EPISODE 12 | "SKIN DEEP"
War Room. MAURICE, GASTON, and BELLE are given a report from a soldier
Sir, there's news from the battlefield. Avonlea has fallen.
Belle turns to Gaston in shock.
Oh, my Gods.
If only he had come.
Well, he didn't, did he?
Belle stays quiet, distressed. Nervous. Indecisive. Maurice walks through the hall
Ogres are not men.
Gaston approaches Maurice
We have to do something. We have to stop them.
Belle moves toward her father, resolute, and kneels in front of him, clutching his hand in hers.
They are unstoppable.
He could be on his way right now, Papa.
Her eyes go wide in reassurance. She squeezes his hand.
It's too late, my girl. It's just too late.
Belle stares at her father in desperation. There's a pounding on the door. Everyone stares and starts toward it.
It's him! It has to be him!
She ushers her father to his feet and pulls him along to the door.
How could he get past the walls?
He gestures to the door.
TWO GUARDS unbar the door. Gaston pulls his sword as they open the doors to reveal - no one. They look on, confused (Belle, leaning over, eyebrows furrowed).
Well, that was a bit of a letdown!
They turn. RUMPLESTILTSKIN sits upon the throne, giggling. They watch him. Gaston steps forward, blade drawn.
You sent me a message. Something about, um, "Help! Help! We're dying! Can you save us?"
Belle ain't got time for this shit. Her eyes glance warily from her father to Rumplestiltskin, like, "Did he really fuckin' just - ?" Rumplestiltskin rises.
Now the answer is… (slapping Gaston's sword away) Yes. I can.
Belle continues to watch him, wary, as he circles the table and the group.
Yes, I can protect your little town… for a price.
We sent you a promise of gold.
Ah, no, you see, um, I, uh, make gold? What I want is something a bit more special.
Belle's eyes are narrowed, frowning, head tilted upward as she regards him.
My price… is her.
He points to Belle, who shows no trace of fear on her face, only a sharpness in her expression. Gaston's the one with some ridiculous consternation. He holds her back with one arm. Wow. Very dread. Much dark one.
Belle continues to watch him. Her eyes follow him as she makes her own assessment.
The young lady is engaged to me.
I wasn't asking if she was engaged! I'm not looking for love! I'm looking for a caretaker for my rather large estate.
Belle looks up, mouth parting to speak on her own behalf, head moving upright.
It's her, or no deal.
Get out. Leave!
Rumplestiltskin's expression turns calculating. Gaston shoves Belle to the side, behind him. She strains to peer out over his arm, watching him as he goes.
As you wish.
Rumplestiltskin turns. Belle pushes her way out from behind Gaston, hands lingering on his arm even through the unimpressed look she gives. She moves to Rumplestiltskin, despite the shock of the others.
I will go with you.
She looks at him with steely seriousness. Everyone else is like, "GURL."
I forbid it!
Belle turns, shakes her head, looking pointedly at both her father and fiancé.
No one decides my fate but me. I shall go.
It's forever, dearie.
She gives him a measured, questioning glance, head lowered, eyes narrowed.
My family, my friends - they will all live?
You have my word.
She raises her head, stares him over, and after a moment's deliberation, she closes her eyes and says genuinely (gravely), nodding:
Then you have mine. I will go. With you. Forever.
He giggles like an idiot.
Belle does not acknowledge him, staring severely at Rumplestiltskin for a long moment before she turns.
Belle, you cannot do this. Belle, please. You can't go with this - beast.
She moves toward her father and extends an arm to comfort him, anxiously frowning, herself.
Rumplestiltskin, meanwhile, feigns offense.
Father. (Turning, eyes imploring) Gaston. It's been decided.
She's stern. Resolute. Rumplestiltskin moves behind her. For a long moment, she does not look at him.
You know, she's right. The deal is struck. Oh! Congratulations on your little war!
He giggles, guides her out. She follows, straight-backed.
Belle and Rumplestiltskin move through the DARK CASTLE. Belle glances around, taking in all the sights at once. She hurries to keep at his heels.
Uh - where - where are you taking me?
There's no nervousness, and she still peers at literally everything as though she's never going to see it again even though she's living there. Girl please.
Let's call it… your room.
