Chapter Thirty-Two—"A Flicker of Light"

He'd left a trigger on the fae, of course. Norco might have thought Rumplestiltskin was only letting him go in order to offer peace to Danns' a'Bhàis, but nothing Rumplestiltskin did was ever that simple. Had there been less magic flying around during their fight, he might not have managed to tag Norco the way he had, but the small spell had snuck in under Norco's very effective defenses and lay dormant, just waiting for a conversation to happen. Merlin's memories indicated that Norco would go straight to the Black Fairy after what their battle, and by the time Rumplestiltskin escaped Belle's ministrations, Regina's woozy attitude, Snow's unexpected compassion, and Henry's surprisingly astute questions, the information he needed was waiting for him.

Scrying was becoming a lost art amongst sorcerers, but it was one he'd practiced since almost the beginning. Being able to see the future meant that Rumplestiltskin had less need of it than most, but he'd invented a spell that combined it with a simple trigger and allowed him one-time access to another's surroundings and conversations. The spell only lasted a few hours, but its results were waiting in the bowl for him when he made it to his tower workroom the next morning. His side was aching, and he knew that if he removed the bandages Belle had insisted on wrapping him in, the wound would look still worse, but there would be time for that later. For the moment, he had work to do.

Rumplestiltskin waved a hand over the shallow silver dish, watching figures slowly resolve on the foggy surface of the water. A vague part of his mind recognized the blue, silver, and black chamber in which the two figures sat, but Rumplestiltskin filed that bit of knowledge away for later. Far more interesting were the two fae seated before a hearth glowing with magical embers.

"The trap was sprung," Norco told Danns' a'Bhàis, looking distinctly unhappy. His angular face was tight with fury—and that made Rumplestiltskin smile. "He has the dagger, my lady."

"You fool," Danns' replied, and the memories within Rumplestiltskin knew the anger in her eyes, saw it boiling quietly under the surface and waiting to erupt. She burned cold, Danns' a'Bhàis did, but when her fury erupted, it was always well and truly terrifying.

He listened as the two spoke, but watched more. Norco was still bitter over his defeat, of course, but Danns' reaction was more interesting. She still thought—hoped?—he was Merlin. That much was obvious. Focusing, however, took more of an effort than Rumplestiltskin had expected. His side was still burning, ominously so. He'd cut himself with the dagger before—years ago, experimentally—and it hadn't been this bad, or at least not that he recalled. Perhaps because the wound had not been so deep?

"What were your other impressions?" she asked after a few minutes, and Rumplestiltskin turned his mind back to the conversation.

"The skill must belong to Merlin," Norco replied immediately, his face twisting up in an arrogant snarl. "No Dark One has ever acquired such learning."

That made Rumplestiltskin chuckle and forget about the poisonous ache in his side. He'd indulged her assumptions on a whim, but now it was truly bearing fruit.

"Rumplestiltskin has survived longer than any other," Danns' pointed out, her voice almost a purr. Merlin's memories twinged; Merlin had loved this side of her, the smart and the calculating woman hidden underneath the power. Rumplestiltskin could respect this, but that purr reminded him of a voice that spoke during years' worth of torture, not of anything good.

"He was still only the Dark One," Norco dismissed her point with a wave of one hand, and Rumplestiltskin could tell that Danns believed that. How was it that neither of them understood how very much he'd studied, learned, about magic? He'd had three hundred years to do so—admittedly far longer than any of his predecessors, but still, some of them must have been more than just creatures of raw power.

Didn't they? His own memories said otherwise. So he watched as the two discussed their assumptions, and then as Norco left, striding down ever-changing corridors to his own domain. The home of the fae was magic, Rumplestiltskin realized, and was not constructed out of stone at all, despite what it looked like. It was an extraordinary display of power, maintained for over two thousand years without flickering for a moment. But the surroundings were not nearly so important as Norco's destination—because the male fae took a left out of his own chambers and suddenly entered a dungeon.

"Come back for more, you bastard?" Grumpy slurred from behind a mask of blood.

The dwarf was chained against a wall, bloody and battered, and looked like he'd seen better days. But the antagonistic expression he wore never wavered, particularly not when faced by the fae who had killed his True Love. However, his defiance only made Norco laugh and throw a dark ball of magic at him, which made Grumpy scream in pain for several long minutes. Finally, the fae released the dwarf from his spell, leaving Grumpy shaking and shuddering but trying to swear at him.

But Rumplestiltskin lost Norco's cheerful reply when blackness suddenly reared up and knocked him off his feet.

