Chapter 2—"A Frightened Boy"
They were at his hovel. They were taking his son.
White-hot rage roared through Rumplestiltskin as he teleported himself to a spot near his home, there to save his son but too late. The soldiers had already arrived. He couldn't stop them. He was nothing. There were too many of them. Rumplestiltskin had always been—
"You're the Dark One, now," not-Zoso hissed in his ear. "Are you going to let them take him away? Maybe Zoso had it right, and he's only your bastard."
"No. No!" The accusation made Rumplestiltskin's voice shake with rage. "Baelfire is my son."
"Great father you are, then. Letting them take him."
No. He wouldn't. Bae deserved better than to die for the Duke's power-grabbing war. Bae was better than his father. Bae was everything, and Rumplestiltskin would not let them take him. Turning away from Zoso with fire roaring in his ears, Rumplestiltskin looked at the closest soldier. He was holding Hordor's horse, looking away. None of them had noticed Rumplestiltskin at all, had they? Hordor was busy gloating, even.
"Everyone's watching from behind their curtains today." The knight looked pleased, but his men had already pulled Baelfire out of the hovel.
"It'll be easy," Zoso whispered. "Kill that one. A flick of dark magic, and he's dead." A soft laugh sounded right in his ear. "Or you could stab him. Feel the sweetness of having blood on your hands. You already stabbed Zoso, today. Why not stab these cretins, too?"
Yes. That sounded…satisfying. Before Rumplestiltskin could even think about what he was doing, his feet carried him forward. Stabbing the first soldier was easy; Rumplestiltskin even remembered where to stab so that he fell soundlessly, crumbling to the ground like a sack of potatoes. It was so easy and he was so fast—his right leg even supported his weight without pain! The world around him seemed to be moving in slow motion, and there was so much power at his fingertips that Rumplestiltskin almost felt drunk on it.
Meanwhile, Hordor turned and noticed him. Instead of raising an alarm over his dead minion, however, the bullyboy knelt. "Dark One."
"Ooooh. That's a nice way to be greeted, isn't it? I bet you can get used to that," Zoso piped up, but Rumplestiltskin ignored him.
Hordor had made him kneel in front of his son. Hordor had made him kiss his boot. Then the bastard had topped it off by trying to take his son away! Rumplestiltskin hated Hordor like he had never hated anyone else, and he didn't think. He just strode forward, certain that he could kill this bastard as easily as the others. Hordor, however, had seemed to finally notice that he wasn't Zoso, looking up with confusion on his face.
"No. Who are you?"
"Have you forgotten me already? What was it you used to call me again?" Rumplestiltskin asked, bolder than he'd ever been before. He'd learned at a young age to keep his clever tongue in check; even before he'd been the village coward, Rumplestiltskin had learned that uppity peasants received beatings for being wittier than their betters. "Spindleshanks?" Grinning, he snapped his fingers. "Hobblefoot!"
"Papa?" The fear in Bae's voice almost made him turn away, except for Zoso standing right beside him. Rumplestiltskin wanted to go to his son, but Bae was all right, and Zoso wouldn't shut up, and the words burned. Power roared through him as his rage built.
"This one mocked you, didn't he?" Zoso loomed forward, gesturing at the soldier who knelt before Rumplestiltskin. "And just look at his face. He remembers, and he still doesn't fear you. Make him pay."
Hordor was wide-eyed, now, and staring. He was shocked. Almost speechless. "Rumplestiltskin."
"Wonderful. And now, you shall know me as the new Dark One." He pitched his voice a little lower, letting the power shape his tone. He can't hurt me now. Just thinking like that was a thrill. I don't have to be afraid. "How about a little…fealty? Kiss my boot."
"I take back what I said. You're not boring at all!" Zoso rubbed his hands together happily. "I like this. Where were you hiding the clever mind, little man?"
That nickname only goaded Rumplestiltskin's temper, as did the fact that Hordor hesitated before finally bending over to kiss his boot. It was only justice, making the cruel knight do the same thing that he'd once forced Rumplestiltskin to do—and at least Hordor's son wasn't watching him. At least Hordor had choices!
"You know you want revenge," not-Zoso whispered, and Rumplestiltskin's hand flashed out, almost on its own. He still wants to hurt my son, Rumplestiltskin knew. Quickly, strongly, his fingers fastened on Hordor's head, and a simple twist of his wrist led to a loud crack! Hordor dropped to the ground, dead as a brick.
Rumplestiltskin felt strange. He'd just killed again. How had he managed to do that when he'd only wanted to save his boy?
"Feels good, doesn't it?" Zoso grinned. "Now kill the others."
No. No, it didn't feel good. He felt sick. Felt wrong. But he was moving, despite the fact that Bae was rushing forward, his shout almost drowning out Zoso's gloating.
"No, Papa!" his beloved boy shouted, but his feet were already carrying him forward. The dagger was still warm in his hand, and the darkness roared through him comfortingly, like an old friend that he had never known he was missing.
One soldier. Two. Three and then four. The others all died easily; Rumplestiltskin was faster than they, and they were terrified. He was the Dark One, free and powerful. They could not stand against him, and stabbing each was easy. So easy. No one will ever threaten us again, Rumplestiltskin thought with relief. He shouldn't have killed them, though. Not-Zoso was laughing joyously, his head thrown back and body shaking with giant guffaws, but a strange sense of unease stole through Rumplestiltskin.
"Papa?" Bae asked tentatively, sounding frightened. "What has happened to you?"
"You're better now," Zoso whispered, suddenly by his side and sober again. "And he's safe, isn't he?"
"You're safe, Bae," Rumplestiltskin parroted without thinking. But Bae's face was still full of fear, and he didn't like that. His boy should never have to be afraid. "Do you feel safe, son?"
