Chapter Nineteen—"Dark Winds Rising"
At the same moment where David's sword first clashed against that of the Buffalo-Leather Soldier, Mulan was flat on her back and fighting for her life.
A giant of a different man bore down on her, his black-bladed broadsword crashing down against her own lighter blade, and it was all Mulan could to do keep her head from parting from her shoulders. There had barely been time to scrawl a quick communication to the Dark Castle when the Black Knight had arrived to challenge her, though she had been sure to send them the note—and wait for a response—before stepping out to meet him. Oddly enough, he'd wanted to fight Mulan, not someone more important, and though she was flattered by the attention, she sensed that something was not quite right. However, the Black Knight had left her with little choice in the matter, and if King David had wanted her to refuse the challenge, he would surely have told her so. Or returned himself, now that his son had been safely born.
Besides, Mulan had never met a swordsman who could match her. The bigger they were, the harder they fell, and looking up at a black armored monster who was a foot and a half taller than her did nothing to intimidate Mulan. She'd entered the fight with confidence, only to find that the Black Knight was far faster than she'd expected—and far more prone to cheating.
She would have beaten him easily if one of his followers hadn't shot an arrow into her left knee, and now battle raged around the two of them. The Black Knight's dishonorable conduct had invalidated the terms of their challenge, at which point the Grand Alliance's army had rushed in. Yet the two of them were still locked in a duel that no one else was fast enough to join, leaving Mulan to limp her way through each movement, still trying to use her greater agility against her opponent.
Blocking yet another heavy swing and rolling to her feet, she reflected that her tactics were not working so very well.
Emma shifted nervously, trying to contain her own fury. Twenty minutes in—unlike most of the fools around here, she was still wearing her watch, though matching it up on Enchanted Forest time was challenging enough that she'd stopped trying—neither challenger had managed to strike a blow. Not one. Her father and the Buffalo-Leather Soldier were both sweating and breathing hard, but they were still dancing around one another with ridiculously large swords, moving gracefully and quickly enough that their limbs and swords often turned into one silver-hued blur.
Across from them, the Witch and her companions stood motionless, but the sly smile on that green face was already starting to get on Emma's nerves. How was the Witch so confident? From where Emma was standing, the duelists seemed pretty evenly matched. Neither had so much as managed to cut the other so far, yet the Witch was still standing there smugly. What was it that Regina had said? That the Black Fairy—whoever she was—could have made the Buffalo-Leather Soldier impervious to harm. Was that what was going on? It was hard to tell if any of David's blows had come close enough to hurt the Soldier. What if Gold had been wrong and Excalibur wasn't enough?
"Does it usually take this long?" she finally asked Neal—Baelfire—trying to bite back her impatience. She was still getting used to the whole name change thing.
"Hell if I know. I don't exactly come from royalty," her ex replied with a shrug.
She glared at him. Somehow, Bae (she needed to learn to call him that, no matter how weird it felt) had gone and become friends with her father while she was gone, and Emma found herself strangely comforted by that. Was it because she didn't want Neal to be stuck here alone, or was it because she liked her Dad and had once thought of him as her friend, too? It was so confusing.
"No, you're a car thief," she shot back, just to see what he'd say.
"That, too," he chuckled, but it made Gold's head turn.
"Car thief?" her ex's father echoed, one eyebrow going up.
"Yeah, that's a long story," Neal replied. "We met when Emma tried to steal the car I'd already stolen. I was sleeping in the back seat, and I woke up. Our adventures pretty much started there."
Gold's eyebrows practically mated with his hairline. "That's hardly an auspicious—"
"You're one to talk," Neal cut him off. "You got Belle in a deal, Pop."
Emma didn't know that story, but she was too surprised by Gold's chuckle to laugh with them. The relationship between these two really had changed; she remembered Neal running from Gold and then endless amounts of tension when Gold lacked the good grace to die. Of course, Neal had been entitled to be furious with his father if he wanted to, but all the drama had made her worry for Henry—not that there'd been much time for worrying back in Storybrooke as they rushed from one crisis to another. No wonder her love life was so messed up! She'd lost Neal—Bae, dammit!—found him again, told him she loved him, and then told him she didn't want to love him. And then there was Hook, who could have stepped right out of the pages of some cheap romance novel, charming, handsome, and so easy to fall for.
