Chapter 32. Nothing

Please read the author's note at the end of this chapter.

There was nothing do to. That was the thought that ran through Belle's head each day when she woke alone. A week after Rumple brought her here, she had woken to find all of her books piled on her vanity. That had brought her some comfort, until she grabbed one of the books to read: Bae's favorite. She cried for half the morning after that, and the books were left untouched.

Belle spent the first month of her new life in a whirlwind of loneliness and solitude. Her days were spent sleeping and venturing from her room to the kitchen, the great hall, and back to her room. She was lazy and sluggish, and the fact that Rumplestiltskin was nowhere to be found didn't help matters. She had no one to talk to, no one to help her sort her thoughts. She was alone.

That loneliness brought forth a feeling of restlessness, and two months after she arrived at the castle, Belle decided to stop feeling sorry for herself and actually do something. She began to wander around the castle, each day growing a little more brave and venturing farther from her room than the day before. She found an armory, half full of all kinds of weapons. She discovered rooms dedicated to gold, to baubles, to paintings. Her husband was becoming a hoarder she realized. Was it because they had so little for so long? Or was he trying to fill the gap of losing their son with things?

She wandered back down to the great hall, glad for the familiarity the room offered. She sat at the table wearily, then frowned. It was so dark. Resting her chin in her hand, she glanced around the room, dimly lit by scattered candles, then her eyes fell on the curtains. They were large, spanning almost to the ceiling. The curtains were dark and heavy, and Belle felt her fingers itch to rip away the fabric and bring forth the light that waited on the other side. She hadn't ventured outside since she arrived here, partially out of fear that she wouldn't be able to find her way back and partly because she worried that Rumple would come looking for her and discover her missing. Despite her wish to have nothing to do with him, she remained adamant and faithful to her promise. It was the one thing she would never do, leave him. As angry as she was, she couldn't do it to either of them. He was all she had left.

Determination seemed to strengthen her, and Belle stood deciding firmly that the curtains had to go. She needed sun. She was wilting; she could see it in the dark reflection of her vanity mirror. She looked ghostly, a lost spirit wandering the halls of her own personal hell. But no more, she decided. She was tired of mourning. She was tired of darkness and hiding. It was time to step into the light once more.

She ran out of the room, spirit renewed, and searched for a ladder. After looking for over an hour, Belle grumbled to herself and stomped back into the great hall. "Damn it," she cursed, the foul language foreign on her tongue. It felt good, and so she cursed again, this time damning the curtains, and then giggled. It was madness, she thought, to find pleasure in cursing at inanimate objects, but she hadn't spoken to anyone in so long, perhaps this was just the natural progression. "Next I'll be talking to the china," she giggled to herself, then laughed outright, finding the very thought hilarious. When she calmed herself, wiping the tears from her eyes, she sighed dramatically and said, "I need a ladder."

A ladder appeared a moment later, and Belle bit her lip in anguish. She hated using magic. She hated magic. But she had no one else to look to for help, and she had already searched for one herself. She had no choice but to rely on the magic Rumple had to accomplish her task. Shrugging, Belle climbed the ladder and took a moment to study the curtains. Never in her life had she had curtains. Her father had large pieces of fabric that were fixed to look like curtains, of course, but she never had real curtains of fine material such as these. It was almost a shame to take them down, but given the choice between darkness and light, Belle knew the curtains couldn't stay. She tugged once, surprised at how heavy they were. She leaned forward precariously, sticking her head under the curtains to get a better look at what she was doing. When she figured it out, she grabbed the curtains and pulled, and the material gave way, coming off its hinges and collapsing to the ground. Light flooded in, wrapping Belle up in warmth, and she closed her eyes in pure delight. She leaned against the ladder, basking in the rays that poured in, feeling truly warm for the first time since she arrived.

After some time she climbed down the ladder and moved it to the next curtains. She didn't stop until the entire room was bathed in sunlight, practically blinding her as light bounced off of silver and gold and other trinkets that occupied the room. Belle smiled in satisfaction, kicking all the curtains into a pile near the back corner of the room. She'd deal with them later, she decided, but first she needed some tea.

