Author's notes: A Disadvantage that isn't a Disadvantage isn't worth any points. In other words, Rumplestiltskin, it's your own fault for being a power-gaming charisma-dumping (never mind the actor - in-universe the character obviously has a massive cha penalty) magic-user rules-lawyer. Naturally, everyone hates you, you'll always be overshadowed by the GMPC, the universe shits all over you, and someone else gets your dagger at least once a season.
Writing this to take my mind off 6.04. Did they have to zap Rumple and Belle with the stupidity rays again? Can they stomp on Rumbelle any more? Don't answer that. I wish they really had left Rumple and Belle (and Emma and Hook, too) out of Season 6. Then I might be enjoying the show instead of gaping in horror at the character assassination trainwreck.
They materialized in a streak of light on a ledge most of the way up a sheer cliff. A few scraggly trees had found a precarious foothold, but otherwise the mountain fell away in bare stone. Rumplestiltskin's captor led him to an opening in the cliff face behind the ledge. "Follow me."
"A hole in the ground. How original," Rumplestiltskin tried to say, but the words never reached his lips.
Be silent. The command lay across his mind, unbreakable, unfading in its power over him. Until the owner of the dagger commanded otherwise, or lost possession of the dagger, Rumplestiltskin was unable to speak.
He followed his captor into a sloping passage that turned into a spiraling staircase chiseled out of rock. As they descended, his captor shook off all remaining traces of "Belle". The imposter was now a handsome youth, taller than Rumplestiltskin, clad in layers of a brilliant white robe with long, wide sleeves. His long black hair was tied back with a bamboo brush stuck through his topknot. His every motion spoke of a refined elegance that had never done a day's manual labor.
Two obvious guards — human in appearance, but their auras betrayed their magical nature — sat at a table in an alcove opening off the staircase. They stood up and bowed their heads as the "youth" approached. "My lord."
Rumple's captor barely acknowledged their greeting. He continued deeper into the caverns, taking them through a large open chamber where two dozen more magical creatures in human form sat cross-legged in meditation. They seemed to take no notice as the two walked past down the center aisle. After another series of dimly-lit passageways, some natural, some not, but all with smooth, dry floors, they went through a doorway into a suite of incongruously luxurious chambers.
The roughly domed ceiling was still in its natural state, with stalactites hanging high over their heads. The floor, however, had been paved over with wood. The walls had been carved into regular angles, covered with wooden panels and hung over with scrolls of painting and calligraphy. Wood and paper screens partitioned the interior space, which was furnished with polished lacquer tables, stools, chairs, and desks. Expensive knickknacks, ornamental rocks, books, and other items typical of a wealthy gentleman's studio filled the place. Magical lights on tall poles provided steady and generous illumination. The air was kept fresh through a subtle circulating current.
As they entered, a man wearing a large, veiled hat stood up from one of the desks and bowed over cupped hands. "My lord. You had no trouble taking him? Not even the Mara is a match for the Calligrapher!"
Rumplestiltskin recognized the dog-faced demonic being who had met him upon his arrival in this realm, the same one who had destroyed the wand and then vanished. Dao-Ji had called him... what was it? Xu Tiande, that was the name. So Rumple's captor was Xu Tiande's master. The Calligrapher?
The Calligrapher motioned with the dagger, using it to position him in the center of the room. Those eyes, nothing like Belle's, contemplated him dispassionately. "Stay."
Rumple gritted his teeth, having no option but to obey. Obey, listen, and wait for his chance.
The Calligrapher let the blade fall to his side. He turned and nodded to Xu Tiande. "You were right. This Mara has a soft spot for children. And he trusts a woman with his life. Who would have believed it?"
"It is so written," said Xu Tiande, his voice betraying his eagerness. Rumplestiltskin could feel his need to please his master. "In the book of stories." He touched one of the volumes on his desk, a book just like the ones written by the Author. The damned things get everywhere, thought Rumplestiltskin. One of these days, he would have to find some way to erase himself from them. The thought wasn't enough to cover the terror freezing his heart. Not again! Part of him screamed at him to run, to get away, to do anything to be free again. But he couldn't. Any minute now, the commands would—
"Kneel."
