Chapter Ten

Beautiful Distractions

"This is a powerful protection spell that will guard our hearts. Never will they be controlled again," Belle said. She unfolded a piece of stationery that had the hard-pressed handwriting of the wicked witch of the West, detailing a chant and instructions. She looked it over with Princess Merida. "It was not easy to get." Belle added. "I had to visit a wicked, mean old witch in her cell- and tell her every horrible thing that has happened to Rumpelstiltskin. Her former captive. So she could get off on hearing news of his suffering!"

Merida cracked her knuckles and rolled up her sleeves. "Chase the devil backwards if it works! So how do we start?"

Belle centered herself and focused. In time of great need, she could find it in herself to work spells. Rumpel had inspired her to do this when he had left for Neverland. She had channeled the magic of fairy dust in the mines to activate his spell to protect the town. Now, with thoughts of her own strength and safety, Belle ran her fingers over the freshly penned words of the spell and said the chant softly. Soon a golden glow warmed both women's hearts -they had a new confidence that no one would take their will away from them.

"Yer study of magic, it paid off!" Merida exclaimed, and playfully grasped and shook Belle's shoulder. "Now let me do something for you! There's a shooting range around here- I could hear it, from the woods. Let's go!"

"What? You want to go -shoot my gun?"

"We could both stand to learn that weapon, lass. And I'll teach you all there is to know about marksmanship!"

East Storybrooke was coming to life more and more, as people used what they found around them to bring in money from Storybrooke proper. Shops opened and industrial sounds were heard from the water treatment plant. Guinevere of Gwent glided down the boardwalk regally, seeing how she could help her people. Guinevere of Gwent missed Arthur of the broken kingdom of Camelot. He hadn't come home the previous night, or the night before that, and he hadn't been out with the boys, she'd discovered. He had to follow leads wherever they took him, sometimes quicker than he could discuss it with her… Guinevere walked along the one street of her new little town and waited. She saw him as the victor against any evil, the rightful inheritor of every treasure, a man who had pulled himself up by his bootstraps from poor repute. Above it all, he deserved her love. She didn't see him as the king who had bullied outlying tribes for tribute, or who hid from practical duties to obsess over esoterica he would never use, or the one who forgot most of her birthdays, their anniversaries and public holidays, being so wrapped up in his research. She remembered those things, but for some reason she just didn't see him that way. Maybe love was blind -and in her eyes, he could only be the excitable young man she fell for in her youth.

Less than a mile away, Arthur brooded in a dungeon under the Dark One's house. The very thing that blinded Guinevere would have to be traded away, since Dark Killian wanted his... contribution. Arthur had many treasures but only one magical item that could fix things for the Dark One- and he gripped it tightly. The shining glass canister had been hidden always, sewn to his undershirt. The Powdery sand within was from the fairy Isle of Avalon, often glimpsed but never reached from Camelot - spoken of but never clearly seen. It was a mystical place where Arthur wanted to be buried someday, if he could not land there while alive. And from its shores, only a very powerful person could have stolen this item.

"The Dark One traded away these Sands once, and to the Dark One I now trade them back," he said into the shadows. That brought Killian to his side.

Killian had been glaring at Mr Gold's shop from the street corner, brainstorming the most devastating way to end his enemy. The duel had not been as satisfying as he'd hoped. Emma had been leaning against a lamppost, asking him to put off all his ideas at least until Henry went off to college. Couldn't it wait? Couldn't you let Henry grow up without losing more family members?

Now Killian poofed away to his subterranean basement, to the sound of an offer being made to the Dark One, leaving his vision of Emma.

"What sands?" he asked Arthur.

Arthur narrowed his light blue eyes and sought Killian's. "You could have asked for them. As a friend. Instead you-"

Killian swiftly pried both his hands open and ripped the item away, tearing a hole in Arthur's sweaty undershirt. He examined the little glass cylinder with shifting pink sands inside. "Oh, you don't want me as a friend, you cod-livered yellow-bellied- where's the rest of it?" It was three-quarters full. No one would go get magical sands and not fill up the container!

