Chapter 8—"The Great Wide Somewhere"
Years rolled by after Cora's death, and Fiona tried time and again to bring her son back to his proper position in the light. Yet despite her promise to Tiger Lily, she always failed to do so, even though she could see the way he yearned for the light, could see the man he should have been peeking through. At first, her efforts were subtle; she dropped hints about how he might want to be free of the dagger's control. Unfortunately, that only sent him towards the Sorcerer's Hat, and while Fiona would never protest the idea of her son gaining more power, she did heartily object to the idea that the darkness might rule him. Toying with the hat told her that Nimue would consume Rumplestiltskin if he managed to sufficiently power the thing, so Fiona found herself doing the unthinkable and returning it to the Apprentice.
He really was insufferably moral, too. He was almost as bad as Blue.
"Take this thing back before I find a way to suck you into it before destroying it." She waved the Sorcerer's Hat at him after teleporting into the Apprentice's little home. It was safely boxed, of course; she didn't want the damned thing near her, not with its penchant for sucking magic users in.
The Apprentice eyed her warily. "And why does the Black Fairy return an object that her son the Dark One wants so desperately?"
Of course he knew Rumplestiltskin was her son. They hardly advertised the fact—most of the Enchanted Forest seemed to think their alliance was perfectly natural, if abominable—but this unbearably smug man undoubtedly had his ways of knowing. Blue might even have told him. I haven't seen hide nor hair of her, but I wouldn't put that past her. The only thing I'm uncertain of when it comes to Blue is which one of us she hates more.
"I want information in exchange." Fiona drew herself up, taking a page out of her son's book and offering a deal. "And for you to draw a portal to the Land Without Magic."
"If you mean to take your son through that portal, you cannot." He didn't look very sorry. "My magic will not permit the passage of the Dark One into that realm."
"Why not?"
"My magic was a gift from the Sorcerer himself, and Merlin wished to keep the Dark One as contained as possible."
She rolled her eyes. "It must be convenient to blame someone who is currently a tree and unable to defend himself."
"I only speak the truth."
"I doubt that." Fiona snorted. "Very well, you cannot draw a portal, but you can give me information about how the original Dark One was created. Tales say that Merlin did it, and I want to know how."
He finally blanched. "I would not share that information with you at any price. You would create a second Dark One if you could."
"Hardly. One is more than enough work." Particularly since she wanted to do the opposite, but Fiona knew that the Apprentice would blab that all over creation if she said so. That would create more problems than she was prepared to deal with. Not only was Rumplestiltskin very not ready to hear that, but Blue and her minions would undoubtedly try to prevent it, if only because it was Fiona's idea.
She'd already had to curse two fairy spies into oblivion, and Rumplestiltskin netted a third. His wand collection was growing quickly, but Fiona wasn't going to encourage Blue to send more moles their way.
"Then what possible purpose could you have?" The Apprentice's eyes narrowed suspiciously.
"My purpose is my own. It's not your business."
He crossed his arms. "Then my lips remain forever sealed."
"Fine, then I will take this back and give it to my son."
"You would not dare release Nimue and her spawn upon the world. Not with unlimited power and unchecked control!" The Apprentice looked aghast. "Even you would not—"
She laughed, and hoped her scorn rang true. "I'm the Black Fairy, you pompous old fool. Of course I would."
"Then what little is left of your son's soul would be obliterated."
Fiona shrugged as casually as she could, still smiling. "One can always have another son. Such power and potential as that hat contains might well serve as recompense for losing him."
She would never do it, but the Apprentice didn't need to know that. And she could tell that her callous words struck home. He looked ready to spit on her.
"You are an abominable creature."
"That's why they call me the Black Fairy, dearie." She gave him a sarcastic little curtsey, hating this wretched old man more and more by the moment. It was a pity that she didn't want to draw attention to herself by killing him—that would probably set Blue on her like nothing else. Because this arrogant do-gooder was Blue's particular kind of despicable. They were probably friends.
Saving my son is more important than killing petty bastards who think they're better than both of us, she told herself firmly. And killing this idiot wouldn't accomplish anything other than making me feel better.
"Very well." He heaved a sigh, but at least the Apprentice was smart enough not to pick a fight with her. "I do not see what good the knowledge can do you, anyway. Merlin's powers came via drinking from the Grail, as did Nimue's. But Nimue drank with darkness and murder in her heart, and thus became the Dark One."