"Rumple?" The word drifted down to him without meaning at first, from a voice he knew but his mind could not process. Hands shook his left arm gently, and then more urgently. "Rumple, please, wake up. Please."

Oh. He was Rumple. She was talking to him. But why did that matter? A swirl of memories overrode his consciousness, images of hands and pain and screaming and fighting when he couldn't fight anymore—but then lips pressed to his forehead and an explosion of pure magic roared into him.

"Rumple, please," Belle whispered again, and somehow the memories of chains and torture receded. Yet a voice still lingered, dark and seductive, whispering in the buried recesses of his mind. Destroy them all. Prove your power. Slowly, Rumplestiltskin opened his eyes, squinting against the brightness of sun streaming into his tower. Destroy this one first.

"Hey," he whispered. His side was burning wildly, the pain spreading outwards from the wound. That familiar voice within him hated this pain, rebelled against it, wanted him to fight and to kill because of it—but Belle's worried face swam into focus and guilt crashed down to replace the growing fury. Why was he always doing this to her?

"You're awake," she breathed, and Rumplestiltskin looked into brilliant blue eyes so full of love and relief that it made his heart clench.

"Yeah," he breathed, feeling the acid still rushing through his veins. Darkness still…still what? "Sorry…about that." It took an effort to focus, but once he managed to, it got easier. "How long was I out for?"

"I don't know. You came up here hours ago. I only just got here, and found you unconscious," his love replied, leaning over to kiss him lightly.

Magic echoed through Rumplestiltskin again, and for a moment, the pain in his side eased. He'd always known that True Love's kiss was powerful, but he had never once thought it might be enough to overcome the acidic effect that the Dark One's dagger had upon him. Would that still been the case had he still been under his curse? There was no way to know, but Rumplestiltskin still wondered. And yet—

Of course. What a fool he was. That voice inside him was the curse trying to creep in through the wound in his side. It wasn't a poison that Danns' had put on the dagger in case he ever regained it; no, this was far worse. She'd planned for this possibility. There was no poison running through his veins, and this was not just the acidic bite of a secondary power. This was the curse of the Dark One, designed to capture any foothold it could in his soul. The dagger alone was enough to do him serious harm, but the curse… He could feel it building by the moment, and terror threatened to close his throat off. He had been free. Rumplestiltskin would not go back to being owned by that demon, and he would not be someone's slave.

"Kiss me again," he said suddenly, knowing the answer and remembering their first disastrous kiss, three decades ago. "It's working."

"What?" Belle echoed his own confusion of forever ago, and now it was Rumplestiltskin's hand on her cheek, pulling her face to his as he managed to sit up. But Belle did not resist, instead leaning into him and meeting his lips with her own.

Thirty years ago, he had been terrified by this feeling. Now, Rumplestiltskin relished it, closing his eyes as pure and sweet power tore through him, banishing the growing darkness even as it tried to sink sharp claws into his soul. Belle's soft hands cupped his face, just like she had so long ago, and for one brilliant, heartbreaking moment, Rumplestiltskin allowed himself to wonder what might have happened had he not driven her away out of desperation and fear, so many years before. Might he have discovered this power then, have never broken her heart, and still managed to find his son? There was no way to know, but now—now—now she was freeing him again, freeing him from chains that even now shattered.

Rumplestiltskin could feel his curse's hold shattering before his skin could start changing, could feel the power of True Love roaring through him and saving him. Again.

"I love you," he whispered when they broke from the kiss, leaning his forehead against hers. They were still on the floor. Rumplestiltskin was now sitting up, with his side still aching, but now it was a manageable pain and not the all-consuming darkness it sought to be. He supposed it looked terribly awkward, the way they were wrapped up in one another here, but he couldn't care. Neither, he sensed, did Belle.

"And I love you," she replied, pulling back to stroke his cheek and smile at him. "But what happened? Your eyes—they were starting to change. To what they were…before."

He hadn't known that; Rumplestiltskin had only felt the changes happening. "The dagger happened," he replied with a grimace. "When Norco cut me with it, the curse started trying to work its way back into me."

"Are you all right?"

"Thanks to you," Rumplestiltskin was able to say with a smile. His side would still take weeks to heal, and would still be poisonously infected until it did, but that hardly mattered. His former curse was a far greater threat than any wound could ever be, and Belle had neutralized that. I should have let her kiss me, he knew. But he hadn't, and he couldn't change that now—and True Love had to be fought for. Something would have happened to make them fight for what they had, he knew, whether it had been his own cowardice or something else. But fought they had, and now they were here. Together.

