A/N: Thank you again SO MUCH for all the amazing reviews! It means so much that so many are reading and enjoying this story! I hope you enjoy this next installment.

The library managed to keep Belle occupied for much of her time in the castle, as did wandering and exploring. Many of the rooms were empty or stuffed full of dusty old furniture that simply didn't interest her. Occasionally she came across trinkets, old pieces of jewelry that probably had meant something to someone but were tucked away in an unused room of the castle. One of those small precious items Rumplestiltskin liked to take off those he dealt with but which he obviously had no use for.

What use, after all, did one have for a piece of jewelry when one spun straw into gold on a regular basis? It seemed he did it every night, for whenever the screams caused her to rush to the tower, he was there, already at his wheel, with spools of gold thread carelessly strewn about him.

That had become a ritual of sorts for them, though she noticed it had begun happening less and less over time. The first month she was there, she had spent nearly every night in the tower room. The screams always came sometime after midnight, sometimes near whimpers of pain, sometimes full-blown hysteria. And after that first night she knew where they would lead her. By the middle of the second month she noticed that she was only going to the tower room a few days a week. There was no set pattern to it, but every time it happened, she would sigh, put on her warm slippers and wrap, and tread the long hallways and even longer staircase to reach the room at the top of the tower.

She was never unwelcome there and that had ultimately been a huge relief for her.

Now in her fourth month in the castle, she realized she was only going to the tower about once a week. The rest of the time she generally slept through the night. The noises of the castle no longer bothered her. The tree outside her window had become a welcome friend, a sound she found strangely comforting. The clock no longer bothered her as it now made no noise at all. When she had awakened after that first tower visit, the clock she had hurt herself on was back on the mantle, completely silent. It had been so ever since. She suspected Rumplestiltskin had put a silencing spell over it, for it worked, but the ticking noise that so bothered her had disappeared.

This particular morning, Belle found herself in the Great Room. Rumplestiltskin had not yet arrived for tea. She had slept through the night and felt fairly refreshed, so she had come down early. The tea set was on the table, the tea warmed and ready for them. It gave her some time to stand at the window and watch the outside world.

For all her freedom to wander the castle, and she was most thankful for that, she had never been allowed outside. She was still trapped in a way. It particularly bothered her right now. High up in the mountains, spring had come late to the Dark Castle. But come it had. She could see the birds flitting from treetop to treetop, the leaves beginning to grow back on the barren trees. The grass was still a bit brown but regaining its lush green color. She had wondered what the season would look like up in the mountains instead of on the plains near the shoreline. She had wondered what it would smell like. She had only been outside once and that was at the height of summer. What would the return of so much life smell like?

With a sigh, she turned away from the window, knowing it wasn't something she was likely to ever experience. Maybe someday, when he trusted her more, when he knew she wouldn't go back on her deal, Rumplestiltskin would allow her out of the castle. He had gardens that were sorely in need of some tending and she could find some work there, pulling weeds and returning them to their former glory.

"You feel trapped." His voice coming from behind her surprised her and she held a hand to her chest briefly.

"I…" Did she? She didn't want to feel ungrateful, for she did have so much more space than she had had for most of her life. He raised an eyebrow at her and she looked down at her hands. "I wouldn't say trapped, no. But it's a beautiful day. I've never been outside before…"

"Except that one time."

She smiled at the memory. It seemed a lifetime ago that she had met him on top of that hill, her one night of freedom. It was not an encounter she would soon forget. Even all these years later she could remember the feel of the wind on her face, the companionable silence that had settled over them until they heard the search parties. "Yes," she finally responded with. "Except that one time."

He was already seated at the table, pouring tea for both of them and so she moved to his side, gathered up her teacup and then returned to her vigil at the window. If she couldn't actually go outside, she could at least enjoy it vicariously.

Silence reigned for a time and she sipped at her tea. Tea was one thing that Rumplestiltskin consistently made from scratch, rather than making his magic take care of. When she had asked him about that he had given her a wrinkle of his nose and told her magic never quite got tea right. This particular blend was her favorite. It had a slightly smoky flavor and he always insisted on using a strange metal contraption, something he called a samovar to heat the water for it. It was exotic, from some far off land, and she often wondered how exactly he came by it.

"We could go outside, if you wanted." His voice came from far too close behind her and Belle, startled, jumped back a step or two with a yelp. The teacup she was holding fell from suddenly nerveless hands.

