe she had found more underthings and nightwear. Too afraid to address the issue with Rumplestiltskin, she had opted instead to simply dress nicely and thank him for the changes of outfit.

After a few weeks, she was far more comfortable in his presence. He still was enigmatic, often did not speak to her at dinner, and sometimes fell into black moods that sent her racing to her room to lock the door behind her. She never felt truly unsafe. She felt more like things were unstable. One moment he was gallant, speaking to her as if she were an equal. The next he banished her from the room with a sarcastic comment.

But he did as he promised he would do. He kept her safe. She could ask no more of him for the moment.

When she arrived in the Great Room that morning, Rumplestiltskin was already seated at the large table, tea set in front of him. His hands were steepled together and he didn't look up as she arrived. It took him a moment to even notice her presence and then he simply waved his hand at the other chair.

Belle sat quietly, watching him for longer than she would have thought he'd find comfortable. "Is something wrong?"

"Hmmm?" was his response. He didn't even look up at her, just simply continued staring at the tea set and empty cup in front of him.

"Would you like some tea?" she said a little bit louder.

He finally glanced up at her and a strange look flitted briefly across his face. If Belle were to describe it, she'd say he almost looked startled, as if he didn't expect anyone else to be there. "Yes, please."

She poured a small spot of milk into his cup, followed by the tea and two spoonfuls of sugar, heaping of course. He raised one eyebrow as she did so. It wasn't her job to pay attention, really. In fact, she had been given no job at all. She had thought with the lack of servants that perhaps she would be asked to take care of some things around the castle that had been sorely neglected, but instead she was treated as if she were a guest in his home. He expected her to raise no finger to help out. Magic would take care of their needs. He asked absolutely nothing of her, except to take dinner with him in the evening. Yet Belle felt she should watch, pay attention, try to keep him at least content if not happy.

And one thing she was sure of, the more time that went on at the castle, was that he was not happy. He didn't speak to her much, though he had started to ask her the occasional question when she found herself up in the tower with him. That seemed to be his safe haven, sitting there in front of his spinning wheel. It was an odd occupation for a man and an even odder one for a sorcerer, but he seemed comfortable there. She often wanted to ask him about it, about why he spun, why straw into gold. But she hadn't gotten up the nerve. Instead she watched him from her place on the settee and wondered. He seemed so very human when seated at the wheel.

He had taken only a few sips when he looked back up at her and finally met her eyes. "I need to leave today."

Belle's eyebrows drew lower over her eyes. "Leave?" She hadn't yet been alone in the castle. She had spent whole days by herself, only seeing him again at dinner and then in the tower late at night. But she knew he was in the castle somewhere. And that was different somehow than being completely alone in the large structure.

"You will be safe." The words were serious. He had spoken them several times and Belle was starting to wonder if she came across as somewhat skittish. Really, the only person she should be afraid of here was Rumplestiltskin himself. Yet a few weeks in his castle, in his presence, told her there was little to fear there.

He had a temper. That much she knew. She had heard him tossing things about, once or twice the sounds of glass breaking could be heard from the tower room, but he had so far treated her with nothing but detached politeness. "I know…"

"Before I go, I need to show you something." He stood then, setting the teacup down on the table.

"You didn't finish your tea," she pointed out.

"It will keep. Come." He gestured with one hand and turned on his heel to walk out of the room. Belle rolled her eyes behind him and with one glance at her cooling tea, followed him. He clearly wasn't used to catering to anyone else. She rushed after him, trying to keep close. He never turned back to her and it was obvious he simply expected her to be there. The house slippers he had given her, functional and less plush than the slippers she had been wearing at night, made her steps silent. Only the sound of his heeled boots against the stone of the stairs could be heard.

He led her to a different tower than the one that she had been going to for all those nights. This one she hadn't explored yet, though it was on her agenda. She had no idea what it contained, what sorts of treasures she might find in the rooms. It seemed Rumplestiltskin was a bit of a collector, hiding away items both precious and mundane in the various rooms of his castle.

When he finally reached the top of the tower, one that even with her lack of directional sense she knew to be opposite the one with his spinning wheel in it, he stepped back and turned to look at her. There was a bit of surprise etched into his features, raised eyebrows, eyes a bit wide. He stared at her for a moment before pushing the door open and gesturing her in ahead of him.

