Love or magic. The two choices tugged remorselessly at the Dark One's insipid thoughts as he walked through the peaceful woodland glade. Love or magic. Two sides of the same coin. Power or Belle? Darkness or light? Those were the questions that assailed his thoughts and none wrought any answers to his weary soul.

Rumpelstiltskin sighed a heavy curse as the thoughts swirled through his ancient mind. His lips were traced into a thoughtful, melancholy frown as the contemplation whisked by in a tumultuous blur. How did such occurrences always happen to him! For once in a very long time he could be happy, only to have his happiness put with a clause that threatened what he held most dear.

Fate always seemed to leave another cunning, clandestine trap in his path awaiting to spring and snag him and bar him away from his happiness right at his very fingertips. He felt like man lost is a cave with the maw in his sight only for his leg to be caught in the fanged jaws of his own beastliness. Reaching and reaching, his hand came just to the soft light before he could extend no further and was left again in his darkness as evil pulled him back into the belly of the cave to devour him.

Power brought him the loss of his son, and that same darkness would lose him…. No, he tossed his head viscously at the deplorable thought. He refused to think of that. One he loved, his dearest son, was already out of his reach. Would he lose his precious love as well?

Leaves rustled under his step and spare twigs snapped beneath his black boots as he stomped doggedly through the woods of Sherwood Forrest. Glorious morning sun slanted through the misty fog of the sleeping trees alighting the mist in golden brilliance. Vapors rose from the land to add to the most and dew the flora and fauna still alive. Deer munched upon the last green springs and the robins argued in their pretty tongue. Peaceful silence laid like a thick blanket upon the forest, imbuing all with the restfulness of winters coming.

Dissatisfaction oozed through the Dark One's veins like sludgy, brackish marsh water as he studiously wove through the age old trunks of beech and oaks and elms. The trees were naked of their persons and slept until the dawning of spring rattled them awake to spread their canopies of green once more. His senses disregarded the beauteous morn, completely enraptured in his own troubles. He only came to the woods because that was where he felt the first tug of emotion for the beauty.

Basking in the silence of winters waxing near, the Dark One let the deathliness engulf him. The silence was a soothing unguent to his brain, cooling his panicked fervor of thoughts that wracked him like a strangling hand, and allowed him to breath.

If only he could be like the winter about to assail the realms, cold and unerring and harsh, he thought wistfully to himself as he basked in the barren woods and the first sharp breaths of the cold months. Perching his head up, the fiend leaned against a glorious fir and closed his sable eyes in the chill quiet. For a long time he had been like the hoary breath of the snows, he knew, until Belle.

A small, lugubrious smile twitched sporadically to his scaled face as the name of his love came to his mind. Like a strong ray of light in the feeble darkness, she always brought something good to his heart no matter what dour master enthralled him.

Belle was the spring, soft and warm, offering the tepid breath of life to the cold and desolate lands of his heart. She banished frost and brought forth the buds and all the living things asleep and hidden in the snows banks. She was wonderful and he could have had that wonder. Her majesty was his for the caring and loving. She had given herself freely to him, happily bringing her spring over the frosts of his heart.

"No." Rumpelstiltskin fiercely snarled to himself. The smile faded from his features like a warm memory suddenly dashed by the cold winds of melancholy. Cold rage at himself glinted sparks in his dark eyes. "No you can't have her. She gave you love and you tossed her ardor back. You don't deserve her."

Hanging his head as though scolded by his own anger, the fiends stared at his hands. The talons twitched and flexed sporadically, readying to cast magic from their black nailed tips or simply shred with the endowed power oozing through his sinew. Such power laid in his hand, demanding to be used, itching under his flesh like plague, but what did such matter when he had no one to use the power for?

Power did not bring him happiness, he knew infinitely well. Bitterness welled in his throat at the all too true though. Deals brought him some stray granules of satisfaction, but not even that brought true glee to his heart. The only time he could remember happiness was holding his Bae, his leg still throbbing and in peril of infection, and being close to his Belle.

