Chapter 7—"He Fell Into Despair"
"…What?"
Rumplestiltskin's voice floated up to her, sounding broken and…frightened? Fiona stopped cold, her foot freezing above a stair while she listened. She'd heard Rumplestiltskin sound many things over the past months, but she'd never heard him sound so defeated.
"I know your dagger is here," a female voice said calmly. Coldly. "And when I find it, I have all the power I could ever possibly want—and you on your knees before me."
Fiona felt like the air had been knocked out of her chest. How could she have forgotten about the dagger? She'd put it out of her mind, confident that Rumplestiltskin knew how to hide it, since he'd clearly remained free for these many years. What a fool she had been! And others clearly knew about it, too; she had a guess who the woman talking to Rumplestiltskin was, but why in the world had he not already ripped the intruder to pieces? She'd seen his temper. He was devastatingly capable of dealing out death and destruction when he so pleased, and anyone trying to take the dagger should have been a more than adequate target.
But she felt nothing, no magic in the air, no matter how slight. Quickly, Fiona continued down the back stairs, heading towards the great hall. She had just—finally!—returned from releasing those be-damned children from the Dark Realm, and she'd been burning to vent her frustrations on someone. This looked like a marvelous occasion to so. Try to enslave my son, will you? Oh, no. No, that won't do at all. Somehow, this other woman had disabled Rumplestiltskin, because all Fiona heard from him was more broken words:
"You're a bigger fool than I took you for, dearie! Your precious little dose of squid ink won't hold me that long, and once I'm free, I will destroy you!" But his voice shook, and Fiona could tell that he was blustering. He was afraid.
And that made her blood boil.
"I'll have the dagger by then, Rumple, dear. We both know that you're only so clever, and I know you all too well. I will find it easily." Fiona came around a corner in time to see a young, dark haired beauty reach out to stroke Rumplestiltskin's cheek fondly. "Then we'll make up for lost time."
"Don't touch me." The words were a snarl, but they could both see how wide Rumplestiltskin's eyes were.
"Don't you want me?" A theatrical pout. "We both know you do."
"Not anymore."
"Well, your opinion won't matter, will it?" She stepped away as Rumplestiltskin snarled wordlessly, and the implication almost stunned Fiona into inaction.
This sick woman was the one who her son had fallen for? The one who had broken his heart? Fiona was the Black Fairy, yes, and had done terrible—horrible!—things in her day. But she could hear the implication hanging in the air, and it sickened her. Rumplestiltskin might have loved Cora, but Cora clearly lacked the common decency to even care about his consent, or lack thereof. Letting out a slow breath, she focused on her fury and gathered magic to herself, burning to finally be able to protect her son when he needed protection. I have waited centuries to do this. I will not fail him now.
"Oh, look. A visitor!" She put her brightest and nastiest smile into place as the younger woman whirled to face her. "You must be Cora. How exciting"
Cora smiled. "You didn't tell me you had a new student, Rumple." Her eyes swept up Fiona's figure and then down again; she sneered. "She's hardly up to your usual standards. I feel slighted."
"A student? How terribly quaint. Is that what you think I am?"
"It doesn't matter." Cora scoffed. "Leave while you still can. I have no quarrel with you."
"Oh, but I have a very deep quarrel with anyone who tries to harm my son." Fiona moved forward, not bothering to summon her wand to hand. She would use old and dark magic beyond what fairies understood, she decided. It would even be fun.
"Your…what?" Oh, seeing that perfectly sculpted face twist up in surprise was quite a treat, and Fiona couldn't hold back a delighted giggle.
"I do hope you're familiar with the concept? I know it's terribly complicated, but I understand you are recently a mother yourself. For whatever that's worth." Fiona let her eyes sweep disapprovingly over Cora. Rumplestiltskin had told her too much about this wench he had fallen in love with, and while she appreciated the other woman's cold-blooded approach to power, Fiona wasn't about to let Cora hurt her son. "Most new mothers don't cavort off into situations that might well leave their new children motherless."
"I have nothing to fear here." Cora came back on balance with a sneer, and Fiona burned to kill her as Cora turned her sickeningly sweet smile on Rumplestiltskin. "Do I, darling?"
