When exhaustion released Rumple and he finally managed to rouse Phria, he'd put his dragonlinghide coat back on as well as his boots and made a bee-line for the tower – well, there had been a slight detour to check on Belle who they'd found asleep in her bedchamber. Apparently King Maurice had carried her there hours earlier when she'd fallen asleep at Lorrimer's bedside. Part of Rumple had wanted to wake Belle. After all the months they'd spent joint at the hip, being apart for so long felt strange and simply wrong, but she needed the sleep even more than he had. So, with only his white-haired beauty for company, Rumple had made his way to the tower and torn the warding down to gain entry.
An atrocious stench of death assaulted them the moment the doors opened. The place was dark, coated an a thick dusty layer of dark magic and the same stench as a battlefield in the sun. Phria's hand had snapped up to cover her nose the moment she'd stepped inside while Rumple sighed beside her. Sighed because he knew that smell all too well: Corpses, corpses used as ingredients in the blackest of spells.
Steadily the mage and warrior made their way up to the top floor where they found Tvon's sacrificial platform, enough demon lord root to kill an army of linaelors and various spell books, some of which had been penned by Halinox personally. Just how Tvon had come to be in possession of such restricted and rare tomes they'd likely never know, but they'd never be able to be used again because Rumple sent everything away to his vault for safekeeping. The windows were thrown open to help clear the stench and Rumple did a thorough search of the main room to ensure there were no traps, tricks or missed demon lord relics. While the top floor he'd already cleared seemed to have been more of a reception area until Tvon had turned it into his personal sacrificial alter, and the lowest was nothing more than a bedchamber – though it had been littered with books Rumple had moved to his vault as well – it was the middle level where the death odor originated. Unlike the other two levels, the one holding the laboratory gave off a feeling of being trapped deep underground in a cave, like it had a mind of its own and enjoyed unnerving visitors. For a moment Rumple had actually entertained the idea since his Dark Castle had its own aspect of sentience, but it seemed significantly more likely that the dark colors and lack of windows were the cause.
"How did he not choke to death on that smell?" Phria asked as she continued to shield her nose from the stench.
"He likely stopped noticing it." Rumple replied with a forlorn expression.
The second he spotted the half finished potions littered about the room, Rumple made a mental note to block entry to the laboratory once they were done. He honestly doubted anyone would find their way into the tower what with the Rose Guard being rebuilt and Viren having melted the upper walkway, but the Dark One had always been paranoid.
At the very back of the room was a small wooden door undoubtedly to a storage area and kept shut by a heavy padlock. It barely even slowed Rumple down for a second. In one smooth motion an enhancement spell from the earth element called Stone Titan gave him the increased strength to yank the padlock away. Rumple tossed it onto a nearby table stained with ink and what looked to be powderized mana stones then pulled the door open. Inside was pitch-black and icy, Phria peered over his shoulder only to recoil as the rotting smell hit her firmly in the face.
Fully aware of the death he'd see, Rumple conjured a small fireball and had it hover above the centre of the tiny curved room. As disturbingly expected, Rumple found the source of the smell. Three young women all chained to the wall by a shackle; all dead, all pantherian, all tortured. In that moment Rumple wished he could raise the dead just so he could rip Tvon apart and force him to suffer the cruel agony he'd made these poor women feel. This horror was what people had always accused him of, what the Church of Drazva spread quicker than the common cold. Rumple had never slumped to this level of evil though, even on his darkest day he'd not so much as considered torturing innocent teenage girls for his own sick gratification. These girls had all succumbed to their injuries long before thirst or hunger could end their lives; perhaps that was a small mercy, or maybe it was just Rumple's wishful thinking.
A wave of his hand sent them away and caused the shackles to clatter against the stone wall. All Rumple could do for them was remove them from their hell.
"Where did you send them?"
"To the dungeon. No one will find them their and it will be easier to let them rest their until they're buried."
Phria knew he was right, but she'd not liked the idea of sending them from one prison to another. Those girls were pantherians just like her. Back when she'd been under her Uncle Hamish's thumb, people had grabbed her by her ears and threatened to cut them off, had told her she was scum and a whore. As a soldier she'd fought and been wounded, but never had she been subjected to the violent savagery that those three women had.
"Thank you."
