The Dark Beauty

by Bellerina98

Summary:

"I don't love Will. And, I am NOT letting you die."

When Rumplestiltskin is moments from death, Belle makes a decision that will change her fate forever. Dark One Belle season 5a canon divergent AU.

Notes:

Disclaimer: I do not own or have rights to any Once Upon a Time characters or plot. I am a fan who wrote this for fun (fair use). This is how I imagine the end of season 4 and the beginning of season 5 if Belle had become the Dark One so I do incorporate quotes and scenes from the show.

Chapter 1: Operation Mongoose

Belle woke up on the floor in her apartment above the library, still dazed from the Heroes and Villains memories.

He used me. Again. He created this fake reality where I was his wife, and we had a family together. How like the Dark One to use a cheap trick like the author to manipulate me for his own gains rather than put the hard work into our relationship, she sniffed. We’re supposed to be true love. Why can’t he be honest with me?

In the safety of her mind though she admitted he had spun quite a nice fantasy for them. In the new story, Rumplestiltskin had been a true hero like those of her books. He was the Beast-slayer not the Beast. Children cheered when they saw him coming down the path on his white horse with his heavy golden armor shining brilliantly in the sun. The people adored him and rightfully so. He selflessly helped everyone simply because it was the right thing to do: her handsome hero.

And, at the end of the long day, her knight in shining armor galloped back to her, to the cottage they shared. It was a surprisingly quaint home starkly contrasted to his magnificent Dark Castle with all its expensive trinkets and furnishings.

In the story, he would rush through the door, his eyes filled with nothing but love and kiss her passionately, sweeping her off her feet.

The hardest thing about Rumple being an incredible hero was the time they spent apart as he saved kingdoms and rescued distressed maidens.

What was even more remarkable to her was that they had a child, a son, in this alternate fairytale. Rumple had written a story where it wasn’t just Belle and him even though that would’ve been enough for her. They had a family together. A family full of love and goodness. She didn’t even know Rumple wanted another child. She wished he had told her.

I suppose in his way he did, she sighed.

Rumplestiltskin had been terribly devastated by the death of Baelfire, his first son. She always figured he was too wounded to try again and—although Belle secretly yearned to be a mother, having cherished her own relationship with her mother—she knew it was unfair to expect that of Rumple who already had the experience, and it didn’t turn out well. She needed to be patient and supportive of his loss. Still, in the short time she knew Neal, she felt as though she were his mother in a strange way. She was also heartbroken after his death.

She didn’t know the author could just create beings like that. She felt a sharp pain at the realization that the author could take away that most cherished being as well. Belle wanted desperately to hold her tiny baby, to snuggle him, and kiss him again. It had felt so real, so wonderfully real: the little smiles, the ten little fingers and toes, the bundle wrapped in a small baby blanket, the new baby smell she didn’t know she needed, the soft cries and the piercing wails, the warm feeling of the baby pressed against her chest, breastfeeding. Her chest shook with sobs as she realized her body had lost everything that made her the mother of a newborn.

I’m just me again.

She craved her baby more than anything. It felt like a piece of her heart had been ripped out of her. This fate was just too cruel.

Although she could never endorse Rumple for his evil actions, she had to acknowledge that she was happy in the alternate reality. They were at peace for once in their lives, and everything felt perfect and easy.

She wiped her tears away.

Belle knew Heroes and Villains had been written to give the heroes terrible lives and the villains the best lives. She wondered what her life in the story meant about who she was. As much as she hated to admit it, she had been happy.

I’ve failed. All I ever wanted was to be a hero, and I have failed in that. She rose to her feet. I refuse to believe it is too late though. I have done enough enabling. I am going to confront Rumple for the beast he is and prevent him from hurting any of the heroes again.

Belle smoothed her skirt and held her head high. Fueled with a new fire, she stormed out of the library and into the streets of Storybrooke where she saw others picking themselves off the ground and recovering from the effects of Isaac’s writings, likely as disoriented as she had been a few minutes ago.

She pulled her burgundy jacket tighter around her shoulders. The air outside was a bit chilly.

It was at that moment her phone vibrated in her pocket, and she noticed several missed texts from Will Scarlet:

Hiya Belle you alright?

Belle?

That was one helluva ride eh?

Look I know we haven’t talked much or seen each other for days now but I still wanna know you’re okay. I don’t remember seeing you in the story at all.

Text me

Belle sighed and ignored all the messages, stuffing her phone back into her pocket.

I’m sorry, Will, but confronting Rumple is more important right now.

Belle swung the door to Gold’s pawnshop open and nearly ran face first into the author, Isaac. She was so surprised to even see him there that she didn’t have the chance to be angry at him.

“He’s all yours, lady,” Isaac sneered and scurried out the door.

Yes, I suppose he is.  

Belle slammed the door behind her. Isaac was a leech, but Rumple was a bigger issue. She hoped the Charmings would find a way to stop Isaac, but she couldn’t let Rumple get away with everything. She owed it to herself and everyone else who had been cursed in the book to stand up to her husband.

She turned to face him.

He looked out of breath and confused, so opposite the hero she had seen in Heroes and Villains which confirmed to her how fake it all was.

“Belle! You came back for me,” he whispered quickly, leaning against a nearby display case.

Belle flooded with rage. Of course, he would think that. “I came back to make sure you weren’t going to try to hurt anyone else!”  She pointed an accusing finger at him.

“No, no Belle you don’t understand,” he stuttered feebly.

What had happened to him?

Letting go of the display case, Rumple reached out a hand to her, but she took a step back, and he stumbled forward.

“I only did what I- what I thought was-” Rumple said and with each word he tumbled closer to the ground gasping for air and finally crumpling onto his side into a fetal position with a choking sound.

What is going on?

She had never seen him this fragile before and Belle was both perplexed and… worried. She knew she shouldn’t be, but she couldn’t help feeling worried for her husband, her lover, her true love. After everything he did to deceive her, she should just walk away, but her heart was pounding furiously in her chest, and she couldn’t make her feet move nor could she keep her eyes off of him.

He grunted like a wounded animal.

“Rumple!” Belle cried.

He didn’t say anything, just writhed on the hardwood floor.

Then, everything changed.

Before Belle consciously knew what she was doing, her body was down on the ground kneeling by his side and shaking his shoulders. What had been mere concern from her a second ago was now full-blown panic.

No, no, no our story CANNOT end this way!

“Rumple?!” she said louder, but he didn’t respond.

His eyes flickered shut, and he stopped breathing.

Belle sat on the floor next to Rumplestiltskin, continuing to shake his lifeless body and call his name.

After a few seconds he regained consciousness, gasping and lifting his head longingly up to hers.

With a great sigh of relief, Belle’s muscles unraveled a large knot she didn’t know was there.

“Hey,” she soothed him. She put an arm around his shoulder to support his body into a sitting position while he leaned into her to try to wrap his hand around her waist.

Failing to do so, he convulsed, and fell over with a groan. He was trembling.

“What’s happening?” asked Belle softly, hoping he was lucid enough to give her a coherent answer.

She had never seen Rumple this physically weak before, and it was startling to say the least. He had always seemed so...invincible. She leaned in closer, so she could hear anything he might try to say. Any ill will and bitter feelings she had harbored seemingly evaporated in the face of her soulmate struggling to breathe.

“It’s my heart,” wheezed Rumple. He continued to sway. He wouldn't even look Belle in the eyes and instead stared at the space between them.  “The last human fleck of red…” he whispered and, taking another labored breath, “…is disappearing.”

Belle knew Rumplestiltskin was cursed by darkness. When he returned her heart to her, he had said he was losing all his humanity because of years of dark deeds. He had told her that if he kept hurting her there was certainly no hope for him as the dark hold on his heart would grow even more. Belle had thought he was speaking metaphorically at the time, as it was often hard to tell when he was being literal or figurative, but now she could see the physical toll the darkness had taken on him. If hurting her was destroying him, then perhaps helping Isaac to curse the heroes and force everyone into different roles was the final straw.

Belle’s eyebrows creased. “Your ability to love,” she realized sadly to which Rumple nodded. Belle sighed, her mouth hanging open as she struggled to process the change of events.

This new insight was both worrying and heartbreaking. Rumple had always struggled to be brave and to put love first. Even though he was quite the abhorrent creature when she had originally met him, she saw deep in his heart the ability to and need for love. She knew when he spared Robin Hood’s life that there was still hope, that there was indeed a good man trapped within a dark curse. It was her renewed faith in that tiny speck of pure goodness and love that kept her coming back.

But, what if that’s gone? What If there is no hope, no chance he could love and be loved? No, that can’t be right, not after everything he’s suffered. I will find a way to save him.

Rumple began to speak again, pausing every so often to breathe. “At least…in the end"— he finally met her eyes— “I got one last taste.” His lips twitched like they wanted to smile but couldn’t spare the energy. Instead, he blinked a few times.

Belle was on the verge of tears as she looked into his pained and blackening eyes.

He pulled her closer and whispered in a strained voice, “We were happy in there…we were in love.”

Belle wanted to scream but she couldn’t, not when he was finally being genuine with her. How could he be so dense? Did he miss the way she stared at him longingly when he put her heart back in her chest? It was always him.

Belle closed her eyes and smiled painfully. She leaned forward closer to Rumple and whispered back, “I was already in love.” 

Rumple averted her gaze again and gasped what might be his last breath as he staggered back in shock like she had struck him hard across the face.

Belle found his eyes again and squeezed his shoulder. “Everything we had in the book,” she said, shaking her head, “you could have had here. You could have been a good man with a good marriage for real.” She paused a beat and looked at him with concern and bewilderment as she whispered, “Why wasn’t it good enough?”

It wasn’t rhetorical; she truly wanted to understand him. Perhaps the price of their love is he would never understand her, and she would never understand him.

Tears brimmed in Rumple’s eyes. “Because I didn’t believe it.”

Now it was Belle’s turn to feel wounded.

After everything we’ve been through, how could he lose faith in our love? True love’s kiss, nearly 30 years of separation, me losing my identity and being cursed as Lacey, Rumple nearly being killed by Cora, Rumple going off to Neverland and dying killing Pan, Rumple losing Baelfire finally and being enslaved to Zelena, getting married. After all that he couldn’t believe our love was true?

Belle was destroyed. How could they pick up the pieces if they had never been put together in the first place?

Rumple began to cry, losing all composure, his face twisted with a self-loathing expression. His chin quaked. “Who could ever love me?”

So, it wasn’t that he doubted his own feelings, he doubted that she could truly love him—that anyone, really, could love a beast. The Dark One was the most blatantly evil creature in all the realms, and he couldn’t wrap his head around her loving him. Maybe it didn’t make sense, but it was true love: their love, beautiful and fragile and chipped.

He reached a trembling hand up to her face to cup her cheek and brush his rough thumb across her cheek and lips.

Belle felt a warm feeling overcome her. She placed her free hand over his, keeping it in place.

“I knew what I was getting, Rumple.”

He needed to know that he didn’t need to protect her from himself. She was strong and capable, just as he was gentle and loving. She had been there at his best and worst moments, and she would be there for every other moment from now on if she could.

“I wasn’t going to pull back,” she added, and it was true. Had he been honest and open with her, Belle would have gladly faced the darkness with him together. Unfortunately, he had been too much of a coward to let her in, to let himself believe someone could actually love him.

“But I made you do just that.” Rumple shuddered and grimaced.

Belle didn’t know how to respond. He was right. He was finally seeing what was always there, but it was too late.

Rumple glanced back to the door of his shop nervously and made his final plea: “There’s a whole world out there, Belle, for you.” He nodded at her, urgency flaring in his eyes.

Doesn’t he get it? He is my world.

She removed her hand from his and raised it to hold his face instead, so they were gently supporting and caressing each other.

“Go with Will,” he insisted. 

Without skipping a beat Belle shook her head, tears blurring her vision, and said, “I don’t love Will.” She reached out and held his cheek in her hand, stroking it gently. She took a deep breath, and Belle’s voice finally began to break, giving into despair when she said, “and, I am not letting you die.”

Rumple’s hand moved to caress her neck and pull her closer, and she shifted to oblige him.

Belle leaned in further, removing all the space between them and sniffling as they bowed their heads in a sad and desperate embrace. 

Rumple was the first to pull away, sucking in a shallow breath as he did so.  He turned with a shaky hand to pick up the discarded dagger from the floor. “Go, far away,” he told her, showing her the face of his dagger with the curly black letters etching his name and tying him to this damned curse. “When the man is gone…” he sniffed; Rumple held in his breath for all it was worth and dropped the dagger back to the ground like it had burned his skin. “…Only the Dark One remains.” He started to breathe heavily again like he had earlier. His whole body shook with the effort of talking to her.

“And that is more….” he groaned, spasmed, and gasped looking down. “…That’s more dangerous than…” he sniffed, beginning to sink, and Belle reached out to hold his hand in hers. His fingers were cold as ice. “…You could ever…” he choked, a sound that might have been the word “imagine,” and crumbled back to the floor, keeled over face first in pain.

Belle kneeled above him, rubbing his back in hopes of easing his pain.

“Rumple!” 

He fell completely limp to the floor.

“Hey!” she said, and she flipped him onto his back.

Oh, no, this can’t be happening.

“Rumple!” she yelled, and she clutched at his emotionless face desperately trying to bring him back.

Please don’t do this.

“Hey! Hey!” She continued to shake his body, but it was no use. Even with the Dark Curse, in his final moments he had been selfless in his plea to save her.

Dark curse be damned. I am not letting him go out like this.

She stood up and paced back and forth in the shop, a hand massaging her temples as she tried to come up with ideas. The shop, of course! There must be something here that can help him.

She quickly marched to the back and pulled some large ancient texts and spell books off the shelf. She carried them stacked high in her arms back to the entrance where he lay on the floor. Belle dropped the heavy books down on the nearest display case. She needed to do some research, but she also couldn’t leave him alone.

Rumple whimpered on the ground. At least she knew he was still alive, she thought, as she flipped through the books.

“Shh, it’s going to be alright,” she told him softly. “Everything will be okay. Don’t worry.”

Rumple continued to moan and shake, and she wondered if she was really talking for his benefit or hers.

She pulled out the large brown book on the Dark One, A Aky Acaz Ca Kawo, with its strange and arcane markings. She had used it when Neal and she were sent back to the Enchanted Forest to revive Rumple. After everything that had happened that seemed like a lifetime away. She had dug up the book again when she reorganized the shop after she learned Rumple had reentered Storybrooke thinking it might come in handy. At this point she probably knew his shop better than him.

She blew the heavy layer of dust off of the thick pages. There was still an intricately carved hole in the middle of the book where the key to the Vault of the Dark One had been before Neal used it to revive his father. The language in the text was foreign, and she had not given it much thought when she was looking for the key in the Enchanted Forest, but now she translated it diligently. 

“A long time ago the great sorcerer Merlin battled the Darkness. He forged a dagger in an effort to contain all the evil of the world. To prevent evil from razing all the land, Merlin used his powers, tethering all the dark power to one person who could be controlled: the Dark One.”

As if on cue, Rumple let out another groan, and Belle cringed.

“Shhh, you’ll be okay,” she soothed from above him. Although, even she didn't believe her words. Belle felt uneasy. “That’s it?” she said, pulling apart the pages and flipping them around hoping she had missed an important detail. “There has to be another way!”

Finally, she heard Rumple croak miserably, “there isn’t. Let me die, Belle. Save yourself.”

“Rumple, no!” Belle said, shaking her head vigorously, though she realized he probably couldn’t see the movement. “You’ve been through too much to have your happiness destroyed.”

He wriggled on the floor too weak to argue with her.

Rumple had passed out again, but believing he could still hear her, she kept talking. “I can’t destroy the darkness...but I might be able to pull it from you and contain it elsewhere to save your life until we can find Merlin. I’m no sorcerer, Rumple, but I was able to cast the protection spell you gave me over Storybrooke. Maybe I still have magic of my own,” she said finally, closing the book and rubbing her hands together.

I can still save him.

She stepped one leg over him and picked up his dagger from the ground. The dagger itself was vibrating violently, and even holding the hilt as she was, it felt as though it were biting into her skin and dipping darkness into her soul. Belle took a deep breath and crouched over Rumple’s comatose body.

Gripping the dagger tightly over his heart, she recited the incantation written in the book, “Purest evil, blackest bloom, darkness, too, can find its doom.”

Rumple’s eyes flashed open in apparent shock, and he clutched her arm with panic.

“No!”

“It’s okay. You’re safe now.” She smiled, and she touched her free hand to his face pushing back a strand of his damp hair. “I have always seen the man behind the beast, all right? But now? Now I see something else too,” she leaned in closer, so she could easily discern the familiar lines of his face. “A hero. And you, you just need to learn to see it too. I found a way to take the darkness out of you. Now it is your turn to take the darkness out of me. As a hero.”

“B-Belle! Belle! Please! No. Don’t do this,” he begged her through his tears. He pulled weakly at her sleeve but was unable to otherwise influence her, pinned to the ground by her body as he was.

“I love you,” she said.

Then, Belle was moving with lightning haste. She leaned in even closer, so she was straddling him to the hard floor. She could feel his short labored breaths tickle her lips now. She tightly cupped his face with her free hand trying to quickly memorize every detail of the moment; it might very well be the last time she see would him.

Then, she pressed her lips to his brusquely. For one powerful second she worked her lips passionately against his, willing herself to breathe warmth into his iciness.

She felt a large stirring and slithering come up from beneath her. When she lifted her lips from his, Rumple’s eyes fluttered shut, and then dark shadowy tendrils shot out from his heart and mouth arching his limp body.

It worked! I did it!

The dark tendrils surrounded her and circled her like vultures waiting for a meal. Then they found their mark and flew right into Belle’s chest, knocking her backwards off Rumple’s body, causing her to gasp, and raising her into the air.

The darkness snaked its way over her arms and legs and pulled them taut, testing and teasing her. They were like a tornado around her, pulling her up, covering every inch of her body, and dragging her away from him. Belle felt the immense suffocating pressure of the darkness pushing into her skin and weighing down her heart, but she held on tightly to the dagger. She wouldn't let it go. Belle raised the dagger above her head, and the darkness spiraled up her body reaching for it.

As the darkness overwhelmed her, she looked down to see Rumple and met his terrified gaze. He was paralyzed in fear on the ground with his mouth agape and his eyes wide open. The darkness was closing in on her vision when she saw the soft chocolate brown of his horrified eyes.

Then, there was nothing but darkness.

Belle and the Darkness disappeared from the shop, and the dagger she had been holding clattered to the ground revealing the words written on its face in curly black lettering:

Belle Gold

Chapter 2: Heroes and Villains

Summary:

Rumplestiltskin seeks help to deal with the aftermath of Belle’s decision.

“No!” Rumplestiltskin wailed.

Finally able to move again, he sat straight up as if a large weight had been lifted from his chest. He felt as if he had just woken up from a terrible nightmare. Crying out again, he reached out in the darkness for her, but it was too late. She was gone.

“Belle!” he yelled. Crying uncontrollably, Rumple grasped desperately at the floor of his shop for any remnant of Belle, but she was gone.

This isn’t right. This isn’t the way things were supposed to be. He was supposed to die and pay the price for all his sins, and she was supposed to live her life and be happy and travel the world with her new boyfriend.

“Belle,” he sobbed, pounding his fists against the hardwood floor until they stung.

How could she be so stupid? Is this her way of forcing me to be a hero?

He growled, scrambling to his feet. Losing his footing almost immediately, he quickly snatched his cane from behind the counter and used it to smash all the display cases to pieces. Broken glass and various spell books and texts went sprawling to the floor. He ripped pages out and hurled the crumpled paper balls in a fit of anger. His fury took its physical toll. He fell to the ground gasping in pain while clutching at his right leg which spasmed causing him to grimace.

My leg, It’s crippled again. My magic is all gone and so is the darkness.

He hadn’t felt this light or weak in centuries. He had forgotten what it was like to be free of the dark corruption. Even when he lacked the magic or power to express it, the curse had always been there. The relief felt like each breath he took was the first breath of air after being suffocated by smoke for far too long. For the first time in forever, his mind was truly quiet, his thoughts truly his own. He let out a crazy laugh at it all. Being in pain for so many years made the first few surreal minutes of normal life feel like heaven.

His laughing tapered off when he accidentally bumped something sharp and hard. He turned to find his dagger lying on the floor beside him. No, not his. Goosebumps traveled up his arms as he read the name with dread: Belle Gold.

He suppressed a gag.

No, not Belle. Not my innocent brave loving heroic Belle.

As if that weren’t bad enough, it had to have his surname tagged onto it too, just another indication of how he had ruined her. He didn’t know until now, but even after all the deception, banishment, and separation, she still had kept his name like a badge of honor.

“Oh, Belle,” he whimpered.

His head began to spin terribly, so he turned away from the offensive dagger, cradling his head in his hands and curling in on himself. The tears rushed freely, and his face contorted into a pained expression.

Stop it! The Dark One doesn’t cry, he chided himself. But, I’m not the Dark One anymore, she is.

He sobbed even harder and tugged at the edges of his hair in hopes that the pain would jar him. I have to calm down. I have to think. He took a shaky breath as he managed to relax his fingers. What would Belle do?

“Do the brave thing and bravery will follow,” that’s what she had told him. He pictured her saying it to him now, smiling brightly up at him with her pretty blue eyes. Recalling the way the darkness masked the light in those eyes just moments before, he shuddered.

I have to do something. I have to do the brave thing, to save her just as she saved me.

If only he had the faintest clue how to do that. Rumple didn’t know exactly what he could do, helpless and weak as he was without magic. It was strange to be faced with a problem without the Darkness whispering a solution.

Avoiding staring at the damning letters, he picked up the dagger and tucked it safely inside his suit jacket right over his heart.

He gripped his cane tightly, leveraging it to lift himself off the floor. The pain was miserable and almost nostalgic. It reminded him of the coward he had once been. The coward I still am, he corrected himself. He gritted his teeth and felt a sense of pride as he righted himself, leaning heavily on the cane and shifting constantly, so he wouldn’t fall back to the floor. Stabbing pain shot through his leg, as if the it was giving him an extra hard time to punish him for trying to use magic to escape from his injury.

No matter, I’m up now.

He gently rubbed his thigh to settle the pain. With a weary sigh, Rumple hobbled to the door, opening it just enough to allow his body to slip through making the small bell above his head barely jingle.

Once he was out the door, he made his way down the street as fast as his legs could carry him.

It was dark and chilly outside, and he hoped wherever Belle was she was warm.

Despite his own fears and reluctance to appeal to others, he admitted that he would need help to find her. He couldn’t think of anyone better fitted than the heroes who had just foiled his and Isaac’s plan. And, he had believed it to be such a masterful plot too. For a tangible moment, he thought he had actually achieved a happy ending of sorts. Perhaps it only appeared that way because of how desperate he was getting. He snorted at the thought of Isaac.

I hope he gets what’s coming to him, the selfish bastard. Villains don’t get happy endings, after all.

Oh, Belle.

He stifled a sob and told himself to hold it together, shrugging his shoulders and lifting his head. He would not, indeed could not, walk into the heroes a sniffling mess.

When he had been the Dark One, it was impossible to express any emotion. Everything was a battle in his head, but his face remained an impassive fortress of deceit. Now that the darkness had been snatched from him so suddenly, he found it difficult to hide his emotions at all.

Fear and despair practically oozed out of him.

He walked slowly and with difficulty down the block to Granny’s Diner where the lights were on like a lighthouse guiding him home. Music and laughter and talking thrummed from inside the restaurant. No doubt they were throwing a party to celebrate his colossal failure. He supposed he would need to gather whatever was left of his pride and dignity to be able to set one foot inside the diner.

This would not be easy.

Usually, he wouldn’t enter Granny’s Diner even if he was starving. The food was overpriced and overrated. People who wouldn't even give him an ounce of peace at his shop flocked to disturb his meals. Like a leper, his presence alone could sour the appetites of the customers, and he usually couldn’t help himself from making snide remarks or inquiries about overdue loan payments. Granny, knowing this, didn’t exactly encourage his patronage, glaring at him and serving him rudely. Honestly, he was a little skeptical about eating her food, and not just because it was pre-cooked freezer garbage. He didn’t trust the werewolf women not to add their own creative ingredients to his meal.

The only times he ever ate at Granny’s were when Belle came with him. With her by his side, the opinions of others didn’t matter in the least. He could be sitting in the fires of hell happily asking her if she wanted some ketchup with her burger. He smiled at the thought.

She loves Granny’s hamburgers. Or, at least she did before becoming the Dark One.

He sighed. Being the Dark One could certainly change a person.

She was always the brave hero, and he was always the cowardly beast. That was always how it had been, and that was always how it would be.

How could he go on now without her? Maybe, he would just pretend she was here by his side. She wouldn’t want him to give up this easily.

She had told him he could be a hero, a good man with a good life. He snorted at the absurdity of it. His life had never been good, and he’s never been anything that remotely resembled a hero. Belle’s steadfast faith in him was nothing short of miraculous. And now, it might be gone forever.

Well, if she can’t be a hero, I can damn well try. Even if he was all crippled and broken, he would do whatever it takes to save Belle—no, not broken, just chipped.

Rumplestiltskin struggled to open the door to Granny’s while holding his cane and not falling over. Having the dark curse removed seemed to drain him of all his strength. He lodged his cane into the tiny crack and twisted it like a crowbar trying to pry the door open, but when he went to grab for the door, he doubled over and wheezed, and it shut again.

He wondered what Belle would say seeing him struggling just to make it into the diner. She’d probably spout something about how no two heroes’ journeys are the same.

After a few more tries, someone noticed his struggling. The door swung open—almost taking Rumple with it as he didn’t realize he had been leaning into it— revealing the bright young face of his grandson.

Rumple sighed a breath of relief. Of all the people who could’ve opened the door right then, he was lucky it was Henry, who tended to be wishful and forgiving. No doubt if Regina or, heaven forbid, Hook opened the door, things would’ve spiraled downhill very quickly.

“Mr. Gold?”

“Hello, Henry,” Rumple tried to say in an upbeat tone with a weary smile as he regained his composure. Unfortunately, his voice croaked from having the power sucked out of it. He shifted his weight and twisted the cane trying to mask his nervousness with an almost dance-like twist. “May I come in?” 

Over Henry's head, Rumple saw Emma silently shake her head "no." Rumple gulped, but he was expecting this, so he shouldn’t even act surprised.

Henry didn’t seem to notice though, because he simply smiled and said, “sure.”

Henry opened the door wider for a grateful Rumple to shuffle in and shut it behind them. Rumple exhaled in relief at making it through this first “test.”

However, the relief immediately dissipated upon seeing what he greeted him. Rumple froze, pinned in place by the contempt of the customers. He couldn’t decide what was more amusing in that moment: his haggard appearance or the shock and disdain of Storybrooke’s citizens. Of course, none of it was amusing to him, but if he had been an onlooker witnessing someone else’s misfortune, he likely would’ve chuckled. Ironic.

He didn’t expect anyone would be pleased to see him, but he couldn’t have imagined things to be this bad. The upbeat tune died as Happy unplugged the jukebox and coughed in an awkward attempt to mask the sudden change in mood.

Emma, with tired circles under her eyes, was glowering at him with her arms folded. Humorously, Prince Charming also scowled at him with his arms crossed, a spitting image of his daughter. Snow White shrieked loudly, shattering the plate she had been holding and dropped her head into her hands as if his presence alone was enough to induce a headache. Granny grabbed a steak knife and bared it at him menacingly. I guess the old broad still has some nerve in her. Ruby spewed her beer, dribbling it down her chin, but she seemed too surprised to notice. Regina sneered at him, and Robin Hood wrapped a shielding arm around her back while giving Rumple a guarded stare. Hook, who had been sitting on a stool near Emma, leapt to his feet and jumped protectively in front of her, looking about ready to charge Rumple out the door any second now. And, everyone else was caught between silent shock and intense glares.

Rumple swallowed a lump in his throat. This would be harder than he thought. For a moment he wanted to turn tail and run the hell out of there considering all the murderous looks he got and his own physical inability to defend himself, making him feel starkly vulnerable, but he reminded himself to be brave for Belle.

Finally, Leroy spoke up. “What is he doing here?” he growled, jumping off his chair and slamming his arm on the table, but still hesitating like there was an invisible barrier around Rumple preventing him from being attacked.

Rumple was quite pleased he still had some semblance of intimidation, though he doubted it would hold up when they learned the truth.

Rumplestiltskin cleared his throat and splayed his free hand in an attempt to portray innocence. “Out for an evening stroll. I was hoping you might spare some cake?” he said, his accent popping up more than usual as he gestured to the mouthwatering “we won again” cake on the corner of the countertop.

He was relieved to see his sarcasm still intact. Of all the things the darkness had stolen from him, it was a small comfort to retain that.

Emma rolled her eyes. Then, they narrowed as she noticed Rumple’s changed demeanor.

No longer menacing, and lacking his confident swagger, he was leaning heavily on his cane, clutching it so tightly his knuckles were white and his arm trembled. His face was drained of most of its color and drenched with buckets of sweat and tears. His hair stood up at an odd angle like he’d just rolled out of bed, and he swayed awkwardly like he might fall over with a slight breeze. All the sarcasm in the world couldn’t hide that he was a changed man.

“Gold, what the hell happened to you?” Emma demanded, unfolding her arms.

Though she was the first to notice, he could see the others in the room do a double take in his direction.

“What happened to me doesn’t matter,” Rumple mumbled quickly. “Belle is in trouble.”

Looking about the diner, Rumple could tell by their shocked and concerned expressions each person Belle had touched with her kind soul, and it was certainly an unlikely lot. She always did have strange tastes.

“Guess she finally paid the price for loving the Dark One,” sneered Hook, one of the few who didn't show an ounce of pity.

Emma seemed taken aback by Hook’s remark, but Rumple wasn’t. It annoyed Rumple that the pirate would disrespect Belle like that, but Rumple knew Hook was only doing it to get under Rumple’s skin, and he wouldn’t let him. Now wasn't the time to take jabs at the pirate. That could wait at least until Belle was safe. For now, his goal was to plead for the heroes’ assistance.

“Wait, you said Belle is in trouble?” asked Ruby. Having finally regained control of her dropped jaw, her lips pursed with worry.

“Yes! Please, I need your help to save her,” Rumple all but got on his knees and begged them. He noticed a look of dark recognition fall through the Captain’s eyes as they fell back into their old tricks.

“Wait, what happened?” asked Snow White warily. Given their complicated history, he supposed it wasn’t entirely surprising she might think this was some elaborate trick.

When words failed him, Rumple proved his sincerity in the only way he knew how.

Wordlessly, Rumplestiltskin shifted his weight fully onto his good foot and slipped his hand into his suit jacket, pulling out the Dark One Dagger and revealing it to the crowd.

There were several audible gasps, and most of the remaining disdain for him turned to outright astonishment as Belle’s name glinted in the fluorescent lighting.

“Belle is the Dark One? And you’re….not?” said Charming.

 Always quick-witted that one, thought Rumple sarcastically, but he bit his tongue to prevent saying something stupid. Best not to burn my bridges before I’ve built them.

Rumple nodded. “Please, we need to help her!“ he said. “She doesn’t deserve this.”

“No, you do,” said Hook, brandishing his hook and raising his eyebrow. “But, here we are." He shrugged as if the matter held little importance.

Rumple scowled back at him.

Emma put a hand on Hook’s shoulder, wordlessly advising him to calm down, which he did, relaxing and looking back at her affectionately before withdrawing a step, but still glaring at Rumple.

“Wait, Rumple, slow down,” said Regina. “How did this happen?”

“I was dying…my heart was being consumed by darkness, so there would be nothing human left, just darkness. Belle found me, and”— he swallowed— “and she used a spell, I think to pull the dark magic out of me and tether it to herself. I think… she thought she could handle it better.” Rumple spoke as fast as he could, only stopping to take much needed breaths.

People around the diner started whispering in a way that reminded him strangely of the way the dagger used to call to him.

Emma regarded him with shrewd judgment, looking him up and down.

Rumple avoided her gaze, teetering on his good foot. He wasn’t in a good place to bargain, so he tried to appeal to her pity by throwing a bashful look her way.

Finally, Emma nodded and said, “We’ll help you.”

Clearly, the others weren’t expecting this or didn’t agree as Snow White gave her an outraged look, Hook clenched his jaw forcefully, and Regina raised an eyebrow.

Rumple ignored them all. Emma was the one he needed to agree to help him. He knew how to spot a leader from a mile away.

“You will? Thank you!” He felt a great weight of worry ease up on his shoulders, and he stood a little steadier.

He wasn’t sure if he should shake her hand or kiss her boot, but before he could take another step, Emma stopped him, raising a hand. “For Belle’s sake, not yours,” Emma clarified. “As far as I’m concerned you can rot in hell.”

“Noted,” said Rumple despondently. I don’t care what they think of me. I just want to find Belle.

“We still need to know everything first before we can act,” Emma told him.

Rumplestiltskin nodded and explained everything from when he saw Belle storm into his shop until he was hobbling down the streets of Storybrooke desperately seeking out the heroes' help.

After Rumple recited his whole tale, they plotted what their next move should be. They looked to one another, waiting for someone to speak up with an idea.

Hook looked up and spoke. “The Sorcerer’s Apprentice,” he said, waving his hand as if to jog his memory. “He has vast knowledge about the Dark One. Perhaps he could help?”

The Apprentice? The old man whom we trapped into the hat, thought Rumple dolefully. “Yeah, about that…I kind of trapped him in the Sorcerer’s Hat,” Rumple confessed. “Not one of my best moments, I know.”

Emma rolled her eyes, and Hook glared at him, huffing and folding his arms.

The Blue Fairy spoke up from a booth in the back of the room. “We know. I already freed him.”

“Ah, excellent,” said Rumple awkwardly, clearing his throat. He had never been so relieved to hear someone had reversed his plans.

“Where did you see Belle last?” Robin Hood asked.

“At my shop. One moment she was surrounded by all the dark magic, and the next she was gone with this in her place,” he said, showing the dagger again before stowing it back in his jacket. He realized there were lots of people he didn’t trust in this room enough to casually wave Belle’s dagger in front of their eyes.

Emma seemed to be considering the situation and formulating a plan. Finally, she nodded and put on her leather jacket to indicate she meant business. “Head back to your shop, then maybe you can find a trace of her. We’ll go find the Apprentice,” she said looking at her parents who also stood up. She whispered something to Hook who gave her an incredulous frown, but then nodded reluctantly when he met her intense stare.

Rumplestiltskin nodded vigorously, quite relieved. He was cunning, but he was no leader and certainly no hero. He would surely need the sheriff’s help to sort out this mess.

So, they headed off in two groups: Regina, Robin, and Hook went to Rumple’s shop with Rumple leading them, limping but with a bit more spring in his step than before. The Blue Fairy, Emma, Henry, Snow White, and Charming went to go look for the Apprentice in the Sorcerer’s Mansion. The rest stayed at the diner probably to gossip, or just went home for the night.

At the shop Rumple nervously awaited the Apprentice’s arrival.

The pawnshop was a mess, and he no longer had magic to fix it quickly, but he had far bigger concerns at this point beyond shattered glass and paper scraps.

They had tried to find a sign of her, but it was like Belle had been wiped off the Earth. He even tried reading the book she had gleaned the spell from, but it was in a foreign language he couldn’t decipher.

He delicately put Belle’s dagger on the counter in front of him, and paced back and forth, the clanking of his cane against the hardwood floor echoing in his ears as he ran a shaky hand through his hair.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look this anxious before, Crocodile,” Hook said, waggling an eyebrow playfully and leaning against the wall with his arms casually folded.

Rumple stopped his pacing and turned to face him. “I’m hardly the Crocodile anymore,” he said tersely, examining his smooth pale hands.

“True.” For a moment, Rumple believed the pirate would leave him alone, but he would not be so lucky. “Do you suppose your pretty wife will have green skin and rotting teeth now?” Hook teased.

Rumple shouldn’t be surprised that the pirate would try to take pleasure from his pain.

For a brief moment, he imagined Belle as a version of his cursed self: dark reptilian eyes, grayish-green skin flushed with scales, frizzy hair, filthy hands, and black claws. He shook his head, cleansing his mind of the image.

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll love her no matter what."

Belle could have dark magic pouring out of her every orifice, and she would still be the most beautiful creature he had ever had the privilege to lay eyes upon. Belle is beyond beautiful, and it would be foolish to deny that, but it's not the reason I love her. Love is more powerful than the superficial details on the surface. Love is layered. She had taught him that.

“You truly do love her?” Hook said, shock raising his voice and his eyebrows.

“With all my heart.” 

He walked over to a nearby chair and sat down to rest his sore leg. He couldn’t remember the last time he strained it so much without having magic to compensate. He twisted his wedding band carefully around his slender finger. When he at last looked up, Hook was scrutinizing him like he was a puzzle he couldn't quite solve.

“And all the carnal beauty of my wife, is but skin-deep, but to two senses known; short even of pictures, shorter lived than life, and yet the life survives, that’s built thereon: for our imagination is too high, for when bodies meet they satisfy,” Rumple quoted.

“Where the bloody hell did that come from?” 

Rumple sighed looking down at his ring again.

He missed Belle.

She always understood his cryptic literary references. Ever since he gave her the keys to the Storybrooke library, she had hunted the place down for classic literature from the Land Without Magic ordering even more from other libraries, so she could challenge him with quotes like he did with her. By now she was far more well-read in Enchanted Forest and English literature than he was. She was the one who had shown him this poem in the first place. She had said it reminded her of him. He looked up and ceased fidgeting with the ring.

“Thomas Overbury. An English poet from the 17^th century. He wrote the ‘scandalous’ poem ‘A Wife’ as a criticism of what he perceived to be the unsatisfactory frivolous affair between Robert Carr and Frances Howard, and as a way to express his ideals of love in marriage. Shortly after he wrote the poem, he was imprisoned in the Tower of London where he was poisoned to death by Frances Howard.”

“Great history lesson, but what does that have to do with Belle being the Dark One?” 

Rumple shrugged. “It is simply an interesting story, I think worth retelling. It was the first documented instance of the term ‘skin-deep’. Beauty is skin-deep: true love is eternal, it looks beyond what is given on the surface to the layers below. And, it may also be a cautionary tale for interfering in the affairs of pernicious women,” Rumple said smoothly and glanced at Hook who glowered back at him.

Hook opened his mouth as if to retort, but then he seemed to think better of it and promptly shut it, amusingly resembling a codfish.

With a tilt of his head Rumple grinned widely, ran his tongue over his dry lips, and folded his arms predatorily while a speechless Hook clenched his jaw shut and held his stare.

For a second Rumple glimpsed doubt in the Captain’s eyes which shifted to anxiously check the time on a wall clock behind the shop’s counter before putting on a mask of annoyance.

Rumple was happy to see he could still sometimes get the best of the Dear Captain Hook.

Rumple didn’t say anything else on the topic, and Hook didn’t seem interested in pondering the historical implications of literature, so they sat in silence as they waited for the others to arrive.

Soon enough, Emma entered the shop followed by Snow, Charming, and the Apprentice. Rumple pouted. His shop was too small for such a crowd, and he had to resist the urge to kick everyone out and close it for the night.

The Apprentice was surprised to see Rumple, and he hesitated in the threshold, looking at the slight man slumped in a chair.

“You didn’t tell me you would be assisting the Dark One,” said the Apprentice as he narrowed his wrinkly eyes at Rumple.

“I’m not exactly the Dark One anymore,” Rumple offered.

“Be that as it may, you still hurt many innocents advancing your selfish desire for power. I have no intention of helping you,” the Apprentice said. Rumple felt his heart sink like a stone, and he slumped further in the chair. He was so used to getting his way through intimidation and cruelty, he wasn’t sure how to move forward.

