Author's notes: After watching 6.02, I'm in need of stronger brain-bleach. In lieu of that, I'm just gonna ramble off into my own madness and throw some adventures at Belle and Rumple. Less of the relationship wangst. This is how I envision the spinoff "Once Upon a Time in China" — wait, that was a Jet Li movie. Never mind!
From the moment he stepped through the portal, Rumplestiltskin knew that something was wrong. It manifested first as a half-heard note vibrating in the back of his mind. Then the sound was lost in the storm that overtook them and separated him from Belle. For what felt like an eternity, he battered uselessly against the wind, his magic finding no purchase and no direction amidst the chaos.
Then another power hit him, hostile and angry. He blinked automatically out of existence, but the other followed him as his feet landed on solid earth again. He had an impression of a hillside meadow before he had to focus on his enemy, who had just launched something flying in a wide arc around Rumplestiltskin. A hat. A wide-brimmed straw hat with a gauzy veil hanging from the edges.
He could see why the snarling creature before him had chosen to hide its visage: it was a monstrous humanoid with the head of an ugly, hairless dog. Its red-tinted skin was pocked and pebbly over misshapen, lumpy flesh. Its eyes were a malevolent silver with slitted black pupils. Glittering layers of loose cloth (red and black giving the impression of flames and charcoal) couldn't hide its inhuman proportions as it lunged forward and swiped ivory claws at Rumplestiltskin's face.
He leaped back, summoning power to knock his attacker back, but magic tasted different here. It was taking too long to adjust. He couldn't afford to split his attention because the hat was already spinning back towards him. He ducked just in time, his hair whipped up by the force of its passage. It was clearly a magical weapon of some sort, imbued with dark energy.
The demon took advantage of the distraction to seize the other end of the wand in Rumplestiltskin's hand. The latter tightened his fingers; if he lost the wand, they might never find their way back to Storybrooke. Even as he formed the thought, the demon sent a massive surge of dark magic into the wand.
The wand exploded.
Shocked, Rumplestiltskin staggered back. He had never, ever expected someone to so casually obliterate something as precious as the Apprentice's Wand. Before he could muster a counterattack, the demon whirled and vanished in a streak of crimson light, hat and all.
"Lifeless Loner Xu Tiande!" The shout came from some distance behind him. "You think we're playing baseball? Switching in a pinch hitter when the going gets tough — shameless and despicable!"
Rumplestiltskin whipped around to see a man dashing across the meadow towards him, shedding strips of shredded paper around him like confetti. Two steps later, a familiar figure fell out of the sky and knocked the man to the ground.
"Belle!" Confused and alarmed in equal measure, Rumplestiltskin drew even more deeply upon the reservoir of darkness he held. It came with a flurry of spiteful voices urging him to kill this new threat before it could... He ignored the voices and settled for a wave of force that knocked the stranger well clear. Belle wasn't moving. She wasn't moving. He broke into a run towards her slumped form. "Belle!"
Before he could reach her, the stranger had tumbled back to his feet, hands raised with the palms out, shouting something as he sent a magical blast back at Rumplestiltskin. Rumplestiltskin shielded himself hastily, the force sparking off his wards in a haze of golden light. Light magic.
The stranger closed in, circling and studying Rumplestiltskin with wary, half-mad eyes. He was a short, scrawny man with a mobile, expressive face. He wore a ragged blue shirt covered with patches and a pair of plain trousers just as dirty and dilapidated as the shirt. A cloth hat displaying the kanji for "Buddha" capped a head of black hair that straggled down to his shoulders. A string of large wooden prayer beads hung around his neck. He gestured with a broken-down cat-tail fan at Rumplestiltskin. "So who are you? Are you human or demon?"
"Try me and find out," Rumplestiltskin growled, not in the mood for a fight, but bracing himself nevertheless. He was beginning to grasp the flow of magic here. He threw a paralysis at the stranger. He just needed a moment to see to Belle, and then—
The stranger easily shook off the spell. "Amitabha! So you know a few tricks." He grinned, looking Rumple up and down. "Judging by your appearance, the Calligrapher is recruiting far afield. Looks like the local demons aren't being taken in by his lies anymore."
