A/N: Wow, you guys have been amazing, THANK YOU! Hopefully you can tell, but I'm trying to parallel the FTL scenes to the Storybrooke ones. That's why the parallel for chapter one was books, and the parallel for this chapter is Belle's dress. :) Anyway, Belle may seem a bit bratty at first in this chapter, but I wanted to create a more realistic approach to her deal with Rumple. I can't realistically see a woman being all cheerful/giggly when losing all she's ever known, so I wanted to give her at least a little bit of rebellion. That, and Belle is a princess. Princesses don't cook and clean, so I'm not really sure why Rumple thought she'd be a good maid. lol I poke fun at that a bit in this, so hopefully you enjoy!

Fan art for this story: http: / / blood-and-lust-87 . deviantart . com /art/OUAT-Mr-Gold-s-New-Bride-297938754 (just take the spaces out - keep in mind that this won't necessarily take place in this story. I just really wanted to draw this since it's inspired by Dark Shadows)

CO-WRITTEN WITH RUMPELGOLD

CH 2: Trapped

Belle gazed around her in dismay. Did Rumpelstiltskin truly expect her to cook and clean? As a woman of privilege, she'd never had to lift a finger to so much as dust.

Long, long ago her mother had taught her simple tasks such as needlepoint and piano playing, but these were talents a princess was expected to know. Would her nimble fingers be of importance to her new master? More than likely not... She hadn't seen a piano during her exploration of the grand hall.

Twisting her lips in displeasure, Belle gave the bloody slab of meat on the kitchen's chopping block an experimental poke, then instantly felt sick to her stomach. Dark, slimy red liquid oozed from the rump roast and stained her finger, her blue eyes widening as she wondered what on earth she was supposed to do with it.

Now glancing toward the wood stove, she gave a bemused grimace and opened the sealed door. Fortunately for her, Rumpelstiltskin had already prepared the fire, so she didn't have to even attempt what she knew would be an inevitable failure.

Still squeamish, Belle uneasily lifted the meat off the counter, then shoved it onto the slab positioned over the roaring flames. "OW!" she exclaimed, immediately sticking her burnt finger in her mouth. How had she not expected that? Flames were supposed to sear flesh...

As she sucked on the pulsating injury, her frustration began to mount. There was no way she could do this... How could Rumpelstiltskin even expect her to? She'd been ripped away from all that she loved and held dear, and now she was supposed to do menial tasks for the rest of her days. She missed her castle, she missed her people, and above all, she missed her father.

"Papa," she whimpered, tears beginning to sting along her lashes. Rumpelstiltskin hadn't even allowed her the courtesy of saying goodbye, so how could she cope? She missed him terribly, and the thought of no longer hearing his voice or feeling his warm, strong arms around her made her stomach clench unpleasantly.

At long last, the tears finally flowed freely, and Belle struck her fist against the chopping block in frustration. She couldn't do this - she wouldn't do this!

Removing her apron far more gruffly than necessary, the princess stormed out of the kitchen in search of her master. She found him rather easily, what with his bizarre habit of constantly spinning at his wheel, and she closed the distance between them with long, even strides.

"Master Rumpelstiltskin?" she beseeched, her tone rather daring for an enslaved girl. When he finally looked up from his spinning, she held out her arms as if showing off her frazzled appearance, the gesture also bringing the various stains on her golden gown to attention. "I'm sorry, but I cannot do this... I have not been bred to cook, and I do not wish to learn how. I have no family to care for, and I no longer have to worry about procuring a suitor, so what is the point of this?"

Blue eyes sharp and confrontational, Belle placed her hands on her hips and accused, "What's worse, you didn't let me give my kingdom a proper goodbye - how can I happily work for you if I didn't have any closure? You are a cruel, cruel man if you refuse me this simple request. Do I not deserve to have one final farewell?"

It was true that Belle had only been with Rumpelstiltskin for a mere twenty-four hours, but she felt that the burnt finger alone gave her probable cause for such behavior. If her master refused her, she'd be forced to behave as unbearably as possible, and that honestly wasn't what she desired. Her mother had brought her up to be charming and polite, and she prided in her ability to always be gracious.

Rumpelstiltskin, however, appeared completely beside himself with glee. "Now, now, dearie, no need to shout! You'll, uh...ruin my concentration." When Belle moved to speak, he gave a gruff, "Ah-ah!" and motioned for her to be quiet.

Irritated and fuming, the princess sulkily closed her mouth and folded her arms. As she did so, her master noticed yet another stain and sighed.

"I suppose you'll be needing far more assistance than I anticipated...very well." Now waving his hand, he easily transformed the ruined gown into a new, crisp blue and white dress far more suited for her tasks.

Eyes wide, Belle glanced down at her new attire and held the skirts out at length. "Oh! Master, it's...it's beautiful!"

