Just Another Fairytale
Part One.
Baelfire had never been so terrified in his life, and there had been plenty of opportunities in his short fourteen years. There'd been plague and war and dangers all around, but nothing frightened him more than seeing a demon wearing his father's face. Those amber eyes, wild and frightening, had stared at him as he spoke with a voice that sounded like his papa, but didn't. There'd been none of his usual stammer as he'd stated how very unafraid he was because he'd protected what belonged to him. The words sent chills down Bae's spine and he had stumbled away. He was next. He knew he was next. The demon was going to kill him in the rage that had come over him and had left the knights sprawled out across the yard dead or… one was still dying. He was making a terrible sound now as his blood stained the dirt, flowing out of him so fast that there'd be no saving him even if anyone were brave enough to move to. Not that anyone was.
"Bae," the demon said again, taking a step forward with that blood-covered knife still dangling from his loose grip. The rising sun caught the name scrawled there and Bae knew the letters. His papa had taught him to read as a young child and he knew his own father's name as well as he did his own.
"I don't… I don't understand," he whispered, but he was more afraid that he did. That beggar told me a fine tale, Rumplestiltskin had said. Bae shuddered and fell back, suddenly looking up. He'd thought that it was his papa at first, but now he was certain that it wasn't. He couldn't possibly be his father. When he managed to speak again, his voice sounding so young even to his own ears as he spoke. "Where's my papa?"
"Bae, son," the imposter's voice was softer now, lower, and he knelt down next to the quaking boy, one terrible, scaly hand coming to the side of his face in the affectionate gesture his father had always used to calm him. It was rough against his cheek, even if the touch was meant to be gentle. "It's me, Bae."
The other villagers had begun to creep out of their homes, just as afraid of the Dark One as they had been of Hordor coming to steal their children. Murmurs rose up and the demon looked around before gathering Bae up and when the teen opened his dark eyes again they were standing in his home. Arms were around him and he thought maybe it had all been a dream and his papa had woken him from it. He hugged him back, burying his face in the rough cloth of his tunic that smelled of of sheep's fat and the smoke that burning the wool it had soaked in had brought on. This was his papa with his arms around him and for a brief moment he felt safe again. It was only a nightmare, something he hadn't even realized he'd come out of, just like when he was young, and his papa was there to remind him that he'd never leave him alone.
"I was so afraid," the boy murmured and he felt the grip tighten.
"I wouldn't let them hurt you, Bae," his papa promised roughly, but when he pulled back he saw that it hadn't been a dream at all. Those strange eyes were staring down at him, but somewhere behind them, Bae thought he recognized someone familiar.
"Is it really you?"
"Of course it is."
He said it with such certainty that Bae tried to make himself believe it. Papa would know him anywhere, and as he strained, focusing on looking behind the eyes, not just at them, he saw a flicker. "What did you do, Papa?"
"I saved your life, Bae," he answered simply, stepping away. He was sturdy on the ankle that had been destroyed all the years of Baelfire's life. He'd never wheedled the story out of his papa other than it was an injury that had allowed him to return from the war to be with Bae and had been well worth every shattered bone, every pain. It had allowed him to come home to his son.
"You killed those men."
"They were going to harm you."
There was something wrong. Well, more wrong than the fact that Bae wasn't sure if he was talking to his father or the Dark One. His fear overwhelmed the questions when he swayed dangerously though and leaned heavily on the rickety table that they took their meals at. "Papa?" Bae managed, fingers buried in the coarse material of his shirt.
"I'm alright, Bae," his father promised, but even as the words left his mouth his legs gave way and he went crashing down to the floor.
"Papa!" Bae cried and sank down next to him. The lines on his face were pronounced, even through the scales that had spread across his skin and his brows were knit closely together as he fought… something. Maybe the demon? Bae couldn't be sure. He just knew that if his father were fighting to get to him, he had to help, so he took one hand in his own and helped him sit up and lean against the table leg. He was trembling now, his eyes shut tight and fluttering behind the lids as if he were dreaming. "Papa, what's wrong?"
Rumplestiltskin cracked an eye open with some effort and squeezed his hand. Even though he looked like someone else, in that moment, Bae knew him and he knew his voice. "I love you, Bae," he rasped. "Please don't go, son."
"I'm not going anywhere," the boy whispered, pulling the hand in his own to his lips and pressing a kiss to it as his papa had done for him when he was ill. "I won't leave you. I love you too."