"I have no idea what you're talking about." Rumplestiltskin maneuvered himself to stand between the stranger and Belle. He risked a quick glance down at her. She was stirring at last. When the stranger showed no signs of attacking, Rumplestiltskin bent down to help Belle to her feet. "You all right, sweetheart?"
"Just had the breath knocked out of me," she said, leaning against his side. She smiled at the stranger. "Sorry for falling on you like that. It was an accident. Um, I'm Belle."
"I'm called Dao-Ji," said the stranger, pronouncing the name with equal emphasis on both syllables. He eyed Rumplestiltskin and Belle dubiously, dancing around them erratically. He had the air of a clown. Or a lunatic. "You two... are together?"
Rumplestiltskin drew closer to Belle at Dao-Ji's challenging tone. "Well, she's not with you, is she."
Dao-Ji averted his eyes behind his tattered fan with an exaggerated show of embarassment at the public display of affection. "What are you doing with her? She's light, you're dark. She's human, you're immortal. You have no future together."
"I decide my own future, thank you very much," said Belle.
At that, Dao-Ji threw up his hands dramatically and spluttered, "The world is littered with besotted fools. Nothing ever gives me a bigger headache. Why won't you ever listen to sense?"
"Not from some mad wizard," muttered Belle. She glanced at Rumplestiltskin. "You know, he reminds me a bit of you, Rumple, the way you were in the Enchanted Forest."
Rumple shot her a wounded look. "Me?"
"Amitabha! I'm a monk, not a wizard," said Dao-Ji, pressing his palms together and bowing with mock humility.
"But I see you don't dispute the 'mad'," noted Rumplestiltskin. "Also, I recall being more attentive to my personal hygiene, even in my leather-wearing days. Whereas standing downwind of you is something of an ordeal."
"I bathed twice this year already!" Dao-Ji made a show of sniffing his own armpits, then shrugged. He stuck his fan over his shoulder, securing it under a strap. He then held up his left hand and frowned at it while he made some mental calculation on his fingers. Rumple sensed a surge of magic, but he wasn't familiar with the spell. The monk's gaze focused again, darting between Belle and Rumplestiltskin. He winced at whatever he saw. "Amitabha..."
"What's wrong?" Despite her brave words, Belle seemed unnerved by the monk's deranged manner, and clung to Rumple.
Rumplestiltskin gave her a reassuring squeeze. "Spare us the theatrics." He was well familiar with the technique, having used it to annoy countless clients back in his Enchanted Forest days. It had the dual advantage of keeping his enemies off balance while providing cover for those momentary lapses of control when the darkness overwhelmed his sanity. He wouldn't be surprised if the monk suffered from a similar condition: magic always came with a price, whether it was light or dark.
Dao-Ji stared at Belle, suddenly serious. "Your husband is under a curse, and not the one you think. He was born under a villain's star; no deed of his will go unpunished."
Rumplestiltskin scoffed in exasperation. "Belle, don't listen to him. Astrology is notoriously unreliable."
"Listen or don't listen, it's up to you." The monk cupped a hand around his ear and canted his head to one side. "But do you hear that?"
"What?" Belle glanced around in bewilderment, but Rumple didn't bother to look. His senses detected no one else present.
"I can hear... I can hear..." Dao-Ji dragged out the syllables deliberately. Rumple suppressed an urge to smack him. Finally, the monk concluded, "I can hear your mother calling you home for supper!" Then he twirled on his toes and vanished.
Rumplestiltskin frowned at the space where he had been, then turned to Belle. "Hmm."
"What was that all about?"
"A warning. Or possibly a deal," decided Rumplestiltskin. "It's called giving us enough rope to hang ourselves. He's leaving us alone for now."
Belle surveyed their surroundings. They stood in a gently sloping meadow at the bottom of a landslide-scarred mountainside. Rugged wilderness surrounded them. Far in the distant lowlands, however, they could see the straight lines and right angles of roads, fields, and villages. "Where are we? Is this the eastern empire that Mulan comes from?"
Rumplestiltskin shook his head. "No. Though they seem to share a language, this is a different realm. Farther from the Enchanted Forest than I've ever been. It's more... colorful."
"Can you get us back?"
"No. The wand was destroyed."
"Destroyed!"