A flicker of mild interest (a blink, eyes widen). They make their way to - the dungeon. Oops. Rumplestiltskin opens the door. Belle steps off of the stairs and gasps when she sees what awaits her, standing still. She turns to Rumplestiltskin in annoyance, or anger.
Well, it sounds a lot nicer than "dungeon."
She shakes her head, makes to protest or fight him off, but he shoves her in, giggling.
He shuts the door, locks it, and cackles. What a dick.
She don't take that shit.
Hey! You can't just leave me in here! And -
She knocks. Politely. Wow.
Dark Castle. Winter. Belle enters the hall with a tray.
You will serve me my meals, and you will clean the Dark Castle.
She sets the tray down.
I - I understand.
You will dust my collection and launder my clothing.
She nods, glancing up and acknowledging him attentively as she pours tea.
She continues to nod. She's listening.
You will fetch me fresh straw when I'm spinning at the wheel.
More nodding. More glancing. More regarding. She gives one decisive nod and a nervous breath of a laugh.
Oh! And you will skin the children I hunt for their pelts.
Belle gasps, going completely limp. She drops the teacup (and, naturally, the tea she's just made).
That one was a quip. Not serious.
She stares at him in utter horror, jaw slack, shoulders tense, but she manages a laugh after a moment, though her expression is warning, and less than impressed. She stammers, gestures unsure and flustered, and forced a smile.
Her smile fades as she carefully dips down to pick up the teacup. She frowns. staring at it.
Oh. My. I'm so sorry, but, ah - it's - it's chipped.
Her hands shake slightly as she holds it up, and she hesitates before looking at him, almost cautiously. She turns her attention back to the cup and her head tilts.
You - you can hardly see it.
She smiles hesitantly, but it's overshadowed by her worry. Rumple stares at her in return like "you're a hot mess."
Oh, it's just a cup.
Belle smiles a tiny smile, hesitates before standing up fully, does a thankful, awkward triple-take at him, and carefully sets the cup back down.
Belle (with a wardrobe change) is on a ladder, fiddling with the Dark Castle's curtains. Nearby, Rumplestiltskin spins straw. She looks over at him, and after a false start:
Why do you spin so much?
Rumplestiltskin looks up, hesitates, looks toward her, back to the wheel.
Sorry, it's just… (blinking, tightening her stance on the ladder) you've spun straw into more gold than you could ever spend.
I like to watch the wheel. Helps me forget.
She shakes her head, brows together.
He looks up, considers.
I guess it worked.
He giggles, turns toward her like HEY BE IMPRESSED.
Her eyes widen in surprise and she laughs at a really dumb joke, shaking her head and looking away from him. She goes back to her work, and he regards her, finally standing.
What are you doing?
She tugs on the curtains, one foot off the ladder to reach.
Opening these. It's almost spring, we should let some light in.
She keeps pulling, yanking and huffing in frustration. She sways on the latter, and turns to him in search of an explanation.
What did you do? Nail them down?
Belle laughs something short, but no, fuck that. She keeps tugging, and with one final pull, she goes toppling off of the ladder as the curtain comes free, straight into Rumplestiltskin's arms. She gasps and peers at him with a bit of trepidation that fades into warmth.
He, on the other hand, tries way too hard not to look at her.
Both of them let the silence continue a little too long.
Um. Thank you?
She stares at him, almost hopeful and expecting, and a little curious. He just kind of - puts her down. She stumbles backward to gain her footing.
He holds up his hands like, "nah, girl," and she reaches out for - him? For nothing? She settles for dusting her skirt off.
It's no matter.
He walks away. She turns, gestures to the drapes.
I'll - uh - put the curtains back up.
She smiles sheepishly, flushed, and looks at the pile of fabric before looking back to him. He hesitates.
Uh… There's no need. I'll get used to it.
She holds her hands clasped in front of her, and turns her head to peer at him, impressed.
He has no idea what the fuck has just happened.
She opens her mouth, closes it, deciding against whatever was going to be said with a tiny smile.
Rumplestiltskin is a grown-ass man and pours tea for himself. In the chipped cup. He stares out the window as Belle sidles up to him, looking at him searchingly.