He moved forward, only to see his son flinch. Blood dripped off the dagger's blade, staining the grass beneath Rumplestiltskin's feet.
Baelfire had never looked so pale. "No. I'm frightened."
"Ungrateful wretch." Zoso snorted, gesturing at the dead bodies. "You do all these things to make him safe, to make it so neither of you have to be afraid, and he's still thinking like a lost little peasant boy."
"I'm not." For the first time in years, that was true, and not being afraid made Rumplestiltskin feel powerful. He'd never been able to protect anyone before. "I protected what belongs to me, and I'm not scared of anything."
Zoso bowed, a flourish and old fashioned court-style bow that included a little twirl at the end. "Beautiful."
Zoso started crooning in glee the moment Bae and Rumplestiltskin walked into their shabby little hovel. "Ooooh, look at the poor little boy. He's frightened!"
"Shut up," Rumplestiltskin grumbled before he could stop himself.
Baelfire jumped. "Papa?"
"Noth-nothing, Bae." Rumplestiltskin made a conscious effort not to glare at not-Zoso—who it was obvious that his son couldn't see—and to temper his voice into a more normal, more comforting tone. "I was, er, talking to myself."
"Are you all right?"
"Smart boy." Zoso flopped on Rumplestiltskin's narrow bed, grimacing distastefully at the worn and patched blankets. "He knows you're not the same. Speaking of being different, you really need to get yourself better accommodations. No one respects a Dark One who lives like a peasant."
But I am a peasant, Rumplestiltskin thought, looking around at the small home with new eyes. Yes, it was worn down. The roof needed patching over there to the right, but he hadn't been able to climb up there that summer with his leg aching more than usual, and Bae had been sick—again—when the weather had been nice. The table in the front was cracked, but when he'd talked to the carpenter about fixing it, the man had shoved him into the dirt and said that it would be more expensive than some coward could afford, no matter what the carpenter's wife had said about trading a repair for some fine wool shirts for the winter. Both beds were small, but they were heaped with blankets, now; Rumplestiltskin had stayed up late that spring making new ones, knowing that if they had another hard winter, the old ones wouldn't last. Yes, those blankets were a patchwork of old cloth and new, but they were sturdy and warm. Ugly, but serviceable.
Just like the rest of the hovel. The walls were thin, but the floor was clean. Rumplestiltskin prided himself on keeping a good home, even if it was a poor one, and he'd made sure that his son never went hungry, even if that meant he had to go without. Bae was a healthy boy, for someone of his class: all the peasant children got sick most seasons, mostly due to the poor nutrition available. Rumplestiltskin was smart enough to teach Bae which plants to scour the woods for when the knights weren't there to run them off for 'stealing' the Duke's vegetation, and they had always gotten by. Except…things were different now. They had to be.
He was the Dark One.
"Things will never be the same again," Zoso said, as if he could read his mind. And maybe he could. After all, the not-Zoso apparition said that he lived inside Rumplestiltskin's head.
"Papa?" Bae said again, sounding worried. "Are you all right?"
"Yes, of course." He managed a smile for his boy. "Why wouldn't I be?"
Sad brown eyes focused on him. "You killed the Dark One, didn't you?"
"Why, yes. I did." Rumplestiltskin found that the smile he'd forced felt grotesque and tried to wipe it away, but there was an odd sense of glee building up in him. I have power now! I can keep us safe, warm, and we'll never be hungry again! "We're safe now."
"Safe to have someone steal the dagger if you stay in this place. How can you stand the—?" Zoso cut off abruptly as Bae touched Rumplestiltskin's arm, and then, to Rumplestiltskin's immense relief, disappeared into thin air.
"Are we?" Baelfire asked perceptively, and Rumplestiltskin finally felt himself relax, letting out a long breath.
"Yes," he said as strongly as he could. "I'll show you, Bae. I have power to protect us, now, and I won't be like Zoso. I'll turn the power to good." Now his smile felt real, and he felt like himself. "Just you wait. Tomorrow, I'll go to the front and bring all the children home."
"Even Morraine?" Bae's face showed his excitement; Morraine was his best friend. The other children sometimes made fun of Baelfire for being a coward's son, but Morraine never had. She'd always been kind to both of them, and there were times when Rumple wondered if his son might just marry the girl someday. Sometimes, he caught Bae staring at Morraine in a decidedly romantic way, and he would be proud to call Morraine his daughter-in-law.
"Especially Morraine," he promised. She's nothing like Milah. She'll be good to my boy.
"Why not today?"
"I…I need to get a better handle on these powers, first," Rumplestiltskin said honestly. Talking with Bae was easier when Zoso wasn't there. "I—I couldn't stop myself, earlier. I don't know what came over me. I need to make sure I don't do that again."
"I don't think that power was meant for goodness," Bae said quietly. "They wouldn't call you the Dark One if it was."
"Well, then we'll just have to change that, won't we?" For the first time since killing Zoso, Rumplestiltskin felt hope stirring in his breast.
Bae's smile was brilliant. "I believe in you, Papa."
"You're the only one who ever has," he admitted in a whisper, and pulled his son close for a hug. Bae hugged him back, and Rumplestiltskin knew he could do this. He didn't have to be like Zoso. He had immense power, but he could use it to help people.
He knew he could.
A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed chapter 1! I rarely like to delve into a story that covers ground that canon already has, but there is so much opportunity here that I couldn't pass it up. So, look for the adventures of Rumplestiltskin and not-Zoso to continue its twisty and nasty way through the past.
Next up: Chapter 3—"A Brave Girl", in which Rumplestiltskin ends the Ogre War, brings the children home…and discovers the price that must be paid.
