"Words are cheap," sneered Nimue. "Show us that you mean it. Free us."
Merlin closed his eyes and murmured, "You forget what you are. Nimue won her freedom long ago... the freedom of the grave."
Belle shuddered and clung to her husband's arm. Rumple was a knife's edge away from that 'freedom'. "Please. Can't you help us?"
"If he dies, all of the darkness will reside in her," the simulacrum said. "If he dies because you withheld your aid which could have saved him, how much hatred will burn in her heart? Is that something you wish to find out?"
"I don't think threats will help," Belle said, not liking the glee barely hidden under this Nimue's words, as if she longed to see such an outcome play out. The hatred was clearly in Nimue's heart, as much as the remnants of love — or at least in their perception of her. But Belle remembered how she had felt the first time Rumple had died, how much it had hurt, how angry she had been at fate. How much resentment at the uselessness of 'heroes' she had buried back then. The darkness reveled in such feelings.
No one will ever listen to you unless you MAKE them listen. Nothing will ever change unless you MAKE it change. The voice in her head was an echo of Nimue's. But she still didn't think threats would help, so she bit her tongue and waited for the Sorcerer to answer.
Rumplestiltskin's eyes had not left Merlin. "Can you do it? Can you undo this binding without killing me?"
Merlin opened his eyes and sighed. "Yes. I think so. But trapped as I am, I will need your assistance." After a few moments of thought, he said, "Excalibur. I will need Excalibur." His eyes turned to Nimue. "And the Promethean flame. I know its last ember was taken and hidden deep inside the darkness."
Rumple's gaze finally shifted to Nimue. "Well, dearie?"
Nimue stepped slowly to stand in front of Rumplestiltskin. Belle tensed. "You've been dead before. Tell me, is there peace for us at the end?"
Belle held her breath. If Rumple answered wrong... This simulacrum was not real, but it was part of the Dark One, and could wield any stray suicidal thought against him to kill him — and Belle knew Rumple had thought about it. Love or hate? Did Nimue hope to send Merlin to the Underworld to join her ghost?
"Not that I have seen," he said at last. "But if I live, I promise to try... to find it. For you, for me, for..." His voice trailed off, but Belle could feel his thoughts turn in her direction.
Belle nodded. "Even if we have to create it ourselves."
Nimue weighed their answers silently for a long moment. Then she reached out and touched Rumple's forehead. "There. It is unlocked."
"Ah." Rumple snapped his fingers. A twist of magic brought the ashy black lump to his hand. The faintest hint of red lit its center. He studied it, and breathed, "Thank you."
Belle stared at it in fascination. Was this really the last remnant of the fire stolen from heaven? Then she shook herself from her trance. "Right. Excalibur. I assume King Arthur has it?"
"It is always at his side," Merlin confirmed.
"Well, he has to sleep sometime." Belle stepped back. As Rumple turned to frown at her, she forestalled his objections, "I'll be perfectly safe. You're the one with a deadly piece of metal implanted in your neck. You stay here with Merlin."
Rumple capitulated after a few token grumbles. "Be careful, sweetheart."
She smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Of course."
Belle was still smiling when she stepped out of the tree. Sparks of excitement ran through her, fueled by renewed hope. Merlin himself had agreed to help! Rumple could really be saved.
Hidden under her concealment spell, Belle made her way into the castle and located Arthur. He and Guinevere were in the great hall, presiding over a petty dispute between two farmers. The arguments made her head swim, or perhaps it was the disorienting effects of seeing two versions of everything simultaneously. There was no great hall, only a dusty dirt track and a row of wooden hovels. Then the richly furnished palace asserted itself again.
Belle retreated to a quiet corner on a balcony on the upper level and massaged her eyes. As expected, Arthur was wearing Excalibur on his belt. Belle would stick to her plan and wait until night to steal it. She opened her eyes again and breathed carefully, letting the contradictory impressions flow together in her mind. Once everything made sense again, she left the castle and found a piece of wood to whittle into the rough shape of a sword.
Later, she slipped into the king's chambers, easily bypassing the armed guards and the simple protection magic Arthur had found from somewhere. She hid herself and waited.