Is this where my mission to save Belle fails? No. I’m not about to give up now because a mouse turns his nose up at me.

“I’m sorry for what I did,” Rumple apologized. “I realize it was wrong, but it wasn’t all me. I was being compelled by the Dark One corruption. The same corruption that now has a grip on my poor wife.”  Rumple gritted his teeth, so he wouldn’t break down crying as he said the words, “Please, I know everyone dislikes me, and that’s fair, I am truly sorry for what I did. But, she needs help, and I can’t do this alone.”

The Apprentice stared him down, but perhaps he saw something honest in Rumple’s broken expression because he eventually sighed and relented, entering the shop. “Your wife must’ve used a spell from one of the Sorcerer’s spell books. You must find him. Only he can help your wife. The Sorcerer is the only one with the power to destroy the darkness once and for all, before it destroys everything.”

Oh, is that all? 

“Where is he? Who is he?” Emma asked, but Rumple closed his eyes as he already knew the half the answers.

This just keeps getting more and more difficult.

“He’s far, far from here,” said the Apprentice. “Find him. His name is Merlin. You must stop the darkness. Find Merlin.” Then, the Apprentice looked at their tired faces, nodded, and left the shop to allow them the privacy to plan.

Rumple got up and locked the shop’s door, flipping the closed sign over before he sat back down.

“Why would she do this?” Regina asked. “She should know better than anyone how dangerous playing with the Dark One can be.”

Rumple wondered if that was Regina’s idea of an ill-conceived jest. He raised his hands helplessly, ignoring whatever jibe was in her previous comment.

“The darkness was going to destroy me…. she saved my life.” 

“I know that, but why?” 

Rumple rolled his eyes. Hilarious. Apparently, Belle is the only person in all the realms who thinks I’m worth a damn, and now she’s gone.

“I guess because she loves me.”

“And now, she’s the Dark One,” said Henry. 

“Now, she’s a problem for all of us,” Regina said.

Was that a threat?

Rumple rose to his feet and pointed a finger at Regina. “She’s still my wife. She’s still good!” 

His Belle could never be dark, never. She was the only light in his life.

“I hope so,” said Regina. “It’s not like she rode off on a unicorn, Gold. You said it yourself, she got sucked up by a vortex of evil.”

Rumple sighed. I suppose she has a point. This isn’t looking good. Still, I can’t lose faith in the one person who stood by me through everything.

“Where is she? Where’s she gone?” said Robin Hood, still looking around the shop for any sign of her.

It was useless.

“My best guess?” Rumple said. “The Vault of the Dark One in the Enchanted Forest. It’s where all darkness is born. That’s where Baelfire and Belle revived me after I died.” The words stung as he said them, and he sat back down. They were the only two people who stood by him and fought for him. Baelfire sacrificed his life to save him, and he paid the price for loving a coward. She saved him time and time again, and once again, she would suffer because of him. It seemed all he ever did was hurt the people he loved most.

Hook picked up the dagger from the counter, startling Rumple who jumped up from his seat to snatch it from him, but Robin held him back.

“Woah there,” said Robin.

“Hey! Don’t!” Rumple said, but Hook ignored him.

“If we can’t find her, maybe we can bring her to us.”  Hook lifted up the dagger, admiring the intricate writing. “Dark One, with this dagger, I command thee. Return!” he said and gave it a firm shake.

Nothing happened.

Rumple bared his teeth at seeing the Captain trying to use the dagger to control Belle. If I had my magic…

“Put that thing down before you hurt yourself, Guyliner,” Regina said.

Or before I hurt you, thought Rumple, still struggling against Robin’s strong arms. 

“Dark One, appear!” Hook yelled.

Silence hung in the air.

“That’s not going to work,“ Rumple said, finally shaking off Robin and pushing him aside.

He snatched the dagger from Hook. Caressing the blade preciously in between his thin fingers and carefully putting it back in his suit jacket again, he silently swore to never be so stupid as to put it down again.

“Did you not hear me? For someone who spent his entire existence trying to kill a Dark One, you’re sure ignorant about the dagger powers. She isn’t in this realm and the Dagger can only summon the Dark One from any corner of this world. The only way we can reach her is by making a portal to the Enchanted Forest.”

His next words dripped with bitterness:

“And, as you all well know, portal jumping is just outside my purview.”

Chapter 3: The Dark One

Summary:

Belle is guided by a familiar face on her path to becoming the Dark One.

In the middle of a vast forest, far, far, away from Storybrooke, Maine, the Vault of the Dark One opened with a click and a noisy grind. Black tar slowly gurgled and churned from the grate in the ground. The tar grew and bubbled into the figure of a person: an agitated Belle Gold.

Belle woke with a buzzing headache and the strange feeling that her whole body was liquid. She felt older and heavier suddenly. Something dark and forceful coursed over her veins like rubber over wires.

She looked around, gauging her surroundings carefully. The bright sun was pressing against her pale skin, leaving a tingly sensation over her cheeks. The forest was quiet except the chirping of a few songbirds and the rushing sound of a nearby brook. There were thousands of tall pines around her, and the floor abounded with green shrubs and swaths of mud. A gentle breeze tickled her face. It would almost be peaceful if she didn’t feel so miserable. 

With a start she realized she recognized this forest. Although, the last time she was here the trees and ground were blanketed with a thick layer of frost and snow. It was here that she and Neal revived Rumple.

“The Vault of the Dark One,” she whispered to no one in particular, looking down at her feet and, sure enough, seeing the intricate designs of the metal grate entrance burning into her soles.

She was wearing a thick cloak with the hood pulled up over her hair. This cloak reminded her of her finely tailored green one, but the pastel jade was now a much darker mossy green and the yellow flower design of the old cloak was replaced with black twisty flowers instead, stretching the length of the cloak like spiders. Underneath the cloak was a thin white cloth hospital gown identical to the one she had worn when she was locked up in Storybrooke’s asylum for 28 years. The thing clung to her skin with the isolated feeling of the asylum she had almost forgotten and left a vile taste in her mouth.

She drew her cloak around her for shelter from the unpleasant institutional gown. 

Beyond the birds’ conversational chirping, she heard the odd sound of someone whistling a lighthearted tune. Belle had the frightening feeling someone was watching her. She shivered and pulled her cloak closer. The scattered pain in her head dimmed and homed in, and she felt pulled in the direction of the mysterious whistling.

“Hello? Is someone there?” She tried to spy out the stranger.

The forest had quieted tremendously.

The whistling stopped abruptly.

There was no sign of life anywhere in the vicinity.

“Miss me?” clucked a high-pitched voice affectionately.

That’s odd. It was so familiar, almost as if… Belle turned 180 degrees to see him. Her eyes widened, and her jaw dropped as she took in the sight of her husband.

Sure enough, it was Rumplestiltskin, but not looking like he had the last time she saw him, plain and paralyzed. No, this was the beast Rumplestiltskin with stippled skin and coldblooded eyes and a smug impish grin. He was practically jumping for joy in excitement.

Belle gasped once she recognized him as really there. Her heart skipped a beat as she took a single unsteady step off the grate, closer to him. It had been so long since she had seen him in cursed form, she forgot how intimidating it could be. She was at a loss for words. He waved at her coyly, wiggling his fingers.

“Rumple?” she asked in astonishment as she blinked.

What is he doing here? He shouldn’t be the Dark One anymore.

“Not exactly,” he said with a chortle. He rolled his head, and flourished his hands. “Though I figured you might… enjoy me most in this form,” he said to her like he was sharing this information in confidence, and he winked at her friskily.

Belle felt heat rise to her cheeks, and she resisted the urge to giggle back at him. Not counting their brief return to the Enchanted Forest, it had been 30 years since she last saw him like this, green scales and leathers, full-fledged cursed, and it was as if not one day had passed for him. He hadn’t changed a bit. And she… she felt like she was back at his dark castle serving him tea.

This was Rumple, and yet it was not Rumple.

The feeling was unsettling and exciting. She was intrigued by the mystery of it.

She tilted her head. “What…are you?” she asked with obvious wonder in her voice.

“What, what, what, my what a rude question,” tittered Not-Rumple shaking his finger at her, and Belle hung her head apologetically. He didn’t seem bothered though and continued talking. “I’m many things,” he growled darkly. Stalking like a tiger, he circled her, preparing to strike, though his face still held an amused expression.

She looked about herself to identify open wounds that might attract his viciousness. Then, she turned in place and followed him with her eyes, lifting her chin, so he would know she wasn’t scared.

“I’m the Dark One’s powers inside you, the voice in your head,” he explained pointing at her head. Then, he paused and said, “the one that was in Rumplestiltskin's head.“ His tone turned playful, and he waved at her dramatically. “You did say you wanted to understand him, dearie.”

“I didn’t say that.” 

“Not aloud, no, but to yourself you did. I have access to all your thoughts, and, of course, all of his thoughts before you pulled me out of him. Thanks again for that. Rumplestiltskin is fine, but truly I’ve always desired to get into your head, dearie,” he said, his wicked grin growing with unabashed glee.

Belle’s cheeks reddened even more as a shiver went down her spine, and she frowned.

Oh, no.

“Oh, yes!” exclaimed the Dark One, and he jumped up and down, clapping his hands and laughing.

Watching him move was like seeing a child on cocaine, a disturbing thought to be sure. It made the hair on her neck bristle. He was never in one place for long, always laughing or teasing, playing with his hands or jumping, cooing and cawing and tutting about. His voice never stayed at one tone either, always playfully changing tune or accent like he was some kind of schizophrenic composer.

When Belle watched him, she felt like she was in slow motion, or maybe he was sped up, as he was often wound up skipping or stalking. Belle was so captivated that she couldn’t look away.

She wasn’t sure if she should be enticed or frightened.

“I think we’re going to have lots of fun together, dearie,” he purred.

Belle shuddered and looked away from him. She avoided his gaze and started to walk the opposite direction into the forest. She had handled herself just fine dealing with Rumplestiltskin in the Enchanted Forest last time. She could surely do it again. If anything, who was better fit to deal with this pest than his wife? She just had to not let him get inside her head.

He rematerialized in front of her in a cloud of dark smoke making her jump back a step with a breathless yelp.

“I’m already inside your head.” 

“Would you stop startling me like that!” Belle scolded him neatly.

“It’s kind of my thing, dearie,” he said without a speck of remorse. “Have you forgotten me already?” He pouted, and his eyes twinkled with fake sadness.

“I have no interest in remembering you,” Belle said sternly. She was hoping her remark would shut him down, but the fire in his eyes only seemed to grow. “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” she said and she pushed him aside.

After a few paces, he reappeared in front of her again.

“Oh, and why not?” He bent down to capture her gaze. “You fell in love with me, dearie,” he said, sticking out his chest proudly as he gestured between her and him.

“No, I fell in love with Rumple. You were just his unwanted baggage.” 

The Dark One scoffed. “Well, that’s not entirely true. It’s futile to try to lie to me.“

Belle didn’t respond. She just stood there staring at him impassively.

He huffed.  “Fine, keep your feelings to yourself. I don’t need them yet.” There was something sinister about the way he said "yet." He made a sharp clicking sound with his tongue, and Belle trudged past him clenching her fists at her sides and, once again, feeling her cheeks flush. 

He soon reappeared back in front of her and slapped his hands against his lap. “Now, are you about ready to begin?”

“Begin what?” 

Belle looked around her. They were very likely the only people within miles, and there was nothing notable about this forest aside from the grated gate to the Dark One Vault which she was trying to avoid.

She took an effortful step around him and continued her walking. It didn’t matter because, every few paces she took, he reappeared beside her with a poof of dark magic.

“Learning to be the Dark One, of course! And, I must say I’m very excited to teach you.” He clipped the word “teach” and poked at Belle.

Belle opened her mouth to protest, but before she could, he was talking again. “You didn’t think it would be as easy as snapping your fingers and turning people to dust, did you? I suppose it is true that your husband makes it look easy. A sniveling rat here, a diamond necklace there, but it isn’t all rainbows and dark curses. Dark magic requires practice!” He shook his finger at her in mock reproach.

“Think of me as your guide,” he said with a silly little bow.

Belle snorted. He’s not serious, is he? I wouldn’t trust him to lead me to lunch much less in how to use dark magic.

Whether he heard the thought or not, he didn’t respond.

“But, I don’t want to use dark magic and I will never give in to the darkness,” Belle said, taking another wide step around him.

If this was a game of his, she was determined he would not win. She headed deeper into the forest pushing aside branches and stepping carefully over roots. This time he didn’t reappear in front of her.

“Bah, they all say that!” he barked from behind. “Even your dear Rumple.” 

Belle stopped.

“He said that?” Belle asked and turned to face, her curiosity piqued.

The Dark One nodded at her. He could see he had caught her attention, so he reeled her in. “He said a lot of things, dearie.” 

Belle wondered if it was really possible for the Dark One to access Rumple’s thoughts.

Seeing Belle’s growing interest, the Dark One twittered on. “He fashioned himself a hero when he took in the Darkness too. Something about saving his boy from the bully guards, ending the Ogres Wars, leading the wee children home, back to their pathetic lives,” he rhapsodized, and he pantomimed fighting a great battle and marching home.

“Oh, you weren’t planning on having children together, were you? Well, I suppose that’s neither here nor there now,” he prattled on, cocking his head to the side anticipating her reaction.

“What? Wha-what do you mean?” 

Belle hadn’t planned on having children with Rumple. It seemed like their relationship was always taking one step at a time hoping one of them wouldn’t be imprisoned, or killed, or consumed by darkness. They barely had time to plan a simple dinner date at Granny’s, much less a family. Still, the definitiveness with which he said it made her queasy.

“The Dark One can’t have children!” he jeered as if it should be obvious.

“What are you going to do? Have Dark One daycare? Mommy and Gorgon the Invincible? Breastfeed your baby with liquid malice?” He snickered at his detestable quips. “Not to mention your womb is hardly hospitable now,” he said pointing at her stomach.

Belle followed his gaze in horror and clutched at her stomach. His casual words made her feel empty, lifeless, worthless.

“Nah, your childbearing years are over, dearie,” he sneered and made his point with a swift flip of his hand.

“What?!” Belle shrieked, and she fell to her knees with tears in her eyes.

Over? They hadn’t even begun!

Belle hadn’t even thought much about children until yesterday when she awoke from the alternate reality, and yet she was horrified this wasn’t an option. Now, she wanted a child more than anything in the world, more than breathing. And, she would never have one.

She had supposed they would eventually settle down when witches stopped casting curses or monsters stopped attacking the city. There was always a crisis to deal with, and she had never felt rushed. But now, to have all possibility of it taken away, felt hopeless.

She kept wondering if there was a way she could have done something differently to have prevented this outcome. Perhaps, she could’ve found a different spell or gone down a different path, but it was too late to worry about it now.

I’m never going to be a mother. I’m going to be locked into this lonely dark destiny forever.

The awareness hurt like a knife through the stomach.

Now more than ever, she wished she could go back to their alternate life in the Heroes and Villains story cradling the little baby boy in her nurturing arms. He had been so warm and fragile against her chest. He was so perfect, so hers. And now, gone forever. He didn’t even have a name. And now, he was nothing more than a dream.

She buried her fingers into the dirt and took shallow breaths as she tried to hold in her tears. She wasn’t very successful, and warm tears soon streamed down her face landing in the dirt forming muddy puddles.

She felt bony fingers trace her back.

“Oh, now, don’t despair, dearie,” he cawed. “You’ll still have me, together forever,” the Dark One crooned fervently, pulling her up to her feet and brushing the dirt off of her. He looked like he might have even hugged her, if he wasn’t completely repulsed by human affection.

When she was steady, on her own two feet, he took a step back and reprimanded her, “The Dark One doesn’t cry.” Putting his forefinger under her chin, he raised her head.

She glared up at him, even as her eyes stung, but slowly nodded and snuffed out a sob. She took a few breaths and wiped her face clean.

 “Where was I?” he said, quickly moving on and putting a finger to his chin as if he hadn’t struck a devastating blow and instead they were just talking about the weather. “Oh, that’s right!” He snapped a finger. “‘I’ll never give into the darkness,’” he imitated her mirthfully.

Belle could only stare at him in equal measure disbelief and hate as he openly mocked her.

“Well, dearie, let me tell you about a monster who fell deeply in love with a maid, who thought he could be a good man, but all he ever did was lie and use her. Does that ring a bell?” he said with a wicked smile. Amused, he formed his lips into an “o” shape. “Aha, Belle!” he said, nudging her. “Get it? I do crack myself up.” 

She opened her mouth, but before she could say something, he continued.

“Everyone who sips from that dark well"— he pointed in the direction of the grate—“enjoys the taste too much, your husband included and soon you.” He sang the last word giddily. Then, his voice dropped again, and he said ominously, “The only way to stop it is to be killed. This is the fate of all Dark Ones.” He dramatically spread his arms and lowered his head.

Belle shook her head and forced her voice to stay steady.

“Not Rumple. I saved him from the Darkness, and he will save me too"

She believed in the power of true love above all else, and if Rumple could too, the Darkness wouldn’t stand a chance.

The Dark One pranced after her. “The coward with the faulty leg? You must be pretty desperate to put your faith in him. You’re not still holding out hope that he’ll come save you?” 

Belle clenched her teeth as his words started to seriously offend her. Somehow, he had crossed one too many lines, and it took all her strength not to snarl at him. Belle kept walking, not even bothering to check if he was following her. 

“As a matter of fact, I do. I love him. And I didn’t save Rumple’s life, so I could be responsible for destroying our happiness.” 

“The darkness is inside you. You can’t just walk away from it,” he said, reappearing in front of her and putting an arm out before she could walk away from him again.

“I can try!” said Belle hysterically. “I’m in the Enchanted Forest now, which means Merlin is reachable. He was the one who made the spell to tether the darkness to a person. He must have a way to destroy the darkness again, so I am going to find him. Either help me find Merlin or leave me alone!” 

“Merlin? That sad sapling? Oh no, dearie, you’re much better off with me."

Belle stopped again, turning to confront his pleased face. “No! I’ll never be like you,“ she shouted. “I won’t hurt the people I love. Rumple loves me, and I won’t hurt him.”

The Dark One gave a low gravelly chuckle. “Are you sure?” he said slowly, walking around her back and coming around to meet her stubborn stare. “You forget, I know all your thoughts as well as his.” He gave a dramatic pause, seemingly savoring every word as he preyed on her emotion. “You’ve already hurt him.”

Chapter 4: Life without Beauty

Summary:

Rumplestiltskin adjusts to life without dark magic as he gains further aid in his mission to save Belle.

Rumple had not wanted to halt the search last night, but Emma had insisted they would all work better on a full night’s rest and one day wouldn’t make enough of a difference to matter.

She doesn’t understand the Darkness, he thought. One day could make all the difference.

However, it was well after midnight, and they were still researching ways to reach the Enchanted Forest. Rumple had gone to seek Emma’s help for her ability to lead, so when she called it quits and promised to continue the search tomorrow, he had no choice but to agree.

His first night sleeping without the Dark Curse was quite disturbing. For once, his body actually felt weak, felt tired, and yet his mind couldn’t calm down. Tragically, it reminded him of the six weeks he spent banished from Storybrooke without magic and without Belle. Only this was far worse as he had no idea where Belle was or if she was safe.

He was wound up by fears that wouldn’t go away.

He considered the best case scenario: that Belle could control the darkness far better than he ever could, and they could live a somewhat normal life. Then, he considered that the darkness might drive her insane, or worse, she would give herself to the darkness willingly. What if someone else got a hold of the dagger and used it to control her? The thought sent violent shivers down his spine and left a sour taste in his mouth.

He ran his fingers delicately over the face of the blade to comfort himself.

No, he would never allow that to happen.

He considered every other possible scenario. Without his dark powers, speculation was more frenetic and empty than calculated and fruitful. The more he thought of it, the more it worried him, and the more he was filled with the need to be with Belle right now and every other waking moment.

Would Belle become paranoid and cruel like he was? It seemed like the very antithesis to her nature. Though, the Darkness seemed to take a perverse interest in turning people against themselves. Rumplestiltskin took in the Darkness to save his son, and in the end it just led to Bae's suffering. The circumstances under which Belle took in the Darkness were different. He had absorbed the Darkness because he needed the power to fix things. In taking in the Darkness, Belle had already fixed things. She didn't need to wield the power at all, and he hoped she understood that.

He couldn’t bring himself to go home after the heroes left his shop. Everything about his house reminded him of Belle: her drinking orange juice in the kitchen, her sleeping on the couch with a book lying open over her chest (she always hated falling asleep that way because she said it ruined the spines, but he promised to repair any damage caused by her spontaneous napping), her pruning roses in their garden, her singing “Swinging on a Star” loudly in the shower, her cuddled up in the silk sheets of their bed.

No, he couldn’t go home.

Instead, he stayed at the shop trying to make sense of the inventory and her bizarre system for organizing his things. He started to move stuff back to the way he liked it, to the way he used to have it. He was placing a Storybrooke snow globe back on a top shelf behind the counter when it hit him.

This weirdly organized shop might be all there is left to the old Belle, and he intended to cherish it.

He tried to put things back to the way she had them, but in his hastiness he couldn’t remember where they had been, so instead he just left a heap of sprawled junk on his floor and sat down with his head in his hands crying. He poured himself a scotch to try to numb his worries. Then, he poured another scotch. And then, he found it was far more efficient to just drink straight from the bottle.

By now, it was well after two in the morning, so Rumplestiltskin lay down on the cot in the back of the shop and stared at the ceiling. His leg ached, and his throat burned, but his eyelids still hung heavy trying to claim sleep for the first time in a very long time. Scotch was good for numbing his pain and making him drowsy.

He tried to stay awake. He pulled at his eyelids. Somewhere, out there, Belle was also staying awake. He hoped that if he could force himself not to sleep, it would ease her suffering, yet he knew that wasn’t how it worked.

Either way it wouldn’t work.

The room appeared to sway, and he let out a deep breath. His body eventually betrayed him, and, despite his best efforts, he fell into a disturbed sleep, tossing and turning in and out of nightmares.

The bell to Gold’s shop rang causing him to groan softly as the noise pierced his skull and echoed like a rubber band. He frowned.

Did I really forget to lock up after they left yesterday? Someone could have walked right in and stolen something, not that there’s anything of worth here anymore.

“Gold, are you in here?” called the sheriff.

He rubbed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair sitting up. He made a grunting sound, so she would know he was alive.

Emma came into the back of the shop and stopped short when she saw him moving slowly on the cot. She turned on the lights, and he raised a hand in a hopeless attempt to shield himself from the glaring light beating into his eyes.

“Oh, you look like crap.”

“Why, thank you very much, dearie.“ He yawned. “What time is it?”

“11:30,“ Emma said, checking her watch.

11:30? In the morning? Did I really sleep 8 hours?

“Did you go home last night?” Emma asked, looking around in disgust at the mess that was the backroom of the shop.

Last night, apparently, he had, angrily or drunkenly he wasn’t sure which, knocked over a shelf, and broken knickknacks were strewn across the floor.

“No,” croaked Rumple hoarsely. He rubbed his hand over his stubbled jaw.

Emma eyed him suspiciously.

“Are you hungover?”

“What? Of course not.”

“Riiiiight,” said Emma doubtfully, toeing two discarded whiskey bottles on the floor. “Go home, Gold. Get something to eat and clean up. The Apprentice says he has something that might help us reach Belle.”

At that, he perked up. Wide-eyed, Rumple stood up a bit unsteadily, and Emma passed him his cane which was lying on the floor across the room.

“Meet me back here in an hour, so we can actually get something productive done today,” Emma added, rolling her eyes.

Still out of sorts, Rumple walked out of the shop and to his car, leaving Emma inside his trashed shop. He guessed Emma was judging him, but he didn’t care. He was more disappointed to see his favorite suit completely wrinkled and even a long scotch stain on the tie.

At home he had coffee, a sandwich, and an aspirin and took a cold shower. Though, he felt as if he were walking through someone else’s house. It was ghostly without Belle. Silence descended upon him, and he couldn’t help the feeling that the house had been alive in her presence, and her absence had killed it. It was the same feeling as when he regrettably turned her away from the Dark Castle so many years ago, but the pain burned worse for all the wonderful memories he had of her in this house.

Feeling about 100 years fresher, he returned to the shop.

Emma was there along with Hook, Regina, Snow White, Charming, and the Apprentice. It seemed his shop would be the new hub for heroes. As if they didn’t already spend an inordinate amount of time there, picking through his things and demanding deals.

When he walked in, Emma was whispering quietly with Hook, but once she saw him enter, she patted Hook’s arm and kissed his cheek, and walked up to Rumple.

“Hey, so, Mary Margaret and David are in the back looking for information we could use to reach Belle. Maybe you could help them out?”

She didn’t ask him about sleeping in his shop or being hungover or his shop being a complete train wreck, and he was grateful for it.

Rumple nodded and followed Emma to the back room.

The shop was surprisingly neater than he last left it. The Charmings were revoltingly sweet and loving, kissing each other and bumping noses and generally annoying him as they poked through his things. Rumple quietly sorted through drawers and boxes beside them.

On the other end of the room, Hook, Emma, and Regina were conversing with the Apprentice who sat on the freshly-made cot.

Rumple pretended to be focused on his job, but it was difficult not to eavesdrop on their conversation which was far more interesting than Charming dribble.

“Can you take us to Belle?” asked Hook. He was leaning against an expensive antique grandfather clock.

“I’m afraid not,” replied the Apprentice, bowing his head. “I lost much of my magic after being trapped in the hat.” 

“Then what use are you?” snapped Rumple.

“Rumple, please, you’re hardly in a position to cast stones right now,” Regina said, raising a hand to silence him. “Maybe let us do the talking?”

Rumple grumbled, returning to his task, shoving a box back on the shelf.

“I can give you this,” said the Apprentice. He pulled out an ornate oak wand with green netting.

Rumple inclined his head to get a better look at the magic wand. In his distraction, he went to set a book down on the shelf above him, missed, and it landed hard on his right foot. He swore and jerked back his foot, earning a disapproving look from Charming.

“It is a gift from the Sorcerer, from Merlin,” the Apprentice continued, ignoring the commotion on the other side of the room. “On the day I became his apprentice. In it is all the light magic.”

The wand sparked dimly as he turned it over in his hand.

“It can take us to Belle?” asked Snow.

“Not on its own,” replied the Apprentice, passing the wand to Emma who studied it curiously.

Rumple wondered what the wand would feel like in his own hands. He quickly chided himself for thinking such silly thoughts; it would feel like an ordinary piece of wood given he was without magic.

“In order to cross realms, it must be wielded as it was forged: with both sides of the coin, the light and the dark.”

That was an intriguing idea. Most sorcerers committed to one alignment of magic. Committed magic was usually more powerful and easier to control. Light and dark magic together in the wrong hands could be unpredictable at best.

“Uh, Gold?” Emma said, turning to him and offering him the wand.

Rumple wanted to snatch it, but instead he laughed. Me wielding light and dark magic? Don’t be ridiculous.

“Don’t look at me, dearie.“ He shook his head. “I’m powerless, and even if I had magic, Belle removed all the darkness from me. I’m not good or evil anymore. For lack of a better term I’m a blank slate.”

“Okay, well, I guess that’s my cue then,” said Regina, taking the wand from Emma. She lifted the wand high and waved it around in broad circles before flicking it.

Nothing happened.

Rumple chuckled and drew his tongue over his bottom lip. “Guess I’m not the only useless one around here. Apparently my lessons didn’t stick as well as I’d hoped.” He could see Regina getting flustered, and he couldn’t help feeling tickled.

“You do want our help, right?” Emma said to Rumple.

“I know what I’m doing, Rumple,” Regina said.

Evidently not, since we’re still in Storybrooke.

She waved the wand again to no avail.

“Why isn’t it working?” Snow White asked.

“Because Regina’s magic isn’t enough,” Rumple hissed. “We need light and dark magic. Face it, you’ve gone soft.” 

As an outsider, he could clearly see what the others missed. Her face was softer, almost glowing with true love, and an aura of light magic bounced from her sleek black hair onto his dusty floor.

Regina frowned. “You’re awfully haughty for a man who just lost his wife and then all his power,” she said, and Rumple winced. Regina smiled at him. “You want to see 'soft'? I’ll knock that cane right out from under your scrawny legs, and we can see who’s soft,” She raised a fist with magic fire fizzling in it.

Snow White and Prince Charming exchanged a concerned look.

Rumple’s lips twitched into a sly smile. “Aha, words, I have that too. But, that’s all it is, dearie, idle threats. You can put your magic away. We all know you won’t use it to hurt me." Sure enough, she extinguished the flame and folded her arms, scowling at Rumple. “The Evil Queen isn’t here to help us anymore. Your heart’s just as light as mine. I’m afraid you’re just too good, dearie.” He chuckled mirthlessly. "Ironic."

After all the effort he put into turning Regina into a dark sorceress, she still somehow ended up with light magic. He practically made the Evil Queen, and she was no use to him now when he most needed her.

“Well you’ve got any better ideas Rumple, or are you just here to shut down people who are actually trying to save your wife?” Regina snapped back at him.

Rumple glared at her but kept his lips sealed.

Emma appeared to be thinking when she suddenly lit up. “Maybe the Evil Queen can’t help us…but what about the Wicked Witch?”

“No!” said Regina and Rumplestiltskin simultaneously.

“Something they actually agree on? Shocking," said Charming, folding his arms and sighing.

“Absolutely not,” continued Regina. “Not my sister. That witch is more than wicked. She’s deranged.”

“Deranged, psychotic, sadistic, treacherous, heartless,” added Rumple, not so helpfully. His lips twitched down in an uneasy frown, and he quivered. “I’m not dealing with her anymore.” 

More than that, he was terrified to even see Zelena again. He had lost too much through dealing with her, and just the thought of seeing her again made his skin crawl, the painful memories of his imprisonment beating around his brain like a caged hummingbird.

“Are you really so cowardly to deny the chance at saving your wife because of a jilted ex-student?” Hook sneered. “Maybe, you really haven’t changed from the sorry excuse of a man shaking on my deck who wouldn’t fight for his wife.”

Something about Hook calling attention to Rumple’s past cowardice struck a sensitive nerve.

Rumple seethed, his nose flaring, his facial muscles twitching, and his eyes growing wilder.

How dare he compare what happened with Milah then to what is happening now with Belle? Hook is very lucky I don’t have my magic.

“This isn’t just a jilted ex-student, Captain. She killed my son and enslaved me. I’ll not let her anywhere near Belle or the dagger!” he shouted.

The shop fell silent for a few minutes in the face of Rumple's outburst.

“So, don’t let her near Belle or the dagger,” Snow said. “We’ll make her cast the spell and then lock her up again.”

Rumple still wasn’t convinced. It might be easy for the heroes to excuse Zelena as a threat, as they were often handed their happy endings on a silver platter, but Rumple had no such luxuries. He didn’t like to leave anything up to chance, and Zelena posed a giant risk.

“Belle sacrificed her life to save you,” said Emma gently.

“Don’t you think I know that?” snapped Rumple. He hadn’t meant to lose his patience, but it was gone now, and he’d lost hope of finding it again.

Emma continued steadily, “She’s a hero. For the life of me, I don’t know why, but she believed you could be one too. Now you need to step up to the plate and prove her right.”

He looked into Emma’s eyes and briefly let her see the fear overwhelming him, but she didn’t budge. There was an undeniable honesty in her eyes. Emma spoke with such confidence and authority it was no surprise that the curse on the town faltered just by her arrival.

Rumple sighed. Of everything he had heard, what Emma said made the most sense. Rumple never wanted to be a hero. He was pretty sure he couldn’t be a hero, but he had to try, for Belle.

Everything Emma had said was true. Belle is a hero. She believed he could be a hero. He had to try to do the brave thing. He couldn’t give up on the fight when it had barely started. He had already learned that an act of cowardice bred cowardliness. He could only hope some semblance of the reverse could be true.

“Fine,” he relented with another sigh, and he noticed Emma seemed surprised by his response. “I’m going to clean up the shop a bit. Go and prepare for an encounter with the Wicked Witch. I’ll meet you at the hospital when you’re ready.“

Emma nodded her agreement, and people began to clear out of the back room. When Emma went to leave, the Apprentice pulled her aside.

“What-" Emma started to say.

“Watch him,” whispered the Apprentice.

“What?”

“Watch him,” repeated the Apprentice, this time pointing a finger at Rumple who was sitting in a chair lazily playing with his cane while he waited for everyone to leave.

“Watch him for what?” hissed Emma.

“Rumplestiltskin was the Dark One for centuries. His return to the man he used to be… will not be easy.”

That was all the Apprentice would say on the matter, and sensing he was being watched, Rumple sheepishly looked away.

After the lot cleared out of his shop, Rumple sat back on the chair with a sigh.

Instead of cleaning the shop like he promised he would, he took advantage of the privacy to take out the dagger. He pulled Belle’s dagger out from the inside lining of  his jacket and began turning it in his hands, wondering if she could even hear him, although he knew the answer was probably no.

“Oh, Belle, what a mess this is,” he whispered. “I wish you were here to tell me what I should do. I’m scared of going to see Zelena after everything she did to me, and without my powers too, but I don’t trust Regina and Emma enough to let them go without me. I keep thinking what would you do, but I’m honestly not sure how you would deal with all these issues either. I miss you.”

A teardrop ran down his cheek and onto the dagger. He pulled out a pocket handkerchief and polished the blade.

The bell on the entrance of the shop jingled, and he quickly wiped his face, stuffed the handkerchief into his pocket, and slipped the dagger back in his jacket away from prying eyes. He stood up shakily to greet the customer.

“Rumplestiltskin.” 

“That’s funny. I don’t remember calling for the Blue Mosquito,” he groused. He pretended to be busy cleaning the shop.

“I don’t appreciate your tone,” said the Blue Fairy. “I came here to help.”

“'Help’ from the woman who sent my son to a different realm away from me? Hm, no thanks,” Rumple replied, turning his back on her as he absently sorted through files. He glanced over his shoulder long enough to see that she disagreed with him but would not let him bait her into arguing or leaving.

“I know of your mission to save Belle.“

Rumple stopped what he was doing  to face her.

“Yes, which means I don’t have time to deal with pesky fairies.” 

“I want to help Belle also,” she said, and she took a step closer. “Here.”

The Blue Fairy used her magic to summon a beautiful sparkling red rose in a bell jar.

Rumple’s eyes felt drawn to the rose; it was lively and delicate and oozed a powerful enchanting magic. The stem was a thick vibrant green, and the rapturous rose was bursting with color with petals upon beautiful rosy petals overlapping. It was literally breathtaking. The magic that emanated from the rose was intoxicating in itself, and he couldn’t take his eyes off of it.

“A rose. And, what am I supposed to do with that?” he said sarcastically to hide the fact he was obsessed with this stunning magic-imbued rose.

“The rose is now linked to your Belle, Rumplestiltskin. As long as there are red petals left in bloom, her heart still has color as well. The red petals are her pure goodness and proof she can still be saved.”

Rumple took the bell jar gently from Blue and held it to his face in awe. He watched as a single red petal on the outskirts slowly turned jet black.

“Wonderful,” he grumbled. “So, what’s the price for this then?” 

“None. Fairy magic doesn’t require a price for an act of charity.” Blue smiled patronizingly, and Rumple groaned under his breath. She nodded curtly and turned to leave, but he reached out a hand to stop her.

 “Wait….thank you for this. It means a lot to me.”

“Of course.” 

“No, I mean it. I know I put a lot of strain on the nuns during the curse because of my… lingering resentment. That wasn’t fair and… I’m sorry. I am trying to change, really,” he said, lifting up his hands plaintively. He wasn’t sure she believed him. He could hardly blame her. Sometimes he wasn’t so sure of himself either.

Blue nodded with a polite smile and turned to leave.

After she left, Rumple smiled sadly at the red rose with the one black petal. His fingers brushed over the fine glass tracing the distinctions between the delicate petals.

“Don’t worry, Belle. I will soon find you, and this will all be over,” he whispered. His warm breath fogged up the glass, and he used his suit sleeve to clean it carefully.

The bell to the door rang again.

My, I’m certainly popular today.

“Shady Gramps are you in here?” Henry called from the entrance.

Rumple hobbled out from the back of the shop, his cane in one hand and bell jar in the other. He set the rose on the countertop.

“Please tell me you don’t call me that in front of the others,” he complained, and he hooked his cane onto the edge of the counter. Placing his hands on the counter, he leaned forward to steady himself.

“How else should I differentiate you from Prince Charming?” 

“Is it really that difficult?” Rumple said, raising an eyebrow, and Henry laughed.

Henry’s attention was drawn to the peculiar rose.

“What’s that?” 

Rumple drummed his finger along the glass casing. “A magical rose that shows how much of Belle’s goodness is left. The Blue Fairy gave it to me,“ Rumple said sadly looking at the darkening petals on the outskirts of the rose.

“Oh.” 

“Was there something you needed my boy?” Rumplestiltskin said, shaking his head of the entrancing enchantment and turning to face his grandson with a tight smile.

“Not really. I guess I just wanted to ask... Why did you do it? Write all the heroes in the story to be miserable so you could be happy.”

Rumple sighed and thought about it long and hard, furrowing his eyebrows and wringing out his hands. The moment the darkness left his body he was filled with an uneasy guilt. He knew he would eventually be expected to account for his actions. He had planned to disregard the heroes with a simple jibe. But with Henry, duplicity was far more challenging. The way Henry looked up at him expectantly made him want to tell the truth.

Finally, Rumplestiltskin cleared his throat and spoke in a quiet voice as honestly as he could.

“It’s…difficult to put into words,” he said gazing absently over Henry’s head to the shop’s door. “I guess it seemed like the right thing to do at the time. I was dying, and I thought the only way I could ever be happy was by breaking the rules, by taking my happiness at the expense of others.“

He looked back to see Henry’s face still full of confusion. His excuses fell flat: frivolous and unreasonable. How could he ever expect such an innocent boy like Henry to understand the complexity of dark corruption?

“I didn’t believe I could ever deserve it otherwise. The darkness…feeds on your desperation.” He inhaled sharply.  “I guess I was so used to living in a world where everyone can’t win, and I didn’t want to be the one to lose anymore, “ he whispered slowly and shook his head. He turned to meet Henry’s eyes finally. “It seems obviously wrong now, but… the darkness distorts things. It …makes it hard to see things clearly. It pulls at you and makes you think up is down and right is wrong. It makes you think you’re doing the right thing, even if you should know it’s wrong.”

That was the bottom of it. However Henry might condemn him for it, he felt strangely light, unloading the weight of the truth onto someone else for once.

“Oh.”

Rumple sighed. His answer must not have been good enough to elicit such a brief response. At least he had tried to be sincere, though. Rumple followed Henry’s gaze to the ebony petal that was dyeing slightly onto the rosy one beside it.

After a few minutes of silence with both men in deep thought captivated by the magical rose, Henry finally spoke again slowly.

“If we do find Belle… how are you going to save her?”

That was the million dollar question, wasn’t it? Ever since he lost her Rumple was so preoccupied with finding her he hadn’t the faintest idea what he would do when he found her.

“I’m…not sure.”

“Don’t worry.” Henry said looking up from the flower finally and smiling at Rumple. “I’m sure you’ll think of something. Good wins. Good always wins.”

Rumplestiltskin didn’t say that that was the very thing that worried him.

Chapter 5: Finding Your Voice

Summary:

Belle is faced with her first test as the new Dark One.

Belle walked through the Enchanted Forest with the Dark One muttering in tow.

She had found that, despite the striking physical resemblance, the Dark One was quite different from the cursed Rumplestiltskin she had known in the Enchanted Forest. She supposed it came down to one simple thing: humanity. Despite his many, many layers, her Rumplestiltskin always had a glimpse of real human emotion: fear, anger, humor, love. Uncovering it was the mystery, the adventure for which she had fallen head over heels.