Belle did as he asked, almost without speaking, and then simply stopped and stared. Rumplestiltskin, who had walked in behind her, barreled right into her, knocking her off balance. She started to fall forward, arms thrown out to stop her fall, when she felt one arm snake tight around her waist and she was drawn back tight up against him.

For a moment she couldn't breathe, the sensation of being simply so close to him taking her breath away. He didn't release her right away, his arm loosening just slightly as she steadied and was able to look around her.

It was a library.

A library the likes of which she had never seen before.

The other tower room contained many books, some that she noted were quite old, but upon quick examination of the titles she had found they were all magical tomes, no doubt needed for his many spells and potions. A glance at the titles nearest her told her these were a jumbled mess of novels and historical texts. "Oh," she whispered.

"Yes," came his voice, far too close to her ear. He was still holding onto her, had not managed to quite release her from the embrace they had found themselves in.

"I can…use these?" She turned her head slightly and met his eyes from far too close, feeling the slight tickle of his hair on her cheek.

For just a moment, just the space of one breath, they stayed locked there. And then he released her, stepping back quite suddenly and folding his arms over his chest. Belle stepped away, her stance mirroring his.

"They are for you, if you want them?" Belle just watched him, wide-eyed. "I noticed the way you stared at the books in the other tower. You looked like a starving man who found himself at a banquet he couldn't partake of."

Belle smiled, perhaps her first genuine smile since she had arrived in his castle. Without thinking she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. He did not return the embrace, stiffening in her arms, and so she quickly released him and put some space between them.

"You're not who I thought you were at all." Shaking her head, she turned away and pulled the first book off the shelf that her hand came to.

"Who did you think I was?" When she looked back he had one eyebrow raised.

"I was told you were a demon who ate children." She wasn't sure if she should be honest, but it was, after all, a reputation she would guess he had cultivated.

He gave a slight bark of laughter, shaking his head. "No, no they have it all wrong." The words were muttered under his breath. "I hunt them for their pelts."

The book she was holding dropped to the floor and she winced as she heard the spine crack slightly. His face no longer held the amusement it did a moment ago.

"That was a quip, dearie. Not serious." He waggled a finger at her. "We need to work on your sense of humor."

He left her then, with another quip about expecting everything to be in the exact same spaces they were when he gave her the place. She didn't believe that one quite like she did the first. Shaking her head at his strange humor, she turned to explore the library more. There was no rhyme or reason to the organization, so far as she could tell. Science books were placed next to history ones with fiction filling the space between. She saw books on anatomy and medicine, histories of worlds she had never heard of, a few that even seemed to be about music, and was that…Oh…She blushed at a couple of the titles, deciding that those should be avoided for the time being. There were plenty of other things to read after all.

She chose a book almost entirely at random, one on the history of a land called Agrabah, and settled down on the settee, a matched set with the one in the other tower, to read.

He had tried to sleep that night, after he returned from the deal he had to make. It was a fairly successful one, trading a ring the person didn't know was enchanted for a successful harvest. Their crops had been in sorry shape before he arrived, drenched by too much rain and then nearly wiped out when a hard frost hit the area early. He had saved them and walked out with the ring he needed for a future deal.

It came in handy sometimes, this seeing the future thing he had. He tried to forget that when it came to his new ward, it seemed his ability to see beyond each moment with her was murky at best. And that was not for lack of trying. He had tried, several times in fact, to figure out where she fit into his future, why she was necessary, who exactly she was outside of the daughter of some provincial knight-turned-leader.

So far his success had been limited.

Well, if he wanted to be truly honest with himself, his success had been entirely nonexistent.

That night he had fallen asleep easily enough. The transporting through space to so far away in the realm had exhausted him, a price he sometimes had to pay for the magic. With the enchanted ring tucked safely away in his cabinet of curiosities, he was able to sink into the large featherbed and fall asleep almost instantly.

It's dark out when he arrives, shadows forming from the moonlight above. Ahead of him he can see him, his son. He's just as he remembers. Small, young, the embodiment of all that is good, the complete opposite of what he himself has become. The Dark One, riddled with evil and dark magic.

