Chapter 11—"That May Not Make Me Wise"
Bae had been hiding with the pirates—or, technically, with Smee—for days. He'd lost track of how many, because telling time on Neverland was absolutely pointless—but he knew he'd be found out eventually.
He just hadn't expected it to be by Hook.
"What have we here?" The pirate captain pulled away the lid of the barrel Bae had retreated back into with a laugh. He'd been hiding on the far side of the ship, mostly, except when the Lost Boys came back in that direction. They were still looking for him, but no one seemed to have gone to get Pan, at least.
Maybe Rufio and Felix didn't want to admit they'd lost Bae yet again.
"This doesn't look like rum!" Hook's men all laughed, of course. Bae had noticed long ago that they always laughed at Hook's jokes, either because they were drunk or just stupid. Or maybe scared. Still, Hook's grip when he pulled Bae free was firm and sober enough. "You'd make for very poor drinking, lad, and I have an agreement with Pan not to steal any of his Lost Boys. So, you'd best start talking before I make you walk the plank."
"Right now, walking the plank would just put me in the sand." Bae shrugged as he straightened, figuring that he had nothing to lose by being brash. "It's not a great threat."
Hook laughed uproariously before turning a hard glare on Bae. "Right you are, lad, but that doesn't mean there aren't a hundred ways I can make you suffer. So, fess up—what are you here for? What did Pan send you to steal?"
"Steal?" Bae snorted. "Nothing. I'm hiding from Rufio and his sick band of jerks."
"Hiding? Why would one Lost Boy hide from another?"
"Because I don't want to be here, and I wouldn't be if you hadn't sold me to them!"
"Aye, and I wouldn't have sold you to them if you'd been cooperative, but we both know what you think of me, Baelfire, so let's not play games." Hook shrugged. "You don't want to be a pirate, and you don't want to be a Lost Boy. It seems to me that you're on the wrong island."
"Tell me about it," Bae muttered darkly.
"I do believe I just did. Run along, lad. You're better off with boys your own age."
Bae rolled his eyes and started trudging away. "Fine."
There was no winning with the pirates, but at least they weren't trying to make him the donkey in pin the tail on the donkey. Part of him even contemplated the idea of asking if Hook's old offer to become a pirate was still on the table, but Bae rejected that immediately. Firstly, he didn't want to play happy family with the man who had stolen his mother away (no matter how willingly his mother had been stolen). And secondly, the fact that he was angry with his father didn't mean he wanted Rumplestiltskin to die. Hook had been pretty blunt about his desire for revenge, and Bae wasn't an idiot. Hook would want his loyalty and his help, and Bae wasn't going to help anyone murder his father.
Even if his father was—
"Skulking with the pirates, are we?" Rufio's voice interrupted his train of thought, and Bae froze. The sun had set, which meant Rufio had managed to creep up on the pirates' camp in the shadows made by their large bonfire. Now he was all too close, and pointing a sword right at Bae's heart. "Traitor. I should have known you'd come here. You're nothing better than a pirate."
"I'm not, but it's better to be a pirate than a lunatic like you!" Bae couldn't stop himself from saying that, although the way Rufio's eyes went wide told him he shouldn't have.
Rufio had always been a little unstable. He wasn't sure where Pan had found him, but Rufio was dangerous. He never went too far beyond the line, but he was always a little worse than everyone else, even Felix. Rufio hated Neverland, too, but he liked the power that being one of the top Lost Boys gave him.
"I'll kill you for that."
Bae laughed. "No you won't. Pan won't—"
Rufio lunged, and he was too close for Bae to do more than dodge desperately. But then Rufio swung back at him, lunging again, and Bae tripped over a rock. He braced himself for the killing blow, thinking of home and his father and—
And that was Rufio impaled on Hook's sword, wearing a slack-jawed expression of shock. The Lost Boy took one last rattling breath before going limp, and Hook freed his sword with a jerk. Bae could only stare. After a long moment, he wet his lips and managed to say:
"Thank you."
"Don't thank me, lad. We both know I'm not your friend." Hook seemed strangely serious, and a little self-conscious. "But pirate though I am, I couldn't let your mother's son die today."
"I…I…I don't know what to say."