Thoroughly pleased with himself, Rumpelstiltskin clapped his hands together together and acknowledged, "Yes, yes, isn't it, though? I'm quite the arr-teest!" Giggling, he waved his hand and urged, "Begone with you, precious, and go back to your chores."

In far higher spirits, Belle spared her beautiful new dress yet another glance, then beamed back at the imp and nodded. "Yes, master, I shall return shortly - I promise I won't be long!" Now gathering her skirts in her hands, she bustled back toward the kitchen to at least attempt to salvage the meat.


With a weary groan, Emma slowly opened her eyes and dizzily tried to take things into focus. Her gaze immediately locked on a spread of blue and white fabric, and the longer she laid in the fetal position, the more she began to realize she was gazing at her own stomach. That, however, wasn't what perplexed her the most. What on earth was she wearing?

Lethargically pulling herself up into a sitting position, Emma brushed her hands down the front of her breasts and realized, to her utter confusion, that she was wearing what appeared to be a medieval dress. As she carefully stroked and prodded at the fabric, a brilliant spill of chestnut suddenly caught her attention. With a gasp, Emma touched the hair on her shoulder - her hair - and realized that her sunshine blonde locks were now dark and rich. She was a brunette!

Bewildered by this transformation, Emma furrowed her brows and cried out when a trapdoor slowly, noisily opened beside her makeshift bed. Immediately moving out of the way, she rolled back further on the bed and blanched when none other than Mr. Gold appeared.

"You!" she exclaimed, eyes wide. "What the hell is going on here? Where am I? And why the fuck am I dressed like it's Halloween?"

He gave her a Cheshire grin, then shut the trapdoor beneath him. "Now, now, my sweet Belle, is that any sort of language for a princess?"

"Belle? Gold, what the actual fu-?"

Immediately silencing Emma with his finger, the pawnbroker smiled before stroking her cheek. "Ah, Belle...pretty, pretty Belle. Do you like the room I've prepared for you? I'll admit it's my attic, but once you prove you can behave, you shall be able to share my room with me."

Tempted to bite Gold's finger, Emma jerked away from him and snapped, "Ok, I don't know what kind of drug you're on right now, but you need to let me go now before I do something we'll both regret." When he merely smiled at her, she rolled to move toward the trapdoor, but yelped when she realized her right ankle was shackled securely to the wall. "Gold...what the hell?"

"I'm sorry, my dear," he earnestly apologized, "but I knew this would be for your own good. You've forgotten me...you've forgotten our love, and I need to help you remember."

"You're fucking psycho!"

Gold's face contorted, and for a moment it looked as if he would strike her since his hand was raised. But instead of the expected slap, he caressed her cheek again and whispered in a kind voice, "Belle, beautiful Belle..."

Emma was now on the verge of killing this man. She would stand up, punch him in the face, kick him in the groin, steal his key to unshackle herself, and then make her way out the trapdoor. But then she realized that if he were smart, he would not have hidden any such key on his person. She tried to slap his hand away, but he caught her wrist and 'tsked' her.

"Gold, let me explain," she started, then took a deep breath. The sad expression he gave her threw her off for a while, for he looked genuinely hurt and she hadn't even start talking yet. "I am not Belle, I am Emma." Her eyes met his. "Emma Swan? The town's sheriff?"

"Yes," Mr. Gold hesitated and tapped a finger pensively to his chin, "yes."

Emma smiled lightly as she thought her words were taking effect. "You were my benefactor, remember that, Gold? You helped me become the town's sheriff. You wanted me here."

"Yes," Mr. Gold said again in confirmation, which made her smile expand even more. "Yes, I did and do."

With a sigh of relief, Emma leaned against the wall of the attic. "Now let me go?" She gestured at her shackle and studied the expression on Mr. Gold's face. First he looked confused, then worried, then compassionate, and at last melancholic. She held her breath and awaited for him to undo her bounds, but his eerie smile had crept back onto his face, and he shook his auburn hair.

"You forget, dearie," His voice had turned to his darker self, to the possessed Rumpelstiltskin who would giggle and strike poses, "that you've been mine long before you were born. Oh, Belle, Belle, how much I've longed for you. And now, here you are..."

Mr. Gold, despite his bad leg and walking cane, managed to sit down on his knees in front of her and gently massage her shackled leg with his hand. It was only now that Emma realized her legs were bare, and, visibly flinching, she recoiled from his touch.

"I am not her!" she cried out desperately, but he returned with an even louder shout: "You are her!"

Emma stared up into his eyes, temporarily at a loss for words. Mr. Gold kept rubbing her leg, almost as if it were his own sore one.

