She was being summoned. The horrifying knowledge sank like a stone into the pit of Belle's stomach that she could be summoned, and there was nothing she could do about it. Magic enveloped her, compelled her to go, to follow the trace of her name called through the ether. More than acquiring magic, more than learning to shapeshift into another form, the summoning made her feel less human — like a thing to be used by others, a thing that had no say in its own fate. Was this what it was like for Rumple, as the Dark One, answeing the calls of desperate souls for centuries? The fleeting thought was followed by another, He was lucky to keep possession of his dagger for most of those years. No wonder his enslaved predecessor had sought death.
She reached instinctively for her crystal pendant, crying out through the link for Rumple. It was like shouting into her own coffin: nothing came back, nothing went through, and she was sealed inside under a heavy layer of dirt. All that she could hear was her own name, a hook embedded in her very being.
Belle answered the summons because she had no choice (and until now she had never understood how absolute that loss of freedom could be) but she needed to go, to see the face of whoever it was that had enslaved her.
A stranger's face, yet something tugged at her memory, something she had seen in a book. She had no time to think, all her attention focused now onto the dagger in the man's left hand. He turned the blade to show her — her own name in black letters etched into the steel-gray metal. She gasped. "How... who...?"
"I am known as the Apprentice."
And there was really only one sorcerer who deferred in this bitter, passive-aggressive namelessness to the master he had betrayed: Merlin's Apprentice. The one nicknamed "Mouse" by his one-time comrades (all dead now, as documented in the old book she had found in the Great Library of Yrkthera). Belle felt an unreasoning surge of anger to find that he looked like a kindly old man, easily mistaken for someone's beloved grandfather.
"And you are Belle, of course." He lowered the dagger to his side, but its constraint on her free will didn't waver. "Lovely to meet you at last. You will be a great asset to our cause."
"Your cause? I have nothing to do with it," spat Belle.
"You brought it upon yourself, child, meddling with matters better left alone, following in the footsteps of my master's rebellion." The Apprentice spoke without rancor, merely the weariness of dispensing wisdom to someone too stupid to value his gift. "I do what I must to mitigate the damage. Merlin created the spell to tether his fallen lover to a shard of Excalibur. The same spell will ensure that your feet do not stray from the true path of light."
"Slavery is evil!"
"A lesser evil." The Apprentice gestured to a battered wooden chair next to an equally battered table. The room around them was otherwise sparsely furnished, and the doors were windowless stone, with a dankness to the air that suggested they were underground. "Please, sit. We may be here for some time. Make yourself comfortable."
And Belle had no choice about that, either, though there was a limit to how comfortable she could ever be with someone holding that level of control over her fate.
The Apprentice sat down across her in a matching chair, never once lettng go of the dagger. "Now, then. First things first."
"What do you want..." Belle whispered, despair making even her questions fall flat.
"You will not resist my commands. You will not resist me or thwart my aims. Seek not for loopholes such as the Dark One is so fond of; such slyness does not become a wielder of light magic."
"Neither does kidnapping and enslavement, yet here we are." She muttered her words more for herself than in hopes of changing his mind. The command not to resist kept her docile, however much she screamed in defiance somewhere deep inside.
The Apprentice continued as if he hadn't heard. "You will not reveal my part in your actions, whether through word or deed. You will not show in any way that you are under compulsion. No confessions, no hints, no dropped clues."
There was no reason for anyone to even suspect. Belle hadn't even considered the possibility in all her research, an oversight she could only silently curse herself for. She wondered how long it would be until she was missed. She had said she was going to Avonlea to visit her cousin. No one expected her back for at least a few days.
"You will make no attempt to take this dagger from me. No clever ploys to force me to give it up, either. Don't even think about it."
Pain stabbed behind her eyes. The very command provoked a burning need to take the dagger back, but the thoughts, now forbidden, were forcibly suppressed by magic. In a daze, Belle heard the Apprentice enumerate the last few standing orders on his list.
After the rules (chains that grew heavier with every word) were wrapped tightly around her, the Apprentice began his interrogation. He didn't need such crude measures as threats or torture, and told her so, in explicit terms that made Belle's skin crawl.
"Were I evil, I would remind you that this dagger was forged from Excalibur." The Apprentice dug the tip into the table, carving an idle line through the wood. "Excalibur was forged to sever immortality. This dagger, used on a mortal, is lethal beyond any earthly blade." He met Belle's eyes and raised his eyebrows. "I believe your family — your mother, your father, your sister... are all mortal. Not only that, they have no magic to defend themselves if an evil man were to bespell themselves into the royal castle of Avonlea and slit their throats while they were sleeping..."