Rumplestiltskin snarled, his expression twisting up in fury that made Fiona's own anger look pitiful and friendly by comparison. "Don't flatter yourself."
"Well, you heard him, didn't you, Princess?" Fiona couldn't help purring out the words in an extra-sweet voice. "He doesn't want you. Do run along."
"I have no intention of leaving until I get what I came for." Cora turned to face her, and Fiona finally gave into the very temptation that had been haunting her for months.
"You mean this?" She summoned the dagger to her hand casually, watching Cora's eyes widen and Rumplestiltskin flinch. The dagger was warm in her hand, terrible, and while Fiona had been curious about how the Dark One's dagger would feel, she immediately wished she'd left it alone.
She could hear it whispering to her.
"How did you do that?" Cora's eyes were wide and hungry, and Fiona had to resist the urge to stab her with the thing. Or to order Rumplestiltskin to kill her—but no, she would not abuse her son like that. He'd never forgive her, and she wouldn't blame him.
"My command of dark magic makes what you can do child's play." She smiled sweetly. "But don't feel bad, dear. I'm the Black Fairy. It comes with the job."
The vicious little chit was a sorceress, and hopefully capable of reading a little history, which meant she should recognize that name. Fiona kept smiling, turning the dagger over in her hand casually as she watched the realization sink in. Cora could call herself royal via her marriage to an utterly uninspiring fifth son, but Fiona had never been impressed with royalty, not even when she'd been a peasant. Power mattered more than titles, and even queens bowed to fairies, anyway.
Cora clearly got the message. Her eyes widened and her lips pulled back in an expression that was far more grimace than smile, and Fiona could tell that she'd barely stopped herself from taking a step back. Yet she still obviously couldn't believe it. "You're the Black Fairy?"
"Is that disappointment I sense? I assure you that my reputation is entirely well earned, and I'll be happy to filet you if you persist in staying."
"How are you his mother? But he was born—"
"As lowly as you were? Yes, well, that was my mistake. I allowed an impertinent Blue bug to separate us, but I've returned, now. And I do think that's a matter that properly belongs between my son and I, don't you?" Fiona cocked her head. "Or are you now lamenting the fact that you married a magicless prince when you could have had the love of someone so much more powerful than you?"
The noise Cora made was a mixture of despair and outrage, but Rumplestiltskin giggled sharply.
"Fouled that one up, didn't you, Princess?" he drawled, but Fiona could see the fear still dancing in the back of his eyes. Her poor boy was stuck, and there was nothing she could do about it. They would simply have to wait for the squid ink to wear off, though she could at least deal with Cora in the meantime. He's probably nervous because I have the dagger, too, but if I let it go, this wench might just find it, and I can't have that.
The moment that Cora twisted to look at Rumplestiltskin, Fiona struck. Magic raced out of her right palm as her hand snapped up, forming a black and gold spark that struck Cora right in the chest. It threw her backwards, right into the ridiculous suit of armor next to the door, making her land with a crash. Cora yelped, but came to her feet quickly, her hands full of dark magic. She was readying something nasty, a spell driven by all the fury a heartless woman could muster, but Fiona just giggled and hit her again. This time, the suit of armor came up, reconstituting itself in midair and smashing down into the young sorceress. Small bolts of lightning played between the metal pieces as it hit, snapping against Cora and shocking her when she tried to move.
Cora cried out in pain, but Fiona only watched her try to fight the suit of armor off. Drifting a few steps forward, she intentionally put herself between her foe and her son, who was watching with transfixed interest but still frozen. His eyes showed a strange mixture of the Dark One's typical bloodlust and an aching loss, and Fiona just wanted to wrap her arms around him and shield him from the hurt this toxic little wench had put him through. Her first instinct was to kill Cora, but she could tell that there was something else going on within her son's mind.
Fiona scowled. "You want me to spare her, don't you? Just when I was starting to have fun."
"I need her."
That made her frown, even as Cora screeched, kicking fruitlessly at the still-attacking suit of armor. "Not for—?"
"No!
"Well, that's a relief." If her son had simply been so in love with this woman who had just threatened to rape him that he could forgive that, Fiona would have incinerated Cora before she let her leave the castle. She'd have to ask what Rumplestiltskin needed Cora for later, though. For now, she would finish this battle, and they could sort the rest out when Rumplestiltskin was free.
