Chapter 20: The Dark One
The beggar left not long after he finished his meal, promising that he would check back with them in a few days. Once he was out the door Belle whirled around and stared at Rumplestiltskin in horror.
"What are you thinking?" She asked, careful not to wake Baelfire. "You can't possibly be serious about this."
He limped over to her and took her hand in his free one. "Of course I'm serious," he said plainly, "If I can steal the dagger, I can end the war. I can make life better for everyone. The Dark One is being used for evil. I can change that. I can finally do something right."
"But is it worth it?" She asked, squeezing his hand. "What if you're caught? What if you can't find it? There are a thousand ways this could fail, Rumple." She sighed. "You gave up so much to be here. Don't get yourself killed over a story about a dagger."
"We both know the stories are true," he argued, "You saw what happened to Morainne's parents. The Dark One could have killed them. If he can do that, perhaps if someone good holds the dagger, his magic can help people."
Belle studied him with careful uncertainty. She didn't like this idea and wanted no part in it, but Rumplestiltskin believed he could do this. He believed he could make a difference, and though she was convinced nothing good would come of it, she could not bring herself to dash the hope that now made his eyes bright. She knew that he had always been happy enough, but it was no secret that he longed for more. She did as well, if not for her, then for her son.
"You're determined?" She asked.
He nodded. "I won't do it if it displeases you this much," he admitted. "But, Belle, I-"
She gently laid her hand over his lips. "Of course it displeases me," she sighed, "Nothing good can come from this, but I'm not going to stop you. This will be your decision. I'll stand by you no matter what, but this is you."
"I just need it long enough to stop the war," he said desperately, "That's all. If I can save Bae and save the others, then that will be enough."
"Then you'll get rid of it?" She asked, hopeful.
Rumple nodded.
"I'll do whatever you wish, dearest," Rumple said as he leaned forward and kissed her. He let go of her and stepped back, shifting his balance and moving back to the spinning wheel. Belle watched on with curiosity.
"What are you doing?"
"I've got to get to work," he said. "There's only a couple days until they'll return."
~000~
Bae stood by his father's side, helping stir the sheep's fat boiling over the small fire. His father had been aloof and energetic today, and Bae was baffled by it. He had asked his mother that morning why Papa was behaving so strangely, but she had merely frowned and said he was working on a personal project.
Bae knew he would get nothing else out of his mother, so he offered his services to his father, who seemed more than happy to let him help. He explained to Bae the process of soaking the wool and they set to work. Finally Baelfire asked, "Why are we doing this? This is good wool that we could spin and sell."
Rumplestiltskin shook his head. "No, son. I'm going to use this to get into the Duke's castle. There's something there I have to take."
Blinking, Bae asked, "What?"
"Do you remember," Rumplestiltskin said, glancing around before whispering, "The Dark One?"
Bae's eyes widened. He nodded once, the image of that vile creature harming his friend's parents too vivid in his mind.
"He's controlled by a dagger," Rumple explained, not noticing his son's change in demeanor. "If I can get my hands on the dagger, I can control him and make him end the war."
Bae watched his father while the words sank in. He smiled softly and said, "Those that were taken would be able to come home."
Rumplestiltskin nodded. "Yes. I could have the Dark One return all the children to their families."
Baelfire laughed. "Papa that's wonderful!" He said as he grabbed his father and hugged him.
Rumple nodded excitedly in agreement. "Isn't it? Oh, it's going to be such a sight to summon the Dark One and tell him I want to use his magic for good." He paused, and a sly smirk grew across his face.
"It's incredible, Papa," he agreed. "But how is wool going to help you?"
"I'm using it to make torches," he explained, "What we're soaking them in will make it all the more flammable."
Bae regarded his father curiously. "But why does that matter?"
"Because," Rumple explained, amused that Bae's desire to learn had not diminished with age. He still asked questions and still asked why. He still wanted to know how everything worked and it delighted Rumple that he could teach his son all that he knew. He hoped someday his son could teach him things. "The Duke's castle is made of stone. Or, the walls are. The floors and the rafters are made of wood."
Bae thought for a moment. "Wood burns," he said finally. "You're going to set a fire."
Rumplestiltskin nodded. "Exactly."
Bae bit his lip, eyes narrowed and cast downward. Rumplestiltskin frowned. "What's wrong?"
"Does Mama know about this?"
Rumplestiltskin nodded. "She does. She doesn't approve, but I never expected her to."
"Then why are you doing this if Mama doesn't want you to?"
Rumplestiltskin offered his son a small smile. "Because while we may not agree on my methods, we both agree that we want to protect you from this war. You're our only child, and neither of us could bear to lose you."