With a deep, yet tremulous breath, the sheriff managed to scoot her leg out from underneath his invasive hand. She knew she needed a new tactic - one that was sure to work - and it was with great effort that she lowered her lashes and affected a look of girlish flirtation. "Of course I remember you," she cooed, inwardly feeling sick at the blatant lie. "You are my one and only love, Gold...I would never, ever abandon you."

Dear God, what a crock full of shit.

Mr. Gold, however, appeared to sense this as well. "You're lying to me," he snarled, and Emma cried out when he grasped her painfully by the wrists. "Belle does not know my mortal name - she would never call me Gold!"

"You're insane!" Emma sobbed, struggling with him as he continued to wrestle with her flailing limbs. Teeth gritted, she garnered enough strength due to her rushing flow of adrenaline, then headbutted him soundly against the forehead. The momentum caused Gold to fall back flat on his rump, his eyes squeezed shut as he grasped at his throbbing forehead.

"You...you bitch," he growled out, his eyes wild as he locked them on her once more. Emma appeared fearful as he unsteadily rose to his feet, for she'd never seen him so enraged. Gold was always smug and composed, so what had she done to change him? Or had this side of him secretly been there all along?

Pointing a shaking finger at her, Gold choked out, "Belle, it pains me to do this to you, but you must be punished... I will not have my servant treat me with disrespect."

"B-but Gold, I-"

"That is not my name, and you know this!" Furiously striking at her cot with his cane, Gold then tried to hit Emma's legs, and she gave a pitiful yelp before jerking back from the motion.

"Stop it...please, stop it!" she begged, a sob catching in her throat. "You're not yourself right now, Gold...you need some serious help!"

"And help you shall get," he returned, almost seeming as though he hadn't heard what she'd said. Now smoothing his hand down the lapels of his shirt, he earnestly sustained, "When you call for me in the evening, I shall not answer your pleas. You will not be fed for a full twenty-four hours, nor will you be allowed to bathe. This can all change, however, if you learn to find the spirit of the girl you once were."

Emma's bottom lip quivered, a lone tear threatening to escape her lashes as she clenched her fists. "Gold," she softly beseeched, "Gold, please listen to me..."

"I can see that you're still being difficult - very well." With a careless shrug of the shoulders, the pawnbroker turned his back on her and began to retreat down the trapdoor.

Desperate, Emma lurched off the bed and screamed after him to wait, but he'd already shut the door behind him and secured it firmly in place. With an agonized cry, the sheriff leapt onto the trapdoor and began to beat against it with her fists, her shouts soon rising shrilly until her voice grew hoarse. Gold would not come for her, and she believed him - he'd made his intentions perfectly clear. She was cold, hungry, and trapped.

She was alone.

A/N: Wow, thank you so much for your amazing response! It really means a whole lot! So that's why, at this time, I'd like to thank our lovely reviewers. :)

UP NEXT: The cause of Belle's death, a new "helping hand" is introduced, and Emma's plight thickens.

Emma Swan: Thank you! Believe me, I'm not a fan of OUAT's Belle either, which is why I'm writing her more like the film version. That's the real Belle in my eyes. And as for your other question, just like I've said in the fic description/my author's note, Belle is actually dead. The "true" events of her death will be revealed in the next chapter.

Fallenhope19: Hopefully this is soon enough for you! :P Thanks so much for reading!

Supernatural-Girl17: Thank you so much, I really appreciate that! And yes, this will be continued. ;) I doubt it'll be a very long story, though.

AL21: Aww, well thank you very much, I'm so glad it was that entertaining to you! I hope this chapter didn't disappoint!

Shizuka no Taisho: Haha, thank you! Hopefully we can write the next chapter just as quickly. :)

LadyKatherine29: Well, thank you! And hentai? LOL That honestly wasn't the intention, but I suppose I can see why you'd think that, what with the drugging and all. Hope this was a bit more concrete for you!

Notsureyet18: Wow, really? Great minds think alike! And thank you, that means so much to me! :)

Lady Elena Bella Petrova: Well, thank you! :) And yes, there will be more!

m: Now that you mention it, yes, you're right: Gold IS less scrupulous than Rumple. Rumple's what I'd call "playful" or immature, while Gold's more cold and calculated. I don't think he's fully evil though, if that makes sense.

RSul24: Well, I don't think they're like duplicate copies of one another (hence the title), but they have very strong resemblances in my mind. The main difference, IMO, is that Belle is too naive to fully grasp some of the things that Emma does. I loved Hitchcock movies growing up, but oddly enough, I can't remember anything about Vertigo...now I'm intrigued to see if there's a similarity. :) Thanks so much for reading!

sailorbebe: Thank you so much! Hopefully you enjoyed the second installment! :)

Detafo: Haha aww, well thank you! And here it is! Not sure if it's late or not, though. xP