She follows him around the table, ducks her head, expression going into a small smile before she hops up on the table, sitting there, still looking at him. She looks away, suddenly, then back. Another false start at speaking. She tilts her head upward, then to the side, eyes narrowing. And then, all at once:
Why did you want me here?
She keeps her gaze trained on him, chin up, almost daring.
The place was filthy.
She cocks her head, eyes betraying amusement. She smirks, then cocks an eyebrow.
I think you were lonely.
She looks away, at the floor, as she straightens, then turns her attention back to him.
Any man would be lonely.
Rumplestiltskin shuffles his feet, starts to turn away.
I'm not a man.
Again, Belle tilts her head as he sits down next to her, keeping her hands in her lap. She sways from side to side, eyes averting, and she shrugs.
So, I've had a couple of months to look around, you know. (Looking upward) And - uh - upstairs (looking back down toward him, eyebrows together in light consternation), there's, uh, clothing. Small. As if for a - a child?
She shakes her head lightly, staring at him for an answer.
Was it yours, or… or was there a son?
Nothing but earnestness and concern on her face. Rumplestiltskin does not look at her for a long moment.
There was. There was a son. I lost him. As I did his mother.
Belle shakes her head, looking down as she collects her thoughts.
I'm… I'm sorry.
She bites her lip, keeping her eyes off of him. And then, almost knowingly:
So - you were a man once. An ordinary man.
Wistful amusement. She smiles and turns to peer at him. He doesn't move.
If I'm never going to know another person in my whole life, can't I at least know you?
She's coaxing, and he responds, standing.
Belle starts to smile. He puts the cup down.
Perhaps you just want to learn the monster's weaknesses!
What is that hand gesture. Stop. Her head is tilted, eyes narrowed, expression pleasantly acerbic. She narrows her eyes to discern, and then smiles, eyebrows raising.
You're not a monster.
She shakes her head.
You think you're uglier than you are. That's why you cover all the mirrors up, isn't it?
She gestures to one of them and then raises her chin, challenging.
She smiles, knowingly. Someone knocks on the door. Basically, Gaston doesn't get ten words out before Rumplestiltskin somehow turns him into a rose without Belle noticing, because what the fuck, she was right there.
The doors close, she turns around, one eyebrow arched. She moves toward Rumplestiltskn easily, and he approaches, hands behind his back.
Who was that?
Just an old woman selling flowers.
She nods, looks away. He dips into a bow and offers her
She bites back a wide grin.
If you'll have it.
She takes the rose, face melting into a soft smile, and then, teasingly politely, she falls into a curtsy.
Why thank you.
Belle laughs, that grin finally breaking through. She smells the flower coyly and walks away to put it in some water. And trim it. Ouch.
You had a life, Belle. Before - this.
As he speaks, she listens attentively, slowing her preparations with the flower.
Friends. Family. What made you choose to come here with me?
She turns slowly, considering.
Sufficient enough, she nods, reaching into the cabinet for a vase.
You know, there aren't a lot of opportunities for women in this land to - to show what they can do, to see the world, to be heroes.
Her eyes widen, face becoming more animated as she expounds, full of questioning glances and blinking and smiles.
So, when you arrived, that was my chance. I always wanted to be brave.
She clip's the rose's stem, head rocking from side to side for a moment.
I figured, do the brave thing, and… bravery would follow.
She ends it with a sincere, purposeful look in his direction.
And is it everything you hoped?
She chuckles, placing the rose in the middle of the table as she reclaims her seat.
Well - uh - I did want to see the world.
She clears her throat, leans in as though sharing a secret.
That part didn't really work out.
Her lips tighten as she tries not to laugh. She keeps it in, looks away.
I did save my village.
And what about your, uh, betrothed?
OH BOY. She pauses, then looks away, speaking low, tensely. She laughs.
It was an arranged marriage.
She shakes her head.
Honestly, I never really cared much for Gaston.
Her expression turns into something hopeful, something dreamy. She smiles.
You know, to me, love is… (again, she leans in) love is layered.
Her eyes lose focus on him, staring into space as she thinks. She speaks passionately, almost breathlessly.
Love is a mystery to be uncovered.
Rumplestiltskin stares at her, nearly entranced. Belle shakes her head, sitting up straight again. Her forehead crinkles in disdain.
Yeah, I could never truly give my heart to someone as superficial as he.