Rumple didn't ask for what, he understood his fiancée's gratitude and wouldn't force her to explain it. Instead he turned to leave when the tiniest noise had the couple freeze in place. Though quiet, the noise had sounded almost like a slosh. Two sets of eyes snapped to a crate which came up to Rumple's hip suspiciously. With the smell and the tragic loss of life forgotten about, Phria partially drew her sword unsure of what they'd find inside that box. With a nod to one another, Rumple removed the lid and came face to face with a merfolk girl painfully coiled in on her side and crammed at the bottom of the crate. She was small but the crate was smaller. Turquoise scales had been ripped away from her tail here and there, while blue hair had grown matted and further imprisoned her inside the box. No more than two inches of water sat at the bottom, hardly enough to allow her to breathe. Despite all that, this child was alive. Here eyes fluttered as her body tried and failed to remain conscious. Phria sheathed her blade and quickly shoved down her anger to aid Rumple in ripping the sides of the crate off. With a creak of wood and splash of water, the girl slid out the crate onto the grimy floor revealing her to them fully.
The next few moments passed in a blur for the pair. Unsure of what else to do, Rumple teleported the merfolk child and Phria to Belle's chambers since he knew she had her own private bathroom, sent the bath to the ocean where he'd made his deal with Viren, then summoned it back and sat the girl into it gently. She hissed as salt worked its way into her wounds but didn't wake properly, not until Belle rushed into the room looking alarmed.
"What is go- Oh Gods, what happened to that poor girl?"
At Belle's startled words, the child tried to flee but it was impossible when being sat in the bath of ocean water was the only thing allowing her to breathe. Phria sheathed her sword and joined Rumple at the bathtub's side.
"You're okay," she promised softly. "Tvon is dead, he can't hurt you again."
Suspecting two smiling young women would probably be more comforting to her than Rumple's scary face, Belle knelt on the other side of her future husband and offered a caring expression.
"That's right, you're safe now."
Uncaring of any future consequence, Rumple healed her wounds and made sure not to make any sudden movements. The girl hid in her hair, cuddled it against her as though it were a pet or a toy, cerulean eyes were wide but downcast and her tail fin twitched with agitation.
"Do you understand us, little one?" Rumple asked as softly as he was able. "You don't have to speak, just nod so we know you do."
There wasn't any response.
"Maybe she only understands Aquan." Belle commented. "She's very young and the merfolk keep to themselves. I doubt many of them know Common."
That seemed like logical reasoning. The girl before him must have been eight or so and clearly knew little of life on land beyond the horrors Tvon had forced her through.
Rumple turned to his white-haired beauty. "Does anyone at the University understand the language?" She nodded and confirmed there were a few. "Have Demeer get the most knowledgeable on the subject. In twenty-five minutes, I'll summon you and whoever you're with back here from his office."
Phria could only nod before Rumple transported her to Bichelberger to locate someone capable of speaking with the child. The display of magic scared her and had her force herself further back into the tub in a desperate attempt to escape. Rumple just stared at her with a defeated expression.
"Belle, what is wrong with this realm?" Her brow furrowed. "I've seen more exploited and abused children in my time here than in three hundred years of being the Dark One. A cult was going to murder Amicia in a cave because they thought she might have part of a monster's soul inside her. Religious fanatics wanted to gut Valdis because she had the audacity to exist. Tvon has tortured and murdered more teenage girls than we'll ever know, and now I'm looking at a terrified mermaid who doesn't even know what we're saying. All she can do is wonder if I'm going to be the one to finally kill her." Those unique eyes turned to Belle fully. "What is wrong with Dreymyr?"
In an instant she'd taken Rumple into her arms, her recent slumber forgotten about in favor of holding him close and kissing his cheek.
"I don't know. I really don't know. It doesn't matter how many laws we have or the safeguards we put in place, there are always those who hurt whomever they choose. It's not all Drazvans, but the ones who think they're above everybody else just hurt and slaughter anyone who isn't fully human. People just pretend it isn't happening."
Rumple hadn't ever considered it before, but the Enchanted Forest was lucky. While mermaids existed in his realm, they were seen as people just as humans were, it had likely never occurred to those who lived in his realm to form a hierarchy of the humans, dwarves, mermaids and other magical creatures. Dreymyr wasn't so lucky though, their Drazvan religion had placated and aided in this cruel practice for power and wealth. As with most religions, it wasn't the faith which was evil, but rather the evil people who twisted it to justify their own actions.