"I'll find another way." Rumplestiltskin retraced the monk's path backwards, peering at the ground. He picked a scrap of paper out of the grass and studied it with all his senses. He detected a lingering aura of magic, but couldn't identify the spell.
"What is that?" Belle joined him, then leaned down to search the ground herself. "Look, there's more bits of paper. I can't make out the writing. Is it a spell?"
"Dark magic," said Rumplestiltskin. He placed the paper in a tiny glass jar and pocketed it. He kept a supply of magically protected containers in his personal extradimensional storage closet for just such occasions. "We'll have to tread carefully here. Something was powerful enough to intercept my portal and drag us to this realm."
"It doesn't seem that bad," said Belle, looking down into the valley. Her natural curiosity had emerged again.
Rumple hid a smile. She had always wanted to see the world, hadn't she? Well, this world was new to both of them. "Since we're here..."
"We may as well take a look around," finished Belle. She took Rumple by the arm. "Can't we, Rumple?"
He nodded. "Of course." He glanced up at the sky. "A good day for a walk, wouldn't you say?" By the foliage on the trees and the angle of the sun, he guessed it to be early summer. Up here on the mountain, the air still held a chilly bite, but the lowlands would be warm. "We can go to one of those villages, find someplace to stay until we get our bearings. Inns are found in most realms!"
An hour later, the novelty of enjoying a pleasant hike with his wife had worn off into the tedium of trudging through a seemingly endless expanse of forest. At least he had two good legs at the moment — the uneven ground was difficult enough to cope with as it was. Walking was so slow, but teleportation was too risky when he didn't know where he was.
"So, um, you were going to teach me light magic," said Belle.
"Yes," said Rumple, latching onto the reminder eagerly. Probably she was as bored as he was with the walking. "You've read about it, of course."
"I have, but books mostly assume that you already have magic, or else they're technical treatises on the theory of light magic," said Belle. "No one seems to have published a 'Light Magic for Dummies' for some reason."
Rumplestiltskin chuckled. "Ah, yes. Despite your admirable devotion to the written word, much of magic continues to be transmitted the traditional way from teacher to student. Oaths of secrecy aren't uncommon."
"Really? Regina never seemed to worry about anything like that."
"That's because I never bothered with the formalities. Dark magic is selfish: the practitioners tend not to appreciate rivals."
"But light magic is different?"
Rumple shrugged. "Light magic has its own reasons for secrecy. Strictures about being worthy and the corrupting nature of any power and so on."
"I see." They continued on for awhile before Belle spoke again. "So, even though I wasn't born magical, I can still learn it? Without having to kill anyone, I mean."
"Oh yes," said Rumple. "It's possible to cultivate it within yourself, gathering magic from natural sources."
"What natural sources?"
"For light magic, that would be the sun in its aspect as lifegiver. It is, however, a long and arduous process." He glanced over at Belle and touched her cheek. "And considering your complexion, it would involve a painful amount of sunburn."
"Sunburn!"
"Magic always comes with a price, dear." He smirked, then dropped his hand. "But there are shortcuts. I could give you a head start."
"What kind of head start?" Belle gave him a suspicious look. "If this is some trick of dark magic—"
"No, no. It's not." Rumple sighed to himself. She still had trust issues. When would he be clear of the debt incurred by his lies? Not today, but he hoped to make some progress. "You could think of it as me returning what you gave to me in the first place."
"What do you mean?"
He touched his chest. "What there is left of light inside my heart, well, you put it there." After Bae had died, Rumplestiltskin had nothing left to love in this life except for Belle. Even his grandson had been tangled up with the seer's prophecy that he would be Rumplestiltskin's undoing, thus muddling the Dark One's emotions into an unhappy brew of fear and love. "That is what enables me to work a modicum of light magic along with the dark."
He explained the method that he could use to split off that magic and share it with her. "Think of the way that Snow White and Prince Charming share a single heart."
Eventually, Belle was reassured enough to assent to his offer.
"Here, let's rest for a bit, first." He took off his jacket and brushed off a boulder for Belle to sit on, leaving the folded jacket as a cushion for her. The damned suit was ruined, anyway, after a few miles of scrambling through bushes and over rocks.
