Chapter Eighteen—"Calm Before the Storm"
The first two weeks after Prince Graham's birth were quiet. Surprisingly so, actually. Even the Witch's armies seemed willing to give them a break; Mulan reported no further attacks, and the few raids she sent soldiers out on went almost unopposed. Most of the residents in the Dark Castle voiced the opinion that the lack of resistance finally meant that the Witch's forces were overextended and on the ropes, but Bae wasn't so sure. Maybe it was that sixth sense of paranoia acting up again, or maybe he was just too cynical to believe anything would be this simple. Either way, he and Rumplestiltskin seemed to be the only ones wondering why things suddenly seemed to be looking up.
Still, plans for little Graham's christening were well underway, invitations going out to every monarch and important dignitary across the Enchanted Forest—heck, Snow White was even crazy enough to invite the Witch, provided she attended under a flag of truce. Then again, don't half the stories start with a monarch snubbing some evil magic user, and that's why their baby gets cursed? The last few decades of drama in the Enchanted Forest were well after Bae's time, but some things never did seem to change. It probably was wiser to invite the Witch, provided she came on her best behavior. And Snow was far from a fool.
Emma's mother, unfortunately, apparently didn't understand her own daughter very well, which was how Bae got stuck in the middle of the world's most uncomfortable conversation.
Emma's face was rather red by the time Bae and Henry walked in, having been told by Hook that Emma was in Graham's nursery but not that he was interrupting some mother-daughter argument time. "Look, it's not that I have anything against dresses, but I'm far from a princess—"
"Actually, that's exactly what you are," Snow cut her off.
"Well, technically, but—"
"No buts," her mother cut her off again. Had it not been for the fact that she was cradling baby Graham very tenderly, Bae would have called Snow's implacable expression frightening. As is, it was simply, well, unyielding. "You are a princess, Emma. You're the heir to two kingdoms."
"I don't want to be Queen of anything!" Emma squeaked, and Bae couldn't remember ever having seen her so frightened, even when facing down Cora or robbing a convenience store for the first time.
"It's not about what you want, Emma. It's about the responsibilities that your birth entails."
"I'm older than you are!" Emma protested. "And I'd make a horrible Queen. Just ask Neal—or Bae, whatever you are. We met when I was trying to steal the car he'd already stolen, for crying out loud!"
"I'm not getting into this," Bae protested even as both women turned to look at him, holding his hands up, palm out, as if to fend them off. "No way am I getting involved in this conversation."
"You were trying to steal an already stolen car?" Henry asked his mother, not helping at all. "You never told me that story! That's so cool."
Yeah, the kid was at the age where thieves and rebels were cool, wasn't he? No wonder why he liked Robin Hood so much. Those two were already getting along like a house on fire, much to Regina's pleasure. But maybe Bae could use that fascination, even if it was bad parenting. He turned to throw his son an exasperated look.
"I'll tell you that one later if you back me up here," he wheedled. "But I think this is a conversation that your mom and your grandmother need to have on their own, don't you?"
Henry shrugged. "I dunno. It seems kind of important."
"Thank you, Henry," Snow said, every inch the queen.
Bae and Emma groaned together. Henry, ever the honest little optimist, arched an eyebrow at his father.
"Don't you think it's important, Dad?" he asked, and wasn't that a loaded question.
"I'm just a spinner's kid from the Frontlands, Henry. This royalty thing is way beyond me," Bae retorted.
"Spinner?" Henry echoed curiously, and Bae cursed himself silently.
"Long story," he said hastily. He'd forgotten that history seemed to have forgotten his father's background, but Bae knew that it wasn't something Rumplestiltskin discussed. Given his own experience with obnoxious royals, it was probably best to let the lot of them think that Rumplestiltskin (and by extension, Bae) had come from better stock than the dirt poor peasantry. God, what will the Charmings think of that one? If Emma was getting lectures now on acting like a princess, what would happen if Bae tried to press his suit? Damn this world for being so class conscious and complicated. Still, he had to say something before Henry asked more. "I'll tell you some other time."