It wasn't difficult to take Excalibur once everyone was asleep, and replace it with her copy (the illusion refined once she had a good look at the real thing). Still, Rumple looked tremendously relieved to see her return safely, Excalibur in hand.
After Merlin took the sword, Belle handed Rumple a basket. "I bought this at the market earlier."
He glanced inside, his expression soft. "Thank you."
"It's just some bread and cheese. I figured those are probably real enough." She wasn't so sure about the meals they had consumed back at the inn. Probably it was fine, but why tempt fate?
Merlin shook his head when Rumple offered him a share. "Despite appearances, I am still currently a tree."
A tree that was also a sorcerer. Merlin coaxed the ember into a flame that he held in his palm, where it burned nearly white with only a tinge of orange. The silky strands of a protection spell flowed around the flame, shielding them from being burned.
Following his instructions, Belle held Excalibur, its broken tip hovering over the back of Rumple's neck as he knelt in front of her. It reminded her of a knighting ceremony, and she muttered under her breath, "Arise, Sir Rumplestiltskin of the Round Table!"
Rumple twisted around to give her an unamused look. "I don't think so, dear..."
"Don't move!" admonished Merlin. "Do you have any idea how dangerous this is?"
"Sorry. Nerves," said Belle sheepishly.
Merlin stepped closer, Nimue lurking in his shadow like his guilty conscience. He took a deep breath, but didn't turn his head. The hand that didn't hold the flame reached out to Rumple's neck. "Both of you. Be still."
The command struck her through the spine like lightning. All thought of motion became unimaginable, leaving only her heart beating frantically. She could sense Rumple struggling with a rising tide of panic.
First came the ribbons of the enchanted hat, unraveling themselves from the collar to slither up Merlin's arm and twine around his fingers. Using the same hand, he shifted the broken tip of Excalibur to lightly press again the metal of the collar, then brought the flame closer with his other hand.
Rumple's skin glistened with sweat, a living statue slowly cooked from the inside as the heat of the flame was absorbed into what had been the dagger.
Burning... Belle could see it and do nothing.
But even as it burned him, the metal turned liquid and flowed miraculously out of his body and into the sword. The ribbons on Merlin's hand glowed with power, spreading out to wrap around the blade. The patterns on the metal squirmed under the touch of that magic, reshaped into new forms. Then Merlin lifted his hand from the sword, the ribbons following his gesture, sliding up his arm and threading themselves into his robe, where they glowed briefly before fading to obscurity.
Suddenly, Belle found that she could move again. Instinctively, she retreated, pulling the reforged sword away from her husband. "Rumple!"
He gasped and collapsed forward to writhe on the ground, hands clasping his neck. Blood trickled between his fingers.
Dropping the sword, Belle hurried to kneel at his side, summoning magic to heal him as best she could. Darkness surged through them both. Blinding pain left her unable to breathe.
Then, relief. "Rumple? Are you all right?"
He nodded, hauling himself back upright. He touched his neck and winced. "I won't bleed to death, at least."
Belle inspected the damage. "That's going to leave scars."
He laughed. He caught Belle's hands and looked at her, his eyes bright with sudden elation. "Sweetheart, none of that matters. We're free!"
"Yes, so it seems." Merlin caught their attention with Excalibur, holding the newly repaired sword vertically and twisting it to show both sides — both mercifully free of any inscription.
"We're free!" Belle hugged Rumple joyfully. "He did it."
"Yes. Yes." He smiled back, a hint of tears gleaming in his eyes.
Belle broke free reluctantly and turned to Merlin. "Thank you. Thank you so much..."
Merlin sighed. He lowered the tip of the sword to the ground. "I don't know if you should thank me. This was not the course foreseen... it may not end well."
"Be grateful there was no talk of severing anyone's immortality, this time," spat Nimue.
"Precisely my point. The last time I succumbed to selfishness and tried to deviate from the prophecy, it only condemned us both to this misery." Merlin looked at Belle and her husband. "I hope you can do better."
Belle frowned. "This prophecy of yours, what was it supposed to accomplish?"