She saw no reason to waste time, however. Cora was still battling to get free of the suit of armor when Fiona hit her with another spell, and then another, twisting her this way and that and then slamming her against the wall once more. Then she launched a particularly nasty and acidic spell right at Cora's face, not feeling petty at all for wanting to ruin the vicious little twit's sharp-edged beauty. Cora had probably used that pretty face to seduce her son, and Fiona would be perfectly happy to remove that advantage of Cora's forever. Unfortunately, Cora was back on balance enough to bat the spell aside. It sailed into a nearby wall, burning a ragged hole in the tapestry that featured a dryad and a flock of birds. The hole did nothing to improve the already ugly wall-hanging, but at least it served some sort of purpose. Maybe her son would finally throw that vile thing away.
"I'll kill you for that." Cora's voice was almost inhumanely calm; Fiona supposed that was the lack of a heart talking. "And thenI will take the dagger."
"Do you really think that not having a heart helps you with magic, silly girl? True dark magic takes emotion more than just anger, you know." She laughed again. "And if you think you can kill me, go right ahead. But even if you can, Rumplestiltskin will be free long before you manage it."
"Do you think I wouldn't bring plenty of squid ink to prevent that eventuality?" Cora laughed. "I know how long squid ink can hold the Dark One."
"You think you're so smart, don't you?" Fiona didn't look over her shoulder at Rumplestiltskin; she could feel him tensing further without seeing his expression. I will not let anyone enslave him. Not my son.
Cora's response was a tornado of power, black and purple and deadly, that roared across the great hall towards Fiona. Had it hit, it undoubtedly would have sucked Rumplestiltskin in, too, but Cora was probably counting on the Dark One's typical invulnerability to save him from harm. Fiona, however, had no intention of allowing anyone to hurt her boy, no matter how slightly, so she brought her hands up and split the tornado down the middle, yanking the threads of its magic apart until Cora's grip on the spell failed and Fiona could turn it to her own ends. She didn't need to steal Cora's power, but it still felt nice.
Using the dagger to direct that magic back at Cora was even sweeter. Fiona waved it casually, hearing the whispers rise to a crescendo but blocking them out. The now-dual tornadoes followed suit, converging on Cora even as the sorceress tried to teleport away. But Cora's escape attempt came too late, and her own magic sucked her in, darkness mixing with Fiona's protective brutality. The tornadoes slammed into Cora, sandwiching her between them as she screeched in pain, tearing at her clothes, her hair, her skin, and her magic. They wouldn't kill her, not quite, but Fiona still laughed as Cora writhed and struggled to get free, blasting magic into the air. Too late, Cora seemed to realize that the tornadoes had been tweaked to draw her power away as she fought, and then she started simply trying to escape them.
"Clever." Rumplestiltskin's voice split the stillness; Fiona could tell that he was speaking as calmly as he could to mask how nervous being frozen made him. My poor boy.
"I'm glad you approve." She shot him a grin over her shoulder as Cora tried again to teleport away. "You did have to inherit it from somewhere, after all."
"Modest, too." Her son snorted. "So modest."
"What use is modesty?" Shrugging, Fiona held the spells in place for another few heartbeats, waiting until Cora was a hairsbreadth away from passing out from exhaustion. Rumplestiltskin might want her alive, but that didn't mean that Fiona couldn't make her pay for what she'd done. Finally, Cora collapsed, landing in a heap on the floor with a satisfying groan, and Fiona relished in her pain for a long moment. Then she stepped forward, using her free hand to haul the younger woman to her feet by the arm of her very expensive dress. Cora sagged against her, so Fiona pushed her into the wall, having no desire to hold her up.
"Understand me well, miller's daughter," she said softly, leaning in close, "because I will warn you but once. If you return to this castle, you will die. If you ever attempt to control or enslave my son again, you will die. Rumplestiltskin may want to kill you himself, and I won't interfere. But I shall give you this one small chance, and only for the sake of the child whom you have so recently birthed. I will not leave her motherless, even if you deserve death. Not after what was done to my son."
