Chapter Twenty-One—"Dance of Life"

He'd contemplated not showing up, but Belle would have been disappointed in Rumplestiltskin if he'd taken the coward's way out and found another useful place to be. Although the event was officially billed as Prince Graham's christening, it had turned into a who's-who of the Grand Alliance, with the Dark Castle decked out with every conceivable decoration—an effort he was quite certain Regina was to blame for. Even if Rumplestiltskin didn't want to be a part of any of this (and oh, he didn't, so very much, but there really weren't any other options. Not if he wanted to decide his own fate, anyway), he'd somehow stepped into a role amongst the Alliance's leaders.

The position still chaffed, but somehow his showdown with Blue—and loaning Excalibur to Charming without asking for anything in return—seemed to have helped matters. Giving Queen Eva's necklace back to Snow had utterly shocked the young queen, but Rumplestiltskin thought he'd earned himself a measure of trust in doing so, particularly so unexpectedly. Snow was actually wearing the necklace today, he saw, a fact that made him smile to himself. Think I'm going soft all you want, dearie, he thought with a touch of his old glee. I'm just stacking up the trust for when I need it later, because I'm quite certain that I'm going to. After all, at heart Rumplestiltskin was still the man who had spent decades manipulating events to reach one specific moment; why in the world would he change now?

"Smile, Rumple," Belle hissed just as the herald announced:

"Rumplestiltskin and the Lady Belle!"

He had no need of a fancy title. There wasn't a soul in the room—or in the entirety of the Enchanted Forest, really—who needed to be told that Rumplestiltskin was a sorcerer. He was no longer the Dark One. So why bother with anything complicated? Sometimes simple really was better, and the mere mention of his name was still enough to make people shiver. Curse broken or not, Rumplestiltskin still found that fact extremely satisfying. Better he might be trying to be, but he wasn't above being feared. It was useful.

Heads turned to stare at them as they swept into the room. Clad in a gorgeous dress of burgundy and gold, Belle drew the most attention, a state of affairs that didn't bother him in the slightest. Her hair was styled in a fashion that reminded Rumplestiltskin of the day they had first met, back when he'd had no idea what this stubborn and defiant young woman would come to mean to him, only that she'd be important somehow. He'd given her the jewels she was wearing just that morning, and although Belle teased him for trying to buy her affections, Rumplestiltskin was more than a little pleased by the overall image she presented. With her easy grace and beauty, Belle looked more than equal to any queen, and more beautiful than most of them. There wasn't an unattached man in the room whose eyes didn't follow her, but Belle's gaze was on him.

There weren't words to describe utterly warm and peaceful feeling Rumplestiltskin encountered every time he even thought about Belle, the way she gave him strength and how much he loved her. He was only grateful that she felt the same way, else he'd have fallen all over himself trying to explain it. True Love defied definition, but when she smiled up at him like this, he felt almost worthy of her affections.

Almost.

But he still felt his expression soften as he looked at her, felt an answering smile sneaking onto his face despite his lack of desire to join this Christening Ball. Oh, he knew that he needed to be there. He didn't have to like parties to recognize how necessary it was. And of course there'd be no leaving early, no sneaking out once he'd made an appearance for appearances' sake. No, Belle had been born for this kind of thing, and he'd not take that away from her.

"Thank you," she said quietly, as if she could read his mind.

"For what?" Rumplestiltskin tried to frown at her, even teasingly, but Belle's smile put a damper on that expression.

"Coming with me," Belle replied, her arm light on his black and gold clad arm. Rumplestiltskin had abandoned the leather coat and dressed for the occasion; dislike balls though he did, he was hardly the type to dress down. A teasing gleam entered her eyes. "And for smiling."

"Only for you."

"Good." Belle giggled softly. "I'm the jealous type, you know."

One eyebrow rose; a smile tugged at his lips. "Are you?"

"Of course I am." The naughty twinkle in her eye made desire twitch inside him, but Rumplestiltskin ruthlessly suppressed his baser nature. The Enchanted Forest was different from Storybrooke in a lot of ways, one of which was the fact that an unmarried man and woman really shouldn't be sharing a bedchamber the way they were. They'd all somewhat adopted the mores of the Land Without Magic while they'd been there, but now that they were back home, society was slowly returning to what they'd all once viewed as normal. Of course, sorcerers usually ignored silly things like social morals, but Belle wasn't a sorceress. She was the daughter of an influential landed knight, and better things were expected of her.