Those brought him happiness of the heart. Those were memories he cherished and the yearned to have again, not the deplorable power that coursed through his veins.

Still, a grimace molded upon his ugly features, he craved power. Power was his ale, his vice, his master that controlled him. Curling his claws into fists he laid them back to his side. Magic raced through his black blood, essentially entwined into the very core of his being. For centuries magic was who he was. He simply couldn't banish his power and become Hobblefoot the coward again.

And besides, darkness whispered venom into his torn and bleeding mass of heart, he had already shunned his Belle. She wouldn't take him back after what he had done to her. No one would do such an insane thing after daring to love him once and rue disaster. If she could stomach him once, after his blatant denial of that affection, surely she would sever what little she felt for him.

But she had saved him, he knew, his soul daring to face the blackness to fight against the wheedling poison. She brought out a part of him long thought dead. He did love her, with all his beastly heart, but after what he had done….

Clenching his jaw, the fiend banished the lies of the darkness piercing his heart with poisoned daggers. That was how the Dark One before Belle would think. He would not find excuses or run to covet his power like an old miser with a hoard of coins. He would confront her and assure her his love was genuine. He would fall to his knees and beg her forgiveness for the churlish, crass words of a coward that babbled past his lips. Even if she shunned him he would explain everything to her.

He had been selfish, he realized with the utmost shame. He loved Belle. No amount of darkness could measure an inkling to that joy. And he would prove his love. By the darkness itself he would prove it!

Snapping his fingers, the Dark One disappeared from the forest, leaving his insecurity and doubt behind like the first snows fall.

~8~8~

Belle paced vapidly back and forth in the room the Dark One had allotted her. Once a place of gladness, the chamber seemed as dour as the rest of the dreaded citadel of her former mistress. No joy entered her heart from the refuge and no relief bespelled her soul.

Sadness and contemplative worry marred her beautiful visage as she padded back and forth. The entire days nap, once a blessing was now nothing more than a curse to her active mind. All the night she had stayed up her eyes either filled with tears or fears. What was happening to her love?

When he had began to lose his magic, he had snapped away from her as though she were diseased. There had been fear and anger and worry dancing in his sable depths that hid away the love he felt down past the depths of his blackness. He had become, cold and harsh and inwardly drawn like a dragon protecting its cache. He snapped upon her and curled tighter about his vaunted power until he looked like the Dark One that arrived when Cora drew him into her citadel.

He did love her, she knew with what ray of light she could scrounge. Oh yes, even in his shift from loving protector to surviving fiend, he still loved her. That she could see with all her heart. That was what had caused him to react so. But would he let that love be locked away in a sarcophagus formed by the evil hands of the willful magic and the darkness gnarled in a dastardly root about his very heart?

Tears stung the beauty's azure eyes with the thought. Why wouldn't he let the evil in him reign against the paltry affections of love? So long had he been the Dark One mired in the slough of evil and power and magic, why would he choose her, a former slave who could offer him nothing?

Pain jabbed Belle's heart like a blade striking her very soul at the all too true thoughts. What did she offer him? Only love, not power or magic, just herself. Sliding down to the edge of the soft bed, the beauty drooped her head in her hands. Of course he wouldn't give up the magic. Why would she dare even hope otherwise?

"Belle." The Dark One muttered her name like a long forgotten prayer as he appeared in their hideaway. Clouds of dark amethyst rolled over the floor like boiling fog coaxed up from the black stone as he manifested in the room.

Light from the afternoon sun glinted over his skin like gold. His flesh twinkled like flecks from a river bed were embedded in the skin. His body reeked of magic and lingered on every breath he took like some drunkard come home from a night of laying waste to kegs.

