The sun had just reached its zenith when Belle entered Rumple's lab. He had various pieces of gold laying around, some of them half twisted into prototype necklaces, all scattered amongst open books. Despite the afternoon sun, the drapes kept the room littered with dark shadows that oddly reminded Belle of when he'd hunched over his desk back at the Teapot Inn; an oddly endearing memory. She threw open the curtains which caused Rumple to hiss at the sudden brightness and shield his eyes like the wanna-be cave dweller he was.
"Oh calm down, it's not like the sun is going to kill you. Have you slept at all in the last two days?" He said nothing but Belle had already known the answer anyway. She placed her hands on her hips and shot him a stern expression. "Rumple, you're working yourself to death."
"I'm immortal." He grumbled.
"Rumple." She grabbed his hands and yanked on them to force eye contact, then she kissed him softly. "I love you. You're a stubborn man, but I love you. Please stop doing this to yourself."
"I love you, too."
She slipped into his lap and snaked an arm around his neck while his automatically went to curl around her waist as they rested their foreheads together lovingly.
"I know that you're trying so hard for Valdis' sake, you're a good father to our girls-" Their girls, Rumple liked the sound of that. "-but you may have to accept that this won't work. I know she'll never be able to walk around a city without being threatened and feared, but I'm sure Gordana could issue some sort of order to leave her unharmed and, of course, she'll always be welcome in Avonlea."
Rumple sighed deeply as he pulled Belle closer. "That's not the point, sweetheart. The point is that all she's known since the second she hatched is hostility and violence. Valdis might not slither away screaming at the sight of you, Phria and Demeer, but she is scared of everybody around her." He paused then, so long that Belle started to grow concerned. "… I stopped a war once, Belle. Ogres plagued my land just like yours. Our Duke had started sending children into battle, to die as fodder. I became what I am so my son wouldn't have to suffer the same fate. I've seen what numerous children look like when they know they're going to die, and that is the look in Valdis' eyes." Finally he looked up to the woman he loved. "I don't want her to look like that, Belle. I want her happy like Amicia is."
"And you still think you're a monster." She gazed upon him with such love. "Okay. Well, if you've tried everything you think will work, how about something like a different sigil in the stone?"
"Demeer has been quite the instructor on sigils and magic circles as well as their workings. We've tried everything as well as some of the markings fairies make in my realm."
Belle's eyebrows raised. "Fairies? They exist?"
"Annoyingly, yes." Rumple grumbled.
A few moments of silence passed between them as Belle pondered and thought, if the Dark One and the Grand Mage hadn't been able to come up with a viable solution then Belle doubted she'd be the one to crack the case, but trying couldn't have hurt. Avonlea had a rather extensive selection of rare tomes that Belle had enjoyed devouring over the years, and her knowledge of history was fairly extensive. However, with her having a fairly low magic level, her understanding of magical items and tools was somewhat lacking.
"Have you tried Draconic?"
"Ye-no, what?" Rumple's brow furrowed deeply.
"The markings on her egg were likely Draconic, probably made by Msiddi herself." Belle explained. "Valdis is part dragon so maybe she'd … resonate better with Draconic iconography."
Rumple kissed her hard. He'd never even thought about changing the root of the symbols he'd been using; it seemed so obvious now she'd said it aloud.
"Belle, that's genius. Why didn't I think of that?"
"Maybe because little to nothing is known about their magic and you haven't slept in two days?"
He ignored her teasing in favor of kissing her again. For a few quiet moments the lovers kissed and delighted in one another's touch. Rumple held her close, breathed in her comforting scent and soaked up every inch of love she was willing to give to him. Belle du Marchand, eldest daughter of King Maurice, true beauty and honestly good person – Rumple adored her, adored her with everything he had.
"Valdis and Amicia aren't the only ones I have jewelry for, but I don't know if you'll accept it."
"What are you talking about, Rumple?"
Belle's brow furrowed slightly as he shuffled to reach into his pocket. Then, as she sat in his lap with one arm around his neck and curiosity flourishing, Belle was presented with a dazzling gold ring with a perfectly circular sapphire in the centre. Such a dainty work of art embellished with swirls and flares all around the band. Some may have called the ring too simple for a princess, that the sapphire was too small or that there simply weren't enough gems in it, but Belle had never been one for ostentatious displays of wealth and had no desire to cart a rock the size of her fist around for no other reason than to prove her husband was a man of means. No, the ring Rumple had presented her with was understated but stunningly beautiful, something he'd clearly devoted time and effort to; this would be the ring Belle treasured.