Bae nodded, but said nothing more. He moved back to the pot that rested over the fire and stirred the sheep's fat some more. They worked in silence for some time, but then Bae spoke again, needing to address what laid heavily on his heart.
"Papa," he said. His voice suddenly sounded small and frightened. Rumplestiltskin glanced up at his son with concern and waited for him to continue. "I just want you to know," he said slowly, "That if this doesn't work, and you don't manage to get the dagger, I'm willing to fight. I know it's not what you want, but it's the law, and if they come for me, I'll go. And I'll fight honorably."
Rumplestiltskin let out a cry and grabbed for his son and pulled him close. "You won't fight," Rumple said determinedly. "They don't care if you can fight. All they want is to send you to the slaughter. That's what this is." Rumplestiltskin pointed to the sky, which was painted red. It had been that way for a year now, the sky the color of blood; angry and dark, the smoke from the battlefields making it hazy.
"That is the blood of our people," he said firmly. "Sent to die. I'm not going to let that be your fate."
Bae looked at his father uncertainly for a long moment, and then went back to stirring. He did not speak again until he went inside to wash up for supper. He was afraid that his father was on a fool's errand for a dagger, and he was afraid for himself. He knew he was only a few days away from being swept off to war, and though he wished with all his heart he would be saved from going to war, he forced himself to be realistic. He may have to go. He may fight and he may die. But at least he might see Morainne again.
They ate supper in silence, Rumple practically buzzing with energy. Belle remained calm and offered Baelfire reassuring looks as they shared a silent conversation. Both hoped Rumplestiltskin could save them. Neither expected him to.
~000~
It was after midnight when Rumple made his way out. The sky was black, save for the wispy waves of smoke that billowed up from the battle lines in the distance. The moon was out, which aided Rumple as he limped as quickly as he could down the path. He wore his brace with wooden splints wrapped around his leg tightly to help with the pain and pressure. It still hurt though, but Rumplestiltskin felt it necessary to do what needed to be done.
The Duke's castle was a few miles south of his village, and it would take him a good part of the night to reach the castle. Rumple also feared that he might tire himself out, so he moved quickly. He didn't know when the men would return for Bae. After the altercation they'd had the day before, they might show up sooner out of spite. Bae would turn of age before they reached the battle field, and then the law would be fully against Rumplestiltskin. It was nothing new, to be the underdog, but this time he believed he could change his family's fate for the better. He allowed himself no other option. He walked on, chanting to himself over and over that he was going to save his son. When he grew weary, that mantra spurred him on.
By the time he made it to the castle, he was exhausted, but the hard part of his plan had not even begun yet and so he pressed on, his fear and determination fueling him. He was surprised to find there were no guards surrounding the castle. Rumple assumed that any man who could be spared was at the battlefield, being sacrificed to the Ogres unending appetites. That thought brought forth a surge of energy, and he rushed to the side of the castle, where he was sure to remain unseen. He was not sure if the Duke was even home. There would be servants and maids though, to be sure, but the Duke himself was probably not here. That thought gave Rumplestiltskin pause.
What if the Duke kept the dagger on him at all times? It seemed logical to Rumplestiltskin that he would, and he felt himself despair. Bae had been right. What if the dagger wasn't here? Rumple frowned. He had been so certain that he hadn't stopped to consider the fact that his plan might actually fail. Belle had even declared this could fail in any numerous way, and suddenly Rumplestiltskin resented himself for not listening to his wife. He stopped and took a breath, then shook his head resolutely. He'd come this far, and to return without even trying would make him even more of a failure. He would almost rather not return at all, if that were the case.
Summoning his courage, he pulled the torches out from his sack and lit them. The flame shot up high on the torch, and the heat and light overwhelmed Rumplestiltskin for a moment. He recovered quickly and glanced at the pile of hay at his feet. That would make a good starting point he figured. He took a deep breath and dropped the torches onto the hay, stepping back as the flames ate away at the dry stuff and crawled up the castle walls.
~000~
When Rumplestiltskin made it inside he paused, hesitant. How was he ever going to find the dagger? Realization dawned on him that he had no idea where to look, and he just set the castle on fire which severely limited his time to find it before the castle began to collapse around his ears. He cursed himself for his foolishness - what had he been thinking - and pressed on, hoping he could figure out where one would keep a priceless and dangerous dagger.
He searched every room he came to, pulling out drawers and lifting rugs to see if there were hidden doors in which one could hide something small. He had no luck in the first three rooms and was beginning to grow desperate. He walked through the grand hall, hiding behind a large pillar as a servant rushed by in a panic, shouting for help.
