Note: Chapters 26-29 take place in very close continuity to one another—the total time passed between them is about a half a day.

Chapter Twenty-Six—"Two for One"

Tink had never killed before, but found doing so surprisingly easy when it came down to her life or that of a fae who had already killed two of her oldest friends. Still, a monster case of the shakes hit her when she stopped to take a deep breath, looking down at Gliss' and Glimmer's bodies and that of the fae who had called herself Vara. Staggering over to where her friends lay, Tink checked again to make sure they were dead, hoping against hope that she was wrong.

She wasn't.

Gulping back the need to vomit, Tink sank to the ground and tried to make herself consider her options. Gliss and Glimmer acted as the patron fairies for the town of Nottingham—although neither had been the particularly attentive sort, which explained how various villains continually got away with abusing the people who lived in the town and the nearby forest. Still, they'd obviously come here for a reason; Tink and the three bodies were barely on the outskirts of town, and she could see people milling about in the distance. Obviously, none of the more sensible residents wanted to get involved in a fight between fairies, and they were rather studiously looking anywhere but at Tink.

Everyone except the thoroughly obnoxious sheriff that she remembered from her short stay in Storybrooke. He was stalking towards her like this was all somehow her fault, and Tink levered herself to her feet unsteadily to meet him. She still wanted to throw up, and could hardly bear to look at the bodies of Gliss and Glimmer—but they weren't the first friends she'd lost, or the first corpses she'd seen. They were at war, and Tink had been up to her neck in the mess since the beginning. She'd also spent long enough in Neverland, dodging Pan's sick games, to have seen plenty of dead Lost Boys. This, at least, was a war worth fighting. She didn't regret her choice to help the Grand Alliance, and she wasn't about to start cowering now.

"What is the meaning of this?" the Sheriff of Nottingham demanded, as if he couldn't tell what had happened. Or maybe he couldn't. Tink could smell the alcohol on his breath from fifteen feet away.

Why did we liberate Nottingham again? Oh, yes. Because Sherwood Forest is practically on the Dark Castle's doorstep, and the people of this town have been willing to fight with us from moment one. Except for the Sheriff, of course. He'd run home almost as soon as Nottingham had been liberated, claiming that his people needed guidance and protection. From him, of course.

Tink snorted out loud at the thought. "What do you think happened?" she retorted with a roll of her eyes. "Two good people are dead, trying to protect your town from a fae. Now why don't you get lost and let me deal with it?"

"Why don't you help where you're needed instead of standing around?" he slurred instead of buggering off like she wished he would.

"Huh?" Wasn't that what she'd just done?

Drunk or not, he managed an impressive sneer. "There's another one of those creatures stealing babies. Four of them so far. He's stacking them up like merchandise at the fair."

"He's what?" the words rushed out of Tink in surprise, but then she waved off his response, stalking forward despite the growing feeling of dread in her stomach. "Show me where."

She was exhausted, running out of fairy dust, and was mourning the death of two friends, but Tink couldn't let some fae take innocent children. There wasn't time to think about how the male fae tended to be more powerful than the females, either. Male fairies had been very rare in the beginning, and all of those who survived the initial wars over magic had chosen to follow the Black Fairy. Still, Tink was powerful in her own right, and she'd spent the last few months doing something no pure fairy had done since before the split—learning human magic to add to her own normal powers. Regina was a good teacher, and although Tink wasn't a sorceress on her friend's level yet, she was still pretty good.

Magic it would have to be, then. But she didn't put her wand away as she followed the Sheriff. Let this fae think that she could only use a wand and fairy dust. Tink would take every advantage she could get.

"I hate flying monkeys," Emma snarled, resisting the urge to fling her sword against the cave wall in frustration. Doing so had to be bad for the metal, and the last thing that she needed to do was to do break a weapon they needed. Ruby had already managed to shatter one sword in a monkey's surprisingly hard skull—she was far stronger than Emma had ever given her credit for—and they were down to only four swords, now, which was just enough.

Thankfully, Hook had for some reason decided to bring an extra, which was an odd habit coming from a man with only one working hand and a weapon attached to the other. Still, the pirate had only grinned and said that old habits died hard, and he'd been in more than a few sticky situations.