Rumplestiltskin was drowning. He struggled against it, flailing against the waves that tried to pull him under into the inky darkness. He couldn't see, couldn't breathe, and he was growing so tired. He felt like he'd been fighting for hours and everything hurt. It would be so much easier just to slip, to give up, and to take the coward's way out. That's what he was, anyway. No one would blame him.
"Papa? Papa, please wake up."
The spinner perked, head coming up above the crashing waves once more. Bae. That had been Bae's voice. His son still needed him and no matter how afraid he found himself, he couldn't leave Baelfire alone. He was still just a boy and Rumplestiltskin would give anything to keep him safe.
He struggled, swallowing a gulp of what he'd thought was water and it burned all the way down his throat. He coughed and choked against it, fighting harder than ever. He couldn't drown. Bae needed him.
Rumplestiltskin found himself tumbling onto solid ground then, face down against it and lungs full of whatever he'd been drowning in. He didn't know where he was or how he'd gotten there, but Bae's pleading voice still broke through it and he stumbled to his feet, right ankle nearly sending him back to the ground as it buckled beneath him. He caught himself, though, and looked around the darkness that swallowed him. "Bae?"
He can't hear you.
Rumplestiltskin's head snapped around, but couldn't find the owner of the voice that had spoken. It was as if it's come from the darkness itself a chill ran up his spine. "Who's there?" he managed, hating how his voice shook.
The chill swept around him like a ghost or a spirit and the frightened spinner knew there was no running from it. Even if he wasn't surrounded by the inky darkness, his lame leg wouldn't allow him to run.
"Please," he called out, "I just want to go home to my son. I don't have anything of value. Please let me go."
You should have thought of that before.
"Before what?" he demanded and a low chuckle filled the space around him. It bounced around off the nothingness and wrapped itself around him.
Before you gave yourself to me.
Memories crashed in like the waves. The soldiers and the decision and the fire. His hand gripping the hilt of a dagger and somehow finding the strength in his desperation to drive it into the Dark One's chest only to find what he hadn't known to watch out for. The price. He knew he'd gain power to save Bae, but the idea that he'd had to live the rest of his days as the new Dark One had never even crossed the spinner's mind. Now he was stuck and he felt the darkness weighing in on him, crushing him beneath it and trying to snuff him out. There was no escaping it.
We are now linked, Rumplestiltskin, the voice said and somehow he knew it was the curse itself. Let go and you will know more power than you can fathom.
Rumplestiltskin was terrified and trapped. It seemed that there was no way out of this place without giving into the darkness, and even as the realization set in he felt it start to take hold, spreading through him and anchoring in as it hadn't had a chance to do yet. It swirled and he felt power like he could never imagine racing through his system. He could do anything. The immediate rush that he'd felt when he had killed the knights was nothing compared to this. He could do anything in all the worlds. Every Kingdom in every land would know and remember his name. He was now the Dark One, and for the first time in centuries the Dark One possessed his own dagger.
"Papa, don't go, please," Bae's voice broke through the surge of dark magic and dark eyes blinked, halting the advance.
"Bae," he whispered and he saw his son on the far side of the little island in which he stood.
Kill him, his curse hissed. Destroy him. He will only hold you back.
Rumplestiltskin felt an unexplainable rage rise within him that needed an outlet. The boy would hold him down. He'd tried to stop him from taking the dagger in the first place, and his meddling wouldn't stop there. The curse pushed him forward and Rumplestiltskin barely noticed that his ankle didn't even twinge. It raged inside of him to protect himself, to protect this new power he'd found. He reached a scaled hand towards the young teen's neck and froze where he was as large, brown eyes turned towards him, tears having made long streaks down his face and Rumplestiltskin swallowed hard. "No."
No?
"My son is why I took on this power, this... curse. I will never betray him. Do with me what you will, but the boy lives." He had no idea where the courage was coming from, but he knew if he didn't make Bae off limits now he'd risk losing the only person he truly loved. It could have anything else. He would give anything else. Just not his boy. Not his Baelfire. "That's my deal with you."
And what do I get in return? the curse demanded hotly.
"A free host."
Rumplestiltskin came back to consciousness with a jolt, sitting straight up on his rickety little bed so suddenly that he thought himself lucky that it didn't collapse under him. He dragged in one breath and then another, feeling dry air enter and exit his lungs, and with it something more. There was strength and power flowing through him and when he looked over to his son he couldn't understand why he looked so afraid.
"Papa, I thought you were gone," Bae whispered brokenly and before Rumplestiltskin realized what he was doing the boy had his arms around his neck. His brave boy was crying, clinging to him like his life depended on it. "You fell down and wouldn't get up. I couldn't get you to answer and you just… It's been three days, Papa."
