Belle's memories of the altered timeline are revealed.
Rumplestiltskin charged down the corridors of the Dark Castle, the sound of Rowan's cries chasing him away. She wasn't his child. Belle didn't love him. It was all a twisted plot, born from Regina's equally twisted mind. She wanted to cripple him, take away his power, and leave his heart in shreds. But she wouldn't win. He needed his magic to find his son, a child of equally dubious paternity but one he loved as his own all the same.
With a wave of his hand, he locked the door to his bedroom ensuring Belle wouldn't leave its confines. He had enough presence of mind to know he couldn't face her right now. No matter what she had done, what scheme she'd been a party to, he didn't want to hurt her. And he knew better than to trust his temper at a moment like this.
No, it was better if she stayed away from him. And he needed to stay away from her.
It was that thought that ruled him for the next three days. He sent food up to Belle's room, he didn't want to starve the girl. He would occasionally hear the cry of the newborn babe echoing down the hall. She didn't call out for him, which he assumed she would do if she were truly desperate. And he stewed.
He had come so close to having what he'd always wanted: a family. If only Belle hadn't tried to trick him. If only she hadn't lied to him. The hot flaring temper he'd felt at her first deception had cooled in the intervening days and he could view his feelings with more clarity. No matter what Belle's true feelings for him, he had not been faking his love for her. He loved her, even still. He wished more than anything that her child was his. He wanted to go to her, to apologize, to prostrate himself at her feet in the hopes that they could go back to the moment before she had kissed him, the moment she had agreed to be his wife.
But no time travel spell existed. There was nothing he could do but live with the choices he had made. And Belle had the power to destroy him, a power he could not keep so near to him.
She had to go.
His decision made, he found his way back to the bedroom, throwing open the door without so much as a courtesy knock.
Belle startled at his sudden entrance, but otherwise gave no sign of fear. Against his better judgment, his eyes found her, his heart giving a painful thump in his chest at the sight.
"What are you going to do to me?" she asked, looking so small bundled up in the window seat of the room, Rowan clasped to her chest. "Throw me out days after giving birth?"
"No," Rumple replied coldly. He would not allow himself to notice how pale she was, how drawn. He could not have sympathy for this woman. She had tricked him, deceived him. He'd thought, for one glimmering moment, that perhaps she loved him. But it had all been a lie. She'd been working with Regina all this time.
"Then what?" Belle asked, her voice sounding slightly hopeful.
"I'm leaving," he continued coldly, the words unexpected on his tongue. But he couldn't just throw out a woman who'd had a child only days before. He couldn't be that cruel to her. "I have errands to run, deals to see to. If you're still here when I return, well, that's on you."
"You want me to leave," the words were a statement, not a question, her voice flat and emotionless. She clung tighter to her daughter but showed no other outward sign that his words had affected her. "So you are throwing me out after all."
"No, dearie," he sneered. "I'm not quite as cruel as you. I'm just simply saying that if you so choose, you're free to go. I won't be coming back here any time soon so it matters not if you stay or leave. Either way, our deal is over. I don't want you anymore."
She flinched at that, his words cutting through her. But Belle would not be cowed. She straightened up, standing from the window seat and depositing Rowan back in her bassinet.
"You don't mean that," she said, stepping around the bed and coming to stand in front of him. She stared up at him, her eyes hard and for a split second Rumplestiltskin felt the weight of what he was doing, how truly lost he would be without her. But he pushed the feeling away and returned her glare.
"Then why would I say it?"
"Because you're a coward," she spat, having no idea how that word could cut him. "And no matter how thick you make your skin that doesn't change. We could have been happy if you'd only just believe in my love…"
"No," he growled out, cutting across her. "Leave, stay, do whatever you want with your little bastard. But know that you didn't get the best of me, dearie."
Belle bit her lip, tears pooling in her splendid eyes.
"You're so afraid," she said with a pitying shake of her head. "I've never known anyone with so much fear."
Rumple raised an eyebrow at her, fixing the haughtiest look in his arsenal on his face.
"It's not fear," he lied. "I just got everything I wanted out of you."
Belle swallowed hard, a tear escaping and trickling over her smooth cheek. She turned away from him and crossed the room back to her window.
"Goodbye then, Rumplestiltskin," she said, her voice surprisingly calm. "But know that you're not punishing me so much as you're punishing yourself. I pity you that you'll never know your own child."
"I already have a child," he growled back. "And it's certainly not her."