He shakes his head. Belle smiles a tiny, lopsided smile as her eyes soften. And here is the exact moment, kids, that Rumplestiltskin basically melts into a puddle of sparkles. They say his heart grew three sizes that day, etc.
It's a little too awkward for Belle. She snaps out of it, shaking her head, turning away, and then turning toward him. Her eyes widen.
But - um. You were going to tell me about your son.
She smiles widely, urging.
I'll tell you what. I'll make you a deal.
Belle sits up, hands folded, looking down at him with interest.
Go to town, and fetch me some straw, and when you return, I'll share my tale.
Belle is utterly dumbfounded. Her jaw drops. She closes her eyes and shakes her head.
But… You - town.
He nods. She narrows her eyes.
You - you trust me to come back?
Oh, no. I expect I'll never see you again.
She leans back, face troubled, eyes searching.
Belle walks along the pathway through the woods. She hears a horse whinny in the distance, hears the clacking of wheels behind her. She turns and peers. When she sees the carriage approaching, she hurries to the side of the road to get out of the way, watching as the carriage makes its way to her, then slows to a halt. REGINA opens the door, all like, as the kids say nowadays, "Surprise, bitch."
Did my carriage splash you?
Belle looks down, shaking her head, then back up with a smile.
Oh. Oh, no, I'm - I'm fine.
The smile turns thin, and she nods. She sets out on her way, but stops when Regina speaks again.
You know, I'm tired of riding.
Belle frowns, chin raised, eyes tightened.
Let me stretch my legs and walk with you for a spell.
Belle's eyes go wide in surprise, but she blinks, lips parted, and she surveys Regina. But okay, Reggie, let's do the walking thing. Muffled Sondheim playing in the distance.
You carry very little.
Belle spares Regina a somewhat-amused glance. This is awkward.
I don't want to be slowed down.
She takes a look down at her basket because apparently she's Dorothy or something, but looks back out at the road in front of her, leaning her head back, closing her eyes. She walks a step ahead of Regina, mouth set downward.
Mm. You're running from someone.
She laughs. Belle turns to her, brows knit, leery. She starts to disregard it, turns away, but:
The question is, master or lover?
She jerks her head back to Regina, and her eyes flicker away before her expression turns unsettled (eyes cast downward, mouth parted, brows heavy). She keeps walking.
Oh. Master and lover.
Belle's eyes dart to and fro, and her mouth opens in annoyance before she rolls her eyes, looking away and twisting her jaw. She bites her lip to keep quiet, sets her mouth in a line, and turns to Regina, looking none the worse for wear. She closes her eyes.
I might take a rest.
She smiles apologetically, eyes tensing. She tilts her head and gestures with her arm.
You - you go on ahead.
Regina slings an arm around her shoulders and leads her on. Belle looks away, tenses, looks at Regina, then away in confusion.
So if I'm right, you love your employer, but you're leaving him.
Belle peers at her, blinks, and concedes, closing her eyes, pausing. She tilts her head, forehead creasing.
I might love him.
A tiny smile pulls at the corner of her mouth.
I mean, I could, except…
She picks her head up, a brief upward glance of her eyes. She focuses on the road again, the picture of debating and exhaustion. Her brows tighten and she frowns. She grimaces.
Something evil has taken root in him.
Sounds like a curse to me.
Belle studies Regina.
And all curses can be broken.
Belle looks down, then back at the queen, wary.
A kiss born of true love would do it.
Something comes over Belle's face, something inquisitive and hopeful all at once. Her eyebrows lower. Regina bursts out laughing.
Oh, child, no. I would never suggest a young woman to kiss a man who held her captive. What kind of message is that?
Belle turns away from her, frowning in thought. Her eyes dart. She looks upward, then down. She shakes her head.
She doesn't look convinced. The word is forced. She concentrates.
Besides, if he loves you, he would've let you go.
Belle's eyes widen. She goes still.
And if he doesn't love you, well, then the kiss won't even work.
Belle turns toward her again, breaking out into a surprised smile. Her brows shoot upward.
He did let me go!
Her face melts into something scrutinizing, narrow.
Yes, but no kiss happened.
Belle sighs, pondering for a second's time.
And a kiss - a kiss is enough?