Belle's heart sank as the flows of magic assailed her in jarring lashes. Darkness slithered about him and struck at her like daggers seeking to pierce her already wounded heart. Tendril of his intangible power coiled about her aorta and squeezed until she felt as though her heart would burst from the injustice of it all.

Never had she sensed of seen such magic about him. Surely he had made some choice and cast her love away in favor of his vaunted powers. Certainly he meant to deny his love and cast her off, a liability he could ill afford where his magic's were concerned.

Looking at the woman who owned his heart, the fiend felt his body tremble in awe of her. The weight of his cowardice piled upon his shoulders to a point he nearly felt his body bend in agony. Shame blotted his heart like a stain over the bit of light she managed to coax to his soul. Such a beautiful creatures, inside and out, and he had shunned her in a panic of his power.

He wasn't good enough for her, he knew in the very depths of his ill heart. Lugubrious intent filled him in every corner of his body as he lounged in her loveliness. How could a beast such as he ever be worthy of a beauty such as she?

The love she gave he had tossed away all in the name of power. Surely he must have dashed his chances to cherish what affection she could stomach to give him. After what he had done, certainly she must have known he wasn't worthy enough of her love. There were better men out there. One's that would treat her like a queen and not shun her love for their power and selfishness.

If he had lost her love, he supposed broken heartedly, his soul weeping. But at least he could afford her explanation.

"Belle I'm sorry." Rumpelstiltskin choked out from the lump of shame lodged like a boulder in his throat. Padding forwards to her, the Dark One stared into her azure eyes. Hurt and pain and confusion danced in those orbs he found so alluring. Like Cora, he had hurt her, and that was unforgivable in every way.

His bottom lips quivered as he neared her. What a stupid fool he was, tossing away her ardor for nothing but clouds. How could he have done such a terrible deed? What kind of creature was he? Even monster did not act such.

"Belle." Her name came out an apologetic prayer. Falling shamefully to his knees, the Dark One bowed his head to her. Coward that he was he couldn't even look at her after what he'd done.

Being so close dredged him in the acid of shame. He wallowed in guilt and the gnawing cowardice that bit away at his soul. In his bid for having his power back, he raced wantonly into the malicious grasp of Cora who was always ready to bring forth the blackest part of his soul.

At the vastly disgusting thought, the Dark One wriggled unpleasantly. He felt filthy after lying with her again. There was an invisible grim coating his skin that he felt as though a thousand baths could not remove. He was not even worthy to be so close to his love with the lingering aroma of dark magic of the cruel Cora still on his skin.

Hot, scalding tears brooked down Belle's milky cheek in the familiar tributaries from the night. What once she thought would be a cold rejecting was not. He came to her like a man burdened with shame over some irreconcilable deed. But what shame, she wished to scream! He had nothing to be ashamed of. He had vices, he had troubles, and hurdles to over come. Those were all the marks of the man that may have come out with the disastrous kiss. He may have jerked away from the kiss but a man still he was.

Fighting back her tears, the beauty grinned above him. Her work weary fingers threaded through his dirty brown tresses as though remembering him before the kiss. "Rumpel." His name burbled out from her relief and anguish. At least he was there. At least he was real, even if he chose to cut their ties. "What's wrong Rumpel? Tell me please."

Taken in rapture by her soft touch the Dark One leaned against her. His scaled forehead lay against her thigh as he sat there at her feet. Heart awash with emotion he confessed like a child to her all the memories and pasts of his doings and all his beastliness.

"Belle. I have always been a coward." His voice choked out the confession aloud. Gorge rose like boiling bile to his throat as the words left his tongue. Long had he denied cowardice, but to her he would deny what truths were etched upon his black heart. "When I was just a man I crippled myself to be given leave from war and be with my son. When I came by the power I let this magic take hold over my heart. I lost my son to keep this power of mine all because I couldn't give this damned magic up. Behind this Dark One is a cur that let his son go for magic." He admitted shamefully.