Henry deserved to know, at least, and Bae knew his father would agree with him. But then Henry hadn't grown up here, either, so he'd be a lot more open minded. And probably think it was cool, somehow.
Thankfully, Snow was too focused on Emma to jump down that rabbit hole. Putting Graham back into his gorgeously decorated crib, she straightened and looked at her daughter again. Regally.
"Emma, all I am asking is that you take a few lessons on proper etiquette. It's not much to ask. We've already got a gown that can be altered to fit you—and I know you'll look lovely in it. I just don't want you to be at a disadvantage, that's all."
Oh, Snow White was brilliant. Flat out brilliant. Emma, however, looked at Bae for backup.
"I'm just a kid from the system who happened to break a curse," she whispered, and he probably would have hugged her if Snow hadn't taken her hands tenderly.
"I bet you'll look great," he said instead, throwing her a crooked smile and a self-conscious shrug. Knowing Emma, she might hit him for that remark, but instead it got a watery smile in return. Man, this really is getting to her.
"It's not that," Emma muttered, still looking miserable. "It's—"
A pounding on the doors cut her off, and immediately, Graham started to cry. Snow said something absolutely un-queen-like under her breath as she picked up her now wailing baby, and Baelfire strode over to the doors. Tearing them open—nothing less would stop the banging, and in turn Graham's bawling—Bae found himself face to face with a very startled dwarf. Not having grown up anywhere near their time period, he had a hard time telling Snow White's seven pet dwarves apart, but he thought this one was Sneezy. Or maybe Dopey.
"What kind of idiot are you?" Bae hissed, gesturing at the baby as Snow tried desperately to soothe her son. Got Emma's temper, that one. Wonder where they both get it from such level-headed parents? "Who bangs on the nursery door loud enough to wake the dead?"
The dwarf flushed red. "I, uh, Prince James—I mean King David—sent me to tell Queen Snow that there's a herald at the gates. There's some soldiers, too. One of them has issued a challenge."
"A challenge?" Snow echoed immediately, handing Graham over to a startled Emma so that she could stride over. The queen's eyes were suddenly fierce, but that didn't overcome the sinking feeling in Bae's chest. "To whom?"
"King David," Sneezy replied. "The Buffalo-Leather Soldier has challenged him to single combat to end the war once and for all."
Thirty minutes later, Bae stood between his son and the woman he loved, listening to her parents discuss the pros and cons of David accepting this unexpected challenge. They were both in favor of ending the war as quickly as possible, of course; Snow didn't seem terribly excited to have the father of her newborn risking his life, but her straight-backed posture barely hinted at those misgivings. Whatever else she was, Emma's mother was one hell of a queen, and Bae respected her more and more by the moment. Despite Emma's objections to being styled a princess, she really was a lot like Snow, particularly now with her eyes blazing fiercely and fastened on her father.
"The Witch is here," Regina said unexpectedly, striding back into the great hall. Once the challenge had been made and enemy forces had arrived, the Evil Queen had headed up to the battlements to spy on the enemy. Although Philip was in temporary command of the soldiers stationed to protect the castle while everyone else was in this meeting, they all knew that the Dark Castle's strength lay in its magical defenses. So, it paid to send a sorcerer to gauge the enemy's ability to deal with them.
"She is?" David's eyebrows shot up, and then he grinned. "I guess they're serious, then."
Several people murmured in agreement, but oh, some of the spectators looked nervous, particularly King Hubert and Queen Leah, both of whom had been invited due to their rank but really weren't a part of this council. They did, however, have more experience with the Witch than most of Snow and Charming's inner circle, and Bae couldn't help noticing their unease.
Maybe that was why he could hold his silence no longer, and had to point out: "I'd say it's damn serious, since you already killed the guy you're supposed to be fighting. Let's not forget that little fact."