The more time she spent with “the Dark One” the more she doubted he truly harbored any humanity at all. Of course, he was a master of expressing and interpreting emotion, but something was off, different from the Rumplestiltskin she loved. Each smirk, each frown, each wink or snarl felt perfectly calculated yet somehow shallow to Belle. That he looked so similar to Rumplestiltskin while being incredibly different made it all the worse.

She missed her Rumplestiltskin.

The Dark One didn’t even seem to mind her assessments, rather he just kept jabbering away making it difficult for Belle to focus.

He never shuts up.

Sometimes he would pester her with questions she couldn’t answer like, “where do you think you’re going” and “what do you plan to do when you get there?” and “what is the point of all this mindless trudging about?”

Other times he’d recite dark spells.

Belle told him she didn’t want to know any of his dark magic, but he’d say he was simply throwing them out there in case she might need it.

It wasn’t as if she could silence him anyway.

She spent most of her time trying to drown him out and focus on better things: a bluebird taking flight, the feel of her heeled boots squishing in the mud, the spicy scent of a nearby pine tree. Her distractions rarely worked though.

He was just so encompassing. All around her was Darkness, and at the center was this flouncing figurehead. He made her feel crazy and alone.

If all else failed, he always succeeded in irking Belle with his endless idioms. He’d sing them in a lighthearted verse, practically skipping to the beat and usually repeating them in strands of threes.

“You feed the madness, and it feeds on you. You feed the madness, and it feeds on you. You feed the madness, and it feeds on you.”

“All magic comes with a price. All magic comes with a price. All magic comes with a price.”

“All the voices in my head will be quiet when I’m dead. All the voices in my head will be quiet when I’m dead. All the voices in my head will be quiet when I’m dead.”

“Desperate souls make deadly deals. Desperate souls make deadly deals. Desperate souls make deadly deals.”

On and on and on and on went the riddled verses with the only break being the occasional insane cackle. It might have been amusing, if it were once or twice, but the Dark One apparently didn’t have an “off” switch, and Belle could feel herself running out of energy. It took all of Belle’s willpower to keep her mouth clenched shut and her feet propelling her further into the thick forest, though she had no idea where she was going.

The sun was beginning to set, and she was desperate to find another sign of humanity in this wretched forest.

She feared she would be lost in the shrubbery forever, doomed to listen to the Dark One’s incessant chatter. She couldn’t imagine spending an entire night trekking with him, let alone a lifetime. He seemed to only be inspired by the darkening sky and quieting wildlife.

Times like these made her question what his aim was with all these silly games. Perhaps if she could understand him, she could better defend herself against his nuisances. Whatever his intention, it was likely so evil she probably shouldn’t know anyway, she thought, shaking her head. Not that he would indulge her enough to tell her. Knowledge could be a powerful weapon, she knew. He likely wouldn’t let her wield it readily.

Finally, she saw the figure of a man leaning against a stout tree and drinking from a flask. His wares sat beside him in a short wooden cart.

She squinted, suspecting her eyes might be deceiving her, but then she blinked twice, and the figure didn’t disappear.

Instead, his shape became more distinct against the forest shrubbery as he tucked his flask away and bent over to tighten cords on the cart. Shadows from the tree beside him made it difficult to discern his expression, but it was clear he was a man.

An actual person!

“Ooh, this should be good!” muttered the Dark One beside her, licking his lips and rubbing his hands together. His eyes lit up hungrily.

“No,” ordered Belle firmly. “You stay here. I’ll handle this.” He stuck his tongue out at her but obeyed reluctantly. With a mocking bow, he disappeared in a dark cloud.

She dashed to catch up to the man, excited at the prospect of talking to someone not in her head.

“Excuse me!” Belle called.

As she got closer, she could see him much clearer now. He was tall and chubby with short greasy hair and an uneven beard the color of pecans. He smelled of cheap alcohol and beech. His eyes were watery but not in the way of someone who might cry.

He had looked a bit friendlier from a distance, but regardless she was still elated to see someone human. If nothing else, she felt more real just by the way he acknowledged her presence. He seemed surprised but not unhappy to see her. She smiled warmly at him to which he raised a thick eyebrow. She wondered if he had been waiting for someone else. It seemed strange for someone to be traveling alone so deep in the forest, but she supposed she was in no position to judge.

“I’m trying to find the sorcerer Merlin.” Belle said, and she saw the man’s nose twitch. Good, he recognized the name. Perhaps he can help me. “Could you please point me in the direction of Camelot?”

He seemed to consider her question thoughtfully before he spoke. “Sure, I could…” said the man, and he smiled slimily, standing up straighter. At his full height, he was a foot taller than her and twice as wide.  “…for two pieces of silver.” 

“You could snap his neck right now. He doesn’t deserve money for a courtesy,” offered the Dark One, magically appearing beside her; he regarded the oaf with amused distaste.

“I thought I told you to stay back there,” Belle muttered, frowning at him. 

“What’d you say?” said the man. He glanced unseeingly at the the ground where the Dark One stood. 

“Oh, um, nothing,” Belle said, and the Dark One raised his eyebrows at her and then disappeared. Belle dug into the pockets of her cloak and hospital gown. They were empty aside from a button, a few pins, string, and some lint. “Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t have any money on me." She showed her empty hands with a helpless shrug.

“Well, do you have anything else you can offer me?” asked the man in a husky voice.

Belle waited for him to explain what he meant.  He was taking large rapid breaths and leering darkly at her chest. A fat slimy tongue roamed over his upper lip, and he waggled a bushy eyebrow lasciviously. She could almost taste the cheap ale as it wafted from his breath.

Belle seriously hoped she was misunderstanding him. All she needed was directions to Camelot. Was that really asking too much?

“I’m not for sale, if that’s what you’re asking,” Belle said, folding her arms over her chest, partly out of annoyance and partly for modesty’s sake. She stuck her chin out stubbornly and suddenly wished she could be a few inches taller, so he couldn't look down at her so. She wished she weren’t so alone in this woodland.

“If you can’t pay me or put out, then I guess you’re shit out of luck." He shrugged and turned his attention back to his cart. 

“Why, you crooked, vile man!” gasped Belle, offended. Her face flushed, and she straightened as much as she could to force him to look into her eyes. “You should watch your tongue,” she scolded, shaking her fist at him.

No sooner had she said the words, did the man spun around with a gasp of his own. He started gagging and grabbing for his mouth.

Belle was so shocked she didn’t react at first. Then, she took a concerned step towards him. “Are you alright?” Belle asked, reaching to give him a hand, but instead he staggered and took a step back still gagging.

He made a loud moaning sound that made Belle recoil. His face twisted in worry that, she was quite sure, was echoed on her own face. There would be no healers in miles to help him, if he were having a medical emergency.

He reached up a trembling hand and pointed at her as he squawked and choked. Belle looked over her shoulder carefully, wondering If someone was choking him with magic from behind her, but no one was there. 

“Oh, he can’t answer. Cat got his tongue,” joked the Dark One appearing beside her once again, looking most amused.

“What are you doing here?” Belle said severely. For a brief moment, when she started talking to the man, she thought she might have shaken the Dark One off for good. Apparently, that was too much to hope for. He did have good timing for when he was least wanted, amidst terrible chaos.

“I’m just here to help,” he smiled, and Belle’s heart began to race at the sudden chaotic urgency of the situation. Everything she had learned about him so far told her he was never there to help. There was always something more with him. “And, I’m here to congratulate you, of course.” He patted her back gently.

Belle took her eyes off the whimpering man to search the Dark One’s face. He didn’t reveal much. “

Well done, dearie! I should say you’ve seen that done before! I always knew you were a quick study,” he enthused. Somehow his praise made her feel more ashamed than proud.

“You’re saying I’m doing this to him?” That couldn’t be right. The man was hunched over with his hands on his knees making soft choking noises while his eyes bugged out.

She looked between the man and the Dark One. Everything was happening so quickly, and she didn’t understand any of it.

“Of course, you are!” chirped the Dark One.

“But I’m not even doing anything. And, I didn’t even think about magic.” Truthfully, she had been actively avoiding thinking about magic at all.

“You’re doing everything. And, dark magic isn’t powered by thinking about spells." He gestured to the now kneeling man who was still gagging and choking and desperately pulling at his mouth. “It’s driven by the desire to inflict pain and suffering onto others.”

The man’s eyes watered and with his mouth hanging agape like that, Belle realized his teeth and gums were intact, but there was something missing. His mouth was a large hollow cavern hanging open without a tongue. Belle shuddered at the unnatural sight.

The Dark One opened his hand slowly to reveal a slimy wiggling tongue hopping in his palm like a fish out of water.

“Stop that! Give it back!” yelled Belle. She wanted to charge at him, but she felt rooted to the ground, so she could only wave her arm at him in a frantic attempt to convince him to return the man’s tongue.

The Dark One laughed. “I’m not holding it, dearie, you are!” 

Belle looked down to see her other hand, trembling and still in a fist. She realized there was something warm and slimy squirming in her hand. It licked all around her palm, twisting and turning and begging for freedom. Belle gasped in shock and horror as she slowly opened her hand to see a live tongue rolling around. She took a step back and shrieked, dropping the tongue to the ground.

The tongue rolled and hopped around in the mud, while the peddler tried to catch it and put it back in his mouth.

The Dark One erupted in evil giggles at the man’s strife.

Every time the man came close to catching his tongue, it flip-flopped out of the way and into a ditch. He was sweating with terror, and he let out a pained groan each time the tongue hopped away with a wet slap to his wrist.

It was perhaps the most miserable game of “catch” Belle had ever seen.

The tongue seemed to have a mind of its own. Not content with being locked up, it jiggled and jumped over soil and under tree roots.

Belle loathed the idea of using dark magic, but she could think of no other solution. Panicked, she waved her hand and used her magic to poof the dirty tongue back where it belonged. Belle’s lip pulled back in disgust at the thought of having such an unsanitary organ back in his mouth, but the man seemed more or less relieved.

He put a hand to his mouth, rolling his tongue around a few times. He wiped his mouth and gasped. He pointed a stubby finger at her a few times, before he finally regained full control of the tongue. “Crazy whore!” he yelled, but when she glared up at him, he was practically out of sight, abandoning his goods and disappearing into the shadowy forest.

Belle didn’t chase after him, but she wiped her hands on her cloak and sighed.

“That wasn’t funny,” Belle said, turning to the Dark One, who was still keeled over in laughter.

“No, that was hilarious!” he said through his giggles.

Belle glared at him. She wanted to yell at him, but she knew it would do no good and would probably only excite him, so she took a deep breath and moved on. After a few minutes, he stopped her once again. He didn’t say anything, but his expression was triumphant. His greenish gold skin practically sparkled in the dying embers of the setting sun. He gave her a patient but expectant look.

“What?” she huffed, finally realizing it was futile to keep walking away, and it was better to just let him get his cruel thoughts out in the open.

“Did you enjoy it, dearie?” he asked in a dark tone that made Belle shiver. Belle narrowed her eyes. She didn’t understand what he was getting at. When she didn’t answer, he clarified. “Your first taste of darkness.”

Belle avoided the question but shook her head. “That wasn’t my first taste of darkness. I was once cursed to be Lacey.”

She felt a chill in her spine remembering how Lacey delighted in others’ suffering. Coming out of that curse had been startling for both her and Rumple.

The Dark One rolled his  eyes at her.

“Binge drinking and watching your boyfriend bully people is hardly as thrilling as ripping out a tongue yourself,” the Dark One said, imitating the movement of the spell with his arm. All traces of his earlier humor were curbed, and his voice became much lower, a bloodthirsty growl. “Besides you were cursed then, you didn’t have control, you didn’t have a choice. Now you do. You chose to make that man pay for how he treated you, and I have a feeling there are a lot more on your list who deserve to suffer for how they’ve wronged you.”

Chapter 6: Wickedness and Fear

Summary:

The Storybrooke Squad confront Zelena and appeal to her for help rescuing Belle.

Rumplestiltskin stood outside the thick walls of Storybrooke Hospital, the cool Maine breeze slapping his hair against his face. He leaned on his cane with one hand and stuck the other deep into his pants pocket tilting his head to get a full view of the daunting building.

Storybrooke Hospital was much smaller than the New York hospital he had stayed in; it was only three floors, if you didn’t count the probably illegal asylum prison in the basement. Despite its small size, this hospital, with its cement walls and fluorescent lighting, was still formidable enough to put the Dark Castle to shame. He considered why he went through the effort of skinning people alive, when he could’ve just cooped them up in this torturous hell.

Emma came up beside him, startling him from his thoughts and causing him to jump slightly. She didn’t seem to notice.

“Storybrooke Hospital. It’s pretty impressive, isn’t it?” she said, admiring the building.

“I’ve seen better. Are you ready to go? I don’t want to waste any more time here than I have to.”

Emma nodded and gave him a look but said nothing.

He appreciated the savior’s ability to say just enough and nothing more. It was a skill most people lacked.

They entered the hospital, Regina and Robin in the lead, then Emma, then Rumple stumbling behind.

The doors slid automatically open for them, and when the cool hospital air brushed his skin, he felt his chest tighten. The last time he had been in a hospital was when he was treated for his “heart attack” in New York. That brought back unpleasant memories. He never thought he’d be back in a hospital, let alone so soon, but if this was the price to save Belle, he’d pay it five times over.

As they walked through the halls, they attracted quite a few stares; three of the most influential people in the city walking together were a commanding presence. The Savior, the Queen, and the former Dark One don’t normally take strolls through hospitals. He was unperturbed by wary and cowed glances, and he could tell Regina was also unbothered, holding her head up and striding purposefully past onlookers. Emma and Robin, on the other hand, hesitated, likely wondering why people looked so concerned. Rumple shrugged. He would’ve been frightened too. Power follows evil, and evil craves power, and the Chernabog would have a field day with this group.

“Since I dragged her pregnant ass out of New York, I’ve been keeping her in the asylum,” said Regina, turning her head to address him as he struggled to keep up with the quick-paced mayor.

Rumple swallowed hard. He had never seen the prison that Belle had been incarcerated in for 28 years. Would it be cold or dark or lonely? He found it bitterly ironic that hospitals are supposed to be beacons of healing and life, but to him and Belle they would always be prisons of isolation and suffering.

On the first right turn, he caught up to the group in time to hear Regina talking to him again.

“Which you would’ve known, by the way, if you hadn’t tried to destroy everyone’s happy endings.” 

Rumple thought about trying to defend himself and explain that he really only insisted Isaac write his happy ending with Belle, and the rest (aside from an amusing tale about a one-handed deckhand who drinks sheep’s milk) was Isaac and Zelena’s influence, but he figured it was no use. Instead, he deflected with the  only weapon left in his arsenal.

“Not everyone’s, dearie, just you and the hero types. I gave the villains a nice ending. What kind of monster do you take me for?” He scoffed.

He expected Regina to full throttle him at this point, but she actually laughed coldly, and Emma just rolled her eyes.

“Of course not, you’re a perfect gentleman,” said Robin Hood sarcastically as they turned down another corridor.

“Thank you, dearie. See, the thief understands me.” 

“Thief with honor,” Robin corrected. “Something you clearly don’t understand.”

Rumple ignored Robin. He liked to think of himself as pragmatic, not dishonorable. He lived long enough to recognize that desperation knows no honor, and in trying times people will always do what is necessary first. “Honor” seemed frivolous when children were massacred by ogres.

Rumple had hoped to see Regina punching in the code to the asylum door, so he could sneak in later if he needed, but by the time he reached the heavy door, it was open, and Regina and Robin were halfway down the stairs.

Emma stayed back to hold the door for Rumple as he slowly made his way down the stairs.

Right.

He forgot how difficult stairs could be to maneuver without magic. He braced his hand against the wall and put his cane on the top step.

”Thank you, sheriff,” he said politely to which she nodded.

When he got to the front desk of the asylum, his heart sank. It was just as dismal and unwelcoming as Belle had described.

She rarely spoke a word about her imprisonment since getting her real memories back, mostly she just had a vacant stare when he tried to ask her about it. She probably was afraid he’d try to summon another wraith or something, if he heard the gruesome details of her suffering. He might’ve. She always knew him better than he knew himself.

He no longer had the power to summon a wraith to express his anger or resentment. All he had were the demons inside of him flourishing in this pain.

The fluorescent lights bore down on his soul, and the plain concrete walls felt suffocating. He brushed his left hand over the cool thick prison walls, imagining Belle living here for 28 years, and bile rose up in his throat. Did she get any visitors here? Did she talk to herself, or did she just stir in the silence hoping he would save her?

How many prisons has Belle been forced to endure because of me? That’s all this Dark One Curse is: another prison, her comeuppance for loving a monster.

“Are you coming, Gold?” Emma asked.

Rumplestiltskin jumped, and he realized he had been lost in his terrible thoughts, not moving.

She had passed him on the stairs and was now waiting in front of him looking concerned.

He nodded quickly, swallowing the lump in his throat, and scrambled to catch up with the group.

As he walked down the hall, he wondered which one of these hell holes had housed Belle. He probably could’ve asked Regina, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. There was nothing in these cells that could give him peace over what had happened. He had enough wounds without ripping open the ones that were starting to heal.

Thankfully, Regina and Robin had waited for him to open the cell door. Robin was whispering something into her ear, and she nodded slowly.

Rumple, looking from them to Emma, realized that they weren’t confident this was a good idea either, but with no other leads, this might be their only chance of saving Belle.

Regina hesitated and exchanged a look with Emma before looking at Rumple.

“What are you waiting for?” he said. They had dragged him out of his shop and across town for this, and they’d better deliver now.

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” asked Regina.

He turned to see a hint of apprehension in Robin, Regina, and Emma’s eyes.

He stomped his cane against the floor.

“Yes! Open the door. Let’s get this over, before I change my mind."

The silence that followed was deafening.

Regina nodded and unlocked the heavy door, revealing the Wicked Witch meditating on a bench. She was sitting cross-legged with her hands on her knees breathing calmly and wearing yoga pants and a maternity shirt. Her face and red hair shined with the incoming light from the prison window giving her the appearance of a succubus, and she had just the kind of smug expression on her face you’d expect from her.

You have got to be kidding me, Rumple thought.

Regina was the first to enter, her high heels clacking and echoing off the walls.

At the sounds of people, Zelena groaned, but kept her eyes closed and scrunched her face in an effort to maintain her Zen. “Look, I’m trying to meditate. You can bring my lunch back later. Right now, I need—" her words stopped abruptly when she opened her eyes to see Regina, Robin, Emma, and Rumple at the threshold to her room. Her eyes widened with surprise, but that surprise quickly turned to a joy that set his nerves on fire.

He went to speak up first, but he felt that burning tightness in his chest as his heart started racing, and he began sweating uncontrollably.

Is the room getting smaller?

He tried to breathe, but his throat was tight too.

Am I dying?

His stomach was lead, and he had the eerie feeling he had become a part of the surrounding concrete walls. His legs shook, and he was just about to double over when he felt the warm firm hand of the savior on his shoulder keeping him connected to the world. He felt sturdier, and his resolve strengthened as he shifted his footing. He turned around, and she gave him a solemn knowing look before withdrawing her hand. Wiping the sweat off his face, he turned to regard Zelena coldly.

Zelena stood, clasping her hands together and smiling. Her voice was just as penetratingly harmonic as he remembered. “They say, if you love something let it go, and if it comes back it loves you forever,” she said in a sing-song voice, taking a step closer to them. “I must be proof of that because I have both my handsome boys right in front of me!” Zelena squealed, addressing Robin and Rumple and cupping their cheeks.

She smelled like green apples and dark magic: overwhelmingly sour with a tinge of sweet.

Rumple’s hand trembled over the cane, and he wished to be anywhere else. Faintly, he heard a strange dull beeping.

Regina’s hand in Robin’s tightened, and with her other hand, she swatted Zelena’s hand away.

Rumple flinched and stepped backwards, edging closer to the corner of the prison, also freeing himself from Zelena’s grip.

“Let it go?” raged Rumple. “You enslaved me! Regina had to knock the dagger out of your chubby fingers.”

Losing control of his accent seemed to amuse Zelena, which only made Rumple angrier.

“Chubby?” Zelena mocked examining her manicured fingers. “I’ll have you know that was the healthiest time of my life. Being wicked does do wonders for a woman’s figure.” She massaged her stomach and her hips, sighing melodramatically. “Now I have to deal with this awful pregnancy belly and bloating, but it’s all worth it for my little one,” she said, tapping her stomach gently and smiling.

The air in the room felt dangerous.

Beep, beep, beep.

“You’re looking well, Rumple.”

A bead of sweat running down from his temple found a place in his hair.

“Actually, no, you’re not; I lied,” she said in a snotty voice. “How is Mrs. Dark One by the way?”

Rumple could feel light cotton rubbing against his skin.

“I killed her.”

He felt a stabbing pain in his chest, and he ran his hand over the pants of his sore leg. He looked at the others with confusion and disbelief.

Why aren’t they doing anything? Didn’t they just hear that? She admitted to killing Belle!

“You know?” said Regina, her voice lifting between shock and contempt.

“Oh, yes,"  Zelena said with a sharp smile.

“It was me all along, and, you know, no one’s been the wiser”

“Besides Rumple’s unfortunate pallor complexion…”

“Or should I say the deathly pale one?”

Something smelt strangely of antibacterial soap.

Beep, beep, beep.

“…the fellow with the mop is a terrible gossip.”  She looked up with a smirk. “So, tell me how your wife stole your magic and ran away from you.”

“She’s as dead as, well, as your son.”

Rumple grunted. The beeping was getting faster.

“That’s not what happened,” he rasped. His blood boiled, and his grip on the cane tightened, his thin tendons sticking out further.

“Hey,” said Emma, eyeing Rumple. “Don’t let her get to you.”

“We need your help,” Robin said to Zelena, reluctantly taking over while Rumple attempted to compose himself.

“The heroes come to me for help? Ooh you must be really desperate,” laughed Zelena.

“Why, your predicament does look painful.”

The room was no longer closing in on them, but it was spinning violently.

Beep, beep, beep, beep.

“Of course, we are,” said Rumple as he tried to shut out all the noise. “Belle is in danger every minute we’re here dealing with your sorry excuse of an existence.”

He took a step forward and pointed a finger at her.

“And, so, tell me what is it you want then?” Zelena said, growing impatient. “I don’t have all day: yoga for the next 20 minutes, and then lunch and some sweet lullabies for my precious baby,” she cooed and caressed her stomach, batting her eyes at Regina.

“That means you never avenged his death, that you failed. Oops.”

Rumple felt soft hair on his face. Green apples and dark magic. His heart raced.

Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep.

“I’m going to kill her,” barked Regina.

“Not if I do it first,” growled Rumple. He stamped his cane against the hard floor and bared his teeth.

“You can’t kill me, either of you.” Zelena rolled her eyes. She stared right at him, and that chest pain flared once again.

“You’d also have to stop trying to kill me, of course.”

“Hey, hey,” said Emma. “No one’s killing anyone.”

The beeping slowed back to a steady rhythm, and the spinning room came to a crashing halt, causing Rumple to grab the wall to steady himself.

He was aware that the others were still talking with Zelena.

“Help us find Belle,” said Robin. “We can rid the world of this darkness once and for all. Don’t you want that, for our child?”

“My child and mine alone,” Zelena hissed, glaring at him. “I’m doing all the work. You were just an unwilling pawn in its creation.” 

“To steal Robin’s heart, to make him fall in love with me, to steal Regina’s fated true love.”

“Quite unwilling,” Robin replied indignantly. He folded his arms.

Regina rubbed a hand over his back comfortingly, while she kept her eyes trained on her sister.

“If it makes you feel better, I didn’t enjoy it,” Zelena said.

“I can’t win his heart.”

“Not like I did playing with my doll.” She mocked and reached forward, closing the distance between her and Rumple before he could react and grabbed his cheek, shaking it and giving it a pinch. Her hand felt cold and wet on his forehead and cheek as she ogled him.

“Shh. Shush, dear. Don’t try to talk.”

He gasped for air. His throat was tight, and something was scratching and tearing at the inside. Something hard and smooth was filling up all the space in his mouth and down his throat. His mouth was clamped shut. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t speak.

Why can’t I speak?

His eyes widened, and he crashed backwards into the cement wall desperately grasping for something to keep him on his feet. Over Zelena’s shrill laughter, he heard the monotone beeping getting louder now. He couldn’t say what was happening, but whatever it was, he wanted it to stop right now.

Emma shoved Zelena's shoulders, pushing her away from Rumple and further back into the room.

“Hey, leave him alone!” Emma growled, and Zelena gasped in mock surprise.

“Something is standing in the way, like a, like a stone wall.”

Zelena took a step back out of Emma’s range and regained her balance. “Now, that’s not nice, Savior! You could’ve hurt my baby,” Zelena said, rubbing her stomach and batting her eyelashes.

“I think that loss could finally be a wound that wouldn’t heal.”

“You know you can still deliver a baby without a tongue,” Regina snapped.

“Enough!” said Emma. She put her body between Zelena and the others. With one hand she gave Zelena a “stop” motion, just daring her to challenge. For once, Zelena didn’t push, she just sneered at them.

Then, Emma took a moment to regard Rumple, helping him stand once again on shaky legs.

He clutched tightly at the gold ornament on his cane, his knuckles blanching as he panted quietly. He pressed the fabric over his heart and panicked when he felt the thin cotton from earlier.

Belle’s dagger wasn’t there.

A strangled yelp came from him as he twisted the fabric in his fingers. He looked down to see the black of his suit jacket and the fine material felt heavier and warmer against his skin. He pushed his index finger deeper into the suit jacket and breathed a huge sigh of relief when he felt the sharp outline of the dagger inside the jacket. It was still there. It had always been there.

Emma watched him suspiciously until he looked up at her.

He gave her a blank stare and shrugged.

Then, Emma turned back to face Zelena and pulled out the Sorcerer’s Wand, showing it to Zelena. “Do you know what this is?”

Zelena ogled the object. “Merlin’s Wand. Ooh, that must be very powerful magic!” She reached for it, but Emma deftly pulled it away.

Zelena’s greedy eyes remained locked on the wand.

“Look at the magic in this world, Rumple. Hmm, a tube that breathes for you.”

“This is a bad idea,” mumbled Rumple, his voice scratchy and weak. He could barely hear it over the incessant beeping. He looked up at the ceiling. It was a simple bright white paint less like a cell and more like a….a… hospital room.

Emma ignored him and continued to talk to Zelena. “The Apprentice told us we could use it to travel between realms. Can you help us?”

“Of course,” Zelena said sweetly.

“Hollow.”

“What?!” Rumple asked, astonished, snapping his head back.

“Pregnancy has changed me, dear.” Zelena smiled.

"What a beautiful echo.”

“Like hell it has!”

Zelena pretended not to hear him. “I’m going to do whatever I can to free the bookworm,” she promised them. Then, she turned to Emma holding out her empty hand. “Just give me the wand.”

“Simply force a happy ending for me.”

Zelena saw Emma’s reluctance as her grip tightened over the wand. “Don’t worry,” said Zelena. “This little love bracelet you put on me neutralizes my magic. I am powerless.” Zelena modeled the black leather cuff on her arm.

“I want my happy ending.”

To Rumple’s disappointment, Emma cautiously handed Zelena the wand. Zelena fingered it, twisting it in her fingers and humming thoughtfully.

“Hmm.” 

“But, what does old Rumple get out of it?”

“Ah, yes, so simple,” Zelena said finally, looking up with a wide smile. “You simply need an object that guides the portal to its destination. Something that belonged to Belle, something meaningful to her.”

“I have a certain potion that fixes hearts.”

“Fine,” said Regina, snatching the wand from Zelena and putting it in her pocket. “That we can do.” She turned to leave.

Zelena’s smile faded.

“No, you can’t,” Zelena countered, stopping Regina in her tracks. “Well, your magic isn’t powerful enough.”

“I don’t know if it could cure this little lump of coal you’ve got in your narrow little chest.“

Regina turned to face her, looking like she might light Zelena on fire, when Emma spoke.

“Can you make it work?” Emma questioned, folding her arms and raising an eyebrow.

“I believe so,” said Zelena, smiling again.

“But it will get you back home.”

“There’s just a teeny something standing in my way.” Zelena lifted her arm presenting the magic dulling cuff again and pouted. Everything had a price, and Zelena’s assistance was no exception. She wanted them to free her from her magical prison.

“Your life for mine.”

“Never!” said Regina, bringing her face close enough to Zelena, so she could see all the muscles in her face express her adamant refusal. Then, she turned away and left the cell with Robin walking after her.

Zelena turned to regard Rumple, who had shrunk to the back corner of the room and was caught somewhere between past and present. She got close enough, so he could really feel her cool breath on his face and whispered, “You’ll help me out won’t you, doll face? You will if you ever want to see your precious Belle again.”

“Do we have a deal?”

Rumple sweated terribly. His heart raced in time to the increasing rate of the beeping monitor. His whole body was trembling violently. The tube in his mouth grew, and something was cutting off the oxygen. He couldn’t breathe and gasped desperately. He couldn’t breathe. Shooting pains went from his chest down his arm. He clutched his heart with one hand and Emma’s arm with the other, dropping the cane to the ground.

It’s happening again. I’m having a heart attack. I’m really going to die. It’s happening again.

He pulled at Emma’s sleeve desperately trying to tell her “heart attack,” but when he opened his mouth no words came out. The beeping got faster and louder until Rumple could just hear one single continuous loud and monotonous tone. His vision went blurry.

He blinked once and crashed to the ground.

Chapter 7: Where There's a Will-o'-the-Wisp

Summary:

Belle clashes with the Dark One as she tries to find Merlin, and she meets another headstrong princess on a mission.

Belle strode through the forest, the Dark One exactly two paces behind her.

The sun rising and the birds chirping indicated that she had been walking all night and had found nothing to guide her path. It was difficult to maintain her resolve trapped in this forest with no one to accompany her but the dark voices in her head, but she kept reminding herself whom she was fighting for: Rumplestiltskin. If she could find Merlin and ask him for help, perhaps they could defeat the darkness forever, and she and Rumplestiltskin could live happily ever after. It was a dreamy thought, distant as it now seemed.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the Dark One clicking his tongue.

“Please just go. I can find my own way,” she said as she stomped tiredly through the forest.

She should be so exhausted that she’d be falling over, but something kept her going despite the dull aching of her body. Perhaps, it was true love.

The Dark One gave her a dubious look, but he didn’t respond to her words or her thoughts.

“That maple tree ahead,” he said gesturing at a healthy young tree on their left. “We’ve passed it three times already.” He smirked and waved three fingers.

Belle stopped.

She looked around the forest realizing he was right: not only was she completely lost, she had been walking in circles. Frustrated, she turned to face him, which only seemed to encourage his mischief.

His grin grew wide and twisting. “Oh, don’t get me wrong, dearie. I do so enjoy forest walks with you. But, I thought you had someplace to be?”

Belle frowned at him. “I need to find Merlin. He’s the only one who can defeat the darkness once and for all.”

She wasn’t sure she should reveal her plans to him, but she had no one else to confide in, and he could probably search her thoughts anyway.

“I can help you, if you let me,” he said, tapping his fingers together artfully. It was tempting.

It always was.

Belle shivered.

Accepting help from the Dark One rarely turned out well. Well, there was that one time… but, no.

She shook her head. She shouldn’t trust him.

“No! No dark magic.” 

“No, of course not,” he cooed.

She was surprised he acquiesced so, but she figured it couldn’t hurt to hear what he had to say. It’s not as if she could stop his jabbering even if she wanted.

“I can tell you everything you need to find Merlin. Ask, and find him you shall.”

Belle pursed her lips and put her hands on her hips as she considered his offer. Should she trust him? The Dark One was by no means her ally, but if he could really help her, as he said he could, did it matter that he had an evil agenda?

What matters is finding Merlin.

Against her better judgment, she nodded slowly and asked, “How do I find Merlin, then?”

“I’m glad you asked.” He flourished his hands with a mischievous glint in his reptilian eyes. “There’s a magical force that can lead you wherever you need to be. Now, If you’ll allow me, I can show you where to find it.”

He tried to guide her back with his hand, but Belle stepped out of the way.

“I don’t know,” Belle said slowly, feeling as if she was about to be swallowed whole by a monster. “Magic…always comes with a price.”  It was often unpredictable. A magical force that would lead her straight to Merlin seemed too good to be true, and, in Belle’s experience, when things were too good to be true, they weren’t. When Belle used magic to save Rumple’s life, the price had been terrible. She wasn’t sure it was a good idea to use magic so soon and for something as trivial as directions.

“True, but that price need not always be so steep,” he offered, tiptoeing closer.

Belle flashed her blue eyes, squinting up at him.

She wondered if he had a tell, and she could read the answer in his amber eyes or in the crinkles on the edge of his thin lips. Would he twitch his nose when he lied? Even after all this time, she found it difficult to spar with the Dark One. She looked him up and down, but his motive was indiscernible with an adept poker smile.

“I don’t suppose you’ll just tell me what it is?” Belle said finally, taking a short step closer for once.

“And what would be the fun in that?” He laughed. He waved her request away and turned his back on her.

Ugh! He was so infuriating. Why must everything be a game with him?

“Right…” Belle said, rolling her eyes as he walked away. “I don’t feel like I have much of a choice here.” 

It was true. The more time she spent with the Dark One, the more she felt like a character in his elaborate play and less like a real person.

He walked behind her, so she couldn’t see him but could feel his dark presence looming over her.

“You always have a choice, dearie.” He whispered it like a threat into her ear, briefly resting his head on her shoulder. He snapped his head back up and grinned as he circled back. “I, for one, would be happy to take another stroll around the forest with you.” He admired the sparse flora blooming around them. “I’m growing quite fond of this little flower,” he said, and he stomped the toe of his boot onto a small blue Forget-Me-Not growing in the mud, squashing and defiling it.

Belle winced as the tiny blue petals were covered in soil, filth, and evil. The remains of the flower clung to the bottom of his shoe as he dragged in back and forth through the dirt.

Belle groaned and threw up her hands, defeated. There was no way she could keep wandering aimlessly with the Dark One. “Ugh, fine. I give up! Tell me how I can find this ‘magical source.’” Before he could celebrate, Belle amended, “but no dark magic,” and raised a finger in warning.

“Excellent!” he said, and he described a scene in melodramatic and animated detail:

“Imagine a mirrored lake. A tall tree with low hanging branches that loom over it.” He opened his arms widely with his fickle grin. “And above, a bee-yoo-tee-fil blue sky.” He leaned in close and said slowly and softly, “now picture it in your mind’s eye. Picture it clearly.”

He waved his hand over her face, and Belle closed her eyes and did as he told her, concentrating on the natural images of the glade.

The lake was picturesque, glistening and rushing rhythmically. The morning sun warmed her cheeks. The trees rustled casting soft shadows with a light breeze, and a robin cawed overhead and…

Belle felt the ground tugged out beneath her. In an instant, she was weightless. Before Belle could ask what had happened, she opened her eyes and turned about herself to see dark blue smoke dissipating.

She and the smug Dark One appeared on the edge of the lake he had described.

Folding his arms behind him, he surveyed the new surroundings thoughtfully.

“Hey! I said no using dark magic,” Belle complained.

“I didn’t, dearie! You did.” He laughed, patting her back. “Congratulations on your first magical transportation,” he applauded mockingly, and Belle winced. “I bet you’re wishing you didn’t waste all night traipsing around that dank forest like a bloody peasant when you could’ve done that ages ago.”

“You tricked me!”

“Well, of course I did. I’m the Dark One. It’s what I do.”

“Leave me alone.” Belle kicked the dirt and stomped away as she dismissed him with her hand.

The Dark One grabbed her shoulder, stopping her and turning her to face him. “Ah, ah. I don’t think you want to do that. Look.” He pointed at a filmy blue kite of energy floating around the trees by the opposite side of the lake.

“The Will-o’-the-Wisp,” Belle breathed.

She recognized it from reading about it in her books. Native to the outskirts of the DunBroch kingdom, the wisps apparently spawn at a magical site called The Hill of Stones and travel outwards from there, seeking knowledge to bring back. They answer the question of anyone who returns them back to their birth place. She had always believed they were legends. She couldn’t believe her luck that there was one flitting around in front of her. This must have been the “magical source” the Dark One was telling her about.

The Dark One nodded slowly. “Yes, dearie. You know what that means.”

Belle turned to face him smiling. “If I take it to the Hill of Stones, I can ask it how to find Merlin!” 

It was difficult to be mad at the Dark One for his dirty trick. He had deceived her, but he had also helped her just as he said he would. It was much easier to focus on her excitement over the Will-o’ the-Wisp than her increasing irritation with the Dark One.

He leaned closer resting a hand on her shoulder and whispered into her ear. “Yes, now all you have to do is catch it!” He shoved her along as if he were a mother bird pushing her out of the nest.

Once she regained her balance, Belle didn’t waste any time.

Life as the Dark One was dreadful and bleak. Even a bit of good news felt like finding gold.

She rushed after the wisp, panting as she ran and hopped over tree roots and foliage. She clutched her dusty skirts, holding them up, so she wouldn’t trip as she ran.

You’d think the Dark One could wear something a bit more practical.

The wisp zoomed ahead of her, and she reached out to grab it, but she narrowly missed, and stumbled as it zigzagged through the forest humming with powerful magic. Her feet were uncomfortable after a full day of walking, and her heart raced, but she couldn’t allow herself to take a break. Not when she was so close she could almost-

She was so consumed with reaching the orb she didn’t see a stranger jump in front of her and grab it, shoving it into a bag. The slender figure glanced back just long enough for Belle to see a her face between the fabric of a dark cloak before charging off ahead of her.

“Hey!” Belle cried, unable to keep up with the girl for much longer. She ran after the thief, who kept running nimbly through the thick forest. The girl was almost out of sight. “Hey, I need that. Please! Stop!” Belle yelled, reaching out.

“Ooomf!”

Suddenly, the girl fell back like she had tripped over an invisible wire and was yanked back by an unseen force.

Belle gasped and grabbed at her trembling hand which was fizzling with dark magic. She groaned, taking a deep breath to try to calm herself. After a moment, she recovered and caught up to the girl who quickly scrambled to get off the floor.

The girl removed the top of her cloak revealing herself to be young with bright frizzy red hair like fire and emerald eyes. She wore a royal blue dress befitting a proper princess. Seeing the girl face to face, it was no surprise to Belle that she couldn’t keep up with her. She very clearly possessed combat prowess and noble bearing which were a rare combination for a woman of the Enchanted Forest.

The girl strung and notched a spiky arrow on her intricate longbow at Belle aggressively. “Back off, lassie,” she snarled in a thick Scottish accent. “My aim is true, don’t test me.”

Based on the strong accent, Belle suspected this girl to be a native of DunBroch. Belle had never been anywhere near DunBroch herself, but she read that the people there had distinct accents and hearty attitudes.

Perhaps the Hill of Stones isn’t far from here, and Camelot might be only a few days north by ferry!

Belle bit back a smile, so she could address the menacing girl in front of her.

Taking a few steps back, she lifted her palms up in surrender. Breathlessly, she said, “I’m sorry. Please, I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

“Tell that to the dunt on my bum!” said the girl, rubbing her backside. She cocked her head and narrowed her eyes at Belle. “So that was just a wee magical love tap?” the archer nodded to Belle’s hand which was still crackling with magic and shaking with fright.

“I’m learning that magic is a lot harder to control than I thought,” Belle replied, trying to remain calm. When Rumple had magic, he always seemed so powerful and collected. She wondered if there was ever a time that the magic had overwhelmed him like this.

“Oh, I’ve met my share of witches,” The girl spat. “I know one when I see one, witch."