Before Belle could even question him, Rumplestiltskin turned on his heel and left the room, slamming the door shut behind him.
Belle had barely slept since Rowan's birth. Her daughter needed to be fed on an almost hourly basis, keeping her up half the night. But even if she hadn't been on a newborn's schedule Belle wouldn't have found sleep.
Everything had been destroyed once again. But while things still seemed salvageable after the incident with Gaston, she had no such hope for things now.
Rumple was too broken, too hardened. He truly believed that no one could love him, let his own self-loathing blind him to the fact that Rowan was his child. She stared down at the sleeping infant's face, already seeing traces of her father in her. He'd done the paternity test himself when they first realized she was pregnant. If the idiot would only just open his eyes he'd find the truth staring him in the face.
She should hate him for the things he'd said. But she knew they were nothing more than lies. He was trying to hurt her, trying to push her away because of his own fear. If she didn't know him so well she may have bought the act. But his mask was paper thin to her now. She knew the real man, had seen him time and again, had seen the soft brown eyes of the true Rumple when she'd kissed him.
But now Belle was faced with a choice. And for the first time, she wasn't making a decision just for herself.
She stroked a finger across Rowan's downy cheek, the baby sniffling in her sleep. Her heart was so filled with love for the child in her arms, and no matter how much she loved Rumple, Rowan had to come first.
If it had just been Belle, she'd have stayed, forced Rumple to hear her out and fought for her place in his life. But she couldn't keep a child in such a volatile situation. Rumple refused to see Rowan as his child and she had seen first hand what his temper could do. She had to protect her daughter.
So that's how she found herself packing up her meager belongings. She waited a few days after Rumple departed the castle, allowing herself time to heal. Once her bleeding had started to taper off and the soreness was more manageable, she gathered together a change of clothes, a few blankets and diapers from the nursery Rumple had made her weeks ago, as much food from the kitchens as she could carry, and strapped Rowan to her chest.
She wasn't sure where she would go. She couldn't go back to her father, not after what had happened with Gaston. Her father thought her bewitched and if she appeared on his doorstep with Rumple's child, she wasn't sure what he would do.
She had no home any longer. The thought struck Belle as she adjusted the sleeping baby against her breast, making sure she was bound tightly like she'd seen the peasant women do in the marketplace when she was a child. For a moment, it all became overwhelming and she let the tears fall, let herself mourn for the life she had lost. Then she steeled herself and headed out the front doors of the castle. She gave one last lingering look over her shoulder wondering if she'd ever see the place again. Perhaps one day Rumple might come to his senses and realize just how badly he'd ruined things. But they were both stubborn and she wouldn't hold her breath.
Belle couldn't travel very quickly with her still healing body and she needed to stop frequently to nurse the baby. The closest village knew her by sight as the Dark One's maid, though she hadn't ventured into town in months. They might be frightened enough of Rumplestiltskin that they'd offer aid to anyone associated with him. Or they might think that she was running from his castle and turn her away lest they attract the Dark One's ire.
No, her best bet was to travel as far away as possible and try to set up some sort of life for herself where no one had ever seen her before. Her accent would give her away as being from the Marchlands. She could easily say she was a widow. Gods knew there were plenty enough of those from her home country given the ogre wars that had plagued their part of the world for years. Of course, Rumplestiltskin had ended the wars months before her child was even conceived.
Three days of walking led her to the next nearest village, one she'd passed through once before on her journey with Rumple to find the thief, Robin Hood. She'd stubbornly refused to take any gold from Rumple's coffers even though he had more than he could spend even in his immortal lifetime. Something in her had rebelled at the idea of taking anything of his, save what she absolutely needed for her child. She was regretting that impulse after two nights spent huddled in makeshift shelters made from tree branches. It was early winter and the mountain air was frigid at night. She hadn't adequately prepared for this, striking out while her emotions were still high. If she'd given herself time to think things through she'd have taken some gold, enough to spend a few nights in an inn at least. She'd spent the nights barely sleeping, wrapping every spare bit of clothing around Rowan to keep her warm and shivering until she barely felt the cold any longer.
By the time she made it to the village, she had a hacking cough, her chest rattling with every breath. Rowan's little nose was running and she was sure she'd made her baby sick. She'd proven to be a terrible mother and a simpleton to boot. She should have just stayed put at the Dark Castle. Rumple didn't seem intent on coming back and at least the place was warm with plenty of food.
