The dagger dissolved into air with his passing.
The wand in her hand was all that was left of the other Rumplestiltskin. Exhausted by the ordeal, Belle dropped to the ground a little ways back from the cliff, lying on her back with foreign stars twinkling down upon her. The night was only night, no longer burdened with a layer of dark magic.
All that had gone with the dagger, melted away like a pool of water absorbed by the soil. Laid to rest, just as the prophecy had stated. Which meant Rumplestiltskin had been the Guardian all along, keeping the world safe from the darkness. But the prophecy hadn't said it would rest forever. With Rumplestiltskin's final death, the darkness was free again. The power couldn't be destroyed, but it could be changed. Belle hoped that the next soul to take on that burden would suffer less from it, now that the darkness had been tempered by true love.
Meanwhile, the Rumplestiltskin in her reality still lived with that darkness sharing his soul. He had made a deal for her hand in marriage. She was almost sure he had been guided by foreknowledge. What was he hoping for? That she would love him just as the other Belle had loved her Dark One?
Was it what she wanted? She remembered the warnings of the other Rumplestiltskin. He had told her to really think about it, and he was right. She did tend to act on impulse, and he knew her well enough to know that, which was... strange. Strange to cross realities and meet each other out of step like this.
Her Rumplestiltskin had invoked the three trials. Why? Was it an attempt to change his fate? Because he knew what had happened to his other self and wanted to take a better path? Ghostly memories lingered in the back of her mind, and Belle thought that in his place, she might have done the same thing. What was the point of having knowledge if you didn't learn from it? Surely he must have known how much he was revealing to her when he sent his other self to test her.
Three trials, three chances to choose and choose again.
And now that she had met Rumplestiltskin, or at least an echo or reflection of him, she thought that she could choose him. Knowing a little of him, she wanted to know more. She wanted him to look at her the way the other Rumplestiltskin looked at the other Belle. She had seen something of his lonelines, felt it in her own heart, and longed to ease that loneliness for both their sakes.
Sometime during that long night, the sheer strangeness of his appearance had become familiar to her. She wanted to see him again. The thought of leaving — of going back to Avonlea and never hearing his voice again — felt unbearable. The idea of marrying anyone else struck her as laughable. Certainly none of the noble class of Avonlea, and not even any of the people she had met in her years of travel, held any romantic appeal to her.
Did Rumplestiltskin? If she was honest with herself, the answer was... maybe. Even... probably. Yes. But the Dark One? The darkness was part of what he was, and Belle couldn't let herself forget that. Darkness could be cruel, could be selfish. Could she live with that?
She had to go back. That was her answer. As to how, the other Rumplestiltskin had used the wand to cross between realities. She could do the same. She just needed to take a nap first, recover her strength. No one should attempt transdimensional travel unless fully alert! When she woke from her nap, it was still night, but she thought maybe the stars had shifted (or the world had turned). Perhaps it would be day the next time she came here, if she ever did.
"Right. Focus, Belle, focus," she told herself. The wand felt fragile in her hands, as if Rumplestiltskin's death had hollowed out its core. Testing its power, she thought there was enough left for one more trip. "I'd better get it right, then."
"She did what?" Rumplestiltskin stared at Cogsworth in astonishment.
"We think she killed the other Rumplestiltskin," the Timer repeated. "Lumiere didn't get many details out of her. She said it was 'personal.' But the fact of the matter is that she returned to camp alone, using your counterpart's wand. Which disintegrated shortly after arrival, by the way."
Rumplestiltskin was speechless.
"Yes, well, they asked what had happened, naturally. That was when she said that the other Rumplestiltskin was dead." Cogsworth shifted his weight from one foot to the other, fussing uselessly with a scroll, obviously no more comfortable giving the report than Rumplestiltskin was to hear it.
"If that bastard tried to kill her—"
Cogsworth shook his head. "No, I doubt it. She would have expressed greater hostility. Lumiere said she sounded melancholy. Not afraid. Not angry, as one might expect."