Belle felt the blood drain from her face. "No... please..."
"Were I evil, I might punish your defiance by forcing you to do the throat-slitting. And to make sure you wake them up before you do it."
Belle shut her eyes, not wanting to hear any more, but he continued relentlessly.
"Rumor has it that you are with child. If I were evil, I might rid the realms of the unholy spawn you carry by commanding you to rip it out of your belly with your bare hands and crush it before it can draw its first breath," mused the Apprentice.
No! But there was no power in the thought to move her to action. You will not resist.
"But I am not. I am a faithful servant of the gods, the just and benevolent gods of Olympus," said the Apprentice gently. "You need not fear. I need not resort to darkness to achieve my aims."
He only needed to ask politely, and answer after answer spilled uncontrollably out of Belle's mouth.
She betrayed everyone with painful honesty. She told the Apprentice about her own life, then about Rumple, and Bae. About Marceline and Gaston, about Marceline's demon lover. About Maleficent and Lily and Emma. About the Dark One's deal with Isaac Heller. About Rumplestiltskin and Belle's speculations and plans.
Tears trickled from her eyes, but Belle couldn't stop herself from talking. She confirmed that she was carrying Rumple's child.
"Best to catch these things early," was the Apprentice's comment. "A pity about the two girls, but it's nothing we can't work around."
Her blood ran cold. Work around? Did he mean murder? She didn't say anything. Having said far too much already, she let nothing escape her lips if she could help it. The result was a resounding silence, as the Apprentice's last statement didn't demand a reply.
They looked across the table at each other, the Apprentice cheerfully smug while Belle sank deeper into horror and despair.
You have to... Another stab of pain. The rest of the thought died stillborn. But she refused to give in completely. She was only one person. One pawn that the Apprentice now controlled. Others remained on the board. As long as they were free, she had hope.
The Apprentice looked at her, a tiny smile twisting the corner of his lips. "Tell me, my dear, what are you thinking?" Upon hearing the thoughts dragged out into the open, he burst into laughter. "Very good, very good. Well, we'll make a start on removing the other pieces, shall we?"
Belle stared at him. What was he planning?
He toyed with the dagger for a moment as he seemed lost in thought. Then, "You said you were on your way to see your cousin. Far be it for me to stand in the way of the bonds of family. You will indeed go to your cousin. And then..."
The Apprentice explained what he wanted from her.
Belle had no choice but to comply.
The Apprentice had his lair in Camelot. The compulsion of the dagger had summoned Belle there all the way from the Enchanted Forest, the power in his tethering spell boosted by his own magic making it possible for her to travel across the sea separating the realms in a single step. Going the other way was more difficult. Belle took to the air in her winged form, a long flight high up over the clouds. She came to earth again in the hills behind the royal castle. It was night and a chilly breeze blew down from the highlands.
Distance didn't lessen the dagger's grip on her soul.
You should warn them. A hero would find a way to warn them. But the thought was weak, toothless, failing against the boundaries of what she had been commanded to do. Another thought, fainter, You care too much. Let go. Free yourself... lose yourself... She couldn't. She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering at the memory of the mad look in the Apprentice's eye as he dispensed his purely theoretical threats against her family. No, she couldn't risk it. She lowered herself to one knee and scratched a mark into a half-buried boulder, infusing it with a pinch of her magic.
She appeared in a cloud of smoke inside Lord Girard's mansion, in the wing occupied by his son and daughter-in-law. Belle found her cousin in their dining room with a handful of the local gentry. Alec, who was standing guard at the door, let her in, but her eyes betrayed her wariness. Belle received a few puzzled looks — Belle had been away long enough that her face had become unfamiliar and her clothes unfashionable — until Marceline came to greet her with a smile and a hug.
"Cousin Belle. How unexpected." Marceline gestured at the servants to set another place for her. "Sit, sit. Have you eaten?"
Belle shook her head, her manner subdued as she realized she would have to wait for a quieter moment. She saw out of the corner of her eye that Alec was still watching her. So she ate her food and engaged in the minimum of small talk to avoid suspicion from the guests. Marceline didn't press her, keeping up a stream of meaningless chatter with the others. By then, those who had forgotten had been reminded discreetly of Belle's identity, and most weren't daring enough to provoke the attention of the Dark One's wife. At most she received a few curious questions about Schlaraffenland or Rumplestiltskin, which she answered briefly and politely.
Afterwards, Marceline invited Belle to her own quarters, where they could talk freely, she said. "Michel will keep the guests busy."
Belle nodded. The couple had to keep up appearances, which was why Alec was stationed outside the room in the hallway at the moment.
