Dawn
Chapter 4
The Man Who Ran
"I'm only brave when I have to be."
Rumpelstiltskin sat wide eyed, staring into the fire with the rest of the soldiers. He could hear them talking around the fire beside him. He could hear the clanking of metal of swords being shaped at the edge of the blacksmith's tent. The neighing of horses and the cracking of whips echoed like the wailing of ghosts in the woods. He could smell his rations cooking in the fire. Yet he could not sense anything else around him but the conflicting voices in his own head. Until tonight, he had been so certain of which path to take. He was going to go to war, become a hero, erase the legacy of his father's cowardice from his life forever. His weaving days and days of poverty were going to be behind him. He'd choose his own path in life, not have it be chosen for him.
That was, until he met the seer. That afternoon, he was tasked with guarding a weapon that would turn the tide of the war. It wasn't an object, but a young seer. The creature had asked him for water in exchange for her talents. He shouldn't have done it. His foster mother had been a witch in hiding and what had magick done for her? Agatha died just like any other, and she died young of cancer. Besides the one thing she always had taught him was that it came with a price, every single time. So at first he turned away from her, cursing the girl out and nearly covering her up again. After all she'd say anything to get what she wanted. Then the seer mentioned his wife. By name. He couldn't ignore that. She delivered the news that they had been waiting for for years now. He was going to be a father. After years of trying, Milah was pregnant.
He had always wanted to be a father. Along with proving himself to be braver man he also wanted to be a better father then his father was. He'd shower his child with affection, always be there for them and let his child know that he loved him. He'd never leave them. He couldn't wait to hold a babe in his arms and watch them grow. Boy or girl, he'd be happy no matter which child he received. For years now ever since their arranged marriage, they had been trying. The problems that they already had in their marriage had been intensified by their inability to conceive. He remembered however that a strange plant began growing near where that strange stray cat slept during the day. Milah must have taken the herb as medicine. It was the best news that he had ever received, until she revealed the other side of the coin. His actions on the battlefield would leave his child fatherless. He had gone from being light as a feather to a stone settling in his stomach.
That was the worst fate imaginable for any child. Though Agatha had done the best she could and his life was certainly better without his father in it, he was left without either of his parents. Now the path that he had chosen would leave his child to the same fate. The seer then mentioned riding cows into the battle and they was where his concern temporarily ended. After all, who was going to man the cannons, milkmaids?! It was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. As the day wore on however, her words wore on his heart. They played over and over again in his mind. His thoughts kept returning back to her prophecy.
His head snapped up, pulled out of reverie by the sound of a horn being blown. The duke himself was coming to speak to them. Normally he did so to boost morale during difficult times, yet the only other occasion for him walking among his army and leaving the comfort of his castle was to share bad news. The duke was standing above a raised platform above his men. Though their rations were meager, the duke seemed to eat well. Clearing his thick throat, he began to speak to the men. He was carrying a scroll in his hands and a furious look was set into his beady eyes. The weaver gulped, the spinner feeling his skin crawl with fear. Those words of the seer, unwanted, echoed in his mind again.
"Soldiers! I bring you unfortunately unwelcome news." Though the Duke's voice on most occasions was drawled out and laced with attitude as if he just wanted to get through the obligation, it was a different scenario. This was the first time he spoke with any passion. "The animal kingdom lead by Queen Goldenstar has declared war on our army. This war has just become more deadly than it has ever been. But hear this! We will not cower in fear of this witch who threatens us. But we must know our enemy. She is not a mortal woman, but a beast in the guise of a maiden! The beast will make off with your children, and come after them in the night! She can change her shape into a vicious lioness! This hideous monstrosity will come stalking you at night! Children will be sacrificed to her monstrous appetite! She'll wreak havoc on our villages if allowed to wander free! This man eating monster who worships none other then the devil himself is now against us! Just a look at the scar on her face shows the evil within! We will not even give her the right of being called by her ruling name! She will be known as GoldenSCAR! But take heart men! No matter how many of you may not survive, we will not bow down to a beast!"
After being dismissed, Rumple made an excuse that he had to oversee weapons for his regiment and ran behind a tent. He slumped down on the ground, looking around in a panic. He hadn't been in a battle yet, having just finished basic training. The battles were known to be brutal but the humans had always won no matter how hard fought. With a man eating beast on the other side however he could be marching into a bloodbath. He didn't know much about the imp who ruled the animals but he did know that animals were completely loyal and devoted to her, including predators. She herself was said to be vicious, and now there was the news that she was a killer lion. The seer's words echoed in his mind once again. He could practically hear the roaring in the distance, feel the weight of sharp teeth clamping around his throat, feel iron tough claws ripping through his chest. He could feel dark magick strangling his throat. And once she was done with him, ogres would finish him off.
He began to pace around, his heart racing as well as his mind. He needed to do something. He was not going to let his child suffer the same fate as him. The seer was right. But what was he to do? He could fake illness. Disease was always spreading throughout the camp. However he'd have to be exceptionally sick. They were so short on men that they were beginning to recruit sixteen year olds to the front. He would have to be near death for them to pull him out of battle. He had to know the truth. He had to know right there and then. He bolted to the cage where the seer was kept. His heart dropped. She was gone. In his own frustration he snarked and beat his fists against the side of the cage. He was pulled out of this by the sound of pained moans coming from stretchers being carried from the field. Injured men were laying stricken with pain, covered with blood from wounds caused by ogre clubs and teeth of wolves and strange canine creatures called Hyenas. A nearby soldier snorted in derision. "Lucky bastards. That's the only way they get to go home. By the way, before tomorrow grab yourself a cow." "What?!" The spinner's voice nearly croaked in alarm. The other soldier rolled his eyes. "A saddle, you idiot. So the ride to doom will at least be a soft one on your backside."
The seer was right. She was right about everything. He was going to die tomorrow, and his child would never know their father. Sitting on a log by the construction tools away from the rest of the men, he stifled a sob coupled with a silent scream of frustration. Fear and dread gripped his heart like ice. He wondered what his child would look like. Would they be more like him or Milah? He was never going to know now. Death with its certainty lurked in every shadow. He knew he was going to die. He wasn't the best fighter and fear had always kept him from charging with full force. The moans of pain distracted him again. The other soldier's words began to echo in his mind. They got to go home. Injured soldiers were usually discharged. There was only one thing left to do.
Making sure he was hidden enough from his commanding officer, Rumple grabbed the heaviest hammer he could find. Placing his leg up on a stump, tears streaming down his face, he raised the hammer high, his eye on his kneecap. His hands shook. He knew this was an injury he'd likely live with for the rest of his life, but at least he'd spend the rest of his life being a devoted father. And he would live. The time for his thoughts was over. Closing his eyes so he would not have to see his own blood, he swung the hammer towards his leg with all the strength in his body. His screams of pain echoed through the camp. In the back of his mind and from some of the other soldiers in the camp that had gathered, he heard the horrible name that he'd be branded with for the rest of his life, the very name he had been trying to wash away. "Coward."