Fiona couldn't help blinking. "It was that simple?" The explanation was too ridiculous to be anything but true, yet she had a hard time believing it. "She was a little angry when she drank from a special cup, so it turned her into a monster that has corrupted dozens of souls?"
"You of all people should not underestimate the power darkness has to pervert a human soul."
"I of all people know it is not so simple," Fiona shot back before she could stop herself. Yet her own willingness to crush Tiger Lily's heart had turned her to darkness, too. Was the world so black and white that one choice—even a choice not fully realized—could change your fate forever?
Perhaps it was the choice to use light magic for dark purposes that put someone on that road. Had Nimue wanted to protect people, as Fiona once had, or did she truly desire the darkness? Was that why the Dark One had become a curse? She narrowed her eyes, staring at the Apprentice.
"And what was Nimue's motivation for murder, hmm? Or are you too good and pure to tell me that, too?"
"Revenge." The Apprentice spoke the word gravely, as if it was the greatest of sins. Fiona just laughed.
"Well, that's noble enough, if perhaps a little short-sighted. But I can't imagine she tethered herself to the dagger, so how did that happen? And how is it that the curse lived on beyond her death?"
He shook his head, looking sad. "Merlin tethered her. How the Dark One has survived so long and destroyed so many remains a mystery."
"Well, isn't that helpful." Fiona sighed, and then threw the wretched hat at his feet. He'd told her what she wanted to know, and she wanted that thing as far from her son as humanly possible."But let it not be said that I don't keep my promises. Put that somewhere safe, and do try not to let my son outsmart you twice."
"That you can be sure will not happen."
The Apprentice never saw the spell that hit him in the back as he turned to go. Fiona was good at subtlety, and she really did want to make him suffer, at least a little. Killing was off the table, but after the hat was safely hidden away—Fiona wasn't about to chance it destroying her son's soul—the Apprentice would find himself transformed into a ferret. He wouldn't remain in that form for more than a few months, or less if someone helped him, but she still teleported away quite happily.
The stories were true, and an unholy alliance had indeed been formed. Seeing the Black Fairy return to the Dark Castle made Blue purse her lips; she had hoped that Cyan had been wrong. But Cyan would know the former Gold Fairy better than anyone. She had been Gold's mentor when the young fool had decided to give up her wings for a young blacksmith, and although Blue wished that Cyan had done more to dissuade Gold from becoming 'Fiona', there was sometimes nothing anyone could do. At least the Gold Fairy had been insignificant and flighty, hardly the stuff a great fairy was made out of.
Until Fiona had turned herself back into a fairy, re-claiming her wings with a spell only Blue should have been able to perform! Then she had become studied and powerful, suddenly blossoming into the type of fairy that Cyan had never dreamt she might be. Now, however, Fiona was as dark as the night itself, and a fitting mother for the longest-lived Dark One in history.
I had hoped he would never find out, Blue thought sadly, hovering far outside the monstrous castle's wards. She should have been secure!
Blue didn't know how long Fiona had been free of the Dark Realm, or even how she'd accomplished that feat. The magic holding Fiona in exile ought to have been unbreakable without a Savior's magic, and Blue knew there was no current Savior for Fiona to have killed. The Enchanted Forest was at peace, even more so than before with Cora's unexpected death. Yet it was that death that had tipped Blue off; even Rumplestiltskin, dark as he was, would hesitate to strike at a former lover like that. He'd always been strangely sentimental, which even Blue would admit kept him from dropping to the absolute depths some of his predecessors had graced. Upon learning of Cora's mysterious demise, Blue had sent the Yellow Fairy to investigate, only to find that dark magic and squid ink had done the miller's daughter in. And I know who is to blame for that without question.
"This alliance must be stopped," Cyan said from her side, sounding personally insulted by Fiona's continued freedom.
"I agree." Blue scowled thoughtfully. "But we cannot wrest the Black Fairy from the castle by force—that would only bind the two of them closer together. No, we must find a way to turn the Dark One against his mother."
Cyan snorted. "He is the Dark One. I doubt there's anything she could do that will alienate him."
"Oh, certainly not from a moral standpoint. But they are both mercurial enough that something should present itself."
