Chapter Thirty-One—"At All Costs"
"Are there tire tracks on me?" Regina asked tiredly after Robin lowered her into her own bed. Every bone in her body still ached, and just looking at her bruised arms made her head hurt. The infernal blue bug had healed her—and wasn't that insulting—but Regina still felt terrible.
"Tire tracks?" Robin looked puzzled. "Is that another Storybrooke reference, love?"
Regina grimaced. "Nevermind." Oh, her head was spinning, but that was Henry bouncing onto the bed next to her, and hugging her tight, and suddenly it didn't matter how much it hurt.
"Careful, Henry—" Snow tried to warn him, probably seeing when Regina winced in pain, but she waved her stepdaughter/son's grandmother off.
"It's fine." I thought I was going to die for him. Of course he can hug me! Regina even scraped up a smile for Henry, who looked so much like the little boy he'd once been that it made her heart clench when he pulled back. How was it that worry could make a child look so much younger?
"You saved us, Mom," Henry beamed.
"Of course I did." Despite her resolve to look fine, Regina coughed. "I wasn't letting any fairy take my son."
If her eyes found the Blue Fairy, who was still standing near the doorway, having not heard the subtle invitation to leave that Robin had offered when he'd picked Regina up to carry her out of the great hall, well, that wasn't an accident. Gratitude for the Blue Fairy healing her—fine, saving her life—wasn't enough to make Regina let her take Henry away.
"No one is," Snow put in, surprisingly firmly, and now she was looking at Blue.
We really do make a great team, don't we? Too bad I didn't figure this out years ago, Regina thought dizzily. But it had to be the head pain making her think things like that. She'd certainly never say such things aloud.
"Snow, I understand your worry for your grandson, but you must see that he is in danger here," the fairy replied immediately. "The Black Fairy will not stop until she has him under her control, because she knows what a threat he is to her."
"And whose fault is that?" Snow demanded before Regina could get in. "If you weren't determined to use Henry's heart to control her, would the Black Fairy even care about him?"
"The Heart of the Truest Believer—"
"Can control an original power, yes, we know," Regina cut her off, struggling to sit up.
"Regina, love, you shouldn't…" Robin started, only to stop when she glared at him. "Fine then. Let me help you."
"I don't need help," she snapped, but accepted it anyway. Just because it was Robin. And because the pillows he propped up behind her really were very comfortable. Then she returned her fury to the Blue Fairy, a much more satisfying target for her ire. "As I was saying, at this point, I can't really blame her if she wants to control you. How long did you have her in exile for, anyway?"
"Not long enough, as you will shortly see," Blue retorted stiffly. "You may not like me, Queen Regina—and the rest of you may deplore my methods—but I have done what must be done in order to keep our entire world safe. My sister's actions will undoubtedly prove that to you before long if she is allowed to run unchecked."
"What, like you are?" Regina countered.
"Under no circumstances are you getting Henry's heart," Snow picked up the fight again. "Now, are you willing to fight with us, or are you going to be our enemy?"
"I am not your enemy, Snow. I never have been." Blue could look really earnest. Regina had to give her that.
"Why did you exile her, anyway?" Henry asked suddenly, still sitting at Regina's side.
"Her evil—"
"Like what?" Henry pressed, and Regina didn't even try to hide her smile. Henry had always been brilliant, and she was so proud of him that it hurt.
Or maybe that was just her ribs aching from that last blast of magic. Ouch.
"You would not understand, child," Blue said loftily.
"Oh, great. So, you want my heart, but you're not willing to explain to me why your sister's so evil. This really sounds like a killer sibling rivalry, you know," he retorted, and Regina snorted with laughter when Blue went white.
"The lad's got a point," Robin joined in, and Regina had to smile at him. First he threatened the Blue Fairy for her, and now he was backing her son up. She really had found herself a good man, even if she had complained about his forest smell in the beginning.
The Blue Fairy drew herself up proudly, and for a moment Regina thought she was actually going to storm out. Had she done so, the Evil Queen might have respected the fairy a little bit more, but instead Blue continued to argue. "I will not detail events for you that happened over a thousand years before the births of any of you," she replied imperiously. "Any fairy can tell you of the evil my sister has wrought, but if you require an example, the creation of the first Dark One should be ample evidence that she has no one's best interests in mind. She must be stopped."