Rumplestiltskin scowled. He hated not knowing. Hated the panicky feeling ignorance induced, the sense of everything spiraling out of control just out of his sight. "But it's done. That was her third trial, which she dealt with in her own inimitable way, we can infer that much. And she's still coming here?"
Cogsworth nodded. "Which means it will be your turn soon."
Her mother was worried about her, brow furrowed more deeply the closer they approached the Dark Castle. She was worried enough to speak to Belle in private.
"I saw the look on your face when you came back," Colette said. "Please, if you need to talk..."
Belle shook her head.
"If he hurt you, if we need to help you..."
Belle sighed. "It's not like that."
"Then what is it?" Colette pleaded. "Whatever it is, surely better to let it out than to drown in a flood of unspoken words."
Belle hesitated, torn. What had happened between herself and the other Rumplestiltskin was between them only. What he had shown her wasn't for her to share, even with her own mother. She admitted at last, "I was afraid, at first."
"And later?" Her mother held her gaze anxiously.
"We spoke." Belle smiled briefly. "All very right and proper for two people pledged to be married. Though he wasn't exactly who I'm promised to, and I'm not the Belle from his reality. Even so, I like to think I came to understand Rumplestiltskin better."
Colette shot her an alarmed look.
"What? I thought you'd approve."
"Belle, you must take care." Colette reached out to grasp both of Belle's hands. "A marriage is one thing, but to give him your heart is far more dangerous than a mere contract."
"I know that." Belle had seen enough to know it wouldn't be easy, but wouldn't it be worth it? Happiness was possible for them, and it would be a kind of betrayal to give up on it. "He's not the demon people think he is."
But Colette still looked troubled. "Say what you will, there is darkness in him. I fear for your soul, should he draw you into that darkness."
Belle looked away. She said softly, "The darkness... I think the darkness isn't what people think it is, either."
"You think? Or you hope?" Colette let go of her hands and straightened, her eyes going distant. "You know, I met Regina once..."
"Regina?" Belle was caught off guard by the shift in topic. "You mean..."
"Queen Dowager Regina of the White Kingdom, though she was not queen then," said Colette, sounding a little sad. "It was two years after the ogres. You won't remember, but your father and I were away that summer for a month, sent by the king to re-establish Avonlea's relationship with Lishanya."
Belle nodded. "So she would have been, what, seventeen, eighteen?"
"Fifteen. A sweet, kind girl with an open heart." Colette smiled. "I met her at the king's court in Lishanya. Her father was the fifth prince. I remember she had a passion for horses."
Belle tried to reconcile this image of Regina with the Evil Queen who had kidnapped her.
Colette sighed. "And then, of course, she became the student of the Dark One. She had her reasons, no doubt. I remember her mother, too. The coldest woman I've ever met, and a sorceress according to rumor."
"But she's gone now?" As far as Belle knew, the Evil Queen had ruled alone.
"There are rumors. In any case, Regina became, under the Dark One's tutelage, a woman known as the Evil Queen. Someone capable of ripping out your heart on a whim and crushing it. Someone who—" Colette broke off abruptly and glanced away.
"Who did what?" Realization dawned. "You know. Know what she did to me..."
"We heard rumors," Colette admitted in a pained voice. "But I understand that you feel you can't trust your family anymore, not after what happened with Gaston."
"It's not like that," Belle rushed to explain. "I just didn't want you to worry!"
Colette grimaced. "But I can't help but worry. You're my daughter. I worried then, and I worry now..."
Belle forced a laugh. "I have no plans to turn into an evil queen, Mother."
"I doubt the innocent girl I met in Lishanya planned any such thing, either." Colette gave her another troubled look.
Belle swallowed, wondering if her mother had a point. Had Rumplestiltskin even known what he was in for when he became the Dark One?
Colette nodded as if Belle had answered aloud. "Precisely."
"I used one of the Evil Queen's spells," Belle confessed impulsively. "In the duel with the ogre. It was dark magic. I know I said I wouldn't, but..."
"Oh, darling." Colette reached out to hug her. "You were afraid, weren't you? Anyone would be."
Tears pooled in Belle's eyes and she sniffled once. "It turns out I'm not much of a hero, after all."
