Rumpelstiltskin woke as if he'd been doused with ice water. His eyes flew open as he gasped, sucking in the cool night air as if he was still drowning in a sea of magic. Hands, his hands, rose to touch his face gingerly.

He was alive.

For a moment he stood, merely breathing. He could smell the pine in the trees and the crisp clean scent of snow. The distant calls of an owl searching for a mate echoed through the trees. His bare feet registered the cold stone beneath him.

A few pure flakes gathered in his hair, and one particularly daring flake went for his eyes. He blinked slowly, allowing his senses to adjust, scanning the foliage that lined the edge of the clearing where he'd awoken. Snow covered the ground in an equalizing white blanket, everywhere of course except for his shadow and the stone dais beneath him, which melted the flakes as if it was alive itself. The vault of the Dark One.

There wasn't a living soul in sight, except for him.

Good.

It was hardly a noble act to bring the darkest sorcerer in all the land back to life. Unless it was one of his Storybrooke "friends," he couldn't think of any person who would bring him back without a sinister intent. But, if it were one of the Charmings or Bae, they would be here waiting for him when he woke.

That was, however, disregarding the fact that the vault was a well-kept secret, and hardly something he ever expected anyone to figure out what its purpose was or how to use it.

He opened and closed his hands experimentally, watching the muscles slither beneath the green-gray skin. Everything seemed to be in working order, no fatigue or any such notable side effects. It was as if he had never been dead.

The feather-light touch of cloth at his elbow caught his attention. The short sleeved shirt and pants he wore to the pawn shop had been replaced by a dirty cloak and leggings. So he was definitely not in the Land Without Magic anymore. A pang of something dangerously close to sentiment twinged within his breast as he recognized them; they were his poor spinner's clothes.

Over the years he'd slain dragons and worn their hides, dressed himself with high regard and fine jewelry. Now he was returned to his original visage, what he had worn until it was run through with holes and covered in patches. He appeared exactly as he had when he thrust the dark dagger through Zoso's blackened heart all those centuries ago.

The dagger… Rumpelstiltskin patted his clothes, looking around. Where was it?

He used a tendril of his magic to scan the area for the pulsing power of the blade, as well as any unseen observers. He sensed a half-buried corpse just under the surface of the snow. The man wasn't long gone, and Rumpel easily connected the dots. The man was a fool, someone whose inexperience with magic hadn't warned him about the price of life, even for the Dark One: death.

Then he felt someone else... Yes, there was another on the peripherals of his magic, someone more powerful and vindictive and brimming with energy. A witch or sorcerer then.

However, the quick spell he'd cast hadn't found the cursed dagger. The recently deceased man didn't have it, and yet Rumpel still knew it existed. It was; somewhere. His curse definitely hadn't been broken by his temporary demise; he still felt the call, but for once in his life couldn't pinpoint the direction. At least the dagger being elsewhere meant it was potentially hidden or safe, otherwise he'd already be at the beck and call of some horrendously lucky farmhand.

As much as the thought of his dagger in the wrong hands distressed him, the magical presence continued to grow stronger, closer. Perhaps it would be better to see what this sorcerer wanted.

He also couldn't deny that his curious nature was intrigued by the immense power that emanated from the user, so he crossed his hand behind his back and waited.

It didn't take long.

If he hadn't been expecting someone, the witch might have been able to catch him by surprise. As it was, he hardly noticed the almost imperceptible puff of magic behind him.

"Rumpelstiltskin," She purred. He could practically hear the smirk on her face. "Fancy meeting you here."

Well, wasn't that interesting. His former student. Annoyance ran through him at her audacious behavior. The last time he'd seen her, he'd tried to tear her heart out. Her pretense of coincidence wasn't fooling anyone, least of all Rumpelstiltskin, the master manipulator, the maker of deals. He had felt her passion and malice in the wisps of magic that preceded her.

She was already on his nerves.

"Whatever could you be doing here, Zelena?" He added a touch of glee to his voice.

"I'm just stopping by to see how my friend was faring," She said, striding into view. Her conspicuous pointed hat only added to the general eccentricity of her red hair and green skin.

"You couldn't have sent a postcard?" He giggled and turned to face her. She wasn't someone he wanted his back to.

She circled Rumpelstiltskin until she was practically standing on top of the half-buried corpse and smiled. "Not you."

The man? Rumpelstiltskin furrowed his eyebrows. He'd felt her intent.

She nudged the corpse in the snow with her boot. "Oh dear, he doesn't look too good."

Her shoulders came up in a half-hearted shrug as she stepped over the dead man. "But at least he was successful."

"Skip the nonsense and tell me why you're here, Zelena." Rumpel snapped as he stepped forward, only a hand's breadth away from her smug face. He didn't like her cockiness. He rubbed two fingers against his temple in an attempt to abate the headache that was forming; her games were tiresome.

He growled, flexing a claw as if he imagined her heart clenched within his grip "Get to the point before I start back where we left off; and this time, I won't let you get away from me."

