"Belle, I gave you that dagger because I trusted you... Because I thought you would never want to control me," he said softly.

Belle glimpsed a hint of anger beneath the shock, but she didn't back down, and his expression shifted to one of horror and fear even as she steeled herself to betray him. "I know. I know, and I'm so, so sorry, Rumple."

He didn't want her to go, nor did Belle want to explain. Of course she knew the Snow Queen was dangerous! That was why she had to save Anna and fix her own mistake before it was too late. Rumplestiltskin thought she was trying to be a hero again. He was the only one who had ever really believed in her that way (You are a hero who helped her people, he had once told her when she had forgotten herself and he was dying) and she couldn't bear to let him down. She had just lied to Anna's sister. New guilt pressed on top of old guilt and if compelling the Dark One was the only way out, what did a little more guilt matter?

"If you won't come with me willingly, what choice do I have?" Belle stared at her husband, pleading for his understanding. What choice did she have, except to take his choice away?

Her fingers tightened around the dagger's hilt. She opened her mouth to speak the command. She met Rumplestiltskin's eyes, trying to tell herself this betrayal was the lesser evil. He would forgive her later. This pain she caused him was...

Nothing that can't be undone. Snow White's words echoed in Belle's memory, and a sudden image of Rumple — resurrected, tormented and mad, filthy and trapped in Zelena's cage — flashed across her mind's eye.

...Undone? Was it as easy as that? Rumple was no longer in the cage, and the wicked witch was dead (Belle tried not to think too hard about how that had happened)... but his son was also dead. And despite his reassuring words to her, Belle knew better than to think her husband suffered no lingering damage.

Especially now, when she held the dagger against his soul. She could see how devastated he was behind the cracks in his facade.

Gods. If she did this, she was no better than Zelena. Worse, because Rumple trusted her. Loved her. Why couldn't she simply talk to him, explain her need? Because it was easier to pick up the dagger and force him to obey? Because she was afraid to look less than heroic in front of her husband, in front of the town? Was it worth stabbing him in the back, as long as she could preserve her own image?

Belle shuddered, feeling sick to her stomach. To think that she had once called him a coward! Her arm trembling, she slowly lowered the blade.

"Belle?" Rumple's soft question was barely more than an agonized whisper.

She couldn't meet his eyes. She forced her fingers to loosen. The dagger clanged on the floor. She muttered, "Sorry. I'm sorry..." and dashed for the door.

"Belle, wait!"

"No, no, I have to do this. If you won't come with me, I'll just go by myself."

"I can't let you endanger yourself like this." Rumple reached out, not quite touching her.

"Are you going to use magic to stop me, then?" Belle paused with one hand on the door, holding her breath as she waited for his answer. He hadn't stopped her from going after Hook. (And look how that turned out, she couldn't help thinking. She could have been killed if Rumple hadn't found her in time.) She risked a glance at him. Would history repeat itself? Surely he wouldn't abandon her!

Rumplestiltskin seemed to wilt. "Why is this so important to you?"

Belle breathed again. Do the brave thing, she told herself. She had been afraid of letting him down, of not being the hero he admired, but... when had it ever been heroic to control one's true love with magic? Coward was what everyone called Rumplestiltskin, but he had always given her a choice. Well. He had shut her in the dungeon, but in the end, he had let her go. "I... I lied to Elsa."

Rumple took her hand hesitantly. "You can tell me."

Belle nodded. The words stuck in her throat, but Rumple's eyes held only patient understanding. Belle was the one who wanted to kick herself. She had always hated it when he hid everything behind his monster's mask. Was it any better to hide behind a pretense of heroism? Haltingly, she explained about her quest to recover her lost memories of her mother's death. How she had traveled to Arendelle and met Princess Anna. How the trolls had given her a magical stone that could restore her memories. How they had crossed paths with the Snow Queen, and how Belle had selfishly chosen to save her memory rock rather than her new friend. She choked back a sob as she remembered her betrayal. She had let Anna fall off a cliff.

"Oh, sweetheart, of course I understand the guilt of making the wrong choice in the heat of the moment, who better?" Rumple wrapped his arms around her, letting her sink into his embrace. "One moment of indecision hardly makes you a monster. I'm the monster here. I—"

"You're not. Don't say that! I know how hard you've been trying." Belle smiled up at him through a sheen of tears. "I'm so sorry I almost used the dagger on you, just to cover up my own misdeeds. But I can't forgive myself until I find Anna and make sure she's all right."