Twenty-five minutes later on the dot, Rumple brought Phria back along with an older woman. He and Belle had excused themselves to Belle's room so the blue-haired girl could have some space – or maybe it was Rumple who'd needed some space. Seeing the weight behind his eyes, Phria went to his side and took his hand into hers comfortingly, then pressed a loving but light kiss to his cheek; such a caring young woman.
"Where is the child?" Asked the dark-skinned woman Phria had brought with her.
She was a short but feisty woman in her sixties with unwavering eyes, purple robes and a large witch's hat - the top of which had flopped down at the back. A no-nonsense person for certain, the sort who didn't spare Rumple a second glance and was likely unfazed by just about anything. Her face remained stoic while her voice held a light accent he didn't recognize.
Still holding his hand, Phria turned to face the short woman. "Rumple, Belle, this is Professor Idowu Mezgebu. The Grand Mage says she's the most knowledgable mage he's ever encountered when it comes to merfolk."
Rumple cared little for her name so Belle greeted her for both of them. As long as she could communicate with the girl, he was happy.
Professor Mezgebu let out a small unimpressed hum before repeating her earlier question. "Where is the child?"
With a clawed finger he gestured to the bathroom door and the Professor waisted no time making her way inside where the mermaid instantly recoiled as best she could in the bathtub. She looked the situation over, hummed again then spared a glance to Rumple in the doorway flanked by his fiancées on each side.
"Ocean water in a bathtub. Crude but it gets the job done."
None of them were entirely sure if that had been meant as a complement or an insult, either way Rumple didn't care. He'd seen enough of children being used and abused in Dreymyr and wouldn't stand there while this mage grumbled at him.
"I'm sorry, shall I get to work on a glass tank for her? We could charge admittance."
"No need to climb up on your soapbox, Dark One." With that the Professor slowly lowered herself to perch awkwardly on a little stool reminiscent of a cuttie-stool and began to sign to the girl.
At first the girl refused to leave the childish safety that her damp blue hair gave her but, eventually, her face peeked out just enough to pay proper attention to what Professor Mezgebu said. At first her face gave away nothing but fear and suspicion, something nobody could blame her for, yet, as time went on, the girl began to sign back. Rumple made a mental note to learn Aquan as fast as was physically possible if it meant communicating with her directly. Thanks to Ainsworth, he'd learned a fair amount of Draconic and Belle had provided him a working knowledge of Elvish, but Aquan hadn't ever seemed worth learning. Two gestures popped up more than anything else from the child; the first was a mimic of the gentle waves on the ocean surface and surely meant just that. The other was harder to figure out though; that one resembled a prayer position with both hands pressed together, but she crossed her thumbs into an X and rested her index fingers against one another.
"What does this mean?" He asked Professor Mezgebu as he mimed the sign – she hardly even glanced at him.
"It can mean a few things, none of them good. Bound, chained, captured."
Of course it meant something horrific like that. Unfortunately, it told Rumple nothing new about this merfolk girl or where she'd come from. The oceans were vast and filled with monsters – not too dissimilar from land when he paused to think about it.
While Rumple ruminated darkly, Belle and Phria kept their beautiful eyes on the blue-haired girl and gentle smiles on their lips. They might not have known Aquan but an honest smile was universal.
Several moments passed while Professor Mezgebu conversed with the mermaid, and Rumple's fiancées continued with their comforting smiles, until Belle finally asked the questions they'd all quietly desired an answer to.
"What's her name? Where are her parents?"
The girl startled at Belle's voice despite its softness, something which earned an unimpressed scowl from the Professor. Somehow, without a single word, she'd managed to have the trio depart for Belle's bedroom so the conversation could continue sans audience.
Some time later, after a light meal had been summoned for the three of them since none were quite sure when they'd last eaten, and after Rumple had popped back to Bichelberger himself to borrow some tomes on merfolk, Belle found herself pacing around the room.
"I'm never going to know just how many people have been forced to suffer inside this castle, am I? I've been so selfish – playing adventurer and falling in love while things grew darker. I fooled myself into thinking only my family was suffering -"
"Don't do that to yourself, Belle." Said Phria as she re-tied her hair up in that long ponytail of hers.