"Oh!" she exclaimed and immediately dropped to her knees to grab the cup. She wasn't so worried about the tea that had spilled out. She had been almost done anyway and she was sure magic could take care of that. But his tea set was lovely and, she assumed, antique. Grasping the handle in her hand she took a close look at the cup. Much to her dismay, it appeared the drop had indeed done some damage. "It's chipped." She looked up at Rumplestiltskin who still stood nearby and realized she was far too close to him and from her vantage point she nearly aligned with certain parts of the male anatomy she didn't want to think about. She stood, far faster than intended, and took a few hasty steps backward.

Rumplestiltskin merely smirked at her, the look on his face telling her all she really needed to know. "It's just a cup," he said with a small hand flourish and retreated.

Belle took a deep breath. "Were you serious?"

"Yes, it really is just a cup…"

"No I meant…"

"About going outside? Yes." He nodded once. "It seems I have sorely neglected you and perhaps I should remedy that with a tour of the grounds. You are not a prisoner here Belle, despite the terms of the deal." Which, now that Belle thought about it, had never really been hammered out. She came to live with him in his castle, that much was her side of the deal, but what else? He had demanded nothing of her except occasional companionship. She would have thought he dealt for her out of loneliness, but he didn't know she was in the tower until he had already completed what he thought was going to be the deal with her father.

She tried to remain calm. Would he change his mind if she rushed him with a hug? She had seen his reaction to her touch when he showed her to the library, the way he stiffened in her arms. It was almost as if he wasn't used to anyone touching him at all. "I would like that very much." Her first outing, her first real outing, where she wasn't afraid of being caught, where she could observe things during the daylight hours instead of during the dark of night.

His smile was indulgent. "Get yourself ready then. We'll leave in an hour." She started to walk away. "But remember dearie, if you're late, we won't be going."

She laughed as she rushed out of the room, giddy at the thought of even this tiny bit of freedom.

He wasn't quite sure what he had been thinking, offering to take her on a stroll about the castle grounds. The Dark One did not stroll, did not offer tours. He also didn't deal for fully-grown women and allow her to sleep in his tower room while he spun. And he most certainly didn't watch her while she slept and wonder how soft her skin would feel against the rougher texture of his own.

He was a monster and monsters took what they wanted.

And yet here he was, standing in the Great Room waiting for her to come down from getting ready. He had said an hour and it was nearly that time.

A moment later Belle flew into the room, hair flying out behind her, her cheeks already a bit pink from her headlong race down the stairs. "There was no need to rush."

"But you said…"

"We still need to work on your sense of humor, dearie." He held out his hands and a cloak appeared. "Come, it may be spring, but it's still cool out."

Her eyebrows shot up as he helped her into the cloak, tucking it neatly around her and doing up the clasp with quick, agile fingers. He brushed his fingers just lightly against her neck as he did so, noting the skin was as delicate and soft as he expected, before withdrawing rapidly.

"Shall we then?" he asked her. It appeared he was going to play the gallant today, whether he wanted to or not. He held out one arm, indicating that she should precede him out the door.

Rather than do that, Belle reached her arm out and linked it with his, drawing in close to him and stepping out of the door at the same time as he did.

This outing was probably going to be a mistake. Yet he couldn't stop himself from looking down at her briefly and smiling.

Belle didn't know what had caused her to reach out and grasp Rumplestiltskin, pull him close, so that their stroll through the grounds meant that every step was taken with his brushing up lightly against her. He seemed so taken aback by it at first but it did not take long, just a small circuit around the nearest of the gardens, for him to relax a bit.

The grounds around the Dark Castle were as lovely as she thought they might be, looking down on them during the winter months. She had feared that they would be bleak, once spring hit, full of dead thorny bushes and trees left to rot. Instead, she noted that they were starting to come to life. The gardens of the Dark Castle were neglected, certainly, and that was as much by design as it was accidental.

Rumplestiltskin himself was slightly wild. Sometimes, when she reached out and touched him, he was as skittish as an animal who didn't quite trust humans. She was amazed to see his reaction to a simple touch, a friendly hug. He often backed away with hands raised, eyed wide. Sometimes he froze, like a deer catching sight of a hunter's bow. Sometimes he fled from the room, the fingers of one hand rubbing together in a sort of nervous tic.

And so the gardens suited him. Wild, uncared for, a bit unloved.

"I could take care of these," Belle spoke as they walked slowly through what appeared to be a rose garden. "A little tender loving care, a few weeds removed, and it would prosper." She wasn't quite sure if she was talking of the garden or of the man.