Rumplestiltskin stifled a gasp and dropped to his knees. They always made you kneel. They needed to assure themselves of their dominance. Kneel, kiss my boot, kowtow — knock your forehead into the floor until you bleed. Your face in the dirt gave them the confidence that you were only a tool with no thoughts or feelings that counted in any way that mattered. It was always thus, whispered the voices in the darkness, but he didn't need them to tell him what he had known even as a mortal.
The Calligrapher stared down at him, leaning down to use the point of the dagger to flick the hair away from Rumplestiltskin's face, then tracing a line down to his jaw. "Listen, and listen well. You will not touch this dagger, nor attempt to gain possession of it."
Rumplestiltskin couldn't suppress a slight tremor at the touch. He shoved back a memory of Zelena, in the cage with him, far too close. He hadn't been able to resist her then, and he couldn't resist now, either. Every command issued through the dagger became his absolute reality. His only comfort was that his latest captor could have no personal interest in him.
"You will tell no one about this dagger," continued the Calligrapher. "If asked, deny all knowledge of it."
The important thing was that it could not be forever. Life was change. The dagger only controlled him as long as the Calligrapher maintained possession. Possession was lost if he died, if he voluntarily relinquished it to another, or if someone took it from him. Rumplestiltskin discounted the first two possibilities as unlikely, but as for the third...
The Calligrapher straightened. "You will not attack me or use magic to harm me. You will defend me if I am attacked." He moved behind the large desk at the end of the room and sat down, gracefully moving his oversized sleeves out of the way before resting his hands and the dagger on the surface. "You will tell no one of my plans, actions, or location. You will not leave these caverns unless I command otherwise."
Rumplestiltskin's mind raced, searching for possible loopholes. So he couldn't attack his captor. Someone else could. He would just need to take himself out of the equation, somehow. He couldn't speak of certain things, but he wasn't forbidden from speaking to others. He wasn't forbidden from asking questions. He might be able to manipulate the situation, even while he was being controlled. As long as he was careful, and as long as he was patient.
The Calligrapher aimed the point of the dagger over the desk at Rumplestiltskin. "Do you understand? You may speak."
"Yes. I understand," grated Rumplestiltskin. He ignored the voices shrieking in rage, in fear, and in despair. You are weak. You lost the dagger. This torment is your own doing. Your own fault, accused the darkness. It offered one escape: oblivion. If he let his thoughts sink into that void, nothing would matter anymore. Whatever was commanded of him, it would be only the Dark One obeying, not Rumplestiltskin. It would be easy... No. He needed to stay awake. To watch. To think.
"He doesn't look like much, in this form. He could almost be a peasant," the Calligrapher remarked, glancing at Xu Tiande. "What do you think?"
"As you say, my lord," said Xu Tiande.
"Show me the book. There was a picture, wasn't there?"
Xu Tiande brought his master the book, opened to an illustration of Rumplestiltskin in the dungeon in the last days before the Dark Curse. "In the Enchanted Forest, he wore a different appearance."
"Ah, yes. Much better." The Calligrapher channeled his will through the dark blade. "Resume your Enchanted Forest form. You and the Lifeless Loner will make a fine pair."
The shift was simple enough, but it brought the darkness closer to the surface than Rumplestiltskin preferred. The voices in his head grew louder, more difficult to ignore. He forced them back, thinking of Belle. He had abandoned her in the middle of the wilderness, halfway up a mountain. Where was she now? She was resourceful, he knew, but this was a strange realm. She had neither money nor any magic to rely upon. He hoped she would find her way back to civilization; a lonely death in the forest didn't bear thinking of. Until he found her again, he would never give up, no matter what this Calligrapher demanded of him, no matter what the darkness hissed in his mind.
"So what is it you want?" Rumplestiltskin asked in a low voice, still kneeling on the floor. The leather was tighter than he remembered, almost suffocating in the way it encased him.