Cora's eyes narrowed. "You can't—"
"Don't tempt me, little girl. I meddled with greater darknesses than you have ever dreamt of before you crawled your way out of obscurity." Fiona let her smile turn into a sneer. "Now go, before I change my mind."
Interestingly, Cora's eyes flicked to Rumplestiltskin, almost looking for reassurance, but he only bared his teeth in a snarl.
"I don't recommend waiting until I'm free. Not if you want to live." He said the last word in a sing-songy trill, and Fiona could tell that the Dark One was almost completely in control right now. It sent a cold shiver running up her arm from the dagger, sent darkness stabbing into her that made even Fiona feel a little sick.
That seemed to decide it for Cora; she vanished in a swirl of purple smoke. Her teleportation was a little uneven, made ragged by her exhaustion, but she did manage to leave the castle in (presumably) one piece. Fiona half-hoped that she hadn't; the idea of Cora accidentally slicing off a limb or two was quite attractive. She still wanted to kill the wench, or at least to know why Rumplestiltskin 'needed' her, but that would be a project for another day. And today had started so well! How in the world had Rumplestiltskin gotten himself into this mess?
Fiona twisted to look at her son. "How in the world did she get close enough to you to put squid ink on you?" He didn't answer, and that only made Fiona's eyebrows rise further. "Well?"
"I was a fool." Rumplestiltskin's eyes flashed; he was still stuck, the poor boy, unable to move and express the rage she could feel rolling off him in waves. "Believe me, it's not something that's going to happen again. And I can take care of myself!"
"Yes, you were doing so very well with that when I arrived."
His eyes nearly bugged out, but Fiona could see fear underneath the fury. "I—I—"
"My poor boy," she said quietly, walking forward to touch his cheek gently. "I'm not interested in controlling you. I only summoned the dagger so that she couldn't, and it's yours as soon as you can move again. I'm your mother. I would never enslave you."
"She did." The unspoken words might as well have been shouted: And I loved her.
Fiona burned to embrace him, but even she didn't dare. The tension in Rumplestiltskin's still-frozen body fairly well screamed that he was accustomed to being abused when he was helpless. Stepping back lest her simple touch make him even more nervous, she set the dagger down on the table. "I know." There was no way to make Cora's betrayal hurt him less; all Fiona could do was offer support. "But she failed, and you're safe. And I will always do whatever I can to help you."
Safe was clearly a feeling that Rumplestiltskin was not accustomed to, but he didn't argue. And when the squid ink wore off a few minutes later, he didn't flee right away, either, although he did grab the dagger quickly, staring at her with wide eyes. He refused to talk about Cora or the dagger, of course, but they were able to sit in the hall amicably enough. It wasn't perfect, but it was a start.
Months passed, and Rumplestiltskin contemplated killing Cora, only to stop time and again because he needed her. He couldn't let what she'd done stand, couldn't let his mother have been his only defense when someone tried to steal the dagger. Fiona didn't help; she pestered him time and again to just get it over with. Or at least to tell her the truth of why he needed Cora so badly, but Rumplestiltskin found himself clamming up. Legend said that his mother had created the Dark Curse, but he just wasn't sure. The fact that she had actually defended him gave him pause, as did the fact that she'd never given him up willingly. The Black Fairy wasn't what he'd expected, and Rumplestiltskin was more than a little afraid of losing her regard.
He also couldn't remember the last time someone had helped him without asking for anything in return.
Somehow, he found his long-misused heart opening up after that. Oh, he still snarled at her, and she usually snapped back. He baited her and she goaded him. They argued and they nearly broke his castle between them on more than one occasion. Fiona developed a serious vendetta against the biting stairs, and then she enchanted his mirror to talk back at him when he'd been particularly obnoxious about her culinary taste one day. It took Rumplestiltskin three days to unravel that enchantment because he was too proud to ask her how she'd done it. Afterwards, Fiona showed him, anyway. She also offered to teach him some fairy magic, which he automatically rebelled against—before becoming fascinated by the fact that he could.
"The world's changing, you know. Cora's prince is now second in line for the throne." His mother mused the words aloud one day at dinner, making Rumplestiltskin glare.