His curse screamed, but he was able to push it back, his love for his son just a little stronger and he returned the hug, holding him close and whispering apologies. "I didn't mean to frighten you. It's alright, Bae," he promised softly, his hand going to his hair in the same soothing motion that had always quieted him as a small child. "Nothing's going to hurt you or me. I've made sure of that."
"I don't understand what's happened, Papa."
His papa smiled a little. "I told you what the beggar told me, didn't I, Bae? I took the Dark One's power."
"You killed him?" his son asked, a horrified expression plastered across his face.
"I did, but it's okay, Bae. He was a bad man. He would have forced you to go fight the Duke's war, but he can't now. No one can make you do anything you don't want to."
Baelfire seemed to turn this over in his mind. He'd always been a clever boy, quick to learn and even quicker to ask questions. If he was taking his time to ask, Rumplestiltskin knew it weighed heavily on him. "If you're the new Dark One, won't that make you bad?"
A laugh bubbled out of him before he could remind himself just how frightened his son was. "No, Bae, of course not."
"Will it change you?"
It already had, and he knew it. It had made him better than a frightened little spinner could have ever hoped to be, but Baelfire was too young to understand that. Rumplestiltskin needed to protect him from the darker sides of his new power, and he could do that. He could prove that, no matter what changed, he was still his papa. He was just better, more powerful. Nothing would ever hurt them again.
"Perhaps, but not in the way that you think. I won't be like Zoso."
"Is that the man you killed?"
He did seem rather fixated on that small piece to a rather giant puzzle, didn't he? "Yes, but he was a terrible man. I can be better. I'll prove it to you." He stood and his son caught hold of his hand.
"Where are you going?" Bae asked with panic rising in his voice.
"To the Duke's castle. It's time we end this war with the ogres, don't you think? Children shouldn't be toted off to fight men's wars."
Well, apparently that had been the right promise to make, because Bae's eyes lit and he tightened his grip on his papa's wrist. "You'll do that? Will you bring Morraine back?"
"I'll bring all the children home," he swore. "Would you like to see me do it?"
Bae nodded and at least some of the fear seemed to be pushed aside. Rumplestiltskin wrapped an arm around his son's shoulders. "Hold on tight, Bae," he told him before he let his new curse pull them to the Duke's castle in a swirl of magic.
Baelfire had seen the Duke's castle from outside the walls before he'd helped his papa set his plan into motion. He'd seen it many times, in fact. It had been a game to see how close the boys and girls from the village could get to the walls without alerting the guards, and then they'd choose the child that did the best impression of a raging ogre to set the castle guards on edge. His papa had never liked the game, and it wasn't until the dangers became real - when the Duke started calling for children to fill the holes in his ranks - that had made Bae understand why.
Now they approached the front entrance as if they were guests, but Bae could still smell the smoke in the air from the fire a few nights before. "Isn't he going to know you stole the dagger?"
His papa shrugged as if it didn't matter at all, though Bae hardly could see how he planned to hide it. If the only way to become the Dark One was by killing the previous one with a specific dagger, it wouldn't take an overly clever person to put two and two together there.
Guards stood in the way of the main entrance and they turned dangerous glares on the pair. "The Duke is not hearing complaints from peasants today."
Bae watched scaly hands reach up to remove his hood and his papa's smile was dangerous. "I'm not here to complain. I'm here to make my demands."
Both soldiers went pale at the sight of him and dropped to their knees. "Dark One, forgive us. We... Didn't recognize you."
"You wouldn't now, would you?" he answered and waved a hand that sent both men tumbling to either side. He strode through the now-open path and Bae scurried to keep up. He wasn't used to his father's easy movements with what appeared to be a newly mended ankle and hasten his speed to walk just behind him, trying not to let all the distractions keep him too far back. There were plenty to catch him, from gaping makes to whispering servants. Baelfire had never seen so many people work for one man before.
His papa strode right past a stammering man with a ledger, nearly knocking him from his feet. Bae mumbled an apology and hurried after lest he get shut out behind the large doors that Rumplestiltskin sent flying open with a gust of magic.
The Duke - or at least a man dressed in clothes that probably cost more than his papa's spinning brought in for the year - turned from where he'd been speaking to another man dressed all in black. He scowled for a moment, looking as if he were ready to unleash on whoever had dared to interrupt him, but his eyes fell on Rumplestiltskin and they went wide. His gaze dipped down until it fixed on the dagger in his hand and Bae tried not to gape at his papa's - his quiet, unassuming, often very nervous papa - smug look.