"When you kissed me I felt those fears rise again in a wave I thought long forgotten. I love you, I do, but I am a coward. A filthy, lying, son-less coward." A sob of his humiliation and same erupted past his lips. "Perhaps what happened was the best to show you what type of… thing I am." He spat deprecatingly. "I didn't deserve your love. I don't deserve anything from you. But I wanted you to know why the coward in me rose up. To love you was to deny my darkness. I won't deny I am dark, but neither will I deny I love you."

Involuntarily every muscle in his being tightened as his words ended. Dread clutched piercing iron talons about his already bleeding heart. Surely now would come the sorrowful reprimand that her love was already gone from her heart. There would be regret in her voice, but she would not afforded him her affections again. Why would any risk such hurt again or wish to be with an admitted coward? Milah certainly hadn't and his son had called him a coward before they were parted.

The Dark One flinched as she moved. Part of him thoroughly expected her to get up and walk away from him, not wishing to be near such a creature with such a vile past. Abruptly he felt a hand placed upon his shoulder. Looking up, he found no sorrow but basked in her soft, forgiving smile.

Only love danced in her bejeweled orbits of blue. Acceptance and tenderness radiated like the dawn from her, beating back the whispering blackness of his heart. Truly she was the light to his eternal night.

Kneeling, the beauty placed her hand in his. Forgiveness sparkled in her sapphire orbs as she stared him in the eye. "My love hasn't gone anywhere, Rumpel." A soft, watery laugh fled her lips. "We all have are breaking points. We all make mistakes and have regrets. I couldn't stop loving you even if I tried." Her hands strode his hair lovingly. "We will find away to get through this. We'll figure out something."

"How can you forgive me so?" Rumpelstiltskin inquired in a soft breath. Head bowed, he dared not stare upon his love with the light of one who thought themselves forever bereft of love again. How could she give something that he didn't deserve?

Tears of happiness brimmed in her depths. "I love you, silly man. You came back to me. You were willing to be the man on the inside that you are on the inside." A hint of sadness flared across her face. "It will be a long, hard road for us, but this is proof things will work out in the end. I don't doubt our love is strong. We just need to let it grow."

"Yes." He agreed and bobbed his head. "And the first thing we'll do is leave this place, Belle." A sturdy smile came to his lips. No more would he allow himself to be in a sea of the darkest magic. No more did he wish to be reminded of the dastardly power or the one who would love to see his love stifled. "I'm sick of this place and the magic here. We're leaving this day. Ready yourself and meet me in the main hall. I have a bit of business to discuss with Cora and then we will be gone."

~8~8~

Almost ready now, Cora remarked pleasantly in her mind as she glided about her gilded room. Waltzing to her trio of mirrors from her vanity, the witch stared at her beautiful reflection.

The woman on the inside crowed with delight, but the woman on the out was a different matter. Her paints were cast away leaving her with a face of the woman centuries before desperately in over her head. Her normal glossy ruby smile was replaced with a pale pink frown of concern. Strands of her hair sat just a touch out of place, unnoticeable to many, but not to the perceptive Rumpelstiltskin.

She certainly did look the part. Her body was barren from jewelry, all save a small ring upon the fourth fingers on her left hand. A small nine faceted ruby glittered in the setting upon the golden band crafted into miniscule dragon scales.

Malifcent's centuries old vile magic's swarmed energetically through the ring but she had to take the dragon's word for such powers at work. The magic was so subtle even the wearer couldn't feel the effects but the serpentine witch assured her the magic would work even on the Dark One when the time came.

A small smile twitched her insipid lips as the name came to her mind. Magic hummed through the air in the expectation of arrival.

Just in time.

"I'm leaving and I wish to rearrange our deal." Rumpelstiltskin spat flatly as he blinked into life into Cora's ostentatious chambers. Resolution hemmed the fiends words as stood to the side of the witch. His lips were a thing gray line and his black eyes danced with challenging. Too long had he been the devious fiend. He needed to show his Belle he could be a good man, and good men didn't try to plunge the realms into misery.