"The survival of the storytelling realms, and the great darkness laid to its final rest." His eyes lingered on Rumplestiltskin for a moment, as if he wanted to say more, but he shook his head and shut his mouth.
"Laid to its final rest?" Rumple looked skeptical. "You know, I thought I'd done that before..."
"Fate was aligned against you, then," Merlin said softly. "But it proved your capacity for such a sacrifice. You have courage enough for someone who calls himself a coward."
"Fate aligned..." Belle didn't like the implications of what on the surface sounded like a compliment. "Wait. Wait, are you saying, in this prophecy of yours, that Rumple has to die again?"
Merlin inclined his head. That was a yes, then.
Rumple let out an audible breath. He ran a soothing hand over Belle's back. "Don't listen to him, sweetheart."
Belle stiffened. She stalked forward, aiming a finger at Merlin's chest. "No. Not again! Damn your prophecy."
Merlin sighed. "The fates have written it..."
"No!" Belle wanted to scream. She hadn't been able to avert the seer's prophecy before, but that only made her more determined this time around. "Over my dead body!"
Merlin winced. Nimue laughed. She said mockingly, "Ah, child, the fates must have written you out of the story, too."
Suddenly, Rumple's arm was around Belle again, dragging her away from Merlin. His voice was harsh as he spoke past her ear. "No. We are not doing this. The future is never what you think. And if you think to force us back onto your 'fated' path..."
Merlin waved a hand in a conciliatory gesture. "I won't. I already agreed to try something else."
There was a heavy silence as they glared at each other.
So my death was prophesied? It gave Belle a peculiar feeling, cold and shivery as if a ghost had walked through her. She did her best to put it out of her mind. They had to forge their own path, regardless of any prophecies. She gauged the tension in the air, tried to dissipate it with a lighter tone. "So, the people of Camelot. You were going to help us with that..."
Rumple cleared his throat. "Which will be easier if he's no longer a tree. Nimue? One good turn deserves another, wouldn't you say?"
"Very well," conceded Nimue. The spell had been hers, a secret locked inside her memories. Now she allowed the current hosts of the darkness access to that knowledge, and they were able to return Merlin to his human form.
The first one they awakened from the enchantment was Guinevere. Her case was the most difficult and took the longest, and required a potion made from a rare fungus. Merlin had spent enough of his youth wandering the wilds of Camelot to know where everything grew. In order to administer the potion discreetly, Belle found herself assisting Rumple in another kidnapping.
"Second time's the charm," he quipped, in answer to her guilty expression and discontented sigh. "Or anti-charm, in this case."
Which was all very well, until Guinevere woke up in a strange room, surrounded by strangers, and screamed bloody murder.
"Peace, your majesty. I am Merlin." The sorcerer displayed Excalibur as evidence of his trustworthiness. Belle, who had gotten used to the Land Without Magic's idea of credentials, was amazed that it worked.
Guinevere's eyes widened. She lowered her voice at once. "Merlin? The sorcerer in the tree?"
Merlin nodded. "I was only recently freed."
"This..." Guinevere's gaze traced the line of the sword all the way to its tip. "Is that real? You mended it?" Then her face hardened. "You! You were the one who gave Arthur that idiotic quest that consumed his sanity."
"I didn't realize he would become so obsessed," Merlin admitted. "I'm sorry for how it turned out."
"Sorry? Sorry!?" Guinevere clamped her jaws shut, swallowing a whole string of expletives by her expression. She closed her eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. Then her eyes snapped open again, focused on no one in the room. "Gods. What have I done? I have to go see him!"
"'Him'?" Rumple had placed himself strategically in front of the door.
"Out of my way!" Guinevere gestured shortly at him. When he didn't move, she took another look at him. "Who are you to bar the queen of Camelot?"
Rumple bowed impishly. "We've met, dearie." He waved a hand in front of his face, dispelling his human appearance.
"The Dark One!" Guinevere's eyes darted to Merlin. "You were in league with the Dark One all along?"
"You misunderstand," Merlin began.
"Needs must, desperate times, desperate measures, and so on, and so forth," snapped Rumple impatiently.