"You are my hawks, my hounds," said the Calligrapher. "You will retrieve that which is mine by right." He stood, moved to a table marked with a grid of lines. From a shelf underneath it, he took out two squat pots. He beckoned to Rumplestiltskin.
Rumple stood stiffly and approached, as commanded. One pot was filled three-quarters of the way with flat black stones. Their auras were bright with magical energy. The other pot held only a handful of flat white stones, equally abuzz with magic. The Calligrapher set the pots on the table. He plucked out a black stone and handed it to Rumple.
"The soulstone of...I believe that one is a three hundred year old bat," said the Calligrapher. "Summon him."
Rumplestiltskin's fingers closed over the stone. Concentrating, he sensed the name hidden inside it. The magic was new to him, but it felt similar to the talismans used by the witches of Oz. The soul it was linked to was... locked in a half-world limbo. It wasn't difficult to modify a standard transport spell to fetch the soul, and with it the flesh.
For an instant a tiny brown bat fluttered in the air before him. Then it expanded, morphing into the shape of a wild-haired young man dressed in rags and brandishing a bamboo staff. Before he could attack, Xu Tiande darted forward and stabbed his fingers into the man's torso, here, then there. Some kind of paralysis spell, thought Rumplestiltskin, and indeed, the man-who-had-been-a-bat seemed frozen, only his eyes able to move, following Xu Tiande with an impotent glare.
"Little Storm Cloud," said the Calligrapher. "I hope three months of contemplation have taught you wisdom. Will you accept my offer, now?"
"Three months or three centuries, you can shove your offer up your—"
The words were cut off by a vicious slap across the face. "Insolent rat!"
"Xu Tiande," murmured the Calligrapher, calling off his dog. Then he turned to Rumplestiltskin. "You see what I have to work with? Humans and beasts alike are ensnared by the lowest of realities. Gifted with miracles, they only chain themselves more tightly to the wheel of suffering."
"That's our business," spat the transformed bat. "You have no right to take it from us."
"I have every right! I am the Minister of Magic, duly appointed—"
"Duly exiled! Our petition was granted, our suit heard in the highest court."
"Petty legalities," snarled the Calligrapher. "A mistake. And when my point is proven beyond dispute, you will regret choosing the wrong side." He waved a hand at the transformed bat, returning him to his prison, while the soulstone in Rumplestiltskin's hand vanished, only to drop with a click back into the pot of black stones.
Rumplestiltskin rubbed his palm gingerly. The Calligrapher's power was formiddable. Why go to all this trouble to ensure the Dark One's obedience? "So are you commanding my services as a lawyer? I must warn you, dearie, my lack of familiarity with the laws of this realm may limit my usefulness..."
"Laws of this realm? No, my appeal is to the only court that matters: history," stated the Calligrapher. "Magic, which was meant to liberate the world, was created to be one of the noble arts, just like gaming..." He indicated the gridded table and the stones.
"Music." He moved on to another table, this one holding an antique zither. It had once had five strings, but only one remained.
"Painting." He indicated the scrolls on the walls. Rumple followed his gaze, frowning as some of the paintings seemed to stare back at him. They depicted fierce, inhuman soldiers armed with glowing, flaming weapons. Rumple sensed some enchantment there, but didn't dare to betray too much interest while he was in a position of weakness.
"And calligraphy." He plucked the bamboo brush from his hair and wet the tip in his mouth. "An art with the potential to awaken the soul. But what do they do with magic? Treat it as a mere tool. A machine. A means to power."
"Indeed," said Rumplestiltskin, forcing himself to humor his captor. If he could make him forget that Rumple's compliance was compulsory, freedom might eventually come within reach. "And you intend to gather it up, and, what, create... art?" He gestured theatrically, the old mannerisms returning to him, matching the impish appearance.
"Enlightenment!" the Calligrapher declared arrogantly. Then his eyes flashed at Rumplestiltskin. "But such things are beyond your comprehension, Mara."