Belle nodded. She, too, was looking a little frayed and sticky from the hike. "Thanks."
After a few minutes, Rumple moved to stand in front of Belle, lightly touching her chest. "Put your hand over my heart, like so." He guided her arm.
Belle gave him a strange look. "Didn't we do this before? That 'pirate's oath' you made me swear?"
Rumple averted his eyes, wincing at the memory. He had glamoured himself to look like Killian Jones at the time, in order to get close to Belle and trick her into returning his dagger. A simple divination had suggested the form he should take, but he had still been shocked and hurt at her gullibility and willingness to hand control of him over to his enemy. "Yes, well, I'm sorry about that."
"So am I," Belle confessed. "I was afraid, I suppose. I knew you were clever enough to get back into Storybrooke, and I was afraid of what you might do."
"Are you still afraid? We don't have to do this. It's your choice."
"It won't harm the baby?"
"No. If anything, it will help protect you both," said Rumple.
Belle nodded. "Let's do it."
It didn't take long, once he had cleared his mind and focused on the strand of love that stubbornly bound them together. After he was done, he took a step back and examined her. "How do you feel?"
"Not that different. A little hungry."
"I'll see what we can do about that. Come on. We still have a trek ahead of us." As they walked on, Rumple taught Belle basic magical exercises and energy cultivation techniques to build on what he had transmitted to her. When they came to a mountain stream, he showed her the spell for purifying water. "Turning it into tea is more challenging. We can do that next week."
Further on, he found a cluster of edible fungus growing on the side of a dead tree. He broke off a clump and presented it to Belle. "Ah, what we used to call 'wooden chickens' in the old days."
She wrinkled her nose dubiously at the brown lobes. "You used to eat fungus?"
"Foraging was something of a necessity when money was tight. If we had access to a kitchen, I'd show you the traditional way to prepare it, but as it is..." He waved a hand over the fungus, then handed a piece to Belle.
She took a tentative nibble, then raised her eyebrows. "It's good!"
The two of them shared the rest, Rumple going back to collect more when Belle was still hungry. After that, they continued walking. Many hours later, they emerged from the woods into the edge of the inhabited lands. Terraced fields followed the contours of the hills, interspersed with small huts and animal pens.
After seeing a few of the locals working the fields, Rumplestiltskin conjured a change of clothing for himself and Belle. "Let's not draw too much attention to ourselves."
Belle nodded, looking too exhausted and footsore to say much.
Thankfully, it wasn't much farther before they reached a bustling town, big enough to support two inns. Rumplestiltskin picked the one that looked cleaner, and paid for a room with a handful of silver chunks that had once been his cufflinks. He left Belle to rest while he made arrangements for food to be brought to them.
"It's not what I expected." Belle tried not to drop anything as she used the chopsticks to transfer bits of food from the serving plates into her bowl. "This isn't anything like what they have at the Chinese restaurant in Storybrooke. There's hardly any meat."
"Meat is probably more expensive here than in Maine," said Rumple. "And they were cooking with American ingredients, to American tastes, in Storybrooke. Naturally it would be different."
Belle was yawning halfway through supper and barely made it to bed before falling fast asleep. Not how he had intended to start their world tour, thought Rumple ruefully. He lay down carefully next to her and closed his eyes. As a Dark One, he technically didn't require sleep, but he wasn't used to so much walking, either, and he was nearly as tired as she was.
He woke up the next morning before Belle, as usual. A touch of magic eased his aching muscles as he got up and dressed himself. Belle remained soundly asleep. Rumple was sorry to wake her, but he didn't want to leave without telling her.
"Belle, sweetheart. I'm going out for a bit, to look around and collect some supplies." He stared into her eyes to make sure she understood, then kissed her gently on the forehead. "Go back to sleep. You're safe here. I shouldn't be long."
Moments later, he transported himself back into the forest. He didn't have his potion brewing apparatus here, but he could still collect the ingredients. Some things he could make with just a pot of water and a heat source. He had mentally noted the relevant locations the day before as they passed by, not saying anything at the time. He hadn't wanted to have Belle fretting about what spells he might be preparing.
Keeping secrets again? he chided himself. No. He had promised to be honest with her. He would explain everything when he returned. Strangers in a strange land, they needed all the advantages they could get. A few potions, poisons, and antidotes could go a long way.