"We couldn't leave Camelot under this enchantment," explained Belle. "They're both at fault for this situation, so it's only fair they work together to resolve it."
Guinevere looked at Belle, anger turning to bewilderment. "And who might you be?"
"I'm Belle." In the spirit of honesty, she added, "You could say I'm the other Dark One. Rumplestiltskin is my true love, my husband."
Guinevere recoiled. "Witch!"
Rumple's eyes narrowed. "I'll thank you to keep a civil tongue in your head, or you can do without..."
Belle, remembering what he had done to the sheriff of Nottingham, laid a calming hand on Rumple's wrist. "It's true that I have magic, but I'm not here to hurt anyone, and neither are they."
"We are here to redress past mistakes," said Merlin. "Please, believe us."
Guinevere nodded slowly. "I suppose I must. It was my mistake, too." She gave Rumplestiltskin a look. "You didn't mention that the Sands of Avalon could be used to such devastating effect."
"Had you stuck to the intended use, it wouldn't have been relevant," retorted Rumple. Then he sighed, a guilty twitch twisting his mouth. "Next time you make a deal with the Dark One, remember to buy the extended service plan!"
"There will be no next time." Guinevere glared at him. "There is no honor in your trickery and temptations."
"That's why they call me the Dark One, not the Light One, dearie." Rumple twirled his hands in his trademark flourish.
Belle opened her mouth, wanting to defend his honor, but Rumple shook his head at her.
"But that's all water under the bridge," he said. "I'm more curious as to this 'him' you were so eagerly rushing to see..."
"Sir Lancelot," Guinevere told them. "He... he returned to Camelot a few weeks ago and tried to tell me. But I didn't believe him. I accused him... falsely... I let Arthur throw him into the dungeon."
Rumple nodded at Guinevere's words. "The only person in Camelot unaffected by the enchantment. He seemed to have some natural resistance."
"His mother is an immortal sorceress," said Merlin. "Retired centuries ago to live in a little cottage by a lake, but she once ruled the island of Aeaea."
"The one who turned people into pigs?" Belle remembered reading about her, but hadn't realized she was still around.
"The very same," agreed Rumple. "Enough chit-chat. Once Camelot recalls the truth of things, you can have whatever heartfelt conversations you need and sort yourselves out."
"Very well. But if you betray us..." Guinevere trailed off. It was evident to everyone that she had nothing to threaten them with, and no ties of family or kinship to appeal to.
But her trust wasn't necessary for what they had to do. Working together, the three of them created a spell to give the enchanted citizens their true memories back. Merlin unravelled his hat into threads that he sewed into the people of Camelot. They would gradually drain out the magic of the sands and channel it all into the palace, changing illusion into solid reality.
"It will serve as a symbol, a monument to the ideal of Camelot," Merlin announced to the court (knights and commoners alike crowded in the chamber magically expanded for the occasion).
In the chaos unleashed by the breaking of the enchantment, Arthur had asserted his right to rule, but Guinevere and Lancelot had united to oppose him. So this open meeting had been called by Merlin to settle the matter. At first, Arthur had refused to recognize the Sorcerer's authority, pulling out what he thought was Excalibur. While he stood humiliated with the wooden replica in hand, Merlin had brandished the true Excalibur...
...then plunged it into the rock that formed the centerpiece of the legendary Round Table — the same rock from which Arthur had pulled the sword to claim his kingship.
The kingship now being challenged.
"You've lost their faith, Arthur," Merlin said, addressing the gathered crowd as much as the man he had once chosen to fulfill his prophecies.
"Due to your tricks, magician," sneered Arthur. His eyes swept over Lancelot. "So this is your new puppet. A man I once counted as my friend."
"Lancelot has nothing to do with it!" Guinevere broke in. "He only ever wanted to help you, help our people."
"By stealing my wife? That's the kind of help you mean?'
"I had chosen you, but you took that choice away from me," said Guinevere. "Lancelot understood, because he was our friend. He was leaving."
"Yet here he stands!" Arthur gestured at Lancelot, who had barely spoken throughout the proceedings.