She called forth the tea tray and fixed herself a cup. She sank down in one of the chairs, enjoying the sight of trees and sky and sun, then turned her head to look around the room. Rumple had been busy it seemed, as she took in all the items he had stored here. There was a goblet made of gold, a fleece, a strange hammer. Each item sat on a pedestal, and the pedestals lapped around the room. Only a few were empty, and Belle wondered if she would find something new the next time she came into the room.

Standing, tea cup in hand, she took a turn around the room, looking at all the trinkets her husband must have dealt for. She touched them gingerly, afraid they might be magic and do…something… but her curiosity to learn outweighed her hesitance. If they were dangerous, he wouldn't leave them in a room he knew her to frequent. She knew him better than that.

Though now she wondered if she did know him at all.

She turned to go back to her seat, but paused as the dust floating in the air caught her eye. She looked down at a pedestal and realized that there was a thick layer of dust covering it and the goblet she had stopped to admire. Belle ran her finger over the pedestal, looking in disgust as her finger came up gray and gritty. Looking around, Belle noticed for the first time really, that the room was a mess. Her own contribution lay in the corner.

"A woman's work is never done," she said to herself. "Looks like I have something do to."

Just as her search for a ladder had proved useless, so did her search for cleaning supplies. "He's making it so I have to use magic," Belle concluded half amused, then sighed before summoning a broom, bucket, rags, and lye. She started in the kitchen, organizing things to her preference, then moved on to the great hall. She swept, dusted, mopped, and found joy in her work. It wasn't much, but she had purpose again, and it was such a triumph over herself that she couldn't help but laugh as she dumped the filthy water out and filled it with fresh, hot water.

After the great hall, she cleaned her own room, scrubbing it spotless. Then she discovered a small shelf in one of the many closets she was cleaning out to become her supply closet, and set about nailing it to the wall in her bedroom, next to her bed. She placed all her books on it, grateful that for the first time, her books had a proper place. It was another small triumph, and Belle could feel the bitterness and anger begin to dissipate. Perhaps, even after everything, she would be all right.

~000~

Another month passed, this time quite pleasantly. Belle had cleaned every room she found, and even began to take inventory of all the items within. It was a pointless task, but one she enjoyed. She organized as she went, dragging large paintings and carrying boxes of things around their respective rooms until there seemed to be some order. The floor wasn't scattered with swords and tapestries anymore, and Belle found the more she cleaned, the better she felt. She was useful again, in her own way, and it brought the comfort she sought, if only in part.

It became routine to clean, and after Belle had organized all the rooms she dared venture to, she went back and started over. She hadn't explored all the castle; she was certain she hadn't even explored half of it. But the eleven rooms she had taken over as her personal project were enough for now, she reasoned, and once she finished cleaning them all, she went back and started again.

She was dusting the great hall once more and noticed absently that there were new items, sitting pretty on columns that lined the entire room. It was the only way she knew her husband came and went from this place, the increasing number of trinkets. She knew he acquired them in deals, but she knew nothing else about them. As she dusted, she observed each object carefully. Many looked normal, but Belle knew not to be deceived by their basic appearance. Though she couldn't help but wonder what her husband could possibly want with these things. He was never around, as far as she knew, and she had no desire yet to summon him to ask. So instead she made up scenarios of what things were, and why they would be useful. The goblet perhaps was magical and never ran out of what was poured into it.

"That would be a drunkard's dream come true," she said as she swept her rag inside the goblet, removing the slight dust that had gathered. What Belle could never imagine was what made these people give up these items in a deal with the Dark One. Were people truly so desperate?

She paused. Yes, she thought. She knew that desperation well. She would give anything to have her son back.

Banishing that thought, she continued to dust, marveling at the new trinkets that adorned the columns and smiling at the familiarity of the old. She walked on, content to only dust half of the room for today, then stopped as she noticed a podium that stood out further from the others. On it sat a wand. Belle felt a feeling of uneasiness wash over her at the sight. She knew fairies carried wands, and it gave her chills to think of what could make a fairy so desperate that she would call on the Dark One.

