Belle fought to keep her emotions on a leash. Disappointment warred through her, battling her determination to be strong for her father's sake. She peered through the open doors, her heart racing, wanting to be sure that she wasn't mistaken.

Crestfallen, she flicked her gaze towards her father.

"Well, that was a bit of a let-down," said a mocking voice from behind.

She whipped her head around, heart catching in her throat.

And then she came face to face with some creature.

Although Belle's books were filled with knowledge about dark ones and their powers, none of them bothered with illustrations or even listing ways to spot them. The advice seemed to be that you were supposed to keep as far away from them as possible. Besides, she could almost feel his presence in the room and it had nothing to do with the sudden tense stances of the guards. No, she could sense the magic radiating from him, power almost as intoxicating as perfume.

The thing now sitting in her father's chair looked half like a man, and half like something else entirely. He had a man's body, a nose and a mouth and eyes. Two arms and two legs too. But he would never pass for a human. For one thing, his eyes were large and reptilian, his pupils only pinpoints swimming in the centre of his irises. And his skin… Belle chided herself. It was wrong to stare, and she knew that she shouldn't, but it was hard to look away from the giggling creature in her father's chair when his skin was glittering, like gold dust under sunlight.

Gaston drew his sword, the blade snickering as he held it before him. This time, Belle couldn't blame him. Fear churned in her stomach, almost strong enough to erase the speech she'd fabricated in her mind, the one she'd prepared in case Rumplestiltskin showed up.

"You sent me a message—" the Dark One began, his hand doing some odd, swift movement in the air, like a fluttering bird. "Something about, um, help, help. We're dying. Can you save us?"

Belle flinched at the uncontrolled malice in his voice. He sounded exactly like the monster her books described. He didn't even seem to notice Gaston, who advanced towards him as he spoke. She turned her attention to her father instead, wondering if he would take Rumplestiltskin seriously. She couldn't be sure that he would, she knew how much he loathed being made fun of, but if he rejected the Dark One's aid…

"Now the answer is…" He continued, rising to his feet. He reached out a hand to slap away Gaston's sword, like a cat playing with a ball of yarn. "Yes. I can."

He threw one of her father's wooden soldiers towards a nearby guard. Belle's eyes narrowed. It wasn't like her to miss some sleight of hand. Unless he'd used his magic, of course.

She frowned. Apparently her books had decided to leave out the bit about him being a showman too. A pity. She could have used information like that to her advantage.

At the sight of Gaston's puzzled expression, Belle almost felt a pang of pity for him. His sword hovered by his side, as though he couldn't work out if he should keep it out or put it away. With each passing second, it became clearer and clearer that the blade didn't scare Rumplestiltskin in the slightest. For the first time in his life, Gaston probably felt as useless as Belle often did in this room.

"Yes, I can protect your little town," Rumplestiltskin continued, his hand curling in the air. He turned it into a finger, pointing towards her father.

Belle knew what he was going to say next, but the words still sent shivers down her spine.

"For a price."

Of course, someone as powerful as the Dark One never did anything for free. He convinced everyone to make deals with him, from princesses to shepherds, from witches to pirates. Nobody was exempt. And nobody ever truly understood the cost of their deal. They paid their side of the bargain, although Belle couldn't call to mind a single example in her books where they ended up better off.

This little piece of research should have made her change her mind about asking her father to call for Rumplestiltskin's aid. After all, even Anna, her old friend from Arendale, told her of the steep costs.

But if Belle and her family didn't pay the price, she doubted any of them would live to see the dawn.

"We sent you a promise of gold," her father cut in.

She resisted the urge to shake her head at that. Her father should have known better. All the rumours that reached Avonlea told of his strange magic, which could turn straw into gold.

Instead, Rumplestiltskin uttered her thoughts in his teasing voice, as though he'd read them straight from her mind. His voice dripped with condescension.

"Ah, no. You see, um, I uh make gold. No, what I want is something a bit more special."

His emphasis on the word turned Belle's stomach. What would he ask for? And more importantly, would they be able to meet his demands? Everything in their town depended on him now.

"My price… is her."

For a moment, the room seemed to spin. Belle's breath caught in her throat as he pointed straight at her, meeting her eyes for the first time. It took all of her concentration not to flinch under his reptilian gaze.

