47
She thought she'd cry for days. Every time she lost him before, she was devastated - lost to herself and to the world.
In fact, her hysterical outburst proved to be brief. Her eyes were dry by the time she stumbled back to town and stood hesitantly in the middle of the Main Street, clutching her useless dagger, unsure of her next move. Where should she go? To her - His house? She cast its owner - her husband - out of town - out of her life. Does she have a right to go and sleep in their empty bed now?
Would she be able to sleep, at all?
She couldn't go to his shop, as well - for the same reasons.
Normally she would have gone to Granny's Diner. Yet what would she find there? All the good people in town, happy in their reunions and deliverances from evil; angry at her husband; full of pity for her; and also strangely apprehensive, for she did something unspeakable today - something no one expected of her.
She cancelled true love. By sheer effort of her angry will she undid the bound that linked her to him always, in darkest times and in happiest ones. She severed the link that survived death itself. She was that powerful. Or that stupid. Or that desperate... Who would have thought that gentle, all-forgiving Belle would do such a thing? How would they look at her now? What would they see in her?.. They all have been through a lot, but none of them ever did anything like that. None of them looked a person they loved more than life right into tear-filled eyes and said with cruel finality: "Go away. I don't need you anymore".
Only he did that - to her, once upon a time in his castle. But he was the Dark One - a beast, a monster. He did what was expected of him.
And now she did that to him.
Who was she, after that? A hero, who saved people in moment of danger? Or a selfish monster who put her immediate feelings above greater good and pushed away a person in need?
She couldn't answer these questions herself, and she didn't want to meet glances of the good people asking those same questions of her. So she couldn't go to Granny's.
Yet she needed to go somewhere for warmth and company - she needed to be somewhere with people, so she wouldn't have to really, really think of what she did and what would become of her now that she quit her "job": loving him, giving him hope and light. A job she wasn't awfully good at, it appears, anyway.
Decision came suddenly and almost unconsciously, rising from somewhere deep in her mind - from the confused and sad part of her that knew how to live without him; from Lacey. When Lacey was lost and sad, she went to the "The Rabbit Hole". And that's where her feet brought her now, almost on their own volition.
The bar was comfortingly loud and smoky, as always. Drinks were placed in front of her instantly, smiles were friendly - she felt as if she never left. As if he never walked into this place with a stunned look on his lined face, and never asked her on a date in his polite, ceremonious way, and never seduced her by his ferocious darkness... that darkness that was so much a part of him; that darkness that she refused to accept any longer.
It was impossible to think of that. Not now. Not yet. Perhaps not ever.
She needed a drink. And then another, and another.
One guy, among others who winked and smiled at her, seemed to have a deeper, more sympathetic look. She knew him - he was the perpetually drunken fellow who broke into the library once and tried to steal a copy of "Alice in Wonderland". Will Scarlet, they called him - she saw him in town later, with his sad doggy eyes and funny accent. He seemed a nice fellow, deep down below - or was she still seeing "goodness in others", as He said she did? Well, he said that even if goodness were not there, she would create it.
Not in him, apparently.
But this fellow still seemed nice enough.
So she accepted another drink.
Things got a bit blurry afterwards. She felt she has to leave, has to go somewhere, and Will went with her, stumbling along and muttering that he cannot leave a lady alone in time of need. She couldn't recall how they got there, but she knew that, coming to her senses in the middle of the night, she found herself in her husband's shop, in the back room, on the camp bed, alone, clutching her pillow and crying.
She knew then why she didn't cry before, just after he left - after she made him go. She was just too stunned yet. It was shock, and it passed with drink and brief passage of time, and the pain, the dull ache of his absence hit her and brought tears to her eyes.
What was she crying for, for goodness sake? She made a decision. It was her own. She made the bed, might as well sleep on it... Alone...
If only he'd stop calling to her, from that other world where she banished him, if only she'd stop feeling his love - that love that she denied ever existed! How can something non-existent call to her so strongly? "It was working. That means it is true love!" These were her own words. He didn't believe her then, but she was right, wasn't she?
Could it be that she was wrong now? Could it be that he did love her, after all, only she couldn't see it for all her anger and pain?
Eventually she cried herself back to sleep. And in the morning she woke up with a heavy head, but with a clearer brain, able to ignore - almost - the ache in her heart, the soft murmur of his voice, echoing in her ears with this constant "I love you, Belle. You made me stronger".
And she was distracted, anyway, for when she walked out of the back room, she found Will sleeping on the floor of the shop. As she woke him up he informed her, with a cheeky grin, that he had nowhere else to go and decided to stay and "mind things in the shop". That was some statement from the known thief, but she let it go - nothing was missing.
