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Heir to Darkness

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Prologue


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At first there is only darkness.

It is a living thing, wrapped tight around him, closer and more intimate than a lover. It fills his senses, oozing in and out of every pore. Within its embrace he loses all sense of time, of space and direction, of self.

No, that isn't entirely true, because he is aware enough to remember dying and to know that wherever he is now, it certainly isn't dead.

Rumplestiltskin…

It isn't a voice exactly. More like an echo inside his own head, though he isn't even sure if he has a head or a body. Whether a product of memory or of the darkness, he recognizes the not-quite-voice. The eerie half-whisper of the seer child calling out to him, setting him on the path to his doom.

Rumplestiltskin, son of a coward…

Another memory, ripe with shame. Fingers slipping from his as he scrambles to get away from the portal. Damning his boy to centuries alone because he can't go back to being powerless. The darkness presses in, squeezing where his ears ought to be, gripping his heart like a vise. And then, suddenly, the sensation of being lifted or expelled or—

Birthed.

The pitch dark begins to fade, and he hears a baby cry out. He knows that cry; it is imprinted on his subconscious, etched deep in his bones from countless days and nights spent caring for his infant son. Baelfire. His precious boy, the one who stole his heart the instant he laid eyes on him. Where is he? He can't let him cry. He can't leave him alone, not this time.

Finally, the darkness recedes, peeling off of him in a thick glob and pooling at his feet. His senses return to him in a rush that leaves him momentarily dumbstruck. His mind flails about, searching for the word to describe what he is experiencing, what he is. Other words come to him at first: wretched, broken, weak, villain, Dark One. In this moment, however, there is another, more important facet of his being, one that makes all else fade.

Alive. He is alive.

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"Rumple?"

The black liquid at his feet disappeared into the snowy ground. He lifted his head – for he did indeed have a head now – toward the sound of that angelic voice. "Belle?" he whispered, still shocked that he could speak, that he could be standing before her. Snowflakes freckled her dark hair, and the fog of her breath surrounded her in an almost ethereal manner. How lovely and perfect she appeared in the waning light. She gazed back at him, her expression equal amounts joy, disbelief, and worry. And that was when he saw who she held in her arms. Rumplestiltskin's heart plummeted.

"Bae?" He hurried over to the place where Belle had knelt alongside his son. Bae was alive, but barely. He hardly responded when Rumplestiltskin pulled him into his arms. "No, Bae."

"Poor Baelfire." Rumplestiltskin snapped his head up at the sound of that voice and saw a familiar figure entering the clearing. The Wicked Witch of the West strutted toward the center circle and smirked. "Just couldn't learn from his father's mistakes," she continued. "He wanted so badly to get back to his son. Couldn't see the forest for the trees."

Rumplestiltskin raised his right hand, realizing as he did so that he was holding his dagger in it. He pointed the blade at the witch. "You did this," he spat out. "You tricked him!"

The witch feigned innocence. "All I did was pass on some vital information – with the help of a friend – and then your son did the rest."

"You didn't tell him the price."

"Oops." The witch tilted her head and gave him a pitying smile. Rumplestiltskin could have choked her. "It's a sin of omission, love. Although I would have thought it was rather obvious. A life for a life."

Bae moaned, and Rumplestiltskin gripped him tighter. "It's gonna be all right, son."

Zelena frowned. "I do doubt that."

He could feel her magic encircling them, waiting to strike, to take his dagger the moment his guard was down. "I'm not gonna let him go," he said.

The witch turned her greedy eyes on the dagger. "You and I both know the amount of magic it would take to slow his demise. You can focus on that, or you can fight me. You have to make a choice, I'm afraid."

As the words sank in, Rumplestiltskin became hyperaware of his surroundings: he felt every gust of cold wind against his face, saw the details of the snowflakes landing on the blade of his dagger, sensed Belle's presence at his shoulder.

He felt the incredible slowness of Bae's heartbeat beneath his fingertips.

Zelena held up one green hand and examined her fingernails. "What's it going to be, Rumple? The dagger or your son? You can't hold on to both."

She was right, of course. All magic came with a price, and it was time to pay up. If he held onto the dagger, Bae would die. If he released the dagger, Zelena would control him, and he would only be able to delay Bae's death.

There was only one way he could save Bae and keep the power of the Dark One out of the witch's grasp.

"You're right," Rumplestiltskin said quietly as he pressed the dagger into Bae's hand. Positioning the tip of the blade against his heart, he looked up at Belle and flashed a sad smile. "I love you, Belle."

A few yards away, Zelena lunged forward. "No!"

Fire struck the witch, but before Rumplestiltskin could look for the source, he threw his weight upon the dagger. The blade tore through his flesh, and as it did so he felt the burden of his curse lifting, like a veil thrown off of his soul.

A pair of arms caught him, and when he lifted his head he saw Bae's face close to his. Rumplestiltskin gazed into his son's eyes, remembering the first time he'd looked into them so many centuries ago. His boy. His brave boy who had always hated and fought against dark magic. "Forgive me," he whispered. "Forgive me, Bae. It was the best I could do." He wouldn't forgive this, though. He couldn't.

Bae said nothing as he laid Rumplestiltskin's head in Belle's lap. The former Dark One tried to smile at his true love. She cradled his head and leaned down to kiss him. Her tears splashed against his cheeks.

Somewhere nearby he heard a high-pitched shriek, and then he and Belle were encircled by dark smoke. A moment later, they were in his old castle, in the library he'd given her. Bae reappeared at his side, the dagger clutched tight in his hand.

Rumplestiltskin drew in a ragged breath. These were his last moments with the two people he loved most. "I'm sorry, Belle," he murmured. "I'm sorry I have to leave you again."

Belle touched her forehead to his. "I love you, Rumplestiltskin. Forever."

He shifted his gaze to his son, whose skin had already begun to take on an inhuman palor. Bae's eyes were full of anger and confusion and – above all else – pain.

"Bae." He reached a hand out to his son. Bae stared at the outstretched fingers for a second before taking them in his.

"Why, Papa?" He sounded so old, so worn down.

Rumplestiltskin squeezed Bae's hand. He felt the last of his strength leeching out of his body. "You're my son," he answered. "Couldn't let you… pay my price."

He couldn't hold on any longer. Darkness crept around the edge of his vision. He had to get these last words out.

"Remember… any curse… can be broken." He closed his eyes and exhaled. "I love you, Bae."


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Author's Note: I started writing this about two weeks after "Quiet Minds" aired and worked on it that spring and summer before life got in the way. Watched the fourth season even though I didn't really want to, and that probably sucked away even more of my enthusiasm. Then the finale aired, and Emma became the Dark One; and it got me thinking about this little story I had started writing a year earlier. Now that trailers and news for season five are surfacing, I feel like maybe it's time to dust this thing off and actually commit to posting it. Full disclosure: I have three kids under age five, and I don't write nearly as often as I once did. I'm trying to remedy that, but I still have several writing projects vying for my attention, so there's that. I don't update frequently, but when I do, I try my hardest to make it a quality chapter. And hey, this is my first time writing in this fandom, so that's cool, right? Hope you stick around for the ride, however long it may be!