Belle smiled despite the threat and shook her head. “I’m not a witch. I’m the Dark One. It’s more like an evil entity?”

She had meant to ease the girl’s suspicions, but it didn’t do much good. If anything, the girl seemed more agitated, tensing the muscles in her shoulders.

“And the difference is?” 

“I-I was cursed with dark magic trying to save my husband.” 

She supposed it was best not to admit that her husband also had been the Dark One. Maybe she would wait until the girl wasn’t threatening to kill her. “But, I’m trying very hard not to use magic. I just want to find a way to destroy dark magic once and for all.” Belle glanced at Merida’s satchel cautiously. “That wisp in your bag is the only way I can defeat dark magic and see my husband again.”

“You really want to be rid of it?” the girl asked suspiciously, clutching her bow. She quickly glanced at her satchel, then back to Belle.

“Yes, more than anything!” Belle assured her with a pleading face, still holding her hands up to show her passive intentions. Belle wasn’t sure if it was her honesty or her obvious desperation that finally convinced the girl but either way it seemed to work.

The archer nodded and lowered her bow slightly.

“Aye. I know what that’s like. It’s a terrible fate to be cursed. Especially when it separates you from someone you love.”

Belle saw great sadness in the girl’s bright green eyes. She wasn’t untouched by magic either.

“Yes, it is,” Belle agreed with a pang, thinking about Rumplestiltskin. She missed him. At least when they were separated in the Land Without Magic she knew where he was and that he was safe. She had no idea how Merlin’s spell might affect him. She hoped he was okay.

“Just be glad you’re not a bear,” the girl said, pulling Belle from her thoughts.

Belle laughed.

What a strange thing to say!

This girl with her strong accent and odd quips reminded her fondly of Rumple. “Will do,” Belle replied, smiling and putting her hands down. “I’m Belle.” After such a near battle, they weren’t quite ready to shake hands, but introductions were in order.

“Merida.” She nodded in silent truce.

“I wish I could say it’s nice to meet you, Merida. I certainly wish it was under better circumstances,” Belle said, wearily wiping sweat from her forehead.

Merida seemed to look her up and down for the first time, from her tired face to her tangled hair to her ragged hospital clothes and dirty cloak. Even without the magic, Belle was a frightening sight.

“You’re in dire straits aren’t you, Belle?” Merida said the danger in her voice had dropped immensely, and she regarded Belle with something akin to pity.

“It certainly seems that way.” Belle shrugged.

Merida sheathed her bow. “Look, I wish I could help you. But, I need the wisp too, for my kingdom, for my family.” She said it with such conviction it left Belle in awe. “So…” Merida paused as she seemed to consider something, and then shook her head, the mess of curls falling into her face as she did it. “I’m afraid you’re gonna have to fight me for it.” Before Belle could stop her, Merida pushed her hair back behind her face, threw down her bow, and raised her hands into fists assuming a fighting stance.

“What?!” Belle asked, shocked, her mouth hanging agape.

Merida straightened her fighting stance, and even that slight movement gave her unruly hair leeway to crowd her face again.

She tightened her fists. “I’m willing to fight fair if you are. No magic."

The Dark One appeared next to Belle causing her to jump. Standing there, talking to Merida, had been the longest she went without a snide comment from him since she woke up in the Enchanted Forest. Her relief drained when he decided to open his smart mouth.

“I like her spunk,” he growled. “Break her neck!”

Belle wondered at how he could compliment and threaten her practically in the same breath.

“I’m not going to fight you!” said Belle incredulously, trying to avoid giving the Dark One unnecessary attention. She did not want a repeat of what happened with the man last night.

“You’re not?” said a surprised Merida, lowering her hands.

“Why not?” pouted the Dark One. “The wisp is in her satchel. Just take it!” he yelled.

“No!” Belle shook her head firmly. “Magic or no, that’s giving in to the darkness, and I won’t do it.” She glanced over to see the Dark One frowning beside her, and she smiled before addressing Merida again. “Besides, I know what it’s like to fight for your family.”

“You do?”

Belle thought about her mother’s sacrifice. She thought about her own decision to summon the Dark One, so her family wouldn’t perish in the Ogres War. Finally, she thought about Rumplestiltskin when he sacrificed his life to save her and Neal and all of Storybrooke, and when she saw him dying she had no choice but to save him also.

That’s what mattered most: family and love.

“Yes! I also would sacrifice everything for my people,” Belle exclaimed, and she stuck her chin out.

The princesses seemed to come to a silent understanding that they had at least this much in common with each other.

“I need to return the wisp to a place called the Hill of Stones, so it can tell me how to find Merlin,” Belle explained, and Merida appeared even more surprised and impressed.

“What if… " Belle was unsure if she should say what she was thinking, but knew she no longer wanted to travel alone. “What if we travel to the Hill of Stones together, and maybe the wisps will answer both our questions?” 

It might be a long shot, but Belle had to try. She could really use another ally, and she could tell Merida had good intentions.

“That’s a bad idea,” the Dark One spoke to Belle. “She’s a fiery one. She’ll just betray you.”

She can’t be any worse than traveling alone with you, thought Belle, knowing he would hear her.

She had a good feeling about Merida, and she had to trust that over the Dark One’s instincts.

He frowned and folded his arms petulantly, and it pleased Belle to see him unsatisfied for once.

“You know an awful lot about DunBroch magic for a foreigner,” said Merida.

“I read a lot of books,” Belle said proudly. 

She thought others might expect her to feel ashamed for always having her head in a book, her father certainly believed it was a frivolous activity, but she didn’t. She liked to read, and she knew all that knowledge would be useful at some point. “But, I’m afraid I don’t know how to get to the Hill of Stones from here.” She didn’t admit that she also had no idea where “here” was.

“That’s okay,” Merida said. “I do. It’s about a day’s trek North from here,” she said, slinging her bow back over her shoulder and nodding at the forest behind her.

“Then, if you help me with my mission to find Merlin, I will help you find your brothers and reclaim your kingdom,” Belle declared, beaming.

She was excited to go to the Hill of Stones. She had read about the enchanted site in books of DunBroch myths, but she had never had the opportunity to visit it herself. She could never have guessed that being the Dark One would open up new adventures for her; often, she couldn’t predict where life would take her.

“Aye. You’ve got yourself a deal,” Merida said, reaching out her arm for Belle to shake.

Next to her the Dark One let out a howling laugh and perked up from his poor mood. “Ooh, a deal with the Dark One. She certainly is brave.” He cackled and shook himself. “Ah, you’ll get that later.”

When Belle didn’t react, he waved his hands, urging her on.

“Well, go on, dearie. Deals are the best part about being the Dark One!”

“No!” Belle shrieked suddenly.

Merida withdrew her hand and creased her eyebrows with concern.

Seeing Merida’s confusion, Belle added in a calmer tone, “No. No deal. Just two people helping each other. Like…like friends.” Belle smiled seeing the Dark One don a scowl and shake his head with obvious annoyance.

“Aye, friends,” Merida agreed with a smile. Merida walked in the direction of the wood behind her, and Belle followed her steps feeling much lighter.

After a moment, Merida added, “You have a strange way of making friends, Belle.”

 Belle laughed and shook her head. “You have no idea.”

Chapter 8: A New Light

Summary:

With the help of a very special person, Rumplestiltskin acknowledges his trauma.

Nothing was real. Nothing felt real, not to him. Even as the wind gripped his face and the snowflakes doused his messy hair, it all felt fake and distorted.

He was crouched over in the snow, but he couldn’t make himself even feel cold if he tried. He felt like he was trapped in a snow globe with thick flakes of artificial snow weighing on him, and water pressure pushing and pulling him tight while some outsider shook him. Grasping desperately to the base of the structure, he tried to shake the feeling that he might go flying into space.

“You’ve got your son, but you’ve lost yourself.” That, there was the outsider, shaking the hell out of him.

Even as she spoke, he felt his body contort and his mind unravel. The pressure of it all was overwhelming, and all he could do was tremble helplessly.

Sun? There was no sun, only darkness.

“Rumple?!” said another feminine voice, louder and clearer than the first, like cold water down your throat on a hot day.

When he looked up at her, he saw the first real thing in this miserable prison.

It was her. She was standing tall and looking down on him, but not in a bad way like the outsider beside him. She was very beautiful. Her hair cascaded in dark auburn curls, and snowflakes fell delicately upon her head like a crown. Her pale skin rivaled the beauty of fresh snow angels. Her bright blue eyes were dizzying in their magnificence.

All the focus and sanity he had lost was somehow recovered just by drinking her in.

She trembled slightly. She was cold. And, she was sad. Her eyes were wet, and frozen tears sparkled on her cheeks like tiny diamonds. Her soft voice quivered when she spoke to him. She was worried. She was afraid.

“No, no Rumple,” he grunted as he tried to make sense of the strange world around him.

It wasn’t what he had wanted to say, but when he opened his mouth, it was all that would come out. Once he started, he couldn’t stop his mindless shouting either. Something else had invaded his mind. I’m trapped, all alone, he thought.

She was right in front of him, if only he could reach her.

But he couldn’t move beyond aimless swaying, and he couldn’t speak beyond mindless rambling.

She wasn’t coming any closer, frightened and confused as she appeared.

He briefly wondered if she was shaking because of the cold, or if the insanity of it all was getting to her too. Before he could entertain the idea more, his thoughts crumbled like a house of cards.

The outsider was saying something behind him, but he didn’t know what. Unlike the seraph in front of him, the outsider’s voice mumbled, and it was difficult to catch meaning in her words, though the tone was spiteful.

He did hear the last thing she said with utmost clarity:

“Kill her.”

With the consciousness of another beating inside his brain, he couldn’t tell who ‘she’ was. He knew she was important though. And, he knew he didn’t want to kill her. But “want” didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was obedience and compulsion.

Kill her, kill her, kill her.

She looked him straight in the eyes, and he could feel her panic. She looked like a deer in the headlights, as helpless as he felt. She said that strange word again, softer like a plea, but it didn’t matter. Courtesy means nothing in the face of orders.

He tried to fight it. The insanity made it just as difficult to perform his own will as the orders of others, so he just crouched dumbly in the snow.

Suddenly, he felt the weight of it all lifting from him, and he wondered if she had somehow found a way to kill him, to free him.

He could see her chest rising with the effort of crying in the frigid cold. But before he could say anything, she was moving.

She ran past him, and he weakly reached for her, for the light, but she was gone. Gone, gone, gone. And he descended further into darkness.

Belle.

Rumple awoke with a start. He expected to find himself hooked up to the hospital again, the nightmare never ending. Instead, he was slumped over on a bench outside the hospital, the cool Maine air pulling at his hair once again and breathing fresh air into his lungs.

Emma was in front of him, pacing purposefully.

He took a deep gasp of air, finally able to breathe easily again. His chest pain was gone, and he wondered absently what kind of drugs the doctors had used to fix him.

“Gold!” said Emma, rushing over to him. “You scared the hell out of me.”

Rumple sat up slowly, still feeling a little unsteady.

“Where are we?” he said.

“Outside the hospital. Dr. Whale thought you might be more comfortable out here.”

What an odd thing to say. Since when has comfort ever mattered?

Rumple squinted. He had the feeling there was something Emma was keeping from him.

“I had a heart attack,” Rumple said, lifting his hand up over his chest and rubbing his fingers over the comforting thickness of his fine suit. The thin cotton from earlier was gone. He breathed a sigh of relief, feeling the familiar twisted edges of the Dark One Dagger still safe within his jacket.

“No, actually you didn’t,” Emma stated pointblank.

“What?” Rumple replied, looking up at her like she was crazy. “I know what a heart attack feels like. It was a heart attack.”

The pain had been almost unreal.

“No, you’re completely healthy. Dr. Whale said surprisingly so for someone possessed by all the evils of the world for hundreds of years.”

“No, that can’t be right.” He shook his head. “Zelena! She must have cursed me. Her magic—”

“That’s not possible. We never took the cuff off her,” Emma interrupted, and she took a seat next to him on the bench. “Your heart’s fine. Whale said your reaction was probably…psychological.” She shifted a bit, giving him a sympathetic look.

“Wh-what?”

“Look, this is clearly too much for you.” She put a hand on his shoulder. “Why don’t you go home and rest. We can pick up with the search tomorrow.” 

He shook her hand off and stood up quickly. He could tell she was probably trying to be nice, but it only infuriated him.

“What? No! There is no ‘search.’ Zelena has the power to take us to Belle; we just need to go back in there and make her help us,” he growled.

Emma stood up. “Have you lost your mind? You’re in no position to fight her. You said it yourself: she’s dangerous and can’t be trusted,” Emma argued, but Rumple wasn’t in the mood for logic.

“And? If it means we can reach Belle I’ll do anything,” he almost snarled. “Wouldn’t you do the same for the pirate?”

Emma appeared to think about it for a few moments.

He actually thought he had managed to convince her before she shook her head, and his heart sank.

“I’m sorry, but I’m putting my foot down. Regina and I both agree. This is far too risky. She’s the mayor, and I’m the sheriff, so you’re not getting around us, okay? Now go home and relax. We’ll find another way.”

Relax?! Belle is the Dark One in an entirely different realm.

The only way Rumple could relax is if they tranquilized him. He couldn’t say that; he didn’t want to give them any ideas.

Rumple shook his head, but he could see that arguing with Emma was pointless.

Why is everyone in this damned town so stubborn?

He sighed and stormed off. He thought when he was alone in his car he could take a few breaths, calm down even a little. Instead, he whined and beat his steering wheel a good bit. Not sure if “relaxed” would be the right word, but it did allow him to release enough steam to drive.

At home, he found he couldn’t relax either. He was anxious and tense and more than anything furious. If he hadn’t had a complete meltdown in front of Zelena, Emma and Regina might have been willing to work with her to find Belle. Now Belle was in serious danger, and it was all his fault.

He went to his office and found the ornately framed photo of Belle in her beautiful wedding gown.  Looking at it had always calmed him down. He managed something close to a tentative smile.

She was so beautiful and happy.

Was.

She had sacrificed her happiness to save his sorry self and for what? Even without the darkness, Rumple was incarcerated by his darker emotions. Belle was always the light of his life, the one thing he could count on to make everything better. Something inside of her managed to be hopeful and brave even in the worst of circumstances.

He had thought that thing would be what kept her true despite the darkness, but what if the darkness took that from him too? Would she be the same after being entangled with darkness? Even if he managed to find her, was the Belle he knew gone for good?

He frowned which turned into a growl, and he hurled the picture against the mantelpiece. The glass shattered, the frame cracked, and the picture split, a small tear appearing on the side of her face. Instant regret overflowed him, and he cried over the remains of the frame.

“I’m sorry, Belle,” he whispered, brushing a finger over the tear before he threw it back on the ground and trudged out of his house. He needed to get out of here. He got in the car and started driving without really caring where he ended up.

Somehow, he ended up at Granny’s Diner. It seemed as good a place as any for lost souls. It was here Belle went when she left him in Storybrooke. Here was the place he took her on their first real date. Here was where she took him when she was cursed as Lacey. It was here that he pleaded for the heroes’ help to find Belle after she had been sucked up in a vortex of darkness.

Rumple sat at the bar at Granny’s drinking a scotch alone.

Probably the only thing I could stomach in this dingy diner.

The place was almost deserted since the lunch rush was over, and no one else was sitting at the counter, probably as they were trying to avoid his increasingly drunken ire.

“Another scotch on the rocks,” said Ruby with a cautious smile, passing Rumple a second drink. As soon as the glass hit the counter, she recoiled and turned away.

“Thank you, Ms. Lucas,” mumbled Rumplestiltskin, slurring his words.  He took a sip, savoring the flavor.

At least I still have this, he grimaced.

The stool next to him was empty until Baelfire got up on it and turned to face him. Rumple smiled back wearily at Baelfire, cherishing the image of his son. His warm brown eyes, his wide smile, his tousled dark hair, it was all just as he remembered: perfect. Rumple wanted to reach out and touch him, but he also didn’t want to shatter the illusion. He didn’t have any photos of young Baelfire, so these fleeting moments were the closest he ever got to seeing his son again.

“Papa, Papa!” Baelfire said enthusiastically.

Rumple nodded, smiling at the realness of the image, the innocent neediness of his voice, the eager trust like Rumple’s attention was the most valuable thing in the world. No one had ever looked at Rumple the way his son had, and no one ever would again. Hearing him like this could only be described as bittersweet. He thought Bae appeared to remind him of his guilt, his shame, his cowardice. But, even this simple memory of his son could only make his heart swell with pride and joy.

“Papa!” said Baelfire, more urgently this time, his smile falling, and his face becoming concerned as his hand waved over Rumple’s eyes.

Rumple thought it was strange that Bae was still there. Usually, he only appeared for a second or two at most. Rumple put down his glass and rubbed his eyes.

“Grandpa? Grandpa? Hello? Grandpa!”

“Henry,” said Rumple, blinking a few times as the form of his grandson became whole and clearer in a single sobering moment.

“Can I have one?” Henry asked, pointing to the scotch in front of Rumple.

“What?! Absolutely not,” replied a slightly dazed Rumple. He picked up his glass and took another sip.

“Oh, I just thought…” Henry trailed off looking down at his lap.

“You thought that because I was the Dark One I might endorse underage drinking.” Rumple raised an eyebrow.

“It was worth a shot,” Henry shrugged sheepishly, and he ordered a hot cocoa with whipped cream and cinnamon instead.

“Nice try. “ Rumple winked with a low chuckle. “Are you sure you’re not the pirate’s grandson?” Henry opened his mouth, but before he could say something, Rumple added, “don’t answer that.” He took another sip of his scotch.

“So, I’ve been thinking...” said Henry, changing the subject and playing with his fingers.

Rumple put down his glass and shifted on the stool to better face Henry, raising an eyebrow.

This should be good.

“To make this whole thing official, we’ll need an operation name.”

“What?” Rumple said, caught off guard. After his unfortunate experience at the hospital, he didn’t want to think of operations at all.

“An operation name,” Henry repeated, looking up more confidently. Seeing Rumple was still very confused, Henry continued, “Oh, that’s right. I forgot you haven’t been in on any of the previous operations because… you were always on the bad guys’ side.”

“Right,” said Rumple, scowling and stirring the scotch slowly. He didn’t think it possible, but somehow this conversation was making him feel even worse.

Seeing he had struck a bitter nerve, Henry continued a bit more carefully. “Well, when I first brought Emma to Storybrooke, I wanted her help breaking the curse, but I didn’t want my other mom to find out what we were doing, so we used code names and walkie talkies and stuff. Now any time we have a big mission, we come up with an operation name to make it real and official. Breaking the first curse was Operation Cobra, bringing my mom and grandma back to Storybrooke was Operation Scorpion, finding the author was Operation Mongoose.”

“I see.” Rumple bit at the inside of his cheek, trying to mask his growing interest. He inwardly smiled as he realized these “operations” were probably the reason Emma agreed to take Sheriff Graham’s Walkie Talkies from him all those years ago. He couldn’t help feeling a bit flattered that Henry thought to include him now.

“What did you have in mind then?” Rumple decided to humor Henry as he took a sip from his scotch.

“Hmm…” said Henry thoughtfully, considering the possibilities and taking a sip of his hot cocoa in a similar fashion to the way Rumple took his scotch. “What about Operation Light Beauty? You know, because she’s the beauty from Beauty and the Beast.”

 Rumple choked on his drink a little. “Aha, I guess that makes me the beast.” 

“Yep,” said Henry matter-of-factly.

It would figure, Rumple frowned.

Rumple turned to face Henry better, smiling thinly and studying the details of his face for traces of humor or pretense, but there were none. Finally, he nodded slowly. “Alright. Operation Light Beauty it is,” said Rumple, tipping the edge of his glass to toast Henry’s mug before taking another large sip. They sat in silence for a few minutes, Rumple drinking prescriptively, and Henry scrutinizing him as he enjoyed his hot cocoa.

“What’s wrong?” said Henry finally, his eyebrows creased.

Rumple sat down his glass and sighed. He realized belatedly that Henry must have been waiting for him to speak.

“It’s…Belle. We’ve found a way to reach her.” 

“Really? That’s great!” Henry’s face lit up.

Rumple envied Henry’s ability to be so optimistic in the face of uncertainty.

“Yeah, except it requires Zelena using Merlin’s magic to open a portal between realms.” 

“Oh.” Henry took a sip of hot chocolate with a soft hum. “I can’t imagine my moms were pleased.”

Rumple clicked his tongue. “They were not.” He waved his hand dismissively. “The mayor has forbidden me from seeing Zelena again, and the sheriff is enforcing the law,” Rumple said scathingly.  He paused with a distant look In his eyes. He looked away from Henry and at a peeling poster behind the counter, pretending he was reading it.

“But it’s more than that,” he admitted vacantly, sucking in some air. “When I was standing there in that room in front of Zelena, I felt like I was back in the hospital bed, and she was standing over me, cutting off my oxygen. I felt terrified, weak. I didn’t feel like me. I didn’t even feel human. I felt like a weapon, like an object. It reminded me of when she enslaved me to terrorize everyone. Even though I know I’m not the Dark One anymore and I can’t be controlled, I still felt like she could control me if she wanted to. And then, to not have any magic to defend myself… It was just like I was back in the hospital bed, helpless and vulnerable and weak, and she was squeezing my breathing tube. I can’t face her again. I’m frightened. But if I don’t, I’ll never see Belle again.”

Rumple let out a deep breath he didn’t know he was holding in. He couldn’t believe he was confiding all this in a child, in his grandson. It felt wrong, but he couldn’t help himself. It felt like once he opened his mouth, the words were tumbling out before he could think about what they meant.

“Don’t worry. You will see her again.” 

“How can you be so certain?”

“Because I have faith, the kind of faith that runs in our family.”

Rumple shook his head and frowned, feeling the wrinkles in his face crease downward. “I think you’ve got the wrong side of your family, my boy. The only thing that runs in my family is abandonment issues,” Rumple said with a dark chuckle.

Henry didn’t laugh. He seemed entirely oblivious to Rumple’s second sentence.

“I’m not wrong,” Henry asserted. “I was right about my mom, the queen, and I’m right about you. If you didn’t have faith you wouldn’t have spent all those years searching for my dad. And you wouldn’t have let yourself fall in love with Belle in the first place. “ Henry smiled triumphantly, seemingly aware that he was winning the informal debate.

Rumple was seldom persuaded by faith speeches alone, but reason he could understand.

He nodded and let out a low humming sound as he considered what Henry said. He had to give credit to Henry for taking the ambitious task of trying to find a semblance of optimism in Rumplestiltskin’s desperate soul. Perhaps, Henry was right. The darkness in him had tried hard to coerce him to abandon the search for Bae and to turn Belle away. But something tugged inside him, and he knew he just couldn’t.

“Well, I did spend over 200 years trying to fix things with Baelfire. I should spend at least that long trying to save my wife.” 

Things were quiet for a few minutes, and then Henry spoke up tentatively. “You’ve dealt with the Wicked Witch before. Why do you think this time was different?”

It was a fair question. For so long, Zelena was nothing more than a fly on his shoulder. More than that, he had dealt with his fair share of witches and monsters. He usually just bared his teeth and made a snide comment, moving on with his life. Perhaps the most terrifying thing about losing control this afternoon was how sudden and unexpected it was.

“You know how I used my magic to compensate for my limp?” He reached down to briefly massage his sore leg.

“Yeah,” said Henry. “You injured yourself in the Ogres War, so you could be a father to my dad, but once you had magic you could heal your injury like it never happened.”

Rumple nodded and shivered at the stark retelling of one of the most influential moments of his long life.

He sighed and said slowly in a raspy voice, “I’m starting to think that my limp wasn’t the only thing I used magic to compensate for.”

Henry looked Rumple up and down. “And now you’re using alcohol to cope with the magic withdrawal and trauma.”

Touché.

“I always knew you were a clever boy,” he said solemnly, raising his glass and flashing Henry a dark smirk before taking another sip of scotch. He reached over cautiously and squeezed Henry’s shoulder gently before pulling back.

“Well, I am Rumplestiltskin's grandson,” Henry said with a light smile, his eyes twinkling.

Rumple tilted his head with a trembling smile, and he felt tears weighing down his eyelids, but he willed them to stay put. He couldn’t fall apart. Not here, not with Henry, not again.

Henry took a gulp of his cocoa. Either he didn’t notice, or he was pretending he didn’t notice.

“It sounds like you’ve been through some trauma,” Henry said to which Rumple nodded slowly, his hand trembling on the whisky glass. Rumple had never given much thought to it, but now that the word was floating in the air like a dandelion petal, he couldn’t help but think the term “trauma” didn’t even begin to describe what he’d been through. It was certainly too late to worry about that now.

“Maybe you should talk to Archie about this?” 

Rumple looked at Henry’s eyes, serious but innocent. Bae’s eyes used to look like that before he found him in New York. He never wanted to see a spark so bright dim again.

Rumple appreciated the boy’s intentions, but this was hardly the time for him to talk about his dreams when Belle was in serious peril. His sanity could wait, Belle’s safety could not. Still, he didn’t want to dash Henry’s efforts.

“Maybe I will,” he said, pressing his lips together. “But for now I think I’ll get stoshed until I have enough liquid courage to face Zelena and make her open the portal.”

He could see Henry squinting to try to understand exactly what Rumple had said, and he silently cursed himself. Rumple’s intentions became clearer when he reached for his nearly empty whisky glass.

Henry quickly snatched it away to Rumple’s surprise. He raised an eyebrow, waiting for Henry to explain himself.

“I’ve got a better idea,” said Henry, holding Rumple’s attention. “Sober up, and I’ll help you talk through the emotions right now. And when you’re ready, we can confront her together.”

Rumple’s eyes widened. His whole life he had learned it was far better to keep emotions bottled up than to spill them all over staining relationships and good suit jackets. He imagined he had already let far too much out tonight, and it would be better if he could express the mess going on in his head through actions, perhaps the swift arc of a cane smashing a snotty redhead. Rumple’s emotions were a lost cause, he knew, but unfortunately Henry still clung to some strange hope that he could be fixed.

Perhaps he could intimidate the boy into leaving it alone, that certainly would’ve worked for himself.

“Are you sure about that, Henry? It could be dangerous, and I don’t know if you should be going behind your mothers’ backs like that.” Rumple certainly didn’t want to get on the bad side of the Evil Queen and the Savior.

“I don’t need their permission. I’m not a kid anymore,” Henry said with a mischievous smirk.

It seemed so unlike Henry that Rumple wondered if he was developing a rebellious streak. He could see the thirst for adventure twinkling in Henry’s young eyes as it did for Bae. Alas, there would be no backing down from Henry. If anything, the threat of danger seemed to excite him, Rumple realized regretfully.

“Hmm…You’re what? 13, now?“ He raised an eyebrow.

Henry nodded. “I’ll be 14 in August.” He sat up straighter on the stool, puffing out his thin chest.

Rumple flinched, but he hoped Henry hadn’t noticed. He realized Henry was almost as old as Baelfire had been when he was drafted to the First Ogres War.

“Trust me; you’re still a kid,” Rumple said, rubbing his hand against the rough stubble of his chin. He wished he could tell Henry to stay a kid forever: full of hope and light. He squinted, studying Henry, and he could see fierce unwavering determination that could not be easily waved away though. Rumple sighed.

Feeling like there were no better options, he attempted to bargain with his grandson.

“You know, you’re still the author. Perhaps you could use the author's power to fix all of this? To bring back Belle and remove her darkness and write away my limp and my trauma. Make me a hero,” Rumple said, almost tripping his voice over the word “hero.”

Henry frowned.

“Isn’t using magic as a quick fix what got us into this mess in the first place?” 

Rumple reluctantly grumbled assent. There was so much Baelfire in Henry it hurt. How had he never seen it before?

“If I have learned anything from being Author, it’s that sometimes you have to let these stories play out and deal with them as they go.” Henry shrugged.

Rumple sighed. Henry was right, of course, he had learned his lesson for trying to change prophecies set in stone too many times. As a seer, he knew that you can’t change what fate has planned for you. You can only play with the hand you’ve been dealt. Trying to cheat the system always backfired, it seems, if his drastic failure of trying to write a better outcome for himself and Belle had proven.

He remembered back in New York when Henry asked him about his seer powers and Rumple tried to explain that knowing his future and being helpless to alter it was more often a curse than a superpower. Perhaps being the author put Henry in a unique position to understand that pain. In just this short amount of time Henry had grown up and become so wise.

Of course, he still had a lot of growing up left to do.

“Also, I broke it,” Henry said after a moment, disturbing Rumple’s thoughts and surprising him.

Is that even possible? To destroy such powerful magic would require an incredible amount of will.

“What?!”

“It’s too much power,” Henry said. He took a breath before meeting Rumple directly in the eyes and saying firmly, “No one should have that kind of power.”

Rumple sighed and shamefully examined his fingertips needing a distraction from his guilt now that the alcohol was gone. In his long life, Rumple had constantly witnessed power absolutely corrupt even the most innocent souls. As much as it pained Rumple to admit, perhaps destroying dark power was a solution of sorts. It was what Bae had always wanted, and what he could never deliver.

Henry spoke again, resting his hand on Rumple’s. “Belle would want you to find another way to solve this. One that doesn’t rely on breaking the rules of magic. She wanted you to be a hero, remember?”

Oh, right, that again. It seemed this town was just divided into moral cliques: “Heroes” and “Villains.” Isn’t there any place for people who just want to live their life in peace around here? Apparently not.

Rumple admitted he’d much rather be at the heroes' camp after everything. It just wasn’t in the cards for him.

“That’s just it,” Rumple said, trying to carefully select the right words. “I’m not a nice man, Henry. As you said I’m one of the ‘bad guys’. I’m…just a coward. Belle is all I had. She is the only one who ever believed in me. I don’t have any friends, I don’t have any family, I’ve lost my power… and now I’ve lost Belle. I’m all alone, truly dust.” He opened his hand like he was relinquishing his hold on any hope he might’ve had.

Henry waited patiently for Rumple to finish talking, and then he shook his head. “That’s not true. You do have family. Me and Emma are your family too. My dad believed in you, and if he could, so can I.”

Rumple frowned. He tried to avoid the question burning on his tongue, but eventually he could no longer hold it in.

“Did you mean what you said when you asked to work for me? About me being the closest thing to your father?” Rumple blurted, and then quickly added with a smirk, “or were you just snooping for information on the author?” He tried to mask the pain when Henry didn’t respond at first.

He dropped the smirk in favor of a stone-faced expression. He supposed it was foolish to expect Henry would want to spend time with him after everything that happened. What more was there to know about him? He was a villain and a coward to boot. Besides, Henry had his own perfect family, quite large and happy and good. There wasn’t much benefit in expanding it to include his grumpy self. Indeed, without magic, Rumple really didn’t have anything of value to offer him.

Henry spoke softly, interrupting Rumple’s brooding. “Well, mostly I was looking for information on the author…. But I meant what I said too. You are my grandfather. You’re a part of my family. You’re all I have left of my dad and…and sometimes I forget I’m all you have left of your son.”

Rumple turned to face Henry, tears welling up in his eyes once again. He fought hard to keep his voice steady.

“You look just like him,” Rumple said with a watery smile, his voice unavoidably becoming emotional.

“What was he like when he was my age?” Henry asked curiously. “Before everything with the darkness, I mean.”

“Brave,” Rumple said reverently in his thick accent. Rumple leaned back on the stool slightly. “And compassionate. Even before I took in the darkness, I wasn’t worth much, but he always saw something to be proud of in me,” Rumple said as Henry listened carefully. “For many years it was just me and Bae facing the world alone. Sometimes I wish I could go back to those simpler times without magic.” He imagined it for a second. “But then I never would've met Belle and…and that’s not something I’m willing to give up either.” 

He was silent for some time, but Henry didn’t say anything, so he eventually continued.

“Bae was…a remarkable boy. He would help anyone who needed it. He would make the lowliest of the low feel like a king, feel like something special. He made me really feel like a man. And he didn’t let anyone push him around either. He held his head high and spoke up for what was right, always. When he set his mind to something nothing could stop him,” Rumple recalled affectionately, his accent growing thicker with emotion. His vision fogged up, but whether it was from unshed tears or remembering Baelfire he couldn’t say.

“But what was life like for you?” Henry asked eagerly as he sipped the hot chocolate.

“Mostly it was a simple life. Bae played in the village with the other boys sometimes. And sometimes we made the trip to sell spun wool in town. But for the most part we kept to ourselves. Townspeople didn’t really approve of me, and I think in some ways that rubbed off on Bae, but if it bothered him he never told me, never showed it. I was trying to teach him to spin wool shortly before he was drafted, but he never had much patience for that. He always had bigger dreams in mind.”

Rumple shrugged. He couldn’t begrudge Bae wanting more for his life, so he never pushed it. Truth be told, he also wanted more for his Baelfire than being the cowardly spinner’s son.

“Could you teach me to spin?” Henry asked.

Rumple was quite surprised by the question, but he shook his head.

“Neither of us have magic anymore, so I’m afraid I can’t teach you to spin straw into gold.”

“That’s alright.” Henry said to Rumple’s astonishment.

He expected Henry to be upset or disappointed but not indifferent.

He was even more taken aback when Henry said, “Could you teach me to spin wool anyway?”

Rumple paused and tried to examine Henry’s face to understand what his motivations were. All he saw was love and hope of another young boy who was growing up without a father.

Finally, he felt a single tear leak out, and he quickly wiped it away. “Yes,” Rumple said softly with a smile. “I can teach you to spin.”

He reached out to Henry and squeezed his shoulder affectionately.

Henry beamed back at him and ordered Rumple a hot cocoa. Rumple expected Henry to ask him something else, but he didn’t. He just sat there patiently sipping the hot cocoa and leaving Rumple to sort out his thoughts.

“Do you like your hot chocolate?” asked Henry, gesturing to Rumple’s untouched mug.

Rumple lifted the mug to his lips and took a pensive sip. He liked the way the beverage warmed his cold fingers and soothed his hoarse throat. But as far as the taste…Rumplestiltskin does not have a sweet tooth. He felt the rich chocolate liquid sweep across his tongue and over his teeth. The sickly-sweet sensation was so intense it unsettled him. He tried to avoid making a face.

“I’m more of a tea person,” Rumple said finally with a shrug. Although if nothing else he could appreciate how the sugary cocoa masked the bitter taste of his whiskey. He could almost pretend that he hadn’t been trying to get drunk at 4 PM in a local diner.

Henry seemed disappointed with Rumple’s reaction to the hot cocoa as he frowned at him. Then, his eyes lit up with an idea.

“I almost forgot!” exclaimed Henry, and he quickly stood up and snuck behind the diner’s counter to retrieve a cinnamon shaker. “You can’t have hot chocolate without cinnamon. It makes it way better.”

Henry came back, and Rumple allowed him to give two firm shakes of the cinnamon into his mug.

Rumple gave him a skeptical look, but he nevertheless took another sip to Henry’s eagerly expectant eyes. The cinnamon added a unique flavor, but it did very little to mask the saccharine taste of milk chocolate and sugar.

“Mmm,” Rumple lied, looking at Henry and flashing a sheepish smile. With Henry being so excited about something as easy as hot beverages, he couldn’t just let him down.

“It is a family thing! I knew it,” Henry declared happily, and he lifted his mug before slurping happily.

Rumple decided to take another sip of the cocoa to nail the façade home, but when he looked at the dark steaming river below him, he lost focus. Rumple stared blankly, drowning in thoughts about his past before he whispered, “I can’t shake the feeling that I’m to blame for all of this.” He had meant to think it, but somehow the words escaped his mouth before he could stop them.

“All of what? What happened with Belle or Zelena or Baelfire?”

“I don’t know…” Rumple said, pressing his fingers to the hot mug. He turned to face Henry. “…All of it? It seems like I destroy everything I touch.”

Indeed, becoming a hero was shaping up to be a much harder task than he had originally anticipated. The darkness at least gave him an excuse for his bad behavior, but now he was without it, and he still couldn’t solve all his problems, so it was increasingly likely it was a fault of himself.

Belle never knew him before he became the Dark One. How could she be sure Rumplestiltskin was a good man?

He had always assumed he would be the Dark One forever. Unlike Zoso, he didn’t anticipate escape in his future. It was such a huge part of his life he felt like an empty vessel without it.

He wondered if things would have been better if Belle hadn’t taken the darkness out of him, and he had just succumbed to it. With the dark corruption, he seemed to be adept at making people miserable. But without, he just felt completely helpless, useless, unable to make a difference one way or another. How could he protect his loved ones if he couldn’t even stand up for himself?

“You’re not to blame for your trauma. And as for your mistakes, it’s never too late to become a better man.”

It sounded like something Belle would say. If only words could make it true, could make Rumple believe.

Henry bumped his shoulder. “You’re better than all this, you know. The stuff that happened with Zelena. She can’t control you anymore. You’re safe, and you have people who care about you and support you. Not just Belle, I mean. My father believed in you, and so can I.” 

“Thank you, Henry. That means a lot,” Rumple whispered.

It wasn’t enough by a mile to relieve him of all the trauma, but perhaps it could help him be brave just this once, and he would take it step by step from there.

Maybe it was unloading on a teenager or the sweet buzz of a sugar rush, but just in that moment things didn’t feel as grim. Could he really go up against Zelena again and without power? Perhaps it was just the comfort in knowing he wasn’t so alone anymore that made him think there was a possibility. He didn’t know how or why, but he could believe in the chance of a happy ending for everyone.

Henry tapped Rumple’s shoulder, taking his attention away from the mug in front of him.

When Rumple lifted his head, he saw Henry’s eyes light up.

“I have an idea. Meet me at the back of the hospital in an hour for phase 1 of Operation Light Beauty,” Henry said, and he quickly drank the rest of his hot cocoa, wiped his mouth, grabbed his backpack, and jumped off the barstool, leaving the diner almost as elusively as he appeared.

Chapter 9: In the Absence of Light

Summary:

Merida and Belle travel together to the Hill of Stones; the Dark One pushes Belle to her breaking point.

“So, your parents held an archery competition to decide who would marry you?” Belle asked incredulously.

Surely, she must have misunderstood. The very idea seemed illogical and unloving.

“Aye,” Merida confirmed, and she chopped an obstructing branch with her sword.

"But, that’s ridiculous!”

“I know!” Merida snorted. “And none of those dunderheids could shoot an arrow to save their lives, so I entered the competition myself; clean split my arrow in half!"

“Wow.”

Belle admired Merida’s combat prowess. No one had ever taught Belle to fight. She supposed it was just something she always did.

“My father pressured me into an arranged marriage with the vain son of a neighboring lord, so we could gain their support in the Ogres War."

It really seemed like an eternity ago that she left her sheltered family castle for an unknown life with a mysterious sorcerer.

Merida was listening raptly, so she continued. “Instead, I summoned a dark wizard and made a deal with him to be the caretaker for his castle in exchange for his aid in ending the Ogres War….” Belle hesitated before adding evenly, “and then I married him.”

Merida stopped so suddenly Belle almost stumbled into her. She turned around and just stared at Belle in bafflement trying to understand the peculiarity which was Belle. It occurred to Belle that she may have overshared. After all, ogres were difficult to comprehend, if you hadn’t seen one up close and personal destroying villages and raising terror. And how could she even begin to explain the circumstances that led to her falling in love with Rumplestiltskin?

She opened her mouth to apologize when Merida burst out laughing.

It was a boisterous laugh with snorts and giggles, and her face turned nearly as red as her hair as she fought to compose herself. She bent over and grabbed her stomach while Belle watched at a loss for words.

Merida took a few breaths and said with a shake of her head, “You’re some kinda crazy, lass.” Then, she winked. “That’s alright. I like a bit of crazy.”