But she couldn't talk to him the way she could talk to Neal, couldn't bicker with him so comfortably or imagine Hook coming along to keep her grounded while her father fought for his life. Had Hook offered, Emma probably would have asked one of the dwarves to come instead. She didn't want Hook to see her this nervous over losing a parent who she'd really only known for less than two years. At least Neal understood how much life had messed her up.
Turning her mind back to the present, Emma looked at Gold again. "So, is this normal?"
"Not exactly my forte, either," was the immediate response. The bastard shrugged casually, despite the fact that his eyes were still scanning everything but the duel. Had he watched it for one moment? "But I'd expect so."
"What are you doing?" she demanded, looking back at the duel. Emma didn't really know much about sword fighting, but her father seemed to be lighter on his feet than the Soldier. The bigger man was fast, too, though his greater reach seemed to give him less of an advantage than Emma would have expected. David was able to dance out of the way of most blows, blocking only those that he could not.
Cut. Thrust. Block. Thrust. Parry. The dance continued, one step at a time, moving blurrily fast and then agonizingly slow. Then David drew back and waited, breathing hard. The Soldier did the same, and the pair stood facing one another for almost a minute. What were they doing? Emma would never have had the patience to stand there like that, just watching her opponent and waiting. Suddenly, they moved as one, leaping into the fight again, swords sparking and glittering in the afternoon sunlight.
"Making sure that our friend Zelena doesn't try anything," Gold replied easily, and even as he spoke, Emma felt a shiver race down her spine. Something sparked at the edge of her mind, something familiar.
"You're working magic again."
Gold chuckled again even as Neal snorted. "I'm breathing, dearie."
"Which is to say, yes," her ex quipped, smiling wryly at Emma. "Don't take it personally. I'm not sure that he knows how to stop."
"Yeah, I've noticed," she muttered, watching as David ducked under another thrust from the Soldier and finally stepped in close to the taller man.
He moved too fast for Emma's eyes to follow, and suddenly Excalibur came up, lightning fast, and went straight through the leather armor that the Soldier wore. David withdrew the legendary sword just as quickly, leaving behind a sizeable, bloody hole in the Soldier's chest. The giant of a man fell in a heap, his sword rattling out of his hand and bouncing away from David. It cartwheeled across the field until the blade rolled to a stop not too far from where the Witch was standing.
Well, at least that finally wiped the smug look off of her face.
"Don't even try it, dearie," Gold's voice rang out as he stepped forward.
Emma had never felt particularly threatened by the slight man, but there was something in his posture that set warning bells off in her head. He stood casually enough, his palms open and hands spread slightly away from his body. It was an utterly unthreatening stance, yet that same shiver rolled down Emma's spine once more as power crackled through the air. This, Emma realized, was Rumplestiltskin. This was the man—or monster—who her parents had feared so much, who could make even Regina back down and had managed to scare the Blue Fairy away.
"Try what?" The Witch's expression was all innocence, and her smile was downright wicked.
"Walk away while you still can, Zelena," the sorcerer warned her.
"I think I liked you better before you broke your curse," she purred, moving forward a few steps, her long skirts trailing over the grass. She stopped just inches away from the growing pool of blood around the Soldier; David had stepped back warily, watching her—but Emma's father was still stuck between the Witch and Gold. "You're so very…human now. I preferred your darkness, Rumplestiltskin."
Gold laughed. "Oh, there's still plenty of darkness left, dear. Don't underestimate that." He held a finger up with a flourish, but the impish mannerisms looked more dangerous than lighthearted to Emma. The sorcerer continued, his voice a little high pitched and almost mocking: "But—as I've always been a man of my word—I'll offer you the opportunity to keep yours. Surrender your armies, as you promised you would do."
"Now why would I do a thing like that?" the Witch laughed.