To repay for his courtesy of taking her home the night before she offered him breakfast. He eagerly accepted.
Next day, he appeared in front of the shop saying that now he has to offer her breakfast - for the day before. She smiled and said "ok".
And so it went on, day after day, so that they became a fixture at Granny's. When they came together, people stared at them, unable to understand how she could be romancing someone so soon after... What happened. But nobody dared to ask awkward questions: it is somehow harder to approach a couple than a single person.
People took them for granted, and she didn't care to explain what really went on, and was glad of the silence surrounding her.
There wasn't a lot of people to break that silence, anyway - it was not as if she had many sympathetic friends in town.
Will was good company. He made her smile a lot, with his funny voice and his amusing stories. And when occasionally he approached her for a kiss, especially after a couple of drinks, she would not deny him small tokens of affection. She had to go on living, hand' she? She had to move on.
She had to move on, because He, apparently, did so.
She knew he moved on, because she seized feeling his love - his inner calling for her stopped, abruptly. One day, quite soon after he left, actually, she was jolted by complete silence in her heart. He stopped pulling at her - stopped so suddenly and fully as if it was his life that ended, not simply his love. There was a void where he used to be, emptiness in place of a man she loved. His heart was silent. And she knew it was all over.
She did not cry - she couldn't, she was too stunned. It was too painful and too shameful to cry over the proof that you were right all along.
He was able to move on. He really didn't love her.
Oh, his call did come back, eventually, much later, much weaker - like a flicker of something remembered, not a real thing.
So she knew: he remembers her with affection. He holds no grudge against her - that was generous of him, though unexpected, she would have thought he'd feel vengeful yet he remembered her kindly.
But he has moved on.
And she did her best to follow suite. Dating Will. Keeping things in order in the shop. Helping Hook to figure out how to save the fairies from the magical hat. She was not in denial, oh no - she knew it is important to talk of her feelings, so she talked to the pirate of the nature of love and how it blinds us. Perhaps she overdid the "strong and right" part a bit; the practical girl took over too strongly, protested too much, for she was shocked to hear the pirate defend Him - tell her that whatever he was, he certainly truly loved her. Her eyes filled with tears, but she never explained to him why she was so sure he's wrong. It would not do to tell him: "I don't feel him in my heart anymore". Too soppy. Too romantic.
Moving on is not a very romantic thing. It requires coldness and determination. It requires stopping herself from silly memories. From thinking, "he'd do this and that if he was here now", from thinking "he'd translate this spell in a minute", forgetting momentarily that the spell was necessary because of his crimes. Stopping herself from thinking, again and again: "Perhaps I should have let him talk. Explain himself..." She had to know why he was so determined to free himself from the dagger, and her curiosity was never satisfied. Perhaps he had some other reasons apart from his love of power. After all, she once promised herself she'd accept his right to keep secrets... That she'd accept him as he was. Yet she pushed him away the moment when she saw that he is just... Not what she wished him to be. Perhaps she should have listened... Ah, that was exactly the sort of thinking that had to be avoided once you were moving on! So she was avoiding, checking herself whenever the wistful thinking started. Stopping herself from angry outbursts and crying, from thinking "I was sure he'd try and come back somehow - I was sure he'd try and reach me, at least!" He had her number, after all. He could have called. Perhaps he thought she wouldn't listen... Perhaps he was right.
What is the point of talking if things are over?
When the new evil witches came to town and Cruella congratulated her on her "victory" over the Dark One and told her how miserable he was out there in the real world, she cried for the rest of the day. Not just over the bitter words and feelings - not just over her guilt and out of compassion for him. She cried over the memory of the day when she first saw those witches, and he saved her from them. She was so happy then. He looked at her so... tenderly and his teasing was so... toothless and his anger so... insincere. She felt his love, as yet unspoken, so strongly - that was when the feeling, that aching and sorely missed feeling of his pull on her, manifested itself for the first time.
Perhaps it was because of that memory that she felt unsettled and weird for the rest of the day. She seemed to feel him stronger, somehow. She could have sworn that he was somewhere around - somewhere near her. So when the pirate came to her with the idea of hiding the dagger more safely, she was eager to help. She wanted to hold the dagger again - wanted to use it again. She had to check whenever her feelings where telling her the truth.
They weren't. When she held the dagger in front of her and commanded the Dark One to face her at once, the only fellow who faced her was Hook - with a rueful smile on his dashing face, as if ready to say: "Sorry to disappoint, luv".