Blue already had an idea, but it would take careful study to know if Fiona had told her son the truth of what she had done. Rumplestiltskin, much though it pained Blue to admit it, was a cunning and intelligent creature. He would not have accepted the Black Fairy as his long lost mother without sufficient explanation, but the question was how much Fiona had told him.
She would watch and she would learn. They had time.
Fiona had not expected her son to bring a maid back when he went to Avonlea to deal with yet another ogre incursion. She knew that Rumplestiltskin had a special spot of hatred for ogres, but she hadn't expected him to acquire anything except some silly baubles in exchange for defeating them. He certainly had an eclectic enough collection of things in his castle; what was one more added to the mix? Or perhaps he'd add another to the long list of favors that various nobles and royals owed him. Fiona didn't precisely object to him bargaining for people—she wasn't that much of a hypocrite—but she did find it strange.
But a maid? And the girl was a noble, too; that much was made obvious by the fine gown she wore as Rumplestiltskin dragged her off to the dungeon. The poor girl looked frightened half to death—but only half, which was rather impressive, all in all. Amused, Fiona watched them disappear down the stairs and then listened as the dungeon door slammed shut and the girl shouted at him. Rumplestiltskin giggled rather gleefully, probably glad that their new guest had a spine, and then he pranced into the Great Hall, looking rather satisfied. Until he saw his mother standing there, head cocked and eyebrows raised.
"What in the world did you bring her here for?" Fiona managed not to imbue the words with quite as much scorn as she felt, but only barely. She didn't want some silly slip of a girl ruining her plans for her son. Rumplestiltskin was still the Dark One—and a difficult and stubborn Dark One at that—but Fiona thought she'd brought him a little closer to the light over these twenty-five years.
Not that that meant much in the grand scheme of things. It had taken Fiona far too long to realize that that the Dark One wasn't like her; she chose darkness and could step away if she pleased. Not that she usually did, but that wasn't the point. Her choices had turned her into the Black Fairy, but the Dark One was an infestation, a darkness that couldn't be walked away from and had to be fought. Rumplestiltskin actually won more often than he didn't, a fact she put down to his love for his son—and maybe for her, maybe a just a little—but she had finally come to realize that he would someday lose that battle unless something extraordinary happened to change things.
And the last thing she needed was some useless chit here in the castle for him to torment. She didn't need the voices in his head getting their kicks out of that. Not while she was trying to save him.
He shrugged, already looking defensive. "The place was dusty. I needed a maid."
"The castle is anything but dusty, except when you want it to be, you silly boy." She rolled her eyes. "And a noblewoman is going to make a terrible maid. She won't know how to clean, and she particularly won't know how to cook, which is the one talent we could use around here."
Fiona had never been much for cooking; Malcolm had done the cooking, although not well, but she'd always let him. But she did understand all the things that noblewomen weren't taught to do, which was pretty much anything useful. Spoiled hussies, all of them.
Rumplestiltskin could cook surprisingly well, she knew, but he didn't. Instead, he let magic do the cooking, which provided gourmet variety that lacked a particular bit in the taste department. Everything was perfect, but it lacked the human flair that marked real food. Fiona wouldn't have minded if Rumplestiltskin had decided to bring home some lord's chief cook, but his daughter? That was ridiculous.
"I had to ask for something precious," he snapped, crossing his arms in return. "What would you have had me do, eliminate the ogres for nothing?"
"Of course not. But now we have to—oh, goodness, is she crying?" Fiona groaned. Surely her idiot Dark One of a son could have asked for someone quieter? Yes, the girl was likely terrified out of her mind—Fiona knew what kind of stories people told about the Dark One, even if she was pleased that most of them were untrue—but Rumplestiltskin really should have known better.
Rumplestiltskin just giggled nastily, waving a hand like he did when he was trying to put forth a confident front. "She'll get over it."
"She'll be a headache from start to finish. Why did you bother bringing her back if she was your price? Surely there are a thousand and one diabolical fates you could come up with for her." The bawling was going to give Fiona a headache, but she was willing to bet that it would drive Rumplestiltskin crazy before it did her, so she was going to make him deal with his silly little deals.
"She volunteered." This time his shrug was more uncertain. "Her blubbering father said no, but she said yes. Even with a hulking knight of a fiancé trying to forbid her."
"Really?" That drew Fiona up short. "How fascinating."
"You see?" Rumplestiltskin started to giggle again, and then cut himself short. "She's…well, if she's foolish enough to volunteer to come with me, she deserves what she gets!"
