The cloak of shadows spread night across his vision, each soul a star. Rumplestiltskin let them show him what they would. One of the stars dimmed, its light occluded by fear.
Someone was calling his name.
Where his name was, he was. It wasn't a spell; it was a natural law, a manifestation of what he was when wrapped in his mother's cloak. Wherever a child in need called to him, he existed.
He saw her first, a girl of seven or eight years, caught in the darkness. Like a serpent, it tightened its coils around her, squeezing the light from her future.
Gretchen. The girl's name had been linked to his own in the summons, but forbidden to speak, he could only stretch out a hand towards her.
She recoiled in fear. "Who are you?" It was not the same voice that had called him.
Then he saw the others standing next to her and realized who had summoned him. Belle! And at her side, his hand in hers, Gideon. Rumplestiltskin's eyes went wide, but he still couldn't speak. What was she doing here? She was supposed to be safe in the Dark Castle with their son.
"You have to help her," Belle begged him. "The little girl, Gretchen, I can't find her. The Nyx took her soul. I know... I know you're trapped. To call you like this, when I can't even free you... I'm sorry. But this child is dying, and I didn't know what else to do. If there's any way..."
Belle. He longed to go to her, but she was insubstantial, a shadow inside a dream. Only the girl, Gretchen, was real.
Nor was Gideon real, but his words reached his father nevertheless. "Papa, you have to protect her."
The little girl peered at the two phantoms, her jaws parted in surprise. Then she looked back at Rumplestiltskin. She gulped. "Did she mean me? Am I dying?"
She was. But he couldn't tell her that. He couldn't tell her anything. He had no way to secure her trust.
"Can you help me?"
He couldn't answer. He could only wait, his hand outstretched.
"Rumple, can you see her?" Belle whispered, following the direction of his gaze, but apparently finding nothing there. Looking blindly into the darkness, she addressed it, "Gretchen. Don't be afraid. He's a friend. Just take his hand. Please."
Gretchen took one hesitant step towards him, then another. Darkness twined around her, but she stretched out a hand, breaking free for a moment. In that moment, her fingers made contact with his.
That was all it took. In a magical sense, the deal was struck, and Rumplestiltskin was able to draw the child into the shadow of his own aura. One form of darkness repelled the other, laying its own claim on the innocent soul. Ignoring the voice that cackled in gleeful pleasure at its fear, he met Belle's eyes, hoping for her understanding despite his enforced muteness.
She nodded, the flash of her smile enough to make his heart constrict.
Belle! But the alien darkness was reaching for him, for the soul he carried, and he dared not stay. He let the cloak of shadows lift him back into the ether. Dream currents carried them to Neverland. He landed on a starlit beach, the girl still clutching his hand.
Two fairies swooped in to meet them, assuming human form as they touched ground. One was Tinker Bell, the other a stranger in brown leather with her hair in two dark braids.
"Rumplestiltskin." Tinker Bell eyed him, then his small companion. "What's this? Are you putting the Shadow out of a job?"
"Rumplestiltskin?" The other fairy seemed taken aback. "You're Fiona's son?"
Fiona?
"The Black Fairy," Tinker Bell said. "Not that any of us were on such familiar terms with her as to use her name, except for Tiger Lily here. A friend of your mother's, apparently."
"Like her, I was banished. But it's been a long time since I called her friend." Tiger Lily sighed. "We... parted ways when her path led her to the dark realm and she began taking children there."
"Tiger Lily has been in the Land of Untold Stories, but she came back over with Hyde," Tinker Bell explained. "And when she heard that Neverland was restored, she came here."
Ah.
Tiger Lily narrowed her eyes at Rumplestiltskin in suspicion. "And now you're carrying on just like your mother? You have the cloak and you're taking more?"
He took a step back, unable to speak to defend himself. Gretchen clung to him. Poor girl, trapped between monsters.
Tinker Bell laid a calming hand on the other fairy's forearm. "No, I don't think so. He... he wouldn't hurt a child. If he brought her here, it was for a reason."
"What reason?"
"I don't know." Tinker Bell let go of Tiger Lily and moved to crouch in front of the girl. "Why did he bring you here?"
Gretchen looked at her warily. "Are you fairies? Like fairy godmothers?"
"That's right," said Tinker Bell.
"Well, I'm more of a fairy gardener," muttered Tiger Lily.
Tinker Bell glanced back in surprise. "Really? Blue says there haven't been any fairy gardeners in centuries!"
