25: The Price of Gold

Warning: This chapter contains violence.

Maurice happily made his way down the king's road with the gold rope coiled in his pocket. He felt light as air despite the weight of the gold, and he practically danced down the road. Things had not been well in recent years. With the war, he'd seen a fair share of business, but even then it had not been enough to quite cover all his needs. He made do with what he had, but it had come to a point where he had no choice but to admit things were not well.

His solution lay in the next village. It was larger and more modern than where he came from. Being a few miles closer to the city certainly helped matters for the neighboring village, and Maurice knew that if he could get some clients there, he'd be set.

Even if his endeavor failed, his son-in-law could make gold, and although Maurice valued hard, honest work he wasn't too prideful that he couldn't go to Rumplestiltskin for help. As long as Belle never knew of his troubles, he would be fine. He could see his daughter and not fear that she would notice the lines that had started to form around his eyes and his forehead. He could enjoy time with Baelfire and not have to worry about his small bit of savings running out. He could relax now. Rumplestiltskin would cover him in his absence, and he would be back home. Everything would be fine.

He continued to walk and though he was feeling quite merry, he remained quiet and alert. He knew he should keep quiet on the king's road. It was not a place where peasants were welcome, but it was also the fastest road to reach the kingdom. He walked on enjoying the chill in the air and occasional burst of warmth where the sun was able to break through the trees and touch his face. He thought about how much he enjoyed the city, the bustle and the rush, and the crowded streets. The castle was a sight to see as well, and Maurice thought idly about taking Baelfire with him one day. Perhaps Belle and Rumple would come too, and they could make it a family outing to see the sights. Maurice had never taken Belle despite her desire to explore the world beyond her village. He sighed. Perhaps Rumple could give her the adventure he never could.

There was a rustling in the bushes, and Maurice stopped in his tracks. He was aware that the road was not a safe place, but he'd traveled it many times with no incident. Maurice didn't hear anything else, so he assumed it was a wild hare or some other small animal and shrugged off the strange noise. He was only about an hour or so from his home and he still had many miles to go. He thought about picking up his pace, but ultimately decided against it. If there were someone lurking about, running would be dangerous. Maurice did not want to give the impression that he had anything of value to be taken. His hand twitched, wanting nothing more than to reach into his pocket and touch the gold, but he resisted. He began whistling again, hoping that he was simply being paranoid.

He reached a small bridge that hovered over a river and took a moment to kneel at the water's edge to fill his small canteen with water. He drank deeply before filling it again. Rising, he jumped in surprise when he saw three young men standing above him on the bridge, looking mischievous and dangerous.

"'Ello, old man," said the tallest of the three. He had shaggy, dirty blond hair that hung in his eyes. His clothing was old and ripped, and he looked like a wild thing more than a boy. He stood flanked by his shorter comrades, both looking just as rough as their apparent leader. They looked no older than Belle, but something in their eyes hinted at a cruelty that should not manifest in such young and innocent faces.

"Hello," Maurice said, feigning cheerfulness. He backed away from the bank and moved to stand before them at the bridge's edge. "Might I pass? I have business in town."

The tall boy crossed his arms and sneered at Maurice. "And what business d'you have in town, old man?"

"My business," Maurice said cautiously, "Nothing terribly important. Just visiting an old friend."

"Oh, I'm sure," the leader said mockingly, "Old friends in a nice, rich city. Must be nice not to have to worry about where your next meal is gonna come from."

Maurice held his hands up, indicating he meant no harm. "I assure you," he said, "I've endured that struggle all my life. But it'll get better, I promise." He offered the boys a kind smile. "What are your names?"

"Our names don't make no difference to you," the leader said hatefully. "What will make a difference is how willingly you give us what you got."

Maurice took a step back. "Now, there's no need for this," he said nervously, "What would your fathers think-"

"Our fathers are dead," the leader shouted angrily. "Sent to be murdered by Ogres!"

"It's not easy," Maurice said gently, "I lost people I loved to the Ogres as well." It was the truth. The Ogres had been causing trouble for years, and Maurice had lost dear friends at their hands.