Filled with relief, Belle smiled bashfully. After the nerves wore off she shrugged. “Well, I’m happy with the way things worked out in the end anyway, minus the whole ‘Dark One Curse.’ But you can’t help who you fall in love with.”

Belle spoke it like an oath, but Merida just shook her head, dismissing Belle’s romanticism.

“I can, and I will thank you. Men are daft. All I need is my trusty bow and a few straight arrows.” Merida turned around, and she touched the tip of her bow strapped to her back before she kept walking.

Merida and Belle hiked north through the forest traveling to the Hill of Stones. Several hours later, the sky was darkening, and the thick branches cast heavy shadows overhead. The commotion of birds’ chirping and rabbits’ scampering had dimmed in the last few minutes as diurnal species settled in for the night.

It would have worried Belle had she been traveling alone, but Merida seemed unfazed and steadfast. Belle trudged on behind her, taking broad steps to keep up with Merida and wrapping her messy cloak about her to keep out the chill.

Behind Belle, the Dark One stepped lively, twittering and tutting. Between looking at the gritty Merida in front of her and the childish Dark One behind her, Belle began to feel drained.

She had been walking for nearly two days straight. Despite supposed dark magic and immortality, Belle’s refusal to indulge meant her whole body was sore and begging for rest. She felt less human with each step. The darkness seeped through her whole body making even the smallest movements feel leaden.

Her head sagged.

When the sun had been reduced to a sliver on the horizon, she finally felt the need to speak.

“We’ve been walking for hours, Merida. Perhaps we could slow down a bit?”

The Dark One beamed at her suggestion, but Belle didn’t care anymore. She just wanted to rest, even if it meant making the Dark One happy.

Originally, Belle had been elated at the idea of traveling with Merida, but, given Merida’s demanding pace, Belle wondered if she might have been better off alone. She could barely keep up with Merida. As Merida was her only guide to the Hill of Stones, she couldn’t afford to lose her.

“I don’t have time for 'slow'!” Merida insisted, and she turned to face Belle. She glared down at Belle, grinding her teeth.

Before Belle could retort, Merida swerved around and marched forward.

Belle knew Merida’s anger wasn’t directed at her. It seemed to be the only thing fueling her forward. For that brief moment, Belle could see Merida was sleep deprived. There were bags under her guarded eyes, and her lips were chapped with small splits of irritation.

Belle worried silently for Merida’s wellbeing. She hoped that if she kept talking to Merida she would realize how exhausted she was, and Belle might convince her to rest. At the very least, talking could keep the Dark One at arm’s length.

“You said you needed the wisp for your family. Did something happen to them?”

People don’t turn to magic unless it’s something really bad.

Merida walked with such urgency; Belle was certain there was a reason she was so desperate.

When she saw her own people ravaged by ogres she had felt the desperate need to do something, anything. And, when she saw Rumple smothered by darkness, she knew she had to act immediately.

“My brothers,” sighed Merida finally, slowing down enough for Belle to catch up. She stopped and faced Belle, revealing a pained expression. “They were kidnapped by the united clans of my country. Just three wee innocent boys. Savages! Because of me.”

Belle could see the guilt outlined in Merida’s face, in the tenseness of her toned muscles, and the brokenness of her accented voice.

Merida was missing her family just as Belle was.

“If you needed the magical wisp you could’ve just asked me instead of stealing it and trying to fight me for it,” Belle insisted, though she admitted to herself that it was easier said than done. If she had gotten to the wisp first she probably wouldn’t have readily handed over her only hope of seeing Rumple again. Nevertheless, she wished Merida had just been honest with her.

“What, and risked getting a ‘no’?” Merida shook her head and returned to the task at hand, striking at brush and marching deliberately, so Belle had to take large steps to keep up again.  She shrugged, grinning over her shoulder at Belle. “Sorry, but I’m more of a hit-first-ask-questions-later kind of lass.”

Belle laughed to herself. That much was obvious. Merida was certainly the most driven princess Belle had ever met. It was as admirable as it could be frustrating.

“Is that why the clans kidnapped your brothers?” As Belle said it, she realized the question may have come across unintentionally harsh, but Merida didn’t seem to mind. Instead she just snorted and shook her head.

“Hardly. My father is—” Merida caught her words in her mouth and took a breath “—was the king.“ She slashed a tree branch. Merida began breathing heavily with the exertion, her words coming out slower and more forced. “And when he passed, the clans no longer ‘approved’ of me being queen.” She frowned and kicked a pinecone out of the path. “Those kilted oafs don’t think I can rule the highlands without marrying one of them!” 

“Oh, arranged marriages, I know the feeling. My father arranged for me to marry this cold-hearted Gaston because he thought utilizing Gaston’s father’s army was the only way to defend ourselves from Ogres. I never did find out what happened to him…”

It was quite bizarre that he never popped up in Storybrooke like her father did. She considered it for a moment, and then dismissed the notion, deciding it was hardly important now. What mattered was Gaston and her father and everyone else from their kingdom was saved because of her sacrifice.

“There aren’t a lot of opportunities for women in this land to show what they can do, to be brave heroes and leaders,” Belle continued.

She had told Rumple that once. Going with him was her first opportunity to be a hero in a land where no one trusted her with even her own destiny.

Merida wrinkled her nose. “But, I’m gonna show them. Where there aren’t opportunities we have to make them ourselves!” She clenched a fist.

Merida was still sulking, but the sentiment made Belle smile. She was glad to know she was in good company with someone she could understand, at least partially.

“Yes, I suppose we do,” Belle said, sticking out her chin and standing a bit taller. Feeling a little stronger, she marched on behind Merida, Merida’s fancy bow bouncing on her back as they maneuvered the uneven “path.”

“I’m not going to marry someone I don’t fancy just to hold onto my own crown." Merida’s tone turned cold, and she hunched her shoulders. “After my father’s death, they exiled my mother, then kidnapped my brothers as ransom. They’ll only free them if I relinquish the throne.” 

“I’m sorry. That’s so awful,” Belle said. “You shouldn’t be forced to marry someone you don’t love just to save your family. Men don’t get to set all the rules for us. We can decide our own fates.”

She imagined Merida’s younger brothers endangered and threatened just because of politics, and she shuddered.

We will find a way to save Merida’s brothers, and destroy the darkness forever, she assured herself.

“Aye,” nodded Merida. “I need the wisp to take me to my brothers, and when it does, I will save them no matter what the cost.”

There was a dark tone behind her words that troubled Belle.

Is that what she sounded like when she talked about finding Merlin and reuniting with Rumple?

Merida abruptly halted, and Belle had to quickly catch herself as she almost collided with her again. Merida turned around and said in a strong brogue, “If it’s war the clans want, it’s war they’ll get!” Merida was so determined that Belle truly believed she would take down all of DunBroch to save her brothers.

Belle couldn’t believe violence was the answer, but she realized arguing with Merida was pointless. She had to trust that good magic like wisps would have a more reasonable solution, and all would work out in the end.

Turning around and marching forward, Merida left Belle scrambling to keep up once again. Merida’s dedication was impressive. It wasn’t always easy for Belle to be brave, but she admired Merida’s conviction.

“You’re certainly very brave,” Belle told her, and she furrowed her brow, remembering the way the Dark One had reveled in declaring the same sentiment earlier. He obviously knew something—Belle dreaded to find out what. “Has anyone ever told you that you have the warrior spirit?” Belle asked distractedly, thinking about her friend Mulan and her teaching Belle how to fight.

She doubted she could ever be as aggressive as Mulan and Merida, but somehow she always found a way to solve her problems.

“Wha-? Oomf!”  

Belle was lost in her thoughts and didn’t notice Merida in her haste had tripped over a large stone.

Falling face forward, Merida grunted, and Belle jumped when she heard the thudding sound of Merida connecting with the soil.

“Are you alright?” She quickly bent down to give Merida a hand.

“I’m fine, just a bit tired is all,” Merida said with a glare, but she grabbed Belle’s hand anyway and hoisted herself up. Once she was steady, she brushed the dirt off of her skirts, averting her eyes.

The sky was a deepening shade of navy blue around them, and Belle wondered if Merida could even tell where they were going in the absence of decent lighting.

“When’s the last time you slept?”

“What month is it?” Merida panted and wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand.

“Merida!” Belle cried. “You won’t be able to help your brothers if you’re sleep deprived!”

She crossed her arms. She refused to spend one more night plodding through this never-ending wood.

“Fine.” Merida rolled her eyes.

Belle could see Merida was very stubborn—reminding her fondly of Rumplestiltskin. The similarity between them made her smile, and she silently celebrated her triumph in persuading Merida to rest.

“We can make camp.” Merida pointed at an upcoming meadow that would make an adequate resting spot. “But just until first light,” she warned, and then she turned away from Belle and stomped off to the meadow.

Belle held in a giggle until Merida was out of earshot.

As the sky went from dark blue to black Belle and Merida ensconced themselves in the cozy meadow. They didn’t say much to each other beyond pleasantries. There wasn’t much to say; they knew their mission, and were too exhausted to continue exchanging stories.

They quickly realized neither of them had any supplies, and Belle wished she had snagged something from the depraved peddler she had met a day ago. He had run so far from her with such horror it wasn’t like he was going to come back and reclaim his possessions.

She supposed it would be alright. They didn’t need blankets or a fire given that the air was muggy and warm tonight. She had experienced winters in this part of the Enchanted Forest, so she thanked her good fortune that she had been dumped at the tail end of spring. Though it might have been nice to have a pillow to rest her head on. 

Belle smoothed and cleared the ground below her before lying down. A few yards to her left Merida lay with her arms behind her head and her sword at her side.

The ground was hard and damp. Belle fondly imagined herself in the soft warm bed in Gold’s mansion as she pulled her cloak tightly around her. Her mind drifted to Gold and her together, his arms around her, soft and safe and loving. She sighed wistfully. She would never take silk sheets and feather pillows for granted again.

As much as she was grateful for Merida’s company because it meant she did not have to be alone with Dark One Downer, she still missed Rumple terribly. She began to wonder if she’d ever see him again. Her mission to find Merlin and to end the darkness was straightforward, but that didn’t include a reunion. She could only hope that after Merlin helped her remove the darkness he would also help her find her way home.

She twisted her wedding ring around her finger. It was warm and smooth against her skin, but not yet worn enough to make an indent. At least she still had that with her, not because it could remotely help her, but because it reminded her of her husband, of their vows to each other: to be honest, to be loving.

This isn’t me losing him, this is me finding him. Of course, that was all before he started lying to me, thought Belle grimly.

She was taken from her thoughts by the chorus of chirping crickets.

She looked about to see the meadow was completely peaceful aside from the crickets, burrowing rodents, and an occasional owl calling, lonely creatures of the night crying out to anyone who will listen.

Shadows danced around the trees, and Belle assured herself it was just a breeze. Merida, lying with her back to Belle, appeared to be sleeping soundly.

Belle felt a twinge of envy seeing how relaxed Merida was, slumped on her side, her shoulders rising and falling rhythmically.

How could she fall asleep so easily?

Belle looked around and wondered just how long she had been lost in her thoughts. It had to be at least near midnight. She had been so worn out, walking around the forest, she figured she would collapse the moment she had touched the ground. However, she was finding it increasingly harder to unwind and clear her mind. She turned onto her back for a few minutes, inspecting the stars.

The sky was completely dark aside from the bright shining full moon overhead and the gleaming stars. She hadn’t seen a night sky quite that magnificent since she was tracking the Yaogai. For all the wonderful comforts of the modern world, stars didn’t shine that brightly in Storybrooke, Maine.

Ever since she was whisked back to the Land Without Magic, when Mary Margaret and David cast their curse, she didn’t believe she would ever see the night sky of her homeland again. It held a beauty and magic that couldn’t be found in Storybrooke.

When she was a child, she used to spend hours before bedtime with her mother staring at the night sky, counting stars and pointing out constellations. The peaceful night sky and her mother’s serene voice lulled her to sleep without fail. She couldn’t remember the constellations anymore, but she thought if she tilted her head slightly to the right she could make out a dagger in the stars.

The Dagger!

It never occurred to her until now that she should be worried she hadn’t the faintest idea where the Dagger was. It did worry her now though. That kind of power in the wrong hands was a frightening thought. Belle had already lost so much; she didn’t want to lose her fraying self-control.

Where could it be?

Perhaps the Dark One could tell her more about the Dagger, and where she could find it, but she dismissed the idea, deciding it was best not to engage with him more than absolutely necessary. If someone had planned to use the dagger against her, they would’ve already—not the most comforting thought to go to sleep with though.

She groaned softly, careful not to wake up Merida and rolled over to her side. She closed her eyes shut and looked at the bleakness of her eyelids for a few minutes before tossing to her other side. Time was moving too slowly and gratingly, and Belle was wound up with apprehension. She couldn’t shake this uneasy feeling almost as if…

“Can’t sleep?” His high-pitched impish voice startled Belle.

She gasped, and her eyes flashed open.

The Dark One sat beside her cross-legged, staring at her excitedly with his reptilian eyes, like a child waiting for his parents to wake up on Christmas morning. He was tapping his knees and clicking his tongue against his rotting teeth.

Briefly, Belle wondered if he was just another creature of the night like the howling coyotes and chirruping crickets.

An awfully annoying creature of the night, she amended.

 “Oh!” she cried, and he sniggered unabashedly. Her surprise quickly turned to irritation. She glared up at him, slapping the ground beneath her and shifting her aching body with a frown as she sat up. “I might sleep a lot better if you weren’t watching me!”

He pulled a face of mock remorse before shedding it for something subtler.

She wondered if he might summon a pillow for her like he did when she lived in the dungeons of his castle in the Enchanted Forest.

No, she answered for herself.

Rumplestiltskin had given her the pillow, not the Dark One. He would probably take pleasure in her distress.

Any amenities she wanted she would have to use dark magic for herself, and she wasn’t willing to pay the price for a soft cushion to lie her head on. She could handle a stiff neck for a night if it meant not giving in to the darkness.

A crack coming from the dark shadows startled her, and she looked around warily for lurkers.

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of the dark, dearie.” 

“No!”

Silent moments of the Dark One frowning at her dragged by before she couldn’t take it anymore. ”Do you have anything remotely nice to say to me?”

Belle waited for the inevitable cheeky, “of course not!” but it didn’t come.

Instead, the Dark One appeared to study her.

Finally, he twisted his mouth into a clever grin. “You have irradiant eyes.”

“Thank you,” Belle said defensively, and she crossed her arms across her chest. She knew her eyes were beautiful. Rumple had told her so once.

“You have a spark that I have not seen in…” —he appeared to struggle to find the right words, looking up at the stars before turning his attention back to Belle— ”…well in a long time.”

How long is a long time for an immortal? Would he tell her?

Belle lowered her arms. Perhaps this was her opportunity to gain more insight into the darkness. She sat up a bit more, giving up on sleep for the time being.

“Are you referring to Rumple’s predecessor, Zoso?”

He raised his eyebrows, apparently impressed she would know that.

 He shook his head. “No, no this was long before Zoso came to possess the power. Besides, he was always weak.”

“Who was it then?”

“Who was she?” he corrected. “Nimue.” He breathed her name. If it was possible for the Dark One to speak deferentially, he did so now. “She was remarkable—fierce and driven, very much like you, dearie.” He lifted her chin with his forefinger, guiding her up to look into his eyes.

Belle couldn’t bring herself to look away.

“Dazzling eyes. Unwavering loyalty to family. Brave. Love can be an excellent motivator, but even better is love misconstrued as something darker, like vengeance.”

“What happened to her?” Belle whispered.

He spoke detachedly, “She... couldn’t handle the darkness. In a moment of weakness, she relinquished her control to another. You will be different.” He held her face delicately between his hands. “You and me together, dearie, we’d be unstoppable.”

Belle jerked her head away from his grip.

“I don’t want to be unstoppable. I just want to be me.”

“And who are you then?”

“I’m a hero,” Belle said plainly.

He pressed his lips together. “We’ll see.”

Belle sat up and found herself staring at her fidgety hands in her lap, trying to deter his attention and focus on something more pleasant. It didn’t work.

“You need a hobby, something to take your mind off all the terrible things you’re going to do. Do you like knitting?” he quipped.

Belle snapped her head back up at him. He looked suspiciously like a cat teasing a mouse. It irked her.

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m doing just fine! I’m helping Merida," she countered. "And, when she’s done with the wisp it’ll be my turn.”

His expression was no less amused in response to her raised chin and pouty lips.

“The wisp isn’t a toy you can share. She can’t just give it to you. The person who whispers to it becomes its owner, forever.”

Forever?

“So, if I let her use it I can never use it?”

“Not while her heart beats,” he hissed.

Belle sucked in a breath and looked over to where Merida still slept soundly.

“You…want me to take it for myself?”

“I want you to start behaving like a Dark One!” he growled.

Belle gasped. It was starting to make sense.

“You knew this would happen! That’s why you led me to her. You wanted me to betray Merida.”

He didn’t answer, just smiled knowingly.

Belle felt the pressing demands of the darkness weighing down on her. She couldn’t hurt Merida like that. Merida was her only friend out here; besides, she needed the wisp too. The nagging feeling that there was no way everyone would come out happy ate away at her. She might have to make a difficult choice, and, in the absence of all the things that gave her hope, she didn’t know what to do.

“Perhaps I could distract you from the darkness?” he said, picking up right where her thoughts had left off. He lightly ran his finger over his bronze-gold lips and batted his eyes. His stark pink tongue darted out, and he licked his lips hungrily as he leered at her.

Honestly, couldn’t she go one night without someone propositioning her?

She wasn’t sure if he was mocking her for her earlier fiasco, or if he was genuinely interested in her, but she had had enough of it.

“Why, you twisted little imp!”

He was completely unperturbed by her insult and continued on pleasantly.

“I’m the Dark One, dearie. I’m the master of corrupt thoughts.” He waved her affronted scowl away. “And need I remind you I live inside your head. These thoughts are just as much mine as yours.”

Belle was sure if there was enough light in the meadow he would see her blushing bright red. Perhaps he didn’t have to; the look in his glowing cat-like eyes told her he knew her far better than she thought he did, perhaps better than she knew herself.

He licked his lips slowly, and his slit amber eyes grew into wide coal-like orbs. A shiver ran down the length of Belle’s spine, and her blood ran cold, pumping quickly through her veins. She considered looking for an escape, but she was paralyzed by his dark eyes.

The heat in her face made her all the more aware of his cold gaunt fingers when he reached out to gently stroke her cheek. Such an affectionate gesture seemed at odds with his pitiless nature, and Belle was too stunned to react at first. His face had at some point moved closer, so he was only a few inches from her. Something about him was so familiar and welcoming.

She felt drawn to him as if by gravity itself. She unconsciously turned her lips in. If she leaned just a bit closer she could almost…

No!

She quickly snapped back and looked away, her heart racing and an intense shameful heat filling her. She reminded herself he only looked like Rumplestiltskin. That was all. This was wrong.

She looked over her shoulder to make sure Merida wasn’t overhearing any of this, and she sighed in relief when she saw she was still fast asleep, letting out soft snores with each exhale.

Belle turned her head back just in time to hear the Dark One when he spoke softly again, “Are you sure you don’t want companionship? The ground looks awfully hard, dearie, and you’ve still some hours to go before day breaks.”

“I can sleep well enough on my own, thank you!”

He snickered cruelly. “The Dark One doesn’t sleep. I thought you might have known that being the wife of one.”

Rumplestiltskin didn’t sleep?

She supposed she should have known that. She realized he was always awake when she fell asleep, and usually he had already dressed and made breakfast by the time she woke up. She could count on one hand the times she had actually seen him appear to sleep in bed. Occasionally, he spun in the middle of the night, but she guessed it was a dark magic addiction combined with the calming activity to lull him off again. Not that he would not sleep at all. Not that the spinning itself could have some other purpose.

He truly didn’t need sleep then? Never?

“He never told me…” Belle trailed off, trying to rationalize how she could’ve been oblivious to that.

Why wouldn’t he mention that?

What did he do during the long nights while sleep claimed her and left him out in the cold?

“You never asked.”

“Well, I—"

“You didn’t even notice. You sleep with a man for how many months and don’t notice that he isn’t asleep beside you?”

Belle shook her head. “I just didn’t think—“

“No, you didn’t. You didn’t think at all. You knew he spun straw throughout the night. You even knew why.”

Belle had an unbidden memory of Rumplestiltskin spinning straw in his castle while she drew the curtains:

“Why do you spin so much?”

He paused in his work and turned to regard her.

Belle stopped her housework. “Sorry, it’s just, you’ve spun straw into more gold than you could ever spend.”

“I like to watch the wheel.” He turned it slowly, and she watched the mesmerizing spokes rotate. “Helps me forget.”

He spun to forget. Forget the darkness? Forget the lonely nights and dark deeds? Forget the pain and suffering? Forget his guilt and regrets?

She felt as if she was just now solving a mystery far too late for it to do any good and too slow to make it any kind of achievement. She felt naïve. Did she really need the Dark One to open her eyes to what was always there? Maybe it was intentional on the Dark One’s part that she should face her mistakes here, in the darkness, alone, without an outlet to comfort her.

He did seem to blossom under the resolute light of the full moon. He grew taller as he covered the moonlight, and Belle couldn’t help but shrink beneath his shadow.

“He tried to be honest with you, but you wouldn’t listen,” he continued menacingly. “It was just never enough for you. You forced him to tell all of his secrets, to empty his heart out in front of you, to satisfy your sick curiosity.”

His gentle tone from just a few moments before was gone like a flick of a switch. All affection and softness were gone. His tone was malicious and accusatory, and Belle was wholly unprepared for such a direct attack from the Dark One.

She felt tears brim in her eyes even as she fought to not let him upset her.

He didn’t understand. It wasn’t about her curiosity. It was about trust and honest communication with each other. That’s all she’d ever asked. But the Dark One wouldn’t let her explain that.

“That’s not true! I love Rumple, but—"

“But that wasn’t enough, was it? You insisted he stop spinning because ‘magic is bad.’ That magic, that harmless spinning of gold, was the only thing keeping his mind off the darkness at night. It was the only thing bringing him comfort since he obviously wouldn’t get it from the likes of you. That magic is what ended your Ogres War. He needed that magic to find his only son, the light of his life. Perhaps magic wasn’t the thing ruining his life.”

Belle gasped. It was like he slapped her in the face. Actually, that pain might have hurt less. Her face burned with insulted outrage, and she jumped to argue with him.

“How can you say that? He’s my husband!”

“Yes, and Anna was your friend, but it wasn’t too hard for you to leave her to die in the dirt when you had something to gain. Is it that much of a stretch for you to betray Merida now?”

“I made a mistake with Anna, and I did everything I could to fix it. I’m not going to rip out Merida’s heart! I’m not a- a murderer!”

“Oh ho, ho! I think your late fiancé might beg to differ,” he chortled impishly. “Awfully convenient, he’s too dead to argue.”

“Gaston? What does he have to do with this?”

“The rose you cut in the castle, that was Gaston,” he said plainly as if it were obvious. He ignored the shock on Belle’s face, tumbling his hands dramatically. “He made a rather feeble rescue attempt, and I punished him by turning him into a flower. You just finished the job by trimming and arranging it.”

His grin and his words tore at Belle’s insides.

“Inspiring work, that.”

“What?!”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t know deep down inside, that you didn’t revel in hurting the man who would’ve taken your freedom.” His fidgeting stopped as he pointed an accusing finger at her. “That you don’t still wish to rid yourself of the thing tying you down: lashed to the village beast.”

“No! I would never want to lose Rumple. I just didn’t know—"

“No, of course you didn’t. If knowledge is power, then ignorance is weakness, and you’re as weak as they come, dearie.” He snarled at her, and she attempted to brace herself for what would surely be a devastating tirade. “You’re stupid and foolish, but you demanded answers anyway instead of just trusting him! Some ‘partner’ you are. Why would you question him?"

“I couldn’t let him use magic for ill.”

“Do you think you’re the judge of who gets to use magic or not? Telling him how to use dark magic as if you would know better,” he scoffed at her. “He lived hundreds of years managing the darkness, and you came in to tell him he was doing it wrong. You can barely manage dark magic for two nights!”

“I-I’m sorry.”

“When you needed forgiveness, he granted it eagerly, but you constantly condemned him.”

“Please, please stop!”

“You’re a terrible wife!” he barked. “What you’ve shown isn’t love. You’re unloving and undeserving.”

Belle bit her lip to eschew tears and avoid retorting.

He cocked his head at her.

“Hasn’t he suffered enough without you preventing him from doing the one thing that could bring him comfort at night?”

“I never meant to—"

“Hurt him? You controlled him with the dagger!” he spat.

“He gave that to me!”

“Yes, because he trusted you. Trust which was obviously misplaced. You should have never used it against him. Especially not to assuage your selfish guilt at leaving Anna to die. You stripped him of his free will! He needed to be supported and loved and protected, and instead you enslaved and commanded him and even struck him with the dagger. Do you know what it’s like to become an object of compulsion? To lose all control and be at the total mercy of another? I expect you’ll find out.”

What does that mean?

“You used the dagger as a means to control your beloved, to make him do your bidding. You abused his trust in you. Rumplestiltskin has the dagger in his possession. Wouldn’t you think he’s just itching to return the favor, dearie?”

His eyes grew even darker and larger with the implication.

Could that be true? Does Rumplestiltskin have the Dark One Dagger?

It was so hard to tell when the Dark One was lying or telling the truth. The truth was nothing but a method for him, putty to be stretched, thinned, and warped as he molded it with his deft hands to fit his narrative—a sticky putty that clung to you, muffling the light as it mended its holes seamlessly, trapping you in the goo forever.

To Belle, the truth was a puzzle, a never-ending mystery that became clearer the more information you gathered and would eventually become one large cohesive glossy picture that you could hang on your wall and smile at as you walked past. But, it was difficult to assemble things with the few pieces the Dark One offered her, and as she carried the armful of mismatched puzzle pieces, she struggled to put things together in a way that satisfied her. She could feel the pieces slipping through her fingers with each passing moment, and it frightened her.

Still, it did make sense. The last she saw of the Dagger was with Rumple in his shop. But, he would never use it to hurt her, would he?

“He resents you, you know. He would have done anything for you, and what did you give him in return? Expectations and rules, constant rejection. All this time away from you has only opened his eyes to your cruelties. He’s out there, plotting how to get his revenge.”

A teardrop escaped, but Belle couldn’t bring herself to catch it.

“You were only interested in what he could do for you. At least Lacey was honest in that, but you’re full of lies. You preach honesty, but you’re lying to everyone: your friends, your husband, yourself. You think you’re a hero, but you can be corrupted by dark power just as anyone else.”

“If he had just been honest with me and kept his vows…” she said weakly.

“You want to talk about vows? You were the first to betray them! You swore to never stop fighting for him, but that was a lie. You banished him across the town line from the only life he knew, the life he built in Storybrooke to protect and care for himself because no one else would. Without magic, he suffered for weeks, cursing your name! He was helpless without his magic, limping and crippled.”

Belle began to openly weep at the image his words created.

“And why? Because he tried to cleave himself from a dagger that enslaved him? A dagger that corrupts and kills. A dagger that almost forced him to kill you.”

Belle rubbed a fist roughly against her cheek to clear the unstoppable tears. She had no more words left to say.

“If you had helped him with the dagger, the darkness wouldn’t have consumed him, and you wouldn’t have needed to take it yourself.” He paused and spoke in a low voice. “Unless, that was always your plan, to take the power anyway you could.

Don’t you find it curious that in a book where all the villains are heroes, and all the heroes are suffering that you were happy? You were happy while all the heroes were miserable. You need to look at yourself in the mirror and figure out who you really are. “

Belle shook her head so quickly that she thought she could feel her brain being battered helplessly against her skull.

It can’t be true. Please, no more, she thought because she could no longer provide an answer to his belittlements.

“You aren’t a hero. You never were.”

“B-but I saved my people.”

“Is that why you made the deal? Or was it because you wanted freedom? Freedom from a loveless marriage and freedom from an oppressive father all under the guise of being a hero. None of that heroics mattered to you as much as your own wants.”

“I- I- I— “

“Is that all you can say? You, you, you. That’s all you care about.”

"Shut up!" Belle yelled.

He actually did. The utter silence that followed her outburst was enough to make Belle look up at him.

“This is who you are, dearie. Give in. It’s so much easier to give in to your darkness.”

It was like a dam had been filling up with water inside her these last few days. The pressure had been building. Every time he prodded her there was a small crack somewhere deep inside where the sun couldn’t reach. But tonight, all the cracks came together, her walls crumbled, and the water overflowed her, threatening to drown her from the inside out.

He was right about everything!

She could see it clearly now. And, accepting that it was in her nature to be hateful and sad was surprisingly like a weight being lifted. like she didn’t have to pretend anymore.

She wasn’t a hero. She was conniving, selfish, cowardly, unlovable, and unloving— a terrible wife. She didn’t deserve Rumplestiltskin’s love. She didn’t deserve anything.

“I’m a terrible wife, I’m a terrible wife, I’m a terrible wife,” Belle whimpered.

Her sobbing combined with the Dark One’s cackling created a strange call echoing in the trees. A distressed creature of the night crying out in anguish.

Chapter 10: Dig Deep

Summary:

Rumplestiltskin finds strength in allies and faces Zelena.

Mr. Gold’s black Cadillac rolled into the parking lot behind Storybrooke Hospital.

He never wanted to see a hospital or Zelena again, but here he was willingly going to both twice in the course of one day. The thought made his stomach roil.

After Henry had left the diner, Rumplestiltskin paid their tab and went to the shop to prepare to face Zelena once again.

He couldn’t risk her being anywhere near Belle’s dagger should something go wrong. He stored the dagger in the blood-sealed lockbox behind the front counter and replaced it with the fake dagger from before. Eerily, the fake still displayed his name though he doubted anyone would be close enough to notice.

It felt both familiar and deeply uncomfortable as he put it into the inner lining of his jacket. He felt dirty carrying it again because it reminded him not only of his dark curse but his deceit to Belle. He just couldn’t seem to relinquish the dagger even when he wanted to. He never should have lied to Belle like that. Though he wasn’t bothered by deceiving Zelena, he comforted himself with the knowledge that he wouldn’t lie to Belle ever again.

He buttoned up his jacket with steady hands. He was still the slight spinner he’d always been despite a few more scars and wrinkles. He straightened his tie. He never concerned himself with mirrors until he came to Storybrooke. Milah and he could never afford a vanity, and the Dark One wouldn’t tolerate mirrors of any sort. Nothing should remind him he was once an ordinary man. He smoothed the creases out of his jacket and pulled the sleeves even.

Perhaps it was vain, but it was easier to face his reflection now when he resembled something closer to what an actual man should look like. That, and Regina no longer had a reason to spy on him through reflective glass. 

With less than 15 minutes left before the intended meeting, Rumple decided to get on the road. Storybrooke Hospital was only a couple of miles away, but he didn’t want to be late for Henry. Not only is punctuality important in all dealings, but he feared Henry might do something rash if he didn’t show up on time. The boy had been so enthusiastic earlier despite Rumple’s reluctance. He was too bold for his own good. 

Rumple was curious what Henry’s big epiphany had been that made him rush out of the diner. Maybe it had something to do with that book of fairytales he constantly carried in his backpack. Perhaps this was an author scheme?

Rumple dismissed that idea, remembering how adamant Henry was against using his author power. Henry was a smart lad, creative too. But, they would need to be especially crafty in dealing with Zelena.

He parked his car behind some dumpsters. He didn’t relish the idea of walking all the way to the hospital from there, and the parking lot wasn’t even half filled, but he didn’t want to risk someone recognizing his car and alerting Emma.

Regina does have eyes everywhere, he thought as he looked around the lot cautiously.

Stepping out of his car, he was looking around for Henry when he spotted something unexpected.

Henry stood in a shaded area by the back exit holding a walkie talkie in his right hand and Merlin’s wand in his left.

He was talking to Killian Jones of all people.

Rumple’s nose wrinkled at the smell of rotting garbage and the image of his foe with his grandson. Both provoked the same reaction. The sight irked him, and he slammed the door before storming over.

“Grandpa, you made it!” Henry passed a walkie talkie to the leather-clad pirate.

“Yes, and what is he doing here, Henry?” Rumple regarded Hook with disdain.

“He’s here to help.”

“Help? You do realize this man tried to kill Belle?”

“In my defense I only did it to get under your skin.” 

“Oh, I see,” Rumple snapped back sarcastically.

“Besides, I’ve apologized to Belle for that,” Hook said with a shrug. He looked around impatiently. “Perhaps this is my way of making amends. Can we get a move on now?”

“Technically, Hook has more clearance since he’s been a part of the hero team longer than you. He’s already been in on the operations,” Henry pointed out, which only made Rumple angrier.

“What?!” he fumed. “Henry. It’s because of this man that Baelfire grew up without a mother!”

“And, it’s because of you that he grew up without a father,” Hook sneered. He took a step forward.

Rumple met him with a step of his own and a snarl.

“You have to stop fighting and start working together!” Henry said, standing between them before a brawl could break out.

Henry’s words somehow connected with something inside Rumple and Hook, and they both were subdued to silence.

As he glared at Hook, Rumple realized that he and the pirate had been maintaining a long-standing feud over a long dead woman who neither really harbored significant feelings for anymore. But, this wasn’t really about Milah. This was about Hook repeatedly trying to take Rumple’s life and all that he held dear, and Rumple’s rather unsavory retaliations.

Perhaps it was time to turn over a new leaf with the pirate. Everyone else seemed to like him, so there must be something to his charm that Rumple didn’t see. Besides, Hook was here to help Belle. Whatever else, Rumple knew better than to look a gift horse in the hook.

“Fine, truce,” he said, and he extended his hand.

Hook gave him a dubious look.

“The last time we called truce you tied me to the fence outside of the Sorcerer’s Mansion with a garden hose and ripped my heart out.”

“After you blackmailed me, and threatened my marriage. Times have changed apparently. If you truly have my wife’s best interests at heart….then… I harbor no ill will toward you.”

“I’m going to need to go on a bit more than your current feelings.”

Rumple sighed, dropping his hand and shifting his footing. “Not that I’m in any position to anyway right now, but should you agree to help Belle and not harm either of us, I will not hurt you or your own, Captain.”

“Fair enough,” said Hook, and they shook hands.

“At the very least I’ll come up with something less suburban next time,” Rumple quipped as Hook withdrew with a flinch.

Henry beamed at their truce.

“Actually, we all have something in common. Something that should make us want to work together.”

“We’re not opposed to working behind your mothers’ backs?” Rumple asked.

A moment of quiet passed as they seemed to internally acknowledge this. Rumple wasn’t terribly concerned with obeying the wishes of Storybrooke’s sheriff and mayor. He preferred to work around the red tape anyway. He could tell Henry and Hook feared the consequences of this secret mission though.

They looked at one another, coming to a tacit agreement that it was in their best interests to continue to keep it in the dark.

“Well, yes, but that’s not what I meant," Henry clarified after a moment, clearing his throat awkwardly to draw attention away from the blatant illicitness of the current operation. “We all cared for my dad, Baelfire." He looked from scowling Hook to brooding Rumple. "And I know he wouldn’t want us fighting like this, especially when we could be doing something to save Belle and stop Zelena.”

Rumple checked his watch. It was nearly six. The sun would be setting soon. They should start doing something. He rolled down his jacket sleeve again and looked up. “Alright, Henry, I assume you have a plan?”

Henry had a very rough outline of a plan, and it took both men’s input and a fair bit of bickering to come up with a satisfactory scheme that they could all agree on.

Hook preferred to move and fight fast, and he didn’t want to be slowed by Rumple. Still, he knew Storybrooke’s streets quite well at this point and could move stealthily. Besides, he preferred working alone at times. So, they sent Hook off to Gold’s shop to retrieve an important item for the mission at hand.

Rumple swore he would avoid the hospital at all costs if he could, which is why Henry insisted he go back to the asylum.

Claiming he knew the hospital quite well from when his class visited on volunteer days, Henry promised to go with him, though Rumple suspected Henry also wanted to look out for his grandfather.

Rumple couldn’t shake the worry that whatever came over him earlier in the day would do so again when he saw Zelena in the hospital context. It would be even worse to collapse in front of Henry who had missed the episode earlier and had only the barebones description Rumple could muster.

Beyond all his worries, he couldn’t help feeling a bit excited to work alongside the boy whom he knew to be clever and resourceful. The last time he had worked hard on a mission like this was when he teamed up with Isaac, Cruella, Ursula, and Maleficent.

Working with villains was so different. Backstabbing happened frequently, and failure was practically inevitable, leaving allies mistrustful and bitter. And, calling them allies was a bit of a stretch since they were about as loyal as a piece of lint and half as useful.

Teaming up with Henry was just nicer. He was fresh and hopeful, so confident in his convictions that it was hard not to get carried along with them. Henry would never betray Rumplestiltskin because he genuinely believed in the righteousness of the mission. Likewise, he cared too much about Henry to put him in any real danger. It was less that they had a common goal in mind and more an understanding in heart.

There was still a bit of excitement in doing something you weren’t supposed to. Adrenaline not so different to when Rumplestiltskin makes deals coursed through him. It wasn’t exactly dark power, but it was a suitable substitute to the heady feeling of manipulating magic.

Rumple was less enthusiastic about the prospect of working with Killian Jones.

“Are you sure this is even going to work?” Hook asked. “What if Zelena can’t really make a portal with Merlin’s wand?”

“It’s risky, I’ll admit,” Rumple replied. “But, that’s why we’re doing this and not someone like Emma. For what it’s worth, I think Zelena was telling the truth earlier.”

“You think?” Hook repeated.

“Rumplestiltskin was her mentor, “ Henry reminded them. “You know magic and Zelena better than either of us.”

“Well, I wasn’t in the best position to go lie-detecting earlier. It’s not like we have any other options though.“ He paused and looked from Hook to Henry, addressing them both. “If any part of you is unsure about going through with this, then you better rid yourselves of those doubts now because I need you to do your part for the plan to work.”

Henry nodded. “I’m all in, Grandpa.”

Rumple looked to Hook who sighed but nodded reluctantly. “Whatever disaster may come of this, I’m in too, Crocodile.”

“It’s a good plan. It will work,” Henry assured them.

Rumple admired his grandson’s confidence. Rumple couldn’t remember the last time he did something so hopelessly reckless.

“Alright, if we know what we have to do, let’s not waste more time,” Rumple said.

When all was said and done, they split up, and Rumple was walking back through the hospital halls with Henry at as brisk a pace as they could keep.

Henry had snagged Merlin’s wand from Regina who was stashing it in her vault despite her inability to use it. Tentatively, he gave it to Rumple who tucked it into his suit pocket for safekeeping. It wasn’t as though Rumple could use it without magic, nor could Zelena unless they took off her cuff. Rumple added a bit of levity anyway for Henry’s sake.

“I will endeavor not to blow us off the map,” he joked, but Henry looked even more concerned.

“Just be careful, Grandpa. I trust you.”

Those last words made Rumple wince. It was easier to be rejected than it was to be trusted. If people expected the worst from you, it was hard to disappoint. You could save the day, or you could just as much make things worse, and no one would be affected. But, trust made him nervous. Belle trusted him, and look how that turned out. Henry’s trust meant he expected something good to come from Rumple, and Rumple’s experience told him the boy was wrong. 

Where did Henry get the idea he could trust Rumplestiltskin anyway? Certainly not from Hook. Rumple had given him no reason to have faith in him. In fact, he’d given several reasons to be wary of him. Yet, here Henry was placing trust on him, and it scared him.

As they walked down the halls, they kept an eye out for cameras and suspicious-looking personnel with Henry checking each hall before giving an "all clear" to Rumple.