"Best say nothing and run along, then. Pan will be about shortly, and the last thing you want is him to know you were involved in his favorite psychopath's death."
"You'd lie to him for me?"
"Aye. Or for your mother." Hook shrugged. "Be gone, Baelfire."
"But Pan will be angry." He should just run, but Bae was grateful. Hook hadn't had to save him. Hook didn't even like him. He'd sold him out to Pan, after all, and Bae knew that was because he'd refused to stick around and be Milah's adoring son for Hook.
"Well, there's nothing new in that. Irritating our childish overlord is one of my special talents." Hook grinned, but Bae could hear something odd in his voice. "Now go before the other Lost Boys get here. Likely, this one was just the advance scout. Get you gone."
This time, Bae listened, but it was with a funny feeling in his gut that he couldn't quite explain.
Belle felt strangely optimistic. Oh, the rational part of her said that allying with the Black Fairy in any way was a bad idea; legends said that the Black Fairy stole children, and Belle had even read one book that called her "an abomination against all things faery". Yet all the books she'd read called the Dark One the greatest of monsters, too, and Belle had already discovered that Rumplestiltskin could be strangely kind. And gentle, even, at times. The way he looked at her suggested that he had feelings for her, too; Belle just had to figure out what that meant.
She also had to figure out why the Black Fairy wanted her to join her in her rooms that day. Rumplestiltskin was off making some deal or another, and Belle had hoped to spend the day in the library with a new book she'd started reading, but she wasn't stupid enough to refuse the Black Fairy's request, even when it was phrased nicely. Her head was still spinning over what the Black Fairy had said several days earlier, about how she might be the key to freeing Rumplestiltskin from the curse that made him the Dark One. She hadn't even known that being the Dark One was a curse before that, but learning that the (supposedly) darkest of all fairies wanted to free Rumplestiltskin from that curse was still a shock.
Still, she'd never shrunk from a challenge, and Belle wasn't about to start now. So, she stopped in the doorway, surprised to see the Black Fairy surrounded by books, scrolls, and aged pieces of parchment. "What did you want to see me for?"
"I understand you're quite the little bookworm." The Black Fairy smiled as Belle bristled. "Oh, don't take that wrong. I've been known to indulge more than once in a while, and you have seen the library my son gave you, haven't you? You've in good company, here."
"I suppose so." Belle stopped herself from twitching. She supposed that Rumplestiltskin had to have loved books in order to have enough to give her a library, so shouldn't be a surprise to learn he'd gotten that from his mother. "You still didn't tell me what you want."
"Your help, of course." The answer was brisk and blunt enough to take Belle aback. "I liberated this information from the Sacred Vault of the Fairies, but there's quite the mountain of it. If you truly want to help my son, I thought you might help me go through it."
She narrowed her eyes. "You could just ask instead of trying to guilt me into it."
"Why? Don't you want to help him, or are you just in this to find ways to make your servitude more bearable?"
"Of course I do! But that's not the point." Belle crossed her arms. She might not have magic, but she didn't like being ordered about like some inferior, at least not when the Black Fairy wanted her help.
"Then what is? I'm hardly in the mood for a lecture about respect from some landed knight's daughter, so if that's what you're getting at, do spare me and go away." The Black Fairy rolled her eyes, and Belle wanted to smack her.
That, however, was a bad idea no matter how it was sliced, so Belle resisted. Instead, she shot back: "Would it lower you so much to ask nicely?"
"Lower?" The Black Fairy echoed the word like she wasn't sure what it meant, and then she shook her head, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Sometimes, I forget…"
"Forget what?" Belle knew she shouldn't ask, but she was unbearably curious.
"Nothing." A glare. "Now, will you help me research, or not?"
Belle figured that was enough of a victory for the day, and she really did want to see what had come from the Sacred Vault of the Fairies. So, she smiled and sat down at the table. "Yes. I will."
King George had just put himself on the list of people Zelena needed to kill.
He knew that she liked Prince James. And she was a queen, ruling her own kingdom. Why would he want to look any further than that? James was fond of her, too; in fact, Zelena knew he was most of the way in love with her. But his idiot of a father had decided that Princess Abigail would suit his purposes better, all because Midas had an unfortunately golden touch? It was ridiculous! And now James was off fighting some stupid creature or another, all because Midas had issues and he couldn't call upon someone logical to deal with them. Really, how hard could it be to get rid of a dragon? Only an idiot would set up a prince to fight said dragon to prove that prince was worthy of his pasty-faced daughter.
