Opening yet another door that lead to a long and winding corridor, Belle finally admitted to herself that she was completely, utterly and hopelessly lost.

"It's like new corridors just spring up out of nowhere every day!" she huffed to herself, her voice bouncing off the highly decorated walls. She had yet to see a single person in the three weeks she had been at the Dark Castle. All her life she had been surrounded by people, being that she was the youngest of three and lived in a large home filled with servants. Even when she was alone in her father's library or reading in her bedroom, she always was comforted to know that in the very next room or somewhere in the house there was somebody, living out their own story. But not in the Dark Castle – not with the Dark One. That's what they called him she found out a week after she had arrived at the home of Rumpelstiltskin. A beggar had pounded on the massive oak doors that guarded the entrance into the castle, Belle almost losing her footing when the poor man tumbled onto her after she pulled the doors open.

"I wish to speak with the dark one missus…" the man had rasped, his lips were chapped and revealed blackened teeth, years of decay. His face had little patches of purple frost bite from the harsh winter that surrounded the place; his clothing tattered and hung onto him in a wet mass. She realised as she helped the man back onto his feet that he must have travelled to the castle on foot. She glanced behind his shoulder looking into the blistering cold, the snow whipping around madly as the storm worsened. Not letting go of the man's arm, Belle heaved the door back into place, stopping the whiteness from further entering the house. She turned back to the beggar who had fallen back onto his knees, his face pressed to her feet as he repeated his request to speak to the Dark One. Belle knelt down and again brought the man to his feet, he not once meeting her eye.

"You're nearly frozen to death, you must come inside and warm up, and I can make tea, maybe find something for you to eat…"

The beggar glanced up at the little beauty, blinking his eyes in response to her warm smile, eyes large and sympathetic, as if he had never witnessed warmth or kindness in his entire life. Belle straightened, realising that perhaps he really had never witness kindness before. Without another word she gently guided the man around the large table that sat in the center of the foyer and led him through a few doors until they entered the main hall, a large fire lit. Leading him quickly to one of the large leather seats that sat close to the fire, Belle gently sat the man down, drawing up a blanket that had been lying on the arm of the chair. She then walked over to the long wooden table where she had left her tea things, quickly pouring a generous cup of tea and walking it over to the poor man shivering by the fire.

"Here, drink this, it may help with the cold." The man greedily took the cup and immediately downed the whole thing, not once flinching at the heat that seared down his throat. Belle quickly brought the whole pot back to her new guest, sensing that one cup would not suffice. After a second cup was poured the man then opening stared at the woman before him, really looking her over. Belle had taken to stoking the fire with a poker, making the flames a bit larger as she tossed another log onto the fire. She glanced back at the man, making him stare back at his cup in shame.

"Forgive me missus, I was not expecting…" he looked at her again, "well… you."

Belle smiled softly again, folding her hands on top of her blue dress. The man surveyed the room again, taking in the tapestries and trinkets, his eyes wide at the grandeur of the room.

"I aint never been in a place quite like this…" he whispered, sipping the warm beverage again, he was beginning to get the feeling back into his hands, the fire glowed on his dry face, increasing the deep lines that had set, his eyes red from exhaustion. He looked at Belle again, this time with new curiosity in his eyes.

"Are you the lady of the house?" he asked, eyeing her dress that was finer than any he had seen, though it did look a bit plain to be the dress of the mistress of the Dark Castle. The glint of a find gold chain and dark blue jewel sparkled around the beauty's neck. Definitely not the necklace of a servant he thought, and too clean and proper to be of lower birth like him.

Belle blinked her brow furrowing as she thought about what he had asked. She decided not to answer him; instead she wished to know what he had been doing all the way there.

"You came to see… the Dark One?" she asked, the name giving her shivers as she said it.

The beggar's eyes widened as he remembered his purposes. Before he could answer the hairs on their necks began to stand as the familiar sensation of magic filled the room.