His son leads the way, always calling back to him. He gets further and further beyond where he is, just a small form in the darkness. He hangs back, afraid, uncertain. He can feel eyes on him in the dark. They are waiting. Hoping. They will be on him if he falters.

And falter he does. He slips, grips the nearest tree.

"Son I cannot go."

But his son is too far ahead, he cannot hear him.

He crawls on hands and knees following the boy.

He can't catch up.

The eyes get closer, close in around him.

Suddenly there's a swirling green cyclone and it moves past him, heads toward his son. He can hear wailing, the cries of the dying, the children trampled by the ogres.

"But I saved them!" he shouts.

The cyclone moves ahead, closer to his son. He can see him lit up, his face a strange greenish hue. "Bae! Run!"

But Bae doesn't. "Father!" he calls. "It's for us. It will save us."

And he freezes. The wailing gets louder. They're in his ears, his brain, all around him. He puts his hands over his ears and wails along with them.

The cyclone swirls on ahead and suddenly his son is being dragged into it. "Father, follow me!"

But he cannot.

His son is swallowed up.

All is silence.

The nightmare chased him to the tower room again, as it always did. He had barely taken his seat at the wheel when Belle poked her head in. He didn't know why she even waited for him to wave her in anymore. She knew she was welcome.

He was almost getting used to her presence there in the evenings that he spent in the tower. She had shown up every time he was there, sometimes a good half hour after his nightmare had chased him there, sometimes just moments later. This time she had a book in hand as she entered the room.

"I see you've been enjoying the library," he said as she settled herself in. He didn't speak to her every evening they were there. Sometimes the nightmare robbed him of speech, sent him to his wheel to forget. But sometimes he found that conversation eased the burden a bit. He never told her about it, choosing instead to ask her mostly inconsequential things about her life until she drifted off.

She nodded, hugging the book close to her chest. "I have been, yes. Thank you."

He made a dismissive sound. "Did you find something enjoyable to read?"

She lit up at the question and he couldn't help but notice how it changed everything about her. She often looked lost, a tiny figure in a castle too large for just two people, but when she smiled, she looked almost content. He often hoped she was that, at least. She sat down on the edge of the settee and set the book on her lap. "Several somethings, actually." She raised the book up slightly. "This is book number three."

He raised one eyebrow. He had left her alone soon after they shared their morning tea, so she had had several hours but he didn't expect her to make her way through two books and already be onto a third.

"Well, I'll just let you read, shall I?" He turned back to his wheel. The nightmare was still there, just behind his eyelids if he dared to close his eyes.

She nodded. "Would you want me to read to you?"

Her voice sounded hesitant and for a moment, just a moment, he was almost tempted. Instead he just gave her a look and turned back to his wheel.

She fell asleep soon after that, as she often did, the book still held in her hands. He spun for a short while longer but finally stood and walked to where she rested on the settee. She was curled comfortably beneath the blanket, head resting on the pillow.

He gently pulled the book from her hand and while she shifted as he did so, she did not waken. Crouching next to her, he watched her, the gentle rise and fall of her chest, the relaxed muscles of her face. She looked peaceful sleeping there.

He wondered what brought her to the tower night after night. She said she still heard screams, sounds his extra sensitive ears never heard. But that first night when she had come running into the tower room, frightened out of her wits, he knew she had to have heard something. No ghosts resided in his castle. He had made sure of that. No magic would have created the sounds. Perhaps it was born of her own fears, perhaps the fairy magic that had protected her for her entire life was warring with the magic of his castle. He had yet to figure out why she was drawn to the tower each night he was there. He wondered if she came every night and turned back when she discovered the door barred to her entry on those nights the nightmares never forced him to his spinning wheel.

Reaching out a hand he almost touched one curl that had fallen over the side of the couch, one long silky strand that beckoned him. No…he did not deserve such things in life.

He stood again, shaking himself off, and with a wave of his hand, Belle disappeared from the room to be tucked safely away in her own bed, far away from the temptation of monsters. Her book followed soon after.

With a sigh he returned to the wheel, allowing the rhythmic motion to calm his frantic thoughts.