"And so you think the Snow Queen's lair is the place to look?"

There was something in his voice, but Belle didn't have time now to pursue it. She shook her head. "It's a start. The last time I saw Anna, Ingrid was standing over her unconscious body."

"But what makes you think she still has her?" His brows furrowed quizzically.

"I think we can make her tell us what happened." Belle bit her lip. "Ingrid is their aunt. I don't... I don't think she'd really hurt her own family, even if she is a villain?" At Rumple's wry smile, Belle hurried on, "There was a magical hat that Anna had. I'm sure the Snow Queen would have kept that. If we can take it, then we can hold it in trade for some answers."

"A hat..." Rumple's smile faded. "I see."

"Good!" Belle disentangled herself from him. She stooped down to pick up the dagger. She started to replace it in her bag, then changed her mind and pushed it against her husband's chest, then let go. "Here, I can't keep this. It was wrong of me to accept it in the first place."

He gaped at her, hastily reaching up to catch the dagger before it fell. "But..."

Belle opened the door and stepped outside. "Let's go."

"Belle!" Rumple hurried after her. "There's no stopping you, I see. But let me save you a long walk..." He lifted a hand and summoned his magic.


The trees rose all around them. Rumple gestured ahead of them, where the ground sloped up into a rocky hillside. A white-rimmed arch hung with icicles marked the entrance of a cave.

"That's where she's hiding?"

Rumple nodded. "Indeed." His eyes swept their surroundings, his focus going distant for an instant. "But she's not at home. I don't sense her magic."

"Good. Ok. You stay here as lookout," Belle decided. "I'm going in. I'll be quick, I promise."

He looked conflicted, but someone had to keep watch, and they both knew he was better able to defend himself if the Snow Queen suddenly appeared. Then the dagger was in his hand again and he tucked it into her coat (some wisp of magic holding it in place) before she could protest. "Please, Belle. There's a protection spell on it. I need you to be safe."

Belle sighed, swayed by his worried eyes. "I'll give it back as soon as we're done here."

His face eased. "Call if you need me."

"I will." Belle offered him a small smile. She took a deep breath, then forged ahead to the Snow Queen's cave.

The temperature was colder than a natural cave. Ice, white and smooth and gleaming, formed the walls, floor, and ceiling. Light shone from within the ice, casting an eerie shadowless illumination over sparse ice-sculpted furnishings.

A woman's voice seemed to call to her. "Belle. Belle. Belle..."

The hat. Belle tried to keep focused on the object of her mission, but the voice continued beckoning.

"Belle. Over here, Belle. Over here..."

She stepped deeper into the cave, turning to look for the speaker. A large, covered mirror on a stand loomed over her. It glowed beneath the white cloth. Drawn closer, entranced and disoriented by the mysterious voice, she reached up and yanked off the cover. The woman in the mirror initially had her back to her, but turned swiftly and smiled at Belle.

It was her. It wasn't her. Belle gasped and stumbled backwards, but couldn't take her eyes off the mirror. The image inside the circle of glass spoke to her in her own voice. Belle felt unreal, as if she was the illusion and the image in the mirror was her true self.

"I was hoping you'd find me." Then the voice turned darker, distorted. "I'm surprised you were brave enough to come in here..."

Belle stared into eyes that found her lacking. She tried to argue for herself, but her own words sounded increasingly feeble against the pitiless truths spoken by her mirror image. She doubted. She doubted herself, she doubted her husband, she doubted everything she believed (wished was true) about her life.

"Not that you've ever really been hero material."

She fumbled inside her coat to draw out the dagger, holding it between herself and the mirror to ward off that mocking gaze. For a moment she felt that she could breathe again. Then the voice taunted her again.

"You truly believe that's real?"

As she wavered, her hand shaking, she heard another voice calling her name. The mirror went silent.

"The Snow Queen's approaching the cave..." Rumple's voice. Then the sound of footsteps.

Belle heard and didn't hear. She was still caught, unable to look away from herself.

Then his face came between them. Not a reflection, but the reality. A reality she suddenly doubted.

A beast... all lies and manipulation. He doesn't love you, Belle. How could he? Someone as weak and gullible as you! Her own thoughts betrayed her, no longer needing the mirror to spell it out for her.

"Don't look in the mirror. Look at me. We have to leave."