Zelena was of half a mind to go interfere in that little test and claim James as her own. George was almost as stupid as Midas for going along with this. Yes, she'd cut trade off to his little kingdom—she didn't really care why Rumple had wanted that—but surely George realized that if James could win her over, that little problem would go away. It was all so stupid. Yes, she should go and—
"Your Majesty?" One of her guards poked his head in the throne room, looking a little nervous.
"What is it now?" She couldn't remember his name. Was it Colin? Cameron? Maybe Claude, though that didn't sound right. Not knowing made Zelena scowl, even though it shouldn't. She was queen. She didn't have to remember things like guards' names.
"You have a visitor. A pirate captain, who says he's here to talk to you about 'mutual profit' of some sort."
"A pirate captain?" Zelena stopped her wild pacing and turned to glare at her guard. "Then why is he outside, you fool? Send him in!"
She was surrounded by fools, but there was naught to do about that. Sighing, Zelena lowered herself gracefully onto her throne and waited for the pirate captain to arrive. At least this should be interesting…and he turned out to be rather handsome, too. She always did enjoy a pretty face.
"Can I…ask you something?" Belle asked the Black Fairy the second time they sat down to do research together.
Belle had thought a lot about her feelings for Rumplestiltskin in the week that had passed since the Black Fairy had first asked her about them, and her conclusions frightened her more than a little. She was terribly attracted to him, even with his scaly skin and wild hair. Truth was, she didn't really care about his looks. She liked his hesitant smile, the sweetness he tried so hard to hide, and the way he looked at her like she was the only person in the room. She knew that he liked her, even when Rumplestiltskin tried so hard to act casually, and that knowledge made Belle's heart flutter wildly. And yet…she wasn't some starry-eyed girl who thought every story had a happy ending. Belle needed to know.
The Black Fairy turned to face her, arching an eyebrow. "It depends on what you're asking."
"It's about Rumplestiltskin." Belle took a deep breath. "I don't understand him."
"That's because he enjoys being an enigma. It doesn't come with the Dark One, though—the strong emotions and dramatics definitely run in the family." The Black Fairy laughed, and then her voice softened slightly. "But the real problem, of course, is that he doesn't know what he wants, so figuring it out can be a bit of a challenge."
The way the Black Fairy laughed off the first part left Belle feeling a little unsettled. She really didn't understand the relationship between mother and son; sometimes, they seemed so very close, and other times, they shouted and threw things at one another, including fireballs. Well, that was only once. And it was Rumplestiltskin throwing it, though his mother sent it right back at him. She thought there was a deep love between the two, yet what kind of mother called their son an 'idiot boy' to their face? It didn't make sense, and Belle didn't dare get any deeper into this mess until she understood what in the world was going on.
"He said he'd never made a snowman." The words blurted out before she could figure out what else to say.
"Ah. That." There was a scowl on the Black Fairy's face that Belle couldn't quite decipher. "That would be because his selfish father clearly never taught him."
Belle blinked, trying to figure out why the Black Fairy would blame Rumplestiltskin's father and not herself. "And where were you?"
"Exiled." A snort. "Exiled because the Blue Fairy and I had a…disagreement. I never knew my son until after he was already the Dark One. Why do you think I'm so determined to save him?"
"Oh." Belle swallowed; she hadn't thought that could have happened. Somehow, she assumed that the Black Fairy had borne Rumplestiltskin and raised him—but raised him to be the Dark One? That made sense at first glance, but perhaps things ran deeper. "Is that why you want to save him?"
"Of course it is. He was not supposed to—well, no mother likes to see their son as the Dark One. Even the Black Fairy."
"I'll help if I can." Belle wondered about what the Black Fairy almost said, but she knew she wouldn't get an answer if she asked. Instead, she squared her shoulders and looked Rumplestiltskin's mother in the eye. "But I won't do it behind his back. I'm going to talk to Rumplestiltskin about this."
"You really are a direct hero-type, aren't you, dear?" The Black Fairy looked a little put out as she sighed. "You do realize he'll just get his impossible back up and resist us every step of the way, don't you?"