Rumple felt a nervous energy bubbling up inside him in anticipation of what they were about to do. There was still so much unknown. He couldn’t see the future anymore. He couldn’t predict the outcome of their mission.

“Are you sure we can trust him?” Rumple asked. He didn’t have to clarify whom he was talking about.

“Yes. Killian is trustworthy and reliable in a fight,” Henry replied automatically.

“Humph. Not the Killian Jones I know.“

“Well, anyone can change,” Henry said, giving Rumple a knowing look.

Rumple looked away.

Before either of them could consider Henry’s words too closely, he changed the subject.

“What’s the plan for getting into the asylum, Henry?” He eyed the key-code pads on restricted hospital doors.

“Do you know the Wookie Prisoner Gag?”

“The what?”

“You know, from Star Wars.”

“Henry, I appreciate your dedication, but let’s first stop Zelena and then deal with Mother Superior and her flock of self-righteous moths.”

“Oh, oh no, that isn’t what I meant at all!” Henry rushed to say as he blanched. “Um, never mind. We’ll think of something else.”

“I have some thoughts about what to do once we’re in the asylum, but first we need to figure out how to get in.” Rumple said. “There’s a keypad on the door, and I’m not sure what the code is.”

“Oh, leave that to me.” Henry smiled as color returned to his face. “My mom’s good with magic, not so much with passwords. She uses my birthday for everything.”

“Oh? good to know.” Rumple produced a half-smirk.

All these years Madam Mayor has been keeping the same passwords for her little town? And her only son’s birthday, at that!

He thought she was smarter than that. The chaos he could have caused if he had known that a few years ago. Though he supposed it wasn’t too late. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t itching to open confidential files on her computer or even just to access town records from during the curse. There had to be something scandalous there, excellent leverage for the future should he need it.

Henry saw Rumple’s wayward expression and stopped him before he could get ahead in plotting.

“No, Grandpa,” he said firmly, erasing Rumple’s grin with two words and dashing his conniving daydream. “You’re one of the heroes now. You can’t use that information for evil.”

“Fine,” Rumple muttered with a frown. Though he didn't agree with Henry about him being a hero, he didn't have the heart to correct him. Besides, what need would he have for leverage if he got Belle back?

“So, what is your idea for once we get into the asylum?” Henry asked.

“Do you drink coffee Henry?” Rumple asked cryptically as they approached the front lobby waiting room where a rather stinting coffee machine awaited.

“I prefer hot chocolate. My mom says caffeine works me up. She says I have enough energy.”

Rumple bit back a smile. That was perhaps a wise decision.

“Don’t you think that nurse at the asylum entrance with the tight face could use some? She is a bit dour.”

Indeed, the woman was irritable though he doubted a cup of cheap hospital coffee could fix that, but it might provide a worthwhile distraction.

Henry opened his mouth as if to respond, but then he seemed to understand the depth of Rumplestiltskin’s plan and he nodded and smiled slyly back at him. Well, as slyly as Henry could smile with hope and imagination shedding off of him like rays of sunshine.

Rumple bought Henry a coffee from the vending machine though he had to bang the broken thing a few times for it to come out. Modern inventions seemed to find him disagreeable.

Henry carefully picked up the full cup from the vending machine, lifting it to his chest and letting the steam warm his face.

“Mmm,” he said almost dreamily as Rumple watched with amusement.

He checked the order.

“Decaf?”

“It’s already evening. I don’t want to keep her up all night.” Henry placed a plastic top on the coffee.

“That’s very thoughtful of you, but she won’t actually be drinking it.”

“Oh.”

“Are you ready to go now?”

“No! We have to wait for it to cool. It could burn her.”

Rumple wouldn’t have minded if the lady who presided over Belle’s imprisonment for 28 years should happen to get a first-degree burn, but he could tell Henry would not budge on this matter. It would be faster to let the coffee cool than to argue with his stubborn grandson. Besides, it was the right thing to do. No one should get hurt in his mission to save Belle.

After they waited a few minutes, they walked to the innocuous asylum entrance. During the curse, Mr. Gold believed this was a storage closet or perhaps a more direct route to the dumpsters. Had he known what lay behind this door…well, things would have turned out very differently.

Henry punched the passcode in and swung the heavy door open. Rumple grabbed it and held it until they were both inside. They walked down the stairs together. Then, Rumple waited just outside the next door for the distraction. He could see only a little through the latticed glass window.

He watched Henry walk up to the front desk.

“Hey, Nurse Ratched, I thought you might li-“ he pretended to lose his grip on the Styrofoam cup and dumped the coffee onto her desk and over her papers, staining her white nurse’s uniform, and she gasped.

“Oh!” said Henry.

Rumple chuckled softly at the boy’s abysmal acting.

“Henry!” reprimanded the nurse. She stood up knocking her swivel chair back and examined the mess on her paperwork and clothes with disgust. She looked tempted to react more viciously to Henry but probably couldn’t, knowing her employer was his mother. Then, she glared at something around the corner. “You, with the mop! A little help!”

A tall brooding Native American man slowly shifted towards her, rolling a mop in a bucket on wheels with him.

When the nurse turned around and groaned at the mess, Rumple made his move, sticking close to the wall and hiding behind Henry who was standing over her watching her bemoan the trashed paperwork.

“I-I’m so sorry,” Henry stammered, holding his hands up innocently. "It was— I’m so sorry.”

In one swift motion, Rumple lifted the keys from their hook on the cement wall and pocketed them. He locked eyes with the stoic custodian with the haunted eyes, and it sent a shiver down his spine.

The man raised a finger to his lips, and Rumple nodded his understanding.

He could only imagine what kind of horrors that man had seen down here.

He slipped around the corner and kept a hand skimming the wall, so he wouldn’t have to use his cane and risk the noise tipping off the nurse or warning Zelena.

He walked to her cell, unlocked it, and swung it open. Thankfully, she wasn’t doing something as banal as yoga or meditation or whatever trite self-care she pretended to be doing when they last intruded on her.

Self-care from the woman who traumatized half the people of Storybrooke, he bristled.

He didn’t let his anger seep into his words though. This time he would keep his cool or so help him—

“Hello, Zelena.” He leaned against the door frame. She looked up with her piercing aqua eyes and had the audacity to smile.

“Oh, the heroes must be truly desperate to send you. What are you now, their squire?” she said with a moue of annoyance, but he could tell she was pleased he was there.

“The heroes didn’t send me. Emma doesn’t even know I’m here,” he replied, walking closer and carefully closing the door behind him.

That piqued her interest and she stood up from the bench.

“Ooh, little Rumple going to save the day, defeat the Wicked Witch all by himself?”

He clenched his jaw in an effort to hold in a snide retort. He couldn’t let her mocking derail him.

“You said you could use Merlin’s wand to take us to Belle,” he said, and he stepped closer in an attempt to intimidate her.

Zelena didn’t retreat, so he was forced to stop.

“I can. Do you have it?”

Rumplestiltskin pulled it out of his pocket, and her eyes lit up.

“Wonderful! I am impressed,” she praised with a wide smile, although her tone suggested it was the kind of "impressed" you get when an old dog successfully goes outside, not for stealing an ancient magical weapon from one of the most powerful individuals in town.

He looked down at the wand and up to Zelena to see her beaming. He matched her joy with a scowl of his own. The hardest part of this was seeing that damned sneer of hers.

“Now all you have to do is take off the cuff,” she said, cheerfully extending her arm.

Pretending to ponder her request, he shifted his cane and cocked his head.

“How do I know that you won’t just take the wand and use it for your own purposes?”

Zelena shrugged, not at all discouraged by his hesitancy. “You don’t, but I’m still your best chance of finding Belle. That is why you came here, isn’t it? If you’re not going to take off the cuff you’re just wasting both our time,” she said as if she had somewhere much more important to be, and he narrowed his eyes.

“I just want to make sure I can trust you, that you won’t do anything unexpected.”

Zelena wrapped her arms around her growing stomach. “On my unborn child’s life,” she crooned softly and looked up at him from under her eyelashes.

It was an act, and he could easily see through Zelena’s fake innocence.

He snorted and shook his head.

Zelena sighed. “We both know nothing I do will convince you I’m trustworthy. The real question is… are you going to let your fear of me prevent you from seeing Belle again?”

Her words made him furious. With a growl, he grabbed her wrist, pulling back the sleeve of her sweater and yanking her closer.

She went willingly, almost shaking in anticipation.

He snarled, and then ripped the black leather cuff off her slender arm.

No sooner had he done so, then Zelena blasted him with her magic. A green shockwave slammed him against the wall.

He grunted at the force of it and felt blunt pain in his head and back where his body connected with the unforgiving cement wall. Unable to recover quickly enough, he slumped down still leaning against the wall and glowered up at Zelena.

Zelena stood over him and sneered, and he couldn’t say he was surprised to see her take the time to mock him one last time.

Before he could get up, she snatched the cuff from his fingers and incinerated it in her palm with a burst of green flame, dropping the dark ashes to the ground and clearing the soot off her fingers nonchalantly.

“You really are desperate,” she observed. “Desperate people are easy to manipulate. You told me that once, remember?”

“Yes,” he said through gritted teeth.

Cackling, she wrenched the wand from the fingers of his other hand. She pointed the tip at him, and he couldn’t help flinching and raising an arm over his face in defense. She laughed.

“I might kill you right now and wipe your miserable stain right off the Earth if I wasn’t so desperate to get out of here myself. You see, I have a trip of my own to make. Toodles!” She waved and disappeared in a puff of emerald smoke, leaving Rumple groaning on the floor, empty-handed.

As he used his cane to heave himself off the ground, the sound of sneakers squeaking on polished linoleum grew louder.

Henry came running down the hallway and opened the door quickly.

“Grandpa! Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Rumplestiltskin said, kneeling.

Henry extended a hand, but Rumple didn’t take it as he stood up and pressed his weight into the cane.

“I heard a crash and got here as soon as I could.”

Finally upright, Rumple smoothed his slacks and pushed his hair out of his face, pretending he hadn’t just been thrown against a wall by the Wicked Witch. “Zelena knocked me over as soon as I took off the cuff. I need to get to her.”

Henry nodded. “I’ll come with you.”

“No! Stick to the plan. Contact Hook, and tell him we need his help now. And, call your mothers too. Tell them Zelena’s escaped. Meet me outside the clocktower when you can.”

She would have to be near the clocktower. It was an open area and the zenith of Storybrooke’s magical energy, the ideal spot to cast such a powerful spell. And Zelena was definitely in a rush to cast it.

Henry nodded again, and Rumple brushed past him and hurried out of the hospital as fast as he could.

Outside, the darkening sky rumbled, and the air was rancid. If he didn’t know any better he would’ve thought a terrible storm was coming and would’ve sought shelter immediately.

Unfortunately, he did know better.

The disgruntled atmosphere showed tell-tale signs of magic, an extremely powerful and unpredictable magic at that. His stomach dropped with the feeling of impending doom. The sidewalk below him trembled and cracked, but he moved with haste, holding his head up and looking straight towards his goal.

When he reached the town square, Zelena was just outside the clocktower, waving the Sorcerer’s wand above her head and summoning a fearsome green twister. She was so focused on her task that she didn’t see him approach at first. When she did, she stopped casting and sneered at him.

“I was never going to use the wand to take you to Belle,” she taunted. “Your mistake was letting your power and your love go, and now you have neither. But now I have both. I have the Sorcerer’s wand…”—she stroked it— “And, I have someone to love me and only me."  She placed her free hand softly over her baby bump.

Rumple’s lip curled in disgust at the Sorcerer’s wand being so near such a young baby.

“I’m unstoppable!” she gloated, throwing her head back and laughing which might’ve been a nice kodak moment if you didn’t count Rumplestiltskin and the billowing storm clouds.

At her pride, Rumple’s disgust didn’t wane.

No one is unstoppable.

What Zelena lacked in compassion she gained in hubris.

“I’m actually impressed you managed to make it out here and so quickly,” she lauded mockingly. “I didn’t think you had it in you. Unfortunately, it isn’t enough. See, this is my future, and I am not letting anyone take it from me or turn it against me,” she gritted out between clenched teeth.

The mere allusion to Robin Hood and Regina could make her flush with fury, and he wasn't sure he was imagining the ugly greenish tint to her skin.

There was such an angry fire in her eyes he couldn’t help wondering how much of this was about the baby and how much was about her own insecurity.

She wasn’t worried about the wellbeing of her child. She was worried about her own selfish need for love and validation.

 “So, I am going as far away from this town and Regina and Robin as possible: over the rainbow where no one can follow.”

Over the rainbow? As in…?

“Back to Oz?” Rumple guessed.

“I may have been feared and despised there, but at least I was free. At least I was in control.”

The Wicked Witch’s castle was no place for a child to grow and thrive. While Zelena might afford herself a perverted idea of freedom in returning to Oz, her child would suffer a miserable fate away from its family. A child wouldn’t be content cooped up in a lonely castle away from prying eyes and thrilling adventure, especially not a Mills.

Something about Zelena taking her child through a portal, so she wouldn’t lose it, struck Rumple in all the wrong nerves.

What's more important, love or control?

It came down to the age-old villain dilemma: how do you gain power and retain love? He’d never been able to choose.

“Zelena, please, you can’t do this,” he stressed, seizing the opportunity to take a few cautious steps forward. He just needed to distract her for a bit longer. “Taking the baby away from its father just because you’re afraid it’ll want to leave you is selfish and cowardly. You’re not protecting your baby out of love. You’re hiding it out of fear. You might think you’re making it love you, but hoarding and hiding it—it’s just going to make your child despise and resent you. Your child deserves to know its father just as much as its mother. Please, you have to do what’s right for your child!"

Despite Rumple’s best attempts to get through to Zelena, she seemed unbothered, as if she had already made up her mind. She was in her own world, and what he said didn’t matter.

“I am doing what’s right for my baby,” she spat and directed the wand at Rumple causing him to freeze in alarm. “And, don’t talk to me about selfishness and cowardice, Rumplestiltskin!” She yelled his name like a curse. “I know you’re projecting your pathetic failure with your son onto me, but I am different than you. I’m doing this right. I’m taking my baby away, so no one else can have it! And, there’s nothing you can do about it. “ She resumed her spell-casting.

A large bang echoed overhead, and green sparks fizzled out of the wand.

Rumple ducked.

“And, you want to know why I know you’re not going to do anything to stop me? Because at the end of the day, you’re still the same spineless spinner I locked in a cage, alone and afraid.”

Rumple flinched and trembled, lowering his head. A whimper worked its way up his throat.

She laughed.

“Don’t even think about it,” growled Rumple.

“Hmm, it’s too late for that. All it needs now is a little direction.” She grinned and pulled out a strange-looking amulet.

He recognized it as the charm she used to disguise herself as Robin Hood’s wife.

Dangling it in front of him playfully, she explained, “A trinket from home. Now, see me do what you weren’t powerful enough to do yourself!”

She held the necklace above her head and waved the wand around it in circles. It started glowing a bright green and ringing.

Rumple winced at the sheer brightness emanating from the amulet. She cast a dark green blast into the sky with a resounding boom that tore the heavens. Green fog swarmed, and lightning struck accompanied by deep thunder as black clouds rolled in from above.

Zelena basked in the terror of it all.

Suddenly Henry came running up the street from behind Rumple.

Rumple, freed from his paralysis, looked up.

Henry caught Rumple’s wide eyes with his own. ”Grandpa!” he panted, and he nodded once.

Zelena glanced at Henry briefly, but deciding he was little threat she continued her spell.

Seeing Henry and his trust and confidence in his grandfather filled Rumplestiltskin with an intense feeling, a purpose, a drive to fight. His heart swelled and pounded. Trust wasn’t a burden but a strength. There was too much at stake for Rumplestiltskin to falter now.

Rumple turned towards Zelena, stalking closer. His heeled shoes made snapping sounds on the blacktop, and his cane slapped hard with each step as he bared his teeth.

She was too preoccupied with the increasingly unstable spell to stop him approaching.

“You’re wrong!” He forced the words out in a deep voice, almost shouting over the spell. He wasn’t sure how much he believed what he said, but he couldn’t let Zelena see that. His heart was beating rapidly again, but it was a different sense of urgency than he felt before he passed out.

He said each word clearly and slowly, so she couldn’t mishear.

“I’m not alone, not anymore. And I’m not afraid of you.”

Just in time the magic exploded above Zelena and disoriented her.

“Now!” Henry shouted.

Rumple drew back his cane as if to hit Zelena, and she flinched in her weakened state, letting out an undignified hiss. Caught completely off balance, she was all but floored when Henry charged into her at the waist, knocking her back into Hook’s awaiting arms. She shrieked and squirmed as he wrapped his strong arms around her quickly, putting a new magic-inhibiting cuff around her wrist and pressing his hook to her neck.

“Hello, love,” Hook breathed into her ear. “Never did get the chance to thank you for cursing my lips.”

Zelena groaned and recoiled. “What? You two are working together?”

“As it turns out, the Captain and I have more in common than we realized,” Rumple said with a smirk as he placed both hands over the handle of his cane. “Wanting to see you lose, for instance.”

She squirmed, but it was no use against Hook's vise-like grip. She looked up at the messy sky where the magic was still brewing, and Rumple followed her gaze smugly.

“What happened?” Zelena said softly.

“What happened is I’m not stupid,” he replied, circling her. With Zelena subdued, Rumple took a step closer and spat out, “I knew you could open that portal, but I also knew it would weaken you.” He plucked the wand from her hands, then shook it at her reproachfully. “One lesson you still haven’t quite learned from me, dearie"—he pointed it at her neck, and she stretched to look away—"all magic comes with a price. We’re gonna take your portal, but we’re not taking it to Oz. We’re taking it to Belle.”

Rumple heaved a huge sigh of relief and felt the tension in his shoulders ease as his heart fought to slow down. He could scarcely believe it. They won.

Zelena, having only her mouth as a weapon, shouted spiteful platitudes that fell on deaf ears. “This isn’t over!”

Hook nodded at Rumple and Henry, who had returned to Rumple’s side.

“I’ll deal with her and meet you at the shop,” he said, and Rumple nodded.

“Thank you, f-for your help,” Rumple told him.

“Of course.” Hook smirked. “I’m always in it for a good bit of revenge.” He pressed the point of his hook into Zelena’s neck again, enough to cause pain but not break the skin. Then, he dragged a petulant Zelena away with him.

When Rumple turned back around, Henry was smiling wide at him. Henry hugged him. “You did it, Grandpa! You did good!”

“I—I did.”

Rumple was speechless for a moment. It all seemed too good to be true. He had faced Zelena, stood up to her, and emerged victorious. Though there was no denying how much help he received to do so, and his battles had only just begun, it felt good to win one.

Henry pointed at the spell clouds filling the sky. Thunder cracked like the sound of a whip.

“Now we can find Belle!” 

“Yes,” Rumple agreed, and he couldn’t help the infectious smile tugging at his own mouth. He wiped it away and turned to address Henry seriously. “Quick, go and fetch your mothers. I’ll meet you at the shop.”

Henry nodded and turned away.

“Oh, and Henry?”

Henry looked over his shoulder.

“Be careful.”

Henry nodded again and ran off toward City Hall while raising his cell phone to his ear.

With no one left around him, Rumple took a moment just to breathe and recover from the excitement of the confrontation.

He looked up to the clocktower. A few months ago, he was up there using the Sorcerer’s hat to cast a huge spell that would sacrifice Hook’s life to increase Rumple’s power. It was that day that he lost everything when Belle exiled him. And now, he was working with Hook to stop a different villain from casting a spell for evil which would instead lead him to finding Belle. Maybe he could reclaim a little bit of what was lost that night.

Was this him becoming a hero, or was he just fooling himself?

As stray papers flew past him from a knocked over newspaper stand, he beelined for the shop. The familiar tinkling bell and smell of dust mixed with furniture polish welcomed him back.

“Not too much longer now,” he muttered to himself.

He quickly reclaimed Belle’s dagger and discarded the fake one. Then, for the first time in days, he took the time to clean things up, picking trinkets off the floor, putting books on their rightful shelf, and disposing of broken glass. It felt good putting his broken shop to rights. Though, who knows how long it would last.

After a few minutes, Henry came into the shop followed by Emma and Regina, then Snow and Charming with their baby, then Robin Hood and his son, then Hook pulling in Zelena and sitting her down on an antique wooden dining chair with a wicker back in the front of the shop. Whatever Hook had done to “deal with her", she seemed more resigned to her fate and quieter, and Rumple was grateful for that.

“Don’t move,” said Charming to Zelena, coming to help Hook by holding her steady by the shoulders.

“Is the rope really necessary? I can’t use magic,” she complained as Hook tied her up.

“Yes,” Regina deadpanned. “And, if you’re not careful, we’ll tie your mouth up too.”

“Uh, Henry?” Rumple said.

“Yeah?”

“What the hell is she doing in my shop?”

Regina sighed and stood up from where she was squatting beside Zelena.

“We’re not leaving her alone with Robin’s child on the way. Who knows how long we’ll be gone or what kind of mischief she might get up to? No. If we’re coming, so is she.”

“And, who said I want all of you to come with me?” said Rumple, gesturing at the tiny crowd gathered at the front of the shop.

Some of them gave him a bewildered look, like it was strange he didn’t expect the entire town to embark on his quest.

“Like it or not, you need help,” Emma said. “Besides, this is our opportunity to work together, to act like a family. This is what family does.”

“Crash my property?”

“I meant help each other, but sure, that too.” Emma shrugged, and Rumple grumbled but didn’t say anything more while they made themselves at home in his shop.

“I’m quite certain insurance doesn’t cover this place going airborne,” he mumbled as he walked around securing items in cases and locking displays.

“It’ll be fine,” said Regina.

“Well, Crocodile, it’s coming,” said Hook peering between shades in the front window.

“I told you. I’m not the Crocodile anymore."

“I think I’ll keep it. It still suits you.” Hook grinned as he looked back at Rumple. “How do you suggest we get this cyclone to take us to Belle and not to Oz?”

“We need something important to Belle, to her story,” Robin Hood said.

“The chipped cup!” said Henry, Emma, and Regina in unison.

“Are we that predictable?” asked Rumple.

“Yep,” replied Henry. “Do you have it?”

“Yes.”

He retrieved it from its place in the top shelf of the china cabinet in the back of the shop where it lay on the delicate porcelain saucer.

“Even though I couldn’t cast the realm-jumping spell, I believe I could use the wand to redirect the focus,” Regina said. 

“Believe?” Rumple said, raising an eyebrow.

Regina rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, shut up; it got you this far.” She smiled and extended her open hand. “Don’t you trust me?”

Rumple sighed and handed her the cup. “Be careful. It’s fragile.”

“I know,” she said, and she looked up at him. “Ready?”

He nodded and handed her the wand from his pocket, fighting to keep his hand from shaking.

Regina carefully held the cup in her left hand and waved the wand in slow circles above the cup with her right.

Rumple watched on with bated breath.

Magic sizzled, and the cup glowed as onlookers stared in awe, all except Zelena who glowered enviously.

The storm outside was getting heavier, and the lights flickered.

Suddenly the shop door was thrown open, and a herd of dwarves charged in with a gust of wind chilling the little shop.

“Twister!” yelled the grouchy one leading them.

“Leroy!” exclaimed Snow. “It’s okay; we summoned it. It’s taking us to Belle.”

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” Rumple told the newcomers. “We’re on a tight schedule, and I don’t have time for window shopping and petty squabbles.”

“No,” said Grumpy forcefully, and he gave Rumple a challenging stare.

“No?” Happy said.

“No?” repeated Rumple.

“No! We’re staying,” Grumpy avowed.

“We are?” said Happy doubtfully.

“I reserve the right to deny service to any cust—“

“This isn’t about the pawn shop, Gold,” Grumpy interrupted him. “It’s about Belle.” Her name came off sweetly in the usually gruff voice. “Belle was there for me when no one else was. When I was just a lonely dwarf drinking mead, she saw me and the love in me.“ He said dreamily, shocking Rumple to silence. “She is the kindest, most thoughtful person. She was a friend when I needed one most, and now she needs friends more than ever. We’re not turning our backs on her again. Not even in the face of certain death!” 

“Alright, then,” Rumple said with a resigned sigh.

“Certain?” said Happy nervously from behind Grumpy.

“Coming through,” Granny hollered, bustling through the front door carrying a portable freezer.

Ruby came in quickly behind her with a large picnic basket.

“We brought sandwiches for the road, er sky,” Ruby smiled awkwardly.

“Hey!” Rumple objected. “My shop is not a hotel!”

Granny began to unpack, making herself at home like she didn’t even hear him. She shook her head at his protests.

“You say that now but in a few hours when your tummy’s rumbling you’ll be glad we came along,” she said, setting food about and digging through drawers. “Do you have extra silverware?”

“You can’t be in here. This is my shop, and Belle is my wife. I get to say who comes.”

Ruby snorted and dropped the basket. “Belle is my friend.” She took a step closer to him, staring down at him and putting her hands on her hips. “And, we’re not leaving. I helped you find her before, remember? You could use my help again.”

“The circumstances were vastly different, but fine.”

Ruby beamed and went to help her grandmother unload.

Suddenly the building shook violently, and Rumple almost lost his footing, quickly grabbing onto a counter. The sounds of the ferocious cyclone just outside grew. He didn’t like the idea of depending on something he had no control over. Some small part of him insisted he run out of the shop to solid ground this instant.

“Well, I hope everyone who needs to be here is because we’re leaving now whether we want to or not,” Hook said loudly as the floor creaked beneath them, the shop desperately trying to hold itself together. He locked the door and propped a chair under the door knob for good measure.

Rumple prayed the building wouldn’t collapse.

“Hold on tight, everyone,” Granny instructed, and almost everyone did.

People clutched whatever was available: the wall, the frame, the displays, the counter, each other. Rumple silently thanked his cursed persona for bolting things to the floor. Charming ducked to huddle over Snow, and Regina shielded Henry. Roland burrowed into his father’s arms. Zelena shrieked as the chair she was tied to fell on its side. The bell flew off the door. A fuse blew, and the power went out with a loud sparking pop.

Wonderful.

Baubles and knick-knacks fell to the floor, and tapestries and clocks came off the wall with a shattering clang. The cash register flew open, and coins clinked as they hit the wooden floor and rolled around.

Rumple jumped nervously. He lunged for the chipped cup before it could fall off the counter where Regina had set it and hurried it to the back room shutting it back inside the hutch frantically. He hoped it would be safe inside as he gently closed and latched the wooden doors and pressed his hands against them. Rushing back to the front,  he stowed the rose in the bell jar beneath the counter, using a bit of rope to hold it in place. It didn’t escape his attention that a few more petals had turned black in his absence that afternoon. He only wished he had time to examine it more closely.

Finally, he scrambled around trying to catch heirlooms and return coins to the register. His cane skittered under a Victorian dresser, and he bent down to get it.

“Enough with the stuff, Rumple!” Regina yelled over the wind howling. “Hold on before you end up on the floor!”

Rumple yelped as Emma grabbed his sleeve and held him steady close to her just in time for the shop to completely lift off the ground, and his stomach sank quickly. He heard the foundation crack, and plumbing pipes burst below them. The ground below trembled, ripping the foundation of the shop to shreds, and he gripped the sideboard tightly to avoid being thrown across the floor. He thought he was going to be sick. He glanced out the side window behind him to see dark green clouds whirling around them and flashes of lightning making him wince. Between the thrashing tornado, the shop wreckage, and the rushing blood in his ears it was so noisy he couldn’t hear himself think.

“Are you alright, Gold?” Emma yelled above the ruckus.

Green lighting flashed through the window, and he was brought back to the moment where the ground tried to swallow him and Bae up.

He shook his head and closed his eyes, gripping to the edge of the counter and Emma’s shoulder with everything he had.

Suddenly, there was a rough jerk, and it was calmer as the shop entered the eye of the storm, and he could breathe again.

Doc looked out the window and frowned at what he saw circling them: “My Miata.”

Everyone began to collect themselves.

“You did it!” Henry said, wrapping his arms around Regina and Rumple in an awkward group hug.

Regina smiled as she hugged Henry back. She cupped his cheek.

Rumple tensed and took a step back. His eyes widened as he looked out the window and saw broad green storm clouds strong enough to carry the shop and a car. The town of Storybrooke quickly shrunk in size. He panted, feeling nauseous.

“Gold, are you alright?” Emma asked again.

“I’m fine"—he waved away her concern—"just ah…not too fond of traveling.”

“Oh.” 

Hook snorted as he walked over. “You used to use magic to teleport all the time. Sometimes when you were only a few feet away or for a dramatic entrance.”

“The difference is I had control then. I wasn’t being whisked away on this death trap.”

Henry’s jaw dropped as he looked out the window. He pressed his hands against the glass. “Well, I think it’s cool. It’s like we’re flying. I can see all of Storybrooke from up here. Look, Mom! There’s Grandma’s apartment, and City Hall, and the clocktower, and Archie’s office, and the Jolly Roger, and the ice cream shop…”

Rumple zoned out. It would be fine so long as he didn’t look down again. If it weren’t for the light feeling and slight sway, he could almost pretend they were still on solid ground.

“Before I forget,” Emma said, and she pulled something from behind her where it had been tucked away in the corner. “I brought this for you.”

“A cane? But, I have one.”

“This one is a little more than that. I asked Geppetto to make some adjustments, so you could defend yourself better in the Enchanted Forest.” She held out the shiny cane for him to see.

Reinforced sleek black hardwood formed the body. The handle appeared to be platinum in the shape of a fearsome lion's head mid roar with pointy teeth.

Rumple watched in awe as she pushed a button on the side, and a sharp blade popped out the bottom grip.

“Built-in blade and Taser too. It’s not magic, but it’s something.”

“It’s wonderful,” Rumple whispered. How they were even able to find the material was remarkable, and the fact they thought specifically of him...

“Bloody hell, Swan! Didn’t he do enough damage to me with a regular cane?” Hook had a pained expression on as he clutched his ribs.

Rumple smirked at the memory.

“Right, maybe I’ll take that back for now,” Emma said, and she did, leaving Rumple pouting and empty-handed. Suddenly, he heard the sound of someone punching a wall near the front.

A voice bellowed, “Is this my ax?”

Rumple jumped and excused himself from Emma and Hook to see Grumpy take something off the wall display, perhaps the only thing not bolted to the walls that hadn’t fallen off.

“Please, don’t touch the merchandise.”

“It’s my ax!” yelled Grumpy, brandishing the name “Grumpy” printed in western letters across the wooden handle.

“I could give you a discount for it.” 

Grumpy growled, slapping the ax handle into his hands. “Why I oughta…”

“What’s going on here?” asked Snow White, slipping herself into the argument.

“I’ve been looking for my ax for weeks, and he’s trying to sell it to me! I saw my name engraved on the wood with my own two eyes.”

“It must have come over with Zelena’s curse,” Snow said. “I doubt Rumplestiltskin had a say on what went where.”

“Indeed, each curse is an inventory nuisance,” Rumple added.

Grumpy huffed.

“But, seeing as it is Grumpy’s ax, I think it only fair you give it back to him,” Snow added in what could best be described as a primary school teacher’s voice. “Heroes help people find things, not withhold others’ belongings for a price.”

Rumple scowled but relented in Grumpy taking the ax.

Snow pulled Rumple aside.

“I just wanted to say, I know exactly what you and Belle are going through. It’s always hard to be separated from someone you love, but you can’t lose hope. You must stay on the path of heroism and goodness.”

“Oh, do you now? Did you do everything to stay with your father only for him to abandon you and trade you to a demon for power?”

“Well, no.”

“Did you receive a prophecy that said your actions would leave Emma motherless?”

Her jaw dropped, and she was left speechless in the face of Rumple’s venting.

“Did you sell your soul to save your child from being slaughtered by ogres, only to lose your child because you couldn’t fend off the corruption inside of you?”

He lowered his voice. “Have you ever received a prophecy that Henry will be your doom and have uncontrollable dreams of murdering him?”

Snow gasped, but he wasn’t finished.

“Were you ever forced to kill your true love? Totally powerless in the face of compulsion? Have you ever seen Prince Charming get wrapped up in a vortex of pure evil and corrupted by the very force that caused you to lose everything you hold dear?”

Snow closed her mouth with a squeak and sad eyes. Her green eyes sparkled, and he actually thought he might make her cry which would just make everything worse.

“With all due respect, you have no idea what I’ve been through, nor what Belle is facing at this very moment. I’ve been a seer for centuries, and I haven’t received one prophecy that things would be ‘okay’. Heroism and hope are easy when the odds aren’t already stacked against you.“

“You’re right,” Snow confessed, and her sincerity surprised him. “I don’t know what you’ve suffered. I don’t know what it’s like to have family abandon you or to live with a dark curse. But, I do know that the moment you stop believing in a happy ending is the moment you will never have one. Just because you don’t know for sure things will turn out right does not mean things will turn out wrong! When hope is lost is when it's most important to cling to it. Sometimes hope is all you have,”

She lectured passionately, and when Rumple was about to retort, she stopped him by taking a deep breath and talking again. “And you’re right, I don’t know what Belle is going through. But, I do know she is desperately going to need hope when you find her. And, you have to bring that to her. You have to be hopeful for her,” Snow hissed, but there was no real anger in her words.

Rumple was left dumbstruck.

She left him with that thought and went to Charming. She pecked his cheek and picked up Neal from his arms, snuggling her baby.

Was she right about hope being most important when things looked bleak? Why did it come so easy to her and so hard to him? One thing he did take to heart from what she said was Belle. From all he knew about the Dark Curse, Belle would need him to be there for her, to guide her way and light her path. He needed to forget his chronic pessimism and be hopeful, for Belle.

“Grandpa? I didn’t know you collect clocks too!”

Rumple looked to where Henry was picking up a pocket watch from the floor that was still somehow intact.

Henry opened the cover and lightly tapped the glass face in awe.

“I’m a pawnbroker. I collect everything, my boy.” He walked over to Henry and looked over his shoulder. “What do you have here?”

Henry showed him the pocket watch.

“Ah, yes, this is from the Land Without Color." He leaned forward to touch the pocket watch and tilt it back and forth. “You can tell because when the light hits the reflection it’s shaded not colorful; refraction is greyscale.“ He put the watch face under a lamp and continued to tilt the watch, and Henry observed in awe as the glass did not reflect any color, instead the clock face reflected a gradient of grays.

“It’s broken,” Henry noted. The minute needle appeared stuck between 3 and 4, constantly ticking but not going anywhere.

“It just needs a bit of repair,” Rumple assured him. He closed the watch and held it out. “It’s yours, if you’d like it.”

“Really?”

“Of course. Apparently heroes don’t charge. Besides, all this stuff will probably end up yours when I’m gone someday, my next of kin.”

Henry took the watch.

“Think of it as me investing in your collection." Rumple winked. "Maybe I can teach you how to fix it sometime. You are my apprentice, after all.”

Henry smiled and looked at the watch then up to Rumplestiltskin.

Rumple was pleased to see how something so seemingly insignificant could plaster such a cheery expression on his grandson’s face.

“Thank you,” Henry said as he pocketed the watch in his blue jeans.

Rumple’s ears perked up, and his head jerked when he heard noise coming from the back of the shop: soft rustling, hushed whispering, occasional scuffing. Someone was back there, and it irked him. The backroom was off limits. What if someone was stealing from him? Who would dare steal from Rumplestiltskin? Stranger things had happened.

He thought he could hear someone moving his things. What if they broke the cup? Everyone saw Regina use it to tether the spell; they knew how much it meant now. He had revealed his hand to all of these people, and any one of them could turn around and hurt him. Worse, what if there was a stowaway back there hoping to harm Belle or steal the dagger? He clenched his jaw and frowned.

Over my dead body.

Henry saw the anger on Rumple’s face, and his own expression became worried.

Before Henry could question him, Rumple muttered, “Excuse me for a moment, Henry? I need to take care of something.”

Henry nodded, “of course,” and he wandered away to Emma and Hook on the other side of the room, pulling out his gifted pocket watch and showing it to them.

Emma looked up at Rumple and smiled, and he just nodded back awkwardly before turning to smite his intruder.

Before he had even pulled back the curtain separating the back room from the front of the shop, he shot out the words harshly. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

He stopped in his tracks when he saw it. His mouth fell open in surprise, but he quickly shut it.

“Tucking in my son. It’s far past Roland’s bed time,” Robin Hood said. He was sitting on the edge of the cot smoothing the covers over Roland’s tiny body when he looked up and saw Rumplestiltskin. Acknowledging the pawnbroker’s presence, Robin turned back to his son, brushing Roland’s curly hair back and kissing his forehead.

Roland was tucked in the cot to his shoulders, eight tiny fingers poking over the edge of the blanket. The boy looked up at his father with wonder in his drowsy eyes.

On top of feeling like an arse, Rumple felt like a trespasser in his own shop to disturb such a loving scene. He didn’t belong anywhere near it.

Robin tweaked Roland’s nose, and he giggled in response.

They regarded each other with unconditional love unaffected by Rumple’s interruption. He had lost that, and he would never have it again. It left a sour taste and a numb tongue in his mouth.

He thought he should say something. Should he apologize? Rebuff Robin and scold him for going to the back without his permission? Claim he just needed something from the back? Wish them a good night? He concluded it was best to just leave them alone, and with a small nod he turned around to leave.

Robin squeezed Roland’s hand and mumbled something before standing and walking up to Rumple.

“I just wanted to tell you I think it’s really honorable what you’re doing.”

“It’s always good to have the approval of a thief.” 

Robin either didn’t sense the snide or chose to ignore it. “Belle is a hero. She’s a good person, and if there’s any assistance I can offer on your mission to save her, please let me know.” Rumple nodded, and Robin nodded back, rubbing the awkwardness on his jeans like he could be rid of it before going back to his son.

Rumple knew he shouldn’t intrude on such an intimate interaction, but he couldn’t stop staring. The bedtime ritual was so painfully familiar.

 “Goodnight, Son. Don’t let the bedbugs bite!”

Sleep well, my bairn.

 “G’night, Papa.”

Roland’s eyes fluttered close, and his breathing slowed, the blankets raising up and down slightly to accommodate his small form.

Robin stood up from the bed, and it lifted a bit without his weight on it. Walking over to where Rumple stood, Robin leaned against the doorframe with his ankles crossed. He watched his son with a small smile on his face.

“I apologize for intruding on your space, but Roland is getting a bit too heavy to sleep in my arms.” 

Rumple looked from Robin to Roland’s sleeping form, his peaceful face and fist curled next to his chin on the pillow. He was small in the adult-sized cot. He couldn’t be more than five or six years old. Bae had been such a restless soul at that time, waking from nightmares or hearing Milah entering and leaving during her tavern escapades.

“It’s no matter,” Rumple murmured, shrugging it off. “There…are blankets in the cabinet next to the bed if—if he gets cold.”

What Rumple wouldn’t give to have his son sleeping in his arms again no matter how much he weighed.

“Thank you.”

“I know the shop isn’t exactly the ideal child’s bedroom.” Although, it was a good thing the creepy marionette people weren’t in the back room. His eyes drifted over all sorts of nightmare-inducing artifacts in the room: stuffed animals with the eyes falling out and stuffing overflowing, theatrical skulls, ominous crystal balls.

Robin shrugged. “We’ve been in worse scrapes. As long as we’re together, we’ll manage.”

Rumple stifled a choked sob, disguising it as a hiccup. Could Robin tell how much those words affected him? He had said something similar to his Papa just before he abandoned him, and Bae had repeated the sentiment shortly before Rumple dropped him down the portal. But, Robin would never let Roland down—he was a good man.

Rumple turned away to prevent his stinging eyes from leaking. He left the room and pulled back the curtain to give them the illusion of privacy. He took a deep breath. As much as he still grieved Bae, he had to focus on finding Belle and staying true to her.