She was certainly expected to take up with someone better than him, that was for sure. But he'd never be quite suicidal enough to suggest that to Belle; she'd undoubtedly tell him what a fool he was, and then stick around, anyway. Perhaps he was a coward not to tell her that she should find someone new, or perhaps he had finally learned to believe that she really could love him as much as he loved her. Still, Rumplestiltskin knew that their continued association didn't exactly paint Belle in a flattering light, even if most people seemed to accept him as slightly less evil these days.

Marrying her would fix that problem, the traitorous voice of logic reminded him, and Rumplestiltskin tried not to wince. How could he explain away the fact that he'd not proposed to the love of his life already? Oh, there were plenty of excuses: his own inability to tell the truth, her memory loss, his trip to Neverland, and then his supposed death. But someday he knew he was going to have to scrape up the courage to ask her, to pull out the ring that he'd made back in Storybrooke (with his gold, of course, and layers and layers of protective magics to protect her even against him) and ask Belle. Probably before one of the many people who hated him said something obnoxious about it, too.

Given the way her father was glaring at the pair of them now, Sir Maurice was in the why-couldn't-Rumplestiltskin-stay-dead camp. He was in good company; King Francis still hadn't forgiven Rumplestiltskin for the stunt with his granddaughter (useless though he thought Alexandra was for the succession), and his son was even more angry. Bae had mentioned once that the old deal still created a lot of tension between himself and Prince Thomas…and the fact that Rumplestiltskin's son had just shown up with Princess Emma on his arm probably didn't help that one bit.

Henry was with them, looking incredibly self-satisfied. Was the clever lad responsible? If so, Rumplestiltskin would be more proud than ever to call Henry his grandson. He was turning out to be a proper little manipulator, brilliant in all the right ways. Bae looked a little embarrassed when Belle caught the couple's gazes and dragged Rumplestiltskin that way, telling Emma how gorgeous she looked and making the young princess fidget uneasily. Baelfire was obviously trying not to look too out of place, and finally said to his father in an undertone:

"Do I look as ridiculous as I feel? David gave me this to wear."

Now was probably not the time to comment on Charming's usual lack of fashion sense; what the king had come up with fit Bae rather well. "You look fine, Bae."

"I keep telling him that, but for some reason he won't believe me," Emma got in, shooting Bae a glare that made Henry beam.

"You both look wonderful," Belle got in before Rumplestiltskin could figure out how to disengage himself from this suddenly loaded conversation, and her sheer earnestness seemed to overcome the awkwardness.

"Do my eyes deceive me, or is that a blush, Miss Swan?" The words escaped before Rumplestiltskin could stop himself, and for a moment, he thought his son might actually kick him. Henry, however, was snickering.

Emma glared. "Shut up, Gold."

"I keep telling you that isn't my name, dearie," he countered lightly. No, some things didn't change, and he was…glad.

"Yeah, and I'll keep ignoring you," she shot back, and then turned the death glare on her child. "And don't you start, kiddo, or I'll tell Grace about the crush you had on her."

Henry went beet red right away, and mumbled something about finding his little uncle, and bolted. Bae looked at Emma with a lopsided smile. "That was a little mean."

"If you wanted a nice girl, you should have had my mother steal the car you'd already stolen," Emma retorted, making Belle giggle and Rumplestiltskin chuckle.

"Hey, you asked me to this shindig."

Wasn't that interesting. Rumplestiltskin felt his right eyebrow approaching his hairline, particularly as the mournful expression on a certain pirate's face caught his eye. He'd known that Bae was worried that Emma would be so distracted by Hook's suave attempts to seduce her that he wouldn't have a chance, but it looked like his son had somehow gotten the upper hand. Or maybe Emma wasn't as interested in Hook as Bae had been worried she was.

"Shut up," Emma cautioned him, noticing the expression.

Rumplestiltskin raised his hands in mock surrender. "I hadn't said a word."