"She's right, sweetheart. You are the furthest thing from selfish, and you weren't playing adventurer at all, you were helping me."
Belle shook her head. "I should have done more."
Rumple caught her by the elbow then to cease her pacing and fixed her with a firm expression.
"What could you have done? You're not a soldier or a powerful sorcerer."
Her face fell. "I still should have done more."
It was then she found herself wrapped up in his loving arms, his warmth a welcome comfort.
"You didn't have brawn or power, you used your brain and did the only thing you could."
"Ran away?"
Rumple breathed out a laugh and doubted Belle had ever run away from anything, not with the level of bravery inside her. No, Belle wasn't a warrior like Phria or a demon lord like him, she was a scholar rather than a fighter.
"You made a deal with me. You didn't beg for your freedom or anything so predictable, instead you asked for me to save your family and your people. That is not selfish or cowardly, Belle. Trust me, I know."
Yes, he knew cowardice all too well. Cowardice had broken and hurt so much in his long life. Sometimes he'd allowed himself to imagine a world where he'd been brave and just, a noble knight or some sort of savior, but that was only the silly fantasies of a pathetic man. He'd never truly be brave no matter how much power he had or how hard he tried, but Belle surely had enough bravery for the both of them.
A click sounded as the bathroom door opened, then Professor Mezgebu slipped back into the bedchamber to find the trio all wearing expectant expressions.
"Well?" Rumple all but demanded.
Professor Mezgebu sighed. "She was captured alongside her mother in a net and hauled aboard a ship after encountering a sea serpent. Her mother attempted to defend her only to die doing so. I don't think the crew intentionally caught her, it was an accident caused by the panic of battling the sea serpent, but they saw a way to make some extra coin and took it. Sold her off to the first slave market they could. She says she was kept in a tank of some kind and describes what I assume to be an auction."
"That's how Tvon got her?" Asked Belle quickly. "He bought her?"
"Yes," nodded Professor Mezgebu. "She only calls him 'the bad man' and, while I expect there is much more, he seems to have wanted her mostly for her scales. Also, her name is Semiramis. I'll continue speaking with her, it's reassuring for her to have someone who understands her, but she is clearly starving."
Belle nodded. "Of course, I'll see what the kitchens can prepare for her."
That was all it took for Belle to hurry out the room in search of food for young Semiramis; they'd taken the time to eat but had totally forgotten about the child.
"I shall report this to the Grand Mage then speak with Ser Chrysaor about conveying this all to King Artem. I expect Belle can inform King Maurice."
Much as Belle had, Phria exited the room leaving the Dark One and a stoic old woman alone. Slave collars, cults, mad mages, dragons and now mermaids – it was just one thing after another with Dreymyr and Gordana had turned Rumple into a one-man Willow Blue. Despite all the irritation it had caused him though, Rumple wouldn't trade it, for his summoning to this bizarre realm had been the catalyst to reuniting him with Bae and allowed him to build a family. They may have been a peculiar assortment of people from all walks of life and species, but they'd come to care very deeply for one another and Rumple's dark isolation had been banished. Hopefully they'd be able to banish it for Sermiramis as well by returning her to her father or whatever family she had left beneath the waves.
"So," began Professor Mezgebu once she realized Rumple had slipped into his thoughts. "You're the Dark One of legend."
While more of a statement than an actual question, Rumple still flashed her a little flamboyant flourish as was expected of him.
"In the flesh, dearie."
"Hmm, I'd expected you to be taller." She folded her arms across her chest. "More muscular as well."
Rumple lifted an eyebrow at this completely unflappable woman. "I'm a demon lord, not a Lothario."
"Well, I suppose we should never judge a book by its cover. It's just that the Church depicts you as a giant beast in their stories and my mother told me them constantly as a child. Oh, you should have seen her the day I told her I'd be joining the University rather than the Knightly Order's mage division."
"I'm sure her heart was crushed, dearie." He responded without much care.
"She acted like I'd betrayed my race until the day she died." Professor Mezgebu shrugged; no matter what the relationship between her and her mother had been like, the grief of losing her had clearly faded decades ago. She made to return to the bathroom but paused with her hand outstretched to the door handle. Ebony eyes peered over her shoulder to him. "I meant no offense when I mentioned your appearance, Dark One. It is just that I had been dubious about you and now see why the Grand Mage and Captain Federlord have placed so much trust in you."