Belle frowned. "Why would he? Wouldn't he want to be free?"
"Because that insidious curse works on his mind in ways that even my darkest magic can't match. I am here because of the choices I made. Rumplestiltskin is cursed. And such a curse cannot be wished away. It must be fought and defeated."
"Then how do you expect me to help?" Belle couldn't argue with the sense behind what the Black Fairy said, and yet she rebelled against the idea of anyone, particularly the good man she sensed behind Rumplestiltskin's monstrous façade, not wanting to be free of such horrible darkness. Yet if the curse worked on his mind…maybe he couldn't. Maybe she had to help him despite himself.
I don't know enough. I don't even know what she's asking me to do, and she hasn't said, Belle thought warily. She needed to do more research, yet all the books she needed were here in the Black Fairy's room. How could she get at them without the Black Fairy knowing? That would be hard.
"People need reasons to fight." The Black Fairy looked away, her eyes clouded by memories. "Perhaps you can give him one."
"No pressure, then."
"Oh, there's plenty of pressure!" A manic grin. "For both of us. But let us start with these texts on the first Dark Ones. If we know the roots of the curse, we can perhaps find its cure." A side-eyed glance. "But you can't read fairy, can you?"
"Actually, um, I can." Belle shrugged a little, secretly pleased by the shocked look that statement earned her. "There wasn't much to do at home other than read."
"My, my, you are full of surprises."
He felt guilty.
That was the only possible explanation for the sickly tight feeling in his stomach, for the way he wanted to drink himself under the table—a difficult proposition for the Dark One, even when one wanted to get drunk. He'd emptied his flask at the farmstead without feeling much, though, and now that he was back in the Dark Castle, Rumplestiltskin had already fetched a bottle of something stronger. Having finished that, however, he lacked the motivation to go get a second one. Or maybe he just thought he deserved to feel so horrible. I took a son from a loving parent. I am the monster they all take me for.
Even worse, I took both of her children away.
Yet if he'd let George have his way, it would have been threats and armed men fetching the shepherd away from his mother. George would have himself a replacement son, one way or another, and he wouldn't have given David a choice. Rumplestiltskin had, and he'd been impressed by the young man's desire to save his family farm. Even then, he still felt guilty, because Rumplestiltskin knew David's time as a prince would not end with dragonslaying. No, he'd Seen what would come, had always known that one of Ruth's sons would find Snow White and True Love. Of course, given that Princess Snow was now a bandit on the run, she could very well stumble upon that farmstead…but he didn't think she would.
No. While the thought of tearing a child away from a loving parent had made him drink, the sick knowledge that George wouldn't let this new 'son' go made him stop. Rumplestiltskin knew the pieces he'd put into play, and he was monster enough to do nothing to stop George. He needed David to meet Snow, needed the two to fall in love and fight for one another. He wasn't precisely sure how it was going to happen, but Rumplestiltskin knew that it would. And then their daughter—
Crash.
Leaping to his feet, Rumplestiltskin whirled around to see the door to his tower workroom open and Belle flailing in the doorway. His pretty little maid had managed to bump into the enchanted suit of armor that he'd been fooling with the day before, and even as he watched, she struggled for balance, her arms windmilling wildly. That, of course, made her drop the tea service she'd been carrying, and the tray started to flip over as she gasped in horror. Belle dove for the tray, but it was far too late—until Rumplestiltskin snapped his fingers irritably and teleported the entire tray (pot, cups, biscuits, and all) onto a nearby table.
Belle caught herself and gave him an embarrassed smile, brushing hair out of her face. "Thank you."
"Can't have you breaking my favorite cup again, can we?" He tried to give her a nasty look, but somehow it came out as almost a smile. He didn't know what it was about the girl—or, fine, maybe he did—but looking at her flustered-but-grateful expression warmed his heart.
You don't have a heart to warm. It's a black lump of nothing, Zoso reminded him, but Rumplestiltskin shook his head to chase the voice of his predecessor away. He didn't care what Zoso thought. He never had.
"No. Of course not." Belle gave him a cheeky smile, but there was something off in her eyes.
Rumplestiltskin peered at her curiously. "Why so clumsy? It's not like you to trip."
