This room was darker than the rest and the air felt thicker somehow. One candle burned against the far wall which served to illuminate everything in part, the rest was covered by flickering shadows. Belle squinted, making out the faint shape of a battered looking chest furthest away from the light, rows of odd little trinkets lined up on several crooked shelves. Baskets of gold thread glinted like balls of amber wool, ends hanging over the edge from where they had been last spun. The only clue of the rooms actual purpose was a large bed, certainly bigger than the others, which stood in the centre of the room. Its feet were shaped to be some kind of animal feet, but what animal Belle couldn't tell, a semi-transparent black fabric hung over the entire thing like a funeral veil from a canopy above. The realisation that this must be his room sent a flourish of excitement through her as if she were entering some forbidden realm. Cautiously, Belle sauntered over to the bed, absentmindedly running her fingers through the fabric and watching it ripple. There was no evidence of Rumple's having slept there, she noticed, no creased sheets or imprint of where he may have lain. It smelt of him though, the entire room, much more than the rest of the house. There was more gold dust to it glinted like confetti in the air.
Everything seemed too still, but not unlike the dark Belle had become used to stillness. It was strange how sometimes the house felt so alive and other times entirely dead, but even during these times of stillness Belle always remained sceptical, treating the silence the same as that of a sleeping lion. Most of all Belle missed music, she missed the sound of human feet clattering on tiled floors around her, laughing, talking. Of course she spoke to Rumple, mostly because she feared she would go mad if she did not, but it was almost impossible to get past the sneer, the odd air of elegance mixed with his offhandedness which only served to exasperate her. Predominantly he would speak to her as if she were a child, the rest of the times in riddles she was sure had no logical answer and often related to something different entirely.
Ignoring the bed for a moment Belle took a few steps towards the chest she had first spotted in the candlelight, running her eyes over the gold inlay which swirled and dipped on the dark wood of the box. The hinges were rusty, that was obvious, and so even if the chest wasn't locked she very much doubted she would be able to open the thing. Nonetheless Belle pushed her slim fingers into the small groove under the lid and pulled upwards, surprised when this caused the chest to creak. She tried again, this time pulling harder, eyes, closed in the effort, feeling that it was just about to give... Come one she thought Come on... The lid suddenly gave way, springing open with a loud clash against the stone wall, forcing her to fall backwards in a cloud of dust. The hard ground coming into contact with her back caused her to let out a small shriek before pulling herself back up again. Belle coughed as she wiped the grey from her cheeks and patted out the worst of it from her hair. She narrowed her eyes at the open chest emerging through the powder floating in the air, straining to see what was within, but all she could make out was white. With a wave of her hand it became all too clear – bones.
Bell stood, the abruptness of which caused her to shuffle uneasily on her feet and grab hold of one of the posts from the bed. She had seen a lot of things over the past weeks: jars full of odd coloured liquids, putrefied crow's feet, but nothing quite so obviously gruesome. The sight both revolted and fascinated her, she was unable to look away and unable to force herself close enough the shut the chest again. In this state of limbo Belle found herself crouching lower again, just enough to get a better look, deliberating if they were animal or human. Unsurprisingly, and despite her lack of Knowles in the subject, she decided upon the latter. But something wasn't right, she noticed how they piled up awkwardly in the centre when she could see no whiteness below. The realisation struck that they must be covering something, and she was sure that this time it would be worse than bits of skeleton. Ok Belle, you can do this the small voice in her head urged, despite her better judgement that she should just close the thing and leave. She hesitated for a long moment before tentatively picking up one of the bones between two of her fingers and moving it to one side, repeating the action several times until a piece of dark fabric came into view. Without hesitation Belle reached out with both hands and gently lifted it out from the chest, realising instantly that it contained something heavy. She moved closer to the candlelight and unwrapped one dark fold after the next, hands shaking in anticipation, until the content was revealed. A crooked metal dagger bearing the words 'Rumplestilitskin'.
"I think you'll find that's mine, dearie."
The voice caused her to drop the knife, sending it clattering to the ground. She wheeled round only to see that Rumple had appeared only a few feet behind her – gods how she wished her would stop doing that, with a wild look in his eyes. Belle quickly picked it up and clutched it against her chest, impulsively meeting his glare with her own round eyes.
"I'm sorry...I mean, the chest, and...oh...the vase, I'm so sorry. You see there was a rat, which is strange because in all my time here I've never seen one before...but it..."
"I don't care about that" He cut her short, reaching out his hand. "Give it to me."
Belle knew he was talking about the dagger by the way he curled his lip every time she ran her thumb over the blade. Whatever this was she knew it was not just any old thing, she could literally feel the magic fizzing beneath the metal, and realised that this might be her only chance to escape her imprisonment.
"Why?" she asked, her gaze not leaving his, "What's so special about it?"
"That is none of your business, now give it to me." All of the joking had drained from his face, revealing only anger and what Belle assumed to be fear. Seizing the upper hand she turned her hands, pointing the blade directing at rumples chest.
"Get out of my way"
"You have no idea what you're dealing with" Rumple growled.
"No you don't know what you're dealing with. Now move or i'll..."
"Stab me? Gut me like a fish" The jeer creeping slowly back into his voice "What exactly are you planning on doing dearie?"
"Leaving." Belle spat.
"Ah ah ah..." He chided "Don't forget our deal. There is no way you can leave this castle without my releasing you, it's all in the contract you see." He smiled "Unless, of course, I'm dead."
"Then you have left me no choice." Belle stepped closer, hands visibly shaking despite her position.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you" Rumple sang "you see, if you stab me with that you will be able to escape, oh yes, but let not forget that all magic has a price, and that dagger, dearie, is magic. "
Belle hesitated. Rumple pressed one long finger against the tip of the blade, guiding it upwards, stepping closer so that the edge rested against his chest.
"and that price will be yours to pay" he continued, letting out a giggle before dropping his voice "you would become like me, a beast, a carrier of dark magic. Then, my dear Belle, you will truly know what it is like to be a prisoner."