Colette rubbed Belle's back. "None of us were, when Avonlea faced the ogres. We called the Dark One, remember."
"But this is different. Lew wasn't going to kill me." Belle knew she had let her mother down, but she couldn't hide her shame any longer. "I just wanted to win."
"It's not wrong to feel fear, or want to win," Colette said. "It's only wrong if you harm people unjustly because of your fear or ambition. You didn't kill the ogre."
"The Dark One's killed people," whispered Belle. Had threatened her, even if he hadn't been able to follow through with it. The darkness in him was more than ordinary human darkness, and yet... it didn't negate love, did it?
"So you understand why, as your mother, I cannot help but worry."
Belle nodded. "I do, but I still... I have to try, with Rumplestiltskin."
"I know you have to be true to yourself. But please, Belle, please be careful."
After that, Colette kept her worries silent, and Belle presented an optimistic face to everyone else.
The Dark Castle was finally in view, and to Belle's eye, more gray than actually dark. It dominated the top of the mountain pass from the foot of one of the peaks, but by the forest encroaching the walls, it had not seen battle for a long time. The road snaked across the one clear space in front of the castle, ending at the main gates. With no guards stationed at the gatehouse, the ogres stepped forward to do the heavy lifting, easy enough given their inhuman strength. Belle could imagine what a nightmare it must have been to face them in a siege. The Schlaraffenland army, if it really did include ogres, must be a terrifying foe in any war.
The towers were unmanned as well, but Belle felt the tingle of defensive wards as they passed under the walls. On the other side, the courtyard was planted with a formal garden, all straight lines and angles and neatly sculpted hedges.
"He must employ gardeners at least," Belle said to Lumiere. "Or is it all done by magic?"
"Magical gardeners," was Lumiere's reply.
"That... seems extravagent." Belle wondered why he would do that. She turned to her friends for an explanation.
"Oh, aye, folk trade their souls to the Dark One when they have naught else to sell," Ragwort told her. "Mind you, not even the Dark One would dare hold them from the underworld forever, but that's still plenty of years of service. So he practices his soul craft on them, binding them into wood or metal or other such. So if you see a floating pair of hedge-trimmers, say, there you have it."
"Necromancy!" Jean pronounced gleefully.
The clerics glared at them murderously, muttering threats of damnation, but obvously knew when they were outnumbered.
The stablehands that came out to meet them in the courtyard turned out to be animated mannequins, clothes stuffed with straw supported on a jointed wooden skeleton. The Avonlean visitors were taken aback, but Lumiere was unfazed, poking and sniffing at one of the mannequins.
"He has refined his technique since the last time I was here," Lumiere said to the mannequin. The mannequin looked unimpressed, wooden feet clomp-clomping almost rudely past the Timer to fulfill its duty, joining the crew taking the carriage to the carriage house.
The visitors continued on foot to the main keep, even the ogres. An enchantment over the front door temporarily reduced their body space to fit indoors. Belle lagged behind to study the intricate spellwork.
He learned it from Wonderland, said Otulissa, perching on top of the doorframe to look down at Belle. But his version is different. Takes less energy to maintain.
Belle caught up to the others in the great hall of the keep. The small crowd parted for her, everyone assuming the Dark One would be eager to see her. She made it to the front of the group and stopped. There was a throne of sorts at the end of the room, but it was empty. Rumplestiltskin twirled and pranced around it without ever sitting down. Cogsworth and what seemed to be another Archon, this one a sandy-haired woman of middle years, stood behind the throne on either side. Catching sight of Belle's entrance, they muttered something to Rumplestiltskin.
He spun about and swaggered towards her, wild-eyed and twitchy. He looked her up and down, then tittered. "Come to meet your monster head on? Such a brave, brave little princess!"
"Who are you calling 'little'? I'm not that much shorter than you!" Belle could see that he was nervous, and had wanted to say something to break the ice, but his eyes bugged out even more at her familiar tone. Which was when she remembered that her feeling of acquaintance was an illusion based on meeting an older, alternate version of him. She smiled carefully. "Sorry. Long journey. Tired."