David grimaced. "Someone must have healed him before he could die."
"Not the Witch," Regina pointed out immediately.
"There were rumors that a woman saved the Buffalo-Leather Soldier," David replied thoughtfully just as Bae remembered the same thing. "Red haired, dressed in silver and black. I never believed it, but—"
"What did you say?" Rumplestiltskin interjected, speaking for the first time, and Bae turned to look at his father with everyone else. He was seated where most everyone else was standing, sprawled in a high-backed chair and the picture or relaxation, but his brown eyes had narrowed when David spoke. There was something in him that reminded Bae of a coiled spring. He was ready for anything—perhaps not physically, but certainly on a magical front.
He loved his father—always had, even when he was furious and heartbroken—but there were times Bae really wished that he understood what was going on behind that mild expression. Bae had spent two and a half centuries stuck in Neverland, never aging and never maturing, but Rumplestiltskin had lived those years. He'd changed enormously from the simple spinner he'd been, and not just in the terrifying ways that the curse had altered him in the beginning. Bae knew better than most that the native intelligence had always been there, but sometimes it was like his father's mind worked on a different level from everyone else's. Of course, Bae completely understood how a few centuries' perspective could impact the way you viewed the world, even if his had been stuck at fifteen. How much of a difference did it make to watch the world go by during those years? Experience had colored his father as much as the curse ever had, or maybe more.
"Some of our soldiers said that they saw a red haired woman in silver and black save the Buffalo-Leather Soldier," David repeated as Bae mused. "Since he's here, whoever that was must have healed him."
"Of course she did." Rumplestiltskin's expression darkened. When he spoke, his voice was sharp, more reminiscent of the Dark One than anything else. "And that, ladies and gentlemen, would be the Black Fairy. Danns' a'Bhàis. It seems she's joined our little war."
Belle flinched from his father's right, and Bae swallowed.
"How do you know?" Snow spoke up, sounding more curious than doubtful.
"Because I spent a year in her company, dear," Rumplestiltskin replied. "And not voluntarily."
Even Snow flinched when Rumplestiltskin threw that one out, referencing the year he'd been 'dead' while none of them knew where to look for him. No one spoke of what he'd endured because Bae's father seemed to prefer to act like it hadn't happened, but now the fact that the world's darkest fairy had managed to hold Rumplestiltskin for an entire year sent an undercurrent of fear racing through the room. Rumors about Rumplestiltskin's treatment at the Black Fairy's hands had spread quickly around the Grand Alliance, but Bae actually knew that the stories understated how bad things had been. Belle had pulled him aside to share some of the details with him because his father wouldn't, so he understood how the Black Fairy had been able to hold Rumplestiltskin, in addition to why she had wanted to.
Oddly enough, only his father seemed unaffected by everyone else's anxiety, and a slight smile made his lips twitch.
"You might say that I've come to know her well," Rumplestiltskin continued dryly. "And if she chose to heal this Buffalo-Leather Soldier, nothing good will come of that. Not for us."
"It's not like she can make him invincible," Emma pointed out warily. Then she glanced at Rumplestiltskin. "Can she?"
"She might have already." It was Regina who answered. "The Buffalo-Leather Soldier is standing with the Witch out there, but from what I could tell, there did seem to be some magic on him."
Bae grimaced and spoke up again, ignoring the dirty look King Hubert shot him for daring to intervene in a conversation properly belonging to his betters. Nope, he's never going to like me. Guess that means I don't have to care what he thinks. "Is it even worth fighting him, then? We already know that the Witch won't keep her word—look at the last parley she offered."
"I know," David sighed. "And yet…"
"Who are we if we don't try?" Snow finished for him. "Over half the kingdoms in the Enchanted Forest are still under the Witch's control. We can't ignore this opportunity to save them."