"I don't care what you lost," the boy snapped, pulling out a knife. "But I'm going to take what you've got," he said, pointing with the blade toward Maurice's pocket, where a small piece of the golden rope had fallen out. "Looks like you got plenty to go around."

"I can give you some," Maurice offered, "I don't mind to help."

"It's all or nothing, old man."

Maurice straightened himself up then, no longer feigning kindness. "Now there's no need for that," Maurice said cautiously, "I'll give you some. I don't mind." No amount of gold was worth fighting those who could no doubt best him. He could simply return home, and let Rumplestiltskin know what happened. For a man who could make gold, such a small amount would surely make no difference.

The boy scowled and stepped forward, holding the knife out in front of him. "I want it all," he hissed. Maurice held out his hands.

"Very well," he said, "I'll not fight you over this."

The boy grabbed the gold and stared at it greedily. Then he glanced up and lunged forward, shoving his knife into Maurice's chest. "That's for wasting my time," he said hatefully as Maurice clutched his chest and sank to the ground. The boy kicked Maurice then, knocking the man over, then bent down to pick up the gold. He held it up for the others to admire.

"Who wants to feast tonight?" He asked, and the boys cheered again as their horror disappeared into excitement. The boy sheathed the knife and took off running over the bridge, as the other two followed. Maurice lay there, trembling in pain as he felt his life slip from him. His last thoughts were of Belle and Baelfire, the little family he loved with everything in him. He thought of Rumplestiltskin too and knew that despite his faults he was a good man who would care for his daughter. Peace entered him, and with a final gasp of air, his body went limp and still.

~000~

Something was wrong. He didn't know how or why, but something within Rumplestiltskin's being cried out in mourning. He'd given the gold to Maurice a day ago along with the promise that Belle would never know of her father's financial trouble. But now he felt a strange pain, not physical but magical, and something in him whispered that it might be connected to the gold.

He knew Maurice had left that morning, so the man should have arrived at the neighboring city by now. But something inside Rumplestiltskin's mind cried out that he hadn't made it. Doing his best not to panic, Rumple shut his eyes and envisioned Maurice walking along the king's road. When he could see it in his head as clear as day he flicked his wrist and disappeared in a cloud of purple smoke, hoping for the best but expecting the worst.

When Rumplestiltskin appeared, he glanced around in confusion. The road was empty. He stood for a moment, unsure of what to do, but the nagging in his gut urged him to travel. He turned to face the kingdom and began to walk. He remained quiet, listening for any sign of something amiss. He could see far ahead, a benefit from the magic that coursed through him, and in the distance he could see a bloody lump in the road. Without even thinking, he disappeared and reappeared right next to the mass on the road. He looked down and let out a broken sob. Maurice lay before him with his face down on the dirt road and surrounded by blood.

Rumple's knees gave away, and he collapsed next to Maurice. "No, no, no," Rumple sputtered as he rolled Maurice onto his back. Bile rose in his throat as he took in Maurice's wounds, stained with dirt and blood. Crying, he began to use magic, casting spell after spell, doing anything he could think of to save the man he loved dearly. Maurice had been more of a father figure to him than his own father. Maurice had accepted him, and allowed him to join his family. He never turned his back on him, even after Rumple had been shut out by the village for his act of cowardice. Rumple loved Maurice, loved the family the man had been responsible for giving him, and Rumple felt his heart breaking. He kept using magic, images of Adi and little Jacob rushing through his mind. He couldn't lose someone else. This was what he'd wanted to prevent; he wanted to save though he cared about.

Despite his efforts, he pressed on, using up all his energy to try to achieve the impossible. At last he dropped his hands to his sides and wept, shouting and cursing as he bent over Maurice and rested his head on the man's chest. Where there should have been a heartbeat there was only silence, and Rumple clutched at Maurice's stained tunic, his sobs turning into breathless gasps as he mourned.