She tried to soothe her crying daughter, holding her close and wrapping her cloak around her, but the baby was inconsolable. Something hard took root in Belle's chest, a simmering resentment replacing the heartache she'd felt since Rumple had rejected her kiss of true love. He'd as good as thrown her out with a newborn in the middle of winter. Now he was off dealing and wheeling, probably somewhere warm and exotic, far away from the dirty little village with its muddy lanes and sagging buildings.
She hadn't stopped since early that morning, eager not to spend another night in the elements, and she could feel that her undergarments were sodden with blood, her breasts warm and heavy, aching with the need to feed Rowan. She was sore and cold and exhausted and there was no end in sight.
She found shelter on the outskirts of the village, a run down barn with one pitiful looking nag in residence. She just blinked at Belle balefully when she snuck in, plopping down in a pile of straw and unbinding Rowan from her chest. She brought the little girl to her breast, the baby suckling eagerly as Belle leaned her head back against the rough hewn wall of the barn that at least gave her shelter from the wind.
She wasn't sure how much longer this could continue. She'd have to find a job, that much was certain. She had experience as a housemaid now. That was one thing she could thank Rumplestiltskin for. Otherwise she was woefully unprepared for a life on her own. She'd lived a fairly privileged life in her father's castle. That had changed in later years, once the ogres had started to advance. The castle was crumbling, the screams of men returning from the front echoing from the courtyard outside. Belle had stepped up as best she could, sitting in on her father's council, tending to the wounded, sending for Rumplestiltskin in the end when all hope had been lost.
She had saved her people, and Belle could never regret that. Rumple had released her from their deal, but kept up his end of the bargain. The ogres wouldn't plague her father's kingdom again. Now she only had herself and Rowan to worry about.
Exhaustion started to overcome her, her stiff muscles relaxing in the relative warmth of the barn. She was on the edge of sleep, ready to fall at any moment when there was a scuffle from the open barn doors, like hooves squelching in mud. Belle's head snapped up, suddenly alert.
"Well, well, well," came a sickeningly familiar voice from behind her. "So you finally escaped the beast?"
Belle leapt to her feet, clasping Rowan tighter to her chest. Regina was looking down on her regally from atop a coal black stallion, her dark eyes burning as she took in Belle's disheveled appearance and the tiny bundle in her arms.
"You should have come to me, my dear," Regina said coldly. "I offered you aid and you refused. Now look where you are. I barely even recognize you. I knew that imp's interest would only last so long."
"Leave me alone," Belle spat, the effect of her words dampened by the chattering of her teeth.
"Oh you poor child," Regina said with a pitying shake of her head that didn't reach her cold and calculating eyes. "You need my help. And luckily for you, I'm in a charitable mood."
Regina made a sweeping gesture with her hand and all of a sudden the world was falling out from under her, magic swirling around her like a storm of purple mist. She clutched even tighter to Rowan, determined that nothing would rip her child away from her. Just when Belle thought she wouldn't be able to go another second without drawing a breath, her feet touched down on something solid, sending a jolt through her entire body.
Rowan let out a wail in her arms, and Belle bounced the baby up and down murmuring soothing words against her ear.
Now isn't this better?" came Regina's voice again and Belle spun around to see the woman seated behind a large dressing table. Gone was the imposing riding habit she'd worn earlier, replaced by a skintight velvet blue dress, her long dark hair piled up on her head in an elaborate bun. Belle had the sinking suspicion she was seeing the Queen's version of lounge wear.
"Where are we?" she asked, willing her voice not to waver. She was standing in a large room with black marble floors and vaulted ceilings. There were arched windows along the length of one side of the room showing the darkening skies outside. There was a roaring fire in the large black stone fireplace on the far end of the room, bathing the entire space in heat and light, reflecting off the gleaming marble making the stones seem alive. It was as though the whole castle was carved from molten stone, reaching up like a volcano into the night sky.
"My castle," Regina said, waving a hand around magnanimously, a wide smile on her blood red lips. "You can't tell me you'd rather spend the night in a barn."
Belle couldn't deny she was warmer already, the tightness in her chest from the cold air dissipating in the warmth of the castle. But she'd rather face the elements than the woman sitting in front of her.
"Of course I would," she spat back.
The smile slipped from Regina's face as she cast a glance down at the baby in Belle's arms.
"Don't be ridiculous," she countered. "You'd freeze to death and so would the child. And neither of you are worth anything to me dead."
"What do you want from me?" Belle demanded. "What else could you possibly take?"
Regina clapped her hands together in an expression of delight.
"Oh so you did try True Love's kiss!" she exclaimed. "I take it it didn't work."