"The Sands of Avalon." Arthur explained. "They fix... situations... they fix things by providing the illusion of wholeness. And… I used some… but you can have the rest of it! For my freedom -"

"For your freedom, I will have your silence!" Killian interrupted with a cocky air. "Tell -anyone- about what you saw, where you were, or who I am- and you'll regret it. I'll find out what you fixed with the Sands of Avalon… and I'll ruin it. Then I'll ruin you."

Arthur looked down and thought of Guin. The Sands' spell kept her under the illusion that he was just who she had fallen in love with, and their marriage was whole! It was such a fragile, beautiful illusion. Suddenly, with a strange grin, Killian transported him back home to her, as magic was the only way out of that dungeon.

Arthur figured it was only a matter of time before Killian would try to use and extort him again. Now, Arthur would spend every waking moment researching the Dark One. His weaknesses. Where the Dagger of Kris might be. How to end him- or control him- by getting it and Excalibur. After all, he wasn't just the fabled philosopher-king. He aspired to someday be the Sorcerer-King.

Captain Killian Jones stared at the vial and spat dismissively, "Kings!" If only Arthur had tried for Excalibur and left a big pile of ashes behind, he could have kicked it up into the air! And still he'd have found this little prize, the Sands of Avalon! Since the dreamcatchers of memories had been stolen, Arthur would soon be seen for the traitor he was back in Camelot- and somebody else would surely kill him.

Killian salivated over the broken Excalibur that lay waiting before him. No one was around and his Dark One demons were absent for the moment. It was his turn to try to grasp the handle. He dared to touch it - it burned his hand, but it did not make him burst into smoke and ash immediately! The pain was enough to wrench body from mind! The pain of combustion building within him- he let go the hilt with an exhilarated gasp. "A worthy sword!" he laughed. This treasure offered him the rush of mortality again!

A flash of a vision- Nimue's yellow-green eyes glaring at him. "Are you really ready... to snuff out all light?" Her voice echoed from somewhere in the house. "Even Henry?" she cackled, distantly.

Killian sang away the spooky voice, loudly, as he went upstairs to pour a drink. "Yo ho, yo ho, ah, to end me when I'm done, yo, ho, and a bottle of rum!"

Emma appeared in the kitchen, to help him drain a bottle. "What will you do with the Sands?" she asked, looking him up and down seductively from behind heavy, dark lashes. "You don't have to reforge Excalibur! With the Sands- you could give the world the illusion that all dark magic is gone! Only you and I would know- we could have the best of both worlds!"

"But how do I live in both worlds?" Killian asked.

He retreated up to his bedroom-should have been his and Emma's bedroom. His and hers closets. Two grand windows overlooking the backyard- and the ocean. How could he have the illusion of wholeness here? He looked in the full-length mirror at the gaunt, crazy person he'd become. His black mustache was growing out. His chest glimmered with scales, no longer just full of dull scars. Odd hooks of different sizes were poking up from his jacket's shoulder blades, curving upwards. His love appeared behind him- but she was not the Emma Swan he had fallen for in the Enchanted Forest. Clenching his eyes shut, he opened the lid of his little prize and blew softly across the opening. He wanted to open his eyes and see that scattering some sands had fixed everything for him! What he saw- was Emma! Red-jacketed, bouncy-haired, twinkling-eyed Emma! She was alive and whole in the mirror! And he was not there at all!

That is how things should be, Killian thought.

He still heard Dark Emma's low voice from the corner, and felt her intense eyes focused on him. "You shouldn't have activated the girl's memories. Now all they want is answers. And this version of me- can't give that to them."

"We'll see," he said, hearing the warm voice of Emma, the savior, come from his mouth.