"You moved the suit of armor."
"Eh, no. It moved itself. Technically."
"With your magic." She gave him a droll look, and Rumplestiltskin couldn't help giggling.
"But not by my doing!" He sing-songed the words at her, but Belle just rolled her eyes. Normally, however, she would have laughed, and the difference made Rumplestiltskin cock his head. "The tea's getting cold, you know."
She shrugged. "I didn't think you'd notice with so much alcohol on your breath."
"I—" Rumplestiltskin chopped the word off, drawing back. "I don't see what business of yours that is."
"It's probably not." She met his eyes, and for once, Rumplestiltskin found her bravery more off-putting than enticing. "But why the most powerful sorcerer in all the realms need to drink?"
"Perhaps I like to."
"A whole bottle?" Belle's lip curled up in disgust as she picked up the empty bottle. "Isn't that a little extreme?"
Rumplestiltskin reached out and snatched the bottle away from her. So what if it was empty? He certainly wasn't going to drown his sorrows by telling her how he'd let go of his beloved son, only to turn around and force a different parent to do the same thing centuries later. "I'm the Dark One, dearie. I live in extremes."
"I've noticed." Crossing her arms, she faced him fully, and the intense concern in her eyes took him aback. "And I don't…I don't understand you. How could someone so kind revel in so much darkness?"
She thinks me kind? "I'm not kind." The words came out automatically.
"But you can be. Sometimes you're very kind."
Rumplestiltskin didn't know what to say to that; he had to snap his mouth shut when it threatened to dangle open longer than necessary.
"But you're so miserable. You're not happy like this, even when you say you are." Belle stepped forward, putting a hand on his arm that Rumplestiltskin found himself staring at. She's touching me. Me? Fair maidens were not supposed to touch the terrible monster gently, yet here they were. Bringing his eyes up to meet Belle's took a supreme effort as she continued: "What happened to you? What could be so horrible that it would make you want to stay like this?"
Rumplestiltskin blinked at her owlishly, trying to wrap his mind around the words she'd said. She couldn't possibly care about him, or about the desperation that had led him to become the Dark One. It had to be a trick. A ploy to discover his weaknesses. There was no other explanation. She was just luring him into a dangerous complacency, that was all. He knew this trick, knew where it led.
"And why would you care?" he snapped, finally remembering to pull away from her warm touch. His arm felt cold where her hand had been, but Rumplestiltskin refused to let himself think about that. "You don't care about me!"
"You're my friend." She looked stricken, like he'd slapped her. Maybe you should, Nimue suggested. She's trying to use you, just like Cora. Preying on your foolish desire to be loved. But you know she could never love you!
Shut up!
"Employer, dearie. That's what I am," Rumplestiltskin spat, backing up a step—before lunging forward to invade her personal space. That always intimidated people. "And I've clearly been lax on that front, now, haven't I?"
"No, you haven't." Belle met him glare for glare, and not admiring her courage was a struggle. She doesn't care. They never do! "You can be downright beastly at times!"
"Well, I'm glad I'm living up to my reputation." The smile he gave her was sharp and reptilian, but Belle only shook her head sadly.
"Who hurt you so much that you can't believe someone can care about you?" she whispered.
My father. The town I grew up in. My wife. But he couldn't verbalize that. Rumplestiltskin wasn't going to sound weak, not in front of Belle or anyone else. He was the Dark One, and he was the most powerful sorcerer in all the realms. He'd worked for that title, too, learning and growing and becoming a more educated Dark One than any of his predecessors. Yet none of that erased the pain of having been abandoned, reviled, hated, and shunned. None of that changed what the gravedigger's boys had done to him when he was ten, or the way Hordor and the other guards had looked the other way when people had stolen the weak spinner's wares. Everyone had hated him. Everyone but my aunts, my boy, and my—
Belle continued hesitantly when he didn't answer, reaching for his arm again. "I know you didn't start out as the Dark One. You told me you were human, once."
"So?" Rumplestiltskin snarled the word, fury whipping through him. She asks too many questions, Zoso's words stabbed into his mind like a hot poker. She guesses too much. Who knows what books she's reading in that library you oh-so-foolishly gave her? Or who she's been talking to?