And then she vanished in a cloud of green smoke. Emma groaned. Then the several hundred soldiers who'd accompanied the Witch rushed forward to attack.
"Told you so," Neal muttered.
The battle ended quickly enough, Grumpy supposed, even if everything had gone straight to hell even faster than that. He'd told Mulan not to accept the Black Knight's challenge, but she had to go and be a hero. Some people, he supposed, were just that type. Come to think of it, I know far too many of them. Sighing, Grumpy rolled his eyes and went back to work.
Some people thought it was odd to have a dwarf and Storybrooke's former town drunk in charge of treating the wounded, but he was actually rather good at it. Between Grumpy and Astrid (who was determined not to be known as Nova now that she'd given up on being a fairy), they did a pretty damn good job, if he said so himself. Astrid was pretty good at healing—it was pretty much the only magic she managed to do most of the time—and he knew a thing or two about patching up cuts and bruises. If something came up that they couldn't handle, Astrid had her own personal tablet with which to write Tink, and so far they'd managed pretty well. And if the wounded wanted to complain about Grumpy's bedside manner, well, that was no skin off of his back. He really didn't care what they thought, anyway.
Case in point: now.
"You're an idiot," he told Mulan gruffly, tightening the splint around her broken right arm. It was a good thing the fool girl could use her sword with either hand, otherwise she'd have never defeated the Black Knight.
"It worked, didn't it?" she retorted defensively.
He rolled his eyes. "Not if you were trying to avoid a battle, sister. In that case, fighting with the Black Knight was a spectacular failure."
"We won," their general insisted.
"Yeah, well, it was still stupid."
He was glad Mulan was all right, of course. The crazy warrior girl was always really nice to Astrid, who had something of a hard time making friends. People usually didn't know what to do with her since she'd decided not to be a fairy (or a nun, which threw some former residents of Storybrooke off kilter, too), and sometimes that made them needlessly cruel. Mulan, however, didn't care what Astrid had been, and never accidentally called her Nova. She just accepted Grumpy's love for who she was, and that endeared Mulan to Grumpy the way nothing else would.
"It worked," Mulan repeated stubbornly.
"Stupid works sometimes, okay?" Grumpy grumbled, shrugging his shoulders. "Now keep that arm in the sling until Tink can get back here, okay? We don't need you breaking this one in a third place. This time."
Mulan had to be the worst patient ever. This was the fourth time in as many weeks that she'd succeeded in breaking a major bone, and unlike normal people, she usually managed to do more damage to the injury before Tink could show up and heal her. Sometimes Grumpy wondered if it was because she and Tink had become friends, and breaking things gave her more time to spend with the fairy, but he knew that wasn't really the case. Mulan was just plain hard on her body, and it was his self-assigned task to make fun of her for it. Besides, mocking her passed the time, and Mulan didn't take it personally. Instead, she just smiled tightly at him and shrugged a one-shouldered shrug.
"I'll be fine," Mulan reassured him. "See to the others."
"That'd be easier if you stopped trying to destroy yourself, sister." Usually, Astrid would have told him to be nice by now, and that realization made Grumpy twist around as Mulan stood to walk away.
Where was Astrid? The hospital tent had better lighting and was better ventilated than most, but it was still a tent, and the sun was going down. That made the interior a bit murky, but squint though he did, Grumpy couldn't see Astrid anywhere. Scowling, he headed towards the back of the tent. Contrary to what Mulan seemed to think, the warrior woman had been the last patient Grumpy had to deal with (because what other crazy woman would insist on waiting when her arm was broken in two places?), and he was looking forward to taking a break before dinnertime. The battle had left him bone weary, and if he could only find Astrid—
A yelp startled Grumpy into motion before he fully comprehended the fact that his love had made the sound. It was followed by a scream, and he shoved his way through the tent and out the back entrance.
"Astrid!"
He arrived just in time to see her crumble to the ground, with a slender, dark haired man looming over her. Astrid's face was frighteningly blank, her brown eyes staring emptily up at the orange and red sky. Grumpy froze. She wasn't moving…
"Who the hell are you?" Grumpy demanded, his heart hammering in his chest. He was sure she was fine. She had to be fine.