Maleficent watched Arthur's home from the sky. He quickly stepped out this evening, looking around suspiciously as he went to a payphone in the corner of a lonely parking lot and picked up the receiver. Maleficent could hear him as well as the feet of squirrels on faraway trees- he was calling a Mr. Smee, asking weaselly questions, like how his Captain could be bribed, or bought, and how he liked his hookers… Maleficent figured it could be a long conversation. She circled higher above the clouds, and then nosedived towards the trees, off several yards from anyone's view. The great bowing of pine trees under the wind of her low flight was a signal to Will. The rough young man with a buzz cut came out from the woods to approach Arthur, first waiting patiently for the pay phone- and then, suddenly, punching his lower back and putting him in a headlock.

"This is for Lily, you sick bastard!" The Knave of Hearts exclaimed. The king of Camelot struggled against the chokehold. A great mass of wings and scales tumbled towards them out of the sky, transforming as she landed- the mother dragon. She looked determined and cruel in her sleek pantsuit and meticulously curled blonde hair, approaching them expressionless.

"You may have stopped me from doing you harm," Maleficent said to Arthur coolly, "but whatever magic you've used to hold me off- it doesn't apply to him."

Will Scarlet stomped on Arthur's foot and held him tight in the crook of his arm, so he would have to bow to Maleficent. "Best to ask her forgiveness, little bugger! In my experience Maleficent can be forgiving… but I'm not." Will thought back to a time when he had stolen an enchanted looking glass from Maleficent's castle- she could have come after him, but she didn't.

"You organized an attack on my daughter," Maleficent said. "You betrayed my friend, Regina… you betrayed everyone," the older woman went on. "And soon enough they'll all remember. So why should we let you live? Hmm? ...Regina said you might have something useful to us…"

Arthur fought. Will threw an uppercut into his gut and cast him down on the pavement, ripping the light chain off his neck as he fell. He had the keys to the royal treasure chest, and, because he had followed Arthur that day that he had foolishly shown it off, Will knew where it was.

"What do you want?" Arthur panted.

"I'll know it when I see it- I'm kind of an expert on finding exotic mushrooms," Will bragged to Maleficent.

"No- the mushroom -to find Merlin?" Arthur spat. "Don't bother with the Sorcerer! He tricks! He- he-"

"I know." Will shrugged. "He fucked with your parents. Let you grow up an orphaned bastard. I know. I read your literature." He leaned over Arthur and whispered harshly, "Doesn't make me feel sorry for ya."

With a softer whisper, he told the sorceress the location of the chest. She knew the place- conjured it up in her mind's eye and then brought the chest forth into her hands, with magic. Will unlocked it and pulled out a dense red and white bell mushroom that looked like it had been picked just a couple weeks ago.

"The Crimson Crown," Maleficent said with awe. A very elusive ingredient for a spell that would let them communicate across magical boundaries. With this, she could find Merlin, and finally ask him to arrange for her happy ending. Either getting her daughter back- or, at this point, just getting revenge. She narrowed her eyes at Arthur. "This had better help me deal with the one responsible for Lily's death. Otherwise… you will have to do." Her long black nails turned into mighty claws that gripped the mushroom- as a dragon, she took to the skies, leaving Will with the wooden chest.

She sensed something magical was changing the towns below. She flew higher than the winding spell could reach.

Before Will could do any more to his enemy on the ground, the wind blew dust and sand in his eyes. It was a strange wind, sweeping across all the land, carrying special sands… Arthur saw a familiar stupefied look cross Will's face. "Don't just lie there-your majesty," Will said in a much more jovial tone than he'd ever heard- and the young man took off with the treasure.

Snow White and David were deep into a discussion over their recovered memories from Camelot, when their counselor, Archie, stopped by to check on them. His house calls to all those recovering from yet another bout of amnesia were going surprisingly smoothly- everyone seemed well adjusted already. On his leather shoes and coattails he carried and spread the subtle swirling sands that blew on the dusty wind. The sands that found their victim's eyes and made them simply move on from the puzzle of recent events.

Belle Gold blinked away sands that blew in from the open window. She had come back to the house after an exhausting afternoon at the gun range with Merida—Merida insisted on going back to stay in the woods, but Belle needed her own space to unwind.