"I could do without them, yes," Belle replied from her right, finishing bandaging up Ruby's bitten left arm.

"A little help over here, love?" Hook gestured at the cut in his own left side, where there was a wound that was perfectly placed for him to never be able to reach it on his own.

Belle scowled at him. "I'm not your 'love', Hook. Don't call me that. And don't think I've forgotten that you shot me, among other things. I'm not your friend, even if we are on the same side. So feel free to keep your eyes on my face and off my chest."

"Ouch," Emma couldn't stop herself from muttering. Killian Jones might be her friend, but he probably deserved a bit of a tongue lashing from Belle, given what he'd done. Emma still remembered calling him dead guy of the year after the incident at the town line, and there were times she was still surprised that Gold hadn't killed him yet.

"Will it help if I apologize?" Hook asked, sounding reasonably contrite. For him. "I'm not the man I was then."

"You'd better not be," Belle warned him, still not looking like she planned on taking any crap from him. Still, Emma hoped that she was willing to give Hook a chance. He might still style himself a pirate, but he really had changed…at least some. The saucy grin he was shooting at Belle indicated that he hadn't completely lost his flirtatious edge.

Suppose I didn't break his heart too badly after all, Emma reflected. Then again, knowing Hook, it could just be a self-defense mechanism. It's not like he actually thought he was going to steal another woman from Rumplestiltskin, did he? Emma knew he was smarter than this.

Despite Hook's attitude, Belle patched up his side—a good thing, since Emma was no use when it came to medicine. She was pretty much limited to Band-Aids and Neosporin, herself, but Belle seemed to know what to do with a salve, water, and some bandages. Hook grimaced as she worked, looking thoroughly miserable with the wound, but Belle only shushed him and—making Emma giggle—told the pirate not to be a baby. Hook looked wounded, but seemed to find the humor in the situation, at least a little. Ruby would undoubtedly have found it funny, too, had she not been acting as lookout. Her enhanced sense of smell and hearing made the wolf girl ideal for the role; she'd already provided live saving warnings more than once on this journey. The monkeys the group hadn't killed had retreated, but there was no way of knowing what else might be coming next. So far, they'd run afoul of monkeys, shaggy and smelly tribesmen, a trio of goblins, and a really irate chimera. Anything could happen.

"You think we're good to continue up the mountain?" she asked Belle, who shrugged as she rose from Hook's side.

"Probably as good a time as any," she answered. "Either we're going to the booby traps, or they're coming to us."

"Okay, then, campers. Let's get moving," Emma told the others decisively, stepping out of the cave and into the crisp morning air. Hook, however, was apparently not finished.

"I do apologize," he said sincerely, still talking to Belle as they started walking. "I was consumed by revenge…and not myself. I don't expect you'll forgive me, but…well, the apology is long overdue despite that. So I apologize, for whatever it is worth."

"I accept your apology," Belle replied, much to Emma's surprise. "I'm not saying that I will ever forget what you did, but I do understand that people can change. So long as you mean it, anyway."

"I do," Hook said, glancing at the ground as they walked. "More than you can ever know."

Belle nodded. "Good. Then we're clear."

How could a woman that purely good stick with Gold for so long? Emma supposed that she might find out the details of it before too long, given that Belle was practically Neal's stepmother and all. This world is so damn weird. Hook nodded in response to Belle's answer, obviously smart enough to think that was the best he was going to get. He glanced Emma's way, his expression unreadable, but the look did make her wonder.

Emma really, really hoped that Hook wasn't doing this for her benefit.

"So, what's next?" she asked Belle as they detoured around a big ditch, complete with sharpened stakes on the bottom.

"We should reach the King's Cave well before nightfall. If Rumple's map is right"—she had the map in her hands now, instead of a book—"we don't have that much further to go. Barring any more attacks by flying monkeys, we should be able to make pretty good time."

"Is it just me, or did those monkeys seem to retreat awfully quickly?" Ruby asked, pausing to sniff the air.

"And here I was thinking our brave defense frightened them off," Emma groused drily.

"I was hoping that we'd be luckier than that," Hook muttered.

"Not a chance," Ruby replied, drawing her sword. "Something's coming."

