A/N: This is the last chapter. Sorry, I was mistaken. Not much more to write after this, y'know? I'm not exactly sure if I'm happy with it. Spent forever just sitting here, trying to avoid posting it just in case I had something else in mind to write. Seems too... abrupt. Then again, I just can't imagine Rumpel getting all worked up with a mushy goodbye. I'm a sucker for happy endings so maybe that's what I don't like about it, but I never had the intention for one either. Whatever. So... enjoy and review!
Disclaimer: I don't get why I even bother with these.
There's something truly magical about fairy tales. Not the magic itself like... pricking a finger on a spindle and sleeping for a hundred years... no ... but how they can stay with you forever; a never ending story in your heart. No matter how many times we hear the same tale, it feels like the very first time. That soft blush or roll of the eyes at that very first kiss of True Love, brows furrowed as we work out along with the hero an impossible riddle... And at last, that same, satisfied smile that grows as the tale comes to the end and the evil doer gets his comeuppance. While many aspects of the same story change through the years, ultimately, everything stays the same. Familiar roles like the dashing prince and beautiful princess. The wicked witch or cunning trickster. They never change. The end is always the same.
Like the saying goes: There's a dozen ways to skin a cat, but you can only kill it once
"Alright. Just a warning – you might not believe me," Rumpelstiltskin said seriously and Fiona rolled her eyes for him to continue. "You prolly know a bit already. The miller's daughter and the King, right?"
She nodded. It can't be that different. "Go on."
"Then everything else you know, isn't exactly how it went down. See, even I'm not sure how the rumor reached the King's ears, but I was pretty comfortable as his goldsmith and when I heard he had some nobody locked away in the dungeons and giving me competition, I had to know what her secret was. So, I stole the key to her cell and made a copy to see for myself. Come to find out, she was sobbing in a pile of straw with no idea how to do the impossible."
Fiona, despite her best efforts to remain skeptical, had to give him the benefit of the doubt. It was different, but made sense so far. How else would he just magically appear in a dungeon? It was obvious he had no magic of his own. If he did, he wouldn't have been locked up for so long. "Okay... from what I know, it was a misunderstanding and the King threatened her life if she didn't do it."
"Half right," he raised a brow before dropping his voice to whisper conspiratorially. "It was a scam. The King was recently widowed without an heir. The miller had just went bankrupt and started the rumor to get the Kings attention to marry his daughter and not worry about a dowry till after they were wed. Living in court and part of the royal family would have solved all their problems. They just thought the King would be a gentleman about it." He shrugged, as if he couldn't blame him. "The King was a bit cleverer then that and wouldn't marry unless she could prove it. Beheading a lying commoner is nothing, beheading a Queen... that's where your reputation's at stake."
"Death threats, huh? What a way to charm a lady."
"Ha! Yeah. So anyways," he continued. "I was young, she was sniveling ... and she was beautiful ..." he trailed off and a bite of that estranged annoyance ran through her veins. Her called her beautiful once as well. "So, I helped her. Guess I thought the faster she was Queen, the better chance I'd have at keeping my job and stay in the King's good graces. It was just a one time deal, y'know?" She knew it didn't turn out that way, but didn't interrupt. "She gave me her bracelet to melt down into gold while she threw the straw out the barred windows into the moat below. I ran it so thin, it could thread delicate fabrics without tearing. Made seven spools of solid gold."
"Didn't the King complain about how little there was compared to straw?"
"Naturally, but she did prove she could do it so he couldn't complain since she kept her end of the deal," he nodded. "She made an excuse to him about something to do with her 'magic' it and well, you know how it went. Bigger cell. More straw. I heard about it and came back. She gave me her necklace and I managed to make thirteen spools. The third night, she had nothing left to offer me."
"And then what?" Fiona asked anyway even though she knew what was coming since it wasn't her favorite part of the tale.
"And then... I did it for free. Used my own gold to make a bakers dozen."
There was a moments silence where she wasn't quite sure she heard him right. "What?"
Rumpelstiltskin gave a little shake of the head, eyes on the swaying sheets past her shoulder. "That was my first screw up. Anyway, y'know the rest - she married the King, forgot about the initial death threats, and had a happy marriage. But that's just how the story goes..." he paused for a moment, as if he wasn't so sure he wanted to continue now that he shared so much. "What really happened was... it wasn't a happily ever after and it wasn't the last time we met in that dungeon. Not a year later, she had a son with hair as red as mine."
Something uncoiled in the pit of her stomach at what she was hearing. That's definitely not the story she remembers. "What you're saying is... the baby was yours? As in yours – yours?"
"Yup," he nodded, as if everything he's told her wasn't so hard to believe. "Really, Fiona – think about it. Just why the hell would I ask for a baby in a bargain? Didja think I'd eat it or somethin'?"
"No, but maybe if you raised the King's heir as your own -"
"What for?"