Belle stayed silent, casting her eyes down so Regina wouldn't see the pain that flashed across them at her words.
"Or perhaps it did," Regina continued, her face astonished. "He threw you out because you could destroy him."
Belle swallowed thickly, Regina's words lancing through her chest. Only Rumple and Regina would see True Love as destruction, something to be avoided. What was it about magic that twisted people so? Had Regina always been like this? She remembered the look the Queen had given her so many weeks ago in the garden of the Dark Castle when she'd insinuated Regina knew nothing of love. What had happened to the pair of them that they'd hardened themselves to love?
"No," Belle replied. No matter how angry she was at Rumple, he hadn't truly cast her out. She could have stayed, alone and miserable in his castle. But at the time the harsh world outside had seemed infinitely kinder. "I left of my own accord."
Regina raised an eyebrow. "That was either very brave or very foolish," she clucked. "I'm sure you were protected in the confines of his castle, but out in the cold world all alone? The Dark One's child would be a lovely bit of leverage for anyone hoping to use him to their own ends."
Belle tightened her arms around Rowan, instinctively taking a step back from Regina.
"You're very lucky I found you," the Queen continued, turning to look at her reflection in the mirror as though Belle were no more than an afterthought. "Things could have turned out so much worse."
Belle had the sinking suspicion her lot in life could not possibly be any worse, but she kept her mouth shut, casting her eyes around for any possible avenue of escape. They seemed to be alone at the moment, but Belle had no doubt there were guards posted throughout the castle. And even if there weren't, Regina had magic. How far could a sick woman carrying a baby get before magic caught up with her?
She was at the mercy of the Evil Queen.
It had taken Rumplestiltskin one week to realize he was an ass.
Actually it had taken him mere moments for that realization. But it had taken a full week for him to do something about it.
He hadn't spent his week making deals as he'd told Belle. No, he'd gone back to the source of his misery. The wretched little village he'd lived in with Milah so many years ago. He'd parked himself in a tavern not unlike the one his former wife had spent so much of their marriage in and he'd ordered a drink.
No one had dared to bother him, and Rumplestiltskin had spent the intervening days trying, and failing, to see if a Dark One could drink himself into a stupor. At best the liquor burned his throat, turned his stomach and numbed his thoughts ever so slightly. But it wasn't enough to forget Belle's cornflower blue eyes, the sadness in them when he'd told her he didn't want her anymore, the sight of her huddled in the window with their child.
He wasn't sure when he'd taken to thinking of Rowan as theirs. She might well not be. He'd certainly been convinced of the fact a week ago. But at some point he realized it didn't matter. He loved Belle and he'd love her child. True Love's kiss couldn't have worked if Belle didn't have true feelings for him. No matter how powerful Regina thought she was, she couldn't have done that. Only the most powerful magic in the world could break his curse. Belle couldn't have lied.
He'd once made a promise to do nothing else, love nothing else until he'd found his son. But now he had a daughter as well and he couldn't forsake one child for another. For now, Bae would have to wait. Someone else needed him at the moment.
"Baelfire, forgive me," he muttered to himself before finishing the contents of his drink. Then with a wave of his hand he was gone.
"Belle!" he called, throwing open the Dark Castle doors and practically sprinting into the entrance hall. "Belle?"
He ran up the stairs to his bedroom where Belle had been convalescing, but the room was empty. The sheets were fresh, the bed made. The books that had been stacked at the edge of the bed were gone. Rowan's bassinet was still standing to one corner of the room, so he didn't think she'd moved back to her own quarters.
He tried the library next, but it was similarly empty. All the books were shelved, nothing out of place. It was the tidiest he'd seen the room since he'd given it to Belle over a year ago.
His heart beginning to beat harder in his chest, he finally checked the nursery. It was just as they'd left it, the circular crib in the middle of the room that he'd carved by hand standing empty. He vaguely wondered if it had ever found its intended use, if Rowan had ever slept in it. The wardrobe in the corner was standing open and Rumple's heart skipped a beat. A quick peek in showed diapers, blankets and baby clothes all missing.
She was gone.
Rumple fell to his knees in the center of the unused nursery, his heart sinking into his stomach. He didn't know what he had expected. He had all but told Belle to leave, why was he surprised that she'd done it?
Part of him had held out hope, despite everything life had shown him to the contrary, that she would still be there. That his stubborn, willful Belle wouldn't give up on him. But he'd finally pushed her too far.