"Hmm." Rumplestiltskin managed a rueful smirk. "Yes. So I see." Then he swirled away again, his mask of careless superiority back in place. "And what of your dear companions? Is anyone going to make a proper presentation of our esteemed guests?"
Belle blushed. In the excitement of finally meeting her Dark One properly, she had forgotten everyone else. She turned. "Ah, here are my parents, Lady Colette and Prince Maurice of Avonlea." Her father would have felt slighted to be named second, but he wasn't awake to protest, and Belle felt a petty satisfaction in her mother taking precedence for once.
"Delighted to see you again, dearie." Rumplestiltskin bowed to Colette with impish grace.
"The delight is all yours, I'm sure. I take no joy in losing a daughter," Colette said with some asperity, before taking over the rest of the introductions, including the ogres, and ending with the two runaway clerics.
Rumplestiltskin sneered and circled uncomfortably close to them, causing the clerics to cluster together even more tightly. "What have we here? Two brothers of the order of the flagellants? Here to witness our happy union and call down the blessings of the gods?"
The clerics tensed, faces pale and stiff, both of them making the sign against evil. Andre pushed forward and glared at the Dark One. "You shall hear only their curses!"
Hugh restrained Andre with a hand on the other's arm. "Remember our mission, brother."
Andre's jaw clenched, but he stepped back again.
"We've come this far already," Hugh murmured to Andre.
Rumplestiltskin looked amused. "Are you here to make a deal? Or to save your pwecious pwincess from the evil clutches of the Dark one?"
Belle bit back a sarcastic comment. She could see that the Dark One wanted to have his little show, and since everyone else was already watching raptly, it would be rude to heckle him. She wasn't sure it was fair to the clerics to draft them unwittingly into the evening's entertainment, but then, this was the Dark One's home and they had voluntarily walked into it with less than pure intentions.
Andre shook his head. "It's too late... I know not how you did it, but it's clear you have your claws in the girl already. She is complicit in her own corruption."
Rumplestiltskin rolled his eyes and pretended to be hurt. "Oh!"
Andre looked even more outraged. "He mocks us at every turn. How can we parley with such a demon?"
"The archbishop needs us," Hugh reminded his comrade. "Is it not said that the lesser sin may be forgiven in pursuit of the greater good?"
Rumplestiltskin chuckled. "Now we're talking..."
Andre scowled. "Demon, in the name of the gods, release his grace, the Archbishop of Avonlea, from your foul curse!"
"Oh, but haven't you heard?" Rumplestiltskin smirked, drawing out the pause before he answered himself, "I don't serve the gods, any more than they have ever served me."
"Blasphemy!" snarled Andre.
"No, no, no. No one serves anyone," Rumplestiltskin explained with exaggerated patience. "You see, I make deals."
Andre ground his teeth audibly. "Very well. We will pay the price, in return for breaking the curse on the archbishop."
"Hmm, dear old Octavius has had quite the nap, hasn't he?" Rumplestiltskin paced dramatically, drawing out the suspense. Just when the clerics looked like they were about to burst, he nodded. "Very well. I'll do it, in return for... your scourges."
Andre gasped. "They are blessed by the goddess. Your touch would defile them!"
But Hugh was already uncoiling his scourge from where he had it tied around his waist. "Brother, it is selfishness to preserve your well of purity while a sea of darkness floods the plain."
Seeing his fellow cleric hand his sacred scourge over to the Dark One, Andre had little choice but to follow suit. "Very well."
"Then the deal... is struck!" Rumplestiltskin toyed with the Hugh's scourge, flicking the lash through the air. It vanished in a crack of magic. Then he took the scourge from Andre, cackling maliciously. He caressed the handle, then let the leather thongs slide through his fingers.
Belle watched, mesmerized. The whip gleamed oddly, but it wasn't the Dark One's magic. It shines...
The Dark One's head jerked up, his eyes wide as he sent her a startled look. It does indeed. These scourges are soaked in blood, pain, and faith.
The explanation made her skin crawl, but she understood how common objects could become imbued with potent magic through association. It was a testament to the flagellants' devotion that their instruments of self-torture were worth the Dark One's interest. She had simply never been able to see it before.