"Then don't start."

"He won't," Belle got in to promise for him as Rumplestiltskin gave her a dirty look. She smiled sweetly. "Rumple's on his best behavior."

"I am?" he asked just as Emma echoed:

"He is?"

"Yes." Belle came up on her tip toes to kiss him lightly on the cheek, and Rumplestiltskin knew she'd won when she did that. He hadn't intended to deliberately antagonize anyone this evening, anyway—having his curse broken did help in that regard; at least he could manage to stop himself when he wanted to—so Rumplestiltskin supposed that being nice to Emma wasn't that terrible. Besides, she was there with Bae, and given the way his son was laughing at him now, Bae was happy with that.

Under normal circumstances, Rumplestiltskin hated being laughed at about as much as he hated anything, but this was his son. Seeing Baelfire happy was worth even Emma's gloating expression, particularly because the princess wasn't smirking too hard.

He even managed to be on his best behavior when talking to the Charmings a few minutes later, and only snapped a little bit at Regina—who gave as good as she got, of course, but that was half the fun of baiting his former student. Belle smiled and greeted all and sundry, always gracious even to those who looked askance at her for being with him. Rumplestiltskin received more than a few wary and cautious looks of his own (not that either was a novel experience for him), and he heard a couple of people muttering about how they'd expected him to go all gray-gold and scaly again. But the organized festivities finally took the place of the whispers, with the official presentation of Prince Graham garnering all of the expected oohs and ahs when Queen Snow held the crying child up for all to see.

Frankly, Rumplestiltskin had never understood the need for a royal christening at all. All it really did was give some unscrupulous magic user the chance to pop a curse on the wee babe, not to mention the opportunity to do so publically and embarrass the monarchs whilst doing so. He'd never stooped to such a level himself, but knew the rules of the game well enough. Which was why he was now watching out for that very same thing. The world really is upside down when the former Dark One is the sorcerer you're depending upon to keep your baby prince safe…and I'm actually doing it.

Interestingly enough, Zelena was nowhere to be seen, obviously having chosen to disregard the fact that the Charmings actually had sent her an invitation. Maleficent was there, however. Though she'd usually be good for a curse or two, with Regina as Graham's godmother, it was a given that Maleficent would be on her best behavior. It really was a pity that Zelena hadn't shown up. They might have ended the war in one shot, and he half expected to see her make an entrance as Regina swore—with a straight face, no less!—to let no evil befall the babe she was promising to protect. But the Witch was not so forthcoming, so he just watched the scene play out with half his attention, magic tingling at his fingertips with nothing to do. He half wished someone would curse the damn baby. At least it would make things more interesting.

Finally, however, one of the nurses took the now-remarkably quiet baby (Rumplestiltskin suppressed a smile, having felt the light sleeping spell Regina put on Graham when she'd been holding him) and the traditional festivities continued. That meant it was time for speeches, of which both Snow and Charming each had one, though Regina had mercifully declined that honor; like him, Regina was still somewhat of a pariah. Trying not to fidget—and thinking of all the mischief he'd have freely indulged in were he still the Dark One—Rumplestiltskin let his mind drift. Thankfully, both royals were to the point; Charming had been born a shepherd and Snow was the direct type, so neither waxed poetic for too long. Then it was time to move onto the part of the ceremony where the King and Queen in question elevated a few people in honor of the new prince's birth. Usually, that meant handing out a lordship or a knighthood or two, though the thought of handing out lordships over lands they hadn't won back yet was just a bit ridiculous. Fortunately, Charming agreed with Rumplestiltskin on that front, so the king only said:

"Snow and I discussed who we wanted to honor today, and we agreed that it might be a bit early to be granting lordships when we haven't won the kingdom back yet." The crowd chuckled obediently, though Rumplestiltskin thought he detected some actual wry humor in a few voices. "But there is one person who we did want to recognize for his efforts thus far in the war. Baelfire, please step forward."

Belle made a small noise of surprise from his left while the crowd parted to let Bae through. He'd been relatively near the front, but Emma had obviously been trying to hide a bit while the attention was on her baby brother. Now, however, everyone turned to stare at the pair while Emma glared at her father, clearly shocked. Interesting that they told me and didn't tell Emma, Rumplestiltskin thought to himself, not bothering to hide his smile this time. None of them had warned Bae, of course, who looked wary and more than a little startled.