"I know you and I being in one another's company was decided for us, but you're not enslaved any longer and we have Amicia now, Valdis as well. I won't lie and say being together will be easy. I have to find my Bae but -"
Belle abruptly cut him off with a kiss. "Yes."
"Yes? I haven't even asked yet."
Yes, she'd said yes, said it so freely and without an iota of hesitation. The perfect goddess in his lap had actually consented to be his wife, the wife of a monster.
"I've been waiting since after the Osgar Hall Caverns for you to ask." She beamed. "Yes, Rumpelstiltskin, I'll marry you. Of course I'll marry you, I love you." Rumple pressed a loving kiss to her lips as if to confirm to himself Belle was real rather than a figment of his insanity, his claws into the burgundy leather of her outfit. "You promised to help my family and my kingdom, and I'd very much like to meet my step-son, so never doubt that I'll help you find him no matter what realm we end up in." He just blinked at her in amazement. "We're family now, Rumple, and I love you."
He'd been terrified of asking Belle to leave Dreymyr with him but … she would! Belle had just quietly agreed to go with him in search of Baelfire, she'd not leave him and Rumple adored her. Belle wouldn't leave him.
Rumple pressed his forehead to hers. "I love you as well, Belle. I don't know what I did to deserve you, but I'm pleased I did it."
"It's the same reason that others love you, you're a good man, Rumple."
He nearly snorted because he was the fearsome Dark One and always would be, a beast and monster with only evil inside his soul. However, the chestnut-haired beauty seemed so confident in her proclamation. She'd actually chosen him; didn't matter she was a princess, half-elf or a girl of eighteen, not when she'd chosen worthless him. Belle truly was a bright light too good for the world.
~X~
After their engagement had been quietly celebrated inside the commandeered lab, Rumple had gone to Leotomas to inquire as to which professor knew the most about the Draconic language. While there were several professors at the Arcane University with and understanding of Draconic, Rumple had been quickly shuffled to a grasswalker named Mykel Ainsworth and assured he was the best they had. When he'd met the man out in the gardens, Rumple had quickly determined Ainsworth had more than a couple screws loose. The man consistently muttered to himself about his research as he scribbled away inside a notebook in a shorthand of his own invention and students seemed to give him a wide berth – Rumple couldn't help but be reminded a little of himself.
Ainsworth wasn't a bad-looking grasswalker. Actually he was a fairly handsome man with blue eyes and brunet hair which hung down around his face in a shaggy mop, his large ears twitched and turned toward every noise but didn't seem to actually take notice, and, like with all grasswalkers, he looked much younger than he really was. Handsome, but insane – 'maybe he's more like Jefferson than myself then' Rumple's mind had muttered.
With Ainsworth's tremendously enthusiastic assistance over the following two days, Rumple's knowledge of dragons and Draconic had skyrocketed; he'd also learned that there were some pretty large gaps in the record when it came to Isra's fate. Most stories said that the other dragons had assisted in aiding the Hero to slay Isra, although, even the Church's written record didn't state anywhere that the darkness dragon had actually been killed by the Hero's sword. Tomes kept by the Vita Tree claimed that the Hero and his party had only arrived in Isra's territory after the dragons had already 'intervened'. Frankly, with so few first-hand documents, it was impossible to say with a hundred percent certainty that Isra had actually been slain. However, that was a problem for Ainsworth to concern himself with rather than Rumple. Much more importantly, together they'd been able to modify the sigil Rumple had carved into the onyx in minute but dramatic ways. Ainsworth had drawn up numerous options for the talisman that the two had slowly assessed then disregarded until the pair had finally built something they thought could work. Rumple remained skeptical since that appeared to be a prerequisite of being him, but Ainsworth's enthusiasm seemingly had no limits and the man had muttered on and on about having Rumple join him in his research again at some point. Even when he'd learned Rumple was indeed the Dark One, Ainsworth had only grown curious. The man's desire for knowledge superseded fear, caution and, to some extent, rational thinking. A dedicated scholar was Mykel Ainsworth, but he'd likely get distracted by some unusual flower and eaten by a bear if he ever actually left Bichelberger's walls.
What they'd been working on was considered fringe magic, but Rumple could feel an even greater power inside the onyx than when he'd started that alone provided hope. The power resonated with his own dark magic which meant it would surely do the same with Valdis'.