She couldn't bear to listen to his lies a second longer. Overcome by a wave of distrust and anger, she slashed at the monster behind the human mask. At his touch on her arm, she screamed, "Let me go!"

She seemed to struggle for an eternity. Then she was stumbling free. They were inside the pawn shop again.

Rumple's worried face came into focus. "It's ok, it's ok. We're at the shop."

Gasping, half-hysterical, Belle fought for clarity, still consumed by the sense of wrongness that had overtaken her. Then she saw the blood on his neck. She had done that. Horrified, she dropped the dagger. "I... I hurt you. I'm so sorry, Rumple."

"It's ok." He reached for her again and she hugged him tightly. "It was a spell. A powerful one. I'm sorry. I should never have let you walk in there—"

"It's not your fault. I can feel it wearing off already." Belle reached down to pick up the dagger. "Is that thanks to your protection spell?" Before he could answer, she pressed the hilt into Rumple's hands. "I told you, I can't keep this. The temptation, it's too much. I'm no hero." She didn't want to believe the mirror, but the truth was the truth — she just hadn't wanted to face up to it.

Rumple's hands wrapped around hers. "Belle, no, forget what the mirror said. It was lying..."

Belle shook her head, tears in her eyes. "I don't want power over you, not like that. I'm only human. I can be corrupted. What if I did wield the dagger? How could you ever forgive me?"

"Sweetheart, I will always forgive you." This time he let her curl his fingers around the dagger. He looked at it for a long moment, then sighed and set it down on the counter behind him. Still half-turned away from her, he murmured, "After all, I did, the first time..."

"What?" Belle wasn't sure if she had heard him right. Then she remembered: in front of the others, when they had asked him about Elsa. "But you told me to do it. That's different."

"Ah." He still didn't meet her eyes. "Before that." Then, before she could ask him what he meant, he shifted the topic. "Belle, what did the mirror say to you?"

Belle shuddered. "Horrible things. That I was weak, that you were lying to me, that you don't love me, that you only wanted to use me..." Seeing him tense, she reached out to grip his shoulder. "Rumple..."

"It's called the Spell of Shattered Sight. The darkest of magic, that makes you see the worst in everyone."

"...you looked into the mirror, too, didn't you," she concluded in a whisper. "What... what did it say to you?"

A swift shake of his head. "The Dark One is immune." A ghost of a chuckle. "Well, not so much immune as already cursed. What's one more voice telling us to see the worst in everyone? You... you've seen it yourself, how quick we are to turn on the ones we love."

Belle remembered how their first kiss had driven him into a rage and how coldly he had cast her out afterwards. And what about his first wife, Milah? He had killed her. Belle thought about the voice of the mirror twisting her thoughts until she saw her husband as a beast. She had cut him with the dagger. If she had stayed longer, listened longer, would she have driven the blade through his heart? "It's like that for you all the time?"

He shrugged, risking a brief guilt-stricken glance at her. "I'm used to it."

"No one should have to endure that!" Belle took a calming breath. "I wish you had explained about it before." Back in the Dark Castle, she had been so confused. So hurt that he could think that her love was a lie.

"It's better when you're here," he said quietly, sounding shamed by the admission. "That's why..."

"Why...?" She caught his gaze at last. He stared back at her as if it hurt.

"I wanted you to be happy," he murmured. "You deserve happiness. I wanted to be the man in your wedding vows. I wanted to be better. To be strong. But..."

"You are!" She tried to quell the lingering doubts instilled by the mirror.

"The monster isn't gone. But I needed you too much. After, after everything..." He stopped, closing his eyes. "I couldn't bear to lose you. You were the only light left to me. It's unfair to you, I know. I owe you too much already, and this, it can only bring you misery. I'm sorry. I was weak and selfish."

Belle's heart broke for him. "Rumple. Look at me. I love you. That's why I married you. I need you, too."

He blinked at her, his features sagging into resignation. "I didn't want to be a burden to you. Weak, clinging like any desperate soul."

"Rumple, no." Looking at her, did he see the wife who had left him because he didn't live up to her standards? The father who had discarded him because he was in the way? Belle mentally cursed the ones who should have loved him, but had abandoned him and instilled this deep fear in his heart. "I meant what I said. It may not be easy, but I'm not letting go."

"You will. It's only a matter of time before you see the truth. I thought I could delay it, but you deserve better than a coward for a husband. So..." He lifted his arm and snapped his fingers. A cylindrical object appeared in a puff of smoke. He set it down on the counter next to the dagger and stared down at it.