"Kneel, please," Charming instructed Bae, who thankfully managed not to say anything ridiculous and just did as he was told. His wide eyes said that Bae was starting to catch on, however, and Rumplestiltskin had never seen his son struck so speechless as he was when Charming drew Excalibur.

Because, damn it all, he'd let the young king keep the sword. For now. It was still a loan—Rumplestiltskin didn't like the idea of a weapon that could kill him as easily as it could kill the Black Fairy running around outside his control—but he couldn't ignore the fact that Charming would probably need the sword again. And now he was knighting Baelfire with it, which was somehow fitting.

"Arise, Sir Baelfire," Charming intoned, and Belle's grip on Rumplestiltskin's arm was hard enough that he thought it might leave bruises. Good bruises, though. She was smiling hard enough that the expression almost hurt his face. A quick glance right revealed that Emma Swan was just as happy, and Henry was absolutely beaming, clearly trying not to bounce up and down in excitement.

Bae, for his part, looked as pleased as he did stunned. Charming sheathed Excalibur and held out a hand for Bae to shake, which Bae took with a lopsided smile.

"Thank you," Rumplestiltskin's son said a little breathlessly.

"You've more than earned it," the king replied, but it was Snow who led the applause. Some of the more snobbish nobles in the room looked like their noses were bent out of joint by Baelfire's elevation, but most of the cheers were honest enough. Resisting the urge to mentally compile a list of those who didn't look happy, Rumplestiltskin concentrated on watching his son accept the congratulations he'd earned. None of them would have thought that Bae would turn out to be such a successful general, but he had, and Rumplestiltskin was damn proud of him. A few minutes later, however, his son approached him—with Henry in tow as Emma whispered accusingly with her parents—and grumbled:

"You knew. You knew and you didn't tell me."

He tried an innocent smile on for size. "Now why would I do a thing like that?"

"Papa."

"I promised Charming that I wouldn't ruin his surprise," Rumplestiltskin admitted as Belle joined Bae in giving him a hard look.

"You could have warned me," Bae objected, but he could see the smile lurking in his son's eyes. Henry finally interjected:

"I think you just wanted to surprise him, too," his grandson said with another wide smile. And what could he say when faced with that much optimistic honesty? Rumplestiltskin had to smile.

"Maybe a little."

"You deserve it, Bae," Belle chimed in. "The knighthood, more than the surprise."

"You do," Rumplestiltskin added, clearing his throat and forging onwards despite his own discomfort. He hated saying things like this around people, with an audience he was striving valiantly to ignore, but—"And I am damn proud of you, son. I know I don't say it as often as I should, but I am."

His throat was suspiciously tight by the time he finished speaking, but judging from the gruffness in Bae's voice, his son knew how he felt. "I know, Papa."

Rumplestiltskin pulled his son into an embrace, not caring who was watching. They had few enough moments like this during the messed up lives they lived, so he'd damn well take advantage of this one while it lasted.

Two hours later, the formal dinner was done and people had started dancing. Rumplestiltskin might have bowed out then had Belle not dragged him out onto the dance floor, and he found himself truly dancing for the first time since his marriage to Milah. He didn't think of those days often—over three hundred years had passed since he'd been a simple human spinner, uncrippled and enough full of optimism to lose himself dancing. Oh, he'd spun Cinderella maliciously around the dance floor, and done the same to the odd desperate noblewoman or two over the years, but he'd not actually danced. All of Rumplestiltskin's memories about dancing were colored by youthful hopes that had later been crushed, and he'd not cared to dredge those up.

Belle, however, was his hope, and for her he'd brave far worse horrors than the demons of his past, even if it meant testing out the healing job he'd done on his leg and taking a turn or two on the dance floor. Particularly when it made her smile like this.

"See? I told you that you could have fun if you let yourself," Belle said to him after their third dance, by which time people had gotten sick of staring at the infamous former (though not all of them seemed convinced of that) Dark One on the dance floor.

