Chapter 9—"More Than They've Got Planned"
Three days passed before Morgan realized that her son was avoiding the maid. Two weeks earlier, there'd been hints of a budding romance between the two, and now Rumplestiltskin was snappish and nasty when he did see Belle, worse than he'd been even in the beginning. Morgan was half surprised that Rumplestiltskin hadn't thrown Belle back in the dungeon, though she had no idea why he was so angry. Of course, given that she was rather displeased with the girl herself led Morgan to ignore the problem at first, but after another day of it, she realized that she was being a fool.
If Merlin is stuck in that tree, he'll never be able to free Rumplestiltskin. That only leaves one option…even if it's a dangerous option at best. Morgan knew that True Love's Kiss could break any curse, but what manner in which the Dark One's curse 'broke' had never been tested. Such a kiss could unleash the darkness to torment someone else, leaving Rumplestiltskin a powerless cripple once more, which he would hate. Yet his soul would be free…if he and Belle could share True Love. Morgan wasn't sure if that was possible, even for a Dark One as full of love as her son, but there would be no way to find out if Rumplestiltskin kept avoiding the girl.
As usual, that meant it was up to her to knock sense into her boy, and Morgan strode into his tower with a purpose, noticing the three or four shattered teacups near the door. "What in the world has angered you so, Rumplestiltskin?"
"Nothing."
He didn't even turn to look at her, keeping his eyes on whatever project he was working on like a petulant child or a distracted academic. Only he could combine those two so well. Morgan sighed.
"Two weeks ago, you were laughing and throwing snowballs at Belle. Now you refuse to talk to her. What happened?"
A long moment of silence passed. "She's a naive fool."
"She was that when you started liking her." Morgan snorted. "She has always been that. I thought you found it endearing."
That finally earned her a glare. "She pretends to care for me. She doesn't."
"I think she does," she said softly, moving forward to stand at Rumplestiltskin's side. Thankfully, he didn't pull away; he only laughed bitterly. "And she understands more than you might think."
"Of course she doesn't." A vicious snort. "As if she could even understand the half of it. She's never known desperation in her life."
The words were so close to the ones Morgan had uttered that it took her aback. She let out a slow breath, forcing herself to be honest instead of just agreeing with her son out of spite. "Nobility isn't a shield against being a desperate soul, you know."
Morgan had been born a princess, after all. Yet she knew hopelessness all too well. For all that she'd called Belle sheltered, Morgan wasn't blind to the fact that she'd sacrificed herself to save her small kingdom from the ogres. Being willing to do that indicated a serious amount of courage—not to mention a deep and desperate need to make a difference that Morgan recognized all too easily. Despite her words, she rather liked the young noblewoman; Belle was kind and smart, and she had brought a softer side out of Rumplestiltskin than Morgan had dreamed could exist. She loved her son very well for what he was, yet she had never hoped he might love someone the way she was growing to suspect he loved Belle.
Unfortunately, he well and truly had his back up, now, and was hardly in a receptive mood. His scowl alone told the tale, particularly when he only snorted in response.
"She angered you. How?" Something must have happened, but for the life of her, Morgan couldn't figure out what.
"By existing."
"Rumplestiltskin." She grated his name out, fighting the urge to shake sense into her son. Or to hug him. Trying to do so would be counterproductive, though. Physical contact with Rumplestiltskin was always a chancy proposition; he craved it, but sometimes he reacted terribly.
He ignored her.
"You can tell me now or tell me later, but either way, I will know." Morgan fixed her best glare on the back of his head, but the effort it was wasted. Rumplestiltskin barely twitched.
So she waited. By now, Morgan knew her son. She knew his neuroses, and she knew that her stubborn silence would drive him mad. He was perfectly capable of out-waiting her, yet he wouldn't—not when he didn't have a pressing reason to do so. Seconds ticked by, and then minutes, with Morgan simply watching her son, until the words finally exploded out of Rumplestiltskin in a snarl.
"She insulted you." He turned to glare at Morgan like this was her fault, and after a moment, she began to wonder if it might just be.
"I can defend my own honor, thank you." Still, she kept the words more gentle than she might have otherwise; the fact that Rumplestiltskin was offended on her behalf touched Morgan. "And I may well have deserved the insult, anyway. What did she say?"
Her even tone made Rumplestiltskin twist to glare at her. "She implied that it's your fault that I'm the Dark One." A nasty giggle. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Or wait. Perhaps not. Although it's certainly close. The girl has no brains to speak of."