He maneuvered through the large room, pausing when he passed three large tapestries hanging on the wall. It was far too obvious in Rumplestiltskin's mind, but the Duke did not seem to be an exceptionally intelligent fellow. Rumplestiltskin moved forward and ripped the first tapestry off the wall.
Nothing.
He sighed and pulled at the second one, eyes growing wide when he saw, resting on an ornate plaque, a dagger, small and wavy, and intricately decorated. In the middle of the dagger rested the Dark One's true name, Zoso. Rumplestiltskin stared in awe, reaching out hesitantly to grasp it. He felt the intense power the moment he laid his hands on it, and shuddered from it. So much power in his hands, he thought. The ability to change the world rested within this small dagger that seemed so innocent and plain. He held the dagger at his side and gripped his walking stick in his hand. Turning, he moved as quickly as he could out of the castle and did not look back as it began to collapse in his wake.
~000~
He stumbled along as best he could, until he made it to a small clearing in the woods a couple miles away from the castle. He could see smoke rising up in the night, and he sighed heavily. He'd never done something like that before, and he felt a small pang of guilt for destroying the man's home. He pushed it aside quickly, telling himself that the man was probably wealthy enough to build ten homes just like it, and the guilt seemed to vanish.
Dropping his walking stick, Rumplestiltskin pulled out another torch. He lit it, needing to see now that he was not blindly running in a panic to escape the crime he'd just committed. He held the dagger up to the light, admiring it once more. Deciding to get it over with, he lifted the dagger, ready to summon the Dark One and make the world a better place.
But then he stopped as a thought occurred to him. Why should he merely control the Dark One? He remembered Belle said the one who stabbed the Dark One with the dagger would inherit the powers. It was a tempting thought. How much better would it be if he were the one to stop the war and not the Dark One under his control? He could save the children, care for the village, do everything he'd never been able to do.
He blinked, the thought fading as quickly as it had come, and scolded himself. He did not have it in him to kill. And he wasn't sure if he even wanted that power. He sat on the ground, suddenly confused and unsure. He stared at the dagger, thinking for a long while, knowing that he could help all those who couldn't help themselves: the people like him, who were weak and mistreated and undervalued. He could change the world with this kind of power. Make the name Rumplestiltskin mean something. He could stop all wars, remove corrupt peoples from power. He could do so much. He could do everything he'd never been able to do.
He could give Belle and Baelfire the life they deserved. A home that was not cramped; books from all over the world. Fine clothes and jewels and anything they could ever want. He could be the father and husband he'd always wanted to be. He could make himself a man worthy of Belle's love. And it was as simple as plunging metal through flesh. All that power, within his grasp, yet so very fragile. It could slip away at any moment. But if he kept the power, if he were the one who wielded the dagger and the power and the love that fueled this mad desire to do the unthinkable, then all would be right. He could be a force for good.
He raised the dagger, and called out, "Zoso, I summon thee."
He did not know what to expect when he summoned the Dark One, but he found complete disappointment when nothing happened. He frowned and lowered the dagger. Had he not done it right? How did one summon the Dark One? Rumple sighed and turned, wondering if he should return home and see if Belle had read anything on the subject, when he came face to face with a hooded man. Rumple cried out and stumbled backwards, a burst of pain shooting up his leg.
"You were asking for me?"
Rumple's throat felt dry, but he swallowed thickly and held the dagger up once more. "Submit, Dark One! I control you!"
The Dark One chuckled, and Rumplestiltskin felt a tremor of fear rush through him.
"Yes you do.Wield the power wisely."
They stood facing each other as the Dark One waited for Rumplestiltskin to make his request. When he did nothing, the Dark One spoke up. "You can wield at any time now. And I would hurry. I can hear horses approaching. It looks like their coming for your boy early."
Rumplestiltskin shook his head frantically. "No. No that can't take him. They can't take him!"
The Dark One stepped closer, his bitter laugh echoing around them. "They can do what they will. It's me you control. Only I can stop them from taking your son." He paused, studying Rumplestiltskin from underneath his hood. "Are you even sure he is your son?" He mocked. "You were gone an awfully long time."
Rumplestiltskin sputtered and scowled. "Of course he's mine!" He seethed. "My wife is faithful to me. How dare you accuse her of something so horrid?"
"You're a coward, and now you're lame. It wouldn't be a surprise if she'd found someone to give her the family she wanted in your absence. If you ask me, the boy doesn't really look like you."
Rumplestiltskin felt fury rage through him. He had never doubted Belle's fidelity, and he would not start now. It had never crossed his mind that she might seek comfort elsewhere, but he was not going to allow this creature to fill his head with filth and degrade his wife in front of him. Dark One or not, he would not let this stand.