Heads nodded around the room, and Bae bit back a frown. Even if this wasn't some point of honor—which made royals do funny things—the odds of this challenge going downhill fast were high. Yes, there was an enormous potential gain, but only if their enemy was also feeling honorable. An exasperated sigh came from his side, and Bae was surprised to see Emma throw a frustrated glance his way, silently commiserating with what he'd said. He shot her a lopsided smile and a shrug, glad to see that he wasn't the only one who thought this foolish. Fortunately, when Emma spoke up, everyone listened to her like the princess she was.
"Look, I didn't grow up here, so maybe I'm missing something. But why should we bother with this if the Witch is going to cheat?"
Regina snorted, looking amused. "Evil always cheats."
"Because no one will believe in us if we don't try," Snow answered earnestly.
David nodded, agreeing immediately. "I can't very well say that I was afraid to fight in case the enemy cheated. No soldier would ever follow me again." He smiled wryly. "Heck, I wouldn't follow me."
Every royal in the room looked satisfied, and even Bae couldn't argue with David's more practical logic. The world was just plain stupid sometimes, and the Witch had pushed them into a corner with this one. If David even appeared to be afraid to face the Buffalo-Leather Soldier in combat, the Grand Alliance might start to fracture. After all, King David was their war leader. He was the one that armies loved to follow, not Prince Philip, Mulan, or even Baelfire. They were all competent enough, but David was the charismatic leader that held the army together. And now he's going to risk his life. How freaking brilliant is that? He'll probably wind up as a martyr when this bastard kills him, but he'll still be dead.
If there was one thing Bae had learned in Neverland, it was that fights against an invincible opponent never turned out well.
"Of course you need to fight this challenge, dearie," his father spoke up again, shattering the silence. "But I trust you'll not be adverse to an advantage of your own?"
"What, are you going to make him invincible?" Emma demanded sarcastically.
"No." Surprisingly, Rumplestiltskin answered that straight, without even a chuckle. "You wouldn't like the cost of that magic. Or what it does to you in the long run."
"Then what do you have in mind?" David asked curiously, but Rumplestiltskin was on his feet before the king finished voicing the question, striding over to a set of brackets near the far wall.
A broadsword sat in those brackets, parallel to the floor and set well apart from everything around it. Like most of the treasures in the Dark Castle, it had remained untouched during the Grand Alliance's occupation. Even Belle didn't know what magical properties most of objects Rumplestiltskin had collected over the years possessed, and they'd all been loath to touch something lest it curse them, or worse. So the sword—useful though it might have been in a war where they could always use another weapon—sat gathering dust until Rumplestiltskin's return, upon which he'd promptly ignored it and almost everything outside his work tower. Now, however, he lifted the sword easily in his right hand, swinging it in a short arc until the point faced David. The sorcerer smiled.
"Excalibur, of course."
"Excalibur?" the king echoed, and then sighed in annoyance. "Come on. I've played this game before."
Rumplestiltskin chuckled. "Not the little bauble you tried to use to fool your darling True Love, dearie. Excalibur. The real deal."
He tossed the sword, and Bae shivered while he watched the silver-colored blade flipped end over end, floating through the air. David caught it easily, but not before an odd shimmer filled the great hall. That sword was magic, old and deep. David must have felt that, too, because a long moment passed before he could tear his eyes off of the blade.
"You had your legends a bit mixed up when you told Snow that Excalibur could only be used by a kingdom's true heir," the sorcerer told the king. "A sword isn't that picky. But Excalibur is capable of cutting through any enchantment the Black Fairy has put on her Buffalo-Leather Soldier. It'll even kill the Witch, if you can get close enough to do the deed."
That got everyone's attention, until Rumplestiltskin grinned wickedly. "Or the Black Fairy, but I know she won't give you the opportunity."
"Excalibur is a secondary power," Belle breathed, and Bae's father's smile softened when it turned on her.
"Right in one. Created by Merlin over fifteen hundred years ago." He turned back to David, brown eyes sharp. "That's a loan. I'm going to want it back."