It was with that thought Belle realized she truly had no idea what her husband's deals were about. True she had made up her own stories and attached them to objects for amusement, but those were only idle thoughts to occupy a mind in need of stimulation. What were these objects? Were they important? Were they going to help Rumplestiltskin find their son? It was with shame that Belle realized she didn't know because she'd made it clear she didn't want to know. And by refusing to know what her husband was doing, she no longer knew her husband. Even while standing in the bright light of the great hall, she was still utterly in the dark.

An angry shout and a loud crash startled her out of her dark revelation. Suddenly concerned that something awful had happened, Belle rushed from the room, following the sound of wreckage and rampage. She came to a door, one she knew she'd never seen before and threw it open, gasping when she saw Rumplestiltskin standing in a room trashed in the wake of some outburst.

"Are you all right?" She asked, her first words to him in months, "I heard a crash- is that a hand?"

Rumplestiltskin glanced down at the floor where Belle was staring in horror and snarled. "Yes. And it's completely useless."

"I'm s-sure it is…considering it's not attached to its owner." She blinked and swallowed thickly, "Why… do you have a- a hand?" She felt ill, seeing the mutilated limb lying in the midst of rubble. It was disgusting, but Belle couldn't look away, irrational worried that it might spring to life and move. With Rumplestiltskin, she was certain it was possible.

"It belonged to a no good ruffian who made a deal with me then backed out at the last minute." With another cry of anger, Rumplestiltskin grabbed a chair that was overturned next to him and hurled it against the wall, causing Belle to jump.

"So you took his hand?" She asked, her voice squeaking as she tried to control herself. The longer she looked at it, the sicker she felt.

"Yes!" Rumplestiltskin cried, "He was holding a bean! A bean that should have been mine! But the bastard tricked me and now I'm back where I started which is nowhere!" He growled and kicked at the rubbish at his feet.

This was what she had been waiting for, she realized with a start. Had she not just been thinking about this? About not knowing what her husband did? Perhaps this was an opportunity to try and mend the gap she had placed between them. It was worth a shot at any rate. Belle stepped forward and tentatively reached out to Rumplestiltskin, "Maybe there's another way?" She asked. Rumplestiltskin glared and jerked away from her.

"What would you know about it?" He sneered.

Belle stood silent for a moment as she composed herself. She didn't know anything. And it was by her own doing. "Nothing, I suppose," she replied calmly, dryly. "I suppose I know nothing." She turned on her heel and fled the room. Rumplestiltskin trembled in anger and let out another gut wrenching scream before vanishing in a cloud of smoke.

~000~

Belle stormed into her room and slammed the door. She paused a moment, realizing it felt good, so she threw the door open once more and slammed it as hard as she could. She did it once more, letting out a scream of frustration as she did it, then turned and flopped down on her bed. She felt better, if not completely childish. She lay for a long while, staring at the vaulted ceiling, her eyes following the wood and looking for abstract shapes in the design. It was mindless, but she felt if she didn't do something to calm herself, she would storm downstairs and rage at her husband for being such a pig-headed buffoon. But she was better than that. Sighing, she rolled over and fell asleep, hoping that a few hours unconscious would help calm her.

She awoke, blinking in confusion as she realized it was dawn. "I was more exhausted than I realized," she said to herself, before standing and stretching. She knew she should go about her day as normal, but she felt herself regressing back to the lazy sadness that had held her captive not that long ago. She didn't want to downstairs, nor was she very hungry, so instead she went over to the shelf she had put up and grabbed a book. Crawling onto the bed, she flopped onto her stomach and for the first time since her son had vanished, she began to read.

Hours later, there was a tentative knock at Belle's door. She looked up from her book sharply, eyes wide. After a moment, there was another knock, this one barely louder, and Belle struggled to speak.

"C-come in."

The door opened slowly, and Rumplestiltskin peeked his head in, moving back quickly when he noticed the book in Belle's hands.

"I'm not going to throw it, if that's what you're worried about," she said as she sat on her knees. The door opened wider, and Rumple stepped inside, looking miserable. He stood for several long moments, regarding Belle curiously. She took the opportunity to observe him as well. When the silence began to grow uncomfortable, Belle shifted, wondering if she should say something. "No," she thought to herself, "He came to me. He will speak when he's ready."