"Due to natural causes, I assure you." Angrily, he bit of a piece of bread, resisting the urgeto mention that the deal he'd made the baker had turned out quite nicely. She'd suggested threatening the baker, or at least turning his wife into a frog until he provided bread, and Rumplestiltskin was starting to think he was going soft. Still, freshly baked bread was far tastier than anything magic could make, even if Fiona did insist on drenching it in strange sauces. At least he'd made her stop doing that to his food.
Fiona cocked her head curiously. "Are you so sure about that?"
He snorted. "Because I enchanted the lot of them not to die by any magical or mundane causes caused by Cora, that's why." A giggle escaped as several voices inside him cackled, but Rumplestiltskin pushed them aside. "Unfortunately, I can't save them from drowning. Nor from their own stupidity, which amounts to much the same. It seems to run in that family."
Fiona put her fork down and looked at him pointedly. "And you're going to let her gain power that way?"
"Do I look like someone who wants Cora to be happy?" he snapped.
"You said you needed her. You've yet to tell me why."
Rumplestiltskin looked away, his anger flagging. He still wasn't sure what she'd think. Would she be glad he wanted to use the curse she'd created? Would she tell him why she'd even written the Dark Curse in the process? Or would she laugh at him because he couldn't cast the curse himself? Why do you care what she thinks? It's not like she ever cared about you, Zoso piped up immediately, and Rumplestiltskin shook his head to try to chase the voices away. She would not have stopped Cora from taking the dagger if she didn't care.
Or she just wants your power for herself!
Shut up. His mother had given the dagger back. If that didn't prove she loved him, nothing else would. Taking a deep breath, Rumplestiltskin forced himself broach the topic he'd been avoiding for far too long. All worries aside, Fiona was an ally to put all others to shame. Once the curse was broken, having her to back him could mean the difference between a roaring success and dismal failure, assuming she didn't think him weak.
"It's her daughter I need, really." The words came slowly. "The Seer from whom I gained these powers Saw it. She will cast—"
"The Dark Curse." Fiona's eyes went wide, although whether that was from shock or dismay he couldn't tell. "You want her daughter to cast it?"
"Don't laugh at me!" He couldn't take mirth entering her eyes, couldn't cope with that from the one person who had actually stood by him. Fiona had been in his castle for over six months, now, and he'd come to want her there. Not that he'd ever told her that, or ever would.
"Rumple—"
"No! It's the only way!" The words tore out of him, and somehow he was on his feet, towering over her. "I can't get to the Land Without Magic through any portal, and the beans are gone. I need it!"
"To find Baelfire?" Her gentle voice almost calmed his temper, and then a warm hand landed on his arm. She hadn't pulled away, had she? Even if she did sound confused.
Rumplestiltskin felt himself deflate, his anger morphing into heartbreak. "Yes. I have to. Don't you see?"
A soft chuckle. "Oh, I'm not objecting, my dear boy. Simply confused." Her voice was impossibly gentle as he slumped back into his chair. "Why would you want to cast that curse? All it will do is take other children out of this realm, not bring you to yours."
"Eh…no. It doesn't." Rumplestiltskin blinked, trying to figure out where she'd gotten that idea from. Hadn't she written the curse? Was he wrong about that? Was everything he knew about that damned curse wrong?
"Of course it does. I created it—" Fiona cut off suddenly, as if she was worried she had said too much.
So, he hadn't been wrong about that. Once, Rumplestiltskin had assumed that the Black Fairy had created the curse out of sheer evilness, out of a sheer desire to see darkness reign over all the realms. Now, however, he knew his mother better than that. He knew how the Dark Realm had corrupted her, and he knew how Blue had exiled her there. Fiona hadn't given him all the details about that—a fact that Rumplestiltskin had warily filed away—but even he could see the depth of her love for him.
Despite that, he narrowed his eyes. "Why? Why create such a curse? Was it to free you from the Dark Realm—but no, not if it's taking children out of a realm, for you are no child."
"No. I combined two other ancient spells to save you." Fiona looked away for a moment, and Rumplestiltskin thought he saw tears glistening in her eyes. Don't trust her, Nimue whispered. She will ruin all your plans. You know she will! Yet he wanted to. So badly. She bit her lip. "There was a prophecy about a great evil being born that winter that would kill you. I created the curse to send all the other children away. That was why Blue exiled me."