Staring at the glass of her vanity, the witch did not look his way. Gathering her emotions she forced her glee inwardly to disappear. Now would be the most important performance in a very long while.

Worry marred her plain face as she gazed into the mirror. "You can't-." She began but he interrupted.

"I can't?" He huffed mirthlessly, his tone dark with unhidden, intoned threat. "Oh Dearie believe me, I can. I want to no longer be accomplice to this scheme. Nothing is worth disappointing my Belle. I want to find a way to stymie my magic not turn it to evil. I lost one I love. I will not lose her."

The witch shook her head, her dark locks becoming more awry. "No I mean you can't leave, Rumpel -" Desperation crowded her voice, tinged by fear.

"I can do anything!" He roared and spread his arms wide. "For the first time I feel free. I have Belle at my side and that is worth more to me than you ever will be."

"Rumpel-."

"I don't care about my power any more and I don't care about you!" The beast roared to the calm witch his eyes ablaze. "I will go with her. I will have a life with her! If I break my curse then I shall. She is worth more to me than any magic. She is worth more to me than anything."

"Rumpel." Cora inflected his name softy for the third time still not looking in his direction. Her ringed hand trembled slightly as she brought it up to her chest. Spell worn fingertips curled over the neckline of her dress, an old habit of worry she held before she mastered magic.

A snarl wrench from his lips. "What?" His muscled tensed and magic burned in his blood ready for any attack.

Confusion wrinkled his gray-gold features as no attack assailed his weedy figure. What did she want? Why wasn't she furious?

Turning to him for the first time, the witch let the silence speak. Her almond eyes danced with the answer.

Horror filled the Dark One as the sudden realization struck him like a blow to the head. Even with Cora silent he knew what words she wished to speak but couldn't. They had been to long together not to know one another well.

He knew the look in her eyes.

"No." He tossed his head, his words low with disbelief. Magic flared out to detect a lie, but to his horror he could not; only truth, the terrible truth. "No."

~8~8~

Excitement thrilled through Belle as she waited for her love. The main hall, once a place of endless hours of labor, seemed different knowing she was not to call the dreadful place prison any longer. Everything seemed foreign in nature as though leaving from a nightmare. And she was, she knew gladly, her heart singing, she was leaving from a nightmare that had turned into a dream.

Standing at the threshold of the door that led into the vestibule and then to the doors that opened to freedom, the beauty leaned against a black column. The coldness barely touched her flesh as she awaited expectantly with what few treasures she had.

Cora had given her nothing so she had nothing to take with her. Not that she wished to take much with her. Only bad memories would come with many things from her citadel. The only things she took was the chipped tea cup and his wine rose.

Holding the trinkets in both hands, the beauty clutched the frailer cup close. In her mind, Cora lost ownership of the cup when she chipped it. Rumpelstiltskin wanted the cup and it was his just as the wine rose was hers.

Abruptly, magic cut through her thoughts ripping her away from thoughts of the cup. A smile alit her face at the familiar tingling if magic from the Dark One. Over the months she had grown to adore the tell tale signs of his magic and now was no exception.

Meeting his eyes, laughter of her lips, the beauty instantly knew something was amiss. A numb frown molded his lips and his eyes were hallow.

Alarm and confusion crinkled her face as the laughter died before it even had a chance to break free. Why was he so despondent, she wondered in confusion. This was to be their happiest moment with all their trouble, their doubts, left behind.

In the past hour both there souls were swept clear of secrets and shames. He revoked his words of denial of his love and they were set to be happy.

So what was wrong?

"Has something happened?" Uncertainty crept in the borders of her voice. Her heart pulsed with a dreaded knowing. He would never be so despondent unless something terrible occurred.

Sorrow filled his black orbs as he took a numb step towards his love. Pain filled his features as he swallowed down agony and stated simply, "Cora's pregnant."