Eventually he calmed himself and sat up, staring brokenly at his father-in-law's motionless body. Idly, Rumple reached into Maurice's pockets, searching for what he knew should be there. When he came up empty, he let out an enraged shout. Maurice was murdered for the gold. Someone had robbed this innocent man of his wealth and life.

Rumplestiltskin bowed his head in shame as he realized that Maurice's death was all his fault.

~000~

Rumple used the last of his energy to transport Maurice back to his home. Then he stood, his legs weak and wobbly, and trudged his way slowly down the road toward home. He would have to tell Belle that her father was dead. He would have to tell Baelfire. It grieved him almost as much as Maurice's death itself to know that he must tell his wife such devastating news. Belle adored her father, that much was certain. To hear of his death, by such a callous and random means, would surely break her in a way he had no idea how to mend. Baelfire had not seen the horrors of war, but had felt the bitter sting of children who had not returned home. This, would be the first time the boy would truly understand what it meant to lose someone.

He would have to act quickly to get Maurice prepared for burial. He whispered a series of spells over Maurice, cleaning the body and preserving it until he could help Belle arrange everything. Once Rumple finished, it was time to do the hardest thing he'd ever had to do. In a puff of purple smoke he disappeared.

When he arrived home Rumple stood motionless with his head bowed. Belle urgently ran out to meet him. "Where have you been?" she asked as she reached out in concern to touch his cheek. "You're filthy," she exclaimed with wide eyes when she noticed his clothing was stained with blood. "Rumple, what in the world happened?"

Rumple looked up, and Belle felt a sudden chill go through her. Rumple's eyes were full of sorrow and regret, and he looked as broken as he had the night he'd practically crawled through their door with a shattered leg. "Belle," he breathed. His voice cracked as tears began to freshly fall. He did not know he could cry so much; surely his body and soul were dried out by now. Belle waited, feeling frightened as her husband stood before her, looking at her with more sadness than she could bare. "Y-your father," he whispered, unable to speak any more. He lunged forward and clutched her to him, gasping out his sobs as he whispered apology after apology. Belle struggled against him and pulled away, staring at him blankly.

"What of my father?"

"H-he...Oh gods, Belle. He's dead."

She didn't move, didn't speak. Rumple waited, unsure of what to do. Finally she sank to the ground, and stared blankly ahead of her, unaware of the tears that now rolled down her cheeks in droves.

"No," she whispered at last, as her head shook in tiny, sharp jerks, "No." She glanced up at Rumplestiltskin, her eyes pale and full of despair, "No you're wrong."

How he wished he was. Rumple knelt before her, gently taking her hands in his. He was consumed with guilt, knowing all to well that when Belle believed him, she would blame him as well. Why had he given Maurice gold? He recalled what he'd written in his book, all magic comes with a price. Had the price of gold been Maurice's death? It hardly seemed fair.

"He was robbed," Rumple admitted, "Killed on the king's road."

Belle shook her head. "No. No, Papa's at home."

She leapt up, and ran toward Maurice's house. Rumple knew he could stop her, but didn't want to risk hurting her. Though he was exhausted, he moved himself to Maurice's home, and caught Belle as she stumbled into his arms.

"Belle, please," he whispered, taking her face in his hands and forcing her to look at him. "You don't want to see him."

Belle shoved Rumple, and opened the door. She rushed inside and Rumple followed, determined to be there when she needed him. She faltered when she saw his body. A broken cry escaped her lips, and she collapsed. Rumple lunged forward and caught her, and Belle curled into him, clutching at his shoulders as she sobbed bitterly. Rumple held her tight, not knowing what to say. His magic had failed, once again, and he had no other way of caring for his wife. His words were as useless as his magic.

He turned his head slightly as he heard the sound of footsteps approaching, and his eyes widened in horror as he saw Baelfire cautiously enter the room.

"Papa?"

Bae looked at his parents on the floor, then glanced up and cried out when he saw his grandfather's body. Tears stung his eyes as he ran toward his parents and collapsed against them. Rumple adjusted, moving so that he could hold both of them. He pulled Baelfire to his side and gripped him around his shoulders tightly. Bae grasped at both of them as their tears fell, mourning the loss of their loved one.