"Now you're being ridiculous."
"I'm being ridiculous?" Rumplestiltskin reared back, looking shocked—but his acting was comically terrible, even if he probably didn't mean it to be. "She insulted you, and you're calling me ridiculous?"
"Of course I am." Morgan sighed. "You're acting like it. And you care for the girl, so stop pretending you don't. She made a mistake. Surely you know how easy that is to do."
His glare turned poisonous. "I don't—I don't have to put up with this, even from you! If you think—oh, nevermind."
Something broken flickered in Rumplestiltskin's reptilian eyes before he stormed out, and all Morgan could do was sigh again as she watched him go. Chasing him would do no good; he'd worked himself up over this one and wasn't going to back down any time soon. She loved him, but that didn't mean she didn't understand him, and Morgan could see what the source of his actual anger was. Rumplestiltskin was hurting, feeling betrayed. He is really starting to care for the girl, and my little spat with her has bled over to him. She really had created a mess, hadn't she?
Belle was half surprised that Rumplestiltskin hadn't thrown her back in the dungeon. Her employer certainly had avoided her like the plague ever since he'd thrown teacups at her like a barbarian, and he'd barked at her to get out any time she came near him. In her opinion, that was a ridiculous overreaction to the argument they'd had—particularly since he'd been halfway to drunk at the time! She'd tried to apologize once, but he'd threatened to turn her into a teapot and then teleported away before she could say another word, so Belle had taken to avoiding Rumplestiltskin in return. He hadn't restricted her access to the library, so she stayed there as much as she could, taking her meals in the kitchen as days ticked by.
Morgan didn't seem inclined to speak to her, either, though, and Belle was beginning to find her life incredibly lonely. At least she could understand Morgan's anger a little better; Belle was smart enough to realize that she'd made quite a mess out of their last conversation, and then she'd compounded things by her assumption that Morgan had pushed Rumplestiltskin into becoming the Dark One. She seemed so blasé about his darkness, though, Belle thought, thumbing through a book without really looking at the pages. How could any mother accept that horrible evil festering in her son?
"I didn't raise him."
The voice made her jump, and then Belle turned on the settee she'd been sitting on to stare at Morgan. The older woman stood in the doorway, looking tired rather than angry, and offered Belle a shrug when she stared in surprise.
"You didn't?"
"No." Morgan walked into the room slowly, staring blankly out the window. "I left him with his father at birth. I thought…well, I thought it was for the best. I was wrong."
Belle had to blink. "I don't understand. Why would you do that?" And why tell me? she almost added, but stopped herself just time. Any chance to get information on her mysterious Dark One was worth jumping at.
"I am half fae. I had hoped he would show magic of his own, so that he could come with me, but he did not." Morgan's grimace spoke volumes. "But it seems that magic runs in his blood, and he found his way to darkness, just as I once did. Although Rumplestiltskin does seem to take everything to its possible extreme."
"You can say that again." Belle almost chuckled, but the conversation was too serious. And she wanted to know far too much to get derailed. "So…what happened to him?"
"His worthless father turned out to be more cowardly than I expected." A mother's grimace. "I…well, most of it is not my story to tell, but Rumplestiltskin's life was not an easy one. And he grew desperate enough to take on the power you now see."
"Desperate?"
"Yes." Morgan sighed heavily. "That is not my story to tell. I left him, after all." She hesitated for a long moment as Belle watched regret and pain play over her face, and then finally whispered: "You asked if anyone had ever loved him unconditionally. The answer is that few enough people have, and he has always suffered for it."
Swallowing hard, Belle groped for words. She could not understand how any mother could abandon her child, and yet Morgan clearly regretted that choice. Part of her wanted to yell at Morgan, to demand how she could have hurt someone so fragile so terribly, but Morgan was obviously berating herself for that far more harshly than Belle ever would. Now she could understand a little, at least. The obvious love between Rumplestiltskin and his mother—not to mention his furious defense of her—indicated that Rumplestiltskin had forgiven Morgan for leaving him with his father, and that he didn't blame her. Still, this new knowledge left her with even more questions.
"Is this your castle, then?" she asked after a moment. "I saw children's clothes upstairs, clothes for a young boy. I assumed they were his."
"Oh, no. I came here only a few decades ago." Morgan's smile was faint but proud. "Rumplestiltskin took this castle off of a sorcerer who made even the Dark One look kind and gentle."
"He often is." Belle said the words without thinking, and they made Morgan's smile grow soft.