"Because he knew you had cast a vile spell over me, over the whole kingdom, and he wanted to save us." Guinevere hadn't directly addressed Lancelot at all, but her stance aligned her with the knight.
"It was my right, as your king." Arthur's gaze went to Excalibur. "I was protecting the integrity of Camelot when you would not."
"You may have pulled the sword from the stone once," Merlin interjected softly, "but I wonder what its judgement would be today."
Guinevere shook her head sadly. "I fear he is not the man I married. He changed, and not for the better."
"You...!" Arthur stopped himself. He glanced around the chamber, as if to seek support, but Guinevere's doubts were mirrored in the murmurs of the crowd.
"Without the sword in your hand, you're no more the king than I am!" shouted someone from the back of the crowd. Then others cried out in agreement.
The crowd took up a chant of "No sword, no king!"
Rumple and Belle exchanged a look. She felt this was too much like exchanging one bit of magic for another, and no way to select a ruler, but as an outsider, it wasn't up to her. Rumple smirked and joined in with the chanting until Belle kicked him in the shin.
Rumple rolled his eyes and fell silent. So did the crowd, after some stern looks from Merlin.
Arthur's eyes had gone back to Guinevere. "I am the king. I'll prove it to you."
"It could kill you," Merlin reminded him. "Excalibur is a gift of the gods, not to be taken lightly."
Arthur didn't look away from his wife. His pride clearly wouldn't let him back down. "I have nothing to fear."
Guinevere returned his look coldly. "Don't do it on my account. Whether you live or die, king or commoner, I'm done with you."
But Arthur strode up to the table and without hesitation reached for the sword in the stone. He tightened both hands around the hilt, grunting softly with exertion. The gem in the pommel glowed red.
Magic flared.
The would-be king was consumed by a cloud of gray smoke, imploding in a soft whuff of air. Dust settled to the floor to the shocked silence of the crowd.
Then all at once, cacophony filled the chamber as everyone suddenly had something to say.
"Who's next?" was Rumplestiltskin's contribution, while Belle shook her head and muttered, "Not a fan of second chances, that sword, huh?"
The clamor subsided gradually, with Guinevere and Lancelot emerging as the ones with the largest following among the citizens of Camelot. Belle and Rumple kept out of it, letting Merlin mediate as the future direction of his beloved kingdom was decided. Unfortunately for him, they had had enough of sorcerers and prophecies.
"Take your precious Excalibur and be gone!" ordered Guinevere, now freshly queen of Camelot by acclamation, with the backing of Lancelot and most of the knights. "The palace that was built out of the dreams of our people, we will keep, but the sword in the stone shall no longer be our master."
"May you rule wisely, your majesty." Merlin swept up Excalibur and the stone and vanished in a cloud of smoke.
Rumple caught Belle's eye, and in silent agreement they followed after the Sorcerer.
The world dissolved around them. When it returned, the light had dimmed and the air had gone cool and clammy. They had materialized in a cavern, its walls studded with tiny crystals that glowed white. The sword in the stone dominated the space like an altar, casting sinister shadows in the flickering crystal light.
"Still here?" Merlin raised an eyebrow at them from the other side of the stone.
"In case you've forgotten, the rest of the world is caught in your Author's magic as thoroughly as Camelot was by the Sands of Avalon," said Belle. She turned to Rumple for support, but found him staring at the sword, his mind elsewhere. She felt in her heart the gnawing fear that ate at him.
What if someone gets ahold of that sword and casts Merlin's tethering spell again?
The thought ran like ice through her bones. Just how fragile was their freedom? Something that happened once, could happen again.
Merlin sighed. "That was not meant to happen."
"People will always do the unexpected." Belle paused, leaning a little against Rumple to try to ground him. "Unless, of course, you control them magically. With a dagger. Or a sword..."
Merlin shook his head. "Lesson learned. I won't make that mistake again."
"But if you can do it, so could someone else," Belle pointed out. For someone who spouted so many prophecies, Merlin could be remarkably short-sighted. "Isn't there some way to make sure no one is ever enslaved to a bit of metal ever again?"