She paced and ran her fingers through her thick brown hair that she hadn't washed for days. It was hard to pack up all she might need from the Gold estate, not knowing how long she and Rumpel would continue their separation. She couldn't stay here and live like the whole place was hers, as she had during his banishment. He'd want to stop camping out in the back of his shop at some point, he'd want to come back, at last, to his comfortable home... and be among his things... He would find the kitchen, parlor, bathrooms and library neat and fresh, but the rest of the house shut up, dusty and stale. Among the places she'd stayed in Storybrooke there was Rumpelstiltskin's cabin in the woods- she didn't want to go there because of all the questions that it would bring up about all the things that had happened there... when Rumpelstiltskin, Cruella, Maleficent and Ursula had holed up there. She'd heard that they had tortured Pinocchio and the Author, done terrible things. She didn't want to go back to her caretaker's apartment in the library because Rumpel certainly had a copy of the key. She knew he was no real threat now without his magic, and with his limp again- it would be hard for him to get up the steep stairs to the small apartment. That didn't shake her uneasiness; she knew it wasn't a real separation if he could actually stop over any time. Belle stopped pacing and shouldered her overstuffed purse. She picked up her suitcase. She'd check in at Granny's B & B again. She would shake off her ties to Rumpel, her misgivings about Rumpel, and just go to the town fair this evening. At last she knew Rumpel would be fine, so she could just go out... like a somewhat single person again. She laced up her sneakers, with her blue argyle heels ready for a quick change in her bag, and headed out.

Mr. Gold had been hiding in his shop, struggling to distill magic from objects imbued with it. He'd looked up wistfully each day when Belle would pass his storefront window, going from the library to Granny's or towards the woods for a hike. She was smart to move out of his house and avoid him. She was smart to try to protect herself from him, just in case his renewed, blank heart didn't stay that way. He looked back upon past relationships with regret, regret he hadn't indulged as the Dark One.

He had held Milah's heart in his hand and crushed it, rather than let bygones be bygones... He had caused Cora's death—that is, caused Snow White to trick her stepmother into killing her mother...

The unselfish thing to do, when he last confronted his first wife, would have been to keep his deal with Milah. He could have fairly traded that coveted old magic bean for her safe passage off into the sunset with her lover. The unselfish thing to do, the day that Cora died, would have been to speed along his own death by poison before Cora arrived to take his place as the Dark One. That was one of the few rare times that the cycle of Dark Ones could have ended. The power would have been gone from the world; Cora would still be alive and evenly matched with Emma; all at the small price of Rumpelstiltskin's life. …

He saw a pattern in his life, and wondered how he'd managed to hold off from killing the third woman he'd dared to love, Belle. There were those times when she repeatedly threatened to leave, demanded things of him using the dagger... He had managed to figuratively hold her heart with gentleness, rather than physically grab her heart and roughly punish it as Nimue and the others urged, at the back of his mind... Rumpelstiltskin truly wanted the best for Belle. Time and again that meant that they should be apart. Now as he spun the old spinning wheel next to his basket of magical antiques, he desperately willed just enough magic to protect a nonmagical person from the Dark One. He hoped Belle would accept any protection he could offer her. She was so stubbornly independent now- and knowing that tempted him to just try to hide himself from the coming storm.

"Self preservation is your nasty habit." The words from Belle's mouth haunted him, though it was just a vision of Belle that had told him that, back in Neverland.

Mr. Gold glanced over the glass cases, shelves, and the hat racks bearing various antiques in his shop. They didn't glimmer with magic and meaning, as they had when magic swirled about his soul and buzzed beneath his skin. Now his memories about each object were dimmer. He opened up his filing system now that it was more of an effort to recall the story about each item for sale, which made them worth the inflated prices. Hundreds of little cards- he came across one with Belle's handwriting and remembered she had helped him update the inventory during their brief, shoddy excuse for a honeymoon. While she had found them an exciting, romantic getaway for their honeymoon, he had found work for her to do. He shuddered with regret, just as he started to justify himself in his mind, and excuse those days of filing inventory cards as a way to… let his new wife in on some of his secrets and allow her to tend the shop just as well as he could.