The lab he'd commandeered had been turned into what amounted to a madman's murder board. Sheets upon sheets of discarded paper with different sigils had been tossed here, there and everywhere with books half hidden underneath some of them. Candle wax had dripped down the side of one desk where Ainsworth had spent all night glued to the book Rumple had first read about the talisman in, and bits of forgotten gold thread littered the floor. Ainsworth had borderline begged to watch Rumple spin gold but he'd been firmly rebuffed at every turn; he was the damn Dark One not a performing monkey – if he wanted performing monkeys, Zelena would have been a better person to ask.
Despite having edited the talisman to the best version the two men where capable of, Rumple had opted to spend several more hours with Ainsworth to learn all he could from the crazy researcher. Normally he'd have had to make some kind of deal to get his hands on so much information, but Ainsworth had delighted in speaking at length on every topic he had knowledge of, so Rumple had simply listened and absorbed. Jefferson had joined them for a few hours when the topic of portals had arisen, he'd spent most of his time in the library vault searching for a way back to the Enchanted Forest; or indeed any realm that he and Rumple could use their teleportation magic freely in.
While Ainsworth's area of expertises was more restricted to research and ancient magic, he had come up with some rather interesting reasons as for why they'd not been able to escape Dreymyr. The most promising idea was the fact Isra had been defeated. The Cardinal Dragons were like linchpins within Dreymyr, one for each elemental class whose continued existence kept the realm's magic in balance, hence why they were referred to as the Cardinal Dragons in the first place. Legends all spoke of Isra being one of their number which suggested dark magic had been used regularly long ago but, with Isra gone – whatever that actually meant with the written record being so spotty – had become wild and unstable; couple that with how different Dreymyr's magic laws were to every other realm Rumple had visited, and it made quite a lot of sense as to why establishing a connection out of the realm had grown so hard. Ainsworth may have been mad as a March hare, but his ideas held merit and had been both surprisingly insightful and well explained. All that said, Rumple had seen a new problem arise if Ainsworth's hypothesis turned out to be correct, and that was that, if Isra really had been slain by the other dragons, then it might have only been possible to pull things into Dreymyr rather than allowing them back out. At the very least they'd surely need a huge source of dark magic to ground a portal spell; disturbingly, Rumple knew that he himself was probably one of the few remaining sources of such power.
Logically, Rumple knew he couldn't linger in Bichelberger for much longer. He'd put off fulfilling his end of the deal he'd made with Belle and the deal he'd made had started to think he wouldn't keep his word. Magic came at a price and it needed to be paid. Then there was Jefferson who urged to return to his daughter – something Rumple fully understood and respected.
Two of the three other demon lords were dead, only Ravavena remained and she'd been imprisoned in Akula Prison on Shark Island in Worynheim. Her existence explained the concentration of darkness he'd always felt to the east, but in the last couple of months he'd begun feeling something similar to the west. There were a number of kingdoms to the west, but Rumple knew whatever the new darkness was, it came from Avonlea and almost certainly had something to do with Haldor Tvon. That man scared Belle, scared his sweet fiancée, and he couldn't be left unchecked for much longer, Rumple knew that. The darkness corrupted even the most noble of souls, so if a man already evil and cruel learned to harness dark magic then – well, all of Dreymyr could fall.
Only in the late afternoon when the three men had totally exhausted their avenues of conversation, did they finally depart Rumple's lab. Jefferson had gone in search of Leotomas so they could locate more tomes on Isra and the Cardinal Dragons – getting back to Grace was an exceedingly good motivator – while Ainsworth had chosen to accompany Rumple so they could test the new talisman. Frankly, if the new one didn't work, Rumple wasn't sure there was anything else left to try. The talisman was one third vague instruction from an unsourced book, one third guesswork from two mages who clearly weren't entirely sane, and a final third of good old hope. However, despite everything else that had urged and circled around Rumple's head, he'd actually enjoyed just working away on a magic item much as he had back at the Dark Castle. Ainsworth had proven himself a valuable assistant and – 'Stop it!' Rumple's mind screamed. 'You don't enjoy any of this! You're just doing it so you can go back to Bae.' Violently, Rumple slapped a clawed hand against his temple then snatched up the onyx necklace and grumbled that he was going to try the talisman. The longer Rumple allowed himself to enjoy Belle's realm, the more he failed his beloved Baelfire. Since he'd opted to see their handiwork in action, Ainsworth followed quietly; which just proved his intellect.