"Oh?"
"Mired in base passions and the entanglements that come with it, you can only drive the wheel, never transcend it," said the Calligrapher, lifting the dark dagger in his left hand. "But that is why I summoned you. There is no one and nowhere in the world that can completely banish the Mara."
"I have a name, dearie. Can't you read that dagger you keep waving around?"
"You had a name. Now you are my agent." The Calligrapher lifted the brush in his right hand and scribbled words in the air. They blazed with gold light, backwards and illegible to Rumplestiltskin, who could barely read this language at the best of times. Then a gesture sent the words flying straight into Rumple's field of vision, larger and larger until they were gone. He felt the spell mark his soul. "With all the authority of the Minister of Magic."
"And what am I supposed to do with this 'authority'?" Rumplestiltskin probed magically at the spell. It tasted of light magic, constrained by its own rules, mixed with a touch of the divine. Was he dealing with a god again? But the magic was tainted. It was strong, but didn't reach the full force of a true deity. He is mortal enough to die, whispered the voices from the darkness. Kill him... heaven will not protect him.
"Bring to heel these rebels who dare defy me."
The spell unfolded in Rumple's mind into a list. A list of names and locations, along with an impression of the person behind each name.
"Collect their hearts if they are human, their soulstones if they are not."
There were far more humans on the list than demons. Rumple glanced at the pots of stones again. The white stones must be transformed from human hearts just as the black stones were the vital talismans of the demons.
"Go. Take Xu Tiande with you. Protect him. He will render you such assistance as you may require for now."
Given no choice in the matter, Rumplestiltskin waved a hand and transported both of them to the first name and location on the list. It was in what passed for alphabetical order for the language, meaning the names were sorted by the base elements and stroke number of the written words. "A moth demon called 'A Piece of Snow'. Most people would just say 'Snowflake."
Xu Tiande grunted in reply.
"So why are there so many humans on the list?" Rumple looked around at the desolate scrubland surrounding them, a distant contrast to the lush forests of the mountains where he had arrived in this realm. In the middle of the desolation stood a pillar of rock. Its smooth surface glinted in the light of the setting sun.
"They, like this moth, live in places consecrated by heaven," said Xu Tiande. He scowled at the pillar from under the wide brim of his hat. "My master is unable to set foot inside, ever since the Jade Bastard exiled him. Nor can those demons that serve him."
"And you? Can you?" At Xu Tiande's sullen nod, Rumple pressed harder. "So why haven't you caught this little moth yourself?"
Xu Tiande mumbled, "Not so little..."
"Ah, you can't! That's why you need... me?" Rumple twirled his hands and laughed. "Well, I know why I'm working for the Calligrapher. The question is, why are you? You're not even an animal demon, are you? You're human... you were human, once."
"It's none of your business," snapped Xu Tiande. "Cut the bullshit. You have a job to do."
"Yes." He cast his senses into the pillar. It was ancient, unearthly, a remnant of an outpost of heaven, now abandoned to the mortal realm. Words of a divine poem were carved into the stone. In time, the poem would be erased by wind and water, and the holy aura would fade. Meanwhile, it leant its power to those souls born inside, allowing a simple moth to attain immortality.
And there she was. He found her, a speck of white clinging to the side of the pillar. The next instant, he had transported himself there, close enough to reach out magically and seize her. She reacted with a spike of power that nearly stunned him, but Rumplestiltskin had already grounded himself in darkness. She transformed into human form, but was unable to break free. Her energies drained uselessly into the void. Soon she was weak enough for him to draw the soulstone from her body. It flew out from her mouth straight into Rumplestiltskin's fist. The woman swayed and collapsed, turning back into a moth as she fell.
Rumplestiltskin glanced at Xu Tiande, who had only just caught up with him. "It looks like I won't be needing your assistance, after all."
Xu Tiande ignored him, moving forward to catch the moth, now feebly fluttering on the ground. He dropped it into a small bamboo basket, shutting the lid and sealing it with spells written out on strips of yellow paper.