"So I suppose you're here on business and not pleasure, or you would be with your parents," said Marceline, giving her a knowing look. "I hear congratulations are in order, but you and your husband left so suddenly, we didn't have time to talk."
"No," Belle agreed softly. Her eyes lingered on her cousin's abdomen, imagining the baby growing in her womb. She couldn't do this. She had to... You will not resist. The fight drained out of her before it could begin.
"You're troubled. Were you not... are you not happy that you...?" Marceline probed delicately.
"Oh no, it's not that." Belle forced a smile. "Rumple and I are... ecstatic... to be having a new child. It's just that, what you told about what happened to you..." Her eyes dropped to her cousin's heavily pregnant belly. "I wanted to ask you..."
"Ah. I understand." Marceline moved to pick up the teapot on the sideboard and poured out two cups.
Belle followed swiftly behind her cousin, the compulsion inside her head urging, Now. She closed in on Marceline's unguarded back and concentrated magic into her hand. It was simple to thrust that hand straight through clothing, skin, bone, and flesh to reach the heart and yank it free. It was an eerily clean process. Not a trace of blood clung to her fingers or smeared on cloth.
Marceline gasped, tea sloshing as she lost her grip on the pot, causing it to drop heavily back onto the sideboard, knocking over one of the cups. She turned, horror dawning on her face as she took in the sight of her own heart pulsing redly in Belle's hand.
"Don't move," said Belle, and because she was holding her cousin's heart, it became an order almost as absolute as the ones issued through the dagger. "That goes for you, too..."
Alec, hearing the commotion, had come rushing into the room. "You—!"
"Easy, now," Belle soothed. "I don't want anyone to get hurt."
"Too late," growled Alec, but she didn't advance further.
"Well, if you have any care for Marceline's life, then you understand that while I hold her heart..." Belle saw the look on the demon's face, and nodded. Holding one was effectively the same as holding both. She thought with a pang that it was no different than she and Rumple, as Zelena had understood all too well. Imitating Zelena was the last thing Belle wanted to do, yet here she was. She wanted to give the heart back, apologize, explain. You will not resist. She couldn't.
"Belle, please. I thought we were past this," Marceline pleaded. "Why are you doing this? What do you want?"
"She's dead," hissed Alec. "I will not let this stand."
Belle raised the heart in warning. "You must." She gave the Fury a pained look. "More than that, you are going to help me."
"You could have asked," muttered Marceline.
"What manner of help?" Alec demanded.
"Not here. Not yet." Belle cast another spell around the heart she had stolen. A failsafe, as she made sure they understood. "If anything happens to interrupt my concentration, Marceline's heart will be crushed instantly." It was a process already set in motion, only held back by Belle's will.
"And here your mother has been insisting to anyone who would listen that Belle, her dear sweet Belle, practices only light magic, despite being wed to the Dark One!" Marceline glared at her, words the only weapon left to her. "What would Lady Collette say, to see you with a living heart in your fist?"
"I've resigned myself to being a disappointment." The truth was, she just wanted to escape her invisible chains and be safe with her loved ones and never have to think about prophecies or gods or the Wood Beyond again. But Marceline's words sparked the memory of her Rumplestiltskin explaining how the other Rumplestiltskin — the one with Zelena — had gained mastery of the Dark One dagger by falling so far into the darkness that his name was unwritten from the blade. Darkness deep enough to bind all other Dark Ones to his will.
You must fall... that is the only path to freedom. Belle remembered what Rumple had said about the immolation of self in the light. It was what the Timers wanted of her. And now, faced with the betrayal of everyone she loved, the price did not seem too high to pay.
Marceline's eyes never left her face. Her tone lost its sarcastic edge and she said with quiet sincerity, "Belle... it's not too late. Whatever happened, whatever you did, you can change your mind. You don't have to do this."
The Apprentice's commands infested her mind, demanding attention, making her head throb in pain.
"What is the matter with you? I know you're not like this, not really."
Belle wished desperately that she could tell her cousin, beg for help. The words froze in her throat. No confessions. She had to... she had to...
Look into the light. But with her cousin's heart beating against her fingers, Belle found that she couldn't find the light anymore. She was too angry at what the Apprentice had done to her, and beneath that, afraid. Fear for her unborn child, fear of her own helplessness, fear of what her failure would mean for everyone she cared about. Rip it out of your belly with your bare hands and crush it before it can draw its first breath...
Let go. Let go of your attachments.
But she couldn't. Not with the Apprentice's words still echoing in her skull. The dagger's control had already reasserted itself. Belle found magic moving through her hands without her conscious volition. The failsafe spell completed, she secreted Marceline's heart in a magical pocket inside her left sleeve. "Let's go."