Fiona had no answer to that. The more she thought about it, the more it seemed to make sense. The whole story was so riddled with holes to begin with and everything he's told her filled them in smoothly. Even as a child she always questioned how Rumpelstiltskin even met the miller's daughter; his own competitive jealously would have fit perfectly. He had the knowledge to know where she was and a means to get to her in the castle that way. Without any magic of his own, it's perfectly plausible the golden spools were made my hand. It was so very easy to believe that he was just plain evil whenever she wondered why he'd want a baby of all things.
"Alright," Fiona said after a few moments, admitting defeat for now. "So, when you found out – you asked for your baby like the story goes."
"My second mistake," another shrug. "Shoulda just let it be. See, you can behead a Queen for adultery. She wasn't going to give me my son because it'd give her away. Made up some cock and bull story to the King to cover her ass."
"What about your name – the guessing game?"
"My name?" He gave a humorless laugh that didn't quite suit him. "Right. Maybe she wanted to mock me or... or maybe she wanted to give me a chance ... dunno. Well, I had to guess my son's name. If I got it right – I'd keep him, if not – I'd be exiled from court."
"What was his name?" Her voice was barely a whisper over the sound of her children's laughter. It was obvious that he didn't guess correctly, but she had to know.
"She named my son after me," he said with a bark of laughter, so very similar to the one gave Shrek before this whole conversation. "I never woulda guessed it!"
He said it so simply, she couldn't believe how he hadn't gone mad at the cruel joke. And... perhaps he did. Maybe that was the straw that broke him and compelled him to find a magical way to make his contracts binding and always have them turn out in his favor. It certainly made no sense for the old exit clause to be his name like the rumors went. It just didn't fit with the way all the others after seemed so dry and clever, as if mocking the unfortunate client in his own twisted sense of humor. But if everything he's told her was true... that means his whole reputation was a lie and he was the one who was tricked the whole time. That he wasn't the bad guy from the beginning...
"You're lying to me," Fiona said finally. He had to be. "If – if you're not the bad guy in the story, why would you just accept the role for so long?"
"Oh, am I?" His voice took on a harsher tone, unfamiliar and cold, chilling her to the bone. He smiled, not a cruel one, but one he slips into every so often when he re-visits his world with her. It was cool and unflattering; like a card player silently warning you to fold and egging you on regardless. "Roles? You set too much score in fairy tales. Everyone was a bad guy in the story – even me. We all had our share of lies and underhanded moves. She had to screw me over to keep her head and I don't blame her. I left and didn't say a word. Who would believe me over royalty anyway?"
Once again, Fiona had no answer to that. It was so silly to think that not so long ago, she used to think her own fairy tale was so horrible when it didn't turn out like the way she always wanted. She can't imagine what it must have been like... losing his whole life, his reputation, and a child all in one tale. It's hardly a good enough excuse to take advantage of others... no ... but things could have been different if he had never helped that woman.
"But what about your son?"
"What about him? I left. The end."
She felt an anger rise and quicken her blood once more. Fiona couldn't imagine a parent ever leaving their child for anything, no matter the cost. Fargus's shy and quiet smiles, Farkle's wild antics, Felicia's strong and inquisitive nature... they meant the world to her. They were her constant happily ever after at the end of the day whenever they wrap their little arms around her neck or grace her ears with their bubbling laughter. She'd do anything to make sure she's never apart from them. By the sound of it, it seemed like he wasn't all that sad about it. Maybe his son was better off without him. A father that would so easily give that all up, wouldn't be much of a father at all.
"I think it's pretty low even for you to just leave without even trying."
"What good is a headless father to a bastard son?" Rumpelstiltskin replied shortly. "Banishment was a mercy the King wasn't famous for."
Fiona sighed, accepting the answer for what it was. When he puts it like that, he did what he had to do to survive, even if it was in his worst interest. She supposed he'd grown accustomed to it, probably even acknowledged his past mistakes since he had to know what he was getting into when he decided to have an affair with a Queen. She wondered if he ever spent long hours thinking of that red haired boy and what's become of him. If his son had that same dimpled smile with some unknown mischief he'll never see reflecting back at him. All that – lost to him. Unwritten. Just for the greed of gold.
"So, how did you find the magic ink?" Fiona asked, deciding to clear the air with something – just anything else. She was still undecided after hearing his side of the story. He could be lying, twisting things to his liking, no matter how much it seemed to fit. Perhaps that's the thing about fairy tales ... no one ever wants to hear the whole story. It loses its magic that way.
"With lots of backstabbing, twists, turns and too many promises I still don't intend to keep but... that's another story for another time," he smirked and Fiona expected as much. He always seems to know just what to say to leave someone wanting; forever the salesman. "But while we're on the subject... you know I still have some left."