"How convenient for her. Reul Ghorm never met a magic tree she didn't prefer as a puppet or a wardrobe." Tiger Lily grimaced. "She exiled us long ago, knowing we would never support her plans."
"Well, she's not here now. But yes, we're fairies. I'm Tinker Bell, this is Tiger Lily, and your silent friend is Rumplestiltskin, the Dark One."
Gretchen squeaked in alarm, and Rumplestiltskin sighed inwardly, letting her pull free to scamper a few steps away from all of them.
"Don't worry. You're safe here. This is a dream. Neverland is where children come when they need to. And fairies." Tinker Bell lowered her voice to add, "But don't call him that. He'd rather be a grumpy crocodile."
Rumplestiltskin scowled, but couldn't help glancing at his hands. If anything, they were even scalier and less human than ever, tipped with black claws. The dreamscape had cast him as a monster, but there was nothing he could do about it.
"A bit glittery to be a crocodile," said Tiger Lily. "What do you look like when you're awake, I wonder?"
It was more than idle chatter. Though the two fairies were at first occupied with soothing the little girl, he was the next item on their agenda. Tinker Bell obviously guessed something of Rumplestiltskin's captivity, and meant to send Tiger Lily to the Enchanted Forest to investigate. Gretchen's presence had thrown them for a loop, but it was ultimately just another mystery to add to their list.
Gretchen paid them little attention. In the way of dreams, she soon forgot her fear and was happily meandering along the beach, collecting shells in her skirt. But Neverland could only be a temporary respite, both for the girl and Rumplestiltskin himself. Still linked to her name, he heard when it was called across the night. As gently as he could, Rumplestiltskin picked her up and let his cloak carry them back across the ether.
He would wake up back in his cell. As for Gretchen, he could only hope that Belle had been able to save the girl's body while her soul had gone wandering.
"Rumple!" Belle panicked for a moment when his ghostly image snuffed itself out, along with the girl, but then reason caught up. This was exactly why she had summoned him: he had found Gretchen and taken her away, just as Belle had hoped. She couldn't afford to waste the time Rumple had given her.
Combining her power with Gideon's, Belle sent a lash of fire into the Nyx. Light flared, driving back the suffocating darkness. She burned it out from where it had burrowed into the child's flesh, scouring thoughts and memories until every trace was gone. Then she sealed the scars with the blessing Spider had given them.
"All done, Gideon. Time to wake up," she told her son.
Distracted by the brightness of the sunlight on her face, it took Belle a while to realize that she had been tied to a chair. It was a depressingly familiar situation for her, but this time was different: she had the power to free herself whenever she wanted. It was an intoxicating feeling — no wonder Rumple was so addicted to magic. For a dazed moment, she saw it in her mind's eye. She could do much more than merely free herself.
Ungrateful peasants! Give them a taste of your power. Make them beg for your forgiveness.
Belle gasped, blinking herself fully awake enough to get a grip on herself. No. She couldn't let the situation escalate.
Already, the farmer had pressed a knife under her chin, and his wife still held Gideon in her grip. "You were calling for...for Rumplestiltskin. I've heard that name before. You're in league with the Dark One!"
Forcing herself to take careful, calming breaths, Belle kept her voice low as she answered, "I did call for him. But only to save your daughter."
"Save?" Lise scoffed, incredulous.
Belle fixed her gaze on her son. If that woman tries to hurt him... "Yes. She's safe now." Belle prayed that she was right. "Go on. Call her name. Wake her."
The farmer and his wife exchanged a skeptical glance. Lise turned back to her daughter. Keeping Gideon under one arm like a sack of flour, she reached out hesitantly with her other hand to stroke her daughter's cheek. "Gretchen? Gretchen, wake up, love."
The girl stirred under the touch. Gretchen opened her eyes and murmured in a sleepy voice, "Mama?"
Belle let out a relieved breath. She's alive. She's alive! We did it, Rumple. We saved her. And they would save the others. Wherever the Nyx hunted, she would follow, snatching its prey from the jaws of darkness. More than that, there was another story she had to tell. A story about Rumplestiltskin, the protector of children. A monster with a kind heart. A name to be called upon when all other hope was lost. A man who deserved his freedom...
For the first time in months, Belle allowed herself to believe that she might actually succeed.
The Eye of Olympus was said to be all-seeing, all-knowing. That was not entirely true, but the images that Hera called up now were clear enough.
