Chapter Text
Belle gently laid Rumplestiltskin’s body on the soft earth, her hands trembling as she adjusted his head to rest peacefully. “Don’t worry, Rumple,” she whispered through a sob. “I’ll make sure to clean you up. You always loved to keep up appearances.” Her voice cracked with grief, but there was a fragile smile behind the pain.
She leaned over him, her tears falling freely now, warm and steady. They landed on his cheeks, mixing with the dried blood. With no water nearby, she used what she had—her own salty tears—and her sleeves, trying as best she could to wipe the blood from his face. “There you are,” she murmured. “That’s better…” Her hands lingered, brushing hair from his forehead, as if he might stir and open his eyes at any moment. “My…handsome Rumple” she spoke softly before she kissed him gently on the lips.
She lay beside him and rested her head on his chest—right over where his heart was.
"I hated myself for still loving you. I let my pride get in the way of our reunion and now…it’s too late. I love you with my heart and soul. If we meet in another lifetime, I hope we can truly be together. I am yours…forever.”
The words cracked as they left her lips, breaking into another sob. She clutched at his shirt, as if she could hold the pieces of him just a little longer. Her body shook as fresh tears pooled beneath her cheek, right over his heart. Each drop shimmered faintly in the moonlight, a testament of their love, she was the light while he was the darkness. But love, true love, does not vanish. Not even in death.
A faint golden glow appeared underneath Rumplestiltskin. Although Belle could not see it, she could feel the steady hum of energy pulsing from the ground. Just then, a single golden thread, thin as a hair, stretched up from the earth where he lay and touched the center of his chest where her tears had pooled. Above her the echos of ancient voices spoke to her
“True loves tears can resurrect the one you love but are you willing to pay for this magic? When he wakes up he will have no memory of who you are, everything you shared will be gone.”
Belle squeezed his cold hand and brought it to her lips. The thought of living without him was beyond devastating. They would never get to walk hand in hand, never feel the warm embrace of the other, never share a passionate kiss, never grow old together. Tears streamed down her face as she caressed his face and leaned over to cup his face,
“Why must our love endure so much hardship? I will miss you more than you will ever know. You must live so that you can reunite with your son.”
She sat up and shouted into the void
“What sort of magic demands that love be torn apart! What purpose does true love serve if only it is to be ripped to shreds? As children we are taught to trust fate and destiny to guide us on our path. Why bring two souls together only to tear them apart.” She sobbed.
“Love is not without pain nor sacrifice. It is your choice and yours alone to sacrifice. The power of your love can bring him back but there is always a price to pay when magic is involved.” Spoke the voice softly.
”I will pay your price.” She whispered as she cradled his face with her hand.
A golden thread appeared from the ground and wrapped itself across Rumplestiltskin’s chest, followed by another and another. Soon, his body was covered in golden thread that hummed with energy.
Belle’s eyes stung from brightness that emanating from his body. Next, she blinked her eyes and the darkness she had grown accustomed to suddenly began to take the form of blurry shapes of various colors. She kept blinking and the shapes grew into focus. She could see! Before her lay Rumplestiltskin, tiny golden threads of light covered his body. Seconds later, the thread disappeared and his chest began to rise with each breath, his fingers twitched.
“Rumple! You’re alive!” She smiled, the corner of her eyes crinkling as she held his hand.
He opened his eyes and stared at her as she took his hand.
As he sat upright, his eyes were wide and his brows furrowed. “Where…where am I?” He asked hoarsely.
“You are in Sherwood Forest, you were injured.” She said softly.
He withdrew his hand from her grasp, “Do I know you?”
Belle dug her fingernails into her palm to ground herself as she could feel tears welling up behind her eyes.
“No. I was walking by and saw you…collapsed.”
The light of the new day lit the sky with the sun peaking on the horizon. Rumplestitlskin glanced at Belle with hesitancy. The warmth of his eyes was now gone.
“You’re covered in blood, let me fix that for you.” His fingers curled, and in a slow, instinctive gesture, he twisted his wrist. A puff of crimson smoke burst softly from his hand, rippling through the air as it wrapped around Belle in a gentle swirl. The blood and dirt faded but her grief remained.
“Thank you” She bowed her head and turned so he would not see her wipe her tears.
“Thank you…for your help, Miss.” He nodded.
"You’re welcome, Rumplestiltskin.” She whispered.
”You know my name?” He raised his brow and glared at her.
"Yes, you're the Dark One. I’ve read about you.” She could barely speak the last few words before she broke down.
He wrinkled his nose at her.
“Since you came to my aid, I can offer my assistance, dearie.” He asked in his sing-song trill as he bobbed his head.