Then her train of thought was derailed by an outcry from Andre.
"What devil's spew is this?"
Rumplestiltskin replied sharply, "A language not fit for your clumsy tongue."
"What are you...?" Belle looked around in bewilderment, seeing the same confusion mirrored on the faces around her. Even Colette looked troubled. Then she gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth as the realization caught up to her that for a moment, all her thoughts had slipped sideways into a language she didn't remember learning.
It's all right. Rumplestiltskin had closed the distance between them, his eyes meeting hers, a slight smile on his lips. He patted her shoulder gently. A wee bit of linguistic resonance from spending too much time in the company of Other Me, no doubt. I'm fascinated to know what happened. I hope you'll share the story with me someday. Before Belle could formulate a response, he had whirled away again, stopping in front of the clerics. "If you insult my darling bride again, the curse on Octavius will be broken... by his death!"
Andre and Hugh blanched. They retreated a step and had the sense to keep their thoughts to themselves.
Rumplestiltskin giggled. "That's more like it." He coiled the scourge and pressed it between his hands. It glowed purple, then disintegrated into a fall of dust, which he expertly caught in a glass vial which already contained a murky red liquid. He closed the top with a cork stopper, then swished the mixture around gently until the dust dissolved and the liquid cleared into a deep ruby red. He proffered the vial to the clerics.
Andre snatched it out of the Dark One's hand and scowled at the potion. "He'll wake up if he drinks this?"
"That's the deal, and I never break my deals," said Rumplestiltskin. Then he waved a hand, sending the clerics away in a billow of smoke. After the smoke cleared, he clapped his hands, bowed, and grinned like a maniac. "All part of the service!"
Belle half expected applause. She glanced at her family, who mostly looked dazed, but it was the sight of Maurice, whose blank eyes looked at no one at all, that jolted her to ask Rumplestiltskin, "Can you wake my father, too?"
Rumplestiltskin's manic expression settled into something more wary as he turned to face her. His voice, when he finally answered, was calmer and not as high pitched, which made it even more disturbing when he said, "Can you whip yourself bloody like those two and pay for the magic with the scars on your back?"
"What?" Belle stared at the Dark One in disbelief. "Are you serious?"
"A curse should be taken seriously, don't you think?"
Colette suddenly pulled Belle back. "No! He is my husband. I will do it."
Rumplestiltskin eyed Colette speculatively. Before he could speak, the Archon, who had been silent throughout, stepped forward from behind the throne.
"It is your trial, Rumplestiltskin." Her voice filled the great hall, compelling even the Dark One to listen. "The price is yours to pay."
The silence that followed rang with the force of her command.
Caught, Rumplestiltskin looked from the Archon to Belle and her mother, and then at the rest of his visitors. He scuffed his feet noisily against the floor. Then his lips twitched in a nervous smile. "Well, that's me told, isn't it?" He gestured at the Archon. "The High Archon of Schlaraffenland, ladies and gentlemen, creatures of light and darkness, and... let's just say 'everyone,' shall we?"
Three trials for her, three for him. Belle had wondered who would set them for him, and now she had her answer.
Rumplestiltskin sighed at the continued silence. "Go on, bring the oaf over here." He waved at the throne and rolled his eyes. "I suppose this is the only chair big enough to seat him."
Belle tried not to laugh at the expression on her family's faces as they brought Maurice over.
Rumplestiltskin waited until Maurice was settled, then brushed his fingers over the man's face. Maurice closed his eyes, as if he had simply dozed off. Rumplestiltskin fidgeted, his fingers betraying the anxiety he hid from his face.
Seeing that, Belle stepped closer to him, tapped him on the arm. "Thank you."
He looked at her with startled eyes. "Ah." He cleared his throat. "Thank me if I succeed."
Belle nodded. "Of course you will." Then she smiled. "But I wish you luck, anyway!"
Rumplestiltskin stared at her in wonder. But he didn't answer, instead stepping into Maurice's shadow, out of the world and into—
"He's gone into the curse," said Lumiere, slipping for a moment back into his role as Belle's teacher. "A nightmare drawn from the darkest shadows."