"I quite like them wild." He sounded almost irritated at her suggestion.

"As do I." She nodded in agreement. "There's a beauty to the wildness. It saddens me to see so many wanting to tame it, to force it into the same patterns as everyone else's gardens. But a little tending can allow them to grow unimpeded"

"You like unique things, then?" he asked and she heard a certain hesitancy in his voice.

She looked up at him, wondering if he too were talking just about the garden. Of all the men she had met, and she had no doubt after all this time that Rumplestiltskin was indeed a man, he was the most unique. There was no one else like him in the world, from his otherworldly features to his dark quips to his strange occupation with spinning straw into gold.

"I do," she said and squeezed his arm slightly. He looked away. She wished she could have a chance to truly read his expressions, but he tended to always look away in these moments. His unusual eyes could sometimes be easy to read, not so different from anyone else's, but he also liked to keep them shuttered, focusing on anything but her.

They walked for awhile longer. He pointed out the various parts of the garden, from the pear trees he kept on the outskirts to the various types of flowers in the other parts. When she mentioned wanting to try her hand at cooking sometime, he showed her to the vegetable garden that had gone wild long ago and mentioned that she may tend to them if she wanted to. She was excited at the prospect, imagining her perfect little vegetable garden. The fact that she knew nothing about tending vegetables or cooking did not deter her one bit. She no doubt could find all the books she needed on the subjects in Rumplestiltskin's extensive library.

Belle didn't know how long they strolled for. The beauty of the area around the castle constantly astounded her. It almost seemed to astound Rumplestiltskin too and she was sure that he rarely, if ever, came out to the grounds to simply enjoy them. He gave her a bit of freedom, the taste of the outdoors, but she thought perhaps she gave him something too, a new appreciation for what was always just there.

She retained her grip on his arm nearly the whole time, occasionally releasing him to wander a small path on her own or smell flowers further from the path they were on. She always returned to him though, linking her arm loosely through his when she did.

"This is beautiful, Rumplestiltskin," she said as it seemed they were nearing the completion of their circuit. She started to step away, but he tightened his arm.

"Wait…there's more." She cocked her head slightly and indicated with one hand that he should lead on.

And lead he did. This last locale was a bit further removed from the rest and she found herself excited as they headed up and across some small hills. She didn't know how far his own land extended but it seemed to be much further than the land her father's keep was on. She stopped at the top of one of the small hills and breathed in deeply, releasing him to spin around a couple times.

The spring weather was glorious. The sky was an amazing shade of blue, the clouds white and fluffy. The sun shining through the clouds created patterns of shade on the ground that she enjoyed traipsing through.

"Go ahead and take your shoes off," Rumplestiltskin suddenly said and she ducked her head slightly in embarrassment. "I recall your not wearing any shoes when we first met."

She had forgotten that in the intervening years, instead mostly focusing on the sensations and the nervous excitement of being free for the first time in her life. She looked to him and bit her lower lip, an unconscious gesture of indecision.

"Oh go ahead dear. There's no one here but us."

That cinched it for her. She was alone on a hillside with the Dark One. Her father and her family would not see her. The knights would not see her. Finally, she kicked off her shoes, amused to watch them disappear as she did so.

"They will reappear when you need them again," he said with a shrug. There was that casual use of magic yet again. It was something he simply did without thinking, like breathing for the rest of humanity.

Racing across the field she gloried in the feeling, a reminder of that day all those years ago when she had done much the same. This time it was in bright sunlight and the grass was soft beneath her feet, no branches to reach out and scratch the tender soles.

Rumplestiltskin came up somewhere behind her, walking in his straight path slowly toward her. "This is glorious!" she shouted to him and was amazed to see him smile, a slight tilting up of one side of his mouth. He did not join in her headlong rush down the hill, but picked his way carefully down in the high-heeled boots he still wore.

Come to think of it, she had never seen him in anything but that style of clothing. He did not wear a nightshirt in the tower room so late at night when he went there, alone, to spin. He was always impeccably dressed when he came down in the morning. She wondered what he would look like dressed down. She wondered if she'd ever see such a thing. Already she felt she saw a side of him that no one else had seen, especially not those who went to him for a deal. But even she, for all her months of living with him, had never seen him truly relaxed.

He was like a jungle cat, all tightly coiled energy waiting to be unleashed on an unsuspecting prey animal. Even at rest, he seemed ready to jump into action. She would watch him seated at the table while taking his morning tea and his hands simply seemed alive. Even when steepled together in complete stillness they looked ready to create the flourishes that accompanied his magic.