"Let's find cover," Belle said sensibly, and they dove for the trees just as another dozen monkeys appeared.

"Oh, oh, oh, what have we here? Another fairy come to die today?"

Tink froze as the slender male figure turned towards her, feeling dark magic sweeping around the town square. The fae had a collection of a dozen children now, ranging from infants to a pair of very frightened ten year olds. They'd been pinned into a magical cage of sorts, grouped together with no thought for their comfort. Some were crying, and a few others appeared to be unconscious. But that wasn't what worried Tink the most. No, it was the dark magic rippling outwards from the male fae that terrified her. He matches the description of the one Grumpy said killed Astrid, Tink realized with a start.

"Norco," she ground out, her mind on Astrid. That's three friends that need avenging. Tink swallowed hard. Grumpy was still missing. Did that make four friends she needed to mourn?

"Ah, you've heard of me," Norco purred, his angular face creased by a smile. He really was quite handsome, in a terrifying sort of way, but Tink knew magic when she saw it. And this—this was dark magic, thick and powerful, darker than anything she'd ever felt before. Only Pan had been this potently evil; even her exposure to Rumplestiltskin as the Dark One hadn't been like this.

"Nothing good," Tink snapped back. "But you probably think of that as a compliment."

"Oh, I do."

Her hand was sweaty on her wand, but at least she could hold it steady. "Leave now," Tink ordered the fae.

"But I'm just getting started. And my friends are so eager to meet you." Norco grinned viciously, and even though Tink knew it was probably a distraction, she wheeled around when his gaze fastened on something just past her right shoulder.

It wasn't a trick.

The spot where the Sheriff had been standing was now occupied by a pair of fae, both female and smiling. One of them looked terribly similar to the woman Tink had killed earlier, and both had their hands up already, with magic swirling between them. This was darkness, too, prickly and dangerous, ready to take her down the way it had Nottingham's sheriff—but Tink had a feeling that they meant to do a lot worse to her than knock her unconscious. It was a trap all along. They hadn't needed to use the drunk so-called lawman, however; he'd probably been easy to play.

So was I.

Tink's heart hammered in her chest. The fae had made a sport of killing fairies back in the original wars…and she was their newest target. Long years of training made her contemplate calling for Blue, but they still didn't know what side the senior fairy was going to take—and she'd never make it there in time. If Blue even wanted to, and Tink wasn't sure the senior fairy would mourn her death, even if she had given her wings back to her. That meant she only had one choice.

"Rumplestiltskin," Tink breathed quietly, infusing her desperate fear into the whisper. She knew she didn't need to shout…but if she did, would he get there more quickly? The loud pounding in her ears had to be her heart, but she still had to check to make sure it wasn't some sort of horrid spell. Just to be sure.

"Calling for help already?" one of the female fae mocked her. "Perhaps you're smarter than most fairies."

"More stubborn, too," she shot back, retreating a few steps so that she could keep all three fae in her sights. They were still working magic, but nothing aimed at her. Not yet. No, they were concentrating on setting a trap—No. I'm stupider than I thought. The fae were setting a trap. Of course they were. And Tink had just helped them spring it.

There was no way to un-call his name, though, so all she could do was hope that Rumplestiltskin really did have Merlin's powers. Otherwise, they were both screwed.

"And here I was thinking that I would have to pull this out to get his attention," Norco said with a smirk, pulling a wavy kris dagger out of seemingly thin air. There was no name on it, not anymore, but Tink still recognized it. All fairies knew what the Dark One's dagger looked like, after all, and Tink's heart sank.

"You didn't have to, dearie, but it certainly doesn't hurt," a new voice answered him, and suddenly Rumplestiltskin was standing to Tink's right.

Never once had she imagined fighting side by side with the former Dark One, but magic started flying almost immediately, and Tink was damn glad for his presence. Faced with three fae, she would have been dead within minutes without help—and damn it if the man didn't know magic better than any human she'd ever heard of. The fae might have wanted to trap him, but they definitely hadn't expected him to be like this. Tink had seen a hundred humans work magic, but she'd never seen anything like what Rumplestiltskin was doing now.

Now if only they could live through the next few minutes, everything would be grand.