Rumplestiltskin tried to teleport himself away, alone, hoping that completing his task once would satisfy the Calligrapher's command to "take Xu Tiande with you", but the words still held. On the other hand, the Calligrapher had not specified a method or a time frame for his orders to be carried out. He decided to walk to the next target on his list. If nothing else, it would give him time to think. The moth demon had proved too weak and isolated to be any use to him, but the next target was a human priest of some kind, who lived in a temple. If he made enough noise, maybe the humans would organize themselves in opposition to the Calligrapher. Of course, they would only see Rumplestiltskin, but if he left a wide enough trail...
"Hey. What the hell are you playing at? This is no time to admire the sunset." Xu Tiande glared from under his hat at Rumplestiltskin.
"Following my orders." Rumple waved a hand. "The next target on the list lives that way."
"Walk, walk, walk. Walk halfway to forever, at this rate. No, take us there faster," demanded Xu Tiande.
"Your master didn't say anything about obeying your orders," Rumple pointed out.
"We can fix that," threatened Xu Tiande. He lifted a hand, but before he could teleport away, Rumple interrupted.
"Wait. That won't be necessary." He didn't want to give the Calligrapher any reason to doubt his compliance. "Let's go."
The human priest proved no more a match for the Dark One than the moth demon. His disciples were even more useless, easily taken out by a sleep spell. Rumplestiltskin pretended to expend a great effort, gasping in a show of exhaustion as he finally extracted his victim's heart.
Xu Tiande slapped one of his spell strips on the man's back. The paper faded from view as the magic took effect.
"What's that for?" asked Rumple. "You're not collecting the body?"
"Of course not. My master wouldn't defile a human being that way."
"But it's all right to do it to an animal spirit?" Rumple transported the two of them back outside to a safe distance, then sat heavily on a rock.
"Don't be fooled by appearances. They're just beasts with ideas above their station." Xu Tiande flipped up his veil and peered more closely at Rumplestiltskin. "You all right? Are you injured?"
"I'm fine, dearie," said Rumple. "I just need to rest before we go after anyone else. So what was the spell you put on him?"
"It keeps him quiet. We can't let some heartless monstrosity wander around unchecked," said Xu Tiande.
"Indeed not." Rumplestiltskin had never had much success arguing morality with anyone, so he didn't try it now. "The Calligrapher is overflowing with benevolence. Anyone can see that."
"Exactly. Once he's cleansed their hearts of magic, he will restore them. It's all for their own benefit."
Rumplestiltskin winced. He remembered what that kind of cleansing felt like. "Well, then. Now that that's clear, go away and leave me in peace."
"But our mission..."
"Yes, yes, I'll whistle for you when I'm ready." He shooed Xu Tiande away. A few hours. Nothing too long that would arouse any suspicions. He took advantage of the time to pore over the list he had been given, making a mental map of the locations. He hadn't been commanded to collect the targets in order, which meant he could make his own order. He could create a pattern. Something obvious. Something near the mountain where he had left Belle.
He put his plan into motion the next morning. He persuaded Xu Tiande that it made sense to space out their attacks, one per day, so as not to wear them out. "A moment of carelessness could ruin everything, and we wouldn't want that, would we?"
Xu Tiande could hardly disagree with that sentiment. One target per day it was.
The fourth and fifth targets put up a respectable amount of resistance, especially as they were able to combine their power to fight the Dark One together, being two monks at the same monastery. Xu Tiande jumped into the fray, swinging the balance back to Rumplestiltskin's favor, and it was over soon after that.
The sixth target had time to call in an ally and set a trap.
Finally, thought Rumplestiltskin. He triggered the trap — a crude affair with enchanted nets — and leaped clear, shielding himself a split second before a blast of light energy hit him. A familiar configuration. He found the memory an instant before the raggle-taggle monk materialized between him and the Daoist magician-swordsman who was his sixth target. "You!"