Fiona felt a small kick of apprehension in her stomach at where this was leading to and somewhere in the depths of her mind, she's always known he'd ask. In a way, she's wanted him to.
"Would you ever want to live Fiona's life?" She's only ever thought those same exact words these past few days, but to hear it said out loud brought a chill down her spine. She could barely breathe; her mind serenely empty. No thoughts of Shrek, not even of her children; Felicia's squeal of laughter soft and muted as if coming from a far off world. "The real one, I mean."
"Picture waking up to a revolution everyday with a small army at your command," he continued and she half expected him to give her his best trademark sleazy smile to further sell his idea, only that was not the case. He was grim like she'd never seen him, eyes unwavering with the same longing she's only kept secret.
"A sword in your hand instead of clothespins."
The sword... she's dreamed of it. The handle worn smooth by her touch; her constant companion. Dreams of her fingers running over rough and battle worn greaves, securing the buckles... of her hand gripping the comforting reminder of a dagger at her thigh like a nervous habit... Fiona felt her eyes close like they often do whenever he speaks and a half-forgotten, familiar weight settled in the palm of her hand as if a sword had always been there. It wasn't until she brushed the empty space where her dagger should be did she realize she was dreaming again; a half-dream she falls into whenever he's near. A faded memory; those first few words of a song you can never remember and never forget.
"Feel what she felt."
She thought briefly of the last encounter Rumpelstiltskin described and how Fiona said the need for reality was just as nagging as the need for fantasy and wondered if this – this moment – is what she meant. Maybe there wasn't a difference anymore. Maybe that once-was and never-could-be warrior felt the same around him. Lately, she's felt as if she had one foot in each world; yearning for that taste of adventure solely written for her and yet... guilty that she'd ever consider leaving the life she loves so much to sample it.
"Come back... " His voice faltered almost as if he meant to say more but changed his mind.
A small and fleeting suspicion passed though her thoughts that perhaps Rumpelstiltskin didn't hate that warrior half as much as he would've liked to make her believe and simply didn't dare tell her because she couldn't – or maybe wouldn't – come to terms with that reality. It doesn't matter now, of course; she never existed. Nothing but a 'what if'. A once upon a time. Never-was. Maybe that world is the only place that warrior could live... in a fantasy that believed it was reality...
...or perhaps … it's always been the other way around.
"I could make that happen, y'know..."
Fiona opened her eyes and found herself closer to the cage then she realized; his eyes focused on hers and waiting for her reply. "I would never pay the price for it."
"You wouldn't have to," he said slowly, almost carefully. "I'll pay it for you."
Fiona thought of Shrek who risked his life for her numerous times and her children whom she lives for every day. Friends laughing around the dinner table, the memory of her father and a mother who loves her dearly. Thought of anything she loved and needed just to outweigh the silly, selfish yearning that screamed at her to go back to a world she's never been to. It was nothing but a longing that never could be. Maybe that's what always been her problem... she's always longed for a longing. Beauty. Freedom. A kiss. A family... Now, she has nothing left to desire.
"No, Stiltskin."
A wave of déjà vu hit him like an icy wave through his heart; killing her. Putting to rest the woman he knew once upon a time. Buried her deep with nothing but a sword as a headstone because even in his mind, he'd like her to be nameless.
"This... is real. My life. I wouldn't trade it for anything."
Real. Rumpelstiltskin chuckled softy, more of a sigh than anything; the kind that sounds too exhausted to even bother. What's reality but something people accept when they think there's nothing more out there? He's lived long enough to know that no one wants real; not when there's the chance they could change their story. A once in a lifetime deal. That 'what if' floating in the back of the mind. Accepting reality would mean that nothing in his wretched wife was worth it. He's paid so much... and never got what he wanted in return. After planning everything perfectly, pushing his cunning to the limit and living his life's dream – Rumpelstiltskin could accept losing it all. He could, because he considered the possibility of failure. It's those little details in life one has to look out for after all. It prepares you for everything, several steps ahead of the rest.
Except... he's never wrote her in the details. No way possible; ink smears on skin... He remembered the way her body trembled with barely restrained laughter as he tired to keep a steady hand, racing his quill down the curve of her spine... writing words she'd never see and never dared to say aloud. He didn't prepare in gaining an occasional-friend, always-enemy, and constant-lover. Nothing could... and so... nothing could have prepared him for losing her as well.
"When you know there's something better out there, you don't want real," he insisted. Hoped. Begged. He wasn't so sure and it didn't matter. He didn't want real. Real meant living without her. He wasn't so sure he could; not like before. Hell – he doesn't even care if he'll never live the life of self-indulgence anymore. After living so long in a cage, anything with leg room sounded like a luxury. Just having her back, even if it was a lie written in gold, would be enough. It was something. That small part of her etched into his skin... was all he had left to lose.