"Who is that, in my chair?"

The beggars face paled at the imp's voice, Belle glancing up behind the leather backing of the chair to where Rumpelstiltskin was standing, a wicked gleam in his eye. In a puff of reddish smoke the dark one rematerialized between Belle and the beggar, Rumpelstiltskin grabbing the poor shivering man by the shirts and lifting him up onto his feet, the force making the beggar cry out in fear. Rumpelstiltskin threw the man onto the floor near the centre table, and grinned, slowly walking toward the quaking man as he tried to crab crawl backwards in vain as he hit the leg of the massive table. Rumpelstiltskin's leather boots echoed off the floor as he neared to the man, leaning down so that his face was close so close to the beggars, that Rumpelstiltskin could smell the fear dripping down the beggars face, eyes wide and mouth slack.

Belle was frozen at her spot in front of the fire, completely dumb from fright. She suddenly remembered herself, realising she had to interject and rescue the poor man.

"He was cold…" She began; Rumpelstiltskin had grabbed at the man's neck and froze in place when she spoke. "He-he was cold and so I let him in. look at him, I think he's injured…" she waved at the purplish black patches on the man's face. Rumpelstiltskin tilted his head toward his main, his upper lip curling in a sneer, tightening his grip on the man's throat. The beggar sputtered his pleases to the Dark One as he tried to swallow in the air that was being squeezed out of his lungs. Belle's face became suddenly alarmed as the beggars face turned a shade of blue. She became enraged suddenly and lunged at her masters' arm, trying to pull it from the beggars' throat, Rumpelstiltskin only smiling wickedly as he unlatched his hand from the man's throat and threw Belle backwards with such force the air went out of her lungs when she hit the floor. The beggar was gasping at the new air that burned his lungs as he pathetically crawled back towards the double doors he had entered through, passing Belle who had slowly sat up rubbing her head in pain. Rumpelstiltskin was suddenly at the doors blocking the man's path, the beggar looking up and asking for mercy.

"Well, I admit it was brave of you to bear the weather…" Rumpelstiltskin sang, a flourish of his hands to the drawn curtains that hid the large windows overlooking the castle grounds. "Brave or stupid, I'm going to go with stupid however." He narrowed his eyes, smiling at the Beggar who was now crying pathetically. Belle had not moved from her spot on the ground, only looked from master to beggar, not daring to say another word, though her face was still filled with anger and a tinge of hatred.

"Please," the beggar began, folding his hands in front of him as though in prayer, "please, I only seek your help, Dark One." The beggar bowed and kissed Rumpelstiltskin's dark boot in fealty. A muscle in the Dark Ones face twitched at the gesture, his amber eyes darkening at the gesture. He snarled and waved his hand at the beggar,

"Get up," he hissed moving away from the beggar, the man rising to his knees, not daring to look at the Dark Ones face. He stole a glance at Belle, her chest heaving slightly as she observed the proceedings.

"Please Dark One, I meant no disrespect, and the missus was only being kind, don't punish her…"

Rumpelstiltskin suddenly remembered his maid, narrowing his eyes at her, her anger only rising. She finally was able to stand shakily to her feet, squaring her shoulders, but she dared not take a step further, for fear that her master would only hurt the poor shivering man more if she did.

Finally after a long pause, Rumpelstiltskin giggled, putting on his menacing business face and sauntered over to the large table in the center, conjuring up a cup of tea.

"Well, Dearie. Since you came ALL this way to see little old me, why not tell me what you want."

The beggar scrambled to his feet and turned to the Dark One, licking his chapped lips and remembering his courage, now was his chance.

"I have a child, oh Dark One…" the beggar began to sweat again, pulling at the strings of his battered cloak, he shivered in fear -or cold, Belle could not determine, but the sweat on his brow and the way his hand shook as he pulled and pulled at the warn cloth declared his fear. Belle looked to Rumpelstiltskin, watching the pleasure warm his face. He enjoyed it, this fear – she could feel his power humming about him as if feeding off the beggars fears, powering him.