The letter arrived at the Dark Castle five days after Regina had paid her sister a visit, written, of course, in brilliant green ink and delivered by a flying monkey. It was short and to the point.

Sister—

I appreciate your kind offer, but I would sooner die than come crawling to you. I will destroy you.

Zelena

"Well, I guess that tells us how she feels," Regina spat, throwing the letter down on the desk in front of her stepdaughter. She rolled her eyes. "So much for familial obligations."

Snow reached out to squeeze her hand gently, and much to Regina's own surprise, she didn't pull free right away. "You tried, Regina."

"I shouldn't have bothered. It was a waste of time, and we knew she'd say no. Even Rumplestiltskin didn't expect her to say yes. She's crazy."

"I'm sorry it didn't work," Snow replied compassionately, and Regina glared.

"I'm not," she snapped, but there wasn't as much anger in the response as she wanted there to be. What did I ever do to her? Regina had asked her older (half) sister that once, only to be told that she'd been born, an answer that made no sense at all. Sure, Zelena had been abandoned and had a right to be angry, but why be angry with Regina? It seemed utterly ridiculous for Zelena to blame her for something that had happened before Regina's parents had even met. Hell, Regina agreed with her that Cora had been a monster! Given the chance, she would gladly have swapped places with her sister, no matter what kind of foster family Zelena had been raised by. Getting away from Cora would have been worth it—

Except then she would never have known her daddy, and Henry would never have been her son. Those two things made the hell of her childhood worth any price, and Regina wouldn't trade that for anything.

Regina swallowed, turning away from Snow to hide her own disappointment behind a scowl. I'd always wanted a sister, she thought to herself, staring out the window. Would it have been so bad for Zelena to bend a little, to forget her hatred? Regina knew from experience how hard that was, but if she could stand here in the Dark Castle with Snow White, it would have been possible for Zelena to give up on her vengeful quest, too. Not now, though. Zelena had made her choices.

"Where were you when I needed a maniac berserker against Anne Bonny?" Hook asked Ruby as the werewolf stood over a stack of at least eight dead flying monkeys.

"Waiting tables," she retorted with a shrug, exchanging a grin with Belle. For her part, Belle only rolled her eyes—Hook really didn't get it, did he? Emma had turned him down, and he was still sending sorrowful looks her way from time to time, but when he wasn't pining for the Savior, he was flirting with anything remotely female shaped. Including Belle, who was probably as off limits as anyone was possible to be, at least as far as Hook should be concerned.

"What a waste," the pirate replied with a saucy grin.

"My patrons didn't think so," Ruby shot back, meeting his gaze squarely and then…winking. Belle resisted the urge to roll her eyes a second time. Ruby was playing with Hook, and though she was sure that her friend knew exactly what she was doing, she also knew that Ruby was more than a little miffed on Belle's behalf.

"I bet they didn't." Hook wagged his eyebrows suggestively. "Perhaps you'd like to give me a demonstration…?"

"Oh, give me a break," Ruby replied without rancor. "Now that these suckers are dead, can we get on with getting up to the cave where the Janus Stone is supposed to be?"

"I'm not sure they're all dead," Emma said cautiously, poking a still-twitching monkey with her sword.

"Then let's not stick around and find out," Belle suggested, pulling the map out of where she'd stuffed it down the front of her tunic. It was big enough to be a rather snug fit, but she didn't exactly have a lot of choices when the fight kicked off. "We don't have much further to go."

"Thank God," Emma muttered, stepping up next to Hook and elbowing him in a friendly fashion. "C'mon. Quit your flirting and let's get a move on."

"I'm not—"

"You're breathing. I get it," the Savior replied with a smile.

At least she seemed to find it funny, Belle reflected, but then maybe she was just biased. After all, her first ever meeting with Hook had been him attacking her in the library, quickly followed by him trying to kill her on his ship, and then him shooting her. Belle had tried very hard to avoid Hook when they'd all been closeted in the Dark Castle during the early days of the war, and fortunately the pirate had headed off to his own adventures for most of the year before he was sent to fetch Emma. Belle had meant it when she'd accepted his apology, but that didn't mean she trusted him.