It took Belle a moment to recognize the star-studded box that had tumbled out of Anna's cloak all those years ago. A hat box, according to Anna. The hat! "I... I don't understand. Where did you... was it in Ingrid's cave?"

"No. It was in the mansion."

The mansion where they had spent their honeymoon. She still didn't understand. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I need it, Belle." He was pleading for her understanding — or for her forgiveness. For something she didn't dare look at straight on, for things neither of them had wanted to admit.

"But why?"

He paused before answering, "Words are slippery creatures, aren't they? Perhaps it's better to try to show you." He flicked his wrist again, this time summoning a dream catcher. He swept it over his head and concentrated. An image began forming on the web inside the circular frame. "Watch."

She was confused to see his face appear. If this was his memory... Then she realized it was a reflection, recognizing the mirror in his shop. She watched him examine himself. His eyes were shadowed, but he seemed unhurt. The image pulled back to reveal him clad as immaculately as ever, black on black in an expensive suit. (But pain bled through the frame of the dream catcher, his heart revealed in the memory. He was shattered inside. Drowning in grief and loss. Burning with hate and anger.)

Then the bell tinkled over the door, and she saw herself in the reflection.

In the memory, Rumple turned quickly to meet her, arms outstretched for a hug. (A flash of incredulous joy on seeing her.)

Oh. Belle's heart clenched, remembering that reunion. She had practically run straight to the pawn shop from the hospital after Regina had brought her the news (and the dagger). She had been so happy then, so relieved that her true love was alive and free. Watching herself now, she winced. The exuberant smile she aimed at Rumple suddenly felt obscene.

(His son was dead.)

I knew you'd be back. All her focus was on the possibility for a happy ending that they had miraculously won back. The first time he had thought his son dead, she had wept with him. He had thought he deserved death, and awaited the end of the world with fatalistic resignation. Apocalypse averted, he had then run away to Neverland on a suicide mission. Then he had died in front of her. This time, she had wanted to give him hope.

In the memory, Rumple was stunned, disbelieving. Astonished at her faith in him. After everything I did. And though she assured him she didn't blame him for Zelena's evil, he demurred, in a memory oozing with self-loathing. It wasn't always Zelena.

Belle watched herself take the dagger out of the bag. Perhaps Regina had expected her to keep it, but she didn't want to control Rumple magically any more than he wanted to do it to her...

You're a free man.

...or did she? In the next breath, before handing over the dagger—

Just promise me one thing.

(Why did she hesitate? Why did she make her demand before restoring his freedom? As if holding it over his head...) Numbly, she watched as Rumple gave the dagger back to her, pledged himself to her, and asked her to marry her. At the time, she had been too overwhelmed by excitement at the proposal to think about anything else. Now, through the dream catcher, she felt the way he flinched at her hesitation. The pang of betrayal beneath the love.

The image stilled.

"Did you see?" Rumple's soft question broke into her thoughts.

She blinked. "I... I'm not sure." What had he wanted her to see? What was he trying to tell her?

He waved his free hand over the dream catcher and the image rewound itself. "Again, then. Listen. Watch."

Again, the Belle in the image held the dagger in her hands. Then demanded, Promise me... More than a demand. A command.

She gasped at the realization. She had been holding the dagger. She had ordered him to promise her. An order he was magically compelled to obey. And yet...

He didn't promise. An ambiguous duck of his head, perhaps a nod. But not a promise.

Oh Belle. A sad exhalation before he took the dagger from her.

The image vanished.

"You didn't promise. That means the dagger was fake all along." At Rumple's silence, Belle continued slowly, "So... you did kill Zelena." She felt a twinge of disappointment, but no surprise. She thought blankly that she had suspected it all along.

"I had already made a promise to my son," Rumple said in a whisper. He looked away under the guise of setting the dream catcher down on the counter.

"Revenge..." She could still taste that bitter hatred in the back of her throat.

"When he was gone, revenge was the only thing that kept me alive."

"What about love?" she couldn't help but ask. Love had sustained her: first in Regina's dungeon, then when she thought he was dead, and this past year when he was Zelena's prisoner. Through everything, she had clung to her hope of their reunion.

He shook his head. "I couldn't..."

Love had failed him, she thought unhappily. She had. Belle remembered the day she had found him in Zelena's cellar. She had fled the witch's mocking laughter and abandoned Rumple to his cage. "I'm sorry. I just left you to her, twice over."