Then a harsh memory came back to him. When he was the Dark One- and she was his maid- they had been riding in a carriage to the Sherwood Forest and he had leaned towards her as he said, "There is something I love more than power... MY THINGS!" His shrill exclamation, loud enough to hurt her ears- it rang in his ears now in the lonely pawnshop full of THINGS. None of the magical items drew him in, like they used to.

He had failed so terribly to put any effort into their marriage. Memories were left, full of pain that the Darkness had shielded him from. Over there- the corner where he had slouched, having a heart attack, losing his sense of self to the Darkness. Right across the aisle of display cases- that was where he and Belle had sat on the floor in tears, after returning to this world from the Heroes and Villains story-world. "You could have had a good life, a good marriage-for real!" Belle had cried.

Mr. Gold tried to focus on something positive. Money. Money could protect him from his many enemies in this town, if not the new Dark One. He opened the cash register- empty. Surely the cash had been moved to one of the safes?

Belle had tended the store last- she must have found it more profitable than working at the library, and she had to look out for herself after- banishing him. Mr. Gold gritted his teeth at the thought of Belle making sales here during their separation, while having a fling with a bug-eyed young man who was new in town. He pictured her carelessly accepting low offers on items while distracted by flirting with Will. Still, he knew that her heart wasn't in it- literally.

At the tall black safe- the combination lock was colder to the touch than anything had been when he had magic- he found stacks of bills and canisters of coins. Counting them, there was less- how many months had it been, that he was banished, in hiding, suffering heart trouble, and then in a coma? There should be more just from rent money, he thought, and- wasn't his wife smart enough to keep collecting rent all that time and secure her financial future?

He rolled his eyes with the realization that Belle was just too honest to make money the way he did, with late fees and payment method fees and suits over property damage... and then she was gone to Camelot for two months, so of course there was less... He stood up with a sigh, stopped himself from complaining under his breath. Of course she was not callous and materialistic. He and Belle would never have shared the love they did, if she were that way...

The bell sounded- Maleficent walked in. "Strange to see you here... without magic," she said. "Even stranger than Ursula had once described! She said that it was pitiful, how you turned up at her doorstep in New York, needing a place to stay, sick and dying! Couldn't and wouldn't get a job... even in desperate times, you were just as arrogant as always, thinking you could call the shots..."

"I had a plan then. And that plan, the book about heroes and villains, didn't work out... because of Henry, my grandson... Whenever I have a plan, it doesn't matter. Henry and Emma would always be fighting it, they'd find some way to undo it..." Rumpelstiltskin said.

Maleficent grew nervous at Mr. Gold's frantic polishing and packing of items, and the very real fear in his voice, his nervous movements... "Now... you don't have a plan, do you? For once…"

Mr. Gold stared off into the distance. "You just train your powers. You'll need to be able to defend yourself against a new Dark One. I may be able to derive enough magic- from these magical items -to protect myself at least for a while."

"Yes –yes, you're right! The Dark One is still out there- and still a threat! I don't know what's gotten into people- I didn't work any sleeping spell but just now the 'heroes' are acting like they're asleep!"

Maleficent was disturbed by her experience earlier in the evening, of bringing a valuable spell ingredient to Regina and being ignored. Regina and her family were involved in the details of a town fair, a display of their benevolence and ability to protect the town from any darkness. They were going to let their official silence confirm the rumors floating around, that Captain Hook was the new Dark One. But they seemed utterly unconcerned about finding the missing information about what happened in Camelot. With the Crimson Crown, they could communicate with Merlin wherever he was and in whatever form he was hiding- because no dream catcher yet had the answer to how Emma Swan had died, who cast the Dark Curse, or whether it had brought Merlin along with it to East Storybrooke. Maleficent pushed for this, but everyone among the heroes let their eyes gloss over at the mention of it!

"Now. It's time to wake the people up, now! Otherwise, Rumpelstiltskin- it's on you and me to fight Hook!" Maleficent resolved, "We've got to fight the Dark One somehow- corner him and imprison him! I haven't been able to find him lately, searching from the skies -but perhaps if you break out your old crystal ball?"