"With those he cares about, yes. You're not wrong about him; there is a terrible darkness inside him, driving him towards destruction and evil. But I have known many Dark Ones, and I have never known one to cling to love the way he does. Most of them give up on the very idea, and seek to destroy it. Rumplestiltskin is different."
She bit her lip briefly. "Is that because of your being here?"
"Certainly not. He has been this way from the beginning—a Dark One does not come back from completely abandoning light and love." Morgan turned away from the window to study her, and it took all of Belle's self-control to meet her gaze steadily and not look away.
Do you have feelings for him? The words hung unspoken between them. Belle thought she knew the answer, but it both terrified and delighted her. Rumplestiltskin was complicated and unsure, unpredictable and terrifying, but she was drawn to him in ways Belle could hardly begin to describe. There was light in him, she knew, and love. Morgan had just confirmed that.
"What about the clothes? Are they from some child he took?" She felt that had to be important. Belle hadn't seen any children around the castle, at least not often. Rumplestiltskin sometimes made deals for them, but she hadn't known him not to rehome children quickly. And they were always babies, not young boys.
"No." Morgan's eyes grew hard, but this time she didn't snap at Belle for making an assumption. "But if you want more details, you'll have to ask him."
"I don't think he wants to talk to me." Belle couldn't help the way her voice dropped; she felt bad for having blamed Morgan now that she knew the truth, but it was hard not to make assumptions when she lived with two people who were so secretive that they kept truths from one another.
Morgan snorted. "Of course he does. He's quite fond of you, you know. He's only angry, but he'll growl more than he'll bite."
"Maybe you can tell him that you and I had a misunderstanding?" Belle wasn't a coward, but she wasn't sure if bringing the same subject up again was a good idea. At best, Rumplestiltskin was likely to break more of the china—though she'd noticed that he had at least spared the cup she had chipped in the beginning.
"If I meddle more, he'll just clam up. The fool boy needs to talk to you."
Belle sighed. "I wish you wouldn't call him that."
"Oh, he deserves it." Morgan rolled her eyes. "But the moniker is entirely affectionate, I assure you."
"I'm not sure his self-esteem is high enough to take that, to be honest," Belle said after a moment's hesitation. "He's so powerful…but so fragile. Sometimes, I think words can break him when magic would just bounce away."
"That's because you know him better than you think." Morgan's smile returned, gentler this time. "Talk to him. You might be surprised how receptive he is."
Rumplestiltskin hadn't been this happy in days. In fact, he was contemplating a full on giggling fit, because this was just wonderful.
"I can't believe this!" Zelena paced back and forth across her throne room, her magic smashing through anything that seemed to offend her. "And you're doing nothing!"
"Well, what would you have me do, dearie?" he trilled, enjoying every moment of her fury. "I wouldn't want to interfere in matters of your little kingdom, after all." He gave her his most innocent smile. "You wouldn't like that at all."
Zelena glared. "You could stop your mother from teaching my useless little sister magic!"
"My mother does as she wills. Surely you wouldn't tell Morgan of Cornwall what to do." Rumplestiltskin wasn't about to tell her what to do, but he'd laugh uproariously if he got to watch Zelena try.
"She's nothing special." Blue eyes flashed, and Rumplestiltskin snorted.
"Check your ego, Your Majesty. My mother was royal long before King Leopold noticed you." He gave her a nasty smile. "And it strikes me that most legends exist for a reason. Don't encourage me to stop protecting you. She'll eat you alive if you go after her."
"I don't need your protection!"
"Shall I depart, then? Shall I stop our lessons and leave you to deal with your little stepdaughter defying you?" Rumplestiltskin cocked his head theatrically. "You're doing so well at that already."
A howl of frustration escaped Zelena, and Rumplestiltskin felt himself wiggle in delight. Most of the gleeful anticipation he felt was his own, but some of it was definitely due to his ever-unwanted internal passengers. Isn't her aggravation beautiful? Nimue crooned. He could feel her gloating in his mind, and the others with her. You'll get that curse cast yet, and perhaps you will then prove yourself worth to be one of us.
Oh, shut up. Rumplestiltskin barely managed not to roll his eyes. I've lived longer than any of you lot and learned more than you ever dreamt of. I will find my son. I don't care about the price. He was here for a purpose, to drive Zelena closer and closer to casting the curse. She was unstable, perpetually jealous and prone to fits of uncontrollable rage that drove him to insanity, but she was Cora's daughter. And even if Regina's temperament made her far better suited to cast the curse—she would at least be less mercurial—Zelena was the tool he had to work with.