The dark haired man looked up at him, a smile crossing angular features. "Norco," he replied pleasantly. "I am Norco."
Obviously the name was supposed to mean something to Grumpy, but he was too busy staring at Astrid. "Get away from her," he growled, drawing his sword.
Norco laughed, long fingers sweeping through the air. Without warning, Grumpy's sword vanished right out of his hand. The magic sent an odd chill through him, dark and nasty, and Astrid still wasn't moving. Unarmed or no, Grumpy took a few steps forward, his hands clenching into fists. Whoever Norco was, he'd be happy to kill this bastard with his bare hands if that's what it took to protect Astrid.
"Swords'll do you no good against the fae," Norco half-whispered, half-sighed, looking very self-satisfied. Then he laughed merrily and disappeared.
By the time Grumpy reached Astrid's side, she wasn't breathing.
"I'll make a deal with you, dear," he said by way of greeting, and Regina turned to scowl at her old teacher as he walked into the library.
Rumplestiltskin quirked her a smile that only made Regina's expression darken still further. She'd been hoping for some quiet time with Robin—Roland was off with Little John for a few hours, and Henry was off with his own father—and even though the library technically belonged to Rumplestiltskin, she'd expected him to be off romancing Belle or something. He seemed to do a lot of that, for which she was personally rather grateful, since it got him out of her hair. But oh, no. Now he had to come waltzing in here, throwing a comment like that her way as if she gave a damn.
"Concerning what?" Regina snapped.
Robin threw her an amused look, obviously hearing the complaint she hadn't voiced, but Regina glared back. Rumplestiltskin had always brought out the worst in her, and the last thing she wanted was her old mentor deciding that he wanted to pick on her lover.
"The Witch, of course," the other sorcerer replied as if he'd missed the byplay between them. Right. Because he misses so much. Bah.
Rumplestiltskin folded himself into a seat across from the couch she and Robin occupied, his movements reminding Regina vividly of the imp she'd first met, rather than the so very controlled man he'd become as Mr. Gold. It was odd now, watching him after he was no longer the Dark One; some mannerisms remained while others vanished, and sometimes he seemed solidly Gold rather than Rumplestiltskin. Yet the power behind the sharp-edged face was still potent, even if it was different than it had been. She'd meant to pin him down on that topic after the Blue Fairy had left, but one thing had led to another, and next she knew, the Buffalo-Leather Soldier had shown up. Charming had fought that duel just the day before, and Regina had just now come up for air.
Spending time with Robin had seemed so much more pleasant than talking to Rumplestiltskin, so she'd opted to do the former instead of badgering her old mentor. It was a good choice, too. His curse might be broken, but he's still a pain in the ass.
"Oh, of course," she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "You want to be more specific, Rumple? Some of us have things we want to do today, and I assure you that spending time with you is not on my list."
He laughed, of course. The jerk. "Regina, I'm wounded," Rumplestiltskin quipped, a sardonic smile twisting his face up before he turned serious. "It seems that we're duplicating efforts. This war of ours is only going to get longer if you and I don't discuss how we need to go about this."
"Ours." The word startled out of her before Regina could catch it. "You're really signing on to help, aren't you?"
"Did I imply otherwise?"
"No, but you didn't straight out say it, either, and I know what a tricky bastard you are," she retorted. Neverland came to mind on that front, where he'd hared off on his own and left her with the Charmings. And Hook. Because having a pirate along made everything so much better. Particularly when he was busy hanging all over Emma.
"True enough." He waved a hand dismissively. "But—contrary to my usual inclinations—it would appear that I'm in this for the long haul."
"Would 'appear' or you are?" Regina demanded, cutting him off.
Rumplestiltskin frowned slightly. "I am," he replied firmly. He didn't hesitate, either, and wasn't that interesting? "And you need to deal with the Witch."
She'd already planned on that, but getting him out of the way was far too easy. Still, Regina couldn't let the opportunity pass by. Was there something she didn't know, something about his relationship with Zelena that meant Rumplestiltskin either didn't want to or couldn't take the Wicked Witch of the West on? She suspected that the former was more likely than the later; the Blue Fairy had run away from him, after all, and the Witch hadn't seemed eager to cross swords with him, either, despite what she'd said to him.