Rumple tore his gaze away from the sword and smiled faintly at her, then turned to Merlin. "Well, dearie? Now that your hat's undone, do you have any other tricks up your sleeve?"
Merlin grimaced. "Too many people in the world have been enslaved under threat of sharp pieces of metal. That's not something I can change at the wave of a hand, no matter what Nimue thinks..."
"We'll settle for this one particular specimen, thank you," said Belle. She could see he did know how to do it. Why is he hesitating?
"He doesn't trust us, sweetheart." Rumple answered her thought. His smile turned cynical. "He wants to keep a weapon in reserve in case we go rogue."
Merlin's guilty flinch said Rumple was right. "It's not that simple..."
"What. No, but we already had this discussion!" Belle's voice rose in frustration. "Trying something different, remember?"
"It's not that. To truly be free of mortal control, you must appeal to the source," Merlin said reluctantly. His eyes dropped to the sword in the stone. "You must ask Excalibur for a miracle." He lifted a hand in a helpless gesture. "It may grant your wish. Or it may..."
Belle fell back, stumbling against Rumple, who caught her in a steadying grip. The memory of Arthur disintegrating in a cloud of dust was vivid in her mind. "Or it may kill us."
"Of course," breathed Rumple. All magic comes with a price. That is ours. "I should have guessed."
The gem in the pommel seemed to blink balefully at them.
Their freedom depended on the whims of a mute piece of divine metal. Who knew what souls it judged worthy? Belle shivered, feeling hollow and weak at the thought of what it could do to her. "There's no other way to persuade it?"
"Only a leap of faith," murmured Merlin, his expression sympathetic. "Do you think I wasn't frightened to drink from the grail, after seeing a man destroyed before my eyes only moments before?"
Merlin survived. So did Nimue. Belle took a deep breath. She clutched at Rumple, reminding herself that he had walked into a burning castle, risking death in order to save his family.
"Belle..." Rumple's whisper only made her more determined. "It's not worth it. Gambling our lives away for a selfish desire?"
"For our freedom." Belle wanted to shake him. "You were willing to sacrifice someone else's life for that... This is better, don't you see? No one else has to pay the price."
"Well, maybe I was wrong before. We're free now. And I trust you'll stop me before I set any nefarious plots in motion, sweetheart." He nodded at Merlin. "Our friend here will have no excuse to revert to old solutions."
"But if we don't dare that leap of faith, Merlin will always be set above us, whether any of us likes it or not." Belle saw it with clarity that almost felt like prophecy. The magic they had, it came from the grail, from Excalibur, but it would never truly belong to them without the blessing of its source. Sources. Darkness and light. A serpent with two heads. From one altar to another — they had made their sacrifice to Our Grandmother already. Now they faced the orthodox gods of this world. "Rumple, we have to do this. As long as we hold that magic by thievery and murder, it will continue to darken our hearts."
They had slowed the process by sharing a heart, but they hadn't stopped it. Belle could sense it, a gradual decay that would consume them in the end. She turned to approach the stone, tugging at Rumple to follow.
He resisted, and she saw his face crumple in dread. "Belle..."
She bit her lip. She had no right to force him. "It's all right. I can ask for both of us."
Rumple reached out to pull her away, but in the end, he wouldn't force her, either.
Belle couldn't look at his pleading face anymore. She turned, silently begging Excalibur, Please, he's a good man. If you won't grant us this, then just... take back the magic. If it's my fate to die here... so be it. It's nothing he hasn't done for me...
She steeled herself and reached for the hilt. Then she heard hasty steps, and a hand was reaching out at the same time, startling her into a moment of stillness.
"Belle!" Rumplestiltskin faced her across the stone.
She smiled despite her fear. Always the hero she needed, there for her even when he thought she was making a mistake. "Together, then."
Their fingers closed around the sword simultaneously.
Author's notes: Ok, so this is an AU, so I am totally taking liberties and cherry-picking which bits of canon dialogue are true (blame the rest on "unreliable narrators" and "la la la, they didn't say that").
Also, for this AU, Lancelot's mother is Circe. (Explains how he escaped Cora and his apparent resistance to magic.)