"Always," Belle replied, kissing him again. Her smile was brilliant, and her next words seemed to read his mind: "I'll always fight for you."

"And I you."

"The place looks different than I remember," Emma commented, sitting uncomfortably on a horse between David and Baelfire. Her father had given her a few much-needed riding lessons in the three days that had passed since their army had taken Regina's castle back, but she still looked miserable.

Bae understood the feeling. When he'd found himself aback in the Enchanted Forest after a few centuries away, he'd promptly discovered that he was expected to ride a horse, a skill that a poor kid from the Frontlands had never picked up. Mulan and David had both helped him a lot, and it was kind of nice to see David able to teach his daughter, too. Bae knew how much David regretted the years he'd missed with Emma, and he was glad to see them able to share these moments. The longer Emma spent in the Enchanted Forest, the more important her family relationships got, he knew. Now they were approaching Snow and David's old castle, the one Emma had been born in and should have grown up in. She'd told Bae earlier that she'd been there once, back when she and Snow had been accidentally sucked back here. But it had been almost two years since that had happened, and no one knew what kind of shape the castle would be in, now.

"Better or worse?" David asked in response, looking at the castle he hadn't seen in thirty years.

Emma shrugged. "Just different. Maybe it's just that we're not trying to run from ogres at the moment."

"I think I've had enough ogres for a lifetime," the king replied feelingly.

"You're telling me," Bae put in. "Ogres have pretty much been involved in every key moment of my life, and I'd really like to break that trend."

"I don't think you're doing too badly." Emma shot him a grin. "Sir Baelfire."

"Shut up." This woman made him crazy, and it didn't help that David laughed, too. Emma had caught on to Bae's embarrassment over being knighted early on, and she still ragged on him about it. Still, it was what they did to one another, so he shot back: "Princess Emma."

She scowled at him, but David got in before Emma could retort.

"Now, now, children. Behave yourselves."

"Children?" Bae snorted. "I'm way older than you are."

"I'll treat you like you're a few centuries old when you start acting like it," David replied with a grin. "Besides which, do you really want to remind me how big the age difference between you and my daughter is?"

"David!" Emma objected, glaring at her father.

Bae only grinned, but his witty response was lost when Mulan came riding up at a gallop, her long hair streaming behind her like a black flame. "There's some sort of demon attacking the supply train," she said without preamble. "Come quickly."

"I feel horrible," Regina groused, leaning back against Robin's chest and closing her eyes. She'd gotten out of bed for the first time today, going just as far as the library to spend some time with Henry and start worrying about how her son seemed to be tearing through books on magic. Just the act of walking back to her own chambers had exhausted her, however, and Robin had had to catch her when she'd almost fallen coming through the doors.

Using magic to support herself only seemed to make things worse, and she was guiltily grateful when Granny had shown up to gather the various children, taking both Roland and Henry off her hands. The fierce old woman still wasn't exactly Regina's friend, and she really wasn't the babysitter than Regina would have chosen, but at least she was trustworthy.

"It's only been three days," Robin reminded her, threading his fingers through hers. His simple act of affection made Regina smile; she hated showing weaknesses, but at least Robin didn't hold them against her.

"I should be fine," she still snapped before she could stop herself. "The stupid blue bug actually healed me well. I can't find anything wrong with myself."

But then why did she feel like her arms and legs were made of lead, and why did she get dizzy so easily? Regina hadn't ever felt this terrible, not even when she'd used so much magic that she'd utterly drained herself and wound up unconscious for three hours on the floor of Rumplestiltskin's castle. She'd woken up to him laughing at her, of course, but her power had come back quickly enough, and she'd tried to blast him into the ceiling in retaliation. It hadn't worked, but what mattered now was that Regina would have been able to do it then if she'd been attacking anyone but Rumplestiltskin. So, she shouldn't be feeling this absolute dearth of power now. Not like this.

"You did just face off with one of the most powerful fairies in existence," Robin pointed out reasonably, and Regina scowled again.

"Yeah, the irony of the Evil Queen doing that is still doing its rounds here in the castle. I hate gossip."

Maleficent's empty-headed princess was bad enough, but her father-in-law—the fool who had almost handed Henry to the Black Fairy thinking she was the other annoying fairy!—was even worse. Hubert seemed to have taken it upon himself to stand up and tell everyone how they needed to tear themselves away from evil influences like Regina and Rumplestiltskin, and she'd run into him on her way to the library with Henry. Regina hadn't been in anything like her usual form, but if Robin and Henry hadn't been there to stop her, she might very well have turned him into a slug.

