Chapter 22: Still Me

The families began to disperse. Mothers hugged their sons and daughters clung to their father's legs. Many children approached Rumplestiltskin and hugged him tightly. He was surprised by the affection, but he returned their embraces, many of the children thanking him earnestly for saving them. He smiled warmly at them, watching out of the corner of his eye as Belle looked on in awe. He forced himself to bite back tears as Anna approached him slowly and wrapped her thin, gangly arms around his legs.

"Thank you so much," she whispered, and Rumple lifted the girl off the ground overcome with emotion. He held her tightly for some time, stroking the girl's hair affectionately. He wanted to apologize to her. He wanted to beg her to forgive him for not saving her brother, but the words would not come forth. He sighed. His regret weighed him down as he let Anna go, placing her back on the ground with a weak smile. She met his eyes, and an understanding passed between them. She said nothing, but he could see in her eyes the relief that the fear and suffering was over. She was ready to move on, and though she would do so without her brother, she was grateful. She turned and ran back to her parent's side, and they held onto her tightly as they walked away.

"Her brother should be here," he said to Belle, his voice cracking in sorrow.

Belle frowned. "Did the Ogres-" Rumplestiltskin shook his head and explained, "He was sick and I couldn't stop it. I was too late."

Belle watched, her vision blurry, as the young girl walked beside her mother, her small arm wrapped around older woman's waist. Belle sniffed. She'd been lucky; her son hadn't faced the same horrors most of these children had. She hadn't faced the loss of a child. She knew she should be relieved, but there was nothing but bitterness. It wasn't fair. None of these children should have suffered a war of man. "This war took far too many innocent people," she whispered, "Thank the gods you ended it."

Rumplestiltskin said nothing, but pride swelled up within him. He ended the war. He was a hero in the eyes of the village. He was a hero in the eyes of the children. These families were reunited because of him. Parents had flocked to him in turn. They were reluctant to let go of their children, thanking him profusely. He could sense their nervousness. How could they not be? He was the Dark One now, and though he hadn't taken the time to look at his reflection, he knew his appearance was altered. Belle had said as much before he vanished a couple days before. He'd have to inspect himself later; he had a lot he needed to do. There were so many things he felt were changed, and it would take time to take stock of them all.

Not long after the group dispersed, Bae approached Rumple and Belle. He walked slowly, as if he were afraid a sudden movement might startle his father and spur him to attack. When he was within arm's reach of his parents he stopped and glanced at his father with a small, hesitant smile. "Thank you, Papa," he said, rubbing his arm with his other hand, "Thank you for saving them."

Rumplestiltskin regarded his son for a long moment, then stepped forward and pulled him gently into his arms. "It was all for you, Bae," Rumple whispered as he began to weep, grateful that it was finally all over. "I can't lose you; I'm nothing without you."

-000-

They walked home, Bae walking ahead of them. He turned back every few minutes, looking at his father curiously. It was strange, seeing him so familiar yet so different. He knew the man behind him, holding his mother's hand tightly in his now strange-colored one was the same man he'd always known; but the too-recent memory of his father snapping the neck of the Duke caused him so shudder. He could not reconcile the two images he now had of his beloved Papa. He couldn't believe his father had killed; had become the Dark One and yet now the war was over thanks to his efforts. It made Bae's head ache to think about how much had changed in such a short amount of time. He'd grown up with tales of the Ogre wars and the fear that one day it would be his turn to join the ranks and fight. Now those worries were gone like the very Ogres that had plagued his and other's nightmares for years. He wondered what the village would do now they did not have to wake every morning wondering how much closer the Ogres were and how many lives they'd taken in the process.

Plagued by far too many thoughts, Baelfire informed his parents he was going to go fetch some firewood. It had always been their way of getting him out of the house when they needed time alone, and both his Mama and Papa seemed to understand his need for solitude to process everything that had occurred the past few days. He went on, and Rumplestiltskin pulled Belle into their home, needing to have her near.