She suspected that sort of unleashed energy probably left those he dealt with terribly unnerved. It had during her first days, after all.

It no longer did.

When she reached the bottom of the hill, she waited for him to catch up and they resumed their walk. She didn't ask for her shoes back, though she knew he could conjure them at any point. She stayed closed at his side though she did not reach out for him again.

"Come," he said and stepped off to the side. There was a line of trees there that she hadn't really noticed before with a small path intersecting them. He led her to the path, and walked through, stepping aside as she breached the barrier.

She gasped as she was finally confronted with the view there. The grass beyond the tree line led first to a sandy beach and then to a lake. Crystal clear, it spread out beneath the mountains in the distance, reflecting their peaks in its water. She had never seen anything like it, had never imagined anything like it. It was simply perfect.

He let her go on ahead, let her explore the beach, feeling the sand beneath her feet, dipping her toes in the still-frigid water. She finally returned to him and sat on the grass, patting the ground beside her. He sat awkwardly near, but still without touching her.

She leaned back on her elbows, turned her face to the sun. "I've been exploring the castle these past months. There's a lot there." She smiled at that, turning to look at him. He didn't return the look. She had found things she wanted to question him about, but nothing more so than the room of small clothes and children's toys. All of the toys were rough-hewn, obviously made by someone with a bit of skill but without fancy tools. The clothing was made by the same skilled hand, patched together in parts, threadbare in others. They had obviously been well-worn and patched up time and time again. "In one room I found children's clothes and toys…" She paused and waited to see if he would respond. All she noticed was a slight tightening of his jaw as the words slipped from her mouth. "Were they yours? Or was there a son?"

His shoulders tightened, as did his mouth. He drew his legs up, wrapped his arms around them and rested his chin on his knees. "There was," he said quietly. She had to strain to hear him. "There was a son."

She waited for him to say more, but it seemed he had closed off. "What happened?" She had to prevent herself from reaching out to touch him.

"I lost him." The words were a mere whisper.

"And his mother?"

"I lost her too." And this time the words were less than a whisper. She almost felt more than heard them. There was a sadness there, a deep abiding sadness she had not seen out of him before. He certainly wasn't the gleeful demon who stole away the things people held precious and he wasn't the darkly evil succubus who took children. She knew that much after her time with him. He was prone to mood swings she had not been prepared for, one moment willing to discuss her latest reading and the next glaring at her and walking out of the room without so much as a word. But she hadn't seen this sort of sadness before.

"I'm sorry." She shook her head. She had no child to lose but she couldn't imagine the pain of losing one. She wondered how long ago this was. She had no doubt he was a man, or at least once was. She knew from the books she had read that he had been around for a very long time, centuries even. "How did they die?"

His head shot up and his eyes met hers finally. "My son is not dead."

"But…"

"I lost him…many years ago. We were…separated. He went to a new world. I stayed here. But he is still alive, somewhere. I don't know where or how, but he's alive. And somehow I will get back to him." His hand clenched into a fist and then relaxed again. It was the most open he had been with her, though it seemed that every word was being wrenched out of him, as if he didn't want to say them and yet could not stop himself.

"And his mother…"

He looked away again, the open look in his eyes quickly shuttering. "She is dead. It matters not how."

They fell into silence for a time and Belle tried to absorb the astonishing information she had learned. She hadn't come out here with the intention of asking about the clothing. She had planned to ask sometime, maybe on one of their nights in the tower. Surely he would know she'd find the clothing and ask about it eventually. Surely by now he was aware of her curious nature.

Finally, Rumplestiltskin heaved a sigh and stood, his customary grace allowing him to draw himself upward without so much as a bobble. He turned to look down at her and his gaze seemed curious and irritated all at the same time. Holding out a hand, which Belle grasped without hesitation, he drew her to her feet.

She stepped closer to him as she rose, placing one hand on his shoulder to retain her balance. As soon as she had her balance she reached up with that same hand, gently touching the side of his face and watching, surprised, as his eyes slid shut and he turned his head gently into the touch. "If you need help finding him, please, let me help. I don't know what I could do, but if you need an extra set of eyes or anything, please…ask me."

He opened his eyes again and they met hers. Neither moved for a moment and then suddenly the world dissolved and Belle found herself standing alone in her bedroom. She clasped her arms tightly around her chest as she felt a tear roll down her cheek.