She had, however, been able to frighten him by reminding him that saying such things while inside Rumplestiltskin's castle probably wasn't the smartest thing to do, and Robin had just grinned slyly and offered to go get Rumplestiltskin so that the idiot king could say it to his face. That had made Hubert flee, and at least Regina didn't have to listen to him lecturing Aurora and a half-dozen others on how Regina was the Evil Queen and would never change.

"Small-minded people will always rise to the level of their own prejudices," he answered, and Regina twisted to look at him.

"How did you get so wise as an outlaw?"

"Experience, mostly." A smile creased his handsome face, and Regina felt an odd flutter in her chest, the kind she had thought died with Daniel so long ago. "I find that when you steal from people, you learn a lot about what kind of person they really are. Same for when you help those who never expected help."

"Huh. I never would have thought being a thief was so educational," she replied drily.

Robin laughed. "Neither would my father. He was terribly disappointed in me, at least until the Sheriff had him executed on trumped up charges."

"I'm sorry." Why did Regina's throat want to close off with sorrow for this man she had never met? Still, if he'd raised Robin to be the way he was, the former Lord Locksley must have been special indeed.

"Ancient history, love." Robin's smile turned a little sad. "Marian and I named Roland for her father, but we always thought that we'd name our second son for him."

Regina squeezed his hand. "Perhaps you still have a chance for that."

"Are you going to be able to do this?" the damn green fairy—who at least had chosen to call herself something more meaningfully than just her stupid color—asked her.

Trying not to grimace as she lowered herself into her most comfortable chair, Maleficent glared weakly. "I understand my role in this, you little brat."

"You can call me a brat all you want as long as you remember that I saved your life," Tinker Bell shot back, and despite herself, Maleficent smiled.

She rather liked this defiant and disobedient fairy, the one who bullied Blue and refused to abandon her friends. There wasn't much back down in the much-younger fairy, and the stubborn set of her chin reminded Maleficent of herself, oh, five or six hundred years ago. She'd even told Tink that two days earlier, when she'd finally woken up in the bowels of the Dark Castle where Rumplestiltskin and Tinker Bell had hidden her "body" away from prying eyes. Of course, then Maleficent had been more than half-dead and clinging to life, having used the same ancient spells to save herself from the Black Fairy as she had once done to keep the infernal Savior from slaying her as a dragon. Now she was much more coherent, even if she was still weak.

"I would have lived," she sniffed, not letting on her affection for the younger fairy show too much. Apparently Tink had become good friends with Regina, too, and that only added to Maleficent's decision to like her. Someday, the three of them would have to sit down together for tea.

"As what, some disembodied spirit? Regina told me that it took her reversing her curse to bring you back from that," Tink shot back.

"I would have managed."

But Tink clearly saw the amusement in Maleficent's eyes, so she plopped into a chair and put her feet up on the table. The younger fairy's lack of manners must have driven pompous Blue mad, and that thought finally made Maleficent smile. "So. You're sure you can survive 'joining' the fae?"

"The worst they can do is kill me," Maleficent shrugged, not showing the simmering anger living inside her. Like the Black Fairy already tried to do. Like she tried to kill my best friend. "What do I have to lose?"

"I hear they're not very nice to those who cross them."

"They're fae, dear. That's what they do."

When the three of them reached the supply chain to find a shadowy demon breathing fire on everyone in sight, David charged in like the hero he'd always been. Of course, he was the logical choice to engage a magical creature, given that he was carrying the most magical sword of them all, but Bae wished the king had waited just a moment longer. He might have stopped to make a plan or something, but Bae had been working with David long enough to know that didn't always happen.

"Get these people out of here!" David shouted at him and Emma, and they jumped off their horses to do just that. Together, they physically hauled uninjured soldiers and support staff aside while David dodged first one fireball, and then another, running towards the demon and then blocking the third fireball with Excalibur. "Hey, you! Pick on someone that can fight back!"

The demon—which looked suspiciously like Pan's shadow, except that it was breathing red-hot fire when it wasn't flinging fireballs with both hands—stopped short to stare at David, floating about five feet above the ground. It didn't answer, just stared at the king for several long moments as Emma and Bae pulled burned-but-breathing soldiers clear. Its eyes glowed red as the demon cocked its head, clearly trying to decide exactly what Excalibur was. Could a black face made of shadow look confused? If so, the demon did.

But David hadn't become a world-renowned hero for hesitating, and he did not hesitate now. While the demon paused, David charged in, ducking under the fireball that the demon hurled his way in surprise, and leaping up to bury Excalibur up to the hilt in the demon's shadowy chest. The demon shuddered abruptly, letting out a low growl of a cry, and the otherworldly glow in its eyes seemed to falter. It dropped to the ground, landing awkwardly on half-solid feet, swaying and growling at David one more time.