Rumple peered out the window of the shop. Flying high above the clouds at the peak of the twister, the ground was not even remotely visible. The sky too seemed lighter up here. It felt detached and surreal, not quite as frightening as seeing the town shrink before his eyes.

His thoughts drifted to Belle. Where was she? Was she alone? How was she handling…the Darkness? She wouldn’t be sleeping tonight. Was she thinking of him too? Did thinking of him, of them, bring her solace or just make things worse?

He pulled out the dagger and studied it as if the answers could be found in the elegant cursive of her name. Snow White had said that Belle needed him to be hopeful, to draw her out of darkness. Was she right? He wasn’t sure he had it in him. Belle believed in him so completely that she gave up her soul, so he would live, trusting him to find a way to save her. He would do everything in his power to prove her right.

“I’m coming for you, Belle,” he whispered, and he kissed her name on the blade wishing her to feel his love.

Soon he would be reunited with his true love. A strange feeling penetrated his chest, too steady to be fear and too light to be dread. As the feeling filled his whole body with warm fire, Rumple smiled, recognizing the emotion he hadn’t felt in centuries since he was a little boy and held a bean between his tiny fingers: hope.

Notes:

Sorry, I got kinda carried away with this chapter. Thanks to everyone still reading. There's only 2 chapters left, but I'm strongly considering doing a part two to continue the story. Please let me know what you think.

Chapter 11: Reunited

Summary:

Belle rises to a surprise which leads to a showdown at the Hill of Stones

Notes:

I'm sorry for such a long delay between chapters (again). Thank you to everyone still reading. The comments and kudos especially mean a lot and inspire me to continue. This is the second to last chapter currently. I'm probably either going to add more chapters or write a follow-up fic to this.

Belle opened her eyes. She hadn’t slept.

The Dark One had promised her she wouldn’t sleep a wink, and true to his word, Belle spent the night stewing in her own misery, a waking nightmare of self-loathing. She couldn’t help but wonder if the rest of her life would be like this, sobbing herself raw while the Dark One flayed her insides and stripped her of her faith.

So much had become uncertain for her in such a short time.

She worried that she had failed in her aim for heroism. She was a coward, and everyone could see right through her bluff.

Pretending to be brave doesn’t make you brave. It just makes you a liar.

And, in her obsession with righteousness she neglected her duty as a friend and a wife. How could anyone forgive or even love her for that?

The Dark One had vanished shortly before the sun began to rise. It didn’t matter that he was gone. He had accomplished what he set out to do, and Belle felt his dominating influence always whether she could see him or not.

After he was gone, she closed her eyes anyway and watched the vacant inside of her eyelids while she pretended she could fall asleep. The sun stung at her eyes and made her head swim, so she continued to keep her eyes shut blocking out the light for as long as she could. Things were less scary when it was a self-inflicted darkness.

That was a few hours ago, and Belle could pretend no longer. The night was over, and she needed to get up and move on with her life, what was left of it anyway. Time was of the essence. The sooner they headed out, the closer they would be to the Hill of Stones, and the closer she would be to finding Merlin and ending this nightmare.

She blinked wearily in an attempt to adjust to the brightness around her and rubbed at her grainy eyes. They were sore, and she scrubbed and scratched at her face hoping to rid herself of the tears and irritation that had resulted from the night. This was so much worse than any hangover she or Lacey had ever had, which was saying something considering she used to frequent dwarf taverns.

Finally, Belle propped herself up on her elbows and looked around curiously.

The meadow was much the same, a pretty picture, and it was eerie how little the world was affected by Belle’s night terror. If it weren’t for the knowledge she couldn’t sleep, she would’ve suspected she had just dreamt it all.

Merida had hardly moved. Lying on her side, she was still sleeping with her back to Belle. Belle was surprised Merida wasn’t up and raring to go as determined as she was yesterday. Perhaps Merida just really needed rest.

Belle decided to give her a few more minutes, and she crawled over to a small pond with clear blue water pooling from a creek. Kneeling, she dipped her fingers, testing the temperature. It was cool but not freezing and seemed clean enough. She lifted the water up to her face and attempted to wash away the pain. The water was cool and bracing on her sensitive skin, and it made her shiver.  When she dropped her hands, she caught her reflection as the water settled again.

She almost didn’t recognize herself. It was still her but a sad withered version of her, and her frown reflected her dismay. Fresh water was nice, but it couldn’t work miracles. It was shocking how different she looked after only a few days.

Her skin was pale, and puffy from where the tears had congealed on her cheeks; she was disappointed to see her rubbing had only made it worse. Her face was shadowed, practically gaunt. Her hair was frazzled; no longer just dirty, it was oily and matted. It would take hours of combing to pick out the tangles, she realized with a groan. A bad hair day was the least of her problems now. Her eyes were lifeless and exhausted, sunken into their sockets. They looked darker than normal: her irises, a thin blue ring around obsidian pupils and bloodshot milky white corners. Dark circles and ugly red arcs rimmed her eyes from rubbing, or crying, or sleep deprivation, or maybe just a combination. And beneath it all, the curse bubbling and threatening to take over her completely, so she would be ugly and unrecognizable.

Magic could fix all of it.

A shadowy figure began to loom over her reflection, and her eyes widened. She almost jumped back from the water when the reflection materialized into the Dark One, and she sighed in relief. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting anyway.

What could be scarier than him?

He leaned over her shoulder and studied their reflections quietly. They made a quirky portrait in the wavering water: him, dark and imperious, her, slight and nerve-wracked.

He spoke to her reflection with no attempt at hiding his revulsion. “I guess it’s true what they say about beauty sleep then?” He tugged at a clump of her hair.  “You’re not exactly the fairest of them all, dearie. Are you sure your beloved will even want to see you?”

Belle turned away from the water and glared up at him. It wasn’t bad enough that he stripped her soul bare, so now he was insulting her appearance? There was no limit to the ends he would go to offend her. She couldn’t answer his question, so she didn’t.

She looked back at her reflection. Would Rumple want to see her? If the Dark One was to be believed, he had the Dagger in his possession and was plotting how to get his revenge on her. She had dragged him into this, she knew. He was anything but pleased when she became the Dark One, and his eyes had overflowed with fear and worry. Even if he did want to save her, she wasn’t sure she deserved to be saved.

Belle sighed and stood up, walking towards the edge of the forest for breakfast.

Does the Dark One eat breakfast?

She felt full, but she looked starved. At the very least, Merida could benefit from the nutrition before the long day ahead.

She found a few berry bushes. Identifying which ones weren’t poisonous by comparing them to drawings she’d memorized in her botany textbooks, she pulled them off and stashed them in the pocket of her cloak. Then, she bent down and picked mushrooms, edible roots, and herbs. They would need the sustenance to get them through the rest of their trip.

On her way back to their shoddy camp, Belle rolled a small berry between her thumb and forefinger before tossing it into her mouth and chewing it thoughtfully. She made a face. It was sour and obviously under ripe, but it would do. They couldn’t afford to be picky eaters in the middle of the woods.

Back at the camp, she thought it odd that Merida still slept. The sun was up and so was the noisy wildlife. A deer was drinking from the pond; it froze when it heard Belle return and then darted into the forest.

Merida must be a heavy sleeper as well as a night owl.

It was nearly noon, and Belle worried she was ill.

Belle approached Merida where she lay unmoving on the ground, completely covered by her cloak.

“Merida,” her voice rasped, an awful croaking sound, and she cleared her throat which only partially alleviated the issue.

“Merida,” she called a bit louder as she made her way to where Merida was sleeping. Merida didn’t budge. “I know you’re tired, but we should get moving as soon as possible if we’re going to make it to the Hill of Stones before nightfall.” 

Merida didn’t respond or even move, so Belle drew closer. “Merida…” Her voice fell flat when she noticed Merida’s body wasn’t rising and falling with respiration. When she crouched next to her and touched Merida’s cloak to rouse her, she shrieked and fell backwards.

It was too light to be a person.

She lifted the cloak away and sure enough revealed nothing but dead logs and a head-shaped rock stuffed beneath the cloak to mimic the shape of a person sleeping.

“Merida!” Belle yelled, panicky, although it was clear Merida was long gone now.

It dawned on her that this couldn’t be an accident. Merida didn’t get lost on a morning walk. She intentionally manipulated foliage under her cloak so that Belle wouldn’t notice her absence, so she could leave. So, she could escape from Belle.

Paranoia and hurt surged through Belle. She quickly stood back up and looked around.

Merida was gone, and so was the wisp. There was no trail or signs of Merida to follow. Belle paced back and forth rubbing her temples.

“No, no, no, no, no, no,” she whispered.

“Oh, yes.”  The Dark One appeared behind her. He nodded appreciagely at Merida's setup before casually leaning against a nearby tree with a smug expression on his face. “I guess she didn’t like crazy after all,” he jeered in his impish voice.

Belle turned on him. “You! This is all your fault.”

“Me?” he sputtered indignantly, standing up and gesturing at himself in disbelief as he sauntered over to her. “I’m not the one who threw a tantrum in the middle of the night. You really ought to be more considerate of your neighbors, dearie,” he scolded, wagging a finger at her.

“I don’t understand.” Belle bent down, grasping the cloak with tears in her eyes. The rich soft fabric of the abandoned cloak between her fingers somehow made it all worse.

Why would Merida do this?

“I told you she would betray you. Perhaps you should’ve listened,” he said from over her shoulder.

“I thought we were friends."

What could she do now? She had no idea how to get to the Hill of Stones, and by the time she got there, Merida surely would have used the wisp, having had a healthy head start.

“The Dark One doesn’t have friends—only foes to fight and desperate souls to prey on. I’m the only one who can help you. I’m the only thing you can trust.”

Belle turned her head to look up at him. He offered her a hand, and she took it graciously, brushing the soil off her skirt.

“She went to the Hill of Stones…without me?”

“Yes," he hissed impatiently. “She’s doing what you should be doing: taking care of herself first.”

He seemed quite calm in the face of Belle’s increasing alarm. He brushed invisible dust off her shoulder and lifted her chin with his finger.

Stand up straight! his eyes commanded, and she did.

Belle didn’t have a hope in the world of finding the Hill of Stones without Merida as her guide. Even if she could, it wouldn’t matter without the wisp.

“If she gets to the Hill of Stones and whispers into that wisp, it’s all over for you, dearie,” he cautioned, echoing her fears.

Belle closed her eyes and let his words wash over her.

“That wisp is the only way you will be rid of this curse. It is the only way you will ever see Rumplestiltskin again. Without it, you will be all alone forever, and every night will be like last.”

“Bu-but—”

The stories, the friendship, the laughter. We were going to help each other.

“You can’t both win. Only one of you will get your answer, and it looks like Merida’s already decided who that will be.”

“No!” Belle yelled. “She can’t have it. I need it!”

“You don’t control her…”

“There must be something I can do.” Belle paused a minute as she raked for a solution. An idea came to her, one she wasn’t proud of, but an idea nonetheless. She shed her cloak, so it wouldn’t slow her down. “What—what does the Hill of Stones look like?”

“I thought you didn’t want to use dark magic ‘no matter what,’” he mocked her earlier commitment.

Belle clenched her jaw in frustration. Now wasn’t the time for “I told you so’s.”

“I need it. Please…. tell me.”

He caved easily and waved a hand. “Well, if you insist. The Hill of Stones is in a clearing of a wood not so different from this one,” he said, gesturing to the trees around them. “A dozen stone obelisks form a circle, and in the center field is where you may bring the wisp and get your answer.” He smiled. “You’re in luck, dearie. It appears she hasn’t used the wisp yet.“

Belle tried to imagine it, mouthing the description and focusing, when the Dark One interrupted her. “What is your plan, then?”

“My plan? I’m going to talk to her. This must be a misunderstanding.”

“A misunderstanding? She used a rock for a mannequin. She deceived you. The only thing you need to understand is which organ you should rip out to cause the most pain!” 

“I don’t care. I have to try. Merida wouldn’t just abandon me.”

“Oh, and you know her so well after one sleepover? You don’t even know yourself. How can you expect to be a good judge of others?”

“I should still try to talk to her.”

“You need to stop her no matter what. You should kill her.”

“What? I won’t kill someone!”

“Ah, you don’t really mean that.”

Belle ignored him and instead channeled her magic to teleport to the Hill of Stones.

Appearing on the outskirts in a puff of azure smoke, she quickly dodged behind a tall obelisk on the edge of the Hill of Stones.

When she peered around it, she saw Merida kneeling in the center of the site, quickly whispering into her satchel. She turned her ear towards the satchel, keenly listening.

“No!” Belle shrieked, emerging from shelter just as the blue orb flew from the satchel and away from them.

Merida watched it go behind the trees before turning to face Belle.

“Merida, how could you?” Belle cried, taking a step closer as she watched her hopes flit into the woods. Her hands sizzled with magic at her anguish. It was fresh in her blood and all too tempting mixed with adrenaline and betrayal.

The Dark One stood a few steps behind her and watched the scene with interest.

It seemed Merida would not be going down without a fight. When she registered Belle’s presence, she quickly drew her bow, a barrier blocking what Belle needed most.

The tension in the air was thick, and whatever friendly tones there had been were discarded for snarls and accusations.

“I did whit I bud dae fur my faimile!” Merida notched an arrow into the bow. 

“What’s she saying? Accent’s a bit much, no?” teased the Dark One.

Belle tried not to hear or see him, instead focusing on Merida and keeping her own hands pinned to her sides.

“You lied to me,” Merida accused, and that Belle understood painfully clearly.

“Merida, I can explain—” she started. She thought if Merida could just give her a chance, she could ease the situation, but she wouldn’t.

“No!” Merida yelled. “You really are a witch, aren’t you? I heard you talking about magic and darkness last night. You told me you didn't want any of it.”

“I don’t!”

“That so? Then how did you get here so quickly?” Merida said, narrowing her eyes.

“She’s daring you,” crooned the Dark One from behind her. Indeed, Merida tightened her grip on the bow and raised it, challenging Belle.

“I—” Belle started.

“I know you hear voices, and whatever evil is inside your head wants you to kill me.” Merida’s voice shook.

“Yes, but—“

“I need the wisp, and I need my brothers, so turn around and go!”

“Well, I need my husband!” Belle snapped, losing her composure. Despite her lack of weaponry, she began to circle Merida, ready to strike. Her fingers twitched, and she itched to do something.

Merida had no idea just whom she was pushing.

Merida froze. She sensed Belle’s aggressive stance and stiffened even more. She followed Belle’s movements with her bow, jerking it around the circle and turning to keep up with her.

“It’s come to this then, has it? I’m not warning you again, leave before we find out what color your heart really is.” 

“Kill her!” snarled the Dark One, drawing closer to Belle. He moved with her revolution around Merida with calculated steps like a shadow, completely in sync with her movements. Or perhaps Belle was the shadow, the dummy which the Dark One used to project his will on the world.

“Don’t test me, witch!” Merida growled, increasingly more on edge. Her movements became even more uneven as she worked to keep her aim on Belle.

The Dark One drew ever closer to Belle, and she could no longer tell the difference between Merida’s and her own heartbeat; they were both so frantic.

“What are you waiting for, Dark One?” he whispered menacingly.

It was the first time he or really anyone addressed her as such, and it felt right somehow, filling Belle with an invigorating thrill at her power. She tried to tamp it. After making one full circle around Merida, Belle stopped and the Dark One with her.

“You know what you have to do. Now go ahead, and rip her heart out!”

She could see her own panic reflected in Merida’s expression, though they both tried to hide it. Taking fast, heavy breaths, their bodies powered into fight or flight mode. Belle could hear both heartbeats pounding away, and she saw Merida sweat. Neither dared let their guard down for even a second.

The Dark One came closer, so he was practically touching her, his right hand hovering over her hip and his left hand over her shoulder with his head by her ear. He tickled her earlobe with his breathy hiss, “Now is the time. You want the wisp? Well, there’s only one way. Now do it!”

“I’m not going to kill her,” she murmured weakly, locking eyes with Merida even as she addressed the Dark One.

“You got that right,” Merida sneered.

She took advantage of Belle’s hesitation. She released the arrow. It flew, whirring in the air and aimed straight for Belle’s chest.

Belle lifted her hand in shocked defense, but to her surprise, the tip never pierced her. Reflexively, Belle had caught the shaft with the power of her magic which seemed to surprise both her and Merida.

Belle gripped the arrow tightly and looked down at it before glaring up at Merida.

She actually shot me!

If it weren’t for her magic, Merida would’ve killed her. The thought made her tremble with rage.

Suddenly fearful, Merida retreated behind a pillar. 

“Go on,” goaded the Dark One. “Use your anger. Use your power!”

Belle gasped at the sharp tip of the arrow she caught. No one had ever shot an arrow at her. It seemed almost inhumane. She felt hunted. She exhaled sharply and dropped the arrow. “Let me talk to her,” she forced out with all her will, attempting to regain control.

“You’re a crazy woman! I don’t want to talk.” Merida peeked from behind the rock.

Belle drew closer, but she kept her hands low, clenched in fists.

Merida popped up from behind a rock and shot a quick arrow at Belle’s neck which she easily caught.

What was not easy was restraining herself in the heat of their fight.

As Belle took slow steps forward, the Dark One watched, his smirk growing.

“You need to find Merlin, Dark One. You need that wisp,” he coaxed. It was all true.

How could Merida steal all the power for herself?

Belle needed it, and her mission could affect all conceivable realms. She needed it more. Merida was the only thing in her way now, but she still couldn’t bring herself to hurt the first person to treat her like a human since becoming the Dark One.

Merida shot her again in quick succession, weaving in and out of the stones.

Each arrow Merida shot Belle caught and dropped, gradually becoming more flustered and unraveled. She tossed one arrow down, and the next she snapped in half and threw behind her. The next one she dropped, and it snapped beneath her boot. They were like toys, and a very small part of Belle reveled in the game of brushing off attacks. If only Merida would just stop shooting for one second and listen to her.

“Please don’t,” Belle said to Merida as calmly as she could, but Merida wouldn’t listen to her.

She was too busy concentrating on rapid-firing arrows.

One nearly touched Belle’s chest, and she felt a gust of wind with it making her pant.

Had her reflexes been a hair slower she could be dead right now. There was no doubt Merida was trying to destroy her.

“Kill her,” the Dark One growled.

Belle caught another arrow and gasped.

Merida quickly sought cover behind a rock, but what she didn’t know was that it didn’t seem quick to Belle. Belle could have easily moved ten times faster than Merida with her dark magic.

"She shot you first. It’s practically self-defense,” the Dark One said as an arrow sped past her, nearly nicking her ear.

Belle hesitated still.

“What are you waiting for? Kill her!”

Suddenly, Merida shot three arrows in a row that Belle quickly dispatched, though it was hard for her to keep up. They would get nowhere if Merida kept attacking her like this. It was the final straw.

“STOP!”

And Merida finally stopped her assault, though not of her own volition. Merida’s every muscle was paralyzed. She yelped and clung to her bow with a frightened look while all her arrows clattered to the ground.

With a flick of Belle’s hand, Merida was at her mercy, strained and pulled to her in an uncomfortable position with her chest forward, shoulders and arms back, and legs hovering off the ground in a magical vise grip. In a twitch of Belle’s hand, Merida was dragged closer to her, so there was hardly any space between them. She could read the fear in Merida’s eyes, the only thing Merida retained control of, as they stretched wide and glanced around for an escape.

In one swift motion, Belle reached into Merida’s chest and pulled out her heart, a glowing red fleshy thing. As it came out it made a squishy sound that spurred Belle’s bloodlust.

Merida gasped with the pain of having her heart ripped out and bent over, looking up at Belle with terror in her eyes.

There was no playing and no doubt about it. Belle quite literally held Merida’s life in her hands.

Belle cradled Merida’s heart in her hand while Merida looked on helplessly, unshed tears making her green eyes glisten. Belle had never held this kind of power over another.

She could hear Merida’s heartbeat even more clearly, steadier now that it was outside her body. It was life itself. She felt the reverberations on her hand as they vibrated through her entire being. Holding someone’s entire soul made her feel powerful in a way she never had.

“I’m sorry,” whispered Belle to Merida as she regarded her sadly.

“Excellent, now crush it!” instructed the Dark One.

Belle didn’t move. Even after everything she wasn’t sure she could kill someone. Perhaps the Dark One was wrong about her. Merida was her friend; she didn’t want to hurt her, even when every fiber of her being told her it was the right thing to do.

“Kill her,” he seethed.

Belle abandoned her doubts and tightened her grip. Slowly, she squeezed.

Merida winced and started to sink as her breath escaped her.

“Stop!” he shouted from somewhere off to the side, and Belle was confused.

She was befuddled enough that she relaxed her grip, and Merida, panting, straightened.

Was he toying with her? All he ever did was tell her to go, and now he wanted her to stop. She didn’t understand. What was his aim? What did he want? Merida had to die. It was the only way. Was he expecting she would torture her and then kill her?

His voice sounded strange, far away but grounded.

“Do it!” he raged from beside her, and Belle’s fingers twitched around the heart. She could do it. She could—

“Don’t!” He was all around her, to her left, to her right, in her head, outside of her, coursing through her veins with his commands.

Rather than being at the Hill of Stones, she felt like she was at the Hill of Dark Ones as he surrounded and suffocated her. She lost all sense of reality. It was too much. Belle began to cry openly.

“Now!” he snarled, and Belle cried harder, her tears streaming down her face in two even rivers that dripped down her chin and pooled over her chest soaking her dress.

Her eyes closed tightly, and the heart wavered in her trembling hand.

“Belle!”

That was strange. In all the time she spent with the Dark One she couldn’t once recall him addressing her by her actual name. He probably didn’t want her to have anything that could remind her she was a real person. She was the Dark One; that’s all that mattered now.

Yet, here he was calling her name and sounding more strained than she’d ever heard him. It was enough to make her open her eyes.

She sniffled as she looked around, lowering her hand.

Out of the right corner of her vision, she saw him wearing a dark three-piece suit though it appeared wrinkled and slept in. It was an odd look for him, but Belle was long past questioning the wardrobe choices of the voices in her head. He had a much paler complexion than she was accustomed to.

Belle squinted to see him better, and he came into sharper focus. His hair was smoother and cleaner, his forehead wrinkled, and his jaw stubbled.

Oh, so familiar and warm.

He was tightly gripping a walking cane with one hand and beckoning her with the other. But what struck her the most was the sincere and anxious expression on his face.

“Rumplestiltskin?”

“Yes.” He smiled and nodded.

It hurt her heart to even imagine him standing before her. The Dark One must be truly sadistic to torture her like this.

Belle shut her eyes again until she saw stars. She shook her head, squeezing the heart.

“No, it can’t be. It’s not real. Stop taunting me!”

“It’s really me. I’m here,” he said calmly, and the softness in his voice made her open one eye and then the other. Like warm tea fresh from the kettle, the Dark One could try, but he could never live up to the softness of Rumple’s voice when he was being truly earnest.

“What? How?” Belle asked, looking around.

This can’t be possible. He should still be in Storybrooke.

“You always find me, remember? I suppose it’s high time I start finding you.” 

Belle tried to return the smile.

He appealed to her more urgently, “put her heart back, Belle.”

At the reprieve of pressure on her heart, Merida had slumped forward resembling a puppet, and she now swayed unsteadily with her eyes glued to her heart looking like she would reach out and grab it, if only she could.

The Dark One took a step backwards from Belle, reminding Belle of the fluency of a chess match but still watched her steadily. Check.

“I’m sorry,” Belle whispered.

“It’s okay,” Rumple said. “It’s not too late. Just…put back her heart.”

Belle looked at the heart in her hand then up to Rumple. “You don’t know what’s happening,” she told him gravely. He hadn’t read the tomes she had. He didn’t have the Dark One to explain these things. This might have looked bad, but it was necessary. “This is the only way to find Merlin. He’s the only one who can stop the darkness.” 

“Quite right, crush it!” encouraged the Dark One from over her shoulder, bouncing on his toes.

Belle stiffened and tried to focus.

“To stop the darkness, you’re going to let it consume you?” Rumplestiltskin asked incredulously. There was a slight hint of sardonicism in his tone beneath the upset.

She might have rolled her eyes at him if this weren’t so serious.

“You don’t know that,” Belle challenged.

“Yes, I do.” He pressed his hand over his heart and raised his eyebrows meaningfully. “I thought I was doing the right thing, killing all those soldiers. I thought that I would save my boy, and then we could be a family again. But you can’t come back from murder, Belle. Doing the wrong thing for the right reason is still doing the wrong thing, and no matter what you think you can’t win by using darkness. I let the darkness consume me because I thought it was the only way to save my son, and I lost everything because of it,“ he said, and then he added a little surer with a half-smile, “until I met you that is.”

Belle was touched by his sincere words, but she knew he wouldn’t understand.

“And that’s why I have to do this.” she looked back at the heart. “It’s the only way for us to be happy,” Belle said in a broken voice.

“And our happiness is more important than her life? Belle, trust me; I know things seem dire, but this isn’t the way. We can still be happy, but it will never work if we build our love on the blood of others.”    

“Don’t listen to him. He doesn’t understand what’s at stake,” the Dark One snapped. He walked around to her side so that Rumple was to her right and the Dark One to her left and Merida in the center before her.

“You don’t understand what’s at stake,” Belle echoed hollowly with her eyes glued to the heart. She shook it for emphasis. “If I don’t find Merlin, the darkness will destroy both of us.”

Rumple frowned. “If you kill her right now, you’ll destroy us for the darkness yourself. Maybe you don’t understand what’s at stake here.” He took a step closer. “Belle, please, don’t do this.”

“The Dark One destroys everything near it. You said it yourself.” She looked at him, and Rumple seemed brought up short, judging by the guilty look crossing his face. “I won’t do that to you.”

“She has to die,” said the Dark One with a definitive nod.

“She has to die,” Belle repeated sinisterly, and she turned toward Merida. She began to crush the heart, and Merida cried out and whimpered. The glowing light in the heart seemed to fade, and the pulsing heartbeat dimmed.

“Listen to yourself, Belle!” he shouted, stomping the cane, and making Belle jump.

Avoiding his eyes, Belle released her death grip on the heart.

“This isn’t you speaking."

Wordlessly, Belle looked over to the grinning Dark One on her left, and Rumple followed her gaze, narrowing his eyes at the empty space beside her.

“Don’t listen to that puckish bastard, Belle. He isn’t real, just a devil on your shoulder.“ He took another step closer, and Belle quivered. “I’m real, Belle. I’m here.”

She whimpered at his words, staring at the ground. He lifted his cane and gestured to himself before putting it down softly and sighing. “We will find another way, together. Look at me.”

Slowly and hesitantly Belle looked up at him. She got lost in his eyes until he spoke again.

“I came all the way from Storybrooke to be here, with you. I traveled across realms. I allied with the heroes and triumphed over villains. I was brave for you, because of you. If I can be brave, so can you. If I can overcome fear, and overcome my demons, then so can you.”

“I can’t do it,” she said softly, and she looked away.

“Yes, you can. You’re stronger than me, Belle, than I ever was. You can do it. You just have to believe. Just…just try, please?”

Belle looked from Rumple to the Dark One who had a frown on his face now and his arms crossed. Finally, she looked to Merida, whose eyes watered as she choked, and down at the beating heart in her hand. She couldn’t go through with this. It was wrong. She wondered just how she got to this drastic position of threatening another’s life. She took a deep breath.

Holding one hand on her shoulder, Belle thrust Merida’s heart back into her chest cavity as gently as she could. She was pretty sure everyone in the vicinity heaved a huge sigh of relief. Except the Dark One, of course, who seemed to be gone for the moment. Belle didn’t trouble herself with his sudden disappearance though.

Both Merida and Belle panted from the intense moment.

Once Merida regained her strength, she quickly scurried out of the way.

Belle rushed into Rumple’s open arms and sobbed into his shoulder as he hugged and reassured her. She threw her arms around him, and she burrowed her head in his warm shoulder, clinging to the expensive fabric of his suit jacket with what was left of her sanity. 

He hugged her back so securely at first she might have worried he would smother her if she weren’t already immortal. He patted her hair with one hand and rubbed gentle circles on her back with the other, sheltering her.

“I’m so sorry,” she cried as she nuzzled into his neck.

“Shhh. It’s alright,” he cooed as he stroked her hair affectionately. He pulled back a bit to wipe the fresh tears from her face, and his fingers were warm and rough over the sensitive skin of her cheeks. He grabbed her hands in his and held them together between them.

“I was so frightened.”

“I know, but it’s going to be alright. I’m here now. We’re together, and that’s all that matters. Everything is going to be just fine.”

She hugged him again, squeezing his waist, and he reciprocated, wrapping his arms completely around her, protecting her, warming her chills, and drying her tears without hesitation. She moved her hands to rest over his chest, the tips of her fingers grazing his shoulders, her arms sandwiched between them while she just allowed herself to be hugged. For one glorious moment she was absorbed in the warmth and love of their embrace without an inch of space between them.

She peered over Rumple’s shoulder and saw the Dark One staring back at her sternly. She squealed. Turning her face into Rumple’s shoulder, she mumbled into his jacket, “I’m a terrible wife, I’m a terrible wife, I’m a terri—”

“Belle?” he stopped her. Carefully supporting her shoulders and neck, he pulled her back and gently withdrew from the embrace. He fought to meet her gaze as Belle looked down at her feet. “What are you saying? That’s cr—"

Belle flashed her eyes up at him, and he stopped himself.

“That’s not true. You are not a terrible wife. You are a wonderful wife. I’m so lucky to have you. I love you, and I missed you so much.” He hooked their fingers together and pulled her closer.

“I missed you too,” Belle said softly, her voice shaking.

He wrapped his arms around her hips, pulling her even closer and rubbed his hands over her arms to warm her. They stood like that, clinging to each other for all they were worth and gazing into each other’s eyes.

Finally, he buried his face in her hair and squeezed her even tighter against him. “Don’t ever scare me like that again,” he rasped, and she felt it more than heard it as his Adam’s apple bobbed against her skin, but he didn’t sound angry. He sounded nervous and out of breath like he had just been running.

It occurred to Belle that that might not be too far from the truth since she still had no idea how he got here. Not that she would question it now.

Despite everything, she giggled against his face and kissed his cheek softly. “I won’t.” She pulled back a little. “It was foolish of me to think I could handle the darkness better than you.”

“But you will handle it better than I ever could. Belle, you’re so much stronger and braver than me.”

She reached a hand to brush back his hair from his face when she got caught in his gaze again. His eyes were so wide, full of pain and worry.

“I hurt you.”

“I hurt you too.”

He caressed the back of his hand against her cheekbone gently.

He didn’t argue with her, but neither did he seem upset. It was less of an apology from either of them and more of an acknowledgement, a reminder that they were both human when she needed it most.

“But that’s over now.” He placed his hands on her shoulders, steadying her. “We’re together, and everything will be okay now. No more lies, no more deceit. Just me and you, Sweetheart. And we’re going to fix things.”

He stepped back, watching her carefully like he was trying to read something in her eyes. Then, he reached into the inner lining of his suit jacket and pulled out the Dagger.

Belle drew in an anxious breath at finally seeing the powerful object that could control her.

He looked from the Dagger back to Belle.

“You dropped this,” he teased.

Belle couldn’t help the giggle that escaped at his corny joke.

When the humor wore off, they were left standing in a tense moment with Rumple holding total dominion over his wife between his fingers.

She thought she should say something, and she opened her mouth in an attempt to produce words, but before she could, he blurted out, “I want you to have it.”

Belle looked from the dagger he was holding out up to his eyes. She cocked her head and gave him a curious look. Why give it to her?

“I trust you and love you with all my heart, Belle,” he explained. “We’re going to get through this together. But, how can I help you remain heroic and virtuous if I don’t trust you with your own fate? Take it.”

Belle carefully picked up the dagger and studied it. This was her first time seeing it with her name on it, and it was a chilling experience. She felt powerful holding it, like she could do anything. It felt like someone had amputated her arm, and she was just now getting it reattached. Her hand fit the hilt perfectly. She felt complete and relaxed for the first time in days.

She looked up at Rumplestiltskin, and he smiled bashfully at her.

Glancing over his shoulder, she spied the Dark One studying her with a serious expression. When he caught her attention, he jerked his chin in a curt nod.

Belle looked back to Rumple. She put the dagger back into Rumple’s still outstretched hands.

“Belle?”

“I trust you too.” Belle said. “I am, for now and all the future, yours, remember?”

“Of course, I do,” he said, though the crease in his brow didn’t ease up. “But, Belle, think about it. If it falls into the wrong hands, what it could do, what you could do.” 

The Dark One stared hard at her.

Belle glanced at him then pointedly looked away.

She ran her fingers through the ends of Rumple’s hair and behind his neck which seemed to calm him. She looked down at the Dagger as she spoke. “The fight to control my darkness has just begun. It’s too much power, Rumple. Someone…needs to watch me.” She looked up at him. “You know about being the Dark One more than anyone, and I know you won’t let any harm come to me.”

“Thank you, Belle, for trusting me,” he said as he put the dagger back with Belle’s eyes glued to it. “But, I swear I won’t ever use this to control you.” He grabbed her hands and lifted them caressing them in his, tracing slow patterns with his calloused fingers into her delicate skin. He brought her fingers to his lips and softly kissed them. “I carried that burden for too long, and I won’t cast it on you.”

Belle smiled. She pulled him closer to her. With the dagger gone it was easier to focus just on him, on his twinkling eyes and sharp nose. She rose on her toes to kiss him which he gladly returned wrapping his arms around her again. She gently rubbed at the hair on the nape of his neck. His lips were smooth and warm against hers, and it made everything easier. It was a soft chaste kiss, but one that was sorely overdue.

“So, will you tell me how you got here,” she said in a flirtatious voice as she leaned her forehead against his.

“It might be easier to show you.” He matched her tone and smiled against her lips.

Belle beamed as she lowered herself down to flat feet but then looked quickly behind her and opened her mouth.

“Can you wait just one more moment please?” Belle asked, and she brushed his arm.

Rumple nodded. He picked up his cane which had been completely discarded in favor of their embrace and stuck his other hand in his pants’ pocket as he watched her go.

Looking back once to make sure he wasn’t going anywhere, she walked to the other side of the Hill of Stones and behind an obelisk.

Belle found Merida having recovered and walking towards the woods looking for where the wisp disappeared too. Her eyes darted around the woods searching for the blue orb, and she didn’t notice Belle come up beside her.

“Merida, are you alright?”

Merida turned, just now noticing Belle’s presence. She shrugged. “Oh, for someone who just had their heart outside their chest, grand."

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about that.” 

Merida unslung her bow, propping it on the ground and holding it steady with her arm.

“I probably shouldn’t’ve provoked you. I’m afraid whatever you’re dealing with is far more ominous than I originally expected.”

“Yes it is. Thank you for, well, sort of understanding.”

“No, thank you.”

“For what? I nearly killed you!”

“I’m well aware.” Merida shook her head and smiled.

Belle wondered if she wasn’t the only one losing her sanity.

Merida sighed, relaxing the pent up tension in her shoulders. “Thank you for showing me the darkness in you. It reminded me I have darkness in me too. I was on my way to kill the people who took my brothers. But maybe… maybe I’ll show them mercy. Mercy that can heal my divided land.”

Belle gave her a sympathetic look and nodded.

Merida rolled her eyes. “But someone’s going to get a right punch to the gut for putting me through this. Then mercy,” she declared in her thick brogue, twirlying her bow and reslinging it.

Belle laughed. “Look, I know things have gotten more complicated, but I meant what I said earlier. I’d still like to help you find your brothers and reclaim DunBroch.”

“Thank you, but I think this is something I need to do on my own. Maybe, if fortune favors us, we’ll cross paths again with less dire circumstances.”

“I’d like that. Good luck, Merida.”

“Good luck to you too, Belle.” Merida grimaced. “Fighting to end all darkness forever. That’s some quest you’re on. But you seem to be on the right path now, and you’ve got a good bloke by your side.”

Belle smiled. “I do.” She reached out to squeeze Merida’s arm.

Merida caught sight of the blue orb and followed it into the woods.

Belle sighed. There goes her chance of finding Merlin. But, she found something even better.

Belle made her way back to Rumple who was leaning against a stone column.

“What was that all about?” he asked as he stood.

“Just saying goodbye to a friend,” said Belle, smiling. “Shall we?”

He bent his left arm, and she laced her right arm through properly, and they leaned into each other as they walked. Every so often he pecked her cheek, or she nuzzled his neck.

Belle shivered and rubbed at the light cotton asylum gown sleeves.

“Are you cold?” he asked as he noticed her shivering.

Belle didn’t answer. She looked at her shoes. She was cold, but she was also too numb to be bothered by it. Suddenly, she felt a heavy warmth around her. When she looked up she saw Rumple had wrapped his black long overcoat around her shoulders. She pulled it closer around her by the lapels.

“There,” he said, and he smiled gently. “Better?”

Belle lifted her chin once, the closest to a nod she could manage.

They walked down a path separating the forests which Belle suspected was a royal highway. She was relieved to see a sign of society.

He gestured for Belle to follow him, and they walked together in companionable silence for a few minutes before he stopped. He dug into his pants pocket. Belle waited expectantly to see what it was.

“My chipped cup!” Belle exclaimed, and she took it from his hands happily, examining it to make sure there were no new abrasions.

He smiled at her excitement, and they kept walking. “I thought you might like it. Thought it might remind you who you are and not to give up. Thought I could bring you hope of all things,” he chuckled and gave her a mirthful expression.

She smiled at him; that her husband could stand here talking about hope was nothing short of miraculous.

He sighed and pointed to it, letting his forefinger touch the non-chipped rim. “That and…. I also needed it so Zelena could use Merlin’s wand to make a portal to the Enchanted Forest.”

Belle stopped turning the cup in her hands and gawked at him.

“It sounds like you’ve had quite the adventure.”

“So, have you,” he said sadly, frowning, and his thumb ran gently over the dark arcs under her eyes.

Belle closed her eyes. She carefully tucked the tea cup into the pocket of his coat.

“It’s the Darkness. It’s…pressing,” she said quietly, and he grabbed her hands which made Belle look up at him again. She squeezed his fingers. “I never thought I’d see you again.”

“You should’ve known better.”

Belle chuckled, and he returned it. She watched their feet admiring the way they traveled in unison.

“Can I ask you a question?” she said after a bit.

“Of course.”

“When I see the darkness. It looks… it looks like you.” Belle said, and she saw his eyebrows crease, and his easy smile fall. She hadn’t meant to make him feel bad, but her curiosity got the best of her. “Well, like you used to in the Enchanted Forest when you were cursed. I think it thought it would be easier to manipulate me that way.”

“Ah.” He looked down.

“What did you see? When you were the Dark One, I mean?”

“I-" he cleared his throat and looked away for a moment.

If she didn’t know better, she would have thought he was admiring the large tree on the right. But, after all this time she knew how to recognize pain in his features.

“I saw the monster that massacred a retinue of soldiers in front of my child,” he gritted out darkly. “Sometimes the adage is true: I am my own worst enemy. There isn’t much scarier than the reality of the monster you could become.”

Belle stopped and looked at him, reaching for his shoulder.

“You’re not a monster.”

“And, neither are you.”

He kissed her cheek, and she blushed before continuing their stroll.

“I know what you mean though. I never wanted to believe I could be capable of such evil. It’s just…I had no idea that the Darkness was like that, so forceful. I didn’t know that you saw it all the time.”

“Because I didn’t want you to know and neither did the Darkness. I was too cowardly to confide in you, so I let it fester inside.” He stopped, touched her chin gently, directing her full attention to him. “But, Sweetheart, I want you to know you don’t have to hide anything from me, ever, you could never scare me away, alright? I will always love you.”

“I love you too.”