"She's everything I have…" he had been saying, tears pouring down his face as he was describing the child that had come ill with a disease that had battered his small village to the west of the Dark Castle. He begged the Dark One for his help, for mercy on the innocent child.

"Legend tells of your…your great power. You can stop wars with a wave of the hand, heal the sick without touching 'em." He pathetically lowered his head as he begged for the life of his daughter.

Bell was deeply moved by the man, heartbroken for his pain – but she feared that her master did not share in her empathy. His smile only widened at the man's story, the amber in his eye glinting.

"So, you want me to snap my fingers, make the sickness leave the village."

The beggar said no more, only nodded pathetically, his whole body shaking.

"Well, you have heard correctly. I can indeed heal your child, and the whole village, and I don't even have to leave the warmth of this fire." Rumpelstiltskin gestured to the fire, the blaze roared loudly at the movement, the flames licking upwards toward the ceiling in a flash before returning to their steady glow. Rumpelstiltskin sauntered over to the fire, his hand reaching deep into the coals, while he watched Belle's face paled in horror a gasp escaping from her lips, her hand reaching out to him as if to stop him from burning himself. He smile widely at her and winked as he quickly pulled his hand out, revealing a vial of some form of orange liquid, the vial glowing for a second before returning to a more normal state. With a skip in his step he danced over to the beggar and produced the vial in front of his face.

"A Healing elixir, just for your sweet girl. Only one drop will heal all ales, she will never be sick again. You can even spare some for the whole village." His smile grew wicked as he leaned closer, his nose wrinkling as he spoke, "or you can just keep it for yourself. For a rainy day." He graciously deposited the vial into the man's hand. His face was open in shock as we looked at the liquid inside and then back at the Dark One who was now tapping his long fingers together in front of his face, an impish laugh escaping him.

The man's face melted as he remembered the rest of the tales he had heard of the Dark One.

"What do you want in exchange?" his fear had come back to his face, his hands shaking.

Belle felt useless just standing there. She had not the courage to move, simply watching the events unfold before her, her throat was dry in anticipation. What would he have to give, she knew it had to be something steep as it looked like the man could offer nothing in exchange; he seemed to know this himself though he dared not voice his concerns.

The smile never left Rumpelstiltskin's face as he moved toward the double doors and opened them with a twist of the wrist.

"You came by the castle very easily, beggar. I cannot have people thinking that they can just barge in whenever they want, startling and then taking advantage of the help." He flourished his hand in Belle's direction, as he spun back around, mock horror on his face, his eyes still danced with wicked glee though.

"I would like, your silence, Beggar."

Relief washed over the man's face as he nodded furiously, he could keep a secret, not tell a soul. He knew he could do it.

"Of course, oh Dark One. I promise, my lips are sealed."

Rumpelstiltskin lowered his chin, giving his smile a more menacing appearance; chills ran down Belles spine at the look in his eyes. He was more frightening now than she had yet to witness.

"Yes." Then he gestured with his hand, the beggar suddenly collapsing to the ground, his back facing Belle. She let out a small cry and hurried over to where the man leaning, ready to help him up. When she reached down to help him up she let out a startled gasp, her hands quickly moving away from the man as she stumbled back, almost running into Rumpelstiltskin who had giggled again, clapping his hands. The man's mouth was disappearing, the skin melting as he tried in vain to open and close his mouth, hand frantically pulling at the place where his chapped lips had once been. Now the skin had bubbled over, his mouth was completely gone, all Belle could hear were muffled cries, his eyes wide in horror as he tried desperately to speak, hands feeling where his mouth had been, the vial on the floor in front. She was horrified but couldn't look away; her breathing became rapid as she tried to fathom what she had witnessed in front of her. In a puff of smoke the beggar and the vial were gone; the room was once again empty of the poor man who had stumbled into the castle.