"Stop," he said, and Zoso went silent. After a moment he asked, "What would you have me do? Or are you going to stand here and gape?" He laughed cruelly, "I've had my share of masters in my time, but none are as pathetic as you. You don't even know what you want of me! Perhaps you could have me kill you. That would be a mercy for your wife, I'm sure. To know she's free of such a pathetic creature." The Dark One lowered his hooded head and Rumple could see a glimmer of yellowed teeth in the light of the torch, "Maybe I could show her a good time."
Rumplestiltskin cried out in a rage and leapt forward. It was one thing to speak about him in such a way; but to speak of Belle? It would not do. Rumple was tired of being mocked and of being hated. He was going to change his fate, and his name would no longer be synonymous with the word 'coward'.
"You can die!" The dagger plunged straight into the Dark One's heart. Zoso crumpled to the ground, and Rumple followed, not letting go of his hold on the dagger. He watched as the color, a strange greenish-gold, drain from the creatures face, revealing the fleshy pink of -
"Cary?"
Cary laughed, blood sputtering from his lips and landing on Rumple's face.
"But, you can't be the Dark One," Rumple cried. "You're the beggar!"
"I couldn't tell you my real name," Cary whispered hoarsely. "You'd have recognized it on the blade."
"You lied to me."
Cary shook his head. "Cary was the name of the Dark One before me. Didn't lie."
"I don't understand why you did this!" Rumplestiltskin gasped, staring at the man with fear.
"Looks like you made a deal you didn't understand." He laughed again, the sound fading into a hard cough. "I don't think you're going to do that again."
Rumple stared at the man in confusion, his eyes wide with horror at what he'd done. Suddenly it all made sense. The beggar finding them, feeding him the story of power and heroics. "You wanted this," Rumple said, the realization dawned on him. "You wanted me to kill you."
Cary nodded and coughed again. "My life was such a burden. You'll see. Magic always comes with a price, and now it's yours to pay."
"No," Rumplestiltskin said. "No, no. Why did you do this to me? How could you?"
"You're desperate," Cary explained, his voice getting weaker. "I know how to recognize a desperate soul, and you were the only one who could set me free."
He laughed one last time, the sound a wheezing, weak thing. Then he went limp and said no more.
Rumple stared on, grasping at the man and begging him to come back. He didn't want this, but he realized that it was far too late. This was not what he'd wanted. He was a fool; a stupid fool who was now in far too deep. He pulled the dagger out, knowing what he would see yet praying he wouldn't. Sure enough, on the blade, in a curved and lovely font was his name, Rumplestiltskin.
Rumple began to shake, his breathing growing shallow and rapid. Panic overtook him, and he staggered back from the unmoving figure before him. He felt something take hold of him then, something foreign and strange and magical, and he watched in shock as his skin began to transform before his eyes. He felt something grip his heart, and he clutched at it, sinking to the ground as the sensation left him weak.
He gasped for air, feeling dizzy from the sensation of magic surrounding him. His thoughts were muddled, clouded with voices whispering and pain, and when it all became too much to bear he let out a broken scream that left his throat raw and burning. He collapsed to the ground, wishing more than anything he were dead, that the strange sensations, burning, and unbearable pain would stop.
And then it did.
It had hit him like a wave crashing upon him and it was gone just as quickly. He raised his head up, then pushed himself onto his knees with his hands. He glanced down to see that the skin of his hands was a similar shade to the way Cary had looked before. He stood. His knees were shaking as he took a step backwards. As he moved his, eyebrow raised in surprise when he felt no pain in his leg. He glanced down, lifting his foot and hopping on it a few times, laughing in surprise when there was nothing but the sensations of movement. He was no longer lame, he realized. He was as he'd been, before the war.
He froze as he remembered the war - the reason he was here. He could now hear the horses Cary spoke of in the distance. It was strange to be able to hear and see so well and so far. It was incredible; but there was no time to dwell on that now. His son was in danger.
Rumplestiltskin narrowed his eyes and stretched out his hand, summoning the dagger to his grasp. It flew up effortlessly to his hand, and he clutched it so tightly his knuckles turned white. He stared out beyond him, allowing the magic to settle around and within him. He did not know exactly what to do, but he knew he could not be stopped now. He had power. He was the Dark One.
And no one was going to take his son from him.
Author's Notes:
Well, it finally happened...uh ohh...
Thank you everyone who reviewed, favorited, and followed. I am forever grateful to you. :-)
Chapter 21 will be up Friday, April 4.
Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time or any of it's characters. Some of the dialogue in this chapter was taken or heavily inspired by scenes from the episode "Desperate Souls".