"No one's disagreeing with you on that," Snow pointed out. "We just don't approve of your methods."
"So, your first castle, huh?" Neal asked her with a grin as they stood on in the throne room.
"Not quite." Emma shrugged. "But I'll admit that the first one was kind of run down. I did get to see my nursery in it, so it might be a draw. That, and you know, I've been living in the Dark Castle for months. Just like you."
But she said the words teasingly, smiling at her…well, whatever he was. Neal's sense of humor had never been terribly smooth, but he was always genuine, and he was always fun. Maybe that was what she liked about him—Neal was terrible at lying, and he usually wore his heart on his sleeve. He wasn't suave, he wasn't silver-tongued, and he wasn't the sort of man Emma had ever imagined staying with. Yet she'd chosen him twice now, warts and all, and foolish comments like that weren't going to chase her away.
"Oh. Yeah. Oops." His grin was infectious, and Emma found herself laughing with him. "Guess I forgot about that."
"Well, to be fair to you, I think my family does own this one," she pointed out. "Or Regina does. These politics are so damn confusing."
"I hear you," he said with feeling. "But at least we've got the castle back, right? And I think this means we've actually won the war."
Emma strode over to look at a bookshelf, feeling strangely at ease. She'd never even been here before, but somehow places like this were becoming familiar. Did that say something about how Emma had grown in the last few months, or was that just the company she was keeping? It was all so crazy. A few months ago, she'd been a bail bondsperson living in New York City. Now she was a princess, dating a knight. Dating? Was that what they were doing? Emma had no idea how to define their relationship, particularly not in Enchanted Forest terms.
"So…what now?" she asked after a moment.
"Hell if I know. Maybe we'll get some peace?"
Emma turned to smile at him, and the relaxed expression still felt a little strange on her face. Part of Emma was still so used to conflict, even after the year of sort-of peace in New York. Every moment she'd spent in this world or in Storybrooke had been spent fighting to break a curse or to reunite her family, and she almost didn't know what to do with anything else. "That'd be nice."
"You gonna stay here?" Neal asked after a moment, sounding nervous.
"In this castle?" she asked dumbly.
"In the Enchanted Forest."
"Oh." Emma felt like a fool, and she felt her heart clench. Her instinct was to respond vaguely, to delay and avoid answering the question head on. Emma was straightforward by nature, but she also was cautious about commitment. And yet—she'd promised herself that she'd grab a hold of this moment with both hands and never let go. "Yeah. I figured I might, anyway."
"Really?" Neal gaped.
The look on his face made every bit of heartache from the last twelve years worth it, somehow. Perhaps fighting for love really did make it stronger.
Emma smiled. "Really. I…want this, Neal. I want us. Us, and Henry, and all the complicated things that make our families ours. The thought of going back to New York at this point would just be boring. And I want more than boring."
"You don't worry that the war ending will make things boring, then?" Neal teased her, wrapping an arm around her waist.
"I'm sure that you'll find some way to keep me entertained." And no, Neal might not have been a super suave romance novel hero, but he wasn't a fool, either. In fact, he was pretty damn smart, and he certainly caught the hint she was throwing her way.
He arched an eyebrow at her suggestively. "Well, are you up for some exploration?"
"You bet I am."
"He has the dagger, my lady," Norco said quietly, watching the Fae Queen's face carefully. Her expression never changed, but he could see the angry tick in her right eye. Danns always had that tick after facing off with her sister. Ruel had always frustrated her, and to be so close to keeping her freedom, only to have Ruel steal the moment away, obviously burned. Norco knew little about the sisters' encounter at the Dark Castle, but it was obvious that Ruel's arrival had denied Danns the opportunity to fetch the Truest Believer.
"You fool."
Her voice was flat, and yet for once there was not a trace of affection in Danns' tone. It stung, and Norco sat back in his chair to stare at her. Yes, now there was a glimmer of anger in her eyes, and the anger was at him. This was not a feeling to which Norco was accustomed; he had always been Danns' favorite, going all the way back to the original wars for magic. Seeing her disappointed was…unnerving.
"You can summon it back," he pointed out, a bit stiffly.