How ironic, she told herself sternly. One moment you wish everyone would pay attention to you once in a while, and all of a sudden when your wish is granted, you don't want it any more.

But he couldn't mean… no, Belle shoved the thought away with a grimace. Women in this land expected to be used like a bargaining chip, frittered away by their families in advantageous marriages, but this. This made her feel like little more than a piece of meat. At least with Gaston there was a chance at a happy ending, some possibility that things would turn out okay. Could she say the same if she agreed to go with the Dark One? He seemed more like a creature than a man, after all. And she couldn't imagine doing all the things her mother used to whisper to her that men expected their wives to do, not to…to him.

Before she could open her mouth to speak, Gaston's arm forced her stumbling back. All eyes in the room fell on her, and she could feel herself beginning to blush at the attention. She kept her gaze fixed on Rumplestiltskin, half-hoping that he would burst into his childish laughter and tell them all he'd been playing a trick.

But he said nothing as her father and fiancé continued to stare at her. The small glint of calculation in their expressions made Belle's skin crawl.

"No," her father shouted, with less conviction in his voice than she liked.

"The young lady is engaged. To me," Gaston said, his arm still thrown up as though to hide Belle from view.

Rumplestiltskin stepped towards them. Though Gaston didn't draw his sword again, she noticed that he kept his back very straight and his eyes fixed on the creature before him, as though he suspected he might lash out.

The Dark One waved away his words with a flutter of his hands.

"I wasn't asking if she was engaged," he said, as though it was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard. Both his hands were up now. Belle filed this away for future reference. They crossed over his chest in the place where his heart should be.

His black, shriveled up heart, if Belle guessed right.

"I'm not looking for love." His voice quirked up at the final word, as though he couldn't hide his distaste. "I'm looking for a caretaker, for my rather large estate."

Belle's frantic heartbeat slowed a little at this. At least he didn't expect her to marry him. She repressed a shudder at the thought. Still, she didn't know the first thing about being a caretaker. What did it even require? Though she'd watched the servants bustling around the castle, dusting and fetching clothes to be washed, she never thought to wonder what they did the rest of the time. But… she could figure it out.

He watched her thinking it over with a malicious smile on his face, as though he already knew which direction her decision was heading. Belle bit her tongue to keep from saying something withering to him. It wouldn't be the best start to her new life as a maid.

"It's her, or no deal," he added.

"Get out," her father said, his voice rising. "Leave!"

Gaston shoved his arm out, wrenching Belle back a few inches. She scowled. Did he really think she was so stupid she couldn't move out of Rumplestiltskin's path on her own? Anger flared up inside of her as she squared her shoulders.

And all of a sudden, she realized that Rumplestiltskin's eyes had found her again. Was it her imagination, or did they have a mischievous glint to them? Hmph. He would probably go off and laugh about this all afterwards, and never mind that it would cost them their lives.

No. Belle squared her shoulders. She wouldn't let him leave without making this deal.

"As you wish," he said, heading for the door.

Everyone watched him walk towards it. Her heart thudded against her ribcage. He didn't seem to be bluffing.

"No, wait," she called, unable to stand the thought of defeat.

Gaston's and her father's heads whipped around, their eyes wide with shock. They were acting as though the candelabras had suddenly spoken, she thought with a sting of bitterness.

Still, Rumplestiltskin halted, and she felt a surge of relief. When he turned around to face them however, he couldn't hide the small smile of triumph tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Belle placed her hand on Gaston's arm and then stepped around him, coming to a stop before Rumplestiltskin. She sucked in a breath at the thought of what she must say and what it would mean. Her family would survive tonight. Her kingdom would not fall to the ogres.

But only if she agreed to this deal.

"I will go with him," she said.

Her words were met with more giggling.

"I forbid it," Gaston cried out as her father shouted his objections too.

Belle's frustration bubbled up inside of her. She spun around to face them, trying her best to ignore the gleeful expression on Rumplestiltskin's face. They were nothing but performers to him, acting out a family drama for his satisfaction.

"No one decides my fate but me," she said, her gaze sliding from Gaston to her father, trying to make them understand. This was her life, and she would consign it to be spent as the Dark One's maid if it meant she could save the people she loved. "I shall go."