Rumple embraced her, nuzzling his nose against her cheek with a sigh. He breathed her in, taking comfort in her presence. She'd always been the solid rock upon which he stood, and he needed her quiet strength now. He was so overcome with everything: his mind raced with spells and magic and centuries of memories that he could hardly sort through. He was still himself, but he could feel the intrusion of the Curse upon his mind, and he held Belle tighter still, hoping she could somehow calm the waves that crashed in his mind.

She did not question him, but instead wrapped her arms around him and rubbed his back, speaking soothing nonsense to him as his breathing began to grow steadier. She moved her hands down from his back to his waist, frowning when her palm brushed the hard metal of a dagger. She stepped back, only slightly so as not to remove herself from his embrace and touched the hilt of the blade that stuck out of Rumplestiltskin's belt. Neither spoke, but Rumple reached down to remove the blade nonetheless. He needed to show Belle the source of his newfound abilities. He held it out to her, half expecting her to take it. He knew what would happen if she did, but this was Belle. He trusted her. She stared at the blade before her, but she did not take it. Instead she cautiously brushed her fingertips over the blade, caressing the swirling letters of his name, and she noticed the slight shiver that ran through Rumplestiltskin.

He watched her in quiet anticipation, waiting to follow her lead. She removed her hand from the blade and dropped it to her side. "So you're the Dark One," she said. It was not a secret, but the weight of the words were heavy and it settled over them, stifling and uncomfortable.

"I am." It was all he could say. It was all there was to be said on the matter. It was too late for anything else.

"That means you killed the previous Dark One in order to become him." Her tone was soft and gentle, but he could see her mind trying to grasp the thought of her husband committing such an act. Rumplestiltskin was not a murderer, but he found himself looking down guiltily as he answered, "I did."

"Why?" She asked suddenly, her eyes moving as sharply as his dagger, "When you left, I was under the impression you were going to control the Dark One, save Bae, then release him." What made you change your mind? Clearly something happened."

Rumplestiltskin glanced down at the dagger and stared hard at the blade that was his strength and his weakness. "Anger," he admitted at length, "Anger, and a desire to protect what was mine." He sighed and looked at Belle helplessly, "I can't change what I've done, Belle."

She nodded, her shoulders heavy. "I know."They remained silent for some time, Rumple watching Belle and she staring at the dagger with hesitant interest. When she spoke again, her voice wavered, "How many people have you killed?"

"Belle-"

"How many, Rumple? I need to know what you've done in the name of our son."

That wounded him, but he knew she was right. He'd done all this to protect their son; everything he'd done had been for love of this family. They should know the extent of his devotion to them. "The guards who attacked you and Bae," he admitted, "The Ogres, Cary-"

"The beggar?!"

He nodded. "He was the Dark One. I didn't know until it was too late."

"Wouldn't his name have been on the dagger, then?" She asked sensibly.

Rumple shook his head. "He lied. Well, technically. His name was Zoso. That was the name on the blade. Cary was the name of the Dark One before him. I suppose he gave me the other name so when I came across the dagger I wouldn't figure it out."

Belle had a look about her that hinted she was brimming with questions. He could anticipate her next one, so he answered before she asked, "I have memories," he explained, "Glimpses of a past that isn't mine. Vague memories of other lives lived before me. It's a jumble but I know they are thoughts of the previous Dark One's in my head."

"Doesn't that drive you mad?"

He nodded. "Yes."

She nodded, remaining silent to let the information sink in. After several silent minutes she spoke again. "What are you going to do now that you are the Dark One?" She gestured with her hand at him and the dagger the question of whether he would kill others in the name of safety was left unspoken. But if that was what it took to keep them safe, then that was what he would do. And without being so blunt, he told her as much.

"Protect you. Protect Bae. I'm going to use it for good," he insisted softly. His answer seemed to satisfy her for she smiled and reached out to lay her hand over his.

"Good."