Danns' head finally whipped around to look at him. "I could summon it from the Dark One," she hissed. "Not Merlin. He will know, and he will prevent me. And without that dagger, I cannot recreate the curse inside him."
"I thought you were considering not doing so." Norco's breath caught in his throat, remembering his own duel with the man who might indeed be Merlin. Being defeated in that manner was not an experience upon which he preferred to dwell. In fact, he preferred to soothe his bruised ego with thoughts of the ways in which he could make the sorcerer regret his mocking victory. But if Danns wanted to ally with the human, Norco could do nothing.
Danns' a'Bhàis was not the type to vent her fury upon her most loyal followers—she had other toys for such pursuits— but she was also not one to forget a failure. This was not the first time Norco had ever failed her, although it might prove to be the most dangerous. He knew that she would never harm him, not after so many years together, but she was still angry. At him. And that only stoked his fury. Yet even as his own anger bubbled hotter, Norco watched his mistress' temper abate. She would save her wrath, he knew. Bottle it up until it became useful, until she could strike with cold precision that would only feed the boiling rage of her magic once it was unleashed. Such was her way, and he admired her for it.
She waited a long moment before answering: "It depends upon which one is in control. Your thoughts?"
"I cannot tell if they are working together or if they are battling for control," Norco answered honestly. Only a fool would lie to his Lady, and a fool he was not. "There were moments I believe I recognized Merlin, and his power was certainly at work. Yet I also broke through to Rumplestiltskin at least once. Merlin has not yet banished him entirely. Perhaps he cannot?"
"Hm." She folded her hands primly, and magic swept around the room they occupied. Slowly, the furnishings changed from dark red replacing the blue hue, still with a silver and black overlay. The chair Danns occupied shifted to a luxurious chaise lounge, and her furious demeanor relaxed as she leaned back comfortably. "What were your other impressions?"
"The skill must belong to Merlin," he said immediately. "No Dark One has ever acquired such learning."
"Rumplestiltskin has survived longer than any other," she pointed out, her voice almost a purr.
"He was still only the Dark One," Norco dismissed her point with a wave of one hand.
"True enough." Though there was an edge in Danns voice that Norco had not expected, and he resisted the scowl that wanted to rise.
The day Merlin had succumbed to Danns' curse had the best day of Norco's long life. Given that he was nearly as old as magic, that was a spectacular distinction—but watching the human sorcerer break had been beautiful. In one fell swoop, Merlin's defeat had cleared the way for Danns to win the ongoing war between herself and her sister and removed Norco's rival for her affections. From there on out, Merlin had merely been a tool for her, and although she'd used successive Dark Ones in her various ways, Norco had become her closest confidant once Merlin was out of the way.
Frankly, he would prefer that Merlin remain banished instead of allowing the old man to inhabit the body of the last Dark One. Failing that, Norco was a strong advocate of Danns' original intention to recreate the curse within him—after all, doing so might bury Merlin entirely and leave them with only Rumplestiltskin. And even if it did not, Merlin would be chained by the same magic and same restrictions as the other eighteen Dark Ones had been, even if he did regain some of the sense of self that Danns had destroyed during the creation of that curse. He had told her as much, and cited many logical reasons to explain why Merlin's powers needed to be harnessed. Danns could not afford to have the wildcard peacemaker wandering about of his own free will, not when she had finally broken out of her exile and was on equal terms with her sister.
The truth, however, was that Norco did not appreciate competition. The best case scenario was Rumplestiltskin as the Dark One once more, with Merlin forever buried. Danns had not forgotten how she felt about Merlin, he knew, and Norco meant to protect his position as her favorite. At all costs.
Careful to control his expression, he offered: "He bade me deliver a message to you."
"Oh?"
"Something about not harming those under his protection," Norco replied flippantly; really, that had been something terribly foolish and so Merlin that it made him sick. The rest, however, had been far more interesting. "And also that he makes a very bad enemy, but a much better friend."
The Black Fairy sat up straight, her relaxed sprawl forgotten. Hazel eyes turned intense. "Did he now?"
Norco really didn't like the sudden interest in her gaze.
"Yes." He would not lie to her; no matter where Danns affections lay, he would always be loyal to her.