"No, no, no," Rumpelstiltskin said, "he'll find me. I don't have to go looking for him. A couple days ago he used me-to pull Excalibur from a stone! Surely he will use me or try to kill me again."

"You? You pulled Excalibur from a stone? Rumpelstiltskin that means- that means that you are the rightful leader of this land now! It's time to step up and lead!" She got right in front of him and tried to hold his gaze. He seemed so unsure. His hair was greasy, his brow was sweaty, as he fumbled with his things nervously.

"No... no, I'm not a leader. If anyone expects me to be powerful- well, I am, at best, someone resourceful. But I'm powerless against the pirate! The thief!" His jaw clenched as he went on, "The murderer, the one who broke up my family, took my wife, tried to kill the girl I met and fell in love with, and then took away the love that my son had—Emma. Because Emma was his first love…"

Maleficent sadly added, "The Dark Captain destroyed my family as well, because Lily was my whole family... If we can just get that dagger, then you can kill him at last... and then you'll have the power to be the leader of this land, if that is what is meant by-"

Rumpelstiltskin whispered, "No, no as much as I want to kill him-" he shuddered- "I won't become the Dark One again! You mustn't assume that you are safer with me as the Dark One, rather than him! I know that I may be safer that way -but I won't, I can't take that on again..." He shook his head vehemently and sat down on a stool.

"Pitiful!" Maleficent said, with contempt. She started to walk away, then said with a sideways look, "You know- there is a young lady who came to me today. Tough girl. She wants my help digging through the histories in the Sorcerer's Mansion... She also said she knew how to properly-motivate you!"

Maleficent left, with a little smile, slamming the front door.

It was sunny and breezy out. Main Street was being blocked off, folding tables and tents were going up, and the nuns were raising a banner up over the street that said 'Story Daze.'

"Fairies," Maleficent grumbled dismissively, then put on the fedora that matched her black pinstripe pantsuit and walked off down a side street as quickly as she could, away from the tired old booths and decorations reused from the Miners Day festivals. It was all just bread and circus to distract the people from real problems.

She heard a young man approach a young lady, and scoffed at her own memories of such gestures. She took to the skies as soon as she'd found space to transform.

"Violet! Do you want to go to the carnival with me tonight? As friends. Or, whatever you'd like..."

"I can't, I'm so sorry Henry, I just can't think about it right now," she answered. "Nicodemus ran off! And I've got to find him! He doesn't know this place, and- what if he crosses the magical boundary at the edge of town?"

The young lady in riding boots and a lavender capelet hurried off towards the park. Henry was about to jog alongside her and try to help, when he felt a chilling presence behind him.

"Hey kid!" said an eerily familiar voice. He turned and saw his mother driving up in her VW bug, parking on the street, getting out- she looked just like she had when she first came to Storybrooke! Henry lost his balance-almost fell backwards!

"Mom! You're - but you're dead!?"

She smirked and raised an eyebrow. "How's your friend? Do you two want a ride somewhere…?"

He rubbed his eyes, ran his hands over his face- but she wasn't a figment of his imagination. After a moment, she shrugged and pursed her lips, and got in the car again. The nuns had all stopped setting up the fair to stare at her in disbelief. Henry looked around, dry mouthed, then ran to get in the passenger seat. He wasn't about to let the ghost get away!

"How? How are you here?" he asked.

"Where to? I'll explain on the way!" Emma said, with her typical guardedness. Beneath the happy, womanly exterior was a grizzled, sweating man stuck in his 30's, nervous about acting the part exactly. He listened closely to the instructions of his counterpart, Emma the Dark One, as he moved his foot from clutch to gas. He still couldn't drive stick as well as her-but Henry wasn't paying attention to that at the moment. The car drove down Main Street with "Black Magic Woman" playing on the radio, off to country roads where they could look for Henry's friend's horse together. The Dark One had no intention of explaining anything along the way. As they drove with the windows down, dust cascaded in the low sunlight- a dust so fine as to not be seen. It floated off her long blonde curls and all across town.