She drove back to the shop, hazy with grief and disappointment. She was so sure. She really felt him... Oh, what a silly, silly girl she was still, despite all her efforts to be strong.
Will wasn't around, but he left a red rose as a present for her - that was nice, though not very much like him. He rarely gave her anything apart from jokes and a sense of normality. The only person who ever gave her a red rose before was her husband. Whom she called a beast and whom she purged out of town, condemning him for life of grief and misery.
That day when he gave her that rose - she remembered it so vividly. He was in a good mood, her lizard-wizard, he was eager to talk. He asked her what she thinks of love, and she was too shy and too unsure of herself to voice what she felt - to say that, when she thinks of love, she thinks of him. What if she told him then? Would it have changed anything? Would they have been able to find a way to be together if they talked, really honestly talked to each other, instead of just loving blindly and tragically?
And what does it matter now, when things are over?
Hook came later to tell her he hid the dagger successfully, and to make her swear secrecy. She felt very funny, again, as they talked and as he touched her at the moment when they were giving their promises, and placed her hand on his heart. He seemed... Strange, solemn and sad, though he had no apparent reason to be so. He asked her about her new "romance", and she brushed him away - there was no reason to come into details. He was probably seeking reassurance: he was a man who lost his true love, and found another - with a woman who has also lost her true love. He wanted to hear about second chances, most probably. But she couldn't help him here. There was no question of true love between her and Will; no question of love at all, really.
Her true love was lost.
He moved on.
And, saying to Hook, "I will probably never be over him", she voiced it for the first time, for herself as well as for her chance listener.
She is not over him. She cannot move on. Not yet. May be not ever.
She made her choice, and it seemed to be the right one. But making a right choice doesn't mean finding peace.
She remembered His face, as she told him, many years ago, when he was making his right choice, a choice she couldn't understand and took for cowardice: "All you'll have is an empty heart and a chipped cup". She knew she'd see the same expression on her face if she looked into the mirror now.
She seemed to hear his voice now, saying to her those same words.
She went to his secret cupboard, and took the chipped cup out, and sat at his table for many hours, just holding it.
Knowing she'd never stop loving him.
Wishing he'd love her in return.
Exactly as she always did.
And then the next day, everything in her life changed. Upon the new crisis in town people came running to the shop, telling her they needed the dagger, and Hook's stunned face and ugly angry words let her and everyone else know that the man who took the dagger from her yesternight wasn't him.
It was her husband.
He came back for her. He found a way.
He did not move on.
He heard her say that she is not over him.
He left her the red rose... Of course it was him, who else?!
She realized she must look strange to them, for she appeared completely nonplussed by this great news. But she didn't care what they thought, these good people who weren't really her friends, who never really cared for him or for her and forgot all that he did for them so easily, and gloated openly when she joined them with her act of banishing him. It took her some effort to appear calm - to look like someone who doesn't care for the evil beast, too and can easily listen to treats to his person. It took her effort to hide irrational relief - deep, inner sense of justice when she realized that his dagger is with him now and this stupid false "power" over him is over: there is no temptation to use the damned thing any more. It took her effort to hide her inner glow, her instinctive admiration for him - his power, his cunning, his wits that brought him back here despite everything. She managed to mumble something pitiful about "believing he'd never deceive her again", and being wrong... She was honest then: he showed her, yet again, that he'd never lose his ability to surprise her.
But she wasn't sorry he tricked her. She was proud of him, even if she'd never admit it.
She thought him lost, yet he came back to her.
That had to mean something, hadn't it?
Yet he never approached her directly. Why not? Surely not because of her new suitor, such things never stopped him before - she remembered what he did to the fellow who dared to kiss Lacey once, all too vividly.
Something else was on his mind.
Something sat heavily upon his heart - so heavily that he didn't call to her, didn't let her feel his love. That felt akin to the time when he was kept prisoner by the wicked witch, and tried to distance himself from her, for her safety...
Something must be wrong, very wrong with him now if he is acting like that. And however eager she is to find out, to confront him, to talk out things that they should have talked out before, she'd keep her distance too, for now.
He is the Dark One, her husband, and she made him very angry, and she hurt him - as much as he hurt her.
Yet he came back to her, and she'd have to give him time to approach her in the way he chooses.
She owes him that much, or that little for the time when she wouldn't listen to him when he tried to talk to her. She owes him that much for kissing another man; owes him that much for letting go of hope and abandoning him in the middle of an empty road.
She owes him some patience for all the times when she rushed things without giving him any chance to explain himself.
She owes him the benefit of doubt.
She owes him some hope.
She is the wife of the Dark One still, and it's time she remembered that.