"Well, then," she purred, and suddenly the dangerous edge was back, the one he utterly worshiped. "Then we shall have to offer him our friendship."
Norco felt a return smile tugging on his face. Oh, this is going to be glorious! Clearly there was enough of Rumplestiltskin still within Merlin to be frightened—he'd seen that look in the sorcerer's eyes when he'd taunted him during their battle. And that meant that Merlin probably had no idea what Danns' friendship could entail. She was not the sort to accept anything but a full alliance from a friend, and that meant that Merlin—or Rumplestiltskin—had inadvertently offered himself. His full self. Danns would certainly interpret it that way, Norco knew, and she would be furious if Merlin attempted to offer anything less than the keys to his soul.
The stubborn fool probably would make that mistake, too, and that knowledge only made Norco's smile grow. Then Danns' fury would demand she remake the curse of the Dark One, and force Merlin into being her unwilling servant once more. And while Norco knew better than anyone that a servant could still be a favorite, the rage and darkness simmering within that curse meant that a mere Dark One would never be Danns' equal.
That was, he reflected, a near perfect solution to his own problem. Merlin had started playing a game that he should have remembered the rules to and did not. Be it on his own head. Let him think he can threaten me. In the end, he'll still be Danns' slave, while I remain her favorite. So it was with a light step that Norco headed to his own chambers, ready to enjoy playing with his current toy. The dwarf had proven more amusing than he had expected, after all, and Norco deserved a treat.
Henry's heart rate had finally calmed down to something approaching normal. If watching his mother face off against the Black Fairy wasn't one of the most terrifying moments of his life, Henry wasn't sure what had been worse. Even watching one of his grandfathers kill Pan hadn't been quite so bad—that had happened so fast that Henry barely had a chance to register what was happening. The battle between Regina and the Black Fairy had been much longer, however, and gave Henry plenty of time to face the fact that he might just be losing Regina all over again…and that if he did, he might wind up as nothing but some vessel for a heart that the Black Fairy needed.
But Regina had saved him. She'd almost died doing it—and thinking of that just made him hold her hand even harder—but she'd held off the Black Fairy until Blue could arrive. And part of Henry really did see why Blue was so determined to stop her sister. The Black Fairy oozed power and danger, and he'd been dead certain that she was going to win. But Grandpa Gold is right. Even if I gave Blue my heart, how would she get it into the other fairy? Henry felt guilty for the relief that coursed through him at that thought. He didn't want to give up his heart, not after what had happened last time. He wanted to live a normal life with his family, abnormal as his family was.
Particularly since his parents—well, Emma and his father, anyway—seemed to be trying to get back together. Henry had walked in on them one morning in his dad's rooms at the Dark Castle and had run out again before he could decide how much clothing they weren't wearing under the covers, but he was still really happy to see them giving it a go. He'd been really excited when they weren't to the Christening together, but that was even better. Between that and Regina and Robin, Henry's confused family only seemed to be growing, and he couldn't be happier.
Well. Having the most powerful beings in the entire world not being after his heart would have made things a lot better. Particularly when the Blue Fairy was only glaring at his grandmother stubbornly. "There is only one way to stop her," Blue said, obviously growing angry.
"Find another," Snow retorted.
"If there were another, don't you think I would have found it by now?" the fairy countered.
"No. I don't think you would," a new voice put in, and Henry's head snapped around to watch his paternal grandfather stride into the room with Belle on his heels. Rumplestiltskin's expression was sharp—as it usually was when he and Blue were anywhere even remotely near one another—but his eyes were darker and more dangerous than Henry was used to seeing them.
The fairy stiffened. "You know nothing."
"My dear Ruel Ghorm, I know far more than you would like me to," the sorcerer replied with a chuckle. The smile he flashed her was nowhere near kind. "I did tell you that I inherited Merlin's memories along with those of my other predecessors, did I not?" A slender finger pointed at her. "And I remember how you trapped her, who helped you. You'll not have that advantage now."
"Are you saying that you would refuse to do your part?"
"My part? The fact that one of my predecessors helped you trap her leaves me with no obligation to do so. I also seem to recall you betraying him in turn and handing the dagger off to some petty king or another, after you had promised to free him."