Her eyes go wide in relief and she looks down, staring upward at Regina?
He'd be a man again?
An ordinary man.
Belle keeps her eyes pinned on Regina, half-marveling, half-unsure.
True love's kiss will break any curse.
Belle's heartstrings are, indeed, plucked. Her lips tug into a smile.
Rumplestiltskin has literally been watching at the window all day for Belle's return but oh no, gotta be tsundere as shit and run down the stairs and act like he's been spinning instead. That's cool.
Belle enters through the front door, basket and cloak in hand.
Oh, you're back already. Good. Good thing. I'm - uh. I'm nearly out of straw.
Belle lifts her chin and tilts her head, giving him a side-long glance and holding back a smirk.
She cracks and smiles, putting her basket down next to his spinning wheel.
She leans in, close through the spokes in his wheel.
You're happy I'm back.
And then she moves back, grinning.
I'm not unhappy.
She smiles warmly, looking down, before keeping her eyes on him and coming around to the other side of the wheel to take a seat. Also, to put a hand on his shoulder, leaning in close.
And - uh - you promised me a story.
She lets her hands linger on the back of his neck.
She plucks the yarn from his hands and puts it back its spot before she takes a seat and looks at him expectantly.
Also, she puts a hand on his thigh, leaning in closely once again, staring up at him ardently.
Tell me about your son.
Uh. I lost him. There's nothing more to tell, really.
She shakes her head, never breaking her gaze. Her head is inclined to the side.
And since then, you've loved no one. And no one has loved you.
Her face twists into a tiny frown while her eyes remain compassionate, eyebrows set and straight over them. Rumplestiltskin leans in close, examining. He speaks in a whisper.
Why did you come back?
I wasn't going to.
(pulling into a kind smile)
But then… something changed my mind.
She stares at him, takes a breath, stares at his mouth, and together, they move toward one another, finally meeting in a kiss. They pull away, and Belle opens her eyes to view him.
Her eyes go wide in surprise as he backs away.
Oh. What's happening?
There's a change in his skin. He glows; ripples of a human being show through in his confusion. Belle watches, delighted, and reaches up to stroke his hair.
Kiss me again. It's working!
Belle shakes him gently by the shoulders, grinning and enthralled. She moves closer, eyes alight with hopefulness.
Any curse can be broken.
Rumplestiltskin stands up. The glowing stops.
Who told you that?!
Belle watches, eyes knit and mouth agape, distraught, as he begins his tangent.
Who knows that?!
She shakes her head and looks away, closing her eyes.
I - I - I don't know. She, uh - she - she -
Belle sits, closed in on herself, as Rumplestiltskin makes his way to the mirror.
Belle rises, peering over at him
You… evil… soul.
He tears the drape down from the mirror, gesticulating wildly as Belle creeps up behind him.
This was you! You turned her against me!
Belle approaches the table, staring straight at him, concern etched into her face.
You think you can make me weak? You think you can defeat me?!
Who are you talking to?
The queen! Your friend, the queen.
Belle jolts back in surprise, still frowning, eyes still constrained.
How did she get to you?
Belle shakes her head, distressed.
The - the queen? I don't -
She leans forward, and Rumplestiltskin approaches.
I knew this was a trick. I knew you could never care for me.
Belle's face is the epitome of shocked concern, her limbs slack, her jaw loose.
Oh, yeah. You're working for her.
Belle cocks her head, brow furrowed, and flexes the fingers of her hand.
Or is this all you?
He points to her, she straightens.
Is this you being the hero and killing the beast?
Belle stares, disbelieving, scrutinizing. She reaches out for his arm to console him.
It was working -
He tosses her away.
She bounces back, grabbing for him, chin raised upward as she pleads with him.
This means it's true love!
Shut the hell up!
Why won't you believe me?!
He reaches out and grabs her, shaking her by her arms even as she leans away from him in disastrous confusion, turning her head from him as he screams.
Because no one - no one could ever love me!
Rumplestiltskin opens the door to the dungeon and slings Belle inside, as much as she attempt to wrestle herself away from him. She hits the door on all fours, grimacing from the pain. He moves to leave, and she doesn't move until he does, instead staring, eyes flicked to the side, mouth open, forehead wrinkled with how appalled she is.