"My life can't get any better than this." It was is a half-lie, he knew this. Or at least... hoped it was. Maybe she found comfort with the knowledge that some of it was true. He didn't.
He didn't reply because it wasn't the answer he wanted. And he hated her for it. Hated her bratty children and her ungrateful, undeserving husband. Even hated the 'no trespassing' sign that read like an insult. Maybe it's really over. Over since the day she left. He was just... just so tired; exhausted over the events and memories these past three days had given him. Funny how history repeats itself... Three days spinning gold, guessing games, and story telling. Just can't get rid of fairy tales. Maybe the trick is not trying.
Rumpelstiltskin broke eye contact, the longest yet they've ever had, and fixed his gaze on her playing children. Fiona's girl gave an distant, frustrated scream as her son knocked a chain of daises from her hands with a well aimed splatter of mud and the sounds of their wrestling grew louder to his senses; the world awakening once again. Back to reality. Bright and far too real to his tastes; lukewarm and bland without her even if the mocking reminder was standing nearby. There's nothing more for him here and he wondered numbly why he even bothered.
We're done here, Fiona had once upon a time said when she walked out of a life that never-was.
"I guess we're done here," Rumpelstiltskin agreed and wiped whatever remaining rust that clung to the palms of his hands; sore from gripping the bars so tightly. He wasn't even so sure if his offer will stand in the future, but he wasn't going to waste the energy hoping. "This is goodbye, Fiona." And for the first time in a year... the cage swung open. Other than the expected tired creak and rust lifting away, it was almost disturbing how easily it gave in under his touch. He almost didn't believe it at first.
Fiona startled at the sound, a gasp escaping her lips as she took a step back. "How – has it been unlocked the whole time?" Fiona stammered with that little wrinkle of confusion around her nose he's often missed and will probably never get a chance to see again.
"Shrek," Rumpelstiltskin supplied before dropping down on solid earth, the first time in a year.
It came as a surprise too. Minutes before Fiona decided to take the kids outside and chat him up, Shrek stepped out their cottage, snapping the door behind him. There was a look of plain murder on his face and it wasn't hard to figure out that Shrek had found out about his late night dinners. Rumpelstiltskin wasn't a brave man, but he was ready for whatever Shrek decided to do to him. Couldn't do much about it anyway, could he? But instead of the strangulation he was sure to get – Shrek unlocked the door to his cage. "Git yeh gone before I get back, Rumpel." he had said and Rumpelstiltskin was in such a state of shock, words were beyond him. All those many days he's spent coming up with his 'Fuck-all and Fuck-you' farewell speech he saved just for the occasion, forgotten. He only hung upside down, mouth agape, wondering if he had heard right as Shrek stomped away. He assumed that it was just some cruel joke and wasn't going to try falling for it, but there it was. His freedom given so simply after what felt like a hundred years.
Rumpelstiltskin stretched his legs experimentally. It was going to be a long walk through the swamps before he'll come across some sort of road to hitchhike and it looked like it was going to be tiring on a pair of legs that haven't done more than sit and stand for a year. He wasn't looking forward to it. The long awaited victory skip would have to wait. Without another glance he turned away and started making his way down the path. No point lingering any longer. He might have lived like an animal for the past year, but he still had some dignity to walk away. He was a businessman after all.
"Rumpel! Can we - just wait." Fiona called out suddenly and he paused mid-step. He was tired of waiting, what more was there to really say? This is the end of a miserable chapter of his life. Seems like his life is full of endings.
He wanted to stop. Turn around. Listen to whatever she had to say or couldn't say. Maybe he just wanted to sit down and linger just a little while longer. Share a few more memories of the woman he misses everyday, no matter how much he's seen of her this past year. Live a real life instead of something fake and borrowed. He wanted a lot of things.
Rumpelstiltskin kept walking.
There's nothing wrong in wanting after all.
Thanks: So I wanna give a great big thanks to all those who reviewed! It kept me writing, even when I kinda wanted to stop at one point. Most importantly, I'd like to thank rawshark who's novel length reviews always made me smile and look at things in a different light to even further improve my writing. Couldn't have done it without ya!
Coming soon: As I've probably mentioned before, I'm not much of a writer. By that, I don't mean quality (although one can always improve), but rather my need to write. I've had to literally leave sticky notes on my mirror to guilt trip me into putting a few hours into writing. But writing all this has left me... strangely empty... and still wanting, y'know? But... I don't have any more plots swimming around. So... I intend (because I just can't drop this pairing) to write a series of drabbles in the future. So... hope to see some readers coming back! Thanks again!
EDIT: OH SHIT SON! I was just now browsing the interwebs searching my username on the off chance that someone wrote something about my writing (oh yeah, I'm waaay shallow like that) and I come across fanfictionrec with this very story on the suggested list for people to download as an ebook. Gotta admit, that made my day. So... yay me! Thank you unknown stranger for suggesting it!