"Well, we all have our strengths," Hook replied with a shrug.

"And some of us are crazier than others," Ruby muttered to Belle, and they exchanged smiles.

But there wasn't much time to joke the pair followed Emma and Hook around a bend and suddenly there was a solid wall of rock in front of them, stretching at least thirty feet straight upwards. Emma stopped cold and glanced back at Belle, her expression one that screamed You've got to be kidding me.

"Let me guess that this is the only way to the cave," Emma said with a groan.

Glancing down at the map, Belle sighed, too. Topography on the map wasn't terribly well defined—although zooming in on an area could make it reasonably clear, the map had been made by magic and not a cartographer. Even Rumplestiltskin's magic wasn't infallible, and Fionn Mountain wasn't one of the areas he'd focused on when making the map. Back then, this mountain had been completely unimportant. Now it sheltered one of the most magical items in creation, one they needed in order to stop the war that raged over the entirety of the Enchanted Forest.

Belle looked up again, staring at the sheer rock wall, and then looked down again. "You're gonna hate this," she told Ruby before turning back to Emma. "Yeah. We have to climb."

"I hate heights," Ruby grumbled, but then Belle had already known that about her.

"You think you hate climbing, darling," Hook piped up. "Try doing it one-handed. And one-hooked."

Ruby just snarled and pulled a rope out of her pack. "Let's get this over with."

Merlin had known Norco, Rumplestiltskin realized, and had not liked him one bit. Hard-edged and almost as old as the Black Fairy herself, Norco had been one of the first to follow her—and had always stood as one of her most loyal adherents. Loyal to the point of insanity, Merlin had told Danns long ago, standing with her on the edge of a cliff while they watched Norco lead a slaughter of humans who had come to steal fae power. He does what is necessary, but acts in unnecessary ways, the old sorcerer had argued, even back then. What he had seen of Norco in the following war only further soured him towards the senior fae.

Norco was a psychopath, plain and simple, Rumplestiltskin realized. He recognized the signs well enough, could see the pleasure with which Norco tormented those with less power than he possessed. Given what he is, that's just about everyone. Unbidden, a memory of a previous Dark One—Koschei, sixth after Merlin and the last to serve the Black Fairy before her exile—came to mind. Koschei had attempted to break with the Black Fairy and had found himself on the receiving end of Norco's vengeance…only to discover that all the power of the Dark One's curse could not match him. Koschei had been more knowledgeable than most of the later hosts for the curse, but Norco had crushed him easily.

And Norco had enjoyed it, had loved every moment he was able to hurt someone. The Black Fairy had let him toy with Koschei for months before she'd intervened, too, and Norco had reveled in causing pain. Just like he was now.

Tink was screaming, wreathed in dark magic of the likes Rumplestiltskin had never seen before. He had made the mistake of dealing with the two younger fae first, since Merlin's memories of Norco had yet to bubble to the surface, but the moment that nasty spell reached out for Tinker Bell, Rumplestiltskin knew that he'd been a fool. He'd meant to leave Norco for last, partially since the fae seemed eager to face him—why else would he have the dagger of the Dark One in his hand if not as bait? Rumplestiltskin didn't need the dagger, not anymore, but he still had no intention of leaving an object of such power in the fae's hands. But he'd not wanted to walk into Norco's trap, either, which was why he'd dealt with the other two fae first—which turned out to be a mistake.

Wheeling around to face Norco, Rumplestiltskin reached deep into the ocean of power and acted on instinct, flinging magic over his shoulder at the stumbling pair of female fae and sending them flying backwards. A second wave of power hammered down, rending them limb from limb and shredding internal organs. It was as pure of dark magic as anything Norco had used on Tink, but Rumplestiltskin was not playing any games. Both fae died, gurgling up blood. This was a war, and there was no time to be nice. He'd never had a problem killing fairies, and despite what the fae called themselves, genetically they were identical to his longtime enemies.

Wind tore out of that vast well of power as Rumplestiltskin's hands shot out, a whirlwind of darkness spiraling through the air towards Norco. Unable to hold Tink within the claws of his magic and defend himself at the same time, the fae threw up a hasty shield and dodged right, but the whirlwind tracked him. Rumplestiltskin watched it emotionlessly, feeling like lightning was sparking in his fingertips. He had never encountered power like this before, not even in his wildest dreams or nightmares. Even facing down the Black Fairy, feeling Merlin's magic race through his body, had not been like this. That had been civilized. This was war.

