Accusations and commands
When Zoso had been summoned the air went cold and he had been filled with a sudden sense of dread, the smell of sulfur filling the air. With Belle it seemed to become warmer, but only marginally so, and he felt calm inside. The air became filled with the scent of dust and roses, something he had long ago termed simply as 'Belle'. He expected her to appear in a plume of dramatically dark smoke, standing tall and in some hideous dress of Regina's, one that complimented her new scales. Something black, or maybe green. What he didn't expect was smoke of cornflower blue to swirl from the floor (his never swirled, merely poofed), and for her to appear kneeling and in chains. She was in the red deerskin outfit he had provided, her hair loose from its rough braid. Her hands were chained behind her back, both shoulders dislocated, and someone had weighted down her feet. Her head was bowed, blood dripping, presumably from her lips.
He had expected her to be snarling and snapping with all the rage of a cornered Dark One, especially now that she was wrapped in chains, but he found himself surprised. As he watched her he realised he could hear her sobs, and when she looked up it took his breath away. Somehow she managed to pull off the scales in a way he and Zoso never had, and it was still her beautiful face that gazed back at him. Her eyes were, if possible, even bluer than before, and her lips remained rosy and full. They were slightly parted and it was that, mixed with the tears on her cheeks and the desperation in her expression, that took his breath away. He knelt down, for the moment ignoring his knee, to her level, and reached out to grip her face. She flinched where she had never flinched from him before, and it was odd that this brave (and now powerful) woman would flinch from him, a cowardly, powerless spinner. But with her face no longer moving her could see that somebody had removed one of her teeth, a canine, and that was why she was bleeding.
But then he shook himself out of it. This was the woman that stole his power from him with a kiss, the one who planned with his greatest enemy to kill him! He released her face roughly, shoving it away from him and, ignoring her hurt and shocked expression said "Transport us both to the Great Hall immediately." She blinked at him, lost, but her magic was already following the command of the dagger. It literally danced around them, smothering them in blue, and in no time at all they were down in the hall. He stared at her, trying for emotionless and failing miserably, and instructed her to remove her chains, and rise. She did so, not understanding how she was free and he told her, out of pity mostly, but told himself it would have benefit, that she could fix her arms. With a harsh crack that resounded twice, her arms dangled more naturally at her sides. As punishment, however, he said, with the dagger outstretched, "You may not heal any of your other injuries or ailments without my expressed permission, and (because it was important he got this point across) you must heal any and all injuries I myself receive, including illnesses, and must not, under any circumstance, cause me any yourself." She nodded numbly at him, swaying on her feet.
She was utterly confused. What had happened? She had been at the Jellyfish, and now she was here, in the Great Hall. In fact, only a moment ago she was in his tower workroom. He healed her arms with his magic, and she was too dazed to hear what he said next, but from the tingling feeling down her spine she felt that it was a command to be followed. She wished he would heal her legs and her back too, because it felt like she'd hit water at a hundred miles an hour. And her mouth, because she was certain she had one less tooth than she should. She flicked her tongue over it, and found the gap. It was becoming difficult to remain upright, and as her knees buckled she wished she had a chair to sit on. It seemed Rumple had heard her request, since she didn't make it as far as the floor. The man himself now stood gazing at her, a dagger in his hand, and it took her a long moment to figure out what was different about him. "What happened to your scales? You aren't shiny anymore." Damn. That last part was supposed to stay in her head, and the whole thing had been slurred. His nostril twitched and his expression shifted, either in irritation or amusement, she couldn't tell which. He asked the room, or maybe the dagger, for a chair, and the one she always liked to see him sat in appeared behind him. He seemed surprised that the castle had provided his most comfortable chair. He sat regardless, finally at her level once more, and shifted closer.
"Don't you know the results of your own little trick, dearie? Didn't Regina tell you what that potion would do?" His expression was hard, but she couldn't call it cruel, not when his eyes were so soft. "Trick? What potion? Is Regina the dark woman with the cruel eyes?" He scowled at her, and grabbed at her hands. "Whatever it was you put on your lips, dearie, to steal my magic. And don't act like you don't know exactly who Regina is." She tried to pull away, but he managed to pull her hands up to her face, and she was startled by the contrast. One pair was large and rough, but softly skinned, the other small and delicate, but covered in pebbly scales. She'd never been this close to his hands before, or had such an opportunity to study his scales. It was with a start that she realised the pebbled hands were hers; it only became obvious when the others dropped away into his lap. His skin was completely human and hers, hers had more ridges than a crocodile. She blinked up at him, frowning. "The Dark One's curse is yours to bear now dearie. All the power in the world." She blinked at him again. Curse, what? Was this what her kiss had done, stolen his power away? She hadn't know that was what would happen. She thought the darkness would go, but the scales and the magic would remain. Wasn't that what he looked like? And now she was the Dark One?
"Why do you have that dagger?" That seemed like a safe question to ask, and she eyed the thing with mistrust. He waved it about before her. "Oh Regina didn't tell you about this then? This is the dagger that controls the Dark One, the most powerful weapon in the world. If you'd have stabbed me with it, I would have died and my magic would have become yours. You could have used it to control me, but now I use it to control you, your magic, and your actions." Belle moved from confusion, to anger, and into disappointment, loss and betrayal. "So you've basically stolen my free will, just because I kissed you?" He seemed surprised at her summary of the recent events, and gave a flourish of his hands, much like he used to. "Pretty much, dearie." He gave a grin, but it wasn't as harsh as it used to be. He didn't seem to mean it as much. She thought everything over for a moment, then said, in as even a tone as she could manage: "So why don't you kiss me again? If True Love's Kiss took your magic, then surely it could take mine too?" She'd barely reached the end of her sentence before he'd lunged off the edge of his seat, and was stood with his weight on his left leg, and the crooked dagger at her throat. "Oh that wasn't True Love's Kiss dearie. That was whatever magic or potion you and Regina put on your lips to transfer my magic to you. You probably want me to kiss you so whatever is left kills me." The way he leaned towards her reminded her of the moment he shook her, and she leaned back a little. She, foolishly, blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
"Why don't you just stab me with the dagger then?" He inwardly winced, but something told him that she caught it. "Because, dearie, controlling the Dark One is just as good as being the Dark One. Besides, I promised Bae I would break the curse if I found a way, and this solves that problem perfectly." Did she really think he'd kill her? He couldn't hurt her. He'd cursed at himself for days just for shaking her a little. He stared into her eyes, shockingly blue for ones contaminated by the curse, and like those of a cat, and he could practically see the cogs turning as she analysed what he'd said. He realised his mistake when she made to speak, and a shard of ice hit his heart. "Was Bae your son's name?"
He was immediately leaning back in his chair, glaring at her, wondering what he should do. He ran his finger over the blade, forming a plan, and a set of rules for Belle. "You will never speak that name to anyone for as long as this dagger is mine; you will tell no one I have a son unless I say you can. If, and when, we find my son, you will help me protect him for as long as you live. And yes, dearie, I say we because you are going to do whatever it takes to help me complete this curse and get him back to me." She stared at him a moment longer, and managed to focus on the part he wanted her to ignore. "Curse..?" He sighed deeply, and commanded her to go to her dungeon room. "But.." "Now, Belle!" With a glower she disappeared in another twirl of smoke, back to where she belonged.