"Tell me what you are and you have a deal," she replied with a sweet smile. It was unlike Rumplestiltskin not to state his terms up front, and Regina would happily take advantage of that.
That wrought a chuckle out of him. "You don't think I'd tell you if you just asked?"
"Why should I start trusting you now?" she shot back.
"Why should you stop, you mean?" Rumplestiltskin countered, making Regina scowl. Of course she trusted him. He'd taught her, manipulated her, and given her more power than she'd ever dreamed of, but the one thing he'd never done was force her to do anything. Regina had made her own choices, every step of the way, and although there were many things she could blame him for, her life wasn't one of them. Rumplestiltskin had never lied to her, and that counted for a lot inside their screwed up friendship.
"Answer the question."
"In good time."
Regina bit back the urge to groan, and felt Robin take her hand. Sometimes, she really thought that the outlaw was a saint; he was far too good to her. For her. She'd not known peace like this since she'd been in love with Daniel, and sometimes her traitorous heart even thought that this might be better. Regina knew that the odds of someone finding True Love twice were astronomically high, and the fact that Robin had loved and lost Marian before her only made their relationship even less likely. She'd fought against her attraction to him, particularly once she'd spotted that lion tattoo, but Regina was done fighting. Tink had been right. She loved him, and sometimes things were that simple. So, she smiled at him instead of snapping at Rumplestiltskin, warmth racing through her bones.
Besides, she was a sorceress. How could she miss the magic inherent in kissing her True Love each time?
"My original proposition was going to be that if you deal with the Witch, I'll handle the Black Fairy," Rumplestiltskin murmured after a moment, surprisingly not commenting on the two of them.
Or maybe not surprisingly. The man did tend to look at Belle like the world centered on her, and for once that was a feeling Regina could empathize with.
"Can you?" she asked curiously. The Blue Fairy was one thing—even at her worst, Regina suspected Reul Ghorm's bark was worse than her bite. But the Black Fairy, the original darkness, was quite another matter.
"Yes."
It was remarkable. No dissembling. No evasion. No clever wordplay. I just got a straight answer out of Rumplestiltskin. What is the world coming to? Regina, however, was the naturally suspicious sort. "Then I'll promise to deal with the Witch if you tell me what you are."
She was looking forward to the challenge, anyway, but it never hurt to get something out of the deal. Even if the pure satisfaction of taking her castle back from the Witch would have been enough for Regina. Judging from Rumplestiltskin's smile, he knew exactly what she was doing, because he rose, light on his feet and eyes dancing.
"You already know, dear," he said simply.
"Then what's the harm in telling me?" she pressed, heart suddenly racing. There was no way Rumplestiltskin meant what she thought he meant. Never mind the odd flavor of the power he had no, the difference in his magic. Never mind what Tink had said, or what Regina knew instinctively. "Better yet, just tell me how."
He was already walking towards the door, but swooped down to whisper the word in her ear.
"Merlin."
"What?" Regina twisted around to watch Rumplestiltskin stride out, the pieces falling into place in her mind quickly, but not quickly enough. It made too much sense, but—"You bastard!"
The door shut without an answer, and she threw a book at it in frustration. Damn him. Damn Rumplestiltskin again.
Astrid died in Grumpy's arms, her heartbeat slowing to nothing before help could arrive. Inconsolable, the dwarf refused to let go of her body for hours afterwards, hoping against hope that True Love's kiss could bring her back. But death is not a curse, and Astrid would never wake again. Her love would never be the same.
Deep in lands known only to fairies, three young fairies spoke quietly about the death of a woman who had once been their friend, having heard Grumpy's heartfelt pleas for help and having arrived minutes too late. They never saw the slender, black-haired fae approach, and the last thing they heard before death was Norco's merry laugh. Their fellows would find them hours later, their bodies cool to the touch and fae magic wrapped around them. Yet a fourth fairy, the Cerulean Fairy, would fall prey to the many traps Norco left behind, and she too would join the ranks of the dead before the sun set that same day. Two others were wounded, and fear began to spread amongst the fairy ranks. Never before had an enemy breached their stronghold and killed their own.