~X~
King Maurice sat alone in the throne room, that was all he seemed to do these days but he couldn't quite figure out why. He occasionally saw Gaston strut in with some new bright idea that was simply recklessness and bravado wrapped up in ornate words and gilded smiles. These bright ideas didn't benefit Avonlea or her people, they mostly just benefited the LeGume family and Tvon's research, but Maurice gave his permission each time despite not wanting to. A month prior Gaston had insisted they begin mining an area southwest of End and west-northwest of Ingston for the star sapphires the crown had always known were there. On the surface it seemed like a good idea that could make the kingdom wealthy and provide more jobs, but the du Marchand's had refused to mine it for the reason it was too close to the Ogre Blockade and the ground was notoriously unstable; they'd lost many a wagon on its way to Ten Kingdom Castle before his father had ordered the roadway re-enforced.
Maurice didn't know what had happened to him, if he tried to say no then a yes would leave his mouth, if he tried to leave the throne room for anything other than to eat or sleep, one of Gaston's men would usher him back inside like an old grandfather who'd become a nuisance. He was their King, not some inconvenient old man! Yet, his body just did as they wanted and returned to his throne. All was foggy inside his mind, he couldn't think straight, couldn't ask what he wanted to or go where he pleased. His chamberlain had been fired for a reason unknown to him and replaced with a man who had no idea what the job entailed; frankly Maurice thought him more of a jailer than a chamberlain. What had become of poor Lancaster, Maurice didn't know, but he hoped the young man found employment elsewhere quickly. On one of the few times he'd managed to get outside for some fresh air, he'd seen the castle's marshal, Estienne, covered in bruises. Though Maurice's mind was murky and wouldn't allow him to fully control his own actions, he'd been able to realize something was seriously wrong. A marshal's job was to oversee the stables, craftsmen and the castle's military presence. Estienne kept a watchful eye on everybody from the stableboys to the blacksmiths and saw to the transporting of goods; and he was damn good at it. All those bruises though, whoever had caused the wrongness in his mind had caused them as well. Scarily, where once there had been numerous pages running around, now Kalecaster had fallen eerily silent and the odd page Maurice did see sported similar bruises to Estienne and all had fear in their eyes. Lancaster dismissed despite his exemplary work, Estienne beaten and a shadow of his normal self, young pages so scared into silence that their hands trembled day and night and a steward who'd not been seen in months, yet Maurice couldn't do anything to stop it. A king was meant to protect his people, but somehow he'd become a prisoner inside his own body.
Then Artem had arrived, wise Artem who Maurice had known all his life, the man who'd introduced him to his sweet Colette and done nothing but show him kindness. Maurice had screamed desperately inside his brain, done all he could to force out what he'd observed inside Kalecaster Castle and that Gaston and Tvon were surely behind it, but the words that left his throat were not his own; they came in his voice but they were another's nonetheless. Then Artem had asked after the du Marchand children and Maurice's heart had almost broken. The words some puppetmaster forced him to say had told Artem that Belle had gone in search of books while Lorrimer was ill with a fever, and, while Lorrimer had always been prone to fevers, Belle even with all her courage and want for adventure, wouldn't have simply run off to Worynheim without asking his permission first. Gaston had always wanted Belle's hand in marriage but for power rather than love and Maurice hadn't ever put much thought into him being a real suitor for Belle. The pair would have made a terrible match and Gaston had always been too selfish to make a good king consort.
Belle hadn't taken a journey to Worynheim in the east. His sweet daughter could have been anywhere, or she could have been dead. Maurice was both a king and a father, so every day he continued fighting to break whatever evil spell had been cast upon him. Artem might have returned to Dorovoth, but Maurice refused to give up. When he'd married Colette he'd fully expected the elf to outlive him by many generations, but then she'd visited Ten Kingdom Castle with Belle on the day the ogres had tried to break the Blockade down and Belle had come home alone.
Another battle between himself and the spell for control of his own body thundered inside him until he managed to force his eyes to the faded red ribbon tied around his left wrist; Colette had gifted it to him as a favor when they'd first begun courting and it provided him strength still decades later. 'Do the brave thing and bravery will follow' was what Colette had always said, a sentiment she'd passed on to their clever daughter: Maurice would take a leaf out of his dearly departed wife's book and be brave for Belle and Lorrimer. He had no idea what the spell would do to him in the end, but as Avonlea's King and father of two wonderful children, he'd keep resisting the spell.