Despite himself, Rumplestiltskin smiled. "I did tell you that I was going to start listening to you from now on."

"Well, good." Her grin was cheeky, but the love shining in Belle's eyes was plain. They'd had their rocky moments, and probably always would, because Rumplestiltskin knew he wasn't the best at doing the right thing, but—Belle groaned quietly, her face falling. "Oh, no."

"What is it, sweetheart?"

"My father's coming this way. I think he's going to try to cut in."

Offering to turn Sir Maurice into a snail was on the tip of his tongue, but Rumplestiltskin bit the urge back. "Do you want to dance with him?" he asked.

"I don't know," Belle replied quietly. "I should."

"Say the word, and I'll whisk us away," Rumplestiltskin offered.

Belle, however, shook her head. "We need to clear the air between us," she said bravely. "Or at least I need to. He may not like my choices, but they're mine, and I'm not going to let him change my mind."

Leaning forward as they danced, Rumplestiltskin kissed her on the forehead, not caring who was watching. "I never thought he would."

"Thank you." She smiled at him again, and then Rumplestiltskin relinquished Belle to her father, shooting the knight a sly smile that he knew made Maurice squirm inside. What little desire he'd ever possessed to make amends with Sir Maurice had vanished when Belle's father had tried to send her over the town line. Now he was barely willing to tolerate the man for Belle's sake, but not being the Dark One didn't lessen his urge to turn Maurice into something and squash him.

Weaving his way through other dancers, Rumplestiltskin gladly abandoned the dance floor, aiming to slide into the shadows and spend some time without people watching him. However, his bid for anonymity was hijacked by his grandson, who seemed to have gotten bored with watching his parents dance. Henry was just old enough to start discovering girls, Rumplestiltskin realized, but young enough that the lad still felt undoubtedly awkward in their presence. There weren't a lot of kids at the christening—even Graham was back in his nursery by now—and Henry looked a bit lost while Regina danced with Robin and the Charmings talked politics with Abigail and Midas.

"Hey, Grandpa Gold," Henry greeted him with a sunny smile that Rumplestiltskin couldn't help returning. How Henry had decided to call him that, Rumplestiltskin wasn't sure, but the name had stuck, and he found himself not minding at all.

"Hey, Henry. Bored?"

The boy shrugged. "A little. It was fun when Grandpa knighted Dad, but now everyone's just dancing. Mom and Mom both danced with me, but now they're dancing with Robin and Dad, and it's not like I want to interrupt either of those dances. I hung out with Hook for awhile, but I think he's getting drunk. So I came to visit you."

Rumplestiltskin tried not to snort in amusement and failed, and was rewarded by another grin out of his grandson. "Trying to play matchmaker, are we?"

"Apparently it runs in our family," Henry replied cheerfully. "Didn't you do that with my other grandparents?"

"Guilty as charged." Oh, he could argue, but it really was quite amusing when he thought about things that way.

"I think you should tell them," Henry said abruptly, turning serious eyes on his grandfather.

Alarm bells started screeching in his head, but years of experience controlling his facial expressions enabled Rumplestiltskin to ask mildly: "Come again?"

"Dad told me about the Merlin thing. And I think you're wrong. They're not going to think you're more evil just because you have more power now." Henry looked him square in the eye, and Rumplestiltskin blinked, unable to hide his shock. "Trust is important. If you want them to trust you, you have to trust them, too."

Telling Henry that he didn't care if Snow and Charming trusted him was on the tip of Rumplestiltskin's tongue, but better judgment won out. He'd given Snow back her mother's necklace for precisely that reason. He didn't need the Charmings' trust, but it would make future challenges easier to handle, particularly if Reul Ghorm continued in her quest to take this very boy's heart. He'd told the Blue Fairy that they'd be having a chat about her sister one of these days before realizing that Reul Ghorm wanted to use his grandson's heart to trap the Black Fairy, but he would have been a lot less civil had he known that first. Having allies was still a new experience for him, and Rumplestiltskin still liked to play his cards close. The more he told the Charmings, the more information was likely to get out…

Yet Henry had a point. Trust was important. He just wasn't used to receiving it. Or giving it.