Why bother? She'll only leave you again, no matter what you tell her, came the sneering voice inside his head. Kill her now, before anyone else tries to use her or turn her against you. That's the only way you'll be safe.
He ignored the voice and concentrated on harvesting the fairy-touched lichen growing on the rock in front of him. The darkness persisted, gibbering in the back of his head, offering instructions on how to turn the lichen into various lethal and nonlethal concoctions, all of which he already knew. He ignored the voice so successfully that it took him some time before he noticed when it changed its tone.
Listen! Listen, you fool. Someone is crying. Someone WANTS something.
Rumplestiltskin froze. Out here? This far up the mountain, this deep into the forest? Beyond a few hunters, he hadn't seen any traces of human presence. Even the bandits stayed closer to the roads where they found their victims. Yet he felt an unmistakable sense of someone in need. Where there was need, there was a potential deal to be struck — that was the Dark One's gift, the ability to sniff out the desires hidden in every heart.
Curious, he headed towards that vague sense of need. As he drew closer, he had the impression of someone young, someone afraid. Someone lost? The cries he heard in his head gradually merged into the sound of a child wailing in distress. It wasn't loud, but it was enough for Rumplestiltskin to pinpoint the distance and direction. A wave of his hand later, he was there.
A boy. A boy trapped under a massive limb fallen from a dead tree. It was a miracle he hadn't been instantly crushed. As it was, he was pinned to the ground, only part of his face and one arm visible through the branches. He looked no more than seven or eight years old. Then as Rumple approached and got a closer look, he amended his guess to a chronically undernourished ten. A bundle of sticks lay half-scattered by the fallen wood: the boy must have been sent out to gather brush. But this was too deep into the forest. He shouldn't be here.
Rumplestiltskin checked for signs of magic. Nothing. The place was clean. Too clean, he suspected. Any natural location generated its own tiny patterns of enchantment. This was too smooth. So. Someone or something had brought this boy here and then wiped its own tracks.
"Help!" The boy had finally noticed Rumplestiltskin's presence. The slender branching tips of the fallen limb trembled as the child struggled to free himself, but his effort was futile. "Help! Please, sir, I want to go home."
Rumplestiltskin walked towards the fallen limb — it looked like a third of the tree had sheared off — as close as he could without touching it, then crouched down to peer through the branches at the boy. "Who are you? Where do you live?"
"I'm... I'm called Ah-Ping. I live... live in the Xia-family Village," stammered the boy, staring back at Rumple through tear-filled eyes.
"A long way from here," said Rumple, the names settling into his mind with a glimmering of their attached meaning that he drew from the boy's thoughts.
"Please, sir, please help me," the boy begged. "I can't get out."
Rumplestiltskin considered. An obvious trap, but for whom, and why? For him? Who would know to set a trap for him? The same person who had interfered with his portal? The wisest course would be to walk away now. He straightened, preparing to do just that.
"Please! Don't leave me here!" The boy's cries grew more frantic.
The boy. Ah-Ping. This might be a trap, but the boy was real. Rumplestiltskin stood with his back to the trap, closing his eyes, trying not to think about that. There was no way for the boy to break free before he died. A quick end if a predator found him, a slow one by dehydration if not. If Rumplestiltskin left, it was unlikely that anyone else would chance upon the boy, not when he had been displaced this far into the wilderness. Unlikely, but it wasn't impossible that a hunter might rescue Ah-Ping. That hypothetical hunter might then die when the trap was triggered, but that was nothing to do with Rumplestiltskin. People died all the time, didn't they? He couldn't save them all.
He took a step away, then another.
The boy's desperate voice followed him. Ah-Ping must know, too, that he was doomed.
Rumplestiltskin hesitated. What would Belle say when he told her that he had abandoned a child to die alone? So what if it was a trap? He was certainly more powerful than this Ah-Ping. He had a better chance of surviving, trap or not. The boy was an innocent. Rumplestiltskin could taste it in his name, had seen it in his face. So be it.
Afraid that he might change his mind again, Rumplestiltskin whirled around and strode back to the trapped boy. He reached in through the branches and grasped the single protruding hand. A wish, a thought, and a surge of magic sent Ah-Ping back to the Xia-family Village.