"Get out of the way," he told Tinker Bell, standing loosely and ready for anything. "I'll deal with the fae."

"I've heard that before, Merlin," Norco spat, rolling to his feet, eyes narrowed and power emulating from him like a toxic cloud. Rumplestiltskin could actually see the fae's fury, could feel it in his bones. It was almost a tangible presence, and emotion had always made for the strongest of magic.

"I bet you have," he replied easily, flinging power at the fae, pure and direct, and watching it sweep Norco off his feet.

However, Norco hit back almost as hard. Even as Tink threw herself aside, the ground around Rumplestiltskin reared up as if to swallow him, dirt and grass forming a thick tornado seeking to suck him away. Small shards of stone started pelting him as Rumplestiltskin snarled in fury, but he didn't want to waste energy, power, or concentration on defending himself against rocks. Instead, he ignored the tornado and struck back, forming power into a metaphorical hammer. He brought it crashing down towards Norco as the fae dodged. The edge of the hammer hit, despite Norco's quick reflexes, sending the slender fae sailing through the air—only for him to disappear in mid-flight and land on his feet off to Rumplestiltskin's right.

Meanwhile, the tornado closed the distance and its winds intensified. Had he been wearing one of his old suits, the cloth would have been torn to shreds, but leather and dragonhide held. Seeing through the maelstrom was growing difficult and the air around him was thick with—Damn. That was dark fairy dust mixed in with the muck. Norco was clever.

Rumplestiltskin vanished and reappeared ten feet behind the fae, fire glowing in his hands and shooting out to engulf his opponent. Normally, he despised close quarters combat against an enemy like this, but Norco might just be powerful enough that he had no choice. Memories whipped through his mind as Norco extinguished the flames. The fae disappeared again and Rumplestiltskin barely managed to dodge before Norco appeared just inches away from his right side, sunlight glinting off of Circe's dagger, his old dagger, as he brought it flashing down.

Throwing himself aside physically—there wasn't time for magic—Rumplestiltskin felt the blade bite into his side, scraping painfully along the bottom edge of his ribcage. Fire immediately raced through his veins and he screamed, feeling the remnants of his old curse stirring both within the dagger and within himself. The dagger could still kill him—like Excalibur, it was a secondary power and one of the very few items that could slay an original power. And it could hurt. Blood oozed outwards from the wound, and acid boiled through his veins. Rumplestiltskin did not need to look at the cut to know that black spider webs of destructive magic were growing outwards from the wound. Norco hadn't poisoned the blade, either. The dagger itself was poison, at least to a man who had been the Dark One. Trying not to scream or double over in pain, Rumplestiltskin's vision swam wildly, the vortex of briefly agony making his vision go white.

Focus! he told himself, blindly blocking a wave of magic meant to knock him unconscious. With an effort, he suppressed the old surge of fear he felt seeing that dagger in someone else's hands. His heart no longer need skip a beat from seeing his blood on the curved blade. The dagger would never control him again. Still, Rumplestiltskin had no intention of leaving such a weapon in Norco's hands.

She can summon it, a memory told him unbidden. That was how the Black Fairy had always controlled her most powerful servant. No matter who held the dagger, it always answered her call.

"Look out!" Tink shouted, and this time Rumplestiltskin had the required moment to teleport clear of the dagger-wielding fae.

Opening the distance between them bought him precious seconds to make his vision clear. Tink was on her feet again, unsteady and clearly in pain, but the determination on the young fairy's face was plain.

He was grateful for the warning, but she was only in the way.

"Get those children out of here," Rumplestiltskin snapped at her, turning to watch as Norco started to laugh—amusement that Rumplestiltskin cut off with a rain of acidic magic the fae had to dodge.

His side was burning wildly.

"Are you sure?" Tink asked uneasily.

"Yes," he replied tightly, reaching again into the ocean of power that was now his own. Rumplestiltskin still wasn't practiced enough with this power, still wasn't used to being able to dig so deep. But now he would have to be.