Rumpelstiltskin appeared unmoved by what had occurred before him and simply sauntered over to the tea cup he had abandoned, almost making Belle stumble when he brushed past her. He stared at the spot where the man had been standing, then watched as Rumpelstiltskin as he poured himself another cup of tea from the pot that had remained by the side of the leather chair undisturbed. He took a taste then made a face at Belle, who was still dumbstruck.

"This tea is horrible, next time don't boil the water too hard." And he was back over to his spinning wheel, as if nothing had happened.

Belle recalled the events of that day as she wandered down the third long corridor she had come across in the labyrinth of the castle. The look on the man's face as his mouth melted was burned into Belle's memory.

The Dark One, he had called Rumpelstiltskin. She understood the title now, why her father had shrunk in fear each time he whispered her new masters' name. Never had she witnessed darkness like that – not since Gaston's beastly attack on her and his demise. She closed her eyes as the recalled that night, a night she had tried desperately to push from her memory. She could still feel the cold biting her throat, the grass beneath her and the pain of Gaston's desire as he bruised her bosom with his mouth. Belle took a sharp inhale as the fear overpowered her once more. No, she would not be afraid, that was a different Belle- Belle the fearful little girl, the delicate flower.

Belle grasped at a small side table that sat under a large painting in the hallway she was moving through, trying to steady her breathing and remove the fear of that night away from her memory, erase it. That was not who she was anymore, she whispered to herself, staring at the painting in front of her. It depicted a statuesque woman, blazing red hair flowed around her, and she had on a steely gaze, a whisper on a smile on her face. She looked strong and confident, her head held high and proud. That was who Belle was, that was who she wanted to be. Brave and strong, not afraid ever again. She was not a delicate flower, but a strong and beautiful rose with thorns protecting its stem from any harm. Belle smiled as her fear of almost two years ago vanished and was replaced with new strength. Nodding to the portrait of the lady she turned on her heel and ambled confidently down the hallway, trying each and every door, seeing what was inside. Rumpelstiltskin was indeed the Dark One and a monster she decided as she tried another door that was locked, much to her disappointment. He was not a man, but a wicked monster, she told herself as she found a door that had opened for her. Smiling she entered the room, which was caked in dust. All the furniture was covered with a thin sheet of cloth – as if shielded from the dirt. Belle furrowed her brow, none of the other rooms had their furniture covered, the dust had just settled and ruined them, why was this room different.

Checking behind her to be sure she was alone (which she foolishly remembered, she was) and she moved into the room, her skirts unsettling the dust that had formed on the warm brown rugs adorning the floor. To her left was a dresser, neatly displaying trinkets and toys, methodologically positioned. Lifting the sheet from the largest piece of furniture in the room, she uncovered a bed made for a child. Her eyes widened at this discovery – the bed displayed an elaborate headboard with images of knights battling dragons, and princesses in tall towers leaning out presenting flowers to their beau's. Belle gently touched the paint on the bed and then moved to the armour that stood in the corner. Opening it she revealed a closet full of clothing, the moth balls tickling her nose. The clothing was too small to belong to an adult she concluded, fingering the fine fabric of a small tunic that was carefully hung up, little bits of gold glinted in the seams. Belle traced a hand along the dusty table top, playing with a toy horse that was thick with dust.

This room was lovingly decorated, and carefully preserved. She felt her heart swell as she glanced around the room again, confusion and curiosity mingled together to form a tight knot in her chest as she gently closed the door behind her. Looking to her left she found a set of stairs leading downwards to the lower floor. "That was not there before…" she said to herself as she moved toward the stairs, glancing back at the door of the child's bedroom. Blinking she set back down the stairs in search of a way back to the kitchens so she could boil some tea and wonder at the room she had discovered.

"Rumpelstiltskin, who are you?" she said, trailing a hand along the bannister.