"Perhaps you're right," he said slowly, letting a breath out and banishing his instinctual desire to brush Henry off. He wasn't going to make any promises, not yet, but perhaps he should say something. "I'll think about it," he told Henry.

"Okay." Another smile, and damn the boy was too clever for his own good. No wonder he'd been able to shepherd his stubborn and doubting mother through breaking the Dark Curse. No one else would have managed that in a million years.

"I'm not making any promises, mind you," Rumplestiltskin cautioned his grandson, but Henry's smile never wavered.

"Of course you aren't," Henry replied confidently. "I know you'll do the right thing."

That made him chuckle. "Oh, do you now?"

"Yup." Brown eyes met brown, and why did Rumplestiltskin get the feeling that his grandson saw straight into his tattered soul? "You're different now. You don't have to fight the darkness like you used to, and I think you're a good man under that."

"I'm…flattered, Henry," he said after a moment, groping for words. Then he managed a wry smile. "But don't think too highly of me. I fear you'll be disappointed."

"No, I won't." Suddenly distracted, Henry's head whipped around to look at someone else before he shot Rumplestiltskin another dazzling smile. "I know I won't."

For the first time in decades, Rumplestiltskin literally had no idea what to say. He could only stare at his grandson in shock, and barely managed to react when the teenager wrapped his arms around him and gave Rumplestiltskin a quick hug. Stunned, he could only blink, and finally managed to say: "Thank you, Henry."

"You're welcome." Then within moments, Henry was a teenager again, spotting a friend and ready to dart off. "Gotta go."

Chuckling, Rumplestiltskin watched his grandson bounce over to join Jefferson's daughter and a few other youths. Henry's confidence in him utterly floored him—he'd finally earned Bae's trust, and was accustomed to Belle's unwavering faith, but this was new. It left him almost breathless and just a little off-balance, but the warm feeling of family growing inside him was nice. Experience told Rumplestiltskin that belonging like this wouldn't last—yet what if he was wrong? What if everything actually had changed, and this was just a beginning? Heart of the Truest Believer, indeed.

A smile wormed its way onto his face, and he felt his eyes drift back to Belle on the dance floor. She and her father appeared to be speaking civilly, and Belle didn't look as distressed as he'd feared she would. Not that the fact that Maurice was treating her halfway decently made Rumplestiltskin hate him less. Some things really didn't change…but there were suddenly a lot of people dancing. Even Henry was heading out to the dance floor with Grace, and Rumplestiltskin would have pegged his grandson as the last boy who'd manage to ask a girl to dance. Still, maybe she'd asked him—

Magic tingled at the edge of his consciousness, and a voice out of his nightmares spoke from behind him.

"Would you care to dance, old friend?"

Slowly, with his heart pounding in his ears, Rumplestiltskin turned to face Danns' a'Bhàis. Dance of Death. Of course. He could feel the tendrils of magic snaking out, harmless for now as couples took to the dance floor and the orchestra struck up a stately tune. She held a porcelain white hand out to him with a smile, waiting gracefully for his response without so much of a hint of the impatience he knew boiled within her. Flaming red hair was swept up above her all-too-perfect face, creating an utterly otherworldly image of power and grace. Merlin had admired her, even loved her, Rumplestiltskin knew, before she'd torn him to shreds. Rumplestiltskin had feared her, but now faced Danns' a'Bhàis on equal terms.

Layers of power swept around her like the black and silver dress she wore, dark and light, sharp and soft. She was power in the same way an angry Reul Ghorm had been…in the same way he was.

Did she know that? She'd called him old friend, as though she were expecting Merlin, and realization hit Rumplestiltskin in a flash.

"Of course," he replied lightly, forcing himself to take the offered hand of the woman who had tortured him (who featured in the nightmares he still had night after night, whose hands meant pain and terror). Two could play at this game.

A/N: Sorry for the late update today – I got home much later than I intended! So, what do you think that the Black Fairy intends to do here at Prince Graham's christening? Is it too late for her to curse the baby, or might she have something else in mind?

Chapter 21 is "Dance of Death", in the Black Fairy and Rumplestiltskin have an interesting conversation, and fallout ensues. While you're waiting for that, please let me know what you think!