Finally, he cleared his throat and glanced down at his feet, looking every bit the awkward young man who'd been so afraid of asking to court her. She couldn't fight the smile that touched her lips. This wasn't the Dark One come to fight, she realized. This was her husband come to talk.

"I wanted to…apologize," he said at length. "I-" he sighed, and ran a hand through his hair, clearly having no idea what he wanted to say. "I had such hope," he whispered, "With that bean. It was going to be over. Now I'm no closer than I was before."

"Can you find the man?" Belle asked hesitantly, wanting to help but having no idea how. "Perhaps trade his hand for the bean?"

Rumple chuckled and stepped closer, "My clever wife," he said gently, "I went after him. He's gone."

"Gone?" Belle asked, worry gripping her. She placed the book to her side. "As in-"

"He used the bean," Rumple explained, "He's gone."

Belle could see the storm in Rumplestiltskin's eyes. There was such anger there, at this man who'd tricked him. And anger at himself. It made her own ire at him diminish slightly, seeing how conflicted and determined he was to reach their son. It seemed that the months apart had calmed her considerably; she no longer despised Rumplestiltskin for what he'd done. The hurt and anger were still there, but it only simmered now. Solitude and quiet could apparently do a great deal to mellow one out.

"Oh," she said at last, not surprised when a tear slid down her cheek.

Rumplestiltskin stepped forward, and for a moment Belle hoped that he might try to comfort her. It had been so long since she had seen or touched her husband that the thought of even a brush of his fingers excited her. It was a surprise, to find desire still there in the midst of all the bitter hurt, but she was grateful for it nonetheless and waited almost eagerly for her husband to reach her. He paused, his fingers a breath away from her, then lowered his hand. Belle sighed.

"It's…. nice to see you," he offered softly.

Belle nodded. "It's nice to see you too."

"Really?" He sounded so awed, so amazed and pitiful that Belle couldn't help but cry.

"Yes," she admitted, before pausing and wiping at her eyes. "I'm sorry," she said, "I'm being silly."

He shook his head and produced a handkerchief for her. She took it gratefully and blew her nose, then focused on taking deep breaths so she could calm down. Rumple stood awkwardly, watching as Belle collected herself. She didn't know what to and it seemed neither did he. How had they become so close only to fall so far apart? Deciding it might be best to get some grievances out of the way, in the hopes of making their lives easier, Belle opened her mouth to speak.

"Rumple, I-"

A loud crash sounded, and Rumple glanced away with alarm.

"What was that?" Belle asked, worried.

The tenderness that had warmed Rumplestiltskin's features melted, and suddenly he was the cold Dark One again. "I think, my dear," he said menacingly, "We have a visitor."

He turned to leave, but Belle sprang up to follow. Rumple turned to stop her. "Stay here," he pleaded but her eyes narrowed and she shook her head.

"I'm going with you."

He didn't have the time nor desire to fight so with a resigned sigh, he motioned for her to follow him.

Author's Notes:

Happy 4th to my fellow Americans and a happy belated Canada Day to my Canadians (and beta, sirensong24).

Yes, that was Hook's hand. No, we're not going to actually meet Hook.

On that note, I want to take a moment to explain something, since I'm beginning to get questions on the matter. I thought long and hard about this, debated heavily with myself, and pleaded with my betas to help. After all that, and making an excel timeline of not only canon!Rumbelle but The Valley!Rumbelle, I made the decision that the timeline in which Rumple searches for his son and interacts with other characters in The Valley was going to be heavily condensed. Meaning, it's not going to take centuries for Rumple to find a way to his son. This also means that interactions with characters, events, and character's ages are going to be altered in some respects for the sake of this story. You'll see examples coming up soon.

I hope that makes sense. Thank you everyone for staying with me this long. It means the world to me.

I'm currently writing Chapter 44. I anticipate having no more than 50 chapters.

Chapter 33 will be up July 11!

Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time. All rights belong to ABC, Adam Horowitz, and Eddy Kitsis.