He thought at first she was taking him to her rooms, but they went past her door, and she dragged him all the way up the staircase of her tower, to a door that looked very thick. She waved her hand, and it swung open inwards. She swept him into the room, and pulled a chair away from the wall, dragging it to the center of the room and pushing him down into it forcefully. The door swung shut on it's own as she stood over him. He looked up, meeting her gaze, and finding that she was concerned, not angry.
"Rumpelstiltskin, did you ever spend any time around wielders of Dark Magic?" she asked.
"No," he replied, confused.
"Has anyone ever died in front of you? Anyone who might have been bad, or someone you didn't know?" she asked.
"No one bad, or who I didn't know," he replied steadily.
She stared at him for a long time, seeming to determine that he was telling her the truth. She bent over so that she was eye level with him.
"Have you ever spent time in a place wrapped up so tightly in magic that there was absolutely no chance anything could get out without assistance?" she asked softly, almost seeming afraid of the answer.
He nodded wordlessly, remembering the cell. Mirren drew away from him, walking briskly over to a cabinet. Rumpelstiltskin looked around the room for the first time. There was a long table in the middle of the room with nothing on it. Shelves and cabinets lined the walls, and there were all sorts of things on them. Rumpelstiltskin realised he was in Mirren's workroom, the place where Sorcereress' kept their supplies. He'd never actually seen the inside of one before, and it was fascinating. There was a jar on one shelf that looked like it contained rat tails, though he couldn't be sure. He looked away from the jar to Mirren, who was hurrying back to him, holding a little green pouch. She undid the drawstrings, and dumped a small quantity of fine white powder into the palm of her hand. She took a breath, and blew it at Rumpelstiltskin. Rumpelstiltskin closed his eyes, not quite sure what this was supposed to do. He breathed some of it in, and coughed a bit, before looking at Mirren questioningly. Not doubting the potency of her powder, she didn't hesitate.
"What is your name?" she asked.
Rumpelstiltskin knitted his brow in confusion. "Rumpelstiltskin," he replied.
"What are you?" she asked. He was puzzled by this question, but instead of giving her one of the many answers that immediately popped into his head, he got very dizzy.

Mirren watched as Rumpelstiltskin's head slumped over, and a shudder ripped through him. She looked down at his hand, and saw it changing color, and hurled a quick spell at him. Ropes sprang up, tying him to the chair, though Mirren wasn't sure quite what good they would do against whatever had taken root here. She ran over to her cabinet, and grabbed a jar of thick, gooey liquid, which she quickly dumped over his head. He convulsed, gripping the armrests, but the ropes stayed in place, and the thing didn't open it's eyes. It shuddered again, and then giggled.
Mirren moved so that she was in front of the thing, standing over it. "I'll ask again," she said, softly, but forcefully. "What are you?"
It's head snapped up, and it looked at her, grinning. "Ek Nrais Kyaneit," it replied.
Mirren stared down at it. She'd been expecting something bad, something powerful and evil, but nothing like this.
"The Dark One," she whispered, and the thing giggled loudly. "Excellent. There aren't many left these days who still understand the Old Tongue," he said delightedly.
"You died years ago," Mirren said.
"I did, didn't I? Let me give you a good piece of advice girl," he said. He leaned towards her. "Never die. It's a highly unpleasant experience."
"You didn't go all the way, did you?" Mirren asked, though she already knew what his answer would be.
"Of course not. So many spells to keep in... not even death could let me out. They took my body away, but my soul was left in that cell, with no way out." He grinnned. "That is, until they threw poor little Rumpelstiltskin in with me. It was almost comically easy to take him. So much anger... delicious," The Dark One hissed. "Such a longing for revenge."
"If you were there the whole time, why wait?" Mirren asked, curious. "Why not just take over his body completely?"
"He wasn't... ripe, shall we say? He wanted the Black Queen dead, but he only hated her. He wasn't angry enough." It paused. "And I will give him credit for being strong. But I always win. You are all so weak. It was always just a matter of time before he cracked enough to release me." He laughed, a very unpleasant sound. "And then you were kind enough to cast a Truth on him. You know he couldn't answer that question? He has no idea what he is." Mirren was not fooled in the least. "If you've taken over, why are you still in that chair?" she asked. His smile faltered. Mirren went on.
"The ropes, and the Weaken spell, neither of them are strong enough to hold you. So why am I still alive?" she challenged.
His lips curled up in a snarl, but he didn't reply. Mirren, satisfid, walked over and placed her hands on either side of his head briefly. He slumped over again, and the gold coloring started to fade from his skin. His breathing steadied, and Mirred sat down cross-legged on the floor, watching as Rumpelstiltskin woke slowly.

Rumpelstiltskin woke, and immediately felt the gooey substance, the Weaken Mirren had poured over him, still working. He lifted his hed briefly, before letting it fall back, groaning. Behind him, Mirren was trying to manually untie the ropes. The Weaken was rendering all the spells she'd directed at it impotent. She heard him groan, and moved to face him, slapping him lightly to keep him awake.
He lifted his head, and saw Mirren.
"What-"
"It's fine, that's Weaken. It'll wear off in a minute," Mirren said. She let his head fall back, and went to a cabinet, pulling a knife out, and cutting the ropes. She leaned against the table, waiting as the Weaken wore off. Rumpelstiltskin sat up slowly, clutching his head.
"Gods, what happened?" he asked, turning to look at Mirren, who had the oddest look on her face.
"I'll tell you in the morning," she said after a minute. She turned, opening a chest and fishing around in it for a minute, before emerging with two metal half-circles. "Hold out your hand," she said.
"What is that?" he asked. He held his hand out, and she touched one end of each together. It merged, so they were connected, and she closed it around his wrist, so there was a thin band of silvery metal closed around his wrist, hugging his skin.
"It'll keep away unwanted visitors," she said shortly. She steered him out of the room, and locked the door, before heading off to her rooms, leaving him on his own.