Author's Notes: This show. Gah. I just binge-watched seasons 1-5. Season 4 was just... so much grrr... and season 5 was just as bad except for a few high points. I really wanna smack some of these characters. Or the writers. (Really, Snow? Belle hasn't been threatened enough times that you have to deliberately manufacture yet another round of "villain gets leverage against the Dark One so we can haz Plotz!" Or was that some twisted subconscious attempt to get his attention and assistance? Don't complain then if the deal doesn't work out favorably for you! Sheesh.) And enough with the Rumbelle yo-yo. Belle is turning into Milah 2.0. Next thing we know Rumple will be 3 for 3 exes murdered. *facepalms* Anyway, it was distracting me, so I had to get this out before Season 6 crushes my soul.
Belle. Belle, listen to me.
She was asleep. She knew that, even as she stood in the room walled with mirrors, a single torch casting just enough light for her to see her own reflections. The whispers never ceased, but for the first time, she could distinguish words. His voice. How was she hearing his voice? She whispered, "Rumple?"
Sweetheart, it's time for you to waken up.
"My father —"
No, not your father. But never mind that. Before you go, I wanted you to understand. Please. I've lied to you, because I was so afraid... but I was wrong. If we don't have honesty, we have nothing at all.
She spun, trying to follow the sound of his voice. Her image wavered in the mirrors, darkened. Was there someone else? Shadowy images flickered in the background. She reached out, but touched only glass. "Where are you?"
It doesn't matter. I made a deal...
"A deal! What deal?"
More than one, actually. A ghost of laughter reached her ears. As usual. But listen, you're safe, you and our child. Free. That's the important part.
"But what about you? Rumple, what have you done? More dark magic?" She shuddered. She had believed once that he could be a hero of the light, but at every turn, he had only revealed more dark corners. How could he ever be free of it if he refused to let it go?
Only what I had to do.
"Why? Why do you love the darkness?" The words burst out of her as tears came to her eyes. Why did this shadow have to come between them? "Why do you crave power?" She hadn't asked him then, back in the underworld library, but now, lost in the cursed sleep, in endless dreams, she needed to know.
That's what I wanted you to understand. Suddenly he seemed close enough that she could feel his weary sigh brushing across the back of her neck, but when she turned, there was no one there. Then even his voice dissipated, leaving his life, his heart, in splintered images smeared across the dark mirrors of the netherworld. It was as if she was inside his thoughts, seeing his memories through his own eyes.
If he had power, maybe his father wouldn't have discarded him like a piece of trash clinging to his shoe.
If he had power, he could have ended the Ogres War, instead of crippling himself so that his newborn son would not have to grow up fatherless.
If he had power, he could have saved his son's life without having to trade away his future child to the healer whose price he could not afford.
If he had power, he could have saved his son from the war. He could have saved all the children.
If he had power, he could have saved his wife from the pirates, instead of once again making the coward's choice for the sake of not leaving his child fatherless. It was only when he did have power that he could force honesty from his wife; the painful truth was that she had abandoned them of her own free will. If he had power, perhaps she would not have left him in the first place.
In fairy tales, the hero helps an old beggar and is rewarded by the powers of Light. In his story, because he was no hero, he was rewarded with a second chance at murder in order to save his son. By then, he was desperate enough to make that choice. Zoso, the former Dark One, had goaded him into it, but it had been Rumplestiltskin's decision to kill him.
And he couldn't regret it, even now. He had saved his son. He had saved all the children. Ended the war. But all magic comes at a price, and his price was losing the one person he loved most. Because once he had taken up the power of the Dark One, he could no longer put it down. Not even for Bae.
There, too, he was given a second chance. Finally re-united with his son after centuries of remorse, he had done his best to make amends and sacrificed himself to save those he loved.
If only it had ended there. He found himself dragged back from death only to find that his son had blindly traded his own life for his father's. Rumplestiltskin saved him the only way he knew how, holding onto his son as tightly as he could. But in the process, he had to let go of the dagger, the Dark One's dagger that held his curse and his power. His son's life was preserved. But he lost everything else.
What virtue was there in weakness? For once, he had chosen love over power, but fate's punishment was harsher than ever.
He became Zelena's slave. Zelena, the Wicked Witch of the West. For months, he was held in her cage, unable to lift a finger against her, forced to attack others at her command.
In the end, he lost Bae. This time, forever. Magic could not bring back the dead. That was one law he knew better than to break. After Bae's death, he had no defense at all against Zelena's will. None. She could use him as she would. And she did.
When Zelena was defeated, he resolved never to let anyone hold such power over him again. No matter what it took.
He failed, twice over.
Villains don't get happy endings. He was stripped of power and darkness, only to wake up as the prisoner of the new Dark One. Nothing more than a tool to be shaped to her purpose. Without power, he couldn't protect Belle from her, couldn't protect anyone. He could only let himself be used.
What virtue was there in weakness?
He could have taken it back. The first time he held Killian Jones at the point of Excalibur, he could have run the pirate through and become the Dark One again. He hadn't.
And still, Belle had left him.
Worse, the pirate had used him to summon the shades of the former Dark Ones. They would drag him and a dozen others into hell, and he was powerless to stop it. His son had already died. Now his grandson was marked with doom. What was his "heroism" worth then? There was nothing left for him to do except send Belle away, then sit in his shop and wait for death. Alone.
So when the opportunity presented itself to take back the power, he took it. Of course he did. That was who he was. After so many centuries, the darkness fit comfortably into his soul. Its unending vicious rage and paranoia were no longer enough to drive him to murder or madness. Twenty-eight years as Mr. Gold had given him a reserve of sanity large enough to balance the Dark — an unexpected benefit of the curse that had brought them to the Land Without Magic.
The heroes were predictably angry.
Just as predictably, not ten seconds after confirming her suspicions, the Savior had been demanding magical favors of him: a trip to the underworld to save Killian Jones, her beloved.
The Dark One knew better than to use magic to bring back the dead, but the rules were different for heroes. Divine intervention was something else again. More than magic. But magic was what he had. He would not give it up again.
And Belle? Belle was not so different as she thought. Looking into the dark mirrors, she saw again her first meeting with Rumplestiltskin, this time through his eyes.
When he walked into that room that day, he saw them. All the lords and officers, the people with power in that kingdom. And then there was her. He knew who had truly sent for him, no matter what the messages said. The Dark One always knew who summoned him. He knew how to recognize a desperate soul.
So he offered her the choice. Gave her the power to save her people.
It's forever, dearie.
She had agreed. She had agreed. And in the darkness of his memories, there was a flicker of light, the first recognition of a kindred spirit. She looked into her own eyes and saw that they had been the same, once.
The shock echoed through her. Even as she clung to that moment of understanding, light blazed across her vision. The mirrors faded back into the dark. And Belle opened her eyes to see...
...her husband. Asleep.