He dragged himself back downstairs to the great hall, slumping into his chair and dropping his head into his hands. It was only then he noticed it. A piece of paper in the center of the table, kept in place by one of his teacups.
Rumple leapt up from the chair, snatching the paper and sending the cup crashing to the floor unheeded.
Rumplestiltskin,
After you left, I considered your words and realized you were right. There is no future for us. I had fooled myself into thinking that my feelings for you were love when I now know that it was nothing more than a silly infatuation. I thought I could love you, but how can you love someone who will not let himself be loved?
I have taken my child and myself far away from you and your influence. I pray you do not look for us.
I thank you for my freedom,
Belle
He reread her words three times before the words became illegible. It was only then he realized his tears were falling on the paper, smearing the ink until it was nothing more than black smudges on a cream surface, the message lost forever.
He crumpled the soggy paper in one hand, casting it to the ground to join the remnants of the cup he'd shattered.
In the end, it was impossible to heed Belle's request. He had to look for her, just to know she and Rowan were safe. He promised himself that once he saw them, he would leave her alone for good. If she was in danger, he would intervene, and she could yell at him until she was red in the face.
Up in his tower, he enchanted a mirror. Using a piece of Belle's hair that had been caught in the hairbrush in her bedroom and the blanket from Rowan's bassinet, he fashioned the mirror to show him their location.
A swirl of magic disrupted his reflection in the mirror as he gazed into it, rippling across the smooth surface in waves. But when it should have cleared and shown him an image of Belle, wherever she was, it continued to ripple, the magic growing darker until the glass surface shattered.
Rumple threw the useless thing down on his desk, summoning another mirror to hand and trying again, only for the same result.
Wherever Belle was, he couldn't find her.
It took another month before Rumplestiltskin had to admit defeat. He'd searched high and low, the world over, but could find neither hide nor hair of Belle or their child. She wasn't in Avonlea that he could tell. She wasn't in any of the surrounding villages. No one had seen a woman of her description with a small child anywhere.
Perhaps Belle didn't want to be found. Perhaps she'd devised a way to hide his child from him. The thought curdled Rumple's stomach. He'd lost one child through his own selfish stupidity and now it had happened again.
He returned home to his castle, his shoulders feeling heavy, a tension settling in his neck that would not go away. He had to regroup, consider other options for finding them.
He stormed in to the great hall only to feel his hackles rise. Regina was seated on the long dining table, a cup of tea in one hand and a vicious smile on her face.
"Rumple!" she exclaimed. "I was wondering if you'd ever be back. Where have you been?"
"That's no concern of yours, dearie," he growled, striding by her without so much as a glance and settling himself at his spinning wheel.
"You know, you really should get a maid," Regina tossed out the words as though they were nothing. Rumple tensed all over. "I had to summon my own tea."
Rumplestiltskin turned slowly, leveling Regina with his glare.
"What did you do?" he demanded, his voice low and menacing.
Regina just raised her eyebrows, her eyes wide and innocent. "With your old maid?" she asked. "The poor little thing you defiled? Relax, Rumple. I haven't seen the girl in months. You can rest assured I had nothing to do with that little tragedy."
Her words prickled along his spine, a heavy leaden feeling settling in his stomach.
"What tragedy?" he asked, his breath catching in his chest.
"You mean you don't know?" Regina said surprised, her hand fluttering to her chest. "Well she returned home of course. But that fiancée of hers had gone missing. And showing back up on her father's doorstep with a bastard child after spending the last year in your service? Well, that didn't go over too well with her dear papa. He shunned her. Cut her off, shut her out."
"Where is she?" Rumple demanded, standing and crossing the room to Regina.
The queen eyed him up and down, taking another sip of her tea before answering.
"He was cruel to her," she said with a smirk. "Locked her in a tower, sent in clerics to cleanse her soul of your taint. After a while, she threw herself off the tower. She died."
It's not true. He can feel it in his bones. He would know if Belle were dead, he would feel it. But the magic mirrors that failed to conjure a picture of her, his fruitless pursuit of her over the past month they only point to one thing.
"You're lying," he growled out anyway, unwilling to let Regina be right.
"Am I?" she returned.
"Yes," he said, more assuredly than he feels. "What would they have done with the child? Surely Sir Maurice would not be so callous to his own granddaughter."
"Ah," Regina said with a smile. "From what I've heard he was too afraid to dispose of the girl like he wanted to. He didn't want to insult the Dark One by drowning his bastard like an unwanted runt."
Rumple flinched at the imagery, willing himself to stay calm in front of Regina.