"Right." David obviously still wanted to stare at the sword; by his side, Snow was looking at it in awe, too. Moments earlier, Excalibur had looked old and dirty, but now the sword seemed to shine with power. Almost every eye in the room was fastened on it, Bae's included. Hell, even Emmalooked pretty shocked, but then, Excalibur was probably the most famous sword in any world.
And of course, his father had had it collecting dust for centuries.
The wards were weaker than she had expected.
On the surface, that should have been pleasing. Weaker defenses would be easier to breach, when the time came, and the day would indeed arrive when she came forth to reclaim her servant. Knowing she could overpower them should have been something of a balm to the anger over losing him in the first place—but instead she found herself disappointed. Weak wards on a mountain castle were beneath her old friend. She wished to defeat him, of course, but never without fighting a battle worth winning. Danns had won in the end, and yet obviously Merlin had preserved something unexpected beneath the curse she had forced upon him. Unlike her sister, she enjoyed surprises, so—
Oh. Fascinating. The wards were weaker, but there was a subtle bent to them. Even when she'd started probing, quietly and delicately, the threads piecing the defenses together slipped free of her grasp, slipping away before she had a hold on them. Of course, Danns didn't intend to breach the wards today—there would be no point in that, not when her other pieces were playing their parts so well—but she had meant to lay a handful of traps of her own, to leave a few threads behind that she could exploit at her leisure. Yet the wards proved resistant, elusive and layered in ways she had not anticipated. There was skill behind their crafting, skill and subtlety, both of a type she'd never encountered before.
Danns' a'Bhàis shivered, feeling the distant rumble of power beneath those defenses. And then she smiled.
Oh, this wasn't Merlin's doing. She had no doubt that her old friend lay inside the (former and future) Dark One, but this was clearly Rumplestiltskin at work. Looking at the multi-layered magic on the castle made her reevaluate her opinion of the man she'd tortured; she had realized he was clever, but this was something else, entirely. Merlin had been all power and stubbornness, firm in his convictions and forthright in his beliefs. Rumplestiltskin, she had realized a few days into the year she had held him, was something else entirely.
He'd not wasted time, either. Or perhaps Merlin had not, and her old friend was merely hiding within the other man, biding his time and influencing Rumplestiltskin only as required. One of them had certainly come to grips with the original power Danns knew so well—and that was undoubtedly Merlin. She'd grown to know Rumplestiltskin well enough to appreciate the frightened mess she had left him in, and doubted he had the mental capacity to wrap his mind around such things without help, or at least not so very soon. Clever though he was, he was not cut from the same cloth as Merlin, not built to withstand decades of pain before giving in. She had broken Merlin, shaped him and turned him from a brave man into a slave to his own rage. Rumplestiltskin would have been child's play had that younger sorceress and her companions not rescued him.
There would be time for that. For everything. Smiling again, she watched the castle's gates open and a quartet of figures stride out. They could not see her. Danns stood in the shadows, buried deeply within the trees and there as an observer only. Even Zelena did not realize her mistress was present as she waited for the "Grand Alliance's" hero-king to come out and meet their champion. The duel had been Zelena's idea, of course; she was growing tired of all-out war and—
He was one of them. Walking to the right of that king—and oh, didn't that bring up memories!—and listening to the conversation the other three shared. The king and the other two were unimportant; the young woman was likely the one they called the savior, for she wasn't her dark-haired mother. She was vaguely interesting only on account of her latent magical talent and the way destiny seemed to dog her shadow, but the dark haired man walking to her left was forgettable. Oh, he was older than he had any right to be, but still unremarkable. That boy was the wary one in the bunch, his eyes flickering around cautiously as soldiers from inside the castle walls trotted out to fill positions mirroring the Witch's forces on the edge of the tourney area, but he wasn't important.