"You admire her courage." Fiona hadn't thought she'd see the day when her son actually admitted to such a thing, but the way he turned away and started muttering under his breath gave him away. She had lived in his castle on and off (though more on than off) for over two decades now, and Fiona thought she knew him fairly well. She hadn't truly tempered him; she wasn't certain that one could do that to the Dark One, despite her best efforts. But she had come to know him, and she liked to believe that she'd given Rumplestiltskin someone in his life to depend upon. He even smiled sometimes, these days. They fought more often than not, of course, but they also had quiet moments where they truly felt like family.
She had not thought such a thing was possible since she'd realized that the darkness inside Rumplestiltskin would not be easily she'd also seen him fight that same darkness in small ways that surprised her and made Fiona more proud than words could express. No, she hadn't brought him back to his proper path as she'd promised—which a small voice in the back of her mind that sounded like Tiger Lily continuously chided her for—but she could see that he was not a truly evil man. Not yet. Not even with that darkness eating at him worse than the Dark Realm ever ate at me. Free of that horrid place, Fiona could concentrate on building a family with her son, and she found that strangely fulfilling. Once, she'd been obsessed with "winning" against the light, but her promise to Tiger Lily all but took that option off of the table, anyway.
Her son was enough, even when he confused her. Right now, Rumplestiltskin was busy toying with his spinning wheel, his movements aimless and distracted. He was pretending that he hadn't heard her previous comment, which was generally how he dealt with things he didn't want to deal with.
Not that Fiona was going let him get away with that.
"Are you going to leave her in that dungeon, Rumple? It's terribly uncivilized." She gave him a pointed look, and he glanced over his shoulder at her.
"Why? Do you feel sorry for her? The Black Fairy, feeling pity!" His face twisted up in a mocking smile as giggled, and Fiona heaved a sigh. "Isn't that remarkable?"
"Did those fools receive you so badly that you feel the need to take it out on your mother, or are you just in a particularly foul mood?"
He sneered. "I don't care what they think of me."
That was a yes, of course, even if he wouldn't admit it. Someone had likely called him a monster again, or worse. Rumplestiltskin flung labels like that on himself carelessly, and he never acknowledged that hearing others call him such things hurt. But Fiona knew they did. She understood, having been called the same thing herself the first time she tried to save an unwanted child. Back then, she'd still wanted to be good, still burned to make things right with her family, and the label had burned particularly deep. Yet she also knew that saying so wouldn't help them at all. Rumplestiltskin would only close himself off again and she would spend weeks pretending she didn't notice that he was ignoring her. Or throwing fireballs at him for it.
"Are you going to keep her down there?" The wailing was going to get old if nothing else did.
"Can't very well be the beast if I don't leave the beautiful maiden in the dungeon, now, can I?" He giggled that annoying little laugh of his, and Fiona didn't bother not to roll her eyes.
"Don't blame me for people's hatred when you insist on playing a part you are ill-suited for. Your cackling villain façade could use some work."
"Ill-suited?" Rumplestiltskin giggled again, blithely ignoring her second sentence. "I'm not sure what world you've been living in, Mother, but I am the Dark One. There's no one more suited than I!"
"This one's better than the last," she muttered dryly, but Rumplestiltskin ignored her, walking over to his spinning wheel and settling in.
Fine. She would let him listen to the girl sob and see what he did. Fiona wasn't about to help him out of the idiotic situation Rumplestiltskin had gotten himself into; besides, she had better things to do. She had spied on an interesting young fairy weeping for lost love just a week earlier, and Fiona was contemplating trying to turn Nova against Blue's idiotic rules about love. She knew what it was like to give up your wings for love—and Fiona also knew how to get them back without Blue's permission. Nova had fallen in love with a dwarf, which amused Fiona to no end, but it might also suit her purposes well. Taking on a student would be fascinating, particularly since young Regina didn't seem to need a teacher now that Rumplestiltskin had found Cora's actual firstborn. The insane chit had come from Oz to make herself King Leopold's new wife, and Zelena was already grounded in dark magic. Fiona didn't like her at all, but if someone was going to pay the horrendous price that Blue had tacked onto her beautiful curse, Zelena was well-suited to such a nasty fate.