Well, Bae thought as he handed a burn victim off to Doc. That was easier than I thought. Kind of like killing Pan's shadow—

The sudden explosion of fire almost tore him off his feet; even though Bae was a good twenty feet away from the demon, he felt the massive heat trying to cook him to a cinder. Thankfully, the blast lasted less than a second, but when he wheeled back to face the demon, he realized that the flare-up was not the demon's death throes. No, this was—

"No!" Emma shouted, rushing to where David lay, bleeding and burned, not five feet away from where she and Bae had been standing.

Excalibur was still sticking through the demon's chest, but as Bae watched, wide-eyed with shock, the demon levitated itself back up off the ground, growling out guttural laughter. The legendary sword seemed unharmed by the explosion of fire, but it obviously hadn't killed the demon, either. And trying to grab it for a second attempt would just be suicide. Desperately, Bae lunged for his horse—a dull creature that had thankfully not run from the blast of fire—and yanked his crossbow off where it was tied to the saddle. His other hand dove into the quarrel and grabbed for a pair of bolts as his mind whirled.

The demon swung to face him, either sensing the squid ink on the arrowheads or just seeking out the newest threat. Bae had to dive out of the way of a fireball, rolling to his feet and praying that his newly-repaired crossbow would survive long enough to be used this time.

"Emma!" he shouted above a suddenly rising wind. "Freeze it with your magic! Try to keep it from hurting anyone else!"

Frankly, Bae had no idea how Emma's magic lessons with Regina were going or even if she could do as he asked. But Emma didn't argue, turning to face the demon with her face screwed up in concentration and her hands coming up. All he needed was a moment, and just a touch of luck—but Bae had to dodge another fireball, one that singed him around the edges more than a little—before he could even load the crossbow.

His horse had finally run away, not too far, but still far enough that he wasn't going to be able to get reloads if he missed with the first two crossbow bolts. Loading quickly—his hands were mercifully steady, thanks to this past year of war—Bae aimed and let loose the first shot. But the demon was just as fast as Pan's shadow had ever been, and it jinked out of the way with ridiculous ease, dancing in the air as if it was merely a shadow and nothing more dangerous. Quickly, Bae reloaded the crossbow, trying to judge the wind whipping around them and wondering if praying would help.

"Now, Neal!" Emma cried, and the demon froze.

He took the shot, watched the bolt slam home right under the demon's chin, snapping its black and wispy head back like a physical blow. Immediately, blue light shimmered outwards from the crossbow bolt, and then the demon collapsed to the ground with a thud. Without thinking, Bae sprinted over to pull Excalibur out of the creature, surprised by how very cool the sword's hilt was. It should have burned him but did not, and Bae looked down into red eyes full of rage. Still, the demon was frozen, and that meant he should get back to Emma. He rushed over to find Emma cradling her father in her arms, her eyes full of tears.

David was still breathing, but only barely, and Bae didn't need to be a doctor to know that there was no way he was living through that. The king was a mess of burns and looked like he'd broken several crucial bones when he'd been thrown, too; if Bae didn't know who he was, he wouldn't have recognized his friend. Numbly, he knelt next to Emma, putting a hand on her shoulder. He knew there was nothing he could say, but—

"No," she whispered, and there was as much determination as there was heartbreak in her voice. David tried to say something—how was he still conscious?—but the words died in a gurgle of pain. "No. I am not letting this happen. I just found you, and I'm not going to lose you again!"

A shiver ran up Bae's spine, and it took him a moment to hear the power behind Emma's words, to feel the love rolling off of her and pouring into her father. White light started glowing from her hands as she held David, slowly working its way over the king's burned body and knitting wounds back together, erasing burns and restoring life. A minute passed, and then two, and David's breathing slowly turned from ragged to slow. He had been gasping but was now breathing almost normally as tears ran down Emma's face unchecked. An eternity seemed to pass before David opened his eyes.

"Daddy?" Emma whispered, sounding so lost that Bae just wanted to hold her and wish the hurt away.

But David's smile did the trick. "You saved me."

"Yeah." Emma smiled through her tears. "I guess I did."

A/N: This chapter almost killed me with the feels in it when I wrote it. Hopefully, I'm not the only one. Next up is Chapter 33: "Ocean of Darkness", in which Belle interrupts something interesting and Maurice is unexpectedly smart.

Please let me know what you think!