"That's how she didn't agree with your methods?" Rumplestiltskin couldn't help the way his jaw dropped.
"Well, we never much saw eye to eye, but that did seem to strike the killing blow to our relationship."
He felt his eyes narrow again. "Whose heart did you intend to use?" Surely his mother hadn't intended to use his; that would negate the purpose of saving him. Would she have used his father's? There was a certain delicious irony there that Rumplestiltskin couldn't resist a little giggle. "Malcolm's?"
"Why would I need a heart?" Fiona's genuinely confused look left him blinking.
"The heart of the one you love most. The final and key ingredient."
His mother stared at him. "What are you talking about, Rumple?"
"That's a requirement of the curse. It will give the caster the ability to send everyone to the Land Without Magic, to destroy all the happy endings—if they so desire—and reshape a new world according to their own desires."
"That was…not the original purpose." Fiona looked thoughtful. "But I can see why you would want it, then. Only the 'heart of the one you love most'? Who would add such a thing?"
Their eyes met, and the same thought sizzled into both minds simultaneously, and both said the name like a curse: "Blue."
"That vile little bug." Much to Rumplestiltskin's surprise, it was his mother who managed to snarl those words first. "She corrupted my beautiful and elegant curse to prevent others from casting it! All because she was angry that someone other than her could twist fairy magic to their own ends!" Fiona snorted before turning back to him. "And you know of no other way to get to my grandson?"
"No." Rumplestiltskin let out a shuddering breath. "There's no other way. It's been Seen."
Fiona's upper lip curled in distaste. "And it has to be that harpy's daughter?"
"The Seer saw it. I cannot." Rumplestiltskin shrugged miserably. "I'm too close to it. I cannot see Bae, or when we'll find one another. I only know that we will, and that the Seer said the curse will be cast, but I cannot cast it."
"Hmmm." She studied him deeply enough that Rumplestiltskin had to resist the urge to get up and pace. "Let me see the curse."
Rumplestiltskin hesitated for a moment, deciding if he dared put the Dark Curse into his mother's hands. In the end, however, the fact that he probably couldn't keep her away from the scroll made up his mind; his mother was the Black Fairy, immeasurably powerful and just as sneaky as he was. She'd get ahold of the scroll if she really wanted to, and it wasn't like she'd destroy the curse she created.
"Fine." Concentrating, Rumplestiltskin summoned the scroll to his hand, and then put it on the table between them. "Here."
Unrolling the curse, Fiona studied it, clearly reading the words over and over again. She let out a slow breath, and then shrugged. "Very well. I will make a deal with you concerning this curse."
"A deal?"
Don't do it. Don't listen. Don't—
Fiona nodded, meeting his eyes steadily. "I'll help you cast my curse, but on two conditions. One: you let me deal with that ambitious little harpy. I want her out of your life. She's had her baby, and she's now outlived her usefulness. I know her kind. She will try to get your dagger again, and I won't always be here to stop her."
"I need her to push Regina towards—"
"Oh, phooey. No one can make anyone else embrace darkness like I can. Or you, for that matter." She smiled. "I want that power-hungry witch away from you before she tries something else."
"I can defend myself, Mother." He glared, but Fiona didn't seem to care. Or notice, for that matter.
"Of course you can. And you're welcome to, if you are so inclined. But if you aren't, I will." His mother's eyes met his, and Rumplestiltskin almost jerked back from the intensity in them. He wasn't afraid of his mother, but the depth of her love for him was unsettling.
"What's the second condition?" he asked to buy himself time.
"That you explore other options, other ways to find your son, first." She met his eyes squarely even as Rumplestiltskin blinked in surprise. "I will help."
"But—but it's your curse, and—"
"And it's been tampered with by Blue. Did she tell you about it?"
"Yes, but…" Rumplestiltskin trailed off for a moment before shook his head. He couldn't believe he was hearing this from the Black Fairy, from the curse's very creator! Don't listen to her. She wants the curse for herself, Zoso whispered. "There are no hidden traps. That blue bug doesn't want the curse cast. She said as much, as well as the fact that she didn't think I could do it."
Fiona snorted. "If that's not her way of manipulating you, I don't know what is."