Zelena held a hand to her lips, and playfully made a small 'o' with her mouth. "Oh, scary. Are we done with the pleasantries already?"

Greeted with silence and a stony glare, she sighed, her eyes betraying her excitement. "Why, I'm here to bring you back of course." She laughed as if her explanation should have been common sense.

Her eyes flickered to the corpse beneath them. "Well, he was, but unfortunately someone forgot to warn him about the price to be paid for opening the Dark One's vault."

"You?" Rumpel said, tilting his head. "You brought me back...? Why? I thought you wanted me dead."

"No, no, no. Not dead." She whispered darkly.

She reached into the folds of her shawl, and he felt the dry whisper of a hand across his metallic soul as she drew his dagger. Pure loathing enveloped his features. He grit his teeth to keep from making a noise of disgust at the tingling sensation that gripped his nervous system.

It was as if his heart was being held in the palm of her hand, except it wasn't. Rather than his heart, it was his magic, all what flowed through every fibre of his being. Every inch of power that filled his thickened blood now had a puppet master.

Her eyes shined with sadistic glee. "We have unfinished business, you and I."

Agonizingly slow, she turned the blade over, her emerald eyes inspecting his name, inscribed onto the cruel steel since hundreds of years before she was even born. "And lucky for you, I've just had a position open up. I'm looking for a new servant."

Suddenly, he was glad he had no clue where Bae and Belle were.

"That," he said pointedly, "Belongs to me. Return it now, and I won't kill you." As venomously as his words came out, he was sure she didn't believe him for a second. Still, he smiled like he wasn't lying.

"No." She said flatly, her twisted smile telling him exactly how delicious she thought his anger was.

He tightened his fists. "Come now, dearie. Playtime is over."

She held the dagger out, pointing its wicked blade straight at him. He couldn't control the instinctive fear that washed over his features as he took a step back, hands raised passively. Shame filled him at his body's betrayal. He was better than this.

Her voice dropped into a deadly pitch, and she kept the dagger pointed right at his heart. "I think not. I'm just warming up, Rumpel. You and I are going to make a great team."

And whether he wanted to admit it or not, she was right. With her raw abilities and his endless knowledge combined, they could do anything they wanted. Anything she wanted at least; she had his dagger, and not for the first time in his life he regretted ever helping her.

He'd noticed her obsessive tendencies when he trained her, the way she had become so incredibly jealous of Regina, the way she would absorb every small detail he shared with her in chances of pleasing him, the way prisoners died too soon after he left the room and she would be waiting to spend time helping him clean; yet, he hadn't acted.

She had been too convenient. He had been too confident. He'd thought he could squash her as easily as a snail and be done whenever he wanted, but he had ignored the signs until her power had grown out of control.

He should have killed her when he had the chance, but he had been too dazzled by the shiny new toy who had been dropped right into his lap.

He bared his teeth at her, pointing one impish finger. "I will have my dagger back. You won't live forever, dearie, and when you finally perish it will be because my hands are around your throat. It's only a matter of time."

"Oh, no." She said, rolling her eyes, "I guess that means your Belle won't live forever either then. After all, she is only human."

Rumpel froze.

"Let's just say, I've got a gut feeling that I'm going to live a lot longer than she is. Like you said, dearie. It's only a matter of time."

His vision turned red. How dare she threaten Belle?

"Don't you even say her name!" He roared. "I'll kill you!"

He reached for his dagger, fully intending to snatch it from her hands and stab her through the neck. With it, he would outmatch her.

Without it, he was no match.

"Stop right there."

A flick of her wrist, and the blade was at his throat. Power flowed from the blade -his power- filling him with adrenaline, yet rendering him useless. Against every murderous fiber of his being, his hands fell to his sides.

"Good boy," she said.

She leaned in, her lips almost brushing against his ear. Rumpel heart's felt like it was going to fly out of his chest; he could do nothing about the pure rage that rattled his insides with violent thoughts. The intensity of his magic whipped the trees in the grove with an unnatural wind. He was trapped in his own body.

"This is intoxicating." she whispered, "This power. You can't do anything can you?"

He struggled against his own magic which held him in place so tightly he could hardly breathe. The only thing he could do was clench his jaw, and he did, so much that it ached. She dragged the blade up and under his chin, studying his reaction.

"If you are going to kill me," he gritted, "just do it already."

When she laughed, her teeth glittered white against her olive green skin.

"Why would I bring you back just to kill you? No, you are much more useful to me alive."

The blade pressed against his flesh, and he found himself unable to lean away from its unforgiving steel.

"Now," she said, "We are going on a little holiday."

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but she moved the blade across his lips, silencing him.

"You are going to take me to the Dark Castle."

Despite the flare of indignation that rose within him at the thought of this power-hungry leech in his castle, his magic flowed from him, automatically responding to her wishes as it used to respond to his.

He couldn't stop it and she knew; her smug, poached ivory smile was the last thing to dissolve into smoke.

Author's Note: Hope you guys are liking this story so far, I've been super busy getting ready to graduate so it's taking me a while to write/edit these chapters. Let me know what you like or don't like. Ciao~