Zelena had also tried to follow in her mother's footsteps and crawl straight into Rumplestiltskin's bed, but Rumplestiltskin had avoided that adroitly. Fiona often contemplated whispering the fact that Cora had beaten her into said bed in Zelena's ear, yet she kept that fact in reserve for the perfect moment of irony. She and her son had made a volatile and yet very effective team these past decades, and Fiona knew that this maid would be nothing more than a ripple on the surface of their lives. Rumplestiltskin would bore of tormenting her soon, anyway, and find someone else to foist her off on. Odds were, the girl would wind up better off after a little misery, anyway.
She wasn't there when her son gave the noble wench a pillow, just to quiet her crying.
In hindsight, Belle's first day in the Dark Castle hadn't been toobad. Aside from that incident with the cup, Belle thought things had gone all right. She was still alive, anyway, and her virtue was still intact. Belle had expected to lose either her life or her innocence by the end of her first night there, so the fact that she hadn't was a pleasant surprise. So, although she really did wish that she'd been wearing a more sensible dress when she'd agreed to go with the Dark One, Belle figured that she was still ahead of the game.
He'd barely even bothered to look at her when he let her out of the dungeon that morning, too. Gaston and every other oaf in Avonlea and the surrounding kingdoms had leered at her with far more interest than the Dark One currently was, and Belle found that almost a little unsettling. Aside from his one not-so-sly innuendo about his "very large estate", the strangely-skinned sorcerer hadn't so much as glanced her way with a hint of lust. Having been drooled over by men from the age of fourteen, Belle understood what to do with males who desired her, but one who barely seemed to notice her looks was, well, different. Does he really want a maid? she wondered, heading into the great hall to dust as she'd been bidden. Rumplestiltskin had said so, but she hadn't really believed him.
An hour into dusting his vast collection of strange and sometimes gross things, Belle almost wished he'd wanted a concubine instead of a maid. Who could have known that dusting was so boring? She found the odds and ends fascinating but was afraid to touch most of them; who knew what kind of magical traps the Dark One had set? Still, the more minutes passed, the braver she grew, and about halfway through the left side of the room, she finally gave in to her curiosity.
After all, what harm could the large mallet with three runes on the end do? She just wanted to pick it up and see what it felt like in her hand—
"I wouldn't try that if I were you. Not unless you want to lose that pretty little hand of yours."
The new voice made Belle spin around guiltily, though she certainly hadn't been expecting to hear another woman in this place. This one was older than she, and dressed in an equally fancy manner, though she was in a fancy black and silver gown instead of Belle's large-skirted ball gown. She was watching Belle with an expression of frank amusement, with a naughty kind of mirth dancing in her eyes, but Belle squared her shoulders and met that gaze boldly.
"Who are you?" Did Rumplestiltskin have a habit of grabbing noblewomen, or was this woman a visitor?
"I'd ask you the same question, except I know you are the new maid." The older woman cocked her head, giggling. "Do you have a name, girl? Or shall I make one up for you?"
She brought her chin up, refusing to be cowed. "I am Belle of Avonlea. And I may be a maid, but I am here by choice." But Belle was too curious to let the other woman's lack of an introduction slide. "And you might be…?"
"You are rather plucky, aren't you?"
"If necessary." Belle did her best not to color in embarrassment. "Are you the lady of this castle, or are you just a visitor?"
Perhaps Rumplestiltskin liked older women. Belle had met men with stranger proclivities, after all. If so, she had nothing to fear for a decade or so, and Belle devoutly hoped that 'forever' didn't last that long. Even if she was prepared to face whatever came. Could this be her predecessor? That was an unsettling thought.
The older woman laughed again. "Rumplestiltskin has no lady, though I do live here. I am his mother. But you can call me the Black Fairy."
"His…what?" Belle's mouth dropped open, and she just stared. She didn't even hear the last sentence until after the words were out of her mouth, and Belle couldn't decide which part was more shocking. Rumplestiltskin's mother was a fairy? An evil fairy?
"I'm sorry, were you expecting glittery skin and scales?" Another laugh. "Or perhaps wings? I do have the latter, but they're terribly inconvenient when in human form, which I do prefer. Unlike Blue and her idiot followers."
"You're…a fairy. But he's—"
"The Dark One, yes. And you should be dusting, Belle of Avonlea, not gaping at me like a dead fish. You never know what my darling boy might do to you."