"I hate you sometimes!"
"I know, dearie." Dancing forward, Rumplestiltskin leaned in close. "But you know you need me."
Zelena turned to glare at him poisonously, but he gave her his sweetest smile. "Regina's magic saved stupid Snow White from my trap. And they stole my Huntsman's heart back! How is that supposed to be fair?"
"No one ever said life's supposed to be fair, you know. The question isn't how you complain about unfairness. It's what you do about it." Rumplestiltskin kept his wiggling to a minimum; Zelena needed guidance, so guidance he would give. Even if she drove him insane.
And even if he was becoming slightly worried about whose heart she would use to cast the curse when the time came. He'd hoped she'd want to use Prince James', but the fool had gotten himself killed and replaced. Zelena certainly lusted after the new 'James', but his chance encounter with a certain princess in the forest already seemed likely to derail any such opportunities on that front. Besides, Rumplestiltskin needed the former shepherd to fall in love with Snow White, anyway, so he wasn't going to let Zelena screw that up. So, he'd have to put enough time in to keep her on the right track—and to find someone for her to fall for that wasn't him. I hate playing matchmaker. Maybe Mother can help me find someone truly vile for Zelena. The Huntsman certainly wasn't going to do. Zelena viewed him as a wretched little pet, not an actual lover.
There were times he actually hoped that his mother would find another way to get to the Land Without Magic and find Baelfire. It would certainly be easier than getting Zelena to cast the Dark Curse.
Belle hadn't been expecting a visitor so soon after her conversation with Morgan, and her head was still spinning when she headed out to the garden to pick some peaches. In the beginning, Belle had been surprised by how much life surrounded the Dark Castle, but after a while, she'd come to suspect that Rumplestiltskin actually liked the garden and the many types of fruit trees. He'd never admit it, of course, but the Dark One could easily have destroyed the beautiful garden in a temper tantrum. Except he usually breaks his own belongings, instead, she thought to herself, still mulling over what Morgan had said.
She supposed that she owed Rumplestiltskin something of an apology, but Belle still wanted to understand what had brought him to be like this. Morgan had said his life had been hard, but how could that force someone to seek darkness like this? Belle could see glimpses of a good man hidden beneath all that evil, but how could a good man want to become the Dark One? There was so much that she didn't understand.
"So, you are the girl whom the Dark One has enslaved."
The new voice made her spin around, almost dropping her basket of peaches in surprise. Then Belle found herself faced with an old man who wore long robes and had messy gray hair. His eyes were kind, however, and watching her without any malice or desire.
"I'm not his slave." Belle straightened instinctively, disliking the implication. "I came here of my own free will."
"My apologies, then." He gave her a slight bow that Belle found a little unnerving. She still nodded in return, though. "Still, I understand he has forced you to become a servant instead of the lady of your own castle. That must be quite a shock."
Belle shrugged. "I made a deal with him. Rumplestiltskin saved my people, and in return, I came with him. Forever." She found a slight smile creasing her face. "Besides, he does not treat me badly. Not at all."
There were moments when she wanted to throttle her employer, but that didn't mean Belle actually thought he was the monster he claimed to be. He was kind to her, so very kind. He'd given her the library, a beautiful room of her own, and Rumplestiltskin actually cared what she thought about things. He was the first man in her life who had ever actually listened to what she had to say. Yes, he was volatile and she hated the evil festering inside of him, but he could also be surprisingly good and amazingly gentle. When he wasn't throwing teacups at her, anyway, a thought that still made her blood boil.
He could have hit me with any of those cups, though, and he didn't. I don't think he wanted to, even if that doesn't excuse his poor behavior.
"That is a surprise." The old man looked thoughtful, and then shook his head as if to clear it. "Be it as it may, I can free you, if you wish. I have the means and the power to keep you from the Dark One, and to protect you from him."
"But I made a deal."
"I would say you have certainly served enough time in this terrible place to pay the price of the magic used to free you."
"Maybe, but that doesn't mean I'll break my word." Belle squared her shoulders. "That's not who I am." A part of her almost mentioned that Rumplestiltskin would surely avenge himself upon her people if Belle broke her deal, but she wasn't actually sure that he would. After all, the ogres were gone, and Rumplestiltskin did always keep his end of a bargain.
The old man cocked his head. "Deaths can be faked. The Dark One need never know."