Despite his endearing words, Belle worried what her husband might think of her and what she had become—ripping out hearts and tongues not to mention the dark thoughts that plagued her. At best he’d think her mad; at worst he’d think she was evil. She couldn’t let him look at her with fear the way Merida and the man from the other day had. It would hurt too much.

Itching at the back of her mind was the conversation she had with the Dark One the other day. She couldn’t have children. What would Rumple think of that? He loved his first son so much she wasn’t sure he would want to start a family with her at first. They had never talked about it. But then she saw his vision for their future in the Heroes and Villains book; she lived it. He had Isaac write them with a baby, a baby they both loved tremendously. And now that baby is gone. How would he handle the news that he could never have that again? Not with her. She should tell him; she owed him an explanation, but her fears kept her mouth clamped shut.

She heard footsteps of someone running towards them, and Belle tensed.

“Grandpa? Belle! You found her!” Henry said, and he ran up to give Belle a quick hug.

“Yes, I did. No worse for wear.” He winked at Belle and put a hand to her back to steady her.

“Henry,” Belle said, surprised but not upset to see him. “You brought Henry?”

“More than just Henry. It seems there was no shortage of people wanting to help you. You must’ve made quite the impression. I could barely fit them all in my shop.”

“Really?”

“Come on.” He gestured for her to follow and Henry, Belle, and Rumple walked the last few steps to the pawnshop. It was a welcome sight though it was covered in moss and brambles, and a thick vine even crawled over the Gold’s Pawnbroker and Antiquities sign.

“The shop?”

“Well, it’s something familiar for you. There also might be something in there that can help us find Merlin.”

“Thank you. That was so thoughtful of you.”

He smiled sheepishly as she kissed the corner of his mouth.

"Belle! It's good to see you." Emma burst out of the shop, Hook following after. 

“Well, you don’t look like a crocodile.”

“Um, thanks?” Belle wrinkled her nose. She self-consciously ducked her head, remembering her reflection in the water that morning. She might not look liek a crocodile, she couldn’t imagine the events of the day had improved her appearance by much.

“You look beautiful” Rumple whispered into her ear, and she blushed.

 Soon there was a small crowd of people greeting her.

“Belle!” Ruby hugged her.

“Ruby!” 

“Are you okay? We were all so worried about you.”

“I’m fine.”

“When I said we should have a girls’ night out, this isn’t really what I had in mind.”

Belle laughed. “Apparently a dark curse is the only way to bring everyone together.”

“I brought Granny, and she brought sandwiches. No hamburgers, unfortunately, they wouldn’t keep.” Ruby made a face.

“That’s alright,” Belle said, still a little overwhelmed by all the people. She felt a rough slap on her back, and she jumped.

“I’ve got your back, sister.”

“Grumpy, you came!”

“’Course I did. A long time ago a wise woman told me to follow my dreams. And now, I’m here to make sure yours come true.” He smiled awkwardly, the best way he could smile with his grumpy demeanor.

Robin Hood came out with Regina, and they greeted Belle too. She smiled and waved at the little Roland in Robin’s arms.

“Hi, Belle!” said Robin in his still gentle father voice.

“Hi,” squeaked Belle, and Roland flapped his hand in a sloppy wave back.

“I’m glad you’re safe,” said the mayor of Storybrooke.

“Thank you, Regina. I’m honestly taken aback by the amount of people here.”

“Well, Rumple was quite determined, and Storybrooke does care.”

All in all, there were over a dozen people, some of whom Belle didn’t know. Regina, Robin Hood, Hook, Henry, Emma, and her parents all came to support her. Zelena was there, much to Belle and Rumple’s chagrin, but he mumbled that her presence was unavoidable. Thankfully, the witch kept her mouth shut and stuck to indignant glares. Grumpy came with a few of his brothers. Rumple even mentioned the fairies played a hand in their trip, though he admitted he refused to take any with him.

When the happy reunion was over, everyone was joyful and bustling. It seemed too much at times, but Rumple was there beside her. And, It was nice to see so many friendly faces as well as the shop which had been like a second home for a while.

She was touched that Rumple did all of this for her, just to be with her. She had no idea that this many people cared at all or even thought about her; she had never fit in much in Storybrooke. And, amongst all the smiles and kind words the Dark One was nowhere to be found.

“I need to show you something else, Belle,” he told her, and he dipped into the shop. He came back out holding a sparkling red rose in a bell jar with care.

“It’s beautiful.” 

“The Blue Fairy gave it to me. She says it represents your goodness— your pure heart—proof that you can be saved.”

“Oh,” Belle said, noticing the black petals for the first time.

“But, do you know what I see when I look at this?” he said, turning to admire the rose. “Hope.”

“How can you see hope? Each black petal shows I’m losing my humanity.” She wrapped her arms around her stomach and squeezed tightly.

“Each red petal is another chance to save you. And, look how many beautiful red petals there are here.“

He held it up for a second, and they both took in the flower’s splendor. The core and the base coat were still vibrant red, though the outskirts were mottled black.

Then, he set the flower down to the side and clasped her hands in his. “All is not lost, Belle. We will win this fight.”

He kissed her hair, her forehead, her temple, her nose, her cheek.

Belle felt her body warm at his affections. Beyond that, she felt the unpleasant tinge of guilt. She didn’t deserve his love, his kisses. He didn’t know she had changed, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell him. It was easier to pretend she was the same Belle she always was and enjoy this while it lasted.

He started to lean in towards her lips when a jarring noise stopped him.

The sound of a horse whinnying in the distance halted their heartfelt reunion. Thunderous hooves followed.

“What now?” said Grumpy.

Belle tensed, and Rumple reached to wrap an arm around her. She rested her head against his shoulder.

“Stand back,” Emma said, and she came to the front of the group, her hand grazing where her weapon was holstered beneath her red leather jacket.

What appeared to be several knights charged from the path and halted right in front of them. The knights wore impressive armor with red capes.

“Who are you, and what do you want,” questioned Emma, acting both as the sheriff and the savior.

The tall dark-haired man on the front white horse spoke first. He sat like he had regal bearing, so Belle guessed he was their leader.

“I’m King Arthur of Camelot.”

Belle’s jaw dropped in awe. The King Arthur? Of the legendary knights of the round table? She was speechless. Beside Her Handsome Hero, King Arthur of Camelot was one of her favorite books. She had read all sorts of books about Camelot and Arthur’s adventures, and what excited her even more was that Arthur must know Merlin as well which means he was within reach. It seemed her luck was changing for the better.

Belle was so caught up in her own reverie she almost didn’t catch Rumple’s reaction. His arm around her tightened, and when she looked up at his face, his lip twitched in irritation, and his brow deepened. It was subtle enough that she doubted anyone save her even noticed, but she knew something was wrong. She wondered what stories of Arthur he must have heard to make him act so, but before she could ask, Arthur was speaking again.

“We’ve come to find you."

“Find us?” Hook said, stepping up beside Emma.

Neither Belle nor Rumple seemed inclined to speak, having had enough excitement of their own lately, but she did wonder why Arthur would come looking for them. How could he even know they would be here? She exchanged a look with Rumple as they stood on the sidelines. He just shrugged, but he still had that tense look on his face though it was nealry concealed in the moment she had looked away.

“My lord,” said the King’s second above his chestnut stallion. “They think their arrival is a surprise.”

“You were expecting us?” said Snow White.

Arthur nodded. “It was Merlin. He wrote it in a book of prophecy that our scholars have recently recovered. He foretold your coming thousands of years ago. The prophecy suggests one born with great light magic travels amongst you: the Savior.”

Belle smiled. This was good news indeed.

Arthur knows Merlin. Perhaps he can even tell us where to find him.

“So, which of you is it?” Arthur asked, looking at them expectantly.

Everyone’s eyes went to Emma where she stood at the front of the group. For as long as Belle could remember, Emma was Storybrooke’s savior. She handled everything from parking violations to ice monsters running rampant. Although, Belle did wonder how exactly someone became a savior.

“Yeah, that would be me,” Emma said, taking a step forward, and her parents smiled proudly from behind her.

Arthur nodded. “The prophecy states that the Savior will fight a great evil. This is vague, of course, but there is only one great evil that comes to mind: the Dark One. That demon has plagued the land for centuries, and the world will not be at rest until it is slain,” he spat bitterly. “Have you heard of it?”

Everyone’s eyes widened, then began to shift to Belle. She was uneasy with the sudden burst of attention, and she shifted from under Rumple’s arms. Still, she figured it was best to be honest, especially in the face of someone as noble and heroic as King Arthur. She took a step forward outside of Rumple’s embrace and opened her mouth to come clean—

“The Dark One? Never heard of it,” Rumple quickly interjected, and he reached for hand.

So much for honesty.

She didn’t understand what he was up to. Why would he lie? She looked at him, but he just squeezed her hand in his, and she could only trust him.

Emma looked behind her, and glared at Rumple, but he gave her an offensive gesture back that just dared her to deny him.

Somehow Arthur remained oblivious to all their drama.

“Ah, that is a shame, but I suppose it was too much to hope for.”

“You mentioned Merlin,” said Belle, changing the subject. “Where is he?"

“We were told he’s been missing,” added Emma.

“For years, yes. But not for much longer. Because according to his prophecy, you’re destined to reunite him with us,” he told Emma. He smiled for the first time and touched the hilt of his sword which Belle guessed must be Excalibur.

“Now then, if you’ll all follow me.”

“Where?” asked Emma.

“Why, Camelot, of course.”

He turned his horse around and led the procession to Camelot.

When Belle went to pull Rumple along, he froze.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, and everyone looked back at them.

“Nothing, I’m just happy to see you again, Sweetheart.” It was a lie; they both knew it. Of course, they were ecstatic to be together again, but something more was making him hesitate. He seemed overly on edge.

Belle gave him a look, widening her eyes, and he returned it, looking around at everyone staring at them.

She understood. He would explain things later, but he didn’t trust the company around them enough for it now. Which Belle found odd since he must have trusted them enough to seek out their help and travel with them.

“Well, as soon as you’re ready we should get a move on. I am eager to escort you to my castle,” said Arthur.

“Of course,” said Belle with a polite smile, and she pulled Rumple along who seemed to get over whatever was bothering him and followed the group.

Arthur and his knights rode at the front; Emma and Hook walked behind them followed by Charming and Snow White, next Henry, Regina, Zelena, Robin Hood, and Roland, then Granny, Red, and the dwarves. And finally, Belle and Rumple brought up the rear.

The walk to Camelot was a few hours, but Belle didn’t mind walking as much with her love and friends by her side and hope in her heart. The whole walk Rumple held her hand in his, leaning into her, whispering anecdotes. He told her all about how he came to Camelot, starting with appealing to the heroes in the diner, and she told him about becoming friends with Merida.

“How did you manage all this?” Belle asked him. Less than 12 hours ago, she was sobbing as the Dark One berated her, and now she was wrapped up in the arms of her true love as King Arthur himself escorted them to Camelot. It was extraordinary.

“I had to find you. I knew I couldn’t give up. And I also had help.”

“Did everyone really volunteer to help you find me, just like that?”

“Is that so hard to believe? Small town rallying behind its beloved librarian?”

“Is that how they see me?”

“My darling Belle, you are so much more.” He kissed her. “Are you looking forward to Camelot?”

“Of course, I am. If the legends are true it’s an incredible kingdom and fortress.”

“Big castle, warm bath, soft bed, and … a good book.”

Belle gasped in excitement at the image he painted with his words.

“Do you think they’ll have a copy of Her Handsome Hero?” 

“Renowned King of Camelot? I’m sure we can scrounge up one simple adventure novel.”

 “It might give me an excuse to look around the library. Maybe, there’s more there that can tell us about Merlin and the Dark Curse.” Belle smiled as she looked at him. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being my handsome hero."

He blushed slightly.

She liked that she could impact him so, that her feelings actually had an effect on him. “I must admit I am looking forward to a warm bath.”

“Oh?”

“Camping life isn’t for me.” She paused thoughtfully. “Looking forward to that soft bed too,” she said, and she meant it.

He chuckled.

“Surely, you wouldn’t want such a large bed all to yourself?” he whispered

“I think I could manage some company.” Belle smiled back at him, and he made a happy noise.

As they approached the gates of Camelot, it was every bit as magical as Belle expected. The walls practically glimmered with massive stone towers, gold trim, and blue rooftops. The entrance had regal red banners on either side of the pathway, and Camelot’s insignia waved on the many flags at the tops of the tower.

She couldn’t help feeling that something was off. There was an odd sort of magical shimmer to the palace, and she could tell Rumple felt it too by the puzzled look he gave her. Though, he didn’t mention it, and she put it out of her mind, content to simply enjoy the moment at hand. Soon enough, they would have privacy to discuss their concerns.

After Arthur had relieved himself of his horses and knights, he led them into the front entrance. Trumpets blared celebrating the King’s return, and the massive gates were pulled open by servants.

“Welcome to Camelot, Sweetheart,” whispered Rumple.

And Belle’s heart swelled.

As she hugged Rumple’s arm and strolled into Camelot, she could almost forget the pain of the days as she was overwhelmed with love. It felt like things were really beginning to look up, and she believed they actually could get their happy ending.

Almost.

The Dark One glowering at her from the shadows cast by the pillars as she walked past was a stark reminder that things were not over. The peace that fell over her was an illusion.

Her happy ending was still far, far away.

Chapter 12: A Rose as Red as Coal

Summary:

Rumplestiltskin and his traveling companions wake up in Mr. Gold’s pawnshop.

Rumplestiltskin was standing in the middle of a snowy forest clearing in his tailored three-piece suit. It was beautiful, really, a picturesque blizzard. Snowflakes danced through the air and landed delicately on the shoulders of his overcoat and his eyelashes, contrasting nicely with his dark outfit.

He blinked to get the cold water globes out of his vision. While the snowflakes were gentle and affectionate, the wind was bracing, and it chafed at his nose and cheeks, making them an uneven shade of red. Clenching his teeth against the cold, he shivered and tried to soak up the warmth inside his clothes. 

Something was very oddly familiar about the peaceful wintery scene.

He looked around admiring the glossy snow and ice around him. Upon glancing down, he saw her and bit back a smile. His heart swelled pleasantly at such a sweet image.

What was Belle doing playing in the snow? They should go inside; she might catch a cold like this.

He wanted to reach out and give her a hand up, but something made him stop.

She morphed before him. She shivered, no she trembled. No, she wasn’t playing in the snow. She was crouched over in the snow, keening. Her pupils were dark and dilated, her eyes downcast and rimmed with red like a solar eclipse. Her cheeks were puffy and thin, and she was so pale he could clearly make out bleak tear streaks that had dried and frozen down her face.

It was strange to see Belle like this, cowering in distress. It was so unlike her.

“Belle?” he said shakily, and as the words left his mouth, he felt an icy sheet of dread pour over him.  This was wrong. This wasn’t the way things had happened. This was very, very wrong.

She looked at him for only a moment with such terror and despair it felt like a punch to the gut. Then she looked down again, shaking her head vigorously as tangled mahogany locks shook off the gathering snow like a wet dog. She swayed as if she might be sick any moment, and Rumple’s heart was filled to the brim with worry.

“No! No, Belle!” she whimpered alongside jerky disjointed movements.

Rumple felt his heart sink to his shoes. No, no, no, no! This was all wrong.

He desperately wanted to move, to grab Belle and pull her into his arms and just hold her. He wanted to soothe and warm her and promise everything would be alright. But, he couldn’t. He was frozen in place, paralyzed as if he were just another tree in the glistening snow-covered forest. All he could move were his eyes, but he didn’t dare look away from Belle.

“No, B-b-b,“ she stammered, trailing off into a series of unintelligible whines.

He was struck numb with emotion and had to force himself to inhale which only made things worse as the bitter cold choked him. Tears stung his eyes and threatened to pool over. Stop! Stop! he thought. It should be me! It should be me!

Another voice spoke; dark and echo-like, it sounded like it came from underwater. He tried to focus on what the other voice was saying, but he was panicking too much to concentrate. At first he could only hear the sound of his heart pounding frantically in his ears.

Then, he heard the next few words as the stranger barked out:

“Kill him!”

Slowly, Belle locked eyes with him again and stopped her trembling. A single shiver ran from her head to her shoulders, down her back, and her haunches, leaving her stock solid and alert. Her stare was steely, and it frightened him.

“Belle?” he said again, but she didn’t respond.

She didn’t even seem to recognize her own name.

As she stared at him with a feral look in her eyes, he felt his heart stop in his chest, and the whole world melted away.

He felt as if he had just fallen into the lion enclosure.

But, Belle would never hurt him. She wouldn’t hurt him. He silently pleaded to her with his eyes not to hurt him. But, it was futile. She didn’t belong to him. She didn’t even belong to herself. She belonged to the words, the spoken command— that which cannot be denied.

She fell over and moaned, reminding him of a wounded animal. Was she fighting the darkness or just too mad to act?

He didn’t know what to do. Should he go to her or run away? 

The way she looked at him, like she didn’t know him, like he wasn’t even human—he believed she might hurt him.

All he could do was stand there in the face of certain disaster. The edges of his vision blackened. His heart raised into his throat, and the hairs on his arm stood on end, his skin tingling from more than just the cold now.

He should have stayed. He should have fought. The sheer terror was overwhelming, and he did the only thing he knew to do.

He ran.

He caved first, averting his eyes and running away from her as fast as he could. He couldn’t tell if it was because his eyes were shut, or he was losing consciousness, but all he saw was darkness. He didn’t look back at her as he darted into the void but only registered the broken sobs turned shrill cry from behind him.

“Rumplestiltskin!”

Rumple bolted upright in bed, and his eyes flashed open, pupils large. He felt like he had run a marathon; his heart thundered inside of him. The loud ringing in his ears calmed to a soft whir before it tapered off entirely. The pillow underneath him was damp with his sweat. He looked around and found he was lying on the cot in the back room of his shop.

It wasn’t real, he sighed. It was just a bad dream, not real. What’s going on?

He dropped his head into his hands rubbing at his temples to deter the inevitable headache.

The last he could remember was walking into Camelot with Belle at his side and hope in his heart. Why was he back at the shop? Where was everyone?

Where’s Belle?

To ease his mind, he lifted a hand to his suit jacket feeling for the sharp edge of the dagger. A fresh wave of panic surged through him as he clutched and grabbed at the unfamiliar fabric but found nothing there. He shed the blue coat and dug through all the pockets, but it was still missing.

He frowned, and his expression darkened. He knew he shouldn’t have trusted all those people, shouldn’t have brought them with him. He should’ve done this alone. Someone stole the dagger from right under him. When he figured out who, he would surely make them pay.

Belle trusted him with that dagger, and he’d lost it. And, he’d lost her evidently.

He shuddered. That dream had shaken him to his core and especially so soon after his last nightmare.

They say that dreams, dreams are memories, memories of another life.

He shook his head. He wouldn’t feel at ease until he found Belle again.

When he felt calm enough to start moving, he looked to his side and saw his cane. Well, not his but the improved cane Geppetto had crafted with the shiny platinum handle and jazzy buttons down the side. The cane was propped up next to the head of the bed frame with care, as if someone had intentionally placed it there, so it would be immediately accessible when he awoke. He didn’t remember putting it there. He couldn’t remember lying down at all. It was there though; he might as well use it rather than limping around until he found his other cane. Wrapping his hand around the top, he used the cane to lift himself off the cot and discovered his body stiff.

As he straightened himself and distractedly put his suit jacket back on, he heard a soft snuffling.

”Belle?” He walked to the end of the bed where he saw…his grandson.

Henry was leaning against the foot of the bed frame, his arms crossed, and his head slumped forward. Rumple squatted beside Henry, gently touching his shoulder.

“Henry,” he whispered.

Henry opened his eyes wide and looked around before he spotted Rumple. “Grandpa? What’s going on?” Henry slurred drowsily.

“I’m not sure, but I’m going to find out.” 

Henry pulled at his sleeve, and Rumple noticed Emma and Hook sleeping against the back wall of the shop. Emma’s head rested on Hook’s shoulder, and her mouth hung open, but she didn’t make any noise. The lovers’ arms intertwined in a loose handhold, their legs outstretched in front of them.

Rumple nodded to Henry, who crawled over to rouse his mother.

The back was a bit of a mess, and Rumple took careful steps to avoid broken glass and figurines. Uncertain what he would find, he brandished the cane, ready to use it as a weapon if need be. He pulled back the curtain, revealing the front of the shop and…nothing.

He didn’t see anything, that is until he looked down and saw the mass of people sprawled on the shop floor. Some were sleeping, some were blinking slowly, and others still were slowly standing up and looking around. He saw Regina, Zelena, Robin Hood, Roland, Snow White, Prince Charming, Granny Lucas, Ruby, and even the bloody dwarves. But, no Belle.

Emma and Hook came from the back, closely followed by Henry.

“Hey,” said Emma. “What’s going on?”

“Belle. She’s gone,” Rumple said numbly.

It felt like he was still in a dream. He kept looking around, hoping he had just missed her among the dozers.

Emma squeezed his shoulder gently and walked past him to look around the shop with Hook trailing.

“Where are we?” said Robin from the front left.

He stood up and pulled a drowsy Roland into his arms, both sporting a similar somber frown.

Zelena, near Robin, lifted the shades apart at the front window and peered out.

“I’ve a feeling we’re not in Camelot anymore.”

“Obviously,” said Regina, smoothing her clothes as she stood. It was only then that Rumple could focus enough to realize they were all wearing Enchanted Forest attire.

Regina was in a slim, blood red dress with silver trim, her hair curled over her shoulder. Emma was in an ivory ball gown with sparkly chiffon skirts. Hook, well, Hook was still in a pirate’s black leather jacket. Henry wore a loose fitting red leather jerkin over a white shirt with brown pants. The Charmings wore the outfits they had donned as prince and princess. Robin Hood wore a simple smock with a dark green cloak. Zelena wore an ugly blue dress that clashed with her eyes over an eggshell chemise, and she seemed offended that her outfit was much less ornate than the others.

Rumplestiltskin looked down to see himself in a formal outfit, a long velvet royal blue coat with gold trim, black trousers and boots, a frilly white shirt and cravat, a golden waistcoat—almost identical to the outfit he had worn for their ballroom dance. He had been too dazed to notice it earlier, but now Rumple cringed at the absurdity of the ensemble.

“Well, I think it’s safe to say we were in Camelot,” Ruby said from the sidelines, pulling down the hood of her red cloak.

The door to the shop swung open.

Rumple’s heart leapt with the hope that Belle was entering and fell again when he saw two of the dwarves. Sneezy and the other one—Pesky was it? No, that wasn’t right, but somehow more fitting.

As they made their entrance, “Pesky” nudged Sneezy, and their eyes widened, apparently surprised by the new arrivals.

“We’re closed,” Rumple said automatically.

“Seriously, Gold?” Emma snorted from behind him.

“Closed?” said Sneezy. “You’re not even supposed to be here.“

Rumple hardly tuned in to the chatter as he tried to process the events. He didn’t believe Arthur was up to any good, but how could he have the power to curse them and send them back to Storybrooke? And, where the hell was Belle in this mess?

“What do you mean?” Emma said.

This time Pesky answered. “You left to find the Sorcerer and the Dark One in Camelot."  He paused and looked around. “Where are they?”

“I-" Emma stuttered. “I’m not sure.”

“What happened?” Snow asked.

“We’re back,” Charming stated the obvious.

“Bloody hell,” breathed Hook.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” said Regina slowly. “We were just walking into Camelot.”

“What the hell are we wearing?” said Grumpy, calling attention to the old-fashioned outfits. Rumple heard someone chuckle in his direction, but when he glared around the room, no one was looking at him anymore. “Sneezy, what happened? How long were we gone?”

“Six weeks.”

“Six weeks?!” growled Rumple, brought back into the conversation.

That couldn’t be right! They were only in Camelot for hours, and it was just a few days before that Belle became the Dark One.

“Our memories, they’re gone,” Charming said.

“Again?” Snow whispered, holding Prince Neal tightly to her bosom, and Charming wrapped her in his arms to comfort her.

“Have you seen Belle?” Grumpy questioned his brothers.

“No,” Pesky said. “We haven’t seen her since before you left for Camelot. We thought she was with you.”

So did I.

“Where’s Belle?” said Henry, stepping closer to Rumple and resting his hand on his arm.

“I don’t know,” admitted Rumple. He looked at the door. “But, I’m going to find her.”

The crowd seemingly parted as he limped angrily to the front of the shop.

No one wants to get in my way—good.

Regina was standing in front of the front door barring his way with her arms crossed.

He opened his mouth, about to tell her off, when the air in the room changed.

A chilly breeze whooshed in from the back of the shop behind him, lifting his hair off his shoulders slightly and raising the hairs on his nape. The lights dimmed, and he smelled the intoxicating tar of dark magic mixed with black tea, roses, and a hint of sugar. The scent was so overpowering, it made his mouth water. He had an anxious feeling in the pit of his stomach like had been plopped into the middle of a horror movie and some idiot was just about to open the closet door.

That was the first indication that something was wrong.

The second was the expression on Regina’s face in front of him. Her jaw had dropped, and by the time she managed to regain composure and shut it, her eyebrows raised to her hairline, and a half-smirk tugged at the corners of her mouth in reaction to what had just appeared behind him.

The topper on the cake of impending doom was the voice—chipper and airy, unphased by the heaps of dark magic swirling around the shop. It was clear and lyrical and stripped of substance aside from an almost imperceptible lilt, an unforgettable accent.

“You found me!” she chirped from behind him. “You were always so good at finding.”

Rumple felt his face redden, and a shiver ran down his back.

Somewhere to the side, he heard Zelena snigger.

Of course, he would have to turn around at some point. As tempting as it was to just walk out the door and pretend this never happened, he owed it to Belle to face her no matter what dark force had its hold on her.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, counted to three in his head, exhaled slowly, and spun around in a neat circle with the cane to balance him before opening his eyes.

He wasn’t sure what he had expected, but it wasn’t this.

Beautiful was nowhere near an adequate word to describe her. She was breathtaking, literally. Between her undeniable attractiveness and overbearing darkness, he had to work to catch his breath. It was like seeing the moon for the first time: all-encompassing, captivating, and enough to drive him loony.

Her hair was a much darker brown, almost black, with reddish highlights catching in the dim light of the shop. It was teased and dressed in tremendous curls. Her smooth skin was abnormally pale like the color had been sucked out of it, a polished glimmering alabaster. If Rumplestiltskin was “the crocodile,” then Belle was some exotic species of albino snake.

Her eyes were a dark metallic indigo like the depths at the bottom of the ocean: mysterious and deadly. The pressure in them alone made him want to collapse in on himself. Dark circles skirted her eyes, but liquid mascara and smoky eyeshadow were artfully placed to give the impression of a manufactured appearance. Her luscious lips were dark red like drying blood.

The Dark Curse hadn’t made her hideous, quite the opposite. It had made her viciously attractive like a Venus fly trap.

He couldn’t look away. As Rumple’s eyes grew to the size of dinner plates, he had to force himself not to move closer, hypnotized as he was.

She wore a dark red leather outfit with black lace that accentuated her figure and matched the red of her lips over a golden silk blouse. Her legs, covered in tight black leather pants, were crossed at the knees as she perched on the top of his counter, facing him her body tilted slightly to the left, a perfect model. She gave Hera, and Aphrodite, and every other Greek goddess a run for their money, and he would give her the apple of discord in a heartbeat.

Her expression was a pout overlaying a grin, a beautiful ingenue. She wore sleek black stilettos with a thin ankle strap that bounced as she kicked the higher leg up and down playfully.

In her delicate hands, she played with the Dark One Dagger, turning it in her left hand while poking the tip into her right index finger teasingly. She tilted the blade back and forth, so everyone could clearly see her name on it.

Belle had trusted him with the Dagger. It seemed like just an hour ago she had placed it in his hands, and they professed their undying love. She seemed like a completely different person than the one he held in his arms in Camelot. And now, she reclaimed the Dagger.

How? But, more importantly, why?

Though it was difficult to worry about something as trivial as a magic dagger when Belle was still flaunting her debut.

Around her neck hung a shimmering sterling silver chain with several diamonds inlaid on the front, which sparkled and shined in the flickering overhead light. The necklace hung deliciously over her cleavage with the pendant resting just over her breasts.

Is that?

That’s the necklace he gave Lacey. It dazzled, making her stand out even more and posing a worthy rival to her sparkling eyes.

Damn, at least she’s sentimental.

It wasn’t until she cocked her head at him, coyly scolding him for gawking, that he noticed a nearly fresh bruise at the base of her neck just above where it met her shoulder. The blemish stuck out against her flawlessly fair skin, and it made his blood curdle. All he could do is glare at the offensive thing.

Who would dare hurt Belle?

She smiled at him, scooted herself to the edge of the counter until she slipped off with a clack of her sharp heels hitting the dusty wooden floors. She took a few sauntering steps towards him, still holding the dagger lazily in her left hand and tapping the tip to her right hand to the rhythm of her heels.

Standing at her full height directly in front of him, he realized her 5-inch heels made her just as tall as him. Actually, no, she was a quarter of an inch taller now. He could tell because he had to look up slightly to catch her eyes, and it only made her more delighted. Despite the height, she strutted in them like a born diva.

Still smiling, she curtsied theatrically before him, mockingly pulling out imaginary skirts as she did so. “Mr. Gold,” she greeted politely.

He wasn’t sure if he should be enticed or frightened.

It was all too much, and Rumplestiltskin swallowed the lump in his throat before he could speak.

“Belle?!”

She rose, and the room fell into a deafening quiet, as she batted her eyelashes, waiting for him to say something more. Unfortunately, he was too dumbfounded to find more words than that.

“Achoo!”

On her left, Sneezy nervously let out a loud sneeze, illegally breaking the tacit silence she had instilled. Spit landed on his fingers, and he sniffled and wiped his shaky hand on his pants.

A look of disgust flashed over Belle’s face, but she kept her eyes locked on Rumple.

As close as he stood, he could see the minute details of her fury, her eyes narrowing to slits and her nostrils flaring.

“Bless you,” she sneered.

Sensing the danger of having Belle’s attention, Sneezy’s eyes grew and another nervous sneeze began to grip him. He desperately tried to contain it, his eyes watering and nose twitching.

“Ah, ah, ah—”

She didn’t even turn to face him when she waved her hand, turning him into stone before he could finish.

On the other side of the shop, Snow White gasped, and Prince Charming pulled her closer in a protective hug.

Finally, Belle turned to appreciate her stony victim, a smile prickling at her lips.

“That’s better. Maybe next time, you’ll have the good sense to use a tissue around me, hm?” She summoned a tissue in her free hand and wiped it over the Dwarf’s stony face. Though it did little good other than buff her ego with his whole body frozen into hard rock.

Frightened, definitely frightened.

“Belle, what are you doing?” Rumple asked. He didn’t understand what could have happened to make Belle this way. It seemed just yesterday she almost broke down at the prospect of ripping out a heart, and now she was creating garden gnomes for his collection.

Belle twisted her head back to face him, dropping the tissue.

“I have suffered far too long at the hands of the ‘good’ citizens of Storybrooke. No more! I’m going to punish everyone for how they’ve wronged me.” She seemed to go from apoplectic rage to hysterical amusement, with no in between.

 She flounced around the room causing people to cringe, take a step back, and avoid eye contact in a futile effort to dodge her ire.

Rumple stayed where he was in the center of the room but followed her with his eyes.

Starting with the people on her right, she browsed her victims, looking so casual she could have been window shopping for antique jewelry rather than threatening people.

“The big bad wolf who left me chained in the library,” Belle snarled and glanced at Ruby without stopping her tour.

Ruby, for her part, shrank back and whimpered, in guilt or fear he couldn’t tell. Beside her, Granny folded her arms. If looks could kill, well, Granny still would be powerless against Belle’s dark power, but he could guess Belle would not be getting a discount on her next hamburger order. Not that this Belle would even bother with hamburgers. She probably got enough sustenance from the fear in the air.

Unbothered, Belle passed by the front window next.

“The Wicked Witch who enslaved my husband and commanded him to kill me.”

Zelena smiled back at Belle, but Rumple could tell it was a front by the way her chin quivered, and her blue eyes grew. She was scared, and she even took a step back, her hands hitting the window behind her. There was nowhere to go, but luckily for Zelena, Belle had bigger grievances to address.

She passed Regina at the front door with long strides, her head held high, barely sparing her a glance. “The Evil Queen who imprisoned me for 28 years.”

Regina raised her eyebrows and folded her arms. She made to argue, but Belle had already glided past her to the other side of the shop.

She passed Emma who was frowning at her.

“The Savior who didn’t once save me,” Belle said, and Emma actually looked guilty and at a loss for words. Was that true? In a way, he supposed. Belle was trapped in the asylum for 28 years waiting for the curse to be broken, and whenever Zelena or Hook attacked Belle, the Sheriff was conveniently absent.

Negligence, he suspected, was the least of Belle’s accusations.

Perhaps, that’s why Belle was completely nonchalant. She was until she came upon Hook.

Hook was less bothered than Emma. He patted Emma’s shoulder comfortingly, but when Belle looked at him, he glowered back.

“Spit it out, Dark One,” he growled, making him the first not rendered totally speechless by Belle. The vein in his forehead was noticeable with his anger, and he clenched his jaw in anticipation.

Belle smiled as she stood in front of him and gave him an appraising look, apparently pleased with what she saw. Delicately she grazed her fingers over his hook, tracing it affectionately and lifting it up to drag the point up her chest and over her neck.

“The pirate who tried to kill me,” she purred. And then, with a pout she threw down his arm. “FOUR TIMES!”

Hook didn’t even flinch. He bared his teeth, and they glared at each other silently. The tension between them was so powerful Rumple could’ve sworn he saw a spark of dark magic pop between them. There was such malice in their unconventional staring contest that Rumple was surprised neither of them had attempted to stab the other already.

Eventually, Belle got bored and looked away from Hook with a wink and a pop of her heel. She did a graceful twirl into the center of the shop, spinning right back to where she started in front of Rumple.

She took a single step forward, closing the space between them. Raising the hand holding the dagger, Belle gently stroked it over his face.

He didn’t dare move a muscle as the blade traced his cheekbones down to his jaw before falling limply to her side.

She lifted her right hand to his chest, smoothing the area where he had kept the dagger.

He should’ve moved her hand or demanded an answer, but her touch was so gentle and devoted, he could only manage to shut his eyes and enjoy it, pretending it was just Belle caressing him and none of the darkness.

The charade was up when she began stroking his cravat.

He flashed his eyes open just in time to see her straighten and tighten it like she used to with his ties. It was so domestic he would’ve smiled if she hadn’t just been issuing threats like calling cards.

She continued to tighten the cravat, bringing the knot up, so it was just a bit too tight for him, and he managed to suck in a breath. She looked down at him sadly, brushing her fingers over his chest.

“And, the coward who broke my heart.”

Everyone else in the shop was completely silent and captivated by their showdown.

As she held his gaze, he wished he could just talk with the hint of Belle he saw behind the blue eyes. She was in there somewhere, he was sure of it. He just had to find a way to bring her out.

“Belle, what happened to you?” he whispered so quietly he doubted anyone but her could hear him.

She took a step back, wiping the sad look off her face and returning the smug grin. She spread her arms out, gesturing to her new appearance. “Isn’t it obvious?” she sneered. “You went to Camelot to get the Darkness out of me. You failed, you failed, you failed,” she teased, bringing down the dagger in an arc to emphasize each phrase.

“No.” Rumple shook his head. “I refuse to believe it’s too late. I spent over 200 years as the Dark One. If I can become a hero after everything, so can you. I can fix this. I can save you.” He took half a step forward and attempted to reach out to her before his arms faltered at her indifference. “Belle, please. You just need to—"

“I chose this fate!” she cut him off, her shriek slicing the air. She took a step forward and stomped her foot, throwing her hands down in a fit of anger.

“I don’t need you to ‘save me,’” she said, and then she worked to regain her composure, taking a breath and smoothing her blouse before stroking the Dagger. She looked down at it. “I chose this path. I cannot change it now.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

Belle looked up from the Dagger with ice in her eyes, and he thought she might spiral out of control again. Instead, she smiled thinly.

The next few minutes seemed to work outside of the dimension of time. The shop and all inhabitants faded away, and Rumple could only be aware of him and Belle. Things moved entirely too fast, making Rumple feel helpless to react. Before he knew it, this was the unchangeable past, and he would be left with the rest of his life wondering what Belle had been thinking.

All the same, time was abominably slow. Even though Belle’s movements were quick, he couldn’t miss a thing she did. She didn’t seem to be in a hurry. Though her movements were smooth, time itself felt halted, and the only way he could be sure time moved at all was the rapid pounding of blood in his ears.

 She reached out and stroked the snowy cravat she had meticulously straightened a few minutes earlier. Carefully gripping it, she tugged it from out of his waistcoat gently pulling it towards her, and Rumple could only follow her movements, shuffling closer to his tether.

He hesitated, and she dropped the cloth.

Then, she took a few careful steps forward, leg over leg, swinging her hips and closing the distance between them entirely, so he could feel her chest pressing up against him as she looked into his eyes, beaming. The heady smell from earlier filled his nose, inundating his senses, and he didn’t want to even exhale lest her scent escape from him.

She leaned her face even closer.

Rumple thought she might kiss him, and, oh, but he would happily oblige. His mouth was suddenly very dry, but he couldn’t find the energy to care. He leaned in closer, his lips hanging slightly slack as he surrendered.

Absurd as it felt, kissing her in the middle of his shop with everyone watching after she just made a scene, perhaps, it was meant to be. As ridiculous a notion as it sounded, his head was in his heart, and he wanted to have faith more than reason. He wanted to believe if they kissed it would fix everything. That was what true love’s kiss was, wasn’t it? A cure all, the most powerful magic. If he could kiss her, he could break this damned curse, and everything would be alright. Everything would be perfect. They would be happy.

But, he never got the chance.

Just before their lips touched, when he could feel her cool breath bouncing off his skin, she pulled back teasingly, leaving him to stumble forward clumsily in an intuitive movement to follow her, and she giggled.

He looked at her in confusion, waiting for an answer.

Instead, she waved her left hand down, and in a puff of blue smoke, the Dagger disappeared.

In its place appeared a rose.

No, not just a rose. Belle’s rose. The beautiful magical red rose the Blue Fairy had given him to gauge the goodness alive in Belle.

Only, it wasn’t red anymore.

It was pitch black, and voluptuous petals overlapped in a gorgeous ebony display atop a long green stem.

Upon seeing the rose, Rumple was stupefied, but Belle didn’t miss a beat.

She raised the rose up to her face inhaling the scent deeply and humming on her exhale. Then, she titled it horizontally and stuck out her tongue. Was her tongue always that long? It was a deep red and snakelike in a way that couldn’t be natural. She rolled the bottom of the rose into her mouth and over her tongue licking her way slowly up toward the top until the whole thing was almost dripping in her saliva. She seemed to relish in the leisureliness of the activity.

A fingertip’s length away from the flower, she abruptly stopped and tore the stem between her fang-like teeth. She let the length of the stem fall out, and it fluttered down to the shop floor, discarded, useless.

Pinching the short remains of the stem between her thumb and forefinger, she carefully pinned the rose to the gold lapel of his coat, marking him with the symbol of her depravity.

She smiled at it approvingly, and with an upwards flourish of her dainty hand, she summoned a puff of azure smoke and disappeared from the shop.

Notes:

I’m planning on doing a part 2. I’m going to wait until I have a full outline and ending planned before I start posting it. Please let me know what you would like to see in a potential sequel. I already have some ideas, but feedback is always nice.

Thank you very much to everyone reading the Dark Beauty, especially those giving kudos and comments. When I started this I didn’t expect anyone to even read this so I’ve been pretty overwhelmed by the positive feedback.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of The Dark Beauty