Blue scowled. "You of all people should know that power required controlling." Her next words, however, seemed to escape before she could stop them: "You were never like your predecessors."
Henry couldn't figure out if that last bit was supposed to be an insult or a compliment. It sounded like both. Rumplestiltskin seemed to take it as neither and only quirked a noncommittal smile. Belle, however, seemed annoyed.
"You never have understood that, have you?" she asked, as if it was part of an ongoing argument. Blue glared back, but Rumplestiltskin shrugged.
"No, I never have been." Henry seemed to be the only one who noticed how the dragonhide coat stuck to his side as he stepped further into the room, removing a dagger from someplace inside the coat and pulling out a wavy-bladed dagger. There was blood on the blade, smeared and half-dried. "Nor will I ever be."
That comment only made the Blue Fairy's scowl deepen. Henry had his own theories about why Blue wasn't happy that his grandfather's curse was broken, but most of them revolved around the fact that it meant Rumplestiltskin could no longer be controlled. The legendary dagger was blank, now; Henry'd been able to see both sides of it before Rumplestiltskin put it down on a nearby table, almost as if he was daring someone to try to take it. But no one so much as twitched in that direction, even Blue. She only stared at the dagger for a long moment, silent until Rumplestiltskin spoke up once more, his voice soft and threatening.
"I have already told you what will happen if you try to take my grandson's heart. Have you forgotten already?"
"I came here to help, not to take Henry away," Blue snapped.
"Good. Apparently you can learn something, after all."
"And apparently you cannot." The fairy's chin came up, and there was something she was hinting at that Henry was missing. Why was no one else interjecting in this conversation? Henry could sense the dangerous undercurrents swirling around them, and actually thought he could feel a strain in the very magic surrounding both his grandfather and Blue. Did the other adults want this to turn into a fight?
Regina might, but Snow knew that they needed Blue. Didn't she?
"The alliance you are building is doomed to failure without the fairies," Blue continued. "Do you think humanity can defeat the fae without us?"
"Do you dare find out?" Regina spoke up from the bed for the first time, and Henry twisted to look at his mother. "Because then people might realize they don't need you, and then where would you be?"
Blue looked at her like she was a child younger than Henry, which made him bristle. "The fairies will always be needed."
"Not if you bow out now, you won't."
"We've had this discussion already," Rumplestiltskin cut back in. "Pick a side, dearie, or leave the dance."
"You're starting to sound like her," was the soft response, suddenly dangerous. Threatening? "This is not over."
"Give me a break," Henry's adopted mother snapped. "Of course it isn't. It never is. Particularly with you."
Rumplestiltskin only smiled, but the Blue Fairy departed in a flurry of fairy dust and grace, somehow managing to look like she thought she'd won. Watching her look like that made a funny feeling rise in Henry's stomach; he wasn't exactly afraid of her, but he was worried that she had something else up her sleeve. Who would have thought that Pan wanting his heart would eventually seem so minor? As long as Blue wanted it, the Black Fairy would want it, too, and that meant Henry's life was probably never going to be normal. Not as long as he lived.
"I hear you had an interesting afternoon," his grandfather said mildly. Predictably, it got under his mother's skin.
"Your timing is as lousy as usual," she snapped back. "You couldn't have gotten here when the other fairy was here? Now I owe my life to that bug."
Rumplestiltskin chuckled. "I'm sure you'll survive the experience."
"How kind of you."
But Henry could tell that they were only sniping at one another as per usual; there was no venom in the words, and both looked tired. He understood why Regina looked so out of it, but was with Rumplestiltskin?
"What happened to your side, Grandpa?" he asked curiously.
"A minor run in with a fae." He shrugged casually, but Henry thought he spotted a slight wince as he moved. "Worth the trouble."
"And you couldn't have mentioned this sooner?" Belle immediately moved to his right side, shoving the coat away so she could look at the wound.
Rumplestiltskin sucked in a quick breath, flinching in pain, and even from where Henry sat on the bed next to Regina, the still-bleeding wound looked horrible. Henry saw a bit of it through his grandfather's torn vest and shirt, and although his blood looked red and normal enough, the wound itself was a black and purple and a mess. It looked like an infection run wild, and Henry couldn't contain his curiosity. So, he hopped off the bed and went over to join them.