"No, no. She would have killed you." His eyes downcast, his face tightened in shame and guilt. He hadn't meant her at all. "It was me, I betrayed our love." He swallowed. "With... her."

It took her a moment to understand. Her. Zelena. "It's not your fault. She had the dagger."

"It wasn't always the dagger," he said in a whisper, just as he had once said It wasn't always Zelena and after all the things I did.

Only now did she hear the meaning under the words that she had taken so innocently before. It was a sickening realization. Rape, he meant. "Are you saying...?"

"Zelena was consumed by envy. No one was allowed to be chosen before her. You know about her feud with Regina. Well. It wasn't only her mother's love that Zelena desired." He swallowed, his eyes pained. "She also wanted... mine."

"It's not your fault," Belle said quickly. She reached out to cup his cheek. "I love you."

"The first command she gave me was to kill you. Do you remember?"

Belle nodded. "But you didn't. You fought her."

"Because Bae was in my head. He stopped me. And after he was gone..." Rumple looked at her with terror in his eyes. "The dagger wasn't enough for her, you know. She wanted it to be real. If she ever thought of you as a rival..."

"It's all right. It doesn't matter. She doesn't matter, now." Belle pulled him into a hug, desperately willing him to believe her. She hated that she was glad that Zelena was dead. Murder was wrong, but she couldn't blame Rumple for what he had done, any more than she could blame him for killing Peter Pan.

"I said anything. Did anything." His voice was soft next to her ear. She felt him shudder under her touch. "As long as I could distract the witch, that was a little longer you would be safe."

She remembered his face in the mirror, breaking the Snow Queen's spell. Look at me. Don't look at the mirror. Imagined him standing between herself and Zelena. Don't look at Belle... "I'm so sorry. I didn't know... I never realized..."

"What's done is done. What's the use of knowing something that can only hurt you?"

"She may be dead, but you're still in pain! Please, let me help you." Belle knew he hated to show any weakness, but how could he heal if he refused to admit to the damage?

"It's not that bad," he insisted, as he had after he was first free from Zelena. "I'm fine."

And between his acting skills and her inexperience, she had believed him. But now she knew better. "It was bad enough that you wished you were dead. How much worse is that for an immortal, who can't even die?"

Rumple scoffed with bitter humor. "Zelena had the dagger. It would have been easy enough to provoke her into using it."

Easy enough, compared to manipulating Regina to murder a father she loved for a curse that the Dark One couldn't (wouldn't) cast himself. No wonder her mirror self had claimed Belle as another of his dupes. But to use that skill to engineer his own death... how much pain must he have been in? She could hardly imagine it, even now, and the Belle in the dream catcher had been oblivious. "Zelena as the Dark One... that would have been a nightmare."

"Better her than the Dark One with no one else at home. At least I would be free, and no longer a danger to you."

"And the rest of Storybrooke?"

"With me gone, Zelena would have no reason to care about you. And the heroes would win in the end, as they always do. Ingrid might even have shown her hand, if only to protect Emma."

Belle wasn't as confident. Rumple had been trying his best not to harm anyone even while being controlled by Zelena. As the Dark One, Zelena wouldn't have been so constrained and who knew how much power she could have drawn on? She admitted, "Storybrooke is safer without her."

Rumple gaped at her. "Then why did you tell me not to go after her, when you knew how dangerous she was?"

"I didn't want you to darken yourself any further." He had once told her that she made him want to go back to the best version of himself. She had taken that to heart, a comforting thought when in her more insecure moments she wondered what he (powerful, legendary) saw in her (ordinary, unmagical) — the counterpoint to the doubts voiced by Ingrid's mirror.

"Belle..." His breath came out in a despairing sigh. "I'm afraid it's far too late for that."


Author's notes: Time to hate on season 4. Cos I really hated s4. And to this day so much of it makes no sense to me (beyond the obvious character assassination). The mansion, the hat, the Apprentice selling Emma to Ingrid, the whole return of Zelena plot, the Author, and probably other things I've erased from my memory. So years late to the game, here I am attacking canon with AUs, random crossovers, and OOC levels of honesty.

Some dialogue taken from canon. I do not own OUAT, yadda yadda yadda. Taking liberties with the timeline and order of events.

Fake dagger: I am going with the fan theory that it was a fake that Regina picked up and later gave to Belle.