"She was given to some peasant or another," Regina continued. "A woodcutter and his wife living near the Endless Forest. I'm sure they'd offer little resistance if you wanted to claim her."
"We're done here," he said to Regina, already planning his trip to the Endless Forest. If Rowan was there, it would give credence to Regina's story.
"Fine," she replied, hopping off her seat on the table that would so recently have been reserved for Belle. "I have other calls to make."
She swept out of the great hall and Rumple transported himself away.
Belle had been ensconced in a tower in Regina's castle for two weeks before the woman herself paid her a visit.
It was a wide, circular room with one uncomfortable pallet bolted into the wall. A lone window was set high up in the wall, just enough that Belle could see the sky but nothing else of the world outside. Regina had claimed that Belle and her child were the ace up her sleeve should Rumplestiltskin ever prove himself a nuisance to her. After all her hopes for grand adventure, this is what it had brought her to. She was nothing more than a bargaining chip between people far more powerful than herself. She had no idea how long she would be kept in this tower, and more importantly how long Rowan would be.
If nothing else, at least they were shielded from the elements. The tower was warmer than it was outside. And Rowan had her mother, but what kind of life would a child have growing up in the confines of one small room? Would her daughter ever see the outside world?
Belle had started passing the time by telling Rowan stories. She told her about the rocky cliffs overlooking the sea in Avonlea, the smell of the breeze and chill in the air. She told her about the colorful boats that would come in to the harbor bearing fabrics and spices and tales from far off places. She told her about the pony she'd had as a child, Chestnut, and how she'd ride him through the sun dappled fields behind the castle. She told her about her father and his mountain home where the snow never melted. She described the glint of the sunlight off the straw in Rumple's hands and the way it turned seamlessly into gold right before your eyes as though it were nothing more than a trick of the light.
And with every story she told, she stowed away a little seed of hope that one day she'd see such things again and share them with her daughter.
And then Regina came.
"I need the child," she announced, striding into the tower room in a swirl of black skirts.
Belle grabbed Rowan from the place she was sleeping on the pallet and turned away from Regina, shielding the baby with her body.
"No," she said fiercely, clutching Rowan so tightly that the baby cried out. "You can't take her."
The look Regina gave her was almost bored. "I assure you I can," she said, moving forward, arms outstretched.
An almost feral sound was ripped from Belle's throat as she held her child in one arm and reached out with the other to strike at Regina. Her nails raked against the queen's face, Regina stumbling back in shock. She reached up to touch the scratches, her fingers coming away bloody.
"Well the cat has claws," Regina sneered. "But I'm afraid they're of little use."
Belle raised her hand to strike again when, with a sudden burst of magic, there was a manacle binding her wrist, shackling her to the wall. She let out a screech, bending her body around Rowan as best she could but Regina grabbed the child from her.
"No!" Belle cried out, reaching for her baby as another manacle appeared on her other arm restricting her movement. "You can't take her from me!"
Regina just cradled the crying Rowan in her arms, gazing down at the baby with manic eyes.
"Don't worry," she said calmly. "All of this will be over soon."
"What are you going to do to her?" Belle sobbed, wrenching her arms against the chains that bound them to no avail. "Please, please give her back to me."
"I'm doing her a favor," Regina said calmly. "What kind of life could a child of the Dark One possibly hope to have?"
She turned carrying the baby out of the cell, the door clunking closed behind her on heavy hinges as Belle wailed until her throat was raw and her voice gave out.
After that, she found herself giving up. She felt hollow, empty. Everything had been taken from her and she had nothing left to give. She didn't even look at the food that was slid to her through a grate in her door. She just laid on the hard pallet against the wall and waited. She wasn't sure what she was waiting for. Perhaps the embrace of death, so she could be reunited with her child. Maybe she waited for her father, someone, anyone to come charging in and free her. She didn't wait for Rumple. He had forsaken her.
She didn't track the passage of time, had no idea how long she'd been waiting. Sometimes she would scream out Rumple's name in her sleep, cursing him and calling for him by turns. She cried for her child until there were no tears left in her. She was no longer Belle of the Marchlands. She was no longer a mother. She was no longer the daughter of Sir Maurice or the maid of the Dark One or even the consort of Rumplestiltskin. She was nothing.
There was smoke swirling outside the one high window of her cell, a purple mist growing ever closer. Belle couldn't find it in herself to be afraid. She watched as it drew nearer, enveloped her, and welcomed the calming embrace of oblivion.