Rumplestiltskin, however, was. But what caught her eye about him was not the way he crackled power, because he didn't. Merlin would have, would have been a beacon of magic striding across the field, daring anyone to cross his chosen king and face the consequences. Rumplestiltskin, however, was more…elusive. The power wasn't muted; no, it was contained, leashed, and ready to strike at a moment's notice for all that he looked relaxed. Watching him made her heart beat faster. Yes, she had suspected correctly. Merlin was in there, and she looked forward to reuniting with her old friend.
He'd insisted on accompanying Charming at the last minute, feeling the whisper-soft presence of fae magic at the back of his mind, probing the defenses he'd layered around the castle. Rumplestiltskin hadn't felt that magic in two months , but he would have known it anywhere. She was here.
So he walked out with Charming, Bae, and Emma, making it an odd sort of family trip out to a duel to the death. Part of him wanted to laugh at the thought, but Rumplestiltskin supposed that he could have chosen worse companions. Charming was resolute, of course, every inch the heroic warrior king, right in his element the way he'd never been in Storybrooke. David Nolan's insecurities had long since vanished. Emma was the opposite, restless and desperately trying not to show her nerves. Their savior hated situations she couldn't control, and Rumplestiltskin could feel the determination rolling off her in waves. Bae, however, was somewhere in the middle, laid back and utterly adaptable. His eyes were alert, watching for trouble, but unlike Emma, Bae seemed to be completely at ease.
It wasn't the first time that Rumplestiltskin realized how very much his son had grown into his role here in the Enchanted Forest, and he was so very proud of him. Bae had done better for himself than Rumplestiltskin might ever have dreamed—he'd always known that his boy was brilliant and would succeed at whatever he chose to do, but the their background always presented an undeniable handicap. Upward mobility in the Enchanted Forest wasn't what it had been in the Land Without Magic, where even a poor man could become a world leader. But the Enchanted Forest had never worked like that, and inequity between classes had simply been a fact of life for as long as Rumplestiltskin could remember. Someone who bucked society's norms just wasn't normal.
The fact that Rumplestiltskin managed to completely defy conventions was often ignored by anyone important enough to care, particularly since most of them just plain didn't know his background these days. Sorcerers formed a social class all of their own, anyway, with the more powerful ones moving in the most rarified circles and associating with monarchs easily. But that wasn't terribly surprising; most magic users actually came from the upper classes to begin with. People like Rumplestiltskin (peasant born and bred) or even Cora (a tradesman's daughter) were the exceptions to every unwritten rule. Regina fit the mold far better than they did; she was the daughter of a prince and royalty, though distant, in her own right. Most sorcerers came from the unexpectedly gifted children of nobles, or children of other magic users. The lower class magic users, hedge witches/wizards, small town healers, midwives, and such, were a breed apart from the greater sorcerers, and they didn't move in the same social circles, either.
Bae had been destined to be a spinner or weaver because of his father's chosen trade, or a foot soldier if he'd proven less talented at that than Rumplestiltskin suspected he would have. But those would have been his only options. He would never have been allowed to be an officer in any army, let alone command one, and his relationship with Emma would never have happened in a million years. Now, as the son of a sorcerer he would have had a lot more choices, yet he still wouldn't have been able to be who he was now. Their world wouldn't have allowed it.
I suppose that sojourn to the Land Without Magic might have been good for all of us, Rumplestiltskin mused, his mind tripping along the various paths that the use of the Dark Curse had driven their world down. He didn't particularly care to See any of them at the moment, and pushed the small visions aside, but it still was interesting to contemplate how Regina's curse would continue to change their world. Perhaps the stagnant nature of the Enchanted Forest would finally be overcome by lessons people had learned over almost three decades in another world. Or perhaps—
"You've had this sword for years, haven't you?" Charming asked, interrupting Rumplestiltskin's thoughts.
"Of course."
The King shot him an exasperated look. "You couldn't have mentioned that back when I was looking for something to inspire Snow?"
