There was a time, long past, when Belle regained her strength. Nourished on the magic Rumplestiltskin left behind during his travels, she was able to pull herself from the bed and continue the chores that she'd been bartered for. Belle dusted, swept, polished, and cleaned, all the while admiring the gold necklace that drifted forward each time she bent.
She did not try to leave the grounds. She had no desire to.
There are other stories cast within this time: of Rumplestiltskin's return, Belle's lessons in spinning, more meals late at night when the two of them shared far more than just food.
Sadly though, tragedies are remembered the longest.
The story with the greatest hold is one of surprising courage, of the Dark One's choice to release that which he held most dear. Her return, a kiss, a love come tumbling down...
Belle French left that day, but before she did she tore a necklace from her collar, coolly claiming that she had need of it no longer. In that time and that place, a scaled hand caught the object before it could smash against the dungeon floor. A good thing too, considering the magic it contained.
In Storybrooke, years later, Mr. Gold wasn't quite so lucky.
The rose broke, and truth came pouring forth.
Belle sat with her back to Rumple's, breathing in time with him. They gasped, let it shudder out, then gasped again—over and over. He had the broken pieces of his cane in one hand, the edge of Belle's sleeve clasped desperately in the other. Rumple looked around at the ruins of his shop, all the while counting the breaths of the woman behind him.
Belle looked around at the ruin too: smashed glass, splintered wood, concave antiques, even splattered particles of food from their breakfast. She looked down at the remains of the bag, blinking. She looked back up and truly gasped at the space to her left. There, in the middle of the shop, was her necklace, broken cleanly in two. It was surrounded by a halo of clean floor, the only bare spots in the shop. She weakly reached towards it and then pulled back, remnants of magic shooting up her fingers like static.
"Rumple," she whispered.
Mr. Gold—Rumplestiltskin—closed his eyes. He could hear it, right there in her voice.
She knew.
"Belle," he murmured back.
"Rumple," she said again, laughing now. "I remember."
She crawled forward and Rumplestiltskin immediately felt the loss of her warmth. Still, he turned to watch her progress, those wide eyes taking in everything with new light. Belle rose up to her knees, just far enough to touch a broken music box, then a scattered collection of silver. He knew she was filling in the blanks just as he had, remembering these objects' place in their own world. Their place in the castle.
Her eyes eventually turned back to him.
"How I've missed you."
Who said it? Him? Her? Perhaps both. They came together, Rumplestiltskin's hand shakily diving into her hair, Belle's fingers clasping the front of his suit. The kiss that followed tasted of dust and blood—drops mingling between them from where Rumplestiltskin had cut his lip. They moved together though, Belle finishing what she'd once tried to start.
She pulled away and touched the smooth skin of his cheek. Scale free.
"Okay." She whispered. "Okay, okay. Maybe there are some perks to this world after all."
Rumplestiltskin let out a snort.
"What happened?"
"Magic, dearie." He nuzzled the space beneath her jaw. Sighed. "A touch of True Love perhaps." It came out a plea. "Do you have any idea how much power I poured into that necklace? To keep you safe?" Rumplestiltskin gripped her tighter, unconsciously tracing the areas where she'd once dangled. "Yet I thought, like a fool, that if any artifact still carried magic in this realm..."
"I'd be with Regina," Belle finished. The name came out as a growl. She tore away again, head swinging to take in the prison. "Wait. Is she why you haven't left?"
No answer was needed. Belle stood on wobbly legs, drawn to the only other source of power in the room—the doorway. She reached out cautiously, like she was approaching a wild beast. Just as her hand was ready to breach the entrance she felt it... magic. Like the kind still swirling around her necklace, only a thousand times stronger, dangerous and far more deadly. It blocked her way and Belle pulled back before it had the chance to hurt her.
She could go no further.
"All magic comes with a price," Belle whispered.
"Belle. I'm so sorry."
Without a word she moved away, behind the counter.
"Belle?"
She slowly began picking debris up; putting it neatly in a pile.
"Belle."
"What?" She asked, a slight twinkle in her eye. "Didn't I say everything was falling into place? I remember, Rumple. That... that's worth anything. But we need to talk. About a lot I think, and I'd rather do that in a clean space, wouldn't you? Especially if I'm to live here." Her face became comically serious. "Don't know what I'm going to tell Ruby though."
"Belle," Rumplestiltskin said. He couldn't say it enough. "You're sure?"
"Even if I had a choice? Yes. I gave you my promise years ago."
She came back around then, to him, clasping his hand and lifting him to his feet. Belle and Rumplestiltskin stood together, a shattered necklace laying at their feet.
"I will go with you."
"Forever."
Fin.
