I do not own Once Upon a Time.
And I totally should have seen this coming.
As They Should Be
An openly shocked expression painted her lovely face as she stared at him.
Wide blue eyes. Strained, pale face. Dismay and confusion oozing from every perfect little pore.
When in her outrage she had stupidly thought to raise a hand against him, he had casually, calmly thwarted her feeble attempt.
It was so good to feel like his old self again.
And Mr. Gold had felt the inner imp of Rumplestiltskin let out a sardonic titter.
You really are so surprised? That I have not changed quite so much as you hoped and dreamed I had?
He gazed at her coolly now as she struggled to process his abrupt about-face.
But you shouldn't be. You really shouldn't.
They all thought, believed, he had changed so much.
And I actually have.
Yes, he had.
The recent ordeal he had endured had changed him in the subtlest of ways.
Before, he had been Rumplestiltskin, the all powerful Dark One.
Then it had been stolen from him, leaving him once again a shuddering, sniveling coward in the dust.
Limping.
Whining.
Suffering.
How he had hated all those things.
Being held against his will. Being made to beg and crawl. Being beholden to whomever was stronger, faster than him.
Being helpless.
Centuries it had been since he had been brought so low.
No more.
When he had happened upon the plan, he had been sure at first that it would not work, that he was destined to be this weak old man forever.
But hope had whispered deep in the shadowy recesses of his brain, the part of him that now and always would, sound like the hissing, slithering, convivving Rumplestiltskin.
That he could steal back his power, under their very noses.
And then he would be all powerful again. And they, they would crawl and snivel and beg to him again.
So when the opportunity had arisen, he had grasped it with both shaking, weak, desperate hands.
And vowed to never, ever let go.
No matter what.
No matter who.
Not even Belle.
Because he was never going to be that again.
Ever.
Whatever need he had ever had for his power in any of his lifetimes, could not begin to touch the height of his need for it now.
Because living helpless was a misery.
And living helpless after experiencing a millenia of sustained, nearly limitless power, was unbearable.
Never again.
And so now, looking at her standing there before him, virtually struck dumb, he allowed a small smirk to touch his dark eyes, the corners of his thin lips.
Foolish child. I will always be the true Dark One.
Forever.
And the sooner you get used to that truth, the better.
Duuuudes, how awesome was that?! I mean, here Gold's all reformed and such and then BAM! Mack truck to the face! I literally just stared with my mouth hanging open, ha!
Anyway, hope you enjoyed this little blurt.
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