"I'll make you proud of me," he declared suddenly, reaching out to lace their fingers together, his new gold-green skin a stark contrast to her lightly tanned skin. "I won't be a disappointment any longer."

"You were never a disappointment," Belle protested, but Rumplestiltskin wouldn't hear it.

"I'll show everyone that you didn't make a mistake when you married me," he said, his eyes flaring with determination.

"Rumple," she sighed, scooting closer and cupping his face in her hands, "I am and always will be proud to be your wife," she whispered. That seemed to placate him and he pressed his lips against her forehead, offering her a silent thanks and praying that she never came to regret those words.

~000~

If there was one thing Rumplestiltskin disliked, it was change. He adapted when it was necessary, but change made him nervous, and he did not like venturing into the unknown. The power bestowed upon him had brought about many changes, but he adapted to them and made the best of what was happening to him. He began to dedicate time to practicing his skill. He needed to understand the magic that now flowed through him. It became increasingly clear that the magic was partly innate. The Curse was the source of the magic, and it did not take much to do simple tasks. He needed only to will it, and he could produce things from seemingly nowhere or summon objects from across the room.

Until he learned more about his powers and all he could do with them, Rumplestiltskin decided to keep the magic away from his family. He knew he could control it when performing simple tasks, but he was unsure what would happen when he attempted more difficult feats. He'd managed to keep it under control when he fought the ogres, but he'd been full of adrenaline and hadn't taken much time to think. He'd simply acted. Now he wanted to understand how he did these things, but he wasn't going to put his family in danger to discover it. Not when the entire point of this had been to keep them safe.

He finally thought of a way to understand what was going on within him. He conjured a leather bound book of fine quality and a long feather quill and ink and began to write. His training with Belle during their courtship was still such a valuable skill he thought as he wrote down spells and ingredients for potions and incantations. His mind raged with a storm of memories and thoughts and writing them down, keeping them separated and organized was a great challenge, but a great relief. On several occasions, Belle caught him sitting long after she and Baelfire had gone to bed writing furiously in his books and though it worried her, she tried to let him be.

One particular night she awoke, feeling cold without her husband beside her and sat up to see Rumplestiltskin's outline hunched over the table writing in complete darkness. Belle leaned over and lit a candle. She stood and approached him carefully, not wanting to startle him.

"I could light more candles," she offered softly, letting one hand fall to rest on his shoulder, "If you need to see."

He looked up and blinked curiously at her. "Oh, no. Thank you, but I'm fine," he assured her, reaching up to grasp her hand. "I can see just fine in the dark. And I don't want to wake you or Bae."

They glanced up as they heard Baelfire snore loudly from the other end of the room, signaling that he was fast asleep. Belle giggled. "Well, I'm already up, and I don't think anything can disturb that boy."

Rumple smiled endearingly at her before turning to write hastily again. Belle grabbed a chair and moved it closer to him and sat. She placed the candle on the table and leaned over to watch him write. Rumplestiltskin glanced up at her curiously, and she sat back quickly, "I don't want to bother you," she told him, "I'm just curious."

It wasn't safe to let her so close to the magic, not when he still didn't fully understand it all himself, but Rumple shifted slightly anyway and turned the book so that she could read.

"These are memories," he explained as he flipped to the beginning. "I'm trying to make sense of it all. There are so many things in my head I can barely keep track of what thoughts are mine and which ones aren't."

"That must be frustrating," Belle said as she turned the pages, looking at the pages of memories. She came across a list and pointed, "What's this?"

Rumple glanced down. "Deals that were made with the first Dark One," he explained. "I'm making an account of what sort of things were done over the centuries. I just want to know more about myself."

Belle frowned and stretched out her hand to grab his. "This isn't you," she said, "You may be the Dark One now, but you're still my Rumple."

Rumplestiltskin squeezed her hand and smiled softly. "Thank you."

They sat there in silence for some time before Belle pulled her hand away and began to flip through the pages again. She reached the last pages that Rumple had written in and frowned, "This is Zoso. He's the one who tricked you."