But that made his eyes narrow suspiciously. For some reason, his mother sounded like she didn't want the curse cast, not even in its present form. Why would she care? Why it was her curse, the one she'd created to protect him. Surely Fiona would appreciate why he would want to use it to reunite with his own son. She'd broken out of the Dark Realm to come to him, after all. Yet she hasn't told you what she did to get here, now, did she?
"Why are you trying to stop me?" Rumplestiltskin asked, not keeping the hard edge out of his voice. "Why so much sudden concern about what that insignificant little flea might have done?"
Abruptly, Fiona glanced away, looking uncomfortable. "Perhaps I want better for you."
That made him giggle before he realized she was serious. "What?"
"I turned to darkness to protect you, and then doomed you to that life as well." The eyes that swiveled back to meet his were surprisingly sad. "You were right about the children, you know."
"Come—come again?" The non sequitur just confused him.
"In the Dark Realm. You were right that I should not leave them there." She shrugged, clearly trying to look casual. "I let them go."
"You…you did?"
"You asked me to." Fiona's smile was very small, but the way she reached over to take Rumplestiltskin's hand wasn't small to him.
"I didn't think you would," he whispered, feeling strange.
"Just like you have no reason to listen to me about this curse." Fiona sighed quietly before continuing. "I do not doubt the depths to which you will go to save your son, Rumple. And if casting my curse is what must be done, that is what we will do. But Blue has changed the curse if she's changed the price, and that means she was probably lying to you about it being the only way."
"The Seer saw that it would be cast…" He trailed off, shaking himself. "But not by me." Rumplestiltskin swallowed. "She said I would find my son, but she did not truly say that one would lead to the other."
"Prophecies are terrible things. Believe me, I know." Another squeeze of his hand made Rumplestiltskin want to cry. What if his mother was right? What if Blue wanted him to bring about the casting of the curse because she'd hidden something inside it that would change everything? "Now, will you accept my deal?"
Rumplestiltskin hesitated. Part of the problem was that Regina was barely one year old. Cora hadn't had a chance to make her miserable, not really. Right now, Regina loved her nanny more than she did her mother, which was certainly to be expected for any quasi-royal child. In time, however, Cora would mistreat her and corner her, would take away those she loved, thoroughly abusing Regina and her too-nice prince of a father along the way. That would shape Regina into the kind of woman who would cast his curse, and Rumplestiltskin needed that.
But did he need it to be Cora? Enough to risk Cora getting the dagger? He felt like he was drowning, faced with the ruin of all his plans or the possibility of enslavement. Or was there an option other than the curse, one in which he would not need Regina at all? Could his mother be right about that? Perhaps her power and his combined could give them a new path.
"I will help you, Rumple. Whatever it takes. If necessary, I will cast the curse myself, if that's what it takes to get you to your son. After I remove her edits, of course." His mother's voice was quiet as she interrupted his thoughts, and the gentle-but-determined tone made him swallow hard, his mind whirling with possibilities. He had never expected to have help, never expected to trust anyone with his plans…yet here was his mother, offering.
He did know a miserable little world that would be perfect for Cora, after all. Or maybe he would let his mother have her. The darkness in his mind howled a little in protest, of course—some of his predecessors were rather fond of Cora—but Rumplestiltskin ignored them and agreed to his mother's deal.
She could deal with Cora. He would explore other ways to find Baelfire, because Blue would lie about this, and he couldn't afford to be wrong. Not with Bae's future on the line.
Two days later, Cora died quietly in her bed, a victim, some said, of using too much dark magic. What none of them knew was that Fiona had laced her evening nightcap with squid ink, which was not quite toxic if ingested. Or at least not right away. What it did was freeze Cora, making her appear even deader than a sleeping curse. She was alive when they buried her, and would die slowly of suffocation, unable to speak, move, or perform any magic. Even Rumplestiltskin cringed a bit at his mother's bloodthirstiness, but when he saw the relief in Prince Henry's eyes, he almost forgave himself.
Somehow or another, Fiona wound up doing a good deed by allowing young Regina to grow up with only her father, but neither of them realized how kind their choice was at the time.
A/N: Stay tuned for Chapter 8—"The Great Wide Somewhere," in which Fiona meets the Apprentice, Blue discovers the Dark Castle has a new resident, and Belle finally comes to the Dark Castle.