A lump rose in her throat, he had called her dearie. She promised him forever but he had no knowledge of their deal. The pain of him not knowing who she was, of their love, proved to as painful as his death.
“That won’t be necessary.” She whispered as she began to walk away, each step she took felt like a dagger to her heart.
Something bright on the ground caught his eye. He stared down to see a white handkerchief with embroidered pink sakuras.
“You dropped this.” He waved the white handkerchief in her direction.
She wiped her face before she turned back “You were holding it when I found you.”
She lied. She hoped maybe it would one day stir a memory of her. He watched her from a distance then looked at the handkerchief. He stared at the pink flowers that were stitched with precision. He felt a pull of energy he couldn’t identify. A plume of crimson smoke appeared and Rumplestiltskin disappeared.
When Belle returned to the cottage she was surprised to see Alan and Ellen fraught with worry. When Ellen realized Belle’s vision returned, she clapped a hand to her mouth excitedly, “how?” When Belle shuffled her feet, Ellen placed a gentle hand on her arm.
Belle smiled faintly, “I regained my sight but it was at the cost of something else.”
She sighed ruefully. She wasn’t ready to tell them. Belle thanked them for everything they had done for her but she could not impose on their hospitality any further. She couldn’t stay in Sherwood any longer because of the memories; the place where he died, the place where he lived again, the place where he looked at her with eyes that didn’t know her.
Belle stood at the edge of the woods, her satchel slung over one shoulder, her fingers brushing the fabric as if for reassurance. Behind her, the soft sounds of morning in Sherwood carried on — birds, distant voices, the rustle of wind through the trees. None of it felt like home anymore. Truth be told, the only place that was truly home was with Rumplestiltskin but that was another lifetime ago. She looked back towards the creek, in the distance she was at Rumplestiltskin’s grave, and unknowingly, to his resurrection. She should be happy he lived. In fact, she was happy that he lived. He would find happiness one day when he was reunited with his son. Perhaps one day he would love someone else. She began to cry at the very thought of him lovingly embracing another woman.
She wandered the land in solitude, pouring her thoughts into a notebook that she took everywhere she went. As time went on, bitterness consumed her. She remembered her father and Gaston arguing when Rumplestiltskin named her as his price. At the time she proudly stated Nobody chooses my fate but me.
“That was a sack of horse dung” she bitterly thought to herself. Belle kept a notebook and a quill with her wherever she went. In the past, she always had a book in hand—to escape the perils of this world and journey to far-off lands. Now, she carried a notebook to jot down her thoughts as she navigated life in solitude. Within those pages, she poured her darkest thoughts—fragments of fear, ramblings of the heart, and reflections too scattered to speak aloud.
People were led under false pretense they had the freedom to choose their paths, make their own choices. That was a lie since a person’s trajectory was predetermined by fate and destiny. She cursed fate and loathed destiny. True love was supposed to be fated.
What was the point of having a true love, Belle thought bitterly, if that was what had to be sacrificed? Ellen and Alan had endured hardship but they were able to be together, happily ever after. Robin Hood and Marion had many obstacles to overcome before they were together but at least they were together. Had Belle done something for the fates to lead her down a path of tragedy and despair? Had she not endured enough?
The countless tales she read that told of a heart’s truth rewriting fate, sacrifices were rewarded not punished. Rubbish, she thought to herself. None of those stories told what came after. None of them forewarned the cost of saving the one you loved … was to lose them completely in every sense of the word. To lose them in mind, body and soul. She had tried to be a good person and it had only lead to heartache and sorrow. The pain of losing Rumplestiltskin and everything they shared was a burden she couldn’t carry on her own, try as she might. She thought she could be strong, that she could endure the pain. But the fact of the matter was, she was tired of being strong, exhausted from bravery.
Belle walked the path of righteousness her whole life, where did it get her? Her faith and hopes were concepts that no longer held meaning. She could feel her mind descend into madness. Rather than fear chaos, she embraced it, the notion of goodness vs darkness were fallacies. Being a good person, doing good onto others did not mean ones life was good. Nottingham was a scourge on humanity yet he terrorized countless people during his reign of terror before he met his demise. She never truly had the opportunity to love and be loved by Rumplestiltskin before it was all taken away.
They called true love sacred, a divine fate written in the stars. In reality, it was the cruelest kind of love—because of the sacrifice it required. Perhaps that was why true love was hard to come by. Belle clenched her jaw and screamed with everything she had. She could feel herself slipping into madness—and instead of fearing it, she welcomed it. In moments like this, her words turned to chaos—scrawled curses hurled at fate, destiny, and the cruel illusion of true love.