"I expect," Rumplestiltskin said, pulling all attention in the room to himself, "that you already know who I am. Rumours do spread quickly through the Frontlands."
"That they do, Dark One," the Duke answered, giving a stiff bow, but never mentioning the stolen knife held between thin fingers. "It is an honour to have you here of course. Will you be staying?"
"I don't think you'll find me quite as on hand as my predecessor," he assured the elder man with a smile.
The Duke looked uncomfortable, but the man at his side looked intrigued. "Dark One, I am Sedrick, servant to this castle. I worked closely with your predecessor and hope that we can-"
Bae watched his Papa frown deeply, as if he'd found something out that Sedrick likely didn't want him too. "I'm sure you do, dearie," he chirped, "but I'm really not at all interested in what you want."
The man blinked in surprise and Bae choked off a laugh that threatened to escape. His papa glanced back at him out of the corner of his eye and though those golden eyes weren't the ones his son was used to, he saw the same bit of mischief that his father had always had, quiet as it was.
"Then what is it that you want, Dark One?" The Duke asked with what sounded like a long suffered sigh. He didn't look like he had a great deal to be long suffered over though.
Rumplestiltskin simply looked amused. "I thought you'd never asked. The children."
The Duke continued to stare at him. "Come again?"
"You heard me. You asked what I want and that's it. The children you've sent off as sacrifices to the ogres."
"I've sent no one off to be sacrificed!" the nobleman argued. "If you're referring to our younger recruits, they're of fighting age."
"Anyone's of fighting age on your say-so," Bae's papa said lowly, his voice taking a sudden and dangerous turn. The whole room went cold then, a strange and unnatural wind picking up around them and snuffing out candles until they were left with only the dim light of the setting sun outside the westernmost window. "Or they were. Now they're not, and I say they're coming home."
"I believe you've misunderstood your role in our society, Dark One."
"My role?" Rumplestiltskin demanded and even Sedrick shrank back a little at his tone. "My role has been dictated to me long enough by people like you, but no longer. You will send them home and you won't call them away again."
"There's a war on," the Duke argued.
"Not anymore."
Bae let out a small, startled sound as he felt the world drop out from under him and he found himself standing alone in the hovel. He blinked, turning to look to all four corners, but his father was nowhere in sight.
Rumplestiltskin had just managed to get Bae out of there before his new magic tore the audience chambers apart. By the time he was done and the curse had quieted to a simmering grouse in his mind people lay strewn across the great hall and only a few groans could be heard. He looked out over it and didn't feel an ounce of his old fear welling up inside of him. Instead, satisfaction sat in its place. The scales had been tipped and this coward of a peasant that the nobles likely didn't think enough of to share the air they breathed had proven his worth. He was the new Dark One and he could not be controlled.
Gold eyes turned to where the fat Duke of the Frontlands lay, having been picked up and thrown by his magic, leaving him in a crumbled and broken heap behind his throne. His sorcerer - because the Duke must have had to scramble to replace Zoso when the Dark One's dagger had come up missing - was already picking himself up from the floor where he'd landed. He ducked his head, but there was no real humility in the action. "Dark One, we do not wish to make an enemy of you."
"Good. Then stay out of my way," Rumplestiltskin growled and was gone in a puff of magic. It pulled him through and into his and Bae's home, leaving him standing somewhat unsteadily in the middle of the room. Immediately, he caught sight of his son sitting on his bed with his knees pulled up to his chest, tears streaming down his cheeks. His son had never been much of a weeper, but he'd seen the boy cry more in the last few days than he had in the last few years. "Bae? What's the matter, son?"
"You left me!" Bae growled, dark eyes flashing angrily as he looked up. "I was there and then I wasn't and you didn't come with me and I-" He stopped, a sob welling up to the point that he choked on it as it bubbled out.
"It was only a bit of magic," his papa tried to explain.
"I hate magic. I want things to go back to the way they were!"
The quiet, dark voice started to stir in his mind and Rumplestiltskin shut it out immediately. Not his son. His son was safe from him. The curse was meant to help him, not hurt him, and he'd show him that. He could convince Bae that magic was alright. He'd thought it was terrible once too, but it was only because he didn't understand. Now that he had it, now that he'd seen what it could do for them, he knew more than he could ever dream.
His movements were slow as he knelt on the dirty floor in front of his son. Bae's eyes were rimmed red and he looked so much younger in that moment than he actually was. His lips were pulled down in a heavy pout and he glared as best he could with tears still trickling out of his dark brown eyes. "I love you, Bae," Rumplestiltskin said, and reached a hand out and waited for Bae to take it.