"Thank you, but no. I will keep my promises, and that's final. I don't need 'saving' from my own choices." If Belle spoke more firmly than she meant to, well, that was hardly her fault. Rumplestiltskin might listen to her and care what she had to say, but this old man really didn't seem to care for her opinion. He kept pressing as if more reasons would make her forget her sense of honor and duty—or as if she wanted to leave at all!
Truth be told, Belle liked it there. Even when Rumplestiltskin drove her mad, he was fascinating. And…and he was kind. When they weren't fighting, she could talk to him for hours about books and history, about worlds he'd travelled to, or about great creatures and people he'd seen. And Belle was more free in the Dark Castle than she'd ever been at home. Here she would never be forced to marry an oaf who tortured ogre children, never forced to be a broodmare for his desired army of sons. Belle could be herself here; even at his worst, Rumplestiltskin never implied she should be someone else or change her mind about what she believed in.
"I see." He pressed his lips together, looking displeased.
Belle gave him a pert smile. "Is there something else you wanted? Did you perhaps wish to visit with Rumplestiltskin? I can make tea if so."
Of course he didn't want to see Rumplestiltskin, not if he was offering to 'save' her, so Belle made the offer with relish.
"No, thank you." Now he looked like the cat who'd been stuck catching the canary, and Belle felt a little guilty for enjoying his discomfort. He'd meant well, hadn't he?
"Have you changed your mind, then?" Morgan's voice suddenly came from behind Belle, who found herself glancing at Rumplestiltskin's mother and wondering how she knew this mysterious old man.
He shook his head. "My answer remains ever the same, My Lady. The Sorcerer's magic cannot—"
"Bollocks." Morgan glared. "You could; you simply will not. In which case, know that you are not welcome here. And your presence will only make my son think of the one thing neither of us want him to consider."
"If he attempts to take the hat, I will stop him." The old man drew himself up, but that only made Morgan snort.
"What hat?" Belle asked before she could stop herself, and the old man seemed to size her up with far less warmth than he'd spoken with before.
"That is not your concern."
"Leave the girl alone, Michael." Morgan's voice was strangely sharp. "You and I are in accord on this. That hat only heralds disaster, much though Nimue would convince my son otherwise."
Nimue? Belle recognized the name from some book or another, but she couldn't remember which. She'd have to look it up later.
"On that, at least, we can agree." The old man—Michael, Belle supposed—shook his head and gestured at Belle. "She does not belong here, My Lady. If you have any means of control over your son, you should—"
"Oh, stop it," Belle snapped, her patience at an end. "I already told you that I don't need saving, and I certainly don't need you interceding on my behalf. I am where I want to be. End of story."
Morgan snorted out a laugh as the old man's eyes grew as wide as saucers. "I do believe the young lady has spoken. You'd best leave it alone."
"She is young and impressionable. You should know better." The old man made the words sound very disapproving, but Morgan just shrugged and let Belle respond.
"I would appreciate not being talked about as if I am not here." She glared, but the old man didn't offer an apology. His dark eyes only looked at her sadly, as if she was an idiot child and a lost cause all rolled into one.
"I will be on my way, then." A swirl of red smoke filled the air, and he was gone, leaving Belle to glare at the empty place where he had stood.
She hated being treated like she didn't know what she was doing. Her father had always cosseted her and tried to keep her out of decisions that needed to be made, even though she was his only heir. All the men in the kingdom followed suit, ignoring Belle's opinions and writing her off as 'just a girl'. But now she had had it with such treatment. She hadn't realized how nice it was to be treated like an equal until she'd given herself to a so-called monster who listened to her like no other man ever had.
That said a lot, didn't it? And Rumplestiltskin was angry at her over a perceived insult to his mother, not over something she'd said about him. At least he didn't look at women as property, or as inferior beings. And Belle and Morgan had come to an understanding. Surely she could do the same with Rumplestiltskin, even if he was determined to avoid her.
Belle would find a way.
A/N: Stay tuned for Chapter 10—"Something That Wasn't There Before," in which Belle's curiosity leads her down interesting roads, Zelena plots to gain an advantage for herself, Regina meets a certain outlaw, and Rumplestiltskin and Belle finally have a heart-to-heart.
Also, this story has been nominated for the TEAs! If you're on tumblr, please vote for A Different Battle in categories of Best Courtship, Best Remix, and Best OC (Morgan). Ruins & Battles, the parent series of this story and Ruins of Camelot, has also been nominated as Best Series.