"Can I help?"
"There's nothing to be done for it," Rumplestiltskin said before Belle could answer, earning himself a fearsome scowl from her. "It wasn't worth mentioning."
"Rumple, I love you, but you have to be the dumbest man alive." Belle rolled her eyes, and Henry snickered at the offended look on his grandfather's face. Snow looked a little shocked to hear someone say that to Rumplestiltskin, of all people, but Regina piped up immediately.
"I could have told you that years ago," Regina put in from the bed, and suddenly everyone laughed. Henry, however, was not deterred—the closer he got, the worse his grandfather's wound looked.
"Did the dagger do that?" he asked curiously, picking the weapon up off the table and looking at the blood on the blade.
His observation earned him a tight half smile. "Indeed it did. An unfortunate side effect that remains of my curse, I'm afraid. I can't heal the wound."
"You're admitting that you can't do something?" Regina obviously couldn't resist putting in, despite Robin's attempts to hush her. "Perhaps we should have invited Blue to stay."
"No thank you." Rumplestiltskin scowled at her.
Belle had his coat off by now and was peeling aside the layers of clothing around the wound as Snow headed over to the wash basin to fetch a bowl of water and some clean cloths. Henry's grandfather looked annoyed by the attention, but shrugged off his vest when Belle pulled at it, grimacing.
"This looks infected. How long ago did it happen?"
"A few hours. Ouch." Rumplestiltskin had started to shrug, but cringed away when Belle tried to unstick the part of his shirt that blood had pasted to his side. "And it's not infected."
"It certainly looks like it is. It looks horrible," Snow put in, reaching Belle's side, and Henry wondered for a moment if his grandfather might explode with annoyance. He certainly didn't seem to be enjoying the sudden attention, judging from the scowl on his face. But Henry was smart enough to guess that Rumplestiltskin was using his irritation to mask pain; the lines around his eyes were deeper than ever, and his expression was rigid.
"No, it isn't," he answered tightly as Belle started cleaning out the still-oozing wound. "The blade of the dagger is toxic. It's like poison."
Hearing that made Henry drop the dagger, and all the adults turned to stare at him.
"Henry! Are you all right?" Snow asked, reaching for the offending weapon.
"I'm fine," he answered quickly. "Sorry."
"It's quite all right," Rumplestiltskin replied with a ghost of a smile. "The blade can't hurt you like that. Just me."
"Oh. That's good."
"Damn right it is," Regina muttered, but she seemed to be drifting off to sleep again. Meanwhile, Snow picked up the dagger.
"I'll be having that back, dear," Rumplestiltskin said softly.
"I thought you said it couldn't control you?"
"It can't. But I'm a bit partial to it, particularly since I just half-killed one of the world's most powerful fae to get it back." The words were dangerous, but the tone was conversational, and it hit Henry—not for the first time—that he really didn't know his grandfather very well at all. He wasn't cursed now, but Rumplestiltskin was still very dangerous if crossed, wasn't he? "The dagger, if you please."
Henry had to give his grandmother credit; Snow didn't even hesitate before handing the dagger back to the former Dark One. "Of course."
"Thank you."
Belle broke in before Henry could ask how else Rumplestiltskin was still tied to the dagger. "Hold still," she ordered in a tone that no one in the room would have argued with. "This is going to hurt."
Henry almost laughed at the way Rumplestiltskin went all meek and mild, but decided that now was not a good time to tweak his grandfather's tail. His father would probably have gotten away with it—there wasn't much he'd seen his dad hesitate to say—but Henry was still trying to get to know Rumplestiltskin, and he was smart enough to wait. Besides, he liked Belle an awful lot, and it was nice to see someone able to boss Rumplestiltskin around.
A/N: Thank you again to all the wonderful reviewers out there! Your feedback is what keeps me writing quickly enough to post twice a week.
Stay tuned for Chapter 32: "A Flicker of Light", in which Rumplestiltskin's wound causes problems, a character makes a surprising return, and Emma and Baelfire run into unexpected trouble.
Now, my questions for you 1) What kind of problem do you think having been stabbed with the dagger will cause Rumplestiltskin and 2) which character do you think will be returning to OP?