The queen of the gods had come here alone to view the results of her husband's handiwork. Zeus didn't have the stomach to look upon his victims, but Hera knew they had a duty to know the suffering they had unleashed. She was prepared to count each death and exact the price from those who opposed Olympus. From the ones who had forced the gods to this extremity.
So she looked into the pool. And was surprised. There were far fewer deaths than she had anticipated. How...?
She looked deeper. The children were being saved...
By the Dark One and his mate?!
Hera slapped a palm into the pool, destroying the image. Hatred flared in her heart as she wished she could do the same to the two meddlers. Damn the grail! Damn its minions! If only they would submit to the divine plan, then there would be no need for any of this. It was an obsolete relic. Why couldn't it have retired gracefully? Why did it have to be so infuriatingly obstructive?
How dare it save lives the gods had condemned?
Then Hera's blood ran cold, the snarl melting from her lips as she realized what she was thinking. Fury drained away, revealing the guilt that lay underneath. With a trembling hand, she calmed the water until the image returned. She looked upon the peaceful face of a sleeping child. An innocent. The child would wake up again, no thanks to her. Hera shuddered in horror. She had blamed its saviors. What had she been thinking? How could she ever have agreed to this vile scheme?
She slumped back from the pool, covering her eyes with her hands, fighting back tears. When had she become the villain of this tale? What had happened to her? To the idealistic young goddess dreaming of overseeing a shining new order? She had once envisioned a peaceful realm bound by love and True Love. Humans, a young and vigorous race, would supersede the barbaric, loveless fey.
When Zeus had formed his alliance and overthrown Kronos, her dream had become reality. Almost reality. There was always just one more challenge, one more obstacle to overcome. A compromise here, a sacrifice there, and then everything would be perfect. Only it had come to this. Her husband sent monsters to torment the mortals, and she was complicit.
A shining new order? Hardly. Hera realized in shock that sometime in the last millennium they had become the old order. She laughed bitterly at the irony of her having once castigated the Holy Grail for being a relic of a forgotten age. Who was the relic now? Hera hadn't changed, but the grail had reshaped itself, been reborn. Its power was now wielded by mortal souls to protect the earth from the gods.
Was this the future she had fought for? A future where the gods committed atrocities, but only for the best of reasons? How far would they go to preserve their vision? Where would it end?
Only in death. Hera flinched away from the thought. She was no seer, but even she could see the writing on the wall. If they hadn't achieved perfection after a thousand years, then a thousand more would only breed new opposition. There was no end. As long as they had enemies, Zeus would never stop. And even if Hera wished otherwise, she stood alone now.
No. There had to be another way. Hera had to choose another way, or there would be no hope of saving her vision — if there was anything left to save.
Hera returned to the Olympian palace. The halls were quiet, as they had been for years. Empty. Even on feast days, she and Zeus now presided over a table seated with their lessers: minions and exalted shades, but never their equals. They had no friends among the other pantheons (for they had all been banished to the Land Without Stories) and none left of their own family. One by one, their brothers and sisters had fallen away to death or exile. Artemis had been the last.
Loneliness threatened to overwhelm her. How long until he rids himself of you, too? she couldn't help wondering. She had comforted herself with the thought that her husband valued her too much, perhaps even loved her in his distant way, despite his infidelities. She turned a blind eye to his dalliances, assuring herself that she was his only true match. She been deluding herself. When Zeus finally secured his future, he wouldn't need her anymore.
Now, now she doubted. Perhaps she and Zeus had never shared the same vision after all. The future Zeus envisioned wasn't for the betterment of the human race, but rather built to reflect his own glory. And his glorious new world would create its own shadows. Shadows that had to be fought. Shadows that welcomed all the survivors of the previous age that Hera had sought to sweep away. And now those shadows saved innocents, innocents that Hera was meant to protect, from horrors the gods had loosed upon them.
Once Zeus found out, he would not tolerate such resistance to his will. The horror would only escalate. More innocents would suffer. The wedding she had placed such hopes in was already tainted.
The Final Battle contained the seeds of its own sequel.
Author's notes: Clearly, Tiger Lily is a Sims 3 fairy what with them all having the "green thumb" trait and so on. :P She was obviously a crap fairy godmother in canon! Anyway, I put her back into play because I thought Tinker Bell could use a fairy ally on Neverland. And this is also why the fairies ran out of magic beans... Blue kicked out their gardeners, lol.