Then Rumple was alone unsure of what to do with Professor Mezgebu's comment. None of it mattered, not when there was so much else that needed doing. Semiramis had someone to watch over her, Belle would ensure she was fed and St. Claes had been spared total panic. Apart from learning Aquan as quickly as he could, rebuilding the section of Kalecaster that Viren had melted before it toppled and took the rest of the castle with it seemed like a wise next move.
~X~
The next day, Maurice finally made an official statement to his kingdom. The people of St. Claes had arrived to hear the speech hoping it would shed light on the unbelievable things they'd heard and seen over the last few days. So, with Belle and Lorrimer at his sides to show a united front, Maurice had addressed his people fully aware that one wrong word would surely be used against him by the Church in their quest for more power.
"… I understand your trepidation, but I am here to put your fears to rest. I am your King and it is my duty to protect Avonlea. Th du Marchands organized the construction of the Blockade and Ten Kingdom Castle to protect us all from the ogres, we ensured each of you can live peacefully no matter your race or religion. Now I ask for you to have faith in us, in your King. A dragon attacked Kalecaster, a creature we all thought long extinct, it burnt the Court Mage Tower and killed many, including Duke LeGume and Court Mage Haldor Tvon. Their deaths are a tragedy, but we survived, Avonlea survived as it always does because our people are strong." They'd never know the truth of what had happened at the castle, just the edited story designed to defend against a worse fate. "Some of you still think the Dark One's return to be a rumor or a lie, but it is not." Gasps and fearful murmuring sounded from down below the balcony Maurice gave his speech from. "The Dark One, whose name is Rumpelstiltskin, has returned to our realm after a thousand years. I know that is frightening, but he is not what we believe and is the reason the dragon fled. He saved Avonlea and her people, he protected us and continues to do so. Myth and reality are not the same thing, and I ask you all to be brave enough to separate the two. It is time for progress, we must respect our traditions and beliefs, but we cannot let ourselves be stagnant. I know it will take time for you to fully believe my words, to understand that I speak the truth freely and without fear. I ask you not to cast away your worries right away. Dragons have just leapt off the history pages, we were wrong about their extinction. Perhaps it is time to learn the truth behind our legends together. The Dark One has performed duties as a double-gold adventurer and those of you he's aided have seen who he is for yourselves. He has the support of the du Marchands just as he has the support of the Van Winchells, Umbras, the Grand Mage and Chief Commander of the Adventurers Guild. Rumpelstiltskin is welcome in Avonlea and we are grateful for his aid."
As expected, Maurice's speech didn't instantly calm things down or get Rumple a parade, but it did implant the start of change in the way people thought. The demi-humans, elves and dwarves were surely the most receptive to his speech as they'd never adhered to Drazvan bigotry, they'd judge actions over hearsay. This might not have been the perfect plan, but with three royal families freely supporting Rumple, the public would at least think on what Maurice had said. The Church's stories about the True Demon Lord always ensured he was represented as a monster who did evil deeds, but they never actually said what those evil deeds were nor did they have any factual history connected to him. To put it bluntly, all knew their stories were little more than fables except the zealots who refused to see it.
Tensions would be high for a great long while, but being so public about Rumple's whereabouts and those who backed him, meant that the Church couldn't blindly attack. Had it been a single kingdom then maybe, but three and the Arcane University were untouchable; especially when things were so dire in Olgarth. They'd bought themselves time in terms of a physical war, it was just the battle of propaganda now. The Church had practically split into two separate entities in recent years and it hadn't been an even split. Stewardship believers were by far more plentiful, but the dominion believers had the power and violent rage to get what they wanted.
By the end of the day the Church had gone into a sort of chaos mode. They'd begun spreading rumors that Rumple had brainwashed all of his supporters and that the dragon had been either the demon lord's pet or a fake. While there were some in more distant kingdoms and Avonlea cities who'd shared these suspicions, those in and around St. Claes had seen the red dragon, the smoke and smelt the brimstone. They'd seen it charging after a mage flying on a magic circle and known no pageantry had been involved. Over time the question became: If the Dark One was so villainous, why had he bothered to save Avonlea or take on quests for the Adventurers Guild? Then there was the Rose Guard who all respected him, they freely spoke of the Dark One rescuing them from the dragon and healing Prince Lorrimer without asking anything in return.