Belle clamped her mouth shut, her face afire with embarrassment. Yet she hadn't ever been the type to meekly to back to work just because someone glared at her, so she tried again, even as her mind boggled over the idea of the Dark One being anyone's 'darling boy'. "Do you have a name, or do I just call you 'Blackie'?"
Brown eyes narrowed ominously. "You can address me as My Lady or nothing at all."
That glare made her swallow despite her courage. Belle had read books that mentioned the Black Fairy, and they all spoke of her as an exiled power whom the Blue Fairy had long since defeated. Had Rumplestiltskin freed her? "I just wondered—"
"Don't look to me for pity. You made your bed and now you can lie in it. I'm hardly some motherly figure who is going to save you." The way the Black Fairy cut her off immediately made Belle glower.
"I wasn't trying for pity! I know what deal I made, and I'll live up to it, thank you very much." Belle found the implication that she'd try to weasel her way out of work insulting. "I was going to say that all the books I have read say that the Dark One isn't human or part fairy. How can he be your son if he is not?"
Rumplestiltskin's mother studied her for a moment. "Oh, dear. You're plucky and clever." Suddenly, she laughed again. "Some might even call you dangerous."
"I'm not dangerous. I'm just curious. There's no harm in that."
"Don't try to hide it, you silly girl. Those two are quite often one and the—"
"I'm going to kill that witch!" Rumplestiltskin's voice thundered into the hall before he appeared, striding through the double doors with murder on his face. Belle flinched instinctively, not sure what to make of a furious Dark One. Would he lash out? Her books said that the Dark One was powerful but unpredictable, prone to harming anyone in his way. She took a cautious step back, only to note that the Black Fairy had done no such thing. Rumplestiltskin's mother, in fact, had only sighed, looking quite bored.
"What has that idiot Zelena done now?"
"She killed Regina's stableboy. Something about how if she can't be happy, why should her half-sister find True Love?" His voice went high-pitched and sing-songy as his head bounced back and forth like it was on the end of a spring. "And then she tried to have some poor sot of a Huntsman cut her stepdaughter's heart out!"
The Black Fairy laughed. "Oh, my. That is a bit over the top, isn't it? But it does have a little panache, I'll grant her that. Except for the failure part." She put a thoughtful finger to her lips. "Did she manage to kill Regina?"
"Of course not. She's on the run with precious little Snow White, of course." Rumplestiltskin snorted. "So much for using that couple for my potion."
"I did tell you that you didn't need both of Cora's daughters around. Don't complain to me when you can't keep both of them in the air at the same time. Cut your losses. Kill the crazy one and corrupt the nice one, or embrace the insanity."
"Oh, that's terribly helpful, Mother." Rumplestiltskin tittered nastily. "I seem to remember you saying—what are you doing here?"
His unsettling golden eyes suddenly focused on Belle, who wished she could sink into the ground. Clearly, she'd just witnessed something she wasn't supposed to overhear, and as fascinated as Belle was—because she wanted to know everything!—she was smart enough to realize that this could get her in trouble. Fast.
"Dusting?" She held up her duster desperately, hoping that might prove she'd been hard at work.
"Bah. Go…go clean somewhere else. Try the outer hall." He gestured dismissively, and Belle wasn't stupid enough to argue. Not on her first day.
Besides, if she didn't fully close the door, she could keep eavesdropping, so she scurried through and eased the door most of the way shut behind her. Just like she'd expected, Rumplestiltskin stopped paying attention to her the moment she was out of the room. He's just like other men. If they're not lusting after me and plying me with false compliments, they assume I'm an idiot, she thought smugly. How many of her father's war councils had she spied on using just this same method? Far too many to count. Rumplestiltskin's mother might have been a fairy, but he seemed just as fallible as any other man. That was good to know.
"Is she sniffing around you again, Rumple?" The Black Fairy practically cooed the words, and Belle thought she heard her bouncing in glee. "I'd be happy to scare her away from you."
"I can take care of myself, thank you very much." The words were a snarl, but they didn't seem to elicit a response. Curious, Belle peeked through the opening, and saw Fiona giving her son an amused look. "I don't need coddling!"
"Of course you don't. But you do need to find her some pretty and randy boy to take her mind off of you." Fiona pursed her lips thoughtfully. "What about King Georgie's boy? The one you've been shepherding along so carefully?"
"Ah, no. I have other plans for that one."