Belle wrapped magic around all three of them and took them away, flinging herself in the direction of the hilltop outside the capital, her mark on the boulder acting as an anchor or a beacon. She didn't waste time trying to explain things she was forbidden to even hint at. Blackmail was blackmail. Holding Marceline's life over the Fury's head, Belle forced Alec to open a portal into hell.
"I'm sorry," was all Belle could say when she forced her cousin through the portal. Turning to Alec, "Close the portal."
The demon hesitated, eyes wild, fixed on the open portal.
"Stop! It doesn't matter what realm she's in, if her heart is crushed, she dies," Belle said sharply. Then, more gently, "You can't follow her. Not yet. Later, I promise."
The demon looked at Belle, then, face masked in hatred, her teeth bared in a bestial snarl.
Belle choked back her own regret. She couldn't cry, couldn't hint that any of this was not her own doing. Or perhaps it was. She found it hard to separate the commands from her own thoughts. There was more. Worse.
Later, I promise. Words she wanted to say to herself. Hope that there was a living road through this nightmare. That the Apprentice and his masters would be defeated in the end.
"Another." Belle cleared her throat, her mind. "We aren't done yet."
Back to Schlaraffenland. Another day, another dinner party. Emma, getting reacquainted with her birth parents. Lily, her moral support. And Baelfire, her friend and potentially something more.
The Fury's portal swallowed them all. Belle made sure of that. She almost hoped Baelfire would manage to summon his father to stop her, but the Apprentice's orders had been too thorough. Belle had sent them all to sleep before anyone suspected her, Emma and Lily being too inexperienced to raise their guard against someone they trusted (because Bae did). At least she had been spared the sight of Rumple's son looking at her in hatred.
"Just one more," Belle told the Fury after it was done.
Maleficent was too canny to be caught off guard. And some instinct had already warned her by the time Belle and Alec made their way to the Forbidden Fortress where she made her home.
"Lady Belle." Maleficent met them outside the gates. The walls were too heavily warded for Belle to transport herself directly inside, and they both knew that Belle wouldn't bother unraveling the wards if she didn't have to. The ancient sorceress had donned the full regalia due to the Queen of the Moors, horned headdress and crystal-tipped staff and all. In this case, it was tantamount to a declaration of war. Her gaze swept over Belle and Alec, then to the space around them. "And a Fury? Where's the Dark One?"
"Rumple has nothing to do with this," Belle said quickly.
"'This'," Maleficent repeated flatly. "You mean, kidnapping my daughter and her foster-sister."
"And the Dark One's son," Alec added in a low voice.
Maleficent looked startled at the addition. She frowned, studying Belle with a calculating gaze.
The demon shot Belle a murderous look, but it was mixed with confusion. "You can't imagine you'll survive once he finds out what you've done."
"That's my business." Belle's face felt stiff with forcibly imposed calm. If this was the price of magic, she wasn't sure she wanted to survive. Zoso had succeeded in freeing himself of his burden, hadn't he? But the old Duke of the Frontlands hadn't been a sorcerer well-versed in twisting words and manipulating the intricate logic of magic.
"Your business. And what, precisely, is your business here?" asked Maleficent.
"I'm here to take you to your daughter."
Maleficent narrowed her eyes, glancing between Belle and the Fury. "I see."
Belle hoped that meant she wouldn't fight. The old dragon was too powerful for Belle to force through the portal against her will, not without risking killing one or both of them. She nodded to the Fury. "Open the portal."
Wings of feathered shadows flared as Alec's shape bled into its demonic form, the winds of hell blowing into the living realm. The ragged, lightning-ringed circle of the portal rose before them.
"Go," said Belle to the demon.
Alec didn't bother with a parting shot. She leaped into the void inside the circle and was gone.
"It won't stay open for long," Belle reminded Maleficent.
"That is where you sent my daughter? Into Tartarus?" Maleficent aimed the tip of her staff at Belle. "Do you swear it?"
"I swear it." Belle felt the magic tasting her words, the truth hanging in the air between them.
Then Maleficent aimed the staff towards the sky. Question and answer, caught in her spell, sped away into the sky. Belle didn't allow herself to wonder, didn't allow herself to look too closely.
(A message, something whispered in her heart. But as long as she didn't know, there was nothing to rebel against, nothing to resist, and a sliver of hope wriggled free...)
"Go," Belle said again, this time to Maleficent.
Maleficent nodded gravely. Stepped with unnerving calm into the portal.
A moment later, Belle followed. She felt it snap shut behind her.