"You didn't ask," he shrugged, letting an innocent smile play over his lips as he remembered Snow White coming to him, so full of her confidence and ready to go to war against Regina. She'd been so shocked when he'd destroyed that fake sword Charming had stuck into a stone (though he'd been impressed; who would expect such innovation from a shepherd?). And then he'd snatched her mother's necklace from her as payment for wasting his time.
He should probably give that back. Rumplestiltskin knew exactly where it was, stuck in a chest in one of the Dark Castle's many storerooms. He vaguely remembered Snow protesting that the necklace had belonged to her mother, so it would make a good peace offering. Not because he was feeling nice, of course. The way things promised to go over the next months, he'd probably need all the goodwill he could gather from his grandson's relatives, which would make returning the necklace a worthy investment.
"You knew what I was looking for." Charming glared, but Rumplestiltskin didn't detect any actual anger in the expression.
"I had confidence that you'd find something," he replied lightly. And it had been important that Charming do so, to let his growing relationship with Snow develop still more. They'd needed a challenge to their love, one they had to overcome, and Charming's white lie had fit that bill nicely.
"I'm sure you did," the king grumbled. "Do you ever not?"
Unwittingly, his eyes found Bae's. "I have my moments," Rumplestiltskin murmured, just as magic washed over him.
Not responding to the feather-light touch took all the self-control he had; the urge to lash out was overwhelming. But this fight was to take place under a flag of truce…and he was willing to bet that the Black Fairy thought she'd been subtle enough that he ought not have noticed the tiny magical scan. Let her think I don't know, he decided, forcing back memories of fear and pain. Two could play at the manipulation game. He'd content himself with scanning the challenge field for any other spells, ones that would give their enemy an edge or undermine the parley itself.
"So, how exactly does this work, anyway?" Emma interjected, looking at her father.
"We meet on neutral ground," Charming replied, gesturing at the cordoned off area they were approaching. Soldiers from the castle and belonging to the Witch already ringed the area; standing at ceremonial positions dictated by years of such foolish displays. Rumplestiltskin had never really understood the urge royals had to stake an entire war on the outcome of one small duel, but the peasant lurking in him was always grateful when he saw it happen. A fight to the death between champions meant that less lowborn foot soldiers would die while the important folk duked it out over who got control of whatever they were fighting for. Charming, however, was continuing to explain to the only princess in the Enchanted Forest who probably agreed with Rumplestiltskin's assessment of the situation. "Each of us brings three companions. The soldiers from both sides will keep anyone else from interfering. And then we fight until one of us yields or dies."
"Can you yield in a fight to the death?"
"If you want the other guy to kill you, sure." That was Bae, whose cynicism mirrored his father's. "Excalibur or no, David, I still think this is a dumb idea."
"Dumb or not, I've got to do it," Charming replied. "Even if the Witch doesn't keep her end of it."
"Which we know she won't," Bae pointed out mildly.
"Why the hell is it that the good guys are supposed to be honorable when evil can cheat all it wants?" Emma demanded, and of course she looked at Rumplestiltskin. Well, glared at him, anyway.
"Don't ask me, Princess"—oh, and that title made Emma bristle; he'd have to use it when he wanted to annoy her—"I've always been a believer in keeping my promises. No one will trust you if you don't, and that does tend to make people less likely to make a deal with you."
Emma started to say something else, and then cut herself off. "Oh. Wow. She really is green, huh?"
"You should have seen him before," Charming muttered, gesturing at Rumplestiltskin, who chuckled.
"Maybe it keeps her from getting sunburned?" Bae suggested jokingly.
"Magic will do that to you if you're not careful," Rumplestiltskin addressed Emma, gesturing at the Witch, who stood on the opposite side of the tourney area with the Buffalo-Leather Soldier and two others. "And that is why I manage the cost of magic so carefully. Exterior changes are always amplified on the inside; what you can't see is what she's done to her own soul."
My soul had enough damage from the curse; how would I have looked if I'd not been so careful after those early days? Rumplestiltskin could hardly remember what Zoso had looked like when his predecessor hadn't been using his human glamour, but the vague memories he'd inherited from his other predecessors indicated that the Dark One could look a lot worse than Rumplestiltskin ever had.