The deal was struck. By the laws of magic, Rumplestiltskin had freely exchanged himself for the boy, and the trap was sprung. The spell that had previously been hidden in a state of quantum uncertainty was now summoned into full existence. Supernatural force exploded all around him, reshaping the fallen branches into the bars of a wooden cage, with him inside it. He charged outward in an attempt to outrace the spell, but in vain. The wood repelled him with fiery heat. His magic slid off it uselessly. Caged! Again. Panic slid up his throat and he bit back a scream. His heart pounded in terror.
No. He forced himself to breathe, deep even breaths. He still had his dagger. The cage meant nothing as long as he controlled his own choices. He had chosen to put his head in the noose. He could get himself out again, or what was all his power for?
He dredged up every spell he could think of, threw every trick he knew at the cage. Its solidity was unassailable, at least from the inside. It held him in, blinding his magical senses to everything outside. After his initial assaults, he sat down to think. There must be a loophole. There was always a loophole. If nothing else, whoever had set the trap would come to collect their prisoner.
He thought despairingly of Belle. If only he had brought her with him. She could have helped him from the outside. But instead she waited for him, not knowing where he had gone. Damn his secrecy. How long before she set off to look for him? How would she even know where to start looking? He wished they still had their smartphones. And that smartphones worked in this realm. Not to mention GPS and Google maps. The Land Without Magic definitely had its good points.
Rumplestiltskin frowned at the bars. He needed to communicate with Belle. If dark magic couldn't get through, perhaps light magic... He sent out a sliver of light energy. It slid right through the barrier.
He had found a loophole! After that triumphant realization, it was only a matter of patiently constructing a message spell and weaving in a guidance cantrip. Luckily, he still had a tenuous link to Belle that hadn't quite faded yet from yesterday's transfer of magical energy. To his relief, the message went through cleanly, and she was even able to send back her reassurance that she was on her way. Rumplestiltskin felt guilty for sending his wife on another long hike when she hadn't even recovered from the first one, and mentally promised to take her somewhere more relaxing at the first opportunity. Hot springs, or a tropical beach, perhaps. Time enough for that later, assuming the owner of this cage didn't show up first and kill him.
Well, there was a cheerful thought. He forced down the clamor of the voices in the darkness and concentrated most of his mind on preparing spells to deal with this unknown enemy. The tiny corner of his mind left free was listening, listening for Belle. It was no more than a ghostly impression of her presence, but it comforted him. Step by step, with agonizing slowness, she was getting closer.
Hours passed.
"Rumple!" Belle's anxious shout startled him out of his trance.
She was here. At last. He scrambled to his feet and moved to meet her, stopping her before she reached the cage. "No, no. Don't touch the bars with your bare hands."
"Then how do we get you out?" Belle tossed a stick at the cage. It disintegrated into a shower of sparks. "Can we break the spell?"
He had already figured that part out. He pulled out his dagger and held it up by the blade, offering the hilt to Belle. "Reach through the bars — carefully! — and take this. Use it to cut through the bars. It should at least weaken them enough for me to break free."
Belle nodded. Biting her lip in concentration, she slipped her hand into the cage and grasped the dagger, then stepped back with exquisite slowness. Then another step, and she held the dagger horizontally in front of her eyes. "Rumplestiltskin—"
And he knew he had made a fatal mistake. He stumbled back in horror, staying upright by force of habit even when his knees felt about to crumble beneath him. "No. No... Belle..."
"Rumplestiltskin, you are my creature now." Her voice full of glee, she no longer sounded anything like the Belle he knew.
Too late, he saw the real Belle sprinting through the trees towards the cage. "Rumple!"
"Belle. Go!" He knew he would be unable to protect her now.
The imposter laughed, sweeping a hand up to send Belle flying back. "Be silent."
No. He wanted to scream but he couldn't. He stared at the dagger in the imposter's hand. As long as she held it, there was nothing he could do.
He was a slave again.
Note: This Dao-Ji is the version of Ji Gong from "Legend of Crazy Monk" (2010), which is also the version most aware of his status as a character in a story. Imp!Rumple really did remind me of him, but it's hard for me to translate either of them into pure text.