She sets her jaw and huffs, eyes ablaze.
He uses magic to close the door, and at the heavy sound, she gasps, face loosening to something distraught.
Belle sits in the dungeon, staring into space, becoming alert when she hears Rumplestiltskin in the hallway. She sits up, attentive, as he slowly makes his way into the dungeon. She swallows, eyes focused to the ground before she looks up at him.
She looks down, then back again, hesitant.
What are you going to do to me?
Rumplestiltskin sweeps a gesture toward the door.
Belle stays where she is, staring in confusion. She turns her head slowly, questioning.
I don't want you anymore, dearie.
She stares at him for a long moment, eyes glazed, takes a breath, And closes her eyes as she stands up. Her movements are hesitant, jerking. Unsure. Her eyes watch him, troubled and confused, but she marches past him, dusting off her skirt without a word. Her shoulders are straight and her chin is raised.
She stops, just outside the door, then turns on her heel, and stomps back in. She's leaning forward. Girl on a mission. When she speaks, her voice is harsh, but there's nothing but truth and hurt on her face.
You know, you were freeing yourself. You could've had happiness if you just believed that someone could want you.
She's leaning forward, toward him, glaring up at him. She gestures with her arms, slamming them down into the air. She stands up straighter, head cocked to the side, as she stares at him imploringly.
But you couldn't take the chance.
That's a lie.
She shakes her head, setting her jaw, mouth tightening, and stepping forward. She takes a breath, and pointedly:
You're a coward, Rumplestiltskin. And no matter how thick you make your skin, that doesn't change.
I'm not a coward, dearie. It's quite simple, really.
Belle watches him, eyes flickering and steely.
My power means more to me than you.
And again, she steps forward, with the tiniest shake of her head. She does not break eye contact.
No. No, it doesn't.
She nods, blinking, eyes fervid.
You just don't think I can love you.
Rumplestiltskin appraises her, and Belle raises her chin, leering at him with derision. Her eyebrows move upward in a challenging expression.
Now you've made your choice.
She softens into something closer to pity, choking back her own hurt.
And you're going to regret it. Forever.
Her voice starts to shake. She blinks, eyebrows twitching as she tries to keep herself and her resolve level.
And all you'll have is an empty heart…
She takes a breath.
And a chipped cup.
With one final, pointed glare, she tears herself away and marches out, leaving Rumplestiltskin alone in the dungeon.
A tavern. Dwarves are hanging out and doing shit and eating and drinking, as one does in a tavern. It's a pretty awesome time, and everyone is having it. Everyone except for Dreamy. He sits at the end of the table, awkwardly peering at the festivities. Another dwarf who I don't fucking know makes his way over to sit down.
What's the matter? You've barely touched your food.
I don't know. I can't eat. I can't sleep. I don't feel at all like myself. Maybe I should have Doc take a look at me.
You're gonna trust a dwarf that got his medical degree from a pickax? I wouldn't worry about it. Dwarves don't get sick. It must be in your head.
It's not in his head, it's in his heart.
Dreamy takes a look behind him. Belle sits there, arms crossed, head tilted, and in an entirely different wig than she wore two episodes ago because apparently keeping consistency is the hardest thing in the world. She smiles at him, somewhere between curious and sympathetic and sad. She looks away, then back to him.
You're in love.
Her mouth twitches in a conceding way. It's not some great revelation to her. Dreamy and that random-ass dwarf stare.
Oh, that's impossible. Dwarves can't fall in love.
Belle leans back and recrosses her arms on the table, leaning forward. She smiles a half-smile and her eyes remain locked on him, heartfelt.
Trust me. I know love, and…
She shakes her head, gestures to him as though it's obvious.
You're in it.
She shakes her head again, mouth settling into a thin, unhappy line. She speaks like it's grave news.
What's it like?
Belle peers at him, lets herself fall into a big, happy smile as she looks away in memory. She speaks softly.
It's the most wonderful and amazing thing in the world.
Her eyebrows shoot up as she speaks and she leans toward him with some sort of lost excitement, though remaining forlorn. She bites her lip, averting her eyes.
Love is hope.
She shrugs, eyebrows shooting upward and Emilie totally got her brows done between 1x12 and now.
It fuels our dreams.