"I only mean to say—I mean, isn't it possible to go back? I don't think you like being like this, and if there was a way—"
"Who's been talking to you?" Rumplestiltskin felt cold as he made the demand. "Who put these ideas in your head?"
Nimue's question was more subtle—and more on point. Who turned her against you?
"No one!" Belle looked offended. "Do you think I can't think for myself?"
"If that's the case, I think you've been reading too much and thinking too much," he snapped. "Perhaps I should come up with more work for you to do. Or a dungeon for you to stay in!"
"You've already done that, and it didn't stop me thinking then." Hands on her hips, Belle glared at him, and damn it all if he didn't find her intoxicatingly beautiful.
Don't get distracted!
"Get out!" He bellowed the words because he didn't know what else to say; if he stared at her much longer, Rumplestiltskin feared he might try to kiss her. And she's no Cora. Belle may be kind, but she won't welcome advances from a hideous monster like me.
"I just want to understand." Blue eyes beseeched him to listen, but Rumplestiltskin had heard enough. "Please, Rumple. Let me help."
"I don't need your help. There's no going back from what I am. Push those girlish fantasies out of your mind, wherever they came from." He barely had a grip on his temper; the darkness boiling up inside him wanted to tear her to shreds. Yet a little corner of the man Rumplestiltskin had been refused to let that happen, particularly when Belle looked so devastated. "And even if there was, I wouldn't want one."
"Why not? You're too kind to want to be like this. I can see a better man in you, and—"
He stepped forward, leaning right into her face and summoning all the darkness and intimidation he had. "Get out!"
"I'm not afraid of you!"
"You should be!" Hit her. Hurt her. Grind her under your heel. Boil those ideas right out of her head. He couldn't tell which Dark One was speaking; the chorus urging him to hurt Belle was a cascade of multiple voices. Furious, Rumplestiltskin whirled to the nearby tea tray, grabbing the second closest cup, and flinging it in her general direction. Make her fear you.
He was careful not to hit her, of course. Or to grab his cup, which was already chipped and did not deserve to be broken. But the cup he'd chosen did make a satisfying crash as it shattered against the far wall, making Belle jump. Cut her. Make her bleed. Zoso was practically drooling on Rumplestiltskin's synapses, but he ignored him as Belle backed away a few steps.
"What is wrong with you?" she demanded.
"Get out." Grabbing another teacup, he turned slowly to face her, his voice deadly quiet, now. Pour burning tea on her face. See if she's sohelpful then, Nimue advised.
Shut up. Just shut up! He couldn't take the voices any longer; he was going to go mad if he didn't get away from her.
Or he was going to hurt her, and as angry as Rumplestiltskin was, he didn't want to do that.
"Fine. I will leave, but only because civilized people don't throw teacups at one another during a conversation." Belle spun on her heel, only pausing in the doorway to deliver a parting shot: "I'm not finished with you, Rumplestiltskin."
"Yes, you are, dearie!"
He didn't care if he sounded like a petulant child. Rumplestiltskin couldn't handle the strange compassion in her eyes, couldn't handle the way she said that she just wanted to help. The words didn't compute, and that made him angry, made the Dark Ones inside him broil with fear and fury. He wasn't lying; there was no way to go back from what he was, and even if there was, he wouldn't want to. He even threw another teacup at the door for good measure when Zoso started taunting him again, listening to its satisfying splat as Belle hurried down the stairs. She only wanted to figure out his weaknesses. In fact, Belle probably wanted to find a way to split him apart from his mother, because she was smart enough to figure out that Fiona was the only one he actually trusted. How could Belle say what she'd said? Rumplestiltskin had started to like her, and…and…
Kill the girl, and everything will go back to the way it was, Nimue advised him, but angry though he was, Rumplestiltskin couldn't quite listen to that.
He still refused to come out of the tower for the next two days out of spite.
A/N: Sorry for the slightly later in the day update than usual; work has been crazy busy!
Stay tuned for Chapter 11—"More Than They've Got Planned," in which Fiona tries to talk sense into Rumplestiltskin, Belle discovers a few uncomfortable truths, Rumplestiltskin has a bit of fun with Zelena, Fiona meets another fairy, and Rumplestiltskin gets up the gumption to apologize—sort of.