A flick of his fingers later, and Norco's still snarling tornado of topsoil and stone collapsed. Bits of rock and clumps of grass sprayed the children, but they were mostly shielded by Tink as she meticulously dismantled the magical cage surrounding them. A few bystanders yelped and dodged, but if the fools wanted to be so close to a magical battle, this was their own stupid fault.

"Impressive," Norco sang out, completely ignoring Tink. The children had obviously only ever been meant as bait, as a distraction. Much like Zelena. The fae did so love their games. "But is it good enough, or will you end today back in my Lady's hands?"

"You don't know me very well if you're even asking that question, dearie," Rumplestiltskin retorted, firing off a wave of power that would have killed the average fae.

Norco shrugged it off easily, but Rumplestiltskin smiled. A second spell lay underneath the first, sneaky and—

"Oh, but I know you, Rumplestiltskin," the fae purred, toying with the blood-coated dagger. The vicious hunger in his eyes brought Rumplestiltskin back to hands and pain and screaming. Norco's voice and—

No. Not now. He remembered Norco too well, but now Rumplestiltskin could fight back.

Wind started picking up again, and the sky started to darken as Norco grinned. Storm clouds rushed into existence overhead, and freezing rain started pelting down. Each drop turned into razor sharp needles of ice, and the bystanders started screaming. The ice was almost acidic, burning cold. It easily melted through cloth, seeking bare skin and leaving red welts in its wake. A few drops found Rumplestiltskin's hands and face, and had he not been so focused, he would probably have flinched wildly away from the pain. Still, he was better off than most; leather resisted melting, and his magic protected him more than it did not, even as the wind howled loudly enough to drown out the cries of pain.

Weather magic had always been a fae specialty, but Rumplestiltskin hijacked it. With his other spell still growing in the background, his hands came up and he claimed control of the storm. Cutting off the thread causing the freezing rain, he then closed his fists and brought his hands whipping down. Magic ripped through his veins like sweet electricity, and a pair of lightning bolts crashed out of the clouds. You really shouldn't have given me such a powerful storm to play with, sunshine.

The ground under their feet shook, and Norco tried to dodge. But Rumplestiltskin smiled and the lighting tracked the fae unerringly, striking Norco in the chest and hammering him into the dirt with a dull thud. His fingers popped open as he hit the ground hard, freeing the bloody dagger to bounce away from the fae. Rumplestiltskin had been waiting for that moment; he would never have been able to summon the dagger out of someone else's hand, out of their control. He never had been able to. But once Norco lost control of it, the Dark One's dagger became fair game.

Immediately, the dagger sailed into Rumplestiltskin's left hand, coming home like an old friend. Shivering slightly—and feeling his side burn all the more—he closed his fingers around the grip. It was colder than he remembered, heavy with darkness from the curse and the demon now living inside it, but the dagger was still his. A corner of his soul would always feel a connection, no matter how broken his curse was.

Stepping forward, Rumplestiltskin watched as Norco tried to rise, and then brought another pair of lightning bolts down upon him with a flick of his right wrist. Finally, the fae howled in pain and frustration, and as Norco's concentration slipped, Rumplestiltskin's waiting spell pounced. It froze the fae into place, temporarily paralyzing him—and Rumplestiltskin poured power into the slight gap in Norco's defenses, overcoming his attempts to strike back and driving a wedge between Norco and his magic. Norco was at least a thousand years older than he was and extremely well versed in fairy, fae, and human magic, but all it took was one tiny slip. A slip he had made.

Eyes wide in fear and shock, Norco stared up at Rumplestiltskin when he stepped up to loom over him. Power arched between them, actually visible to the non-magical eye as the storm retreated, reflecting sunlight almost like a multi-stranded mirror made of liquid. A soft hum filled the air; original power or not, even Rumplestiltskin had to work to keep a millennia and a half old fae isolated from power. A momentary headache reared up from the strain, pounding and savage enough to make Rumplestiltskin's vision swim again. Human body, human limitations, he reminded himself, remembering passing out in his castle's courtyard. And yet—unbidden, his magic raced up to meet the pain, moving faster than Rumplestiltskin could react. And then the headache vanished as a strange chill ran down his spine. Rumplestiltskin felt power settling deeper within him than ever before. Suddenly, restraining Norco was just a little easier.