It took a moment, but he finally did and his papa squeezed it. "I love you too." Baelfire sniffled. "I just want things to go back."
"Things will be better now."
"Things were good then."
"No, Bae, they weren't," Rumplestiltskin whispered. He'd always tried to shelter his son from the hardships of their lives. He'd gone without food so Bae could eat and he'd gone without sleep so that he could spin enough to pay for the food that wouldn't go around. Just that past winter he'd nearly lost Bae to the sickness that was going around and the year before that it had nearly gotten him. No, things had not been good or anything of the sort in some time, but this magic could make it better. He could make it better now and change their fates. "But it will be. Do you trust me, son?"
"Yeah, 'course I do, Papa."
"Then trust me in this. I will not let anything hurt you ever again, nor will I let any harm come to your friends. You still want me to go fetch Morraine and the others, don't you?"
"Can you do that?"
"Of course I can, and end this worthless war too. Would you like that, Bae?"
His son watched him, as if looking for a lie or an untruth of some kind in his words. When he didn't find one, he nodded. "Yes," he answered, his voice small.
"Then that is what I shall do," the new Dark One announced and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his son's forehead. His curse fussed but it would live. It would have to learn to.
Bae didn't know how long it took to broker a peace treaty with ogres, or even if his papa could do such a thing. He was convinced he could, and so the boy told himself again and again that it had to be true. He would be safe, he would come home, and then they could get rid of the demon that was trying to swallow him up. He didn't know how yet, but he knew that they could. He loved his papa more than anything else in all the kingdoms of the world, so he would find a way.
Night fell, and then morning came. Bae woke in a pile of blankets alone in the hovel. He'd fallen asleep on his papa's bed, face buried in the tattered old pillow he'd slept on for more years than Bae had been alive, and the loneliness that had started to set in the night before when he hadn't come home threatened to overwhelm him with morning's light. He stood slowly and shuffled across the room to take a seat at the spinning wheel by the door.
Bae's fingers touched the wheel and it squeaked a little, the sound filling up their entire home. He usually went to sleep by that sound, but it had been silent the night before. He'd never learned to spin. His papa had tried to teach him, of course, but he'd never had the patience. He had always been too busy with this or that and his father would just smile that tired smile that he had and tell him to go play and to enjoy being young. It wouldn't last forever and he wanted him to enjoy what he had.
Voices from just outside the hovel drew his attention and Bae stood, peeking through the crack in the door. The man from the evening before - Sedrick - stood in the middle of his little village. He was speaking with Morraine's mother there and she shook her head nervously. He couldn't hear what was being said, but every time she tried to step back the man took a step forward, bullying her into whatever he wanted. Bae felt his temper burn hot. Hadn't they done enough to that poor family?
He was out the door before he'd given himself permission to move. "Hey! Leave her alone!"
The guards that were with him turned, stepping between Sedrick and and the teen that was jogging out to meet them. Bae glared as dangerously as he could manage. "She hasn't done anything. Go away and leave us alone!"
"Well now, someone has their father's spirit," Sedrick nearly purred and suddenly Bae found that he couldn't move. It was as if strings had wrapped themselves around his limbs and were hauling him into the air, toes not quite touching the ground as he was pulled upward and the man in black smiled darkly. "His won't last, though. Any thoughts of making this place better will wash out when his curse takes him in full. He won't even remember that he loves you when that happens."
"Liar!" Bae growled, struggling against the magic. "Let me go!"
"I don't think I will. He'll be back shortly, I'd wager, and when he gets here he'll find an empty home. If he bothers to come looking for you, he'll find more than an inexperienced Dark One could ever handle." He turned to Morraine's mother. "You'll give him the message, won't you?"
Her eyes were wide and terrified as Sedrick smiled, his hand flicking up into the air and Bae felt the same gut-wrenching sensation that he had the evening before when his papa had used magic to teleport him away. It set him down hard in a dark, small room, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. Whent he did, he saw that the stones circled around and up further than he could ever climb, with a single window that might as well have been fifty feet above him and a door that could have kept an ogre out. He slammed up against it anyway, his fists pounding against the unyielding oak. "Let me out! Let me out!" he shouted, but it was no use. The door was locked and would budge and he was stuck. He sank to the cold, damp floor and his head thunked against the wood. "Papa," he whispered. "Please help me."
TBC
Notes: Hope you've enjoyed the beginning! The second half will (if everything goes as planned) be up on Thursday.