"Then find someone noble who isn't a prince. A handsome enough face will turn her head easily enough, particularly if he salivates enough over her. She really is that shallow, and she did kill her husband, so now she's quite free."
Rumplestiltskin swung into Belle's line of vision, eyes narrowed. "I don't need advice, Mother."
"Of course you do. Don't be silly."
"Mother!"
Magic slammed the door shut before Belle could catch more of Rumplestiltskin's response, but it sounded an awful lot like a temper tantrum through the heavy wooden door. Unable to make out words, she finally turned to dusting the outer hall, her mind swimming with curiosity. Rumplestiltskin hadn't mentioned that his mother lived with him when he made a deal for her, and Belle was beginning to wonder what other fascinating secrets he had tucked away.
Of course his mother took the girl's side, why he didn't know. Maybe she just liked getting under his skin.
"Give her a room, Rumple," Fiona argued after he'd teleported Belle into the dungeon on that third night. "It's going to get cold in there, and frozen help isn't exactly help."
He rolled his eyes, trying to spin but unable to concentrate through his mother's nagging. "Hardship builds character."
"No wonder you and I have more character than the world can stand." Her light response made him turn and glare, but Fiona only shrugged innocently.
Not that the woman had an innocent bone in her body. Rumplestiltskin scowled.
"Pretty little thing has likely never known discomfort. It might do her good." Never mind that he knew what a kingdom at war against the ogres was like, and what he'd seen of Belle didn't make her seem like the hiding type. She'd been brave enough to take his deal while her father blubbered and her fiancé failed at looking strong. And she hadn't broken under his nastiness during the last three days, either. In truth, he was impressed, but not enough to admit it to his mother.
"That's true enough." She shrugged. "I don't particularly care if she freezes to death, of course, but I thought the bleeding heart you try to hide wouldn't like letting your new maid die by accident."
He glared at her. "She's not going to die in there." His dungeons weren't that cold. They were certainly warmer than Zelena's.
"Humans are so fragile, you know." His mother's tone was so blasé that he knew she had to be planning something. Fiona often was, even though Rumplestiltskin still had a hard time figuring out what was going on in his mother's head. She was supportive of him, and gave him the unconditional love that he'd always wanted, yet he wasn't sure he understood her, even after twenty-plus years together. So, he said the only thing he could think of.
"Oh, shut up."
Fiona laughed, and Rumplestiltskin turned back to his wheel, determined to ignore her. She let him for a few moments, but he struggled to find his rhythm because of the way she was all too obviously watching him, plotting and planning. Then Fiona finally commented:
"Are you looking forward to that ridiculous ball gown of hers being ruined by cleaning, or have you just not noticed she's wearing it?"
"What if I want it to be?" Frustrated, he twisted on the wooden seat to face her. "Maybe I fancy the image of the ragged noble servant. Are you going to threaten to do it for me?"
Fiona didn't interfere in his affairs, or at least not often. She actually hadn't since she'd killed Cora, a fact she was more than a little proud of. He'd more or less allowed that to happen, anyway, so it wasn't like he had a right to complain on that front . Still, he hadn't a maid home since her arrival, either. Was she annoyed that he'd brought Belle into their lives? Perhaps he should have asked her. This is my castle. I can do what I want! The thought sounded whiny even in his own mind, though, so Rumplestiltskin didn't voice it.
Fortunately, Fiona snorted and answered his question before he could get stupid. "Of course not. She's your problem. And I do find it amusing."
"Good!"
He didn't know what else to say, and Fiona let the subject drop, so Rumplestiltskin turned back to his wheel. Perhaps he should get rid of the girl. If Belle's presence was going to make his mother act strangely, he couldn't handle that. He liked having Fiona to himself, even if it had taken Rumplestiltskin years to admit that. She was rather nice to have around, even if they spent half of their time fighting. She was smart, and sharp, and didn't care that he was the Dark One. Oh, her strange schemes and inexplicable motives baffled him sometimes, but generally speaking, Fiona wasn't terrible to have in his home. Sometimes he even enjoyed the moments when they weren't arguing.
So, if she started fraternizing too much with the help, well, he'd just get rid of the help.
A/N: Stay tuned for Chapter 9—"And Almost Kind," in which Belle confronts Rumplestiltskin about her duties, Fiona reveals how much she knows about the Dark One, and Belle and Rumplestiltskin slowly grow closer.