His side was still burning with poisonous pain, still bleeding. But there was nothing he'd ever been able to do about that.

"Kill me," the fae panted, still fighting to free his magic. He was starting to break loose from the physical paralysis, so Rumplestiltskin held out a hand, palm down.

Norco froze.

"No." The word came out almost before Rumplestiltskin consciously changed his mind, but the smile was all him, crafty and nasty. Not Merlin. "I don't think I will."

"What?"

"You're going to deliver a message to Danns' a'Bhàis for me," he told Norco instead, his voice ice cold. "You're going to tell her not to harm those under my protection, lest she make an enemy out of her 'old friend'."

Norco scoffed. "You can't protect them all."

"But I don't need to." Who could defend all of humanity? Merlin had never managed. Rumplestiltskin didn't care to. Now his smile grew slow and dangerous. "Tell Danns that though I make a very bad enemy, I make a much better friend."

"She already knows what you are, Merlin."

Interesting how Norco swapped between what he called him. Did he, too, believe that Merlin was in control? If so, he clearly thought what little remained of Rumplestiltskin was merely the broken and frightened man he'd been in Bremen. Between them, Norco and Danns had made certain that there were scars on his psyche that would never heal, pain he could never forget. Yet they didn't understand that he'd been different, then. Now Rumplestiltskin had hope, and the power to protect those he loved. And he would pay whatever price the magic required to do just that.

"Does she?" he countered easily, knowing that she didn't.

Norco was still fighting his hold, and pain made his words sharp: "She knows what you will be, Dark One."

"Oh, it's a bit late for that, dear," Rumplestiltskin laughed, his genuine amusement a surprise to even himself. Oh, the Black Fairy could force the curse back into him—the possibility of that happening would exist for as long as he lived, no matter what Rumplestiltskin did—but he knew how to fight her, too. He'd resisted even when he couldn't touch magic, and now Rumplestiltskin knew enough to know that even the Black Fairy couldn't keep him isolated from power forever.

Yet even with his immense power rolling through him, Rumplestiltskin couldn't hold Norco indefinitely, so Rumplestiltskin waved a hand to release the fae. Norco staggered to his feet immediately, glaring.

"Deliver my message," he told the fae who had once tortured him so gleefully, burning to kill him but knowing that doing so would make an implacable enemy of the Black Fairy. Norco had always been her favorite…and there was a plan forming in his mind.

Besides which, sometimes humiliating your enemy was a far sweeter revenge than death ever could be.

"And if I don't?" Norco demanded, still shaky and breathless and hiding it behind bluster.

"Don't tempt me to kill you," Rumplestiltskin hissed, magic rearing up in response to his fury, tingling in his fingers and ready to strike. A cold wind whipped up between them as Norco obviously felt the power and tried too obviously not to flinch. Rumplestiltskin leaned in close to him, his face just inches away, and continued in a whisper: "You're useful to me now, as a peace offering. Don't change that…precipitously."

Norco was brave; he glared back.

"Now go." Rumplestiltskin flicked his fingers, knocking the fae back with magic. Norco kept his balance—most wouldn't have managed—but still stumbled several steps away.

Rumplestiltskin!

The timing of the call could not have been more perfect unless it had come a few minutes later, but Rumplestiltskin's heart hammered into his throat anyway. Desperation always made his name carry further and louder, and he could feel the worry behind the call. He'd felt that a thousand times, but never in his True Love's voice.

Norco vanished, and Rumplestiltskin turned to look at Tinker Bell. She was fine, and she'd heal the children that needed help or townspeople injured by the freezing rain. He didn't bother to tell her that he needed to leave; she'd figure it out.

Belle needed him.

A/N: Stay Tuned for Chapter 27: "Old Grudges", in which Belle, Ruby, Emma, and Hook reach the King's Cave, Maleficent visits the Dark Castle, and someone turns traitor.

In the meantime, do you think Rumplestiltskin not having killed Norco is a tactical error, or is it all a part of a larger game he's playing?