"Who else?" Dao-Ji shot a fireball at him, which Rumple deflected and returned with interest. "Running around ripping the hearts out of good people... I had hoped for better from you!"
"Life is full of disappointments."
"Does your wife know what you're doing?"
"I'm not doing this by choice. She knows me better than anyone. She'll understand. And if I'm very lucky, she'll even forgive me." Sensing danger, Rumplestiltskin dodged aside as a sword pierced the space where he had been.
The Daoist magician, who had left Xu Tiande a crumpled, bleeding heap in the corner, drove Rumplestiltskin back with a series of vicious attacks with which he had no desire to engage. "Monster! I strike for justice, in the name of heaven!"
Idiots everywhere, thought Rumplestiltskin, remembering Gaston. Aloud, he said, "You can't kill me, dearie. You don't know how."
Dao-Ji closed in on the other side. "Everyone has weaknesses."
Rumplestiltskin met the monk's eyes. "I'm not about to tell you mine."
He didn't dare say more in front of Xu Tiande, whom he had been ordered to protect. Compulsion tugged at him, forcing him to end this as quickly as he could. Without his dagger, his power was lessened, but he still had enough to knock Dao-Ji tumbling away. In the space of that distraction, Rumplestiltskin slid inside the magician's reach, blocking the sword with his left hand while his right plunged into his chest, shattering a layer of protective magic to yank out the man's heart.
The magician froze, horror overtaking his features as Rumple exerted his will over the heart.
"Stop. Unless you want me to squeeze..." Rumplestiltskin's fingers tightened around the heart, applying enough pressure for the magician to gasp in pain. Crush it, urged the darkness.
"Don't." Dao-Ji watched him warily, but didn't approach.
Rumplestiltskin maneuvered himself around the room to the corner where Xu Tiande lay, breathing raggedly, his eyes closed. A moment later, he had transported both of them outside. He followed up with two more jumps, afraid that they might be pursued. Protect him. Rumple didn't know enough of this realm to have much in the way of secret boltholes, but he had found an abandoned cottage in the mountains, one that had belonged to one of the animal demons imprisoned by the Calligrapher. He took Xu Tiande there now and dumped him on the bed.
The wounds were serious, enough to have killed him had he still been mortal. Rumple patched him up magically as best he could.
Xu Tiande groaned and opened his eyes. "What happened?"
"What do you think? Our activities have been noticed. That magician objected to having his heart taken. Rather... violently!"
"But you succeeded?"
"Of course." Rumplestiltskin waved a hand, the heart in question materializing in a puff of smoke, then disappearing again when he reversed the spell. "But we'll need to be more careful from now on."
He convinced Xu Tiande to take a few days to rest before they moved in on their next target. Not Rumple's original seventh target, but one farther down his list: a Daoist nun, a hermit, alone except for a young acolyte. An easy extraction, in and out without a fuss. The acolyte never even saw them.
Dao-Ji hadn't shown up, but Rumple hadn't expected him. With any luck, he would be looking for Belle. He hoped he had not misjudged the monk, that he was not someone like Gaston. That he would not hurt Belle. That she was alive and well. That for once, fate would be kind to them.
Another Note: Clearly my mind has been wandering, and this has become my write-up of the fantasy RPG campaign I'm NOT playing this year, having switched out RPGs for fanfiction in my "hobbies" field, but sometimes I'm nostalgic.
So here I've split up the party (d'oh! Doubles my workload. But on the bright side I'm down to just two imaginary players) since we've been trying to convince Belle's player that "Bookworm" was meant to be an /NPC/ class, and she's like, no, it's perfectly viable as a player class, and here, I'll prove it: run a solo adventure for me! At least she's accepted that no, you can't use your maxed-out hoard of drama points to force your boyfriend to swap out his Dark One levels for Heroic Royalty levels. Meanwhile, I'm railroading Rumple's plot because I'm lazy and he's bored ("lemme throw some fireballs at someone already!"). Then it turns out I underestimated his mad character optimization skillz, so all my carefully balanced encounters were a cakewalk...