"How come Regina looks so normal, then?" Emma wanted to know.
Rumplestiltskin snorted. "Regina's vain," he quipped, and then turned a little more serious. "And the root of her evil had always been born of her pain. She was cautious, Regina, even when she was at her worst. And she rarely embraced the worst she could be."
Much to my past frustration, though now I'm somewhat glad for that. What kind of odd world did they live in where the Evil Queen and the former Dark One were the best sorcerers that the "good" side had? There were times Rumplestiltskin wondered if the irony might drive him mad.
The Buffalo-Leather Soldier stepped away from the Witch before their conversation could continue, striding out into the roped-off area. He was indeed a monster of a man, taller than David by at least six inches, and clad in simple leather armor that only made him look more threatening. He bore a enormous sword that was almost half again the length of Excalibur, and made hefting it look easy. The Soldier looked the part of the legendary warrior he was, wearing that look of eagles that storybook artists always liked to paint. Straight-backed and proud, one would have thought he was supposed to be the hero of the piece instead of the champion for the villains. Not far away, the Witch smiled as she watched Charming stop and take in his opponent. The king didn't show a bit of fear, of course—Rumplestiltskin would never have set him up as the hero if he was that type—but even then it was obvious that David hadn't expected the Buffalo-Leather Soldier to look like this.
He was coated in magic, too, with tight threads of power shimmering in the afternoon sunlight if you knew where to look. The Soldier clearly didn't need spells to make him faster or stronger, but he'd clearly been brought back from the edge of death, and that sort of magic lingered. But there was fae magic on him, too, protective and tricky, designed to keep any normal weapon from harming him in the unlikely occurrence David might manage to get a blow in.
"David of Eltaria," the Buffalo-Leather Soldier bellowed. "I, Sir Gingalain of Wales do hereby challenge you to single combat! Let the victor accept the surrender of the other's forces, and let us end this war once and for all!"
Well. Wasn't that interesting. The Buffalo-Leather Soldier turned out to have a name, and he referred to Charming only as a monarch of Snow White's kingdom. Did that mean George was still running around and trying to claim his kingdom? Rumplestiltskin wouldn't have been surprised. And yet…why did he recognize Sir Gingalain? Something in the back of his mind stirred, knowledge buried within Merlin's memories. What was he missing?
"I accept your challenge!" Charming replied immediately, squaring his shoulders and drawing his own sword.
"Good luck, Dad," Emma said quietly, and Charming turned to kiss her on the cheek. That gave Rumplestiltskin a moment to turn his eyes away from the Witch—who was smiling at him, quite predictably—and catch David's arm before the king could walk out.
"Excalibur won't make you invincible, dearie, and it won't make you stronger. You'll have to use that brain of yours and strike where it counts," he said softly. "Understand?"
David nodded. "I understand." Then the young king smiled. "Besides, I owe you the sword back, right? I can't give return it if I'm dead."
With that grin, David strode out to meet the most legendary swordsman and general in the history of the Enchanted Forest. Emma grimaced and Bae frowned, but a smile played out on Rumplestiltskin's lips. Oh, he'd chosen well when he'd decided which infant to hand King George, all those years ago. He'd known the second one would matter, and here was the moment where David would prove that.
A/N: So, several Arthurian references in this chapter, and things are heating up! Bonus points to those of you who realize who Sir Gingalain's mother is and who recognize the name I pegged on Snow's kingdom, which is a nod to a fabulous series of fairy tale books. Now onto my question: do you think Rumplestiltskin is right that Merlin's soul is long dead, or is the Black Fairy right and Merlin is only waiting?
Thank you all for reading! Next up is Chapter 19: "Dark Winds Rising", in which David duels the Buffalo-Leather Soldier, Mulan faces off with the Black Knight, and the fae begin to come out of the shadows.