~000~

Belle stood silently as several men of the village, Rumplestiltskin included, dug Maurice's grave. The cemetery was on the outskirts of the western side of the town, bordered by a patch of wild flowers on one side and the edge of a forest on the other. The men worked in silence as Belle clutched Baelfire to her. The boy had been eerily silent and though Belle wanted to comfort her son, she could not find the words. Instead she clutched her son tightly, and they both remained silent. She needed to hold onto something, feeling as if her world were breaking apart around her. Baelfire kept her grounded; he kept her from going mad. She had to appear to be strong, if only for him, though it nearly broke her to keep herself in check.

They watched on as the men worked, and finally Bae turned to look at his mother.

"Mama," he said softly, looking much more like a little boy than a teenager, "Why would someone do this?"

Belle shook her head, her sheer black veil fluttered in front of her. Rumple had insisted that he be allowed to give her proper grieving clothes. He'd promised nothing too fine, and had created a simple woolen dress, painted a deep back for her to wear. She'd taken it mutely, not having the strength to protest.

"I don't know, Bae," she whispered, and her voice was rough from her time spent crying. Belle had always been strong in the face of adversity and sorrow, but this was too much. Her father had been the foundation of her strength. He'd always encouraged her bravery and curiosity, even when she had defied the norms of their society. He'd wanted her to be her own person. "Let no one decide your fate but you," he told her as a child when she would come home crying because others told her that she couldn't do something. She had taken that advice and made it her motto. It was her battle cry against a world that tried to stifle her.

Now she stood at her father's grave, wondering why something so horrible could have happened to someone so good. Maurice had never hurt anyone. Even when he'd served the king, he'd been generous and merciful, a trait which often got soldier's in trouble. Maurice had a way about him that made everyone like him. He was accepting of all, and accepted by all in return. The thought that someone sought to harm him was almost unfathomable. Her father didn't deserve this. No one deserved this.

She recalled Rumple's words, as they sat huddled on the floor of her father's house. He'd explained everything, his grief loosening his tongue and causing him to admit to everything. Her father had needed money. Rumple offered to help. Her heart fluttered for a brief moment at the thought of her husband doing such a selfless thing. It hurt her to know they kept such a thing from her, but she couldn't find it in her to be angry. Her heart was heavy enough. The thought that someone would murder her father over gold was enough to turn her against the stuff for good. What good was gold when it left a hole in her heart that no amount of wealth could fill?

As if drawn in by her thoughts, Rumplestiltskin left his post and approached her. He moved slowly, as if she were a wild animal that might recoil or strike if he moved too quickly. She glanced up at him through her veil, and he offered her his best smile. It was unconvincing. "Why don't you go home and rest?" He suggested gently, lifting his arms over Bae to squeeze her shoulders, "I'll come for you when they're done."

She shook her head. "I'm not leaving him."

He sighed and moved his hand to rub at the back of her neck. "All right, dearest."

He turned and walked back to the grave. Picking up his shovel, he began to dig again. He could have this whole thing finished by now, with a sweep of his hand. But he did not attempt it. It was best to do some things the old way, and the labor was good for him. It kept him from thinking of the wretches who did this and what he would do if he ever found them. And he would find them. But first he had to attend to Maurice. That and seeing to Belle and Bae were was his first priority at the moment. Once he had them settled, he would find whoever killed Maurice and make them pay.

Author's Note:

Maurice's death was not an easy thing to write. I admit I cried when I originally wrote it a few months ago, then cried again when I spent this week editing it.

Thank you, as always, for your kind words. I've had a rough week, but reading your comments and theories genuinely brightens my day. This story is one of the few things I'm truly happy with, so knowing you guys enjoy just makes everything that much sweeter.

Chapter 26 will be posted Friday, May 9!

Thanks to my betas, as always, for catching my stupid mistakes.

Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time. All recognizable characters belong to ABC and the creators of OUAT.