Another shake of her head. She looks away as she considers her words.
And if you're in it, (leaning toward dreamy) you need to enjoy it.
Something changes in her eyes, something sets there, bitter and sad it shows in the set of her jaw and tugs at the corners of her mouth.
Because love doesn't always last forever.
She frowns, pinning him with a glance. She presses her lips together and turns her gaze downward.
But if love's so great, then why do I feel so bad right now?
Belle leans in again, speaking urgently.
You need to be with the person you love.
Yeah, but how do I know she feels the same way? All she talked about was going to see some fireflies, not loving me.
Dreamy scowls. Belle inclines her head, a knowing glance in her eyes. Her eyebrows draw together.
What - what did she tell you about these fireflies?
Uh, that she was gonna go see them on the hilltop tonight, that she heard they were the most beautiful sight in all the land.
Belle's mouth curls up into a smile. She laughs, looking away from him, shaking her head.
She wasn't telling you about the fireflies.
Her head inclines downward and she looks up at him, both amused and intentional all the same. In a phrase, "You fuckin' dumbass." She tilts her head back up, expression becoming more earnest.
She was inviting you to go be with her.
You think so?
Belle nods, keeping her gaze down at the table, smiling sadly. Her eyes flick back up, and she nods.
I've had my heart broken enough to know when somebody's reaching out.
She blinks, head tilting to the right, mouth changing into another unhappy smile.
One of the dwarves apparently won beer pong or something because they start cheering. Belle glances down at the table, then turns her attention back to Dreamy.
She leans toward him, smiling with as much encouragement as she can muster.
Find your love.
And back again, shaking her head.
Find your hope!
And she shoots him a hopeful, promising look.
Find your dreams.
A flicker of a smile.
EPISODE 22 | "A LAND WITHOUT MAGIC"
Belle and Gold hike through the forest, Gold in the lead. Belle hesitates, then stops.
He doesn't turn around to face her.
No, no, we're very close.
Belle sighs. She shifts on her feet, nervously, looking after him with hope. Her eyebrows shoot upward.
She takes a breath. He slows and stops, turning around with hesitance. She starts after him, walking up to him, mouth slack with awe. and body tilted as she peers. She shakes her head, holding back a smile.
I - I remember.
They stare at one another in disbelief, hers more relieved than his until he breaks into a smile. She takes a purposeful step toward him, keeping eye contact.
I - I love you.
Her face changes into something sad, hopeful, happy, and wistful all at once, eyes crinkling, eyebrows furrowed. He chuckles before taking her into his arms and yeah this is totally the kind of guy who would cry over a hamburger.
They embrace. She rests her chin on his shoulder and closes her eyes, holding him close.
Yes. Yes. And I love you, too.
She strains to hold onto him tightly, knuckles white, chin in the crook of his neck. He touches her hair, as she sinks back to ground level.
But hey - there'll be time for that. There'll be time for everything.
She leans in slightly to his touch, peering up at him.
But first, there's something I must do.
He turns to walk away, and Belle turns her head, following him with her eyes and frowning. Her eyes flick upward and her brows knit together as she takes off after him.
They make their way to the well. Belle stops short of it, and Gold guides her.
What is this?
This is a very special place, Belle.
Slowly, she turns her head to look at the well warily.
The waters that run below are said to have the power to return that which one has lost.
Gold steps up to the well. Belle watches, peers over, body leaning, then follows. He does a thing with some potions and shit that ain't cool, and Belle watches, taking a peek into the well as he drops it in like Voldemort's bubble bath. When it hits the water, she takes a step closer, expression disapproving (brows together, frowning, eyes tight).
Wind blows form the well, which overflows with purple smoke. Belle and Gold step down from the well. Belle watches the ground closely as it flows to her feet and begins the trek toward town.
Also, the magic is growing. Belle watches the smoke rise, leaning back to watch it grow against the trees.
I - I don't understand.
We're in a land without magic, Belle.
He steps close to her, nudging her.
And I'm bringing it.
She leans in toward him, troubled, hesitant - confused. She peers up at him, and it turns to something shocked and wary.
Magic is coming.
She closes her mouth, tightens it. Her eyes flicker away from him and she jerks her head.
Gold never takes his eyes from the magic
Because magic is power.