Rumple nodded. "Yes," he said, "He is."

Belle sighed and pushed the book back to Rumple. She felt anger toward the man that had deceived her husband, but she knew that anger was wasted. The man was dead. What reason was there for her to carry anger in her heart when there was nothing to be done about it? She could not get rid of her husband's condition without his dying, and that was simply out of the question. She rose and bent down to kiss Rumplestiltskin on the head. "I'm going back to bed," she whispered, glancing up when Baelfire snored loudly again, "Will you join me?"

He nodded before reaching for the book. "Yes," he said as he grabbed the quill and dipped it in the inkwell, "I'll be there in just a few moments."

She left the candle at his side and retreated to the now cold sheets of their bed. She lay there for some time waiting for him but eventually fell asleep, alone.

~000~

The next morning Belle awoke feeling strange. Where she had been cold the night before, now she was warm. She tried to move but quickly realized that she was being held down by something. She blinked sleepily and glanced beside her, a smile forming when she saw the strange color of her husband's arm. She'd fallen asleep without him, but now he was here. She carefully rolled over so as not to disturb him. He was sleeping soundly.

It had been a little over a week since the transformation, but it was the first time Belle had been able to properly study her husband without him reacting self-consciously. He looked at peace. His eyes were shut tightly, and his mouth hung open slightly as he slept. She studied his features carefully, taking in all the small differences in him. His skin shimmered in a golden hue that Belle couldn't help but admire. The skin looked scaled, but was as soft as the flesh he'd once worn. His hair, which had laid limp and wavy along his shoulders was now springy with curls that bounced with every move he made. She glanced down at the hand that was lying limp between them, and she regarded the short but darkened nails. Her eyes traveled upwards again and rested once more on his face. He was still handsome, no matter the physical changes. She was fond of his skin and the way it all but glowed. She had always loved his hair and couldn't resist running her hands through it now.

He stirred at the gesture, and after a moment she was met with his dark eyes. Where they had been brown before, they now seemed almost black, dark and mysterious as the magic that flowed through him. She felt drawn to them, to the mystery and beauty that he was. And yet, despite that, there was a hesitance. She knew the man beside her, but he wasn't quite the same. No doubt taking on a dark curse did that to a person, but despite her love for her husband, there was a flicker of hesitance. Despite her declarations that he was her husband, Belle had to wonder: was he truly?

Unable to help herself, her hand slipped down from his hair to caress his cheek. He smiled at her sleepily, letting his eyes slip back shut. He was no doubt tired, but she couldn't find it in her to let him sleep. She leaned forward and pressed her lips lightly against his. He sucked in a breath and blinked his eyes open, offering her an affectionate smile.

"What was that for?"

She shrugged with her shoulder that wasn't pressed to the bed. "Just studying you," she said simply. "There's so much to take in."

"And what do you think?" He asked as he lifted a hand to his cheek. He was very much aware of the changes as well. He felt stronger and more confident in his appearance. The skin and nails were taking time to get used to, but he was enjoying his heightened senses and ability to produce anything out of thin air. But he was more concerned with focusing his attentions on his wife at the moment, instead of his magic. So long as she still wanted him, magic could wait.

"It's different," she admitted shyly. "But it's not bad."

He scooted closer to her, holding her tightly against his chest. "I'm still me," he said softly, leaning down to kiss her once more. Belle kissed him in return, enjoying his attentions and forcing herself to ignore that his statement had felt more like a reminder to himself rather than her.

Author's Notes:

I can't say anything about why nothing happened when they kissed. But it's addressed later on, I promise. (Some of you expressed concern last chapter, which is why I bring it up.)

Thank you for all your kind reviews! I appreciate it so much!

Thanks to Sirensong25 and my husband for editing! You guys are awesome!

Chapter 23 will be posted April 18!

Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time. All characters belong to ABC and the respective writers. I do own Anna.