The Rose Fairy arrived in King Francis' kingdom that same evening, having heeded the call of a monarch in need of aid. One of the few repopulated towns in that kingdom had been swept up into a merry dance that morning, and as each hour passed, the frenzy with which the residents danced only increased. Moving dizzyingly fast—but always with inhuman grace—the people of Bruges never had a chance to call for help. It was only by luck that Prince Thomas discovered their plight, and Thomas was even more fortunate to avoid being caught in the same trap. He rode home instead, leaping off of his exhausted horse to tell his father the news. Francis called in the Rose Fairy, who immediately headed to Bruges to break the spell over the town.
Being nearly as old and powerful as Reul Ghorm herself, the Rose Fairy was able to break the enchantment with difficulty, thus freeing the people of Bruges. Unfortunately, three old men and one old woman had already danced themselves to death, and the survivors told tales of the score of beautiful young men who had been stolen before the dance even began. No one knew what happened to those youths, only that they had been of uncommon good looks and that all walked as if in a trance in the minutes before the dance began. The Rose Fairy promised to find them, swearing to call upon her sisters as required and restore the people of Bruges' faith in the fairies.
As she did so, a tall woman of flaming hair stepped from the shadows, her silver and black dress swirling around her and shimmering in the darkness. The Rose Fairy started, her eyes wide with fear, but she had always been brave, so she stepped between the villagers and the Black Fairy.
"Begone from this town," the Rose Fairy ordered her. "It is under my protection."
Danns' a'Bhàis smiled. "No."
Her hands came up—she had no wand—and moments later, the Rose Fairy crumbled to the ground, pale and dead. The beautiful silver wand that the senior fairy had once wielded jumped easily into the Black Fairy's hand, and she paused to study the wand for a long moment, smiling slightly. Then her head came up, and her inhuman eyes swept over the terrified crowd. The wand disappeared up one long sleeve.
"You may keep your allegiance to King Francis," she said easily, "but you will provide what I require. Do you so, and you will perhaps see your young men again. Understood?"
The mayor nodded jerkily. "Yes, milady."
"Good." Dark green eyes turned to a young woman of exceptional beauty standing near the mayor. "Come here, child."
Terrified, the young woman stepped forward, curly blonde hair obscuring her face. She was clearly a peasant, dressed in a worn but clean dress that demonstrated both her station and her refusal to be defined by it. A young man of nineteen or so years stood nearby, built like a blacksmith and watching her with worry and affection, but the young woman took a deep breath and tried to be brave. Despite that, she was shaking, but the Black Fairy seemed to pay that no mind.
"What is your name, child?"
"Rosaline," she whispered.
"Rosaline," the evil fairy purred, smiling again. "You will accompany me."
"I—" Rosaline started, just as the blacksmith's apprentice spoke up.
"You can't—"
The Black Fairy overrode both of them, her voice soft but carrying dangerously. "If your lover wishes to accompany you, he may.
Rosaline flinched. "He's not my…"
"Would you like him to be?"
Curls bouncing, Rosaline's head snapped up, her eyes wide with shock. Slowly, the Black Fairy touched a finger to her chin, tendrils of magic working their way into her and the young man who loved her. Rosaline seemed unable to find words as her previously bright eyes clouded over slightly, the magic seeping into her.
"I will show you a world of which you have never dreamed," the Black Fairy promised, her magic wrapping around the town. Her eyes found the blacksmith's apprentice, and he stepped forward against his will.
"Come."
A/N: Thank you for all the lovely comments left for the last chapter! I always love hearing from readers. My questions for you: 1) Who do you think the fae will target next and 2) Do you think that Blue will reconsider her strategy of needing Henry's heart now that her sister is out in the open?
Stick around for Chapter 20: "Into the Tempest", in which Emma receives an unexpected visitor, more information on Merlin is shared, and Emma makes a choice that surprises even her.